#also picking Sad Dennis Content

[softhowerton]

Dennis // Alone And Sublime

[shes-an-oddbird]

A Very long list of Season 5 Predictions/Wish List

I tried to hit as many of the characters as possible so this is really really long

The trickiest thing about this show seems to be the ever growing cast creating several stories at once and the fact that it’s a show about first responders so even characters that don’t seem like they would follow that career choice end up there and those that don’t sometimes feel out of place.

This is not to say that I don’t LOVE AND ADORE FIREFIGHTER ALBERT HAN! (but really kind of thought it came out of nowhere and yet I’m not surprised because what else were they going to do with him?)

It seems unlikely they’d assign Albert to the 118 unless Bobby requests him like he did with Eddie, but I think Bobby might have some hesitations about that. They’re already as close as family and sometimes make dangerous decisions because of it. He might feel its better for Albert to be with a different fire house or maybe Chimney would.

But he’s a regular so putting him with the 118 would be the best way to give him screen time

I personally think he’ll be assigned to the 133 since we’ve seen a bit of them this season. I’d love if there was a fun rivalry between the two firehouses (whichever one Albert ends up at.) I’ve said it before that the 118 is probably notorious at this point for the weird situations they get into. The teasing and the taunting would just be so much fun to watch. Albert talking to Chim or Buck and just being like, so the guys told me about this time…

Actually can we take a moment to appreciate that the 118 got ANOTHER firetruck destroyed and this one wasn’t even theirs. The 133 spends FIVE MINUTES with Buck and Eddie and their truck is in shambles.

On a more serious note, we might meet Chimney and Albert’s dad. I’m thinking he’s not going to be thrilled about his youngest joining the fire department and show up to talk some sense into him and scold Chimney for letting him do it.

I’m so confused about how much time has passed? How long does it take to become a firefighter? They must have some sort of plan for him because cutting out him going through training seems like a lost opportunity. It’s a story we haven’t really seen through anything but montages. Is it difficult? Would he try to quit? I’d have liked to see him making the decision in the first place.

putting the rest under here because its really a lot

We’ll also miss Eddie recovering (and Bobby too actually), which I’m a little bummed about but not devastated. It sounds like we won’t see much in the way of the effects of either shooting but can’t do anything about that now unless they flash back and have them work towards that moment on the roof.

My biggest concern with the time jump is missing literally any of Maddie’s story. I don’t know much about PPD or if its called recovery or overcoming it but I do want to see Maddie work through that and Chimney and the others supporting her.

I think her leaving the dispatch center will be temporary but it may take half or all of next season for her to return.

Maybe she’ll take over for May, if she does go off to school

Or May might continue working at Dispatch and going to school.

If she doesn’t go to school Athena is not going to be very happy with her. But maybe we could get Maddie and Josh being big siblings to May which is an underappreciated dynamic. Maybe it will help Maddie cope with how useless she’s feeling with Jee.

I’ll need to rewatch to see if they say what May wants to do but maybe she’ll study journalism or something that will keep her in the loop of the main characters the way it does Taylor.

And speaking of Taylor, she is actually a very interesting character, whether you like her (morally) or not. I think we’ll see more of her in season 5 and I genuinely think she’ll fall hard for Buck. And I think everyone needs to chill about how it’ll destroy her character.  We’ve already established that Taylor is like the female version of Buck (with a bit more sense maybe but a mirror if him non the less). If Buck is allowed to grow and want an actual relationship, is anyone really surprised they’d have Taylor go through that too.

She’s just a few steps behind, like he’s in relationship phase and she’s just coming to terms with her own feelings for him

My big concern, since they like to break Buck’s poor little heart, is that she’ll leave. She’ll get a job opportunity and pick it over Buck. I think it would be a hard decision for her but in character. Or maybe they’ll surprise us and make Buck and Taylor endgame (I know a lot of people don’t want to hear that but I could see it happening that way)

On the flip side I don’t know what’s going to happen with Eddie and Ana. I know she’s pretty much hated but its super unclear what the plan is other than that they’ll eventually break up per what Carla implied. I suspect they’ll be together for a bit of season five until Eddie figures out what’s up with what his heart wants. I don’t think Ana is some awful witch so the break up will probably be mutual or at the very least Ana won’t be surprised.

But hopefully we get more than just that as far as Eddie goes. The episodes we do get that are focused on him are really some of my favorites. They are wrapping up his moving on from Shannon arc which is cool. The trying to be a good father to Christopher will always be there, that’s something that will never change and always be a growing/learning experience.

I’d love to meet one or both of Eddie’s sisters. They don’t have to stick around long term like Albert did but to have them pop up with some crisis would be interesting and we could learn more about Eddie and the dynamic with his family which seems loving but strained.

Maybe we will see Eddie working more with Hen too. I was wondering if they’d make Eddie a full paramedic to take over for her eventually, which I decided they probably won’t do. But one episode of Buck distressed over the fact that he and Eddie wouldn’t be partners anymore would be fun drama.

The two really are just at a loss without each other and I love that. They get so pouty when they’re apart.

I don’t know what other plans they might have for Buck next season. I suspect we’ll see him worrying over Maddie and I’d kill to see him watching Jee-Yun.

I don’t know how old she’ll be because of the time jump but can you imagine Buck watching the baby and it just being an absolute disaster. So he starts calling everyone in a panic and we get firefam taking care of Baby Jee, maybe while Chim and Maddie are at a therapy session or just a weekend away for themselves.

I’m convinced the Baby would love Eddie. I think its just me projecting my desire for Eddie and Maddie to interact more. But like Hen teasing him because of course the baby loves him, all the girls love Eddie, he’s got the pretty face. Buck being super jealous that Jee likes him more. Eddie being genuinely surprised because he felt like such a failure when Chris was a baby. 

Denny, Harry and Christopher are all getting older too so there has got to be a story there with at least one, if not all of them. Harry was sidelined this season but I love that kid, he is the spawn of Athena and Michael and we already know he’s a little trouble maker. Match that with Christopher who is sassy and too smart for his own good and Denny who is clearly the good kid of the bunch. I don’t know, it’s another lost opportunity if they don’t do something with that.

They could assign Karen and Hen an older foster kid who’s maybe not such a good influence at first. Unless they opt for just younger ones, I’m not really sure how that works. But they could get one that’s not as easy as nia and they have to work for that bond.

Might be they adopt them at the end

I hope we see more of Hen’s mom and med school friends but not like a crazy amount. The cast is already too big but I love them so an occasional appearance would be welcome.

I love David and Michael too but they always seem like the hardest to work in because, as stated, they are not first responders. David is a doctor though so maybe we’ll see some interaction with him and Hen. And all the Bobby and Michael content is welcome.

I NEED A WEDDING NEXT SEASON! Just pick a pair and marry them please!!! Maddie and Chimney!!! Michael and David!!! Someone, please! Even just a proposal?! Maybe? Please?

And there will be another crossover event which is exciting because I really enjoyed the first one. I wonder if they’ll come to LA this time and what would bring them there. With the scheduling of the shows next season they won’t have to tie them together so much time frame wise. They literally could just be popping in for a visit. I’m not gonna lie when I thought about another crossover I really wanted Bobby the self-taught chef to meet Charles the actual chef but now I can’t have that and it makes me so sad.

Putting all this out there is a really good way to insure it never happens, but still, they seem like logical places to go as of the finale.

[geekkatsblog]

Grey's Anatomy season 17×06 Review

(How the f**k they just gonna leave me on read like this till March 4th)

The episode was a rollercoaster but something tells me the real ride is going to happen from the next episode.

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Maggie

I knew Winston was gonna show up in person at some point or the other. When he dropped the long distance wasn't working line and put the phone down in her ear so he could get some 'eggs' I knew he was in Seattle, good for her she's going to need him to lean on seeing that Mer freaking crashed again. At least she'll have somebody there for her because all her other support is personally attached to Meredith as well.

Besides Winston turning up, treating Tom and her being understandably giddy at Mer being awake there was also a scene where she educated Amelia on some things now I won't get into the details again but I'm just in love with the fact that Grey's isn't afraid to touch on controversial topics, they use their large platform to raise awareness and their speeches are always on point.

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Teddy/Owen

(She needed the time off more than Bailey did tbh)

My God was it satisfying when Richard literally just tore into her. She put herself in the situation and is now taking her anger out on others which is really in poor taste. Poor Helm, I hope she didn't take it personally. At this point it's her time to annoy me, I miss the season 6 Teddy, hopefully she redeems herself soon. After being torn apart by Webber's words she then proceeds to make things worst by revealing yet another big secret to Owen at work. (At least this time it was on purpose.) She just needs to take some time away and think on what she really wants and needs to reflect before spontaneously starting potentially life changing conversations. First it was telling Tom they had a chance then it was telling Owen that she still loves him and the kids while also revealing that she named their daughter after not only her best friend but also the woman that she was very much in love with. Pick a struggle Teddy at this point she's seeming confused more than anything else.

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Owen

For the past few seasons Owen was one of the characters getting on my nerves but lately he's been fine. He hasn't redeemed himself yet but his probation is going fine. Watching this show really shows how good of a person a doctor has to be in order to follow the ethical guidelines. If I had that scum bag for a patient I would have literally just pretended to fail at saving him and let the guy die, (guess that's why the Lord made me suck at Chemistry and Physics) his response to Bob about him being at the devils barbecue was badass, gave me serious season 5 Owen vibes or vibes like when he punched that guy out for disrupting the ER when he was chief, Major Hunt reporting for duty.

As for him and Teddy I can get why he was upset, her he was about to attempt to make amends at probably rekindling a friendship or maybe their relationship and she revels that your daughter is named after her lover, she could have atleast told him that when they were in the naming process, he deserved to know exactly who his child was being named after. I'm kinda a bitch but there was no way I'd feel comfortable having my child named after my partner's lover. On the other hand he should hear her out he has literally cheated twice and both times he sat and was able to share his side of the story and the woman he was with listened to his explanations. Teddy deserves as much, it might hurt but he did the same and Karma unfortunately is still a bitch.

___________________________________________

Bailey

(I just wanted to give her a hug the whole night.)

She has a really unhealthy habit of working through her grief, first her miscarriage and now through the death of her mom. I'm honestly sad that Ben had to be the one to comfort Tuck and tell him his grandmother had even died (she's always so busy, Ben is pratically the one raising him at this point.) And I'm also upset that I haven't gotten to see Ben being there for her either. I'm assuming it might be a protocol on the sets.

At least she took time off of the cases, I understand why she didn't want to go home as a doctor she has the highest risk of transporting the virus, but her mind understandably wasn't going to be in the doctoring game. I really thought they were gonna make her freeze up and accidentally kill a patient or something, but at least they didn't go down that line. And what even happened to her dad? did he take the Covid test? Wheres he staying now? Is he safe?

The conversations between her and Deluca were sweet, it's another unexpected friendship, before the only one she really disclosed any details of her life with was Richard but now they're opening her support group which is fine. I'm also glad that Deluca was able to look past the whole fiasco last season and hold no grudges. She has now fully redeemed herself completely, she's still my all time favorite character but from season 13 to probably mid season 16 she really had some storylines and scenes that irked me to watch and made me question some things, but now she's back on track at least to me.

Also I know that Richard is the chief of chiefs but how are they just gonna let him take back over the surgery unit like that again? I mean I did miss him as chief but now Bailey just basically seems like a regular old surgeon with a fancy office, idk it just seems kinda weird to me.

___________________________________________

Jackson

Not only carrying on the work and teachings of Mark Sloan but also using his boatload of cash to rescue a patient's mother from racist police who should have been the ones actually in prison. That was basically it for him though.

___________________________________________

Jo

Oml I honestly almost forgot she was even really in the episode. She had so little screen time. She's still in the middle of transitioning to OB. I have no issue with that because OB's still can do surgery, so we'll still get to see her and she'll be happy again plus it's about time that Grey's cashes in that Regulars card on Carina. We see her on Station 19 as an accessory I want to see the Jo and Carina tag team.

___________________________________________

Amelia

Not really much in this episode. No content with Link she just did surgery to save the scum with Owen. They may have made a mediocre couple but they work good as friends. Also I'm assuming she's off of maternity leave now? Did they mention that I'm not sure but she's back now.

___________________________________________

Richard

Not much of a storyline, he made the decision to put Meredith on the Vent and is busy running the hospital as the chief of the hospital again I guess. And also spitting the much needed facts that Teddy needed to hear.

___________________________________________

Tom

They're finally showing more of Tom's good side, I mean I always liked him and saw the potential in his character but they never really showed his soft side for a prolonged period like they did today. May I just say I enjoyed his and Meredith's friendly banter they have the same lowkey dark humor and at least it would have taken their minds off of being sick especially for him because he basically has no one else. Hearing him open up about his son and expressing how he'd do anything to hear him say dad again was sad I can only imagine his pain. Meredith was his reason for holding on especially after he had to witness his roommate die from Covid, the same thing he's suffering from right before his eyes and now Mer back unconscious this time with a tube down her throat I'm just really hoping that he keeps the faith, the last thing we need is a death right now.

___________________________________________

Meredith

(God damn it Mer all you had to do was stay awake.)

For a few brief moments all was right with the world Meredith was awake and everyone was happy and then she just had to go be Wonder Woman and over exert herself, but that's the thing they would have probably needed armed guards at the doors to keep her from putting someone else's life above her own, its one of her best qualities and at times one of her worst. I knew it was too good to be true when she was awake and laughing. It was giving me Mark Sloan final episode vibes. They better not kill her off that would be the worst ending for me, what about the kids? Step off the damn beach Mer you've gone through too much to let Covid take you out. On the other hand this gives us more beach scenes. It's more unlikely to have a live character return but there's still lots of dead ones to choose from, her mother is always a likely suspect, Denny loved being on the show and I think Breaking bad had its final season, Mark is a toss up based on how he cut ties with the show and Lexie is also a toss up because she is filming Supergirl in another country, however anything is possible with Grey's. I thought the beach scenes were over because she was waking up but look how wrong I was. All I hope is that they don't kill her off its unlikely because she's the main character but still its Grey's they like to go out with a bang.

___________________________________________

Deluca

I left him for last because to me he really did have the biggest storyline of the night.

Firstly I'm glad to see that at least part of the earliers season's Deluca has returned. I loved him as the passionate, badass and almost cocky guy as well but I always missed his more compassionate and softer side more. I'm glad to see it back and I'm also glad to see that he's taking his meds and resting, and I can confirm that having support is a needed factor in treating mental health. As strange as it was seeing the Bailey and Deluca chat it's good that they both have each other. They both suffer from mental illnesses and can relate to each other on a different level. They have me wondering now if they're going to use his mental health issues as a way to separate him and Mer, or use it as the reason why he pursued her, kinda like how they tried to blame Amelia's tumor for her bad decisions and then used it to break her and Owen up. I guess we'll just have to see where Merluca will go from here or if it will manifest Merhaynes instead.

Now onto the big stuff, the whole sex trafficking thing the whole episode I was literally yelling at the tv for either Deluca, Bailey or Carina to see that bitch, the moment it was connected that the kidnapper was involved in trafficking and she showed up I knew shit was about to go down. My heart was racing when I saw her with Schmitt. I really thought she was going to attack him with how sus she was being, luckily she had to go to avoid further suspicion. They need to put security on those girls' door. They've been through enough. If she goes to finish off Bob then no one cares but the girls don't deserve to go through anything else and Deluca after seeing her decided to go after him himself instead of calling the police, granted the police wasn't doing anything helpful but the last thing we need is for him to go after her himself like Superman and trying to save the day. At least Carina went with him so she can help talk him down if necessary but there's only so much she can do.

___________________________________________

There are too many damn superheroes in that hospital.

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My questions are:

• Will both Tom and Meredith make it out of the Covid sickness or will one or even both of them die?

• Will Teddy finally make her mind up so that the Teddy, Tom and Owen love triangle can finally have an ending?

• Who the hell is coming to the beach next? And can they tell Meredith to get her ass off of the beach and never return until she's like 80?

• Will Superman, I mean Deluca save the day without needing medical attention afterwards? Or worst yet needing a casket?

• Is Jo actually switching specialties?

• Are they going to go after the girls or kill Bob instead?

• How is it going to go with Maggie and Winston now that he has arrived in person?

• And lastly and most importantly what am I supposed to do with my Thursday nights until March 4th.

[lambourngb]

This Hard Journey

Fic prompt: “There’s something you should know…” Michael Guerin Day 2. This picks up after yesterday’s “This Hard Life” - a part of interconnected ficlets of an AU after the shed, where Alex doesn’t join the Air Force. Mentions of Malex and an Alex/Other here. Finished on ao3 here.

***

He finally got a dog, was all that Michael could think as he sat outside of the house that matched the address Max pulled from the DMV.  They had always wanted to get a dog together, but with pet deposits and the tight budget for rent and food, that had always been a non-starter for them. Not anymore.

The quiet shaded street just off of the Buchanan Arts District was lined with old-style Craftsman homes among the peppered in new, renovated sprawling McMansions born of the house flipping obsession during the real estate boom. New construction sprouting between old, mature trees, juxtaposing progress with tradition.

Alex had chosen one of the older homes, untouched by the remodeling fad with a large fenced in yard filling the property footprint, and a dog house that mimicked the main house in style. Two solid years of song-writing had rewarded Alex with financial security, and of course, after three years living in cramped efficiency apartments and noisy neighbors with Michael, the first thing Alex would want again was a house. The roots of his upper middle class childhood were never far away.

Pressing his forehead against the steering wheel, Michael worked to gather the courage that kept him propelled down the over 1,100 miles from Roswell to Nashville. He had made it here, the least he could do was knock on the door instead of freaking out over the fact that Alex had a house with a mortgage while all Michael could muster in the two years since was buying a bank-possessed Airstream.

At least it was better than sleeping rough in his truck again, something he had done when he fell behind on the rent after Alex had left.

Michael took a deep steadying breath and pushed himself out of his truck. The spans of sidewalk suddenly seemed longer than I-40 through Oklahoma. Another deep breath, the irony of borrowing Alex’s self-soothing habit not lost on Michael at all, he tucked his left hand into a pocket to hide the old damage and knocked firmly on the front door.

There was a long silence extended, shoving anticipation into chagrin as Michael turned his head to peek at the tiny side-carport, confirming there was a car there. A loud, chorus of deep barks picked up from within the house. The dog sounded big, but none of that registered as he picked up Alex’s voice, muffled and indistinct.

“-calm down, buddy. Stay- no, stay- It’s probably Daddy’s new speakers arriving-”

After two and half days of driving, Michael had perfected his speech to Alex. It hit every open wound between them, from the fact he was sorry he hadn’t gone with him, to the weak but true explanation that he wasn’t ready then, but he was now. Then finally the big dice throw, the gamble of everything, that every city needed a good mechanic, Nashville was no different, it was no pressure- but maybe? Maybe they could start over?

The door swung open, and like a bag of spilled marbles, all of Michael’s words scattered away from him.

“Michael?” Alex’s polite smile for an expected delivery dropped into disbelieving shock. He did a comical double take, looking back into the house, then to Michael, then over Michael’s shoulder. The classic Chevy truck parked on the street chased away the shock. “Jesus Christ, it really is you.”

“Alex.” Michael swallowed, his eloquence gone. “You look good.”

They had had three years together, and during that time Michael had seen so many different versions of Alex Manes. He had seen Alex tired, dark circles shading his eyes more consistently than eyeliner with an off-kilter alien antennae from the Crashdown. He had seen Alex resolute, using his shoulders to impart a warning in his black clad Wild Pony shirt to any drunk who dared to give him a hard time. He had seen Alex awkward, as he helped Michael with his chores at the Foster’s ranch when it came to cleaning out a cow pen or pulling the twine efficiently off baled hay. He had seen Alex ashamed, as Michael patiently explained during their first grocery store visit that the EBT card only covered certain items.

This Alex was new. Clean, well-rested, skin clear and not tight on his cheekbones from lean meals or bloated from cheap food. An earring shined from his ear, he was dressed in a soft v-neck shirt and artfully cut frayed jeans. Good was an understatement.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here- I’m here because Isobel got married, and um, she wanted to invite you, but I talked her out of it. I’m sorry. I mean for that, but also for like, everything. Not following you here was something I regretted every day since, but I thought- I thought I had to stay back then, but I don’t anymore- and there’s something you should know-” 

“Babe? Is that our new speakers at the door?” A new voice called out, cutting off the word vomit that was spilling from Michael’s mouth beyond his control.

A male voice.

The wince and apology on Alex’s face told Michael everything he needed to know. Well. He probably should have seen that coming. Only Alex’s reaching out quickly to grab his hand as he turned away stopped him from bolting from the house.

“No, not our speakers, but an old friend from back home is here-” Alex called back, before turning back to make deliberate eye contact with Michael. “He wanted to stop by to say hello.”

A tall well-built black man came into view, holding a squirming pit bull in his arms, walked toward them both with a bright welcoming smile, “A friend from Roswell? An actual flesh and blood human who knows you? I was starting to think you were an alien, Alex.”

“Just because you’re related to half of Nashville and went to school with the other half, Dennis, doesn’t mean I sprouted from a pod-” Alex shot back playfully, clearly picking up a well-worn argument. 

Like a couple. A real couple. With a house and a dog. Michael licked his dry lips, forcing his muscles upward, they probably had retirement accounts. In two years Alex had built something more secure than he had in the three years in Roswell.

“Well any friend of yours, Alex, is one of mine,” Dennis greeted, turning his head to avoid an excited dog kiss before transferring the bundle of fur into Alex’s arms in a fluid movement of trust. “I’m Dennis, welcome to Nashville, um-?” he prompted, extending his left hand to Michael.

“Michael Guerin,” he answered politely, before Michael lifted his left hand awkwardly from his pocket and offered his right in return. His name didn’t alter the warm smile on Dennis’s face. Ah. So he must be a nameless ex for Alex then. Swallowing hard, Michael continued, this time a little meanly, “this hand doesn’t shake so well after I got on the wrong side of a hammer, sorry. But good to meet you.”

The stutter of the clumsy interaction hid Alex’s wince and flash of pain of the reminder. 

Feeling no joy from that, Michael picked up the conversation lightly, “I’m a friend from high school. Been doing some transport work, and a job sent me here to pick up a car to drive back to Roswell, so I thought I might stop in and see what the famous Alex Manes is up to…”

“I’m not famous, I just write the words,” Alex protested quietly, before backing away from the doorway. “We were just about to have lunch, if you want to stay-”

“He’s famous, don’t listen to him,” Dennis interjected proudly. “Did you hear that new song from Paramore? Alex wrote that.”

“Oh I know, I have all the singles Alex wrote,” Michael smiled, looking around the house and at the couple with another deep breath. “I’m his biggest fan, I think. But um, thank you, I can’t stay, I gotta hit the road back to-” he started to say home, but that hadn’t been true for a long time. “Back to Roswell.”

