#I know festive season is a particularly dangerous time but man

[autogeneity]

ough guess I am regaining the sense of being Personally Responsible for all and sundry occurrences

but also not sure what I'm imagining I might have done about a clearly doped up man chasing another with brick in hand

[riversimmone]

Line in the Sand - Chapter 2

RiverOfTheSand

Summary:

AU GaaSaku. Because war is coming. Because a king needs a queen. And because no-one warned him his most dangerous opponent would be the one warming his bed..

XXX

Read from the beginning. This is a work in progress story you can find on tumblr and AO3 and on FF.NET.

[All tumblr posts will be tagged ‘Line in the Sand’ with their corresponding chapter for quick and easy access.]

Enjoy. :)

Chapter Two: Fate's Hands.

-o-

The bright lights and colours of the fireworks blanketed the night sky. Gasps and shouts from the onlooking crowd followed the newest eruption of screaming and whistling in its wake. The spectacle was enchanting and awe inspiring to everyone who saw it.

All except one.

The name Sabaku no Gaara was synonymous with words like buzzkill, sourpuss, killjoy, and his personal favourite: stick-in-the-mud. He'd never been one for any kind of festivity. He would never admit it out loud, but he hated these mandatory traditions (because the people loved it). All these spectacles, all the bright colours and loud noises; they just gave him a headache – his siblings had always seen through his façade, however.

But the rigors of their three-year war were still showing, and the people needed some semblance of normality – a return to happier times. Even if it was a sham; a silent lie that hid the promise of bloodshed on the onset of the morn. For a night, they could forget their troubles and pretend like many of them weren't going to die in the coming weeks.

Gaara would never think of trying to deny them that.

He could put up with this for one night… right?

He nodded in acknowledgement as another partygoer approached him, bowed at the waist, and moved on.

Yes, he could put up with this, for now.

This was tradition, after all, and as the future king, he had to respect it.

Temari had waved away the offer for joint leadership (what had changed her mind, Gaara didn't know – he'd have to ask her later), surprising everyone. It didn't sit well with him.

Gaara looked up, again, as a particularly large stream of mixed sulphur, charcoal, and saltpetre exploded into the sky. It created an image this time; elemental kanji. One that represented the god of fire.

All the gods of the land of wind were elemental in power. And every season, as well as turning of the year, was celebrated with a different elemental god in mind.

They were about to leave summer – hence the fireworks and imminent fire dancing – and this celebration was to honour the gods for the last time this season. Not to mention that Obon was upon them, and he was dreading the offerings to the spirits of the ancestors.

Gaara sat in silence, and occasionally nodding as a citizen would approach him to offer their respects, but mostly just tried to look like he wasn't bored out of his mind.

Until his sister finally decided to grace him with her presence.

"Fire dancing is next," Temari said, breathing heavily as she sidled up next to her brother.

Had she just run through the entire length of the palace to get here, or what?

She had a strange, warm glow about her; Gaara's eyes darted to Shikamaru as the man dutifully followed behind her, but remained silent (his sister's General during the war was quite the tactician). They'd married on the eve of the civil war.

Gaara frowned.

He hated happily married couples.

They made him feel lonely and bitter, despite his preference to avoid that particular entanglement. He'd worked his entire life to convince people that he didn't need anyone, even when the freedom he gained from avoiding spousal dependency made him feel better, it was still a farce; the post coital glow of his sister just served as a reminder that he had no-one.

And frankly, the mental images were disgusting.

Gaara didn't answer her.

"I hear there's a new dancing troupe in our fair city."

"Advisor Yura." Temari greeted the older man warmly as he approached them.

"It might be worth a look," he added. "They could be added to the celebrations – it'll definitely help morale."

Gaara sighed, already knowing what the advisor was talking about.

Just what I need, he thought sarcastically. Flashes of half-naked people dancing in front of me.

And with his luck, every single one of these inevitably female dancers would be the highlight of the show. Just because he liked the idea of nicely shaped, feminine curves swaying to-and-fro, didn't mean he wanted to be exposed to it. He hated temptations.

"Yes." His sister looked intrigued. "I heard they're looking for permanent residence. Has the council gone over their petition, yet?"

"No. But their first petition was a request to speak directly with the late king."

Temari closed her eyes momentarily at the reference to Kankuro.

"A matter easily handled to Lord Gaara," Shikamaru said, breaking his silence, and stepping up next to Temari, protectively. "The advisors are more than capable of assisting the transfer of responsibility."

The previously bored expression he'd been wearing now reflected his distaste of Yura.

The advisor nodded in affirmation. "The troupe–" He started.

"They're a nomadic tribe," Gaara interrupted, correcting him. He'd read the reports.

"The outlander territories have become exceedingly dangerous in the past few years," Yura said diplomatically. Something must have caught his attention, because he bowed to his majesties quickly before taking his leave.

Temari smirked at Gaara as another firework exploded in the sky above them.

He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"I've read the reports too," she said. "Some of the young women in the tribe are of marrying age, so they may do their vows in the city shrines. It'll affect the agreement of any tenancy we allow them." Temari grinned mischievously. "You could take this opportunity to find someone exotic to marry, little brother."

Gaara flushed with embarrassment, remembering a talk with Kankuro a few weeks ago; affably, his brother had teased him over his "taste" in lesson traditional female "flavours".

Taste test them, little brother, Kankuro had said. See if the creamy centre matches the chocolaty outside.

It was a real thing too, with nobles these days. Many of the court had begun negotiations to wed women (or men) from more ethnic tribes and areas in the land of wind.

Not that he'd considered it for himself…

Gaara had more important things to worry about.

If he found a wife, he found a wife; Gaara didn't want to spend too much time worrying (or blushing) over it. He decided to let the gods decide that fate for him. Yes… he could pretend that was out of his hands, too.

The law was against him on that, but he didn't want to force himself.

Gaara pushed all thoughts of courting, fiancés, and marriages aside for now. The only thing that mattered was getting through this night so that, come morning, he could set his mind to the task of avenging his brother.

-o-

The night was still young, and Sakura Haruno had a plan. She was going to dance her arse off.

She would do everything she could to attract the attention of the future king, as her father wanted, of course. But that was up to the gods, not her. And fate.

Superstition was common in her people, and it was fate that they'd arrived in Suna on this auspicious day. And the Obon festivities were in full swing.

The once power hungry clan of Kiraaku – who now went by the name Ryokōsha – were the precursors of the fire dancing that has now been around for centuries. It was their specialty before, during, and after their notoriously manipulative ways in the noble court. Every child in the Ryokōsha learnt to dance, though most did not train with fire anymore – a tradition that sadly became less important, even though they were often mistaken for a travelling, performance troupe.

The discipline and skill involved were still taught, but a student needed permission from their Master Teacher to advance to working with fire. And Sakura had surpassed her master long ago.

So she decided to take advantage of tonight's Obon celebrations. That was where Lady Chiyo came in.

Since her mother's death, Sakura had been tutored under Lady Chiyo; she was Sakura's kahu (caretaker), a respected title in their tribe, though not her only one. She had some rough edges, but Chiyo was otherwise the kindest person Sakura had ever met. The woman was warm, psychologically-minded, with an uncanny radar for mischief, and a no-nonsense attitude for troublemakers.

Her rank in their tribe was of Head Healer. And she was the best they'd ever produced – second only to the world renown Lady Tsunade (but anyone who valued their heads never uttered that woman's name around Lady Chiyo).

Right now, Chiyo was tutting over Sakura's wardrobe choice.

"It's unbecoming," she'd said.

"It's not like I'm naked."

Chiyo insisted on doing her hair at least.

Sakura reached up and fingered the headdress the older woman had insisted she wear (it bore the tribal symbol). Chiyo slapped her hand away.

"Do the girls in the palace all wear their hair like this?" She wondered out loud.

The worried, aging lines of her kahu worried Sakura. She was protective of the pinkette but also found her new plan to get a seat in the royal court a noble one. She was eager to see Sakura married off and happy.

Sakura had to keep reminding herself that Chiyo had not been born among the Ryokōsha, only migrating to their tribe years ago, when she'd lost her son to war – war instigated by the ruling family (two kings ago). She shared the Ryokōsha natural tendency toward ambition.

"Take this duty seriously, Sakura," Chiyo chided, not looking at her as she tugged on her hair to pull it back and out of her face. "Any girl in the clan would kill to take your place."

Sakura snorted. "Like they understand this is about me auctioning myself off."

Chiyo made a tutting sound but didn't otherwise respond.

The younger ones had been so excited since Yuri told them they would soon be meeting royalty. That ridiculous girl had them all worked up over it. She even had them all thinking they were going to some dancing ball and the prettiest girls would be married off to the cutest princes.

That girl.

Sometimes Sakura had a hard time believing that she was related to Yuri. Her cousin was also the only person other than Kizashi and Sakura that carried the name Haruno, which gave her the right to lead the Ryokōsha if circumstances allowed it. And now they did.

But the silly girl was far more interested in spreading rumours about Sakura's impending nuptials and their clan's "rise to power" then catching up on her lessons. She needed to prepare, since their patriarch didn't have much time left.

A familiar pang hit Sakura and she winced, remembering that her father was currently asleep next door, in pain, even in slumber. He kept up a brave face when awake, but the moment he slipped into unconsciousness all his worries manifested on his old, tired, and worn face.

Sakura closed her eyes to distract herself for a moment. But her thoughts returned to the current state of affairs.

Why didn't Kizashi ask Yuri to seduce some noble?

Sakura huffed, fidgeting again, and earning herself a stern look from Chiyo.

Tradition dictated they find an intended among their own from a young age; thank-fully, incest was abhorred and the bloodlines weren't ever mingled with their own, even if they had to seek out other tribes to (prevent) it. The point being, that Yuri had an intended; at least her intended was still intended. The young man Sakura's father had promised her to had died in an ambush on their caravan over a month ago.

Sakura had mixed feelings about that – that boy had been interesting enough when she had an itch to scratch, but she couldn't imagine being particularly happy married to someone who still thought she wouldn't get pregnant if they did it standing up.

Dunce.

But at least he hadn't been her first. She'd had her fair share of childhood crushes too. Sakura had liked an older boy for a long time when she was a child – he'd be almost thirty now, but he too, was gone.

As good as, anyway.

She glanced at Chiyo in the mirror as the older woman started humming. That was a sore topic she avoided.

As for Yuri… Sakura could only hope that Yuri settled down when she finally settled down and bore children. It would do good to teach her responsibilities. Her intended was a good guy, so there was hope there.

"This is all happening so fast," Sakura thought out loud, before she could stop herself. She didn't mind this, but now that she was getting closer to having to do it, she worried nobody would like her.

"There will be no time to worry over how little time is left to you before the fire dance tonight."

"I know."

"If you are to attract him, you must act swiftly."

"I'm aware."

"Are you also aware of what time it is?"

Sakura looked up at the reflected image of her kahu and frowned. "What?"

"Obon."

"Yes, I know. It's a season of renewal, of visits from our ancestors, when offerings are made to the spirits."

"And the king recently died."

Sakura nodded. "I know."

Where was she going with this?

"The new king will have to be crowned soon, or it will be disrespectful to the spirits, and the law says he must marry within thirty days of taking the crown. But there is a rite of passage the future king and his future wife must go through first and it is lengthy."

"Okay…" Sakura was still confused.

Chiyo made a clucking sound, now staring at Sakura in the vanity mirror in front of them. "He will most likely have been pressured by his council to marry in the past, but has not taken any vows. Which means he will be desperate now, and a desperate man is easily wooed by a beautiful woman."

Sakura smiled, understanding now. "You really think I can do it?"

"You have wooed every man in this caravan," Chiyo said honestly, chuckling when the pinkette's eyes widened in shock. "But they would not dare approach you without your father's permission. The future king however, outranks Kizashi."

Sakura had nothing to say to that. She sat patiently as Chiyo finished and stood as instructed, when the older woman was done.

She looked at herself in the full length mirror and quite suddenly, could see what her kahu had been talking about. In front of her stood an exotic woman – more than that, the woman she had become was shapely but not out of proportion, petite but not flat; her eyes glittered like polished emeralds, her skin seemed to absorb the light of the torches in her room. Her skin was still light, since she covered it during the day (tradition for the Ryokōsha) so it wasn't exposed to the sun, but there was a soft, natural olive tint that showed when she wore more open clothes.

It had to be the fire light. All Ryokōsha looked more exotic in fire light. It was in their genetics.

Her long hair was pulled back and slightly curled, but still retain some semblance of its natural straightness; she couldn't believe how much better it looked this way.

She suddenly felt like a princess.

A queen, she corrected herself.

"Thank-you, kahu," she whispered.

Lady Chiyo just smiled, and nudged her toward the door.

It was time.

Sakura inhaled deeply, feeling more confident now. There were fireworks in the sky, a clear path leading to the open gardens where the main festivities were currently being held, and the future king was unknowingly waiting for her.

Spirits, fate, and gods be willing.

I can do this.

-o-

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 4

Episode 16: Henry's Frittle Problem

~Henry's House~

Homework, isn't it fun? Well, Henry didn't think so.

The boy was sitting on the couch in his living room, struggling through the worst homework he'd ever gotten. At least that's how it felt. It was math, the worst of all subjects that are forced onto unsuspecting, innocent children and he wasn't very good at it. In any way. Come on, he was a superhero's sidekick, he didn't have time for algebra, fractions and graphs, he should be focusing on kicking butt and taking names. But no.

Charlotte, being the little smartypants she was, insisted that they do their homework together because, otherwise, he'd never get it done, and she knew that Henry was starting to slip behind in class. Honestly, it was for his own good, just a few sums and equations for them to solve and then the pain would be over, but he wouldn't listen to that shit. 

Use X to find Henry giving a shit. Oh, wait, she couldn't because he didn't know where to begin; not one answer down on his sheet as she scribbled down the last letter for her working out. Nothing like warming up the old brain, but for the sidekick, things weren't going so well...

"So, what'd you get for number one?" Charlotte asked once she had all her solutions in a nice neat line and she looked over to her friend, who had...none of that. He wasn't a nerd, okay? No offence to the girl, but he preferred to doodle all over his page and if he was sneaky about this, he could make it look like he wasn't an idiot at all. Why have a dog and bark yourself, right?

"Number one...number one...uhhhhh... What'd you get?" He replied, hoping that she'd take the bait and tell him her answer so he could then write it down and look like a model student, all brainy and studious. Charlotte looked at him funnily, wondering what game he was playing because it shouldn't have been so hard to say one letter, but she replied anyway, albeit with a glint of suspicion in her eye. "I got B."

"Uhhh, I got B! So, yeah... I got B." Henry grinned when she told him what he knew to be the correct answer, not because he quickly did the math and solved the problem to get the same solution, but because this was Charlotte and she never got any questions wrong.

"Okay...and what'd you get for number two?" She asked, sensing what he was doing because again, this was Charlotte and as demonstrated by her phenomenal mathematical ability, she wasn't an idiot. In the meantime, their discussion about their homework was drawing some eyes, mainly those of Mrs Hart and Piper as they set up a big celebration in the kitchen, although "sorry" didn't seem particularly festive. Oh well, she could ask about what was happening in a bit. Right now, she had to beat Henry at his own tricks.

"Number two...uh, that was a tricky one, wasn't it?" He mumbled, trying to make out that he wasn't as stupid as he was sounding, but truthfully, the question hadn't been tricky. It was the second one and they descended into difficulty, starting with the easiest stuff at the top and the trickiest questions at the bottom that only brainboxes like she could solve. The fact that he was struggling already said a lot about a boy who was going to school less and less these days... "Uh, w-what'd you get?"

"Y," Charlotte answered curtly, knowing that it made no sense since there was no P option, just A, B, or C, so when Henry looked down to see his paper, he furrowed his brows in confusion. Maybe the genius had lost her touch? 

"Exactly, I got, uh, Y--wait, Y?"

"Yeah. Why are you just copying my answers?" The girl questioned sharply, drawing him out with her sneaky wordplay and Henry bristled at how she'd caught him red-handed. Damn, he'd hoped he be able to squeeze a few more out of her before she caught on, but clearly, he'd met his match and all he could do now, was deny, deny, deny. "Pffft, I'm not!"

"Why are you lying?" Charlotte retorted, using her wordplay again when he just lied to her face like she was stupid. It wouldn't have even been that bad if he'd have said "yes, I am copying because I don't know what the hell I'm doing", but not, he'd made it ten times worse and now, she was feeling slightly offended and protective of her answers.

"Okay, let's move on," Henry said quickly as he saw her glare and he returned to his answers as his mother started pouring glasses of water in the kitchen, ordering Piper about so she was dashing all over the place. What were they doing in there? It didn't seem weird to the teen, him ignoring his family, but for Charlotte, it was all so odd. "What did you get for number three?"

"P."

"Come on!" Henry whined, wanting a real answer now that she knew he was dumb. He needed to get this assignment done before his teachers hated him more than they already did, but he misunderstood. Charlotte was that petty, she was more than willing to help him learn math now that he had a bit of respect for her, but first, she needed to do something. Very urgently.

"No, I'm serious. I gotta pee." She told him and left him stuttering as she chucked her writing pad and pencil onto the coffee table. She stood up, feeling the urge from her bladder telling her brain that it was time to go, nature was calling. And Henry could wait as she went to head to the stairs, but then, she was needed elsewhere.

"Hey, Charlotte, will you help up put up this banner?" Mrs Hart asked, having seen the girl walking across her living room and she figured that since she was already on her feet, then she wouldn't mind lending a hand. The banner in question was huge and not what anyone normally hung from their kitchen cabinets; it was big, red and yellow, so gauche and gaudy that she didn't want to look at it, although her curiosity won in the end. Why the hell did it say sorry? And what were all the other posters for, like the "we still love you!" one?

"Oh, sure! But, could it wait until after I use the bathroom?" Charlotte asked politely, knowing that the task would go a lot more smoothly if she could just pee and left help out, without any necessary strain on her bladder. In her mind, it wasn't a demanding question, it wasn't even that big of a deal, but Kris thought differently. "Uh, no. Right now."

"Oh...all right." Charlotte faltered at the woman's blunt tone and she panicked at the thought of upsetting her best friend's mom. Not one for conflict, she decided that it was best not to argue and so, she briskly crossed the room, entering the kitchen as her body screamed for a toilet or any receptacle that could take away the pain, but no. She was gonna be nice and help out her friend's family before they bit her head off.

"Just grab the end of that yellow rope and pull," Piper instructed her as she held the other rope, keeping one half of the sign hung to the ceiling and Charlotte rapidly did as she said. The sooner she did this, the sooner she could pee and it wasn't too difficult with Mrs Hart keeping an eye on how straight the thing was. She could pull up a banner, no problem. "Okie-doke!"

"Hey, Henry. Does this sorry banner look straight?" The woman asked her son as she stared at the huge yellow lettering. It looked straight to her but she was a bit too close to tell properly, so she figured that she might as well put Henry to good use. The problem was though, he was kinda busy himself, mainly with how he'd gathered that with Charlotte preoccupied, her lovely little answer unguarded, ripe for him to snap a few pics with his PearPhone. Y'know, just for future reference, certainly not because he was gonna copy them later. 

"Uh, yeah, looks good..." He replied in a flat tone, not even bothering to look at it since he didn't care about the dumb sign, all he wanted was to make sure his photos weren't blurry because he was going to the effort of cheating, he might as well get it done properly. However, Charlotte knew that tone of voice and knew that he didn't give a shit in reality and when she turned around to see what he was actually doing, she felt betrayed.

"Henry! Are you takings pics of my homework answers?!" The girl asked even though she already knew the answer. Yes, he was. She could see the way his screen flickered black as it took the shots and there was no way he'd be hunched over like that, staring directly at her paper for nothing. The nerve of some people...

"What?! No...no! No, no, no, no, I'm taking--I'm taking some selfies!" He lied through his teeth and then stuck out his tongue to lamely prove his point. Yeah, she wasn't falling for that, especially not when he tilted his phone to take even more pics of her work. Asshole.

"Okay, Charlotte, we'll take it from here." Mrs Hart smiled at the girl as she shook her head and it was like she'd been released from service, free to do whatever she wanted. Which was peeing. She needed to pee so badly, but there was one burning question she had that she couldn't ignore, not even when her brain started nagging her too.

"Sure! So, uh, who's sorry?" She wondered, taking in the banner as she stepped back, ignoring how every small movement jiggled her bladder about. She'd be the sorry one if she didn't find a dang bathroom sooner.

"Oh, no, this is just a family thing we do," Kris stated, dismissing it as a one-off event because that was not true. It was a tradition in a way, something they always did when Mr Hart came back from a job interview because he had this issue, which was that he was Jake Hart. Himself. He was the issue. He was a lovely man, wouldn't hurt a fly but underneath his kindly exterior laid a hollow brain with nothing that employers wanted. Therefore, he'd gone through more interviews than Captain Man had formally gone on dates with girls and every time, his family were there to pick up the pieces after he was laughed out of the building.

"Yeah, we put up the "sorry banner" whenever my dad interviews for a new job," Piper explained further, thoroughly confusing Charlotte since she thought that job interviews should be a happy time. If only she knew how dumb Mr Hart was, how many failures he'd been through and how many times his wife and kids had had to put on reassuring smiles and tell him that there'd always be the next time. "Oh, why?"

"To make him feel better."

"When he doesn't get the job!"

"But, you guys don't know whether or not he got the job." Charlotte pointed out, thinking that they were getting a bit ahead of themselves. Surely, it would be best to keep their fingers crossed and cheer him on, but after years and years of watching him come home a beaten man, The Harts had figured that it was kinder to welcome him home with their sympathy, not a party for a guy who could've won the interview if he wasn't such an oddball.

"Yeah, but, you see, it's like, in life, there are winners and..."

"Y'know." The mother and daughter screwed up their noses, trying to explain it in a way that seemed kind but it was tricky. Mr Hart was dumb, there was no getting away from that, just like there was no way he was gonna come home victorious.

"Hey, I, uh, I finished my math homework," Henry announced, coming up behind Charlotte and tapping her on the shoulder. he was so proud, the task was finally done, meaning he could relax and not worry anymore, because thanks to his friend's answers, he'd be going to the top of the class for this assignment.

"So?" The girl asked, thinking it was weird that he was telling her. It's not like she needed an update every time he did something, certainly not when she knew that he'd put in one per cent of the work she had.

"So I'm ready to copy your English homework." He told her expectantly, which drew another irritated stare. That little... English wasn't that hard, it was just words and reading, not exactly rocket science, but Henry couldn't be bothered with that shit, not when he had his own little Bill Shakespeare as one of his greatest friends. Y'know, she could do English, math, science, everything he needed so he didn't fail all of his subjects.

"Well, I'm ready to visit your restroom," Charlotte replied dryly, giving him an unamused stare before walking off. He had some nerve asking her for more answers, but she'd fight back properly after she peed because it was starting to ache from how tense her abdominal muscle had to be. Just pee first, argue later, that was her plan.

"Well, can I, uh, can I get your English homework before you go?" Ugh, why wasn't he getting the message? When you gotta go, you gotta go and Charlotte really needed to go. This wasn't just a trifling, passing fancy, this was an urgent, unyielding call from nature and sure, if she was a robot, then he could have her homework at that very moment, but she wasn't. She was all too human and meant that his relentless whining was starting to piss her off. Jeez, was this how (y/n) felt when Ray started pouting? "No! I have to pee!"

"So, I can get it right after?" He called after the girl as she headed for the stairs, not wanting anything else to stop her from reaching the bathroom. She was on a mission and that mission was to get there before she had to use a plant pot or something and nothing could stop her...apart from Mr Hart energetically bursting through the door with the happiest expression she'd ever seen. Ugh.

"Okay! Nobody move!" He shouted, causing everyone to stop what they were doing. Piper and Mrs Hart stopped prepping, prettifying and tidying the kitchen, Henry stopped trying to sneak a glance at Charlotte's other homework, whilst she halted in her tracks. So close and yet so far. "Aw, whyyy?!"

"Honey, what's up?" Mrs Hart asked, wondering why her husband was in such a good mood. Normally, when he came back after an interview, his mood was dark and foreboding because of how another job had come and gone, so this chirpiness came as a complete surprise. Where was the depression and tears, frowns and grumbles?

"What's up is...Frittle Chips! You get some Frittle Chips! And you get some Frittle Chips! And you get some Frittle Chips!" Jake grinned, taking several cans of the famous chips from his bag and throwing one to his wife, Piper and Henry, who gratefully accepted them but there was still so much confusion with the gifts. Why was he so happy and why were they getting free food? And why did Charlotte have to stand still?!

"Dad, why are you throwing us Frittle Chips?" Henry asked on behalf of everyone because they all had the same question on their minds.

"I'll answer that with a poem. Ready?" Mr Hart replied joyfully, making them frown with bewilderment. Okay, an odd choice for explaining but hey, that was their dad/husband, a bit of a weirdo. "Roses are red, doors have a knob, this guy is happy because he just got a new...!"

"Car?" Henry suggested, thinking that there was no way he was gonna say the J-word. Maybe he'd bought himself something to cover the pain or maybe he'd been given the car. Whatever it was, they thought he couldn't come home with victory because of who he was. Mr Hart wasn't a winner, he was a loser, as harsh as that seemed. "No..."

"Hat?" Piper went next, also believing that he wasn't gonna say j-o-b because that would be madness. She knew her dad and how crap he was in interviews. That's why she'd been bothered to help her mom with all the signage, because of how dumb he was. "Come on!"

"Swim trunks?" Okay, Mrs Hart's suggestion was ridiculous and it made Jake purse his lips in annoyance. Did they really have that little faith in him? Well, he'd show them because he wasn't a loser this time, the tables had turned and he was king. Sort of, more like a lowly courtier, but that didn't sound as cool.

"No! Job! I got the job!" He yelled, and for a moment, no one knew how to breathe. Did he say?-- Holy shit, his family were so confused and so happy and so proud and so everything because their father was no longer a moron, he was employed! This was so shocking, who the hell hired him!

"He--he got the job!"

"I can't believe it..."

"I--I guess we should cheer." Mrs Hart stammered after her surprised children and they slowly started clapping and whooping, which hadn't been their initial reaction solely because this had never happened. Ever. Their cheers were nice for the man, even if they were a little delayed and he flushed under their praise, feeling pride swell in his heart once again since he hadn't expected to ace the interview either. After so many failures, he was beginning to think it was him (it was definitely him), but now, he was on the payroll, a breadwinner, the man.

"Thank you! Thank you very much! I am a happy, happy daddy!" Okay... Another strange thing for him to say since he wasn't just a daddy, he was a husband and "man" would have been much more fitting. Plus, his kids weren't exactly at the "daddy" age anymore, so that didn't help either, but whatever. This was all lovely and she was happy for them, but Charlotte could think about much better things. Like peeing.

"Okay, well, this seems like a family time and I really need to go use the bathroom, so--" 

"Oh, Charlotte, stop that!" Mrs Hart interrupted her as she tried to be humble and polite with her excuses. The teen didn't want to intrude and step on the moment, she just wanted to go upstairs before she burst, but they were obviously feeling much more sentimental than she was, especially when Mr Hart dragged her right back and into the family circle. "You're family!"

"You just sit down!"

"You just stay here!" Piper and Henry grinned as the boy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, meaning she was trapped yet again. Telling them that she didn't want to celebrate with them would break their hearts and she couldn't do that, even if she wanted to tell them where to go. Grumbling, she sat down on the edge of the couch, hoping the position would make things feel a little bit better and easier to hold in, but the cushions were too squishy and the pressure on her bladder merely intensified. Damn it...

"So, honey, what is this new job?" Mrs Hart asked excitedly, stepping up to her husband so she could grin at his goofy face. Yeah, under that stupid exterior was a loveable goon and even if they had their rocky moments, such as when she had moments with tennis instructors, the sweet times made up for it.

"I'm gonna be a project manager at the Frittle Factory!" Mr Hart exclaimed, making them all gasp at how that sounded pretty cool. Frittles were super popular and that could only mean that his job was gonna be super interesting, as well as super high-paying. This was what they'd been waiting for, now he wasn't an embarrassment because he was working for one of the biggest companies in the country... Wait, the Frittle Factory? 

"There is no more Frittle Factory in Swellview," Piper stated, remembering how the huge production warehouse in the industrial area of Swellview had been blown up during an unfortunate accident involving Captain Man, Miss Danger and Kid Danger. Well, mainly the boys, she'd watched the superheroine try to calm her then-boyfriend and fellow sidekick, only for things to go wrong when they made the factory's system go haywire and literally explode. So, how was her dad able to work there? Was his desk amongst the rubble and builders attempting to salvage the shredded shell?

"I know, 'cause Captain Man, Miss Danger and Kid Danger blew it to bits." Well, when he said it like that, it seemed so violent, but Henry knew better. So what if he and his boss got a bit carried away? Sure, there had been a bit of collateral damage and (y/n) never let them live it down, but it hadn't been that bad. No one had been hurt, that was the main thing.

"Well, that's not exactly what happened...to those guys and girl!" He protested, remembering to distance himself from the superheroes he definitely wasn't one of before his family got suspicious. He wasn't Kid Danger, he was just a normal kid, no one start prying.

"Yeah, it is. It happened last year. It was a cool, Wednesday afternoon, I was watching the news with my pants on and they said that Captain Man, Miss Danger and Kid Danger were visiting the Frittle factory and got into an argument that Miss Danger couldn't stop..." Mr Hart described, making them all reminisce about that fateful day when Mr Frittleman's fortune plummeted by fifty per cent when two friends battled it out with a pretty girl in the middle...

~

"Hey, he's not indestructible, you can't shoot--" (y/n)'s protests didn't matter, this was war and Ray Manchester took no prisoners. He fired a can of Red Frittles into Henry's abdomen, sending the kid to the floor with the forceful impact. Poor Mr Frittleman, he didn't want a brawl in his. factory, so he looked to Miss Danger for help.

"Guys, don't do this." She stood in the middle, but she was fighting a losing battle.

"Oh, he asked for this." Henry seethed and fired another can past (y/n). so it would hit Ray on the temple again. Ouch, that one had to have been painful and the pain was like adding wood to the fire. It made Ray even angrier.

"Okay! Say hello to my Frittle friend!" He quoted Scarface and yet another load of red frittles were sent Henry's way. It was slightly biased for a man as large as Ray to fight a skinny kid like Henry, who didn't have the weight to keep himself on his feet.

The worst wasn't over though, the catapulted Frittles hit some machinery at the back of the room, causing it to spark uncontrollably and an alarm to go off.

"They jammed the system controls! Now, the corn compressors are building up an extreme amount of pressure and...they can't release the corn gas!" Everyone paled at the news. Pressure meant explosion and an explosion was very, very bad.

