#so I may not have time for a snooker game

[sportsallover]

To be updated again tomorrow (or Friday) if I get back to it. (This is looking very likely.)

Terminology update: I have actually figured out that the white ball is called the cue ball and that the holes are either the cushions (not completely sure here, it could just be the sides of the table) or… something else that I have actually already forgotten. 🙈

[innuendostudios]

New video essay! On the Reverse Gish Gallop - how conservatives can ignore 90% of your argument and still appear to be winning.

If you would like more of this, subscribe to Nebula and/or back me on Patreon!

Transcript below the cut.

Say, for the sake of argument, you’re watching a political debate on TV. The conservative candidate has used their opening arguments to dump a truckload of dubious claims on their opponent. You recognize this maneuver: that’s the Gish Gallop! The debater makes point after dubious point, and, if the other debater doesn’t rebut every single one, they will appear to have lost the argument. These points don’t have to be good or hard to disprove, there just has to be a lot of them.

Oh, but what’s this? The liberal candidate seems to have come prepared! That’s new! They succinctly and efficiently dismantle each of their opponent’s arguments, offering a clear rebuttal to every single one. It’s obviously not the first time they’ve heard this particular gallop. So, the conservative’s petard has just fully hoisted them. [“What a hoisting!”] They’ve just lost their own game and have to go on the defensive… right?

Turns out, no! The conservative points to a minor error - maybe the liberal said their program would cost $40 million but is actually estimated to cost 43 - and treats them as an ignorant sap who can’t even count correctly. That is now the subject, everything else has been forgotten, and the liberal is backpedaling.

Wait, you exclaim, how does that work?! The liberal has to rebut each and every point but the conservative takes issue with one and stays in the driver’s seat? Are audiences fooled by this? Are liberals that easily snookered? The answer may shock you!

You’ve just borne witness to The Reverse Gish Gallop, where an entire argument falls apart if any of it can be disputed. These disputes, again, don’t have to be good, they just have to call the airtightness of the argument into question.

A good example is how conservatives obsess over gaffes. (Which, fuckin’... really guys?? [W, Trump]) Some Democrat will be all “conservatives want to shut down post offices as a form of vote suppression; they’re pushing voter ID laws and the post office is where many people get IDs; also we are relying more and more heavily on mail-in voting; they overwhelmingly try to shut down offices in Black and Latine neighborhoods; a lot of services like healthcare and courts still use physical mail by default and there can be serious consequences to getting it late; many elderly people still don’t use email, and, hey, maybe some of them like getting junk mail” “AH BA BA BA THAT’S IT THAT’S YOUR WHOLE LIFE NOW FOR THE REST OF YOUR CAREER YOU’RE THE ASSHOLE WHO SAID OLD PEOPLE LIKE JUNK MAIL.”

Your mistake was assuming that dishonest people abide by the same rules they impose on everyone else. When I was a teenager, some friends of the family would invite me along when they asked my parents to dinner, because I would play with their five-year-old and let the grown-ups chat in peace. And he’d make up games where we’d bat a balloon back and forth or whatever, and change the rules on the fly when it suited him. Because the rule wasn’t actually “you can only touch the balloon once per turn;” the rule was “Andrew wins.”

The purpose of a Gish Gallop is to establish a narrative not through argument or logic but force and volume. Once established, it takes a lot less effort for them to maintain than for you to establish a new one. If they shake confidence in your argument, the audience will often revert to the previous argument, whether or not that one was ever proven. It’s a not about which story is true, it’s about who sets the parameters for all stories going forward; who got there first. This is not a debate; this is a Zerg Rush. Understand: a dishonest argument is Lego - you haven’t dismantled it until every brick is separated. But an honest rebuttal? An honest rebuttal is Jenga.

[coochiequeens]

Yet another case for SheWon.com. Not just any case, one where a grown ass white dude was allowed to compete against an 11 year old girl of color in the name of inclusiveness.

By Amy Hamm February 22, 2024

A trans-identified male is set to compete against women as the reigning Women’s Snooker Champion at the English Women’s Snooker Championship on May 24 in Walsall, UK. Jamie Hunter, 27, became the top women’s player following a semifinal victory against a young girl last year.

Hunter first rose to prominence during the English Women’s Snooker Champion finals in 2023 after he came out victorious against Mary Talbot-Deegan, finishing 3-1. Hunter had managed to make it to the finals after he beat out Ellise Scott, an 11-year-old rising star in the snooker world, taking 2-0 against her in the semifinal grouping. The event had been Scott’s debut in the tournament, and, prior to her match against Hunter, she had achieved three match victories against experienced female opponents.

Hunter had been participating in women’s cue sports since 2021, just one year after he “came out” as transgender.

Prior to transitioning, Hunter played in a mixed-sex amateur league for five years. Speaking with Snooker Zone in 2021, Hunter admitted that he had no intention of competing professionally until he discovered that there was a women’s tour.

“Until this year, cue sports was just a hobby, something I done once, maybe twice a week, but now finding out about the Women’s snooker tour, I believe that will change,” he said at the time. “They make out as if I played snooker as a man, I was rubbish, so decided to do it in the women’s instead. I changed my gender for my wellbeing and my life, not for anything else.”

Hunter received significant backlash after his 2022 US Women’s Open win, when former women’s world champion Maria Catalano criticized the policies enabling males to compete against females. In an interview with The Sportsman, Catalano argued that women’s snooker should exclude males from female categories, as some rugby leagues have, to ensure fairness for women. 

“We have fought so hard for our rights in the past – myself, Reanne Evans and others got people to write letters to allow us to play in leagues and clubs that banned women. I don’t believe that women can compete against men on a level playing field in sport. We are wired differently, we think differently. We are mentally different,” said Catalano. 

The World Professional Billiards and Snooker Association (WPBSA) publishes a mixed sex international ranking of players. The highest-ranking female on their current list, Mink Nutcharut, is listed at 119.

In response to the criticism of his wins against women, Hunter has framed the backlash as transphobia.

“Everybody’s human. Regardless of what choices you make. You should treat everybody with respect,” said Hunter speaking to a BBC journalist last fall. Bizarrely, Hunter was interviewed while he sat in a gaming chair in a dark bedroom — which he refers to as “the dark girl cave.” The room has a transgender pride flag pinned up on the wall behind him.

The upcoming English Women’s Snooker Championship is set for May 24, 2024. It is being organized by the English Partnership for Snooker and Billiards (EPSB), which is the national governing body for the sport in England. They describe their goal as creating a “structured coaching environment that will inspire all regardless of gender, ability, or ethnicity to fulfil their potential in our sport.” 

The EPSB has a diversity, equity, and inclusion policy with a lengthy section on discrimination, including a ban on any “condition, rule or practice [that]… particularly disadvantages people who share a protected characteristic.” As for their list of protected characteristics, the EPSB includes “gender, gender identity, marital status, sexual orientation, race, colour, nationality, religion, age, disability, HIV positivity, working pattern, caring responsibilities, trade union activity or political beliefs.”  

The English Women’s Championship is set to take place at the Landywood Snooker Club in Walsall, UK, on May 24.

This is not the first time a male has dominated women’s cue sports, sparking backlash from players and fans.

Last November, a female pool player refused to compete against a trans-identified male opponent at a women’s championship in Wales. Lynne Pinches received an outpouring of support as video began to circulate showing her walking away from the table after being matched to play against Chris Haynes.

Days later, two more female pool players refused to compete against Haynes in solidarity with Pinches during the Ultimate Pool tournament in Blackpool, UK.

In January, Pinches headed an effort to launch a lawsuit against the World Eightball Pool Federation (WEPF) and Ultimate Pool Group (UPG), accusing the governing bodies of subjecting women “to direct sex discrimination and harassment on the grounds of sex.”

What does he have to gain from this?

ENTRY FEES AND PRIZE MONEY

Entry: £30

Winner: £200 

Runner-Up: £100 

Semi-Finalists: £50

[chronicleofleo]

吴磊 奔向旷野 | Cover Story L'Official Hommes

In Nothing But You, Wu Lei who portrays Song Sanchuan, once expressed that tennis is a romantic sport, intricately entwined with the four seasons and weather; so as the wind, sunshine, rain, and snow where each game embodies a unique encounter. As an actor, he experiences the beauty of various seasons while filming: from the vibrant flowers of winter to the delicate snowflakes of summer. Although the seasons may be fictional in the productions, the emotions and moments of each character are genuine and irreplaceable.

Having embarked on his career at the age of 5, Wu Lei has always aspired to become an intelligent actor. He has mentioned in interviews that being referred to as a new actor is a great thing because newcomers carry such enthusiasm and yearning for this profession. After many years in the industry, he dreads the possibility of becoming complacent in his career and, more importantly, developing detrimental acting habits as habits tend to become deeply ingrained over time and make change arduous.

Therefore, he approaches every performance with a fresh perspective and leaves the past behind. As an actor who reflects on the pursuit of wisdom and has dedicated himself unwaveringly for two decades in the acting industry, his love for art and sincerity shine even more brilliantly.

Wu Lei enjoys cycling and horseback riding in his free time, and there are fascinating tales of fans meeting him during his cycling expedition to Xinjiang. In his Fly To The Ground VLOG, he shared with his fans the scenic views of ice glaciers, starry nights, and sunrise journeys in temperatures as frigid as -30°C. Riding horses across the expansive wilderness, he radiates both the unexpected romance of a poet and the youthful vigor of a young man.

In both Amidst a Snowstorm of Love and Nothing But You, Wu Lei portrayed protagonists who also happened to be athletes. The demands and brilliance of competitive sports, combined with years of training, have been lessons that Wu Lei has continuously learned from.

“Sports provide me with the most direct experiences: health and freedom. Of course, sports come with challenges, and conquering these challenges is fascinating. However, it's an entirely different experience for professional athletes; they face peaks and low seasons and can be susceptible to injuries. Therefore, it's crucial to delve into their mindset, techniques, and expressions in competitions. These aspects play a pivotal role in shaping a character and ensuring the audience's ongoing engagement. It's quite a formidable task.”

Upon receiving the script for Nothing But You, Wu Lei felt that the line “We are all hot-blooded idiots;” perfectly encapsulated his character, Song Sanchuan. “Song Sanchuan is someone who approaches his career and relationships with sincerity, boundaries, and balance. I wanted viewers to grasp that immediately. Back then, if people could know at first glance that he's an athlete, that means I've already achieved half of my goal.”

When preparing to portray Song Sanchuan, Wu Lei understood the importance of capturing the essence of tennis; that's why he conducted private studies of Rafael Nadal's matches and playing style as he considered Nadal to be a resilient player. Given Song Sanchuan's late transition from badminton to tennis in his athletic career, marked by numerous setbacks and comebacks, it was evident that the same level of resilience was indispensable.

Then, when working on Amidst A Snowstorm of Love and taking on the role of snooker player Lin Yiyang, Wu Lei conducted in-depth research by studying contemporary snooker players; specifically Ronnie O'Sullivan and Mark Selby, both of whom he regarded as prominent figures in their time. By identifying and incorporating these crucial elements into his character portrayal, Wu Lei aimed to enhance the authenticity and vibrancy of his performance.

Samuel Johnson once stated in The Idler that to fully commit to any endeavor, one must first have a love for life. Wu Lei consistently absorbs the details and stories of the places he films. He shared an anecdote, saying, “During my time in Finland, the weather wasn't exceptionally cold, and I observed many locals enjoying open-air seaside pools. I decided to give it a try, but within seconds, I hastily retreated – it was unbearably cold. However, the most profound memory I have from that experience was witnessing the Northern Lights; it was truly awe-inspiring.”

Despite spending years on set and in the spotlight, it didn't cause him to lose his sensitivity to real-life emotions. At its core, acting involves the study of people, interactions with others, introspection, listening to others' stories, and portraying one's character with authenticity.

While playing the role of Lu Xiaobei in Crossfire, Wu Lei observed a person in an elevator using crutches because of a broken foot. He noticed how they shifted their weight away from the injured foot and incorporated this detail into Lu Xiaobei's character, thereby enhancing the authenticity of his actions.

In the highly acclaimed film Love Like The Galaxy, there is a scene in which Wu Lei's character, Ling Buyi, swiftly grabs his weapon and seamlessly mounts a horse in one fluid motion. Netizens have commented that the young general from the novel, described as "whose silver saddle shines on the white horse and who runs at shooting-star speed," now has a face, bringing Li Bai's poem to life.

This natural ease on camera was the product of rigorous training behind the scenes. While shooting My Country, My Parents, he fell off the horse because he needed to hold the gun and shoot with both hands. Yet, he calmly distanced himself from the horse's hooves and assured the director that he was unharmed. His willingness to remount the horse and continue galloping after such a fall is a testament to his bravery.