*** 

Hours later with his heart heavy, Michael checked into his room at the Super 8. Normally the expense would have bothered him, but after his day, he figured he was entitled to a little bit of spoiling. And if it was sad that plain wrapped soaps and tiny shampoo bottles constituted spoiling, well, he was content with that.

The clunky black case of his small portable DVD player was propped open on the hotel bed. It was a hand-me-down as technology and electronic gadgets moved into smoother, more versatile means. For him, it was perfect to watch a borrowed DVD in his Airstream since he lacked cable.

With the entire contents of a motel conditioner in his hair, Michael started the paused video file. The shaky dark footage started playing, the sound crackling with amateur hands, before the clear, strong voice of Alex Manes filled the air. 

It was probably pathetic to watch this cribbed footage from YouTube, but the romanticism that fueled his journey down 1-40 was also the same sentiment that preserved this moment in amber for Michael. Pulling open his old notebook from high school, he let Alex’s voice singing about love and loss carry him through the calculations of point atmospheric entry and the parallax distance of habitable stars.

It would be a hard journey, but Michael didn’t know any other kind at this point. Roswell wasn’t his home. Nashville wasn’t going to be home either, but the universe was ever-expanding, surely there was a place for Michael?

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

30. Part 3

Smiling at Robyn talking to Royalty like that, she has given the boost she needed but I really want to knock those little niggas out that has been disrespecting my daughter, like who the fuck does that shit. I am going to need Royalty to start kicking some ass too “can I ask Rihanna?” my daughter is totally harassing Robyn now “sure, I am going to give your dad his phone now though, I am here” taking my phone from Robyn “can I ask Rihanna, dad I can’t see her face” rolling my eyes, turning my phone “I am listening” she doesn’t want to know me now “can I see my sister?” I find it rather funny that she has asked Robyn and not me, she knows the boss “erm, yes ok. You can see her but no screenshots baby. I am not being overly crazy, but I just think nobody deserves to see her apart from loved ones” Robyn said yes, I guess I can lower the phone so she can see her “hi Fenty, she is sleeping. Awww I like her, look at the pretty dress too. Awww” Royalty sounds so happy “she is so cute!” I chuckled hearing her excitement about seeing Fenty, that is so sweet “you seen her now” moving the phone away and looking down at Royalty “she is so pretty dad, like a princess. I can’t wait to hug her” smiling at Royalty “cool, so shall we open the gifts. You happy now, let’s forget what happened ok? Just lets’ be happy and do this, like we were supposed to do” Royalty nodded her head and grabbed the phone “I am running downstairs, wait” clearing my throat looking over at Robyn “thank you” I said to her, she didn’t have to do that for me, she could have easily told me no, she just goes above and beyond for me and I love that about her “don’t be, I love you. I want you to also be happy, I can feel you are sad” I smiled lightly, of course I am going to be. How can I just forget my mother, or just shrug off what is happening with my family.

Royalty’ house is like a zoo, she loves animals so that is what I always buy her “open this one” Royalty’ older sister is there “it’s so big!” smiling at my daughter opening the main one, this is the one I know what it is. Robyn kindly did that for her, she didn’t need too “baby, that is from someone special. I hope you appreciate it” watching Royalty rip open the paper exposing the stacks of Fenty goodies, Royalty screamed ever so loudly “oh my god! Oh my god! This is for me!?” I chuckled “yeah, every lip gloss and whatever she gave you, that is from Rihanna Ro” Royalty is so happy, she actually can’t believe her eyes and I think she is content with that “for me? Oh my god! This is so good” Royalty snatched the card out of her sister’ hand “I can read it” watching her open up the envelope, Robyn deserves a foot rub tonight. I think I will attempt it, but she will openly kick me because I am dumb at times “what does it say?” I asked her “let me read Ro!” Zillah said, my daughter is either confused or can’t read “it says, Happy Christmas Royalty Brown and welcome to the Fenty family. We have sent you all these goodies to show off on your very own channel, we look forward to seeing your work on the Fenty line” Royalty screamed again “you are in the Fenty family Roro, oh my god” my daughter screaming is making me laugh, she is just mind blown but this is big “did she open it?” Robyn asked, she went to put Fenty down “she did, she is screaming around the house, thank you” Robyn smiled before walking off.

Nia has done well; I did tell her to get things from me on my behalf and she did just that “what do you say to your dad and Rihanna Roro?” Nia said holding Royalty’ hand, my daughter’ looks so tired from all the screaming she did “thank you daddy and Rihanna” my daughter is so cute “it’s ok, I will tell her when she comes back that you said that. She is just in the kitchen, but I am happy you had a good day, makes me happy” Nia let her hand go “what is your favourite gift baby? I mean I already know but tell me which do you love?” I know what my daughter will say “Rihanna gift, I got lots of things I can use now, and I love it. I love Rihanna, she is the best. And we are besties now” I chuckled “calm down there, but good. Nia, thank you for today. We will speak soon. Text me when you go to sleep baby, I love you so much Roro” Royalty waved at me “love you too daddy” my daughter is smiling, she is happy, my daughter is obsessed with my wife now. Disconnecting the call sighing out, that is my daughter down, now let me see if I can know where my boy is. I have Amikka mother’ number here so I could try here, scrolling down to her name. Getting up from the couch as it rang out “hello” she answered “hey, is Aeko there?” I hope he is “he is, he is having a nap Chris” letting out an oh “ok, too much food I guess. Did he get my gifts?” I did send him things “he did, he was so happy, and he loved it. I can call you back when he wakes up” Amikka’ mother is nothing of that bitch “if you can, I will be waiting thanks” disconnecting the call.

I just feel sadness in my heart, I just have to get it off my chest with someone anyways. Blowing the smoke out from my lips just as my auntie answered the call “congratulations nephew!” Christine said aloud “thank you auntie, I am glad you are happy for me” I chuckled “why wouldn’t I be? I mean I was shocked but not shocked too. I am happy you made that move, well you listened this time” rubbing my chin laughing “I needed this auntie, I felt like I was doing though shit. The drugs were killing me, the loneliness was overwhelming. I was happy but I really wasn’t you know? I just needed this” placing the blunt between my lips “I know you did; I feel your vibe. I see the posts, I was laughing. I was like my nephew is so in love. She got you in a onesie. Me and the boys were laughing and Austin himself said love got him. I am happy for you, and another girl? I bet she looks like Robyn. Is she ok?” moving my blunt back from my lips “you know it, she is so beautiful auntie. I get emotional seeing her because I feel like she saved me, she saved us. You know me and Rihanna, she doesn’t know what she done for us, I am a married man now” blowing the smoke out hearing my auntie gasp “you married her!? Boy you wanted to marry her ages ago, teenage asses wanted to run away from us” laughing at that memory “you for real happy for me?” I have to ask, I am unsure about happiness right now “I am Chris, Robb and Aaron lost their cousin, they felt upset with you. You didn’t see it but they fell out with you, they moved away from you because you was becoming so toxic and we was talking just now and Robb was saying how you look so happy, he sees the old cousin back. Your face looks better, but they did fall out with you” I didn’t even know that “when did that happen, wow” I am shocked “it happened Chris, you just didn’t see it but it’s ok. We are happy for you. And you called me on Christmas day, that is shocking to me but it’s made me happy. I was not fucking with the nephew I knew anyways” nodding my head “means a lot to me, my mom is not happy” rubbing my eye with my hand “that is because she needs you, and I think my sister right now is just lost. I told her to not use you in terms of money and name, and she did. I didn’t agree with her pawning you off to Amikka because she wasn’t good for you. I am not shocked she is upset but I guess you can’t choose your mother Chris, you know me. I am real, I will just tell you to leave it alone. Let Rihanna take over, she is doing a great job anyways” my auntie knows “tell the boys I am sorry” I didn’t know that they fell out with me like that “they forgive you Chris, trust me they do” nodding my head slowly.

I needed that blunt but let me get back to my family, I was so hurt by none of them telling me they were happy for me but in real terms I fucked up. I was so drugged up that I never saw what I was doing or realised what I was doing, I mean thinking back they wasn’t with me like the rest of the niggas, they kind of ditched me and just left me to it I guess “there you are!” Dennis spat “sorry” I mumbled “I bought you a gift, I know but here” Dennis held out the present to me “is it a photo?” Dennis rolled his eyes “ruined it but look at it” I grinned “no don’t say that, this is so good. I never expected it and Fenty wrapping paper? Robyn bougie as fuck, when did you get this shit!? See I know which is my gift now, it’s wack compared Robyn’ now” she ain’t shit “I know, she was refusing to let me use it too” opening the gift, seeing the photo frame “I thought memories, we have had such a good time and we couldn’t have done without the team” looking down at the picture from our wedding day “I love it Dennis, look at us being so damn goofy. This will go on my nigh stand. Well, I didn’t forget you anyways” placing my arm around Dennis “let me show you the tiny box, you can tell it is mine because it’s not Fenty gift wrapped” side eyeing Robyn, she started to laugh but she is not shit for it.

Watching Dennis stare at the small box “is this an engagement ring? Are we getting married, Chris this was supposed to be between us” I laughed at Dennis, he is dumb “open it, this is from Robyn and I. With everything that has like gone on, and how you have rode for us. You have went beyond your job, and even now. Spending Christmas with us, having to see Robyn’ cooch. It’s just a lot” I chuckled saying “no way!” he spat all wide eyed, he slowly picked out the key to his car “G wagon waiting for you at home, I mean when you are able to go. It’s waiting for you” Dennis is shook, he held up the key in shock “no way! Oh my god! No! I can’t take this, I gave you both barely nothing, oh god!” Dennis shouted, laughing at his reaction “I did this because I am loyal to Robyn and then I gained a brother in your oh my god, come here” Dennis hugged me “you both have made me feel so welcome in the family, I am going to cry. A fucking G wagon” hugging him smiling “it’s for you bro, you deserve it. You have been putting in work putting up with us, you have seen a lot and you also working day and night here it’s not much of a fun time” I think Dennis is crying “I am crying, sorry. Come here!” Dennis went over to Robyn to hug her, his so appreciative and I like that about him, he has a good heart.

Sitting down on the couch “so like it’s all last minute with everything, the biggest gift is our daughter but behind the scenes I have been working on this for you, for us. We have Fenty Brown but under Fenty is where my other endeavours lie within, so as my husband I want you to be managing director of Fenty. And we will evtually merge the business ventures together but I want you to be my managing director, I want you to bring on what you have with Tuff Crowd and bring that to Fenty, and I think you will be great at it but not the make up side of course, but I literally have paper work for you to sign. When I meant I am going to build you I meant it, this business is going to be us. And also your gift is on the way, it’s a car. Ferrari, I am not even sure. Dennis, what was it?” Robyn said to Dennis “Portofino M edition, it looked so good. Eight gear drop top type of thing. You will like it, Robyn spent up” I am shocked “really!? Oh my god, baby. That is amazing, so you’re employing me too!?” I have to get this right “yes, welcome to the Fenty family!?” I busted out laughing “tell me yes because then I can like announce that shit and make it legal and shit, I just want to make it all in house, but that is my gift to you. Next I will put more thought into it, but you know me. It’s been busy” nodding my head smiling “you keep working too much baby, I love you so much” getting up from the couch walking over to Robyn “I can’t stop, I have so much to do” leaning down kissing her cheek as I hugged Robyn “thank you” she is the best “also we need to apply for citizenship here, now” moving back from the hug “you being for real about this shit huh” Robyn not moving anywhere else “this will be home, but I won’t stay in one place. Trust me” nodding my head “but is that something you want? Because like you still have California, I mean I don’t know in the future it may be a thing of we do go back but for now, we here” I shrugged walking back to where I was sat “I just want what you want” and that is the truth.

[macgyvertape]

Final Cyperpunk2077 playthrough thoughts

Finished the game finally, general thoughts above spoilers, then a log of actions/reactions below cut

overall the game was #fine  Not even discussing the bugs I had and CDPR’s issues as a studio, the game felt shallow as a puddle outside the main quest and a few side quests. Driving is bad, combat quickly became boring, there isn’t much divergence as promised with your origin, so why replay it from the beginning? But the larger flaws are not just technical issues like how poorly cars handle, but design choices that make a lot of side quests “go here kill enemies loot documents“ boring. Comparing the yellow ! quests, with Witcher 3 monster contracts: they had a deeper story sometime, and you had a to fight enemies with different combat styles. A lot of the skills and perks shown in E3 material that would have made for more interesting builds were either removed from the game, or don’t work. 

I took a week off from playing this game, because I got to the point Of no return, and was finishing up side quests and hit a bug. Then i was thinking: is this it? For a game that I took the release week Friday off work to play because I wanted to experience the story with no spoilers; its just indicative of how somehow along the way I became apathetic with both gameplay and story.

the bit where Saul says Panam was right he was wrong, then gives her a hug. Just omaze. Wasn't expecting to pass out, but i love how all the aldacados greet you when you wake up and ask if you are ok.

really enjoy how Takemura hates all the awful food that is present in the future in Night City, and yet will still get pizza for the stake out. Seeing the cat, hearing about his backstory, who am i to just him for his corporate soldier backstory. "there are no clean hands but it is important how they become dirty"

apparently for Pisces quest you get a different ending if you do nonlethal to take down Maiko, so I reloaded a save and did that. Judy is a lot happier. She gave me a KISS, versus being shaken and upset.  I don't see Clouds being independent going well, they probably should join with the Mox

(had to relaunch the game here, since there was a bug that didn't let me hack anything)

After that I made sure to do nonlethal taking down Oda. Quickhacks and jumping away from attacks ftw.

I like how one of the reporters is there and you can repeatedly walk into her shot, and ruin it.

Of course I went back for Takemura in the apartment. I've played Deus Ex, and didn't save Paul the first time, so of course I had to go back for the rescue.

Johnny gave me his dog tags, and said that when the time comes it's his life for mine. I wonder if this dialogue would change any depending on the choice.

the scene where Johnny takes control drives home just how much an asshole he is. I just muted my headphones, and skipped through it b/c it wasn't exactly fun to sit through. I really like Rouge, her line of "I could never confuses the two of you", like I want her to like V for V

I drove out to the dump, because I knew you could find Dexter Deshawn's corpse. Also found the corpse of Bartmoss the guy who destroyed the net in a cooler nearby. It's neat that there are these things you can stumble upon in the world, but like the world is so big I needed to look up a guide to find where in the dump was Dexter's corpse. (update the bartmoss quest was kind of a let down, I just got some quickhacks not much story)

The dump through is good worldbuilding, is massive, and when i was there a dust storm blew in obscuring everything. Absolutely horrifying for their world, it's environmentally fucked.

I had decided to go with the Judy romance a while ago, and finally did that 3rd quest. It's sweet the build up to the date in the phone call and the different convo choices you have leading to sex; even though the 1st person sex cutscenes are still awkward af. Compared to the River one where there's a mood, here they just flash a lot of tit and vaguely suggest oral. Judy then invites you to move in with her, which you can then acknowledge it's literally playing the "lesbians move in with eachother quickly" trope, completely straight (pun intended). But I really like Judy's arc over the game as she gets to know V better, and you asking her to be with you is what stops her from leaving night city (I'm guessing friendship might stop it too, or just have a different ending).

The diving mechanic was cool, though I think this is literally the ONLY swimming mission in the game, so kind of a waste of a mechanic. I kept thinking, wow it sure would be bad if V passed out inside a building deep underwater: then "suprise pickachu face" guess what happens. Also not shocked to learn the tiger claws struck back at Clouds, without support from another gang it was bound to happen.

I like quests with Rogue, she's kind of a snarky ass just like V. I went ahead an executed Greyson I didn't trust him. Nice of Rogue to get me a jacket, but at the same time feels weird, accumulating more of a dead person's outfit piece by piece. Rogue is attractive, female silver fox way, but also i can't tell if its just to give gamers fanservice.

Wow after a few quests going "never again give Johnny control", he sounded so down talking at his non existent grave, and regretting that he was an asshole to everyone he knew, that I agreed to help him finish things with Rogue. (wonder if any choices you make change that dialogue)

Rogue: "is johnny asking me on a date or you" SURE WISH IT WAS BOTH ROGUE. I chose the kiss option but I get why Rogue says it wouldn't have been fair to her. AS V THOUGH, I TOTALLY WOULD HAVE BEEN DOWN.  Though Johnny did behave himself, glad to see trust wasn't betrayed.

Visiting Kerry, sure why not the visit with Rogue went well. It’s weird how friendly johnny is to you zig zags between side quests.

Going to find Nancy, I'm glad Dum Dum and Maelstrom showed up again. Was worried they would never follow up on that plot. Then i of course chose Denny, she had her house wrecked. But I do think its funny, I have all this Silverhand gear and no one but Rogue comments on it.

Here’s hoping male V’s get more from Kerry, you get the questline of reuniting the band, and then after talking at the bar you get repeatable dialogue prompts, and thats it for content.

Nice that you can go talk to Rogue and Judy and they will comment on the parade going poorly.

  NOTE:  I went to do a side quest Fortunate Son, and got a persistent bug where I thought quickhack was broken (turns out you just can't quickhack police) and the game wouldn't let me skip time. At this point I put down the game for a week and went to play something else, because it was the final straw. Also, that quest is poorly designed, it makes you fight a bunch of cops you can't just run away. So much for freedom of play.

Apparently I don't get the secret ending because my approval with Johnny is just 60%, and i didn't pick the specific dialogue choices required; so I went with the Rogue ending because feels like it completes her narrative more than attacking with the Aldacados

I looked up the Arasaka ending before I made changes, and wow that ending is depressing af (as to be expected)

Rogue is the best, but i was more tired of playing the game than sad she died, anyway thats what fix-it fanfic is for.

But for fucks sake, the first fight with Adam Smasher, he jumped to the upper platform, and the game bugged out so i couldn't even decide his fate. It's bugs all the way to the end. I think the ending choices were also bugged, V was attacking Johnny talking about the well, no matter what choice was prompted for bridge/well.

Then the ending. I chose for Johnny to go on with Alt.  I get why people have said they were disappointed with the endings. The Johnny ending has everyone wondering why V is now ghosting them, makes sense because this ending proves Johnny is an asshole.

Wow for saving Takemura in the hotel, he calls me and tells me “rot in hell kuso ama“ (rot in hell fucking bitch). So thats great /s. Can see that he’s obviously upset I didn’t take the arasaka offer and now the company is in turmoil. So much for thinking we were friends and guess saving Oda literally doesn’t matter for anything

But the return the body to V: V has presumably very short time left to live, the calls you from friends and acquaintances talk about how she doesn't call or visit them any more, your love interest talks about how you've been distant with them. I guess the delemain dialogue differs based on attack choice and how you resolved the Delemain quest, since it's different in a similar playthroughs on YT. As for endings for other characters it seems people are better off the more you help them, which makes sense.

But I still had this feeling not just that the ending was bittersweet, but that this didn’t in character for the V I had been playing. That Heck the Judy ending with attacking Arasaka alone/with Rogue, has her leaving Night City without you. Which fair, you knew that as you got into a relationship with her. But still feels like a downer. She's a lot happier in the Panam attack ending. I appreciate that you get different options, and options within those options, but I’m just like what narrative arc did V undergo? What personal journey was actually resolved?

[rosie-janeposie]

Gold Charms

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974863/chapters/60461701

Summary:            

Tucked away in the chair by the bookcase, with a napkin with pastries to share between themselves. Usually, they would talk and unwind about their days without Skye, Orion, or any of her other friends bothering them. The two would stay in the common room talking while most everyone else had gone to bed. Their only company some nights would be Ellie's tuxedo cat Binx, purring away while they chuckled in the low-light, the enchanted star chart above them slowly revolving. Tonight, however, the new addition of a bottle with gold liquid sat to the right of the redhead.

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  Notes:          

Inspired by : Sky blue color by Lara_Kaminari.        

Hello, my Lovelies!

I got this idea from Lara_Kaminari and her fic Sky Blue Color, so be sure to check it out there should be a link above! Anyway, I liked that idea of Murphy and nail polish for some reason. Weird, I know.

Besides, late-night talks are great!

Enough about me, Let's get to Murphy and Ellie.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hogwarts Mystery Characters.

I do, however, own Ellie. :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

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Chapter 1: Simple Charm                 

Murphy stared at the redhead, "What did you say?" She asked to meet him up in the common room after practice. Tucked away in the chair by the bookcase, with a napkin with pastries to share between themselves. Usual nights, they would talk and unwind about their days; without interruption from Skye, Orion, or any of her other friends. Ellie would swear up and down she wasn't that popular. The two would stay in the common room talking while most everyone else had gone to bed. Their only company some nights would be Ellie's tuxedo cat Binx, purring away. At the same time, they chuckled in the low-light, the enchanted star chart above them slowly revolving. The new addition of a bottle with gold liquid sat to the right of the redhead.

Binx was currently distracted batting around on the floor someone's lost scrunchie. The sound of the cat's rough purrs being the only other noise in the tower.

The bespectacled girl sighed, "I said I need to borrow your hand…"

"Why?"

"Because…" She whispered, stretching out her oddly plain fingers. Perhaps he was odd, but he made a habit of learning weird details about Ellana Bennett. One is that she had a terrible habit of biting her fingernails. Unless they were painted, no nail polish was strange to see.

"This has an 82.4% possibility of being a trap." The blond noted as he placed both of his hands back into his lap.

"Muuuuuurphy." She whined, before giving the blond a pout.

"Elllllliee," He mimicked.

She puffed out her cheeks, earning a small laugh from the Quidditch enthusiast, "Binx knocked my last bottle of nail polish."

Murphy crossed his arms, putting points together of where this line of conversation was headed. "Okay, so he knocked over your nail polish…"

Ellie sighed as she ruffled her hair and pushed it out of her face, "Because he knocked the bottle over, I had a hell of a time trying to up the mess." Murphy opened his mouth, "I panicked, so Scourigfy was the last thing on my mind. Then, Binx almost kept stepping into the puddle of nail polish." Murphy smirked as he noticed she began to use some of his hand gestures, "Then Tulip walked in with Dennis. Ugh! Dennis almost killed himself by standing in the mess."

"Oookay," Murphy noted tried not to laugh.

"So finally after we got Binx and Dennis, Tulip asked me why didn't I just use Scourigfy...and long story short. I had no other nail polish." Ellie stated with slight pink to her cheeks, this was a stupid thing to ask of him. "But, Rowan had some that her mom sent her. She never wears it."

"And this involves me...how?" He questioned, looking at the embarrassed girl in front of him.

Why was this so frustrating, Jacob would have done it for her no problem. "Because… I don't know how this nail polish looks or applies."

Murphy paused, the confusion evident on his face, "You lost me."

"I need your hand to see how the nail polish applies," Ellie stated as she held out her own hand. "If I need one coat, two. Is the color muted…"

Murphy smirked, rolling his chair closer to Ellie, "So, what your saying is, I'm the guinea pig."

"Not a guinea pig?" Ellie spoke.

"What do you think I wouldn't make a cute guinea pig?" Ellie giggled at the pout that crossed the blond's face.

