#my friend said it was like if the Great British Bake Off was about solving a murder. he's just such a polite man!

[giantkillerjack]

"Oh yes, Mr. Rich And Desperate-To-Protect-His-Own-Position Bad Man, I have SERIOUS DIRT on you. YES, I'm the only one who knows about it, and NO, no one knows where I am or who I'm meeting with right now. I'm holding the ONLY evidence in my hand -- and the moment I leave this room, your life as you know it will be OVER! Now, what you think about THAT??"

- person about to be murdered at the start of a Columbo episode

[babygirlizz]

izzie’s favorite movies and tv shows of 2020 (aka the worst year ever)

another year, another movie and tv show review. this year has, to put it simply, sucked. 2020 has been so terribly awful that sometimes the only light you can see are the absolute bangers of movies and tv shows that came out this year. with that being said, some of the movies and tv shows didn't come out in 2020. if the are mentioned in this post it is because they either: had a season come out this year, i found them this year, or they became popular this year.

SPOILERS: it may not come as a surprise but just in case you didn't realize, there will be many spoilers ahead, read at your own risk.

tw // death, suicide, drug use, mild adult language. if any of these things might trigger you, i strongly urge you not to read this post.

there is no specific order of these shows and movies, i'm just writing as they come to mind. if you enjoy any of these movies or tv shows, or if you have any suggestions for me, please let me know!

TV SHOWS

1) Santa Clarita Diet

Okay, so I know this show doesn't have anything to do with 2020. But, I found this show in 2020. I put it off for a while, thinking it wasn't my style of a show, but boy was I wrong. I loved this show. Sheila Hammond (Drew Barrymore) is a normal suburban wife and mom. She is a real estate agent with her husband Joel (Timothy Olyphant). She struggles with the fact that she isn't very adventurous. This all changes when she throws up an insane amount at a house showing. She then finds herself craving adventure, and craving human flesh. Yeah, she's a zombie. Not only is this show super hilarious, but it also shows the growth that they have with their characters and their family. I'm also team Abby (Liv Hewson) and Eric (Skyler Gisondo).

2) Outer Banks

So, I'm from NC. And, watching this show at first bothered me because I can very obviously tell this show isn't actually filmed in the obx, and the geography isn't exact, but once I got past that, I loved it. John B (Chase Stokes) is a teenager that lives in the poor side of the outer banks. He has a friend group called the Pogues which consists of JJ (Rudy Pankow), Pope (Jonathan Daviss), and Kie (Madison Bailey). They absolutely hate the Kooks, which are the rich kids. A while after John B's dad gets lost at sea, presumed dead, the group finds some evidence that may solve the mystery, and make them rich. In the process, John B falls in love with a Kook names Sarah (Madelyn Cline) whose father Ward (Charles Esten) may have a little more to do with the mystery than he let on. Through friendship, murder, and secrets, the gang may just figure out what happened to John B's dad.

3) Love, Victor

Alright. I loved loved loved Love, Simon. I also really loved the book "Simon vs. the Homosapien Agenda." So, when I heard about this show, I was so excited. Victor (Michael Cimino) is a teenage boy that moved to Creekwood with his family. He meets Felix (Anthony Turpel) who lives in his building. He also meets Mia (Rachel Hilson) and they begin dating. But, he also meets Benji (George Sear). While trying to get used to a new school, new friends, and a new relationship, Victor finds himself questioning his sexuality. With the help of Simon (Nick Robinson) and his friends, Victor finds it in himself to finally come out, and he admits his feelings, for Benji. This is such a good show, but I was so upset when season 1 ended on a cliff-hanger.

4) The Haunting of Bly Manor

The sequel to The Haunting of Hill House. Now listen, haunting of hill house was an absolute banger. When I saw that Bly came out I nearly died. I was so excited. But, I was alone in my apartment and also a lil bitch. So, I had to wait a week until I was home with my family to watch it. Now, I was so excited to be scared, and there were a few jump scares and ominous moments, but this season was more centered around the story line of Dani Clayton (Victoria Pedretti) and her new life in a foreign country. When seeing an ad for a live in job as an au pair. When she gets there, she meets the two young children she’ll be looking out for and the other workers of the house, including the gardener, Jamie (Amelia Eve). Throughout her stay at Bly she begins to notice weird behaviors from both children and by the end of the series she sacrifices herself for the children. Sadly, this story is being told by Jamie who Dani had fallen in love with during her stay at Bly. Now I was somewhat upset about the lack of horror, but was still very intrigued and drawn in by this series.

5) Julie and the Phantoms

Alright, at first I was not gonna watch this show. I thought it looked a little too young and childish for me, but everyone was talking about it on twitter so I had to. I. Love. This. Show. This show centers around Julie (Madison Reyes). Julie is a teenage girl who, sadly, lost her mother. The one major thing she shared with her mom, was their love for music. Since her mothers passing, she gave up music. This is until, dead musicians from the 90′s show up in her garage. Luke (Charlie Gillespie), Alex (Owen Joyner), and Reggie (Jeremy Shada) all tragically passed away in the 90′s after eating bad street hotdogs. When Julie finds their CD in her garage, she decides to play it and they come back in ghost form. But, only she can see them. With their help, she finds her confidence to play music again. Also, she has to find away for them to stay because they’re slowly disappearing. 

6) Derry Girls

Bitch. I love this show. And yeah it didn’t come out in 2020. Shut up. I found this show recently after watching the cast on the holiday special of the Great British Baking Show. I loved the actors so I had to watch the show. This show focuses on Erin (Saoirse-Monica Jackson) a 16 year old girl that lives in Derry, Northern Ireland in the 90′s. Alongside her is her cousin Orla (Louisa Harland), her two friends Clare (Nicola Coughlan) and Michelle (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), and Michelle’s English cousin James (Dylan Llewellyn). During these years, a lot of people in Ireland struggled, especially because it was during wartime. Even thought this show isn’t focused heavily around the war, it’s amazing to see these teens live a fulfilling life while struggling with the state of their country, and the lack of money that their families have. 

7) Elite

HA. This show did have a season in 2020 so leave me alone. But bro, I love this show. At first, I didn’t watch it because I thought I could only watch the dubbed version in English, which I hate. I hate dubbed shows they look so weird. But, once I found out I could watch this show in Spanish, I fell in love. But, sadly, theres too damn much to talk about in one little post. It’s crazy. But basically it just follows the lives of teens in high school that are trying to survive. And no, not in the “I’m surviving high school,” sense. No, people be getting murdered. 

MOVIES (tbh i didn’t find a lot of movies good this year lmk which movies u liked this year and maybe i’ll like them!)

1) All the Bright Places

After the death of her sister, Violet (Elle Fanning) is devastated. She closes herself off, and has her parents get her out of doing school work that involves working with others. But, as time goes on, they realize she may need to start to move on. Violet then meets Finch (Justice Smith) who is enamored by Violet. He suggests they do a project together. While finding and visiting some of the smallest wonders of their state, they begin to fall for each other. While you are focusing on Violet and her mental health, you tend to miss some of the signs that Finch’s mental health isn’t great either, but by the time you do, it could be too late. 

2) Dangerous Lies

Hmm. This was weird for me. I had only ever seen Camila Mendes in Riverdale, and honestly, not a fan. So, Katie (Camila Mendes) and her husband Adam (Jessie T. Usher) are struggling with money. Katie decides to take a job working for an elderly man, and eventually gets her husband hired there as well. Unfortunately, he dies, but for some odd reason, leaves the house and all of his fortune, to Katie. As they get comfortable in the house, they begin to uncover some very weird and dangerous lies. 

3) The Devil All the Time

Ok. Iconic. You got so many hot men in this movie. Bill Skarsgård, Sebastian Stan, Tom Holland, Robert Pattinson. C’mon now. That’s crazy. But, this story is so long and in depth that I wouldn’t even know where to begin. This movie is a bit disturbing. It involves murder, sexual assault, killing of animals, and so much more so if that’s an issue for you please do not watch this movie. It was also quite long, but it was still good.

4) After We Collided

Okay just listen. I was that teenager. I read wattpad stories and was, embarrassingly, addicted to After. This was not a great movie per say, but it was After. This is a sequel to the movie After. This movie centers around Tessa (Josephine Langford) and her recovery after her breakup with Hardin (Hero Fiennes Tiffin). Theres sex, alcohol, bad acting. The whole nine-yards. But c’mon, they’re so cute together.

5) To All the Boys p.s. I Still Love You

Okay it was a good movie. I enjoyed it. This movie focuses on Lara Jean (Lana Condor) and her boyfriend Peter (Noah Centineo) and their relationship post the first movie. But of course relationships aren’t super steady, and John Ambrose McClaren (Jordan Fisher) shows up. Yeah, John Ambrose, from her letter. They become closer and Lara Jean has to decide who she wants to be with. Spoiler, it’s Peter. BOOOOOOO justice for John Ambrose McClaren, he deserved better. 

[thetriggeredhappy]

I absolutely love your writing! If you're taking requests, could you maybe do a speeding bullet soulmate au?

thanks a lot pal! and sure thing, i’ve actually had something half-finished in my drafts for soulmate!au for a while. in this AU, it’s the classic “your first words to your soulmate are written on your wrist”, with a minor twist–if your soulmate’s words are on your left hand, that means you will need to speak first. if it’s on the right, then your soulmate is the one who has to speak first before you say your words. this adds a little bit of clarity in-universe, since you can see your phrase is something simple like “how can i help you” and if you’re speaking second you can shoot them back with something buckwild. it can lead to people being more or less extroverted–knowing your line comes second means you can say whatever without being worried that it’ll be written on some poor sap’s skin, and knowing your line comes first means you don’t have that luxury. also limitations like “must be speaking exclusively to that one person” (unless polyamory), “can’t be through a phone or writing”, and “must be identifiable as the person” (do with that what you please). anyways, i like soulmate AUs and put a lot of thought into them.

actual fic is below the cut, and again, you’re very kind

”Are you doing alright, mate?”

To be honest, that wasn’t the worst line that Jeremy could’ve gotten, but fuckin’ seriously.

It wasn’t as bad as his brother Joey, he had “Your shoe’s untied” on the left, and Petey got the nightmare scenario and just got “Hey, how’s your day?” on the right, but the thing that really frustrated him was that it wasn’t even the reaction phrase. That was the opening phrase, meaning they had to say that to him first before he could respond with his own line, and if they were asking if he was doing alright that had to mean something bad was gonna happen and he’d probably look stupid in front of his soulmate and not have a good response or whatever because he’d just, like, fallen in the harbor or something.

Turned out, by the time Jeremy was twelve, he was starting to find out that bad things happening to him was gonna be a consistent issue. He had bad luck, worse than all his brothers combined, and over the course of all that time he got an awful lot of “Are you okay, dude?” and “Are you alright?” from a lot of people. But none of them ever got it exactly right,

missing the crucial few words, nobody ever saying “mate”. Nobody ever asking him that in a voice that felt dark orange.

“Y’know,” his Ma said to him one day when he was sulking, twenty-two and still soulmate-less and with a terrible time at job hunting to boot considering his most recent cast, luckily on his left arm so he could still glare at his mark. “It does have a hint at least.”

“That I’m gonna be a total klutz forever?” Jeremy sulked.

“That your soulmate isn’t gonna be an American, sweetheart,” his Ma corrected gently. “He’s probably gonna be British, or Irish, something like that. They’re the only ones who say “mate”, right?”

“Didn’t you also think my dad was gonna be a Canadian?” he asked suspiciously.

“Honey, I’m not magic, I don’t know everything. I thought it was unrealistic to think it would be someone actually from France,” she said, a little haughty.

She was one of the lucky people to get a really specific phrase, in a language that wasn’t her own no less. It was in French, and when he’d asked as a kid what it said, she’d laughed and said it meant “I promise I had a much more intelligent line to say, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten it.”

She always said his dad had died, and worn the traditional covering to show that someone’s soulmate was dead, to hide where the words had gone black. But once or twice he’d glimpsed her wrist, and to be honest, the words looked more navy blue.

“Why the heck am I gonna talk to a British person?” Jeremy asked, sulking again.

“World works in mysterious ways, J-Bear,” his Ma shrugged.

She was right. Because a few months later, he was in a particularly terrible situation, and he received a phone call asking if he wanted a job.

-

”I’m seriously, actually, 100% going to murder you.”

It hadn’t shown up until he was four years old, which Mick’s parents had a bloody field day with, and once they were good and tired of dealing with that conundrum they moved right along to address the fact that in reply to whatever their son was going to say, he was going to promptly be threatened.

Great.

He ended up baking under the sun just like everyone else in his god-forsaken country, which only made the bright, cherry-red phrase stand out all the better. His mum tried to be supportive, honest she did, but even getting bullied at school every other day never led to him finding anyone, and she wasn’t all that surprised when at age nineteen he packed up the bare essentials and left home without a word.

He had an idea in his head. He’d heard before of people, terrible people, who used the idea of soulmate to do… bad things. To manipulate people, to make them stay in bad relationships because they thought this one person could and would solve all their problems. And if his soulmate’s first words to him were a threat…

He’d admit if he was asked that he was a lonely person. He didn’t ever seem to fit with anyone. Nobody ever seemed to understand what he meant once he started actually talking, being honest. And he didn’t know if he would have the strength to get out of a bad situation if he was promised up front that this person would understand him. He was pretty sure he would put up with a lot of bad things just for the sake of genuine connection.

So he decided he wouldn’t ever find his soulmate. He’d go off to do hunting and tracking in fuckall nowhere and nobody would ever bother him and he’d never need to deal with a soulmate. He didn’t need one. He’d be fine alone.

When he eventually turned to killing people for money, some part of him deep down wondered if he was just getting too lonely and giving in to what fate had in store for him. If becoming an assassin was the most pathetic, fucked-up bid for someone’s love that had ever happened in history. People did threaten to kill him a lot in that line of work. And more often, people actually tried.

Eventually he got a job offer out in America, more consistent pay and all for the same job, less moving around required, and he took it. He was getting up there in years, and he had a feeling that if he hadn’t found his soulmate by the time he hit thirty, he never would.

-

Jeremy got a new name: Scout. And his new coworkers—“teammates”, as the very pretty lady who unfortunately didn’t ask if he was doing alright had specified to him—were from all over the place. And he’d had high hopes for a minute as he realized one of his teammates was Scottish, but when he spoke face-to-face with the guy he’d instead greeted him with a cheerful “Pleasure to meet you, lad!” and his reply of “Yo, so you’re the Demoman?” had elicited exactly no response, so that was a bust.

He spoke to the Pyro, as briefly as possible since they freaked him out, but they’d similarly not seemed to react to what he first said to them, and neither had any of the rest of the team. Hell, the Heavy had outright brushed him off up front and the Sniper had given him exactly one up-and-down before he’d left entirely.

So cool. Great. New job with people who didn’t care. Nice.

And he found out more and more as time passed that they very much didn’t care. Most of the team could hardly tolerate him for more than ten minutes at a time, Spy he could barely put up with for two sentences, and even though he eventually got to be better friends with Pyro, and Engie eventually started putting up with him more, they still got annoyed with him pretty quickly. Pyro basically ignored him once they reached their limit, and Engie would essentially kick him out of his workshop.

And… to be honest, he didn’t feel totally comfortable talking to them about certain stuff. He felt a little bit like he’d get laughed at. And his once-every-two-weeks phone call home sometimes wasn’t enough to deal with various stresses and he usually was more interested in hearing their news than complaining anyways.

He didn’t know why he went out to the watchtower. Maybe because he was out for a run and it just happened to be in his line of sight. Maybe because it occurred to him that Sniper could keep a secret, wouldn’t tell the guys about whatever he ended up talking about. Maybe because he felt like he didn’t really have any other options.

Anyways, he ended up climbing the watchtower, asking Sniper if it would bug him if Scout sat around and hung out for a while. Sniper didn’t reply, just glancing at Scout over his shoulder briefly before returning to his scope. And then Scout made it exactly three minutes before he started in on talking. “I dunno I just think it’s funny that Spy thinks I’m rude when he’s always the one starting shit for no reason—“

And Sniper didn’t interrupt him, didn’t say anything, didn’t chase him off. He sat there, staring down his scope, occasionally pausing to take a drink of his coffee, for about two hours. Two hours of Scout just talking, thinking out loud.

It was nice. So nice that Scout cut himself off, eventually said goodbye and left the tower again, sure that Sniper would get tired of him and he’d never be allowed back up there again.

It became a weekly thing, every Monday Scout would go up there and talk to Sniper. Talk at Sniper, more like. And Sniper would listen.

One of the days, Scout said something, something he couldn’t even remember, because it was overshadowed by the thing that immediately followed it—Sniper laughing.

He’d never heard Sniper laugh before, he didn’t think. Not in the real way, anyhow. Sniper didn’t talk much. He’d occasionally mention something over the comms, and once or twice Scout heard him cheering along with the rest of the team when they won a match, but overall, he was a man of few words. So getting him to laugh…

He thought about it a lot.

-

Sniper didn’t entirely get why Scout started talking to him.

He tried so hard—so hard—to be left alone. He put on a scowl and wore the brim of his hat low and carried his knife off the clock and didn’t say hello or goodbye. He wanted to be left alone. He deserved to be left alone.

Scout, apparently, didn’t notice. And halfway through Sniper trying to figure out what to say to get the kid to leave, he started telling some story about his brothers back home, and…

He never got around to it. He never… got around to telling him to leave. And once Scout had that foothold, had that… constant nature, that consistency, once Sniper knew to expect him every Monday two hours after the team dinner or half an hour before sunset—whichever came first—he found himself…

God damn it. Enjoying Scout’s company. He liked some of the phrases Scout used. He talked in an interesting way. It was pleasant to listen to. And he was honest, uncomfortably honest at times. He told Sniper about all sorts of things that he figured it was safe to say nobody else knew about.

