#I think the only unfair point Marcus made was at the end when he said that he hoped their children were nothing like Bernie

[and-to-you-its-just-words]

You know, I’m watching that scene where Marcus confronts Bernie about her affair, and I can’t help but think about the scene in Love Actually where Emma Thompson confronts Alan Rickman about his affair.

Emma Thompson says “Yes, but you’ve also made a fool out of me, you’ve made the life I lead foolish too.”

And like, UGH. It breaks your heart a bit. And I think it can very much be the dynamic between Bernie and Marcus. The whole episode Marcus takes pride in showing how well he knows his wife. After 25 years, how could you not? To then find out that not only has your wife not been faithful, you have somehow missed one very crucial thing about your wife. The person you’re supposed to know better than anyone else. Marcus, in a very short amount of time, starts to wonder if any of it was real. All the love he has for Bernie, for their children, for making their marriage work despite extenuating circumstances, for trying to raise their kids not to hate their mother, for keeping the front porch light on waiting for Bernie to come home, for spending most of his marriage sleeping alone…was it worth it? Marcus values the life he’s built, the one he thought he built with Bernie. Except now she doesn’t want that life, maybe she never wanted it. How absolutely devastating it would be to learn that it all might have been a lie?

And don’t get me wrong, I love Bernie, I’m glad she finally figured out what she wanted and ended their marriage. But it doesn’t change the fact that she made a fool out of Marcus, and made the life he led for 25 years foolish too.

[goldrushenthusiast]

No bc what if Snow’s hatred and realization of Katniss’ power started before the berries? Think about it.

The obvious, shooting an arrow at the game makers. All of them thought about how cool it was, blah blah blah, but what if Snow looked at that and saw Sejanus? Sejanus, throwing a chair at the screen when they brought out Marcus, his dead friend. And Sejanus was raised capitol. And he didn’t have a romance going on.

Snow knew the potential that Katniss had, if she saw something unfair. He heard about the tribute who was in love, who was causing a ruckus in the training room, and he knew what that led too because he’s seen it. He wasn’t as worried about Peeta because he didn’t have the same fire that snow himself once had in him. He knew how people swooned for a love story (director people being romantics, saying he cheated in the games for love and letting him off the bad hook), and the power Katniss would have if she turned rebel.

Second reason, which is way less obvious. MEADOW SONG. Lucy Gray didn’t sing it at the Hob. She only sang it on television, and to her family. And Dr. Gaul said that she had destroyed every last tape of it, save for one for herself. And how easy would that have been for him to get and destroy, especially once he had killed her (which I believe he definitely did, but that’s unrelated. Mostly).

Katniss sang the meadow song. The meadow song, which has only one (possibly destroyed copy) of it on record. So where else would she have learned it? Someone connected to Lucy Gray. Snow is terrified of anyone coming back from that part of his past to haunt him. He now knows Katniss is somehow connected/related to Lucy Gray, the girl who nearly shook his entire value system and made him rethink everything (just like Katniss did with Panem, btw).

Snow knows how dangerous this girl is. He knows what she could do with her power, but he has to make sure the country doesn’t know what she has because they will be the ones giving it to her. He has to make sure the (possibly STILL ALIVE at that point (he probably checked she wasn’t during his visit before the quarter quell)) Lucy Gray didn’t know how dangerous she was.

That’s why he had her dress up. Not to make her seem like a lovesick schoolgirl, but a harmless lovesick schoolgirl. One with no fire in her. Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire, extinguished, along with any trace of rebellion. The capitol and all of panem has seen her strategies, her brutality, and her soft side. They can’t be fooled by dresses, unless Katniss believes she can fool them through dresses.

It’s so many layers. The capitol people at the bottom, who needed no convincing. Then the district people, who wouldn’t be able to afford to not care about how Katniss saw herself. If they saw Katniss seeing herself as unfit for the rebellion, they would too, thus eliminating any chance of it (to Snow). Next, Katniss. She thinks she knows why she has to wear the stupid dresses. She thinks she knows her power if she stayed strong, and she must do everything in her power not to do that. But she doesn’t understand the extent of it (until the tour and uprisings in 8).

Snow knows ALL of this. He made the layers, separating them. He perfected it and he is all around it. He knows what each layers thinking, because he has thought it too. He’s thought it all through, all the steps, all the layers, and he only has one conclusion; Snow lands on top.

As always thank you for reading this if you did! And I truly did mean to make this bosas analysis short, but as you can see it is not (unless you compare it to my others). What’s amazing to me is the last line in this, the snow lands on top. Because so far you are thinking about how it’s Katniss’ actions and Snow’s reactions, but he’s kind of on top of it all in the end. This whole post was about him, and that’s also sort of a metaphor for the books themselves. How Katniss was the main character of the rebellion, but Snow/Coin were the real ones behind the rebellion (both sides). Just brain candy, yk?

[ailydawn]

The finale of Arcane has been amazing and pretty mind blowing! So I wanted below to share my opinion on certain topics that I keep seeing in discussions. Please feel free to ignore my rant, I just wanted to get things off my chest.

Recently I’ve started seeing a lot of praise going towards Silco and a lot of hate towards Vi for not accepting Jinx. What frustrates me is how fast people turn to extremes by saying that Vi doesn’t love Powder/Jinx anymore or that Silco was the only one that did. I’m sorry but that’s just not true and totally unfair to Vi.

Vi always loved and supported Powder in their childhood even when she kept jinxing their raids. She never lashed out the way Mylo did and was always supportive of her by saying that Powder is strong (but in a different way). The only time she (understandably) lashed out was when Powder by accident killed their whole family, and even then she still tried to run back to her but was stopped by Marcus. People seem to keep forgetting that Powder wasn’t the only one that suffered that night. Despite her grief from losing loved ones, her sister was the only person Vi thought about while in prison and the first person she tried to find once she was free. When she did, Vi hasn’t blamed Powder for the earlier mistakes no matter how literally deadly they were because she knew that Powder’s heart was in the right place and it was just a terrible mistake and accident.

To people saying that Vi only cares about Powder and not Jinx I want to say that Vi overall in the show wasn’t given much time to understand the new Powder and the extent of her mental trauma. Because honestly, not much time was given to her by the show to even get to know Jinx since getting free from prison. Also accepting Jinx with all her traumas and accidental mistakes is one thing, but another is accepting that Jinx enjoys killing and causing destruction. That IMO might be the main point of conflict for them and why they’re now following such different paths.

Because of Caitlyn, Vi saw enforcers and people from Piltover from a slightly different point of view. She saw that good people can exist on both sides, that there’re people willing to help Zaun. Unfortunately, Jinx wasn’t given this opportunity, partly due to Silco’s brainwashing. She has seen Vi change her stance on Piltover/enforcers and ironically ALSO couldn’t accept Vi for the way she is. “Here’s to the new us” she said at end of 1x09. Their ideologies now became quite different. Last advice that Vander has left to Vi was to “have a good heart”, hence Vi wouldn’t be able to force herself to accept unnecessary violence and deaths of innocents. While Silco taught Jinx that she has to fight against Piltover with any means necessary. “We’ll show them all” was the motto that she is now following.

Also it’s easy for us to praise Silco for being such a “good” father and for accepting Jinx the way she is when he was the one who encouraged her to develop her most destructive side, indulged her madness. He loved Jinx for sure but it didn’t contradict his morals. For him it was beneficial, cause overall her actions were fitting to his agenda. Both the revolution and keeping Jinx to himself. If we think about it, he never actually accepted the Powder side of Jinx. He tried to erase it with that lake scene because keeping it meant a chance of losing Jinx to Vi, and to Vander in some way.

I guess I just want people to cut some slack to Vi (who I know made a few mistakes of her own) and not to idealize Silco now. The show is about shades of grey and not just things being black and white. Vi most likely still loves her sister, but now because of the violence and destruction that she has caused and would keep causing in the future, Vi will feel like it’s her responsibility to convince her to stop. Sad thing is that Jinx doesn’t want to stop, so it’ll keep being a cat&mouse chase. Their lives are a Greek tragedy, where things could have been resolved and prevented but weren’t due circumstances or simple human flaws. I still really love both Jinx and Vi and grateful that a show like Arcane exists that makes me feel for characters so deeply.

Ooof, I’m done 😅 If you’ve read this wall of text, I wanna say thanks for sticking with me.

[apinchofm]

Fake Dating

Prompt - 'My grandma is in love with you and she lives far away, so why not pretend to be a couple for the few days we see her, it would make her so happy'

Note: I love Ysabeau and Marcus' relationship, so this would be really cute.

Human AU

"Oh, Marcus I can't seem to hear you," Ysabeau complained. Marcus held back a laugh as his uncle Hugh fixed her iPad (taking her off mute and setting it up on its stand.)

"Oh," She clapped her hands happily when she could see and hear him. Technology wasn't her strong suit, but she liked getting to see Marcus and asking him to fly back and forth was unfair.

As they caught up, Phoebe arrived at his house as she always did on a Friday. She knew how close Marcus was with his grandmother, finding it really sweet. It was one of the things she loved about her friend.

"Hello," Phoebe smiled and waved.

"Is this Phoebe?" Ysabeau whispered excitedly. Phoebe raised her eyebrow at Marcus, who seemed to blush.

"Yes, I'm Phoebe." She smiled and the older woman smiled wider.

"Oh, Marcus has told me so much about you! You didn't how beautiful she was," Ysabeau complimented, "Not that it is your most important quality of course."

"Thank you." Phoebe laughed slightly.

"Marcus, ask her."

"I will. Love you. Bye," He ended the call abruptly.

"Ask me what?" Phoebe asked, following him to the kitchen. Marcus sighed as he started pulling out ingredients for dinner.

"She wants me to bring you to Sept-Tours. For the harvest festival in the village. Old family tradition." He explained.

"Well, why don't I go with you?" Phoebe offered.

"What?"

"I mean, I'm not doing anything and I would love to finally meet Ysabeau in person." She shrugged, "Plus, it gets your family off your back."

Marcus pressed a kiss to her forehead and hugged her, swinging her around making her laugh.

"Phoebe Taylor, you are an angel amongst women."

●○●○●○●○●○●

"Wow," Phoebe breathed out as they approached Sept-Tours.

"What?" Marcus asked, confused as he parked the car.

"I didn't think you owned a castle."

Phoebe instantly got nervous as they got out of the car. Marcus, sensing this, intertwined his fingers with hers.

"Come on." He encouraged.

"You own a castle." She repeated.

Marcus nudged her playfully, "Um, hello. St Paul's? Cambridge? Daddy in the diplomatic service?"

"Oh please, we're upper-middle class. You were raised in a castle." Phoebe retorted.

"When I wasn't at boarding school. Or getting kicked out of boarding school." Marcus replied.

A small, kind-looking woman came out of the house, checking on the people decorating the outside with holly and other festive plants.

Marcus gave her a hug and a kiss, "Phoebe, this is Marthe. She runs the place."

Then Ysabeau de Clermont appeared and Phoebe felt herself shrink. It was like meeting royalty and she certainly dressed like it, in a pantsuit and tweed jacket, a string of pearls around her neck.

"Marcus!" She smiled and Marcus hugged and kissed her as Phoebe smiled at the two of them.

"Let me look at you. Are you eating enough? You are always so busy, you can be worse than your father." She complained looking at him over and fixing his collar.

Marcus laughed, "I'm fine, grand-mere." He then indicated to Phoebe with a proud smile, "This is Phoebe Taylor."

Ysabeau then turned to Phoebe, "How lovely it is to finally meet you in person."

Phoebe replied instantly in French, "Thank you for having me. It's an honour." The older woman smiled, impressed.

"I think we will get along splendidly." She smiled and Phoebe felt herself relax slightly and Marcus smiled at her.

●○●○●○●○●○●

They both flopped down on the bed, that had been made up nicely. The two didn't mind sleeping in the same bed, having done so on multiple occasions.

"You have always had an obsession with the 80s." Phoebe pointed to the Queen poster. Marcus playfully nudged her.

"She's terrifying," Phoebe said after a while.

"Only at first. But she's warm and cuddly at the core. I don't think I would've straightened out if it wasn't for her."

"Well, you turned out pretty great," Phoebe replied.

Phoebe turned on her side, "Will the rest of them like me?" Marcus turned to her.

"Of course they will. I think everyone will be more surprised that I convinced you to be around me. You're all proper and lovely. We're the uncivilised ones.'

"That's where the plan falls apart. I'm out of your league." Phoebe teased and Marcus laughed.

●○●○●○●○●○●

"Marcus!"

Marcus hugged his grandfather who had been holed up in his office. Philippe looked him over.

"You look well, my boy."

"He brought his girlfriend," Ysabeau mentioned. Philippe turned to him with an interesting look.

"Speaking of which, I am going to get ready for dinner," He jogged away, not wanting to answer his grandfather's questions.

"Ysabeau, what are you doing?" Philippe asked. He knew his wife. Always scheming, particularly when it came to Marcus.

"I want a wedding, mon coeur." She replied and he laughed heartily, kissing his wife.

"You are dangerous."

●○●○●○●○●○●

"Alright, I'm ready" Phoebe had changed into a red satin dress and had tied her curls into an updo. She stepped out of the bathroom as Marcus' eyes widened as he took her in.

"Uh- hello. You look..." Marcus failed to find the words, "Beautiful. I mean you always look beautiful, but you look very beautiful."

"You don't look too bad yourself." Phoebe giggled, teasingly pulling at the lapel of his suit.

Marcus held out his hand and Phoebe clasped it tightly, "Ready for the cult meeting?"

The dinner was actually quite nice. Phoebe and Marcus were seated closer to Ysabeau at one end at the long table, across from them. Phoebe took a liking to Hugh and Fernando, who was seated nearby. The two were perhaps the nicest of the family.

But they spent the majority of dinner whispering to each other, Marcus telling her embarrassing stories. Phoebe tried not to shiver whenever he mindlessly traced his finger on the back of her neck or arm, lingering.

In the same way, he tried not to tense up when she rubbed his leg or leaned into him.

"Marcus, since you seem so insistent on whispering, do you want to update us on how you have been?" Philippe said, after having a conversation with one of his daughters. All eyes were on the two of them, and Phoebe understood why Marcus called it a cult meeting.

"Philippe," Ysabeau scolded but had a smile on her face.

"I've been well," Marcus replied.

"You brought a woman home. You never bring anyone home." Philippe commented. Phoebe looked at him in surprise.

"May I ask, are you mentally stable?" His elder uncle, Matthew asked and his wife Diana slapped him on his arm, "What? It's a fair question."

"Very much so," Phoebe replied, a polite smile on her face, "And well, dating a doctor, I can assure you he would notice. Perhaps that's why he doesn't come home that often. Lack of stability amongst certain relatives." She'd not liked Matthew on the few occasions she'd net him in Oxford.

The dinner table was silent, and Baldwin, another uncle leaned back and grinned, "I do like her." Godfrey snorted at his elder brother's looks.

"Well, I'm very proud of Phoebe. I always am. She's brilliant and I'm lucky to know her. I love her" One his aunt's "aww'd"

Ysabeau whispered a 'well done' and winked. Marcus squeezed her hand and all Phoebe could do was look at him in slight shock.

He loved her.

●○●○●○●○●○●

Phoebe sat in the courtyard garden, needing some air. Marcus had said that he loved her. In front of his family. And he seemed to have meant it.

"Phoebe, what are you doing out here?" Ysabeau asked her. Phoebe stood and dusted off her dress,

"Just some air. The wine got to my head." She lied.

"You know, I'm very happy Marcus has someone with who he shares his life." Ysabeau began.

"Madame-"

She held up her hand, "Ysabeau, please. I know the two of you aren't together." Phoebe's face fell.

"We meant no disrespect or to deceive you. Marcus, just wanted his family to stop asking questions and he knew that you liked me-" Phoebe rambled, but the older woman simply held up her hand again.

"I can tell that he loves you and you love him." Ysabeau smiled, "You wouldn't have stayed or even offered to come here if you didn't."

"Is it that obvious?"

"To me. But for Marcus, he doesn't think he's good enough for you."

"He's brilliant. He always has been." Phoebe protested "I'm not- I don't look like the women who marry into this family. It can be a bit alienating. I just want to be his friend if anything." Phoebe admitted.

"Marcus loves you. You are intelligent, accomplished, kind." Ysabeau, "We're old, yes. But we try not to be judgemental. Hugh and Fernando have been happily married for years."

"You didn't like Diana. Marcus told me."

"She's American. Fully. That's an objectionable trait in anyone." Ysabeau defended and Phoebe giggled. She placed her hands over the younger woman's and squeezed comfortingly.

"Take it from an old woman. The men in this family are dense. They always need somebody to point out the obvious. Tell him, so that you will both be happy." Ysabeau smiled.

●○●○●○●○●○●

"Hey, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable at dinner-" Marcus began when Phoebe entered the bedroom.

Phoebe shut him up, by kissing him. Marcus slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, deepening the kiss.

"So you aren't angry with me?" Marcus asked after they pulled away from each other.

"I feel the same way. If you're serious, that is?" Phoebe said nervously.

"I have never been more serious. I'm in love with you and you are way too good for me," Phoebe shook her head.

"That isn't true. You're exactly what I want. Who I've always wanted."

They kissed again happily, interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Ooh, sorry." Ysabeau and Marthe poked their heads in. "We just wanted to see if you wanted some cocoa or coffee?"

Phoebe buried her head in Marcus' chest giggling as he groaned slightly.

"We're fine. Thank you grand-mere, thank you, Marthe."

"You're very welcome." Ysabeau smiled knowingly before the two left, their giggles were audible.

Phoebe and Marcus looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

"She is-" Phoebe began.

"Terrifying?" Marcus suggested.

"Lovely. But also strangely omniscient."

"Welcome to the family.

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures: 17/?

MASTERLIST

Summary: Y/N and Bellamy come across a survivor....and reunite with a familiar face.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, guns, gore

Notes: I am officially off of hiatus!! We will be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon enough, but I really wanted to post this today so enjoy! As always, I’m down to talk about any of it! Based on 2x04 “Many Happy Returns”

***

“Are we gonna talk about it?” Bellamy asked, dropping in next to her, his tone disapproving.

“Talk about what?” Y/N feigned innocence, really not wanting to discuss anything about what happened in the bunker. Bellamy pulled her aside, “You were ready to die for me.” He stated, hand growing tighter around her bicep, intense gaze never leaving her face.

She swallowed nervously, pushing down the butterflies fluttering as she ripped her arm out of his grasp, “Yes, I was.” She confirmed, moving forward so they didn’t fall behind. Bellamy chased after her, not wanting to end the conversation.

“I need to know why.” He pleaded, eyebrows raised, waiting for her answer.

She sighed annoyingly before dropping the bomb, “You’re more important than me.” She stated as if they were discussing the weather instead of their self-worth. “You’re a better leader, a better tracker, and you keep the rest of us grounded.” She began to explain, “You’re older, and have more experience, it’s simple logic.”

This time his grip refused to let up, grasping her wrist and turning her toward him so she could see the desperation hidden in his gaze. “That’s not true.” His voice cracked, throat bobbing up and down as he scanned her face, “The grounders respect you, you’re the best engineer we have--”

“Had” Y/N corrected, her mind wandering toward Sinclair, “The Ark’s down now. There’s plenty more engineers.”

