#and Duke simply because of a lack of screen time

[rickktish]

I’ve got a couple of hot takes and there’s nuance to them but I don’t have a whole lot of brain power so I might leave it as-is and elaborate only if asked:

-The kind of people who engage in fandom and specifically those who write fanfiction tend to belong to the same categories of people/sets of identities which are likely to fall victim to the “white people have no culture” lie and therefore like to spice up their writing by diversifying the cast in ways they view as meaningful or reflective of those characters’ personal arcs/histories, which unfortunately means leaning on a lot of stereotypes and accidentally perpetuating, consciously or unconsciously, those stereotypes. (Is anyone else bothered by the prevalence of latino Jason “drug crime lord” Todd headcanons? I don’t speak up about it often but it frequently feels legitimately uncomfy to me. Also while it’s fun to mess around with various flavors of Asian Tim “the smart Robin” Drake, there are some very uncomfortable discussions which ought to be had about why he gets headcanoned as east Asian specifically— usually Korean from what I’ve seen but also frequently Chinese and Japanese— when the fanon interpretation of his character can basically be boiled down to “good with computers, terrible/abusive/neglectful bio parents with unreasonably high standards/expectations, child genius.” Like maybe critically examine your tropes before applying them wholesale is what i’m saying)

-readheads are an unrecognized minority and have historically been and are still in some places presently subjected to the same kinds of stereotyping, discrimination, and fetishization that recognized racial minorities face. The only difference is that discrimination against poc has frequently been legally mandated throughout western history whereas that against redheads has been largely (though not exclusively) cultural. Think for a minute about how many redheaded characters have been replaced by black actors in live action adaptations in recent years and understand that redheads have been on-screen shorthand for “acceptable token diversity” for longer than probably any of us care to think about and they are losing that status as black characters begin to take that place in widespread visual media. Race swapping the Gordons specifically, while pulled off extremely well by a beautifully talented actor in The Batman 2022, is actively participating in the erasure of redheaded characters, especially ones whose roles are more complex than “femme fatale” or “the spitfire,” (or both), from screen

I'm not necessarily against race-swapping hcs and whatnot, but I do think the Bat-Family fandom has a tendency to ignore the actual POC members of the Bat-Family in favor for their hcs, lmfao.

Like I've seen Asian Tim and Babs hcs and I'm like... you do know Cass and Damian are literally right there, you don't have to do that. 😭

[chickenparm]

livestream (Wriothesley/gn!Reader)

AO3 Link

Wriothesley/gn!Reader (no pronouns, no descriptions) 1,284 Words - NSFW voyeurism, m!masturbation

---

No one really messes around with the cameras. 

Not for lack of functionality, but simply because they’re a hassle to use and a technology that most people just aren’t familiar with. But you’re familiar, and you’re about as nosy as a certain pink-haired journalist that still writes letters to you in the fortress asking if you’d like to take on a job at the Steambird in your spare time. 

You don’t write back, only because that is a hassle you’re not ready for. 

There’s a terminal near the bunk you’d claimed for your own, and after only a little bit of fiddling and a lot of brute force with a password, you make your way in. Not for nefarious purposes, but simply because you’re a bit bored. You paid coupons to get out of work this morning, and now you’ve realized there’s not much to keep you occupied beyond figuring out these cameras.

Glancing down the hall in the only direction someone could come from, you check that the coast is clear for the moment. Surely it’s against some kind of rule, even if the guards don’t even use these. But you’re close enough to the end of your sentence that you’re careful, just in case. 

The screen flickers to life as the terminal changes from red to teal, and with a little grin, you begin pressing the buttons to get a feel for the UI. One camera is above you, and you can see yourself from the back. The quality is actually pretty decent, and you wave your hands a few times to get a feel for the almost nonexistent delay. 

Then, you push the button that takes you to the next camera down the hall. Then one to the entrance of this wing, right above the head of the usual guard there. You can see out into the main atrium of the fortress now, and you move the camera back and forth, zooming in and out, just for fun.

You zoom in on something particular when it catches your eye - someone, actually. His Grace, the Duke, Lord Wriothesley, whatever title you’re supposed to call him. The guy has a million. You lean closer to the screen, absorbed in following him as he strides through the atrium toward his office, its large insignia gleaming above the door. 

Interesting. Maybe this could be good if you learn his schedule, figure out when he comes and goes so you can sneak an unabashed peek without getting caught by him. Then you can be as shameless as you like if you happen to stare for more than a full minute without blinking.

And then he’s gone, tucked away in his office and away from your admittedly pervasive sight. 

It’s a little less exciting to flip to the next camera now, seeing a different angle of the atrium. The next few are of the level below, and the handful after that are of various places in the production area. No one is working at your station, and you quietly murmur a little cheer at that - they won’t move the tools around in a weird way. 

Beginning to grow bored, you start to flip through them a little faster, seeing other areas you haven’t bothered to go to. Areas you probably shouldn’t be seeing since they seem to be in disuse, but you’re just looking. It’s not like you’re down there or anything. 

Flip, flip, flip. One after another, your eyes start to unfocus just as the camera feed goes from very dark to rather bright, showing a room that’s well-lit beyond what’s normal in the Fortress. Curiously, you zoom in, and you realize what you’re looking at - and almost click away. 

But then your boredom is gone, isn’t it? You’re suddenly interested, enraptured as you lean closer to the screen as if that will give you a better view of the Duke sitting at his desk, slouched in his chair, one hand holding a book while the other holds his-

You flip away, cheeks burning with warmth. No way did you just see that. It had to be a trick of the camera, a smudge, a glitch with the feed. You turn your back to the console and rub at your face to cool off, then turn back. Still, no one comes down the hallway, and your finger hovers over the button to go back. 

Just a look won’t hurt. Surely it can’t be that, and then you can get this out of your mind. 

Click. The feed switches, and your mouth falls open as you lean in, your nose nearly brushing the scratched glass of the screen. That’s no trick of the light, that’s the Duke lazily stroking his dick while he reads a book that you can’t make out. As if you were even looking at the fucking book in the first place when he’s in front of you fisting his cock. 

Why is this feed so nice? The quality is disgustingly good, enough that you can see the sheen on his tip from every bead of his pre cum that he squeezes out. Saliva pools on your tongue, and you swallow roughly to get yourself under some kind of control. It would be smart to just turn the camera off, to give him some privacy while he gets himself off. 

So why aren’t your hands moving? They’re curled around the edges of the screen as you brace yourself, nearly kissing the glass with your proximity. Shut the camera off. 

Wriothesley’s body flinches, nearly dropping his book as his head dips for a moment. His hand moves faster, twisting a little at the tip to give himself a different sort of friction. You could do that with just your tongue, you think. Not a single thing comes to mind that you’d rather do more. 

Your shoulders slump, elbows lowering to brace yourself, and you accidentally hit a button you hadn’t bothered with yet. As it clicks, a quiet sound comes through the speakers that nearly kills you. Wriothesley’s groan of pleasure at his own hand, his pace picking up and filling his office with a slick, wet sound. 

The line of his throat shifts, a swallow before another shuddering groan comes from the bottom of his chest. His adam’s apple is stark against his skin and you wonder what sort of sound he’d make if you were to drag your tongue across it, sink your teeth into it. God, you want to take a bite of him.

A shaking breath leaves you, followed by your quiet murmur of, “Holy fucking shit…”

And Wriothesley’s head snaps up, immediately looking at the camera, looking at you, and you shut the terminal down with a slam of your fist. Quick steps send you stumbling backward, your spine pressed taut against the metal wall as you put as much distance as you can between yourself and what you’d been doing. 

Of course, the sound goes both ways. You feel like an idiot - and a pervert, actually. You kind of already knew that last one, but at least you had a modicum of respect. This was just gross. You wonder if he’s already broken the camera that he might not have even known was there. A gross sort of inquisitiveness makes you want to power it back on to check, but you nearly slap yourself. 

One time you could pass off as an accident if he confronts you about it. Two times makes it on purpose. Well, it kind of was on purpose after a while there, but he doesn’t really need to know that. 

How many years gets added to a sentence for watching the warden jerk off, anyway?

[the-firebird69]

Few more things we have had enough of certain characters and they are bothersome and I put in for some relief and I want to run something that we used to they agreed and it's good

Hera

I only have some announcements and yeah we're going to run what she said. And we do understand it. We have several automobile manufacturers at our door because they said we took their factories they were using them and they were not using them and they're defaulting on their loans and we don't own the finance company but we are taking it because their lack of action is an act of war and they didn't like the answer they pounded on the door this morning for a long time and then it stopped. We're going to repeat the process.

---is a huge number of factories that we have to grab and we need a lot of troops and we need them now and we need people to sign on we are undermined and understaffed always and he's saying again he doesn't want to sound like John remillard and he's not and he says don't ever associate it when I'm ordering with him because I know it clearly a lot of people have personal lives and our people are doing jobs and holding and I think that it'll get ruined if they stop when they're simply not holding enough there's too many people and they're not doing the job and I'm going to insist that we look at that there's got to be a way of convincing them and he says you tell them what they have to know if you do not sign on you're going to be suspect and if you don't sign on you're going to be left here and Fry like a french fry we have ways of assisting people in the transition to keep their family and friends safe we don't even necessarily change your operation we just make it more or less full-time with 30 out of 40 hours instead of 10 and they will like that but that's what it is and he said to put it that way if it doesn't work we have to initialize so we have to do it and he says I want to be responsible because it's going to harm me if we don't do this and I learned it from you he said he's talking to me since time for me to shovel it over you and I am and I'm taking the responsibility I do see what you're saying it's not working when I can't even numbers it doesn't work that great and your ideas are going ahead I'm going to put it forward we have about a third of them we're cautious about you what you say is you actually have to do a complete throw vetting anyways and then it's ongoing but it really at first nobody's going to get through it so what's the deal and I understand that if they're not clean they won't and they always have issues but we know what they are and they're complicated but we do know how to figure it out all the time we've never lost anybody from screening we always have our people I don't even get going on this it's starting to be ridiculous and I do know what to say

Thor Freya

You're saying in a way and we've been repeating it but yeah we have to be more concise we have to show them the threat and it's intense and we have to make sure they know it and they hear it and they just don't get it what are you going to stop it with corky he can't even get in there without us and we mentioned it and told people why and how and he will not do the job we want he goes after our son all the time let's be clear and think straight and sign on

This job is great you get a lot more income you get things you want and things you need your children get an education and second to none for the future of our races and kind

Frank Castle hardcastle

We're moving out with this idea I want to go get it going it's terrific and I'm going to send it up and he says that will send it up and we'll get it going and we will get permission and do it with hours if they don't do initialize it with theirs and we'll do the testing and present the testing I'm going to go ahead now

Duke Nukem Blockbuster yeah limited conscription and I did it in the United States I don't know why I wouldn't work

We do hear him he had to do it

Olympus

[peppersonironi]

Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype Chapter 2

Next chapter for my Duke Thomas Big Bang fic is up!

(Once again, a hearty thank you to my betas @queerbutstillhereand @theycallme-ook)

Read On Ao3

It was four am on a Friday morning, a week after Duke had decided he’d had enough of Bruce’s - and the other’s - incorrect opinion of him.

It was so early in the morning, that the main group of bats had been trickling back from patrol over the past hour or so. Stephanie and Cassandra had arrived first, followed by Jason ten minutes later. Then Tim had gotten back from his route with Harper, and Kate and Bette had stopped by for a bit (but eventually left for their own homes). Dick came home next, and Bruce had returned last with Damian.

Everyone was in varying states of winding down, with Stephanie at one end of the spectrum wearing silk pajamas, a fluffy robe which Duke was sixty-seven percent sure was Bruce’s, and bright pink bunny slippers Duke was positive were Dick’s. On the other side, Bruce hadn’t even pulled off his cowl, and was sitting down in front of the Batcomputer to work on a case.

Though Duke thought that Tim deserved his own category, dressed in a strange combination of disco track suit and kevlar body armor, and was hunched over three cans of energy drinks and a quart jug filled with espresso shots.

Duke leaned down to double check that his boots were laced up - one time he hadn’t, and had then proceeded to trip and fall into a garbage pile. Not. Fun.

He looked up, however, when Bruce clicked open a case file. So did everyone else, as if drawn by some invisible force.

They all clearly saw as Bruce hovered his mouse over a link which had been typed in sometime while the big bat had been away. The only hint to what it could be was the note reading “New Evidence.”

Bruce grunted in what for anyone else would be an exclamation of curiosity and went to click the link.

Which clearly went to YouTube.

In unison, all the bats’ eyes widened in realization. You see, in a family such as this one, pranks abounded. So they all had painstakingly memorized that series of letters and numbers.

They all knew what it meant.

Suddenly, the Batcave lit up with the dancing form of one Rick Astley. It was everywhere. On the several large monitors that made up the Batcomputer. The various screens spread across the caves. Everyone’s phones somehow were affected. As well as the X-Ray machine in the med bay, which was showing a skeleton dancing.

Bruce jumped up, rage full on his face. “Who did this? Make it stop!”

No one answered, all too frozen in shock at what had happened.

“Who…” Dick whispered from beside Jason, “Who would be that brave?”

“Yeah,” Jason whispered back, “Rick Rolls were banned at the 2015 family reunion after you played it two hundred and thirteen times in a row.”

Dick grinned, “those were good times.”

The two eldest boys began to bicker, Jason complaining that Rick Rolls were a part of the war crimes banned by the Geneva Convention, and Dick saying he “liked it: so there.”

Meanwhile, the song was reaching the chorus, and the other bats finally began to react. The three girls were dancing on top of exercise equipment, popping bottles of sparkling cider - or was that champagne? For their own sakes, they should hope it’s the former - they had pulled out of what seemed to be thin air.

Damian was in the corner, trying to get Titus to dance to the music - though he glanced around every so often to make sure that no one was noticing his moment of fun.

Tim was still nursing his collection of drinks like an alcoholic nursed a bottle.

Bruce was practically foaming at the mouth by that point.

“This is NOT FUNNY!”

That, of course, made everyone just start laughing harder. In the corner, Steph started to do the macarena completely off-tempo from the music. Cass seemed to be chugging the cider that Harper was pouring into her mouth.

Just then the holographic training simulations lit up, and Rick Astly began making his way across the cave, dancing all the way.

Bruce glared up at the semi transparent form of the singer, as if trying to force him into submission.

“T-pose to assert dominance!” Jason called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Yeah, that’ll totally work, B! Trust us!” Dick called as well.

Bruce took a moment to turn his head and glare at the two former Robins, who only smiled like the angels they clearly thought they were.

The image was not aided by the two giant stuffed swordfish just pulled from Jason’s utility belt.

“En guarde!” He cried, and tossed the one in his left hand at Damian, who had been trying to reassure his dog that the giant man wasn’t real.

The thirteen year old screeched, but caught the four foot long fish by its fin.

“This is animal abuse!” He cried.

“It’s not abuse if it’s dead!” Jason countered, and attacked the youngest bat with a passion.

As the duel progressed, Cassandra tried to raise her hand and gurgle out a bet on who would win, but began to choke on the liquid.

Harper cursed as she tossed away the sixth bottle of cider and tried to give Cass the heimlich maneuver.

Dick, meanwhile, pressed a button on one of the many consoles spread around the cave, and several stripper poles came out of hidden storage via hydraulics. He grabbed the nearest one, and began to dance.

“I THOUGHT I DISABLED THOSE?!” Bruce bellowed, as Dick began a twirl.

Stephanie, however, didn’t seem nearly as dismayed at the sight of the poles. She herself smacked a button next to her, and several disco balls dropped down from among the stalactites to join the fun. She then began to morph her macarena into an epic macarena. A few flips here, and a few pantomiming choking your enemies there. And a whole lot of randomly throwing glitter bombs at, well, everywhere.

But especially at the nearest authority figure.

Damian tripped over a bucket during his fight - apparently left over from Alfred’s earlier cleaning spree - and the soapy liquid spilled across the floor.

But, of course, them being the bats, Alfred didn’t use normal soap.

Huge bubbles began to farm from the liquid, the longest almost three feet in diameter, and rise up to the cave’s ceiling. The suds spread around, eagerly began to mingle with Stephanie’s glitter.

A solitary bubble, relatively small, floated over to Bruce’s head, and popped on one of his cowl’s ears. He was not amused.

*****

Five minutes later, everyone was lined up next to the Batcomputer with heads bowed in either shame or disappointment.

Bruce walked up and down the row, the perfect imitation of a drill sergeant. His glare matched as well.

“This is an outrageous breach of protocol,” he was saying, “the Batcomputer is not a toy, nor something to use for your own amusement. It is a serious tool-”

“Then why’s it called the Batcomputer?”

Bruce froze and whirled on Dick, who had chosen that inopportune moment to speak up.

“Because you were nine years old and saying no to you would have gotten me a meltdown.”

“It seems to me, Bossman,” Stephanie began, tenting her fingers in an attempt to act serious (the effect was strange combined with her bathrobe and slippers) “That you are perfectly happy to let Dick get away with things. But in this situation, with women present, you are strangely cold. This shows blatant sexism on your part and in this essay I will-”

“That’s enough, Stephanie.” Bruce cut off as a round of snorts and giggle erupted from the group of bats.

“You do realise that no one here is going to speak, right?” Jason asked, “You did teach us to resist torture. And - pardon my french, Alfred - but you are no fucking way close to the level of torture I’ve gone through. Namely waking up to Batcow sitting on top of me.”

“Are you commenting on her weight?” Damian demanded, glaring daggers at Jason.

“I said no such thing.”

“ Boys .” Bruce demanded, rubbing his temples. “Jason is right - not about Batcow’s weight - but I’m not going to get any of you to talk willingly.” He paused and made eye contact with every single bat present, trying to reach into their souls.

“Therefore,” he continued slowly, “I’m giving you one last chance. Otherwise: No one gets cookies from Alfred for two months. ”

The shock was immediate. Alfred’s cookies, of all kinds, were worth more than gold in the Manor. The ability to not have them? And for two months? Bruce truly was a cruel hearted tyrant if he was willing to go to such lengths.

Duke gulped.

“Fine, then.” Bruce said simply when no one answered. “I guess we’ll just have to check the security footage of the Cave.”

Why didn’t Bruce think of that earlier? He clearly wasn’t trying to give the kids an easy way out.

Bruce stalked over to the computer and began to furiously type at the keys, pulling up the footage for the past few days. The group watched in a tense silence as Bruce rifled through the multiple recordings, searching for the culprit.

“AHA!” Bruce grunted, upon finding a specific time stamp. There was a figure emerging from the shadows. He paused and then slowed down the video so they could all see who it was.

There were several gasps as the figure came into the light, looked around, and made his way to the computer. They had shown their face, not even bothering to hide.

Everyone whirled to Duke, then back to the screen.

“No way,” Harper whispered under her breath.

Because the person on the footage, who was now adding the link to the case file and hooking up bluetooth speakers, was Duke Thomas himself.

Bruce’s eye twitched.

There was a general consensus among the resident vigilantes in the cave at that time: Duke wasn’t going to live to tell the tale.

Duke felt uneasy under their scrutiny, unsure of what to do. This was his plan, after all. To be seen differently. But so far the lack of accusations or uproarious debate was disconcerting.

He looked up at Bruce, awaiting his reaction. Bruce didn’t meet Duke’s eyes.

“Hrn,” he grumbled angrily instead and whirled on Tim. Said teenager was barely standing up straight - well, he was leaning on Steph heavily - and blinked wearily around the cave. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed for a long moment before he whipped around and furiously began to mess with the playback settings on the footage. Everyone stood still, not daring to move while Bruce grumbled under his breath.

Finally Bruce straightened and pointed dramatically toward the screen.

“There,” he grunted out, and everyone subconsciously leaned a little bit forward.

They didn’t see anything different from before, though Bruce’s finger did bring their attention to one of the bats that flew across the upper left hand corner. A few seconds of footage later, and yet another bat flew across in a similar pattern. Not exactly the same, so it wasn’t really out of the ordinary. Lord knows the bats would randomly fly out and into their hair much more than necessary.

