#the hero’s shade is a sweetheart and I will take no arguments otherwise

[adrift-in-thyme]

I’m so normal about the fact that the Song of Healing is the first song Shade teaches Link

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Mission of Mercy: Thirty-Six

“Sam,” you call, as he walked through the house from the bathroom, “Make sure none of those knuckle heads throw their back out trying to set up that tripod.”

“On it,” he said, glancing out the Cabin’s screen door to see Joe and Cooksy having a very animated argument about how to set up the aforementioned piece of equipment.

Natasha and Sharon watched him go and Natasha turned back towards you, “Jesus Christ.” You were sweating and Natasha was fairly certain you’d started cooking some time around 5am and hadn’t stopped since. “How?”

You shrug and wipe the sweat out of your eyes with a towel slung over your shoulder, “It used to be my mom, my grandma and I. Then Grandma died and mom stopped coming so…Here we are.”

You’d like to cry. You’re tired and your back hurts and you can feel the muscle cramps from standing in one spot for so long trying to get everything done. But you don’t, you just resume chopping to try and get things on the stove so you can finish things over the fire. Camping is work. Something no one else really seemed to understand.

Sharon drifted out to go be with Sam and you take a deep breath, tossing your knife into the sink with more force than was probably strictly necessary before adding the onions, tomato, and garlic into your waiting, perfectly seasoned cast iron pot.

Natasha squeezed behind you to get to the sink and started washing. She wasn’t entirely sure if you wanted help but. She didn’t blame you for being irritated by the male voices outside bellowing laughter while you were stuck inside trying to feed everyone you’d planned to feed AND the people that had decided to come along.

She couldn’t feel the tension in the air but she’d worked with you long enough to see it ratcheting down on you. It was like someone was twisting a corkscrew down your neck. And she’d be lying if she said it didn’t break her heart a little. She wondered, in the back of her mind, how long it had been like this on these little excursions. And if it was always like this or just the added pressure of having to also feed gods, supersoldiers, and other sundry heros.

______

You stood on the porch watching the goings on for a minute and sighed. There was still cornbread to be made but at least that you could do outside. It was hotter than hell in the kitchen and the breeze off the lake felt like heaven as it cooled the sweat on your forehead. You hefted the pot slightly closer to your body and started down the steps carefully.

“Move,” you snap. You’re hot and this pot is heavy and you really don’t have the patience to be polite and wait for someone to listen to you.

Sam started and pulled Sharon out of your way quickly to let you through and you sigh, starting across the grass to adjust your fire and get the chili on properly. You can feel people watching you and it rankles. Honestly with all the strong ass men that have been drinking and laying around all day, you’d appreciate it if someone would have at least ASKED if you wanted the extra set of hands.

You wrestle the cauldron sized pot into place and wipe your forehead on your forearm, swaying slightly on your feet. “Can someone-” you start the sentence but. You can’t really seem to find the rest of the words. No one’s looking at you. They’ve all gone back to doing… whatever. And all you want to do is cry. There’s still so much left to do. And you realize that if you wanted to work this hard all weekend you could have just stayed home holed up in your office.

But. Your boys like corn bread. And it isn’t their fault that Tony rented out what feels like half the lake. So. You turn and go to get the things you need to make it. Just the way your grandma did. Because she learned from her mom. And so on and so forth. It was the only thing Joe ever asked for and you were going to make sure he got it.

Bucky watched you disappear back into the house and frowned. He’d not seen you all day. Not since you slipped out of bed to make sure Cooksy got his pancakes and there was breakfast waiting on everyone else. But even from a distance, you looked wrecked. And he didn’t miss that you were limping just a little. He wasn’t sure if it was your old injuries or a new one. But he whistled to Lucy all the same and started back up the beach.

_____

He stopped at the kitchen door and watched you for a minute, watching you mix batter and talk to the dog who was sitting very patiently to have her ears rubbed just like she liked.

“Are you having fun?” you ask, kneeling for just a minute to lavish attention on her, “Out there exploring? I’m gonna have to check you for ticks tonight before bed.”

“You okay?” Bucky watched you look up and his stomach twists. You look hot and tired. And even Lucy seems to know that all is not right. Her tail, which usually wags nonstop when you talk to her is still and she’s frantically burrowing into your chest like she can will you into feeling better if she wipes enough eye boogers on your shirt.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, catching yourself on the counter as you waver on your feet trying to stand up straight.

“Now say that and don’t fall over,” he said folding his arms.

“I’m not arguing with you, I’ve got too much to do,” you tell him, pouring batter very carefully into your freshly greased pan.

“Sweetheart,” he started.

He wanted to put an arm around you and make you sit down but when you brush past him, pan in hand, he had no choice but to follow you. And watch as you knelt by your fire to make sure everything was exactly how you wanted it to be.

“Something smells good, kid,” Joe said, lowering himself into a camp chair with a groan

You make a soft sound but otherwise, you don’t answer. It’s still hot, this close to the fire but at least you can feel some of the breeze of the lake at your back. And you’re not standing up. That’s good. Standing hurts. Kneeling like this hurts too but at least it hurts new muscles.

“Cornbread is an art,” you explain to Lucy, scritching her neck.

“Damn straight,” Joe agreed, chuckling when the little dog waddled her way over to investigate her pop up dish for treats.

Bucky came and took a spot on your other side and leaned over to kiss your head. Your hair is damp with sweat and he can see the tremors in your hands when you reach out to carefully adjust pans. “Thirsty?” he asked softly.

“And hot. And hungry. And tired.” you answer.

“Baby-” Bucky starts. But he stops when you shake your head. You don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want anything. You just want to be done. And you want to go home. Bucky gets to his feet and kisses your head again, going to get dishes and find an ice pack to put on your back when you decide to stop being grumpy and let him help you.

By the time the corn bread is all done and the chili has simmered into it’s perfect state, fireflies are drifting over the grass. You straighten up slowly and set the last pan on the wooden table with a clang.

And that’s the last thing you remember.

At least until you roll over and dry heave into the grass for about a minute.

_________

Bucky saw you waver for a second and he’d never been more thankful to be fast in his life. He didn’t quite manage to catch you, but he did manage to keep you from smacking your head on the concrete right behind you.

He isn’t sure who handed him a cold cloth and he honestly doesn’t really care. All he knows is that he’s kicking himself for not sticking closer to the house. And that there are several team mates he’d personally like to strangle.

“Easy,” he cautioned, wiping tears and snot off your face with a clean handkerchief and putting an arm behind your back to help you sit up.

“ ‘m okay,” you protest weakly.

“Get her inside,” Nat said quietly, nudging Bucky. Most of the party hadn’t really seen what happened. And Nat figured you’d probably like it to stay that way.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Bucky murmured, nodding.

You did. Too disoriented and tired to do anything else. And Bucky carried you carefully into the bedroom that you were sharing, laying you on the cot. You whimper just slightly and Bucky takes a second to run practiced hands over your limbs feeling for anything broken.

“Easy,” he repeated, putting a hand on your chest to keep you still. “Someone bring me some cold water. And rags.”

Your skin was the wrong temperature. You were too hot and too cold all at the same time. Heat exhaustion then, not heat stroke, he decided and pressed a kiss against your forehead. “You gotta take it easy,” he scolded gently, taking the ice water and a stack of wash cloths from Joe and Natasha before shooing them out.

__________

Bucky sat on the floor by the bed and watched you sleep, stroking your hair. He was afraid to sleep next to you, worried that you’d get too hot. He hadn’t even wanted to let Lucy sleep with you but the poor puppy had cried like someone was killing her when he shut the bedroom door.

“You’re not doing anything tomorrow,” he muttered. “All you’re gonna do is lay in the shade and watch those chuckle fucks figure out how to feed everyone.”

[middleinthenight21]

Ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

@ravenfan1242  I don't know what I would do without your help.  I have told you. 

You are incredibly beautiful 💕

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

"So funny." Garfield smiled and Raven grimaced.

The demons smiled when they saw that they had lost, and the angels looked away from the pain.

"Why are you with me? "

The phrase came out hard and cold, as if she were asking a criminal why he decided on that life. She was tired and angry, tired of going through the uncertainty that his voice loved her so much and not meeting her expectations, of wondering what would become of Garfield if Terra hadn't died and wanted to get him out of her veins.

She clearly saw the disinterest; it was tattooed on his soul and he did not realize it.

If he gave her a reason to stay ...

Garfield looked up. "Excuse me?"

It's now or never.

"Maybe you should free me." She leaned against the counter. Her hands dug into the soft fabric of her clothing, like an anchor; She hadn't expected her heart to squeeze, she kept screaming, hitting the walls to stop it, but her mind reminded her that she was the girl who survived hell. Gathering her strength "Why are you with me? " She repeated.

Suddenly she's tired of building walls around the relationship to watch them fall repeatedly. She no longer wants to murmur that they are okay with others when they ignored each other, from having rowdy arguments only to end up coming back, offering flowers and hugs, as if that was enough to convince her, she had wasted whole nights trying to square their differences, watching the heavens and whispering to their gods to end all this.

She had been taught in stories that love should hurt, otherwise it wouldn't be worth it in the end. You get to know him, you fall in love, you suffer until you get your happy ending, cost and prize.

Fuck this love.

If he's playing, just let her know.

He sent her a painful look, put his cell phone aside "Rae…"

No, they would not do this again.

She stepped back.

Garfield stood up, smoothing down his pajamas, and for the first time in months she saw him take on a serious expression. He walked slowly, like stepping on needles and spread his hands trying to join them, but she moved away, shaking her head repeatedly.

"I love you. Rae please. " One of his hands caressed her cheek. He brushed her short hair behind her ear. "I love only you. Nobody else. "

She stepped back, pulling his hands away, and muttered, "You know it's not true."

She didn't realize how much it hurt until the words left her mouth. They became a curse, a truth that turned hearts to dust, but for Raven it is not an unusual sensation, more like hearing the last words of a condemned man.

She crossed her arms ignoring his face "We both know this was going to end like this. "

Garfield shook his head and put their foreheads together, she could no longer fight this. She saw his aura weaving into deep blue, a shade she didn't often see, but it wasn't the same as when a certain person died in his arms, it's not that sadness.

It was not the same.

Her green hair was soft, heshe smelled of shampoo made of plants, like a forest, and his breath of milk, like a cat; his hands cupped her cheeks being tender and soft. She almost melted, a part of her wanted to be left alone to receive his attention and affection, it told her stories of how they could rebuild and evolve, she would eat from the leftovers for a while longer until she realized that she is malnourished and sick.

Her father teased her about being too silly, laughed at Garfield and the situation.

"Come on, Raven. I love you and I want to be with you" he said. One of his hands went down to her jaw to trace her neck and settle on the nape of her neck, wanting them to get even closer. "Don't stop this. Don't do this to us. "

She closed her eyes tight.

Get out of this. It's now or never.

She pulled away, denying with a broken voice and tear-clouded eyes. Perhaps this was a weakness, a vicious cycle, for a long time he was her toxin, a drug that was destroying her every day, but she continued to cling to the pleasurable effects, dependence and habit helped her ignore the adverse factors.

Something that made you feel so good couldn't hurt you, right?

"I will not return to the same. We've been like this a long time, Gar" He looked at her; Her green eyes reflecting pain and she swears she'll miss having him so close. "Think about the future, you would be unhappy by my side; be honest you will never love me. We will be miserable together"

"Why are you doing this? "

Why was he acting like it was her fault? He knew what she was talking about, he saw what was hurting them. She gave the final blow, but that fight already started long ago.

The answer was clear "Because I'm not her. "

He stepped back, opening his mouth and closing it, unable to answer. Garfield was hurt, her words were like daggers and she felt terrible, but it is the truth; Raven is not Terra and is exhausted from pretending that he loves her.

For eight months she was a ghost, a specter threatening in the corners, Raven felt her presence unnoticeable in the eyes of the boy who swore he loved her; He was running after someone who would never belong to him and turned his torment on her, carrying her bound in chains with caresses. The chains wouldn't hurt until they hurt her wrists, his caresses turned into pins, and he would never admit that it was his fault.

Okay, she would accept it.

She didn't directly name Terra, but it's not a taboo in her mouth. After two years, the name of the former Titans member still hurt, it was a wound that would never heal for Garfield, perhaps it would live forever, nailed to his bones and running through his veins.

She hit him hard in a vulnerable spot and it felt wrong, like desecrating a holy temple, but she had no other way to show him the truth. Before they were dating, they were friends and Raven ruined everything.

His friendship, his love and companionship.

She bowed her head.

"Hey, sweetheart."

Dick smiles at the door and his girlfriend frowns, realizing something is wrong, but by then Raven is already gone.

A million thoughts go through her mind, like a whirlpool. When she opens the door to the roof of the tower the sky is a thick gray soup, there are no traces of the sun's rays, but the promise of a rain.

*** 

She always returned to Riva Street every time a memory haunted her.

Gotham has the charm of a Francisco de Goya painting, somewhat dark and twisted, it has Wayne Tower, a standard of progress for the city; Raven remembers her open mouth trying to analyze the immensity of the fortune and the power of the millionaire family of the city of the bat, Metropolis shone like the sun in summer, it was beautiful and wide, guarded by the most powerful hero in the world, but not compared to the magnificence of Wayne Tower, the Daily Planet looked like just one more figure blending in with the city, in her time in Azarath she was surrounded by incredible beauty and temples, Jump City was insignificant compared to the places she saw with her eyes, it was a city with the smell of a port, whose inhabitants depended on the coast and tourism.

Gotham has Wayne Tower, Metropolis tot Daily Planet, and Azarath had its temples, but none have Riva Street.

When Raven joined the Titans, she was a hurt and scared girl, who saw deaths, destruction, and dwelt in hell, loving a being who was unable to feel, value, and deserve love, but she had. That was her mistake.

She felt like a stranger, an invisible entity wandering the streets of a foreign city; She looked like a girl, but inside she felt much older. Starfire had shaken her hand, as if she needed a direction, held it so sweetly that she almost cried because she had been stroked long ago with the same kind of love.

Emotions came to her like the wind, it was a strong current that pushed her back almost releasing the hand of the alien princess, but she just whispered that she shouldn’t be scared. Raven had frowned because she probably thought she was shocked by the number of people roaming the streets and that couldn't be further from the truth.

Dick smiled at the scene. Even meters away, she sensed the warmth, how the hero's heart beat strongly, like a horse's trot and almost fell to the melted ground, she believed that it could not be more clear, it was obvious that he wanted the newly baptized leader of the Titans.

She grimaced, wanting to get away from this situation.

Raven did not want this familiarity, she did not deserve it after her choices. Sooner or later it would go wrong, the prophecy was set in stone, it was impossible to erase, and it was the first time that she seriously considered getting lost in the streets and disappearing forever.

Starfire led her by the hand towards a store, eager to try on an outfit she saw on a mannequin, but the girl's vision was focused on an alley, it did not seem part of the city with its buildings and gray streets. It was a corner with the cobblestone floor, small houses painted in different colors, square like match boxes with beautiful terraces adorned with flowers and plants. The restaurants served pizzas, spaghetti and all kinds of typical dishes, people gathered around tables chatting with their friends and families.

She watched people reading, laughing with their children and couples shaking hands.

The aura was tinged with pink, a color that she had never seen before in a concentration that made the sky seem like a sunset.

"If you want, we can go," Dick interjected.

She nodded, showing no emotion.

Years later, she continued to walk down Riva Street, that hidden alley that did not correspond to the city, just like her. Riva street was her, with its relaxed atmosphere, small family restaurants, ice cream parlors and bookstores, it was her secret, nobody knew how much she liked it.

Raven had started and finished books at this place. She created memories, like a buried capsule that few knew about.

It was too intimate.

She knew that her home was with her friends, the people she considers as family, who would die for her and would protect her with their life. It is not a place, but if she would ever settle it would be on this street.

Raven would lease an apartment on Riva Street, perhaps on the second floor of that bookstore with the unpronounceable name that specializes in classics and mystery novels; She would have a cat or dog as a pet who would walk by her side, read on the benches and it would feel great. She would rebuild her relationship with herself.

It was a nice dream.

She sat in a chair waiting for her coffee.

She took the book out of her bag. The first edition of The Raven glowed with its worn cover, it had become a symbol, a sign that her feelings must be thrown away in the trash, the moment she realized it and ran a hand over the object, stroking the bird image.

She frowned.

Her heart gave a painful beat, but she was not ill. She had been through this situation before; She knew this emotion and she was not going to allow it to continue.

How did it make a difference if she started liking him or it was dumb confusion at a low time?

Not that she had much experience around relationships. Her previous relationship was living proof, since then she had made a calculation, perhaps the outcome was not entirely her fault, but Raven tended to cling to people who would never feel the same way about her, loved and hoped they would return it. Her father, her demonic brothers, Garfield ...

Damian would only be one more number on her list. He was already having a bad time for her to have confusion, he didn't need any more drama in his life, where did she come in? Raven was going to destroy their relationship, she had to end it all.

It hadn't been long since she had ended it with Garfield, this couldn't happen to her now. It was just a passing taste, a flutter, and it would go away, like a butterfly.

Did her heart so quickly forget about Beast Boy? She almost shook her head, her words still got stuck when she saw him and she wished that she would confess the truth to him., Give a better explanation of why she abandoned him, because she left him before he did and left him pained on the sidewalk, but it is different, it is that kind of affection accompanied by bad memories, the one that asks for an apology and demands it.

With Damian it's different, it was stupid of him ...

She couldn't help but feel terrible. She felt like a bad person, wanting a friend was the worst thing that could happen to her. She had seen him for years as her best friend, they helped each other when they collapsed due to some circumstance and boy, they had., They talked about books and movies, they could sit down; share a tea and chat about a period of history. With Damian and she would respond with the same interest.

Random, she was going to ruin everything.

Don't feel, she told himself. Don't start, if you do you will want more. You are not that kind of girl.

He deserved a young daughter from a wealthy family, a Gotham princess, and even a model. If they didn't notice her best friend because of his attractiveness, they would because of what he represents. She heard that such powerful family practice was usual (like a novel), although she couldn't imagine Bruce Wayne agreeing with that.

Raven was but a half-breed, half human and demon; someone who was unaware of many terrestrial customs, an anonymous name that was forged from the depths of hell. An abomination, a protégé, destruction and the girl who became a hero hidden under a hood.

A strange sensation invaded her body, as if someone or something was watching her. The air was a mix of pink and green, which she had seen in few people; It is not a secret that Raven can see the aura, they would normally be tinted red, yellow, blue, purple to gold, but green was difficult to find.

She had only seen this shade of green on one person.

"Blessed chance."

She looked up, suppressing a shiver. Out of sheer inertia the book slid forward, almost ripped it from her fingers, and a chill ran through her entire spine, like a fleeting fire; appeared and left instantly.

What was he doing here?

If it wasn't for the voice, she wouldn't recognize him. Damian Wayne stood next to her with dark glasses over his eyes, a thin white scarf with black patterns, and his usual black t-shirt folded neatly to the elbows.

Titus appeared with his tongue sticking out, apparently tired and when he became aware of her presence, he approached flapping his tail. She smiled at the emotion of the dog and stroked him, he licked her hand up to her arm.

He sat down in a chair in front of her. She was surprised to see him leave the tower, since the drama on social networks he had not wanted to pronounce on anything with any of his identities.

Batman, the Justice League, and the Titans suggested solutions, from official statements to videos giving their reasons, but he dismissed it with one hand and focused on training. He didn't do any more, locked himself in and improved his techniques (in her opinion, he didn't need it), now he was he, in front of her showing most of his face.

Maybe Damian got tired, he was an active person, she was pretty sure that in the time they met  didn't see a single day of laziness, he kept his hands busy; When he was not on patrol, he trained, when he did not train, he devoted himself to research, or he cleaned the room, sharpened his weapons, or contacted Wayne Manor asking for an update on the events there.

"You must keep an eye on your enemies as well as your allies"

"We are talking about your family, Damian" she replied.

"It does not matter"

She raised an eyebrow "I would ask you about the scarf, but I don't want to insult your taste."

"This scarf is made to make me invisible to the cameras."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. Damian wouldn't appreciate laughter at his expense but she found it funny.

"Like a superpower?"

He rolled his eyes.

"It was designed by ..." He looked at the table, more specifically at the book interrupting what he was going to say. His eyes traveled from the object to Raven, as if trying to square two different things in a single scene and she never wanted to take it out of her bag. "It's from an online store” he corrected himself. " Now his voice was much more comfortable. "Many celebrities use it to make it impossible for paparazzi to take photos. "

She thought about it.

People had calmed down a bit, basically because Robin disappeared assigning missions in remote places, what surprised her most was that he did not protest. At first she had believed that negativity did not affect him, that he would turn off all opinions and focus on himself, but Damian had acted like a wounded animal, every time a camera pointed at his face he transformed into a more sullen version., He bit with his words when talking about his reputation and he left the Titans to be seen only in short periods of the day.

She had not seen him in a week.

"I didn't know you knew this place."

For a long time, she thought that Riva street was hers. It is not a crowded place, when you compete against luxury shops, festivals and fairs, a cobbled street taken from an old movie is not a great novelty.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Grayson said they wouldn't harass me here."

"Dick?"

Shrugged.

His shoulders had widened, and his muscles were protruding under the thin fabric, she was jealous that the material would embrace him highlighting the perfection of his body. His tanned skin darkened over the years from exposure to unprotected sunlight, he was strong, and he was acquiring new scars.

She looked at his hands, a collection of scars like silver threads running through his fingers, one of them going through his wrists. She wanted to know what had happened, to ask if it was hurting from the cold and if it really led the other way.

It was like a faded flower imprinted on his skin. A scar is a patch of skin that grows on a wound, insensitive to touch, but would he feel anything if she touched it?

Do not start.

"He named this street." Damian didn't seem very impressed, although his expressions are difficult to read. At first she found this frustrating, it reminded her of Batman's aura, a cloud that could not fade to see the true color, but his son was a green color like his eyes, but his exterior had been sculpted based on hard training, emotional manipulation, control and pain. The green is dull now, like dried moss. “He promised me that no one would bother me.”

She looked at the scarf.

"So that's just as a precaution and ... "

She was interrupted by the waiter carrying her coffee, a donut dusted in sugar and the house specialty, some delicious focaccias. She felt the tug of hunger in her stomach as the smell of olive and spices reached her nose.

Damian frowned.

"What? " She took a sip of the coffee; the drink was at its perfect point. The Costa restaurant is small, rustic with that stone façade and the chairs made of hand-carved wood; she felt the urge to defend it. "Yes, it is…"

"I didn't say anything." He grimaced. He would say it "I was just wondering why you were so quiet and serious in the Tower, while here you show more emotion to that donut than to the Titans,” he said.

He put the coffee aside.

He was right.

"You too have been silent."

Damian crossed his arms supporting his back. Titus played around a fountain, drinking the water and letting some children caress him, from here she felt the laughter and affectionate names that were dedicated to him and the animal bathed with love, its owner almost smiled. Almost.

Right now, he looks like he's getting his weapons ready for battle, his expression was determined and wild, and he must ...

"Is it because of Garfield?"

She steps back, and a bucket of cold water falls on her body.

"What? "

Uncertainty passed over her face and hardened her.

Why was he doing this? Raven sees a feeling, believes her powers have touched him, and would go deep, but instantly he blocks it entirely, his emotions and feelings painted under a dark canvas. He left her blind, only believing that her had the confidence to reveal a portion of himself.

She was surprised that he named her former partner, since he did not express interest in their relationship. Damian was non-sentimental; He would probably scoff at the honeyed explanations his older brother so badly wanted to get into his head; Jason would have a dirtier one, full of inordinate sex and add treason to it, just for the drama; Tim would give a talk about the chemical processes that were triggered when someone liked you, but he was not interested, he saw it as a necessity, a small distraction in his eternal crusade.

"Did you finish?"

As if that would explain everything, but what if it did? After the breakup with Garfield, she plunged into meditation, turning off her father's voice, but it followed her everywhere, repeating what she really was.

She became like thorns. If someone got close enough, they would only get a prick, there were no flowers in the first season or leaves in the summer, so she kept herself alone and promised that she would not be touched.

Garfield's face turned into punishment, if only she hadn't hurt him. It was too late, she is alert when he is close and knows why.

She really understood it.

Damian looked her in the eye. "I know it was a difficult breakup."

She looked down.

"It was. "

She did not lie, there was no need. Her affirmation was like a consolation, she just needed to let him go.

"I'm sorry. "

She raised her head. She never heard Gotham's bat son apologize to anyone, those phrases were not in his mouth, his tone was soft, like calm after a storm.

She smiled.

They shared a long look. At first, he looked serious, despite not wearing his Robin mask it felt like an eye mask, hiding the true emotion reflected in his eyes.

Damian smiled.

A dimple left on his cheek, and wrinkles formed around his eyes, making them look smaller, his expression softened, as if he had never been through torment. It was unlike any other smile she had ever seen, it was not arrogant, nor of victory or conceit; This was not the trained assassin destined to turn the world into a dystopia, he was not the angry and vengeful boy struggling to find a place next to his father, emerging as Robin, he was not the son of a famous billionaire, nor the hero that everyone hated, but Damian. It was soft and beautiful.

The first time he saw a genuine Damian Wayne smile was on Riva Street.

So, she knew she made a mistake and would never see Riva Street the same way. This street had represented intimacy, the beginnings and ends of novels, the best coffee she had ever tasted, flavors that she had not tried before, reflections and the smile on someone's lips. He had become entangled in her soul, the memories lost relevance compared to this moment and a feeling of fear of loss settled in her stomach, like a blow.

The story ends. Now.

Raven's smile disappeared from her face.

*** 

Raven had come up the stairs when the sun was barely caressing the mountains, a blanket hanging from her shoulders, a steaming tea floating behind her, and a book under her arm.

The roof of the Tower of the Titans gave a general view of the city. The blowing of the wind was strong, charging from the north, the color-degraded sky and a handful of stars remained in the sky.

Seagulls flew around the construction, squawking as if announcing the start of the day. The air was frozen, like sticking her head into a refrigerator and her nose was kissed by the cold.

Years ago, she read here, with the tranquility and amazement at dawn. Normally, the tower was full of noise, screaming, and disorder, making it impossible to read and struggling to find solitude around seven quirky teens, plus an alien princess with a tendency to incinerate food and her boyfriend with a highly activated parental sense.

It was a strange combination, but it works.

She sat on the floor wrapping the blanket around her shoulders holding back a shiver, sipped a shot of green tea, and watched the sunrise, amazed by the colors.

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

The pad of her fingers caressed the illustration, noticing the relief and ink of the illustration of the egg sitting on a wall with little Alice watching.

"Do you think it will disappear if you don't take it?"

Damian sat still in Robin's uniform; his face shows cuts and the purple colors began to manifest in the high point of his left cheek.

"What happened? "

"Patrol. "

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Always so expressive.

She watched him "You look tired. "

He snorts, but doesn't contradict her, and that's a confirmation. Damian had been behind a gang of robbers, and was recently called by Batman while away for two weeks; Photos surfaced in magazines and on social media about the charity event bringing the family together in honor of Martha Wayne, without However, if Bruce Wayne summoned him it would not be solely for that, the vigilante was having to contain the Joker.

Raven knew that it required the whole family.

When Damian arrived, he was angry and spent all his time on patrol, so he was living with his brothers and he needed to get rid of the teasing, arguments and annoyance.

Three days later she has him in front of her with his legs trembling and sweat dripping down his forehead.

"You should sleep," she recommended.

He clicks his tongue and his chest rises and falls. "When I was seven years old, I was awake for four days, just feeding on the vegetation of the place and the river water. This is nothing to me. "

She imagines a child abandoned in the middle of the forest, hungry and starving. It doesn't seem like an achievement.

She grimaces.

"What? "

She chose not to express it. He could take it as a criticism, or get irritated., Damian is not known for his tolerance of others' arguments, especially when it comes to his past, and equally who is she to argue about his story?

"Nothing. "

She reread the book.

All the king's horses

And all the king's men

Couldn't put Humpty

Together again.

"It's one of my favorite rhymes," he declares sleepily.

Raven grimaces.

He is looking at her, his eyes struggle to close, and she can see the struggle to stay seated… If only he wasn't so proud.

An impulse makes its way inside her and she thinks of the teenager who gave her a book. The one who appeared on Riva Street accompanied by his pet, who spoke about poetry and rhymes when tiredness is about to knock him down. She takes off the mask, it is soft and almost feels like a mass in her hands, he protests, but he is are just babbling.

"I'm going to hit Drake and-" "He can't tell enough; his head falls and heshe straightens his brow several times. Raven almost smiled. "Father and… They almost kidnapped Grayson…" He tries to formulate a complete sentence, but the voice simply leaves him. Before he falls to the floor, she gently grabs his arm and helps him lie down on the floor and balls her blanket into a pillow. "I like rhymes. "

Laughter echoes off the roof.

"Are you always so chatty in the morning?"

He growls.

"I must have a poem around here." She opened the book. 

It is right in there

Betwixt and between

The orchard bare

And the orchard green,

When the boughs are right

In a flowery burst

Of pink and white,

That we fear the worst.

She took a breath to read the next paragraph when she was interrupted.

"Peril of Hope. Robert Frost. "

A memory greets her after years. When the world was almost over and her father had been inserted into the glass, she felt his stench emanating from that smallness, his power and evil in her palm, she could not be careless and silly like the last time; the world did not deserve destruction and her friends almost died, she agreed to stay in hell to protect them, but he convinced her as best he could, citing poetry by Robert Frost.

"You are full of surprises."

That permanent frown disappeared, and he buried his face in the blanket, closing his eyes.

She plunged into uncertainty for a few minutes.

She watched him sleep, muttering that she is not that girl and she would not fall so easily.

She drank her tea in one gulp.

He woke up an hour later, muttering and staggering to his room, he didn't go out all day.

Raven devoted herself to meditation, while Starfire and Dick trained together.

She could feel eyes from the other side of the room, even without opening her eyes she knew who it was. From a few meters she identified that aura and presence, the colors of his soul were a deep yellow like sand.

Garfield watched her apprehensively, as if aware of an unknown detail.

Her insides twisted like a worm, wanting to take his eyes off her. She just wants to push him away.

*** 

The next morning Robin appears on the roof, the next and subsequent.

Damian was there, she would have a new book waiting and she would feel that it became her new religion; They were like little children who shook their shoulders and tried to learn something new.

They don't talk much.

Raven drank her tea bathed in the rising rays of the sun behind the mountains, the wind would blow her hair in different directions and she would be covered by her thick blanket. She absorbed the silence when she watched him read Walt Whitman, Charles Dickens and Herman Melville after a night patrol where he hid from the eyes of the people.

No one has seen Damian Wayne in a month.

Robin is a vigilante who takes refuge in smoke and on missions with the Titans, would participate and walk away.

’’ Doesn't it bother you? ’” She asked one day pushed by bravery. Since the cancellation he was reserved, fleeing from the great masses and behaving like an invisible entity.

He didn't look up from his reading. "What are you talking about?"

’’ The hatred of people on the internet ’’

He frowned, processing her words. "The opinions of the despicable sheep are not worth it."

"You should print it on a card."

He smiled ‘’ ’I'm not an influencer, not a celebrity, Raven. I am a vigilante and did not need third party validation… I would just like to have privacy ’’

Raven understood that.

*** 

That morning it felt strange, like when you have a lump in your throat that is about to give way.

Damian had not returned for three days as he was on a mission with his brothers. Therefore, there were no conversations on the roof, books and herbal tea, lunches on Riva street and she realized how much she missed him. They did not spend all day together, she did not think about him for more than an hour, but she settled into her routine with those small and significant moments, they were pieces of her days that won against vacillations.

She was longing for more.

No one had to know.

In front of the Titans, two colleagues behaved as common as ever; there was a tacit agreement of silence between them. She discovered that she liked it that way. That she wanted that privacy, she said nothing, but she knew that for Damian's public life it is complicated that whatever they had was captured by a camera and exposed, stabbing the secret. Raven did not want to meet her face in teen magazines, or that they speculated around who she is, if she valued ​​anything in her civil identity, it gave her a sense of normality.

Raven was terrified; her father's voice followed her every morning as she made her tea in the kitchen before going up to the roof. He brought back memories of her previous relationship, distant and sad green eyes, which made her feel so good she wouldn't have to tear him apart. With each fight she had a reason to leave Garfield and there were many, and she didn't want him anymore.

She knew he would never do anything to hurt her, she knew his heart and his intentions, but love can make you see roses instead of thorns. She only knew love in poems, books and performances, they said that love is a brilliant thing, but it is ardent. She always tried to see herself through the eyes of another person, it made her feel less dirty and that there was this story where after suffering there is a person waiting, with her heart in one hand and a smile painted on her face, like a pink brushstroke.

Maybe it only works on humans.

Now she thought that love was a golden cage, that makes you feel that you live in luxury and have all the comforts of the world, but you cannot go out without a fight, without facing the person who made you forget about yourself.

Her father was no longer using insults to destabilize her, he became crueler bringing memories that she was fighting to bury. It led her to the frustration, heartbreak, and anger she felt after the discussions, her mind formulating justifications and judgments, and her breakup.

Standing in the kitchen praying because she was doing well, not regretting and avoiding remembering this as a big one: what if?

She knew that it was her father taking advantage of her fear, but she could not help thinking that it was much better to look the truth in the eyes and that part of her is happy that Damian is not there.

She hoped that it would take him long enough to forget his smile, burn his presence on Riva Street and go up to the roof watching the sunset reading in silence, without feeling that something is missing. She felt he was getting under her skin, between the cuts of her past with something she has not known and does not know how to fight it; Damian takes what he wants, his defense mechanisms react in time.

She expects him to stay away days, weeks, months, and even years.

I am the only thing you have, ungrateful girl. I'm the only one who stays.

She growled and murmured a quick spell, dulling his voice.

She realized that she doesn't just want to have her father as her company, she still has friends who show her love, and they don't care about her love life just because of her condition. That thought brings her peace.

Raven lit the kettle. It is still night when she creeps into the kitchen in her pajamas, and the thin blanket around her shoulders like a makeshift cloak; she needed a tea to fully wake up, she still felt the tiredness in her body and her eyes closed when she leaned on the table.

She was ready to watch the sunrise alone and considered going back to sleep. With or without Damian it had become a habit, it was her, what did she gain by clinging as if he were an extension? She was sure that Damian would not like someone to consider him that way, she was also finished with that topic. She was better alone.

Someone cleared his throat.

She felt hesitation and fear. She turned, watching Garfield stand at the kitchen door, hesitating instead, as if fighting to run away or stay.

A heart beats.

It is like rereading a book with an unhappy ending, she had seen this a million times. She had already given up, but he came back every time she was healing and would be weak to fall under his love, as if that would fill her, even so, she felt that the end point had already been written.

She filled her cup with hot water "I left you the rest of the water, if you want. "

"Raven," Garfield scratches his hair, unsure. His head was down. "Can we talk? "

She shook your head.

"I woke up at five in the morning with a purpose." His eyes are marked by dark circles and puffy from lack of sleep. She gives in (just a little). "It will be a moment. "

The young woman sat down at the table holding her breath. Her hands traveled to the cup embracing the warmth, and she begged all the gods and spirits of Azarath not to end up in the same place as a month ago.

Aisha, the spinning spirit of Azarath's love and suffering is laughing at her. The monks illustrated her as a lonely old woman who lives in the high mountains, where the sun always shines, pulling the strings of love from mortals and immortals. She is temperamental, if she thought you were good, she could entangle your thread of love with others the easy way, her fingers would do the braid with details, but if she decided that you didn't deserve it, then she would make a tangle between love and suffering, condemning another innocent person; her tutors were afraid of her, they thought they had to atone for any offense against the spirit. She thinks Aisha hates her.

She remained silent, and inert.

The silence is uncomfortable, it keeps and brings conversations, memories and secrets.

"I'm sorry. "

He Frowned.

Raven raised an eyebrow, still surprised by what heshe was saying. On more than one occasion she imagined that at some point he would apologize, but she did not expect his voice to break, to feel the pain reflecting on his face.

She did not know what to say. She was never good at sharing her feelings.

He probably already knew that.

"I was a terrible boyfriend," he said. She is empathetic so she feels his conflicting emotions, but one of them predominates more than the others: Guilt. "You didn't deserve it."

She is about to speak, but he interrupts her with his hands up: "Let me finish, please" He keeps his eyes down. Her hands play with a napkin, folding and spreading the paper. "I wasted what we had. Don't think I didn't love you, in fact I did. I wish I could have loved you better. " He shrugs "I hurt you. "

She grimaced.

Beast Boy pursed his lips "Now you keep your guard high when I'm around you and I know why. I'm sorry for so many things and I understand if you don't want to have anything to do with me" His hands tremble. "Before we were dating, we were friends and I didn't think about you. I just want you to know that I come back to those mornings every day and I feel horrible about how I behaved. You didn't deserve everything I threw at you when you tried, the arguments, I ignored you for days to come back to your door asking for a chance and you forgave me. I really understand yes ... "

Before we were dating, we were friends ...

I'm the only thing you have, ungrateful girl.

She takes his hand, this time there are no artificial lights or contempt "I forgive you. "

Raven really says it. She does not want to live alone having her father as a constant, it would be a sad constant and now he is angry, insulting her and screaming because she is weak, gullible and stupid, yet she smiles.

He opens and closes his mouth, surprised "Really? "

She nods "It's not like I have any other choice, we live in the same place. "

Garfield laughs and exhales a big breath, touches his chest feeling his heart and snorts "God, I thought you were going to hate me. Maybe you would curse me for all eternity. "

She rolled her eyes.

"Maybe I will…"

"Let's be friends again!" He dances around the kitchen, ignoring her words. He turns to yellow and white again. "It's cool, baby. "

Raven stands up, deciding it's too much. She embraced the book and used her powers to make the cup levitate with her footsteps.

"You are so loud."

He is smiling.

She walks to the kitchen door to watch the sunrise, but he knocks on it and she turns around.

"What wrong? "

“You deserve someone who reads Shakespeare or something like that with you and kisses the ground where you step," Garfield smiles. "You may be half demon and your father is a monster, but not everything has to be suffering. Love is not pain, Rae. "

Again, she doesn't know what to say or do, so she nods.

When she leaves the kitchen, she realizes that the lump in her throat that she has been holding since she got up, no longer exists. She feels light, like dropping a load and all the bumps, cuts and infections are healing.

She still has her struggles but abandoning one she did not collapse. Sometimes getting rid of one makes the bag not explode.

She needed that talk.

She needed to let it go completely.

As she climbs the stairs to the roof, she feels the rays of the sun entering from the open door, the light wind on her face and the squawk of seagulls, agitated in the sky that is a beautiful combination of pinks, blues and golds.

Her steps are delicate, like the fall of a feather and she thinks of the crow as more than a bird that predicts tragedies, or its black feathers the consequence of the wrath of a god.

When she opens the door, she holds her breath. Sitting on the floor writing on a pad is Damian, dressed in his civilian clothes and a bruise above his eyebrow, he carries a coffee and frowns every time he sips his drink.

His hands are quick on the sheet of paper.

She didn't know he would be here; thought he’d be away for a couple more days.

"You are late. "

She does not answer.

"Selina had a daughter."

She raises her eyebrows.

"I thought your father had more than one girlfriend." Damian looks up for the first time. He frowns. "You know, Playboy. "

So, it wasn't just a mission with his brothers, the Bat family just got bigger. Honestly, she thought the world couldn't take another Wayne, but she was wrong.

He does not say anything.

Raven sits on the ground next to him, keeping her distance.

"How are you with the arrival of the new member? "

"Good. "

Oh.

"Congratulations. "

They remain silent and she thinks that is all the information that she is going to be able to obtain from Damian. She opens her poetry book right where she leaves the separator, which consists of a withered sheet.

"My father is happy, even if he doesn't say it" He continues writing, only this time it is slower. The pen in his hand runs smoothly, as if reflecting. "I thought Selina would be a strumpet, that she would give him carnal relief and then leave, but my father seems… comfortable. Dick says it makes him less intense. "

Dick.

For Azarath, Dick must be overflowing with joy.

"How is she? "

Damian grimaces.

"Pink. "

She laughs "Yes, I suppose all the babies at the beginning are. "

"Helena is small, like really small, so much so that my father fears that she will break if one of us carries her." When she is not crying, she is sleeping or eating" he pauses. "Selina says the first few months will be like this. "

She Smiled.

"What? " He asks defensively.

"You like her. "

He rolled his eyes.

"To be honest, my chips were on the end of their relationship, but she stayed." He shrugs. Damian makes it look like an unlikely result in an equation. "Drake and Grayson won. I suppose I are well. I can do nothing but endure. "

Raven laughs.

"It's not funny." His tone is not angry, he doesn't turn that red warning tone and she knows that everything is fine.

She looks down at the book and takes a sip of her tea.

She looked at Damian, who continued writing in his notebook; The sun's rays bathed his face, his skin is tan, and his green eyes roam the notebook, concentrating on whatever he wants to capture.

She closes your eyes and feels the taste of herbs in the mouth.

She feels his shoulders collide with her, it's a warm and dangerous pressure. Each of her molecules asks for more, and she shouldn't be allowing this, but she doesn't pull away, nor does she stop her heart from running wild.

No one has heard from Robin in two months and the internet is focused on the following drama.

Damian Wayne allows himself to be photographed, but the paparazzi are not interested in selling photos of a scarf to the big gossip magazines, so they disappear little by little.

Raven left a relationship behind and hesitantly asks: What is it about him here?  

It is at this moment that he realizes that, if she bleeds, he would be the last to know.

[thefudge]

scattered thoughts on sanditon so far 

this is a fun romp from andrew davies and there’s a lot to like and be invested in

but i do have some observations/ gripes

obviously davies is going for a modern/sexed up adaptation of austen and i have mixed thoughts on that, cuz there’s a lot of interesting stuff you can do with that, but you can also botch it up big time (i’m glad he didn’t do this to p&p back in 1995...i wonder what that adaptation would’ve looked like today. probably full monty darcy, lol). so i think some elements verge on the ridiculous, for instance having almost every dude in this show strip naked in front of a crowded beach several times in a row. ditto for theo james. i don’t mind the view (hehe) but i think it’s inserted awkwardly at times. like okay, we get it, it’s a beach resort and we’re trying to make austen edgy in 2019.... just maybe indulge a little less and literally keep it in your pants. 

this being a more modern adaptation i don’t mind hair and make-up anachronisms, but i DO mind the fact that rose williams sports this really weird shade of fuchsia lipstick in almost every single scene. stop iiiit

speaking of which, rose williams is a cutie and i loved her on reign, but i don’t understand what she’s doing with her face in this series. don’t get me wrong, she does a good job of making charlotte very likable, but the only way she can express...anything, really, is by making these confused faces, like a child practicing frowning in the mirror. it’s...really awkward. and she does this all the time, whether she’s happy or sulky or nervous, she just always looks like she’s trying to figure out the fibonacci sequence.  i mean it’s hilarious when u have theo james going all gruff to her about his feelings and rose williams is that gif of the blond lady doing math in her head. her acting is pretty good otherwise, but those faceeeees.

esther denham is my goddamn FAVE, gosh i love a Disappointed Queen and i’m glad she’s getting away from that boring skeevy brother. for once the incestuous siblings didn’t do it for me at all (which is pretty much the point lol). there’s nary a dude more uninteresting than edward whatshisface, my gaaaawd (also, davies trying to ramp up the sexiness with those scenes of edward brushing her hair or doing her stays...lol, sir, this rly isn’t your strength i’m sorry)

but i have to say that i thought esther and clara would be a thing. because my gosh, the chemistry during their scenes! the way they’d glide past each other with utmost contempt, while being disquieted by each other @___@. i mean it’s an austen adaptation, so i guess they’d never go there but!!! i need fic (would’ve made clara more bearable at least. i appreciate her character objectively cuz she’s an interesting pseudo-antagonist and you don’t get many of those, but blerghh. she was insufferable)

i was kinda (actually very) disappointed that the relationship between sidney and his ward, georgiana, wasn’t really developed. like there’s one more episode to go (as far as i know?) and they’ve barely scratched the surface with them. i mean he’s halfway decent to her now.... but ehh. i feel like this was a missed opportunity. after all, this was austen’s unfinished novel, so andrew davies & co could have added more material between these two. this, to me, should have been the real heart of the series. 

i like otis as a character, but georgiana/otis was zzzzzz. i suppose that they’ll end up together? zzzzzzzzzz (i frankly ship her way more with arthur! she finds him infuriating! he’s a sweetheart! the shenanigans!)

that German doctor is the real MVP, i feel like he should be sanditon’s no. 1 bachelor. i mean the shower rod??? providing pleasure to all the ladies in town, what a hero 

the soundtrack is rly rad! and the cinematography

i love how the show captures austen’s growing interest in the industrialized modern world which was emerging in the twilight years of the regency and i feel like maybe the show should’ve invested more time in that modern aesthetic (steampunk!) rather the awkward sexual shenanigans 

so....i can’t delay the inevitable anymore, can i? sigghh okay here i go

sidney/charlotte...annoys me. 