"An adorable and charming guinea pig…" Ellie giggled as she held out her hand again, "Can I have your hand, please." Ellie let her bottom lip sit out to produce a pout. This may or may not have been her new secret weapon against the Quidditch Commentator. "If you are worried about it, I'll do one nail…"

"Or…" Murphy held up a finger proposing an idea. Ellie paused in mild interest. They stared at each other in comfortable silence before Murphy continued, "For every nail, you paint… I get to ask you a question." Binx went running around the common room, his small feet thundering on the stone floor.

Ellie quirked an amused eyebrow, "What if I only paint one nail?"

"Then, I only ask one." Murphy responded in kind, "Are you scared I will find your deep, dark secrets?"

Ellie gave him a look before she rolled her eyes, "Why did I expect some bullshit statistic."

Murphy looked offended at her statement, "I will have you know, 79.8% of my statistics are accurate."

Ellie smirked before she tapped Murphy's nose gently. "So you admit that some of your statistics are bullshit…"

"Don't tell anyone, It would ruin my credibility if it got out." Murphy jested as he returned her tap on the nose. Ellie stuck out her tongue as he flicked her nose. Ellie smiled at the small smile on Murphy's face as he held out his right hand. His fingers resting gently on the side of her armchair. Ellie noticed his cautious motions. She gave him an odd look as she reached for the gold bottle next to her. She picked up the small bottle and shook the contents quickly. They sat quietly as she prepped the polish. Soon, the scent of polish filled there noses.

Ellie unscrewed the cap and removed the brush. The barely visible black brush was coated in shimmering gold paint. The cold paint touched Murphy's nail, "Hm, Let's see... What's the most imaginative insult you can come up with?"

"The possibility of only asking one question, that is the best you got?" She quipped as she continued with her strokes. Pouting at the uneven quality of the paint.

Murphy stuck out his tongue, "Answer the question, Bennett."

"Someone's cranky, he is back to using my last name." She felt a flick against her cheek, "Fine, Um…" She sat back for a moment as she thought it over. After a second, she went back to painting his nail, "I remember back in third year… when I had to babysit that demon child, Lucius Malfoy was just a right git. All I could think was turning back around and yelling 'you son-of-a-motherless-goat.' But, I didn't," Ellie stopped to admire her work, "you should be proud."

"Son-of-a-motherless-goat?" a chuckle slipped from Murphy's lips.

Ellie pouted, quickly grabbing the gold bottle as Binx sped around the floor. The black cat barely missed the end table. "You asked!" she giggled. She looked that gold color on his thumb. It was not the prettiest polish, but it had a certain charm. Her blue-green eye flickered to his Honey-gold.

She did like charming things…

Ellie felt a slight blush appear across her cheeks as she quietly started painting his index finger. Murphy smirked and release the breath he didn't realize he was holding, "So…" He began to search for the right words, "The Yule ball…" he started looking away. He liked having her soft hands, adjusting his hands. "You and Weasley… Bill Weasley." He never felt lost in his words. His cheeks were warm.

"Yes?" Ellie brought her eyes up cautiously. Her hand stopped.

"Did you have fun at the Yule ball with Weasley, uh, Bill?" Murphy finally asked.

Ellie shrugged, "It was nice; we dance quite a bit. I felt bad for Bill, though." Murphy quirked an eyebrow, Ellie sighed as she readjusted her glasses, "You really don't think I was his first choice. Oh no, he wanted to go with Emily Tyler."

"Oh, is she the dark-haired Gryffindor, always wear pink."

"Yes, and it is atrocious," Ellie noted, "Anyway, Bill says he is over her, But…not my place to say."

Murphy nodded as he looked her over. "Do you like Weasley?"

Ellie tapped his nose before she finished his second nail, "That makes three questions." Murphy let a sad overcome his face as he watched her face. Ellie gave her decision rattle around her head. Ellie looked to see Murphy waiting for her anxiously. Ellie gently hooked her finger around his middle finger. After a second, she started her first stroke, "No, I don't like Bill like that. Actually, the person I wanted to go with…" She paused. "He didn't seem interested in go to the ball."

Ellie actually remembers the excitement through the common room. Even Orion and Skye seem to take a break from Quidditch long enough to be excited about a winter ball. Murphy was unbothered and uninterested in attending the ball. He never even noted that he wanted to attend. Ellie also made reference here and there; in fact, it was as if Murphy dodged the subject. "Sounds like the guy is an idiot if you ask me…"

Ellie did smile at that comment, "He can be, but I think He can have a one-track mind." She let her fingers gently tapped against his hand. "Something about being the next big Quidditch Commentator."

"I told you, 100% an idiot." He whispered.

She smiled, looking down at the now sleeping cat. Binx was curled up in front of Murphy's Wheelchair, purring contently, "Yeah, so I hear." She reached for his next extended finger, his pinky.

Murphy gently reached over to stroke her cheek, "What is your favorite way to spend a Saturday?"

Ellie leaned her head into his hand. Ellie was focused on her work in front of her. "I love spending my time in the little bookshop in town. Then a good mug of butterbeer while playing wizard's chess seems wonderful." Ellie was shocked by how fast she had completed his pinky finger.

Murphy's face felt red. Murphy stared at his hand to note his unadorned ring finger, "I think you skipped a nail."

Ellie stared at the very vacant nail in front of her, "So I have…" She dipped her brush into the polish once more. She turned back to the only other soul in the common room.

McNully had his words, waiting for the slightest brush of polish. The cold, wet feeling was welcomed, "Ellie, would you like to go out with me?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  Notes:  

Alright, my Lovelies.

There is a part-two that will be up sometime this week. So, keep an eye out. Please leave a comment and/or a like down below.

Until next time!

~Rosie 🌹

[taronunwin]

Can you rate everything that Taron has been in from your most fave to least fave? And giving your reasonings why for each eating. I know this might be hard to do since all of his work has been exceptional. I’m asking just because I need more Taron content to watch!

OH GOODNESS. Anon, this is a bit cruel, like making me pick my favourite children. Except I have no children. And I do not like children. I digress. I’ll do my best.

I haven’t seen most of the voice projects Taron’s done so I’ll just list what I have seen and I’ll rank it by things I love/need to watch vs. things I’m okay with watching less often, sort of thing. This is mostly spoiler free but there are a few things that dance on the line. I’m sorry, but it’s really hard not to explain what I love without getting into that territory.

Deep breath. Here goes.

1: Rocketman

When I watched Rocketman for the first time, it was one of the last of Taron’s films I had yet to see because I was the least interested in it. I wasn’t an Elton fan, I don’t care for musicals usually, and I’m not really keen on movies set in the 60′s. So there were three strikes against it and I honestly expected just to start it, click through, and move on because Taron didn’t look hot (I thought then). But by the time he got to the ‘My name is Elton Hercules John’, I was invested. Wholeheartedly. Even when Taron wasn’t on screen, I cared deeply for the young Elton. I was rooting for him, grieving with him, and feeling his pain and triumphs. That movie is an experience unlike any other and by far the best movie I have ever seen in my life. The pure joy that radiates from it… it’s hard to explain.

2: Kingsman: The Secret Service

I’m not a Bond fan myself, I’m not really an action spy genre fan, so, again, I didn’t really think I was going to love this movie. But when Lee Unwin jumped on that grenade, I sat up in my seat a bit. That wasn’t the beginning I expected. And then when his son showed up later, stuck in a life that was so miserable and far from what he wanted, my heart broke. Eggsy had so much depth and went so far beyond just a ‘kid from the wrong side of the tracks’ kind of backstory. The details about him being in gymnastics and giving it up because his mum had married a good-for-nothing creep who influenced him more than he wanted to admit, being borderline brilliant and doing so well in school, only to give that up, too, because what was the freaking point in even trying when he was stuck in a world he wanted desperately out of. And then, when that opportunity presented itself and he was able to join the Marines, the first time in his life he really felt like he had some control and could follow in his dad’s footsteps, his mum wouldn’t allow it because she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. So Eggsy was utterly stuck. Until…

3: Robin Hood

Oh, Robin. I think we all have a very special soft spot for the first character we fell for in an actor’s filmography and Robin is it for me. I had seen Testament of Youth in early 2019 with my teary eye on Kit Harington but I loved Edward. However I had no idea that Robin was Edward when I started watching, I just like historical movies and thought Robin Hood looked interesting. When I started, I was pretty smitten by Rob right away but as the movie progressed and the story got more convoluted, I became less interested and actually turned it off. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Robin. So I started watching it again and boy did I fall hard. The movie itself? A stupid, fun, absolutely enjoyable ride. Robin? Well, that beautiful boy is the love of my life.

4: Billionaire Boys Club

I’ve seen a lot of negative things about this film, not just in regards to a certain cast members, but in general and frankly? I don’t get it. I know I’m probably watching it through rose-coloured glasses but honestly, I really, genuinely love this movie. I love Dean’s charisma and charm, how much he loved Joe and wanted the best for him—for both of them. I love Dean’s darkness and how his character gradually yet drastically changed over the course of the film; how he started as just a passionate, excited, enthusiastic young man and ended in such a different place, even willing to give up something and someone that meant so much to him because desperation drove him to do something he would have never imagined himself doing in the beginning. I loved watching the relationships fray and bonds dissolve and I especially loved watching Taron play Dean’s darkness so realistically, paying special attention to how he portrayed Dean’s growing drug addiction. Also? Dean is really hot. There’s no way of sugarcoating that.

5: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

I love Eggsy Unwin. I mean I love him. Like I-would-take-a-bullet-for-him kind of love. And though the charm of the first movie being his transformation from street kid to Kingsman isn’t really in this film, it’s still such a fun ride. My favourite parts are mostly the quieter moments, the little scenes where we see Eggsy, less as a Kingsman and more as himself. His struggles, his doubts, the times where he’s shaken and isn’t really sure of anything anymore. But what I love about Eggsy is how fiercely he gets back up every time. Doesn’t matter what is thrown at him, he will take it all and become stronger.

Also… “Let’s make this fair,” Eggsy says, tucking his right arm behind his back and effectively evening the playing field with his one-armed opponent before he engages in a to-the-death brawl with the man he trained with until snapping his neck with one. hand. still. tucked. behind. his. back.

6: Testament of Youth

I hate this movie so much. But I also love this movie so much. Edward is one of the sweetest angels there ever was and I adore him with every fiber of my body. And watching his story… well… it makes me more unhappy than I’ve ever been. Does that stop me from watching it? No. But it does limit the number of rewatches. It’s one of those movies that’s so perfect for a sad mood. Like when I need a good cry, oh my goodness, I need look no further. But looking beyond just the emotional nature of the movie, Taron’s performance is so so beautiful. Watching Edward’s boyish innocence peeling away to show the more hardened, deeply hurt and disillusioned young man as the war’s grip on him tightens? Honestly, it’s stunning.

7: The Last of the Haussmans

A play? Really? What’s that doing on this list? Well, let me tell you. Taron’s character, Daniel, affected me very deeply and I’m not even being silly. This list is already too long so I’ll spare the details but Daniel… he got me. He’s such a sweetheart, so genuine and pure and good and earnest and wonderful and the kiss scene, well, I don’t even know how many times I’ve watched it. The tenderness he displays, the sweet uncertainty and awkwardness yet visibly bolstering himself so he can do what he’s so unsure about… oh, Daniel. For it being one of his first public roles, I am consistently amazed by how good Taron is. Daniel’s awkwardness does not feel like Taron’s discomfort. Daniel is entirely his own person with his own story and struggles and watching his story unfold is a really lovely thing.

8: Eddie the Eagle

This sweet, fun, encouraging, uplifting, charming movie, oh, how I love it. Though I have to be honest, it isn’t one of those movies I just need to watch like every month or two. I love enjoying it with other people and seeing their reactions but it’s not one that I crave at any given time. Even still, Eddie is a pure sweetheart and I love him and his heart-filled, passion-fueled, wonderful story.

9: The Smoke

I’m actually kinda surprised where this landed on the list, but let me explain. Dennis Severs is so much like Eggsy in terms of being a very layered, three-dimensional, incredibly deep and fascinating character. I love him. Nay, I adore him. I loved watching his ups and downs, his gut-wrenching revelations and triumphant success as he strove hard to free himself of the bondage of his past. But the show itself? It’s, same as Eddie, not something I feel drawn to watch at any given time. It’s intense, very intense, and asides from Dennis’ story, I didn’t really connect with any character, other than Kev. So in terms of watchability and enjoyment of the project overall, this ranks lower, but in terms of Dennis and his importance to me? Well, he ranks much higher ❤

10: Legend

So the first time I checked out this movie, I skipped through, searching for Taron. Next time, I skipped through again. Then I bought the movie and actually watched it, and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Ignoring the obviously impressive feat that was Tom Hardy playing both main characters, I loved the relationship between Reggie and Frances and found myself caring quite a lot for them. I don’t know that I’ll ever watch it in full again but I do skip through every so often for Teddy and thoroughly that little psycho.

11: Sing

I’ve mentioned that I don’t really watch much of Taron’s voice work because I find it annoying to hear him but not be able to see him. That’s my ultimate problem with Sing. While a very enjoyable movie and one I’ve watched a few times all the way through, I don’t necessary care enough about the other characters to want to watch it from start to finish. I’m happy just skipping through for Johnny’s story, but there’s always that nagging feeling of knowing Taron is back there somewhere, looking breathtaking, and I can’t see him. And for that, I must place this sweet movie at the bottom of this list.

This honestly took hours for me to write and perfect but I think I’m good with it now. Phew!

I’m so sorry, anon, I’m absolutely certain you were looking for like two sentences to explain what I liked or didn’t like about each of these but instead you got a mini review. Whoops.

[macden]

iasip seasons rated by how much the gang Performs

season 1: because it was the first season, rcg were not yet ready to fully embrace their theater kid selves. disappointing lack of performance unless you count “boys are out tonight, huh?” but I do not because dennis is just like that. 0/10

season 2: limited performance. the gang makes an offensive video to terrorize their israeli neighbor (the nature of which docks performance points), dee and artemis do street acting. charlie sings both “I got the good lord going down on me” and “rock flag and eagle” but neither of these are particularly notable as the only audience is members of the gang. 1/10

season 3: it is clear that rcg realized that they were staying on air and began to embrace their passion for performance. this season gifts us with chemical toilet as well as the iconic first rendition of “dayman” (while both from a terrible episode, they get bonus points for the intensity with which glenn displays his slutty bottomness). mac displays his sick karate moves and pretends to go down on dennis. charlie shows everyone the white hot cream of an eighth grade boy with a fully choreographed dance. the first season with true performance. 5/10

season 4: the season begins with a lack of performance, picking up with mac and dennis self-inserting themselves as sodomites in their colonial america story. however, in the last episode rcg do what may well be the most iconic episode of sunny with the nightman cometh. between “tiny boy,” “troll toll” “dayman,” and charlie’s proposal, this episode provides a full performance in the form of a musical. extra points are added by the fact that rcgkd performed the nightman cometh as an actual live musical on tour afterwards. 9/10 thanks to the nightman cometh.

season 5: charmacden perform their birds of war song in which glenn demonstrates yet again that he has in fact ridden dick. arguably hugh and vic count as a performance as well. dennis and dee both briefly are in an m night movie. overall mediocre amount and quality of performance. 4/10

season 6: technically this has the first mention of lethal weapon but that one doesn’t even count because of the horrible nature of the entire thing. dee performs for some high schoolers. overall disappointing lack of performance. 1/10

season 7: arguably their most performative season not only in quantity but also quality. frank reynolds’ little beauties includes not only the opening number with iconic gay outfits and dancing, but also dee’s “moms suck” song and charmacden joining in with the yankee doodle performance. dee plays the role of a grieving mother to scam her way out of getting audited, assisted by dennis putting chili pepper in her eyes. the season ends with the gang’s revenge of performing at their high school reunion which gifts us not only with their elaborately choreographed vision of their dance, but also the realistic one that ended up happening. excellent content 10/10

season 8: not much in the way of singing, entire lack of dancing, a couple acting moments. dennis pretends to be brian lefevre along with dee and mac as prudence and vic. dennis sings wind beneath my wings to mac in front of an entire restaurant which adds a bonus point for being gay. 1.5/10

season 9: this season brings about some iconic performances but also some regrettable ones. dee performs stand up, charlie sings his paddy’s pub song, charlie performs the ever-iconic go fuck yourselves which in itself is worth several points, the gang practices for their boyz ii men audition, the gang performs motown philly for some hospital staff. unfortunately this season is also home to lethal weapon, which objectively should add performance points for being a full movie but I’m in charge here and I say it takes away points. overall pretty solid season with a downfall in the racism. 8/10

season 10: no performances. sad. 0/10

season 11: meh performance-wise this season. dee acts in a smut film, frank appears as the iconique ongo gablogian, mac discovers his passion for musical theater on the cruise ship. 3/10

season 12: begins strongly right off the bat with an entire musical episode, showcasing that rcg truly do the most in writing, learning choreography, and performing musical numbers whenever possible. dennis and charlie strip, unfortunately. dennis gives a horribly acted performance in which he pretends to be heterosexual and not deeply in love with mac in the finale. 9/10 for the musical episode alone.

season 13: starts off with no performance only for the finale to give us rob mcelhenney’s gift to the gays, a beautifully choreographed 5-minute coming out dance sequence that I still cannot watch without crying. rob said gay rights and wanted us to know we’re appreciated and so he did the absolute most by getting into crazy shape and training for months to learn ballet and then did That. mac finds his pride was unspeakably beautiful and profound and shows not only how much rob loves the gays, but how much he loves to perform. 1000000/10

[queenzufufu]

Soldier Boy (5/5)

Summary: Alfredo only had three main goals in life: earn money, keep his family safe, and to try and one up his parents and make it past the age of thirty.

The Fakes? He couldn’t be any further from that world. No doubt he’d love to be part of it but he knows it’s never going to happen. There’s just no way.

Until one night, and one heist gone wrong, finds him in the middle of a gang war that he finds he has no choice but to get involved in.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 AO3

It takes him a second to pick out who’s his closest target; he bursts through the door and sees so many armed individuals it renders him still for a second. Only for a second though, he’s jumping into survival mode the second after - shoots the first guy to notice him in the head before he’s even fully turned round. There’s an upturned table to his left, good cover to duck behind as more of the men notice his presence.

C’mon! You better fucking take down more than one.

He fires blindly. Rapidly shooting over the top of the table - glad that it’s made of thick wood, otherwise it would have shredded to pieces by now.

His heart’s pounding as he takes a chance and peeks his head out ever so slightly to take aim. He sees one is wounded, limping - takes him out quickly - and another one reloading, too slow, the gun drops to the floor and now there’s only one left. He doesn’t even wait for the man’s dying breath, just shoots, makes sure he’s down, and moves to new cover before more arrive, he’s bound to have alerted others close by even with all the racketing gunfire still aimed at the guys–

Suddenly he notices a pain shooting down his leg. A piece of wood from the table thankfully, not a bullet. Still, stings like a bitch as he yanks it out.

He steps forward now, ready to take the offensive even if he’s limping and he’s dripping blood with every step he takes. When he reaches up to wipe the dust of wood chippings from his face he feels the smear of warm blood it leaves behind, the wound from Dmitri’s knife still bleeding, albeit slowly.

Another man charges him from out of nowhere with a fierce yell, weaponless other than a piece of metal piping, and Alfredo braces himself and holds up his better arm to block the initial blow. It sends another white-hot flash of pain through his body but at least it’s better than getting his face smashed in. The combat is too close to give him time to fire his rifle, but he still has Dmitri’s knife - and as the man’s swinging again, and again, Alfredo ducks around him and digs the blade into his back. His grip on the hilt grows slippery with blood, and now both of his arms are in pain, but he uses all his strength to keep the blade firmly in and hold the man still as he yanks the knife up, the cries slowly dying out as he reaches the heart or lung, he doesn’t really care as long as he does serious damage–

The sound of bullets pierce his ears again, and he blocks the oncoming fire with the dead or dying body, and he sees that it’s abundantly clear everyone’s aware of his presence now.

A double set of doors have opened, revealing the main part of the upper floor where the majority of shooting has been coming from. Five - was that how many he’s taken out so far? It hardly seems like it’s been that little, he’s already exhausted, his injuries crying out for attention, and yet as he leaps to plant himself behind the wall he counts twenty, maybe more men in the main room. Breathing heavy, he crouches down as he feels the thuds of the bullets hitting the wall on the other side.

But this is what he wanted, he remembers, this is good, he tells himself. If they’re all focused on him now then that means there’ll be less attention on the others, providing of course, they hadn’t already been killed. No - he can’t think like that, his promise is far from over, he’s got their attention now he has to keep it for as long as possible. Something is riling up inside him, something both angry and scared, something desperate to save the others and desperate to survive himself. Doing both right now seems out of the question. But he can sure as hell try–

He fires off a round into a man approaching the doorway.

Another one into the guy trying to get the cross fire on him from the far corner.

Jumps to his feet and knifes one man who tries to rush him.

He’s running low on ammo, they are too but there’s so fucking many of them.

He spots a good place for cover inside the room and blindly runs for it, diving on the man currently firing at him from there. He presses his hands down on the man’s throat, his vision red and everything burning. For a moment he completely blacks out and the next thing he knows the man his dead with a knife in his neck. He almost throws up straight after, scared suddenly by how easy it’s become to kill–

He ends up lingering on it for a split second too long, for the next thing he knows there’s a cry of something in Russian, and then it feels as though a boulder has crashed into his side, knocking him forcefully to the floor.

“Get them!” He can hear yelling, someone American, across the room.

“Is too late! They go already!” a heavy Russian accent shouts back.

Blinking back the black dots in his vision, he tries to scramble to his feet, but some weight is still pushing him down. He stretches an arm out, trying to reach for his gun or the knife still in the man’s neck, but he can’t lift his head and he can’t see anything but clouds of dust and people’s feet running past. A foot stamps down on his hand, almost hard enough to break the bone, and he lets out a cry, feeling all the fight finally leave his body. He feels the weight on top of him shift and then the sound of a blade being pulled out of flesh right by his ear, warm blood splattering over him and onto his face, in his eyes, on his lips. He can taste it, hot and coppery and horribly too familiar.

“Don’t kill him!” That same American accent demands - and he feels the weight slowly leave him, although by now he’s too exhausted to even try to stand up.

Also, there’s no point. He knows he would only be pushed back down if he does and he’s content to not do anything for just a second or two, feeling strangely happy despite everything. They’re gone… That’s what he heard. They got out. Michael and Gavin, and Jack and Geoff, and Jeremy and oh-he-better-still-be-alive Ryan. That’s what he wanted, and somehow he’d made it happen.

He tilts his head and glances up, see’s a man so huge his breathing halts for a second. There's a burn scar across his face, and the man’s eyes are dark and he’s sweating and bleeding just like Alfredo is; but unlike Alfredo, he isn’t lying small and broken on the floor.

