#i miss all this sympathy and friendship between players

[fannyyann]

Matthew Tkachuk on friend, former teammate Johnny Gaudreau: ‘I’m going to keep his memory alive’

FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. — Matthew Tkachuk, reigning Stanley Cup champion and prince of South Florida, was bouncing off the walls at the Baptist Health IcePlex on Tuesday. He delivered light cross-checks to his Florida Panthers teammates and led the pack in conditioning drills, and his mouthguard received its customary chomping.

It appeared to be business as usual for the young star who is always occupied with something, whether it be selling the sport in Florida or partying with the Stanley Cup all summer.

Right now, that might be for the best.

Tkachuk’s dream summer turned into a nightmare when he learned of Johnny Gaudreau’s death on Aug. 29.

Gaudreau and his brother, Matthew, were killed in a traffic crash in Oldmans Township, N.J., outside Philadelphia. Police said the brothers were riding bicycles when they were hit by a driver trying to pass an SUV on a two-lane road.

Tkachuk and Johnny Gaudreau played together for six seasons with the Calgary Flames, a couple of American kids taking western Canada by storm, often on the same line. The two left the Flames in the summer of 2022, Gaudreau signing as a free agent with the Columbus Blue Jackets, while Tkachuk was sent to the Panthers in a blockbuster deal.

Tkachuk, whose life has been a whirlwind for months, hasn’t had enough time to process Gaudreau’s death in the month since it happened.

“You put so much work into a season, that’s where all of your energy goes,” Tkachuk said. “Then you make the playoffs. You make the Final. And then, when it was over, we got to celebrate this summer. It was the greatest summer of my life, and some of the most incredible memories were made. But then, right at the end of this amazing summer, the unthinkable happened.”

Gaudreau took Tkachuk under his wing in Calgary, and a forever friendship was formed. Understandably, Gaudreau is on Tkachuk’s mind every day, but that was already the case long before Gaudreau was gone.

“Ever since I left Calgary and came to Florida, all I ever do is tell stories about Johnny,” Tkachuk said. “At one point, I was probably telling the guys down here a Johnny story once a week. I was always talking about him, about something funny he had done, something he had done in practice, whatever. He was the kind of guy that you could never get out of your mind, and I hated being away from him.”

Gaudreau and Tkachuk talked all the time after leaving Calgary, and while they badly missed playing together, they looked forward to having another opportunity to wear the same jersey and maybe even play on the same line.

The NHL 4 Nations Face-Off — a tournament among the United States, Canada, Finland and Sweden — will be in less than five months in Boston and Montreal. Then, in 2026, NHL players will return to the Olympics for the first time since 2014. Between the NHL balking at its season being delayed and COVID creating havoc with the 2021-22 schedule, NHL players have not participated in the Olympics for a decade.

“You have to understand that Johnny and I talked about being in the Olympics together a lot,” Tkachuk said. “In 2022, when they canceled us from being in the Olympics, we were so upset. We were both playing really well together in Calgary and we thought we were going to be so good in the Olympics. We talked about it all the time. That was a tough one. He had played for Team USA in so many big events, and I know it meant a lot to him. Obviously, we would have been together this time. It’s tough to think about right now. But I know he would have been excited for those tournaments and he will be on my mind during those times even more than he usually is.”

Tkachuk doesn’t require nor ask for any sympathy. He simply misses his friend.

“Trust me, I feel like I’m the luckiest guy in the NHL,” he said. “I get to play a sport that I love, and it’s my job. And I get to play it (in Florida), which, in my opinion, is the best place in the league. The lifestyle. The fans we’ve developed down here. The way our fan base is growing and growing every day. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than this place. It really is the best, and I’m so lucky to have this life. I came here to win a Cup. I looked at this group of guys and I knew it could be done. I knew something special could happen. I guess I was right.”

Tkachuk’s emotions will surely peak in a few weeks, when the Panthers play on Oct. 15 in Columbus for the Blue Jackets’ home opener. In lieu of typical opening night ceremonies, the Blue Jackets will honor the memory of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau.

“I really haven’t thought about that night too much just yet,” Tkachuk said. “But I have a feeling that it’s going to be pretty tough to play that night. It’s not just me that’s feeling it, obviously. The whole league is feeling it right now. Anyone who knew him is feeling it even more.”

Tkachuk is busy preparing his Panthers for a chance to claim back-to-back championships. Dynasties aren’t much of a thing in the modern-day NHL, but the Panthers have won the Cup once, have been to the Final two years consecutively, and their core remains in its 20s.

“We can do something special,” Tkachuk said.

Even still, a small part of his mind remains focused on the international tournaments, where he’ll never get the chance to play with Gaudreau again. But he does have a chance to honor Gaudreau during those tournaments.

“It’s been a really, really, really tough few weeks,” he said. “I still can’t even believe it. It’s just so sad. All of it.”

While sitting and looking down at the Panthers practice facility, Tkachuk’s face alternates emotions, his mind churning.

“You know, the thing that’s getting me through this is those stories I was telling you about,” he said. “Those stories about him I tell all the guys constantly. I’m going to keep those stories with me forever and I’m going to keep his memory alive in everybody by continuing to tell those stories.”

He hopes to generate another story involving Gaudreau when the Olympics arrive.

“He would have been there and wearing that Team USA jersey meant a lot to him,” Tkachuk said. “It means a lot to me, too. When I’m there, he will be on my mind the whole time. Even more than usual. And I’ll be telling stories.”

[thegreymoon]

Squid Game

The way they strung them up 😬

Yikes.

***

This is why I think the cop’s brother is alive and working for the organisation. The leader genuinely believes in equality and fairness in this pit of horror. If the brother was the winner, that means that he got all that money years ago, but he only went missing months ago. Why did his family not know? Because he was hiding it. Why was he hiding it and hoarding the money? I think the brother is the business man that Gi-hun met at the beginning, who lured him into the game. 

***

LOLOLOLOL, I can’t wait to watch you die 🔪🔪

***

LMAO, she ended up alone 🤣🤣

Imagine being that unpleasant, nobody wants anything to do with you. I wonder if she really had a newborn or was just bullshitting for sympathy? 

Also, what are the odds that they won’t turn the players in pairs against each other to break up friendships and alliances? There can only be one winner, after all, and it’s more cruel to watch friends turn on friends. 

***

Smh. I knew it.

This show is so damn upsetting. I need to take a break. Play a few rounds of Candy Crush or something. Drink a cup of tea. 

***

Wait, I am not done! The way they set them up in the last round for this, smh. Making them work together with a team of their choosing, letting them bond. Letting them draw conclusions that it will be the same this time around too. This is going to be so hard. Gi-hun wanted to save the old man, and now he will have to personally kill him. 

***

I need to keep taking breaks every five minutes. Jesus. 

***

The game between Sang-woo and Ali is particularly unpleasant, but so is the one with Gi-hun and the old man.

***

Smh.

Loudly religious people and religious leaders are among the most evil people alive. 

***

I just can’t watch Sang-woo beg and lie to Ali. This complete lack of dignity. I know that he facing death, but please. Just watch him screw him over. Besides, Ali is so naive and good-hearted and literally stupid, I can’t stand him. It’s a death game!! Pull yourself together, dude! 🤬🤬 Anyway, no love for either of them. 

***

So damn stupid 🤬🤬

He has more than earned his death here and good riddance to him. 

***

This one hit me the hardest. 

***

Well. At least it was his choice to go this way than Gi-hun outright tricking a senile old man. 

***

Hell show.

[zutaralesbian]

If you're still doing the character thing: Anne Bonny, Azula, Karen Jackson

Anne Bonny:

My three favorite things about them:

Her loyalty. When Anne loves, she loves HARD. And you see that in her relationships with Jack and Max.

Her lack of ambition. While I LOVE ambition as a character trait (especially in female characters) Anne's lack of ambition is kind of refreshing in a show like Black Sails where almost all of the other characters are after something. At the end of the day Anne doesn't really care about treasure or power. She just cares about the people in her circle and supports them in their goals. (Those characters, again, mainly being Jack and Max.)

The way she's allowed to be dirty and say crude things. It's the trope of the grumpy warrior who is only soft for the people they care for....but in a female character. We really don't get female characters like Anne too often.

My three least favorite things about them:

I don't really like that the fact that she was the one who got Max captured by Vane in S1 was brushed over so fast. Yes she was the only person in Vane's crew that stood up for Max and she helped Eleanor free Max and murder her rapists, but she was part of the reason Max ended up there to begin with. Other than a brief comment about it from Max in S1, it wasn't even really acknowledged. Meanwhile the show allowed Anne to be angry at Max for betraying her and Jack for almost an entire season.

The fact that she killed poor Charlotte

????? I don't think I have anything else

My three favorite dynamics with them in it (romantic or platonic):

Anne/Max: Obviously! I love these two and their love story really spoke to me. I wish they had gotten a more explicit resolution :(

Anne/Jack: Another obvious choice. I think their relationship is a bit more unhealthy than some people like to admit (mostly the way she was an abuse and rape survivor and spent years feeling indebted to him because he saved her) but they are ride or die.

????? Anne didn't really have a lot of prominent relationships outside of Max and Jack. I do think her dynamic with Idelle was kind of compelling and I wish we had seen more of it. But I don't think it would have ever been a proper friendship since Idelle (rightfully) doesn't like Anne because she killed her friend.

My three favorite moments of theirs:

"I can't be your wife, Jack." I was just so proud of her

The scene where she opens up to Max about the abuse she suffered from her ex husband. It was so sad but very revealing :(

When she killed Max's rapists

Azula:

My three favorite things about them:

Her competence. I loved the fact that she was a villain that should be feared and she was not easily beaten. The other characters were always painfully aware of how easily she could win. And sometimes she did (ex: Ba Sing Se).

Her complexity, even though it makes me cry. Yes she was a great villain but she was also an abused teenage girl and a large part of her wants a sense of normalcy. We see that part really shine through in "The Beach" specifically :(

Her lines and dialogue. She truly has some of the most chilling (and iconic) lines on the show.

My three least favorite things about them:

The fandom discourse surrounding her. I feel like with Azula people are often either of two ways about her: They think she's an irredeemable monster or they think the way she ended up was everyone's fault but her own and use the fact that she was abused to excuse her of everything. I have a more middle opinion of her. I think she is deserving of sympathy and a shot at redemption since she was an abused child. BUT in doing so she would need to address the hurt she caused to people. (And yes Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee would all be on that list of people). She's a complicated character that deserves nuanced takes on her. Other than that though I don't think I have any issues with her.

My three favorite dynamics with them in it (romantic or platonic):

Azula/Zuko: Ugh this is one of the most interesting but tragic relationships on the whole show 😔

Azula/Mai/Ty Lee: Yes it ended in flames and was problematic but a trio of villainous girls kicking ass???? How could I not love that????

Azula/Ursa: I'm into this dynamic more for the potential? I so wish we had gotten to see more of it (that's not the comics lmao) because it could be so interesting and angsty. Idk. I think about Azula and her deeply complicated relationship with her mother a lot.

My three favorite moments of theirs:

"My own mother....thought I was a monster. She was right of course but it still hurt." And just every moment in "The Beach" tbh. Such a good Azula episode.

"Don't flatter yourself. You were never even a player." ICONIC

Her breakdown when she hallucinated Ursa in the series finale. So intense and heartbreaking.

Karen Jackson:

My three favorite things about them:

Her love for Sheila. It was the first thing that drew me to her character in S1.

She's pretty funny a lot of the time. Idk. I just know that a good amount of the iconic scenes from the early seasons involved her.

Her strive to want to be successful. The scene where she asks Frank to come to her parent-teacher conference always breaks my heart because she wanted someone to be proud of her. It makes the way they wrote her character off even more infuriating to me.

My three least favorite things about them:

The fact that she raped Frank

Her ableism towards her baby. (To be clear I firmly believe that Karen had every right to not want to keep the baby. I just wasn't a fan of some of her comments.)

The way she was written off. Especially knowing it likely happened because Laura Slade Wiggins didn't want to do nude scenes anymore 😕

My three favorite dynamics with them in it (romantic or platonic):

Karen/Sheila: The relationship definitely wasn't the best at points (Sheila fucking the grown ass man that slept with her underaged daughter????) but I loved the fact that the show had a complex relationship between a mother and a daughter at one point. I miss them.

Karen/Lip: I don't ship them but their dynamic in S1 at least was honestly pretty cute. The 'I promise I don't love you' scene is one of the most memorable angst scenes from the show imo.

Karen didn't really get the chance to have any other prominent dynamics :( I will forever be pissed about the awful way they handled Karen and Mandy. They actually had a lot in common and in a better world they would have been girlfriends friends.

My three favorite moments of theirs:

Pissing on her father's grave. Iconic.

The 'I promise I don't love you' scene between her and Lip. Idk why I love that scene so much but I do. It was just so well acted.

The scene between her and Sheila where Sheila apologized to her for not always being a great mother. Just the EMOTIONS.

Thank you! :)

[pluviophile-bookworm]

AWAE 3x1 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

So we’re finally here, up to the (unfortunately) final season of AWAE. I will be rewatching and reacting to the first half of the season only, since I’ve already posted my reactions to episodes 5-10 when they were coming out. Just thought I’d say that here. 

For this rewatch, I will be adding onto the notes to myself I made when first watching the episode. Also, this is dedicated to Amybeth McNulty for her birthday today.

So, without further ado, I suggest we dive right in.

Can we talk about how Anne’s beautiful green ribbon gets untied and flies into the air while she is riding through the snow and she doesn’t even seem to care? I mean, she looks back and smiles at it, but doesn’t even think of trying to retrieve it… If I were her, I would have turned the horse around. Although it did seem like the ribbon was too high up in the air for her to reach. Also, her hair is beautiful flying loose in the wind… like we’ve never seen it before. [Present-day note: of course we’ll see it like that again, and from Gilbert’s point of view. That scene was magical. Truly magical]

So… Ruby still has it for Gilbert… and she has it going on strong… she’s supposed to be covering the hockey game for the school newspaper, but she’s dropped her notebook in the snow [Present-day note: again, my dislike of ruining material objects speaks here, but - I felt really bad for that notebook. It’s done nothing to deserve being ruined by the snow] because she only has eyes for one of the players… and so does Anne. I really hope the budding love between her and Gil doesn’t shatter poor little peach Ruby’s heart. [Present-day note: I’m so beyond happy she got over him before Anne realised that she was, as they would say on Friends, ‘under’ him.] She’s a dearie and deserves the best.

The hockey field (probably nothing more than a frozen lake, but this is the 19th century, so, you know) has apparently turned into a place of courtship, as Billy is giving his attentions to Josie and Moody to Diana… but her parents won’t allow it. “Too rich to be a minister’s wife?”, Josie teases. But then the attention shifts to Gilbert who stares at something undefined between Anne and Ruby, leaving it ambiguous which girl his affections are directed to. The whole thing is very awkward to watch, and with no Cole around to reassure Anne that Gilbert has a crush on her, and her only, she may as well think he’s finally returning Ruby’s sympathies. That scene is intense.

The natives appear – a man and a little girl, presumably his daughter, the girl that was mentioned in the articles promoting this season. It turns out the man is the one who makes the hockey sticks for the boys, and the difference in nature between Gilbert and Billy is once again emphasised by how they each treat him. Billy is superficially polite, saying “Thank you” when receiving his new stick, but he says it in a sort of patronising way, like the subtext here is “We whites are better than you”. Gilbert, on the other hand, is just as polite and respectful as he would be to any white man – or woman, for that matter. I mean, he lives with a black couple, so he can’t be racist at all. I mean, he’s an absolute cinnamon roll.

Anne is even better with the natives, as in, she doesn’t even notice anything about them that would make them superficially different than her and her peers. She asks if she could write an article about the man, but not about his lifestyle or different standards, but about the sticks he makes. She sees the quality work, not that the man doing it is non-white. And I bet she’ll be learning a lot about their life and culture later on, in a perfectly respectful and inclusive way. This is beautiful.

Billy comes back and is all kinds of disrespectful, so the girl, Ka’kwet, shows her dislike of him very clearly, and her father warns her against “stir[ring] trouble with the white man”… the tension can’t be ignored anymore. It can practically  be cut with a knife.

The man offers a great judgement of Billy – “The little man with the big ego” – in his own native language, so only Ka’kwet understands. But he couldn’t be more right.

Billy walks away, muttering “Savages” under his breath. Anne, however, isn’t shaken for a millisecond in her wish to visit and interview them later.

So, Billy won’t even be coming back to school, as he’s stepping into the family business. I’m hoping we won’t see much of him anymore. [Present-day note: Unfortunately, we will. And when I say unfortunately, I mean devastatingly. Before this season, I didn’t think this excuse of a guy could get any worse, but in the latter half he’s proven to be an absolute entitled monster. I loathe him, and I’m not even sorry for allowing myself to feel such negative emotions.]

Jane is “chaperoning” Josie and Billy as they walk back from the game? I mean, yes, she is his sister, but she’s younger than him, I think. But well, I’m not sure how chaperoning works in such a situation.

Anne arrives at the natives’… village? What is it, exactly? Anyway, her new budding friendship with Ka’kwet (which, the poor thing says, just means “starfish”; now she and Anne can bond over wishing they had a different name – although Anne isn’t as resentful of hers anymore, now that she’s signed the family bible as “Anne Cordelia Shirley- Cuthbert) is just so beautiful… this show is pure aesthetic. [Both visually and in terms of content.]

Marilla disapproves of Anne’s having fraternised with the natives… the tension builds up. I guess Anne won’t be stopped from seeing her new friends so easily, though.

At the Pye household, Josie’s mother is pressuring her to “get a hold” of Billy before someone else does. I mean, she’s a Pye – an unpleasant person as per the book, so she deserves him. Let her have him, as long as Gilbert is reserved for Anne and Anne alone. [Yeah, in retrospect, not even Josie deserves this imbecile. But I didn’t know back then just how bad he could be.]

So Anne’s words “seems to me I was destined to be the bride of adventure” from the teaser are part of her evening prayer – a change from the (apparently) usual plea to make her good-looking, which she now, on the brink of age 16, sees as a childish wish and not a real prayer. Anne has grown!

