#they looked at two fan-favorite old men and went “making them gay will bring in the big bucks” and you know what they were right

[exiledsummer]

Why come up with your own rarepair when Pokémon Masters EX itself delivers the most random old man yaoi right to your doorstep?

[alastorseye]

About Remadora

When I say I really hate the HP fandom, I'm talking about the "fans" that hate everything about the saga, but still having Harry Potter accounts. They change the original story, claim that fanonical facts are canon, and launch hatred and death threats at those who simply like HARRY POTTER JUST THE WAY IT IS. Yes, I'm mostly talking about Marauders fans, which I joined after reading the books because I thought it would be interesting and funny. I suddenly realized how toxic and hateful that fandom was, it's like a cult dedicated to deifying Remus, Sirius, James and Regulus, and it seems that hating Snape, Dumbledore, and Remadora is a requirement to be a part of it.

At the beginning I used to consider Wolfstar as something funny, a bromance, it never bothered me, I mean... every fandom has fanon ships and I respect that, but the way they always hate Remadora and their shippers is something that MUST stop.

"You see!" said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"

"It's different," said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely -"

"But I don't care either, I don't care!" said Tonks, seizing the front ofLupin's robes and shaking them. "I've told you a million times. . . ." And the meaning of Tonks's Patronus and her mouse-colored hair, and the reason she had come running to find Dumbledore when she had heard a rumor someone had been attacked by Greyback, all suddenly became clear to Harry; it had not been Sirius that Tonks had fallen in love with after all."

"And I've told you a million times," said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes,staring at the floor, "that I am too old for you, too poor . . . too dangerous. . ."

When I read this part of the HBP I realized that Remadora was my favorite Harry Potter ship. Of course I wasn't aware of the death threats I'd receive later. I've read some "reasons" why some fans hate Remadora.

"Tonks forced him!"

We all know how insecure Remus was. I don't have to explain what's written in Wizarding World (Pottermore). This is the Remus bio:

Well, we can read that Remus was really attracted to Dora.

"Remus, so often melancholy and lonely, was first amused, then impressed, then seriously smitten by the young witch. He had never fallen in love before. If it had happened in peacetime, Remus would have simply taken himself off to a new place and a new job, so that he did not have to endure the pain of watching Tonks fall in love with a handsome, young wizard in the Auror office, which was what he expected to happen. However, this was war; they were both needed in the Order of the Phoenix, and nobody knew what the next day would bring. Remus felt justified in remaining exactly where he was, keeping his feelings to himself but secretly rejoicing every time somebody paired him with Tonks on some overnight mission".

This is so sad and cute, and that's undeniable. I cried when I read it. If someone still thinking that Dora forced Remus to marry her after reading this paragraph... I mean... they're probably talking about another book series.

"The age gap!"

I'm so satisfied to know that some Remadora shippers have explained this. When it's about a kid and an adult... OF COURSE IS HORRENDOUS! Because children are not physically and mentally prepared to have romantic relationships. Wizards are legally adults at 17, REMUS MET TONKS WHEN SHE WAS 21!

I mean, many old people abuses of young people innocence, or something. But we all know that Remus wasn't one of those! He really loved Tonks, and that's canon. I don't know what's doing in the fandom people who denies canon facts.

Remus and Tonks were two physically, mentally, and legally adults loving each other.

"Remus didn't love her!"

He was an introvert, Tonks was an extrovert, she made his life better. And of course, I loved the way he introduced himself when he was trying to prove he wasn't a Death Eater:

"I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag." (Remus Lupin, DH)

Maybe I'm not the only one who perceive he was proud to be Nymphadora Tonks husband.

"I.. I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and have regretted it very much every since". (Remus Lupin, DH)

This phrase makes more sense after reading Remus bio. He used to think that he was "too poor, too dangerous" for her. He thought he wasn't enough for her. He never imagined that she would love him back. He was a werewolf, and of course he knew he was dangerous, you only need to be emphatic to realize he tried to get away from Tonks because he loved her, he didn't want to hurt his beloved woman!

If you don't believe me, read this again. It's in the chapter 11 of Deathly Hallows:

"Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I've made her an outcast!"

So, if Remus was trying to escape it's because he loved them, he thought he spoiled their lives. And of course, no one likes to feel that their influence is bad for someone they love!

"Their relationship came from nowhere! They don't have a development"

Well, the saga's name is HARRY POTTER, not The Love Life of Remus Lupin. The story is about the tragic life of this kid and everything he went through to save the world of a cruel and dark villain. I know many readers are young people in love, and they only want to ship everything, but that's not the main topic here, maybe mother's love would be the topic. Of course Ron and Hermione had a development because they were HARRY'S BEST FRIENDS, and they were always with him, from Philosopher's Stone to Cursed Child. Remus and Tonks are minor characters, and it's funny the fact that this usually comes from Wolfstar shippers, so... is Wolfstar more developed than Remadora?! I mean... they can ship whatever they want, Snape and the Sorting Hat, Dobby and Voldemort, anything, but that does not give them the right to disrespect such a cute, tragic and beautiful canon ship as Remadora.

"They are queercoded! Their relationship is homophobic!"

It's surprising to hear this. It's like... people gets angry just because the author doesn't make queer their favourite characters? I will explain why I don't think Remus and Tonks are "queercoded":

Whether through their dress, their behavior, their language, or other subtle forms of implication, queer characters were written or designed to communicate their unstated queerness to those who were searching for representation.

And this is the definition on the website Pride.com:

"Using LGBTQIA tropes and stereotypes to allude to a character's sexuality without explicitly confirming it in the text."

We all know that Disney used queercoding on characters like Ursula, Scar, Jaffar. And why do we know that? Because DISNEY WANTED TO PORTRAY THEM LIKE THAT, get it? Disney, THE CREATORS MADE THESE CHARACTERS INTENTIONALLY QUEER. How? BASED ON STEREOTYPES.

And going back to Remadora, I was really happy to see by first time a bada*ass woman, with short hair who wasn't portrayed as a lesbian just because the way she looks. This character didn't follow the: "Straight women have long hair and are girly", and "short dyied hair is for lesbians". I'm very very very surprised the fandom follows these stereotypes.

About Remus: I don't know how the phrase "being a werewolf is a metaphor about people with HIV AIDS" means "he's gay". Fenrir Greyback bit him when he was a kid. Many people interpret this as "r4pe". Okay, even thinking that it is the meaning of the "bite", I still cannot understand how being "r4ped" and "infected" makes him queer. Is this (again) a stereotype about people with AIDS and gay?

"JK Rowling created Remadora because she didn't like people shipping Wolfstar!"

It is true that fans love shipping everything, they queerbait and queercode everything. That's great, that's not the problem. The problem is when people starts bashing fans who ship canon straight couples. A very good example is the polemic on Falcon and Bucky relationship, some fans wanted them to be a gay couple, Anthony Mackie said that two men can only be friends, and there is no need to always give them a romantic connotation. People cancelled him, they called him homophobic. Yes, just because a person with authority (on the story they're following") didn't like the fact of queercoding their favourite characters. It's the same about Remadora.

Grindeldore is a very interesting and underrated couple by the way. You can love or hate JK Rowling, but the truth is that Harry Potter story is hers, and even if Remadora was "because she didn't like Wolfstar", she is the author, it was her mind where these characters first appeared, as a big Harry Potter fan I respect and like the original story, that's not a sin. An author has the right to make some changes if some characters were misunderstood by the readers.

(Yes, I wrote this a bit angrily since I've seen too much hate towards Remadora shippers)

[cdt12345]

We've been friends many years but I've never thought to ask; Top 10 gay OTPs?

1.) Ian & Mickey (Gallavich) - Shameless us

What can I say about these two that we haven’t already said about them?! They are my absolute all-time favorite couple ever! Gay or straight. They perfectly complement each other, they love each other on a level I feel like I’ve never seen before (and I have watched a lot of tv/movies), they’re like a comedy duo, they support each other, understand each other better than anyone else ever will, they fell in love as kids, they bring out the best in each other, and they’re each other's best friend. I’m a sucker for opposites attract, who are also best friends. Gallavich really fits that bill. I wish they didn’t have to struggle so much to get their happiness, but I’m happy they finally got it. When they got married, it felt like the biggest victory ever! We went through those years of struggle with them, rooted for them, mourned for them when John Wells let Noel go after season 5. So much has tried to keep these two apart, even real-life circumstances tried to keep them apart. The chemistry between these two characters and between Cameron and Noel was so powerful, they were brought back to the show. That kind of thing doesn’t happen very often. When an actor leaves a show, they don’t usually come back as a series regular, let alone two actors who have already left the show. It felt like a miracle! I will never forget getting the news that Noel was coming back from you @luckyshazmrsmonaghansblog I was crying with happiness bc we wanted this for so long and I never believed we would get to see both Cameron and Noel back on the show. Or that they would get their happy ending outside of a jail cell. Especially after Cameron left the show in season 9. With their return we got a wedding, an entire season of them as a married couple, we got to see them dance with each other twice, we got them singing together, we got to see them start a lucrative business together, we got to see them free and happier than we’ve ever seen them before, and we got to see Terry get what he deserved after putting them through hell. We are only halfway through season 11, but I already feel so fulfilled with this extra time with gallavich that we were never supposed to have. JW tried to take that away from us. I will never understand why, but he failed. I am not surprised this is the one I wrote the most about. I can go on and on about gallavich!

2.) David and Patrick - Schitt’s Creek

This was everything I ever wanted to see onscreen, where there was zero homophobia. The pansexual character didn’t need to have a big coming out or tell everyone in the town of his sexual orientation, except his best friend. The gay character had a coming out with parents who loved and accepted him for who he is and was only upset that he felt he couldn’t tell them sooner. I dreamt of a day where I could see this kind of representation onscreen. The casual treatment of their sexuality was so refreshing and something I’ve been waiting for. There is no darkness or huge struggle they had to overcome to be together or a sad ending for them. They were allowed to be together without the major conflicts most LGBTQ characters have to go through. Once David made the first move Patrick was comfortable allowing himself to fall for David and start a relationship with him. He was so sure of his feelings for David after that first kiss, he never looked back and I loved that. They had such an adorable love story. Truly one I have been waiting to see for so long between two LGBTQ characters. They made me smile every time they were on screen. They are another of my OTPs that are exact opposites who complement each other perfectly. Patrick was welcomed into David’s family and blended in with them so well, even when he and David had very different upbringings. Patrick serenading David with Tina Turner and then Mariah Carey at their wedding is one of the most romantic things I have ever seen!

3.) Holt and Kevin - Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Captain Holt and Kevin are strange men on their own but together they are the perfect pair. They get each other in a way no one else does. The best part is their adorable fur baby, Cheddar! They seriously make the cutest family! I was so nervous when they went through a rough patch for a while because I didn’t want them to split up. Thankfully, they made it through and are still going strong!

4.) Will and Vince - Will & Grace

On the show's first run, Will and Vince were in a serious relationship and Vince was Will’s longest relationship on the show. They broke up a few times but were together by the series finale. The two reunite during the funeral of Will's father. There was a time jump on the series finale. Though I didn’t love everything about the last episode, I did love the fact that Will and Vince had been together for 20 years and raised a son together, who was conceived through in vitro fertilization with a surrogate. After the time jump, nearly twenty years later, their son goes to college and meets Grace's daughter, whom he would eventually marry. Though I wasn’t happy with the fact that Will and Grace didn’t stay close over the years, it did allow for their kids to one day meet, fall in love, and get married. I did like that outcome out of the finale. My family and I used to watch the original show, but we refused to accept or watch the 2017 revival because they completely changed everything from the original series finale. The second I found out they were changing everything; I knew I couldn’t watch it. They even wiped the existence of their kids from the first series finale. The revival was an attempt to cash in on the reboot craze and I wasn’t happy about that already, but even more so when they were going to break up one of my OTPs for easy money. Bobby Cannavale, who played Vince, has become even more famous since starring in Will & Grace. So, I already figured he wouldn’t be back for the show as a regular, but I know he did guest star. I won’t accept the revival and to me, Will and Vince stayed together, and their son married Grace’s daughter. THE END!

5.) Albert and Armand - The Birdcage

Miss Albert and Armand were the earliest gay couple I remember ever watching onscreen when I was eight years old. I have watched this movie more than I can count over the years. It is a family favorite that we quote often. Their son is planning to marry a girl whose father is in politics and is very conservative. They have to hide the fact that he has two gay fathers for one night, but everything goes awry, and comedy ensues. Nathan Lane and Robin Williams give a wonderful performance without resorting to using the stereotypes that are often used on gay characters, especially back then. It’s a classic!

6.) Stefon and Seth - Saturday Night Live

Okay, hear me out on this one! They’re not the most conventional OTPs on my list, but I really do love them so much! Stefon started doing a correspondent segment on Weekend Update on SNL. The first time Stefon came on, he flirted with Seth Meyers. The second he did I was like ooh they would make a cute couple! Stefon the wild party guy and Seth the serious news anchor. It was a match made in heaven for me. Before Seth Meyers left SNL to do Late Night with Seth Meyers, Bill Hader came back to play Stefon for Seth’s last episode. I didn’t expect what happened next to happen at all! They gave Seth and Stefon the ending that I haven’t even gotten from some actual scripted shows. I never expected Stefon and Seth to have this big ending, but I could not be happier that they did. I’m posting the link to the six-minute skit/ending and I hope it works. It’s worth watching. Though the video says it’s Stefon’s farewell it was really Seth’s farewell episode.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rj-wYWMdWNk

7.) Mr. Simmons and Peter - Hey Arnold!

Anyone who grew up watching this show already knew that Mr. Simmons, Arnold’s teacher, was probably gay. It was hinted at in the Thanksgiving episode. Arnold and Helga visit Mr. Simmons on Thanksgiving at his house and his family and “friend” Peter are there. Mr. Simmons mother says she didn’t know Peter was coming to dinner and Peter responds with the infamous line “There’s a lot of things you don’t know.” When Mr. Simmons mom tries to get him to take a woman friend to the ballet, he says he loves the ballet and Peter gives him a disapproving look and Mr. Simmons immediately declines. Those were enough hints for us fans to decide Peter was his boyfriend. Years later, the show's creator Craig Bartlett finally confirmed Mr. Simmons is gay and had them together in the 2017 Hey Arnold: The Jungle Movie. It was so exciting to finally get the confirmation years later, even though I was already certain of it for many years. I was happy that the cartoon no longer had to settle with vague hints about it.

8.) Callie and Arizona - Grey’s Anatomy

I was very happy to see a lesbian couple on prime time tv and I really liked both characters. I was excited to root for them but sadly as most couples on this show, their relationship took a turn, and I wasn’t thrilled about it. I was disappointed that it came to an end. By then I was already getting tired of watching the show. It was starting to feel like a chore to watch it every week. I tried to stick it out because I don’t like to give up on shows in the middle of it, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’m glad I did though because the shocking events with Derek Shepard, is something I’m glad I wasn’t around for. Anyway, I heard things between Callie and Arizona got even worse, so I was even happier I left when I did.

9.) Sherwin and Jonathan - In a Heartbeat

This was one of the cutest things I have ever seen! I wish this got the full-length movie treatment instead of a short film. But it was still a step in the right direction for the LGBTQ community. Gay characters in cartoons always bring me such joy and that was the focus of this short. A boy with a crush on another boy with a cute ending. What is not to love?!

10.) Mitch and Cam - Modern Family

Another show I had to give up on in the middle of the series. The show began to be less funny and more annoying to me. Another reason, that really has nothing to do with the show itself, that used to annoy me was that this show repeatedly beat out Parks and Recreation during award season. Parks and Recreation is a superior show when compared to Modern Family. This show won almost every year for years and it got really annoying especially when the quality of the show started slipping and they kept winning. After a few years, they finally stopped winning all the time. But before all that, I was a fan of Cam and Mitch. They were a great couple who I loved watching on the show. They were the best part of the show most of the time. But sadly, my annoyance of the show no longer being as funny as it used to be, was enough for me to stop watching.

[maxwell-grant]

Thoughts on the Shadow's Doppelganger, Lamont Cranston

The funny thing about Cranston in the original stories is that, yeah, one of the most famous scenes across all Shadow media is the “Lamont Cranston Talks to Himself” chapter in The Shadow Laughs, where we learn that The Shadow is not Lamont Cranston, but has usurped his identity, and now shows up at his bedside looking like him, talking like him, knowing more about his own life than he himself does, and ordering him to leave town, effectively blackmailing him into letting him use his face. It’s a very iconic scene that exemplifies a lot of what makes The Shadow unique as a character, and you can imagine why so many adaptations have gone with the idea of Cranston being either a hapless stooge bullied into submission, or an actual villain, because that whole scene is very much a horror movie scenario. 

Thing is, none of them seem to remember how Cranston and The Shadow’s relationship developed past this. I’ll post this excerpt from Atoms of Death:

"Good morning, Cranston," came a quiet tone from the foot of the bed.

"Good morning, yourself," returned Cranston, rubbing his eyes without noticing the visitor.

"You should say: Good morning, myself," chuckled The Shadow, dryly.

Cranston was pulling down the sleeves of his pajama jacket. He sat bolt upright, staring. Then a slow smile showed on his lips; one that was almost a replica of The Shadow's.

"So it's you," remarked Cranston, sleepily. "Well, I knew that last night. It was about time we crossed paths again. Well, old man, you landed me in for plenty this trip."

Cranston shoved bedclothes aside and perched on the edge of the bed. He found cigarettes on the telephone table; The Shadow supplied a flame from a lighter before Cranston could ignite a match. The millionaire noted that The Shadow's lighter bore the initials "L. C." 

"You handle every detail, don't you?" questioned Cranston in admiration. “Jove! I remember the first time I met you. In this very room. You dropped cloak and hat and left me looking at my own face as plainly as if I had seen it in a mirror. Just as it is today."

"And I advised you," recalled The Shadow, in Cranston's own tone, "to take a trip abroad, while I used your identity. You were a bit exasperated at first."

"I must admit that I was. I threatened to have you arrested, as an impostor, until you proved that you knew more about my affairs than I did. I really believe that if it had come to a showdown, I would have been proven the impostor and you the genuine Lamont Cranston. Jove!"

"Jove," repeated The Shadow, quietly, "You have acquired that expression recently, Cranston. I shall remember it for future reference. You have a penchant for acquiring anglicisms during your sojourns in British colonies. Jove!"

"Bounder and blighter," laughed Cranston. "Don't forget those. I still use them occasionally."

Or this excerpt from The Hydra, which is an incredible book where the chemistry between the two really shines:

Lamont Cranston woke up and wondered why his head still whirled. It took him about half a minute to learn that the motion came from the fact he was riding in his limousine. Someone must have put him back in the limousine and Stanley was driving him home. 

He didn't have to guess who had helped him on his way, for at that moment Cranston heard a low-toned laugh beside him. He turned to see the black-cloaked figure of The Shadow.

"What did you hit me with?" asked Cranston. "All four of your automatics?"

"I'm only carrying a pair tonight," replied The Shadow

Look at these two dorks, just palling around and getting into shenanigans and The Shadow outright joking around Cranston, like they are just two old chums having a laugh at the weirdness of their lives. The “real” Cranston didn’t show up very often in the original stories, especially in the last stories when Lamont Cranston essentially became the real identity of The Shadow, but when he did, part of what makes him stand out as his own character is that he’s funny. Gibson gets a lot of mileage out of Cranston as this guy who is completely nonchalant and chill about all the weird shit that happens to him, even in The Hydra after he kills a man with an elephant gun, he’s still more or less the same, he largely just walks out of it with a newfound realization. 

Relieving Cranston of the elephant gun, The Shadow steered his friend into the closet. Hauling the big weapon with him, The Shadow opened the door to meet and dismiss arriving servants who had dashed upstairs when they felt the house quake. 

"Whenever I see this gun," began Cranston, coming from the closet, "I'll remember what I did with it -" 

“Quite right," interposed The Shadow approvingly. "What you did to Mance will make amends for any elephants you may have killed. Too bad Mance didn't bring along a few more Hydra Heads.”

Slowly, understanding dawned on Cranston. He'd never compared his big-game hunts with The Shadow's quests for men of crime. He felt that The Shadow's cause was justified, but it had seemed outside the field of sport. It still was, but Cranston, now that he had dealt with a murderer who deserved to die, was realizing that his game hunts were more deserving of rebuke.

His encounters with The Shadow gradually changed Cranston from a useless millionaire wasting his resources and talents on idle pursuits, to...still largely a useless millionaire, except his resources and talents are no longer wasted and he’s gradually grown into a useful ally and friend to The Shadow. The Shadow tends to have that effect on people who work by his side and even Cranston, the guy whose main role in his organization is to just stay away and be useless somewhere else, can’t help but change a little into a better person when he appears. 

There’s an interesting article written by Bob Sampson called “The Third Shadow” which refers to the Bruce Elliot run of The Shadow Magazine, which is incredibly maligned by fans and not without reason, the stories all largely suck and the Shadow bears little resemblance to his former self, instead mostly feeling like a diet take on the radio show Lamont, more of an average detective. The theory Sampson puts out is that, during this period, it was actually Lamont Cranston who became active as The Shadow while Allard was busy overseas, and I definitely like this theory. It makes sense specially considering The Hydra sets up for Cranston to become more pro-active and serious:

While not the towering master-mind of Allard, he does become the next best thing: A post-war sleuth. He even indulges in wearing the cloak and slouch hat from time to time (to varying degrees of effectiveness), while trying to laugh like Allard (also to varying degrees of effectiveness) as if to fulfill that forbidden fantasy until he finally gets it out of his system. After all, The Shadow pretended to be him, why not the other way around?

As Bob Sampson put it: “It is always Cranston who explains all and takes the credit”. 

Probably very cathartic for Lamont, who for the last 18 years was relegated to being a distant supporting player in his own life. Cranston is still in contact with the agents however. He even receives "assignments" from Burbank. 

This entire arrangement could only be with The Shadow's tacit approval. Let us remember, Cranston was not merely some insipid fop. He certainly had done his own share of exploring and was indeed a hunter. He could handle a variety of firearms, was familiar with exotic peoples and their customs, knew how to stalk dangerous animals through the jungle and veldt, but he was not, nor ever claimed to be, a master secret-agent and soldier.

I think it is fitting that the writing is completely different for this period as well. Not the enigmatic journalistic style of Allards exploits, but the witty, modern champagne fizz of Cranston's odyssey in a Post-War world. He feels a full range of emotions. In the Gibson stories, The Shadow is at arms length. In the Elliott stories, Cranston is sitting right next to you on a train or an airplane or roadster. 

It’s also interesting to consider how Lamont Cranston has basically become the true name of The Shadow in pop culture. Often times it’s the name people use when they specifically want to reference The Shadow, the supposed “Ghost of Gay Street” hauntings in Gibson’s former apartment took the form of Lamont Cranston, and even in the stories, more and more people became aware of it as the years went by (which also helps reinforce the idea that the “real” Cranston eventually took to acting as a fill-in for The Shadow, to draw attention away from the real Shadow’s operations), and Gibson even mentioned a few times that Cranston was The Shadow’s “favorite” identity along with Arnaud. Which is kinda fascinating to think about and does hint at some weird underlying aspects of The Shadow’s psyche, that his favorite identity is one not his own.

And at last, there’s these passages from The Whispering Eyes, a book that does not mention Allard once, and the very last Shadow novel: 

From beneath the seat he was taking his black garb. Cloaked and hatted as he stepped from the cab, Cranston merged immediately with the darkness. He had become The Shadow. 

Cranston's switch to his other self could well be attributed to a hypnotic mood. The mental lapses produced through hypnosis were the sort that would often cause a subject to revert to habit. Now, as The Shadow, Cranston was still in what might be termed a haphazard mood. He was skirting through darkness, pausing, changing direction, behaving generally as though avoiding something that did not exist.

Lang had flung away his glasses; his eyes now showed the shining, hypnotic force that the lenses normally softened. He recognized the eyes that met his above a leveled gun muzzle.

The Shadow's eyes, yet strangely Cranston's, for this was one time The Shadow did not care to disguise them.

Which begs the question: Did Cranston succeed in fully becoming The Shadow? Or did The Shadow succeed in fully becoming Cranston?

[takerfoxx]

In response to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, my (former) idols

I really didn’t want to have to do this.

So in addition to…=gestures vaguely=…all of that, the last few months have been kind of sucky when it comes to learning some really unpleasant things about artists that I looked up to, admired, and was in fact inspired by. I’ve already spoken about the Speaking Out movement revealing a lot of ugly behavior from various wrestlers, some of which I was big fans of, and then later we got Chris Jericho being a full-on MAGA. Yeah, that all sucked. But those were just performers whose work I enjoyed watching. The one that really hurt were writers who I deeply admired, whose stories I love, and who I was heavily influenced by.

The first, of course, was finding out that JK Rowling, the author of perhaps the single biggest YA fantasy series of all time Harry Potter, is a TERF. This really sucked for a number of reasons. Firstly, I really like Harry Potter! I mean, I’m not a super fan or anything. I came into it when things were kind of dying down, like the whole book series had already been released and there were only a few movies left, but I still really enjoyed it, have all the books and movies and a fair amount of merchandise swag, including a nifty wand I got at Universal Studios. Shit, I got two replicas of the Sword of Griffyindor, thanks to them screwing up my order in my favor and sending me a duplicate! They’re on my wall right across from me as I type this!

But in addition to writing a book series I really liked, JK Rowling was supposed to be one the good guys. She’s been vocally progressive, often openly comes down on British right-wing nonsense, has supported various persecuted minorities, and is on record as being one of the few self-made billionaires to actually stop being a billionaire for a time because she donated so much money to charity. And while we mock it now, her revealing Dumbledore as gay was a huge deal at the time. Plus, she cultivated this reputation as Auntie Jo, that cool, supportive aunt we all wanted.