“This motherfucker–” the man begins, angrily, before cutting off abruptly as though silently ordered to, and letting out a half growl. “What would you have us do with him?”

How about we just shake hands and call it quits?

“Seeing as you and your men have spectacularly failed to guard what we worked hard to take from The Fakes, we’re going to steal something back. See if this doesn’t open up some new avenues for us.”

The voice, the American one, sounds so incredibly relaxed and business-like after everything that just happened, that it sends Alfredo’s mind into a spin. He doesn’t like the sound of any of that. But then he also doesn’t like the sound of dying right now.

Fuck me, he feels his heart pounding harder, what the fuck are they going to do to me? He’s struggling to stay in control now, scared and helpless and so very alone. He selfishly wishes one of The Fakes were there with him, somebody he could look to for reassurance during a situation he would never, ever have imagined himself being in when he was little and playing at being a legendary gangster.

In a way, it’s kind of a blessing they knock him out there and then.

“You did good today, lil’ man.”

Denny’s helping him take his shoes off at the doorway to their house. Alfredo frowns - wasn’t he just somewhere else? Somewhere scary? A building filled with big, bad people, and his whole body had been hurting. He looks down at his arms and legs. They’re fine, they ache a bit but that’s because of what Denny had been saying. He had done good today!

All thoughts of the bad place vanish as he tugs at his older brother’s arm eagerly. “I wanna come with you,” he claims - grinning as his brother grabs his hand and leads him inside.

“You can’t. You gotta look after grandma,” Denny explains patiently. Their grandma’s not home yet, she’s still at work - been taking extra shifts on ever since their dad had died three months ago. Alfredo still gets sad a lot - actually confused more than anything, wondering how someone who you saw every day of your life could suddenly not be there anymore. Denny didn’t get sad though and he always told Alfredo not to cry ‘cause that’s not what Dad would want’, and he’s started skipping classes to work for their crew more, even takes Alfredo with him at the weekends. Alfredo always wants to join him, even on school days, but Denny says he can’t because he’s five, not nine like his brother. Apparently nine was when you became a man - it also meant that you could start being a lookout during nights apparently, because that was what Denny had started doing too. Alfredo tried convincing his brother every night to let him come with him, and every night he said no.

“Grandma’ll be okay,” he tells his brother. “I can help you more than Grandma! I could do the looking out thingy too, real good. I’m small. I could hide. That’d be good cause no one would never see me and then I’d be really quiet!”

“You’re too little to help. It’s very hard work.” Denny says, sitting down on the couch and pulling him onto his lap, and Alfredo tilts his head back at him.

“I can do anything!” he replies brightly. “I’m strong like you!”

“Really?” His brother’s face can’t help but crack a tired grin, and Alfredo clambers off his lap. He goes to the kitchen, grabs a chair, and brings it back to Denny. It’s twice as big as he is but he manages to keep it off the ground and even lifts it above his head.

“Please let me come with you! I’ll help, see? I’m strong!”

“Fredo…” Denny’s half laughing, half shaking his head.

“I wanna come!”

“Put the chair down - just… put it down before you drop it on your head,” he says, and Alfredo lowers it to the ground, arms only shaking slightly. His brother holds out his arms and he climbs onto him again, head tucked under his brother’s chin. Denny wraps him in a hug and buries his head in his hair, then his tone changes.

“We can’t always be together,” he informs him.

Alfredo doesn’t understand - sure, his mom had gone not long after he’d been born, and now his dad too, but they were adults, and they were confusing at times. But he and Denny, they were brothers, and brothers always stuck together. They ate together, they played together, and now they worked together. He leans back and studies his brother’s face, eyes the same as his, skin the same shade, a gold chain he’d inherited from their father, the older boy looking strangely adult-like all of a sudden.

“But who’ll play games with me at night?” he asks, and his brother lets out a chuckle.

“You don’t need me to play anymore,” he replies. “You’ve got new friends, remember?”

“I do?”

“Sure you do! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten them already!”

“Umm, I don’t remember,” he begins, but cuts off in surprise as he spots the tears forming in his brother’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m not there, but you’ll be okay, okay? You’re strong, remember? You’re strong and you’re brave and you ain’t so little no more.”

“I don’t understand–” Alfredo breaks off and his brother shushes him.

“You just gotta hang on. They’ll come for you.”

“Denny, you’re scaring me…”

But it was like his brother was no longer listening to him - like there was a barrier suddenly between them.

“Be brave… they’ll come for you. The Fakes don’t give up that easily.”

Wait.

The Fakes?

“What do you–

Consciousness comes back slowly and rather painfully.

He lets out a whimper at the dull throbbing that seems to make up his entire body and wonders what on earth he did last night to make him feel like this.

He cracks open an eye, confusion settling in as he observes the metal walls and blue light. Was he in a cell? Has he been captured?

Ah, that’s right.

He’s not alone, he realizes, there’s someone in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall. Watching him.

Slowly, the shrouded figure makes it’s way forward, every step purposeful and precise, like a big cat stalking its prey. Only when he’s standing directly next to him does the light highlight the figure enough for Alfredo to get a good look.

It’s a man.

A man wearing a shirt and tie…?

He’s late forties maybe, dark grey eyes narrow and piercing, greying hair combed neatly back.

The man studies him for what feels like forever, before slowly raising his hand, holding a small thin object between his fingers.

It’s a syringe, some weirdly green liquid filling it, and Alfredo instinctively lurches away as he lowers it to his arm, only to find out that he’s not moving anywhere, his legs and arms tightly bound to the table beneath him.

The man expertly finds a vein and injects whatever the fuck it is into his bloodstream. Alfredo expects pain, maybe to be knocked out again, but nothing happens, at least not instantly.

The man seems to soak up the slight confusion Alfredo’s projecting. “Human minds are weak,” he explains. “They break too easily and cannot sustain heavy damage.”

A smirk forms on his lips. “How quickly will you break, I wonder?” He draws his finger across Alfredo’s right arm. “Seems like someone has already started on you, Dmitri I assume, always had such fondness for the blade. I bet it hurts.”

“Should see him now,” Alfredo retorts hotly, surprised by how dry his throat feels. Fear, no doubt he’s scared about his situation, and tired, and dazed, and his arm stings like a bitch and his head is pounding, but he also couldn’t care less. So this is probably the Bossman it seems, the one who started all this, and the one whose schemes he and The Fakes had fucked up. Hell, at least he’ll get the satisfaction of knowing he’d accomplished something before this guy undoubtedly had his way with him.

“I did see him as a matter of fact,” the man murmurs. “You made quite a mess of his face. I suppose, though, bullets tend to do that to one's appearance. In the end, you made his suffering very brief, didn’t you? Do you think that’s what’ll happen here?”

Alfredo feels his toes curl up at the threat but he scowls back all the same. “I don’t care. There’s nothing that you can do to me now that’ll help you. Face it, you lost.”

The man smiles at him. “Dear boy, this game that you say I’ve lost, why, you do not even know what we’ve been playing. You must be new. Or were you hired just for this job?”

Alfredo’s eyes widen at the reveal. So this guy thought he was one of The Fakes, or was someone they were paying to help them. He isn’t sure if him thinking that was a good or bad thing, but he presses his lips firmly together and turns his head away to make sure he doesn’t unwillingly give anything away by his expression. Whatever this guy wanted to know, whether Alfredo knew the answer or not; he wouldn’t speak another word. He wouldn’t betray his friends.

“I fear I’ve been ever so rude,” the man says after a pause. “Please, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Edgar.”

Alfredo doesn’t reply, but tries to remember if that name should mean anything to him. He comes up blank.

“Human minds are weak,” the man called Edgar reiterates. “Far weaker than the human body. You can put a human body through a lot more than a human mind before it finally gives out. And with that running through your veins, you will even more susceptible to breaking than most.”

If Alfredo had a bad feeling before, now it was rapidly descending into gut-wrenching.

“You see what I injected you with increases the response of your body’s nerve endings,” Edgar continues. “A little something I had specially made, all the way from Colombia. So you see, the body is much more aware of all sensations. If you’ll allow me to demonstrate…” He reaches forward and carefully picks up Alfredo’s right hand as far as it would go in his restraints.

He offers Alfredo another sickeningly polite smile. And then he bent his thumb backward.

What normally might have been a painful twinge, as the digit is moved in a way it isn’t meant to, is blinding pain and he screams in both surprise and agony even as the rational part of his mind pleads for him to realize that he isn’t actually hurt.

Edgar releases his hand and drops it back on the table with a thud that sends a white-hot pain up his entire arm.

“You have two options. One: tell me everything you know about the Fakes and I’ll let you go. Or two: don’t, and we’ll see how long you last,” he says. “Pain or no pain? Which shall you choose?”

He does not seem to expect an answer but Alfredo’s silence is one enough.

“I will keep this simple for you,” he says. “You answer my questions truthfully and you may have a sip of water. You deny me anything, and I can assure you, it will not be pleasant.”

Alfredo see’s Edgar’s face light up in a creepy grin, and he feels shivers down his spine. Even that small motion seems more intense than usual.

There is no way this can end well.

There’s no way out. You know there isn’t.

At least not with this asshole still in the room. Maybe you can wait.

That’s it, maybe you can hold out until he leaves. Don’t give him what he wants and he’ll give you a break eventually. Don’t be stupid, don’t say anything, you think you can do that no matter what he does? Sure as hell hope so.

Right now you feel false confidence. But he’s already given you a little taste and that was enough. But the others, you can’t let the others down. Not after everything.

They’ll come for you.

A good plan - but in reality is it really one that he can pull off? Someone who just a few weeks ago had barely stepped a foot out of his own few blocks, just a corner kid who spent his days evading the cops and dealing with other small crews. Now that’s all changed, now he feels like he’s someone different, like he could never go back to that way of living again. He doesn’t know if that’s scary.

What is scary, though, is the look on Edgar’s face as he pulls up a chair and sits beside him.

“Right then,” he says quietly. “I think it’s time we began, don’t you think?”

Alfredo glares defiantly, and sees the man smile again. He managed a small one himself - a small one, something close to mocking.

“Excellent!” Edgar declares, and picks up Alfredo’s wrist. His hand is very cold, and the touch makes his throat tighten uncomfortably. He focuses on keeping his breathing as steady as possible, and tries to ignore the way his heart lurches at the dangerous glint in the other man’s eyes. “Let’s start off easy then, how long have you worked for The Fakes?”

Worked for The Fakes? Just who did this guy think he was?

It isn’t a question he could answer properly even if he wanted to, but he keeps quiet all the same. If this Edgar realizes he’s a nobody he might be done with him even quicker than originally planned.

His captor observes him for a few long moments. Eventually, he rolls his eyes. “Perhaps a broader question to start things off,” he says. “Provide me information on everything you know about The Fakes. But I’m warning you,” he adds, “this is your last chance.” And squeezes Alfredo’s wrist a little bit tighter.

Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. This guy isn’t actually going to physically hurt him. It’s all going to be in his head. He just has to breathe.

He doesn’t see it with his eyes squeezed closed, but he feels the hand grip even tighter again and he braces for the oncoming pain.

And well, at least he isn’t disappointed. His thumb is bent back again but he may as well have broken it, burned it, and injected it with a volt of electricity all at the same time. His screams echo in the otherwise quiet cell, that dissolve into quiet gasps for air as he works to get his breathing back under control. But once he’s somewhat calm again, Edgar repeats his words. “Tell me everything you know about The Fakes. About Ramsey. About Free. That new little driver they’ve got themselves. Everything.”

“No.” Alfredo tells him out-loud this time, although he keeps his eyes averted and refuses to look at the man, like when he and Denny were little and he’d had a nightmare. His brother would always tell him to close his eyes, hide under the covers. If you couldn’t see the monsters then they can’t see you.

His index finger is twisted this time. He bites down hard on his tongue to keep himself from screaming so instead gets a mouthful of blood and an insane stabbing pain of his own doing, as what should have been a brief stab of pain feels like he’s just chopped his own tongue off.

Edgar actually chuckles at that. Of course he does, Alfredo thinks. This guy is a sick bastard. It only serves to make him even more determined to not say a word.

Things repeat for a while then, as each moment of silence or rebuttal earns him agonizing pain for a few seconds and Edgar would repeat his query with the same cadence as before. Alfredo supposes he ought to be grateful he isn’t actually hurting him, because that would hurt much, much more. He can only hope it continues that way.

His body feels like it’s been put through a meat grinder, even though logically he knows it’s practically the same as it had been when Edgar started this whole thing. He's begun counting each torture to try and give him a better timeline. He thinks they were on about the twenty-fifth ask now and Edgar generally allows him nearly a whole minute to recover.

Which means it hasn’t even been going on for an hour? Fuck me…

Despite the pain though, Alfredo’s still thinking clearly. He supposes that was part of Edgar’s plan, as he’s seeking information. But it was backfiring on him because Alfredo’s able to continue to remind himself that all of this doesn’t matter. They’re superficial wounds, therefore, he can continue to hold out and protect his friends.

The only thing that really hurts is his throat again as he's screamed it raw and every gasping breath only hurt it more. But otherwise he’s fine. Really. This isn’t so bad. He can keep this up for a while still. Maybe he’s more of a badass than he thought. Perhaps some of The Fakes has rubbed off on him over the past few days.

Eventually, Edgar’s going to have to take a break himself, right? So Alfredo should get a break then too.

As if summoned, he hears the door open and footsteps move towards them. Well, that’s quicker than expected but he’ll take it!

That’s until he makes out the face of the man who’s entered the room. It was the one with the burn scar who’d finally knocked him out back at the sawmill. He’d seemed very pissed back then. And he doesn’t exactly look any happier now.

“The men are asking for you,” the Russian says, large arms crossed over an equally large chest as his intense gaze moves between Edgar and Alfredo.

Alfredo glares at him and subtly flips him off with his untouched left hand, although the man likely neither see’s nor cares as he and Edgar seem to be sharing a look. It makes Alfredo feel better though. He’ll take his small victories where he can right now.

“Very well, I will address them,” Edgar says after a few moments, releasing Alfredo’s abused hand.

Alfredo struggles to hide his relief. Finally!

"Continue for me, Arkady." What? No!

“Permission to give him my own treatment.”

“Superficial wounds have been causing him great pain, but so far to no avail. If you wish, you may increase the intensity, but only minimally. I want him lucid enough to answer questions.”

The Russian smiles, showing nearly a full set of gold teeth. “I understand.”

Edgar sweeps from the room without a sound, leaving the remaining two to stare at one another. Alfredo’s mind is racing as he tries to figure out what increasing the intensity would involve. He bets The Fakes would know instantly and they’d be able to mentally prepare somewhat. All he has is a sinking feeling he doesn’t want to proceed to any higher level in this screwed up torture.

Arkady picks up the same hand that Edgar’s been toying with. Although where his hand was just about Alfredo’s size, this man's dwarfed it. However…

Alfredo lets out a small, uncontrolled laugh that had the Russian’s face going from anger to confusion. "Your… your shirt…" Alfredo manages, trying to pull his hand away with zero success as a giggle works its way out. “It’s got bird shit on it.”

For the most brief of moments, the Russian looks like he doesn’t know how to reply to him, just stares down at the mark on his shirt with surprise, but it does not take long for him to compose himself and his face moves back to a dark countenance within seconds. "Do you know who I am?" he asks, grip tightening on Alfredo’s hand in a painful manner.

Alfredo loses the grin at the renewed pain and presses his lips together firmly. He isn’t going to be answering any questions, unless this man reveals he’s secretly working with The Fakes and he’s here to get him out. That would be pretty awesome. Please let him say that, Alfredo silently pleads.

"I am Arkady, my brother and I were born killers" he continues as Alfredo winces at the continued pressure that’s rapidly beginning to approach an all too familiar and painful threshold. "And now, I am the only one who remains. My brother, Dmitri, was killed by some pathetic boy.”

And that prayer just took a suicide jump out the window. Alfredo gives a small whimper as his hand is practically crushed now to the point where black dots appear in his vision. Arkady’s unnerving gaze bores into his, who for the first time since he's been injected with the whatever the fuck that stuff had been, feels actual fear rather than just pain.

Part of him feels sad for the man. He knew what it was like to lose family, and he supposes the two were close. But there’s no real sympathy there, it was this man’s brother who had actively been trying to cause havoc for his crew and who murdered his own brother. And he really doesn’t think saying "sorry" is going to cut it. Not when he’s the one who had literally pulled the trigger.

"I will show you what real pain feels like," Arkady promises. "Now suffer.”

He doesn’t even ask a question. He just takes Alfredo’s index finger between his hands and bends it. But unlike Edgar, he doesn’t stop as the knuckle contracts back. And Alfredo can only seize with horror as his bone is snapped in two.

He realizes he must have blacked out as he comes to, his injured limb still throbbing and showing no signs of stopping. He happens to meet Arkady’s eyes and blanches at the look of absolute fury that fills them.

Arkady snarls back and grips his thumb. And just like before he does not ask a question or demand an answer. But he does break the digit.

Somehow this time Alfredo remains conscious, even as he prays to black out - because his entire body’s on fire and his hand is screaming at him and he realizes somewhere that hands can’t scream so that must actually be coming out of his mouth. His back arches off the table as far as it can go, which only chokes him from the binds over his throat and turns the scream into a terrible sounding cough as he gags for air.

He couldn't believe he was even thinking this, but where was Edgar? He needs to come back now! Seconds pass and he lies twitching and gasping on the table, his hand still encased in Arkady’s and the pressure alone on his broken fingers making him want to throw up. Tears leak down his face, blurring his vision, but he can still make out the fury etched on the other’s face.

"You are weak," the man spat. "I cannot believe this is a member of The Fakes.”

You’d be right.

But somehow Alfredo’s mouth moves without his consent as years and years of sarcastic comebacks between rival crews decide now is a good time to say something to show that he hasn’t given in. Not yet. "S-strong enough to… to beat y-your brother," he gasps out.

If Arkady had been projecting fury before, it moves beyond that. With a roar of primal rage, he yanks Alfredo’s arm up, choking him as his entire body jerks against the restraints.

"W-wait," Alfredo stutters as he realizes what’s going to happen. “D—"

The ‘don't' dies on his lips as the man twists his wrist until the bones inside crack into two and blinding white agony overtakes him.

The last clear thought he has as comforting blackness takes him away is that he’s going to die here. Right now. And despite his earlier conviction to do what it takes to protect his friends even if it meant taking himself out of the equation, he finds he doesn’t want to die. He wants to live. His mind and body scream at him to survive no matter what.

And that terrifies him.

When Edgar returns he is none too happy with Arkady’s handiwork, because apparently he ‘wasn’t ready to move onto such measures’ yet.

Alfredo’s barely awake when they’re arguing. The pain - if having his finger simply bent backward was horrific, having an actual bone snapped was indescribable - he’d kind of half passed out after the first break. He doesn’t know the exact damage. He just knows he’s even more injured than he was before but his mind’s so fuzzy he can’t even remember what injuries he’d already sustained anyway. He’s scared that what Edgar said will come true - that his mind was weak, that it would break - and he’d give up something he shouldn’t. Though he’s still amazed Edgar hasn’t realized just how useless he actually is, that he’s no member of The Fakes, just someone who got caught up in all this shit a week ago.

Edgar steps forward and eyes Alfredo’s face. He’s sent Arkady on his way. The entire room seems to grow in size without the hulk of a man inhabiting it anymore but it doesn’t make him feel any deal safer.

The man inspects his messed up hand with more annoyance than concern. Like a man who’s come back to find his car with slightly scratched paintwork. To Alfredo, it feels like his whole hands on fire, no one pain discernible from the rest, and his whole body in general feels bruised and tired, turning stiff and sore. It kinda hurts to breathe in too deeply. In hindsight, he probably should have focused more on shooting rather than hand-to-hand combat during the sawmill fight. He wasn’t the best when it came to brawling and his ribs hadn’t been quite a hundred percent yet, but god damn the adrenaline he’d felt at the time had pushed him through it. No adrenaline was coursing through his veins now though, only something far deadlier.

Edgar takes a step back again and sighs. He’s still got the look of a businessman; all groomed, still wearing a crisp button-up shirt and tie. Alfredo wonders who he is - who he was to The Fakes - someone from their past with a hefty grudge.

“Well it seems we’re going to have to continue with Arkady’s methods,” the man says finally, when Alfredo takes in a breath and ends up coughing painfully instead.

“I still won’t tell you anything,” Alfredo replies. “I’ll never betray them.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure you’ve got all these images of heroism floating around in your head, mark my words, that won’t last long, especially now,” Edgar almost says with a hint of regret, and Alfredo’s eyes narrow.

“You almost sound upset,” he mentions as so.

“Oh, I am,” Edgar replies sincerely. He turns away, and oh God, please don’t let that be what he thinks it is. His body jerks in reflex to seeing the syringe being prepped once more - bile rising in his throat, and eyes widening, unable to look away as Edgar returns to his side. “I do so love to get to know my subject a little better before their minds are too far gone.”

“I don’t need any more,” Alfredo rushes, panicked. “First dose is working just fine, case you hadn’t noticed.”

“No,” is Edgar’s eloquent response to that. “You see, dear boy, it simply doesn’t work that way. My work is precise, methodical - I start by merely picking at the surface, gently prodding to see what’s underneath the skin. I would have done so more if that Russian oaf hadn’t disobeyed my orders so hot-headedly. The only way from here is further down, I’m afraid.”

For a moment, Alfredo thinks he might pass out there and then. But his brain’s still in overdrive desperately trying to think of a way out of this situation.

“You need me alive, right?” he replies, trying to keep the shake from his voice. “How do you know giving me too much of that shit won’t kill me?”

“A valid point,” Edgar chuckles, and holds up the syringe for Alfredo to see better, who physically recoils back into the table at the sight. “But one I’d already considered, see? Half full, this has been proven a safe dosage in the past, you’ll be fine… well, you know what I mean.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Alfredo retorts immediately. “You’re like messed in the head or something. Like you keep saying all this shit about how human minds are weak, think that’s just cause yours fucked off a while back,” he adds, glaring with every ounce of anger and contempt he held for this man, who merely raises an amused eyebrow. Apparently it’s possible for him to look even creepier. Alfredo thinks a smile on this man’s face is ten times scarier than the anger on Arkady’s.

“Well, we’ll see who’s the more sane one at the end of this session,” he tells Alfredo. “We will be continuing as before - a question and an acceptable answer will grant you a moment's rest, an unacceptable answer or silence will result in a punishment. Rather more severe this time, like I said, can’t be going back on the work that’s already been done.”

“Fuck you,” Alfredo cries, because there’s nothing left to say. “Just fucking do it already! Get it over with!”

Edgar nods politely. And he injects more of the poison into his arm.

“Tell me,” he begins, “who are the current main members of The Fakes? I know Geoff is still in charge, and little Gavin is bound to still be there too, but who else?”

“Yeah,” Alfredo replies. “Scooby doo too, they’ve turned their hands to mystery solving in recent years.”

