#i think his drill that was a little bit illegal was fantastic

[catmaidetho]

i LOVE how tubbo's qsmp videos are just. him going insane over the create mod. this server has all sorts of shit going on, and he could not care less, he has a factory to build

[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x16 - What happens in Vegas... (part 1 of part 1) Enjoy!

Cut to - The Salvatore mansion family room, present day. Damon is watching Bonnie sleep. She wakes up slowly…

BONNIE: Ian?

DAMON: Ian? Who the heck is Ian? And tell me where he is, so I can kick his ass!

BONNIE: (Smiles) Sorry, had the craziest dream… And your name was Ian, for some screwed up reason…

DAMON: Oh, okay… then Ian is cool in my book! (Smirks and gives her a kiss).

BONNIE: What time is it?

DAMON: Almost 3pm…

BONNIE: What! Oh my god! I had to be at the airport an hour ago to meet Elena! Shit! Shit!

DAMON: Uhm… Bon… don’t you remember?

BONNIE: Remember what?

DAMON: About Elena…

BONNIE: What about Elena?

DAMON: Her flight got canceled; she got another one straight to Vegas. You don’t remember?

BONNIE: I do, I do… Told you, strange dream… I’m still a bit drowsy.

DAMON: Well, she won’t be able to help you bring all that “bachelorette” stuff. But the bachelor boys are heading the same way; I’m sure we can fit some of it; just promise me there’s nothing illegal in those bags.

BONNIE: (Mischievous smile) I can’t promise you that…

Cut to – Two days later, somewhere in the middle of the Mojave desert. Damon, who looks like hell, is dialing on his cell. Behind him, a crashed police car with Alaric, Iker, and Kai inside; also looking like crap. They are wearing nothing but their underwear.

 DAMON: Care, it’s Damon… Listen ...The bachelor party got a little crazy and, well...we lost Stefan.

BONNIE: Uhm…think we might have a problem of our own…

DAMON: Bon?

BONNIE: It’s me, I think… Anyway; the bachelorette got a little crazy too, and, well… we lost Caroline.

Cut to – A couple of hours earlier. A Sky Villa at the Palms Casino Resort. 

Damon wakes up confused, he is lying on the bathroom floor, drool coming out of his mouth, brain drilling headache. His vision is blurry, but he manages to recognize a familiar face, lying inside an empty bathtub, completely passed out. The familiar face is Kai, dressed in what seems to be a ballerina tutu. 

He stares at him for a minute, wondering why he is there… not in the bathtub, but in Vegas; he hadn’t been invited. Oh well, he’ll figure it out later. For now, he needs to do an overall casualty assessment. He gets up slowly, holding on to whatever is at hand. He eventually gains the balance to find his way out of the bathroom, and into the living room. The place is a war zone, the hotel bill won’t be cheap! Amongst the debris of the previous night, he searches for other survivors… 

Soon enough he finds Alaric, also passed out, half of his body hanging over the piano, which, to Damon’s surprise, a monkey seems to be playing.

DAMON: What the…  (shushes the monkey away from the piano, shakes Alaric to wake him up, no response… He hears a sound coming from a mount of sofa cushions and clothes; someone is under there… it’s Iker, who slowly fights his way out).

IKER: (Looking messed up and disoriented) Hey, man… (looks around, grabs his head) What the hell happened last night?

DAMON: Beats me… I can barely remember my own name… 

(Alaric wakes up suddenly, holding his hands up in a cheer).

ALARIC: Jackpot, bitches!!!!!!!!!!! (He realizes he has no idea where he is, or making any sense). Hey, guys… where am I? What are we doing here?  

DAMON: (Sarcastic) Oh, boy… I have a feeling this is gonna be fun!

(Kai walks out of the bathroom, passes them by, but apparently doesn’t notice they are there, and goes into the master bedroom, throws himself on the bed. Just as he gets comfy, he realizes something is very wrong… 

There is an elephant in the room; literally. Jumps up, screams like a little girl, runs out of the room and shuts the door).

KAI: Holy shit! There’s an elephant in the room!

DAMON: I’d say you’re right, stalker boy. What the hell are you doing here?

KAI: … I have no idea, but I swear, there is an elephant in that room!

DAMON: Are you sure it isn’t Stefan? He can look pretty scary in the morning…

(Goes to check it out, vamps back about a second later) Nop, that ain’t Stefan… and there is definitely an elephant in the room... (takes a drink).

ALARIC: So, where is Stefan? And, why the hell is he (referring to Kai) here!

DAMON: Ric, I think we have more important things to focus on right now… Like, for example, there is a freakin elephant in the room! It’s a baby elephant, yes, but still, a freaking elephant! Those things are dangerous! Oh, and I’m pretty sure there’s also a loose monkey somewhere around here! What the hell did we do last night? Rob a zoo?!

IKER: The only thing I have a vague memory of, is a steakhouse, a casino… a strip joint?

KAI: That pretty much describes all of Las Vegas, so, not a lot to go on.

DAMON: Okay, okay, I’m sure we can figure this out.

ALARIC: Let’s just find Stefan and get the hell out of here, before they put us in jail.

DAMON: Fine. Shouldn’t take too long. Ric and I will check every corner of the villa. Iker, you and psycho boy check around the hotel… restaurant, pool area, casino, etc.

IKER: (To Kai) Think you can keep up, princess?

KAI: (He hadn’t noticed he was wearing a tutu until this moment; he looks at Damon) This was definitely your doing! (Takes the tutu off).

DAMON: (Sarcastic smirk) Probably… Okay, let’s move.

 (They search everywhere, Stefan is nowhere to be found. They teamback at the villa).

 ALARIC: Well, we’ve searched everywhere, he’s not here. (Sarcastic) This is great! The wedding is tomorrow, our plane leaves in a couple of hours, and we are missing the groom... 

We should call Caroline, maybe he ditched us and joined the girl’s party.

DAMON: And if he didn’t?

ALARIC: They can help us find him.

DAMON: Did you get brain damage last night?! 

No way we are calling Caroline! I’d like to live a long and happy life with my Bon-Bon, so, not an option!  Just chill, we’ll find him. He couldn’t have gone that far… it’s Stefan, he’s probably hunting bunnies. All we have to do is retrace our steps from last night, and we’ll find him.

ALARIC: The main issue being… none of us seem to remember anything about last night!

KAI: (Coming from another part of the room) Okay, I just called reception, they assure there is no Stefan Salvatore at any of the area hospitals, morgues, or police stations…

DAMON: No shit, Sherlock, he is a vampire! Of course he wouldn’t be in any of those places…

IKER: Wait… a police car… I remember we were in a police car!

DAMON: Ooh, that can’t be good…

KAI: Oh, oh, oh, no, no, no… (looks at his hand) This can’t be good either (shows them a very tacky ring).

DAMON: Come on, that’s just your daylight ring.

KAI: No, no… I don’t need a ring for that… which means this is … (takes the ring off, sees it’s engraved) most definitely a wedding ring!  

ALARIC: Who the hell would be crazy enough to marry you?!!

IKER: (Cracking up) Shit, this too funny…

DAMON: (Takes the ring from Kai, reads the inscription) “To my knight in shining armour, from your damsel in distress” - Cupid’s Wedding Chapel. Well, boys, I believe we have a lead… 

We need to go to this chapel, ask them if they remember us; and if Stefan was with us.

KAI: And who the hell I married!

DAMON: (Sarcastically) Oh, I’m sure she’s a lovely gal.

ALARIC: I’ll get us an uber…

Cut to – Cupid’s Wedding Chapel. 

As soon as they walk in, the receptionist recognizes them.

RECEPTIONIST: Oh, shit! You guys are back!? Please, just no stealing the “King’s” costume this time!

DAMON: You remember us?

RECEPTIONIST: Of course I remember you! You guys are crazy! Specially you, damsel (winks at Kai). Where are the other three?

ALARIC: What other three? We are only missing one…

RECEPTIONIST: Uhm, no you aren’t; there were seven of you. You four… the wolf man, the cop, and the handsome hero hair guy.

DAMON: So Stefan was here with us, that’s a start!

ALARIC: And, apparently, Matt and Tyler too… So, not only did we lose the groom, we managed to loose two members of the wedding party. (Sarcastic) Fantastic!

KAI: Listen, I really need you to tell me who I married last night...

RECEPTIONIST: Sure, you married Whitney Houston; you lucky bastard!

KAI: What!? I mean, I love me some Whitney, but, really? She married me?

RECEPTIONIST: (Looking confused, and a bit sorry for him) 

Well, an impersonator, obviously. The real Whitney has been dead for a while. Boy, your hang-over must really be screwing with you.

IKER: Don’t these places usually offer packages? Like photo albums and stuff…

RECEPTIONIST: We sure do.

IKER: Did we, or he (referring to Kai), buy any?

RECEPTIONIST: The whole nine yards. I thought that’s why you guys came back. (Takes out a box of wedding souvenirs and a photo album) Look… mugs, crystal balls, pins, key chains…

DAMON: Let’s go straight for the album… (They go through the photos. Some are “somewhat” normal...

Others, go along these lines…  Kai, dressed as a ballerina, and the bride dressed as a noble knight. Stefan, wearing an Elvis outfit, mastering every single one of his iconic poses. Iker and Damon playing catch with the bride’s bouquet. Alaric, sneaking about, in full Indiana Jones mission. Matt, riding an inflatable unicorn, role-playing to be the Lone Ranger. Tyler, on all fours, howling).