But for a while her stock has been dropping. Her preference for confirming “representation” via tweets instead of explicitly putting it in the text of her stories has raised the question of queer-baiting, especially with a whole-ass movie with a young Dumbledore and Grindelwald to make their relationship explicit but failing to do so. The whole Nagini thing from the latest Fantastic Beasts movie was pretty gross. And re-examination of various problematic elements from the original novels has rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. Now, none of these really looked to be intentionally malicious, of course. Just about everyone’s early work will have problematic elements; that’s just how people work. And the later stuff smacked more of ignorance than anything. But after all this time, it’s like, c’mon. You should know better by now.

But the biggie came when her transphobic views finally came to light. Now, this one had been brewing for a while, due to some questionable likes and statements on her twitter. But then she decided to just go public and published what essentially amounts to a TERF manifesto, one with a very “love the sinner, hate the sin” condescending attitude and had a real persecution complex air to it.

Now, I’m not going to go into detail about what the manifesto was about, what the circumstances surrounding it were, or how wrong it was. It’s already been raked over the coals, dissected, answered, and debunked in detail by people far more qualified than me, so odds are, you’re already well aware of its contents and the subsequent rebuttals. But the gist of it comes down to her basically believing that transwomen are actually cis men claiming to be trans so as to infiltrate and invade female-only spaces.

Yeah.

Okay, that’s gross, but…why? Why is someone so noted for being progressive and wanting to foster an inclusive environment making this the hill of exclusion that she wants to die on?

Well, that’s where things get tricky. She mentions that prior to Harry Potter, her first marriage was highly physically and sexually abusive, and when she escaped from that, she had no place to go, leading her to be homeless for a time.

Oh.

Well, that makes sense. Someone goes through a highly traumatic experience with a member of the opposite sex, has no support structure when she escapes it, is left to fend for herself, only to suddenly get rocketed into fame, fortune, and influence, which in turn leads to a Never Again mentality. She was hurt, no one was there to help her, and now she’s afraid of men invading women-only spaces to victimize others like she was victimized. So…literally transphobic. Literally a Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist.

Guys, this is so fucked up. Like, how do you even approach something like this? She’s a victim in every sense of the word, so of course she’s going to have physiological damage and a warped view of things. I mean, if I found out that a close friend of mine went through the same thing and had the same prejudices, I would be nothing but sympathetic! I mean, I’d still do what I can to convince her to overcome those prejudices, but I’d still show sympathy and support for what she went through.

Abuse warps people. There’s a reason why so many abusers are abuse survivors themselves. It makes you terrified of being hurt again and often causes people to adopt toxic behaviors, beliefs, and reactions to protect themselves. I’ve already talked about it at length while discussing She-Ra and its own handling of the cycle of abuse, which included franks discussions of Catra’s horrible behavior, why she was the way she was, while never losing sympathy for her and rooting for her to overcome it. So if JK Rowling is an abuse survivor, is it really right to come down on her for having warped views because of that abuse?

But that’s the problem. See, she isn’t your troubled friend that you’re trying to help. She isn’t your cousin Leslie who’s a really sweet person but unfortunately adopted some bad ideals due to trauma suffered. She JK freakin’ ROWLING, one of the most famous, wealthy, and influential women in the world. She has a platform of millions, if not billions, which means her voice lends credibility to her bigoted beliefs. Alt-righters and other TERFs have already swooped upon this for giving validation to their awful beliefs, which puts trans people even more at risk. And as horrible as Rowling’s experiences might have been, the trans community is often the victim of far worse, and they don’t have a mountain of money and an army of defenders to protect them like she does. I’ve said it time and time again: just because you’re a victim, that doesn’t give you the right to victimize others! And bringing things back to Catra, as much as I loved her redemption in the final season, she was still a TERRIBLE PERSON for a huge chunk of the show, one that needed to be stood up to and stopped.

So yeah. That’s the messiness that is JK Rowling.

Now, let’s talk about the one that really hurts. Let’s talk about Joss Whedon.

I’ve made no secret of what a huge Whedon fan I am. Unlike Rowling, I was a HUUUUUGE superfan. Seeing Serenity for the first time in theaters was akin to a religious awakening to me as a storyteller, making it one of my top three movies of all time. Firefly is my favorite show ever. And I adored Buffy, Angel, and Dollhouse as well. I love Cabin in the Woods and The Avengers. The very first fanfic I ever wrote was a Firefly fanfic that disappeared along with my old laptop. I know his style isn’t for everyone, but I cannot understate how much of a personal inspiration he is to me as a writer.

And like Rowling, Joss was supposed to be one of the good guys! Buffy was monumental in pushing the needle when it came to female empowerment. Will and Tara were groundbreaking as a gay couple. He’s been outspoken for years about his feminist views and beliefs and was seen as one of the most prominent and influential feminist voices in Hollywood!

And then things started to go bad.

One day he was on top of the world, the mastermind behind the first two Avenger movies. And the next, it seemed like he was in freefall. It’s hard to really pinpoint exactly when the change took place. Some would say him being brought in as a last-minute substitute for Zack Snyder to take over on Justice League after Snyder had to leave due to family tragedy, and the subsequent awful critical reception to that film tarnishing his image, even if those were very unique circumstances that couldn’t really be blamed on him. Others might point to Age of Ultron’s less than stellar reception, as well as criticism of some questionable jokes and certain creative decisions regarding the character of Black Widow, which then led to a more critical examination of how Whedon continues to write female characters, as while his work might have been revolutionary in the 90’s, his failure to evolve with the times had meant that many of his portrayals are now woefully outdated and problematic, with his vision for a Batgirl movie getting hit with a lot of backlash as a result.

Again, I’m not going to go into too much detail, as this is all public knowledge and can be easily looked up, but overall it seemed that Whedon entered into a period where he was getting criticized more than he was celebrated, and his image of a guaranteed hit maker was now in doubt.

But all of this wasn’t the big problem. All creators go through rises and slumps, and everyone hits points where they get hit with a barrage of criticism; that’s just part of being a public creative figure, especially a progressive one. And had nothing happened after, it would have probably faded, got forgotten, and Whedon would have moved onto the next project with no fuss.

But as it turned out, it wasn’t just a minor slump in his career. Instead, it was the priming of the pump.

In 2016, Whedon divorced his wife of sixteen years, Kai Cole, and in an open letter, Kai Cole accused him of being a serial cheater, who would have affairs with a great many women, from co-workers, to actresses, to friends, to even his fans. And in addition to raising questions of him possibly abusing his position as showrunner to elicit sex from those working on his projects, there also is the ugly question of how could someone who speaks so highly of women then go and backstab the person who was supposed to be the most important woman in his life, as well as lying to her and denying her the autonomy of deciding whether or not she even wanted to continue to have a relationship with him?

Furthermore, Whedon himself has not explicitly denied these accusations, and comments made by him seem only to confirm them.

Now if you’ll recall, I reacted publicly to this news, and despite my admiration of Whedon’s work, I came down on Kai Cole’s side, and stated that while things like marriage issues and infidelity were no one’s business but that of the couple’s, it did raise a lot of uncomfortable questions about how Whedon treated the women in his life and he really needed to get his shit in order.

But hey, a messy private life and a guy falling into temptation isn’t that big of a deal, right? Plenty of creators also go through multiple marriages and have problems staying faithful and still continue making great art. We’re all human, it’s a stressful job, and this shit just happens, right? Sure, it’s gross and a shitty thing to do, but ain’t no business of ours, right?

In late 2020, actor Ray Fisher, who played the role of Cyborg in Justice League, openly accused Joss Whedon of fostering a hostile work environment, claiming that the director’s behavior was abusive and unprofessional, and that Whedon in turn was protected by DC executives.

DC and Warner Bros. came down against Fisher, claiming they had done an internal investigation that turned up no evidence of wrongdoing (yeah, sure they did), and soon Fisher was out as Cyborg, apparently for rocking the boat.

But then Charisma Carpenter, noted for her important role as Cordelia Chase in both Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, then spoke up, claiming to be inspired by Fisher in doing so. She described Whedon did indeed foster a hostile work environment on his projects, that his often acted in a toxic manner, from asking incredibly invasive and inappropriate questions regarding her pregnancy to insulting her on set. She said that she made excuses for him for years, but after undergoing a lot of therapy and reading what Ray Fisher had to say, she felt compelled to speak out.

And this just open the floodgates. Other actors and actresses also came forward, some with stories of their own, others to offer support. Even Buffy herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar, confirmed Carpenter’s stories and said that she no longer wanted to be associated with Whedon. Michelle Trachtenberg, who played the character of Dawn, stated that she also experienced toxic treatment from Whedon despite her being a minor at the time, and says that the set had a rule that Whedon wasn’t allowed to be alone with her again, which really raises some sickening questions of what happened the first time. Even male stars have spoken out, from words of support and apologies for not speaking up earlier from Anthony Stewart Head and David Boreanaz, to an earlier interview with James Marsters, in which he described being terrified of Whedon, mainly due to an instance when Whedon was frustrated with the popularity of Marsters’s character of Spike messing with his plans and physically and verbally taking it out on the actor. There have been many corroborating stories of Whedon being casually cruel on set, on seemingly taking delight in making his fellow show writers cry, and even the man himself admitting to enjoying fostering a hostile work environment during his director commentary of the Avengers. We’ve joked about Whedon’s supposed sadism for years, but that was in regards to how he treated the characters in his stories, not the people helping him make them!

So yeah. That’s the problem with Joss Whedon.

So, do I think that Joss Whedon is somehow some kind of sociopath who lied about his feminist principles and deliberately put on a progressive façade specifically to get into a position of power so he could torment people? No, of course not. I think he was sincere about his beliefs, and I do think he didn’t realize the wrongness of his behavior. But that’s kind of the problem. See, it’s one thing to have kind of a trollishness to your nature, a sort of sadistic side. No one can help that. But when someone with that quality gets put into a position of power in which they are protected by both the higher-ups and their legions of fans, they are allowed to mistreat and continue to mistreat people. And by never suffering any consequences, that sort of toxic behavior becomes internalized, becomes a habit, becomes their moda operandi. And when you’re constantly getting praised as a creative genius and a wonderful feminist voice, any self-criticism just gets wiped away, and you think yourself above reproach, leading to what Joss Whedon became and went on being.

And you know what scares me the most about this particular issue? It’s not that I am a fan of his stories. It’s that I can so easily see myself turning out the same way.

Look, I’ll be upfront about it: I’m kind of a sadist myself. You’ve seen it in my stories, you’ve seen me gloating after a particularly dark plot twist makes my readers freak out. That sort of stuff is fun to me. There’s a reason why I have a much easier time in the dark and violent scenes, because I’m channeling something ugly within me. We all have a dark side, and this is mine.

But UNLIKE Whedon, that doesn’t carry over to how I treat people in real life (unless Monopoly or Mario Party are involved, then it’s fair game). Maybe it’s because I wasn’t given the sort of power and praise he did so early, and I was always taught to be considerate of other people’s feelings, but if I ever find out that I hurt another person or went too fair, I feel TERRIBLE, and it just throws me off all day until I apologize. Even if I don’t notice right away that what I said or did wasn’t cool (autistic, remember?), when it’s pointed out to me and I have some time to think on it, yeah, the guilt is on and I make a point to apologize to whoever I’ve hurt. I’ve even made a point to apologize to members of my family for inconsiderate stuff I said years ago as a little punk kid because it wouldn’t stop bugging me.

So maybe Whedon got too big, too fast. Maybe putting people on these sorts of pedestals, especially progressive ones, is ultimately a bad thing.

So where does this leave us? How are we to treat JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, one who developed a lot of transphobia due to abuse suffered while the other became a toxic individual due to unchecked control and a lack of consequences? Can we still enjoy their stories despite them now being colored by their creators’ falls from grace? Can we separate the art from the artist, or do we have to do a clean split?

Honestly, I feel that has to come down to the individual. I can’t remove the influence Rowling and Whedon have had on me as a storyteller, and I still highly respect both of their talents despite taking major issue with their problems as people. And I’m not going go throw away all of my Harry Potter or Firefly stuff. Because that’s my stuff. It has value to me, it doesn’t represent the issues with their creators, and a lot of it was gifts from people who are dear to me. Though I do think it’ll be a long time before I return to either of their work, as I just don’t have the stomach for it now.

But I will be avoiding any projects they have in the future. I don’t want to put money in their pockets that might go on to support their toxic beliefs or behavior. And as for royalties for their past work that would also support the cast and crew of the Harry Potter films or those who worked on Whedon’s shows who do not deserve to lose money because we don’t want any of that money going to the creators? Er, that question is a little above my paygrade. I don’t know. You’ll have to all decide for yourselves. As for me, I still have a lot of thinking to do.

Regardless though, if I or anyone else is still able to enjoy their work, then it’s important to not divorce what these people said or did from the art they created, even if it makes enjoying that art less fun. It’s important to be critical about what we enjoy, to acknowledge the bad aspects along with the good, and open up discussion of those elements, because that’s what mature adults are supposed to do. 

And as for JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, whose stories I love, whose talent I admire, and whose past good work I’ll happily acknowledge, I do hope they both experience some sort of realization and enter into a period of self-examination that leads to them getting help for their issues, for Rowling to get help in coming to terms with her trauma and realizing that she’s wrong about the trans community and a full apology, and for Whedon to also come to terms with his toxic behavior and how he treats people, for him to make no excuse for what he did and sincerely apologize to those he hurt and work on bettering himself, as well as them both examining some of the more problematic tropes still present in their works. Because despite everything, I do feel that they can still be a creative force of good, and it would be a shame if they let themselves self-destruct.

But if not, then if it comes down to choosing between Rowling and the protecting the trans community, if it comes down between choosing between letting Whedon continue to make shows and protecting actors and writers from his abusive behavior, then I know who I’m siding with, and it ain’t the two individuals this whole essay is about. No story, no matter how good, no matter how creative, is worth letting sacrificing vulnerable people in order for it to be made.

[deascheck]

A Day in the Life of Sam and Dean Winchester

Summary: Sam and Dean end up in a parallel universe; the Trickster is back at it again. The reader is the key to the brothers getting home.

Word Count: 3507

Triggers: none…?? let me know if there’s a trigger I should have included! I’ll change it!

A/N: Any and all feedback is always appreciated!! Comments, likes, or reblogs welcomed! Thank you thank you to the amazing @that-one-gay-girl for beta'ing!!

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CHAPTER ONE

You headed over to the window, wondering what the weather was like. As you pulled the curtains back a few inches, you saw a dark sky that cast gloom over the earth. Great. A perfect day for curling up with my computer and a good book. Thank God it’s my day off. You walked over to your bookshelf and started browsing, already anticipating a wonderful day to yourself.

You’d say it was about time, too. You’d been working crazy hours for about three weeks. You were exhausted, and the sleep-in you’d just had was only the start of what you needed. Pulling a book from the shelf, you headed towards your favorite chair. It was a big, plush chair that had a lever you could pull and it extended into a recliner. It was old and weathered; your grandparents left it to you in their will. You would never get rid of this chair, or get tired of using it.

As you settled in with a fleece blanket and a cup of coffee, the doorbell rang. God bless… Come on people. I just want a quiet day to myself! You could just feel yourself going into grump mode, so you took a sip of coffee and walked over to the door, mentally getting into your small talk mode instead. You pulled open the door and stared.

“Hi, Y/N? My name is Sam, and this is my brother Dean. We were hoping we could take a few minutes to talk with you.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles were at your door. And apparently they were in character. You couldn’t decide whether to laugh or run and hide. So you opened the door further and stepped aside to let them in. Oh shit, my apartment is such a mess right now.. Shit. That’s it, I’m always keeping it clean. God knows when I’m going to have visitors, let alone friggin celebrities! As they stepped through the doorway, they both ducked their heads and smiled at you, attempting to make you feel more at ease. Clearly the panic was written all over your face. All their smiles did was raise your heart rate.

Once everyone was all situated in the living, and you’d gotten them coffee, you asked, “So, what’s this all about?”

The brothers looked at each other, doing their silent communication thing, and then Dean or Jensen took the lead. “Here’s the thing Y/N. It’s kind of a long story, but the short of it is that we are not from here… and we need help getting back home. You’re our ticket home.”

You laughed. “I’M your ticket home? Ok, come on. I’m willing to bet you’ve never heard of me until today. And you’re actors… So what're you testing me on? Do you need another cast member?”

Sam, or Jared, sighed. He seemed tired. His shoulders were a little slumped and his movements slower than you would have expected. “I get that you think we’re Jared and Jensen. But we’re not. We’re Sam and Dean. We got transported here, a parallel universe, and you are the way we get home.” He looked at you with his famous puppy eyes. “Please, Y/N. Will you help us?”

You stared, unable to comprehend that Sam and Dean Winchester were in your living room. “Give me a minute,” you managed to sputter out, and receded to your kitchen where you grabbed an oven mitt from the counter and started fanning yourself. What is happening? I’m dreaming.. or they’re really truly playing a prank on me. How the fuck do they know who I am? You weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t feel particularly special, with no great talents or hobbies. You were just a simple person, who lived to go to work, and come home; you had no friends. Honestly, you didn't really fit in with anyone at work. You were quiet, and tended to listen more than participate. You didn’t have any witchy habits or any werewolf or vampire characteristics… that you knew of. But if you had any monster tendencies, you were pretty sure you would have been attacked by Sam and Dean, not having them knock on your door and ask you to send them home.

Squaring your shoulders, you sighed, and walked back out to the living room. Sam and Dean were exactly where you’d left them, Sam sitting awkwardly in your non-favorite armchair, and Dean perched on the edge of the couch. They were talking earnestly but quietly.

Sam noticed that you were coming back in the room first, and broke off from the conversation. “Y/N. How are you doing with all of this?”

“Umm… clearly seeing, but still working on believing,” you answered honestly. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable.

“Hey, sweetheart, I know it’s a lot to take in. But I’m gonna need you to believe it, and work on helpin’ us out,” Dean stated, not unkindly.

You nodded and sat in your armchair, grabbing your coffee from the side table next to you. “Okay.” You said with a deep breath. “What do you need me to do? How am I supposed to get you home?”

Sam explained softly, as if trying not to scare you off. He said, “Well, from what we’ve gathered from this world is that you’re ahead of ours. All the monsters have been eradicated by the hunters. We found a Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, and according to the records, you’re the sole survivor of the Legacies. You alone possess the power to get us home. The records said you are in possession of the inter-dimensional traveling spells, for their protection.” He looked at you with hope on his face.

You laughed. “Men of Letters? Here? Monsters? Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

“I told you she wouldn’t believe you,” interjected Dean, rolling his eyes.

You would’ve been indignant at Dean’s tone, except he was right. You didn’t believe him. It was just too preposterous.

“I know, that’s why I brought these,” stated Sam, matter-of-factly. He reached into his beige denim jacket and pulled out a file full of a small handful of documents. “These are the papers that explain about Y/N.”

Unsure what to believe, you hesitantly reached out and took the file gingerly from Sam’s giant hand. You flipped it open on your lap and started to read the first page. Sure enough, it described how you were a Legacy, and how your lineage meshed with the Men of Letters. My grandfather was a Man of Letters?? What in the hell? How did I never hear stories of monsters then? Or hunters? Your jaw dropped as you continued to read. It described how the spells for inter-dimensional travel were kept in a safe room, and the only key was with you. I don’t have a key! I was never even told about a key, let alone the Men of Letters and inter-dimensional travel. Fuck!

Shutting the file after reading the first couple pages, you looked at them with regret on your face. “I’m sorry to let you guys down, but I don’t have a key. I was never told about a key or spells. I don’t even know where the safe room is!”

Rubbing his face with his hand, Dean groaned. He put his hand up to his temple and started rubbing it with a couple fingers. ‘Alright,” he said. “Do you have a family house that you grew up in? One that held multiple generations?”

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded. “It’s about 10 minutes away, in the suburbs.”

The brothers’ faces lit up as they both had the same thought. The house held a secret room. Looking between the brothers, you smirked. You knew what they were thinking, because, well, you were thinking the same thing. What kind of family history were you about to discover?

You offered to drive, so they wouldn’t have to use a stolen car. However, you made them move the one they’d stolen to get to your apartment. You weren’t gonna have cops knocking on your door about no stolen car. Walking to the passenger side of your Nissan Kicks first, you pushed the seat back as far as it could go. Sam’s legs weren’t going to fit in the backseat. Dean’s would probably barely fit behind your seat.

You saw Sam smirk at Dean from the corner of your eye as you walked around to your door. You smiled to yourself. You knew Dean liked being in the front seat- hell, he preferred to be the one driving. Suck it up buttercup. Getting in, you plugged your phone in for Apple CarPlay to come up and went with your “Oldies” playlist. Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Pat Benatar, etc. You figured that’s what they’d like the most, and to be honest, it had been a while since you listened to it, so you were glad to put it on.

As you drove, you could see Dean’s head bobbing to the music. Night Moves, by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band played through the speakers. You couldn’t help but think of the episode in Supernatural where Sam said, “Don’t ‘Night Moves’ me!” The thought of it made you grin.

When you got to the house, you sat in your car for a minute. You hadn’t been here in about a year. The house was yours, left to you by your parents when they’d died in a car crash two years ago. It was paid off before they died, so it wasn’t like you were paying out the wazoo for it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sell it. Now you were glad that you hadn’t.

Sam and Dean waited quietly for you to get out of the car. They could tell something was on your mind, but they weren’t going to push it too much since they barely knew you. Sam did ask, “Hey, are you ok?”

It brought you out of your thoughts with a jolt and you forced a smile. “Yeah! Come on, let’s go in. I own it, so there shouldn’t be anyone there. It’s not my housekeeper’s day to clean.” At Sam and Dean’s questioning looks, you added, “I hired a housekeeper to clean every other week. My parents died two years ago, and once I’d finished handling everything, I couldn’t bring myself to stay here. I haven’t been back in about a year. But selling it is not an option in my book either.”

It was a nice house, a two-story brick house with a porch running the entire length of the front of the house. There were four white pillars spaced across the porch. You smiled. You loved that house. There were so many good memories from your childhood. The lawn looked amazing; you paid a company to keep it manicured, as you liked to call it. You were glad, because you would have been embarrassed if it had had two years worth of overgrowth. The roses and peonies that lined the porch were in full bloom, adding a beautiful touch of color to the house and lawn.

You got out of the car and headed for the side door, which was closest to where you were parked in the long driveway. Sam and Dean trailed behind you, admiring the house. You took your key out of your jeans pocket and twisted it in the lock, pushing open the door. It smelled just like it always had. It was a clean linen type of smell, and you would never get tired of it. The housekeeper that cleaned the house clearly had honored your wishes about the scent plug-ins.

The side door opened to a mud room, which was quaint. It had the washer and dryer on one side, as well as racks for coats and shoes on the other. You took your shoes off before pushing through the mud room door. You entered the kitchen. It was a decent sized kitchen, remodeled by your mom, who loved to cook. The kitchen island was spotless and shiny. You smiled. As painful as it was, it was good to be home.

Sam and Dean respectfully took their shoes off and followed you, eager to see the house. You bee-lined for the family room, which had a massive bookshelf that you were going to start looking for research with. Calling over your shoulder to the brothers who were still taking in the kitchen, you said, “Make yourselves at home. Make a cup of coffee, explore the house. Do whatever you want. I’m going to start in the family room and try to find some books on the Men of Letters or something.”

They yelled a thanks back. You heard one of them start messing with the coffee pot. You grinned. Whichever one it was, was a man after your own heart. Dean walked in, clearly looking for something.

“What are you looking for, Dean?” you asked.

“Oh, I’m looking for a blank wall, or a wall with just a picture or two on it. Something that might be a false wall.”

“Hmm,” you said. “The living room has two walls with pictures, and the study has one wall. That’s it for the first floor. Second floor has a lot of walls with pictures- the bedrooms. And the basement has two walls without stuff against them.”

Dean nodded and went in search of the living room. You could hear him knocking on the walls and you grinned. You couldn’t believe this was really happening. Sam and Dean Winchester were in your house, and they were looking for a hidden room that held secrets you hadn’t even fantasized about.

Sam came out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his hand. “Thank you for the coffee,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome. It’s nice to get some use out of this house.”

Sam looked at the bookshelf. “I’d be surprised if there was anything here. It was a very secretive society; I don’t think they’d leave anything related to it in the open.”

You rolled your eyes at yourself. “You’re right, of course. But, it doesn’t hurt to look. Not a stone unturned, right?”

Sam smiled and nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll go to the basement and start there. Are there any books down there?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a couple bookshelves down there. My dad absolutely loved to read. The basement door is through this room and is the second door on the left down the hallway.”

Sam headed that direction while you scanned the books. You were seeing about every author known to man, with every possible title but nothing that would alert you to the Men of Letters. You remembered the symbol that had been on the papers in the file about you, and decided to re-scan the books to check for that symbol.

Meanwhile, Dean had made it upstairs, still knocking on each wall. He’d taken to knocking on every wall instead of just the bare ones, in case a bookshelf or a desk or dresser was blocking the door to the secret room.

He trampled back downstairs where you were just finishing with your bookcase. You’d even taken some books out and checked them to make sure they weren’t cut out and hiding anything.

Dean came up behind you and said, “No luck on the first or second floor. Where’s Sammy? The basement?”

As he asked, the two of you heard Sam yell, “Hey guys! I found something!”