He talked about his family. His mum. His dad, who died, and then later he corrected himself to say his dad, who disappeared, who probably left, words in navy and not in black. He talked about growing up in the bad part of town, about never being allowed to walk home from school without at least one of his older brothers there until he was eight, when he started carrying a knife on him because sometimes none of his brothers showed up for him, until he was twelve, when he just started running there and back every day after baseball practice to save the trouble. About shoplifting, about getting a job delivering newspapers the second he was legally allowed to, about older brothers going in to work sick and Ma working two jobs to try and support them all when they got too sick for work, too sick for anything for a while. About what he did with his paycheck—he kept some pocket change for himself, to buy records sometimes, or posters, or snack foods for when dinner sucked, or fast food or drinks at the bar when he had time on the weekends. The rest of it—every goddamn penny—went back home. One day, maybe his Ma would never have to work again.

He wanted to tell Scout about his own sad life story. Climbing up the tree outside school and throwing rocks at the bullies who chased him, starting to skip classes and smoke towards the end of his schooling just to try and look a little more intimidating. About his dad scoffing at him when he tended to use a gun to chase off predators from their flock of sheep instead of fighting them hand-to-hand like a good Australian. About running away from all of his problems, and how killing animals, especially people, seemed to be the only thing he was ever any good at, and how sometimes that really did bother him, a lot.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t convince himself that Scout cared, somehow. Visits jumped up to twice a week, Monday and Thursday, same time. It was hot for a while, and he went into town one Sunday to pick up two cases of beer, hauled a cooler up into the watchtower, and left three beers next to where Scout sat and three next to himself about ten minutes before the kid showed up. When it started getting cold at night, he brought up his own quilt like he always did, but brought up the spare as well, left that on what he’d mentally started thinking of as Scout’s Crate. Scout drank the beers, and used the blanket, and would talk for his two hours and then say goodbye and not mention anything to Sniper when they went out to battle the next day.

It…

He didn’t like that he enjoyed it so much. He didn’t like looking forward to it, didn’t like perking up when he heard the ladder rattling, didn’t like hanging on to every word and the increasing frequency at which Scout was making him laugh. He didn’t like how much harder it got every time to bite his lip and hold back from chiming in.

He was a killer, he reminded himself. A hermit from absolutely nowhere Australia who didn’t deserve the company of other people. This was the best thing that could’ve happened to him, and he couldn’t push his luck. If he pushed his luck, then he’d drive Scout away and be left alone again. Scout only talked to him because he was quiet anyways, because he was a mystery. Remove the mystery, and the draw would be gone, and he’d be all alone again. Already this was selfish; he should just shut up and be grateful.

He stared down his scope and drank his coffee and was grateful.

-

A bad day at work, followed by a bad weekend, had Scout hesitating at the base of the watchtower.

Some part of him was rational, and knew he was being ridiculous. But another, stronger part of him couldn’t seem to make his feet move, was repeating a steady mantra to him.

Not wanted.

Sniper didn’t like him. Sniper didn’t want him around. Sniper was just too polite to turn him away, too nice, and was annoyed with his constant talking and wished he would go away but didn’t have the courage, didn’t want to be rude. He wasn’t wanted. Or maybe Sniper just pitied him, maybe Sniper just heard his assorted sob stories and thought, man, poor little idiot kid, might as well set out a blanket for him and let him talk. Maybe Sniper was collecting everything he said for blackmail.

The worst idea to run through his head: maybe Sniper had never been listening to him in the first place.

If Sniper wanted him around, he would’ve said something, right?

Scout didn’t go up into the watchtower that day, or the following Thursday. He didn’t bother looking for Sniper in battle, sure that Sniper would be ignoring him the same way he always did, pretending he didn’t exist the same way he always did.

When he went to the store that weekend, hoping to pick up some chips and soda, he found himself staring at a six-pack of beer. He didn’t even particularly like beer, usually, he preferred other drinks. But he was looking at this six-pack of beer, and he wound up buying it.

It wasn’t some cheap garbage, it was craft beer. It was more expensive.

He drank exactly three of the six and tried not to think about it.

-

Scout was gone. He never showed up. Sniper ended up getting so freaked out about it that he went to check the Medbay, sure that something bad had happened. Medic was there, working on something bloody, but not Scout. And Scout wasn’t in the workshop either, or the workout room, or the rec room. He got a lot of strange looks from his teammates as he asked around. For some, it was the most he’d spoken to them in months.

He was halfway to Scout’s room when he realized he was probably being strange, manic. Scout was allowed to not want to come visit him. He wasn’t offering anything. In all the time—six months, he realized, they’d been doing this for six months—that Scout had visited, all he really had to gain was Sniper occasionally humming or laughing, and exactly three beers on the hotter days and a tobacco-scented blanket in the winter. There was no reason for Sniper to expect him to show up on the little schedule that had been established. He started to feel silly.

Then he didn’t show up on Thursday either, and…

He felt worried, of course he felt worried, obviously he felt worried. One of the only good things to ever happen to him, and it just stopped showing up one day. And he wanted it back. God, he wanted it back. Two days and he already felt more lonely than he ever felt in his life. Maybe having felt even the smallest glimmer of companionship had made him soft, but damn it, he wanted to feel it again.

He made a decision.

-

Scout was lacing up his shoes before battle on Monday when a pair of boots stopped in front of him. This wasn’t strange. What was strange was that it wasn’t the calm amble of Engie, the sturdy stride of Heavy, the confident stomp of Soldier, or the crisp stride of Medic. No, it was an awkward shuffle. A rough clearing of a throat. He looked up, and it was Sniper.

He froze up. “Uh,” he said. “Hi.”

Sniper was looking at him. That was strange. In something like 95% of their interactions, Sniper was facing away from him down a scope, occasionally viewed in profile as he took a sip of beer or coffee, depending on the weather. And the other times were in battle itself, both of them otherwise preoccupied. But now Sniper was looking at him, thumbs shoved in his front pockets. After a second he moved to take off his sunglasses and immediately glanced off to one side, tapping them against his palm.

It looked like a nervous tick. This was strange. Sniper was never like this. Scout was confused.

Sniper glanced towards the rest of the team, all a short ways away, chatting amongst themselves at various volumes. When he spoke, his voice was rough and low and quiet. If Scout had to describe it, he would call it a dark orange.

“Are you doing alright, mate?” he asked, tone hesitant.

Scout remained frozen. Stared. Stared.

“It’s just,” Sniper continued, stumbling awkwardly with his words, unable to make further eye contact with Scout. “You haven’t come around in a while, and I suppose I just got… worried, that something happened—“

Scout got to his feet, whirled around, and angrily started digging through his locker, jaw clenched. He eventually pulled forth a pocket knife and angrily started ripping the grip tape from his right hand. He didn’t say a word.

“I’m sorry,” Sniper said quickly, holding up his hands, taking a step back. “I, I just thought it was odd is all, I didn’t know if—“

Scout silenced him by holding his now-bare wrist directly in Sniper’s line of sight, a few inches from his face, Sniper flinching back minutely at the motion. When he realized what he was looking at, his eyes widened. He looked at Scout. Scout looked at him.

“I’m seriously, actually, 100% going to murder you,” Scout said calmly, matter-of-factly, and Sniper had never thought about it before, but he would absolutely describe Scout’s voice as a bright red. Shaking hands moved to undo his watch, and he held his own wrist, the left, out for Scout to see.

Silence for a few seconds. “I—“ Sniper started to say, but was cut off by Scout.

“I cannot believe that you’ve never once since I’ve met you ever talked one-on-one with me. You’ve never said a fuckin’ word to me, Snipes,” Scout said, more than a little pissed off.

“I didn’t realize,” Sniper defended, a little weakly. “I thought… I thought I had.”

“Man, how many people can say they fuckin’ monologued to their soulmate for hours and hours before meeting them, huh?” Scout asked, hands on his hips now.

“I’m sorry,” was all Sniper could think to say.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Scout declared, glaring at Sniper hard. “I’m gonna meet you after work like usual at the watchtower, and you’re takin’ me to go get pizza, and I’m gonna eat pizza while you talk about yourself. You’ve got about—“

He did some math in his head.

“Somethin’ like sixty hours or so of talkin’ to do to make it even,” he decided. “Got it?”

“Got it,” Sniper agreed weakly. Scout moved to sit down and start lacing his shoes up again, but before he could get to it, Sniper spoke again. “I’m… glad you’re okay.”

Scout looked back up at him. The sudden influx of nervous honesty on Sniper’s face made him feel surprisingly guilty. “Sorry. I just… got all up in my own head. I figured I was probably pissing you off, so I stopped going.” A pause. “I wasn’t pissing you off?”

“No,” Sniper replied. “Not at all. I… liked… having you around.”

Scout fought hard against the smile threatening to take hold. “Good to know,” he finally said.

“And I should’ve said something earlier,” Sniper continued, words flowing forth in a rush. “I should’ve told you, I should’ve—let you know. I really should’ve.”

“Well,” Scout shrugged, and finished tying his laces up, and stood to face Sniper head-on. “Now you told me.”

A pause between them, Sniper clearly working very hard to maintain eye contact.

“It doesn’t have to be pizza,” Scout amended, picking at his remaining hand’s worth of grip tape. “It can be anything. I just wanna hang out, like, away from base.”

“Like a date?” Sniper asked, slowly, hesitantly.

“Sure,” Scout shrugged.

A pause again. “Pizza’s fine,” Sniper seemed to decide.

“Alright,” Scout said, and smiled at him. “Alright. I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah,” Sniper agreed, and took his cue to walk away. He stood off to one side of the rest of the team, moving to take a drink of his coffee. His wrist caught his eye, and he looked over the words again, and for the first time in his life, they didn’t bring him dread. They brought him hope.

[nicolewrites]

two shots of vodka

@mishspelled, @tsunnychan, @shining-jul-of-hope here’s more of this roommates au nonsense because someone talked down about vodka. 

Dedicated to that one shrine in BOTW which sucks and also the cocktails my friend and I made on Canada Day last year. 

Rating: T Genre: Friendship Characters: Sylvain Jose Gautier & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Words: 2,300

Movie night has been their tradition for years. / roommates au

AO3

“Are you two going to help me or continue to fail miserably?” Ingrid called.

Her hands were currently stained red from the juice of the strawberries she was cutting and she’d only made it through half of a box. The lemonade and vodka bottles were waiting on standby next to the blender and the box of popcorn was still sitting, unpopped, on the counter in front of the microwave.

“We’re almost there, Ing, come on!” Sylvain protested, not even tearing his eyes from the TV screen.

Felix didn’t even bother to reply, twisting his controller with such an intense look of concentration Ingrid wondered if he would throw the controller at the TV if he managed to lose this time. On the screen, the glowing orb balanced precariously on the edge of some kind of maze thing. Felix tilted his hands a little and the orb shot forward, launching onto the next area of land.

Sylvain cheered and jumped off the couch as the game played its telltale jingle for the correct solving of the puzzle. “Fuck yeah, Felix!”

Felix groaned and dropped the controller, tipping sideways so that his face collided with the couch. “I fucking hate that puzzle. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “No one told you that you had to play the game again.”

Felix lifted his hand and flipped her off without moving. “I have to be ready for the race.”

Sylvain laughed. “Look, just because Dorothea challenged you to a race doesn’t mean you have to actually do it.”

Felix looked up at Sylvain. “You’re joking, right? I’m not losing to a music major.”

Ingrid clicked her tongue as she finished cutting up the last of the strawberries. She scooped them up and dropped them into the blender. “You seem plenty happy to lose to Annette whenever she’s over,” she teased.

Felix went red and scowled. He saved his game and quit to the main menu before shutting the console off. He jumped up and walked into the kitchen. “How can I help?”

Ingrid grabbed the lemonade bottle and poured a healthy amount into the blender. “Can you grab me the ice cubes from the freezer?”

Felix immediately opened the freezer. Ingrid turned to glare at Sylvain who was still lounging on the couch, though now he was scrolling on his phone. He glanced at her when he realized she was staring at him and just batted his eyes at her innocently.

“Are you going to help?”

“And get stuck doing all the dishes like I always do anyway? No,” he replied cheerfully.

Ingrid wanted to berate him, but he had a point. Sylvain almost always ended up doing the dishes. He was the worst cook of the three of them, so that meant he was almost always relegated to dish-duty after meals. When alcohol was involved, he ended up doing the dishes purely because he had the highest tolerance and was the most adept and practiced at managing his hangovers.

She picked up the vodka bottle and reached around Felix for their liquor cupboard. Felix glanced at her oddly, but placed the ice cube tray next to the blender and backed out of her way. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms.

“What are you doing?”

Ingrid grabbed the metal cup from the cabinet and waved it at him. “I need this."

Sylvain laughed. “Ah, Ingrid, always the responsible one, using the jigger to measure our alcohol intake.”

Ingrid was screwing off the lid of the vodka bottle when he spoke. She paused. “The what?” she questioned.

Sylvain blinked. “The jigger.” He gestured to the shot-measuring cup she was holding.

“Why the fuck do you know what that thing is called?” Felix asked, staring at Sylvain.

Sylvain raised an eyebrow. “Because we own one? And we drink a lot?”

Ingrid laughed out loud, almost spilling vodka on the counter. “Sylvain, I’m pretty sure only bartenders who are either super hipster and sell you the most expensive shit on the menu or the ones who work high-class events know what these things are called. As far as I’m concerned it’s a shot-measurer.”

Sylvain’s ears reddened. “It’s not that strange of a thing to know!” he argued.

The doorbell rang, saving Sylvain from more teasing and Felix slipped out of the kitchen and down the hall to open the door. Ingrid focused back on the task at hand, measuring a full shot of vodka and adding it to the blender. She dumped a handful of ice cubes in and then measured another shot.

Sylvain hopped up from the couch and leaned on the counter across from her, watching her as she mixed their drinks for the night. “Please tell me you’re adding more than two shots to that thing. Dimitri is coming.”

Ingrid paused and stared at him. “It’s not Dimitri I’m worried about.”

Sylvain held his hands up innocently. “Don’t blame a guy for his alcohol tolerance.”

“You started drinking when you were like 14."

“I had a good high school experience.”

“Sylvain.”

“Ingrid,” he parroted teasingly.

He leaned forward until there was only about an inch between their faces and every muscle in Ingrid’s body tensed. She was saved from having to react when Felix and Dimitri re-entered the kitchen. Sylvain leaned back and she went back to measuring vodka to add to the drink mix.

“Why do you know what a jigger is called?” Dimitri asked Sylvain, completely bypassing any greeting.

Sylvain smacked his forehead. “Is it really that weird?”

“Yes,” Ingrid and Felix chorused.

“I mean, I knew what it was called,” Dimitri admitted. “But that’s because there was a very chatty bartender at an event I went to last summer.”

Sylvain and Ingrid exchanged a look. A chatty bartender meant a flirty bartender and Dimitri, in his glorious and typical Dimitri fashion, had not even noticed a thing was strange about her behaviour, chalking it up to the woman being “friendly”.

“Anyway,” Sylvain cleared his throat. “I see you have brought food to rescue us from Ingrid’s inevitable wrath.”

Ingrid was almost offended, but then her stomach growled and she could only drop her gaze back to the blender and hope that she wasn’t flushing. She dumped a few more ice cubes in and slapped the lid on, holding the blend button as the grinding sound quickly drowned out her embarrassment.

Dimitri dropped the pizza box on the counter and Felix immediately went to pull out plates. Sylvain strode into the kitchen and it was suddenly very overcrowded with her three male friends, Dimitri and Sylvain especially, who had no concept of the fact that they were buff guys who took up much more room than they thought they did.

Ingrid stopped the blender and picked up the pitcher, sloshing the liquid in it a bit. It had changed to a pretty pinkish colour thanks to the strawberries and it smelled both sweet and alcoholic: just how they liked it. She poured it into the four glasses she had out and turned to hand them off.

Felix took the first glass and Sylvain the second. Dimitri took the third and replaced it with a plate that had three slices of pizza on it. Ingrid beamed at him and carried both the plate and her own glass over to the couch where she sat next to Felix in the centre of the couch. Dimitri immediately claimed the armchair and Sylvain lingered in the kitchen to grab the bottle of vodka from the counter.

Felix tasted the drink and wrinkled his nose. “This shit is sweet.”

Ingrid sipped it and was pleasantly surprised by the sweet and fruity taste of it. It tasted almost exactly like the strawberry lemonades she used to get at restaurants as a kid with just the slightest hint of alcohol.

“I think that’s the point,” Dimitri said as he sipped from his own glass. His brow shot up. “Wow, there’s alcohol in this?”

Ingrid hummed in agreement. “Annette gave me the recipe. I wanted to try it out.”

Sylvain plopped down on the couch next to her and placed the vodka bottle and four shot glasses down. “As lovely and boozy as it is, we’re still doing this with shots.”

Felix grumbled. “Just because you don’t have anything to do tomorrow.”

Sylvain grinned. “Your fault for scheduling shit after movie night.”

Felix crossed his arms and glared at Sylvain. “You’re cancelling on us next week so we rescheduled to this week. This is your fault.”

Sylvain shrugged. “Hey, the girl from my gym said she was only free next weekend. I’m not going to miss that opportunity.”

Ingrid’s drink was suddenly less sweet. She placed it on the coffee table and stood up, heading for her room. She grabbed the hat from her dresser and walked back into the living room. She placed it on the corner of the TV and balanced it so it wouldn’t fall off.

Felix grabbed the remote from the table. “I can’t believe we’re watching this movie again.”