“Many suitors or even just one…” Come on, Anne, are you blind? You have one – The One at that. Take Notice of him… I mean, the Take Notice board will be returning as per a gif set I saw here on Tumblr, so I really hope Shirbert moves on a bit quicker than it has so far.

Bash and Mary have a baby! Since when? I don’t know, but I love it. Is Gilbert the godfather? Seeing as he is Bash’s best friend and honorary brother, he must be… oh dreams…. [Either way, he’s her Uncle Gilby]

Her name is Delphine? That’s beautiful. Also, Gilbert just kissed her forehead before going out to school… the dream has come true.

The unlikely duo of Rachel Lynde and Miss Stacy takes centre stage in the next scene where Miss Stacy says she doesn’t need a man as she has discovered self-sufficiency after her husband’s death. Mrs. Lynde, of course, wants to play matchmaker for her. As I said, this is an unlikely duo and I would very much like to know how this relationship turns out further.

Anne and Diana are dreading the nearing day of their separation as Di goes to finishing school in Paris and Anne goes to college in Queens. I really want to know how this separation will turn out. [Fortunately, I won’t have to find out, and neither will they.]

 Another line of tension builds up with the resurrection of the Take Notice board, as the girls discuss the pressure to get married soon and Josie teases Anne about becoming an old maid, as seen in the trailer.

Poor Ruby takes the blow instead of Anne as she, who will apparently be going to Queens with Anne and Gilbert – only in order to remain close to him (poor unfortunate soul), is desperate to receive any advance from him. I really don’t want her to suffer, but here she is now, crying about him not noticing her. I almost want her to not end up going to Queens, as that will most probably be the place where Shirbert’s relationship will finally bloom, and I don’t want her to witness that. [AWAE Ruby would have loved to be Book!Ruby, as she gets much more attention from him there - but she doesn’t care as much. However, seeing as how Book!Ruby ends up, AWAE Ruby should be glad she’s not quite her.]

Anne “bet[s she] can help” Ruby’s Gilbert issue – but if she is the root of the problem and she doesn’t know it, how can she possibly be of any use to poor Ruby?

I’ve never seen Anne ignore someone so hard as she just did Moody – he greeted her and she barely turned her head in his direction, muttering a quick “Hi” before returning to her conversation with the girls… good thing he is not one of her suitors. Although she doesn’t pay much more attention to Gilbert, you know. 

I see Moody has grown up a lot since last time he was seen, and he’s now a close second to Gilbert, at least the way I see it. That’s quite a glow up he’s had. But I kinda wanted Diana and Jerry to be a thing – and now I’m low-key shipping her with Moody “your dress is very… blue” Spurgeon. The poor guy has always been awkward around her; it’s obvious he likes her. [See, I told you I only ship couples that have explicit signs of potential to happen. Even though Diana and Moody didn’t happen even for a second, I’ve apparently seen something in her and Jerry stemming from that one single conversation they had. I mean, he did call her ‘the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen’, so that must have been what made me ship them - even before I had the slightest idea they were going to be a thing this season. I still can’t get over the fact that they were not endgame. In my mind, at least, they are - somewhere in that future we didn’t get to see.]

 And now the super famous “take notice” scene between Anne and Gilbert is happening… oh the tension. [You know, this scene reminds me of Vanessa Hudgens’ Rather Be with You. If you haven’t heard that song, go listen to it and then try to tell me I’m wrong here.]

Anne was apparently talking about Ruby in this scene, and Gilbert was blabbing on about “the right person” and stuff… Shirbert is on!!

Well, that was a turn of events! The second Anne mentions Ruby you can actually see Gilbert’s emotions change. Kudos to Lucas for portraying that only with his eyes. How to those kids do that? 

And poor Ruby has been observing him during the conversation, of course… she is so deluded, the unfortunate thing – she thinks his reluctance to post means he’s looking for a much more romantic advance to make… Poor thing. Shirbert will break her heart and might just ruin her friendship with Anne forever… and she dies young in canon. I just hope Moira finds a way to give her the happy ending she deserves… [And, as we know, Moira didn’t disappoint there. I’m so glad things turned out for Ruby the way they did]

Jerry can read long complicated texts now… he’s reading Frankenstein [Little did I know how important this book would be for his story arc this season], for goodness’ sake! I stan one (1) beautiful [inside and out] French farm boy!! And I ship him with Diana even more now. Although if her parents won’t allow her a future minister, how will they allow a farm boy?

Diana has actual royal ancestry… but that ancestry is “keeping [her] from Queens; from [Anne]”. Isn’t this a tragical Bro-mance right there? It is indeed.

Marilla is helping Mary with the baby… makes me wonder if she has been dreaming of one for so long but never got to have it and this is why she’s so attached to this one… this series is beautiful but dramatic… it really tugs on my heartstrings.

Diana stands up for herself and her own wishes in front of her parents… but she doesn’t achieve more than angering them that way… poor little rich girl, indeed.

Also, I just love how the Barrys express their anger. Diana sits at the piano and starts playing angrily, while her mother embroiders angrily and her father reads his newspaper angrily. [I had no idea two out of those three things could be done angrily. I’ll leave it to you to figure out which two.]

The Take Notice board has a note on it saying “Susan has her sight on Moody Spurgeon”. Who is this Susan and why is she eyeing Moody if he’s courting Diana?

Anne is super excited about turning 16… “Once upon a time this was the happiest day of my parents’ life”. I really want her to find out about her ancestry eventually. But I want her and Gilbert to finally get together more. [Of course, both of these will happen in this season. I sort of knew that even back then.]

Let’s sum up: Anne has beautiful hair, but, more importantly, dreams of finding out her family history; Ruby has it bad for Gilbert - but we already knew that; Ka’kwet and her father make their first appearance and create tension in the process; Billy is racist on top of everything - but we all expected that; courting is in full swing; Rachel Lynde plays matchmaker; lots of tension caused by the Take Notice board; eye (and eyebrow) acting; Jerry reads Frankenstein; Marilla is a really good mother, and not only to Anne; who’d have known embroidery and reading could be done angrily; who is Susan; Anne is nearing 16 and things are about to change forever.

[whenitcounts33]

Join Me pt. 2

What she remembers: Fire burning every cell of her body, reforming and then burning again. Her heart, beating much too fast to be safe, pumping the fire through her body. Victoria speaking to her in a soft voice, crooning to her and brushing hands Bella can barely feel through her hair. It’ll be over soon. I’m sorry. I remember how much it hurts. The fire slowly starting to leave her body, starting with her toes and then her legs and torso. It dragged to her heart, hotter than before.

What she remembers: Edward. The soft venom in his honey voice. I don’t want you anymore. I’m a good liar. All of the Cullen's leaving. Leaving her. Her best friend Alice leaving without a goodbye, half a year of friendship gone because of a paper cut. Esme staring at her in mute horror, hand clasped over her mouth and eyes black with hunger. Jasper’s venom coated teeth snapping inches from her face, a ferocious snarl tearing from his throat. Carlie’s steady breathing as he stitched her better, Rosalie’s smug expression as she left the house, Emmett with her, a firm grip on Jasper. The fear ripping through her, a scream tearing from her sore throat when she woke up every night (when she wakes up two-days later, she remembers them, him, with a soft hatred, understanding why they, he, had to leave her but hating them, him, for it).

What she remembers: When Bella woke up, it was with a gasp. Someone’s hand, skin warm and smooth, maybe soft, was holding hers.

What she remembers: Her body flying from the floor and into a corner, bent into a predatory position, protecting herself. Victoria watched her warily from where Bella originally was, hands held out in a placating gesture. She only noticed her with a part of her brain, the rest of her was focused on everything else. She could see, taste, smell everything. “Wow,” she breathed, and then froze, she could taste the dust motes on her tongue, and the tangy taste of leather and cotton. Her voice, though, that startled her. It was higher pitched, musical, like a bell, nothing like Victoria’s little girl’s voice.

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

Bella loved running, going so fast everything should have blurred as it flew past her, her bare feet barely touching the ground. It felt like flying and for those first few days Bella and Victoria raced each other all the way from Washington to Canada and back again. Victoria let Bella hunt her own way, following closely so nothing went wrong. It felt weird, sinking her teeth into some homeless man’s throat, but the taste and feel of his blood kept her from thinking about it too much. Her eyes were still ruby red; she jumped in fright every time she saw them in a reflection. Victoria told her, after she stopped laughing at Bella, that they wouldn’t be so bright in a year.

It was after the third feeding – round of hunting? – that she bought the topic up to Victoria, nervously fingering the fringes of her yellow sweater. For the first month of her “new” life, she ripped hundreds of shirts and pants trying to get them on. She was so much stronger than the flimsy fabrics now.

“Do you think,” she began, smiling softly when Victoria swatter her fingers away from the sweater, “that we should change our eating habits?” She remembered the Cullen's, thoughts clouds and hazy, and their gold eyes and how they hunted animals, not humans.

Victoria arched a brow, head tilted, something Bella still associated with house cats. “What do you mean?” She asked and Bella swallowed, noting the dull burn in her throat, and sighed softly. “I think we should hunt animals.” She waited with bated breath as the words sunk in, Victoria’s mouth thinning and her eyes turning speculative. “Why do you think that?” she finally asked after 105 seconds of silence. Bella blew out a noisy breath of relief and launched into her explanation. How he – Bella never spoke about them by name and Victoria never questioned it, she just went with it – and the rest of his family had hunter animals, not humans, and that it left them much the same as her and Victoria. How he had hunted after the human predators for a time, how he stopped because he didn’t want to be a monster.

Victoria looked at Bella and Bella looked back, a silent conversation between the two of them going on. Victoria saw how Bella truly wanted this, how only feeding from any human that they found was slowly killing her. Bella saw how Victoria shied away from the thought of hunting animals but liked the idea of hunting down the predators, of making them suffer the way their prey did. Victoria nodded, reaching out her hand, and Bella immediately put her hand in hers, linking their fingers.

This, their relationship, was something Bella never had when she was human. Something she could have had with Alice, had it not been cut short. “We could try,” she says, and hope flares up and Bella throws herself at Victoria, the red-head yelping as the force of the tackle makes Victoria fly backwards, right into an old spruce that crashes to the ground with a loud groan.

“You’re an idiot,” Victoria laughs, fond, and Bella beams.

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

Bella watched as Victoria paced back and forth, too fast for a human to see, too fast for Bella to watch without wincing as her feet makes permanent marks in the cement. “Vic,” Bella sighs, interrupted by the groan of the human boy lying in a pool of his own blood six-feet from where she perched.

Riley Biers. 

Six-feet-three-inches and pure muscle. Not stocky like a football player, but lankier, like a swimmer. Sandy blond hair and a sharp jawline with high cheekbones. A beautiful boy, really. Victoria had stopped him from dying after feeding from his attackers; three assholes who jumped him and brutalized him and left him for dead. Victoria hunted them down and made them pay. Victoria had called up Bella, swearing and frantic, on the verge of a panic attack and Bella had rushed to her, worried about her sister.

“I can’t let him die, Bell,” Victoria sobbed, letting Bella tug her into a tight hug, red curls tickling her cheek. “I think he’s my mate,” she whispered a while after, having gotten Riley stabilized, the bleeding done for now, his ribs wrapped up nice and tight. Bella had taken a nursing class when they got to Seattle, after being in Canada for half a year, and felt sure enough in her skills that she knew Riley would last for a few more hours. Or until Victoria figured out what she wanted to do.

Bella glanced over at her best friend, brows raised, sympathy clear in her orange-amber eyes. “Why do you say that?” She asked, knowing she had to be the one to stay clinical, to not let her emotions or feelings get in the way of what needed to happen. She glanced down at Riley, at the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

“Because” Victoria sighed, running both hands through the snarled mass of red curls, “I could tell from the moment I heard him scream. It was killing me, knowing someone was hurting him, that he was in pain. Then I got to him and took one look at his face and it was like something clicked. Like I was missing something and didn’t realize until he was right there.”

Bella pressed her lips together and glanced down at Victoria. She placed her arms around the other woman, letting her lean against her for comfort. “Then change him,” she whispered. “If he feels the same way about you that you do about him when he wakes up. . ..” She trailed off, shrugging, Victoria hissed slightly when the motion jostled her head on Bella’s shoulder. She was thinking about it though, Bella knew, in the clinical, careful way that she thought.

“Do you really think so?” She asked, voice soft and shy and hesitant and Bella was surprised that her spitfire of a best friend was nervous about this human boy. Though, she supposed, this was certainly not a situation that anyone would be comfortable or sure in. She wondered if Carlisle was this nervous before creating another vampire to join his family. Was he this nervous, or was he self-assured, confident that he was making the right decision?

Victoria suddenly sat up straight, a gasp leaving her mouth and she flew the three-feet to Riley Biers, hands fluttering uselessly over him, eyes wide and frantic. Riley was watching her, cheeks bright red like he had a fever, his own eyes wide, lips parted like he wanted to say something, but Bella beat him to it. “Now or never, Vic,” she said, kneeling down on the other side of Riley, movements slow and deliberate so as to not frighten him. Victoria drew in a deep breath, wincing when the smell and taste of his blood surrounded her.

She told him about the change, about what Bella and Victoria did, how they tried to protect girls, and boys, from those who hurt them, who manipulated them for their own gain. How Riley had a choice: they could change him, turn him into a vampire; they could let him die, peacefully, with no pain; or they could bring him to a hospital.

Three days later, Riley Biers woke up as a vampire. Two months later Bella had to leave Seattle for a few days because she was not listening to Victoria and Riley have sex. No, she’d rather burn again.

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

It was a three months later when they met Bree Tanner. She was a tiny thing and Bella felt a maternal affection and a need to protect for the girl the minute she saw her. She was sitting in a corner, knees drawn up to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She was watching Bella and Bella was watching Bree.

Bella knew Bree was poor, that she had no real home life. She saw her nearly get into some creeps’ car because he offered to buy her dinner for a blowie. Thank god Bree had the good sense to realize she’d probably end up with some disease if she did this and said no. Bella would have thrown up if she could. She settled for draining the guy dry and leaving him in the alley she found him in. Three days later she saw Bree again and this time Bella got her lunch; a turkey sandwich from a Deli Bree likes, with a bag of Taki’s and a strawberry shake from a McDonald’s down the street. Bella also bullies Bree into drinking two bottles of water.

After, when Bree asks why Bella did this, the woman could only shrug, not truly knowing. “You look like you could use the meal and that you don’t know a lot of people who would buy you lunch.” Bree had smiled at that, tentative and as pretty as the sun after a long day of rain. Bella promises herself she’ll buy Bree lunch, or any meal, whenever they see each other.

It’s a month later when Bree’s father dies, and the poor girl is homeless. Bella gets a call from a payphone and rushes to Bree, pulling the crying girl into a tight hug that steals the breath from Bree’s lungs (Bella finally realizes how easily Edward could have killed her when she holds Bree’s fragile, human body in her arms).

Riley and Victoria are with her, standing a few feet back so as to not frighten the girl – neither admit it’s because Bree smells good and Riley is still too new to be trusted so close to a human he wasn’t planning on feeding from. Victoria watches the fond look grow in Bella’s eyes, the way she brushes a lock of black hair from the girl’s forehead, the way the girl doesn’t flinch away from Bella’s alien touch. Bella hadn’t flinched away from Victoria’s touch, but Bella was weird and something different was going on in her brain, so she couldn’t really fault her for that.

Riley tugged her closer, tight against his side and Victoria smiled at the familiar flash of heat that went through her body, snuggling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist. He wasn’t breathing too much, she knows, even knowing Bella and Victoria would never let him hurt someone he shouldn’t. Could never be too careful. “D’you think Bells will change her?” He whispered, low enough anyone that could walk by would have no chance of hearing. Bella, of course, hears him though, and stretches her arm out behind her to flash Riley the finger, making him shake with suppressed laughter.

“Maybe,” Victoria murmurs, resting her head against Riley’s shoulder and listens to Bella ask Bree about her classes at school, listens to Bree go on and on and on about a short story she’s writing for her English class. “We just finished Macbeth though, so she has to give us the test before we really get into the stories. My teacher told me I wrote the best essay in all her classes,” she gloats and Bella beams, proud as any mother. “You’ll have to let me read it,” Bella says and Bree nods eagerly, “’Course,” she promises.

Neither Victoria or Riley is surprised when Bella changes Bree and the two are joined at the hip, Bree always holding onto Bella’s hand and Bella always smoothing down Bree’s hair.

Bella lays at night, Bree curled up against her side as she softly reads from a book of poems by Audre Lorde. Victoria has her head in Riley’s lap, his fingers carding through her wild curls, both listening to Bree’s soft voice.

“In the blood in the bone over coffee/ before dashing for elevators going/ in opposite direction without goodbyes,” she reads out loud and Bella smiles, closing her eyes.

She finally has her family.

[stonerbughead]

Maria watches friday night lights (#36)

5x13, the series finale i have heard nothing but good things about - I made it y’all! *wipes tear* this is a show i will definitely rewatch! It definitely feels like the kind of show that’s so layered that every time you go back you’ll pick up something new. I love shows like that.

i haven’t been on tumblr on my computer in a long time but im gonna go through and add “read more”s to all of these recaps! 

(thanks to anyone who read these nonsense recaps! if you enjoyed these...in addition to my currently-on-hiatus riverdale podcast @bodysuitsforbughead, I have another teen drama-centered podcast in the works, follow @LeftyTeenDrama on Twitter and @leftistteendrama on Instagram to get updates when it launches! I’m taking a break on working on it till i move but it’s gonna be a big part of my 2021 projects. I’ve already recorded one episode with two of my favorite people in the world and it’s gonna be amazing. It will be about a variety of teen dramas, but FNL will definitely be included.)

and without further ado, my final FNL ramblings under the cut:

And we open with one last montage of shots around Dillon from a car, with a “Christmas in Texas” song playing. Amazing. 

Oh wow, I love the “FIVE DAYS TILL THE CHAMPIONSHIP” vibe. The build-up is already here. A shot of Julie in the stands watching practice! 