You led Dean quickly to the hall and down the stairs. The light was on downstairs and Sam was holding a book in his hands next to one of the bookshelves. He held it up with a knowing look on his face. It was the symbol of the Men of Letters. You laughed with glee. “You found it!! Oh thank god!”

Dean immediately strode over to Sam and said, “If that book was in this case, let’s move the shelf and see if there’s a false wall behind here.”

Sam nodded and together they pulled the heavy bookcase away from the wall, grunting with the effort. You were impressed. That was a heavy ass bookshelf. Dean knocked on the wall behind it. It sounded hollow. They exchanged meaningful glances and Sam said, “Y/N, this is probably where we’ll need the key. Do you know where it might be?”

Your heart fell. You’d forgotten about the key. You had no idea where it might be. “Umm there’s a drawer of keys in the kitchen. It’s got keys for everything in the house. Rooms, safes, the house, etc. I guess we could start there?”

Dean stayed behind, running his hands along the fake wall, looking for a way to get through while Sam and you went back upstairs and to the kitchen. You pulled open a small drawer that looked like it was just decorative. “Smart,” Sam said. “I wouldn’t have guessed that that was a drawer.”

You smiled. “Yeah, Dad did that on purpose. It’s the one piece of input he had in this whole kitchen.” You chuckled a little at the memory of when your parents were remodeling it, arguing about the size and placement of various drawers.

Rifling through it, you looked for a key you didn’t recognize. Unfortunately, you didn’t recognize several of them. What kinds of secrets did your dad hide? Your face fell. “I don’t know. There are a lot that I’m not sure of.”

Sam thought for a minute and asked, “Where are your bowls?”

“Next to the fridge,” you answered, confused.

He pulled out a bowl from the cupboard and then grabbed a handful of keys and dropped them in the bowl. “When in doubt, try all of them!” He said with a laugh.

You smirked and grabbed the last couple keys and put them in the bowl. “Alright then,” you said. “Let’s do this!”

Once back downstairs, you noticed a hole where the wall had been. You were glad Sam was carrying the bowl, or you would have dropped it. Your jaw went slack. “What in the world…?” You trailed off, not believing your eyes.

Dean smiled proudly at himself. “The wall had a push spot. I pushed it and it flipped open. But there’s still a door here with a lock, like we predicted. Did you get the key?” His eyes widened slightly at the amount of keys in the bowl when Sam brought it closer, and then laughed. “That’s one way to do it,” he chuckled.

Grabbing the first key, you attempted to get it in the lock. “Oh lord, it’s not even close to a fit. Are there any really small ones? This is a tiny lock!”

Sam fished around and brought out two. “Here, try these,” he offered. You took them from his outstretched hand, ignoring the shock you felt when your fingers brushed his palm.

“No, they don’t fit either. The lock is even smaller than these,” you said in frustration after failing with both keys. You grabbed the locket around your neck for comfort. Your father had given it to you when you graduated college. It was maybe your most prized possession. The only time you took it off was to shower. Whenever you held it, you felt like you could feel his presence.

Dean’s eyes fell on your locket. “Hey, is anything inside that locket?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” you said. “But I’ve never been able to get it open,” you confessed right after. “I’ve also never tried too hard, either. My dad gave it to me when I graduated around seven years ago. It’s very special to me.”

Sam looked softly at you. “May I?” he asked.

Oddly finding yourself trusting him, you looped the locket over your head and handed it to him wordlessly. He inspected the lock on it carefully after attempting to open it himself. His mouth dropped.

“It’s glued shut!” he exclaimed. He took out his knife and very carefully wiggled it to get through the glue. It was rock solid and took him more than a minute to get through it without damaging the locket. It suddenly sprang open; he’d clearly gotten enough off for it to open. A small key fell into his hand.

“Oh my god!” you almost yelled. “I can’t believe it! You got it open!” Sam handed you the key with a broad smile that showed off his dimples. “Give it a try,” he encouraged.

Trembling, you stuck the key in the lock. It clicked. Instinctively, you pushed, and into view came a big room, full of files, books, shelves, a desk and a table. On the wall was a giant Men of Letter symbol. Unable to get any words past your lips, you stepped in, not believing your eyes.

Sam and Dean followed you in, their eyes taking in every inch of the room. They grinned simultaneously and said, “This is how we get home.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #355

“despite all my rage, i am still just a rat in a cage”

Have you ever shared a shower or bath with someone as an adult? No, only as a kid. What kind of pizza toppings do you like? Meats or jalapenos. When did you first take a shot of alcohol? Never, and I'm not interested. Did you babysit for money when you were in middle school? No. Who is your favorite band? How long have they been? Ozzy Osbourne, since middle school. Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? My old house, yes. Not the one I currently live in. Have you ever been to a spa? Only because my friend at the time took me. When talking on the phone, do you place it against your left or right ear? My right. What’s your favourite Lunchables meal? The nachos one. Do you like Bob Marley? NO. Omg his voice is awful. Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Yeah. I'm not a big fan. Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family? We only ever do that if my sister is over (she comes for dinner once a week). Are you listening to any music right now? If so, what are you listening to? Yeah, Violet Orlandi's cover of "Bullet With Butterfly Wings" by The Smashing Pumpkins. God she's so beautiful and talented and asdfjkaljddkfjlwkee FUCK I'm gay for her. Who was the last person to make you genuinely smile? Watching Mark. :') Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? Yeah. Do you like men who have a sensitive side? Yes. Please be in touch with your emotions, for the love of God. Have you ever tried to get someone into a certain band/artist? Not persistently, no, but Mini is a case where me mentioning them enough got her to listen to them. Metallica, by the way. They're her favorite band because of mwah, haha. Have you ever carved you and someone else’s initials into a tree? It's possible, but I don't believe so. Do you like Dairy Queen? Love it. They're Oreo Cupfection thing is BOMB. Is there anyone you know with an amazing personal success story? Yes. I have a friend Shannen who first was a widely-recognized photographer in the state, and now she's a fashion designer (or something like that) up in New York. Is there a song in a different language that you can sing? A number of Rammstein songs. How do you feel about bands that use pyrotechnics in live concerts? So long they're well-made for safety reasons, I don't care much. They do seem a bit unnecessary, though; like just look at James Hetfield's accident that burned half his body because of standing in the wrong place. It seems easy to fuck up and get in a dangerous range. Ever fallen down a hole? No. Do you like bananas? Yeah. How long do you normally spend in the shower? Not even 10 minutes, usually. I've never understood how people can take such long showers. Have you ever been a featured member on any website? Yeah, on a Silent Hill fansite. Have you ever had any weird pets? Not by my standards. A ball python morph is as "weird" as it gets. Are you currently talking to/texting/instant messaging anyone? Nope. Have you ever experienced insomnia? Ugh, yes. I went through a horrible insomnia spell, and I still have an awful time trying to fall asleep. Do you like egg nog? Nooo. Would you ever wear Converse with a prom/formal dress? I'm not opposed to it, but realistically I'd probably wear something more traditionally suiting just because. Do you prefer hot chocolate with or without marshmallows? Without. How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over? I've cried all the oceans over just one lol. Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician? Being a mortician actually doesn't sound awful, weird as it sounds. It sounds almost relaxing if I could just be alone with some music doing my job. Would rather be a musician or a painter? A painter. Would you rather write your own book or make your own movie? I'd love to write a book. At home, do you have a trampoline? No. When you are about to go to bed, do you put on some sort of noise? No. What is your favorite Christmas movie? Jim Carrey's How The Grinch Stole Christmas. And what about your favorite Christmas song? Probably "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" or whatever it's called. "Carol of the Bells" too, of course. What is your ultimate favorite stocking stuffer? Haha, okay so it seems to be an unspoken rule that Mom always gets us Slim Jims for our stockings, and that's obviously the best considering my sisters and I loooove them yet still don't buy them much. You're making me ready for Christmas, lol. After Halloween, do you sort out all of your candy into little piles? I did as a kid, and then my sisters and I would trade what we preferred. When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it? It's honestly pretty loud. What did you have for breakfast this morning? Cold pizza from dinner leftovers last night. What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet? Our late boxer mix, Cali. She was a big 'ole pup. Do you own any kind of helmet? No. Out of everything currently in your refrigerator, what food or drink is your favorite? Food: strawberries. Drink: Mountain Lightning. What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? Either when I skinned my knees so deep that pus was visible, or when I fainted onto my chin and got a short, but very deep cut. Do you like the taste of cough syrup? No. What is something you like to have conversations about? I like talking about deep stuff, like where we came from, our unique feelings and beliefs, conspiracy theories and cryptids, mysterious stuff like that, too. And don't forget animals. And Mark, haha. What all is in the trunk of your car? I don't have a car, and I don't remember what's in Mom's trunk, even though I helped bring in groceries just the other day. Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? Ew, no. Is your heat or air conditioning currently on? Our AC is currently on because it's too damn hot. The weather here has been so up and down, it's wild. Have you ever fallen off of a horse? No. Which do you value more, your appearance or your intelligence? Honestly? I'd be dumber than I already am if it meant being happy with how I look, because my appearance now is a key factor to my depression. When was the last time you drove something other than a car or truck? Oh jeez... I have no idea. I don't think since I've driven a golf cart at someone's b-day party as a kid. Were your grandparents present when you were born? No. If you drink/smoke, how often do you do these things? I don't smoke, and I only have a drink or two very rarely, usually just on special occasions. What do you think of fast food? I like it way more than I wish I did. What website do you spend the most time on and why? YouTube, because I'm always listening to and/or watching something. What’s the most amount of time you’ve spent online? Is this usual for you? In one non-stop setting, I don't want to know. I pretty much only exist on the computer. When it comes to travel, what kinds of places intrigue you most? Mountainous, loads of nature, cooler/cold, mysterious locations... stuff like that. Do you think humans colonizing Mars is a good idea? Would you go, if you could? If we learn from our goddamn mistakes and not fuck up its environment, it could be healthy or even life-saving for humanity, but I'd prefer to stay on Earth as long as possible. What is the farthest you’ve walked in one day and what made you do it? I dunno, maybe at Disney World or something like that as a kid. What is something important that’s often on your mind lately? Physical health stuff. I'm worried about a lot of things relating to that. What about something unimportant, but you can’t stop thinking about it? I don't know about "unimportant," at least to me. Do you like oatmeal? If so, what kinds of things do you like in it? Yeah. I only really eat the cinnamon apple ones; I always use milk and sprinkle some sugar in there, and it's delicious. What was going on the last time you felt nostalgic? When Mom and I stopped at Jason's house to bring the family some treats following his mother's death. I stayed in the car and couldn't even look towards the house, but yeah. So many memories just stampeded me. How much attention do you pay to the movements of the stars and planets, and do you believe they influence anything? I pay zero attention to it; I don't believe they have influence over people in any way. What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? I guess you could say World of Warcraft. It's definitely the most involved, like I've been playing it almost consistently since 2014, and I used to be in a Heroic raid team, which certainly wasn't easy. Then there's some achievements I busted my ass to get. Which accent do you find most sexy, alluring or appealing? British is where it's at. Which accent do you find most annoying, disturbing, or bothersome? Extremely Southern ones. Can you cry on cue? Is it any kind of useful? No. Does it take you a while to actually get jokes? Embarrassingly, it frequently does. Can you wear socks to bed or does it annoy you? Ugh, I could never. I hate the feeling of socks. Have you ever bleached your hair? By myself, no, but a professional has to dye it. Do you like jelly beans? They're okay. It really depends on the flavor, and even then I can't eat a lot of them. Do you have trouble sleeping when it’s storming? Yes, but not because it scares me, but rather that I'm just jumpy. Subtle thunder isn't so bad, and I LOVE the drone of heavy rain, but once you add booming thunder and strong flashes of lightning, it's too disruptive for me to fall asleep easily. Who was the last person you know that graduated? (high school or college) My not-so-little sister is just about to finish her Master's lakdsjfakwe I'm so proud of her. Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming? I think I was always kinda bummed out, even though I liked my babysitters. I had horrible separation anxiety from my mom. Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten? No, but I did have this one guy who'd been like obsessed with me since pre-k and would always chase me to hug and kiss me. In pre-k it was awful, but he still did it sometimes in kindergarten, despite the teachers getting on him about it. It's actually a memory I forgot for a very long time, like I think my brain tried to oppress it, and I wonder if it has anything to do with my fear of people standing behind me, men specifically, and being raped. Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series? Oh yes, I was obsessed! Who was your best friend in elementary school? It jumped between Brianna, Kim, and Quiata. Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies? YESSSSS. I even had the computer game. Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. I'd put them on my dresser everywhere to the point it was absolutely covered. Did you get an allowance? No. Not because my parents didn't want to or anything, but rather they couldn't afford allowances to three kids. Were you into American Girl dolls? Nah. I got one, but I think it was mostly so my sisters and I each had our own. Nicole, however, was sooooo into them. Were you friends with your childhood neighbors? Some, yeah, especially the boy down my street named D'Andre. We would hang out ALL the time, be it at each other's houses or just riding our bikes. He actually got married very recently and I'm so happy for him, ahhhhh!! What was your biggest fear when you were a kid? Thunderstorms. Did you ever play the "Reader Rabbit" computer games? Oh my god, YES. The one where you were hosting a surprise birthday party was my absolute favorite. Did your parents let you drink soda growing up? Yes. .-. What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid? Chocolate, of course.

[x0401x]

Why do you think the writers of the Tsurune anime decided to tone down masamina and outright cut out kaisei while pushing for sei/mina instead? It's just so baffling to me why they would alter the canon content from the novels so much. Like, what was even the point?

I’ve answered this question quite a few times before, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever made the point entirely clear, so here we go one last time. Sorry that it turned out so long.

So, in novels and manga or any written medium, creators normally have more freedom to do what they want, but when it comes to TV series, animators have been developing the habit of toning down whatever they can. Most of them have this conviction that the viewers only want to watch calm and relaxing stuff nowadays. Other than this, we get adaptations of popular works that basically exist to promote the source material, most of which rush up towards the end like crazy. It does seem like the Japanese audience has an obsession with comfort animes now, since life in Japan gets more and more stressful with each passing year, but it’s not like they’ve abandoned other genres. This general belief that creators should water down the contents however they can is pretty much destroying the industry, and it’s probably what the animators of Tsurune had in mind when changing the novel’s events into a much less dramatic versions or just cutting them off. That’s issue number 1 with the anime.

Issue number 2 is that animators of adaptations tend to ignore the reader demographic in favor of making the series neutral to please all audiences lately. But that’s only when the majority of the readers are women and girls. If it’s guys, you’d rarely see alterations. It feels like the general conception is that making the contents less “cringy” for men means more people will be watching it and having a positive opinion. It seems to completely slip the staff’s minds that the fans they disappoint mostly won’t feel willing to buy the DVDs or merchandise. This is where most of these adaptations fall flat, by the way. It’s kind of really obvious to me that these series are more prone to succeeding if the studios animate what the readers fell in love with, because the originals are popular for a reason, and it’s that people liked them the way they were. I think it’s only the expected when readers are disappointed not to see animes live up to the expectations, and that whoever picks the source material will feel the difference as well. Still, if the anime isn’t a BL, there’s this unsaid rule that you can’t show too much gay between male characters unless you have an excuse for it. Normally, nakama power and rivalry is what does the trick. I don’t think I need to mention that this is the standard in sports animes.

In the Tsurune novel, most of the gay doesn’t have an excuse. Of course, it’s not officially gay unless canon states it, but the books not only don’t give any justification for it, they get rid of possible justifications, so while you can’t say it’s not fanservice, you can’t label it as just fanservice, either. For a studio that banks off fanservice like KyoAni, that’s a problem, especially since the novel is packed with heavy scenes and even heavier quotes.

I mean, in Masaki and Minato’s case, they don’t have the nakama power or rivalry elements, so one possible excuse for them being so close would be that they’re master and disciple. But Minato makes it clear quite early in the story that Masaki doesn’t have to be his master because just having Masaki’s company is enough for him, and all in all, the two of them have a much more affectionate relationship than the other teacher-student ones from the books. Another excuse would be the found family dynamics, but Masaki already shares that with Kaito, who canonically sees Masaki as the older brother he never had, and their relationship is unlike Masaki and Minato’s as well. Kaito also has a monologue in volume 2 about Masaki treating Minato differently from everyone else in the club, and the way he describes it denotes that Minato is Masaki’s favorite, and that Masaki doesn’t bother hiding it. Just as a cherry on top, Minato often loses his rationality when it comes to Masaki despite being a serious kid, and he’s very verbal about wanting to monopolize Masaki. Add fate to the mix and you have the perfect recipe for anything except an ordinary mentor-pupil relationship.

As for Kaito and Seiya, there was a lot going on between them since the beginning, but the nakama power excuse only starts applying late in volume 1, because they didn’t get along very well at first. And even then the nakama stuff hardly applies to their interactions, where Seiya often acts like Kaito has a thing for him, for no reason other than Kaito’s reactions being amusing. Their relationship also does some big strides in the middle of volume 1, and Seiya literally migrates to Kaito’s side at some point. They don’t seem to have a friendship as strong as the one between Seiya, Minato and Ryouhei, but it’s Kaito who Seiya interacts with the most in volume 2 and he’s also the one that Seiya leans on whenever he needs any sort of assistance. There’s other unexplainable things here and there, such as Seiya taking a peek at Kaito’s sleeping face when it’s just the two of them in the room, or him implying that Kaito is jealous of the motherly attention he gives Minato. It goes on as far as the novel does. There’s literally no scene with the two of them that doesn’t make it look like Kaito is really into Seiya and that Seiya owns his ass but he’s the last one to know.

Back to the main point, it’s really hard to animate all of this without giving people “ideas”. For KyoAni, any gay exists ultimately for the sake of fetishization, and they often follow the “ship whatever you want, even yourself with the characters” model. If being gay is canonically a character trait in the original, it’s out (Violet Evergarden is probably the best example of that one), and if the gay can’t be interpreted as something else, it’s either out or downplayed. In Seiya and Minato’s case, that’s perfectly feasible. Not only are they best friends, they also have a familial relationship where Seiya treats Minato like a son. Minato has sworn eternal friendship to Seiya in the novel, and both he and Kaito describe Seiya as something like a helicopter parent. There’s more than enough counter-argument to remind the viewers that, whatever happens between Minato and Seiya, it’s all a product of their childhood friend bond. Anyone is free to interpret it differently in fanon, but the viewers (at least the Japanese ones) are ultimately aware that the anime is in its “safe zone”, portraying a friendship. Nobody on the Japanese side of the fandom actually believed that there was romance going on in it. On the other hand, if you search in Japanese for people’s impressions of MasaMina, you’ll notice people often saying that the novel makes you wonder if Minato and Masaki aren’t actually dating, or if Minato doesn’t have a puppy crush on Masaki, at the very least. Basically, everyone seems to agree that what goes on between those two is hard to define, but whatever it is, there’s this very particular, “special” air about them that differs from the rest of the characters, which normally manifests when they’re alone together.

As you can tell, this overall view is the opposite of the animators’ ideal. If the novel had been animated the way it is, it would’ve probably felt like a BL for the people watching. Not only does it come with practically set ships, it also doesn’t give much space for the proverbial “ship even yourself with the characters” option. To put it bluntly, the animation went through those changes so that it could fit the mold. It gave us SeiMina and even some NanaKai (the latter being honestly disturbing, since they’re cousins), while either toning down or erasing the rest of the duo and trio interactions. It made Minato’s accident with his mom actually seem like Seiya’s fault and didn’t really take the burden off his shoulders but instead swept it under the rug. It also made Masaki seem like a two-faced bastard who only became a coach for the sake of revenge, which means he was using his students (actual 15/16-year-olds) for his own personal gains. Shuu and Minato’s friendship went down the drain, Ryouhei was pushed aside as if Seiya was Minato’s only childhood friend, Nanao was never depicted as his own person, and the girls didn’t even exist 90% of the time. So yeah, none of the changes served any good purpose for the characters’ images. All it did was (try to) fill a quota.

Personally, this whole thing feels like we’re being told to the face, “we’ve given you what you want, now give us your money”. It brings me back to interviews I’ve read featuring Stars Align director Akane Kazuki and his statements about the anime industry being in a pinch, specifically because animators nowadays keep trying to make a fool out of the audience for monetary ends. Seems clear to me that the staff thought the female viewers would latch onto anything as long as it looked remotely gay, and that’s why I was so angry back then. Being looked down on like this by people who expect us to consume their media is pretty offensive, in my opinion. I’m glad there’s at least one creator speaking up about this matter and using the exact same arguments as I have been for more than two years now.

[sonicrainicorn]

A New Kind of Stupid

Part of the Berry Done AU

Words: 2631 Desc./Prompt: Patton had always been too good at lying. TW: Infidelity, alcohol, slight descriptive make out scene

Get ready for an angst fest, folks

///

The veterinary field was a woman-heavy space. In Patton's work, there were only three men: Thomas Sanders, Alec Williams, and himself. Alec was a veterinarian. He was engaged to a beautiful woman that Patton had the pleasure of meeting a few times. She was very sweet. Thomas was the receptionist. He was currently between relationships. Patton was a vet tech -- a nurse for animals. He was married to Logan and they had two eleven-year-old twins, Roman and Virgil.

One day, another male entered the workforce: Bailey Foster.

Bailey turned out to be another vet. He was single and a huge flirt. Topped with good looks and a wonderful personality, it was almost as if he came straight out of a Disney movie. All the women fawned over him during his first week. Even some of the owners of their patients were captivated by his charm.

Thomas and Alec started a betting pool with each other to see if the ever-enchanting Dr. Foster was "in the closet or straight as a stripper's pole" (in Alec’s words). Whoever won had bragging rights and free lunch for a week. So a lot was on the line.

Patton watched on with amusement as the two tried to prove themselves right. Anytime one of them talked to him, it seemed as if it went in either of their favors. The times they weren't in direct contact with him weren't any easier. He smiled at everyone, flirted with women, and made men blush, but they were determined to have a winner.

It wasn't until they were in the break room one day that they had their answer.

Alec and Thomas were sitting at the table arguing over something nerdy (as was their custom) and Patton was searching the fridge for a tub of what was probably spaghetti that he left a few weeks ago. He needed that tub back. He had been bringing lunch in one of the twins' old snack containers for the past few days.

"Aha! There you are," Patton murmured to himself. He grabbed the tub of spaghetti(?) and closed the fridge. He yelped and jumped back when he saw someone standing where the door was.

Bailey laughed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just came for my water."

Patton let out an embarrassed smile. "If I knew you were standing there I would've gotten out of your way." He took a step back from the fridge. "All yours."

"Was that an invitation for you or the fridge?" Bailey smirked.

The tub almost fell from Patton's hands. He sputtered before remembering how words work, "The fridge." He felt Alec and Thomas's eyes burning into his back. It made his face heat up even more. "That invitation is reserved for someone else."

"Hmm." Bailey opened the door and grabbed the water bottle waiting there for him. "Lucky them." He winked before leaving.

The only sound heard for a moment or two was the beating in Patton's chest. Then Thomas shot up from his seat, scrapping the chair along the floor, and shouted at Alec, "He's gay! He's super gay!"

"I refuse to believe that!" Alec stood up to be even with Thomas. "Have you seen how he looks at Emily? Patton --!" He pointed at said person, who jumped in response -- "final verdict."

Patton floundered. He must have looked like an idiot standing in the middle of the break room with a tub of expired food and a burning face. He felt like one, that's for sure. "Uh, he's definitely not straight."

Alec shouted in anguish while Thomas cheered.

Neither of them was aware of how Bailey made Patton's heart flutter.

Over the next month, Dr. Foster became a favorite among the staff and pet owners. He began talking to Patton as often as possible after their first interaction and it left Patton confused. Bailey always managed to make him stumble over his words or blush and there was no reason he should. He was in love with Logan. He was married to Logan. He adopted children with Logan. There should be no one else he wanted.

So he felt a little guilty when he agreed to go to Bailey's party... without Logan.

"You know I don't mind not leaving the house," Logan said. "But may I remind you the last time you went to a party without me?"

Patton felt instant embarrassment. "Thomas will be with me --"

"That doesn't instill confidence."

"-- and he swore not to drink this time. He even set a reminder on his phone. Plus, the twins are old enough to not want to be tucked in by me so we won't have a repeat of last time." He mumbled that last part of the sentence to himself.

Logan raised a brow and returned to his book. "What time will you be back, then?"

"Late."

Logan peeked at him over his glasses. "I expect you to call me this time -- and not for weird science facts."