Ingrid sat down between Felix and Sylvain and picked up her drink again, grinning. “It was my turn to pick and we watched Dimitri’s choice last time. Besides, this one works great with the hat game.”

Sylvain tapped his glass against hers. “Not that we don’t appreciate the artistry of The King’s Speech, Dimitri, but Ingrid is definitely correct on this one. Die Hard is a true pinnacle of cinema.”

Felix rolled his eyes but queued the movie. “No chickening out on these rules.”

Ingrid laughed. “Yeah, yeah we know. Every time someone wears the hat you take a sip and every time they have a line while wearing it we do a shot. We have done this before.”

Dimitri slouched in his chair. “I always lose these things immediately.”

Sylvain threw an arm over Ingrid’s shoulder and smirked at Dimitri. “That’s because you care more about the film than the actual drinking. We’d get the same reaction from Ingrid if we were watching the Great British Bake Off or Chopped.”

Ingrid elbowed him but didn’t shove his arm off. She was already a little warm in her stomach and she took a bite of her pizza. She was hungry and they were about to drink a whole lot more, so she needed to have food to balance the copious amounts of alcohol.

“Are we still doing the Sylvain rule?” Dimitri asked as the studio logo took over the screen as the movie started.

“Obviously,” Ingrid snorted. “Anything stupid or romantic he’d do means the last one to shout “Sylvain” takes a shot. That’s a given for whatever film we’re watching.”

“Everyone shut up,” Felix grouched as the film started.

-

Ingrid was warm. She was warm and her arm was numb and her eyes were sticky. She shifted the arm that wasn’t numb and brought her hand up to rub her face. She pried her eyes open and got an eyeful of grey t-shirt.

She blinked and twisted, realizing that she was definitely not in her bed. She tried to sit up, but she couldn’t move her left arm, the numb one, at all. It was thoroughly pinned between her very fit roommate and the couch that they had fallen asleep together on. Plus, his arm was tightly wrapped around her waist like a steel band, keeping her pinned against him. Her head had been resting against the top of his chest over his shoulder and under his chin.

Sylvain didn’t stir as Ingrid twisted, still passed out cold. Ingrid managed to carefully extract her arm and pry Sylvain’s arm off of her. She had a horrid crick in her neck that made her scowl as she disentangled their legs. She sat on the very edge of the couch and looked around the living room.

Sylvain was, naturally, passed out on the couch where they had been unintentionally cuddling. Dimitri was asleep in the armchair, head awkwardly bent forward against his shoulder. Felix was nowhere to be seen. Ingrid turned and looked behind her into the kitchen and saw her other roommate standing in the kitchen, sipping from a coffee mug with an amused look on his face.

She rolled her eyes and stood up, walking towards him. She dropped her voice low so that she didn’t wake Dimitri or Sylvain. “When did you get up?”

“About fifteen minutes ago,” Felix whispered back. “Unlike you idiots, I did actually make it to my bed last night.”

Ingrid’s cheeks warmed and she glanced at the back of the couch where Sylvain was still sleeping. “We just fell asleep?”

He shrugged. “We were talking after the movie and you started wrestling with him. Dimitri was already out so I just went to bed. I guess you guys fell asleep after that.”

It wasn’t unusual for them to fall asleep after movie night and it certainly wasn’t the first time that she’d woken up cuddled to one of her friends. The best was still the time that Dimitri and Sylvain had fallen asleep together and she and Felix had taken many, many photos.

“Did he get his contacts out?” she asked, gesturing to the couch.

Felix shrugged. “I doubt it. It’ll be his problem today.”

Ingrid’s nose wrinkled. She felt sympathetic, but not overly remorseful. Sylvain had bitched about how much he hated sleeping with his contacts in before, but he continued to forget to take them out so it really was his problem.

“How much did we drink?”

Felix nodded to the vodka bottle by the sink. It was empty. Ingrid slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle a startled laugh.

“Oh,” she replied dumbly.

Felix sipped his coffee again and shrugged. “Pretty on brand, honestly.”

[the-coconut-asado]

Our Golden Girl’s Kitchen

A couple of years back, my cousin Doro announced she was going to publish a book of our grandmother’s recipes. It set all the cousins off on an odyssey of frenzied WhatsApps swapping memories, and in my case a mad dash to storage to find yet another of mum’s old scrapbooks, stuffed with fragments of recipes typed up on that onion-skin paper of the Mad Men era. 

Slowly but surely, recipes surfaced for Granny’s steak and kidney pudding (to this day, the name of our family WhatsApp group), tallarines (fettuccine by any other name) and more cakes and tarts than a whole series of Masterchef pressure tests.  

But Doro’s job was made much easier by someone else who had kept Granny’s legacy alive all these years. The person who, while Granny was a distant memory for many of us, was the biggest influence on our lives. At the end of the book, Doro wrote a dedication to her: “ Auntie Joan, I remember you, sometime before Christmas, making us stir the plum pudding and saying “don’t forget to make a wish!”; the chicken pie or Irish stew with dumplings you prepared when I used to come for lunch after university classes; the plum ice cream you always had in your “ancient” fridge and the smell of scones and cake on our birthdays.’

Last week, Auntie Joan died. 99 years of love, wisdom and many a raised eyebrow at each of us at one time or another. She had a delicious smile that hinted at secrets she might share with you some day, and even up to her mid-nineties kept a ramrod straight back, figure to die for and effortless elegance that prompted a 28 year old male friend to comment at my wedding that she was the only 68 year old he had ever fancied.Cheeky, but at the same time, kudos. 

If I’ve made her sound  like a warm embrace of a woman, she was. She was also a ninja. For most of her working life, Auntie Joan  - Joan Nolan MBE -  was Vice Consul at the British Embassy in Rosario, and later in Buenos Aires. She started volunteering there during the war, and eventually they started to pay her (nice of them), then promote her. 

This had upsides - her influence to help others (a guiding principle of her life), the opportunity to travel, and the people she met. She once told me of an Embassy cocktail party on board a ship attended by Eva and Juan Peron. She had little time for Peron, but was a little flattered when having started to leave down the gangplank he  abruptly turned back, sought Auntie Joan out, kissed her hand and apologised profusely for not having said goodbye. Manners counted for a lot with her, so the apparently off-hand Eva was barely mentioned in despatches.  

Her job also had downsides: held at gunpoint more than once, and in the constant company of a bodyguard after her boss was kidnapped (the inspiration for Graham Greene’s novel The Honorary Consul). One day a masked gang raided the embassy, rounded up all the staff, tied them up and locked them in the bathroom. But the ringleader treated Joan with weird courtesy, politely requested she enter the bathroom but left her unbound. Joan said afterwards: “ I think that man knew me. And if I ever see those eyes again, I will know who he was.” She kept looking but never did, but she did show us the hail of bullet holes the gang had let off at the outer wall of the embassy before they left. 

30 years on, at 85, clearly feeling she had been down this road before, she wrestled an armed thief trying to steal her friend’s car. ‘ Dear, I knew the gun was a toy’, she said breezily when I had my WTAF! Moment on a phone call with her.

Though all this time she looked after my grandparents and my great aunt until their deaths - pretty thankless and back-breakingly hard as they all survived to their nineties and in my great aunt’s case to 101 - as well as her husband Stanley who died when she was still young. Yet she still made time to feed, nurture and look out for her nieces and nephews as they travelled through her flat en route to school, college and work - and then her grand nieces and nephews as they repeated the cycle. 

Living in London, I didn’t see as much of Joan as my cousins, but felt just as close to her thanks to her copious letters. And it was her trips to London I remember most. Wafting glamorously into Gatwick in her boucle red overcoat, nipping up to Newcastle for the day to have lunch with a friend (when Dad retold the story, he always added, untruthfully,  ‘And the friend wasn’t even at home!”), leaving a cloud of delicate rose scent in her wake, a perfume that always reminded me of her apartment in Rosario. A bit like Buenos Aires itself, Auntie Joan was an evocation of the best bits of 1930’s Europe. 

And despite eating like a mouse in her own home - spreading her morning toast with what looked and tasted like wallpaper paste but was actually zero cholesterol cream cheese - her kitchen with its pots and pans, scoured and gleaming  within an inch of their lives, was in a constant hiatus of puddings, pies and roasts for the family as well as that iconic plum pudding at Christmas. And when we took her out to eat the appetite she kept hidden at home came tumbling out. I once witnessed her demolish a whole sea bass, noodles and a quarter of a peking duck when we took her to a restaurant in Chinatown. Unlike the rest of my family, she was unafraid of spice and heat. 

Serene, always; sassy,  sometimes. After all, Joan’s favourite TV programme when she came to visit us in London was The Golden Girls. In a life where everyone depended on her, she was someone comfortable with not needing to depend on anyone else - until old age meant she had to. I used to smile to myself when, in later years, she would end all of her stories with ‘And they said, “Joan, you are the ONLY one who could have done/ solved/ sorted/ this’’. And yet, if we don’t tell the world how talented, determined and capable we are - who else is going to? #thiswomancould

So here are two dishes that we all eat thanks to Auntie Joan - her plum ice cream (with some added spice from cinnamon) and her Spanish Cake, a delicate and sweet treat that evokes  those high teas that are still a family tradition. And finally, a dish that evokes the memory of lemon chicken, the dish that she and my daughter Lara would love to make together. 

Hasta luego, nuestra querida tia. We were so lucky to have you as long as we did. 

Plum ice cream

I have never eaten plum ice cream other than at Auntie Joan’s house and I have no idea why it isn’t a popular flavour commercially. My version only tweaks her original recipe - two egg whites rather than one, a stick of cinnamon and the seeds of a vanilla pod added to the plums as they poach. The brilliant thing about this ice cream - aside from it’s taste of autumn, log fires and sticky crumble - is that you don’t need an ice cream maker.

Serves 4-6

Ingredients

300g red-skinned plums

175g caster sugar

¾ cup water

1 cinnamon stick

Seeds from one vanilla pod

Juice of half a lemon

300g double cream

2 egg whites

How to make

Seed and quarter the plums and pop into a pan with the sugar, cinnamon stick, vanilla seeds and water. Bring to a simmer, cover and continue to simmer on a low heat until the plums are soft and the liquid has become syrupy. Turn off the heat and leave for another 10 minutes - you really want the spices and the red skin of the plums to seep into the syrup. 

Turn the plums into a sieve and extract as much syrup and pulp as you can into a clean bowl, using the back of a spatula. Cover and chill for at least an hour. 

In two separate bowls, whisk the cream until it forms soft peaks (be careful not to overbeat or it will turn into butter) and the egg whites until they form firm peaks. 

Alternate folding the cream, then the egg whites, then cream, then egg whites into the plum pulp. 

Pour into a freezer container - or just use an oblong cake tin, cover and freeze overnight. Remember to take out of the fridge for 15 mins before serving. 

Spanish Cake

This is the perfect cake to eat with a cup of tea or coffee. Light and delicate from texture to flavour. Simple dust of icing sugar on the top and you are good to go. Auntie Joan’s original recipe as typed - which features in Doro’s book - is as spare with detail as one of Bake Off’s technical challenges. Fortunately I featured it in a column I wrote for Choice magazine a few years ago, so  have filled in the gaps. Makes 12-16 squares. 

Ingredients

125g melted unsalted butter

200g caster sugar

2 eggs, separated

125ml milk

600g plain flour

3 tsp baking powder

1 tsp ground cinnamon

¼ tsp mixed spice

Icing sugar to serve

How to Make

Heat the oven to 180C. Grease a 20cm square cake tin and line with baking parchment.

Whisk the sugar with the butter until thick and pale. Add the egg yolks and continue to beat for a couple of minutes. 

Add the milk and beat again. Finally, sift in the flour, baking powder and spices and mix gently until incorporated.

In a separate bowl, whisk the egg whites until stiff, then fold into the cake batter. 

Pour the batter into the cake tin and bake in the oven for 25-30 minutes. The cake is ready when the top is golden and a toothpick or sate stick inserted into the middle comes out clean. 

Cool in the cake tine for 5 minutes then turn out onto a wire rack to cool. When cool, dust the surface with icing sugar, cut into squares and serve. 

Quick Chicken with kale, haricots and caramelised lemon

Auntie Joan loved chicken, and when we visited Buenos Aires when my daughter Lara was little, she and Auntie Joan would love to make lemon chicken together. Am sure she would have loved this flavour-packed little number, courtesy of Alison Roman in the NY Times. 

Ingredients

1 lemon, thinly sliced, seeds removed

1 shallot, peeled and cut into 8

6-8 chicken thighs

1 400g can of haricot or cannellini beans

1 bunch kale, leaves only (discard ribs)

1tblspn sunflower oil

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Olive oil for dressing

How to make

Toss the lemon slices and shallots in a small bowl and season. 

Heat a large frying pan or skillet, add the sunflower oil, then add the chicken, skin side down. Press the chicken down with a spatula to ensure the maximum surface gets nice and brown. Cook for 5-8 minutes, then cook on the other side for a further 8-10  minutes until cooked through and the chicken skin is nice and crispy. Transfer the chicken to a plate, leaving the fat in the pan. 

Add the lemon and shallot to the hot pan - stand pack as it will probably spit and sizzle. Cook, stirring gently, until the lemon has started to caramelise - about 3-5 minutes. 

Add the drained beans to the pan and season. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the beans soak up that caramelised chicken fat - about 4 mins. Working in batches, add kale and toss to wilt, seasoning again as you go. 

Return the chicken to the pan, along with the juices that have collected on the plate, and cook for a couple of minutes more. 

Serve, drizzled with a little olive oil, and accompany with some crusty bread. 

[jacnaylor]

tv recs: happy shows edition

I haven’t done this in a really long time, so here are the older editions. (If there’s overlap then I’m sorry, also these are shows that specifically make me have that cozy, happy feeling or that are comforting. all tv rec posts, including ones previously mentioning a couple of these, are here. if some of these i haven’t said as much about it’s probably because they are repeats. also there’s only so many times you can say ‘it makes me happy’)

1. The durrells (aka the durrells in corfu)

a slightly hapless, chaotic british family go and live in corfu in the 30′s. absolutely wild. there’s animals. there’s people falling in the sea. screaming out of windows. it’s fun, it’s silly, it’s gentle and gorgeous. keeley hawes is magnificent.

2. call the midwife

starting in the 50′s and now up to 1965, this follows the trials and triumphs of midwives (some of whom are nuns) in the east end. it covers hard topics as well but mostly it’s that lovely mix of sweetness, compassion and great characters. it’s really just lovely. there’s so many female characters that i love. makes you feel warm and cozy, especially the christmas episodes which air every year 

3. lewis

so this follows two police men solving crimes in oxford. they’re opposites but they end up working well together. lewis is the boss, he’s a gentle man from newcastle mourning his late wife. the young dc is james hathaway - a clever, ex priest turned police man. they ramble around, soft oboe music is playing. they solve crimes, they quote poetry. it’s not a gritty police drama. it’s a subtle show. it loves and showcases oxford. honestly i repeat: the police officers are not ‘gritty’ or ‘hard men’. they’re sad, sure, but in a nice, sensitive sort of way. they want to help people. they care. they aren’t afraid of showing emotions. hathaway talks about his faith and how it affects his work. it’s just not what you expect from a mystery show and it really is worth a watch.

4. good omens

an angel and a demon slowly become friends. they are perfectly happy living on earth, eating sushi and driving old cars. they are slightly perturbed when the anti christ is born and therefore is set to bring about the end of the world. silly, funny, beautifully shot. david tennant and michael sheen are wonderful. it’s absurd and it’s just so great and self aware. and british. 

5. gavin and stacey

one of the best british sitcoms of all time. it’s about an essex boy who falls in love with a welsh girl, and their families and friends coming together. hilarious, heartfelt, incredible. still funny to this day. one of those shows you can watch a hundred times and still find something new. like coming home.

6. derry girls

5 teenagers living in derry in the 90′s. the most chaotic group of people alive. they act like real teenagers, they love each other a lot but they also get themselves into a lot of scrapes. it’s just such a good show to bingewatch and curl up with.

7. galavant

a medieval musical comedy show. diverse cast, great songs, im so bitter it got cancelled but it got a great end so don’t worry. 

8. buzzfeed unsolved true crime and supernatural

so i wasn’t sure about this one but i adore this show so its here. it’s a youtube show with ryan begara, who definitely believes in ghosts and shane madej, who definitely doesn’t. there’s also the true crime edition. it’s HILARIOUS. it’s just these two guys talking like normal people about crimes and ghosts and its just so funny and wonderful and interesting. ryan is having a break down over an empty chair. shane is inviting demons to inhabit his body. it’s a good time.

9. anne with an e

one of the best recent period dramas. following orphan anne shirley and living with her adopted family in green gables. it has hard topics but its also about finding people you love. it’s about family, acceptance and imagination. wonderful!

10. ashes to ashes (and life on mars....i’ll explain)

life on mars is the first in two shows. it follows a police officer who is involved in a car accident and wakes up in 1973. I personally love this show but since ashes to ashes, the continuation (the sequel, if you like) has a happier feel because its set in the 80′s (and the mc is a female police officer.) ashes to ashes is funny, a bit bolshy, but its so fun. it’s a time travel/sci fi cop show that fully leans into the absurdity and is all the better for it. im my opinion it’s best to watch lom first because it’s all one big continuation of the same story. honestly it just makes me happy. 

11. miss fisher’s murder mysteries

phryne fisher, in the late 20′s is a single woman of means. she decides she wants to solve crimes and look good whilst doing it. she also flirts with a police man. her best friend is a lesbian doctor who lets her look at dead bodies. it’s honestly the best. phryne is the most charismatic lead!! includes the line “men. can’t live with them, can’t kill them with an axe.” so worth it just for that

13. great british bake off

a group of contestants bake in a tent in an effort to win the bake off. unlike american competition shows it really is about friendship and the love of baking. they all help each other out! they get very stressed about custard! gorgeous

14. hustle

cheesy, silly, fun 00′s show about a group of con men who decide to only con people who deserve it. i mean. whats not to love. it really does feel 2000s if that makes sense. in the best way. these shows aren’t focusing on being shocking or slick, it’s just telling a fun story. 

