#MY WIFE IS LOVED BY CORPORATION /j

[sekaithemystic]

GOG DOT COM TWEETING MEME ABOUT SO MI???????

[beaumars]

In The Night - Prologue - J. Seresin

WOAH! We made it! The brainchild that contains so much love for the TGM fandom is finally here!! I'm so excited for you guys to meet my OC and join her journey in this universe.

DISCLAIMERS: While I want to be as accurate as possible, I also took some artistic liberties regarding the military, so if something throws you off, that's me and my little imagination at work. THIS WILL BE THE SLOWEST OF BURNS! It may seem fast-paced in the next chapter, but I swear I just want to build a relationship based on friendship and trust between Jake and Sloane.

CONTENT WARNINGS: This chapter talks about grief, minor character death, separation, and children going through shit at an early age.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

THIS IS -- FOR THE MOST PART -- NOT PROOFREAD.

***

0. PROLOGUE

“You think Bowie will like this, mom?”

The older woman looked away from the tree she was decorating to smile at her daughter who held up a handmade Christmas card filled with glitter and tinsel, her hands sticky from the overuse of bottled glue. 

“I think he will, what do you think Beau?” She turned to say to her husband. The tall and stoic man sat on his recliner reading a book and looked up briefly, his wife nudging her gaze over to the little eleven-year-old girl. His eyes went towards his little girl, a small twitch in his lips at the craft in her hands.

“He will, Sloane.” 

The little girl looked down at her feet. She whispered a thanks and ran off to her room. Beau Simpson went back to his book until he heard a small cough. He looked up once again and saw  his wife with her arms crossed. 

“What?”

“What do you mean what, Beau? You could be a little more enthusiastic,” she whispered to him.

“I told her he would like it, what more is there to say?”

Marine Corps Colonel Reina Sanchez huffed and squared her shoulders, “he’s coming back in a week, Beau. Is this what the entirety of his leave – of our leave is going to look like? I mean– the boy barely comes home for holidays anymore! We can't coordinate anything and the one year he decides to come home to be with his family you get like this.”

Commodore Beau Simpson let out a heavy sigh as he put his book down on the coffee table in front of him and stood up to his full height. As he was about to open his mouth he saw a little head peeking out from the corner of the hallway, Reina followed his line of sight and her shoulders sagged and her arms dropped to her sides.

“Come on out, Sloane,” Beau commanded. The little girl timidly stepped out from her hiding spot as the older man waved her over to his side. Once she reached him, he crouched down to her height and put his hands on her shoulders, “I think Bowie is going to absolutely love your Christmas card.”

Her eyes lit up like the lights on the tree behind her, “you really think so, daddy?”

“Absolutely–” Beau and Reina looked at each other as the doorbell rang. Surely their son wasn’t planning on surprising them early. 

They wouldn’t get the chance to dwell hard on the probability as Sloane ran towards the door shouting her brother’s name, her parents trailing behind her. Beau would never admit but his heart jumped at the thought of seeing his son earlier than expected.

Sloane reached the door and practically ripped it off the hinges trying to open it, just to be disappointed to see it wasnt Bowie. Instead, two men were dressed in the fancy uniforms she recognized when her brother graduated from Marine Corps boot camp, “you’re not Bowie…”

Sloane felt a heavy hand on her shoulder and she looked up at her father’s face, stone cold. 

“Commander Simpson? Colonel Sanchez?” asked the older of the two men. 

With a shaky breath Reina responded, “that would be us.”

The younger man made eye contact with Sloane and let out a watery smile as his companion spoke, “I’m Gunnery Sergeant James Reeves, on behalf of the United States Marine Corps, we regret to inform you that your son, Corporal Beau Simpson Junior, was killed in action during his deploy-”

Sloane couldn’t hear anything else as her father’s hand on her shoulder became uncomfortably tight. So tight, in fact, he would have left bruises if Sloane hadn’t whispered, “daddy, you're hurting me…”

Beau looked down at the little girl with tears in her eyes, he immediately let go and tensed his hand as he turned back to the pair of men. The younger man spoke up, “I’m Sergeant Thomas Pierce, sir. I was your son’s friend…”

Behind her, Sloane heard her mother begin to sob, “my baby! Not my baby boy! Please!” 

Beau turned to catch his wife before she could fall to the floor. He turned his head to face the two men and that was all they needed to turn and leave. Sloane was staring at the men leaving when the young Sergeant turned back and briskly walked back and kneeled in front of Sloane. He pulled out a small trinket from his midnight coat and held his hand out for the girl. Thomas grabbed one of her hands with both of his gloved ones and enclosed the small object between their hands, “your brother wanted to give this to you for Christmas. He talked a lot about you. I had hoped we would meet under better circumstances, kid.”

Sloane looked down at her hands to inspect the cold piece of metal, “it’s called an E-G-A; an eagle, globe, and anchor. He got it after his crucible. He said you would like it.”

Sloane traced the bird at the top of the stack, “i love it…”

Thomas got up and walked away, his footsteps blending in with her mother’ sobs, her father’s attempts to calm her, and her own small beating heart. 

– – – 

“You look pretty, mom.”

Reina looked down at Sloane as she adjusted the ribbons on her blues. With a watery smile she moves her hand to stroke her daughter’s face, “you look prettier, baby.”

“Thanks,” Sloane sniffled. 

Reina uses the hand she stroked Sloane’s face and places it gently behind the girl’s head to pull her into an embrace, “He was supposed to come home today.”

Sobs racked the girl’s body and Reina couldn’t help but shed a quick tear before holding on tighter to her child. Beau walks into the embrace and places his hand gently on Sloane’s head, a common act since the day. 

“If you think about it this way, he is back with us, he’s just gonna rest for a while,” Beau reasoned. But what does reasoning matter to a little girl whose emotions were as big and complicated as grief? 

“But I want him awake, dad!–”

“We all want him to be awake, Sloane–”

“You’re lying! That’s why you always fought with Bowie!—”

Reina attempted to butt in,“Sloane, honey. Listen to your dad–” 

But the girl was showing the infamous stubborn trait that carries in every generation of a Simpson, “It’s the truth!”

“Watch your tone, young lady,” he warned as the two of them engaged in a face-off, who would break first? The grieving father with unresolved feelings about his son or the grieving sister who would lose out on her built-in mentor for the rest of her life?

Sloane challenged her father, “or what dad?”

“That’s Commander to you.”

A silence befell the newly established family of three.

“Beau…” Reina whispered. 

Beau Simpson exhaled and shut his eyes for a few seconds, “I’ll be in the car.”

With an empty bitterness he expected out of a seasoned veteran, Sloane responded, “yes, sir.”

Beau opened his eyes and a flash of hurt passed his eyes, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Reina. He had no fight left in him at that moment, so he chose to walk away instead. 

Sloane let out a shaky breath as her mother grabbed her arm to turn and face her, “you need to be patient with your dad, mi cielo. Different people deal with things in different ways. We are dealing with this in our own ways. Your anger towards him doesn’t make you right in this situation.”

“You heard the commander,” Sloane uttered.

Reina once again sighed and pulled her daughter towards her again, “we are allowed to be angry, but this feeling will pass. You shouldn’t have to deal with this at your age, but life works in mysterious ways, baby girl.”

Sloane was still dealing with her anger. An anger that would grow and fester for years to come, but for now, she let it roll off her shoulders for her mother, “he’s waiting for us in the car.”

– – – 

The ceremony went by as one would expect, words were said, tears were shed, flags were folded. The same Sergeant from a week ago, Thomas, handed the flag to Reina. It took everything for the colonel to not lose it like she did a week ago, she started to outwardly breathe in rapid bursts. Sloane thought that it looked like barking, and she would’ve made fun of her mom for the silly thing if it weren't for the fact that Sloane chose to imitate her in hopes of stopping herself from sobbing. 

It wasn’t until they were lowering her brother into the ground that Sloane let her emotions win. She started running and wanted to throw herself into the pit but a pair of arms caught her and started dragging her back. She proceeded to claw and scream for her brother, the body trying its hardest to hold her thrashing body still. People were looking at her but she couldn’t care less, they were putting her brother away and no one was stopping them. 

The body that held her was moving her as far away from the burial as possible. In the distance that was being created she saw her parents with emotionless faces as they lowered their son into the ground. The only semblance of shared feelings was their joined hands. A man in a uniform similar to her father’s walked up and placed a hand on his shoulder. She noticed he was blonde and had more ribbons than her dad. 

Sloane kept thrashing, she wanted to be in there, or at least she believed she deserved to be there, with him, with Bowie. Her struggle felt like it had gone on for hours when it was only really a minute. They reached the parked cars when the body holding her started audibly sobbing, she stiffened her body and turned towards her captor. A man she might have confused for her dad if you saw him from behind. A man that loved her like she was his own. Her father was his spitting image. But he wore a uniform much like her mom’s. 

A man she hasn’t seen in over a year, Brigadier General Benjamin Simpson, was as distraught as his niece, but with a water logged laugh he said, “you’ve been eating your vegetables, kid.”

– – –

Back at home, bodies were fluttering about. Some offered condolences and others were talking in hushed tones looking at Sloane, who sat at the edge of the couch closest to the recliner. Bowie’s corner. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a pair of slacks next to her, followed by a hand lowering to her eyeline, revealing a plate filled with meat, cheese, and fruit.

Sloane looked up for the owner of the hand, and a soft smile left the lips of one of the most hardened men. Uncle Ben was her favorite person besides her brother, but right now she just wanted to shut the world out. 

Ben sighed, placed the plate down on the coffee table, and perched himself on the edge of the couch, “you gotta eat something, Sloane.”

“‘M not hungry,” she mumbled, fixing her unfocused gaze upon the unfinished Christmas tree. 

“M’kay,” he relented. 

“...You’re supposed to be in Virginia.”

“Yeah… But my family needed me.”

“Hm.”

They sat there for a while until her stomach rumbled, she looked back up at her uncle who happened to be already looking at her. She let out a quiet laugh and reached towards the plate for a grape. Ben softly smiled and ruffled her hair as she slowly chewed the fruit. She took another grape after a minute, as she was finishing her grape she heard footsteps coming near. She looked up and saw her dad and the blonde man from earlier. Her uncle stood up and saluted the man, “Iceman.”

Iceman returned the salute with a solemn smile, “Zeus.” As the men’s arm return to their side Iceman leans over to notice the little girl who stopped chewing her grape, “and who is this little one?”

Sloane stood up and held her hand out for the older man, “Sloane Simpson, sir. ”

Beau smiles for the first time in a week as Iceman goes to shake her hand, “nice to meet you, Sloane.”

Sloane looked at her dad, Beau nodded and she turned her head back to the blond, “you as well, sir.”

“And how old are you, Smaller Simpson?”

She smiled for a quick second before going back to her reclusive demeanor, “eleven, I turn twelve next month.”

“Oh wow, twelve is a serious age.”

“It’s gonna get more serious after that.”

Iceman laughs, “yes it will. Yes it will.”

Her uncle then drew the two men into meaningless conversation, a distraction Iceman was willing to partake in for the sake of his brother in arms and office work. 

But Sloane kept staring at him as he talked with the Simpson Brothers. Iceman felt her gaze, looked down at her and kindly asked, “can I help you, Sloane Simpson?”

“Why do they call you, Iceman?”

Iceman begins to laugh and slowly Zeus and her dad begin to join. Nothing boisterous, it blends in with the chatter going around, “because of the way I fly, kid. Ice cold, no mistakes.”

“Hm. You fly like my dad and Uncle Ben?” 

“I used to. I find myself in the office more often than not nowadays.”

“What’s flying like?” she presses. 

Iceman raises his eyebrow in curiosity as he looks over to Ben who is smiling at her. Beau, however, has his jaw clenched and a sad look flashes across his face.

He finds that the girl’s gaze didn’t waver from him and he begins to clear his throat as he addresses the question deflecting at what may become a sensitive topic, “I haven’t flown in a while, Sloane. I think your dad and uncle here can explain it more than I can.”

Ben is about to open his mouth when Beau beats him to it, “As long as I live you’re not touching a jet, kid.”

“Why not?”

Beau just fixes her with a stare and her attitude from earlier comes back tenfold, yet quieter this time around, “sorry, commander.”

Sloane walks away to the backyard to escape the sudden stuffiness of her home. 

Meanwhile, Beau releases a shaky sigh, “I just– I don't know. I–”

Iceman places a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Even if it’s years down the line, I can't risk losing another one.”

Ben grabs his brother’s arm and gives it a squeeze, “yeah, but trying to stop it before it starts might just make it worse.”

– – –

Living in the Point Loma area meant Sloane was no stranger to the sound of commercial planes taking off and landing from the nearby airport, so it felt weird not to have any go by that day. As if the universe was delaying the sound for her brother’s absence. That and everyone knew flights didn’t take off late at night in San Diego. So she just kept staring at the darkening sky, thinking of her brother, and the christmas card she never got to give him. The backdoor slid open and a few footsteps were heard, but like earlier, she chose to wait until they announced themselves. She already recognized one of the sets anyway, she could only infer who the other person was. 

“Sloane, Iceman wanted to say goodbye.”

As she looked away from the sky, the familiar boom of a plane engine was heard overhead, she held up a finger to the sky and as the plane went farther the noise became less, “sorry, plane overhead.”

The blonde superior smiled and extended his hand to the girl, “It was lovely to meet you, Sloane Simpson.”

“You as well, sir.”

“And if you ever need anything, whether it’s from me or the Navy, you let me know. And if someone gets in your way, you tell ‘em Tom Kazansky said otherwise.”

“Yes, sir.”

Iceman smiled at the girl, turned to Beau and nodded his head, “Cyclone.”

“Sir,” Beau nodded back. 

The father and daughter watched the commanding officer walk away and disappear behind the doors leading into to the house. They stood there for a while, looking at the sky, just breathing in sync, the events of recently passing through them. 

The backdoor slid open again, and there was Ben, “come into the house, both of you! You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”

– – –

Three months passed but it still felt like it was yesterday that the sergeants came to their front door.

Ben had been reassigned to a new permanent station up in Miramar, which meant he was around more. Meanwhile, Reina and Beau found that they started talking to each other behind closed doors a lot more than normal couples should. They tell themselves it’s to shield Sloane from what they talk about, but everyone in the household knew it was a ruse. Because that’s all a closed door is, it’s just closed. Sound travels well when you’re a nosy twelve-year-old sticking your ear to a door. 

“What are you trying to say, Beau?”

“He would still be here!” He whisper-yelled. 

“I went to the academy just like you! Tell me, please, what example I set for him.”

“The Marines–”

“He chose to enlist! If you would have listened to him instead of shoving your need for legacy down his throat you would have noticed that he didn’t like school!”

“He didn’t even give it the old college try.”

“Oh please be real with yourself, Beau! Would you have let him drop out if he wanted to? Or would you have done the same thing you did when he joined and made it your mission to forget he existed as a Simpson, as your son.”

“Don’t-”

“Don’t what, remind you of how you neglected him for three months when he needed us most? He’s lucky he had your brother, Sloane, and I! Do you know how hard and taxing that training can be? And away from those you love most? To be broken down and built back up? And to become a singular entity giving yourself as property and being grouped with stereotypes because of what you decided to pursue? He did it for YOU, Beau! He wanted to prove that he can take the hardships without counting on our academy legacy! He just wanted to set his own path, Beau. You can’t blame him for doing what he thought would impress you.”

“Look where it got him, Reina!”

A choked sob is heard, some shuffling steps, and small ‘i’m sorry, i didn’t mean that’s’. 

Tears were streaming down Sloane’s face as anger coursed through her veins. Her dad had no right to blame her mom for Bowie’s death. But she recalled her conversation with her mom three months ago, where she told Sloane that different people deal with things in different ways. Maybe her dad’s way was to blame her mom. Maybe Sloane’s way was to blame her dad. 

Before she could dwell any further on those thoughts an arm went around her waist and a hand clapped over her mouth. 

“Shh,” he said, “follow me.”

Ben slowly released his niece and walked off to the living room of the home. 

“How’d you get in?” Sloane wondered.

“Just because you live in a relatively safe area of town doesn’t mean you can put your spare key in a relatively stupid place for all other people to see,” he explained.

“Okay, but why are–”

Ben puffed out his chest and crossed his arms, “Mm, no. It's my turn to ask a question: what were you doing eavesdropping?”

Sloane looked down, truly ashamed to be called out by the one person she truly believed was in her corner, “I’m sorry.”

“What the hell are you apologizing to me for? I’m not the one whose privacy you invaded.”

Sloane just swallowed the lump in her throat, “...they were really good at hiding it for a couple weeks after the funeral, but on my birthday I went looking for them so that we could cut the cake. I heard the yelling. I couldn’t stop listening since then.”

Ben softened and held his arms out as the girl hiccupped her way through her words, “oh, Sloane.”

She rushed into his arms. As much as she loved her uncle, at that moment she wanted it to be someone else holding her. Someone that was gone. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Sloane felt the crown of her head become wet with her uncle’s tears. They only looked up when they heard footsteps coming down the hall. 

Reina and Beau stood as far apart as the hallway would let them. Beau brought his gaze up from the floor, it was the most sad and scared Sloane has seen her father since they buried Bowie all those months ago. Reina had her arms crossed across her chest and was staring at the Christmas tree that she didn’t have the heart to put away. 

“Come sit with me, Sloane,” Beau tempted as he walked towards his recliner. He sat down and patted the armrest when he noticed she didn’t leave her uncle’s arms. Slowly, and hesitantly, she made her way over. She sat down on the ledge and her father pulled her into his arms and cradled, as if she was a newborn, “thanks for being here, Ben.”

“Anytime,” the man replied.

Beau began to stroke Sloane’s hair like he did when she was smaller. Sloane felt another lump in her throat.

“You know mom and I love you so much, right?” He asked. 

Sloane nodded. 

“I need to hear you, honey.”

“Yes, sir,” she stated wearily. 

Beau drew in a sharp breath, knowing that she was still hurt by his past comment. He went back to stroking her hair, “then please believe me and your mom when we say this has nothing to do with you, okay?”

Sloane sat up from Beau’s embrace, “what are you talking about?”

Beau and Reina shared a glance, the woman giving a single heavy nod before she spoke up, “Sloane, baby. You’re dad and I think it’s best for everyone involved if we… took some time apart from each other.”

“What?” Sloane immediately stood up from her father’s hold, and for a slight moment his arms chased his little girl, wishing that this never had to happen. He saw the light in her eyes die, and he thought to himself if that’s what he looked like when his son said he was enlisting. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart! you’ll still see me and dad but things are going to look and feel different–”

Sloane turns to her uncle, “is that why you’re here?”

“Sloane–”

“Don’t lie to me!” She yelled. 

There was a tense second before Sloane bolted for the front door and made it in time before anyone could block her. A chorus made up of her name was heard behind her as she ran down the street with no specific direction. She just ran. And ran. And ran and ran and ran. 

Back home, Ben ran back to the worried parents, “I can’t tell what street she went down, I’ll get in my car to look for her.”

“Good idea. I’m gonna call Ice and stay here in case she decides to come back,” Beau said walking back into the house. 

As Ben started his car he heard a knock on his window. He looked over to see a tearful Reina, he rolled down the window and she spoke up, “can I tag along?”

Ben nodded and unlocked the doors. As she settled in he pulled off the curb and began driving. 

After a long moment of silence and driving every surrounding block Ben spoke up, “can I be candid with you, right now?”

Reina sniffled, “sure.”

“Why now?” he questioned.

“What do you mean?” She asked as she played with the hem of her shirt. 

“I mean why now? I know I'm never going to understand because I don’t have a kid of my own but this is easier for you,” he explained, albeit vaguely.

“I don't understand.”

Ben pulled into a free spot along the curb, parked his car, and looked at his sister-in-law, “I mean why now? I understand if it’s hard for you and Beau, shit, I know he’s a stubborn piece of shit I grew up with him for christ sake but that little girl that just ran out of the living room and onto the streets of San Diego has no one. I sacrificed my connection with her because of my brother. She doesn't have a brother anymore, Reina. And now she doesn’t have a stable relationship at home. And instead of seeking the help to slowly introduce her to the idea, you rip off the band aid? There is a little girl running around out there who is losing everything in front of her eyes at too fast of a rate. So I'll ask you this right now because Beau isn’t here, why?”

Reina didn’t have an answer. 

– – – 

“What was she wearing?” He asked as he scanned his surrounding areas. 

On the other side of the line, Beau pinched the bridge of his nose in thought, “ Uh, She was– she was wearing a light-gray long sleeve and black jeans. With black converse.”

“Got it. I’ll call you with updates,” Ice ended the call and kept driving. 

After an hour and no sign of the girl anywhere, he breathed deeply, and parked along the cliffside side viewing area. Tom Kazansky enjoyed the San Diego sunsets, he claimed that there was probably nowhere else in the contiguous United States that had prettier sunsets than San Diego. As he admired the setting sun he noticed a very young person wearing a gray-long sleeve and black jeans sitting on the bench admiring the same view. 

He slowly got out of his car and made his way toward the girl. He shot a text to the worried commander before he reached Sloane:

Found her. All fine. Don’t rush, I’ll take her home. Let me talk to her. 

“With black converse,” he smiled as he stood next to her. Iceman looked back out to the horizon and took a seat on the empty portion of the bench. 

“This is my favorite bench,” he said after a moment.

“Really?” her eyes slowly panning to pay attention to him. 

“No,” he stated, causing Sloane to chortle, “But it got you to laugh, didn’t it?” 

Sloane just nodded.

“So what’s up? Your dad called me worried saying you ran away,” at the mention of his commander her face soured, “what’d he do?”

“Can I tell you a secret, Iceman?” she asked with big wide eyes, unbeknownst to her, the last time she would let anyone see her that way. 

“My lips are sealed, Sloane Simpson,” he dragged his pointer and thumb across his lips and threw his ‘key’ far into the pacific ocean. 

“My parents are getting a divorce,” she threw out, “they say they’re gonna separate but I know what’s really gonna happen.”

Ice sat up straighter and looked back out to the ocean, where the sun was slowly making its way further out, and hiding behind the horizon, “oh wow. That must be hard.”

“It is. My brother just died and my parents are no longer going to be together. Is the rest of my life going to be this hard?” she whimpered.

Iceman reveled in the last sliver of sun as it disappeared behind the horizon, “I wish I could genuinely answer that question for you, kid.”

“But if you could?” she prodded.

Iceman thought for a bit and gave a big exhale, “I would say that the more life wants to throw at you, the stronger you are. The cruel mistress herself wouldn’t attempt to tear you down if she didn’t see something worth tearing.”

Sloane began to sniffle but Iceman continued, “but contrary to popular belief, we should take care of ourselves when she deals devastating blows. That way, when she comes back to deal another blow she sees we have built ourselves higher and thicker.”

“Can I tell you something else?”

“Of course you can,” he obliged.

The girl fiddled with her fingers for a while, finding the courage to admit whatever she was thinking about to her dad’s boss. When she finally spoke the familiar black and blue of the night surrounded them, with the waves crashing against the cliffs beneath her, “I want to–”

A plane flew by overhead, she looked up and pointed up to it and waited for it to pass by before she looked at him, “Fly.”