Patton grinned. "Sure thing, bumblebee."

~~~

Patton may or may not have been drunk. 

It wasn't like he was going to deny the drinks people had worked hard to make -- that would have been rude. If not being rude meant taking countless amounts of shots and a tequila sunrise or two then so what? He wasn't harming anybody.

After an undisclosed shot number, Patton lost sight of Thomas. The last time they were near each other was when he tossed a water bottle at him from the outside cooler. Deciding that was a good place to start, Patton stumbled outside.

There weren't many people out there. There were couples here and there and the occasional trio, but there was one person by himself. Bailey was leaning against the short, back wall overlooking the slope down. There was a great view of the city that Patton became drawn to.

"I feel like I came here to ask you something, but I don't remember," Patton slurred to Bailey.

Bailey raised a brow in a way that was reminiscent of Logan. "Was it maybe some advice on whether or not you should keep drinking?"

Patton snorted and took a sip of... something. He kind of forgot what it was but it was pretty good. "I 'ave a full cape-bility to stop whenever I want." He set the cup down on the wall.

"I hope you don't take offense to this, but I don't believe you."

Patton laughed. "You're probably right." Logan was most of his impulse control.

Bailey gave him a fond smile. "Has anyone ever told you you're beautiful, Pat?"

"Me? Uh, like once in middle school I think." He couldn't recall another time. "Why?"

"Because you are." Bailey got a little closer. "You have the prettiest brown eyes I've ever seen, the most gorgeous smile, and a wonderful mop of hair."

"I think you're too kind." Patton grinned. He grabbed his cup with the intention of drinking some more but was stopped. It slipped from his fingers and splashed onto the other side of the wall.

Bailey pressed their lips together.

Patton pulled away a bit. There was a tiny corner of his brain screaming at him to stop -- to find Thomas and go home to his husband and children -- but the rest of his alcohol-fueled mind was slow to catch up. He stood there and let Bailey connect their lips again.

The kiss was gentle -- loving almost. It was as if Bailey feared Patton would break if he applied any more pressure. Which was untrue, of course. Patton could handle a lot more than his soft appearance gave him credit for.

Bailey put his hands on Patton’s hips. His movements weren’t forceful. Quite the opposite actually; they seemed rather timid. Like he was asking for permission. Patton didn’t turn him down. In fact, he pulled him closer, much to the dismay of the moral corner in his head.

Apparently, Bailey took this as a good sign to keep going because he deepened the kiss. He lowered his hands to Patton’s thighs to lift him up onto the wall.

This caught Patton by surprise. To put it politely, he was never the receiving player in any of the games he engaged in. Though the part of him that was very drunk didn’t mind the turn of events. His husband wasn’t a fan of stuff like this, so they rarely ever did anything passed kissing -- even more so now that they had the twins. It was a rather relieving change to most of him. That annoying corner wouldn’t stop screaming.

Bailey’s hands started roaming and Patton did nothing but bring him even closer. It was turning into a heated make-out session faster than either of them anticipated. Bailey started trailing kisses down to Patton’s neck, searching for that spot that made him take a sharp breath. After teasing and leaving Patton breathless, Bailey slammed their lips back together.

This was what Patton had been secretly wanting for so long. Physical affection is something he thrived under, though he’d rather die before admitting that those needs weren’t always met with his husband. His loving husband. Who loved him very much. A man who loved him enough to push away his own thoughts on weddings just so Patton could have the one he always dreamed of.

Logan.

Oh God, wait.

Those weren’t Logan’s lips. Those weren’t Logan’s hands. That wasn’t Logan’s body trying to get as close as he could. This wasn’t Logan. This wasn’t Logan. This wasn’t Logan. This wasn’t Logan.

Patton’s eyes snapped open and he pushed Bailey away. Then he saw Thomas.

Thomas stood at the open doorway, staring right at Patton. He was frozen to the spot. He looked both horrified and shocked at what must have been a rather compromising scene in front of him.

Oh no.

Patton jumped down from the wall. He muttered an apology to Bailey as he shouldered passed him to run toward his brother-in-law. He grabbed Thomas by the arm and started dragging him back inside the house so they could leave. 

Though not before Thomas glanced back at Bailey one last time.

Patton didn’t say anything on the walk to the car. He didn’t say anything when the engine started. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. Thomas had to be the first one to speak.

“Patton,” it was like a taut rubber band, “I... I honestly don’t know how to even begin. What, what was that? What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Patton muttered.

“You don’t know?” Thomas laughed. Bitter and flabbergasted. “That’s a great excuse. Are you gonna say that to Logan? ‘Oh, I don’t know, honey, I just started making out with my co-worker. Oops. My bad.’“ He glanced at Patton. “Are you gonna tell him at all?”

“No.”

“What? Patton!” Thomas slammed on the brakes. There weren’t any other cars around. “You can’t just keep something like that from him. Don’t you think he deserves to know?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Patton was surprised that those words left his lips at all.

So was Thomas. He stared at Patton in disbelief. His eyes scanned the other’s face as if he couldn’t believe that the same person who cried at humane society ads was still sitting next to him. “Are you serious?”

Patton had to look out the window to avoid Thomas’s gaze. He was too drunk for this. “I-I don’t know.”

“You have to say more than ‘I don’t know’, Patton.” Thomas was pissed. It took a lot to make Thomas angry -- even more to make him pissed -- yet Patton succeeded. “You need to answer me and you need to do it now.”

“I’m sorry --” Patton felt tears coming on.

“You’re sorry? Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Patton. Sorry isn’t going to take anything back. You can’t expect sorry to wipe away what you’ve done.”

He shouldn’t have expected any sympathy. Logan was Thomas’s baby brother, after all. “I don’t.” There was a lump in the back of his throat. It started burning. “I can’t tell him, Thomas, please you have to understand.”

“Why the hell not? You messed up, Patton, he deserves to know.”

“That’s why I can’t!” Patton didn’t care that the tears started coming out -- that wasn’t his main concern. Thomas was pissed at him over a stupid mistake. That’s all it was. It was a stupid mistake. “I messed up. I ruined his trust. I had all the opportunities to stop but I didn’t. I just...” I wanted it. “Oh, God, what did I do?” He covered his face with his hands.

Thomas didn’t say anything for a moment. There was anger flowing off of him in ways it never had before. “I’m going to call Logan --”

“No! Wait! Please.” Patton grabbed Thomas’s arm to stop him from reaching his phone. “I’ll tell him, I swear I will, I just need time.” Now he was a sobbing mess. “Please just give me time.”

The anger began melting off of Thomas’s face, though he still seemed upset. “Let’s get you home,” he sighed.

~~~

Thomas took off the moment Patton was out of his car. Under normal circumstances, he would have waited for Patton to make it safely in the house, but the events of the night seemed like an exception to this. Patton couldn’t even argue with that.

He stumbled his way to the door and dropped his keys a few times before he made it inside. The stupid door got stuck when he tried to close it, making him push on it in order to get it into the frame. The loud shudder made him cringe.

“Patton?”

Patton jumped and spun around. On the couch was Logan. He was rubbing his eyes as if he just woke up -- which he probably had, judging by the state of his, well, everything. One of the TV trays was in front of him with a messy stack of papers. Papers were a bit everywhere in general. He was always messy when he graded tests.

“L-Lo? What, what are you doing here?” Patton dropped his keys into the basket. “Why aren’t you in bed? Or in your office?”

“I didn’t know when you would be back.” He yawned. “You said you would be out for a while, but it didn’t feel right trying to go to bed without you when you might be expecting me.”

There was a pang in Patton’s heart, but he ignored it and brought out a smile. “I wouldn’t have minded, Lo-Lo. If you’re tired, you’re tired.”

“Redundant.” He stood up and stretched. “I assume you drank an unnecessary amount?”

“Why would you assume that?”

Logan raised a brow. A brief image of Bailey flashed in his mind. “You tend to shorten my name when you’re drunk.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Guess I’m a bit easy to read, huh?” That might not have been the best thing to say when lying to your husband’s face.

“Well, I hope you didn’t do anything stupid.”

Patton managed to keep the grin from falling off.

Logan walked up to him to give him a peck on the lips. “You taste like alcohol,” he mumbled as he put his head on Patton’s shoulder. Sleepy Logan was always more affectionate than awake Logan. “I don’t like it.”

Patton wrapped his arms around Logan’s smaller frame and held him close. He wanted to cry again. What was he thinking? Bailey couldn’t hold a candle to Logan. Logan was precious to him. He was smart and dorky and tiny and sweet. There were so many little things that Patton loved -- like the way he pouted when he got something wrong, or how flustered he got when he was forced to ask for help reaching the top shelf. Bailey wasn’t worth it at all.

“Luckily, I’m never drinking again.”

[Part Two]

[rosesisupposes]

Epilogue: Lay Us Down

Part 12 of Another Goddamn Hero Story

read on ao3

Chapter Pairings: Romantic LAMP; Familial LAMPT; Background Remceit; Background OC F/F pairing;

Chapter Warnings: feelings of betrayal & guilt; mention of human experimentation aftermath; unwise cooking practices; michael jackson lyrics; unrelenting Momming; Ewwww My Moms Are Flirting; jk we love it; this one’s mostly fluff, y’all; love you

Taglist: @residentanchor @royally-anxious@bewarethegrammarpolice   @jemthebookworm@arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse@thelowlysatsuma @monsterinatophat @turtally-pawsome @um-yes-hi-hello @idkaurl @potestessemagishomosexualitatis@hawthornshadow

a/n:  I'm absolutely gonna cry saying goodbye to this story. Thank you to everyone who's read and followed over the past year and a bit! My life has changed in so many dramatic ways over that time but thanks to y'all, I never lost the motivation to finish this.

~~~~~~~~~

“Stop!”

“Get him!”

“Don’t let’im get away!”

A blow hit Virgil in the back and he let himself be knocked to the ground. He twisted his head to look up at his attacker with a grin.

“Oh no, you got me!”

Quil smiled in triumph as the other children caught up with them both. “That’s right! We did it! We caught you!” Their curls fanned out around their head as they bounced up and down on his chest. If he wasn’t so durable, it might have been painful, but then, that was why he was the kids’ favorite playmate.

“What will you do now that you’ve caught me?” he asked, trying to look less amused and more intimidated by the group of children circled around him.

They all looked confused for a moment, then one little boy shouted, “Piggybacks!”

“Piggybacks!” the others agreed.

“I have to be able to stand up to give piggybacks,” Virgil pointed out from where he was still lying prone, Quil and others sitting on top of him.

One of them giggled. “We trapped you! Can’t get away!”

“Is that a challenge?” he asked with his best Roman-Is-Offended gasp. He lifted himself into the air, bringing children as he went, until he was floating in midair with three kids balanced on his back.

The rest of the group cheered, clapping and egging him on.

“Guess you three are first up for piggybacks! Are you ready? Hold on tight!” He never flew fast while carrying them, but any distance into the air was still a thrill for them. He did a low loop, then gracefully returned to earth.

A line had formed as he flew, and as he let his first passengers off, he knelt to let two more wrap their arms around his neck. He held them in place with his arms and they were off once more.

On the porch, watching, sat Patton with Tatiana and Celeste Skylar. Some of the quieter children sat with them, apart from the raucous cheering and laughter of the group. Patton’s winds were carrying paper airplanes swiftly through the air, the crafts perfectly aerodynamic thanks to Logan’s earlier tutelage.

Patton himself was leaning on Tati’s shoulder, watching the kids and Virgil as he swooped carefully through the air.

He looked around, and suddenly stiffened, sitting up. “Where’s Thomas?!” he asked, a panicked edge to his voice.

“He’s with Roman, honey, remember?” Tatiana said warmly, squeezing Patton’s shoulder lightly. “He’s safe.”

The tension leaked out slowly as Patton sank back into leaning against the woman. “Oh, yeah. I… forgot.”

“It’s okay, sweet pea. You’re worried for him. It’s always too easy to think of what could be goin’ wrong if you’re not there yourself. I’ve been there. It’s okay. It’ll get easier.”

Patton nodded. “I don’t want to coddle him but- but I know he still has nightmares, and flashbacks, and…”

“And Roman’s been getting the same trainin’ as you have from Dr. Picani. He can help too. It’s not just on you, honeycakes,” Tatiana reminded him gently. “You aren’t all that Thomas has now - he has a whole home of people who love him and want to help him recover.”

“Don’t you mean a whole Haven?” Patton asked with a small grin.

“Same thing, aren’t they?” Celeste asked from Tatiana’s other side.

Haven Foster Home had been open for business for almost three months, and was growing steadily. They had sixteen children between the ages of three and twelve living with them currently, and plenty of space to expand. Which was good, because Virgil and his boyfriends had all moved in as they helped with construction and day-to-day operations. And Thomas, of course, had come too. Between the five of them, they were assisting the Skylar women get the home fully operational. And they were a so-far-endless source of entertainment.

Patton hugged Tatiana impulsively. “Thank you, Mrs. Skylar.”

“Pattycakes, what have I told you about callin’ me that?” Tatiana asked with a smile. “Even if you weren’t my son’s partner, you’re family here.”

Patton nodded shyly. “I know, but-”

“We mean it, Pat,” Celeste said seriously. “You have a home here, no matter what happens. Wherever Haven is, you belong. You and Thomas both.”

Patton brushed away a tear. “Thank you, Mrs- Celeste. It feels wrong to call you Mum and Mama like Virgil does, even if-” he shrugged.

“You know what the kiddos call us?” Celeste asked. “Mumma C and Mama T.”

“Those’re so cute,” Patton admitted with a small giggle.

“Just like you, bean,” Tati said, booping Patton’s nose. “And it took Roman all of two seconds to start using them.”

He grinned. “Well if the light of my life uses them, I guess I can too.”

“Did someone say Light of their Life?” Roman asked, coming out onto the porch with Thomas behind him.

“Roro! Tommy!” Patton said happily, standing to hug them both.

“Pat, we’ve only been inside for an hour and a half,” Thomas said, but he was grinning as he hugged his brother tight.

“Which is half an hour longer than I promised Captain Muscles I’d make him be on kiddo-duty,” Roman admitted. “Time for me to take over!”

He strode out into the field, a giant red slide coming to being as he gestured. The children who’d been entertaining themselves by ripping out grass leapt to their feet and ran over.

Virgil threw Roman a two-fingered salute as his boyfriend blew him a kiss. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. It didn’t tire him physically to give the kids rides, but their energy was emotionally draining in its own way.

“Am I too late for one more flight?” a voice asked from behind him.

About to apologetically decline, Virgil turned to face the speaker. A young woman smiled up at him, the volume of her springy red hair making up only about half of the difference in their heights.

“SANDRY! You’re home from school?” Virgil asked with delight, sweeping up his little sister in an enthusiastic hug.

“Couldn’t miss seeing my favorite brother!”

“I notice you didn’t say sibling," Virgil responded, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“That’s right,” Sandry said with a smile. “I’m not starting that argument again. Alex will never let me hear the end of it.”

“That’s because they know they’d lose,” Virgil said with an overly-elegant sniff. “Can they help you set up roof-to-ceiling bookcases? I don’t think so.”

“Always playing the super card, god,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “So rude.”

Virgil ruffled her curly fro. “Hey, I know my strengths. It’s every sib for themself in this family. Especially when the mums keep finding more for me to compete with.”

“And you will be introducing me properly to the boyfs later,” Sandry said. It wasn’t a question. “Lo’s already told me all his embarrassing stories of you but I want to hear them all.”

“I’m getting flashbacks to, hmm, let me see, every single year growing up with you competitive little gremlins,” Virgil groaned. “I can’t get a break.”

“Your fault, you’re the greedy one who brought home three men and a new brother. I feel threatened. Truly. I do.” She tweaked his nose with an impish grin. “Now where’s my piggyback ride?”

Virgil stuck his tongue out at her. “You’re only three months from graduating college, aren’t you a bit old?”

“Virgeeyyyyyyy,” she whined, poking him in the cheek with obnoxious delight, punctuating each poke with a nickname. “Virgey. Virgey. Virge. Vee. Vee-man. Virgil. Virgey. Virge.”

“Fineeee,” he groaned, turning so she could wrap her arms about his neck. His huge smile betrayed his feigned irritation, though, and the minute she was secure, they were off, flying much faster than he every took the little ones.

“WHOOO!” she cheered in his ear as he flew them into a loop-de-loop, arcing over the house and field. “Hey, hey Virge! Do a barrel roll!” she said in her best Starfox impression. Virgil grinned and spun them into a tight spin, holding her legs secure as she whooped in exhilaration.

He finally landed and let her slide off, breathless. “Mum, why didn’t you warn me there was an invasion of little sisters?”

Celeste looked up from a game of tic-tac-toe in the dirt with a six-year-old. “She swore me to secrecy, V. I couldn’t betray her.”

“Also I promised to help arrange furniture,” Sandry added, fluffing her hair back to a normal shape after the wind’s free blowout.

“For someone who plans on law school, you’re too good at coercion,” Virgil grumbled, messing up her hair again just for the fun of it.

“Technically, this was bribery,” she responded with a wink. “See you at dinner!”

Tatiana passed her coming out the door, kissing her daughter’s cheek as she passed. “Oh, I just love it when my babies are home together. Virgey, don’t forget, Jacques and Liv are coming over for Sunday dinner this weekend, too, so make sure your boys don’t have any plans!’

“Yes, Mama,” Virgil said. He checked his phone, and walked over to where Roman was still supervising the kids on their glowing playset.

“Hey, you,” he said, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist from behind.

“Hello there, Purple Gay-ze,” Roman replied, squeezing the muscled arms wrapped around him.

“Do you know where Lo is?”

Roman pouted. “What, I’m not enough?”

Virgil smiled and kissed his cheek. “Why do I have three boyfriends if I don’t get to want them all at once? No, I just wanted to check in on him. I haven’t seen him all morning, and he’s doing the not-responding-to-texts thing again.”

Roman nodded at house behind them. “Last I saw, he’s up there.”

“Again? Why’s the only one who can’t fly the one spending all his time on the roof?”

Roman shrugged, mouth twisting into a worried line. “I’m still learning his signals but… I think he wanted to be alone.”

Virgil hugged Roman around the shoulders briefly, then stepped up into the air. “First rule of Logan: what he wants and what’s going to make him happier are not always the same thing. I’ll go check on him.” He waved to the kids and flew up to the roof.

At first, it seemed empty. The chairs were unoccupied, and the trampoline was still. The cupola, an idea Virgil stole from City Hall, was empty too, its door to the inside shut for once. About to search somewhere else, Virgil suddenly noticed a flash of blue behind the chimney.

Logan was sitting on the ground, feet planted, arms hugging his legs. He stared off into empty air, fiddling with his black-and-white goggles.

Virgil approached slowly and sank down gently next to him with a murmured, “Hey.”

Logan jumped slightly, almost falling on his side before he realized who it was. “Oh. Hi.”

Virgil tentatively touched Logan’s shoulder, only for him to lean in to the touch immediately. Virgil wrapped his arms around the smaller man, letting him get so close he was practically in his lap.

“I won’t ask if you’re okay, because I know this has been all sorts of terrible for you, but - do you want to want to talk about it, or do you just want comfort?”

Logan shrugged and nestled his face further into the space where Virgil’s neck met his shoulder. Virgil squeezed his arms around him firmly carded his fingers through his hair in a soothing, repetitive way.

A mumbled rumbled into his shoulder. “What was that, love?”

Logan lifted his face, a little pink from the pet name. “I just. With Tommy and Pat, even Ro, even you - you all have had so many more struggles and heartache. I feel selfish for feeling this bad about it when I wasn’t even hurt.”

“First off, emotional hurt counts just as much as anything else, so jot that down,” Virgil said with a slight smile. Then his expression shifted back to serious. “But Lo, really- you’re allowed to be hurt and feel bad, even if others are too. I’m not going to run out of sympathy or patience. Neither are they.”

“I know that, intellectually. And yet, I feel guilty.”

“That’s okay. It really is. And I think it’ll help if you can talk it out.”

Logan sighed, withdrawing from Virgil’s hold, but still leaning against him.

“I still feel responsible. Even if I wasn’t the one who actually did this to Thomas, my work, my research was involved. I helped my par- I helped the project progress and escalate, even if I didn’t know what it was progressing to. And if Thomas resented me for my part in it, I wouldn’t blame him.”

“But he doesn’t,” Virgil said softly.

“I wish he did. No one blames me. Not Joan, not Talyn, not any of you.”

“Because we love you and know it wasn’t your fault.”

“But that’s just it!” Logan said, sitting up fully. He threw his goggles in frustration, and they cracked on the brick wall as they collided. His grey eyes blazed, all the brighter with no lenses currently blocking them. “You all know me and assume the best. If the public knew my full involvement, they’d hate me, and they’d be right to. Instead, I get off scot-free, known only as the star witness of the trial, while all the hate gets directed at my parents.” His voice broke on the last word as his head fell forwards into his hands. Virgil rubbed his back soothingly, seeing Logan’s shoulders shake with silent, suppressed sobs.

“You miss them,” Virgil murmured.

“I know they did terrible, unethical things, they hurt our brother and countless others, and they perverted my research and life’s work and yet I still miss them so much. Bea and Jem are barely speaking to me, and I know they both say they don’t blame me, but I can tell that they do. I haven’t been able to visit them at our cousin’s house yet because I can feel the betrayal. I broke my family, Vee.”

“Your parents broke it,” Virgil said fiercely. “They made a choice, and now they’re facing the consequences. That’s not on you.”

“But the fact remains that the Lancaster family is broken, and the rest of the family would rather blame me than them, because that way they don’t have to admit that our parents did something like this all on their own. And I… I get it,” he said, deflated.

Virgil stayed silent, but kept rubbing small circles on Logan’s lower back, waiting for him to continue when he was ready.

“Parents are… they’re larger than life. Especially mine,” Logan said, with a wet chuckle. “Two brilliant doctors, one a literal superhero. And she wasn’t just any superhero, she was the face of them all, the one in all the PR spots. We grew up with a mom who was on our TV and in our PSAs at school. She was the most anticipated guest lecturer at HEARTS. I grew up in awe of her, surrounded by a city who was in awe of her too.” Logan paused, looking out into the distance again. “I always knew deep down that she was human, of course, but until now, I never saw any flaws myself. And I feel like I should have. Dad, too, except - people always used to tell me how much I look like him. How much I take after him. And now they’ll see my face and see our generation’s fucking Armageddon.”

“Lo, I know this is hard, but exaggeration won’t help. They’re not Armageddon villain-level. They didn’t flatten the city or threaten the entire world.”

“They may as well have,” Logan replied, voice tight with anger. “They could have, if we hadn’t stopped them. If Thomas hadn’t escaped when he did, they would have kept going.”

“Don’t torture yourself with what-ifs and could-haves, starlight.”

“...are you quoting Mum?”

“Mama, actually.”

Logan cracked a smile at that, but it flitted away again like the sun on a cloudy day. “I feel like the world’s gone wonky,” he admitted. “If I was so wrong about them, what else have I misjudged?”

Virgil looked meaningfully behind them, where they could dimly hear the happy shouts of the kids as Roman and Patton led them in a sing-a-long.

Logan sighed. “I mean, yeah, that’s it, isn’t it. The one thing I thought I knew for sure, as certain as my power or gravity, was that the world had heroes, and everyone who could be one and chose not to be was a villain. And my parents were heroes. Now all that’s gone, and I don’t know where that leaves me.”

Virgil nodded sympathetically. “You’re lost, Lo. But it’s okay.”

“How can you know that? What if I can’t find myself again?” His voice was small and hesitant, and Virgil immediately pulled him into his arms.

“Because I was lost once too. And you were the one who found me. And thanks to you, and our boys, and this whole big new family - life sucks less now. You’ll figure it out, Lo. You’re the smartest person I know, the most brilliant star in my sky. And I’ll support you in any way I can.”

Logan looked up into Virgil’s face. That wonderful man started back, his face so frank and open that Logan couldn’t help but believe him entirely. He blinked back tears, smiling shakily. “I love you, Virgil.”

“I love you too, Logan. More than words or sound.” They held each other tightly for a moment, then Virgil let go, standing. “Now c’mon. You have other boyfriends to love and be loved by. And the moms want taste-testers.”

“I’m not particularly hungry-” Logan started, but Virgil interrupted.

“They’re trying a new recipe for jelly thumbprints. And one of the new flavors is blackberry-pomegranate Crofter’s.”

Logan immediately was on his feet. “Well, can’t keep the moms waiting, better go!” He sped away, running down the outside of the building rather than wasting time by taking the stairs. Virgil laughed as he flew behind him.

As he flew to the yard and landed, Patton smiled up at him from where he was lying with his head in Roman’s lap.

“Hey there, big guy. Was that blur our boyfriend on his way to get spoiled?”

“You know it. Pretty sure his first time breaking the sound barrier was because of a Crofter’s sale. This was so worth it, even if I did have to promise Mama I’d do more construction as a trade for the extra baking.”

Roman smiled, his fingers tangled in Patton’s curls. “You big fellas and your big hearts. Lookin’ all tough, but you’re the softest possible touch.”

“What can I say, my boyfriends are my one weak spot. Or, you know, my three weak spots,” Virgil said with a smile, sitting so that Patton could sprawl his legs over him. He kissed Roman’s temple and rubbed Patton’s calf with a warm hand.

“Hm, and are we your only weak spots?” Patton asked, eyes dancing with mischief as he sat up between the two men. “What about here?” He poked Virgil in the side, wriggling his fingers as he did so.

A laugh bubbled out of Virgil’s mouth before he clapped his hand over it with a mock-glare. “Oh no you don’t.”

“I’m sure a big, strong man like you can’t be disarmed with some petty little tickles,” Roman purred, reaching an arm around to his other side.

“Fuck you!” Virgil gasped, giggling, but he was surrounded, his boyfriends on either side tickling him mercilessly. They trusted him not to lash out, not to hurt them even accidentally, and that warmed Virgil just as much as their affection. When it became too much, he laughed aloud and lifted them onto his shoulders, one on each.

Patton whooped at the sudden elevation, twining his fingers around Virgil’s where he gripped his thigh. Roman just posed, reclining elegantly and winking at the muscled man he had the good fortune to be dating.

“Oh darling, you’re so smooth, always ready to sweep us off our feet,” Roman drawled.

“Nice one, Roro,” Patton giggled.

Virgil grinned up at his boys. “What can I say? This is the closet I can get to putting you both on the pedestals you deserve.”

“VIRGIL!” a voice suddenly shouted from inside. It was immediately followed by a blur that crashed through the door and resolved back into Logan. His face was flushed, his hair askew, and there was a smear of jam on his mouth still.

Roman and Patton both immediately lifted themselves up and off of Virgil’s shoulders as the big hero ran to Logan’s side.

“Lo, what is it? Are you okay? Are the kids okay?”

“Yes, they’re great, everything’s great, I have just made the best discovery!” Logan said, words spilling out in a rush. “Tommy! Are you coming?”

Sure enough, Thomas was emerging from the door in Logan’s wake, walking at a normal human pace. He carried a jelly jar with a spoon stuck in, though he’d been slightly more successful in cleaning his mouth than Logan had.

“Are you alright, Thomathy?” Patton asked, brow knitting slightly.

His brother smiled up at him, glowing in a tentative way. “I’m great, Pat. Logan - you should explain, I don’t know that I fully understand it-”

Logan nodded eagerly. “My dears, it’s wonderful- we discovered another power of Thomas’. Something new. We were both so excited to try the Mums’ cookies, and I was moving fast to help, and without extra effort, I started getting faster and faster. I was barely even aware at the time! And I could still control it, it was just easier. I- knowing what we know now, about Thomas’ origins, I think I know what his true power is. The same way he can spread emotions that paralyze, he can spread emotions that amplify. He’s not just a human dampening-field- he’s an enhancer!”

Roman frowned. “Sorry, my dearest nerd, I don’t think I follow?” He summoned a handkerchief and handed it to Virgil, who wiped Logan’s face free of jelly as he continued to explain animatedly, barely aware of Virgil’s movements.

“Our emotions are tied to our powers, right? The first time we used them, it had to be through a certain feeling, and then over time we could trigger them through experience. And we know Thomas could shut them down the same way, by triggering the antithetical feelings, or even a complete absence. But, he can send out positivity, too! And excitement, and elation, all the normal discovery-emotions. He’s like a rainbow cloud full of mood-enhancers! A human embodiment of an SSRI!”

Thomas smiled at them all, and the extra years of stress seemed to fall away, leaving him looking like an actual teen again. “I think I can be a teammate now, not just another person on the attack. I can help. In training, in learning- Ro, I think I can even help you on grey days.”

Roman stared in shock. “Really?”

“I hope so, at least. I want to make up for what I’ve done. I think this could be how I do that.”

Virgil clasped Thomas’ shoulder. “Remember, though, you don’t have to, Tommy. You don’t owe the rest of us anything, not if you don’t want to give it. You don’t have to become a professional hero.”

Thomas nodded. “I know. But… I do want to. Maybe not constantly, not all the time, but I want to help.”

Patton seized his brother in a hug. “And you will, Thomathy. And we’ll be there to help you, no matter what.”

“Promise?” Thomas’ voice was small as he looked over Patton’s shoulder at the other three.

Roman was the first to wrap his arms around both the Sanders, but Logan soon did the same, and Virgil rounded out the group hug, resting his face in Patton’s curls.

“We promise, Tommy,” Roman murmured. “Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes,” Logan echoed.

“Whatever it takes,” Virgil promised.

If a tear or five happened to roll down their cheeks, well. Nothing to be ashamed of. They were all family, after all.