“And you’re a damn good leader.” Bellamy continued to press, refusing to let her believe that her life was worthless. “I may keep the rest of the hundred grounded, but you keep me grounded.” He confessed, breath hitching as they moved closer. “I need you alive.”

Y/N threw her gaze up, sighing at the unfairness of her own words thrown back in her face. “That’s not fair,” She joked, playing with Bellamy’s fingers as they stood on the edge of a clearing, hoping Finn knew what he was doing.

“Are we finally taking a break?”

The couple inhaled sharply as Murphy’s voice interrupted their moment. Just as the two of them were about to answer, Finn cut them off. “No breaks.” The Spacewalker said, eyes still trained on the map, “We have to keep moving.”

Y/N moved forward, “Look,” She pleaded with her former friend, “I know you want to find them, I do too. But we need a minute or we won’t be in good enough shape to rescue our friends.”

Finn finally took his eyes off the makeshift atlas to meet her own, a snarl curled on his face, “No we don’t.” His gaze turned to Bellamy’s, “You heard the grounder, ‘they’ll outlive their usefulness’ we need to keep moving.”

Bellamy stepped in front of the anxious kid, “Y/N’s right,” He told Finn, hand pressed against the other kid’s chest, “Besides, you had a gun to his head, who knows if he was telling the truth.”

She stood there watching the two go at it, trying to find a peaceful way to resolve the tension when she heard it. A slight buzzing in her ear.

“Guys be quiet,” Y/N ordered, training her ear toward the buzzing, trying to discover the direction it was coming in, “Do you hear that?” “Hear what?” Bellamy asked, brows furrowing.

“I think your girlfriend’s gone crazy” Murphy sneered, a glare from Y/N thrown his way.

She followed the buzzing until they broke through the thicket of trees, the road beginning again as they found themselves near the edge of a cliff. But the fear creeping up inside her wasn’t because of the height.

Thousands of Arkers lay before her, the flies picking off what nutrients they could from their decomposing bodies, creating the buzzing that had drawn her here. Their crimson blood splattered against the tan ground, creating a grotesque painting that each delinquent viewed in horror as they moved through the clump of dead bodies.

When they reached the edge of the cliff she held up her hand, telling the rest of them not to go any further.

“Now we know why we never heard from Factory Station.” Bellamy stated numbly, a hint of sadness developing in his voice as the group stared at the debris in front of them.

“Rough landing” Murphy muttered and Y/N glared at the insensitive delinquent, her hand brushing against Bellamy’s arm.

Finn joined them on the edge, “There’s nothing we can do for these people.” The emotionless tone from earlier had returned and despite every bone in her body screaming otherwise, Y/N found herself agreeing with the now murderer.

Their footsteps were cut off by a scream coming from the bottom of the cliff, Bellamy stopping the group again, “Did you hear that?” Something akin to hope returned in his eyes as they peered over the edge, catching sight of a lone figure hanging onto a tree branch jutting out of the cliff, her feet swinging wildly.

There was a survivor.

“Please!” The voice called, female, “Help me!” Sterling joined the leaders at the edge of the cliff, “Mel?” He asked, disbelief written across his face.

“Sterling! Help me please!” Mel called, her voice desperate.

Finn stopped Sterling from grabbing his pack, turning toward Bellamy. “We can’t stop.”

Sterling pushed past Finn and looked back down at Mel.

“This isn’t a grounder Finn,” Y/N pointed out, her voice growing hard, “We have a rope. We can save her.”

“We can save our friends!” Finn countered, the anger coming back to play. “The longer we wait, the less we can save.”

Y/N wanted to scream in frustration, “We don’t know if our friends are still alive!” She finally brought up, knowing it was on everyone’s minds. Finn went silent. “What we do know is that there is someone here who needs our help.”

Finn looked about ready to snap, his lips thinning at her argument. The sound of rocks clattering caused the three of them to swivel around, catching Sterling’s blonde hair disappearing behind the cliff edge.

“Sterling what are you doing?” Bellamy asked, running forward, getting there much too late as Murphy joined the trio at the edge.

“Looks like we’re taking that break after all.”

Bellamy and Y/N shot another glare at Murphy and she watched his eyes widen at the synchronicity of the two leaders before they turned their gaze back to Sterling’s heroics, holding their breaths as he began to creep closer to the ledge that Mel was holding onto.

“I’m almost there!” He shouted up, “Once I have her pull us up!” A sigh came from Murphy and the trio as they released their breaths in relief.

“Well I’d say he’s heard one to many of your motivational speeches,” Murphy joked, relieving some of the tension.

“Shut up Murphy,” Bellamy responded, his eyes never leaving Sterling’s frame.

Y/N’s gaze moved from Sterling to the quivering rope beside her, watching anxiously as it began to shake more until she caught the rock the rope was tied to. The knot flew apart and her eyes grew wide. She jumped on the rope, trying fruitlessly to wrap the edge around her hand, only to watch in horror as it slipped from underneath her, sliding off the cliff and sending Sterling to his death.

His scream rang in her ears, only silenced by a smack as he fell limply against the ground.

Her breathing was ragged, muffled sounds unable to pierce through the cotton like substance in her ears as she replayed Sterling’s screams over and over in her mind, replaying it like the music Marcus used to play.

Suddenly, another scream entered her ears, Mel’s screams.

“We need to figure something else out.” Maria uttered, shaking herself out of her stupor. She owed it to Sterling. She owed it to Mel.

“We’re out of rope.” Finn spoke matter of factly and she knew what he was trying to do.

“So we make a new one” Y/N pushed, sending a small look toward Monroe, the other girl tensing up.

Finn moved closer, invading her space, “We don’t have time. We can come back to her after we save our friends.”

Bellamy exploded. “We don’t know if we could save our friends!” He moved closer to Finn the two men continuing their argument from earlier, “We’ve all thought it. But, Y/N was right, we can save this one girl.”

Finn clenched his jaw, sending a dirty look the engineer’s way before moving closer to Bellamy, “Just because the person you love is safe--”

Bellamy tilted his head, mouth tightening in anger, “I would be very careful with what you say next.”

Monroe stepped in beside the two leaders, “Sterling died to save her, and I’m not leaving until we do.” She spoke, determination hiding whatever grief she was feeling. “How do we do it?”

“We make rope from the wreckage,” Y/N pulled her gaze away from the two silent men, sliding into leader mode, “Seatbelts, wires, anything you can find.”

Murphy and Monroe nodded, the three of them going off to craft a new rope that was going to save Mel’s life. It had to.

***

“I’ll be fine.” Bellamy assured her, pulling tightly on the makeshift rope to make sure it was secure. “You made it.”

Y/N chuckled slightly to break through the unnerving feeling that something was going to go wrong. “You better make it back alive.” She told him, squeezing his hand as she joined the assembly line to lower him down, Murphy and her holding the front of the rope, watching anxiously as Bellamy lowered himself down.

The seatbelts cut through the skin of her palms, the knots in her stomach weighing her down. She hoped it actually added physical weight as well. She didn’t like this one bit, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful was going to happen.

As soon as Mel latched onto Bellamy her prophecy came true.

A buckling sensation sent her lurching forward, the momentum threatening to send her flying off the cliff interrupted by a pair of hands wrapping themselves around her waist, pulling her backward as their feet slid against the rocky cliffside.

“Don’t worry Sparky” Murphy’s strained voice entered her ears, moving his hands from her waist to the rope, “You’ll get your chance to kill me.”

The two of them pulled, Monroe and Finn joining the pair, the four of them trying as hard as possible to keep Bellamy and Mel from falling.

“What the hell happened up there?” Bellamy’s voice rang up from cliffside, and Y/N forced herself to look down, the two Factory station residents swinging helplessly as he tried to find a placement for his foot.

Something buzzed past Y/N’s head and she turned just in time to see an arrow land inches from her.

“Grounders!” She heard Finn yell, “Take cover!” Monroe reached over to grasp her gun, leaning on one knee to protect the trio trying to lift up Bellamy and Mel to safety.

“Everybody pull!” Y/N shouted, having enough faith in Monroe to focus on the task at hand. The seatbelts burned against her palms, and the sweat dripping down her back refused to let up, even as the sun disappeared behind the clouds.

A scream pulled Y/N away from Bellamy as she watched Monroe collapse to the ground, gripping an arrow that had embedded itself deep in her thigh. She released her grip on the rope, grasping the gun in earnest.

“Get back on the rope,” She ordered Monroe, “Now!”

Y/N stood her ground, raising the scope to her eye, recalling Marcus’ lessons.

She pushed another magazine in, locking her eye on the trees above her, bullets striking true as grounders began to fall forward, the arrows slowly dissipating.

Except they weren’t.

Instead it felt as if she was battling an endless hydra. Whenever one fell, two more seemed to be there to greet her in their place. They only had so much ammo, and she knew they were running out soon.

It was only the sound of a foghorn that saved her.

She turned toward the thicket, searching for the familiar yellow orange clouds that could kill them at any second. Instead she found herself locking eyes with a familiar pair of green ones, a wide smile on their savior’s face.

“Octavia?” She breathed.

The two girls collapsed into each other, unable to believe that they were here together. That they had finally found each other.

Their reunion was nothing compared to the relieved one between her and her brother. The siblings refused to pull apart, almost as if they were afraid the other would disappear if they did.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Murphy asked, the atmosphere growing sour as soon as he made any mention of Lincoln.

Octavia froze, and Y/N caught her gaze as she helped tie up Mel’s arm. “He’s gone,” the younger sister replied curtly, tying off Monroe’s leg as she held the arrow up to her vision.

Bellamy moved toward her, a regretful look on his face, “I’m sorry O,” He uttered, unsure about how to comfort his sister.

Pain shot up Y/N’s side as she stood back up, her knee buckling underneath her as Bellamy moved to catch her, setting her down on the same boulder Mel was on moments before.

“I’m fine.” She lied through her teeth, clutching onto her hip.

Bellamy shook his head, a smile reaching his eyes as she continued to deny her own injuries. “God, it’s a good thing we’re both stubborn as hell.” He muttered, untying the fresh bandages to glance at the wound.

The two of them stared in horror at the sight of blood staining the gauze, and a few stitches tugging at the skin, fraying as one popped open.

She almost thought she saw regret cross Murphy’s face.

“We need to get you back to camp.” Bellamy announced, “And don’t even think about trying to argue with me.”

This time it was her turn to smirk, “I wasn’t...dad” She threw in his face, biting her lip to stop her smile from growing any wider. “But you’re going with Finn and Murphy,” She whispered, her smile replaced by something more serious.

“No way,” Bellamy shook his head, not wanting to leave her, “I’m not leaving you alone.”

“You said it yourself,” Y/N inhaled sharply, “Finn’s a loose cannon, so is Murphy, you need to keep an eye on them.”

Bellamy shook his head, refusing to agree with her, “I just got you back, and I promised myself I’d never let you out of my sight again. Especially after you got injured. I’d never forgive myself.”

Silence stood between the two leaders as they examined each other’s faces, gazes locking onto the bottom half of the other’s face. The gap threatening to close.

Her chest constricted as the words ran themselves over and over in her head.

I need you alive.

She nodded her head slightly, turning her gaze toward Murphy before chucking her rifle at him. “Shoot me again, and I’ll kill you” She breathed heavily, a playful look in her eyes as she extended the olive branch between them. Murphy caught the gun, a smirk playing on his lips as he gave her a mock salute, following Finn into the bushes.

“Let’s go home.” She smiled, tilting her head up to meet Octavia and Bellamy’s gaze, the two siblings nodded.

She hoped she did the right thing.

***

DM Taglist (closed): @chloe-skywalker​ @im-a-writer-right​ @clarkewithameme​ @shatteredlovesick​ @your-typical-giggle​ @rhyxn​ @amongthewildthingss​ @furiouspockettoad​ @niammain​ @cxddlyash​ @lena-davina @kaylinfayezink​ @gingerxarmy​ @super-marvel-dale​ @travelnottogoanywherebuttogo​ @nerdbookish​ @valeskasecco @strangerliaa​ @simsvetements​ @molethemollie​ @thebookisbtr​ @im-a-stranger-thing​ @jordangdelacruz​ @oopsiedoopsie23​ @multifandombookstore​ @okj232 @asian-male-enthusiast​ @minigranger​ @jooheonbee​ @libraryoffandomsuniverse​ @pancakefancake​ @weird-pale-blonde-person​

[pynkhues]

So i sent a similar ask to megan because i love peoples thoughts on their own fics and i love snippets soooooo👀 I’m curious what your top five moments in the c&c verse are (which have already happened) and top 5 moments you’re looking forward too?!☺️

Ahhh, thank you! This was such a fun one, haha. It got looooong, so I put it behind a cut! [edit: sorry, the cut doesn’t seem to be working on desktop, but it is on phone? tumblr’s being tumblr! Hopefully it fixes soon?].

Top Five Moments in C&C

1. Annie argues with Beth about the security system in I Could Be Your Welcome. 

This was actually one of the first moments I wrote in the C&C ‘verse. I can’t remember the exact context around me writing it, but I remember being interested in Beth’s lack of self-preservation / tendency to ignore danger, and had been thinking a lot about what that would look like in an actual relationship with Rio. It sort of manifested in the thread of Rio buying this expensive security system throughout I Could Be Your Welcome and becomes a bit symbolic of the fact that Beth hasn’t really unpacked any of the realities at that point on what a relationship with a man like Rio means. 

Beth is such a stubborn character at the best of times, haha, that I knew I wanted her to dig her heels in on it, and I wanted it to culminate in a fight, and I just loved the idea of Annie being the unlikely voice of reason, and how that reason fell out of how much she loves and worries about Beth. 

Here’s my favourite part: 

-

“Yeah, and you need to talk to him about that. But he’s not Dean,” Annie interrupts. “Dean lied for Dean. Dean lied to cover up all the ways he shit the bed, and he shit the bed on like, every level. Comforter, sheets, mattress protector, mattress. Bed frame. Floor underneath. I mean, was there a single inch of your marital bed that wasn’t brown by the end of it all?”

Beth gives Annie a look at that, and Annie laughs to herself, waving soapy arms out and letting the suds drift to the floor.

“With Rio, I think he was - -” and her voice cracks then, her bottom lip wobbling, and she looks briefly away, trying to pull herself together. It takes her a minute to collect herself, to figure out what it is that she wants to say, and when she does, her voice is somehow both raw and firm.

“You’re asking me to be mad that he’s trying to keep you safe, and that’s never going to be something that makes me mad.”

It takes Annie a moment to meet her gaze again, and when she does, her jaw is fixed, even as her lip still wobbles, a tear – blackened with mascara – having stolen down her cheek, catching at the curve of her nose, and - -

And just - -

Dammit.

2. Rio realising why Jane’s upset in Two Hands. 

One of the things I find most fun in writing the early days of the C&C ‘verse, is that Beth and Rio flat out do not communicate still, hahaha, and they really just threw themselves into this family without fully knowing what that meant. 

Two Hands was very much about that, and in particular about the fact that Rio, in the early days of their relationship, treated Beth’s kids ultimately as extensions of Beth. Two Hands for me marks this turning point in the timeline where he started to really think of each of them as their own people, and consciously commits to building individual relationships with each of them. 

Also I love writing Jane, haha. Here’s my fave bit: 

- 

“It’s not always like this,” he says, and Jane looks up at him, and there are too many expressions that pass over her round little face – disbelief and childish frustration until it finally settles on somethin’ else, somethin’ softer, less certain, somethin’ he ain’t seen on her face, at least not somethin’ he’s seen directed at him.  

“You didn’t say bye,” she says finally, her voice small, and Rio exhales, annoyed. 

“I did, darlin’,” because he did. Shit, got to fight about it with Elizabeth and leave Marcus red faced and weepy, made sure of that, but then - -  

He looks at Jane and any self-righteousness dies on his tongue.

“Not to you though, huh?” he says softly, and Jane shuffles back into his arm, presses her forehead into his chest, out of sight, the nozzle of the sippy cup sucked into her mouth like a bottle, keeps herself looking away from him, and Rio exhales. He looks down at his bruised hands, then at her feet, where the booties of her onesie hang limply down the side of the couch, her feet lost somewhere in the legs of the thing, the hood of it hangin’ so far down her face it almost covers her eyes, and he reaches up to tug it back, just enough he can see her.  

“’m sorry. Think maybe I’m still gettin’ used to this,” he says, because he hadn’t said goodbye to any of Elizabeth’s kids. Had trusted her to do it for him, had treated them like they were just a part of her, but - -

They ain’t.

They’re - -

Well.

Fuck.

Jane looks up at him, her eyes a little glassy and just - - he ain’t sure what that is, the feelin’ in his gut, hollowing itself out. “Can you be the first one I say hey to instead?”  

She makes a show of turnin’ it over, her squirming against his chest and drinkin’ that goddamn awful drink he’s made her, but then she nods, and Rio tugs on one of her rabbit ears.  

“Hey, Jane,” he says quietly. “You been good for your mama while I been gone?”  

And she grins a little at that, shakes her head into his chest again, giggling before she can stop herself, and Rio smiles too, but rolls his eyes.  

3. Rio’s non-proposal in Stick to the Rivers 

I’m weirdly into the thought of Dean getting married a million times after he and Beth finally divorce. I think Dean’s just affable and charming and goofy enough to trick women into thinking he’s a good guy, and I kind of love the idea that it results in this string of short-term disaster relationships that parallel to the longterm stability and true partnership Beth finds with Rio in C&C. 

It’s something I’m definitely going to be exploring in future chapters, but it was really fun to start to in Stick to the Rivers, where Dean tells the kids he’s engaged and Beth and Rio are left to deal with the fallout. I also love the idea of Beth and Rio floating concepts with each other as jokes, even when they mean them seriously, haha, which is how this moment happened: 

-

“Thought you ain’t sayin’ nothin’,” Beth says, imitating his voice, and Rio exhales sharply, squinting down at her in that irritated way that he does whenever she imitates him.

“I ain’t,” he says, gritting his teeth, and Beth arches an eyebrow up at him. “But that dumbass ex o��� yours - - ”

“Is getting married,” Beth replies, refocusing her gaze on the ceiling, and at least that’s enough to make Rio be quiet. It was a dirty trick, and she thinks they both know it, but still - - she just didn’t have it in her for Rio to tell her what she already knew, to have to justify (again) her inaction when it came to Dean.

Rio sighs above her, and she can feel him trying to catch her gaze, but she keeps it fixed steadily on the ceiling, briefly wishing for cracks or cobwebs or anything beyond the pristine surface there to distract herself, only something must distract her, because she doesn’t realise Rio’s undressed or even moved at all until he’s nudging her forwards and slipping into the bath behind her. He pulls her gently back against his chest.

“You’re surprised,” she tells him softly, letting her head loll back onto Rio’s shoulder, her eyes slip shut, feeling his hands stroke down her arms, one coming back up to cup her breast.

“Surprised he managed to trick another woman into gettin’ saddled with his ass, sure,” he replies easily, and Beth huffs out a laugh, beyond the point of being offended by anything Rio says about her and Dean’s marriage.

“You wanna beat him down the aisle?”

And just - - what?

Beth’s eyes snap back open, and she spins a little in the water to look at him, and it’s unfair, the mirth in his eyes, but also the - - something. She can’t quite read it, god, still can’t quite ever know him fluently, so she just squints at him.  