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 10/3/2023

september was not kind but we're back with a real making section babEY and lengthy all other sections

listening

SHIFTED by Jolynn J Chin, a progressive jazz (?) piano piece that changes time signatures on every bar. i am led to understand this is a massive technical achievement but more importantly to me it sounds cool as hell. this is a little funny bc pianist friends occasionally complain that the technically challenging pieces that are fun to play aren't that fun to actually listen to. spotify

the artist uploaded an explainer video that went well over my head but i have no music theory background. i know that not every video with a lady patiently talking through a problem on a whiteboard is going to be a physics video but spiritually this is a physics video to me

how'd i find this: spotify discover weekly

-

reading

lee winter's The Fixer. perfectly fine technical quality of writing but absolutely bizarre plot. there will be spoilers for this book bc i cannot talk about this book without them.

A naive activist is hired by a corporate villain but doesn’t realize it. Cue one awkward farce, a twisty puzzle, and the slowest of slow burns in this opposites-attract, ice queen romance. Nine years ago, aloof, icy Michelle Hastings chose career over love. She’s now living with that choice as she rules a secret corporation catering to the rich and powerful. Enter Eden Lawless. The guileless activist finds it a bit weird being employed by a mystery organization to bring down a corrupt mayor. But, hey, she’s up for a challenge. Much harder is getting her beautiful new boss out of her head. The pull between them is electric.

this was not the fanfic level of mean woman i prefer. this woman is a bit of a tsundere boss with some past regrets. like yeah her Company does awful shit but she herself is a very restrained sort of James Bond villain level of icy polite.

unfortunately the actual plot itself is so fucking bizarre.

one of my two concerns: the author is not Jewish but has written Michelle as such, and employed sensitivity readers. i do not know that it is in the very best of taste to have a Jewish woman as the head of a shadowy, textually evil, para-governmental organization pulling strings behind the scenes for the rich and powerful.

the other thing that really threw me is that the series of events we are concerned with, a mayoral election in small-town uhhhh maryland??? i have returned the book and cannot fact check-- seems to be a very thinly veiled rehashing of the 2016 presidential primaries. but as a mayoral campaign.

there is an obnoxious redheaded used car salesman who is running for national publicity for his used car business and writes nasty jingles about his main opponent, a very unpleasant woman who nevertheless gets things done but WAS a slumlord and DID ruin our activist Eden's life. everyone in the county is in her pocket. things are running quietly and well in town, and her platform is solar. the solar farms would take up literally all the actual farmland in the country and (spoiler) she is defeated bc the townspeople think this would be an eyesore and not actually bring that many jobs to the town. again, i stress this is a small town mayoral campaign. they are a college town but it is an EXTREMELY small lib arts college. she has the correct idea about renewables but downfall is that she personally is reprehensible and is going about renewables WRONG!!!

our main character Eden sinks this renewable energy plan bc, again, in college, legally-not-Hillary-Clinton got her dad fired from the local hospital and ran them out of town bc of Eden's protests against her slumlord activities.

then there is the objectively best candidate, a retired pediatrician in the very early stages of dementia who is sort of a puppet candidate for his wife, the actual political mind who hired the evil CEO Michelle's company through a shell company in order to sink her husband's opponent. VERY weird setup.

this was indirectly recced by a big name romance writer who would would not appreciate being tagged lol. i will not be reading the second half of this duology. too much stuff that made me go WHUH???

-

watching

The Big O is a 1999 and then 2003 detective noir mecha anime. i have never wondered what batman: the animated series would look like if it went in a different retrofuturist direction and put bruce wayne in mecha, but now i have that answer.

this show looks good as fuckin hell. there are SO many dutch angles and dials and gadgets and switches. there's a cut in the first episode that doesn't translate well to screenshots, to the interior of a luxury apartment building and the water in the pool is sloshing around as mechs fight outside.

ive only seen the first three episodes but im having a marvelous fucking time. very importantly for me, there is a robot who is a child but notorious womanizer Bruce Wayne Roger Smith isn't fuckin weird about it.

how i found it: this post reblogged by @ouroborosenso ! the line "You're a louse, Roger Smith." got one short sharp bark of laughter out of me, and a bone dry sense of humor is an excellent selling point. it's available on the internet archive (dubbed but no subtitles)

-

playing

im having a grand old time with g/enshin's new area. my shit did kind of get rocked with the revelation that the prisoners-- okay let's back up. the player character gets sent to prison on false charges so they can investigate something for the chief justice. backing up farther, the watery land of Fontaine runs on magic energy produced during its court trials. this incentivizes them to make the court trials full-on fucking dramatic productions with very little care for like. victims. once convicted (fontaine feels like it has a near 100% conviction rate, very much like japan) prisoners go to an underwater prison that is a more steampunk version of bioshock. these prisoners make the automated clockwork humanoid police force, as well as the automated clockwork police dogs. there is a panopticon.

the economy in the prison (cannot believe this game that wants me to spend money on anime waifus so i can watch their skirts billow teasingly in the wind while i fight big monsters also wants me to think about prison economies) anyway the economy in the prison is scrip-based. you get one free meal a day but everything else runs on scrip. apparently many people choose to stay in prison after their terms are up bc they have achieved some sort of power and stability there. says a lot about the surface world, don't it? wish we SAW literally any of that in the surface world!

i guess being very overt about drawing from a fifteen year old game is like. kosher? so many other games have drawn from bioshock, but genshin draws so heavily and frequently from Breath of the Wild that it was a little jarring to go from the last area with the cute little korok seed knockoffs and a lot of thinking about academic misconduct to somewhere with a flavor of politics i think a lot more about. as you travel throughout the land of genshin impact, you are quite involved in big diplomatic incidents and overthrowing various baddies, installing the correct people, things of this nature. i think this new land of Fontaine is the most overtly political in that literally all of your time here is spent thinking about exactly how this country's administration operates. it's not a real "hey look we've recreated the Torture Nexus" situation yet but i am curious about what sort of themes the next expansion will be chewing on. im also not quite done with the second of two giant quests that take place in the prison so stay tuned.

bonkers fucking game. wish it wasn't gambling based and didn't have to adhere so closely to chinese restrictions. wish literally ANY outlet was regularly covering this insane lore hiding under the gacha and grind systems

-

making

the goddamn couch covers are finally done. they are 9x12 and 12x16 100% cotton drop cloths from Chicago Art Supply, and im quite happy with their quality (evenness of weave, normal selvededge, normal seams). i used rit all purpose dye in fuchsia (hot bucket method with colorstay, more on that later) and the itajime triangle method of shibori dyeing. this involved folding the fabric accordion-wise, folding it like a flag, then sandwiching it between two triangles of wood or plastic with many many many rubber bands or twine.

it was a right fucking bitch to prewash, dry, and fold these fuckers. mack was deeply unhelpful. if i need to wash them in future i will be visiting a laundromat.

i could not procure enough dye locally for the recommended 1 packet per 1 lb of dry fabric (4 and 8 pounds respectively) so i did a .75 strength dye bath, since i wasn’t trying to dye the entire thing perfectly and evenly. i think you could probably do a half or quarter strength with more time and be fine. the photo on the left is the smaller dropcloth after a half hour in the bucket (unfolded in the washer to reduce. well to just reduce many problems) , and i did not like that high of a contrast bc i did want some color on all the fabric. so i unfolded and dunked the whole thing back in for literally thirty seconds and it promptly sucked up the rest of the available dye molecules, making it lower contrast than i wanted. so it goes.

i didn’t like how even and neat the triangle motif was on this go round (when deciding on colors and patterns for this project i was thinking about coral and pink cow print but did not want a literal pink cow print couch), so for the next one i did a much worse job folding and was way more aggressive with the rubber bands. i also folded it in half lengthwise to make the accordion folds easier for myself, something i did not do for the smaller one.

and here she is through my balcony screen door after an hour in the dye bucket and a wash with half the recommended amount of fixative to get it to bleed a Little for better coverage of the fabric but keep it lower contrast. i am not completely thrilled with how this came out bc i feel it reads a little sorority girl tshirt. im not sure if making the motif/triangles smaller would have helped any, and even though i was not folding it in half every time you can only fold something so many times before it becomes extremely cumbersome.

couch before the cushion, the cover loosely on the couch. i am going to safety pin and tuck the shit out of this but do not currently have the bandwidth to actually sew it. we’ll see how this goes! kind of a pain in the ass and physically taxing but not a lot of actual hands on time, and now the dyeing bug is out of my system.

preview of next project: i am going to repaint this somewhat shabby globe bar with northern hemisphere constellations :)

[laurenairay]

gotta trust how you feel inside - J. Skinner

Summary: Jeff Skinner had never met anyone like Cameron Marlow before. Turns out, he had a lot to learn.

A story of accepting someone for who they are, as well as accepting yourself.

This is my entry for @wyattjohnston​’s summer fic exchange 2k23, for @nhl-stories​! I decided to do something a little different than I’ve ever done before, based off of your prompts and answers to my questions, so I really hope you like this. I researched so many articles and blog posts and videos on coming out and acceptance and all the different ways people have felt and reacted in their own journeys, so I really hope I did Cam’s story justice. Also heavily inspired by Mae Martin and their wonderful self!

Warnings: angst, slow burn, friends to lovers, fear of coming out as non-binary, change of pronouns part-way through.

Words: 4.8k

Title from Green Eyes by Arlo Parks.

Thank you to @tippedbykreider​ for being a wonderful beta reader!

Some of these folks wanna make you cry, But you gotta trust how you feel inside, And shine, and shi-ine, yeah, yeah, yeah.

~

“Jeff! Pizza or tacos?”

“Tacos please!”

“On it!”

Jeff smiled to himself as his neighbour Cameron disappeared from her balcony, back into the apartment below his. Their Friday night tradition of take-out and movies – whenever he was in town, that was – was something he treasured. Most of his teammates over 30 years old had a wife and kids at home for their Friday nights, but not Jeff. Maybe it was something that bothered him a lot when he was younger, not having someone to come back home to like everyone else seemed to, but since he’d been traded to Buffalo, it was something he was learning to let go of. There were plenty of other things in his life, plenty of other people, to fill what society deemed him missing, and he appreciated all of them. Loved all of them.

Cameron Marlow included.

She had been a breath of fresh air when he’d first moved into their shared apartment building back in summer 2018. Single, like he was, and only a year younger, so at least he didn’t feel completely out of place. And she was an introvert much like he was slowly growing into, meaning he didn’t have to put on a fake extroverted energy all the time, didn’t have to be ‘on’ 100%. The two of them bonded over just wanting someone to hang out with sometimes, someone who wouldn’t judge a depleted social battery. He knew that her work was intense, that she was damn good at her job too, and that the hyper-focus she had to have on all the time during her workdays left her pretty drained by the time she got home, much like hockey sometimes left him socially inept, so he appreciated having her as a friend he could just be himself with.

It didn’t hurt that she was blonde, blue-eyed, and completely & utterly beautiful. But that wasn’t something he wanted to think about right now. Cameron was so out of his league it wasn’t funny. Her intense corporate work aside, she was so interesting as a person that he barely felt like he could keep up. She was part of a book club, reading fiction about all kinds of different topics that he barely understood, leaving him feeling like more of a dumbass every time he attempted to follow along. She always volunteered during Pride month at the parade, making sure teenagers felt safe and secure and hopeful. She introduced him to plays and movies and poetry readings that he never would’ve thought of going to. He tried to keep up with her, loving the time they spent together too much not to, and it always seemed like she appreciated it anyway.

At least her dating life was as much of a disaster as his was. That was always something he could console himself with. Her type seemed to be tall blonde beefcakes, typical douchey gym bros, and every time a series of dates ended with the two of them eating ice-cream on one of their sofas, Jeff felt their friendship bond grow just that little bit more. He knew that his friendship with her was one of the best and closest and most genuine friendships he’d ever had, and over the past five years he’d grown to cherish it over anything else.

Cameron Marlow was in his life to stay, and there was nothing he ever wanted to change about that.

“Alright, tacos should be here in 30 minutes. Do you have beer?”

“Of course, I’m not a heathen,” Jeff scoffed.

Cameron just laughed, blonde waves swinging over her shoulder as she shut his apartment door behind her. She was dressed similar to him, tank top and sweatpants with fluffy socks, and she wasted no time in pulling her hair back in a messy bun after passing him a beer and sitting down next to him on his oversized sofa.

By the time their tacos arrived – Jeff went down to the lobby to pick them up, of course – Cameron had all but sunk into the sofa, all tension disappearing from her body. It was a good look for her, to be honest, peaceful and relaxed and content. And the fact that it was in his apartment that she was able to feel this way? Well, that meant everything to him.

However, by the time they’d finished eating, Cameron had flicked through her phone a few times, and a frown had grown on her face, her body a line of stiff tension again. He didn’t think it was because of him – he knew he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary to her – but it still concerned him all the same.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Jeff said, “Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know if you’d want to hear it?”

Jeff found himself frowning as he shook his head. Why would he not want to hear what she had to say?

“I always want to hear what you have to say? Why would I not?”

Cameron seemed to hesitate for a moment, eyes filled with something that he couldn’t read. Despite their five years of friendship, there was still so much he didn’t know about her, he knew that much. But why would she think he wouldn’t want to know what was bothering her?

“It’s just…okay, so you know I’m part of a book club, right?” Cameron blurted.

“Yes.”

He didn’t have a clue where this was going, but he was just going to roll with it. The book club met every other Sunday, he knew that much.

“Well we’re reading I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver, and naturally the conversation turned political,” Cameron started.

“As it would, sure,” Jeff nodded.

He didn’t know if it would be rude to pull out his phone to google what the book was about while she was talking, so he just decided to wait to see if she would explain.

“And like, a few of the group can relate to the main character Ben’s struggle, right? Coming out as non-binary to his parents only to be immediately kicked out of the house, so the topic was pretty personal for some of my friends…”

So that was what the book was about. Huh. He could only imagine how difficult that kind of situation would be. And Cameron said it had also happened to some of her friends? Damn.

“…and with the political climate right now, things just got so heated. As it would.”

“As it would,” Jeff agreed.

Well, not that he actually knew much about the political climate around gender. It was gender she was talking about, right?

“Gender is always an emotionally difficult topic,” he said, hedging his bet.

“Exactly!” she nodded.

Oh good, he’d gotten it right.

“The discussion is still bothering you though?” he prompted, eyes flicking to the phone she’d put down on the coffee table.

“Well, yeah, because New York still has so far to go in terms of making things equal for non-binary people. Like, shit, it took until late 2021 for driving licenses to get non-binary options on, and even now official government departments might not have options for all forms until 2024!”

“That seems unfairly restrictive?” Jeff said, frowning.

“It is! And of course, it’s started so many debates and discussions from hate groups and just generally horrible people about whether any of it should even be allowed. Like, what the fuck? All these absolute fuck-up debates about non-binary recognition, how non-binary people are basically invisible, it makes me so mad! How is it okay that a tiny group of people decide that I don’t exist?”

As she wound herself up angrier and angrier, Jeff froze slightly at Cameron’s words. That I don’t exist.

I.

Not they.

Cameron was talking about herself.

No, if Cameron was talking about herself then that would mean she was non-binary…

Whatever was showing on his face made Cameron stop in confusion, before absolute horror flooded her expression.

“I mean, I, heh-”

Cameron cut herself off with a whimper, eyes desperately darting around like she was looking around for an exit from his apartment, and in that moment, Jeff’s heart broke a little. Cameron was trying to get away from him, because she was scared of his reaction. Scared of him. That was the last thing he ever wanted.

Jeff swallowed heavily, before smiling lightly. “I can’t imagine you ever being invisible. No-one should ever make you feel that way.”

The tears that filled Cameron’s eyes caused Jeff to panic slightly. Had he said the wrong thing? Had he ruined their friendship? Had he ruined…everything else?

“Fuck. Fuck, that wasn’t how I ever wanted it to come out,” Cameron murmured, “You don’t hate me?”

The last few whispered words broke his heart all over again. Jeff quickly shook his head as he put his beer down, taking Cameron’s hands in his.

“I could never hate you. I may not understand much about what you’re going through. Like, as a non-binary person. But I could never hate you, okay? You’re still Cameron to me,” Jeff said firmly.

Because it was true.

He might not know much about what it meant to be non-binary, or understand Cameron’s struggles, but the fact that she was scared he would hate her said all that he needed to know. Cameron was still his friend, still the same person he’d always known – he just knew a little more now, that was all, right?

Cameron bit her bottom lip for a moment, seeming to hesitate about something, so Jeff just squeezed her hands reassuringly.

“Actually, I prefer just Cam,” Cameron said.

“Okay. Okay, Cam it is,” Jeff nodded.

“And they/them pronouns,” Cameron added.

Cam.

They/Them.

Cam. They/Them.

He could absolutely do that.

“Cam. They/Them. Got it,” Jeff said firmly, still smiling.

Cam seemed to hesitate for a moment again, looking confused now.

“Just like that? You have no questions or reluctance or anything?” Cam asked, frowning.

“Well, no? Not really? I mean, you know yourself better than I do, right? So if you tell me that you won’t be using she/her any more then that’s not my choice? It’s you and how you are in yourself. It’s only right that I follow what you need,” Jeff said, frowning in response, “Is that not okay? I know I’ve probably been getting things wrong for years now, but I’ll do better?”

Cam laughed softly in disbelief, shaking their head.

“Of course it’s okay. And it’s only been a couple of years really but that’s because I purposely didn’t tell you. Haven’t really told many people, if I’m being honest. I just…I wasn’t expecting you to just accept it straight away? Like, you’re a hockey player right, and…”

“And hockey players have a reputation of being homophobic assholes? There’s a few prominent names popping out lately, yeah. But that’s not me. My older sisters played hockey on women’s teams while we were growing up and there were a few lesbians out and proud with their friends, so it’s not like I haven’t been around the LGBTQ+ community? And I know that non-binary is your gender, not anything with your sexuality, but what I mean is that I’m not that kind of asshole?” Jeff explained, “I might be a dumbass hockey player most the time but I’m not that full stereotype.”

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have painted you with that brush. I’m sorry,” Cam said, wincing.

“It’s okay. No, really it is. I get that you have to expect the worst from people and I hate that you have to, but you don’t have to with me, okay? I’ve got a lot to learn, I know that. So much. But you don’t have to be scared or nervous around me. I promise,” Jeff said, smiling.

Cam smiled shakily, nodding their head, finally losing a bit of tension in their shoulders.

“Thank you. I just…thank you,”

“I accept you for who you are, Cam Marlow. Exactly how you are,” Jeff said firmly.

Cam choked out a sob, hand flying up to cover their mouth, and it was all Jeff could do to let go of their hands and open his arms wide. Cam wasted no time in flinging themselves forward into his body, letting Jeff hug them as they cried into the crook of his neck. Jeff felt tears sting at his own eyes, but he just held them tight, rubbing their back to reassure them.

Everything would change from here, he knew that. But he wasn’t going anywhere.

*

Skinner Siblings

Jeff: A friend of mine recently came out to me as non-binary. Obviously I support them and I'm so proud of them but I haven't got a clue where to start to understand it all better? I just want to be a good friend.

Andrea: Firstly, congrats to your friend. I won't ask who because that's none of my business. Secondly, do you want some resources?

Jeff: Yeah I won't say their name because they haven't said I could. But yes please to resources!

Erica: Good start on using their correct pronouns Jeffy.

Jeff: I'm trying. It's literally the least I can do.

Erica: More than a lot of people would! Just as a tip, more than anything else, follow whatever your friend says is right for them. And if you mess up, correct yourself and move on. You are a good friend, even just by wanting to learn.

Jillian: Love you Jeffy. Proud of you!

Andrea: I’m proud of you too. I found a bunch of resources for definitions and reading material and even blog posts. Let me email you.

*

“Sex is what you’re assigned at birth, based on bodily characteristics. Gender can be completely separate from the sex you’ve been assigned at birth. That’s the best thing about gender: it’s free, flexible and completely yours to decide.”

“A recent Stonewall study found that 31% of nonbinary people have experienced hate crime as a result of their gender identity.”

“60% of Americans have at least heard about gender-neutral pronouns, many people may still be kind of unsure of what to say or do. According to the survey results, 52% of Americans report that they would be somewhat or very comfortable using gender-neutral pronouns with someone they know. But 47% said that they would be somewhat or very uncomfortable doing so.”

“A common misconception is that all non-binary identities sit somewhere in the middle of male and female, and that if you’re non-binary you’ll fit neatly into a box labelled ‘androgynous’. But this really isn’t the case – and one of the most liberating things about being non-binary is that there are no set rules around how you express or experience your gender.”

Jeff’s head spun as he read through all the resources that his sister Andrea sent over to him. There was so much new information to digest, and yet still not enough somehow. Sure, GLAAD was a great place to start for definitions, but he knew there was still so much further for him to go.

Baby steps though, right?

If Cam could take things step by step, so could he.

One of the first things that Jeff did was to add his pronouns to his twitter and Instagram bios. A simple he/him. It wasn’t much, but it was a start – and at least hopefully, if anyone asked him (not that he expected they would), then he could start a positive conversation about pronouns and representation. It was, quite literally, the least he could do. It was also likely that Cam would never notice either, but if they did then he wanted them to know that this was another way he could support them – it was important that everyone and anyone could use the pronouns they knew were correct for themselves, he knew that now. So if he could show people that with his level of publicity then he absolutely would.

He had to use his privilege for something good, right?

In the weeks following Cam’s accidental non-binary announcement, aside from his own research journey, it seemed like a new side of Cam’s life opened that he’d never been privy to before. Sure, he’d liked and treasured the time that the two of them spent alone over the past five years, but now it seemed like they were comfortable enough to let him into a whole new level. He wasn’t entitled to it in the slightest, he knew that, so he made that they knew exactly how much he appreciated these new steps they were taking.

Cam also opened up more to him about their discovery journey. About how they had felt just ever-so-slightly wrong in their body for so long, not understanding why until they stumbled across an LGBTQ+ poetry slam one night not long after he had moved into their apartment building, not knowing what to do about how they felt until a few years ago. Cam had insisted that they hadn’t kept things separate from him maliciously – it was more of a case that they had still been figuring it out for themselves while they were getting to know him too, and part of their process had been compartmentalising. He wasn’t mad. He literally had no right to be, but he genuinely wasn’t mad. The fact that they finally felt comfortable enough with him and within themselves to take down those barriers? That was all that he cared about.

They had even introduced him openly to a few of their friends. Jeff hadn’t understood the side-eyes and the smirks or even the money exchanged between a couple of the group, but he finally in on the jokes about Cam being a social disaster, finally able to have them smiling at him like he was in on the secret. He was part of a whole new world – one that confused him heavily sometimes, but one that he appreciated being able to be within – and he loved that his friendship with Cam had only grown from strength to strength with each new thing he learned about them.

None of that changed how their smile still gave him butterflies.

*

“You cut your hair.”

That was the first thing that came out of his mouth when Cam opened the front door of their apartment. It had been only a little over a month since their unintentional coming out, but it seemed like each day Cam was a little more settled in their skin, and it made Jeff feel so happy that he got to be part of that. Their hair though – that was a big change.

“I…did. Is it bad?” Cam asked, a little nervous.

Cam’s hair had previously been down to their waist, naturally tousled and dirty blonde. But now…now it was short. Super short. A pixie cut, maybe? At least that’s what he remembered from one of his sister’s magazines. A white-blonde pixie cut. Huh.

“Not bad. Like, at all. It really suits you,” Jeff said firmly, as he walked past them into their apartment.

“You’re not just saying that?” Cam asked hopefully.