"Oh, well done, you two. Nice going, you've outdone yourselves this time." (y/n) clapped her companions sarcastically as she guessed that they were heading for a catastrophe and she had to hand it to them. This was their biggest fuck up of the year.

"Attention. This is Jack Frittleman...run!" The CEO announced over the tannoy and no sooner than he did, the crowd bolted for the exits. Forgoing any attempt to salvage the snacks, the heroes, workers and guests legged it through the door and made it out with seconds to spare, leaving the Frittle factory to go up in flames.

~

"There's two sides to every story..." Henry argued as he snapped out of his little flashback. Jeez, that felt like it had happened only yesterday, Ray and (y/n) had only just started dating and he remembered how grumpy the woman had been when she'd heard about the extent of the damage her dumb friends had caused. Oh well, they were still together, engaged now, would you believe it and as gross as ever, so it had all been fine, for the Man Cave team at least. The same couldn't be said for the company that'd had to start from scratch after the incident.

"Hey, I thought I heard they were building the new Frittle Factory in Bordertown." Charlotte piped up. Being the clever clogs she was, she kept a close eye on the news and she was pretty sure that the old factory had been deemed a construction worker's nightmare and that it would be years, maybe even decades before it was safe again for people to use. Therefore, she'd heard that they'd picked a new location and that it wasn't anywhere near the Hart's home.

"They already did. That's where I'll be working." Mr Hart remarked, making them all frown. Wow, that was commitment right there. Bordertown was miles and miles away, at least a two-hour trip to get there and then two hours back, so that was a four hour round trip every day for one man. How badly did he want this job? That's what Mrs Hart wanted to know. 

"Wait, wait, wait. You're gonna be okay driving two hours to and from work every day?!"

"Noooo! This family is moving to Bordertown!" Mr Hart announced, smiling at what he thought to be a great opportunity and adventure for his family, but their reactions were quite the opposite. Was he sniffing something? He just wanted them to up sticks and move just like that? No, no, no, no, they had friends and family here, they studied here, Herny had a job here that was more important than any one of them would ever know and he couldn't move. It would be physically impossible for him to be Kid Danger and live two hours away, he'd have to quit, something he couldn't accept...

"Come on! What happened to "yay, we're all so excited for you, daddy!"?" Jake asked dejectedly when he saw their smiles fall. He'd thought they'd be happy about this, a chance to start a new life and support him in his venture into the world of business, but they just couldn't. The Harts loved Swellview and for Henry, his place was here, fighting with Captain Man and Miss Danger.

"We were!"

"Until you started talking like a maniac!" Kris and Piper exclaimed, the latter's volume and screeching tone making Charlotte wince as she watched from the couch. Okay, peeing didn't seem to be as important now. Sure, it still hurt but what hurt more was the idea of Henry going away and leaving Swellview and how that would affect the Man Cave. Oh god, how would Ray cope? He wouldn't, not without his youngest sidekick and best friend...

"I'm not a maniac! Bordertown is a great place to live. It's got houses and trees and a library and--" Mr Hart listed off everything he could think of that sounded appealing but it wasn't working, not one bit. They had all those things and more in Swellview and for his son, it was all just too much.

"Dad! Hey! Please! Listen! Dad! We are not moving to Bordertown!" He exclaimed, punctuating each word until he realised it was starting to sound weird, but he was just upset. His life was good, he had great friends, a great boss, he went to a great school when he remembered to show up, Swellview was his hometown and his world. He loved it in the dumb city he'd always known.

"Well, okay but, yeah, we are." His father argued, having made his mind up about the matter. This was the first proper job he'd had in years and he wasn't going to let something like his family home stop him from having it. Driving every day would be ridiculous, but moving everything was even crazier. "Dad!"

"Okay, I'm sorry, guys, but I really gotta go pee, so--" Charlotte started, springing up from the couch so she could slip out of the conversation and go meet her body's needs. She cared about this situation and she'd definitely be by Henry's side to support him through the pain of leaving and what they could do about it, but right now, some things were just too much for her to ignore, not that Piper cared.

"Look, daddy! I am not moving to Bordertown and I am gonna go lock myself in the bathroom until you say we don't have to!" The tween yelled in her signature shrill voice, making everyone cringe but for once, her mother and brother didn't mind because they felt exactly the same way. However, her plan for protesting wasn't so well-received with Charlotte, who had been hoping to get there first.

"No, Piper, please don't lock yourself in the bathroom!" She wailed after the girl as she stomped up the stairs with her parents chasing after her, but they weren't quick enough and Charlotte cringed when she heard the door slam shut. Well, if the real toilet wasn't available, then she was gonna have to improvise and go old school.

"Uhhh... Well, I'll be in your backyard." She told Henry, ignoring the shame that crept up on her as she grabbed a roll of kitchen towel from the countertop. Yeah, it was gross but peeing her pants was worse and it was dark outside, so it should be fine, right? Sure...

"Doing what?" Henry pondered, not getting it even as she grabbed the tissues and hurriedly walked towards the back door as if her life depended on it. 

"Watering your plants!" The girl exclaimed and left him alone in favour of the sweet relief she'd only find behind the bushes and hydrangeas in her friend's garden. Watering the plants was one way off-putting it and when it had had time to sink in, Henry shuddered. Ew, remember to tell him not to smell the roses next time he was outside. 

~Later, at Junk-N-Stuff~

The minute they could, as in, the moment Charlotte had peed and Henry had appeased his family, the teens were sprinting to Junk-N-Stuff, hurriedly trying to get to the shop as fast as they could because they knew that they had to discuss this with Ray. As long as he had (y/n) with him, he wouldn't react too badly, at least that was what they were hoping for, and the minute he got over his pouting, they'd be able to put their heads together and think of a solution. 

That was the plan. Ray, (y/n), think, don't go to Bordertown, simple. However, what wasn't so simple was how there was one kid that they hadn't quite thought about. A kid who loved Henry like a brother and the moment they walked into the store and told him about the sitch that had gone down whilst he was manning the cash register in the junk shop, he'd started wailing. The kid was Jasper, who was infamously attached to his best friend, almost obsessively. 

"What?! You can't move away!" Jasper exclaimed as he heard the devastating news and his hands clenched the edge of the counter as he thought about what this meant for his best friend. He was one of the greatest people he knew and he couldn't bear the thought of never seeing him again, not like this and at such short notice. Like everyone, Jasper knew that Henry was not only important as himself, but Kid Danger belonged in Swellview and if he wasn't around, then it would take Miss Danger months to peel Captain Man's sobbing self away from their bed. Jeez, he didn't like the sound of that at all, or any of it really.

"I don't want to move away!" Henry protested, not wanting to be painted as the bad guy here because the decision was out of his hands. Of course, he didn't want to go to stupid Bordertown, he loved his city, his job, his friends, his entire life and couldn't stress enough how he was just as distraught as everyone else. Charlotte understood him, after all, she'd been there and had heard him bitching about it all the way to their workplace. "It's his dad, not him!"

"We—well—well, I'm going to give your dad a pizza my mind!" Jasper growled, trying to sound tough and authoritative, but he just sounded weird and not just because he was the world's least scary guy. It was kinda hard to intimidate someone when you got the idiom wrong and he did it all the time, much to the chagrin of his friends.

"Did you just say pizza my mind?" Henry asked, hoping that he wasn't doing it again. He'd heard the saying once, misinterpreted it and now, he refused to say it correctly, no matter how many weird looks he got from friends, family, hell, even total strangers. Seriously, the sidekick was agitated because his entire superhero career and his social life were hanging in the balance, but here they were, talking about Jasper and his stupid quirks. "Yeah, it's an expression! Like if my mind was a pizza, I'd give—"

"Okay, let's just go talk to Ray and (y/n)." Charlotte butted in, having heard enough and that was before he'd even gotten into his stride. They had a real problem here and sitting and listening to Jasper and his weird brain weren't going to solve it; what they needed was calm, rational logic, AKA (y/n), and a splash of man-child-power and pouting-powered scheming, AKA Ray. Even though one of them was an idiot, the couple were adults and superheroes with resources to spare, so they'd know what to do, right? That's how adults worked, they solved the tricky shit that they couldn't handle.

"All right..." Henry nodded and he and Jasper followed the girl as she walked through the beaded curtain and headed for the elevator. All they could do was hope and pray that Ray would react calmly and not overreact, but that was wishful thinking. He was gonna flip when he heard that he was gonna be one sidekick down if they didn't act fast and they prayed that (y/n) would be willing to give him so yucky yet necessary kisses to butter him up. They could look past the mushy stuff just this once, especially if it meant they had his cunning on their side after he had his meltdown.

"Henry, you can't move away from Swellview!" Jasper reiterated as they waited for the elevator to come and for the boy in question, it was like he was a stuck record. He'd been over this again and again and again; he hated this just like everyone else, but he couldn't stay behind without a lot of paperwork being filled out. He was too young to legally look after himself and his parents would never leave him behind, so they were at a stalemate and in need of a plan.  "Man, I don't want to!"

"You promised we'd grow old together!" And Jasper made it weird. What were they? An old married couple? His sentimental and bizarre statement made Henry and Charlotte frown as they thought about the implications of such a thought and how disgustingly romantic the undertones were. The minute the elevator door slide open, the girl was in like a shot, swiftly followed by a flustered Henry, who didn't know how to answer such a question without hurting his odd friend's feelings. Yeah, he thought they'd grow old together, but not like that, ew, god. Shit like that was best left to (y/n) and Ray. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, when did your dad tell you this?"

"Can I just push the button, please?" Charlotte interrupted them again, feeling quite snappy after all she'd been through tonight. Having her homework stolen, having to pee outside like it was the dark ages and now, her best and most sensible, male friend was possibly leaving forever. Honestly, she couldn't catch a break.

"Wait, before you hit the button--" Jasper protested, wanting to discuss the issue a bit more with his friend before they took the plunge, but Charlotte wasn't waiting for anyone. She hit the button, causing the elevator to drop at its signature speed; like it was out of control and about to kill the people inside. It never did, and now that they'd had a few years to get used to it, Henry and Charlotte could fall and not feel the worst of its effects. Jasper, however, was still getting there and as they descended into a freefall, he screamed and clutched at their bodies until they slammed into the bottom floor.

The door opened, revealing that in his panic, the kid had dragged poor Henry to the ground and that left him pissed off and Charlotte looking at them in miffed amusement. This might be one of the last hugs he had with him and even if it was on the floor of a grungy elevator, he was gonna enjoy it. "Please don't move away."

"Please get off my body..." Henry retorted wryly, making his friend immediately unwrap his arms and help him to his feet. In some ways, Jasper was kinda cute, just not when they had an emergency and their dumb boss and brainy girl-boss to find. Was (y/n) their girl-boss? Yeah, she'd earned it...

Speaking of the Man Cave's resident lovebirds, here they came, chatting and giggling with one another as they came out from behind the secret door, the big doof wheeling a vacuum clear in front of him as he refused to take his eyes off her. To his immense relief, they'd been just like normal after the "blobification incident", and now, it was all in the past, something for them to learn from as they continued to kiss, snuggle and love each other just like before. Dorks.

"Hey! Henry and Charlotte! I don't know what you guys are doing back here but I am glad to see you, 'cause tonight is a special night! Stay right there!" Ray grinned as they looked across the room and saw the three kids that always just seemed to brighten the place when they were working. Sure, their shifts had ended hours ago and even if he didn't say his name, Ray was delighted to see them, including Jasper. 

(y/n) was surprised too, knowing that it was getting kinda late for them to still be hanging around unless they'd forgotten their phones or something. She hadn't seen anything lying around but then again, the moment she and Ray were on their own, nothing else seemed to matter. They should just be thankful that they didn't catch them on the couch...again. They'd never survive the scarring twice.

"Ugh, he's making it into such a big deal..." The woman groaned, throwing her head back slightly, but underneath it all, she loved the stupid excitement on her fiancé's face, it made him appear younger and more carefree like he was letting the big kid inside out to have fun. And it made him extremely touchy and kissy, so she couldn't complain that much. "You guys all right? You look...perturbed?"

"Why's tonight a special night?" Henry asked, ignoring her question and observant stares, plus, the way she was scrutinising their every move because it was just too suspicious for them to just pop back at this hour for chitchat. She sensed something was up, maybe not a big thing, but there was something about them that screamed worried, not that Ray could see the warning signs.

"'Cause I just bought that vacuum cleaner!" Ray grinned, pointing at the thing that he'd left in the middle of the floor. The thing wasn't the exciting bit, no, it was what he was gonna do to it that was making him all giddy. And he kept looking at his sweet girl, who looked so damn pretty tonight, stood there doing nothing particularly interesting, but the ring on her finger kept sparkling and catching his eye so he couldn't help but give her lovestruck gazes. The teens were used to it and more intrigued by the device in front of them.

"Uh, you and have different definitions of the word, special," Charlotte commented, looking at her boss with boredom at how he was getting so excited about such a trivial thing. Sure, she might understand why he always got eager when talking about (y/n), she could ignore how he was constantly looking for kisses and all that, but a vacuum cleaner? No.

Is this the Tyson Ultra-Suck?" Jasper asked as he inspected the gadget and it was a weird thing to be so knowledgeable about. But it was Jasper, so they didn't delve into it too much, they let it go as Ray came back over from the supercomputer, a mysterious, orange tub in his hand that drew their attention.

"Yeah...get away from it." The hero told him curtly, his childlike smile dropping as he walked past his "least favourite" helper and strode towards his fiancée, who gave him one of her scolding expressions. She wasn't gonna let him talk to Curly like that, he didn't deserve to be spoken to like a second-rate human and even if he was adorable, she didn't let Ray get away with being mean.

"Be nice, Raymond." She chastised him, causing the man to smile with a soft apologetic touch and he even pecked her cheek as he passed her, making her melt as he stood next to Henry to show his latest toy. He'd been a little more cautious around her ever since his scare about her leaving him, not that she ever would and whilst it wasn't like he was walking on eggshells, he was more mindful and eager to please her in whatever way he could. And it was all in the aim of seeing her walk down the aisle because now that he'd been given a taste, he was hooked on the married life.

"Hey, hey, Henry, check this out, check this out. See these little breath mints?" Ray grinned at his youngest sidekick as his sweet girl stood behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder as he shook the small orange pills in their equally orange container. Wow, great, fantastic, just what Henry wanted to see, but come on, he had a problem and it wasn't bad breath. 'Uh, yeah, I do but, uh--"

"Guess who made these mints? Schwoz! And (y/n)!" The hero squealed, rattling them even more as Henry, Charlotte and Jasper rolled their eyes at how carried away he was getting, just because he was holding some cool invention made by his handyman and lover. To be honest, (y/n) hadn't really been involved either, she'd just lent a quick hand when the genius was whipping them up, she could hardly be described as a co-inventor.

"Yeah, I just turned the machine on that produced them..." She mumbled sheepishly, knowing that her doofus was singing her praises when she didn't deserve it, but Ray didn't care if she helped massively or did the most menial task, she was still so smart and so pretty, it just made him so damn proud that he got to call her his. Ugh, kill Henry now. "Cool, that's cool--"

"You wanna mint?" Ray offered and even if it was quite generous, Henry just wanted to get through to the big lug before he exploded from the perturbing knowledge he was carrying. It was like it was eating him up from the inside and he just wanted to tell his boss and the curious woman hugging his left arm so that they could help. He didn't want a damn mint. "Nah, I gotta tell you something, man..."

"You wanna mint?"

"No, I gotta tell you something..."

"Yeah, take a mint..."

"Nah, no one wants a mint, no one wants a mint..." The man and boy argued back and forth, one trying not to scream at how thick his boss was being and the other trying his hardest to impress him with his fancy gadget. He needed to let it out so bad, but Ray didn't have his listening ears on, he was just mouth. He did catch the attention of one person, though, namely (y/n), who frowned in thought when he heard the boy saying something about something. Huh, what was that all about?

"All right, well, then, I will just take this mint and throw it at that vacuum cleaner!..." Ray exclaimed as he took a mint between his forefinger and thumb, having decided that if Henry wasn't going to take the bait then he was just gonna have to be awesome himself.

He tossed the small pill directly at the vacuum cleaner, smirking at both the anticipation of something cool and then way his girl immediately hugged herself into his back, shielding herself from the impending, fucking explosion that ensued when the pill didn't ricochet and skid across the floor. 

Oh no, this was no ordinary mint, it was some chemical compound shit in capsule form that Schwoz had engineered to explode on impact and as such, the vacuum was blown to bits and the teens were sent flying onto their butts from the shockwave. A fucking warning would have been nice, y'know, (y/n) had her human shield of a hot, indestructible fiancé, but what did they have to spare them from the heat and debris?

"You're such a child, Raymond!" The woman smacked her lover's arm when the fireball dissipated, leaving Ray cackling at how his friends had been thrown to the floor most hilariously. They were fine, of course, maybe a little bruised but no broken bones in sight, thank god. Merely their irritation at how the place was now a mess and their hearts were banging in their chests like they were doing cardio. Asshole.

"Dude!" Henry whined as he got up, him, Jasper and Charlotte scowling at their boss as he just continued to laugh and grin at their pain, hugging (y/n) to his chest so he could feel how adorably small she felt in his arms. Yeah, he didn't pay much attention to her scolds this time because it was so funny to see them so shocked and caught off guard. Plus, she never grumbled for long when she could nuzzle her nose into his pec and be kissed on the head by him. 

"What was that?! What if I said yes and put that mint in my mouth?" The kid carried on, raising a valid point that neither adult had thought about and (y/n) lifted her head to give Ray her frowny face. He was right, if he had swallowed it, then they'd be hosing chunks of Kid Danger off the walls right now and explaining to his loved ones why his head was in a million pieces. Eek, not their best move...

"I guess we'd be on our way to your dentist!" Ray chuckled, smacking the teen's chest like it was some banter between lads, not a life or death situation where they could have the death of a child on their hands. It's not a new set of molars he'd need, it was a damn casket.

"Or the morgue!" (y/n) replied with a faux excitement on her face, making Ray's smile fall when her words and Henry's annoyance sank in. He didn't want a dead sidekick, he loved the boy too much, so did (y/n) and his loss would crush them, which was a shame because they were unknowingly running the risk of that happening. Not in the same, morbid way but he wouldn't be around and they weren't ready to let him go just yet.

"Jasper, clean that mess up," Ray instructed as he looked at the bits of melted plastic and metal that had erupted across the floor, not to mention the scorch marks from where the vacuum cleaner had literally been on fire. His precious girl kept a very tidy Man Cave, it had always been one of her responsibilities as an employee and she just kinda liked it, but he didn't want to see her slaving away, not when he could get the annoying one to do all the work whilst he got to sit her on his knee and give her sweet, sweet kisses.

"With what?" The boy asked, looking to (y/n) since she was the head cleaner, scrubber, duster, head everything when it came to cleaning and even though she wasn't entirely happy about leaving him to do everything, the woman was more than happy to let him use her personal collection of bleaches, detergents, soaps and polishes until she could prise Ray away from her long enough to help out. "If you go into the back, you'll see some stuff for sweeping and cleaning--"

"No, sweet girl, he can do it with the vaccu--oh." Ray butted in, petting her hair like he was trying to protect her from his innate Jasper-ness, and that protective streak extended to her belongings. She loved her rags and mops, she loved keeping his, no, their home tidy, it was her pride and joy thing, and there was no way that that lump-fisted goofball was gonna ruin them. Very well, plan B it was then. 

"Uh, ooh! I got something you could use... Here you go, that's ought to do it." The man smirked as he carefully pushed his girl to one side and reached past her body to take a small blue case from a nearby cabinet. Inside the case was a teeny-weeny-peeny broom and dustpan as if he had mice as cleaners and (y/n) and Jasper looked at him weirdly. Jeez, he wasn't joking, he actually wanted him to use it to clean, dear lord...

"What is that?" Jasper asked, not knowing that they made brooms so small and he watched in curiosity as the hero plucked the thin handle/stick from the foam. 

"This is a broom and dustpan travel kit. Now, uh, go on! Get to work!" Ray told him as he dangled both minuscule items in front of the boy's face, expecting him to start cleaning with what was obviously meant to be a prank or novelty kit. What other explanation was there? (y/n) gave her doofus a look, half telling him off for being so snappy and bossy and another half telling him that he was the cutest and most ridiculous man she'd ever met...and she loved him.

"Here you go." And he didn't stop amusing her there. Without breaking their loving stare, Ray held out a tiny trash can to Jasper, as if it would hold all of the clutter that was on the floor. It would hold one piece of rubble, two at a push and this time, his girl raised an eyebrow at how he was just brimming with bright ideas today.

"You're so stupid...I love it." She cooed, reaching up to squish at his cheeks and stroke them just to let him how much she adored him. He looked so handsome right now, so dopey and cute that it made her want to smother him with all of her affection, and the rush of love made her forget about the teens who were vying for their attention. Jasper wanted some physical help with the sweeping and the other two needed action, advice, something that wasn't lovey-dovey shit.

"I love you, sweet girl. You wanna go buy some mirrors online?" Ray asked her before nudging their lips together in a soft kiss, holding onto her waist and silently preening at how his soulmate was finding him attractive at that moment. 

God, he loved her so much and after that brief albeit horrifyingly eye-opening experience with Bitchface, he never wanted her to be sick of the sight of him. So now, they were gonna do the most mundane, adult task in the world; buy some mirrors for their bedroom. No reason in particular at all. Don't ask any questions. Mirrors in bedrooms are normal. Wink-wonk.

"Sure, doofus, whatever you want," The woman grinned and the kids wondered why a faint blush spread on her cheeks at the mention of online shopping, but they ignored it and the way they brushed their noses together and went in for yet another kiss before moving to leave. Okay, they'd been gross for a bit, they'd had their fun but they couldn't take it any longer

"No, no, no, no, no, dude!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Henry and Charlotte protested, grabbing their arms and forcing the couple to stop giving each other dreamy gazes and look at them instead. Okay, (y/n) wasn't that grumpy to be interrupted but Ray was; he'd been hoping for a peaceful evening curled up in bed with his sweet girl so they could browse some shopping sites and then possibly watch a movie. Because he knew what watching movies lead to. "What, what, what now?"

"We got a huge problem!" Henry exclaimed, making the heroine pull away from her lover's embrace a little bit, although not fully. She could give them her full attention and let Ray (and herself) be touchy, it just made everything so much better.

"What? Ooh! Do I look fat?" He asked suddenly, making the teens recoil ever so slightly and (y/n)'s heart crack since she knew that this was another one of his fears. Sure, most of them revolved around his vanity but he could be so insecure sometimes, worrying from how old he was getting to how the world perceived him and if it was up to her, he'd be able to see himself in the same way she did. So fucking hot, she had no idea how she'd struck so luckily. "No, sweetheart, you look perfect."

"Oh, good. Let's get those mirrors then." He grinned, feeling his tummy flutter at how she looked at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky and even if he did doubt himself sometimes, he didn't feel ugly when she deemed him perfect. He thought the same about her, which was probably why they went so well together; they made everything better for the other.

"Seriously, seriously. My dad, he got a new job working at the Frittle Factory." Henry told them, nerves zooming around his stomach as he saw their faces contort into confusion. Okay, Ray often pulled that face, he wasn't the smartest guy around, but it wasn't a common expression for (y/n), who knew clever people stuff and street smarts. What was happening? She didn't like this... 

"What? Thought they built the new Frittle factory over in Bordertown." Ray stated, using his central processing centre for once and recalling how it had been all over the news. Also, Henry's dad got a job? That silly bastard? What did he do? Pay the interviewer? Pay the CEO? He could not believe this shit.

"Yeah, that's where Henry's family is moving to!" Charlotte replied coldly, causing Jasper to let out a long, pained groan as she once again reminded him that his best friend was leaving, but two more people were breaking down. (y/n) and Ray's eyes widen at the confession, their heads snapped to each other and then they jerked back to the kids. No, no, no, no, no, Henry couldn't leave, he was staying behind, right?

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, kid. There is no way you're moving to Bordertown!" Ray said firmly, feeling his sweet girl's shaky hand grab his and Henry felt a pang of hurt go through his heart at how they both looked like kicked puppies, wounded by the thought of a member of their family leaving and leaving a space. Ray needed him more than he'd ever know, not just as a sidekick but as a friend, his best friend, his best man because that's what Henry was gonna be if he ever got to the wedding. Oh god, would he even see the wedding?

"I don't want to!" He exclaimed, trying to make them see that this wasn't his choice. If it was up to him, he'd stay, but this was a family thing, even if he also had a second family working for the couple. They were like his surrogate brother and sister, maybe like an aunt and uncle, either way, seeing (y/n) fighting tears and Ray just as distraught was hard, but it really wasn't his fault.

"You're Kid Danger!" The hero reminded him as if he'd forget the incredible three years he'd had working as a superhero. Once upon a time, he was a puny little squirt and (y/n) could see over his head, making her worry about the scum he was going out to capture, but now, he towered over her, made bad guys quake in their boots and she couldn't let him go, not like this. "Yeah, I remember!"

"Don't go, don't go, don't go!" She cried, removing herself from Ray's arm and instead, latched onto the boy's skinny body, wrapping him up in one of her bone-crushing, rush of affection hugs that usually meant she was proud of him. But not this time, rather than feeling happy, she didn't want to see him leave and even if it was a bit childish for her, she figured that he couldn't leave if she was glued to him.

"(y/n/n)..." Henry sighed, patting her back soothingly as she whined into his plaid shirt and the sight the pair of them made was too much for Ray. His sweet girl and his sidekick, he needed both of them and if it wouldn't be weird, he'd be hugging him too.

"Well, what if I need you? Huh? What if there's a big emergency?!" He asked, taking his fiancée from Henry's arms when he pushed her towards him, knowing that he'd be able to comfort her better than he ever could but nothing could make the woman stem the tears. She had her little family here, the people who made her feel safe and confident, the kids who'd she taken it upon herself to mentor and in her mind, they weren't ready to leave the nest yet. Call her selfish, call her clingy, but she loved Henry like the younger brother she'd never had.

"By--by the time he got here from B-Bordertown, e-everyone would already be d-dead!" She hiccuped into Ray's chest, making him rub his hands up and down her back and petting her hair as his heart clenched from the breathless hiccups leaving her mouth. Poor baby girl, how should he take the pain away? Was there anything he could do? And it's not like Henry wasn't feeling horrible, especially when his boss gave him a semi-annoyed, semi-heartbroken expression that only made the sight of the crying woman, who'd grown to be like a sister to him, worse.

"Expect for us, sweet girl. We're Captain Man and Miss Danger." Ray told her gently, trying to cheer her up a bit with one of his dorky, big-headed comments about them being better than everyone else since they could survive a nuclear bomb if they had to. With their indestructibility and super-regeneration, they were one hell of a power couple, but it didn't help much.

"I remember, doofus. I just don't want Henry to movvveee." (y/n) whined, wailing into his shirt like she was having her arm wrenched off or her legs amputated with no aesthetic. She was a blubbering mess, a brilliant scientist reduced to an emotional, clingy, snotty mess and all because she didn't want one of her kids to leave prematurely. Sure, one day she'd have to say goodbye, they'd grow up and would want independence but that wasn't now; she'd need time to prepare for that with them, be allowed to realise that they were ready, something that hadn't been given here.

"Look, guys, I'm only sixteen." Henry pointed out, giving the couple his most apologetic stare, but what else could he do? He didn't feel ready to go either, he still had a lot left to give and it broke his heart and mended it all at once to see (y/n) so loving and protective, even if her hugs squished his spleen and liver into one mushy paste. And her protectiveness stemmed from his age, from the memory of the little kid he used to be, the one who felt tiny when she crushed him with her affection, and despite him being twice that size now with his youth easy to forget, it was still very much a problem.

"Yeah. If Henry's parents move to Bordertown and say Henry's gotta go with them, then he'll have to move!" Charlotte elaborated, making (y/n) dab her eyes when she realised she was right, and it was no use shedding crocodile tears now. The law was the law and under said law, her friend was still a minor and even if they sometimes acted like it, she was not his mom, Ray was not his dad and as such, they had no say in the matter of where he got to live.

"Okay, guys, what are we gonna do?" The boy asked exasperatedly, looking from the snuffling couple to his smartest friend to the one still sweeping, or rather, picking up pieces of vacuum cleaner one by one. There had to be a solution and they had to find it soon because who knows where his moving date was, who knows when the next hug attack would come. Come on, if only he could make the woman's head clear again, maybe she could come up with something smart and not have a wobbly lip in the meantime. Jeez, her sad face was something else, he could see why Ray was so afraid of upsetting her because damn...

"Somebody could help me sweep..." Jasper suggested, holding up his brush and pan as he knelt on the floor snd he took the time to give everyone a grumpy frown. His knees and back were starting to ache from bending down and resting on nothing but the cold, hard floor, so he really wanted a hand, or maybe just a bigger brush like one of the ones he'd seen in (y/n)'s cleaning cupboard, but that wasn't gonna happen. Captain Man was keeping her all to himself, cooing into her ear and pressing kisses to her jaw, nose, neck, temples, forehead, cheek, anywhere his lips could touch and that meant that the heroine was too distracted to focus on anything but her adorable doof as he tried to heal the hurt.

"No, I'm talking about my dad," Henry replied firmly, leaving the kid to keep doing his laborious chore. Okay, no one had any ideas, not even his sweet, sweet girl as she tried to pull herself from her sorrow and so, Ray took the reins, using whatever he had in that superhero brain of his to both guide (y/n) into his side and think about his sidekick's predicament. "Okay, well, when does he start this new job?"

"Uh, tomorrow, I think. Yeah, he's gonna meet Mr Frittleman, sign some papers and then, that's it." Henry said, prompting them all to panic more when they heard about the alarmingly short amount of time they had to sort things out. Tomorrow would be here before they knew it and then it would be "bye-bye, hen, nice knowing ya" for all of them. No, it was thinking time, not crying and moping time, so the ones who were crying stopped and the ones who were holding it in got serious, everyone shaking their brains into action.

"All right, okay, pace, pace, pace, think, think, think...and snap! Buzz darts!" Ray smirked when one of his infamously genius ideas popped into his head, making Henry give him a confused face as (y/n) suddenly looked thoughtful. Of course, she knew what a buzz dart was and whilst she normally didn't approve of their use, not in a public environment, this was an emergency and she'd be there to supervise if she was thinking what her doofus was thinking. "I'm sorry, did you just say buzz darts?"

"Yeah, hang on a sec. This drawer's got everything..." Ray paused for a moment, carefully letting his fiancée step away from him so he could fish around for a small, black case that Schwoz had stowed away somewhere and he had a feeling it was around here somewhere. And he was right, that did have an endless supply of crap shoved into it and he gave (y/n) a victorious smile when he pulled out the right thing, glad to see her return the smile, even if it only had a fraction of the brightness. What he'd give to see her happy again...

