#like i would still hope that the actual pete they showed was our version

[geronimomo-spd]

ok so, even with the recent revalation that the insomniac spider man games exist in Earth-1610 (ie our Miles's univerce), and the fact that because of this, insomniac Miles Morales cannot exist in there, you can take my insomniac Miles and 1610 Miles meeting and comparing their lives out of my cold dead hands

the fact that they are canonicaly video games in 1610 gives away to almost too many wtf implacatins im buzzing

[leikeliscomet]

We Failed the First Black Doctor (Part 2)

After the high of Fugitive of the Judoon ended, the fandom waited for her next appearance. In The Timeless Children, Fugitive appears to help Thirteen. The version we see is of her however actually isn’t her in the flesh, it’s a projection in the Matrix or a hallucination in Thirteen’s mind. Either way, she gives our main character her ‘you can do it’ speech before Thirteen makes her great escape. And that's it. The big showdown was between Thirteen, Dhawan!Master and surprisingly Ko Sharmus who’d give his life to save our main cast making him MVP of the episode. Having Fugitive save the day could’ve given her character a greater role but killing off our First Black Doctor without any explanation of who she was yet definitely would’ve been a terrible idea, so maybe saving her for the Matrix would've been okay. But her backstory was still in a vague place. Whilst the Brendan flashbacks gave us this context and pulled us into the mystery further, wouldn't it have made sense to show us Fugitive in those scenes? We knew she was the Doctor so we could’ve easily put two and two together. Even the Timeless Child reveal itself came across as disappointing to most of the fandom. Technical things aside, making Fugitive the Timeless Child also could've been a way to fully flesh her out and give her more to do in the finale. Running away from Division after they’d kidnapped and experimented on her, taking the form of the Doctor to blend in and help others also exploited like her and being highly skilled in combat for her own protection could've made for some great storytelling and yet…. nothing. Normally in RTD stories the mid-season informs the finale. Dalek showed us a dalek and in the finale… we got Daleks. The Cybermen from Pete’s World returned for Army of Ghosts/Doomsday. The Family of Blood/Human Nature fob returned for Utopia and gave us a three-part finale. The missing planets throughout series 4 would lead us to another major Dalek return in The Stolen earth/Journey’s End. So to copy RTD Who’s format to introduce Fugitive, but not follow through in the finale was very strange and disappointing. With that in mind, I waited for her hopeful return in series 13.

The next time we saw The Fugitive was in Once, Upon Time. The new fam have found themselves trapped in their own timestreams and Thirteen gets a flashback of her past. In there, she sees her reflection and that reflection belongs to the Fugitive. The entire sequence is essentially a Fugitive-era episode. Swarm and Azure were her villains. Karvanista represented by Dan, Lee likely represented by Vinder and likely Gat represented by Yaz were her TARDIS team. Fugitive has a more militaristic approach due to her control by Division but also delivers a decent speech before capturing the Ravagers. She has a calm and controlled presence same as before giving her an interesting dynamic with them. Chaos defeated by order. Once, Upon Time gives us a glimpse of what a Fugitive Doctor episode is or at least could be… and still couldn't commit to it. Thirteen and Fugitive constantly flick back and forth between each other and impressive VFX aside, this was completely unnecessary. We know Fugitive and Thirteen are the same person and that they're both the doctor and yet the episode doesn’t trust the audience enough to let us see the scene carry on without her. The filming of Flux was affected by the pandemic and this is given as the main reason for the flickering but it’s a poor excuse that doesn't hold up. If Jo Martin filmed a fully completed socially distanced take of the Doctor’s lines why did we need Whittaker’s layered over it? Just show us the Martin cut! Again, once Fugitive’s purpose of helping Thirteen was fulfilled, she was gone and the fam moved on. The main Flux storyline continued without her presence. Similarly to Timeless Children, we were teased with a Fugitive appearance that still sidelined her to a cameo role.

In her final appearance, the Fugitive comes back for Power of the Doctor. She’s a hologram… again. Her main role is to save Thirteen… again. She tricks the Cybermen into shooting each other and helps Yaz, giving her one last iconic moment but again, she exists to serve Thirteen's narrative and not her own. A smaller but still interesting part of the scene was her remark about the Master being a ‘rubbish schoolboy’, breadcrumbing us about Fugitive's backstory and her relationships with other characters but this is another question that remains unanswered. Some fans hoped this left a door open for an RTD2 appearance but as Fugitive is a Chibnall character, RTD has no obligation to bring her back so yet again, her fate is still in limbo. There’s some hope as RTD has shown interest in the storyline and has picked it up in a way for the new era but until Jo Martin is on screen again nothing has been confirmed as of yet. The Fugitive Doctor will return instead in a Big Finish audio announced in April 2022. The audio isn’t coming out until 2025.

--

Every doctor, especially in nuwho, goes on a journey; an arc designed and crafted for them which ends with their character changed by the time we reach their regeneration. War accepted the consequences of his actions but realised he didn’t have to fight alone. Despite having a single appearance, Day of the Doctor gave his character a purpose, a conflict and resolution perfectly wrapping his incarnation up within 1 hour. The future was something to embrace, not fear. Nine was the oncoming storm, haunted by the destruction of Gallifrey who eventually opened up to companionship again and finally forgave himself. Ten was the self-destructive hero, whose brilliance and intellect would fuel his ego to great heights eventually causing his downfall. Eleven was the imaginary best friend, an old soul in a young body, with darker tendencies who brought a sadness to the character. Twelve was the lecturer, having very philosophical and internal struggles eventually giving his life not out of grand gesture but simply out of kindness. Thirteen, regardless of what you thought of her writing, had her own narrative journey. The lonely woman who fell to earth not knowing her origin but letting it go because she gained a found family instead. But for the Fugitive, who cares? Why should Chibnall bother to give a Black woman’s incarnation a purpose? Wants and needs? Conflicts? A drive? Motivation? Why even bother giving her a placement in the main lineup? Why bother giving your Black characters depth when it's just easier for fans to just say ‘No way there’s racism here, look a Black doctor!’ with no regard, care of concern for how she was treated? Even when you look at how Black characters are written and perceived, it's clear fandoms aren’t willing or ready to take on board nuanced representations of Black characters. Both Thirteen and the fandom were shocked by Fugitive’s gun use, some claiming it reinforced stereotypes of the angry, violent Black woman but actually she subverts it. The Fugitive’s gun was a red herring to trick the Judoon and Gat. She wasn’t going to use it, she just needed them to think she would. This was no different to Eleven threatening to blow up the Dalek’s ship with a jammy dodger. The violence Fugitive used was in self-defence, not out of malice. Her telling Thirteen to shut up was because she threatened the plan by revealing they were both doctors, not just because she was angry for no reason. It’s ironic and also worrying that after portrayal, after portrayal, after portrayal of morally grey nuwho doctors each using violence as the last resort, each angry at rightful injustices, each holding a darkness within, that the incarnation that didn’t claim any lives is the most violent because they exist in a dark skin Black woman’s body. The ‘lack’ in the representation of marginalised people is an issue that's prominent in Chibnall Who. The Fugitive Doctor is a Black woman. The gender-blind approach to Thirteen’s writing already raised a few concerns but for the experiences of Black women specifically, our Blackness isn’t something that can be ignored or represented ‘subtly’. From the long history and list of tropes used to represent us, from the outrage and anger in fandoms towards Black characters and castings, this lived experience has to be acknowledged. Even in the Doctor Who fandom, Martha Jones was the first Black woman to be a companion and she was hated. RTD and co. acknowledging Martha’s Blackness could've helped protect Freema Agyeman from the rampant racism in the fandom. So why would casting a Black woman as the lead this time, specifically a dark skin woman, be approached any differently? In a diverse and ‘progressive’ show why is race ignored? 

When Jodie Whittaker was announced as the first female Doctor she got tribute videos from young girls that congratulated her, went on Children in Need, spoke about representation in interviews and went on the runway. When Michelle Gomez was cast as the first female master, the uniqueness of casting a woman as the Master for the first time was spoken about on Doctor Who’s YouTube channel. When Jo Martin was cast as the first Black woman to play the doctor, the BBC did nothing. The Black cosplayers shouted out were done by Jo Martin alone on her Instagram. The events where those cosplay group photos took place were organised by Black fans and other fans of colour just like they had always been (shoutouts to Black TARDIS and Team #TARBIS at Gally1). This issue goes beyond Chibnall and is about representation in TV/Film itself. If creative teams can’t be bothered to support Black characters, creators or our stories then I won’t accept the breadcrumbs. I’m becoming less impressed with simply having a Black companion or doctor there but how. If they want credit for representing Black characters then simply, they need to do the damn work. I am tired of the Doctor Who fandom giving Chris Chibnall, Steven Moffat and Russell T Davies credit for Black representation they didn’t create and for work they haven't done. Give me a Black character in Who whose arc doesn’t revolve around a white one, who doesn’t go through extreme trauma with no catharsis and isn’t just ‘there’ and then I’ll give full credit where it's due. Only then will I start handing out gold stars for lanes of Black representation being paved. Only then will I start singing praises of anti-racism and allyship. Until then, I’m no longer accepting breadcrumbs as a full meal.

<- Part 1

Part 3 ->

[mywingsareonwheels]

It's funny how much interpretations can vary. I saw another post where someone felt Lewis was too soft on Thursday by showing us what happened and therefore making us know that how it played out wasn't quite as bad as what Morse was probably imagining.

Although I disagree with you re: Thursday, I sympathize with the mixed feelings. I think there's a few factors with Endeavour which will influence how you feel about it. There's people who will know Morse through the books, people who know him from Inspector Morse, and then fans like me who were introduced to him as the young man in Endeavour. Fans of each of these versions seem to have wanted different things, and I reckon the problem Lewis ran into was trying to make everybody happy.

Like me for instance, I honestly feel he would've been better off pretending Inspector Morse didn't exist because then he wouldn't have been limited to twisting the story towards it and could take Morse and the other characters in a more organic direction. Endeavour might be a prequel, but it was made in such a different era of television, and I think it's ok for it to do something new. However, fans of Inspector Morse hoping to see how he became his older self would be disappointed if he did that. While watching the series I read old reviews from when each season aired and was surprised by the number of people impatient for the Thursday plotline to end to make way for McNutt. Then you have someone like Shaun Evans who read the books but didn't see the show, and that's perhaps why his interpretation of Morse and his future was darker.

At the same time that openness of how the character can be perceived is part of the joy and does allow you to get more out of what the ending means.

I actually really liked what they did with Thursday and how they connected it to Big Pete because I felt it went along with the recurring theme throughout the series that no matter how much these characters want to do good, as policemen they are still part of a messed up system causing harm, and they're not immune to protecting their own over doing what's right for the public they serve. That includes Morse. The whole tragedy of Big Pete and Blenheim Vale is an indictment of the police and remains so.

My takeaway regarding the Morse/Thursday ending is that it wasn't so much about Thursday being a bad person and Morse regretting the relationship because of it, as it was him being confronted with the reality that he had put him on a pedestal. He needed to let go of his naivety. I don't agree with the above point that Lewis was too soft on Thursday, but I do find it interesting that there is a distinction between Morse's perspective and ours. We saw parts of Thursday he didn't and we saw parts of Morse which Thursday didn't. They never truly knew each other because of being suppressed 20th century British men, and maybe that's the real tragedy of Endeavour.

Nonetheless, Morse still credits him with being the best mentor and loves him enough to protect him and his family. I think that's why he ultimately feels he has to close himself up. Because getting too close to the Thursdays put him in a position where he had to compromise his principles and couldn't get justice for Jakes, Big Pete, and the others. THAT'S what really hurt him imo. I also feel like the connection to Inspector Morse can work in that IM is him opening himself back up and Lewis bringing back a side of him which had been missing. I like the idea of Morse being a character constantly learning and changing.

Sorry, I didn't mean for this to turn into a whole essay. lmao

Hee, never apologies for writing a thoughtful essay about "Endeavour". :D

And yeah, as you say you and I don't fully agree about the show (esp. Thursday) but I found your thoughts so interesting and I really enjoyed reading them! Thank you. :)

Also that's a darn good point about Shaun. I've only read a couple of the books and I've seen I think about 1/3 of Inspector Morse (I mean, I watched a bit when I was a kid (I was 9 when it first started) but never got into it fully until I'd seen Endeavour and am meaning to catch up on more v soon), and Thaw's Morse is definitely different from Dexter's original Morse. So... yeah, it makes sense that Shaun had a different trajectory from the one I'm more familiar with. :) (And, well, then you have Roger who likes to play as much drama and emotional intensity as possible, so... ;-) )

Morse constantly learning and changing: yes, definitely. I like that. :D

[pwblogarchive]

May 2002

May 2, 2002

“i wrote a reminder to make sure i remembered to sleep through everything today.” 

it turns out i didn’t need the note. the sky is dark and open over school- if i didn’t know better i would think this might be hell. my core is copper.

i would kill to make it gold.

May 4, 2002

“you’re just a glorified mommas boy” 

spiderman- what a piece of shit. seriously so many complaints i’m not gonna list them all. from the shitty cgi to the people on the bridge “nobody messes with new yorkers” post 9/11 line. horrible. the only people into this crap probably never read a comic. thanks for ruining another piece of my childhood. enough being bitter about a movie haha. i’m going to american nightmare tonight and you’re probably not. too bad for you. oh yeah brand new smokes everything out there right now.

heart pete

May 5, 2002

“i saved latin, what did you ever do?”

i recieved my first hatemail for this thing- PRICELESS. it only adds to the narcissism.

okay after much flak for my attack on spider-man i’m gonna go for more and rate comic movies-

batman [tim burton you can’t go wrong]

batman 2 [see above comment]

superman [for nostolgia- hackman is great barely edged out x-men]

X-Men [the only good recent adaptation in my eyes- very true to the comic but at the same time not nerdy haha]

The Punisher [this thing simply beats ass, dolph lundgren word]

superman 2 [not as good as the first but still up there]

Captain America [so bad but so good]

superman 3 and 4 [tied for crappiness]

Hulk the tv show [only low on the list cause this is supposed to be movies but honestly i’d rather see this in the theater over the crap beneath it]

spider-man 70s version [it’s bad that this thing beat out the new spiderman cause its pretty much a piece of shit]

new spider-man

honorable mention- superman: quest for peace (sucked my balls) and Fantastic Four movie (i’ve never actually seen this but supposedly ben johnson the rock guy is made out of foam)

sitting in the computer lab= me wasting time thinking about how i am going to be far away from here in a van all summer.

driving home tonight= calling up everybody i know so i don’t drive off into the night by accident.

trying to fall asleep= thinking about you.

i bet i’ll be awake forever.

May 9, 2002

“a trophy wife in the parlance of our times”

yeah. i am sick. it sucks. tommorrow Arma is playing at Rubes for what may be our last chicago show ever- we’ll see. like anyone even cares. my birthday is on june 5 though i will be accepting presents all month. remember i like nightmare before christmas toys, live animals (no cats or dogs only scaled things), and i wear extra- small from everywhere but banana republic where i only wear a small.

at least you have your health.

pete

May 12, 2002

“i know i’m not your favorite record anyhow”

thanks to everyone who made the trek through madmax country to see us. i think we may have played the Orphans secret hide out. i hope noone got beaten up too badly.

also, please keep the anonymous slander and shittalking focused on me here. A. i am an egomaniac and it helps me feel like the world revolves around me B. Heather is a cool girl- shes probably like 5 years younger than who ever is talking shit- so stop or have the balls to leave your name.

come out an see us at hellfest, it is always fun- im sure we will have some suprises for everyone.

May 13, 2002

“somehow i think this was all a big mistake.”

and noone should ever feel this way.

May 16, 2002

“the score.”

star wars rules. girls do not.

May 18, 2002

“the phone is lying on the ground twisted and dead- off the hook. i look at it adoringly wishing it was you.”

sleep is such a good thing.

i wish i was better at it.

pete

May 19, 2002

“nothing you say or do is real to anyone” 

i woke up today and thought- i wish you would prove me wrong. and your lipstick tastes like shit. and you remind me of everyone else. and how i love to laugh at bad movies with you. i felt not dead for the first time in awhile when i sat out on my roof and watched all of the backyards. i yelled at the city but i don’t think you heard “be yourself, don’t ever apologize”. the phone is ringing. my feet are running up the stairs. i hope that its you.

May 24, 2002

“the greatest 21st century romance”

sometimes i wish i smoked- i bet cigarettes are like friends.

i wish you could buy friends in packs and then burn them.

i vaguely remember watching jacobs ladder when i was little. i watched it last night and realized my nightmares are exactly out of that movie.

it’s really strange.

when he said “there are five great kisses on record and this one topped them all” doesn’t it make you wonder what the other five kisses were?

sometimes i’m sure one of mine made it.

but then brandonbobbybagwell emails me and i feel relieved that i am just the same shitty boy who still lives with his parents.