DAMON: (Terrified at the pics they just saw) Oh god… I don’t even want to know...

ALARIC: (Sharing the sentiment) Oh, fuck no... apparently, I was the one to walk Kai down the aisle… Those pictures really need to be destroyed….

RECEPTIONIST: I’m telling you… you guys are totally insane!

ALARIC: You don’t happen to know where we were heading when we left here, do you?

RECEPTIONIST: No. But you did mention something about settling a debt; getting Britney Spears back for something…

ALARIC: Britney Spears?

RECEPTIONIST: Yep; the hero hair guy kept going on and on, about her owing him big time; and that he was going to collect… And you (referring to Damon) kept saying “It’s Britney, bitch!” That’s all I got, hope it helps. (Alaric looks at Damon to see if he remembers anything from hearing that …)

DAMON: Sorry, man, I’m at a blank…

IKER: Wait… I think I’m getting a flashback… of you (referring to Damon), strip dancing to “Gimme More”?

DAMON: No… I’d never strip dance to that! Britney Spears? Nice try, but nop.

KAI: Oh, come on, everyone loves Britney!  

ALARIC: I think I remember that… God, please, take that image out of my head! Of all things, that’s what you chose for me to remember?! Have some mercy!  

DAMON: If I did… I probably rocked it (winks and smirks).

IKER: Okay, I’m definitely gonna need therapy after this trip.

ALARIC: Well, we got all the information we are going to get from this place; and I don’t think I want to find out more. So, what’s next?

DAMON: I say we pay Miss Spears a visit…

ALARIC: First, no one would ever let us be less than 300 feet from her. Second, that’s ridiculous; she is obviously not involved, aside from you stripping to her songs. What we need to find is that strip joint we apparently went to after, or before, this place.

IKER: (Who has stumbled upon a box of matches in his pocket) Maybe this can help… (shows them a very tacky match box, which reads: Mystic Divas.

Cut to – Mystic Divas strip joint. The place, given the hour, is obviously closed. Just as they are about to leave, a woman, wearing Whitney’s “Queen of the Night” outfit, spots them as they are about to leave.

 LADY: My princess! (Runs to hug Kai and kisses him) Why you bail on me last night?! Thought we were having fun!

KAI: Uhm… I’m guessing you are, my knight in shining armour?  

LADY: Sure am! Till death do us part… (Sees Kai’s terrified face and laughs) Don’t worry, it was only pretend, honey, nothing permanent. We were both really drunk and thought it would be fun.

DAMON: (Sarcastic) Aw…what a love story! (To the lady) Sweetheart, you think you can help us put some dots together?

LADY: I can, but there is no way I’m letting you on my stage again. And, don’t call me sweetheart.

ALARIC: So, we were here last night?

LADY: Physically, yes. But I’m not sure any other part came along. Y’all were completely wasted.

IKER: All, meaning us four; or were there more?

LADY: Shit! You really don’t remember anything?

DAMON: (Trying to avoid the whole Britney strip thing) Nop!

LADY: Well… you were all here; plus the other three dudes.

ALARIC: I’m assuming that was before “the wedding”?

LADY: Yes. This is where (looks at Kai) we fell in love. But we came back here after the reception. Well, only me, my hubby; you fine looking thang (referring to Iker), and you, the ultimate party pooper (referring to Alaric). Don’t know where the rest of you went. All I know, is that my princess here, pulled a runaway bride after he got a call, and you two (referring to Iker and Alaric), left along with him.

ALARIC: Do you know around what time that was?

LADY: I’d say three-ish? Anyway, I have to go (kisses Kai on the cheek) It was lovely being your wife for the night. Good luck boys! (Leaves).

IKER: Not bad, psycho boy, she’s hot!

KAI: (Proud smirk) Totally hot!

ALARIC: Kinda reminded me of…

DAMON: (Before Ric says the name, he knows he’s going to say, he changes the conversation) Kai, check your phone…

KAI: (Rubbing it in his face) What... she remind oyu of someone, Damon?

DAMON: Please, you wish! 

Now, check your freaking phone!

KAI: Fine, fine… (looks at his received calls; sure enough he has an inbound call, from an unknown number, at 3:13 am) Well… Yep; I received a call, clueless about the caller, but seems like we had a lot to talk about, call lasted 20 minutes…

DAMON: (Sarcastic) Gee, I wonder how we can find out who the mystery caller is?

KAI: We could try to hack into the local police system, they have a huge database. Except, we’ll need a computer, preferably a stolen one so it’s untraceable…

IKER: (Also sarcastic) Or, maybe just call the number?

KAI: Of course I was gonna do that first! I was just thinking ahead, in case we get no answer. Amateurs! 

(Calls the number…) What a surprise… no answer! Oh, wait… (someone answers: Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital, how can I help you? Hangs-up immediately).

DAMON: So, who was it?! Why did you hang up!!

KAI: Ooh, I’m getting a bad feeling…

ALARIC: Give me that (takes the phone from his hand, calls the number… Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital, how can I help you? Hangs-up immediately) Shit…

DAMON: So, who the hell was it?!

ALARIC: Not who, but what…

DAMON: Ric, I’m too hung-over to be playing guessing games.

ALARIC: Does anyone remember anything about a psychiatric hospital?

DAMON: Now, that’s definitely a place Stefan could be at…

KAI: Specially if he was found hunting bunnies…

DAMON: Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go one flew over the cuckoo’s nest…

ALARIC: I’ll get us another uber…

IKER: Wait… 

Uber! Of course! I can’t believe we didn’t think of that! Everyone, check your phones for any trips we took last night.

DAMON: Duh! Man, we are really out of it!  (They check their phones…) Well, I have one at 5:30, from the hotel to the Andiamo Italian Steakhouse, downtown. And another one at 7:40, from the steakhouse to the Bellagio… That’s it.

IKER: I have one, from the Bellagio to Mystic Divas at 1:06am.

KAI: As for me, one, at 3:33am, from Mystic Divas to the Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital…

ALARIC: I don’t have any from last night.

DAMON: Okay, so far, our best bet at finding Stefan is at that psych hospital. Let’s move.

 TVD 9x16 (part 2 of part 1) coming very soon! Hope you stop by, read, and enjoy! =)

P.S Had to split it into more parts otherwise it would be too long for one post per part. 

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 3.4

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Three - If not for the courage of the fearless crew – Part 4

Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3

Author: Gumnut

29 Dec 2019 - 4 Jan 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 4342

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D I hope you enjoy it.

I’m probably posting this before it is ready and I’m not happy with the ending so may change where it ends when I start writing the next part, but I really need a little cheering up today, so here be the next 4000-odd words of this fic. I hope you enjoy them :D

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

They stashed their luggage in the hostel, a large white and wooden building that had obviously seen many residents over the years, but was well loved and maintained.

Melissa gave them a quick tour of the compound. It consisted of series of buildings similar to the hostel but of varying sizes over looking the ocean and the adjacent Oneraki Beach. The island was basically a triangle with the encampment on the north facing side high up on Fleetwood Bluff. There was something about a Flagstaff but Virgil missed it...mainly due to the conversation Gordon and Sam were laughing over behind him.

Whatever it was called, the view was magnificent. Far below in the bay, A Little Lightning was a small white smudge on the blue of the Pacific.

Melissa ran them through the rules of conduct on the island. No one was to venture anywhere on the island outside the compound unaccompanied by a DOC employee. Please keep your luggage inside the hostel. All life is protected on the island and in the waters. It was illegal to damage or remove anything. No littering. The list went on.

It was a long one.

Apart from being a cetacean biologist and a loud talker, Sam was also apparently the resident cook on the island. Melissa put no claim to any culinary skills, so had left it to Sam.

The man had baked a cake.

A Christmas cake.

In their isolation on the boat, despite their aim to be home for Christmas, Virgil had forgotten it was the day before Christmas Eve. December twenty-three.

It wasn’t the first time he had forgotten Christmas. Three years ago he had spent Christmas dragging survivors off the Amazon flood plain when the river engulfed an entire city. Christmas had been obliterated. As had the two months after due to the damn fever he had caught from those flood waters. It hadn’t been a great start to the year.

But this year it was different. They were on vacation. A forced vacation, but a vacation nonetheless, of which the whole purpose was to get home in time for Christmas. Yet the decorations and the tree in the corner of the communal hall had taken him by surprise.

The cake was very nice. He had to hold Alan back from grabbing seconds. But it got him thinking about the day after next and what they would be doing as a family.

“He sang to the whales?!”

Virgil jumped at Sam’s exclamation somewhere behind him.

“Yeah, he did. You should have heard it. It was incredible.” Virgil’s eyes widened at the pride in Gordon’s voice.

“They didn’t pay any attention, though, did they? All previous attempts have failed.”

“Ho, Sam, I have to show you the recordings. They responded alright. Virg may not speak whale, but he knows how to speak emotion. Mamma whale definitely understood something.”

Virgil buried his face in his coffee. The experience was still raw. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it and it was inevitable that he would be asked.

“What did he use?” And the conversation dropped to normal levels. Virgil’s name was mentioned several times along with John’s. Sam was eager and excited.

Virgil felt dread.

“You okay, bro?” Alan was frowning at him while hoovering the second piece of cake Virgil had already told him he couldn’t have.

Why did he bother?

“So I guess we’ll be hauling in extra food supplies for these people after you’ve finished with them.”

“It was one piece of cake.”

“It’s the only cake, Alan.”

His brother’s eyes widened in realisation. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

“I’ll bring them something before New Years.”

“Yes, you will.”