~~~~~~

>>D.R.E.A.M. Index

     >>User Mode: Administrator

>>Update Impact: Global

     >>Update Field1: Classification

           >>Update Type: Criteria

     >>Update Field2: Affiliation

          >>Update Type: Delete

     >>Update Field3: Threat Status

           >>Update Type: Created

>>Description: Overhaul of the classification system with respect to ‘affiliations’. New guidelines for entry:

     A - formerly ‘Hero’ - now defined as a registered H.A.T.C.H. participant, willing to use their powers to respond to threats and attacks

     M - formerly ‘Neutral’ - now defined as “Not a foreseeable threat”

     Z - formerly ‘Villain’ - now defined as “Foreseeable threat”

>>Justification/Note: If we’ve learned anything from the past year, it’s that forcing us all to pick sides does more harm than good. Fighting isn’t what makes a hero. - Joan and Talyn

~~~~~~

D.R.E.A.M. Index #337501 [UPDATED]

Classification: M.1.ii [Primary Tier, No Threat, Acquired Powers]

Name: The Understudy

Status: INACTIVE

/////////Reason: Enrolled

Civilian Name: [CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Thomas Sanders

Threat Status: No Foreseeable Threat

/////////H.A.T.C.H. Status: Blackout

Partners/Sidekicks: DI#A-4894 - Team Left Brain; DI#A-4895 - Team Right Brain;

Primary Foes: N/A

Powers: Pathokinesis - Broad Spectrum; Illusions - Broad Spectrum;

/////////Specialty: Assistance and Enhancement;

Costume: Black t-shirt with rainbow flowers, jeans

Age: 19

Height: 5’10”

Pronouns: He/Him

H.E.A.R.T.S. Class: Enrolled

Note: Brother of DI#337437 - Gale Force; Powers created through Project Charcoal, see IR19-Z-0001;  

~~~~~~

It was a normal afternoon at Haven, which is not at all to say quiet. Virgil and Thomas were on chaperone duty, with Sandry lending a hand, and they’d brought the children to the upstairs play rooms so the other adults could get a break.

Logan and Patton had volunteered to cook that night’s family dinner. It was their first time doing so together, as Virgil and Roman had carefully made sure an actually-experienced cook had been involved each time previously. But the two shared a stubborn streak, and had insisted that they’d be fine.

Celeste wasn’t supervising, per se. That would be implying she didn’t trust them. She just happened to be sitting at the bar between the living room and kitchen. In theory, she was reading a young adult novel that one of the kiddos had brought home from the library for their monthly mixed-ages book club. In reality, her eyes spent about twice as much time watching the boys in the kitchen as on the page.

Patton had never learned to cook growing up, and Roman had been the cook of their little home. Logan had been spoiled by home-cooked meals his entire childhood and now had his own method of ‘carry out’ which was actually ‘run over to the next state because they have much better pho than the place across the street.’ They’d mutually decided on Breakfast For Dinner. That was the last thing they’d both been sure about.

“Should eggs be this runny? Do I need use the whipper more?”

“I think it’s a whisker.”  

“Well that can’t be right. I don’t care how I look, I’m a Patton, not a Cat ton!” he said with a giggle, pulling the cat-ear hood of his sweatshirt over his curls.

Logan groaned fondly and turned to kiss Pat on the cheek, which turned into several more. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that he was frying bacon at the same time. He whirled back as the smell of burnt fat started to rise from the pan.

Logan blushed. “Whoops. Um, crunchy bacon is a thing people like, right?”

“That’s how I like it,” Celeste commented from the bar with a smile. “I used to like it chewy, but Tati showed me the light. Or, dark, in this case. Insert ‘once you go black’ joke here,” she added with a wink, gesturing vaguely.

Logan chuckled and grabbed tongs, salvaging what bacon he could. “Well, this is edible at least. Let’s get started on the pancake batter, yeah?”

“Batter’s up!” Patton chortled, and went to get a mixing bowl.

Celeste sighed fondly and stood to answer a knock at the door. As she did so, she blew a kiss to Tatiana where she was sitting with Roman in the living room.

“So, I was thinking this weekend’s big Outdoor Activity could be Treasure Island!” Roman said excitedly.

“Oh, that’s a new one! What’s that?” Tati asked. She had planner open on her lap that was stuffed full with tabs and notes.

“So it’s like capture the flag, but with four teams, and you need a treasure from each team to win,” Roman explained. “So I can make, like, crowns for one team, and coins for another, and gems for a third-”

“Or, we can just buy some more play equipment that we know we’ll re-use,” Tatiana interrupted, smiling. “I don’t want you to push yourself too much, honey.”

Roman blushed. “Oh, yeah. We can buy things.”

“Don’t forget, that means things for you, too, okay? If there’s anything you need, we’ve got you covered.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“Roman,” Tatiana said with a warning tone, but she was smiling. “What have I said about you being an imposition?”

“That I’m not one,” Roman recited.

“And you never could be, sweet pea.” She patted his cheek fondly. “Now, tell me more about Treasure Island. There’s no permanent outs, right? We know the little ones don’t do well with those.”

Celeste came back and smiled at the two of them as she slipped back into the kitchen. Pancake batter had gotten on the bowl, spoon, the counter, Patton’s brand new cat hoodie, and Logan’s glasses, but not yet on the walls or the floor, so Celeste reasoned it was going about as well as could be expected.

“The recipe book says it should be smooth,” Logan said, looking with despair at the lumps in the mixture. “I am fairly certain there is no world in which this is smooth.”

“Ooh, let me try,” Patton said. He took the bowl with a grin. “Maybe we just need to encourage it!”

“I fail to see how that will-”

“C’mon, pancakes! C’mon Pannie!” He suddenly grinned. “Pannie, are you okay? Are you okay, Pannie?” the man started to sing. “You’ve been hit by-” he tapped on the side of the bowl, “You’ve been struck by-”

“Please no-” Logan tried to interrupt.

“A smooth criminal!” Patton finished with a flourish, pointing at himself with the spoon. Unfortunately, it still had batter on it, flicking even more on them both.

Celeste took that as her cute to intervene. “Okay, Patty-pan-cakes, maybe less MJ and more Ramsay, okay?”

Patton looked over, still grinning. “Okay, Mumma C.”

“Maybe you should go clean up and let Lo try in the meantime?”

Patton nodded and handed Logan the bowl back, kissing a bit of flour off his cheek as he did so.

Logan took the bowl, but paused. “Ah, Mum, would you mind giving me a hand? I believe I may be a bit lost here.”

She smiled. “Of course.” She helped him add more milk until the batter was smooth but not runny, and got a clean pan up to the right heat.

“So you’ll want to add a bit more oil in between so they don’t stick, does that make sense?”

“Oh, it’s like resetting to stasis for a new experiment run!”

“If that’s what makes sense to you, sure!”

A sound echoed down the hall. “I’ll be right back. I believe in you, Lo!”

Logan got to work, brow furrowed in concentration, barely aware of the batter and flour smutches on his face and glasses. He could hear Tatiana and Roman laughing in the living room, and the muffled shouts and bumps from upstairs.

He’d promised the kids pancakes. And pancakes they would have, dammit.

Celeste wandered back down the hallway to the living room, fiddling with her pride flag bracelet. “Tati, honey, I think I’m hallucinating,” she complained. “I could have sworn I heard a knock, but no one was there. Were we expecting any more arrivals today?”

Tatiana stood, looping an arm casually around her wife’s waist as she checked the detailed calendar on the living room wall. “Hm. No planned dropoffs, but it has been picking up as word spreads. But I thought I heard something too. Maybe it’s Virgey? He’s upstairs with Sandry and Tommy and the kiddos.”

Celeste leaned her chin on Tatiana’s shoulder. “That’s probably it. Hey, have I told you recently that you’re gorgeous? And also incredibly organized, and so amazing at keeping track of details? And that this place would never have become so wonderful without you?”

Tatiana blushed so hard, her brown cheeks practically glowed. “Ceecee! Stopp!”

“How can I stop when you’re just so cute?” She took advantage of her wife’s attempt to hide her face by kissing her fingers and cheeks while Roman laughed in the background.

Another knock sounded under the chatter. Patton, coming back from the bathroom, turned into the hallway to answer it.

This time, there was definitely someone there.

“Pat?” came the shocked gasp from the doorway.

Patton stared, jaw hanging open. “Damon?”

There were far fewer scales than when he’d last seen him, a sign he hadn’t had to use his power recently. And right behind him, staring back over their dark glasses, was an equally-shocked Remy.

Patton started in silence for half a moment, then stepped back, pulling the door with him. “Come on in, you two. Uh, assuming you wanted to, that is.”

The couple nodded and stepped in cautiously. Damon looked around warily, holding his partner’s hand tight. Remy might have been surveying the cozy entrance hallway with similar trepidation, but the lack of irises always made it difficult to tell.

“I… didn’t expect to see you ever again,” Patton admitted. “I thought you’d left town and the state. Or I assumed? I’m a bit fuzzy on when or how exactly you left. I just remember seeing you.”

“Ah, that’ll be my fault, sorry babes,” Rem said, giving a slight bow without letting go of their boyfriend’s hand. They held themself in the bow so they could look up over their glasses to wink at Patton.

Damon reached out hesitantly to touch Patton’s shoulder, and relaxed a bit. “I gotta say, I didn’t expect to see you here either. Or anywhere. I thought…” he took a breath. “Last we heard, you were volunteering to fight the thing that… Valerie.”

Patton’s face fell. “Oh. I- fuck, it’s been a really long couple of months, Dam’. There’s so much to tell you.” He bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth, not sure how to begin.

At that moment, Tatiana came around the corner.

“Oh, Patty! I thought I heard voices. Do we have new guests?” She looked over the pair. “Or are they friends of yours?”

Patton took a breath. “They’re friends. I- actually, how did you two come to be here?”

Damon flushed under his golden skin. “I heard there was a new foster home and I had to see it, at least. And then I kept losing my nerve when we knocked and had Remy blank the woman who answered.”

Tatiana laughed. “Oh, so you’re to blame for my wife’s confusion! And hear I was ready to start making senior citizen jokes. Welcome, then! Any friends of Patton’s are practically family. I’m Tatiana Skylar, my wife Celeste and I run things here at Haven. And you two are supers as well, or just Blank Space over there?”

Remy grinned “Oh hun, can I steal that one? Yeah, we’re both supes. Dam’ here has like, restraint, though.”

Damon smiled up at them, then turned to Tatiana. “Trust them to not actually introduce us. This tall string of sass is Mx. Remy Dormions, also known as an absolute headache and, sadly, the love of my life.” Remy chuckled and just preened as their boyfriend continued, “And I’m Damon McLeggan. Pat and I, uh, grew up together for a bit.”

Tati smiled even wider, her white teeth flashing against her plum lipstick. “So you are family! Wonderful!”

Damon had all of one second of warning before he found himself wrapped a welcoming hug. Tatiana turned to Remy to give them the same treatment, and saw them grimacing awkwardly. “Sorry, I know I’m too long to hug normall- oof!”

They found their middle wrapped by warm brown arms, Tati’s head angled so that their neck didn’t need to stretch awkwardly around hers.

“Honey, don’t even worry, I’ve got all the practice in the world of Tall Hugs,” she said with a smiled as she withdrew. “You should meet my son!”

Patton raised an eyebrow at Remy. “Actually, they have. Last I saw, they were flirting with him dramatically.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Damon and Remy said in unison.

“They were flirting dramatically while being arrested,” Patton clarified.

Remy’s glasses slid down their nose. “Oh worm? Wait, who’s mom is she, Specs or Flex?”

“Both,” Tatiana said proudly. “Come in, you two, come sit. Dinner’s going to be awhile still, but the smoke has gone down, at least. Hope you like extra-crispy bacon!”

Damon hesitated, but Patton grabbed his arm and tugged him down the hallway to the living room.

“Patty-my-dear, who’ve you brought us?” Celeste asked.

“Mumma Cee, this is Damon and Remy. Dam’ was at the old home with me, and Remy’s his partner. And they apologize for making you forget they were there, right?”

Remy grinned. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Mostly. But I can’t promise I won’t do it again.” Damon elbowed them. “Ow! My own boyfriend, my darling, attacking me in front of new people, how dare.”

Celeste looked utterly charmed. “Please, come sit, here, take the long-legs chair.” She and Remy launched into gossip about powers and their partners with equal enthusiasm.

Damon tugged Pat’s sleeve. “Pat, you’re sure it’s okay we’re here?”

“Of course, everyone’s welcome.”

“Yeah, but. I mean. Villains? Technical fugitives? Multiple times over? We just thought we’d lurk and make sure it didn’t seem sketchy, I didn’t think we’d be invited in. I don’t want the heroes to shut this place down from association.”

Patton brushed a comma of black hair that had fallen in Damon’s face. “Oh, no need to worry about any of that-”

Just then, Logan emerged out of the kitchen, wearing a batter-splattered apron but looking pleased with himself. “Dinner’s ready!”

Remy and Damon whipped around and made eye contact with Logan the same moment he noticed them.

Remy tensed up immediately and grabbed Damon’s hand, but before they could use their powers, Logan was beside them in a blur.

“Rem, no, it’s- you don’t need to, I’m not gonna, it’s fine,” he babbled. “Don’t blank me, okay?”

Remy grimaced. “Lolo, hun, I love a good reunion as much as the next bitch, but this is clearly your house. It’s one thing to tease you when it’s your job to chase me, I’m not gonna invade your space.”

“Remy, Damon, please, no, it’s not like that anymore,” Logan said. He stepped back at a normal speed. “Pat? Can you help me?”

The couple looked confused, staring between Patton and Logan. Celeste and Tatiana stayed quiet, watching the interaction but letting the supers handle it themselves.

Patton grinned tentatively. “So, let’s see, what’s the fastest way to explain. Um. Number 1, you’re not fugitives anymore, because of the Fresh Start Initiative by the mayor’s office. Number 2, you’re not villains, because no one is, not even me ‘n’ Ro. Oh, and number 3, we’re dating,” he finished, waving at Logan.

Remy frowned. “You left the sparkling red beauty for Specs?”

Damon rolled his eyes. “That’s what you got out of that?”

“That’s the part I understood immediately, sue me.”

Logan cleared his throat. “Patton meant, he’s dating Roman and I at the same time. Also Virgil. All four of us.”

“Virgil?” Damon asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Tatiana chuckled behind him. “I’ve been forbidden from using it when he can hear me, but his other nickname is ‘Flex,” she provided. She smiled up at Remy. “I told you I’m used to giving tall hugs!”

Remy settled back into their chair. “Holy shit. Y’all’re dating Flex? I thought he was still pining over Short-Stack over here.”

Logan colored. “How many people knew this besides me?” he muttered to himself.

Patton heard him and grabbed his hand over the back of the couch. “All of us, love. You’re kind of oblivious sometimes.”

Damon was leaning on both his hands, brow creased. “What’s wrong, sugar?” Remy asked.

“I- so much has changed. I’m not sure I get it yet. I didn’t think we’d ever be staying in Harmony City again, not long term.”

“Technically, we’re outside city limits,” Celeste offered. “We’re over the Easthamshire County line. But within the municipal government jurisdiction for taxes and tax break purposes, that was important.”

“You’re jargonin’ again, honey,” Tatiana said, brushing her fingers through Celeste’s bright hair.

Celeste smiled up at her. “What I mean to say is, Damon, Remy, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. We’ve got a whole house full of folks figuring everything out - you’ll be in good company.”

Patton nodded. “And there’s someone else you need to meet, too. Virgil, when he comes down, but, Damon, you should- actually, let me get him now. Uh, Mama T, can we use the sitting room?”

“Of course, sweet pea.”

~~~~~~

Two days later, Damon sat watching the open field behind the house as Remy joined the kiddos in playing Treasure Island. (They were forbidden from using powers because “it’s cheating,” Quil had insisted, and everyone agreed. It turns out that Remy was a terrible thief without their powers, but they were having a grand time all the same).

Thomas sat beside him, and Patton sat on Thomas’ far side. They watched in companionable silence for while, until Damon broke it.

“Thomas, you know I don’t blame you, right? For any of this.”

The boy swallowed hard. “I know you said so.”

“And I meant it. I get it, you know? People always say that, say they understand, but I really do.”

“What do you mean?”

Damon smiled lopsidedly at him. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be an experiment?” He waved his left hand in a faux-salute, the hand that never fully healed from his shape-shifts, the one covered continuously in scales that ached and itched and got covered up when he was around strangers. “The anger, at the one who did this, and at this whole fucking society that could have stopped it and didn’t? The regret when you lash out mixed with a weird satisfaction that at least you finally did something on your own terms for once?”

Thomas softened. “You do know.”

Damon nodded. “So I mean it. I don’t blame you. And I - Lo mentioned what you hope to do. To be a teacher and coach and protect these guys.” He nodded out at the children, from the ones running and falling and shrieking in delight to the ones sitting separately, reading or watching or just dangling from tree branches. “I’m… god, I’ve had years to recover, and you’re been out for what, four months, and already ready to make amends and pay it back?”

Thomas shrugged.

Damon sat quiet for a moment. “Could I help too? I don’t know what I’d do, but… I feel like I have something to make up for, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“I- I was pissed at the world and the city for letting us get pulled into that. But I didn’t try to fix it, I just mentally flipped off the institutions and took all the resources they offered me. And I didn’t- I let her drop out. I kept tabs on her, but she reminded me too much of that place and that time. I didn’t let her talk about it around me, I just refused to listen. I could have made an effort, been a safe person to relate to, but I didn’t. And I know these kids won’t be the same, but maybe it would be a way to make up for it.”

“It’s a start,” Patton commented softly. “This place won’t make everything better but… it’ll mean a world of difference to these kids. We can’t protect them from every possible struggle, but-”

“But we can keep them safe from the ones we faced,” Thomas finished. He grabbed Patton’s hand and squeezed. “I’ll do it, Pat, just you watch,” he said fiercely. “I’ll keep them safe. I promise.”

“I promise too,” Damon said. “For Valerie.”

Patton nodded. “For the Parsons.”

“For us,” Thomas said softly.

They squeezed hands, watching the children of Haven play. The clouds above were turning cotton candy pink as the day wound to a close. Light glazed the home behind them and the graceful branches in front of them, painting everything golden.

The sun was setting on Harmony City.

~~~~~~THE END~~~~~~

[okneiljos]

​reasons the umbrella academy is my new favorite show (and why i have seven new children):

• they are all my actual children with whom i fell in love with instantly like i instantly adopted them the moment they were introduced bc when i saw klaus i was like “uwu i luv” and with allison i was “A WOMAN” with vanya i was “tALENT” and so on

• klaus

• the dance montage in ep 1 was literally one of the most iconic moments i have ever seen in my entire life

• bc luther literally had just accused his entire family of murdering their father and then he goes into his room to his moutain of records and is like “hmm what will possibly mend this? what can bring us closer as a family? what can make this better? what can make me feel better” and the choice of song has me in an early grave bc his solution was to start dancing his problems away and honestly same bc he then does it AGAIN later on

• number five’s badass killing of like 5 grown ass men

• the fact that he is a 60 year old man inside a 13 year old body and i, too, am a teenager with the intellect and soul of a senior citizen

• also the fact that the first thing he does when he gets back is makes himself a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich and that was what vanya made for him when he was away so he wouldn’t come back and be lost :’)

• klaus in the skirt “is that my skirt?” and the fact that klaus’ response to this is “its a little dated...but it airs out the bits” and fives comment on it im gone

• ALL OF KLAUS’ CRACKHEAD MOMENTS I LOVE MY CHILD

• i’m sorry but literally all of his comments sent me

• the run boy run scene was so cinematic holy crap like whoever did the soundtrack and editing did such a good job bc the scenes were cut together so well and the flashbacks and the music went perfectly with the scenes like ???? it was so amazing

• klaus trying to be a Good Big Bro and protec five from the fight between luther and diego and five just slaps his hand away

• the funeral scene where everyone is like “plz stop” and then klaus is like “hIT HIM!” had me gONE and this man showed up with a pink umbrella while everyone else had perfectly reasonable mourning umbrellas

• also klaus’ choice of clothing throughout the entire series will truly haunt me because he is a Disaster Gay™️ if i’ve ever seen one but he’s the best kind like the skirt, those low-rise leather pants with that top PLUS the cardigan like... sweetie

• bEN PLZ DONT GET ME STARTED

• ben could’ve left or gone ANYWHERE BUT HE STAYED WITH KLAUS PLZ IM BOUTA CRY YALL

• the scene where luther and diego are trying to get into the van, like once wasn’t enough but they did that shit AGAIN and looked at each other like -_- and finally luther has the audacity to say “i’m number one” im skdkskdk

• the fact that they fight all the time but the moment one of them are threatened they all bring the thunder and the claws come out and it’s totally on and i’m like wow uwu, like even though they are estranged they really do love each other

• the office scene with five and klaus im DONE WITH MY LIFE “what about my consent”

• during the fight scene in the house klaus is oblivious and is dancing around in a bath towel (with one in his hair as well) and that was so funny to me it got even funnier when ben poked his head in and tried to warn him like “klaus, our whole family is about to be slaughtered, klaus hello, klaus gunfire is raining down, okay whatever” and then he leaves, presumably to watch over them and the intruders and then klaus gets kidnapped but that had me

• the torture scene “there’s nothing like a little strangulation to get the blood flowing” plz klaus i can only handle so much wheezing before my lungs give out

• also “plz make him stop talking” like it was becoming torture for the torturers torturing him im—

• the ice cream truck scene which is made 100000% better bc klaus can’t/doesn’t know how to drive and yet diego is like “GO FASTER!!” and cute lil ben is like “wheeeeee” im so gone for this family man

• the scene with allison and luther in the booth had me in my feels + on the phone how you could hear the “SPACE BOY” that right there was really freaking cute

• diego with the “guns are for sissy’s, real men throw knives!” for some reason this just really stuck with me and like then i realized like that’s his entire brand in life... just knife boi. 

• the entire bowling alley scene was the funniest thing to me skskakskxi “ur two dads” “i’d rather chew off my own foot” “maybe they’re here for kenny’s birthday party”

• diego’s stutter coming back during times of stress really made me so sad and like upset and i wanted to hug him

• vanya’s feelings of sorrow and isolation made me feel so sorry for her and then this dude comes in and uses and takes advantage of her but she shouldn’t have done that to her sis bc they were both like what 7 when their father made allison do that ??