May 25, 2002

“with friends like you, who need friends”

gordon gecko is pretty awsome.

we hung out the other day and he ate like 11 crickets.

it was so great.

i wrote the people at captain crunch today.

pretty good letter it included lots of swears and stuff telling them it’s about time he gets a higher rank than captain.

for the record vanilla coke is pretty great.

i came up with a scam that will get me 20,000 dollars by this summer.

it’s gonna rule.

so is the movie bottle rocket and the boxcar racer cd.

today will be spent painting my nails with whiteout and eating coco puffs for every meal.

i think i am mildy retarded.

May 26, 2002

spitalfield smokes. knockout was good and so was showoff. good show. once again got tricked into going to a party which once again sucked.

im gonna create a blog- if you’re lucky you’ll get an email. no more real stuff will be posted on here.

pete

May 30, 2002

“i wish i was drunk or dead”

i called mike from American Movie tonight- greatest guy ever. go watch this movie- you will not be disappointed.

fall out boy record will own you.

oh yeah and thanks for my birthday presents. you are always the nicest and i am always such a wreck- im sorry.

[crazybigredlove]

10th December 2013 

Dear Pete, 

We had something, Big Red and I. Something. I know that now. Something that could've been unbreakable, and nurtured until it could blossom into something so much bigger than what it started out as, but we proved them wrong. We did it. We broke it into so many pieces that now there's nothing left but a hollowness that echoes with anger. 

I existed before it came along, I was happy. So why does that concept seem foreign now? 

After all this, at least I finally know it was real, even if he acts like it wasn't. All those times he stared into my eyes and told me how amazing I was, it felt real. And it didn't matter if it wasn't because we both knew that one day it would be. 

But we broke it. And now it can't ever go back together. There's nothing left of it. 

I'm not sad for me anymore, I'm sad that twice I was offered something that seemed so special and twice it was torn to pieces like an old rag. Maybe that's it though. Maybe if it can be destroyed so easily and without a second thought, then it really doesn't mean that much. Any value is just perceived rather than actually existing. 

I tried talking to Harry about it. 

"Do you think you can break your life so much that the only way to put it together is to start again?" 

Peering at me over his glasses, he gave me a long look up and down as if searching for signs of trauma. "I don't think it's possible to truly start again. Who we are is the result of all our experiences. We can pretend they didn't happen, but it doesn't make them any less real." 

"What if you reach a point though, where you know you just need new everything? New plans, new scene, new job... Everything. New." "I think lots of people reach that point. That's why they move interstate, or they take extended holidays overseas. Is that what you're thinking of doing?" 

"I can't choose the hand I'm dealt, I'm old enough to realise and appreciate that, but if I don't like the hand I don't see why I shouldn't try again for a new one. At least for a little while." "Was there somewhere in particular you were thinking of going?" Laughing as I speak, I'm aware of how vague it all sounds. "Nowhere. Everywhere. I have enough saved up that I could pack up the car and my dog, throw some clothes in the back, and drive for a few months. Head up the coast. See some sights. Work out what I really want to do with my life. Kind of like a holiday, but closer to home and for a lot longer than I've ever holidayed for." 

"If you're doing it for the right reasons and you're in a position where you can, I think most people would enjoy doing that at some stage, for a period." "I feel like I need a little time away from all my drama. To know that these men can't get to me, that there's no pressure to do a job I hate, and to make choices without other influences. For a period." 

"Then I think it's a good idea, provided you go away knowing that at some point the real world will kick in again and you'll have to return to work, to pressure, to reality." 

I'm not sure what the goal of his words was, but they filled me with hope. I suddenly felt so confident that mine was the right decision. 

"I still want to call him. Tell him this is it and he needs to stay this time or never come back again." 

"Do you really think he doesn't know that already? And do you really think you should?" Closing my eyes, I smile bitterly. "I know I can't. It's what I always do right? He wouldn't believe me anyway. It has to be different or nothing changes." 

Harry nodded. "If we keep doing what we've always done..." He let his voice trail off. Why waste words on things that don't need to be said? "There is a small part of me that still wants to be with him," I admit with an embarrassed scowl. "But I'm not sharing anymore. I want the version of him that would give me birthday presents and Christmas presents; the one that would show me off to his friends rather than hide my very existence. I'm not settling for anything less than that with anyone." 

"Do you really see yourself being able to sustain a relationship with a man who has behaved the way that he has though?" "Yes. Because believing 'not for now, but maybe' is what's going to help me move to 'never again'." 

Strange thoughts in my head, but I'm not sad. I'm making plans. Plans intended to be shared with people who don't discard me so easily. 

Liv x 

[bitacrytic]

I have a question. And I am not trying to start any shit trust me. It's just I was exploring the kp tag and I caught another blogger answering an ask. In their opinion, Vegas is those creepy people who constantly come onto you even when you say no and then ultimately commit on you the violence of sexual assault. They brought up how after a failed attempt at raping Porsche he was standing admiring himself in the mirror. And while initially I went how dare you...I eventually could not disagree.

I know the source novel and it is honestly bad. What happened to Pete there- let's just say I am relieved they took another route no matter how dubious the present version is in itself. My point of the ask is- from the safe house episodes they tried to play it up as the man being a sad little boy who did whatever he had to do to come out on top. And maybe ( just maybe with dangling on a very thin line) I can excuse that what he did with Tawan as a part of him wanting to get an inside Intel but his attempt at raping porsche...that- that is not justifiable right? I mean flirting with him/trying to impress him...okay- massive douchebag but the drugging and making him drunk...those stuff.

And the thing is I was in the Vegaspete afterglow right? Giggling at the hospital scene. But now after i have seen the post...i can't help but ask myself...didn't they take the Vegas of earlier episodes and turn him into someone else from that safehouse episode? ( where vp have a heart to heart)? I have the link to the post I am referring to. But I don't want anyone to harass the person...so I am just sending the ask.

Oh, you're right not to link someone that people might attack. Real people matter more than opinions about a fictional ship. So, good on you for not linking it.

I agree with you. Vegas is a psychopath. He is a rapist. He is a murderer. Vegas did bad things to EVERYONE he's ever come in contact with, besides his father and his brother. I am of the opinion that if Tawan hadn't kidnapped Chay and ruined things, Vegas would have taken Porsche to his dungeon and tortured and raped him. It's that simple.

But here are a few things to think of:

1. People can still ship psychopaths and enjoy a ship that features rape. It is fucking FICTION. If you don't ship it, cool. But don't try and make other people feel bad about it. We have literally seen these men commit murder and we still stan them. There's no good behaviour here. Kinnporsche is messy. Everyone is messy. So don't let anyone make you feel like shit for shipping a messed up ship from a messed up show. Because everyone is fucked on this show.

2. It's funny that we, as the audience, think we have a moral standpoint from which to judge these characters. Because we don't. If we were in these situations (I hope not) we might exhibit our worst selves. The things Vegas did to Pete are fucked up. But guess what? If Pete wasn't the prisoner, he'd have stood on the sidelines and let it happen. Wait, he did stand on the sidelines and let Vegas torture at least two different people. That's the kind of show we're watching. Fucked up people doing fucked up shit to each other. And the fact that we think we can find morality or a reason to excuse anything any of them do is funny. Because we can't.

3. The same thing they did to Vegas is what they did to Kinn. These men are bad people, but we're supposed to root for them. So of course there wil be a moment where there's a switch from "I'm the big bad," to "I want this man I have harmed to love me."

They made Vegas miss and crave Pete to show growth in his arc, the same way they made Kinn seem like a good man after the things he did to Porsche. "Oh, I sexually assaulted you? But I have feelings for you. Oh, I punished you even though I know what actually happened wasn'tyour fault? But my father made me do it. Love me because I hate the bad things that I have done." And it fucking worked. Even people like me who complain about Kinn, still love the kinnporsche ship. Because it has its moments. But it's toxic. So, saying that they tried to play Vegas up as sad cat meow meow after the incident should also be said about kinn. Kinn is also a rapist. He also trapped Porsche in that mansion, excluding him from friends and family to the point that Porsche had to lie to leave the mansion.

My point is,

No one in this fandom has a leg to stand on when it comes to complaining about problematic ships. We can hate the ship all we want, but we can't erase or escape the problematic parts of our own ships.

Unless the person in question doesn't like any ship on the show.

[mikuni14]

About taming Kinn and Vegas

Warning, this post contains my subjective feelings that may seem negative to some fans.

Personally, I started KP expecting it to be a truly "dark & ​​gritty gay romance". Trailers, teasers and MV from my beloved Free Fall suggested that this is what this series would be like. The series finally turned out to be actually pretty romantic and fun, completely contrary to my expectations, but I want to point out that I do not make a problem out of it :) That was my vision - and the creators of the series had a different one. What convinced me to the creators' vision? First of all, the overall performance of the series and, well, Mile and Apo.

Kinn  This couple is COMPLETELY different from my expectations. I WANTED Kinn to be the real mafia boss, I wanted him to be like he was in episode 1. Kinn ultimately turned out to be the opposite of the mafia boss: D but I STILL like him and I like his absolute devotion and adoration of Porsche. It's because the creators of the series gave me TIME to accept this version of Kinn, and also the opportunities and time for Mile and Apo to show WHY Kinn is like that and why Porsche is so worth Kinn’s love and his change. To me Kinn has been “tamed and domesticated”, and while I didn't want it to happen, I DO NOT HATE it, though I still hope Kinn and the Porsche will become the ultimate power couple of the mafia world. Even though I’m fully aware it's only MY dream, because the series clearly shows it's not Kinn's dream. AND IT'S FINE :)

Vegas  After it was clear to me that Kinn wouldn't be as "dark", as I wanted him to be, Vegas became my last hope, to be the last "dark man" standing :D Now it looks it's not gonna happen (although there are still 2 ep left). All this time I was wondering how his romance with Pete would start, because logically there was no way for it to happen. The idea of their similar experiences with their abusive fathers made it possible to establish a beginning of understanding. Unfortunately the show, because of the limited amount of time the couple received, didn't handle it well. Since the writers had to jump VP from beatings to sex in two episodes, they did it on a turbo boost - the domestic violence was not enough to start the romance, so the death of the domestic pet and its ceremonial funeral were added. And from the pet's funeral (a hedgehog, that viewers loved, mede memes about and played silly naming games which is especialy funny in this scenario), our boys jumped straight into bed. I don't know what disappointed me more: Vegas suddenly defined by sad, sob stories, a complete lack of romantic and sexual interest between Pete and Vegas prior the sex, or the gentle love making that sort of, just happened. FOR ME, THEIR STORY DOESN'T MAKE SENSE AND IT'S SIMPLY RUSHED.

Why did I buy househusband Kinn even though I don't want it? Because he had time to develop, he had scenes in which I got used to him, I saw him opening up to Porsche, to his love from the beginning. I've seen how they are both affect by each other.

Vegas and Pete didn't have that chance and that's why I can't bring myself to see what their fans see in them. And I tried, because I want to! After all, this is such a great trope and relationship dynamic! Which deserves a separate series, or at least a mini-series :) Because I simply have to see the development of relationship between the characters to cheer them on. I can't see anything like that between Vegas and Pete. I rewatched their scenes, I studied the gifs carefully, because maybe I missed something. I read posts made by devoted fans. And nothing.

Until their first kiss, Vegas and Pete act like acquaintances with a complicated work relationship: D who are AT THE BEGINNING of a possible romance. It’s very uncertain and tentative, but it's a start. I think, that after a few more episodes, with the right amont of given time, without sad stories, without a dead hedgehog, without stripping Vegas of what makes him unique and such an interesting character, without chaos and abrupt changes/ plot twist, VegasPete would have a chance to have a great, profound romance. 

This is my personal opinion :) Don't get me wrong, I love the show, I love Kinn and Porsche as a couple, also Vegas (until he was made into a sad, pitiful villain) and Pete - but apart. I accept how much the series has become MUSHY, because it being a series mainly about KP and devoting time to them, their love is obvious and understandable to me. But honestly, Vegas and Pete from the last episode are a misunderstanding for me, plot-wise. It's just all too fast, they're already CUDDLING. WTF. As a result, this couple has no depth and intensity at all, because there's no foundation in this relationship, they haven't had time to build it. For comparison, the final scene from the last episode of Old Fashion Cupcake made me literally cry: it was so raw and intense, there was a whole range of emotions, it was very hot, but also very beautiful in such a heartbreaking way. THIS IS WHAT I EXPECTED FROM VEGASPETE. But Nozue and Togawa had time to get there :)

tl:dr Kinn and Vegas have been “domesticated and tamed”. Kinn had time to solidify his “Porsche-induced change". Vegas, which had three scenes to show what Kinn had all season to, is just chaotic. He has ruched scenes presented one after another - of torture, pet's funeral and sex with a man he tortured. How is that respectful to this character? Personally, I think this season should have at least 18 episodes and the VP arc should only begin NOW, or VP should only develop in Season 2.

Sorry, it’s been on my mind since Saturday 😘

[lovely-jily]

"well my legs are jello, so i'd have to disagree"

ok this definitely is no where close to my best writing, i originally wrote it when i was like 15 and i didn't want to start over so i did a shitty revision job. regardless, please enjoy this slightly shitty fic :)

"Alright, everyone. Let's take a shot to start us off," Sirius held up the bottle of firewhisky. It was another Friday night, and tonight the James and Lily got their friends together for a classic game of truth or dare. However, in their version, you take a shot of firewhisky for every dare, and for every truth, a person drinks a little bit of veritaserum, the truth potion. It was brewed by Remus and Sirius (who were quite brilliant if they actually applied themselves to their work), and the ingredients were stolen by none other than Mary and Marlene. James had offered to go with Lily to do it under the cloak, but Lily swore she would never go under that thing with him. Sirius managed to bewitch the potion so that it only lasted a couple minutes, just long enough to answer the truth.

It was the middle of their sixth year, and Lily and James had gotten to the point where they got along quite well, both stubborn and oblivious enough to refuse to think about the apparent tension and feelings between them. Lily was refusing to admit that she was attracted to the git, much less falling for him, and James didn't think that she would ever like him in that way. Regardless, everyone knew that they were bound to get together, and when they did, it would be a historically firey moment.

The group did as they were told, passing the bottle around the circle and taking small swigs. James tried to ignore how Lily's skin glowed in the firelight, and Lily tried to ignore how James's hands looked with the bottle in them.

"First off- James," Sirius faced the boy, who messed up his hair as per usual, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," James said dauntingly, leaning towards Sirius and smirking.

"Okay. Kiss Dorcus," Sirius said, handing James the bottle.

James took a swift swig, and Lily felt both his and Dorcus's nervous eyes on her. Set in her ways of defiance, Lily gave the subtlest of nods to Dorcus to give her permission and then tried her hardest to fight off the feelings of jealousy as James's hand reached Dorcus's cheek, kissing her softly. After a couple seconds, James pulled away and looked again at Lily, whose face seemed a little too red for someone who "wasn't interested in the slightest for a single date, you insufferable twat." Regardless, James smirked at the idea that Lily didn't seem to like him kissing other girls. Maybe his friends were a bit right after all...

"I've just about kissed everyone here now," James said pridefully. Of course, he was proud of something like that.

"Of course you have" Lily rolled her eyes, feeling the slight buzz of firewhisky.

"Yeah, we kissed one time," Sirius smirked as the boys laughed, "It was last year after a gaome. Best day of my life."

"And we accidentally kissed, so I don't think it even counts," Peter ran a hand through his blond hair.

"He came out of nowhere for ours. I was giving him an answer, and suddenly his lips were on mine," Remus shrugged, a soft smirk on his face.

"I got excited. We had been working on a figured out a terribly difficult problem in Arithmancy," James said, a happy smile on his face. James was many things: annoying, obnoxious, prideful, but one thing that Lily really admired about him was how much he loved all of his friends. He was insanely loyal and treated them like family. She knew he would die for them, and Lily couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be someone that James would die for.

"Yeah, I'm a super good kisser in case anyone was wondering," James joked as he looked at Lily, who failed miserably at hiding her blush.

"I think it's your turn to ask," Lily said, trying to fight the intense attraction she felt at that moment. As if it didn't keep her up at night and distracted during her classes...

"Alright. Truth or dare, Lily," James said, winking at her, "I can think of a few good dares."

"Looks like I'll have to pick truth then," Lily said, rolling her eyes.

"You're no fun," Mary elbowed her gently.

Everyone laughed, Lily included. She then sighed, grabbed the bottle of veritaserum and took a shot, the honey tasting liquid burning her throat slightly.

"Who's the most attractive one here?" James asked after she swallowed, Besides Pete, of course."

"Oh James, we all know I'm the prettiest here," said a very offended looking Sirius.

"James," Lily sputtered out uncontrollably and then immediately blushed.

Everyone had a physical reaction to what she said, whether it was Marlene's giggle, Sirius's gregarious laughter, or Mary's "Oh, shit!" Everyone was shocked at the sound of James's name coming from her mouth, including Lily herself. James was smirking, his suspicions slightly confirmed. While this didn't mean that she liked him, per se, it at least told that she enjoyed looking at him a little bit. That was a step in the right direction.

