#anyway eugene wars would be so silly

[wayfayrr]

A very hungover 🦆 anon here to say that Wars as Flynn/Eugene from the movie "Tangled" would epic epic. I'm gonna go hydrate now.

I hope you've managed to hydrate some between when you sent this and now love/p

Wars as flynn rider would go EXCEPTIONALLY hard though ong, and even though logically you'd have reader as rapunzel I think a platonic version where legend is rapunzel is honestly better.

royal legend my beloved <3

[sleepymccoy]

Still thinking about a Star trek TOS Firefly au. So I'm gonna have fun writing it out.

I love the dynamic between Mal, Zoe, and Wash, so that's certainly becoming the triumvirate. Mal > Jim, Zoe > Spock, Wash > Bones. However Wash's job doesn't make sense for Bones so he's going to change to doctor.

Jim was on Tarsus 4 and suffered the same as in canon, famine leads to who lives lottery and he wasn't chosen but survived anyway. I think that makes perfect sense in the Firefly universe too, but I think unlike in trek Kodos is celebrated by the federation in Firefly for making tough choices and leading in a strong way. So he's not on the run, he's a constant background side threat who's still in power. The face of the federation in this version, but not the head of it. You feel me

After Tarsus, Jim and Bones met and became mates. I think Bones moved to a big fancy planet for his wife and child after a bit. In the meant time, we have Spock!

This got massive, have a readmore

Spock is the result of eugenic experiments (there's no aliens in Firefly 😢) like the serenity thing that the og story is about (but generational eugenics not brain poking)(because I want there to be many others, just also in hiding and with their own political factions and opinions) but his resulted in Vulcan-like stuff. I think he's still got the pointy ears and has excessively strong emotions that he's learnt to hide completely cos he was raised in a medical facility by cold scientists instead of parents and love. There's schools of thought about them, some want to integrate, some want them exterminated, some want them to form their own society. The federation stance is these eugenic things don't exist and if you see one kill it because it officially doesn't exist. So Spock is forced into hiding and hasn't really had a chance to form his broader opinion, cos it's academic anyway. They're all hiding now.

So, Spock's escaped (more on that later) and in hiding. He meets Jim and they click, probably meeting in some silly battle. I reckon Spock has ways to get away from the feds that Jim wants to learn, so Jim pushes for them to team up. They spend some time together either on someone else's ship or on a smaller ship just them two.

After a while that comes to an end and they put together a crew and buy a ship together. They hire Sulu and Chekhov who are a criminal team who need to get off this rock very fast please. Chekhov can fly wonderfully and has enough engineering knowledge that they're like hey we maybe don't need someone in the engine room!

Sulu is a jack of all trades. It takes a few months for them to realise how useful he is, he always has a skill they need and always knows someone who'll play as a contact. Absolutely invaluable.

Eventually the engine breaks beyond Chekhov's skill to fix and they've all heard of Scotty. Everyone knows about Scotty. I think this would make a good episode one.

They work Sulu's contacts and find Scotty who is, lo and behold, having a drink with his mate disgraced Doctor McCoy. Spock, immediate dislike, this guy is a doctor. Jim, holy shit! Bones! Why the fuck aren't you emailing me back!?

Turns out Bones has gotten divorced and threw a bit of a fit in a hospital and can't work on a core planet anymore. He agrees to join the crew and Scotty has some issue that forms most of the episode plot and joins too cos hey, crims gotta keep moving

The ep ends with meeting Uhura, who manages a lot of the residual resistance movement's comms. She's the most political of the bunch, but Jim is absolutely in agreement and so chuffed to meet her even tho he's never been too war-y before. Scotty and Sulu already know her. She takes a kind of Inara role on the ship, but she's not companioning, she's boosted the comms in the shuttle and is continuing this work. It's great for her cos she gets to move around and be hard to catch, and it's great for the ship cos it gives them access to loads of underground people who aren't the hated federation

I also think she helped Spock break out back in the day. I'm not sure if she was part of it and they've met, or if she helped run things so she knows Spock but he doesn't know her. She's gonna be their reason for getting accidentally involved in larger things in the story and why they get more altruistic with their jobs. Spock also pulls them into some of the eugenic stuff

I reckon episode two needs some Spock eugenic stuff to happen so that Bones can solidify himself as on team Spock in action even if he has a go at Spock. Cos everyone else follows Jim's orders and Jim is team Spock, so I think Bones needs a chance to prove it. To great danger to himself ofc.

Repeat characters (like in Firefly they have Badger and Saffron who rock up as major non crew characters) are Chapel and Rand. I think Chapel is still on a core planet as a nurse. I would have her join the crew in season two, to look for her missing husband. But in season one she can be an insider informant for the hospital heist episode, which they do mainly for the medical equipment cos Bones has like nothing to treat people with. And maybe Spock has some additional medical needs that Bones needs to learn (Spock hates this)

Rand is like a bit of Saffron energy but less totally untrustworthy. I think she works them for her benefit but in a way where when they meet again they're like hey Janice you're not allowed on the ship but it's great to see you! Like, maybe she hijacks them to get her somewhere or stows away super inconveniently. Or maybe she just steals from them old school style and has a very all's fair in love and war vibe about it. She just doesn't hold any resentment, so it's hard to resent her

If I were to cast this show I'd cast Bones and Jim and women because I think it needs more women, might as well put them in positions of power, and honestly I think Spock's character with the emotional repression and all would change being cast as a woman whereas the others wouldn't. Spock's character in this is gonna be playing into stereotypes and expectation to stay in hiding, and those change as a woman

I've definitely got less tension on board than Firefly. There's no Jayne equivalent making life hard for everyone, but you could write an arc in for Chekhov like that if you wanted to. He could go from disliking the danger Spock and Uhura bring to absolutely admiring them over like two seasons. Could be interesting, but it's not got much to do with trek really

There's no shipboard romance here either. There could be something cool in the Scotty/Uhura that happened later in trek canon. Maybe they've got romantic history, so when she joins the ship there's tension and they just fall into bed together pretty quickly. But I'd only put that in if it added something else to the story, which it might! I'm not actually writing, I'm brainstorming

And similar to what the did in Firefly I think Spock/Bones makes the most sense. Cos we don't need proof that Spock and Jim understand each other, they're captain and first officer. They have each other's back absolutely. And similarly with Jim and Bones, they'd have old loyalty and friendship to draw on. And I think they also just obviously get along. But Spock and Bones could do with some plot prodding along, so I'd do something like the Simon/Kaylee romance where there's tension and clear desire but they're bad at making it happen. There's too much in the way. But it adds reason for Bones to have Spock's back (cos we're coming at at the start of their friendship, not years into their five years mission) and you can occasionally see Spock relaxing the emotional wall with someone other than Jim as he develops more serious a crush

I want to see! The Niska episode where Jim and Spock get nicked and tortured, and Bones goes in to trade for them back. He can only afford one but true to the Empath ep he just trades himself and volunteers for the torture.

I also want to see a Jaynestown style ep where Scotty or Sulu are the hero. I think probably Scotty. He'd be easy to write as selfish in a he only cares about tech kinda way and then to find that he accidentally did this would be funny. He also likes to keep a low profile generally so it's extra hilarious

Hospital heist ep, with Chapel cameo. I don't think anyone's handing Spock over to the feds, but maybe they get caught and Chekhov tries to trade Spock for their freedom? Not in a pre planned malicious, but more that he just doesn't prioritise Spock's safety over everyone else's. He sees it as a last ditch leverage effort, for the greater good. Could be good drama

Saffron style ep with Rand but she steals from them. I do think that's hilarious, showing them be the mark. And I'd let her win, leave them stranded without whatever thing it is she fleeced and having to find a new magical tech engine bit. But hey she left some booze as an apology and made out with Jim so it's not too bad

I really like Firefly

[georgieluz]

hi! I hope you’re doing good and I was wondering if you can cast your mutuals as The Pacific men, women characters too? based off of their personalities? hope this isn’t too much to ask! anyways, have a good day!

hello! it's not too much to ask, i can definitely try to do that!

burgie → @im-chinese-believe-it-or-not this was the first one that popped into my head immediately!! you have burgie's soft caring side where you wanna look after all your friends/mutuals and make sure everyone is okay and feels Seen and heard and validated!! and i feel like you have that warmth and stabilising effect that burgie has on the boys too... when you're not around my dash feels slightly off! but you also know when to be firm and shut things down when people interact with you or others in bad faith! you're not a pushover at all and will stand up for the right thing even if it means you have to put on your "shut up bill" voice. i feel like you spread happiness and safe vibes in the same way that burgie does!

eddie → @hellofanidea because i feel like you have a lot of depth and i just feel like we'd have interesting conversations all the time and you're the kind of person whose brain i want to pick about random topics. you seemed like a Cool Online Person when we first became mutuals but it turned out you're actually super approachable and easy to talk to and eddie definitely feels similar in that way!

sledge → @theflyingfin because you're smart and always interesting to talk to! like eugene, you're open with how you feel about things and you just give me sledge vibes sometimes but not naive!sledge vibes but sledge who has seen some things y'know?

snafu → @aegondluvrs bc 99% of our first conversation revolved around svt and enha's teeth (rightly so) and you definitely have snafu's brand of chaos! also: if snafu was a carat in 2023 he too would have a folder dedicated to lee jihoon's teeth, we're not alone!

sid → my good friend @footprintsinthesxnd! i feel like i'm copying the quiz we did but it honestly felt really accurate to me because you're a literal sweetheart and one of the kindest people around but you're also way more than just that.. you're a great friend and always so supportive when anything has happened, and you're funny and witty in the same understated way that sid is. people probably think you're shy and quiet at first but that absolutely changes when you become friends with them. we have the best conversations and i'm genuinely so glad to have you in my life!!

leckie x lena hybrid → @lewis-winters look, i know i talk all the time about how annoying leckie is, so let me first of all say that i'm not including any of the annoying parts of his personality here... but you do have a similar charismatic intelligence thing going on.. y'know, the type of person you know you would always enjoy having a conversation with no matter what the topic is and whose opinion you would always be interested in hearing on just about anything. lena comes in with that aspect too, but you also have her enigmatic vibes, the kind that makes people wanna be friends with you!

runner → @ep6bastogne bc your posts make me laugh a ton and you're chill but also not at the same time? which is how i feel runner is too.. like he jokes around and winds leckie up and is silly af but he also gives off chill drama free vibes idk like i just feel like you're both the type of friend i would want in my life y'know?

chuckler → @lamialamia because our conversations are either about something ridiculous like sledge's ass flash and leckie's sex scenes or they're about the devastation of war and losing ack ack and eddie or something equally as terrible lmao you feel very balanced to me in that way and i think chuckler is like that too.. hilarious and jokes around but also serious when you need to be! kinda the perfect mix you would want in a friend or mutual!

vera → @hxad-ovxr-hxart because you're very funny but also very sweet! and you have vera vibes (warm and kind but witty vibes!!) and i feel like you're very approachable in the same way vera is too!

sorry if this didn't live up to your expectations anon!! this was a lot of fun to think about though!

[justice4sasuke]

God i hate the uchiha massacre and the narrative around it so much!

Kishimoto just had to make it racist, apparently.

He just had to make his main cast into fascist sympathizers. And woobify apartheid.

If the uchiha massacre was a ploy by another village to use the 9 tails to destroy konoha and sasuke directed his revenge there instead. Kishimoto could've constructed a story about the genocidal officials having already been executed and used that to gaslight sasuke out of his revenge plot instead but nope. Just limit yourself by retconing the political system of the village which is most fleshed out, and justify it with fucking eugenics.

He is perfectly capable of creating annoying scenarios that completely invalidate the villain's motivations (it's actually rin who wanted kakashi to kill her!! It was all a misunderstanding! Obito is sooo silly!) why not do it with the whole ass massacre? It's stupid, yes but its less morally reprehensible than "it was just a genocide! Get over it and you deserved it anyways!"

And sasuke killing another village's kage or elder would've made a far better start of the war arc than revenge of the clones.

(Btw I know that sasuke being betrayed by his own village is far more interesting but kishi would never have taken it to its logical conclusion.)

I don't understand why we have to have this whole Sasuke wants to kill everyone charade at all, like maybe at first, but like five people knew about this plot and once Sasuke kills Danzo there are only two people left and I find it hard to believe Sasuke wouldn't agree to some sort of compromise like punishing the remaining elders and sharing with the village the truth of the massacre, maybe make a monument to the clan or something. In fact, it's silly to say he couldn't be negotiated with considering that Kishimoto wrote it that by the end Sasuke doesn't care about the genocide at all apparently.

Also, like I said in my initial post about my THEORORETICAL rewrite having Naruto confront something terrible his village did after they give him the validation he wanted and him struggling between that initial want and him wanting not to be a ninja who is just a tool would give him a character arc rather than the big old nothing he actually gets.

[thosearentcrimes]

as far as the czechoslovak picture goes, the main things worth mentioning imo are the involuntary sterilization of roma women (continued after the revolution), pro-eugenics articles in the reformist press during prague spring (jiri drnovsky remained a universally beloved pediatrician after the revolution and until his death, nobody else seems to have even ever noticed the pro-eugenics article), penile plethysmography (whose architect emigrated to canada in 1968 and trained ray fucking blanchard), and whatever bizarre shit the disciples of education minister and psychic magician frantisek kahuda were doing (which was carefully observed by the cia and probably prompted their own deranged magic experiments, insert dr strangelove scene, and laid the groundwork for havana syndrome shit)

the only connections with child abuse in particular are that drnovsky was a pediatrician and freund studied pedophilia, though obviously there were a lot of systems for organized child abuse like pionyr or the vykrmny that were less wacky and so didn't make it in here, it's also not clear to me what if anything the stb were doing in terms of mad science because none of this really involves them but they must have been doing something

anyway imo this gives a very different picture of what you would want to be highlighting in a fictionalization of czechoslovak cold war mad science, a missed opportunity you might say, and making it an anti-communist screed is silly ofc

the plot of monster revolves around (spoilers!) state-sponsored child torture and dangerous long term psychological experimentation/engineering conducted during the cold war in communist central europe (in particular, east germany and czechoslovakia), at its most scandalous in concert with far right nazi sympathisers. the narrative presents this as a natural fit with the "totalitarian" ideology of soviet bloc communism, and western bourgeois democrats as its natural unmaskers and enemies

in reality, bourgeois democracies in central europe were perfectly capable of systematic child abuse in the service of psychological experimentation and social engineering. denmark was the site of confirmed cia-backed experimentation on orphans as part of mkultra, and theres been argument that they were also involved in the infamous "kentler project" in west germany. west germany for decades also ran childrens "health resorts" responsible for serious abuse, often staffed by ex-nazis (unsurprisingly, given the much less intensive denazification undertaken in the west). now itd be pretty facile to use these to make the same poetic argument as monster makes with its fictitious child experimentation except flipping the sides so its clumsily anticapitalist instead of anticommunist, but it at least would have the merit of appealing to projects that actually took place

[butchdogthing]

wrote a garashir fic check it out

title: Accommodations

summary:

"I have autism." By the delivery of it, it felt as though there was an expectation that Garak should know what that meant. — Julian asks Garak to make him a new uniform.

5k words, general audiences (but heed CWs below), garak and bashir silly flirty friendship shit. julian is autistic.

notes:

references to major spoilers through early season 7 - takes place between s07e03 “Afterimage” and s07e21 “When It Rains…”

content warnings: big warning for anti-autistic ableism and child abuse. eugenics and so-called “treatments” are discussed. some language is used which may be considered outdated, pathologizing, or not-preferred, but there are no slurs. i’ll tell you that it ends on a positive note.

also available on archiveofourown. if you enjoy it go hit kudos on there! you dont need an account to do so. and uhhh idk, i likely won’t use this blog for anything really, follow me on twitter, art account is butchdogthing and star trek account is omicrontheyta

story under the cut. some more notes at the end.

"Alterations are one thing, Doctor, but to craft an entirely new uniform?"

"Are you saying you're not up for the task?"

"Not at all! I'm merely surprised - aren't there regulations against that sort of thing?"

This earned Garak a skeptical scowl from Doctor Bashir, who pushed off from the shop wall against which he'd been leaning. "From what I understand, you were happy to make a uniform for Nog ." There was a definite tone of accusation to the statement, but he took it in stride, waving a hand dismissively in Bashir's direction.

"No one looks at a lowly Ensign long enough to even tell his species , let alone notice that his uniform is cut from Bolian cotton rather than Terran polyester." - he made a point of eyeing the doctor up and down, from head to toe - "But the Chief Medical Officer of a space station? The station at the head of the war against the Dominion, no less? Everyone's got their eye on him . And I'd like to keep my tail attached, not add it to some austere Admiral's trophy collection when the question arises of just who aided and abetted in Doctor Bashir's dismissal of uniform code."

Bashir crossed his arms. "Garak, please, you're being beyond overreactive right now."

"Oh, am I?"

"No one pays attention to that regulation anyway. It's just meant to deter officers from looking flashier than their superiors. It's an ego thing. So long as the materials are sufficiently resistant to fire and corrosion, no one will so much as bat an eye. That goes for me as well as my supplier ."

"Hmm..."

Garak put on a show of giving the reassurance a great deal of thought.

"Please?" - Bashir's voice dropped to a gentler tone.

One of life's greatest joys, Garak thought, was to push his dear friend into a position of pleading for something Garak had already intended on providing to him all along. First came Bashir's proposal. Then the reasoning. Then Garak would play at refusal, usually citing his busy schedule, and Bashir would dutifully take the role of the reasonable man, the scientist, presenting logic against Garak's reluctance. Without cooperation, finally logic would give way to begging, until he left Garak with no choice but to either paint himself the unreasonable villain or to reluctantly, mercifully concede.

And Bashir's face during the pleading was Garak's favorite part.

"I may be persuaded."

Just as quickly as he'd crossed them, Bashir uncrossed his arms and gave a critical squint toward Garak.

"You're not afraid of being reprimanded by starfleet, you just wanted to twist my arm into haggling with you!"

Being caught in the game made it no less fun. Besides - the doctor was smart, Garak reasoned, surely he caught on from time to time that he was being toyed with. Yet he still played along.

Garak turned to face him. "Nonsense, Doctor! What gives you the impression that I'm not simply being difficult for sport?"

The question apparently did not deserve to be dignified with an acknowledgement. "What's your price?"

Garak allowed him to stew for a moment.

"Only that you finish reading ‘In The Heart of The Devil’ ."

" ‘In The’ - what, the judicial romance novel? Garak-"

"If my culture so disgusts you, Doctor, I'm sure there are innumerable human tailors in this quadrant, in this sector even, who'd be more than willing to take your business."

"I'm not disgusted, Garak, I've read dozens of Cardassian works." Garak said nothing in return, only stared. Bashir held steady for a moment - then, sure enough, cracked and crumpled. A shame that it was over so quickly, Garak thought, he'd have to find some time to give the good doctor a lecture in fortitude. Apparently defeated, Bashir continued: "I, I found it boring. I fell asleep reading that dreadful book."