“Note how the figure is disturbed when each bat flies across the screen,” Bruce said in the same voice he used when talking about a case - cold, impersonal, and yet like he was giving a college lecture.

No one spoke, not really sure what to say. I mean, what was the correct course of action when your father figure suddenly refuses to accept reality, and is grasping at the most unlikely of straws?

“I know this technique anywhere,” Bruce said more to himself than the line of vigilantes. He turned, completely passing over Duke, and set his sights on Tim.

“Timothy Jackson Drake,” Bruce growled, stalking forward, “What possessed you to doctor this footage?”

Tim didn’t respond, only mumbled incoherently and leaned onto Steph some more.

Bruce was furious, bearing his teeth as he spat out his response: “Now is not the time to use the anti-torture training I’ve given you.”

Tim nodded slowly and draped his arm on top of Stephanie’s head.

“You should know better than this,” Bruce began, “pranks are strictly forbidden in the cave, as you very well know. And in addition, I taught you better at framing than this. You choose a victim that could actually be considered as a suspect. Trying to pin the blame on Duke was your undoing - he would never do something like this.”

Duke cringed slightly, as the rest of the bats glanced Duke’s way. All were a mix of confusion and awe.

This … was not how this was supposed to go. No, screw that. That was an outrageous understatement. Things ‘not going according to plan’ would have been Jason randomly blaming Harper for the mess on no grounds - or maybe Bruce not bothering to check the cameras, opting instead to just ground everyone.

But blatantly ignoring evidence and then lecturing someone completely unrelated? No, this was too much. It couldn’t be real. This was some kind of scare-tactic wasn’t it? Duke was too much of an adrenaline junkie to be bothered by the usual ‘hanging upside down over a busy road’ schtick.

But then Bruce moves on to possible culprits Tim could have chosen instead - did he seriously think that Ra’s Al Ghul would Rick Roll them?! - and Duke lost hope.

“Uhh, Bruce?” Duke asked after the ten minute mark.

The Dark Knight turned and faced Duke.

Duke scratched the back of his neck. “Do you think I could head out for patrol now? It’s getting light out, and since you’ve clearly got this covered… I thought I could scoot out?”

Bruce was nodding before the end of Duke’s request. “Yes, go. I’ll deal with Tim. You don’t need to worry - you won’t be blamed. It clearly wasn’t your fault.”

Duke nodded slowly, and covered his disappointment with a small smirk. “Thanks, B.”

He jogged over to the edge of the platform and dropped down beside his Signal-Cycle. A routine mounting, a quick putting on of his helmet, and he was off.

Duke was scowling as he left, wondering what on earth had gone wrong.

*****

“Did you see that smirk?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Did he blame Tim on purpose?”

“How, though? To make such a tactical move -”

“It would have taken a shit ton of planning.”

“Can we get back on the fact that Bruce was fooled?”

“Or who fooled him?!”

[xbunnybunz]

Sick Days [BEN Drowned x Reader]

Summary: When a creepypasta manages to crawl into your home through a computer, people usually scream and call the police. You? Well, it's just another normal day for you.

Genre: Fluff, Horror, Humor

Date: June 20, 2015

-----

You sat in your room with the expression of utter boredom painted on your features, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on the table next to your open laptop. You grunted as your computer went into hibernation mode again and tapped the spacebar to reawaken the screen. Your bedroom window was wide open, allowing the evening breeze to float into your adobe and gently rustle the papers on your table. Fading streaks of sunlight peeked through your fluttering curtains, caressing your body with soft warmth.

Despite the serene atmosphere that had settled into your semi-messy room, your features were soon twisted into a grimace. The fingers that had been trailing along the table began drumming a steady rhythm, growing quicker and more impatient by the second. You glanced at the clock for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, and read the blaring red numbers 6:23 PM. You scowled, annoyed. "Ugh, where is that little rascal?" You muttered, tapping your keyboard again and watching irefully as your homescreen popped up again. Ben usually arrived before sundown, but the sun was already halfway down the horizon. Ben probably would've taunted you for being so worked up over his absence, and you, being a little short tempered, would probably fall for his teasing and would have exploded into a mess of jumbled profanities. Though many would describe your actions now as "eager," you recalled how petrified you were when Ben first popped out of the fossilized desktop your dad insisted they brought when your family moved. That day, your mother and father had been visiting a sick relative in the hospital, and couldn't come home for the night. You, feeling free and a little daring, decided to stay up the entire night watching horror flicks in your livingroom. Although you felt the terror of eight marathoned horror movies shake you to your core, you persisted, jumping at every little noise from the movie and from your creaky home. That's why, when you witnessed the forgotten computer in the corner of the livingroom fizz and flicker on and off, you froze in unfathomable fear, merely staring as a deathly pale hand clawed it's way out of a jumble of binary code and pixels. By the time a head of tousled white hair and pitch black eyes with crimson irises emerged from the screen, you were already halfway out the door, knowing better than to trap yourself in your own bedroom. You would've spent the night at a neighbor's house, but your closest neighbor must have been at least a mile away- being that your family decided to move into the suburbs. Unfortunately for you, who was secluded in the pitch black of the night with god-knows-what in your house, it was pouring outside. In your mad scramble for salvation, you had not grabbed the keys to your house. You had originally settled for the plan to stay in the freezing rain, (it was definitely a safer bet than being in the house) but alas, the hours spent watching scary movies finally took its toll on you, and had made you paranoid to every small rustle and crunch. (In truth, it was just the trees.) This terror had driven you to crawl up some old growths of ivy on the side of your home, feeling blessed to find your bedroom window open just a crack- allowing you to pry the rest of the window open. Halfway through your window, you looked up- only to become blatantly horrified. There the white-haired boy was, floating in the middle of the room with bleeding eyesockets- as if he had been waiting for your arrival. Overcome with panic and surprise, you allowed the wet soles of your feet slip out from under you, sending your drenched body sailing face-first towards the hardwood floor of your bedroom. Your nose took the brunt of the fall, and erupted in a mess of blood upon impact. The pain of a shattered nose did little to deter you from the thing in your room. Holding your nose with both hands, you scrambled to press yourself against the wall- as far away from that demon-ghost-thing as possible. But when you looked back up, you were shocked to find it trying desperately to hold back laughter, it's eye twitching from the effort. The corner of it's mouth was twitching toward a smirk, and it's eyes were betraying it's stoic expression- it wanted to laugh at you! You shot to your feet, prepared to duke it out with the hovering monster- only to slip a second time on the rainwater that you had tracked into your room. This time, your head collided hard with the frame of your bed, and you blacked out. You woke up the next morning with a wrapped head and a bandaged nose. It turns out your parents had returned from their little trip and found you lying in a puddle of your own nosebleed- which sounds as humiliating as it felt- and had patched you up. After you told them about what you had seen, your parents merely laughed and gave you an affectionate pat on the head, claiming that the stress of moving and lack of sleep had to do with your "hallucinations." You would've believed them, if it wasn't for the fact that the boy showed up in your room again. You fell asleep while using your laptop and when you awoke, you found the pale-haired boy freeing his foot from your computer screen. Though you were sure that the white-haired monster returned to finish you off, you found him simply pointing his finger at your wrapped up face and cackling at you, tears budding in the gaping holes that were his eyes. You felt your face burn with embarrassment, and though you should have called for help, you simply sat there, allowing the strange being to laugh at your misfortune. After what felt like an eternity he retreated back into your computer, still snickering- leaving you bewildered and dazed. He later introduced himself as Ben Drowned over a cyberchat website named "Cleverbot," and you learned his story, as well as the fact that he could teleport just about anywhere that held an electronic device. Later that night, you awoke to a flooded room. With your heart pummeling with fear, you gasped and flailed for breath, desperately searching for a way out. You were less than pleased to find Ben on the screen on your open laptop- which was, for some reason, still working under water. His shoulders shook with muted laughter, doubling over with the hilarity he found in your pitiful predicament. As soon as it started, it was gone. The water that had once filled your room was gone, leaving everything unscathed in it's wake. Once you found mobility in your limbs again, you stormed to your laptop (which still contained the laughing freak) and took out the battery, taking away the laptop's source of life. You stormed about your house, rampaging in the middle of the night to turn off or unplug any source of electricity you could- the phones, the computers, televisions- even the dusty desktop. Despite the complaints of your confused parents, you were at peace. Since you had cut off any source of electricity, (other than the lights) that pesky elf hadn't bothered you- probably because he couldn't. However, your happiness was short-lived. Upon returning from school one day, you found that your parents had somehow reconnected everything before going to work- leaving you with two things: electricity, and an angry Ben. You had no idea how you did it, but you managed to convince Ben not to suck you into the netherworld or kill you- With minimal damage to the house. Before you placated him, Ben had flown into a livid tantrum, tossing tables and pictures to-and-fro with some unseen force, only ceasing when you promised that you would keep all electronics plugged in- thus allowing him to drop in any time he liked. Since then, the white haired boy with red irises visited routinely each day without intentions to scare you, though you were still unnerved by his presence at first. As if he sensed your uneasiness, Ben began to annoy you. Ceaselessly. Day after day, he knocked over decorative vases, messed up your room, taunted your occasional bad grades, and in all: irked the hell out of you. Yet here you were, waiting for his arrival like some kind of goddamned puppy. "What. Ever." You hissed through clenched teeth, standing up from your computer table, "Maybe he got bored of me. He's been visiting me for... God knows how long already...Good riddance." Despite your words, you felt a twinge of sadness prick your heart like a fine-tipped needle. Though he was undoubtedly aggravating most of the time, you had liked him company. Just a little. You sighed, the beams of twilight cast your shadow across the floor. "I should prepare some microwaveable dinner, my parents are working overtime today." As you sulked slowly towards your bedroom door, a loud crash and the sound of loud static pierced your eardrums, making you leap several feet into the air and scramble for the doorknob, storming downstairs to find the source of the noise. You were both annoyed and relieved to find Ben crawling out of the screen of the old desktop, though your annoyance went out the window once you spotted his shaking arms on the edge of the screen, as if he couldn't support his own weight. You extended a hand out to him, flinching as he finally managed to haul himself out of the mess of codes, landing in a heap on the floor. "Ben?" You inquired, peering at his crumpled form. "Are you okay...?" You knelt down next to him, touching his shoulder gently. "Ben?" At your voice, the creepypasta turned to look at you weakly before sniggering quietly- which worried you a bit. "What are you doing in my house?" You raised an eyebrow. "Ben, this is my house. Not yours." Ben, who had a pinkish hue to his pale cheeks, took a look around before the realization dawned upon him. "Oh, right. I'll be going then." You watched as the usually boisterous entity struggled to get back onto his feet, only to fall down again. This time, however, you caught him. Once his body made contact with your arms, you nearly shrieked. The back of his neck was burning hot, and the rest of his body was strangely warm- just like an overheated computer. "Ben-" You adjusted your hold on him, (he was a lot heavier than he looked) "Ben, are you sick?" Ben glared at you weakly. "No." You sighed, exasperated. His pride was going to be the death of him one day. You placed a gentle palm his forehead, cringing at the impossibly high temperature you felt. "Ben, you have a high fever. A bad one." The said person clicked his tongue and turned his face away, looking irritated. "That explains why I felt like shit the whole day." You couldn't help but snicker as you carried him to the couch, "That also explains why you didn't think of visiting me today." "Get off your high-fucking-horse, princess." Ben scowled, trying in vain to look threatening. "You should be thankful that I visit you everyday." You rolled your eyes, placing him softly on the couch. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for gracing me with your presence everyday, dumbass." You swore you heard Ben grumble something under his breath, but you were already too far up the stairs to hear. You returned with several pillows, a thermometer and some pills from the bathroom cabinet, determined to nurse Ben back to health. Though he was an annoying turd most of the time, there were rare moments where he comforted you in times of need- though most of the time, his offers to help just involved murdering someone, which you kindly refused. ("Killing people isn't the solution to everything, you freaking moron!") Now, it was your turn to help him. With an abundance of pillows in your arms, you urged him to sit up for a second (which he did with an anguished groan) and slipped four or five behind him, ensuring his comfort. You went into the kitchen and returned with a damp cloth and a glass of water to drink with the medicine. To be honest, you weren't quite sure if human medicine worked on creepypasta such as Ben, but it was all you had. "Ben, come on, you need to take some medicine." He scoffed at you. "Get your Earth pills away from me. You know just as well as I do that those won't work for me." You knelt next to him on the floor next to the couch and uncapped the bottle, shaking two pills out of the container and nudging him up. "You're right. I don't know if it'll work, but it's the only thing I have, so just suck it up and take them." "Get away from me." He hissed. "Ben..." You said, your tone threatening, "Don't make me unplug everything again." At this, Ben's hollow eyes narrowed, the red specks of light in them piercing into your skull. "You wouldn't dare." You gulped, feeling a cold sweat accumulate at his intense gaze. You steeled yourself and glared right back at him. "Try me." Grudgingly, Ben accepted the pills and sat up. Before you could stop him, he threw the pills in his mouth and began to chew. You froze, holding the cup of water in your hand and staring at him with wide eyes. You had made the same mistake of chewing those pills when you were younger, prior to figuring out that you could use water to wash them down. To be frank, those pills could cause more damage than a fever if not taken with water- they were horrendously bitter, and nearly caused you to puke. Just as you thought, Ben gradually stopped chewing, turning even paler than he already was- if possible. Though his face showed no emotion, you could almost feel the bloodthirsty aura that washed off of him, obviously not too pleased with the taste. You wasted no time in shoving the glass of water in his hands, urging him to drink. The water was gone before you could even blink, and Ben held the front of your shirt with an intent of death in his eyes. "You-" He stuttered, his face tinted red from anger, "You-" You braced yourself for whatever might come, but surprisingly, the grip on your shirt loosened, and Ben flopped back down unceremoniously, letting the pillows swallow his lean body. "Oh, whatever... Why would humans invent something so horrible to heal a sickness? If anything, that just made me sicker..." You smiled nervously, feeling the slightest bit guilty. "Er, it's my fault... I should have told you about the water sooner..." Ben scowled faintly. "Damn right you should've." You whispered a low "sorry" before wringing the wet towel, placing the cool cloth on Ben's head. This pulled a sigh of satisfaction from his lips, his eyes fluttering closed with contentment. You uncapped the thermometer, clicking the "ON" switch before turning back to Ben. "One last thing before you rest, Ben. I need your temperature." Ben didn't even bother to open his eyes or complain- which surprised you. Without hesitation, he simply opened his mouth. You found yourself smiling endearingly at his actions: it was like handling a stubborn child- all you had to do was get past his hard shell. Taking Ben's temperature was a little bit of a struggle, since the digital screen glitched and spazzed out once it made contact with him. However, once you had taken his temperature, your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. The little pixels, occasionally glitching, read "105.7° F. " After discovering this little fact, you urged him to sleep for a bit- feeling a bit panicked. After the third time of telling him to just relax and sleep, Ben snapped at you. "If you tell me to go to sleep one more time, I'll call Jeff up here and tell him to put you to sleep." Though you knew this was an empty threat, it still shut you up. You had heard a lot about Jeff the Killer, and though some of your friends were obsessed with him, you weren't too keen on meeting him. After turning on the fan in hopes to cool Ben down, you settled back next to him on the floor, watching his uneven breathing. After a few moments of staring, Ben's eyes snapped open, feebly glaring at you before it turned into a smirk. "Sweetheart, I know i'm good looking- but if you're gonna stare, at least do something that can excuse you from it." You blinked and furrowed your brows, feeling embarrassed but relieved. It sounded like he was feeling a bit better- but was that really a good thing for you? Silently, you lifted a hand and began combing it through his silvery hair, knocking his hat astray. However, Ben didn't seem to mind. In fact, he completely ignored his hat and turned away from you, as if he were hiding his face. Despite his best efforts, you spotted a pinkish tint on his cheeks that extended to his ears- and you were sure it wasn't because of the fever he had. You watched him with soft eyes and continued your small ministrations, wondering how he had gotten sick in the first place. Before long, Ben had fallen asleep to your touch and the low hum of the fan. Sighing breathily, you gave the sleeping boy a thoughtful look. You didn't understand why he had kept the routine of visiting you everyday, but you weren't about to complain. Moving was no easy task, it included making new friends and leaving the old ones behind. Your socializing skills weren't your strongest suit, and although you tried your best, it was difficult to keep a conversation with someone at school- you feared their judgement. Though you knew most of the people at school didn't mean any harm to you, it was still a little scary for you to be cast out into a new environment so suddenly, it made you feel vulnerable. And although Ben had scared the pants off of you at first, you slowly began to realize that your arguments and chats with him didn't make you tense or anxious. Perhaps you could even go as far as to say he made you the slightest bit happy. You continued to play with his hair for a little while before removing your hands, observing him carefully. It was true that Ben was relatively handsome, though you would rather die than admit that to him. His white hair and pale complexion gave him the look of a hauntingly beautiful angel, though his eyes were dark and devilish, always seeming to hold only the most malicious of intentions. While he was awake, his countenance was usually twisted into a smirk or a sneer- which didn't exactly make him more attractive, but definitely did not take away from it, either. However, as he was asleep, you couldn't help but notice how strikingly bewitching he looked without the usual grimace. His long, white eyelashes brushed against his cheekbones, colored pale pink with his fever. Though you hadn't noticed it previously, it was almost unnerving how captivating Ben was. With his sleek, graceful features relaxed, you almost wouldn't have been able to guess that he was such a cunning gremlin while he was awake. You couldn't stop your eyes from wandering to his lips, which were slightly parted with his steady inhales and exhales. Just like the rest of his body, his lips were deathly pale, and slightly chapped- though they still looked inviting. You blushed and averted your eyes upon realizing how inappropriate your thoughts were. Ben was horribly sick and helpless, yet here you were, daydreaming about... A kiss... You covered your face, feeling humiliation wash over you in waves. Ben would probably laugh himself to death if he knew what you were thinking. The mere thought of being with Ben was impractical within itself, since there was no way monsters like him were even capable of feelings, right...? Your train of thought was halted when you heard the silverette groan lowly from across you. You peered out from your hands with questioning eyes, wondering if you had woken him up with the intensity of your staring. (Was that even possible, though?) He wasn't awake. His eyes were still sealed shut, but his mouth was twitching, as if he were trying to say something. You leaned in closer, watching attentively. Did he want water? A colder towel? More pillows? Suddenly, much to your shock, your name erupted from his lips, sounding like a cross between a groan of irritation and a plea. Then, he was silent again. You felt a warmness in your body emitting from the center of your stomach, and before long, you found yourself smiling at Ben. He was asleep, so it wouldn't hurt too much, right...? Slowly, you leaned forward and brushed back some of his soft locks, marveling at how pretty his face was. With such a small distance between you two, you could smell his scent- a distinct smell of static and coconut. Gently, you pressed your lips to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his soft, feverish skin on your own mouth. As you pulled away, you found a hand on the back of your head, pulling you back in. Wide eyes registered as Ben tilted his head, and his lips met yours, watching your bewildered expression with groggy, half-lidded eyes before he closed them, pressing his lips harder against your own. His mouth was burning hot, no doubt it was because of the fever, but it made the kiss even harder to resist. With flushed cheeks, you allowed your eyes to slip shut as well, returning the gentle pressure lightly. You noted that Ben was being unusually careful as he cupped your face, as if you were made of fragile glass that would shatter at any moment. You smiled at this, and brushed the side of his cheek with the back of your hand endearingly. He pulled away and you opened your mouth to speak, but before you could get a word in, his lips descended upon yours again, his tongue sweeping over your already open lips and tickling the roof of your mouth. You squeaked a bit at this, and he pulled back, his hand still on your cheek, opening his eyes to take in your reddened face and light panting. And then you saw it. It surprised you more than the kiss did- and perhaps more than his first appearance did. Ben smiled. It was a genuine smile, albeit small, unlike the smirks and half-grins he gave you all the time. This time, his lips curled naturally, softening his scarlet eyes a twinge. The hues of twilight poured in from the window and washed over both of you, bathing both of you in a beautiful gradient of a fading pink, yellow and orange. You should have scolded him for kissing you while he was sick, but you couldn't find the heart to ruin the mood. Instead, you smiled back at him, leaning into the hand that remained on your cheek. There, in the wake of the lingering sun, you discovered that what once was your greatest fear was also your greatest treasure.