“I’m a really bad liar, you know that,” Jeff shrugged, smiling a little sheepishly as Cam laughed, “And I wouldn’t lie to you about this. It’s different, sure. But it feels like you.”

Cam exhaled shakily, shoulders losing a little tension as they nodded. “That’s what I thought. That it feels like me, more than anything else ever has.”

Jeff hesitated slightly as some of the reading he’d done came back to him, before he took a deep breath to steel himself.

“Was this a gender dysphoria thing? Is there still anything else you want to do to feel more comfortable in your body?” he asked.

Cam’s eyes widened slightly before they smiled fondly at him. “You really have done your reading, haven’t you?”

“I just…wanted to be a good friend,” Jeff said, feeling a little awkward.

Was he not meant to have tried to learn more? Did Cam not want that?

“Oh Jeff, you are one of the best friends a person could ever ask for,” Cam said, shaking their head as they smiled, letting Jeff breathe a little sigh of relief.

“You deserve it,” Jeff shrugged.

Interestingly, Cam blushed a little, before they laughed softly, moving to pull some coffee mugs out of the kitchen cupboard.

“Right, to answer your questions. The hair was kind of a gender dysphoria thing? My long hair just felt so feminine, and that obviously isn’t me anymore. Or maybe was never me? I don’t know, I’m still figuring out how I feel about it. In terms of anything else…I’m not trans. I don’t want to transition from female to male, because I genuinely don’t feel like either of them. That isn’t my journey. I’ve been dressing pretty androgynously for a few years so that covers most of what I feel like I need? And it’s not like my boobs are particularly big anyway so I can just wear a tighter tank top if I have days where they are a trigger,” Cam explained.

Jeff’s eyes dropped to their chest before he could even stop himself, and he felt his cheeks flare in horror at his reaction as he quickly looked back up to their face. What was wrong with him? Why would he…bleurgh.

Cam politely ignored his reaction, their mouth quirking in a slight smile.

“Periods might be an issue I’ll have to face at some point, but that’s something I’ll deal with as I get to it,” they shrugged.

He’d heard all the horrors of periods over the years from his sisters, so while he wasn’t quite desensitised, he didn’t grimace.

“There’s birth control you can go on to stop them for a few years though, right? Like, the implant or the coil?” Jeff said, tilting his head, “That’s always an option.”

Cam’s eyes widened slightly again, before they shook their head. “You are a gem, Jeff Skinner. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”

Jeff found his cheeks heating up again, but he just smiled, shrugging. It’s not like he was looking for a gold star for being a half-decent human being after all.

Cam finally finished making their coffees, sliding Jeff’s over the counter to him while they sat down on the stool opposite.

“Oh, here, I got you something,” Jeff said, reaching into his bag, “It’s a little lame now that I think about it, but I already bought it so here we go.”

“This is…a cupcake?”

“A coming out cupcake. In your colours,” Jeff nodded, smiling.

White, yellow, purple and black swirled icing on a vanilla cupcake, the colours of the non-binary flag, from a tiny LGBTQ+ friendly bakery that he’d found in the city. The day he’d ordered it, he remembered the tiny smile that cracked on the terrifying butch woman’s face behind the counter, probably because he’d been rambling about wanting to celebrate and support Cam. He’d tried to find a date in the last month that felt right, but with Cam still settling into themselves publicly combined with his travelling schedule, it had taken longer than he wanted. But when he’d picked it up this morning he felt good about it. It might only be a silly little thing, but Cam loved cupcakes, right? So it felt good just to show Cam a little appreciation.

“This might be the sweetest thing ever. My god, Jeff. Why?”

“You deserve something nice? To mark this new chapter? The world is full of terrifying things that happen to people when they come out as non-binary. I’ve read some really awful blog posts about people whose lives were turned upside down just for being brave enough to be themselves. And I know you’re going to have to keep coming out over and over and over again even in just the tiniest of ways, so this is just me saying that I see you and I appreciate you.”

“Damn it Jeff, you’re going to make me cry again,” Cam

“Sorry?” he offered.

Cam just laughed, shaking their head as tears sprung to their eyes.

“I just hope that coming out to my parents will be as smooth as coming out to you was,” Cam said softly.

“You aren’t out to your parents?”

“No,” Cam murmured, shaking their head, “I’m so nervous.”

“Hey, no, don’t be, okay? Your parents love you,” Jeff said, frowning.

“You know just as well as I do how badly parents can react. It’s such an unknown reaction. And it’s not like they would’ve had any kind of idea that this is how I felt about myself over the past few years, right? No build up or lead in that they would have to prepare themselves,” Cam sighed.

They were right. Jeff had read the blog posts, the articles, the statistics. He hated that Cam had to go through this, but it wasn’t his place to pretend that everything was going to be a-okay.

“All you can do is be honest with them. That’s literally it,” Jeff said softly.

“I’m 30 years old, I shouldn’t be this scared to tell my parents who I really am,” they said, laughing a little dryly.

“It’s a natural reaction, Cam. From what I understand anyway. You love them – they’re your parents. You don’t want to lose them, it makes sense. But you also wouldn’t be doing yourself justice in not living your truth,” Jeff said, smiling sadly, “I’m here for you, no matter what happens, okay?”

They nodded, sniffing slightly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything and more. Never let anyone tell you differently,” Jeff said fiercely.

Cam choked out a laugh, blinking away their tears as they nodded again.

“Alright, if Jeff Skinner says it, then it must be true,” they said, wry smile on their face.

Jeff just grinned, making them laugh properly this time. He couldn’t bear the thought of them feeling like they didn’t deserve the whole world. Even if it wasn’t him that was able to give it to them, he still wanted them to be happy. That was all that mattered, right?

Then Cam’s smile slid into something a little more serious. A little more earnest. Jeff finished his coffee, sliding the cup to the side as he waited for them to collect their thoughts, knowing they would speak when they were ready.

“You make me want to be brave,” Cam said softly.

Well that was the last thing he expected. Those sweet simple words made his whole chest warm with happiness. He made them want to be brave? They were already so brave all on their own.

“Me?” Jeff asked, surprised.

But Cam just nodded, glancing over at him with their big blue eyes as they bit their bottom lip, and the look in their eyes made his heart start beating a little faster. Oh. Oh. Him?

“Me? Really?” he asked, a little breathless.

“Yeah, Jeff. Who else?” Cam said, cheeks flushing lightly.

Jeff inhaled sharply, reaching his hand across the kitchen counter to rest on theirs, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he felt like it would fly out. Was this what his sisters meant when they’d described how it felt when they fell in love? Was he finally getting his chance to love someone too? When Cam clutched his hand back, smiling back at him so sweetly and shyly, he knew he had his answer. This was Cam – his heart had fallen for them a long time ago.

“You make me want to be brave too.”

He knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. He knew that the two of them would face so many questions, so much scrutiny, and most likely so much hatred. But what Jeff knew most of all was that he wanted to try. Cam was worth that. Cam was worth everything.

*

“Hey Cap, do you mind if I bring my partner Cam to the end of season barbecue?”

“Cameron? Your neighbour? Of course bud, glad the two of you finally got your shit together. How is she?”

“They.”

“What?”

“They. Not she. And it’s Cam, not Cameron.”

“Huh. Okay, good to know. Do you want me to say anything to the guys?”

“No, I’m just going to introduce them as they are. If anyone is shitty, I’ll deal with it.”

“Alright bud, but let me know if you want any help. You’re not alone, okay? Either of you. I look forward to meeting Cam. And Jeff? I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. And, uh, thanks.”

“Any time.”

Baby steps.

[ghoulishria]

I loved her and didn't realize until years later...

You ever had a friend that you ended up falling in love with, not necessarily in a romantic way, but in a way that was "I want to be with you in every lifetime"?

Meeting Ashley didn't start off like that. I was working at my corporate job, and she was the newest addition to my department. The way our desks were set up, she sat in front me. I am a friendly person by nature, and she was around my age (unlike the older woman in my department). As we grew closer, we just kept clicking. Our jokes, the way we saw the world wasn't always the same, but I understood her. I loved being around her, having lunch with her. I had gotten married around that time, already had my child. She was also married, but no children. She loved fashion and taught me how to dress better basically. I grew as a person with her.

One day, she asked me if we could go on break together and she cried in my arms when she told me her husband's side chick went to her house to let her know her man was cheating. I held her as she cried and watched as she navigated life as a single woman. I remember times I would stay past my work hours and not tell my husband that I was at the bar, having a drink with her. I wanted to be near her, she was a dear friend to me. I remember fights with my husband, because I wasn't being present at home as a wife and mother. Individuals who are single with no kids live a different life. Their responsibilities are different. Trying to keep up with her and balancing my home life was not working.

Towards the end of my employment with the corporate office, I was having issues with management. As a team, our department went to HR (I was naive and didn't realize HR is really only to protect the company, not actually help the employees). In the end I was left under the supervision of a manager I did NOT like. While everyone accepted what had happened and was making the best of the situation, I was still trying to fight. It was unfair!

The last straw was when my manager at the time sat me down and had basically a timeline for every mistake, every time I went to my personal email, and I was essentially one mistake away from getting fired. My stress level was high, and I didn't even realize it until I got into a brawl at a traffic light with a random girl (that is a story for another time).

I ended up finding a new job and left (which, that process was also a mess). It felt like being fired, even though I left on my own. Ashley and I stopped talking, not because we weren't on good terms, but because I wasn't there all the time. Such can be relationships that develop at the workplace.

Between adjusting to a new job and eventually, Covid, I didn't have time to process all that had transpired in the 5 years I worked for that company and the grief that would eventually bubble up. I didn't really talk to Ashley much because I was ashamed, I felt like I downgraded. Working in corporate is a stuffy environment and it feels higher end than most places. Towards the end, Ashley started dating a new guy by the time I left so I knew her energy would be spent on him. Once I understood my workplace grief, I reached out to her towards the end of 2020. We talked briefly, but I could tell, the love I eventually realized I felt for her was not reciprocated.

To me, it seems not many people experience this kind of feeling, so I do not blame her. I don't think she never cared about me, but when people leave jobs sometimes the relationship fizzles out. Between our lifestyle differences and workplace differences, you can see how the relationship could fizzle out. I also am just bad at keeping up, but she never did either. In the last few years, I realized what I felt for her was a love that I could have foreseen lasting a lifetime. She was funny, charismatic, smart, goofy and many other things that I was not. When I think about her, it feels like I am missing an ex. An ex where it could have worked, but we were just two different people...and it didn't work.

I am writing this to no one and nothing. I've just had these feelings in my head for so long that I literally feel great to have them solidified somewhere. I like reading that I loved her. When I think about her, I miss her and wish we were super close. There is no point in reaching out now. Our last conversation easily told me we are in different places in life that will not intersect. I am okay with that. I deal with the grief, cherish it because it proves I really loved her. Whether or not she feels the same does not matter (although it would be so nice). I am thankful to have loved her at all.

[xxblackballoonxx]

The Heart Underneath: J&M Letters 4 (Ch. 22)

***This fic is being posted simultaneously on FanFiction.net and Ao3. I originally began it in 2016, and then life was life, and now I’m bringing it back because it deserves to be finished! Rating M as of Chapter 10 ***

Chapter 21: December 1915 Chapter 23 THU Masterlist

This will be a two parter ... you know I need it as much as you!

The Heart Underneath

Chapter 22: J&M Letters 4 (19 and 21)

May 22, 1916

Dear John,

It's late here. The whole house is asleep, including Will, who's been kicking up a fuss the past few days. The baby hasn't arrived yet and I'm so tired. I know I'm supposed to write positive letters, but I'm tired, John. I'm tired, and lonely, and I miss you more than ever. I wish you were here. Maybe the baby would make an appearance if their daddy was here to meet them. 

Polly says it's normal for a baby to be late, and she said you were late, too. Clearly both children are taking after you already, with the Shelby stubborn gene. Will has been throwing around his food at supper every night, much to Finn’s delight. It’s sweet seeing him form a bond with Will, it’s almost like they’re brothers. And I can use it to my advantage to make Finn help me. He asks everyday when the baby is coming, and then asks about where babies come from. I nominate you for that conversation. 

It's been too long since we've seen each other, love. I hope your leave gets sorted soon. I hate that we're separated and that we don't spend every day together. I hate that you have to miss seeing Will grow and I hate that you aren't safe. I’m sure I’ll feel more positive once this baby is born, but right now, I just want you here. 

Please come home when you can. We need you. 

We love you always,

Mar, Will, and Late Baby #2

John sighed and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly as he read Martha’s letter. He could hear the desperation and sadness in her words. She usually was a positive person, so he knew she was really struggling if she’d written this letter and then actually sent it.

His leave, which should have happened in March, had gotten pushed back twice already. He was tired of it all. Tired of the trenches, tired of the mud, tired of the terrible food. His regiment had rotated to the back of the lines a few days before, and they sat in a tent city, doing nothing but resting up for the next rotation back to the front lines. 

John read the letter one more time and then made up his mind. He was going to ask for his leave. Firmly. Respectfully. But he was going to get it. He had been promoted again to Corporal a few months earlier and it was time to take advantage of his standing of an officer.

Ten minutes later, John stood outside of Captain Moore’s tent, waiting to be ushered in. After a few minutes, the Captain’s aide motion him to enter and he stepped inside carefully. The Captain sat at his desk, piles of paper stacked across the surface, as he seemed to be searching for something in particular. John waited for him to speak.

“Corporal Shelby, is it?” Captain Moore said, finally looking up from the paper pile.

“Yes, Captain.” John replied, standing tall.

“What can I do for you, Corporal?”

“Captain, sir. I was supposed to have my leave in March and then last month, but it was delayed a second time.” 

Captain Moore studied John for a moment. The whispers across the camp about the Shelby brothers had made it to his ear, and he was intrigued by their grit. All three brothers had taken on leadership roles within the regiment and the men respected them.

“Go on, Corporal.”

“Sir. My wife is expecting our second child, due this month. From the letter I received this morning, the baby has not arrived yet. I would like my leave so that I can go home and see my family.”

John watched as Captain Moore sighed and leaned back. He’d had men asking for weeks about their scheduled leaves, and he secretly wished he could give them all leave, as much as possible. But this was the Army, and this was war, and he couldn’t do that. Still, the officers has been promised leave every 3 months, and his entire regiment was late. 

The Captain looked at the young officer in front of him. Too young. The amount of young men England had already lost was a detail that did not go unnoticed, especially among the older officers. He’d heard about Corporal Shelby’s wife from other Small Heath men. A young mother, beautiful and kind. Deeply committed to the Corporal. The couple had been the talk of the town for years. The Captain thought about his own family, and how difficult it would’ve been to be separated from his wife while she had been carrying their children.

“I understand, Corporal. My third child was quite late to arrive, caused my wife tremendous anxiety while trying to care for the older two. I will grant your leave request. You should be just in time to catch a transport to Boulogne. With luck, you’ll reach Birmingham tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, Captain, sir. I will not forget it.” John replied, letting out the breath he had been holding.

The Captain’s aide wrote up the leave papers and the Captain signed it, smiling at John as he handed it over.

“Congratulations on your second child, Corporal. I’m sure your family will be thrilled to see you.” 

John smiled and then saluted before turning on his heel to exit the tent. He practically ran back to the tent to gather his pack and tell his brothers.  

************************************************************************

John had been traveling for nearly twenty four hours, with little sleep and little food. The transport to Boulogne had been a long, bumpy ride, followed by rough seas in the Channel that made him feel ill. After multiple train connections, he was finally in Birmingham, just a few stops from Small Heath.

He touched his left jacket pocket, tapping the tin that he carried with him. In it was the picture of him and Martha from their wedding, the green hair ribbon from her 16th birthday, a selection of her letters. The representation of his reason to get through the war, to make it back to his family.  On his left pinky finger was the gold ring that Martha had given him, next to his wedding band. The items were his Bible, his religion. Every soldier had talismans that they carried for protection. These were his. 

Martha was never far away in his mind, she always seemed to be there when he looked down at his rings, when he touched the tin, when he read her letters. He would see her hair blowing in the wind in his dreams, wake up in a cold trench to the scent of her wedding perfume. Sometimes he would hear her voice, or feel her hand against his cheek, just as he woke. He knew somehow that she was there, that her soul was with him.

The train slowed and John looked up from deep thought to see that they had pulled into Small Heath. The platform was relatively quiet, and he hurried from the station towards Watery Lane. He didn’t want to take the chance of running into anyone, the only thing on his mind was getting to Martha and Will.

He slowed as he approached the Shelby front door, removing his hat to run a hand through his hair. He was sure he looked a mess, but nothing could be done about that. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. It was strange, to knock on your own front door. After a minute, John heard the locks slide and the door opened.

Martha looked up and stepped backwards slightly, in shock. John was standing on the other side, hat in hand. She immediately burst into tears, leaning against the wall, hand against her middle. John stepped inside and took her in his arms the best he could, somewhat shocked himself at how pregnant she actually was. He hadn’t witnessed this stage yet, and he could see why she was so desperate for the baby to be born.

“I’m here, love, I’m with you now. I’m here.” John whispered into her hair.

Martha sobbed into his shoulder, gripping the back of his neck. She hadn’t been able to sleep through the night in weeks, pacing to relieve back pain, rocking Will to sleep, or lying awake and thinking of John. She had begged whatever higher power there was to send him home for a visit, pleaded to have him with her for just a little while. 

John pulled back and put a hand to her face, wiping away the tears that were still streaming down. He looked into the green eyes he loved so much, glassy with tears. Martha looked back at him, grey blue gaze, the little wink he gave her, the small smile. The steady strength coursing from his hands into her body. She felt a kick against her ribs and took his other hand and placed it against the upper part of her bump. The baby kicked again and John smiled, rubbing his hand gently against the fabric of her dress.

“I’m here for you, little one. It’s time to come meet us. Give your Mummy a little break.” John whispered as he knelt down.

Ada came running to find Martha and John in the hall, front door wide open. John’s head resting against Martha’s stomach, looking up at her as her long blonde hair cascading down around him.

She choked back tears at the sight. It was the rarest kind of love and Ada felt both blessed and cursed to be witness.

Remember this.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Absentee

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Y/N fell in love with Jason Todd, she didn’t realize the normalcy she lost would become such a problem in their relationship. And she didn’t know how much pain it would cause to hide her boyfriend’s secrets. 

Word Count: 4,600 – One Shot

A/N: This is probably a really personal story. And you all might hate it or not relate to it. But oh well...

Y/N had her music playing in her headphones just quietly enough so she could hear them announce when her plane was boarding.

Between corporate holidays and what was left of her vacation days for the year, she was able to go home for a week and a half.

Only, she was hoping that this year she wouldn’t be going home alone.

But when Jason got sucked into a case two weeks before their flight back to her hometown, she knew there was no way he’d be accompanying her.  

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just–“ Jason had tried to tell her when she realized they weren’t going to be spending the holidays together.

“You don’t have to apologize. There are more important things right now than meeting my crazy family,” Y/N laughed lightly. “But they’ll be bummed.”

Jason still looked so down guiltily. He knew that Y/N had been downplaying how excited she was for her family to meet him.

Yeah, Y/N was upset, but her family was even more upset. Being in a different part of the country and them never putting in the effort to visit her, they had yet to meet Jason. Even when the two of them had been dating for 10 months.

Y/N had met all of Jason’s brothers, along with Bruce and Alfred. It had all been against his will, his family strategically running into them or invading his apartment when they knew Y/N would be there. Jason acted annoyed by it, but Y/N knew he was happy for her to meet them and without him having to act like he cared.

But Jason had only ever waved on FaceTime to her family or sometimes answered calls from them when Y/N left her phone next to him and went to another room.

It wasn’t like Y/N needed her family’s approval. She knew what she wanted and what was best for her. Their opinions didn’t hold as much weight with her as they thought.

But Y/N also had never introduced her family to a boyfriend before. Things either fizzled out before then or the relationship was so casual that the thought of even mentioning a boy-toy’s name in passing to her family made her want to jump out a window.

———

“So Jason couldn’t get out of work last minute?” Y/N’s older sister, Kate, asked as they drove to her house after picking her up from arrivals.

And so it began.

“No,” Y/N answered. “His boss is sort of an asshole. He’s a workaholic and can’t fathom why anyone else would ever be anything different.”

The truth was that Jason didn’t really have a job. When it came to income, Jason was resourceful. He was still a hitman for hire. But once the killing part of that job stopped – which was long before Y/N ever met him – it didn’t rake in as much money. Most of his money was either stolen from criminals or he would work odd jobs here and there.

However, the lie Jason and Y/N had agreed on was that he was a mechanic. And Jason did know absolutely everything there was to know about cars and motorcycles. He’d even promised Y/N that if she ever decided she wanted him to drop the vigilante life, he would do just that and start his own mechanic shop. But Y/N knew better than to ever ask that of him.

“Cars don’t stop breaking – even around the holidays,” Y/N joked darkly.

“Mhmm,” her sister answered.

Y/N already knew what her family thought of her boyfriend’s “job”: it wasn’t good enough for them.

The only reason they let it slide was because they knew Bruce Wayne was his adoptive father. Therefore they interpreted Jason’s ‘lack of ambition’ as his personal rebellion against his privilege and upbringing.

“Mom said he sent flowers and a bottle of wine to the house today and apologized for not being able to make it,” Kate added.

Y/N quickly looked at her in surprise.

“So I’m guessing from your reaction that it wasn’t your idea,” Kate teased.

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “He didn’t even tell me he did that.”

That was a Bruce Wayne move for sure. It didn’t matter that Jason had a rocky relationship with him, the Wayne charm and manners were deceivingly contagious.

————

Later that night, when everyone was in bed and Y/N decided to finally unpack. And she was surprised to find two of Jason’s t-shirts hidden in her bag. They were her favorites of his, always stealing them. Mostly she wore them to lounge around the apartment or to wear to bed. But her favoritism was in no way hidden.

Jason must’ve snuck them in her bag while she wasn’t looking.

Y/N smiled as she grabbed one of the shirts and raised it to her nose. It still smelled like him.

It was enough to make her feel guilty for not having called him yet. She’d texted him that she landed, but other than that, she’d been pretty silent.

She grabbed her cell and dialed.

“Hey, you.”

He always answered her calls as if they made his day, even if she’d called him multiple times that day already. His reaction to her calls never failed to make Y/N smile.

“I didn’t really expect you to pick up,” Y/N admitted.

“Always got time for you,” he answered lightly.

But then she heard background noise: wind blowing, distant sirens, people shouting at each other nearby.

Jason was on patrol. Or maybe he was doing some recon. 

But Y/N knew not to ask. 

“I see some of your clothes made the trip,” Y/N commented through a smile. Jason could hear the smile in her voice. “Those t-shirts have a mind of their own…”

“And my mom thought the flowers and card were sweet,” she added.

“I might not have met her yet, but I know that’s not gonna be enough to win her over,” Jason answered darkly.

Y/N didn’t say anything, because they both knew he was right.

“Flight was fine?” Jason asked, changing the subject.

“Mhmm.”

“I miss you.”

Y/N shook her head and laughed. “No, you don’t. I’ve been gone for like 12 hours.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She rolled her eyes. “Always the romantic.”

More sirens could be heard. They sounded closer this time. “Are you being careful?” All playfulness had disappeared from her voice.

“Of course.”

Y/N sighed. “Jason, I’m serious. Please, be safe.”

“I know. I know. Don’t worry about me.”

“You know that’s not gonna happen, J.”