"But you hardly made it past the post-prologue!" He placed down the piece he'd been working on and threw his hands up in the air. Bashir scoffed at the display, but Garak only shook his head. "I don't see how you expect to enjoy it without even giving it a chance. It's really quite a cerebral story, especially once you've surmounted the second act."

"And if I read the whole book, then you'll make me the uniform?"

"Free of charge. In fact, you don't even have to read it first . Get started as soon as possible, and I'll have your garments ready by the end of the week. I trust you'll keep your word."

"Really?"

"Would you rather I took the offer back?"

"Well, no. It's just that you haven't exactly got a reputation for being..." - He turned his hand over in front of himself, searching for the right word, until Garak offered -

"Generous?"

" Trusting. "

"Ah, how disconcerting - maybe that counselor friend of yours is making more of an impression than I realized." Garak frowned. "But in any case, Doctor Bashir, I've found that a happy client makes for a happy businessman."

Until that point, Garak had been working on small tasks around the shop, but now stopped to get his equipment for working on Bashir.

"I'm not sure that ‘happy’ describes how I feel at the prospect of keeping up my end of this bargain." Despite what he was saying, the doctor smiled and appeared at ease.

"So, tell me - what are you looking for? A brighter hue, a tighter waist perhaps?"

Bashir blushed and looked down. "No, the color and the cut are fine, it's the material."

Garak deflated upon hearing this - he would have loved the chance to exhibit some artistic liberties with Bashir's fashion, but his frequent offers to pretty the doctor up were always either turned down or had drab and nullifying limitations placed upon them.

He reached out to catch the sleeve of Bashir's Starfleet jacket between two fingers and a thumb. He felt the material of the outer jacket, then slipped his fingers under the teal sleeve below. When his scaled knuckles brushed against Bashir's wrist, Garak found his human skin to be smooth and delightfully warm. "What's wrong with it?"

Bashir pulled his hand (and, by extension, his sleeve) away from Garak and held it close to himself, again turning it in a circular motion as he seemed to search for his words. I hope I haven't bothered him.

"Actually - I suppose the fit could use some work. This jacket is stifling." After a nod from Garak, he continued. "The material, it's... Too..." - Bashir squinted - " Catching . It clings to my skin, as if electrically charged."

This was not the impression Garak had gotten from the fabric. "And a different material would be preferable?"

Garak eyed the doctor carefully. Not with caution, or delicacy, or suspicion - just with the careful and attentive gaze one would lend to a curiosity, or to a friend when you're just getting to learn something new about them. He wasn't sure if Bashir would notice the change in demeanor, but then again, his perceptive nature had, at times, surprised Garak in the past.

If Bashir saw how Garak was looking at him, he wondered, then how would he interpret the look? Or the touch, for that matter? If their literary discussions were anything to go off of, his ability to accurately read meaning into implicit gestures was greatly impaired, by Cardassian standards, or at least unconventional.

Bashir nodded. "My old uniform was much better..."

The new uniform's rollout was fresh in Garak's mind. He was quick to ask Bashir (or, rather, his changeling doppelgänger) for an opportunity to take a closer look at its construction. Careful investigation revealed the previous blend of natural and synthetic fibers had been retired in favor of wholly synthetic material. Apparently, supply issues led Starfleet to reconsider how they clothed their officers, and mass-replicated textiles proved most practical. Despite all the millions of man-hours of research put into the subject since the replicator's inception, by chemists and agriculturalists and animal farmers and Garak's own tailor brethren, the structure of animal- and plant-based fibers had yet to be adequately recreated. Growing it the old-fashioned way was still the only option, and made it inconvenient for such large-scale operations as these.

Quieter this time, Bashir spoke again: "I miss my old uniform."

"The one you wore in the prison camp?"

He knew the answer, but asked anyway. There was a need to explicitly acknowledge that fact between the two of them, to establish the timeline.

"Yes." - quieter still.

"Why, that was two years ago, and I haven't had any of my other Starfleet customers come to me with complaints about the material."

"Well, I'm not your other Starfleet customers."

"No, your taste is much more discerning. " Garak smiled at Bashir, and he weakly smiled back.

"I suppose so."

"With the war going on, many of my suppliers have run dry, but - I may have the right material in my stores already..." Leaving his side, Garak turned, deeper into the shop, searching.

The dreary manner was gone from Bashir's voice as he spoke up from behind, usual affectation of self-assuredness (or self-centeredness) in its place. "You can ask, you know."

Garak turned around. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're referring to, Doctor."

This wasn't entirely truthful: he could sense something was peculiar about Bashir's demeanor today, from the moment he'd walked in the shop. Initially, Garak had suspected it was to do with the fact that the shop was even open for business at all - meaning that he was taking on tailoring work again, something which Bashir would likely have opinions about - but as their chat moved along, he started to feel that this wasn't the case. Then his curiosity had been piqued by the ‘catching’ fabric comment, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was some sort of connection, a thread tying it all together.

Now, that thread had presented itself, and all Garak had to do was pull.

"It's unusual, and I figure you're curious about why I hate my uniform so much when no one else cares. So I'm telling you - you can ask me why." He put on a gentle smile, like the one he always used on his pediatric patients. "I won't be offended."

But it wasn't as fun when the thread was quite literally asking to be pulled. The investigation, the interrogation, was the real thrill of it. But once it laid itself out in this way there was no enjoyment left in even trying to make a game of it. He'd have to give Doctor Bashir yet another lecture about subtlety, as well.

Noting that his itinerary was filling up at an alarming rate, Garak gave in, and turned back to his selections of cloth. "Alright. Why?"

"I have autism."

By the delivery of it, it felt as though there was an expectation that Garak should know what that meant.

He knew enough at least to sense that a few seconds' pause - of ‘dawning understanding’ - was likely appropriate.

"Oh... I see."

"Until - until recently, I never wanted to... Acknowledge it. Finally telling people, talking about it," he sighed, "it feels good."

"And you didn't want to, because?"

"I suppose I thought I could power through it. And that it was something to be ashamed of."

"What's the prognosis, then, Doctor?"

A genuine question, but easy enough to pass off as a joke if needed. But the doctor just laughed and said, "Well, I'll always be autistic."

Grabbing a few bolts of cloth, blends similar to the constituents of the old uniform, Garak returned to Bashir and laid the materials on a table.

The initial impression he'd gotten was that this ‘autism’ was a disease, perhaps of the skin. Garak had had the rare client or two in the past who broke out in rashes when exposed to certain animal hairs. But then Bashir's use of ‘autistic’ - an adjective? Something significant enough to one's position in the world that it needed its own descriptor? - had thrown off the dermatological illness hypothesis. Unless it's terminal, he thought, slow-progressing enough that he feels it won't significantly impact his lifespan.

Or he could be dying as we speak, and doesn't have the heart to tell me.

But Garak brushed this thought aside - surely the doctor had more sense than to try ‘powering through’ a terminal illness. That couldn't be it.

A lesson Garak had resisted learning on Cardassia was the need to back down at times, and to admit to a conversational partner that he didn't follow what was going on. Vulnerability was a danger, betraying his lack of information carried severe consequences, and stubborn adherence to a persona of understanding had nearly always served him well. These schemas never posed a problem until well into his time on Deep Space Nine - his non-Cardassian acquaintances seemed to be constantly calling him out on his lies, and worse still was that some of them seemed hurt by the behavior. It was a hard habit to break, but Dax encouraged him to practice as much as possible.

A version of her voice urged him now to put that skill to the test.

"...I must admit, I'm unfamiliar with this human..." - ‘disease’? Was it a disease? It stung to be this honest - "...Concept."

"Oh." It seemed to take a moment for him to fully realize the meaning. "Oh! Of course you would be."

Glancing from his friend's eyes down to the selection of fabrics on the table before them, Garak waited. Bashir reached for the farthest one and stroked it.

"Autism is, um... People with autism have differences in brain function, so they - we - experience difficulties in cognition, language, executing social behaviors, and... Sensory processing. Hence, the uniform."

"Ah, a mental disorder, then."

"Yes. Well," he furrowed his brow deeply and frowned, vigorously fiddling a corner of fabric in one hand, a face of concentration but lacking that same focus in voice, "it's not that simple, I suppose. But in a sense, it could be considered... A mental disorder." He seemed to regain his senses and treated the cloth with more care. "...I like this one, for the interior."

Pulling a few feet from the roll, Garak held the fabric in front of Bashir's body. "The color isn't quite right. I'll have to source some in a bluer shade."

"I think that'll do quite nicely, Garak."

Garak beamed. For all the hassle he liked to give Bashir, it pleased Garak to please him.

"So, um - do you have any questions?"

"Will you take off your jacket, Doctor?"

"I meant, about-"

"I understood. I do have some things I'm curious about." Garak paused for a moment. "These ‘cognitive difficulties’ - is that why you were unable to finish ‘In The Heart of The Devil’ ?"

Bashir grinned as he pulled the zipper down. "I think there's a fair number of factors we can blame before we pin it on autism."

"Oh, such as?"

"It's not cognitively taxing. I told you, it's just boring! " As it always did when he raised his voice, it sounded like Bashir had never yelled before in his life and was holding back for fear of hurting himself. He handed over the black and gray jacket.

"How does that human expression go - ‘there's no accounting for taste’?"

"Explain to me, where does the ‘taste’ lie in a forty-page monologue detailing The Conservator's entire life history of staunchly abiding by the law?"

"You should know by now, the-" Garak began, but was interrupted.

"I know, I know, it would be irresponsible -"

" Unconscionable! "

"- to leave any shadow of a doubt that the main character is a pristine example of an obedient Cardassian citizen."

When he finished, the room went completely quiet. Even from the other side of the Promenade, cries of ‘Dabo!’ could be heard. After several seconds of perfectly orchestrated dramatic silence, Garak spoke again.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Before we get any further in this discussion, tell me -" He held out a hand and touched Bashir's upper arm, "just who do you believe to be the main character of the novel?"

"Now, what kind of a question is that?" Bashir jerked away slightly, but the expression on his face seemed more playful than truly bothered.

"Humor me, Doctor."

"The Conservator! Obviously!"

"Of course you would think that." Pulling his hand away, Garak located an autoripper and ran it along several of the jacket's seams. He'd make the appropriate adjustments on this one, and use it as a guide in assembling the new one from scratch.

"What do you mean by that? " The doctor scoffed.

"I mean no insult, Doctor - your intellect is clearly intact - but your worldview reeks unmistakably of the culture in which you've lived." It took all the resolve and strength of will in his being to not add ‘Or perhaps I should say the lack thereof.’

"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!"

Garak blinked. "The pot and the kettle?"

"Earth idiom, meaning ‘to point out a quality in another that the speaker also possesses’." He poked Garak squarely in the chest to drive home his point. " Hypocrisy ."

Huffing, Garak continued. "Obviously, one must be inevitably shaped by his environment, no matter who he is. But the difference between you and I, Doctor, is one of choosing to expand one's horizons once he has been shaped. I find you Federation types are all too pleased to let your horizons stay just where they've always been." He handed the garment back over to be tried on. "Ironic, for a group that so prides itself in its quest for diversity ."

"You know, Garak, you always make such a point of, of positioning Cardassia as an other to the Federation, to draw upon our differences," Bashir paused until Garak hummed acknowledgement, with pins now held between his lips. "As unlikely as it is, I can't help but imagine what you'd do if Cardassia ever were to join the Federation. Half of our lunchtime debates would fall flat then and there."

Garak lifted a hand to his mouth to remove the sewing notions. "I shudder at the thought! You shouldn't even joke about the idea - for all you know, I might even lose my concentration enough that I could stab you with one of these pins!"

At this, Bashir laughed a little - a nervous and stuttered little noise, as if he wasn't sure whether to take the threat seriously - and squirmed under Garak's touch.

"...Why, accidentally , of course. Stop moving." Garak grabbed his friend by the shoulders, steadying him, then looked up to meet his eyes and smiled his best non-threatening plain and simple smile.

At this gesture, Bashir relaxed - marginally, but relaxed nonetheless. The ease with which the doctor would let his guard down, the minimal display of friendliness that it took, had always fascinated Garak. Such a demeanor would have made for a terrible operative in the Order. But, Garak supposed this unrelenting pleasantness was one of the factors that had most intrigued him and drawn him in to Bashir's acquaintance after the thrill of meeting wore off.

I still wonder if those holosuite programs of his are rigged.

"So if I'm wrong, about the main character," - He paused while Garak made an adjustment - "then why don't you enlighten me?"

"I don't recall telling you that you were wrong." Bashir opened his mouth, presumably to object, but Garak continued, "You really must hold still right now. Besides - the narrative's unraveling is its charm, I'd hate to spoil the story and rob you of the chance to experience it for yourself."

"Certainly." He held in a deep breath and spoke quietly, trying not to move as much as he could help it, but the sarcasm came through in his tone regardless.

For a while, Garak worked in pleasant silence, adding and removing pins around Bashir until the jacket fit just right - or, as close as he could get it, considering the material. In addition to rebuilding the inner components of the uniform from scratch with an analog of the old uniform’s material, he wanted to rebuild the jacket in a looser fit as well. For that, he had a particular fabric in mind, more breathable than its current construction but thicker and sturdier still than the inner material.

Eventually, Garak broke the silence.

"You say you have this ‘autism’. What is the social standing for humans with this disorder?"

"Well... That's sort of hard to say. Today, on Earth, autistic people are granted the same rights under the law as anyone else. I'm not big on history, but it used to be quite terrible, from what I've heard, in the pre-contact times... Now, in practice, it all depends on how well each individual is able to blend in or to make themselves useful. Some of our greatest scholars and artists have been on the spectrum." - Garak inferred that this phrase related in some way to autism, but made a mental note to ask about it later regardless - "But if you can't act normal and can't contribute, you won't get far."

Garak processed this for a moment.

"On Cardassia,” he began, “children with mental disorders are seen as a burden to the family. If an embryo is found to be defective, it's generally destroyed before viability. Those who are born tend to live out their lives in institutions."

"That's horrible." Bashir’s expression was a mix of sadness and disgust.

"Hm. We should both be grateful you weren't born on my homeworld, or the two of us would never have had a chance to be acquainted." Garak felt he was out of his element here - comfort had never really been in the repertoire of interactions modeled for him. "...For as much as my opinion is worth, you seem very ‘normal’ to me, Doctor."

Bashir stiffened a bit -

"That's because I've had my whole life to practice the act. And it comes at a price."

- And he didn’t seem at all pleased as he said it.

Garak wondered if he’d said or done the wrong thing. He didn’t understand why it would be the wrong thing - being normal was good - but he didn’t see any other apparent explanation for Bashir’s response.

"What is that price?"

" You've paid the price, Garak. Think of how cold it is here, and the havoc that that chronic stress wreaks on your body. Think of having to put on a face for your customers. Or having to pretend -" He searched for his words, "pretend to be an entirely different person than you are, never dropping the façade."

It’s no easy feat, but that’s simply the way life is, the way it has to be.

That’s what he’d been taught, at least.

You just have to suck it up.

Garak thought of his talks with Dax, though, and what she had said about the so-called flaws in his traditional Cardassian upbringing, and how he’d supposedly been ‘traumatized’ by it. She still didn’t have him fully convinced, but in the interest of respecting other cultures he felt it would be prudent to humor her here and not give voice to these critical thoughts.

"It seems it's been... Hard for you."

Bashir scoffed. "You don't know the half of it."

"Surely there are ways of treating the condition at its source."

"Oh, they tried. That's what the genetic enhancements were for."

"But they didn't work."

"Well, the treatments certainly changed me, there's no denying that. Before, I couldn't even pretend to be normal. Couldn't follow most conversations. It rid me of some of my difficulties. Gave me some new ones, as well. But as I said, I'll always be autistic. At the core, it's not something that can be... Extracted. It's just who I am."

"I see.” He wasn’t sure he truly did, but he was trying to. Plus, it seemed what his friend needed right now was to feel understood. “And those genetic enhancements - that is the only treatment option?"

"More or less. If you can even call it a ‘treatment’. Of course, there's also the option to just try to bully and torture the disability away. My father gave me a plentiful taste of that .” As if sensing that Garak was going to say something on the choice of words - he wasn’t - Bashir continued, “I mean - what, what he did wasn't quite tantamount to torture, on a physical level, but... I've heard stories."

The work on the uniform had been paused and forgotten by now.

"The method I believe you're describing is seen as the golden standard for those Cardassian children who are well enough to avoid institutionalization but who don't quite conform to societal expectations."

"Somehow I doubt the Cardassian parents who employ it would recognize it as bullying." Bashir’s voice turned from that aggrieved and hurt tone to something a little softer, sweeter - bordering on sympathetic in a way that made Garak’s scales crawl.

"What we would call a stern hand has often been labeled ‘abusive’ by outsiders."

Meant to be a deflection, Garak’s statement seemed to have the opposite effect. The doctor’s sympathy now appeared as full-blown compassion across his face, and Garak found himself wishing desperately that he hadn’t turned the conversation in this direction at all.

He worried for a moment that Dax had forgotten her vow of confidentiality as a counselor, that she’d spaced out like she always did and let slip Garak’s tales of childhood woe, that Bashir’s unsolicited care here stemmed from pitying Garak in the knowledge of what Tain used to do to him.

But, he reminded himself, Tain likely already appeared as a less-than-ideal father in Bashir’s eyes - even aside from the issue of the closet. That was probably the reason for the sympathy, and that was a somewhat more tolerable explanation.

Still, it made him uneasy. He decided to change the subject.

"There's another thing I don't understand, Doctor."

He felt that he was treading on unsteady ground here, perhaps throwing knives at the vole’s nest, but he wanted to fully understand the issue, and as it was he barely understood.

He could also tell that Bashir had some mixed and unspoken feelings on the matter, and may need a well-placed push in order to work through them. He took in a breath and continued.

"You struggle due to your autism." Bashir nodded in acknowledgement. "And your suffering is compounded as well by your efforts to deny your autism." He paused again - now Bashir did not nod - and he continued, "Your parents - your father - made the decision to have you altered, in an attempt to fix you - arguably, a decision made with your well-being in mind."

Bashir shifted uncomfortably where he stood. He didn’t meet Garak’s eyes. Garak continued:

"Had it gone as they'd wished, you'd be free of this affliction. Yet you resent your parents for what they did. Why?"

"Well, they haven't ever given me a good reason not to resent them! What kind of a thing to say is that? What kind of a question is that?" Bashir had been so quiet before, seemed so perturbed, that when he spoke now Garak startled. Preparing to explain his rationale, Garak opened his mouth to speak, but Bashir interrupted him. "No - I know this is new to you, I don't fault you for that. And that's hardly the first time I've heard the sentiment."

It was a small comfort, at least, to know their relationship’s standing had not been injured. Bashir’s voice rose - again, with that quality of trepidation - as he carried on.

"It's because it was my life and body and future, and they made the choice for me without any regard for what I wanted. And- and I know it's different, on... On Cardassia... But on Earth there are these expectations for how a child is to be treated - with respect, as if they were an adult, and with patience, gentleness, care, and love, because, because they are a child. "

He stopped only long enough to take a breath.