[writer-room]

Siblings: Chapter Four

AO3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: The Bats reflect on how their thoughts about siblings have changed over the years. Some opinions stayed, others didn't.

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Tim didn’t know how to feel about being an only child.

He didn’t think about it all that often, there weren’t many kids he talked to at school who mentioned their siblings all that frequently. And, in some parts, he didn’t mind it so much.

The kids who did talk about siblings complained, whether their siblings were older or younger. There were those who said their sibling took up more of their parents attention, which was something Tim was already lacking in. Some said that they never had any time to themselves, something that Tim had an overabundance in, but still cherished. Others said that the accomplishments, and failures, of their siblings reflected onto them, making their parents expect more or less of them. Tim couldn’t afford that either. His parents already didn’t think much of him, he didn’t need it to be any less. And if they wanted more, he worried he wouldn’t be able to meet their expectations.

And yet…

Sometimes he liked the idea of someone else in that empty mansion. Someone to talk to when the rooms felt too large, when the loneliness was suffocating him. He liked the thought of sharing his recent theories, photos, and the like with someone. Wondered if he could go on for as long as he wanted without being interrupted.

Maybe they’d be someone who didn’t call him by a name that wasn’t his, then feign forgetting. Who didn’t treat his binders like they were assaulting their eyes. Who didn’t scrutinize his every movement for faking.

That’d be nice, he thinks. 

But there were pros and cons, he reasons. And for all he knows, if he had a sibling, they could’ve been just like his parents. Or they could’ve been kinder. Not like he’d ever know.

He had more important things to worry about than hypotheticals and wishes.

“Before you scold me, know that I took a five hour nap earlier today and I’m only getting a snack.”

Steph and Duke blinked at him from the doorway to the kitchen, their expressions a sharp contrast between exasperated and concerned, respectively.

“Wow, five hours?” Steph snarked. “That’s a new record. Are you dying?”

“Not yet,” Tim said, opening the fridge. “Give it a few weeks and I’m sure you’ll see rumors of my tragic defeat at the hands of, I dunno, Flamingo.”

“There’s a supervillain named Flamingo?” Duke exclaimed, staring at Steph incredulously.

“Oh, yeah, it’s a whole thing.” She nodded. “He had a scuffle with Jay and his kid a while back.”

“Jason has a kid?”

“Why are you up, anyway?” Tim talked right over him. “Duke I understand, he’s the disgraced child of the sun. But you patrol at the same time as every other nocturnal person in this house.”

“Hey-”

“I actually had to pretend to have a normal sleep schedule, my mom was getting worried and I didn’t want her finding me sneaking in with my full Spoiler getup on.” Steph explained tiredly. “I’m still trying to recover.”

“Tragic,” Tim hummed, pulling out a container holding a ham sandwich. 

“The only thing that's tragic is your outfit.” Steph snorted, looking him up and down.

Tim blinked, looking down at himself. His outfit consisted of a pair of knockoff Batman shorts, knee-high pastel dinosaur socks, and a long red robe that absolutely did not belong to him hanging loosely off him, exposing countless scars littering his body.

“I look awesome,” Tim said, popping the lid off the container. 

“Damian’s gonna start asking what battles you got your scars from again,” Steph tutted, striding further into the kitchen with a confused Duke following her. “Know that I will not be on your side when Dick notices and gets worried.”

“I’m more worried about Dami seeing this one,” He said, brushing the robe back slightly to reveal a poorly stitched surgical scar on his upper abdomen. “Because then he’s going to ask what happened, and then I’m gonna have to tell him that's where my spleen used to be, and then he's going to be reminded that oh, yeah, his brother has a missing spleen, and then he’s going to be treating everything like its diseased-”

“Does...he keep forgetting you lost your spleen?” Duke blinked, concerned. “I feel like that’d be something you were kinda always aware of…”

“Eh, everyone's worried about a different scar whenever they see ‘em.” He shrugged, glancing down as he traced over one of the surgery scars along his chest. “Which is frankly a little rude. I earned this right to be shirt free.”

“Hell yeah you did,” Steph grinned before her eyes dropped to the sandwich Tim was attempting to eat. “Isn’t that Cullen’s?”

“He didn’t label it, therefore it’s mine.” Tim said simply.

“Harper’s gonna kill you,” Duke warned warily. 

“Only if she catches me,” He said, taking a bite of the sandwich. “Why’re you guys here, anyway? Grabbing a snack?”

“Lookin’ for Babs,” Steph said, hands in her pockets. “Someone on Twitter started a war about which Batgirl was better, and Babs will probably get a kick out of being remembered as the ‘missing Batgirl.’”

“Oh she’ll be pissed about being remembered that way.” Tim agreed, shoving the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. “Babs will see it in five minutes or less, though. Swear she has a sixth sense for whenever someone mildly associated with the Bats is mentioned.” He mumbled.

“You wanna hijack the thread before she finds it?” He suggested.

“Hijack it?” Duke echoed.

“We’re gonna yell about random stuff that doesn’t contribute to the conversation until all hell breaks loose.” Steph explained, already pulling out her phone. “Tim?”

“How do you feel about discussing why the sun lightens hair, but darkens skin?” Tim suggested, leaving the container on the counter as he brushed by Steph.

“You just want to piss off someone from Metropolis.”

“It’s law as a Bat that I have to torment Superman whenever I possibly can.” Tim shrugged.

“Does that include me?” Duke blinked. “Because I personally think tormenting Superman is a bad idea.”

“Clark wouldn’t hurt a fly,”

“Yeah, but he’ll give me the face of disappointment and I don’t think I can live with that.” Duke protested.

“He can barely even manage--where are you going?” Steph looked up, only now realizing Tim was leaving the kitchen.

“I’m starting the mayhem on the big screens.” Tim grinned, looking back over his shoulder.

“Please don’t tell me he’s going to use Twitter on the bat computer,” Duke sighed.

“He’s totally going to use the bat computer,” Steph smiled, following after him. “C’mon! It’s initiation time.”

“Do you guys just call every weird thing you do initiation?” Duke called, hurrying behind them. “Because I’ve been told I’m part of an initiation five times in the last week.”

“You’re stuck in initiation until this becomes the norm,” Steph said cheerfully. 

“Of course,” Duke muttered.

Tim’s robe billowed behind him like an amateur cape as he wandered towards the door leading towards the steps into the Batcave. He threw open the door, the sound of it slamming echoing and startling the bats on the ceiling.

“Jesus!”

Harper jumped from the swivel chair in front of the computer, wide-eyed as she blinked up at the trio at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Harps,” Steph greeted, hopping onto the stairs railing and sliding down. “We’re here to cause problems on Twitter.”

“Oh, well, in that case, by all means.” Harper snarked, getting up and grandly gesturing to the countless screens. “Not like I was using it for actual work.”

“Were you using it?” Tim asked, pointedly glaring at Steph to keep his recent adventure to the kitchen quiet.

“...looking for tasers to modify count as work, right?” She said after a moment.

“Technically,” Tim nodded,  ignoring Steph’s smug look that absolutely signified she was going to blackmail him later. “But you can just use Dick’s old escrima sticks. He goes through a pair every two or three weeks, but most still work pretty well, he’s just too lazy to fix them.”

“Sweet,” Harper grinned. She then paused, taking in Tim’s appearance as he slid into the seat she was previously occupying. 

“Why do you look like you’re auditioning to be the pretty girl who dies in a low-budget slasher?”

“First of all, how dare you assume I wouldn’t be the first one to die for representation points,” Tim said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “Second of all, it’s called having fashion, and also being allowed to do whatever I want.”

“You have terrible fashion sense,” Harper snorted, crossing her arms as Steph and Duke came up beside her. “But fair, I can respect that.”

“See?” Tim said, looking at Steph. “Some people can afford to not be rude.”

“Keep talking and I’ll lose more blackmail material,” Steph calmly threatened.

Harper glanced between the two, to which Tim quietly, and quickly, turned back to the screen and ignored the both of them. Harper raised a brow but didn’t comment. Tim made a mental note to sneak into one of Jason’s unused safe houses after this was over. Steph couldn’t keep quiet for the life of her.

“What are you starting, anyway?” Harper asked, crossing her arms and leaning on the back of Tim’s chair. “A sob story about the Opportunity rover?”

“Another day,” Tim promised, opening up Twitter on the countless screens. He opened another one on the other half of the computer, which Steph quickly stood at and got her own Twitter set up. “Right now, we’re questioning how the sun makes hair lighter, but skin darker. And we’re dragging Clark into it.”

“If anyone asks, I had no part in this.” Duke said, watching the two typing with a frown. “Initiation doesn't include learning how to taunt Superman, right?”

“Eh, we can settle for you becoming close with a Kryptonian,” Steph shrugged. “Dick and Bruce share Clark, Jay’s got Bizarro, Cass and I got Kara, Babs I think counts with her, too, Damian’s got Jon, and Tim has Kon.” She listed off.  “Harper and Cullen took the ‘bully Superman’ route without befriending any of his family, which is a coward's way out, so you can take, I dunno, does Chris still exist in this timeline?”

“I can call in a favor from Bart to reset the timeline again so he exists.” Tim said with a casual shrug, pulling up the thread arguing about the Batgirls. 

“I’m sorry, what--”

“Finding Kryptonians who aren’t already taken is hard!” Harper protested, talking over Duke. “And Clark likes you guys being friends with his family. The only issue he has is Damian getting testy and Tim making heart eyes at Kon every five minutes.”

“I do not!” Tim squawked, whirling around in the chair to glare at the traitors he dared call family. In his head. Family in his head.

“You do,” Steph and Harper chorused.

“I’ve met Kon for less than twenty minutes and even I know.” Harper added. “I’m sure Duke knew.”

“I...yeah…” Duke coughed into his fist and turned away. “But in my defense, the gossip around here is practically shouted down the halls twice a week.”

“You were subjected to Dick having another crisis about Jay dating Kory for two months, weren’t you?” Steph said, trying to hide a snicker.

“There were so many things I didn’t want to know,” Duke whispered, face horror-stricken. 

“Eh, at least Jay hasn’t brought up Talia around Dami yet.” Tim shrugged. “At that point, it’s better to just vacate the premises.” 

“Wait--”

“Point is, you either befriend the Kryptonian or you torment them. That’s the rules.” Tim talked over him again, scrolling down the thread and boredly looking over the arguments. “You ready, Steph?”

“As I’ll ever be,” She grinned, giving a thumbs up. “How long till Babs notices and takes this whole thing down?”

“Few more minutes, tops.” Tim shrugged, already typing. “You two wanna give any input?” He asked, glancing behind him to Harper and Duke.

“Ask if Kryptonian skin can be used as extreme sunscreen,” Harper suggested. “That’ll rile him up.”

“Now I’m just curious if it can,” Tim said, but obediently began making his comment.

“You could just...ask?” Duke tried, clearly not taking in any of what was happening.

“Nah, Kon’s half human, I don’t think it works the exact same.” Tim shook his head, not looking back. “Kara would destroy me if I tried, Bizarro has the same problem, Jon wouldn’t know, and Clark would start telling Bruce he’s worried I’m deranged again.”

“Aren’t you?” Duke raised a brow.

“Only if I feel like it,”

“And when he forgets to sleep for ninety-eight hours.” Steph spoke up.

Tim rolled his eyes, tuning out his siblings as they continued to talk. He posted his comment before sparing a peek back at them, currently throwing off ideas to their hijacking plan like it was an everyday occurrence. Well, to Steph and Harper at least. But, to Duke’s credit, he appeared to be getting more used to it on prodding from his...sisters? Hard to tell, Steph was her own classification of family member. They were some weird choices for family, at least.

Tim watched them for a moment before turning back to making another comment on the logistics of sunscreen, a smile on his face.

He couldn’t find it in him to complain. Too much, at least.

[pluviophile-bookworm]

HSMTMTS 2x9: so dreaded, so exciting, 'Sword!' (yeah, I went there, I've been thinking about this scene - you know the one - since yesterday for some reason)

After two computer malfunctions and a very tough, very sleepless night, here I am with a third attempt to write this post. The universe is against me today. Is Mercury in retrograde or something? Ugh, I just want to get this over with already. And I haven't even managed to see half the episode yet. You better like this cursed post because it's taken me two hours at this point, and will probably take another to finish - and that is if nothing goes wrong this time. Please bear with me. This is my reaction to HSMTMTS 2x9, take 3. Let's hope and pray it's the last one.

I'm normally [unpopular opinion alert] a very spoiler-positive person (it's the combination of anxiety and ADHD and a bunch of other stuff, I suppose), but for this one I've been refraining from looking at the tag all morning, so by now I'm simply bursting with impatience. But before we dive in, I need to get some stuff off my chest.

Some pre-watch thoughts and feelings (let's see how well they will have aged by the end of the episode):

Seriously, what is with whoever writes this show? I know it's impossible, but I feel like they've been toying with my emotions specifically all season. Like:

Ah, so you were a Rini shipper last season? Great, now we'll make them obnoxious and borderline toxic to the point where you actually want them to break up, but then their old chemistry will be back just for the breakup scene so that you can cry your eyes out over the one couple you couldn't stand - even though you can't seem to relate to a single song from Sour, we'll make you feel like you do for a hot second. At least it will remind you that you loved Ricky.

So you say Redlyn own your heart and soul? Great, we'll make you dread something going wrong with them for a week straight, and mess up your sleep schedule beyond repair over it. You're welcome!

We heard you said Rodfini give you life? Perfect, how about a big Seblos fight? And would you like a side of questioning your choice to stan Carlos with that? Because what is life without a little anxiety, a bit of doubt of your ability to read people, and a pinch of existential dread, right?

Ah, so you claimed not to ship Portwell romantically, is that right? Brilliant, we'll make you ship them and then we'll use that to torture you, too.

You've been excited about ABF and Asher Angel guest-starring ever since they were announced? Magnificent! We'll make you hate ABF's character to the point where you can't even look at him, and we'll make you call him names you thought yourself incapable of uttering. And as for Asher, you'll be left waiting for him until the last third of the season, and then you'll dread the possibility of hating his character, too. Do you love us yet?

Oof! Right then, I've got that out of my system. Time to dive in.

Miss Jenn playing around with the backgrounds is, like, 90% of the people who had online school this year, and honestly, I love that for her.

Wait, why is Nini first on this call? Are they going through with the Rose thing? Cos like, the song is nice and all (and, might I add, much more to my taste than nearly all of Sour, don't @ me), but if they use it, it will get them disqualified. They’ve been told that! Gosh, please let me be wrong about this.

We get it, Carlito, rich and fancy and over-the-top is kind of your thing, but have you stopped for a second to think about how others will feel about this? Especially Seb, whom you claim to care about. Seriously, though, I love Carlos and would not hesitate to die for him, but I’m getting the feeling that, unlike my other favourite (you know the one), he wouldn’t do the same for me. Oh well, he’ll figure it out. He’s just a kid. Give him time.

Wait, Milky White? Is that an Into the Woods reference I smell? Cool! If I had a cow, I’d totally name her Milky White (or Gertrude, but don’t ask me why). I just hope they don’t have to, like, take her to the market and exchange her for magic beans, if you catch my drift.

Ahhhhh, Caswell cousins content! We love to see it!

‘You guys are watching, like, old old movies’ WTH, Nini (or is it Nina)? Scary Movie is literally younger than me. But what do you know about it, you 21st-century baby! Ugh, I don’t know why I’m being so hostile today... must be the lack of sleep. Hope it doesn’t influence my reactions to the episode so dramatically as to make me forget how much I love this series. Because I do.

Yay! Big Red is here! I can finally smile. And did Ash just say they’re soulmates? Because yes they are! Ahhh my heart is going to explode.

‘Nini, have you heard from [Ricky]?’ Yikes, awkward... but of course, Big Red can be counted on to save the day here, too.

Ok, so that was a cool cold open. Time for some nice in-person scenes, though. I did not spend all of three semesters doing online school just to have the characters of my favourite series do the same.

Wow, Gina is really embracing that French accent thing! And I really don’t want to think about, erm, ‘Napoleon over here’ right now, but I really think the fact that she’s doing it better than him will be another piece of evidence towards my theory of fake-French!Antoine... ugh, I said his name. Oh well. Back to Gina. Too bad the French thing didn’t work out for her.

Ahhhh, Portwell with Ash in the background! And Ash is going to paint EJ’s nails! I feel like he’s going to end up loving that, despite what he says right now. But seriously, I just love how comfortable these two are with each other. Can you blame me now for shipping them as friends? Well, I mean, it’s obvious they will be more than friends, and somehow, despite the amatonormativity of it all, I’m here for it.

Wait, was that Asher? That was Asher, I’m 100% sure of it. And Gina said ‘a sign’ and then looked at him, even from the back... what am I supposed to think and feel here? I’m confused. Moving on.

Ahh, poor Ricky being a burrito... good thing that breakup scene last time reminded me that I love him, because the entirety of the season before that was very good at making me forget that.

Wait, did she say ‘the Bean’? As in, that Bean? The infamous Bean? LOL.

‘So the only time you two talk to each other is to gossip about me’ Boy, did I feel that. I once got my hands on my dad’s mobile and I... kind of went through his texts with mum. Yep, all about me and my brother. At this point I feel like they’re only together because of us. But this is getting too personal. I’m here about the episode, not to rant about my family. Moving on.

Yikes, looks like Nini’s got writer’s block all over again. Am I supposed to feel sorry for her? Because I kind of don’t. I mean, no hate towards her, none at all, but that entire scene just felt awkward and unnecessary. And not just because it’s her first time going live. That I can understand. What I don’t understand is why the writers can’t seem to do anything creative and interesting with Nini. Olivia is being wasted there. Idk, that’s just how I feel. Again, no hate.

Ahhhhh it’s Asher! And well, he’s not Jonah, but I kind of really like him as Jack. I wonder if that will last.

So is it just me, or is anyone else not quite sure how to feel about Ricky’s mum? I mean, their interactions seem kind of awkward and strained, but that’s how it’s supposed to be given their recent history, and yet something just doesn’t sit quite right with me.

‘You there, Muse? It’s me, Nini!’ Ah, so it’s Nini again? I didn’t get the memo. Gosh, this episode is kind of really underwhelming. The most exciting thing so far (but not nearly as exciting in practice as it was in theory) – Asher and Sofia’s on-screen reunion. The second most exciting thing? The thought of Ash painting EJ’s nails. Everything else? Kind of ‘whatever’. Is this what I tossed and turned about all night? Totally not worth it. This episode better get, like, 300% better right this instant. It’s just not worth all the frustration and excitement and dread so far.

Looks like my prayers from just now have been heard! That improv scene was hilarious! Guess it was lucky that Miss Jenn had them do improv before this moment. But I need to know more of Jack’s backstory now.

Ok, so that was awkward! So Kourtney is talking to Howie again, I guess. And I guess I know now what Carlos did that was all public and no subtle. Still, what’s wrong with posting photos from your holiday? Guess I don’t exactly know yet what Carlos did to piss the others off so much.

Great, now I’m tempted to google butterfly faces. Good thing I’m not eating anymore. *** Ughhhhh this was a mistake! Please don’t ever look a butterfly in the face if you want to stay sane. Don’t be like me.

Ahhh the Duke sweater! ‘Is that your boyfriend’s?’ Well, not quite yet, it’s not... *screams in Portwell*

Oh, now we’re talking! But seriously, Ricky? The ‘my friends think’ card? Why don’t you just say ‘I think’? It’s clearly something you’ve thought about a lot. I feel like I’m going to love this scene or cry over it or both.

Ooh, therapy. It’s not just... basically the entire fandom... who says it now. Please tell me that means Ricky will be going to therapy at some point. Says the girl who is currently firmly refusing to go to therapy in favour of hyperfixating on HSMTMTS and getting back into the good old practice of having imaginary friends... yeah, I’m one to talk.

My, my, my! Seb has really had it now. I mean, it was about time, but... not quite like this. My heart is starting to do some weird stuff, I can feel it. I might need to lie down.