15. car share

this one is a comedy, a slice of life, a romance all in the setting of a car. it’s about two work colleagues who are made to join in their works car share initiative. it’s so funny but it’s also just. sweet. its about two normal people. they sing to the radio. they have to jump out to post cards to their nan whilst stuck in a traffic jam. it’s about them connecting and it’s just. it’s so good.

16. miranda

follows miranda, who is about 5′9 and socially incompetent in the extreme whilst she tries to navigate her chaotic life. honestly one of the loveliest shows ever made. 

bonus: the mallorca files, santa clarita diet, strictly come dancing, last tango in halifax, brooklyn nine nine, monarch of the glen

[justalittlelitnerd]

By A Thread by Lucy Score

We weren’t touching. But it felt like the space between us was charged with something. It was acting like a defibrillator on my heart.

This book had everything I want in a romance: a sassy, non-damsel heroine and a hero with soft boi vibes (I am a complete sucker for assholes covering up soft, warm centers). 

Don’t let the office romance aspect dissuade you (it’s obviously a common, but controversial trope in romance b/c power dynamics and whatnot), this is not ~in my experience~ a conventional office romance. 

First, Ally only ends up working at Dominic’s company after he gets her fired and his mom (who’s also his boss at the magazine she also owns) makes the job offer in reparation.  

Second, in addition to the two characters being completely at odds from the first meeting (he got her fired after all), Dominic is staunchly against an office romance not only because of his own values and awareness of power dynamics but because of his father’s history of sexual harrassment and assault. When they eventually fall into bed together (because duh this is a romance) he immediately offers to quit his job so the power dynamics of the office wouldn’t be an issue. 

That being said Dominic is an overbearing, and at times straight up controlling, son of a bitch (sorry as Ally would say his mother is lovely) and it made me want to throat punch him sometimes, but at the same time so did Ally’s stubbornness and pride. 

Score has a talent though for balance because any time Dominic started to get out of control, Ally wouldn’t hesitate to go head to head with him and speak her mind and the honesty and directness was refreshing. 

The ending felt a little bit rushed because clearly Dominic was trying (although in ways that were grossly overbearing and were exactly what Ally didn’t want him to do) and she made it clear that she couldn’t forgive him and I wanted more of a conversation or thought process to why she finally did aside from “that’s what love is.” 

This book was fun and funny and sarcastic and their banter made the story flow and is definitely the main reason I would consider rereading this romance.

Keep reading for some top notch quotes!

It wasn’t out of the kindness of my heart. I had neither kindness nor a heart. I considered it atonement for being an asshole.

Clearly, she wasn’t intimidated by an asshole in Hugo Boss with a haircut that cost more than her entire outfit. I basked in her disdain. It was miles more comfortable for me than the terrified glances and “Right away, Mr. Russo”s I got in the hallways at work.

It had been too long since I’d squashed a disrespectful underling. I itched to do it now. She looked not only like she could take it but that she might even enjoy it.

“Fine. But if she poisons me, I’ll sue her and her entire family. Her great-grandchildren will feel my wrath.” My mother sighed theatrically. “Who hurt you, darling?” It was a joke. But we both knew the answer wasn’t funny.

I knew he felt it, too. That unexpected jolt. Like taking a shot of whiskey or sticking a finger in a light socket. Maybe both at the same time. For one moment of pure insanity, I wondered if he intended to take me over his knee and if I’d let him.

I’d assumed they’d all get used to me. Apparently I’d assumed incorrectly. I was the beast to my mother’s beauty. The monster to the heroine. When they looked at me, they saw my father.

Her tone was steely and anger all but crackled off her. I hoped she got the guy’s balls in the divorce.

“You know, you’d be a lot prettier if you smiled once in a while,” she mused, fluttering her lashes. No wonder women hated it when men said that.

It was fucking cold. February was right around the corner, and if there was anything colder and damper than January in New York, it was fucking February. Of course, fashion didn’t heed below-freezing temperatures. No. Fashion made its own rules outside of time and space and temperature.

I, on the other hand, didn’t trust myself to survive even basic contact. Ally was only safe, my soul was only safe, as long as I didn’t touch her.

He was looming over me, but rather than threatening, it felt intimate, careful, almost safe. Like I wanted to be exactly here with exactly him.

Tell me the top five things you hate STAT. (This is the secret to finding out just how bad a person is in case you need it for interviewing future wives or human sacrifices.)

Somewhere along the line, she’d started talking to me like we were friends. As if that moment of honesty in the bar, those emails exchanged, had somehow made us friendly. And while I craved her next confession, I also couldn’t handle the intimacy. I was ripped down the middle. Torn between wanting to know everything there was to know about this woman and wanting to forget she existed.

I hated it when she walked away from me. It always felt like she took the light and heat with her. I added that to my Hate List.

Those blue eyes weren’t cold now. There was a victorious fire burning in them. And I was acutely aware that I was in immediate danger.

My heart was trying to blast its way out of my chest. I didn’t know where the organ had gotten actual sticks of dynamite, but that’s what was happening. My insides had turned to lava… or magma, whichever metaphor was most appropriate.

“Lots of people dance for money. Prima ballerinas, Jane Fonda, Laker Girls, back-up dancers, Rockettes. All women who make money by moving their bodies. There’s nothing remotely shameful about it,” Faith insisted. “You aren’t doing anything wrong. And anyone who tells you that you are is—” “Part of the patriarchy.”

I hoped to God security was up to the challenge tonight. Because if anyone laid a hand on her, one single finger on her, I was going to lose my shit.

I wondered if I was leaving a trail of body glitter behind me like I was a Questionable Life Choices Tinkerbell.

If mystery bothered him so much, this son of a bitch—wait, no. His mother was a lovely human being. This alphahole was going to suffer. I’d make sure of it.

I wanted to believe in my bones that he was doing this as some stupid mind game, that he got off on playing puppet master with my life. But deep down, I was worried that it was something much, much worse. Dominic Russo was trying to take care of me.

I was so pathetically happy that she was speaking to me in multisyllabic words I would have let her slap me across the face with the folder.

I walked back into the room feeling like Cinder-freaking-rella. If Cinderella’s fairy godmother had given her a sexy, skin-hugging gown the color of crimson or, as I liked to think of it, Dominic Russo’s crushed heart.

Everyone was hitting the open bar like it was last call, and those little appetizers were doing nothing to soak up the liquor. It was entertaining, but I had a feeling this is how bad things happened at office Christmas parties. Inhibitions lowered, tongues loosened, and shit went down.

Oh, boy. I’d heard rumors of Drunk Dominic. But they hadn’t prepared me for the reality of him. He was adorable… and in no way capable of functioning as creative director right now. I needed to get him home.

Damn it. My shattered broken heart was trying to knit itself back together just so it could fall for him all over again.

I hooked my pinky around his and tried not to fall in love with the idiot when he pressed his lips to our joined fingers.

Nights like these changed lives and were retold as stories for years to come. But I didn’t know what my story would be. Would it be the time the up-and-coming designer made me temporarily semi-famous? Or would it be the night I finally realized my heart belonged to a man I was never going to be with?

Tacos and home renovation supplies with an entrepreneur, a male exotic dancer, and a drag queen on her day off. Just another glamorous day in the life.

I spent the rest of the day on the couch, which delighted Brownie. We watched the entire first season of The Great British Baking Show and then three episodes of Queer Eye. I was inspired to order and to eat an entire sponge cake from the bakery three blocks over and pondered growing a beard. Then I pondered what Ally thought about beards. And the shame spiral began again.

“I’m not hiding this,” Dom said quietly. “I don’t think I could even if you asked me.” Okay, coming from Dominic Russo, maybe that was kind of a swoony thing to say. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was real. These feelings felt real.

“I don’t need to be saved.” Dalessandra and I blinked at each other as the words came out of both our mouths in unison.

I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to take her worries and concerns and problems and solve every last one of them so she could focus all of her attention on me. And Brownie of course. I wasn’t a completely selfish monster.

I didn’t want her drawing lines when I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to redraw them properly. She would live here. She would have anything and everything she needed. No one would ever take advantage of her or lay a hand on her ever again. End of fucking story. I was her Prince Fucking Charming.

“Dom, of course people are going to talk. Trying to avoid being a topic of conversation is a pretty lame way to live life. Sometimes, accepting the discomfort is how good things are earned.”

It was disconcerting to wake up one day and find myself… well. Here. Making plans for two instead of one. Looking forward to sharing things like beds and weekends and closet space. I’d dated before. But I’d never gotten this deep, this fast. I’d never made space in my home for a woman before. Change was happening, and I didn’t know how I felt about it.

Ally didn’t bitch-slap, but Faith did it like it was an Olympic sport and she was a gold medalist.

“Everyone has baggage, Russo. Most of us are just smart enough not to hurl full-sized suitcases at the people we love.”

But sometimes an inch might as well be a mile. And I didn’t know how to cross it. I didn’t know how to ask him for what I needed. Because I didn’t know what I needed.

[drnightstone]

I was tagged by @tsulean ! Take a break from COVID-19 blues and get to know each other. Fill out the below & tag some of your followers ❤

Who are you named after?  My name can be traced back to my great grandpa on my mother’s side, I believe. But my mother would have you know that she merely enjoyed the sound of the name itself and its French meaning of “handsome”, upon choosing it for me. I personally enjoy the original Bretnic meaning of “the Moon.” I’m sure those are enough clues to solve what my true nymic is!

Last time you cried?  Back in the days, I would be a flowing river at the drop of a hat, but alas, life has a way of hardening flesh to stone. I recall exactly it being last November-December, after my biggest (and hopefully last) great fight with my mother. It was something that needed to happen. We are much closer now.

Do you like handwriting?  Overall, I do enjoy typing upon a keyboard. However, I find that getting my thoughts across on paper are much easier, because I can doodle alongside and have a bunch of arrows pointing to other stuff. It must be said that my handwriting is only legible to me and only me.

Favorite meal?  SUSHI!!! Sushi all day, everyday... if mercury poisoning and cash wasn’t too much of an issue. I like all shapes, sizes, and flavours of sushi. It is just simply the best. Favourite fish? It would have to be Toro or Fatty Tuna in English. The flavour and just simply putting it on your tongue and having it melt and...okay we need to move on.

Longest relationship?  3 Months. High School fling. Not the longest, I know, but I have come to realize that a well bonded and loving friendship(s) in my life is what I need more and find more important.

Do you still have tonsils? I sadly do. I would love to rid of them but at this point, it is of no great issue (and I am scared of the idea of an operation, lol).

Would you bungee jump?  I might. With every waking hour of my mortal coil, I grow to be only a better poster child of Nietzsche.

What’s your favorite breakfast? Eggs Benedict. Breakfast of queens, and none can say otherwise. However, not the normal sausage version as I do not eat meat (Pescatarian here!). I prefer the “scandi” version with cream cheese, smoked salmon, onions, and green capers.

Do you untie your laces when taking shoes off?  I am way too lazy to actually tie and untie my shoes. Just treat them as tight lil’ slippers.

Favorite ice cream?  Hmm, I would say, that is has to be Cookie Dough. I love me some Cookie Dough. Every time my grandma would bake, I would scrap the raw dough from the spoons and bowl, and worry not, it was a small amount thus safe (Europeans, do not @ me - raw egg and flour is bad).

What’s the first thing you notice about a person?  Eyes and teeth and then hair. Perhaps smile as well. It makes sense, as we tend to notices faces first.

Football/softball?  I’m not a fan of any sports, ‘fraid to say. But my best friend plays football (soccer) and I gladly watch to support him.

What color pants are you wearing?  Navy blue? If you are referring to American pants. If the British pants, then black.

Last thing you ate?  Seared Salmon with roasted potatoes and a nice lettuce salad with a glass of German Riesling. 

What are you listening to? Currently, nothing, but the last thing as been the Outer Wilds soundtrack. A+ Game. Highly recommend. 

If you were a crayon what color would you be?  It has to be a whimsy and cool Crayola colour name right? Maybe Maximum Yellow or Cosmic Cobalt of White With Confetti Glitter. Tagging @gayowulf , @tea-the-khajiit , and anyone else reading this and would like to give it a go!

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Missing Pieces, part 4

Welcome back. When last you were here, Evain crashed Pam’s birthday and Yova tried to kiss a ghost. Onward.

A few days after we dealt with the Shepherd of Lonely Roads and felt secure in Pam’s daughter not being at any risk, we all managed to stumble into our next bit of trouble. Yova wasn’t there, but I’m going to blame her for it anyway. You see, it all started on the day she was going to take Marigold out to lunch for their first date. Day had been trying to get a private investigator business up and running and was off doing something for that, but Pam, Bella, and I were all extremely interested in what Yova was getting up to. So we decided to spy on her date. Clearly, it was all her fault for going out when nothing was on TV.

Also, around the time I knew she was getting ready to leave for her date, I sent Paisley flying up to Yova’s balcony with a dental dam. She sent Paisley back with an elegantly written scorcher of a note thanking me for my concern about her health and promising to return the favor and I laughed and laughed and laughed and felt my insides burn with the kind of glee that can come only from Satan.

I knew Yova was planning to take Marigold to a classy bistro maybe fifteen minutes’ walk from our apartment building. So beforehand, Pam, Bella, and I showed up and grabbed a table in the corner nearest the door. We were all very subtly wearing giant sunglasses and scarves and hiding behind menus. Amazingly, Yova and Marigold didn’t seem to notice us and were taken to a table more in the back, where Yova immediately started turning on the charm and Marigold was looking delighted at how Yova was sweeping her off her feet.

Unfortunately, that’s about when the trouble started. Bella was the one who first noticed the guy – a man standing across the street, staring very intently at our table. She wasn’t able to place her finger on where she’d seen his face before, but when she pointed him out to us, I had a moment of horrible recollection: the skin tone was slightly different and he didn’t have a mohawk, but otherwise he looked exactly like Buck, one of the loyalists who’d captured us and taken us to Arcadia in the first place.

I was confused for a second, because we should easily have been able to see through his mask to what his mien was. Pam reminded me that it was possible to spend Glamour to hid your mien, which we figured he was doing so he could remain incognito. Our attention was completely distracted from Marigold and Yova and we started trying to figure out what he was doing and why he would be staring at us. We saw him taking down a lot of notes, then shutting his notebook in a huff, stretching, and starting to walk down toward a bus stop.

We sprang into action. I paid the waitress for our drinks and Pam and Bella headed out to intercept him. Pam managed to distract him by talking to him and asking for directions (leaning very heavily on the Minnesota accent), while Bella slipped into invisibility to try and lift his notes. Since Buck was responsible for me getting captured, I decided to hang out on the patio of the bistro and run after him, if need be. Pam was able to keep him awkwardly engaged where he wasn’t able to end the conversation and leave while Bella slipped up behind him to grab his notepad. And continued being the least stealthy Darkling that has ever walked the face of the planet, as she missed and he felt the pull on his bag. He turned and started looking at Bella, who was materializing out of nowhere. Thankfully, as he adjusted his bag, she was able to grab the notebook and run. He took off running in the opposite direction, which is when I sprang into action.

Bella had a lot of people staring at her because she suddenly appeared out of nowhere. As she ran in the opposite direction of Buck, she started screaming, “Student film! Don’t worry! Everything’s fine!” Pam managed to save the day by starting to clap and getting others clapping, even though they were confused. Once Bella found a place to hide, she read through the notes and saw it was mostly a list of places and times. It didn’t take her long to realize they were places she’d specifically been, as well as notes on her preferred forms of transportation. Tucked in the back was an envelope with a red wax seal that had a skull with no eye sockets and a dagger slicing through the side of the skull. (Yeah, real subtle.) After struggling with the seal mightily for a few minutes, she managed to use all her rock-extracting force to get it open. The letter was complete gibberish that she couldn’t make heads or tails of.

In the other direction, I kept hot pursuit of Buck, who was looking really weirded out at me chasing him. He rounded a corner into an alley and I followed him, cornering him. “Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” I asked him. He looked like he wanted to retort something but was at a complete loss for words. I asked if he was Buck and he scoffed, “Well, if you already know it, there’s no point in denying it.” I asked if he recognized me and he squinted at me, saying maybe, but that he couldn’t place me. As he was doing this, I spotted him eyeing a window that had a dim reflection in it. He bit the inside of his cheek, winced, and spat blood in his hand. I realized at the last second what he was about to do and as he jumped forward, reaching out with his hand, I leapt and kicked out the window, shattering it. I have literally never felt more badass in my whole entire life.

“Fuck!” he yelled. “Nah, not right now,” I said. He facepalmed and I told him that he should remember me because of a bark and dried leaf canape. He squinted again and said, “Oh, yeaaaah! You know, that was Aurora’s idea. I thought it was kind of stupid, but it worked!” He swore that he wasn’t working for Scathach anymore, or for any of the Fae. “I’m in new work now, doing surveillance.” But when I asked him who he was working for, he wouldn’t tell me. I decided to take the honey-over-vinegar approach, offering to put in a good word for him with the freehold if he was willing to talk about what he knows. He seemed to consider this for a second, then rejected it, saying that he’d done too much for them to ever take him in.