“Or maybe Scott can. He might want to visit.”

“What? Why?” But Alan was gesturing with his head in the direction of their eldest brother.

Deep in conversation with Melissa Fisher.

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

-o-o-o-

“So by claiming for twenty one instead of twenty volunteers we get just that extra bit of funding.”

“Clever move.” Scott had finished his cake and was drinking tea. Virgil had shot him an incredulous look when he asked for it, but if there was one thing Scott remembered about this place, it was the herbal tea. Melissa knew how to brew a great drink...even if she had to threaten him and his father to try it the first time.

“Are you still using Jack Dunning?”

“Oh, yes, the man is brilliant. And he does all our work pro bono which saves us so much. Thank you for the recommendation.”

Scott was not going to mention one Gordon Tracy jumping up and down in front of him one afternoon several years ago. His aquanaut brother had been apoplectic and at the end of a very sharp conversation, Scott had been more than willing to call in their lawyers to act on behalf of the DOC Kermadec Expedition. The fishery megacorporation challenging the validity of the Sanctuary hadn’t known what hit them.

And if Scott wanted Jack to send him all the bills, that was his prerogative. Melissa didn’t have to know everything.

“So how is Virgil?” It was a quiet question as she picked up her own cup of tea.

He eyed her a moment. He was well aware of her attraction to his brother. Gordon had made a point of stirring Virgil until his quiet brother had clapped him around the ears.

“He’s recovering. I’ll be happier when he is home.”

She eyed him as if considering whether she should breach a topic or not. Something flickered in her eyes. “How goes Tracy Island? Is the regrowth flourishing as we hoped?”

He thought back at the tracts of native vegetation his father had planted all those years ago, mostly on the other side of the island, though some covered scars from the IR excavations.The pōhutukawa and palm trees seemed to be okay, but his mind was usually on other things when he ran past them.

He shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t know. You could ask Gordon?”

She peered closer at him. “Are you okay?”

He straightened where he sat. “I’m good.” He stretched. “Got any recommendations for a good place to run? Need to stretch my legs.”

She swallowed the last of her drink. “I can show you.”

“No need, just point me in the right direction and I’ll find my way.”

A snort. “You’re not on Tracy Island, Commander. No visitors go unaccompanied on Raoul, remember. You’ve got a choice between me and Sam.” A smirk. “And you won’t get much distance out of him unless you prefer swimming.”

Internally he groaned. He had been looking forward to time alone.

“I can show you around the crater rim. You’ll get a great workout.”

The thought of finding the physical relief was just too tempting. The hike up the hill had been a teaser and he wanted more. He sculled the last of his tea. “Fine. Lead the way.” He hoped she could keep up.

Her smile was a challenge in itself. “I’ll go grab my running gear. Meet you out front in ten.”

“FAB.”

-o-o-o-

Gordon watched as Scott stood up, brushed past Virgil and said something, before following Mel out the door.

“Do you think Virgil would be willing to talk about his experience?”

Gordon glanced at Sam and then eyed his brother. His linen shirt was tight across his shoulders as the man hunched over his coffee. “I don’t know.”

“Can you ask?” Sam was all eagerness. It was understandable. The surfer had made cetaceans his life’s work and this was a fantastic opportunity.

A sucked in breath. “Leave it with me, I’ll see what I can do.”

-o-o-o-

John, drink in hand, had taken the opportunity to find himself a vantage point on the cliff. The island was very quiet, even quieter than Tracy Island was at times and considerably bigger.

He appreciated the solitude.

Of course, the boat hadn’t exactly been loud or even crowded. He truly enjoyed the time with his brothers. But it was nice to step away, even if only for a little time.

He parked himself in the long grass at the edge of the bluff and stared out into the blue of the Pacific.

An idle thought.

“Eos?”

“Hello, John.”

“Hello, Eos. Status?”

“All emergency calls are being fielded by the appropriate agencies. Mr Lemaire has entombed himself in ice at the South Pole in an attempt to locate Santa Claus. I have advised the GDF. He is safe and secure for the moment.”

John’s thoughts locked up for a second. “The South Pole? Santa Claus lives in the North Pole.”

“Ignoring the fact that Santa Claus is a myth, Mr Lemaire claimed that ‘the North Pole is an ocean and only an idiot would build a house on an ice floe that melts every summer, therefore he must be hidden at the South Pole.’ He planned to be the first human to interview the father of Christmas and used a specialised drilling machine to dig into the ice...which promptly collapsed on him twenty metres down.”

John sighed. “You are sure he is safe?”

“Colonel Casey has sent a specialist team. He and his wife have enough survival supplies to make it through to New Years if necessary.”

“Monitor the situation. Call us in only if there is no alternative.” A trip to the South Pole was something they did not need.

“FAB, John.”

“And how are you?”

“I am functioning well.”

“Do you have any results from the problem I set you?”

“I have analysed three thousand two hundred and twenty-three recordings of humpback whale communications. Unfortunately, many of the recordings are missing the lower frequencies as the equipment used was not sufficient. I do have some translation possibilities, however I am still calculating multiple variables and am hesitant to postulate a theory.”

He had expected as much. She had only been working on it for a few hours. “Are you enjoying the work?” To be honest, he wasn’t expecting a positive result. It did, however, keep a bored AI occupied.

“It is very interesting. Virgil’s response shows no pattern relative to the language he was attempting to respond to, yet he received a result.”

“I suspect there is an element of synergy in the language that enables it to become more than a sum of its parts. Perhaps that is what Virgil was able to tap into.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, John.”

John sucked in a breath. “You are a computer program, yet you are more than lines of code, you are a person. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps this language is a step beyond simple complexity. Perhaps the elements combined create a new level of communication? One that is not entirely on the conscious level.”

His daughter was silent for a moment. “How does interpretation differ between the human conscious and subconscious? The literature claims a lack of cognitive recognition of events created or observed subconsciously. How could Virgil create something he is not aware of?”

“There is much we do not yet understand. The human subconscious is well known for gathering multiple observed factors and combining them into instinct, all without conscious control. Perhaps you should explore that region of research?” Come to think of it, Virgil’s instincts in the field were very sharp. There were multiple examples of his brother acting against orders and ultimately saving lives that otherwise would have been lost, including those of his brothers.

“I will, John, thank you.”

“You are welcome.” His lips curled into a smile. “Enjoy yourself.”

-o-o-o-

It was amazing to finally get his feet moving.

Scott’s shoes pounded volcanic dust and rock so familiar it was almost as if he was home. A regular thud-thud-thud, the sea breeze, the rock, the vegetation...energy flowed through him and was used, muscles firing, skin tingling in the afternoon air. God, it was so good to get out.

Melissa said nothing to him beyond directing which path to take. She had removed her DOC uniform, reducing her clothing to a tight crop top, shorts and running shoes, and if he was honest, he had to admit he was appreciating the view.

The woman was all slim muscle. Tight waist, lightly browned skin. Her pale hair bounced behind her in a hastily tied ponytail and he found himself following it as she leapt from path to rock and over logs.

She had no trouble keeping up. In fact, it was more the other way around. He had to work to keep up with her, despite the difference in stride. She knew exactly where she was going and she was offering no handicap.

They pushed up a steep incline for some time. She had taken them off the main track and deep into the forest. Birds sung all around and the wind rustled through the blossoming trees. The pōhutukawa were in their brilliant crimson Christmas flowers, festooning the island as if to decorate for the season.

Grandma loved the pōhutukawa trees on Tracy Island and was in fact the only reason he knew the name of the plant. She cut flowers every year for their Christmas table to acknowledge the beautiful piece of land they lived on.

They reminded him of home.

This whole island reminded him of home.

Melissa ran around a particularly large tree and he followed only to come to a screeching halt as the path suddenly changed direction. A huge crater appeared in front of him.

Melissa was running on the spot. She nodded down at the lake at the bottom of the volcanic bowl. “Blue Lake.”

And it was.

A stunning, almost unnatural cobalt blue. He stared down at it, panting from his exertions. His thin grey tank top clung to his sweaty body.

She grinned at him before darting off along the crater rim.

Hmmm. An indrawn breath and he took off after her.

The crater wasn’t massive on a volcanic scale, but it was impressive nonetheless. The late afternoon sun shadowed the mountain, emphasising the extremes of the landscape.

“The far lake is Green Lake.” Melissa had stopped and was running on the spot again. A fine sheen of perspiration glistened on her skin.

He did know the geography, he had flown over the island often enough, but this perspective was considerably different. “It’s beautiful.” Not unlike its caretaker.

The random thought shook him out of contemplation and forced himself to look out at the smaller green lake in the distance.

Where the hell had that come from? A sideways glance in her direction and he found her gaze caught on the spectacle before them, her love for the island obvious.

Well, he had to admit that he did have his own island love. Just not this island.

“C’mon, slow poke, let’s up the pace.” And she darted off into the forest again.

Really?

Thighs pumping, he followed her under the trees, down the slope a little before he found himself climbing again.

She called back to him from several metres in front. “Got a full body workout coming up. I hope you’re up to it.” Her grin bounced down the mountain and off his head.

She was challenging him? Well, he had been known to hang off rocket ships and climb vertical cliff faces. Bring it on.

She did.

The path dissolved. There was no other real word for it. It became a mass of black jagged volcanic rocks, interspersed with tree regrowth.

“This was dumped here last time Virgil yanked us off the Island.” Her words were interspersed with harsh breathing as she clambered over the obstacle. As he climbed the crater once again came into view and the scar in the side of the mountain became clear.

Wow.