Ok, so as much as I envy North High for getting to see so many shows on BWay – basically living out my dream – stalking East High on Instagram and being shady about them taking a well-deserved break... just goes beyond all limits. I mean, if you’re so into Broadway shows, you should know as well as I do what happened the last time a certain founding father did not take a break. Maybe you’re the ones in need of a break here.

Nini on the call with the Caswell cousins, though... ‘I’m obsessed with both of you’ – first relatable thing she’s said or done all season. And EJ playing with old toys is pure gold.

Oh, so Jack’s dad is a pilot. Makes sense, I guess. I’m kind of intrigued by this guy. Just as long as he doesn’t try to come between Portwell before they’ve had the chance to happen, you know...

Ashlyn might need to stop swooning over Nini’s songwriting or Big Red might get jealous... I mean, I would not have pinned him as the jealous type before 2x7, but ever since then... I guess insecure + dating a girl like Ash = the jealous type. And although that looks good on him, I’d bet anything it doesn’t feel particularly pleasant on his side. So... wait, why am I talking about Big Red? He hasn’t even got anything to do with the scene at hand. But then again, there’s been so little Big Red content in this episode that I seem to be trying to make up for it. Still. Stay focused.

Ooh, so Big Red did edit that video! Is there anything my boy can’t do? Ok, now I feel like he’s even more criminally underappreciated than he was before. But let’s look at the video. I’m curious to see the whole thing because that sneak peek from yesterday simply hasn’t been enough.

That was... really, really cool! I love how they took the ‘when they go low, we go high’ line from last time and run with it. Now if only they were putting as much effort into BATB... North High wouldn’t know what hit them.

Hmmmm... I guess Gina and Jack could be what I originally wanted Portwell to be... really cool friends. Unless it’s one of those ‘airport magic’ things. Oh well. It probably is. Was that all we’re seeing of Asher here? I did not wait 2/3 of the season for this. Though it was nice.

Ooh, Ricky’s solo song... why is there more Rini chemistry in this song than there was in all the season? Not counting the breakup scene, of course. Also, I feel like it’s just as much about him and his mum as it is about Nini. Some say music is the best therapy. I think they might be right. And no, I’m not crying. You are.

The granola bar, though... this episode might have been very underwhelming in the first half, but... it delivered in the Portwell front, and the music was *chef’s kiss*, so I’m willing to let it slide that the advertised Seblos ‘big fight’ was not touched upon nearly enough. Maybe next week...

Ok, now that we’re done watching the episode, let’s see how my feelings from the beginning have aged:

The Rini breakup: apparently, along with reminding me that I love Ricky, it has rendered me unable to look at Nini. What’s up with that? If this is some sort of tactic along the lines of ‘Olivia might be leaving the show so we’re making you hate her character so that you won’t miss her’, it’s not really working. Because I don’t want to hate Nini. Believe me, I don’t.

Redlyn: ok, so there’s nothing wrong with them whatsoever - we even got a ‘soulmates’, which I loved - but first they’re being swept under the rug, and then the antis come at us with that ‘their relationship is underdeveloped’ nonsense. Individually, though, I liked them in this episode (even if there was a significant shortage of Big Red), and Ashlyn collaborating with Nini again was cool, but... what I really wanted to see was her painting EJ’s nails. Did she even get the chance to actually do it? Maybe next week.

Seblos: I’m still failing to understand exactly what Seb thinks Carlos did wrong (please enlighten me if you did catch that, I’m kind of slow), but he (Seb) does have reasons to be mad at him (Carlos)... and at other people, too. Still, if you want to have a fight between two people in a relationship, you could do much better than whatever this episode was. Maybe next week. I notice I’m saying that a lot. Guess I’m putting a lot of hopes on 2x10. I just pray it doesn’t disappoint.

Portwell: boy, am I happy that my frustration on this front did not age well! What I mean is, apparently they’ve decided to bless us, not torture us for once. Even a rather disappointing episode like this one had to have some sort of silver lining. And Portwell is it.

Asher as Jack: well, luckily I didn’t hate him, but... it’s kind of the opposite problem. I loved him and now they’re taking him away from me. Guess I just can’t win here. Oh well. At least he didn’t have the screen time to get in between Portwell...

All in all: 2x10, my hopes and prayers are with you!

[stewblog]

GODZILLA VS. KONG

What do you want out of a movie where a gigantic ape with a magic axe goes toe-to-toe with a nuclear-powered lizard? How you answer this question is the key to whether or not you will experience maximum enjoyment from a movie like “Godzilla vs. Kong”.

I’ve never been one to advocate the “just turn off your brain and have fun” approach to movie watching. I think every movie should actively try to engage its audience in some meaningful way beyond (pun intended) lizard-brained mindless spectacle. But we do not live in that world, and when a movie comes along that doesn’t even attempt to provide even a fortune cookie’s worth of thematic depth or meaning and instead focuses purely on going hard into the paint for MONKEY PUNCH LIZARD … well, I honestly have to respect it.

And boy does it go hard.

Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t seen a movie on the big screen in nearly a full year. It was, admittedly, a near-overwhelming experience seeing these gigantic mythological creatures duke it out in an image size taller than my house. But the impact of each instance of Godzilla and King Kong coming to blows felt at an echelon above most blockbuster spectacle of late.

City-annihilating, CGI destruction-fests are absolutely nothing new, and the advances in technology make literally anything possible and even believable now. Following in the footsteps of 2014’s “Godzilla,” “Kong: Skull Island” and “Godzilla: King of the Monsters,” the action in “Godzilla vs. Kong” has a weight to it that simply cannot exist when the subjects in focus are sized as mere mortals. Director Adam Wingard manages to deliver a sense of immersion to the mayhem here that I found overall lacking in many of the previous films. It feels more personal, in a way, which is an odd thing to say about a movie like this.

Though perhaps it shouldn’t be all that odd. After all, Kong is back at the forefront once more and this version of the great ape has always felt like more of a character than Godzilla in his most recent appearances. By design and, in some ways, necessity, Godzilla is more of a force of nature, an event to behold and survive rather than anything one could possibly begin to identify with. But there’s a humanity to Kong that’s evoked both in Skull Island and here that you can’t help but attach to, even if you’re firmly on #TeamGodzilla.

As such, throwing Kong face- (and fist) first into an all-out, no-holds-barred brawl for titan supremacy makes the proceedings feel much more interesting than the shodowns in “Godzilla” ‘14 or “King of the Monsters,” all of which felt more detached. There’s no way or reason to invest in who won in those films since at the end, it’s still an uncontrollable monster that comes out on top. But by giving us someone to root for with Kong now in the mix makes the battles feel more dangerous and meaningful, in a way.

If you’re wondering why I haven’t talked about the plot or even the set up, well, that’s because there’s barely anything resembling as such.

We pick things up a couple years after Godzilla became reigning kaiju champion and the titular king of the monsters upon ripping Ghidora asunder. Humanity seems to have accepted its status as, at best, observers of Godzilla, ostensibly under his protection from any remaining so-called Titans. However, after he destroys a research plant for the mega-corporation Apex, Godzilla is deemed an imminent threat and Kong is brought out of hiding as a possible means to stop him.

There are other machinations involving Hollow Earth Theory, mystical power sources, etc. and the humans who get tangled up in all of it, but none of it matters. And I don’t mean that in a metaphorical sense. I mean that you could (and probably should) cut out everything involving Madison (Millie Bobbie Brown), her father (Kyle Chandler) and the two conspiracy nuts who follow her around out of the movie entirely and nothing of value or importance would be lost. In fact, it’d only help make the movie get to the good stuff faster.

The human presence in these movies has largely been a hindrance, but it’s frankly astonishing just how useless and pointless 80 percent of the humans in this movie are. Either the movie got edited to shreds in post-production, or the script writers simply had no idea what to do with any of the returning characters. Either way, congratulations to Lance Reddick for managing to get mid-tier billing for only saying a single line.

Thankfully though, as bafflingly awful as the humans are, it didn’t dampen my enjoyment or enthusiasm an ounce. Wingard delivers in spades the thing for which you paid your admission (or HBO Max subscription). The action leading up to it is overall excellent, including the first big brawl, but by the time we get to the neon-drenched battle in Hong Kong, the movie is positively vibrating with energy and it gets released in what is easily my favorite giant monster showdown of recent memory. I cackled like a madman so loudly on multiple occasions during this fight that I elicited stares from my fellow theater-goers.

Obviously this is not a perfect movie, but it is perfect at delivering what I wanted out of it and at a volume and tenor at which I wanted. Having been unable to watch movies in a theater for a year, I’m not sure I could have asked for much more.

[youngandanactress]

To clarify some thoughts/opinions I thought I’d post a few random things about myself?

I’m 18, and a sophomore in college (this is because I graduated High School a year early. I’m currently an online student because of Covid obvi 🙄)

I’m double-majoring in Political Science and Drama.

I was born and raised in the Pacific Northwest.

I’m planning on pursuing acting post-graduation. I was signed to an acting agency prior to college, but college students aren’t usually able to work professionally because of school schedules.

I’m cisgender, bisexual and my pronouns are she/her.

Alongside acting, I model because I’m needlessly tall (5’10) and I’m both ethnically and religiously (Reform) Jewish. My ethnicity means that I (according to some industry professionals, most of which being white men) apparently appear “somewhat ethnically ambiguous” or “exotic.” (I have 3b/3c natural/curly hair and a wide nose/nose bridge so I’m fairly obviously not “WASPy” in appearance. But my eyes aren’t brown and I’m tall so I apparently don’t fit the idea of what a Jewish woman “looks like.” Honestly, to most Jews I appear Jewish/Semitic. The label of “exotic” feels like poorly veiled antisemitism.)

I’m an intersectional feminist and a member of the ‘Democratic Socialists of America.’

I’m a fan of: Taylor Swift, Megan Thee Stallion and Kacey Musgraves. (I love Kacey and Taylor but hate, hate, hate almost all country music.)

I’m neurodivergent (I have fairly intense ADHD and ADD.)

I’m impatient, to my own self detriment, (and often unfortunately the detriment of others.)

Some of my Bridgerton-related favorites:

My favorite books:

#1: TVWLM (by far. It’s not even fucking close.)

#2: RMB and TSPWL tie (I wish TSPWL was longer and I dislike the allusions to domestic violence in RMB.)

#3: WHWW (I think it’s one of the best written books, but I feel like certain parts are longer than necessary.)

My favorite couples:

#1: Kathony and Polin “duke it out” ;), but I’m currently in a Kathony mood because of S2. I somehow actually prefer show-Polin to book-Polin thus far. Probably because Nicola and Luke N are adorable.

#2: Franchael and Philoise tie. As morose as it sounds, I love the whole “sunshine after the rain” theme. (Another reason I’m drawn to Kathony.) There’s added complexity given the sanctuary-like environment aforementioned relationships provide to the characters in them.

#3: Hyacinth/Gareth. I love them. Truly, deeply, loudly. However IIHK is lacking to me because the narration feels incomplete.

My favorite characters:

#1. Anthony and Kate tie. I never thought I could love Kate Sharma/Sheffield more and then Simone Ashley was cast. I feel that oftentimes Romance authors allocate too little time to developing complex individual characters, and instead choose to simply focus on developing the relationship between them. Kate and Anthony are independently gorgeous and vivid characters, which is why their relationship is so poetic and legendary.

#2. Michael Sterling. If Dev Patel isn’t at least considered for the role, I’m going to cry. Michael pines for Francesca for such a long time, and yet it’s never creepy or manipulative. The standards for men are on the fucking ground, but Michael’s extraordinary and I love him deeply.

#3. In no particular order: Hyacinth, Penelope and Francesca. I love all three of these women, and hope to god that Frannie gets more screen time in S2. I also hope that we see Penelope recognize the power she wields, and the ramifications of her actions. It feels slightly difficult to reconcile S1 Penelope with book-Penelope, and I hope we see her mature in S2.

#4. Colin and (show) Benedict tie. I love book AND show Colin. However, somehow the show depiction of Benedict is even more enchanting than the book version. This is likely due to the innate talent and acting ability of Luke T.

#5. Mary Sharma/Sheffield. I’m a Jew so my opinion regarding the topic of sainthood is irrelevant but, the woman’s a SAINT. I want show Mary to be slightly more ‘mama bear’ than mentioned in the books. I would like for her to maternally chastise/contradict Kate (regarding some of Kate’s more denigrating/insecure comments about herself.)

[subspace]

GODZILLA VS. KONG

What do you want out of a movie where a gigantic ape with a magic axe goes toe-to-toe with a nuclear-powered lizard? How you answer this question is the key to whether or not you will experience maximum enjoyment from a movie like "Godzilla vs. Kong".

I’ve never been one to advocate the “just turn off your brain and have fun” approach to movie watching. I think every movie should actively try to engage its audience in some meaningful way beyond (pun intended) lizard-brained mindless spectacle. But we do not live in that world, and when a movie comes along that doesn’t even attempt to provide even a fortune cookie’s worth of thematic depth or meaning and instead focuses purely on going hard into the paint for MONKEY PUNCH LIZARD … well, I honestly have to respect it. 

And boy does it go hard. 

Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t seen a movie on the big screen in nearly a full year. It was, admittedly, a near-overwhelming experience seeing these gigantic mythological creatures duke it out in an image size taller than my house. But the impact of each instance of Godzilla and King Kong coming to blows felt at an echelon above most blockbuster spectacle of late. 

City-annihilating, CGI destruction-fests are absolutely nothing new, and the advances in technology make literally anything possible and even believable now. Following in the footsteps of 2014’s “Godzilla,” “Kong: Skull Island” and “Godzilla: King of the Monsters,” the action in "Godzilla vs. Kong" has a weight to it that simply cannot exist when the subjects in focus are sized as mere mortals. Director Adam Wingard manages to deliver a sense of immersion to the mayhem here that I found overall lacking in many of the previous films. It feels more personal, in a way, which is an odd thing to say about a movie like this. 

Though perhaps it shouldn’t be all that odd. After all, Kong is back at the forefront once more and this version of the great ape has always felt like more of a character than Godzilla in his most recent appearances. By design and, in some ways, necessity, Godzilla is more of a force of nature, an event to behold and survive rather than anything one could possibly begin to identify with. But there’s a humanity to Kong that’s evoked both in Skull Island and here that you can’t help but attach to, even if you’re firmly on #TeamGodzilla. 

As such, throwing Kong face- (and fist) first into an all-out, no-holds-barred brawl for titan supremacy makes the proceedings feel much more interesting than the shodowns in “Godzilla” ‘14 or “King of the Monsters,” all of which felt more detached. There’s no way or reason to invest in who won in those films since at the end, it’s still an uncontrollable monster that comes out on top. But by giving us someone to root for with Kong now in the mix makes the battles feel more dangerous and meaningful, in a way. 

If you’re wondering why I haven’t talked about the plot or even the set up, well, that’s because there’s barely anything resembling as such. 

We pick things up a couple years after Godzilla became reigning kaiju champion and the titular king of the monsters upon ripping Ghidora asunder. Humanity seems to have accepted its status as, at best, observers of Godzilla, ostensibly under his protection from any remaining so-called Titans. However, after he destroys a research plant for the mega-corporation Apex, Godzilla is deemed an imminent threat and Kong is brought out of hiding as a possible means to stop him. 

There are other machinations involving Hollow Earth Theory, mystical power sources, etc. and the humans who get tangled up in all of it, but none of it matters. And I don’t mean that in a metaphorical sense. I mean that you could (and probably should) cut out everything involving Madison (Millie Bobbie Brown), her father (Kyle Chandler) and the two conspiracy nuts who follow her around out of the movie entirely and nothing of value or importance would be lost. In fact, it’d only help make the movie get to the good stuff faster. 

The human presence in these movies has largely been a hindrance, but it’s frankly astonishing just how useless and pointless 80 percent of the humans in this movie are. Either the movie got edited to shreds in post-production, or the script writers simply had no idea what to do with any of the returning characters. Either way, congratulations to Lance Reddick for managing to get mid-tier billing for only saying a single line. 

Thankfully though, as bafflingly awful as the humans are, it didn’t dampen my enjoyment or enthusiasm an ounce. Wingard delivers in spades the thing for which you paid your admission (or HBO Max subscription). The action leading up to it is overall excellent, including the first big brawl, but by the time we get to the neon-drenched battle in Hong Kong, the movie is positively vibrating with energy and it gets released in what is easily my favorite giant monster showdown of recent memory. I cackled like a madman so loudly on multiple occasions during this fight that I elicited stares from my fellow theater-goers. 

Obviously this is not a perfect movie, but it is perfect at delivering what I wanted out of it and at a volume and tenor at which I wanted. Having been unable to watch movies in a theater for a year, I’m not sure I could have asked for much more. 

[lavenderradionoises]

Can You Hear the Winds Changing?

Warnings: mentions of war, mentions of past abuse

Horses trotted through the streets, the knights holding themselves proudly as they marched off to their next campaign. The city populace gathered at the edges to wish the knights a safe journey and luck with beating Stozia, a neighboring kingdom to the West. At the front, the king led his knights with an expression that did not match the crowd’s mood—a face of remorse and anger.

Iiaare watched the men leaving the main gate from the shadows of the mansion’s balcony, hoping that there would be no punishment for stopping her work to watch.

A door slammed open somewhere on the first floor. Iiaare took this as a sign to hide any signs of her sneaking away and get back to work. Just as she picked up the cloth from the water bucket, the door to the dance hall flew open.

“Get up. Your new employer will be here soon to pick you up,” said the man, barging in without so much as a greeting.

Iiaare simply nodded. It wasn’t not like she could say anything anyway. It was always like this, being traded from employer to employer like a doll. One would get annoyed that she couldn’t speak and sell her to the highest bidder somewhere in the city.

After quickly finishing the dance hall, Iiaare had just enough time to pack the few clothes she owned before being ushered out the door and into a carriage, making sure to keep her head down.

In the 15 years Iiaare had worked as a servant, she had picked up the skills to assess her employer by the way they would greet her. While her first meeting with an employer could usually tell her the tone of their interactions from then on, Iiaare learned long ago not to hope for someone kind. The fact that a carriage picked her up revealed her employer’s social status, as not very many could afford such a luxury. The man’s presence confused Iiaare, as it wasn’t customary for the actual employer to pick up a servant. The mud and specks of blood caked on his shoes gave evidence of a recent hunt. The man’s hello when she entered the carriage told her that he had some respect for those he employed.

“My name is Aion. The count told me of your condition. Is there a name you prefer to go by?” the man asked. 

Iiaare’s eyes widened. It was the first time someone asked for her name, even among her kinder employers.

Aion chuckled before asking, “I’ll take that as a yes. Do you know how to read and write?” 

Iiaare shook her head. 

The man responded with a kind smile and told her that he would make sounds until he got all the ones that spell out her name. Her job was to nod or shake her head in response.

The rest of the carriage ride was spent on Aion guessing her name. When the carriage stopped, the two had “Iiaar” sounded out.“ Are there any more sounds?” the man asked. Iiaare nodded, and Aion began to list off various endings. When he found the correct one, Iiaare pointed at him, indicating that he got her name. Tears welled up in her eyes. Many years had passed since someone outside of her memory had said her name.

“It’s a beautiful name,” Aion complimented as he left the carriage, offering his hand when his feet made contact with the cobblestone ground. When Iiaare took it, she did not expect to step out onto the palace’s courtyard. Her disbelief must have shown on her face because Aion let out another chuckle.

“I guess I haven’t fully introduced myself,” He started before bowing slightly, “My name is Aion Nexros, prince of Nemothage and duke of Ievdal. You have been hired to attend to my sister, princess of Nemothage.” 

Iiaare’s eyes widened as she took a step back. She may have been used to working in noble houses, but the royal household? Never in her wildest dreams. 

The prince led her through the palace, the other staff ignoring them but still freeing up the middle for the two. Perks of paying the people’s wages, Iiaare guessed.

The palace was beautiful. Flower vases stood on every open surface, giving life to halls that would otherwise seem cold and bare. Some walls had tapestries so vibrant, Iiaare almost thought they were windows to a world filled with birds made of fire and starlight.  

After climbing many winding staircases, Aion stopped before a set of doors to knock. A brunette with light blue eyes, looking not much older than Aion, answered the door.