Pam showed up around this time and I caught her up on what was going on. Faced with the two of us, Buck finally admitted he was working for a group called the Knights of the Widow’s Walk, who aren’t affiliated with the freehold. I asked why they wanted to know about us, and he couldn’t say because the missions weren’t always wordy. He started digging around in his messenger bag and his eyes got wide. After a second, he yelled, “Shit, my envelope! That little goth freak got it!” He looked up at us and told us he’d find us to get it back and stormed off. Pam and I looked at each other with a shrug. As much as we didn’t want to let him go, he at least didn’t seem to be an immediate threat, so we met back up with Bella.

As we were walking down to where Bella ran to, I heard a voice say, “Hey. Hey, you, tall guy. With the pretty lady. I got the good shit,” and a set of pastel-painted fingernails emerged from the shadows, waving the notebook. “Who, me? My mother always told me not to buy anything from disembodied voices,” I said. Bella slipped out of the shadows and showed us the letter. Pam and I looked at it and we quickly realized it was a cypher of some sort, a message where the letters all stand in for another letter. It would take some time to crack, but we would have to do it eventually, so we went back to my apartment to sit down and try to solve it.

As we got home, I saw that Yova’s crappy pickup was in the parking lot, though given how close the bistro was, that wasn’t any guarantee that she and Marigold were there. I woke Paisley up from her nap and asked if she’d be willing to flit up to Yova’s balcony and see if they were there. She gave me the most indignant expression I’ve ever gotten from a gecko and flew over to her box, settling in and closing her eyes. “Paisley. I’ll make you an extra batch of crickers,” I promised. She raised her head slightly, eyeing me. “With extra ground crickets on top, mixed with sea salt?” I asked. She turned her head and settled in, not having anything to do with it. “Paisley. Paisley!” I said. “This is the unkindest cut of all. What have I ever done to you but love you and feed you and clean out your little box?” She flicked her tail dismissively and that was the end of that.

We settled around my table with a bowl of popcorn and some apple cider. I put The Great British Bake Off on in the background and we set to work on trying to crack the cypher. It took us a solid two hours to do so, but we eventually did, getting the following message:

“I am assuming, my knight, that you have successfully captured your quarry. For that I must commend you. Helldivers are a slippery lot, though I trust the manacles I sent along with the first part of this mission made it significantly easier. They should keep our friend from activating her blessing. I do hope you remembered to wear gloves while touching them. It is imperative that you do not speak with the Helldiver on your own. Do not speak with her at all. Your mission is only to capture and keep her until the Larger Threat has been neutralized. Once this has been done, a more seasoned Knight will come to retrieve her. You will know his coming by the phrase, ‘I say three times, your mission is complete.’ You will receive further instructions after the completion of this task. The Courier will meet you at the usual location.”

Bella, understandably enough, was starting to freak out at this and Pam gave her a reassuring hug. After we cracked the code, we looked back through Buck’s notebook to see what we could understand from his notes. We realized that there were specific notes when she was “with the Big Guy” and “not with the Big Guy.” I wondered if it was the creepshow who was trying to distill their essences back in the Goblin Market – it was the two of them who were captured and he did know Bella was a Helldiver from seeing her silver string. I sent Day a text, warning him about it and telling him to get in touch with us when he could.

Bella was definitely shaken, functional but not feeling great. We agreed that she and Pam could stay at my place for the meantime, and she got in touch with Duke Lamington, Mistress Lilly’s second in command, who told her that if she needed to, she could safely stay at a B&B the Spring Court owned. We all agreed that the Courts would want to know about a former loyalist spying on members of the freehold, so I called Stella, who was the most prominent Autumn courtier I’d been in regular contact with. Her voicemail was typically brusque: “You’ve reached Stella. Leave a message, and if it’s important, I’ll return your call.” So I, being the petty bastard I am, decided to leave her a masterclass in passive-aggressive voicemails.

“Hi, Stella, it’s Derek. I don’t know if this is important enough, but we just ran into a former loyalist who’s been watching Bella like a hawk, saying that he works for some group called the Knights of the Widow’s Walk, and I thought the Court would probably want to know about it. Like I said, don’t know if it matters, but if it does, here’s my number so you can call me back. Bye!” About thirty minutes later, I got a call back. When I picked up, before I could even say hello, I just heard her yelling, “COURT HALL NOW,” and disconnecting. I hung up, looked at Pam and Bella, and said, “She thinks it’s important.”

I activated my Mirror Walk contract (after the bathroom mirror incident when I brought the others to the Autumn lodge, I bought a full-length mirror from IKEA for my bedroom) and took Pam and Bella through. This was the first time Bella had been in the Autumn lodge, and she sadly didn’t look too impressed. “I’m glad I didn’t choose Autumn. This doesn’t go with my aesthetic,” she said. Stella was sitting by the giant fireplace in the foyer with ramrod straight posture, and I couldn’t help but notice the other courtiers were giving her a wide berth. She invited us to sit and apologized for her tone on the phone, explaining she was shocked. As we sat, she was staring straight at Bella, causing Bella to squirm. She said, “There’s no nice way of asking this, so I’ll apologize in advance. But if there is anything you have ever said, thought, or communicated that might indicate you are in league with the Gentry, I need to know that now.” Bella told her that she’d never even considered it and when Stella asked me for my opinion, I backed that up.

Stella seemed to relax slightly at that and said, “Then I’ll chalk this up to misinformed prejudice.” She looked at me and said, “As I’m sure you are aware, my – our – court isn’t exactly looking well right now with the incident at the Harvest Fair, so I would appreciate if you handle this matter with some discretion. If the Knights are operating within the freehold, then there is a loyalist somewhere. They believe it’s Bella. You seem to believe it is not and I am willing to risk trusting your judgment this once.” She explained that Helldivers aren’t common outside Arcadia because they’re often spies for the Gentry, easily pulled back by their silver thread. Because we could see that Bella’s thread was broken, we knew she was free from her Keeper, but external eyes might not be able to see that so clearly.

Stella told us that the Knights of the Widow’s Walk are an independent changeling organization dedicated to rooting out and identifying loyalists, so if they were here, then there had to be a loyalist in the freehold. She told us that we really had only three options: either find the loyalist, try to speak with the Knights ourselves, or keep running. She said she was going to conduct her own investigation and asked that we do anything we were interested in subtly. I offered to pass information we found along to her subtly and she excused herself to make the council aware of what was going on.

Pam and Bella decided to sit down by the fire for a minute and figure out what our next move was. I excused myself, telling them I had an important collaborative research matter to attend to. Which I did. It was collaborative and it did involve research. There were a few Autumn courtiers who had requested certain information from me, and I knew that I could pass that information along and it would get to the right ears. I only found one of them, a man whose skin was made of porcelain and who tended to help fix mechanical issues. Nobody I spoke to ever knew his name, he just showed up when things needed fixing.

So I sidled up next to him discreetly and he looked at me. I leaned in and whispered, “Champagne, strawberries, and oysters were all ordered.” He raised his eyebrows and said, “Niiiiice.” Marigold, as it turns out, was the current baby of the Autumn Court (a title I took soon after), and a few of the courtiers wanted to make sure she had a good time. I told him about delivering the dental dam to Yova via Paisley and he offered me a fist to bump. Yay for making friends!

Back at the fireplace, Bella was actually getting serious for probably the first time since we were all captured and taken to Arcadia. She told Pam that she didn’t want to run any more because that was all we did back there. Pam asked her if she wanted to try and find the real loyalist or talk to the Knights and Bella wasn’t sure. Pam suggested that we try to get in contact with the Knights somehow, though she didn’t want to put Bella at risk. I rejoined them and suggested we go back to the bistro and get something to eat while we planned our next move. They both agreed that sounded good, so I activated my contract again and we went back to my apartment before heading out to get a bite to eat.

Yova and Marigold were long gone by the time we arrived, so we had some time to settle in and enjoy our meal. Bella seemed to feel a trifle better afterward, and we returned back to my apartment. As we were walking up to my front door, I couldn’t help but notice some muddy footprints outside my door. I held up a hand for Pam and Bella to stop and pointed to the footprints. I slipped in to see what was going on. The footprints continued through my kitchen and into the carpeted living room, where Buck was lying on the couch (muddy boots on the pillows, of course), in a serious glaring contest with Paisley. She was perched on the coffee table glaring at him and he was glaring straight back at her.

“I see you met my guard gecko,” I said. “Yeah, I did,” he said dryly, turning to look at me. I saw he had a nasty scorch mark on his cheek and I smiled, telling Paisley, “Good girl.” She fluttered over to me and nestled in my feathers. Pam and Bella came in when they didn’t immediately hear a struggle and Buck asked for his letter back. I told him that if he told us what he was keeping an eye on Day and Bella for, he could have the letter.

“Look, all I have is my mission. I was keeping an eye on the big guy because he seems to like you and I didn’t want him between you and me when I went to get you,” he told Bella. Bella told him that she wanted to scratch his face off. He shrugged and made possibly his biggest mistake, calling her a little girl. She immediately grew her claws out and he flinched back. “Look, we all do what we gotta do to survive,” he said. “So what, they’re gonna kidnap me and Day, interrogate us, only to find out there’s nothing going on?!” Bella snapped.

Tempers were starting to flare, so I cleared my throat and offered a suggestion: that Buck pass a note along to his spymaster from us, asking to meet and discuss what was going on. He shrugged and said he couldn’t promise anything, but that he’d pass it along to a courier. I sat down at my dining table with my journal and started writing a note. As I did, I noticed Buck was still leaning with his boots up on my couch. “You know, there was a mat you could’ve wiped your fucking boots on,” I said. “Whatever. It’s not my house,” he said. The note I wrote and gave to him read as follows:

“Dear Sir and/or Madam Spymaster: We’ve recently become aware of your intention to acquire a member of our motley, whom you appear to suspect of some wrongdoing. We are terribly distressed by this and wish to parlay, if possible, with you or a representative at a time and place that is convenient. We would be more than willing to assist in your investigation if you are willing to cease attempting to capture our associate. Please let us know if this is agreeable. All the best, Derek, pledged courtier of the Autumn Court Greater Freehold of Upstate New York”

Buck took the letter and his envelope and reiterated that he couldn’t promise we’d get the response we wanted, but that he would send it along. He took his leave and I got out the carpet cleaner, starting to scrub the mud off the carpet and grumbling about it all the while. Pam helped me get things cleaned up, but as we were doing so, she spotted another envelope none of us had seen before, leaning up against the closet door.

The envelope had another one of the seals of the skull with no eyes and the dagger in it. It wasn’t sealed as sternly as the one Bella had managed to get open earlier, and inside was a single photo. It looked like it had been taken on the shittiest old cell phone camera available and then printed on a printer that was desperately in need of an ink change. Nevertheless, it was unmistakably a picture of Day, slumped against a wall. A neatly written note underneath it read, “Trade?” with a set of coordinates. I managed to sum up what we all were thinking when I said, “Well, shit.”

That’s probably good for now, so I’ll cut it here. Next time, you’ll get to learn exactly how screwy rescue attempts can go. Until then, may your apartments always have linoleum floors.

[betweensceneswriter]

Second Wife-Chapter 14: The Crowded Bed

Second Wife Table of Contents

Second Wife on AO3

Previously -  Chapter 13 : Letters and Lallybroch The Balriggan Frasers take a trip to Lallybroch.

‘I could feel her hand on him,’ she whispered. ‘In our bed. Lying there between us, wi’ her hand on him, so he would stiffen and cry out to her in his sleep. She was a witch. I always knew.’” (Drums of Autumn 479.)

     In the kitchen, Jenny was looking at Laoghaire with a knowing smile.  “Well, Laoghaire,” she said.  “Jamie looks well.  He was like a ghost, roaming the halls here at Hogmanay.  But I was watching as he arrived, and he and Joanie were laughing as they climbed off their horse.  I know Joanie is Simon’s, but she nearly looks like she could be his own.”

     Laoghaire smiled mildly.  She was mixing up the crust for Marsali’s birthday dessert, a rich tart filled with fruit and nuts, and she didn’t want to mis-measure any of her ingredients.  Mrs. Fitz had drilled that into her mind, that’s for certain. 

     When yer baking, lass, ye canna be distracted, Laoghaire could almost hear her gran talking.  Making a stew, dinna fash, you can throw in anything in any order, long as you don’t triple the salt.  But wi’ bakin’, the measurements matter.

     When she’d finished measuring, Laoghaire began pinching together the butter and flour, rubbing the ingredients between her fingers until the butter was evenly worked in, and the crumbly mix was ready for adding cold water.

     When Laoghaire had finished mixing up the crust and was pressing it into a ball to roll out, she realized Jenny was standing, looking at her.

      “Laoghaire,” she said.  “You arna happy.  What is it?”

      “Jamie may not be a ghost anymore, but there’s another spirit haunting our marriage.”

      “I ken we like to joke about the faeries, but are ye speaking of a real ghost?”

      “Feels real enough,” Laoghaire responded, but then at Jenny’s confused silence, she continued.  “She’s been dead and gone for 18 years.”  She dusted the counter top with flour.  “Eighteen years, and yet she’s still here.”

      “She?” queried Jenny. “D’ye mean Claire?”

     Laoghaire winced at the name, and nodded.

      “Then ye’ve seen her, wandering about?”  Jenny’s eyes were wide.  She hadn’t told anyone what she had seen at the wedding, the apparition of a dark-haired woman standing between Laoghaire and Jamie as they made their vows.

      “No,” Laoghaire shook her head as she deliberately began rolling the crust as evenly as possible.  She took pride in never having to re-roll her crusts, which would make them tough.  She shook her head again. “No.” 

      “Then what can ye mean, Laoghaire?”

      “I canna explain it.  It was so many years ago at Leoch that I loved Jamie, and she came between us then.  And she might have died at Culloden, but in Jamie’s heart, she’s still alive.  He cries out for her when he sleeps.  He isna mine.”

      “Does he not…” Jenny hesitated.  “Want ye?”

     Laoghaire looked around for children or eavesdropping servants.  Finding none, she continued, “Well, he did, but it felt so wrong.  I was used to Simon’s ways, and Jamie was touching me as if what he did should please me, like he was waiting for something from me. But it wasna really for me.  It was for someone else’s body.  I dinna ken what he’s waitin’ for, and I canna help but think of her.”

     Jenny frowned thoughtfully.  “Well, having only been wi’ Ian, I canna truly understand what ye are saying.  But I guess it might be like nursin’ someone else’s bairn.  I’ve done it before, to be kind, or when the mother couldna make it back in time for the next feeding.  But it doesna feel quite right.”

     Laoghaire folded the thinly rolled circle of dough into fourths, then gently lifted it into the pan, unfolding it again to line the bottom and sides of the tart tin.

     “’Tis not the only thing in marriage, though,” Jenny said reassuringly.  “Are there some things that are good?” Her brow was wrinkled in concern.  She had been an advocate of the relationship from the beginning, and she felt responsible.

     “Oh, aye,” said Laoghaire.  “We are provided for, and I feel safe.  There is money for meat at the market, and I’ve been able to sew a new dress for each of the girls.  Everything that used to be broken is repaired, and the goats and cows have never produced more milk, nor the chickens more eggs.  Our fields are planted, and it already looks like ‘twill be a good crop.”

     Jenny sighed in relief.  “I’m glad to hear it.  And he’s good with the girls?”

     Laoghaire smiled. “That he is.  Reads to them, prays wi’ them at night.  But I just wish he needed me; that he loved me more.”

      “My brother…is a passionate man.  But he’s a man.  I dinna think he knows how to love without touchin, as well.”

      “The girls like it when he pets them, but it isna something I like.  I’m not a cat.”  Laoghaire said irritably, eyeing the well-fed mouser that had wandered in the open door of the kitchen.

      “Is there anything that might make it easier for ye to come together in the bedroom?”  Jenny didn’t ask in a nosy way, Laoghaire thought.  She asked like a friend or sister who wished to help solve a problem. 

     Again, Laoghaire looked around the kitchen, fearful of eavesdroppers.  “Well, there is one thing,” she answered.  “The last time Jamie took me to bed, I had been thinking about us when we were young.  And my…well…down there…it was wet.  When Jamie came to me, it didna hurt like it always did wi’ Simon and Hugh.  And I wondered if there was a way to make that happen again.  I dinna like it when he puts his hands on my body, though, or touches me there.”

     Jenny’s face lightened with understanding.  “Oh, I ken.  Ye can just use an oil.  If you put it on yerself, or he puts on himself, if ye prefer, it makes it easier.”

     Laoghaire blushed furiously.  “But then, well, when I had Joanie, I tore badly, at the front.  And the scars cause it to hurt.”

     Jenny moved in closer to Laoghaire.  “Now, ye will never tell my brother I said this to ye,” she insisted in a serious whisper.

      “Aye,” Laoghaire agreed, nervously.

      “Ye might…”  Jenny struggled to find her words.  “Ye might try it from behind.”

      “Why?”  Laoghaire exclaimed. “And how?”

      “It presses on your body differently.  It might not hit the scar tissue the same.  And how?”  Jenny flushed furiously.  “Stand on the floor, and lean yer elbows onto yer bed.  He’ll figure it out quickly enough.  He’s grown up watchin’ horses; that’s probably how he thought it should be done from the first.” 

     A bunch of chattering interrupted their conversation, to the great relief of both women, and soon they were surrounded by children begging for “just a wee bite” of the shortbread cookies cooling on the counter.

     They had begun their journey at daybreak, and after the long trip and helping with the baking, Laoghaire was quite weary.  She withdrew to the guest room where Jenny had put her and Jamie;  Marsali and Joan would be sleeping with Kitty and Janet.  As she lay on her bed, snippets of memory came to her, moments that changed the course of her life, moments that tore Jamie away from her.

☆☆☆☆☆

     When the shout first came out that the rents party had returned, Laoghaire was incredibly nervous, but deliriously happy.  Her hands were shaky as she untied her apron and rushed to the dull mirror in the kitchen.  She straightened her hair, tying it back neatly.  She pinched her cheeks to pink them, and then joined the procession of clansmen and women, servants and maids, that were heading toward the hall.  Colum would be greeting the returned travelers, and she would be greeting Jamie.