Edgar grabs his broken hand, his fingers putting pressure on bones that Alfredo swears he can hear screaming, makes him grit his teeth so hard it feels they might crack too.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Edgar says, and reaches out and cups his hand over Alfredo’s kneecap instead. “I’d forgotten that one had already been dealt with.” And with that he pushed down with both hands onto the joint, as hard as if he were performing CPR, expression not changing as he watches Alfredo as there’s a horrible popping sound; uncaring about putting on a cool front, Alfredo lets out a scream of pain that sounds more animal than human, and Edgar steps back and folds his arms while he studies his prisoner writhing in his binds.

“Sixty seconds and then we’ll try again,” Edgar says patiently, and he emphasizes the point by tapping his watch face.

“Fu… fuck you,” Alfredo murmurs, in between harsh breaths, half blind from the tears in his eyes. He doesn’t know what state his knee is in, whether it’s actually dislocated or not, might as well have had a hammer taken to it with the amount it hurt according to his brain.

“Such foul language, youth of today. Blame the parents though, I say.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d make a great father,” Alfredo retorts, even though it’s getting harder to breath let alone speak by the second. A sudden wave of terror rushes over him - the thought that this psycho may very well have children; his dad hadn’t been the best father and most of his friends parents growing up hadn’t been role model parents - and nearly all of them had been kids themselves when they’d been raising them and he knew he kinda lucked out getting brought up mainly by his grandmother who had another twenty years experience over most of the other parents, someone who’d already been there, done that. But, however young and immature the parents of his generation may have been, they still had one thing Edgar was clearly lacking, an actual sense of care, an idea that there was value in another human’s life.

Alfredo doesn’t think this man could care less if he killed a human or a fly, everything was just seen as a plaything for his sick little games. His vision swims, and he has to shut his eyes, to block out everything for a moment even though in the darkness it feels as if he’s suffocating, sinking into an abyss with no way out.

Perhaps he did actually black out for a second. The sharp prick in his arm, a pain he wasn’t even ready for, brings his awareness back to him, has his eyes snapping open in time to see Edgar - tucking away a small, sharp needle - like a workman with his tools always at the ready for every scenario.

He stiffens up as Edgar reaches a hand out again, this time placing it on his shoulder. Just the simple touch sends sparks of terror down his spine, a reflex reaction now. He’s trying his best not to cry, can’t bare to break down any more the necessary in front of this asshole, and he wants to stay optimistic. To believe that no matter how shit things may seem now, that there was still a hope that he could get out of here, that someone might come for him. Michael hadn’t wanted to leave him. None of them had, he thinks. They’d just been in an impossible situation.

He had to believe that they wouldn’t just forget about him.

Taking in a deep breath, he sets his mouth firm as he looks up to Edgar with an expression of determination on his face. He forces himself to appear defiant, even if he’s actually exhausted.

“Go on then,” he says. “What’s your next question?”

His bravado doesn’t seem to surprise the man, but strangely, a look of uncertainty has suddenly crossed his face. “Why you?” he asks softly. “Why you? The Fakes, they cherry pick their guys so why, of all the people in this god damned city, why would they have some kid like you working for them? What makes you so special?”

“I dunno, cause I ain’t special. Far from it,” Alfredo replies, and Edgar scowls.

“You’re lying,” he replies, but doesn’t stop watching as Alfredo cracks his first small smile in a while.

“But I know something,” he says, biting back a groan as the grip on his shoulder tightens. “I do know they trust me, that they… that they put their trust in me,” he continues, grin widening as he feels the truth in his own words. “So you’ve got another thing coming if you ever think I’d betray that trust.”

His answer actually renders the other man silent for a moment. There was a brief flash of anger, even if he’d never admit it. But then the eyes and face relax again, and he settles his grip on Alfredo’s shoulder firmly. “No. That’s not it.”

“It the truth!” Alfredo argues. It was! That one actually was!

Edgar’s having none of it. And this time instead of forcing the joint in the wrong direction he pulls out a pocket knife, and cuts with precision a moderately deep line across the top of his arm. “Liar. I cannot abide liars,” he hisses in Alfredo’s ear.

The questions seem to come quicker and quicker after that… a certain frustration added to them too. Something he’d said had rubbed Edgar up the wrong way, in that he was no longer bothering with the facade of being some polite, respectable gentleman. Now he was just a torturer, plain and simple.

Alfredo refuses to speak anymore, not only because it ended up badly the last time but also because he’s worried what he might say if he does start talking. He knows he doesn’t want to give Edgar any information. That the man’s still barking up the wrong tree if he believes Alfredo can truly be of any valuable use to him, but still wanting to make sure he gives him nothing all the same. Just in case. But each answered question leaves him in more pain than the last one - how many had it been now? Was he even paying attention to them anymore? What if he’s said something without even realizing it? He’s seen the dumb stuff people say when they get high or drunk. He wondered if the same counted when you were in so much pain you could barely think.

How much more? How much more of this could he take?

Please, he thinks, and finally gives up on trying to keep the tears in, not caring if Edgar saw him cry now. He body needs to use every outlet available to it in order to express the pain it was in. The cuts feel even worse than the broken bones, like he can feel the metal blade sliding through and ripping up the flesh, and Edgar latches onto that, keeps on using it.

Now he’s so out of it his own screams sound foreign. His body’s still reacting as violently as before to the pain being inflicted on him… but his mind’s another story, it’s locked itself away, putting up the barricades to shelter from the hurricane that raged outside. He knows he won’t be able to keep it up for long, that eventually that hurricane would break through and be left to wreak havoc, but he’ll take the respite while he can, and in a really fucked up way he’s glad of it. At least with his mind closed off from the current reality he doesn’t have to worry about letting slip something about The Fakes - the pain is all there is now, nothing else, there’s nothing else in his world other than pain.

And then eventually, thankfully, everything goes dark.

You’re gonna die here is the thought that runs through his head constantly now.

It sounded fucking morbid, didn’t it? But it wasn’t him being hysterical or pessimistic, it was simply a fact he’d come to accept.

He’s gonna die here, either from one of Edgar’s torture sessions or simply from starvation and dehydration. Whichever comes first, at least he’ll know he kept his promise and didn’t break despite all of the bullshit about how his mind was weak and fragile. Maybe he was the exception but as far as Alfredo’s confused, his body was weak and broken, but his mind? His mind was pissed off. Pissed off and smug at the realization that he was actually starting to get to Edgar. That his consistent silence was not something the man had expected to be kept up for so long.

It’s his… fourth day here, he thinks. And he’s still able to drift to the back of his subconscious while he’s being broken and cut. Still able to separate that part of his mind, the part that is the most vulnerable.

It won’t last.

Each time; every new bruise or wound he gains, he can feel it slipping, and he knows it won’t be long before he’s too far gone, but he’ll just have to last - would rather die than go insane.

But yeah. He might be feeling proud of himself for having held out for such a time, doesn’t mean everything sucks any less. He wants his grandma, misses her, worries that she’s worrying about him. Wonders what’s happening with The Fakes, if they’ve been in contact with her, if Ryan was okay.

It feels weird that up until two weeks ago he was no more than a drug dealer, a corner kid making his money by selling to the down and outs of their neighborhood - no worries at all, not really, nothing more than any other guy his age living the life he had been. Nothing at all like the past week, certainly. And to think, he muses - it all would never have happened if he’d simply let that burning continue burning and carried on his way. He didn’t know what would have happened, but not this, he would never have gotten involved with his childhood heroes.

You’d think that maybe he’d regret ever stepping a foot into the lives of The Fakes, but if he was truly honest with himself, he didn’t regret it one bit. Sure, he wishes the tale could have had a happier ending, but who knows, he might have been long dead already, killed in some pointless squabble between his crew and Dmitri’s thugs.

He’s happy he’s met The Fakes. That he got to see them for who they are as people, not just the characters he had created inside his head since he was a child; no matter how brief, he was glad he’d made that connection.

But he wishes there could be more time.

I mean, he doesn’t really have any friends, most of the people he spends his days with are teens, and he just doesn’t have anything in common with them. There’s his grandma, but even though he always feels like he can talk to her about anything, it was hard for her to understand what he was going through sometimes.

He’d felt something - with Michael especially, but Gavin too, and Jack. Geoff was also the first person he’d ever met who commanded respect rather than demanding it.

He thinks maybe, if he’d had that little bit more time, he could’ve been good friends with them. Maybe even Ryan.

Edgar enters the room while he’s in the middle of thinking.

There’s no greeting. No mocking remark. It’s simply down to business.

But as always - Alfredo won’t say a word.

It’s night when things kick off, or at least that’s what it feels like; truth be told Alfredo has no bearing on what time it is, all he knows is that he’s woken from a fitful slumber by the sounds of multiple shouts and gunshots. If he were a doctor (which, when he’d been four years old, he actually thought he was going to be) he’d say he was most definitely ‘fucked up’.

He can’t remember how long he’s been held captive but it’s been long enough for him to gain a handful of broken bones, even more cuts and lacerations, and too-many-to-count bruises. It’s only in times like now, when the effects of the drug have finally worn off, that he can do a realistic survey of the damages, otherwise beforehand it literally feels like his whole body is being torn to pieces.

He’s beyond confused when all the noise starts up. He’d had no idea how big the building was - only ever known this one room, but from the sounds of it it’s pretty big, the original echoes so quiet that he wonders if he’s imaging them. There’s a fight going on, Alfredo knows. Those were not the sounds of target practice, it was too frantic.

The sounds get louder and closer until eventually the door busts open, spilling bright white light into the room, and Alfredo instinctively flinches away at the silhouette of a figure standing tall in the doorway, too accustomed to associating that image with further pain.

“Oh thank fucking God,” the figure says eventually, and Alfredo’s ears prick up. He’d recognize that accent anywhere. “The fuck did they do to you? Oh, I’m gonna rip their fucking faces off, you can be sure of that.”

“Michael?” Alfredo murmurs, squinting as the figure crouches down beside him and works on cutting his binds. The sounds of gunfire still haven’t died down, but they’re getting less frequent, and this room feels calm all of a sudden. Still, he can’t quite believe his eyes, scared that this might be some new cruel drug Edgar is testing on him. “Is that really you?”

Michael finishes untying him - but Alfredo, having been in the same position for so long, feels unable to move. There’s a hand in his, his good… well, better one, and Michael’s fingers brush lightly against his forehead.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Alfredo,” he jokes, though his voice is tight, and he swallows hard before speaking again. “You able to stand?”

“I - I dunno… I think so.”

“Alright,” Michael reassures him gently. “That’s alright - hey, get in here dickhead, give me a hand!”

“He okay?” a new voice asks, one Alfredo doesn’t recognize.

“No. But he’ll be okay. Won’t you - remember what you told me? You’re a soldier, Alfredo. Come on now, we’re just gonna sit up slowly, that’s good, boy.” He doesn’t break off his comforting chatter as Alfredo sits up; he almost passes out, just that simple movement sending his head spinning and his whole body screaming, but he’s determined and above all he’s relieved. They actually came for him, they actually came to rescue him, and they were doing it and now he was getting out of this hell.

“Who’re you?” he mumbled, looking bleary-eyed at the new person as they maneuvered him to the edge of the table.

“Name’s Trevor,” the man simply replies.

Trevor.

He’s the guy who’d been following Hanson around, right? Another member of The Fakes then. Huh - pretty cool.

“Oh…” Alfredo blinks, eyelids heavy. “Nice to meet you.”

The man lets out a small chuckle. “Yeah, nice to meet you too.”

“Alright kid, come on, let’s try this,” Michael says, and tries to pull him up under his shoulders. Apparently, Alfredo’s having none of this, as he lets out an unintentional cry that has Michael blabbering out apologies and Trevor hurriedly asking what hurt.

Everything. Everything fucking hurts, he tries to say, but fuck - even talking seems like too much effort now.

“What in God’s name is going on in here?”

Geoff?

“We were seeing if he could stand, and well, it didn’t work. He’s in pretty bad shape.”

“I can see that. Why’d you try to make him stand anyway?”

“Well… he said he thought he could and–”

There’s a muffled thud and Michael shuts up. Meanwhile, Alfredo’s struggling to focus his vision as Geoff leans over to look at his face. A warm hand cups his cheek and runs a finger over the bruises Alfredo knows are there. “Sorry, but I can’t see you walking outta here, buddy. Trevor, go and make sure the guys are ready to leave asap. I’ll get Jack in here to patch up what he can and –”

Alfredo slips away while he’s still talking, allowing himself to fall into the darkness, happy and relieved, but most importantly, safe. It’d be okay. They’d come for him. Everything would be alright now.

“How bad do you think his grandma is gonna kill us?” Someone is speaking. Alfredo’s face contorts as he tries to concentrate, utterly disoriented for a few moments, trying desperately to remember where’d he’d been before he’d apparently fallen asleep - and what was that about his grandma killing someone?

Everything all comes back rather quickly, and rather painfully. He lets out a pained groan, opening eyes that feel like they’ve been superglued shut. He’s met by two extremely concerned faces peering down at him - ones that only reboot his memory even faster - but their eyes are lighting up at the same time.

“Hey, buddy,” Michael greets, in a whisper - looking as normal and laidback as ever as he grins down at him, perhaps his hair slightly more tousled than before, the bags under his eyes a shade darker. Other than that he looks exactly like Alfredo remembers as he pushes Gavin into view too so the other man can meet his gaze.

“You remember what happened?” Gavin asks first; Alfredo nods but then pauses, not only because the motion makes his head hurt but because he only remembered what happened up to a point. “You’ve been unconscious since we brought you here, but that’s nothing to worry about. Jon says you just needed your sleep after everything.”

Alfredo stares at him, struggling to process all the words. He’s tired, and he still feels like he’s just finished running five marathons, and most of his limbs are tightly constricted by what he assumes are bandages, but he manages a smile anyway. Wants to let them know that other than all that, he’s okay.

“Hey!” Michael exclaims suddenly. “I just realized something! Every time I’ve met you, you’ve been lying on the ground. At least you’re in a bed this time, right? And there’s no big motherfucker squashing you.”

“Hey,” Alfredo says, his cheeks warming - despite everything they’d been through, he’s still easily embarrassed in front of these guys, unable to quite rid himself of the idolising nature he’s carried for so long, that made it seem like he was meeting his heroes every time one of them spoke to him. “You making fun of me?”

Michael reaches out and squeezes his shoulder gently, and gives Alfredo a cheeky grin.

“Well, you have to admit, Alfredo - it was pretty fucking funny.”

“Saved your life asshole,” Alfredo mumbles, blinking heavily.

“Nah, I think I was good.”

Alfredo sighs, supposing it’ll take a while to live that one down. Michael lets go of him and leans back laughing. Gavin rolls his eyes and gives the other man a nudge, reaches out and brushes his fingers through Alfredo’s hair.

“Leave it off Michael, he’s still half out of it,” he says softly - eyes gentle as he gives Alfredo a once over.

Michael takes a deep breath, gathering himself. He winks at Alfredo. “He knows I’m only kidding,” adding, “How you feeling? You in pain at all?”

“No,” Alfredo begins, “nothing bad anyway. Jus’ tired.” He shuts his eyes, and finds he’s unable to open them again.

“Alright, tired’s good… we’ll stop bothering ya,” Michael replies hesitantly, like he’s unsure about leaving.

Alfredo doesn’t really care what they do. He just wants to go to sleep.

“C’mon, Michael, he’ll be fine.”

There’s silence, and then a stiff, “I know.”

“Then let him rest,” Gavin coaxes.

Another moments silence, and then a sigh. Alfredo feels a hand card through his hair in his half-awake state.

“Get better soon kid, I’ll see ya on the other side.”

“Mm not a kid,” he manages to mumble, and that brings out a laugh from Michael.

“I don’t care. You’ve only just entered the hazing faze.”

They leave then, and he’s quick to drift off - just one thought in his mind.

What did that mean?

The next time Alfredo wakes up properly he’s greeted by someone he would never in a million years have expected to be keeping watch by his bed.

Ryan’s looked better - in his very short time of knowing him this is definitely the worst Alfredo has seen him - physically-wise. His surprise must be evident on his face because Ryan’s first reaction is to smirk as he hobbles closer to the bed. He’s alive!

Somehow that feels like Alfredo’s greatest accomplishment. This man, Ryan, he was the whole reason Alfredo had gone and played the hero, because Ryan had gone and got himself shot. But who cares about the past, Ryan’s alive, he’s alive, they’re all good.

Ryan stands there for a few moments, shuffling awkwardly on his crutches, unsure what to say. When he’s finally had enough of being silent he settles for sighing instead and clicking his tongue in a way that makes Alfredo feel like he’s about to be told off by a teacher.

“You,” Ryan eventually says, and something passes across his face, something a mix of annoyed and confused and relieved. He stares down hard at Alfredo. “You - do you have any idea how stupid you are?”

“I’m uh… I’m sorry, I – ”

“Now I’m gonna owe you for the rest of my life,” Ryan bursts out. Once it’s out, the rest seems to follow more naturally. “You’re gonna need to get yourself kidnapped again or something - just so I can rescue you by myself!”

“Umm…” Alfredo says, confused, and Ryan begins hobbling back and forth in a kind of awkward pacing march.

“Also, you forced us to call in Fakehaus to help even though I still hadn’t forgiven James after he scratched up my bike last time!”

“I don’t –”

“You don’t think! Cause you’re stupid and young and… stupid… and I am very not happy with you.”

Alfredo bites back his grin. Suddenly, Ryan doesn’t seem so scary.

“Okay, I get it. I’m stupid,” he admits, smirking a little.

“Yes,” Ryan says.

“And I didn’t think before I acted.”

“Yes.”

“And I saved your life.”

“Ye –” The word cuts out short, and Ryan finally stops his penguin shuffling. “Yes, you did,” he says quietly, eyes softening.

Their eyes meet. And Alfredo doesn’t need to be a mind reader to see the gratitude expressed in the blue orbs - an emotion Ryan might not be able to express in words easily, but showing his true feelings nevertheless. It’s Alfredo who breaks the spell first and smiles, Ryan quickly following suit.

“Sorry, I’m… sorry. It’s been a stressful couple of weeks,” he mumbles, wincing as he takes a seat next to the bed.

“How’s your leg?” Alfredo asks, stifling a yawn.

“Annoying. Though, could be worse. Jon says I need to use these bastards for another month,” he scoffs at the crutches, giving them a glare as if they were the things that actually shot him. “He’ll be lucky if I stay in them another week.”

He shakes his head, stretching his arms out. “I shouldn’t be bothering you. Just wanted to say… well, I don’t really know what I wanted to say other than… thanks. Thank you, Alfredo.”

Some part of Alfredo’s mind leaps with excitement. That’s the first time he’s called you by your name! The other part however, was ready for some answers.

“Before you go,” he begins, “can I ask you something?”

Ryan nods. “Go ahead.”

Alfredo swallows, an unpleasant chill settling on him just at the thought of the man, but he pushes through it, determined. “Who’s Edgar?”

The older man freezes up, a huge look of guilt washing over him. Alfredo sees the whites of his knuckles as he tightens his grip on the crutches.

“Edgar,” he says slowly, a dark tension rising in him.

“Edgar,” he repeats. “He used to roll with us back in the day. We worked with him a couple of times anyway, very good at what he did but… well, you’ve seen yourself what sort of man he became - wasn’t as bad back then, but heading in that direction. We tried to make a deal, he didn’t want to hear it. We tried to cut him off, that only pissed him off. We tried so many fucking way to get rid of him and it - it ended badly. We thought he was dead. We saw his car go up in flames and –” He shakes himself, breathing slowly, only looking to Alfredo once most of the tension has been rid of. “Well, it’s a story for another day.”

Alfredo regards the man. He feels a horrible lump form in his throat as the memories resurface, and he hears echoes of his own screams in his ears, but he swallows it back, and instead offers Ryan a small smile.

“Promise?” he says. He has a right to know. No matter how unpleasant, he deserves to know more than anyone about whatever shit went down to make a man like Edgar so hellbent on destroying other human beings lives.

Ryan studies him carefully. “Promise,” he says eventually, and Alfredo knows he’ll keep it.

Still, he can’t help himself. Must be the meds…

“Pinky promise?” he asks, lifting his little finger as far as it could go, which was barely at all due to that hand being tightly wrapped up.

Ryan’s expression is one of bemusement, but his face relaxes, and he reaches out with an eye roll. “Pinky promise,” he says, linking their fingers together briefly.

He struggles to his feet then. Cheeks slightly reddened, from the heat of the room or from what just passed between them, Alfredo’s unsure -  but it suits him, he thinks, a man who wears embarrassment well.

He doesn’t say another word until he’s nearly out the door, and even then it’s a last minute decision, an afterthought. He looks to Alfredo, serious again, and speaks softly. “You don’t need to pretend everything’s okay. You don’t need to be strong or brave or whatever you think you should be.” Something flickers in his blue eyes, something not too far off from sadness. “Believe me I know what scars a man like Edgar can leave behind, so if you ever want to talk…”

He trails off, and they spend a few silent moments just watching each other. After a few more, Alfredo gives a small nod and a smile, grateful for the offer.

Ryan appears relieved, back straightening as he composes himself to look like the man in charge again. “Alright, when you next see me I’ll be free of these monstrosities,” he says, confidently, whacking the wall with one of the crutches, chipping some of the paint off.

The man’s eyes widen a little at the dent in the wall he’s made, and he glances back to make sure no one else saw.

Alfredo smirks, deciding he very much likes this new Ryan he’s slowly getting a glimpse of. “I’ll hold you to that.”

It’s not until his eighth day that he’s finally allowed to leave. He’s still got his left hand wrapped up tightly as well as a brace on his knee, coupled with multiple bruises that have yet to fade, and cuts that are still healing hopefully not to scar too bad, but other than that he’s good - wants to just get out of there anyway, there actually being not a hospital but a building near a hospital belonging to the man he’d heard Michael and Gavin fondly refer to as “The Fuck Doctor.”

The man, Jon, seems nice enough to Alfredo, and he’s looked after him well enough, so he isn’t quite sure where that name came from, but he’s also beginning to realize that if you weren’t being insulted by those two, they probably didn’t like you that much.

“Idiot,” is one of the first things Gavin says to him, to back that theory up. “When Jon said take things slow I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean almost knock yourself out straight away.”

“It’s not my fault, it’s a stupid place for a shelf,” Alfredo grumbles, batting the other man’s fingers away from his head.

“You’re bleeding,” Michael points out. He reaches out a hand to wipe away the few specks of blood from the reopened wound on his eyebrow. He shakes his head like a disapproving parent - Alfredo suspects it was one of the reasons Michael and his grandma had got on so well.

He takes a step back.

“It’s fine. Once we get outside it’ll dry up again, real quick. C’mon don’t make me wait any longer. I ain’t seen outside in forever, I wanna go.”

“Alright, alright, we’re taking you for walkies, calm down.” Gavin ignores the glare Alfredo sends his way, striding off with a small smirk. “Actually, we’re getting straight in a car, but then Geoff… Geoff wanted to see you and walk you the rest of the way home.”