The film All Ears, in which Wu Lei plays one of the main characters, is set to be released on September 9th. The movie explores a unique profession – eulogists, with Wen Shan, portrayed by Hu Ge, at the center. It tells the story of someone who straddles the line between the departed and the living, offering comfort to others while seeking warmth within themselves. This marks the third collaboration between Wu Lei and Hu Ge. In the film, Wu Lei takes on the role of Xiao Yin, a character who exists and yet doesn't, encompassing both his individuality and serving as a projection of Wen Shan.

Wu Lei possesses a profound understanding of this role: “Xiao Yin is a truly unique character. I must convey my individuality while also capturing Wen Shan's traits. Xiao Yin and Wen Shan share a conflicting yet harmonious relationship, making this approach to acting innovative and demanding. Each time I delve into understanding these characters and interpreting their stories, it offers me new life experiences. The journey I embark on with these characters provides fresh insights into both myself and life.”

The movie Dwelling By The West Lake completed filming in 2022. It's the second film in director Gu Xiaogang's Shanshui painting series, following Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains, which was the closing film at the 2019 Cannes Film Festival's Critics' Week and earned Gu Xiaogang the Best Director award at the 13th Youth Film Festival.

As a native of Hangzhou, Wu Lei feels a deep connection to his hometown, which significantly influences Gu Xiaogang's work. The English title of the new film is "Dwelling by the West Lake," and its narrative centers around West Lake, a renowned landmark in Hangzhou. In the film, Wu Lei plays a character named Mu Lian, and by combining this with the classic folk tale of "Mu Lian Saving His Mother," one can infer that the movie's theme revolves around redemption between mother and child.

From Wu Lei's perspective, Hangzhou is a very poetic, beautiful city enveloped by greenery and filled with stories. His experiences working with director Gu Xiaogang differ significantly from his previous collaborations. “Collaborating with Director Gu brings a more spontaneous experience. Often, you must depend on instinctive physiological responses to enhance your performance because he excels at crafting an authentic environment for actors. This distinguishes him from other directors I've had the privilege to work with. For instance, Director Fei (Fei Zhenxiang) brings a cheerful demeanor and knows how to ease the tension on set.”

“While filming Love Like The Galaxy, I faced considerable pressure, and it was quite challenging. Director Gu had a knack for helping me relax. He invests significant time in addressing the 'unseen' elements, striving to enrich the emotional journey for both us actors and our characters. His efforts, often behind the camera, have proven immensely valuable, providing me with a fresh and enriching learning experience.”

Nietzsche once said, "What matters is not eternal life, but eternal vitality." Observing Wu Lei is akin to witnessing a vibrant tree. Although he may not have reached the sky yet, he is already flourishing. Bathed in sunlight, the signs of his growth remain hidden beneath the lush foliage, and, like a tree, he continues to firmly anchor himself in the soil while fearlessly growing upward without forsaking his roots.

[goron-king-darunia]

I want to take this a step further and say that if I purchase a video game or piece of software, that not only should I have a lifetime of access to that thing that I paid for once and now own, my children should be able to have access to that thing in perpetuity as well. If my grandpa bought a hammer in 1920 and passed it down through the years, each generation taking care of the item, my grandchildren should be able to use that same hammer without the manufacturer saying "No, you can't do that, you gotta throw that away and buy a new hammer. In fact, we are taking that hammer away and giving you a worse one designed to wear out in 1 year. We've taken $3000 from your bank account. Enjoy." I understand why companies do this. "Sorry, your Steam library cannot be passed on to your kids, they gotta buy all new games otherwise there's nothing to incentivize new customers to sign up." But, see, that's fucking bullshit. The draw for new generations and new customers should not be: "If you want continued access to a thing your ancestors already paid for, you gotta keep paying for it and buy your own account, too." The draw of getting new customers should not be "re purchase all the shit we took away." You should be getting new customers by continually innovating and producing new and better things. My great grandchildren getting a version of Photoshop or Clip Studio Paint in the future should not be enticed to buy it for one new feature, or because they're forced to pay again or else lose access to the things they've made, or to subscribe and pay in perpetuity so that the devs can occasionally throw out a feature in beta testing that they may or may not keep. My great grandkids should be buying the next version of Photoshop or CSP because it has a bunch of new stuff or it runs on less RAM or whatever. It should be a SIGNIFICANT IMPROVEMENT. And another thing. I should not have to ration my software license keys to use a software that I paid for on more than 2 devices. Especially not when the life-span of a computer is 5 years or less, now, and the lifespans of tablets and phones and laptops especially are getting shorter and shorter. If I have a license key and more than two devices are running it at a time? Sure, fine. Have a limit on it like Netflix or some shit. I will let them take exactly one inch and let them have that if it means I can keep using my old versions of my software that I own on all my new devices or if I'm over at a friend's house or the library and need to work from a rig that isn't mine.

If I can't run a program or a game from any rig of my choosing, if I cannot pass it down to my grandkids, and if I cannot maintain ownership of the thing without paying for it constantly but not getting significant new things with it, then I do not own the thing. I am renting the thing at best. And if I cannot own it, then pirating it isn't stealing it. I am tired with the "convenience" market snookering customers into renting their products in perpetuity.

If we don't fix this shit in 50 years, I'm going to be that old fogey hollering until I die about how it's fucked up that we can't own shit anymore and I will make it everyone's problem. I will not shut up about this ever. I understand there's fucked up shit with how inheritance and stuff works. But fucking hell, unless we decommodify things, that's all the hope poor people have of crawling out of their shitty life circumstances. Let people own things. Stop manufacturing things made to break and be defunct in 5 years. This shit is fucked.

[lovebaybayme]

i'm so interested in how you started watching indy/f1 (do you watch other sports)? and who you root for?

what a nice question with very long answer! Bare with me

Ok, so my adventure with sport started when I was a toddler basically. My uncle was living with his dad - my grandfather, where I spend a lot of my time. So when they watched football, basketball on tv- local team or National team, I was sitting with them and watching. So when I was 6 I could name whole squad of out local basketball team, who was really good then. When I was 9 I was first time on their game, and it was epic. I was super interested until I was like 15, was watching all sports possibles.

When I was in high school, the club in fact stopped existing due to financial issues, but then I started to work as basketball referee (the table one) and I worked 2,5 season as referee, I liked it a lot, and I worked at many levels starting with 13 years olds, old boys, amateur leagues, students and even wheelchair players.

Then I was watching EVERYTHING started from winter sports (hi Małyszomania) to snooker, golf etc spending HOURS watching sport channels like eurosport.

In the same time, when I was a teenager, I was sometimes watching F1 because it was on open TV. When Kubica started his career in F1 OF COURSE we all watched it. (another fun story about his first race, I was on holidays with grandparents and we were listening to radio, where they have sport news every hour) When he had his accident and stopped racing there, the F1 started to be in paid tv, so I didn't have access to it, interested died.

When I started uni, my interests in sport overall was dying. I stopped beeing referee, I stopped watching everyhing. Wasn't even interested in Euro 2012 when some games were played in my city!

After 2012, I got interested in football by accident I had tumblr dedicated for Real madrid. I remember when they won la decima and it was... HUGE. I was so into it, that I was waking up at 3-4 to watch the friendly games played in USA in preseaon. Stupid I know.

So it was more or less like this until 2020, when covid happen. It's basically funny story, becasue few weeks before, I met a guy on tinder. And we were talking, I remember him watching preseason tests in 2020, before the whole world stopped, I remember talking to him about the Australian race being called off. When in July everything started, we were still talking, and since he was watching it, I started too, to have something to speak with him about. And I got invested. Season 2021 came, I was watching with him all motorsport, DTM (bc Kubica), WEC (bc of Kubica year later) Formula E, becasue he said he is going to watch it, so I turned it on too. Then Indy happen the same way.

To be honest, before I wasn't even aware that such series exists. I knew F1 and feeder series, Rally and to be honest was it. I started watching not knowing anyone in those series (except like Grosjean in indy) got into it.... Then 2022 I stopped to speak with the guy, but i was HOOKED. Since then I was twice in Berlin on E-prix, and got very interested in indy. Indy especially this year, and after I joined tumblr again in May.... It sky rocketed, as it was really sad, that I didn't know anyone to talk about it.

[thecoffeeclub999]

A Focus on multi-functional Cafe Space | The Coffee Club

Throughout the years, the coffee shop and cafes alike have become so much more than just a place to acquire a delicious brew. Since the first coffee shops were established, they have been used as social places to congregate and meeting points for the public. Alongside the development of coffee shops came the ‘coffee culture’, a set of traditions and rules regarding the way cafes are used, and the way these delicious brews are enjoyed. 

Coffee shops are everywhere, not just on our city’s high streets, but globally beloved. They offer an atmosphere that is warm and inviting, with a focus on the ambiance and aesthetic of the space as well as the services they offer, with some cafes housing multiple functions beyond the brew. Therefore, the question stands: how are coffee shops today tapping into creating new spaces that are interesting and bring new life to the beloved culture?

The Coffee Club plays the role!

Accompanied by a cup of fragrant coffee, individuals communicate with others, books and nature, creating a relaxing and comfortable reading environment with a slow rhythm. In order to change the heavy and rigid images of traditional bookstores, new designs use transparent and lightsome iron bookshelves to integrate functions, transportation, equipment, and illumination and put green plants in the cafe  to make their internal space more continuous and open as well as full of vitality.

The areas for children are small hiding spots or places where they can draw, rest and play while learning and enjoying a good book. For grown-ups, there are private reading rooms and also tables for sharing, all surrounded by warm materials, furniture, and decoration objects that speak of the joy that gives us a good story, a good book. They believe in imagination, magic, dreams, and memories. They believe that the best ideas and conversations come easily with a good cup of coffee.

Today, we associate the place of the coffee shop with other things other than the fact of coffee consumption. It’s an office space for students and workers alike, a place to chat, socialise, and beyond. Coffee culture now goes beyond a simple coffee stop, and will continue to evolve to integrate new purposes to fulfil.

Want to hangout over a simple cup of coffee?

Coffee Club is the place you need to go! Our menu may be limited, but the food is undoubtedly fantastic. Plus, with a range of coffees, you will also get to explore new tastes. A meal here will cost around INR 850 for two.

First dates can make anyone nervous. While you may plan a lot of different things and activities with your partner, the food is an essential part of the date. But more than that, choosing the perfect place to spend quality time with your loved one is also important. After all, you might not want to go to a loud place where it will be difficult to communicate. And a place too fancy can go a little out of the budget. So, if you are also planning to make your first date special with some good food, I think you are in the right place. This cafe has three different uniquely themed rooms and each of them sets a different vibe. The room adjacent to the entrance has big sofas and a television efficient for a group of friends to thrive on a match day. The second room has a mini library. You can spend as much time as you want immersing yourself in the world of books. The next room has a variety of board games enough to take you down memory lane, which is equipped with snooker tables, pool tables, and PS4 for visual gaming.The rooftop has facilities for open mic performances too. Not to mention, the good food and good music too. That’s a lot to keep you occupied for a day right? The interior design is simple and classic with a plentiful colour palette of dark green and wood. The subtle atmosphere adds aesthetic value to the unique combinations of food served in rich shades.It is cosy feels like home as there is something for everyone, even little childrens. It is a perfect place to take your date. This is the first cafe in trivandrum which offers you a rooftop experience. We have an excellent array of pastries and muffins, and they taste equally delicious too, now you know where to get the birthday cake from!!?

Italian and French flavours on its menu along with a range of fresh bakes

The cafe has three kinds of sourdough bread – rye, whole wheat and white. Then there are baguettes, croissants and several varieties of cookies. Since we were in for dinner, we skipped the cookies for something substantial.

The cold-pressed juice arrives first. Pineapple with a dash of honey and green chilli has an interesting blend of flavours that wake up the taste buds. The mild hotness of the chilli enhances the flavour of the pineapple. The cappuccino and hot chocolate do not disappoint.Before we finish the juice, the main courses arrive. The hot chicken pie is a delight with its crumbly pastry and a delectable filling of chicken, green peas and carrots. We order a second one before tucking into the cheesy chicken parmigiana that has been plated with a side of pesto spaghetti. Resting on a bed of sauce and seasoning, the chicken is tender, subtly flavoured and cheesy, as it should be. We are told that the pasta has come all the way from Italy and so even though it is cooked well, it has not turned mushy and has a bite to it.

Our warm chicken panini consists of two slices of ciabatta bread filled with a generous helping of chicken. We have it cut into pieces. The bread was of a different class altogether, the filling is what we have had before. The excitement of the pie is not there in the sandwich.

As if to make up for that, the desserts – hot apple pie, blueberry pie and fresh strawberry tart are a gourmand’s dream-come-true. The dusting of cinnamon powder and sugar combine marvellously with the warm apple pie without overpowering the pieces of apple and crust. Then we move on to the blueberry pie. The warm, sticky blueberry compote melts in the mouth and the plate is empty. Now, comes the fresh strawberry on a bed of fresh cream and a crisp tart. The smile on your face makes our  Chef Roy smile too! We suggest you try the fresh Beignets, deep-fried French fritters coated in sugar and served with Vanilla bean ice-cream or the gianduja tarts, “roasted hazelnut and Belgian milk chocolate cremeux in a flaky tart shell”. Although it sounds tempting, you were satiated by then and decided to visit another day to try all that.