"There was no respect in that decision, no respect at all for my autonomy, my capacity to think or to have my own desires... Even if it was in a different capacity than other children. No patience to see what kind of person I could have become... They said it was because they loved me, and I'm sure they think they do - Oh, I bet it really feels like love, to them at least - but it's not a love that I recognize. And..."

After this trailing off, Garak stood there, and waited. The pause stretched on, Bashir’s face turned away to look at something on the other side of the shop, until Garak began to wonder if he’d even had anything more to say at all, or if maybe he’d simply forgotten to keep talking.

When he did pick up again, the sound of it was low and sorrowful.

"...It's not a bad thing. To be autistic. To have a child who is. I thought it was, for so long, because of all this. You know, you hear about it," - at this, Garak thought to himself, he didn’t hear about it, but he understood the meaning behind it - "you hear someone's just found out their little girl has autism, and you're supposed to feel sorry for them, pity them, grieve everything she's holding her family back from doing. And her subjective experience? Even if she's a healthy and happy and joyful child, it doesn't matter. It's ‘tragic’, only I don't think it really is."

Bashir sighed. "I've friends who are autistic, too, except they're not all augments like me. And I don't think anything - not a single thing - is wrong with them. As, as people, that is, of course there are sleep disturbances and digestive disorders, and - but, as people , they've as much a right to exist as anyone.” He raised his voice again as he said this. Despite feeling like a stranger to the nature of the conversation, Garak couldn’t help but admire Bashir’s passion. “ We have a right to exist. I do, and I don't have to pretend I've risen ‘above’ autism somehow to acknowledge that, I think. And I damn well don't have to be thankful to the people who tried to make me into something I'm not."

He turned back to face Garak again, seeming to have finally lost his steam. "I don't know... I'm sorry for blowing up on you like that, Garak."

"If that's the worst you have in store for me when ‘blowing up’, I should consider myself lucky." He delivered this with an easy smile, but then felt perhaps it wasn’t appropriate. I don’t know what else to say . Garak cleared his throat. "...Evidently, this is something which you feel strongly about."

After a moment, Bashir nodded. "It is. It's confusing, too - because I still don't feel good about it. I know that it's right. That being like this is just another way to exist, and that it's not a lesser way of being. But I suppose the damage's been done and I can't seem to internalize it for myself. I treat patients who are autistic. I told you, I have friends who are. They're proud of it. And at the same time, they're people who are whole and complex. When I think about - about Doctor Julian Bashir, Chief Medical Officer... I don't know. It's different. I can't imagine being taken seriously."

Garak wrapped his fingers loosely around Bashir’s wrist, hoping the reassurance in the action came through. "I won't claim to entirely understand the position you're in. You are... Aware of the differences in our cultures."

People who were disabled, and people who otherwise failed or refused to conform, didn’t exist in the public eye in Cardassian culture. Those who were in any way different had to make a choice between hiding it (and hiding it well) or living on the fringes. Anything less would place too much power in the mind of the citizen - power that came at the expense of the state.

They both knew this, though. To point it out anyway, though intended to illustrate his point, could be construed as rubbing it in.

It made him uneasy to show sentiment and vulnerability, just as it had stung to be honest, but there was no one else in the galaxy that Garak would rather be so sentimental toward. He continued.

"Should anyone judge you for a congenital difference, let them judge. Your merit as a doctor and as a friend will more than prove that judgment to be a reflection of their own character rather than yours."

"...You really mean that, Garak?"

He nodded - using such explicitly caring vocal language would have been too much in that moment. Being this open was beginning to wear him down, and the line had to be drawn somewhere. He let Bashir’s wrist fall from his grip, and gestured to take the jacket in his hands. "... Are you familiar with the Vulcan philosophy of ‘Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations’?"

"Passably familiar." Bashir smiled. "It hadn't occurred to me to apply that philosophy here."

"Some Vulcan you are."

Bashir’s optimistic little smile turned to a grin, and he chuckled boisterously, wrestling the jacket off without dislodging any of its pins. "Thank you."

"What did I say about happy clients?"

"Still, you didn't have to... Do this. It means a lot."

It was true. He wouldn’t do this - act this way, be so willing to talk and to truly listen, be so friendly - with any other client.

"Hm." He smiled. "Now, tell me, my dear Doctor - what has brought this all up all of a sudden?"

"I'm glad you asked. Recently, I received a subspace message from a friend of mine serving on the Enterprise, Commander Data -"

"The android?"

With palpable enthusiasm, Bashir nodded and continued.

Garak had a feeling the conversation would prove to be very interesting yet.

------

------

end notes:

1) julian’s feelings here are largely reflective of my own point of view regarding autism back when i was a teen. i knew it was something normal and value-neutral that i had to accept about myself, but at the same time i felt fine calling it a disorder/illness and i heard sentiments from others that made me feel ashamed of it, so my feelings were very complicated. having since made more autistic friends and engaged more with online disabled (+ disability activist) communities as a whole, i have a much healthier happier viewpoint/understanding of my autism now. hopefully julian can obtain that as well.

2) mega thanks to my handsome genius wife for giving me the idea “julian goes to garak for help getting some sensory-friendly clothes for his autism”. accordingly, i wanna dedicate this story to my beloved schizospectrum brethren. no one has made me feel as understood, as worthwhile, or as human in my autism as they have.

3) i actually wrote up several paragraphs about ‘in the heart of the devil’ detailing its premise, because at first i thought it would be a lot more involved in this story - here’s that, if you wish to see.

[khantoelessar]

Hogan’s timeline prior to Stalag 13

The purpose of this meta is to make an attempt at trying to fit Robert Hogan’s timeline pre-Stalag 13 to match something close to that of the actual historical timeline of World War II. I’m not saying this is actual canon, more like suggesting a possibility to stimulate conversation about Hogan’s timeline before being shot down and also an interest in World War II itself.

There are going to be holes in my theory. I’m well aware of this. However, trying to fit Hogan’s Heroes canon timeline to actual historical timeline is like trying to piece it together with baling wire, duct tape and glue. But that is half the fun anyway.

So on we go.

Our first semi-confirmed date for the series is the pilot episode which tells us it is the winter of 1942.

We also have a semi-confirmed date from A Tiger Hunt in Paris that “Frank Dirken” escaped Stalag 13 December 1942. Now America entered the war when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour on 7 December, 1941. Roosevelt officially declared war on Germany on 11 December, 1941.

But actual hostilities did not commence right away. There was the problem of getting all those men and material across the Atlantic but also, and I mean no disrespect to the Americans when I point this out, but due to America’s neutrality and non-intervention policy a majority of those in uniform at that time had no combat experience.

What this means in terms of Robert Hogan’s past prior to Stalag 13 is that it greatly constricts the time Hogan would have had to fight if he had first arrived in Britain with the rest of the USAAF. The first of the US 8th Air Force didn’t arrive in Britain until 12 May, 1942. (1) The first joint RAF/USAAF bombing raid was in the Netherlands on 4 July, 1942 (2) and the first solo US bombing raid in Europe was on 17 August, 1942, over Rouen. (3)

This would leave at the very most seven months for Hogan to not only establish his reputation as a bomber commander but also get shot down and then get the Stalag 13 operation up and running. In “Happiness is a Warm Sergeant” Le Beau says:

Le Beau: “Maybe we can tame [Kreb]. If he likes strudel.”

Hogan: “Come on. It took us six months to get Schultz to look the other way.”

Le Beau couldn’t have gotten the ingredients to make the strudel that is Schultz’s main bribe prior to the operation being set up, not from a POW camp.

Then there was the raid on the submarine base in Breman mentioned in “Two Nazis for the Price of One.”

Hogan: “I supposed you’re talking about the bombing mission I flew against your secret submarine base in Breman.”

There were three raids on Breman between May and December of 1942. 3-4 June, 25 – 28 June and 19 November. However there were other raids prior to that. (4)

One more interesting detail that I want to add before putting forward my theory as to Hogan’s timeline is that the first of the B17 flying fortresses saw action in Britain when the RAF used them to bomb Wilhelmshaven on 18 July, 1941. (5)

So here’s my theory. Hogan was flying for Great Britain before the US entered the war. There have been fanfics written on this which I highly recommend. However there is one snag with them. Hogan could not have been enlisted in the US Army Airforce when he did so. Not only was the US officially neutral in the war until 7 December, 1941 but it was illegal for US citizens to fly for Great Britain under America’s neutrality laws. But many did so by sneaking across the border into Canada with false papers, claiming to be Canadian or of other nationalities and travelling to Britain to join the RAF. (6) I think it is worth taking a moment to honour the courage of those men and what they risked. In the beginning the United States did not take these transgressions lightly as this story posted on the Warfare History Network attests.

“As they boarded the train for Montreal, the two Americans tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. They were well aware that if they were caught they would be in trouble. At the very least, they would be sent back to the United States. There was also the possibility that they could be sent to prison, as well as fined more money than they had seen in their entire lives.

At the Canadian border, the train stopped and several sinister looking officials got on board. They wanted to know where the two were going and why.

“We’re on our way to Montreal to see a cousin who runs a fish hatchery,” was the reply. One of the unsmiling officials—probably an FBI agent—wanted to know if they were fliers. “Don’t be silly. Do we look like fliers?”

The officials were apparently satisfied by the reply. One of them opened the suitcases of the two travelers and rummaged through the top layer of clothing. He did not look any deeper. If he had, he would have found what he was looking for—flying helmets, goggles, and logbooks. Instead, he closed the lid and wished the young fellows a pleasant trip.

The two Americans, Eugene “Red” Tobin and Andy Mamedoff, were not smuggling contraband. They were going to Canada to enlist in the air force of a foreign country which, in the early weeks of 1940, was against the law. “The Federal Bureau of Investigation kept a pretty close check on all Americans going to Canada,” Red Tobin later said, “so we had to watch our step.”

You can read the rest of the article here. (7)

The men who chose to go to Canada risked not only fines and imprisonment but also loss of their citizenship. (8)

It wasn’t until 19 November, 1941 that Britain officially revealed that there were three squadrons of American pilots called the Eagle Squadrons. (9)

Another fact the prohibits Hogan being part of the USAAF prior to the American entry is that prior to the war America had start to build up its own armed forces. (10) It began on 15 June, 1940. By 7 December, 1941 they had over 2 million in all branches. (11) This means that the USAAF was in desperate need of competent and skilled pilots to not only lead attacks but also to train new ones in its Air Corp tactical school. (12)

Combine these and I think it highly unlikely that the USAAF would have turned a blind eye to one of its best and most brilliant tactical pilots and officers to go AWOL to fight for a foreign country, especially at a time when the isolationist movement was strong.

There is another route open to Hogan having fought for the RAF and even during the Battle of Britain that I would like to explore here as a possible . . . let’s say, alternative headcanon.

He could have taken the route mentioned earlier by those other Americans, crossing the border into Canada, getting training there and then going onto Britain. I can see Hogan doing something like this. In the face of the news of repeated atrocities being committed by the Nazis and his country refusing to get involved, I can see Hogan taking on a false identity and slipping across the border in order to join the fight.

But this is also the same reason I think that Hogan was not allowed to go AWOL from the US Army. It would have violated Roosevelt’s Neutrality Laws, even though he declared,

This would have crossed to far over that line, to have an American USAAF officer openly fighting with the British, especially after Hogan started gaining fame as a war ace and bomber commander. If he was so feared by the Nazis that Biedenbender was jumped from Colonel to General;

Biendenbender: “You see I am the reason you are now here as a prisoner of war.” Hogan: “Thanks.” Biendenbender: “When the bombing raids of the squadron you commanded started to become . . . oh slightly annoying to the Third Reich I was assigned to study your tactics, to get inside your head, I know everything about you . . . so I was able to predict precisely the planning of your last bombing raid on Hamburg in which you were shot down, and I, hah, I was shot up to a General.”

then his fame would definitely have spread to the Commonwealth and then to America.

This is why I put forward the possibility that Hogan never enlisted in the USAAF. Also, Wikipedia states “None of the Eagle Squadron pilots had previously served in the USAAF and did not have US pilot wings.” (14)

There is the option that Hogan never joined the Eagle squadrons directly but flew for the RAF separately. First of all, according to the Wikipedia site (13) none of the Eagle squadrons flew bombers, let alone B17s. Also, in the episode “Some of Their Planes are Missing” and “Funny Thing Happened on the Way to London” we are told that Hogan was attached to the RAF.

If we take this into account when we look at Hogan’s timeline, we get a lot more room for Hogan to have accomplished all that he did. If he snuck across the border into Canada under a false identity prior or during the Battle of Britain which was July through September 1940 (15) he would have over a year of experience, including making his bombing runs on Breman before being finally transferred over to the USAAF and the 504th bomb squadron once America entered the war. The same Wikipedia site quoted before also states that the ranks in the RAF were transferred after some negotiations to the nearest equivalent rank.

There is another detail from the series that supports Hogan’s story links to Britain and the RAF over that of the USAAF and that is the fact that he reports to London, not Washington. Almost all his links to the Allies are British. There are a few Americans, General Barton in “The General Swap”, General Tilman in “How to Cook a German Goose with Radar”, the captain of that submarine in “The Pizza Parlour” and we do see the alliance of the British and the Americans in “Easy Come, Easy Go”.

But other than that all of his contacts and command structure that he reports to are British. There is no mention of the OSS or of Washington. When Hogan is flown back to England for the briefing before D-Day in “D-Day at Stalag 13” the General (we are not given a name) is British, not American and the “old man” they refer to is Churchill, not Roosevelt.

General: “Even to tell you this much this much had to be cleared at the highest level of intelligence, the Old Man himself.”

Hogan could have been one of those Americans who crossed the border into Canada, got false papers there and traveled to Britain to joined the RAF. He didn’t join the Eagle Squadrons (although I can see him qualifying on the spitfires because they were one of the best planes out there) because he’d been transferred to Bomber Command. When America entered the war, he transferred to the USAAF with the equivalent rank of Colonel and put in charge of the 504th bomb group (even though in reality the 504th flew in the Pacific theatre and not the European one and was part of the 20th Air Force) because by then his reputation had long since proceeded him. He was part of the US mass bombing raid on Ploesti on 12 June, 1942 (16) but was shot down after that and was transferred to Stalag 13 just about the same time as Klink, who (I’m assuming was there to solve the massive escape problems) as we are told in “The Kommadant Dies at Dawn”

Hogan: “Are you kidding, before I arrived you had so many escapes they were going to put a revolving door at the front gate.”

Now like I said this headcanon is not water proof. There are some holes that I can’t fill.

Hogan does say that he was assigned to the Pentagon in “Klink vs the Gonculator”

As mentioned previously, I don’t think the Army would have let him go AWOL to fight for a foreign country if he was already an officer.

On the other hand I should point out that he was talking to Klink and was running one of his cons on him. It is also possible that he was assigned briefly to the Pentagon after Pearl Harbour but before he was shot down. His experience and connections in the RAF would have been invaluable. So maybe this possible headcanon of mine still holds water.

There are also other people who could have taken this path to the war and that is Kinch and every other black POW in Stalag 13.

The Tuskegee Airmen, the only black American squadron in World War II were first deployed overseas in North Africa on 24 April, 1943. (17) That’s too late for Kinch and the other black POWs to be shot down and sent to Stalag 13.

But while the American forces were segregated Canada and Great Britain weren’t quite so insistent on it. They couldn’t afford to be. This is not to say there wasn’t discrimination. Both Canada and Britain did have discriminatory practices (18) (19) that limited enrollment to all but the most general positions to those not of white European descent. But in practice a person of colour’s ability to not only enlist but to serve in a role beyond that of support personal depended very much on the recruitment officer as shown in this story.

“In 1939 the so-called colour bar that prevented black people from serving in the British forces was formally lifted, largely because the Second World War meant that the Army, Navy and Air Force needed to recruit as many men as possible.

The lifting of the bar didn’t necessarily mean it was easy for would-be West Indian recruits to get in however.

There were people who would try three or four times to get in, or pay their own passage to come to Britain from the Caribbean.

Another route in was via the Royal Canadian Air Force. Canada may have been freezing cold but it was considered to be a warm and tolerant place for prospective black servicemen.

Billy Strachan couldn’t get into the RAF, so he sold his trumpet and used the money to pay his own passage to travel through U-boat-infested seas to London. He arrived at Adastral House in Holborn and declared his desire to join the RAF. The corporal at the door told him to “piss off.”

Happily however, an officer walked past who turned out to be rather more welcoming. He asked Strachan where he was from, to which Strachan replied  “I’m from Kingston.”

“Lovely, I’m from Richmond” beamed the officer.

Strachan explained that he meant Kingston, Jamaica.

Shortly after that, he was training for aircrew.”

He went on to do a tour as a navigator in Bomber Command, then retrained as a pilot and flew with the 96th squadron.” (20)

See this link for the full story.

There were black fighter pilots in the RAF as shown in the links above. Not only that there were women of colour as well, such as Lilian Bader who joined the WAAF and Noor Inayat Khan who was one of the Special Operations Executive’s top agents in France. (21)

This is not to say that there wasn’t discrimination against people of colour in Canada and Britain. There certain were as the websites quoted here show.

But the racism was not as bad or as extreme as it was in the United States. People of colour could fill high ranking and highly visible prominent positions in the Second World War as shown in this article here. (22)

So this is a route that Kinch, Baker and the other black POWs could have taken to Stalag 13. Sneaking across the border, getting fake papers, training in Canada and then heading to Britain.

One of the holes in this possible theory is the issue of their uniforms. Unlike the American pilots who were white the black Americans pilots (if there were any) would not have been have been given equivalent rank in the USAAF or even been allowed to fly in the Eagle Squadrons once they were transferred to the USAAF. America was adamant on segregation, as shown here,  (23) something that caused extreme tension in Britain.

While there was racism in Britain towards people of colour the racial hatred demonstrated towards black servicemen by the American G.I.s came as a shock to the British population. (24)

Hogan could have protested segregation all he wanted, demanded Kinch be allowed to fly until he was blue in the face (assuming he and Kinch did know each other as implied in “Prince of the Phone Company” episode).

Kinch: “Hogan?” Hogan: “Robert. Hogan.” Kinch: “Ha Ha! Of course! I went to school with this man in America.”

The Americans would not allow an integrated air force. At best Kinch and the other black pilots would have been sent back to the States to join the Tuskegee airmen.

At this point there are two routes open for Kinch and the other black POWs to have been in Stalag 13 in time to help Hogan start his operation. One, they had been shot down prior to the arrival of the 8th Army USAAF in Britain by 12 May 1942.

The second option is that they remained with the RAF instead of transferring to the USAAF. As this article point out some of the Eagle Squadron members decided to remain with the RAF instead of transferring to the USAAF. (25)

So my theory for a possible route could work for Kinch as well as for Hogan. They could have both snuck into Canada as civilians, got official training and then joined the RAF. Hogan joined bomber command and gained his reputation as a war ace and tactician then joined the USAAF after America entered the war. Kinch was either shot down on a mission just before 12 May 1942 or remained with the RAF and was shot down later. Hogan flew several more missions until Bienderbender overwhelmed him. The Red Cross would have notified Britain about Kinch and the others and Britain in turn would have notified the US who in turn would have had the American Red Cross send the black POWs American uniforms.