Gavin reaches out a hand and grabs Michael’s.

“Let’s get out of here, boy,” he says, jerking his head for Alfredo to follow them, which doesn’t need repeating, Alfredo’s raring to leave. It’s not a long walk to the exit but he can already feel his knee starting to ache a little when they finally do get outside.

“Feel good?” Michael asks.

“Yeah, real good,” Alfredo replies, tilting his head back to the afternoon sun. “I’ve never wanted to be outside so much in my life.”

“Bet it won’t last long,” Gavin pipes up. “This city is too damn hot. I can’t stand it.”

“You’ve had fifteen years to leave,” Michael retorts, grinning. “If you hate it so much I’m sure we can find you a nice little desk job with air-con to keep you happy. I’m sure Trevor would be more than willing to fill your spot. He’s better looking too. Probably be even better at sweet talking all these assholes - probably get a raise, probably become boss one day–”

Gavin cuts him off by launching an empty water bottle at him. Michael doesn’t blink as it bounces off his forehead with a dull thump and onto the concrete below, rolling a little before coming to a stop at Gavin’s feet.

“Well, that was pathetic,” Michael remarks, and laughs, sauntering over to a nearby black van. “Fredo, you’re riding shotgun. Let the sweating British child sulk in the back.”

“Sounds good,” Alfredo agrees, grinning ruefully at Gavin’s affronted expression. Damn, it feels like he’s known these guys for years.

Being himself around these two just felt easy, natural. Joking about seemed like a second nature. But it was more than just the banter - it’s the sense that they truly do enjoy having him around, that he’s not just some kid they’ve been forced to babysit. Michael especially has always done his utmost to make sure he doesn’t feel like an outsider.

He hops into the passenger seat. Quite literally, he hops in, slightly annoyed that he’s already starting to tire. Jon had warned him that might happen, that he’d need to give himself time to get muscle strength back, and his knee was stuck in a brace for another few weeks.

He understood where Ryan was coming from. At least he didn’t need to carry himself around on crutches that seemed more hindrance than help at times. He hasn’t seen Ryan since that talk they’d had, but the man had sent a message via Michael. ‘Hi.’ That had been it. Apparently, that was rather talkative for the man.

“Okay,” Michael says after they’ve been driving for ten minutes. “Be on the lookout for Geoff. He’ll be wearing a black hat, black shirt, black pants, and black boots. He said he’ll be on this street somewhere and yeah, think he’s just gonna walk you the rest of the way home. Fond of a good old walk and talk, is our Geoff.”

Alfredo watches out of the window - wonders how much he’s gonna hurt by the time he gets home. He’s certain he’ll be able to make the walk but he’d been hoping to show his grandma how completely, one hundred percent fine he was. He’s already got multiple tastes over how overbearing she was going to be during her visits every day. Ah well, she probably would have seen through his guise anyway. No, scratch that, she definitely would’ve.

It’s Gavin who spies Geoff leaning against a brick wall, basically invisible in the shadows, so much so that it takes a moment for Alfredo to find him even after Gavin had called it.

“This is you then,” Michael says, pulling up by the sidewalk. He leans across and hugs Alfredo tightly, who hugs him back, pressing his face into Alfredo’s hair for a second before letting him go.

“I’m gonna miss ya, buddy,” he says. “Text me later tonight, okay?”

“Will do,” Alfredo promises, pulling a face as Gavin reaches forward and ruffles his hair in his own way of saying goodbye.

“Stay out of trouble, Fredy-do,” he tells him, putting on a funny voice.

Alfredo wriggles away from his hand and opens the door. He looks over his shoulder and it hits him then that this might be the last time he’ll be seeing them in a while - if he ever does see them again that is - because they’re not just any guys, they’re gonna be fucking busy, trying to fix whatever destruction Edgar had wrought upon them. Maybe they’d never have the chance to meet up again. Perhaps this was just a thing where they’d drift apart until the past few weeks felt like a distant dream. For now, though, Michael still wants Alfredo to text him, so that’s something. And so, with one last look at the two, he steps out of the car, and does his best to stifle a laugh as Michael drives away, Gavin pulling stupid faces in the window.

He hears a sigh and turns to see Geoff shaking his head. It’s not the first time he’s seen Gavin do that, he surmises.

Why am I not surprised?

He walks beside Geoff comfortably, his knee only twinging slightly, letting the older man lead the way both in pace of conversation and walking. The man seems to be taking things extra slowly for his sake - casting concerned gazes his way every so often - keeping the tone light by making joking remarks about what Gavin and Michael had been doing to annoy Ryan while he’s been bed-ridden, making Alfredo chuckle when he admits he was scared of his grandma.

“Here we are,” Geoff says, as they reach Alfredo’s street.

“Here we are,” Alfredo replies, and glances around, wondering how many of the kids hanging around would have actually noticed he’d been gone for nearly three weeks. “Are you uh… are you gonna talk to my grandma?”

Geoff shakes his head, a little hurriedly. He honestly does seem quite flustered by the thought, Alfredo muses. He knows she’s become well-acquainted with Geoff and Michael especially over the past two weeks, mostly her giving them orders, and telling them they needed to stop by the salon she worked at. It’s a strange sight. The leader of the most renowned gang in the city’s history getting nervous about the idea of having to deal with a  small, aging Filipino woman.

A cry of his name as him spinning. There’s a smile on his face as he sees who it is, a familiar face from a life that almost didn’t seem like his anymore, carefree and boyish as ever as he kicks a soccer ball down the opposite side of the street with a few other teens. His lieutenant, Angel, is another reminder that soon things will be going back to normal, that these streets would be his again to watch by tomorrow.

“So… this is your empire.”

“For as long as I’ve known.”

“It’s not as bad as I expected.”

Alfredo laughs.

“Yeah, this if five-star drug dealing right here,” he says, and Geoff also laughs.

“Before I let you go home there was something I need to talk to you about. Something important.” He spots Alfredo’s expression and laughs again. “It’s nothing bad, don’t look so worried.”

Alfredo still feels uncertain. “I promise I won’t say nothing about –”

“I know, I trust you,” Geoff quickly assures him. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about, it was more… it was about what you want to happen now because,” he takes a deep breath in before continuing. “Because what you did? That takes more than just sheer guts. That takes something more. And I don’t wanna hear any of this ‘I’m just a soldier’ bullshit. What you did, for my crew, for my family. That took heart. Good, strong heart. And as you know, that’s kinda hard to come by in my line of work.”

“Oh… well, it never felt like a choice to make,” Alfredo says, sincerely, and Geoff’s forehead crinkles in confusion, so he does his best to explain. “What you guys had right there? What you guys have together - what I seen anyway. That was real and honest and good. And like you said yourself, Sir, that shit is hard to come by. So for once in my life I wanted to feel like I contributed to something good and worthwhile, not just because I felt I had to, but because I wanted to. I wanted to help keep you guys together… glad I did. Honest.”

“So you know… about us,” Geoff says, reading between the lines. “How’d you work that one out?”

Alfredo feels his cheeks heat.

“I saw um, Jeremy and Ryan and then… it just made sense more than it seemed crazy,” he stammers. “I don’t mean to be rude or nothing.”

Honestly, until Geoff had actually said it himself, he’d been unsure if he had been crazy. Ryan and Jeremy he knew, but all of them? That had only ever been a gut feeling. Makes him feel even more certain that he did the right thing by sacrificing himself back at the sawmill.

“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised, you’re a smart kid,” Geoff says softly, but Alfredo can see in his face that he is shocked; of all the things The Fakes try to keep private, their relationship must be the number one thing. He’s not sure if this changes anything - feels good to air it out in the open, although he hopes Geoff keeps the part about Alfredo seeing Jeremy and Ryan to himself. Also that he doesn’t ask for any more details because Alfredo knows fully well he overstepped his boundary by listening in on that intimate conversation for far too long.

Geoff looks around resolutely, and Alfredo tries to follow his gaze, turning to see the rundown houses and kids who should be in school rather than hanging about on street corners. He looks until he hears Geoff clear his throat.

“This isn’t where you belong,” Geoff says, both unsure and determined at the same time. He’s reaching into his pocket and pulling out something small and shiny, tossing it to Alfredo who catches it with his good hand. “That’s why the boys and I wanted to give you this.”

“What’s this?” Alfredo asks, staring at his hand, wide-eyed.

“Keys to your car,” Geoff says simply, and Alfredo’s knees almost buckle under the surprise. “We thought you could do with one if you’re gonna be moving on up in the world. Not gonna tell you how to live your life, so if you want, you can use it to get outta here, even if it’s just for a short time. Experience the world beyond these few blocks. Also, of course, it could be useful for your line of work.”

“I don’t need a car for my work…” Alfredo murmurs, unable to stop staring at his hand.

“You honestly thought we’d let one of us go around on some damn push bike?” Geoff says. He watches Alfredo seriously, before the grin pushes itself onto his lips. “Fredo, my boy, welcome to The Fakes… That is, if you want it?”

Alfredo’s speechless.

He did. Shit, he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything more in his life.

He wants to say so but his mind and body have completely frozen over. In the end, all he can muster up is a small nod, looking up to Geoff excitedly before a thought crosses his mind that he thinks might be one important detail they hadn’t considered.

“Oh, uh…Sir… Geoff, I uh…” he mumbles. “I can’t drive.” Well, he could drive, kinda. He could probably drive a car down the street if it was required, but it wasn’t like he’d ever taken lessons. The most he’d ever spent in a car was when he was younger and one of his friends would hot-wire an unsuspecting vehicle, taking the group of wild boys for a spin until the cops pulled them over.

But he doesn’t think he’ll be safe to drive a new car without doing damage to something or someone.

Geoff doesn’t react in any negative way, just smiles fondly, like he half expected it.

“Do you want to learn?” he asks, and Alfredo looks up eagerly.

“Yeah, I do.”

Geoff nods, rubbing his hands together. “Jeremy can see to that, and hey, you’ll already be one up on Gavin.”

He isn’t quite sure what that means, but there’ll be time to learn. Time to learn more about these guys, to truly know who these incredible, kind-hearted, selfless men were.

He just wishes Denny could be here to see this, but he knows, wherever his brother his, that he’s proud. You better not fucking waste this opportunity, that’s what he would tell him. Oh and give me a proper fucking funeral too now everyone knows I’m dead. I want this shit to be dope, gotta have a ton of flowers, damn good tunes, and plenty of pretty girls crying. Alfredo knows exactly what his brother would want.

After a moment, Geoff reaches out and rests a hand lightly on Alfredo’s shoulder; Alfredo looks up at him, regarding a face he has come to trust so much, and who he has so much to be thankful for, and he leans into the touch. Geoff pulls him close then, Alfredo’s head resting on the man’s shoulder. It’s a comfortable touch, doesn’t feel too dissimilar to what he and Denny used to have together, and Alfredo closes his eyes, Geoff’s warm weight against him reassuring him that everything was going to be okay.

Maybe he did still have that little bit of hero worship still installed in him, it didn’t matter.

When Geoff releases him eventually, there’s a different feeling around the two. And it’s one that makes Alfredo feel he’s healing twice as fast and the sun feels twice as warm on his skin, and he can’t help the massive grin he sends Geoff’s way, one which is returned, sharing a mutual thought in silence. Neither of them can deny it.

This is gonna be a wild ride.

[amandasarmada]

Deleted Scene - “Summer’s Cauldron”

This is a deleted scene from the latest chapter of Summer’s Cauldron, for those curious about what Tina was getting up to when Newt arrives.  It also features a slightly extended version of the prologue, to help set the scene.

NOTE - it is very important that you read the official chapter first, otherwise you’re going to get huge spoilers and the chapter will be ruined for you. :/ No bueno.

From Chapter 8, “The Presidential Palace”

Tina had always been good at not being noticed.  She'd first realized it as a child, picking up on the tendency of friends and relatives to always gravitate toward Queenie, while passing over her - it had hurt her, at first, but rather than wallowing over the fact, she'd chosen instead to embrace it, even managing to channel this trait into a fairly lucrative career.  It wasn't ideal, of course, but - Tina was a pragmatist.  She had her talents, turning heads just wasn't one of them.

So it was with some surprise that Tina studied her reflection, carefully considering the woman staring back at her.  The face in the mirror wore far more makeup than she was accustomed to, but as Tina contemplated the results, she had to admit the effort had been worth it.  Her large, carefully done-up eyes seemed to radiate heat, and the remnants of her summer tan gave her a lovely glow, complementing nicely with the burgundy of her lipstick.

But it was the dress that set her apart. It was new, and vital to her plans for tonight.  Deep red and almost impossibly soft, it hung low on her body, revealing planes and curves she normally kept well-covered.  Queenie had altered it specially for her, and it fit as well as any piece of clothing could.

She wasn't usually much for getting so dolled up, generally content with a single dab of lipstick and perhaps some mascara for special occasions – short skirts and gobs of makeup were usually uncomfortable and impractical, and she didn't like feeling like she was on display.

Things were different tonight.  She wanted to be on display.  She was determined to make something happen tonight, for better or for worse.

Newt was leaving again in just under a month, and Tina knew she had a very limited window of opportunity in which to make her wishes a reality – and she planned to seize it.  The time had come to be bold, she'd decided – and her dress was certainly that, she thought dryly.

“Oh, Teenie!”  

Queenie was standing in the doorway, watching her admiringly.  “You're a knockout!”

Tina grinned, turning so her sister could get the full effect.  

Queenie giggled, shaking her head.  “Newt's gonna sink through the floor when he gets a loada you,” she whispered, looking absolutely thrilled at the thought.  Tina flashed her another smile, her confidence mounting as she gave herself another hard look in the mirror.  If ever she had a shot with Newt, it had to be tonight.  She couldn't remember a time she'd looked better.  If she could just keep up this bravado, she might, might, actually be able to initiate something – the key was to stay focused, to stay positive.  There could be no allowing herself to crawl into her shell tonight.  She had to think of it like a job – like being undercover.  She was playing a character, that was all.

Tina took a deep breath, steeling herself as she slipped on her shoes. Show time.

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

The wine was sour on her lips, as it always was.  Tina sighed, throwing another dejected glance around the hall.  

It was half past eight, over forty-five minutes after Newt was supposed to meet her at the gate, and instead of dancing or laughing or taking a walk along the grounds as she'd imagined they'd be doing about now, she was sitting alone in a corner, sipping clumsily at a glass of wine.  Typical.

Tina immediately felt guilty.  Newt probably had a very, very good reason for not showing up.  Perhaps one of his creatures had fallen ill again, or maybe he'd encountered some sort of trouble with the baby unicorn.  In fact, it might actually be a good idea for her to go and see if he needed help - maybe she was being the inconsiderate one, not thinking to check on him already.

Or maybe Newt had simply forgotten, Tina thought morosely.  She was hardly the type to get men's blood pumping; she knew this about herself.  She'd made an incredible effort tonight, but she supposed she'd been kidding herself, thinking it would make much difference.

Tina took another long sip of wine, finishing off the glass.

And yet – a quiet little voice interrupted, with an air of someone who refused to accept the obvious – Newt had kissed her.  Sort of.  Tina closed her eyes, retreating back to the memory of Newt's lips on hers.  It had been over so fast.  Had it been an accident? Did he regret it?  It was hard to tell; he'd been as courteous as ever, but he also hadn't done anything to suggest what had happened. She knew it probably hadn't been intentional – he'd been kissing her cheek, and then brushed her lips - just barely, and just for a moment.  But it had been haunting her for over a week now.

Tina sighed, accepting a passing house-elf's offer of a refill.  It was her fourth, she was pretty sure, and she probably ought to slow down, but it was the only thing keeping her misery at bay.  The alcohol buzzed pleasantly in her system, making the world seem just a little bit brighter.

“Excuse me. Miss Goldstein?”

Tina glanced up, her eyes glassy.  A rather handsome member of the MLE was standing before her, looking charmingly nervous as he surveyed her. Dennis D'angelo, she remembered.  She didn't know him well – he'd been three or four years above her in school – but she'd consulted with him on a few cases, and he always smiled at her in the hall.

“Denny. Nice to see you again,” she said, offering him a polite smile. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Oh, you know.  Beats pushin' paperwork,” he said lightly, hovering beside the table.  “What about you?  Havin' a good time?”

Tina shrugged, doing her best to not look too miserable.  It must have worked, because Denny grinned at her.  “Say Tina, you know this one?”

Tina hesitated for a moment, slightly confused.  “One what?”

Denny blushed, tipping his head toward the dance floor.  “This song.  I thought you might wanna...”

“...Oh.” Tina paused, biting her lip.  Denny was a nice guy, and it must be pushing nine by now.  If Newt really wasn't coming – and it seemed like he wasn't – she might as well try to take her mind off things. She was certainly in no hurry to go home and face Queenie, and sitting alone in the corner drinking her way through a barrel of wine wasn't doing her any good.  She mustered a smile, allowing him to help her to her feet.  “Sure, Denny, that's sweet of you.”

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

“Atta girl, Tina.  You're doing great!”

Tina chuckled, shaking her head.  Denny was being polite – she knew the steps well enough, thanks to Queenie, but her timing was off, and she was having trouble keeping her balance.  Her own fault, of course.

“You're quite the Oliver Twist yourself,” she said breathlessly, stumbling a bit as the song picked up speed.

Denny smiled, spinning her.  He was an excellent dancer, but she doubted Fred Astaire himself could have lifted her mood tonight.  She threw a glance toward the door, unable to help herself.

“Everything alright?”

“Hmm?”

Tina started, looking at him curiously.  

Denny smiled, looking a little sad.  “What's his name?”

“...Who?” she said quickly, a little too innocently.

Denny's eyes were understanding.  “Tina, you musta looked at that door ten times since we got out here.”

Tina paused, her heart sinking.  Denny shook his head, still smiling. “Don't feel bad.  I'm glad you've got somebody.”

She looked away, biting back a wry smile.  “The problem is, it seems I don't.”

“He late?”

“Only by about an hour.”

Denny winced, looking sympathetic.  “Something probably came up.  And if not, give 'im the axe, and don't give it another thought.  You can do better.”

Tina managed a feeble laugh.  “Thanks.”

Denny squeezed her hand.  “I'm sure he'll have a good excuse.  A fella'd have to be a real sap, to toss aside a dame like you.”  Denny paused.  “This guy nice to you?  When he's not skipping out on dates, I mean?”

“He's a doll,” Tina assured him.  Her voice was quiet; she thought she could feel a headache coming on.  “He brought me to Atlantisity for my birthday.”

“See? That's pretty snazzy,” Denny agreed, looking impressed.

Tina smirked, lost in memories of the past weekend.  “...and he gave me a unicorn,” she added, as casually as she could manage.

Denny's eyes widened, and they both chuckled.  “Well, ah.  I can't say I'd be able to compete with that.” He shook his head, his voice growing gentler.  “Seriously, Goldstein.  I'm sure you twos'll work it out.”

The song was beginning to wind down; about time, too.  She was starting to feel a little sick from all the bouncing around.

“I hope your fella shows up soon,” Denny added, leading her back to the banquet area.  “And if not, and you get lonely, you come and find me, you hear?  Just 'cuz your guy got held up, ain't no reason you gotta be sittin' all alone, unless you really wanna.”

Tina smiled, her first real smile in almost an hour.  “Thanks,” she said gratefully, squeezing his hand.  Denny winked at her, heading back in the direction he'd approached from, and Tina continued on, already looking forward to finishing her drink.

She paused, coming to a halt.  She'd just spotted a very familiar face, gazing at her from among the crowd.

[handstitchedcircuitboards]

Okay, I am totally digging your idea of the shimada dragons being eldritch horrors. How do they work besides being total agents of destruction? Can they converse with their hosts? Do they feel affection for them? Pls tell me ur headcanons. And hanzo having two dragons, oh boy. Is this still sticking with canon or is it veering off to au territory where the clan uses hanzo as a weapon? If we stick w/ the original timeline, obvs hanzo is still alive and kicking. But hes already nearing forty...

HELLO MY NEW FAVORITE PERSON PULL UPA CHAIR. YOU’RE LOOKING LOVELY, WOULD YOU LIKE  A DRINK?

So, I tried to explain some of thisin a fic about Genji getting his dragon, but it’s not done because it’s beingsuper uncooperative. Imagine that, Genji being uncooperative. Anyway.

The whole exercise was essentiallyme and my friend trying to figure out how the fuck blizzard gets off havingliteral magic dragons in their (admittedly al-dente) sci-fi universe, and yeah,I’m trying to make it not directly conflict with canon or the current timeline.Luckily canon is pretty vague about a lot, so I have a big sandbox to play in.If it becomes explicit lore that they’re literally magic, I invite Chu orKaplan to fight me behind the nearest Denny’s. I’m pretty sure I can take them, what I lack in height I make up for in sheer rage.

So, I looked at the dragons, andbeing a terrible person who loves sad things, my first thought was “Those definitelygive you cancer. That’s some high energy bullshit. These Shimada guys are turbofucked.” Next question, what the fuck do weird glowing cancer snakes care abouta random subset of the Japanese population? Well there’s something, probablygenetic because it’s only just them, about them that’s of interest, there hasto be. 

Enter, two of my favorite things,multiverse and aliens! This shows up a little bit in the Hellboy comics, Tanis, and The City at the End of Time(which should have been so much better than it was). Also, uh, cough, a fandomthat I spent waaay to much time in despite the many, many problems. Anyway, ifthe dragons aren’t from this universe and need some kind of conduit to comehere for Dragon Reasons, then the Shimada clan could be that conduit. Eitherit’s something about their genetics or something about the place they’re allliving, but something about these people made them more attuned to whateverwavelength the dragons are on. So I think the Shimadas themselves representthin spots between their universe and ours, with the Well being the crossoverpoint where it’s easier for the dragon and the host to entangle, and the entanglementlasts until the host dies. (Sidebar: That all grew out of the antenna model forontological dualism) (Sidebar: I think they’re only dragons because the ancientShimadas expected dragons so that’s what they got. They could be anything, and theyinhabit more than just 3-space. This is kind of the vibe I’m thinking of. If they’d shown up in medieval europe, they’d probably look like angels or saints.) It seemed weird to me that they’re just hereto kill. They could be eating people, or some facet of people (heat, electricalimpulses in the nervous system, etc.) but that seems super inefficient. There’senergy everywhere here, once the meat people let you in, why would you let thembe your gatekeepers? But that got me thinking, what if they’re here to getsomething and the Shimadas are acting as an antenna or foothold for them? Is theirkilling for the Shimadas more of a side effect? If they do need the Shimadas tobe alive, then it makes sense they would protect them.