There was a swath of dead forest dotted with regrowth. He remembered Virgil’s report. The footage had involved billowing smoke and steam, but his brother had confined most of his readings to the encampment, his concern more for the lives endangered than any geological happenings. Brains had taken readings and read GeoNet’s reports as he did for any activity on the Kermadec Ridge, but he had reported it small and unremarkable.

Looked far more remarkable in person.

Melissa reached the top of the pile of rock and finally stopped.

He was grateful. The woman knew how to push it. He clambered up the last few and stood next to her.

The view was magnificent.

“She risks our lives, but I have to say she is beautiful.” Her love was there again, in her eyes. It was a similar expression to what he saw on Gordon’s face when he stared out across the ocean.

“You love this island, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

She turned to stare at him and he realised that her eyes were a startling multicoloured grey. “I love this place. It’s mountains, its plants, its ocean, its everything. It is one of the truly saved places on our planet. There aren’t many left.” She shrugged. “I’m just lucky to be able to experience it and contribute my little bit of help.”

He snorted. “Even I know what you are doing is anything but little. You’ve expanded the Sanctuary by hundreds of kilometres since you’ve been here.”

Her gaze turned back to him. “You’ve been reading up on me?”

Half a grin. “I like to know who I am dealing with.”

She arched an eyebrow. “And what did you find, Commander?”

His smile spread. “Someone remarkable.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil hid for the rest of the afternoon. He slunk away to the hostel, found himself a bed and curled up. At some point, he heard a brother open the door to the communal room and another brother, Alan maybe, mutter something, but they went away and he was glad for it.

The wood of the building creaked in the sun and birds squawked almost continually, but despite, or perhaps because of the soundscape, he fell into a much better sleep than he had had the entire week. Deep and complete.

The sun was heading towards the horizon when he woke, yellowing rays cutting across the hostel windows, turning the white paintwork gold.

Gordon was in the room, fossicking through a bag. “G’don?” He blinked and screwed up his face.

“Hey, Virg! Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No. Don’t think so?”

“How are you feeling?”

Virgil rolled over and pushed himself up, sitting on the side of the bed. He rubbed his hands over his face. “Okay, I guess.”

His brother snorted. “I’ll ask you again in half an hour after coffee and brain activation.”

The grunt he sent in the aquanaut’s direction only proved his point.

“Sam is very interested in what you did today.”

Crap. Another grunt.

That earned him a querying look. Virgil had no idea what his brother expected. If a simple question about how he was feeling was a stumbler, the complex concepts involving what had happened earlier in the day were a complete brain frier.

“You up for dinner?” Gordon was suddenly sitting on the bed next to him. When had he moved? “Sam’s dragged out the barbecue. Claims he wants to test the theory of ‘throwing a prawn on the barbie’. Apparently, as an Australian he’s never cooked a shrimp on a barbecue before.” As if to punctuate the statement, the smell of cooking meat wafted in through the window.

Virgil stared at his brother.

“They had to import the shrimp for Christmas.”

The staring continued.

“They’re throwing a party because we’re here and using their Christmas supplies to do it...why the hell are you staring at me like that?”

Virgil didn’t answer him. He just wrapped an arm around him and hugged Gordon to his side.

His brother didn’t resist, but did look at him strangely. “You okay?”

“I’m good.”

Gordon didn’t say anything further and for a moment they sat there together.

Virgil’s stomach rumbled.

Gordon snorted. “C’mon, bro, food awaits.” He slipped Virgil’s hold and, turning around, offered him a hand up.

Without another word, Virgil took it and stood up beside his brother, his hand landing on his shoulder and squeezing.

That earned him another questioning look, but he ignored it.

The grassed central area of the compound had been transformed both by the golden sunlight and the lights strung between the trees. Sam was standing in front of a sizzling barbecue, someone Virgil didn’t know, laughing and holding him close. Alan and John were deep in discussion with another new person. All three of them had drinks in hand. John’s hair flickered about as if it was on fire, the sun catching it as the breeze tossed it around. And Scott...

Virgil stared.

Scott was laughing his ass off.

With Melissa Fisher.

The two of them sat beside each other in a couple of deck chairs. His brother appearing more relaxed than Virgil had seen him in a long time.

“What happened?” It came out without thought.

“They went for a run. Came back friendly as can be. I think Scott may have fallen for her charms.”

Charms? The woman was a handful. Virgil wasn’t afraid to admit he found her a challenge. Her gratitude the last time he had airlifted her and her squad of staff and volunteers off Raoul had been...exuberant.

If Kayo hadn’t escorted her out of his cockpit, he wasn’t sure what he would have done. As it was, Gordon had ribbed him until he cracked and thwapped him one.

But Scott seemed almost enthusiastic. Despite himself, Virgil broke into a grin.

Gordon echoed it. “Yeah, it’s great to finally see him relaxing.”

Quiet. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

Gordon grabbed his arm and nudged him in the direction of a table piled with food and drink. “Let’s get you fuelled up so I can introduce you to Liam and Elspeth.”

Coffee, as always, solved a lot of problems and, hugging his mug like the lifeline it was, Virgil was introduced to Sam’s husband.

Liam turned out to be a meteorologist. Raoul was not only important as a wildlife sanctuary, but also supported this corner of the Pacific’s meteorological station, providing atmospheric readings crucial to both weather and climate studies.

Having no shortage of interest in weather conditions, both as a pilot and a rescue operative who often found himself in the extremes of all kinds of those conditions, Virgil fell into in a very interesting discussion regarding navigating tropical cyclones.

In appearance, Liam was taller than Sam, blond and much more reserved than his husband. Hell, it was almost like someone had grabbed John and Gordon, thrown their physical characteristics in a blender and then assembled Liam and Sam. Liam even had a similar flick of blond hair on his forehead that John had in his red hair.

Almost in contrast, where Liam was pale and tall, Elspeth was dark and petite. Long plaited black hair hung to her waist, her features in shades of sepia. The artist in him was quite drawn to her.

But not as much as his two starbound brothers, because Elspeth was an astronomer. She and Liam had been on the other side of the island earlier in the day collecting readings from the observatory. Something about a rogue object passing through the Solar System. Virgil lost the discussion at some point between the Oort cloud and the orbit of Jupiter. He kept getting distracted by Scott laughing.

Virgil hadn’t heard his brother laugh so freely in a long time. Melissa appeared to be enjoying herself. It was as if a bubble had surrounded them and cut them off from everyone else. Stuck in their own happy little world.

An irrational spark of envy and the inevitable smirk at his brother deploying his well played charms were all completely smothered by the happiness he felt seeing Scott finally relaxing and enjoying himself.

As the evening became night, Virgil continued to hover on the edges of conversation, more Gordon, Sam and Liam than John, Alan and Elspeth. The latter group’s discussion had dissolved into equations and while Virgil loved a good piece of math like any engineer, theoreticals were more than he was willing to think about right at the moment.

The food was delicious and he complimented Sam thoroughly. Liam smiled and waxed poetic about some of the meals his husband had cooked in the past. Sam blushed appropriately red on several occasions, setting Gordon off into ribbing the poor man.

A thumb in Gordon’s direction. “Ignore him, he’s just jealous. There are days on end where we don’t get time to cook a decent meal.”

“You don’t have a cook?” Sam was frowning.

“We have Grandma.” Gordon was smiling ruefully.

“She’s a good cook?”

Virgil cut in. “Grandma is the backbone of International Rescue.”

“Your grandmother works with you?”

“Often, yes.”

“A truly family business.”

“Yes, it is.”

The conversation fell quiet a moment and Virgil took a swig of the beer in his hand.

“So, how did you become a cetacean biologist?”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh, um, had an encounter, fell in love, now devoted to them forever.”

Liam snorted. “He asked about you and whales, not for our love story.”

His husband shrugged. “Pretty much the same story really. Found myself in dire straits off Waitpinga Beach while surfing, dolphin saved me.”

Gordon had obviously heard the story before. He grinned. “For a surfer, you really are crap at surfing.”

“It’s all about the image, Gordo. You know that.” But Sam was grinning as much as Gordon. “But on a more serious note,” and the grin turned into a mock glare at Virgil’s brother, “she saved my life. It was a big, life changing moment. Been saving the whales ever since.”

“I can understand that.” All the Tracys could understand that.

Sam sparked up, all eagerness and bright eyes. “So, you spoke to a whale today?”

-o-o-o-

End Day Three, Part Four

[moonfox281]

Hi I was wondering if you can write a one-shot or anything with mob wife au where Dick didnt realize he had a kink for Jason's scent until Jason went on a business trip and Dick is missing his husband but can only cling on the smell of Jason that still lingers on their bed. Then when Jason came back from the trip, they had some smoking hot scene together. That's all, thank you so much and I just want to say I really love your writing, your fics especially mob boss au. Keep up the good work.

Hehe, I love the way your mind works.

(Click here for AO3 link)

“I have business trip next week.”

Dick rolled on the bed and looked at Jason, brows quirked up. “Excuse me?”

Jason, in only his pants that hung loosely on his sculpted hips, switched on his legs and looked down like a kicked puppy. He had always looked good half naked. Dick enjoyed watching the way his ripped muscles buddle up, coiling like powerful waves of tropical ocean at the time of July.

“Honey,” Jason started, stopped, bit his lip, then tried again. “It’s only for 2 days, 3 at top.”

“I don’t care if it’s a whole damn month, you’ll miss John’s first day at school.”

“I know, and I don’t want that. Trust me, you and I, we’ve planned this for months. It’s just… job.”