This may have led to a reduction in rank for Kinch. The role of navigator (originally titled observer in the RAF) which he fills in “Hogan throws a birthday party”,

was usually filled by commissioned officer, see link (26), but could hold any rank from airman second class to Group Captain. The rank of flight sergeant in the RAF is the equivalent of a Master Sergeant in the USAAF. But if Kinch held a rank higher than that (which seems likely given the skill and high level of responsibility) then his being a sergeant in Stalag 13 would have meant a reduction in rank.

But as I said, this is just speculation on my part in an attempt to try and put the canon of Hogan’s Heroes into something that fits the actual historical timeline. I freely admit that there are holes in my theory.

Which is why I’m saying that this theory of mine is put forward as a possible alternative route that Hogan, Kinch and the other black POWs could have taken to get to Stalag 13 and leave them enough time for them to do all that they did and I hope it stimulates discussion and thought and (not to sound like I’m getting on a soap box here but I love research) a desire to research World War 2 for interest in the subject. Certainly that is what Hogan’s Heroes did for me.

Sources

1.      World War II Database: https://m.ww2db.com/event/today/05/12/1942

2.      History.net: https://www.historynet.com/first-usaac-raf-joint-combat-mission-july-4th-1942.htm

3.      World War II today: https://ww2today.com/17th-august-1942-the-usaaf-makes-its-first-raid-on-occupied-europe

4.      Bombing of Bremen in World War II: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bombing_of_Bremen_in_World_War_II

5.      World War II Database: https://ww2db.com/aircraft_spec.php?aircraft_model_id=4 \

6.      Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-British_personnel_in_the_RAF_during_the_Battle_of_Britain#United_States

7.      Warfare History Network: https://warfarehistorynetwork.com/2017/01/18/americans-in-the-royal-air-force/

8.      Royal Air Force Museum: https://www.rafmuseum.org.uk/research/online-exhibitions/americans-in-the-royal-air-force/eagle-squadrons/

9.      WWII: The Complete War Report. Directed by Various. Mill Creek Entertainment. 2017

10.  Not Even Past: https://notevenpast.org/inching-towards-war-military-preparedness-in-the-1930s/

11.  National World War II Museum: https://www.nationalww2museum.org/students-teachers/student-resources/research-starters/research-starters-us-military-numbers

12.  The US Army Airforces in World War 2: https://media.defense.gov/2010/Nov/05/2001329898/-1/-1/0/aaf_wwii-v1-2.pdf (pages 85 & 142)

13.  Teaching American History: https://teachingamericanhistory.org/library/document/radio-address-delivered-by-president-roosevelt-from-washington/

14.  Wikipedia: Eagle Squadrons: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eagle_Squadrons

15.  Britannica.com: https://www.britannica.com/event/Battle-of-Britain-European-history-1940

16.  142nd wing : https://www.142fw.ang.af.mil/News/Article-Display/Article/1211286/redhawk-reflections-on-the-first-american-mission-in-europe-1942/

17.  Tuskegee Airman: https://www.tuskegee.edu/Content/Uploads/Tuskegee/files/TUSKEGEE_AIRMEN_CHRONOLOGY12.2011.pdf (page 9)

18.  Historyhit.com: https://www.historyhit.com/was-the-raf-especially-receptive-to-black-servicemen-in-world-war-two/

19.  CBC.ca: https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/black-canadians-second-world-war-1.5793974

20.  Historyhit.com: Was the RAF Especially Receptive to Black Servicemen in World War Two? | History Hit

21.  Second World War Experience Centre: https://war-experience.org/lives/noor-inayat-khan-soe/

22.  Royal Air Force Musuem: https://www.rafmuseum.org.uk/research/online-exhibitions/pilots-of-the-caribbean/across-the-commands/

23.  Royal Air Force Museum: https://www.rafmuseum.org.uk/research/online-exhibitions/pilots-of-the-caribbean/answering-the-call/the-second-world-war-1939-to-1945-segregation/  

24.  Theconversation.com: https://theconversation.com/black-troops-were-welcome-in-britain-but-jim-crow-wasnt-the-race-riot-of-one-night-in-june-1943-98120

25.  The National Interest: https://nationalinterest.org/blog/reboot/these-americans-flew-royal-air-force-during-world-war-ii-168713

26.  Wikipedia: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/RAF_Bomber_Command_aircrew_of_World_War_II

[freebooter4ever]

The final part of this fic series which no one asked for but i finished anyway lol - third section deals with fighting in the rain on Okinawa, coming home, and settling down together in a house.

---

In the beginning of the campaign, Okinawa is a respite from the heat. After the easy landing, and the easier invasion, many of the guys start dropping their guard. It's too tempting to revel in the cool air, and ignore the minor discomfort (compared to battle) of hauling heavy packs along muddy roads. But every night in their foxholes they remember they're at war.

One night, when Eugene wakes Snafu up for his watch, he also leans in for a quick peck on the lips. Snafu thinks Eugene's finally lost it. He keeps one careful eye on Eugene and refuses to sleep for an entire day and a half after that. Yet during every switch of their watch, Eugene continues to kiss him. Like it's normal, like it should be expected. Snafu gives in. If it's just the two of them in their hole, he lets Eugene snuggle in close. Snafu starts sleeping better, and when he wakes Eugene for his own watch, Snafu starts kissing him too. There's never any urge for anything more, with the long heavy marches and the constant state of slight hunger, having any feelings beyond numbness is hard. But the little kisses are a reminder of good things. Snafu indulges in the comfort of them so much that the one time they share a foxhole with Burgie, Snafu completely fucking forgets himself. Earlier in the day they'd found a source of fresh water and Eugene washed his whole head, scrubbing the grime from his neck. His lips are bright and pink again, and when Snafu catches sight of them in the dim light of a flare as he goes to wake Eugene up for his watch, Snafu doesn't stop to think. "Sledgehammer," Snafu whispers in Eugene's ear. He pulls back just enough to make eye contact and ensure Eugene's awake. And then Snafu dips in for a kiss. Their helmets make the familiar soft 'thud' when they collide, and for a minute Eugene melts into Snafu, and kisses back. Then Eugene suddenly shoves Snafu away and glances over at the third person sharing the foxhole with them. Snafu glances at Burgie too, wide eyed, and scared, and wondering how this is going to go. Burgie doesn't even look shocked. "You guys think you're quiet but I kept having to leave the tent on Pavuvu almost hourly just to escape the noise from you both." "Shit," Eugene swears. "Stop watching me, watch the line, get your head on straight Sledgehammer," Burgie orders, "I'm not going to say anything to anyone. And the only reason I'd tell you to quit it with the kissing is if you end up in a hole with someone else less understanding. Understand?" "Sure thing, Burgie," Snafu says with a wash of relief. Burgie becomes their automatic third whenever the company is divided into groups, and Snafu stops trying to hide his affection for Eugene during that time. Eugene is a little more reserved. Snafu is the one who needs constant physical contact whenever he can get it. Something as simple as gripping Eugene's hand while they are waiting behind a rock for their march to get moving again is a lifeline. But living on top of each other also means lashing out when the real battles get too much to handle. Once the rain starts, and almost washes them away alongside the mud, the lazy sunny days of marching seem like fond memories. Snafu is cold and wet and his body won't stop shivering with it. Long after Snafu gives up, Eugene continues to try and dig their private little foxhole like the stubborn asshole he is. "Don't even bother," Snafu trills at Gene from underneath the tarp where he's huddled with Burgin and Hamm, "Nobody wants to squat in a cold stinky bowl of muddy water tonight." "We need a foxhole," Eugene demands angirly. Snafu sighs. They're not at the very front line, there's no compelling reason for Gene to be this insistent. Snafu knows what Eugene really wants - without a foxhole, without somewhere to hide, the two of them won't be able to share each other's warmth. Plus out of all of them, Eugene is the least likely to ever break protocol. He goes by the book, he swears by it to stay alive, and his foxhole is always an exact depth and five feet from everybody else no matter what. Usually Snafu admires this about Gene. Tonight it's driving him nuts. "Sit down, Gene!" he orders. "Not until I can sit in a damn hole!" Eugene yells back. They shout at each other for longer than Snafu feels comfortable with. If Eugene were to decide that Snafu isn't worth putting up with anymore, Snafu isn't sure he would survive. "Fuck you Eugene," Snafu whines

halfheartedly as the yelling slowly peeters out. "Fuck you too, Shelton ," Eugene spits and throws down his entrenching tool. His anger is slower to fizzle out. But Snafu can see how hard he's trying by the set of his shoulders. He doesn't want to be mad at Snafu either. "Why don't you come over here and lend a hand? 'stead of sitting there like a bump on the log?" Eugene suggests, only a tad snippily. Snafu closes his eyes and grimaces. He shakes his head and raindrops fly off his helmet, "Gene...just…" he flops his arm out of the poncho and makes an awkward beckoning gesture. Eugene sighs and squelches over to sit beside Snafu. Snafu leans against him until their heads are touching. Eugene lets him do this. So Snafu takes it a step further and scoots his entire body over until they're flush against each other. When he gets away with that too, Snafu daringly presses his face into Eugene's neck. He's so close he could lick the rain and dirt off Gene's skin. "I can feel your stinking breath, Snafu," Eugene complains. Snafu just takes a deeper breath and exhales. It's a testament to how much Eugene loves him that he doesn't automatically shove Snafu away. Eugene pulls his helmet off, tilts his head up to look at the rain and feel it hit his face. Snafu leans back a little to watch him, enjoying the sight of the water running down his neck. Eugene always looks beautiful when wet, no matter how frustrated Snafu is at him. Unexpectedly Eugene's eyes dart to Snafu. "Snaf…!" He exclaims quietly, realization dawning in his eyes, "On Pavuvu...in the rain, you had that same dazed look. You were watching me, weren't you?" Snafu bites his lip and looks away. "Was that the reason for the…you know… after…" Eugene's brain is doing some quick thinking and Snafu can see it in his eyes. 'Yes Sledgehammer,' Snafu wants to say, 'I watched you scrub your supple body in the rain and got such a boner, it gave me anxiety.' Instead he shrugs. Eugene starts laughing. "I was all wet," Snafu says defensively, "Couldn't hide a thing." Eugene keeps laughing, almost going hysterical. "It shouldn't have happened. Don't know why it did," Snafu insists, "You dropped the fucking soap. You said 'whoopsie daisy'. Who the fuck even says that anymore except for old geezers?" Eugene just laughs. "What are you guys talking about?" Hamm asks "Nothing that concerns you, Hambone," Snafu says warning. "Snafu, leave him be," Eugene says with a vague annoyance in his voice, "And stop calling him that." Snafu smiles. And then cuts his eyes at Eugene, "Shit, you're jealous. You miss being the only one with a special nickname? That it?" "I said…" Eugene states calmly, "Leave it be." "Don't you worry, Sledgehammer," Snafu teases, "No nickname is as special as yours." "Mer…" Eugene warns, using his own personal nickname for Snafu as if it's a threat. Something he usually only whispers when no one else can hear. "Bon Bon," Snafu says gleefully. Eugene glares at Snafu. "Bon Bon?" Hamm questions. "Bondourant," Snafu explains, "Sledgehammer's middle name." "No one calls me that," Eugene grumbles and crams his helmet back on his head. He shifts further down into the mud and compacts himself into a pissy huddle under his poncho. "Even you don't call me that," he accuses Snafu. "Might be a missed opportunity there," Snafu says, "could'a caught on faster than 'Sledgehammer' if I'd thought of it first. Fits you better. Kinda like 'Hambone' makes more sense than two 'M's." "Shelton, just leave everybody alone," Eugene complains. Snafu can hear the real anger in his lover's voice now. The humor, and the teasing somehow soured the mood instead of lightening it. He doesn't understand how Eugene could possibly be jealous of something as silly as a nickname. Feeling bereft, Snafu wiggles his arm out of his own poncho and under Gene's, but secretly so no one catches on to what they are doing. Snafu persistently tugs on Eugene's sleeve until Gene relents and moves his hand closer so Snafu can grasp it tight. Snafu squeezes his hand and Eugene finally

turns to meet his eyes. Snafu's apology is wordless, but it works. Eugene scoots over to Snafu till they are huddled together once more. "You guys an old married couple or something?" Hamm jokes when he sees how they've 'made up' after their fight. "The equivalent of it," Burgie answers with some humor of his own. "Burgie's jealous," Snafu quips. "Don't start, Mer," Eugene tells him quietly. "He misses his Aussie girlfriend," Snafu continues, "Wishes he had what Gene and I've got right here…" Snafu grins, like it's all a joke. "What do Gene and you have?" Hamm asks. "Absolutely nothing," Eugene says coldly. It's entirely too believable for Snafu's comfort. Which shuts him up real quick. Snafu thinks maybe he went too far. Maybe he revealed too much in front of Hamm. Unfortunately what Hambone does or doesn't know quickly becomes a moot point. In a flash the green boot is gone, and Eugene and Snafu are alone in their foxhole once more. As the guilt sets in, Snafu distances himself. He stops giving Eugene little kisses, he stops touching him altogether. Eugene doesn't seem to notice. He certainly doesn't react. After peace is declared, the options for Snafu's life narrow considerably. Everyone else starts thinking about 'what next'. He can't relate. He should be on the first boat home, before anyone else in K Company. He's got extra points from his battle on Gloucester which technically puts him months before Eugene on the list. But when he thinks about heading home without his Sledgehammer, he feels physically sick. He starts avoiding Gene in order to avoid this illness… until Burgie catches on and finally confronts him. "Snafu, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Burgie demands. Snafu blanches at his tone and thinks about slinking away silently, but quickly realizes Burgie has him boxed in on all sides. They're in the mechanics shop and Snafu is tinkering with an unused boat, hoping to sneak it out for joyrides round the island. The shop is small and everywhere Snafu turns there's Marines and work being done. Burgie is blocking Snafu's only route for escape. "If Florence was here I would not be wasting so much time," Burgie glares at Snafu. "Except what you and Florence get up to is legal," Snafu says evasively. "Is that what's bothering you?" Burgie looks deeply flabbergasted, "You think Sledge will… rat you out? Or something?" Snafu glances around surreptitiously and juts into Burgie's personal space to whisper, "Nice Alabama boys don't break the law." "Snafu, you know Sledge cares more about you than dumb laws," Burgie hisses, "Stop hiding from him." "He always knows where to find me," Snafu turns back to his boat and pretends Burgie isn't there. "Chicken," Burgie says. "I'm not the one clucking like a mother hen," Snafu retorts. "Yeah but you're the one fucking your own life up," Burgie says. "Naw," Snafu argues, "I'm making sure not to fuck his." "Grow up, Snaf," Burgie mutters. Snafu makes a chicken clucking noise as Burgie walks away. But as soon as Burgie is gone, Snafu throws down his tools in frustration at his tinkering not fucking working, and then kicks the hull of the boat in anger. He breaks his big toe. And is officially ordered bed rest until further notice. Eugene is the one to bring him ice packs round the clock as Snafu is laid up in bed. Snafu can hobble to and from the head, but that's about it. The tent they're stationed in is huge and always full of people so Snafu can never respond properly to Eugene's unasked for kindness. The most he does is say grudging 'thank you's whenever Eugene drops off ice or food while on his way to work detail or to borrow a new book or whatever it is smart boys do in their free time. Snafu can never tell if the new distance between them is killing Eugene as much as it's killing him. The minute Snafu's foot heals, he gets assigned work duty, as if to make up for all the time he missed. He grudgingly accepts this, partially because fair's fair, but also partially because it keeps him out of Eugene's hair. He toils during the day, and

sleeps fitfully at night, and lounges on the beach every chance he can get. Every once in a while he'll look up and catch Eugene's eye on him. But the boy never says anything. The only time they work together is when the higher ups announce a big storm is predicted to hit in the coming days. "Big Storm" is putting it mildly. The locals whisper about typhoons and deadly winds, and entire ships stuck out on the ocean. And Snafu and Sledge are the only two guys determined to fasten down their company's tent. They don't talk as they prepare, simply exchange one loaded glance. Both of them grew up on the southern coast, both have seen angry storms, they know not to underestimate the power of mother nature - especially if the locals are afraid. They fall into a familiar pattern working together, kind of like digging their foxhole in tandem. Snafu has his own particular storm preparations, and Eugene's got his. They lend a hand to each other when needed and get out of each other's way when not. By the time they're done, K company's tent is the sturdiest on the island. Snafu doesn't know if Eugene suggested his improvements to the other guys. Snafu certainly didn't share any information. Either way, definitely nobody told the officers because during the height of the storm, when Snafu is huddled in his cot, covers wrapped around himself as tight as can be to ward off the chill, a bedraggled private drags open their tent flap to announce company K is called to duty. At first Snafu can't believe it. He stares in horror as this green replacement undoes all his and Eugene's hard work, opens the flap, and lets in a torrent of rain water. The K company men in the tent hastily jump to action, if only to be able to close off their safe and secure dry oasis once more. Unfortunately, it also means closing up the dry oasis while they are standing outside it getting drenched. The six of them make their way across the camp. Snafu's baggy ill-fitting shorts are already making it hard for him to walk. The wet fabric hangs heavy on him, only held up by the fraying rope he pulled through his belt loops. The officers keep saying any day now they'll receive a supply drop of new service uniforms for the enlisted men. But that was weeks ago. Snafu hits an uneven patch of mud and his foot goes out from underneath him. In an instant, Eugene stops him from falling on his ass by colliding with Snafu's back and propping him up. Snafu didn't even know Eugene was following him closely enough to be there so quick. "Are you okay?" Eugene whispers in Snafu's ear. Snafu nods. "I meant your foot," Eugene elaborates, "Is your toe okay?" "Yeah," Snafu croaks. Yeah, he's okay. He's in Eugene's arms again. He's got Eugene's breath on the back of his neck and Eugene's chest pressed up against his back. It'd take a typhoon the size of his great aunt Tilly to get Snafu to leave Gene's embrace. Or perhaps the barked orders of an angry, wet, tired NCO. "Hurry it up back there!" the NCO yells at them, barely able to make himself heard over the wind. Snafu reluctantly extricates himself from Eugene's arms and continues walking. Their company is tasked with restoring an officer's knocked down tent. Why they're being told to do this in the middle of the storm is anyone's guess. With grim faces and bitter determination, they follow orders and get to work. Snafu can barely see through the rain, but even with such poor visibility he can tell the tent is sloppily built. He exchanges a commiserate judgemental look with Eugene. Eugene recognizes poor construction too. "All right men, everybody take a corner," Burgie announces. "If they had us do this a few hours ago before the damn storm even started…" Eugene complains beneath his breath at Snafu. Snafu sympathizes but he does as he's told, because he's still a Marine. But then again, the war's over so he allows himself a few grumbles while he does it. And he circumvents orders to peek his head inside the tent and see exactly whose ass they're saving here. Lightning flashes and he gets a good glimpse. The