4. The whole of Louder Now, Help Me Out 

We’re extremely lucky in this fandom to have so many writers who are genuinely SO funny (including you!!), and I am not one of them, hahaha. I always feel like I tend to be a bit clunky when I try to write jokes, but occasionally I think I pull it off, and the installment where Marcus, Jane and Emma ask Beth about sex is one I’m pretty proud of. It still makes me grin when I read it, haha. 

-

“Miss Elizabeth, do you and my daddy have sex?”

Somewhere inside, Beth can hear Kenny and Danny playing video games, can hear lunch gently simmering in the crockpot, can hear the faintest whir of the washing machine working through its cycle. Which is nice, she thinks blankly, her smile not shifting as she tries to process what Marcus has just said to her. She can’t quite look at Ruby, who even out of the corner of her eye she can see has her mouth hanging open, and she definitely can’t look at Annie, even if she does see her drop heavily back down into her chair (doesn’t even have to know for sure to know that she’s grinning).

Beth clears her throat, softening her gaze.

“Who told you that?” she asks, and beside him, Jane shrugs, a suspicious look on her face.

“Lucas Bircher. He said he saw his daddy naked and he put his penis inside his mommy’s butt and then his daddy told him that that was sex and it was how they made babies.”

“Not if it’s in her butt,” Ruby says quietly, taking a sip of her coffee when Beth spins around to glare at her. She drops her mouth open, planning to tell the kids what, she’s not sure, when Jane continues:

“But then we asked Kenny, and Kenny said growed-ups have sex because it’s fun and that you and Mr Rio do it all the time.”

5. Beth finds Rio with Marcus comes home after a bad job in Friar’s Lantern. 

Angst though is something I think I write well, haha, and particularly crime-y angst. Friar’s Lantern is a story I was really excited to write, particularly in exploring the dynamic between Beth and Marcus, and the history of Rio and Laura. I liked the idea that Rio and Laura care about each other deeply, but that she was never in crime, and that she hit a breaking point with it in a way that made her really demand that Rio hide a part of himself from her. 

In a lot of ways, Friar’s Lantern was about Beth doing the opposite, and demanding that he share himself instead. I wanted to parallel the moment a bit with the dubby too – with parenthood being central to both Beth and Rio’s vulnerabilities and something that has often lead to shifts in their dynamic – so Marcus’ teddy bear formed a really fun device in that sense. Also the image of a bloodied and bruised Rio bringing his son his stuffed animal was just the right sort of angst for me that day, hahaha.

-

His eyebrow split open, blood trickling from the skin there, down his temple. It looks like he’s swiped it back, once, twice, maybe three times, the blood smeared and dried, caking in his hair. There’s a deep bruise at his jaw, a deep, wide cut at his lip, like he was punched by somebody wearing a ring, and Beth’s gaze travels down him, only to have to swallow a gasp at the blood soaking through his shirt.

He watches her watch him, then says:

“Not all of its mine,” like it’s supposed to make her feel any better about it, and she hates that it does, because god, it’s selfish. She doesn’t want any of it to be his. It can all be the other guy’s. She wants it to be. She can’t summon the words to say anything – barely knows what to, and Rio suddenly jerks his head away from her, looking back at Marcus, and Beth exhales a breath she didn’t know she was holding to have his wounds out of sight again, however briefly.

“I won’t be long,” he says, eyes still on Marcus. “Just droppin’ Otis off, yeah?”

And - - what? Beth blinks, steps closer before she can help herself.  

“Where are you going?” she asks, and Rio doesn’t pull his eyes away from Marcus, and Beth just - - stops. A foot or so away from him, and here she can see the blood’s thickest at the arm of his shirt, darkening the navy fabric, and it still looks wet, like maybe it’s still bleeding.

“Got a hotel.”

Beth tears her gaze away from his arm at that, looks up at him, watches him watch Marcus, and god, his jaw is already swelling.

“Why?”

And that’s enough to make him look back at her. Beth wets her lips, feels herself tremble, steps forward again, and when she touches his arm he flinches back like he’s been burned.

Top Five Moments I’m Looking Forward to in C&C

1. Finally writing the housewarming in See You in the Light. There will be drama! Beth will try to run away! Rio might break something! (And we all know how that usually ends, hahaha).

2. Beth and Rio getting married. I never, ever thought I’d write them getting married in any ‘verse, but once I realised the plot for it, it’s been stuck in my head. I have a pretty strong outline for the fic overall, so it’s definitely coming!

3. Another thing I never thought I’d write in this particular fandom was a pregnancy scare fic. I got a lot of C&C prompts for it though, and it’s actually teased out a pretty angsty installment in my head where they do have a scare and it makes them actually have to talk about what that looks like. In it, Beth confirms she doesn’t want anymore children, and Rio reveals that he would’ve liked one with Beth, but that he’d figured that it wasn’t on the cards. It ends up being a pretty bittersweet story where they’re both happy with what they have, but wonder what could’ve been, and what a child who was both of theirs might’ve been like. 

4. On a much lighter note, I’ve had a ‘five things’ fic for ages which is actually just a time-jump fic with Beth and Rio teaching each of the five kids to drive, haha. It’s ridiculous, but hopefully pretty fun. 

5. And there are a lot more too, but to bring this full circle, haha, there is an installment coming where Rio’s away for business, and, um. The security system is actually used. Think Panic Room vibes. 

put “top 5” anything in my ask and i will answer ok go

[xsecretblastsx]

2x02 - Never Been Marcused

Here we are on a new recap, sadly we say good bye to the hamptons on this episode, but it seems fitting considering is the start of fall after all. 

This one of those episodes were I barely remember what happens except for a few scenes here and there from my first watch, so it almost felt like watching a new episode. Anyway here we go.

As usual recap under the cut:

Thoughts I had while watching the episode:

Akward morning after talk between Dan and Serena, not my prefered way for the start of an episode, but what can I do

Well they are kind of cute here, I’ll admit. Though I’m kind of glad Serena’s first instict wasn’t to get back together right there and actually acknoweldging their break up had a lot of reasons behind it.

Blair looks super cute riding that bicycle, so picture perfect. Too bad is only on paper. That Marcus guy is super boring.

Blair can be like “Revenge is so 12 hours ago” but Serena’s is all of us being like “Sure Blair, you totally love Marcus and all of this has nothing to do with Chuck ofc” 

I’m not sure if being refered as “ a perfect post Bass palate cleanser” can be taken as a compliment. And just like magic a wild Bass appears.

I’m just here to enjoy the akward moment every single boyfriend of Blair has to endure whenever they realize that Chuck Bass is going to be a relevant part of said relationship.

“For England” Marcus your nation is surely going to be proud of you for acting like a total englishman and accepting to be civil with Chuck Bass, the guy who just totally manipulated you into inserting himself in your date.

“Blair Waldorf a fling... you’re not exactly low maintenance” Serena speaking words of wisdom.

I guess abstinence (on Serena’s side mostly) was hard for Serena and Dan, otherwise I can’t understand why they’re acting as if keeping their hands to themselves is so difficutl, they never seemed that type of couple in S1.

Blair called him Charles, I guess she was pretty mad. 

That whole sequence of Dan and Serena fooling around on the Jitney is soooo extra, and so unintentionally funny.

Nate’s family drama is never ending, though imagine the tragedy it must be for any UES to lose their money. Auch.

Surprise! Nate’s fling is actually the Duchess.

This whole dialogue: “No offense but don’t you think you’re a little outmached?” “As a guy. Blair wants to be a princess (>.<) and your greatest achievement is owning part of a burlesque club” and the cherry on top “Oh you know is love when you star talking like an assasin” Oh Nate Archibald, I love you. 

Also apparently Chuck did spend tme with Bart from time to time, is kind of hard for me to imagine them playing Squash though.

Chuck keeping noble secrets from Nate. That’s love.

Hi Rufus... and Vanessa

Oh Marcus, giving so much intel to his new “best friend”.Also I kind of like the polo/vest combo Chuck’s wearing there. Weird.

“I have to present myself as crown jewel, sorrounded by other smaller slightly flawed gems, but quality stones nonetheless” this is such Blair thing to say haha.

“If you can’t find common ground wiht a dictator I don’t know who can” The added commentary is really making this episode for me. 

I’ve never related more to Blair than this moment where she express how great it is that Serena’s free from Dan.

I just love when we get to see how much Chuck actually cares about Nate, selling his shares of Victrola is no small deal.

Nate and Vanessa! I still can’t believe how much I don’t mind, and actually kind of like this ship.

I kind of would love to see Anne Archibald doing her shopping at Salvation’s Army.

I love the combination of that suit with that shirt Chuck’s wearing, the color really suits him. I don’t know why but I’m noticing his wardobre much more this time around. Figures. I do remember thinking the first time around he was going to try and seduce the duchess. Now that would have been another akward moment of “Sorry Nate”

Serena looks so pretty here, even if I’m not that fan of her outfil. 

“So she can warn me about the effects of too much botox” auch.  Chuck: 1, Blair: 0. and he’s definately enjoying it.

I so wish Rufus had gone to tour again. He deserved to live that dream to the fullest.

“A lowly Waldorf” wow. Even I was hurt by that. 

I love it when the GG voice oveer points out how ridiculous everything is. Case in point: “Chuck and Blair’s dates are mother and son, and Nate and Blair are exces, and Nate and the mother are in a book club?”

I get why Nate is mad at Chuck for not being upfront about the money, because it’s not easy addmitting that kind of problems in their wordl and even less accepting that kind of help, but Chuck’s intentions were good. Fact is he always helps Nate anyway he can.

The fact that Dan and Serena’s plotline this episode was basically just trying to resist each other, and I can’t help but think that this was the show’s way of trying to make them be more “chair like”, you know intense chemistry and sex appeal. As if.

“if the best version of the situation is I’m going to become Blair’s father in law I think is just time to move on” Now imagine that, thanks to Nate for putting that horrifying thought in my head.

And this is the start of Nate Archibald the gigolo.

“Oh my effing God” same Blair, same. Props to Nate for still acting so rightous and being all like “I don’t have anything to explain to you” 

Blair telling the Duchess how things are going to be now... You go baby Vamp!

“I’m gonna turned it in a novel” so I guess this throway line was the start of “Inside” 

Rufus beyond anything was first a Dad, the Humphrey kids got the best dad in the show, the kind of Dad any of the NJBC would have love to have as a parent, and yet they feel they were the unlucky ones.

That last scene between Chuck and Blair is such a display of chemistry a lot of ships wish they had. and the literal definition of what eye sexing each other means. 

I feel so bad for Nate and Vanessa right now... with the add visual bonus of her sadly blowing the candles for a date that wasn’t. Feeling sad for Vanessa, now that’s new for me.

So this episode while there are moments that I really liked and it did kind of move the plot forward in some points, it also fills a lot like a filler episode and like I don’t really have much to say about it. Maybe because these storylines while I don’t hate them I don’t particularly like them either, in particular this chapter of the Serena and Dan saga this episode feels such a waste of time, they’re basically stalling because they really don’t want to have the difficult conversation of why they broke up and how they can fix their issues, and so to keep avoiding they distract themselves with taming their unrestrained need for sleeping with each other... sorry but what?

I’m not saying there’s no chemistry between Dan and Serena, but their relationship in S1 except for like 1 or two scenes was very much rooted in cutesy moments, tenderness, and how Serena was better with Dan (ugh) and how he wanted for her, not only because she was super hot, they never acted like “oh it’s so hard to keep our hands from each other, and we can’t resist this atraction” that couple were Chuck and Blair, so on this episode I just can’t buy it, it seems forced, almost as if the show wanted them to be more exciting and outrageous... to keep them as the main couple of the show as they were suposed to be, after all at this point of the show while Chuck and Blair were getting more traction, they hadn’t really overtook the show as they eventually did. It also felt part of the “omfg” vibe the show was going for, that scene in the Jitney was so extra, though in my case rather than getting me into them just made me laugh. 

Nate storyline on the other hand is the one that really went places this episodes. It turns out his family is on the brink up bankrupcy because all the legal issues his dad is facing, and because his grandfather won’t help he and his mother are a very precarious situation wich leads Nate to seek help. He tries going to Chuck but on one hand he doesn’t really now how to explaint the situation, and also Chuck’s apparently really busy with scheming his way back to Blair. Except Chuck because he knows Nate is going to refuse him and he can’t help but help him either way sells his shares on Victrola and gives the money to Nate’s mom. Of course when Nate finds out he gets mad, because pride and also because he hates that Chuck lied to him about Victrola and to be fair it hasn’t been that long since they had a big fall out because Chuck wasn’t honest about stuff, so there’s that. Still, I feel I must take a moment to point out how much Nate actually means to Chuck? He loves that club, it’s a place with a lot of sentimental meaning too for a lot of reason and yet Chuck doesn’t hesitate to part with it if meants helping Nate. I know Chuck makes plenty of mistakes and awful things during the show, but these kind of moments are always kind of overlook and I just feel that’s unfair because only focusin on the worst of him, reduces him to this one dimensional villian, and in reality Chuck is one of the most complex characters on this show. These kind of moments are an example of his many layers.

So back to Nate, he ends up going to Vanessa, and I just feel this rewatch is turning me into a Nate and Vanessa shipper. Truth is I never hated this couple, but I was a bit meh to it, in part because Vanessa annoys the hell out of me for the most part, but I always thought she was less annoying with Nate. I like how she just sits and listens to Nate, and I think this is something that his best friends are not always the best at, Chuck tries but he’s more the type of friend that goes into action, he does what is need to do in order help rather than the heart to heart talk, and Nate and Serena’s friendship at this point while getting there, is kind of akward still and also there’s always some crisis going on her life that prevents her for being fully there, and Blair and Nate well.. they weren’t ever the talking type. So Vanessa helps with that, also when the show started Nate wanted in someway to detached himself from the UES and all it’s expectations and so Vannesa was that needed breeze of fresh air, and while she can be as judgy as Dan, I always felt she made more of an effort with Nate to be understanding than Dan ever was with the UES. So I like them, at least for now. Too bad Catherine happens and while Nate was really into the idea of having an affair with her this episode he realizes that’s an awful idea (the fact that she has a step son that’s older than him and is also dating Blair is admiteddly gross) but it’s a desperate time, and she offers him her help... and so we got Nate the gigolo, and that last scene in the taxi when he cancels on Vanessa made me sooo sad.

Lastly we have the Chuck and Blair part of the story, it’s always fun to see them scheming, and Chuck’s tactics these episode are rather sucessful at first and it’s mostly a display of him knowing Blair so well that he’s able to get the upper hand on all of her efforts to get on the Lord and his family good side. I should feel bad for her, in the sense that Chuck’s ruiningin her plans and it’s not fair because if he had showed up to Tuscany everything would be different. And yet I’m kind of glad he gets on her way because truthfully, this is just one of those times that Blair is trying to show herself as something she isnt’ in order to get a guy, and also climb higher in the social hierarchy, and it pains me because at the end of the day is just Blair not accepting herself, like Serena keeps pointing out through all the episode, just show the real Blair sure, she’s anything but low maintainance but there’s a lot of amazing in her that can make her shine to anyone. This plot also reminded me a bit of Blair and the prince storyline and also (because this party was trying to be very pretentious and sofisticated) that saloon thing she did with Dan in Season 5 and just remembering that gives me nightmare. So really not a fan of these particular scenes. In the end she ends up gaining the duchess via blackmail, which I like because I hate the Duchess so I’m all for Blair showing her Queen B side in full display and after this episode I missed it. It’s also the basis of that great moment at the end between her and Chuck in the Van der Bass kitchen, which is easily the most memorable thing in the whole hour and only for that I’m glad this episode exists. The chemistry and sexual tension  of this whole scene is amazing and it puts to shame all the Dan and Serena “can’t keep their hand of each ohter” scenes, this is how is done. Sorry Derena.

Random bits I noticed:

The Pierces song playing in the background at the start of the episode, “Boy in a Rock and Roll Band” always puts me in a good mood for some reason.

That pearl headband Blair’s wearing at the party were so popular here for a while, I loved it so much back then, I sort of wish I had one now.

I loved the “Summer 08″ collage the Humphrey’s had in their loft. It also had this phrase “ I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality... I still believe that we shall overcome” by Dr. Martin Luther King. Kind of relevant isn’t it?

Having and episode ending with a shot of  the NYC skyline at night, while New York, I Love You but You’re Bringing Me Down playing in the background... these are the kind of details I love. 

Ending with a Chuck pick because I really like this suit

[alindakb]

Letters to my Parents - Friday 19 May 1995 - by Alinda

Friday 19 May 1995

Dear mom and dad,

A lot has happened in the last couple of weeks. I don’t know where to begin so I’ll just start at the beginning. I’ve found out what the third and final task for the TriWizard tournament is going to be. I had to go down to the Quidditch field one evening together with the other champions. I met up with Cedric at the Entrance Hall and we walked to the field together. We don’t hang out that much, but we’ve become friends over the last couple of months. He’s the only other student who knows what it feels like to be a champion. And he was a bit taken aback when he heard how hard the second tasks was for me. And a little jealous of the fact that I’ve found the one I would love till the end of my days already. He’s been dating Cho Chang. He says he likes her, but that it would be nice to know if it was going to last.

We were both shocked when we reached the Quidditch pitch. The pitch was no longer smooth and flat but filled with hedges. At that moment still small and easy to step over, but in a month time they will be about twenty feet high, turning into a maze we’ll have to navigate for the third tasks. When I told Draco about the hedges on the Quidditch field he was just as upset as me. I assured him that Mr Bagman assured us that the field will be back to normal after the tasks and that we would be able to play Quidditch on it again. Not that Draco believes this. Adrian and Miles told him it would all be fine, but Draco just keeps shaking his head and complaining about how unbelievable it is that the pitch has been destroyed. Adrian joked that Draco is turning into a real captain, stepping into Marcus footsteps.

But back to the maze. The TriWizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze and whoever gets there first will receive full marks. And of course, the maze will be filled with obstacles, like creatures and spells. Cedric is allowed to go in first, together with me, as we have the most points at this moment. Viktor will follow ten minutes later and finally, Fleur will be allowed to enter. I’ve told Hermione and Draco about the tasks and they’ve made this impressive list of jinxes, curses, spells and charms I should learn to get through the maze. I don’t think I can learn them all in time, but Draco is positive and keeps telling me that he’ll help me and will reward me for every spell I master. And I can say, I love the rewards he gives me late at night when our roommates are asleep.

When we were dismissed, Viktor asked to talk to me and we headed out towards the forest. Viktor didn’t want to be overheard he said and I was fine with that. I wanted to talk to me as I was Hermione’s best friend and he wanted to know what was going on between her and Ron. He said that she talks about him just as much as she talks about me and Draco. I told him that they are dating and was surprised to see that Viktor didn’t like this news. He asked me if I thought he might have a chance with her, that she might leave this redheaded boy for him. I didn’t like to crush Viktor’s hopes, he’s a nice guy, but after all the pining towards each other I’m glad Ron and Hermione are back together and I don’t think Viktor will be able to come between them.