Dick rolled his eyes, looking outside the window of their penthouse bedroom. To say he was disappointed was an understatement, but he knew Jason’s job. He remembered nights of the early years when Bruce skipped dinner or not even going home at all, leaving the 9 years old him alone wondering to himself if he was being abandoned again. In the end, had Jason’s illegal empire ever been different from a business enterprise?

They were all the same, just different customers, and different needs.

Jason crawled over on the bed, looming over him. His hand went up, sliding the hem of Dick’s robe open. “I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

“Oh, and how are you going to do that, Mr. Todd?”

Dick looked at him, tried to not let the way Jason’s eyes glowed get to him. He caught his hand, stopped it from sliding further on his skin, but Jason, the damn superhuman human he married, pushed him down the mattress and caged his wrists on the headboard.

“I can think of a few things, Mr. Todd.”

Dick had gotten used to being alone. Not lonely, but alone. His husband was an international crime organizer, and he went then and there every month. Trips to the airport were a casual thing to Dick by now, to the point he remembered every possible route and shortcut they could ever take. There was an alley right in the corner of Bull street that led to a secret underground way that went all the way to the airport fly gate, built and used only by the Red Hood elite gang members. Or there was this huge International Delivery Service facility right next to the airport, that was actually a front of the gang’s medical and tactical emergency response forces. It was very hard to forget that one time Dick was traveling to Washington and the whole airport went in alarm because a kid forgot his backpack with a special toy in it. The moment the announcement hit the speaker system, Jason’s men marched in from practically everywhere and whisked Dick away while he was still in the middle of processing what the hell was going on.

Marrying Jason meant everything to Dick, but sometimes, the things that came along could be a little bit too much, like the heavy ring on Dick’s finger that kept making him think how terrible it would be if he punched somebody, or like right now, sitting in a bulletproof SUV with two guards in tactical vests with three assault rifles, and … well, Jason. The thing was like a damn fortress, both inside and out. Ahead of them, a normal looking Forb was actually driven by Jefferson, the head of Jason’s security and tactical director, carrying three other guards all in disguise, and behind, an old minivan with one of Jason’s many task forces inside.

It felt like they were going to war sometimes. Worse, Dick knew Jason only went this extra mile when Dick was with him. Normally if he was going alone, Jason would even drive himself.

“You want anything when I get back?” Jason squeezed his hand, smiling like a dork.

“As if I even need anything anymore.”

“You sure? Russia has quite good chocolate.”

Dick huffed. “Are you trying to make me fat?”

“Oh we all know your body has that special system, making all the fat go in one particular place.”

He swatted Jason’s head, and heard him laugh out loud. Dick glanced around and looked at the guards, watching the corners of their mouths quirk up, and blushed heavily. God, if embarrassing Dick was Jason’s way of making his guards stay loyal, he was doing a fantastic job.

They arrived at the airport peacefully, as if Jason would ever let anything happen. Dick could bet his money that his husband even had snipers crawling somewhere on the nearby rooftops to cover for them.

The jet was already waiting by the time their cars made to the place. Jefferson went out to talk with the pilots, guards wandered around to do a recheck on everything. They got off the car, Jason kissed his hand, a duffle bag over his shoulder. His vest, well ironed and matt black, did things to the blue in his eyes and that cocky smirk he always wore like a damn badge. Usually when he dressed well, it meant some people were going to get killed. After years of marriage, Dick knew it would be the best to not talk about it. “I’ll be back by Wednesday, if not, you know the drill.”

“Oh you better be back by Wednesday. You owe John a day out.”

“I did say it may take up to 3 days, didn’t I?”

“Oh yes, but if you can make it back sooner…” Dick licked his lip, biting it while watching the way Jason gulped.

“Wednesday it is then.”

When waving his goodbye, Hank, another of Jason’s boy, stood next to him and shook his head.

“You do know how to walk him around.”

Dick just smiled, and watched the jet take off.

On the first night, things went on like usual. Jason called right away once he landed, and he talked with John for almost half an hour before homework whisked the boy away. He talked about how terrible the cold was at this time of the year in Russia, how empty his huge hotel room was without his family, and how much he wished he could be there with them eating Dick’s homemade steaks and mash sweet potato.

International crime organization meant international movement every now and then. There were nights when Jason woke up at 4 in the morning, barely an hour back from patrol to get ready for a flight overseas.

Most of the times Dick stayed at home and waited, on some occasions he would go with Jason to watch his back. Dick had got used to it, had got used to rubbing his nose on the empty bed sheet at night when his husband was away, or curling on the couch of his favorite reading area by the window to fell asleep more easily.

Patrol had been strikingly easy since marriage, with Jason’s growing power in the underworld, and Bruce’s widening crime fighting community. And tonight, just like every time Jason went away, the streets were even quieter than ever.

Dick always knew Jason got something to do with this.

“Did you get home safe?”

Dick huffed and rolled his eyes when taking off his Nightwing suit. Safe used to be a foreign conception of his life, applying more for the people around him rather than Dick himself.

“With 5 of your men and the amount of firearms they carry? You’re lucky we didn’t get pulled over by the cops, they’d probably think we were on our way to rob the National Bank.”

Jason chuckled. “You’ll be fine. The cops on duty tonight were all my men.”

Dick dropped his shirt. Thinking about all the routes they had passed today and suddenly lost his words. He knew Jason had insight in the law enforcement, knew how usual this happened for most big crime organizers. Still, it was a bit of a shock.

“All of them?” Dick asked, slightly wished Jason was just joking.

“All of them.” Jason wasn’t joking.

Dick enjoyed the way Jason chuckle. He had always loved his deep voice, the roughness of it, it made his sweet man sounded edgy, manly, with a hint of mysterious, just like the classic novels he read.

“What are you doing?”

“Having breakfast. Just got up actually, last night kept me up a little too late.” Jason’s sigh sounded tired, and Dick caught the sound of him moving on the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Getting change. Tonight was surprisingly easy, thanks to you.”

Jason yawned and hummed a soft sound. Dick could imagine the face he was making, could vision the hand he rubbed on the back of his neck, moving it up to comb through the short locks, a soft smile he had on his dozy face, teeth white and even showing through the crack of his lips.

“What are you wearing?” He spoke, after a beat of silence.

“What?”

Jason chuckled again. “What do you have left on your body?”

“Right now? Nothing but a robe.”

“Good. Where are you now?”

“In our bedroom.” Dick bit his lips, getting a glimpse of what Jason was having in mind.

“Why don’t you put me on speaker, baby?”

Dick thought about it for a second, then left to peak out at the living room. Hank was lurking near the elevator, and no sign of Jefferson. The man had probably gone upstairs. Dick swallowed then got back to the room, locking the door carefully.

“Okay.” He said, putting the phone on the speaker on top of the office desk by the window.

“Now, why don’t you strip for me?”

Dick shivered when Jason’s voice came out as loud and clear as if he was right here in the room with him. He closed his eyes, slid his fingers tips down the thick fabric, tugging at the belt before pulling it off completely. The hems ran off his shoulders, the whole robe felt down, puddling behind his feet. His skin revealed to the space, uncovered and still steaming after the hot shower.

“Is it cold?”

Dick shifted, switching on his legs, and swallowed. “A little.”

Jason chuckled, the sound of the sheet moving under his weight came clearer. “Touch yourself.”

Dick thought about it, thought about the three of Jason’s men lurking around inside his house just a door away, thought about John sleeping upstairs, but then about Jason on his hotel bed, more or less naked too with a hand sliding down near his member.

He bit on his lip, then did what he was told. His fingers slid on naked skin, lightly shaken and cold. His breaths were getting louder, and Jason was getting responsive by it.

“That’s it,” He breathed. “That’s it, baby. Imagine I was there.”

Dick did. He thought of the way Jason always touched him, of his big hands, his patchy knuckles, his calloused fingers rubbing against his scars. He would toy with his belly button, caress his nipples until they hardened. Meanwhile, his lips would land down the side of Dick’s neck, peppering kisses, sucking skin while his hands had their game on Dick’s body.

Dick’s hands traced down to his cock, shivering when the first touch landed but soon, it felt like nothing was enough.

“You sound good, baby.” Jason’s voice came out low, rumbling like an animal. It did things to Dick. “Climb on the bed. Keep touching yourself.”

Dick followed his every word, crawling on the mattress with a hand between his thighs.

“Play with your back too.”

Dick bit on the sheet when his fingers made their way further to the back. He felt his rim there, twitching like expecting something.

“Do you feel yourself there?”

Dick nodded to himself, shakily answered. “I do.”

When the first finger went in, he gasped. His inside felt hot and soft, and the feel of it brought all sort of a new experience to Dick. He wondered to himself if this was how the inside of him had always felt like.

When the second finger made its way in, Dick moaned. And Jason must have reacted to it, because briefly through his closed lids and heaving, Dick caught on the sound of his husband’s choked out laugh.

For a few seconds, Dick couldn’t do anything but stayed still and relaxed. This was too much, this felt too much. It amazed him thinking about how his body usually took in Jason’s fingers and then his thing because it sure felt a lot harder doing this all by himself.

“Breathe, baby. Breathe.” Jason cooed, softly.

Dick inhaled, exhaled. Three times, then by the fourth, he felt much better and eager to move.

It felt good. God, it felt so good he actually cried out.

Jason’s chuckles got louder, his breathing got heavier, his bed creaked a little, the sheet moved around. Dick didn’t need to see to know his husband was enjoying the hell out of this phone call.  