occupants don't surprise him. Snafu nudges Eugene in the ribs to make Eugene pause his work battening down the ropes. "What?" Eugene hisses. "It's a couple of replacements," Snafu informs him, "Fresh from home. Don't even got mud on their boots yet." "You're kidding me," Eugene says flatly, sounding as if he's at the end of his own rope. Snafu shakes his head. "Fuck," Eugene curses under his breath. Which is a big deal for Eugene. "We've only got one pair of pants each," Snafu mutters, "We're gonna go to bed with wet asses cause these guys couldn't bother to do their own tent properly." Eugene shakes his head angrily. He grips the rope tight, takes a deep breath, and his jaw juts out in that stubborn way of his that means trouble. Snafu loves that look. He knows that look intimately. "Burgie," Eugene whispers sharp. He leans away from Snafu and towards Burgin on the other side of him. Snafu can't hear what Eugene says, but he must have told Burgie about the owners of this tent they're saving, because the next thing Burgie does is issue a new string of nonverbal instructions. The men stare at him. They can see the gestures Burgie is doing, they know what he's telling them, they just can't believe it. Snafu doesn't question Burgie's orders - not that he ever would - but this time he follows them wholeheartedly. Snafu, Eugene, Jay, Stringbean, and Burgie let loose their ropes simultaneously. The tent collapses, the replacement officers get drenched, and Burgie fakes outrage over the 'accident'. And they all laugh about it afterwards in the privacy of their own tent. As soon as they duck under their tent flap, Snafu explodes in giggles. He leans against Eugene and cracks up, unable to stop himself and desperately hoping he hasn't gone crazy. Eugene joins him, indulging in a good satisfied chuckle over the officers getting their just desserts. Their slightly hysterical joy is catching. The men make jokes, give each other congratulatory slaps on the back. The mood in the tent goes from being miserable and self-pitying, to one of humor. The camaraderie warms Snafu. He feels within his place in the world in a way he never did back home. He knows this is partially why he's so reluctant to leave. The guys are triumphant, feeling they've bested their superiors and gotten away with it. No one but Snafu is thinking any sort of serious thoughts. "It'd be our ass if they knew we done that on purpose, " Snafu warns despite his grin. "Who's going to tell them?" Eugene challenges, "You?" Snafu laughs and his smile widens. He hasn't seen Eugene this happy in over a year. The moment would be absolutely perfect… if it weren't for the damp canvas currently sticking inside Snafu's butt crack. "I'm sick and tired of being wet!" Snafu cries as he kicks his sandal-boots off and strips down to the nude. He throws the offending wet shorts across the tent. They hit the wall and stick for a minute before plopping to the ground. The men around him laugh and agree. Snafu decides tonight is for sleeping bare assed as the day he was born, and crawls under his cot blanket without hesitation. "Snaf's got the right idea here, Burg," Eugene says and yanks his own pants off. A bunch of the other guys follow suit until there is a large pile of wet shorts in the corner of the tent. Burgie shakes his head and affects a stern look, but everyone knows he won't enforce the dress code tonight. And as people dry off and become more comfortable, slowly one by one they drift off to sleep. Except Snafu. Snafu tosses and turns under his blankets. He may be dry, but he's still freezing his ass off from the biting wind. "It's so fucking drafty," he complains loudly to the room at large. No one answers him. "I'm so damn cold," he whines. Again without answers. "First they stick us in a hundred degree heat, and then they make us sit through a typhoon with nothing but ratty blankets," Snafu complains. "Go the fuck to sleep, Snafu," Bill Leyden lovingly throws a shoe in Snafu's direction. He misses. "Maybe if you're quiet you'll warm up,"

Eugene suggests. "Pretty sure that's not how it works," Snafu retorts, "Shouldn't you know? Being so educated and all?" He refuses to stop complaining. The guys groan every time he opens his mouth. Until finally Eugene, sick to death of Snafu's whining, throws his own blanket on top of Snafu's for added warmth. Snafu is surprised that Eugene would sacrifice his own comfort to make Snafu feel better. "Real martyr that Eugene," Bill comments, "Taking one for the team to shut shit-n-ass up." Eugene doesn't say anything. He simply climbs out of his own cot, and scoots into Snafu's from behind, pulling the double blankets over them both. Which shocks Snafu even more. "Isn't it gonna be hot under there with the both of you?" Bill asks obnoxiously. "No worse than all that hot air filling your head," Eugene retorts. The guys laugh, and Eugene's change of sleeping arrangement becomes a joke rather than what it actually is. "I always sleep better if I'm sleeping on top of somebody," Snafu announces, feeling brash. Bill laughs and whistles provocatively. Burgie sighs "Prove it then, go the fuck to sleep, the both of you." Unbeknownst to everyone around them, under the cover of darkness, Eugene's arm snakes around Snafu's waist and pulls him flush against Eugene's body. Gene presses his face into the nape of Snafu's neck and whispers almost silently, "I still love you. I will wait for you." Snafu shivers and pushes himself closer into Eugene's embrace. He doesn't have to respond. He simply locks his hands around Eugene's to keep him in place, and closes his eyes. They both fall asleep within minutes. He really does sleep better in Eugene's arms. The tension between them breaks. Snafu gradually lets Eugene back into his life. When they're transferred to China, he follows Eugene on all Eugene's hair-brained educational schemes. They even get their own room in the British Ligation, just the two of them, with two cots though only one is ever used. Snafu becomes accustomed to sleeping beside someone. Months later, Snafu's precious bubble of happiness in China breaks - they're both sent home. And too soon the familiar words 'New Orleans' wakes Snafu with a start. The train underneath him is still rocking, but the movement is slowing. Soon they'll be stopped. Presumably at the station where he's supposed to be getting off. Still exhausted in a weary way that won't change for a long while, Snafu drops his head back against the soft pillow he's been sleeping on. And then remembers who it is. He cranes his neck around and sees Sledge still sleeping peacefully. Snafu is tucked up against Eugene's side, with his head against the fat of Eugene's arm and his hand near Eugene's stomach. Snafu props his chin on Eugene's shoulder and watches him sleep. Eugene's a funny sleeper. In all the years Snafu has known him, half the time it seems Gene sleeps so deep nothing could wake him. The other half he wakes at the slightest provocation, and Snafu can never predict which to expect. Snafu palms his hand over Eugene's stomach, just so he can feel Gene's body move one last time before he leaves. Eugene doesn't even notice, he continues dozing with a slight snore. Snafu remembers falling asleep on Gene's shoulder a year ago, and playing with Eugene's hands for ten minutes until he woke up. If the train car wasn't full of fellow returning servicemen, Snafu would lean over and kiss Gene goodbye. As it is, it's probably for the best that nothing happens except the train stops, Snafu stands to collect his bag, and Eugene sleeps on. Snafu departs, and he forces himself to not look back. He's in New Orleans again, and with it comes all the same old responsibilities, and a body is never supposed to look back. Common courtesy. (Had Snafu looked back he would have seen Eugene wake up and smack his hand against the train window at Snafu's retreating figure) The problem with coming home to nothing is a total lack of motivation. Snafu knows nowhere to go and doesn't care. He makes it halfway down the train platform before his knees start

shaking. He ducks into a narrow alleyway, leans against an empty trash bin, and lights a smoke. Above him he hears a crack of thunder. Rain's coming, and not the hot comfortable summer kind. He should take shelter, or worry about his bag getting wet, but he doesn't. After Gloucester a minor New Orleans squall is hardly a threat. Snafu tilts his head and looks to the sky as he smokes. The clouds break, the rain starts, and too soon his cigarette flickers out. "Fucking hell!" a very loud, very angry Sledge barrels into the alley and crosses Snafu's field of vision. Snafu is stunned silent as Eugene bears down on him. Gene wastes no time, he doesn't even slow his stride, just walks right up to Snafu, throws his own bag to the ground beside Snafu's, grabs Snafu by the wrists and slams him up against the brick wall. The cigarette falls out of Snafu's limp grasp. Eugene kisses him, completely unconcerned that the train platform is crowded and the alley can't possibly remain empty for long. The minute Eugene releases his grip on Snafu, Snafu grabs him back and continues the kiss. He gets his hands on Eugene's hips and starts fumbling to open his belt. It's pouring rain, and will continue raining for at least a half hour, the alley will remain deserted, they have time. Eugene, when he grows angry and goes from being soft to sharp angles and barbs, is hot as hell and makes Snafu want to jump his bones. Soft Eugene is complacent and too nice. Angry Eugene goes after what he wants, and Snafu desperately enjoys being exactly what Eugene wants underneath his pretty boy facade. Eugene breaks the kiss and refuses to let Snafu have his way. He grabs Snafu's wandering hands once more, but this time instead of shoving them against the wall, Eugene traps them tight between his and Snafu's chests. He glowers at Snafu, "You left me." "You were sleeping," Snafu points out, "Didn't wanna be rude." Eugene takes a deep breath and drops his forehead to their clasped hands. "You obstinate fool," he says bitterly and pins Snafu with his eyes again, looking frustrated and betrayed, "Did it occur to you that maybe I sleep better with you beside me just as much as it ever did for you?" "Sledgehammer," Snafu drawls, "You sleep better cause you're no longer in mud. Got nothing do with me." "Bullshit," Eugene accuses, "Both of those things are bullshit, Snaf...what do I do to get it in your head that I love you?" Snafu laughs and shakes his head, "Don't matter. It won't stick." Eugene shakes him, as if to unstick Snafu's stubbornness, "Then I'll keep saying it, over and over, as long as I need to. And as long as you say it to me back." "Say what?" Snafu smirks. "Say how you feel, dumbass," Eugene glares. "I feel awfully pinned to the wall like a bug right now," Snafu wiggles defiantly. He gives Gene a pointed look. Eugene immediately realizes he's taking his anger out on Snaf and drops his wrists. Eugene takes a step back, out from underneath the eaves of the building. The rain comes down so hard the boy is soaked to the bone in seconds. His bright pink lips slick and glistening and unchanged since the very first afternoon Snafu noticed him. "What do you want, Snafu?" Snafu leans languidly against the wall, his hips out and his head thrown back, his hands hanging relaxed below his shoulders. "I want you," he says and he closes his eyes because this admission will be painful, "I want to kiss you for so long the entire world sees. My own world narrows to you every damn time you're near. You scare me, Gene. I'm not supposed to want anything but I want so much from you...I can't take it. Go home, Eugene. Where you belong." "Too fucking bad," Eugene states. He steps forward again and slides an arm around Snafu's hips to pull him away from the wall. "I already am home," Eugene insists, "I'm with you. So stop making me chase you and let's decide where we're going together." "You're so fucking stubborn," Snafu complains with a dramatic sigh. "Takes one to know one," Eugene reminds him. Snafu laughs and slowly lets himself drift into

Eugene's space. They hold each other, almost as if they're in a dance. Eugene threads his fingers through Snafu's hair and looks at him intently, "Tell me what else you want. Everything." "I want us to live in a house," Snafu demands, defiant like he's daring Eugene to deny him any of it, "On the water - doesn't have to be much, just a little crick. With a birch tree in the backyard, and an attic to store your drawing shit. I want to wake up from the glare of the sun glinting off your stupid hair every morning, in a big bed, on clean white sheets. I want you to take my name." Sledge breaks into the biggest smile Snafu ever saw, "Eugene Shelton," he says, "Sheltonhammer?" Eugene laughs. "Okay," he nods enthusiastically, "Okay, I want all that." "Really?" Snafu laughs in disbelief. Rain gets in his mouth. He sputters and bites his lip. "Yeah," Eugene nods again. "Well, fuck," Snafu declares. "We'll do it," Eugene promises, "We'll do all of it. But before we figure out how, I need you to come home with me to Mobile." Snafu nods, and then adds, "Except tonight. We can afford one night in a hotel. Just the two of us." Eugene smiles, "Yeah. I can agree to that." "Good," Snafu agrees, satisfied. Eugene slings an arm over Snafu's shoulders and Snafu wraps his arm around Eugene's waist. They pick up their duffles and start ambling down the alley. "Sheltonhammer will never catch on," Snafu warns. "You're right," Eugene grins, "I better keep Sledgehammer too." "Eugene Bondurant Sledgehammer Shelton," Snafu says, "What a mouthful." "I like it," Eugene confirms and squeezes Snafu affectionately. "They'll never put that in a phonebook," "Guess we just won't have a phone, then," Eugene says. "I could live with that," Snafu agrees. They do end up with a phone because Eugene's mother will only accept her baby living two states away if she's able to call him whenever she wants. "It's like your mother's psychic," Snafu whines. Out in the hall, Eugene motions with his hands to try to get Snafu to shut up while balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder. Snafu rolls his eyes and refuses to be quiet. "She somehow divines every time you get frisky and suddenly she needs to talk your ear off for five hours," Snafu continues. "We're invited for Christmas," Eugene says after he finally hangs up, "She wants to know if you'll be bringing your homemade pie again. Also this theory of yours completely discounts the number of times we have sex uninterrupted." "Every time we have sex should be unintereupted. I'll bring the pie only if I can be allowed to help with the ham this year," Snafu barters, "Not having any of that dry overcooked shit anymore." "If we get there early enough I can sneak you into the kitchen," Eugene crawls back onto the bed and settles himself on top of Snafu, "She'll never notice any changes to the ham." "Deal," Snafu agrees and drags Eugene in for a kiss. "I love you, Mer," Eugene whispers. Snafu wins Eugene's family over with his uncanny cooking abilities. Snafu always puts it off till the last minute, and stresses Eugene out so much he blames Snafu for his hair loss, but somehow whatever Snafu makes turns out perfect. His specialty is pork chops. Meanwhile, Gene's not allowed to cook after the incident with the waffle maker. Snafu brings this rule up whenever Gene wants to try a new recipe in one of his Good Housekeeping magazines ("Nothing in that rag is true, Sledgehammer. Why d'you even bother?" Snafu pesters him) ("I received no education on this subject growing up, Snafu. I'm learning," Eugene refuses to budge and keeps his subscription). Luckily Snafu has a gift for making questionable recipes edible, and Eugene is good at following directions, both in and out of bed. This year at Christmas dinner, Eugene's mother imbibes a little too much eggnog spiked generously by Snafu. Halfway through the dessert course she leans in close to whisper secretly to her son, "Don't tell Edward but your Snafu can bake circles around Martha. Thank god one of you married well." And pats Eugene's

shoulder proudly. Eugene relays this compliment to Snafu late at night when they're snuggled together tight in Eugene's narrow childhood bed. "And yet nobody suspected about the ham," Eugene adds, "Though a few commented how much better it tasted this year." "What can I say, I'm a fan of big meat," Snafu declares as he sticks his hand down the front of Eugene's pants. "I don't think that actually works well as an innuendo," Eugene retorts. "Got you hard anyway," Snafu's eyes gleam with mischief. Eugene rolls him over and kisses him silent before someone hears them and suddenly turns their visit home awkward. Married life with Gene seems almost too good to be true. Snafu keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. And he really starts to worry when on a random day in spring, he sees Eugene standing stark naked in their backyard during a thunderstorm. "Good thing our phone isn't listed," Snafu calls to Eugene from the dry safety of the wrap-around porch. Eugene might be losing his marbles, but he sure looks good while doing it. Snafu admires his husband's bare ass in the sharp flashes of lightning and lit by the soft glow of their storm lantern. Eugene turns to face Snafu and lifts the lantern up, "What in tarnation are you talking about?" He asks, as if Snafu is the crazy one here. "If we were in the phonebook," Snafu says, "the neighbors would sure be calling by now." "No one can see me," Eugene scoffs, "We have a fence for a reason." "Why're you naked in a thunderstorm, Gene?" Snafu asks with concern, "If you get turned on, you might act like a lightning rod, and we've already got one of those on the roof - we don't need another, Boo." "It's tradition," Eugene explains. "Tradition?" "Our anniversary. It's been four years." "Anniversary?" Snafu grins wildly, expecting a joke, "What kind of shit anniversary have two people like us got?" Gene leaps onto the porch, sets the lantern down at Snafu's feet, and picks up his bible from a chair. His damp hands deftly flip it open to a weathered page and he reads off the date: "March 9th, 1944, Finally got Snafu to shower in the rain and wash his hair but only because I fucked him first." "What?! No way that you wrote that down!" Snafu grabs at the book in Eugene's hands. Eugene laughs and gives it up. And right there, in smudged ink, are the words Gene just read. Snafu runs his hand across them, and remembers how fucked up they both were four years ago. Desperate, and confused, and scared. "So, it's tradition," Eugene states with a know-it-all grin. He walks backward off the porch and back into the rain. His chin tilted up to feel the drops on his face and his hands raised high. Snafu watches in silence for a bit, remembering what it was like during his days of pining. When he didn't dare voice any of his opinions on Eugene's form, let alone reach out and touch. "Nice ass, Sledgehammer," Snafu calls. "You can't see my butt, I'm facing you," Eugene screws up his face in confusion. "Don't need to see it, I already know it's nice," Snafu leans against the porch and crosses his arms. Eugene rolls his eyes, but there's a smile on his face. That smile Snafu especially likes - bashful, embarrassed, and utterly in love. With dark eyes so warm it makes even cold-hearted Snafu feel cozy. "What about what you can see?" Gene asks, teasing. "Gorgeous," Snafu says, more quiet and solemn, "Like a Greek statue." "I'm flattered," Eugene states. He doesn't sound flattered, he sounds sarcastic. "No, I'm serious," Snafu insists, "Exactly like a statue. Except for one… much bigger detail…" "Snaf…" Eugene huffs a laugh. "Ah!" Snafu enthusiastically points at Eugene's crotch and steps off the porch into the rain, "What'd I tell you! You got that lightning rod problem going on there. We better get you inside…" Eugene says nothing, he just sloshes through the puddle that is their garden path and slams into Snafu. His hands slip under Snafu's jaw and tilt his face for an intense kiss. Eugene's hard dick slides into the crevice of Snafu's hips and Snafu drags Eugene tighter

against his body by his waist to trap him there. Now they're both wet and naked making out in their own backyard. Unfortunately just as things start getting interesting lightning strikes the tree beside their heads. It happens in an instant - the entire sky lights up, the lightning jumps from the fried tree to the rod on their house's roof, and fizzles. "Oh fuck!" Snafu hits the deck and takes Eugene with him. Eugene is pressed face first into their muddy grass, with Snafu's broad hand firm on his back, and half of Snafu's body shielding him from harm. And Eugene just laughs. Snafu gradually realizes the danger is gone, and loosens his hold on Gene. Eugene rolls onto his back and looks up at Snafu with a broad grin. "Why are we always interrupted during sex?" Snafu grumbles. "We're not even having sex," Eugene chuckles. He takes Snafu's arm for support and together they pull themselves out of the mud. "Not yet," Snafu argues. "Not here," Eugene retorts, "Let's get back inside. We don't need to tempt fate." "Lighting doesn't strike twice, Gene, you know that," Snafu points out when they're back under the porch. He gives Eugene a once over. "You're gonna need a shower. Maybe with the hose first," he adds after eyeing the grass and dirt clumps stuck to Eugene's front. Snafu leans over the porch rail to unwind the hose and then turns the nozzle on Gene. Eugene cringes and shies away from the water stream, "That's colder than the damn rain, Snaf!" "Turn around, I need to get your ass," Snafu replies. Which is when Eugene decides he's had enough hosing and instead tries to finagle the nozzle out of Snafu's hands. He doesn't succeed. Snafu is a slippery little shit in the best of times, and when wet he's positively lethal. Eugene does get hosed in the ass, and Snafu does lose control of the hose when Eugene goes for the distraction method and kisses Snafu into submission. Snafu can never resist a good smooch. Eugene grins against Snafu's lips, knowing he's won and hefts Snafu up into his arms. He carries Snafu into their house and into the shower to celebrate their 'anniversary' properly.