Circling back to multiverse for amoment, what if their universe is dying, undergoing its heat death?  They seem to be beings made of energy, atleast partially, (pulling from CatEoT, there were beings there whose minds transcendedmaterial form and were fucked whenthe heat death began.) Point of interest, there are supervoids in our universethat just seems weird. Fun fact, Earthis in the largest supervoid known to science, the KBC Void. What if the dragonsare actually here to strip mine energy and entropy and take it back to theiruniverse to keep it alive longer? A heat death is just the end of alldifference in energy levels, so if they’re stealing more energy from here tomaintain differentials to keep going, that would be a reason for them to behere that isn’t a weird crush on the Shimada clan.

Okay, but, uh, they’re killing thehosts. They give them cell-degrading radiation exposure when they manifest, becausethe Shimada doing the summoning is at ground zero for a second, roasting alive.Well, I don’t think the dragons actually grok that point! They’re beings madeof energy, and I think they mostly view the Shimadas as a web of heat and electricalimpulse and chemical activity, but I think very few of them understand them asconscious creatures because the way they think is so divergent. It’s like wonderingif your car has feelings. It’s real damn complicated, but is it thatcomplicated? Maybe, but probably not. So, like when your car squeals and you dosomething to fix it, that’s kind of like what the dragons are doing when themantra is repeated. But in using your car, you are damaging it through wear andtear, and that’s what the dragons are doing through repeated summoning. TheShimadas understand this as a kind of tit-for-tat, obviously the spirits wouldwant something so their lives must be it. And if this all started in prehistory youcan’t really blame them, when the conceptual framework for talking about the multiverse scientifically is so recent.

I don’t think they communicatelike humans do, through body language, touch, and vibrating the air withspecialized organs. I think they communicate feeling and intent more directly, probablywith energetic impulses. So, the mantras that the Shimadas recite (which varyfrom person to person) act as a sort of trigger or alert. Thinking about specific thingsexcites parts of the brain in a specific way, and there is some low levelelectric current involved. If the dragons learn to recognize that, kind of inthe way we recognize our phones have low battery because the meter changes,then they manifest and attack to protect their host. If the host dies theylose their foothold in this universe, so they do what they can to keep them alive.I don’t think the Shimadas grok that this is a side effect, I think theygenuinely believe them to be spirits. (My understanding is that a thought likethat wouldn’t be out of line with Shinto. A very devout Christian would believein angelic interference, for instance.) I do think the dragons recognize otherhosts, and try not to attack them generally if they’re in the line of fire, andthat the dragons, after a while, learn to pick out what their host thinks of asfoes. So, Genji’s dragon wouldn’t attack a friend (let’s say McCree is standingbeside him, providing covering fire) because it’s learned that the kind ofattention Genji is paying McCree is good attention, but will attack the guyjust as close trying to stab Genji, because that’s bad attention. It does takea while for that to set in, and some dragons are less discerning than others.

They can, however, learn to ‘talk’.They mostly just don’t bother. It’s a pain exciting the aural nerves in theright way, learning what the right way is, and they usually misinterpretfeelings when shared directly and dump a bunch of cortisol and freak out. Imaginetrying to learn to talk to your cat. (Spoilers for a fic I may never finish, Ithink Genji’s does talk to him. I think Genji has a very close relationshipwith his dragon, and that is basically unheard of. He’s a natural adorcist andlearned more from his dragon that the clan had in hundreds of years. Genji’sdragon is enamored with him, and Genji with her. It’s part of why he’s stillalive, she shielded him from a lot of the damage Hanzo’s dragons would havedone and shunted a lot energy away from his vitals because she learned from himwhat to protect. Genji would probably have just been burnt to a crisp if she’donly been on the offensive. She also helps soothe some of the phantom pain bypulling strings in his nervous system.)

(Okay, this section is pretty dark.)

Hanzo’s dragons think there’ssomething wrong with him. He keeps hunting down other hosts, making it harderto do their work, and keeps getting damaged. I don’t think Hanzo thinks hedeserves to do the honorable thing and kill himself directly, but I do thinkonce or twice he’s thrown down his weapons to let someone kill him, right afterGenji. His dragons won’t let it happen, they come on their own and attackeverything around him. They do not trust his judgement, and they’re harder forhim to summon and sometimes come when he doesn’t want. They don’t understandthe family politics that when into attacking Genji and then attacking the others,they think he’s just a malfunctioning machine they have to put up with.

(Uh, that’s over)

So, with two dragons, I do think theclan wanted him to be their weapon. I think, in the lull after the Crisis,there had been a kind of status quo with the various yakuza clans and Sojirowas content to maintain it. Others, now that they had a WMD in their pockets, wantedto expand territory and influence. Sojiro was like “HARD FUCKING PASS” and as long as he wasalive, he prevented Hanzo from going on more assassinations than necessary, and kepthim to more administrative things, even if that meant doing more work withdragons himself and dying faster. (Sidebar, I think the assassination thing iskind of a secret. Only people in the know would ask, and they don’t take money,they take favors. Money can be tracked. Favors can’t. Only the family is involved at any stage of planning orexecution. The client families and client organizations and random mooks haveno idea, because the rest of the clan’s business is grey market brokering or smuggling.) That’s also part of the reason the elders were so adamant Genji getin line, because if Hanzo died young they needed him to take charge. Sojirokind of let Genji be a useless fuckboy because it would keep Hanzo safer if hewas the only viable heir. It broke his heart to do it, because it ruined hisrelationship with Hanzo and the brothers’ relationship with each other, but hewasn’t going to bury Hanzo. Hanzo never puts it together, he thinks his dadjust liked Genji better and he wasn’t a good enough leader to bring him in line. Genji didn’t fuckingcare, because he was a spoiled brat, but kind of kens the truth in Nepal afterhaving to sit down and actually sort through his life and his choices.

So, because Hanzo has fuckeddirectly off, he’s done less damage to himself with the dragons than he wouldhave otherwise, but he’s still getting sick. (For a long time, it was a realworry of Genji’s that Hanzo would die before he could kill him. And then, whenGenji forgave him, that’d it’d be too late.) Nobody in the clan actually doesanything to fucking TREAT the cancer, because they think it’s part of somemagic bargain. The dragons do not fucking care if you get chemo, Genji knows asmuch. So, Hanzo’s bought himself some time by running away (and killing otherShimadas by being sneaky rather than dragon fights when he can, since hisdragons are flaky, per the dark paragraph.) If Genji can bring Hanzo to Dr.Ziegler, she can absolutely get it under control. (He’s probably got someconcerning nodules, but not full blown malignant tumors in all of his him.) Hermethodologies could absolutely target and destroy cancerous cells and repair thedamage, if Hanzo will accept the treatment. So he’s not doomed, if he doesn’twant to be. (He’s trying to race liver failure and cancer on his own though, soGenji needs to get the lead out if he’s gonna put out this tire fire.)

I think I answered most of yourquestions? I love talking about this, so if you weren’t clear I’m happy toelaborate! Please forgive any spelling/grammar fuck ups, I wrote this all downkind of stream of consciousness.

[ramblingsrantsreviews]

Merry, Happy, Whatever Review (Netflix, 2019)

When I first saw the trailer for Netflix’s new sitcom Merry, Happy, Whatever I was so excited. It combined all my favorite things Christmas, sitcoms, and Ashley Tisdale together. What could be better?

The show, which was created by Tucker Cawley, follows the Quinn family as they get ready to spend the next 10 days celebrating a perfect holiday season in true Quinn family fashion. Of course, perfection and the holidays don’t exist and the Quinn’s quickly learn that family traditions can be hard to keep up when families are constantly evolving.

Don Quinn (played by Dennis Quaid) is the widowed, no-nonsense patriarch of the family. The most shocking thing about him is that he forms a crush on an emergency room nurse who happens to be black. It’s 2019 and interracial relationships shouldn’t be shocking but if you’ve watched the show you’d agree that it was a pretty surprising relationship to explore given Don’s conservative beliefs.

Don has four kids — 3 daughters and a son. Patsy (Siobham Murphy) is the eldest daughter who feels it is her responsibility to be the “mom” of the family since their own mother has passed away. That’s literally her whole purpose of being in the show and it gets old, fast. Kayla (Ashley Tisdale) is the middle daughter who learns her husband wants a divorce the moment they enter her childhood home. Sean (Hayes MacArthur) is Don’s only son who just so happens to be hiding a secret from his father — well, a secret or two. And then there is Emmy (Bridgit Mendler), Don’s youngest daughter and quite possibly his favorite child. Emmy has come back from LA to celebrate the holidays with her family and she’s brought along her struggling musician boyfriend Matt (Brent Morin) who Don is not too thrilled about.

In addition to the family, there are the two in-laws or “outlaws” as they call themselves, Todd (Adam Rose) who is married to Patsy and Joy (Elizabeth Ho) who is married to Sean. There are also a few grandkids in the mix rounding out the Quinn family.

With so many people together during a stressful time, chaos is bound to ensue and it sure does. Just like the Quinn’s rocky holiday celebration, Merry, Happy, Whatever faces a rollercoaster of good and bad episodes.

Without further ado, here’s Dani’s Desk review of Merry, Happy, Whatever.

Spoilers ahead.

Favorite Episode: Episode 4 – “Happy Mall-idays”

“Happy Mall-idays” is the episode that finally intrigued me enough to sit down and binge-watch the rest of the show. I was ready to give up after the first two episodes, the third was a little bit better but the fourth episode is where I finally started to connect with the characters.

The fourth episode follows the Quinns as they brace the holiday crowds at the mall to complete a multitude of tasks. Don is looking for the perfect gift for Nancy and enlists Sean to help him out. Emmy and Matt are faced with their first argument of the holiday season as they disagree on how to spend money. Meanwhile, Joy ends up crashing her car while trying to find parking space which means Patsy and Todd must wait in the Santa line until Joy can get the car situation under control. Oh, and then there’s Kayla who spends the entire time trying to hit on the cute barista she’s been secretly crushing on.

Pretty standard for a sitcom and yet, this is where the characters start to shine. I felt myself cringing along with Kayla as she tried to win over the barista who just thought she was interested in a job and not her. Matt and Emmy’s debate over how they spend money was relatable — especially when the conversation centered around how much was appropriate to spend on a Christmas gift. And I was really loving Joy’s heart-to-heart with the elderly woman whose car she hit until the woman said that. You’ll know what I mean when you watch it.

From episode 4 on it finally feels like we are apart of the Quinn family and not just some uninvited visitor.

Least Favorite Episode: Episode 1 – “Welcome Matt”

It’s a well-known fact in the television world that pilots usually aren’t that great. Merry, Happy, Whatever’s pilot episode is no exception to that fact. The episode is terrible and that’s putting it lightly. It’s a miracle I kept watching the show after that episode but I try to give every show at least 3 chances before calling it quits.

The plot of the episode goes like this: Don picks up his beloved daughter and her struggling musician boyfriend at the airport in his police cruiser. Matt hopes to make a good impression with the Quinn’s but his presence is quickly outshined when Kayla’s husband announces that he wants a divorce in front of the entire family. The writing staff was smart to include the standard “how could you do this in front of my entire family/everything we do is in front of your family” joke. From there chaos ensues as more secrets are revealed to certain characters setting up the promise of chaos to come.

The issue with “Welcome, Matt” is that it relies on sitcom gimmicks as a crutch. The plot isn’t fresh and neither are the characters who rely on sitcom troupes way too much. It’s a shame considering the premise of the show has so much potential and could really elevate Netflix’s original sitcom repertoire.

Favorite Character: Kayla Quinn

Kayla Quinn saved Merry, Happy, Whatever for me.

In the beginning, I was disappointed in Kayla’s character. Ashely Tisdale is such an amazing actress and it felt like she was playing a character I had already seen her portray (you can’t deny the Sharpey vibes). Thankfully, the third episode gives Kayla some depth when she confides in Matt about her feelings towards women.

Netflix isn’t a stranger to exploring LGBT character’s but Kayla’s revelation is really one of the first times I’ve seen a grown adult question their sexuality on television. We talk a lot about how important it is for younger generations to see themselves represented in media but it’s also important for older generations to see themselves represented as well. Kayla does that from them.

Here is a character who has been in a marriage that isn’t bringing either partner happiness but it’s what they’re “supposed” to do. When Kayla finds out her husband wants a divorce she’s sad at first but then she feels free. Free because she doesn’t have to hide behind a lie anymore — except, for the fact that her father is ultra-conservative and she’s not sure if he’ll accept her. Which, spoiler alert, he eventually does thank goodness.

So yeah, Kayla redeemed the show for me and she also has the plot that I was most invested in, making her my favorite character.

Least Favorite Character: Patsy Quinn

I physically groaned in annoyance every time Patsy was on the screen. Now that’s not to say Siobham Murphy’s performance was horrible because it was not (remember actors are not their characters), her character just had the worst plot and traits of the ensemble.

Patsy is a character reminiscent of the traditional “sitcom wife,” which, okay would have been fine except she wasn’t Don’s wife! It seems silly for the writers to decide to not have the wife/mom be alive and yet have this character do exactly what is expected of a wife/mom.

Listen, I get what the show was getting at. There is this perception that if a mother passes away the daughter should step into that role and help the family out. I’m not totally opposed to the show exploring that dynamic, however, it didn’t feel like a daughter stepping into her mother’s shoes. It felt like she was the damn mother and it was weird!

Patsy’s character is stereotypical and annoying when she could have been so much more. Underneath all that “sitcom wife” nonsense is a character who desperately wants to be a mother to her own children but is struggling to get pregnant. I would have loved to see the idea that Patsy mothered her siblings and father because she can’t mother her own children explored more. Instead, her role is there to provide laughs and be the kitchy sister.

If this show gets a second season I hope Patsy gets the justice she deserves.

Complaints:

One thing that struck me as interesting was the fact that the show never ventured into the world of politics despite its ability to do so. Yes, this is a holiday event sitcom that released on Thanksgiving in the hopes of bringing families together for co-viewing but then again, it’s family and holiday-themed and politics usually always find a way to be discussed. Instead, the show focuses its debates on sexist viewpoints (“are you the lady CEO of your job yet”) and religious differences (Catholic traditions vs Jewish traditions). It works for the contents of the show but it would have been interesting to see politics come into play somewhere. Let’s face it Don is a total Republican and Matt is not.

Speaking of Matt, though I did like his character, I couldn’t help but feel like he was a knock off version of Nick Miller from New Girl. I mean come on, Matt and Nick have a lot in common. They’re both dating women with successful careers, they both have no idea what they’re doing with their lives, and they’re both a little nerdy and awkward. Not to mention the actors kinda look similar. I would have liked to see Matt stand out more since he is the show’s main antagonist.

Another complaint of mine was how the show centered around this premise that Quinn’s follow tradition and that Don never breaks those traditions only to have him break these traditions three episodes in! And he doesn’t even feel guilty about it at first! It all just felt very out of place for me.

My biggest complaint comes from the pilot episode when Sean and Joy’s eldest son announces to his parents that he is an atheist. Now it’s not the announcement that bugged me, it’s the fact that they made it seem like the son was going to have his “coming out” talk with his parents and instead chose to divert from that to which the parents’ response was a sigh of relief. It seems odd and out of place for the show to laugh at or feel relief that this wasn’t a coming-out moment since the show eventually explores a true coming-out moment. I don’t know, I just hate when scary and heartfelt situations are played for laughs.

My one final complaint about Merry, Happy, Whatever is that it played it safe for a Netflix sitcom. Yes, multi-cams are more lighthearted than other forms of television but even Netflix’s One Day At A Time found a way to tackle heavy topics in a comedic way. Merry, Happy, Whatever felt very safe and very conservative. In fact, it could have aired on CBS and fit right in with their line up of multi-cam sitcoms.

Praise:

As I’ve said above, I love sitcoms and I love Christmas so the fact that Merry, Happy, Whatever is a combination of both is amazing. Do I wish it was better? Yes. Ultimately though, I did love the premise. I thought it was fun and had a lot of potential to be great and different. Netflix was wise in creating an event-based sitcom because it’s something that traditional broadcast sitcoms simply cannot do.

I did enjoy that we got to see Todd rival Don in a Jewish vs. Catholic tradition debate. Could it have gone deeper? Of course! But I think the way it was done was perfect for the tone of this show. I find that we often overlook other culture’s holiday’s because they aren’t popular with the masses and that’s not okay. I’m glad Todd got his point across to the Quinn’s. Hopefully, if we see the Quinn’s again during the winter holidays we get to see them explore Todd’s Hanukkah traditions.

By far my favorite thing about Merry, Happy, Whatever, was the bond between the “Outlaws.” It’s funny since I didn’t name any of them my favorite character but truthfully their scenes together were my favorite ones to watch. The idea of in-laws feeling unwelcomed and out-of-place isn’t something that’s talked about much and I liked that Merry, Happy, Whatever chose to go there. What I really loved though was that the outlaws bonded over their crazy extended family instead of choosing not to interact with one another. Watching Joy and Todd take Matt under their wing was heartfelt and hilarious. It’s definitely the highlight of the show for me and will be the reason this show stands out in my mind years from now.

Overall, Merry, Happy, Whatever ended up being cute and entertaining. It was a bumpy ride but it was certainly worth it if you love the holidays and quirky multi-cam sitcoms. Is it for everyone? Definitely not. But is a nice escape from your own holiday family drama.

It’ll be interesting to see if Netflix decides to pick the show up for another season and if it does, what the season will revolve around. The creator hopes the show can serve as a “potential anthology series with future seasons exploring other holidays,” hence the name Merry, Happy, Whatever. Only time will tell.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments below.

Merry, Happy, Whatever is streaming now on Netflix.

[kithalstead]

Life is What You Bake It

Jules bent over the counter, staring at the dense, speckled bricks in front of her, the little flecks of chocolate peeking out through the edges as if they were eyes staring back at her in betrayal. She tried to run a hand through her hair, then remembered that she’d secured it away in a top knot, and let her hands drop to the counter once more.

“Why?” she asked the muffins.

The muffins did not reply.

She picked one up to inspect it and peeled the paper away from its body, revealing its insides to the world. It didn’t even feel right in her hand, the weight off enough to be a bother. Muffins were, as she liked to describe them, the love child of cake and bread, as making cake was a similar process, except that muffins came out denser.

Not this dense, though.

She could use these to start a street game of hockey, or break Dennis Milton’s windshield again. She wasn’t that angry, though. Not yet, though. Still, she set her arm down against the counter and, with a single motion, sent the muffins on a journey. Their final flight landed with a dozen tiled thuds. She stared at the paper, decorated with snowflakes and Christmas bulb ornaments, wrapped tightly around each muffin.

It wasn’t satisfying the way she thought it would be.

She thought the violence would untie the knot at her throat, would free her somehow. It hadn’t, she just had made a mess. She chided herself. That was a waste. She didn’t know what she could have used them for, but it was childish to sweep away something she’d put effort into just because they hadn’t been perfect. They tasted fine, that wasn’t the problem at all.

She knelt down and loaded muffins into her arms one by one. The door that lead to their side yard opened, and her fiancé stood before her, arms full of groceries.

“Whatcha doin’?” Kirby asked, looking down at her.

“Mourning,” Jules answered, shaking the one muffin she had in her grasp up towards the heavens.

“That is certainly unfortunate, those look really good,” Kirby said, stepping around the muffins and her fiancé to get to the counter. Jules made a face at Kirby, and went back to cleaning up her mess, trying to see where she went wrong in each muffin as she picked them up.

Jules worked at an office Monday through Friday, 9 to 5, where she sold insurance and had for several years. It had started as a way to pay the bills after college, just something until she got enough money for her bakery to get off the ground. Instead, she’d used her savings to buy a small house on the nice end of their rural city, and then again to buy her girlfriend the nicest ring she could. After that, she’d put off starting her bakery, and decided to focus on saving up for the wedding.

At work, she had been trying to put a good foot forward all day every day for years, but instead she’d fallen flat on her face at every turn. Jules felt foolish, always trying to get ahead and then inevitably someone ended up being more impressive than her. It was becoming increasingly apparent that she was average at best, and everyone she met had better people skills, or better Powerpoint presentations, or their numbers were more impressive than hers. She had become standing water, growing bacteria and disease with every promotion that passed her by.

Kirby told her to keep her head up, that she would get recognized someday soon. She was running out of patience.

“Jules, can you come here?” her manager called from his office. She caught her neighbor, Martin’s eye as she stood, and he made a face at her. Whenever the office grew too stuffy or the manager yelled too loudly, Martin would raise his eyebrows as high as they go, then pull his chin and mouth down, and suck in his cheeks. Jules wasn’t sure what about it made her laugh, but it did every time. Martin was older than her, not by much but enough that it was noticeable, but he had settled into his position with pride and contentment. When they had met years ago, Martin had had dreams and plans, and slowly, he had fallen into the same rut she had. He was content, though, and she was walking towards their manager, hoping he might take this burden away somehow.

“Jules, please, sit. Have a seat. Shut the door, please.”

His office was neat, in the sense that it was always orderly. He had his computer screen set off to the far left and facing him at an angle, so he could always see the person on the other side of the desk, with his cup of coffee set on the same colorless coaster a few inches to the side of that. Then he had his name plaque, gleaming brass engraved in all caps reading STEPHEN STEPNESKI, set in the exact center facing away from him like a greeting to the visitor unlucky enough to visit him. On the other side of that sat a pencil cup that never held any more or less than 3 pens (two black, one blue, gel, clickable, generic brand) and 3 pencils (Ticonderoga, #2, sharpened), then his phone faced him at an angle as well. It was always kept this way.

Jules remembered the day that someone had tried to rearrange his desk as a cutesy office prank. She no longer remembered the name of that someone, as they had been put in the office’s darkest, dreariest, and draftiest corner until they’d quit two weeks later. You didn’t fuck with Stepneski’s desk.

Stepneski himself was an average man; he dressed in the same dark blue or dark grey suits every day, got a cheap haircut regularly, and never tried a different style of facial hair. He liked his salt and pepper goatee trimmed neatly, and he liked it even better when no one noticed. He sat at his desk every day, did his work, packed up his suitcase at 4:45, and was gone before 5. Jules admired that in a boss. If she decided to slip out early, he never knew.

“Julianne,” he started.

“Please, I’ve asked you to call me Jules. I don’t go by Julianne.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, but continued, “do you know why you’re in here?”

“I don’t,” she said. His stare was level, and never wavering. The first few meetings she’d had with Stepneski had always left an unsavory taste in her mouth, and daydreams about him truly being a construct formed out of clay and brought to life with alchemy and luck. “Although I’m hoping you’ll tell me that corporate is finally selling insurance in space and they’ve picked me for the first mission.”

He didn’t react. He had to be a robot or something; it was only logical.

“No, unfortunately, we haven’t traveled to space yet.”

                                                            Jules had taken up baking completely by accident. When she was sixteen, her grandmother had died and left her a couple thousand dollars for college and a cookbook that she’d typed herself on an antique typewriter. It was called the Grey Family Recipe, and it housed every hand-me-down recipe that had been made and shared at any family function. Her grandmother had been collecting and documenting their lives through food since she was a girl, and when she died, she left it to Jules with a note that merely instructed her to keep collecting and also to keep creating. Except, Jules was really bad at cooking. She burned everything. She gave herself food poisoning. Her food was either burnt to an unrecognizable crisp or undercooked, without an in-between.