“Can you take in three?”

This time, he was sure he would get even louder so he bit on the sheet even harder and muffled it all. In the background, Jason was cursing, laughing, then heaving. He was breathing through his mouth and groaning. Dick could tell he was jerking himself by the sound and mental image of Dick spreading out and fingering himself on their bed.    

“Baby I’m so close.”

Dick was close too, but he couldn’t get off like this, couldn’t get off like this if it wasn’t Jason. So he rubbed his face on the sheet, and wormed the other hand down to touch his rock hard cock. Even the slightest touch sent electric to his spine, and the bed smelt like Jason, his woody smelt, thick, heavy, musky like the wood at fall after a good rain.

Dick missed his touch, missed his warmth, the way he always whispered the sweetest things to his ear while making love.

His nose rubbed on the sheet, and the thing was coated was Jason’s scent.

He came, hard, with Jason name on his tongue. The orgasm struck him with full force that made his knees weak and shake, Dick himself felt shamelessly blessed that their place was well soundproof enough so the guards wouldn’t think he wasn’t being butchered and barge in.  

He must have passed out, Dick was sure of it. Because for a minute he just laid there, heaving, ass in the air and knees down and legs too numb too feel anything, feeling the cool sweat coating his back and running on his heated skin.

Jason must have climaxed when Dick’s head was still somewhere around cloud nine, because when he laughed, the sound came calmly relaxed and satisfied.

“I love you.”

Dick laughed, blowing the hair that had felt down his face. He would need a shower again, and change the sheet.

“Jason,” He called, stopping for a beat to catch on his own breath, swallowing for the sake of his dry throat. “Wednesday?”

Jason chuckled, moving on the bed again. This time, his voice got louder, but odd enough, wispier too, as if he had pressed his lips so close to the speaker like sending the words straight to Dick’s core.

“Wednesday.”

“You big fucking liar.”

Jason went silent, but even through the phone, Dick could understand that was his way of admitting defeat. The whole house turned back to look at him, even Beast hopped his head up from where he was lying. Jefferson peaked through Hank’s shoulder to look at Dick’s reaction before turning to look at each other.

His guards had been staying over his place since Jason went off. Jason’s order, of course, even when most of what they did were carrying his bags and reaching for items on the top shelves while grocery shopping.

“You said Wednesday. Tomorrow is Wednesday already. I expected you to drive John to school because you’ve already missed two of his first days. But now you’re telling me you’ll be stuck there for another 3 days?”

“Ba‒Baby,” Jason shuttered. Jason never shuttered, only to Dick. “It just came out of nowhere. I swore, I didn’t have this coming.”

“You didn’t have it coming? Right, who messed up this bad that you have to stay this long?”

“If I tell you, death would be a mercy for them. No, honey, no. I’ll call John later, tell him I’m sorry‒”

“You’ll miss his first football test!” Dick screamed. Literally screamed.

“Dickie, baby, I know. But‒” There was sound of door opening, and then next was Jason’s faraway voice cursing and groaning. ��Fuck what? No, I’m talking to my husband, tell them to fucking wait… What? Now?! Tell them the last goddamn person said that to me was strangled alive.”

“Jason, are you in trouble?” Dick growled. He slammed his smoothie down the marble counter so hard Bob — the same grumpy sarcastic Viking vibe Bob who had a man bun and a bazooka on his back five days out of seven — literally jumped.

“Jason Peter Todd.”

“Yes, Dickie? No, I’m not in trouble, more like some people are gonna be in serious trouble because of me. But no need to worry, I have to go, but I’ll be back soon, I swear.”

“I hold little faith to your promises right now, Jay. Whatever, just don’t cause a national crisis, and don’t.get.in.any.trouble.”

From the way the whole three of Jason’s men widely looked at him when he grunted out every word, Dick was confident Jason got the message crystal clear.

“Ye‒Yes sir.” Dick was right. “I really have to go now. I’ll call back when I can, I love you.”

“Love you too.” Dick mumbled back then shut the phone, throwing it down the counter with a sigh.

He needed to kill Jason, and get some tea. John was still asleep by this hour, and the penthouse felt too big without most of his family present.

“Annie, can you make me some tea?”

His butler, Anastasia smiled at him. On the stove, the kettle was already screaming. “I kinda figured you would say that.” She hushed Jefferson outside of the kitchen so she could reach toward the drawer, pulling out Dick’s favorite cup set. “I have to admit, before working for you, I had in mind the Red Hood was a more fearless man.”

“Oh you have no idea.” Dick rolled his eyes and got over the counter for his tea selection. Jason always left the coffee bags scattered around in this particular drawer despite how many time Dick had told him not to.

“I guess you’re just special enough to bring out that side of him.”

Dick turned back to look at the back of Anna and her strawberry blonde hair when she slid the lemongrass to put into the teapot. Anna was Mac’s wife, one of Jason’s gang head members, and one of the few Jason truly trusted to let be around his family. Mac was a busy man so that Jason wouldn’t be busy himself, for that, Anna, without a job and three kids always at school, was usually left lonely at home until one day, Jason offered he might need a butler for their penthouse in Diamond District.

She loved the job. She loved it too much she wouldn’t let Dick cook sometimes.

“Are those boys going to join you for lunch?” Anna asked with a specific smirk, and Dick knew what she was talking about.

Hank waved back at her with his gun, his very very big gun, next to him, Jefferson was pointing at something on the tablet for Bob, who looked like he was armed for a zombie apocalypse rather than guarding a 20 years experience vigilante.

Three elite guards from his very own personal protection team, tagging along to anywhere at any time, assigned directly by the Red Hood himself.

One week ago Dick had got back to the Manor and had a little tea talk with Damian. The boy had asked him if Jason was treating him well. Dick could only have laughed.

Jason was treating him too well it was hard to watch sometimes.

“Blue,” Hank smirked, coming over and pulling a chair out next to Dick. “You like the Turkish Delights I made last time?”

Dick huffed, thanking God secretly that all these men were wise enough to not talk about their Boss when Dick was still mad at him. Behind him, Anna chuckled while watching Hank look eager for his answer.

“I do, very much. Who would have thought these big hands can make such lovely sweets.”

He wriggled his brows at Hank, and pulled the gun out of his hand, disabled it at ease. “No guns on the counter.”

Hank looked back at him, dumbfounded. Jefferson, who seemed to have enough talking with Bob about the things on the tablet, went over and snapped a finger at the man.

“Blue,” He turned to Dick, eyes looking everywhere on his face before meeting his eyes. Dick never took Jefferson in as a shy man, but he acted like he had choked on his tongue sometimes. “Technically I’m not allowed to do this, but if you want to know Boss’s schedule, please ask me, I can make some calls, ask Trevor around. Do not do any research by yourself.”

Dick twirled on his chair and tried to act normal in front of Jefferson’s serious face and Anna’s big fat smile when handling over his tea. Anna even put a slice of lemon into his cup, what a lovely butler she was.

“Blue, are you listening to me?”

“I am, I am.”

“So you remember the routines, right?”

Dick rolled his eyes. These men, they were treating Dick as a child.

“No patrol over 6 hours. No going out without a team. No new cases without backup. No traveling overseas or out of the gang’s territory. No skipping meals during the days. And get back home before 3 AM.”

Dick was seriously getting a headache listening to Bob covering all the things Jason had repeated to him over and over again every time he went on a business trip.

“Guys, you are all aware that I’m perfectly capable of winning a 10 men SWAT team in exactly 7 minutes and a half, right? You must be, you’ve seen me do that before.”

Hank rubbed a hand over his face, and his beard, biting on his cheek as if trying to find the right words to say. “Blue, you wear spandex, literal spandex that gets cut and burnt and not bulletproof.”

“Yeah, and spandex that helps me fly.”

Jefferson put his tablet down the marble counter, sighed, and squeezed Dick’s hand. “Blue, I know you fly, and you fly beautifully. We just want to keep you safe, as safe as possible, and Boss not killing us for not trying.”

“Oh he won’t kill any of you, not if I tell him so.”

Jefferson sighed, seemingly exhausted. “Blue.”

“Okay, okay. Jesus.” Dick actually laughed. He could play this game, besides, it was nice to have someone around running errand for him.

Jefferson knelt down, head leveled with Dick’s stomach. He put his hand on Dick’s knee, a harmless gesture but Dick got a feeling it carried something more than just what it seemed.

“If I ever have to watch you in a 3 weeks coma again, I think I’ll actually die.”

Dick barked out a laugh, sipped on his tea, and patted Jefferson’s on the head.

Dick didn’t know he had fallen asleep, until his body reacted out of instinct.

A hand caught his wrist, blocking his blow fully and strong. Jefferson’s face came clear in the dark, closer than Dick had expected. His forearm planted on the head of the couch, and his beard had a strange grey color under the moonlight when looming over Dick like this.

Dick let out the breath he had been holding, hands tugged at the wool blanket on his shoulder. He didn’t know why he did that, suddenly, he just felt naked in front of the man’s eyes.

“You’ll catch a cold if you sleep here.” Jefferson said so, but right after that, he left to fire up the fireplace.

Dick watched the way his back flex when hunching down. His thick muscle bundled up, barely hidden underneath the thin cover of his shirt. Dick had seen him naked a few times, knew well how bulky this man actually was underneath all the layers of armor he carried most of the time. The gun holster hugged tight to his arms and shoulders. You could always know how fit a man was by the way the shoulder holster hugged on them.