[thefudge]

Do you have any Romanian (language or just content-wise) media recs? Particularly novels and poetry but really any must-sees/must-reads are welcome!

uuuu! 

my brain is too fried right now to do any kind of exhaustive list so i’m gonna rec a few things that i know you could get your hands on/available in translation:

for two thousand years, by mihail sebastian - really heartbreaking yet also lucid, adventurous and darkly humorous memoir of a Jewish writer in his youth at the height of nazism in romania (there’s even a Penguin classic of it)

diary of a short-sighted adolescent by mircea eliade - a funny and bittersweet bildungsroman about a bookish teenager who wants to read everything now and be the cleverest person alive while also struggling with being super lazy and unmotivated because he’s young and restless, it’s very #relatable. but it’s also fascinating to read this in opposition with “for two thousand years” because eliade entertained legionnaire nazi sympathies at one point. (also, you should check out his novellas too, especially the fantastic ones)

anything you can find in translation by gabriela adamesteanu - just lovely, delicate prose about growing up, being an adult, inhabiting your body and your feelings in an oppressive world 

the hatchet by mihail sadoveanu (apparently, there is a translation) - a lot of people give this novel flak, mostly because we had to read it in high school, but it’s a great and deceptively simple little novel that says a lot more about people than it cares to admit. the action takes you through several villages in the East-Carpathians, where a peasant woman goes in search of her missing husband. it’s a fascinating mixture of crime and folklore and mythology. 

any novella by costache negruzzi, but especially “alexandru lapusneanu”, another classic we had to read in school and which gets a lot of flak. it’s so bonkers and #quality-trash. let’s just say there’s a scene where the power-hungry voievod/prince lapusneanu enacts a red-wedding situation and builds a pyramid of freshly severed heads to impress his lady wife *swoon* 

the forest of the hanged by liviu rebreanu - i know people argue this isn’t his best novel, but it’s got the most heart. it’s the story of a soldier/philosopher in WW1 who falls in love with people again. that’s it. he falls in love with people, and the war and everything in between doesn’t matter anymore. or it matters only as it pertains to people, and people alone. 

gallants of the old court by mateiu caragiale - a bizarre gem of early 20th century Romanian nightlife, a wonderful, orgiastic fugue, feverish and infuriating. it’s mostly about rich men and social-climbers getting into existential trouble, but also into real trouble. normally, because the action takes place right before WW1, this would signify the end of an era. but we don’t really have a beginning or end. we are part-balkan, part-french imitators, part-whatever-sticks. nothing moves us, and everything does. and that’s why it’s a sort of love/hate letter to romanians 

in terms of poetry, some personal faves:  nichita stanescu, ana blandiana, monica pillat, marin sorescu,  a.e. baconsky, lucian blaga, emil brumaru, nora iuga, marta petreu, nina cassian. and yes, mihai eminescu, our national poet, though i’m often in two minds about him.  

poetry in translation is really hit and miss because of the “untranslatable”, so here’s two lines from a poem by nina cassian, because i want to show you what i mean:

            De când m-ai părăsit mă fac tot mai frumoasă             ca hoitul luminând în întuneric. 

this roughly and poetically translates to:

          Since you left me I’ve grown more beautiful

           like the corpse lighting the dark 

and this is sort of lovely on its own, but you’d need to know and hear and taste the word “hoit” in romanian to really feel the abjectness, because “hoit” is a smelly, ugly yet also alluring, already decomposing version of “cadavru” aka cadaver/corpse. also “ mă fac tot mai frumoasă” cannot be accurately summed up in “i’ve grown more beautiful”. a literal translation would be “I make myself more beautiful”. in romanian, this is obviously idiomatic and not literal. and yet, these strange self-reflexive valences make these lines strong and eerie, as if the speaker were authoring her beauty, shaping it out of clay and darkness and “hoit”,  like a butterfly cracking the corpse’s shell to get out, but also retaining some of its mesmerizing stench. why did i pause to do a close-reading of romanian poetry??? anyway, you catch my drift

in terms of movies, a recent one i really loved was sierranevada by cristi puiu, which is a neurotic family drama that drains you but also lifts you up 

and yeah, the hype is real, 4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days by cristi mungiu really is that good (about two young women trying to get an illegal abortion in communist romania. it won the palme d’or for very legit reasons. it breaks you in small ways. the very last shot of the film you’ll carry with you forever). i also liked graduation by cristi mungiu, where a young overachieving girl is about to graduate high school and go on to study abroad, until a terrible event unmoors both her and her family. the movie turns almost hallucinatory at one point, filled with ambiguity and a kind of sleep-walking quality 

tales from the golden age by cristi mungiu (him again!) is also fantastic for anyone who wants to get a taste of communist romania and the sad-funny absurdities of everyday life. this movie is split in 2 parts and the format is that of an anthology, almost like watching several short films at once. and there is one film in the anthology that always turns me inside out, and it’s really silly, it’s this bonnie and clyde type story about this girl and boy who meet at a party and devise an ingenious get-rich scam and just run around a few neighborhoods trying to put it into practice and it’s...the sweetest, most incomplete thing. there is such a strange, lovely connection there that never gets realized, and there is a MOMENT between them where he helps her step down from this ledge and he holds her briefly to him and i remember being in the cinema and thinking THIS, this is THE MOMENT where i felt these people were real. it was such an honest, lovely moment. like the equivalent of this song. ANYWAY, why am i rambling so much??? this ask was supposed to be SHORT. 

aferim! by radu jude is also a really neat movie and provides a look into the historical romanian/rroma relationship and why it’s so messed up, yet also so organic

the death of mr. lazarescu by cristi puiu is also a great little film about a man who gets sick and goes to the hospital. and...dies, as you can tell from the title. on the surface, he dies because of institutional ineptness and a broken healthcare system. at a deeper level, he dies because we no longer know how to help people. various hospital staff in the film do try to help him and fail for various stupid or quietly heartbreaking reasons. it’s a movie about being physically unable to care. there’s indifference, sure, but also this great exhaustion of the human spirit. but the movie is also darkly funny. might not be a great pandemic watch, but then again it might be exactly what you need 

there are soooo many other classics in terms of books (morometii by marin preda, for instance, about a patriarch in a small village in the South who slowly realizes the world he used to live in doesn’t have room for him anymore, and maybe it never had) but i’m gonna end on a quote from ion creanga, one of the most cryptic classics of romanian lit:

“Şi eu eram vesel ca vremea cea mai bună şi şturlubatic şi copilăros ca vântul în tulburea sa”

my translation: “and I was cheerful like the best weather and frolicsome and childish like the wind in its cloudiness” 

and again, the words in romanian and their particular sound and bite (”şturlubatic”, “tulburea”) immediately take me elsewhere. creanga writes about childhood, but it’s never really childhood. he writes as an adult who, in my opinion, was never really a child, but a weird, small god of the land. i mean the word “tulburea” can mean both “turmoil” and “muddiness”. the wind can be anguished, but also just a little cloudy, just a little hazy, shrinking its agony, howling it in the child. it’s eerie and gorgeous. so, that’s what he does: creanga writes about children as if they were wind-like spirits. he writes stories about devils and the peasants who trick them and school books filled with spit and flies, and warm eggs stolen from nests and fairy-tales of a world that is buried somewhere inside us, but not too deep, things hidden under our clothes or nails or even in our hair. and it’s all so physical and convoluted, just like his prose. and i don’t think anyone will ever make sense of him and that’s what makes him so discombobulatingly great.

anyway, this was supposed to be...like, really short! and not gassy! i’m sorry. i love waxing about all this gay stuff. i’m so gay about it. 

realistically tho, the nearest thing you’ll find in your local bookshop is probably books by famous ‘theater of the absurd’ playwright, eugen ionesco, or novels in translation by contemporary author mircea cartarescu. both are pretty good, so go for it! (if you want to start small, i’d recommend REM by mircea cartarescu, because it’s so trippy and meta and captures that summer holiday eeriness so well. it goes well with this romanian song sung in english)

okay byeeeee 

[agentem]

Initial LOKI thoughts

I have said here that I was not that excited about LOKI as WANDAVISION and TFATWS. I did not wake up early but I had a work meeting today at 2:30 and I thought it was Eastern time but it’s Pacific time do my schedule is all fucked up snd I have three hours so I was like, “fuck it, I’ll gonna watch Marvel shit.”

Before I get into the episode, I will talk a bit about the press tour. I love press tour shit. I don’t know why. I watch the interviews on YouTube and they always seem so painful. Randos asking the same question over and over. (Take a drink every time, Tom Hiddleston stalls by saying, “that’s a really good question...”. It’s not a good question.) Some of the Marvel people are A+ at a press tour (Mackie, Bettany, Hemsworth, Waiti, Downey, all pop right into my mind. Oh Rudd too, he’s got s very easy charm). WandaVision press was fun because Bettany was dialed up to 11 as a troll. And Mackie went in on how boring SebStan is for TFATWS.

I feel like the LOKI press tour hasn’t been as fun. But it’s possible the silly videos that take more editing aren’t up yet. I really want to do a dumb game. I love dumb games instead of serious questions. Like when they quizzed Kathryn Hahn on MCU stuff and she knew nothing but would just, once told the answer, do another take where she got it correct.

Mostly the press has been showcasing how smart Tom Hiddleston is. And he is. Quite charming too. I remember during an Avengers related Hiddleston panel at Nerd HQ he started speaking French and Zachary Levi (who was then Fandral) was like, “fuck this! He speaks French too!” Those kind of interactions are fun for me and it’s a bit sad they are all alone in their own houses.

One thing I LEARNED from the press tour that the tumblr Loki stans must have known forever is that Loki really was supposed to die in THE DARK WORLD. They played it straight. And it was only later in reshoots they had him take over for Odin. And I think that is... a mistake. Because they talk about “Loki’s redemption arc” and I never really thought he was fully redeemed, except that he sacrificed himself so MAYBE Thor could buy some time in INFINITY WAR.

I had read THE DARK WORLD as him having learned nothing and manipulated Thor, banished Odin and didn’t really care as much as he said he did about Frigga. Because of how it ends. I think they should’ve kept it and maybe had Hela bring him back in Ragnarok or something. Idk. (And I was legit ANGRY that Frigga was killed for so little payoff. I am still angry she was frigded but was slightly molified by the scenes where he looks at her and ACTS. APPRECIATE FRIGGA MORE.)

Anyway, the episode. “Glorious Purpose.” A reference to @allofthefeelings’ hilarious glorious porpoise costume from many comic cons ago, I suspect.

I was excited to see Pillboi from “The Good Place” aka actor Eugene Cordero, the guy who doesn’t know what a fish is and has all the Infinity Stones. Get him a gauntlet so he can remake the world. I bet it’d be funner.

I am really loving Wunmi Mosaka, the Hunter who arrests Loki. She has such a commanding presence. And I love that this badass enforcer of the TVA is a lady, and a lady of color no less.

I didn’t like when Loki had her in a time loop. The question was if he enjoys hurting people. In that moment, I thought the answer was yes. But the script would have us believe no. I would like for him to really convince me of that no by the end of the series.

I thought Hiddleston did a good job of acting against the CGI images of Loki’s life. I love some good alone in a room acting in Marvel. It’s pure imagination.

Do we have bets on who the killer Loki variant is? Everyone on YouTube seems to be saying Lady Loki. I think it’d be fun if it were Kid Loki, honestly. But I might be thinking of my Young Avengers. Kid Loki would probably also not be that tall, in the final scene. Old Man Loki is also a possiblity. There were rumors that was Grant’s character, I think?

I always want things to subvert expectations but the previous shows never really did.

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Hi this may not be new to everyone but I was recently introduced to the concept of questioning God. I was raised with the idea that you do not question Them bc who do we think we are to question God, and to question Them is to lack faith. I'm still trying to wrap my head round this new idea so sorry if this sounds really silly and naive but why would we want to question God? And is questioning God=lack of faith? Sorry if this was messily worded

Hey there, anon! When you’ve been raised never to question God, the idea of questioning them can be kind of scary -- but hopefully you will find it to be freeing and empowering and enriching, too! 

Now, I think most Christians would ascribe to some sort of “who are we to question God?” type mindset, as you name. I think I probably do, insofar as that means I tend to understand God as omniscient; I do believe that God’s answers and God’s will are Right and Just, are Correct, and that I don’t really have any hope of “proving God wrong.” But even so, it’s not a failure of faith to question anyway! As this post will assert, questioning is a healthy and powerful part of faith. 

For in questioning God, in going on a journey of reflection and asking God what the heck is up, I will learn and grow -- I will discover what God’s will truly is, and just why it is Right and Just. And I will grow deeper in relationship with God on the way. 

___________

(Before expounding on all of that, I want to add that there may well be some Christians who do believe that God might could be proven wrong -- or at least that God is open to learning and changing God’s mind! Diversity of faith and interpretation is valuable and worthy of respect. 

After all, there are stories in scripture where God changes Hir mind -- Xe is convinced by Abraham not to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah if even just 10 righteous people live there; and by Moses to spare the people of Israel. 

And then there is one of my favorite stories from the life of Jesus, i.e. God Incarnate, where he seems to get schooled by a Canaanite or Syrophoenician woman. I’ve got a sermon on this very story and what it might mean about God’s relationship with us as one open to give-and-take, growth and change! 

If I’m not mistaken, a faith that makes room for the possibility of God changing God’s mind is more similar to most Jewish persons’ beliefs about God than a “God is always right. period.” type mentality. Anyway, back to the main point of this post!)

___________

Questioning God does not = a lack of faith. After all, countless faithful figures in scripture asked questions of God, from Moses to Habakkuk, from the psalmist to Jesus himself. See this post for examples!

In fact, many say that questioning God is actually evidence of a deep and vibrant faith. (Again, this idea is a Big Deal for our Jewish neighbors.) 

If you dare to question, if you spend time and energy pondering hard topics and you engage with God as you do so, that’s a sign that you care. That you want to know what is true about God, what is true about God’s will for us. You’re not willing to swallow lies or submit to easy answers. That’s powerful faith. As Rachel Held Evans puts it in her book Inspired,

“If I’ve learned anything from thirty-five years of doubt and belief, it’s that faith is not passive intellectual assent to a set of propositions. It’s a rough-and-tumble, no-holds-barred, all-night-long struggle, and sometimes you have to demand your blessing rather than wait around for it.”

___________

Now, saying all this stuff about faith probably requires a redefining of faith. If you’ve grown up being told that faith is as simple as believing in God, as not doubting God’s existence or God’s will, all of this stuff about faith being a struggle or a conversation with God or any of that doesn’t make much sense. So here are some quotes + places you can go to explore new meanings of just what faith is:

“The opposite of faith is not doubt, it’s certainty -- because what need do the certain have for faith?” - Science Mike, The Liturgists. 

"The opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty. Certainty is missing the point entirely. Faith includes noticing the mess, the emptiness and discomfort, and letting it be there until some light returns." - Anne Lamott, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith

It can also be helpful to understand faith not as an achievement, but as a gift -- not something we earn, but are given freely. See this post. 

The idea of faith being a journey with ups and downs, and doubt not being faith’s enemy but a healthy part of it, can be explored in this posts + the posts linked in that one.

I find Barbara Brown Taylor’s discussions of a full solar faith vs. a lunar faith in her book Learning to Walk in the Dark very helpful when discussing a relationship with God that allows us to bring Her all our questions and doubts and messy emotions. I described her idea of the perils of a full-solar faith in which we cannot question God and must act happy & thankful all the time in this older post.

____________

Okay. Let’s get to the part of asking questions of God that excites me the most -- using our questions as a way to enrich our relationships with God!

God longs for real, mutual relationships with us -- and that can’t happen if we are unquestioningly obedient, right? A relationship cannot be one-sided; it cannot be unbalanced; it must involve a willingness on both sides to hear the other out. It must allow for vulnerability, for confusion, for communication. 

In asking questions of God, we can grow in relationship with Them. And we will be following in a long tradition of good and faithful people who have done the same! 

Here’s a quote on how sharing our questions and frustrations with God can actually deepen our relationship with them:

"My favorite Quaker example of this willingness to confront God is a story told by a woman who was so frustrated with her life she began berating God. For nearly an hour, she told God how pissed off she was with Him. Finally, her anger subsided and she heard a “still, small voice” whisper to her: “Finally, we can have an honest relationship.”"

- Anthony Manousos

And another quote about how letting God in on our anger or frustration towards Them is an important part of being honest and connecting with Them:

“Is it ever acceptable to be angry at God? I would suggest that it is not only acceptable, it may be one of the hallmarks of a truly religious person. It puts honesty ahead of flattery.” - Harold S. Kushner

_____________

An additional reason we would want to question God is because sometimes, what we are really questioning is whether a certain thing we have been told is actually of God is or not. Often, when we question God what we’re really questioning is the ideas of God that have been fed to us by other human beings. 

For instance, if we have been told that the Bible holds nothing but God’s direct word and will, and then find passages that seem to promote harmful things like genocide or slavery, it is right and good and human to question whether such things are actually promoted by God! 

“Accepting the Bible’s war stories without objection threatened to erase my humanity. ‘We don’t become more spiritual by becoming less human,’ Eugene Peterson said. How could I love God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength while disengaging those very faculties every time I read the Bible?” - Rachel Held Evans, Inspired

Or if we’ve been told that LGBT relationships are not God’s will, but then we see such relationships bearing good fruit while the repression of an LGBT identity bears bad fruit, it’s sensible and good to question what God’s will in this matter really is.

"If same-sex relationships are really sinful, then why do they so often produce good fruit—loving families, open homes, self-sacrifice, commitment, faithfulness, joy? And if conservative Christians are really right in their response to same-sex relationships, then why does that response often produce bad fruit—secrets, shame, depression, loneliness, broken families, and fear?" - Rachel Held Evans

For more on this element of questioning God that is more about questioning scripture or certain church teachings / leaders, see my “Framework for Interpreting Scripture” page on my website. 

_________

I’ll close by commending to you my #wrestling God tag. There you will see many examples of faithful people asking God questions, bringing their difficult emotions and their doubts to God, and even getting snarky with God! For instance, a post with verses expressing anger or confusion towards God.