"Have a look at this new Schwoz invention..."

"Buzz darts?" The boy asked as his boss flipped open the case, showcasing it to him and Charlotte as she came over from the couch. (y/n) didn't really need to see, she'd seen them every day almost back when they were still a prototype model and had giggled every time Schwoz made a mistake with the mechanisms or chemicals. All the buzz darts were a pair of cool if a little geeky glasses and a few tiny, pinprick darts lined up neatly, their multicoloured tail feathers standing out against the black foam background. "Buzz darts."

"And how do buzz darts work?" The girl asked, watching with a curious apprehension as Ray shrugged on the glass in the suavest way possible since y'know, his girl was watching and he snapped his head towards his sidekick. His first victims, perfect... 

"I'll show you... Hey, Henry?" Looking directly at the unsuspecting teen and before (y/n) could comment on how hot he looked in glasses (something new but not something she was complaining about) or how irresponsible it was to test neurological chemicals on kids, he tapped the arm of the glass. 

The light pressure activated the nanotech sensor and as quick as a flash, a previously loaded-up dart came rocketing from the glasses, aimed for Henry's head or neck. The dart was fast, but the kid was faster; like lightning, Henry's hand was suddenly in his face, fingertips clutching the blue needle that could have so easily been buried in his forehead if he didn't have hyper-motility. 

"Dude!" 

"Hey! You're only supposed to use your super-fast reflexes to fight crime, not to wreck my demonstrations." Ray scolded him as Henry glared at him in shock, wondering why he deserved to be the guinea pig. They were reflexes, the body's natural defence against dangerous stimuli and if something was flying towards his face, then damn right he was gonna stop it, it was just a natural response. Nothing to get so aggro about, jeez. 

"Well, I'm sorry but if I see a buzz dart flying at my face, I can't help but—"

"Ehhh, forget it!" The man snapped at his excuses, not caring about his feelings or anything since he now looked like an idiot. Well, if he couldn't use that kid then there was always another one available, one that he had no shame in testing his hot glasses on because he wasn't too fond of him in the first place. "Hey, Jasper?"

"What's up?" The boy asked politely, standing up from his sweeping and looking at his boss to see what he wanted now. Poor, sweet Jasper, he just wanted to lend a hand, but if only he knew he was walking into a trap. Using his unobservant nature to his advantage, Ray yanked his hand from his pocket and as quickly and sneakily as he could, he tossed a coin to the ground, making the girls next to him frown as they watched it roll across the tiles. Oh god, what was he up to?

"Oh, I dropped my quarter over there, would you get it for me, please?" Ray fluttered his eyelashes innocently, covering up the chinking sound of the metal with a not-so-subtle cough. (y/n) noticed how shifty he was being, not to mention how nice he was being to a boy who he'd always said to dislike. There was no way that he would use that level of manners with the kid unless he wanted something...

"Yeah, sure." Jasper nodded and being the good employee he was, scooted over to the supercomputer, looking for the quarter that had been flung under the console. Bending over the controls, Jasper's butt stuck out, giving Ray the perfect opportunity to line up and take his shot, and this time, there be no super-fast reflexes to get on his nerves.

"Ow!" The teen screeched when he felt a small, sharp pain in his ass, kinda like a bee sting but much worse, and he whipped around to see Henry, Charlotte and (y/n) looking at one man trying to appear guiltless. That sneaky little... it was obvious what he'd done, no matter how much he looked at his feet and the ceiling to avoid everyone's eyes.

"Raymond!" (y/n) scolded him, smacking her fiancée on the pec when she saw the needle sink into denim and flesh and she knew that it had been a cruel trick to play. She tried to be stern with him, tried to scrunch up her face so he could see how she didn't approve of hurting teenagers, but it was so damn hard when he was so cute. The glasses, his floppy hair, his huge muscles, the t-shirt that accentuated them so well, she was swooning. Hard.

"You look so pretty in this shirt, sweet girl..." The hero mumbled, fiddling with the sleeve of her faded t-shirt as if he was trying to tempt her into forgetting why she wanted to be mad at him. It wasn't a lie, he genuinely thought she looked so beautiful that day, or any day really, but seeing the blush spread across her cheeks, replacing the one that had been from her crying, made his heart speed up.

"Did you hit me with a dart?!" Jasper questioned angrily, breaking up the way they were staring at each other and he was glad he did. Although he'd only been working in the Man Cave for a much shorter time than anyone else, Jasper knew the signs of when they were going in for a kiss, the way their smiles grew and their eyes fell to each other's lips, it was so obvious... and so not the time for it when his ass was aching.

"Uhhhh, I'm not sure, why? Just let me kiss my girl..." Ray replied facetiously, wobbling his head in a way that was almost comical because he was trying to be obstreperous and stubborn. His hands were settled on (y/n)'s waist as she raised her eyebrows at his pouting and efforts to get away from what he'd just done, but then again, a kiss did sound quite nice. It was the glasses, the new bane of her existence.

"No, you're not allowed to kiss (y/n) 'cause when I bent over to get your quarter, I--erghhh..." Jasper started off strong, his tone harsh and scolding since he wanted to stand up for himself, even against the great Captain Man and for the first ten seconds, it was going well. He even got as far as walking over to the couch table and that's when it all went wrong.

"My body feels weird..." The boy groaned, feeling his muscles turn to jelly for a split second, causing him to collapse onto the table as they tensed and started moving all on their own. On his next step, Jasper's body began convulsing creepily like something out of a horror film as he stood in front of his horrified friends, a concerned (y/n) and his smirking boss. Yeah, Ray was loving the sight of the kid fighting thin air, even if it was a bit disturbing to hear him groan at the seizures.

"That's what buzz darts do?" Charlotte asked curiously, wondering if it was best to go and help Jasper, but when he started punching nothing and kicking his legs out, she decided against it. There was no way she was going near him when he couldn't control his limbs.

"Yeah, it buzzes through the air and when it hits someone's body, it doesn't cause any permanent damage. Y'know, it just impairs your nervous system for thirty minutes or so and you become...that." (y/n) explained, gesturing to Jasper as he fought to regain control over his body but to no avail. He was moaning and groaning, throwing his arms about and stomping around near the elevator like a demented zombie.

"And uh, how do those buzz darts help me not move to Bordertown?" Henry asked, taking his eyes off his best friend for a moment so he could look at his other best friend, who wasn't a professor or smart person even if his dart glasses gave him an air of intelligence as well as (y/n)'s longing gazes. Yeah, it was obvious that she couldn't stop checking him out and just as they'd witnessed for all those years, Ray was none the wiser. How did he not see>

"Simple," Ray replied and...that was it. He just yanked those beloved specs from his face and looked off into the non-existent distance like he was trying to be cool or something. Silently, (y/n) mourned the loss of how they framed his face and made him look so damn adorable, but the smirk he replaced them with was good enough for her, enough to make her ignore how awkward the silence was and let her mind drift to dirtier things instead.

"You gonna tell us?" Henry asked when his boss said nothing, merely stood there like a lemon or maybe like a Greek god just to make the woman standing next to him lose her cool when the muscles underneath his skin rippled. Henry, on the other hand, was less impressed and impatient to hear his explanation rather than see the icky, unspoken flirting between them.

"Sure. We disguise ourselves as Frittle employees. Then, we wait for your dad to show up for his meeting with Frittleman, blast your dad with a couple of buzz darts." Ray grinned, looking from the kid to his precious girl, who looked a little breathless for some reason, he couldn't think why. He could barely think of anything when he looked her way, she was just so darn beautiful. 

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah and then he's gonna be all--" Henry was cut off as he nodded along with the guy's devious plan, only for him to have to stop when Jasper rampaged past him like he was possessed. He'd be fine in a bit, tired from the workout his muscles were having, but fine nonetheless.

"Yeah, he'll be like "Hello, Mr Frittleman! Oh, what a beautiful factory you have here! And then there's no chance Frittleman will hire him to work there." Ray had a smug expression on his face as he imitated the way Jasper was walking around, his arms tight and muscles contracting as they were pulled into a T-rex position and he couldn't help but smile softly when he drew laughs from the kids and his sweet girl. He loved to hear her laugh, especially after she was so sad a few minutes earlier and he was glad that he'd been the one to cheer her up.

There was one thing wrong, though. In his mind's fuzzy pleasure at being the jokester he always was, he lost grip on that intelligence he was using before and foolishly picked up the tub of exploding mints from earlier. He popped one into his hand, an action that was overlooked by everyone since they were too busy celebrating his ingenious plan to see what he was doing. The jokester was about to become the jester, where everyone would be laughing at how dumb he was.

"Yes! That is perfect!" Henry exclaimed, not realising that his compliments were already inflating the man's already huge ego and therefore, he was hurtling towards swallowing one of the mints. Oh well, it was better that it was him than Henry or Charlotte and he'd never forgive himself if it was (y/n). She'd be on bed rest with him nursing her through the stupidly fast healing process, swearing that he'd never fully earn her forgiveness for leaving something so dangerous around, but he'd spend the rest of his life making up for it. Yeah, that would cause way too many problems.

"Yeah, who's smart?" Ray asked in a sing-song voice and oh lord, the irony. Without anyone knowing that they had to stop him, Ray threw the mint into his mouth, waiting for the minty explosion to come. He loved mints, they were what (y/n) could taste along with the bubblegum he chewed at random points in the day and he had no reason to believe anything was wrong...until the pill hit his uvula and exploded. 

What had been a moment of waiting for minty freshness turned into him gasping in agony when his indestructible teeth, cheeks, soft palate and hard palate withstood the blast, merely feeling like they were being incinerated and torn apart all at the same time, so y'know, nothing Captain Man couldn't handle. Ray opened his frazzled mouth to release the smoke from the mini inferno and screamed at the pain that filled his head, which normally would've been strewn across the wall by now, but he was fine. Just a bit stunned. 

"I don't know, who's smart?" Henry asked sarcastically as (y/n)'s face paled and she rushed to help him, not that there was much she could do. All she had to offer her doofus as he coughed and spluttered was her hand rubbing his back soothingly and her most worried face when his weight fell onto her, strong arms draped across her shoulders. Her silly doofus, he wasn't known for his brains, but whatever scrapes he got himself into, he always had his sweet girl by his side to patch him up.

"Oh my god, doofus, are you all right?!" She asked in concern as he wheezed and smacked his lips together, tasting something smoky. Perhaps he was imagining that he could taste his barbecued tongue if it was actually barbecued, or maybe he was wanting something else.

"I don't know, sweet girl. I think a kiss would make me feel better..." He told her slyly, wanting to use his pain as an excuse for tasting her lips and honestly, he deserved it. He'd taken that explosion like a champ and now, he wanted to replace the mint's taste with something much, much sweeter, if she'd let him.

"Uh-huh, sure." (y/n) rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was playing at as the kids groaned at how they were back to the gross stuff only seconds after the blast and they adverted their eyes to watch Jasper when Ray's hands grasped her waist and she pulled his face down his neck.  Their lips met softly, him sighing and melting into her when he finally found the honey to replace the bitterness coating his teeth and Ray moved to delve deeper, running his tongue against her bottom lip, striving for more, but then, (y/n) abruptly pulled back. Hey, what gives?

"No, let me kiss you, sweet girl." Ray pouted when their lips parted before anything interesting happened, watching as her nose scrunched up in disgust at the smokiness that assaulted her tastebuds, not the usual mint-bubblegum combination she loved. Ugh, she loved his attention but not when his mouth was so disgusting, he could keep his kisses to himself.

"Ewww, you taste like burnt toothpaste." She grimaced, trying to swish her tongue around to sweep away the ickiness he'd left but it would go and he wouldn't stop laughing. His girl looked so precious with her nose scrunched up and even if his fun had ended early, he didn't mind.

"And you taste like honey, I love it. I love you..." Ray gushed, unable to stop himself from going sappy when he tucked her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead, which felt scorching under his touch as she blushed. Is that what kissing her was like? She thought it was just her who thought their kisses were special and it was only her who thought she could distinguish a taste from all the other boys she'd smooched over the years, but he admitted that she was special too. Here came the swooning again. 

"And as much as I love you too, there's no way I'm gonna kiss you again unless you brush your teeth. Even your hot glasses won't work on me, sweetheart." (y/n) smirked when he took a moment to figure out what she meant by glasses, only to realise that she meant those glasses. Ohhhh, she thought those were hot, huh? Well, he'd save that information for later, probably get himself a real pair if they made her squirm for him, and in the meantime, he could work around the no-kissing thing.

"Oh, yeah? Well, then, I suppose I'll just have to kiss you elsewhere because I know that my girl is sweet in other places too." He watched as a soft gasp fell from her lips, the ones that were only a fraction of the honey he so loved to indulge in. Ray smirked as his hands left her hips and he sauntered over to the sprocket, leaving her trembling on the spot as the teens giggled at Jasper and he retreated to their bedroom. She couldn't run after him quick enough...

~The next day, the new Frittle factory~

Jeez, the new factory sure was something. Every brick had been placed perfectly to create a hip and exciting warehouse, production facility and distribution point all rolled into one and it looked so impressive. Everything on the outside was accented with purple splashes, tying everything into the Frittle brand and things weren't any less cool on the inside.

The place had that new factory smell; fresh paint, fresh concrete, fresh plastic, all mingling with the inescapable whiff of the oil and baking process that was used to pump out can after can of Frittles. Soon, that would be all you'd be able to smell, just the fat and savoury saltiness that came from making an endless tidal wave of chips but hey, the heroic trio wasn't there to care about the future of the company.

Ray, (y/n) and Henry had risen early that morning, wanting to beat the morning traffic since stupid Bordertown was miles and miles away and that wasn't the only task they'd had to do before they walked out the door. Of course, Ray and (y/n) had had a vigorous start, as per usual, and after crawling from their bedroom with a glow emanating from them that made Schwoz and Henry shiver, they'd donned their disguises and holy shit, they were hilarious. 

They weren't extravagant, obviously, this was a track, interfere and blend in mission, so clothes-wise, they were just sporting the usual Frittle employee uniform; beige khaki pants or jeans, sturdy service shoes and a bog-standard, blue polo shirt with the logo. No, the real laughter came when they looked at each other's faces, which had been altered ever so slightly so they'd not be recognised once they left. 

Henry had been given a ridiculous wig, one that made him look like some hippie type with a long, bushy ponytail clamped to his scalp and a wispy beard glued to his chin. Don't forget the silver, dangly earring he had too, it just completed his look, which made him look about twenty years older, so he was fine.

Ray had gone for something much simpler. Nothing big, nothing complex and certainly nothing that would dampen his good looks, so he just had a normal, short but not too short moustache glued to his face, tickling his upper lip every time he spoke. (y/n) wasn't a huge fan of it, stating that it made her face itch when he kissed her but still, at least he still looked drop-dead gorgeous, that hadn't changed. 

The young had also gone for simplicity, and had plonked an alarmingly vibrant, strawberry blonde wig on top of her head and shoved some glass onto her nose. She looked completely different and yet completely normal at the same time, so they were all good to go and once they had their fake I.D badges, they snuck inside with no problems whatsoever.

They stayed at the back as some guy, probably the shift manager or something, addressed his workers, quelling their complaints about not having a project manager with them because apparently, that person was crucial to their operation. That's where Mr Hart would come in with his bold, brainless ideas and that's what the heroes were waiting for, his arrival so they could set their plan into action. If only the supervisor person actually recognised them.

"Hey, you three." He called out to them once the crowd had dispersed, leaving three unknown workers fiddling with the controls at the back and he was suspicious. They looked weird and he wondered if they were new or if he wasn't as observant as he'd always thought he was, and when they did not answer, his confusion deepened. "I'm talking to you guys!"

"Hmm, what's up?"

"Hey, how are you? Love And life, brother."

"We were just working, nothing suspicious about us. Just honest workers." They spluttered the minute they saw his shifty eyes analysing every part of them and Ray, (y/n) and Henry knew that they had to get past this guy if they were gonna stand any chance of successfully turning Mr Hart into a nutcase. But even their friendly, relaxed demeanours didn't shake him off, if anything, Henry's shoulder-pat just made it worse.

"I don't recognise you guys. Let me see your badges." The man stated and he took a closer look at their identification cards hanging from their chests, the quick work of Schwoz since he was so damn good at faking documentation and the like. The three didn't argue, merely smiled tightly as they offered them freely, acting as though they weren't terrified of him seeing a fault or flaw that would prove that they were imposters.

"That's me right there. Joey Gladstone."

"I'm Danny Tanner and we work here, so, y'know..."

"Sabrina Phalange, that's the name my momma gave me." They told him with nervous chuckles, Ray and (y/n) linking pinkies behind their backs so that their hands wouldn't shake and it was all well and good when he picked up the woman's badge, seeing nothing wrong with hers. However, when it came to scrutinising Henry's he saw something he didn't like and it confirmed his suspicions.

"Whoa, whoa. This doesn't look like professional lamination." He replied, giving them each a hard glare before his hand dropped to his belt to grab his walkie-talkie. Oh god, Ray and Henry started barking excuses at the man as he went straight through to security, causing their hearts to turn to water when they realised that he was gonna get them thrown out or worse, arrested. 

"I need a security check on three employees. One says he's Danny Tanner, one says she's Sabrina Phalange and the other says he's Joey Gladstone--" The manager never got to finish his call to the team in security because as he wandered through the warehouse, getting close to the secluded corner on the right-hand side of the room, Ray and Henry got desperate. Looking around, they saw that no one was looking so they did a perfectly normal thing to do. They shot the guy with a million lasers.

"Uh, negative on that one, guys, all is well. Nothing is wrong, we are completely fine, please have a nice day." (y/n) rambled into the man's walkie-talkie as Ray dragged his sleeping body behind two steel drums. He'd be fine there, no one could see him and it seemed like whoever worked in security didn't give a toss about what was happening where they were and they couldn't get off the line quick across.

As the couple hid the body, which sounded a lot worse than it was, henry kept a lookout, trusting them to do the job properly as he scanned the room for any nosy parkers, but then he spotted something and dear god. This was bad, this was really bad, this was super duper bad and it was sat right on the counter, just waiting for someone to come along and have something really bad happen to them. Ray, what a numskull. 

"Dude! Are--are those your explosive mints?!" Henry asked his boss as he and (y/n) stepped away from the hiding place with their fingers interlaced and their faces innocent. Their eyes followed his gaze, landing on the same orange tub he was looking at and yep, those were definitely his mints. Why the hell had he brought them after they nearly burnt his mouth out the last time he used them? Was it because the events following had been so full of pleasure?

"Uhhh, yeah, dang it. I must have set 'em down." Ray groaned as he dropped (y/n)'s hand, internally scolding himself for being so careless. He was supposed to be a superhero and here he was being so forgetful. Well, there was only one thing for it, he'd have to go grab them before someone blew themselves up, at least that was (y/n)'s philosophy.

"Raymond, you have to go get them. They're too dangerous to be left lying around!" (y/n) hissed to him, her hand squeezing at his bicep as she watched the mints with a burning gaze, jumping whenever someone walked past or got a little too close for her liking. And Ray knew the pressure too, he was just as worried as she was, meaning he got grumpy when he was hurried.

"Uhh, all right, mom! I'll go get them!" Ray groaned, making her stick out her tongue at how childish his reply was, which was ironic in itself. Ew, she didn't want to be his mother because he wasn't her child, even if he acted like one. She wasn't his long-suffering fiancée, the one who gave him a similarly grumpy glare as he stomped past.

"Call me that again and I'll start calling you daddy..." She growled at him as he walked away, her frown turning into a smirk when his hands tensed into fists and his back and arms visibly became tight. Oh yeah, she knew what she did to him and for Henry, he normally would've groaned or gagged at how openly gross they were, but his complaints died on his tongue when someone he knew all too well sauntered through the door. Oh, god...

"Dude! Dude! There's my dad! That's my dad! He's here!" Henry gasped as his oblivious father chirpily came through the door, following a woman who was giving him the big tour of the Frittle factory. Acting immediately, Henry and Ray turned to frantically look like regular joes, scattering large bottles of the corn-gluten catalyst the company used in its Frittle production. But they were so terrified about the kid being recognised, they didn't realise that they were actually drawing more attention to themselves.

"You guys are acting weird and causing a scene!" (y/n) hissed to them as the racket of hollow plastic hitting their floor drew many eyes and caused murmurs from the rest of the employees working at their stations. They couldn't help but look at the two idiots messing about with the catalyst chemicals because they were so clumsy and the woman with them looked so flustered, something she was heavily aware of.

"Right here, you can see our main area of production." The cheery woman told Mr Hart as she gestured to the machines, workers and hundreds of Frittle cans being pumped out. Jake looked around with a similarly bright if a little dopey smile and admired everything around him. Ahh, that new job feel, it was so good and that played to the heroes' advantage as they pretended to wheel some carts away, knowing that their disguises weren't gonna be enough if the man got too close.

"And what do you call this area?" Luckily for them though, Mr Hart was way too interested in the tour and learning about his new workplace than studying all of the new faces around the room. He was also distracted with all his silly questions, some of which the lady had no idea how to answer because some things didn't need to be questioned. They just were. "Our...main area of production."

"Ah. Good. That's exactly what I would've called it." Mr Hart grinned at the puzzled woman and scribbled something down in his journal since he wanted to remember every little detail about his new job so he could really impress his new boss. That meant that from their nook, Ray and (y/n) and Henry could observe him safely, pondering how they were gonna shoot him with the buzz dart.

As the two started to look at the machines and whatnot, Ray took his chance, flicking open the glass and sliding them up the bridge of his nose now that his target was in the room and standing still. He also didn't miss the way that (y/n)'s tongue poked out to moisten her lips at the sight of his new eyewear, causing his tummy to flutter at the thought of her loving it every time he wore them. His girl found her attractive, result.

"All right, now, I'll just pop him with a buzz dart, he'll be wobbling around like a weirdo when he meets Frittleman." Ray chuckled as his fingertips brushed the sensor on the side, making Henry bite his lip in worry. He had a pair too and had pushed them onto his face the minute Ray did since (y/n)'s disguise ones were actually already loaded up. She didn't expect to use them, thinking that the boys could take the shot, which was ambitious when considering that Ray had fucking terrible aim.

"Yeah...I kinda feel bad about this, y'know making him lose his job here." Henry mentioned, making Ray lower his hand as they continued to watch their victim and (y/n) could understand where he was coming from. Yeah, it was a bit mean, but it was this or bye-bye Kid Danger, so they didn't really have a choice. "Ray's the boss, what'd you say, sweetheart? Should we let him go?"

"Uhhhhhhhh, no." Well, that was final. The hero didn't want to leave his sidekick's future in the hands of a man he deemed to be an idiot, he wouldn't risk it and because he was in charge, they were gonna do as he said. Henry nor (y/n) argued, merely sat back on their haunches as he lined up the edge of the lense to the kid's dad. Right, he was infamous for missing, so this time, he was gonna try real hard and ignore that little voice in the back of his mind that told him to let his sweet girl aim since she was so pretty and smart and sexy and deadly...

"Okay, Mr Hart...eat dart!" Ray growled and went for it, ignoring the voice and his surroundings as his finger pushed the release, sending a tiny dart zooming across the room...and straight for an employee crossing the room. Oh, fabulous; the dart shot through the man's water bottle cleanly, creating an entrance and exit hole and a lovely little fountain, meaning the dart was thrown off course or shattered on impact. Either way, it meant that the attempt had been useless and Ray's reputation as a marksman was still shit.

"You missed, doofus!" (y/n) groaned, knotting her hands in her fake hair when she witnessed how Mr Hart and the tour guide hadn/t even noticed the disturbance, and the guy was definitely not convulsing and twitching like a weirdo. He was, like, right there, how could he miss?!

"Only because Henry was breathing so loud!" Ray lied, trying to cover up that he'd missed because he was terrible. Okay, maybe five per cent of that was the distraction of having her so close and so needy from the moment he put those stupid glasses on, he honestly couldn't help but feel a little breathless, but he wouldn't push her away with an admittance. That would go against everything he and his heart believed in.

"What? No, I wasn't!" The accused boy exclaimed, looking at his friend with indignation at how he'd been called a panter. He wasn't some huffing and puffing heavy-breather, he was quiet and knew that Ray was talking out of his ass just to save his own skin.

"Yes, you were! I was trying to aim and you were all like, herrrherherhughhhh!" Ray mocked him, and the boy's anger flared up at how overly exaggerated and stupid his boss was being, not to mention highly unfair. He missed because he was crap and he was just too chicken to admit it.

"I don't breathe like that!"

"Sorry to say, but yeah, you do!" The boys argued back and forth, putting (y/n) in the middle of them as each refused to back down, two alpha males squaring off with brash opinions. Ugh, why do boys have to make such a big deal about things?

"Okay, stop arguing! You're gonna get us thrown out!" The woman hissed, smacking them both upside the head and glaring as she continued to look at Mr Hart and they went quiet. Ray was busy trying to get back in her good books after mildly annoying her, squeezing her hand and giving her that dumb look he always had when he was trying to be cute and that left a gap. A Henry-sized gap.

"You know what, let me shoot. Let me try..." He said and Ray begrudgingly allowed him to step past, albeit with a slight arrogance that the kid wouldn't be able to hit the target. He was Captain Man, if he couldn't do it, then how could his boyish sidekick? And so, he stepped back with some amusement on his face, an arm around his girl's waist as they stood back to watch his demonstration.

"No, no, abort, abort! Look! Look!" (y/n) whispered when low and behold, Henry was prevented from even taking aim as a short, sharply dressed man waddled into the workspace. Jack Frittleman, CEO of the Frittle company was here. His presence meant that they had to suddenly be on their best behaviour and that meant they had to look diligent and hardworking, not like they were about to fire a dart into a man's ass.

"Yeah, it's Frittleman..." Ray nodded and they all quickly turned their backs on the short man, terrified that he'd notice that they weren't one of his workers. That would be a tough one to get out of and even though they desperately wanted to get it all over and done with, the heroes had to wait for the opportune moment.

"Excuse me, Mr Frittleman?" The tour guide lady smiled at her boss, who had been quickly pulled to one side by one of his senior employees so he could sign some documents on shipping, production and purchases. He was a very busy guy, but despite that, he tried his best to make his tone airy and polite, although every CEO has an element of psychopathy to them. "What? Yes? Hi!"

"I just wanted to introduce you to our new project manager, Jake Hart." The woman smiled and Mr Frittleman returned one tenfold as he set eyes upon his new worker. Hmmm, a little goofy-looking, smartly dressed, yeah, he looked all right and Mr Hart was certainly keen to positively add to his first impression.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Frittleman." He said politely and warmly, offering his hand out for the man to shake since that's how most meetings go and he wanted to put his best foot forward with his new boss. However, there was one slight hiccup; Jack Frittleman didn't shake hands. Ever. That came from his psycho bit.

"Oh, I don't shake hands. People's hands are disgusting." He replied in a tight voice, visibly tensing his body at the sight of the outstretched palm and wiggling fingers in front of him. Ugh, those pink sausages had millions, if not billions, of bacteria crawling all over them and he hated to have them on him, even though his hands were also pretty dirty because that's just how humans work. Still, Jake overlooked his mysophobia and merely smiled softly, still eager to get on his good side.

"Oh, yes, especially mine." He agreed and he tried his best to make a small joke or something the CEO would like, and it worked for a moment. Frittleman laughed at his new employee, nodding along with what he said until the weight of his words dawned on him. Dirty hands? Ew. "Whaaaat?"

"Uh, nothing. I--I just wanted to show you my new tie." Oh god, where was he going with this? There was a reason that Mr Hart had failed at so many jobs and the big one was that he lacked so many crucial social skills. Not because he was shy or anything, just because he had an odd sense of humour and a strange way of getting out of tricky situations, it just made things a bit tense. "Your tie?"

"Yes, sir. Look, it's made of metal." Jake stated and lifted the fabric resting on his shirt, only it wasn't fabric, it was really was made from sheet aluminium. Maybe it was woven into the cloth or something, but either way, when lifted to a right angle, it didn't flop down, it was a perfect line. Huh, that did impress the guy, who apparently liked things all weird and quirky.

"Do you see this? Do you see what's happening?" Henry hissed into Ray's ear, leaning over (y/n)'s head as they watched the interaction from the hiding corner. Jeez, this was not going well; any minute now, Jake or Jack would move on and then their big plan would be ruined and all because they couldn't find a window of opportunity. 

"Yes! Now, calm down, will you? You're making me nervous!" Ray snapped back, trying not to let the pressure get to him and he had trained so that it wouldn't happen, but he still had a few nerves circling his stomach. What else could they do if this went wrong? Nothing, that's what and he was eternally grateful to the sweet girl who stood next to him. She grabbed his free hand and raised it to her lips for a kiss, just so she could calm him down and assure him that they had this in the bag. Maybe.

"Yeah, but my dad's about to get the job!" Henry exclaimed, trying to convey all of his worries into his voice because from the looks of things, his father was getting pretty pally with Frittleman and if the boss liked him, then he'd be hired on the spot, something them couldn't allow.

"Yeah, just wait. Let's see if Frittleman wants to hire your daddy after he gets a faceful of buzz dart!" The hero smirked and this time, he took no chances. He didn't go for a trick or a cool move, he just lined up the shot and--

"Move!" Oh dear lord, it was Piper. Piper Hart, the brat who'd caused him so much grief in the past, had just stormed into the building and was pushing past every worker in her path. Shocked to see the girl here, two hours away from Swellview, (y/n) and Henry each took in a sharp breath, the former reacting through instinct the moment she saw her.

"Oh god, it's Piper! What's she doing here?!" She panicked, and her body reacted in the only way it could think of; knowing that she needed comfort and support, her hand clutched onto Ray's forearm and accidentally made his body jerk...with his fingers on the arm of his glasses. His grip tightened and before they could do anything, a dart was released and buried itself into the girl's butt, causing her to scream and (y/n) to gulp guilty. Ooops.

"Great! You hit Piper!" Henry hissed, looking over at Ray with a glare as his sister yanked the needle from her skin, wondering where the hell it had come from. He was the one with the glasses, he should've been more careful, but no surprises, Ray didn't agree. Instead, he gazed down at his fiancée, who was looking a tad awkward at how she'd latched onto him with no warning whatsoever.

"Only 'cause (y/n) jostled me!" He argued, making the woman wrinkled her nose at the accusation, which was technically true. Okay, yeah, she held her hands up, guilty as charged, she did jostle him, but only because she found safety with him when things got tough.

"Didn't mean to..." She muttered moodily, looking down as she scuffed the stupid work boots she'd had to put on with her disguise and all the while, she looked like a scolded child. The kind of child who never got told off, but when they did they took it to heart and sulked for the rest of the day. Well, she would've sulked if not for the lips that cushioned against the top of her head, signalling that Ray could let it go because he could never be mad at her for touching him. Not even a little bit.