Viktor nodded his head and then changed the subject. He told me that I was a really good flier, that he watched me during the first tasks, and that he would love to fly against me one day. I told him I saw him at the Quidditch World Cup and that I wasn’t near as good as him. He disagreed and we made a deal that after the last tasks we would find time to set up a little Quidditch match with some of his friends and my Quidditch playing friends. Miles and Adrian are all up for it and already started to think who they should put on the team. I think they even approached Fred and George to asks if they would be the beaters.

I thought this was a nice way to end the evening, but all went a bit crazy. Viktor and I heard someone in the forest and when we looked around it turned out that Mr Crouch was staggering through the forest. He looked awful. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face was scratched, and he was unshaven and grey with exhaustion. He was muttering and gesticulating. It looked like he was talking to someone that only he could see. And then he fell to his knees, grabbed my robes and gasped the headmaster's name. He said he needed to see headmaster Dumbledore, that he’d done something stupid. And then he let go of me and started talking to the tree again.

Viktor promised to look after him while I got the headmaster. I ran back to the castle and up the stairs towards the headmaster's office. And just when I reached the stone gargoyle it opened and professor Snape stepped out. He wanted to know what I was doing there and I told him all about how Viktor and I found Mr Crouch in the forest and that he looked mad and wanted to talk to the headmaster. Professor Snape told me to calm down and explain myself clearly. So I took a deep breath and told Snape all about Mr Crouch. And just when Professor Snape said we should get headmaster Dumbledore the gargoyle moved again. The headmaster stepped out and as soon as Professor Snape told him I found Mr Crouch we all set off towards the forest.

When we reached the forest it was all quiet. Professor Snape and headmaster Dumbledore lit up their wands and searched the ground. It didn’t take us long to find Viktor laying on the forest floor. He was knocked out, but the headmaster woke him up with a simple spell. Then he used another spell to call for Hagrid and Snape went to fetch Karkaroff. Karkaroff was angry, he called it treachery and went on and on at Dumbledore about who unfair the tournament was with Hogwarts having two champions and ministry workers attacking the competition. And then spitting at the headmaster’s feet. This pissed of Hagrid, who lifted Karkaroff off the floor and slammed him against a tree. Dumbledore told him to let Karkaroff go and escort me back to the castle, to the dungeons. And lucky for Karkaroff Hagrid listened to the headmaster and let go of him.

Back in the common room, I spend half the night speculating with Draco, Blaise, Greg, Daphne and Millicent about what happened to Mr Crouch and what was wrong with him. Draco said it looked like he was under the imperious curse and was fighting it to warn us about Voldemort. All I know is that we hardly had any sleep that night and that I fell asleep on Draco’s shoulder during History of Magic the next day.

I’d also written a letter to Sirius about it all. He wasn’t very impressed with me, taking off with Viktor in the middle of the night. I had to return him a promise that I won’t go wandering around at night and that I make sure I keep myself safe. He told me again that my name didn’t get into the Goblet of Fire by accident and that the person responsible is on their last chance of attacking me. He told me to go and practice stunning and disarming spells. And maybe some hexes. His message was clear, focus on the third task and forget all the crazy business with Mr Crouch. He told me again to trust Dumbledore and Professor Moody, and asked me please to not break any more school rules and to keep myself safe.

From that moment on Draco, Hermione, Ron and I have been looking up hexes in the library or practising the Stunning Spell. Draco says he doesn’t mind, but I don’t like stunning him all the time. He always falls in the wrong direction and misses the cushions. Ron suggested to kidnap Mrs Norris and stun her. Hermione and Draco both agreed that was just a stupid idea, that we don’t need Filch to come after us for hurting his cat and that Ron could be my test subject for some time. He didn’t last long, complaining his back was killing him from falling onto it.

I felt like things were going back to normal. Well at least as normal as life can be with being a champion in the TriWizard tournament. But of course, I was wrong. It all started in divination. Professor Trelawney had her perfumed fire burning, even though it was a hot day. I cracked a window open to get some fresh air and set down next to Draco. Professor Trelawney dimmed the lights to show us her impressive solar system in a jar and explain something about the position of Mars. I didn’t catch much of it, as the heat and the nice breeze from the window made me doze off. Before I knew it I was flying on an eagle owl, soaring through the clear blue sky towards an old house set high on a hillside.

Inside the house, I ended up in a room with boarded-up windows. There was a chair, a giant snake and that traitor Wormtail. A cold, high-pitched voice spoke to him. Told him he was lucky, that his blunder hadn’t ruined everything. He still got tortured, but I didn’t felt sorry for him. I hate that man. He’s worse than the Dark Lord for betraying the both of you. But I did feel his pain as my scar burned on my forehead. I screamed until I heard Draco’s voice, screaming my voice, telling me to wake up.

The whole class was looking at me and I was glad that Draco pulled me to my feet and dragged me out of the room. He told Ron to go tell Hermione after class that we’re going to see Professor Snape, knowing she would worry if we wouldn’t show up for dinner.

During our walk down to the dungeons, Draco made me repeat my dream. He asked questions about every little detail. Like what kind of owl, how did the house look like, could you identify where it was, did you see the Dark Lord, etcetera. I know Draco worries, and answered all his questions, but all I really wanted to do was forget about the awful dream. It felt like the dream I had during summer and I don’t like that. It was like I was there in the room with Voldemort.

Professor Snape dragged us to the headmaster’s office when Draco told him that I had a dream again that hurt my scar. (it was funny to hear that the password for the headmaster’s office is Cockroach Cluster). When we reached the big oak door we could hear voices on the other side. The headmaster was having a conversation with the minister of Magic and Professor Moody. Snape shook his head and motioned to us to be quiet. It was a bit strange, listening in on a conversation because Professor Snape wanted to eavesdrop.

It turns out that Headmaster Dumbledore thinks that the disappearance of Bertha Jenkins and Mr Crouch are connected. Only the minister doesn’t see it that way. He thinks that Mr Crouch has finally cracked and lost his mind.

We didn’t hear much more, because it turns out that Professor Moody’s magical eye can see through doors, and he warned the room that Professor Snape, Draco and I were standing at the door because we wanted to talk to the headmaster. We entered but were told to wait until they had investigated the grounds. Professor Snape joined them, asking the minister all kinds of questions when they departed. I think he doesn’t trust Professor Moody and is still afraid the man will say terrible things about him.

Draco and I first took some time to talk to Fawkes, the headmaster's phoenix. He is a beautiful creature and we both enjoyed watching him. Draco wished he could have his own phoenix one day. And then all we could do was wait. But our attention was captured by silver light coming from a cabinet that wasn’t closed properly. We opened the cabinet and found a shallow stone basin. Draco told me it was a Pensieve, a device that can hold memories. His father also has one in his office at their home.

The silver light and strange liquid or gas (I’m still not sure what it was, it looked like light made liquid and like wind made solid at the same time) was fascinating. I couldn’t keep my eyes from it, and neither could Draco. We bent over the basin and looked into the liquid. I expected to see the bottom of the basin, but instead, we saw a room. And then my nose toughed the liquid and I was pulled into the room. Draco followed me and we both ended up on a bench next to headmaster Dumbledore. I tried to talk to him, but Draco told me he couldn’t hear me, that we were pulled into a memory and could only observe.

So observe we did. The memory was in a room filled with witches and wizards. In the middle was a chair with chains and everyone was looking at the door in the corner. After some time a man was brought in through the door, accompanied by two Dementors. I shivered and Draco took my hand. He whispered in my ear that they weren’t real, only a part of the memory.

The man we saw was Karkaroff and he was brought in for questioning from Azkaban. Mr Crouch was there and asked him for the names of Death Eaters. Karkaroff mentioned multiple names, but most were already captured or dead. Until he mentioned a wizard working for the Department of Mysteries. But he was still sent back to Azkaban, even after he mentioned professor Snape’s name. But it was agreed that Snape had turned sides in the war and was no longer a Death Eater.

Then we were moved to a differed memory. This one was the trial of Ludo Bagman. He was found guilty for passing information to Lord Voldemort’s supporters. Mr Crouch wanted to send him to Azkaban, but the crowd protested and they brought it to a vote. Nobody voted for imprisonment, they even complimented him on his win with Quidditch. Draco muttered that it was a disgrace, that Mr Bagman got away with his crimes just because he was a famous Quidditch player. I told Draco he could do the same once he became the star player for the English team. But Draco answered that he would never help the Dark Lord and therefore would never need to be acquitted.

The last trial we saw was for four people. When they were brought in Draco told me the woman was his aunt, his mother’s sister. And that one of the men was her husband. They were sentenced for torturing Frank Longbottom and his wife. Draco and I looked at each other and mentioned Neville at the same time. He was raised by his grandmother because of what Draco’s aunt did to his parents. Draco feels bad about this, I know. He says it’s fine, but he started to be kinder to Neville ever since we saw the memory of his aunt’s trail.

There was a boy that was sentenced for the same crime. He begged Mr Crouch to believe he didn’t do it. He called Mr Crouch his father. But this didn’t stop Mr Crouch to sentence him to Azkaban for the rest of his life.

When the boy was being dragged out of the room, Headmaster Dumbledore showed up next to us and told us it was time to return to his office. He pulled us out and we both started to apologise straight away. But the Headmaster only smiled and told us it was fine, that he shouldn’t have left the cabinet open, knowing full well how tempting the light is.

Headmaster Dumbledore told us a bit about the Pensive, but it wasn’t any new information that Draco hadn’t told me already. And then he asked me why Professor Snape had brought us to his office. I told him about the dream, with Wormtail and Voldemort. And that it hurt my scar when Voldemort tortured Wormtail.

Draco asked him if he knew why my scar hurts and he wasn’t happy with the answer. Dumbledore said he had a theory and no more than that. He thinks it’s because of the failed Killing Curse from when I was a baby. Because of my scar, I feel pain when Voldemort is near and when he feels a strong surge of hatred. Draco hates this, he doesn’t want me to be connected to the Dark Lord in any way. He says that one soul biding connection is enough for a person. I told him it’s not the same as our connection. I don’t feel Voldemort all the time, as I feel Draco. This calmed Draco down a little, but he is still upset about it all.

After that, we asked him if he thought that Voldemort was getting stronger. He said he thinks so, as there are more and more strange disappearing, just like the first time he rose to power.

I also asked him why he was so sure back then that Professor Snape had switched sides, but he didn’t want to answer that. He said it was between him and Professor Snape.

That was the end of our conversation and Draco and I left to go get dinner at the great hall. Everyone wanted to know if I was fine, as they all had heard I had fallen down screaming during Divination. I told them all that I was fine and we agreed to meet up later at a private spot to discuss what had happened.

That is about all that has happened. I now need to go and prepare for the third task and try to survive it. If I don’t, Draco has promised to kill me personally. I told him I would already be dead if I don’t survive, but this made no difference to him. He just said he would raise me from the dead with dark magic, just so he could kill me again. I know he doesn’t mean that, that he’s just worried, but I’m glad we can joke about it from time to time.

Love you both,

Harry James Potter

[justlostinautumn]

Playing House 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Clint Barton x OC (Alexandra Knight)

Fury calls in help on a long hall mission that requires Clint to play house with someone he doesn’t know and has never met. Alexandra likes to work alone and isn’t one to play well with others. Nick and Alex have a past together and now Nick is asking his old friend to help out with the monitoring and infiltration of some HYDRA agents. But, not everything is as simple as it seems. Nick isn’t the only old friend Alex has on the team.

I watch as Bucky and Natasha darted into the room, my main focus was on the Pizza in front of me as I moan as I feel the heat of the chilli on my tongue.

“Taste good?” Natasha watches my every move.

“Devine almost as good as you,” I smirk licking my lips, a soft blush colours her cheeks and the team watches this from the doorway.

“Young lady what did I say?” Nick spoke up with his arms crossed.

“You said I couldn’t kiss them, nothing about me talking to them.” I tilt my head back to look at him and I can’t help and smirk at him.

“You really are trouble.” Nick laughed as he walked to sit down on a sofa to watch how this played out.

“It’s no far, look at those lips they are begging to be kissed.” I pouted as I pull Bucky’s face close to mine his lips a breath away from mine and a small whine falls from his lips as I pull away and take a bite out of my pizza.

“Good luck with her.” Marcus slapped Clint on the back.

“Hey!” I spin around and pull my knife out and point it at Marcus.

“Kitten, knife down.” Clint laughs walking up to me taking the knife from my grasp, Nat and Bucky looked shocked at what he just did.

“I’m not wrong,” Marcus smirks at me as I turn back into Clint’s arms tossing him the middle finger over my shoulder as I go back to eating my pizza.

“Thanks for the pizza.” I look up at Clint it was strange someone taking care of me and they are doing it because they want to. I guess it is kind of his job considering we are going to be on a long mission together.

“I think I would be more comfortable knowing more about you. You seem to know all about us, but we know nothing about you.” Steve spoke up.

“Bucky and Nat trust her,” Wanda states, pointing at the two staring at Clint and I sitting there eating.

“That doesn’t mean anything from what I saw she is cut from the same cloth as them.” Tony snarks back.

“You know you can always ask me a question and I will answer it if I want to.” I smile at them as they have this discussion and they all look at me and take a seat. Nick and Marcus smirking at me and Maria, she was shaking her head.

“How much on her avoiding almost all the questions?” Nick asked both Marcus and Maria.

“I think Clint can make her an honest woman.” Maria laughed.

“We thought that about Barnes or maybe even Romanoff… maybe Barnes did keep her honest enough,” Marcus replied and we all looked at them.

“Give me my knife back.” I look at Clint and he laughs shaking his head no.

“Sorry Kitten I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Clint leaned in kissing her temple before picking up another slice of his pizza and taking a bite.

“What was your mission with Nat?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I’m going to ignore you.” I look at Steve who then turned to look at Nick, Marcus and Maria.

“I have to agree with Trouble there. It is something that we don't need to discuss.” Nick nodded in agreement with me and Marcus and Maria gave me a subtle nod in agreement this wasn't a subject to be talking about right now.

“Well, Alexandra here is one of the best at what we all do... but, the only difference is she walks a fine line and is mainly in a very grey area when it comes to who she works for,” Marcus spoke he frowned as he thought carefully about what he said.

“Her list is long and she isn’t one to feel guilty for doing the job. Her determination means that if you get in the way of her completing a mission she has no problem taking you out too.” Nick continued after his brother.

“Stop!” I hated this, it made my skin crawl. “Please, stop.”

“Kitty?” Bucky leaned forward and lifted my face and looked at me in the eye.

“I can’t do this. I don’t do this. I feel my skin crawl and I want to peel it off.” My eyes water, I don’t do well with letting people in and no one knows better than Bucky. He pulls me into his arms and hugs me close and I can hear Clint growl at the fact I was clinging to Bucky.

“Maybe you just open up to Clint and pretend we aren’t here.” Bucky sets her down and I look back up at him and nod turning to Clint slowly and look at him.

“What do you want to know?” I smile softly at him.

“Why not join the Avengers?” Clint asked.

“I’m not a good person. I don’t do good things.” I shrug casually.

“But, you fight for what you believe in?” Clint was confused by my actions and I can’t help but smile and lean forward and place a hand on his cheek and rub his cheek.

“I’m selfish, I fight for what I want and only when I want to. I take jobs that benefit me, I took this job because I knew Nick would owe me for the rest of his life.” I shrug telling half-truths because it was easier.

“It’s not the only reason,” Clint called me out.

“No there are other reasons, but you don't need to know them. This mission also hits close to home considering I was Project Zero.” I wanted this to be over quickly I could feel the intense stares.

“You’re not giving me much Kitten,” Clint smirks at me.

“I can give you whatever you want, you only need to ask the right questions!” I smirk crawling over to him and straddle his lap my hands run up his neck and run through his hair.

“That’s not fair.” His grip on my thigh and hip tightens as he pulls me closer and I smirk at him.

“What’s not fair?” I whisper in his ear running my teeth against his earlobe. 

“You’re distracting me,” Clint whined as he pulled me closer, I know he could feel my smirk against his neck.

“Focus on something else. Focus on your grip on me rather than what I am doing, you’re gonna have to learn to see through the distraction.” I breathe against his neck and I see the hairs on his neck rise.

“Why agree to do this with me, when we both know you walking in with the Winter Soldier would have been better. Dimitri seems to believe that Barnes would follow you to the end of the Earth and you would do the same. He almost seemed disappointed that you didn’t marry him.” Clint spoke, I could hear a hint of jealousy in his voice and I pulled back to look into his storming eyes.

“Because we both would. HYDRA changed a lot of things for me, home was bad... what Dimitri did was worse than what my parents could ever do to me. James was and still very much a lifeline for me, he may not know how much. But what you need to realise he is the reason I am alive right now. Dimitri would kill him and I’m not risking him, I risked too much to get him out.” I stiffened on his lap and I stood up and walked over to the window and looked outside.

“Getting Barnes out was just a job though,” Clint stated, he knew I was holding back and wanted me to admit it.

“No... no, it wasn’t a job. It was a personal mission and vendetta. I got him out for selfish reasons.” She refused to look at anyone.

“Why?” Clint asked, he knew he was pushing too much but the Team needed a reason to trust me.

“Because I’m not worth dying for. When Dimitri realised why I was there and why my parents were so adamant that I was pure and untainted for the Soldier he planned on killing him. Dimitri is insanely jealous and possessive… Dimitri is one of the elites! Created with Captain America’s blood, but not good enough for Project Zero. He doesn’t know it but the serum they gave him made him sterile.” My skin was crawling again and I shook my head.

“You were meant to have my baby?” It was Bucky who spoke and I froze, I had forgotten they were all there. I had forgotten there were still a lot of gaps in his knowledge of the whole HYDRA experience.

“Yep, this was a long time ago. They wanted their new army am who better to produce it than to enhanced individuals who just so happen to be their favourite playthings?” I look at Bucky and I could see a frown forming between his brow and I moved quickly to be in front of him rubbing the crease away.

“Why not tell me?” Bucky’s metal hand clenched and I could hear it whirl in his arm. I ran my hand down his arm to his hand and pried it open, I knew he could feel some sensations so I drew a pattern on his hand to keep him distracted.

“Because it wasn’t important.” I sighed looking up at him from beneath my lashes.

“No! You’re hiding something.” Bucky growled.

“He would have killed you, the less you knew the safer it was for you,” I growled back at him, pulling my hand from his.

“I would have been able to take him,” Bucky shouted.

“No, you wouldn’t have. You forget, I trained with you. I knew every possible outcome of it. I wasn’t going to risk your life, you are all I have. I wasn’t going to let you enter an unfair fight, Dimitri had a plan and he would have made me watch.” I shout and throw my hands over my head.

“What?” Everyone was shocked.

“Is that what you wanted?” I whirl around a point at Clint.

“They need to know you are human,” Clint spoke softly.

“Well, I’m not. I was born a monster! Born and created to be nothing but a monster. I let go of the one person who could’ve possibly been my redemption to have the life he deserved. You want to know why I picked you? It’s because being with you is easy, it’s like I am being reborn and I can finally lay my past to rest. Be the person who I might have been if none of this happened.” I can feel tears of frustration fill my eyes.

I walk over to the bar and pull out the sambuca and three shot glasses, pouring them out and then lighting them. Blowing them out and then slamming them back before getting up and walking out ignoring the calls of my name. I needed a moment away from it all, the questions and the stares. I was over it all, the loss and the pain that came with it I just didn’t like the vulnerability.