He ignored her comment. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

————————

To say Y/N’s time at home was rough…was an understatement.

If Y/N wasn’t being asked a million questions about Jason, she was being interrogated for why he wasn’t there. And if Jason wasn’t the subject of the conversation, people acted like she was single – some even talking about setting her up.

Y/N realized she preferred the former.

Every year, her family threw a giant party.

And for the past five years, Y/N had always been the only one that was single. All of her siblings, all of her cousins, all of their family friends, all of their neighbors…every single one of them had a significant other during those years. 

Everyone...except her. Now, this year, all of them had kids or were expecting.

It was exhausting. 

Sometimes Y/N felt like they were all robots programmed to do the exact same things at the exact same time –  no original thought to be had.

Y/N would be lying if she didn’t spend most of the party wishing Jason was at her side. He would make fun of awkward situations with her. And he would stick up for her when her family teased her a little too much.

The other thing Y/N wasn’t prepared for was unintentionally studying  her family’s boyfriends or husbands. She felt like she was watching everyone’s relationships through a different lens now that she herself had her own. And to put it as kindly as possible…she was not impressed.

Y/N noticed how none of the men offered to help in the kitchen, instead deciding to sit on the couch and watch football and scream at the television. Or how when her cousin handed her son to her husband, and he acted like he didn’t even know how to hold the one year old. And later, when his diaper needed to be changed, he handed him back to his wife as if he had no idea how to do it himself.

Yet her family was stuck on Jason not being able to visit or that he was a mechanic.

What did someone’s job matter if they treated her like she was their world and he the best thing to ever happen to her?

If Jason were here, he would be in the kitchen cooking. And if they had a kid, it would be a 50/50 job – not a burden only Y/N had to bare. He would try to get to know everyone because he would want to know the people who raised the woman he loved. He’d make sure to check in on Y/N every once in awhile, making sure she didn’t need anything. 

Thinking about it all made Y/N miss Jason even more.

Needing to get some air, she decided to go outside and let the winter chill refresh her. It had been getting too hot in the house.

Y/N pulled her phone out of her back pocket and tapped Jason’s name.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi,” she sighed.

Just hearing his voice made her feel a bit better and tension left her body.

“What’s wrong?” Jason quickly asked.

“Nothing. Just…wanted to check in.”

For a second, she was going to explain that she had the sudden realization that all the men connected to her family were trash. And witnessing it was making her miss him more. But she didn’t really want to waste her breath and she figured she’d just come off dramatic more than sincere.

“Are you at your apartment?” She asked quickly.

“Yeah, I’m gonna leave for patrol in a bit…”

Then Y/N’s mind suddenly thought, ‘Fuck it.’

“Jason?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“If you were here…” She began softly.

“Mhmm,” he encouraged.

“What would you be doing?”

Jason was a bit confused by the question for a second. But he slowly got what she was asking.

“Well,” he took in a shallow breath. “I would’ve stolen Alfred’s famous chocolate chip cookie recipe and whipped up those bad boys to bring over. And I’d pretend to care about football with your dad.”

That made Y/N laugh.

“I’d help your mom in the kitchen, even when she pretended not to want it.”

“Really laying it on thick, huh?”

But Y/N knew he was right. Jason was the cook between the two of them – and a good one, too. He also was a helper. He couldn’t sit back and watch someone do something while he did nothing. No matter how big or small.

“Shhh,” Jason reprimanded and then continued. “But most importantly, I’d try to get as many embarrassing stories about you as I possibly could.”

“Well, thank goodness you’re not here then,” she teased with a roll of her eyes.

Jason was quiet a second before he asked, “Wanna tell me what’s wrong now?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Just miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“All my family’s boyfriends and husbands are losers. And I guess I’m just now realizing it.”

“Ahh,” Jason noted.

Now he really knew why she’d asked her question.

“It’s snowing here,” he told her as he looked out the window. “It’s almost making Gotham look pretty.”

“Are you going to the manor for Christmas?”

“Probably not,” Jason answered.

“Jason,” she grumbled. “What are you going to do instead? Sit in your apartment alone?”

“I’m gonna patrol. Crime doesn’t take holidays, Y/N.”

“Cheesy,” she pointed out. “Please be with your family, Jason. I don’t want you to be alone. OK?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Y/N knew that was as good as it was going to get.

Then she felt something on her cheek and she looked up. “Hey, it just started snowing here, too…” She told him with her head tilted back.

“I love you,” he sighed.

“I love you, too. Be careful tonight, Jason.”

Y/N gave herself a few more moments outside before returning to the party.

When she walked back inside, she immediately heard her name. But no one was calling to her. 

She was being talked about. 

She recognized her mom and sister’s voices, and then a couple of her aunts. They were talking around the corner, completely unaware that Y/N was in hearing distance.

So Y/N couldn’t help but linger.

“She says he works a lot. Every time I facetime her, he’s never there,” her sister Kate told the women. “I wouldn’t even really know what he looked like if it weren’t for her photos that she’s sent me. He doesn’t have any social media.”

“I just can’t believe he couldn’t get work off. Around the holidays?” Her mom added in utter disbelief. “Sounds like it won’t be surprising when she finds out he’s been unfaithful,” one her aunts commented.

The group hummed in agreement, but also disappointment. 

“He doesn’t even live in Metropolis. He lives in Gotham,” her mother supplied, only further backing the idea that Jason wasn’t committed. “God knows why. But I hate that Y/N is constantly going there. No good news comes from that city.”

Y/N clenched her teeth in anger.

If only they knew the truth about Jason. 

He was a hero and risked his life every night for an entire city – a city that had done nothing but hurt him. And he was 20 times the man than any of the men in their family.

She just wanted to scream at them for being so judgmental about a person they’d never even met.

But she couldn’t.

So Y/N stormed up to her childhood bedroom and decided she had enough of the party.

She shouldn’t have come home for the holidays. She would’ve rather waited for Jason to get back from his Red Hood work than listen to her family misjudge the first man she ever truly loved and wanted to share with them.

————————

Y/N was so tired when she got off the plane.

She felt like a zombie as she walked to baggage claim to grab her duffle.

What she wasn’t expecting was to find her boyfriend waiting for her in arrivals.

Y/N had told him she would just get a car.

But Jason seemed to have other ideas.

Y/N’s entire face brightened at the sight of him.

She practically ran to him and jumped into his arms.

Jason chuckled at her enthusiasm.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her words muffled by his body.

“I thought I’d surprise you,” Jason said through a smile before he kissed her head.

Y/N didn’t respond, just held him tightly.

“Come on. Let’s get your bag and head home,” he finally told her.

—

“So, how was it?” Jason asked once they got into his car. Y/N shrugged, “It was fine.”

Her lack of details and curt response was enough warning for Jason to realize things were not totally fine between them.

He didn’t bother asking for more details during the car ride home. Instead, he answered all her questions about what he had been up to, how the case was going, if his family was alright.

Once they got back to Y/N’s apartment in Metropolis, the grace period seemed to be over.

Y/N had grown quiet as she moved around her apartment, unpacking and putting all her things away.

Jason walked into her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed as she folded clean clothes. “This might be a shot in the dark. But I can’t help but feel that you’re not happy with me,” he finally pointed out.

She didn’t answer or look at him, just kept folding.

“Did something happen while you were at home?” Jason pushed.

She still didn’t answer. So Jason reached for her hands, holding them gently.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I just didn’t expect how hard it was going to be…” she finally whispered with a bowed head.

“What would be?”

“Just going home without you,” she explained.

“Did something happening?”

“I mean, kinda? Not really. They just…” she hesitated. Did she really want to confess all of this to him? She knew it would only hurt him. "They think you’re a bad boyfriend.”

Jason just nodded slowly.

He should’ve seen this coming. Of course her family didn’t think he was good enough. How could they think anything different?

“I’m just…fucking frustrated,” Y/n groaned. “I knew what I was getting into when you told me about your other life and who you really were. I was willing to keep your secret and protect it. I just never thought about how hard it would be keeping it from my family.”

She shook her head. “They think you’re not committed or something. And that…that you’re probably cheating on me.”

The idea of him ever doing that her made Jason sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Jason mumbled.

“What?” Y/N gasped. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But I have,” he argued. “I put you in this position.”

“No, I did. I did when I fell in love with you,” she clarified.

“But I don’t want you lying to the people you love.”

“I’m not telling you this because I’m mad at you or blame you, Jason. I’m trying to tell you why I’m frustrated.”

She rubbed her face. “I just want them to know what an amazing person you are...and how brave and selfless. How you take care of me and love me and…and protect me.” Her eyes began to water. “They’re never gonna know the real you…even when they do meet you. And I fucking hate it.”

“So what if you told them?” Jason offered.

Her eyes widened at that. “Jason…”

“I’m serious. What if you told them?”

She thought about it. But she already knew the answer.

“It wouldn’t do any good. If I told them, then they’d be worried about me. Worried that your other life was putting me in danger. Worried that I would get pulled into it.”

Jason knew she was right.

Her family probably preferred an absentee boyfriend over a vigilante.

“But I see how the shitty men that have joined my family are. And you’re nothing like them. You’re so much better. And they’ll never even know.”

“Come here,” Jason muttered before he pulled her to him.

He let her body sink into his as he held her.

“I’ll do anything you want,” he whispered as he rubbed her back. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I always wondered what it would be like to finally been in a relationship – to just have someone on my team no matter what. I went to all those family gatherings thinking I’d never have it. And once I did, once I found you…” Her thoughts died out. “I just never expected it to be this way.”

“Do you regret it?” Jason asked as he pulled away to look in her eyes.

Her brow furrowed. “Regret what?”

“Being with me. Falling in love with me.”

Her heart broke at the question. “Oh, Jason. Of course not. Never.”

“What if I stopped?” He asked.

“No. I would never ask that of you,” she quickly shot down.

“I’d do it for you,” he tried to argue.

“I know you would. But I’m not asking. Because I know what it would do to you. Every time you’d see something in the news, you’d hate yourself. Because you would convince yourself that you could’ve stopped it. And maybe you would be right.” She took in a deep breath. “Red Hood isn’t just something you do. He’s a part of you. And even though I worry about you constantly, I’m never gonna tell you to stop.”

Jason took his time in reading her face.

“OK?” She pushed.

He nodded.

Then he embraced her once again.

“I’m sorry you have to keep my secrets,” he breathed into her hair.

————————————

Y/N walked into Jason’s apartment.

It was a Friday night and they agreed to have her come to his place this weekend.

Jason was always weary of her coming to Gotham, preferring her to stay in the safety of Metropolis.

He knew they couldn’t do the distance forever, and eventually they’d move into together. But he wasn’t ready to leave Gotham yet. And he didn’t want Y/N to lowering herself to such a city.

“J!” Y/N called when she walked in.

He had given her keys to his apartment quite early in their relationship, and told her she was welcome at his place any time. However, he wasn’t a fan of her getting there after dark. Gotham was Gotham, and he didn’t like her wandering around the city by herself just in order to give him a surprise visit.

An envelope on Jason’s kitchen counter caught her attention.

She nosily looked at it and saw that they were plane tickets to her hometown with both of their names on each of them.  

She heard Jason walk up behind her. “What’s this?”

“A surprise,” he shrugged.

“What do you mean?” She laughed.

“We’re gonna visit your family,” he explained casually. “I called your mom and sister to find a weekend that worked.”

Y/N was shocked to silence.

“I know I fucked up when I couldn’t go with you during the holidays. I know this isn’t gonna solve everything. But I figured…it’s start.” Before he could say more, Y/N threw her arms around him.

————

Jason Todd knew how to throw on the charm. And no matter how thick he laid it on, it always felt sincere.

Y/N smiled as she watched her boyfriend interacting with her family.

He knew so much about each of them already, that he knew exactly what to talk about with every one of them.

For their long-weekend visit, they had decided to stay with her sister.

Jason knew she would be the hardest to win over and was the most protective over Y/N. He made it his personal mission to befriend her and show her how much he loved her little sister.

Y/N never said so, but Jason knew how important it was to her that Kate approved of him.

However, Jason hadn’t been able to have a conversation alone with her all weekend.

Until their last morning there.

Y/N was still sleeping when Jason had made his way to the kitchen.

He figured he could make Kate and her husband breakfast after housing them for a long weekend. And he made sure to start a pot of coffee while he was at it.

Halfway through making his specialty waffles, Kate walked into the kitchen rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted, clearly surprised to find Jason cooking in her kitchen.

“Morning,” Jason greeted.

“This is a surprise,” she said as she looked around the kitchen.

“There’s coffee if you want some.”

“T-Thanks…” she managed to mutter. “Do you need some help?”

“Nope. I got it. You just relax.”

Kate seemed to be unsure of how to behave when she was alone with her little sister’s boyfriend, and eventually sat on the kitchen stool with her coffee.

“Do you cook a lot?” She finally broke the silence with her question.

“I enjoy it,” he answered with a shrug. “I figured it’s the least I can do for you guys putting us up.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Jason.”

He continued cooking.

Kate figured this was her opportunity to get to know Jason – and not just through Y/N’s eyes. So, she started asking him question after question, and he seemed happy to answer them. Kate was surprised to find out about Jason’s traumatic childhood, making him realize that Y/N must’ve only shared his relation to Bruce Wayne and nothing more about his life before becoming an adopted Wayne.

Jason wasn’t surprised Y/N kept that part of his life to herself. She was protective of him that way. She always felt like his past was his story to tell, not hers.

“I know missing the holidays didn’t leave the best impression,” Jason told her after they’d been talking for awhile.

“You really mean a lot to Y/N. And your opinion matters more to her than you might think,” he added as he crossed his arms.

Kate seemed a little taken aback by how unafraid he was of confrontation.

He seemed more mature for his age – maybe for hers, even.

“I know I’m not going to win any of you over from just a single trip,” Jason continued. “But I’m going to work my ass off to make sure I get there.”

Kate smiled at that.

“I love her,” he told her quietly, but with determination. “She’s…Well, she’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Then he smirked. “And I’m not dumb enough to do anything to fuck things up with her.”

He took in a shallow breath. “I just…I just needed you to know that.”

Kate’s heart swelled from hearing her little sister’s boyfriend confessing his love for Y/N.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she whispered, trying to stop herself from crying. “I worry about her. And I hate that she’s so far away sometimes. I miss her.”

“She misses you, too,” Jason assured her.

“Thank you for taking care of her. I’m suddenly realizing you’re the only reason she’s eating anything that’s not out of a takeout container.”

Jason laughed. “I plead the fifth.”

Before any more could be said, Y/N walked into the kitchen as if she was sleep walking.

“Well, look who it is…” Jason teased.

Y/N walked to him silently, clearly wanting cuddles.

Jason chuckled at her, but gave her what she wanted. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. He had kept the PDA at an absolute minimum while he had been around Y/N’s family. But he couldn’t help it when Y/N was her sleepy and adorable self.

“You sleep OK?” He tried to whisper to her.

But Kate still heard it and pretended to look down at her phone.

Y/N nodded into his neck, making him chuckle at her more.

This was new for Kate, seeing her sister being loved and loving someone. Her instinct was to say it made her uncomfortable. But it was just something she wasn’t used to.

Soon Kate’s husband woke up and they all ate breakfast together.

And a few hours later, Y/N and Jason were packed and their was a Lyft was waiting outside to take them to the airport.

Jason hugged Kate and her husband and thanked them for hosting them. Then he grabbed Y/N’s bags and gave her a moment alone with her sister as he took their stuff to the car.

“I think I owe the two of you an apology…” Kate told her little sister.

“You do?”

“I think I judged him a bit too much before really giving him a chance.”

Y/N winced, but nodded. “Yeah, you did, actually.”

“He really loves you.”

Y/N smiled. “He does.”

“I just want you to be happy, you know that right?”

“I know. But sometimes you think that what makes you happy is what would make me happy. Our lives are different. And we want different things. Just because my relationship looks different than yours doesn’t mean it’s worse in some way.”

Kate nodded sadly, knowing her sister was right. “I get that now.”

-----------

A/N: I was inspired to write this when I thought about how my own family would react to me having a boyfriend like Jason Todd: a man who was secretly a vigilante and had a past too hard for anyone to ever imagine. Hopefully, other people can relate to this and it wasn’t too personal. 😬

Let me know what you thought!!!

[yamayuandadu]

Pride Month special: Manzat, the deified rainbow and her LGBT connection

Considering June is the Pride Month, I've decided to dedicate this month's first article to a rainbow-related topic too. Below the cut you can learn everything there is to know about the Mesopotamian goddess of the rainbow, Manzat (also spelled Mazziat, Manziat, Mazzet etc.) - her origin, role ascribed to her by ancient authors, associated deities and more. As promised by the title, the final section of the article deals with a text mentioning Manzat, which is, as far as I can tell, the oldest documented association between the rainbow and LGBT themes.

Manzat isn't exactly an A list goddess. Even calling her a B list one would be a stretch. Indeed, she's so obscure that we know more about many attendant deities than about her. She nonetheless is attested in many different sources, found in areas between the ancient states of Mari (in present day Syria) and Elam (in present day Iran). Manzat most likely has her origin among Akkadians in ancient Mesopotamia. Her name is pretty self explanatory – if written without the symbol known as “divine determinative” in front of it, it's simply the Akkadian term for the regular rainbow. While a Sumerian form of the name is known as well – Tir-anna (“Bow of heaven”) – the fact it appears to be a pun based on Akkadian homonyms (the sign used to write “Tir”means “forest” in Sumerian but was pronounced close to the Akkadian word for bow leading to such an usage in some Sumerian texts) makes it unlikely it arose naturally.

Between Elam and Mesopotamia

Curiously, it seems that despite Akkadian origin she was actually most popular in Elam, to the east of the Tigris. The first mention of her known today comes from the treaty of Naram-sin, king of Sumer and Akkad, with an unspecified ruler of a part of Elam, where she appears among the deities serving as its witnesses, alongside the crème de la crème of the Elamite pantheon – Pinikir, Humban (likely a “king of the gods” figure like Mesopotamian Enlil, venerated well into Persian times when parallels can be drawn about the cults of him and “Auramazda” - an early, not necessarily fully Zoroastrian form of Ahura Mazda), Inshushinak (the tutelary god of Susa who judged the dead) and so on. It needs to be pointed out that Manzat's “career” in Elam isn't a unique situation. While the Elamite language wasn't related to Sumerian or Akkadian – or to any other known language, living or extinct, for that matter – a number of Elamite gods have names borrowed from these two languages. In addition to Manzat, these include Lagamal (Akkadian - “no mercy,” an underworld deity), Ishmekarab (Akkadian - “hears the prayer,” a law deity) and Inshushinak (Sumerian - “Lord of Susa,” associated with both Lagamal and Ishmekarab). All of them appear in Mesopotamian texts too, but didn't have quite the same relevance there as in Elam. In turn the Elamite god Simut was adopted by the Mesopotamians as a personification of Mars and the goddess Pinikir became somewhat of an international sensation, showing up as far as west as in Anatolia, for example in the Hittite Yazilikaya sanctuary, possibly as a personification of Venus. While early researchers viewed Pinikir as a mother goddess, and this claim still shows up here and there today, renowned experts such as hittitologist Gary Beckman and archaeologist Kamyar Abdi, who studied this goddess in depth, demonstrated she was instead an “Ishtar type” deity. It's also possible the god Tishpak has his roots in Elam, though some scholars instead see him as a reflection of the Hurrian weather god Teshub instead.

The worship of Manzat

Sadly, there are no known myths about Manzat. What little we know about her comes mostly from sources concerned more with cultic than mythical affairs. For example records show that Manzat was reasonably popular as a deity invoked in theophoric names, both Akkadian and Elamite. Examples include Manzat-ili (“Manzat is my god”), Manzat-ummi (“Manzat is my mother”) and “Danum-Manzat” (“Manzat is mighty”). A number of shrines and temples of Manzat are recorded: in Mesopotamia in Nippur and Babylon (four shrines in that city alone), and in Elam in Susa, Hubshen ( present day Deh-e Now) and as a part of the famous Choga Zanbil site (the first photo in this article is a modern reconstruction). It seems in Elam she was often worshiped alongside the already mentioned Simut, and some researchers propose they were a couple; evidence from the Mesopotamian city of Der appears to indicate she was viewed as the wife of the local head god Ishtaran (no relation to Ishtar) there. However, the god list An-Anum doesn't list any husband in its brief Manzat section – only an otherwise completely unknown son, Lugalgidda, and a sukkal (vizier, second in comman), Sililitum. Sililitum's name is Akkadian, but appears to be the name of a month in the Elamite calendar as well. Ishtaran has no wife in this god lists, and some sources simply call his spouse “Šarrat-Der(i)” - “queen of Der.” One curious Elamite inscription refers to Manzat as “Manzat-Ishtar” - this doesn't necessarily indicate a conflation between her and the superstar of Mesopotamian mythology, though. It's possible that in this case “Ishtar” means an ishtar without the capital I: in some text, “ishtar” is a generic term for goddesses, not even necessarily of the “Ishtar type.” Examples of such usage of this term can even be found in Epic of Gilgamesh (tablet XI). No other sources associate Manzat directly with Ishtar – the latter's Elamite equivalent was Pinikir; as I’ll demonstrate later she was associated with another “Ishtar type” goddess though. It's possible that a goddess hiding behind the Akkadian title “Belet Ali” - “lady of the city” - was one and the same as Manzat. The fact that the enigmatic “Belet Ali” was associated with Simut in Elam strengthens this impression. A number of epithets are attested in god lists, among them “Lady of the regulations of heaven,” “Companion of heaven”   and “She who makes the city flourish.” Almost all of them highlight her nature as a celestial deity.

Astronomical role

Manzat's Sumerian name Tiranna – but seemingly not her Akkadian name – was also used to refer to an unidentified star. According to Gods, Demons and Symbols of Ancient Mesopotamia: An Illustrated Dictionary by J. Black and A. Green (p. 153, the Rainbow entry) horse head under a “gate” symbol present on some kudurru (Mesopotamian border markers) represents this star, but I can't find this claim anywhere else.

The horse head symbol on a kudurru (British Museum)

Manzat, Nanaya and the promised LGBT themes

While this is technically almost all there is to know about Manzat, the story doesn't end here. As I promised, I will now introduce a text which associated the rainbow – well, Manzat, to be specific, rather than the general idea of rainbows, but the point stands  – with broadly understood LGBT themes. The discussed text is a hymn to the goddess Nanaya. Nanaya was either a hyposthasis of Inanna/Ishtar, part of her entourage, or an independent but similar deity, and was first and foremost a goddess of love, including its corporeal and sensual aspect. In some hymns Inanna/Ishtar “tutored” Nanaya.