It’s super uncomfortable that people are talking to Vince about his “future teammates” on the Panthers before the post-season is even over.  “I don’t really wanan talk about that. I want to talk about how the East Dillon Lions are gonna win State.” “Is that a promise?” These Texas sports journalists are WILD. this is a teenage boy whose school’s funding just got cut right before the biggest game of his life! Can we have some sympathy?!

“I hear they’re taking the cream of the crop for the Superteam so I’m gonna be honest with you, what are you gonna do?” EXCUSE ME SIR? I repeat, TEENAGE BOY. Tinker’s response of “you’re an asshole” and storming away was more than appropriate!!!

“No comment”ing his way out of there like a champ.

Ah, the age-old tradition of decorating a Christmas tree while arguing about a five-year football coach contract in Dillon or a dean of admissions job offer at a prestigious Philadelphia college. Julie’s just sitting there with Gracie like ooooh boy 

“Here is where we put our tree, not Philadelphia! It’s a Texas tree.” OMG STOP IT. Lol Julie putting her hands over her ears.

YAY MATT SARACEN IS AT THE DOOOOORRRRR im so excited

Wow I did not expect this proposal to come that quickly into the episode! Like i knew it was coming in this episode but aw. They’re so soft! Just like, oh i’ve been thinking about you nonstop since our perfect Chicago tryst and oh look here’s grandma’s ring let me casually get down on one knee in the town where we fell in love. And after she was just talking about how much she misses Matt to Tyra the episode before? That “yes” she gave feels so certain because of it. Aw.

The grandma’s ring really fucks me up because you know how close Julie and Grandma Saracen have gotten over the years. My heart!

“Oh my God, your dad must’ve flipped.” “...What do you mean?” OH NO Eric Taylor is totally the type to care. “...When you asked him to marry me.” Oh I knew this proposal was too early in the episode, im dying!

“You need to go man to man.” Ugh Julie i liked Matt’s plan of just going and telling them much better. His look of fear when he repeats “man to man.” dead. 

Wow no theme song??? That’s how you know it’s gonna be a long series finale!

Andddd here we are, a bickering Riggins “I may or may not be going to Alaska.” “Is it because you raw dogged Tyra last night?” i literally gasped.

LMAO Mindy trying to say Tim and Tyra are incest now that Mindy and Billy are married and then Tim and Billy immediately being like “nope, no blood lines, that’s not how incest works.” Someone should send that memo to all those anti bughead stans about bughead and falice

“What do you think about me taking Stevie for the day?” “I’m fine with that. There’s no going back, I’m going to get the bag.” LOL Mindy spoken like a true parent also YES to Tim and Stevie spending time together.

Poor Jess not realizing that asking Eric if she can follow him to the Panthers is a much bigger question than she thinks se’s asking.

AWW Tim and Stevie at Grandma Collette’s. How cute. 

“Seven’s back in town?” “Yeah, he and Julie got engaged!” 

Tim/Tyra and Matt/Julie double date?? Aw I love that Tyra knows that Matt and Julie got engaged. I really love Tyra and Julie’s friendship. 

I’m laughing really hard at Matt’s speech to Eric trying to ask permission. This is so funny. 

Eric’s like, “is this kid serious rn?” 

Not to be that northern bitch but don’t kids get married at 18/19 all the fucking time in Texas?? I feel like it’s more common in even more rural parts of like...any state.

“The answer to your question is gonna be no today, it’s gonna be no tomorrow, and it’s gonna be no until the sun burns out.” LMAO wow i didn’t see this coming

“This was really just a courtesy, we were hoping for your blessing.” YES MATT.

OH BOY Eric did not just try to speak FOR his daughter, im not about it. “My daughter’s answer to you is ‘no.’” That’s some patriarchal shit right there.

“We’ll never know if we’re East Coast people if we don’t try it!” “We have a MUCH BIGGER problem.” Dude, it’s Matt Saracen, the softest boy who has loved your daughter for years, i actually think the fundamental decision of where you and Tami continue your future might be slightly more pressing. 

“I don’t know why you’re yelling at me! I think we agree on this!” IM SCREAMINGGGG 

Aw, Tami getting teary-eyed at Grandma Saracen’s ring. “It’s just, y’all are so young.” I know but this is a TV show universe so we let teen marriage slide for the right couples, ok. 

Tami and Eric wanna take Matt and Julie to A CONVERSATION DINNER??? This is gonna be so funny. 

Aw, Vince got his dad a ticket to state? “I want you to be there.” if this fucker doesn’t just come and shut his mouth

Oh wow Becky’s mom is finally coming back? And yay Becky’s finally over her Tim crush. “So friends?” “I say family.” AWWW MY HEART.

“You guys were our age when you got married.” ARE YOU SERIOUS? “It was a different time.” Y’all have no leg to stand on here.

“Marriage requires maturity.” Says the man who won’t let his wife take a huge job offer. What, who said that? (Okay the way Tami’s watching Eric give this speech about compromise, thinking she’s thinking the same thing.)

“You guys got married when you were my age, and how many times did you move? How many different things you’ve gone through and look how you’ve made it work. You guys are my inspiration.” AW. I wish my parents had a stable enough marriage to be able to say that LOL but nope.

OH NO poor Tami getting up from the table because she’s emotional! Because she’s clearly always thought of her marriage that way too but maybe not lately AH

Eric, babe, that’s your cue to follow. 

Oh shit, Jess’s family is moving to Dallas? Well, damn.

Eric saw Vince not take a ticket for his dad and came to his watering hole to hand deliver it? “Young man gets a chance like that maybe once in a lifetime.” and mic drop, walk away.

Luke casuaklly meeting Becky’s mom for the first time while coming by to try to win Becky back. “I love you. I’m so sorry.” AWWW. growth!

YES cheers to Matt and Julie! “Here’s to Mr. and Mrs. Saracen.”

“Always thought you’d be the first person to say that.” AW

Yes halfway through college, go Tyra!

Awwww, Matt being like “let’s dance” and pulling Julie up. So cute. Yes, Tim asking Tyra to dance. 

“I got plans.” “I don’t.” OMG is Tim saying he’ll just follow Tyra? Damn.

Why tf is Buddy calling Eric first thing in the morning to tell him about Buddy Jr.’s cast and “staying here el permanente” and GETTING HIM TO SIGN A CONTRACT BEFORE THE GAME? Y’all are shady as fuck!

I love that seeing the Braemore papers made him stop, tell Buddy off, and not make a decision in that moment. What’s gonna happen???

“I won’t be a part of your Superteam after all.” Hopefully Eric won’t be either! Aw Jess thanking him “for the greatest experience of his life.” “I think it’s been mine too.” AW.

Eric’s gonna give a coach in Dallas a good word for Jess? So beautiful. Yesss!

AW Julie and Matt decorating the Saracen Christmas tree, and Grandma trying to get Julie to wear her old wedding dress!

Emotional at this hug between Julie and Mrs. Saracen. “I love you.” “I love you too.”

Awww Vince finally being glad that Jess is part of the team...at the moment when it’s about to end.

Yess Tyra and Tim picnicking on the land? 

And YES to Tyra going into politics, I could see it! “Along the lines of Mrs. T. Except bigger.” YES GURL.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was five years old.” AWWW that is so precious. 

“I’m gonna build a house exactly where we’re sitting. I’m gonna get a job. And I’m never gonna do anything illegal for the rest of my life.” Oh, Tim. my heart!!!

“Maybe one day, our dreams can merge together.” THAT’S SO BEAUTIFUL. What more does one really want? Oh, these beautiful life-filled shots of them drinking beer on the land where Tim wants to build a house. Art!

Oh shit, Eric’s racing to get to Santa in time to be there with Tami and Gracie?! “You scared me half to death. What’s going on?” 

“I turned the contract down. It’s your turn. I want to go to Philadelphia. Will you take me to Philadelphia with you, please?” YESSSSSSSSSSSSS what they deserve! What Tami deserves!!!! My heart!!!!

Ugh, the imagery as they get to State is amazing. The boys taking in the field, the players suited up praying and getting in the zone beforehand. The screaming in the stands waiting for them.

“You may never know how proud I am of you.” “You changed my life, coach.” AW.

Eric’s pre-game prayer overlaying the image of the Lions bursting out onto the field! Yes yes yes!

The way they slowed everything down with just music, and focused in on the faces of so many characters - Vince’s dad showing up, Eric and Tami saluting one another from stand to sideline, Becky cheering in the stands excitedly for Luke, Matt and Julie holding each other, Buddy on the sidelines screaming, Vince’s mom jumping up and down - just absolute perfection. 

And we’re back in, with actual in-scene sound at 26-21 with 3 seconds left on the clock??? Jesus!

AH and every single character watching the football fly in the air, WOW the DRAMA.

Holy shit, they fast-forwarded to one of Eric’s players in Philly catching a football eight months later in Philly??? THIS SHOW IS SO GOOD. WOW.

Tami looks like such a badass strutting around campus!

YES Tinker is on the Panthers! Take that, bullying reporter! 

Aw, the East Dillon Lions sign coming down. :( feels.

Nooo Luke don’t go to the military! Noooo I hate that. Poor Becky. They’re the exact type of couple who gets caught up in that really sad cycle - too poor to really have many other options, so the whole “free college when i get out!” thing starts to look really attractive. smh.

But i love how they used the championship ring he gave Becky as a way to signal that the East Dillon Lions did, indeed, win the state championship eight months earlier...and that Jess is wearing the ring on the sidelines of a new field where she’s working with the coaches! amazing!

Yay Matt and Julie live in Matt’s beautiful Chicago apartment? Perfection. They really look so good in that city together. 

New beginnings in a new city together for both Tami and Eric AND Matt and Julie? I’m living! It’s what they deserve!

Tim and Billy building Tim’s house and drinking beers! “Texas forever.” “Texas forever.” MY HEART.

“Clear eyes, full hearts.” SILENCE. “Ah, we’ll deal with that later.” LOL

Yesss Tami coming out to meet Eric on the field!!!

“Ready to go home?” “Yeah, let’s go.”

And the lights go off on the field. End show. AMAZING. Truly, an epic series finale! An epic show! I will definitely rewatch and i am so glad i finally did! Thanks to anyone who gave a shit about my ramblings.

[userarchive]

Unexpected Circumstances Ch 8

Warnings: Language A/N: If this fic was to like, be on screen, Alejandro Martinez would be played by Justin Baldoni, like guy’s a perp, but he’s the King of Manhattan, he’s decked out in suits and drinks classy liquor, he’s a fancy man.

**

Since you and Sonny had come clean there was a lot less tension between you and Amanda, which meant that you were absolutely crushing it at solving cases, Benson was entirely too impressed with the way you worked together. Amanda thankfully didn’t know that you were well aware of her and Sonny’s will they won’t they relationship so there wasn’t any sense of awkwardness. You were quick to help her out one night when Carisi was supposed to help with the girls and cook dinner, she was surprised with not only how much the girls took to you but that your cooking skills were right up on par with your husband’s. A friendship bloomed throughout your partnership and you were happy to know that you had each other’s backs.

You had been at SVU for just over six months when Rollins mentioned she had a sitter ’til later than normal and asked if you wanted to grab a drink, and you enthusiastically agreed, the case you’d been working on was absolutely draining. You had to take the stand that afternoon, coming straight from court, meeting Amanda at the bar. It was early December, your blazer hung over the back of your chair, leaving you clad in a tank top button up and dress skirt, your shield clipped to your waist as you laughed at one of Amanda’s jokes. 

“I still don’t know how you managed to stay under that long, I mean, 7 years?” Amanda shook her head in disbelief,

“Honestly, when I look back on it, it does seem completely insane. It was a lifetime ago I first went under, but it was easier than I thought. We just kept getting busted by the wrong unit, or missing one of the key players,” You rolled your eyes, “The six month breaks were nice at least, kept me grounded.” You took a swig of your cider, “And when it comes to these sex rings, I mean, you have to gain trust, you have to really be deep into it before anyone gives you any information, you give up a lot of your life to do these ops, be happy you never had to.” You stared across the open space of the bar, chugging the last of your drink, signalling to the bartender that you needed another one.

“You ever get caught up in anything bad?” The blonde questioned,

“God no,” You shivered as a gust of wind blew through the room as the door opened. You looked over your shoulder to glance towards the entrance and the goosebumps on your skin were no longer from the cold. “Shit.” You muttered, grabbing your shield, shoving it into Amanda’s hand, “Hide this, and hide yours, please tell me you don’t have your gun.” You eyed your target to her, “Don’t say anything and don’t use my name.” She shoved the shields into her coat pocket, thankful her gun was at home, still having no idea what was going on. 

Amanda watched everything about you change, in the span of a few seconds one hand ripped the pins out of your hair so it could cascade over your shoulders while the other swiftly undid two more buttons on your shirt, exposing the curve of your breasts. You shifted slightly, your skirt riding higher up your bare legs, swinging an elbow over the back of your chair, a sly grin present on your lips as you drank in the man approaching you.

Alejandro Martinez, The King of Manhattan. You’d hoped he hadn’t seen you coming out of the courthouse earlier, but you’d managed to keep your cover so far, not to mention at this point he was completely wrapped around your finger. He smiled down at you, stroking the back of his hand over your cheek.

“Chiquita….” He began, “Glad to see you made it out. Didn’t tattle on me I hope.” You laughed, when you spoke your voice was dropped an octave, husking out into the air of the bar.

“Please Papi, you know I can talk my way out of anything. And why would I throw you under the bus when I can flip on anyone of those pervs they arrest?” The man kissed your cheek gently, lingering longer than Amanda would have liked, you smirked up at him. “What’re you doing here? Working?”

“I should ask you the same question Hermosa,” His eyes flicked over to Rollins, you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“I’m having a drink with my friend.”

“You know…I really missed you, Maldives are much more fun when you around,” He signalled the bartender over, asking for a round of tequila shots for the three of you, which you took willingly, “You’re my queen Rosebud, if you don’t want to come back I’ll have to hire O’Rourke.”

“Declan!” You thrust your hands against his chest, Amanda caught your eye, realizing who you were talking about, “Papi, NO, you can’t have him as part of your team!”

“Carino, he took over for Johnny D, are you saying I can’t trust him?” He quirked an eyebrow,

“I’m simply saying that he’s not good to be in business with, that man is bad news.” Your eyes bore up into his, a pout forming on your lips. “You’ll get your Queen back if he’s nowhere near us. I refuse to work with him, he’s violent, he’s an ass, it’s him or me.” Your voice was stern, Amanda was thinking that there was no way she’d be able to handle herself as well as you were, but, you’d been doing UC ops since you were in the academy, it made sense.

“Okay, okay, I’ll get rid of him” He smirked, pulling a card out of his suit pocket to hand to you, “Call me, Chiquita.” Then he motioned to the bartender, calling that he’d cover your tab, “I hope to hear from you soon.” He stroked your cheek gently, “You know where to find me.” Alejandro gave you a cheeky wink before he sauntered his way out of the bar.

Amanda waited until she was certain the door was shut before she turned to you, noticing you were buttoning back up your shirt while your eyes scanned through the rest of the patrons in the bar.

“Wanna explain to me what just happened?” Her voice was hushed, head close to yours as you shot back the rest of your drink.

“Probably exactly what you think just happened.”  You’d been a little on edge, looking over your shoulder more the last couple of weeks, you knew he was bound to pop up again and you were damn lucky it hadn’t been while you were on duty.

“Martinez?” You nodded, “So we need to go after him! Arrest the son of a bitch!” You huffed, 

“Amanda this is about so much more than just Alejandro! He may be in charge of the ring and hosting the parties but this is about the girls, about the guests, about charging as many people involved as possible while getting the girls to safety! Besides, we don’t have a warrant, we can’t just slap cuffs on him, he’ll end up walking.” You threw on your blazer, grabbing your coat, hand extended out to collect your badge from your partner. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Calling Liv, we’ve got to set up an op, and I’ve gotta get prepped, c’mon!” You were halfway across the room before she even realized, jogging to catch up with you. Outside and once you’d hung up the phone, starting to hail a cab, Amanda spoke again,

“Hey..that comment about Declan…that true, or just ‘cause you don’t want another cop around?” When you turned to her she was surprised to see the expression on your face, your eyes softened, 

“Manda…it’s true, he’s been under so long he got swept up in it all, he’s no longer under, he’s just fucking dirty.” You gave her a hand a sympathy squeeze, “I’m really sorry..” You gave her another sympathetic look as you pulled the door to your cab open, “If he’s on the certificate I’d highly recommend appealing it…” You were gone before she could even process the information, how in the hell did you know about Jessie’s dad?!

***

The call with Benson had been quick, she knew you knew way more about the situation than she did, and understood that you knew what you were doing. She told you to get ready to go back under in two days time, and bring her everything you had to her the following morning. You knew you needed to get home, but this time, you had a stop to make first… You and Sonny were still in the process of moving in together, he couldn’t exactly bail on his lease without consequences, but he knew you were going out with Rollins that night, and had returned to his place to continue to pack up his things.

Sonny padded over to his apartment door as the knocking grew more insistent, pulling open the door he was surprised to find you on the other side.

“Soph? I thought you were out with Rollins tonight?” 

“I was…can I come in?” 

“Yeah, course.” He moved back to let you into the entrance, closing the door behind you, “Everythin’ okay?” You sighed,

“Martinez showed up.” Sonny face scrunched, 

“Like, on the radar?”

“No. At the bar where Amanda and I were.”

“Did your cover get blown?” 

“No, but Sonny, I’m going back under on Thursday…figured I could give you a fair warning this time.” You noticed the way his face fell, “I’m sorry…” His lanky arms reached out to you, tugging you into a tight hug as he kissed your head.

“Doll, don’t be. Timing sucks but ya’ve gotta do your job. We knew this would happen.” He pulled away slightly, looking down at you with the most adorable puppy dog eyes he could muster, “Can you stay?”

“No..” You breathed out, “I’ve got to get a case file ready for Benson and start getting things packed.” You huffed when he pouted in response, rolling your eyes at him, “Grab a change of clothes, you can come to my place.” Sonny was gleeful at that, neither of you had any idea how long you’d end up being undercover, you could never really tell with things like this, and the last thing he wanted was to spend your remaining days on the surface separated.