“You pushed her too far!” I could hear Nat shouting at Clint.

“I didn’t know that was what she was going to say,” Clint spoke softly.

“Of course you didn’t. I hadn’t told anyone about it ever, the only people that knew I was ever meant to be a breeding machine are Dimitri and the rest are dead.” I shrug as I walk back in the room.

“Kitty, why not tell me?” Bucky was stroking my cheek.

“Because I was scared. I didn’t want kids, all I knew and know is the life I have. Children are a luxury we don’t get... a luxury I don’t get.” I smile up at him weakly.

“You would be an amazing mum.” Bucky smiles kissing my forehead.

“I never said I couldn’t have kids anymore,” I smirk at him kissing his cheek, pulling him in for a quick hug and walking over to Clint.

“I’m sorry.” He looks at me and I watch him carefully.

“No, you’re not. You wanted to know more and that’s what you got.” I take a deep breath. “Nick and Marcus weren’t lying when they said my list is long. Some of the names on that list are partners who had a change of heart, I don’t care if you become a liability you are gone. I was born to do what I do and I have known no other life, I don’t do the warm and fuzzy family thing you guys do.” 

I look around at the room and they all look at them and I look at Marcus and give him a nod.

“Show them the video, Nick.” Marcus stands up and I walk out of the room patting his shoulder as I leave to let them watch the video that includes my training and some of my missions.

“What’s the video?” Steve asked confused, I slipped into the back of the room and leaned against the wall.

“It’s the video that was sent out to all agencies, think of it as a kind of advert.” Marcus laughs.

“Advert?” Peter frowns and I can’t help and smile at his innocence

“Project Zero is and was one of the most coveted assets in the world. Two people in this room have seen her at her full potential in the field, Marcus and I have only ever seen this video.” Nick spoke calmly, I could see he’s tense. He hated that Project Zero exists I know that but he doesn’t hate me… just what happened and how it happened.

“Why hide?” Wanda leaned next to me.

“Because I don’t know how much of this I want to watch… I have never seen the tape.” I looked at her and she looked surprised.

“How?” Wanda was confused.

“They recorded everything, I don’t know what they decided to add,” I spoke softly looking down at my hands.

“Alexandra?” Nick called and I let out a deep breath.

“I thought I should preference this with I was younger when this was released. I knew one thing and that was I’m a monster and I loved it.” I shrug and look at each person and they seem tense.

“What does that mean?” Peter asked.

“It means I enjoyed everything I did. I don’t hesitate, this video was designed to show governments a new threat they could never have and would never be able to beat. It’s funny they all wanted to test my abilities and had me carry out tasks, assassinations, gathering intel, torture and much more. Before you say your government wouldn’t do that, they were one of the first people to contact the Project Zero team.” I gave Steve a cold stare as I can feel him begin to argue with me.

“They wouldn’t.” Steve shook his head in disbelief.

“Fine, instead of that video we will watch the video they gave to HYDRA,” I growled, this would open their eyes.

“What? You haven’t even let us see this.” Nick looked shocked.

“Your Team wants to see me at my worse and I was like a damn puppy in HYDRA compared to when I was in the hands of the Project Zero handlers.” I hissed looking at Nick and he saw the feral look in my eyes and froze.

“You don’t have to.” He spoke calmly.

“Oh, but I do. I have a funny feeling they will hunt me to the ends of the earth or until I snap and break someone's neck. Nick, I may be patient on a good day, but my patience is running thin.” I look at him and he knows that look, it was the look of darkness she had given him before she stopped herself from killing him all those years ago.

“Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender and sat down and everyone watched the discussion happening between the two.

The video started.

“Project Zero training.” A voice I thought I would never hear again filled the room.

I walk into the room in my combat suit and mask on, my eyes empty and in walks a man from the other side.

“Subject 24 has been injected with the Captain America serum, minor changes have been made to make him stronger. Let’s see the effects and if she can defeat him.” The voice spoke again.

The fight lasted minutes, he may have been stronger than me but he was slower. My quick movements had nothing on him and neither did my strength. I kicked his legs behind his knees and he dropped down on them I grabbed his neck looking in the camera and snapped without a second thought.

“Well done Pet.” A shiver runs down my spine at the nickname.

“Subject 25!” A voice called and this one had a metal arm.

“Let’s see how well she holds up a clone of the Winter Soldier.” I could hear the smirk in his voice and I stiffened. 

“She will be fine, we are not sending our daughter into the lion's den without the knowledge she can take them and come home alive.” A female voice spoke up.

“You’re right. Our daughter is a Goddess.” The voice confirmed and I could feel eyes on me as they realised who these people were.

The Soldier punched with his metal hand and I stopped it before he could hit me and my manic laughter filled the room as I twisted his arm behind his back bring my knee to the base of his spin where there was a loud snap and sharp cry from the Soldier I then leaned down grabbed a handful of hair and pulled out a knife and dragged it across his neck dropping his body on the floor, stepping on it as I walked away.

The clip changed to something I never knew they filmed and it was my grandmother teaching me ballet, mask still attached to my face. But instead of my usual combat suit, I was in a deep red leotard with a sheer mid-thigh loose skirt. Twirling around a room.

“Again… faster… again… again.” The sound of my grandmothers voice continuously giving me instructions.

“Good girl.” She kissed my forehead and for a moment there is a flicker of something in my eye but it disappears as fast as it comes.

The other clips consisted of me torturing and killing powerful men and women from governments and criminal groups and families.

“They were your parents?” Bruce looked shocked.

“I thought everyone knew that.” I shrug and look at my nails. “You could kill all of us.” It was Loki who spoke up and everyone looked at the God of Mischief.

“No, I’m sure you’d kill me first Trickster.” I looked at him tilting my head.

“I’m sure you could kill me and my brother.” I look from Loki to Thor who was also nodding in agreement with his brother.

“Kitten?” Clint spoke softly.

“I don’t want to talk about it. This isn’t fun, that was my life. Eat, sleep and breathe the job. I’m not an Avenger because I don’t want to do that again. All you do is eat, train, go on missions and then sleep… let’s not forget the odd party Stark throws.” I sneer at him fed up with their judgement over my choices.

“Kitty it’s okay.” Bucky tried to calm me.

“Is it? This wasn’t my first choice, doing this mission with the Avengers but those two persuaded me.” I pointed at Nick and Marcus.

“It wasn’t just us. You know that.” Marcus warned.

“Okay, so maybe I was curious why you thought we were such a good pair.” I sigh looking at the team, “I’m going to bed.”

I head back to Clint’s and my room and curled under the covers and closed my eyes… I could do this. I could do this. I had to do this.

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 30 - VAN - Never Easy

6-5 OT Loss

It’s never easy with these guys is it? They gave us just enough Thanksgiving hope to make us think this season wasn’t already over. A shockingly weak Atlantic Division was the gravy beside a turkey of early winter belief. Well maybe send a check for it to Josh Allen because I don’t know if our hope is coming from this team or if it’s a biproduct of the football team’s success. Even when it’s close, even when they force it into overtime, this hockey club drags us hard. Tyler Myers gets a two-point night including a go-ahead goal? This game felt like it was being written for us; written in just a way to give us the full range of emotions. We got the former Sabres scoring, we got Marcus Johansson scoring a goal to resurrect himself, we got Victor Olofsson being the hero we knew in October and getting a powerplay goal! We even got an OT winner… that was iced as the football kickers say! It was a drama, a dramatic tragedy. These guys could’ve gotten two points tonight, but they had to settle for one. Hey, at the end of the day the regular season is like a good streaming show. Every episode has its moments and the overarching narratives are what keep you coming back. The Sabres current overarching narrative is a Jack Eichel point streak that has now reached twelve games straight! That’s the longest of his career and accompanied by some pretty stellar gifs out of this one. Speaking of coming back, how about those Canucks jerseys? I got confused at times because at a quick glance they look like the Sabres primary home jerseys. So the Canucks actually wore two throwback jerseys begging the question why the Sabres… nope, okay I’m going to resist the urge to distract from this game. It was actually rather fun if I say so myself.

This team is resistant to making it easy. It’s funny to say that two games removed from demolishing the New Jersey Devils but throughout it’s rare to see a complete performance from these guys. The Sabres went in ebbs and flow for the whole first period but it was more ebbs than flows if you know what I mean. Right after a decent stretch of O-Zone time Jordie Benn the angry leprechaun airmailed a puck into the neutral zone where Josh Leivo managed to out-maneuver his guy and go in on Hutton to draw first blood. The Canucks were dominating in every category except 5 on 5 high danger scoring chances in the first and even that was 50/50. I don’t think I’d want to say the home team could’ve scored even more in the first but it was another less than stellar period for Buffalo. The Jake McCabe – Zach Bogosian pairing was so terrible I’d like to rant about it but that feels like beating a dead horse at this point. I do trust Krueger to rotated Colin Miller back in, I do not however trust Jason Botterill to move the piece necessary to allow him to ice the best D-Core. That debate is a little too tired for a Saturday night though. I’d rather roast those ugly V jersey throwbacks the Canucks wore for warmups. Meh, I’ll save it for the P.S.

The second period wasn’t as bad. It did however start with the visitation of the ghost of Christmases past. Vancouver was buzzing around Hutton when a Tyler Myers move drew Hutton a little further out of his net that you probably want. Antoine Roussel took advantage and put them up 2-0. More on Mr. Myers later. Mere minutes later Johan Larsson had the puck behind Thatcher Demko in the Vancouver net and put out front for a charging Kyle Okposo. Okposo, back surprisingly quickly from another concussion, snuck that one in, 2-1 Canucks. That response felt big and it was only amplified two minutes later when Rasmus Ristolainen got a quick pass from Victor Olofsson on a Vancouver delayed penalty. He launched one of his trademark rockets we might hopefully miss real soon and suddenly the game was tied. This was a very encouraging chain of events after the comeback came too late in Calgary the other night. This time we were treated to some real fun hockey for a little bit: back and forth and wow, isn’t it nice when our team doesn’t suck or rock, they just entertain us?

As soon as that thought was ticking through my head Josh Leivo struck again. It was a neutral zone turnover courtesy of Marco Scandella and this time Elias Pettersson was involved. Once again, there was some comeback in Buffalo and finally a powerplay goal by way of Mr. October Powerplay Victor Olofsson. It was a pretty one-timer too within the last minute of the middle frame. It would be 3-3 going into the third period and the script writing unto this point was interesting, it felt like we were due for something really trash or really nice in the third act. Turns out we got both. On a play that started all the way back in their own zone, Tyler Myers and JT Miller come streaking in on Hutton and Miller gives Myers a gorgeous assist to slam in a real banger, 4-3 Canucks… wait for it… shorthanded! That’s some real trash, friends. Does that feel bad? Well how about another for Antoine Roussel, 5-3, guess whose an all-star now? Make it happen Vancouver, you can vote nine times a day! Now, here’s something to ponder: What if I told you 2014 NHL All-Star Zemgus Girgensons would play into yet another comeback? Funny joke, eh? This is a comedy, but it’s based on a true story like Tag. LOL. Yeah, Girgensons did it at 12:05 of the third period and once again made it a one goal game. Keep it close guys! Hell, you can win it too if you want! Unfortunately this entertainment was not a comedy… if it was it was a dark one. No, this was a tragedy when all was said and done.

The seven remaining minutes of regulation were not without excitement. Pettersson almost scored a true slapper for the ages and the boys wearing blue (not Vancouver because remember, they’re wearing those awful black skate jerseys) kicked into gear for the late equalizer. In the last five minutes or so Buffalo really found their stride forcing the Canucks to only have the option of icing it to get a break. With 58 seconds left Marcus Johansson gets the puck way out at the blueline and rips a shot through the woods and five hole to find the equalizer. Skinner-Johansson-Asplund is a sneaky good line. Weirdly enough Johansson has been the worst part of it lately so hopefully this big goal gets him going again. I’ll be honest I’d feel a little wronged as a Canucks fan. The refs called this game with endless penalties for Vancouver. It was almost like these refs really wanted to see how bad our powerplay is. This one was settled in OT. This overtime period was weird AF. Henri Jokiharju got called for tripping a Canuck and effectively iced a Jack Eichel game winning goal. I’m not saying it was unfair seeing it back again but perhaps the refs felt they had some making up to do. OT Powerplays are cardiac experiences. Jack Hughes almost scored a dozen times before JT Miller scored a high rocket Hutton couldn’t get his glove to. 6-5 OT Loss, the Sabres were in it the whole time and got a point for it but, damn that felt like an opportunity missed. It’s never easy, even when it’s fun.

I think the hockey gods took umbridge with my suggestion the Sabres could get 4 out of 6 points on this trip. Between the embarrassing 45 or so minutes in Calgary and the final result tonight in Vancouver we’ve got two points… and I kinda feel that maybe it for us before the next time we see them at home. Have you seen Conor McDavid lately? Hell, have you seen Leon Draisaitl lately? If the game Buffalo wins on this trip is Edmonton I am going to look like a real clown. If it happens though I will be proudly making balloon animals. Like, comment and share this blog. For us bloggers there are no loser points in engaging our readers. Maybe tonight respond to this post with an emoji describing how this game made you feel. Do a whole a dramatic tragedy with emojis! I’m feeling festive. With tomorrow’s lineup of games for Buffalo teams it will be incredible of we get one win out of our teams this weekend. Let’s Go Buffalo!

Thanks for Reading.

P.S. Okay so the Canucks have never had a good jersey. However the Skate jersey and the flying V are a special kind of tacky. If aliens had to represent visually what popular culture was in the 1980s they could really just show that ugly rag.

[aiwannadrawit]

Time: Friday 25 th

Place: Art Department

Between: Desmond & Anabelle

Plot: Desmond and Belle hang out a bit and Des learns of the issues between the people important to him

There's still so much to do, enough to have Belle's appointment book and day planner overflowing with notes and dates and assignments. She drops both books on one of the tables in the studio, along with a bag full of gigantic hardcover textbooks for the upcoming semester. Rubbing the back of her neck, she flops into a chair beside Desmond to look over his class schedule, more awkward with him now since the fight with Alex but trying her damndest not to take it out on her relationship with her favorite person in the department. "You should take the afternoon life modeling class on Wednesday, I'm doing the modeling again this semester. The professor brings in donuts and keeps a space heater on in winter so it doesn't feel like an ice box. Who do you have for animation?"

Desmond had been feeling pretty good so far. He had his whole thing with Alex and they talked, which was really needed now that he thought about it and now he could focus on other things. Like stuff going on with Belle. He knew she was busy, with the wedding, the kids, and everything else. He couldn't really imagine how she kept her head on straight but he commended her efforts. He scratched at his chin, "I dunno...I do so much life modeling already," he mumbled, mostly to himself as he thought of the countless sketchbooks with people in them. But really...taking it again couldn't hurt. "Uuuuh," he blinked searching his head for a name. "I lost it...but the paper's somewhere in my bag...I dunno."

"Yeah, but not with me. I'm the best." She grinned, tilting her head to beam at him cheekily, then looked back at the papers in front of them. "I'm thinking about the graphic design 101 thing and dropping journalism. Would be nice to be able to do my own marketing instead of subcontracting..." She leaned against him, head tilting to his shoulder. So many things had been changing in her life, it was nice to have something that felt normal. "Someone said they saw you hanging out with...whats his name. Rolan? What's up there?"

"I got you to pose covered in glitter though?" He laughed. He thought about it. "Sounds smart, best to cut out the middle man and all that jazz. Plus...if you really wanted you could always pick journalism back up some time later." He smiled at the relaxed feel of it all tilting his own head slightly to rest it on top of hers. "Hm...don't know any Rolans. Unless you meant Riley. Then nothing really," he grinned, "he's a new friend of mine." He took small moment. "You're okay? With all the planning and stuff? You don't need any help?" He kind of like a jerk for only asking this now, but he felt partially intrusive when she had so much going on. Even though he knew that wasn't really the case in the end.

"That was photography, not drawing," she pointed out, but smiled at the memory. It felt like she's ago now. "Eh, I was only in it for fun and to do the advice column. It ran its course." She tried to picture a Riley in her head, the image clicking with another notable redhead on the school's Instagram radar. He was cute, and available if she remembered right. "New friend with potential?" She nudged his side a little, hoping that the issue with Alex's public displays with another guy and everything that had happened since had finally put him off of the older man. "No, it's fine actually. Easier than I thought it would be, I just stuck some post it's in a magazine and gave them to my planner and Mitchell. All I have to do is show up and look pretty. You're coming, right? For sure?"

Desmond shrugged, he couldn't argue that. "Oh, so you're not gonna be offering up advice anymore? Those were always fun to read." Desmond couldn't help but to roll his eyes. "Potential for what," he asked in feigned ignorance. Though...he was still very much looking forward to his blowjob at some point. He let out a sigh of relief himself. "Whew, glad it's all so simple. I used to watch those wedding reality shows when I was younger. They always kinda looked like a nightmare. And of course I'm coming. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Belle gave him a withering, if affectionate, look. "You know what. Are you seeing him? Or anyone really? Gotta know if you're bringing a date to the wedding," she tacked on as an excuse for her nosy prying. She stood up to stretch out her lower back and walk around the table, sitting on it instead and laying back so that she's looking at him upside down. She finally cut to the chase, even though it wasn't an easy conversation. "Are you still seeing Alex?"

"Oh is that all," he shook his head. "Well no I'm not seeing him... though I did end up blowing him." He mumbled that last part. "And I wasn't planning on bringing a date to the wedding. Except maybe Kuroko's if she's allowed." Desmond looked down at her, an eyebrow raising at her question. "Yeah..." He said slowly almost cautious. "I last spoke to him Tuesday...he's been gone for a bit."

Belle gasped out loud at the admission in false shock, but real delight. "He's cute, good on you." Unfortunately, that apparently didn't mean that things were off between him and the music professor. She couldn't hide the grimace. "Of course you can bring her. Can I ask why? He's not exactly claiming you in public, unless I missed something major. And it's been what, six months? Longer?" There was clear bias and distaste in her voice, she still hadn’t gotten over the argument, what she thought of as the last of several straws.

Desmond smirked, "He is cute." He nodded, glad this was pet friendly affair since he had gotten her a suit and everything. The grimace surprised him. "Almost a year I guess, and...he doesn't have to claim anything. We're not dating." He narrowed his eyes at her tone of voice, the shift in mood making him frown. "What's up you huh?"

"He's not dating anyone, as far as I know, but that doesn't mean he's not out with other people. It just seems...unfair. Especially considering his gripe with you telling me about the two of you. Since he was going to so much effort to keep you a secret but has no problem making out with someone at a public school event." Sighing, she sat up and turned on the table, crossing her legs to sit in front of him. "Not long ago he showed his true colors to me, that's all. He's and trust me when I say I don't use the word lightly, an asshole."

"He was," he took a deep breath. "He was doing that for my benefit. And that---" he waved a hand in relation to the incident, "was dealt with. We talked about it already. He can do whatever he wants and I can do whatever I want." He was being defensive, he knew, but they-- him and Alex-- had a really good and needed conversation. He thought they were in a better place than they had been when he left. "I know he's an asshole," he said, "what he do to you?"