“Aion, to what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, smiling before narrowing her eyes. “Come to steal more of my things?” 

Aion took a deep breath, “No, Usta, I didn’t come to steal your things, will you let that go? That was one time, how was I supposed to know that you had a specific set of jewelry for Seeing? Last time I checked, you only used rubies during rituals. You expecting me to know that you shifted to using sapphires is ridiculous.”

“Or, get this, you could not take my things when trying to woo some random courtier.” 

“But you use jewelry to woo people all the time!”

“Because they’re my things. You want to woo Lady Ovodona, you go to the market and buy your own sapphires.”

Iiaare shifted uncomfortably as the two continued to bicker, not sure what she should be doing. It was one thing to walk in on two people arguing when you knew your way around the estate or had jobs to complete. It was another when you didn’t know where you were working or what you needed to do.

As Aion made another jab, Usta glanced at Iiaare and back at Aion. “Who’s the girl?” she interrupted.

“This is Iiaare,” Aion introduced. “She’s father’s apology for what happened to Nyrastil.”

Usta pursed her lips. “I see.” 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Aion stated, winking at Iiaare before heading back down the hallway from which the two came.

Usta seemed to physically deflate when the prince left. She gave Iiaare a once over before sighing, “Come in, I guess.”

The room was spacious with a large four poster bed pushed against the back wall, a vanity standing between the two windows that Iiaare guessed opened up into the courtyard, and a changing screen that covered an alcove across from the bed. Usta made her way in that direction, first stopping at the cabinet to the changing screen’s right.

“Do you know how to lace up gowns?” the woman asked, facing away from Iiaare. Iiaare nodded.

Usta turned to face Iiaare, one eyebrow raised. Iiaare hurriedly nodded again, though the action caused Usta to narrow her eyes.

“Speak, would you?” she ordered, tone exasperated.

Iiaare lowered her eyes to the floor. She raised her hands to her mouth before taking the first two fingers of her right hand and dragging them against the middle part of her left fingers—the action used by those who have had their tongue cut out. 

Usta gasped. Getting one’s tongue cut out was often reserved for those who had committed a misdemeanor, thievery, or a major crime in a village outside of the kingdom’s capital, where the alternative was decapitation or death by fire

Iiaare watched as Usta’s movements became more guarded and tense as her eyes flicked to spots around the room where Iiaare guessed something of value was stored. 

Moments like these made Iiaare yearn for the privilege of writing. She wanted to explain that she was not a thief, that all she did was stand against the village governor, for a girl she barely knew. She was no thief, but her refusal to stay silent and watch a little girl be burned at the stake for trying to survive led to her losing her tongue and being sold to a nearby noble to work as a glorified slave at barely the age of ten.

But it was no use. After 15 years, Iiaare had learned to ignore the annoyance and pain of being misjudged--there was no use trying. 

Usta’s eyes found Iiaare’s, snapping the princess back to what she was doing doing before discovering Iiaare’s open secret. Usta moved behind the changing screen, seeming casual and unaffected by the information, if one ignored the suddenly tense muscles in the princess’s shoulders.

After changing, the woman emerged in a complex white gown.Above the dress’s flowing skirt and draping sleeves, which nearly touched the floor, Iiaare noticed that the bodice was laced in the back. Iiaare quickly fell back into the role of a servant, lacing up the gown with practiced hands. The royal nodded before making her way to the vanity.

“I have a Seeing session to attend. My hair must  be out of the way but not done in the same extravagance expected at a feast.” Usta ordered. There was an edge in her voice, as well as a sense of urgency.

Iiaare could only nod. Her hands reached for the brunette’s long hair and began braiding it, weaving in a white ribbon from the vanity to help secure the hairdo. Once the braid was completed, Iiaare wrapped it around the back of Usta’s head, giving the already ethereal look a halo effect. 

The princess gave Iiaare a simple nod through the mirror before exiting the room. When she noticed that the newly hired servant was not following, Usta gestured towards the door with her head.

“Come along. I doubt that flirt Aion told you what your job is, so I will do that for him.”

Iiaare’s eyes widened at the lack of sharpness in Usta’s voice but she followed all the same, being sure to keep a couple of steps behind the princess.

“My friend, the maid before you were hired, was executed for false accusations of conspiring with Stozia, the kingdom that my father, the king, and his army left to meet swords with. When the true identity of the conspirator was discovered, my father promised me a new maid,” Usta smiled, though her eyes betrayed the sadness she felt. “Like that would change anything, especially since you are her supposed replacement.”

Iiaare may not know the intricacies of court. Still, she understood the implication clearly enough: without the ability to speak or write, everyone could tell her their deepest secrets, and they would never be spread. If by some chance they were, then Iiaare would be hunted down and executed immediately.

“Your job will be to accompany me whenever I go, as well as to take care of my things. Where laundry is done, I don’t know, but that is included as well. During feasts, you are going to be tasked with keeping my glass full, along with others who are there. Food will be taken care of by other servants, so you need only to make sure I get food when I request it.” Usta listed off each responsibility with a bored tone.

Iiaare could only nod, though she doubted the royal saw her.

Usta continued to list off the jobs required as a royal servant, many of which Iiaare had completed in the past. At some point, the two reached an entrance to what the servant could only guess is a tower.

“This is the Firebird Tower, the most sacred structure in the city. All my visions come to me when I am in the innermost chamber. You are to stay here and wait until I’m done. If anyone asks you what you are doing, simply make this sign with your hands,” Usta pressed the heels of her hands together before placing her thumb to the center of her middle finger, leaving the rest of her fingers raised to the ceiling, “and they will know that you are waiting for me while I am in the Firebird Tower.”

Iiaare copied Usta’s hands. It was an easy enough gesture. When the latter left to attend to her duties, Iiaare took a moment to rest against the pale stone of the palace interior. 

So much had happened in the past day. A prince picked her up in a carriage to serve a princess, said princess gave Iiaare the cold shoulder before acting like the two had known each other for days rather than minutes, found out the royal family knew of her lack of speaking capabilities, and she still had no idea what was in store for the rest of the day.

The hall leading the tower was quiet and void of people. The sound of rustling trees and a faraway marketplace made their way through the open windows on Iiaare’s left but filtered as white noise. 

Leaning further against the wall, the servant closed her eyes. The silence was her constant companion, but it was rarely enough to warrant a frozen moment in time. A few seconds of absolute stillness, where she could relax her guard and think about nothing.

Iiaare’s eyes snapped open, and she straightened up. She was in a new environment; the last thing she should do is relax and drop her guard. 

Just as she finished criticizing herself, the sounds of boots clicking against stone echoed through the hall. Turning to face the noise, Iiaare found herself facing Aion. The man had an easy smile on his face as he made his way towards her.

“So how was it?” he asked.

Iiaare tilted her head, unsure what he meant.

“Your first dealing with Usta. She’s a lot, isn’t she?”

Before Iiaare could think of a response, the sound of feet running down flights of stairs echoed through the hall. A blur of white and brown grabbed at Aion, forcing him to stumble back a few steps. A confused expression spread across the princes’ face. 

On the other hand, the princess trembled, her shoulders shaking as she gripped at Aion’s shirt.

“Please,” Iiaare’s eyes widened at the weak voice that left Usta, “please stay. Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.”

[vikingpoteto]

problem solver

Read on AO3

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Relationships:  GEN. Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne

Summary: Tim's job has always been fixing things up, giving everyone backup, making sure there is a contigency plan for the contigency plan and everything runs smoothly. However, even the best of them ought to grow exhausted and maybe - just maybe - Tim needs to learn that, when you have your family's back, they're willing to return the favor.

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He had had nightmares that felt sweeter than the present.

Even with his arm twisted in a painful lock behind his back and his  cheek pressed to the ground, Tim doesn’t feel anything but fatigue. He thinks to himself that it’s been a while since the last time Jason had held him like that, like Tim was the enemy.

Tim doesn’t blame him, though. Even from where he is, he can see Dick kneeling next to Damian’s limp body. It’s a shame that Cass wasn’t around, really, she would’ve been fast enough to stop Tim. Or perhaps Duke, with his powers. But maybe not. They wouldn’t expect Tim to do that, so even the fastest of them wouldn’t have stopped him once he started moving.

There is a puddle of blood on the ground ant that’s an unpleasant sight.

Just that.

Unpleasant.

Damian isn't moving and Tim just wishes he didn’t have to see it.

“ Timothy ,” Jason hisses. When he notices Tim isn’t fighting, he  loosens his grip a bit. When Tim still doesn’t move, Jason turns him around abruptly and shakes him by the shoulders. “Tim, what the fuck was that? Who did this to you? Who’s controlling you?”

Right. Of course Jason’s mind would go there. Jay had been out of control before, after all, he still didn’t believe Tim had done such a horrible thing. He should feel good that his brother has that much faith in him, but, again, it feels like nothing.

“It was me,” Tim says, his voice weak. “It was all me. I’m such a failure, aren’t I? But it’s fine. None of this is real.”

Tim had never seen Jason looking so horrified. He likes that about as much as the puddle of blood.

“It’ll be over soon,” Tim assures, and he glances at the giant computer screen. The clock says 00:59. It changes to 01:00. He closes his eyes just as he feels Jason’s hands leaving him.

He opens his eyes again. He’s still in the cave. Jason has retreated several steps and is now staring at Tim like never before, an emotion so intense he doesn’t know how to name. He turns around. Dick is now cradling Damian in his arms, but the boy is still not moving even as his older brother pathetically calls his name.

Tim doesn’t like that either, so closes his eyes again.

He opens his eyes. Nothing’s changed. He stares at the computer. 01:01, says the clock, but Tim isn’t waking up.

“Why am I not waking up?”

No one answers him. He still doesn’t wake up. Dick starts openly sobbing, but Damian doesn’t open his eyes to tell him to stop being a baby. Tim doesn’t wake up and Jason doesn’t approach him again and Tim doesn’t dare look at him, because he’s suddenly aware that Jason looking at him like that hurts a lot. Tim doesn’t wake up, but neither does Damian and he’s slowly realizing he’s the one that’s done that and nothing is happening to change that and that hurts more.

Tim is a problem solver. He had come to the Wayne Manor, joined the BatFamily because he was going to fix things, he was supposed to keep everyone safe-

Tim wakes up. He’s alone on his bed. The phone on the bedside table says it’s 1am, sharp.

On that night, Bruce is awake, as he is most nights. It isn’t his turn to patrol. He could be in his bed now, using the night off to get some rest.

However, as much as he chastises Tim for his (lack of) sleeping habits, Bruce can’t sleep, not even when he isn’t on duty. Especially when he isn’t on duty. He stalls, ignores Dick’s judgemental looks and ends up at the Batcave going over a cold case that might be active again, his eldest on his shoulder. He’ll sleep as soon as Cassandra and Duke come home.

Damian is at the computer reading a police report and Bruce has half a mind to send him to bed - he’s still figuring out the most efficient way to do so - when he hears rushed footsteps.

“DAMIAN!” Tim shouts from the entrance, his voice echoes horribly against the silence.

Bruce lets out a tired sigh, wondering what sort of prank it was this time. He watches as Tim darts down into the cave and makes a beeline to Damian, Bruce and Dick tensing up and getting ready to intervene in a fight as Damian jumps to his feet and stands on guard to… be wrapped tightly into Tim’s arms.

“Drake, what is the meaning of this?” Damian gasps, his voice breaking in his confusion.

Only then Bruce notices Tim’s shoulders are shaking. Tim squeezes his little brother tighter against his chest and lets himself fall to his knees, dragging Damian down a bit.

“Cease this absurd behavior right away!” Damian demands, glancing at Bruce and Dick as though expecting them to do something.

Both of them had been stunned into inaction, however.

“Y-you’re here,” Tim chokes out. Tim is crying. “I thought I- I thought I lost you.”

Damian’s eyes grow wide in utter panic. He finally wraps his tiny arms around the other boy. He again looks at his father in a silent, but clear plea of help.

As usual, Dick is faster to recover. “Timmy?” He calls, approaching his brothers and crouching down by their side. “Timmy, what’s going on?”

Tim simply shakes his head, his face buried into Damian’s chest and his body still trembling. Bruce knows Tim has been through a lot. All of them have. He knows Tim particularly is familiar with loss. Still, Bruce doesn’t remember ever seeing Tim breaking down like that.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers, “I’m so sorry, Dami, I really thought I- I-”

“You what? What has gotten into you, you energum?”

“I- I thought you were dead,” Tim whispers.

That finally shocks Bruce into moving. One of his children is breaking down in front of him, he has to do something. He joins Dick by kneeling in front of his youngest sons and slowly reaches for Tim’s shoulder.

“Tim, Damian is here. He’s safe. You both are,” he says.

Tim lets out a strangled laughter without any humor and Bruce doesn’t want to hear such a horrible sound ever again. “N-not thanks to me, he isn’t.”

Dick makes as if he’s going to try to pry Tim off of Damian to be able to see his face. Damian glares him down before he can do anything. Dick settles for squeezing his brother’s other shoulder and asking in a soft voice:

“Timmy, can you explain what’s going on? Did you have a nightmare?”

“ God . I wish,” Tim sobs, his voice still muffled into his brother’s chest. “Except I can’t wake up. I never wake up, not for real. Th-this why I don’t like sleeping.”

At loss, Dick turns to Bruce, worry twisting his expression and confusion in his eyes. As their father, Bruce should have answers. He doesn’t have answers. He simply watches his teenage son shake in utter grief no child should be so familiar with and he is powerless and confused. It feels awful to just sit back and know there is something for him to do, however it’s outside of his knowledge.

“C-compose yourself, Drake,” Damian tries again. But his voice is weaker now, a little hoarse. His little arms are still awkwardly looped around Tim and his gaze shows he’s petrified.

Dauntless and brash Damian looks like the 12-year-old he is, confused and scared. Damian, Bruce realizes, had never seen Tim breaking down. Tim is his rival, his infuriatingly logical and calculating brother that can take any situation swiftly and solve any problem by sheer force of will. Tim, that never wavered, even when Damian was trying his hardest to crack him.

Bruce can’t wallow in self-pity about his parental skills now. His pride is nowhere near as important as his children. “Tim,” he asks, being careful to keep his voice calm and collected. “Son, talk to me. What do you need from us?”

What he needs, what he wants. Whatever it is, Bruce will get it.

Tim hesitantly pulls away from Damian without letting him go. When he turns to his father, it takes every bit of Bruce’s strength to keep his calm mask. There are  bags darker than usual under Tim’s clear eyes, his nose is crimson red and his usually bony face is puffy from so much crying. His helpless expression breaks Bruce’s heart in a million pieces.

“Jason,” Tim says, his voice hefty. “Bring Jason here. Please.”

Dick is already moving before Tim finishes his request. Bruce stays with his son.

“He’ll be here soon,” he says, certain. His last encounter with Red Hood had been less than ideal, but Bruce knows Jason won’t ignore a call from Dick and he especially won’t hesitate to come for Tim. “What else?”

“Just J-Jason. It has to be Jay.”

“That’s not what it looks like,” Damian mumbles, still caught in Tim’s embrace.

Tim lets out a little chuckle. Again it’s hollow, humorless. Bruce hates it.

“I’m sorry, Dami,” Tim mutters. “Just… Just a little bit more. I need this.”

“Tt. Do what you must."

Jason was asleep when he got the call. He wants to tell his brother to fuck off and go back to bed, but with their family business being like it is… Well. Jason knows it’s never a good idea to ignore a phone call. Dick sounded confused when he asked Jason to come over because Tim needs him and he couldn’t explain why.

It’s a good thing Jason doesn't need why. Dick says Tim is asking for him. Tim never asks for what he needs, not unless the world is ending. Jason was getting into his outfit and out of the door before Dick hangs up.

He doesn’t know what to expect when he rides into the cave. Dick assured him that Tim wasn’t physically hurt, he was just asking for Jason. He certainly didn’t expect to find his brother sitting on the computer chair with Damian on his lap.

It’d be cute if it wasn’t concerning. Damian is still short enough to sit there almost comfortably with Tim’s chin resting on his shoulder and Tim’s arms loosely wrapped around his middle. Damian has his arms crossed like the world's grumpiest teddy bear and a murderous expression that challenges Jason to laugh at the scene if he wishes for death.

Jason doesn’t laugh. Not when his eyes meet Tim’s and it’s clear that his brother had been crying not long ago. He ignores Bruce and Dick uselessly standing around and takes off his helmet before walking towards his younger brothers.

“What’s happening?” he asks.

When Tim speaks, his voice is almost to hoarse to recognize. “I’m stuck in a time loop.”

“Damn it. Again?”

His sarcastic reply makes Tim’s lips quirk up a bit. His expression returns to somber too fast for Jason’s liking.

“You’re the only one that always believes me right away,” Tim tells him.

As hypocritical as it is, Jason hates magic shit. Hates it.

“Alright. Let’s break your loop. What’s the last thing you remember before the loop?”

“It was 10pm. Alfred forced me to go to bed. Then I wake up three hours later and it starts.”

Jason glances at Bruce and Dick and they nod in confirmation that that’s their latests Tim memory too. He turns back to his brother.

“Alright. Any constants?”

While time loops are a first for them, they watched enough movies to know there is always something specific repeating itself.

Before answering, Tim hesitates and squeezes Damian again. Jason is surprised when the gremlin uncrosses his arms and awkwardly offers Tim a little pat on the hand.

“The thing that always happens is… You die.”

Jason goes stiff. He can hear Bruce and Dick reacting behind him, but he has to focus on keeping himself calm. Despite his own issues, this is still about Tim.

“Just me?” he asks, as casually as he manages.

“Just you.”

Slowly putting what he knows together, Jason glances at the protective way Tim is holding Damian. Of all of them to be stuck in a time loop, he thinks Tim is the most likely to think his way out. Of all of them, he has the best memory, he’s the one that finds it easier to put away his feelings in a little box and do what’s the best to be done. For him to be that distressed about Damian…

Jason doesn’t beat around the bush, the way he knows Tim prefers. “Tim, did you kill Damian on the last loop?”

Dick inhales sharply. Bruce doesn’t make any noise, but Jason figures he’s frozen in horror. Damian stares at Jason as if he’s gone mad as Tim squeezes him a bit tighter before slowly retreating into the chair. His arms are still around his younger brother, but all Damian had to do was to stand up and he’d be free of his hugging pillow duty. Damian doesn’t move, not even when Tim whispers:

“I did.”

Jason nods. He’s glad that Tim’s eyes are trained on his, because he doesn’t want to even imagine what kind of reaction Dick and Bruce are showing behind him.

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

Tim breathes in and out. “It was the seventy-first loop. You were teasing him over something stupid and he had that… that stupid katana. He said he was going to kill if you didn’t shut up and I...” At this point, he retreats fully into the chair, willingly putting distance between him and his little brother. “I didn’t think. I was on high alert for any threat, I just… I hit him with my staff. He fell. I hit him in the back of the head, and… he didn’t get up.”

Damian still doesn’t leave. His expression is unreadable.

“And… and I didn’t care. Dick was horrified, you restrained me and I just… I just got annoyed and waited. But then it was time, the loop didn’t restart and I-”

Tim runs out of breath and chokes on thin air, unable to continue for a moment. No one says anything, even Jason unsure of where to start. He also notices that the whole time Tim doesn't make any excuses for himself, like he does for the many people that hurt him in the past and he's forgiven. He doesn't use the word accident. He doesn't try to remind them he didn't mean to, even though he didn't. Jason thought Tim was making a lot of progress on the self-worth department lately, but apparently some steps backwards were taken.

“I thought it was over. I thought I cemented a timeline in which I killed my little brother. What kind of monster am I? How come my first instinct was to deadly wound anyone, let alone Damian? Then it restarted and… And I don’t know if I can do this anymore. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe you guys should put me-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Damian hisses. He turns to face Tim, his tiny arms tightly crossed again and his eyes steeled with conviction. “I thought you were supposed to be smart, Drake.”

“Damian,” Jason starts in warning.

Damian makes a gesture to silence him and continues: “How can you think that’s your first instinct? That was hardly the first thing you’ve done. What sounds to me is that you watched your favorite brother die seventy times and you were pushed to the extreme. I would not call that bloodlust.”