[weshallc]

BERNS NIGHT (Revisited) 

Call the Midwife AU Crown Jewels fic (this one actually has Bernie in! She must have been in panto or something in January missed a few chapters)

CHAPTER FOUR: There In Thy Scanty Mantle Clad.

“There, in Thy Scanty Mantle Clad, Thy Snawie Bosom Sunward Spread.” To a Mountain Daisy by Robert Burns 1786

"I Hear Your Footsteps in the Streets, it Won't Be Long Until We Meet. It's Obvious." Oblivious by Aztec Camera 1983

 “Ouch, be careful!”

“Well stand still, Paddy,” Trixie scolded, “and I won’t accidentally prick you.”

“Is this really necessary?” whined the publican, not for the first time that hour.

“You want it the right length, don’t you?” admonished the determined dressmaker.

“That’s too short.” Paddy grumbled, swaying unsteadily on the rickety foot stool.

“No, it’s not.”

Patsy interrupted the squabbling confirming the kilt should hang from the top of the hip and finish at the top of the knee.

“This one is too high.” Paddy fiddled with the waistband.

“No, it’s not! It sits at the navel.” Getting up from her knees, Trixie playfully poked Paddy in the belly button.

The temporary male model wasn’t amused, and Delia felt some sympathy. “Right Doc, take it off now, so Chummy can alter it.”

Paddy hopped off the footstool, the green and blue checked woollen garment swaying around his thighs. He grabbed his jeans and headed out of Patsy’s studio towards the downstairs loo. Patsy, Delia and Trixie didn’t wait until he had closed the door behind him before they burst into giggles.

 Saturday 25th January 2020

Bernie wouldn’t want anyone to accuse her of being ungrateful, but she would have much rather spent her birthday at work. To be back in Poplar-on-Tweaven working behind the bar with Paddy rather than traipsing around Newcastle city centre with Trixie.

Saturday’s were usually fun at the Crown. Sundays you could always predict to be busy, due to the temptation of Violet’s Sunday lunches and the let’s have a nice day in the country crowd. Saturday’s were more unpredictable a lot depending on whether there was a match on. The football crowd had made Bernie nervous at first, but she had taken her lead from Val, who seemed to know the right mix between flirting and being one of the lads. She even surprised herself with her knowledge of the offside-rule and recognising a few players when they came in during the off-season.

“So, what about this one?” Trixie’s irritated voice broke through Bernie’s wistfulness. They were standing in Fenwick’s department store. Her friend was holding up a black mini dress bearing a large faint gold and red criss-cross pattern.

“Isn’t it a bit tartanie?” Bernie screwed up her nose.

Trixie tried very hard not to give anything away. “What’s wrong with tartan, your Scottish, don’t you just love tartan?”

Bernie bit her lip and tried to keep a level of calmness in her voice, “I am not that kinda Scottish.”

Trixie clanged the hanger back onto the rail in frustration. Bernie felt a twinge of guilt for exasperating her well-meaning friend.

“I will probably just wear my good jeans and a sparkly top, Trixie.” Bernie tried to reassure, with little success.

“But, Paddy is taking you out somewhere nice tonight, surely you want to look the part?”

Bernie took a deep breath, “The part?...the part of Paddy’s date! I am thinking jeans and a nice wee top will do just fine, Trixie.”

 It was several hours later, Bernie was looking at herself in the oak Cheval mirror in the corner of her bedroom. The little black dress with the red and gold criss-crosses did look quite nice on and it did have pockets, so that was a bonus. She heaved up her 40 denier black tights one last time. Why did they never make the small, small enough? She smiled, knowing if Chummy were in the room she would ask why they didn’t make extra large, extra enough.

A frown reflected back at her as she fiddled with her hair. Trixie had insisted on styling it with a mountain of product she had brought back from Boots. As a result, it now seemed to flick out in all directions. The would-be stylist had been very pleased with the finished article, and Bernie had smiled and made positive noises. She really wanted to put a brush through it and tie it back in a scrunchie like she did most days. Trixie’s sixth sense clicked in and she growled, “Leave it.”

They set out, tottering the short distance from Bernie’s cottage to the Crown Inn. Arm-in-arm, more for stability than out of friendship. Trixie in nine months of living just outside of Poplar had still not mastered walking on cobbles in heels. Bernie more used to ankle boots and trainers had let Trixie talk her into buying a pair of black below-the-knee boots in the January sales. Until today, the labels hadn’t been removed. She was convinced the young saleswoman and her friend had been in collusion. Eventually the overwhelming smell of leather, shoe polish and sweaty feet on an empty stomach had rendered the usually stubborn Bernie vulnerable. Well-honed sales techniques and Trixie’s promise of a Greggs’ vegan sausage roll to offset the purchase of leather eventually triumphed. These boots were definitely not made for walking, Bernie decided. She was however glad of the extra fabric as the north wind whistled around her shorter than usual hem line.

As if sensing her friend's awkwardness, Trixie squeezed her arm a little more tightly. “You look amazing, just don’t scuff those killer, fuck-me boots on the cobbles.”

This warning unsurprisingly had the opposite effect than intended, as Bernie stuttered to an abrupt halt and dropped her friend's arm.

“What?” Bernie shrieked in horror. Trixie grabbed back hold of her stabilizer and dragged her along, laughing so infectiously that Bernie couldn’t help but succumb.

“Why are you so tarted up anyway for a night in the Crown?”

“It’s your birthday and I thought you would be having a drink before heading off with Paddy. Just because it is a country pub doesn’t mean everyone has to always wear wellies and a jumper with a hole in it.”

Bernie’s mock indignation at Trixie’s jibe resulted in a snort as she tried to hold in a laugh. They were still sniggering as Trixie lunged forward and steadied herself by slapping her hand heavily against the inn’s bay window. She pulled herself up and then slapped her hand against the window one more time. Bernie, who was still giggling, just shrugged at her friend's clumsy behaviour.

“Bit slippy there, have to tell Paddy about that.” Trixie straightened up and smiled nervously.

“OK.” Bernie nodded somewhat bemused as she pushed open the large wooden doors of the old inn.

 Bernie later couldn’t recall if it was her eyes that first alerted her that something was different; the darkness giving the game away. Or it could have been her ears as they picked up the deep drone of the bagpipes. Maybe it was neither. Her skin tingling with goosebumps was more than likely the first sign that all was not as it should be.

After that initial physical reaction, her mind seemed to give up trying to make any sense of anything. It all became a blur. She remembered Trixie pushing her in the back and into the bar and placing something around her shoulders. There had definitely been cheering and then a very tuneless rendition of Happy Birthday accompanied by the bagpipes and a small band.

The pipes - bashful Kevin and his wee dog. At first she had thought Paddy or somebody had bought her a pet for her birthday. The poor wee thing was used to sitting and looking cute outside the town hall. Raising a paw every time someone dropped a coin in Kev’s mug. The animal had become a little overwhelmed by the commotion and sheer volume of people. Realizing that the lady who had just come through the door must be somehow responsible for the change in ambience; he could not resist jumping up at the new arrival with great enthusiasm. His owner was horrified, but unsure what was more important; to reprimand his charge or keep playing. Fortunately, the situation was resolved when a large pair of hands gently scooped up the tiny mongrel and calmed him down by whispering in his ear and letting him lick his face.

Bernie remembered Violet telling Reggie to take the excited guest through the back for a biscuit. The commotion had given Bernie time to take it all in, the low lighting, the table centres made up of thistles and blue and purple hyacinths, each with a thick white candle, flames dancing a jig on every table. The black, royal blue and red tartan tablecloths and a larger trestle table covered with a different checked pattern, a lighter blue and green with gold.

Bernie wasn’t given long to take it all in, as she was overwhelmed by hugs and kisses. Mostly from people she knew like the Noakes’, Fred, Jane, Phyllis and Julia along with a few she didn’t know, which was a bit disconcerting. Along with the displays of affection, cards and packages that were also pressed into her. Finding it very difficult to accept all the hugs from her friends and free herself from those who weren’t, Bernie found it impossible to balance all the gifts too. Fortunately Trixie had been prepared for this and took on the role of a lady-in-waiting, as if Bernie had suddenly been crowned the Princess of Poplar. The village's newest resident relished her role as best friend, relieving Bernie of her burdens as swiftly as she received them. Trixie may have had a colourful life, but she did like to be of use.

It was Val who finally rescued her from the wall of wellwishers. Taking Bernie by the hand, she took her behind the bar and up the stairs to the living accommodation. “Are you ready for your present?”

Exasperated by the recent unexpected events and not knowing what to expect next, Bernie just shrugged her shoulders. Secretly she was enjoying the calm of the Turner flat and not being the centre of attention. Val gave her a quick squeeze and told her, “Happy birthday, chick.” Opening the door to Paddy’s living room she added winking,

“You’re welcome.”

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

I was just thinking about the villains that I obsess over, and how I would rank them in terms of morality, because I think a lot of my faves are the “not so bad” guys that sometimes show a little potential for goodness (but are still basically jerks).  And then there’s Maximus who is just a chaotic asshole. 

But if I was going to rank from best (as in nicest) to worst (most evil), it would go like this:

Pied Piper/Hartley Rathaway: Angry nerd musician, uses mind control and sonic waves to commit robberies.  Born into a wealthy but abusive family, he later becomes concerned with issues of poverty and social justice, and starts helping the homeless.  The one Flash rogue who has reformed and stayed reformed, he was even close friends with Wally West in the 90′s. (I so miss this friendship and wish DC would let them interact again.)  Tries to kill Flash during the Silver Age (all the Rogues did), but to my knowledge has not murdered anyone in his crimes.  (He did kill Desaad and blow up Apokolips during Countdown, but Desaad had it coming.)  Given that he’s been reformed for years, I think it’s an absolute waste that he’s never gotten onto some kind of Justice League auxiliary team or something.  Put the boy on a team book, he’s got potential!

Trickster/James Jesse: Wacky bank robber and con man who enjoys the thrill of tricking people more than he really cares about the money.  Over-dramatic little shit who sometimes acts like a smooth con man and sometimes acts like a cartoon character, often in the same comic.  Is good friend with Hartley (or at least he used to be, but I think their friendship has fallen into the DC continuity garbage pit).  Tried to kill Flash during the Silver Age, but to my knowledge has not murdered anyone.  He did push his parents off a building in the his latest arc, but Flash saved them.  He’s a selfish jerk who is capable of goodness occasionally and flirted with the idea of reform, but much less sincerely than Hartley.  I’m kinda protective of him because I’m afraid DC will push him in a dark direction to match the CW version, who is Doing Trickster Wrong.  Like, it’s okay to just let him be silly bank robber, they don’t all have to be edgy.

Pyro/St. John Allerdyce: Punch clock villain - always the lackey, never the leader, small time evil.  I think he’s similar to Avalanche and Blob in that he’s basically an ammoral, selfish mercenary type.  He looks out for number one first.  He’s definitely killed people, and probably enjoys burning things a little too much.  I don’t think he necessarily gets his jollies from killing at random (like he’s not a serial killer type), but if you meet him on the battlefield he’s gonna be a nasty, vicious piece of shit.  He’s actually kinda affable evil - if you meet him at a bar, he’ll probably just hang out and drink with you.  He seems to bond with his team-mates, and has been a pretty good team-player in Marauders (even referring to them as his friends last issue).  He also seemed to regret his past actions when he was dying of the Legacy Virus, and tried to make up for it by saving Senator Kelley.  Now he’s back to partying and burning things in Marauders, but at least he seems to be on the X-Men’s side now? 

Riddler/Edward Nygma: I actually think he doesn’t really enjoy killing, but I rank him worse than Pyro because he’s arguably caused more damage over the years.  Riddler is determined to show up Batman and prove that he is the bestest, smartest boy in all the world, and he doesn’t care who gets hurt in the process.  He kills people mostly as pawns and side casualties - if they weren’t smart enough to escape (or Batman didn’t save them quickly enough), hey, that’s not his fault, right?  Depending on the writer, he can range from a silly, slightly pathetic villain with a goofy schtick to a cold-hearted, terrifying criminal mastermind.  He reformed briefly and worked as a detective while he had amnesia, but went back to crime again pretty quickly.  I like the idea of PI Riddler, trying to show up Batman through legal means, competing not as criminal vs. detective, but as two fellow detectives.  I wish we’d gotten more PI Riddler, but oh well.

Maximus: Okay, this dude is just the worst.  Sometimes claims to be doing things “for the good of the Inhuman people,” but he’s generally just wrecking shit for his own selfish purposes or because he wants to cause chaos and tear everything down.  I can have a little sympathy for him for his obvious mental illness, and because he grew up in a pretty dysfunctional family/society, but he’s still pretty terrible.  And I generally don’t consider the mental illness to be a reason for his villainy - like, he’s a villain who happens to be mentally ill, not a villain because of his mental illness.  He’s caused plenty of death in his uprisings, generally treats people like disposable pawns, and is willing to sell out his people to the Kree if it means he gets to rule.  Sometimes he works with his family against a common threat as the token evil team-mate (and I generally enjoy him most in this role), but he’s always got his own agenda.  The closest he came to a redemption arc was probably when the saw his own horrible future in Royals, and seemed genuinely distressed at what befell the Inhuman people.  He’s a lot of fun, though.  Snarky, hilarious, chaotic, and utterly brilliant.  He can be the mad scientist or the manipulative political advisor, or both depending on the story.  I just want him to build giant robots and wreck things. 

Honorable mention: Loki.  I don’t even know where to rank him.  He used to be a monster on par with Maximus, Doom or old-school Magneto, now he’s a sarcastic, angsty hipster that pops up to annoy Thor or help Thor in an annoying way.  He’s fun! 

Second honorable mention: Fabian Cortez.  In terms of intentions, he’s really just as bad, or maybe even worse than Maximus.  But since his debut in the 90′s, he’s gone through so many stages of villain decay that now he’s basically the X-Men/Quicksilver’s Team Rocket.  Not even remotely a threat, and probably gonna get his ass kicked quickly.  For that, I might put him somewhere between Riddler and Pyro, or between Riddler and Maximus.  He’s hilarious, and I love him.

Obviously, this list is entirely subjective and my own opinion.  People are free to disagree about where people belong on the list.  There’s probably not much point in ranking comic characters this way, given that any of them can get pushed in darker directions or towards redemptive arcs based on writers, and many comic characters have committed atrocities that have gotten swept under the rug.  There’s also the question of motive vs. actions - is Fabian really less bad because he’s incompetent?  Who knows?  This is just something I was thinking about, and wanted to write out in terms of my faves.   

[shadeops21]

Give Me A Fandom Meme: Ace Combat

Oh my god Smash! Really have to make me work for this one! I hope you’re ready for a lot of pictures and gifs as my responses.

Btw, I’ll only be specifying non-player characters, as Ace Combat is a type of game that makes you the main character of sorts (no info past call sign and maybe gender from dialogue). Also gonna put it under a Keep Reading because this is gonna be loooonnnggg.

Favourite Male Character:

Outside of the player character Aces from all of the titles, I have to give this to AWACS Ghost Eye from AC6: Fires of Liberation. An AWACS controller who legitimately cares for the forces under his command, is willing to crack a joke with them, yet also doesn’t hesitate to pull them up when they’ve fucked up.

Favourite Female Character:

Sadly, there aren’t that many female characters in the series as a whole, both as pilots and background characters, compared to the male cast. This is probably because there just aren’t that many female fighter pilots in the real world, and the game reflects this as well.

That said, the female characters that do exist aren’t pushovers in any way, shape, or form. Húxiān (AC7) is a fiercesome and aggressive pilot, both in the skies and on the ground. Melissa (AC6) goes through hell and back to reunite with her daughter in the midst of an invasion of her homeland.

My favourite has to go to Kei “Edge” Nagase, of AC5: The Unsung War, though. Loyal, dedicated, fierce, yet still retains that idealistic nature often lost in veteran pilots. I could go on and on as to why I love this character, but I’d run out of space.

Least Favourite Character:

I don’t exactly have a least favourite character, because I developed a sympathy towards the majority of “enemy” characters despite the fact that they are fighting against you.

If I had to pick, though, I would have to go towards Col Orson Perrault (AC5), the base command of Sand Island AFB. Dude’s a pompous asshole who shouldn’t be an Officer, let alone the OADF.

Favourite Ship:

There’s not much to ship in this game (at least for me), because there’s no real premise for shipping. The most common that I’ve seen are Blaze x Edge (AC5 pairing between the player character Blaze and Edge, mentioned above), Talisman x Melissa (AC6, between the player’s wingman and the civilian Melissa Hermann, though that ship is born out of tragedy mostly), and Count x Húxiān (two wingmen of the player who start out as hostile to each other and across the game grow to see each other as good friends).

I’d have to pick the Blaze x Edge ship, because I just like the dynamic of the two pilots growing close to each other after fighting a long and hard war, only able to really depend on themselves and nobody else.

Favourite Friendship:

Count x Húxiān. They did not like each other when Trigger and Count transferred from Spare into the LRSSG’s Strider and Cyclops Squadrons. The pair traded barbs with each other in almost every mission at the start but they slowly grew to appreciate each other, befriend each other. It’s the non-romantic “enemies to lovers” trope, which I am a sucker for.

Favorite Quote:

I think what Ghost Eye says at the end of AC6 is one of my favourite quotes from the series. I’ll let the pictures do the talking:

Worst Character Death:

This is a tie, between Chopper’s sacrifice in AC5 and Brownie’s death in AC7, for different reasons.

Brownie is an NPC wingman introduced in the first mission of AC7 as a member of the friendly Golem Squadron. At the end of Mission 3, “Operation Dual Wielder”, Mage, Golem, and Gargoyle SQN’s retreat from the first Arsenal Bird after the entirety of Skeleton SQN was shot down.

By this point in the mission, she’d already taken a missile hit and was being escorted back by Gargoyle 1, but the pair were engaged by a then-unidentified Sol 1. Gargoyle 1 was quickly shot down, but Sol 1 toyed with Brownie, driving her to a near-mental breakdown before downing her and escaping...