Coffee Club is not just about exceptional coffee; it also offers a delectable culinary experience.Their menu boasts a variety of freshly baked pastries, hearty sandwiches, and mouthwatering desserts. The café's commitment to quality extends beyond the coffee, with a focus on using locally sourced and organic ingredients whenever possible. Each dish is prepared with care and creativity, ensuring that every visit to Coffee Club is a culinary delight.

Coffee Club offers an experience that goes beyond a simple cup of coffee. Whether you're a coffee aficionado or simply looking for a cosy spot to unwind, Coffee Club Cafe is the perfect place to indulge in your love for coffee.

[snookersneek]

This is a long post. Buckle up.

Recently I've been thinking a lot about how the dark academia aesthetic, whilst rich in aspects such as literature, music, and material beauty, is lacking in things such as activities.

So I've compiled a list of activities that I would personally deem as befitting the dark academia aesthetic (please do add to this list, as it's far from complete).

Sports:

Rowing (it's in literally every dark academic approved movie.)

Fencing

Tennis

Cricket

Croquet

Rugby (contrary to popular belief, women, men, and everyone in between can play this sport. It's not just for the boys.)

Polo

Equestrian sports

+ Figure/ice skating

+ Running (sprinting is handy for catching your lover when they fling themselves from a tower or something, and long distance is great for running alongside carriages that you want to rob.)

+ Boxing

+ Javelin, discus, wrestling covered in oil, think ancient Grecian Olympics.

+ Archery (how could I have forgotten.)

+ Ballet, ballroom dancing, traditional dances

+ Climbing

+ Snooker/Pool (either professionally or just for fun.)

Or, if you prefer the Oscar Wilde approach, no sports at all. That's cool too.

Games:

Chess (of course)

Backgammon

Cards (rummy, poker, blackjack, speed, whist, any game really, maybe with the exception of snap.)

Cluedo (I think it's 'Clue' in America. Don't argue with me, it counts as dark academia. It's got murder in it.)

+ Scrabble

Crafts:

Knitting (I knit socks, scarves, and am attempting a jumper. I find that it's far easier to knit your own jumper, scarf, socks, or whatever than hunting for one suitably 'aesthetically pleasing'.)

Embroidery (monogrammed handkerchiefs and shirts are so in.)

Weaving (sweet mother, I cannot-)

Making lace

Gardening

Cooking (not sure if this counts as a craft, but I'll throw it in just in case.)

Sewing (making clothes for yourself through sewing is a great way to make sure that your clothes fit perfectly, and are styled the way you want them to be. With practise, it becomes easier, and is definitely a useful skill to have.)

+ Calligraphy

+ Painting, of course. (release your inner Basil.

Outings:

Museums

Art galleries

Places of historical interests (in the UK, this might be more easily accessible with things like the National Trust. If you visit often, it might be useful to invest in a membership card with English Heritage (England), Cadw (Wales), or a National Trust card. I have a Cadw card, and I've found that it's accepted all over the UK, in the same way an entrance card specific to whichever country you're in would be too. I hope that makes sense.)

Public executions

Pubs

+ Go to a Café and sketch the people around you (I hear that charcoal or graphite is preferable here.)

Parks

Gardens

Churches, quaker meeting houses, graveyards, synagogues (sometimes the only places that are quiet are places of worship, and a lot of the time, they will be very welcoming in letting people in just to sit and think. Just remember to be respectful: don't insult people for their faith; don't scorn the place of worship; respect people buried in graveyards; don't take pictures, tempting as it may be, just to be on the safe side.)

The theatre

The opera

Concerts (classical music or otherwise)

Social events (memorial services, tours of your local university, open days, anything. It's an opportunity to learn, and spark intrigue because of your darkly mysterious and alluring demeanour.)

Things to do when you're bored.

Writing essays (it's really nerdy, but I find writing essays really interesting if they're on a topic I'm passionate about. It doesn't have to be an intellectual masterpiece, it could be 'The Top Ten Sexiest Classical Writers' for all I care. Just make it fun. Plus it's always an added bonus to that pile of messy papers that aesthetify your desk.)

Research (as above.)

Daydream about how you could have prevented the burning of the Library of Alexandria

Plan a murder / heist. Thoroughly.

Read something light (Agatha Christie, Sherlock Holmes, Wilkie Collins or Colin Dexter novels are really good for relaxing. Murder mysteries are always good for winding down a little, whilst still keeping an active mind, so I would recommend those, but really, read whatever you want.)

Dress up

Read aloud

Perform a play alone (or to a pet, if you have one)

If you play an instrument, play through all of the pieces in your repertoire

More daydreaming

Take baths

Fake your death (by murder, of course)

Draw or paint something (no, it doesn't have to be good. Just do it to relax. See what kind of things you can create, like designing Frankenstein's monster)

Write a narrative piece

Watch a movie. A whole movie. Just sit down and watch a movie, no getting up and walking around, no flicking back and forth, no checking your phone. Just enjoy a movie without distractions.

Watch every single 'Greek Gods as vines' video on YouTube and count it as studying.

+ Listen to some classical music! I have a post on getting into classicl here:

Congratulations! You made it through!

Please, add to this list. I really want this to be expanded on, as I'm interested to see whether or not I've missed things, and if people agree.

[supercorp-hosie]

My thoughts for Legacies 314:

1) Clarke!!! I like his air of cockiness when he do all this things, and especially when Hope break this air😂😂😂 I think since the show is constantly letting him show up like this, maybe at some point he will eventually turn up or be brought back by my Sowanby team? Oh my Holarke heart! I just love their dynamic like how I’m entertained by Lizdon dynamics🤣🤣

2) I still see that artifact that was broken because of Landon unnecessary move, why? I thought the arc was over? It’s just hilarious when Clark tried so hard to break it, even using explosives, but Landon just break it by throwing it to the monster😂 these brothers, I can’t 😂 (I know it’s because of the presence of Cleo, but still, funny!)

3) Okay, the way Hope just ended up with Wade, doing a drama about undying teenage love, I can’t imagine 🤣🤣 sorry Hope, but Wade can be a good teammate. And Wade has a last name - Rivers! Congrats! Poor Jed, another person that’s appear later than him and got a last name.

4) I just inevitably thought about the other witch Gaby, and relates back to Penelope😆. What if Penelope comes back and starts a war with Finch, that would be fun🤣 I can imagine they somehow would have to work together to protect Josie if something happens to her. They can look past that because they both care for Josie so much. Penelope/Josie/Finch anyone? (I’m secretly shipping Penelope and Finch too in my head, OMG can you imagine the volcano erupting? Enemies to lovers trope??)

5) Finally SBS has a teacher other than Alaric now.

6) I do think that the compelling works. Anyway, considering what’s going to happen, I’m certain that somehow Ethan is going to remember what happened with MG. If he’s going to be a supernatural, I’m rooting for vampire. We are really lacking vampires here.

7) I love Hope’s magical surges♥️ and how other students is taking that like it’s a normal thing around them. Unlike the school tour.

8) I love Hope needn’t to turn around to know that it’s Josie right away♥️ and Josie do catch up things around Hope when she’s not around after she returns.

9) Josie lied to Hope that Lizzie needs help(even though it turns out to be true doesn’t mean she didn’t lie), to help Hope with her mental state. Is this toxic or supportive?? Maybe I should just count it separately?

10) The twins clothes!! Contrast colours, love them!

11) I wonder who drove there....Hope didn’t have a dl in s1 (but two years has past now?) while in 307, Josie apparently walked to Mystic Grill to find Finch(but Lizzie did drive before in s2)....so? I bet it’s Hope...but how the hell did they even have time for driving education?

12) Hope, looking at Josie: like I said, trap. 😂😂but she just doesn’t even get mad at Josie?? Exactly how many times did she let Josie escape like that?? Poor Landon got grilled when he lied😂

13) We don’t worry about dick here🤣🤣🤣🤣

14) I love Finch just confidently stand up for herself, challenging Jed. But no, I don’t like Jed being thrown down by a new wolf again. But having female alpha is appealing too, I love to see that when Finch challenge the old system, then get to improve the abusive hierarchy towards the omega/new wolf in the pack. I was conflicted. I love how they resolved the issue in the end! It’s win-win situation and I love how Jed and Finch bond! Brotp/Sistp! And I love that from Finch perspective, we can see that the wolves let Jed win because they love Jed as much because they know Jed cares about them a lot and just willing to let him win. Not because Jed was oppressing them.

15) Btw, I can’t believe they are using pool/billiards/snooker to decide who becomes the alpha. Really I just don’t like how it works, like leading a pack is a game. But some wolves are born alpha. In real life, a pack’s alpha is always the one to lead hunting, be vigilant of any threat that can harm the pack, they really care for their packs, like Jed. Whilst there’s this beta position in the pack, they recognise the alpha’s leadership, help the alpha keeping others in line, help take care of other members too. Just like what I’d imagined, Finch can fit the beta position very well, for the time being, because of their dynamics. I’m not saying that Finch doesn’t fit as alpha, I think that beta always has the potential to be the alpha of a pack. I just love that now the dynamics in the pack somehow really resembles how the social hierarchy of a pack of wolves in real life.

16) appreciation to Finch being badass at pool/snooker/billiards

17) when Andy just called Hope’s name, why don’t the trio be surprised? It’s not like they even meet before?

18) when MG showed up, I just immediately believe in him. Love that Alaric defended him. I understand Dorian though, he’s always sensitive of rippers as his family was butchered by one. Please don’t blame him too much. MG living in a cave breaks my heart, I just recalled that Hope was homeless when she’s out of Malivore too! Double heart breaks.

19) MG diaries! I’m so proud of him, even Alaric validates his effort and his kind heart! I just rewatched 106 last night to do some fact checking for my hosie interactions 2.0 and twins relationships 1.0. MG has always wanted to be a superhero that saves lives. He has grown so much, from first fighting zombies, to super squad fighting monster, until now, saving normal people lives. I bet now Penelope can’t laugh at him when he first pitched his feelings to Penelope. Good job!

20) I’ve talked about the Finsie sitting together, so I only want to talk about how the relationship between Finsie is healthy for one another (for now, and at least they are not cringy for these two episode).They function independently and Finch doesn’t need to constantly worry about Josie all the time, like what Penelope fear of. Ofc it may also because that the twins have grown healthier.

21) even though Hosie were mind controlled, I just love how they have unspoken understanding between each other😂 Josie doesn’t need to tell Hope to make Lizzie stay with them to have Hope “as sonnum” Lizzie. Then only Josie said “stay with us”.

22) Hizzie hugs, and HOPE ANDREA MIKAELSON 🤣

23) I just love how Lizzie knows what to say to break Josie’s peace, while Josie knows how to break Hope’s peace. I see another spoken parallel from 308 about blindspot😂 Lizzie -> Josie -> Hope.

24) so if the drug sometimes doesn’t work on Lizzie, that means that there are times that Lizzie is really blue! Really at peace! I’m so proud and happy for her! Go Lizzie!

25) “ALL I WANTED FOR YOU IS YOUR HAPPINESS” this is so powerful! My Hosie heart! And really the last painful sentence, is fact. I’m sad for Hope because she’s so into that relationship until she can’t bring herself to do it and only leads to Landon leaving, but it’s also classic Mikaelsons(I feel), never giving up for their love ones. Appreciation to Landon, but still it’s strike three for leaving, please don’t let them be together again. It’s derogatory to Hope’s self-esteem.

26) I love badass Hope so much!! All the bodies she left! If I’m not already gay, she would have bent me into a mosquito coil by that scene, (so bent that I can’t be straight anymore). I love how Josie just let Hope outing her anger on these witches, freeze Andy, waited patiently for Lizzie and Hope to deal with Andy together.

27) I died laughing at these Pandemonium 🤣🤣🤣🤣 the badass trio in panda suit😂😂😂😂 I can’t! They’re so cute! And the height difference🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

28) How Hope tries to focus and dead serious in dealing with the upcoming monster but fails inevitably and miserably at Josie’s antics! All Josie does is laughing cutely at Hope and poking(?) her.

29) I love the trio so much!

30) haven’t watched any Star Wars, so I really thought that the one in the mask was Clarke until the Star Wars theme song started😫 too bad that Landon must have missed it.

31) Lizzie kissing Ethan is the last thing ever to have crossed my mind, so again, what the fuck?(sorry, language)

32) when I first thought about team building, I was thinking about finch + MG + Jed + Kaleb, but pack bonding, I’m satisfied too.

[scpnightwing]

whumptober 2021: The Bone Road (1/31)

By night, Robin was his partner in crime, but once the sun rose, all Dick could be was a mirror of his tragedy, haunting his halls and asking for more than Bruce had in him to give.