"Hello!!"

"How did you get here?" Mr Hart asked his daughter in an irritated tone as she barged into his private conversation with his future boss. Ugh, why did this one have to be such a brat? Here he was, on the cusp of landing a really great job, but his youngest had barged in and was setting him up to look bad and it showed in his voice how cross he was at the intrusion.

"I took three nasty buses with no wi-fi! Now, please, you can't take this job!" Piper yelled harshly, making everyone recoil at her volume and the sudden appearance of a child dressed in pink in his factory confused Mr Frittleman enormously.  She was here, talking to his new project manager, who was clearly annoyed by her presence and he couldn't help but ask since she was a safety issue. "I'm sorry, who's this girl?"

"Oh, I wouldn't know...uh, does anyone know who this girl is?" Mr Hart looked around the room sheepishly as he loudly asked if anyone knew who Piper was, which greatly offended her since he was ignoring their strong familial ties. He was ashamed of his own daughter, wow, that stung deep, but that wasn't what was on Ray, (y/n) and Henry's minds.

"Why isn't the buzz dart affecting her?" The boy asked as they watched and he couldn't help but wonder. It had been a couple of minutes since she'd been darted and back in the Man Cave, it had been seconds before Jasper was acting weird, so why wasn't Piper? She should have been convulsing by now, but wasn't, an explanation, please?

"Wait for it..." Ray held his finger, halting his sidekick's impatience and they observed with a little more patience forbearance as the girl continued to yell. They just needed to let the chemical spread through her body and Ray just knew that she was about to start acting out.

"Dad, I'm serio--" Piper started shrieking, but midway through, her tone was changed into a garbled groan as she began to do the freakish zombie thing, cramping up and jiggling all over the place as her nervous system was overtaken.

"My God, what's wrong with her?" The tour guide asked in horror as she, Jake and Frittleman watched Piper as she slapped at her dad and wiggled around violently and uncontrollably, making them think that she was having some kind of seizure. Should they call for an ambulance? 

"I don't know, but it's making me uncomfortable. Hugo! Chavez! Could you take this, uh, child away?" Mr Frittleman grimaced as two of his strongest employees came to grab Piper, who was promptly dragged away kicking and screaming like a lunatic as the buzz dart fought her body. Mr Hart was tempted to follow since she was his responsibility but then again, she'd be fine and was always around, but this job interview was a fleeting chance of moving up the professional ladder. He couldn't miss this. "Glad she's gone!"

"Me too!" He smiled, at ease now that Piper had been taken away, but the same tranquillity couldn't be applied to the hidden heroes as they scrambled to make another attempt.

"You have another dart in your pocket? In your right pocket?"

"Yeah! Yeah! I got it!" Henry snarled at his boss as the man pushed him to hurry up. They'd bought spare darts, just in case, and they couldn't help but rush to get everything into the glasses since it was looking likely that Frittleman would be moving on soon and Jake would go onto the next part of his tour. They had to act quickly, but snapping at each other wasn't gonna help.

"Calm down, just put them in the glasses!" (y/n) whispered to them, her fingers working alongside Henry's as the boy fumbled getting the tiny projectiles into the right holes, so she helped him out in that regard as Ray kept watch.

"If you'll just sign this contract right here, you'll be a Frittles official project manager!" The tour guide woman grinned at Mr Hart and handed him a contract of employment that would sign him up for a long term of working for the company and a long term of suffering for Henry since it was like he was also signing his life away. Oh god, they couldn't let pen touch paper, if he signed that contract then they were finished.

"Now, this is fantastic!" Mr Hart squealed, clutching the pen tightly as he prepared to scratch his name down in cursive, but his son had other ideas. Ignoring how his heart said it was cruel, Henry adjusted the position of his glasses and aimed, the likelihood of him hitting his father much higher than it was with Ray.

"Okay, dad, it's time for you to--" Henry went for the sick line, trying to add just a little bit of coolness as his finger hit the button, but he had been talking out of his ass too. Honestly, they should've just let (y/n) do it because the kid's aim was just as lousy as Ray's and he missed his dad, who he'd forgotten had been wearing a metal tie. The buzz dart bounced off his body, pinging on the aluminium and ricocheted into Jack Frittleman's cheek, making him shriek at the pain as Ray and (y/n) groaned. How could he hit the tie? It was shiny and so obvious not to hit.

"You hit Frittleman in the face!" (y/n) cried, whacking Henry's chest as the boy paled at her and Ray's disgusted faces. Okay, at least he'd actually gotten the dart near him, even if his dad was dumb and wearing a stiff, heavy tie that could save him from being shot, he'd done more than Ray, that was what his argument was. "Well, it was a ricochet!"

"Wit was a wichoway!" Ray mocked him as they watched Frittleman start to stumble, knowing that he was about to turn into a raving madman. Would Jake sign if the boss looked like a weirdo? Maybe he'd be put off the idea of working for the Frittle company or at the very least, they'd stopped him signing for just a few moments.

"Hugo! Chavez! Help! There's something in my face!" The businessman yelled to his assistants, forcing them to come out from the hall and see their boss as he started to strut like a chicken and wave his arms like one of those inflatable men outside a gas station. The rest of the workers on duty looked on in horror and bafflement as the usually reserved and proper man lost control of his limbs and kicked out at his surroundings, behaving like his polar opposite.

And that's when it all started going wrong for poor Jack Frittleman, that's when he accidentally set off a chain of events that would ruin his life all over again. 

He crashed into a wall, knocking a portrait of himself off the wall in the process, and that then fell onto the trolley holding all of the catalyst bottles and caused the first shelf to collapse. Then, a hammer was flung across the room at a great velocity, eventually hitting a valve that was twisted to hell so gas started to escape. The hammer then bounced off a control panel, denting the buttons and causing them all to blink and malfunction as the conveyor belt was sent into meltdown.

The entire production machine started pumping out hundreds of cans of Frittles from how damaged the circuits were and it seemed like history was repeating itself as things started to go to shit pretty quickly. Whatever that alarm was, it did not sound good.

"My mug!" Frittleman yelled as his favourite cup was flung across the room whilst everyone screamed in panic and worse things were yet to come. A basket-looking thing dropped from the ceiling, hitting a propped-up mop as it dropped to the floor and when the mop hit the main controls, everything was past the point of salvation. The machine literally exploded in a ball of fire and sparks that made everyone jump at the wave of heat and Ray clenched his teeth at the alarm of doom that suddenly sounded. Not again...

"What's--what's happening?!" Mr Hart yelled above the noise and chaos that was happening around him and he found himself quite fearful at what he was sensing; panic, danger, shit going wrong, this wasn't how he'd imagined his tour going, not before he actually signed onto the payroll anyway. Two men ran in as an automated voice started to repeat "warning, warning" over and over again, making their faces pale as they saw the sudden increase of heat and pressure in the ovens.

"ˇhe corn compressors are building up an extreme amount of pressure! I think it's gonna blow!!" The man, who (y/n) guessed was a corn compressor engineer, shouted, turning to face his boss and fellow Frittle employees with a faceful of fear for both the danger they were in and at how his boss was gonna react.

"Oh, not again!" Jack cried to the ceiling, feeling his heart hurt at the thought of losing another factory to a fat-powered explosion and Jake reacted off of his panic. This was fine, a little tense, but he could handle pressure, and this was his chance to prove that he deserved the job that quickly was slipping through his fingers faster than he could blink. "It's okay, I can manage this! I can manage this project!!"

"We gotta do something, we gotta do something now!" (y/n) exclaimed to her worried doofus and friend, looking from Ray to Henry for some idea as to what they could do, and the answer was pretty obvious. The workers were panicking and there was an imminent, deadly explosion coming that in their experience, was gonna wipe the entire place out. Well then, there was only one thing for it.

"All right, all right, all right," Henry calmed her as they crossed the floor, no one questioning who they were or what they were doing there because there were bigger things to worry about, and the boy grabbed the announcement tannoy. "Uh, hey, hey, hello. Uh, attention, everyone, this is Danny Tanner, a Frittle employee. I work here--what do you want me to say?"

"Run!"

"Get on with it!" Ray and (y/n) hissed at him as the kid dithered about what he was saying to the already confused people in the room. They needed a snappy, clear instruction to give them so everyone cleared out, not a load of gobbledygook as he debated what to say. 

"Run!" That was more like it and upon hearing the simple, clear instruction to save themselves, the workers, Mr Hart, the tour guide lady, Hugo, Chavez and Frittleman himself legged it from the room. Ray, (y/n) and Henry were the last to leave, having ushered everyone to the emergency exits before leaving for safety since they were the superheroes, even if they weren't in uniform.

Well, there was a slight diversion. Being the greedy so-and-so's they were, Ray and Henry decided that a golden chance had been put in front of them, namely in the form of hundreds of cans of free food. The Frittle cans were just theirs for the taking, who cares if the whole place was melting down, they could just grab a few armfuls and then run, no biggie, no problem. 

"Let's go, this place is about to go!" (y/n) yelled to them, heading for the door as they scanned the room and saw that everyone had cleared out, meaning they were free to leave now that they'd done their duty. Ray nodded at his sweet girl, reaching out to grab the hand that she offered him and sprinted to guide her safety, Henry hot on his heels.

"What are you doing, you morons?" The woman screeched when the boys had second thoughts as they pushed through the door. All those cans just screaming to them, it was too much to ignore, so Ray dropped his sweet girl's handing, promising himself that he and Henry would only be a second as they hugged armfuls of Frittles to their chests.

"Oh my god, just leave them, we can get some at home!" She yelled at them again, forcing them to abandon their efforts and scramble through the exit as they realised that she was right. That alarm was particularly scary and they'd already wasted a few precious seconds, which meant that Ray couldn't leave his girl in jeopardy any longer.

With their claimed Frittles cans scattered on the floor, the heroes left them behind and made it out of the building with only moments to spare, narrowly dodging the huge explosion of the entire Frittle factory that left the building ruined. Oh dear, Mr Frittleman was going to find it hard to pick up the pieces after this fuckup...

~Later that night, in the Man Cave~

"Apparently, everything was fine with Henry. He said he's not moving." (y/n) told her doofus as they got dressed for bed that night. She was brushing out her hair and removing her jewellery at the vanity unit whilst Ray was laying on the bed, waiting for her to join him. Goddamn it, he looked so fucking good just stretching out in his underwear after a very long, stressful day, akin to a god as his muscled tensed, but she had to take everything off before she snuggled into the soft bedsheets.

That's why she was in yet another one of his t-shirts, a long, cotton, black shirt that drowned her just like all the others did and left her looking tiny but they were just so comfy for sleeping in, she never minded. And Ray was way too in love with how she looked in them, drenched in something that was his and smiling because of a joke he said, it was just heaven, and he didn't have it in him to stop that.

"Well, yeah. His dad lost his job before he even got it, so... I get my sidekick back." The man smiled softly as he scratched the underneath of his chin, a picture of comfort and relaxation as he melted into the pillows and studied her every move. He'd be branded a liar if he said he wasn't relieved at Henry being back with them and for good, but he wasn't the kind to show sentimentality, not in front of anyone but (y/n), that is. He could be himself around her, emotional, angry, dumb, happy, she took all of it and loved it as he loved her. Fully. Unapologetically. With everything he had to give.

"And you're happy about that, even if you were grumpy and grouchy when we dropped him off at his house." The young woman teased him playfully, rubbing the last of her scented lotion into her arms and standing up from the vanity, her engagement ring carried in her hand since it always stayed next to her in a ring dish as she slept. The table was too far away for her liking and she liked knowing that it was close, especially when he pulled back the comforter with an eye roll at how she was so right on a topic he would never tell. 

Yeah, he was her doofus and he showed it by reaching out a hand to grab her hip as she padded across the room and slid down the mattress, not even lying fully flat when he started to pull her towards him, eager to have her small form wrapped over his. It had been a long day, he wanted to softness she brought, a stark contrast to the hardness they often experienced and it wasn't like he was forcing her into cuddling.

They always had the same position for general sleeping. If there was a particularly traumatic event, then one would be spooned and supported by the other through everything, but on most nights, it was just a matter of not being able to get close enough. Leg over his hip, head on his chest, arm around her back, fingers threading through her hair as his second arm pulled her hips until they were almost on top of his. They were like jelly smeared on toast, a messy tangle of limbs and torsos amongst the pillows and blankets as she sighed at them taking their natural position, so warm, so safe, so right.

"I was not grumpy, sweet girl. Just... didn't get overexcited..." Ray muttered as his lips hit her forehead, allowing him to press several, constant butterfly kisses across the expanse of skin there, making her smile into his neck even as she understood what he was saying and took a mild form of offence.

Okay, maybe she had tackled Henry in a bear hug before he'd left the car, maybe she'd shed a tear or two and maybe she'd told him how glad she was to still have her friend around. Maybe that happened or maybe it didn't, she wasn't proud of how she'd swamped the boy, but then again, she kinda was too. Just because he now towered over her didn't mean that he wasn't the sweet little kid she'd met all those years ago and by no means did she care any less about him. (y/n) was glad that Henry was staying, and whilst she may have gotten overexcited by just a tad, she'd do it all over again if it meant her family stayed perfect.

"If that's a reference to my hug with Henry, then I'm gonna go sleep in the other room." She joked, knowing that it was an empty threat on her part since this was way too good to just get up and leave, the whole being laid on top of her fiancé thing was just too blissful when compared to sleeping alone, so she didn't really mean it. However, that didn't mean that Ray, who knew that she wouldn't since he could hear her light, playful tone, from tensing his grasp on her, anchoring her to him like he was afraid to lose the softness that soothed his nightmares into dreams of sweetness.

"Noooo, don't go..." He whined, rubbing his face into her neck so she could feel his high-pitched neediness reverberate against her throat, making her skin prickle at the sensation. His breathing was soft and steady, so it shouldn't have exhilarated her as much as it did, shouldn't have made one of her hands lift to his head and push his face further into the crook, begging him to connect his lips to her pulse point. And that gave him an idea. "...or there'll be no morning sex for you."

"I won't risk it, then. But for the record, I think we both know that you wouldn't be able to keep your hands away anyway." (y/n)grinned as she felt featherlight kisses trail up the column of her neck, tickling her more than anything and drawing giggles from her lips when he chuckled. Yeah, she had him to a tee, knew that even if she could hold off and play stubborn, he couldn't, not for anything or anyone. Being denied his sweet girl in the mornings, that seemed so cruel...

"I think you're right, sweet girl. I can't resist you--can't say no to you." Ray confessed to her, releasing a small sigh when her fingernails dragged against his scalp. Sleep was setting in quickly and they felt too tired to actually move or do anything overly active or substantial, not at this time or after this day. There was one good thing though, they had set a slow simmer for their desire and come tomorrow morning, it would be blazing, enough to set the day up in the best kind of way. "Which is lucky for you..."

Damn right, she was lucky. She had a man willing to do anything for her in her arms and his loving words being mumbled into her skin just for her to hear. The chitchat and banter continued for a few more moments but nothing was sweeter than those words he gave her, a small confession that told her of his devotion to her. To her. 

(y/n) had never been possessive, it wasn't in her nature to control someone else and covet them, she knew what that was like and hated it. No, this wasn't possession she felt for Ray, it was deeper, just a deep longing to hold him in her heart, or rather, a deep longing to love him. The adorable yet courageous doofus was hers, she got to call him that and hopefully, one day, she'd be able to call him her husband.

That sounded like a pretty good life to her.

[dukemeropide]

starter for @ragnvinedr

The bustling streets of Mondstadt had more than enough to occupy a few days’ time for any visitor, especially during festival season, but no vacation was complete without sightseeing. Or so Wriothesley had been told by his melusine travel advisor who, as if to ensure that he would indeed make the most of his time spent outside of the Fortress’ iron walls, had requested a few photographs of Mondstadt’s landmarks as souvenirs. A sly one, that nurse, but had it been a particularly onerous request, or an unpalatable idea, Wriothesley would have refused it outright. As it stood, he didn’t really mind it (his reluctance to venture too far into the unknown would remain ever-present, whether it be in Mondstadt or Fontaine, and thus hardly a factor). The snow-capped mountains and the crystal-clear lake had both captivated him on his way to the city, but where he had been content to admire them from the balcony of the hotel, with a glass of wine or one of Mondstadt’s local teas, Sigewinne had insisted on the necessity of getting out. So out he went, spurred by her sentimental request to make use of the sad old kamera that had otherwise been gathering dust in the Fortress’ collection of confiscated items.

While his time in Mondstadt had so far been only a scant few days, the weather had never been less than pleasant - from a brilliant blue sky across which a handful of fluffy white clouds made their lazy treks, to a sun that was neither overbearing nor shy, it was like the nation was eternally a scene captured in a picture book. Wriothesley had snapped a few amateur shots of the landscape from the city gates knowing that he would owe whatever skill evident in the developed photos to this particular quality, but walked the rest of the way to Windrise without the obstruction of a lens. There were some things that simply could not be captured in a photograph - the way the massive tree dwarfed the fields here, for one. And how, in turn, that tree was but an ordinary one in the shadow of the mountain that loomed behind it. Not to mention the smell of grass, the crisp, clean air, and melodic birdsong that all came together to make a bucolic idyll from a simple hill.

It would make a fine place for a picnic one afternoon before he returned to Fontaine, if he could find the company, but there was another place that he wished to see before settling down in any one location. Among the many rumors he had overheard at the Angel’s Share the previous night was one of the fairies in the Springvale lake, which aligned with folktales he had heard throughout his life of the lochfolk that once belonged to the waters of Fontaine. The hike from Windrise to the backside of the village was not a long one, and Wriothesley expected to make a full circle all the way back to Mondstadt by sunfall, but the acrid stench of hot metal and burning grass stopped him halfway, unexpected as they both were here where everything had appeared so at peace. From the cliffs rose a magnificent falcon of flames, soaring into the sky and evaporating into fading embers, with the sound of explosions in its wake.

The decision to change course came without thought, and Wriothesley took off toward the curls of black smoke. Appearing among a scattering of rocks, metal parts, and charred grass was a man with hair as bright as the inferno that bathed his blade, and an activated ruin guard, smoking and sparking but no less lethal as it leapt and landed, dislodging boulders from the cliffside with its weight. Wriothesley curled fingers into fists, dropping his center of gravity as he sprinted into range with only one thought in mind: danger. The ruin guard planted its arms and leaned back. One second. One shot. The eye at the center of its head glowed brighter.

“Mind if I cut in?” Wriothesley called good-naturedly to the swordsman, but if the swordsman had anything to say about his involvement, there was no time. He’d already made a straight-line punch into one of his piston-powered gloves, steam blowing out the back to power the rest of the strike. A blast of cryo burst through the machine’s eye and sent it staggering back, but not down. With the groaning of ancient metal, it tried to right itself again.

Crimson Agate in the Snow [Wriothesley & Diluc]

November Commission | Ruin Guards

[crimsonophelia]

holidays and festivals with genshin characters ||

many thanks to my bestie hani for giving me inspiration for many of these~

featuring: zhongli, venti, childe, razor 

warnings: none

published: april 14 2021

form: headcanons

zhongli - lantern rite festival

okay but i’m genuinely upset at how they barely featured zhongli in the lantern rite quest unless you actually played as him :c

but anyways! the liyue lantern rite festival is heavily inspired by the traditional chinese holiday called the lantern festival (元宵节), so i think a lot of the things that you would typically do to celebrate lantern festival would apply to lantern rite as well

i think zhongli would take lantern rite quite seriously, as most chinese do, and he would make sure to plan weeks in advance his days off from work and what he will need to do to prepare to celebrate lantern rite with his friends

when the morning of the festival arrives, he makes sure to come visit you bright and early, much to your dismay

he bids you a good morning, helps you get dressed, and takes you into town to run errands. and, as expected, zhongli has once again forgotten that mora is a key element in financial transactions and requires your monetary assistance unsurprisingly

liyue is donned in bright shades of red and jewel, and families are out and about viewing the beautiful decorations, reminded of their beautiful and prosperous land and of those who protect it

zhongli would take you around, asking you to buy buying little trinkets for you and for you to gift to others as a sign of well-wishing for the holiday season. you and zhongli also purchase heaps of street food, exclusively available around lantern rite week, and zhongli probably eats more than you’ve ever seen him eat.

once the sun sets later in the day, you two watch the lanterns and lightshow, in awe of its beauty. you turn to see zhongli’s reaction, and as the stars and lights cast a magical glow upon his face, he seems more content than you’ve ever seen him before. perhaps spending lantern rite with a beloved companion has done something for the old man’s weary heart.

venti - windblume festival

all i have to say is that venti is a drunk mess the entire time the festival is in mondstadt

he’s on a drinking spree trying to taste test all the different new cocktails and wines that the angel’s share is selling exclusively during the festival season, and is not apologetic whatsoever that you have to deal with his obnoxious drinking habits

in addition to his little side hustle going on, scamming innocent people of their money by teaching them how to write “love poems”, i also feel like he would make some extra cash for booze by reselling random flowers, claiming that they are actually real windblumes or something like that

but i do think he would have the decency to save some of the mora he makes to spend on you during the festival season. venti isn’t stupid and it’s a little bit concerning how smooth and tactful he actually is when he chooses to be so, hence i do think that he would actually treat you to some nice things ;)

however, he isn’t as big on buying gifts as zhongli is (ironically, considering zhongli is probably more broke than the traveling drunkard) so i think he would make a lot more homemade gifts for you, like a hand-picked flower bouquet and a self-brewed dandelion wine drink

if venti hasn’t officially confessed his love before windblume, i think he would take this opportunity to make it official and take things a bit more seriously.

venti walked over to you after his poem masterclass with a sheet of paper in his hand, a little sheepishly, which was unusual for the cheeky little bastard

he says the class went well, and he hands you the paper he was holding. 

“i showed them this example i wrote. give it a read. pretty good, isn’t it?”

neither the lampgrass, nor the dandelion, or the delicate cecilia, nor the vibrant aster, could ever compare to the way my heart beats faster, when you spare an ounce of your beauty, spending your love on a poor, old, drunkard like me.

impressed, you lift your gaze, and to your surprise, the little bard looks more genuine than you’ve probably ever seen before.

“keep it. i wrote it for you.”

childe - maslenitsa

okay so my good friend, who is russian, gave me the idea to write about childe celebrating maslenitsa (an eastern orthodox holiday that is related to easter), and i am by no means orthodox nor eastern european (so please forgive any cultural misdescriptions), but i do think this is a super cute idea

i think childe would get some time off from being a harbinger to celebrate with his family, which is a rare treat for the fine-tuned warrior whittled down to little more than a hedonistic machine by the tsaritsa 

like truly, i feel so sad when thinking about childe sometimes because he’s so kind to his family, especially his brothers, and the fact that he’s away on missions for so long must make him miss his family a lot

that’s why during the holidays, he really treasures every second he gets to be back home, and now that he gets the chance to take you to meet his family, he’s even more overjoyed

there is still a thin layer of snow on the ground, but there is a slight scent of spring making its way back into the household as ajax and his brothers help their mother prepare ingredients to bake bliny, the buttery smell wafting through the kitchen

the boys are a mess as ajax is particularly clumsy with tasks that require dexterity of the fingers, and he ends up getting flour all over his clothes as well as his shorter brothers, and thus receiving a scolding from their mother

being the teasing little brat he is, he smears some of the flour onto your nose when you aren’t paying attention, which calls for even more chastising coming from his mother while she mixes all the ingredients together. 

the total domesticity of the scene melts your heart, and seeing ajax laugh with such tenderness and without any barriers obstructing his heart might be one of the most bittersweet things you’ve ever witnessed, knowing he inevitably will have to return to a life of danger and uncertainty

bonus: razor - windblume

i literally don’t have any fleshed out ideas for this but my friend and i were talking about how he would try and pick wolfhook berries for you during windblume, because he thinks that’s what the windblume flower is and he wants to express his care for you by giving you the most special flower he can find :’)

like he would ask to take you to wolvendom on a walk, and you acquiesce because who could ever refuse razor

whenever you two are alone together, razor tries his best to talk and form the most proper and eloquent sentences that he is able to, and he does try very hard, really, but often to no avail

but you reassure him, “razor, baby, it’s okay, i can understand you without words just fine” and he blushes because nobody has ever called him “baby” before T_T

when you’re in wolvendom with him, he holds your hand in order to not lose you, and his grip is a little nervous at first but gradually gets more confident and his fingers fit more comfortably between yours. he will walk ahead of you, creating an easy pathway through the dense flora, and will pull you up by your waist in case the terrain becomes difficult

once he finds the biggest and plumpest wolfhook berry, he gives it to you with both hands outstretched, gaze averted out of timidness

you accept his lovely gift and ruffle his hair a little bit and the boy melts T_T and from then onwards he gives you a ton of gifts in the form of random little flowers or berries he finds because that’s how he shows his care for you 

can you tell i started listening to mitski halfway through writing this

[zeta-in-de-walls]

Tommy and the role of ‘hero’

Hey, this little essay is discussing how Tommy’s character has struggled with being called a hero and hows it’s been a significant part of his character arc for Season 2 of the SMP. It’s not a title he ever gave himself yet it’s a title he’s burdened with all the same. 

Funnily enough, I don’t recall Tommy ever being called a hero before Technoblade’s damning speech on Nov 16th, where he compared Tommy to Theseus. 

Tommy you just did a coup. You just did a hostile Government takeover and then immediately instilled yourself as President. And then you gave it to your friend but that’s still a tyrant Tommy.

But the thing about this world Tommy, is that good things don’t happen to heroes. Let me tell you a story Tommy, a story of a man called Theseus. His country, well his City-State technically, was in danger and he sent himself forward into enemy lines. He slayed the Minotaur and saved his city. You know what they did to him Tommy? (”What did they do?”) They exiled him. He died in disgrace, despised by his people. That’s what happens to heroes Tommy. The Greeks knew the score. But if you want to be a hero Tommy, that’s fine. 

Do you want to be a hero, Tommy? Then die like one!

Technoblade’s speech is a frustrating one at first. It begins by essentially calling Tommy a power hungry tyrant despite that being far from the truth - Wilbur was the one who formed the Government and Tommy rejected power. He trusted it to Wilbur who then chose Tubbo. Schlatt wasn’t even killed by Tommy, he died of a heart attack after being abandoned by every one of his allies so it wasn’t even really much of a takeover at all and it wasn’t Tommy. Yet this speech was entirely directed at Tommy.

But the latter half is different, accusing Tommy instead of trying to be a hero who thinks he’s saving the world and that he’s doomed to have a bad end. It’s interesting as never has Tommy claimed to be much of a hero. Tommy’s always just fought for the things he cared about. Indeed his response to Techno’s speech suggests the same.

“I’m not the hero. No one’s the hero! We’ve got L’Manburg for each other.”

But of course, Techno’s words stick with him all the same. Particularly the bit about a tragic end as Tommy becomes very, very aware of his own mortality in the arcs that follow. To Techno, a hero seems to be a naive figure who tries to do good but is destined for failure and tragedy. 

But there’s another path Tommy fears even more. One that he’s witnessed firsthand. Becoming the villain.

Let’s be the bad guys. Tommy, why not? Our nation’s gone. our nation’s far behind us, Tommy. Let’s blow that motherf*cker to smithereens. Tommy, I say if we can’t have Manburg, no one - no one can have Manburg! ...L’Manburg.

This is a new era! We burn the place to the f*ckin ground, I want no crops to grow there ever again.  I want f*ckin mycelium and cobblestone, it all covered, Tommy. I want it all gone! 

Tommy, let’s be villains.

Wilbur was Tommy’s hero. He loved Wilbur dearly and wanted nothing more than to be a good right-hand to him and make him proud. But when they lost L’Manburg and were banished, Tommy saw Wilbur changing, saw him giving up home and deciding he’d rather destroy the thing they’d worked for and blow it all up. After Wilbur made this speech, Tommy argued, making it clear he was entirely against his plans. Even saying that it wasn’t the moral thing to do. He said not to give up hope, that everyone wasn’t against them and that Wilbur’s ideas were reckless. But he stayed with Wilbur and continued to support him, hoping that he could convince him to change his mind. Tommy failed. And Wilbur died.

So, the Tommy at the start of S2 just wants to go back to his old life, a simpler time where he doesn’t have to worry about L’Manburg anymore as it’s in safe hands and he can focus on his personal concerns once more - like his music discs. He doesn’t want to be a hero or a villain, he merely wants to be happy again in a world without Wilbur. 

But there’s someone else watching him. Dream. 

I think it’s no coincidence that Dream wanted Tommy exiled by his own people. I think he was deliberately trying to make Techno’s speech into a reality. Dream had become rather obsessed with Tommy and treated all their interactions like a fun game where he played the villain and Tommy, the hero. It’s not a narrative Tommy himself liked but all he could do was play along. 

Dream had him exiled and this seriously pushed Tommy to his limits. On the first day, Techno briefly visited and asked him why he was still trying and he answered that he always gets back up and he would keep on fighting Dream. But as his exile progressed he slowly lost his will to fight. Slowly Tommy stopped believing that his exile would ever come to an end and that people still cared. 

In exile Tommy had a lot of time for reflection. Here’s something Tommy says days into his exile when he’s begun to lose all hope and is starting to accept that maybe Dream’s his only friend. 

Everyone always tells me I was the- the hero of this server. The one that came and f*ckin fought Dream - the only one that ever spoke back to him. But maybe I was just... maybe this was just meant to be. 

Tommy’s got complicated feelings about being a hero. To him it means standing up to Dream, never giving up - that’s what he believed people expected of him. But in his exile, he began to give in to Dream. He begins to express how no one cares and that the only reason they ever pretended to care was when he had status - when he was part of L’Manburg. There’s this implication that he felt like people only cared about him when he was being the selfless hero. When he was trying to be selfish for once, causing trouble like he used to and wanting to focus on his personal disc war rather than on L’Manburg, he got exiled. (Of course, this is Tommy’s biased perspective not how others actually viewed him.)

Tommy eventually escaped his exile, finding renewed courage to fight against Dream. Except, he’s still scared and uncertain and feels confused about Dream. He feels lost and clings onto Technoblade for support. 

With Technoblade, Tommy starts to feel more like himself - but Techno also influences Tommy, turning him more against his friends. (I think Techno’s character genuinely thought they didn’t truly care about Tommy, likely not realising how much they had also been manipulated by Dream.) Technoblade gently encourages Tommy to be more violent and wants him to help blow up L’Manburg. 