"Shit," she said, still blushing, "You're never gonna let me forget that I told you how hot you are."

This got a loud roar from everyone, and James smiled wide, "What can I say, Evans, I can't help it. You know it's quite difficult being this sexy all the time. Don't even get me started on everyone who just uses me for my insanely hot bod-"

"Shut up," she said, glaring at him, the veritaserum was beginning to wear off, but not before her following sentence, "Just because you are insanely attractive does not mean that I like you at all. You're still insanely difficult to be around."

"Well, you admitted you're attracted to me so I think we should give you veritaserum more often," James winked at her.

"Alright, let's keep this moving," Peter said, clearly as over this situation as Lily was.

Lily inhaled and then looked at Mary, "Truth or dare?"

"Hmm, I think we have far too much sexual tension in this room for me to be comfortable doing a dare, so," Mary smiled, "I pick truth for my own dignity."

"You're boring," Marlene snickered as everyone laughed.

"I'd rather be boring than have to snog any of these idiots."

"That's rude," Remus said, trying to hide his smirk as he and the rest of the boys tried their best to show their offence. The looks of pouting and hurt went right over Mary and Lily's head, though.

Lily and Mary giggled as she asked her if Mary had ever had a sex dream about anyone. Mary laughed, saying that she, Sirius, and Dorcus had a threesome in her dreams the other night. Sirius shuddered, saying that there were "too many boobs" involved.

After a few more rounds, Sirius was dared to snog Lily.

So that is how she ended up straddling Sirius on the couch, giggling like a maniac. She was feeling slightly tipsy, and something in her was excited at the idea of maybe making James a little jealous.

"Can I be honest with you?" Sirius whispered in her ear.

"Of course, Pads," She smiled. While Sirius was just as obnoxious as James was, she honestly enjoyed his company. She had gotten to know him as he usually hung out with Remus as they worked on Prefect paperwork. He had a sweet side that he rarely showed.

"Clearly, I don't even like women. I'm only doing this in hopes that you and James stop dancing around each other and just fuck or something," He smirked, still whispering.

Lily glanced over at James, who was biting his lips, scowling slightly. So he was jealous already, and they hadn't even kissed yet. Good to know.

"I doubt that this will work if that's what you're trying to achieve," She looked at him.

He shrugged, "Worth a shot. Besides, I have a theory that we're the best kissers here, so how about we find out?"

"Sounds great to me," She said as she leaned in, her lips softly to his. Sirius's hand found its way to her lower back, the other on her jaw. She felt his tongue tap her bottom lip, and she copied his motion, her hands entangled in his hair.

His hands traced down her spine and on her waist as she pulled him closer. He kissed down her jaw and neck, and she caught a glimpse of James halfway across the room, frowning and looking at his hands. While Lily was kissing Sirius, all she could think about was his best friend. About how it would feel to run her hands through his hair and down his back. How his stubble would feel against her skin. She imagined his hands on her body-

This was ridiculous. Lily forced herself to focus on what was happening currently instead of daydreaming about that idiot.

Sirius's lips returned to her's, and she felt his grip tighten as the kiss turned more passionate. He moved his hand down her waist and to her bare thigh, touching and squeezing as he went. She moved her hands from his hair to his ears and jaw, feeling as they rhythmically moved together, tongues slightly teasing here and there. He kept one hand on her thigh and then moved the other from her waist to her butt, squeezing softly and then back up to her thigh, causing a laugh from both of them.

"Did you like that?" Lily asked, smirking.

"You got quite the ass, Evans," Sirius giggled.

They walked back to the circle, both still laughing. James wouldn't meet her eye, as the fire next to him was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

"I was too sober for that," Lily smiled and took another swig of the drink.

"Agreed," Sirius said as she handed him the bottle and took a drink. As he exhaled, he turned to James, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," he said, looking a little annoyed still. While he didn't like what Sirius did, he knew that it was an attempt to get him to act on his feelings with Lily.

"Take off Lily's shirt," Sirius said, smirking before adding, "But do it as seductively as you can."

The group giggled and gasped while Lily's whole body heated up, "why am I getting brought into all of these?"

"You can say no," Dorcus took another shot of firewhisky.

"Well, I didn't say that I didn't want to," Lily mumbled slightly and stood up. She watched James take another shot and then walk over to her, swallowing to try to hide his nervousness.

"How about this," he grabbed her biceps and guided her to the corner of the room. Her back hit the wall, and their faces were close, less than an inch apart, and the smell of firewhisky and cologne filled Lily's nostrils. Feeling his hot breath on her lips made her feel things she both wanted and didn't want at the same time. Lily focused her eyes on the table in front of her. This was where she usually sat to do her homework or Prefect paperwork.

"This place seems familiar, doesn't it?" James whispered as his cold hands traced her biceps, making her hot skin even hotter. Although he was doing well covering it, his hands were shaking slightly. The only thing separating skin on skin contact was a small, thin layer of Lily's shirt sleeve, rolled to the elbows like James's.

Lily looked up at the ceiling. He was too much of a temptation, and looking at him, particularly his lips, would make her want for him grow exponentially, and it was already hard enough to fight her feelings off without inhaling his cologne and breath.

"This is where I do my Prefect paperwork with Remus."

"Right. And here's my plan," James said, still whispering as he moved his mouth to her ear, causing chills to cascade down her body, "From now on, every time you sit down to do your work, you'll look at the exact spot that I made you want me."

Lily swallowed as she moved her head straight forward, inhaling as his hands moved to her waist and hooked in the belt loops of her skirt, "How do you know that I'd want you? Or that this memory could possibly hinder my focus on my work?" she asked.

"Because now, every time you sit down to work here, you'll start to think of me instead," he rubbed his nose behind her ear as he slowly untucked her shirt, "and I think it's my turn to act as a distraction now."

Her breath hitched as he moved his hands onto her bare waist. They were calloused and traced their way from her stomach to her lower back repeatedly.

"Also," he added, inhaling and bringing his face in front of hers again, his voice dropping its seductive tone, "I'm sorry."

"S-sorry?" Lily sputtered. It was harder and harder to remember how to breathe normally, how to think. She knew he was right, partly. Lately, whenever she looked at him, she was starting to realize how he had matured. How much he cared about people and how much she admired him. She hated change, and perhaps that's why she hated how she felt about him. He was already enough of a distraction, and so this moment was only going to make it worse.

He brought his hands out from under her shirt to her hips. She was fighting to not reflect how she was feeling inside, fighting to keep herself from closing her eyes and biting her lip, to release under his grasp or run her hands over his body. She was fighting the instinct to release her head back and exhale harshly.

"I don't want you to feel objectified. I would rather do something like this at a time where we both wanted it," James said, moving his head to the crook of her shoulder and then to her ear again, "when it's not really forced."

"Well," Lily bit her lip. She was caving. James knew how to tease a girl, "Who says I don't want this?"

She didn't have much time to wonder if that was a good or bad decision to say what she just said. She felt James stop breathing on her ear before the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. He brought his lips to her ear and whispered, "I knew it."

He softly nibbled her ear, moving a hand up to her hair, moving it out of the way as he started planting small butterfly kisses down her neck. She tightly gripped her skirt, forcing her hands to stay stuck to her side.

"Evans," his kisses turned longer, more passionate, and his hand was on her neck, gripping her hair and the other on her waist. She closed her eyes, fought to breathe and then bit her mouth shut, "You're a bit tense."

"O-oh?" She stuttered as his hand moved from her hair to her jaw.

He nibbled the skin at the bottom of her neck, near the front of her shirt.

"And we haven't even gotten close to what the dare was actually about."

She had forgotten entirely about the dare. She also had forgotten there was a small group across the room; it felt like they were the only two people left in the world. She often felt that way with James.

Her hands were clinging to her skirt for dear life, knowing that if they were released for a second, they would be tangled in his brown curls.

"Well, this is just-" She inhaled every few words, "This is just basic- basic human instinct."

James moved his hand from her hip to her bare waist again, squeezing softly and making her fists clench tighter, "Oh, for sure. nothing else."

She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply as he moved his mouth to the top button, undoing it with his teeth and then kissing her chest. He rubbed his nose up her neck as she felt his hot breath breathe against her ear.

"Fuck it," she said, releasing her skirt and bringing her hands to his muscular shoulders, feeling one of the many benefits that quidditch brought James. She really didn't stand a chance resisting him in the first place and honestly felt proud that she had pushed through for that long.

"Hh, hey," he whispered and nibbled her ear again, making her shudder in his grasp. He snaked his hand from her waist over the top of her shirt and undid the second button, "I think we should play this more often."

"I'm sure you do," Lily ran a hand to his messy hair, grabbing a fist full and then released after a second. Her fingers played with his curls while the other moved to his broad back.

He kissed down her neck again, softly nibbling here and there as he made his way to the third button. As his arms moved to her shoulders, he again undid the button with his teeth, "I also haven't done this before, so I hope you know that I'm feeling pretty proud of myself."

"You're pretty talkative," Lily replied. The third button was undone, and he kissed the top of her cleavage, making her instinctively grip his shirt and hair.

"And you're pretty hot," he brought his face close to hers, and they looked at each other. They were both sticky with sweat and had pink faces that showed how quite excited they were. Lily's lip was in between her teeth, and she brought her hand out of his hair and to his neck.

"You're a bit tense, Potter," she joked as she felt his arm muscles, feeling how nervous he actually was, although she found it quite cute.

"Well, my legs are jello, so I would have to say that I disagree," James said, smiling. He brought his face back to behind her ear. His hands found their way to her neck and thigh, softly massaging each.

Lily chuckled as he ducked down, kissing her chest and undoing another button, but instead of bringing his mouth to her skin, which was more cleavage, he moved on to the next, crouching down slightly. She brought her hands to his hair, both of them getting tangled in his messy brown mop. She figured that since her bra was beginning to be exposed, he wanted to stay as respectful as possible. Her stomach felt a flutter at that thought. He respected her enough to not use her for her body... While that shouldn't be such the big deal that it was, she still smiled at it.

He moved his way down, undoing every button as he went. As he reached the bottom, he brought both of his hands to her waist, making her breath hitch as his cold skin touched her sticky skin. He planted a small kiss just above her belly button, then slowly straightened up, eyes closed as his nose and forehead never broke contact with her skin.

When his face was close to hers, she moved her hands from his hair to his neck. His lips were parted slightly, and her lips tingled as his hot breath hit them.

"Lily," he breathed softly.

Her breath hitched, and her stomach twisted when he said her name. This was a normal reaction when he called her by her first name anyway, as it was more sincere; however, when he said her name like that...

"Y-Yes?" she responded, closing her eyes. Her fingers softly played with his hair.

"You are so beautiful."

The moment those words breathed onto Lily's lips, it felt like everything stopped. Time, her intense heartbeat, her breathing. The only thing she could do was smile softly and put one of her hands on his cheek. His hands felt up her bare skin, over her bra and chest before going over her shoulders, sliding under her shirt. Finally sliding her shirt off her shoulders and arms and onto the floor.

She moved her head into the crease of his neck, not surprised at her feeling of disappointment, "I guess we need to return to everyone else now."

"Oh yeah," he said, wrapping his arms around her, "I completely forgot about them."

[strawberrychapstick14]

I SAW AN OFMD GAME AND I AM PLAYING!

Favorite Ed GIF:

i love this scene he simply is a silly goofy guy. it’s hilarious because my second choice was the one of him sobbing at the window or when he tears up in the pillow fort because taika waititi actually blew my mind

Favorite Stede GIF

absolutely no explanation necessary i think

so ever since i got into this show in april i’ve been looking through rhys darbys filmography and really… this was the first role to my knowledge that wasn’t really just a joke. usually he’s typecast as the funny Guy and he’s really nothing deeper. i love seeing him shine in an emotional complicated role that still is mainly humorous

Favorite Stede Bonnet outfit:

honestly i really liked the first one. it really sets the vibe for the character. also did anyone notice how swoopy his hair is in the first episode??? it is never that swoopy again. but the ring the lace the bright color the vibe it’s immaculate i adore it

Favorite Blackbonnet song: I HAVE SO MANY NOOOOO

okay okay.

Afterglow by Taylor Swift (the most post reunion song ever from both their POV’S???)

Never Love An Anchor by The Crane Wives

This Love (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift

Rolling In The Deep-Adele

Francis Forever-Mitski

Oh also gold rush and SOS and dancing in the moonlight and seaside rendezvous i’m dropping my playlist links!!!

Favorite OFMD fic trope: i’m gonna be honest i haven’t read any ofmd fics. but i just really love the idea of them being happy again. certainly hope that’s Still On The Cahds

Ed or Stede hair: stede for sure. the thickness? the dedication? magnificent. every time i draw ed’s hair i want to quit it’s so hard to get all the little white streaks in

Longest you’ve gone between rewatches: probably now and the last time i watched it which was in… Early July??? Maybe? it’s been so long because i’m early july i was watching it simultaneously with my dad and my friend. so i would go over to her house, watch episodes, and go back and watch episodes with my dad. it was a lot

Hiding in the ship Lucius vs Ghost Lucius: well obviously i don’t want him to be dead so realistically hiding in the ship also because i don’t want pete to be sad. but i drew dead lucius last week and oh boy i love drawing dead people so i wouldn’t mind as long as he’s still there but like dead

Favorite crew member: how DARE YOU. jim. HOW DARE YOU. i keep trying to come up with seconds but i list everyone. i love them all. how DARE YOU.

if anyone actually read this whole thing put in the tags banana

[jdaydreamer3]

The Bering and Wells Show

I’ve been working on a fic for some time that is my version of how I wanted Warehouse 13 to end.  I’m still working on this fic - it’s evolved into something bigger than I originally intended, including flashback scenes and an artifact that I’m still trying to figure out the logistics for, so as I’m sure is a surprise to no one, it’s not complete. I hope it will be someday, but in the meantime, this seemed like a good opportunity to share a couple separate excerpts from this story - for which I still don’t have an official title for. 

She was happy for Pete.  Like Artie, life had sought to give him a second chance at love when Kelly walked through the doors of the bed and breakfast again.

And even though he had panicked at first, seeing Kelly again, seeing everything he ever wanted right in front of him, a ready-made family considering Kelly was nearly eight months pregnant at the time, unattached and looking worried for more reasons than her grandmother succumbing to an artifact, things had eventually worked out.

Though the path to true love never did run smooth and Pete was as guilty of that as anyone.  In a last attempt to keep everything the same even though everything was changing, he made himself believe it was Myka whom he was in love with. She shakes her head at the memory, recalling the awkward conversation that had followed.

“How can you say I’m not in love with you, Mykes?  I told Steve I was in love with you, and he knew I was telling the truth.”

“You talked to Steve about this before coming to me?” she said exasperated.

“Well, yeah,” Pete said beginning to look uncertain about the affair.

“Okay,” Myka exhaled a sigh, rubbing at her forehead.  “First of all, Steve can’t tell who you’re in love with, Pete.  He can only tell if you’re lying.”

“Yeah, but he believed me when I told him I was in love with you.”

“Because you believed it!”  Gentler she continued, “And I know you love me, just as I love you, but we’re not in love with each other.  There’s a difference.”

“How can you be so sure I’m not?” Pete asked.

Myka cracked a smile.  “Because you never give me the larger piece of dessert.”

“What?  Dessert?” he startled before remembering a long-ago conversation.  “Yeah, well you don’t eat sugar,” he said half-heartedly, remembering Myka’s long ago profession on the subject but also knowing it wasn’t entirely accurate.

“We both know that isn’t true,” Myka said glancing at an opened package of Twizzlers on the table where she’d been completing paperwork before Pete interrupted her with his revelation.  “I eat sugar – just not in copious amounts the way most of the rest of you do.  And we both know you would give the woman you love the larger portion of dessert.  You said so once before, if you remember.”

Pete nodded thoughtfully.  “With Kelly.”

“With Kelly,” Myka agreed.  “You know before when we had this conversation about her, she wasn’t willing to know about the warehouse and you weren’t willing to give it up for her.  I think that’s all changed now, don’t you?  You’re ready to live a normal life.  And by some… weird coincidence, Kelly is here again, brought back to our doorstep by an artifact, no less,” Myka laughed at the irony.  “It’s as though the universe, or at least the warehouse, is handing you a second chance to have the life you want – to have the family you so desire.  All you have to do is take the first step.”

There was a moment of heavy silence that fell between them then, Myka well aware Pete was trying to get a handle on his emotions.  His voice hoarse when he asked, “What about you, Myka?  Don’t you want a chance at a normal life?”

Normal life.  The words made Myka think of Helena and she swallowed hard at the thought of the woman left behind on a suburban driveway in Boone all those months ago.  Of the way Helena had left everything she knew, everything she was to try to live a normal life.  If only Helena had been normal, Myka wouldn’t have found it so difficult, even now, to let her go.