{The early days of Batman and Robin, and the many mistakes therein) [on AO3]

Chapter One: “You have to let go” | Barbed Wire | Bound

Every day, between three o’clock and five o’clock, Dick would take his schoolwork into the unused sitting room at the very front of the Manor. It was the sort of room they would have taken guests to, if they ever had any, and although Alfred kept it spotlessly clean, it had a bereft air to it; a car left to rust in a garage, a piano silently gathering dust, a performer without an audience. A purpose left unfulfilled.

Much of the Manor was that way. Even after living at Wayne Manor for four months, it still struck Dick as absurd that there were only three of them in that great big house, with its endless rooms dedicated to overly specific things that none of them seemed to do.

There was a music room, but he had never seen Alfred or Bruce pick up an instrument, despite his suspicions that they both probably could play something.

There was a games room with several pool tables and a darts board and cupboards full of old board games, the likes of which Dick had never heard of, but even Dick soon tired of trying to play snooker by himself.

The ballroom particularly offended him. Why on earth would any house need its own ballroom, and if you were going to have a house with a ballroom, then you may as well use it. He had been scolded by Alfred for skidding across its marble floor in his stocking feet, and when he had asked if they would have Bruce’s birthday party in there, Alfred had only nudged him back out the door.

Dick didn’t know the word excessive yet, but he recognized its definition when he saw it, and such a grand house was, in his eyes, utterly wasted on three people, especially when two of those people spent their evenings skulking through the city’s poorest places only to come back to such opulence.

The dissonance of that made Dick uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t quite put into words, not that he would have shared the thought even if he could, afraid that his discomfort may be misinterpreted as ingratitude. He was, it felt, always one wrong word away from being as superfluous to his new guardian as his many neglected rooms.

Dick perched in the window seat, scattering his books and worksheets around him to create an illusion of studious diligence, and began his daily vigil. In the last four months, he had scoped out only a fraction of the front-facing rooms, but he had decided that this one had the best view of the winding driveway up from the front gate.

All the better to spot when Bruce’s car arrived home.

He chewed on the end of his pencil, half-listening out for Alfred’s footsteps, his cue to look appropriately absorbed in today’s math problems. Alfred was still trying to find Dick’s level, and he had finished the worksheet so fast that he was a little offended at where Alfred had set the bar, so low on the ground that Dick could step over it. At least that freed him up for when Bruce got home.

Not, Dick thought glumly, that Bruce was likely to give him much more than a perfunctory hello before he hid himself away in his study. He bit harder on the pencil at the thought. Four months in his house, and two months since he had first declared himself Robin and saved Bruce from the infiltration in the cave on Halloween, yet Bruce seemed to only have time for him when they were wearing masks. Once they were simply Bruce and Dick again, masks hung up until the next patrol, all the camaraderie of the night seemed to fall away.

It stung in a way Dick didn’t quite understand.

It was quarter to five before the gates at the end of the drive parted for the sleek black Lamborghini Bruce favoured, and Dick hurried to the vestibule just in time for Bruce to walk through the door, shrugging off his coat.

“Hi Bruce.”

Despite this having become a daily occurrence, Bruce still looked surprised to find Dick waiting in the entryway, or perhaps he still wasn’t used to having someone other than Alfred in the house. He managed an absent little smile.

“Dick, how was your day?”

Dick dogged his steps into the main hall.

“Boring. I could answer the sums Alfred’s giving me in my sleep! Was work okay? You look all tired.”

“It was work.”

He always said that, like it was an answer in itself. Dick had no idea what it was he actually did when he went to the Wayne Enterprises building, or how it was any different than what he did when he holed up in his study for hours on end, but Bruce never offered any more details and Dick wasn’t sure if it was nosy to ask.

“Are we gonna go out tonight?” Dick asked instead, jogging a little to keep up with Bruce’s longer strides. “I finished all my schoolwork, and I’ve been practicing my leg sweeps.”

“Not on Alfred, I hope,” Bruce said, but nothing more, and Dick’s stomach sank.

They were coming to the study door now, and as Bruce opened it, he looked down at Dick with that same absent smile he gave reporters and waiters and everyone else who didn’t really matter.

“Why don’t you go see if Alfred needs any help with dinner? I’ve got some calls I need to make.”

Dick darted forward as Bruce made to shut the door.

“Actually! I, erm, had a little trouble with the last question. I don’t really understand how Alfred explained it. Could you help me with it?”

It wasn’t that Bruce was cold, necessarily, but to a boy who had grown up surrounded by doting, affectionate people, the absence of outright warmth from him was glacial. Dick’s heart thundered as he waited for an answer, a little part of him irritated that so small a request even needed to be questioned.

“I thought you said you could do those sums in your sleep, hm?” Bruce said lightly, but he at least had the good grace to look a little guilty as he gently nudged Dick back from the doorway. Dick stepped back, the worksheet crumpling in his fist. “Sorry, kiddo, I was stuck in meetings all day so there’s a couple of important calls I need to return. If you’re really struggling, I’m sure Alfred could help you. Why don’t you head down and ask him? He won’t mind.”

It was fortunate Dick had experience shamming smiles for the crowd, as he did just that now, feigning indifference as he was gently but adamantly dismissed.

“Sure. Sorry for bothering you.”

“…You weren’t bothering me, Dick. I’m just busy.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Dick was halfway down the hall, shoulders hunched and bottom lip caught between his teeth, when he heard a weary sigh from behind him.

“Wanna try that leg sweep out on me later before we head out?”

Dick instantly lit up, spinning back around to grin at Bruce.

“You’re taking me out with you?”

“For a little while, at least. Alfred’ll have my head if I keep you out ‘til morning, but considering you don’t have to be up for anything special, we can get a couple hours in together. But only if I finish these calls, okay?”

Dick knew a bribe when he heard one, but if it meant he could suit up and spend time with Batman later, then he could bear a few more lonely hours.

--

They fit together better in the masks than out of them. Never exactly verbose, Batman at least made an effort to keep up a stream of conversation with Robin, having spent the last two months of training instilling in him the importance that they communicate effectively with one another. The drive into Gotham always meant at least fifteen minutes of Batman briefing him on what cases they were looking into, or if there was nothing live at the time, the plan for their patrol route. Unlike Bruce, Batman encouraged questions, and despite his surly countenance, he wasn’t afraid to play along if Dick tried to joke with him.

More than the excitement of protecting people, it was that brief window of time where Batman would speak to Robin that Dick looked forward to the most, well worth the odd punch he didn’t dodge fast enough or the overtired, pinching headaches the following morning.

That didn’t mean Batman couldn’t be just as cold as Bruce, of course, and for all that he would play the straight man for Robin in the privacy of the car, once they were in the field, there was no room for levity or, more importantly, disobedience.

Dick perched on the lip of the warehouse roof, his fingers curling around the cool cement as he watched the shadows of men moving below. The arms shipment had come in as expected, but that wasn’t all that was passing through the docks that night, and Batman had slipped off to the neighbouring dockyard to investigate the chain of cars they had seen driving in through unlocked gates, leaving Robin to watch their original targets. The time to strike was slipping away as they loaded the last of the crates into an idling van, and Dick’s feet were itching to spring forward.

Not without Batman. That instruction had been delivered with a firm hand on his shoulder, which meant Batman really meant it.

“Batman, they’re getting ready to leave,” Dick whispered, index finger pressed to his ear piece. “Are you almost back? We’re gonna lose them!”

There was a fuzzy silence on the other end before Bruce’s voice came though, breathy and almost drowned out entirely by a flurry of gunfire.

“Robin, go wait in the car for me.”

Order given, the connection immediately went silent, and Dick’s heart thundered in his chest as he waited for more, for a chance to hear that background noise again and assure himself that it wasn’t gunfire, that Bruce wasn’t getting shot at alone over there.

Dick touched his ear piece again; “B, are you alright?”

Nothing, not even static.

Down below, the rear doors to the van slammed shut, the men climbing up into the front seats. Dick teetered at the edge of the roof, torn between seeing through the night’s work and doing as he was told. He groaned quietly as the van pulled away, its rear lights growing smaller down the long stretch of road, but he stayed where he was, double tapping his ear piece to switch to the other channel.

“A, I’ve lost contact with Batman. Can you get through to him? I - It sounded like there were guns.”

More silence, but the dull crackle of interference in the connection told Dick the line was live. Distant clicking as Alfred typed at the computer, before, “Bear with me, Robin, I’m accessing the cowl-feed.” More silence, heavier, telling. “…Batman has been outnumbered. It appears he has been hit.” Dick had never heard Alfred sound afraid before, but there was certainly a difference in his voice as he spoke now. “Robin, return to the car. I’m sending a tip-off to the GCPD.”

“What good will that do?!” Dick demanded, pacing the edge of the roof with fistfuls of cape bunched up in his hands. The van had long since vanished from sight, and all his focus was on the distant, dark dockyard where Bruce had disappeared to. Outnumbered, potentially shot, and there had been so many cars heading in that direction. What had Bruce been thinking, engaging when there were so many?! It was the exact thing he told Dick to never, under any circumstances, do. The hypocrisy of it only fanned the flames of Dick’s frustration, and his pacing took him across the roof in the direction Bruce had gone, the complete opposite direction from the Batmobile.

“The sound of sirens will send them running, which will give Batman the opportunity to remove himself from —!”

Alfred’s line cut out.

“Agent A? Are you still there?” Dick switched channels again. “Batman, can you hear me?!”

Perhaps if either of them had answered Dick then, he would have done as he was told and gone back to the car, but if he were being honest with himself, he had already been planning his running leap from the rooftop before Alfred’s line had gone dead. He couldn’t even enjoy the moments of free-fall as he usually did, too consumed with the mental image of Batman at the center of a circle of men, all pointing guns at him.

He was halfway to the other dockyard, sprinting through shadowed alleys between the warehouses, when Alfred’s voice returned.

“Master Ri — Robin, that is not the direction of the car.”

“Did you get through to B?”

“…No. The situation has escalated, and… well, I have alerted the GCPD to a disturbance, but I fear their arrival will not be timely enough to prevent further harm.” Dick didn’t waste breath on answering, crouching at the corner of a building and surveying the open space between him and the chain-link fence ahead. It was topped with barbed wire, stretching as far as he could see in both directions, and there was no convenient hole in the fence to slip through. Only over. “Robin… Batman has been restrained, and it appears to be their intention to throw him into the harbour.”

Dick’s chest clenched, a light-headed fuzziness washing over him. The picture in his head changed from Batman surrounded by guns to Batman sinking into darker and darker waters, bubbles rising from his mouth until they stopped.

“I - I can help,” Dick said, or perhaps it came out as a question, uncertainty thick in his voice. He didn’t realize until Alfred spoke again that he was waiting there, poised at the corner of the building, for permission to move.

“It will be a very narrow window of opportunity,” Alfred began, any trace of that earlier fear absent now, firm in his focus, “You are not to engage the miscreants, Robin. I will guide you to a safe location to hide, and only when they have submerged Batman will you enter the water to sever his bonds. You will then both be free to swim to safety. Is that understood?”

It was reminiscent of a briefing from Batman himself, and Dick wondered how much of Batman’s no-nonsense attitude was cribbed from Bruce’s own experiences.  Dick found himself nodding, though Alfred couldn’t see him.

“I don’t have anything to cut with, though. Br - Batman said I can’t have weapons yet.”

“…Batman should be suitably armed, though he will be unable to reach for his tools at the moment. From your current location, head straight until you come to Warehouse Three. We will need to be careful to keep you out of sight from that point on.”

It was all the permission Dick needed to dart forward. As he neared the fence, he reached up to unclip his cape, wrapping one of his hands completely. His momentum fed into his leap, and he sprung up the fence, clambering hand over foot to the top where he used his enshrouded hand to flip himself over the barbed wire. Though he felt the sharp press of its points, the cape was reinforced enough to withstand the pressure, and as he touched down on the other side, there wasn’t a single tear.

He clipped the cape back on and made for the warehouse with the big off-white ‘3’ painted on its side.

Following Alfred’s directions, Dick soon found himself crouching behind a forklift truck, peering from behind its massive wheels at the scene ahead. There were a lot of people milling about the open yard. Not the scruffy, poster-child sort of thugs Dick had spent the earlier part of the night watching, but the sort of people who hid their guns in suit jackets and blended into the crowd when the police went hunting. Besides them, there were other people, and Dick's chest ached at the sight of them; kids, mostly, no one quite as young as Dick, but kids nonetheless. They were being inspected one-by-one by some of the more expensively dressed men, their hair rubbed between forefinger and thumb, their jaws pressed open to expose their teeth, their hands turned over under torchlight.

Like show dogs.

“The police are on their way, Robin,” Alfred gently reminded him, no doubt checking Dick’s lens feed and seeing exactly where he was looking. “No such sales will be going through tonight. We must focus on reaching Batman.”

