#the name means 'hard-headed' in cajun french

[tetedurfarm]

rusasi-ma -> tetedurfarm

welcome to the new look; let's get it started with the perfect photo to encapsulate the changes

[nyxnightshade7656]

Hooked(Pt2)

I'll be honest. I have no idea where this is all really going. But it's fun to write. Hope you guys enjoy, any ideas/constructive criticism, by all means. Help. Also, prerequisite "I don't speak Cajun or French" and I'm sorry if Google Translate makes you mad, but it's kinda all I got. Writing in accents is hard, despite speaking with a deep southern drawl my whole life XD And if ya wanna be tagged, I guess let me know? I think I'm doing it right.

She sighed and made her way back to her window, which was a little more difficult to find in the dark. Then she just stared up at it for a long moment. She had not thought this through, clearly. From the ground to the window was a five-foot gap. There was nothing to really put her fingers or toes into for grip, curse the perfect maintenance on the building. And she hadn’t thought to just drop a rope, of which there was a disturbing amount to be found, or something similar to be able to climb up. And with her phone dead, she couldn’t exactly ‘phone a friend’ for assistance. She rubbed her hands over her face in annoyance at herself.

Just as she was about to give up and turn back to the forest, it wouldn’t have been the first time sleeping in a tree, a voice called down from above, “Now, Petite, what’chu doin’ out here, huh? Gon’ an’ gotcha self locked out? Good thin’ Ol’ Gambit was out patrollin’. Lemme help ya up.” She looked up, eyes wide, to see Gambit looking out the window above her own. He had a smile on his face and looked like the cat that had gotten the canary. Which was to say, entirely too pleased with himself.

Normally she would deny help, just because she hated to bother other people with her problems, but this time she was willing to make an exception. She just nodded. Gambit smiled again, “Hang tight, be down in a jiff.” Then he was gone from the window and she was left with her thoughts. Thankfully, he didn’t leave her outside for long. Soon enough, he was walking up to her.

“So, how’d ya en’ up ou’ere, huh? We all thought you was hol’up in yer room.” He said with a grin as he motioned back the direction he had come from. No doubt, the front doors. She sighed as she turned to follow him, but not before she glanced up towards her window one last time. Gambit caught her glance easily and followed her gaze. It didn’t take much for him to put two and two together, “Ah, jumped out t’window, hm? Cleaver. T’oh a good teif knows to leave a proper ‘scape route. Or return route in dis case. Why not call’er text ta be let back in?”

She grabbed her phone out of her back pocket, showed him the dark screen, then drew her finger across her throat in the universal sign for ‘dead’. He shook his head, “I see. Well, guess you lucked out wit me bein’ a night owl, huh Petite?” She nodded, just once, and gave him a grateful look. Because he had saved her, even if it was just from a minor inconvenience of having to find a tree to sleep in for the night.

His emotions tasted like cinnamon, vanilla and bourbon on her tongue. Warm, soothing, and with a slight spice. Comfort, care, curiosity, and something light and airy that she couldn’t put a name to. She couldn’t read minds like Xavier or Jean, though she had heard even if she could it would be pointless since Gambit seemed to be able to counteract telepaths. She hadn’t gotten the details on the how, just overheard that he could. But whatever it was that enabled him to escape a telepath’s abilities didn’t seem to help him escape her Empathic abilities, because his emotions were like an open book to her.

They made it to the front doors; that Gambit had left propped open which allowed a warm inviting light spilling onto the stone steps from inside. Not many people realized it, but it wasn’t just living creatures that could have emotions. Wood and stone held residual emotion, particularly strong ones. She could feel the emotions that had seeped into the wood and stone of the mansion over the years of it being occupied. It was yet one more reason why she would hide away or try to escape as much as possible. Her first day in the mansion had nearly driven her to insanity before Xavier had managed to place a temporary shield around her mind to help dull the intensity. Now she was able to create her own mental shields that were almost as strong. Still not enough to be normal, but better.

 “Here ya’re Petite, even left th’ light on for ya.” Gambit teased. The playful teasing tone of his voice perfectly matched the happy-joy-warm-citrusy taste of his emotions. They were so strong that she could feel her own lips pulling into a smile against her will. And of course, he picked up on her smile instantly, “Aww, dat fer me? Should smile more, looks good on ya.” He stepped to the side and, as if he were a prince from a fairy tale, bowed with his arms motioning towards the door, “After you, Chaton.”

She shook her head, unable to stop the smile that seemed almost permanently etched on her face, and stepped inside the mansion. Once inside, she closed her eyes and took a breath. It was something she had to do anytime she walked into a place not one hundred percent her own. She allowed the emotions to flow through her, hateangerfearlovejoypeaceexcitementconcernprotectiveness; but she did not hold on to them. She processed the feelings, acknowledged them, and then released them back into the room. It was the only way she could maintain her sanity.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder, “Ya alrigh’? Ya always quiet, but rarely ever see ya be still as death.” Concern, worry, anxiety; it all tasted like the bitter pith of citrus. She hated it instantly. She shook her head and forced a smile. She had taught herself ASL years ago, about two years after her Siren Song had reared its ugly head and all but forced her to be Mute. But she had learned that nearly no one knew ASL unless they had a loved one that was Mute or Deaf. Which, in turn, relegated her to notebooks or her phone’s talk-to-speech function. Her phone was dead, and she was clearly without a notebook, so that left her with the world’s worst rendition of charades as her only option of communication. So for now, she just went with a simple, unmistakable, hand sign. She held her pinky, ring, and middle fingers up; while her thumb and pointer made a circle. The universal sign for ‘Ok’, followed by pointing to herself.

Gambit chuckled, “One’a dees days, gonna hear that voice a’yers. But alrigh’, you’re good. I hear ya, loud and clear Petite. I’ll walk ya t’yer room.” Before she could physically protest, he placed his hand on her lower back and started to guide her. His emotions made it clear that he didn’t think she couldn’t take care of herself, which she would have taken immediate offense to, but he still felt protective. Curious, and was that affection? She bit her lip, suddenly shy and unsure of herself. She wasn’t sure what to make of those emotions.

“Here ya’re Petite. How’s ‘bout you head on in and get some shuteye, yeah?” He waited until she had opened her door and stepped over the threshold before he leaned into her space, crowding her against the doorway, yet leaving her a clear escape if she so chose, “And Petite? I happen ta be fond of chats. Da kitten ya made Stormy was cute. Still waitin’ fer my lil’ surprise.” He pressed the words against the shell of her ear, making her heartrate kick into triple time. And when he pressed a fleeting; barely there to the point of making her think she might have imaged it, kiss against her jaw, just under her ear, she almost felt like the world as a whole had come to a screeching halt.

He leaned back and gave her a playful wink and casual wave, “Fais de beaux rêves, Petite. Sweet dreams.” And like that, he was gone. And she was left to try and figure out if she had imagined everything that had happened, or if it had been real.

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Wyatt Barlow Species: Lamia Occupation: Fighter at the Grit Pit Age: 34 Years Old Played By: Elliott Face Claim: Aaron Taylor-Johnson

"Long pig tastes great with a nice aioli."

Wyatt Barlow was born in the bayou in 1990, hatching from a clutch of eggs not unlike his feral cousins, but he was the only one to survive the first year of life. Wyatt had adjusted quickly to hunting his own meals of bugs and frogs and easily outpaced his smaller clutch mates, and the rest were eventually eaten—either by himself, his mother, or other gators in the area when food proved scarce. He didn’t feel bad for them, and thrived in the swamps for about three more years by himself, with regular visits from his mother. Sometimes she looked like him; big and covered and scales and with a long maw full of teeth, and sometimes she looked like a smaller, softer, pink thing… a thing he would learn was called a human when she started to teach him how to look like one as well. It wasn’t easy at first, but eventually the juvenile managed a complete shift, and on that day, a toddler with a wild, curly mop of sandy blonde hair waddled out from the heart of the bayou to the cabin on stilts where his mother waited for him on the porch, beaming with pride.

Wyatt was a cunning child, growing faster and stronger than his peers and learning new things quickly. He had a sharp wit and a silver tongue, able to turn on the charm at a moment’s notice, squaring his shoulders and losing the laid back drawl that came from growing up in a home of Cajun-French speaking relatives. He was generally well-behaved—that is until one of his cousins, Marcel, and his folks moved in, having fallen on some hard times and needing a roof over their heads. Marcel had a mean streak, and was perhaps even more persuasive than his little cousin Wyatt. Do you wanna help make some money for the family? he’d asked. Wyatt and the extended family that lived in this bog had not really wanted for much prior to the expansion of their live-in family, but it seemed that now Wyatt’s father grumbled more and more about struggling to make ends meet. So he’d agreed to his cousin’s request out of a desire to help, and that’s where it all went wrong.

He was only eleven, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at his shifted form. And the people that ran those underground fighting rings for the supernatural didn’t know it either, because Marcel made sure that Wyatt never shifted back in front of anyone. All those years of living on his own in the swamp had made him tough, agile, and most of all, capable of handling himself in a fight. What did age matter, really? This arrangement went on for a while and Wyatt found himself enraptured by the praise and attention of strangers, drinking it in the same way he did when it came from his classmates, only now it was adults. It felt good to be accepted by them, respected by them… even Marcel would tell him what a good job he was doing every time he won a fight. It propped him up, set him apart, and made him feel powerful. His mother didn’t like the change in his attitude, but as the second year of night fights after school came to a close, he was too smitten to care. Anyway, she was getting the money, right? It was for a good cause, he told himself—though that had stopped being the only reason he still put his health and safety on the line some time ago. 

The truth of the matter was that the Barlow family hardly saw any of the winnings—Marcel was keeping most of it for himself, giving the smallest amount possible to his aunt and uncle that would explain his nightly absence: he had a job, of course. And so did Wyatt. It didn’ pay well, but they were doing what they could to help! The family was appreciative, having no idea. Wyatt had no clue how much money he was actually making, and never thought to ask his cousin, because why would he lie? They were family, and family was supposed to stick together.

But Marcel was a liar. And Wyatt didn’t find out until he was seventeen years old. And when he did find out… that temper that had become so synonymous with his battle persona lashed out, bringing his cousin within an inch of his life. Then the boy ran. He couldn't face his family after what he'd done—they'd have too many questions, and he would have to reveal too many secrets and lies. He'd been a good boy, once. And his mother still believed he was; how could he stand to disappoint her?

Fleeing north, Wyatt settled in Boston, still participating in both supernatural and human underground fights after his restaurant shifts to make money—enough to continue sending a stipend back home to the family he'd shamefully abandoned. It was far more than Marcel had been giving them, but he never wrote a return address on the envelopes, determined to keep his distance until the day he felt he'd redeemed himself… as if that day would ever come. The more money he made, the more he could send, so over a decade later when he heard about a permanent fighting ring for supernaturals in a town in Maine (where the cost of living would surely be less), he uprooted his life once more to make the move. 

What he couldn’t know was that there was a devastating defeat in his future that would threaten his more lucrative livelihood and upend his relationship with his family’s curse.

Character Facts: 

Personality: Charismatic, hotblooded, passionate, theatrical, unscrupulous, duplicitous, accommodating, solitary

Wyatt is an alligator lamia and shifts into a massive, scaled creature that resembles a bipedal version of the species native to the bayous of Louisiana. Fully shifted he stands about nine feet tall, but is twice that length if you include his tail. Like an alligator, he will either eat his prey whole or shake it violently enough to make it more bite-sized. Naps are always required after a large meal.

He is Cajun and talks with a peculiar dialect, especially when speaking French.

His other passion besides fighting is food. He's of course very fond of Cajun cuisine, and perhaps somewhat alarmingly, alligator is one of his favorite proteins. Though maybe that’s not a surprise when one considers that he ate his siblings when he was only a few months old.

He spent some time in his late twenties as part of a jazz-rock band (Eddie and the Preachers) in Boston, playing the trumpet. He still likes to take it out and play by the water’s edge at his home on Darkling Lake. He’s also not half-bad with a clarinet.

Wyatt is empathetic toward shifters that are not in control of their abilities, either due to inexperience or other external factors. Assuming he likes the shifter, he may go above and beyond to make sure they’re comfortable and doing okay. He’s worked with many shifters that are treated poorly and it has never sat right with him.

His stage name at the Grit Pit is Lockjaw.

[wexhappyxfew]

The Nightingales of Fortune Favors the Brave

A Band of Brothers Fanfic Coming Fall 2021 (or presumably whenever Landslide finishes up!) 

HELLO!! If you’re reading this, then as you can see, I’ve finally created a master post with all my Nightingales (well, not really mine THE PUBLIC’S but you’ve all gifted them to me ever so graciously, and it honestly, it means the world to me). Just to see the excitement and reception I’ve gotten from so many people in the fandom involving a female group of Pathfinders - an area of war, I have wanted to cover ever since nearly over 2 years ago I got involved in the fandom. All OC’s will have their creators name listed beside them - I did not create any of these OC’s, all credit goes to the lovely people who crafted and gifted them to me for FFTB!

Viewing where I currently am in my life, I’m going to going to college this year! I got accepted into the school I wanted, the program I wanted, even a scholarship! And I’m beyond excited. I really wanted to have something there for me when college does finally, you know, HAPPEN, and so Fortune Favors the Brave was the only way to go! To have a wonderful group of Nightingales, of female Pathfinders in the Band of Brothers fandom, seemed to be the way to go. Updates and such will definitely be different - I’m picking up more work hours this year, probably even summer classes, night classes, weekend classes - whatever I can do to benefit my degree and myself, I’m taking the opportunity. 

And so, updates will presumably be quite different, depending on a variety of things, but...this will be my college story! No matter how many years it takes to complete and update and write, this will be the thing I have with me through it all for when I need a mental break from school! And I am beyond excited for when I do finally get to share this story more than anything! 

We have such a great group of OCs here - different backgrounds, different reasons for joining, different creators who gifted them to me, different friendships, relationships and abundances of sisterhood and brotherhood moments. I’m truly beyond excited to showcase the Pathfinders side of the war in the light of 16 female OCs, whose stories will be told through their viewpoints based on different episodes whether whole or split! 

So thank you ALL!! These past 2 years have been a joy in the fandom and let’s hope for another few more! I’ve managed 3 fics and 4 books total and I’m excited to bring, presumably, my FINAL Band of Brothers fic in the fandom to you all in the near future. Thank you!! <3

THE NIGHTINGALES 

Team C DZ C for 506th PIR, 501st PIR 

-> 2/506 PIR (Stick 2/Plane #4) 

-- TOCCOA VETERANS --

Team Leader 

Captain Eleanor Graham - @basilone

Eleanor Graham had never met a challenge she couldn’t conquer - the eldest of four and a farmer’s daughter, teamwork and diligence were drilled into her mind like clockwork, along with being as much of a leader in the eyes of her family as she could. There was more to life than a farmer’s wife for her future though, no matter how much she adored the farm her family had grown to craft from the ground up. Iowa brought no opportunity except the farm life deemed fit for her, so upon seeing the advertisement “ It’s Your Fight Too “, OCS had never seemed like a better choice in her eyes. Because it was all their fights - man, woman, child, anyone - it was a World War, a fight for all their lives, for human lives. And with the capability to obtain Captain just before leaving for Camp Toccoa, it solidified her position for not only leading in Easy Company, but leading the Nightinagles - the first stick of female Pathfinders.

Assistant Team Leader

Lieutenant Florence Godfrey - @pxpeyewynn

A British lady and an artist at heart, from the little town of Avebury, set inside Wiltshire of Great Britain, her father made it big in New York just as the war that swarmed throughout Europe, erupted into spitfire. And suddenly thrust into the world of an America before war, was unsettling. Her country fought while America remained neutral. Yet, when the advertisement flooded throughout New York City - she couldn’t help but take it as her only way to get into war. OCS was beyond enough challenges, but walking in as a Lieutenant for Easy and for the Pathfinders, she was no longer the little girl who prayed at night to whomever was above to end the people’s suffering, or avoided interaction to instead draw in her notebook. She was a Lieutenant, and she was a woman at war - yet what was she even fighting for? 

Eureka Operators (each equipped with a Eureka Transponder each)

Sergeant (NCO) Marie Reynal - @thoughpoppiesblow

Grandmère Reynal always held her at night, under the dark night sky and sang in her soulful Cajun French, the words flowing from her lips and remaining an ever-present comfort in times where food was hardly ever on the table, or when she had to watch the other girls at school get the latest Mary-Janes and she was stuck with her old ones. Her grandmère taught her to appreciate the small things in life. But when the “It’s Your Fight Too” poster came out in the papers, Marie Reynal knew there were larger things in life than the newest Mary-Janes at school. Packing up what she could, Marie headed out to Camp Toccoa, equipped with nothing but some clothes and her fiddle. 

Corporal Edith Lockner - @mercurygray

Remember to look up - her mother would always tell her that. Especially when things on their little farm got hard in Stanford, Illinois where the only thing that occurred there was the wagering price of corn that fluctuated with the ever-changing times. So...she figured that’s why she always tended to look to the stars when her mother would tell her that before bed each night, looking out the wooden window under her quilt as a cold draft blew in. She always imagined herself up there, amongst the stars and for once seeing what the stars saw. But to be up with those stars and to get to study them, she’d need a lot more money than what ever amount the corn tended to bring in. And the Airborne with a fantastic pay grade, along with the Pathfinders and their earnings -- it seemed her ticket out. Maybe there won’t be stars - but anything’s got to be better than here. 

Wireman 

Corporal Chiyoko ‘Luna’ Omori - @papersergeant-pencilsoldier

Know your place. Eyes down, mouth shut. And most importantly, honor your family. Chiyoko Omori has never been one to step out of line, nor has she been one to speak when otherwise not spoken too. Trained in the art of kendo, the Japanese martial arts that her ancestors trained in, she leads with discipline and integrity amongst the group of Nightingales training as Pathfinders, as the solo wireman of the group. Her intelligence, more than once, has saved her and in war might just save her again and again. Her father’s garage had always been home to a multitude of repairs and many she had learned to do herself. But there she had been Chiyoko. But for war, she must forget who Chiyoko is and embody the only other name besides her family name that she will ever know - Luna. 