Tim blinks. “But I didn’t…”

“Of course you didn’t care. You thought it was inconsequential. After watching a family member’s gruesome death so many times, you’d be desensitized as a defense mechanism. That’s only logical. As soon as you thought it might be real, however, you reacted as expected and came to me crying like a child.”

No one says anything for a moment. Damian deliberately leans backwards, pressing his back to Tim’s stomach.

“Besides, it was an accident. You didn’t attack to kill, you attacked to incapacitate and miscalculated the amount of strength needed. It happens to the best of us.”

Jason could have smiled at the kid. He thinks his lips quirk up against his will when Damian grabs Tim’s hands and pulls them so he’s being held again. Confusion replaces the lost look on Tim’s face for a bit.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but the gremlin is right. You’re fine, Timbers,” Jason says.

For a horrible moment, blue eyes become watery and Jason feels as though there is a knife twisting in his gut. He doesn’t remember the last time he’d seen Tim crying. It’s not one of his favorite experiences.

“Timmy,” Dick starts, his voice soft. “How long is every loop?”

“About 24 hours,” Tim says. “It restarts exactly at 1am.”

“And in all of those loops… how many times have you stopped to sleep? Or eat?”

Tim stares at his older brother as though he’s speaking an alien dialect. Dick sighs.

“Well, buddy, it sounds like you’ve been awake for 2 hellish months.”

“But… But I’m always in my room at 1am. Doesn’t that mean I got to sleep like Alfred wanted?”

“Well. We can’t know for sure, but you sure looks like someone that needs some rest,” Dick insists.

Tim tries to protest but Bruce walks to him and combs his fingers through his son’s hair. The touch is enough to shut him up.

“Let’s be practical, chum,” he says. “We need you to be okay to be able to help us. I don’t think you can as you are now. I need you to drink a glass of warm milk and take a nap for about an hour. While you rest, your brothers and I will do research into time anomalies. When you get up, you can join us. How’s that sound?”

A frown. Jason is ready to force him if he must. He resolves crumbles a bit when his little brother turns his gaze to him and asks in the smallest voice:

“Are you still going to be here when I wake up?”

Jason’s throat is clogged. He used to think that his early demise had been inconsequential and that hurt like hell. He didn’t think that it hurt just as much to learn that it mattered, that his family cared, that Tim cared so much, because Jason never ever wanted to be the reason behind that forlorn look in any of his brothers, let alone Tim. Tim who was always there for them, who always worked the hardest, who was Jason’s go0to prank partner, who laughed at his jokes and embraced him as family when he had every reason not to.

“I promise I will,” Jason manages. “You know I’m a man of word, Timbers.”

“We’ll take care of him for you,” Dick adds. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid until you’re back to scold him and all that.

Tim hesitates, glancing from one brother to the other and then to their father. He seems to try and assess his condition and recognizes he feels tired - if not physically, Jason doesn’t need to be a genius to know he must be emotionally exhausted. Finally, he nods.

Well, that had been a rollercoaster from start to… the middle? Damian doesn’t think this is the end per se. It’s best if they put their plan into action sooner better than later, so the boy finally jumps to his feet in order to leave his brother’s lap

“Very well,” he says, “I reckon I’m on Drake Duty, is that correct?”

“Drake Duty?” Timothy repeats, frowning.

Damian shoots him a haughty glare. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you, but you do have the habit of sneaking under our noses to do extra work when you’re supposed to be resting. I’ll be the one making sure you stay in your bed, as you should.”

Besides, Damian doesn’t think Timothy should be left alone as it is. Not that he minds, he just thinks the older boy is unstable and needs to be watched. He’s not worried, just cautious.

“Hm. I was actually going to take a nap at the reading den?” Timothy says. “I… I don’t want to be in my room right now.”

It’s to be expected that he wants to avoid the place where the loop starts, of course.

“Tim, you’re going to wreck your spine if you keep sleeping in the library,” Richard chastises gently.

Damian sighs. “If your room is the issue, mine should suffice, isn’t that right? You may take a rest in my bed.”

The surprised look Timothy gives him is outward insulting. Damian feels as though the others have the same expression, so his cheeks start getting warmer. Annoyed, he tuts and grabs Timothy's hand, starting to drag him away.

“Well? We should not be wasting time!”

“Uh. Yeah,” Timothy mutters. Then, sounding a bit more like his usual self, he tells the others: “We have yet to contact Doctor Fate or Zatanna, they do not pick up their phones. Constantine will answer if Dick’s the one calling, but the day restarted before we knew if he was any help. Bart and Wally have no idea about what’s going on, but uncle Barry had a hunch based on his last essay. Do not contact Booster Gold, his place is on fire and we wasted a lot of time putting it out and he was no help. … Maybe send someone there to help him?”

By then, Damian has successfully dragged Timothy out of the cave and their brothers and father were left to follow his directions. Damian briefly consideres forcing Timothy to sleep and joining them, but decides against it. Thomas and Cain should be joining them soon and he knows their father won’t rest until he finds an appropriate solution.

“You don’t have to do this, Dami,” Timothy says. “I promise I’ll actually sleep. I can take Jason’s bedroom instead. He hasn’t used it in ages, but I know Alfred didn’t leave it dusty.”

Damian ignores him.

“Really, you-”

“For someone that couldn’t let go of me until a couple of minutes ago, you’re sure talking a lot of nonsense,” Damian huffs. “I’m not Todd, but I know you enough that I'm sure that, the moment I leave your sight, you’re going to start torturing yourself.”

Timothy is silent after that. They go up the stairs like that and for the first time Damian doesn’t feel like a toddler while he holds someone’s hand. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s the one guiding or the strange situation. Despite everything, it isn’t entirely unpleasant. He considers for a moment telling Richard that he doesn’t hate hand-holding after all, but decides against it. Richard would definitely abuse that knowledge.

Alfred the cat is napping on Damian’s bed when they arrive. For a moment, Damian panics over having to kick out his precious pet - he has slept on the floor for Alfred before and he’d do it again - but, as soon as he sees his owner, Alfred mercifully stretches and moves to the bottom of the mattress, leaving plenty of free space.

Looking nothing like the, Damian begrudgingly admits, intimidating hero Red Robin, Timothy fumbles with the hem of his ratty hoodie and hesitates. The hoodie is purple and weirdly tight around the arms, so Damian suspects that it belongs to someone else. It gives him an idea.

“Do you need me to bring Brown over?” he asks.

Again, Timothy gives him a surprised look.

Stubbornly, Damian holds his gaze even when he feels his cheeks warming up. He knows he’s not suggesting anything outlandish, because he knows Brown’s unstoppable cheerfulness is on par with the Bats' unmoving angst. He also knows calling her is acceptable, because he heard Todd make the same suggestion once. Timothy was running himself to the ground over an unsolved case and snapped at Todd. Instead of putting Timothy in his place, Todd had simply rolled his eyes and asked Timothy in a whisper Damian is sure he wasn’t supposed to hear, do you want me to ask Steph to come over? and lo and behold, an hour later Brown was climbing inside and making a lot of noise. She forced Timothy to eat and the two ended up asleep together in the living room. On the following day, Timothy looked more like a human being.

“Steph is out of town,” Timothy says. “I tried calling her in a couple of loops. She’s always out of town.”

Oh.

If Brown isn’t around, Timothy has to settle for the next best thing, that would be… well, Todd. But Todd is busy, so the next best thing would be… Cain. Then Richard. … Then Thomas.

But alas! None of them are available so Damian will have to do.

“Well then,” he mumbles. “She’s too noisy anyway. Why are you still standing?”

Like a skittish stray, Timothy climbs beneath Damian’s blanket while Damian stands there, his hands on his hips and his foot tapping on the floor impatiently.

Once he’s settled, Timothy glances at him. “Are you going to just… stand there?”

Damian supposes it’s not ideal to try to sleep with a standing guard, is it? With another tut, he climbs into bed as well, glad that it’s big enough for the two of them and then some.

...then, seeing Timothy’s wide eyes, Damian realizes this isn’t the outcome he expected. Damian curses inwardly, because he can never predict what Timothy is thinking. Richard is ridiculously easy to read, as is Thomas. Todd and Cain he can understand to an extent. But Timothy? He’s a complete mystery.

“Hm. Dami, are…” Timothy struggles with his words. That’s a first. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”

Damian tries to kill him with a single glare. Timothy seems to find his expression amusing and relaxes a bit.

“Not like that, brat, you know I know you’re deadly, and all that. I mean… aren’t you wary of me after I said…”

“Do you want me to repeat the very solid arguments I already presented?”

“No, just… I get them, rationally. They make sense. But still.”

Damian sighs. “Still nothing. If that’s the case, shouldn’t you be wary of me? I did try to end you. Repeatedly.”

“That was a long time ago, though, we didn’t really know each other.”

“And, by all means, your traumatic experience was with a version of me I don't even know from a reality I’m not a part of. Go to sleep, Drake.”

They stay quiet for a moment. Timothy sits up abruptly. Before Damian can scold him, he grabs the alarm clock on the bedside table and sets it to go off one hour from now, which is smart, Damian will give him that. Then he glares until Timothy lies down again and they’re both on their sides, facing one another.

Alfred the cat stands again and comes lie down between the two boys. The room is completely silent save for soft purs and the even softer tick-tock coming from the nightstand.

Damian stares at his brother’s closed eyelids and he knows Timothy is wide awake.

“Do you really see me like that?” he hears himself whispering.

As expected, Timothy’s eyes shoot open. “Of course not, Dami.”

All right, ouch. That hurts.

“I know you would never hurt Jason,” Timothy proceeds. “That’s why I… that’s why I was so messed up. I knew you weren’t a real threat, not to him. But I still freaked, I still moved before I could think and I…”

Oh. Damian hadn’t considered that, but that’s reassuring. He nods briefly but soon adds:

“I don’t mean that. I mean what you said after.”

Timothy frowns. “What?”

“You know.”

“I really don’t.”

“Forget it.”

“No, Dami, what is it? You know I’m curious, I’m not gonna by able to sleep if you don’t tell me.”

The boy groans, because how is he the youngest in this situation?

“I meant… When you said I’m your little brother.”

“Oh.” Timothy blinks owlishly, his eyes growing big before his voice grows small:  “I mean… yeah. I know it’s not mutual, but… You’re part of my family, Damian. Sure, an annoying, cocky part, but… I like having you around. I still love you. I wouldn’t want to send you away or to hurt you or… anything like that.”

Damian makes a dismissive noise and looks away. Timothy used to be more bearable. He wouldn’t say out loud those things to anyone when Damian first arrived. It was his time with that gang of hooligans that were Jon’s brother and the other two that ruined Timothy. He came back home a lot more willing to let Richard cling to him and comfortable saying such embarrassing things to Cain and Pennyworth and Todd and… and now Damian.

“Dami, did you… did you think I don’t see you as a brother?” Timothy asks.

More mumbling. Damian isn’t avoiding his gaze because he’s embarrassed, but because Timothy’s icy stare can be so stupidly intense it’s uncomfortable.

“I thought I burned that bridge a couple of attempted murders ago,” he finally admits.

“That happened to a version of me from a reality I’m no longer a part of.”

Another frustrated noise. He buries his face into the pillow.

“Damian.” Timothy calls. Annoyingly, he waits until Damian looks at him. It’s a trick he learned from Richard, Damian is sure.  “You’re my little brother. For best or worse, I… I’ll never let something like the last loop happen. Ever.”

Damian doesn’t know what to say, so he remains silent. Timothy realizes he’s not getting any reply, so he simply closes his eyes again.

It seems unfair that Timothy has to make that whole speech when Damian is the one that’s supposed to be in charge. It feels like he’s losing somehow. Letting out a huff, Damian mutters:

“It is.”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not mutual. That’s ridiculous. You can’t be someone’s relative one-sidedly. Of course it’s mutual.”

It takes a second for his words to register, and, when they do, Timothy finally lets his lips twist into that annoying smirk he usually wears. He looks genuinely happy, albeit in a tired way.

“Ugh, do not let Richard hear about this,” Damian groans, closing his eyes and turning his back to his brother

“Goodness gracious, I would never.” Timothy chuckles. His sarcasm is less effective when his voice is still hoarse from all the crying. “In exchange, promise me you won’t forget that on the next loop.”

Goddamnit, Damian has to turn back. “There will be no next loop.”

“Hmm.”

“Timothy? Look at me.” He does. Damian sustains his gaze. “There will be no other loop. We’re going to fix this as soon as we wake up. You have my word.”

A little hesitation, a lot of fear of holding onto hope. Timothy reaches for Damian’s hand.

“I believe you. So. Am I Timothy now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Drake.”

“Thought so,” Tim says.

Tim allows himself to close his eyes. Damian’s hand is small and warm and undeniably alive. His older brothers are downstairs trying to fix this for him. His father is going to protect him, too. Soon his sister and his new brother will join them and there is no doubt in his mind that they’re going to have his back.

His family is going to solve it for him.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael After Midnight: C.H.U.D. & Us

Do you like horror? Do you feel for the plight of homeless people? Do you despise Ronald Reagan and everything he represents? Well congratulations! You have a functioning heart and mind! But you also might be in to the B-movie cult classic that is C.H.U.D. This is a film that has at least partially wormed its way into the cultural consciousness as the titular monsters have become something of a go-to descriptor for any sort of sewer-dweller as well as an insult used to describe alt-righters and other nasty bastards (it works too since alt-right people do often look like they crawled out of a sewer). Unless you’re a cult film aficionado though, you may not have actually sat down and watched this film, which is a shame, as it definitely has quite a bit to offer.

But you know who almost certainly HAS watched this film? Beloved filmmaker, comedian, and actor Jordan Peele! And I know this because his second feature film Us is pretty much a semi-remake of C.H.U.D. No, I’m not joking. I would never fuck around about something as serious as trashy B-movies and Jordan Peele films. This is serious business right here. These movies are pretty similar thematically and even slightly plot-wise, but at the same time their different approaches really help set them apart and make each film great in their own right.

The big thing with C.H.U.D. is its function as a criticism towards the Reagan-era treatment of the homeless and the mentally ill. Homeless people are portrayed very sympathetically, with them going missing being what really kicks things off… or it would be, if anyone in power gave a damn. No, the people in power only start caring when people they start caring about go missing. Things go from bad to worse when it’s revealed that the C.H.U.D.s are not only mutated homeless people, but that the United States government is complicit in their transformation, having decided to dump toxic waste into the sewers. Aside from giving Jason Takes Manhattan’s ending some level of plausibility, this is a pretty brutal showcase of how society treats the less fortunate, and especially how the government treats them. As far as B-movies go, this one has the most instantly believable problem causing the monsters.

And it is similar with Us. The film has a much broader application than Peele’s previous film Get Out, which is pretty blatantly about left-wing condescending racism. But the way the Tethered function, their nature as failed experiments left behind by the government to rot, and their desire to simply be given all that they had been denied because the powers that be deemed them less worthy is not just stellar thematically, it is the sort of message that in this day and age is needed more than ever. Reagan is long dead and burning in Hell, but the evil he perpetuated still stands.

The big reveal at the end – which I WILL refrain from spoiling – changes the entire perspective of the film and showcases the Tethered as not just victims, but people who if given half a chance could easily excel in the upper world. But they were denied this chance, shunned as mindless monsters, and then are we to vilify them when they rise up to take what they deserve? Both of these films certainly show their “monsters” as vicious and violent, but ultimately they are merely scared, terrified beings lashing out at those who have oppressed and hurt them, intentionally or otherwise.

Both films certainly do show the oppressed commit monstrous actions, but it never really stops sympathizing with them, instead (rightfully) demonizing the government and the people who constantly put them in those positions of oppression. C.H.U.D. certainly is more cathartic, featuring the major government antagonist being not only shot but blown up, but it also tends to feel a tad more exploitative, what with literal homeless people being mutated, though I must stress the movie doesn’t demonize the homeless and paints them as sympathetic victims of a cruel, unfeeling government who just decides to kill ‘em all to cover up their own fuckup. This is one of the single most realistic depictions of government ever put on film, and for that C.H.U.D. deserves some praise. Us certainly paints a more sympathetic picture for its “monsters,” beginning with the story Red tells her captive audience, and while the reveal of their true nature is a bit more sloppily executed than the reveal of C.H.U.D. it still manages to bear down with the full weight of its allegorical impact with late-game revelations.

Another interesting thing with C.H.U.D.: the monsters don’t even appear all that much. When they do, they look absolutely fantastic; the suits are stunning achievements of practical effects, though the scene where one stretches its neck out is a bit dubious. But for the most part, even at the film’s climax, the C.H.U.D.s are mostly absent, with a “less is more” approach being used in regards to them. I don’t recall there ever really being more than four or so onscreen at once, and there’s no massive invasion of monsters. Honestly, it helps keep the film from feeling like a bloated spectacle, and the fact the film slowly builds up to the monsters appearing after a brief appearance in the start really helps them feel more memorable and iconic than other forgotten throwaway monsters of the 80s, while at the same time letting the mystery, atmosphere, and grimy New York backdrop congeal and allowing the message of the film to just ooze over and permeate you.

Us, on the other hand, keeps the Tethered front and center starting at the second act, but in this case this is a good thing; the Tethered have a lot more personality, seeing as they are essentially fully human, where the C.H.U.D.s are mutated humans whose last vestiges of humanity were washed away by the waste the government hid beneath the streets. Lupita Nyong’o in particular is masterful as Red, and is incredibly skilled to be able to pull off playing two roles who frequently share the screen and who are essentially copies of each other while still managing to make them distinct and different. Tim Heidecker and Winston Duke too really do a grand job as their Tethered counterparts, in Heidecker’s case probably more than his regular person character (not to say he’s bad, but seeing Heidecker selling a creepy killer is a lot more impressive than seeing him play a douchebag husband).

Out of the two, I think it goes without saying that Us is the better film. It has all around better acting, it has the most incredible foreshadowing I have ever seen with every little thing foreshadowed getting a satisfying payoff, it has a great soundtrack, it has some moderately enjoyable humor, it’s paced very well… but here’s the thing: C.H.U.D.s big reveal of the true nature of its monsters is a bit better executed. A lot of people get hung up on how Us overexplains the origin of its monsters, and while it certainly doesn’t bother me because the Tethered are still an effective allegorical implement regardless of their in-universe origin, I can’t help but feel the reveal that the government mutating homeless people into cannibalistic sewer monsters and then just… not giving a shit about it was just a bit better executed. However, I feel like watching C.H.U.D. actually helps improve the big reveal at Us by token of being so similar that the latter’s twist becomes far easier to swallow.

Both of these movies are great for what they’re going for. Jordan Peele’s Us is a fantastic horror film that uses the genre as a way to showcase the effect privilege has on those without it, whether you intend it to or not; C.H.U.D. is a classic B-movie that, while perhaps still a bit exploitative, is ultimately incredibly sympathetic to the plight of the homeless as well as extremely critical of the government that would put them in such danger. Both films are fantastic in their own right, and I highly recommend both to any horror fans, especially those who love some sweet, sweet allegory alongside their brutal murders.

Both of these films are some of my favorites for really pushing the boundaries of what a horror film can do, story-wise. I think C.H.U.D. is a bit more ambitious in some ways, being a pretty direct attack on the Reagan-era government, as well as being relatively sympathetic to lower class people in a time when that wasn’t really the norm. For its time, it really is an impressive work, while Us, while certainly delivering a message that has strong impact, is a bit more open to interpretation and honestly lacking a bit of the gut punch that Peele’s Get Out had in terms of conveying and delivering said message. Still, I think Us is just better for refining what C.H.U.D. was trying to do and delivering it in a more polished form with better actors, a better budget, and just overall more intelligence and visual flair… which is not to say C.H.U.D. was lacking either, as it paints an incredibly dark and grimy picture of New York that I absolutely love, it’s just that it’s hard to deny that Peele is just a better filmmaker than the director of C.H.U.D. and really knew what he was doing. But again: both fantastic films in their own right, and both definitely worth watching.