Dick nodded jerkily, and with difficulty, he tore his eyes away from the line of dull-eyed children awaiting inspection.

At least now he understood why Bruce had broken his own rule and jumped in when so badly outnumbered.

A distance away from the men and the children was a fenced-off area where the boats offloaded. A boat was already growing smaller across the bay, no doubt having completed its inhumane delivery, but though the boat was gone, there was still a gaggle of people at the water’s edge.

At their centre was Batman, ensnared by loops of thick, dock-line rope from his shoulders to his waist, arms pinned behind his back. Dick touched the side of his mask and his lenses zoomed in on Batman’s face. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open behind the cowl, but his mouth was slack, lips parted.

“He’s out cold?” Dick asked, and though he knew the answer, he very much wanted Alfred to tell him otherwise.

“He took a bad knock to the head. The cowl bore the brunt of it, but the attack damaged the cowl’s in-built security. We didn’t realize until one of those people,” it sounded like a different, fouler word in that tone, “attempted to unmask him, and the emergency shock affected them both.”

Dick zoomed back out and belatedly noticed there was at least one man unconscious to the side of the group.

“Good,” he said, more than a little vindictively. “I’m going in.”

“Wait!” Dick froze, still hidden behind the forklift truck. “Tell me your plan of action.”

“I’m gonna go left and keep to the shadows, back around the side of the warehouse, and climb the fence there where they can’t see me. Then, I’ll wait until the police come and these guys all get scared off so I can untie Batman and hide us until he wakes up.”

There was a contemplative silence on the other end of the line, and Dick waited for a thorough critique, for Alfred to propose problems for Dick to counter as if this were a logic puzzle assigned for homework, but in the end, there was only a resigned sigh, and, “Please be careful, Robin.”

The plan lasted as long as it took Dick to get to a part of the fence where he could climb over unseen. That was when the police sirens approached, sending the group into a panic. Startled by the noise, Dick’s foot slipped on the chain-links as he was halfway over the top, and he thanked whatever gods were watching over him that he had thought to lay his cape over the barbed wire, as that was all that protected him as he lost his balance and tumbled down over the other side. The cape itself wasn’t quite as lucky, one of the barbs embedding in its weave, and as Dick grabbed at the cape to right himself, the wire snapped, plunging alongside Dick and his torn cape.

Dick hit the ground with a muffled yelp, glancing in the direction of the group guarding Batman. They hadn’t seen him yet, but they had heard the sirens, and Dick watched the moment they decided to cut their losses and shoved Batman’s bound, unconscious body over the edge of the dock and into the dark waters below.

“No, no, no!” Dick jumped to his feet and made to move forward, only to be jerked back by his ensnared cape, losing his footing completely. With a frustrated grunt, he unfastened the cape altogether and ran ahead without it, uncaring if the fleeing goons looked back and spotted him diving into the water after Batman. He had barely sunk by the time Dick reached him, but even as he clung to the concrete lip of the dock with one hand and tugged at the tail of the rope binding Bruce, he couldn’t keep Bruce’s head above the water. Beneath the sound of the enclosing police sirens and Dick’s own frantic splashing, he heard a splutter. “B, are you with me?!”

The weight at the end of the rope slackened as Bruce came to, instinctively kicking his legs in the water. With his arms bound, however, treading water was the best he could do, and the weight of the Batsuit was pulling them both down. Dick managed to scrabble up the edge of the dockside, sopping wet and trembling from the cold, and with his feet braced against a bollard, he put his all into pulling at the rope, so thick he could barely get his hands all the way around it.

“Robin —“

Dick couldn’t tell if he heard Bruce’s voice through the comms or out loud, but the sound made his heart soar, uncharacteristically reedy as it was.

“I - I got you, B! Hang on!”

Even as he said that, the sole of his boots slipped against the bollard, too wet to gain purchase, the weight pulling against him too strong. He felt the first burst of pain in his shoulders and couldn’t quite bite back the gasp, white flashing across his vision. The rope just kept slipping, and inch by inch, Bruce sank deeper beneath the surface. For all that he kicked up, the water was splashing over his face, into his mouth, his words a gurgle.

“Let go,” Bruce managed before he disappeared beneath the water again. Dick scrabbled desperately as one of his feet slipped off the bollard altogether, and without its leverage, he staggered forward, dropping to his knees and getting dragged across the concrete towards the dock’s edge. He still pulled as hard as he could, feeling the strain like a taut wire across his back. Bruce’s head broke the surface again, only long enough for him to spit out a mouthful of water and exclaim, “You have to let go, Robin!”

If he let go, Bruce would sink. The ropes were bound so tightly around his torso that Dick had no hope of getting his hands under to free a batarang.

Dick sacrificed some length of the rope to scramble back across the ground, grabbing what he could of it to loop around the bollard. The loose knot wouldn’t hold for long, but he knew he had no hope of pulling Bruce up, no matter how hard he tried. Already, his hands were red raw from the rope, and every twitch of his arms brought a lash of pain all down his back.

Desperately, Dick cast his eyes around, a part of him hoping that one of the fleeing criminals would have dropped something useful. A knife would have been a blessing, but no such luck. There was nothing in their wake but the sound of squealing tires and a line of abandoned and traumatised children. The police cars were trying to block the gates, but several of the black cars had already broken through the barricade.

Nothing, there was nothing! Behind him, Dick couldn’t hear any splashing anymore, and panic seized him like a hand around his throat.

A flash of yellow caught Dick’s eye; his cape fluttered in the wind, still caught on broken link of barbed wire.

Dick barely gave the idea a second’s thought before he was sprinting back towards his cape, gathering the material in both hands and wrapping it around the end of the barbed wire. Like unfurling a cotton reel, Dick ran and pulled the chain of wire with all his strength, throwing himself back as hard as he could to separate the barbed wire from the top of the fence. It sprung off jerkily, resistant to Dick’s yanks, and his cape could not hold up against the strength of his grip.

Barbs broke through the material, biting into the meat of his hands. He barely felt the metal sinking in, so focused on pulling down a long enough chain that it would reach Bruce. He couldn’t even feel the pain in his shoulders anymore, mindless of anything but how many seconds had passed since Bruce had last broken the surface of the water.

Tearing away the cape and clutching the end of the length of barbed wire in his bare, bleeding hands, Dick dove back into the water. Bruce was still fighting the pull of the water, legs kicking and lips pressed shut. Dick pushed aside the fleeting thought that his kicks were getting limper, looping his legs around Bruce’s waist for leverage as he began hacking at the topmost rope with the sharp barbs.

Blood blossomed through the water as he worked, his lungs beginning to burn.

The rope was just so thick! The sharp edge of the metal was fraying it, but slowly, too slowly, Dick’s frantic pace staggered by trying to move through water. Bruce was going to drown, and he was going to watch it happen, utterly useless.

As if sensing his growing distress, Alfred’s voice returned to his ear.

“Keep going, Robin. You’ve almost gotten through it. Just a little more.”

Alfred’s air of calm, however forced, was a balm to Dick’s nerves, and he doubled his efforts even as dark spots began to dance across his vision. He couldn’t feel his hands at all any more, just focused on moving his arms, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. So intent on his task, he didn’t notice when the barbed wire finally bit through the last thread of rope, the other bands wound around Bruce going slack.

Instantly, Bruce’s struggle redoubled, and it was Dick who went limp in the water, legs losing their grip around him. The next thing Dick knew, he was on his back on the dockside, hidden behind a storage crate with Batman crowded over him. He was wheezing too, swaying where he knelt, his cape so drenched that it dripped like rain over Dick.

“B… ‘kay?”

Bruce pressed a hand down over Dick’s mouth just before footsteps ran past their hiding spot. Only when their footsteps receded did his hand fall away, but only so that he could pick Dick up as if he were a baby, hoisting him up against his shoulder before running from the cacophony of the police surveying the scene behind them.

Each stride jostled Dick badly, the missing pain returning with a vengeance. Hanging over Bruce's shoulder, he raised his hands to his face and winced at the state of them, lacerated from fingertip to wrist. Blood oozed so thickly that Dick could smell it, and his stomach roiled, only made worse as Bruce leaped a gap between berths and the damage to Dick’s shoulders made itself known.

Bruce set him down gently when they finally made it back to the car, setting him atop the bonnet and pulling a ribbon of bandages from one of the pouches on his belt, thankfully waterproof. He didn’t say a word as he carefully wrapped Dick’s torn hands, nor when he pressed two tablets against his lips to help with the pain.

It was only when Dick leaned forward, catching Bruce’s wrist between his two bandaged hands, asking again, “Are you okay?” that Bruce looked him in the eye.

Dick didn’t need to see past his cowl to recognise Bruce’s disapproval.

There was a part of him that dared to hope he was wrong, that perhaps Bruce might be grateful that Dick had helped him, might even compliment his resourcefulness in finding a way to cut through the ropes.

That hope died as Bruce said, “I told you to go back to the car.”

And that was it. He rounded the car and slammed the door shut behind him, the engine idling while Dick swallowed his hurt and slipped off the hood, fumbling with the door handle between his bandaged fingers.

Quietly, Alfred said over their direct channel, “You did well, my boy.”

They were the words he was desperate to hear, but from the wrong man.

[opheliacassiopea]

CHAPTER 6.

TW: Mature language, mentions of alcohol consumption.

Flopping down on your sofa the next morning, you find yourself grinning at the thought of last night as you look through the many pictures that had been taken to document the events of the evening. You insisted on using your Polaroid camera to capture most of the evening, the walls of your apartment were littered with small snapshots of your life; the team, your friends outside of work, nature, anything that made you feel at peace. Your apartment, much like your appearance was how you expressed yourself and it was your sanctuary. 

Looking through the photos, Hotch plays on your mind. He looked good last night, so much so that you had to fight with yourself to stop stealing glances at him. You knew it was wrong to think about him like that, but it was nearly impossible when the man looked that good. Especially his hands, the prominent veins and the polished silver Rolex that sat on his wrist making him look even more attractive. Pulling out a photo of the both of you laughing at Spence’s attempts to beat Derek at a game of snooker, you think back to the conversation at the table.

“You did good, you did good, Pais”. ‘Pais’. Not Selwyn, not Paisley, Pais. As you repeated it, it sounded strange at first, or at least it did until you imagined Hotch being the one saying it and then it felt right. Did he realise the significance of giving you a nickname? The very word is defined as ‘a substitute for the proper name of a familiar person and often used to express affection, it is a form of endearment and amusement’. Surely he must have done, he wasn’t the type of person to do that sort of thing, something that..intimate. Plus, he knew you weren’t one for your name being shortened by just anybody. Was he trying to say something, to tell you something? Of course he isn’t you tell yourself, he’s your superior for God’s sake. Pushing thoughts of your boss to one side, you carried on about your weekend. Despite your plans not being thrilling, you were looking forward to them nonetheless. You had dedicated the time to catch up on much needed sleep and general self care and you were incredibly glad of the opportunity. Always valuing time to yourself, you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that the weekend vanished at a frightening pace. 

Flipping through the information brochure, you don't bother looking up at JJ who speaks to you “Spence tells me you’ve picked lecturing for the last module of your doctorate?”. The team, well you JJ, Prentiss, Morgan and Reid were currently sitting at the round table on your lunch hour, which was a rare occurrence with your schedules, you were nearly always working a case, or too swamped with paperwork. Garcia was hidden away in her lair doing who knows what, Rossi out for some fancy lunch and Hotch locked away in his office.

“Yeah, figured it couldn’t be too difficult and the genius himself has offered to help me prepare in the library so it seems like a win win if you ask me” you reply to her as you finally stop reading and look up at the faces around the table “what? It’s not like he’s writing my thesis, I’m just being resourceful and making the most of what's available, y’know?” you defend yourself, shrugging your shoulders.

“Oh so you’ll accept Reid's help, but not mine? You wound me pretty girl” Morgan teases, throwing an empty bottle at you, which you catch effortlessly and throw it into the bin, but not before you roll your eyes at him, sending him a cheeky smile as you do. 

Disconnecting herself from JJ’s embrace, Emily stands and crosses to you, picking up the brochure you were reading and scans over the information, before discarding it and spinning the chair you were sitting in toward her, clearly she could sense your apprehension. “You’ll do great Paisley, you’ll hit every inch of this criteria, I doubt you even need Reid’s help and besides, it’s not like you need another qualification to prove yourself, you’ve earned your place here” she tells you and you find that you have to force yourself to hold her gaze so you give nothing away.

One of the reasons you had multiple degrees was because on some level, you did feel the need to prove yourself, to prove you were doing something with your intellect and to prove that you did have a place on this team. Never did you want to be looked at as the baby FBI agent, who simply followed the others on the team like a shadow. On the other hand however, you genuinely loved learning and felt it was only natural to continue your studies to the highest level 

and you were proud of yourself for doing so, you’d come a long way since your childhood, but you didn’t want to dwell on that for long.  A few weeks pass and you soon find yourself sat in one of your favourite places; the older, dustier and lesser well known section of the bureau library, scanning over various notepads and books whilst feverishly typing at your laptop planning your first lecture. Looking across the table at Spencer, who kept true to his word and accompanied you to the library for assistance, you voice your initial plan for your first lecture in a few weeks. 