     When she first saw him, her heart leapt. His hair had grown in the time away.  He looked older, more manly, stood more confidently.  Och, he was gorgeous.  She felt it in the pit of her stomach, that deep longing to have him near her.  She hoped they would be able to slip away again.  Surely after several months, he would be eager to reacquaint himself with her body.  She felt her abdomen involuntarily clench inside at the thought of his body, his lips, and his hands on her.  How long would he wait to ask for her hand?…Why wasn’t he looking for her?

     But then she saw that the Sassenach was holding his arm.  When she heard her grandmother’s voice exclaiming joyfully, “They’re marrit !!” she thought she was going to vomit.  Or faint.  Or both.  The blood had drained from her face, and she was breathing shallowly. 

     That witch.  He had married that witch.

     As people began to understand what it meant, that Jamie had married a Sassenach, a wind of whispers began.  “Jamie canna be laird now!”  “Dougal must be happy, but d’ye see the look on Colum’s face?” “Why’d he marry her?  Didna we think he should be with one of the lasses from the castle?”  “I thought I’d seen him with the bonny blonde-haired lass whose beating he took.”

     Shaking with fury, Laoghaire considered the expressions she saw on three faces.  Colum looked grimly angry.  Jamie was white-faced, particularly when Colum acknowledged Lady Broch Tuarach, but not Laird Broch Tuarach.  And the Sassenach looked bitter and annoyed, as if she couldn’t stand for Jamie to be touching her.

     They weren’t happy, that was obvious.  And she was miserable.  Laoghaire couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing.

     The story circulated quickly enough.  The Sassenach had been captured by Captain Jack Randall, the fierce Redcoat captain whose name was feared the Highlands over, and it sounded like he had beaten her.  Good, thought Laoghaire bitterly.  Because Mistress Beauchamp was an English subject, she could be compelled to turn herself in to the British, and Dougal didn’t want her witnessing against him, so he decided to make her a Scot by having her marry a Scotsman.  It was complex, but at least it explained why Jamie would have done such a thing.

     Her quick conversation with Jamie in the hallway left her with more questions than answers.

     But during the wee hours of the night, she began to form a plan.  And the next day, before she could dissuade herself, she had laced up her corset over her bare skin, pulled her cloak on, and with one last look in the mirror, she headed to the river.  She knew she would find Jamie there.

     But it had all gone wrong.  Laoghaire had run blindly away from the river, sobbing and struggling to pull her cloak over her shoulders.  She was mortified, humiliated, furious, devastated.  That witch got Jamie to make a vow, and he was so noble, he was keeping it, no matter how unhappy he was to be married to that cold English bitch.  No matter how much he wanted her.  She had seen it in his eyes, the way he had looked at her body, had put his hand on her willingly, had caressed her with his long, strong fingers.  Why had he denied himself?  How could he deny his feelings for her?

     She couldn’t go to the castle.  She couldn’t risk seeing the Sassenach, or she’d be likely to commit murder and go to prison, so she turned toward the village and home, blinking away the tears and trying to control her sobs.

      “Lass!”  The voice was deep, husky, and gentle.  “Are ye well, lass?”

     Laoghaire wiped her eyes, one with the back of her hand and the other with the heel of her palm.

      “No,” she answered, not yet able to see clearly.  Before she knew what was happening, she was pulled in to a firm embrace, two long arms wrapping around her.  He was murmuring comforting words to her, and when her shoulders stopped shaking, he took her by the arms and held her away from him to look in her eyes.

      “You!” she said.

      “Jamie Fraser’s lass,” he said, smiling.

      “No,” she said.  “He isna mine.  He…is…married!” She burst into tears, and John Robert put his arm about her again. 

      “Now, now, aonan milis,” he crooned.  “He doesn’t deserve such a beauty.  How can he not see what is right before him?” 

      “It’s that Sassenach witch,” Laoghaire managed to blurt out, burying her cheek in his chest again. He was strong, and warm, and he smelled of woodsmoke and herbs. 

      “Aye, I told ye, he isna good enough for ye.”  John Robert said.  He was beginning to walk with her, one arm around her shoulders, in the direction of her house.

     They were passing the tavern, when John Robert stopped her.  “Wait here,” he said.  “I’d like to buy you some tea, but I dinna want to be surrounded by a crowd.  I’ll rent a private room, and you can rest and have tea like a real lady.”

     Laoghaire stood in the street in front of the tavern as she waited, nervously pulling the edges of her cloak more tightly together.  She knew she should keep walking—her house was only a few blocks beyond the tavern.  But John Robert’s handsome face, the way she felt when he held her, and her dismay over Jamie convinced her to remain anyway.  In the future, she would say that she could see where the road was leading, and Jamie’s rejection hurt her so thoroughly that she chose the path anyway

     “Your parlor awaits,” John Robert said, gallantly offering her his arm.   It did seem somewhat strange that he led her into the alley and up a narrow staircase before they entered the prettily decorated parlor, with a tea table and two chairs, as well as a fainting couch.

     “May I take your cloak?” he asked.  Laoghaire blanched.  But then, eyeing him critically, she gently opened the front of the cloak, exposing her corseted torso.

     John Robert gasped.  “Oh, lass.  Did he refuse you?  In all this beauty?”  With no hesitation, he was in front of her, asking permission with his eyes.

     It was what she had wished for with Jamie.  It began the same way, with John Robert pulling her onto the couch to sit on his lap, kissing and caressing her lips and face, stroking down her back.  When he gently pushed the sides of her cloak off her shoulders and saw her bare neck and bosom he was overcome, pupils dark with desire.

      “Mo chraidhe,” he whispered.  “Aon àlainn, my beautiful one.  Ye are so sweet and lovely.”  Swallowing hard, he had gently undone the laces, gasping when he was finished and she was released from the pressure, and her breasts, full and heavy, were revealed.

     He laid her back against the couch, then, and traced the circles of her nipples with his fingertips, then lips, then tongue.  She was breathless, astounded, overcome with the sensations.  This time, when a hand traveled up her thigh, she did not stop it.  When he parted the hair and dipped his fingers into that place, it stunned her.  It felt like she was floating above her body, the sensation so otherworldly. 

      “Are you a maid, lass?” he had asked.  When Laoghaire nodded yes, he had taken one of the napkins from the table and laid it on the couch beneath her.  He had barely disrobed—just unbuttoning the front of his breeks.  And as he entered her, as he gently took her maidenheid, John Robert continued to whisper words of affection, extolling her beauty, assuring her of his undying admiration.

     Traveling the rest of the way home, she had been floating on air.  Jamie Fraser could go hang.  She was going to be married to John Robert MacLeod, who loved her as none other had.  She felt beautiful, desirable, vindicated, hopeful.

☆☆☆☆☆

John Robert MacLeod, Laoghaire thought bitterly.  John Robert MacLeod, the married man from Killiecrankie.

Chapter 15 : By the Ballocks Jenny’s always been good at putting Jamie in his place.

[ecofinisher]

A New Partnership - Chap 28

Chapter 28

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109937/chapters/67866059

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13681547/28/A-new-partnership

https://www.wattpad.com/987232860-a-new-partnership-lupus-viking

In the afternoon the classes’ lessons were over and major of the students made their way back home as others made their way to other rooms of the school as most had after-school activities.

Yi was with Kagami together in the wardrobe, where Kagami was getting ready for fencing lessons and Yi hang there with her to chat.

“You know everyone in my class has those motivation pictures under their desk, which we can look at it once in a while before an exam. Mr. Hébert says it helps us to be more inspired for it. Making us remember, who we want to make proud, why we want to make it through the exam,”

“And that’s mandatory for you to do it?” Kagami asked bewildered at the conversation with the girl.

“Not exactly, but he said it would be really, really great to do so. He said I could also put a picture of a house or the job of my dreams, but I don’t have a current aspiration for the future,”

“Hmm okay yeah makes sense. Hey, why don’t you just use a picture of your family or friends?” Suggested the Japanese girl. “Or both?”

“I’ve been thinking on that idea,” Yi responded, then behind the girls, Zeynep passed already dressed in her fencing suit to leave the wardrobe, then looked back at the girls with a smirk and left.

“Try it out then. Make it your style or just as the others did. You can always add new images or signs onto it,” Kagami said getting up from the bench picking up her helmet. “I need to go, the lessons are about to start,” Kagami announced waving at the friend, then left along with her the wardrobe, and Kagami went to the middle of the court, where her other group members were waiting.

“Hey everyone,” Kagami greeted, then noticed Mr. D’Argencourt hasn’t arrived yet. “Isn’t Monsieur D’Argencourt here yet?”

“He uh…..had to solve something and would be right back,” Zeynep answered earning a nod from the blue-haired girl.

“We can still practice a little while he’s out there?” Suggested a tan-skinned boy, approaching the Turkish girl. “What do you all think?”

“Good idea, Amir,” A boy said moving further to Amir and all met up leaving Kagami alone, which crossed her arms as she had no partner to go with.

“I’ll wait for my turn then,” Kagami announced and from behind appeared a fully covered fencer and whistled calling the girl’s attention.

“You’ve got there some nice trainers, me lady,” The fencer said making Kagami furrow her eyebrow at his comment.

“Excuse me?” Kagami asked making the student chuckle.

“I beg your pardon. Where are my manners? My name is…...Hisiridoux…..Hisiridoux Williams,” The boy introduced. “You must be Kagami, the quite so brilliant yet tidy lass from the Tsurugis,” The boy said earning a nod from Kagami.

“Yes,”

“Mr…..Sir D’Argencourt sent me here to duel with you, wanting to see my work, you know,” Hisiridoux explained earning a nod from the girl, which walked further to the last field of the court and waited for the boy to arrive.

“So you’re the most talented one from your city, right?” Kagami asked earning a nod from the boy. “Where exactly,”

“L…..Worcestershire,” The boy responded making Kagami smirk.

“Alright…. Hisiridoux…...show me what you got,” Kagami announced dropping her shield down, walking up at the field, while the boy went to the other end.

The two raced against each other smiting their sabers against each other real fast. Kagami quickly made it to own the match and guided Hisiridoux away from her, then he smacked harder with his sword to get out of the situation managing more or less to dominate Kagami, slowly pushing her back to the middle.

“You’re really good, Kagami,” Hisiridoux complimented, then Kagami moved aside and Hisiridoux rushed accidentally forward almost falling on the ground, then he moved his head back to see Kagami about to sting him and he turned around to successfully riposte the attack and tried to take the lead again of the match. Kagami reversed back as the opponent walked against her with his feet almost stepping on hers while she went back, then at the end of the field, Kagami tried to defend herself without stepping out of the field, which got harder for her as she was close to losing her balance.

“You’re giving up?” The male asked, then Kagami groaned pushing Hisiridoux away from her watching him slide on his shoes and she attacked him, copying the previous movement he did on her quicker causing him to trip over his feet landing on the ground.

“Very well, next time I would suggest you to keep your mouth shut. It just distracts you from a possible diversion of your opponent,” Kagami said, then heard some of the fencing group applaud at the match. “Hey come on guys, this wasn’t such a special match. It was just one time we fought,”

“Yet it still wasn’t enough to make you recognize the real person under the mask,” Zeynep said with a chuckle making Kagami wide her eyes confused about what was going on and looked at Hisiridoux taking off his helmet to be revealed to be Adrien Agreste.

“Maybe my effort on trying to sound British was too good,” Adrien mentioned surprising Kagami as it was her very first friend Adrien.

“What are you doing here?” Kagami asked astonished at his appearance.

“I was hoping to be able to attend the fencing tournament here or at least see it and I guess I have a chance to attend it if the fencing master allows. Otherwise, I can be there to cheer for your team,”

“Wow, and your father really allowed you to come to Paris?”

“Aunt Amelie convinced him to let me come. In exchange I have…..stricter observation,” Adrien finished, watching Kagami look around to see nothing, then he pointed up at the top of the building, where a black drone stood with a smartphone attached to it recording the fencing students.

“That’s just insane,” Amir discussed looking up at the roof along with the other students. “But I guess you’re somewhat used to that kind of things,”

“Yeah. The best thing about living in London is that Aunt Amelie isn’t that strict with me and I can finally have more freedom than I used to have here with my father,” Adrien told. “The students there so far are all pretty cool and nice,”

“What about your new girlfriend, man?” Amir asked. “I’ve heard from some students, that you had found there a girl you…..fancy”

“Yeah, Aja is her name,” Adrien responded. “I’m seeing forward to ask her out when the time is right,”

“Cool,”

“Treat her well, Adrien. You’ll be a great boyfriend for her,” Kagami said earning a nod from the blonde, which rolled his eyes down remembering the day he almost had his first kiss with Kagami.

“I’m still sorry about having chickened out our first kiss,” The blonde apologized making Kagami look neutral.

“You don’t have to, Adrien. Just forget that it happened. We’re both now away from each other and a friendship is the only thing, that works as a long-distance relationship,” Kagami mentioned earning a nod from Adrien, then he got slapped on his back jumping in fright and Armand D’Argencourt stood behind him happy to see Adrien.

“Ah great to see you here, boy. What about a show-off from the good old times?” Armand asked. “I miss having you around us,”

“Sure I don’t mind,” Responded the blonde, then all got back to their spots and Adrien walked behind Kagami with a neutral facial expression from seeing Kagami seemed to have already processed the event from their last encounter.

 Jin and Luka sat in the bakery eating croissant. Sabine walked out of the kitchen to fill a shelf with bags, that contained mixed cookies and looked at the two teens enjoying their snack.

“Hey boys, my husband just finished a tableau with lime-flavored madeleines covered with white chocolate. Would you like to be the first ones trying it out?” Sabine suggested watching Luka nod, while Jin was distracted by his food.

“We’d love to,” Luka answered earning a nod from the adult, that finished putting the cookies in the shelf and walked back into the kitchen.

“I wonder how they taste like,” Luka mentioned looking at Jin, which nodded.

“I haven’t managed to taste the regular ones before, though,” Jin pointed out. “What do they usually taste like?”

“Usually lemon so far I know,” Luka responded earning a nod from Jin, then Sabine brought on a small plate two freshly-baked madeleines and placed them in front of the boys.

“It just came out of the over for about two minutes ago. Be careful,” Sabine warned making Luka nod.

“Are you going out tonight somewhere?” Jin questioned making Luka nod.

“Band practice,” Luka responded. “After dinner,”

“Oh okay,” Jin responded. “Just wondering, I’ve been thinking about going to the cinema,”

“Maybe tomorrow we could go, if you want,” Luka responded. “We do our homework first, then head to the cinema,” “Sounds good,” Jin responded.

“You’re feeling down or something?” Luka questioned.

“You know from sitting here I remembered the other night, where Yi kissed me. We were here on her first day and now it’s eating up my mind,”

“Appreciate the current relationship you’ve got with her. It would just get worse if you would peck on it trying to change and it gets worse,” Luka suggested. “If the universe wants you two may get closer than usual. But it takes time. I’m not giving up on Marinette either unless she founds someone else, who makes her happy,”

“Aren’t you afraid to see her with someone else?” Jin asked making Luka shake his head.

“Depends on the person,” Luka affirmed picking up the madeleine to take a bite on it, followed by a noise of enjoyment of the snack. “Mmh,”

“I have never been in a relationship, to be honest, but it hurts to know she’s not interested as she seemed before….if she actually was. I think so far I understood it was just a reflex, which she didn’t expect to happen,”

“And that accident leads you to realize, you’ve got a thing for her too,”

“It seems,” Jin puffed placing his hand under his cheek.

“You teenagers nowadays. Have it so complicated with love,” Sabine mentioned passing beside the raven-haired boy, placing her hand on Jin’s back. “Girls come and go Jin if you and Yi won’t ever be together in the future, there is always someone who would appreciate having you in their life,” Sabine explained. “You seem to be a good-hearted boy, you just need to open up your heart more,”

“Yes I know,” Jin responded, then behind the entrance of the bakery Marinette entered and closed the door behind her, then noticed Luka and Jin sat there.

“Hey boys,” Marinette greeted approaching the counter. “Is everything okay?”

“Jin sort of has a crisis right now,” Luka answered. “How are you doing? I didn’t see you today in the break,”

“Myléne was on the outside showing us the role she practiced for the acting competition. We’ve been there the entire break together helping her out,” Marinette explained.

“Ah cool,”

“It was.....hey maybe you could ask her to play in your video?”

“I could, why not” Luka agreed, the Sabine approached with a few boxes, which Marinette took off the hands and walked to the window making Sabine smile at her help.

“Shall I drop them here?” Marinette asked earning a nod from the mother and Marinette arranged them tidily on the shelf, then looked out of the window to see Adrien leave the school heading to a silver-colored coupè, which drove off making Marinette look normally at the disappearance, then continued to arrange the shelf and rolled her eyes up a little surprised.

“What was that?” Marinette whispered to herself, then Tikki glanced up at her, seeing the owner looking down at her. Marinette moved back at the boys, then saw Luka take out his smartphone as it was vibrating, then he attended it.

“Hey Jule?…...Sure I come earlier home, don’t worry, bye,” Luka finished the call, then took out his wallet and placed on the counter a ten euro bill. “I need to go home, here keep the change,” Luka said getting up to leave the bakery.

“Something weird just happened Luka…..,” Marinette began watching Luka leave quickly without more words, making her bewildered at his sudden behavior, then she leaned on the counter next to Jin.

“Where is he going?” Marinette asked making Jin shrug his shoulders.