Just hearing her voice and composure falter with every radio call... it broke my heart...

As for Chopper...

After a long string of successful defensive and offensive missions, Wardog SQN are tasked with a ceremonial flight for a pro-war rally deep within your home territory (although your aircraft remain armed due to wartime).

After the flight, the stadium that the rally is being held in comes under enemy air attack, and Wardog snaps into defensive posture and pushes back the waves of enemy aircraft. However, radios become jammed and another squadron radios in to say “hell of a drill they’re running, return to base”.

While your AWACS tries to reorganise the reinforcement aircraft, Chopper takes a hit from an enemy aircraft. He continues to fight and fly, trying to keep his jet from crashing into the homes below. However, once the airspace is cleared and everything seems okay, Chopper announces that the damage to his aircraft has worsened to the point where he cannot eject...

Despite everyone’s pleas, Chopper simply says:

And then:

And then more enemy aircraft arrive! You play through the final wave listening to nothing but the choked sobs of your other wingmen before the enemy opt to finally give up the attack and retreat.

The mission ends with this:

... and this...

(The F-16′s fly a ‘missing man’ flypast, reserved for funeral flypasts. The one aircraft breaking away from the others signifies the ‘departure’ of the person being laid to rest...)

I still get emotional from this sequence, even after playing through the game countless times. I think it’s because you aren’t expecting this kind of gut punch, especially this late into the game. By this point, you’ve flown sixteen missions in the campaign, each between ten to fifteen minutes a piece, plus cutscenes. I grew really attached to the entire squadron, and for one of them to die like this? It nearly broke me.

“This made me so happy you have no idea!” Moment:

Twelve years after the latest numbered release to the series (AC6: Fires Of Liberation was released in 2007), I sat down the night of the 18 of Janurary, 2019.

It took me a lot of effort not to cry when this sequence started up...

undefined

Saddest Moment:

See ‘Worst Character Death’, sub-section ‘Chopper’.

Favorite Location:

This is really hard, as a lot of the terrains and maps in the PS2 games aren’t excessively detailed or picturesque. It wasn’t until AC6 (Xbox 360) that we got higher quality terrains, and then with AC7 we’ve got top of the line terrains.

Though, out of pure sentimentality, I’d have to go with Sand Island Air Force Base from AC5. The home base for the 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron “Wardog”, 5th Air Wing, Osean Air Defense Force, off the western peninsula of the Osean continent.

It’s a remote airfield out in the Ceres Ocean, and the field is primarily used for pilot training due to the wide open space it provides, as well as serving as a ‘last stop’ for military flights headed eastbound to Yuktobania.

The island and it’s layout takes inspiration from the real world Midway Atoll and the airfields that were established there during WW2, which is a cool little fact too...

[fontainebleau22]

Box of Frogs (Part 7)

From @tramstrams‘ not-at-all-serious prompt, ‘an AU with magic, but something has gone terribly awry and people are being turned into frogs. Only Sam Chisolm can stop this madness’.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here. Part 4 here. Part 5 here. Part 6 here.

---

‘What about your jobs?’ asked Emma. ‘Wasn’t there trouble about the time you’d missed?’

For a group of men who’d spent a week as frogs they seemed surprisingly unresentful, yet a residual guilt kept her prodding at the topic. On a golden afternoon like this, though, it seemed difficult for anyone to hold a grudge: the park was busy with sunbathers, frisbee-players, and old ladies sitting primly on benches gossiping with the pigeons.

They’d found a secluded spot under the trees where they could sprawl out on the grass: Red was setting up a barbecue while Jack unpacked an apparently bottomless cooler of food, and to Emma’s relief Gavin had ignored the promise of sausages and lolloped off to join in chasing the frisbee.

Faraday shrugged cheerfully. ‘Boss was pissed off I hadn’t turned up for a week, but just happened they’d had a big order come in that morning that he needs me to deal with, so it all worked out OK.’

Ale stretched lazily with just the smallest of sparkles to draw attention to the shift of his muscles. ‘Maria started shouting when I showed up at the cafe, but I smiled at her some and next thing she was feeding me blueberry pie to make up for all the crickets.’

Billy cracked one eye open from where he was lying with his head in Goodnight’s lap. ‘I just told them I was back and they should pay me for the break.’

The week since she’d met them all in such inauspicious circumstances had been like being picked up by a tornado, but in a good way: from that strange first evening when Josh had led them charging out to celebrate being human again, this ill-assorted group had adopted her into effortless friendship, filling her empty days with argument and activity and anchoring her again in the here-and-now.

Billy shifted a little, squinting against the sun in his eyes. ‘Teddy, could you?’ Goody asked at once. Teddy leaned over to lay a hand on the trunk and concentrated: the tree obligingly rearranged its branches to shade Billy’s face. ‘Better, cher?’ asked Goody solicitously.

Ale tsked disapprovingly. ‘He was just the same when you were a frog: humidity this, fruit flies that, is the heat lamp strong enough...’

‘Goody always takes care of me,’ said Billy with smug satisfaction.

‘Only the best for you, sweetheart,’ agreed Goody, stroking his hair. ‘Though I hope they’ll give me a refund on the equipment.’

‘I saw the size of his tank, with all those leaves and the little stream and everything,’ groused Faraday. ‘Mine don’t look much in comparison. You could’ve put more effort in.’

Ale batted at him, irritated. ‘I don’t know what you’re complaining about – I looked after you perfectly well.’

‘I was a frog the longest,’ declared Josh with a perverse pride. ‘What if I’d dried out? You could have got me one of those fancy misting sprays.’

‘Guero, I swear…’ Ale lunged up to tackle him, sending the two of them rolling on the grass; at that precise moment the Frisbee came zipping in, skimmed harmlessly over Josh’s head and bounced off Sam’s ear.

‘Damnation,’ said Sam resignedly; Gavin raced up, grabbed the frisbee and charged off again.

Ale had Josh pinned, knees on his shoulders, grinning as he squirmed. ‘I got in the tank with you, ingrato – did Goody do that?’

‘Not for lack of trying,’ said Sam, shuffling over to let Goody run a hand over his rapidly-rising bump.

Emma let the good-natured bickering fade into the background, closing her eyes to appreciate the warmth of the sun on her face, the rustling breeze in the branches above and the sound of distant excited barks.

Her grief was always with her, the sense of absence at her side a constant, but now as well there were Jack and Goody, gentlemanly and courteous, Teddy and Red with their shy smiles, Josh and Ale with jokes to distract her. You’d have liked them, she told Matthew silently. She opened her eyes again to Sam’s concerned gaze, and when she smiled he came to settle beside her on the plaid rug in wordless sympathy.

‘You know he kissed you to see if it would turn you back?’ Teddy was asking Billy.

‘Billy is attractive in every form,’ declared Goody, unabashed.

‘Oh, please.’ Josh pulled a face.

‘If anyone was a handsome frog,’ asserted Ale, ‘it was me.’

Teddy snorted. ‘You? You were just a green blob.’ Ale choked in outrage and Teddy smirked. ‘You had no neck.’

‘I have to say that Teddy’s right,’ agreed Goodnight, ‘you were a singularly unattractive frog. Plain as anything.’

‘Josh didn’t think so,’ said Ale, nettled.

Goodnight sat up straight and fixed them both with a severe gaze. ‘Do you have any idea what it was like once I put you in the tank with him? It was worse than the Discovery Channel – I was going to buy a screen.’

Gavin came galloping back to collapse panting at Emma’s side, and she buried a hand in his fur. Red appeared silently with a bowl of water which he placed in front of him, and Emma nodded her thanks as Gavin slurped enthusiastically at it. ‘You might want to be careful with the meat...’

They both looked over to Jack, pulling a string of sausages from his cooler. ‘No need to worry,’ he called heartily: he arranged the sausages precisely on the grill, then handed the tongs to Red and squatted down to scrub fearlessly through Gavin’s fur. Gavin writhed in delight. ‘We understand each other, don’t we?’ cooed Jack, and Emma stifled a stab of amusement at the similarity between the burly high-voiced man and her sofa cushion of a dog.

‘I hope you weren’t too inconvenienced by being…’

‘…a bullfrog?’ Jack beamed. ‘I found the whole experience quite refreshing, and Goodnight kept me out of harm’s way. He raised himself a little and put a hand to his chest formally. ‘Your hospitality was much appreciated, Goody.’

Goodnight looked pleased, though slightly puzzled. ‘I’m not sure I’d call a week in my bathtub hospitality, but you’re very welcome.’

‘Look,’ said Billy suddenly, ‘isn’t that Mrs McCann?’

Emma craned round and there indeed was Thelma, strolling along the footpath in the company of a tall ginger-haired man in a well-cut suit.

‘Is that her husband?’ Ale sounded incredulous and Emma couldn’t contain a giggle. 

‘No.’ They watched as the man drew Thelma to a halt in front of a rosebush; he reached out a hand theatrically and it burst into flower, the buds swelling and opening to full bloom.

‘Nice work,’ approved Teddy. The man picked one and offered it to Thelma with a flourish; she took it, eyes lowered coyly.

‘I did go over there and offer to turn Thomas back,’ said Emma thoughtfully, ‘but she said it might be best to wait a while.’ Ale nodded understandingly and they watched the pair of them wander away.

‘Though if you’re still game for some frogging…’ Emma turned to Josh warily, but winked, unabashed. ‘This oily little guy’s started hanging round the cafe, Bogue he calls himself, and Maria thinks he’s working to undercut her franchise: maybe you could come and have a look at him?’

‘You can’t solve every problem with frogs,’ said Emma primly, aware of Sam raising his eyebrows beside her, but Ale grinned brightly. ‘I think this is one you can.’

Calm had finally settled, everyone relaxed in the sun as the scent of browning meat drifted appetisingly on the air; Billy and Goody laughed low together and Gavin’s tail thumped lazily.

A striped balloon came bouncing over the grass towards Ale, its string trailing, chased by a small girl in dungarees. ‘Here, mija,’ said Ale obligingly, reaching for the string.

‘No!’ shouted the girl, skidding to a halt; Ale had already plucked the balloon from the air and made to hold it out to her, but as he did so his arm jerked up and he started to rise from the ground, tugged smoothly upwards. ‘What the…!’ 

‘Let go, quick,’ pleaded the girl; Ale, already at head height, looked down in consternation.

‘Your face!’ cackled Josh gleefully.

‘Don’t just stand there, grab his feet!’ Teddy jumped, but Ale had drifted beyond his reach.  

Emma turned to Sam. ‘Aren’t you going to do anything?’

‘Nope,’ said Sam contentedly, settling his hat over his eyes.

‘These things have a habit of working out on their own,’ Goodnight assured her, Billy still comfortable in his lap.

‘How high is he likely to go, miss?’ Jack asked the girl, and she shrugged helplessly. ‘Heavy people go up faster’n me.’

‘Red?’ asked Jack, and there was a flutter of feathers as his companion launched himself upwards. ‘He can puncture it with his talons, let him down gently.’

‘Noo!’ the girl’s wail of protest faded as she raced off after Red, waving her arms.  

‘Wait till you’re over the trees and then let go,’ called Teddy as he and Josh followed the ever-rising Ale across the meadow.

‘Or see if you can drift over the lake,’ offered Josh, earning a faint, ‘Pendejo’ in return.

Emma hesitated. Should she follow? Turning Ale back to a frog could hardly help at this stage, and no one else seemed worried; Jack was once more clattering industriously at the grill.

‘Hey, Sam,’ added Goodnight idly, ‘how was your thing? Never did get the chance to ask about it.’

‘Good,’ said Sam from underneath his hat, ‘always worth it.’

‘Never heard you say different,’ approved Goodnight. He settled himself more comfortably against his treetrunk.

‘And you?’ asked Emma. ‘You had the hardest week of anyone…’ The thought of how distraught he’d been still brought a pang, but Goodnight cut her off with a flashing grin.

‘I’m fine – we all are.’

 ‘Well, not Ale right at this moment,’ interposed Sam cheerfully. From the corner of her eye Emma could see a small crowd beginning to gather, shouting advice and holding outspread blankets.

She turned back to Goodnight. ‘Truly?’

Goodnight looked down fondly at Billy, dozing in his lap, then winked at her. ‘Fine as a frog’s hair split four ways.’

---

[lafeae]

Prompt: Broken Nose

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!

Characters: Kaiba Seto, Jounouchi Katsuya/Joey Wheeler

For: @badthingshappenbingo

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

When Jounouchi got home after the sunset, the laundry wasn’t done. A single light made it cast a long shadow in the living room, still laying in the middle of the floor where he left it.

Sighing, he began to pick up the pieces of the bowl still scattered in the doorway, and wondered briefly if he should try and patch the hole in the wall. Why bother. The place was old and moth eaten anyways.

The apartment was still and quiet, save for the hum of the neighbour’s window air conditioner. He could almost imagine it being cool as he peeled his work uniform from his skin and laid down on the futon.

“Shoulda bought the fan...”he murmured, but at least his stomach was full. The food won him over. Besides, it was hard to concentrate on anything: the heat, his stomach, sleep, or the blank period of time he spent lying in bed thumbing through textbooks and cramming for exams he was fairly confident he wasn’t going to pass. That was just the nature of his operation; he was better suited for a factory job, or being a professional Magic and Wizards player.

Not even that daydream could escape the fact that Kaiba was on the brain. Specifically, how to talk to Kaiba, other than their annoying passing remarks. They sat next to each other—they didn’t have to pass notes.

Where the hell did he start?

‘Oi, Kaiba, your dad as messed up as mine?’ No, too forward.

‘So, guess workin’ guys got to stick together!’ Yeah right.

Maybe something a little less focused. Just a ‘hey’ and a ‘what’s up’.

All too informal for moneybags, but all they had to bond over was the shirt and their shared forbidden zone. Not really typical, or light, topics of conversation.

He dozed off mid-muse, with Kaiba heavy on the brain.

—

For once, Jounouchi slipped into class just on time, nodding and waving to Honda and Yuugi as he sat down.

He laid out his book and pen knowing full well his face would be in its spine before long. Before he had the chance, Kaiba remarked:

“You do know what time class starts.”

“Miracles happen.”

“Hn.”

There was brief moment that Jounouchi thought that he and the prick—was he really a prick anymore?—could have a dialogue. It was easy if Kaiba started it, too, because Jounouchi could never tell when Kaiba was willing to talk, even if he was being hateful or quippy. The man had the emotional range of a hard boiled egg, and the boredom in his eyes showed. For being a good student, Jounouchi highly suspected that absolutely nothing was being learned, given how Kaiba rarely turned the pages or wrote things down. The brief moment was lost as soon as it started.

“So uh, what’s the detergent you used on the shirt?”

Kaiba side-eyed him and sneered. Yeah, that was a glorious way to start a conversation.

Getting Kaiba to talk probably wasn’t going to happen.

That didn’t stop Jounouchi. He was nothing if not persistent and hard-headed. He figured as long as Kaiba didn’t deny him outright, or make threats, all conversations were fair game. The executive had invited him back to estate, even if it was just to deliver laundry which he swore he would do. He would have to.

His efforts were usually between classes, waiting for the next teacher to arrive, and while they were small, he found that asking less specific questions garnered more responses. Nothing too cerebral.

“So why ya bring your laptop everyday?”

“Work.”

“Well, yeah. But whatcha gettin’ done at lunch that can’t wait like, three hours?”

“International companies don’t sleep,” Kaiba explained. Jounouchi’s mouth formed an ‘o’, and he nodded in semi-understanding, though he was almost more grateful that Kaiba replied at all. Somewhere in the back of his head he thought it was because, maybe, they were talking about Kaiba. A selfish topic for a selfish teenager. But for this experiment, he knew he couldn’t think that way. The clean shirt he had tucked into his trousers said Kaiba was capable of altruism somewhere, under the right circumstances.

“Do you sleep?” Jounouchi asked.

“Enough.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jounouchi replied, laughing nervously. When Kaiba looked his way, he rubbed the back of his neck and ruffled his hair. “Sometimes I get off at like, I dunno, 9 or 10. Which isn’t bad. Ride home’s like a half-hour, but then Wakuba-sensai always gives us long lit essays an’ I jus’,” he let his lips loosely flap, imitating snoring while still chuckling to himself. His knees were knocking together between the desk, only stopped by one foot stepping on top of the other. “Ya know?”

“No.”

Kaiba was staring again. Not just Kaiba, but the range of other students a that encircled them. The classroom had gone deathly quiet, and Jounouchi flattened against his desk.

“The hell ya all starin’ at!” Jounouchi shouted.

They turned away. Kaiba was back to leaning on his fist and looking bored to his notebook, but Jounouchi was sure he caught a quick glance and small smile.

—

It was wash, rinse, repeat for five days. All of Jounouchi’s attempts between class were small. Simple conversation on sometimes ridiculous topics, because there was something fascinating about Kaiba’s face screwing in confusion.

Kaiba had a face full of childish wonder. When he wasn’t brooding or bored or focused, he retained an innocent look; wide eyes, long cheeks in his quickly hidden slackjaw, and a cute (Jounouchi couldn’t find a better word) nose that would turn red as he tried to decipher what gibberish Jounouchi had spouted.

For the life of him, Jounouchi couldn’t decide what he was doing that was any different from Yuugi’s attempts at befriending Kaiba. Maybe because he wasn’t so much befriending Kaiba as much as he was being curious. It wasn’t like Kaiba was always open. Most questions were shot down with acerbic comments or flat-out ignored; it just took the right ones, the off-guard ones, that by no means said Jounouchi was really interested in friendship, because he wasn’t. He was more or less interested in cracking the Kaiba Seto code. Friendship, whatever that meant to Kaiba, would have been accidental by-product and probably unspoken or denied.

Which meant it was easier not to get his friends involved.

Yuugi would have been gung-ho to allow Kaiba into their group at lunch, which Jounouchi had considered plenty of times as he stumbled to his seat. But it wasn’t really Yuugi. It was Anzu and her little comments of being “creeped out” by Kaiba’s stares at Jounouchi, or Honda’s egging to just go up to Kaiba and do something about the intimidating stares, or Ryou’s comments muttered into his thighs.