• klaus’ battle for sobriety throughout the entire series he is so strong <3

• klaus’ power up in the last ep akskdjdj yes sweetie you get yours

• ben is literally the biggest bean ever but he also socks klaus in the face bc he’s like “i need u to stop being stoopid for two seconds”

• “shut up... said with love” and the “drop dead.” gasp “low blow” i love their relationship so much it literally meant everything to me bc ben is klaus’ biggest fan and like i cry thinking about that ya kno

• how allison literally diSPATCHED RAPER FACE GUY IN VANYA’S APPARTMENT sis knew something wasn’t right

• hazel literally eating everything in sight identified with me on a spiritual level

• diego and klaus little talk and ride along bc it was just so pure like diego loves his family soooo much even tho sometimes (like luther) he says mean shit he will do whatever is necessary to protect/save them

• klaus sets the table for himself, five, luther, AND ben i’m kdksk crying im crying is what im doing ok im just gonna be in the corner and the others don’t even mention it like ?? kskaak do they not notice it or do they know

• vanya’s badass white suit and violin change at the end there like ICONIC much

• vanya flipping that car, her at the show like im shaken to my core here skakaoso

• five just like five man “i was going to ask what you were doing but then i realized i don’t care.” like he’s such a mood.

• klaus and five are my biggest moods,, the biggest crackhead and the biggest narcissist

• THE ENDING AKSKDIDJSK I NEED MORE GIVE ME MORE OF MY CHILDREN PLZ PLZPLZPzlzzpzlzl

(there is so much more i could say but i wrote this in like 20 minutes off the top of my head if you can think of anything else plz let me know, also i tried to put this in some semblance of order bc when i wrote it it wasn’t ordered at all so sorry if it’s a mess, also sorry about the grammatical errors i know there surely are that i didn’t catch - not including the ones i did on purpose)

[wintersxsoul]

Fire Meets Gasoline (5)

Summary: You leave your city to start over in your best friend’s town, oblivious to the fact that you have an unexpected roommate. What will happen when fire meets gasoline?

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k-ish?

Warnings: None ?

A/N: I was very bored at work this morning so I wrote this. I hope I am explaining everything correctly and if I don’t please let me know so I can do it in the following chapters or whatever. 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 /  Series Masterlist

Weeks and months went by, Loki and you never spoke about what happened, well, you barely spoke at all, so why bring that up?

After Valerie’s date, you met up with her again to explain why you didn’t want anything more than a friendship. She understood the situation and told you that you could be friends, so of course you agreed and after a few months, she became your best friend. Loki kept bringing people at night, different men and women leaving the apartment every morning. To say his night sessions were loud was an understatement, so after a week of him doing that, you had enough, and started doing the same (kicking them out at night, of course). Most of your sex partners complained about what was happening in the room next to yours, but all you did was just trying to be louder than Loki.

You fought more often and he kept going to The Blood Moon to piss you off and to meet his random hook ups. Six months went by without you even realizing, the grief of your old life already healed. October was around the corner, and since it was your favorite month, you convinced your boss to give you your vacations, so you could enjoy the spooky month properly.

From the 1st of October to the 10th, you went back to your hometown to visit your family, staying in with your parents or going out but with them, you were anxious all the time, scared to see everyone you ran away from.

“Val, I’m not sure if I will ever recover from this asshole. I can’t even visit my parents without the fear of seeing him.” You were speaking on the phone with Val, oblivious to the fact that Loki was in the kitchen, trying not to eavesdrop but failing at it.

“Well, never mind. How are you, though?” You asked her without letting her comment anything about Eric.

“I’m good, Rae and I decided to take the next step in our relationship. And omg girl, I got promoted!! Can you believe?” You shouted back excited for your friend matching her own happiness. She met Rae at your bar four months ago and they hit it off immediately.

“I’m so happy for you two girls. The gays are finally having their moment.” You heard Val chuckle and you laughed, feeling genuinely happy for her.

“Well sis, I gotta go, I’m in the middle of my spooky marathon.” Val let out a loud sigh in a joking way.

“You’re a nerd. I love you and enjoy! And please try not to kill Loki!!” You hanged after saying your goodbyes.

You sighed and reached for the remote, but before you could hit play, Loki sat next to you on the couch and looked at you, smiling.

“Can I join you?” You looked at him frowning, trying to catch his intentions, but he seemed to really mean the question.

“Well, it’s your apartment after all, you can do whatever you want to.”

Loki shook his head.

“It is our apartment. Y/n, you...I’m” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

“I wanted to apologize for making you feel rejected when you first came here. I know it wasn’t your fault but...” He shrugged his shoulders and continued his apology. “There’s no one else to blame but me.”

You were looking at him in awe, not truly believing your ears. You blinked, not really knowing what to say.

“Look, it’s fine. I understand you. I would have done the same thing if someone unknown entered my life without permission. I just wish we could’ve had a better start.” You reply sincerely, glad that he started the conversation. He extended his hand for you to shake it, in a peace offering manner.

“Would be nice to start over? What do you say?” He asked, his hand still waiting for yours. You looked at it and then back to his face, a smirk forming on your lips. You shook his hand and nodded.

“Deal. Now, if you want to join me, fine. But we are watching whatever I choose, I’ve got a marathon to do.” He looked at you, curiously. He already knew about the “spooky marathon” since he overheard you speaking to Valerie, but he wanted to know more about it.

“Marathon? Of what?” You smiled and turned your body to his, excitedly, ready to explain your ritual. You clasped your hands together and started explaining, Loki looking at you with wide eyes.

“October is my favorite month, since it’s the spooky month. Every year, I try to watch as many vampire and zombie movies I can.” He nodded, so you continued.

“I’ve seen most of them a lot of times, but I just love them so much.”

Loki was amazed, he thought you were the rom com kind of girl, who loved sappy movies and hated scary shit. But he was wrong. You told him that you’ve always been a huge fan of vampires and zombies, horror films and books.

“So what movie are we watching today?” He asked, a bit terrified with the idea of watching a horror film, since he was the one who hated them.

“Today?” Was he planning to do the marathon with you?

“Yeah, like what is the movie you have planned for today?” Oh, okay. You normally liked to do the marathon alone, no one really understood why you did it or they didn’t even liked the movies you liked, so you just assumed no one wanted to do it.

“Uhmm, I was thinking of 1931 Dracula?” Loki nodded, not even knowing there was such an old version of the movie.

“You want a beer while I look for the movie?” You asked, excited to give him one of your special beers. You really needed new friends, the only one you had was Valerie and you felt lonely. Sure you met a lot of people and hooked up with even more, but it wasn’t the same. You needed and wanted someone to watch movies with, share your daily stories from the bar or just laugh with someone about stupid shit.

“Yes! But let me get them.” He said and stood up, but you stopped him.

“No, no. I have a new beer to try. The movie must be in the shelf next to the TV, why don’t you get it?” Loki went to the shelf and checked all the movies you had trying to find the one you asked for. While he read the titles, he realized almost all the movies you owned were gothic victorian romances, he knew some of them but they were practically unknown for him.

​You came back to the living room and found Loki staring at the shelf, looking through all your movies. You felt embarrassed, they were a very important piece of yourself and having an almost stranger reading all the titles you loved felt weird. You cleared your throat to announce yourself and he turned around. He saw the two bottles you had in your hand and let out a chuckle.

“Are you planning on murdering me and bathing in my blood?” You snorted jokingly and laughed. The beers were tinted in red and the bottles were like the “True Blood” tv show ones, and it looked real as fuck.

“Yeah, you wish. Let’s watch the movie.” You said while plopping down on the couch, followed by him.

Tag list is OPEN

@trashpandabarnes /  @sideeffectsofyou /  @madamefresa / @lilypalmer1987 /  @gravedollie666 /  @sarahivi /  @gummiwormsandonedirection / @deamstellarus /  @zeilenkrieg /  @lokixme /  @unicorn-princess-1999 / @look-to-the-stars-and-wish / @speaknowsparkly / @thatchick147 / @idenythis / @hiddlestoner3059 / @deannaraquel/ @fire-in-her-veinz / @youveseen--thebutcher / @tribbles-have-feelings-too / @godhateskyleigh / @calliope-musings / @carydorse / @buckysblacksheep / @lokislilslut / @memmucci / @mewlingquimj / 

[wildsecuritywolf]

Let’s Meme Along w/Sebastian

Tagged by: @tkoexperimentations

Sebastian: “.....Really?”

[Yes really]

1. What is your name?

Sebastian: “Mi nombre es Sebastian Alejandro Wolf, darling, hmm, hmm..”

2. Do you know why you’re named that?

Sebastian: “My parents wanted their son to have a proud first name and a middle name related to my dad’s old man and...that’s it. What? I don’t feel like going into details so deal with what cha got out of it.”

3. Are you single or taken?

Sebastian: “Right now I’m single...but I do plan to get that cute chubby bunny that I love at work..I want to date him so badly, hmm, hmm~”

[This is referring to the canon FNAF AU of mine. Not gonna add in other shippings that are non canon.]

4. Have any abilities or powers?

Sebastian: “Uh no I don’t..”

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

Sebastian: “Bitch I ain’t no Mary Sue! I’m a man, mother fucker!!”

6. What’s your eye color?

Sebastian: “Both are gold..wanna gaze into my eyes and see? Hmm, hmm~”

7. How about your hair color?

Sebastian: “A luxurious black, darling, hmm, hmm..”

8. Have any family members?

Sebastian: “.........My mom and dad are dead..and I’m glad those assholes are out of my life. I truly hope they’re burning in the fucking deepest pits of hell. They were worthless parents and always will be. ...Though..I do have an uncle. He’s my mom’s big brother...and he wanted to take me away from my parents, since he knew how neglectful they were towards me...said that he and his boyfriend would gladly help raise me. ...Too bad that didn’t happen..but at least now that I got my own place..he and his now pronounced husband come visit me on the weekends...so..at least that’s comforting for me..”

9. Oh? How about pets?

Sebastian: “I own a black and white Husky! He goes by Balto, and boy do I love my big tough man, hmm, hmm~”

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?

Sebastian: “Where do I begin? First of all, I fucking hate eating veggies and Nico is trying to get me to eat them..ugh. Second, I despise the rich assholes with a fiery passion. Third, if some ugly ass chick tries to make a move on my cute chubby boy they’re gonna end up in a grave I’ve made for her, hmph. And last but not least, I FUCKING HATE spiders!”

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

Sebastian: “I do like to play basketball every now and then, hmm, hmm..”

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

Sebastian: “If a chick or a man wants to be a lil’ badass and try to throw a hit on me then I’m definitely gonna knock a bitch out.”

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

Sebastian: “I killed one of my childhood friends by slitting his throat open with a rusty knife. ...What? My so called best friends didn’t like the fact that I was gay and wanted to beat the shit out of me..so I had to make one of them pay for hurting me...and psychologically fuck up the other two by burying the lil’ prick and threaten their lives if they so much as squeal. Cruel ya say? Hey..as a fifteen going on sixteen I’m not the type ya wanna fuck around with, and when I say that I will end your life I fucking stand by it.”

14. What kind of animal are you?

Sebastian: “A big, fluffy wolf of course, hmm, hmm~”

15. Name your worst habits

Sebastian: “Spitting on the payment on my way to the pizzeria and burping when I’m on duty.”

16. Do you look up to anyone?

Sebastian: “...Nicholas...somehow...he was the first guy that actually wanted to help me...felt genuinely sorry for me...he’s like a real father figure to me..and I truly adore him so much....”

[Still relating to the canon FNAF AU of mine]

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

Sebastian: “I’m 100% gay, darling, hmm, hmm..”

18. Do you go to school?

Sebastian: “I stopped going to school when I dropped out of middle school when I was fifteen after my parents were killed...and then I started learning things on the streets or as some would call, School of Hard Knocks, hmm, hmm..though..when I turned eighteen, my uncle and his boyfriend found me and put me into a school where I repeat the eighth grade and then work my way up to the twelfth grade..and I managed to pass them all..”

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

Sebastian: “I want to marry Nicholas..he’s the man of my dreams..as for kids...the only kids I’ll gladly have is my darling Balto..he’s my fur baby.”

[Canon FNAF AU related]

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

Sebastian: “I do have some fan girls..which that is quite surprising, hmm, hmm..”

21. What are you most afraid of?

Sebastian: “.....Being alone....”

22. What do you usually wear?

Sebastian: “I prefer to wear black stuff since I look bitching in them..I like wearing my favorite black tank top..black camouflage pants..black combat boots...dog tags, black leathered gloves and a black collar.”

23. What’s the one food that tempts you?

Sebastian: “...A meatball sub”

24. Am I annoying to you?

Sebastian: “What the fuck do you think, perra?”

25. Well, it’s still not over!

Sebastian: “Vai a farti fottere...” [Translation: “Go fuck yourself”]

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

Sebastian: “I’m middle class..why the fuck do ya wanna know that??”

27. How many friends do you have?

Sebastian: “Three at the moment, one being PG, who I call lil’ purple, hmm, hmm. And the others are Satan, who is currently living with me and Techy.”

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

Sebastian: “I don’t mind eating Shepard’s pie and the only dessert pie I’ll eat is lime key pie..”

29. Favorite drink?

Sebastian: “White Russian, bitch!”

30. What’s your favorite place?

Sebastian: “...Rome, Italy. Only went there one time during a family vacation and my parents reluctantly invited my uncle and his boyfriend to spend the whole month there with us.”

31. Are you interested in anyone?

Sebastian: “Nicholas! I want to be his boyfriend so badly!!”

[Again, canon FNAF AU related]

32. That was a stupid question…

Sebastian: “Then why the fuck do you ask me that, shit for brains? Hmm?”

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

Sebastian: “Lake of course..”

34. What’s your type?

Sebastian: “In what? In a man? I love my men to be cute, sexy looking and isn’t afraid of getting freaky in bed, hmm, hmm~”

35. Any fetishes?

Sebastian: “Blood and Knife play, hmm, hmm~”

36. Camping or outdoors?

Sebastian: “I don’t mind camping...unless someone forgets to bring stuff for s’mores then fuck them. I ain’t going camping..”

Tagging: @darkness-with-humanity, @s-adistic-scars, @forcedfromgrace, @chocokittycat

[monaedroid]

She rose to fame as an endlessly inventive pop android. Now, she's finally revealing the real person waiting inside

Janelle Monáe is crying in her spacesuit. It's early April in Atlanta, and she's in one of the basement studios of her Wondaland Records headquarters, surrounded by computer monitors and TV screens, one of them running a screensaver that displays images of her heroes: Prince, Martin Luther King Jr., Pam Grier, Tina Turner, Lupita Nyong'o, David Bowie. She's about to reveal, for the first time, something the world has long guessed, something her closest friends and family already know, something she's long been loath to say in public. As she sings on a song from her new album, Dirty Computer,"Let the rumors be true." Janelle Monáe is not, she finally admits, the immaculate android, the "alien from outer space/The cybergirl without a face" she's claimed to be over a decade's worth of albums, videos, concerts and even interviews – she is, instead, a flawed, messy, flesh-and-blood 32-year-old human being.

And she has another rumor to confirm. "Being a queer black woman in America," she says, taking a breath as she comes out, "someone who has been in relationships with both men and women – I consider myself to be a free-ass motherfucker." She initially identified as bisexual, she clarifies, "but then later I read about pansexuality and was like, ‘Oh, these are things that I identify with too.' I'm open to learning more about who I am."

It's a lovely spacesuit she's wearing, a form-fitting white NASA artifact complete with a commander patch on one arm and an American flag on the other. She's put it on for no reason at all – there are no cameras in sight – as she lounges around Wondaland. The outfit is a remnant, perhaps, of the android persona, known as Cindi Mayweather, that she fed us all these years: a messianic, revolutionary robot who fell in love with a human and vowed to free the rest of the androids.

Early in her career, Monáe was insecure about living up to impossible showbiz ideals; the persona, the androgynous outfits, the inflexible commitment to the storyline both on- and offstage, served in part as protective armor. "It had to do with the fear of being judged," she says. "All I saw was that I was supposed to look a certain way coming into this industry, and I felt like I [didn't] look like a stereotypical black female artist."

She is also a perfectionist, a tendency that's helped her career and hindered her emotional life; portraying a flawless automaton was also a bit of wish fulfillment. It's one of the many reasons she thought she had a "computer virus" that needed cleaning, which led her to years of therapy, starting before the 2010 release of her debut, The ArchAndroid. "I felt misunderstood," she says. "I was like, ‘Before I self-destruct, before I become a confused person in front of the world, let me seek some help.' I was afraid for anybody to see me not at the top of my game. That obsession was too much for me."

So she overcompensated, as she puts it, leaving fans to puzzle over the sight and sound of a dark-skinned, androgynously dressed black woman creating Afro-futuristic fantasias as trippy as the Parliament-Funkadelic soundscapes she grew up hearing. She became a pop anomaly, a sometimes incongruous interloper in the universes of her earliest supporters, Big Boi and Puff Daddy, the latter having signed her to a partnership with Bad Boy Records in 2008. The ArchAndroidwas a buzzy introduction, and 2013's Electric Lady – certainly the first progged-out concept album in the history of Bad Boy – established her as one of the 21st century's most inventive voices. Years before Frank Ocean, Solange, Beyoncé and SZA pushed arty, alternative R&B to the mainstream, Monáe was already there, bridging the gap between neo-soul and all that was to come, unafraid to fuse rock, funk, hip-hop (when she feels like it, as on her recent single "Django Jane," she's a top-flight rapper), R&B, electronica and campy, drama-kid theatricality.

She always ducked questions about her sexuality ("I only date androids" was a stock response) but embedded the real answers in her music. "If you listen to my albums, it's there," she says. She cites "Mushrooms & Roses" and "Q.U.E.E.N.," two songs that reference a character named Mary as an object of affection. In the 45-minute film accompanying Dirty Computer, "Mary Apple" is the name given to female "dirty computers" taken captive and stripped of their real names, one of whom is played by Tessa Thompson. (The actress has been rumored to be Monáe's girlfriend, though Monáe won't discuss her dating life.) The original title of "Q.U.E.E.N.," she notes, was "Q.U.E.E.R.," and you can still hear the word on the track's background harmonies.

Monáe is the CEO of her own label, a CoverGirl model and a movie star, appearing in the Oscar-winning Moonlight and the Oscar-nominated Hidden Figures, two hits led by black casts. In both films, she tackles black American stories that don't typically get the big-screen treatment. "Our stories are being erased, basically," she says of her attachment to those scripts, which made her "want to tell my story." Monáe does worry that the human behind her masks may not be enough. She has asked aloud, including in therapy, "What if people don't think I'm as interesting as Cindi Mayweather?" She'll miss the freedom of being the android. "I created her, so I got to make her be whatever I wanted her to be. I didn't have to talk about the Janelle Monáe who was in therapy. It's Cindi Mayweather. She is who I aspire to be." On Dirty Computer, the only hints of sci-fi are in the title and the storyline of the accompanying film. The lyrics are flesh-and-blood confessions of both physical and emotional insecurity, punctuated with sexual liberation. They're the unfiltered desires of an overthinker letting herself speak without pause, for once. And she wants to help listeners gain the courage to be dirty computers too. "I want young girls, young boys, nonbinary, gay, straight, queer people who are having a hard time dealing with their sexuality, dealing with feeling ostracized or bullied for just being their unique selves, to know that I see you," she says in a tone befitting the commander patch on her arm. "This album is for you. Be proud."

Monáe grew up in a massive, devoutly Baptist family in Kansas City, Kansas, or as she likes to put it, "I got 50 first cousins!" Not all of them know details of her romantic life, but they have almost certainly seen her wear sheer pants and share a lollipop with Thompson in the "Make Me Feel" video. "I literally do not have time," she says, laughing, "to hold a town-hall meeting with my big-ass family and be like, ‘Hey, news flash!' " She worries that when we visit Kansas City tomorrow, they'll bring it up: "There are people in my life that love me and they have questions, and I guess when I get there, I'll have to answer those questions."

Over the years, she's heard some members of her family, mostly distant ones, say certain upsetting things. "A lot of this album," she says, "is a reaction to the sting of what it means to hear people in my family say, ‘All gay people are going to hell.' "

She began questioning the Bible and her family's Baptist faith early on. Now, she says, "I serve the God of love" – love, she's determined, is the common factor among all religions, an idea Stevie Wonder expanded on in a Dirty Computer interlude.

When we arrive in the flat, industrial Kansas side of Kansas City, her family doesn't actually have any questions – or anything unkind to say, for that matter. There's just a whole lot of love for their homegrown superstar.

Janelle Monáe Robinson was born here on December 1st, 1985, to a mom who worked as a janitor and a dad who was in the middle of a 21-year battle with crack addiction. Her parents separated when Monáe was less than a year old, and her mother later married the father of Janelle's younger sister, Kimmy.

Monáe's loving warnings about the sheer size of her family ring true as soon as we step into her old neighborhood. On one street, her maternal grandmother owned several homes in a row that housed cousins, aunts, uncles and Monáe herself. A few minutes away is her paternal great-grandmother's pastel-coated house. Monáe spent a significant portion of her time there – it was her main connection to her dad and his family as he went in and out of prison; their relationship was rocky until he got sober 13 years ago. Another short car ride away is her maternal Aunt Glo's home, where we meet her mom. "She's my favorite slice of pie," her Auntie Fats says, referring to Monáe's familial nickname of "pun'kin."

Monáe was raised in a working-class community called Quindaro. It started as a settlement established by Native Americans and abolitionists just prior to the Civil War, and became a refuge for black Americans escaping slavery via the Underground Railroad. A few weeks before our visit, vandals painted swastikas and "Hail Satan" on a statue of abolitionist John Brown in the neighborhood. It's since been repainted. "I know nobody in this neighborhood did that," her great-grandmother says, shaking her head. "Outsiders."

On the Missouri side of the bridge, Kansas City is predominately white, but Monáe's community is overwhelmingly black. "I would read about where I was from," she says, "and understand who's really disadvantaged coming from these environments. It sucks. It's like that for brown folks." It's hard to miss her family's religiosity – they hardly get a sentence out without a mention of God's blessings. At 91, Monáe's great-grandma still monitors the halls at the local vacation Bible school with a switch in hand. During our visit, she sits behind a piano to lead a gospel singalong. Monáe, beside an aunt and a cousin, joins in, belting "Call Him Up and Tell Him What You Want" and "Savior, Do Not Pass Me By."

Monáe is never more relaxed during our time together than when she's in Kansas City. Her Midwestern drawl comes back as she screams and sings while running into the arms of her cousins, aunts and uncles, many of whom she gets to see only during the holidays or tour stops nearby. At one point, she curls up into her mom's lap while they look at a homemade poster full of sepia-toned childhood pics. "She was a delightful baby," Auntie Fats recalls.

Monáe's family members all share different versions of the same story: She was born to be a star, and she made that clear as soon as she gained motor skills. There was that time she got escorted out of church for insisting on singing Michael Jackson's "Beat It" in the middle of the service. There were the talent shows for Juneteenth where she covered "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill" three years in a row and won each time. She was the star of the school musicals, except for The Wiz her senior year, when she lost the role of Dorothy because she had to leave the audition early to pick up her mom at work. She's still a bit miffed about not getting that part.

Monáe soon passed a bigger audition, for the American Musical and Dramatic Academy, and headed to New York. She studied musical theater and shared a small apartment with a cousin where she didn't even have a bed to herself. When she wasn't in class, she was working.

Meanwhile, an old friend was having the college experience Monáe desired, in Atlanta, so she relocated. The rest is well-trod history in the myth-building of Monáe: She was an Afro'd neo-soul singer strumming her guitar on college quads and working at Office Depot. She was fired from that job for using one of the company's computers to respond to a fan's e-mail, an incident that inspired the song "Lettin' Go."

That song caught the attention of Big Boi, who put her on Outkast's Idlewild and helped connect her with Sean Combs. "I'm-a be honest with you," her dad says, recalling an invite to one of Monáe's shows in Atlanta, where Combs was supposed to be in the house. "I was like, ‘Yeah, right.' I didn't think Puff Daddy was coming."

Skepticism aside, Michael Robinson was proud of the invite. He'd recently gotten sober, and the two were repairing their relationship. He spent much of Janelle's childhood hearing about her immense talents from the more-present members of their family. He was honored that they had come far enough for Monáe to want him to be there for such an important concert. But he still didn't believe Puffy would be there.

"I go down there with my two cousins, and she says, ‘Dad, everyone's gonna know you're not from here. Your jeans are creased.' " Fashion faux pas aside – he insists he hasn't creased his jeans since – Robinson was in for a pleasant surprise when one of his cousins spotted Combs and Big Boi in the back. It was the beginning of his daughter's new life, and he was just in time to be along for the journey. "I remember thinking, ‘This is what the big time is like,' " he muses. "They had all the cameras, all the lights. It was all about Janelle."

Wondaland Arts Society's headquarters feels like a utopian synthesis of Monáe's past lives in Kansas City and Manhattan. It sits inconspicuously in the midst of suburban Atlanta and looks like every other neighborhood home, with its two floors and brick exterior. Inside is much more ostentatious, with vintage clocks wallpapering the foyer, pristine white couches in the communal living spaces, and books and records everywhere.

It mimics the close-knit, constant accessibility of her childhood in Kansas City, with all its artists popping in and out of the space throughout each day to record new music, rehearse for shows and present the final product to the rest of the collective. At one point, the singer-rapper Jidenna shows up, having recently returned from a trip to Africa – everyone immediately starts teasing him about his newly buff physique.

Simultaneously, Chuck Lightning, seemingly the more extroverted half of two-man funk act Deep Cotton, who make their own music as well as work with Monáe, grabs a bowl of quinoa from the kitchen as Monáe doles out decisions on which version of the "Pynk" video will be released (they settle on the one without the spoken-word love poem that appears within the song in the film).

Monáe recorded most of Dirty Computer here, in a small studio with Havana-inspired decor. Guests and collaborators ranged from Grimes to Brian Wilson, who added harmonies to the title track. The album's liner notes cite Bible verses and a recent Quincy Jones interview alongside Monica Sjöö's The Great Cosmic Mother and Ryan Coogler's Black Panther.