King Meli-Shipak and his daughter praying to Nanaya on a kudurru (wikimedia commons)

A reclining goddess, identified as a possible late depiction of Nanaya here (Louvre) The composition in mention a type of exaltation, praising the author's deity of choice by comparing their attributes to these of other gods. In the case of exaltation texts dedicated to Marduk this is often erroneously viewed as “monotheism” in sources of dubious quality, but that's not quite what's happening there. The purpose of such texts was to present the object of personal devotion as particularly grand and significant in the divine hierarchy by comparing their traits to these of other gods (eg. at mot henotheism, not monotheism); they are also not exclusive to Marduk, and they don't deny the existence of a multitude of gods (the famous Marduk exaltation still mentions his wife Sarpanit independently for example) According to the discussed tex Nanaya, to put it colloquially, swings both ways:

This passage was identified as referring to sexual matters already in the 1970s (A Sumero-Akkadian Hymn of Nanâ by E. Reiner, p. 233-234; the article is somewhat dated but a link can nonetheless be found in the bibliography). In an earlier strophe Nanaya states that she can take a male form (as a side note Reiner regards the form with “heavy breasts” as unusual for her):

While exaltation of a specific deity could include both gods and goddesses as their “aspects” (exaltation of Marduk included the goddess of victory Irnina among deities compared to him), in this case the mention of a bearded god is connected to a certain degree of fluidity of gender associated with many “Ishtar type” goddesses, especially with the Hurrian Shaushka. For Nanaya it's pretty uncommon, as far as I know appearing only in this single extraordinary text, and even here a result of association with her more famous “mentor” Ishtar  – but the point stands. In the rest of the hymn, goddesses Nanaya identifies herself with are enumerated. These include all the usual suspects (like various forms of Ishtar, important city goddesses, etc.), but also Manzat, here identified as the goddess of Der. Since the text describes Nanaya as – if you squint - interested in both men and women and perhaps genderfluid, it's pretty safe to say this is the oldest recorded association between the rainbow and lgbt themes, even though it has nothing to do with modern use of this symbol. If nothing else, it would be funny to bring this up next time someone claims the use of rainbow as a symbol of the LGBT community is “inappropriate” due to its biblical connotations – Manzat and Nanaya, while irrelevant today even by the standards of Mesopotamian deities, are after all figures of even greater antiquity. Happy Pride Month, everyone.

Bibliography

Manziʾat entry in Reallexikon der Assyriologie und vorderasiatischen Archäologie by W. G. Lambert is the source of most of the information in this article

Goddesses in Context: On Divine Powers, Roles, Relationships and Gender in Mesopotamian Textual and Visual Sources by J. M. Asher-Greve and J. G. Westenholz

Gods, Demons and Symbols of Ancient Mesopotamia: An Illustrated Dictionary by J. Black and A. Green

The Other Gods who are: Studies in Elamite-Iranian Acculturation Based on the Persepolis Fortification Texts by W. F. M. Henkelman

Elamite Temple Building by D. T. Potts

A Sumero-Akkadian Hymn of Nanâ by E. Reiner

Elamite Religion in Encyclopaeda Iranica

For more sources regarding Nanaya, other “Ishtar type” goddesses and their possible genderfluid character see my previous articles here, here and here.

[heytherejulietx]

The Office - Bughead

Masterlists

Requests open (ONLY for Bughead)!

Read on AO3 here!

Notes - Ahh I’m so excited to post this one! This fic is for an April writing challenge by @writers-chateau using the prompt “office au”. This is based on an actual episode of the show “The Office” - season 6 episode 17 “The Delivery”. I’m so happy with how this turned out - this is fuelling my obsession with the show and bughead amazingly. Also thank you to @andmybelovedneitherdoyou for helping me out with some of the characters in this and beta reading it for me, I love you tons! Some characters and lines are taken from the show so not all of this fic is my original content!

Warnings - Pregnancy / labour, mentions of pain.

Word count - 5k.

Riverdale tag list - @bucky-j-barnes @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff @kpopgirlbtssvt @booksmusicteaandanimals @happy-puff @cheryllclayton @jesso80 @dietbreadloaf @thebluetint @hppygmc8 @lilireinhartsimp @camiczzzz @bitchy-broken @crazyninjalight @luella-cane @bc-jh22

To join my tag list fill out this form

“Good afternoon, I just wanted to check and see if there was anything you needed before I went on my maternity leave since I won’t be here for a while,” Betty leaned back in her seat as she spoke, her free hand resting over her eight months pregnant stomach. She should have been on maternity leave already for a few weeks now, especially considering how far along she was in her pregnancy, but Betty was stubborn and had refused to only until she really had to. Her and Jughead needed the money from two incomes, especially with a baby on the way, and although Jughead had tried to get her to take it sooner, there was no stopping Betty once she was determined to do something. So at almost eight and a half months pregnant she was still working her office job, selling printers, paper, and other stationery supplies. “Yeah, I’m having a baby. Thank you, you're so kind,” The blonde smiled at the nice comment that the customer had left, scribbling down a note on her pink post-its as they continued. “Great, I’ll type up your order for you now. Thank you, have a nice day.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t do that,” Betty sighed as she put the phone down and looked across her desk, where Bret was seated opposite her. “You cannot exploit your baby for sales.”

“Hey, did I tell you we’re having a baby?” Jughead’s voice cut in from where he was sat on Betty’s left in the middle of herself and Bret speaking with a customer, shooting a wink in the latter’s direction when he started glaring at him.

“Hey, stop that Jones.” He snapped.

“Bret, there is nothing bad about talking about your life. People like that kind of stuff-” Betty started, before she winced and squeezed her eyes shut as her right hand pressed into her side.

Jughead looked up over at his wife’s desk with a small concerned frown, a crease forming in between his eyebrows when seeing the pain she was in. Betty had been having contractions since the morning, though since they were irregular and far apart, they had agreed to wait until they were seven minutes apart before going to the hospital. Their insurance company only covered two nights there so they were trying to hold off until midnight, but seven minutes apart was when they were going if she got there before midnight.

“See? Even your baby hates it. They aren't even born yet and you’re using them for your own personal gain. How disgusting.” Bret scoffed, and Jughead just shook his head at him as he wheeled his chair closer to Betty around the corner of the desk.

“You try giving birth to a baby then, Bret.” Betty shot back towards him once the contraction had pretty much passed, gently squeezing her husband's hand when it had been offered to her.

“Fine, easy, my hips are big enough for an easy birth anyways. Maybe that’s why you’re already so bad, you’re too small.” Bret rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you have a baby then if you’d be so great at it,” Jughead proposed, somehow managing to keep himself composed through the ridiculous proposal. “Then you could use your own baby for sales.” He shrugged before he leaned back closer to Betty to check that she was okay, leaving Bret staring into the distance as if he was actually considering the idea.

-

“So, what are you thinking about baby names? I’m dying to know.” Veronica enquired with a smile as she leaned against Betty’s desk, beside where the woman herself was seated in her chair.

As silly as it sounded she had been trying to avoid anything that was even rumoured to induce labour; so no spicy food, no sex (although that wasn’t really a problem in the office - at least not recently), and no walking around unless she really had to. Jughead had offered to wheel her around in her desk chair, but after a recent incident with a shopping cart and a cast on Archie’s arm she decided against it and declined his offer.

“Well, if it’s a boy then he’ll be taking up Jughead’s name as the fourth,” Betty smiled when she caught Jughead winking at her from across the desk, deciding to ignore the sarcastic fake yawn that Veronica let out. “And if it’s a girl then we’re thinking, oh-” She cut herself off with a quiet groan, her hands coming around her stomach as she stiffened in her seat. She felt Veronica’s hand on her arm soothingly, and just as she heard her husband start to speak beside her, his voice was soon drowned out by their excited boss making his way out of his office.

“Oh oh! Contraptions she’s contrapting!” Reggie’s voice rang through the office loudly, very clearly excited that Betty’s baby was slowly but surely on the way.

Reggie Mantle was a strange man. For such a well put together man; slicked back hair, expensive looking suits, and the smoothest talk when he needed to sort a business deal - he was honestly quite far from that. To everyone in the office who got to see Reggie outside of formal business and meetings; he was a loud, childish, obnoxious, idiot. To put it politely. He had a good heart, but he either didn’t use it enough or went too far. When it came to Betty and Jughead’s baby, he was definitely pushing it too far.

“Okay!” He clapped, standing in front of the entire office as he grinned. “Someone call an ambulance, grab the go bag. It’s hospital time let’s go!”

“Why do you have a go bag-” Betty started before she was cut off.

“Okay, calm down Reggie,” Jughead shook his head a little, lifting a hand. “We aren’t going to the hospital yet, we’re trying to wait until midnight because of our stupid HMO.”

“Right, of course, Betty cross your legs and keep ‘em in there.” Reggie pointed at her and earned an irritated look in return from Betty as her contraction started passing.

“Yeah sure, I’ll do just that.” Betty muttered sarcastically with a sigh as she managed to relax back in her seat.

Veronica usually had the best chair in the office - she had lied to corporate about some back issues just to get an expensive though very comfortable chair out of them, compared to the cheap and uncomfortable ones that everyone else in the office had - though through the last week of work she had been letting Betty use it to make sure she was comfortable. She could handle an uncomfortable chair for a week. Just about, anyways.

As Bret distracted Reggie with something that led the two to retreat into his office and Veronica left to go and find Archie, Jughead wheeled his chair around the desk again to be beside Betty and gently took her hand.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just go in now?” He asked as he gently ran his thumb across her knuckles.

“No, no I’m fine,” Betty smiled and shook her head as she gently squeezed her husband’s hand. “When they’re seven minutes apart then we’ll go. I really wanna try and make it until twelve, Jug.”

“Okay, as soon as they’re seven minutes apart then we go.” Jughead gently squeezed her hand back and pressed a kiss to her lips for a moment, matching her smile with his own once he had pulled away before he wheeled back to his own seat. Of course he was worried about her, he hated how much pain she had to go through for their baby to come, but he was happy that they would be going to the hospital soon to have their baby - whether it was before midnight or not.

-

“Alright, seven minutes,” Jughead clapped his hands together as he walked over to Betty’s desk where she was sat with a grimace across her features as she gripped the arm rests of her chair, breathing out through her teeth. “Couldn’t quite make it to midnight but that’s okay, we’ll just get you settled at home after. Let me just grab the bag and then we’ll go.” He gently rested his hand on her arm before he turned to leave, though stopped when her hand reached out to grab his arm.

“No no, slow down Jug. I’m okay we don’t have to go yet.” Betty breathed out, and Jughead couldn’t help but frown in confusion and concern.

“What? Betty, no, we need to go.” He shook his head with a frown, becoming increasingly worried that they would be putting it off for too long. Jughead was well aware of how stubborn Betty could be, especially over something like their insurance, but he really didn’t think that it was such a big deal that they wouldn’t get as much time in the hospital as they had liked. He would just settle Betty comfortably in their bedroom when they got home with the bassinet for the baby. He didn’t really get why it was such a big deal to stay at the hospital.

“No, Jug, we can wait a little longer. It’s okay,” She managed to smile a little once her contraction had passed, reaching out to gently take his hand with a gentle squeeze. “The doctor said anywhere between five to seven minutes. We’ve still got time.”

Jughead stared at her for a moment before he sighed and reluctantly gave in, knowing there wasn’t any persuading Betty once she was being stubborn about something. If there was anything he had learnt about his wife after being with her for a good couple of years, it was that she was even more stubborn than him. And that was saying something.

“Fine,” Jughead sighed and nodded. “Fine, we’ll leave at five minutes. But no later, okay? I’m serious, Betty.”

“Of course. Five minutes.” Betty smiled.

Jughead exhaled and nodded as he squeezed her hand again before he sat back in his seat at his desk beside hers, trying to focus back on his work. But he could barely pay attention, glancing back at his wife every few minutes; and practically staring at her with a frown when she had another contraction that left her wincing as she leaned back in her seat.

“Stop staring at me,” Betty breathed out as she met his gaze, her hands cradling her enlarged belly. “I’m fine don’t worry.”

“Okay crazy,” Jughead scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “I think I have some better things to do with my day than worry about you. Like sell printers. Well, now ‘till Friday; twenty percent off all toner cartridges. That’s a big deal. While we’re on the subject why don’t I just run you down to the hospital?”

“Nice try,” Betty shot a finger gun at him, smiling a little more as her husband shook his head irritably. “Five minutes apart, sweetie.”

“Yeah five minutes apart I know.” Jughead grumbled in annoyance, the tapping of his fingers against his keyboard becoming harsher and louder as he grew more irritated.

“Hey, guys,” Archie wheeled over on his seat from across the office, one hand on his arm rest as the other - which was still in a cast - rested in his lap. “Word of advice, speaking as a former baby. Don’t get too hung up on baby names. I was named Walter Jr. named after my great grandfather, until I was about six or so when my cousin was born, and my family changed their mind. They thought my cousin better exemplified the Walter Jr. name so they gave it to him, and I was renamed Archibald out of a baby names book from like the eighteenth century. How cool is that?”

Betty and Jughead blinked and glanced at each other for a moment, trying to process what Archie had just told them, before Jughead nodded as he turned to face him again. “Thanks, Arch. We’ll be careful about it.” He nodded, and Archie grinned at him as he nodded to.

“Oh my god, Betty,” Veronica gasped as she came over, standing beside Archie as she rested her hand over her chest. “You are such a strong and brave woman. Did you know that you could be in labour for like twenty hours? That’s twenty hours of pain like this-“

“Veronica?” Jughead cleared his throat.

“-and your hair and teeth can fall out, like you could lose them all-“

“Veronica.” Jughead repeated a little firmer.

“-and the baby can get stuck and hurt and you can like pass out and bleed really bad-“

“Thank you Veronica for letting us know!” Jughead spoke loudly, causing Veronica to jump and shut up immediately. “Don’t you guys have some work to do?” He shot an irritated glare towards her and Archie, which caused them to just nod before they retreated to their own desks. He looked back at Betty and frowned when he saw her scared expression, reaching across the desk to take her hand. “Hey, that’s not gonna happen with us. You’re already pretty far along. Far enough along to get going already-“

“Jug it’s not happening.” Betty told him, and he rolled his eyes, but frowned when she groaned quietly and clutched at her belly again.

“Okay, baby time!” Reggie stepped out of his office and clapped his hands, a grin over his expression as he walked over towards Betty and Jughead’s desk.

“No, we aren’t going yet.” Betty got out through gritted teeth, and Jughead just sighed as he looked at her, his bottom lip being brought between his teeth for a moment as he started to get a little frustrated.

“Okay, well do you want a distraction to keep you from thinking about it?” Reggie asked, and Jughead practically shot daggers at him as his eye twitched slightly in annoyance.

“Actually, Reggie-“

“Yes please.” Betty cut Jughead off, smiling at Reggie some as Jughead gripped the armrest of his chair tight enough for his fingers to dent the cheap rubber covering it.

“Okay great. Uhm, Jughead and Veronica will you guys go in the break room with her?” Reggie asked as he gestured to Betty, and Jughead had to clamp his jaw to keep from expressing how irritated he was as he stood up and took her arms to help her up and to walk her to the break room along with Veronica.

“Betty, I have this brilliant movie on my laptop we can watch together since Archie doesn’t want to watch it with me. It’s got Leonardo DiCaprio in it; total bae, I know.” Veronica grinned as herself and Jughead helped Betty into one of the seats in the break room beside the many vending machines they had in there.

Once Betty had smiled and nodded Veronica left to get her laptop from her desk, leaving Betty and Jughead alone as he moved to sit beside her.

“You’re annoyingly stubborn, you know that?” He asked her, and she just fondly shook her head as she took his hand.

“You still love me though.” She told him with a smile as she leaned over to kiss his cheek.

Jughead chose to sit with Betty and Veronica to watch the movie, just to make sure Betty was okay and to sit with her through the contractions. At some point Reggie had joined them, which only made Jughead more irritated at his attempt to talk Betty through her contractions, which we’re just extremely annoying.

“Alright, you’re at six minutes apart, another like seventy-five contractions and you’re going to be there.” Reggie told Betty with a grin, earning an irritated look from the couple and a sharp “shh!“ from Veronica who was extremely interested in the movie.

“Six minutes is close enough to five. You know what? I’m just going to call Doctor Keller he’ll know what to do.” Jughead stood up, extremely worried and irritated as he let go of Betty’s hand to grab his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Jug-“

“No Betty we should probably call-“

“Honey we don’t even need to go yet-“

“Actually yes I think we do-“

“Guys can you shut up I’m still watching this movie.”

“Yeah Jug you’re really distracting me from my distraction right now. Sweetie, I love you, but I’m trying to watch this movie.” Betty spoke a little louder over Jughead’s worried rambling, causing his jaw to clench and his eye to twitch in irritation again as he looked at his wife. “Why don’t you try and go do some work?”

“Great,” Jughead nodded with a sarcastic smile. “Of course. I’m sorry for worrying about my wife who’s going into labour.” He huffed as he walked out of the break room, leaving Betty with Veronica and Reggie to watch the movie.

Though instead of going back to his desk he walked straight past it and towards the exit of the office, ignoring Bret’s complaint that he wasn’t working as he quickly went down the stairs and left the building to head towards his car. He unlocked it and got inside, rooting around in one of the bags they kept in the back seat until he found what he was looking for; four pregnancy books.

“Five to seven minutes,” Jughead mumbled as he flipped through the first book, before he tossed it into the back seat and opened the next one. “Five to seven minutes,” He repeated, the next book being thrown. “Six minutes; different, but not really,” He huffed before he opened the next one. “Five to seven minutes.” He groaned and dropped his head down to rest on the steering wheel, though flinched and sat back up when he had accidentally beeped the car horn.

He sat down there on his own for a good five minutes before he heard a light tapping on the car window, and looked up to see Betty stood there. She motioned for him to roll down the car window and he quickly did so, leaning his arm on the door of the car afterwards.

“Hey,” She smiled. “I’m not going to get into the car because I know you’ll try and drive me to the hospital.”

“Ah, you know me too well.” Jughead nodded, fiddling with his tie as he looked up at his wife.

“Jug?”

“Hm?”

“Everything is fine, okay?” Betty smiled reassuringly. “I’m okay, we still have time, she isn't coming for a while yet.”

Jughead froze as Betty did, his mouth dropping open slightly as he met her gaze. “She?” He whispered.

“Oh god I’m sorry,” Betty clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “I called the doctor last week, I just couldn’t wait. Are you mad?”

“Mad?” Jughead’s voice broke as he smiled uncontrollably, reaching his hand out of the car to grasp his wife’s gently. “How could I be mad? We’re having a little girl,” He nodded a little as his vision grew slightly blurry, tears collecting along his waterline. “Really?” He asked, and was met with a teary smile from his wife that matched his own as she giggled.

“Yeah,” Betty smiled brightly. “We’re having a baby girl.”

Jughead let out a light laugh and nodded, his smile only widening as he lifted his hand to run over his eyes before he leaned out of the car enough to hug Betty, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. Originally he had wanted to wait until the baby was born to find out the gender. He had refused multiple times when the doctor had asked, not wanting to find out prematurely, but he couldn’t even be the slightest bit unhappy that Betty had let it slip early, the emotions that were running through him in that moment were indescribable; he couldn’t wait to find out how much better it would feel once the baby was born. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Jug.” Betty whispered, gently hugging him back before she let him go so he could lean back into the car.

“Okay, I’m gonna go back upstairs, okay?”

“Okay.” Jughead nodded and smiled as he gave her a once over, but paused when he saw what she was wearing. Before he had left the office she was in her usual attire; a skirt and a jumper. But now she was wearing a pair of maternity leggings and one of his hoodies, an outfit he knew that she kept in the office just in case. “Did you change outfits?”

“Oh yeah, my water broke so I had to.” Betty shrugged before she turned to go back into the office.

“Oh right.” Jughead nodded as he sat back in his seat, still thinking about the baby more than anything else. Though once he had processed what Betty said he sat up and looked over at her just as she was walking back inside. “Wait what?”

-

Jughead had been pacing outside of the break room where Betty was with Reggie for what felt like hours, though in reality it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. He knew if he was in there then he would just stress Betty out more with his (rational) worrying, so he opted to stand outside. Though it was definitely worse out there; having to listen to Betty in pain and Reggie’s annoying talks through it was really just setting him even more on edge.

“Okay, that’s fine, almost made it to midnight but you should probably go to the hospital now.” Reggie was saying as Betty groaned again. “Too bad you didn’t have sex like… seven and a half hours later. But you had to have the afternoon delight, I understand, sometimes you just have to go for it.”

“N-no, I’m fine, the doctor said it’s s-still considered a minor contraction as long as I can still talk through it-” Betty barely forced the words out shakily before she groaned, causing Jughead to immediately walk into the room with a frown.

“Okay, Betty we really should go.”

“No, it’s fine,” Betty started as Jughead walked over to her, shaking her head. “That wasn’t even the worst of them, no-” She started rambling as Jughead took one of her arms and Reggie took the other to try and get her out of the seat.

“Betty come on.”

“No, no Jug it’s fine-”

“We should really go now-”

Everyone started talking at once as the men tried their hardest to pull a struggling Betty out of the seat before she scowled and shook her head harshly. “No!” She yelled, tugging her arms away harsh enough for them both to let go of her. “No! No I am not going yet! I’m not going okay? I’m not going because I can’t do this I don’t think I can do this.” Betty’s voice broke as she started crying, her lip trembling as her vision blurred with unshed tears.

Jughead’s gaze softened as he looked at her, a frown curving his lips downwards as her voice filled him with sadness and sympathy for his wife.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked softly as he crouched in front of her chair, taking one of her trembling hands in his as she sniffled in front of him. “Betty, you are the strongest person I know. If anybody can do this then you can, okay?” Jughead asked softly, and she nodded tearily in response. “I’m scared, love, I’m so scared. But this little girl is going to be the luckiest baby out there because she has the best mother in the whole damn world.”

“You’re having a girl? Really? Guys, I wanted to be surprised what the hell?” Reggie complained from across the room.

Jughead only rolled his eyes and chose to ignore him as he turned back to Betty. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do; we’re going to get our bag, go down to the car and drive to the hospital, and then we’ll have our beautiful baby girl. Okay?” Jughead squeezed her hand when she nodded and smiled as he stood up to kiss her forehead softly.

“Thank’s Jug.” Betty whispered as she looked at her husband.

Jughead nodded before he turned to look at Reggie, clearing his throat. “How’re we doing on contractions?”

“Two minutes.”

“Two- two minutes?” Jughead asked, a glare quickly being sent to Reggie as frustration quickly bubbled up inside of him. “I thought I said to let me know at five minutes- what good is two minutes that’s too late two minutes doesn’t help us! What happened to four and three minutes huh?” Jughead started rambling as he helped Betty out of her seat who was starting to get worked up again.

“Jug we can still drive-” Betty started, stopping his rambling for a moment, before she gasped and almost fell over at the intensity of her next contraction, groaning as she gripped onto Jughead’s hand tightly.

Jughead frowned and held her up, his free hand rubbing her back as she started crying again. Reggie, who was clearly flustered and not too sure what to do, grabbed Betty’s jacket from the chair and helped Jughead lead Betty out of the room as her contraction started to past.

“It’s go time people!” Reggie yelled across the office, letting Jughead hold Betty up completely as he walked out in front of the whole office. “Veronica call an ambulance!”

“No, ambulances are for emergencies only,” Bret spoke up with a glare. “You call an ambulance I call the cops.”

“We’re driving it’s fine,” Jughead spoke up as he carefully helped Betty sit down at her desk chair, gently pressing a kiss to the crown of her head in hopes of keeping her calm. “I’m just going to grab the bag and we can go, okay?” He asked softly and Betty nodded as she gave him a tearful smile. “Okay.” He gave her arm one last squeeze as he quickly jumped up and practically ran across the office to where they were keeping the bag in one of the cabinets in the kitchen, his heart racing a million miles an hour in the panic and excitement (though mostly panic) that their baby was on the way very soon.