[camillemontespan]

the making of drake walker [interview]

@jovialyouthmusic @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @sirbeepsalot @moonlightgem7 @pug-bitch @burnsoslow @ibldw-main @mskaneko @emceesynonymroll @katedrakeohd @emichelle @notoriouscs @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @star-spangled-eyes @drakesensworld @gardeningourmet @rainbowsinthestorm @stopforamoment @dcbbw @iplaydrake @drakewalkerisreal @nazariortega

DRAKE THE DILF!!!

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

The Duke of Valtoria gives a deep chuckle as he studies the screen that shows the photographs of him for this interview. He points at the photograph that will become our chosen cover and says with his face blushing, 'My wife will frame that one.'

I look at the photograph and avert my eyes. It's a good picture of the Duke of Valtoria. It's completely different to most stiff upper lipped Dukes who have been our interview subjects before - for one thing, he is standing in a swimming pool with a white t-shirt that has gone see through, showing off his broad chest and muscles. He is the complete opposite of what you imagine a Duke to look like and I have to say that the change is very much welcome.

He's wearing a denim shirt now and his hair has been dried. We sit down at the bar by the hotel pool and he orders two coffees for us.

Drake Walker has been the Duke of Valtoria for five years. In this time, he has married the woman of his dreams, become a father to two children and set up a mental health campaign which has exploded into something much bigger than he anticipated - more on this later. He has had a busy five years and I wonder how he feels.

'I feel really good,' he tells me with a warm smile. 'Genuinely really good. I finally feel comfortable in my own skin which has been a long time coming, believe me.’ 

I’m meeting him today to discuss the expansion of his mental health campaign, Mind over Matter. What started as a small campaign to raise awareness of mental health in men has now switched up a gear and is being made into a registered charity. 

In case you missed it (have you been living under a rock?) Mind over Matter is a mental health campaign which involved Drake, his friends and men in Cordonia going on outdoor activities. What was mocked as simply being a glorified 'boys weekend' was suddenly praised when Drake had the idea to Vlog their activities. As the men trekked up mountains, abseiled, kayaked etc, they opened up and started talking about their worries, fears and hopes. It became a safe space for men who felt like they couldn't share feelings. Maxwell Beaumont admitted that he still thought about his mother who passed away when he was ten years old, but he didn't want to burden his brother. Drake told him to be honest because 'you are brothers, you're blood. Share the load.' As they talked, a charity donation line was set up so viewers could donate money to various mental health charities. It became a huge deal and it was all the brainchild of Drake Walker. Did he see this coming?

'Never in a million years,' he answers honestly. 'But now it's happened? I want to go bigger. I want it to become one of the main charities in Cordonia. If there's a guy out there struggling with depression, anxiety, alcoholism, anything, I want him to know he can contact Mind over Matter so he can speak to a qualified health professional and get the help he needs. I don't want anyone else to feel as alone as I did.'

I ask him to elaborate. He smiles. 'Growing up in court, I felt like an outcast. I hated everyone and they acted like I was the shit on their shoe. I built up walls around myself - no, scratch that, I built a fucking fortress - and I didn't let anyone in. But it all changed when I met Camille.. She basically saved my life.'

I've met Camille a handful of times and she's always been warm and kind. She looks like the type of woman you can share a bottle of wine with and chat about men. Drake let's out a deep laugh. 'Oh my god, she is! If you ask her to do that, she would do it. She's always up to talk.'

I imagine she has played a part in making Drake more vocal about his emotions. He nods eagerly. 'Absolutely. When we first met, I was such a dick to her. Thing was, I always found myself watching her, wanting to be part of her conversations but I stopped myself.'

Why?

He looks at me seriously. 'Because I felt like I wasn't worthy. Trust me, when people treat you like you're the shit on their shoes, you start to believe it. Why would this amazing woman waste her time talking to me? So I tried to hate her but couldn't. She took the time to talk to me, joke around. She broke down those walls I built and I'm forever grateful to her.'

Drake is keen to stress that he forces himself to be open about his feelings now. 'If I don't, I'm a hypocrite. I am the figurehead of a mental health charity. If I can't discuss how I'm feeling, then how can I preach to everyone else?'

I ask if it takes work. He nods. 'Every day.'

I decide to move the conversation onto something lighter. I want to know about his kids. Are they different?

He grins, happy to be a father. 'Well, Luna is a baby so it's hard to tell, but she is certainly a different baby compared to how Lily was. Luna is so quiet. She observes everything with these big round eyes, like everything is a wonder to her, and I constantly catch myself thinking baby girl, if I could just be in your head for one minute.. '

He goes quiet with a dopey smile on his face. He then shakes his head. 'They both have my smirk though.'

I ask to see the smirk.

He smirks.

Oh my. The Smirk makes me melt (it deserves capital letters).

Drake leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, 'My wife loves my smirk.'

I ask what family life is like. What is a day in the life entail?

'Usually, Lily wake us up when the sun hasn't even risen yet and screams IT'S MORNING TIME! She will usually be carrying her sister. Somehow, Lily's managed to work out how to unhinge the crib which is actually terrifying..'

Secret genius?

Drake chuckles. 'I think she has plans for world domination. She's only five and already, she's got the mind maps and dastardly plots..'

I smile at his easy humour.

'Camille refuses to get a nanny so she will look after Luna while I do the school drop off. I come home, take Luna, Camille goes to her appointments, she comes homes, we switch and I start work.' He stops then looks at me steadily. 'Jesus, this is such a boring article. I'm sorry. I'm a dad now, my life is just nappies, lack of sleep and wondering if my daughter's poo is a natural colour.'

I will be honest here. I've met Drake a few times and he used to be.. Well, he was always friendly, but he was never this forthcoming. Now he opens up more, jokes around, smiles a lot. I ask if Mind over Matter has helped him.

'It has, yes. But also I'm just happy. I feel content, like I'm right where I'm supposed to be, you know? I have an amazing wife, two beautiful daughters and I have a purpose. I'm more sure of myself now.'

Now he seems to have matured, what kind of dad is he? I imagine he's quite serious and overprotective.

He laughs. 'Yes, I'm very overprotective. God, Lily came home the other day and showed me her collection of leaves. Yes, leaves. Apparently, in her class, if a boy has a crush on you, he gifts a girl a leaf and vice versa. Leaves have become a sort of declaration of love. And she has four! FROM THE SAME GUY!'

I tease that Lily has a boyfriend. Drake shudders. 'Don't push me.'

He then grins. 'Clearly, he's got good taste.'

Is he serious then?

'Hell no! I'm honestly a really fun dad. Am I embarrassing? Maybe.. I do Iove a dad joke. But I take part in Lily's tea parties, I wear a plastic crown and everything. Sometimes, if we're pushing the boat out, we pour chocolate milk into the teacups.' He smiles again.' Tea party days are the best days.'

I ask if he can see himself having a son. He bites his lip thoughtfully.

'No.. I used to. When I allowed myself to start dreaming about raising a family, sure I wanted a little Drake Jr. But nah, I like having girls. They're cute and they're miniature versions of their mom. How can I not want that?'

He clearly adores his wife. You see paparazzi pictures of them and they always look so close. Often, Drake would be shielding her from the cameras or taking her hand to help her out of cars. 'I'm a gent,' Drake shrugs. 'I'm also of the opinion happy wife, happy life. She's my priority. Always has been, always will be.'

I ask what's new for the Duchess. She is very engaged with her duties and seems to aways be visiting children's hospitals or promoting charities.

'She fits into her role brilliantly,' Drake tells me. 'Given she was a commoner before, and an American one at that, she's really settled into being a Duchess. I was in awe. She takes the time to get to know her public, she never complains, she cares. I'm so glad that we both got to learn our roles at the same time. She kept me feeling positive.'

Did he ever think negative?

'I always worried I was failing as a Duke,' he admits. 'I thought I wasn't doing anything. I felt like everyone could see right through me.'

Imposter syndrome?

'Yes!' he cries. 'Definitely. It took me a while to find my feet.'

The interview is beginning to wrap up. Since the past five years have been a whirlwind, is he expecting the same to happen for the next five? He is launching Mind Over Matter as a charity after all. He gives me a warm smile. 'Honestly? Once it's launched, I'm taking it easy. I'm taking my family camping for a weekend. I've got it all planned. I know I go camping a lot for Mind Over Matter so you'd think I'd be sick of it but honestly, I don't. I love being outside and if it means I get to have fun with my children, teach them new things and spend time with my wife, I'm happy. But the next five years? You can't plan it. Everything that's happened to me in my life so far, I never imagined ever happening to me. But I'm excited. So fucking excited.'

I can tell you this, reader. Drake has found himself on steady ground. Long may it continue.

[that-shamrock-vibe]

Movie Review: Frozen II (Spoilers)

Spoiler Warning: I am posting this review a couple of days after it first airs in the U.K, so if you haven’t yet seen the movie, and I strongly recommend you do, then don’t read on until you have.

LGBT Representation:

Alright so I’ll get into character analyses shortly but first of all I just want to talk about the LGBT representation in this movie, because my takeaway from it in this movie is completely different to what seems to be everyone else’s takeaway from it. LGBT representation is very important to me particularly in an all-age property so I wanted to spotlight it.

Now the main issue I see is that people are still insisting that the LGBT representation is that of Elsa being a member of the LGBT community. This is something that emerged after the first movie with Elsa being one of few “Disney Princesses” (despite the fact she is a Queen and neither she nor Anna are official members of said brand) not to have a love interest in the first movie or even this movie, outwardly.

Yes, while no one is openly depicted as an LGBT character in this movie, good old Disney, Elsa is still being shown in that LGBT light to some fans because of two or three character traits.

Firstly there’s the theory that her not feeling like she belongs in Arendelle is because she is, sorry for this, the only gay in the village and not knowing how to handle it. Secondly there’s her new outfit which she acquires at the start of the third act in the movie which is white with rainbow accents...fans believe this is a clear nod to the rainbow flag but to be fair it could just simply be to represent the Aurora Borealis aka the Northern Lights.

Thirdly, despite the first teaser trailer giving fans the completely wrong idea about Elsa’s potential love interest in this movie, who turned about to be a young version of her mother, Elsa does get close with new very minor girl Honeymaren. There is no evidence that either Honeymaren is an LGBT character but people have suggested that their cosy chats border on the flirtatious.

However, I personally do not think the LGBT representation is on Elsa or Honeymaren. I think the LGBT representation in this movie is in fact Honeymaren’s brother Ryder voiced by Jason Ritter. I swear he flirts with Kristoff at least three times in this movie for the brief time he is in it.

Of course all of this is just speculation, but the theory of Elsa, Honeymaren and/or Ryder being potential members of the LGBT community is a major plus both for Disney and for this movie.

Characters:

Elsa:

It can’t be not true that Elsa is the best character not only in this movie but also this franchise as a whole. Not only is she the first real instance of the combination between Disney Princess and Superhero, but also there is no denying the journey and the transformation Elsa goes on from care free child to fearful teenager to in-control young woman.

This character development alone is not only relatable and representative for many if not all young girls coming of age, but also she is both stylish, humble and flawed in a realistic sense...as realistic as someone with ice powers can be I mean.

Now by flaws, I am mainly referring to her inept ability at ruling Arendelle, three times now she has effectively abdicated her throne either for her own reasoning or to actually protect the kingdom, I am more annoyed with Anna for these decisions which I’ll get into when talking about her, but it was quite clear from the first movie alone that Elsa never wanted to be queen. She runs away when her powers are discovered by the people, she then goes off to find out the mystery of her past, she finally abdicates completely and makes Anna queen so she can go off and live in the Enchanted Forest amongst the Northuldra people while not exactly joining them.

Having said that, she absolutely does the right thing by her because, not only is it important to both understand and be completely comfortable with yourself, but also this was where she was always meant to be.

Elsa’s fashion in this movie steps up from the first movie not only in colour but also in style. Gone are those heavy, coverall gowns and now we have light, bright and flowing gowns. Also leggings, Elsa is really only the second “Disney Princess” to wear leggings after Jasmine and it is really good to see someone in that “Disney Princess” role be versatile in fashion.

My favourite three outfits of Elsa’s are her vivid pink nightgown, her travelling outfit and her last outfit when she embraces her role as the fifth spirit. Something about Elsa with her hair down and flowing that really added another layer of power to that transformation “Show Yourself” scene.

Her powers are also plused here, the lady gets a freekin’ water horse which she could freeze to ride on water! Seeing Elsa riding her new steed across the water to stop the tidal wave from flooding Arendelle is the most fiercely stunning sequence I have seen in any movie animated or live-action.

Also her crystal manifestation, which emulated the elemental runes, bursting out from her like an outcry after she sings about wanting to know what it all means and then having them all fall to the ground effectively like hail. I thought her creating the ice palace in the first movie couldn’t be topped but her powers are kicked up here.

She even has a sort of attack move with her powers as she was shown to briefly create an ice snowflake to combat the water spirit who later becomes her steed. 

When she finally finds Ahtohallan and discovers she is the fifth element and starts seeing all those memories of her past and singing “Show Yourself” with her mother, just watching her literally walk through memory lane with all those frozen versions of her memories and reacting different to different ones, like with the Duke of Wesselton where she laughed and Hans who she instantly crumbled and even her singing “Let It Go” which she reacted awkwardly to, all of this was just splender and made me particularly well up.

Then you have her discovering the truth of the past where her grandfather was revealed to have villainous tendencies, I’m not going to say he’s an outright villain but he did kill the Northundra leader and start the war which hid the Enchanted Forest from the world, the fact she literally went to far down and froze to death just like the opening song foreshadowed was also very emotional.

But on that note of finding out there is that darkness in her family, it did remind me a lot of the Once Upon a Time Frozen arc when they introduced the Snow Queen Ingrid as Elsa and Anna’s aunt who had the same powers as Elsa and who was villainous for being misunderstood. They could have copped out and done a similar story but the fact it was routed into Elsa and Anna’s own history in terms of their family was a nice touch.

However, it did give me possibly my favourite line of the movie which is “Fear is the true enemy” in retaliation to hearing her grandfather say that magic is evil. This line can be true of any type of prejudice, I’m thinking of Homophobia but it can also be racism and even sexism, that for an animated Disney movie rated U to accomplish this level of thought is outstanding.

Idina Menzel may not be the most emotive actress but I love her, and what she may lack in her speech she more than makes up for in her singing. Also the fact that Elsa has such emotive facial expressions and the animation and character designs here are so fluid, that it makes Elsa almost seem like a real person.

Olaf:

Josh Gad as Olaf was definitely something I’ve been looking forward to revisiting especially after Olaf’s Frozen Adventure received a very icy reception. I didn’t really care for it, much like any of the Frozen shorts that have come but I’m really happy with him here.

I really liked the idea of exploring Olaf being a child because, I think with this movie taking place a couple years after the first one, Olaf is really only a toddler, so he acts like a toddler.

The fact Olaf sees the world in such innocence and beauty really resonates with little kids watching this movie and hopefully allows them to get out of it what Olaf gets out of it which is not understanding the world as a child but having to grow up and face reality.

I wasn’t crazy about his song, again like the first movie I feel it wasn’t as grand as the rest of the songs but I did like the message behind it of things not making sense to Olaf now but will make sense when he grows up.

By far the funniest moments of this movie are when Olaf reenacts the events of the first movie for the people trapped in the Enchanted Forest and also at the very end after the credits when he reenacts the events of this movie for Marshmallow and the Snowgies. I just loved again that child-like interpretation and bluntness of events. “Anna and Elsa separated but it’s okay because at least they still have their parents! Their parents are dead!” My screening could not stop laughing at that point.

Speaking of death, there is death in this movie, both what you see and what is open to interpretation. Elsa effectively dies as she is frozen solid much like how Anna is in the first movie, but Olaf’s death came as a consequence of Elsa’s death due to him being enchanted by Elsa. Possibly because this whole thing takes place after the “Show Yourself” scene and Elsa finally being true to who she is and of course because Olaf is the innocent dying, it really made me sad.

I was thrilled he came back, of course I knew he was going to come back. However, I did hear that early scripts had him staying dead but I don’t think that would have gone down very well with audiences and particularly merchandising because after Anna and Elsa merch I know Olaf is up there, although I think he may have competition after this movie...we’ll get to Bruni.

Also in keeping with the idea of Olaf being a child, I found it fascinating that he was experiencing new emotions in this movie such as anger, without actually getting angry he just felt it and didn’t know how to handle it. A little bit like with Groot in the MCU, I do hope we maybe see Olaf age or mature and experience the emotions that everyone experiences growing up. I know snow can’t really age in that way but it would be very interesting to see.

Speaking of the properties of snow, I also found the concept of water having memory interesting. It does play into the Disney/Fantastical element of the almost absurd but in a sense you want it to be true, like Aladdin’s flying carpet or even how woodland animals can help clean.

I’m not so certain about the cop-out of no longer giving Olaf his own flurry, yes they explained it as rather than it being a cloud simply being a kind of coat which was beautiful to see lit-up and everything, but it just seemed like the animators not wanting to animate a snow cloud constantly, even using the excuse that it only appears in hot weather was proven false because it was sunny numerous times in this movie and nothing appeared.

Olaf is still one of my favourite characters both in this movie and in Disney in general, I think he’s fun, I love his innocence and a lot of that is down to Josh Gad’s vocal performance. I can no longer think of Josh Gad without thinking of Olaf but in a way that’s not a bad thing.

Anna:

There was a massive opportunity missed from this movie which was not spotlighting the fact that Anna almost had PTSD from the events of the first movie. She wanted the status quo to remain how it was in the moment at the start of the movie and was desperate to keep her loved ones safe.

I don’t particularly know what purpose Anna served in this movie outside of living in denial of everything going on. Yes it is a noble deed to want to keep your loved ones safe, however, Anna should have known that not only Elsa discovering her origins but also the two sisters finding out about their mother’s history was not only important but I feel necessary. Finding out what happened to their parents, why they went off, even how they met. 

But instead we have Anna constantly wanting to be the mother of the group and look after everyone, except for Kristoff. I will talk about Kristoff in his section but seriously these two went from being the ideal couple in the first movie to “Why the heck are you to together?” in this movie.

All of this is why what made her hitting rock bottom after both Elsa and Olaf had “died” so important and her realising that and building herself back up. Again, like Olaf, I didn’t really like her song but I appreciated the meaning behind it.

It was from this point that Anna showed true signs of not only being a leader but also actual competency. I mean once again both Elsa and Anna abandon Arendelle, yes Anna has done it twice in the hopes of saving it which is noble, but she goes from leaving a man she just met and got engaged to in charge without knowing him for more than five minutes, to leaving Rock Trolls in charge. Yes Grand Pabbie is at least responsible for an entire tribe but seriously?

However, after she realises what has to be done to right the wrongs of the past, her selfless decision to destroy the dam and flood Arendelle to free the Enchanted Forest was impressive because obviously the kingdom can be rebuilt and the people were safe in the Rock Troll Valley.

Now of course, everything turned out fine because Anna unknowingly revived Elsa by getting the dam broken down and she stopped the tidal wave from destroying Arendelle, but Anna didn’t know that when she decided to do it and she still chose to it, and made the old Arendelle guard listen to her.

This is how she proved herself as queen, so that when Elsa made her queen so she herself could go and live in the Enchanted Forest, she earned it. She’s queen, she has Kristoff as a fiancé and obviously she and Elsa will keep a strong bond between Arendelle and the Enchanted Forest.

Kristen Bell is Kristen Bell, you know she was born for this type of role and this type of world. Having said that, again she was almost pushed to the background or was making me want to push her to the background because of her constant complaining. But she was still very good and the main core four cast continue to be a big selling point for this franchise.

Kristoff:

I find it ironic that the title of this franchise is Frozen and that he is an ice seller because they effectively fridged Kristoff in this movie.

Kristoff’s role in this movie is pretty much the one-note version of Bernard’s from The Rescuers Down Under, in that his story throughout this movie was trying to propose to Anna and yet constantly failing. Now granted, he goes to greater extravagance to do so than the mouse did but it takes them both the length of their movies to simply learn it’s now how you say it it’s just saying it.

On that note, I felt no chemistry between Anna and Kristoff in this movie. They both think the other one abandoned them part way through this movie and Anna particularly doesn’t really seem to care.