This is where Tommy’s fear about becoming more like Wilbur come into play. Tommy did not want to become a bad guy - he’d had nightmares about it even. But in his time with Technoblade, after how helpless he’d been during his exile, being given some power lead Tommy to start lashing out more violently, he began to get more aggressive - alarmingly so even. Technoblade’s path was one of revenge, dealing with his own pain by causing others to suffer (for noble goals, fighting corruption etc I don’t want to get sidetracked though this is about Tommy). Technoblade’s presence was helpful to Tommy, helping him to get over much of his fear but he still lacked in agency and still felt lonely knowing he hadn’t made up with his friends.

Tommy finally came to his senses at the festival, where he realised he was fighting his best friend and putting his personal attachments - his discs - over Tubbo. And that was wrong. He realised he was becoming just the sort of person he didn’t want to be - he had been on the path to becoming like Wilbur. And he rejected that path. He wasn’t going to be a bad guy. Just because he was hurt didn’t justify hurting others. So he reconciled and once more committed to protecting L’Manburg, having put his personal desires aside. It seemed like he’d put himself into the role of selfless hero yet again.

And he failed. Again. 

Dream tells him how it was a fun game to him. And how their story was not over. Tommy though, had become extremely tired of it. He didn’t want to play Dream’s game. 

They meet up again. And again, Dream talks to Tommy like he’s important - like he’s the key to everything. He wants Tommy to play the role of hero and has been manipulating events for a long time to keep pushing him, to keep taking things from him. Being a hero, which Dream believes Tommy wants, simply means playing along with Dream’s narrative.

Tommy, you want to be a hero, right? You want to be the hero of the server. And every hero needs an origin story, right? Batman had his parents, Spiderman had uncle Ben, you have Tubbo, right? 

In the end, Tommy refuses to play Dream’s game anymore though. He called for help and got saved by everyone else. Then he killed Dream twice and had him locked away for good.

And once more, Tommy decided to do things for himself again. He decided to live peacefully, working on a project, talking to various people on the server and trying to avoid making waves and getting into any more conflict. It’s a good end.

He rejected Wilbur’s path and he defied Technoblade’s predictions and he didn’t lose his best friend to Dream. And now Tommy’s trying to avoid playing the role of hero anymore. It’s not a title he ever gave himself but one thrust upon him. Yet it’s one he’s keenly aware of. And one that, despite everything, he can fulfil.

Tommy’s arc has been in some respects about defying the expectations of others - but he also can’t help but fight for the things he loves. He realises his troubles were not that his friends didn’t care or that he had to play a role but that his life was being controlled by Dream and now he’s free of that. No longer is he so weighed down by expectations but when there is a sufficiently threatening enemy, he has not lost his determination to challenge it. 

[chuckaf]

Chuck Fic Rec List: Updated

So my fic rec post was in my notifs again the other day, and I noticed a while back that the formatting on the post has gotten all messed up and it’s also had like three reblog additions to it anyway meaning there are three versions out there lol. so, I wanted to do another list of chuck fic recs! I’ll keep the other one up still, so I’m not gonna repeat every fic here, just some I really recommend. I’m also adding the fic summaries, which I didn’t on the old post, and some more of my own opinions so, buckle up for a long post!

Chuck Versus the Steampunk Chronicles | Steampunk.Chuckster

1896. A world powered by steam, where humans and machines coexist, and airships are the fashionable mode of transport. The US Empire's deepest and darkest secrets arrive at Chuck Bartowski's doorstep. Have they fallen into the wrong hands? Or will the inventor prove his mettle, even while he's forced to hide from the very people he's protecting? AU, ongoing chronicle, Charah.

A genuinely incredible AU story, with an entire crafted world and universe, so detailed it frequently blows my mind. There is heart and family and infuriatingly brilliant slow-burn, plus a buttload of danger and super fun historical/steampunk action. Oh how I LOVE it.

Chuck vs the Charade | somedeepmystery

When computer nerd Chuck Bartowski returns home to an empty apartment and a dead girlfriend he finds himself embroiled in a deadly game of espionage and deceit. Everyone around him is playing a part to get what they want and when he starts falling for the new woman in his life, he can't help but wonder if he can trust her or if she's the one he should fear the most.

An action and twist-filled AU based on the movie Charade, which is just such a brilliant fic concept I absolutely adored it from the start.

Two Sides of the Same Coin | dettiot

When you're a spy, there's all kinds of occupational hazards when you work with another spy. For Sarah Walker, though, one mission becomes a life-changing experience. Because working with Charles Carmichael leads to protecting Chuck Bartowski.

The first time I read this fic my mind was just blown to its genius. Such a brilliant interpretation of what the Intersect and its concepts set up in the show could be, and ooooof the Chuck/Sarah interactions, my HEART. Related to it, its companion piece:

A Flip of the Coin | dettiot

What made Charles Carmichael agree to become Chuck Bartowski? Well, to start, it wasn't as much of a change as you'd think. A companion to the early chapters of Two Sides of the Same Coin from Carmichael's perspective.

Chuck vs The Butterfly Effect | n7agentbartowski

Chuck Bartowski is a normal guy who just hit rock bottom. No girlfriend, no career and no super computer stuck inside his head. It isn't until Chuck meets a gorgeous stranger on the beach that he begins to think his life is about to change for the better. An AU Chuck fic without the Intersect. "Change one thing and it changes everything."

I said it on the OG post, but this story has one of my top 5 Chuck/Sarah fic meetings. So funny, so... very Chuck. The story is a little angsty overall, but a great read.

Chuck vs the Rogue Spy | Crumby

When a rogue spy from Chuck Bartowski's past shows up to help him during his first solo mission, Chuck hopes that he'll finally find out what happened to Sarah Walker. Post-S2 AU.

There’s a lot of Season 3 fix-it fics out there, which I don’t usually read bc I actually love season 3 lol, but this one’s a good one! A twisty deviation from canon, but still feels really true to character.

Chuck Versus the Nerds Rewrite | Steampunk.Chuckster and David Carner

What happens when two nerds talk endless hours about their favorite TV show? A new take on the show you know, but with the flair, twists, and turns you've come to expect from Steampunk . Chuckster and david . carner. Somewhat canon. Charah.

As the summary says, a different take on the show, which honestly makes a couple changes I would too, but also adds a bunch of fun twists and plots that make it totally new and fresh. Seeing Chuck and Sarah’s thoughts in the more canon sections is just delicious, too.

The Trapped Assassin | SarahsSupplyCloset

After a mission goes awry, the CIA's most lethal assassin is ordered to take vacation while her superiors figure out what to do with her. But when she meets a disarming tourist, their immediate connection only adds to her disillusionment with the agency and her career. Will he be enough for her to finally take the plunge and leave the only life she's ever known? Charah AU

A warning for the very justified M rating if you don’t like that sort of thing, but this is definitely a plot-heavy fic, too. A really neat Sarah-heavy AU, with a whole lotta Chuck/Sarah fancy French vacationy goodness.

Chuck vs the Second Chance | malamoo

AU from mid-season 2 and onwards. Chuck and Sarah part ways only to be reunited years later. COMPLETE.

Literal, crying-at-my-screen angst. Not even a super happy ending. But a brilliantly written, part-reflective/flashback fic, exploring what would’ve happened if Chuck and Sarah’s relationship really was an assignment all along-- and the aftermath. It’s heartbreaking. But if you want a little heartbreak, this is your fic.

Ready at Your Hand | dettiot

In the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, a Catholic plot against the queen comes to the attention of spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham. To protect Elizabeth, he develops an unusual plan: hide the passing of intelligence between two agents by a false romance. When Lady Sarah Walker and Chuck Carmichael meet, though, their pretend flirtation becomes much more.

I love Chuck fic for the very reason that it’s inspired such adventurous and totally unique AUs. Here’s some Elizabethan fake-dating Chuck and Sarah! They have to be so Proper, it’s like that hand moment from Pride and Prejudice but Elizabethan and times a billion. The pining!!

Sarah Versus Getting Married | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker is getting married. Canon. Charah.

I’d recommend all of SC’s fics if I had the room, and I’m already recommending a ton sksks but most of my fic recs are AUs, and this one isn’t! It’s canon, and covers some of in the gap in 4x24, with Sarah just before the wedding itself. Super sweet, heart-tugging, brilliant.

A Chuckmas Carol | Mikki13

A new twist to Dickens' beloved "A Christmas Carol". When Sarah begins to shut out the world around her, three spirits come to show her the error of her ways. Season 3 AU.

Another Season 3 AU, this one written pre-series so it definitely doesn’t fit to canon, but it’s still wonderfully rich in character depth and angst and it also made me cry. Plus, festive!

Chuck Versus Thin Ice | Steampunk.Chuckster

On the doorstep of the Olympics, top American curler Sarah Walker has lost her mixed doubles partner and her boyfriend in one fell swoop. Her coaches throw newbie Team U.S.A. curler Chuck Bartowski onto her team and thrust them into the Olympics, hanging America's curling hopes on two people who only have a short amount of time to learn to trust one another. Charah AU.

Do you like curling? Or the Winter Olympics? It doesn’t really matter because somehow this fic made me extremely invested in both of those things, as well as Chuck and Sarah and them being INSUFFERABLE. Catch me now knowing a ton about curling thanks to this fic.

Walker’s Eleven | Moonlight Pilot

Not the same plot as the movie. Sarah Walker never got out of the con game or became a spy, and now she's on her final con. What happens when true love and betrayal get added to the mix? Twists, turns, and Jeffster!

Con!Sarah always interests me, and this fic is full of her. Lotta con plot, lotta Chuck and Sarah.

The Detective and the Tech Guy | thecharleses

Sarah Walker is a Pinkerton detective. Chuck Bartowski is an electronics genius. They wouldn't have met except for a case of mistaken identity and murder. Will the detective and the tech guy solve the mystery, distracted by the riddle in their own hearts? An homage to The Thin Man film series. Formerly co-written by Steampunk . Chuckster and dettiot, now ONLY Steampunk . Chuckster.

Everyone in this fic is so damn cool. There are so many martinis. But also great heart and family and like, standing up for who you love, and later also Chuck with Baby Clara content which frankly the show robbed us of. Also, PI!Sarah!!!

Gravity | Poetic4U

AU. Sarah makes a decision that altered her life forever.

This is just a one-shot, which many of these stories are not, so a good one if you don’t fancy a big read! Just because it’s short, though, doesn’t mean it’s lacking; a really awesome what-if AU, and heavy on the Chuck and Sarah.

A Yuletie Tale | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker was dumped the day before Christmas Eve, and her Plus One at her work’s annual Christmas Eve Soiree is now officially a Plus Zero. Her best friend Ellie Bartowski has a solution to her problem, and Sarah finds she isn’t quite as sure about it as Ellie is. AU Christmas Charah.

I’m particularly in love with this fic because, instead of beginning with a meet-cute, it involves Chuck and Sarah already two years into a friendship-- Sarah is Ellie’s best friend. And she’s been crushing harrrd on Ellie’s brother. Also Chuck is in a tux. It’s pretty.

Set, Spike, Dive! | Frea O’Scanlin

Chuck never expected to even make it to the Olympics. Everything is working against him: he's too tall for a diver, too inexperienced for a medal, too much of a wildcard to really make his mark. But an unexpected meeting at the airport, some intriguing new friends, and a whirlwind romance on the sand just might set up London 2012 as the time of Chuck Bartowski's life.

A London 2012 AU, because why not. This is just a fun Olympic-y ride!

OTP (One True Pairing) Prompts | David Carner

A series of Prompts I found online about different times and places in Chuck and Sarah's life. Mostly AU, mostly one-shots. I assume mostly fluff, but I might get deep. I doubt it, it's me. Charah...ALWAYS (It says complete, but if an idea strikes me...)

If you’re not so into long stories, this fic is perfect. Individual set-ups and stories, all Chuck and Sarah, and all super cute. You could dip in and out and just pick a scenario you enjoy.

Chuck vs The Frontier | ninjaVanish

AU: Chuck was enjoying a simple life as a 19th century watchmaker until an encounter with a beautiful Secret Service agent thrust him into a world of intrigue and adventure he never wanted. But then, with Agent Walker around, it can't be all bad, can it?

This fic gets props for being historically-set but still including the Intersect. Again, a historical AU, so the pining!! the need to be Proper!!! But besides all that, there’s a lot of action fun as well.

Chuck Versus The Crosswalk: Remastered | WvonB

Will a last minute mission help our two favorite characters finally get together? This is the remastered version of my first story.

The original version of this fic is on my first list; this is the updated version! It’s not a complete AU, instead a story that diverges from canon, so if you’re more into canon characters and setting than a new AU scenario, this is a great fic for that.

Little Girls, Paper Wreaths, and Choc Chip Cookies | DanaPAH

Very AU: Sarah Walker is a single mother whose Christmas spirit needs a boost after a tough divorce. She isn't quite ready to go looking for romance, but her little daughter's affection for their new neighbor may lure it right to her doorstep, anyway.

An incredibly sweet AU one-shot where Chuck and Sarah are new neighbours, and Sarah has a super cute little girl. So much sweetness and love and hope. I love this fic so much it literally led me to write my own neighbour-kid-AU, so, not to toot my own horn but I’ll link it here anyway.

May Your Walls Know Joy | halfachance

Looking for a fresh start after some tough times, Sarah and her three-year-old daughter move to LA. When they meet a sweet curly-haired nerd who lives next door, though, Sarah realizes they might just find more happiness than they'd ever imagined, if only her past doesn't catch up to her first. AU.

It’s what the summary says; if you wanna read, feel free!

Chuck vs the Sound of Music | quistie64

AU. Chuck, nerd extraordinaire, is a man with seven children and Sarah must protect them all from Fulcrum's evil designs. Warning: there will be singing.

I mean. Not much mystery as to the concept with that title and summary lol, but this is a super fun, soft ride with a lotta sweetness, and yes, singing.

Just Two People | David Carner

Meet Sarah Walker PhD, Psychologist, specializing in personality traits. Meet Chuck Bartowski, man who has left THE electronic company of 2020. When Burton Consultants tries to figure out what is wrong with the morale of Orion Industries, what happens when a guy named Chuck meets a woman named Sarah. I'll give you a hint, it's me writing.

David’s done something pretty special with this fic. It’s Chuck and Sarah centric, but very much an ensemble piece, too, with a lot of Team Bartowski and other familiar faces throughout.

Chuck Versus the Con Game | Steampunk.Chuckster

AU. Chuck and Sarah are partners in the con game. It's an existence wrought with danger and violence. Every day could be their last. Every mission could be the end of the line.

This is where I freak out SC and declare this fic the reason I ever got hooked on Chuck fic and then wrote Chuck fic, and the reason I still love it today but. that is true lol. Just so. so good. It’s also written with the chapters out of chronological order, which is super fun from a reading perspective. But con!Sarah AND con!Chuck?? Best. The kind of fic you will be thinking about for days (if not, y’know, years).

As you can tell by the repeats, I highly recommend just about anything by Steampunk.Chuckster, dettiot, or David Carner, but there are a TON of amazing Chuck fics and authors out there. I’ve never known a writing community so wildly creative-- there are so many unique AUs and canon explorations and story concepts that this show has manifested, and it’s all so much fun.

Most of the Chuck fic community is still over on FFN rather than AO3, so if any of these whet your appetite, feel free to have a browse there for more stories. I’m sure you’ll find something great. Personally, all the incredible writing there has also led me to write a buttload; I’m at halfachance on FFN, so if you see any of my stuff or wanna chat fic, feel free to message me there or here.

Happy reading, folks!

[aion-rsa]

Why Turner Classic Movies is Reframing Problematic Hollywood Favorites

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Breakfast at Tiffany’s is a movie Alicia Malone fell head over heels in love with during childhood. Seeing it more times than she can remember in her native Australia, the future author and Turner Classic Movies host still recalls failed attempts to launch a high school film club with Audrey Hepburn’s Holly Golightly as the star attraction.

“I thought for sure people were going to get excited about classic movies if they watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s because it has so much life to it!” Malone says today. How could they not fall for Hepburn’s iconic performance, which Malone still describes as luminous? “Holly Golightly is a complex female character, and for the times it was quite sexually progressive.”  Yet there was always another element, even in those halcyon days, which Malone recognized as uncomfortable—that discomfort has only grown to modern eyes.

Beyond the movie’s bittersweet romance between a pseudo-call girl and the kept man living in the apartment upstairs, there’s a grossly racist caricature of Japanese Americans in the movie’s margins, and it’s portrayed no less than by Mickey Rooney in yellowface makeup. It’s technically a small part of the movie, only appearing briefly and sporadically, but each time the character arrives, it’s like a sledgehammer swung across the screen. For decades the performance has been rightly criticized by Asian American advocacy groups, and even Rooney acknowledged late in life that if he knew people would become offended, he “wouldn’t have done it.” Nevertheless, the shadow that character casts over the movie has only loomed larger with time.

“I just kind of hold my breath and half shut my eyes every time Mickey Rooney shows up,” fellow TCM host Dave Karger says during a Zoom conversation with Malone and myself. “Mercifully, he’s gone pretty soon, and I’ve chosen actively not to let that performance ruin the movie for me, because ‘Moon River’ and the party scene, and George Peppard looking so great—there’s just so much to love and appreciate, so I actively choose to focus on that.”

Despite those personal struggles with the movie, Karger and Malone are both unafraid to examine the full implications of Rooney’s Mr. Yunioshi head-on. It’s why they hosted, alongside Ben Mankiewicz, a lengthy discussion of the character’s legacy last week during a special Turner Classic Movies presentation. That conversation was part of TCM’s Reframed series, a new season of content from the network which looks at some of the most beloved Hollywood classics of the 20th century—the crème de la crème, as Karger describes them—and studies why they can also be problematic and, in some cases, stunningly offensive. In the case of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, that can even lead to larger discussions about prevailing anti-Japanese attitudes and stereotypes in American society that persisted in the immediate decades after World War II… and can still be found as echoes in the anti-Asian stereotypes of today.

For Karger and Malone, these are the types of discussions TCM hosts have been having off-screen for years. So bringing those dimensions to the forefront for new generations of viewers felt only natural with Reframed.

Says Malone, “We often talk to each other about how we approach certain films when it comes to writing our scripts for our intros and outros for each individual film. We also talk with the producers about what we should bring up, what we shouldn’t bring up; if we should talk about an actor or director’s problematic past during that particular film, or if it doesn’t go with the content of the movie.”

So the five main hosts of TCM–who also include University of Chicago Professor Jacqueline Stewart and author Eddie Muller–were eager to have these frank discussions on screen while offering historical context from a modern perspective.

“All of us at TCM are watching the world change and watching the culture change,” Karger says, “and even though we show movies by and large from the period of the ‘30s to the ‘60s, we all realized that it doesn’t mean we can’t be part of today’s cultural conversation. It’s not a stretch at all to talk about classic movies from a point-of-view of the 21st century; that’s very possible to do, and I think a lot of our fans are looking for that kind of context when they watch the channel.”

The Reframed series, which was spearheaded in part by Charlie Tabesh, the TCM head of programming, and organized by producer Courtney O’Brien, looks to balance what Karger describes as the push and pull between nostalgia and criticism. Both Malone and Karger are acutely aware of the hesitance some classic movie fans might have about evaluating works from nearly a century ago through a 21st century prism, however the new program is intended to renew engagement with these movies—particularly in an era when there are just as many loud voices that attempt to dismiss or wipe away the legacies of these film’s from the cultural canon.

“That’s really important to remind everyone that this series is not here to shame these movies or to tell anyone that they can’t love these movies,” Karger says. “And if there’s a frustration that I’ve had in this last month, it’s to see some of the reaction to this series be along the lines of ‘you’re part of cancel culture with this series.’ It could not be more the opposite of that. We’re not cancelling anything; we’re showing the films a hundred percent in their entirety, we’re just talking about them.”

Malone further emphasizes this is what can keep so many of these movies vital in an era when sequences like the aforementioned Rooney scenes in Breakfast at Tiffany’s are being deleted from a Sacramento film festival—effectively erased from the collective memory.

“I think everyone at TCM sees this as the way forward,” Malone says, “the way that we can continue to make sure these movies stay alive for younger generations. We can continue talking about them, discussing them, they can change over the years, our feelings can change about them; you can love a film and not be able to justify parts of it at the same time. What’s so important though is just to have the discussion, to talk about these problematic areas and face up to them rather than hiding them. To me, if you take out a film from existence or you just delete parts of a film, you’re in a way saying these problems never existed.”

Indeed, even the opinions of folks as steeped in this history as the hosts of Turner Classic Movies can evolve as the culture does. Ben Mankiewicz, for example, is TCM’s unofficial statesman but he surprised some viewers two weeks ago when he revealed during a Reframed discussion that he can no longer comfortably watch Gunga Din (1939), a rollicking adventure movie set in British India. Based on a Rudyard Kipling poem, that classic film’s influences can still be felt in more modern blockbusters like Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984). However, Gunga Din is also a movie that glorifies the British Empire at the expense of then-contemporary Indian independence movement, with the villain being a character who Mankiewicz noted is physically modeled after Mahatma Gandhi, who would’ve been seen as subversive by some white audiences in the ‘30s.

“I’ve never been a huge fan of that movie, even though Cary Grant is my favorite actor,” Karger says. “And I was even a little surprised when Ben and Brad Bird included it on [the TCM program] The Essentials last year. Not because it’s not a revered classic movie, but because it’s more than a little offensive. And it was fascinating to be part of that conversation with Ben, talking about the evolution of his feelings for Gunga Din, because he’s been with the network 15 years. I can’t imagine how many times he’s talked about that movie, and it’s just showing you that culture and history are living, breathing things.”

Opinions change. Malone had a similar experience when she joined Mankiewicz and Muller to discuss John Ford’s seminal Western, The Searchers (1956), a movie where the director began reckoning with his depiction of Native Americans on screen. The film is a touchstone to this day for filmmakers like Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, and George Lucas. Mankiewicz and Muller note that Ford is grappling with the racism of his earlier films via John Wayne’s lead character, an unrepentant bigot who becomes both the movie’s protagonist and antagonist. However, the film still bathes Wayne’s character in heroic imagery, and still relies on Native American stereotypes.

“Watching The Searchers again with the lens of talking about it during Reframed, I just saw so much,” Malone says. “I know John Ford was trying to have a conversation about racism involving Native Americans, but there’s just no doubt that many of his films contributed to the very dangerous and horrific stereotypes based around Native American people. And I think Native American people have suffered greatly because of the way they’ve been stereotyped in Hollywood films.”

That subject of intent comes up quite a bit during the Reframed series; Karger describes the movies they discuss as running the gamut from mildly problematic to extremely offensive, yet that ambiguity should invite education about the times they were made in, as opposed to preventing audiences from knowing about those eras.

Says Malone, “I think [Reframed] does show an attempted evolution on the parts of the filmmakers, and that’s interesting. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and The Searchers, and My Fair Lady are trying to comment on a particular issue. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers comments on the sexism of the brothers in the film; My Fair Lady comments on the misogyny of Henry Higgins; and The Searchers comments on racism. But at the same time, they are also sexist, misogynistic, and racist.” She ultimately concludes movies can be both progressive and not progressive because of the times they’re made in.

Read more

Movies

From Hitchcock to Star Wars: What Makes a Great MacGuffin

By David Crow

Culture

Was John Wayne High Noon’s Biggest Villain?

By David Crow

My Fair Lady (1964) will be the centerpiece of TCM’s final night of Reframed programming this Thursday. A lavish big screen adaptation of Lerner and Loewe’s Broadway musical, which itself was an adaptation of George Bernard Shaw’s 1913 play, Pygmalion, it deals with the story of cockney flower girl Eliza Doolittle (Audrey Hepburn) being remade into Professor Henry Higgins’ (Rex Harrison) ideal woman through diction lessons. And the fact the musical, written in the 1950s, changed the more transgressive ending of the original play where Eliza leaves Higgins behind, will invariably come up on Reframed.

“Some people would look at that and say, ‘My Fair Lady? What could be the problem with that? It’s a very strong female character who stands up for herself and has so much agency and power in the movie,’” Karger admits. “But then when you really look at specific scenes, particularly the end of the movie, which is what I think we talked about a lot, there are certain things that just kind of make the movie, for me at least, have the tiniest bit of a sour note.”

The question of whether My Fair Lady is a sexist movie or rather a movie about sexism became the heart of its Reframed discussion.

Adds Malone, “We also talk about the fact that that ending has been changed by some stage productions. That is happening now, and we also talk about the idea of the makeover movie. I think the Pygmalion myth is something that’s fairly sexist and outdated when you look at it, but there’s also so much to love about My Fair Lady.”

The opportunity of having these discussions has been a gift for Karger and Malone. They both stress they don’t have the answers to all the questions they raise, and that even with added time for the outros on Reframed, there is no way to cover everything that needs to be said about a film in a handful of minutes.

“I thought about multiple things I wish I said or I forgot to say, or just didn’t have time to say,” Malone says. However, she hopes the series gives viewers the tools to begin engaging more seriously with these films and embrace a greater curiosity about the past. On tonight’s line-up alone, Malone and Karger will both get to engage in discussions of films they lobbied to have included in the Reframed series.

“I had just a brief conversation with Charlie [Tabesh] about including something around the idea of gender identity, or the transgender community, because I wanted to delve into that,” Malone says. “And of course from there, it becomes what do we have the rights to? What’s in license, what can we show? So there are certain limitations on the types of films we can show in the series.” The film they ended up agreeing on is Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho.

“I love the fact that it is one of the classic movies that everyone should watch, a horror classic,” Malone adds.

Karger by contrast will be discussing another Audrey Hepburn movie, this one dealing with Hollywood’s history of depicting LGBTQ characters on screen.

Says Karger, “I will never forget watching the documentary The Celluloid Closet in the mid-1990s when it was released, and that was one of the seminal moments for me, as far as looking at film critically. This was a history of LGBT characters in film history over the years, and one thing you learn when you watch a documentary like that, there was this trope in films where if there was a character who was gay, that character would not live to survive at the end of the movie. That character would either be murdered, have some kind of horrible accident, or end his or her own life.”

He continues, “So you think of The Children’s Hour in the early 1960s and at first you think, ‘Oh this is something to applaud. Shirley MacLaine and Audrey Hepburn playing two women who may or may not be lesbians. Wow! This is a great thing to bring attention to.’ And then you realize they couldn’t even use the word lesbian in the movie… then the character who ends up being gay also ends up being dead by the end of the movie, and I just think it’s this unfortunate trope that tells people, consciously or not, that you can’t be gay and you can’t be alive in society… It’s a shame, because it came so close to getting it right but you realize it didn’t have the opportunity to get it right in 1961. It couldn’t with all the restrictions in the film industry and society in general.”

It will be the last night that TCM dives so directly into the murkier waters of some of Hollywood’s legacy, although both hosts hope for a second season of Reframed. Karger, who admits he shouldn’t spend so much time on social media, has seen the predictable social media reactions of “you’re ruining these movies” by talking about these elements. But he’s also been heartened by responses from fans who wished TCM provided Reframed discussions on movies that aired later in the evening, like Stagecoach (1939) or Tarzan, The Ape Man (1932). Karger says if he has it his way, they’ll include all those movies in a second season of Reframed.

Meanwhile Malone would really like to continue a thread begun with the screening of the Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy classic, Woman of the Year (1942), from several weeks ago.

“I love having discussions for films where we talk about the representation of female characters,” Malone says. “That’s something I’ve done a lot of work on, so that’s something I’d like to continue—to talk about the way women have been portrayed in films throughout Hollywood history, and we could talk about that in terms of their beauty and how that was seen to be the most valuable quality a woman could have, or the way they could search for love. I love all the women’s pictures that forces the woman at the end to give up everything for love, but for most of the movie she is a fantastically independent woman.”

Other examples of this trope she cites are His Girl Friday (1940), and nearly every movie Katharine Hepburn made after The Philadelphia Story (1940).

Karger conversely would be interested in revisiting movies with extreme age differences between couples.

“I’d love to look at films like Gigi or Love in the Afternoon,” the host says, “because I think there are some people who have issues with the much older man and much younger woman pairing. And I think I’d love to hear what my fellow TCM hosts have to say about that, because you never see it in the opposite direction.” In fact, based on just this one comment, Malone began thinking aloud about all the ageist movies spawned by Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962), a camp horror classic that kicked off what Malone describes as “hagsploitation.”

When it comes to revisiting (and reframing) Hollywood classics, the options for learning more are limitless. Not that the lessons should be intimidating.

“I think it’s quite exciting the way things change,” Malone says. “Society changes so quickly, and you learn more and have different opinions, [including] on films. I love being more educated and finding out more of my own blind spots and trying to fix them.”

Reframed continues that search on Thursday March, 25, beginning with My Fair Lady at 8pm EST.

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[winterfrostlovetriangle]

Christmas Magic

Hey all! I decided to take a break from my Magnus series and write this Loki Christmas one-shot. I apologise for the length.

Summary: It’s Christmas, ya’ll. Can the magic of the season bring two people together?

Warnings: body shaming, but mostly fluff, and a bit of protective Loki

Masterlist

*gif not mine

Beep, beep! 

The sound of your alarm clock startled you from slumber. Groaning you reached to turn off the offending noise before flopping your head back on the pillow and snuggling under the blankets. Closing your eyes, you tried to fall back to sleep, but it seemed your body was done resting. You got out of bed with a sigh. 

Since it was just a week before Christmas, the Avengers had been given some well deserved time off. Fury agreed to the holiday knowing just how much everyone needed to relax and recharge. The past year had been particularly hard. Yes, you were superheroes it was your job, but one can only go so long before they burn out. You were honored to be counted among the group. You couldn’t imagine your life without any of the men or women - they were your family. 

Walking to your ensuite bathroom, you thought about how much your life has changed in the last decade. You hated your life - your family never loved you and you never had any friends. Everyone always teased you or pushed you around; mostly because of your size. You didn’t have the perfect body and being plus-sized was not easy. No matter how many diets you tried, nothing ever worked. When you turned sixteen your life changed forever. Your parents threw out of the house because they deemed you dangerous. Why you ask? Because you were a mutant. On the morning of your sixteenth birthday, you somehow acquired certain abilities that could be classified as magic. So because they were afraid of you and what you might be capable of, your family turned their back on you. You were on your own for two years, afraid of yourself and powers. One day though, you met Nick Fury and Tony Stark. They offered you a home and a chance to use your skills for good. 

Skip forward to ten years later, you were a proud member of the Avengers. A knock brought you back to reality. Looking towards your door, you saw something slide underneath. Using your magic, the object flew through the air and into your hand. You sighed again, knowing exactly what it was. Every year Tony threw extravagant Christmas Eve parties. Not being a partier yourself, you had only attended one of these events. It had ended in tears and lots of chocolate. Many of the female agents were rude to you. Teasing you about your weight and even calling you a freak because of your magic. Needless to say I never went to another party. 