By the time he was back in the main office area everyone was in a panic: Reggie was running around packing his own go bag for some reason, Veronica was squealing excitedly about getting to meet her godchild (they had picked her as the baby’s godmother a few weeks ago and she still hadn’t gotten over it), and even Bret was up and out of his seat, talking to Reggie quickly.

“Okay, we’re ready,” Jughead tried to smile as reassuring as he could towards his wife as he walked back over to her seat with the bag over his shoulders, taking her hands to help her stand up. “Are you good to go-”

“This is ridiculous,” Bret cut him off as he walked over. “Has anyone even checked how dilated she is yet?” As he spoke he pulled out a tape measure and kneeled on the floor in front of Betty.

“Bret!” Jughead and Betty gasped at the same time as he opened the tape measure.

“Bret are you serious?” Reggie scoffed as he walked over. “Give it to Jughead that’s his job.”

As Bret held the tape measure up to give it to Jughead he rolled his eyes and pushed it away, instead moving his hands to his pockets frantically as he started to just freak out further.

“Has anyone seen my keys- where are my keys?” He shouted, before he reached into his trouser pockets and sighed as he pulled them out. “Got them.”

As he started leading Betty out of the room he managed a genuine smile as everyone in the office started shouting goodbye and good luck, and he felt a little relieved when he saw Betty was smiling too. He gave everyone a big wave before he took both of her hands again and led her out of the room and into the elevator so that they could leave.

The whole drive there Jughead kept her hand in his free one, letting her squeeze it as tightly as she needed through contractions and constantly ran his thumb over her knuckles to try and soothe her somewhat. He truthfully was terrified, but wanted to get Betty there as calmly as possible. He didn’t have time to panic about it, as much as he wanted to, he just had to settle with the constant thumping of his heart until they pulled into the hospital and he ran out to grab her a wheelchair.

“We’re here now, okay? Everything is going to go perfect, Betty. We’re going to meet our baby girl soon.” Jughead assured her as he helped her into the wheelchair with a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, Jug.” Betty smiled as she reached back to take his hand as he wheeled her to the door.

“I love you, too.” He smiled.

There were two doctors at the door waiting, and as they had offered to help her inside Jughead squeezed her hand before he let it go. “I’m just going to park the car, I promise I’ll be back in a minute.” He told her as one of the doctors started wheeling her inside, and smiled at her until he couldn’t see her anymore.

Jughead got back in the car and took a few minutes to find a parking space, though once he had he sat in the car for a minute longer than needed. His fingers reached up to brush along the edge of the scan photo that was clipped to the mirror of the car, an easy smile sweeping across his lips as it took everything inside of him to not get emotional again. Even though he was still panicked and worried and terrified, he couldn’t help but take a moment to smile and breathe.

He was simply excited to meet their little girl, and that would be enough to keep him smiling forever if he could.

[frustratedpoetwrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter Characters: James Potter, Lily Evans Potter Additional Tags: Morning After, Goodbyes, Sharing a Shower, reluctant goodbyes Series: Part 2 of The Marauders Pub Soho Summary:

The morning after a night of passion Lily has to leave a soundly sleeping James, but she doesn't want to.

Lily lay staring at the skylight, and watched the patch of sky turn from black to indigo. She just gazed without moving, hardly even blinking as it gradually grew lighter and lighter. She had not been able to find any rest for more than a few brief snatches, as tired as she was. Her whole body zinged with electricity, her brain abuzz with everything that had happened last night and had continued to happen throughout the night. She glanced over towards the body sleeping soundly beside her, the sheets pooled around his waist showing his toned back. He had acquired some new tattoos in the six years since she had last seen him. When she’d remarked on the delicately detailed Lily that was now inked on his right side sweeping across his ribs, he had quipped back that it marked the spot where she had stuck her knife in him when she’d left him to pursue her career. That remark had stung more than she wanted to admit, even though she did deserve it. 

She had told him last night she never wanted to leave his side again, and she had meant it. Especially at that moment, standing in the bar he basically built, surrounded by the memories of their childhood. Engulfed by the overwhelming scent of James himself. At that moment it had been so easy to say yes to all of his questions, say yes to coming here to his place instead of going back to her hotel as she had planned. She wished she could stay in this moment, with the old day finished and the new not yet begun. In this bed with this man forever. But all too soon she would have to leave. She needed to get on a plane in a few hours. If she didn’t, then any dream she had to live in London permanently would be gone.

She glanced around James's attic room trying to see if he even had a clock. She was amazed that he still lived like this. There was a rail for his clothes and a bed so low it was almost like the mattress was on the floor. That was it. She hoped he didn’t live like this all the time, but she suspected his life and energy was spent at the bar.

It had looked so beautiful, the large dark polished oak panels and the brass rail, the small stage with the piano sitting proudly. And all the pictures on the walls of their schooldays. It had always been his dream to run a bar, and the four Marauders had made it a successful reality, but she knew who had been driving it from day one, and she was  incredibly proud of him for that.

She reached for her clutch bag and fumbled in it for her phone. It did not light up when she tapped the screen. Her battery must have died. 

Fuck.

She glanced over at James, still sleeping soundly, and contemplated waking him, but she knew he was exhausted. She had wiped him out, she thought to herself, suppressing a giggle, it had been a wonderful night. He had not forgotten any of the things he used to do to make her whole body hum, and he had learned a few new things too she had discovered. His strength and stamina had greatly increased. Not that she had expected him to hold himself chaste for her, but she still had a pang of jealousy at the thought that other women had touched him, had been with her James. Had they asked about his tattoo? She always thought of him as hers, even though she hadn’t exactly expected to ever come back to him that day she had left. Any time before now when she had considered it she talked herself out of it because she was convinced he would be with someone else.

She rolled over onto her back again, and looked up at the skylight. 

What time was it?

She’d hoped she wouldn't have to do this but she slid off the edge of the bed and took James’s phone out of the pocket of his jeans and opened it, shaking her head at the stubborn distrust for technology that meant he still used an old flip phone. Although at the moment Lily was grateful because she didn’t have to worry about unlocking it.

She tapped in the digits for her assistant's number as she crept into his ensuite, slipping on the dressing gown that was on a hook behind the door.

The phone rang just once before she heard an unsure “Hello?”

“Hey, Jess it’s me…”

“Lily!” came the scream, causing her to jump and nearly drop the phone. “Where the fucking hell have you been? I’ve been calling you all night. Your meeting has been moved up, you need to get to the airport right now!”

“What? Oh, fuck!” Lily took a breath and closed her eyes as her assistant kept rambling over the phone, talking so fast Lily could hardly understand them. “Jess, Jess, Jessie!” She tried to speak urgently and sharply without making too much noise. “I need you to bring me my bag and my suit, the green one. Put an extra pair of underwear in my bag.”

“I’m sorry, Lily, but your overnight bag won’t be enough, I've had to pack your suitcase, you’ll be staying for a week. They’ve sent a whole itinerary, but when we left Hong Kong I didn’t think to pack any of your formal wear. I’ve arranged for the concierge to book a fitting for after your first meeting, once you’ve checked in. Where are you anyway? I need to let Terrence know where we need to come and get you.” 

Lily went to answer then realised she had no actual idea of the address. It wasn’t far from the bar, she didn’t think. But she had been interested in other things besides looking out the car window to notice what neighbourhood they were in. Lily looked up as the door to the bathroom swung open gently, revealing a conscious James leaning against the frame wearing only his battered looking jeans, his tousled hair framing his tired-looking face and his glasses perching on the end of his nose, as if they were mere moments from falling off.

She let the phone fall from her ear slightly as he continued to stare at her, a wry smile reaching only the edge of his lips. 

“Something tells me you aren’t staying for breakfast.” His tone was light but she heard the resignation behind it. As she looked over at her childhood sweetheart, an idea struck her.

“Jess? You still there? Pick me up outside the Marauders’ Pub in Soho. Yeah? And Jess? I'm gonna need another plane ticket.”

“Well, okay boss but they are sending you a priv…..” Lily did not hear the last of her assistant’s words as she closed the flip phone and tossed it back to him.

“I can't believe you still use that antique.” He caught it deftly in his left hand and dropped it into his back pocket.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you dick around with my life again,” he replied, barely even trying to mask the disappointment.

“As much as I'd love to have this argument again, I really need you to pack yourself a bag. Do you have a good suit that fits you?”

He shook his head and blinked at her as she brushed past him to his rail of clothes and started looking through them. He still had some nice attire here, a lot of it she remembered from their life before.

“Lily, wait,” he called after her but she took no notice. She had no time. Already, in her head, she was mapping out what she needed to do. A whole week with these people. The one day originally planned would have been torture, but this... If she had back up maybe she could make it work.  “Stop.” He placed a hand on hers as it rested on the next coathanger. She looked up into his gorgeous eyes as they shone with all the colours as his emotions played out across his face. He was always so expressive. “What are you doing?”

“I want you to come with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You’re your own boss, you could take the time off. It’s not like you’re the only one in charge. What about Sirius? Or Remus? Or even Pete?” She paused, “Is Pete doing okay? I thought he wanted to go in a, erm, different direction but I saw his name up there with the rest of you?”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Pete is a silent partner, he helps out when he can but his wife made him join their family business, he helps by keeping them away.” His hand dropped to his side. “Lily I can’t afford to just drop everything, everybody else has other responsibilities, I’m the only one left to run it and I won't let it fail. My staff depends on me.”

“James, this is me telling you I don’t want to leave you again. I don’t want to go on this trip without you by my side, I could use someone in my corner. I could also use a devilishly handsome, charming, charismatic–” he raised an eyebrow at her seductive tone but didn’t stop her putting her hands on his chest, tracing the antlers that spread across them. 

 “My tattoos aren’t very corporate,” he murmured, his voice sounding deep and throaty. she shrugged in reply,

“You’d be surprised what people hide under their suits these days.” She told him with a twinkle, sobering when his lips thinned. “Please James. I need you.” She hadn’t realised how true those words were until she had spoken them to the universe.

“I’m sorry Lily, but my staff need me more. They rely on me.”

“So you’ve never taken a day off? Never had to call in sick?” Before he could answer her questions an idea struck her. “What if I pay your staff for the week? How much would that be?” He stood for a moment apparently stunned then started laughing and stepped away from her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She tried not to look upset at his reaction to her suggestion. She stood watching him and waited for his mirth to subside.

“Oh, you are actually serious? You want to pay me so I will spend time with you?” He shook his head as his mirth still rippled through him. “This isn’t Pretty Woman and I’m not some, some...rentboy you picked up off the street.” 

Now he sounded angry. James’ phone started buzzing in his back pocket. She had not thought that offering to pay his staff would equate  to her hiring him as an escort service. Her brain hadn’t gone that way at all. She let him answer his call, as she rushed back to the bathroom for a much needed shower and tried to clear her head.

James may have skimped on bedroom furniture but he hadn’t skimped on his wet room. The shower was a walk-in style and big enough for four people, the naturally textured tiles on her feet were warm as she walked in, the large slabs of highly polished sand-coloured stone on the walls were so neatly fitted she couldn’t even see the joins. 

Turning on the shower filled the room with hot steam and the reassuring splats of water droplets peppering the tiles. Stepping into it, she gasped at the pressure. It was like standing in a tropical rainstorm. She just stood there unmoving, letting the water rush over her enjoying the sensation as it beat down on her head.

“That was your PA on the phone. I gave them this address so you can leave from here.” James said as he stepped into the bathroom like they did this kind of thing all the time. “Thought you might want to have some fresh clothes to wear.”

“You really won’t come?” She asked, trying one last time. She forced herself to keep her eyes forward when she realised he was joining her by the sound of his jeans hitting the tiled floor. 

Despite their recent intimacy, or perhaps because of it, being this close to his naked body turned her core white-hot. She tried very hard not to react as she felt his naked skin brush up against hers.  His arm reached past and grabbed an unlabelled metal bottle from the small alcove. Then his fingers were in her hair and her nostrils were filled with the scent of an English summer garden.

“Is it okay that I join you in here? Thought it would save some time.”

“Yes, okay, it’s absolutely fine,” she tried to keep her voice as neutral as his but even she could hear the breathiness.  

“I told your assistant I can’t, it’s not my scene at all,” he told her conversationally, as if he wasn’t standing butt naked behind her in the shower. He was trying to calm her down, trying to talk about what needed to be talked about. The fact they were taking a shower together didn’t seem to phase him at all. Determinedly, she tried to follow his lead.

“This is not me running away from you. I need you to understand that.” She hummed in pleasure as his fingers massaged deeper into her hair. “I’m sorry if I offended you, offering to pay.” 

 “I’m still not sure if I find it more funny or offensive,” he began. “I can’t say I’m not tempted to run away with you, but you know as well as I do how much of a distraction I would be. You need to be at your best. I will be fine, I’ll just have to trust you’ll come back. That you're not making me the poor jilted lover once more.” He told her. She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to worry, wanted to say all the things that she had agonised about saying as she lay awake beside him in his bed, but no words could adequately explain how she was feeling. So she turned and reached for him, pushing her fingers up across his stubble studded cheeks into his hair and kissing him soundly. Breaking the kiss he tilted her head back as his lips dragged kisses across her throat. She didn’t need to ask where his mind was right now, she could feel his arousal pressing against her stomach. All too soon her brain caught up with her and soundly put on the brakes. “Not that I don’t enjoy where this is going, but we need to stop.” She took a few quick breaths as his hands continued to soap her breasts. “I don’t have the time and I’m a little tender.”

“You were the one who started things, Evans. I was just helping you wash,” he said innocently, amusement dancing in his eyes. But he did take his hands off her body and even though she had asked him to, she mourned the loss of contact. “In all honesty, I don’t think I have it in me right now to perform at my best anyway.” 

“Let’s just put this on pause for now then shall we?” She told him, giving him a gentle kiss, hoping he understood how much he continued to mean to her. Lily dipped her head to rinse the bubbles out of her hair. It felt like silk as she combed her fingers through it.

“What is that shampoo? It’s amazing!”

“It’s a prototype. Remus’ company makes it, the only thing that’s come close to making my hair behave. He’s made it his personal mission to tame it. He gives me a new formula just about every week.” He pointed to the small bathroom cabinet above the sink. “The conditioner’s in there, it's one you have to leave in. I put towels on the hook.” She stepped aside once she was rinsed, letting him have the full force of the shower. 

“Does he always make it smell like flowers?”

“Yup.” She expected him to elaborate but when he didn’t she just let it go and stepped out of the shower. She found the small spray bottle in the cabinet simply labelled conditioner and scrunched some into her hair as she watched James wash his. The bubbles slid down his frame in ways that made her wish she could just step back in there with him.

Lily wished she could continue to stare at him but her logical brain was kicking in to tell her all that she still had to do. Moving back to the bedroom, she twisted her hair up out of the way while she looked for anywhere he would store things. There wasn’t even a cupboard in the bedroom so she padded her way through to the living space. She barely remembered it from the night before, and she was stunned at how minimally he lived.

It was a beautiful apartment, the exposed red brick looked amazing with the warm honey-coloured wooden floor. The living space was a good size for London, the kitchen looked brand new with a wooden worktop that matched the floor and clean white cupboards. She spotted the coffee machine, and hunted in the cupboards to see if he had any beans, suppressing her irritation when every one was empty. 

The more she looked around his place, the less it felt like he lived here at all. There was a giant modular brown leather sofa taking up the majority of space in the living area, a coffee table that looked like it was made out of granite, and a giant tv on the wall. 

“What is this place to you James Potter?” She mused as she looked around. She was tempted to start rummaging in drawers (if there were any) but it felt like possibly a step too far for now. 

The intercom buzzed impatiently making her jump guiltily and nearly drop her towel. As she stared at the white box on the wall and wondered how to operate it James came striding out of the bedroom holding a hand towel around his waist, hair still dripping. He lifted the receiver then buzzed to let the person come up. “It’s your assistant.” He explained before vanishing back to the bedroom.

Lily stood looking through the peephole until she saw her assistant's blonde head appear from the stairs.

She opened the door and ushered them in quickly. Taking the bag from them awkwardly with one hand.

Jessie looked around and hummed appreciatively. “This is nice, you could do a lot with this place. When are they moving in?”

“I don’t know,” Lily replied quietly. “I’m going to go change. Can you play nice with James, please? It would be great if you two get on.”

“Well I’ll behave if he will,” Jessie swept an invisible strand of hair out their face before relenting to Lily’s reproachful look. “Alright, alright. When we spoke on the phone they were pleasant so I can be too.” 

“Great, I’ll be super quick,” as she made her way back into the bedroom James stepped out wearing that same pair of jeans he seemed incredibly fond of and one of his many black Marauders Pub t-shirts. He put out a hand to stop her as she tried to slip past him.

“I’m going to get out of your hair,” he said quietly. She could tell by the tone he didn’t want to be here when she left, didn’t want to be the one left waving by the door. She understood that in an instant, saw it in his sad eyes, and the hesitant touch he placed on her arm. 

“Okay.” With a glance at her assistant she walked him back into the bedroom. “This was not how I wanted this to go,” she said, keeping her voice down once she knew they were alone.

“Saying goodbye brings back bad memories,” he told her shuffling his feet and running a hand through his hair. “I want to believe you're coming back this time.”

“Of course I’m coming back. I’ll call you, every day. But could you do something for me?” She asked, reaching to snake her arms around his neck.

“Can you get yourself a new phone so we can video chat?”

“Yes, Evans I think I can manage that,” he told her, leaning down to kiss her goodbye for the last time. 

[4evamc]

Misha Tweets

Transcript

Ed Levine: Welcome to Special Sauce 2.0. Serious Eats podcast about food and life. Every week on Special Sauce we begin with Ask Kenji, where Kenji Lopez-Alt, Serious Eats Chief Culinary Consultant, gives the definitive answer to the question of the week that a serious eater like you has sent us.

J. Kenji Lopez-Alt: Generally, sort of like delicate leafy herbs like cilantro, parsley, basil, they tend to not be very good in their dried counterparts. Thyme, rosemary, oregano, they actually work pretty well in their dried forms.

EL: After Ask Kenji, a conversation with our guest, today in house, Misha Collins. He is, of course, an actor best known for his role as the angel, Castiel. Did I pronounce that right?

Misha Collins: Castiel.

EL: On the CW television series Supernatural, and has now written with his wife Vicki Collins, The Adventurous Eaters Club: Mastering the Art of Family Meal Time.

EL: Now it's time to meet Misha Collins. He's, of course, an actor best known for his role as the angel, Castiel?

Misha Collins: Castiel.

EL: On the CW television series Supernatural, which has had an insane run, right? It's like 2008 to 2019.

MC: Yeah, we're in our 15th season right now.

EL: That never happens.

MC: No, it doesn't. I don't know why they kept us on the air.

EL: Collins is also the co-founder and board president of Random Acts, a nonprofit organization dedicated to funding and inspiring acts of kindness around the world. He's also a published poet. Very impressive dude.

MC: Thank you.

EL: And has now written with his wife Vicky Collins, The Adventurous Eaters Club: Mastering the Art of Family Meal Time. So welcome to Special Sauce, Misha.

MC: I'm very happy to be here.

EL: So the first question I always ask, in your case it's particularly relevant, is tell us about life at your family table growing up. Your family table was not exactly traditional.

MC: That is true. I was raised by a single mom. My parents separated when I was three years old and I visited my father on every other weekend for most of my childhood, but he wasn't really a cornerstone of my upbringing. But my mother and my brother and our dog were a very tight family unit, and we lived in Western Massachusetts primarily growing up and moved a lot. We were in a new home I would say on average once every nine months or so. I think I lived in 15 places by the time I was 15.

EL: So you were like an Army brat, only you were a different kind of brat.

MC: Right. An Army brat without the parents building up a pension plan.

EL: Right.

MC: Another thing I think that an Army brat family has is a cadre possibly, of other kids that are going through the same experience, and I was generally going to a new school every year and meeting kids that were in fairly stable childhoods and who knew one another and who were familiar with the school, so I was always approaching schools and new towns-

EL: You were the permanent new kid.

MC: Yeah, with a little bit of trepidation, and trying to figure out how I could ingratiate myself to the new communities and the new schools. My mother was very eccentric and iconoclastic. She talked about the revolution a lot. I was born in 1974, and we lived through a tumultuous political time in our country, and she didn't want to have us grow up being conventional young men, so she would do things like dress me up in pink tights and paint my nails and send me off to Cub Scouts. Which I think in 2020 might actually fly, but in a working class community in Massachusetts, when you show up at Cub Scouts in the boys' locker room with nail polish and long hair-

EL: Not so much.

MC: And pink tights, you're ostracized. So, I kind of had to find a way to blend in and disappear a little bit as a kid in new schools, and I think that it built a lot of character in a lot of ways, and made me more resilient and adaptable and independent than I otherwise would have been. But at the same time, there's a certain lack of stable foundation that was challenging.

EL: I had not the same kinds of travails in my own childhood, but you do become resilient and eminently adaptable, but it also has a cost. It exacts a cost that you can't deal with as you're going through it, but you almost have to deal with it at some point in order to really resolve some of the issues that came out of it, I assume.

MC: Yeah. I'm sure you've found the same thing, but I feel like I'm a 45-year-old man and I'm still discovering things and unpacking them and repairing them, I think. There are definitely things that you take away from a childhood like that that give you real strength.

One of the things that I love about my childhood is that I know that you don't need money to be happy and you can get by on just about nothing, and that gives you, I think, quite a bit of power going into the world because you don't feel beholden to the comforts of ... I don't feel beholden to the comforts of money. I'm okay with scarcity. At the same time, I don't know that I was really terribly good at connecting with people or making friends, and I probably still struggle with that.

EL: Yeah. So, you wrote this amazing piece in The Times, and you wrote that “times were often lean, but one luxury we always had an abundance was food, even if it came by the five finger discount. My mother taught me how to steal peaches from the Stop and Shop grocery store when I was four. We were stealing from the man. It was a justified rebellion against an unjust system.”

EL: So, whoa. Okay, those sentences made me stop in my tracks. That's pretty intense. I was actually thinking about this movie, Shoplifters. I don't if you've ever seen it.

MC: Oh yeah. Yeah.

EL: Because in there the father figure, who turns out not to be the father, teaches the kids how to steal so they can eat. And so, wow. I mean, talk about that. Talk about getting conflicting messages from your mother. It's like, whoa.

MC: It's funny, because now hearing you read that, it paints a portrait of a parent who was raising children without a moral compass, and I think that was not at all the case. This was righteous rebellion. We were stealing ... We would never have stolen from the local co-op, but this was from a corporate entity, and these corporations were out to exploit the proletariat. I actually felt the exhilaration of feeling like I was part of a rebellion at that point, and frankly indoctrinated into that at a really young age. At the age of four, I was aware that it was us against them. We were the little guys and that we had a justice on our side. At the same time, it's a complicated thing to be training a little four year old how to steal.

MC: I have a very distinct memory of the fruit island in the Stop and Shop, and me grabbing a peach. This was the first time that I remember ever shoplifting anything. I grabbed the peach and then I ducked down behind the island, and my mother said, "No, no, no, no, no. You can't do it like that. You have to take it. You have to be very calm. You have to not look around. You can't show that you're distressed at all or that you're nervous, and then you put it in your backpack." Then we would go up to the cash register and we would pay for some of the groceries, so that we were distracting them, and then scoot out the door.

EL: And you just, I assume, felt that there was nothing particularly abnormal about this because you had nothing to compare it to.

MC: Right. Yeah, this was my normal.

EL: Yeah. You weren't stealing from somebody or something that needed the money, you were stealing as part of an ethos. Right?