Finally, if you dive into what it means to ask questions of God, things might get overwhelming for a while -- some people find that taking these steps causes them to feel like everything they thought they know about God has changed. If that happens to you, I’ve got a post that aims to guide you through some steps to getting to know God again. 

Best of luck to you, anon, as you continue your faith journey! Please let me know if you have any more questions as you go! 

[bestworstcase]

more than once you've said "the tts fandom can't write x character, or can't write y character," but have you considered that maybe they can write them fine, you've just built up your desired interpretations of these characters? you give off this condescending attitude, like ONLY YOU can write tts characters accurately, ONLY YOU understand them, & any interpretations that don't in some way align with what you think are WRONG. this has become more apparent as you've worked through bitter snow

let’s discuss king frederic, and how he is often characterized in fanworks vs how he is characterized in the show. 

now... i think we can all agree that frederic is at best a mediocre father and a not especially good king, that in his worst moments he steps over the line into emotional abuse vis a vis his treatment of rapunzel, and that the avoidant head-in-the-sand approach he takes to the black rock problem in s1 causes widespread pain, unnecessary panic, and does not improve the situation whatsoever. 

he is widely disliked in the fandom for very good reason

however! it is difficult, though hardly impossible, to find fic where frederic acts or speaks... like frederic, for one very simple reason: the fandom, by and large, as a group, writes frederic as an angry, abusive man who blows up when he is confronted with the many, many things he does wrong. often this takes the form of a character, or characters, getting up in front of him and rattling off his list of crimes, real or perceived, followed by him basically throwing a tantrum.

canon frederic, to put it bluntly, does not do that. 

exhibit a: caine’s confrontation of frederic in before ever after.

caine sets up exactly the scenario that in the average tts fanfic would end with frederic yelling / blustering / furiously denying the accusations, plus she does it while rounding up all his guests and putting them in cage to haul them off and, presumably, kill them somewhere. like. the stakes are life or death and this is an extremely stressful situation for everyone involved.

and this is how that conversation goes down: 

FRED: Release my guests immediately!

CAINE: What’s the matter, Fred? Am I ruining your perfect day?

RAPUNZEL: ...The Duchess?

CAINE: Oh, honey. I am no Duchess.

RAPUNZEL: I don’t understand.

CAINE: Of course you wouldn’t, Rapunzel, but try to follow along. This is all your fault.

RAPUNZEL: What?!

CAINE: You see, after your untimely... disappearance, your father locked up every criminal in the kingdom... including a simple petty thief. My father. I saw him thrown into a cage and hauled off like some animal, never to be seen again. So... I thought I’d come back, and return the favor. 

[the wagon rolls in]

CAINE: Load ‘em up, boys! Your turn, Your Majesty. 

[Frederic moves to shield Rapunzel; Caine snickers.]

CAINE: Oh, come on, you didn’t think we’d leave our prized pig in the pen, did you?

RAPUNZEL: [as Caine’s gang drags Frederic toward the wagon] Dad—

FREDERIC: Rapunzel, stay back. 

RAPUNZEL: But—

FREDERIC: No. There’s nothing you can do. As your father and your king, I command you to stay put. 

there are two key points that i want to make here, because they diverge significantly from the way frederic is characterized in analogous scenarios in fanfics, like, 90% of the time. 

1) fred doesn’t get angry. he doesn’t bluster or yell. he orders caine to release his guests, and when she refuses, he gets quiet. he does not interrupt caine’s rant, he does not even try to deny her accusations, and he doesn’t stomp around escalating the situation even while caine is prancing around waving a sword in his daughter’s face or literally poking him in the chest. 

he stays calm. 

2) fred’s primary, overriding concern is for rapunzel’s safety, and the safety of his guests. not his own. he does not struggle when caine’s men lead him away. he protests on behalf of his guests, but not himself, and he attempts to physically shield rapunzel from harm before he is dragged away. he doesn’t waste his breath trying to argue with caine, but he does tell rapunzel firmly not to put herself in danger trying to rescue him. 

now... there are plenty of ways to interpret why frederic behaves this way, and my personal take is certainly not the only possible one. but the behavior itself, the staying calm in the face of a crisis, while someone is in his face threatening him, his family, and his guests and making pretty charged accusation, is a) objectively playing out on the screen and b) directly at odds with the way frederic most often acts in fanfics. 

exhibit b: mood-swapped frederic blows up just like fanon frederic constantly does

and this is the only time we ever see frederic lose his temper like this in the entire series. again, this is not a matter of interpretation: this is just plainly what happens on the screen. when he is in his right mind, frederic is not a “scream accusations, whip out a sword, and impulsively declare war or attack someone because he’s mad” sort of person, and to say that he is really like that, deep down, is just as silly as trying to argue that cass really is a peppy, soft-hearted, affectionate pushover, or that eugene really is too riddled-with self-doubt and anxiety to make any decisions, or that rapunzel really is a grouchy, moody, misanthropic person. the mood potion makes everyone act like fundamentally different versions of themselves; their behavior is, literally, out of character for their normal, not high-off-their-asses-on-a-magical-potion selves. 

exhibit c: the angry mob in secrets of the sundrop

like with caine, this confrontation kicks off with a premise that should be pretty familiar to anyone who reads any fic featuring frederic at all, ie everybody is pissed at frederic and there is literally an enraged mob screaming for justice in the throne room. and that goes like this:

[everybody shouting in angry panic]

FREDERIC: People... [raising his voice to be heard] Citizens, please! Listen to me!

[Max rears and whinnies to get everyone’s attention, and the shouting dwindles away.]

FREDERIC: I will not lie to you any longer. Corona is in grave danger. The queen has been taken; over half our royal guard lie wounded; and these black rocks draw ever closer.

[the shouting begins to pick up again]

EUGENE: Uh, sir, hi, yeah—if there’s a ‘but’ in this speech, you probably want to cut to it right now. 

FREDERIC: But I look at you, and I don’t just see subjects. I see friends, family; strong, brave individuals who have stood by each other, side-by-side, and have never, ever backed down from a fight! Today, we face a danger like none before. As your king, your friend, and as your brother, I ask you to fight one more time. For Corona!

again, key points: 

1) frederic does not deny, bluster, shout down, or otherwise attempt to refute the basic point that he bungled the black rock situation. he did bungle it, and he knows that [this scene is preceded by him spelling out the full extent of his failures to rapunzel and openly admitting guilt]. through his behavior, he demonstrates that he accepts culpability for the situation and implicitly accepts the legitimacy of the crowd’s anger. 

2) he raises his voice only so he can be heard above the shouting, and as soon as folks quiet down, he drops to a reasonable volume again. his mood is grim, but he isn’t angry. he projects calm. 

3) eugene is nervous about frederic losing control of the crowd and accidentally causing a riot or something; frederic is not. 

4) instead of denying the crowd’s anger, frederic tries to reframe the problem for them: yes, things are bad, but they are strong and brave and we can all work together to put things right. he doesn’t shout them down; he seeks to inspire them. 

and 5) when frederic says “we face a danger,” he means that. the very next thing he does after giving this speech is go straight to the frontlines to fight in the same battle he’s asking everyone else to join in. he's not asking them to do anything he isn’t willing to do himself. 

which... i would argue even more than the caine confrontation in BEA, is diametrically opposed to the way the typical fanon frederic would respond to an angry mob situation, because the typical fanon frederic is a very angry, aggressive man, and that... simply isn’t who frederic is. he’s calm, he’s knows how to work a crowd, he knows how to use his authority to achieve his goals without browbeating or threatening. 

even when he does get angry—such as his instinctive reaction to arianna’s kidnapping, when he jumps first to “we will invade old corona”—he doesn’t yell or stomp around or throw tantrum. he gets stiff and rather cold and makes an impulsive judgment call... but then he takes some time to brood by himself, calms down, talks things out with rapunzel, admits his failures, and doesn’t follow through with the impulsive order he made in the heat of the moment. 

like... flat out, he is not an angry man.

and it’s frustrating, when i go to read fanfic and frederic is overwhelmingly characterized as this hapless angry shouty abusive person, because it is breathtakingly far removed from how he acts in canon, and i like frederic as a character. i find him very interesting, and it’s not fun to read fics where everything that makes him interesting is taken away and replaced with this sort of one-note Shouty Angry King/Bad Dad Whom Everyone Hates. and that applies, unfortunately, to a very large number of the types of fics i like to read (namely, long canon exploratory or canon divergent fics, etc)

anyway,

i am perfectly happy to read interpretations of the tts characters that do not mesh well, or are even wholly incompatible with, my own. 

but i do expect, as a minimum, characters to behave more or less the way they behave in canon unless there is a clear reason for them to be different. i expect varian to be nerdy and chaotic and a bit of a disaster, for example. i expect adira to be aloof, blunt, and perhaps a touch arrogant. i expect cassandra to be ambitious and frustrated and prone to self-sabotage and envy. i expect lance to be laid back and eugene to be a bit vain. i expect the captain to be gruff and very tight-laced. and i expect frederic to act like a politician who is in control of his feelings but sort of cowardly at heart, because that’s how frederic acts in the show. 

i hold myself to these standards too. a ton of my editing process is “hm does this character really talk like this? is this how they would react to this situation?” and then going through and rewatching scenes or whole episodes and trying to find roughly analogous emotional beats or situations to sort of gauge whether i’m hitting the mark or not; it’s very difficult and i work hard on it and do not always succeed... and this does make me a bit picky about characterization in fics i’m reading, yeah, because it’s... always at the forefront of my mind. and then yes i post about it here, because this is the hyperfixation landfill where i dump my tts-adjacent thoughts. 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

of course, you’re welcome to unfollow me if you do not enjoy reading what i post. it’s important to curate an online experience that you enjoy! if my general demeanor irritates you, you don’t need to inflict yourself with it.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael After Midnight: Heavy Metal

Sometimes it’s fun to revisit old movies you watched when you were younger and find out, hey, this is better than you remembered! Sometimes your young mind just wasn’t ready to accept how awesome something was, and you needed time to fully understand what you look for and like about cinema to truly appreciate it. But then, sometimes, you watch something you liked when you were younger, and you realize… wow, this is absolute dog shit!

Such is the case with Heavy Metal. This is a movie I have frequently cited as a low-ranking entry on lists of the finest animated films of all time, and to be entirely fair to the film, it is important in a historical sense, being a cult classic that was passed around through bootlegs because music rights kept it from getting a home video release, and it came out around the dawn of the 80s and kind of destroyed what you would think an animated film was capable of. This film is full of sex, drugs, and rock and roll, and it entirely, unabashedly unashamed of this, for better or for worse.

Now, while I do think the overall film is a bit lacking, it is an anthology film divided into segments, and there are some pretty good ones I will make note of; this is not a film with absolutely no merit. But before that, let me point out the one thing everyone can agree is amazing about this film: the soundtrack. You’ve got Black Sabbath, Blue Oyster Cult, Stevie Nicks, Devo, Cheap Trick… if nothing else, the kickass soundtrack is worth a listen, though Blue Oyster Cult’s song inclusion irritates me to a great degree. The movie went with “Veteran of the Psychic Wars” for the soundtrack, despite the fact Blue Oyster Cult had a song ready to go that is literally about the final entry in the anthology, called “Vengeance (The Pact).” Why the people compiling the soundtrack made this choice baffles me; it reminds me of how they didn’t use “Jennifer’s Body” in, well, Jennifer’s Body, instead opting for a different Hole song from the same album.

But I digress. Let’s go one by one and touch on the segments:

The framing device is about an entity known as the Loc-Nar, who claims to be the sum of all evil, detailing to a little girl how it has influenced chaos and carnage across time and space. The thing is, though, the Loc-Nar doesn’t come out on top in any of the segments, and its schemes are often thwarted. So the entire movie is basically this supreme evil being detailing to a little girl how much it sucks ass at its one job.

The first segment is Harry Canyon, a story about the eponymous futuristic New York taxi driver. In some regards it reminds me of The Fifth Element, what with a scruffy, slummy, futuristic taxi driver trying to help a smoking hot babe find out the truth and all, but unlike that film, this short is a lot bleaker and gritty. You kinda know what you’re in for when Harry vaporizes a dude who tries to mug him, and if that’s not enough, the female lead of this short literally throws herslef at him, and yes, he gets to take a dive into her Harry Canyon – and you get to see it.

This is a running theme throughout these shorts – almost every female character has huge titties and is sexually promiscuous, throwing themselves at the first penis they see as if it was their job. It’s so incredibly juvenile and tacky as to be laughable, but I guess this comes with the territory considering the magazine this film adapted.

Anyway, the segment is harmless and unremarkable. It’s exactly what you’d expect from this sort of story, without much in the way of twists or turns.

The second segment, Den, is arguably the best segment in the entire film. We have a nerdy kid named Dan who gets transported across space and becomes the musclebound warrior with a huge cock known as Den. Every woman throws herself at him, every villain in his way gets pummeled, and no task is too impossible for this man! And did I mention that he is voiced by John Candy? Really, Candy’s comedic touch is what makes this entire thing feel fun and palatable; it’s a cheesy swords and sorcery romp through and through. Honestly, I don’t have much bad to say about this one, it’s just very silly fun.

Unfortunately we are back to being not great with Captain Sternn. Sternn, played by Eugene Levy (of The Wacky World of Mini Golf fame), is basically an intergalactic war criminal on trial, and when his paid witness Hanover Fiste (played by Rodger “Squidward Tentacles” Bumpass) comes up to the stand, the Loc-Nar influences him to the most evil act possible… betraying this war criminal in front of the judge and jury! GASP! I’m not sure what the Loc-Nar is really trying to do here; you’d think it would maybe want Sternn free to continue spreading wicked influence across the galaxy, but nah, it just makes Squidward hulk out and tries to kill him, only for the tables to be turned and Squidward to be dropped out an airlock, further cementing how utterly useless the Loc-Nar is.

Thankfully, once that’s over, we have yet another very strong segment, another contender for best in show: B-17. This is a genuinely creepy zombie short film, and the zombies are utterly horrifying and grotesque. This is regarded as the most nightmarish part of the film, and for good reason; this shit is certainly worthy of being called “heavy metal.” Honestly, there isn’t much bad to say about this one either, except perhaps that it is over far too soon.

Then we get to what is probably the worst segment: So Beautiful, So Dangerous. The entire segment is sort of meant to be a lighthearted comedic breather between The last segment and the final one, but it just comes off as combining every problem the movie has into one segment: the uselessness of the Loc-Nar, copious and ridiculous sex, drugs, and so on. Really all that’s missing from this is gratuitous violence, but hey, guess you can’t have everything all the time, right? It just comes off as really dull and pointless, and there’s not really anything particularly funny about anything that happens in it, unless of course you’re a thirteen year old who thinks “big boob woman having sex with robot while aliens snort cocaine” is the funniest shit on Earth.

Thankfully, we end on a strong note with Taarna, which is about a proud warrior woman dressed in horrifically impractical armor (and this actually effects the plot, I’m not kidding, somehow there was some self-awareness here) and a cool alien pteradactly flying off to fulfill a vengeful pact after the slaughter of a peaceful race by barbarians mutated by the Loc-Nar, in what may be the Loc-Nar’s sole impressive feat. Taarna is the ultimate hero, giving us the trifecta of qualities a heroine in this movie should have – boobs, butt, and bush... Er, I mean, sword, cool mount, and ass-kicking prowess. This one is not quite as good as “Den” or “B-17,” but I still think it’s a solid finale that has enough action and awesome music to make up for its tackier elements.

The movie ends with Taarna’s defeat of the Loc-Nar echoing through time and killing it which… makes absolutely zero sense, but whatever, the Loc-Nar is an absolutely atrocious villain and perhaps one of the most useless in cinematic history, he gets a 1/10 on Psycho Analysis. Then the girl gets her own kickass space dragon thing and becoming the new Taarna or something and, honestly, it’s the exact  sort of batshit ending you should expect from the film.

So, is this really an awful film? In some places, no. It’s a love letter to cheesy, trashy sci-fi fantasy from the 70s, with all that comes with it, and in that regard it does succeed. But still, a lot of the film feels like the utterly juvenile fantasies of same sad high schooler, or perhaps even middle schooler, who has never had and who likely never will have sex. It’s a tashy little time capsule to a bygone era where this sort of storytelling was okay so long as there was enough blood and titties on display, so if that appeals to you, by all means, check this film out. It’s certainly not the worst thing in the world to watch, but animation has come so far and adult animation in particular is capable of so much more than adolescent masturbatory fantasies that this film has little value beyond a few solid segments and a damn good soundtrack.

Hell, just go listen to the soundtrack. I think you’d have a better time doing that.

[aion-rsa]

Marvel’s Loki Episode 5 Ending Explained: Who is the Real Villain of the MCU Series?

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This article contains spoilers for Loki episode 5.

Agent Mobius did say that time ran differently in the TVA but who could have imagined that the penultimate episode of Loki would arrive so quickly? Marvel’s Loki episode 5 “Journey Into Mystery” keeps up a streak of superb installments for this increasingly superb show. 

In this hour, Mobius joins the side of the heroes, Judge Renslayer has some questions, and Loki and Sylvie’s relationship continues to blossom thanks to the conjuring of an uncomfortable green blanket. Equally as important, however, is that “Journey Into Mystery” raises some big questions about the ending of this show and the future of the MCU. Questions like…

What is The Void?

This episode does a pretty good job of succinctly describing what the Void is. The Void is the end of time, itself. Since the Time-Keepers are unable to completely destroy matter (Theory of Conservation of Mass and all that), they send unwanted Variants to the end of the timeline to languish or be swallowed by a hungry monster (more on him in a bit). 

In Marvel Comics, The Void is something of an actual character. It is a destructive amorphous entity capable of both adopting a corporeal form and destroying the universe as we know it. During the Siege storyline, the Void even killed Loki, which then facilitated his “rebirth” as Kid Loki. See how this all starts to fit together?

What is Alioth?

In the world of Loki, Alioth is a big, hungry cloud monster that prowls the Void looking to consume yummy matter. It’s the TVA’s unwitting cleaning service, wiping out all the Variants that the TVA can’t eliminate. Classic Loki helpfully offers up the analogy that the Void is a shark tank, and Alioth is the shark.

Alioth of the comics was first introduced in 1993’s Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective #1. That same comic also introduced Ravonna Renslayer and features Kang the Conqueror as its central villain. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together. 

Alioth is considered to be the first being that broke free from the constraints of time. It’s no wonder then that it would make an appearance in Loki.

What’s Up With That Castle?

It’s about time a Marvel villain lives in an honest-to-goodness castle! While it’s still possible that this is a misdirect and this environment is not what it seems, for now it looks like episode 6 will be headed off to a spooky castle.

Interestingly, there are no shortages of spooky castles in Marvel comics lore. Perhaps the most famous one is Castle Doom within Doomstadt. Bet you’ll never guess who lives there! Yes, it’s ol’ Victor von Doom himself, Doctor Doom to his friends…of which he has very few.

Another notable abode is Castle Limbo, which serves as the home of Immortus, who was once Nathaniel Richards a.k.a. Kang the Conqueror. Look, Kang is a confusing character, so you’ll just have to trust us on this one.