“I think Juleka wanted him to get home earlier,” Jin responded. “Must be family business,”

“Okay, but didn’t you find it a little weird how he didn’t answer me, or was it just per coincidence,” “I don’t think he meant to hurt you. It’s probably urgent so he left a little hasty. He didn’t even wait for your mother to cash his payment,” Jin responded.

“I wonder if it’s nothing bad,” Marinette said looking at Jin, which was still disappointed with what happened the past few days, then Marinette placed her arm on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Love issues,” Jin responded. “You probably know how it feels, when the person you like doesn’t feel the same for you. I didn’t really feel something for her in the first place, but now after that kiss, she gave me by mistake I’m not able to forget it,”

“Oh wow, you’re just as troubled as I,” Marinette confessed. “Hey this is now strange, but you probably know, that I had a huge crush on Adrien Agreste, right?” Marinette asked earning a nod from the raven-haired boy. “Listen, just a moment ago I saw Adrien out of the window and I realized….my feelings for him seemed to have vanished. I didn’t felt my heart fall down or jump up at his sight as it used to happen, every time I saw him….If you’re trying to forget her it will take time and hurt you as it is now,” Marinette explained. “Just try to be careful with the akumas. Hawk Moth is most likely to turn you again into Dàgē to make you go behind your crush,”

“I’m careful, I promise,” Jin responded, then took the madeleine from the table to eat it, then Marinette caressed the friend on the back.

“Want another madeleine?” Marinette asked making Jin shrug his shoulder. “Come I give you another one,” Marinette said walking into the kitchen leaving Jin back, which took out his smartphone to check the time and saw a message from Super Snake.

“I’m trying to work on my climbing skills at the construction zone near the highway. If anyone’s interested, check it out,” Super Snake’s message was, then Jin typed down a message and sent it.

“I’ll be there too,” Jin got up and dropped two five euro bills next to Luka’s payment and walked at the door, then noticed Marinette come back. “Hey I’ve placed my payment next to Luka’s, I’m going to take a walk before I do my homework,” Jin explained, then Marinette looked at it and nodded.

“What about your madeleine?” Marinette asked, then Jin walked at the girl to take the pastry.

“Thanks Marinette,” Jin said, then left the room followed by a ring of the doorbell on the top and Tikki flew up in front of her owner.

“Are you curious to know, what’s up with Luka and Juleka?” Tikki asked making Marinette shrug her shoulders.

“I believe it’s family business,” Marinette responded. “I could just send him a message to see what he says?” Marinette suggested. “What do you think?” The kwami nodded, then Marinette took out her smartphone to write down a message.

   On another part of the city, Hydra watched Super Snake climb on his own up the framework. Above her appeared Onyx landing on the middle of the framework shrieking Super Snake at the movements the frames made due to his impact on it.

“Watch it, Onyx!” Super Snake buzzed, then watched Onyx place his hands around the vertical bars beside him and climbed it up there with the red-dressed superhero watching him.

“You have it easy, you’re a cat,” Super Snake said watching Onyx arrive at the top to sit on the roof.

“Sorry, but climbing seems so easy here,” Onyx mentioned, then noticed Hydra was around and waved his hand at the heroine. “Hey!”

“Hi Onyx,” Hydra greeted.

“Come, now it’s your turn,” Super Snake mentioned earning a nod from the superheroine, which jumped at one horizontal bar, then tried to come up on the framework while the two boys watched her. “Good, you’re going well,”

“Whoa!” Hydra cried as the framework shook a little, making Onyx flinch his teeth.

“Don’t worry Hydra, you can do that,” Onyx encouraged the heroine, which nodded and tried to move further on the framework with the two heroes watching her. “You’re already in the middle, keep it up and you’ll be here with us,”

Hydra came closer to the two superheroes, which smiled at her nearly succeeding, then Onyx held out his hand to see if she would take it, but instead, she placed her hands beside it and tried to pull herself up, then lied with her knees on top of the roof and stretched her arms aside to show them she made it.

“Voilà!” Hydra commented watching the two boys clap.

“Very good,” Onyx complimented. “I think practicing a few times here will prepare you for other obstacles like the Eiffel tower, unlike this, most obstacles don’t dance like the frames here,”

“You have to accompany me next time at the tower,” Hydra stated. “Or we continue on something else before we come back to the Eiffel tower,”

“Maybe the radio antenna on the other end of the city?” Onyx suggested. “Yeah, that would be ideal,”

“Good,” Onyx replied, then on the roof in the middle he spotted a stray cat drinking from a puddle, then he smiled and walked towards it, while Hydra watched him, besides Super Snake, which jumped off the building to repeat his task.

“Hey little guy,” Onyx began and went down on his knees holding his hand out at the cat. The cat meowed and looked up at Onyx, then sniffed on his hand and rubbed his head on Onyx’s hand making him smile and move his arm back, afterward the cat moved further and rubbed his head again, but this time on his leg.

“Aww he likes you,” Hydra mentioned watching Onyx grab the cat, which continued to give the cat-themed superhero affection.

“Aww, it purrs,” Onyx pointed out, then Hydra took the spot next to Onyx to pet the animal making Onyx smile knowing Hydra’s interest in animals. Hydra began to tickle the cat on its ear making it purr as Onyx watched her, then pondered about making a conversation. “You’ve got good hands for animals,” Onyx commented making the heroine smile.

“Thanks,” Responded the red-dressed heroine. “I’ve used to be a lot of times at the zoo and I’ve grown to love them,”

“That’s sweet,” Onyx commented watching the cat move away from his arms at the ones of the heroine while purring as she caressed him. Onyx’s staff rang, making him puff as it rang, then he took it out to attend it.

“Onyx dude, we’ve got a big, big problem,” Carapace said making Onyx nod, which sat next to Hydra, which Carapace noticed. “Oh did I interrupt something?”

“Not yet, but what’s going on?” Onyx questioned, then Carapace moved the perspective up at the sky to show a large floating pirate ship.

“That’s going on,” Carapace stated making Onyx wide his eyes in shock at the sight of it.

“Okay, where exactly are you?” Onyx asked, then Super Snake appeared on the roof smiling proud at managing another time to climb the building, the widened his eyes and pointed up in the air, which Onyx noticed and looked back to see the ship far behind over the buildings. “Nevermind, Super Snake found it,”

“Good, see you later,” Carapace said turning the video call off and Onyx got up along with Hydra, which shrieked at the sight of the vehicle.

“Whoa, who got akumatized now?” Hydra asked making Onyx shrug his shoulders.

“Could be anyone from the harbor,” Onyx suggested while Super Snake which observed the ship shut his eyes wide having an idea, who it could be.

“Hey what about the houseboat of the Couffaine family?” Super Snake suggested looking at the two raven-haired superheroes, which glanced at each other.

“Sounds believable,” Onyx responded. “I’ve meet…..this Luka Couffaine before leaving to see his sister or something, but I didn’t think it was something bad,”

“There’s no way for us to get that far up to the ship,” Hydra mentioned. “Well I can, but you two can’t,”

“I need to have that superpower again Carapace gave me the other day,” Onyx mentioned. “Hydra go up there and see what you can do, while I go get myself a powerup from Ladybug,”

“How will you find her?” Super Snake asked.

“I don’t think it will be hard. Everyone will have seen this boat by now,”

“Right….,”

“Okay, go look for Ladybug, I’m going up to the ship,” Hydra mentioned earning a nod from the superheroes, then she turned into wind disappearing around the two.

“Hydra makes me think on the Airbender anime,” Super Snake mentioned making Onyx smile, then he jumped off the building to another house, making his way towards the middle of the city, then encountered from behind the TV1 tower Ladybug jump up in the air to land on a building next to it and Onyx changed direction to meet her up on a shorter building and he landed like a cat on the roof.

“Good evening,” Onyx greeted, then Ladybug approached him with two purple macaroons.

“Great to see you again,” Ladybug said opening her hand, so Onyx could take one of the macarons.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Onyx replied taking the macaron into his mouth, then he got transformed into Space Kitten. “Wasn’t expecting to be inside this suit so soon again,” “I actually like to see you in that suit, to be honest,” Ladybug stated surprising the raven-haired boy.

“You think so?” Onyx asked earning a nod from the superheroine, which felt a little embarrassed at her confidence at the compliment she gave. “Thanks, come I think I know who the persons in this ship are,”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Ladybug watched Onyx take off in his jetpack, making her smile amorously at the hero, then she swallowed the other purple powerup to transform into Astro Bug, then she took off following her partner, which on the way picked up Super Snake to carry him up at the ship.

“Anything new?” Onyx questioned receiving no answer from the redhead. A few minutes later the trio arrived on the ship landing on board of it to encounter Hydra tied up on a pole, while on another one was Luka together with Juleka.

“Hydra got caught!” Super Snake warned as Onyx dropped him off, then landed beside him taking out his staff, then Ladybug leaned her back against the two to watch for potential danger.

“Snake, Onyx, if this is like Captain Hardrock, be aware of flying chains, that may jump out from somewhere to catch you,” Ladybug warned earning a nod from the two partners.

“Ladybug, my mom is akumatized and she did tie us up on her own,” Luka warned. “The ship is not the same as the other one,”

“What is it then?” Onyx asked, then on the top of the ship appeared a Viking in a dark-red tunic and black hessian-made skirt along with a dark-brown helmet with two horns at the side. The front of the helmet had the symbol of a howling wolf painted with black charcoal.

“Ah if that isn’t Ladybug and the rest of the group. What were the names…..Viperion and Cat Noir,” “We’re Super Snake and Onyx,” Super Snake corrected.

“I knew you’re the successors. After all my own son had the role as a snake superhero,” The Viking-themed supervillain admitted. “The Lupus Viking knows that very well,”

“Your son was fighting for the good side,” Onyx mentioned stepping forward as he still wore his spacesuit. “He still would if he could,”

“Mrs. Couffaine, this isn’t the real you on the boat. Hawk Moth akumatized you again,” Super Snake pointed out watching the supervillain pull out a sword from behind her back.

“All this what happened in the past happened just because of Hawk Moth,” Ladybug mentioned. “He’s the one using you against us and other citizens to obtain our miraculouses to use it for bad things. I know sometimes certain people lead others to be a prey to Hawk Moth, depending on the situation those people notice the mistake and apologize, whether they’re guilty about it or not. I myself have led someone to the doom, which caused this big chaos in Paris weeks ago,”

“What do you mean?” Super Snake asked bewildered watching Onyx shake his head.

“It’s not a good time, Super Snake,” Onyx mentioned.

“He needs to know it too,” Ladybug warned. “Super Snake, Chloé got akumatized, because I misused my power to separate Kagami from Adrien. Beforehand when I got her the miraculous, Hawk Moth found our Master, which then got in trouble with him and gave up his duty to save us and the others,”

“Seriously?” Super Snake asked shocked. “You mean….because…..you had a liking for him?”

“Paris was doomed the other day because you saw a lad you liked being around another lass?” Lupus Viking questioned astonished at the heroine’s confession.

“I already know, that’s awful. I’ve heard that about a thousand times and I’m sick and tired of it,” Ladybug puffed throwing her yo-yo against the supervillain, which blocked it with her sword causing it to fly against the ground, then Ladybug pulled it back as Onyx ran with his staff against the supervillain, then leaped to attack her on the top of the second level and quickly got smacked down against the floor by the supervillain.

“Hey!” Super Snake shouted throwing his lyre against the supervillain, which deflected it watching it fly off-board with Super Snake watching it.

“Is that all you got?” Lupus Viking asked, then watched Onyx jump up to attack her and force her to move backward, then Super Snake ran to Luka and Juleka to free them.

“I’m going to assist Onyx!” Ladybug announced using her yo-yo on the pole on the middle of the ship and swung up at the second floor and shrieked as Onyx was thrown in the air and Ladybug caught him with her legs around his head and dropped him over Lupus Viking felt down on the ground.

“Got’ ya!” Onyx announced with a smirk, then Lupus Viking picked her helmet on the horn and hit him on his shield with the other end causing Onyx trip. “Woah!” The Viking-themed supervillain pushed Onyx against Ladybug, which stopped him and growled at the supervillain.

“That’s not, how it’s supposed to work!” Ladybug shouted watching the villain snicker and hold out her hand to the hero, then Ladybug grabbed the staff of Onyx and placed her hand on his helmet to spot a scratch on the helmet. 

“Watch out!” Onyx shouted as Lupis Viking ran with her sword against Ladybug, then Onyx pulled Ladybug down of the second floor and activated his cataclysm, waiting for the villain to show up. But the villain threw her sword up in the air, making Onyx frown as he now couldn’t use it against her and got pushed down off the floor, followed by the villain jumping up to catch the sword.

Ladybug watched Onyx fall, then used her yo-yo to catch the villain by the sword, then she landed on the pole where the sail was attached and tried to push her sword off the yo-yo. Onyx watched the two, then had an idea and took his staff away from Ladybug and jumped up against the supervillain managing to cataclysm the sword off her hands and he grabbed himself on the pole, therefore looked at the supervillain seeing the sword turn into ashes.

“What is that blue shiny thingy?” Onyx asked squinting his eyes to see a small feather fly above the air.

“That’s an amok,” Ladybug mentioned. “This means the fight is not over yet,”

“Oh great, I have already used my cataclysm,” Onyx complained watching Ladybug use her yo-yo to retrieve the feather.

“Quick as long as I can’t untie you from here, have you got any idea, where the akuma could be?” Super Snake asked making the two siblings shrug their shoulders.

“Maybe the anchor?” Luka suggested.

“If that’s the case I will need you to come back with a cataclysm,” Ladybug mentioned. “But we don’t have time for that,”

Juleka moved her head up at the second floor shutting up her eyes in panic, then began to struggle inside the cord, getting Luka’s attention, noticing she was nervous.

“Jule, calm down, everything will be fine,” Luka cheered the girl up, then Super Snake looked up at the second floor and shrieked as he saw Lupus Viking push from the side a cannon making him gulp in fright at the weapon.

“Are you kidding me?” The redhead asked, then Onyx noticed along with Ladybug the canon of the supervillain and glanced at each other.

“The akuma must be there!” Both said together, watching the villain take a cannonball into the cannon.

“I wonder if Hawk Moth studied stories, cause I don’t think Vikings had cannons in their time,” Onyx mentioned earning the attention of the blue-haired heroine.

“Lionesses also don’t walk on their hind legs and talk like humans, yet we encountered one,”

“I don’t think Hawk Moth cares for logic unless they kick our butts,” Onyx stated extending his staff while Ladybug began to spin her yo-yo in front of them to protect themselves from the villain.

“Look Onyx I think this is too much to ask, but try to find a way to lead Lupus away from the cannon,” Ladybug explained, then heard the cannon and got hit along with Onyx, which got thrown to the front of the ship.

“Now!” Ladybug groaned watching Onyx get up to see the supervillain add another ball into the cannon and Onyx ran on his four during the time the villain prepared to shoot another cannonball.

  Super Snake still hasn’t managed to untie the siblings up and groaned, making Luka sigh, then he noticed Onyx jump up with his staff and got thrown down as the ball got shoot out of the cannon.

“Super Snake, leave me and Juleka. Sneak up and try to get my mom away from there,” Luka asked seeing his successor look at Onyx getting up while Lupus Viking walked back to get another ball from a shelf behind the driver wheel.

“I’ll be sneaking carefully,” Super Snake responded and walked behind the pole and sneaked forward watching Onyx race back at Ladybug, then return racing against the flying cannonball and got touched by it on the staff, still making him fall on his back.

“Try again Onyx, you can do that,” Ladybug cheered beginning to worry as his time was running up. Ladybug watched Onyx got back and watch the villain load another ball into the cannon and Ladybug stopped spinning it to warn the partner about her next step. “I’m going to activate the lucky charm. I’ll be okay,” Ladybug advised before throwing up her yo-yo to activate her special power,” “Lucky charm!” Ladybug shouted watching her special object appear, making her wide her eyes as something heavier appeared and landed on her arms. “Oooooff!” Complained the heroine, then she took a look at it to see what it was. “Noz? What is Noz?”

“That’s nitrous oxide,” Luka said loud. “In racing movies, drivers use it to be faster,”

“Okay, how is this supposed to help me out?” Ladybug questioned herself watching Onyx jump up in the air to block the ball, but ended up falling down again with it. Lupus Viking laughed, then walked back to take two cannonballs, then rolled them at the cannon and went back to take the third one.

  In the meanwhile, Super Snake reached the stairs and went down on the ground and crawled it up slowly to spot the villain filling the ball into the cannon and press a button to launch her cannonball against Onyx, which this time failed to use his staff on it and got hit on his head knocking him against Ladybug shrieking her.

“Onyx!” Ladybug cried seeing him lie in front of her feet, then she went down to check on him, seeing him slowly open his eyes.

“Without the cataclysm, it’s impossible to beat her weapon,” Onyx stated making Ladybug sad.

“Ladybug, watch out!” Luka shouted as Lupus Viking released another ball, making Hydra frown as Ladybug and Onyx were now in danger.

“Water dragon!” Hydra shouted turning into water to release herself from the chain, flowing over the ground to the two superheroes to build up a wall in front of them caught the attention of Ladybug, which pulled Onyx away and watched the ball break the water.

“Well done,” Onyx complimented quiet, while Ladybug helped him sat up afterward the bug-themed superheroine observed Hydra turn back into her physical self and had an idea, what she could do with her mysterious object.

“Hydra, I need you for my plan,” Ladybug mentioned getting up from the ground, then looked at the second floor to see Super Snake jump at the back of the supervillain making her lose the ball, which rolled away. “Handle quick you two,”

“What?” Questioned the raven-haired hero seeing Ladybug hand him out the bottle.

“Hide it in the cannon and Hydra, I’m not sure if this works, but I need you to use your lighting power to light this up to blow it up. Do you think this won’t cause you any damage?” Ladybug asked making Onyx swallow hard at the comment.