She had found, however, that she was good at baking. She could take her time; there wasn’t a time crunch with baking. She had time to measure out each ingredient and make sure everything was perfect. Also, she could dance around the kitchen while she waited for her brownies, or cake, or donuts to finish baking. She loved seeing what she could tweak to make something new. If you took two different banana muffin recipes, one made with chocolate, and swirl them together in the same muffin cup, you can create a new recipe. If you add in raspberries and peanut butter to a mix, you get peanut butter and jelly flavoring. It was simple, the kind of math that she understood. It was the kind of creation that made her feel warm, and not just from the sugar. Just creating, that’s what felt best to her.

Once she had started, she had fallen in love with it so quickly.

Whenever she felt sad, she’d head into the kitchen, and she’d open the Grey Family Recipe and make whatever was next in line. They weren’t all winners, and she sometimes had to fix the recipes to make them palatable. Honestly, she had to fix most of them, but adding in her own notes alongside her grandmother’s, it made her feel content even on the worst days.

Jules fell in love with Jennifer Kirby quite by accident. She had been in a relationship with the boy next door, Tyler, who she had known since she was in diapers when she met Kirby. Tyler had insisted on taking Jules to the movies for her birthday, even though there wasn’t a movie that she wanted to see, and she had wanted a night with her friends, and while they had been walking past Kirby’s friends, Kirby had accidentally punched Jules in the face while gesticulating wildly.

Tyler had tried to “defend” her honor, which apparently included trying to fight a girl who was a foot shorter than him and a security guard who was a foot taller than him, and gotten kicked out of the mall. Jules had decided to stay because Kirby, as she introduced herself, had eyes that reminded her of home, made of mahogany steadiness and comfort. It had been an accident, cheating on Tyler for the first time, and then it was on purpose, repeatedly. Just kissing Kirby in a dark bedroom at a party had thrilled her, and the first time they’d had sex, in the bathroom a few minutes before Tyler was due home, had been the best orgasm that Jules had ever had.

She kept Kirby away from her family, because they were mean and spiteful. They were unkind to anything different, and bringing home a woman when she had promised them a man, well, that would destroy them. In turn, she’s sure they would have destroyed her.

Like with baking, she could take her time with Kirby, even when they were rushed. She could make sure that everything with Kirby was perfect, and she understood it. She understood this math. She knew what made Kirby tick, down to which knock-knock jokes made her laugh and which spot on her ribs tickled rather than turned her on.

Once she had started to get to know Kirby, she had fallen in love with her so quickly.

They moved in together a month following Tyler finally moving out, followed immediately by the destruction of Jules’ family ties, and they lived happily ever after.

                                                           “Listen, Jules, you’ve been an asset to this company for several years now,” Stepneski said, his eyes unwavering. She stared across his pristine desk, because she could map exactly where this conversation was going. “You’ve been a good worker, and a valuable member of our team. Unfortunately—”

We will have to let you go.

“We will have to let you go. This is purely based on performance and budget, and is in no way a reflection of you as a person.”

He said it so impersonally, but Jules found that she actually didn’t mind that.

She stood up, mid-sentence, and stuck her hand out.

“Thank you. Thank you very much, Steppy. I’ll clear out my desk. Thank you.”

                                                            She got home early, way before she was supposed to, so she cleaned up the house since Kirby had been asking, and then started baking. She decided to make her favorite chocolate chip muffins, which were soft, fluffy, and filled in all the cracks of her soul normally. She made this recipe when it got cold, or when she fought with Kirby, or whenever she felt down. It started with creaming the butter and sugar together, and ended with this disaster.

“What happened?” Kirby asked, sitting at the bar and flipping through their bills.

“I got fired.”

“Oh, baby,” she said, and she started to stand.

“No, it’s good,” Jules said, cutting her off. “I want to try new things. And, with the extra money, we’ll be set for the rest of the wedding finally.”

“Extra money?”

“Yeah, so, they fired me. There’s a severance package, and my bonus for the fiscal quarter is coming in next week, and my last paycheck will pay the mortgage this month, so that’ll be some stress off of us. We’ll be fine until I can find another job. I was never really passionate about insurance anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but we’re already here. We’re just gonna have to keep moving forward with what we’ve got.”

“I think that’s a little starry-eyed, and optimistic.”

“There’s nothing else I can do at this point except look forward, Kirbs.”

They got married on a warm spring afternoon surrounded by their friends. They adopted a cat, Boba Fett, and a corn snake, Hedwig, and Jules still hadn’t found a job. There wasn’t anything forward. She sat at home, and baked while Boba rubbed against her ankles and Hedwig curled lazily around her neck.

She made the same muffin recipe over and over.

And over.

There was only so many times she should’ve made it, but she kept making it. She kept trying.

They always turned out the same, as thick, dense blocks flavored with chocolate chips. She wasn’t sure what she was doing wrong. She kept looking forward, though. She kept thinking positively, because she was married. Because she was with the girl she loved. Because she had left the safety of the boy next door, and the comfort of the love of her family. Because she was supposed to be happy, and something had stalled inside of her.

This was her dream life, and she wasn’t happy.

She kept baking with the hope that she’d make them right this time. Except, she kept trying because what else did she have at this point? The Grey family had left her with their recipe but not their love or their acceptance. Her steady job, the fallback of her fallback, had fallen through. She had given up so much, and the bakery was unformed on the horizon.

Jules threw away another bunch of brick muffins just as Kirby came through the front door.

“Another one, babe?” she asked.

She started again without answering from the beginning in a clean bowl. She started by whipping together butter, vegetable oil, and sugar, then poured in more vegetable oil to mix in. One at a time, she mixed in the eggs, and the vanilla.

“Jules?”

Separately, she mixed milk and sour cream together in a measuring cup. Then, finally, she whisked together quickly the flour with equal parts baking powder and baking-

“Wait, no.”

She pulled out the Grey Family Recipe until she found the recipe and laughed. She tipped back her head and laughed. She’d spent months on this one recipe, and she’d been adding too much leavening.

It seems counterintuitive but adding too much leavening to a cake will cause the gas to expand too much and the cake will fall. In similar ways, when you put too much pressure and positivity in a person, they’re bound to fall in on themselves.

She laughed, and laughed, and Kirby looked at her like she was crazy.

“Too much baking soda. This entire time, too much baking soda.”

“You’re adorable, and I love you, but you’re insane.”

Jules set aside her ingredients and leaned onto the counter.

“I want to open the bakery, and I need your help to do it.”

Kirby smiled and leaned towards her wife for a kiss.

“I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, even through your baking soda ruts.”

[kansascityhappenings]

Hamlin wins at Bristol to spoil DiBenedetto’s upset bid

BRISTOL, Tenn. — The winner climbed from his car and immediately apologized for denying an underdog his first career victory. The runner-up, in tears over his near miss, was raucously embraced by the crowd for his oh-so-close effort.

Bristol Motor Speedway was a bizarre mix of emotions Saturday night after Denny Hamlin chased down Matt DiBenedetto to spoil a Saturday night upset. DiBenedetto learned this week that Leavine Family Racing won’t bring him back for a second season, and he has no job lined up for 2020.

“I’m so sorry to Matt DiBenedetto, (crew chief) Mike Wheeler. I hate it. I know what a win would mean to that team,” Hamlin said as soon as he exited his car. “But I’ve got to give 110 percent.”

Hamlin was the first Toyota and Joe Gibbs Racing driver to start from the pole this season but his race was a roller-coaster that began when his car was damaged when he bounced off of Jimmie Johnson. He later had a loose wheel, fell down a lap and seemed out of contention for his second career victory at Bristol.

At the same time, DiBenedetto was working his way toward the front and put his Toyota out front for a race-high 93 laps. He needed redemption — and a win would have put him in the playoffs, no less — but he again wound up victim to the Gibbs juggernaut. Gibbs has a logjam of talent, Leavine is a Gibbs partner, and Gibbs needs DiBenedetto’s seat next year to promote Christopher Bell from the Xfinity Series.

“I wanted it to bad,” DiBenedetto said. “I’m sad. Congrats to Denny, raced hard and I’ve been a fan of his since I was a kid. To be racing door-to-door with him at Bristol in front of a great group of fans — I’m trying not to get emotional but it’s been a tough week and I just want to stick around and want to keep doing this for a long time to come. I am not done yet. Something is going to happen.”

The crowd roared its support as DiBenedetto’s interview was broadcast on the infield big screen.

Roughly 45 minutes later, DiBenedetto found Hamlin on the NBC Sports set and interrupted his interview. The two hugged, and Hamlin pulled DiBenedetto close and whispered into his ear for a long moment.

He remained apologetic for spoiling what would have been a defining moment for DiBenedetto, as well as Wheeler, Hamlin’s former crew chief.

“It is the worst person possible to have to pass with eight to go. My history with Mike Wheeler … Matt is a fantastic driver,” Hamlin said. “I have no doubt he’s going to land on his feet, something better, and if he doesn’t, all you car owners are idiots. Someone with that much talent deserves to be racing for wins on a regular basis.”

Hamlin and DiBenedetto raced side by side for several laps before Hamlin completed the decisive late pass and sealed his fourth victory of the season.

DiBenedetto was a career-best second.

Hamlin got over his initial disappointment for DiBenedetto and praised his No. 11 team for its resilient race and the way he picked his way through traffic to reclaim the lead.

“Between my spotter and the crew chief, just stayed on me to not get anxious, just kind of take my time. I had plenty of time,” Hamlin said. “I just worked him over, worked him over. I knew I didn’t want to show him the bottom (lane) until I knew I could make the pass. I ran the top, ran the top, ran the top, got the position on the bottom and finished it.

“We had a great car that could move around. Came back from a couple laps down and here we are.”

DiBenedetto’s fight to hang on to the victory was hampered when he encountered Ryan Newman, a driver trying to make the playoffs. Newman refused to give an inch as DiBenedetto tried to put him down a lap, and contact between the two cars caused DiBenedetto’s Toyota to tighten up as Hamlin closed the gap.

A DiBenedetto victory would have dramatically changed the playoff picture. There are two races remaining to set the 16-driver field and only nine drivers have locked in their spots. With seven open, a first-time winner would have grabbed a coveted spot.

Johnson has never missed the playoffs since the format began in 2004 but the seven-time champion dropped to 18th in points after a disappointing night at Bristol. Clint Bowyer also dropped out of the top-16, but is only two points behind the final slot, now held by teammate Daniel Suarez.

THE REST OF THE FIELD: Brad Keselowski finished third in a Ford, and was followed by Gibbs driver Kyle Busch, who came from 31st to finish fourth. He received thunderous boos during driver introductions, but the eight-time Bristol winner simply guzzled something from a red plastic cup and thanked the fans for coming.

Chase Elliott was fifth and the highest-finishing Chevrolet. Kyle Larson was sixth, followed by Bowyer and Suarez, who moved ahead of Bowyer in the standings via stage points. Kurt Busch and Ryan Blaney rounded out the top 10.

UP NEXT: The Cup Series is off next weekend and returns to competition Sept. 1 at Darlington Raceway. NBC Sports expects Dale Earnhardt Jr. back in the booth for that event after he skipped Bristol following a crash landing of his airplane Thursday near the track.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/08/18/hamlin-wins-at-bristol-to-spoil-dibenedettos-upset-bid/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/08/18/hamlin-wins-at-bristol-to-spoil-dibenedettos-upset-bid/

[bigbrotherorre]

FINAL EPISODE: “DENNIS IS SUCH A KING” - ALI THE REST OF THE GAME.

WEEK 13 

if someone who doesn't love me wins this week then bye bye ashvika 

annoyed that sammy nominated me because i kept him safe last week whereas i could have just as easily flipped to keeping alivia and he could've left...but more than that, i'm annoyed at his speech. i dont think he should've used "you nommed me" as an excuse bc that's lame and he was the first to nom me and i nommed him back so we were even, and then i let him have veto pick when he was nommed and i made sure he got taken off. also conversation is a two way street and i dont see him trying to make a conversation with me either, he could have just said the real reason....i love hearing about how good of a player he thinks i am.... the worst case scenario is if bryce or zeezo win, i think even if the noms stay the same that i have a good chance of staying? granted that autumn and ali don't decide to turn on me and evict me 

why is bryce spreading lies :( i didn't tell ali to nominate sammy.... 

ive made a lot of mistakes this game and there all coming at me now.. my position in the game is terrible and i can blame it on ppl playing not to their win condition or on just the wrong ppl winning comps at the wrong time, but ultimately i could have tried harder convincing ppl to see the light or to do better in challenges so ultimately its on me. feeling really hopeless this week even tho i avoided being a preveto nom i think ill be a post one if literally anyone but me wins veto. and i flopped veto (cwl). i cant wait for after the game for ali to admit that he did tell me that ashvika pushed for sammy to be nommed. order in which id vote ppl zeezo- always worked with me and if she makes it to the end she truly DID THAT ashvika- really took control of the game with her hoh win and after jose left smartly picked up the goats and became the biggest threat randy- a king love us working with/against each other throughout the game and even tho he was voted out im not one to discredit buyback winners autumn- never spoke to me but guess she didnt need to KASDHFK ali- fakest person ive ever met dennis- knows how to get to f2 at least sammy- ignores obvious facts and always makes the wrong move  but good at comps so wooh (me teas too tho...)

somehow i didnt get nommed but like so sad what the heck zeezo is going home like why is everyone so jealous that shes prettier and funnier than them :( why cant we all be her goats <3 i guess its good bc like i cant win with zeezo in the game and i can vote to keep her still, but honestly if i lose in f2 with zeezo itd still be fun bc she has had my back all game :] I AM SO SAD UGHHHH GOD HATES GAYS AND HES TAKING MY TWO WOC QUEENS BACK TO BACK. Now i have ashvika who is a queen but not my queen!! And autumn yikes hates me always :(

SORRY IVE BEEN GONE!!! I did one video confessional for Week 11 and just like never posted it lmao but I will haha and that's all behind me. But anyway I just have so many feelings. Live  night is about to begin, me and Zeezo's war is finally concluding, IM STILL TRYING TO GET MY FIRST COMP WIN, and I'm trying to protect my allies at all cost. Some cracked shit is about to go down and I'm so excited and so so glad I took a nap before this cause I'm ready for anything wooo

RANDY: WIN SAMMY: ... ALI: FAKEST PERSON IVE EVER MET MAYBE TALKS A BIG GAME AND SAYS HES SUPER NICE AND EMOTIONAL BUT SUDDENLY CAN TURN THAT OFF. HE WOULD BE A GOOD VILLAIN BUT HE ACTS NICE AND DOESNT OWN IT AND MAYBE ITS JUST BC ITS SO SOON BUT I HOPE HE CHOKES AND HAS HAYFEVER FOREVER! WHAT EVEN IS HAYFEVER??? HORSE BOY AUTUMN: NEVER SPOKE TO ME BUT NICE DENNIS: FORGOT TO PUT SOMEONE ON THE LIST, KNEW HIS WAY TO F2 AND IF HE DOESNT TAKE CREDIT FOR THINGS ICON AND ID VOTE FOR HIM.

AFTER THE TRIPLE EVICTION...

OK BUT DAT TRIPLE DOE http://media2.giphy.com/media/xUA7aViRhBQPzXNAAM/giphy.gif It was dramatic, over the top, emotional, satisfying, show stopping, gut wrenching- literally everything you want out of a triple. I... don't feel bad for Breezo lmao, not after all the messiness they've caused. But doing Ashvika dirty is literally the hardest choice I've had to make in Orre. Sis I am so so sorry. I should've thrown you a vote but you know how Randy is and you really know how Dennis is. I just--- that was something I like wasn't prepared to ever do, break Ashvika's heart. But like in my beautiful dark twisted mind? It was perfect because I knew I couldn't go to the end w/ Ash but I was never going to nominate her. So here we are rip ALSO LAB AND BREEZO ALL SITTING IN JURY??? BIIIIIIITTTCCHHHHH https://media.giphy.com/media/zcAii7T9JXezS/source.gif If you're reading this, you know I sure did say I would wipe that whole group out and send them to jury and it really did come to pass. John sure did gas all of them up to win and I sure did tell him in my Week 10 goodbye message that they were all bout to walk in behind him. So in the spirit of prophesizing, let it be known that Auli aka Ali and I will make Final 3 because we are the strategic dynamic duo y'all slept on. Like correct me if I'm wrong: we've been on the right side of all 8 "merge" votes (there's no word for like opposite of pre-jury lmao), we ain't been on block since Week 6/7 and it's now Week 14, and we've downplayed our iconicism left and right so we're the last duo standing at Final 5, and no one wants to take a shot at us. BUT YALL STILL SLEEP CAUSE THE MIST IS THAT STRONG. That's ok though! When Randy and Sammy walk into jury next y'all will see Also I'm  dead at how much jury hates Ali hahaha. Deadass he has to stay in the game for safety reasons. Like soooo many jurors wanna kill him. That's my ride or die though so I can't let that happen. Anyway I still feel like shit for obeying Randy, which hurt Ashvika, made Dennis cry, and further dragged Ali's corpse. But the good news is woooo it's Final 5 and these boys all want to take Auli to the end. So do I NEED to win this HOH? No not really. Am I still praying and pleading with God like I do before every comp? Absolutely https://media1.tenor.com/images/1a11748f0c7ce30ab4afd057fab66751/tenor.gif?itemid=5677211

Me when I shocked the nation and won HOH and finally had power in the house after 13 weeks https://78.media.tumblr.com/2a8c6d7cc298da364a847f8f9d767c7c/tumblr_opiih6Z7tB1ub3fcfo1_500.gif Me then using said power to target my baby Randy for the greater good https://media.giphy.com/media/hic9t15zsdwfC/giphy.gif And now me that I'm selling my entire family, land, soul, and wig collection to get Dennis to keep me and kill Sammy so that I'm not Ika Wonged because I know for a fact Ali would take me to F2 and Dennis would be a dumbass not to take me too. AND I ALWAYS BELIEVED IF I WENT UP A FOURTH TIME THAT WOULD BE THE TIME I GO UP ON THE BLOCK AND DONT COME BACK DOWN SO FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DENNIS BE STRATEGIC AND KEEP ME https://i.pinimg.com/originals/23/53/9d/23539d4ab6c13adab50940426d73ed6e.gif

[AFTER F4 EVICTION]

WAIT WHAT HOW AM I ALIVE?? https://media.giphy.com/media/TZ388aYpsLMcM/giphy.gif AND HOW THE FUCK DID I MAKE FINAL 3??? https://yiaelxzosjw9p4bs-zippykid.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/happy-crying.gif Pray for me if I win Final HOH cause fun fact: I, the strategic legend, have no clue who to fucking take to the end and that's the biggest gag of the entire season BECAUSE I DIDN'T PLAN OUT THIS FAR GODDAMMIT AND I WISH I HAD. Ok that's not entirely true- I knew I should either sit next to Dennis or Ali because ya know contingency plans matter. BUT NOW??? Bitch ion know I just wanna win

CLICK HERE & HERE TO SEE DENNIS’ VIDEO DIARY ROOMS!

i've never seen a better reflection of the emotional rollercoaster that is my mental state than these two being filmed less than 12 hours apart jasldfa

CLICK HERE AND HERE TO SEE ALI’S VIDEO DIARY ROOMS!

okay i have lots of post finale thoughts but i need to type them up tomorrow. i just hope the jury knows how sorry I am if I ever upset them, because I love them all so much and would never want that :(

time for my post finale wrap up and.... whewie. This is so upsetting because, I just did this for all stars. Like it's looking like my track record is LITERALLY going to be 2nd 9th 2nd 2nd 2nd, I CANT COME 2ND AGAIN. I really can't take this. Here is the bigger problem though and this is why Orre will be my last game whether I win or not. I can't keep playing these games when I upset so many people. Like it honestly broke my heart yesterday hearing how much I upset people like Bryce & Ashvika, people I love SOOOOOOO much. I don't want to upset people. Like... what upset me about finale is I don't think the jurors realise that.... I didn't just upset people for the sake of it and ahhh. Honestly, I'm really upset, like not even that I'm coming second but that I upset people. So with that said, I really apologise to the jurors. I got the impression that I hurt you all so bad that you are giving me 2nd as like.... punishment? And while I hate that, if I hurt you all that bad I really owe you all an apology. Anywho, since this is definitely my last game, I've played 183 days worth of games to just come 2nd, and that's just too much. I'm too flawed of a person and player to continue playing these games and just keep coming 2nd. Like it just hurts. so yeah, i'm sad but mainly because this is deja vu. I'm so proud of Dennis for winning, he is such a sweet genuine guy and when he was complimenting me during the finale, it was the nicest thing I've ever heard and I'm so greatful. No matter my game or his, I'd be happy to see Dennis represent our season.

Can I just say... Dennis is such a king. What a kind-hearted, genuine guy. A true king.

CLICK HERE TO WATCH DENNIS’ VIDEO DIARY ROOM!

okay so I lost.... and I'm weirdly at peace with it. I know I answered the jury questions terribly and I had... some jurors that would never have it in them to vote for me and would actively campaign against me. Dennis is a king, and in a cast with toxicity and SUCH bitterness, I think he is a phenomenal representation for the season. Otherwise, I am really honoured to get Ashvika's vote, she is such a deserving POTS, and to get POTS' vote is always an honour. Autumn and Jose are amazing friends and I am so happy to have got to work with them, John is a player with SUCH potential and he is WINNING BOTS & Zeezo I'm really honoured to get her vote too! For the others, Bryce is a KING and so is Blake (they both seemed really upset by me so I hope we can be friends). Lynn I never spoke to and seems... very bitter about the season's result, but I hope she gets over it because she is also a QUEEN. Randy is a funny one and I'm starting to worry all his friend talk was just him playing into my emotional side, but he is a good egg really I know it. Sammy is a ghost king. I kinda want to end on Alivia. Alivia is a person whose personality is obviously very different to mine and the way she speaks to me and others really upsets me a lot of the time. However, her bitterness against me is understandable and I hope she gets over it, because she defines herself by anger and bitterness when she is such a funny and likable person and doesn't need to do that. but woo... to wrap stuff up, I'm so grateful for Nicholas & Julia for casting me, Owen & Emily for being amazing.... OH, I forgot what I wanted to say. Autumn is a queen, a legend and amazing. She is honestly soo soo amazing, like... someone I really admire and see as a rolemodel? she is inspirational, a queen and a legend. Dennis is the nicest, most well intentioned guy ever SO sweet and really just a genuinely nice guy. I have made lasting friendships with some members of this cast and I'm so happy. so yeah.... i'll probably do another one of these in like a day or so, but if not.... ali out woo

we love coming to jury and being told about my ""showmance""".... wanna die jadfkl. my only showmance was to snakery, my way of life. blake was robbed but also is a broccoli. last words? autumn and dennis are my faves, best F3 ever.

FINAL CAST ASSESSMENT