Belle hesitated. Desmond was obviously still defending Alex, and she didn't feel like getting into another fight with someone she considered a friend - but she also wasn't about to lie and say that it was no big deal, when it was. "Aside from sticking his opinions where they didn't belong, being patronizing and implying that Mal and I don't have the kids' best interests at heart, he told me that I'm setting a bad example for them and that my upbringing was bad, apparently because I had a nanny. He made Mal think that the government would take the kids from us if we hired help, if I didn't quit school and work and stay home with them. Here." She leaned over to pull her phone from her bag, finding the conversation with Alex, and the screencaps she'd taken of what he'd told Mal, and handed it over to Desmond. "Full disclosure, I said some harsh things. I meant it."

Desmond read through the whole text conversation twice and then skimmed it a third time. This was...bad. Which, in and of itself, an understatement. But...from what he had read... Desmond sighed and handed her her phone back, sitting back in his seat. Well...he certainly could figure out what had Alex so upset that day. "Really? You'd try to end his career?"

Belle shrugged. "Maybe. It wouldn't be unwarranted, with his behavior lately. Unprofessional doesn't even begin to cover it." She paused, shaking her head. "They're my kids. I'm not going to let anyone put it into Mal's head that someone else will be taken away from him, that he's an unfit father. Marcus is old enough to understand things, if Alex said anything like that around him, implied that we don't care about him, it could kill the trust we're trying to build. So yes, if it came down to losing my family or Alex losing his job, I would."

Desmond didn't know anything about courts or child custody or anything else in that ball park. But Desmond didn't get that vibe from the conversations. At least not so much so that Alex was trying to destroy their family. "Job and career aren't the same thing."

"I could wreck his career or his job, and I would do either if he insulted my family again. I've done worse for less, and I tend to be...mellowed out these days, but I don't take it lightly when someone goes after the people I care about." She held her hand out for her phone. "We did nothing to him and he went on the attack because of how we're choosing to navigate a situation he can't know anything about, but that he decided he was the authority on because, what? He almost had a child? It's not a hypothetical for us, and it's none of his business to insult us over."

Desmond didn't see it as an attack. An unwarranted opinion that didn't go over too well, but not an outright attack. He didn't think throwing out the fact that he didn't have a kid was appropriate though. This whole situation was messy though. He ended up shrugging. "Okay." This certainly turned his mood sour. But he didn't want to start a big scale argument, even if he thought Bell was out of line and overreacting on some accounts. "Well, it's over now, yeah?"

Belle: Belle measured her words carefully - she didn't want to insult Desmond, he wasn't a part of all this. He was, in that he was seeing, if not dating, Alex still but he wasn't the one insulting her or her future husband. "I don't particularly want to be around him anymore. Ambivalence is about the best I can do." She paused, considering. "If he comes at my kids or my parenting style again, I won't be ambivalent anymore. Besides that, yes. I suppose it's over."

Desmond nodded slowly, "Well that's fine." He said; ambivalence wasn't so bad and he was sure with the way the conversation had gone Alex wouldn't be too keen on getting involved again. "So are you banning him from your wedding?"

Belle grimaced at that. The problem was that it wasn't just her wedding, and Mal didn't seem so inclined to burn bridges as she was. "If Mal wants him there, he can come." She shook her head. "I've ignored people with less to distract me. As long as he doesn't throw another fit of snapping at my guests, I don't care."

Desmond frowned at her second grimace of their conversation, but he supposed it was only fair. "I'm sure that won't be an issues," he said simply and then opted for a lighter conversation topic. "Do you wanna see Kuroko's in her suit?"

Belle brightened once the subject changed, though she was significantly less present, more guarded and defensive than before. "Of course! You got a little suit for her? That's amazing, I didn't know they made cat suits. Well...not that kind, anyway."

Desmond smiled, though he could feel the shift in her."Yup, they make all kinds of clothes for cats and the like. I wanted to get her a little flowers to go with it too, but I was worried she would try to eat it or something."

"Send my pictures, I'll make sure she gets some lilacs if they're safe for cats." She glanced at her watch, hopping off the table and gathering up her things. "I have a meeting with the new department head. You'll call me if you need anything?"

"Oooh...lilacs would be great." He nodded and sat back, picketing his phone and sighed. "Okay and yeah I will...you just do the same."

[emblem-333]

Carmelo "Traded" to "Boston"

Occam’s Razor: the principal is interpreted as stating the hypothesis with the fewest assumptions is selected. Carmelo Anthony is a score-first wing. The Boston Celtics do not have a backup option for points when Isaiah is struggling. Unlike Washington, Cleveland and Mother Of All Goliath’s the Golden State Warriors where they have two - sometimes three options, Boston’s lone five foot, nine-point guard is the sole source for offense. This off-season three-and-D wings on the free agent and trade blocks: Jimmy Butler, Paul George, Gordon Hayward, Paul Millsap, Blake Griffin and Carmelo Anthony. Anthony shouldn’t be Ainge’s Plan A or even B and C for that matter. Only other player I’d gladly take Carmelo over on the list of players I’ve just named is Blake Griffin. He may also be the only suitor willing and able to take the risk on the reclamation project. His contract, set to expire in 2019, holds a player-option for 2018-‘19 which he’ll certainly exercise, is pretty palatable. $54,171,900 left on his deal for two seasons, once he’s waived his no-trade clause once he cannot dictate terms of how he wants the team to play, demand coaches be fired, players be shuttled out because no matter where he lands all the leverage will be with the team. Having a history of not getting along with coaches; some instances we shouldn’t blame him for. Others, we definitely should. In the cases of Mike D'Antoni, his handling of “Linsanity” Carmelo instrumented coups with his reluctance to play within a system (not wanting to play the 4), to move the ball (jab steps), and hog the limelight. In the process of ruining his reputation in the last six-years, we’ve outright questioned his interest in winning. Theorized he’s most likely content staying on the tire fire Knicks, retire there and live it up in his mansions. The last two-years, while his talents have declined, his demeanor has risen. Maybe it’s just the berating Phil Jackson seems to give Carmelo on a daily basis, but you can see the changes he’s undergone since the first four years in New York. Embracing Kristaps Porzingis as the team’s future and best player. Carmelo’s handled the constant strain of front-office turmoil with humility and dignity. He’s still that same ball-stopper content with letting the best teammate he’s ever had rot in the corner, that all being said. His best years are behind him. Days as a number one on a contender are behind him too. Let’s take somber gander at his best three-years and most recent two. 2012-14: 21.8 FGA, 45.1%, 5.8 3PA, 39.1%, 7.3 FTA, 84%, 28-7.5-2.9, 24.6 PER, 56.1 TS%, 33.9 USG%, 20.2 WS, 7 VORP, made All-NBA 2nd Team in 2013, finished 3rd to two transcendent all-timers in the MVP vote the same year and won fifty-four games in 2012-13. What’s always troubling is just how unfriendly the advanced metrics are to Carmelo. He’s basically a wing version of Russell Westbrook, minus the insane hunt to pad his rebounding stats and to inflate his assists totals. Both are ball-dominate ball hogs that never made their teammates any better, and you could ague they did the opposite. But for three-years Carmelo sat upon a throne as a respected scorer toiling away in (kinda has himself to blame) mediocrity. In the summer of 2014 the world awaited LeBron’s decision. We eagerly did the same for Carmelo. One team gave him the best chance to go for a ring. Tried to clear up cap space to satisfy his needs. Bulls fans agonized over whether Carmelo was worth giving Taj Gibson up for. Taj Gibson…Taj Gibson. Rumors circulated Jimmy Butler would hit the dirt instead. If that had occurred the Chicago Bulls fans would enter a depression not seen since the 'Great Depression'. Carmelo proved Basketball was yet another business by grabbing one last epic pay-day before he succumbed to injury. In February of 2015 Carmelo did suffer a season ending knee injury. And with it, officially brought the curtain down on his five-year prime. Since his injury, 2015-'17: 18.5 FGA, 43.4%, 5.3 3PA, 35%, 5.3 FTA, 83.1%, 22.1-6.8-3.5, 19.1 PER, 53.3 TS%, 29.4 USG%, 11.1 WS, 3.8 VORP, 62 wins in two-seasons, no All-NBA Teams, two token All-Star nods Dip. Dip. Dip. Dip. I put my hand upon your hip. When I dip you dip we dip. Number 7 with extra DIP. The friendly, Pro-Carmelo side of the story is he’s teammates have always been piss poor. It’s only logical in his advanced age Carmelo is proven unable to drag team’s to 48 wins off sheer will alone. Best point guard he’s ever had been '08-'09 Chauncey Billups whom went AWOL on Melo in the Conference Finals. '09 J.R Smith (ditto). A soon-to-be washed up Kenyon Martin. Chris “Birdman” Anderson, and George Karl as an overrated head coach. Carmelo played 66 games that year, the Nuggets won 54 games off the back of his 44.3%, 37.1 3P%, 22.8-6.8-3.4 stat line. His best Knicks team won the same amount of games with Raymond Felton starting at the one. Washed-up versions of Jason Kidd, Amar'e Stoudemire, Marcus Camby, and head case J.R Smith (disappeared in the Indiana series). Still number seven soared heads and shoulders above posting 44.9%, 37.9 3P%, 28.7-6.9-2.6 almost was enough to get the Knicks to round three. If sought after by Boston, a drastic overhaul in what the Celtics philosophy. Currently they are the good times ship, a bunch of overachievers scraping victories together out of pure will and gumption. Yeah. Say goodbye to that. Jae Crowder, for all his limitations, is the engine to that ship and will need to the Big Apple for the deal to work in not just salary (Boston does not own “expensive” contracts after this summer), but in talent. Before you start shedding tears for Jae, let me tell you he’s been a wonderful Celtic’. Without him keeping Boston’s heads above water post-Rondo trade there is no Isaiah Thomas. A point never that can never be understated. But it is apparent he’s hit a wall in how far his skills can take a contender. Over the course of a grueling season his legs have turned to cement at times on defense, been beyond abysmal from beyond the arc. Another departure is two-way player Avery Bradley, who at times plays like an All-Star, potentially the best two-guard in the East. On other nights he’s…Avery Bradley. A wholesome defender, not to good as a help-defender. Has an inconsistent jump shot and problems staying on the floor. In the first two Isaiah years before Horford, Bradley was the key that started Isaiah Thomas. When he would go on those mini-scoring runs in the first half, it assured the floor would be open for The Little Guy to go to work. In a league where you’re team is only allowed to play one traditional Big at a time, the paint is already as open as it’s ever been in its history. Adding a two-guard like Avery to the mix makes it almost unfair at points. Now before you start to cry for Avery he’ll be an expensive player next summer. Sure to have many suitors able to pay out the ass to have him slip on a uniform. Course all of this is a mute point. Boston was Carmelo's likeliest suitor. Now that the team's in a situation where Ainge would be crazy to take a swing at Carmelo, you can get your life he's never dawning that green jersey. So who are his other potential suitors for a Carmelo trade? (Melo being bought out is a real possibility, which opens up maybe a dozen teams in my opinion.) 1. Chicago 2. Dallas Chicago because it'll be so them to grab Carmelo three-years too late. Paired up with a fossilizing D-Wade and a increasingly annoyed Jimmy Butler. A neutered head coach that was never empowered to begin with. It be perfect! My hypothetical: Rajon Rondo, Robin Lopez and a 2018 1st. Anybody else think Rondo is the ideal point guard to run the triangle? Dallas: Wesley Matthews, J.J Barea. Yeah. That's right I said no pick is necessary. Wesley Matthews is all the Knicks need and should be happy. Dallas wants to funnel one last Dirk playoff run before he rides off into the sunset. There isn't a better available player to do that than Carmelo. The fit of Barnes (pretty good), Melo and Noel in the front court is fascinating and has serious potential. Seth Curry is a starter quality PG. I think the Mavs with Carmelo are 47-game winners. So in short: Carmelo is someone you chase if you don't care about the long term financial impact. An attempt to increase ticket sales, make a playoff run that may end in the second round if you're lucky. Neither of the potential new homes will ever compete for a championship. Carmelo Anthony, thanks to mostly his and the Knicks lack of foresight, and how the chips have fallen is a redundant All-Star on the market. (You can reach me on Twitter @Sailboatstudios)

[brishu]

My Week At Sea - Part 2

Day 5

Several years earlier, one of my closest friends visited Jamaica and came back more disturbed than relaxed. He said the Jamaicans at his resort were so insistent on servility that they left no room for him to relate to them as people. Knowing enough about the Jamaica not enmeshed in the vicious net of tourism, he would have loved to penetrate the hotel workers’ subservience, but nothing he said or did could disrupt their forsaking their own dignity, and he was never going to align himself with the kind of racist, paternalistic assholes who enjoy a dynamic like that. I felt like I had already experienced something similar on the boat with Addy (even though she was Trini) and I was bracing myself for a flow-going day where, for the sake of my family, I settled into the role of passive oppressor as quietly as possible. I understood that all concerns like this were predicated on acknowledgement of the inherent unfairness of American foreign policy, resulting in this dark-skinned person working harder and being smarter than me, but my portion still being much greater than his. And what little he does have is far too dependent on my caprices. I guess this makes me a “snowflake” because, upon confronting poor foreigners, rather than leverage my financial power for maximum enjoyment, I would rather abrogate belief in the Manifest Destiny and deal apologetically with the Jamaican, as though that restores any balance whatsoever.

And maybe for the cruisers who opted for a high tea on a plantation or a day in the life of Bob Marley or 18 holes on Cinnamon Hill, Rastafarian minstrelsy was a welcome aspect of the experience. But again, thanks to the superior research of my wife, we had a fantastic, and perfectly comfortable excursion. Latenya, our guide, and Desmond, our driver, were kind but hardly subservient. In fact, on the bus ride to our first stop, I asked a question about Michael Manley and when my wife said, “Now you’re just showing off,” Latenya chimed in with a confirming, “Mmm hmmm.”

Throughout the ride of about 80 minutes, on the left side of the road with Desmond’s steering wheel on the right, Latenya told us about Jamaica’s history, economy and education system. Jamaica has six National Heroes and one National Heroine. Bob Marley ain’t one of them, Marcus Garvey is. Latenya also invited everyone on the bus to introduce himself in Jamaica patois: “My niem a’Brian. Me come from Brooklyn.”We were a smaller group, with only three other families: one group from Quebec, one from Mexico and one from Rochester. Guess which group asked every Jamaican we met if he knew Usain Bolt.

Again it bears remarking what an excellent job my wife did picking excursions. Ours was a two stop trip. The first was Mystic Mountain, where we rode a sky tram from the bottom to the top, gliding higher and higher, away from road noise and above the tree canopy to the summit.

That is my parents with one of our daughters in the car ahead of ours. To the left is Dolphin Cove Bay. At the top we had the opportunity to ride a self-braking roller coaster modeled after Jamaican bobsleds. I thought it might be some kind of kiddie ride but I was thrillingly wrong.

After the ride, one of the older Quebecois dudes asked me about Brooklyn and mentioned that it seemed to be the epicenter of political activity these days. My father took this to mean the guy was anti-Trump, but, considering Quebec’s reputation for cultural purity, I was more cautious in my replies. He asked me if I thought people were really going to start moving to Canada in droves and I said that I doubted it. I did not ask him his feelings about Trudeau, nor Stephen Harper because I could care less. And there was something opaque about his line of questions, as if he didn’t want me to know whether he was looking for kindred anti-Trumpism, or trying to coax forth the specious arguments of a, well, snowflake. For whatever it’s worth (not much), I think he came away respecting me, as much for avoiding hairtrigger political opinions as for the contrast between our interactions with our kids throughout the day’s adventures and those of the people from Rochester with their little boy. “Look at this Dylan! Look at that Dylan! Hey Dylan! Do you like this? What about this? Dylan! Dylan!” At some point I arrived at the belief that he was neither named after Robert Zimmerman’s stage name, nor his Welsh namesake’s, but rather after Luke Perry’s character on Beverly Hills 90210 and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise.

Our second stop was Konoko Falls. This is us at the bottom:

And we all made it to the top, some of us with a greater sense of accomplishment than others:

Above Konoko Falls was part of an old tea plantation now converted into a nature preserve, replete with caged tropical birds, towering ginger blossoms, two snapping turtles named Pretty and Ugly and the resting place of one of my compatriots whose visit didn’t go so well:

We got jerk chicken and pork with pigeon peas and rice for lunch and Latenya and our Konoko guides ate with us. I thought about complaining to them that the jerk wasn’t spicy enough, because it wasn’t, but then it would be all “Oh look at the white boy eating like an islander!” so I skipped it.

The bus ride back to the pier was fascinating for its foreign mundanities. I’ve noticed that every country seems to have dinstinctly shaped curbs along its roads, and that the grass can be a different species too. This may seem like nothing, but it etches different borders into your field of view, giving you the abiding sense that you really are somewhere else. And then there are the commercial accents that give you some sense of a place’s imperatives:

The silhouetted animals suggest Central Dealers is a great shop for hunters. But what about the explosion behind the bullet? Come on down to Central Dealers and fuck that nice blue sky up real good! Was this the area’s biggest munitions depot, asserting dominance via advertising a la Coca-Cola? Or was it a fledgling endeavour, betting the store on a billboard’s pyrotechnics? Whatever security Central Dealers offered its customers, here’s the sign that’s supposed to assure citizens of their official safety:

Pierside at excursion’s end, Latenya and Desmond bade us all farewell with their hands held out. At the outset of our tour, they had said they would take care of us and hoped we would take care of them. So everybody hunched over, trying to keep their larger bills out of sight, extracting what they felt was appropriate and stashing the rest away to let the money they held represent the pinnacle of generosity. I gave Latenya $20 and Desmond $10 and that seemed acceptable to them. As I got back on the boat, I wondered how long the guilt would have lasted if I had tipped poorly or even not at all. But, deprived of the opportunity to savor that regret, I resumed the grim business of enjoying a high state of privelege as we set sail for Hispaniola.

With two days left, we began to get elegiac. For some, that meant the trajectory of sloth had hit its nadir and it was time to start rousing back to the surface of baseline real world functionality. For others it meant make your memories now before you part ways from all of these other fine folks. For my daughters it meant writing a thank you note to Addy for bringing them cookies one night and a towel gorilla another:

Initially I was touched, but then my older daughter told me she just wanted to let Addy know “how great her service has been.” I was not the first parent, drunk or sober, to have to measure out the proper combination of approval and correction, but somehow I did manage to mask my horror at her blithe superciliousness, and suggest she say, “Thanks for taking such good care of us” instead.

The first time we saw Addy after we’d left the note in the room, she said thank you but I sensed that she actually felt put upon by the gesture, as though it demanded a stronger connection with us than she was comfortable making. It also occurred to me that she was worried we might leave a sweet note in lieu of a healthy tip, which seemed to impel her to convey that our kids’ note didn’t mean very much to her. I tried to signify to her that I totally got her cool reception of the note, but whether she got my wordless message, I really don’t know. The next night after I stuffed the envelope she had left in our room, she greeted me far more warmly. I guess the proper way to hold up my end of this interaction would have been to smile, pat her gently on the shoulder and move on, thus concluding our business together. But I’m afraid what I did, in some tiny way, was needlessly assert some kind of superiority, silently expressing “We coulda been friends but I guess all you care about is money. Oh well.” But of course, I only pulled that shit because I fell into the older and grosser dynamic of the little white snot who can’t get enough of mammy’s loving forebearance. This all happened quickly enough to play it off, as though we’d had a vanilla interaction without wrinkles or subtext, but I felt the gnarls and, no matter how professionally dispassionate Addy might have been, she must have felt it too. But before I took my millisecond plunge into the depths of racism, we went to Haiti.