“I don’t think while I’m an element I have any chance to die,” Hydra commented earning a nod from Ladybug.

“But you don’t have to do that, if you don’t want to,” Onyx warned making Hydra smile.

“We’re superheroes. Sometimes we have to take risks,” Hydra stated making Onyx smile a little, then Ladybug’s yo-yo rang and the girl attended the video call to see Carapace sitting in the inside of a helicopter.

“Hey Ladybug take a look at the back of the ship,” Carapace said watching the heroine turn her head back to see only the ship’s back.

“I see nothing,” Ladybug commented, then Carapace smiled embarrassed and turned his perspective to the outside of the helicopter to show from afar the ship, the heroes were in. “Great, that you’re here. Wait there I need you to get here and use your shell-ter, get ready!” Ladybug announced turning the call off, then she took off flying away and Onyx looked along with Hydra to see Super Snake having a fistfight with the villain on the deck.

“We better get closer,” Hydra said running forward along with Onyx, then stopped under the cannon and looked at each other.

“B….be careful, Hydra,” Onyx warned tensed about her job, making the girl smile at Onyx’s welfare towards her.

“I’m coming back, I promise,” Hydra commented tapping the tall superhero on the helmet making him smile.

“Promise?” Onyx asked making Hydra chuckle, which grabbed the superhero by the hand.

“I promise,” Hydra commented, then Carapace fell off the sky and Ladybug landed on the deck of the ship and pointed at the cannon earning a nod from Hydra.

“Come on, Onyx!” Hydra shouted watching the cat-themed superhero jump up at the cannon while moving on the handle on its end, then threw it into the canon and Ladybug pulled Onyx back with her yo-yo and caught him in her arms. “Lighting dragon!” Hydra shouted turning into lighting entering into the canon as Ladybug used this opportunity to push Super Snake and Lupus Viking down to her. Carapace pushed gently the friends back, afterward held his shield in front of them to activate his special power.

“Shell-ter!” Carapace shouted building a forcefield around the group watching the lighting inside the cannon begin to fume, which leads the cannon to explode breaking half of the deck of the second floor.

“Hydra!” Onyx shouted in shock making Ladybug wide her eyes at the explosion. Seconds later their forcefield was hit by a ray of lighting, which ricochets, heading down back to the city.

Carapace dropped his shield, then watched Onyx ran at the front of the ship and began to laugh excitedly.

“She’s alive!” Onyx shouted. “She really did it!” Onyx celebrated making Carapace smile and look at Ladybug, which was also relieved about seeing the newbie had survived. Super Snake ran to see it, then encountered Hydra on the top of a radio antenna waving up at Onyx, which gave the superheroine one small applause.

“Wow, she’s really amazing,” Super Snake commented watching Onyx nod and look back at Ladybug, which used her yo-yo to catch the akuma.

“I can’t believe it we just pulled that off,” Onyx confessed earning a nod from the snake-themed superhero. “I’m going to get her,” Onyx announced taking off to approach the radio antenna, where Hydra stood and he hugged her tightly.

“I told you, I would make it out,” Hydra stated with a chuckle as she was embraced by the tall hero. Onyx’s miraculous began to beep, making Onyx wide his eyes, then he took his arms off Hydra and transformed back into Jin, making Yi wide her eyes in surprise.

“Jin?” Hydra asked making Jin grin a little abashed.

“Probably not the person you expected under this mask,” Jin answered scratching the back of his neck. “I need to get out of her, Ladybug may get angry at me for this incident,”

“I don’t think she will. It was an accident after all,”

“Yeah, it was. You know when she recruited me, she said we weren’t allowed to know each other’s identities,” Jin explained. “That’s why I’m talking,”

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t have to know. We just pretend to be like we were before,” Hydra suggested making Jin nod.

“Sure, sounds fine,” Jin agreed making Hydra smile, then Jin hugged her again. “Thank goodness, you’re alive,” Jin whispered into her ear making Hydra smile warm at hearing his voice near to her ear.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” A voice shouted then the two looked up to see the ship disappear in rose smoke and travel across the city back at the Seine dropping the Couffaine houseboat on the river with the remaining superheroes.

“You need to go there. They need to see, that you’re alright” Jin mentioned earning a nod from Hydra.

“Will you come?” Hydra asked, then Jin looked around his pockets, then shook his head.

“Sorry, I don’t have any cheese for my kwami,” Jin rejected earning a nod from Hydra, which smiled and placed her hands on Jin’s shoulders to peck him on his cheek, making him turn red. Hydra walked to the ladder on the end of the veranda of the antenna with Jin watching her walk away, then he widened his eyes and ran behind the superheroine.

“Yi! Wait!” Jin called the heroine by her civilian name, then Hydra looked back, which stopped in front of her making her left her right eyebrow.

“Did you forget something?” The dragon-themed superheroine asked making Jin shake his head, seconds later he nodded making Hydra confused.

“I wanted to do this,” Jin said placing his hand under Hydra’s chin, leaning his face to hers meeting his lips with hers. Jin shut his eyes open as he actually kissed the superheroine, then closed it again shoving his arms gently under hers to lead followed by the dragon-themed holder place her hands under his elbows enjoying their very first kiss.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Interconnect (ao3 link) - Chapter 6 Fandom: Flash, DC Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart

Summary: Fate has decided that Leonard Snart and Mick Rory are soulmates.

Yeah, okay, they’re good with that.

(for @coldwaveweek2017)

A/N: Instead of doing different fics for coldwave week, I decided to do one with multiple chapters, each based on the various days.

Chapter 6: Jealousy/Protectiveness

—————————————————————————————–

"How do you plead?" the court asks.

Mick glances at his lawyer, who nods.

"Not guilty, your Honor," Mick says. "By reason of curse."

He tries to sit down - his job's done at this point, unless the judge has any specific questions for him today - but the prosecutor, who'd been standing there looking smug, is squawking and the judge looks interested.

"Explain," the judge says.

"Your Honor," Mick's lawyer says, "the prosecution is correct that my client has a history of violence - specifically arson - and that the facts clearly show that he committed the actual act of murder here, but in the present instance, we're arguing that he couldn't help himself by reason of curse."

"There is no legal basis -" the prosecutor starts hotly, but the judge holds up a hand.

"What curse?"

"Soulmates, your Honor," Mick's lawyer says. "The individual in question was abusing my client's soulmate, causing him to react with excess violence."

"Soulmates," the judge echoes, frowning.

"There is some precedent, your Honor, albeit quite old," Mick's lawyer says. That's understating it - the cases they're submitting are over a hundred years old at least. "We'll be submitting them with our papers."

The judge is frowning, but he's also looking thoughtful. "Soulmates," he says again. "And his condition is certified?"

"Yes, your Honor. The certification was stamped and notarized by the hospital witch consultant that originally recognized the disorder upon his admission at age eleven -"

"How long ago was that?" the prosecutor snipes.

"- and again by the local hospital witch," Mick's lawyer continues, ignoring him, though he does add pointedly, "just last week."

Mick's moderately pleased that the restrictions on witchcraft in medical care have at least been lifted again, at least enough for the certification. Though getting and giving fortunes (and spells and curses) is still quasi-illegal...

"I'll accept it for now," the judge decides. "My sympathies to Mr. Rory. Is there anything else?"

"No, your Honor," both the prosecutor and Mick's lawyer say in unison, both rising to their feet for a moment to do so.

"Dismissed, then. I'll see you again in -" He checks his calendar. "Two weeks. Does 10:30 work for you?"

Again, a chorus of consent.

Mick walks out the side door, back to prison, but it's not long until his lawyer's scurrying out to see him. "Spoke with the prosecutor," he reports. "I think they'll give us a very favorable plea bargain, just to avoid the risk of creating new precedent that could be used by other cursed."

Mick nods. That'd been the plan all along. "And I won't have to testify?"

"For some reason," his lawyer, a very earnest Indian man named Rakesh Narayanan with a surprising capacity for subtle sarcasm, says, "I wasn't planning on letting you. Unless your position has changed from 'the bastard deserved it'?"

"Nope."

"Then no. Unless you insist - and it is ultimately up to you, I'm just your lawyer - no testifying."

"Probably for the best."

His lawyer rolls his eyes. "Tell Lenny to tell Lisa I said hi," he says. He'd been a friend of hers in school; he was pretty new at this whole defense lawyer business. "And - would it be wrong to say 'congratulations on your bereavement'?"

Mick smiles. "I'll pass it along," he promises.

He does, sitting in the van taking him back to Iron Heights.

"You're a dick," his handcuffs tell him, but Len doesn't sound displeased. "You didn't have to take the fall, you know."

"I've got a good defense," Mick points out. "And people get twitchy around people who kill members of their own family, even if it is their horribly abusive dads."

"Still..."

Mick feels a fond smile come on involuntarily. "You're mine, Lenny," he reminds him. "If I don't take care of you, who will?"

Len grumbles but agrees.

"Oh, and Len?"

"Yeah?"

"Congrats on your bereavement."

Len starts laughing. A little hysterically, but it's fine; Barry and the rest of the STAR Labs team is keeping a close eye on him while Mick gets prosecuted in his place. He's getting lots of therapy, which is good - after all, he's the one who killed Lewis, in the end, in order to protect Lisa.

Mick's just the one who burned the body.

It’s not the first or last thing he’d do for Len, taking this on his shoulders, and every time he does –

He’s proud.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You know I don’t like to talk feelings often,” Len says. “But lately, I find myself compelled to discuss ‘em.”

Mick, who’d been getting out of the shower and is still only clad in a towel, freezes up and stares at Len, bug-eyed.

“Feelings,” Len says meaningfully. “Recent ones.”

“Uh,” Mick says.

“Specifically,” Len continues, “I’ve noticed that I’ve started feeling – jealous.”

“Jealous?”

Len nods.

“Of what?”

“We agreed a long time ago that jealousy was probably an undeniable part of our –” Yeah, no, Len can’t manage to say ‘relationship’. “– of what we’ve got going on. After all, we never got a chance to choose each other. We just – are. So, sometimes jealousy’s gonna be a factor.”

Mick nods, very cautiously.

“And it ain’t like it hasn’t happened before. You remember – there was that whole thing with what’s his name, Trevor?”

“Oh, right,” Mick says. “The asshole who kept creeping on you behind your back and I thought he was stalking you so I got in his face and started following him to make him stop, except then you thought I was into the guy and flipped your shit?”

“I did not,” Len says with great dignity, ��flip my shit.”

“You kneecapped him.”

“He deserved it. He deliberately sabotaged the job.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know it at the time. You just took credit later because it made you seem like a genius.”

Len shrugs. Mick’s not wrong. “We’re getting away from the point,” he says.

“And the point is – jealousy,” Mick says. “Uh. Are we kneecapping someone today, boss?”

He’s clearly running through every single person he’s interacted with in the last month and coming up empty.

“No,” Len says. “We’re older and wiser than we were during the Trevor incident –”

“That was only three years ago, boss. It hasn’t been that long.”

“Regardless,” Len stresses. “I thought it’d be better to talk about it. Like the reasonable adults we are.”

Mick looks horrified. “Are you sure we can’t go with the kneecapping?” he asks hopefully.

“Not in this case.”

“If it’s because it’s me you’re mad at, we could fight it out,” Mick offers. “I’d let you beat me up.”

“I’ll have you know that if I wanted to, I could beat you up without you letting me.”

“You just keep telling yourself that,” Mick says comfortingly. “But – really – does it have to be talking? About feelings?”

“I’m afraid so, Mick. This can’t be solved by anything less than that.”

Mick gulps but squares his shoulders grimly. “Okay,” he says. “Hit me.”

“Recently, I’ve been feeling that you’ve been focused on – other things. Other than me. Now, I’m not saying I’m high maintenance –”

“You are the most high maintenance,” Mick mumbles.

“Shut up, I’m talking here. I don’t need you to pay attention to me all the time. Hell, I’d probably punch you in the face if you did.”

Mick’s face is disbelieving, but Len glares at him and he nods in consent. Not agreement. Len knows the difference.

“That being said, I sometimes get jealous if I feel like you’re spending more time away from me than with me,” Len says. “If I see you putting all your focus somewhere else.”

“Do I get a name at any point here?” Mick asks.

“I’m getting there. I just want you to understand how I feel about your recent obsession, that’s all.”

“Wait,” Mick says. “Is this about the cooking class?”

“You spend all your time thinking up new things for it!” Len protests. “You’re always on the phone with your students, or with your co-workers, or trying new recipes – you’re even trying out for that stupid reality TV cooking show –”

“For the love of – that was a joke! The Great British Bake Off only takes Brits!”

“Either way, I barely see you, and –”

“You massive, massive hypocrite,” Mick says, gaping starting to turn into a grin. “You, who spends literally days on job planning? Who I have to literally pick up to take you away from your blueprints? Who I’ve had to sit on to get to go to sleep so you wouldn’t die?”

“You can go more than three days without sleep before you die,” Len grumbles. He’d never believed that study about it causing hallucinations, anyway. “I know you can. Besides, that’s our livelihood. Not some hobby.”

“My point remains: hypocrite.”

“I am not. That’s normal for me. This isn’t.”

“Awwwww, it’s okay,” Mick simpers at him. “I still love you more than my cooking class.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Len says primly.

Naturally, that’s when Mick’s eyes narrow. “And you wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t have an ulterior motive.”

Len widens his eyes innocently.

“Okay, now I’m worried. What’s your play here?”

“I can’t just want some assurances of your feelings?”

“No. Spill.”

Len resists for a few moments, but a glaring, grinning, mostly naked Mick is hard to resist.

Also, Len loves bragging about his ridiculous ideas.

“So, you know that joke you made about the reality TV show?” Len asks.

“…yeah?”

“Let’s say theoretically they were filming one in Central –”

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard the pitch.”

“No!”

“Superheroes and Supervillains,” Len says with glee.

Mick hesitates. “Do any of them even know how to bake?” he asks suspiciously.

“Harley,” Len replies promptly. “But Ivy’s nagging on her about salad. But seriously, think about it – the best of the worst. All the assholes we have to deal with. Baking. Scarlet even promised to make a appearances to help eat it all.”

Mick scowls at him.

“I’m getting Mardon to compete and made him promise he’d try to fry an egg with a lightning strike.”

“Okay, fine,” Mick groans. “I give in. I’ll listen to the pitch. But I’m warning you, I am not agreeing!”

“Of course not,” Len says soothingly. “Now, as I was saying…”

He knew that softening Mick up first would work.

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'Am I OK with my son oinking in Swedish?'

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'Am I OK with my son oinking in Swedish?'

Keith Moore is bringing up his Swedish-born son to be bilingual – but the language barrier in the farmyard is one he wasn’t prepared for.

In times of triumph and tragedy it’s always a good idea to turn to your oldest friends.

It was only right, then, that a couple of weeks after my first child was born I introduced him to someone who taught me a lot.

I’m talking about that jovial farmer who still resides in the back of my brain, Old MacDonald.

You know: “Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O.” That Old MacDonald.

My son was born in Sweden. My wife is Swedish. I’m English. We want him to speak both languages.

Image caption Keith Moore with his wife Emmelie and their son

More than half of Europeans speak more than one language, and 90% of Swedes do – with English by far the most popular second language.

I’m still surprised sometimes when I switch on the TV at the range of British programmes broadcast here with subtitles, from Broadchurch and The Great British Bake Off to Emmerdale and the Antiques Roadshow.

Emmelie, my wife, is particularly keen for my son to speak English with an English accent – ideally like Oliver Twist transported to Stockholm. Oliver Twistsson, perhaps?

Of course, lots of people learn a second language as teenagers or adults. But many learn as babies too – either because the parents speak different languages or because they have moved to a country where the language is different.

Apparently, parents once feared that teaching a child two languages from birth would confuse them and stop them learning either language properly.

Nowadays, being bilingual is thought to have a lot of benefits.

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There has been lots of research on this, showing that speaking several languages can improve your brain’s plasticity, its ability to process new problems, and reduce the risks of dementia.

So, based on what we read and friends we spoke to, we opted for the one-parent-one-language approach. That means my wife speaks Swedish to our son and I speak English.

Which brings me back to Old MacDonald… and his Swedish cousin.

I was lazing on the sofa one Sunday in a new-baby haze, when I heard that familiar tune drifting in from the bedroom – but with different words.

“Per Olsson han hade en bonnagård, lian, lian, lej.”

“Per Olsson? Huh,” I thought to myself. “Not sure I’d trust him driving a tractor ahead of Old MacDonald.”

But anyway, it continued and before long I heard the Swedish word for pig – “gris”.

Followed by: “Med ett nöff-nöff här, och ett nöff-nöff där.”

That’s when I poked my head into the bedroom.

“A nöff-nöff?”

“Yes, a nöff-nöff,” came the reply.

Are you sure you don’t mean “oink, oink”?

“I’m sure.”

“How about a dog?”

“Vov-vov.”

And a horse?

“Gnägg-gnägg.”

But they aren’t the sounds they make, I said. A dog woofs and a horse neighs.

Apparently not to a Swede.

And not in lots of other languages either, I later learned. In fact, the words used to describe animal sounds varied far more than I could ever have imagined.

To a Japanese speaker, I read, the sound a bee makes is not “buzz buzz” but “boon boon”.

When they’re faced with questions like whether the pig in front of them “oink-oinks” or “nöff-nöffs”, it seems less surprising that children brought up to be bilingual have superior problem-solving skills.

But on our first day trip to a farm, I think we will go easy on ourselves and take our son to visit a dairy farm.

Because for both Old MacDonald and Per Olsson, the cows go “moo”. Well, the Swedish spell it “mu”, but it’s basically pronounced the same.

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