But she was particularly close to one inspiration. Monáe was good friends with Prince, who personally blessed the album's glossy camp tone and synthed-out hooks. "When Prince heard this particular direction, he was like, ‘That's what y'all need to be doing,' " Lightning says. "He picked out that sound as what was resonating with him." Prince gave highly specific music and equipment recommendations from the era they were drawing on, including Gary Numan, whom he loved. "The most powerful thing he could do was give us the brushes to paint with," Lightning says.

Rumors spread that Prince co-wrote the single "Make Me Feel," which features a "Kiss"-like guitar riff. "Prince did not write that song," says Monáe, who sorely missed his advice during the production process. "It was very difficult writing this album without him." Prince was the first person to get a physical copy of The ArchAndroid – she presented the CD to him with a flower and the titles written out by hand. "As we were writing songs, I was like, ‘What would Prince think?' And I could not call him. It's a difficult thing to lose your mentor in the middle of a journey they had been a part of."

Stevie Wonder was another early fan of Monáe, and a conversation between them – Wonder insisted she record it – appears as an interlude on Dirty Computer. At one point, years ago, her budding friendships with both legends collided: She had to choose between playing with Prince at Madison Square Garden or with Wonder in Los Angeles. Prince encouraged her to pick Stevie.

On election night in 2016, Monáe found herself experiencing an unfamiliar emotion. "For the first time," she says, "I felt scared." Overnight, she went from living in a country whose president loved her music and had her perform on the White House lawn to one where it felt like her right to exist was threatened. "I felt like if I wake up tomorrow," she says, "are people going to feel they have the right to just, like, kill me now?"

Monáe had already been a committed activist. In 2015, with members of Wondaland, she created "Hell You Talmbout," which demands we say the names of black Americans who have been victims of racial violence and police brutality. Before #MeToo and Time's Up, Monáe created an organization, Fem the Future, which stemmed from her frustrations about opportunities for women in the music industry. She was called on to perform at the 2017 Women's March and to speak about Time's Up while introducing Kesha at the Grammys. "We come in peace, but we mean business," she told the cheering crowd.

That sums up Monáe's mindset in the Trump era. She hopes not to destroy the oppressors but to change their minds. "The conversations might not happen with people in the position of power," she says, "but they can happen through a movie, they can happen through a song, they can happen through an album, they can happen through a speech on TV. Most of them will probably turn off their TVs, but . . ."

She's in a New York hotel now, two weeks before the album's release. "There's some anxiety there, but I feel brave," she says, teetering between her typical sternness and a bit of vulnerable shakiness. No tears will be shed today. "My musical heroes did not make the sacrifices they did for me to live in fear." Her activism isn't the focus of Dirty Computer, but it's there, hovering above every note. She ended band rehearsal in Atlanta by asking the musicians to reflect on how American this album is. Monáe's America is the one on the fringes; it accepts the outsiders and the computers with viruses, like the ones she thought she had.

She understands the significance of now making her personal life a bigger, louder part of her art. She cites the conversation around one of her films as an example of how she might use her own story to engage with more-conservative listeners. "When I did Hidden Figures, there were some Republican white men tweeting about it and how they just felt bad. You could feel through their tweets that they were just like, ‘These black women did help us get to space. How could we treat them like that?' "

Meanwhile, she's again anticipating questions from her family back in Kansas. She seems more worried about them than what anyone else has to say. Still, Dirty Computer is meant to be a celebration, and if she loses a few people along the way, Monáe seems OK with that risk.

"Through my experiences, I hope people are seen and heard," she says, sitting at a hotel-room desk, dressed up from a day of promo in a puffy black-and-red jacket, matching red pants and terry-cloth hotel slippers. "I may make some mistakes. I may have to learn on the go, but I'm open to this journey." She sighs, voice confident and stare unfaltering. "I need to go through this. We need to go through this. Together. I'm going to make you empathize with dirty computers all around the world."

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/features/cover-story-janelle-monae-prince-new-lp-her-sexuality-w519523

[girlonfilmmovies]

Welcome to Friend Island: "Love Island US Season 3" and the Gaping Sores of America

So I foolishly thought that in the new year of 2021, the world would be in a better place than it was the previous year. After all, we were coming out of the "worst" of the most horrifying pandemic of the past century, a middling presidency that at that point served only a wealth of TV soundbites and less actual damage to the political system, and we were looking forward to a brighter future and a return to what some hoped would be "normal". The past was the past, and this was going to be a new moment.

Oh how naïve we all were.

As of this writing Covid-19 cases are hitting staggering new highs in the southern US, with Florida (of course) somehow hitting a record amount despite vaccines being easily available in the country for months. The death rates are at almost the same as last year. The middling disaster of the 45th president had one more trick up its sleeve, a firebomb brewing for dozens of years that went off in one of the most embarrassing fiascos of American political history. Misinformation has already implanted itself so thoroughly among half the country that people would rather die than admit they were wrong; the spread of such chaos being happily spat out through the algorithms of corporations only intent on raking in dollar signs. All the potential benefits that could have come from this once-in-a-lifetime moment are being briskly swept away: offices demanding their employees come back, no respect given to science and healthcare workers, the country's clearly weak infrastructure forced right back into action as if we didn't just see its gaping holes. The earth is dying and the people who actually have the resources do something about it instead have kickstarted a capitalist space race.

2021 has gone to show that old, toxic habits die hard.

Sigh.

Yeah, I watched Love Island again.

Despite my... let's say mixed feelings regarding last year's shitshow, I couldn't help but admit that it was the closest thing that I've had to appointment viewing TV that I've had in a long time. In an era of streaming and DVR boxes, it's a bit of an actual feat to get someone who works a fulltime job (especially one with erratic scheduling) to go out of their way to watch something the second it premieres. Love Island brings the family together, so they can engage in our favorite pastime: pointing and laughing at young, dumb, fame hungry cis-hets.

Plus, the second season had offered a fascinating glance at how to contend with a pandemic while also trying to stage a typical dumb reality show. The tropical island villa was swapped for a luxurious hotel rooftop in Las Vegas -- a literal ivory tower of ignorant hedonism looking down upon a plagued nation. You could feel the sexual tension of the hot, hyper-sexual adults forced without physical contact for months finally allowed to relieve themselves the only way they know how: toxic relationships. It was trying so hard to be an oasis in a desert yearning for frivolous content, but the façade was clearly visible to the point of satire. It was a wonderful thing to experience firsthand as what I originally thought as merely me dipping my toes into the genre.

Season 2 was the show that we deserved at the time, a funhouse mirror reflecting all the callous stupidity that had led us to this moment in world history. It attempted to offer a happy ending, a look towards the future: a black couple finally winning a reality show, a first for such a mainstream program (both of them actually kind of turned out to suck, but shhhh...).

It also allowed America to completely break the hearts of people while watching them fall apart live on TV. It was cruel, it was stupid, but most of all, it was fun as hell.

Season 3 is not about torturing the competitors. It's about torturing us.

In all fairness, there were a couple of lovely positive developments for the series this season. While still struggling with racial diversity a little bit, as evidenced by them casting only one very specific kind of black man like five times, strides are being taken elsewhere in the lane of body diversity. Alana makes her debut as literally the first woman on this show who isn't a size 0-2, looking absolutely gorgeous in every single shot.

The almost aggressively heteronormative nature of the show is slowly being shaken by a more openly queer cast than previously expected -- multiple bisexual/pansexual contestants participated, even though there wasn't any overtly queer romance shown (also almost all of them were women, with them describing their sexualities being confined to streaming exclusive episodes, which isn't... great). It's certainly a step in the right direction for a show that unceremoniously shuffled off the only queer member of the Season 2 cast overnight once the internet found his gay porn shoot. Ironically, they also ended up booting off the most openly queer member of this cast too, the purple haired proudly pansexual TikTok-er Leslie, but for the more legal reason of smuggling weed into the villa.

It's not terribly surprising that both Alana and Leslie garnered a lot of positive attention both inside and outside of the villa -- they stand out so much against the otherwise predictable casting that we've come to expect from this show and white American media in general. Alana is a woman with actual curves who looks stunningly gorgeous in comparison to the monotonous supermodel figures of everyone else. Leslie almost falls into a stereotype from the way she appears: dyed purple hair, tattooed all over, obviously queer, vaping weed constantly, exuding the kind of chaotic yet weirdly fun energy that only a former stripper can. Yet she obviously grabbed the attention of the contestants because while people like her abound in real life, in the fantasy land of reality TV she's an absolute rarity, a far cry from the sanitized beauty pageant-esque standards that they seem to pluck girls from. The men are still dumb, bland, boneheaded idiots in this show, but by offering some actual variety, they get to actually pursue people they aren't "traditionally" supposed to, while an outsider audience member like me gets to see women like herself be offered up for titillation in the same way "conventionally attractive" women are.

It's kind of cool, even if it is just playing into the icky sexualization of everyone, but hey...progress?

In an odd "two steps forward, one step back" kind of situation, the show has somewhat dialed down the outrageously toxic relationships of last year into a more relatively subdued level of toxicity. Gaslighting/cheating is at least kept to a relative low in this season compared to the nightmare that was last year, although this year's ratio depends on how much of that corresponds with sexy Columbian boy Will's obviously flimsy grasp of the intricacies of the English language. He continued to be plagued by the cliquey-ness of the cast until the very end but his genuinely sweet couple with Kyra still did enough to sneak into the final two.

The actual main problem this year was an almost unbearably long love triangle between Cash, Trina, and Cinco that refused to solve itself for nearly a month. Cash and Cinco perennially kept flip-flopping in their feelings for each other, bouncing between failed partnerships despite so obviously being into each other. Trina ended up roped in as Cinco's partner for a while, a constant victim of his own lack of courage to make up his damn mind. Cash, freshly single and in horny jail (aka Casa Amor), coupled up with the handsome and mysterious Charlie.

Now we need to discuss how bizarre Charlie as a cast member. Not only is he the only member who is, looks, and acts like an actual adult, but he also seems to show no adherence to the rules of reality TV: he's very relaxed and unassuming, seems genuinely uninterested in the "game" aspects of the show, and only perks up during rare moments of actual romantic potential. He's a fascinating spanner to throw into the machine of Love Island, and once Cinco was eliminated in the competition, Charlie had to sit there while Cash only continued to openly and aggressively pine for a man who isn't even her current partner. Proving once again to be an anomaly in the cast, he actually decided to do something about this: he unceremoniously dumped fan favorite Cash like a sack of bricks, sending her home while hooking up with the previously mentioned Alana. This smart decision was met derisively by viewers, despite him being the only person there who actually acted like a fucking adult for once. Ironically, this got him and Alana into the finals, where they finished in last place with the same trademark lack of enthusiasm that we've come to expect from him.

I suppose now we need to uncork the problem of the season and by extension the franchise as a whole. You might have read that previous situation and thought, "gee, a fan favorite got tossed aside while a guy that everyone hated ended up making it into the final four? That seems weird."

But by that point it really wasn't at all.

See, the problem with the voting is that you don't usually get to pick who goes; the audience only gets to pick who to prevent getting kicked. At that point, the audience control is out of our hands and now into the contestants', and if there's one thing we all learned in high school it's that cliques are very much a thing. The contestants seemed dead set on booting anybody who was new the second they had the chance, so many potentially exciting people were so quickly thrown out. Instead of the exciting potential we could have seen, we got a love triangle sucking anyone nearby into doom, with everyone else being a relatively stable couple or part of the Jeremy/Korey wishy-washy railway. Casa Amor was an absolute bust, with people making half-assed couplings despite still being in love with somebody else (it speaks a lot to the weakness of the Casa Amor men that Olivia literally preferred to come back single than with any of those planks of wood).

Part of the problem did rely on factors that nobody could control at all though. "Romance novel come to life" Slade seemed like a threat with his rugged handsomeness, twangy accent, and classic southern charm, but had to quickly leave due to ambiguous family troubles. Similarly, the nearly perfect Josh and Shannon, who seemed like an obvious shoo-in winner by virtue of being probably the only actual relationship on the show, had to depart in the middle of the night due to the tragic death of Josh's sister. Aforementioned chaotic pansexual Leslie was unceremoniously removed in the middle of the night once they had realized that her classic vape pen was actually full of weed, an especially tragic circumstance considering she basically had Cinco wrapped around her finger and was about to bring that love triangle crashing down (also tragic because she has gone on record saying that she was fully crushing on Genny while they were both in there, robbing us of any potential of a queer couple).

But part of the pain as always has to do with how the producers control everything no matter what: what we see, what we hear, who gets the villain edit and who gets the hero edit. It's why they seem to play Jeremy as dumb hot surfer bro instead of the actual funny and charming guy he is. It's why Trina was treated as a bitch and Cash as a woeful victim despite the roles more often than not lining up the other way around. And most embarrassingly, it's how the biggest joke couple of the show ended up winning it all.

Now, look at this picture right here: the poses, the awkward hand holding, the very strange smiles between those two. No, this is not a picture of two teenagers going to prom together who just met only five minutes ago and are taking pictures on their parents' front lawn; these two are the winners of season 3, the supposedly "strongest" couple on the show. This is Olivia and Korey.

Korey is a charming boyish sweetheart by way of an absolute fucking dumbass. He's sort of like last year's beloved and wonderfully stupid Carrington: a very sweet and nice teenager who seems to have "13 Going on 30"-ed his way into an adult body. He's childish in a way that's very cute and friendly but also woefully unattractive to anyone who's an adult. Just like Carrington, he notched up a staggering amount of dates with pretty much every single beautiful woman that came into the villa, all seemingly very interested in him. Carrington, for as dumb and childish as he is, could bag anyone because he was outrageously confident too. Korey on the other hand seems incapable of making any decision, following any girl who pays him the time of day like a little puppy, constantly looking up to her with his big puppy dog eyes. It's very telling that for all the dates he had, almost none of them actually went anywhere because it's just not that appealing to anyone. If you're looking to win, he's not someone who can scheme and play the game. If you're looking for love, he's not going to cut it because he can't seem to even understand the concept of romance. If you're looking for a friend, he's probably the best damn one you'll get in that villa -- but as constantly established by everyone, this show isn't called Friend Island.

Olivia is a bit of a thornier subject. She habitually couples up with people that you can kind of tell she's not at all into. She started the first half relatively unassuming and not particularly interested in the men that she was supposedly attracted to. But you could basically see her panties drop when Slade walked in, ready for him to pull her up into the saddle and ride away into the sunset. But his sudden departure only left her more empty, desperately grasping onto whatever random attraction she could. She went off to Casa Amor single and had the gall to come back without coupling up with any of them (although once again, they really dropped the ball with the men compared to the stunning Casa Amor women). And somehow in the midst of all this wishy washy mess, she finally settled on the one single man who she hadn't coupled up with and supposedly suddenly had feelings for: lonely, little Korey.

As a watcher of two seasons of this shit, I've seen a lot of fake relationships, but this one is just ridiculous. The chemistry is really nonexistent; she seems more annoyed or at best partially amused whenever he tries to say anything genuinely sweet to her. She reacts like how you would when a little kid tries to tell you they have a crush on you, an adult: you just kind of go, "aw, cute, thank you!" and walk away chuckling. It's genuinely comedic in how tragic it is, a boy who thinks he's finally found someone when all she's found is a trip to the bank.

And what did the editors do? They tried their very best to sell this as genuine, as actual romance. We know what romance is -- we basically saw it with Shannon and Josh, and to a lesser extent Will and Kyra. And yet they whipped out that expert level edit to say, "wow, look at these two lovebirds, huh?" It's ridiculous, especially since only in the final episode did they suddenly remember that Jeremy and the stunning Bailey (aka the combination of Gal Godot and Ashley Judd circa-2001) were an actual couple and even they looked more real than the winning couple.

Love Island is, if nothing else, a reflection of America.

It's an outdated tradition desperately grasping to what's left of the typical western idea of romance. No matter how many beauty pageant contestants they pick, men like women who aren't size 2s, or with natural hair/skin, or with family-friendly occupations. Women are probably tired of the big muscle bound hunks they usually put on here, the nearly identical men that they seem to cast every single season who have all the looks but zero of the confidence or personality.

It's an example of how our choices are an illusion, how our influence can be easily overwritten by those in charge. Votes that don't matter when they change the rules on the fly, ripping out the actual choice of the people in favor of letting them decide what stays and what goes.

It's a testament that even in the face of a viral pandemic that's quickly turning into part two, as the lives of millions are being further destroyed across the world, there will always be some asshole who has more than you and looks better than you, vacationing on a tropical island stolen from its people, ignorant of everything else that's happening around them.

Love Island hates everyone. It hates it's contestants. It hates the viewers. It hates change. It hates me.

But I do still kind of love it.

[ifishouldvanish]

The Boston Hour (10/?)

In which Belle is an Antiques Roadshow super-fan and Gold is her favorite appraiser.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Rumford basks in the after-glow of his date with Belle. Back in Storybrooke, Belle has lunch with her father, who's curious to know how her trip to Boston went. RATING: T WORDS: 6,858 A/N: Kind of a stitch chapter, so not much plot to speak of. Just got back from vacation in Vienna and wanted to get something posted since it’s been forever. TMI’s here - [x].

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Read on AO3]

Ruby hit send and glanced up from her phone's screen once she noticed Belle and Rumford step outside of the hotel. He was resting his hand on her lower back as they walked, and the two of them were too busy gazing and smiling at each other to pay the world around them any mind. Someone bumped Rumford's shoulder, and he didn't seem to notice. A second later, someone else bumped into Belle and she only stumbled closer to him. She blushed, and he smiled, and she smiled, and he smiled even more. He then pointed out the small steps that lead to the sidewalk and took her hand, carefully guiding her down each one like a god damned boy scout helping an old lady cross the street– only he couldn't take his eyes off of her and wound up stumbling a little himself.

“Jesus Christ.” Ruby muttered to herself as she watched the whole thing. “That’s fucking adorable.”

Rumford looked up, eyes panning the street as he searched for the car, and Belle pointed happily in Ruby's direction where she sat in the loudly idling Mustang. He made a surprised face, and Belle nodded, and he smiled. Again.

Ruby was pretty sure she'd never seen two people smile so damned much.

He opened the door for her and helped her into the passenger seat, but not without Belle hesitating and pressing a kiss to his cheek first– which made him blush profusely, of course. They exchanged about two dozen variations of 'thank you’, ‘I had a lovely time’ and ‘ have a safe trip ’ before Ruby had to cut them off and pull out into the road already.

Belle's head turned as they drove off– her gaze fixed on Rumford's rear as he turned back and headed for his rental car. Ruby felt a little bad, but there was no way in hell she was going to get suck in Boston traffic on the way home, and the window for the optimal departure time was closing fast.

“So… that looked like one hell of a kiss.” Ruby teased. “Didn't think you kids had it in you.”

“Oh.” Belle coughed and tore her eyes off of his arse, opting instead to stare blankly at the windshield. “Well, he was um. H-he's a good kisser?” she stammered.

Ruby watched the blush rise to her cheeks and grinned with amusement. “...Uh-huh.”

“W-we shared ice cream.” Belle said.

“Right…” She noticed the shopping bag at Belle's feet and pointed at the red rose poking out of it. “So, whatcha got there?”

Belle blinked out of her trance and gasped. “Oh! Ruby, you're not going to believe this!” The plastic bag rustled as Belle dug through it and pulled out three notebooks. They looked to be falling apart, and Ruby knit her brows as she watched her hastily flip through the pages of one of them. “We think whoever these journals belonged to, they must have been the same person who illustrated Her Handsome Hero!” Belle said. “Look!”

Ruby pulled up to a red light and took a moment to look at the drawing Belle had opened the journal up to. She might not have been a connoisseur of the arts by any stretch, but the resemblance was certainly undeniable. “Holy shit, that is cool.”

“I'm gonna translate these and see if they say anything useful, and share my findings with Rumford!” she bubbled excitedly, the smile on her face the widest Ruby had ever seen.

“My precious little nerd...” Ruby smiled. “I was actually talking about that though,” she said, pointing at the rose.

“Oh!” Belle giggled and put the journals away, plucking the rose out of the bag instead. She held it up to her nose and closed her eyes, giving it a long, indulgent sniff. “...It's from Rumford.” she sighed wistfully.

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Ruby snorted. “But I mean, how'd he go about it? Set the scene for me, Belles. Take me there.”

Belle gasped and pressed her lips together as if struggling to keep a secret, then glanced over her shoulder and leaned in closely as if to share one. “After we found those books, I had to pee.” she said. “And when I got back from the bathroom, he was waiting for me with it? And I was like, ‘is that for me?’ and he was like–” she paused and lidded her eyes, deepening her voice. “...If you'll have it. ”

“Nice!” Ruby nodded and hiked her brows. It was kind of a miracle either of them could stand within ten feet of each other without exploding, after all.

“So of course I accepted it! And I said thank you, and I kissed his cheek… and just...” Belle trailed off and looked down at the rose, rolling its stem between her fingers. “...He's perfect.”

Ruby scoffed.

Belle snapped up and turned to face her again. “I mean I knew he was perfect, but he's even more perfect than I thought which shouldn't even be possible? But he just– he raised the bar for the standard of perfection. ...Like, you know how the ancient Greeks believed man was the measure of all things?”

The light turned green and Ruby pulled forward. “Not really, but go on.”

“Well, Rumford is the standard by which all other men in my life are measured.”

“...Gotcha.” she said. “You know, us lay folk call 'em life ruiners.”

Belle pouted her lips and tilted her head, weighing the term. “But he’s not ruining my life. He's…” she threw her head back and sighed, “...bringing magic into it.”

“Well, I'm glad,” Ruby laughed, then slammed on the brakes as someone cut her off. “Asshole!” she muttered, flipping them the bird.

“Anyway, enough about me!” Belle said. “Tell me about Dorothy– Miss I-Spent-The-Night-In-Her-Hotel-Room…” she teased, wiggling her brows.

The scowl on Ruby's face curled into a smile. “Oh, it wasn't a big deal, really…” she mumbled despite the warmth she was already feeling in her cheeks. “I told you– She got kinda drunk, so I drove her back to her hotel… walked up to the room with her... I kept her company for a bit, and then we put some cheesy sci-fi movie on on Netflix and made fun of it.”

She and Dorothy had each other in stitches last night, providing their own silly commentary on how quickly and predictably the heroine fell for the cliche macho protagonist, the deus ex machina that was introduced at the last minute to save the day, and how much better the whole thing would have been if they’d just made the heroine gay– because there was no other explanation for the way she looked at the brunette scientist who was introduced in the second act.

“Mhmm…” Belle smiled, nodding along as she listened.

“Anyway.” Ruby shook her head. “There might have been some light cuddling… and then we passed out.”

There was a stretch of silence before Belle finally asked, “...And?”

Ruby paused to check her mirrors before switching lanes, glad to have the excuse of driving so she could avoid eye contact. She didn't get smiley and goofy after the first date. That was for dorks, and she was cooler than that. “And what?”

“That's it?”

“Hmm…yeah, pretty much.” she shrugged.

“Pretty much?”

“...Yup.” Ruby nodded and cleared her throat. It wasn't untrue. That really was all that had happened last night. But what no one needed to know was how much she enjoyed the cuddling, and that there actually had been a kiss this morning.

Belle was already onto her, though.

“Actually, at one point, she did start showing me pictures of her dog.” Ruby said, changing the subject.

Belle's expression melted in an instant. “Aww! What kind!?”

Ruby huffed out a relieved little laugh. “Rough Collie?”

“Oh my God!” Belle gasped. “Those are so floofy!”

“Yeah, the dog has nicer hair than I do.”

“What's his name? Please tell me it's Toto or Lassie!”

“Those were my first guesses too!” Ruby said. “But her name is Marlene.”

Belle frowned. “That's an unusual name for a dog.”

“She’s named after the late great Marlene Dietrich, who was like, super gay.” Ruby chuckled.

Belle sputtered a laugh and shook her head. “Okay, but like, did you guys… you know...”

Ruby glanced over her shoulder and moved over another lane. “Did we what?”

“Oh come on, Ruby! You know what I mean!”

“Nope. No idea.”

“Fine.” Belle huffed and rolled her eyes. “...Was there a kiss?”

“A kiss?” she asked, her nonchalant tone betrayed by the smirk on her face. “Oh, yeah. Kiss, yeah.”

Belle groaned in frustration and she laughed.

“We kissed this morning before I left. It was… nice.”

“Nice?”

“Well, what do you want me to say!?” Ruby snapped. “Wasn't anything like your steamy, semi-public make out– it was just a nice, simple, first date kiss!” she said, cringing at how fast and high-pitched her voice had suddenly become.

“So there's gonna be a second date, you think?”

“I don't know!” she cried and threw a hand up on the air. That all depended on how Dorothy would respond to the text she'd just sent, but Ruby was feeling pretty good about it. Mostly. “...Maybe?”

Belle drew a deep gasp. “Oh, you like her...”

“Well, duh. ” Ruby huffed and tried to stay focused on the road. “I wouldn't have asked her out if I wasn’t interested, you nut.”

“Yeah, but–” Belle giggled, “you really like her.”

“So?” She said, staring a hole into the car in front of them.

“Nothing. I just think you guys were cute last night.”

Ruby slouched in her seat, making herself small. “Yeah well– you and Rumford should just like... Shut up and get married already, because that's how stupid and cute you are.” she shot back bitterly, as if it were an insult.

“Aw…” Belle smiled. “You think we're stupid and cute?”

“Ugh. Yeah. It's gross.” Ruby muttered, trying to keep a straight face. “Just watching him walk you the car, I almost lost my lunch.”

There was a sudden buzzing sound from the dashboard, and Belle beat Ruby to her phone.