Taking the invitation out of the envelope, I wondered if Loki would ever ask me. You laughed at your silly fantasies. First off, the god of Mischief was your best friend. The two of you understand each other better than anyone else could have. He was not the man everyone believed he was. Loki put on a show of being a tough, uncaring person, but behind the mask, he longed to be loved. He was gentle and caring when you got to know him, and it certainly didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous. Oh well. You would never do anything to ruin your friendship. And secondly, why would he ever return your affections? In the world’s eyes, you were not considered beautiful. No man, or god, would ever have romantic feelings towards you. You shouldn’t get your hopes up - if your own family never loved or accepted you, why would Loki?

Blinking back tears, you stood up and walked to your full-length mirror and examined yourself. Nope, definitely not worth it. You looked at the invitation one more time, quickly tearing it up and throwing it to the floor. 

“What did that piece of paper ever do you, Dove?” a voice asked.

You whipped around to see Loki standing inside your room leaning against the door with a smirk on those beautiful lips of his. 

“Ugh, Loki how many times have told you not to sneak up on me like that?” you huffed. “Don’t you ever knock?”

“I did, but when you didn’t answer, I was worried something had happened to you,” he explained. 

You rolled your eyes. ‘Right, whatever you say. Sure you weren’t just trying to sneak a peek?”

Loki put his hand over his heart. “You wound me, Y/N. I was only worried for your safety - I am no peeping Tom.”

“When have I ever been in need of saving?” You laughed. “I can take care of myself.”

“Well, maybe someday. I hope you know that I will always be there to save you,” Loki said seriously. You noticed a look strange look pass over his face. 

Suddenly you realized you were still in your nightgown. Cheeks flushing a pale pink, you used your magic to change. 

“Breakfast m’ lady?” Loki asked offering you his elbow. 

You nodded with a smile, threading your arm through his. You chuckle to yourself as you thought back to how you and he became friends.  It was a rocky start. He was an arrogant, egotistical maniac who looked down on everyone. He hated everything and everybody. Slowly though, you chipped away at his walls. After a while, he began to open up to you and even offered to help improve your skills. He told you about his past. Your heart broke for him and was able to identify with him to a small degree. You became each other's confidants and spent most of your free time together. And somewhere along the way, you had fallen in love with this god. And little did you know, Loki had fallen for you too.

The next week was spent having snowball fights, building snowmen, making Christmas cookies, watching movies, and party prep. Your favorite times were spent with Loki, talking and drinking hot cocoa in front of the fire. The team was really enjoying their vacation and were able to relax. Everyone was feeling the season working its magic. 

As the festivities drew nearer, Nat kept trying to convince to go. 

“Come on, Y/N, you really should come. Tony says there will be lots of dancing, amazing food, and fireworks.” Nat pleaded. “I heard even Loki is coming this year, and that never happens. You should come and keep an eye on your boyfriend,”  she smirked. 

You rolled your eyes. “You know perfectly well that Loki is not my boyfriend. He would never think of me more than a friend,” you explained. “Now, as I have said before, I am not going. So please stop asking.”

Nat held up her hands in defeat. “Fine, have it your way.” She walked away. You shrugged turning back to the library.

It was now the day before the party, you passed Nat and Thor deep in conversation, on your way to the kitchen. Definitely up to something. 

Your stomach growled so you hurried on to the kitchen. A wonderful smell invaded your senses the closer you got. A smile spread across your face when you saw Loki attending to something on the stove. You snuck up behind him and took another whiff.

“Hmm, something smells amazing! Whatcha cooking there, chef?” you asked playfully. 

“I believe you Midgardians call them pancakes.” Loki chuckled. 

“You went all out there, Lokes. Eggs, bacon, sausage…”

“I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for - sit.” Loki nudged you towards the table. He came back with two full plates, laying yours in front of you and he sat next to you. 

Taking a bite of the pancakes, you closed your eyes savoring the flavor. “Chocolate chips! Loki, you’re the best! You spoil me.” You smiled at your friend 

Loki just returned your smile and tucked into his own food. His body tensed at the moan that bubbled out of you. The ancient god turned to watch you, your eyes closed and a smile on your lips. You were clearly enjoying your food. Each moan was music to his ears. He wondered if he could ever elicit such moans from you himself. Loki shifted in his seat and bit his lip as his mind continued to wander. 

No, he thought. A lady such as yourself would never fall for the likes of him. He still considered himself a monster. He had changed over the years, yes, but he still never trusted himself. You were his friend and Loki wouldn’t ruin that unless he was absolutely sure how you felt. 

“Loki? Did you hear anything I just said?” You asked. 

Loki shook himself. Sorry darling, I didn’t.”

“You alright, you look a bit flushed. Maybe you should go see Banner?”

“Banner? No, I...need Thor...to speak with…” Loki began. He jumped out of his chair and quickly left. 

Puzzled, you stood too grabbing the dishes and taking them to the sink.

“That’s definitely a first,” you said out loud.

“What is?” Nat asked entering the kitchen.

“Loki wanted to see Thor.” You laughed.

The redhead hummed in agreement. “How about some sparring?”

Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning, you decided to make some hot chocolate and read. Settling on the main living area couch you opened your book. A few minutes later you smiled. 

“There you are,” you said quietly. Putting your book down you waited. 

Loki rounded the corner, clad in a pair of forest green silk pajama pants and a black hoodie. You loved those pants - they were so smooth. Heaven knows where he got them. Maybe one day you’d ask him for a pair of your own. You smiled to yourself. Or just borrow his.

“You look comfy, love.” He smiled. You were wrapped in a fluffy blanket with a steaming mug in hand. “I am. Should still be some hot cocoa in the kitchen,” you told him.

He came over and sat next to you, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “I’d much rather have some of yours. 

Before you had time to react, Loki snatched the mug from your hand and took a sip. He looked back at you, challenging you to stop him. You were surprised at his action and pouted. Loki chuckled softly before draining the rest of it. 

“Hey” you whined. “You jerk. You owe me.”

The raven-haired god laughed. “Your wish is my command. What shall it be?”

You thought for a moment before a book appeared in your hands. Smiling you handed it to him.

“Shakespeare, eh?” You nodded. Loki rolled his eyes, though he really didn’t mind. “Alright, get comfortable.”

You scooted closer to him sliding down so your head was resting in his lap. Loki chose a sonnet and began reading. You loved his voice. It was dark, smooth, and positively sinful. You suddenly realized that Loki is playing with your hair. The combination of his voice and his fingers running through your hair had a calming effect. You close your eyes enjoying the moment. You must have fallen asleep, because when you open your eyes again, Loki has stopped reading and is watching you.

“Hi,” he smiles.

“Hi,” you whisper back. 

“I have a present for you. I know it is a tradition to wait until Christmas day, but as it is officially Christmas Eve, I can’t wait any longer.” Loki says.

You sit up facing him, tucking your legs under you. Loki licks his lips expectantly waiting for an answer. He looked like a kid, well, at Christmas.

“Well, just this once,” you concede. “I have one for you too.”

Using your powers, you both summon your gifts. 

“Mine first,” Loki says handing you a beautifully wrapped package. 

You rip open the paper, tossing it aside. You gasped as you saw the contents of the box. Nestled inside was the most beautiful necklace and set of earrings you had ever seen. The necklace was a modest-sized emerald pendant encircled by tiny diamonds, held together by a very delicate silver chain. The earrings were smaller, simple emerald studs. You were speechless. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. 

Loki took your quietness to mean that you didn’t like it. “You hate them, don’t you? I know you don’t like flashy things, but I saw them and thought they would look magnificent on you.” Disappointed was evident in his tone. 

You tore your eyes from the gift. “What? No, Loki I love them! They are so beautiful, I just don’t know what to say. Thank you!” You gave him a quick hug and a chaste kiss on his cheek. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

Loki’s face lit up and a huge smile replaced his frown. “Only the best for you, Dove.”

“Now open mine” you nudged, handing him a small square package. 

He opened it with equal enthusiasm. “Oh my!” His face was emotionless as he stared at the contents. Inside the box was a set of cufflinks. They were snakes - intricately carved silver with one emerald eye each. Truly a masterpiece. He took one out to examine it closer. Loki squinted. Did it just...it did! The snake blinked. The god’s eyes widened and glanced at the young sorceress with shock and disbelief and then back at the cufflink. 

You sighed. “I know it’s silly. If you don’t like them I can make something else. I thought they were elegant with a touch of mischief. A trick for the trickster,” you chuckled to yourself. 

“You made these?” Loki asked.

“Yeah, with some help from my magic...okay a lot of help” you hesitated. “But I did design them and…”

Your friend stopped you. “They are beautiful, Y/N. I can’t believe you created these - not that you aren’t capable.” Loki suddenly looked flustered. They are amazing, love. Truly.” You blushed at his praise. 

“I shall wear them tonight.” he says. Feeling nervous, the young prince looked down at the gift again. “Are you sure you won’t come to the party?”

“Um, parties aren’t really my thing,” you explain weakly, not wanting him to know the real reason. 

“Not even if someone were to ask you to accompany them?” He quirked his brow, cheeks slightly pink.

“Well, I don’t think that would ever happen, so no.”

“You wouldn’t go with me, then?” Loki asked. Your eyes widened, staring at your friend like he had just sprouted another head. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so you stayed quiet. Sensing your hesitation, Loki started, “You don’t have to if it would make you uncomfortable, but it would be an honor to escort you.”

“Are you being serious?” you whisper. He nods, a tender smile on his lips.

“Then, I - I would love to go with you.” You looked up at him, returning his smile. You stay like that for a few minutes. 

“I guess we should go to bed. I mean our own beds, not like sharing one...not that I wouldn’t en-wow.” You cover your face with your hands trying to hide the bright red color it had turned. 

He chuckles and stands up. “You’re right, it is late. Come, let me walk you to your room.” You walk back in silence. Reaching your door, you both linger. “Good night, Little One.” Loki leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

“Night, Lokes. See you tomorrow.” You shut the door behind you and lean again the wood for a moment. Shaking yourself, you crawl into bed with a grin plastered on your face slipping into a peaceful sleep.

“Nat, Nat!” You called your friend. Nothing. For an assassin she sure sleeps heavily, you think. Fine.

Agent Romanoff! Get your butt out of bed now!” you bellowed, backing up knowing what was coming.

Nat jumped out of bed ready to attack. Looking around for danger and only seeing you, she slumped her shoulders. “What do you want? Too early,” she yawned turning towards her bed again. 

“Oh no you don’t,” you said grabbing her wrist. It is 10:30, so we have just enough time to do some shopping and then get ready for the party.” You smiled at Nat’s confusion. 

Rolling your eyes you headed back to the door. “Elevator, thirty minutes.”

So, what made ‘miss-I-hate-parties change her mind’?” Nat sassed. “A certain prince ask you to go?”

You nodded, blushing slightly as you continued flipping through dresses on the rack. “As friends of course.”

“Oh please, girl! Did he actually say that?”

“No, but I am trying to not get my hopes up just to be stomped to death because Loki doesn’t think of me as more than a friend.” Nat sighed. “And don’t give me the ‘love is worth the risk’ speech, you have no room to talk lady.” You both laughed. 

“Oh, we will definitely find you a dress that will knock his socks off,” Nat said as she handed you some dresses. “Now go.”

After countless stores and dresses, you had only one more to try on. You stood in front of the mirror taking in the view. The dress was black with a dark green, lace overlay covered in tiny flecks of gold. It had a modest neckline and came down right to the top of your knees. Perfect! Stepping out of the dressing room, you cleared your throat. “What do you think?”

Nat was shocked. “Wow, Y/N. You look stunning! I love it. And I think certain Norse god will too. Alright, missy. Go get dressed and we should have time to get something to eat before we head back to the tower.”

The two of you chatted happily all through lunch. You glanced at your watch and noticed the time. “Crap,” you muttered. “We’re going to be late. Let’s go!”

Nat helped you with your hair while you did your makeup. You wanted to use magic to finish getting ready, but Nat convinced you not to. Part of the experience she claimed. Halfway through you texted Loki that you would be late and would meet him there.

After hair and makeup, you put your dress on and stood in front of the mirror examining yourself. Your hair was half up with curls cascading over your shoulders, your makeup was light and natural-looking. Loki’s gifts completed the look. 

“You look beautiful, Y/N. Let’s get this party started!” Nat exclaimed.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Nat. Thanks for everything you’ve done,” you smiled at your friend. You two made your way to the party. 

“I enjoyed spending the day with you too.”

“That’s not quite what I meant,” you replied. Nat quirked her brow. “I know what you and Thor did.”

The assassin just smiled at you. The doors of the elevator opened up, having arrived at its destination. 

“Come on, your prince awaits,” Nat pushed you forward a little. You giggled. 

Standing just inside the door, you surveyed the room. The party was definitely in full swing, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. You smiled briefly looking for your date. You found him on the other side of the room talking with a few people. Thor noticed you first, a huge smile spread across his face. He nudged Loki who was standing next to him. Loki followed the direction Thor was looking. Ever the subtle one, Thor pushed his brother forward and laughed. Loki met your gaze and froze. He was utterly shocked. He slowly walked towards and you suddenly felt nervous and queasy under his intense stare. 

“Y/N, y - you look amazing.” Loki stuttered. 

“You like it then?” you asked shyly.

“Love it, darling,” he replied, his voice an octave lower now. I want everyone to see how lucky I am. May I have this dance?” He offered you his hand and led you out onto the dance floor. 

A slow dance started playing, and Loki pulled you close to his body. His hands rested on your hips forcing your arms to encircle his neck. The prince smiled down at you and you returned it. You let yourself relax against his lean, but slightly muscular frame; loving the feeling of being in his arms. You knew your relationship would not be the same after tonight, something had changed - but maybe for the better?

“My colors suit you, Dove” he whispered in your ear causing a shiver to run up your spine. 

“I do, don’t I?” you teased. “Maybe I’ll wear them more often.” You pulled back just enough to look up at Loki seeing another tender smile gracing his lips. You quickly melted back into his embrace, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

After two more songs, you took a break. Loki went to get some drinks while you took another moment to admire the young prince. He wore his usual stunning black suit, but switched his matching black shirt for a forest green button-up, paired with a red tie. He truly looked like a god. Loki noticed you staring and winked. His expression became one of boredom as a guest stopped to talk to him. You giggled and turned your attention back to the party. You saw a group of female agents talking close by, and you decided to eavesdrop.

“Ha, she thinks that a new dress and hairdo can improve her looks...she is sadly mistaken,” one agent said. The rest laughed.

Another agent noticed that you were listening. “She looks like a stuffed cabbage in that color. You can’t honestly think that Loki is taken by you do you, Y/N?” she asked. The other ladies turned to look at you. Smirks and eye roles were exchanged. 

You blinked back tears. Don’t let them win. “We’re just friends,” you explained. 

“Please, we all see the way you look at him; like a lost puppy waiting for her master to notice her,” a third agent piped up. “Like a god would take notice of a cow like you. Loki is just leading you on. You are just his tool tonight.” The ladies all cackled. 

You knew the dam was about to break, but you couldn’t let them see you cry. You hurried out of the room as quickly as possible.

“Y/N, you okay? What happened? Steve stopped you, taking in your appearance. 

“I’m fine, Steve. ‘Scuse me” you mumbled pushing past him. 

Loki was finally able to extricate himself from his conversation and made his way back to you. He noticed you talking to a small group of women and smiled. A frown soon replaced it after seeing you run out of the room. He called after you, but you didn’t hear him. The prince turned toward the women who looked quite satisfied with themselves. 

“What did you do to Y/N?” he asked. Anger bubbling to the surface. 

The female agents all feigned innocence. “Nothing, Loki. She’s just being a baby.” one said shrugging. 

Loki glared at them all. “What. Did. You. Say?” he spat out. The group coward back. “Really, nothing? You said nothing - Y/N just ran away? Speak before I do something I might regret.” he bellowed.

“Um, w-we told her that someone like you would never fall for a girl like her.” another offered.

Loki raised his eyebrows, a deadly look on his face. A girl like her? She is ten times...no a hundred times better than any of you. How dare you speak to her like that. Y/N is the glue that holds this team together. You have the audacity to judge her by her size? You are nothing but a bunch of mewling quim - you need to be taught a lesson or better yet, fired!” he yelled. 

By now the room was silent, everyone watching the scene unfold. The rest of the Avengers were up front closest to the commotion, ready to defend Loki. They were proud of him for standing up for Y/N. 

“If any of you ever tease her again, I will personally make your lives hell” Loki continued. “She is an amazing woman and I - I lov…” his eyes widen. “Where did she go?”

“That way.” Steve points in the direction you ran.

You found yourself in a small hallway you never knew existed. Sitting on a bench tucked into an alcove, you were alone and sobbing your heart out. You knew you shouldn’t believe what the women said about Loki. He was your friend after all, but it still hurt. You were so tired of the teasing and awful treatment. Tonight had given you hope that Loki might feel something more for you, but you knew that no one would love you because of your size. So lost in your own self-pity you barely registered someone calling your name. You didn’t respond, you didn’t want to talk to anyone. 

“Y/N! Love, can you hear me?”

Coming back to reality, you saw Loki standing right in front of you. You knew you were a mess, you covered your face. Your friend sits down beside you and pulls you flush against him. You grab onto him and start sobbing again. Loki squeezes you tighter and rubs your back soothingly.

“I’m sorry Loki” you sniff. He handed you a hanky. “I let them get to me, I shouldn’t have, but I did…” You drop gaze and fiddle with his tie. 

“No, love. I’m sorry. They should never have said those things to you. They are just a bunch of catty women. They are jealous of you” Loki explains.

You snort in disbelief. Loki lifts your chin with one of his long fingers. “It’s true” he continues. “It has been my experience that when people feel threatened or jealous of someone, they lash out at them.” He smiles at you. 

Wiping away stray tears his hand lingers to caress your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into his touch. 

The young prince takes a deep breath, “Y/N...I..” he pauses.

You open your eyes and look at Loki. “What is it? You can tell me, love” you prod.

“Iloveyou” he gushes. 

“I’m sorry what?”

‘I love you, Y/N. Loki falters trying to gauge your reaction. 

“Awe, I love you too, Lokes.” you chuckle.

“No, I love love you. More than just as a friend. I have fallen in love with you, Y/N.”

“But you can’t, it’s impossible!” You exclaim. I mean look at me. I’m not the woman you deserve, Loki.”

“To me, you are perfect, Y/N. You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. You are strong, brave, kind, loving, caring, and excuse my language, a bloody genius. You always think about other people and their needs before your own. You have taught me to not judge what people look like on the outside, that it is what’s on the inside that matters.

Tears were flowing down your cheeks again. “But…” you began.

Loki pressed a finger to your lips, “I wasn’t finished. You have curves, so what? I like a woman who is curvy. It just means that there is more of you for me to love” he winked.

“Oh Loki, no one has ever talked to me like that before. I want to believe that I am not completely ugly, but that’s all I’ve been told growing up.”

“Then let me show you how beautiful you are and how much I adore you.” Loki put his arms around you and pulled you close again. 

You could feel his warm breath on your face. Your lips just inches apart, breathing heavy. Your gaze drifted up briefly before a laugh bubbled out. Loki followed your gaze and saw a ball of mistletoe appearing above.

“It seems someone is hoping for a Christmas kiss, eh?” You joked looking back at Loki.

He was staring at you - the love you saw reflected in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. He slowly leaned in and brushed his lips against yours, pulling away for a second only to reattach to your mouth again. 

The kiss felt like heaven. It was sweet, gentle, and a tad salty. You snaked your hands up his neck to deepen the kiss. It became passionate - Loki wasn’t holding back anymore. Neither of you were. He nibbled your bottom lip causing you to gasp. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Loki snuck his tongue in your mouth to taste more of you. The feeling was intoxicating, neither of you wanted to stop. You finally broke the kiss, oxygen becoming necessary. He pressed his forehead to yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Th-that was all I wanted for Christmas,” Loki whispered. You two smiled at each other, basking in the warmth of the moment.

“I love you too,  you finally confessed. “I have for a very long time.” Loki pecked your lips again.

“Happy Christmas, my dove.”

“Merry Christmas, my prince.”

[josy72]

💯🙌🏻💯

How the women of ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’ put a new spin on sex and smiling in French cinema

A period movie so alive with ideas and emotions it feels like it is taking place in the present tense, “Portrait of a Lady On Fire” has been igniting viewers around the world for the better part of a year.

Written and directed by Céline Sciamma, the film won the screenplay prize and the Queer Palm award when it premiered at the Cannes Film Festival last summer, and has since been nominated for 10 César awards, a Golden Globe, a BAFTA and a Spirit Award and picked up numerous critics prizes, including recognition for cinematographer Claire Mathon.

Set in late 1700s-Brittany, “Portrait” follows a young female artist, Marianne (Noémie Merlant), hired to paint a portrait of Héloïse (Adèle Haenel), recently out of a convent and expected to marry a man she has never met. The job is harder than it sounds: Marianne is told to paint the headstrong Héloïse without her knowing, as she already refused to sit for another painter. Spending time together at a remote chateau near the seaside, the two women form a fast, intense bond and begin to fall in love.

The film is a spellbinding romance but also has a lot more on its mind. Notions of art and representation, who gets to tell stories and what stories get told, becomes a vital part of the narrative. After Marianne and Héloïse help a servant girl named Sophie (Luàna Bajrami) get an abortion, Héloïse insists that Marianne paint a depiction of the event.

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After a brief qualifying run at the end of last year, “Portrait” was moved to begin its nationwide platform release on Valentine’s Day, taking it out of the crush of year-end awards titles and into a position that capitalized on its deeply felt romance. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” is now truly a film for lovers.

Noémie Merlant, left, and Adèle Haenel in a scene from “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

(Neon)

By now, Sciamma has already promoted “Portrait” through numerous international releases and estimates she has done more than 350 interviews on behalf of the film.

“The box office, it really matters for me,” she said. “I want the film to be seen in theaters by people. So the fact that there’s this alternative strategy with the release in February, departing from the awards season, it’s fine because the most important thing for me is that people see it.”

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The movie is being released by Neon, the savvy distributor behind Bong Joon Ho’s best picture winner “Parasite.” On Oscars night Sciamma was seen congratulating Bong at an after-party and Bong then returned the favor by acknowledging the success of “Portrait” in South Korea during a speech at a late-night after-after party at a restaurant in Koreatown.

Indeed, “Portrait” has emerged as the biggest international success yet for Sciamma, a leading light of contemporary French cinema whose credits include 2011’s “Tomboy,” 2014’s “Girlhood” and the screenplay for 2016’s Oscar-nominated animated feature “My Life as a Zucchini.”

Haenel previously worked with Sciamma on the director’s 2007 debut “Water Lilies” and has gone on to be among France’s most celebrated young actresses and a two-time César award winner. The pair were in a romantic relationship for a number of years after “Water Lilies” but had publicly split before starting work on “Portrait.”

In person they retain an intense, palpable bond, which was on display when they sat for an interview at the Toronto International Film Festival last fall. Into that dynamic stepped Merlant, and together the three women project an electric intelligence, playful wit and strong, thoughtful perspectives.

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Adèle Haenel in a scene from “A Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

(Neon)

Merlant admits she had some trepidation about stepping into the strong connection between Sciamma and Haenel, but she was immediately welcomed in during an audition.

“As soon as I met them, I understood straight away that it will not be [closed off], it will be a circle,” said Merlant. “They’re really open and focused on building a nice environment for collaborators, for artists, for women, but not just between the three of us. It’s the same with all the team — it’s really free between everybody.”

Turning to the themes of the film, Sciamma notes that the way in which “Portrait” becomes a meta examination of who looks and what is looked at in the depiction of history was very intentional.

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“There’s a novelist in France named Annie Ernaux ... [who] said there’s no museum in the world with the portrait called ‘The Abortion,’” said Sciamma. “And that’s what is missing from art history, of course, but from our history too, if and when women are not in charge of representation. So it’s an image that is taboo. It shouldn’t be, and that’s why I wanted to represent it and represent the fact that it can be represented.

“It’s a matter of representation politics of the film, but it’s also really entertaining, I think,” Sciamma said. “To me those things are always linked. In the film the fact that there’s all these layers that we are playing with — it was part of the project and the joy of making it. Even on the set, we were well aware I’m an artist looking at models and the models are actually looking at the artists.”

Sciamma’s film has a passionate intensity, a feeling of being turned on, that makes it sensual, romantic and sexy even while it is not particularly explicit. What at first seems to be a startlingly graphic shot turns out to be something else, a visual joke that captures the wit and subversive sensibility of the film.

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“I think that ideas and humor are the sexiest thing,” said Haenel.

“And the fact that you can imagine,” added Merlant, “if you don’t really see everything, then you can dream even more about it.”

“We have to find new ways to represent sex,” said Sciamma. “I’ve not been excited erotically by a French film for very, very long time. Sometimes it happens, but it’s always the same images. Some people don’t see sex in the film, and that’s too bad. Especially in cinema, it’s about the tension. A slow burn is about something growing and delay and frustration. To me, that’s how fiction represents the eroticism.

“And another thing also — consent is so sexy. We have to represent the sexiness of consent,” added Sciamma. “They always ask, even when she’s painting, ‘Can I touch you?’ And I think this is super-sexy to say, ‘Can I kiss you?’ And the movie’s all about the sexiness of consent. And I find it super-hot.”

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As much as an audience might want to see Heloise and Marianne giving in to their desire for each other sooner, there are other ideas at work.

“It’s also a lot about resisting. For instance, they don’t smile at each other for 70 minutes,” Sciamma said. “I’m sick of women always smiling on screen. I want them to be accurate, concentrating. Even as I want the smile to happen.”

Haenel compared the behavior of Héloïse toward Mariane to a small cat, both playful and withholding. But there is also something more meaningful to her seeming diffidence.

“If you smile immediately it’s like you are OK to be an object,” said Haenel. “All the time, as a woman you’re supposed to be nice. Like, ‘Look at me, I’m a nice chair’ or whatever, I’m smiling and not dangerous. And we wanted to portray a different way to be — to seduce a person, not pretending you are an object but really defending the fact that you are the subject. And this is why also it’s important not to smile all the time.”

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Adèle Haenel, left, and Noémie Merlant in a scene from “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

(Neon)

For a number of years, Sciamma has been deeply involved with the movement known as 50/50 by 2020, which has been pushing for gender parity within the French film industry and international film festivals. And her activism off the set has fed back into her work on-set.

“My life has an impact on my films. For instance, this sorority that I’m feeling and living for the past two years actually gives me a strength, a joy,” she said. “And I think I’m better at portraying it because I’m living it more fully.

“All the feelings that you have, that you experience when you’re active politically, these are very strong emotions. It’s not only about ideas, it’s also a way of life. And all that goes in the film. And also because you feel less lonely, so you feel more brave.”

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Sciamma’s creative bravery with “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” has already connected with viewers in some unusual ways. In the film, a secret message is shared between Marianne and Héloïse on Page 28 of a book, and the idea of “p.28” has become a romantic totem for audiences. Sciamma has even heard of multiple people getting it tattooed on their bodies.

“I’m so proud of that. I think I won best screenplay in Cannes for just ‘page 28,’” she said. “I’m sure that page is going to become the page of a lot of books and a lot of hidden secrets between people. And I liked the fact that movies can make a community of their secret language and then people are part of the language of the film.

“That’s why I do cinema. I do cinema to create, so that the film creates its own language. And that’s why also it’s slow, so that you learn the language. And that your emotion comes not only from the story, but from the fact that you speak that language too.

“That’s my strongest emotions in cinema,” Sciamma said. “I begin to speak the language of the film and I feel like I belong in here.”

[heartslogos]

the declassified texts of the inquisition’s elite [142]

(620):  I'm so gassy and it's your fault. -

“You know what I love about holidays and getting in touch with family?” Herah asks.

“Everyone talking about how much they admire you and are proud of your choices?” Kaaras asks as he carefully loads the gifts he’d spent the past three and a half days wrapping with a worrisome precision. It’s like the man’s playing Tetris in the back of the car. Herah would comment but she’s learned her lesson years ago. Her little brother can get fierce when it comes to the handling and care of presents he intends to give to people he likes.

Herah remembers she accidentally bumped one of his gifts when they were in their teens, causing one of the dangerously sharp corners of a wrapped box to dent a little. Kaaras’s stone cold fury made Herah believe that she’d just been disowned from the family and was about to be killed in a truly calculated and painful manner. She’s handled being around Kaaras and his gifts as though she were around wild, starving, maternal predatory animals ever since.

They don’t even celebrate holidays. They aren’t religious. They don’t have a religion. They’re Tal-Vashoth Qunari for fuck’s sake. Well. Except Kaaras, technically he’s just Vashoth. And yet every year Kaaras gets entirely enamored in the spirit of the religious season, whether it’s the Andrastian’s and their whatever it’s called or the practicing elves and their winter solstice celebrations. Herah’s pretty sure it’s the idea of giving people gifts without them being weird about it.

Kaaras would take any excuse to give people presents without it becoming an awkward situation in which the other party has no idea what to do or say and Kaaras wants to spontaneously combust because he’s a shy boy in a giant’s body who gets deeply afraid of being emotionally vulnerable to other people because of extreme anxiety. So. Religious connotation or not, Kaaras is all in for the winter festivities.

“No, and that’s a really weird thing to say. Wait, is that what you like about the holidays? That’s…narcissistic and unlike you. Is hanging out with the rest of the Inquisition weirdos getting to you?”

“What? No. I like having an excuse to write nice cards and give people gifts without them feeling uncomfortable about it,” Kaaras frowns at Herah before returning to his careful arrangement of packages. “I just thought that’s what you liked.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because that’s all that happens when we go home?”

“What?”

“Whenever we go home and our parents have people over, for whatever occasion, all everyone ever talks about is how good you’re doing with life and all the various things you choose to apply yourself to,” Kaaras explains patiently. “They all want to know about your latest adventures and exploits and whatever cool adventures you’ve been on. And they’re always very excited to hear you tell your stories and your anecdotes and what-have-you’s. Me? Let’s face it, none of the other Tal-Vashoth and Vashoth our parents know are particularly interested in the sciences. at least, not the type of sciences I work with. And I’ve never been good at sports — except track and field, but that doesn’t really count as a sport to them — and my job isn’t physical or involve the kind of travel and exploits yours does. I’m not interesting to them and they don’t really understand me.”

Herah gapes at her brother. “Kaaras.”

“Which is all well and good for me, because I don’t think I could handle their sort of enthusiasm,” Kaaras continues with a bright laugh. “Me? Playing rugby in the yard? I’d really rather not! Anyway, if you weren’t excited for all of that what are you excited about?” Kaaras finally turns to look at her, face falling when he sees Herah’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been your sister for eight whole years — “

“That’s not how siblings describe age difference, normally.”

“ — and I never knew you felt like that until now,” Herah says. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Kaaras looks genuinely puzzled.

“It sounds really lonely on the other side of it.”