Jefferson walked back after setting the fire. Dick watched the fireplace light the room up, painting dancing shadows on the walls as Jefferson made his way back to the couch he was curling on, knelt down one knee, one arm planted down the cushion right next to Dick’s legs.

He stared at Dick in silence, so serious and focused as if analyzing him.

Dick rubbed the edge of the blanket on his nose, tearing his gaze away and laying his head down his knees. “Don’t ask.” He whispered.

“It’s okay to miss him.”

“I know.”

Dick knew. But if felt like a joke, showing this side of him to someone. Jason was only away for four days, back then, they used to avoid each other for months, but now, Dick felt torturous waiting for the sun to come up and down without a body pressed next to him.

Jason’s scent still lingered on the sheet, in the first two days, it shooed Dick to sleep like coating him in his husband’s warm embrace. Now, his scent only reminded Dick of his absence in the room.

Jefferson looked down his feet, then up at Dick. He pushed his lips into a thin line, the hand he had on the couch lightly rubbed on Dick’s blanket-covered legs.

“This is the first time he goes on a business trip this long without you by his side.”

Dick smiled, hopping Jefferson didn’t catch the way his lips was weighing down. “Yeah. He’s never gone this long.”

Dick could feel Jefferson’s eyes on him, he just didn’t care anymore. The fire reminded him of a night when they got back from an undercover mission, too pent up by leftover energy and adrenaline of jumping off a 20 stories building, they had sex countless times by the fireplace, and then danced naked in the dark, with only the red and orange light as music and guidance to their steps.

“Why don’t you call him?”

Jefferson’s words brought surprise to Dick, half because how they broke the peaceful silence between them, and half of the meaning they carried.

Dick tugged himself in tighter, had this major urge to curl himself into a ball and hide away from just everyone’ eyes.

“I don’t think I have any right to say I miss him.”

Jefferson frowned, hunched over even closer. “What makes you think so?”

“Because I’ve made him wait much longer.”

Dick had expected Jefferson to just leave him be like that. To his surprise, the man pulled out his phone, and dialed Jason’s contact.

Dick caught on his wrist, half amazed, half panicked. “What are you doing?”

“Calling him for you.” Jefferson deadpanned.

“He could be working. He could be busy.”

Jefferson only stared back, smiling.

“For you? He won’t be.”

Dick was cleaning their dressing room when the stack of shirts he was folding fell off where he had laid them on the wardrobe.

“Oh for Christ sake.” He mumbled and went over to pick it up and fold them again.

Jason’s side was always on the left. Most of his clothes were shirts, jackets (a lot of them), coats, and suits. He had a few hoodies, and a few tanks, but overall, his tastes ran short in just a few styles. Unlike him, Dick liked to test things out on his right side, with oversized tees (mostly stolen from Jason’s), cotton shirts, polos, blazers, sweaters, turtlenecks, sweatshirts. Even Babs choked when she saw his side of the wardrobe. Dick remembered when they first moved in, Jason had joked, Dick’s side had to be right, because he was always right.

Picking up a jacket of Jason that he had planned to hang up the hanger, Dick took a decent look at it, and tried to recall the last time Jason had worn it.

Driven by curiosity, he lifted the collar up, and smelt it.

A satisfied sigh was drawn out. The thing smelt clean, a whip of worn leather even though looking new, and just like Jason. Jason, who smelt like old wood, burnt charcoal, and home.

“You really miss me that much?”

Dick yelped, whole body jointed up when caught by Jason’s voice. He turned back, and his husband was standing right there, leaning on the doorway, smirking devilishly.

“You are… home?” Dick tried to catch on his breath, a hand smoothed on his chest. He threw the jacket right back to the stack of clothes so quick like the thing had offended him.

Jason chuckled and walked over, invading Dick’s personally space in the speed of light.

“You’re not happy?”

“No, I just… I thought you’d be back tomorrow.”

“Well, I decided to wrap things up sooner than scheduled, because a certain someone was missing me so badly he had to listen to my voice to fall asleep last night.”

Dick blushed when taken over by the memory of last night. Jefferson had called Jason for him, and they had talked for what felt like hours, to the point Dick couldn’t recall when he had passed out, only to wake up in a bed with Beast staring at him in the morning.

Jason caught his chin, lifted it up with his fingers so they could face each other. Dick could mirror himself on the intense blue of Jason’s eyes.

“Tell me, how bad did you miss me?”

Dick swallowed, breathing through his mouth when Jason’s lips brushed over his.

“You already know.” He whispered back, shivered when felt a hand wormed its way underneath his shirt and palm on the small of his back.

In his head, Dick had expected the hand Jason had on him to travel down a little lower, or his lips to trace the side of his neck so his teeth could lightly gaze his skin like how he always did. To his surprise, Jason only pulled him closer, drowning him in his warmth and familiar scent of his. His arms, his big arms, wrapped around Dick as if promising to never let go of him.

“5 days,” He whispered in the crook of Dick’s neck. “5 damn days. I missed you and John like crazy.”

Dick chuckled, rubbing his face on Jason’s shoulder because he could.

“Tell me, how bad did you miss me?”

Jason barked out a laugh, arms still squeezing Dick into his chest. He kissed his hair, and their legs were swaying on their own.

[welcometophu]

What Taekwondo Means to Me

For my second degree black belt test, I had to write an essay on what TKD means to me, and what my goals are for the future.

I wrote an essay, and I hated every word of it. When I sat down to rewrite, I had that essay, what I wrote to talk to y’all about my test, and some notes all in front of me. I wrote a brand new essay from the start, and I’m much happier with this one. The transcript is here, and it’s long (the video is a about 7.5 minutes long, but I really like how it came out).

---

In 2010, when I turned 42, I gave myself the gift of life.

I was short. Fat. Overweight, struggling with chronic pain and stress, and a little bit of depression. I had tried every possible workout out there, from step to spinning, and none of it stuck. Not a single thing tweaked the pleasure centers in my brain and made me want to come back.

I wasn't sure taekwondo was the sport for me. I thought that I'd try it, and see if I could even survive a class. I liked the idea of kicking things--I'd been a baton twirler when I was growing up, and kicking was something I liked. But it seemed violent. Difficult. Not really a sport for a mother of two who was more than a bit height-challenged, and found that workouts usually meant more than a day of recovery.

It turned out to be exactly the sport for me. That pleasurable uptick in my brain--that little light that went on and said go back and do this again tomorrow--that was taekwondo. I made it through class, and yes, I was exhausted, and sore, but I felt alive. I felt like I had found the thing I'd been looking for. This was the workout I wanted to do. This was the sport I wanted to learn.

That doesn't mean it was easy. I loved the drills and kicking targets, but I was still terrified of sparring. I was terrified of anything that required me to hit a person, or worse yet, be hit by a person. I put off buying sparring gear as long as I could, which means I was six months into training before I ordered it, and due to some issues with delivery, eight months into training before I ever received it.

The third time I put on my sparring gear, I was in a tournament. So there I was, an orange belt, and I'm still barely able to put on gear without help. And there's my opponent, a purple belt who went straight for me head first shot and knocked me on my backside so hard that I saw stars.

I got up. I kept going. I was terrified, yes, but I knew that I didn't have a choice--I was in the middle of a sparring match in a tournament and I couldn't just stop. But it didn't really help me like sparring.

For Christmas in 2011, I gave myself the gifts of courage and belief.

I started attending tournament training classes. I was the slowest person in the class. I loathed running--still do. I was tentative. Careful. I was uncertain. There was one day when we were doing lead leg head kicks and I was cautiously lifting my leg and trying to reach for the head, and I couldn't make it. And Master Nash walked by and said, "Commit to the kick."

Because you can't do something unless you believe you can. You have to commit to the action, do it as if it will succeed in order for it to have a chance of succeeding. Don't overthink it, just throw the kick and trust that your body will accomplish the goal of reaching high enough, far enough, hard enough, to strike the target. In order to get there, I had to believe in myself.

At tournament classes we trained hard. We ran, we did conditioning, we did a lot of drills. And of course, we sparred. We sparred a lot.

I stopped hating sparring, but at that point, I didn't really love it, either. I learned how to do it. And I learned how to grit my teeth and work hard and get through it. I learned that no matter what, you don't give up. If you're gasping for breath on the edge of an asthma attack, you stop, you breathe, your coach gets you the time you need and then… you go on.

In the summer of 2014, for my 46th birthday, I gave myself the gift of faith.

I received my black belt that summer, and for the months leading up to the test, I didn't feel like I deserved it. I'd trained hard, just like everyone else. I'd worked my best and done my best, and I was pushing my limits as much as I could, but I still had imposter syndrome. I looked at other people and thought they're better than me, and they'll always be better than me.

When I tested, I failed to break my brick. But at the same time, I remembered all my forms, I did my essay, and I sparred well. In fact, I sparred well enough that when I threw a spin back kick and realized that I was about to catch my sparring partner in a very uncomfortable below-his-chest-protector place, I was able to pull back and not nail him with an illegal kick. I had control. And it's funny that that kick--too low, didn't land it--is one of the moments that gave my faith in myself as a black belt.

That was also the summer where I had to look at my training, because as a black belt, my journey was only just beginning. I had to ask myself where did I want to be in a year? In five years? And I had to follow my heart to where the training would be best for me, and I had to have faith in myself that I would be strong enough to withstand it and flourish.

For the past three years, I have given myself the gifts of strength and perseverance.

I remember a few years ago when I said it's okay, you get used to getting kicked in the face and my sparring partner just started at me, boggled. I can't blame her--it's not a normal statement to make. Nor is cheering for the person who just nailed my nose with a fantastic fake, or saying I'll do it with my off-hand because I'm not worried if I break that one.