“No texting while driving, Rubes.” she teased, holding it out of her reach. “Good thing you have your best friend in the whole world here to check your messages for you though, right?”

Ruby huffed and rolled her eyes. “Okay. Fine. What does it say?”

“It's from Dorothy…” she sing-songed and wiggled her brows. “She says, ‘sounds good. See you there.’ With a popcorn emoji, the um… upside-down smiley face... and sparkles!”

A smile crept across Ruby's face. Dorothy lived in Portland, and so there was no reason they couldn't see each other again. And again. And well– actually date.

“You're gonna see a movie together!?” Belle asked. “What movie!?”

“I dunno… one of the theaters in Portland does screenings of classic movies on Thursdays or something.”

“Aw… She's a movie buff, isn't she?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Ruby mumbled.

But oh, she was. She totally was. Ruby left the hotel this morning with a list of movie recommendations a mile long. Dorothy had been pretty reserved while they were at the bar, but once they'd started scrolling through Netflix, she was chattering away about her favorite actors, her favorite directors, how amazing the script for one film was, and how incredible the cinematography was in another. She'd called about a dozen films “her favorite movie of all time” and if it were possible, Ruby would have gladly stayed in that hotel room for two weeks straight, cuddled up next to Dorothy while they watched and rewatched every single one of them.

“Okay,” Ruby said. “Text her back… ‘Can't wait,’ with um…”

“A winky face?”

“No… the one that's like, smirking?”

Belle clicked her tongue. “Got it.”

“And sparkles.”

“Sparkles.”

*****

Neal tilted his head and squinted as they finished the trek across the airport parking lot, and Rumford couldn't tell if he was staring at him or if the sun was just in his eyes.

“You seem… different.”

Ah. Staring, then.

“Well, I suppose I do feel different.” Rumford said.

That was an understatement. Two days ago, he'd kissed Belle French– he practically felt like a new man. A better man. He still put his trousers on one leg at a time, of course– but he stood a little taller, chose his tie with a little more pride in the morning, preened in the mirror a little longer. The fact that he was at the airport for the second time in two days? Couldn't bring himself to mind.

“You're… I don't know. More relaxed. Loose in the joints. You got like… a swagger to ya.” Neal said, hoisting up his luggage and hauling it in the trunk of the Cadillac. He drew a sudden breath and spun around, clasping his hand over his mouth. “Oh my God– You totally got laid.”

Rumford waited for him to step aside so he could close the trunk with a satisfying click. “Got what, now?”

“You did the do with that lady!” Neal laughed, walking over to the passenger door. “Oh my God, that's gross, Pop! I mean, I'm happy for you– but gross.”

A smile crept across Rumford's face as he headed for the driver's side. “If by 'did the do’ you mean, ‘spent a lovely afternoon antiquing together’ then yes. I'm afraid we did it all day long, son.”

Neal narrowed his eyes at him for a moment and climbed into the car with a sigh. “Why am I not surprised?”

“What?” Rumford asked, following suit.

Neal fastened his seatbelt and turned to face him. “You still at least kissed her though, right?”

“Yes. We ah... kissed. On the lips.”

“Like a kiss, or a kiss?”

Rumford stopped fastening his seatbelt and froze. “Ah…”

Was there an appropriate way to say, we started to make out in the hotel lobby and almost knocked the décor over amidst the heat of our passion?

“It was… thorough.” he said, starting the car and cranking up the air conditioning. Took a moment to loosen his tie. Tug his collar.

“...Thorough?” Neal scowled and turned all the air vents away from him, wrapping his arms around himself. “Let's pretend I didn't ask and you didn't just say that.”

Rumford coughed and gripped his hands on the wheel. Yes. They would pretend he never said that. His boy always did have a good head on his shoulders.

“So, like… is she your girlfriend now?” he asked.

“I– I don't know.”

“What do you mean, you don't know?”

“I mean I don't know! We didn't… discuss that.”

“You are really bad at this.” Neal said. “Like, astoundingly bad.”

Rumford huffed and let that roll off his shoulders. Things with Belle had felt so easy, so natural– Once he got past his rampant anxiety and self-doubt, at least. And even when he had been reduced to a stammering, blundering mess, she still smiled and invited him out. For all his worry, they'd had a wonderful time together. He'd made her blush and laugh, and she'd said he was cute and called him her favorite. Twice.

They'd see each other again. Belle sounded quite sure of that, and in retrospect, he was starting to feel it too.

“Well, I think this woman might beg to differ.” Rumford said, a smug little grin tugging his lips. “You know, perhaps your father isn't as hopeless as you think.”

Neal gave him a sidelong look.

“All I'm saying– and will say– is that she gave me every indication that she enjoyed herself and would like for us to see each other again sometime. Sooner rather than later.”

“...Uh-huh.” Neal slumped in his seat and fished his phone out of his pocket. “Well, you better not screw this up, 'cause I want a chance to meet this woman,” he laughed. “I mean, she's gotta be like, the biggest nerd to see you talking about musty old books and fancy vases and think, ‘Look at that fine hunk o’ man right there... Mm! I wouldn't mind gettin’ myself a piece of that.’”

Rumford scoffed, and he raised his chin a little at the realization that that had been what happened– more or less. Belle could have easily charmed any one of the dozens of appraisers on the show. But she'd chosen him. Looked at him and thought, 'Yes, I want that one.’

The notion made him feel downright giddy, and the tingle he'd felt in his chest after their appraisal, after their chat when she'd invited him out, after their walk together, all bubbled inside him anew. Yes, yes. He very much felt like a new man indeed.

“You know–” Rumford stretched his arm behind the passenger seat and looked over his shoulder as he began backing out of the parking spot. “A good verbal appraisal can be... an incredibly erotic experience, Neal.”

Neal stopped swiping on his phone and looked up at his father in mortification. “...What?”

“I'm talking about someone showing you something that's terribly personal to them, and for you to understand it better than they do,” Rumford explained coolly, putting the car back in gear and squaring his shoulders. “To teach a perfect stranger something about themselves and their past through their possessions… To inform them that something of theirs is priceless. Valuable. ...Desirable . You can tell a great deal about someone by the things they hold onto, you know? When you appraise these things, it can be… not unlike a seduction. You bare one's soul to them, and well– if the conditions are right– reveal your own in the process.”

Neal wrinkled his nose and scowled at him. “Pop, what the hell are you talking about?”

A good question, Rumford thought. What the hell was he talking about?

Ah, yes.

The sultry look in Belle's eyes while he told her about the trends in book cover design during the late nineteenth century. The look of open lust they shared as he described the defining characteristics of the illustrations in her book. For, surely, that had been the dizzying sensation he felt– the magnetic pull of animal attraction between two strangers. So visceral, so raw. At the time, he'd trembled in the face of it all– a meek, innocent bairn. But now? After that kiss? He was a man experienced in all the ways of desire. Touched by the hedonistic thrill of completely losing oneself in another without any intention of ever being found.

“...Pop?”

Rumford shook his head and cleared his throat, finally meeting his son's baffled gaze. “You’ll understand when you're older, son. Now get my wallet out so I can pay for the parking.”

Neal blinked. “O-kay…”

The rest of the ride home consisted of an account of all the things Rumford had bought for the shop while he was at the market with Belle, several impersonations of the other passengers on Neal's flight, and the customary stilted conversation about Milah and her latest beau. In the time it took to get home, Rumford only had to remind his son to watch his language twice, which was... progress, and he didn't even have to remind him to wipe his shoes on the mat before stepping inside the house.

“Dude. It's clean in here.” Neal observed as he stepped into the foyer.

Rumford struggled to pull the keys out of the lock for a moment. “Oh.”

Yes, that.

The second he'd gotten home Sunday evening, he’d turned his study upside-down, gathering all of his sources on Les Reines des Ténèbres, making copies, and stuffing them into an envelope addressed to the Storybrooke Public Library– though not without adding a few personal touches like a handwritten note, of course.

But once that was ready for the post, Rumford found himself in a mood . Or perhaps more accurately, a panic. He didn't know how soon to expect a call to arrange a visit from Belle, but the mere thought of her seeing the sorry state he lived in was enough for him to start cleaning. The bar for what qualified all his trinkets as “worth holding onto” had raised enough that in an hour, he had three boxes full of junk to throw out– or rather, three boxes full of possible inventory to put in the capable care of Miss Halloran. She'd packed the van up with glee late last night, thanking him enough times that he actually started to believe he was paying her a kindness, and not just dumping all his shite onto her lap so he could wipe his hands of it all.

A good employee, Miss Halloran. He'd have to give her a raise.

“Aye, well, you know… just tidying a bit.”

“A bit?” Neal asked skeptically, poking his head into the next room. “Where'd all that shit in the living room go?”

“Oh, some went in the shop, some in the storage unit.” Rumford dismissed. “...And how many times do I have to tell you to watch your mouth?”

“Sorry.” Neal sighed. “But for real, Pop– The place looks nice.”

“Y-you think?”

Thank God.

“Yeah, I mean… you even got rid of all those busted watches on the dining room table.”

“Well, ye know.” He mumbled, beginning to feel embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. “M-Miss Halloran took those. She has more time for them than I do, I'm afraid.”

“Huh.” Neal looked at him again, the same way Rumford himself might look at a piece of mid-century modern furniture.

Was never a fan.

“And all this has nothing to do with this lady you're totally dating?”

“She might be visiting some time in the coming weeks, yes.” he answered casually, smoothing out his tie and uselessly prodding at his pocket square.

“...Right.” Neal said. “Well, let me know when, so I can make plans to be as far away from this house as possible that night.”

Rumford clicked his tongue and scoffed. “We'll just be going over some translations, son.”

That was a lie. He had every intention of sweeping Belle off her feet. Wooing her with… whatever the hell it was that had convinced her to ask him on a second date. Demonstrating to her how remarkable he found her. Kissing her again. Yes, yes. Another kiss. That would be good.

Neal arched a brow at him. “Going over some translations? Is that what you academics call it?” he said, and Rumford blanched.

The nerve! The impudence! Where had he gone so wrong as a parent to deserve a son so saucy as this!?

Milah. Clearly her doing. After all, she's the one who had convinced him to try pot when they were in grad school. You're too high-strung, she'd told him. You need to relax.

All lies, of course. The devil at work. And Heaven knew what sort of corruption she was up to now.

“Dude, you're totally gonna make her dinner.” Neal teased.

Rumford rolled his eyes. “Well, of course I'll make her dinner!”

His aunties always taught him that the notion that it was exclusively a woman's place to slave over a hot meal for a man was misogynist propaganda put forth by the white patriarchy, and that the fastest way to anyone's heart was through their stomach. Considering how delighted she was by the food selection at the flea market, Belle seemed to be no exception.

“Are you gonna light candles?” Neal asked.

Rumford huffed and ushered him up the stairs. Should he? “Go... unpack your things!”

Neal laughed his way upstairs with his luggage. “You should put on some jazz records too!” he shouted.

“I-I-I–” Rumford stammered. Coltrane? Ellington? “...Maybe I will!”

Neal's footsteps slowed to a stop as he reached his bedroom , followed by the soft and distant (though very distinct) sound of him flopping heavily onto his bed. Rumford spun on his heels and started toward the liquor cabinet. He needed a drink.

You know, to relax. Was starting to feel terribly high-strung. A neat scotch would do nicely. He readied a glass and brought it to his lips, but the sound of footsteps returned.

“...Hey.” Neal called softly from the landing. “Dad?”

Rumford spun back around with a smile and returned to the stairs. Here it was– For all his sassy remarks, Neal was still his boy, after all. Still had the grace to apologize. Admit his wrongs. Do his father proud.

“What is it, son?”

Neal snorted, and Rumford immediately closed his eyes, resigning himself to his fate. “Do you let her call you Rumford,” he laughed, “...or Barbara?”

Rumford snapped a finger at him. “You're grounded.”

“What!? You can't ground me!” Neal whined.

Rumford pressed his lips into a thin line and narrowed his eyes at him.

“...Yeah okay, maybe you still can,” Neal mumbled, retreating back up the stairs.

Rumford opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a vibration in his pocket. He slid his phone out as it continued to ring and checked the screen. David.

His eyes darted back and forth between the phone and his moping son for a moment until he finally let out a sigh. “Neal?”

He stopped his trek up the stairs and spun around. “Yeah?”

“You're no’ bloody grounded,” Rumford said. “Just– Know when to give your old man a break sometimes, aye?”

Neal smiled and happily continued up the stairs, and so Rumford returned to his scotch and took his call.

“...David.” he answered.

“Hey, bud!” David greeted warmly. “What's up?”

Rumford blinked owlishly. Bud. They were buds.

“David.” he said again. “Uh… H-how are you? Mary Margaret? Emma?” But why was he asking all the questions? David was the one who'd called him.

“Good, good. Look–” David said, “I just wanted to give you a call and see how your uh, date went.”

Ah, there it was.

Date. Date. Date.

“Yes. Yes, it ah… went well. Went well.”

"Good! That's great!” David said, and he actually sounded like he meant it. Like he was happy for him and like he actually enjoyed talking on the phone.

Incredible.

“It was two dates, actually.” Rumford corrected him. Not because he was boasting about having gone on two dates with the most stunning woman he'd ever laid eyes on– no, no– but because it was important to keep the facts straight and omit nothing. Old habits died hard, and such was the life of the personal property appraiser.

So, two dates with Belle French.

Not one.

But Two.

Dates.

With Belle French.

“Oh, wow! Really?” David asked.

‘Really?’ Rumford thought bitterly. What the hell was he implying with that incredulousness?

“We went to the flea market Sunday.” he added, a little more defensively than he intended to. “Spent the day there.”

“That must have been nice, man. I told you you could do it!”

Rumford opened his mouth to speak, but realized he didn't know what to say to that. Admit to his friend– his bud– that he had been right all along? That all his panic and worry had been for nothing?

Over his dead body.

“So…” David said, “anything happen? Any spark--”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“Kiss, I mean.” Rumford blurted, clearing his throat and leaning against the liquid cabinet. “There was a–” he bumped into the decanter, sending it teetering over the edge– and his heart nearly leapt out of his throat as the image of his aged scotch spilling onto his prized Bakhtiari rug flashed before his eyes.

He caught the decanter mid fall and felt his soul return to his body.

“There was a kiss.” Rumford finished breathily, his heart still pounding in his chest from the crisis he'd just narrowly averted.

“A kiss…” David baited.

He took a deep breath. “Aye.”

“Well, do you think you'll see her again?”

“Oh, I hope so.” he answered right away, and a smile tugged at his lips.

“Hey– Some enthusiasm!” David said. “I like it!”

“She's brilliant.” Rumford said, smiling fondly at the decanter.

“Yeah? What's she like?” David asked.

“The first day of spring.” he said, the words leaping out of his mouth.

“Oh. That's… nice.”

“The first bit of warmth you feel when you step outside on a clear day.” Rumford continued. “She is the sun, David. She is the sun, and I am the first bloom of spring– ready and eager for the sustenance she provides with her smile, her laughter.”

“Wow. That's… that's really beautiful, Rum.”

“And yet–” he began running a finger over the lotus inlay on the surface of his liquor cabinet, “she is the flower, and I am the bee.”

“Oh.” David stammered. “Well, okay.”

“Sweet. Luring. Tempting. Vibrant to the eye. Soft to the touch...” Rumford took a sip of his scotch and sighed.

The way she nibbled her lip, the way she walked so gracefully in those impossible heels. The seductive manner in which she had eaten that churro. And had her voice been not unlike that of a siren while she described the symptoms of disease in plant life? Yes, yes– Belle French was desire itself. Sensuality personified.

“...You still there, bud?”

Rumford coughed into his glass. “What now?”

“Nothing, nothing. Was just starting to think thought I lost you there,” David chuckled awkwardly. “But I'm glad things worked out for you, man.”

“Aye. They did. Thank you.” he said, quickly grabbing his glass and downing the rest of his scotch.

“Anyway… how's Neal?”

“Oh, wonderful, wonderful…” Rumford smiled. “As sarcastic as ever.”

*****

It was day three since the single greatest moment of Belle's life: meeting Dr Gold. She'd gone on not one date with him, but two. Gotten to know him. Kissed him (thoroughly!). Made plans to make plans to see him again. She hadn’t gotten any calls or texts from Rumford yet, but that was probably just because he was really busy. Perhaps she could call him saturday night after his show in Richmond and they could talk about how her translations on those journals were coming along, what he appraised at the show, or what each other are wearing and what they might do if they were together– like have tea and read poetry.

It was like the start of her very own romance novel.

Oh! How she'd been replaying their kiss in her mind every waking (and not waking) moment. It had been pure magic. Clearly, her and Rumford were just meant to be. Soon, she'd be introducing him to her father and figuring out what to get him for Christmas. Or maybe he didn't celebrate Christmas. Maybe he was Jewish. Was he Jewish?

It was a loud smack! that finally pulled Belle out of her thoughts. She startled, her heart pounding in her chest, and noticed the large tome that had fallen face down on the display she was setting up on the front table. She reached to pick it up with a sigh, knocking over another book in the process. Smack!

Her phone began buzzing rhythmically, inching across the table with each pulse of vibration. She swiped it up and checked the screen.

Reminder - Lunch with Dad.

“Oh!” Belle gasped and rushed to right her two fallen books, then scurried into the back room to grab her purse.

Papa was already waiting for her when she arrived at Granny's, as were their usual Coke and iced tea. Ruby didn't hesitate to strut over to their table, the smile on her face a little too eager. Her father would be asking her all about Boston today, and Ruby had bet her twenty bucks that it would be a disaster.

“Belle, Mr French-- Always a pleasure.” Ruby greeted with a nod, readying her notepad and flashing a shark-like smile. “What'll it be?”

Belle's father looked up from his menu with a quick, polite smile. “I'll have a cheeseburger. Medium rare–”

“Papa…” Belle shot her father a chastising glare across the table and Ruby stopped scribbling on her notepad. “The doctor said–”

“I know what the doctor said!” Moe grumbled, rolling his eyes. “God, what's the point of living longer if I can't… live a little!”

Belle opened her mouth to protest, but only sighed instead.

“He's got a point.” Ruby chimed in.

“Thank you.” Moe said with a vindicated smile.

“Fine.” Belle said, glaring at Ruby before reaching across the table to take her father's hand. “Just… promise me you'll be good the rest of the week?”

He returned a pained expression and sighed. “I promise.”

Belle narrowed her eyes at him. “I mean it, papa. No fast food for lunch.”

“I promise!” he said, throwing his arms up.

“We can go to the store tonight and get you some things so you can pack your lunches.” she suggested. “Pick up some turkey, some whole grain bread. Lettuce, tomato…”

“Needs bacon and swiss.” Ruby added.

“Or provolone.”

“No!” Belle huffed, holding up a finger at the both of them. “No bacon! And you need to watch your dairy!”

Ruby shrugged and looked at Moe. “I tried.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile and handed her his menu. “Cheeseburger. Medium rare. …With bacon.”

“You got it, Mr French.” she winked, jotting it down and turning to Belle.

Belle's eyes skimmed the menu over and over, repeatedly drifting back to the word cheeseburger. But she couldn't order a cheeseburger now. No, no.

“I’ll um, have… the uh…”

Salad. If she wanted her father to start eating right, she was going to have to lead by example. Normalize healthy choices. The Caesar salad was good, she thought. But wasn't the dressing so fattening as to defeat the purpose? Dammit. Dammit. “The um… the grilled chicken and avocado salad.” she said before she could change her mind.

Ruby scowled and wrinkled her nose.

Her father reeled back in offense. “Grilled chicken and avocado salad!?”

Belle threw her hands over her face and groaned. “Excuse me for trying to set a better example!” she cried. “You think I don't want a cheeseburger!? Cause I'd love a cheeseburger!” she shouted. “But I try to eat healthier around you so you don't feel left out eating a turkey sandwich while I sit across from you and wolf down a double cheeseburger with extra cheese and extra bacon and extra everything!”

Ruby and her father blinked owlishly at her as she huffed and puffed, recovering from her outburst.

“Princess.” Moe said. “If you want a cheeseburger, just order the damn cheeseburger.”

Just order the damn cheeseburger? Just order the damn cheeseburger!? And ‘princess!?’

“Fine!” she said. “Then I will! With fries! Extra fries! And I want bacon on mine too! And throw in an order of onion rings while you're at it!”

Ruby fought back a snicker and scribbled her order down. “I'll have that right out for you guys,” she grinned, plucking the menu from Belle's hands and strutting back to the kitchen.

“So… how was Boston?” her father asked.

Belle took a large sip of her iced tea and nodded as she slowly set it back down. “It was um… It was good.”

“Good...” he repeated, not sounding too satisfied with her response. “So you got to see that... fella you're always on about?”

She took another swig. “Mhm!”

Moe frowned and drummed his fingers on the table. “Well, is that it? I thought I'd be hearing about it for a month, is all.” he chuckled rather stiffly.

“Well…” Belle glanced down at the condensation puddling around her glass, blushing and smiling despite herself.

We flirted with each other on national television and I invited him out for drinks and proceeded to drunkenly come onto him and maybe sort of made out with him the next day.

She cleared her throat. “He um, said Mama's book could be worth a small fortune.”

“I see…” Moe nodded along, bringing his Coke up to his lips and taking a long sip.

“And um, well, he was really sweet and charming and I um… or he um– well, I'm not really sure who actually asked who but uh… We went on a date afterwards!” She blurted gleefully.

“You wha–” her father gasped and began choking on his drink.

“Oh– Papa!” Belle climbed halfway out of her seat before he gestured for her to sit back down.

“Fine.” he coughed into his fist. “M’fine!”

“Are you sure you're alright?”

He nodded and took a moment to finish his coughing fit. “Fine, princess.”

“O-okay…” she said, finally easing back into her seat. Was feeling a little too tense to roll her eyes at the princess this time.

“I-I'm sorry–” Moe stammered, “a-a-a date, you said?”

“Yes…” she answered simply, stirring her straw with intense focus.

“Now, when you say a date–”

“We went to a bar and had a few drinks.” she shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal. To make a molehill out of what he was definitely trying to make into a mountain. Perhaps they'd cancel out into a… modest hill. A hillock.

It was close enough to the truth, at least. Papa didn't need to know the part about how she got drunk before Rumford had even shown up and all the… advances she made.

“Right.” he said.

“H-he was a perfect gentleman,” she rushed to assure him, catching herself and shoving her glass away. “And Ruby was there the whole time.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We um… well, we had really good time and we went to the flea market Sunday for like… another.” she said. “Date, I mean. A-another date. Oh papa, it was amazing!” Belle blurted, and clamped a hand over her mouth.

Gosh, darn it. She could never temper her excitement around her favorite topics: books, Rumford, puppies, and food. In that order.

Moe pursed his lips. “How old is this man again?”

“Oh. Uh…” Belle looked down at her lap and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I mean, he can't be a day over forty… seven… ish?” she mumbled. “...Fifty, maybe? ...Tops fifty, definitely.” She nodded.

Moe leaned forward and blinked. “Fifty!?”

“I said not a day older! He could be...  forty-two?”

“So you don't know?”

“Not exactly… but you know what Mama would say,” she chuckled uncomfortably, “...age is just a number?”

Moe shook his head. “I don't like the sound of my little girl going on a date with some man from TV who's old enough to be her father.”

“Oh, now papa,” Belle snorted and rolled her eyes. “He's not that old...”

He scoot forward in his seat and tapped a finger on the table. “You know, it's just that these men, they probably show a good time to a new girl in every city.”

She sank into her seat a little. “He’s not like that–”

He glanced furtively around the diner and whispered, “I just hope you didn't give him what he was really after, Belle.”

“Papa!”

“Look, I get it. You have a little... crush on the man, but you're not getting any younger, Belle. You can't keep wasting your time mooning over some TV man like that when, well... you and Greg made a lovely–”

Belle smacked her hand on the table, cutting him off. “Greg was total jerk who was only looking for someone to… to fellate his ego!”

The diner fell silent, but Belle refused to glance around at all the faces that were definitely staring at them. Couldn't ignore Ruby snickering by the soda fountain though.

“He what?”

“My date with Rumford was the best date I've ever been on!” Belle said, putting her foot down. “He actually listens to what I have to say and asks for permission before he kisses me!”

“Maybe it was.” Moe conceded. “But I think if you're expecting to ever hear from him again, you're only going to be disappointed.”

“But we made plans…” she mumbled, shrinking in her seat.

“Alright,” he shrugged. “Then where? When?”

Belle thought back to her conversation with Rumford at the hotel and frowned. “Well… plans to make plans.”

Her father sighed. “Exactly.” he said, leaning back victoriously in his seat. “I'm sorry, princess.”

“No.” she said, lifting her chin up. “You're wrong about him.

He had to be. Rumford had been far too sweet, far too nervous– and the kiss they'd shared far too magical– for him to be the sort of man Papa thought he was.

“Well, for your sake, princess, I hope I'm wrong.” he said.

“I would appreciate it if you'd stop calling me princess.” Belle said before she could talk herself out of it. “I don't like it and I never have.”

Moe scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You always used to love it when I called you princess!”

Belle folded her arms over her chest and huffed. “When I was a child!” she said. “I am a twenty-eight year old woman and I won't tolerate being infantilized a moment longer!”

Her father blinked owlishly, and as Belle glanced around the quiet diner again, she could tell she had said those words entirely too loudly. She heard a familiar, stifled laugh from the kitchen and looked down at the fist she'd slammed on the table with a sigh.

She owed Ruby twenty dollars.

A/N: TEA nominations are underway! If you'd like to support my work, you can be a rockstar and spread around the promos I've been posting here - [x]. Thank you all for your comments and encouragement on this story! :*