MC: Right.

EL: As part of like, this is the way we work the system to fight the man.

MC: Right, precisely. Yeah.

EL: You also wrote, and I'm going to quote a couple of more sentences from the piece because it was so beautiful, "My upbringing taught me you didn't need money to be happy, that you didn't have to play by the rules, that the whole world was just begging to be explored. But now by the hindsight of fatherhood and from the comfort of a therapist's couch, I see that while my childhood had been rife with adventure, it also had been lonely and frightening and wanting." So you were always reconciling those two things, weren't you?

MC: I wouldn't say I was always reconciling them, because as a child I struggled at times. I felt sad and lonely, but I didn't think that it was because of my childhood.

EL: Got it.

MC: I thought my childhood was full of adventure, and I was proud of my childhood. Up until when I was 25 I don't think I looked back on it and thought that there had been any damage done by that.

EL: Right, and that there was anything dysfunctional about it.

MC: Right. And on balance, my childhood was incredibly ... I think I had a secure attachment with my mother. My mother was there. She was loving. She never failed to convey that love to me and my brother. So she served as my anchor emotionally, and that was unfailing. But because the rest of our life was so fractured and so nomadic, she was my only anchor.

EL: Yeah, because as you said, how do you establish connections with any kids when you're moving every few months?

MC: Right, and when you're showing up at school in pink tights at a working class school you're also getting alienated by your peers, and so the other kids actually ended up being kind of frightening to me.

EL: I read your Wikipedia page, and somehow you escaped and you ended up at a prep school, Northfield Mount Hermon, and then the University of Chicago. What a narrative your life has been. How did that happen?

MC: Now that you're asking the question, I'm reflecting on it possibly for the first time. But one thing that I know happened as a result of my childhood and and partly as a result of feeling like I wasn't fitting in with other kids, is that I was a smart kid and I could win the favor of my teachers. So when I was in school, I did very well in school. It was like the thing I could throw myself into and be safe and get some accolades.

EL: Some positive feedback.

MC: And some positive reinforcement. So I did well in school, and we lived in the town of Northfield for a little while, which was where Northfield Mount Hermon is. They had a program that had been implemented from the inception of the school where local day students could get pretty much a full ride if they were in need, and we were in need, so I could go to a fancy high school for free as a day student. Then I ended up basically getting the same deal at the University of Chicago.

EL: Amazing.

MC: Yeah. At the time, I thought I was going to go into politics, so I was sort of on a very clear path. And that wanting to go into politics was also born of my childhood and of my mother talking about politics all the time, and making me and my brother very aware of the plight of people in need in our country and around the world. It felt like that was the right place for me.

EL: Yeah. Again, and this is the final sentences I'm going to read from the Times piece, because it gets us back to food. Which is, "I recently found an old journal in a box in the back of my closet, and on the page from a decade ago where I had taken inventory of the good and bad of my upbringing the word cooking is circled and underlined with urgency in the plus column, as if I was thinking that food had been the cornerstone of happiness in my youth." Elaborate on that. I mean, that's an amazing statement.

MC: I think as a nomadic family, we moved around and we brought with us what we could, and in terms of material objects, there was very little that was a through line. But we did bring with us from place to place the tradition of sitting down for family meals every night.

EL: Even if you were in a teepee or in a park.

MC: Right. Even if we were sitting on a log in the woods in the rain, we would be sitting down and eating together. There were no distractions. There was never a television on, and there was no coercion in getting to the dinner table. There was no question about it. Not because it was an edict from an authority figure, but because we all just coalesced around dinner and loved it.

EL: You needed it.

MC: Yeah.

EL: It was a permanent form of glue for the family, right?

MC: Yeah. It really was important to us. We would go spend Christmas with my mother's mother, my grandmother, and she was a cook as well, and food was a centerpiece of that family interaction. And for me now that I have kids, I notice that when I'm feeling like a guilty or absent father, the way that I most quickly show my affection and love for my kids is I just make them food. It's like the way that I know to convey to a child everything's safe, everything's okay, and I love you.

EL: Yeah. But in 21st century America, and maybe all around the world, it's hard to do that, right? There are lots of pressures that are forcing people not to eat together.

MC: Right.

EL: Both parents are working, kids are all over the place. But you obviously, I think as a result of your upbringing, it was important when you had a family and a wife that you made that same time for dinner.

MC: Yeah. It feels very important to me. I think sometimes I'm actually kind of maybe forcing my agenda of cooking on my kids. Like, "Come on guys, let's make something in the kitchen." A lot of times they want to go outside and I want to work in the kitchen, and I have to check myself and say, "Okay, we'll go play a little bit of soccer first before we get to canning the pears."

EL: Right. Because the act of eating a meal and preparing it is imbued with so much more meaning for you than it is for them.

MC: Yeah, I think that's true. Yeah.

EL: So you end up being an actor, and I'm just assuming that like all actors, you struggled for many years before you found yourself on the set of Supernatural. So, tell us in a few sentences the arc of your acting career.

MC: Well as I mentioned earlier, my intention after college was to go into politics. I interned at the White House and I got a job at NPR in Washington, DC, and I was really disappointed with what I saw at the White House, and I thought, "Oh God, I have to come up with a whole new plan here." I thought it was going to be the best and the brightest minds under one roof. This was the Clinton administration. And instead what I found was the halls were filled with people who were sycophants, whose parents had donated money to the campaign. They were all yaysayers. There was no real discourse about political ideas, which of course is actually what you need in an administration. You need people who are going to be in lock step and are going to support your decisions, but I was too young and naive to know that.

So when I saw it, I thought, "This is not for me." I thought, "I will try to find another way that I can have an impact." I think there's a lot of hubris in this, but I thought, "I know what I'll do. I'll become an actor. I'll get famous and then I'll parlay my celebrity into some sort of political influence."

EL: Oh, because that happens all the time.

MC: Right. I mean really, really completely naive, and totally full of myself. Then I moved to LA and I thought it was going to take a couple of years to attain a certain level-

EL: To become rich and famous.

MC: To be rich and famous. And it took a long time to become-

EL: It took a decade, probably.

MC: To become moderately comfortable and a C-list celebrity. But somewhere along the line I stopped thinking about that end goal of I'm on this path so that I can have influence, blah blah blah, and I just started becoming an actor, and I was just acting for the sake of acting and not for this aspirational, high-minded goal.

Then a couple of years ago we got a new president, and that lit a fire under me. It was actually during the campaign when I started to think, "Oh, Trump might get elected. Oh, this is serious," and then my C-list celebrity started to come into play and I thought, "All right, well I can use the platform that I have."

EL: By the way, I think it's at least B-minus, okay?

MC: Well you, as everyone knows, grade on a curve, so thank you for your charity. In a strange way it feels to me a little bit like it's come full circle, and now that the show's ending and after 15 seasons I'm asking the question, "Okay, how can I be of use in the world?" I don't know what's next for me. I don't know if I spend a lot of time on television sets after this or not. I'm trying to do some soul searching and figure out what I really want to be when I grow up. But that's, in a nutshell, my path.

EL: It's an amazing path, and you accomplished much more as an actor than almost any actor I know. To be a working actor and to have made some money doing it is actually an incredible accomplishment, and maybe it's to the resilience you discovered you had in your childhood.

MC: Yeah, I think possibly. I think obviously there's a lot of dumb luck that comes into play. It's not my fault that the show that I'm on has been on for 15 seasons or has the devoted fan base that it has.

EL: There are conventions for Supernatural. I notice this-

MC: We have conventions. There are tattoos with face on them. I mean, it's hard not to be full of yourself in this context. But yeah, we have a really, really devoted fan base, and it's quite remarkable to be a part of.

What was it? I think it was Freakonomics at one point. Maybe it was in the book Freakonomics, but they said that pursuing a career in acting is like pursuing a career as a drug dealer. It's very, very difficult to be one of the kingpins, to be successful in the field.

EL: Right.

MC: The odds are so bad that it takes a certain personality that's defective that wants to even pursue that in the first place, because 99 out of 100 people are going to fail at that and then you're just going to be a low level street corner drug dealer, or barely getting food on your table as a background actor.

EL: Yeah. Well Misha, we have to leave it right here for this episode of Special Sauce, but you're going to stick around and tell us all about your two terrific kids, West and Maison.

MC: We just say Mason.

EL: West and Mason.

MC: Yes, we anglicize the French spelling.

EL: And your wife Vicki, and your family collaboration on The Adventurous Eaters Club. Thank you for spending so much time with us on Special Sauce.

MC: Thank you so much for having me, and I can't wait to talk about the book.

Listen to the podcast here

[ladyscarlettwrites]

The Next Heir

Chapter 3: Jumin Finds Out

Jumin sighs heavily as he sits through another corporate meeting. Usually his father would be the one attending this meeting but he was still going to court finishing up the lawsuit he had against Glam Choi.

He glances over to his right to where Yoosung sat and was typing away into the laptop as he was taking in all the information that was being said. Jumin though himself lucky that Jaehee was able to train him quickly while he was away on his honeymoon. 

Jumin bit back a smile as he thought how happy MC would be if she were here to see him. But thought better of it because she’d be so happy that she would hug him really tightly and praise him. Jumin knows that the hug would be nothing more than a harmless hug but he wouldn’t be able to help it and get jealous of MC giving a different man any sort of attention instead of him.

Jumin glances down at the background photo on his phone and smiles softly since it’s a picture of MC on their wedding day, while she was holding onto Elizabeth the Third, before quickly looking back up when he hear Yoosung gasp. Everyone that was in the board meeting were either looking at their laptops, murmuring to each other as they look at him.

“J-Jumin...” Jumin looks over at Yoosung who slowly turns his laptop around so that Jumin could read the article that was on the screen. There were also pictures of MC, Jaehee, Zen and also of the personal doctor that he had hired for MC, entering the penthouse. And finally in big, bold letters:

IS MRS.HAN PREGNANT?!

IS JUMIN HAN REALLY THE FATHER?! Exclusive pictures of Mrs.Han and her secret lover?! And a personal interview with Mrs.Han’s doctor!

Jumin tried to contain his anger as he skimmed through the article, snapping his pen in half as he reads that it was their personal doctor that had went and told the reporters everything.

“Jumin...” Yoosung says quietly, terrified by how Jumin looks right now.

“This is all for the meeting today. I’ll have my assistant reschedule a meeting so we can continue later.” Jumin quickly stands up which causes everyone else to stand up as well and bows as he storms out of the room. Yoosung quickly gathers his stuff and follows after Jumin.

“Jumin...is it...is it really true? Is MC really pregnant?”

“I don’t know. But whether it’s true or not I want that doctor fired. I want you to contact my lawyer and get him to contact the doctor’s lawyers. Also contact Jaehee and have her make the calls to figure out how to shut those damn articles up. I’m going home to my wife!” Jumin growls as he pulls out his phone and sends a message to Driver Kim and tell him to meet him in the front of the hotel to drive him to the penthouse.

As soon as he gets in the car he tries to call MC’s number but growls in frustration as it goes to voicemail instead.

“Drive faster, Driver Kim.”

“Yes, Mr.Han.”

***********************************************************************

Jaehee sighs as she hangs up after dealing with the press and gossip reporters.”Damn reporters.” She turns on the stove and starts to prepare some tea for when MC finally wakes up.

Zen frowns and walks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

It’ll be okay, Jagiya...MC is a strong woman and even that trust fund kid will able to take care of her...”

Jaehee leans back against him and places her hands on top of his as she holds back her tears of frustration.

I should have paid more attention to the doctor. It’s all my fault.I failed as an assistant and as a best friend...”

Zen turns her around to face him and gently cups her face.

“Hey, don’t say that. This isn’t your fault, Jaehee. MC wouldn’t like to hear that you think that way about yourself either. Shit like this is bound to happen.” Zen wipes at the tears that fall down onto her cheek with his thumb. “Besides, you’re a smart, funny and a beautiful person...”

Jaehee smiles softly, “You’re too sweet, Zen.” 

Zen smirks, “I beg to differ. You’re the sweet one...” he leans in closer until his lips barely brush up against hers, “And...I’m craving something sweet right now...”

Jaehee blushes as she whispers, “But...y-your fans...!”

“I adore my fans but...I’d rather lose my career if it means that I can finally be happy by being with you...” he smiles softly before finally kissing her deeply.

Jaehee wants to protest but can’t help but lose to the side of her that wants him and kisses him back.

Zen smiles softly down at her when they pull apart and presses his forehead against hers as he runs his hands through her hair. “Have I told you that I love how long your hair has gotten?”

Jaehee blushes as she touches her hair, “Yes...many times. You’ll have MC to thank for that. She told Mr. Ha- I mean, Jumin that I should be allowed to grow out my hair if I wanted to.”

Zen scoffs, “I get why he wanted that as a requirement an order for anyone to get hired but still...it’s not right for any man to tall a woman to cut her hair short if she wants the job so that way there won’t be a scandal between the assistant and his father.”

“I don’t think the Chairman will be dating anyone soon...”

Zen nods his head, “True...but I can’t help but feel bad for the old man since he hasn’t been able to find a genuine woman to settle down with.” Zen smirks as he leans down to kiss her again. “I on the other hand have been very lucky...” Jaehee closes her eyes to kiss him again when suddenly the front door opens and they both jump apart as Jumin storms inside.

“Mr.Han!” Jaehee gasps.

“Where is she?” Jumin demands as he turns to them.

Zen quickly steps in front of Jaehee and crosses his arms, “I take it that you heard the news.”

“I don’t have time to talk to you right now. I need to see my wife.”

“She’s in the master bedroom, Mr.Han...” Jaehee speaks up from behind Zen.

Before Zen can say anything, Jumin leaves to their bedroom to find MC.

Zen rubs his forehead in frustration as Jaehee places a hand on his arm.

“Let’s go, Zen. They need to be alone while they talk.”

Zen sighs but nods his head as he gently holds her hand as they walk out.

******************************************************************************

Jumin opens the door and walks into the dark room. Elizabeth perks her head up when she sees him but doesn’t move from her spot, snuggled against MC’s neck. Jumin walks up to MC’s side of the bed and frowns when he looks down at her. He could tell that she had cried herself to sleep. He leans down and lightly presses kisses against her closed eyes, causing MC to stir and open her eyes.

“Hello, my love...”

MC quickly gets up and wraps her arms around him as she cries onto his shoulder. Jumin wraps an arm around her and lightly runs his fingers through her hair to calm her.

“I’m...I’m so s-sorry...!”

“Shh...there is no reason for you to apologize to me, my love. You did nothing wrong.”

MC pulls away to wipe her tears but Jumin cups her face gently and kisses her tears away instead.

“I...I wanted to surprise you...when you got home b-but...but now...everyone k-knows and...and not the gossip articles are...are saying,” Jumin leans down in and kisses her to stop her from talking.

“Enough, my love. Gossip articles cay try and say whatever they want but they will be severely punished for spreading false rumors about my wife. I already have my lawyers taking care of them and with that doctor as well. We will both find a better doctor for you.” He smiles softly, “and for our baby.”

MC smiles softly, “Our baby...”

Jumin returns her smile and places their hands on her belly. “Our baby...”

Both of their phones chime at the same time from the chatroom.

Yoosung: “MC is really pregnant?!”

707: Anyone wanna place bets on if it’s going to be a girl or a boy?!”

Jumin scoffs as MC just giggles and before she can reply back he takes away the phone and places both of them on the nightstand.

“You can talk to them later. Right now I want to have alone time with my wife and our baby,” Elizabeth meows at him, “and of course, with Elizabeth the Third.”

MC giggles as she lets Jumin pull her down onto the bed and holds her close as she pulls Elizabeth close to her as well.

Jumin waits until MC falls asleep before closing his eyes and joining her in sleep.

A/N: Wow! So sorry this took forever to post! A lot of things came up so I hope you’ll forgive me! Anyways, anyone wanna take a guess if the baby will be a boy or a girl?! 🤗

Oops, forgot the tags!: @misstartrekandel

[eretzyisrael]

But What About the Palestinians?

This morning I received a robo-call from the Rehovot city government to tell me that, as a senior citizen, if I had trouble getting an appointment for my Coronavirus vaccination, they would help me, and here is how to contact them. I remembered that some months ago I got a call from a human social worker employed by the city, who wanted to know how I was, how we were getting our food (this was during our first full lockdown), did we have local family to help us out, and so on.

I’ve had my differences with the city from time to time, but I am really impressed by this. They are using our tax money (Israelis pay local taxes based on the size of their homes and other factors) to provide services to the citizens! I realized how little I’ve come to expect from government, so this seemed like a big deal to me. But it’s still remarkable that they have programs in place to help those of us who are no longer ��productive citizens” in an economic sense.

And then there is the vaccination program itself. The State of Israel paid a premium price for vaccines, and set up a system to distribute them. The logistics are complicated because the Pfizer vaccine, the first to arrive here, must be kept at -70 degrees C (-94 F) and then used within several hours of being warmed. As of Tuesday, 1,700,000 Israelis had received their first vaccination, including my wife and me.

We went to the designated location, where the four HMOs that all Israelis belong to had set up stations to give vaccinations; waited only a few minutes in an open area, and received our shots (for those who speak British, “jabs”). Information was immediately entered into the nationwide computer networks of the HMOs, and our appointments for the second dose set. This was much more efficient than anything I have ever experienced in any bureaucratic setting either here or in the US, even in the IDF.

Of course Bibi is taking credit for the whole thing, as our next expensive, unnecessary election approaches. But in truth he does deserve credit for making the deals with the pharmaceutical corporations that got us large quantities of vaccine early, even while the HMOs put together the system which is expected to vaccinate the entire population by the end of March.

So this morning I have a feeling that this country cares about me, and about the rest of its citizens. The institutions like the national and local governments and the HMOs are doing their jobs, at least in this connection. They government has not done so well in managing the lockdowns, especially the last, partial one, which seems to have hurt small businesses badly while doing little to slow the spread of the virus. There are plenty of other things to criticize, but still, I am proud of my country.

But the response of the world media to Israel’s relative success in fighting the epidemic has been more hostile than anything I recall since the last time Israel was forced to defend herself against deadly rocket attacks from Gaza. “What about the Palestinians,” they screamed. Why aren’t we vaccinating them, too? “It’s because Israel is an apartheid state!”

The accusation is everywhere, in mainstream and social media, from the human rights organizations, and even from Jewish groups like J Street.

And it’s nonsense. First, Arab and Jewish Israelis, as well as Palestinian residents of Jerusalem are treated precisely the same. Second, the PA and Hamas are responsible under international law for vaccinating their citizens. The PA has said they have ordered vaccines from several manufacturers and are awaiting their arrival. Israel has promised to give surplus vaccine to the PA after our campaign is over. Israel’s public broadcaster KAN reports that Israel already gave the Palestinian Authority some 100 doses of the vaccine for “hardship cases” (probably the big shots in the PA). And the blogger Elder of Ziyon has debunked some of the accusations against Israel made by “human rights” NGOs here and here.

One of Israel’s greatest national concerns is the question of how it can become a better state, one that better performs the basic function of a state, to protect its citizens against man-made and natural dangers, and to provide economic and cultural opportunities for them. This is the purpose of our health care system, the IDF, and our Knesset, judicial system, central bank, and so forth. Although there is a certain amount of corruption it is incidental to the functioning of the overall state.

The vaccination project has been a positive force in our lives, illustrating that we need not always be passive and accept the blows that fall on us. And it shows that our big institutions (the HMOs are independent organizations, but closely controlled by the Health Ministry) can work smoothly when they have to.

The Palestinian Authority and Hamas are entirely different. Although they have government ministries, a health-care system, and many other services, they do not exist to protect their people and enable them to fulfill their economic and cultural potential. They have two functions alone: to enrich those Palestinians who are “connected,” and to fight the war against Israel with which they are obsessed. Corruption is essential, not incidental. Funds that don’t go into the pockets of the rulers go to prepare for war or to pay the soldiers. Palestinians know this and hate their rulers, but there is little they can do because the dictatorships under which they live don’t hesitate to use force against them. And in many cases, they are also slaves to their obsessive hatred of Israel.

Palestinian governments continue to encourage, pay for, and perpetrate terrorism against Israel, while “ordinary Palestinians” throw rocks at cars containing Jews, a pastime that has caused several deaths and countless serious injuries. A few weeks ago, an “ordinary Palestinian” viciously beat an innocent woman to death. Right now the concern in Ramallah is not how to vaccinate millions of Palestinians, but rather how to ensure that terrorists will continue to get paid despite Israeli restrictions on Palestinian banks.

Israel struggles to be better. Palestinians struggle to be worse. And yet, which side do the media, the Jewish Left, and the human rights industry take?

*** Sheldon Adelson died on Tuesday. He was one of Israel’s greatest supporters. He loved this country, and contributed massive amounts of his own money to make it better and to help improve its relationship with the diaspora, including hundreds of millions of dollars to Birthright, which has probably done more to counteract the hate campaign against Israel in the universities than all other PR initiatives put together. He also gave large sums to AIPAC, the Friends of the Israel Defense Forces, Yad Vashem, and the Israeli-American Council. He and his Israeli-born wife, Miri, were the major donors to a new medical school at Ariel University. He donated several Magen David Adom ambulances and mobile ICU vehicles, including some that were armored to protect them against terrorist attacks. He started the free newspaper Israel Hayom (Israel Today), which is today the paper with the largest circulation in the country, shattering the almost total monopoly on news media in Israel held by the Left. His influence on Donald Trump was partly responsible for Trump’s pro-Israel policies.

Miri Adelson will certainly continue his philanthropy, but the Jewish people and the State of Israel have lost a friend who won’t easily be replaced. BDE.

Abu Yehuda

[papermoonloveslucy]

LUCY & BEDROCK! (TWIST! TWIST!)

Lucille Ball & “The Flintstones” 

“The Flintstones” was TV’s first primetime animated sitcom. It was produced by Hannah-Barbara animation and ran on ABC TV from 1960 to 1966. Following the show's cancellation, a film called The Man Called Flintstone, a musical spy caper that parodied James Bond, was released that same year. The show was revived in the early 1970s and several different series and made-for-TV movies. The original show also was adapted into a live-action film in 1994, and a prequel, The Flintstones in Viva Rock Vegas, which followed in 2000.

Although not officially recognized by its creators, the show bears a very strong resemblance to TV’s “The Honeymooners”.  Fred and Wilma Flintstone are reminiscent of Ralph and Alice Kramden, and they have best friends and neighbors Betty and Barney Rubble that are very similar to Ed and Trixie Norton.  The original “Honeymooners” (1955-56) also was spun-off into future iterations, including musical episodes, just like “The Flintstones.”  

Lucille Ball admired “Honeymooners” creator and Jackie Gleason and Gleason even played Ralph Kramden on “Here’s Lucy.”  Ball also worked with the show’s other stars: Art Carney (in “Happy Anniversary and Goodbye” and “What Now Catherine Curtis”), Audrey Meadows (in “Mother of the Bride” on “Life With Lucy”) and even Jane Kean, who played Trixie in the color “Honeymooners” (who was seen on a 1966 episode of “The Lucy Show”).  

CAST CONNECTIONS 

Jean Vander Pyl (Wilma Flintstone / Pebbles) worked with Lucille Ball on several episodes of “My Favorite Husband” radio show in 1948. 