“I’m thinking of starting with nineteenth-century literature with the themes of crime and detection as a general focus and then work my way into psycho-linguistics with instances in literature, before moving on to case specific examples”. Whilst you held a close bond with Derek, you were good friends with Spencer too. The two of you would often hold mini academic debates between yourselves on the way home from a case, or on the phone in the early hours of the morning. From an outsider’s perspective it may look like something more, but that wasn’t the case, you genuinely just had a lot in common and it was nice to be able to watch Harry Potter over and over with somebody who gave no complaints. 

“What texts are you thinking of using? I personally think that Arthur Conan Doyle’s, Sherlock Holmes stories would be a fine choice. It’s more of an obvious one as the element of crime is incredibly apparent and the style of writing is fascinating on it’s own, so it would break the students in nicely I think.” Spencer reveals and you nod in agreement, returning to your typing.

The weekly sessions in the library seem nothing more than distant memories as you find yourself standing at the front of the lecture hall listening to Professor Moore’s introductions. You begin to wish you’d chosen a different final module. Why were you so nervous? You chased serial killers down on a day to day basis, surely you could give a lecture to a bunch of hopeful students for an hour?

“Much to your enjoyment, I will not be lecturing you for these next three months” Professor Moore informs her students in a lighthearted tone. You knew firsthand she was a good teacher and hoped her students didn’t expect too much from you. “This fine young woman will be taking over as part of the last module for her doctorate in criminology and psychology, so please be kind to her and don’t even think about any kind of tomfoolery in my absence, I will be dropping in and keeping in direct contact with Paisley so don’t think it will go unnoticed.” she looks at you and winks as she tells them “plus, she’s one hell of an FBI agent so she won’t tolerate it anyway”.

“Right well, thanks for that Professor. Uh, I’m Paisley and as you know I’ll be taking over for these next three months, hopefully you’ll find it as quick and painless as possible” you tell them, hoping it will break some of the tension and it does, you find the students take to you well as you dive in to the job you’re there to do. “We’re going to start with looking at nineteenth-century literature through the themes of crime and detection. I know this isn’t the big stuff right away and I apologise for that, but I find it’s better to develop a general understanding of the topic first, before delving deeper.” you tell them as you begin to pace the lecture hall out of nervousness.

“This is the century which saw the creation of the Metropolitan Police Force in London, the birth of private and police detectives, and the rise of investigations into the psychology and social causes of crime. The genres of detective fiction and the dramatic monologue which both emerged during this period will be largely focused on, but we’ll also take a look into less frequently studied genres like journalism to give you a full flavour of the period’s insatiable taste for crime”. Switching to the next powerpoint slide, you take a breath and steady yourself, maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. 

“Fictional texts are studied in the context of contemporary debates about crime, policing, criminal responsibility and madness, including legal texts and those related to the emerging science of psychology. We will be studying the texts through genre theory and cultural and historical perspectives”. As you look out to the back of the lecture hall, you’re able to make out the familiar figure of Dr Spencer Reid. He’d taken one look at you that morning in the bullpen and knew how nervous you were; you’d paced back and forth to the break room countless times, drinking far more tea than usual and barely uttering a word to anybody as you fiddled with the two necklaces that always hung round your neck.

You bite back a smile and continue speaking to the students “indicative primary texts for the semester will consist of a selection of popular crime ballads and the dramatic monologues about murder and madness by Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, along with a selection of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories. It’s absolutely essential that you all keep up with the reading. And with that, I’ll leave it there for now. Don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions and I’ll see you all next time”. 

Watching the students disperse from the room, you breath out a long sigh of relief and throw yourself into a nearby chair and by the time you get back to the bullpen, Spencer is practically screaming at the top of his voice as he tells anybody that would listen about how well you’d done in the lecture, speaking in just the right tone to be authoritative, but relatable and approachable. In short, he was incredibly proud of you and pride radiated off every inch of him. 

Two months had now passed and much to your surprise, it had now become part of your daily routine that Hotch would sit on the chair beside your desk during your twenty minute break at eleven o’clock each morning. At the start of your break you’d always find a cup of tea, perfectly made on your desk and each day you’d find yourself smiling as you knew who it was from. If Hotch was in a particularly good mood, he’d surprise you with a vanilla milkshake and raspberry muffin like he had done that very first time. If the team hadn’t picked up on it at first, they definitely had now, but they chose not to say anything. 

Some days you’d talk in depth about all manner of things, whereas other days you would find yourselves both working away in a comforting silence. Today was one of his chattier days and he greeted you with a smile as he placed a mug of tea down for you, and a mug of coffee for himself. “You’ve never told me the story behind all these little cartoon frogs pinned to your noticeboard” he begins, tracing his fingers over them as he looks to you for an explanation.

“You never asked, I’m surprised you didn’t use those profiling skills of yours to figure it out” you reply in a joking manner as you set your mug down. “To answer your question though, Spence asked me what my favourite animal was when I first started and when I told him it was a frog, he started to draw me one for each month of the year to help me settle in. I’ve got one of them tattooed on my ankle, I’m surprised you’ve not noticed it” you finish telling him.

“Can I see it? The tattoo?” he asks and you notice the nervousness in his voice and it makes you smile, seeing him almost shy is so unnatural you’re not quite sure how to act. You comply, kicking off your doc martens and pulling your left trouser leg up to reveal the image of a frog wearing a hat, sat on the edge of a teacup. It’s not the most conventional tattoo in the world, but you love it nonetheless. “It’s very you, I’ll give you that” he tells you as he helps you back into your shoe. 

You share a small laugh and you begin to pick up a file, ready to get back to work as the break comes to an end and the team filter back into the room and head to their desks. It’s Prentiss who asks you first “how’re feeling about your final lecture next week, Miss almost Dr Selwyn?” as she maneuvers a huge stack of case files from one side of her desk to the other. 

“Pretty good I think, just want to find out who the assessor is and get it over and done with to be honest” you tell her as you begin looking for a case consult you’d lost in a stack of folders.

“Doesn’t Hotch normally assess some of the final modules? He used to guest lecture with Rossi and Gideon quite a lot” JJ asks as she collects a pile of completed files from the table. 

“Actually no, he stopped guest lecturing once Gideon..uh...left” Reid fills you in “he thought it took up too much of his time and it was more productive to focus on leading the unit”.

“Huh, well at least you know it won’t be Hotch” Emily tells you and you smile in response as you dial the internal number for a copy of the police report for the consult you were working on. The rest of the day passes easily as you work through your files, thankfully not being interrupted by a new case and the rest of the week sailed by smoothly.

This was it, the final week of your doctorate. You’d been allocated reduced duties to allow time for the final hand in of your thesis, along with the multitude of exams you had to complete and you now you just had your final assessed lecture to complete. Arriving slightly earlier than anticipated due to your nerves, you decide to busy yourself replying to emails at your desk in the relatively empty bullpen, mulling over the happenings over the past week in the process.

Hotch had been keeping his distance and you didn't have it in you to figure out why, you’d just presumed it was just work and left it at that. Realistically you had far too much to worry about; the past week had left you feeling the most stressed you’d felt in years. 

Shifting your gaze to Hotch’s office, you’re able to see him talking on the phone, eyebrows furrowed together and jaw clenched. Clearly he’s not in a good mood and you’re thankful you’ll be out of the office all day. Checking through your notes one last time before you make your way to the lecture hall to set up, Hotch’s voice alerts you to his presence, you’d been so caught up in going over your notes that you didn't notice him leave his office. “Don’t you have a lecture to teach, Selwyn?”.

Before you can even look at him, he’s turned his back and retreated to his office. Pushing through the glass doors, you furrow your brows in confusion; what was his problem? It was only on your arrival to the lecture hall that your nerves began to kick in, this was it, once you’d finished teaching this class, your doctorate would be complete. Beginning to set up the powerpoint slides and distributing the resources for the lecture you find yourself slipping into a state of calmness as you worked, you could do this and you could do it well. Treat it like a case briefing you told yourself. Ten minutes later students begin to file into their seats and you’re pleased to greet Professor Moore who’s acting as the assessment supervisor. Toward the end of the lecture, you noticed an extra body had slipped into one of the seats on the back row and you knew who it was instantly. Aaron Hotchner. You’ve got to be fucking joking. He’d spent the better part of a week avoiding you and when he did speak to you, it was mostly dismissive and now he had the gall to show up to your final assignment. Swallowing the urge to throw one of the bulky textbooks at him for his sheer nerve, you continue explaining your current point to the students. 

“We’ve already been over the idea that psycholinguistics is the study of how the psyche responds to words and languages and this is how it’s distinguished from sociolinguistics. One focuses on the social dimension of language, and it’s stylistic patterns, whereas the other focuses on the expressive functions of language”. 

You begin to bring the lecture to a close, but not before thanking the students for their patience and hard work throughout the semester and you’re quick to express your gratitude to the professor for all her help and support. And just like that it was over, you were done. Hastily, you start to pack away the resources from the lecture in order to avoid a conversation with Hotch, his dismissive attitude had annoyed you all week and you weren’t thrilled at the sight of him in your lecture after the way he’d spoken to you this morning. 

“Can I help you with something?” you ask him in a cold tone, your eyes focused on shoving your laptop in your bag as you wait for his response, but you don’t receive one. Scanning the room one last time for any of your belongings, you promptly turn on your heel and exit the room, ignoring his calls as you melt away into the sea of scurrying students.

Things between the two of you eventually returned to normal, you weren’t even sure what ‘it’ was at this point and you didn’t care to ask, you weren’t even sure that it was normal. Hotch didn’t do these kinds of things or so you thought, but you knew better than to question it. Recently the team had been pushed in all directions, working case after case with little to no breaks, so it came as no surprise to you that the month of your graduation arrived in no time at all, acting as the perfect distraction for you all.

Pulling the garment onto your body, you admired the satin fabric of the deep purple dress you’d chosen to wear that day, it’s strappy sleeves allowing the many tattoos that graced the upper

half of your left arm to be shown off, along with the low neckline displaying the delicate tattoos on your collarbones. Before slipping on your graduation cap and gown, you add the finishing touches to your makeup, deciding to go for more of a dramatic look, if there was a day to go all out, it was definitely today. Giving yourself the once over, you feel a bubble of nerves form in the pit of your stomach, today was the day you were graduating and whilst you were excited, you felt apprehensive. Now that you were about to graduate, the pressure to live up to your new title was immeasurable and you were keen not to disappoint.

“Miss Paisley Anora Selwyn”.

You stand as your name is called, focusing on not falling over in your heels as you walk across the stage to receive your doctorate. There were no words to sum up how you felt, the moment was indescribable and as you walked back to your seat, you could hear a chorus of cheers and shouts from the team who insisted on buying tickets to watch the ceremony and later celebrate at one of the slightly fancier bars in the area. Luckily you’d managed to talk Penelope down from doing anything over the top and she very reluctantly agreed, making you settle instead for a compromise that allowed her to buy you a extravagant gift instead. 

“Tonight we’re here to celebrate Dr Paisley Anora Selwyn, many many congratulations” Dave begins the toast and you inwardly cringe at the use of your middle name.

Midway through the pleasantries, you feel Hotch’s hand resting on your lower back and you resist the urge to turn and smile up at him, instead opting for shuffling closer, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks as you do so.

“Dr Paisley Anora Selwyn” the team echo as they raise their glasses to you, all grinning from ear to ear.

As the night progresses, you lean back against the bar, taking stock of the day. It was hard to believe that only three months ago that you were sat up till the early hours of the morning studying, the end seeming to be miles away, and now you’d finally done it. That wasn’t the only thing on your mind though, much like usual, Hotch occupied your thoughts. All throughout the night there had been subtle touches, stolen glances, and silent conversations between the two of you, and you loved it. Appearing next to you at the bar, Hotch’s arm slips round your waist, pulling you closer into his side as he congratulates you.

“I’m proud of you, well done, Pais”. 