Still, he considered it every day.

“Yo, moneybags,” he called as he walked up, carefully moving around other students. Kaiba’s head raised an inch. Jounouchi swallowed hard and his guts clenched. Instead of words, he nodded towards their table.

Before he could get a response, someone barrelled full force into him, knocking his tray up into his chest and spilling food down the front of his shirt. He froze, with the entire lunchroom staring at him as he shivered.

“Oh Jou-kun, jeez, I’m sorry...I...”

Jounouchi’s eyes squeezed closed. “Nah, man, it’s a’right.”

It was more about what the food cost, Jounouchi thought for a second. It wasn’t often he actually bought his lunch. Today, he had felt like he earned it after having the pleasure of cleaning up the Old Man’s mess and had cut his palm open on a liquor bottle fragment. But no, it wasn’t really that. It was that Kaiba had seen it and promptly left.

—

The shirt was ruined. Not that most of his clothes weren’t for not having been washed for close to two weeks.

When he dressed out for gym he was thankful it wasn’t Kaiba’s shirt. He’d changed out of that after the third day, when the bath soap smell went away. It was the shirt that Kaiba had washed for him. Now, it unfortunately smelt like some teriyaki mess crossed with the lilac-lavender.

Gym was probably the only time he and Kaiba didn’t talk. They were too busy jabbing at each other over tennis, even when they weren’t playing one another.

The coach was merciful and had them rotate partners, though he and Kaiba always seemed to face each other at least once, which meant that he was sweat-soaked and frustrated from chasing the ball.

“Go on, mutt, it’s natural instinct!”

“Piss off, ya ain’t funny,” he chuckled.

But Kaiba laughed full-belly. Not quite as maniacal as in the past, but Jounouchi was sure he could have lobbed the ball into Kaiba’s mouth if he tried hard enough.

There definitely wasn’t much friendship going on between them. It was more like a symbiosis of misery over some weird, backwards empathy or sympathy, he still hadn’t decided which yet. Jounouchi was a chew toy that bit back, and it was kind of fun in the weirdest way possible. Weird for the weirdo, who would have thought?

Jounouchi liked hearing Kaiba laugh, though. It was passionate and raw. A small side of his strange dual personality. A part that was hidden like the innocent confusion.

Maybe Jounouchi was being soft. When Kaiba arched his back and legs to serve, he did look at Kaiba’s abdomen. Milky white, taut, swirling around a small belly-button with just a small touch of hair where his short would slip down at the arc of the serve. It almost made his taunting worth it every time Jounouchi missed, and the ball hit the back wall.

But he wasn’t as interested on Friday. Drove down by the oppressive heat, the lack of sleep, and the pain in his palm every time his racket made contact with the ball. He was tired and ready to leave.

Spending a few useless hours at Yuugi’s going over flash cards and mock exams while they nibbled on snacks sounded appealing. Very appealing. More appealing than getting a few seconds to stare at Kaiba’s washboard abs and sweat-flushed cheeks, but mainly because they would eventually ended up playing a video-game. Yeah, that sounded nice.

Jounouchi snorted and hit the ball. It had become a little easier to lob the ball back, even if Kaiba served it ninety miles an hour on a backspin. He’d learned enough pattern to slide into the hit.

“I didn’t think old dogs learned new tricks,” Kaiba quipped.

“Surprise, surprise.”

“Might actually be a challenge.” The ball barrelled back at him. “Not.”

“I’ve had some practice.”

“Oh? On who?” Kaiba asked.

A heavy grunt as Jounouchi hit it barely over the net. “Got a face in mind.”

Kaiba spiked the ball back. “Heh. I have a few guesses.”

There it was, that subtle empathy, that little look of curiosity coupled with a smirk that came off as condescending to others. Slowly, Jounouchi was beginning to deconstruct it.

Weakly, the ball hit the net before flopping back towards Jounouchi’s feet. He served it, loosely gripping his racket and sending the ball into the net. He wasn’t even keeping score. 45-0 probably. Or maybe they were on the next match. Kaiba told him but he wasn’t listening.

“Please, mutt, you’re wasting my time.”

“Now or always?”

Kaiba didn’t respond. Which was normal, because moneybag didn’t reply to a lot of things, but Jounouchi had figured out that his silences were their own communication. Words without words, and it hurt. ‘Yes’ would have hit him with so much less frustration.

The ball fired at him like a bullet, and Jounouchi double-handed the racket to hit it back.

This was an actual match. Back and forth, running until his lungs felt like they were bleeding and he was sure his palm actually was. Because fuck it, Kaiba was still a prick, a weirdo, an asshole who was pretty damn happy making sure people who just how much he didn’t like or need them for anything. They were obstacles, that was it.

Well, Jounouchi would be a damned obstacle.

He kept up with Kaiba until his arms and elbows ached. Maybe Kaiba would actually lighten the hell up if he was able to keep pace. That’s all he wanted. Whatever that casual, calm look he got when things were his way or in his favour, waving his magnanimousness around when it suited him.

The ball bounced out of bounds, and Jounouchi hung his head. He squeezed the semi-wet racket, not bothering to look if it was sweat or blood.

“What, you give up?”

“Zip it!”

Kaiba’s lip curled. He followed Jounouchi’s trek to the ball like the camera that had checked Jounouchi at the gate.

“When did it happen?” Kaiba asked, nodding towards the bloody racket handle.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Jounouchi’s heart throbbed in frustration, and he bounced the ball several times while refusing to look at Kaiba drilling a hole in the side of his head. Now he wanted to ask? Whatever.

When he went to serve, he caught a strange, resigned look hooded in Kaiba’s eyes, but it was too late. All of his embarrassment, his annoyance, his frustration went into the contact of racket to ball.

It wasn’t Kaiba, he thought as the ball ripped through through air.

Kaiba was something to take his anger out on. Just like the kids he used to pummel. They were distractions, easy targets, prey. He’d loosened up with Yuugi, who sort of got it, who supported him but didn’t ask questions and let him stay over when things got a little too overwhelming.

If he thought for half a second, he knew Kaiba was just Kaiba. Doomed to be a prick; he was forged by his unmentioned, screwed up raise, same as Jounouchi. Two personalities walking parallel on the same path. And it made him so easy to target. To challenge. To be a mirror.

Right up until the tennis ball smashed him in the face.

Jounouchi didn’t know if Kaiba reacted or not. He only saw the racket slipping out of his hand and clattering on the ground, echoing across the gymnasium as the last of the tennis balls bounded to a stop. Not even a murmur, though every last eye was on them.

Kaiba gripped his face, and blood spackled the floor in fat, red drops that slipped between his fingers. He squatted down on curled his face close to his knees.

Shit.

Sprinting to Kaiba, Jounouchi knelt beside him and slung an arm over his shoulders. Gently, he urged Kaiba to pull his hands away to look at the damage. When he wouldn’t, Jounouchi tore of his gym shirt and offered it for cover, pressing it into Kaiba’s hands.

Kaiba gasped at the touch, and shoved Jounouchi to the floor while greedily pressing it to his cheeks. His eyes flicked to Jounouchi, pained and innocently confused, while he sucked in muffled, panted breaths and attempted to stand up.

“Kaib’ you—“

“Save it.”

Jounouchi stared at Kaiba’s knobby knees in a daze, a single blood drop trailing down his shin. The coach jogged over and began to guide Kaiba away.

“I’m sorry!” Jounouchi shouted. The room went still again. Even Kaiba stopped, half-turning to look back. “I’m sorry. Really, it was an accident, I didn’t mean t’ do it. It jus’...”

The shirt dropped long for Jounouchi to see the medley of colours blossoming across the now strange new angle of Kaiba’s nose, mostly covered in globs of blood and snot. There was never a hint of defeat in his face, but something indecipherable, something that stung Jounouchi’s heart as he jaw ticked and continued to walk away.

“Fuck...”

Jounouchi could forget figuring Kaiba out, or whatever the hell he was doing. None of this made any sense to begin with. It was just confusing, embarrassing, humiliating. What was he thinking?

Kaiba would kill him. No, not kill. That was too kind. Sue probably, though Kaiba’s pocket lint was probably worth more. Make an example out of. Shun, somehow worse than before. Which meant no more casual glances or creepy stares or magnanimous gestures.

Somehow, he’d managed to hurt the only person who he was honest and willing to share with, who he thought he might have been able to have a heart-to-heart with. Or more, whatever more was.

Love, probably.

Not that he knew a thing about it. Not that it mattered anymore. Better to fuck it up before it got too far and either of them fooled themselves in thinking there was actually something going on.

That didn’t make his heart hurt any less.

[crimsonbluemoon]

Prompt 5: Why do you hate me?

Good morning everyone! So I spent a good portion of the morning cranking out some of the prompts, so I’ll be posting them sporatically through the day. So for now, please enjoy this one asked for by @risualto . It’s not SUPER angsty, just a pinch, but I hope you enjoy either way! 

Couple: MiniCat (Implied? Hinted)

5. “Why do you hate me?”

It’s been like this for nearly two weeks, and Mini’s not quite sure how to fix it.

He hadn’t thought anything was different between them when they met up with Evan for their trip to the mountains. The boys had spent two days together, away from youtube, stress, and everything else that could be forgotten on the slopes of the mountain. Evan had shown both of them up in ice-skating, which was expected by the ice hockey player. They had spent the night drinking and making silly pictures involving bananas as guns or phones, depending on which person Mini was taking a picture of. They had a lot of fun, simply chilling and playing video games with no concerns about face-cams or ping levels. They just competed against each other, Mini and Evan laughing as Tyler was knocked off the track for the fourth time by a blue shell.

The next day had been...less relaxing. Craig had a little too much confidence in his snowboard skills, pushing himself more so than he had in a long time. Evan continued to ask him if he wanted to get lessons, but Craig had shrugged him off when seeing that neither of his friends were planning on getting a refresher. Mini just needed time to practice, that was all. So he went through most of the day, falling over or getting passed by kids that were half his age on the bunny slopes. Tyler teased him each time he could, only elevating Mini’s desire to get onto the same track as his two friends. And despite being tired, sore, and ready to call it quits, Mini decided to trek up to the location of Evan and Tyler for his last run down the mountain. Evan was supportive of Craig, though he did question if he wanted to tackle the mountain another time. The weather was starting to get colder, the sun beginning to drop low. But Craig had shrugged off his concern with a grin and a wave before starting his trip down the mountain.

And then, chaos ensured. He hadn’t seen the rock in the slope, as the sun’s reflection had hidden it from his bad eyesight. When his snowboard smashed into the hidden obstacle, Craig was tossed into the air, his body slamming into the slope hard. He rolled a few times before coming to a slow halt, the word spinning behind his glasses while he tried to re-orient himself. The helmet he had hated wearing had been lost up the slope at some point, along with one of his gloves. The snowboard had unclipped from one of his feet, the other ankle screaming with pain while being tossed around in the fall. Mini’s head had been fuzzy for the rest of the day (he later learned it was a concussion), and he didn’t remember how he had gotten back to the house. He actually didn’t remember much of the rest of the trip, just that he had slept for a whole day when he got home.

Oh, and that Tyler now hated him.

“Mini, can you fucking hit someone?” The growl from his tall friend made Craig sigh, trying to keep his voice from shaking in anger while he responded.

“I’m sorry, I’m not the one with the gold scar and a full shield.”

“And it's not my fault you’re shit at this game.” The comments were vicious, even for Tyler’s standard. It was enough to create tension in the group, Marcel keeping quiet as he tried to heal up Brian.

“Tyler, man, can you give him a break? He’s working with like, no sleep and a focked up ankle.” Brian’s sympathy was appreciated by Mini, who was trying to hide long enough for the fortnite circle to trap their enemies. He was slightly distracted when a scoff was heard through the discord.

“If he’s going to whine and bitch about being tired, then he shouldn’t bother playing.” The nasty remark was the final straw for Mini, who let his anger show in his snapped reply.

“Fuck you, Tyler.” He didn’t care about the lost footage as he clicked out of the game, ignoring Marcel and Brian’s call of his name as he disconnected from Discord. His headphones were tossed onto his desk as he pushed his chair back, the anger still boiling in his chest. Why was Tyler being such a dick? How come he couldn’t just have a normal conversation with Mini about whatever was stuck up his ass?

Craig wanted to believe it was only anger he was feeling, but he wasn’t stupid. His eyes moved away from the brightness of his screen as he stared at the leg still wrapped in a cast. Though he had been annoyed at the outcome of his accident, he wasn’t stupid; losing his helmet and smashing his head into the ground could have ended up with repercussions that were far worse than a concussion. Head traumas were common in snowboarding, and Craig had known people who had personally gotten taken out of the sport because of a similar type of accident. From Evan’s account, his helmet had flown off mid-air, meaning his head hit the ground at full impact. The broken ankle sucked, but he was lucky that he wasn’t hospitalized.

He thought that the accident would only strengthen friendship with Tyler. Evan had been keeping in contact more, making sure that Mini was all set. A few of their friends had sent supportive texts, and made sure that he had enough content to give him the extra money he’d need for doctors visits and medication. But Tyler had been missing in action. The only times he talked to Mini were in gameplay, and it rarely was the comforting kind. Over the past few weeks, everything that Craig did was wrong. Whether it was his golf game, the card he chose in Cards Against Humanity, or which gun he picked in Fortnite, Mini was wrong, and Tyler was going to tell him. It was as frustrating as it was sad, because he wasn’t sure what had caused the huge wedge between them.

His morbid thoughts were scattered when his ringtone went off, Mini glancing over to the table to see the screen light up. ‘WildCat’ blinked across the screen, and Craig gave a quiet groan before he swiped the phone off the surface and answered the call.

“What now? Did I exit the wrong way?” Mini knew that he was being an ass, but after the last exchange between the two, he wasn’t feeling mature enough to hold back. He leaned his feet (the broken one at a much slower pace) up on his desk while his computer chair shifted, listening to the annoyed sigh on the other side of the phone.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not why I called.”

“Good to know.”

“Look, I-” Tyler paused in the conversation, his angry tone seeming to fizzle out when he started the conversation again. “I don’t want to fucking argue with you.”

“That’s all you’ve been doing,” Mini answered, his eyes casting to the side. “It’s...it’s like..”

“Like what? Just spit it out.” The clipped tone that Tyler used made Craig wince, his hand balling up on the armrest of his chair.

“Why do you hate me?” Mini hadn’t meant to ask that particular question. It had been floating around in his head for days, but he didn’t think he’d ever actually say it. The feeling had festered from a small hole in his heart, trickling out the edges and leaving him feeling more vulnerable than he wanted to admit. Even now, as he thought back on what he had said, he felt his stomach twist and his lips tug down into an unpleasant frown. Fighting with Tyler...it didn’t feel right. It was uncomfortable, and held more weight than Mini was willing to admit. He had gotten into small fights with all of his friends, but none hit him as hard as this with Tyler.

“What the fuck?” Tyler’s stunned tone caught Mini off guard, the British man blinking as his friend continued. “Dude, I don’t hate you.”

“You’ve been coming at me for days,” was Craig’s answer, hoping the slight change of his voice wouldn’t show how the shift in their friendship had bothered him.

“That’s because-fucking shit, did you see your head, Craig? Did you?” The question wasn’t where Mini had expected Tyler to go, and he didn’t have a quick enough answer to step in. “Because I did, and there...I couldn’t stop it. Your fucking head smashed against the ground like a bouncy ball. Your whole body just kept rolling, and I was sure you-it’s not like I could fucking stop you. I had to just sit there and watch the whole thing happen, and then you weren’t moving and I thought you were-of course I fucking got mad!”

“You were scared?”

“Did I say I was fucking scared?!” But from the loud denial, Mini knew the truth. Tyler had never been the one to show his feelings, not when they made him vulnerable. “It’s not like I could have stopped you. Even if I was the one who was saying shit, you’re the one who came up to the slope when you weren’t ready. Who does that?”

“Tyler, are you...blaming yourself for my accident?”

“I never said that.” Was the quick response, but Craig was ready for it.

“You’ve talked about not being able to stop me, like, three times.” Then there was silence on the phone, and Mini took a chance to press the topic. “Just so you know, I don’t blame any of this on you. Yeah, you were teasing me, but that’s just you normally. I wanted to go up there.”

“But would you have if I wasn’t being such a fucking ass?”

“Duh, I just wanted to be where you were.” The confession was fast, Craig realizing instantly that he hadn’t meant to say it. Hoping to recover, Mini gave a loud laugh, his cheeks brightening as his pitch and speed quickened. “And Evan! Both of you, really, because you’re both my friends and why would I only want to see you? That’d be weird unless I liked you or something-”

“Chill the fuck out, dude.” It was the first time since the incident that Craig had heard the laugh, and it stopped his rambling as quick as it started. When Tyler spoke again, it lacked any anger, the edges smoothed over with relief and affection. “You’re such a moron.”

“Hey, I resent that.” He really didn’t, if the smile now spreading over his lips was any indication, but he tried to keep his dramatics up by pressing a hand to his heart. “You’ve wounded me, Tyler, and I don’t think I’ll ever recover.”

“Shut up and get back in the game.”

“I thought I sucked?”

“You do, obviously. But it’s good for content.”

“Fuck you, Tyler!” Except this time, he was laughing while he said the words, the heart which had ached before now filled with a warmth that only Tyler could give him. Maybe another night, he would really question why that was. But for now, he just wanted to get back to playing the game and being friends with the other man.

And thats the end! So, writing in 2k is hard. And I feel like this needs so much more, but ahhh I did my best! I hope you enjoy it regardless >.< So as always, like, reblog, and let me know what you think! ^.^

[narrative-prospector]

Life is Strange: Before the Storm Game Review (7.5 / 10)

**SPOILER ALERT** (If you’d like to avoid spoilers, but still receive my input on the game, the Intro and Final Thoughts will always remain spoiler free.)

Intro:

I was recently speaking with a friend who described herself as “anti-video game.” When I asked her about it, she responded with the common belief that she found them a waste of time. In a market dominated by MOBAs and Battle Royales, I decided to make my case for video games from the narrative side of things, asking her if she had heard of (the original) Life is Strange game. She hadn’t, but immediately wanted to know why it was any different, why it wasn’t a waste of time, and how it changed / impacted me for the better.