Alan Reed (Fred Flintstone) played a train station luncheon counter attendant in “Lucy Visits The White House” (TLS S1;E23) in 1963, while also playing Fred Flintstone on ABC.  He later appeared on an episode of Desi Arnaz’s “Mothers-in-Law”. 

Bea Benadaret (Betty Rubble) was one of Lucille Ball’s favorite performers. She played Iris Atterbury on “My Favorite Husband” and was Ball’s first choice to play Ethel Mertz.  Instead, she played Miss Lewis in “Lucy Plays Cupid” (ILL S1;E15). 

Mel Blanc (Barney Rubble) was a master of voices best known for Bugs Bunny. He also worked extensively with Jack Benny, once with Lucille Ball. He did two films with Lucille Ball: The Fuller Brush Girl (1950) and G.I. Journal (1944).  In 1969, Blanc did some ADR (dialogue replacement) work on “Here’s Lucy.” 

Hal Smith (Various Voices) is probably best known as Otis the Drunk on “The Andy Griffith Show”. He appeared with Lucille Ball in the 1963 film Critic’s Choice and did three episodes of “The Lucy Show” and one of “Here’s Lucy.”

Howard Morris (Various Voices) played Howard Coe in “Lucy and the Golden Greek” (TLS S4;E2) in 1965. 

Allan Melvin (Various Voices) is best remembered as Sam the Butcher on “The Brady Bunch” and Barney Hefner on “All in the Family.” In 1956, as Corporal Henshaw on “Sergeant Bilko,” he did was seen with Ball in “Bilko’s Ape Man.” Melvin and Ball also appeared together on the 8th Anniversary of “The Ed Sullivan Show” In 1954. 

Harvey Korman (The Great Gazzoo / Various Voices) is best remembered for his work with Carol Burnett on “The Carol Burnett Show”, several times with Lucille Ball. He also appeared on “The Lucy Show” three times. 

Janet Waldo (Mrs. Slaghoople / Hedda Rocker / Various Voices) is best remembered for voicing Judy Jetson on another Hanna-Barbera cartoon series, “The Jetsons” (1962-87). She played Peggy “Keep Jiggling” Dawson on “I Love Lucy” and Lucy Carmichael’s sister Marge on “The Lucy Show.” 

Frank Nelson (Rockbind / Rocky Stone / Various Clerks) did two recurring characters on “I Love Lucy” - Freddie Fiillmore and Ralph Ramsey, in addition to other characters. His distinctive voice was heard on “My Favorite Husband” and he made one appearance, as the harried train conductor, on “The Lucy Show.” 

June Foray (Granny / Nurses) was one of the most famous voice artists in Hollywood, most famous for Rocket J. Squirrel. Coincidentally, Warner Brothers recruited Foray to replace Bea Benadaret as Granny in their cartoons. On “I Love Lucy” she provided the bark of Fred the dog. 

Paula Winslowe (Mrs. Slate / Various Voices) played Mrs. Martha Conklin on “Our Miss Brooks” opposite Gale Gordon. On “I Love Lucy” she was one of the passengers on the S.S. Constitution in “Second Honeymoon” (ILL S5;E14) and a patient (in wheelchair, above) in “Lucy Plays Florence Nightingale” (TLS S2;E14). She was the voice of Bambi’s mother in the 1942 Disney film Bambi.

Verna Felton (Pearl Slaghoople) received two Emmy nominations for her role in the Desilu series “December Bride,” playing Hilda Crocker from 1955 to 1959. She did two episodes of “I Love Lucy,” including playing Lucy’s stern maid, Mrs. Porter. Felton voiced many characters for Disney. 

Howard McNear (Doctor) played Mr. Crawford, Little Ricky’s music teacher on “I Love Lucy.” McNear went on to play Floyd the Barber on “The Andy Griffith Show” from 1961 to 1967, filmed on the Desilu backlot. He was also seen in Lucy and Desi’s 1953 film The Long, Long Trailer.

Herb Vigran (Cop) was one of the busiest character actors in Hollywood. He played Jule, Ricky Ricardo’s music agent on two episodes of “I Love Lucy” in addition to playing movie publicist Hal Sparks in “Lucy is Envious” (ILL S3;23). He was seen in the Lucy-Desi film The Long, Long Trailer and six episodes of “The Lucy Show” - all as doctors!

Ginny Tyler (Daisy) voiced Clementine the sheep in “Lucy Buys a Sheep” (TLS S1;E5) and the bird voices in “Lucy Gets the Bird” (TLS S3;E12) and one episode of “Here’s Lucy.”  She did the voice of the sheep in Disney’s 1964 hit Mary Poppins. Although she died in 2012, her voice can still be heard in the chorus of birds outside The Enchanted Tiki Room at Disneyland and Walt Disney World.

Willard Waterman (Gus Gravel) was a versatile voice actor who appeared on hundreds of radio shows in the 1930s and 40s. He is probably best remembered for playing “The Great Gildersleeve” on both radio and TV.  He was seen on “The Lucy Show” in “Lucy and The Plumber” (above) and “Lucy the Rain Goddess” (S4;E15).  

Jerry Hausner (Clyde) was best remembered for playing Jerry, Ricky’s agent on “I Love Lucy” (including the pilot). He also did one appearance on “The Lucy Show.”

Sam Edwards (Agent) played the star-struck bellboy in “Lucy Meets the Queen” (ILL S5;E15). He was also the voice of the adult Thumper in Bambi (1942).

Sandra Gould (Various Voices) was best remembered as Gladys Kravitz on “Bewitched”.  She made two appearances on “I Love Lucy” and one (above) on “The Lucy Show.”  

Ann-Margret (Ann Margrock) was one of several celebrity guest stars to be honored with character on “The Flintstones”. She was also a guest star (as herself) on “Here’s Lucy” in 1970 and had appeared on Ann-Margret’s 1969 special. 

Elizabeth Taylor (Pearl Slaghoople in The Flintstones live action film, 1994) was one of Hollywood’s most glamorous and popular stars when she guest starred with husband Richard Burton on “Here’s Lucy” in 1970.  It is odd, then, that she was cast as Pearl Slaghoople, a character that was previously considered frumpy. 

Paul Winchell (Umpire / Thief / Reporter in "Wind Up Wilma” - 1981) was best known as a ventriloquist, but he was also an accomplished character actor who appeared in two episodes of “The Lucy Show” and two of “Here’s Lucy.” 

Arte Johnson (”Flintstone Kids” - 1989) was best known as a cast member on “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In”.  He also did an episode of “Here’s Lucy” as an eccentric bird watcher. 

George O’Hanlon (”Flintstone Kids” - 1989) was best remembered as the voice of George Jetson on “The Jetsons,” another hit Hanna-Barbera cartoon. On “I Love Lucy” he was one of two actors to play Charlie Appleby. 

"I Love Lucy” and “The Flintstones”

First, Lucille Ball bears more than a passing physical resemblance to Wilma Flintstone. In “The Flintstones” it is clear that Fred is the leading character and most stories revolve around Fred and Barney, rather than Lucy and Ethel. The tried and true formula of a leading couple and the best friends / neighbors as the secondary characters is used in “I Love Lucy”, “The Honeymooners” and “The Flintstones”.  

Here are a few more tangible connections:

The animated Lucy and Desi that opened pre-syndication airings of “I Love Lucy” were created by the Hanna-Barbera unit at MGM. 

And both shows were sponsored by cigarette companies; “I Love Lucy” by Philip Morris and “The Flintstones” by Winston.  

Wilma and Betty trying to sneak into the Water Buffalo convention in "Ladies Night at the Lodge" (1964) while disguised as men was very close to Lucy and Ethel disguising themselves as male reporters to infiltrate Ricky’s daddy shower in “Ricky Has Labor Pains” (1953). 

The plot of “Operation Switchover” (1964) recycles the premise and many of the same plot elements of “Job Switching” (1952) especially with the domestic disasters on Ricky and Fred's end: scorched clothes while ironing, a fallen cake, and overflowing rice on the stove. 

Like Lucy Ricardo, Wilma Flintstone’s pregnancy was incorporated into the storyline. It was originally thought that like Lucy, Wilma would have a boy, but merchandisers pointed out that there were more opportunities for products for girls, so Pebbles was born. Like Lucille Ball, Jean Vander Pyl (who voiced Wilma) was pregnant at the time of recording and gave birth to her son on the day "The Blessed Event" originally aired on February 22, 1963.

Fred and Barney undertake a rehearsal for the big moment, including Betty rehearsing telephoning the doctor, just like Ricky and the Mertz’s do for Lucy when ‘the time has come’. 

Wilma seems to get cravings for unusual foods including hot fudge and sardines that Fred dutifully supplies, just like Ricky did for Lucy. 

In the father’s waiting room, a man worries his wife might deliver more than one baby, just like Mr. Stanley (Charles Lane) on “I Love Lucy.”

In “Operation Switchover” a character named Hedda Rocker from Good Cavekeeping Magazine is obviously inspired by Hedda Hopper, the famous gossip columnist who appeared on two episodes of “I Love Lucy” as herself. 

Arthur Murray, who’s innovate dance instruction method and dance studios became iconic, is parodied on “The Flintstones” as Arthur Quarry.  In a 1965 episode, he was named Arthury Murrayrock. 

In “Lucy Meets the Mustache” (LDCH S3;E3) Lucy wants to open a sealed letter so she tries a inserting a knitting needle under the flap, a method she says she saw in an Alfred Hitchcock movie. The scene is underscored with “Funeral March of a Marionette” by Charles Gounod, which served as the theme tune of “Alfred Hitchcock Presents”. On “The Flintstones” he is parodied as Alvin Brickrock. 

Hollyrock star Rock Quarry is a tribute to Rock Hudson, but talks like Gary Cooper.  Hudson guest-starred on an episode of “I Love Lucy” set in Palm Springs. Previously, Lucy dressed as Gary Cooper (complete with his trademark ‘yup’) to fool near-sighted Caroline Appleby. 

An episode titled “The Soft Touchables” is modeled after Desilu’s hit gangster series “The Untouchables.” “The Lucy Show” parodied their own show in an episode titled “Lucy The Gun Moll” (TLS S4;E25) in 1966 starring “The Untouchables Cast” but using different character names. 

Wilma and Betty’s favorite television show “Peek-A-Boo Camera” catches Fred and Barney acting silly in a 1963 episode that is clearly modeled after TV’s “Candid Camera” created by Allen Funt. In 1971, “Lucy and the Candid Camera” (HL S4;E14) also featured Funt in hidden camera shot plot. Lucy Carmichael also get involved in a hidden camera television show in “Lucy and the Beauty Doctor” (TLS S3;E24).  In that show, the program was called “The Boiling Point.”

The hit Broadway and movie musical movie My Fair Lady inspired many satires (some in name only) including “My Fair Freddy” (1966) and “My Fair Lucy” (TLS S3;E20) in 1965! 

In “Fred Flintstone Woos Again” (1961) Wilma convinces Fred to renew their wedding vows after realizing the official who originally married them wasn’t fully licensed!  On “I Love Lucy” Lucy realized that their wedding was also invalid when she found an error on their license. They go to the spot they first wed to renew their vows, just like “The Flintstones”. 

In “Dial ‘S’ for Suspicion” (1962) Wilma's devotion to a murder mystery novel causes Fred to wonder if Wilma is trying to away with him. In “Lucy Thinks Ricky Is Trying To Do Away With Her” (ILL S1;E4) Lucy's devotion to a murder mystery novel causes her to wonder if Ricky is trying to do away with her!

When Wilma can’t keep up with the housework, she hires a maid in “Wilma the Maid” (1963). The same situation happened in the Ricardo home in “Lucy Hires a Maid” (ILL S2;E23). While the Flintstone’s maid is an earthy Italian woman named Rockabrigida, the Ricardo’s maid is a humorless woman named Mrs. Porter. Coincidentally, Mrs. Porter was played by Verna Felton, who voices Pearl Slaghoople on “The Flintstones”. 

When superhero “Superstone” is hired for a birthday party but can’t make it - Fred takes his place. On “I Love Lucy” when Superman is promised for Little Ricky’s party, but can’t make it, Lucy takes his place - nearly! 

In “How To Pick A Fight With Your Wife” (1966) spats between spouses escalate to such a degree that the couples split: Fred and Barney are thrown together as roommates, while Wilma and Betty are bunking together at the other house. In “Vacation from Marriage” (ILL S2;E6) much the same thing occurs between the Ricardos and the Mertzes!

The real comparison with Lucy and Desi is something Joe Barbera could have only hoped for in 1960 — enduring popularity. Lucy is still justifiably loved by hoards of fans and “I Love Lucy” is on the air somewhere. “The Flintstones” remains a part of the popular culture, 60 years after the show’s debut.   

[latristereina]

UNDERRATED RELATIONSHIP/PARTNERSHIP/FRIENDSHIP MEME 1/?: my choice: Isabella I of Castile & Ferdinand II of Aragon

Catherine’s parents, Ferdinand and Isabella, were the most remarkable royal couple of the age. They were both sovereigns in their own right: Isabella of Castile, Ferdinand of Aragon. Castile formed the larger, western part of what we now call Spain, stretching from the Bay of Biscay in the north to the marches of the Islamic kingdom of Granada to the south. It was a country of torrid, sunburned mountains and castles and high plains roamed by vast flocks of sheep. The territories of Aragon lay to the east. They were smaller, but richer and greener, encompassing the foothills of the Pyrenees, the fertile valleys of the Mediterranean coast and the great trading city of Barcelona. The traditions of the two kingdoms were as distinct as their landscapes. Castile was insular, aristocratic and obsessed with the crusade against the Moors in which lay its origin and continuing raison d’être. Aragon, in contrast, was an open, mercantile society: it looked north, across the Pyrenees towards France, and east, across the Mediterranean towards Italy. To a striking extent, the two sovereigns embodied the different characteristics of their realms. Isabella was intense, single-minded and ardently Catholic, while Ferdinand was a devious and subtle schemer. But he was much more: a fine soldier, who won more battles, both in person and by his generals, than any other contemporary ruler; a strategist, with a vision that was European in scale and grandeur; and a realist, who had the wit not to let his numerous successes go to his head. Understandably, Machiavelli worshipped him as the most successful contemporary practitioner of the sort of power politics he himself recommended: ‘From being a weak king he has become the most famous and glorious king in Christendom. And if his achievements are examined, they will all be found to be very remarkable, and some of them quite extraordinary.’They married in 1469, he aged seventeen, she a year or so older. Immediately Isabella was disinherited by her brother, Henry IV of Castile, in favour of his doubtfully legitimate daughter, Joanna. After the death of Henry IV in 1474, a civil war broke out between niece and aunt. This resulted in Isabella’s victory and proclamation as Queen of Castile, and Joanna’s retreat into a nunnery. Five years later, Ferdinand succeeded his father in Aragon. Ferdinand was the son of John II by his second marriage, and only after two deaths, both rumoured to be by poison, was he delivered the throne. Having fought everybody else to a standstill, Ferdinand and Isabella then threatened to come to blows themselves. He was determined to be King indeed in Castile; she was equally resolute to preserve her rights as Queen Regnant. Finally their quarrel was submitted to formal arbitration. This established the principle of co-sovereignty between the two. Justice was executed jointly when they were together and independently if they were apart. Both their heads appeared on the coinage and both their signatures on royal charters, while the seals included the arms of both Castile and Aragon. And these were quartered, as a gesture of equality, rather than Ferdinand’s arms of Aragon ‘impaling’ Isabella’s arms of Castile, as was usual between husband and wife. Such power-couple equality was unusual enough in a medieval royal marriage. But, in fact, Isabella was the first among equals since, with the exception of the agreed areas of joint sovereignty, the administration of Castile was reserved to her in her own right. Not surprisingly, Ferdinand jibbed. But he soon submitted and, united, the pair carried all before them. For, despite Ferdinand’s four bastards by as many different mothers, he and his wife were genuinely, even passionately, in love. But even in this there was rivalry. ‘My Lady,’ one of Ferdinand’s letters to the Queen begins, ‘now it is clear which of us two loves best.’ But they were in love with their growing power even more than with each other.

- David Starkey, Six Wives: The Queens of Henry VIII

The reign of Ferdinand and Isabella was called by Prescott ‘the most glorious epoch in the annals’ of Spain. Generations of Spaniards, contrasting their own times with those of the Catholic Kings, would look back upon them as the golden age of Castile. The conquest of Granada, the discovery of America, and the triumphant emergence of Spain on to the European political stage lent unparalleled lustre to the new State created by the Union of the Crowns, and set the seal of success on the political, religious, and economic reforms of the royal couple. Against the conventional picture of a glorious spring-time under Ferdinand and Isabella, too soon to be turned to winter by the folly of their successors, there must, however, be set some of the less happy features of their reign. They had united two Crowns, but had not even tentatively embarked on the much more arduous task of uniting two peoples. They had destroyed the political power of the great nobility, but left its economic and social influence untouched. They had reorganized the Castilian economy, but at the price of reinforcing the system of latifundios and the predominance of grazing over tillage. They had introduced into Castile certain Aragonese economic institutions, monopolistic in spirit, while failing to bring the Castilian and Aragonese economies any closer together. They had restored order in Castile, but in the process had overthrown the fragile barriers that stood in the way of absolutism. They had reformed the Church, but set up the Inquisition. And they had expelled one of the most dynamic and resourceful sections of the community – the Jews. All this must darken a picture that is often painted excessively bright. Yet nothing can alter the fact that Ferdinand and Isabella created Spain; that in their reign it acquired both an international existence and – under the impulse given by the creative exuberance of the Castilians and the organizing capacity of the Aragonese – the beginnings of a corporate identity. Out of their long experience, the Aragonese could provide the administrative methods which would give the new monarchy an institutional form. The Castilians, for their part, were to provide the dynamism which would impel the new State forward; and it was this dynamism which gave the Spain of Ferdinand and Isabella its distinguishing character.

- J. H. Elliott, Imperial Spain 1469-1716

This pairing may come as a surprise, given Isabella and Ferdinand are well known, but does it mean they're appreciated? In my opinion, they are not. In spite of their relative fame, my enormous effort to spread the knowledge about them, their reign, and their dynasty, a few here know how to appreciate their dynamics.

AN: Since I don't know all the relationships/partnerships/friendships in history, any suggestions are welcomed, give me your suggestion or your request, and I will gladly do research, and then make a post. Suggestions concerning source material are welcomed as well.

[jadeowl19]

i'm so overwhelmed with many questions right now, what the heck... what would the coreloius siblings see if they look into the mirror of erised? what is jacob's patronus? what strong happy memory/thought do they think when casting a corporeal patronus? do you see them living to old age, or dying young? what will happen to the coreloius parents once their house burns down and their kids have hauled tail? what do they work as, ministry of magic workers? what place did they have during the war?

Alright, So there is a lot of drama. 

I know that you have a lot of questions zksksk and I LOVE YOU but I’ll focus on one point and one point only today. What happens after the cursed vaults with their parents.

Okay, so lets start from the beginning. The Coreloius Family aka the pure-blood ravenclaw family had three kids. The oldest was Edward, the second oldest was Bridgette and there was Stephan.

(its gonna be a long post so, if you are up for it… please read on!!!)

The Corel family was actually very kind and nice and they helped muggles and other people with their knowledge. They were Ravenpuffs basically. However, the three children’s mother had fallen apart with the father because he has become a death eater and she refused to take part in it and she took the three children and raised them on her own. Guess who missed dad the most. 🤡🤡🤡 Yes it was Stephan who was the black sheep of the family. He didn’t understand how his family could share magic with non pure-bloods. One day, the dad came back to them feigning to be homesick and wanting to see the children. Long story short, Stephan had really missed him so much and that day, He made a decision to follow his dad and Stephan left with him, leaving his mother and his siblings behind. He came back later. But he was different. A LOT different.

Anyway, Stephan married and had two kids called Jacob and Salatirwell. Big surprise there huh. He wanted to raise a family of his own. A pure-blood family who were destined to be great and did not use their powers and knowledge to unworthy people. That did not go well. 

Coming back to now, after the vaults, Sal and J corel makes a pact. No going back home, no stabbing each other in the backs, we are siblings and we’ll help each other get out of this shit and then finally we’ll go our separate ways. 

So first of all, they look for places to stay. They had none. Everyplace was too dangerous and the parents were going to find them in mere seconds. After racking their brains they got the idea of relatives? I know, the thought about having relatives were very foreign to them BUT J corel did remember very faintly that his dad had told him once that he hated his family? So with that little piece of hope, they began to search and they found out that they actually had a aunt and a uncle. But the Uncle, Edward Coreloius had already passed away at a early age with his wife and kids in a fire accident. So that was a no.However Aunt Bridgette was still alive? and apparently she was hiding somewhere. Turns out that she was scared of her younger brother. And long story short, they found her (Corel tingle) and they talked to her with desperation and she lets them stay.

So the drama starts when Aunt Bridgette breaks the news to them that the Coreloius Household had been burned to the ground. They have been staying there for almost a year and it was peaceful and they were a family.

after hearing the news Jacob was like, No way we’re nOT going to check it out. Sal however, wants to go and check it out immediately. J corel looses the argument and they go check it out. And, what do you know. It was still standing there. J corel was very very skeptical , however Sal wanted to actually GO IN the place. Sal was…. drawn to the house. It both beheld memories that they both didn’t want to think again, but it was calling them inside. 

Long story short, they go in. It was a trap. They were too late

 they meet their parents again with a couple of death eaters. The whole point of this trap was, according to the mother, she wanted to see the children once again and persuade them to turn to the dark side. The father just wanted to punish them for betraying him. After all he had done for them, they run away? it was unforgiving and he was furious. However he had just waited for the right timing to real them in. This part is very painful for me to say but Sal is very shook at that moment and all her past memories of this horrid house is coming back to her like a freight train and she doesn’t have time to brace for it? she looses her cool, but Jacob is still intact with his sane mind thankfully. However after Jacob answers for himself and sal that they are so not interested in participating, the father turns them over to the death eaters. 

The mother is too scared but she just thinks they would change their mind after some intense “persuasion” (yes she is out of her mind). Basically, they get tortured. The death eaters were just cruel people who just thought that this whole family drama was so funny. I wont say no more, but both the siblings experience the most pain they ever had in their lives. 

But ofcourse, with some team effort, they manage to get out by a portkey that J corel made before they got caught. Yes im still working on the details but they DO get out, causing some damage. However before they escape Jacob gets hit by a spell cast by the father and this is where he looses his eye.

Painful, I know, but this was a sort of a redemption i gave to him. 

So, yes,,,, where does the burning house take place? 

 They manage to drag themselves back to the house where they have stayed with Aunt Bridgette. And…. its burning. Hence the first panel of the two staring at the house. Sal goes in, leaving Jacob in the field. Jacob is having a hard time seeing through the pain so he was helpless at the moment. As she goes in , she meets Aunt Bridgette trapped in there. However it turns out Aunt Bridgette had sold the two over to save her own skin but was betrayed at the last moment. She begged to Sal to save her, but sal was so done with all of this and she just leaves her. 

this whole story, was what i had in mind the miniute i made the corelious siblings. It was my plan? my story planned out for them all along and im very glad to share this with you!! of course, the struggle between them and their parents is not over yet, but maybe later. This was hell of a ride and i really hope you enjoy this!!!!!! 

dont worry, after this they inherit the family fortune (ofcourse they should)) and they buy themselves a nice house and they learn to trust each other. After all they have been through? it was inevitable. THANK YOU FOR READING ALL THIS!!!!!!!!