HEAR ME OUT.

 u know that i love LOVE “enemies to lovers” and hate/love stories, i LIVE FOR THIS SHIT. 

and i was ready to gorge on this dynamic because it looked delish 

 but i felt like michael bluth finding the dead pigeon in the paper bag. 

from what i can gather, sidney is supposed to be a mixture of darcy and capt wentworth, “haughty” and proud, with a history of romantic disappointment, a brooding sexy hero with a heart of gold. but to me this dude just comes off as weird. 

there’s legit no reason for him to be THIS mean to this young girl he just met. he is not just an asshole, he is ridiculously over the top about it, to the point where he makes a fool of himself. i am FINE with a man telling a woman off, believe me, but it has to have some kind of motivation, some kind of reasoning behind it. here, it just feels like the plot needs him to be utterly shitty to charlotte so that “sparks will fly”. that first ep convo on the balcony??? wtf???? it was genuinely bizarre. i got weird incel vibes. and every time he lashes out at charlotte (at least in the first 4 episodes) it’s fucking silly, because it’s not like he lashes out because she’s scratching the surface of his innermost painful memories. no!!! many of their arguments revolve around basic things that he could easily clarify!!! which he does eventually, so like whyyyyyyyyyy. charlotte keeps telling him he’s being vague for no good reason and he still does it. it doesn’t make sense he’d be this guarded and outspoken at the same time. like, fine, keep that shit to yourself, don’t tell ppl, but don’t also get pissed at them when they don’t guess your mind. again, i love an antagonist dynamic when it’s done right, but here many times it’s just pointless bullying, it’s not sexy or fun or challenging. the writers keep making charlotte apologize to him about how “wrong” she got him and how he makes her doubt her judgement but it sounds fake to me. like a) this dude went out of his way to be a total assface to you from day one, b) none of that bullying was him trying to coax you into having a more complicated view of the world. when darcy rebukes elizabeth, he is hinting at her limited point of view. he’s not blatantly negging her or calling her stupid as this dude does. AND U KNO WHAT.

i’d be absolutely fine with him calling her stupid IF IT MADE SENSE WITHIN THE STORY 

like if charlotte had truly done smth stupid during the first episode, sure, fine, it’s somewhat warranted 

but for him to decide she’s an idiot for no other reason than her making some honestly super nice remarks about his brothers when he asked for her opinion is THE HEIGHT OF NONSENSE 

it’s even more nonsense when 2 episodes later he decides maybe she’s not that dumb after all FUCK U MR. EDGELORD

and it makes me pity charlotte cuz she’ll probably marry this dude and have to deal with him in his old age when he’ll be even more insufferable. 

and i totally get the appeal. i do! i mean their scenes are manufactured to make you want more of them, i see the chemistry, it’s there (and we’re already at a point in the series where he’s trying to make amends) but at the same time i’m put off by this dude’s intensity, cuz it’s not the hot kind of intensity...it’s more like he’s a giant dumb baby who breaks things. meh. theo james is very pretty tho, and he is doing the most with his character (that voice def helps!). but i wish this antagonistic relationship had been written better, because it could’ve been glorious

this is why i think sidney/georgiana should’ve been so much more present. just like darcy has his georgiana we need the humanizing element, we need to see more variety from this dude than just “guy who clearly needs anger management classes”. 

i’m pretty sure i’m in the minority or possibly one of two ppl not won over by this romance, and i can’t lie and say i don’t root for them. too much of this show is predicated on their clashes for them not to work it out and get together, but boyyyy do i wish they’d done it a bit better

i almost feel like a reylo anti lol, but at least kylo ren doesn’t neg rey every single time they talk 

also, i go back to rose williams’ faces because they just rly enhance how clumsy this dynamic is. theo james is doing byronic asshole 2.0 and charlotte looks at him like he’s developed a smell lmao. i mean the scene where she catches him naked? she turns around and FROWNS in this rly bizarre way, almost like she noticed a growth on his dick lmao it’s that bad 

anyway i totally get the appeal, but i also know what i want from this kind of dynamic and...this ain’t quite it 

honestly i think i prefer charlotte/cute architect guy whose name i don’t remember right now! 

that being said, my fave moments of this show are the most austen-esque, where ppl don’t take themselves so seriously. i mean the adventures of the perennially-ailing parker siblings (arthur & diana)? deeeelightful. the pineapple scene? glorious

also it makes me sad that sanditon was left unfinished because to see austen tackling georgiana’s character in depth would have been so, so interesting 

in conclusion, the show’s a lot of fun but also frustrating in many ways

i hope davies doesn’t set his eyes on re-adapting p&p or other austen classics because ermmm i know i’m trash but i am kind of tired of these sexed-up “look how scandalous we are behind closed doors” adaptations. you can make the regency era feel modern and relatable without “shocking hand job in the estate park” pls and thank u. sure, the regency era was the inheritor of the sexually relaxed 18th-century, but it wasn’t that relaxed yall. ppl still kept their wits and bonnets about them.

still, i’m glad this show exists and that it tries to take risks, i just wish it took different kinds of risks, if that makes sense. like i am SO bummed i didn’t get into sidney/charlotte, u have no idea 

[theknittingwizard-blog]

Some unusual facts about mice

I’ve caught 5 mice in my bathroom in the last month and have learned some interesting facts about the little creatures that I thought you might find intriguing, my dear @thenoodlesqueen @thedisappointedidealist12 and @unsurprisinglycannibalshark  

Our story begins with our hero, my landlord, whose kenning shall be FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER heretofore. FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER was a good and just landlord. He did not waste his time with trifles like replacing the 12-year-old mattresses or the suspiciously stained couch or the broken vertical blinds or the strange smells coming from the food disposal. No, instead FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER chose a more pressing problem to address: removing and replacing the entire microwave oven with a new one because part of the handle had broken off. FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER only wanted the best for his tenants, my roommate whom we shall call ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART SOCIAL WORK MAJOR, and myself (the one bitching on tumblr at 1am about how fucking hard it is being a white first-world college student living in an off-campus apartment her parents are paying for) whom we shall aptly call FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT. 

Now that we have introduced our cast of characters, I shall begin the epic. (ARMA VIRUMQUE CANO and all that lovely other muse-invoking shit.) 

FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER arrived at his feudal lands (my shitty apartment complex) bright and early one Saturday morning at about 9am. FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT was somewhat perturbed to be awakened from her melatonin-tablet-induced slumber by the serene sounds of FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER violently blasting the apartment walls with his mighty powerwasher, but she eventually dragged her lazy ass out of bed and had a healthy breakfast of reheated pizza (using the aforementioned new microwave) while watching Sherlock on Netflix. She didn’t really need to sleep in anyway, FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER was on an important mission to beautify the apartment, after all. When it came time for FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER to powerwash the inside of FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT’s patio (if you don’t mind defining “patio” as a 10 by 5 foot rectangular area surrounded by a mouldering fence and completely shaded by the second floor’s “patio” so that the vile sun never touches the impeccable concrete), FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER knocked on FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT’s door and marched out onto her patio, opened the sliding door, and powerwashed the absolute shit out of that patio so thoroughly that mysterious puddles were later found on FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT’s floor. (Remember that he opened the sliding door. This will become a crucial plot point later on in our epic tale.) 