As I said before, when Kristoff and Ryder had their scenes together, I felt more chemistry between them than I did from Kristoff for Anna. Also Kristoff and Ryder are more suited. They both love reindeer, they both talk for their reindeer, and also I got the sense that maybe Ryder actually liked Kristoff in that way, as he seemed upset that Kristoff didn’t ride off with him.

Kristoff did give me one of the best moments of the movie though which was his song in the form of an 80s/90 pop balled video. It was one of the most bizarre choices this movie could have made, but considering you have Jonathan Groff and didn’t let him do what Jonathan Groff is known for doing in the first movie it more than makes up for that.

Once again I don’t feel like he contributed much to the actual story and genuinely felt like he could have been cut and nothing would change, but it is good having a male presence in this movie who is human so I give him credit for that.

Northundra:

I really enjoyed this tribe, the native-american qualities they had really helped separate them from the citizens of Arendelle. Both Native-American and Australian Aborigines I feel were portrayed rather well in the tribe.

Yelena, Ryder and Honeymaren were really the only three spotlighted in the tribe and I felt that is all they really needed.

However, we also know from this movie that Elsa and Anna’s mother, Queen Iduna, was Northundra...which kind of makes sense as a child because she has some colouring, but as an adult she’s Caucasian...and Anna and Elsa are clearly Caucasian.

I mean it’s slightly obvious the Northundra weren’t on the cards in the first movie, however simply having Iduna being of that race would have made more sense.

Speaking of the first movie. The Northundra here have a chant they perform when Elsa and Anna realise they have Northundra heritage, but this sounds like the same chant from the opening of the first movie which leads into “Frozen Heart”. So maybe they were foreshadowed?

Spirits:

Alright so I didn’t know how much there was to talk about the four spirits that seemingly guard the Enchanted Forest and whom Elsa awakened and apparently made angry towards the start of this movie so I thought I would talk about them collectively here in the order they appear in Elsa’s vision during “Into the Unknown”.

Fire:

Two things I love about the fire spirit, the first is that it’s fire form is this very vibrant pink colour and I’m always a fan of fire having different colours, I prefer green but pink works well here I guess.

The second thing I love about it is Bruni, who is the actual fire spirit and I don’t think named ever in this movie by name. However, I have loved Bruni since his one main shot in the trailer, I love how cute he is, I love the fact he’s another reptilian being a salamander, after Pascal from Tangled being a chameleon.

Also, Bruni may have about as much screen time here as Pua the pig from Moana but he is just one of Elsa’s new animal sidekicks and unlike most of the Disney Princesses, this queen has two magical creatures as animal sidekicks. I think the only princess in that category is Mulan with Mushu.

As I mentioned before with Olaf’s merch, I do feel that Bruni is a potential competitor for beating him in merch sales. I think Olaf, Sven and Bruni all have plush toy qualities, but Bruni has that added cuteness and he’s new.

Water:

Elsa’s other magical animal sidekick is the water spirit known as The Nøkk, who is a mythological Scandinavian water spirit in the shape of a horse...with a waterfall mane.

Not only is this a cool pet anyway the fact Elsa can freeze and ride it is just epic. Who wouldn’t want a water spirit horse. 

Earth:

Alright so I can’t remember when the Earth Giants first appear, whether or not they emerge during the earthquake that took over Arendelle or if they appeared in the Enchanted Forest but I did enjoy them.

I don’t exactly know when Elsa tamed them, it did seem that if anyone did Anna did by getting the dam broken.

Air:

I enjoyed Gail, I thought giving what is essentially a tornado that turns into a light breeze a name also gives it character.

But once again, while Elsa broke free of the tornado, Olaf was the one who named it and as such wasn’t he the one to tame it?

I did like how Gail became the messenger for the two kingdoms also.

Songs:

Alright so like always, I’ll be talking about these songs in order of my favourites.

Into the Unknown:

While not as groundbreaking as “Let It Go” but it is powerful, moving and delivered beautifully by both Idina Menzel and AURORA who is credited as “The Voice” that do that “Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah” sound that I want as an alarm tone.

I loved how Idina managed to match AURORA and almost harmonise with it, I love the message of being scared of the unknown but pushing yourself into it, the presentation of the performance was beautiful particularly when she went into that black space with the production going on around her.

It’s my favourite song in the movie and everything about it was just brilliant.

I do also enjoy the Panic! At the Disco version that plays over the end credits, it’s definitely a better pop version of a movie song to Demi Lovato’s version and I feel has a better mainstream future than it too.

Show Yourself:

This song made me emotional, and not many songs do that. I feel maybe it was the build-up to Elsa finally discovering who she was meant to be, the duet with her mother, or the fact she had that walk through her history in ice sculptures, but something welled up inside me and I love it.

The song is about realising who you are and being true to who you are. It’s something I feel anyone can relate to and the fact it’s in a duet with her deceased mother is just the icing, pardon the pun.

Also, this is where Elsa gets her new look, starting off with her taking her hair down and then her updated ice-blue dress transforming into her final white dress with rainbow accents.

Idina Menzel once again dominates with her vocals here but also Evan Rachel Wood matches her quite well.

Lost in the Woods:

I loved Jonathan Groff’s singing in Glee, from “Highway to Hell” and “Bohemian Rhapsody” to “Rolling in the Deep” he had such a range vocally that, despite hating the character, I loved him singing.

This is why it was criminal that the only “singing” Kristoff did in the first Frozen was that “Reindeer are better than people” lullaby song which made a comeback here at the start of this song and made me almost give up on Kristoff completely.

However, when you get passed that and Sven actually singing, you have a rather good song in the style of an 80s/90s pop ballad music video. Instantly I thought of “Everything I Do” by Bryan Adams and, despite not liking that particular song, I loved this and the arrangement of the performance.

Having Kristoff lean up against a tree as a wide shot while having his full face fade in to the side of him was so cheesy, so cringy and yet so good. I couldn’t help but enjoy it.

The Next Right Thing:

Now again, I didn’t particularly enjoy this song but I did enjoy and appreciate the message behind it.

When Anna is at her lowest edge having lost Elsa, Olaf and potentially Kristoff...again she doesn’t really give him a second thought at this point, she remembers advice that both her mother gave her and that Sterling K. Brown’s character enforced and builds up the strength to get herself out of the cave.

It’s a song about reaching rock bottom and figuring out where to go from there, it’s something I can definitely relate to and I am sure others can to, whether or not that’s in school, college/university, work or personal lives.

Kristen Bell is a good singer but for some reason something didn’t click here for me.

When I Am Older:

I love Olaf and thought his song was a very nice and fun sidetrack to the movie, however in terms of it being memorable...”In Summer” was a lot better and had the funny beats of irony to it.

As I said when talking about his character, the song did help define Olaf’s story through the movie of being young and immature.

Also the funny beats to this song of ending it in complete denial of “This is fine” before being crushed by a boulder were great.

Some Things Never Change:

This was possibly the most cringe-worthy few minutes of the entire movie. This happens right near the start originally between Anna and Olaf before become an ensemble piece.

Again, I understand the message behind the song of how people don’t like change but it just came out of nowhere and had no real tie-in to the rest of the movie other than Anna’s unrealised story arc of wanting things to remain how they are.

All Is Found:

As a lullaby this was an okay song, however I don’t think it did much to progress the story despite being the start of the movie. “Frozen Heart” had more of a beginning quality to it rather than this.

Overall I rate the movie a 9.5/10, it’s a near perfect movie but there is still room for improvement as always. I loved the characters, the songs, the animation. It all just felt very Disney.

So that’s my review of Frozen II, what did you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Movie Reviews as well as other posts.

[europeanguy]

Gotta Gogh [Part 5.2: From Cordonia]

Pairing: Nadia x Maxwell

Words: 2.3k

Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergence, Crossovers, time skips and POV changes, cheesy lines and a sprinkle of angst… maybe

Your brother is the Duke, he manages the duchy of Ramsford and the estate, he has people relying on him and people who trust him, he makes sure that House Beaumonts’ legacy doesn’t go up in flames – where do you fit in?

Where do I fit in?

The limo hits some bumps in the road, and Maxwell hits his head on something weirdly shaped. He comes to a few seconds later, realizing he’s been dozing off on his brother’s shoulder. Bertrand isn’t too fussed, he’s too busy reading something on his iPad. How Bertrand could read in a moving vehicle, he will never understand. He switches it off, uttering something about ‘needing coffee and do you want some?’. But Maxwell knows that his older brother is just being gentle on him, too gentle that it makes his mind race thinking about the worst possible case scenarios. Could all of Ramsford have burned down? Did anyone they know die? Did he get somebody pregnant?

Or maybe it’s just because Bertrand had found him with semi-wet clothes and damp, red, eyes – this sad, sad being that entered through the doors of their house in the capital.

Maxwell shakes his head no to the coffee, then shoves a hand in his pocket to make sure its still there. He traces its rounded edges, feeling its carvings press indents into his skin. And it’s a little bit comforting. He takes it out and looks at this cartoony miniature of the Eiffel Tower, bronze, with “Paris” written across the length of it in big bold words.

He and Nadia had laughed at the tackiness of it all. And yet they wore matching t-shirts proudly saying “Bonjour!”.

So, she bought one of the pocket-sized Eiffel Towers when he wasn’t looking.

Maxwell rolls his shoulders and straightens up, getting stiff in the seats. Bertrand preferred the limo when traveling to Ramsford because of that much needed leg-room, but the carpets and the plush seats made Maxwell feel like the air is being crushed out of the space. Bertrand clears his throat and scoots near the mini-fridge, looking for the cold-brew cans they kept stocked in there with the champagne.

They weren’t going to talk about it.

It must be dragging close to 10 am by now since they left at dawn, and Nadia’s probably already in New York. He can sleep away the rest of the day, judging by how nicely Bertrand has been treating him.

The thing is, Nadia knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t keep his promise. And so Maxwell found out through the other students living on her floor – Nadia left the day before. Her door was unlocked, the room left empty except for the furniture that came with it. And then he found it, the mini Eiffel Tower miniature, on the bed. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or laugh as he picked it up. Nadia knew he thought the touristy trinkets were ugly.

What Maxwell realized in Paris is that he’s kind of really fucked. That Nadia is extraordinary, and he loves her.

“We’re almost here.” Bertrand says, sipping his coffee. He grimaces lightly, no wonder in need of a real cup soon. Maxwell nods, knowing that it’s a prompt for him to fix himself before meeting with the main house’s staff.

The limo turns down the road that leads to the vast manor he grew up in. The driveway is long and lined with trees, much like the main palace. He has time to brush back his hair – still feeling weird about its shortness – straighten his clothes, and rub the sleep away from his eyes.

After exchanging a polite welcome with the main house staff, Maxwell has disappeared off to his room in no time – and without any complaints from Bertrand at all, who simply asked him to be present at dinner at six. He tosses off his jacket and toes off his shoes, throwing himself on the bed face-down. His mother would always scold him about wearing outside clothes to bed. Maxwell squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for sleep to come – but it doesn’t.

Nadia never did say anything about not calling.

-

Nadia taps the metal ferrule of her brush repeatedly against the paint thinner can’s brim, shaking off the excess. She’s not sure how much time she’s sat there staring at the painting that never seems to be finished.

Back in New York, and she’s literally watching paint dry.

Sighing, she takes the brush again and scrapes it on the drying blob of blue paint, hardly picking up any pigment at first but eventually it gives and seeps through the strands, bright and blue. Blue.

Stop. Have a break. Nadia decides to leave the brush on the container beside the easel and stands up, feeling the strain on her back and her legs as she stretches. Quickly, Nadia opens her window to let the paint and thinner fumes out – she always forgets to, which is why she’s convinced that someday she would inhale too much and just drop dead. Then she cleans up all the candy wrappers (Gran will find out soon enough that she ate all the decorations for the gingerbread house), turns off the lights, and finally collapses on her bed, limbs splayed out – and she sighs, letting her eyes close.

It’s illogical how she hasn’t been able to sleep yet after spending a long-haul flight watching all the romcom movies available and crying. Crying is exhausting. Turns out dramatic airport goodbyes were just for movie screens – and thank god for that. A sharp pang of guilt shoots through her for lying to Maxwell. But he’s stubborn, and Nadia knew he would still try to see her off anyway.

She rolls over and sniffs the soothing smell of fresh sheets, the same old brand of detergent that her grandma always used. Their grandparents’ apartment in New York is small, but it had just enough space for the four of them for when she and Kai visited over the break. It had a small balcony for an herb garden that only their Grandpa cared for. From outside, the light pollution of the city gives casts a bluish glow in tall shadows across her room. It’s closing in on five in the morning, the sunrise late in mid-December but she can see the faint colors of dawn starting to show in the sky.

Her phone rings underneath a pillow somewhere, its muffled sounds making her heart race the longer she leaves it. Her restraint snaps, and she jumps off her bed to rummage through her room for the damned phone. Finally, she finds it underneath an orange throw pillow. She tosses the pillow away and reads the caller ID.

-

You’re not being silly, Maxwell. All this pressure and expectations, they’re insane and being compared to your brother must hurt.

Maxwell picks at his cufflinks – gold with a monogrammed MB. Bertrand hadn’t mentioned that the six pm dinner would be with a fund manager, an estate agent, and the way too slick and smart Chief of Staff; essentially Bertrand’s right-hand man and the one he would sort of replace in the near future. He wouldn’t be taken off the payroll, of course, but he had always been critical of Maxwell and his lack of involvement in estate issues. They all formally wait in line to shake hands with the Duke and his brother.

But I know your brother loves you, and he’s proud of you and all of your achievements.

It still scares Maxwell how charming his brother could be. He lags behind Bertrand and watches him exchange fond greetings with their company. Bertrand turns towards Maxwell and beckons him towards them. His heart swells when Bertrand pats his back reassuringly as he shakes their hands.

He fits here. Right?

I know what it’s like to not feel accepted or competent – but Maxwell, this is your purpose.

Maxwell doesn’t try to dazzle them with whatever he learned that semester, it would be fruitless since these people have been doing this long enough to differentiate the fluff from substance. Instead he sits quietly for once, listening and trying to absorb as much as he could – to no avail. All he can think of was that call.

You’re amazing, intelligent, and caring, and you deserve much more praise. Your brother understands this more than anyone.

You’re starting to sound like my mother and it’s scaring me.

Why do you always joke?

But she laughed. Her laugh sounded like music to his ears, even though it was in bad quality, crackling audio over a phone. Maxwell is broken out of his trance when the first course is served. Bertrand could tell he’s still completely distracted – although thankfully not as miserable as when he had found him.

I can’t handle it, it’s getting too emotional. He reaches into his pocket again to feel the little Eiffel Tower. I didn’t know how I was supposed to let you go.

That’s why I made that decision for you.

Bertrand and the others launch into a deep conversation about estate issues. Maxwell picks at his food, focusing more on the sound of the clatter of silverware against china. Has it really been one whole semester?

Yeah. It was way too quick. I used to wonder a lot if coming to Cordonia was some huge mistake. Since, you know, I didn’t exactly fit in,

He’s not entirely sure that he fits in here too. He tries, he really does. And he wants to help Bertrand who seemed like he aged ten years from all the stress of being a duke.

But Maxwell liked to think of him and Nadia as pieces of the puzzle that come from two different boxes. They had somehow found each other and clicked perfectly. It’s nonsensical, but it happened. It’s where he fits in.

Then I met you and all that went out the window. I was right where I was supposed to be.

Maxwell keeps replaying that part in his head. He took a moment to answer, willed the seconds to slow down.

He remembered everything, it pressed at him, insistent and waiting.

I love you, Nadia.

Nadia yawned softly on the other line, and then all he could hear after that was her faint breathing. Maxwell is brought back to the present, and he closes his eyes to imagine her face under the soft yellow glow of the streetlamps in Paris – wondering what if.

End

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.

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EPILOGUE

Maxwell steps outside the limo in some street that he vaguely remembers – he could only hope it’s the right one. He tells his driver to come back in a while and smooths down his black button-down shirt, the begins to walk up the strangely quiet street. Well, relatively quiet compared to the rest of New York.

He needed this peace after what just happened, waking up with his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton and a pounding headache. As the one morning person in the group, of course he’s the first to wake up – even though it’s already way past the afternoon. The boys back at their suite sleepily complained about all the noise he made while in the shower.

Ha! “Noise”. Excuse you, I was singing.

After Liam disappeared with the waitress, the rest of the boys decided to fuck off and blow some cash away at the nearest high-end club they could find. He doesn’t remember how they ended up at some rooftop party full of hipsters and catching wind of a familiar name in their conversations. Some rising star in the art world. An art show in Brooklyn. Here’s the address.

-

“Nadia! Hey!”

Nadia turns and spots her cousin, Kai, among the crowd. She quickly excuses herself to pass through all the people – it’s still crazy to think about just how much her work blew up.

“You made it!” She envelops Kai in a tight hug, and holds her at arm’s length. “So? What do you think?”

Kai scans the room with an appreciative look on her face. “Are you kidding? This is insane. I’m so proud of you.”

“Not the show!” Nadia gestures at herself. “Do I look okay?”

Kai laughs. “You look like an artist with a popping art show and not to mention a fat bank account after all this.”

“What?”

“She’s saying you look fine and that we promise to step in once you start unironically wearing… berets.” Damien suddenly claps a reassuring hand on Nadia’s shoulder, holding a drink on the other. His wrinkles his nose at someone who passes by wearing a bejeweled beret.

“You’re so judgmental!” Kai stifles a laugh with her hand.

Damien shrugs and takes a gulp from his drink. “So, who do I have to beat up this time?”

“Ugh, stop it.” Nadia rolls her eyes, but smiles fondly at Damien’s over-protectiveness. “His name is Steve and you guys have to promise me that you’ll be nice.”

Kai nods. “That’s mostly directed towards you, Damien.”

“I’ll be nice, alright.” Damien frowns. “I’m just saying- it’s weird that he’s an investment banker who also happens to be a baker, volunteers at animal shelters, and his name is Steve.”

“What do you have against Steves?” Nadia laughs.

“Yeah! Steves are generally nicer than Damiens!” Kai shares a conspiratorial smile with Nadia.

Damien downs the rest of his drink. “I didn’t ask to be ganged up on like this.”

Nadia’s phone rings and her whole face lights up. “Uh oh, I think he’s outside but he’s not sure which one it is.”

Kai shoots Damien a be nice glare as Nadia excuses herself to go to the entrance. Her heart pounds with excitement as she walks. A cold gust of wind greets her as she pushes open the door, and comes face to face with – Maxwell Beaumont.

She feels like all the air has been knocked out of her lungs as Maxwell looks back at her, shocked.

“…hi.”

FACTS THAT ARE DECIDEDLY NOT FUN BECAUSE THESE ARE JUST DISGUISED AUTHOR’S NOTES also I am sad

-        So it ended! FINALLY!

-        No joke it was so difficult to end this series despite it only having a few chapters. It went through rewrites upon rewrites and even me deleting a WHOLE alternate ending wherein Nadia doesn’t leave early.

-        They don’t end up together in both endings but I have greatly considered just throwing all my plans out the window and have Maxwell follow Nadia to New York. Ah… now wouldn’t that be nice.

-        Nadia literally slept on Maxwell lolol get it

-        If anyone would want to see the draft of the alternate ending I can drop you the google docs link.

-        The epilogue happens on the first chapter of both books where they’re BOTH in New York; Nadia has her art exhibit, and the TRR boys are at the “bachelor” party. Again, I changed what happened in each bc… I can.

 -        Big thanks to @pixieferry who motivated me endlessly to write and her unwavering support, and to @littlecrookedheart for basically greasing the stuck gears (this is a weird phrase) in my brain that finally got me to writing this ending, I appreciate all her help (even the kill someone and Andy cameo suggestions)

- Thank you also to everyone who stuck by this story. I’m so so so happy that I finished it, and I’m so grateful for your patience. This is the first and last fic I will post on this account because I made a separate blog for fics (that’s pretty empty as of now).

tag list: @littlecrookedheart, @femmeshep, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @zaffrenotes, @teamtomsato, @pixieferry