“Oh.” Kaaras looks at his hands, picking at the fingertips of his gloves. “Well. I guess when I was younger it didn’t feel so good. But I’ve grown past it, now. I kind of — it makes me happy. Seeing you with all the other Tal-Vashoth. I think they need you in a weird kind of way. It doesn’t make sense when I say it out loud.”

Herah leans against the side of the car. “We’ve got time before we need to hit the road.”

Kaaras rests his hands on the edge of the trunk as he thinks.

“I think it’s because you grew up there, you know? Under the Qun? So to them you’re — I don’t know. It seems very silly considering I’ve never talked about it with anyone.”

“Talk about it with me.”

“I talk about everything with you, Herah.”

“Yeah, so don’t leave this bit out. We’re not like the wonder siblings Ellana and Mahanon with their whole…their everything. But I like to think we’re still pretty good siblings,” Herah says, reaching out to tug at Kaaras’ ear. “C’mon.”

“I think they see proof that things will be okay in you,” Kaaras says, eyes down on his hands. “Because you were in the Qun just like them. You were on the same track as they were. Not like me, I was born outside of it so I don’t know it the way they do. I’m different than they are. You aren’t, though. And you’re doing okay for yourself. You’re doing better than okay. So the choice they made couldn’t have been wrong. Or if it wasn’t a choice they made, then being cast out of the Qun isn’t as much of a death sentence and end they thought it was. You’re like hope, I think.”

Herah swallows, “Well. Damn, Kaaras. That’s a lot.”

Kaaras shoots Herah an amused look. “Yeah. It is. And I’m glad they have you for that.”

“Fuck. Makes what I was going to say a lot dumber.”

“No offense, but it was probably going to be dumb even without me saying anything.”

Herah punches Kaaras’ shoulder, both of them laughing as Kaaras finally moves to close the back of the car.

“What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say various family friends and stuff being petty and shit and being weird and annoying to each other. We aren’t there yet and already I’m getting blamed for shit via text.”

[sweetcatmintea]

So I’m a Vampire now...

Hello hello! It’s flash fiction Friday again! (Hurray!) Guess who still hasn’t learnt to stick to a word limit: This creature! (I’m so sorry <u<;;;;) Anyways, this kinda snuck up on me and I couldn’t think of anything better than this little vampire drabble. I hope you enjoy it!  Feedback is appreciated ^u^

FFF is hosted by @flashfictionfridayofficial

Prompt: Deep End Words: 1665

----

“And we’ll have fun fun fun unt- Michael, put the rock down.” I hoped my voice conveyed how done I was with his reaction. Michael stood, back to the old jeep his mum let him borrow when he mowed the lawn, arm raised, poised to bash my head in with a sizable chunk of concrete. Vanessa wondered back to him from the direction of the mostly closed shops, an eyebrow quirked above her glasses.

“I swear to god, put the rock down. I’m not here to gogurt you.” Why do I have to be friends with an idiot?

He held firmer to his makeshift weapon. “Prove it. I can see the blood lust in your eyes.”

I pressed a palm into my forehead. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. “Yeah, my eyes dilated. Y’know, that thing that happens when you are happy to see your friends. Go repeat bio. If I was gonna slurp your guts, I wouldn’t be singing the beach boys and waltzing up to you like a door knocker asking for money. Especially not after I asked you for a lift.”

Michael narrowed his eyes at me. “Unless that’s what you want us to think. I know you Jessie. You’re sneaky.”

“Oh my god, why are you so dumb? Vanessa, can you PLEase talk some sense into him.”

Vanessa knocked the rock out of his hand, pitching it across the desolate car park before he could react. She should go into a ball sport. I don’t know, baseball or something. It clattered somewhere in the distance.

“Michael, stop being weird. We both know Jessie could have pinned you before they got turned. Your noodle arms can barely open a particularly sturdy container. You’re just making them feel unwelcomed. And being a trashy friend.”

“All true.” I nodded. “Plus, it’s not like I chose to get turned. If that loser Josh hadn’t done me dirty last week, I’d be at home feeding my Tamagotchi. Has he even reported me missing yet?”

Michael mumbled a sheepish apology. “Sorry, I was just worried you’d gone off the deep end all blood lusty or something…”

I waved it off. I wasn’t really angry. It’s not like we’d exactly been in this situation before.

Vanessa shook her head, giving me a one-armed greeting hug which I, of course, returned. “He hasn’t mentioned it. I mean, you have been reported missing. That was a whole thing that happened with your parents and then us pretending like you weren’t texting us because how do you tell someone their kid is off getting the lowdown on being undead, but yeah, not reported by Josh.”

“What a soggy zit. I swear, when I get my hands on him.”

“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” Michael and Vanessa shared a worried look.

“What? No. Of course not! That’s disgusting. You think I’m gonna put my face hole anywhere near that slimy weasel and voluntarily drink two thirds of his blood?? Do you know how long that would even take?”

Michael rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding my eyes. “Well, I kinda thought you’d y’know, snap his neck or something now you have super strength…”

“Who’s gone off the deep end now?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not some killing machine. I’ll just dob him in and let him flounder some explanation for how he shoved me at the burglar while we were closing up shop and ran away. He’s lucky it was a vampire and not some lunatic or I’d really be dead.”

Vanessa plopped down on a concrete chock block, sipping her bubble tea and settling in for a long conversation. It was wild, I could hear the jelly in the cup squishing together. Michael sat to her side, patting the ground to invite me to complete the triangle. I obliged.

Vanessa started us off. “So what’s it like? Being all vampirey now?”

“Well, I’ve got cool powers now. Not the powers of being cool, I already had that.”

It was Michael’s turn to roll his eyes at me. I elbowed him in the ribs. Gently. Breaking bones had become a real danger. He snorted a laugh, almost shooting red bull up his nose.

“I got these neato glow in the dark eyes. Don’t know if you can turn that off. They do the cat slit thing though which is interesting. I can see So much more at night. But I think I need reading glasses now? Can’t make out squat near my face in the day.”  

Shuffling around in the pockets of my oversized 90s jacket, I retrieved a packet of dried wasabi peas and munched away as I talked.

“I’m like, crazy strong. No kidding, I accidentally ripped my favourite jeans on the second day of being a vampire. Just tugged them a liiiittle too hard and bam, ruined pants.”

“Have you got fangs?” Vanessa peered closer at my mouth. It would have been better to ask that before I started eating.

“Fangs for the memories, even if they weren’t so- nah, I’m just kidding. I got them.” I bared my teeth at them, poking the lengthened canines with an index finger. “They’re sharp as anything. I’ve drunk more of my own blood than anyone else’s ‘cause I keep biting my freaking tongue. Reminds me of being little and sucking a candy cane into a shank. I’m surprised none of us got an impromptu festive tongue piercing off those things.”

“Speaking of blood… Do you need to drink it now?” They both leaned forward, anxious for my answer.

“Oi, quit it with the looks. I’m not going to freaking bite you. I’m not some mindless animal, I’m just me. Just Jessie.”

“Is there a difference there?” Michael’s ribbing was, for once, welcome.

“Hardy har. Yes, I mean, technically, I have to consume blood. But, like, the pamphlet seems to say that it’s basically a supplement more than anything so I’ve just gotta eat normal stuff and chuck back a shot or two after.”

“Okay, two things. First, human blood?”

“Again. Eww. Do you have any idea how many diseases are in human blood? There’s a reason we haven’t literally eaten the rich yet. To be fair, I’m somewhat immortal now so I won’t get sick physically, but emotionally? Imagine the toll.”

“So how do you..?”

“You know you can just go to the butchers and buy blood right? It’s like an actual cooking ingredient. It comes in blocks. It tastes like satan’s toe jam but you just gotta chuck it back real quick. Or, I’m getting a fondness for black pudding. It too tastes like feet but isn’t as bad.”

Vanessa took a thoughtful sip of her drink. “Okay. Second thing. Pamphlet?”

“Oh yeah, this thing.” I fished it out of my other pocket, passing it to them. The vampire pr committee went to great lengths to make it cute with little cartoon vampires giving advice on this time of change, talking about how your body is changing and the strange things you may feel.

“Aww that’s super cute.” Vanessa pointed to a little vampire on the cover, handing it to Michael when she was finished skimming.

“I know right. Apparently they got tired of the old program where you get bitten and have to have an awkward talk with the weirdo who kinda killed you.”

Michael handed the pamphlet back. “Speaking of, what was it like living with a vampire for a week?”

I groaned. “Oh my god, he was insufferable. At first it was like ‘I vill show you ze vorld, shining shimmering splendour va ha ha’ which was neat but then it got all ‘I’ve turned you into a monster! You will suffer for eternity! Woe is ze life of an immortal. I am so sorry va ha ha’. Which I’m like, yeah you could have at least asked my name first or waited for my hair to grow out a little instead of sticking me with this too short for the long style, too long for the short style do I’ve gotta rock for the rest of time, but all in all, it’s not the worst that could happen so chill a little maybe?”

“Aw, poor guy. He doesn’t sound that bad.” Vanessa was much less, judgey, than me. I kinda felt bad for ripping on the man.

“Okay, he’s not terrible, but the lamenting. God, the lamenting. ‘Woe is me, I have seen so many seasons I can not even remember my age.’ Why don’t you just get a calculator and subtract this year from your birth year? Then you can know that bit. ‘Oh, but ze isolation! My human friends are long dead and buried!’ That’s super sucky bro. Why don’t you make some new friends and ask if they want to be turned? Or like, go on immortalsingles.com and get a butt touch buddy? With the internet age, it’s a lot easier to connect. ‘oh but who could love a monster like me? I haven’t even seen my face in five hundred years va ha ha.’ There is a Whole genre of people online (and in line) for that. And just, update your mirrors. Get a cheap one and it won’t have silver in it and you can see your face again. I kinda think he just enjoys lamenting. If he’d get with the times, things wouldn’t be half as unpleasant for him.”

“You’re not a very empathetic listener, are you.” That’s a lot coming from the guy who was going to stone me fifteen minutes ago.

“Hey! I hooked him up to the internet and gave him my number. I didn’t just leave him.”

“Yeah yeah yeah. Whatever you say Jessie.” Michael got up, brushing his jeans off and stretching. Vanessa and I followed suit. One thing remained on my mind. Something I needed to prepare myself for.

“Okay, before we head home, I have one last, very important question.”

They looked at me quizzically.

“Has anyone been looking after my Tamagotchi?”  

-----

Tag List

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer

[anotherkpopvictim]

Walking In Our Own Winter Wonderland - TaeKook Drabble

(Edited this picture myself)

A/N: So I wanted to write some Taekook fluff for the winter season and it turned into smut too...

Oops?

Also, Happy Birthday, Taehyungie <3

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Kim Taehyung

Rating: M (smut)

Words: 4556

Smut, fluff, Top!Kook, Bottom!Tae, Sub!Kook, Dom!Tae, SubTop!Kook, PowerBottom!Tae

Disclaimer: I don’t know anything about ski resorts in South Korea. I based this mostly on a ski resort in Canada I’ve been to many times and very, very loosely on the Yongpyong ski resort in South Korea that I looked into a bit. So, some information is most likely inaccurate, but it’s a fanfiction so who cares.

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“I’m going to miss you so much!” Jimin exclaimed through overdramatic tears. His arms were wrapped tightly around Taehyung’s waist and his head was buried in his chest.

Taehyung held back his own tears (despite how ridiculous this whole thing was) and gave his platonic soulmate a consoling pat on the back. “I’m gonna miss you too, Jiminie.”

Their disgusting scene was interrupted by one Min Yoongi, who walked into the dorm’s entryway with Jungkook carrying two suitcases behind him. “Ew, enough you two. Taehyung and Jungkook are only going to be gone for a few days. Sometimes I swear you’re the ones dating.”

Taehyung saw the familiar flash of jealousy in Jungkook’s eyes at their hyung’s words. The second youngest huffed out a laugh and disentangled himself from Jimin to look over at Jungkook. “Relax, baby. You know Yoongi-hyung is just joking.”

Jimin seemed to understand that his touchiness was pushing it with the very protective maknae and gave Taehyung one more good hug before stepping back and giving him space.

Taehyung walked over to the now pouting Jungkook and wrapped his own arms around his waist. “You’re the only one for me, bun.” He promised, sealing the promise with a quick but firm kiss to the maknae’s cheek.

Jungkook was always so easily riled up, and part of Taehyung couldn’t ignore that he absolutely loved to see the blush that crawled up his lover’s neck and covered his cheeks. There was a bit of pride and happiness shining in the younger’s eyes now, content with the confirmation of their relationship.

“God,” Yoongi scrunched his nose up and pretended to shield his eyes from the scene, “Yeah, okay, you guys are definitely still the worst.”

Taehyung and Jungkook both turned to stick their tongues out maturely at their hyung just as Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon walked in from the living room. Their entryway was getting crowded now as it wasn’t really meant for seven people to be in at once.

“Did you guys pack scarves? It’s supposed to be super cold up at the resort,” Hoseok asked, a worried furrow to his brow.

“Yep,” Jungkook replied.

“What about extra socks? Underwear?” Jin added, looking equally as worried about the two youngest.

Jungkook and Taehyung both rolled their eyes. “Yes, hyungs,” Taehyung said, “I promise we’ll be fine.”

“I trust you’ll do your best not to be spotted,” Namjoon gave them a dimpled smile and a pat on the shoulder, “So have fun, alright?”

“But not too much fun!” Hoseok exclaimed.

“Oh, please,” Jimin waved his hand, “We all know they’re going to be fucking the whole time.”

Jungkook, who’s skin color had almost returned to normal after Taehyung’s teasing, flushed bright red again at Jimin’s comment. Taehyung laughed it off while the other hyungs groaned in mock disgust.

------------------------------------------

Their manager had assisted them in hiring a private shuttle bus to take the two maknaes to the ski resort they would be staying at for a few days. The ride was going to be a couple hours long, so they settled into the seats and shared headphones so they could listen to some of their favorite music on the way.

They’d planned this trip for months, begging their boss to allow them some time off between Christmas day and Taehyung’s birthday on the thirtieth of the month.

So here they were, fresh off the Christmas high and about to spend some much needed alone time in a picturesque winter wonderland.

Taehyung had the window seat and often let his eyes take in the changing scenery outside. More snow covered the world in a blanket of white the higher in altitude they got.

Jungkook leaned his head on Taehyung’s shoulder and pulled one of the older’s big hands into his lap so he could fiddle with his fingers - a common habit of his. He’d always thought that Taehyung had the most beautiful hands. He could sit there and stare at them forever and he probably wouldn’t even get sick of them.

The driver of the shuttle bus had been chosen specifically as the company had deemed him trustworthy, and he was contracted not to say anything about what he witnessed between the two youngest members of one of the world’s biggest boybands. Taehyung caught his gaze a few times in the rearview mirror, noticing the fond smile the man had on his face when he saw the two of them holding hands.

When they arrived at the cabin they had rented after checking in, the kind driver took their luggage inside for them and bid them goodbye.

The cabin was on the outskirts of the actual ski resort, which meant a lot of walking to get to the little village, but also meant that they had more privacy. It was rustic-looking and Taehyung could see a billow of smoke coming out of the chimney.

They had hired someone to stock the kitchen with some food for them as they knew it was too dangerous to risk going to get groceries on their own and getting spotted by a fan. It seemed that whoever had done that had also started the fire for them.

The two of them walked into a toasty warm cabin, a welcome feeling even after only being in the bitter cold outside for a few minutes. The open-concept cabin space was lit up by a few lamps and the natural sun beaming in from the window. The design was old fashioned in a way, so different from the modern look of their dorm in Seoul. It was beautiful.

As Jungkook started unpacking a few of their things, Taehyung made some hot chocolate. He topped it with whipped cream and settled onto the couch in the living room with the younger.

“Isn’t it amazing here?” Jungkook asked as they played a K-Drama they’d been meaning to watch in the background.

Taehyung’s lips turned up at the corners in a longing sort of smile. “Yeah, it is,” he replied, “It reminds me of my home as a child - except, more snow.”

Jungkook chuckled lightly in agreement and then said shyly, “Part of me never wants to leave and we’ve only just gotten here.”

The smile on Taehyung’s face turned softer, sadder. “I know, baby. Me too.”

Neither of them said it out loud, but the underlying meaning in Jungkook’s words was there. Here, they didn’t have to hide. Here, they didn’t have to watch what they did and said constantly so no one would know they were romantically involved. Even if just for a while, Taehyung and Jungkook could get away from those responsibilities and be themselves.

They fell into a comfortable silence as Taehyung curled into the maknae’s side, a fluffy blanket draped over the two of them.

Once nighttime fell upon them, Taehyung stoked the fire and added some firewood while Jungkook cooked them up some dinner in the kitchen. The two of them continued the drama they were watching as they munched on their tasty meal, and then they cuddled up together once more.

Finding time alone was difficult with their careers and living situations, and as much as Taehyung wanted to use this time to their advantage, they were too tired to do anything tonight. They’d performed at the KBS Song Festival just the day before, and the preparation in the days before that meant that they were exhausted and in need of a full night of sleep.

That didn’t mean that the two of them didn’t share many kisses throughout the evening though. Jungkook would shyly peck his hyung on the lips every once in a while, while Taehyung was much more forward, but that was how it had always been between them. Taehyung hugged the maknae any chance he had to do so and pressed kisses wherever he saw fit - Jungkook’s face, neck, arms, hair, it didn’t matter.

When they finally turned off the television and lights for the night and curled up together under the covers of the queen-sized bed, their kisses became a little more heated.

It started as a simple peck, but Jungkook just couldn’t seem to bring himself to pull away. Taehyung certainly wasn’t complaining and eagerly accepted the younger’s tongue into his mouth when it prodded against his bottom lip.

Taehyung let out a sigh of content and held tighter to the younger’s dark locks. He allowed the heat to simmer in the pit of his stomach as Jungkook pulled him flush against him by the waist.

“Mm, baby,” Taehyung mumbled half-heartedly against the other’s lips, “We should stop before things get out of control.”

Jungkook didn’t look like he particularly agreed, but he listened and placed a final kiss to his hyung’s lips before pulling away and leaning their foreheads together.

Taehyung moved his hand from the nape of the maknae’s neck to the side of his face where he let his thumb caress Jungkook’s cheek softly. The younger couldn’t help but lean into the tender touch.

“Tomorrow,” Jungkook muttered, his eyes half-closing from the comfort of the older’s touch. “Tomorrow, I’m going to love you so hard, hyung.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but smile a little at the cute words. Even after all these years, Jungkook still didn’t like saying crude things or even using the word “sex”. It was endlessly adorable, though, so Taehyung didn’t mind in the slightest. The maknae was so pure in that way, even if he was certainly no longer a virgin.

“I’ll hold you to that, bun,” Taehyung replied softly, unable to stop himself from kissing the younger’s lips one more time before settling his head back on his pillow. They were facing each other and pressed closely, Jungkook’s arm tossed over his hyung’s waist. “I love you.”

“Love you too, hyung. Always.”

----------------------------------------

The next morning they stuffed their faces with a hearty breakfast before heading out to the slopes. They were lucky enough to catch the first chairlift ride of the day and talked about what run they wanted to go on first as they were carried up the mountain.

Both of them had tried skiing in the past and found they preferred snowboarding so they had rented the right equipment. Once they hopped off the lift and settled on a run that was a bit longer for their first, the two of them were off.

The freedom of cruising across the snow at a consistent speed was exhilarating and they laughed unabashedly at the feeling. Their laughing turned to straight-up cackling when Taehyung came to a momentary stop and tipped over backward, his arms flailing funnily in the air before he fell on his ass.

Jungkook tried to show off to his hyung a few times by doing complicated turns until Taehyung made him stop in fear of injuring himself. “I know how talented you are at so many things - snowboarding included. You don’t need to risk your hurting yourself at my expense,” he’d said, and though Jungkook couldn’t see the older’s eyes behind his mask and goggles, he could hear the tenderness and emotion in his deep voice.

The two of them completed four total runs before they took a break for lunch. Unfortunately, they couldn’t go to any restaurants for fear of being seen so they instead went back to their cabin. They didn’t mind too much, though, if it meant they didn’t need to hide.

After defrosting their fingers and toes by the fireplace and making sure their stomachs were full, they headed back to the slopes once more. They only did three more runs before the sun disappeared behind the mountains and an orange and pink sunset took over the sky.

Taehyung and Jungkook trudged through the snow back to their cabin, breathing heavily through their face masks. They wished to take them off so they could take some deep breaths but didn’t want to risk showing any part of their faces. Even their goggles had been replaced with sunglasses to hide their eyes.

While the older was definitely beginning to feel the soreness of his muscles already, the maknae looked like he could keep snowboarding forever. Jungkook’s stamina was insane, and Taehyung would always be shocked by it.

“How are you not tired?”

Jungkook looked at him and Taehyung could see his cheeks lifting in a smile behind his mask. He knew it was that favorite smile of this, the one that made him look like a bunny. “I don’t know, hyung, maybe you’re just old.”

“Yah!” Taehyung smacked the maknae on the arm, but the hit was weak as his arms were beginning to feel even sorer as the minutes went on.

“Don’t worry, hyung, I’ll take care of you,” the younger replied.

“When I’m actually old?”

“And now,” Jungkook said, his voice getting audibly shyer. “I’ll always take care of you.”

And he kept to his word.

When they finally arrived back at the cabin, Jungkook helped Taehyung take off the heavy winter clothing and assisted him to lay on the couch. The older let his body rest while the still energized maknae headed off to make dinner again.

Their dinner was followed by Taehyung suggesting a bath. They filled up the giant tub in the bathroom with steaming water and a touch of bubble bath. Jungkook sat behind the older, his chest flush with Taehyung’s back.

The maknae started massaging Taehyung’s sore arms, causing him to let out a groan of relief. Jungkook worked his way down his hyung’s body with his hands, making sure to caress every bit of skin he could like he was mapping out the other’s every curve.

Then, in a brave step for him, Jungkook pressed his lips to Taehyung’s shoulder and began sucking a love bite into the skin. Taehyung titled his head to bare his neck more to his boyfriend, his own hands tracing over the veins in the maknae’s forearms as fingers dug into his thighs.

Gulping against his suddenly dry throat, Taehyung moaned out, “Want to fuck me tonight, baby?”

Jungkook let out a sound somewhere between a moan and whine and replied, “Wanna show you how much I love you, hyung.”

As if to further make his point, Jungkook rolled his hips up against the older’s ass, making sure he could feel the hardness of his cock.

Taehyung couldn’t help the gasp he let out at the feel of it or the wave of arousal that went through his body as a result. “Wanna go to bed?” he questioned, his voice breathy and low.

“No,” Jungkook shook his head before resuming pressing kisses all over his hyung’s neck. “Want you right here.”

Taehyung let out a huff of a chuckle, “Well, it’ll make for easy cleanup, I guess.”

Jungkook’s hands were massaging over his narrow hips and lightly muscled thighs as if he couldn’t get enough. “Hyung,” he whined, “Tell me I can. Tell me I can make love to you right here.”

As if Taehyung could ever say no to the maknae. “Yes, baby. Show me how much you love me.”

Jungkook had always been the kind of person to make a competition out of everything, or at least, he became beyond determined to succeed no matter the task given to him. It was no different when it came to sex and Taehyung had to admit that the younger’s relentless drive to do well was a huge turn on.

So, at the older’s words, Jungkook’s grip on his hyung’s hips tightened before one hand slid around to his front and took hold of his cock. He began tugging at the girth and reveling in the exquisite sounds leaving Taehyung’s mouth at the pleasurable touch.

Taehyung’s own hand reached behind him and buried itself into the maknae’s slightly curly hair at the nape of his neck. He pulled perhaps a bit too hard, but judging by the moan of contentment Jungkook let out, he didn’t seem to mind.

After a few minutes of working Taehyung up with a hand on his dick, Jungkook let go and reached over the edge of the tub to grab at something he had set on the floor earlier. He came back up with a bottle of lube in his hand and wasted no time in pouring some on his fingers.

The first touch of Jungkook’s slender fingers against his entrance made Taehyung moan unabashedly. He’d always been eagerly vocal, especially after Jungkook had told him once that it made him feel more confident in his actions.

The pointer finger slipped in first, and there wasn’t much resistance since Taehyung had taken to fucking himself on his own fingers quite often when he couldn’t be with the younger over the last few months.

Jungkook slipped the middle finger in alongside the first quickly and felt his hyung’s walls hugging the digits. “So tight, hyung,” he commented, his own breathing becoming uneven now.

“Add another, bun,” Taehyung ordered softly as he opened his thighs wider, “I can’t wait for you much longer.”

The maknae groaned at the admission and obliged, slipping three fingers into the older’s tight hole. He started to pump them in and out rhythmically, searching for that one spot inside Taehyung that he knew would make him see stars.

“Oh, Kook!” Taehyung gasped as the maknae pressed the tips of his fingers directly over his prostate. “Right there, baby! Right there!” With one hand still in Jungkook’s hair and the other on the younger’s muscly forearm, his grip tightened.

Jungkook moaned out loudly, his hyung’s pleasure adding immensely to his own. “C-Can I? Can I...”

“Yes,” Taehyung finished for him, “Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard like I know you can.”

The maknae removed his fingers and not a second later was aligning his rock hard cock between Taehyung’s ass cheeks. The head caught on the older’s rim before Jungkook kicked his hips forward and buried himself to the hilt inside of his hyung.

“God, fuck!” Taehyung shouted, the feeling of being filled by his lover’s dick after months both relieving and overwhelming.

“Missed you like this, Tae,” Jungkook grunted, “Missed feeling you around me.”

“Missed your fucking cock inside me so much, Kook,” Taehyung replied, his words becoming dirtier and dirtier as they tended to do when he was aroused. “Wish you could stay here forever.”

Jungkook pulled back, allowing his dick to slide out most of the way before thrusting his hips up once more. Taehyung’s body jolted with the rough movement, the water around them beginning to turn to waves.

The younger man adjusted his grip on his hyung’s hips, no doubt leaving some bruises that would be seen the following days. Jungkook held him tightly, easily, and guided Taehyung’s movements to match his own.

“Fuck!” Taehyung all but screamed as the maknae rammed right into his prostate. “There, Kook. There!”

And Jungkook had no trouble delivering his hyung’s commands. He set a steady pace, his muscles tightening as he worked to move both of their weights together. His thrusts were fast and hard, and of fucking course the Golden Maknae was able to hit his sensitive bundle of nerves every single time without fault.

Taehyung’s grip on the maknae’s hair was probably painful, but Jungkook still didn’t say anything about it and the older was too far out of his mind to really notice it himself.

“It’s...hyung...” Jungkook was panting harshly, sweat forming at his hairline. “‘M gonna...gonna cum...”

The older man tossed his head back against Jungkook’s shoulder, lips parted as he tried to get in some oxygen in between his pleasured moans. “Not yet,” he managed out.

Jungkook’s pace stuttered a bit in confusion, “What?”

“Not yet, Jungkook,” Taehyung repeated, this time more firmly than the last.

“Hyung!”

“You can do it, baby. I know you can.”

Taehyung pushed his hips back forcefully, drawing a whine out of the younger man as his dick was buried inside his hyung even further than before.

But as stated before, Jungkook was never one to back down from a challenge. He felt like he was going to burst with how close he was to that familiar euphoria but held himself back by what seemed like a flimsy thread.

Their movements became violent enough to send the waves higher up the walls of the tub and splash over the edges.

Somewhere far in the back of Taehyung’s mind, he was thankful that their rented cabin was a good distance away from anyone else. They weren’t exactly keeping things quiet, but why should they when they had finally been given the chance?

Taehyung came first, a high-pitched moan leaving his throat as all the muscles in his body coiled with his orgasm. He didn’t revel in his high, however, not when he knew he had a maknae on the brink of his own orgasm right behind him.

“You can cum now, baby,” Taehyung crooned in his familiar, deep baritone. His hand released the younger’s hair from its tight hold and instead moved to softly pet the dark locks. “You were so good to me. Made me feel so good, Kook.”

Jungkook buried his face in his hyung’s neck to muffle his moans as he finally came too.

Taehyung murmured softly to the younger as he felt his warm cum inside of him. He belatedly realized that the water surrounding them was cooling rapidly and reached over to drain a bit from the tub. Then he turned the tap and allowed some fresh, hot water to warm them up again.

“Hyung?”

The older snapped his head towards Jungkook and automatically reached out to caress the side of his face. “Yeah, bun?”

Jungkook was looking at him with slightly hazy eyes, a content smile on his face. “C-Can I have a kiss?”

Taehyung nearly melted at the sweet request but instead nodded and complied, pressing his lips softly against the younger’s. They moved slowly, in no rush, just expressing the love they felt for each other through the motions of their mouths.

“Let’s get cleaned up and head back to bed, yeah?” Taehyung suggested gently.

A few minutes later the two of them were clinging to each other under the blankets, the older’s head resting on the maknae’s shoulder and an arm thrown over his waist. He fell asleep to the sound of Jungkook’s steady, comforting heartbeat resonating in his ears.

--------------------------------------------

Jungkook dressed up in his black winter jacket and snow boots, finishing off his outfit with the scarf and gloves Taehyung had gotten him for Christmas. The scarf was made of some high end, super expensive fabric in a checkered pattern of light blue colors. “Soft and baby blue for my soft baby boy,” Taehyung had said when he’d opened it a few days earlier.

Taehyung was dressed to the nines (as he always was) in a long, midnight blue coat that pulled in at his waist and accentuated his long legs. His feet were adorned with maroon colored boots, a matching scarf around his neck.

“You always make me feel like I’m wearing rags when you wear things like this,” Jungkook complained, a cute pout on his lips that contrasted the awed look in his eyes as he looked at his hyung.

Taehyung chuckled and moved to adjust the younger’s scarf. “That’s why I got you this scarf, silly. So you can fit right in standing next to me,” he teased with a smirk.

“Shut up.”

The older only laughed harder. Once he calmed down, he reached out to grab Jungkook’s gloved hand in his own. “Come on, I want to go see the sunrise!”

Both of them pulled on large black beanies and dark face masks. These were meant to disguise their appearance, but Jungkook and Taehyung both knew their outfits would give them away to any fan. Management didn’t need to know that though.

Hopefully getting up at six o’clock in the morning to go for a hike meant that it was too early for many people to be up yet.

Though it was bitterly cold outside, they could both see that the skies were clear from the first bit of light peeking over the hill opposite to their rented cabin. That had been another reason they’d rented this cabin; it was only a few feet away from a great hiking trail that Seokjin had said had one of the best, pretty unknown views of the sunrise in the morning at the top. It was like a hidden treasure of sorts.

Jungkook and Taehyung gripped each other’s hands and spoke softly to each other as they made their way up the path. It was still too dark to enjoy the nature around them, so they filled their time with talking about anything and everything that came to their minds.