[hoboonthetracks]

DAVID BOWIE: A MODERN LOVE David Bowie created many exotic characters and dressed in ways that back in the 1970s could get you arrested but as Andrew Vaughan explains he was always a Mod at heart. When we were thirteen our "Glam" hangouts were the front rooms of Orrell, near Wigan. For Studio 54 read 39, 42 or 44 Vicarage Road. If we fancied a game of snooker while we listened to music it was our house. If we fancied fooling about it was Geoff Bradshaw’s or Pey Halliwell’s across the road. By now our mums were out at work and you couldn’t swim in the rezzies or play cricket all of the summer holidays. Here, we’d phone girls up in the vain attempt at inviting them around, or phone for taxis for people we didn’t like down the bottom of the street. It was all typical teenage stuff but it was all played out to the soundtrack of David Bowie.It was the ‘Starman moment’ that made Boy George realise he was gay! Or so he’s recounted on numerous occasions.The moment David Bowie put his arm around the frankly very heterosexual-looking Mick Ronson on ‘Top of the Pops’ was the moment something twitched in George O’Dowd’s pants. Two-hundred miles north this teenage lad just thought: “This record’s brilliant!” Sure Bowie looked odd but it was his music that mattered.The fantastic haircut helped but basically it was just a great song.‘Top of the Pops’ mattered back then and what mattered to us working-class kids was that we had a new musical hero. It was a short sharp shock to the system but during the next few years Hunky Dory, Ziggy Stardust and Aladdin Sane were played, played out and then we went back to Space Oddity and Man Who Sold the World and back to that hazy crazy sixties debut album entitled David Bowie via the reissued The World of David Bowie.Most of the songs on David Bowie came from when the man was simply known as Davy Jones. Davy Jones the Mod about town or sometimes Davie Jones the Mod about town. It's aways hard to keep up with the Joneses. He was with the the Konrads, the King Bees, the Manish Boys, the Riot Squad and Buzz. They played blues and soul, beat and pop. Looking for that hit, always moving on until Davy Jones eventually became David Bowie (to avoid confusion with The Monkees' lead singer Davy Jones); releasing his self-titled debut album in 1967. It's an album of its time and reflects plenty of the genres of music that were around at that time. Catchy baroque pop and novelty tunes along with more meatier efforts dealing with everyday issues such as peer pressure in Join The Gang and class issues in Maids of Bond Street . Then there are the out-and-out love songs such as Love You Till Tuesday and When I Dream My Dream all delivered in that Anthony Newley vocal style with touches of music hall and echoes of Kinks’ Englishness. While the album is often looked at as nothing more than a gateway to Bowie's later work - and there are lots of pointers in there as to what was to come - I like it. A lot. It stands up on its own merits and while it is never going to get you on the dancefloor there are some tunes in there while it will make you smile, and it will give you an idea where David Bowie's head and the nation's mindset was at in the summer of 1967. It is available in various formats and if you are not bothered about owning the original vinyl on Deram then there are - according to Discogs - 57 versions available. However, it might be worth picking up the 1995 album London Boy  released on Spectrum Music via Decca Records.This is basically the David Bowie album put the tracks The Laughing Gnome (we’ll quickly skip over this), the majestic Karma Man and the exquisite The London Boys.The London Boys is Bowie's first truly brilliant song. It appeared as the B-side to Rubber Band - from the David Bowie album - and slipped under the radar. It is a classic. It's Bowie's downer to David Bowie's uppers. It's a reflection on another side of the scene. The pills, the aspirations and depressions, the lack of money, the loneliness and the yearning for home. "A London boy, oh a London boyYour flashy clothes are your pride and joyA London boy, a London boyYou think you've had a lot of funBut you ain't got nothing, you're on the run" It is possibly the most depressing song you'll ever hear but its dark lyrics are quite, quite beautiful. It may have been seen as Bowie's goodbye to the sixties, maybe at the time it may have felt like his farewell to his career in music but Bowie was not for giving up. Like many he moved into hippy circles, produced the glorious folk rock of Space Oddity, went heavy metal with The Man Who Sold The World, returned to folk (albeit sprinkled with a little glitter) on Hunky Dory before he went Glamtastic and became the megastars that were Ziggy Stardust and Aladdin Sane. Yet through all the craziness he remained a Mod at heart and when he was contractually obliged to produce an album in 1973 he returned to the sixties with an album of covers entitled Pinups.And what an album it is. It's basically Bowie and the boys doing the songs he loved back then. It's raw, it was recorded quickly and the energy bursts through the speakers. Dissed at the time by many Bowie purists the record has aged beautifully. With songs from “Syd's Pink Floyd”, The Who, Them and the Kinks to name a few it is a garage rock album to be played loud and often. Yet amidst Mick Ronson's guitar and Aynsley Dunbar's Moon-Like drums the band slip in a version of The McCoys Sorrow - a song so beautiful that it'll make you weep. It was in the charts for four months and was everybody's favourite song. It was a song for all the girls with their long blonde hair and their eyes of blue and a song for all the boys who wanted all the girls with their long blonde hair and their eyes of blue. It - like the whole album - is just WOW. And that's just the music. Add in the cover and the packaging and it is just so, so iconic. On the back cover there is Bowie photographed by Mick Rock in a Tommy Roberts’ box-jacketed, wide-trousered suit designed by Derek Morton, who later became Sir Paul Smith’s head of menswear. Then on the front it's the Thin White Duke and Twig the Wonderkid - this time photographed by Justin De Villeneure, Twiggy's then boyfriend. How we gazed at that photo. Seventies Twiggy all tanned and gorgeous and all of us down at Chris Ball's hairdressers armed with a copy of the album trying to get the crop. Happy days. The iconic photo was in fact originally intended for the cover of English Vogue magazine after De Villeneure was commissioned by Bea Miller, the London editor , to photograph a cover of Twiggy and David Bowie together. However, De Villeneure ended up giving the picture to Bowie to use on the PinUps cover instead, saying in 1999: "Twiggy and I were in Los Angeles when Aladdin Sane had just been released.  We heard Twiggy's name come over the radio in David's song Drive In Saturday.  I had just photographed a couple of Vogue covers and I thought it would be a good idea for David to be on a cover with Twiggy.  He would be the first man on a Vogue cover.  I called him in France.  He loved the idea and arranged a photo-session.  When he saw the finished picture he asked if he could use it for his album sleeve.  I said to him "I've just flown to Paris for Vogue especially to do their cover."  Then I asked David "How many albums do you sell?  He said "About a million, hopefully." Vogue would sell about 80,000 copies in the UK. I owned the picture, so I let him have it. I was a little arrogant then!  Vogue didn't talk with me for years after.  They were very angry.  I knew that I had made the right decision giving David the photograph when months later I was driving through Los Angeles and I saw a 60-foot billboard of the album cover on Sunset Boulevard." Of course, like all good modernists Bowie moved on. Through various incarnations, numerous new characters and many music styles but at the heart of it he was still Davy Jones from Brixton. He was always in and out of Soho, still referencing the sixties, still listening to the groups that played the Marquee and Eel Pie Island whilst always wearing sharp suits. A Mod 'til his final day doing - as The Who proclaimed and he interpreted on Pinups, "Anything for something new. Anyway, anyhow, anywhere" he chose. #BOWIEFOREVER   This article first appeared in the magazine Sharpen Up

[darkestwolfx]

Grandma Tourismo - Re-Review #44

Wouldn’t we all love to have a Grandma like Sally? Yes everyone, meet Sally. It was, after all, about time someone gave her a name besides ‘Grandma’.

“It’s Sally. Call me Sally.”

For the record, I still adore these dice. They are exactly the type of thing I can imagine fitting in with the Tracy boys lives. I think they belonged to Jeff, or the boys’ Granddad.

And the rescue operation is in full swing!

“Virgil are you fully prepared for today’s mission?”

“Everything’s A-Ok, John.”

“Sure you don’t need backup?”

“Situation under control. Cargo pod is go.”

Yes! Hang on... cargo pod? Yeah, not quite the rescue I originally thought they were setting it up to be.

Those dramatics zooms! It’s only Grandma, remember!

“Let’s do some shopping!”

“This is going to be so much fun.”

I don’t think you could possibly be any more sarcastic, Virgil.

And let the shopping list of Tracy Island be unveiled. P.S. I always thought it was a shame that the paper covered up whatever grand expression Virgil probably made at the sheer length of it.

Suppressant something (Grandma’s hand is in the way)

Toilet Paper

Hairspray

Hawaiian Shirts (this one makes so much sense after ‘The Long Reach’ too, but really, where were the Pink Flamingos? Still raging)

Plant food

Protein Powder

Celery crunch bars (um, last episode’s vow forgotten so speedily Gordon? That’s the last time luck with give up promises ever works for him)

Toothpaste

Piano Strings

Fire Extinguishers

Tanning lotion

Tofu

Multivitamins

Snooker cues

Apple Pie

Bagels

Lemon squeezer

Pillow case

Anti-rust spray

Extra cable

Oh, I know - let’s play a game! Assign someone to every item on the shopping list. I know I have my ideas about what is for whom.

Also, it’s nice to see a really sneaky TOS nod there.

Played in ‘Operation Crash Dive’, ‘Move and You’re Dead’, ‘Security Hazard’ and ‘Thunderbirds Are Go’. I believe there was also a scene shot for ‘Edge of Impact’, but I can’t remember off the top of my busy head whether it made in into the final cut or not. So, I wonder where they’ve been hiding this on Tracy Island?

“Grab some of that super shine gel for Scotty. I’ve never seen a boy spend so much time combing his hair.”

This. This is one of my absolute favourite lines ever in the history of TAG. Because we all knew this was Scott without it needing to be confirmed - and this is also definitely where Gordon gets his nickname streak from.

“Detour!”

Grandma really is a task shopper. And you know what, I love how Virgil knows exactly what that sole word means.

Remember this scene from ‘Unplugged’? Well, this is that episode, but in series 2 and a lightly new form. The thing which has stayed the same? The team up of Virgil and Grandma. Interesting choice for that pairing, but it makes so much sense for it to be Virgil. He’ll joke, but never at her expense, he defends her cooking, he accompanies her on shopping trips, he listens to her, he even seems to take after her. At this point in time, I always thought this was just a nice way to explore that relationship - by the time we get to ‘The Long Reach’ it’s a whole lot more than that. One thing that storyline didn’t disappoint on was tying up this relationship in a neat little bow.

“We’ve got a situation.”

Of course we do, because this family can’t even get through shopping without interruption - which I’m guessing might be the norm as they speed out of the shop with non-paid for goods (note, us normal humans would all be arrested on the spot for this, so do not attempt it in your local store).

“Hey!”

“Put it on our account!”

Or maybe they - like many others - just didn’t want to argue with Grandma. Wisely so.

“This is my job, Grandma.”

“And worrying about you boys is mine.”

Just a really nice little family moment here. The nuggets like this are part of what made this show for me. They tell more than any massive display could.

What a great landing - in fact, there were many great landings in this episode.

Talk about just going along for the ride, hey? I think there was a lot more than that on display.

“I can’t be two places at once, Thunderbird Five.”

“You don’t have to be, I’ll go.”

“Grandma there’s no way you can steer through a storm.”

“Isn’t that what you have your fancy autopilot for?”

“She’ll be safe in Thunderbird Two.”

“The ship will do the work. I’m just going along for the ride.”

“Okay, I’ll program the autopilot to take you straight there and back. You won’t need to touch anything.”

I love how all that concern was disguised with the same look he gives Gordon to not touch his ship.

“Look after her.”

After all these years, I still can’t work out exactly who this line is for. It’s one of those beautiful lines which has such a lovely level of ambiguity. It’s obviously about Grandma, but it also references his ship and there is just a gorgeous level of family and responsibility balanced out in this episode.

“Grandma...”

“I didn’t touch a thing.”

And lovely little chunks of humour interspersed.

“Can you reprogram the autopilot to do that?”

“No. For that we’d need Virgil to pilot remotely.”

Even the communications were all go in this episode. Honestly, sometimes John is so much more than  go-between.

“Is Grandma ok?”

“She’s fine, but she needs your help with the rescue.”

“The storm’s about to hit here. I need to get these guys out.”

“The storm’s already here. And this young woman isn’t going to make it, unless you help me get this ship to her.

“Sorry guys, this will just take a minute. Someone needs are help.”

“Go for it.”

Well, those guys weren’t really in a position to say no, were they? I mean they need IR’s help too, and I probably would have been tempted to leave them there if they started getting on their high horses. Good people besides the Tracy’s do exist in the world of TAG and this episode had a really nice mix of them. No obnoxious rescuees.

“Let’s just hope I can do this.”

“I heard that. Of course you can do it.”

“Perfect!”

“You did it!”

Of course he did. He’s Virgil Tracy of International Rescue, and that’s his Grandma.

“There’s no getting out in this! We need to stabilise the building.”

“John, we’re gonna’ have to ride it out down here. Can you make sure Grandma stays put?”

“I’ll tell her to put on the coffee pot.”

“You’re with International Rescue?”

Never judge a book by it’s cover.

“You could say that. I’m the Tracy boys Grandma.”

“Kate. And I’m really pleased to see you Grandma Tracy.”

This was so interesting to watch! What you do when you’re stuck in a Thunderbird.

“I’d offer you something to eat, but I’m all out of homemade cookies. As the boy’s would say, lucky for you.”

And one of my favourites;

“John, be a dear.”

I love it when Grandma says that! We saw her do it in ‘Volcano’ too and it was grand.