“Who wants normal when you can have all this?” Myka tried to joke, a hand waving towards the warehouse floor.  “Aside from you apparently,” she smiled.  “I don’t want normal, Pete.  I belong here with the warehouse.”

“Yeah, you do,” Pete agreed.  “And the warehouse definitely needs you.”

That conversation took place well over fifteen years and four children ago.   She really should plan for another coffee date with Pete soon.  It’s been too long since their last meeting.  She knows he’d love to hear about this latest retrieval, joking with her about getting old but so grateful that she was actually getting old because the alternative was unacceptable.

***

They had gotten into another heated argument over nothing really.  A regular occurrence these days sadly.  Myka knew better than to let her emotions run so high - knew first-hand the havoc such emotions could wreak while on the warehouse floor.  She didn’t notice the electric currents gathering intensity and speed until a moment before she and HG were showered with goo.  Apparently, someone else in the office did notice the currents.  

She knew she should be grateful - being gooed was better than being shocked, but it had been a source of pride that she hadn’t been gooed like this since her first week working in the warehouse when she and Pete had been arguing about something.  From the look on HG’s stunned face, quickly morphing into a look of utter distaste, she had never had the pleasure.

“Don’t swallow it,” Myka warned and in a huff of frustration without another word, she spun on her heel and stalked back to Artie’s office, leaving a trail of  goo-covered footprints behind on the warehouse floor.  She could hear HG muttering under her breath as she followed behind.

The climb up the stairs to the office had been tricky at best, Myka’s boots slipping more than once from the substance that was oddly both slippery and sticky.  By the time she finally made it inside Artie’s office, only to notice the smug looks on both Claudia and Pete’s faces at the sight of she and HG covered in the purple, sticky substance, she was trembling with anger and frustration.

“Maybe a shower will cool you both down,” Pete waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Her mood only darkened.

“Which one of you miscreants turned the goo on us?” Helena seethed from beside her.

Claudia and Pete both quickly pointed a finger at the other.  

“It was a joint effort, really,” Claudia finally admitted.

Myka didn’t say a word, only glared at them both before disappearing through the umbilicus door, on the way to her SUV to drive back to the B&B for a shower and clean change of clothing.

Still, the anger had been better than the silence.  Before silence between them had always been companionable, with a pleasant sort of tension, now it was fraught with tension of another kind.

When Myka returned to her bedroom, still towel drying her hair after a long shower to remove the goo, she found Pete sprawled out on her bed, lazily throwing and catching a tennis ball.  She caught his eye briefly before changing course to her dresser to pull out a pair of clean socks.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Pete.”

“I figured you’d say that, but I think we both know you need to talk about it.  About this thing between you and HG.”

“There is no thing between me and HG.”

Pete laughed but it was devoid of humor.  “Come on, Mykes, we both know there’s been a thing between you and HG since the moment she trapped us to her ceiling in London.”

“Says the man who thought he was in love with me little more than two weeks ago.”

“Okay, okay, I was wrong about you and me, but I’m not wrong about this.”

“She left, Pete and then she stayed – with them.”

“So I am right - you do love her!”

Myka glared at him.

“She came back.  She’s here now.   It’s almost like you’re being given a second chance – something you pointed out to me little more than two weeks ago,” he repeated her words from that earlier conversation.

“She won’t stay.”

“Maybe she would if you asked her to.  Maybe you just have to take that first step.”

[germanicseidr]

Sinterklaas Debate

Zwarte Piet/Black pete is currently a huge discussion in both the Netherlands and Belgium. The faithful helpers of Sinterklaas, who give children presents and joy, are seen as racist by a very small group of people. This very small group of people are ruining a modern day celebration that has its roots in  pre-Christian Germanic spirituality.

I have incredibly fond memories celebrating Sinterklaas as a kid like any other Dutch/Belgian person has, so this issue lies quite close to my heart. That is why I am writing this long post. I will explain in short what the celebration of Sinterklaas is in its modern form and on what ancient pagan belief it is based. My fellow Dutchies are of course aware what Sinterklaas is but maybe by explaining this to non-Dutch people, they will understand better why we love to celebrate Sinterklaas with people dressed up in blackface.

Each year around the middle of November, the saint Nicholas arrives in the Netherlands with his steamboat and a group of helpers called 'Zwarte Pieten'. Nicholas then usually makes a small tour through the city where he arrives and is then greeted by the mayor of that city. Usually everything goes wrong just before his arrival to make the kids fear for their presents. Everything turns out alright in the end and Sinterklaas moves into a castle until it is his birthday.

On his birthday, 5th december in the Netherlands and 6th december in Belgium, Sinterklaas visits every house in the country with his faithful helpers and leaves behind presents for the kids. Only children who behaved well during the year receives presents. After his birthday, Sinterklaas leaves again with his ship back to Spain, his supposed homeland, until he returns again the following year.

Now this celebration is very old and it has seen many changes in the way we celebrate it. These changes were inspired by military conflicts that occured in the low countries during the 16th century.

The celebration of Sinterklaas is based on the ancient belief of Wodan and his wild hunt. There are still a lot of similarities between Wodan and Sinterklaas. Both appear/arrive during November, which was seen as the start of winter. Both arrive with a small army, Wodan is accompanied with the spirits of the dead and Sinterklaas travels with his 'zwarte pieten'. Both ride on a white horse, both are carrying a staf, both are depicted as old men with long beards and both are wearing a long cloak.

Now according to old pagan beliefs, you should avoid Wodan and his wild hunt like the plague. If you were unfortunate enough to see Wodan in the skies, you would soon die and join him in his hunt. To prevent this from happening, people gave offerings to the hunt. The midwinterhorn was blown as well to greet the winter and the hunt, a practice that is still practiced in the Netherlands until this very day. You could per example offer a carrot to Wodan's horse Sleipnir. Dutch and Belgian children give carrots to Sinterklaas's horse Amerigo in present times.

With the arrival of Christianity in Germanic territories, the pagan practices started to slowly die out. The church desperately tried to demonize most of the Germanic pagan customs and sadly Wodan's wild hunt was also on the church's list. The belief in Wodan's hunt was very strong, too strong for the church to completely root out so the Church didn't ban it but simply made it Christian by removing Wodan and adding a real existing saint, Saint Nicholas of Myra.

Saint Nicholas/Sinterklaas was born on december 6th in 342AD in Myra, which lies in modern day Turkey. Nicholas was from a very wealthy family and managed to become a bisshop. According to the church, Nicholas was able to perform several miracles from the day he was born. He was supposedly able to stand up straight in his bath and praise God for the miracle of his birth directly after he was born. He was able to memorize all the names of the stars visible at night as a child and refused to drink his mother's milk on wednesday and friday.

As an adult he performed more 'miracles' which led to the church declaring him as a saint after his death. Nicholas supposedly saved three innocent people from being executed. Another legend tells how Nicholas saved a man from selling his daughters into slavery by giving the man pouches of gold. Yet another story tells how Nicholas brought three students back to life after they were murdered by an innkeeper. This is how Nicholas became the saint of children, the reason why the celebration of Sinterklaas is all about children. Nicholas also saved sailors from storms by calming the seas, is seen as the protector of whores and he freed slaves from a group of Arabic pirates.

Now this freeing of slaves becomes an important subject in the modern day celebration of Sinterklaas because of the 'zwarte pieten'. Who are these zwarte pieten exactly? Zwarte pieten are the Christian version of the dead who accompany Wodan. There are two possible theories on the origin of the 'zwarte piet'. In both theories they are the faithful servants of the saint Nicholas but one theory suggests that these faithful helpers are in fact slaves who had been freed by him. In return for their freedom, they help Nicholas in his quest to spread happiness amongst children. The other theory simply suggests that these helpers are black because they climb into chimneys and get soot on their faces.

Why if Nicholas is from Turkey, does he live in Spain? The answer lies behind a military conflict between the Byzantine empire and the Ottoman empire. The remains of Nicholas were moved to Bari, a city in southern Italy after the invasion of the Ottomans into the Byzantine empire. Bari was once part of the Sicilian kingdom where Charles V was crowned as the emperor of the Holy Roman empire. He was crowned emperor in 1519 and became the leader of a large empire which included the low countries.

Charles V's son would later become the infamous Filips II of Spain. Every Dutch person knows the name Filips II. Filips II ruled over spain and the Dutch territories, he was a loyal Catholic who wanted to root out Protestants. Unfortunately most of the Dutch territories were Protestant. This lead to incredibly high tensions between the Dutch and the Spanish. Add the unreasonable high taxes in the equation and you have a powder keg that is ready to explode.

All hell broke loose in the low countries during 1566AD. Protestants were fed up with the Catholics and the 'Beeldenstorm' started. A period during which Catholic churches were plundered and destroyed. Filips II sent duke Alva to the Netherlands in order to sort out this problem but this only led to a war that would last at least 80 years until the Netherlands became a completely independent country.

During this whole conflict, Sinterklaas was seen as an evil Catholic saint so the whole celebration changed in the North of the country where the Protestants were the strongest. No longer was Nicholas the kind and helpful saint but now he kidnaps children and takes them back to Spain. He beats up children with sticks and kidnaps them away from their families.

It took until the year 1850AD for another huge change to happen. The conflict between Spain and the Netherlands was a thing in the past by now and even if the Catholics and Protestants still hate each other, the persecutions and witch hunts stopped and the Spanish inquisition was abolished by Napoleon Bonaparte. No longer was Nicholas seen as a boogeyman. Jan Schenkman, a Dutch teacher from the 19th century, published several books which showed the first depictions of the modern day 'zwarte piet'.

In the third edition of Schenkman's works, 'zwarte piet' appears dressed in the costume that we recognize today. The clothing seems to have been inspired by both sailors clothing, Saracen clothing and the clothing of servants. The now black servant of Nicholas became incredibly popular and virtually unchanged since the 1850's until the year 2016.

In 2016, a very small group of black people suddenly decided to declare zwarte piet as racist. This is currently an incredibly huge debate which leads to riots and civil unrest. Most Dutch people do not view zwarte piet as racist. Zwarte piet is black because of the soot is an often made argument or zwarte piet is actually a positive symbol against slavery because he is a freed slave, Nicholas did free people from slavery.

I personally do not view 'zwarte piet'as racist. Zwarte piet is part of our Dutch/Belgian tradition and changing an old tradition because some people feel butthurt by black face is a big shame in my opinion. I hope I have been able to give you some more information about the very long history of Sinterklaas and his zwarte pieten and I apologize for this incredibly long post.

Here are photos of: Wodan and his wild hunt, Portrait of Nicholas of Myra made by Carlo Crivelli (1472), Nicholas bringing three children back to life (1500), Jan Schenkman's depiction of zwarte piet (1850), Arrival of Sinterklaas in Purmerend (1885), Schenkman's depiction of zwarte piet that became popular (1885), A comparison between Wodan and Sinterklaas,

[roodllle]

Year in Review - Animal Crossing New Horizons

I started writing this review/criticism in May of 2020 but decided to update it as the year went along and post it on the anniversary of NH’s release. I would like to preface that this is mostly going to be full of questions of criticisms, I love this game. I have not been able to put it down since I got it on March 20th. My first AC game was NL and then I played HHD. I was ecstatic when they announced NH at E3 2019 and kept trying to find other games to fit in my AC shaped hole in my heart but I wasn’t able to fill it till this game came out. I feel like the pace of the game is great with how you build up to unlocking terraforming and 5 stars, and I feel like the updates are well timed especially with how crazy 2020 was for everybody. That being said there were some things that irked me. 

Some of the points I will bring up came from other people/commenters I have seen on here, Discord, Reddit, and Twitter that I also agree with. Some other points are from Youtubers such as ShayMay and ChuyPlays. And others are from me. 

With that out of the way, let’s get on with the review. Warning, I guess, don’t expect this to be an essay, this is just a patchwork quilt made up of thoughts.

Terraforming

I wish cliffs/tiers had a smaller level? Like how we’re able to make stepping stones for our rivers if we don’t want to put a bridge down/use our vaulting pole. I just wish there was a cliff alternative. 

Another cliff alternative would be if we could put bridges between cliffs. I think we’ve all been there where we see this picture 

          thought ‘we can do that!!” then realized it was photoshopped

When we go into terraforming, I wish a grid showed up on our island. It would make it much easier to avoid hitting the wrong square when I’m trying to change a river. 

Having us be able to “close” a waterfall from a lower level but not create a new on at the same spot. 

Also the fact we can add a 4th tier but can’t put anything on it is just strange to me. I know we have to have a limit to how high we can go, but at least let me put nature stuff, such as trees/flowers/bushes, on top of it instead of just a flat piece of land. 

Houses

Why no ceiling items? Find it odd they added a bunch of stuff in HHD and didn’t add that to the new mainline game

There’s no reason I can think of to why we can’t access our storage when we’re crafting inside our house. 

Buildings

Dodo Airlines

The Dodo Islands right now are very boring and barely use them. I have enough money and materials to not go farming and save up all my NMTs for when I go villager hunting, which has also become a rarity. I think it would be a good idea to make some islands seasoned themed. Have them be all rare, but have an island where it’s fall and has maple leaves falling, a cherry blossom one, one with snowflakes. I wouldn’t recommend they make Holiday themed ones, but having seasonal ones would be nice.

When I mess up a dodo code or accidentally hit ‘make a bridge’ instead of incline, etc. why do I have to restart the ENTIRE conversation instead of the characters just being “oh? did you mean “x” or “would you like to retype it?” like is it that hard??  

Resident Services

As much as I love Isabelle this game has made me very indifferent towards her. I think they gave her a role that didn’t need to exist. They could have either let us roam around without any warnings to who was roaming around our island, in the campsite, or any weather updates. Just have us rely on our villagers, the TV, and our eyeballs. OR they could have given us a social media like app and/or a weather app. Instead, they gave us Isabelle that only announces something once a month.

Nook’s Cranny

This might just be me but can they add a little DIY area in the store? Maybe just make to where you can only customize things?? This is more out of convenience than an actual problem  

Speaking of customization, since you can make medicine but also buy can we do the same for the custom kits and bait. Like make it where we can buy bait and also make our own custom kits? I just think it’s weird that they give us either/or for medicine but not for the other 2 that I honestly use way more than medicine.

Why do the Able Sisters get to have all of the colors of an item in their shop but Nook’s Cranny can’t? And why can’t we just be able to customize all items that have multiple looks/colors? Example, why can’t I just be able to change the wood type for the antique set instead of having to buy each one? I get that the furniture catalog is already small, but that’s not my fault. They’ve decided to not add past furniture sets into NH. 

Able Sisters

Let us multi select clothes instead of it just being how much we can wear. idc if it’ll just put those clothes in our personal storage and then we’ll have to run home and put it in that storage, I just hate having to walk back in and out every time I want a dress in multi colors. ALSO tell us if we already bought it, like a little storage icon or something

Why can’t we hang any article of clothing on the back wall, why do we have to either make it or have the OG qr designer come to our island? 

Why can’t we have the transparent option when designing clothes? I think it would make many designer’s lives easier instead of having to make 8 versions of the same outfit.

NPCs

I have played this game almost every day since it came out, minus 2 days. I have also been able to make friends on discord that help with trading/cataloging/etc. I have all of Saharah’s, Kicks’, Label’s, and Redd’s items. I have all of the fish/bug models I want and have no desire to “catch them all”. I haven’t talked to Wisp in months because I have most of the items and his idea of “expensive” is 10k bells. The only NPC I actively look forward to is Celeste because even though I now have all of her DIYs, she still gives out star fragments, regular large or horoscope, when I talk to her. 

What I’m wondering is if they’re planning on doing anything else with these characters. Before I speak further I’m going to weed out characters that I am actually fine with. CJ and Flick will always be there if I want a bug/fish model, I understand that Saharah/Kicks/Redd have a ton of stuff to get and w/o the help of my discord friends, I probably wouldn’t have gotten everything till late 2021. 

So that leaves Label and Wisp. I understand Wisp is there for beginners, but now that I’m at a point where I am a bell millionaire and have most of the Nook’s items cataloged, there is no reason for me to talk to him. I wish Nintendo had put in a system where depending on the person who Wisp is talking to, it determines how much money you have in your bank account/looks at your catalog, Wisp’s item’s worth goes up.

As for Label...I never saw her as viable. I also thought the tickets were dumb and you don’t even have to talk to her to have her items show up in the shop the next day. I think it would be great if when you bought all of her items, she decided to join the Able’s sisters in their shop like in NL and then have Gracie show up in her place for the weekly NPC. 

Where is Blanca? Or Brewster? Or Shrunk, Katrina, Gracie, or Kapp’n and his family? I understand we will probably never see characters like Harriet or Pete because they have been replaced by a new system, but what is the excuse for these other characters? I’m hoping they show up in year 2 of NH but...we’ll see.

Villagers

I think having your first villagers living in basic homes is a good idea but one that quickly gets annoying. I found Sherb while villager hunting for the 1st time and have had him ever since, but his house is stuck at basic lazy setup. Instead of me going back and forth on whether or not i should trust somebody enough to hold Sherb, get somebody else out, then get him to move back to my island, You can have it to where you let them leave, then just wait till he comes to the campsite to visit and reinvite him. You get his actual house and he still remembers you. This could also go for you accidentally letting somebody go or letting somebody go then regretting it. Also it’d be fun to see some old villagers again.

I was curious and looked back on past games to see how many new villagers were released each game and NH has been the least amount. NL released 112 new villagers in total while NH has released 8. I’m hoping they might release more down the line but, hella disappointing imo. Along with the Sanrio update and adding those characters to the game, I am more hopeful that they’ll be adding new characters!

Having an “event” of sorts where you visit a villager’s house and they’re looking inside their closet. They look at you in surprise when you walk in and sheepishly explain that they were going through their clothes/items. They then decide to ask you for help since they can’t decide what to get rid of/what to keep and think you have a good eye for that sort of thing. Basically, a way to get rid of any clothes/items your villager somehow received bc I guess Isabelle scolding them isn’t enough.

A big problem I feel like everybody has is the villager dialogue. Yes they added sub personality types for each personality but they are not perfectly cut in half, ex. are the Sisterly types where there are 4 B types and 20 A types, like?? How I have “fixed” this problem is by having one of each personality type on my island so I always have different conversations with my villagers, but I understand not a lot of people do that. Some people just want normal/peppy types on their island bc they’re cute as hell, I get it. I know it would be...difficult to come up with unique dialogue for all 399 villagers, including Sanrio, but....you could at least for the “gimmicky” villagers. Some examples of these villagers are Ribbot and Sprocket, Lucky and Ankha, the super hero squad, and Kabuki. 

Quality Life stuff

Why cant we sit AND wish on stars? And I don’t mean the sit emote; why can’t I sit on a bench and wish on stars?

It sucks when I’m about to hit my rocks or just do a lot of dig work and then my shovel breaks in the middle of it. To show the tool is about to break, cracks should start to form on the handle and get deeper/longer as you keep using it, starting when you have 5 uses left. You can also add an auditory element by making the tool sound like its struggling when you are using it. Net/Shovel/Axe/Fishing Pole can have cracks show up on the handle, Slingshot can have crack show up at the bottom of the 2 spokes while having 1 at the top of the handle. And the watering can have cracks at the base of the can.

If our inventory is full when I dig up a flower, why can’t I replace it with another flower to bury? And if I can dig up an item at an diagonal item, I should be able to bury it again at the same angle.

Other

Having more...liveliness?? on the island, idk how else to say it. Example is whenever you travel by plane there's a chemtrail in the sky afterwards, maybe just seeing other planes go by throughout the day. Maybe you can get a hint Redd or Gulliver will be visiting you tomorrow if you see their boats beyond the horizon, Redd’s just crusin’ and the Gulls’ boats looking messed up. On a week where you don't have a new camper, maybe have an old villager visit. That leads me too

I wish villager’s doors could count as “exterior decorating” and we can just put any ornamental on there instead having to hope that your villager will put the wreath on their own door. 

Conclusion

If you read this whole thing holy shit, thanks!! Go treat yourself on my part lol If you disagreed with me or whatever feel free to chat with me about it! 

[marvella15]

Astaire & Rogers Rewatch Part 7: Shall We Dance

• Something I didn’t consciously realize about this film until reading Hannah Hyam’s book is that Astaire and Rogers don’t dance together until nearly an hour in. That hasn’t happened since Gay Divorcee. What was anyone thinking??

• Shall We Dance suffers from a lot of extra crap that it didn’t need, such as extraneous characters, far too many interruptions in the Astaire and Rogers relationship, and a bunch of weirdness like life-sized dolls, life-like masks, and backbending ballerinas. The film also has a lot of wasted potential, including a great score and songs by George and Ira Gershwin. 

The Gershwins were already well acquainted with Astaire and Rogers. The duo had first met when she was starring in the brothers’ show, Girl Crazy, and Astaire was brought in to help with choreography. Rogers was close friends with George and even dated him. Astaire had known the brothers prior, having starred in a few of their shows with his sister, Adele. 

• Our characters/actors: Peter “Petrov” Peters (Fred Astaire), Linda Keene (Ginger Rogers), Jeffrey Baird (Edward Everett Horton), Arthur Miller (Jerome Cowan)

• Around the time I was first really into classic Hollywood films, including these ones, my family and I adopted a new dog. I annoyed my parents to no end by suggesting we name him Peter P. Peters. Don’t know why I latched onto that name but I did. 

• Even in the massive portrait of Petrov, you can see Astaire has his fingers curled in rather than fully extended.

• Astaire’s ballet attire lets us once again see just how skinny he is. 

• Always loved how Peter does a little tap at the rhythmic sound of his name and birthplace: Pete Peters, Philadelphia PA.

• Rogers’ cardigan with all of its baubles is truly awful looking. It will only be out done by a terrible floral dress she wears later. 

• I do however like that she shoves her handsy stage partner into a fountain. Why are men constantly the worst?

• “And why must there always be a kiss at the second-act curtain?” is YET ANOTHER example of these films trolling us. Not once up until this point has any act of an Astaire/Rogers outing included a kiss between them. 

• Linda’s disinterest in even meeting Petrov is based on the assumption that he’s a “simpering toe dancer.” While that’s incorrect, she’s not wrong that he is indeed another man who has seen a picture of her and wants to tell her he can’t live without her. So she gets partial credit. 

• If Peter wasn’t totally smitten before, Linda’s jab, “It’s just a game little American boys play” gets him. 

• As a mixed race number, “Slap That Bass” is incredibly unusual for the era. Astaire was a great admirer of African-American dancers and was strongly influenced by Bill Robinson and John W. Bubbles. I love the blend of all of the voices in this song. 

• The dance portion of “Slap That Bass” gives Astaire a chance to show off more of his innovative mind and choreography. He dances in time with the sounds of the ship’s engine and compels the camera to follow him across and up the vast set. The dance is also special in that we have behind the scenes footage of Astaire rehearsing, thanks to a home video shot by George Gershwin. 

• Peter making Jeffrey believe the boat is rocking may seem a bit unbelievable but having been on a large ship myself, sometimes you don’t realize it’s rocking until you see other passengers weaving or a giant chandelier swaying. 

• I usually skip most if not all of Jeffrey and Arthur’s scenes together. They slow down this film soooo much.

• Like in all of their films, songs are sometimes heard in the background before the actual musical number they appear in. But because this film is scored by the Gershwins, there’s an array of shorter pieces of music that are all their own, such as the whimsical score heard while Rogers and then Rogers with Astaire are walking her dog.

• The dog Peter borrows to give himself an excuse to talk to Linda hits his bark cue perfectly and looks extremely happy about it. 

• I would love to know what exactly Astaire and Rogers are talking about while walking her dog. Maybe they were given lines that were then not recorded or maybe it’s improv. But it seems very natural. 

Rogers did say that Astaire was a wonderful conversationalist and was adept at talking while dancing, something she noted most men couldn’t manage. 

• Wow do I love it when Rogers gets to be extra sassy

Peter: “Isn’t it wonderful being here tonight like this? Still on the same boat together.”

Linda: “Oh, I seldom change boats in mid-ocean.”

• “Beginner’s Luck” is such a charming, fast song that Astaire delivers wonderfully. He hardly seems to take a breath. 

A jazzed up version of “Beginner’s Luck” is the song Peter tried to dance to in Paris but the record kept getting stuck. 

• Something this movie fails at is letting Linda and Peter’s relationship continue to progress before throwing more obstacles in their way. We know from the gossip of the ship’s staff that they have been spending a lot of time together. When we see them, they are having a relaxing evening that’s incredibly domestic: sitting side by side on the deck while she knits and he smokes. Wouldn’t it have been nice to see more of this part of their relationship? 

• Why on earth did Peter think sending Jeffrey to fix the false baby rumors was the right decision? Jeffrey can’t handle a single thing. 

• Infuriated at the rumors that she’s married to Peter and pregnant with their baby, Linda tries to call him. “Operator! Get me Mr. Petrov. What? Don’t you dare congratulate me!”

• The theme of this movie is supposed to be the blend of dancing and music styles. Peter’s ballet and Linda’s jazz styles are one example, George Gershwin’s varied score, which switches from jazz to waltz to foxtrot to classical, etc, is another. But it’s a fairly weak concept that doesn’t quite land and reportedly, neither Astaire or Ira Gershwin was wild about it. 

• I love the new version of “Slap That Bass” that plays as Peter and Jeffrey enter the rooftop club. 

• When Rogers sings “They All Laughed,” she is singing to an off-screen Cary Grant, her friend and sometimes date who was visiting the set at the time. 

She is also wearing a dress with a horrible pattern. It’s supposed to be floral but it always makes me think of amoebas. Maybe it looked better in color?

• Astaire clearly has fun during the part where Peter hams it up a bit with his ballet next to Linda’s tapping. 

• In some ways, “They All Laughed” is reminiscent of “Isn’t it a Lovely Day.” They’re testing each other, trading glancing as they see whether the other can keep up with the increasingly complex steps. Until now, Linda didn’t know Peter could dance this way so her surprise and amusement unfolds slowly as the routine progresses. But he has been grinning since the start because he’s hoping to win her back through this dance.

• This is another duet where it takes a long time before they touch. The first physical contact is just her executing a series of spins with the help of his fingers. And it’s during this part that Rogers finally breaks into a wide smile.  

• When he spins her up onto the piano the first time, she happily waits for him to retrieve her. And when he spins her into a seated position and upright again a few times don’t miss how he looks at her with a wry, slightly mischievous smile. 

• The Linda doll is so creepy and not lifelike. Who was fooled by this?

Also, Arthur is terrible. Jeffrey is terrible too but he’s an idiot so I’m more willing to let it slide. 

• Peter walking out of Linda’s bedroom in the morning in his robe right in front of her fiancé while she is in her negligee is pretty funny. 

• Peter and Linda’s nice day out is just further proof that this movie should’ve spent more time on the two of them together rather than breaking them up every few minutes. 

• “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off” is a fun song, though Astaire gets most of the good words imo. However, Rogers does do an extra affectation to some of her lyrics and that makes them funnier. 

At one point when she’s singing, he turns to her and for just a moment his face goes soft in that way it does sometimes when he looks at her. 

• Some film historians have labeled this dance as not that great when compared to other Astaire and Rogers numbers. But I’ve always found it very enjoyable and innovative. While Gene Kelly probably takes the gold medal for dancing on skates in It’s Always Fair Weather, Astaire and Rogers did it first, did it well, and deserve some extra credit for a duet on skates rather than a solo. 

Rogers also deserves some extra credit since the idea to dance on skates was supposedly hers. And probably deserves even more credit for doing this dance on skates while also in heels. 

• For some reason I really enjoy that they perform this number in their hats and street clothes. It’s so informal and feels like something you do on a fun date. 

• Throughout this dance, Peter continues to be the playful one, as he’s been in their interactions in the film, and Linda is the more serious one who needs to be coaxed into having fun. Maybe this is why Astaire frequently glances at her and even spends long seconds watching her at different parts as they move into the next series of steps. Rogers is more reserved in her expressions but whenever they are face to face, she appears happiest. 

A few times she looks triumphant, leading me to wonder if they or she had finally nailed a section that was giving them or her trouble. 

• Can’t say for certain but I swear she almost falls when they do the backwards steps. She just baaaarely snags his hand in time. 

They had to film this dance something like 150 times so I imagine there was more than one time where at least one of them did indeed fall. 

• The circular dance they do leading up to the end is based on a dance Astaire and his sister made famous in their time on the stage. 

• Apparently the grassy bank they tumble onto wasn’t padded so those fake grimaces of pain aren’t that fake. Their exchange after the tumble feels very much like married banter to me:

Peter: “Yes, it was my idea.”

Linda: “Have you any more of them?”

Peter, exaggerating: “No.”

• They’re such a good match:

Linda: “Peter, you’ve got to marry me.”

Peter: “Why, Linda, this is so sudden.”

• Oh 1930s Hays Code humor. The cop who overhears their conversation thinks she’s pregnant and pressuring the father of the baby into marrying her. Hurr hurr hurr.

• Heh:

Linda: “I beg your pardon but what are grounds for divorce in this state?”

Clerk: “Marriage.”

• It will never make sense to me that a dance was not planned in this film for “They Can’t Take That Away From Me.” It’s a truly lovely song. I know Astaire and Rogers will dance to it more than ten years later in The Barkleys of Broadway but it’s just not the same. 

It’s also a good reminder in the film that Peter has legitimate feelings for Linda and she does for him but they’re far more conflicted. Though he must sense he’s hooked her in a bit since he becomes very aloof once they return to the hotel in the stupid hope of making her want him more? Idk, men are dumb. 

• “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” carries special poignancy because it became a form of consolation to Ira Gershwin after his brother suddenly died two months after this film was released. 

• Oh Linda’s face when she walks in to see Peter with the loathsome Lady Tarrington is so sad and crestfallen. Ever thought you and your crush were finally on the same page only to find them canoodling with someone else? 

Although, she could’ve knocked first instead of just walking straight into his room…

• The ballet portion of the finale is weird and unappealing in every way. Harriet Hoctor was known for the backbend dance she does in this film. Maybe it was something spectacular in 1937?? but it doesn’t hold up. 

One thing I’ll say about Astaire’s duet with Hoctor, it’s a great chance to see him in a romantic duet with someone other than Rogers and notice how different he acts. No secret smile, no lingering looks, no whispered words, no soft expressions. 

• “Shall We Dance” is another upbeat song that deserves more than being featured in the remaining few minutes of the film. Their dance is far too short but wonderful all the same. Her delight when he finds her always makes me smile. She also executes some impressive full length lunges that I couldn’t do at this moment much less in a dress and heels in the middle of a dance number. 

For a few seconds, his fingers press into the exposed dip of her spine in yet another example of Victorian hotness. 

• And so we finish film number 7. Shall We Dance underperformed at the box office and wasn’t a critical darling. Everyone, the actors included, started to feel the magic was coming to an end. Coming up next is a film I pretty much never rewatch: Carefree. 

[apparitionism]

Decalogue 2

This is a belated continuation of my Bering-and-Wells tenth-anniversary piece: a listing of “commandments,” one issued by each year of their association. I did the first five years in part 1. The ensuing years are of course both easier (I get to make up what happened!) and harder (oh lord, I have to make up what happened...). So this second five years’ worth of commandments—this second pentalogue?—will probably be both worse and better than the first. As always, I’m in it for the talking, but also for the idea that Myka and Helena would get things right, and wrong, and right again. I testify regularly that it’s hard work to sustain a long-term relationship. You have to want to do that work, and it isn’t always pleasant. But I’m absolutely certain that B&W would power through. Anyway I meant to do the ensuing five years as a single part, but I decided instead to fake myself into thinking I’m accomplishing things if I do them one or two at a time. I’m taking wins where I can find them right now.

Decalogue 2

Year six: Thou shalt not damage.

This commandment, which Myka would have been overjoyed to be able to keep in its absolute form, worked out in practice to something more like “You’re going to do some damage. Fix it as best you can.”

Distinguishing between where it was and was not safe to step was one of Myka’s most confounding challenges. So many years ago, at the start, the literal gunpointings had made the hazards very clear, but now, instead, Myka encountered metaphorical landmines, buried in places stranger than she had expected: she knew to step around guns and guilt; she knew not to mention Christina, unless Helena was in a mood to think about her. But how was Myka supposed to have anticipated that on any given day, a particular word would be a sensitive plate?

She had been complaining, expressing general resentment on the topic of her parents and Tracy and the grandchild. She concluded with, “And that’s my family for you.”

“They are your family,” Helena said, a flat statement that Myka could not parse. Then she stopped talking to Myka. Entirely.

Myka tried to ask, tried to find out what was the matter; then she tried just talking to Helena, pretending nothing was wrong, hoping it was some sort of circuit-breaker problem and that acting normal would throw the switch; then she offered a general apology for everything she might ever have done wrong; but in the end she had to give up. Helena with an idea in her head—whatever the idea was—couldn’t be reasoned with.

They slept in the same bed. No words. No contact either, but that was because Myka avoided it. She could deal, for a while, with being verbally ignored, but she didn’t think she could handle even one instance of Helena coldly refusing to escalate touch into intimacy.

Claudia couldn’t save them this time. Not that she didn’t try: “Talk to Myka!” she bellowed at Helena, but no talking ensued. “I guess you gotta keep trying,” she told Myka with a shrug. “Send her flowers?”

Well, flowers never hurt anything, did they? So Myka had an arrangement of peonies delivered to the B&B, because Helena had once been very “these belong in an English garden” about peonies, softer than Myka would ever have expected her to be.

Helena read the card—and Myka had to admit that the “I love you” message wasn’t very creatively written, even in terms of penmanship, but she was running on desperate fumes at that point—then very pointedly placed it and the peonies into the kitchen trash can.

So Myka’s best version of tenderness was in the garbage... clearly tenderness was not sufficient to fix anything. It was necessary, she was fairly sure, but not sufficient.