A week went by and all was well in the feudal lands. Until one fateful day when FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT was sitting on her toilet doing what one typically does while sitting on a toilet. She squinted her sans-glasses eyes at a strange creature scurrying towards her. Was it an… oddly grey roach? Some type of fuzzy...HOLYFUCKINGFUCKETYFUCKTHATSAFUCKINGMOUSEMOTHERFUCKINGFLYINGFUCKERY. 

FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT did not remain on the toilet for very long after this epiphany and proceeded to freak the actual fUcK out as foolish college students are wont to do. She barricaded that fucking bathroom door and then she had to go to class. When FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT was released from the corrupt higher education drudgery commonly known as “class,” she journeyed straight to HEB (aka Texas wal-mart) and bought a fuckton of snaptraps and glue traps and “mouse attractant gel,” which the label said was better than peanut butter for scientific fucking reasons. (She also bought some Oreos and milk, but that is not relevant to our epic tale.) 

FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT laid her traps all over the bathroom floor and then shut the door and curled up in bed to read fanfiction while she waited for her nemesis to meet his demise. Her efforts were rewarded at 12:30am when terrified squeaking began emanating from the bathroom. What then followed was an argument between ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART SOCIAL WORK MAJOR and FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT wherein ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART SOCIAL WORK MAJOR refused to lend FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT her hammer to violently bludgeon the mouse out of its terrified, squeaking misery. This argument ended with FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT dropping the glue trap with the completely helpless, spread-eagled-on-the-glue-trap mouse into the big trash can by the curb outside where the mouse probably slowly starved to death or was finally, mercifully squished eight hours later when the garbage was picked up the next morning. 

FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT felt utterly victorious, despite the mouse’s inhumane and deplorable fate. She had caught the mouse! Her troubles were no more! But this was not to be. 

A week later when FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT came back from Easter break, a pungent mouse carcass greeted her in a glue trap in her bathroom. Three days after that she heard a trap snap at 1:30am (while on the toilet again) and got to experience the joy of smashing a helpless mouse to death with a brick in the wee hours of the morning. And again at 9:30am the same day! Woe to FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT. Who would help her in her time of need? FUCKING WHO??? The Doctor? Sherlock? The Winchesters? No! Someone mightier than even the tumblr fandom trifecta!! You know his name!! 

Our FUCKING hero received a text (you see my obligatory Sherlock comparison now, ofc) from FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT imploring him to help her. Since FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER was not a high-functioning sociopath or a Time Lord or otherwise occupied trying to help his brother un-unleash the latest unstoppable supernatural force, he pledged to “definitely take care of it” that weekend. FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT informed him that she and her roommate would both be gone that weekend (she was going to visit her family or some other foolish venture) but expressed her undying gratitude to FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER. 

Come Sunday night, FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT had just driven down from Dallas. It was 9pm. She just couldn’t wait to relax now that the mice had been dealt wi— FUCKING LIVE MOUSE STUCK TO A GLUE TRAP GETTING GLUE ALL OVER THE FUCKING FLOOR WHERE IS MY GODDAMN BRICK. 

FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT was so confused. Hadn’t FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER “definitely taken care of” the mice? It seemed not. These mice must be far greater foes than the Daleks or Moriarty or God’s friggin sister. FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT texted FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER. Then she went to bed. Dejected. 

A few days later, FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER deigned to text her again. There was a buyer for the apartment! Praise be to Castiel in his coat on that stained-glass window (seriously, that was fucking stupid, Cas, you can’t be GOD) But you know who CAN?! FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER who hath commanded FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT to “remove the mice traps” [sic] since “we know for a fact this is not a recurring issue, thank you for your cooperation! :)” 

Whaaaaaat? But- but I caught a- NO. 

FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT was fucking confused. She’s a foolish college student, what the fuck does she know? There aren’t anymore MICE. Here is what actually happened: The Gospel According to FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER, thanks be to God – I mean Cas – I mean TO FEARLESS FUCKING MOUSESLAYER 

The “one small mouse” obviously got in when FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER was powerwashing the patio and opened that pesky ol’ sliding door (I told you it was an important plot point). Because you know mice! When they hear a loud noise, they don’t run away from it or freeze from fear, nooooooo, they run towaaaaaards the loud, scary noise and iiiiiiinto the strange, unfamiliar environment of FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT’s apartment where they have DEFINITELY never been before. And THEN when this “one small mouse” definitely entered through the patio while water was being blasted against the walls outside, there just HAPPENED to be a hole chewed into the cabinet under FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT’s bathroom sink. “How fucking convenient!” thought the one small mouse. “What a perfect place to have my little babies!” 

"Whaaaat?” you might be thinking “but why would the mouse—” SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND THE INNER MACHINATIONS OF THE RODENT MIND LIKE FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER DOES. 

But it’s okaaaaay because all the mice are totally and completely and indisputably GONE now. You see, FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER checked the hole on Saturday and now “there are no more left inside the hole” But… but FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT found a mouse in the bathroom on Sunday so even if FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER didn’t see any on Saturday – WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! (Does it mildly annoy anyone else that that was a Sherlock quote from ASiP in 2010 but now it’s primarily associated with the fucking orange overlord? No? Just me, FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT all alone with my foolish college opinions? Okay…) 

"But FEARLESS MOUSESLAYER,” FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT implored, “I think there are still mice. Look, I have a picture of a mouse from Sunday—” 

"NO, FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT, THE MICE TRAPS [sic] MUST NOT BE VISIBLE FOR THE INSPECTION SINCE WE KNOW FOR A FACT THIS IS NOT A RECURRING ISSUE. REMOVE THEM.” 

"But isn’t that deceptive because the buyer kinda has the right to know the property has a mouse prob–” 

"HAD A MOUSE PROBLEM. IT’S ALL RESOLVED NOW. THERE ARE NO MICE. DON’T TALK OUT LOUD, YOU LOWER THE IQ OF THE ENTIRE STREET.” 

"That doesn’t even make s-” 

"NO FUCKING MICE!!” 

So you see, my friends, I, FOOLISH COLLEGE STUDENT, had some simple misconceptions about mice. Let us correct them:  1) mice run toward loud noises, not away from them. 2) mice only have 4 babies to a litter (Wikipedia is fucking wrong) 3) if the bait is gone from your mousetrap, it was probably just a bug 4) that isn’t mouse shit on your kitchen mat, those are chocolate fucking sprinkles And the most important, 5) the best way to resolve issues with your intransigent landlord is to type a wayyyy overly detailed fucking tumblr post at (it is now 2:52am, I did tell you I was foolish) and burden the internet with your whiny, privileged, and overall un-fucking-wanted opinions because you’re moving out of this apartment in a week and will be back to university fucking housing in the fall and you really, REALLY could not give a single fuck anymore unless an actual mouse crawled over your blanket and up your shirt to your hand and bit the thumb you’ve been using to type all this FUCKING WHINING BITCHING BULLSHIT but that’s okay, that won’t happen, because there AREN’T ANY FUCKING MICE! MICE DON’T EVEN EXIST, THEY’RE JUST COMMUNIST PROPAGANDA!!! 

Dear ACTUAL God.