Day 6

Royal Caribbean has the lease on Labadee, Haiti until 2050. It’s a peninsula they tout as a private island, but Haitians are barred entry by company employees with paramilitary backgrounds reinforced by rolls of razorwire. When ships aren’t in port, the only people there are maintenance crew and the aforementioned mercenaries. When ships do make landfall, a village comes to life. Crowds fill the beaches, giant palapas become cafeterias, trams convey cruisers to various recreations, and rows of stalls are filled with authorized merchants’ authentic Haitian wares. The excursions we booked for the day included one ride on the Dragon’s Tail roller coaster, which, like the previous day’s bobsled ride, was an alpine coaster. I actually liked this one better than the Jamaican one because on the bobsleds, you start at the top, hurdle down through the rainforest and then get hauled back up. The Dragon’s Tail pulls you up first and then you shoot down the tracks, careening through the mountainside forest, curving out over the sky-colored sea, applying the brakes as infrequently as you dare.

As our older daughter and I swooped to the bottom, we could hear her younger sister squealing gleefully from the shuttle behind us. Our ride ended about a minute before my wife’s and hers. My parents also rode, but they were more liberal with their brake application and finished long after we had all dismounted the ride.

Following this, we had tickets to spend an hour in Labadee’s aqua park, which was like a floating inflatable obstacle course. This was a lot less fun. The inflatable slides were very difficult to climb and our daughters were whining about the discomfort of the water. At first I just thought they needed to toughen up, but then my own skin began to crawl. My wife asked the lifeguard on duty and he said the water was teeming with micro-organisms that stung but the pain was only brief. Oh. We did not last the full hour.

Delivered from the duppy-infested cesspool masquerading as tropical amusement, my wife found a more secluded spot on the beach, away from a lot of the noise our boat had brought to the “island.” My parents parked on lounge chairs closer to the pop-up cafeteria and I took the girls to a playground with a sprinkler system not unlike that in the onboard kiddie pool area. I sat on a curb and watched them play with a group of other kids. To the left of them a 6 on 6 beach volleyball game was taking place. Some of the guys’ torsos were right out of the Top Gun scene(Did they lower the nets for the shots of Mav spiking it? I think they lowered the nets). Others were right out of Dollar Night at Molly Brannigans. But interphysique comeraderie was in full effect and all the players were having fun, possibly even more fun than my children were getting spouted on by a fiberglass hippo. I wanted to play. I wanted my kids to make lasting friendships so I could leave them and go make friends of my own. But I could neither dump them on some other unsuspecting parent at the playground, nor did I want to. They were so happy they’d lost track of time. And watching their industry flare up, even for something as trifling as dumping cupfuls of water down seasawing flumes ad nauseum, was its own pleasure, even if I had to miss a few sandy, heartfelt high fives for the marvelous plays I definitely would have made if I’d gotten into the game.

Back on the boat, we gathered for our penultimate dinner together. Something about the semifinality of the it, whether the extra snappy service from our waiter Richard or the table circulating of the executive chef, raised expectations that this meal would be special. So I was actually relieved that even the big night food was so mediocre because, spoiled as I am by my wife’s cooking, I was looking forward to getting back home rather than being sad that this wonderful journey couldn’t last forever.

After dinner my wife took our daughters to a show in the ship’s large theater while I took my parents to the Schooner Bar to play trivia. Seats were scarce so one man holding a whole table invited us to sit with him. He was a very friendly man and his name was Guy, so obviously he was Canadian. Guy was like the mayor of the boat. This was his and is wife Linda’s 13th day at sea and they seemed to know everyone- cruisers, waiters, vendors and officers. I felt assured that, for all of Guy and Linda’s good fortune, tonight was their lucky night because they got to be on my trivia team and few people alive knew more trivia than me. The subject that night was movie themes and just as the game began, Guy and Linda introduced us to Eric and Samantha, a couple from Atlanta. My smugness about my encyclopedic knowledge might have seeped out a bit as I assured all four other adults that they were in good hands on my team. But as the game went on and we got better acquainted, it became apparent that whatever winning ways I embodied were paltry compared to those of Eric and Samantha. A popular subject among cruisers meeting on cruise ships is their cruising history. With neither cockiness nor abashedness, Eric showed me a picture of him, Samantha and several other relatives crowded around Steve Harvey on the set of Family Feud. Then he explained that while on the cruise they had taken with 27 other family members on the steam of their Family Feud winnings, they wandered into a Bingo game and won the cruise they were on with us. So, while I doubted Eric could identify movie themes as quickly or accurately as me, I made sure he saw that I understood that, contrary to initial impressions, me wagon, him star. Though when we did not win (19 out of 20 I could answer within two bars, but I am not ashamed of my unfamiliarity with the soundtrack from Divergent), I took responsibility while still ceding leadership to Eric and Mayor Guy.

Eric told us that his free cruise did not include drinks, so he was probably the soberest of our lot. Guy explained that he had purchased one of the beverage packages and then greased a few waiters with $20 apiece. Now they brought Linda and him whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. I think Guy put away more than I did, so it seemed unwise for my father to try to keep up with him. On the other hand, once the trivia game was over, Guy, Linda, Eric and Samantha insisted that my parents join them at something called The Quest. They actually discouraged me from coming along and warned me that my wife and children should definitely skip it, as whatever The Quest was was decidedly NSFW. But they didn’t know my kids, who were as proud of their grandpa as Guy and Linda were for how game he was:

The Quest was sort of a concentrated scavenger hunt where the entire auditorium was divided by seating area into teams while the cruise director commanded each team to bring him a man in drag, a man with a hairy back, a picture of a woman in front of the White House, etc. I’m still not entirely sure why Guy and my dad were barefoot, but I think Linda wanted them prepared to drop trou. Samantha, Eric, my mother, wife (elbow pictured to my left) kids and I were less competitive about The Quest than my father and his new Canadian bff’s, but no less amused.

By some dubious criteria, a different section was proclaimed the winner of The Quest, but we didn’t care. We had laughed hard and expressed unabashed fondness for folks we just met, and at some point, my wife did a headstand in her seat, which garnered evening-long admiration from our neighbors in the seats. It all felt like the postmodern equivalent of the conga line, a postmodern letting down of the hair and kicking up the postmodern heels. I have no idea what postmodern means, nor any interest in learning. What I do understand is that socially, this was the most fun we’d had all week. We drunkenly struck up new acquaintances and took each other to new heights of enjoyment. I was so glad this had happened and deeply appreciative of Linda, Guy, Samantha and Eric for enfolding us so easily into their little band. As we parted ways, Linda asked for my personal info so she could send me some of the pictures and videos of my father’s antics. In the spirit of the moment I envisioned remaining in touch with our new friends for years to come.

Throughout the cruise I had been missing my brothers and cousins, who had made the family cruises we’d taken 15-20 years ago so much fun. And probably because that evening was really the only time we had been truly sociable with other cruisers, it was at that moment that I started thinking about my grandma and aunt, who were no longer alive. I know that part of what evoked their memories was the surrogacy assumed by my parents, now grandparents themselves, and Guy, with his Canadian Jimmy Buffet avuncularity. But of course, I was also thinking about mortality, and that if my departed relatives could have been on this trip with us, they’d have known from their time on the other side of the grass not to spend one second wallowing or actively seeking despair aboard the world’s second largest ocean liner. So ultimately, their specters were conjured to goad me into maintaining the warmth I felt toward our new friends before relapsing into dyspepticism, to stand vigil over my own happiness until it became more habitual. Weeks later, Linda did email me several pictures and videos from The Quest. And they were nearly all of Guy. I am still wondering whether I should reply with a slideshow of our trip. Or a link to this account…

Day 7

At sea all day. Spiritually too. I think at one point I saw Eric at some distance and found myself retreating the other way. I felt too much pressure to recapture whatever bonhommie we had established the night before. It occurred to me that I’d had a platonic one-night stand. But I also just wanted to be comfortable and relaxed and standing around, maintaining eye contact while chuckling about last night’s zaniness could not compare to finding somewhere to lounge, read and nap.

For the kids’ benefit I rode the zipline, one last time, delivering on a promise I had made weeks earlier, that I would invert myself while zipping, and hang like a bat, a feat I’d performed at summer camp 30+ years earlier, and presumed I still remembered how to do.

I made it about 10 feet before the lifeguard yelled “Don’t go upside down!” and I immediately complied. In retrospect, I doubt they would have thrown me off the boat for disobeying the guy, and even a ban from future zipline use would have been meaningless since the zipline was 10 minutes away from shutting down for the rest of the cruise. Maybe I wanted the younger, world-traveling recreation specialists to think I was cool, and, zipping along 80+ feet above the ground, my version of cool was readily obedient rather than daringly rebellious. So, while I can say I stopped my stunt because the boat made me, a braver man would have held his pose a bit longer.

As we gathered for our final dinner together, nobody else in my family had seemed eager to track down our friends from the night before, opting instead to drink, read and relax free of recent entanglement. And while we did little to reinforce whatever social bonds had been forged during The Quest, I wondered how many lasting friendships had been struck up that week, how many Facebook and Instagram connections made, how many romances burgeoned, or breached. How wide did the spectrum of emotion, from sadness that this magical time was ending to eagerness to get home, stretch? I had been surprised throughout the week by how many people I talked to who owned their own business. Maybe I shouldn’t have been. But I could understand why they would value a week of lethargic gluttony more than somebody whose real life entailed fewer pressures and better food. Just to steer clear of consequential decisions, to be able to screw up without harming anyone, must have been quite a tonic. I didn’t have those worries to leave behind, so I was less likely to embrace the daze.

All week long I had been pressuring myself to blow past whatever gulf there was between my personal inclinations and the style of indulgence that seemed to make my fellow cruisers the happiest. I tried convincing myself that transcendant pleasures were available if I could just ignore my myriad reservations. And even though I felt like the social version of a picky eater, I found plenty onboard to enjoy. I just didn’t have a deeply restorative experience, nor did I need one, nor did I need to care about as little as possible to enjoy being with my family. And I should note that when we left the dining room after dinner that night, the number of faces basking in the glow of devices, sometimes 10 out of 10 people at one table, was staggering. Throughout the cruise I had posted a few pictures on Instagram, but nobody in my family had taken their phone out at dinner. The tv in our room never went on, and the iPad I brought for the kids to watch on the plane stayed in my backpack all week. Surveying the dining room, I felt considerably less guilty for not connecting with more people who seemed to prefer remote electronic relationships to the friends and loved ones right in front of them. I was cautious not to milk too much superiority out of the tableau of ghostlit faces atomizing families’ last night together, but I also felt vindicated and relieved, that by remaining aloof of the vapidity, I really hadn’t missed much. Meanwhile, I knew that while the onboard sense of community had felt robust to some and anemic to others, I was so ready to return to my village of snowflakes that my departure felt like more of an escape than my arrival had.

Day 8

We got off the boat with considerably less fanfare than than we had boarded it. As the massive Port Everglades processing center spit us back out into the world, I wondered whether the feel of unceremonious credential-stripping was intentional, a touch of unpleasantness designed to make you long to return to the company’s care and good graces. Or was it simply the jarring difference between being active paying customers and former paying customers? I don’t know much about branding, but I know that Royal Carribean is a multi-billion dollar corporation and I could intuit that hundreds of suits were working every angle they could think of to open new revenue streams, and then it was another department’s job to integrate these ideas into the unified identity of a bona fide Royal Caribbean product, which was something like island pleasure,  sanitized by Scandinavian experts. Based on their financial performance, these initiatives were well-executed. But held up to the scrutiny whose discouragement I so zealously ignored, the swarm of photographers, dangling of status upgrades, nutritionists of obscure nationalities selling secret fat cures in the spa, licensced gemologists convincing cruisers that this boat was among the world’s finest jewelry shops, delighted welcome vs. slightly disgusted goodbye, felt unified only by the anchor logo and the feel of aggressive upsell. Woe be unto any of these poor bastards who found themselves in Marrakech.

On the bus from Port Everglades back to the Miami airport, I recognized an older Israeli couple I had overheard speaking Hebrew at breakfast one morning. They seemed strangely un-Israeli in that they were A) Befuddled by travel and B) Polite. At the airport a large line formed outside to check bags. My wife went inside and came back telling us the lines were shorter. The Israeli couple asked where we were going and in Hebrew I told them about the smaller lines inside. On our way in, they asked my parents why I spoke Hebrew and they didn’t and, though the answer wasn’t that complicated, I think my parents were just happy to interact with fellow Jews who weren’t from Long Island. And maybe the Israelis were happy to talk with us for our hamishness, though at the moment our most attractive feature seemed to be my ability to explain the various options a typical airport kiosk offered them, and to help them make their choices. In a way, their cluelessness about airplane security gave me great hope for Israel’s current safety situation, but conversely, a grim outlook on Israel’s regional prospects, since her progress in security had not been accompanied by commensurate diplomatic strides.

We had several hours to kill before our flight. My wife’s AmEx platinum card got us into the Miami Airport Centurion Lounge. This was a lavish prospect, and one that I was somewhat reluctant to enjoy because it extended our access to food and drink at a time when I had already shut the door on such perks. My wife’s card granted admission for the four of us and at her insistence, we bought guest passes for my parents. My father almost never lets me treat him to anything, but in this case he did, for which I was glad. And it was nice to have this extra time together, relaxed, needs met, surrounded by traveling Miamians who may or may not have been drug lords.

After nearly three hours passed pleasantly in the lounge, it was time to go to our gates. My parents and daughters exchanged warm goodbyes and then my wife and I covered whatever shortcomings lace through our expressions of gratitude with vague but intentional maneuvers meant to convey that we deserved a great deal of credit for the joy they got from their granddaughters. It could be something as outwardly innocuous as, “Hope y’all had fun with the girls, “ but subtle as it was, I could neither deny the ulterior motive in saying it, nor harness my identification of this shittiness as means of surmounting it.

Our gate was full of crying children, which tested my inner saint. On one hand, I genuinely cared about these kids, and felt confident that I could cheer them up in short order. I often did just that with funny faces or even conversations if the sad kid was close enough that it didn’t seem weird. But on the other hand, I felt helplessly triumphant that my kids were such sanguine travelers, and the attendant feelings of parental superiority were hard to avoid.

We had purchased our tickets with an American Airlines credit card, which I was led to believe accorded us some type of boarding priority. But by the time active military, first class, business class, diamond star medallion, platinum status and American Airlines Advantage Preferred had been invited to traipse planeward across the special carpet, we were one of maybe 10 families left to board. Once again the special feeling extended on point of sale was withdrawn post-purchase.

I had booked the aisle and window on both sides of the same row, knowing it would give us flexibility to offer an aisle or window to whichever middle-seater was willing to switch so we could sit three on one side and one on the other. Instead, we got entangled with a scattered group of elderly Italians and again I felt like an unacknowledged superhero for being able to help another family in their mother tongue. The Italians reunited, our family contiguous across the aisle and a formerly middle-seater on the aisle ahead of us, we were seated comfortably and the plane took off.

On our flight down to Miami, each seat had its own entertainment system. The older plane we rode back to new York was equipped with monitors hanging intermittently from the ceiling, all broadcasting a long-form infomercial for a new show on NBC. Mostly I read or napped, but sometimes I would look up at the screens and watch behind the scenes clips about a show called Emerald City which was set in Oz well before Dorothy’s arrival. Cast members were interviewed in full costume, while special effects experts and producers wore t-shirts and stubble. Even though I couldn’t hear any of it, it was clear they were speaking with great seriousness. But a sublte aspect of their postures betrayed network brass compulsion. The cast included unknown actors plus a few “prestige ones” like Vincent D’Onofrio and Joely Richardson and there was something performative about the passion they exuded, which in some respects I found comforting, since it showed a tiny but perceptible leaking of the awareness that they were all involved in something expensive, derivative (it was clearly meant to be Wizard of Oz meets Game of Thrones) and preposterous. Maybe some of the younger cast extolled the show without irony, just young beef- and cheesecake thrilled by the chance to be on TV. But while the older actors and creative types all seemed engaged in a chaarade, it struck me that the millions of people who might be interested in watching this drek would have to actively ignore the micro-signals emitted by the more aware members of the show’s creative team. And this more effortful form of ignorance, this determination to elude the minefield of buzzkills that spoil superficial entertainment, even at the expense of sensitivity toward loved ones’ feelings, was as prevalent on land (or in the air) as it was at sea. Millions of enormous people geared up to consume, consume, consume, happy to think as little as possible, all while remaining vigilantly unaware of even their lack of awareness that no amount of material plenitude would turn them away from devices and toward the friendly people at the shore at whom they had such a hard time waving.

But what did that say about me, flogging the same distinctions over and over again, careening headlong into the buzzkills, coopting any human foible I could find as an excuse to remain aloof of the fray? Was I afraid of what might happen if my brain just shut up and let me enjoy the festivities too? Yes. I was.

Back home that night, we settled in to watch the Oscars. I imagined a Monday to Monday voyage at sea, where we attended an onboard Oscar party. My musings got specific as I pictured cruisers name-checking the Vanity Fair party as proof of their cinematic sophistication,  and then my own parsing why their citation felt obtuse while my own impassioned takedown of Whiplash signified a superior comprehension of what was good and bad about movies. But why was I still litigating arguments that never even took place out loud? Surely I didn’t think the Quebecois from the Jamaica excursion, or the guys I’d watched a basketball game with one night, or even Linda, Guy, Samantha and Eric were sitting at home now wishing we’d gotten to know each other better. And neither was I. So what the fuck was my problem? Well, I have many. And it’s not a cruise’s job to solve them. If I didn’t fit in on the boat as snugly as other folks, I needn’t see it as a loss, nor justify it philosophically. I’m me, they’re them, and none of them will read this anyway.

[heytheredeann]

Specter family - Of affairs and repressed feelings

Well. I have written an essay some thoughts about the Specter family’s dynamic.

Lily wasn’t a saint during the dinner. 

She brought up their last encounter as if Harvey had been totally in the wrong, but... She didn’t have to bring Bobby to the funeral, knowing that she and her son weren’t on speaking terms because of her affair with him. He’s her partner and she may have wanted his support, alright, but that couldn’t have possibly ended well and not bringing Bobby would have been respectful and common sense. 

That’s why I don’t like that she felt the need to bring it up during the dinner, it was unnecessary. 

She made it sound like she was being magnanimous by accepting him back into her life even though he has been an awful son (which he has been. but because she has been an awful mother first. Children rarely start fights this big with parents, children are programmed to love their parents. If they end up not talking to each other, most likely the parent fucked things up first, betraying the trust of a human being who depended on them for everything.)

Harvey had been gone, but, as he said, he had a reason. He wasn’t the one who started it, and finding out (or even just suspecting) that you can’t trust your own mother is awful, I don’t blame him for cutting off contact with her. Also because it doesn’t look like she ever acknowledged his feelings on the matter? Like. She said she has been trying to apologize for twenty years, but as a matter of fact she may have said “sorry”, but she still acted like Harvey was being a “self-absorbed child”, instead of acknowledging that he had every right to be hurt by what she had done. 