After much additional analytical thought, she developed a hypothesis. “I think I get it. Your family’s gone,” she offered to Helena, who barely twitched in response. But she did twitch, so maybe Myka had got it right? She continued, “And I’m being insufficiently grateful that mine isn’t.”

No response other than a very loud absence of anything resembling a twitch.

Back to the analytical drawing board... at which Myka now drew nothing but a blank.

It took an entire week for Helena to budge at all, but: prompted perhaps by Myka rescuing one of the peonies from the trash and putting it in a vase on the nightstand on Helena’s side of the bed, or maybe by Pete endlessly complaining “I hate when Mom and Mom fight,” or alternatively by Steve handing her cup after cup of tea and noting (just as endlessly) that it was “to soothe your laryngitis,” or possibly by the phase of the moon or a conspicuous mote of dust or something else that even Helena herself probably couldn’t or wouldn’t ever articulate, she interrupted Myka’s weeklong insomniac ceiling-staring session at two in the morning by pushing at her shoulder, hard, and saying, “I thought you might be moved to describe me as your family. But I see I have not been promoted to that exalted level.”

Helena was vocally doing “stoic” and “offhand,” insofar as anyone could really pull off either of those after a week of administering the silent treatment. Which meant that she wasn’t pulling them off at all, which in turn meant that Myka could hear the wound: a fault line sending a bleak rumble through the substrate of that voice in the dark.

“Exalted,” Myka said, herself trying to pull off “no, I never really thought you’d refuse to speak to me for the rest of our lives.” She was also trying to hide her embarrassment at being so analytically obtuse, as well as her shame at having inflicted pain in the first place. “Do you want me to not get along with you, too? Complain about you all the time?”

“You do complain about me all the time,” Helena pointed out, and Myka had to concede, at least internally, that that was probably more than a little bit true. She had to concede, too, that she had not in any way put Helena in her mental dictionary to illustrate the word “family.” The pictures of an endlessly troubling group of people from whom she could not really escape, about whom she complained all the time, had seemed to be a permanently closed set. Any additions, she had thought, would be similes: Pete was like a brother (and thank god that was once again true), Claudia like a sister (though a different sort than the one Myka actually had).

She should have known that Helena’s role in her life was literal, not figurative. And she should have known that Helena, in all her literal intensity, would have expected words to be applied.

Family. She complained about Helena all the time; Helena was endlessly troubling; and Myka certainly could not escape from her, as five-years-unto-six had shown. But the difference was that she didn’t want to escape Helena... apparently she’d mistaken that for a disqualifying factor, family-wise.

“You have sequestered me from those who are so exalted,” Helena said then. “Ideationally, but physically as well.”

“In my defense,” Myka began, but she faltered. “I know it isn’t much of one. But you haven’t been here for very long. I mean... you were, but then you weren’t. Physically. Since you brought that up. And we’ve been together for real for less than a year.”

Silence again, but this time it was an audible challenge.

“So I guess I’m taking you to Colorado Springs pretty soon to show you off.”

Myka realized, while she was searching for reasonably priced plane tickets for the trip, that this was the first time she’d hurt Helena in a way in which she might have been similarly likely to hurt anyone. She’d been so busy working on not making Helena-centric mistakes, those to do with guns and guilt and grief, that she hadn’t thought much at all about this relationship in a broader sense. It was singular, yes (obviously yes), but it was also two people in love with each other, trying to live with each other. Buying “meet the parents” plane tickets forced her to confront how pedestrian they were, as people in love with each other. It was both a minor disappointment and an enormous relief.

Arriving at her childhood home with Helena in tow was even more surreal than she’d imagined... despite the fact that she’d imagined it out, scenario after scenario.

It was also even more awkward than she’d imagined. “Mom, Dad,” she began, as her parents and Helena did nothing but look at each other, wary, as if a hostage exchange were about to occur, “I told you about Helena.” No one said anything. Yes, awkward. She had indeed told them, but that been... what it had been. Myka still wasn’t sure how to think about what it had been.

She’d called them, determined to tell it all—well, not all—but before she’d finished clearing her throat in preparation for launching into her prepared remarks, she was subjected to the usual enthusiastic recounting of grandchild activities. That was fine, though, for she did take a little schadenfreudic satisfaction in how quickly grandchild-centric material had replaced Tracy-centric information in these bulletins.

“I have a little news,” she said as the child-related hosannas began at last to run out of steam.

She took a breath. “I’minaseriousrelationship.”

One more breath. “WithsomeonefromworkhernameisHelena.”

After a pause, but not much of one, her father said, “How do you want us to respond?”

Myka had braced herself for questions, certainly, but not that one. “By being happy for me?” she offered, and she wished she had sounded decisive.

“Then we’re happy for you,” her mother said, and when had her mother ever sounded that decisive?

Myka could easily imagine them at the kitchen table, both leaning toward the phone that her father would have propped against the lazy Susan, for he’d always seemed to believe that placing a phone flat on its back rendered it helpless, like a turtle. That picture was very clear, very familiar. But she could not envision how those two people, addressing that upright phone, would look if they were happy for her. “Just like that?” she asked, because her inability to see it suggested that she shouldn’t believe it.

“If that’s what you want,” said her father.

Had he come up with that on his own? Had her mother kicked him under the table? Who were these people? Myka groped for words to address this strange moment in which she wanted to believe what her parents were saying. All she could come up with was a slow, “It... is.”

You were promised endless wonder, she reminded herself, and you do seem to be in the bonus lately. She’d heard Pete say “in the bonus” about something sports-related, and even though she hadn’t bothered to find out what the phrase really meant, it felt solidly descriptive of the way the past couple of years had been resolving.

Speaking of wonder, though, she did wonder, in the moment, whether what she had really wanted was to have to argue passionately for her reasons and right to be with Helena... to have to make that case. She probably wouldn’t have done it, not out loud to her parents; they were her parents, so she would have just resented them, adolescently, for not respecting her choices.

But now there was nothing big to resent. Was this adulthood?

Ignore it, she told herself, and she managed, mostly, to do what she was told. Her parents acted like she’d told the same thing to them; they didn’t bring up someonefromworkhernameisHelena when they spoke with Myka. Myka didn’t either.

But now here they all were, face to face in the doorway of her childhood home, her parents and Helena and her own instantly re-teenaged self, refracted by the bizarre temporal displacements that had worked together to stand them here, scaled strangely, like dolls from different playsets.

A few very formal words, such as “how do you do” and “pleased to meet you,” ensued, and Myka had genuinely never been so happy to see her sister when Tracy finally showed up. She did so sans grandchild, which Myka had requested; she tried to tell herself she’d asked for that because inflicting a child on Helena would be cruel, but in all honesty, she selfishly wanted her parents to focus not on that child, for once, but on Helena—no matter how contradictory it was of her to have tried for so long to avoid directing their attention to Helena at all.

“Myka talked about you like you weren’t even real,” Tracy greeted Helena.

“For some time I was not,” Helena greeted back.

As if Helena’s response had been the epitome of etiquette, Tracy nodded and said, “I’m going to pretend out loud that I understand that.”

Helena said, as a stage whisper to Myka, “I like your sister. She functions.”

“That may be the nicest thing anybody’s ever said about me,” said Tracy.

Myka said, “Helena can be very nice when she feels like it.”

Tracy made a face that reminded Myka she wasn’t the only one who reteenaged around their parents. “You probably can too, Myka, but I’ve never seen you feel like it.”

“I, on the other hand, have seen her feel like it,” Helena informed Tracy. “So you may have hope.”

Tracy said, as a stage whisper to Myka, “I like your girlfriend. She functions too.”

And Myka didn’t in the end care if it was Tracy’s imprimatur that made the difference: the fog of overpropriety lifted, leaving Myka free to sit back and witness Helena returning her father’s interrogative serves with H.G. Wells–related volleys—more of them than Myka had imagined could be worked into conversation. “Oh, I think my friend Edward Prendick expressed it best,” Helena began one anecdote, and she ended another, “...which brought home to me that we all feel invisible now and again.”

“You made a game of it,” Myka accused her later that night, when they had escaped to their hotel room.

Helena smiled an indulgent smile at her across the snowy-white acre of king-sized hotel bed that separated them. “Of course I did. How many points would you say I accrued?”

“I stopped keeping score,” Myka said, and she wasn’t sure if she herself was being indulgent or just grumpy.

“Quitter...” Helena began, a drag of amused accusation. But then she paused, got on hands and knees, and initiated a trek to Myka’s side of the bed. She could have done it catlike, teasing, but this was a common human crawl. “No, that’s wrong,” Helena said as she moved. She was taking her time, but it really was a very large bed. “You’re no quitter,” she announced, answering Myka’s unvoiced “huh?” with, “You feared that initial interaction.”

“That’s unfortunately true.”

“But you did in the end ensure that it occurred.”

“Because you wanted me to.”

“And here we are,” Helena said, reaching her destination. She leaned to kiss Myka, a slow melt in which Myka felt gratitude, and also softness, the sort that was always a surprise (see: peonies). Just as there were unexpected sensitive plates, there were surprisingly graceful bays of yield and give. This kiss was one of them. Gratitude, grace; and Myka felt too the future: this kiss was happening here, now, but this kind of kiss could (should) happen tomorrow, next week, years from now. Here, somewhere else, anywhere.

This is why we came here, Myka thought. Because we kiss like this. Someone you kissed like this was who you were supposed to bring home to meet your parents—and again Myka felt the sad slight press of disappointment at, but also the knee-buckling relief of, being exactly like everyone else. “Here we are,” Myka agreed. “In a hotel room in Colorado Springs. I have never in my life spent the night in a hotel room in this town.”

“Interesting.” Helena gave her a look that included a little aggressive chin-jut. “And how do you feel about that?”

“Don’t Abigail me,” Myka warned.

The chin retracted, minimally. “All right, I’ll rephrase: And what do you intend to do about that?”

But Myka felt not quite ready for what she intended to do about that. “Look, you aren’t them,” she said.

“Correct.”

“So you see my category error.”

“I do.” Helena said it soft, and Myka chose to hear it as an apology for, or at least an expression of some regret about, that wordless week. “You see my...” Helena stopped. She sighed. “My emotional error.”

A straightforward statement from Helena about having got something wrong.... Myka really was in the “endless wonder” bonus. “I do see,” Myka said. “We’re both pretty bad at this.”

“Also correct. How do you feel about that?”

Myka rolled her eyes, but other than that she didn’t bother.

Helena pursed her lips, which sometimes signaled frustration, but this time she coupled it with playful eyebrow movement. “What do you intend to do about that?”

They were bad at this so much of the time, but here they were in Colorado Springs, being better at it... good at it, even. “Ignore it for now and get back to kissing somebody. Something else that I have never done in a hotel room in this town.”

“I would think not, given that—”

“Listen, don’t make me explain what other kids did on prom night.”

Helena smiled a beautifully familiar smile. Lascivious, but only to the degree that Myka liked. So: respectful. Her tone was further along on the lascivious scale (and Myka was fine with that) as she said, “I don’t know what ‘prom night’ is, but perhaps you should explain. In detail. If I understand your implication correctly.” The word “implication” was accompanied by a placing of her body atop Myka’s that she also knew Myka liked. “Correctly” was accompanied by an application of pressure, one that she further knew Myka loved.

And that was how Myka came to enjoy what she would forever after remember as her very own personal—personalized—prom night.

During which she may have accidentally caused some bruising... but no damage.

Per the commandment. Which was difficult, but not impossible, to keep.

TBC

My non-tag essay on this one is very simple, and it is basically a version of the next “commandment,” which I had already formulated, but which the past few weeks have really made clear to me: “Thou shalt take nothing for granted.” In fact my original first ideated line of that seventh-commandment bit was going to be “Because if you take any given thing for granted, it will explode in your face. Guaranteed.” I am here to tell you that is true. Prize each and every minute of the life you consider “normal,” if that normal feels good to you. My wife was in a serious accident very recently. She’s going to be okay eventually, with luck and hard work, but change to your everyday, which you may undervalue as I did mine, comes as a whip-crack.

[crimefightingspiderguy]

left hand free

Part II to the series, i want you to want me.

Summary: (Y/N) is checking in on Peter in Germany. 

Warnings: I guess swearing? Maybe spoilers for Captain America: Civil War, but like who hasn’t seen that bad boy lol?

Pairings: Peter Parker x best friend!reader

Word count: 1,632

A/N: I’ve decided that I’m going to attempt to get this series done before I start my summer semester, so on the 15th of May, if I can’t then updates will be slow during that time, at least for a month until I finish school. Updates will ideally be 1-2 times a week since that’s about how many days I have off from work. Thanks for the support on the last part!

You anxiously pace back and forth on your kitchen floor. Lost in your thoughts, only brought to reality by the familiar ding of your phone. You let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You pick up your phone and look at the text from Peter, 

P: “Just landed in Germany”

Y: “Well now that the hard part is over, have a great trip! 🙄🥴”

P: “All will be fine lol. Make sure to send me a picture of us “hanging” so I can check-in with May.”

“Hey, dad!” You called to him, hoping he could hear you from his room.

“What’s up?” He popped his head out from behind the door frame. 

“I have a strange favor to ask. Can you take a picture of me working on my Spanish project? Since Peter and I couldn’t work on it together, they want us to take pictures of each of us doing our halves so they know we didn’t just have one person do all the work.” 

“What happened with Peter coming over this weekend?” 

“Oh, it turns out he had a college recruitment thing. He didn’t think he’d qualify when he applied, so he thought he’d be able to make it. He’s gonna do his half in his hotel.” 

“Oh, alright.” Your dad takes your phone from you and snaps a picture of you leaning over the poster board, pretending to write the title for the project. He hands you back your phone. “That’s an odd request from a teacher.” 

“Well, that’s what they tell us, but we all really know that they’re just lacking in volunteers for the yearbook so they want to get some extra pictures of kids working on projects if they can.” You chuckled nervously, and took the phone back, immediately sending it to Peter. He went back to his room, telling you goodnight and to not stay up too late. “love you!” you shout as he shuts his bedroom door. 

“Back at ya kid!”

You phone bings and brings your attention back to Peter.

P: “Oh look how cute you look when you pretend to do homework 🥺”

Y: “Shut up. I hope Captain America knocks you on your ass with his shield.” 

P: “Well that’s not very nice. Maybe I should ask one of the Avengers if they’re in the market for a new best friend.”

Y: “Go ahead and do that for me because if you die then at least I’ll have someone to comfort me. Does Thor happen to be on your team? If so, I’ll gladly mourn my loss in his big strong arms 😢”

P: “As a matter of fact, he is not. Guess you’re s.o.l. Nighty night.” 

Y: “Night, try not to get yourself killed dumbass.” 

You continued working on the Spanish project throughout the night. After all, you were planning on having two people doing this, and now you have to make up for that. Well, that’s what you told yourself, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep well all weekend with the thought that Peter might be in danger. But, if he really has been Spider-Man this whole time, then he’s been in danger for some time. But this seems like a different kind of danger. You’ve always know Spider-Man to be the friendly neighborhood crime fighter, but now that he’s working with the Avengers, you worried what that kind of exposure to a bigger enemy might mean for him. Maybe this is why Peter never told you, he didn’t want you to hold him back or worry constantly about him. You’d understand him not telling May because of that, but you thought that your friendship was something beyond just caring about each other. You thought it was the two of you encouraging each other and helping them to be the best version of themselves, so why didn’t he trust you with something that was so important to him? Maybe he thought you’d rat him out? But if he gave you the chance he would know that you would never go behind his back like that. Maybe this was your chance to prove that to him. Well, whatever his reasoning, you hoped he would be more honest from here on out. 

The next day you hadn’t heard anything from Peter all day. You assumed he was probably just busy, plus being in a different time zone probably didn’t help, but you still had a gnawing feeling. That was until you got a text of a picture of Peter with some locals, and you realized he was probably sightseeing until it was time to “suit up”. You smiled at the picture and saved it. He looked so genuinely happy, and you didn’t get to see that often in pictures. You realized that this was something that he was excited about. His nerves and tension you sensed when he asked you to cover for him were gone, and he was fully enjoying himself and his chance to fight with Iron Man. You sighed contently and shut off your phone, figuring it’s probably best to not have it taunting you throughout the day. 

When you finally turned your phone back on, about right before you got into bed for the night, you had a video from Peter waiting for you. It was him running around a town square and showing you all the different food carts. You chuckled, not really sure why he felt the need to share all the food carts with you of everything, but you didn’t mind. Accompanying the video is a text that says,

P: “Mr. Stark says we’re gathering at the airport in the morning because that’s where Captain America is heading, trying to escape.”

Y: “Loving the video and picture, looks like fun! Hope everything goes well tomorrow, kick some ass Pete ❤️ (oh and don’t die please)” 

P: “Oh now you want me to come back. Now that you know Thor’s not here to dry your tears?” 