It was about fifteen minutes later that they reached the lookout point. It had gotten brighter in just a few minutes, the sky an orangy-pink color that accented the white of the snow nicely. A coat of fluffy white covered every part of the little village they overlooked, sparkling in the first rays of the morning sunlight.

The two of them both pulled out their cameras from their camera bags and snapped some pictures of the stunning scene before them.

Taehyung checked around them to confirm there was no one else around before pulling off his beanie and face mask, gesturing to the younger to do the same.

Jungkook followed, of course, though his eyes were wide and darting around like a frightened bunny as he did so.

“Take some pictures of me!” Taehyung urged, fixing the mess of his hair his beanie had made and going over to stand next to a tree.

Jungkook grinned and lifted his camera so he could look in the viewfinder. He always locked onto the perfect picture so easily when Taehyung was around, but maybe he was just biased. He snapped a few pictures where the sunlight hit Taehyung’s profile and lit up his adorable smile.

The older pulled Jungkook into his side and took probably too many shots of the two of them together, but he would take any excuse to be close to his boyfriend.

Taehyung eventually did insist on taking some pictures of Jungkook alone, despite the younger’s timid denial.

Jungkook looked ethereal in the photos the older took of him. All gentle, shy smiles and a bit of blush painting his cheeks.

As the older slowly lowered the camera and glanced around once more, the younger furrowed his brows in confusion.

Taehyung turned back to him and placed his hands on the younger’s cheeks. Then he quickly guided Jungkook into a tender kiss.

The maknae startled at first, not expecting it, but he kissed his hyung back easily as his own hands slipped to hold Taehyung’s waist.

“One day,” the older said when they finally pulled away for air and leaned their foreheads against each other, “One day, we won’t have to hide anymore, Jungkook. I promise.”

The maknae squeezed at his hips in response, a silent motion of understanding. “I love you to the other end of the universe and back, hyung.”

The corner’s of Taehyung’s lips quirked up at the words before he moved to press a gentle kiss to Jungkook’s forehead. “I love you to the other end of the universe and back too, baby.”

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A/N: So this kind of just wrote itself. I hope it’s alright. Please let me know what you thought <3

Also, about the Namjoon X BTS request I’m working on, it will be up on Thursday. Thank you so much to the requester for the patience and I hope that it will be worth the wait when you read it!

[if-only-angels-could-prevail]

“American Things” by Tony Kushner

Summer is the season for celebrating freedom, summer is the time when we can almost believe it is possible to be free. American education conditions us for this expectation; school's out! The climate shift seductively whispers emancipation. Warmth opens up the body and envelops it. The body in summer is most easily at home in the world. This is true even when the summer is torrid. I have lived half my life in Louisiana and half in New York City. I know from torrid summers.

On my seventh birthday, midsummer 1968, my mother decorated my cake with sparklers she'd saved from the Fourth of July. This, I thought, was extraordinary, fantastic, sparklers spitting and smoking, dangerous and beautiful atop my birthday cake. In one indelible, ecstatic instant my mother completed a circuit of identification for me, melding two iconographies, of self and of liberty: of birthday cake, delicious confectionery emblem of maternal enthusiasm about my existence, which enthusiasm I shared; and of the nighttime fireworks of pyro-romantic Americana, fireworks-liberty-light which slashed across the evening sky, light which thrilled the heart, light which exclaimed loudly in the thick summer air, light which occasionally tore off fingers and burned houses, the fiery fierce explosive risky light of Independence, of Freedom.

Stonewall, the festival day of lesbian and gay liberation, is followed closely by the Fourth of July; they are exactly one summer week apart. The contiguity of these two festivals of freedom is important, at least to me. Each adds piquancy and meaning to the other. In the years following my 7th birthday I had lost some of my enthusiasm for my own existence, as most queer kids growing up in a hostile world will do. I'd certainly begun to realize how unenthusiastic others, even my parents, would be if they knew I was gay. Such joy in being alive as I can now lay claim to has been returned to me largely because of the successes of the political movement which began, more or less officially, 25 years ago on that June night in the Village. I've learned how absolutely essential to life freedom is.

Lesbian and gay freedom is the same freedom celebrated annually on the Fourth of July. Of this I have no doubt; my mother told me so, back in 1963, by putting sparklers on that cake. She couldn't have made her point more powerfully if she'd planted them on my head. Hers was a gesture we both understood, though at the time neither could have articulated it; "This fantastic fire is yours." Mothers and fathers should do that for their kids: give them fire, and link them proudly and durably to the world in which they live.

One of the paths down which my political instruction came was our family seder. Passover, too, is a celebration of Freedom in sultry, intoxicating heat (Passover actually comes in the spring but in Louisiana the distinction between spring and summer was never clear). Our family read from Haggadahs written by a New Deal Reform rabbinate which was unafraid to draw connections between Pharaonic and modern capitalist exploitations; between the exodus of Jews from Goshen and the journey toward civil rights for African-Americans; unafraid to make the yearning which Jews have repeated for thousands of years a democratic dream of freedom for all peoples. It was impressed upon us, as we sang "America the Beautiful" at the seder's conclusion, that the dream of millennia was due to find its ultimate realization not in Jerusalem but in this country.

The American political tradition to which my parents made me an heir is mostly an immigrant appropriation of certain features and promises of our Constitution, and of the idea of democracy and federalism. This appropriation marries morally and ideologically indeterminate freedom to the more strenuous specific mandates of justice. It is the aggressive, unapologetic, progressive liberalism of the 30s and 40s, a liberalism strongly spiced with socialism, trade unionism and the ethos of internationalism and solidarity.

This liberalism at its best held that citizenship was bestowable on everyone, and sooner or later it would be bestowed. Based first and foremost on reason, and then secondarily on protecting certain articles of faith such as the Bill of Rights, democratic process would eventually shift power from the mighty to the many, in whose hands, democratically and morally speaking, it belongs. Over the course of 200 years, brave, visionary activists and ordinary, moral people had carved out a space, a large sheltering room from which many were now excluded, but which was clearly intended to be capable of multitudes. Within the space of American Freedom there was room for any possibility. American Freedom would become the birthplace of social and economic Justice.

Jews who came to America had gained entrance into this grand salon, as had other immigrant groups: Italians, Irish. Black people, Chicanos and Latinos, Asian-Americans would soon make their own ways, I was told, as would women, as would the working class and the poor -- it could only be a matter of time and struggle.

People who desired sex with people of their own gender, trans-gender people, drag kings and drag queens, deviants from heterosexual normality were not discussed. There was identity, and then there was illness.

I am nearly 38, and anyone who's lived 38 years should have made generational improvements on the politics of his or her parents. For any gay man or lesbian since Stonewall, the politics of homosexual enfranchisement is part of what is to be added to the fund of human experience and understanding that we pass on to the next generation-upon which we hope improvements will be made.

The true motion of freedom is to expand outward. To say that lesbian and gay freedom is the same freedom celebrated annually on the Fourth of July is simply to say that queer and other American freedoms have changed historically, generally in a healthy direction (with allowances for some costly periods of faltering, including recently), and must continue to change if they are to remain meaningful. No freedom that fails to grow will last.

Lesbians and gay men of this generation have added homophobia to the consensus list of social evils: poverty, racism, sexism, exploitation, the ravaging of the environment, censorship, imperialism, war. To be a progressive person is to believe that there are ways to actively intervene against these evils. To be a progressive person is to resist Balkanization, tribalism, separatism; to be progressive is to seek out connection. I am homosexual, and this ought to make me consider how my experience of the world, as someone who is not always welcome, resembles that of others, however unlike me, who have had similar experiences. I demand to be accorded my rights by others; and so I must be prepared to accord to others their rights. The truest characteristic of freedom is generosity, the basic gesture of freedom is to include, not to exclude.

That there would be a reasonably successful movement for lesbian and gay civil rights was scarcely conceivable a generation ago. In spite of these gains, much of the social progress which to my parents seemed a foregone conclusion has not yet been made, and much ground has been lost. Will racism prove to be more intractable, finally, than homophobia? Will the hatred of women, gay and straight, continue to find new and more violent forms of expression, and will gay men and women of color remain doubly, or triply oppressed, while white gay men find greater measures of acceptance, simply because they are white men?

The tensions which have defined American history and American political consciousness have most often been those existing between the margin and the center, the many and the few, the individual and society, the dispossessed and the possessors. It is a peculiar feature of our political life that some of these tensions are frequently discussed and easily grasped, such as those existing between the states and the federal government, or between the rights of individuals and society's claims upon them; while others' tensions, especially those which are occasioned by the claims of marginalized peoples, are regarded with suspicion and fear. Listing the full catalog of these claims is sure to raise howls decrying "political correctness" from those who need desperately to believe that democracy is a simple thing.

Democracy isn't simple and it doesn't mean that majorities tyrannize minorities. We learned this a long time ago, from, among others, the Moses of that Jewish American Book of Exodus, Louis Dembitz Brandeis, or, in more recent times, from Thurgood Marshall. In these days of demographic shifts, when majorities are disappearing, this knowledge is particularly useful, and it needs to be expanded. There are in this country political traditions congenial to the idea that democracy is multicolored and multicultural and also multigendered, that democracy is about returning to individuals the fullest range of their freedoms, but also about the sharing of power, about the rediscovery of collective responsibility. There are in this country political traditions, from organized labor, from the civil-rights and black-power movements, from feminist and homosexual liberation movements, from movements for economic reform, which postulate democracy as a dynamic process. These traditions exist in opposition to those which make fixed fetishes of democracy and freedom, talismans for reaction.

These traditions, which constitute the history of progressive and radical America, have been shunted to the side in an attempt at revisionism that began during the McCarthy era. Over the course of American history since World War II, the terms of the national debate have subtly, insidiously shifted. What used to be called liberal is now called radical, what used to be called radical is now called insane. What used to be called reactionary is now called moderate, and what used to be called insane is now called solid conservative thinking.

The recovery of antecedents is immensely important work. Historians are reconstructing the lost history of homosexual America, along with all the other lost histories. Freedom, I think, is finally being at home in the world, it is a returning -- to the best particulars of the home you came from, or the arrival, after a lengthy and arduous journey, at the home you never had, which your dreams and desires have described for you.

I have a guilty confession to make. When I am depressed, when nerve or inspiration or energy flag, I put on Dvorak's Ninth Symphony, "From the New World"; I get teary listening to the Largo. It's become one of the alltime most shopworn musical cliches, which is regrettable. My father, who is a symphony conductor, told me that Dvorak wrote it in America and then contributed all the money from the New World Symphony's premiere to a school that accepted former slaves. But as the story goes, his daughter fell in love with a Native American and Dvorak took the whole family back to Bohemia.

Like many Americans I'm looking for home. Home is an absence, it is a loss that impels us. I want this home to be like the Largo from the New World Symphony. But life most frequently resembles something by Schoenberg, the last quartet, the one he wrote after his first heart attack. Life these days is played out to the tune of that soundtrack. Or something atonal, anyway, something derivative of Schoenberg, some piece written by one of his less talented pupils.

The only politics that can survive an encounter with this world, and still speak convincingly of freedom and justice and democracy, is a politics that can encompass both the harmonics and the dissonance. The frazzle, the rubbed-raw, the unresolved, the fragile and the fiery and the dangerous: these are American things. This jangle is our movement forward, if we are to move forward; it is our survival, if we are to survive.

[indigobluealchemy]

The culture of nomadic Halflings of the Tatenta Plains

This is In My Eberron, and is no way cannon.  It's formatted off the write ups of nomadic cultures from everyculture.com

Introduction

The nomadic Halflings of the Tatenta Plains do not have a particularly hard or grim life. Given their dragonmarks they tend to not starve or die of needless illness. They are too small to conquerors and too isolated and mobile to be conquered. Being small, they need warriors to fight the big predators that want to eat them and their children, but over all, they have a good life. They have domesticated some of dinosaurs that are near their size, and are skilled at avoiding the larger and more dangerous ones.

Halflings is nomads because the Tatenta Plains is not fertile enough to support them staying one place. At the core of pastoral nomadism is migration, the pattern of which is determined by a combination of seasonal variability in the location of pasture and water. Because water and grass can be in short supply in a particular area at the same time that it is abundant elsewhere, survival of both herds and herders makes movement from deficit to surplus areas both logical and necessary.

There is more information about Eberron Halflings in Learn more: Eberron: Rising from the Last War(2019) chapter 1, Player's Guide to Eberron (2006) “Halflings.” that probably doesn't match what I have written. Use what works for you.

Location

The traditional homeland of the Halflings is the Tatenta Plains though Halfings can be found everywhere in Khorvaire where there is "civilization". You are much more likely to find a halfling in a city or town than the Demon Wastes.

Language

Halfling speak Common and Halfling.

Religion

The Halflings typically worship Balinor among the Sovereign Host and are strong followers of spirit worship. Talenta religion is based around reverence for spirits, both departed ancestors and the spirits of the natural world. They see no dichotomy in following both the Host and spirits. Each nomadic tribe has a lath—a chieftain who guides and protects the tribe—but it is the shamans who consult the spirits and choose the paths of migration.

In the traditional Halfling religion, both living beings, dead beings and inanimate objects such as trees had spirits that could guild them. A priest or shaman acted as an intermediary between the spiritual and material worlds. He would consult with the dead, living and dead, while in a trance induced by beating on a magic drum and performing a special kind of chanting.

Major Holidays

The themed festivals of the Waundering Festivals, across the Talanta Plains are important to them. https://www.reddit.com/r/Eberron/comments/3uas1s/traveling_festivals_for_the_talenta_plains/

They also have simple holidays at the summer and winter solstices as well as the spring and fall equinoxes. They offer toasts to the elders, eat and drink a great deal, and listen to storytelling all night long. Epic dancing , drumming and singing, as well as other physical activities and more drinking, are part of the celebration. The quarterly festivals are often times of marriage.

Relationships

There are no inns or hotels in the boundless grasslands, but one can always count on the Halflings for help. Their hospitality displays the generosity that is characteristic of nomadic peoples. The master of a Tardis caravan carts or Tardis tent will put up a stranger for the night. Multiple strangers will be split up among locations. They offer goat milk tea, mutton, and wine. The whole family shows concern by asking detailed questions. Upon leaving, the guest will be accompanied for quite a distance, then told the direction of his destination.

Living Conditions

Tardis caravan carts or Tardis tents are the traditional housing of the halflings. Several family member sleep in and round the tent/caravan cart at night.

Cooking is done outside over fires.

Dinosaur riding, or walking, is the traditional mode of transportation.

House Ghallanda will work to make living conditions easier during bad weather or times of trouble. House Jorasco will also do what they can to make people live better and longer. Not saying the houses will make their tribes live like kings, but will help them live better than the environment would allow. Neither House is terribly concerned about payment since this is for family.

Family Life

The three-generation Halfling extended family is the ideal domestic unit. Although this group, averaging between nine and eleven persons, may sleep under more than one tent or shelter, its meals are generally taken together. Though man and wife units are the norm, it's perfectly fine to have a husband and husband or wife and wife and they can adopt orphans. Families are close-knit with a great deal of attention paid to the children. A newly formed nuclear family tends to remain with the larger domestic unit until it has sufficient manpower and a large enough herd to survive on its own. The children, after marrying, move out of their parents' home. However, they live nearby and may travel with their parents in search of new pastures.All members of a family are magically tattooed (All the tattoo without the pain and can be removed or altered) with a family and personal symbol. Herding families use these marks to distinguish their dinosaurs and other livestock, from those of other families.

Children and infants are raised by the extended family unit. Parents, older siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins all take part in the rearing of the young. By the age of 6 or 7, the child begins to take on simple household tasks and soon thereafter becomes a full working member of the family. Adolescence is hardly recognized; by the early teens, the individual is accepted as a full working member of Halfling society.

Halfling society is traditionally open and egalitarian, and the Halfling are known for their courtesy and hospitality to outsiders.

Clothing

Halflings wear, (and I have to indulge in modern day analogies to describe it), is a mix of 17th century clothes, tribal tattoos and primitive bones and shells. Sort of a mix of burning man and steam punk. Dinosaur leather is always an element of their clothing as well as cotton and linen. Never shoes, how are they supposed to be connected to the Land.

Warriors wear dinosaur skull helmets and more dinosaur leathers. Headers wear more stone and bone jewelry.

Food

The main traditional foods of the halflings include dinosaur meat and eggs, goat, mutton, and milk products, supplemented by found vegetables. Halflings drink the milk of goats, and sheep, as well as tea and wine. Common dishes include dumplings, steamed stuffed buns, and meat pie. Meals are augmented by House Ghallanda cooks.

Grains and flours are purchased from the 5 nations, they are not part of traditional nomadic foods. However, halfling love their bread so they buy the flour.

Supper is the main (and traditionally, the only hot) meal of the day. Dinosaur meat is a protein-rich dietary staple. Even the dinosaur 's blood is used, for sausages. Fish and amphibians caught in the many ponds on the Halfling routes are eaten boiled, grilled, dried, smoked, or salted. Wild berries are another mainstay of the halflings diet. Berry alcohol is prepped and buried and retrieved when they pass through a year later.

Education

Halfling value usable and portable forms of education like history, ballads, animal husbandry, crafting, storytelling, healing. Being nomads, they have no use for education that needs fixed infrastructure like forges or libraries.

Cultural Heritage

The Halflings are known for the House Ghallanda and House Jorasco. Other resources go into detail on the houses.

The Wandering Festivals - Being nomads, they don't have many permanent settlements. However they do have themed gatherings and festivals for every month at various spots across the Talenta Plains where they converge.

The Talenta Halflings have a rich collection of oral literature that includes myths, legends, folktales, riddles, and proverbs that has only recently been discovered by the Dragons to have clues to the Prophesy. Bards are common among nomadic halflings.

Traditional musical instruments are mostly limited to the single-stringed instrument, various types of drums, and a type of recorder or wind instrument. Almost all Talenta Halflings have at least one small drum and are passably good at jamming with other with it. When a halfling is lost, a community will play drums to guide them home.

Employment and Economy

Most Halflings of the Talenta Plain engaged in livestock husbandry, raising mainly dinosaurs, sheep, and goats. Halflings cooperated in hunting, trapping, and fishing depending on where they are at them time. Talenta dinosaurs, are used for transport and as a source of eggs, and they are the subject of dance and songs. The Halflings develop a reverence for dinosaurs from childhood. Most children love dinosaurs riding, and participate in games and races on dinosaurback.

The division of labor among Halfling is determined age and by the type of animals that are herded. The larger domesticated dinosaurs are the responsibility of the older folk. Children are often barred from close contact with these animals so they don't get killed. It is generally the responsibility of the children to herd, feed, and milk the smaller mammal animals (i.e., goats and sheep).

The Halflings, in general and of House Ghallanda and House Jorasco are employed across Khorvaire and send remittances home to their families to make their lives less hard and buy them luxuries of cloth, flour and better tools and Tardis Tents.

Wandering Inn Is a nomadic pack of caravans that mimics cruise ships and offers the same luxuries one would find in most Ghallanda enclaves.   (This is all I know of the Wandering Inn)

Sports

The three main sports in the Talenta Plains are clawfoot raptor racing, ranged attacks, and wrestling.

For wrestling, after a day's work, everyone gathers near the Lath's wagon. There is no weight or gender classes, it's a just two opponents. Each are trying to knock the other off balance till they touch a knee and elbow to the ground. But this done while singing an agreed upon song or ballad duet and if one or both stop singing the song, they also lose. In game play terms, the first wrestler makes an athletics or aerobics roll the other wrestler must equal or beat. If they fail, they must make a performance roll save vs DC 15 or they have lost the song and the match.

Halflings use a row of small woven leather rings about 10 feet long. Halflings use short bows to shoot 10 arrows from about 200 feet and the winner is has the most arrows within the rings. For sling contests, the range is 100 feet. For the Talenta Boomerang, there is a rod 30 foot way. The contestant throws 5 times and the throws that do damage to the stick count. However if they miss, the boomerang will return, and if they catch the boomerang, they can throw once more. If it misses on the second attempt, it counts as a fail.

Mount Racing, Weekly racing involves the riders and mounts doing either athletics or acrobatics contents. This is speed (athletics) contests of the riders and mounts riding out and back the fastest. Once a month, a complicated course is set that tests the riders and mounts acrobatic skills to weave and dodge the best.

The annual event for wrestling and ranged attacks is the Rough and Tumble Games during Olarune.

The annual Dravago Stock Fair during the month of Dravago, features formal athletics or acrobatics contests for the halfling and their mounts; Carver, Clawfoot, Fastieth, and Glidewing. There are traditional short track races and acrobatic contests similar to their nomadic contests. There is a marathon race of 300 miles over 6 days.

Recreation

Halflings entertainment is provided both by expressive activities, including storytelling and singing, and physical contests such as wrestling, ranged contest and racing.

A traditional board game for rainy days involves one character playing a clawfoot raptor and the other a hunter and companions. The players maneuver their pieces around a board with the hunter trying to corner the predator before he or she "eats" all the hunter's pieces.

Crafts and Hobbies

The Talenta Halflings produce beautiful crafts, carving a variety of objects—such as tools and utensils—from bone, wood, dinosaur leather, dinosaur shell, and precious metals (so long it doesn't need a large forge), often with geometric motifs. The Talenta Halflings make decorative beaded jewelry including necklaces, earrings, headbands, and wrist and ankle bracelets. Talenta Halflings also excel in wood carvings, Their crafts are popular tourist purchases, although the Halflings save many of their creations for their own use.

----------------------

The Tardis Tent. When set up, the inside of the tent is 3x bigger than the outside footprint. Opening door or window flaps does not cause problems. As it taken down, it gently contracts to its natural footprint. If the tent is destroyed, HP <= 0 or less, it violently contracts doing 2d6-2 damage if the tent has contents.)

The Tardis Caravan cart. The Caravan cart is bigger on the inside. The Tardist Cart had one larger room and two smaller ones, with wood walls. The cart is approx 3 times large than it seems on the outside. If the cart is destroyed, HP <= 0 or less, it violently contracts doing 4d6 damage to what ever is inside And then explodes if there is too much stuff for the space. 

[haberdashing]

but i always thought that i’d see you again

Pokemon world fic featuring one of my OCs.

Blair, a pessimistic and cynical Pokemon breeder, reflects upon their distaste for the holiday season, which stems from the unfortunate timing of the deaths of two immediate family members.

Written as part of @badthingshappenbingo​ for the trope “Never Got To Say Goodbye”; my current bingo card will be posted at the end of the fic, below the cut.

on AO3

Blair, frankly, hated the winter holiday season. They hated Christmas and New Year’s with a passion, hated that the frigid air made it hard even for Delta to keep all their eggs warm, and generally would be very much happy if the calendar excluded the entire month of December, and possibly November for good measure.

It wasn’t about simple practicality, about disliking having to buy presents or go to family parties, because Blair didn’t have to deal with any of that. Sure, they had gotten an invite to go spend Christmas day with some cousins, but they had no intention of taking them up on the offer. Even if they wanted to trudge through the snow and ice just to see a bunch of semi-distant family members (and they didn't particularly), they had work to attend to, work that wouldn’t always allow for spur-of-the-moment trips, especially when they had rather a lot of eggs to cart around with them.

And business was always good this time of year. Sure, the cold made it a bit trickier to keep all their Pokemon wrangled, to keep their fragile eggs nice and toasty, but around the holidays, that hard work always paid off. Lots of people wanted to give their loved ones newly-hatched Pokemon as Christmas gifts, it seemed, a desire that Blair as a breeder was all too willing to accommodate. It was a nice breather from most of their usual clientele and their less idyllic plans for the Pokemon being bred for them, really.

No, their hatred of Christmastime spread from another source altogether, one that had little to do with the chill in the air that froze their eggs if they (or Delta) weren't careful and everything to do with a tragic event that would change Blair’s life forever happening to fall awfully close to the time of the winter holidays, tainting their perception of the holidays for the rest of their life.

Blair’s sister, Blake, and their mother had left on their last ever poaching trip in late November, which wasn’t technically winter yet, admittedly, but that unmistakable winter chill in the air had already arrived just the same. It was early enough in the season that the two of them would undoubtedly be home in time for Christmas, but late enough that some of their catches might well end up as Christmas gifts down the line, a busy season for both poachers and breeders alike. (That, at least, hadn't changed, Blair thought to themself as they watched Delta tend to their current batch of eggs.)

Blair and their father had seen them off as they usually did, with an unceremonial meeting in the hallway by the front door as the two were getting ready to head off on their latest expedition, the family Christmas tree visible in the background. The pair brought plenty of warm clothes for the winter weather to come, making their bags even heavier than normal, but they could handle it. They always did, after all. (Part of that, at least, was still the same. Blair was handling things the same as always, better even, now that they had Delta to warm their eggs.)

They did some of the usual sentimental crap, hugging and wishing each other well and assuring each other that they'd be home in time for the holidays, but that wasn't the note that they left on. Blake had looked over at Blair, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and said, "Hope you don't get too badly poisoned while I'm gone." This had been before Blair had sold off most of the family breeding stock, before the eggs that they cared for were predominantly Poison-type, but there were still enough Poison-types in the mix that poisoning was a real enough danger to be considered.

And Blair had responded, with a similar twinkle in their eye, "And I hope you don't freeze to death while you're out there." It had been just a casual comment, a joke even, the sort of humorous exchange the twins had made time and time again over the years. Normally, it would have been forgotten before the month was out... but as things turned out, it was a statement that Blair would never allow themself to forget making.

And that was it, more or less. Blake and their mother left to go on their poaching expedition, to brave the cold in the hopes of finding some good Pokemon to sell, and Blair and their father stayed home and tended to eggs (as they still do now, they supposed, albeit with Delta helping with the eggs instead of their father), and everything seemed normal enough for a time. Blair couldn't remember, afterwards, when it mattered, if they'd actually outright said goodbye to Blake and their mother beforehand. They didn't think they did. But it seemed like just a formality at the time, how could they have known?

The knock on the door had come on a day that had seemed ordinary enough. Blair and their father had both been tending to the eggs (perhaps some part of them would always think of that, even now, when their current batch of eggs was so far removed from those ones) when it came, and while only one of them was strictly needed to answer the door, Blair had followed their father inside, glad to get a respite from the winter chill outside. It would be rather early for Blake and their mother to be home, so Blair's initial guess was that it was some door-to-door salesman doing the rounds, not an uncommon happening around those parts.

It didn't take long for Blair to notice that the person at the door was not, in fact, a door-to-door salesman, but instead a local police officer in full uniform. Even with this information, though, their mind leaped to the wrong conclusion, thinking that their mother and sister must have gotten busted by the police for poaching, that they must be in jail now. That would be a rough way to start the holidays, for sure, but as it turned out, that would be more pleasant than the reality of the situation, one that would ruin not only that holiday season but every one in the years to come.

The police officer spoke only to Blair's dad at first, not directly to them, and he spoke quietly enough that Blair couldn't make out what he was saying, which Blair initially thought was him being unintentionally rude but later figured was him trying to spare a child from hearing gory details about the fate of their relatives shortly before the holidays. Over the months and years that followed, Blair went back and forth between thinking that the police officer was in the right to do this and thinking that they should have just broken the news to both of them at the same time, gory details and all. It's not like they wouldn't find out eventually anyway, and they weren't that young at the time...

Whatever Blair thought of it in hindsight, whether the police officer was right or wrong, he left before speaking to Blair in person, leaving their father, newly grieving, with the task of explaining what had happened to his child. "What was that about?" Blair had asked, still largely clinging to the theory that their mother and sister were rotting in Caecus jail right now. It took a moment for Blair's father to summon the courage to respond. "You know how Blake and your mom were supposed to be home in time for Christmas?" Blair had nodded, still not realizing what their father was getting at; surely a mere poaching charge would come with a reasonable bail amount, right?

"Well, uh, sweetheart-" That was enough to set Blair on edge a little; their father didn't use the term "sweetheart" on them often, and when he did it was usually either to make a point or a vain attempt to soften harsher speech to follow. "Yeah?" "They're not going to be home for Christmas, Blair. They're... they're not coming home at all." The words hung in the air for a long, silent moment as the reality that Blair's father was dancing around began to sink in.

It took longer than it should have for Blair to realize what their father was getting at; even now, they'd look back at their past self and wonder how they could have been so naive, how they could have not known of the cruelties that the world would deal out without warning or apology. To their credit, they did put the pieces together eventually, realizing that what their father was referring to was a much graver problem than mere arrests. "What... what happened to them?"

Blair's father took a deep breath and let it out before replying. "Well, they don't know the full story, it sounds like... but a hiker out on the Bends found them. They think a wild Pokemon must have attacked, caught them off-guard so they had no time to get out their own Pokemon before it was too late..." Blair wasn't sure they bought it. Blake and their mother had been to the Bends time and time again; they knew the risks, knew the dangers, knew what precautions to take to avoid the worst of it. If they had been caught off-guard by a Pokemon attack, there was no way to be sure that the attacking Pokemon was wild... ...man, they really wished they could've talked to that police officer before he'd decided to abscond.

Blair's father started crying before they did. Part of them saw that as weakness on his part, that he was the first to break down, not able to last as long as someone who wasn't even technically an adult yet. But part of them understood. Part of them knew his world was falling apart just like theirs was, even if they had different means of coping with it, different ways of putting together the pieces. On that night, a few days before Christmas, Blair and their father hugged and cried and grieved for all that they had lost, for all that would have to change on a moment's notice.

The next few weeks, during a time that was supposed to be filled with festivity and cheer, were filled with a series of entirely different emotions that all seemed to blur together just as the days themselves did. Sadness and grief, of course. Anger, at whoever had killed Blake and their mother, at the police for not investigating further. Guilt, for possibly jinxing their final outing, for not sending them off with a proper farewell, for not doing more to help keep them safe, for living when they no longer did.

Breeding helped a little. Going through the motions, doing the same tasks they'd done day in and day out before... maybe that's why they'd hung onto it, kept working as a breeder and caring for eggs even to this day rather than seeking out a different profession. It was something they'd done before the worst happened, something familiar, something they could fix their mind on instead of focusing on everything else they had to deal with.

But breeding could only do so much. Caring for eggs, eggs that were destined to end up owned by another, was no replacement for a mother, for a sister, and, eventually, for a father. (That last loss wasn't during the holiday season, but it was still technically winter at the time, further souring Blair on the season as a whole.) And funerals were certainly no replacement for the family's usual holiday celebrations...

Since then, Blair has loathed the holiday season. Where others see festivity and bonding and bliss, Blair sees funerals and a police officer breaking the worst news imaginable. Tending to eggs helps distract them a little, but only so much. If hating Christmas makes them a grinch, well, so be it. They'd rather be a grinch than pretend to enjoy something that makes their heart ache.