I can understand Bobby being mad (I imagine that she has come home and cried on his shoulder, telling everything from her point of view and surely Bobby agrees with her that Harvey has been overreacting all this time), but ugh it was awful to hear him trying to make Harvey feel guilty for the dinner not working out. It wasn’t his fault alone, she shouldn’t have talked like she was magnanimously welcoming the Prodigal Son back home. 

Marcus... I am not sure about Marcus. I feel for him, because it seems like he has been between Lily and Harvey since forever. I remember him blaming Harvey for their family tearing apart after he told Gordon about the affair, but that’s understandable. What I didn’t like at all was the way in which he guilt-tripped him here. 

He was right in being upset that he had to justify to his kids why they couldn’t see both Grandma and Uncle Harvey for the holidays. That’s a bad position to be put in. But I feel like he should have had a little more empathy for Harvey: it doesn’t look like he has ever done anything other than taking the “stop overreacting, Harvey” ruote. I hate it when people who have been hurt are told to stop being so sensitive and stuff like that. He is hurt. He can’t do much about it, he just is. Lily was in the wrong and everyone seemed to be on her side anyway, I honestly can’t blame Harvey for building a life away from all that.

Harvey has gone away, but I believe that Marcus’ “she’s our mom, stop being mad” speeches and attitude pushed him away too. He felt (...and was) misunderstood in his family.

And seeing things this way, it’s even more unfair of Marcus to blame Harvey for not being there during a sickness... that he didn’t even tell him anything about. Like. Can we think about this for a second?

Last time Marcus got sick, we know thanks to Scottie, Harvey used his tuition money to pay for the treatment. Which would have compromised his law studies, hadn’t Lily given the money to Marcus so that he could pay Harvey back. 

The whole reason why Marcus’ life is good now is that Harvey financed his reastaurant when he appeared out of nowhere and asked for money. 

And Marcus has the nerve to tell this guy that he wasn’t there for him, when all he should have done was asking. Harvey didn’t fight with Lily at Gordon’s funeral (until she brought Bobby, which I still think was pretty insensitive), I am willing to bet that he would have set it all aside for Marcus’ sake as well (maybe it could also have been a good occasion to make peace. Maybe). Marcus choose to not get Harvey involved, and now he is giving him shit for not being involved. 

I get it, what Marcus was trying to say was that he should have been there in the first place and that he may like to picture Lily and Bobby as monsters, by they had been there. Alright.

But my point is, this logic is very unfair, because Harvey couldn’t get over it when no one acknowledged his feelings and everyone kept telling him that he was overreacting, trying to make him feel like he was the only one at fault. 

Harvey said: “I’m so angry. I don’t wanna be angry anymore, but I don’t know how to stop.” Well, it doesn’t surprise me. How are you supposed to work out your issues, to heal your wounds, when your own family doesn’t even acknowledge that you have been seriously hurt in the first place? It’s not surprising that Harvey ended up being so prone to supressing his problems: starting from home, he never really got a chance to work things out, his mother and his brother were too busy telling him that they knew how he was feeling better than he did (it bothers me so much to see someone being like “I am hurt by this, I can’t forgive her” and others being like: “No, you can, you just don’t want to because you are being selfish, you are overreacting, it’s not even that big of a deal, just get over it already”).

That’s why I was really happy with Lily in her last scene. 

She was wary in the beginning, when Harvey approached her, which I can understand (as much as she was the one to make the dinner go downhill with that unneccessary blame-shifting, it’s normal for her to be disappointed that they didn’t make peace), but then... She finally got it. 

“Let me tell you how sorry I am for all the pain that I have caused you.”

“You don’t need to tell me how sorry you are.”

“Yes. I do. Harvey, we both may have played a part in the last 20 years, but I was an adult, and I put you in that position. And not a day goes by that I don’t understand why you hate me. I was your mother. I was supposed to protect you... not scar you. Harvey... I am so sorry.”

F i n a l l y .

She acknowledged that as much as they both played a part in all that, she had been in a position of “power”, she was the adult and she put him in that position. She said that she understood why he was upset. After years of “stop overreacting”, Harvey finally heard her say not only an apology (which doesn’t mean much if followed by words that blame him), but an actual admission of guilt, an actual acknowledgement of how unfair it was that he had been scarred by his own mother.

Now. This. This is how you start to mend a relationship. 

I would have been so mad if no one had acknowledged Harvey’s feelings on the matter and they had just made him apologize for his behaviour and ask to start again, once again repressing his feelings (anger, hurt...). 

Now I just hope that we’ll get more of Marcus, to get a better idea of him and maybe (wishful thinking) to see if he’ll someday try to understand that Harvey wasn’t just being difficult for the sake of tearing the family apart.

[biofunmy]

The Good, the Bad and the Bizarre for the Knicks and the Nets

The Knicks and Nets have had disappointing seasons thus far, punctuated by both teams losing to the Los Angeles Lakers this week.

On some level, this was to be expected. The Knicks seemed to have a poorly constructed roster with too many forwards. The Nets, having traded D’Angelo Russell to make way for Kyrie Irving, were expected to be better than .500 but with lumps, given that this season is a bridge year as the franchise awaits Kevin Durant’s likely return next season. The lumps have, instead, been mountains.

It hasn’t been all bad, though. There have been some rousing wins, great plays and signs of a bright future for each team. At the halfway mark of the season, we give you the good, the bad and the bizarre.

The Knicks

Overview: This might end up being one of the worst seasons in franchise history. Barring some miracle, the Knicks will not make the playoffs, again. The team showed a spark after David Fizdale (4-18) was fired and Mike Miller (8-15) took over as the interim head coach. But most of the young players, like Kevin Knox, Frank Ntilikina and Mitchell Robinson, have not played much better than they did last year. The veterans — Julius Randle, Bobby Portis, Taj Gibson — haven’t fit well together. Dennis Smith Jr. has missed half the season with injuries and has been unproductive when he has made it on the court.

At least R.J. Barrett, even though he has struggled with his shot, looks to have a long career in front of him. He is a strong defender with a knack for hustle plays. But even so, this feels like yet another lost season for the Knicks.

Best Win: Nov. 8 at Dallas, 106-102

The Knicks got their first road win of the year in early November against a surprisingly good Mavericks team. The Knicks also got a strong all-around performance out of Marcus Morris Sr. — 29 points on 22 shots — and they needed all of it, since Luca Doncic scored 38 points for Dallas. It was the first time Kristaps Porzingis had faced his former team as an opponent, and he dropped a line nearly identical to Morris Sr.’s: 28 points on 22 shots.

The win came after blowout losses by 21 (against Sacramento) and 20 (at Detroit) and improved the Knicks’ record to 2-7.

Worst Loss: Dec. 2 at Milwaukee, 132-88

At one point, this game was 0-0, which is about the best thing you can say for the Knicks. They were down 18 at the end of the first quarter and things progressively got worse. At halftime, the Bucks were up 72-45, effectively ending the game with two quarters left, giving Milwaukee its 12th straight win. The Knicks season had already become dreary. The loss put them at 4-17.

Play of the Half-Year: Mitchell Robinson, Dec. 26 at the Nets

Ntilikina drove the right side off a soft pick and roll set by Robinson early in the second quarter. Once Ntilikina got near the basket, he lobbed a pass near the rim that Robinson caught well behind his head and viciously threw down as some Nets defenders ducked for cover. It was the kind of alley oop that very few players can catch, but Robinson is one of them. While he still fouls too often, he has improved slightly this season and remains a reliable shotblocker. No one on the Knicks is more likely to generate highlight-reel plays.

Most Bizarre Moment: Nov. 10, Madison Square Garden

After the Knicks were blown out by the Cleveland Cavaliers, dropping them to 2-8, Steve Mills, the team’s president, and Scott Perry, the general manager, held an impromptu news conference to tell reporters that the Knicks brass was unhappy with the direction of the team. They did not take any responsibility for how that team was constructed, though, aside from Mills’ saying, “We think we collectively have to do a better job of delivering the product on the floor that we said we would do at the start of the season.” Mills said the team still had faith in Fizdale, whom he fired less than a month later.

Bright Spot: Marcus Morris Sr.

Morris Sr. is not a part of the Knicks future. He is a prospective free agent, and while he has said the right things about staying with the Knicks, there are certainly playoff contenders who will want to shell out some cash for his talents.

But he is having the best year of his career and is the team’s most reliable performer. He’s averaging a career high in points (19.1) on a solid 58.3 true shooting percentage. His 3-point percentage is at the core of his efficiency — 45.7 percent — good for third in the N.B.A., behind George Hill and J.J. Redick. He’s shooting better from outside than he is from inside the arc (42.8 percent), but he also is averaging a career high in free-throw attempts per game (4.6). The team’s offensive rating is 106.4 when Morris is playing and 99.9 when he is not. To put that in perspective, 106.4 would place the Knicks 22nd in the league in offense; 99.9 would be dead last by a large margin.

The Nets

Overview: This season was always supposed to be a wash, but the injuries to players like Irving (missed 26 games with a shoulder injury) and Caris LeVert (missed 24 games with a thumb injury) have hampered the team’s development in the short term. Irving has already publicly suggested that the team needs more pieces to contend for a championship. The Nets might not even make the playoffs this year, which would, even for a wash season, be a setback. But unlike the Knicks, the Nets have Durant waiting in the wings. That will always temper whatever happens this season.

Best Win: Nov. 29 vs. Boston, 112-107

Getting a win against a division rival is great. Doing it without your best player is even better. Spencer Dinwiddie put on a show, pouring in 32 points and dishing 11 assists, giving Nets fans early hope that the team could stay afloat without Irving. And they did. They moved above .500 for only the second time all season, after losing to Boston just two days earlier. The Nets would win six of their next nine, before hitting a seven-game losing skid.

Worst Loss: Nov. 2 at Detroit, 113-109

It seems unfair to include any loss without Irving, so I won’t. I’ll pick an early November loss to Detroit because it was a winnable game, and Irving had a triple double (20 points, 11 rebounds and 10 assists). The Nets even had a 13-point second-half lead. This is the kind of loss that haunts you when it comes to seeding or just trying to make the playoffs. The loss dropped the Nets to 2-4. They had no answer for Andre Drummond, who scored 25 points and snatched 20 rebounds. The Nets have more talent than the Pistons, even without Durant. This one should have been a win. (The Oct. 27 loss against the Memphis Grizzlies warrants a special mention, but a heartbreaking loss at the buzzer in overtime against a decent team gets sympathy.)

Play of the Half-Year: Spencer Dinwiddie, Nov. 25 at Cleveland

Dinwiddie hit a midrange pull-up with 1.6 seconds left to win the game for the Nets, 108-106. The Cavaliers are not a good team, but any win without Irving was valuable for the Nets. There are plenty of dazzling ball handing displays from Irving that also merit consideration — but we are partial to game winners.

Most Bizarre Moment: Jan. 15, Philadelphia

After a loss to the Philadelphia 76ers, Irving told reporters that the gap in talent between championship contenders and the Nets was “glaring, in terms of the pieces that we need in order to be at that next level.” He would go on to list several players who he suggested were a part of the championship core. He did not list the whole team, of course, and the quote was seen as a slight to the unnamed.

Of course, Irving was correct. Not all the players on the Nets right now will be part of a championship core. But as a leader, there are some things you just don’t say out loud. What made the comment especially baffling was that it was only Irving’s second game back from his injury — and the Nets had performed better in his absence.

He had a terrible game against the Sixers, shooting 6 of 21 from the field. In a game where the Nets lost by 11 points, the team was outscored by 29 points when Irving was on the floor. In addition, Irving has a history of throwing shots at teammates, particularly in Boston last season. All seems to be fine right now for the Nets, but Irving’s track record suggests that as the losses pile up, there will be more flare-ups. And even the prospect of having his close friend Durant to pass the ball to might not be enough to limit them.

Bright Spot: Spencer Dinwiddie

Dinwiddie carried the Nets while Irving and LeVert were injured. He led the team in scoring in 21 of the 26 contests that Irving missed. In those games, Dinwiddie scored at least 30 points six times. He was the offense for a team that lacked playmakers once Irving went down. If the Nets make the playoffs, the 13-13 stretch without Irving will have been crucial to get there. During that time, with Dinwiddie on the court, the Nets had a 112.6 offensive rating. This would be good for one of the best offenses in the N.B.A., extrapolated over a full season. When Dinwiddie was off the floor, the Nets were at 89.9 during this period — which would easily be last in the league.

Sahred From Source link Sports

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[pynkhues]

Fluff/angst prompt for Brio: ANY of these would be amazing but how about .....63, 77, 81!!!

#63 “What are you doing this weekend?” / #81 “Here’s my number, call me sometime.” (technically these are said before this ficlet starts, haha)

Set in The Centre and Circumference / Domestic Fic universe

The surprise she feels when he doesn’t bring it up on the drive home only doubles when they get through dinner (spinach and ricotta gnocchi – something quick and easy – they hadn’t left the school until after five anyway, and gotten stuck in post-work traffic) without so much of a mention of it. By the time she’s tucking the kids into bed, she’s starting to think maybe she’s been unfair to him. They’re in a good place, she reminds herself, feeling a warm contentment uncurl in her chest at the thought as she leans down to kiss Emma goodnight. On the same wavelength, she thinks, and if he’s not bringing it up, he must feel it too.

She’s still thinking it as they stand beside each other at the sink of their en suite, Rio shaving and tidying up his beard, while Beth brushes her teeth, her eyes looking at him in the mirror, taking in the long line of his neck while he shaves, and god, she doesn’t think she’s ever wanted to bite it more.

She spits out her mouthful of toothpaste, rinsing the brush and then her mouth before turning sideways to face him, pushing her hip into the basin as she bites her lip, looks up at him through her lashes. Reaching over, she hooks a finger in the belt loop of his jeans, rocking sideways and Rio looks down at her lazily, lowering his razor down to the sink and splashing some water on his face to wash off the last of his shaving cream.  

“You ready for bed, mami?” he asks, voice raspy, and Beth grins, sidling a little closer to him.

“The kids are asleep,” she says, holding onto his belt loop a little tighter. She’s still not very good at this part – at touching him first, but she thinks maybe he doesn’t mind so much, seems so responsive to everything she does, and even now he tilts his hips towards her.

“Yeah?” he purrs, leaning over to push some of her hair, still damp from her shower, back behind her ear, and Beth is just starting to rise up on her tiptoes when he adds, “Don’t want to give your new friend a call first?”

Just like that, she tears her hand off his jeans, raising it instead to point a finger up at him, something hot and weirdly pleased snapping in her belly. She really does love the thought of them being on the same wavelength, but she also really, really loves being right.

“I knew it,” she says. “I knew you weren’t going to be able to let it go.”

She pushes his hand away from her face, sinking back onto her feet and storming back into the bedroom.

Between the two of them, Dean, and Marcus’ mother, Laura, it had taken them a frustratingly long time to settle on a new school for the kids. She doesn’t think it had helped that they’d had the time after all, with both the kids’ old schools letting them stay until the end of the year, meaning they hadn’t really had to settle on a place until the holidays. A school holidays that had formed what Annie had taken to calling ‘The Unholy Union’ and everyone else ‘The Terrible Twosome’ in Jane and Marcus.

And hadn’t that started enough arguments in itself? Rio hasn’t exactly made any illusions over the fact that he holds Jane (and by proxy, Beth) personally responsible for the sudden nosedive in Marcus’ behaviour, but the thing was, it was kind of the both of them. Separately, they were capable of being as angelic as ever, but as soon as they were left alone together, Beth was washing about five different types of Annie’s glitter eyeshadow out of Buddy’s fur (and how had they even gotten hold of that?), and Rio was furiously trying to melt the glue holding his (very expensive) watch to the dining room chair leg (apparently they’d made it the clocktower in a particularly elaborate city they’d made for Jane’s stuffed animals and Marcus’ action figures).

It meant that, more than anything, Beth kind of felt bad for Mr. Nichols, the very sweet, very young second grade teacher who must’ve been some sort of evildoer in a past life to end up with both Jane and Marcus in his class. And so what, if maybe she’d hit a nice stride with the guy? It certainly made going in because Jane and Marcus had decided to paint their own mural on one of the bathroom walls or hidden a grasshopper in another boy’s backpack, a lot easier.

“He gave you his number,” Rio says, like it’s that simple, and Beth rolls her eyes.

“In case I wanted to talk to him about anything. Remember how Marcus and Jane, our children, are terrorising his class?”

Rio gives her a look at that, and Beth rolls her eyes, folding back the covers on the bed, smoothing down the sheets before she clambers in.

“So what you’re sayin’ is if it’s just me next time, he’s gonna be askin’ ‘bout my weekend and punchin’ my number into his cell too?”

“Maybe if you were a little friendlier,” she says, and Rio laughs, but it’s not a particularly amused one.

“Don’t play it like that, he wants to fuck you and you know it.”

“Oh my god,” Beth says, throwing up her hands. “You were right there! He knows I’m not available. If anything, I think he just thinks we’re bad parents, and he probably figures that I might be more open to his advice than the angry, tattooed guy sitting next to me who spends the meetings thinking up unusual and specific punishments for our kids instead of, you know, talking to the teacher about their behaviour.”

Rio scoffs at that, like he hadn’t responded to the backpack grasshopper incident by making the two of them catch every single one chewing its way through Beth’s herb garden. It had taken them well over an hour, and they’d both been teary and tired by the end of it (but also apologetic, and Beth can’t say it hadn’t been nice to have the bugs gone).  

“Besides, what does it matter if he does?” Beth says, gesturing widely around them, and Rio rocks his jaw, but doesn’t reply. Instead, he pulls off his shirt, heading to the corner to toss it into the laundry basket. “It’s not like I want to - - y’know, go there with him.”

And she looks at Rio then, at the line of his toned body as he shoves off his jeans, irritation making him flex unconsciously, the muscles in his back shifting, and Beth can’t help but bite her lip. She blushes a little, tries to shake it from her face and then, before she can think anything else of it, adds:

“That’s what I keep you around for.”

He does look at her at that, still bent over, stepping out of his jeans and pulling off his socks, until he’s just in his underwear when he stands back up.

“Oh, is that right?”

“Well, you did get me this bed too,” Beth says, a little blissfully, letting her eyes slip shut as she falls down into her pillows, making Rio snort, and she feels more than sees the mattress dip beneath his weight, the heat radiating off his body as he crawls up over her. She blinks her eyes back open, looking up at him, and her heart almost stops at the way he’s looking down at her, his face soft and open, his eyes dark, and she exhales, her hand coming up to trace the newly shaved line of his beard.

“You were jealous,” she tells him softly, and he shakes his head.

“Nah, he ain’t got nothin’.”

Beth laughs a little breathlessly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at how easily he can rewrite the last few hours, just keeps trailing her fingers across his jaw instead, thumb flicking over where his beard ends halfway down his neck, just above the bump of his Adam’s apple, and then she touches that too.

“You’ve got something,” she tells him, and he hums in agreement, lowering his head to kiss her.

(Stay tuned for Part 3 of The Center and Circumference for a lot more of the Terrible Twosome: Jane and Marcus) 

#77 “What happened last night?”

Someone else requested this one too, so expect that one soon! :-)