Y: “I’ve always wanted you to come back, I’m just saying if you don’t… I might not be so torn up if Thor was sent to break the news to me 😉”

P: “I’ll put that in my will really quick “P.S. Send Thor to break the news to (Y/N)”.” 

Y: “I appreciate your support on this bud! Oh by the way, here’s a picture of the project finished for May, tomorrow I’m baking Mantecados so when you get back you can be my taste tester and then everything should be ready to present on Monday!” 

You’d gotten up and snapped a picture of the finished poster board. Then propped your camera on your desk so it looked about Peter's height, and set a timer. You hopped in front of the board and held your arms out in a way that someone would show off a car on a game show, and out on a big grin. You sent both to Peter so he had some options for what to send to May as proof. He responded to you after he saved them and forwarded them to May.

P: “Thank you! May is really appreciating the fun shots of you acting like poster board making is your calling. Also, I’m really looking forward to knowing absolutely nothing about our project when we present lol.” 

Y: “Hey, that’s on you lol. Read the points I have on the board on your plane ride back.” 

You set your phone down and closed your eyes, a smile on your face that you couldn’t shake. You were able to sleep peacefully knowing that for now, Peter was okay. You could worry about him tomorrow, but for now, he’s okay. 

You decided to sleep in as much as you could, since today all you had to do was go out and get some baking ingredients, then bake. You woke up around noon, which is definitely longer than you thought you’d stay in, but you weren’t mad. You were facing your alarm clock on your bedside table then turned on your back to stretch. You looked up at your ceiling and fell out of bed. 

“What the actual fuck!” You yell as you fall, scared to death.

You heard the most familiar laugh echo through your room as Peter fell from your ceiling to your bed. You stood up, grabbed your pillow and smacked him across the head. 

“Hey! It’s not my fault you’re easy to scare!” 

“No, but it is your fault that you’re a total ass.” You laugh at him, but then pause as he takes off his mask and reveals his black eye. You quickly take his face into your hands and gently rub your thumb over it.

“Who did this? I’ll kick their ass.” You said, completely forgetting that he was just fighting the oldest living Avenger.

“I’ll let Mr. Stark know to warn Cap that you’re coming for his head.” 

“Right, sorry. I did just wake up, I totally forgot you were off fighting big bad guys. So what was it like? Are you an Avenger now?” 

“It was interesting and kind of cool to be doing more than just stopping random thugs from stealing old ladies’ purses, ya know? And no, well… I’m basically an Avenger, but I think I have to wait for another assignment or something for me to prove I’m ready.” 

“Well, hopefully, they’re not needing you too much.”

“Why not? I could really do this! I could be an Avenger!”

“What about school?”

“Well I could obviously do both, I would just have to only do Avenger things when I can, but I’ll manage, I’ve been managing for a while now.” 

“Well, as long as your happy, and not dead, I’ll support you.” You chuckled, hoping that Peter would continue to trust you with his Spider-Man secrets. 

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[aloneeedra]

Mint 2 B pt. 2

This is part two. Thank you for reading!

Japril fanfic| Disclaimer: All rights belong to Shonda Rhimes, I only own my version of the ending

One Year Later

April hurried across the parking lot of the elementary school, not having a chance to stick around to here the sound of her car alarm locking. She could feel the cold rain slowly penetrate through the layers of fabric she wore, but she didn't pay any attention to the feeling since a much bigger one took up her mind. She pushed pasted a parent holding tightly the hand of a little kid. "Sorry," she yelled, but she didn't look back. Her heels hit hard against the tile floor, and she felt that harshness against her toes as she ran past three hallways and finally took a left turn into the fourth. She ran past more parents with their kids, never giving them the smallest bit of attention, her eyes on one class the entire time. She thrashed into the open classroom, crouching over to try to get some air into her lungs before she even had a chance to see who was in it.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. The traffic...it's...it's a nightmare. I left an hour early, believe it or not and yet, it still wasn't enough. It crazy, really. It's ridiculous, actually." She raised her left wrist close to her eyes. "But, really, I'm only like 47 minutes late. So it's not that bad." She finally stood up, her red curls flying around her face, before her soft brown eyes widen. She looked at Ms. King, Harriet's kindergarten teacher, then she looked at the two parents sitting in front of her across the desk, with a child sitting on of their lap's. All three adults looked at her like she was crazy. Even the tiny human had her mouth gaped open.

"Ms. Kepner, you have not missed your meeting. As you can see, I am currently with another family, so if you mind waiting out in the hall?" Ms. King asked, looking at April like a teacher would like at a 5 year-old. 

April felt her checks burning. She nodded her head, a fit of laughter due to awkwardness fall out of her mouth. "Of course I can wait," she giggled. She threw up her hands up in finger guns, playfully, making the situation from awkward to  absolutely horrifying. She quickly dropped her hands. She pointed towards the hall she had come in so wildly. "I'm going to be out there. Waiting."

"Sounds good."

"Okay." April walked out of the classroom, for the first time allowing the fact that she was covered in rain sink in. She dropped her head, her eyes closed tightly as she involuntarily played the scene in her mind. She was so caught up with the idea of missing Harriet's parent/teacher meeting, that she didn't really give herself time think logically. That always happened when Harriet was involved. April consider herself a person that thrive from organization and calm thinking. She was a trauma surgeon for Pete's sake, yet just the thought of Harriet and any logical thought flies out the window. She started to rub her face almost like doing so would make the memory go away. She stopped when she heard laughter. April slowly lifted her head up, her eyebrows pushed together as she spotted who was laughing. 

Jackson had his mouth cover, but he didn't look like he was trying to hard to cover his laughter. He was sitting on one of the many chairs against the small halls of the elementary school. His green-blue eyes stared at hers unafraid as his laughter began to gain fire. No one else was there beside empty chairs and a sleeping Harriet sitting against her dad's shoulder.

April raised her hands up in disbelief. "Were you there the whole time?" Then, when Jackson nodded, she added, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I called out your name, but I guess you were in such a hurry speeding past me you didn't hear me." He continued to chuckled. As much as April was irritated by this, she found herself laughing along to the entire situation. Jackson moved his head towards the free chair next to him. April sigh, before taking the few steps towards it to sit in it. Each step felt like she was inching her feet into a wet carpet, the sound of slush following. This made Jackson laugh even harder.

April placed her bag on her lap. Hating the feeling of pressing against the plastic chair, she avoid leaning back. The rain made it feel cold. "I totally made a fool of myself," she said.

"I highly doubt that."

April crossed her legs. The wet fabric of her skirt made a sound similar to her heels when it moved. Jackson looked towards where the sound came, this time holding in his laughter. His eyes shifted from her crossed legs to her face. "You're all wet."

April looked at him with such with sarcastic smile. "What? Really? Thank you for letting me know."

"You have a raindrop on your cheek," he said, before he brushed his thumb across her cheek.

 It had been a year since April and Jackson put away any kind of romantic interest for each other into a box and decided to move on. Not soon after, April found herself married at a wedding that wasn't hers originally with Mathew, someone she somehow reconnected with. The past year, Jackson and April were doing pretty good at just being co-parents of Harriet and friends, like before. They, however, did not hang around each other much of the time. April blame it on have two different jobs, two different lives. Of course they couldn't spend much time together when they were constantly living their own individual life, only seeing one another when they dropped off Harriet for the week. Only say five to nine words, before go back to their piece of living.

But then Jackson does something like brush off rain from her cheek, or look at her for maybe a little too long, and April wonders if maybe the 'having two different lives' reason was crap. Maybe the real reason why they didn't spend so much time with each other nowadays was because it was hard to act like before. They have a way to make simple, very innocent gesture intimate. It was a slipper slope that they found themselves in and it was just easier for both their different lives if they didn't spend time together.

Jackson dropped his hand quickly, looking forward. He cleared his throat, but didn't say anything anything.

"You didn't have to come," April said. She was already aware that what they do best is act like nothing happened. It happens every time they saw each other. You would think it would have lost it's effect on her. She would think that too. "I thought I took care of parent teacher meetings?"

"They called me when you didn't show up. I was at work."

April looked at Jackson's scrubs. "You didn't  have time to change?"

"I have to go back right after this." Jackson smirk. "Like you're the one to talk." She could feel his eyes on her outfit. "You would look nice, if you weren't dripping the forecast."

"I can't control the rain, Jackson."

"You ever heard of an umbrella?"

"I didn't think I had time. I hurried out of my car and into the school without much thought. I thought Harriet was here alone. Thank God, she's fine. Has she been sleeping the whole time?"

"No, when I came here she was playing in the playground with her friends. She has a lot of them. Our daughter is very popular."

April smiled proudly. "Of course she is. When did she fall asleep?"

"Maybe a few minutes before you showed off your running moves, or your lack of." He paused to laugh. April rolled her eyes. "She must of have tired herself out." Jackson had his right arm wrapped protectively around Harriet. Her small head resting against the side of Jackson's side as her small open mouth out let out soundless snores.

"No, it's because of you. She always falls asleep much faster when it comes to you. It's a little annoying."

He pushed his shoulder against her playfully. "Jealous?"

"No," she lied. "Okay, yes. Of course." This made Jackson laugh again. He always seemed to happy whenever they did see each other. April wanted to believe it was because of her. "You can leave if you want. Since I'm here now. There's no need for both of us to be here."

Jackson seemed to think it over for a moment as he used his other hand to carefully push back the baby hairs sticking out of Harriet's braid, only for them to reappear once his hand left. He then rested his left arm on April's chair. The idea of leaning back become more intruding. She hated that such a small act of affection drove her mad. Jackson made her feel something that she couldn't get anywhere else. It was ridiculous. "No, it's okay. I want to hear all the good things that my daughter does. It not like everyday you get to hear someone that's not family brag about her."

"Yeah, it is a pretty good feeling." April looked forward as they sat in silence. She wanted to lean back against her chair. Was that crazy? Was she crazy? Something in her core urged for it. She could feel every muscle in her body, hear every mediocre sound like it was right against her ear as she very slowly leaned against the plastic chair. She first felt the wetness from her blouse touch her back, but then their was this feeling when she realized she had done it. She couldn't feel his arm, just the atmosphere it was creating by just being their, hovering over her, as a sort of affection. 

She could sense Jackson tense up beside her, but she refused to look. She waited for him to remove his arm, but when he never did, it was like they both knew something that neither one of them could ever share, maybe because there was no words for it. To a normal person walking by, his arm was resting on the chair that she was sitting in. It was no big deal, but for April, it meant something. Something more than she would ever admit and deep down she hoped that it meant something for Jackson too, but she knew that was unlikely.

It was strange. They had gotten closure a year ago in Jackson's car, yet, though April was happy with Mathew and she was happy for Jackson and Maggie, her feelings for him didn't disappear like she thought they would. They still lingered in her like some kind of ghost that would become alive whenever Jackson was close. When she thought about it, it was silly to think that the feelings she had for Jackson could ever disappeared. Maybe this was just how it was. Maybe there were a bunch of people who were still in love, but could never be, and they all act like those feeling weren't there, but they were.

The family she had interrupted earlier walked out of the classroom, and soon followed Ms. King. The sight of people made April sit up quickly and Jackson take his arm off her chair. It was as if the kindergarten teacher had caught them doing something. She looked at them weirdly, before stepping aside. "Now, it's time for you parent teacher meeting," Ms. King said.

Jackson began to laugh again. April completely over it, stood up and walked into the classroom. Jackson followed soon after with a sleepy Harriet into his arms. 

It had become nightfall when the small broken family walked out of the large elementary school. April was clearly upset, blowing hot air out of her nose as she rambled on. "Violent? She called out daughter violent?" She cried out.

Jackson rolled his blue-green eyes as he followed her to her car. He held an awake Harriet in his arms, close to him, as she played with the collar of his blue shirt. "She didn't say that."

"She practically did."

"No, she said that Harriet has shown violent behavior towards her classmates. She didn't call Harriet violent. Though, April, we need to take this serious. It's not okay for her to be hitting other kids."

April threw a nasty glare as Jackson, reaching her car. She opened the car door next to the car seat, before grabbing Harriet from his grip and placing Harriet safely into the seat and buckling her up. "Kids hit. That's what they do."

"No, it's not. Don't try to write Harriet's behavior off. She needs consequences for her actions."

April gave Harriet a small smile, before closing the door. She walked past Jackson and around her vehicle, with him following closely behind. "I'm not trying to write off her behavior."

"You kind of are."

April turned around, crossing her arms over her chest. "Okay fine. I'll...take her toys away for the weekend. Happy?"

"You need to talk to her about why what she did was wrong."

"Why do I have to talk to her? Why can't you talk to her?"

"Fine, then I'll talk to her." Jackson made a move to get into the car, but April put out her hand to stop him.

"Fine. I'll talk to her," she said. She got into the driver side, shutting the door and turning on the car, before putting her seat belt on. Jackson stood outside her window. She waited for him to leave, but then he knocked on it. She sighed, before putting it down. "What now?" she asked, her shoulders slum. She just wanted to go home.

"We should also think about what she said regarding why Harriet is acting this way."

"You mean when she accused us of fighting?"

Jackson nodded his head.

"I don't know what she talking about. That's ridiculous."

"So are you saying that you and Mathew don't fight?" Jackson asked.

April opened and closed her mouth a couple of times as she looked at the large tree she had parked in front of. She didn't know how she wanted to answer this. It was normal for couples to fight, healthy even, but admitting that it was happening to Jackson seemed too vulnerable. April didn't understand why, but she wanted Jackson to believe she was happily in love all the time, even if she wasn't. Eventually, she looked at Jackson with his eyebrow raised and ended up asking, "Are you saying Maggie and you don't fight?"

His expression changed. He looked down to his shoes. "No, we don't." For a split second, April wonder if Jackson felt it too. The need to pretend like everything was okay with their love lives. They were adults, full adults with a kid now, so admitting that maybe they weren't where they wish to be seemed almost like a failure. But that idea went straight out the window with his next set of words. "Actually, Maggie and I broke up, so."

April eyes widen. She sat closer to the window, her hands grasping the ledge . "Jackson, I'm so sorry. I didn't know." He brushed the idea away with his hand. "When did you guys...?"

"A little more than a month ago."

"Oh." April pulled back her hands. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, it's not something you just announce during a ten second conversation and that's all we've been having lately. I was going to tell you when time was right, it just never seemed right."

"Right." She wanted to ask why they had broken up. She wanted to ask who had broken up with who, but she didn't want to pry into his business. She also felt she wanted to know for the wrong reasons. "Well, I'm really sorry it didn't work out." She thought that was the end of the conversation and smiled at him kindly, before about to press the window button.

"What about you?"

She removed her hand from the bottom. The conversation was still alive and running. "What do you mean?"

"Mathew and you? Do you guys fight?" he asked.

April didn't understand why he was asking when he clearly knew the answer. If Jackson and Maggie aren't together to fight, that only leave April and Mathew to be the reason behind Harriet 'violent' behavior. She looked towards the backseat to see Harriet playing with her favorite toy, before looking towards the radio. She made sure the air was on, before getting out of the car. She shut the door behind her before crossing her arms over her chest once more to bring some kind of comfort.

"He got a job offer in California," she said.

"Oh. Are you going to move to California?"

"He wants us to, but I don't want to. My life is here. You're here." April paused and watched as Jackson eyes looked at her like they did before. It brought feeling to her stomach as they kept eye contact. The air around them felt thick. She quickly looked down. "I mean, you're Harriet father. I don't want her growing up with her dad being miles away." Jackson stayed silent. "Anyways, we've been arguing a lot about it. Him trying to convince me that it's a good idea to go and then getting upset when I tell him I don't want to." Mathew also usually turned their argument into something having to do with Jackson, but April didn't bring that up.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Jackson offered.

April made a face. "No, no, that's okay. We'll figure it out."

Jackson looked down to the ground. "He doesn't deserve you, April." He said. April eyes widen. Before she knew what she was doing, she slapped him. Jackson quickly touched his check, his eyebrows pressed together. "Ow. What was that for?"

April covered her mouth with her hands, surprised that she had done that too. "I-I'm so sorry, I am...but how could you say that? You encouraged me to married him." Jackson held his check as they looked at each in the dark. When she realized that he wasn't going to say anything, she turned around, opening the car door once more before getting in.

Jackson quickly stood in front of the down window, his eyes lingering on her as she placed her seat belt on. "I'm sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have said that. I don't know why I did."

April placed her hand on the stick, but felt Jackson hand on her shoulder. She looked at Jackson. She could clearly see some red on his face and immediately felt ashamed for her own actions. "I'm really sorry," he said.

April grab the hand on her shoulder, before carefully pulling it off. "Good night," she told him before finally raising the window up and putting her car in reverse.

3 days later

April tossed candy into goody bags as she watched Harriet jumping on the bounce house. She had been talking to herself for a solid minute, asking herself what she could do if she saw someone be mean to Harriet, but whatever plan she had come up with was never used since Harriet didn't seem to get pushed into that situation.