We all have limits. We have fears, and we have things that we think we can't do. I've already listed mine: I'm short, fat, old, and I have chronic pain. Taekwondo is not the ideal sport for me, but I love it. And I love it enough that I've done strength training to try to supplement my ability to kick and punch, and I've done yoga to stay flexible. When I was told that running 75 miles was part of the requirements for my second degree test, I got out and started doing it right away because the sooner I started, the sooner I would finish. I still hate running, and I'm still the slowest person here, but I whined my through approximately twenty hours of running (at a sixteen minutes per mile average pace) and I made it across that finish line.

I didn't try to beat anyone else's pace, and I'm not trying to be the best person here. I want to be strong enough, and last long enough, to be the best me that I can be.

Three years ago I said that getting my black belt was just the beginning. I know that even more now: for everything I learn, there are two things I don't know. For everything I gain, there are more things waiting for me to get there. And if you ask me now where I want to be in one year, or in five years, or fates willing, in ten years, the answer is the same: I want to be here.

I want to keep training. I want to keep living the best life I can, and taekwondo is part of that. I want to gain more courage, have faith and belief in myself. I want to be strong, and I will persevere. I will continue to grow.

Keep working. Keep kicking. Don't die.

[rob-blog1234]

WEEKEND TV HOT FILM PICKS!

Check out my guide to the top films on TV this weekend and the best of the rest. Enjoy!

LATE FRIDAY 16th JUNE

HOT PICKS!

ITV4 @ 2100    The Shawshank Redemption (1994) *****

This film can never go without a mention - this heart filled story by Stephen King, superbly brought to life on the big screen has been seen countless times and still completely sweeps me up in it’s incredibly detailed story of Tim Robbins as Andy Dufresne, a man wrongly convicted for the murder of his wife and her lover, gets sent to prison at the infamous Shawshank Penitentiary. He struggles to adapt to prison life and suffers isolation and abuse. He meets a number of different characters, some more friendly than others - one such man is Morgan Freeman’s “Red”. An unlikely friendship begins that soon blossoms into one of the greatest friendships in film. The Shawshank Redemption is a wholly memorable, brilliantly executed, touching, sad, effecting and downright impressive film that should be home in everyone’s film collection. Its success lies in the amazing script and equally amazing cast who drive this amazing story to even greater heights. It’s almost purely dialogue driven and doesn’t need to rely on special effects or elaborate action sequences - in fact it doesn’t have any at all. It is quite simply a brilliant and in-depth film about people and their interactions. It’s both thought provoking and powerful and one of my all-time favourite films.

Film4 @ 2315    Die Hard (1988) *****

Yes - It’s here… It’s Not December... but who cares.... Time to watch my personal favourite Christmas film: Die Hard. Everyone’s favourite cop - John McClane comes home for Christmas but manages to bump into a load of terrorists lead by the amazing Alan Rickmann as the sinister Hans Gruber. Here begins John McClane’s bad luck stint getting mixed up with bad guys where ever he goes. Great story, classic 80’s Action. A must see Action Film!

ITV4 @ 2355    Bullitt (1968) ****

This fantastic cop thriller has been somewhat overshadowed by its fame for the glorious car chase scene, but it really shouldn’t be, Bullitt is an intelligent, focused and realistic crime drama with well-placed action and suspense. With Steve McQueen pulling out an understated but wholly credible role as Lieutenant Frank Bullitt he lifts this already great film to higher ground. As I have filled my recent film viewing with CGI heavy spectaculars full of clunky exposition and sacrificing script for mass glitzy destruction sequences, it was an absolute pleasure to return to the films I love. Films with intelligence, perfect sound tracks, with tone and mood matched perfectly to the story they are telling, realism, impressive live action scenes with no CGI… Bullitt certainly fits the bill.

Best of the rest:

TCM @ 2000      The Towering Inferno (1974) ****

Horror @ 2100  The Crazies (2010) ****

5* @ 2100           Layer Cake (2004) ***

C4 @ 0055         The Fighter (2010) ****

SATURDAY 17th JUNE

HOT PICKS!

Syfy @ 2100     The Lost Boys (1987) *****

This is one of those films that must be in the running for a place in my Top 10 most watched films of all time, and there’s good reason for it. Joel Schumacher’s ultra-accessible 80’s vampire film - The Lost Boys is full of fun and frights with a great edge of comedy. It has it all.

The last time we watched it we went in for something a bit different. We successfully negotiated the “Michael” drinking game. Michael is uttered 114 times in this film, based on shots, that’s about 6 pints. To prevent death or alcohol poisoning we opted for beer instead of spirits. Easy! We thought. Oh dear good no. As we ambled towards the rail track scene, beer suddenly started flying, people shouting “pause it!” & “Shit I just counted 17 I think” before we knew it we were 3 pints in and not even half way through. We ordered a Chinese (of course!) No maggots or worms luckily. If you are up for a laugh with some film fan friends, this is great fun.

A family move to a new home in a beach front town in California but it is not perfect. Santa Carla is home to a gang of bikers who terrorise the town and with a string of missing persons and mysterious deaths, the place certainly has its fair share of problems. The youngest son Sam meets two boys who claim to be vampire hunters. The eldest son’s interest in a local girl draws him into the gang of mysterious bikers and each night they venture out into the town. The brothers soon find out about Santa Carla’s dirty little secret that endangers them both.

The story is fantastic, it always rolls along so fast you are always entertained. Complemented by a great cast driving the story with some great music this has become a true cult classic. Keifer Sutherland’s David really steals the show and he oozes menacing coolness whenever on screen. This is undoubtedly one of the greatest Vampire films of all time. Watch this!

5* @ 2100     Dallas Buyers Club (2013) ****

McConaughey is currently unstoppable - pulling some well selected and very well done performances out of the bag. One such role is in Dallas Buyers Club. This is based on a true story of Ron Woodroof who discovers he is HIV positive and with very little medical advice or medicine available through normal channels turns to the black-market for the unapproved drugs he needs. His physical transformation for this role is impressive - but it’s not just simply that - he is outstanding. Juggling a character with delicate emotion and physical condition but with the heart and sheer motivation to continue on. His quest for illegal medication becomes more of a selfless cause as he begins to help others affected by HIV. The supporting cast are awesome and you will not even recognise Jerod Leto’s Rayon. Its success lies in a fine line of taking the good out of a bad situation. It never treads too firmly in either camp and this balanced and well approached film was one of my favourites of 2013.

Film4 @ 2100    Commando (1985) ****

If you are looking for an intelligent, complex, thought provoking action film then you need to watch something else, in fact, no you don’t - you just need to get ready for some nonsense action trash with the very best action hero… Arnie. Packed with outrageous sequences, a huge body count, a ridiculous and implausible bad guy and enough weapons to take over a small country. Here is a classic 80’s action film that doesn’t apologise, and doesn’t need to.

Seriously, just look at the front cover. That’s what you are going to get. Muscles, weapons, fighting… And you get Arnie carrying a massive log with one arm… And there’s a rocket launcher… Come on people!

I’ll even forgive the incessant and annoying steel drum & rapid keyboard music that it inflicts on us. This is Classic Arnie action nonsense. Amazing body count and some of the best Arnie one liners in the book.

I’ll watch it again purely for the random montage at the beginning when he is feeding a deer… Amazing.

Best of the rest:

BBC2 @ 1430      Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958) ****

Film4 @ 1900      About a Boy (2002) ****

TCM @ 2100       Zoolander (2001) ***

ITV4 @ 2200       Reservoir Dogs (1992) *****

TCM @ 2255       Full Metal Jacket (1987) *****

SUNDAY 18th JUNE

HOT PICKS!

TCM @ 2100    Full Metal Jacket (1987) *****

I’ve had many discussions regarding people’s favourite War movie? …and this is mine. Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket is superb. It’s full of classic Kubrick shots and some stellar performances making this a true bonafide classic. The film has 2 clear parts; the first part of the film goes through the marine training from day one of their induction, with a powerful opening scene of each character getting their heads shaved, removing their identity. This training part of the film is bar far the highlight of the movie. The second part, although different is extremely complimentary and deals with their introduction to real army life out in their new various roles, specifically focusing on “Joker” in his role as war correspondent for the Stars and Stripes publication. The film shows the Vietnam War from their perspective and how their lives are consumed by it.  It is full of interesting characters, particularly Private Pyle played by the brilliant Vincent D'Onofrio. Lee Ermey’s wild eyed and aggressive drill instructor is almost cartoon in his extremes and pushes the new recruits to the very limit of their capabilities… and in some cases beyond.  Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket is a triumph of cinema and a much watch film. Like War films? Love this.

C4 @ 2310     End of Watch (2012) ****

This is a fantastic buddy cop movie that oozes realism through an interesting blend of found footage style documentary filming and super dramatic fly on the wall direction. Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael Pena are absolutely superb and they bring home two great performances that inspire serious audience involvement, you are part of their lives and really care about what happens to them. A lot of reviews gripe about the camera work and the odd impossible shot but the film isn’t meant to fit formula, its camera use is very effective for style and realism. Once you get over the camera work and you are saturated by the characters, hopefully you too will see how good a film this really is.

Best of the rest:

C5 @ 1330       Footloose (1984) ***

C4 @ 1430       The Book of Life (2014) ***

ITV2 @ 1650    Despicable Me 2 (2013) ***

Film4 @ 2320  Man on Fire (2004) ***