I explained to her that Life is Strange reminded me of the great struggles each and every person faces. It shed light on the everyday ways, big and small, that I could help make burdens lighter for others. It reminded me that every choice in life matters, and not only did it show me ways to love, but it inspired me to love better, to cherish every beautiful moment, and to be grateful for every person whose life touches mine, or at the very least not to take their presence for granted. Needless to say, after our conversation, she was very interested in playing the game.

This power to change me is what made the first Life is Strange so great, and additionally what made me so eager jump into the 2017 prequel series, Life is Strange: Before the Storm. However, from its early stages, developer Deck Nine made it clear that Before the Storm would be a different game, and after playing it, I found that indeed it was. In some ways it surprised and thrilled me, and in other ways it returned to that same nostalgia I missed from the original game. There were, of course, also some elements of the game I would have done differently. I’ll give my thoughts on the game below, focusing mostly on its narrative elements, and as always leave a summarized TLDR (spoiler free!) version in the Final Thoughts section. Thanks for giving me a read, and here’s to making and playing the best games possible!

What Worked:

Effectively chronicles the evolution of Chloe. Before the Storm (BTS) takes the player through key events of Chloe’s past, which made her into the familiar blue haired punk from the original Life is Strange (LIS 1). It explores flashbacks and dream sequences of her father’s death and Max’s departure, all while showcasing other significant moments of Chloe’s formation: David’s moving in, her expulsion from Blackwell, and, of course, the relationship with Rachel Amber, powerful enough to break her by its ending. Every step along the way of Chloe’s path seems appropriate and motivated, and it’s fascinating to witness the moments that make Chloe who she is when you meet her in LIS 1. It’s well done, and something I really enjoyed.

Equally satisfying paths of friendship and romance. Just like in the original game, BTS unapologetically allows the relationship between its strong female protagonists to take a romantic turn. However, in an even braver move, the game also allows the player to have them remain friends, sending the story down a path no less developed or fulfilling. In a world where saying "we're just friends" is a strategy for rejecting unwanted lovers and the friend zone is something to be dreaded (speaking from personal experience are we?), this series continues to advocate for emotional intimacy in friendships, inspiring us to go deeper, love better and in a more supportive way, reminding us how life-giving (and often under appreciated) our friendships can be. This was a thematic thread I was hoping to see expanded upon from the LIS I, and once again, Deck Nine didn't disappoint.

Beautifully interwoven symbols & motifs. Pay close attention to anything related to ravens, fire, eyes, or lying. These all start small, but build powerfully and are visited throughout, tying the story together. The game also revisits images from LIS 1: the doe, storm, totem pole, squirrels, etc. drawing parallels between the games through these symbols (Chloe’s raven to Max’s doe - the storm to the wildfire). And while Max left her mark on the world through her photography, Chloe prefers a more literal approach. Her graffiti pen tags (along with her outfit selections) allow the player to further interact with these symbols, in addition to making fun collectibles to hunt down. It was really neat to notice these little details which the writers and designers crafted with care, and it definitely added to the impact of the story.

A nostalgic return to Arcadia Bay. The contrast of new adventures unfolding in familiar locations was a really neat element of the prequel series. The game provides the player with plenty of moments to simply take in their surroundings alongside a killer soundtrack (more on that later), and I definitely took advantage of it, especially in Chloe’s room, Frank’s RV, the junkyard, and all over Blackwell. It was so evocative just to see these places again, and interesting to get Chloe’s reflections on them. Like Chloe, these places also evolve as her backstory plays out (e.g. junkyard hangout room, Chloe’s truck) providing the player with a deeper understanding of the LIS 1 world’s origins.

The soundtrack. Deck Nine placed their game’s music in different hands than Dontnod, but ones no less apt. Daughter did an amazing job creating haunting, emotional, nostalgic, atmospheric songs to accompany Chloe’s journey, both diegetic (like Skip’s song) and not. The game also features other singles like Speedy Ortiz’s “No Below,” which perfectly capture what Chloe’s going through at this point in her life. It’s a soundtrack I simply had to purchase after playing through the game, and when I’m out and about and the songs come up on shuffle, I’m immediately taken back. I almost start expecting to see objects highlighted in white as I look at them.

Morally and philosophically thought provoking themes. Of course, like LIS 1, the game explores friendship, love, care, and trust, but overall, the central question the game asks is: Is it better to protect someone you love with a lie, or honor them with the truth? Whether or not lying, or concealing the truth, is always wrong is a very interesting question, and it’s one I’ve thought a lot about (I’m actually working on a theology essay about it - but that’s another blog). And, while it’s a question other games have explored (I’m looking at you, The Last of Us) the game provides a unique take on the question by having the player answer it with his/her final choice, ending the game with a more philosophical but significantly less dramatic choice than LIS 1, but nonetheless thought provoking in its own right.

What Got in the Way:

Chloe resists player shaping too much, much more than Max. With Max, I felt like her power of time control was in my hands. I could wield it for mischief, exact my justice as judge, jury, and executioner, or show mercy and love. Also, this power combined with the game’s mechanic of allowing you to restart from any point in the story made it easier to play Max right, ensuring that her story played out the way you wanted it to. Naturally, without Max’s time powers, Chloe’s decisions weigh more and are harder to undo. While this choice was intentional on behalf of the studio, rather than teaching me something about Chloe or life, I just wound up Googling the results of the choices more often or regretting not doing so as I’m smashing buttons, desperately trying to skip cut-scenes after loading a previous save. Basically, reversing your choices is way too tedious. Before you make a choice, get ready to live with it.

Too many unconnected dots between BTS and the original game. While BTS uncovers much of LIS 1’s backstory, it still leaves many questions unanswered. For example, what kind of relationship did Rachel have with Frank? Or, how did Rachel first become involved with Nathan’s photography experiment gone-wrong? These were things I was expecting to understand before the game’s end, and I was surprised to see the credits roll first. If it were up to me, I would have gone through all of that and ended the game just after the start of LIS 1, when Chloe reunites with Max.

Humanizes the villains until there’s no one left to hate. Almost. At one point or another in the game, Chloe comes up against Drew, David, Principal Wells, Nathan, Mr. Prescott, Mr. Amber, Sheldon, and Damon as adversaries. With the exception of Damon, who is this game’s Mr. Jefferson (the creepy bad guy who’s evil to be evil) the game attempts to generate sympathy for nearly every antagonist. For example, Drew’s only a mean drug dealer because he’s trying to financially support his little brother and dad. David really cares about Chloe and Joyce, but he lost his best friend in the army. Wells is just trying to protect the school, Nathan was bullied into his perversions, Mr. Prescott loves Rachel too much and is trying to protect her, etc. Sheldon’s genuinely a creep but if you give him what he deserves and tell Damon he’s a snitch, you have to read his desperate texts begging for Mercy. 

I actually think the game did a great job humanizing certain characters (David, Drew, Mr. Amber), but I think it was confusing to try to arouse sympathy in the player for Nathan, for example, before his commits his terrible crime. What really put me over the edge was finding a letter in the hospital from Nathan’s dad where he offers to anonymously cover Mikey’s hospital costs. We see him bullying his son, he’s supposed to be the reason Nathan turns to his evil ways, and yet we’re supposed to believe deep down he’s really a good guy? 

I get the point. Real people aren’t black and white, good and evil, it’s always more complicated than that. Still, I would draw a distinction between understanding why someone is evil and actually feeling bad for them, and instead of cheapening his power as a threat, I would have left Mr. Prescott among the Darth Sidiouses of Before the Storm.

Initially jarring change of voice actors. It just so happens that I began playing Guerrilla Games’ Horizon: Zero Dawn as I started BTS, so I felt like Chloe pulled a Scooby-Doo: The Movie and transported her soul into Aloy’s body, (Ashly Burch voices Chloe in the original game and the protagonist of Horizon: Zero Dawn - quite excellently, in fact) but the change in voice actors shook me up at first. Though it seems like Deck Nine made an effort to get most of the original voice actors, you’ll notice the new voices for David and Chloe. This seems to be the result of a SAG-AFTRA strike, so it wasn’t really under anyone’s control, but still, it would have been nice to have the same actor for the game’s main character. Took me about an episode to get over it and used to it.

Ends on a sour note. Chloe’s relationship with Rachel made Before the Storm one of the most beautiful stories I’d experienced, and it almost ends on a nostalgic note, panning through photographs that capture their memories together. Instead, the game ends in that infamous dark room where Rachel is drugged and photographed before her murder, with Chloe’s missed calls blowing up her phone. This immediately ripped me from the warm, reflective feeling I experienced over Chloe and Rachel and instead brought back the rage and disgust I had for Nathan and Mr. Jefferson. Whether by ending the game when Chloe meets Max (as I’ve suggested earlier), or ending it on Chloe’s last moments with Rachel, maybe even allowing them to exchange some touching (final - as the player knows it) words, I would’ve ended the game in the mood it so effectively created where I felt both sad to let Rachel go, and grateful for the mark she made on Chloe. Ending it on that final scene seemed like a missed opportunity.

Final Thoughts: (Rating: 7.5/10)

For players who’ve never experienced Life is Strange before, I’d recommend starting with the original series. For those who enjoyed the game, Before the Storm is a definite should-play. It’s worth it for the return to Arcadia Bay’s landscapes and characters alone, but you’ll also discover what Blackwell looked like before Max, who the mysterious Rachel Amber really was, why nearly everyone adored her, and what transformed Chloe from Max’s pirate-obsessed childhood best friend into the blue-haired girl waving a gun around in the girl’s bathroom. However, if you’re expecting it to be too much like the first game, you may be disappointed. To get the most out of it, I’d recommend trying to step into Chloe’s shoes and playing the character as true to herself as possible, rather than trying to shape her choices according to your own preferences. Allow yourself to act impulsively, make mistakes, and brace for the consequences. Undoing Chloe’s actions proves a lot more tedious than those of the time-traveling Max, so try to do it right the first time. Oh, and don’t expect too many answers. You’ll get plenty of great ones, but just like the native spirits of the raven and doe, they have to leave some mysteries unsolved. In the words of Rachel Amber, “life needs a little mystery,”  and after all, it’s mystery that makes life strange. 

[bisansastarks]

I Put My Head Underwater, Baby

Looking back, Lydia swears it all starts with Allison’s funeral. Or the Sunday after her funeral when she first appeared to Lydia- translucent, close mouthed smile, and blood stained.  

Scott will argue that nothing happens until that night in her house, drinking Kentucky bourbon with a strange summer rain outside.

Stiles, of course, says it started long before, which causes them both to laugh and Lydia to tease, “Maybe in your dreams, Stilinski.”

@hanleialukes

But Lydia is right. It is because of Allison.

Lydia hates funerals. True, she’s never been to one that actually mattered. The last one she attended she was 7, and it was her great, great, grandfather. Lydia doesn’t remember him at all except that he smelled like death, and tiny pristine Lydia wrinkled her nose every time she had to visit his house.

She remembers her mom cried, however. She thinks of that now, as she looks in the mirror and gets ready for Allison’s.

Allison would absolutely loathe the dress. It was shapeless and black and cut to the legs.

Allison would hate a lot of things about her own funeral, to be fair, because Allison was all colors and laughter and bright shining life.  Allison and funerals didn’t belong—every time Lydia tried to think the two ideas together, it felt wrong, like picking the wrong equation and then trying to figure out a sum.

Lydia hated the dress, too. Hated to see herself in it. But that was kind of the point, wasn’t it?

Scott and Stiles are picking her up. Her mom wants to come, but Lydia said no. She keeps thinking of her mom crying at her great great grandfather’s funeral, and she is trying to compartmentalize her feelings into neat little boxes.

Allison. Her best friend. Shiny black curls and “someone could be falling in love with your smile.”

Her funeral.  Lydia’s mother’s tears.

The ones unshed behind Lydia’s own eyelids.

Lydia hears Stiles’ jeep pulling up and thinks, stupid, worthless, piece of garbage. Usually, she’d say that to his face and then Stiles would get very red and argue with her. It was fun, arguing with him. Sometimes she has more fun arguing with Stiles about well, everything, than she does on dates. She’s taken it as a barometer of how well a date goes. Is this conversation about sports cars more fun than teasing Stiles about his hair? Is this make out session more exciting than shouting back and forth about the inaccuracies of Star Wars?

Allison gave her a very knowing look when she had told her this. Which caused Lydia to stiffen up and say crisply, “Well, it’s not more fun than sex.”

“You haven’t had sex with Stiles,” Allison had said, her voice all singsongy and smug. God, Lydia wanted to punch her, then. She misses her now.

“Shut up Allison!”

Stiles beeps. She’s pretty sure it’s again.

Another day and she’d insult his car AND his manners.

But not today.

The ride over is long- or maybe it’s short? Lydia feels like she’s floating, trying to plant her feet on the ground and failing. She’s holding Scott’s hand probably tighter than necessary but he never complains. Only smiles at her. He looks good in a suit, but she wonders if she looks as sad as he does. There is a weariness in his eyes- Scott takes care of everyone, but who takes care of Scott?

Allison did. Now, she’s gone.

Stiles, somehow, looks even worse.  Dark circles under his eyes and he’s as pale as a corpse, his mouth looking like it’s forgotten how to smile.  He looks guilty, Lydia realizes.  She wants to slap him, hug him, make him pull over, something. Stop it! This isn’t your fault! It’s mine! Or maybe it’s no one’s, but it’s not yours!

But to do that, she’d have to let go of Scott’s hand, and that means falling. So, she stays silent and listens to the radio.

Chris cries and so do other Argents. So does Scott. Stiles stands between them, his hands on both their shoulders, trying to offer comfort, but it’s a bit like trying to hug a cactus if Lydia is being honest. She sees Isaac briefly in the crowd and she wonders how he’s feeling. Almost being loved by Allison Argent must be a terrible thing.

Lydia doesn’t cry. This funeral is ridiculous. It’s not for Allison. Half the people here Allison hated, and Lydia didn’t even know she was Catholic. Allison would want something on the beach with her favorite music playing. Or a Viking burial, light an arrow and burn her on the water—Allison would love that! Lydia almost giggles at that ridiculous thought, until she remembers where she is.  

She doesn’t cry. She repeats this like a mantra in her head.

She doesn’t cry.

“Here.”

Chris holds it out to her awkwardly, as if she should understand what is happening. She’s at the Argent’s for the after whatever it’s called. She was thinking about sneaking some of the scotch floating around and finding Stiles and Scott when Chris approached her.

Which is weird in and of itself. Besides thinking Allison’s dad is a total silver fox and teasing Allison about it mercilessly, she doesn’t have much of a relationship with Chris. Although, she knows how much Allison loved him. And she feels a special kinship to him now- people Allison left behind, people who loved her in all sorts of ways.

It’s Allison’s bow and arrow and Lydia didn’t cry at the funeral but she really, desperately, wants to now.

“Um….” Lydia is speechless. She’s a banshee and she’s not even sure what that means, but she knows it didn’t come with weapons skills. She doesn’t know how to work that.

“Allison would want you to have it. She would want you to learn. To be safe,” Chris says, and his voice catches on Allison’s name and gets softer with each word. He hurries away from her then, probably to drink. That’s what Lydia wants to do.

She stands there in the Argent hallway, holding her best friend’s favorite weapon, and she cries. That’s where Scott finds her.

“Lydia,” he says quietly. It’s a funeral. You have to be quiet. She thinks that might be the first word he’s said all day. Her name sounds so safe in his mouth. He brushes her hair away from her eyes with one hand and rubs circles on her back with the other. Lydia grabs him, the bow clattering to the floor, loudly, too loud for a funeral she knows.

She doesn’t let go, though.

He smells like Allison, which is absurd, it can’t be true. She just misses her so much.

---

The weekend passes in a haze. After the funeral Lydia goes home and sleeps for six hours.

She wakes up to find ten missed messages- apparently her old crowd, the ones that liked Allison because she was pretty and dressed well and always smiling but didn’t know Allison, were throwing a kegger in her honor.

You have to come!!!FOR ALLISON!!!!! Reads a text from this girl Ashley, who if Lydia recalls correctly was always a passive aggressive bitch to Allison. Jealous of her looks, jealous of her newly hot boyfriend, jealous of her kindness- all things Ashley lacked.

Lydia rolls her eyes. A kegger in Allison’s honor. Allison hated beer and only really only liked to get tipsy off wine while bingewatching tv shows or having Leonardo Dicaprio Marathons with Lydia. Still, she thinks Allison would enjoy the idea of people having fun in her honor, and getting completely black out drunk sounds like a great idea at the moment.

She steals her mom’s expensive rose wine. It was Allison’s favorite.

When she gets into the car, her hands pause on her phone, considering. She should invite Scott and Stiles and Kira. Scott can’t really get drunk (or he can maybe? But it takes a lot) but Stiles and Kira could, and god knows they deserve a good time.

Lydia doesn’t. Maybe because she doesn’t want them to see her get fucked up. Maybe because she sees Allison when she looks at them and it feels like a blade between her ribcage. She feels jealous when she sees Scott- Scott who was loved by her, Scott who got to say goodbye. She can’t handle Stiles guilt. Doesn’t want Kira’s sympathy and offer of friendship.

Whatever the reason is she doesn’t. Instead she goes to a kegger, with a 100 dollar bottle of wine in her hand. Pretends like she was the same girl she used to be; gorgeous, sexy, fun, and carefree.

Without a best friend. Just a string of Ashley’s who smell like cheap victoria secrets perfume and hug her tight like it means anything at all.

----------

Lydia is dying.

Okay, maybe she’s not dying, but she definitely feels like she’s dying. She somehow wound up back in her bed which is worrisome, but she can vaguely recall some JV player she gave a hand job to in 9th grade giving her a ride home because apparently he owed her- that was his first sexual experience, wow she was great with her hands, wanna do it again sometime? Or something.

Everything is very fuzzy.  And painful. Her head feels like it’s underwater and being hit with a hammer, simultaneously. Did she go for a nine mile run last night? Her legs are aching like she did.