April sighed alone, as she sat in the wooden bench as parents around her had their own conversations. Her eyes would shuffle between watching Harriet play in the bouncy house and Jackson make a bunch of parents laugh as they stood by the grill. Jackson was always so charming and had a way to attract people, something April clearly couldn't do. When Pete had invited her to his kids party, she never in a million years thought he would too invite Jackson. She had no idea their relationship went past patient and doctor. Jackson always seemed able to connect with people in a way April couple.

She watched as a very flirty mom placed her hand on Jackson arm. April rolled her eyes, unable to watch people gape over the existing of her ex. She placed the reminder candy in one bag, before standing up and walking into the house. She smiled politely as people she only kind of knew, before reaching the kitchen. She let out a large breath of air once she was finally alone. That didn't last long.

"Are you okay?"

April turned around to see Jackson slowly walking to the kitchen. Her eyes widen. "Did you follow me? Who's watching Harriet?"

"She'll be fine," he assured her.

"No, Jackson, she might not. There's a lot of people here who we don't know." April started walking out of the kitchen towards the backyard, but Jackson stopped her. He had his arm out. She stopped walking, looking out towards the backyard.

"She'll be fine," he said.

April could feel his eyes on her. She chose not to meet his eyes as she turned around back further into the kitchen. She stood in front of the island, using it to keep distance from Jackson. Ever since she had found out that Jackson is single, things had been weird between the two. Jackson has become more forward towards her, looking at her like she was made from the sun itself without any shame or even trying to hide it. It was different than before. Though April allowed small moment of affection, she thought there would never be anything more. Now, though, it felt possible and that scared her.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked.

"Oh, you know, just...cleaning," she said. She grabbed an open bag of bread, beginning to close it.

Jackson leaned against the island. "Are you sure you're not trying to avoid me?"

"What? Of course not. What makes you say such a silly thing?"

"I don't know. Maybe the fact that you can't look me in the eye." April tried to look him in the eye, but quickly looked away. "See," Jackson said.

April let her shoulders drop. "Well, maybe I could look you in the eye if you stopped looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like the way you do, Jackson. Don't act like you don't know what you're doing. I was married to you, remember? I know that look."

"I don't mean to. It just kind of happens when I look at you, April."

April burst out laughing. "Really?"

"What?"

"It just happens when I look at you, April?" she mocked. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"Don't act stupid."

"I'm not."

"You know what that means."

"I don't. I really don't. So, please explain it to me."

"It means I like you, April," Jackson hissed.

April dropped the bread on the grown. "Shit," she mumbled, before bending down to start picking up the fallen bread. Jackson quickly walked around the island, bending down next to her. He started to help her pick up the bread, but she quickly took the bread out of his hands, dropping it to the floor. "Stop it. I don't need your help," she said.

"What's your problem?"

"You are Jackson! You're my problem! You like me? What the hell are you trying to do here? I'm married!"

"I'm just telling you how I feel. I don't want to hide it."

April eyes widen. "Yeah, well, you're telling me a little late, don't you think?" She picked up all the fallen bread, putting it back on the island, before standing up. She should just throw away the whole bag. Maybe buy Pete a bag of loaf bread.

Jackson stood next to her. "You don't think I get that? I was stupid, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I should have tried a little harder before getting a divorce? That I was so focus on how I felt right in that moment that I didn't realize that it would eventually pass. Everything passes."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Well, I'm saying it now. I'm sorry, okay. I didn't know then the stuff I know now. I was so hurt by everything that I just wanted to make it stop, even if that meant giving up on the things I love. On giving up on you. But the more time that passes, the more I realize that my feelings for you aren't going to stop, April. I waited and waited, and they are still there. I constantly think about you. It's frankly annoying. I don't want to. I know you're married. I get it. I don't want to feel this way, but I can't help it."

April finally looked at him. "So what?" She asked.

"What?"

"What the hell do you want from me?"

Jackson looked around, before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know? To say you like me back, I guess?"

Every part of April's body stopped. Was this it? Was this what she wanted? All those small gestures of middle school affection, craving for a moment when her skin could touch his, turning the most innocent thing into some kind of forbidden act. Was this what she was longing for all those times?

April began to laugh. She laughed so hard that her stomach began to cramp.

"Why are you laughing?" Jackson asked.

April looked at him with amusement. "Jackson, I love you." He began to smile, but April quickly threw her hands up. "No, you don't get it. I love you, but you like me. Don't you see? You treat me horribly. I bet you have feelings for me. I don't doubt them at all, but you are so unsure of what you want and you're so impulsive about it. I gave you my heart and you encouraged me to give it to someone else. And then a year later, that's when you tell me you like me? After treating me like nothing?" April looked downwards, in her thought for a moment. "And I was pathetic trying to get any affection off of you. Like trying to get leftovers. I was settling for leftovers." She looked back at him. "I deserve more than leftovers."

She grabbed the bag of bread from the island, throwing it away in the trash as she walked out of the kitchen. She could hear Jackson footsteps as they followed her. He quickly stood in front of her, his hands out wide.

"You're not happy with Mathew. I can see it."

"You're right. I'm not," she said. He raised his eyebrows at her, like she had proven his point. "So?" she asked.

"I want to be with you, April," he said.

"And I want to be with you, but that's not enough. I don't want to do this if you're suddenly going to feel like this isn't right and dump me on the side of the road again to find yourself. Having feelings for someone is not enough of a reason to be with them forever. I want to be with you forever, Jackson, but if you don't 100% want the same thing, then there's no point. There just isn't."

Jackson stood very still. "You're the only person who makes me feel alive," he said. He moved his face closer to her, their nose almost touching.

April gave him a sad smile. "Those are awfully big shoes to fill, don't you think?" She kissed him on the check, before walking around him to the backyard, where she scooped Harriet from the bounce house, and they headed towards their car.

6 hours later

April had her cover up to her chain as she looked at the fan above her in the dark. It went around and around. She thought back to Jackson and their conversation, thinking it over and over again, with new topics popping in her head. Things she wished she had said. The whole thing seemed messy and gave her a headache.

She could feel the bed dip towards her right as Mathew got into it. The cover on top of her slip towards her right as he moved around, trying to get comfortable. April eyes never left the fan above her as she spoke. "You should accept that job offer."

"Does that mean you're okay with moving?" Mathew asked the dark.

"No," she said, "It means I think we should get a divorce."

Five Months Later

Having a house warming party was never the plan, but April hated how quiet the apartment was when Jackson had Harriet. She however, did not think ahead about the mess that was going to be left afterwards and was starring at large amounts of food and plates left everywhere once everyone had gone home. Everyone except Jackson.

"Harriet is asleep," Jackson said as he walked into the living room. He took a look at the living room and pulled his sleeves up. "Wow."

For some reason, Jackson had come over to the house warming party with Harriet. Turns out mentioning an event can be confused as inviting the person. Ever since his confession, Jackson and April had agreed to keep their relationship strictly co-parents. They only talk about Harriet when drop off Harriet. That was their relationship. At first it was awkward, but with time they had found the perfect place they needed to be where Jackson could walk into a room and April could look at him without feeling completely heartbroken.

"Yeah," April said. She started to pick the dirty dishes collecting them one after the other, placing them on top of each other to make a sort of tower. She saw Jackson doing the same thing and quickly spoke up. "You don't have to."

"It's okay. I don't mind."

April nodded her head as a thanks. They did for a long time in conformable silence. April ended up in the kitchen, in front of the sink, scrubbing off the food as Jackson stored leftover in the fridge before joining her. He dipped his hands in the sink beside her and started to wash off the plates April had scrubbed off. They shoulders were touching. They did this in silence too for a while, before Jackson spoke.

"The party was great," he said.

"Thanks." Silence again as Jackson tried to balance all the dishes on to the small plastic dish dryer. "Thanks for sticking around, too. I would probably be stuck doing this all night if it weren't for you."

"No problem. I actually want to tell you something."

April lifted her eyebrow at him. "Are you going to confess your love for me again?" she asked.

Jackson chuckled. "No."

She looked back to the sink. "I'm just teasing."

"I'm sorry about that. I really didn't think it through, to be honest. I mean, I meant what I said, but..."

She cut him off. "It's okay. I forgive you for...everything. I wasn't completely in the right either. We were both wrong."

Jackson smiled. "Yeah we were."

"What's the thing you wanted to tell me?"

"I am dating this girl. She is a firefighter and I think it's becoming serious."

April thought her heart was going to sink. She thought that something in her would break. She waited but it never came. After she divorce Mathew and made friends with people at her church, she started to see things in a different way, almost in a bigger way. She didn't understand at first how five months could make her feel so new when years past and she felt the same. She realized thought with the help of her friends that it not really about how much time, but what you do with it.

"That's really great, Jackson. I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks. Also, I've actually decide that I want to go to church. Try it out."

April smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah. Do you think your church would mind if I...?"

"No, they wouldn't mind. They would love to have you."

"Awesome."

After they washed the dishes, April went to her trash can, about to grab the bag to dumb it outside. She stopped her actions though, her eyes looking intensely at the trash. Jackson stood by her, wiping his hands off a rag as he looked at the trash too. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I, uh, I think someone threw away my bread." April reached down and grabbed her almost empty bag of loaf bread in the air, before looking at Jackson. They held eye contact for a few seconds before both of them burst out laughing.

Nine Months Later

April sighed deeply as she entered yet another speed dating event. The first she had ever entered one it was because her friends had forced her into it. Now, however, she found it fun meeting so many different people and even met a guy once. They only lasted a month, but she really enjoyed that month a lot. She was worried that have two divorces under her belt was going to make it hard for people to date her, but it turned out, it wasn't as big as a deal as she made out to be. She realized that everyone has had heartbreak.

She had become a regular at the speed dating in a way, this being her third time. She even greeted the host. April was completely surprise though when she saw Jackson with a name tag, hold a glass of champagne as he stood by the table of sweets looking like a spend dating virgin. Spotting him first, April quickly went over to him with a large smile. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"April, hey! I guess the same thing you are," he laughed. They shared a hug.

April grabbed one of the drinks, before smiling back at Jackson. "You are the last person I thought to see here." April knew Jackson and his firefighter had broken up and he was dating again, she just never imagined to see him at speed dating.

"Yeah, this really isn't my thing, is it?" he said. April shook her head. The host cut the music and began to clap his hands, getting the attention of all the single adults. Jackson looked overwhelm as the host started signal people to get in their seats.

April started to walk towards the tables when she noticed Jackson wasn't following. She walked back to him, her eyebrows raised. "You coming?"

Jackson looked down at his drink, before he shook his head. "No, actually. I don't think this is for me."

April looked back to the people waiting for her to meet, before looking back at Jackson. "You wanna go to the bar across the street instead?" She asked. Jackson's blue-green eyes met hers, before he nodded his head. April left her glass of champagne on the table she got it from, before taking his hand and leading him to the bar. It only took half an hour until the pair was laughing over nothing, letting the alcohol over take them.

"Can I admit something silly?" April asked him.

"Sure. Go ahead."

She smiled, but then started to shake her head. "No, no, never mind."

"No, now you have to say it." He gently pushed her shoulder with his. "Come on spill."

April gave him a look, before looking down at her almost empty drink. "Fine. Do you remember that time when we were in your car, after you read my letter, when I said that maybe we weren't meant to be?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I kind of hope that you would have told me I was wrong or something. This is gonna sound a bit silly, but I always kind of thought that God made you for me or something."

Jackson shifted his body towards her. "April, I didn't know."

"I know, but if you had felt that way, then you would have said something, wouldn't you? I guess it all worked out in the end, anyways. We both have good jobs, we're stabled. We can survive without being together." She took the last sip in the glass.

"Would about when I confessed to you that one time in Pete's kitchen? When you turned me down. Did you want me to tell you you were wrong then too?"

April shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe? I don't know. It doesn't matter now."

"You should have told me. If I had known," Jackson paused. He shifted his body forward, facing the bar. His blue-green eyes looked at his drink. "I thought I was causing you more harm than pain. You told me I was being awful to you. You told me that we weren't meant to be together. I thought I was doing the right thing by backing off. You should have said something. I can't read your mind. If I had known-"

"Jackson, forget it. I mean, you're right. I have this tendency to not say anything. To just assume you should have just figured it out. It wasn't fair to you, but hey, it all worked out." April looked at him with a smile.

Jackson didn't smile. "If I had known, of course I would have told you were wrong about us. I encouraged you to marry Mathew because I thought that's what you wanted. I got my stuff together and made an effort to become the man you could with forever after you divorced Mathew, but then you told me we should strictly be co-parents. If I had known, April, maybe things would have been different."

April gave him a kind smile. "Maybe they would have, but honestly I needed to know that I could be alone. I think you needed to know that too. All these maybe's and if, we should let that stuff go. We're here. We should allow ourselves to be." 

"Allow ourselves to be?" Jackson question. He couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape his mouth, before taking a sip of his drink once more. He watched April order another drink, before swirling the small amount of liquid left in his glass. "You know, I'm willing to try again if you are."

April looked at Jackson with disbelief. "You aren't serious."

"I am. All those times before clearly weren't the right time. I think this is the write time. We are both single and we are both grown. We have become better people. I'm not saying get married. We should take it slow. Just start off with dating and see were that goes."

"Date? Again?"

"Actually, when you think about it, we never did that. We were never just boyfriend and girlfriend. Let me take you out on date, April. Let me buy you flowers and lets just go to places and talk for hours and text like we're teenagers." He titled his head to the side, a cute smirk on his face. "What do you say? Wanna try again?"

April open her mouth just when the bar tender told them both that they were closing. They both hopped off their stools. April rampaged in her purse to pay for her drinks, but Jackson stopped her.

"I got it covered," he said, before putting a few bills on the bar.

April still pulled out the little cash she had and set it next to his money. "He deserves a good tip," she said. They eyes were stuck on each other. "I had a lot fun tonight. I didn't think this is how my night would be, but I'm glad it turned out this way."

"You haven't answered my question," he said.

April smiled at him. "Good night, Jackson." She walked past him, but his hand shot out, catching hers. She looked back him, her eyebrow raised.

"Come to my place." Before she could say anything, he added. "Come on, just for some drinks. 'Let's just let ourselves be.'"

She was silent for a moment, before nodding her head. "Okay."

 34 minutes later

April thought Jackson's apartment lacked a lot of decoration. He lived in a one bedroom apartment that only had pictures of Harriet , his mom and him with April's face in a few of them. April headed to the bathroom as soon as she entered his apartment. She had to go through his room to get to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror for a couple of minutes, asking herself what she was doing.

She didn't know how to feel or what she wanted. She never expected this to happen. It felt almost sprung on her. When she asked Jackson if he wanted to go to the bar, never did she imagine it would lead her to going to his apartment for something not Harriet related.

Eventually she had to get out of the bathroom. She took note of his room as she walked through it, accidentally bumping into the end table. The plant on it slip from the surface and crashed onto the floor. "Shit," April mumbled. In panic, she opened the drawers to find something that could help her clean up the mess she made. Dirt was everywhere and she thought that maybe Jackson had some kind of rag or something, but instead in the lower drawer, she found her letter.

She quickly left it there and closed the drawer when she heard footsteps. Jackson walked into the room, an amused smiled on his face. "You broke my plant."

"No, I didn't. I just broke what was holding your plant." She began to gather dirt in the middle with her hands.

Jackson bend down next to her, starting to do the same thing. They finger brushed against each other a couple of time.

She could feel his eyes on her. April met them. She felt something beautiful shiver through her. She thought back to the bread she had dropped once when he confessed to her. How awful everything felt. It was fast, and her thoughts were jumbled. They weren't now. She looked at him, and it was calming and smooth and she felt like she could breathe. It felt natural and obvious when he looked from her eyes to her lips. Like of course he would. Of course this is where they should be.

He stood up with the broken pieces of the pot. April followed his lead, her hands covered in dirt. She looked down at them. "I should wash my hands," she said. Jackson nodded, setting the pieces on the end table. They went into the bathroom. The water turned on. April placed soap on her hands and Jackson did too. They washed them then dried them then looked at each other in the small bathroom.

They stood close to each other. Jackson leaned his head down towards hers. Their lips so close a small moment would make them touch. April could feel his breath as he spoke. "We should take it slow," Jackson said.

"Okay." April said.

She leaned in. She pressed her lips gently against his. He wrapped his arms around her, bring her closer. She locked her hands behind his neck. Then, after a while, she pulled away. "I have to go. Harriet's babysitter is probably worried."

Jackson let her go. "Right. Then...I'll call you? Ask you out on our very first date?"

April pecked his lips. "Okay" She walked past him out the bathroom, feeling like all the pieces had finally fallen together.

She reached his door with her purse in hand when he called out her name. She turned around only to meet his lips again. He pushed her against his front door, before pulling back. "I'll see you tomorrow." He creased her check.

She closed her eyes at the touch before leaning upwards and kissing him again. "Okay. Don't forget to call me."

Jackson nodded his head. "I won't."

April peck his lips one last time, before wished him goodnight, and leaving his apartment with hopes of tomorrow.