Lightmen (each equipped with 2 Halophane Lamps each) 

Staff-Sergeant (Senior NonCom) Sarah Prowse - @junojelli

For once in her life Sarah Prowse would not have her twin brother by her side. He hadn’t been by her side for years after he went back home to fight with the English and lost his life at Dunkirk. But this was real, this was happening - and the Pathfinders withheld the opportunity to prove to herself that Edmund had died with valor and courage. And he would not have died in vain. The nannies had always said they were inseparable but they weren’t those kids anymore. This was real life. And in real life, there was love and loss and pain. And sometimes the only way to get through it all was to do the thing to distract you most from it all. Some days she wished her family could’ve just stayed in England - maybe Mum would still be here. With her sharp mind, and the ability to read people like an open book, rising to the rank Staff-Sergeant had come easily - reading the field and reading people were pretty similar...right? 

Corporal Jean Dawson - @tvserie-s-world

Life in Louisville, Kentucky had always been a sort of cozy-comfort that Jean Doxon had always enjoyed. The weekend fairgrounds filled to the brim with people enjoying the night life it offered, early summers filled with watching her father race horses around the tracks sprinkled throughout the town and nights by her boyfriend, Glenn Hartley, where the sky seemed to stretch forever into the night. That is before the war sent him away to the Pacific. And their only form of communication was reduced to letters, with pressed flowers and the hint of rose perfume. Jean refused to mope about, when she knew this war was hardly far from over. Quick-thinking on her feet, and a town champion for knot-tying in her days in elementary, she packed what she could and left for Georgia the second she was able to take the first train out. The Airborne had much to offer, but more importantly so did the Pathfinders. 

Corporal Mercy Codonoa - @whoahersheybars

Mercy Codona always been a traveler, never staying in one place and always on the move to somewhere new that she might've never quite been before. This meant new neighbors, new friends and a new way of life. Something the United States readily offered. Each new town in a new state had a different way of life than the next. She figured that's why she was so quick to adapt to her surroundings - nothing was ever permanent, nor set in stone. Neither was family. Orphaned by 17 and left to fend for herself, left in the care of her mother's estranged sister, Mercy took the liberty by herself to do what she could to support herself. Taking up odd jobs in each town she traveled to and managing what she could to feed herself. But she was proud of her Romani-Croat heritage and what her ancestors had done in their past lives. She intended on continuing what their stories had not finished. If only she could continue to support herself. It was only when the "It's Your Fight Too" showed up newly on the Fort Wayne clipboard by the post office in April 1942 and then and there in that moment did she decided - with the extra money the Airborne offered, along with that of the Pathfinders, she'd be able to support herself in the future as well as possibly find people with the same dreams as herself for their futures, and for once finally belong.

Private Kennedy Rutlidge - MINE

Kennedy Docherty had always had quite a wild and exciting mind, always having a new idea, or a new method on selling the most recent paper that got her a few cents an hour. All through her schooling years and even up to her senior year, she took to the busiest corner on Lake Ave and Lyell Ave, calling out to sell her papers, before heading home for the night and running her normal routine the very next day. She spent summers at Lake Ontario, in her grandmother's home on the lake, where some of her fondest memories of her youth had been born. She always believed that's why she was always fascinated with flying, like one of the birds or hawks that flew out across the lake in the early morning. What she'd give to get that feeling just once in her life, away from school and away from the constant need to make as much money as she could to help with the family. The words "It's Your Fight Too" scrawled across the paper in early April had caught her eye within a second and left her running home just that night to break the news that she was signing up. And almost a week later, she found herself packed on a train towards Camp Toccoa, Georgia, bright eyes and the last bit of innocence fading from sight.

Security Personnel  

Sergeant (NCO) Alexandra Calypso - @iilovemusic12us

A Boston girl who grew up with her proud Jewish faith, with a Greek mother, knew hard work and sometimes it was pushing yourself to the very limit beyond what the human body could handle sometimes. So that meant falling, scrapping your knee a few times, sucking up the tears, sending a quick prayer to God and moving on with your life. Life had always been like that - they weren’t the richest, nor the poorest, but there wasn’t ever enough food on the table or enough money to fix the roof, or even to keep the mortgage paid. But her parents never stopped working. And she supposed what drove her to the Airborne and to the Pathfinders was seeing how hard they worked. And they paid well she had heard. She could work with it. And if anything, the Pathfinders were more accepting than any school in Boston she’d been to. 

Sergeant Nellie Shaw - @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant

Hailing from a small, coastal town in Maine, the proud Scot wanted more than anything to stay out of war when it finally came knocking on America’s doorstep. But Nellie Shaw, loyal as saint, knew that there was one thing she could do for this country and that was fight. Give her a pack of cigarettes or a bottle of gin, and she’d go in swinging for the war effort, even with her grumpy morning attitude that slowly became infamous in her elementary school days among the school children. She had no purpose on a farm on a mountain side anymore, rather destined to do what part of the fight she could. Taking Greer Riddell under her wing, the fellow Scot befriended the least likely person to enjoy her company and yet Nellie’s easy-going companionship slowly became integral to the entirety of Easy Company and the Nightingales. 

Private Greer Riddell - @leighinthesky

Schruz, Nevada was home for 21 years and by the looks of it, home for the rest of her life. A bee farm in a tiny town wasn’t idle for the rest of her life, but if she never got the money for college to get out of the small town, she feared she wouldn’t ever leave. And knowing the military had offered 16 women a stick of a plane to get their shot at becoming Pathfinders for the Army was her ticket straight to Toccoa, Georgia for training. The pay could send her not only to college, but could get her out of that tiny town which had confined her to nothing but her family and a cute little bee farm where hard work always paid off. Don’t be fooled by her subdue and withdrawn nature, the second her hands touched the rifle - the field was hers and yet so was the valley.

Codebreaker [Betchley Park Member]

Sergeant Laverne Robinson - @vintagelavenderskies

For her 23 years of life, Laverne Robinson had known just about every spot in London where you could catch a smoke break and not get caught by one of the older women and get scolded for doing so. She blamed her older brother, he blamed her. It was a mutual thing. But that had been the only thing to fear in London - until war struck, which sent every eligible man off to fight for the effort. Her brother included, leaving her staring out the rain speckled window all alone as the smell of her mother's soup wafted past her nose. Yet, like many women of the time, she wanted to fight too. Fluent in French and German and skilled in mathematics and code-work, Bletchley Park seemed the best fit. Working on codes, both sculpting and breaking them inside the building, keeping her lips shut and going on about her normal day when not inside the institution, life didn't seem as dreary as she had anticipated. Because she knew she was apart of the effort to end this war. That was until, she was called upon in late March 1944 to join up with the 101st Airborne with the first female stick of 12 pathfinders to make the jump into Normandy and assist them in anyway possible. Laverne knew it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and if her brother were there, he would've told her to run with it. Becoming a professor of mathematics would have to wait.

REPLACEMENTS

Corporal Alessandra Lisi - @tvserie-s-world

Alessandra Lisi had never known her parents. She was always told that sickness had taken them when she was just a child. Her brothers had been older than her and had tried to protect her from the sight of her parents dying. And so when their Nonna had taken them into her home without hesitation, Alessandra grew to look to her Nonna as the other parental figure she’d ever had. Of course, her brothers were always there for her, protective as they were, they never let her get into any sort of trouble without hearing about it first. Alessandra grew to adore her Italian heritage, cooking with Nonna on Sunday’s, inviting family over to enjoy the meals and even getting to stir the sauce as Nonna dropped in fresh, cut tomatoes. That was life and it had always been life as such. But when war sent her 3 brothers away, she knew she would not go down without a fight either. Upon receiving the paper in November 1943, she noticed the cover page withheld the picture of 12 women, adorned in jump wings as well as military grade goggles and scarves standing with wide smiles and bright eyes in front of a C-47, the title 'The Nightingales', lying just underneath. Female Pathfinders. If her parents were here, they would've been telling her what Nonna would've been telling her now. Fight for what you believe in, because while there's life, there's hope.

Private First Class Bettie Smith - @sgtxliptons86

Brooklyn, New York had it all - the kids in the streets, the shops on the corners where you could get a piece of candy for as little as 5 cents, even the corner stores in the summer where you could get ice cream for a dime. And as Bettie Smith grew older, running the streets of Brooklyn became like a weekend job - checking in on the younger kids of friends, riding bikes past the floral shops and picking up flowers for her sister, getting a bag of charcoal for her father. Even throwing some curses towards the boys who would heckle her for the way she wore her hair or the old shoes laced on her feet. Her older sister wasn’t too pleased with it all, but ever since Ma had passed, she seemed to let it slide - it was an escape for Bettie. So when war came knocking on the Smith’s door, anger, yet pride for their country filled the home, as well as the streets of New York, as more men and women began signing up for the cause. More friends left to join the effort, leaving Bettie there on the concrete doorstep. So when Bettie received the daily paper in November 1943, showcasing the 12 female pathfinders of the 101st Airborne, front and center for all to see, Bettie took it in quite large strides and took the first train of December 1943 to Fort Benning, Georgia.

Private Annie Laine - @wereinadell

Annie Laine, the daughter of Finnish immigrants, had always dreamed of leaving the quiet countryside her parents had always preferred for their family for the big cities of the Midwest - maybe she’d go to Chicago and study theater, or maybe she’d go and finally attend college in Milwaukee. Anything to get out of the small town she currently resided in. But the countryside had brought alone its perks - orienteering and hunting were big in the Laine family and every child, her 3 brothers, her and her sister, had all been taught the noble art. Swimming the streams, fishing in the lakes, taking hikes through the forests and coming back with a deer for dinner - life had always been quite peaceful Annie felt. But she could always hope that one day it changed. And it seemed war rung those bells quite early on. Annie was tired of structured life and if anything, she knew that the start of structured life in the military would fall quite nearly to shambles once they hit war. The November 1943 issue of the daily newspaper brought upon not only sudden interest in the military, but in that of the female pathfinders who were paving their way in all of military history to be the first stick to jump into continental occupied-Europe. All it took was what cash she had saved for college and a small suitcase to get her on the way to Fort Benning, Georgia.

Private Marla Hughes - @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant

Lafayette, Louisiana had been home all her life - Baton Rouge just to the East and New Orleans just a little further. It had always been home for as long as she could remember. With the fancy parties her father always allotted for the family to attend, talking with the men in pristine suits, or the women with the big hats, some days Marla Hughes just wished to be able to go outside and enjoy nature instead of suffocating amongst the people who seemed to live in a world that didn’t even seem like real life. She supposed that was when she had hit her breaking point and joined the Airborne in Fort Benning, Georgia. She was tired of the life that did absolutely nothing for her. There was more to this world, so much more and yet she was confined to a party dress and an expensive glass of wine that tasted bitter when it rushed down the throat. There were small bars, where the music played, and you could dance until your feet grew tired, there were beer bottles awaiting to be clinked together with friends and there were people beside the stuck-up society she was forced into. The Airborne accepted anyone far and wide - and maybe she could strip of the posh life given to her and finally be set free.

THESE ARE THE NIGHTINGALES!!!

> if you have any questions, feel free to send them in! if not, it’s all good! these are our 16 nightingales! :) thank you to all of you who sent them in back in early December! It’s been an honor to craft these wonderful OC’s!

[infinitegalahad]

Falling For High School! Snafu Would Include...

This is going to be apart of a series. Just an idea I had roaming in my head! It’s pretty bad but I just had to get this out here. High School! Snafu is an interesting concept...✨✨

You met Snafu in your French class sophomore year

You originally knew him as Merriell since the teacher would always call him that (or call him out for not paying attention)

He’s the only junior in a class full of underformers

At first glance, you’re kinda weary of him because of all the rumors you had heard 

I mean, his nickname had said it all for you 

Everybody knew him as the “werid” older student 

Just seemed like nothing more than a weird dude

It’s like any other day and your in French

You get assigned to work with Snafu on a project 

Great, not only your with the older werido, but he also most likely won’t do the work

He moves to your desk with a cheeky smile on his face

“Y/n, innit?”

“Yeah, and you're Merriell?”

“You can call me Snafu, darlin’”

Snafu to say the least was very unpredictable 

He was fluent in French and did his fair share in the project

You guys actually got an A+ on the project

It had sparked a sudden friendship between the two of you 

Hanging out during your free blocks, exchanging numbers, etc

Heck, he even came over for dinner

Your mother absolutely loves him since you convince him to put on a goody two shoes act so he doesn’t give your poor mother a heart attack

He would hang out in your room as you guys made tik toks and played Among Us

But the more you guys became “friends”, the more you noticed his long stares and sleepless nights you would spend texting

It was pretty obvious that Snafu had been not so subtlety flirting with you

Burgie, a friend of Snafu and you, even notices but doesn’t say because he likes to watch all the drama unfold from a distance 

He would call you cher, pat you on the head, and be way too nice to you

“Why don’t you go poking around with some girl around your age?”

“None of treat me like you do, cher.” 

“Ah, the sympathy card. Try your luck next time, Shelton.” 

He was a cigarette smoking Cajun while you were a goody two shows with straight a’s

Snafu could have have anybody else but yet he puts all your attention on you and only you? 

So anyways, there’s this bully in your Latin class named Lukas

He’s overall an asshole who especially loved to harass you

Since Snafu became your friend and possible crush, he had been leaving you alone-ish

But the harassment still didn’t stop and the comments would get even worse

“Whats the matter? Gonna cry about it to your fuck buddy?”

“He only likes you because he feels bad for you. Look at you.” 

Lukas wasn't entirely wrong since nobody ever paid attention to you except Snafu

It was a dirty confession, but you sometimes liked the attention he gave you since you had never expiernced it before

So it’s the end of class and you’re packing up all of your stuff 

You stayed after to talk with the teacher so your all alone

Wanting to fill up your water bottle, you walk to the nearest water fountain and fill it

Returning to the classroom, your in absolute hororr

All of the books in your bag had been spilled all over the place and your phone screen had been smashed 

The notes you had done for an important quiz had been all ripped up

Down the hallway, you can hear Lukas and his friend snickering 

Not knowing what to do, you burst into tears 

Snafu had forgotten one of his books and walked in on you, sobbing your eyes out

He walks over and sees the mess

In an awaked manner, he bends down and pats your back as you let it all loose

“Merde sacrée! Y/n, you good?”

You shake you head as you can barley breathe from all the tears

Snafu furrows his eyebrows as he shakes his head in disgust

“Who did ‘dis, cher?”

“L-Lukas...but please don’t interfere.”

“Only because your sayin’ it, I won’t. But let me drive you home.”

Snafu drives you home and he’s there when you explain it to your mother

She calls the school and wants it sealed with immediately 

Snafu gives you a hug before going back into car

Throughout the night he’s sending you funny Tik Tok’s and memes because he’s such a himbo

So it’s the next day of school and your kinda shaky but know it’s going to be dealt with

As you grab your books for Geometry, you hear students running to the Cafeteria 

Curious, you follow and are in absolute shock

Snafu was on top of a whimpering Lukas, beating the living shit out of him

“Think it’s funny to bully other’s to jazz ya cargo pants boo?”

“G-get off of me, bug eyes!”

Lukas was begging for him to stop with a bloody nose, crying 

It gets split up and both of the boys are dragged away

So after you finish your classes you wait outside of the nurses office and see Snafu walk out with a bruised eye and bloody lip

He smiles at you, acting like nothing bad at happened

Walking over, you slap him really hard

“What the hell is wrong with you!”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I told you not to confront him, and yet you do!”

“He was hurting you. What the hell did you expect me do? Let him kick yah around?”

“It was none of your buisness!”

You were right up in his face, your rough breathes being the only noise

Digging throguh his pocket to find his car eyes, Snafu says “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

“What?”

“We’re outta here. Fuck this prison.”

“But I have a test in Phy-“

“Just Get in my damn car, y/n.”

There went your perfect attendance. Your mother was going to be worried sick but Snafu, despiste his insane judgement, was right

You and Snafu drive around in his Jeep in utter silence

Bringing you into a forest area, you guys stop as you overlook a cliff

Pulling out a box of cigarettes, he begins to smoke. You look over and admire the way his calloused fingers fiddle with the lighter. The way the cigar caseually hung from his lip.

Your staring was a little too obvious as Snafu looked over, offering a Cigarette

“No thanks. My mom says they kill your lungs.”

“Doesn’t you mama have a lot to say about everythin’?”

“She does. But those nicotine sticks give you cancer.”

“Are you gonna let her control you for da rest of ya life, Cher? Swear to god, you’ll be livin’ with her right by ya side. Even when ya married she’ll try to give you the birds and bees talk.”

A chuckle escapes from your lips. Snafu laughs along with you. He was right. For the few hours you were away from your overprotective, might as taste freedom. What was the harm in doing so?

“You know what? Fuck it. Hand one over, please.”

“Be careful, darlin’. Don’t get too cocky.”

Handing you a cigarette, you place it on your lips. Snafu brings a lighter close to your face. He grabs your chin gently to pull you close in order to lite the cigarette and suddenly my pants are wet

It took you by shock. His hands were dry, yet soft. As he lite your cigarette, his hand didn’t leave your chin. The two of you looked at eachother with a long gaze. There had been so much tension between you. Snafu had truly cared about you more than anybody in the world. There was something innocent about you that he simply adored.

Taking out the cigarette to blow smoke into his face, he leans in more to connect with your lips

Instead of rejecting it you happily accept the kiss. It was your first kiss and it had to be the Cajun bad boy. Not that you are complaining. His lips were like heaven. It was passionate and lasted for over a minute before you separated to breathe. Some of the saliva ran throguh from tongue. There is obvious regret on your face.

“You know why I like you, y/n?”

“Why, Snafu?”

“Because your a smart, and extremely hot person. Someone who’s decent in this fucked up place. Take that as a compliment.”

“That was a lot to take in. Thanks, I guess?”

There was a silence, before Snafu broke it

“Would you wanna do this again by the way? Y’know, except without the fight. And when your not studying.”

A smile appeared on your face as you blew out cigarette smoke, “I’m free on Saturdays.”

“Then Saturday it is, darlin’ .”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 46

I’m on a roll!  Yet another chapter beta’d by @parisconstantine (in which I learned about French terms of affection), and I’m already 1600 words into chapter 47.  I’m not sure if the next chapter will be a long one or if I’ll end up splitting it into two parts. Time will tell on that front.

Oh! Oh!  Sam and Simon both get last names in this chapter!

This covers the first six hours of the Food Festival, so minor mentions of food.  I can’t think of any other warnings beyond that, but if you find something please shoot me a message so I can update it.  I’m learning every day about things that trigger people, so sometimes I miss things that aren’t glaringly obvious.  However, I’m always willing to learn.  At the end of the day, this is very slice-of-life, after all.

Edit:  I am reposting this, for 2 reasons.  Most importantly, I included some characters in this chapter who I need to attribute to their rightful creators.  So, Thank you @charlylimph-blog for Ivan Thorson and Coffee Williams.  You are an incredible writer, and I didn’t want these two to languish in obscurity after all the hard work you put into submitting them for the last contest.

The second reason is just because I posted it too early and wanted to put it out there for the people who look for my chapters on Tuesdays.  I love you all!

“Okay, everyone for Alpha Shift, sound off.”

“Tyche Reid, Admin Observation, is online.” I could hear the smirk in my sister’s voice.

“Antoine Costa, Support Personnel, online.”

“Sophia, do I really have to do this?” a familiar voice wheedled.

“Yes. I need to know who is my eyes and ears on the ground.”

“Ugh. Zach Khan, Support Personnel, online.”

“Derek Okafor, Civilian Observation, online.”

“Sam Richardson, Civilian Ob-observation, o-o-online.” I couldn’t help grinning that Sam agreed to help out.  Usually, he kept out of any operations on the ship, but he was the original tester for Antoine’s project, so he had just assumed he would be part of today’s actions.

“Maverick Okima, Support Personnel, online.”

“Alistair Worthington, Resource Adjunct, online,” my assistant dutifully called off in a bored tone. Only I could see the sardonic look he shot me.

“Sophia Reid, Resource Command, online,” I breathed in relief.  “Thank you, everyone. You have two objectives today: first, a general assessment of the low-stim session so that we know what we did right and what we can improve on in the future; second, getting feedback on how Mr. Costa’s dampening and proximity updates to the translation chips are working, again with a goal for future enhancements.  Tyche Reid has graciously volunteered to be our control on the chip project, so she will be providing only a baseline evaluation of the low-stim session and the quiet rooms.”  In reality, my sister wasn’t volunteering so much as refusing to get the upgrade until I agreed to do the same.

“Soph, if you are going to keep being so formal, we may as well shut this down now,” my sister huffed. “Mr. Costa my foot.”

“I’m trying to be professional,” I grumbled back. “This is an official Council operation, to be saved for posterity.”

“Do you truly believe that Xiomara will tolerate being referred to as ‘Miss’ or ‘Councillor Kalloe’ for six hours, Sophia?” Antoine asked smoothly.

Fighting back a chuckle, I refused to concede his point. “That’s Simon’s problem, not mine. She and I are on shift in the festival at the same time, so Simon will be running the show from here.”

“And you have deluded yourself to believe that Mr. Rodriguez will continue to address everyone formally?” Alistair scoffed. Et tu, Brute? I had argued with him for weeks to call me Sophia.

“If you start calling me Mr. Okafor, I’m going silent until this is over, Sophia,” Derek threatened.

I threw my hands up defensively, even if most people couldn’t see me. “Fine! I get it, I get it. I’ll chill out with the names, but I am going on record that it was under duress and threat of operative failure.” I shook my head and took a deep breath. “Okay, so, back to the point.  Tyche, your job is providing an assessment of the low-stim Festival session, as it appears to someone without the implant upgrades.  Derek and Sam, your jobs are to evaluate the session with the upgrades.  I need all three of you to report back two specific things: what worked better than your past experiences, and what still sucked.  Maverick, Zach, and Antoine: you are there both in your capacities as support personnel in case something goes horribly wrong, and to make sure I hear about anything they don’t realize shouldn’t be happening.  Everyone clear on your jobs?”

I got six affirmative answers before continuing. “Okay, other than that – have fun!  Try new foods, let me know what to try when it’s my turn, just enjoy yourselves as much as possible!”  With that, I left the group channel open and watched the map of the festival.  The three teams were entering from different points to ensure that, between the six of them, everything could be evaluated. In theory, everything should go off without a hitch.  The vendors were already briefed to be prepared for attendees during this session to provide a list of flavor and texture aversions, and Miys was already stationed in security alcoves to ensure that the vendors were complying and attendees weren’t abusing it.

It was only fifteen minutes before we got our first update.

“Team Try New Foods, reporting early success,” Zach Khan’s voice broke in. “Kosher food stall was an overall hit, the Jainist stall admitted they had nothing that Derek could like except papadums, and Derek tried both falafel and chicken tikka masala.  Jury’s out on the masala, but he likes falafel.”

“I really thought falafel would be too squishy,” I admitted.

“Apparently not,” Zach chuckled. “He said it’s like a meatball, but no meat.”

“I mean, yeah,” I agreed, still dazed. “That’s cool, though.  And the Jainist vendor didn’t give him a hard time about the list?”

“Nope,” he popped the last letter, something he tended to do when he was really excited. “Just smiled, read it, and apologized that everything he had was either spicy, sour, or squishy.”

“How did the Kosher and Halal vendors react to the list?”

“Thoughtfully,” Derek interjected. “The Kosher vendor clarified if I like onions, and the Halal vendor just wanted to know if I meant pepper-spicy or herb-spicy.”

Awesome. “Good job, guys. And congrats, Derek, on the new foods.  Keep it up and let me know.”

Thirty minutes later, not everything was sunshine and rainbows, though. Sam and Maverick had so far reported three vendors whose stalls were too pungent to approach, and Alistair was already in contact with and arguing about the need to keep the dishes covered during the low-stim session. “I understand that the smell is what draws people in, usually, ma’am, but you agreed to keep all smells to a minimum for the first six hours. That includes keeping the atmospheric scrubbers engaged and keeping the dishes sealed.” When the woman on the other end started to argue, he swiftly cut her off. “When you signed up to be open during this session, you were given a list of the restrictions, and you signed off on it. Low Stimulus, and that includes stimulating the nose. You can either seal the food, as you agreed, or we can have your stall closed down for the remainder of the Festival, per the agreement you signed.” With that, he disconnected sighed before turning to me. “So rude,” he informed me with a shake of his head.

“Which stall was that?” I asked, wrinkling my nose in dread.

“Fortunately, just the seafood stall,” he explained. “Along with the Cajun and Jamaican stalls.  So, pungent, but no one has reported nausea as of yet.  Miys is already in the area, trying to dissipate the odor.”

“As long as it isn’t the Japanese stall,” I gulped. They had insisted on serving natto, but explained that it would be sealed in individual portions throughout the festival, and only opened by the person eating it.  While I couldn’t exactly argue, I didn’t have to be happy about it.

I heard from Tyche right at one hour into the event.

“Soph,” my sister practically shouted at me. “Do you want to explain to me why one of the Quiet Rooms looks like you robbed my quarters?”

Oops.  Forgot about that. “Tyche, they’re designed to be relaxing, quiet, and provide low stimulation.  I can’t help it that your quarters are practically a smooshy cave.” Three, two, one…

“A hammock!?” she demanded. “Why don’t I have a hammock?”

“Make up your mind, Tych. Are you offended that the room looks like your quarters, or jealous that it’s better equipped?”

“Both. Definitely both,” she asserted. “Ooo, you included the sound scrubbers we had installed in your quarters, didn’t you?”

“I knew it!” I almost shrieked. “I knew it sounded muffled in my quarters since I got back!  That was completely uncalled for, you brat.  You know I’m hard of hearing!”

“You also have an implant in your brain that directly translates language into your auditory cortex, so it’s not like you couldn’t hear us,” she pointed out. “And all your alerts and alarms were already calibrated for you to see them as well as hear them. What I don’t understand is why you never had Miys fix your hearing.”

“Are you kidding?” I scoffed. “Loud noises are bad enough as it is.  I can’t imagine how it would be if I could hear them better.”

“Aaannnnnnd that’s why we put the scrubbers in your quarters,” she finished. Well, walked right into that one, I admitted to myself. “This room is nice, by the way, once I got over the shock. Quiet, relaxing on the eyes and ears. How buff are the atmo scrubbers? It’s like my nose just quit working, but I can still breathe.”

“Really buff,” I clarified. “I’m not sure how many food and personal odors are going to be at the main event, so I erred on the side of overkill.”

“Do all the quiet rooms look like this?” Antoine asked, his tone full of curiosity.

“They do not,” I grinned. “Antoine, you’re going to love this, I think.  There are five different themed quiet rooms, and two of each for a total of ten. You two are in one of the Dark Rooms.  The Green themed rooms are furnished with plants and small fountains.  Medium theme looks more like my quarters, with lighter grays and some purples thrown in. Cool theme is mostly blues, with diffuse light to give an underwater or polar night kind of feeling.  Finally, the Light themed room is whites and pale yellows, with indirect light to create a feeling like a sunny day.”

A hum of approval. “I think that makes the most sense,” he agreed. “Not everyone finds the same things soothing, but I think you created enough variety to cover everyone.”

“So, how is the event going for you guys?”

Tyche sighed. “It’s going okay, but I’m not entirely certain that’s not because of who I am.  I haven’t seen any flashing lights, no loud music is playing, so that’s good.  The vendors have been very deferential, which I didn’t think to expect, honestly.”

“I don’t think that’s because of you,” I hummed. “Derek is having a similar experience, honestly.  Sam has reported some vendors with fragrant stalls, but that’s been addressed.  Alistair, anything else?”

Without glancing up from his data screen, he shook his head. “Other than the incident with the smells, nothing negative reporting yet. Derek and Zachary have dutifully sent in additional reports regarding the reactions of each vendor to the food preference lists, so far the balance is in the positive. Samuel and Maverick are reporting similar responses.”

“And the upgrades?” Antoine asked hesitantly.

“So far, nothing major…” Alistair trailed off.  “Support personnel are reporting receiving proximity alerts from non-clients, and I’ve received several queries regarding if that is normal?”

“It’s expected,” Antoine sighed. “We are working on an algorithm that would reduce the alert volume for support personnel who are on duty and in the presence of their respective clients, but it wasn’t ready in time for this event.  But, yes, it is normal and to be expected.”

“Understood. Request approval to release a mass communication to all registered support personnel?”

“Approved,” Antoine and I answered immediately.  I continued. “Alistair, do we have any reports regarding the effectiveness of the dampeners?”

“Yes and no,” he stated. “General reports indicate conditions that are difficult to separate from the intended atmosphere of the event.”

“Tyche, are you still on Level Fourteen?”

“Yeah, why?”

“If we send you the reports from any participants in that area, do you have time to corroborate?”

“I mean, I do, but I thought I was supposed to be participating?”

“Sorry,” I winced in contrition. “You’re right. I just… got ahead of myself. Yeah, it can wait until after your shift at the event.  Just make sure you’re recording your observations so you can do an accurate comparison later, okay?”

“We’re both recording full video, Soph,” she assured me, a rustling noise in the background. “I’m about to head back out into it, but I promise to keep my eyes peeled.  I’ll keep shooting reports to you as I make my way through the vendors, okay?”

“Sounds good,” I exhaled, leaning back in my seat as she disconnected.  Watching the map for a few more minutes, I saw all three teams circulating through the event.  Sometimes a team would stop at a Quiet Room for several minutes before continuing.  Small reports were trickling in, some from the three teams, some from vendors, and others from support people who were simply attending the event in a professional capacity.  However, no further urgent matters were reported aside from Derek and Sam finding a handful of new foods each.

Finally, we were approaching the end of the low-stim session.

“Alpha Shift teams, relief teams for Beta Shift are on their way,” I notified them once we were fifteen minutes out from the end. “Beta Shift teams, please report when you are online.”

“Amelie Marechal, Crowd Control, reporting online and heading to rendezvous with Derek and Zach,” a cheerful voice chirped not two minutes later. I managed to smother a chuckle as Alistair scowled at me, remembering our conversation the day before.

“Coffee Williams, Crowd Control, reporting online and arriving to relieve Costa and Reid” came the next, this time a smooth baritone.  I hadn’t spent much time around the man, but Antoine assured me that he was perfect for diffusing difficult situations.

“Ivan Thorson, Crowd Control, online,” followed quickly after.  “Heading to meet with Amelie and relieve Tyche and Antoine.”

The next two Beta Shift members left me speechless. “Conor MacMaoilir, Crowd Control, online and relieving Maverick and Sam.”

“Grey Hodenson, Crowd Control Command, online. I’m with Conor and we are relieving Okima and Richardson.”

Alistair managed to sneak in a couple surprises of his own, apparently.  When I glared at him, he merely smirked at me before tipping a non-existent hat towards me.  I barely caught Mr. William’s teammate checking in before I managed to recover. “Sophia Reid, Alpha Shift Resource Command, reporting for hand off to Crowd Control Command. Grey, confirm handoff?”

“Handoff complete, Sophia,” came the familiar, neutral voice. Finally, they cracked and I could hear a smile in their next words. “Please take care to get some rest between now and Delta shift.  We expect that shift to be crowded, and you will be Resource Observation. Also, I would like to request that you do not allow Xiomara to kill Simon?”

“Hey, that’s a tall order!” I objected, only half-joking. “I’ll try, no promises. And I promise to get some rest.  First, I need Alpha shift teams to come debrief in my office, then I’ll take a rest interval for Gamma.  Deal?”

“Mr. MacMaoilir and I agree that is sufficient.”

“Maverick, make sure she gets some sleep, or I’ll let Tyche give you what for,” Conor interjected. I didn’t even try to suppress the groan that followed.

Introducing the two of them had turned out to be a terrible idea on my part.

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[izzy-b-hands]

Like Honey On the Tongue

My thanks to Rori @fl0wer-boy over on the K Company server for providing me the info that is the real Snafu’s middle name, which led to some inspiration for the TV-versions of him and Sledge. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“People don’t even know what it means,” Snafu sighed. 

“Some people do, and you agreed to come to church with me every now and again-” 

“And I will,” he interrupted. “But you know how I feel about my first name, not everyone gets to know and use it, especially when I have a perfectly fine nickname!” 

“Look, for us, it’s fine, but at church...not everyone is okay with it, okay? I’m not asking you to change it, or to say that I won’t use it everywhere else, because I will! I know and I respect that you’d rather I use your nickname, that you’d rather most people do, but I can’t make the eighty-five year old grannies at church understand that. They don’t get it, and they won’t. You remember how I was a half hour late to the car after the last time you went with me?” Eugene asked.

“Yeah.” 

“That was because one of those grannies asked her grandson what your nickname meant, because she’d heard him say it before in moments of anger. He told her, she grabbed me after the service, and it took me that long to convince her that I didn’t need to drag you back in to have a talk with the priest about ‘your soul’ and ‘being proper’, because I know you don’t need that, but other people don’t. Other people judge when they don’t need to, and shouldn’t. I just...” Eugene sighed. “I don’t like hearing them talk about you like that. They don’t know you. But I can’t talk to every single one of them like I did her. So either you gotta come to church more so they can see it, can see you for you, or you gotta let me call you something else so the times you do come they aren’t assholes about it.” 

“Okay, sure, fine,” he snapped, though he knew he shouldn’t, Eugene wasn’t meaning to upset him. But he was pissed nonetheless, at the ridiculous ‘holier than thou’ people that seemed to be all over the town, and all knew Eugene and his family through the church or his father’s profession as a doctor or both. “Call me Allesandro then, if you wanna use somethin’ else so damn bad, I dare you.” 

“...Allesandro?” Eugene’s eyes were warm, curious, a small smile on his face.

“What? That’s my middle name, no one uses it and barely no one knows it. Don’t give a shit if the people round here know it,” he replied. “On earth is that look for?” 

Eugene was smiling wide now, blushing lightly. “It fits you. Plus...well, you know what it means?” 

“Nah. Mama said it was a French sorta version of Alexander. That’s as much as I know about it,” he said. He’d never thought to ask anything beyond that. 

“She’s right. And that names got a few meanings: guardian, defender, defender of men. Fits you,” Eugene said. 

“Oh yeah? Cause I was a soldier?” he asked. “I guess so, then.” 

“Yeah, but not just that, I mean...you defend me. Think there’s a lot you’d do to keep me safe, some of which I probably don’t even wanna know about,” Eugene laughed. “That’s what I mean, when I say it fits you.” 

He felt his face flush. “You’re right. And I owe you one, for keepin’ that old lady off my back.” 

“Nah. Just doin’ for you what I know you’d do for me. You’re really okay if I use it at church?” 

“You go for it, I give you permission,” he replied, counting in his head how many weeks it had been since his last time to church with Eugene. It had been awhile, longer than he’d intended since he knew it was important to Eugene. “How about Sunday, we try it out?” 

Eugene’s smile was perhaps one of the best things he could see, and this one shone brighter than the sun. 

It was worth getting up too goddamn early, wearing a suit he hated that was too goddamn warm for the always too warm church, and sitting while the church ladies fussed over them before and after. 

“We don’t see this one every Sunday,” one of the older ladies, maybe seventy, smiled sickly sweet, in a way he recognized as secretly saying “and you know exactly what we think about that.” 

“He’s a busy man, but he comes by when he can. I’m lucky to have such a good, hard-working-” 

“Friend, yes,” the lady interrupted, and he shared a look with Eugene. Friend was putting it rather mildly, though they were of course friends at the start and now. But Just Friends wasn’t correct, though he figured none of them at church had figured that out yet. 

“In any case, I’m glad he could be with me today,” Eugene continued, a bit tense now. He could see it in the corner of Eugene’s jaw, a grinding of the teeth. He knew Eugene might not completely snap and yell, but this lady was pushing it. 

“Mavis had told us you call this young man...well. I’m a proper woman, I don’t say such things...” the lady smirked. 

“Just a nickname, from my time in the war,” he spat. “Not much ‘proper’ over there, as I’m sure you’ll understand.” 

That shut her up for a moment, her eyes blinking rapidly as she reconfigured. “I...well...” 

“Allesandro here served with me. Best man to have by your side for anything, at all times,” Eugene said, and reached down to grab his hand, holding it tight. “Even here.” 

“...French? Where are you from...oh dear, I don’t want to mispronounce it,” the lady had flipped her script entirely, blushing now at him like he was some sort of romantic hero. “All-ess-an-dro? Have I got that right?” 

“Yeah. Uh. New Orleans, or near there at least. Family’s Cajun,” he replied, fighting back the frown her flip had inspired. 

“Cajun! Oh my,” she fanned herself with her church program. “Well, I think we’ll need you to bring this young man back again next Sunday, Eugene. Think I’d like to learn more about him, what you did in the war, and your family, oh and...” 

The lady went on, but he had stopped listening, and let Eugene take over responding. 

“Well now, he might be busy, but I’m sure if I ask nicely he might come back. Right, Allesandro?” Eugene’s voice saying his name brought him back to the conversation. 

“Yeah, just might. Long as Eugene here is with me,” he managed, but his mind wasn’t anywhere near a church. 

He let Eugene take the lead again, carefully pulling him out of the remaining crowd towards their car. 

Inside, he grinned as Eugene’s arm draped over his shoulders, the other hand on the wheel. “So? Was that okay?” 

“That was okay. More than okay,” he replied, letting his head drop onto Eugene’s shoulder. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. Like hearing you call me that.” 

“I mean...I can switch over to-” 

“Well,” he interrupted. “I still like my nickname more. But if you gotta use another name, I wanna hear that one.” 

Later in bed, it was what Eugene whispered to him, soft against his ear, then warm and begging after their night clothes had been tossed to the floor. It was a beautiful sound each time, and he knew it always would be so long as Eugene was the one saying it, the syllables dripping like honey from his tongue.

[lcdiablcblanc-moved]

CHARACTER SHEET.   

               please   repost,    don’t   reblog   &   tag   more   people !

basics  !

full name.      Remy Etienne LeBeau   /     Gambit.  nickname.     Le Diable Blanc,  Gumbo, Swamp boy, Swamp rat,   Ragin' Cajun,  monsieur baguette, Death.  gender.     cis   Male height.     6‘ 1″‘    ( 185 cm .  ) age.     34  (main verse.) birthday.   ? ? ? zodiac.     ? ? ? spoken languages.    English,  French, Spanish, Japanese, some ancient languages.   

physical characteristics  !

hair color.    Dark brown. (Lightens and reddens in the sunlight.) eye color.     Deep red with black sclera.  skin tone.     Fairly tanned, doesn’t usually burn.  body type.     lean   && muscular   accent.   His original accent if from New Orleans && NOT cajun. However, once he’s adopted by the LeBeau clan, young Remy begins to mimic their accent in hopes of connecting better with his new family. As an adult, he has a soft Cajun accent, (softer due to years living in the north with the x - man.) dominant hand.     ambidextrous. posture.    Straight, though he does a lot of leaning. (Against walls, leaning back on his chairs.) scars.     A small scar on his forehead from where he was shot. (Almost undetectable, unless under the light.) His fingers and hands are scarred with burn marks, from when he lost control of his power. His chest && stomach are riddled with scars. Remy has in the past used his own body to smuggle in things he can charge when he knew he was walking into a trap.) tattoos.     none,    most noticeable feature.   His eyes, they look like demon eyes && he grew up in a catholic community. 

childhood  !

place of birth.   New Orleans. Louisiana hometown.      New Orleans, he lived there till he was banished at 18, && ended up settling with the X men new york.  first words.     He doesn’t know. (Remy was raised on the streets by a street gang. Though I wouldn’t put it past being something like devil (devil boy, since that, was what they called him.) siblings.    Henry (Adopted older brother, deceased.)   Etienne  (Adopted Cousin, like a younger brother, also deceased.)    Laura Kinney (Younger sister figure.)  Jubilation Lee (younger sister figure.)

Parents.    Jean Luc LeBeau (Adopted father.) parental  involvement.    Jean Luc stole Remy from the hospital after his parents abandoned him but left him with a gang of street thief until he was adopted at age 8. Once adopted Jean luc taught Remy in was of the thieves, && while he might love Remy like a son, he still uses him to further the guild's plans.  Their relationship is bittersweet because Remy is grateful for being adopted && loved but...he also feels manipulated && like he has to reject a part of himself in order to live up to what Jean Luc wanted. 

adult life  !

occupation.    Mutant Teacher, X - Man,  Head of the Thieves Guild.   current residence.     new   york   city.      He owns several apartments in the city, he used to live at the boathouse in the X mansion.  close friends.      Ororo Munroe  (Storm.)  Laura Kinney (Wolverine.)  Bella Donna,   Fence,  Anna Marie (Rogue)  Dr Cecilia Reyes,  Jessan Hoan (Tyger Tiger) felicia hardy (Black Cat..)   Ziva King, Clint Barton. (Hawkeye.) Pete Wisdom.  relationship status.    verse  dependent   //   Married.  financial status.     Very Wealthy // But he’s still considered working class. Most of Remy's money is tired into the thieves guild, && his set of skills means he can always acquire necessary funds. ((His only honest income comes from teaching, so while he doesn't earn that much, he is the head of a criminal organisation and has access to a lot of funds.) driver’s license.   He has several under different names, some with contacts that make his eyes look more human.  criminal record.     he’s been on the most wanted list quite a few times but he’s never been arrested, so while he’s on watch lists, there’s no proof to arrest him. (Especially without causing conflict between humans && mutants.) vices.     Gambler, thief, smoker, when not in a relationship, Remy is known to have a lot of one night stands, && several friends with benefits. 

sex & romance  !

sexual orientation.    bisexual. romantic orientation.     biromantic  preferred emotional role.     submissive  |  dominant  |  switch preferred sexual role.    submissive  |  dominant  |  switch  |  sex repulsed. libido.   Very high, Remy is very sexual and expresses his feelings through touch.  turn on’s.     Bondage, kisses, touching the back of his neck, light touches, self-confidence,  quick wit.  turn off’s.     ignorance, bigotry,  cold-blooded killers, mystique!!  anyone calling him daddy (he’s not into that.) love language.     Touching, he likes to be touched, he likes to touch && he expresses himself through touch.  relationship tendencies.     Remy doesn't enter into committed relationships easily, but once he’s committed he finds it hard to move on, to give up. Even if they aren’t in the best place it’s very rare that Remy would just walk away without trying. He wants to be loved, but he’s scared of rejection && has so many abandonment issues.  He’s also quite the romantic. 

miscellaneous !

character’s theme song.    Devil Like Me  /  Rainbow kitten surprise.  hobbies to pass the time.    Reading, watching movies. (He’s a massive fandom nerd.) Basketball, (He’s very good at it.) Cooking, gambling, dating, motorbike riding,  mental illnesses.      untreated ptsd, (comes in the form of survivors guilt && self-destructive behaviour.) left or right brained.    Right. fears.    Loss of control, loss of loved ones, his past, Sinister, fear of rejection, being alone, (atm fear of losing Rogue again, In Mr & Mrs X comic, Remy thought Rogue died && he kept seeing her get hurt, he doesn’t want to lose her again, not when they are finally so close && happy.) self confidence level.      Ohhh boy, he’s very confident, too confident. (but he also thinks himself to be the worst...so yeah.) vulnerabilities.      stubborness,  pride, greed, he can be hot headed. (It takes a lot to push him but when he’s pushed, things start exploding.) Cocky, he can be selfish, && he struggles with forgiving himself. 

tagged  by :     stolen from @usafed​ tagging :      @atlantisking​ @shvgah​ @fbiartist​ @catdares​ @deliciouspants​ @dcvilcomplex​ @hitsharder​ @fierceststorm​ @redhoneyhq​ @tocxmply​ @sensesdialed​

[kcwcommentary]

VLD7x05 – “The Ruins”

7x05 – “The Ruins”

With the Paladin roster finalized as Keith in Black, Lance in Red, and Allura in Blue, and Shiro in nothing, and with the death of Zarkon, the title sequence for this show is antiquated. It now functions at the start of every episode as a reminder of what the show used to be. The opening title sequence for a show should always be a statement about what the show is, but this sequence is so far from what the show has become. The title sequence not matching the current content of the show highlights how the show has lost its sense of direction.

I like the first shot of this episode in that the nebula is pretty, the smallness of the Lions creates some of a sense of immensity for space. I don’t like the white trails behind the Lions though. They’re not shown to be moving through anything, so what’s creating the white trails behind them?

Hunk’s sleeping, and Keith yells, “Everybody up!”

Pidge is dreaming about getting “only [a] 99 on the test.” I guess some people – I’ll say Mitch Iverson, since he wrote this episode – think grade anxiety is funny. Grade anxiety comes from a lack of parental support. A kid thinks they have to earn the absolute highest grades possible to be able to keep their parent(s) from criticizing them, emotionally abandoning them, or even at the most extreme physically abusing them. Pidge has always had endless support from her family, so having her demonstrate having grade anxiety reveals this show sees intelligence as a caricature. The creators of this show, or at least the writer of this episode, included grade anxiety without having even a basic understanding of what it is. They just thought it’s funny how some clearly intelligent people are scared of not getting perfect grades. They’re mocking people with grade anxiety, not revealing character with Pidge.

Lance and Allura want to sleep some more. Romelle’s sideways on her bed, foot on the wall, head hanging off the side: her posture made me genuinely laugh.

Everyone except for Keith and Krolia have been sleeping. Keith says, “We can’t let this long journey make us soft or dull our skills.” It’s obnoxious for this show to have Keith equate the need for sleep with weakness. They have all been through really stressful events, it makes sense that they need to rest and recover.

Shiro speaks (what? he’s still a character on this show?). “Keith’s right. Routine is what got me through being Zarkon’s prisoner and being in the infinite void of the Black Lion.” What!? Having a routine can be very useful, but neither of Shiro’s citations are instances in which he created a routine for himself. Shiro was a prisoner. Prisoners don’t manage their time, those who imprison them do. If he had a routine while imprisoned, while having to literally fight for his survival, then it was because the routine was imposed on him by the Galra. As for being in the Black Lion’s psychic space, what exactly was that routine? Literally, what actions is he supposed to have done while disembodied and existing in endlessness? This line written for Shiro is ridiculous.

Keith won’t even give the other Paladins a chance to wake up, he’s already calling or them to conduct battle simulations. Krolia has programmed a new one. I still don’t feel that she’s earned the prominence this show is giving her character. She presents the challenge. “You’re on a planet with double gravity—” what does that even mean? double what? double Earth’s gravity? “—dense volcanic fog, and eight [some kind of] raptors are attacking. What do you do?” Keith thinks that “this is a good one.”

What’s the mission objective that’s supposed to be at the center of this simulation? They’re on a planet and local lifeforms are attacking. Okay, why are they on the planet? If the challenge is solely to survive the creatures, then just leave the planet.

One of the raptors latches onto the Yellow Lion, and Krolia yells, “A [whatever kind of] raptor just melted your face off, Hunk!” Krolia has not earned the position of integration into the group that she’s being written to have. It makes her presumptuous. I guess the personalities being demonstrated in this scene are supposed to make Krolia and Keith look like badass personality types, but it doesn’t work for me.

Krolia says, “Now it’s eight-on-four,” and Hunk quietly replies, “That’s fine by me. I’m eating.” If you’ve read much of my commentaries, you’ll know that I usually have a big problem with how this show writes Hunk and food, but I like his response here. I don’t blame him one bit. Hunk, you go get yourself some food.

The planet weirdly shoots like twenty-foot wide columns of lava hundreds of feet up into the air. It looks silly to me. Keith orders everyone to “split up to thin their numbers.” For a story that’s supposed to be about the development of a team, these guys don’t really work as a team often. If you’re being attacked, you have greater safety and defense as a group. That’s why a lot of animals have herds or flocks or schools. Separating from one another makes the group weaker. This is not good leadership or tactics. Keith gets hit by an energy blast from one of the raptors. What is with this show having so many animals that can emit weapons blasts?

For a place that has “thick volcanic fog,” as Krolia said and Pidge now repeats, they all can see really well. Does this show know what the word “fog” means? Pidge says that the raptors “must use some form of thermal vision to see us.” Again, this environment has been depicted as having high visibility, not any kind of fog, so the raptors could see just like the Paladins can. But also, if they use “thermal vision” on this volcanic planet, then the raptors would have a hard time seeing. Unless this show is making up something else with its use of the term “thermal vision,” what is being referenced is the ability to see into the infrared spectrum of light. Things that are warm radiate light in the infrared portion of the spectrum. If we humans could see infrared light, every time we looked at another person, they would be glowing. I like the idea of the show presenting creatures that see more of the spectrum that humans can, but what Pidge says here doesn’t make sense. She’s presenting the idea of the raptors having “thermal vision,” as their natural ability to see, that it’s somehow supposed to be an adaptation to living in “volcanic fog.” But if the raptors see infrared, then the heat of the “volcanic fog” would inhibit that vision. And the heat of the lava on the ground would be blinding. This show really cannot do science.

Lance says, “Maybe I can lure them away with my heat-rays.” Have the raptors been distracted by the large, hot plumes of lava that jet up off the surface? No? Then they wouldn’t care about Red’s fire cannon either. But Lance blasts some rock with his fire cannon, and the raptors fly off to check it out. It’s senseless, and thus contrived.

Allura, Lance, and Pidge all get taken out simultaneously by a lava plume. Krolia chastises them for having “focused too much on the raptors and forgot about the volcano.” I still don’t like Krolia. She says, “I programmed the simulator to be unbeatable. I wanted to see how long you survived.” In other words, Krolia wasn’t trying to help them with training whatsoever. This wasn’t designed for them to learn anything, not new skills, not something about their character, nothing. Krolia was just being a troll. She and Keith woke up people who needed rest in order to mess with them.

Hunk is making burritos. He packages six of them, ties them around the space wolf, who teleports them to the others. Krolia and Keith each get one. The wolf gives Alura, Romelle and Coran each one. Then suddenly, the wolf’s bundle has more than what Hunk put in it. Pidge takes two, one for her and one for Shiro. That leaves one for Lance. I guess this counts as an animation error? Hunk only put six in the bundle, but there are eight given out. Team Voltron kind of discuss the wolf, nothing that explains the wolf’s narrative importance or reason for being included in the show or anything, but his name. Hunk suggests “Cosmo.” Keith objects to the name, “I figure when he’s ready, he’ll tell me his name.” Does Keith actually think the wolf is going to talk? Keith lived with this wolf for two years while in the quantum abyss, and he hasn’t named him yet? Who has a pet for two years and doesn’t name them?

Lance likes the way the burritos taste but doesn’t want to know what’s in them, saying, “I just want to eat it and pretend that it’s my meemaw’s home cooking.” Lance is supposed to be Cuban. Why is he calling his grandmother “meemaw?” The best I can tell, Meemaw is a southern United States thing, and I’ve seen one suggestion that it’s derived from French through Cajun culture. Why is a Cuban guy using Cajun or southern United States slang for his grandmother? As a Cuban guy, wouldn’t Lance call his grandmother Abuela?

Pidge picks up a signal that she only identifies as, “a signal!” Allura reacts with, “How did you get a signal?” Unless the Lions’ communication systems are broken or the rest of the inhabitants of the universe, including all the Galra, ceased to exist, the Lions should be getting more than a few signals. Getting any particular one they’re looking for is different, but the idea that it’s such a surprise for them to have picked up any signal at all is absurd. What is the signal? A television show from Bii-Boh-Bi’s planet. Bii-Boh-Bi is not and never has been funny, can the show please stop using him and his species? Please!? Team Voltron watching the show goes on for far too long.

There is what Pidge thinks is some interference in the signal, but Krolia – because of course it’s Krolia because why have the main characters have any importance in this show when you can instead give the importance and time to a side character like Krolia – can tell that it’s not interference. She has Pidge “amplify that signal.” She then listens to it with her eyes closed. Pidge says that it’s “just deep space interference.” Krolia says that that is “just what it’s supposed to sound like. Listen to the sounds in between the pulses. There’s a unique pattern.” Only after Krolia says this does the sound design for the show actually start including a specific beep to correspond with what Krolia is identifying. That beep did not exist in the sound until after she says so. That seems like bad sound design to me; the beep should have been there the whole time.

Krolia says, “Before the Blades were unified, we would use this crude way of communicating with each other.” Uh, when were the Blades not unified? Is this some undetailed period of the Blades’ history that the show hasn’t ever presented? Why am I expecting this show to have anything be deeper than the shallow instantaneous and fleeting use of anything just because it suits the individual moment of its usage? “Not many Blades know this code,” she says. “It must be a senior member.” I guess that means that she’s also supposed to be a senior member?

She says it’s a distress signal. They trace the signal to a specific area, which Hunk says is “a pretty severe detour from Earth.” So severe that it lasts only this one episode. So, yeah, not severe at all. Dialog like Hunk’s has no meaning, no impact on the story. It’s not like diverting to check out this signal will make them late to Earth and something bad will happen while they’re on this detour. The bad thing that’s happened to Earth has already happened because of the time jump (I’m still significantly annoyed by the time jump’s plot hole).

Cut to the Lions arriving at the planet where the signal’s coming from. That was such a big detour that it happened instantly. The planet is one of the most ludicrous planets this show has done. Like, it’s bad even for this show. It’s maybe the size of an asteroid, but it’s jagged and has weird holes and slopes. This show doesn’t even try, does it? Pidge says there are signs of a former civilization, but no signs of life. There are broken buildings. Team Voltron walks around – remember how the space wolf was injured and that’s why he supposedly couldn’t help Coran two episodes ago, well that’s resolved with no resolution.

Krolia says, “The signs are all around us. There was a massacre here.” This episode is really giving Krolia a disproportionately large amount of the script. It’s just so frustrating for a side character to be given so much screen-time, but main characters, like Shiro are nearly non-existent.

Allura says, “Some of this damage looks like it’s from magic.” What does that even mean? What are the characteristics of building damage that indicate it comes from magic? Ultimately, this line from Allura is leading. The show knows that the villain of the episode is one of Haggar’s Druids, so it has Allura make this comment to foreshadow that. Allura saying this right now though feels totally forced and manufactured.

Krolia says that some of the “strike patterns,” scratches in the rock, “look Mamoran.” If this signal is supposed to be a Mamoran signal, then is it a surprise that they might have gotten into a fight here? I know this episode thinks it’s setting up some mystery, but it doesn’t feel mysterious.

The space wolf growls and runs off and tackles someone to the ground. Keith yells at the guy, asking, “Who are you? Who’s broadcasting the signal?” Why does Keith assume this guy knows anything about the signal? Oh yeah, because characters make whatever assumptions the writers need them to, rather than behaving in a way that’s actually natural.

The guy says that he’s the one who’s broadcasting it, and Keith replies, “Impossible! You’re not Blade of Marmora!” What is Keith basing that on? Keith doesn’t know every Blade in the universe. If he’s basing it solely on the clothing the guy is wearing, then that’s senseless. Keith’s a member of the Blades, but he’s not wearing a Blade uniform currently. Krolia’s a Blade, but she’s not wearing a Blade uniform right now either. Why would Keith assume this guy couldn’t be a Blade? Again, it’s the writer leading the story, rather than the story unfolding in a natural way. The writer knows that this isn’t a Blade, so I guess it’s supposed to be foreshadowing. It gives the writing an unnatural, jerky development.

They let him up, and he takes them to his campfire. Romelle calls the location of what looks like someone struggling to survive “disgusting.” Good to know that her experience hasn’t changed her pampered, privileged mindset. At least she gets called out on her insult. She tries to cover, but it’s obnoxious. “‘Disgusting’ is Altean for lovely. You don’t speak Altean, do you?” She could have been written to recognize her privilege and apologize for her insult, but no. I don’t like Krolia, and I don’t like Romelle either. Ugh.

Pidge confirms the signal is from here. The masked guy reveals he knows they’re the Paladins of Voltron. Shiro asks him what happened here. The masked guy, with an ominous voice, says, “Bloodshed happened here. Death happened here.” I actually kind of like this line and how he sounds saying it. It actually has some creepiness to it. He identifies himself as Macidus and says that this is his home planet and that he’s the only one left alive here.

Krolia finds a not-really concealed set of blades from Blades of Marmora. She immediately turns her gun on him. He says he has them arranged as they are “in honor of their sacrifice. They died trying to protect the universe.” Knowing that he’s eventually revealed to be a Druid, he’s not exactly lying in saying that, the Blades were trying to protect the universe from people like him.

Macidus tells them how this all started when Voltron disappeared. He says that the “power vacuum that ensued destabilized much of the universe.” That again makes Voltron’s turn against Lotor look totally short-sighted. The problem I have with this is that, while this does reveal consequences to the Paladins’ actions, I never get a sense of them actually taking responsibility for those consequences.

Allura asks, “what happened to Haggar, the witch,” and Macidus says, “no one knows, but her Druids continued her work.” What work is that? This is a big part of my dislike of Haggar: Whatever she does off-screen that’s supposed to be so villainous is almost never shown. What her goals are for these actions are not revealed. We know that Honerva was obsessed with quintessence, and that drove her to poisoning herself. We know she would create Robeasts to attack Voltron, but that was mostly in support of Zarkon and his dictatorship. We know she used the komar (are we to assume there was ever only one komar?) to extract quintessence from the life on planets, but we only ever see that done once. We know she had a particular interest in Shiro – “You could have been our greatest weapon,” she said to him in 1x13 “The Black Paladin – but we have no idea why she was interested in him or what she was planning in thinking of him as a weapon. Are we supposed to think that she was just accumulating miscellaneous weapons? It’s not like Voltron had reemerged at the point she had started thinking of Shiro as a weapon, so with the Galra dominating the universe, what were the Galra lacking that meant they needed more weapons? We know she oversaw the clone program, but there was never anything that suggested the Druids were involved with that; instead, it seemed more like that was a secret side project she had. And we never are given an explanation as to why she was having so many Shiro clones produced.

So, Voltron has been missing for three years. Haggar hasn’t been seen in that time either. Given season eight, we’re supposed to understand that during these three years, she found Lotor’s colony hidden in the quantum abyss, establishing a relationship with the Alteans there, hyping them up into a vengeful fury against Voltron for killing Lotor, and using whatever powers she gained from killing the White Lion in Oriande searches through all the other realities to find one that she thinks of as being perfect? I guess I’ll get to all that when I get to those episodes, but the topic of who’s the show’s antagonist is a topic relevant to now. Once we get to Earth and dealing with the invasion and occupation there, Sendak becomes the primary antagonist. But Sendak has always only been a secondary antagonist. That’s one of the many weaknesses of the story in season seven. The villains are shallow. Ezor and Zethrid were villains for two episodes because they wanted power. Sendak wants to conquer and dominate. Haggar is off-screen, at best, only slightly coming into play with the Altean-controlled mecha at the end of season. There is no character motivation grounding the antagonism of the conflict of the season. That’s not to say the show has ever been all that great at having compelling villains because it hasn’t, but at least in the first two seasons Zarkon and Haggar worked as foils for Shiro and Allura. There was a character connection there. And as much as I hate that they played the Lotor’s-secretly-been-a-villain-all-along absurdity for seasons three through six, at least he was emotionally connected to Allura. But here in season seven, anyone that can be identified as the antagonist could be easily replaced by any other character and things are really still the same. Consider this season’s story, but instead of Sendak, it’s another Galra like Ranveig or Gnov from back in season five. The story doesn’t change whatsoever. Sendak behaves the same as every other villainous Galra.

Macidus says that Haggar’s final order to the Druids was to destroy the Blades of Marmora. Another problem with this is we don’t know anything about the Druids. Who are they? Why are they Druids? How are they Druids? They all use magic, so do they come by that magic on their own, and in demonstrating magic are recruited by Haggar into the Druids? Or does Haggar teach them magic after they join the Druids? Part of me kind of likes the Druids because they’re differentiated from regular Galra, but I find them frustrating because they don’t feel like characters. They’re masks and magic, and that’s it.

Pidge says, “After Lotor took over the throne, almost every Mamoran agent was exposed.” They were? This supposedly-multiple-millennia old covert organization failed to maintain their cover because Lotor became Emperor? This is a huge deal that’s never come up before. Did the Blades suddenly become incompetent when Lotor became Emperor? I could understand maybe Kolivan became exposed because he was broadcasting his face all over the universe when communicating with the Voltron Coalition, but every other Blade took explicit measures to conceal their identities. How were they exposed? This does not make sense.

Macidus says that “all Blades were called from their assignments and sent to this base. Kolivan knew they were being hunted and wanted to make a stand against them.” Are we to assume that the Druids were just so good at magic that the Blades’ covert methods were no protection? The Blades could conceal their existence for thousands of years, but now for no reason they couldn’t? Maybe this is the problem with all this story being told through exposition. None of the logistics of this have been thought through by the creative team.

Macidus continues, “When they arrived here, my people helped them fortify their base.” So, Kolivan wanted a base for the Blades to be able to defend against Druid attacks, and he chose an inhabited planet? I know Macidus is spinning a tale here, but thinking of it logistically, this planet has been established as having once had a civilization on it. Unfortunately, this means that once again this show reduces the concept of a civilization to a few hundred people and one city – they did it with Arus, they did it with the mermaids, they did it with Taujeerians, it also feels like they did it with the Olkari. The population of planets in this show are unbelievably too low.

“The Druids […] arrived without warning.” How were there no monitoring systems for this planet or from the Blades? Throughout human history, we monitor the borders of our respective territories, but not here.

The conflict was supposedly a long one. Casidus refers to it as “a long battle of attrition.” I guess. “Casualties on both sides were enormous.” There have only ever been a handful of Druids in this show. So, these enormous casualties had to have just been regular Galra. This show has had the Paladins blow up a lot of Galra, so this “both sides” crap feels manipulative. But then, Macidus is being manipulative, but his ruse should be such that he doesn’t care about the Druid+Galra side. Is this supposed to be another hint that Macidus is not who he’s pretending to be? The Druids have never been shown to care about Galra death before; like with Haggar, the Galra have always seemed as nothing more than pawns for them to use. I can’t believe that Macidus now cares about the Galra who died under his command.

“My people were the first to try to escape,” and they’re shown running through the city streets. I thought this was supposed to have been a war of attrition? That would require the Blades and this planet’s people to have hunkered down in a strong defensive situation. That’s antithetical to escaping. Macidus says he stayed behind with Kolivan, who “led those of us who remained to battle the last of the Druids, but for each one we were able to take down, nearly a hundred Blades would fall.” Again, there have only been a handful of Druids in this show. Allura, Kolivan, and Antok – just the three of them – were able to kill two Druids while also fighting Haggar in 2x13 “Blackout.” So, the Druids are more powerful now without Haggar than they were when they literally fought alongside her? I know that Macidus is spinning a tale, but is any of what he’s saying supposed to be considered accurate? And if it’s not, if this is all a total lie, then this episode is giving way too damn much time to his telling this tale. You don’t write a character to tell a tale like this unless most, if not all, of it is true. This conflict between the Druids and the Blades feels totally disproportionate to what we’ve seen of both Druid and Blade in the past.

Krolia can apparently “recognize every one of these blades.” She’s got a really good memory then. “I trained many of them myself.” This makes her character feel even more over-important than she’s felt already. Kolivan’s blade momentarily glows. I thought a blade only glowed for its owner. I guess the way the blades function for the Blades of Marmora is another instance of the show’s magic system never being defined. Krolia concludes that Kolivan must be still alive, and Macidus, with the cliché voice of an 80s villain, says, “Just barely.”

Surprise everyone! Isn’t everyone surprised? Macidus has tricked you all!

“Your hand is looking much better,” Macidus says to Keith, referencing way back to 1x12 “Collection and Extraction,” when Keith’s hand was injured fighting the Druid and was healed when quintessence accidentally splashed on it. That happened so long ago that it feels, not like a long-range plan for the story, but like someone in the writing staff went back and rewatched the first season and realized they never really explained that moment in that episode.

“You’ve been using that signal to draw Blades in,” Keith says. Thank you for stating the obvious, Keith. The Druid cackles like an empty, cliché villain. He teleports away, and in his place a grenade falls to the ground. Krolia yells, “No!” in slow motion as it explodes. It’s silly. The space wolf teleports to Keith and teleports him away from the explosion. The explosion creates a pink bubble of energy, and everyone is stopped inside it. I guess it’s some kind of time-stop bomb?

Keith, the wolf, and the Druid are in some tunnels. Keith and the wolf initially just walk off to the side, but then are suddenly underneath the platform the Druid is walking on. I guess the Druid is just assuming that his bomb took out everyone? Despite the thin, wooden walkway he’s clomping across, the Druid stops because he hears something somehow over his loud footsteps. I guess maybe he magically sensed something since magic is whatever the writers want it to be at any given moment in this show. A canister rolls out of nowhere, and the Druid zaps it with purple lightning and walks away. Keith turns around, and boom, the Druid is behind him and stabs down through the platform. His aim with the stab is not even remotely accurate though. I guess he’s supposed to have teleported to behind Keith after having walked away. It feels more like a fake gotcha moment.

The space wolf teleports Keith away. The Druid follows. Keith slashes at the Druid’s mask, and it breaks and falls away, revealing the Druid’s face. He doesn’t look Galra to me. He has no nose and circular ears. I don’t know if he and/or the Druids are supposed to be Galra or what. He screams and attacks. Keith fights using his Marmoran blade rather than his bayard. It makes me think of how Keith gets two weapons while Shiro gets none.

A ball of energy starts to glow in Allura’s hand, and then that quick piece of a scene cuts back to Keith. The Druid keeps teleporting after Keith, Keith and the wolf run and teleport. By happenstance, Keith and the wolf end up in a room where Kolivan is suspended by ropes from the ceiling.

The Druid arrives, and complains, “Our high priestess Haggar has forsaken us because of your treachery. But after I kill you and the other Paladins, Haggar will allow me to return.” Because the show does not show us her “forsak[ing]” the Druids, this is mostly just confusing. We’re not told or shown any specifics of what happened. Did Haggar tell the Druids off? Did she just disappear? Both could be considered her having “forsaken” them, but they’re still very different. Macidus seems to connect, I guess, the Paladins’ killing Lotor to Haggar’s leaving. I guess Haggar’s supposed to have blamed Voltron for it, but we’ve never seen anything to show what Haggar knows about Lotor’s death. The last we saw of Haggar was in 6x05 “The Black Paladins” when Lotor told her off, Axca tried to shoot her, and Haggar teleported away. Is it supposed to be that Haggar irrationally blames the Paladins for the emotional rift she created when she abused Lotor? If Haggar has forsaken the Druids, if they haven’t seen her for years, then how does Macidus think he’ll be able to present his having killed the Paladins to her? I imagine the show would just say, he’s a villain, he’s not thinking clearly, thus nothing has to make sense within the narrative. That’s just lazy writing.

The Keith-wolf-Macidus teleport battle resumes. Allura’s ball of energy glows blue, the air swirls around them, and then poof. The sphere of pink energy disappears and Allura is left glowing pink. I guess she’s supposed to have absorbed the time-stop energy? Allura asks Pidge to “lock on to Keith’s location,” and conveniently, he’s “right directly below us.” Allura slams her hand into the ground, which cracks underneath her. She blasts through to the chamber Keith is in. I guess the blast vaporized all the rock because there’s almost no debris. The other Paladins join Allura in jumping down into the chamber. They fight Macidus, and he knocks them around too easily. Again, I think back to Allura, Kolivan, and Antok killing two Druids while those Druids fought alongside Haggar, and that makes Macidus seem overpowered. He teleports behind Allura and zaps her unconscious.

Macidus looks at Keith and teleports away. Keith then closes his eyes, somehow sees flashes of where Macidus is (if he’s invisible) or will be (if he finishes a teleport to wherever he’s going to appear). Keith throws his blade at where Macidus appears, hitting him. What is this power? Since when does Keith have magic sensing powers?

Macidus has a couple of blue lightning sparks and then he glows and explodes. The other Druids we’ve seen killed didn’t explode like this, so what’s causing this other than inconsistent writing and production?

They get Kolivan down. He’s injured, but alive and will recover. We find out now that Keith gave Kolivan the coordinates of the Altean colony. Why this hasn’t been brought up before now, I don’t know. Kolivan says he “sent a team. There was nothing there, just an empty facility.” Keith would have had to have given Kolivan the coordinates sometime between the end of 6x02 “Razor’s Edge” and the beginning of 6x04 “The Colony” because he was too busy with fighting the clone and Lotor after “The Colony.” Did Kolivan sit on the information until sometime after Voltron was under the effects of the time skip during the battle with Lotor (again, ignoring the plot hole that Coran, Krolia, Romelle, and the clone would have experienced the three years that passed outside the rift since the Castle Ship never went in)? When did Haggar collect the Alteans from the colony?

I know throughout the entirety of this episode’s commentary, I’ve put a lot of work into trying to understand the logistics of events that are only halfway referenced, at best, and take place entirely off-screen. I have probably put more work into understanding this than the creative team did in writing it. I really doubt that any of them cared if any of this really made sense or not. Keith got to have a supposedly exciting fight alongside his magic space wolf, that’s all that mattered to them, really.

Kolivan says that he has to “find the others. The universe needs us now more than ever.” So, did any of the battle that Macidus described in his tale even happen? Or did he only capture Kolivan and lure other Blades to this location one-by-one to kill them? The show is not clear about what has actually happened.

Krolia declares she’ll join Kolivan to help rebuild the Blades of Marmora. At least she won’t be here to take up so much of the story for a while. She goes to Keith and says, “I’m sorry to have to say goodbye to you for a second time.” Yeah, remember when she revealed herself as his mother back in 5x05 “Bloodlines” when she couldn’t control herself in the moment and said, “I left you once. I’ll never leave you again,” remember that? Yeah, that overwhelming amount of emotion that got to her in that moment no longer exists. She’s going to leave Keith. I don’t mind her leaving (beyond my being tired of her character) because they’re both adults and they’re both fighters in a huge conflict. But her leaving here makes her previous proclamation that she would “never leave [him] again” lose meaning. It takes away whatever emotion that part of the story had. It makes her declaration hollow. Once again, this show has flipped a switch narratively, and things are just different now just because. Keith gives her his Marmoran blade, and they hug. “Thanks for everything you taught me, Mom,” Keith says. Of course, we have no idea what any of these supposed things she taught him are since almost all of their relationship has happened off-screen.

“Keith, it’s time to get going,” Shiro says. Oh? Shiro’s still in this show? Of course, the show would have it be Shiro to be the one to interrupt Keith and his mother’s moment. And why are the Paladins so eager to leave right this very minute? I know they want to get to Earth, but they’re all still in the decompression phase of this conflict with Macidus. This separation feels forced.

Krolia and Keith tell each other they love each other then cut to the Lions flying away from the planet.

I like the premise of this episode. I like bringing the Druids back into the story, but that’s mostly because the show has never treated the Druids like characters and I’ve always wanted to learn more about them. While we get a Druid as an actual character in this episode, because of his lying, we have no idea what he says is true and what he says is a lie. We still don’t have any sense of the actual organizational relationship between Haggar and the Druids.

This episode having Macidus be the specific Druid that Keith fought in “Collection and Extraction,” while kind of cool to have a reference back to that early in the show, it reminds me about Keith’s hand seemingly being healed by the quintessence. If quintessence, and not Allura’s generated quintessence, but the refined quintessence ripped from living creatures can heal wounds, then how is quintessence a substance that poisons people so that they lose control of themselves? So, unfortunately, this episode just leaves me with more questions than it answered.

While I spent a lot of time trying to understand the logistics of off-screen events, and I don’t think much of it makes sense, and I know that a lot of my questions have no answers because the show’s creative team never thought to have answers for them, this episode is still way better than the past three.

[sohannabarberaesque]

What Super Snooper and Blabbermouse weren't quite expecting @ the Minnesota State Fair:

SUPER SNOOPER, checking through a guide to "on-a-stick" eateries at the fair: Who would have believed, Blab, that you've got 99 "on-a-stick" options here at the Minnesota State Fair, 22 of them for hot dogs alone!

BLABBERMOUSE, trying to make things clear: And just so you know, those Pronto Pups have a flour batter while Poncho Dogs and Jumbo Dogs have cornmeal batters ... meanwhile, what exactly did you have in mind?

SUPER SNOOPER: Blab, I thinks it beholds me to get the "real deal", otherwise known as a corn dog, made with nothing less than real cornmeal batter! And I understands there's one place which uses cracked field corn in its cornmeal batter--

BLABBERMOUSE: Which, I assume, would be worth the try, Snoop?

[Meanwhile, a run-in with no less than--]

WALLY GATOR, inevitably bound to be peeved: I assume you're aware of a certain place, Cajun Bob's by name, that sells deep-fried alligator on a stick ... no doubt an insult to my species, don't you know...

SUPER SNOOPER: Thanks kindly for the advice, uh--

WALLY GATOR: No less than Wally Gator, swingin' alligator of the swamp ... who's bound myself to try a few of those "on-a-stick" goodes they keep talking about here, don't you know ... well, whadd'ya know, deep-fried candy bars on a stick! Battered Milky Way bars, here I come!!

SUPER SNOOPER, chuckling: That's Wally Gator for yous, Blab--always something of a laugh riot when you least expect it, even when it comes to on-a-stick foods! [To BLABBERMOUSE:] Uh, let's see, Blab ... let's see what else is up on the "on-a-stick" menu ... grilled salmon, grilled shrimp, tater-tot hot dish on--[dumbfounded] TATER-TOT HOT DISH ON A STICK? Blab, don't tell me things have gotten weirder and weirder on the stick!

PETER POTAMUS, just passing along and himself chowing down on a Minnekabob with a side of deep-fried olives "on a stick": You ain't seen the half of the weirdness in foods on a stick!

SUPER SNOOPER: Uh, Peter Potamus, before you bloviate into your Hippo Hurricane Holler act, you might like to know where Wally Gator was going to try some deep-fried candy bars on a stick!

PETER POTAMUS, dumbfounded: You mean they actually have deep-fried candy bars on a stick?!! Tell me what else is weird in that department!

BLABBERMOUSE: Some other stuff you can find on a stick here includes grilled chicken breast, grilled pork chops, falafel, marinated vegetables, gyros ...

SUPER SNOOPER: Even balls of pizza dough as are, uh, baked and served with dipping sauce ... frozen iced coffee bars ... pierogies ... Rice Kristie bars ... cheesecake--

PETER POTAMUS: I heard a rumour that you can get key lime pie on-a-stick here, too!

BLABBERMOUSE: You are so correct there!

PETER POTAMUS: And macaroni-and-cheese on a stick?

SUPER SNOOPER: That is, uh, correct. Not to mention Chinese egg rolls, Vietnamese egg rolls, Scotch egg--

PETER POTAMUS: Now what exactly is this "Scotch egg"?

SUPER SNOOPER: It's, uh, a hard-boiled egg rolled up in sausage and breadcrumbs, like, and then deep-fried.

PETER POTAMUS: Rather intriguing ... and I hear they've also got deep-fried pickles, mashed potatoes--

BLABBERMOUSE: Not to mention deep-fried chocolate chip cookie dough on a stick--

PETER POTAMUS, dumbfounded at the revelations: I just have to wonder if I still have any Tums left ... [Makes a run to the nearest stand for bottled water, sensing that all this talk about deep-fried food made him thirsty ... and in the process, our detective duo decides to head for Famous French Fries to have a modest little cup between them ...]

SUPER SNOOPER, going through another finger's worth of French fries: Sometimes, Blab, this "on-a-stick" food kick ain't easy to get over ... and besides, isn't it better to have something more rational for once in the foods arena on occasion at the fair?

BLABBERMOUSE, fingers soaked in ketchup as much as the oil from the fries: You couldn't have said better, Snoop ... do you think one of those Juicy Lucys ought be in order?

SUPER SNOOPER: Blab? And ruin our jackets with the grease spewing from one of those things?

[Meanwhile, "just passing by"--]

NORVILLE "SHAGGY" ROGERS, taking stock of the scene: Like, Scoob, things at the Fair couldn't get more interesting than what I just ran into--Super Snooper and Blabbermouse having French fries and taking stock of the scene.

SCOOBY-DOO: Rooper Rnooper? Rabberrouse? Really?

"SHAGGY": Scoob ... how about some fruit-on-a-stick?

[spookykidindakitchen]

We loved New Orleans, so I brought a little home.

Hi, my name is Alan. Some people know me as Spooky, while, hopefully some of you know me from various food columns and recipes published in the Cadiz Record, the Kentucky New Era and the Paducah Sun.

I love to cook, especially for my friends and family. For the longest time, my sidekick was my colleague and buddy Hawkins Teague. We’ve both moved away and met and married beautiful wives, but that’t not what this is all about. 

My wife Holly and I live in Paducah, where I’ve been working for myself as a freelance writer for the past six years. My specialty is role-playing games, though an old college friend from Tampa, Fla., Kali Robinson requested I should blog with my recipes again. That’s what iSabroso! is all about. Food, fun and friends!

Why iSabroso!? I grew up in both Texas and Florida surrounded by some of the best Latino cooks in the world. When something is really good we said iSabroso! I used that my name for my column in Hopkinsville.

So what’s for dinner? I am glad you asked. Holly and I vacationed in New Orleans last year and loved every moment. Some of the best meals I ate there consisted of shrimp and grits. The natives even eat it for breakfast, and it’s great in the morning with a Bloody Mary, just in case the party ran too long the day before. Our first night there, we tried it in a fine dining restaurant called Luke, while on another occasion, I got a bowl at the famous Ruby Slipper Cafe.

Ruby Slipper was especially fun, with a helpful and friendly bartender/server we nicknamed “Sarah Silverman,” who kept our boozy iced coffees full. Another waitress told us about grits when she brought out our food. Her boyfriend worked at another restaurant, and she shared some of the grits he made earlier. New Orleans is one of those places with no shortage of great places to eat.

To get to the point, both types of spicy, cheesy and creamy grits tasted amazing, and the barbecue shrimp I had with it was amazing. Luke’s grits and shrimp were great too, with some extra crabmeat. And when I came home, Holly and I talked all about how to cook it for ourselves.

I went selected the barbecue shrimp, because I could not get enough of it, and it contained one of my very favorite ingredients, beer! And if you have a little leftover after you cook, it’s quite refreshing on a hot summer day.

The Method to the Madness:

So this is also a fairly simple, two part recipe. Shrimp and grits, which around here, I refer to simply as “Shrimpandgrits” all one word. You have to say the whole thing, like “A Tribe Called Quest.”

Entonces.. (So?) we start with the grits. And do NOT used instant grits. That’s a hard no because they just don’t work for this recipe. We’re not discussing just some mush with a bit of cheese tossed on top. Other grits work, though I could only find quick grits, which work for the recipe. That just means they’re milled a little finer.

For the Grits:

Take two tablespoons of butter and saute about two roasted red peppers, a quarter cup of onions and about a third cup of diced jalapenos, just until the onions soften a bit. 

Add three cups of water and one cup of milk, then bring it to a boil. Add a cup of dry grits, return to a boil, reduce the heat and cover, cooking for about 5 minutes at a low simmer. After this, remove the lid and add a cup of grated sharp Cheddar cheese, and another cup of Monterrey Jack? Why two kinds of cheese? The Cheddar gives it a full flavor, but is a bit dry, so the Jack adds just a bit of moisture and creaminess. Season with about a teaspoon of pepper and a like amount of salt. Stir it all up and keep it on low heat on the back burner while we go to work on the shrimp.

Para los Moriscos... (Guess what that means?):

We’re not starting with shrimp here just yet, but instead some bacon. I prefer a brand cured right here in west Kentucky. Chop up about two slices of bacon and put it in the skillet while cold, turning the heat to medium to render some fat. 

When the bacon is done to your preferred level of crispness, add it to the grits, and stir them into the grits, while reserving the fat. 

Into the bacon grease, fry about a pound of sliced green onion sausage to doneness. Green onion sausage is a popular New Orleans product adding a bit of spice and a lot of flavor. If you can’t find it, you can use Andouille, Kielbassa or other smoked sausages.

Then, add a good half-bag (16 oz). of frozen “Trinity” seasoning blend vegetables. What’s Trinity you ask? Brilliant question. The “Holy Trinity” of Cajun cuisine is onion, bell pepper and celery. Season with just a bit of salt (a pinch really) and a fair amount of pepper and cook til the onions soften, then add about three tablespoons of garlic cooking just a minute longer. Burnt garlic can be bitter.

I’m not quite sure why it’s called barbecue shrimp. It’s neither grilled nor smoked, but it sure comes with a sauce. For the sauce, add about a quarter cup Worcestershire sauce. We’ll season it up with 1/2 teaspoon of Cayenne, and about a tablespoon of Cajun seasoning. With the encouragement of Holly’s friend Michelle Divito, a longtime New Orleans transplant and a fellow Heathen with my wife, I tried some Slap Yo Mama. It adds both salt and spice, and tasted great. I added more black pepper to taste and a teaspoon of dried rosemary. A couple of bay leaves would have been good, but I ran out. I added the juice of one lemon, though my favorite is two limes.

Now take a half cup of the beer, I prefer Abita, but could not find any yesterday. Yuengling (with a satellite brewery in Tampa!) came to my rescue. Add it into the vegetables, sausage and sauce for about 10 minutes to reduce. Then in goes a pound of shrimp!

A note on shrimp: Get the freshest you can find. A little seafood shop here in town had it and the sausage. They take a truck down to the Gulf of Mexico, buy fresh seafood straight off the dock, and throw it on ice, driving it back to Paducah. Wild caught, and not farmed, frozen and shipped from abroad, it tastes great. They’ll even peel and de-vein for a modest charge.

So shrimp in the sauce, cook for only 2-4 minutes until your shrimp turns pink. Any longer than that, and your shrimp can get tough, rubbery and not a lot of fun to eat.

But Wait, Alan! There’s No Veggies:

Well, we have to make it a balanced meal. Chop and fry about three strips of bacon, rendering as above in another skillet, then toss in about 3/4 a head of chopped green cabbage. You can season it with about a half teaspoon of salt and pepper, though again, I replaced the salt with Slap Yo Mama. Stir fry until the cabbage is wilted.

When it all comes out, get a bowl of the grits, top it off with shrimp, sausage and sauce, with a generous side of fried cabbage. Hint: When you get the beer, get a six pack, and enjoy a few with dinner. ;) We didn’t have a bread, with plenty of starch with the grits. If you prefer, the shrimp works with French bread, steamed white rice, buttermilk biscuits or hush puppies. Be sure to get some sauce, though and garnish with sliced green onions.

We love hot sauce. Any Louisiana brand works great, though I went with Zaterain’s while Holly selected Chrystal’s. And yes, we have multiple types of hot sauce for different types of food. Tabasco, Louisiana, Slap Yo Mama and others are perfect for Cajun food.

Evening’s Entertainment:

So as I cooked, I put on Silence of the Lambs on TV, followed by the series Hannibal, teasing My Better Half, “This might not be appropriate with supper!” And true to form, when I sat down, she asked me to change the channel without my Jame Gumb impersonation that Holly despises.

As we ate, I switched to the Hulu series, “A Handmaid’s Tale.’ It’s one of Holly’s favorites, though, as they’ve now moved beyond the source material, I am looking for direction in the story. This week’s episode seemed t provide it, and it provided good viewing as we scuzzled generous plates of shrimpandgrits.

Well, I’m back to work, cooking for all the friends and family I love, and last night, a good time was had by all, with authentic New Orleans food, and an entertaining show. Good eating. 

[purplesurveys]

484

This is about to get crazy, are you ready? I’ve taken almost a couple thousand surveys in the last seven years. There isn’t one question I wouldn’t be able to handle, I’m sure. Let’s go. Have you ever done cocaine? Never. Where did you buy the shirt you're wearing right now? My mom got it from an ukay-ukay. I’m not exactly sure how that translates to English but it’s sort of like a flea market in the Philippines. What song would best describe your love life? I keep using the same song but it’s Still Into You by Paramore. What are you going to do after this? I’m not sure. I keep answering this question but I never end up doing what I write down. I’ll probably eat the Popeye’s burger I’ve been saving for midnight :))

Are you wearing jeans? Ooooh, you caught me. I never wear jeans but I just got home from a date with Gab, and I just happen to have not changed out of my jeans yet. Have you ever kissed the last person you texted? Many times. Has anyone ever called you a whore? No. I’ve been called a bitch to my face though, which is a liiiiiiittle close. Who were you last in a car with? Gabie. I picked her up and brought her home today. Are you in a good mood right now? A little bit, yeah! I had an amazing day with the gf today if it hasn’t been obvious enough already. I fiiiinally satisfied my Popeye’s craving too. I’m a little stacked with work at the moment but I’m trying not to focus on that. Has anyone ever told you that you have pretty eyes? No. My eyes aren’t really my face’s strong suit. Have you lost interest in someone recently? I haven’t. Is there anyone who you think you deserve an apology from? Filipino parents never apologize to their kids, so I’ve been waiting for tons of apologies from them over the years. Have you ever played the guitar? I have. I’m not any good at it. Has anything "cute" happened in the past week? My dog. Could you handle living with the last person you talked to on the phone? I would love to live with her. Best roommate ever. Do you ever take your anger out on others? When I get really really really really pissed off, it tends to happen. I always feel like shit after I do, though. What grade is the last person you texted in? She’s also an incoming senior in university/college. Do you still talk to the person you had feelings for 6 months ago? Well, I’m definitely still dating her. Do you know what you want to be when you grow up? I don’t know what I want to be, but I know where I want to be working in. Has anyone seen you in your underwear lately? Sure. Where's your phone right now? It’s right beside me. Have you ever liked someone older than you? I’ve had silly childhood crushes on people older than me but I’ve only ever seriously liked two people who turned out to be the same age.   Are you the oldest child? The youngest? In the middle? Only child? I’m the eldest. Would you rather be called 'honey' or 'baby'? Baby. Honey has a sarcastic ring to it, not a huge fan. Was the first person to text you today a boy or a girl? Girl. Is there anyone who doesn't like you because of something you did? Probably. :) Not that it bothers me though. When did you last say "I love you"? Did you mean it? A little while ago. Of course. Are you talking to anyone right now? Nope, not anymore. Gab fell asleep a few minutes ago. Is there someone who pops into your mind at random times? A lot of people pop up in my head at random times. My mind’s always running. What or who is on your mind right now? Right now I’m thinking of Camila Cabello because I’m listening to her song Señorita lmfao. Right handed or left handed? Righty. Have you ever had chicken pox? I’ve never had it. People always warn me that everyone’s bound to get it throughout their lives, and they always make it such a big deal that my chicken pox is just a silent ticking time bomb waiting to go off lol. It’s gotten me scared honestly, and I’m just waiting for it to happen so that I can get immune to it already. Did you buy anything today? Yeah, lots of stuff. I had a huge 2-piece chicken meal with Cajun rice and a biscuit AND a Chicken French Quarter burger from Popeye’s because A BITCH WAS STARVING; a mocha chip ice blended drink from Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf; and a copy of The First Phone Call From Heaven by Mitch Albom as my mom has been looking for it for ages and I happened to find it at a bookstore. Last person to lay in your bed, besides you? Gab is really the only other person I’ve let in my bed in the last few years. When's the last time you took a shower? This morning. Would you ever camp out on a beach under the stars? Of course I would jump at the chance. That sounds like such a freeing thing to do. Are you listening to music right now? If so, what? Nope. I was listening to Señorita earlier like I said, but I generally find music while taking surveys distracting so I had to pause it. Do you prefer warm or cold weather? COLD What were you doing at 7 AM this morning? I was sleeping. I wouldn’t wake up till 8. Were you happy when you woke up this morning? No, I was pretty annoyed because I woke up sweating all over the bed because it was so abnormally hot this morning. Has anyone gotten on your nerves today? Yes. What are you excited for, if anything? Not doing anything tomorrow again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is my last summer as an undergraduate student and as an unemployed human being so I’m enjoying the fuck out of completely not doing anything for a whole month. Do you have any piercings? If so, what? Yep. Earlobes. Do you think anyone is thinking of you right now? No. Everyone I know is probably asleep right now as it’s a little after midnight. When was the last time you cried really hard? This morning. When did you last hug someone? Who was it? A couple of hours ago when I dropped Gab off at her place. Are you afraid of roller coasters, or have you never been on one? I’m afraid of them. I took one once and since then I’ve gotten more scared by like 895798578493578957%. How's life going for you? It’ssssss...the calm before the storm. I’m gonna be starting work on my thesis and doing executive work for my org in the next few months and it’s going to get super super hectic by then. I’m taking my sweet time chilling rn because I know I’ll never ever get this again. Have you ever done something outrageously dumb? Just about all the time.  Are you keeping a secret right now? Yeah. This blog is a huge one lmao. Can you go an hour without talking? Easily. Has anyone put their arms around you in the past week? Yes. Is your hair longer than your shoulders? Yup. It’s a little past it now! Are your nails painted? If so, what colour? Oh MY GOD this question y’all, lmfao. Do you know anyone else with your name? I know two other people named Robyn and one other person named Robin. Do you think you'll ever get married? Do you want to? Yes. I wish I would. Which do you prefer: summer or fall? Can’t relate to fall, and I hate summer. Who do you care about the most? It’s such an obvious answer, but Gabie.

[loookovt-blog]

whaddup it’s me robyn again ( 22 / she & her / cst ) bringing another lady muse to the yokai ~ this is JOSEFINE but she goes by JO and this is her mask. more about her is under the cut !! pls plot w her she has NOTHING so far tbh. HEART THIS && I’ll come into your dms/disco to plot !! it’s kinda long tbh TW: alcoholism, abuse, murder, ptsd, and general violence. 

overview

name:   josefine “jo” prior

alias:   nyx

age:   eighteen

sign:   aries

gender:  cisfemale

sexuality:  bicurious / heterosexual

birthplace:   new orleans, louisiana

current  residence:   tokyo,  japan

occupation:   the crowd control

faceclaim:   zoey deutch

persona

label:   the  crimson

+ traits:  humorous, low maintenance, determined

— traits:   explosive, boisterous, untrusting

alignment:   chaotic neutral

mbti:   estp

hogwarts:   slytherin ( w some gryffindor )

anatomy

height:   168  cm.

weight:   66  kg.

build:   toned but femme

eye  color:   hazel

hair  color:   strawberry blonde  ( currently )

defining  features:  has 3 tattoos: the kanji symbol for ‘power’ on the back of her neck, a small crescent moon on her right wrist, and her mother’s birthday in roman numerals on her ribcage

physical  condition(s):   none

neurological  condition(s):   ptsd, blacks out from trauma/rage when repressed memories are recalled

brief overview

i was gonna write a whole ass bio for this, but i’m gonna save it for later !!

was born to aaron prior (raised jewish, stopped believing) and eloise foret-prior (french-cajun, from old money, married him against her parents wishes) in a small town outside new orleans.

mom was a preschool teacher, dad worked in a factory. eloise’s parents gave them a generous financial wedding gift but said that was the last financial support they’d receive from them. they were adults.

aaron developed a dependence on alcohol. he started out just being rougher in bed but began accusing eloise of cheating, screaming, throwing things at her, and occasionally being violent with her.

then she found out she was pregnant. she had a baby girl - named her josefine rochelle foret-prior. eloise & aaron raised her with as much love as they could find in their household, but neither of them made much money and aaron was blowing through the foret’s gift, spending it on booze.

josefine and her mother were very close. when her father drank, the two would stay in jo’s room and read books. her mom was very smart, so she spent a lot of time making sure jo was an intelligent girl. it was a successful effort, and she actually ended up skipping second grade.

when jo was in fifth grade, her world fell apart. her father hit a new low and got more drunk than he ever had. in a stupor, he accidentally killed eloise, shoved her too hard and she hit her head against a counter. he cleaned the mess and hid the body, told the authorities she must have finally worked up the courage to run off with the man she was having an affair with. there was no affair.

josefine saw the whole thing - and repressed it, repressed it, repressed it. she doesn’t remember any of it.

after this, aaron dropped the ‘functioning’ from ‘functioning’ alcoholic and his drinking stopped being just nights and weekends. he ended up losing his job at the warehouse and living on unemployment checks. they weren’t nearly enough, especially since he kept drinking.

middle school for josefine was just her keeping her head down and grieving for her mother. freshman year of high school, though, she found anger.

through high school she balanced being an honor’s student with her newfound hobby — underground fighting. she did well enough, maintaining a B average in her classes (which, while she did not know she’d need it later, did include japanese) and normally doing an effective job covering her bruises, so the teacher’s seldom asked about them.

graduated at 17 because of her grade-skipping, and spent the last year before she was finally a legal adult saving up money to move out. an ex-member of the yokai in the fighting scene told her about the crew, said if she made a name for herself in tokyo, she could get recruited, and never have to struggle again. she thought it was bullshit tho lmfao

five months ago, right after she turned 18, her dad died of a stroke. so she decided to take a risk and go to tokyo, booked a flight for the day after his funeral. 

she was in tokyo’s underground fight scene for 2 months before someone from the yokai heard of her and asked her to join, and she immediately accepted.

she’s been here for three months and is starting to adjust.

so for her personality.. generally she’s just a typical tomboy (even tho i hate that word). like she’s a bro and she’s a bit rowdy and low maintenance and a generally friendly person who likes to just have fun after like. having to work so hard for everything.

but like also she’s fiercely independent, and she can be a bit blunt or even harsh. i guess u could say she’s mean - but she’s just trying to be honest skjfhjfjh

she has a lot of darkness to her. not only does she kind of run on her anger in general but sometimes, when she’s fighting (underground or in a heist), if a guy gets in her face or aggressive or reminds her of her dad, she kind of blacks out and goes into a blind, violent rage. it also happens when like, she feels threatened. like she got mugged once and nearly beat the guy to death. nearly. she hasn’t killed anyone. yet.

she’s not sure if alcoholism has been passed to her but she does try to limit her drinking just in case it is. she does smoke a lot of weed tho. she’s not like a ‘pothead’ or whatever but she’d smoke socially. she doesn’t smoke cigarettes either bc she doesn’t want to have any ‘vices’ like her dad.

speaks english and japanese, but her japanese is not the best?? like. she learned this shit from high school classes and language apps and maybe some youtube videos. she’s not a prodigy like hyeyeon so she isn’t just flawlessly picking this up lmfao. still, she can have conversations, but she may forget words or have shitty grammar. she’s also picked up on a smidge of korean bc of how many korean ppl are in the crew.

hobbies: besides fighting she also likes reading (bc of her mom), and photography (she bought a camera w her first yokai payment). she’s really into outer space, and she loves animals. she loves to swim, and p much any other activity like hiking, rock climbing, biking, whatever. she also likes to paint but she doesn’t really have the patience so she doesn’t do it often.

anyways, she needs like everything so bls plot w her. okay ily bye.

[sapphic-sustrai]

RWBY OC Bio: Rusty McGuire.

It’s been a while since I’ve talked about/introduced another RWBY OC, so here’s one that I’ve been working on for the last little while. His name is Rusty McGuire and more info about him will be shared underneath the cut! 

Full Name: Russel Archibald McGuire.

Name Meaning{s}:

Russel; French origin - from a surname which meant "little red one".

Rusty; English origin - from a nickname which was originally given to someone with a rusty, or reddish-brown, hair colour. This started out as a nickname that his Father called him, due to his love of machinery/auto mechanics. Eventually, Rusty started to prefer going by this name instead. 

Archibald; Scottish & English origin - derived from the Germanic elements ercan, “genuine”, and bald, “bold”. 

McGuire; Irish origin - Anglicized form of Irish Mag Uidhir meaning, "son of Odhar". It’s a given name meaning, “pale-colored”.

 Alias: While his first name is Russel, he prefers to go by the name Rusty. He’s been going by that name since he was around 11 or 12 years old. He only uses Russel for documents and such.

Nickname{s}: Russ {mostly used by everyone}, Master Mechanic/The Car Doctor {what most of his customers at his shop call him, due to his excellent reputation as a mechanic}, Rust {mostly used by his Older Brother Reed}, Darling/Darlin’ {used by his Ex-Wife when they were together}, Babe/Handsome {only used by Qrow}, Pa/Papa {only used by his Son}.

Age: Early to Mid 40’s, he’s at least 3-4 years older than the members of Team STRQ.

Gender: Cis Male.

Race: Human.

D.O.B/Star Sign: May 19th/Taurus.

Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Bisexual. 

Handedness: Ambidextrous. 

Complexion: Tanned, he used to be incredibly pale when he was younger.

Height: 6′1 {185cm}. He had a huge growth spurt in high school. 

Weight: 155lbs {70kg}.

Hairstyle/Hair Colour:

He sports a short & curly undercut. His hair colour is ginger, sometimes it looks rust-colored. .

Eye Colour: Brown.

Aura Colour: Rusty Red.

Emblem: A wrench and a screwdriver formed in an X-shape, that is rusty red in colour.

Weapon{s}: Since he isn’t a Huntsman, he doesn’t have a fancy weapon. However, he’s very proficient with handguns and shotguns. He keeps a couple of each at his house and in his trucks. To have a better fighting chance against the Grimm, he uses dust infused ammo. 

Semblance: X-Ray Vision:

The user is able to see through physical objects, at the user’s own discretion. However, they’re only able to use their semblance for a few seconds to a minute at a time. Otherwise the user will develop a splitting headache and their eyes start to feel sore.

Current Affiliation: The Kingdom of Vale, The Island of Patch. 

Previous Affiliation: A college in Vale for electrical engineering, as well as a college in Atlas for auto mechanics & business.

Occupation{s}:

Owner/head mechanic at his own auto shop called Rusty’s Auto Repair, that’s located on Patch. 

Sponsor/volunteer at an addictions & mental health services center on Patch.

He also does odd jobs as a handyman on the side. 

Personality:

Positive Qualities: He’s a very adaptable person, he’s known for being a very down to earth & humble guy, he enjoys helping others, he’s very brave & courageous, he tries to tackle any problem he may be facing head on, he’s very hard working, very dependable, he’s incredibly smart, he graduated from high school & college with honors, is a quick thinker. 

Negative Qualities: He can be stubborn when he wants to be, he does deal with an anxiety disorder, as long as he’s taking his medication & using his coping skills then it’ll be kept under control, he used to deal with an addiction, during this time he was known for being depressed, on edge & became incredibly hostile towards others, he’s been clean for several years now & has since made up for his past mistakes, he does still sometimes feel guilt for how he treated his loved ones back then, while he can be the jealous type, it’s never to the point of possessiveness.

Family/Relationships:

Rufus Arkwright & Flannery/Flan Cassidy {Biological Parents, his Mother is still alive, his Father sadly passed away he was around 28 years old, he got along with both of his parents quite well}. 

Reed Arkwright {Biological Older Brother by 2 years, despite not getting along sometimes, he still loves his older sibling, he also knows that Reed feels the same way}. 

Jelena Budney {Ex-Wife, they were on bad terms for a while due to Rusty’s addiction and it was what tore their relationship/family apart, after getting the help that he needed he has since made amends with her, the two are now back on good terms with each other}.

Roy Budney-McGuire {Biological Son who’s in his early 20′s, because of his addiction there was a period of time where he wasn’t allowed to be around his child, Roy meant the whole world to Rusty, he was one of the few reasons as to why he decided to eventually seek treatment, he eventually makes amends with Roy and is allowed back into his life when he was around 12-13 years old, the two of them are back on good terms with each other}. 

Orville Jernigan {Co-worker/ mechanic at Rusty;s Auto Repair, the two of them have been close friends ever since childhood}.

Qrow Branwen {Close Friend/Eventual Boyfriend, they met sometime after Salem’s defeat when Qrow decided to attend a support group for his addiction, Rusty became his sponsor and the two of them became close. They developed feelings for each other soon afterwards. I’ll explain more about their relationship in a future post. 

Primary Attire:

Leather Jacket {brown, zipped up halfway, sleeves almost reach his wrists}.

Plain T-Shirt {charcoal black, short sleeved, v-neck, tight}.

Leather Belt {mahogany brown, with a gold oval belt buckle}.

Necklace {of a golden crow, with a black leather cord, was a gift from Qrow}.

Leather Bracelets {mahogany brown, there’s 3 of them, wears them on his left wrist.

Sports Watch {black, wears it on his right wrist}.

Denim Jeans {slightly faded, not too baggy, not too tight}.

Carpenter Boots {dark brown, with black laces, usually wears grey socks}.

Facial Hair/Tattoos/Piercings/Scars/Misc:

Has a couple of freckles on the bridge of their nose.

Has a full scruffy beard.

Has a small mole in the left side of his face.

Has slightly noticeable forehead wrinkles.

Has a couple of marks on his arms from his early 20′s.

Has a scar on his chest from having open heart surgery. He currently has a pacemaker.

Has a couple of small scars on his right hand/fingers.

Doesn’t have any piercings.

His tattoos include: A checkered flag on his left shoulder, a winged piston on his right ankle, a mechanic pin up girl on his lower left torso, a red crown on his right wrist in honor of his son Roy, and finally has a flying crow on his right shoulder blade in honor of Qrow.

His Voice Would Be: Liam O’Brien {Current}, Samantha Herek {Young}.

5 Bits of Trivia:

Rusty was born and raised in the industrial district of Vale. His family had a cottage on Patch, which he has fond memories of staying there during the summer. This was what made him decide that he wanted to live on Patch at some point when he got older. His Father worked in a nearby steel mill, while his Mother worked from home running her own dry cleaning service. His Brother Reed currently teaches at Signal Academy and he’s also still an active Huntsman. 

Ever since he was young, Rusty has always had an interest in cars/motor sports. He fondly remembers going to the race track with his Father every other weekend. He’s also been very fond of tinkering with machines/gadgets. He used to help his Father fix things around the house. The first time he ever managed to fix something on his own was when he was 10 years old and it was the family’s toaster. 

He’s very much a steak & potatoes kind of guy, but he also loves bacon double cheeseburgers, spinach dip with Cajun pita chips, buffalo wings  with bleu cheese dip, apples, and chili con carne. He doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, however he really dislikes tofu, cranberries and walnuts.  

Currently he owns a tow truck, two motorcycles, a four-door truck, and a classic convertible. He has a large four car garage by his home, where he keeps his vehicles. 

He’s really into classic rock, but he also loves old school hip-hop and old country music. He isn’t a big fan of the new stuff. 

That’s all that I have to share for now about Rusty. If anyone has any comments, questions or critique that they want to share, my inbox is always open! If there’s anything that I need to edit or change, I’ll go back and fix it later!

[itsagoodluckkiss]

You Are My Family

Hey, so, this is a belated New Year’s Eve fanfic, please excuse me, I have a lot on my plate these days. I really hope you’ll enjoy this. Excuse me for any mistake in this.

Pairings: Jake x F!MC

Warnings: None, really, this is just a cliché, cute, fluffy fic.

Summary: The gang escaped the island almost a year ago. Jake has cleared his name and has returned to Louisian for a while. The holidays are coming up and MC is spending them alone. Jake’s family invites her over without him knowing.

*couillon: idiot in Cajun French, a common language in Louisiana.

The cold winter air hit Jake’s face as he stared out in the night sky, sitting in the porch of his childhood home. He wasn’t familiar with Louisiana’s changed climate; it used to be warm and humid even in the winter. But his home state had changed, same as him.

He cleared his name only a few months ago, with the help of his friends. He made the decision to return to Louisiana, to return to his family, for a while at least. And he was adjusting to his new life, trying to figure out what to do next.

He was still talking with everyone, most of all with her. Sometimes he visited them too. She respected and understood his decision to return. He asked her to come with him but the unresolved matters that troubled her made her stay back. He didn’t like the thought of leaving her alone after they escaped that damned island but he had to respect her decision too. They wouldn’t be away for each other for long anyway.

He hadn’t told his family everything that had happened all these years he was missing. It was hard to tell them about what happened to him. It was difficult to even talk about the smallest things. He wouldn’t even talk to them about her that much. Only the most necessary stuff. He didn’t feel comfortable and everyone knew it so they wouldn’t push him. They were just relieved he was back.

Looking into the starry night, he wished he could be close to her. He missed her voice and her laugh, the smile she would give him, her hugs and kisses. He missed her. Video and phone calls weren’t enough. But she had a life back there, she was still struggling with her college courses, trying to catch up the lost time and he couldn’t intervene. He didn’t even know what he would do with his life now.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, his mom sitting next to him right after, a warm smile on her face as she ruffled his hair affectionately.

“You still can’t sleep a lot boy, can you?”

“I’m fine mom. I just wanted to… stargaze I guess.”

“You do that a lot?”

He let out a small sigh and smiled at her.

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

“Thinking of someone specific?”

He didn’t respond.

“Maybe that girl you always spent hours talking to but we barely know about her?”

He chuckled. His mom subtly kept trying to get him to talk about her. She knew MC made him happy and always tried to learn more about her. He was slowly opening up about her to his mum, talking to her about how much she changed him and helped him come back home. Tonight was another night he felt like talking. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled nervously.

“I guess… I miss her.”

“You plan on going back? Like, actually stay there”

“Yes... I will, in a few weeks. I just wish she could come here for a while too.”

“Why don’t you invite her here then? New Year’s Eve is coming in a few days. So is her birthday, right? You’ve told me she doesn’t have family?”

“Yeah…”

“Then tell her to come. I don’t want this girl to be alone these days!”

“She… has other plans.”

She had told him he would spend Christmas and New Year with Diego and his parents. Also, maybe she didn’t want to come to his place just yet and he could understand it. No need to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m not gonna push you to do it, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

He sighed heavily and smiled at his mother once again, giving her a hug before getting up.

“Thanks mom. I’m gonna go and try to sleep for a while. Goodnight.”

And with that, he went back into the house.

Holidays were always a depressive period for her. Watching everyone around her surrounded by their loved ones when she was alone was hard. Having Diego with her the last few years made her feel less lonely. Now he was trying to reconnect with his parents so he would spend these days with them and she would be alone again. He invited her of course, but she declined. Being a dead weight was the last thing she wanted. She knew Diego didn’t think that way about her, but she did and that was enough.

She told Jake she would go with Diego though. Knowing Jake, if he learned she would spend the holidays alone, he would come to her in no time and she didn’t want that. He needed to spend time with his family, he needed his peace and quiet and she wouldn’t blow this up for him. After all, she was used to being alone.

Sean was kind enough to invite her for dinner at his home with his family at Christmas. He actually invited everyone who wouldn’t go back to their homes for the holidays or would be alone. It was fun spending time with Michelle, Zahra and Sean but still, something was missing.

She missed Jake. They hadn’t seen each other in two months and it was too much for her, after being close to him all the time on La Huerta. However, it was better like this. He had to reconnect with his family, to understand what he would do next. She was also worried about meeting his family like that. Jake returning after so many years home, after escaping a hell island, being in a relationship with this random girl, it just… didn’t feel right. They all needed time. So she didn’t care about spending the holidays alone.

Tomorrow it would be New Year’s Eve. Her plan was to spend all day in her apartment, catching up with the TV shows she hadn’t seen in ages. She had just gotten back to her house after her morning run when an unknown number called her. Curious, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Is this MC?”

“Uh, yeah… who is it?”

“Hey, this is Rebecca, Jake’s sister.”

She froze for a second, not responding. Why would Jake’s sister call her? Had something bad happened to him? Only the thought of this made her feel sick. As if she had read her mind, Rebecca talked back nervously.

“No, don’t worry! He’s fine, everyone’s fine! Nothing happened! Breathe a bit, okay?! I just called to ask you something!”

She let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank God, okay, everyone’s good, glad for that. You just… startled me.”

“Heh, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Uh, so, you wanted to ask me something?”

“Oh yeah! Yeah, so, since my buffoon of a brother can’t bring himself to ask you, I thought I would do him a favor and invite you over here for the New Year. He will thank me later. If you hop on a bus now, you’ll be here just in time.”

“Woah there! I mean, I would love to but I’m alread-”

“I know you are spending New Year’s alone.”

“Wha-, wait, what?! How-”

“Called your best friend first, just to make sure.”

She could hear the smirk in her voice, the same mischief Jake had. Damn! She knew she had to warn Diego about this.

“Creepy much?”

“Yeah, well, what can we do? Look, I know you may feel uncomfortable but we want you here, like, a lot! He doesn’t talk much but when he actually does, he just keeps blabbering about you. That idiot misses you and I’m sure you miss him too so… please… come?”

She bit her lip for a second. She did miss him. And Jake had told her once that his sister never said please. So she pleading her to come must mean something, right? Reluctantly, she answered.

“Okay… yeah… I will come.”

“Thank God I don’t have to cancel the bus ticket, I already paid for it. My birthday gift for you.”

“Wow, okay. You have arranged everything already, haven’t you?”

“I’ll text you the details, don’t worry.”

“Okay, one more question. How did you get my number?”

“Let’s just say that Jake’s really funny when he loses his stuff, especially his phone.”