Lydia may have drank more than that bottle of wine. There may have also been screwdrivers. And two (three, Lydia remembers now) shots of tequila. Well, at least she didn’t end up crying on someone. Good job Lydia!

“You’re thinking very loudly” says a voice from her right, and also far away.

Oh shit. Fuck. Lydia can’t bare to open her eyes yet, she just burrows underneath her comforter farther. Did she give JV player another handjob? Well. She’s pretty sure they didn’t have sex. Or at least not good sex. That area is really the only part of her that isn’t sore.

She hopes they didn’t have sex. Unsatisfying sex was such a waste of time.

Except...the voice. It’s not familiar exactly. And now that the person has stopped talking she can’t even recall what they said. But she has this feeling the voice was female.

Which….Lydia has no problem with Sapphic love. But it’s not something she usually goes for. Except once at summer camp in eighth grade with Olivia, who had c cups and curves, and was everything 13 year old Lydia wanted to be and was for some reason interested in playing seven minutes in heaven with her.

I’ve got better boobs than her now, Lydia thinks randomly. She wondered what Oliva was doing now. But she was just getting distracted,probably because of the fogginess and massive headache, point of fact, there was a girl in her bed! Which isn’t a thing she did besides that one time at summer camp….and well, that other one time. But she was definitely not thinking of that.

“Seriously. Such loud thoughts.” The voice, the definitely female voice, teased. It sounded strange to her ears. Far away and yet directly in her brain cutting through her hangover and setting her on edge.

Lydia rolled over. Okay she got drunk after her best friend’s funeral and went a little Lilith Fair. Definitely had nothing to do with Allison. She was just drunk and horny she decided. No big deal.

She opened her eyes. She promptly closed her eyes because what the fuck.

Lydia was dreaming. She was definitely dreaming. Or Hallucinating due to alcohol poisioning? Because that was the only way to explain what she thought she just saw.

She took a deep breath, and opened her eyes again.

Allison was lying there. Or well, not lying there. She was on her sheets but not touching them,floating above. Lydia couldn’t see space between Allison and her sheets- but she was absolutely sure that Allison was not touching the bed. She looked unreal, like Lydia’s worst nightmare and best dream rolled into one.  Her skin was white and shimmering and Lydia swore she flickered in front of her, but so quickly that she never quite disappeared from her eyes.

Allison’s hair was long and curly like the day she first met Lydia. She couldn’t figure out what she was wearing, her brain couldn’t seem to focus on it- but she felt as if she wearing the same outfit too.

Suddenly Lydia felt her eyes move downward to the image’s stomach and she felt sick. There was a large blood stain there- it looked wet, and Lydia imagined it dripping onto her comforter.

She had an inane image of her scolding Allison. Allison, get up! You’re getting blood all over my three hundred dollar comforter! She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. (Don’t cry).

“Lydia,” the mirage said, and it didn’t sound like Allison exactly but it sounded achingly familiar. A voice Lydia would want to wrap herself up in if not for the bitter wrongness.

She could smell death in the air now, like her great great great grandfather’s house. She could also smell sea salt, which was Allison’s chosen soap smell.

This is either a dream or she’s losing her mind. Lydia decides to embrace the former. She’s seen the pyschiatric wards in Beacon Hills.

“I’m dreaming,” Lydia says, as if she can convince herself. She sinks back into the comforter and briefly considers hiding underneath it. Like a kid scared of the monster in the closet. Except this monster was her best friend, shimmering, with a large gaping bloody wound in her stomach.

“Lydia!” The crazy trick her brain was playing on her said again, more forcefully. A book shot straight out of her closet and landed by her bed. Smart, Lydia thinks. Very believable haunting. Just like the movies. My brain is smart.

“You’re not dreaming!” It said. Okay, then Lydia was insane. She tried to think of any family history with schizophrenia or other illness but couldn’t remember it. Great, the crazy started with her.

“Lydia, please look at me.” Underneath the wrongness, there was something to it’s voice, a warmth like the sun that Lydia wanted to reach out to, envelop herself in. A warmth like Allison.

She opens her eyes again, unravels herself from her blankets and looks into her dead best friend’s eyes. They’re black, not cold but dark,

“Allison…” No, NO you’re going crazy. This can’t be real. Allison is DEAD. She’s gone and all the wishing won’t bring her back. You need to get up and leave this room. It’s not Allison.

Lydia knows two things:

Allison was dead

This hurt more than her funeral. This fake mirage of her best friend, so close she could touch. Her mind was a real fucking bitch.

She felt a sob take root in her throat- it felt a little bit like playing with a wound when you’re hurt. Mom tells you not to touch it, so you can’t help but do just that. Everytime it hurts, and you never learn.

“I’m crazy.” Lydia whispers. First a banshee, now a crazy banshee.

“Lydia” the mirage is laughing. Lydia can hear it in her voice, although her face remains expressionless, hard to look at. “One of your best friends is a werewolf. You’re a banshee! Kira is a fox! And you think you’re crazy because I’m here?”

That...makes sense. That makes so much sense that Lydia feels buoyant, giddy.  It can’t be real, but is anything impossible in Beacon Hills? She looks at it, at Allison again, and she just knows.

“Allison!” Lydia cries, and oh yes, there are the tears. She reaches forward to hug her.

Of course Lydia realizes, with crushing disappointment and a sinking feeling in her gut, she can’t. She ends up crashing flat on her bed, going right through her. She expects to feel cold- that’s what happens in the movies right?

Instead she feels nothing. But she remembers, Allison. Allison laughing in the hall at school. Allison falling asleep on her during movie marathons. Allison singing along to boy bands while they drove in the car. Allison with a devious look in her eyes, mouth hot.  

She looks up, her hangover is gone- and so is Allison.

Well, fuck.

Lydia spent the rest of her Sunday trying to get her to come back.

Allison couldn’t just appear for two minutes and then disappear forever. Lydia learned a long time ago the world wasn’t fair or just, but this was too much. She had to come back.

She tried just asking, pleading the with dead air, calling for her like a stray cat.

“Allison, please, I believe you. Come back!”

Nothing.

She thought maybe this had something to do with her Banshee powers, it’s not like she fully understood them. Maybe she could conjure Allison? So Lydia sat on her bed cross legged and imagined Allison there- just as she had appeared, blood stain and all. She sat there for an hour, maybe more, until her head hurt too much from trying.

Nothing.

Lydia tried doing things Allison liked to do, because maybe Allison was bored with being a ghost and wanted to rewatch all of the OC with her. She booted up her laptop and started researching- mostly Lydia found kooks who were convinced their oven was possessed by Satan. Another woman claimed her child was possessed- Lydia was pretty sure her kid was actually a werewolf and couldn’t bear to tell her. (She was absolutely not going to tell Scott about that one, he’d drag them all to New England to solve a family problem and insist this kid was a new member of their pack and honestly Lydia was too tired for that.)

But she did learn two things

Ghosts could be reached through physical items the living person had felt connected to.

Ghosts usually occured because someone’s death was traumatic or quick. It didn’t occur to them that they were dead in the first place, and they could spend years haunting areas never finding peace.  

So Lydia spent the day carrying around Allison’s crossbow. She held it while pouring a glass of wine and making a sandwich. It sat next to her homework while she worked on Calc.

And yes, it sat in her lap while watching the OC. She decides that Stiles is definitely Seth and that she is a much smarter, prettier Summer, but Allison isn’t Marissa at all. She tried to imagine Scott brooding like Ryan and sloshes her wine as she laughs.

Allison doesn’t appear. Lydia tries not to think too hard about that second fact she gleaned. An Allison who appeared suddenly, alone, thinking she was alive and wondering where her friends were.

First day back to school felt a little bit like entering a war zone. Or facing a supernatural creature and Lydia’s only weapon was her looks. She put on her darkest red lipstick and her highest heels, and prepared herself.

There were the hugs. So many hugs from people Lydia had sworn she had never spoken to before. The teacher’s looks of shock when she actually had her homework. The boys who used every excuse to touch her.

Lydia wanted to scream. These people didn’t care. Not about Allison and not about her.

And the worst part of it was, in the corner of her eye, by her locker, in the back of the classroom: she kept expecting to see Allison. Not Allison the ghost. Allison her best friend. But she saw neither.

She was zoning out, losing it. She kept trying to open her locker but she couldn’t remember if it was K, F, B or K, F, C???????

“God fucking DAMN IT.” Lydia swore, hitting her locker and pretending the tears in her eyes was because of the pain. It did hurt. It hurt a lot. She’d probably have a bruise. Damn it.

“Uh...Lydia?” Stiles is suddenly besides her, smelling like clean soap and a little too much cologne. She really needs to make fun of him for that so he’ll stop.  He’s looking at her not like she’s crazy or with pity, but with warmth in his eyes. Which is hilarious because Stiles wasn’t warm at all was he?. He was all sharp angles and biting words, and yet Lydia thinks he’s never looked at her any other way.

“Hey Stiles,”  She winces. Her fingers are definitely bruised, “I couldn’t figure out my lock….” She is definitely wearing too much contour to blush, besides she doesn’t blush.

“Yeah, those locks can be tricky.” In a way that’s mocking her but also not.” Hey why don’t you give it a break, have some food with me and Scott. Come back to it fully fed and ready for round two.”

“I didn’t want to carry my books” She admits. She just had Calc and Psychics and each book weighed at least ten pounds. And now that her hand is also bruised- it really doesn’t help.

“I’ll take them” And he just does, and Stiles is definitely scrawny but she doesn’t make the obvious crack. She has to tease him though. She has to.

“Are you gonna give me your varsity jacket to wear next?”

Stiles blushes. They walk to lunch.  

Lydia files that blush away for later when she can appreciate it more. It is a lovely shade of red.

Scott has saved them an entire table, and Lydia wonders if Kira and ten other friends she didn’t know existed will be joining them. She goes and grabs a salad and joins them. Stiles is eating a sandwich and Scott is eating four.  Scott smiles at her when she sits down and she compares these two boys- her two favorite boys perhaps.

Scott is kind. She remembers Allison saying that, and Lydia had scoffed because kind didn’t get you get off. But she understands why Allison was drawn to him now, has stopped being jealous- Scott is kind and good and he makes you feel the same. Lydia wishes she could bottle up that feeling sometimes, use it when she’s having a bad day.

Stiles is volatile. He can be kind, he can be a lot of things, but it’s now what defines him- Lydia isn’t quite sure she’s figured out what defines him.

She’s contemplating this when she watches Stiles shove an entire half of the sandwich into his mouth.

Nevermind, Stiles was defined by his idiocy.

“How was your weekend?” Scott asks, she avoids his eyes. This weekend was the funeral and tequila shots and a freaking ghost. Lydia doesn’t want to discuss it.

She should tell them. Not telling them sits hard in her stomach until the sight of her ceasar salad is making her slightly nauseous. It’s not like they wouldn’t believe her! She dated a lizard for god sakes.

But she doesn’t because…. because Lydia is a terrible selfish person.

She wants to keep Allison to herself. She knows Stiles and Scott and god, Chris, miss her as much as she does, but Allison came to her! She felt like she was floating away, and there was Allison. It meant something.

She swallows her guilt and leaves the salad untouched.

“Hey Lydia, did you hear us?”

“Of course!” She sputters, wait what?” “Uh no…”

Stiles gets very excited. He’s about to ramble, she can just tell. His arms start flailing and Lydia scoots away from him.

“Scott, our beautiful friend, our alpha--

“Louder please, I want everyone to know”

“Is basically an incomplete hallow wreck of a man. Devoid of soul, really.”

“Uhhhhhhhh…..” Lydia looks at Scott. He does look sad, but don’t they all?

“Yeah. He hasn’t seen Star Wars” Stiles finishes, as if, duh! “You have to come! Partake in the marathon.”

Lydia has plans. Well okay. She was gonna carry around Allison’s crossbow again and continue to watch the OC will thinking very loudly about Allison appearing.

“You have to come Lydia, “ Scott says softly, like it really matters.

“Lydia. You’re our only hope!” Stiles cajoles, draping his arm around her. He really needs to chill with the cologne. But she doesn’t really mind the arm.

“I am not Obi Wan Kenobi!” Lydia glares at these two stupid boys, her boys, kind of “Fine!”

And then she feels guilty for agreeing to have fun. This whole grief thing is the fucking worst.

[plplotttplot]

muse a is five months pregnant living with their boyfriend, muse c. the pregnancy was accidental but being that they were committed to each other, they decided to have the child and make it work. even though they’re barely making ends meet and are hanging on a thin thread, muse a is confident she and muse c will make it. until she comes home one day and finds that muse c is gone-their belongings gone. the only trace of them left is a sticky note on the refrigerator in muse c’s handwriting saying ‘sorry. i can’t do this anymore.’ muse a is devastated and doesn’t know how they’re gonna deliver and raise this child on their own. in steps muse b, muse a’s childhood friend. muse b had always loved muse a, but had stepped back when muse c had come into the picture. furious that muse c has left muse aalone, muse b moves in with muse a to help take care of her and make sure her pregnancy goes smoothly. soon muse b is taking care of the bills, going to pregnancy classes with muse a, and generally taking over the role muse c left behind. muse a is now starting to see muse b in a different light and is falling for them quickly, and muse b is still as enamored with muse a as ever but doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries-after all, he’s not the baby’s father.

plot twist—

on the day muse a goes into labor, muse c suddenly shows up crying and begging muse a to take them back and let them be the father to their baby. muse a is now caught between muse b, who they’ve come to love romantically, and muse c, the father of their newborn child.

muse a is your typical, spoiled rotten rich girl who doesn’t take no for an answer. you’d expect her parents to be rude and snotty just like their daughter but that couldn’t be further away from the truth, they’re humble because they didn’t come from wealthy families, they worked hard for it. but because they gave muse aeverything she wanted growing up, she couldn’t help but be a brat. she constantly spent her parents’ money like it was nothing and never bothered to say thank you. deciding that she needed a reality check, they told her that she was going to spend her summer soaking up the sun in the bahamas and that they were sending her on a private jet. of course muse a was ecstatic, but when the plane landed, she was no where near bahamas. instead, she was at an airport in oklahoma, being picked up by muse b’s family who decided to be her host. her credit cards were immediately cancelled and her phone was cut off. she couldn’t get back on the plane, she would be staying with them at their farm for the entire summer and she had no choice but to work on the farm, do chores, and things that she never had to do before. muse b can’t stand muse a, he thinks she’s lazy, stuck up, and annoying. he thinks she’s a complete bitch with no emotions, which is why he’s surprised when he finds muse acrying by the lake one night.

       MUSE A and MUSE B are both in high school. She’s a star student, marvellous dancer, and dating the star lacrosse player at school. Over all, she’s the girl everybody either wants to bang or become. MUSE B is the bad boy — brooding, handsome, and reckless. He brings out the rebellious side in MUSE A, challenges her and makes her want to step outside her boundaries. They’re ‘friends with benefits'— the moment the dismissal bell rings, MUSE A tears away her pantyhose, hikes up her skirt, and heads straight to his car, they fuck, and after that go at it once again at his house, until they’re finally laying sans clothing on top of one another smoking a joint. But they’re both afraid of committing to one another — MUSE A has got a boyfriend, and MUSE B would rather jump off a cliff rather than go steady. I just wants lots of fights, sex, and then the occasional cute shit where he tries to get her attention when she’s with her boyfriend. Think Chuck and Blair.

MUSE A and MUSE B have known each forever, literally. Their mum’s were best friends, they grew up together, were inseparable for a large portion of their earlier life. It’s not until junior year of high school where things go wary. MUSE A shows up as a completely transformed girl. In other words? She’s a total babe. MUSE B on the other hand remains true to himself — sitting at lunch with his face hidden in a comic book. MUSE A in her determination to become the biggest thing, is now dating the hottest guy at school — he’s a douchebag, but she claims she loves him. Over the last two years, she’s developed some questionable habits. She parties way too much for her own good, hammered before midnight, smoking a joint — it’s her way to fit in, and her way to rebel against her family’s high expectations. Meanwhile, the two haven’t necessarily stopped being friends, their friendship has just faded into the background. MUSE A will call MUSE B, three am, drunk out of her mind, for a pick me up. MUSE B after all this time can’t say no to her, he picks her up, gets her home, helps her clean up before putting her into bed. He does it because he loves her, really loves her. Whereas, she’s just a hot, selfish mess. I want unrequited love, please.

How about a plot about two high schoolers who get held back and have to repeat senior year. MUSE A is a straight A student and teachers pet who had to miss most of the year due to medical issues, and MUSE B is a delinquent who failed most of their classes and has to redo them. They never would have hung out last year, but now they’re the only ones left from their old class and the new senior class is filled with obnoxious pricks, so they sit together at lunch. MUSE Abecomes determined to tutor MUSE B and get them to graduation, but MUSE Bis more concerned with getting into their pants.

muse a is a new single father, a teenager at that living in an apartment complex with his newborn. it’s one of those apartment complexes in new york city, where everyone kind of keeps to themselves. muse b lives on his floor and has heard this newborn baby crying at ungodly hours, distracting her from her cramming for midterms. she had complained to the landlord about it and one night, she hears the baby crying again. stepping outside in a fit of rage, muse b is about to yell at whoever is the parent to this bastard child until she spots muse a, pacing the hallway with the child in his arms, his hair disheveled and his eyes giving away the sleep he’s been lacking. she feels sympathy instantly; she had no idea muse a lived on her floor, much less was he the father of this child. so, at 3 in the morning, muse b offers to help muse a get the baby back to sleep. and muse b becomes some sort of baby whisperer to muse a, and he continues to go to her for help and they start to dig each other and this is just so cute please

so Muse A is a broke ass college student who is struggling to even eat each day and is working two jobswhile still in school. Muse B is a CEO of a large corporation and a multi-millionaire. One night Muse Awas scrolling through the internet and finds a website that sets you up with potential sugar daddiesandMuse B sends Muse A a message right away and basically says if you come live with me for the summer and pretend to be in a relationship with me and ocassionally give me head or something like that, I’ll fucking take care of you