What is Mobius’s Plan?

Thank the gods that Loki and Mobius finally embraced their destiny as best bros. Mobius leaves all the Lokis behind in The Void to return to the TVA. What does he plan to do once he gets there? Why, burn the whole thing down, of course!

It’s unclear how Mobius believes he’s able to pull off such a grand task. The TVA is an enormous bureaucracy with seemingly infinite moving parts. The only real weapon that Mobius has at his disposal is the truth. The truth changed his and Hunter B-15’s perspectives but can it do the same for everyone else? The only other named TVA employee that we’re aware of is Casey (Eugene Cordero). He seems like a sweet, non-confrontational lad. But perhaps that will all change once he realizes he’s been robbed of fish dinners his whole life.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

What Becomes of the Other Lokis?

The most pleasantly strange aspect of “Journey Into Mystery” is how many new Lokis it introduces. This hour features: Classic Loki (Richard E. Grant), Boastful Loki (DeObia Oparei), Kid Loki (Jack Veal), President Loki (Hiddleston), and Alligator Loki (uh… a CGI alligator). Naturally, each of those Lokis has their own official hashtag sprite on Twitter. 

Fittingly for their chaotic energy, each of the Lokis introduced in this episode have quite different ultimate fates. Boastful Loki betrays his Loki comrades, because that’s just what Lokis do. The subsequent scene of President Loki and his Void army battling the other Lokis is one of the best moments of this show yet. That causes our Loki to take off with Classic, Kid, and Alligator. When Mobius invites that trio to come back to the TVA with him, they decline because the Void is their home now.

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That is the last we’ve seen of Kid Loki and Alligator Loki thus far but not the last of Classic Loki. The comic-accurate trickster returns to help Loki and Sylvie when they need it the most. He uses stunningly powerful magic to create an approximation of Asgard all around him, distracting the ravenous Alioth. Even Sylvie with her enchantress power is stunned by Classic Loki’s abilities. 

Is Richard E. Grant’s Classic Loki Really Dead?

Ultimately Classic Loki is swallowed up by the Alioth and therefore finally blinked out of existence. Or is he? It seems like he could have been utilizing the very same technique here he claims to have used to escape his death at the hands of Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War. “I think we’re stronger than we realize,” Loki tells Sylvie, so this would certainly be a case of that if it came down to it.

Plus, that leads us to the final and most important question that this episode raises. 

Who is the Villain?

Who indeed? There has been one name bandied about as the most likely Loki Big Bad. Before we get to him (and it’s absolutely who you think), indulge us in another theory. What if the villain of Loki is…

Classic Loki or Another Loki Variant

Richard E. Grant is kind of a big deal as an actor. It’s not every day you can find a seasoned performer who can portray a kindly exterior with some menace underneath. With that in mind, it’s possible that Classic Loki is a bigger character than he appears at first glance. This episode goes out of its way to communicate just how powerful Lokis can be. And when you combine that kind of god-like power with a trickster’s sensibility, it’s not hard to imagine that Classic Loki, or another Loki entirely, could be pulling all the strings. 

Kang the Conqueror 

While Loki confronting himself in the end would make for a dramatically interesting enterprise, the hard evidence at hand still seems to indicate that Kang the Conqueror is our real villain. The internet at large has been banging the drum for Kang the Conqueror as the ultimate Loki villain for weeks now and it’s not hard to see why.

This isn’t a case of collective delusion like with all of the Nightmare/Mephisto WandaVision theorizing, Kang really does seem to be a legitimate possibility. For starters, we know we already have an MCU actor for Kang in the fold already in the form of Jonathan Majors (Lovecraft Country). Kang was announced for Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania but doesn’t it sound very Marvel for the character to make his unexpected debut here?

In the comics, Kang the Conqueror is wrapped up in multiverses, timelines, and all manner of heady sci-fi nonsense that Loki is already invested in. In fact, as Reddit user u/Hpotter821 points out, one iteration of Kang in Marvel comics sought to become Immortus by eliminating all of his other Variants. It would seem that creating the TVA to police other timelines would be quite useful in that mission. 

Then there’s the fact that Kang has at least some level of crossover with just about every major character and element of Loki. Kang has a relationship with Ravonna Renslayer in the comics and is also an occasional rival of Alioth. The show is not shy about injecting Kang’s aesthetic into the proceedings. While ostensibly space lizards as Loki described them, the Time-Keepers do appear to resemble the classic Kang the Conqueror look a bit. And the TVA logo? 

Oh. Hey. I just noticed that the centerpiece of the Time Variance Authority’s seal totally looks like Kang’s head. 🤷‍♂️ #Loki pic.twitter.com/93QzNDVSbi

— Ken Plume (@KenPlume) July 2, 2021

Oh yeah, that’s Kang, baby.

Perhaps by this time next week, all of this Kang conjecture will look as silly as WandaVision’s Mephisto fever dream. It’s undeniable, however, that Loki has provided us with plenty of breadcrumbs. If it’s all a Kang-sized red herring, then so be it. 

Doctor Doom

This is a considerable longshot, despite the fact that we’ve wanted it to happen for a long time. Doom was at the center of Marvel Comics’ multiverse-shattering Secret Wars event by Jonathan Hickman and Esad Ribic, and the castle we see in this episode’s conclusion sure does look an awful lot like his humble Doomstadt home.

Every time we get excited about Doctor Doom or the potential Secret Wars threads embedded in this show, we’re brought back to reality by the fact that there’s virtually no way that Marvel would introduce arguably their greatest villain in a teasing series finale episode, especially not when they’ve got the Kang-centric Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania to tee up with Kang. Yes, we’re hedging our best by including him, but can you blame us?

Anyway, patience, Doom fans. The Fantastic Four movie is finally a priority for the MCU, and we should see that by 2023.

Kevin Feige

This obviously won’t happen but in the spirit of Marvel’s next Disney+ series What If…?, what if Loki and Sylvie arrive to the throne room in the castle and Marvel Studios head Kevin Heige is hanging out there wearing one of his trademark baseball caps? As witnessed in WandaVision and now Loki, this phase of Marvel cinematic storytelling is clearly about setting up a new multiverse of possibilities. What better way to introduce that multiverse than by completely breaking the fourth wall?

OK, so there are probably a ton of better ways but Feige would at least be fun and truly unexpected.

The post Marvel’s Loki Episode 5 Ending Explained: Who is the Real Villain of the MCU Series? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[notbecauseofvictories]

hi i've always loved the idea of opera but i live in a country where there's no live performances so i want wondering how to get into it or where to start??

What a great question! Even the US—which boasts some amazing opera companies—opera is hard to get into unless you live near a major metropolitan area and have some serious cash to throw around on tickets. I myself would have never gotten into opera in the first place if it hadn’t been for my AP European History class showing The Magic Flute, which is an English translation of the Mozart classic from Kenneth Branagh and Stephen Fry. It’s actually a great introduction, if you can get your hands on it. (I always recommend Magic Flute as a gentle, silly, and very beautiful entry to opera—Mozart knew what he was doing.)

However, in my experience, opera is always on the prowl to find new fans, and is willing to try a lot of different ways of finding them. If you have a public library near you that stocks DVDs, it’s very likely they have some recorded opera performances—even if they’re 1960s productions of Cosi fan tutti and Aida.

If not, here are some great places to find opera recordings online.

YOUTUBE — You might have heard of it? Actually, youtube is a great resource to try out operas, without paying a [insert your local currency here]. You might miss out on subtitles in your language(s) but as Terry Pratchett once put it, opera lyrics (”Love! Love! I love you!” sung in Italian) aren’t much to write home about anyway. Things to try:

Personally, I love this recording of a 2008 La Bohème with Anna Netrebko and Rolando Villazón—the production values! the cast!

This recording of Dido and Aeneas. A little older and lower-budget, but lovely to watch. Purcell is a great English composer, and his arias are a pleasure to listen to.

Unfortunately, more modern operas tend to be covered by copyright and so harder to find. However, here is a recording of The Passenger, an opera about the Holocaust feat. a 1960s libretto reworked in 2010 for its world debut. If you’re not particularly fond of chamber music and Romanticism, this is a good example of what Modern Opera sounds like.

MET OPERA ON DEMAND — If you’ve got a little bit of money to throw around ($15 USD a month) I’ve never found anything to rival the Met’s online database of performances, past and present. It’s basically Netflix for opera. If the Metropolitan Opera hasn’t performed it, it’s not for the novice opera fan anyway. Things to try:

Thaïs (hot priests and the sexually adventurous women who love them)

La Fille du Régiment with Javier Camarena and Pretty Yende (it’s SO GOOD I love a reimagined staging.)

War and Peace by Sergei Prokofiev (………….I had to include a Russian, and it was this or Eugene Onegin, and I prefer Prokofiev)

INTERNATIONALLY 

Unfortunately, my knowledge is very US-specific, but I am reliably informed that Arte, Culture Box, Staatsoper.tv, and Opera.Medici.tv are the places to go for streaming European operas. Definitely investigate those, and look for traditional standards of the opera world: your Puccinis and Mozarts and Verdis and Rossinis are a good place to start. Also, don’t put too much pressure onto one opera; I’ve definitely spent money on tickets I left he theater thinking were a waste of money. Unfortunately, like every genre, quality and personal appeal is variable.

[ellus986]

Is summer different in the jungle? Chapter 1

Eugene Sledge x nurse!reader

Summary: You met Eugene on the field, when the nurses arrived at the Beach of Peleliu. You met thousands of injured soldiers, but none of them give you butterflies in your stomach, until you met him in the camp. You knew immediately that he will mean so much to you. It started with a little flirt, but ended in a two months realtionship while they were in the camp.

Warning: swearing

Three days before heading back into the jungle

“Eugene! I’m not going home!” You yell, while he is following you to the empty beach.

“Y/N, Why? I want to know that you are safe!” He runs his long fingers in his brown locks.

“I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself!” You mumble turning back to him, stoping so fast he almost falls on you.

“Don’t make me mad!” He grabs your temple, and pulls you closer.

“I don’t want to, but I can make my own choices!”

“It was your choice to say yes, when I asked you to marry me!” He replies even angrier.

“And I will as both of us made it back home safe!” You nod.

“Why can’t you just go?” He whinces.

“Because if I do, I wouldn’t be the woman you felt in love with! Do you want someone else?” You wishper slicking his face, but he grabs your hand and throws it away.

“Don’t touch me when you are a brat!”

“You can call me a brat, but love I will be still here when you walk out of that jungle again!” You shout in his face.

“I can’t believe you!” He gets away.

“Why can’t I be here? You will be on the frontline, not me! I will watch every injured who comes in if it is you, and I will be waiting here, hoping that you are still alive!” You can’t take it anymore, as sweet he was most of the time, if he got something on his mind, God help you with that.

“You can do that at home too!” His respond cuts deep.

“Fuck you, Eugene!” You scream.

“Ooh me?”

“Yes, you!” You are mad, and your stomach is already spinning around.

“I can’t believe you!” He start to walk away. “I don’t want to deal with you right now! I will if I got back, as you won’t go away anyways!”

He leaves you there, and you vomit.

~~~~~~~~~~

5 months later

“Y/N! They are coming back! They are coming back!” Runs Brittany, your bestfriend to you.

“Why are you so excited, doll?” You smooth some hair out of her face, she is five years younger than you, and sometimes you can’t even feel it, but today it is obvious.

“Me? You should be!” She giggles.

“I will if I really need to, but until than I save my energy!” You put your hand on your aching back.

You later sit at the camp fire with a light blanket over your shoulder as the summer breeze got a little colder this evening, when you see Snafu. He is looking for someone in the almost empty place, and you can see how his eyes are lighting up as he finds you. You get up as he is running to you. “I thought you will be with all the ladies waiting for us, but Sledgehammer already burried your love, as he thinks you find someone else for yourself!” He says it with one breath, and you giggle into his ear, as you hug him.

“It is hard to move on, if you can’t even move easily!” You chuckle rubbing your belly.

“What the heck?” He looks at your bump in shock.

“You never saw a pregnant woman before?” You chuckle.

“Yes I did, I ... I just...” he sutters gazing on you.

“You are suprised?”

“To say the least!” His eyes finds yours again. “Why didn’t that fucker ever told me?” He hugs you again, kissing your temple.

“Because he has no idea!” You mumble pulling out of his arms.

“What?” He looks at you in disbeliefe. “But...”

“Ofcourse he is the father, this...” you point at your belly. “Could happen in the last 5 months!”

“You shouldn’t be already at home?” He puts his hand on your belly.

“I still have time, and I did promise to Gene I will be here when he gets back!” You smile.

“You stubborn woman!” He grimaces at you.

“I just wanted to keep my promise!” You admit.

“But now you are not going to see him?” He smooths some hair out if your face.

“Shelton, honey! He left after not speaking to me for three days after our fight, excuse me but I won’t be the one running after him!” You walk to your tent. “If he wants to speak with me he knows where to find me!” You step in the door of your tent. “Good night Snafu, have fun, get drunk, be happy you are out again!” You kiss his cheek.

“Good night Y/N!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eugene’s point of view:

He missed you so much, and wanted to apologise for how he went off, but you were nowhere between the nurses waiting for the marines. The one thing keeping him alive: the thought of you waiting for him, was a lie. He should’ve been more wiser, you were young, and beautiful ofcourse you found yourself someone else in the last almost half year.

He saw Snafu walking away from the crowd of nurses, and he already knew Merriell was about to look after you. You two immediately get close as friends, in the minute you fell in love with Eugene.

He followed his bestfriend to see where you are at, to maybe break his heart in a second to see you in someone elses arms, or just find out you are not here anymore. When Shelton started to run he stayed close behind, but far enough to be not seen. That was his luck, as he needed to lean on to something, when his gaze finally find you. You changed, you are still beautiful, but look so different. Your eyes told everything about how tired you are, and your hands constantly rubbing your back told Eugene it is hurting a lot, and your belly, it is round and nothing he would expect coming out of the hell he was in.

He was not ready to meet you, to find out it is his child or someone else’s. He was not ready to find out you waited for him or not. His heart was racing, he finally saw you, but was too afraid to walk up to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning

Your point of view:

You had a restless night as Eugene never find the way to you. Your dream about him with some other woman was so vivid you wake up crying, waking Brittany up too.

You get your now almost too tight uniform on, put your hair in a bun and walk to get some breakfast.

As you want to sit down you see Snafu waving in your way, so you get down next to him. “Good morning!” He turns to you. “Oh God you cried?”

“I had a bad dream, woke up crying!” You nod.

“Oh honey! You dreamed with him?” He rubs your upper arm for comfort.

“With an another woman...” you sniff.

“Hey, hey, hey! It was just a dream! He slept next to me all night, or atleast tried!” He smooths some hair out of your face.

You can’t help it, just to feel down. He was here, but doesn’t even bother to look after you.

As you finish Brittany walks up to you with your cardigan in her hand. “I take your shift, honey! Go for a walk on the beach to calm yourself a little bit, Shelton would you look after her if I ask you?” She puts the piece of clothes on you, and smiles at your friend.

“Yes ma’am!” He winks at her.

“You don’t need to do my shift too!” You grab her hand.

“You shouldn’t even be here, I don’t even know how you maneged to not be sent home! You need rest after this night!” She kisses your cheek and walks away.

“She is right! You should be already at home!” Shelton gives you a helping hand.

“I still can work, and there is a lot of soldiers to help on, so I was needed!” You mumble hardly standing up.

You grab into his upper arm as you are about to walk to the windy beach. It helps with your dark thoughts a little bit, but still you cannot not think about Eugene, your sweet Eugene, who do not want to see you. Your sweet Eugene who you will see everyday in your child, you would bet that every part of your child will remind you of your love.

You sit on one of the dunes, next to Snafu who is speaking to you consantly, but you can’t hear anything he says. “Do you even listening?” He waves infront of your face.

“Sorry! Where were you?” You shake your head, not even realising how much you are rubbing your bump.

“Shelton, can I speak with my fiancé alone for a moment?” Rings the so familiar voice behind you, and you turn so fast you almost fall from the dune, his hand grabing yours is the only thing keeping your from that.

“Yes ma’am!” Mumbles Snafu already running down to the water.

“Eugene...” you sutter already tears in your eyes. He gets on his knees and holds you close. “I missed you!”

“Y/N! I can’t believe I am holding you in my arms!” He wishpers in your ear and you feel how tears are falling from his face, just as from yours. “You waited for me...”

Eugene’s point of view:

“You waited for me...” it fell from his lips, as in the second he looked in your eyes he knew, he knew he should have been there with you last night, he should have run to you, you did keep your words, you waited for him.

“Yes, we did!” You sniff, burrying your face in his shoulder. “They wanted to send me home, but I couldn’t go without seeing you on more time!”

“Thinking about you waiting for me was the only thing keeping me alive there!” He kisses your cheek, your temple, your forhead, your nose.

“You are here now!” You mumble looking into his hazel eyes.

“In your arms...”

“In my arms, love!” You giggle, pulling him on your chest, falling back in the sand. “My night were so lonesome without you, even I had a piece of you with me all time!” You mumble rubbing your belly, and he puts his hand on it too.

“A piece of me...” he repeats your words.

“Gene...” your voice is so weak he looks up at you. “I’m afraid...”

“Of what love?” He pinches your jaw, and a faint smile sits on his face.

“What if I won’t be a good mother? What if I fail without you?” You close your eyes, but he can’t stop your tears falling from your cheek.

“Don’t be Silly!” He smooths your hair. “You will be wonderfull!”

“I don’t want to do it without you...”

“You don’t need to...” he kisses your forhead. “The war will end sooner or later and I marry you in the minute we are both finally home!”

“I can’t wait for that day!” You mumble and he is suprised, even he wanted this so bad.

“You still want to marry me?”

“Ofcourse I want! Why would I not want to? You are the love of my life, we are having a child!” You say it. He thought this is the Truth, but hearing it was the last thing he needed to be sure, you really waited here for him, with his child under your heart.

“You are the only one who matters to me!” He wishpers into your forhead before corecting himself. “And ofcourse... our child!” You can hear his hesation.

“I know you wouldn’t ask my sweet Gene as Snafu did, but yes I carry your child, and it couldn’t be anyone else’s as I was only with you all my life!” You say it huffish but not mad.

“You didn’t needed to say anything!” He wishpers, realising how childish this looked, it felt like he did not trusted you. “It was long time, but maybe it will be more, I trust you!”

“Gene, I understand! Yesterday you thought I maybe find someone else, you needed the clear answer, it is okay!” You giggle. “But instead eating ourself on how we treated eachother, tell me, how would you name our child!” You put your head in his lap as he sits up.

He still can’t believe what is going on, that he is going to be a father soon, that he is not dreaming. It was on his mind, that one day he wants to start a family with you, but he never thought that he already did. He was proud, he was happy, but most of all he was shocked.

You spend the day on the beach planing on your future once the war is over. God how much he wanted it to happen, to just go home with you in this moment, to take you to Mobile, to be your husband, watch your child growing up, together.

To be continued ...

My sweet perms:

@simply-sams-things @spacedust1124719