She was indeed Jake’s sister.

He couldn’t really comprehend why his mother bothered to prepare so much stuff when it was going to be just the three of them, along with Jake’s grandparents. And since Rebecca had slacked off and was missing the last two hours, he was made to help around. He didn’t complain much though, keeping his mind a bit distracted wasn’t a bad thing.

“Jake, put this there please and damn, do something for that hair, preferably a haircut!”

“Mom, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m very good, I’m fine. Now, your sister will be home any second now and we have everything ready, perfect.”

“It’s just gonna be the five of us, what’s up with this fuss?”

Before his mother could answer, he heard his sister’s car. He passed through the hall and into the living room when the door swung open. Without looking at her, he chuckled.

“Where were you, couillon? Running errands?”

“Shut up Jake, I just thought I would go and bring you your present.”

“What are you even talking ab-”

He turned his head to his sister, only to stop talking abruptly, shock in his look quickly turning into excitement. He saw her coming in behind Rebecca, a somehow anxious look on her face. Her simply braided hair fell on her shoulder, a soft smile spreading across her face when her gaze found his.

In a flash, Jake run to her and lifted her into his arms, spinning her around, causing her to laugh and wrap him in a tight hug. She pecked his cheek as he let her down, still holding her tight, grinning like a five year old child.

“How did you get here?! I thought-”

“Long story short, your sister is very persistent, just like you.”

He glanced at his sister, who was smirking triumphantly, with a “Thank You” look on his face, then kissed the girl in his arms softly for only a moment before his mother came into the room. MC broke away awkwardly, her cheeks blushing slightly.

“H- hello Mrs McKenzie.”

“So you are MC.”

She looked at both of them strictly for a few seconds, her eyes finally fixed on her. Then, she broke down laughing, rushing to her side and pulling her in a bone-crashing hug. Jake let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“It’s wonderful that you’re here, I wanted to meet you since the first time Jake talked to me about you, love.”

His mom gave a kiss on both her cheeks and she laughed, the anxiety she had all day vanishing into thin air. The rest of the evening flowed quite smoothly. His family seemed to love her more every time she spoke. His mom was basically all over her, asking her all kinds of questions and, to Jake’s surprise, she eagerly answered them. His granddad teased him about how he managed to find a girl like that, Jake laughing as a response. It was almost midnight now and they all gathered outside to watch the fireworks. Jake wrapped her in his arms, resting his head on her shoulder.

“This might be the best New Year’s Eve.”

“Might?”

“Okay, surely is.”

“That’s better.”

“Your birthday’s coming up too.”

“Oh… huh. Yeah I guess.”

She never really thought about her birthday, another result of being alone. No one really cared about that day so why would she?

“Then I guess we gotta do something special tomorrow, Princess. You’re staying here, right?”

“Your sister didn’t allow me to stay anywhere else.”

“That’s my sister! But I wouldn’t let you go anyway.”

He gave her a soft kiss on the base of her neck and she giggled. Fireworks went off as the time changed, the new year on its way. Holding her into his arms, Jake couldn’t wish for anything else. Almost all the people he loved and cared about surrounded him and the one he had come to love the most stared at him with her loving eyes. They shared a kiss, the fireworks still painting the sky.

“Hey kids. Not to interrupt but…”

They both turned to his mom’s voice and she gasped. His mom was holding a simple birthday cake, smiling at her.

“I know it’s not much but sadly I didn’t have more time and I-”

“It’s… it’s perfect, I love this.”

Tears of joy ran down her face as she stared at the cake, then at him and his mom. The only other person that had ever brought her a cake was Diego. But this was different. She was surrounded by his family, who barely knew her, and they were welcoming her in the most heartwarming way. They sang the song and she blew her candles, wishing for more moments like this.

Later in the night, after helping around and getting done with cleaning, the two of them lied down on Jake’s bed. Her head resting on his shoulder, she scanned his room.

“I guess you have made some changes in here, right?”

“Yeah well, I left this room at 18, it didn’t quite fit with me now.”

“I can still see the Star Wars figurines there.”

“Hey, those are valuable!”

“And I love your Harry Potter books, rare editions?”

“You know it.”

They share a laugh, her arms wrapping around his torso, his hand caressing her waist. He kissed her forehead and brushed her hair softly.

“I have to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Why did you lie to me though? About going to Diego’s for the holidays?”

She bit her lip nervously. He was right, asking her about that but how could she explain that to him? With a heavy sigh, she answered.

“I just… I didn’t want to be a dead weight to anyone. I knew you all needed time with your families and I didn’t feel-”

“You are my family.”

Jake fixed his eyes on hers, a serious look on his face.

“You are the one I love. You are my family too. And I never want you to feel like you are a burden to me, never.”

She pouted a bit and he melted into a smile.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just want you to know that I’m always here for you, even when I’m away. I always want you close to me, alright Princess?”

She nodded at him and he pecked her lips. The usual smirk returned on his face.

“Okay, so, what does the birthday girl want us to do tomorrow? I couldn’t get you a present last year, being stuck on the island and all, so I’m going to make it up this year.”

“Honestly, being here with you is the best present I’ve ever received.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m wonderful.”

She punched his arm playfully, both of them chuckling.

“Real talk now, I really want to show you around. Shreveport is beautiful this time of the year. You can take many photographs too, you always do that.”

“If you allow me to photograph you too, then yes.”

“Damn, okay, deal, I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

She beamed at him and kissed him deeply. His fingers running through her hair, his tongue pressing between her now parted lips, allowing him access into her mouth, breathing each other in as the kiss got more passionate. He pulled her closer and in a few seconds she was on top of him, straddling his waist. They broke away a few moments later, catching their breath.

“You got something on your mind, Princess?”

“Maybe.”

[himbowelsh]

Highschool / Uni AU for Baberoe: Babe really needs help with his French classes. He registers for that one on one study group. He gets paired with Gene. He whines to Bill that he's gonna fail because the guy who helps him with French is so gorgeous he can't focus. Bill advice is to get to know the guy. Babe takes it to heart and offers Gene to teach him something in return, like footie. Bonus: Gene refuses to call Babe anything but Edward in English but in French he calls him "cher".

insightfulinsomniac asked: MORE BABEROE please Idk what, but something. Your slightly-steamy baberoe makes me wanna die (in the best way)

AN: babe i got u covered ;)

"It's not fair," he exclaims, tossing his head back in dismay. "Evans totally has it out for me. You should see the way he picks on me in class!"

"I was smart enough not to take a language this year," says Bill around a mouthful of bologna and rye. "So I don't need to. And I don't wanna. Quit whining and gimme those chips.""Those are my chips," Babe complains as Bill snatches them from his side of the table. "You don't even like 'em." His friend tears into the bag, clearly not able to care less. Over the crunch of potato chips, Babe rests his cheek in his palm and sighs.

He doesn't care what Bill says. He's not sulking, he's not whining, and he's definitely not slacking off in French class. It's not possible to slack off in French class. All Evans ever does is bitch at them, and then he assigns so much work that Babe is drowning in it come the end of the day. Is it any wonder he never gets it all done? He has other classes too. He has more work, and way more important things to focus on than conjugations in a language he couldn't care less about.

He's Irish. His entire family is Irish. Why the hell does he have to learn French, anyway?He takes another sip of his juice and reduces the urge to blow frustrated bubbles through the straw (the last time he did that, Bill smacked the juice box across the cafeteria). If he doesn't get his grade up before the end of the semester, his mom is going to murder him. But how the hell is he supposed to turn a D into an A in a month?"How do I know he's even teaching us French, anyway?" Babe demands. "He could be teaching us freaking Mesopotamian, for all I know. I have no clue."Bill glances up at him. "Parlez-vous français?" he asks, Philly accent thick enough to cut with a knife."What?""Nothing." Bill sighs, dropping his fist back down on the table with a thud. He has that look on his face, like he's not sure whether he wants to shake some sense into Babe or smack him. Bill's been known to do both on more than one occasion, do Babe wisely shrinks back. If Bill wants to steal his lunch, he can have it. Cafeteria food tastes like cardboard and carbs anyway.Bill doesn't try to grab Babe. (He does, however, steal what's left of his sandwich.) His friend regards him with narrowed eyes for a long moment before he nods to himself."You know what you should do?""Even if I did, you'd still tell me.""You --" Bill points straight at him, like a dollar store Uncle Sam knockoff. "Should get a tutor."Babe snorts. Bill, as he always does when his brilliant ideas are ignored, bristles like an affronted cat."I'm serious, Heffron. There's this one-on-one study group the seniors are doing. Spina and Frannie are both a part of it. You need help, sign up."Babe purses his lips. What's the point? He really doubts any tutor is going to be able to bring his grades up. It isn't like he's going to be paired with his friends, either -- Fran's tutoring in math, a subject Babe is actually decent at, and Spina doesn't share any of his subjects. All that would happen is Babe would be paired up with a stranger, who'd get a front row seat to how pathetic he is at French.He's not signing up to be laughed at by some tutor who probably can't speak the language any better than he can. No thanks."Just give it a try, christ," Bill says, rolling his eyes. "If you fail, your mom'll kick my ass. Then my mom'll kick your ass. Then they'll both kick my ass, cause I'm the one who's supposed to make sure you don't crash and burn before you get to college. So I'm telling ya, sign up for the study group."Bill is making the face he only makes when he's not messing around. (Bill has an assortment of faces for different situations, and they all fall under a single word description: constipated.) One look at him tells Babe that this isn't a decision he gets to make for himself. If he decides he doesn't want to sign up, it's not just Bill who’s going to be hounding him. Bill will get Fran on his back, Julian, Spina -- hell, someone might even go to his mom (probably not Bill, he's got too much honor, but Julian would, the sly little bastard).

Babe’s shoulders slump, and he watches his best friend’s lips curl up, chest inflating in victory. He knows he's won.

Babe is getting a tutor whether he likes it or not.

Babe has never heard the name Eugene Roe before in his life. Bill keeps a wide circle of acquaintances, and as Bill’s best friend Babe has a working knowledge of most of them. He's never met Eugene Roe. Until he was assigned him as a tutor, he never even knew there was a Eugene Roe in this school. He's not sure what he goes in expecting when he takes a seat at an empty library table; but it is certainly not the senior who joins him minutes later.

Gene, he thinks, subverts all expectations. He'd expected his tutor to be the same sort of pompous, snobbish asshole as the man who’s failing to teach him French in the first place. He'd expected scathing looks, corrections on his work made in red pen, maybe a stupid French accent to top it all off. (Babe has watched too many bad high school movies, admittedly.)

Instead, Gene is the opposite of loud and bombastic. Babe doesn't even notice him when he walks into the library. He dresses in neutral shades, slipping through the milling packs of students with an ease that suggests he hasn't been noticed at all. When he slides into the seat across from Babe, there's no helping the way Babe’s eyes widen.

Gene doesn't demand attention, but he captures it anyway. He's undeniably good-looking, with fine features and alabaster skin. The shock of dark hair upon his head sticks up as if he's dragged his hands through it one time too many. His eyes, a deep midnight brown, settle on Babe, and he feels his impulsive teenage hormones surge.

For a long moment, he finds himself at a loss for words. Gene’s the one who has to break the silence. “Edward Heffron, right?” he says, raising an expectant eyebrow.

Babe’s gaping mouth shuts with a click. “Yeah,” he says immediately; then, “no! That's not -- I mean, yeah, that's my name, I'm Edward, but I'm not really -- nobody calls me that. I'm Babe.”

He thrusts a hand towards the guy’s chest, almost like he's trying to hit him. Gene blinks down at it for a moment before raising his eyes to Babe again, quizzical.

“Babe,” he echoes. Babe nods.

Gene takes his hand. There's no reason his (surprisingly) firm grip should thrill Babe as much as it does, but it does, and his hand feels electrified from the touch long after Gene has pulled away.

“Okay, Heffron,” says Gene, setting a textbook down in front of him. “You need some help in French, is that right?”

Babe doesn't have to be a genius, and he definitely doesn't need to know French, to see that a horrible mistake has been made. He would have been better off learning from somebody, anybody else. Hell, he would learn more if his tutor were Spina, and Spina has never taken a day of French in his life.

There is no way he's going to get any work done with Gene Roe as his tutor. It's a lost cause, and they haven't even cracked open the books yet.

He's just so incredibly gorgeous that Babe can't think of anything else.

His grade is going to crash and burn because his tutor’s too hot, and the worst part is Babe can't even regret it.

That is, he can't regret it until he gets his most recent French test back, to reveal a “57” scrawled in bold red print across the front page.

“I don't get it.” Bill slams the test down on the table. His jaw is sticking out so far that Babe half-expects it will dislocate -- just pop off his face and start tapdancing away, like one of those really screwed up cartoons his little sister makes him watch. “How are you doing even worse when you've got a damn tutor?”

“It's the tutor’s fault,” Babe grumbles, and takes a sulky sip of his orange juice.

“Really? The tutor took this test for you?” He meets Bill’s eyes with a glare, and Bill glares right back. “What's the problem? Is he not teaching you French?”

“Sure he is.” Actually, Gene’s a great teacher. He's patient, he's thorough, and he's fluent -- the reason Babe’s never heard of him before is that he transferred to school at the beginning of the year from Louisiana, and he speaks French with a cajun accent rich as summer fruit. Every word that comes out of his mouth makes Babe wants to melt, and that's his whole problem. He's hanging off every word Gene says, but he's not hearing any of it. His mind is millions of miles away -- at his and Gene’s wedding years in the future.

“It's just -- I --” He can't tell any of this to Bill. He'll be teased for life. He takes a deep breath, and bends the truth like a piece of plastic. “I'm finding it hard to work with the guy.”

“Is he annoying?”

“No, no, he's -- quiet. And smart. And he seems really, really nice.” Babe shuts his mouth before he can give himself away. “I just don't know much about him’s all.”

Bill narrows his eyes. It's obvious that he suspects something. Babe has never been able to hide things from Bill for long, half because he's rotten at keeping secrets, and half because Bill’s just too damn nosy. He tries not to shrink under the force of his friend’s stare, instead meeting Bill’s eyes head-on.

“Well,” Bill finally says, “get to know him.”

“What?”

“Get to know your tutor.” He enunciates each word, like Babe is a particularly stupid toddler. “Maybe if you talk to him, your brain will actually start working, and you'll remember some shit. Either way, this --” He slams his finger down on the shameful exam. “Will not stand. Step up your game, Heffron.”

Babe purses his lips and frowns down at the table. Much as he hates to admit it, maybe Bill does have a point.

“Wait, wait, hang on -- so your grandma spoke French to you all the time? Like, only French?”

“She wanted us to grow up learning the language.” Gene shrugs, raising his water bottle to his mouth and taking a sip. Droplets of water linger on his lips once he's finished. Babe can't help staring until Gene’s tongue flickers out and brushes them away. “Without her, I doubt I'd be able to speak it half as well as I do now.” He pauses, considering his words. The furrow in his brow makes Babe’s pulse race. “Bayou French is different from what you learn in school. Different from what they speak in Europe or Canada, too. It's almost like a language in itself.”

A smile breaks across Babe’s face. “Wow, so I guess that means you know three languages!”

Gene blinks at him for a moment, contemplative, before his lips twitch. “Yeah,” he exhales, chuckling softly. “Guess I kinda do.”

He hates admitting that Bill is right, ever, but in this case Babe is willing to swallow his pride. Bill’s advice wasn’t just on the money; it was genius. Getting to know Gene is probably the best choice Babe has ever made.

He’s a tough nut to crack. It’s not even that he’s shy; Gene is just quiet, and keeps his distance so well that getting close to him seems almost impossible. Babe is nothing if not determined, however, and slowly but surely he’s managing to coax Gene out of his shell.

And the best part? He’s learning all about Gene, but he’s learning French while he’s at it.

“See, you made a mistake on this one -- you put the conjugation of vous instead of nous. You just gotta fix it.”

Babe frowns down at the worksheet in front of him. His leg is brushing against Gene’s own, and that makes it a little hard to focus, but he forces his brain to zero in on the words in front of him.. “So it should be appellons, right?”

“Right.” Gene looks up at him, offering a small smile. “Good work, cher.”

The rush of euphoria floods Babe’s system, electrifying him. Gene’s smile is without a doubt the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. It’s shy, on the right side of tentative, but just large enough to show that he means it. It, like everything else about Gene, is beautiful.

(Cher has become Gene’s favorite term for him over the last few weeks. Babe has no clue what it means, but Gene still refused to call him Babe, so he figures he can roll with it.)

“Thanks,” he sighs, pushing the completed worksheet away. The more he meets with Gene, the easier French seems to become. It’s like the subject is really settling into his brain for the first time. It makes sense, and it’s all thanks to Gene. “You know, you’re a real good teacher, right?”

“Thank you, Edward.” Gene looks humble, but Babe isn’t just trying to flatter him. He’s serious.

“I mean it! You know, if I could teach things like you do…” He trails off, lips pursing as an idea comes to him. That’s it -- that’s perfect. It’s the perfect excuse to spend more time with Gene outside of tutoring sessions, and to show off his many talents at the same time. “How about I teach you something? Just like you teach me French!”

Gene looks puzzled. “Teach me?”

“Sure! I could teach you anything! Whatever you wanna know!”

Gene raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”

This gives Babe pause. He has to stop and think for a moment. What skill could he possible have that he could offer Gene? He can chew twelve pieces of gum at once.. He can write with his toes. He knows how to do a cartwheel.

Suddenly it comes to him, and he lights up like Christmas in New York. Gene looks taken aback by the wide grin that spreads across Babe’s face, but he can't find it in himself to be ashamed. He's just had the best idea. “I can teach you how to peel a banana using only your mouth!”

For a second, Gene doesn't react. He blinks at Babe. Babe blinks back.

Then Gene’s lips quirk, as if he's trying desperately not to smile, and almost managing it. Victory washes over Babe like a tidal wave, and he doesn't bother hiding his own grin.

“Heffron,” Gene huffs, “read the goddamn textbook.”

As Babe drops his eyes back down to the book in front of him, he once again nudges Gene’s leg with his foot, and feels Gene nudge back.

On Friday morning, Babe receives his first ever ‘A’ on a French test, and proudly shows it off to Mr. Evans, Bill, his ma, and the rest of the world.

That afternoon, Gene comes over to Babe’s house to learn something of his own.