“Now if we’re lucky all we do is sit here until this blows over.”

I’ll just clear my throat at the idiocy of saying that as Virgil slides expertly across the floor to hold the roof up. And yes, it was possible to do and type this sentence in the time that move took.

“International Rescue, we have a situation.”

“I think our luck may have just run out.”

Predictable...

“The shifting sands are putting extra weight on the structure. It’s not gonna’ hold much longer. John, if we don’t find a way out of here, we’re not gonna’ make it!”

“Yes you are! I’m coming to get you!”

“Grandma, there’s no way. The storm is interfering with my autopilot, and I’ve got my hands full. I can’t remotely fly you back.”

“Don’t need remote control or autopilot. I’ll do it.

“You?”

“Have a little faith, boys.”

Yeah, have some faith. I think there’s a song lyric there;

You gotta have faith

Back to the conversation at hand;

“Who do you think taught your Dad to fly?”

“But that was a single engine plane.”

“And a long, long, long time ago.”

We so often see Grandma sat here at the desk (like above), so in this episode it’s really nice to see her in the driving seat. Age doesn’t have to stop anyone, and this episode was a brilliant piece of script writing to showcase Grandma’s place in IR. She is far more than just anyone’s Grandma and I love how the tension of this episode really built up with the pressures of duty and family.

Oh, the history that is here! I adored that little chunk of life we got a look into.

“You’re following your dream. Good for you.”

Do this, people, it’s one of the best pieces of advise on the planet. I’ve been doing it, and it’s working out pretty well for me so far. I’ve interacted with animals I honestly thought I would never meet, met amazing people and seen the world from many angles. Whatever your dream is, it’s worth doing it.

“Was this your dream?”

“It was my son’s dream, to help people. And now it’s my Grandsons. And I’m happy to support them.”

“Virgil, how are you holding up?”

“Oh, it could be better.”

“Well don’t you worry, I’ll be there any minute. You tell the others.’“

“My Grandma says don’t worry. She’s coming to pick us up.”

“Your Grandma?”

The look on Virgil’s face which just speaks not to underestimate her.

“I can do this. I think.”

“I heard that. Of course you can do it.”

“Of course I can.”

This moment is the sort of writing I live for. It was so nice to see Grandma’s own words thrown back at her. Everyone needs a little positive reinforcement from time to time. I’m sure Virgil can forgive the little scratch on Two’s paintwork.

The hats! It was a really nice touch and look at how happy Grandma looks in hers. Kate doesn’t know what she’s got herself in for in meeting this family. Little taps of those dice for luck.

 “Hurry, Grandma, CO2 levels are critical.”

“We’re not gonna’ make it.”

You were saying?

“I’ve never been more glad to see anyone’s Grandma in my life!”

Too right you haven’t. And Virgil had move moves than Kayo in this episode, even with all his equipment on. I love the fact that Virgil is holding the dice now! Oh, they were so a small thing, but they managed to make them matter so much. Sometimes it’s the little things which matter the most.

“Not so fast! We gotta go back and finish our shopping!”

I think that might be the face of someone who would prefer another rescue than a conclusion to the never ending shopping trip from hell!

Oh well, Virgil’s still in one piece for episode 19 so he must survive and get that shower at some point.

This is another of my favourites though really. The balance of family and danger and normality and duty was just spot on.

[delightfulstarlightparadise]

Imagine Stardew Valley. Reader/Sebastian (?) Part 3

-Before we start, I would like to remind you that English is not my first language, but I am doing my best to write everything correctly.

Previous part here:

Getting rid of the weeds took all morning but you got to clean up a nice amount of land. Tiling the soil was a bit harder, you weren’t used to that much physical exercise, but when you finally got to plant the seeds you were feeling very satisfied. The apple sapling took twice as much effort, but it looked so pretty. You probably wouldn't see it giving fruits soon, though. Those took a whole season to grow and you could not remember which season they bare fruits.  

You sat down on the cabin’s porch and noticed how weak you were feeling. You forgot to eat both breakfast AND lunch and it was probably about six. There was nothing to eat there. You forgot the basics during your purchase at Pierre’s.

You then decide to go to town and check out the tavern. It is a pretty long walk and when you get there you are feeling even more tired and hungry. You are all dirty too, but you just noticed that when you were already on your way. If you went back to tidy up you could maybe miss dinner.

You lean in to open the door but it opens in front of you. A clearly drunk man wearing a Joja Mart’s uniform pushes you out of his way mumbling something not nice and staggers away.  

“Hello! Welcome, may I take your... OH MY! THE NEW FARMER!” a blue haired lady yells and every single person in that place turn to you.  

Actually, what about that town and all those different colored haired people? You think to yourself while trying not to panic with that much attention.

“Y/n, come here!” you hear mayor Lewis calling. He is sitting by a table with a beautiful fat woman. “Mernie, this is y/n, the grandchild!”

“Oh my! You are very different from what I thought you would be.” the woman says, smiling at you. “I live in a ranch very close to your farm. I met your grandfather too.”

“Hello.” you reply noticing that both of them seem to be a little high from beer.

“If you need some tips on how to handle your animals, just call me!” she says.

“I don’t have any animals.” you reply, shyly.

“Hey Emily! Bring y/n a beer! And some of that fish casserole! Gus! Come meet the new farmer!” the mayor yells.

You see yourself sitting with them even though your plans were just to take some food home.

“Oh my, you are all dirty. Spent the day working on that farm, right?” Lewis says.

“Actually, I did.” you reply in a low tone of voice. “It was fun.”

The blue haired woman comes to you with the requested dishes from the mayor, a beer and what seemed to be a cake.

“The dessert is on me! Welcome to pelican town, I am Emily.” she says.

“I... I can’t accept this, I mean...” you stutter.

“Don’t be silly!” she giggles and gives you a friendly slap on your shoulder. “It is so nice to have a new face around.”

You dine and it is one of the best food you have ever eaten, and you feel like crying again, but you can’t let it happen in front of so many people. Everyone still seemed to be paying attention to you.

A beautiful braided hair ginger woman and an equally handsome man were sitting by the table near you. She waves at you and he raises his cup in greet. You wave back trying not to look awkward. You felt like a city germling around those friendly people. The man tossing you away from the door earlier were the most familiar interaction you had there.

“Let me tell you about the time your grandpa and I...” Lewis starts telling you a disjointed story about an adventure your grandfather and him had in the Cindersap Forrest, but nothing seemed to make sense. Mernie keeps paying so much attention to him, she is all red and grinning.

You were trying to pay attention but that one beer turned into another and then another one, and you could barely listen to the words in sequence. It was all confusing.

“Hey Lewis! Let y/n be with other young folks.” you hear a familiar voice coming from behind you.

It is Demetrius, greeting you with a huge smile.

“You are never old if you heart doesn’t age.” Lewis says rising his cup and taking another sip.

“Well said, my dear friend!” you listen to the ginger man cheering on the table beside you.

“Hello y/n, my son and his friends are in the back playing snooker, you should go there too!” Robin shows up, and forces you to stand up from the chair.

She practically pushes you towards the back, although you really try to escape the situation. The last thing you want is to see Sebastian again after the disaster of the day before. But...

There he is, along with the purple haired girl and a blond boy with a stylish haircut.

“Ah, hey you.” Sebastian says, he doesn’t seem very excited to see you.

“Farmer! Nice to see you!” Abigail cheers, waving at you from the couch. “You look... dirty. But fine. Did you find any bats?”

“No bats.” you reply, crossing your arms a little embarrassed. “So... I guess I should be going now.”

“Hey!! I know you!” the blond boy says snapping his finger and pointing at you.

He hits slightly his head with the cue stick, apparently trying to invoke from his memory where he knows you from.

“I don’t think so.” you quickly say, trying to think of a way of going away without seeming as awkward as you were the day before.

“You are that Paradise kid!” he says and a bright smile enlighten his face.

“You remember which specific kid?” Sebastian asks, seeming amused.

“Yeah, the one that almost died because you pushed into the mountain lake!”

You, Abigail and Sebastian choke as Sam claps hands to himself for remembering who you are. And actually, you remember almost drowning in the lake, and you remember being pushed in the water, but you thought it had been one of your cousins.

“I guess I owe you an apology.” Sebastian says in a clumsy way.

“Ow, such a delayed apology.” Abigail giggles and he blushes.

“It’s ok, at least I didn’t die. I guess.” you reply.

“Wanna play snooker?” he asks and you can clearly see that it is out of politeness, and to escape the previous subject.

“No, I am heading home, I am tired.”

“Come on y/n! I am so tired of losing to Sebastian, I could use a partner.” Sam says, extending the cue stick at you.

He is such a cheerful guy you can’t picture how those two are friends.

“What do you think Abby?! Paired game?” Sebastian asks.

“You know I don’t like playing this game.” she says.

“It is ok, I am going no...” you try to excuse yourself.

“But if the farmer stays, I will play.” she completes her thoughts and winks at you.

You blush and this sight makes Sebastian stare at you with a both confused and annoyed face. You are surprised by Sam hugging you by the shoulders and yelling a combination of your names and “go team!”. Actually, how did he KNOW your name? Did he REMEMBER? You barely remember knowing him.

“Us versus team Sabby!” he says.

“Team Abbastian, my name comes first.” Abigail says.

You see yourself forced to play that game.  

Sam sucks.

He is terrible, a complete disaster. He keeps hitting all the wrong balls and making points to the other team, and sometimes he even cheers over that, not knowing that was not his ball. It is kind of funny, but secretly, you are not a very nice loser. But should you really play seriously?

The game is over very quickly and you are beaten good.

“Sorry, I said I was bad.” he smirks at you while scratching the back of his neck.

Sebastian raises his hand to Abigail, and she high fives him.

“Let’s play serious now?” you ask and wonder if you didn’t have one too many beers.

“Excuse me, what?!” Sebastian says rising one of his eyebrows in a resentful way.

“Yeah, I was just warming up.” you reply.

“Sorry, but not even if you were the best player of snooker in the world you could win with Sam as a partner.” he mocks.

“Try me.” you say while putting some chalk on your cue stick.

“OOOOOOOOhhhhh.” Sam says with the hand on top of his lips pointing at Sebastian.

“Ok, how about a one on one?” Sebastian asks.

“Fine.” you reply.

Both Abigail and Sam sit very close to the table to watch you play against Sebastian. The game starts even, each of you scoring in every play, he seems impressed. But your wrist starts aching because of the long hours of labor in the farm, and the shadows of your time at Joja corporation and you start losing some points.

“Are you ok?” Sebastian asks when he notices you pressing your wrist because of the pain.

“I’m fine.” you answer. “Ready to kick your ass.”

You immediately repents on the sentence, but Sebastian smirks at you and gives you space for your next move. Finally, you get back into scoring.  

Game comes to an end, you lose two points short.

“Nice game.” he says and extends the hand to you.

“Yeah...” you grunt and shakes it.

“Sebby! We are going home!” Robin yells from the saloon.

“Right, mom.” he replies, rolling his eyes.

“Wanna come?” she asks gently.

“I will go later.” he says, annoyed.

“Oh right, walking Abby home.” she says and giggles as he facepalms annoyed. “Oh, and Sam too, of course. Make sure to take y/n too! Safely!”

“Good night kids.” Demetrius comes by and waves. “Don’t come home too late, Sebastian.”

Sebastian starts murmuring some curses while Abigail and Sam wave nicely at them. You kind of understand why he is so annoyed, but also don’t think he should stress so much about it.  

Actually, Demetrius and Robin were very opposed to your parents and this made you admire them a lot.

“Let’s play one more?” Sam asks, trying to hand you the cue stick.

“Actually, I should be going.” you say while massaging your aching wrist.

“Ok, I will pay my check and we go.” Sebastian says.

“What?” you ask.

“What?” he replies. “You heard Robin, if I don’t take you home, I am busted.”

Abigail seems a little uncomfortable on the couch.

“No, you stay with your friends, I can take care of myself.” you say.

“I am sure you can, we all can. But when Robin says something, you better abide by it.” Sebastian says while getting his wallet and heading to the balcony.

“No, wait!” you stop in front of him and he bumps into you, almost falling back.

“Damn, you’re strong.” he whispers rubbing his ribs.

“I will stay for a while more, than. I don’t wanna bother.”

“If you want to go, we will go.” he says, very clearly annoyed.

“No, I will stay!”

“Ok!”

Sam and Abigail glance at each other, confused by the awkward dynamic between the two of you.  

You sit next to Abigail on the couch while Sam and Sebastian play. You can’t bring yourself to playing anymore, your wrists are aching too much now.

“So, why did you come to the valley?” Abigail asks you.

“I... kind of... needed a fresh start.” you reply feeling unease about it.

“Funny, people from here go to the city for a fresh start, you came to the countryside.” she says. “Don’t expect much though. It is very boring here.”

“I hope so...” you say and sigh.

She was very wrong.

Next part here: