#they’re killing them while we watch football

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

While Americans are distracted watching the Super Bowl, Israel has chosen to begin bombing over a million Palestinians.

It’s timed too conveniently to be a coincidence.

There’s nothing we can do to stop this but please don’t be silent. Even if you’re watching the game, please use your voice to condemn genocide in this moment and afterwards.

[moonstruckme]

pls hear me out 🙏🙏 vampire!james is recently turned and doesn’t feed cause he’s such a sweetheart he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

reader notices how weak he is and finds out he hasn’t been feeding and basically offers herself to him and it’s just really comforting and cute

Babe I hear you !!! I hear you soooooo clear (the voices omg, I was so excited to write this). Thank you for requesting!

cw: blood mention

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

James never had a problem with eating animals before he became a vampire. You pointed this out to him, once, but he only said it’s different. You suppose it is. The chicken nuggets he used to devour came to him cooked, fried, and with sauces, utterly unrecognizable from what they’d once been. There’s no separating the live-ness from what James has to eat now. 

You spy on him over the top of your book. He’s sitting on the other end of the loveseat with your feet in his lap, massaging your arches through your thick socks while he watches a football match on the telly. His dusky skin had paled after he was turned a few weeks back, but he looks even paler than that now. If he were still human you’d think he was anemic. It’s four in the afternoon, and your ball-of-energy boyfriend looks as tired as if he’s ready for bed. 

“Jamie,” you say, and he squeezes your heel to indicate he’s listening, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can, lovely, yeah.�� 

“Have you been feeding?” 

James stiffens at the term. “Mm, why do you ask?” 

It’s as close as he thinks he can get to a non-answer, and it’s an answer for you anyways. James can never stand to lie to you. It’s terribly endearing. 

You turn your foot to poke his abdomen. “I can hear your stomach growling.” 

His lips curve. He glances at you. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.” 

“Really? How does it work?” 

“I don’t actually have a clue.” James smiles, which was your aim. He’s been far too downcast for your liking, his new condition entirely to blame. 

“Well, you’re looking pale.” 

“I’ve been pale.” 

“Paler than pale.” You set your book on the side table, moving closer to him. You sit with your feet folded under you. “Also, you haven’t been going out to feed like you used to.” 

James finally looks a bit sheepish. You smile and cup his face in your hand. Though he knows you know, James has still been a tad secretive about the vampire business around you. He sneaks out after he thinks you’re asleep. You’ll hear the front door open and shut when he leaves and then again when he comes back, the kitchen tap running as he cleans himself up. You wish he’d just use the shower. You don’t mind him walking through your bedroom with blood and dirt on him if it means he gets to feel clean when he slips back into bed with you. 

You rub your thumb over his cheek. “What’s keeping you?” 

He sighs. His face weighs a bit heavier in your palm. You think this must be progress, and you repeat your ministrations to his cheek to encourage it. 

“Everything’s hibernating,” says James, a quiet shame underlying his tone. “The…things I used to feed from are gone, and I’m not left with a lot of choices.” 

You hum. “Well, you’ve gotta eat, Jamie.” 

He hesitates, and you give him your sternest look. 

“You do. What about the deer?” 

“They’re harder to catch. And…I…I just feel bad, you know?”

You nod. Take his hand and press a kiss to his palm. Your poor sweetheart. You know James hasn’t killed anything he’s fed from, but even scaring them and potentially hurting them for the time it takes him to feed rattles him terribly. He’s too good, good and kind down to his core, but you know he’s going to have to find some way to cope other than starving himself. 

“What about people?” 

James’ eyes round behind his glasses. “Wha—no, I—”

“I wouldn’t mind you using me.” 

He seems to falter for a moment. His thick brows draw together in stages, from disbelief to confusion and back again. “Angel,” he says, “I couldn’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because, it’s—it would be—” 

“Or maybe we could try someone else. Someone bad, like a corrupt politician or one of those people who siphons money away from charities.” 

“No.” 

“Then we’re back to me.” You smile at him, one part teasing and two parts genuine. “James, I want to. I don’t like seeing you like this, and I really don’t think I’d mind it.” 

James looks like he’s still having trouble processing. “You don’t think you’d mind?” 

“I don’t,” you repeat patiently. “I’m sort of curious, actually. It could be fun.” 

He looks, to your surprise, like he might actually be considering it. He’s gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know if it’d be fun, angel.” 

“That’s okay,” you promise him. “I want to do it for you. You’re hungry, yeah?” You try to make your voice serene and persuasive, your hand coasting up and down his arm. “Let me help.” 

James looks you in your eyes. You hold his gaze. After a while, the fight seems to go out of him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says. 

“Oh, baby.” You kiss him on his cheek, your heart bulging. “You won’t. It’ll be fine. How do you want me? Hair up?” 

He shakes his head. “It’s good the way it is. I think, um, it might be easier if you were in my lap.” 

“Okay.” You grin, lifting your thigh over his so you’re straddling him. His hands settle on your hips. “Are you romancing me? Is this part of it?” 

James lifts the corners of his mouth, but you can see the trepidation lingering beneath his smile. You do your best to soothe it away with your hands on his shoulders. 

“I want to be gentle with you,” he says.

“I bet you say that to all your victims.” 

“Sweetheart…”

“Sorry, sorry.” You’re nervous. You kiss his nose in apology. 

“If I hurt you—if you don’t like it for any reason, I want you to squeeze my shoulder. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You nod, trying to look certain. “Does it usually hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” James admits. “With animals, they don’t usually…move much after I’ve bitten them. I’m not sure if it stuns them or what.” 

“I’ll report back,” you say seriously. You glance down at the couch cushions. “Will it be messy? Should we go to the bathroom or something?” 

“No, I’m—I’ve gotten better at it. We should be fine here.” 

You smile at him, your pride genuine. “Sounds good.” 

James is starting to look worried again, so you kiss him. On the lips, as sweet as you can muster, and imagine all your love pouring through it. Then, you pull your hair to one side and bear your neck. 

His pupils splay out.

“Remember to squeeze my shoulder.” He sounds hoarse. One of his hands slips up your back to steady you beneath your shoulder blades. 

“I will,” you vow. 

James looks dazed, almost reverent. He wets his lips, and when he opens his mouth you see his tongue skim over pointed teeth. Some prey animal’s instinct sends a shiver of fear through you. Your blood hums with anticipation. But just before James’ teeth skim your neck, he pauses. 

“Jamie.” It’s soft, a murmur, a plea. “It’s okay. Do whatever you want with me.” 

He makes a quiet sound, like a sigh or a whine, and closes the gap. 

At first, it’s only like he’s kissing you. He’s exceedingly sweet about it, lips opening warmly over your skin, his tongue pressing over your artery as though testing the waters. He splays his palm wide over your back in silent warning before his teeth sink into you. 

There’s a sting, but you were ready for it. You keep yourself from wincing, from doing anything that would make James move away, and after a second the pain dulls. Everything does, except for the extraordinary feel of James’ mouth on you. 

“Oh.” Your mouth opens of its own accord, head lolling further to the side to give him better access. You want more, more of this, more of him. Your brain fuzzes and your heart pounds, every nerve in your body narrowing its focus to where James is sucking at your neck, lapping you up. 

You wind your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, and his palm coasts up your back comfortingly. You feel molten, spectacularly, transcendently languid, like you could press your fingertips to his shoulders and they’d melt right in. You don’t, not wanting him to misinterpret it as your signal and stop, but after a while James’ arms are the only thing keeping you from tipping sideways onto the couch, and he stops anyway. 

He finishes with a few chaste kisses, and you think giddily that you weren’t too far off about the romancing. 

“Y’okay, lovie?” he mumbles into your skin. 

You hum in reply. 

James presses one more sweet kiss to your neck, almost a thank-you. He seals the wound with his tongue. A giggle bubbles out of you, one shoulder coming up to ward him off. 

“Sorry,” you say to James’ surprised look. Your head is starting to clear. “That part tickled.” 

His grin splits his face, one part tentative and two parts relieved. “Yeah? Are you really okay?” 

“Super okay,” you promise him. You can’t help grinning. “You were right, it didn’t hurt. That was nice.”

James’ expression eases, some mix of relief and interest in his gaze. “Was it actually?” 

“Mhm. I would be your blood donor any time, really.” 

James scoffs, but he’s clearly elated. He strokes from your hip to your ribs with a big hand, trailing tender kisses up to your cheek. You’re thrilled to see how much more energy he already has. 

“I don’t know about that,” he says in between kisses. “I’d still rather not make you my victim if I can help it.” 

“I didn’t feel like a victim, if that helps.” Your words go mushy as he reaches your lips, but you keep talking, wanting to make your point. “I just mean, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Maybe when you’re lacking in other options.” 

“Mm, maybe. What was it like?” 

“Like a really good kiss.” 

James backs up from you to give you a dubious look. “Better than the ones I give you normally?” 

You grin. “Maybe a little.” 

His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth drops open, curving on one side. “Oh, yeah? Bold claims.” 

“I don’t know if you can compete with whatever vampire magic that was, Jamie.”

“My kisses are very magical. It seems like I may have to remind you how good they really are, though.” 

You shrug coyly. “If you think you can top that, you’re welcome to try. I mean, you’re really only competing with your—”

James is on you before you can finish.

[axelsagewrites]

Could you do a Roy or Jamie fic where the reader gets hurt? Even something silly like getting hit in the head with a ball at practice or something! They’re super concerned and want to take care of them! I also love angst…sorry if it’s a stupid idea. No worries if you don’t want to write it 💜✨

Jamie Tartt*Practise Mishap

Pairing: Jamie x f!reader

Word count: 1291

Warnings: reader getting hit by a football (which hurts a lot btw from experience), Jamie feeling guilty, fluff

A/n: i love this idea btw ive been wanting to write something like this for a while but i made this more fluff than angst

Masterlist here

You’d never actually seen Jamie at practise. There was the occasional time where you dropped him off or picked him up after, but you never lingered since he needed to concentrate. However today Jamie in all his genius managed to forget his phone this morning.

“Wouldn’t have forgotten it if you hadn’t have distracted me love,” he teased, a smirk toying on his lips that made you smack his chest.

“Can you not?” you said, nodding to where the coaches stood only a couple feet away.

Of course, Roy heard. A loud groan came from him before he barked at Jamie, “Back on the field Tartt,”

“You staying to watch Jamie in action?” Ted asked, far more politely than Roy who was sulking at the suggestion.

You looked between him and Jamie who seemed to perk up at the idea, “Is that allowed?”

“I don’t see why not,”

“Maybe he’ll actually put some effort in,” Roy mumbled.

Jamie just rolled his eyes at Roy before giving you a quick kiss, “Get ready to see the king in action,” he said before running back on the field as you laughed.

“How do you stand him?” Roy grunted.

Truthfully you found Jamie’s cockiness annoyingly attractive, but you didn’t think Roy needed to hear that. “What can I say? I’m a saint,” you joked.

Even though the practise was interesting at first it was just boys kicking balls around a field and the illusion quickly worn off. That plus you were supposed to get a bunch of things done at home since it was a rare day off. You turned to Ted to tell him, “I’ll probably shoot off in a minute or two,” you said at the same time as someone yelled “Watch out!”

Roy tried to grab your arm, pulling you out the way, but not fast enough and a ball planted right in the middle of your chest, knocking you off your feet. You hit the ground with a thud and all the air was knocked out your lungs.

You heard Jamie shout your name, but you were too busy coughing up a storm and trying not to be sick. Roy and Ted had crouched down beside you, Beard shouting for Nate to run for the first aider. “Are you alright love?” Jamie asked, dropping to his knees beside you.

“I think- “your attempts to speak was interrupted by more coughing and the urge to be sick, “Ow,” you winced.

“What the fuck were you doing Colin?” you heard the footballers begin to argue as they all rushed to your side.

“I was trying to pass to Isaac! I didn’t know he didn’t see me,”

“When I said improve your kick, I didn’t mean kill Jamie’s bird,” Roy yelled at him, standing up.

Ted tried to calm him, but it was Jamie who spoke first, “Oi! The lot of you move it. you’re crowding her now piss off,” his anger washed off his face when he turned back to you, “C’mon love let’s get you some help,”

“I’m fine,” you winced as Jamie pulled you to your feet.

“No, you’re not now be quiet and let me help you,” he said as he helped you over to sit on a bench at the side. The first aider came and gave you a once over and said it was all good but to be careful. So, Jamie naturally made them triple check. Colin also came over, apologising a million and one times to which you assured him it was okay, and Jamie tried not to death glare him.

Some water and painkillers did help but you still weren’t feeling amazing. Ted walked over with a guilty smile on his face, “How we are doing over here folks?”

“Better now,” you smiled, hiding your wincing as best you could.

“I’m gonna kill Colin,” Jamie muttered.

You rolled your eyes, placing a hand over his, “It was an accident babe. Let’s just let it go, okay?” Jamie didn’t say anything, but you knew he wouldn’t. “But I should defiantly go now,”

“Well Rebecca gave me a call saying to tell Jamie to take the afternoon off and take care of you,” Ted said and before you could protest, he cut you off, “Its doctors orders, okay? Now scamp you too. And try take it easy, okay?”

You felt bad making Jamie miss the end of practise but right now football was the last thing on his mind. after dropping you off at his place and surrounding you with pillows and blankets Jamie went on a Tesco run for snacks.

When he got back you laughed when you saw the almost overflowing bag. “We’ve got enough to survive the winter,” you joked as he sat it down. “You’re spoiling me,”

“Never,” Jamie said with a bashful smile as he pulled out the flowers from behind his back, “Got ye these as well,”

“Aw Jamie,” you gushed, standing up to take them from him but you winced slightly as you did.

Instantly concern washed over his face as he grabbed your arm to steady you despite you not actually falling, “You alright love? I knew that women missed something. What hurts- “

“Jamie,” you interrupted him, cupping his face with your hands making him pause in his tracks, “I’m fine baby I swear. Are you?”

“Yeah, course I am,” he said, wrapping his arms around you, “I just don’t want you getting hurt and that. I just feel bad’s all,” he said, mumbling as he hugged you tighter.

You moved your head to rest on his shoulder, hugging him back, “But why?”

“You were there to see me and then you got hurt. I know how hard those balls can hit,” he said before sighing, “Its all my fault,” he mumbled making your heart break.

You pulled back only to pull him to sit on the couch next to you, placing the flowers on the coffee table, “It was an accident. It was no one’s fault,”

“It was colin’s fault,”

“It was no one’s fault,” you repeated, rolling your eyes with a small smile, “Now are you gonna sit and mope all day or are you gonna take care of me?”

Finally, a smile cracked onto his lips, “Thought it didn’t hurt anymore?”

“I lied,” you said, sinking back into the couch in a dramatic display, “I am wounded beyond belief. You’ll need to do everything I need,” you joked with a hand splayed across your head.

Jamie leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Don’t I always?” he smiled. “Want me to put those in some water?”

“Yes please,” you grinned as Jamie got up to sort out the flowers, but you called out before he could leave the room, “Can we have a movie night?”

“If that’s what the lady wants, that’s what the lady gets,” he grinned, “Just try not pick a total chick flick,” he added with a smirk that made you roll your eyes.

By the time he’d returned with drinks and a takeaway menu you already had 27 dresses queued up, “Oh c’mon,” Jamie protested as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

“Please, I’m injured,” you teased making him roll his eyes but finally agree. Despite his protests Jamie was more into the movie than you were and made you pinkie promise to pause it when he went to get the food when it arrived.

Four chick flicks and an unholy amount of food later you and Jamie were curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets. “Feeling better?” he murmured in your ear though you could hear from his voice he was already half asleep.

“Feeling perfect baby, thank you,”

“Anything for you,”

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[friend-lover-traitor-narrator]

A couple of thoughts after re-watching TGM

What I think is actually canon

Amelia is Mav’s daughter (Penny hints at that when she’s talking to Mav about her) but Amelia doesn't know

Mav considers himself to be Bradley’s dad (Mav answers when Bradley asks his dad what to do) 

Bradley considers both Goose and Mav to be his dad (after Mav says that Bradley saved his life, Bradley says that his dad would've done the same - considering the fact that Mav has already saved Bradley's life you could see that as Bradley seeing Mav as his dad, too) 

Bradley has lived with Mav for a considerable period of time (Mav says to Penny he tried his best to be a father for Bradley) 

Thoughts concerning TG3 / Predictions 

I think they gonna set up Phoenix as Bradley's love interest because they seem very close in the movie (but for me they’re more like besties) 

I hope they gonna keep the character's of Warlock and Cyclone (with Cyclone basically hating Mav and Warlock secretly supporting the shit Mav does all the time) and also they need to keep at least Warlock because somebody needs to prevent that Mav is thrown out of the Navy

I hope there still will be references to Ice (I just love him and he needs to be mentioned) 

Other thoughts 

I actually paid attention to the hangster dynamics for the first time

Jake’s and Bradley’s first hook up is right after dogfight football

Bradley is Ice-coded while Jake is Mav-coded 

I ship bobnix now (I think Nat and Bob are very sweet together in the movie - need to find some fluffy fics about them)

The lifelong friendship between Ice and Mav just kills me (solely sticking to the movie here because otherwise icemav is endgame imo), like Ice basically knows everything about Mav (every shit he has done at work, everything around him pulling Bradley's papers, private problems he’s had etc.) and also the other way round (Mav supporting him during his battle with cancer and a whole lot of other things which we don't know because sadly Ice is only a minor character in both movies) 

I love that Mav refers to Ice in the whole movie only by his nickname

I had to keep myself very hard from crying during the funeral scene (if I had watched it alone, I probably would’ve cried) 

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 88)

Alexia Putellas x Character (44)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((2.2k)) - Just a lil one tonight!

Due to popular demand, I'm going to post a chapter bi-weekly, every Thursday and Sunday night until we hit Part 100!

ALEXIA POV

Ridley opened her mouth and Alexia cut her off. “Don’t you lie to me.”

Her mouth shut and her jaw locked. While she pondered what to say, Alexia grabbed whatever napkins she could and pressed it into her leg to soak up the blood. To her credit, Ridley didn’t flinch. It wasn’t bleeding too badly, but she did need to fix a few stitches. Alexia ran down the line of blood following her leg, cleaning it. She scrunched up the bloody napkins and looked at Ridley who was fighting with herself.

“Someone bad.” Surely she didn’t think that was enough? Alexia gave her a stern look. Ridley sighed. “Someone here to kill me.”

It was confronting, even being an answer she’d expected. She’d noticed how she was tense almost since the moment their food arrived.

Ridley’s eyes flickered away and back. Usually, Alexia wouldn’t care what she was looking at. Right now, though, she did. She turned to see a black car pull around the back of the café.

If Ridley wasn’t going to tell her, she’d find out for herself. Alexia made a move to stand and Ridley’s hand caught her arm, her eyes intensely meeting her own.

“Don’t.” She almost winced at the harshness in which she said the word herself, as she grabbed her arm. She didn’t like telling her what to do, and it was fair enough as Alexia didn’t take being told what to do well. They shared a look and her hand softened, her thumb stroking Alexia’s arm. “Don’t.” This time is was softer, almost pleading.

Alexia couldn’t help but turn back towards the side of the café where the car had disappeared behind. Ridley’s hand left her arm and moved to her face, her jaw lightly taken between her four fingers and thumb as she gently turned it back to her. “Ask me anything, and I’ll answer it.”

Her eyes moved to Alexia’s lips and back, which in turn made the footballer feel a warm and fuzzy feeling she tried to hide. This was serious.

“The man here to kill you. Is he dead?”

“Yes.” She whispered as Alexia’s stomach turned.

Chiquito leapt up onto her lap, as if knowing she needed him. She unknowingly leant into Ridley’s fingers, which were still there, and still comforting, even with the knowledge of what they’d just done.

“Did you kill him?”

“Yes.” The Australian responded quietly again, as if worried the words themselves would scare her away. Her dark, aware eyes searched for any discomfort in her own, and honestly even if there was, it was melted away by her presence alone.

“Who is in the car?”

Ridley’s eyes flicked to Alexia’s bottom lip as her thumb stroked across it. She soaked it in, watching the way it moved as if she were worried it would be her last chance to do so.

Just as Alexia moved to press into her hand again, it was gone, leaving her skin cold where it had been. She put her hands on Chiquito, petting him to make up for the absence that was Ridley’s body on hers.

“They’re called the Pa Wai Airborne. They’re the Thai special forces.”

She hadn’t expected that.

“How did they know…?” She trailed off as she thought. Their phones were in the bag. How had she contacted them? Told them where to find the body? How had they gotten here so quickly?

“Because we’re under their protection in their country.” She was still studying Alexia’s responses, which she liked but was too frustrated to admit. Ridley continued. “The man in the blue shirt….the one with the camera…the one at the vending machine…”

Alexia clocked them as she described them. “They’re all…?”

Ridley nodded. Her eyes widened.

“Then why did you have to?” She gestured to the back of the building with her chin and she stroked through Chiquito’s soft grey fur.

“There were two operatives down for too long. I didn’t like it.”

“Are they okay?”

“One is dead. The other will be okay if they clamp his artery in time.”

They’ve been around us the entire time? She wondered.

“Yes. They have.” She turned to Ridley, not knowing she’d said it aloud. And then she answered her next thought also. “Including at the festival.”

“The woman with the drinks?” She’d seen her and a spike of jealously had torn through the usually composed Spaniard, at just how pretty she was, and how much chemistry she’d had with Ridley.

She shook her head and Alexia felt her body stiffen further. “She’s one of my team.”

The way she said it was special. She was special to her.

“Your team was there? Who are they?”

“We need to start moving, Lex. I don’t want us to stay here for longer than we have to.”

Ridley stood, and Alexia followed suit automatically, with Chiquito climbing up onto her shoulder for a good view. She now found herself more aware of their surroundings than ever. Her head on a swivel like Ridley’s usually was. Though, it wasn’t because she felt unsafe, but rather, she was curious.

They moved towards the taxi they’d been in before, and as they slid in the back, Ridley spoke to the man in English.

“How is he?”

She was confused until the response came.

“He’s stable.”

He was one of them also?! Her shocked expression was caught by the Australian. She’d purposely asked him so that Alexia would know who he was. She answered her earlier question.

“You asked about my team? Duce, the woman, was there along with Becks, who commands the group. Fuzzy is another, you’ve heard me say his name. We’ll see him when we drop off Sash’s Grumman. Wombat is the other, though I won’t be letting you around him anytime soon.”

Was he crazy? Or damaged like Sash?

“He won’t flirt with you, because you’re mine, but he’ll make it very obvious that he wants to. Can’t control his dick, that one.”

She didn’t know what to think about first. The abrasiveness to which she described her friend or the possessive ‘you’re mine.’

She looked out of the window of cab and saw the people Ridley had described earlier, moving to follow.

“If they weren’t so concerned about the current situation, you’d never know they were there.”

Ridley’s words sent a shiver up her spine. This was an entire other world she’d never considered before.

“And when we get back to Spain?”

“The Green Berets are some of the best in the world.”

“My family…?”

Ridley looked at her sympathetically. “They’re being watched. And Blue. And Lucy. And…” she reached out to touch her cheek softly. “…if you don't want me around, they will continue to look after you. Regardless of if I’m there or not.”

She was giving Alexia an escape.. and one that she didn’t want, nor need. If only she just started to be fucking honest with her.

They spoke a little more before arriving at a local market to stock up on food. She loved this. The natural feel of it. She was able to be a human being, and walk around completely unrecognised by the general public. Life would be like that with Ridley, and she knew it. She’d make sure to take her to places where she could get away and relax without worrying about paparazzi or a fan taking a photo of her.

They stocked up two eskies and met up with their ‘taxi driver’ who took them back to the jetty. Ridley loaded it onboard and talked Alexia through the take off.

The flight wasn’t long, but it was silent. She was uncomfortable with the dishonesty. Actually, the fact that she hadn’t been dishonest, and had stuck to her word, but still, somehow, found a workaround by simply not telling her things happening around them.

An hour later, Alexia found herself in their little slice of heaven, Chiquito padding down the shoreline as she stood in the sand with the water up to her ankles.

Ridley came to join her after leaving her for a few minutes.

She paused at the Spaniard and reached down to touch the smiling sun on the necklace she’d given her.

“Happiness, remember?”

“Not everything can be perfect all the time, Ridley.”

Ridley winced at Alexia using her full name, retracting her hand. Alexia immediately felt guilty.

“Tell me what’s not perfect?”

“Why? So you can fix our life issues and not tell me about it?”

She understood now.

“Alexia-”

“Do you think I don’t know what’s happening? Do you think I don’t have eyes? Football may be nothing compared to what you’ve seen and done, but still, give me some credit. I’m a fucking midfielder. I see everything.”

“Lex-”

“I see that you’re trying. That you’re opening to me. But still, you’re hiding things. I’m always just waiting for you to let me in, and that doesn’t mean simply answering a few questions, Ridley. I need everything. All of you. The good, the bad, the ugly. Fucking everything.”

Ridley inhaled a sharp breath and her dark eyes which were now lighter with the sun hitting them, darkened as her pupils dilated.

“My family is in danger? You tell me. We’re being watched? You tell me. You think I don’t understand that you’re struggling between being open with me, promising to stay, and then feeling guilty at the situation you’ve put me and my family? I can see it in your face, because I know you.” She took a step forward which meant tilting her head slightly further up to keep her eyes. “I know you, and this entire time, I’ve been waiting, hoping for you to just let me into that fucking… fucking fortress you’ve built around yourself. Blue told me to be gentle with you, and I have been. I’ve been as gentle as I can while grasping onto my own pride. I feel like I’ve been clawing onto it since I first saw you at Javier’s. You think you’re the only one out of the pair of us who has wondered if this is just an infatuation?” She stepped forwards again, making Ridley step backwards once, twice, until the back of her legs hit the dinghy and she dropped onto the edge of it. Alexia looked down at her. “A sexual chemistry? A simple crush because of the names we’ve made for ourselves? How this could possibly work when we’re both so dominant? If neither one of us wants to carry children? If we’re going to barely see each other with our jobs? Well, I have. I’ve thought about all of it. And I’ll tell you right now that I don’t care what you’ve done, or what you’ve been through, Ridley. I want you. Not a tiny piece. Not a version of you. I want ALL of you.” She dug around in her bag for the piece of paper which had quickly become the most precious thing to her over the past few days. She found it and withdrew it from her bag, holding it up. Ridley’s eyes widened and for a split second, she simultaneously relished the knowledge she’d surprised her and felt guilty at the look on her face. “I want the Ridley who wrote this, because she…she is my person.”

The Australian stared at the piece of paper in her hand. The one that looked as if she’d written it on the plane as she’d poured out the emotions she’d never said aloud to her.

Alexia held it up and began to read. “To whom it may concern, this is the final correspondence of a member of the Australian Defence Force lost during active duty-”

Ridley stood, grabbing at her wrist. She misunderstood and thought she was going for the note.

“It’s mine!” She reacted before realising that she’d made a mistake. Ridley’s face was so close, they were almost touching. Softer, she whispered. “It’s mine…”

“Lex…”

“Lee,” she breathed.

One second, they were staring into each other. The next, their lips were crashing together, Ridley’s hands on her body, pulling her flush against her. Alexia extended her note hand over her shoulder, protecting it while her other buried itself in that dark, shaggy hair of hers, gripping tightly and never wanting to let go.

She moaned into her mouth, their tongues meeting and it felt like not only love, but trust.

Ridley broke away first.

“You want all of me?”

Their mouths found each other again.

“I…want…everything…” she managed to get out between Ridley’s mouth desperately moving on hers, echoing the emotions inside of her.

Ridley broke it off again, though with their foreheads pressed against one another, and the Australian tightly holding their bodies flush together.

They regained their breath like that. Eventually, Alexia pulled away and took her by the wrist, walking backwards, toward their hut.

Ridley followed, a question in her eyes.

“All of you…” Alexia murmured.

[scienceandstorytelling]

I can’t stop thinking about Will Branner’s performance as Max Jägerman and how it leads to my favorite usage of the Nightmare Time leitmotif in all the Hatchetfield musicals (and why I voted for NPMD as having my favorite title number in the poll I made a while back).

Max is a well-written character who already gives me hints of a tragic villain vibe, and then Will’s performance just fleshes that out tenfold. It features the duality Starkid has been playing a lot with in this series, where you’re sympathetic towards a character while also acknowledging the terrible things they do. Max is horrible and abusive towards his classmates and has given them years of trauma. But a teenage boy does not become a Literal Monster in a vacuum.

Alongside his role as a bully, the script gives us images of Max as someone who is struggling academically and would have probably fallen through the cracks if adults didn’t idolize him for his football prowess so they can live vicariously through him as he beats the rival town in the big game. We find out that he has a shitty dad who verbally abuses him for not being macho enough. That he probably doesn’t have all the sex people say he does. That the people he bullies hate-pranking him in revenge is “the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for [him].” And then Will’s acting keeps showing us glimpses of this goofier side of Max, glimpses of the person he might have been if he wasn’t such a bully.

And for those few moments in the aftermath of the prank, you think maybe he’s going to change now that someone has shown him what he perceives to be kindness. And then he falls through the floor and that opportunity is lost. But unlike what Mayor Lauter implies, I would argue that his fate isn’t fully sealed when he dies in the Waylon House. I think the moment of no return is when he kills Richie while the leitmotif plays.

Lots of people ship Max and Richie and have headcanons that they used to be friends, and I think it’s because of the parallels between them in this song. Here we have two 18 year old boys who have both been failed by the adults around them. Both are harmed by being stereotyped. Both are in the liminal social role of being in the process of stepping out of childhood and into living their adult lives after high school. And both of them are denied those adult lives. And then they fucking sing about it. The “will you pray for me” duet is such a powerful part of the song for many reasons, and I think it’s the moment that shows us that Max is still in the process of committing to being nothing more than a vengeful spirit, or at the very least is in the last stage of that process. The thing that strikes me the most is that Max is simultaneously trying to make Richie feel insignificant and alone while also projecting his own feelings onto him. “Is this the eternal dark without a dawn?” he asks, reaching up to the sky and not looking at Richie at all.

And what fucks me up is that Max fails in this moment. Richie is not alone. He never was, and now he’s even less alone. Not only will Pete and Ruth mourn him, so will Max’s former friends. Its so notable to me that this takes place immediately after Go Go Nighthawks, where we’ve just seen everyone, including, again, Max’s “friends,” sing about how great it is that he’s gone. It’s a real Ebeneezer Scrooge moment that makes me wonder if Max has been silently haunting the school these weeks since his death and it’s only now, having watched that, that he tips over into full villain mode. Max is the one with no one to pray for him, not Richie. And Richie basically says as much, and Max kills him anyway. Richie was doomed from the start in the sense that the show literally opens with a flashforward to his death, but I think Max is doomed too. “Don’t need no one to tell me high school will be my peak,” he says in his own introductory song. I said before how they’re both on the cusp of living their whole adult lives, but I wonder if Max had trouble seeing himself that way. He already didn’t think he would amount to anything after high school. A lot of these “peaked in high school” football star characters spend their adult lives being metaphorically stuck in high school, in their teenage years, because they can’t let themselves move on from their glory days. And here Max is, literally stuck in his teenage years forever as a ghost - but not literally stuck in high school, as we see when he follows them all to the Witchwood. When he makes he grand ghostly return he says to Richie, “I’m free!” (Free from what, Max?) He certainly has the freedom of a ghost to go anywhere and do anything. And yet he traps himself in high school. He prevents himself from moving forward. And all of that is why it makes me emotional every time when he casts aside any last chance of not being the villain and strikes the first blow on Richie, these two teenagers failed by the adults and the structures around them, their fates locked together, while the leitmotif plays and takes us back to that original line from Alice’s corpse singing to Bill about how he should have been a better father: Look what happens, nightmare time.

[slicznymartwy]

and all at once i knew

part i (request)

read it all on ao3

billy lenz x gn!reader - billy watches you kill. he could have hurt you but he doesn't because he loves you. warning: includes minor character death(s), brief suicide/self harm mention, obsessive behavior

Billy’s a stray. He’s a kicked dog. He’s going to bite and hump anything that moves. He’s been abandoned at the park, or maybe he just ran away and forgot how to get home. But you own him now. He caught your scent, and he loves you. He’s your good doggy and he’s so terrible he should be put down for what he’s done. 

He’s so loyal to you. You’re so nice to him. You rub his scalp and give him food and water. You don’t beat him. You only make him feel so so so good. He loves you so much. He could bite you. He has, but you forgive him. He loves you. He doesn’t mean it when he draws blood. He’s so lonely and cold, and you let him sleep at the foot of your bed.

You plan in the dark. Sometimes, you face each other; other times, you hold him from behind, arms wrapped around his waist. You hold hands and let your legs touch under the covers. You fix his hair when it gets messy, and he brushes an eyelash off your cheek with the pad of his thumb. 

“We’ll do it one by one, while they’re asleep,” you tell him one night, tracing the line of his nose. His eyes are closed, relishing in your touch. 

“Tie them up so they can’t fight. Stupid sluts,” he whispers a week later. He entwines your fingers together, staring at them. You think he likes seeing how close he can get to you. He watches how your body wraps around his with reverence and worship.

“We could set the house on fire. They’ll never know it was us,” you giggle, laying on top of him. His hands are on your hips, and his touch is so warm that it makes you want to take your sweater off. 

“I’ll cut off their heads if they talk to you again. I’ll saw them off and kick them like footballs,” he says darkly, drying your tears with his palm. He’s so angry you think he might kill them right then. 

When Susan left, no one thought to ask you where she went. They knew how she treated you. They all watched her mock you, and they laughed along like it didn’t make them complicit. They cried and wrung their hands while the police questioned them, and you tell Billy about it at night.

“Tonight,” he hisses, holding you down on the bed. He pins your wrists down against the mattress and he sits on top of you. Sometimes, you realize what he is. Rabid, feral, untamed. He can be mollified with fresh food and pets along his back, but he’s wild, even when he manages to speak clearly. “I’m going to kill them tonight. They’re all going to die.”

“Wait, please. One more day,” you say, trying not to look afraid. “Just hold me. Please.”

He does, but you wonder if you let him go too far. You gave him too much lead, and now you won’t get him to heel again.

Like Billy entering your bedroom in the dead of night, some changes happen so quietly you don’t realize what’s happened until it’s too late. You wake up one ordinary day, and your sisters are nice.

Maybe you’re just easier to be around, with how happy Billy makes you. Maybe they felt guilty and wanted to make amends. Maybe Susan had your sisters under an evil spell that made them act like complete cunts to you and, by killing her, you freed your housemates from her mind control. 

They laugh with you, they invite you to eat lunch with them. They still get teary eyed when they think about your missing sister, but they don’t say anything when you don’t cry. They know, and they’re sorry, and it feels good to hold that over them. 

“Billy,” you murmur at night. He moans low and quiet at the back of his throat, and the sound vibrates against your chest. You brush you hand through his hair gently. “I don’t think we should hurt them anymore.”

Billy doesn’t respond. He’s so still, you wonder if he’s asleep. 

“They’re not so mean anymore. It’s better now,” you explain. “I think they’re sorry.”

Still, Billy doesn’t respond. You pick your head up to look at him, but he’s already staring at you. His eyes are hauntingly empty of emotion. You try to smile, as placating as you can. 

“I’m sorry, Billy,” you whisper.

He turns his face towards your chest, pressing his nose against your bare sternum. He groans, but it sounds like a growl. 

“So stupid,” he mutters, sounding far away. “Stupid Bambi. Stupid slut.”

“That’s not nice,” you whisper quietly. You can feel his lips against the swell of your breast, and he kisses you like a lover. 

“Stupid. Can’t see what Billy sees. Stupid disgusting lying whores,” he says against your chest.

“I’m not stupid,” you defend yourself meekly. “Stop being mean.”

“Billy can help. Billy will help his Bambi,” he promises.

“I don’t want your help anymore, Billy,” you say, pushing at him. He doesn’t budge.

“Need Billy. Bambi needs Billy,” he mutters. You wonder if he’s even listening to you, if he’s ever listened at all.

“No, I don’t,” you say, trying instead to stand up. Billy effortlessly keeps you down. “Stop it.”

“Stop it,” he says, matching your tone. “Stop it, Billy.”

You sob out of frustration, trying to squirm out of his hold. He doesn’t let you go.

“I hate you,” you say, looking into his dark eyes. “I wish I didn’t know you.”

Billy freezes at your words. The room falls quiet. He stares at you like you’re food. 

“Something’s wrong with you,” you say, voice shaking. 

“I love you,” he finally manages to whisper.

“Leave me alone. I don’t need you,” you say, turning your face from him. You can still feel his eyes on you, they burn through you like the sun through a magnifying glass.

When you don’t say anything else, Billy stands. He stares at you from the side of the bed, and you pull your sheets up to hide your bare chest. It feels strange, hiding from someone that you’ve already shown everything. 

Billy leaves without shutting your door.

The next night, you lock it. You can hear him on the other side, twisting the knob. He rattles the door, wanting it open. Your pillow is so wet you have to turn it over to go to sleep. Your bed is so cold without him.

In the morning, the house is quiet. No one’s in the kitchen. There’s no line for the bathroom. No sounds are coming from any bedroom. There’s nobody in the house. You find some eventually, a pile of five girls in the bathtub. The tile is wet with their dark blood, so are their pajamas. You scream when you see them. Clare is on top, staring at you accusingly.

Sobbing, you fall onto your ass and kick your legs to get away. You feel like a kid again, throwing a tantrum when faced with consequences. You did this, you tell yourself, you asked for this. 

When he appears by your side, you hug him without a second thought. He cradles you in his arms on the bathroom floor and he lets you weep.

“I love you,” he whispers against the crown of your head. “I love you. I love you.”

You sob. You keep your eyes screwed shut. You can’t look at them, laying like logs for a fire. You fist your hand in Billy’s sweater, remembering what it was like to hold the knife for Susan. 

“Billy won’t leave Bambi,” he promises. It feels like a death sentence and a wedding. You’re the only two living souls in the house, and maybe the entire world. You love him because of it, but you wish you didn't.

“I need to clean before it stains,” you say, sniffling as you pull away from his chest. There’s so much blood. You wonder if there’s more in their beds, but you don’t want to know. Maybe it’ll be easier to burn it all to the ground with you and him still inside.

You find the bucket and gloves under the sink and turn on the faucet. Through the mirror, you see Billy rise and walk towards the tub. The water burns your hand and fogs the glass until you can’t see him anymore.

© slicznymartwy 2023, please do not repost or copy.

a/n: reblogs and replies are really appreciated

[yourlegacysnotyourstosee]

I took notes on my thoughts while watching Nerdy Prudes Must Die because I did the same for Black Friday

DAMN Jon said “I am a TENOR”

I literally can’t get over how good he sounds

AHHHHHH LAUREN!!!!!

Bro these songs SLAP

Damn Mariahs hair is so long

Pete is such a mood

I’m literally terrified of being pantsed so bad

BRUH NOT MICRO-PETER

Omg hey Kim

When Cory enthusiastically agrees I’m dying

Omg Max likes Grace???????

Wait that’s so cute

Wait why’s he kinda fine

“His name is Jesus Christ” HELP 💀💀💀💀💀

It’s giving Apex Predator (from Mean Girls)

Damn these HARMONIES THO

My jaw is on the floor the way Cory is talking to her

“How am I supposed to study without listening to Spotify?” ME LMFAO

I KNOW HE DID NOT JUST MAKE AN ISSAC NEWTON JOKE

The way hes like “this is about thermodynamics” me me me. I hate when people make jokes about the things we’re not even talking about.

“NANI” NO WAY HE SAID THAT HELP💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀I LITERALLY CANNOT BREATHE 💀💀💀💀💀💀

Study date????????

Joey Richter my beloved ❤️❤️❤️

When Max enters and the crowd cheers

“Rondevuch”

Max literally has a God complex

Why is Kim everyones mom?

“Walen place”?????

“Mom will you pass the butt stuff????” HELP SHES BEEN CORRUPTED

NO WAY SHES FANTASIZING ABOUT MAX JAGERMAN

LITERALLY WHAT

Awwww Grace is experiencing Catholic Guilt™ ❤️❤️❤️

Girl wdym “he’s gotta go”???

Laurens character is bisexual???????

“WAIFU MATERIAL”?????? I literally can’t get over Jons character

Wait Grace is a little fucked up actually

Wait since the Waylons built hatchetfield high and the starlight theater, could they have cursed the town somehow? Like I know about the evil brothers or whatever, but I’m not super familiar with the lore

Wait I kind of love Grace now

Mariah slays

“Am I reading as Ghost, or Lin Manuel Miranda?” AWWWWWW❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Your fucking useless Pete.” Tgwdlm???? In MY npmd???? It’s more likely than you think

I’m very suspicious about how fast they seemed to put the plan together…

I know the plan wont work and Im so nervous I’m getting secondhand embarrassment so bad rn

“Skele-ens”

I need Max Jagerman actually

Awwww Max is a Theater Kid ❤️❤️❤️

AW FUCK HE DIED

HOLY FUCK HE DIED

GIRL WTF IS WRONG WITH GRACE

I love how upbeat this song is

WHYD SHE CUT HIS NIPPLES OFF WTF

Omg Dan and Donna!

Slay Mayor Lauter

His reaction to being asked to the game is giving- “she asked me for the time” “no way” “way :D”

THE NIGHTHAWKS MASCOT 💀💀💀💀

FUCK CLIVESDALE

DAMN THEYRE IN THE SPLITS GOOD FOR THEM

I like that the football team has only 2 players

I love when actors walk through the audience, but ESPECIALLY here when hes stalking Richie bro looks so good

Listen I know he’s about to kill Richie but HES SO FINE HELP

Im literally so Gay bro

THE SMOKE CLUB!!!!!!

THE NIGHTMARE TIME THEME

When she says hes not hot anymore girl speak for yoursef

Please let Grace swear

Oh fuck they’re giving themselves away

Grace Chastity said “acab”

Cory needs more songs

MAN IN A HURRY RETURNS!!!!!

Damn who is this girl in a trenchcoat 😍😍😍

GERALD OH MY GOD

Random side note but what happened to Robert? I was just thinking about how I wish we could see Hidgens again but is Robert still a part of Starkid anymore? Is he on to Bigger and Better things? Does anyone know what those are? I’d love to continue to support him.

Edit: NVM NVM I TAKE IT BACK I DO NOT WANT TO SUPPORT ROBERT MANION NO NO NO SIR

The invisible bird. Literally high school theater

“Heahs the thang about ah bahbecue”

“Ah wawna remember who ah ayum”

Ruth is so real for not know when to do the lights bc the cue lines were wrong

Ugh Laurens voice is so good and I know ive said that about pretty much everyone but it’s true

I know shes about to die rn

The red lighting gave it away

THE WAY HE LOOKS INTO CAMERA AFTER HE KILLS HER I NEED HIM SO BAD

Why did Kim scream like that

Awww Grace has religious trauma now ❤️❤️❤️

THE COPS THEME

OH MY GOD PAUL AND EMMA!!!!!!!!!

He gave her his number❤️❤️❤️

Hot chocolate boy!!!!!!!! I knew Peter was the hot chocolate boy but still

This duet is EVERYTHING

Obsessed with the fact he called MARIAH ROSE FAITH a MEAN GIRL

“Axe wielding maniacs?”

The Waylons did not dig that shit very deep…

OH FUCK THEY HAVE TO SUMMIN THE LORDS IN BLACK

I KNEW THE WAYLONS BUILT LAKESIDE MALL

im so sorry Zombie Max is So Fine

WIGGLY

THEY HAVE HUMAN FORMS??????

“Let me check my Christmas list”

“What do you want steph?” MORE tgwdlm? In MY npmd?

I feel bad for not knowing all their names

Max says bitch a lot

Damn this show is long

Omg this is so sad im tearing up a lil

Max is so fucking funny

Damn Grace is seducing Max this is hilarious

Fuck Grace Chastity or kill some nerds? One of the many difficult decisions in life

He decides to fuck Grace Chastity

OH MY GOD THATS SO SMART

Thats some fuckin Macbeth level shit

Kims teacher character is so cute awwwww

Paul and Bill dance Chaperones??????

Oh nvm that’s Jason

I don’t think I ever mentioned it but the dancing is really good

It’s very clean and crisp

In the last 2 hours I very quickly developed a massive crush on Will Branner

OH FUCK

WHATS GOING ON

WHAT

[jaxteller87]

something new part 1

Teenage Years

The football game had just ended, and normally, I wouldn’t bother with these events, but Jax asked me to go, so how could I say no? Donna was a regular at every game, cheering for Opie, who was on the team also. Tara was there, too; she had been on the cheerleading squad the past two years, and while I may not be her biggest fan, she was really good at it.

“I know this may sound like a dumb question, but do they huddle up like that after every play?” I was relying on Donna to help me understand the game.

“Yep, pretty much. That’s when the players go over the plays and stuff like that. Sometimes, if they’re in a hurry, they do what’s called a ‘no-huddle’ offense; in that case, they just run to the line and wait for some sort of secret hand signal from the quarterback to get their assignment for the play.”

“Oh,” I pretended like I knew what she was saying.

As we waited by the tunnel, Opie finally made his way out, covered in sweat and smeared eyepaint. I felt a little awkward as they exchanged a quick kiss while I was stuck watching Jax talk with a few of the players by the cheer squad.

“Do they really gush over him like that every time?” I said softly, intending for it to be inaudible to Ope and Donna, but they both heard me.

“Yup, they do, and Jax hates every second of it,” Opie laughed.

“Really?” I asked, keeping my eyes on him. For someone who hated it, he sure seemed to like it. Smiling from ear to ear, being everyone’s friend, not that I cared per se, but it did have me feeling a little…envious, perhaps?

“Amber, seriously, don’t sweat it. I promise you, this is killing him a lot more than it’s killing you.” Opie gently nudged my shoulder.

“It’s not killing me; I just feel like maybe I’m holding him back sometimes. I mean, look at him; he looks so happy.”

Opie shook his head, “Looking happy and being happy are two totally different things.”

Before I knew it, Jax managed to sneak away from the crowd somehow, and he sought me out like a heat-seeking missile. “Amber, hey!” he beamed, noticing me with a smile.

Okay, maybe Ope was right. He seemed different with me like he was genuinely happy to see me. “Great game,” I said.

“Yeah, it was close at half-time, but we managed to pull it out at the end.”

“You were amazing out there. Have you ever thought about going pro?” I joked.

“Nah, not really. Football is just a way to pass the time in Charming and take out some frustration by legally being able to hit a few guys.”

“Aren’t you worried about getting hurt?” I could feel my face getting red. He looked hot with his jersey and shoulder pads off, standing there glistening in sweat with his long, slicked-back blonde hair.

 We became so engrossed in conversation that we forgot about Donna and Opie, who stood silently beside us while we ogled over each other.

“What?” Jax and I said in unison like two kids being caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Oh, nothing,” they both laughed.

The next day, Saturday, Jax invited me to a party he and Opie were throwing. Typically, I’d decline, but Donna convinced me to make an appearance.

“Jax, Tara! A picture for the local sports section?” a young reporter asked.

Jax had that uncomfortable look on his face, “Uh, sure, I guess.”

“Tara?” the reported gestured for her to stand next to him.

“Oh, okay,” she smiled, doing what she was told.

“Perfect! Now, smile!”

The flash lit up the room.

“This will be in tomorrow’s paper. Thanks for the picture, guys! The town loves to see the Prince and Princess of Charming after a strong home win! Great game again, Jax! Four more touchdowns, and you’re looking at the school record…”

Seated at a table in the corner, I leaned over to Donna, “What did he just call them?”

“The princess and prince of Charming. Jax lowkey hates it,” Donna laughed, watching Tara and Jax in the crowd. Donna excused herself, and I sat quietly, watching Jax mingle with the partygoers. He seemed out of place but in place at the same time. Then, Opie came by and sat beside me.

“So, out two nights in a row, aye?” he asked.

“I know, but I’ll have to head out soon. I don’t want to turn into a pumpkin,” I laughed.

“He likes you, you know.”

I sat quietly for a moment. I felt the spark between us, but for some reason, it felt forbidden. “I know, and I’m not sure why.” We watched as Jax moved through the crowd with Tara, occasionally locking eyes with me.

“You’ll make a good old lady one day,” Opie smiled.

“My hair isn’t big enough,” I smirked. Opie looked at me with a raised eyebrow; I don’t think he got the joke. “Haven’t you heard? That’s where Gemma keeps all her secrets.”

Opie laughed pretty hard once he got it. I didn’t think it was that funny, but maybe he was just trying to be nice.

“They’re not going to last. It’s just a label the whole town put on them because he’s Jax Teller, and Tara’s on the cheer squad,” Opie explained, still watching them. “If I was close to breaking a record and Donna was on the cheer squad, we’d have some cheesy nicknames like the Lord and Lady of Charming or something like that.”

“What about Gemma? She for them, too?” I asked, curious.

“Hard to tell, but I think so. You have to be outgoing for that one. If you’re not attacking life like a starving puma, you’re not trying hard enough in Gemma’s eyes.” Opie chuckled. “She’ll come around, though, especially once you guys make it more obvious. You just fit in better. Tara grew up with us.”

“I’m not going to make him choose. Is that what you’re getting at?” I said.

Opie didn’t say anything, just nodded.

“I don’t want to do that,” I added.

“The club, that’s where he’s headed. Anyone with eyes can see that,” Opie elaborated.

“I don’t think the club life is for me. Tara is more cut out for it,” I responded.

“If you’re letting the chair define who you are, Amber, stop.” Opie looked deep into my eyes, my soul even. “If you don’t get over your ‘I can’t be good enough’ attitude, then you’ll simply never be good enough. You’re a smart girl, but I feel like everybody sees how perfect you two are for each other, but you.”

He was right.

“What were you two laughing at a few minutes ago?” Jax literally appeared out of nowhere.

“Oh, nothing,” Opie laughed as Jax cracked open his beer. “Happy to see you here,” Jax smiled at me.

“Yeah, like I told Opie, I need to go soon before I turn into a pumpkin,” I said, and Jax chuckled at my joke.

“Tell him the one about Gemma’s hair,” Opie started laughing again; I think he honestly found that funny.

“What about Gemma’s hair?” Jax asked curiously.

“Oh, nothing,” I smiled. Tara joined us, so I spent time with the three of them, and it was nice – just us. Jax seemed more himself at that moment, and I felt like I knew what I had to do.

[multifandom-lesbian09]

Hey so I watched all of “My Life With the Walter Boys” today and wrote down my commentary.

“What a way to tell someone her parents are dead.”

“Ginger woman! Ginger woman!”

“You guys have nine boys, at least one of them’s gotta be gay.”

“Oh I’m so sorry, continue being upset about your… situation.”

“I would actually kill myself before I had to stay in a house with nine boys.”

“That one’s gay. I’m calling it; he has a gay haircut. If it’s not the 90’s and you have a Shawn Hunter Haircut, there is no way you’re not fruity.”

“Y’all just ran outta good names, didn’t you? Benny.”

“FARKLE? WHY IS HE WEARING FLANNEL AND PLAYING A GUITAR?”

“I’m afraid of actually liking this show. Like, that is the most Wattpad name. My Life With the Walter Boys, like… no.”

“A stable family life? You keep an emo Farkle upstairs, what about that is stable?”

“What is that shirt? Oh my god, how many of you are gay?”

“That title makes me want to do things to myself that I don’t normally want to do. Bad things.”

“You, I don’t like you, you can go die.”

“Kill yourself, that’s what I think.”

“I don’t know who she is, but she’s very pretty. I hope she ends up being gay.”

After she introduces herself and says she’s from New York. “And I’m very pretty and my parents are dead.”

“She just did the Hannah Montoya Main Character smile. I bet she wants to go lay in the road while it rains.”

“Her name is Jackie Howard, and she is froM NEW YORK BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU GET TO CALL HER NEW YORK. COLE.”

“Don’t sit her next to your girlfriend. That’s dumb. You’re dumb.”

“Oh, so you're an emo and a nerd.”

“Oh no he bought her lunch, it’s the end of my life! You’ve literally known her for a day.”

“He looks like if Sam Winchester was a Chad. And a cat.”

“You can’t look that much like Jared Padalecki and be such a DICK.”

“Yeah. Me too. But also I think that I deserve ice cream after watching that performance because it was kinda cringy.”

“What are you gonna do? Stand there and watch her eat? Go away.”

“I was gonna say that this better not be a Marcus and Ginny thing, but Marcus is superior and you can go kill yourself.”

“Why are the mediocre looking ones the ones we’re worried about? Let’s look at the Shawn Hunter looking ones.”

“Oh, so he does have a tragic backstory. Because… he can’t play football. What a terrible life he has. With his… multiple girlfriends.”

“Why did you just say oh my word? You’re a teenage girl, say fuck.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works. This has the logic of a Wattpad story, too.”

“Preppy Longstocking? Is this a Disney show?”

“OH. OH. THEY’RE GAY. I LITERALLY CALLED IT FOR BOTH OF THEM. I’M SO GOOD.”

“You’re becoming friends! And that’s really good because I love your face.”

“Bro said he peaked his sophomore year…”

“NO, STOP. NATHAN NO.”

“NO. WHAT THE HELL GUYS. THIS IS YOUR FAULT, COLE, THIS IS WHY I DON'T LIKE YOU.”

“Your brother… and your friend… is in the HOSPITAL. So why don’t we go SEE HIM? Stop MAKING OUT.”

“OH THEY KISSED. OH MY GOD YAAaaaaAAAaY.”

“Yes, she’s holding her banana up to you. Because she’s choosing you.”

About how it shouldn’t have taken Will and Haley breaking up for him to realize she’s more important than any job… “No, it shouldn’t have.” *starts singing Just Give Me a Reason*

“Yes! Jesus Christ, I’ve been telling you people to go to the courthouse since the first episode and you didn’t LISTEN TO ME.”

After Skylar and Nathan kiss “Literally I’m so happy that they’re together. I knew he was the gay one.”

“Screw all of you guys for getting me invested in this show.”

“Who’s Morgan, and why are we ignoring her?”

Reading the note that Cole wrote Jackie “nothing is broken that can’t be fixed…” *starts singing Just Give Me a Reason: the sequel*

When Jackie and Cole are making out “STOP. STOP THAT YOU DUMB FUCKS YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T DO THAT! THIS CAN'T BE A REPEAT ARE YOU SHITTING ME?”

“No, because she’s in the wherever with Cole. Because it happened again, because Cole’s a dick. A DICK, I SAY.”

When Jackie is on the plane back to NY “Really? Really? Really? Really? Really? REALLY? You dicks.”

[jacquelinemerritt]

Dragon Ball Z: Abridged Episode 44 Review

Originally posted April 22nd, 2016

Indulgence abounds.

In my review of “Cell Service,” I mentioned that Cell got most of the best jokes in that episode. That’s certainly true, but it’s also a bit of an understatement; Cell was the funniest and most entertaining character in “Cell Service,” and “Cell Reception” takes his character a step further, still relying on him for the best jokes in the episode while expanding the appeal of his charismatic psychosis.

We get to watch as Cell devours a group of fifties-inspired football players, debates with an imaginary virgin city about his plans to devour her, and tears through that city as his destruction is paralleled by the obnoxious samples and sound effects of the local radio hosts, TJ and The Wombat.1

In each of these scenes, Takahata101 brings an infectious energy to Cell that strikes the perfect balance between disgusting and awe-inspiring, while also arguably keeping him grounded; sure, Cell is on a sociopathic quest for perfection, but he’s also petty and emotional, literally getting into a shouting match with a car horn because he doesn’t want to move out of the way of a bus driver. When combined with Cell’s friendly antagonism towards Piccolo in “Cell Service,” he becomes a genuinely affable character who, sure, indulges in petty violence and disregard for others, but is just choosing to fully indulge in his worst tendencies because, let’s face it, they’re fun to indulge in.

Like the spoiled megalomania of Freeza or the compensating egoism of Vegeta, Cell represents our worst qualities without misrepresenting how enjoyable they are to indulge in, and in this way, Team Four Star channels the spirit of Martin Scorsese, letting us indulge in our worst tendencies without shying away from how ugly they can truly be.

The theme of indulgence carries over to the rest of the scenes too: Vegeta yells at Trunks that he “is the hype” after Trunks attempts to challenge his ego, Tien willingly goads Vegeta’s anger despite his tendencies for violent outburst, and Trunks and Krillin make their own sound effects as they shoot lasers (the only innocent pleasure reveled in during this episode).

Even an unconscious Goku indulges himself in a dream sequence that places him as the protagonist in an imagined One Piece Abridged and Naruto Abridged series, which is both a clever jab at obnoxious fans who’ve demanded Team Four Star abridge those other incredibly popular anime, and a sly condemnation of Goku, who chooses to enjoy this dream despite the pleading of Piccolo Zoro2 to wake up and help them in the battle against the Androids.

The scene still revels in the fun of the dream sequence though, and the only scene that actually questions this indulgence is when Trunks brings up the morality of killing a fetal version of Cell. This question is quickly diffused by Krillin, who dismisses the idea that Cell’s potential rights are worth considering, simply because it means he’ll finally get to kill a legitimate threat.

This is probably still morally the best decision, which Krillin points out in his justification to Trunks, but it ultimately comes down to Krillin’s desire to actually exert some power. And really, given everything Krillin’s had to go through over the course of this series, I can’t blame him for that in the slightest.

Rating: 5/5

If you enjoyed this review, consider supporting me on Patreon.

Stray Observations

1I want to say that Cell’s musical motif is expanded when he calls for them to play “Video Killed the Radio Star,” too, but it seems to me that it was selected solely for the irony of Cell killing radio hosts while it plays, as there’s very little thematic relation between the song’s message and Cell’s character.

2This is itself a clever joke too, referencing the shared voice actor the dubs of One Piece and Dragonball Z had in Christopher Sabat, who played both Piccolo and Zoro. What? I know some things about original anime. By osmosis… Okay, I only know this because I overheard a friend mention it once, but still!

Cell: “So, South City is to the North, North City is to the West, and East City is… also to the North.”

Bus Driver: “I am now going to start applying the horn. I am now going to use it again. I will now continue to use the horn until you politely move!”

Tien: “What are you going to become, a mega-Saiyan? Ultra-Saiyan? Maximum Over-Saiyan!”

Krillin: “I’m dropping the pretense; we’re aborting Cell.”

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Familiar Faces - Interlude Grayson and John

Summary of this AU: Elijah Gilbert has been haunted by dreams of other lives as long as he remembers, but now with the appearance of the Salvatore brother he may finally get some answers.

Not sure where this came from but thought I'd share, currently plotting out the events later on in the time line and what going on in MF vs NOLA.

If Elijah knew he'd look back at the time he was stopping Damon from killing Zach and miss it, he'd likely set everything on fire.

Anyway back to a even brighter time.

----

John and Grayson watched the kids on the lawn as the twins ran through the latest routine. Miranda was inside getting the kids a drink with Jenna likely gossiping about Jenna's love life.

John had missed the twins turning sixteen as so had arrived a month late, asking them to show him what they had leaned since he had last visited.

Cheerleading had been a natural choice for Elena, part to follow Miranda's footsteps and part to keep doing things alongside Bonnie and Caroline.

Grayson hadn’t been as happy with Elijah's choice, first to follow along and then to take an interest in gymnastics properly. Copying his sister and her friends had been fine as children but doing the same into high would have made Elijah a easy target for bullies, something he had been worried about already as he saw his son being pushed to the sidelines by the assumption that Tyler and Matt would be joining the football team. 

But his wife and Elijah had both made it clear he wasn’t joining the team, Elijah pointing out his episodes would mean he’d miss some games which would cause more trouble but being part of the cheer team meant they could just not include him for the final routines, while he still went to practice with the girls, even if it meant he was only acting as a spotter. 

He had asked Elijah why he was so interested in it.

“It’s mine” Elijah had explained, “in the way the instruments aren’t, they’re calming but like I already know them, gymnastics and the routines are new, I have to work at them.”

Elijah could’ve been a prodigy with his natural ability with all the instruments they had tried but he visibly became quickly bored or uncomfortable when he spent too long with them, the best they had got for him to enjoy them was when he started to play his siblings latest favourite on his instruments.

So Grayson and Mirandra had gotten used to listening to Elijah play ‘Linkin park’ and others on his piano to Elena’s and Jeremy’s amusement instead of the classic composers, it was all fine as long as their kids were happy.

Once he had agreed Miranda had insisted on hiring a proper instructor which he had also agreed with to Elijah’s annoyance, to make sure Elijah knew everything he needed to stop himself from accidentally hurting someone else or himself.

Elijah landed a backward somersault to Jeremy and Elena’s cheers, he smiled towards his son as Elijah looked up, as John clapped beside him.

He watched as Elena called Jeremy over and the pair started to instruct him how to act as their spotter, he felt himself tense as he always did when they started doing this.

“He’s good.” John complemented, “Healthy, you’d never have expected this after his episodes.”

Elijah looked a normal healthy teenager, only noticeably leaner when standing besides Matt and Tyler and in the last year he had managed to out grow Tyler slightly.

But he had been born worryingly smaller that Elena and while he grew, the episodes in the early years of his life and slowed him down from catching up.

“They still happen.” he sighed, even he couldn’t tell if they had lessened as Elijah had grown or his son had learnt to hide how much they affected him.

“Your research-” his brother started and he could already see where it was going.

“John.” The name came out a little too sharp but it shut his brother up, “I sat beside him in the hospital bed for nights after we tried the blood.” he reminded him “It didn't just fail to make a difference, it made it worse. Listening as he begged in his sleep, as he cried in languages he shouldn’t know.”

Jeremy helped Elena climb onto Elijah’s shoulder, his daughter raised her arms above her head with a bright smile, kept steady by Elijah’s hands on her calves. 

“His magic-” John started, but he cut him off again.

“He’s learned enough to keep control, Shelia will keep watch over him in case it becomes a problem.” Grayson explained. Elijah had about as much interest in learning more about becoming a witch as he did the classical composers. He learned enough to ensure he wasn’t a danger and nothing else.

Grayson sighed in relief as Elena returned to the ground with Elijah’s help, but he kept up a proud smile, even if it raised his heart rate it was good to see them all together, the twins had always been great with keeping Jeremy involved.

“He needs to be prepared, they do.“ John told him again, the words kept from the children by his clapping.

Grayson hated the reminder, he didn’t want any of his children facing the supernatural, he wanted to them stay innocent of the monsters of the world. 

Elena and Elijah both wanted to help people and they could by following him in becoming a doctor, but he didn’t want them to follow his other path, Elijah had enough nightmares already and the idea of an episode striking when he was facing one of them would be a death sentence.

“Elijah doesn’t need the added burden when we don’t know what is causing his episodes.” he shook his head as he confessed.

Grayson had no intention of showing either of the twins the Gilbert journals and he had made sure the Augustine Society knew to leave Elijah alone, he wouldn’t trust some of those at the society not to experiment on Elijah's adverse reaction to the blood.

Grayson did his brother a favour and ignored the fact John visibly relaxed once he knew the twins would be spared their family traditions, instead he swallowed his own guilt at only planning to place that weight on his youngest’s shoulders.

—--

When John to Mystic falls after his brother’s death he’s not expecting for the founder’s council to know about Elijah’s magic and to inform him that his nephew-son was standing in their way to remove the vampires.

He blames the Salvatore brothers, for endangering the twins and breaking his brother’s wish to spare them from knowing everything.

[angelasscribbles]

Monday Night Football

Original Work. Flash Fiction. Micro Fiction. Short Fiction.

Word Count: 835

This was from a writing prompt that was just: Monday Night Football. But of course, my mind had to bring magic into it. Because magic that's why.

Find more of my flash-fiction here.

The ball was up! She watched as it spiraled perfectly across the field and fell into the hands of the waiting running back. The catch was good, he took off down the field as a player from the opposing team threw himself on him for the sack.

Gretchen leaned forward in her seat on the 50-yard line, barely breathing. No one else would have noticed the slight shimmer in the air around them as the running back twisted his body and practically flew out of his opponent’s grasp. The other man hit the ground hard and rolled harmlessly away as the man with the ball leapt out of his grasp and sprinted toward the goal.

Leaning back in her seat she breathed out a sigh of relief. At long last, she had found him. He would not escape her this time.

She shook her head as she marveled at the audacity of using magic in front of the whole world. That was the type of thing that would get them all outed, start another witch hunt, and get them all killed.

That’s exactly why it was illegal. The council of Witches, Warlocks, and Other Magical Beings (WWOMB) had expressly outlawed using magic in the presence of humans.

She left her seat and slipped quietly into an empty corner in the stadium hallway. Opening her compact, she waved her hand over the mirror and the WWOMB chairwoman appeared.

“Yes, Gretchen?”

“I found him!” She practically squealed.

“We are dispatching a team to your location now.” The chairwoman nodded curtly then disappeared as the compact turned back into a regular mirror.

Turning, she bumped into someone. Annoyed, she glanced up as she murmured an unfelt apology. When the person she had collided with neither responded nor moved, she looked up ready to give him a piece of her mind.

The words died on her lips as she gazed up at him! Oh no, no, no, no! This was not good! If she messed up another case, she was definitely getting kicked off the council’s investigative team. This could be the end of her career in magical law enforcement.

“Azazel! How….I mean……”

“How did I know you were here?” He smiled down at her with a brilliance that she was sure melted women’s hearts all the time. But she couldn’t get distracted by that right now.

“Uh..yeah, how did you know?”

“You just used a mirror communication spell in a public place. And you want to arrest me for doing the same? The council is full of hypocrites.”

“No, it’s not the same, I found a private place—“

“You call this private?” He asked gesturing to the people milling all around, “Anyone could walk up on you while you were using magic. I just did.”

She felt confusion sweep over her. He was right. She used magic in public all the time; she was just good at disguising it. Like he had disguised his use, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. No, it wasn’t the same, he was on national television for Pete’s sake!

She opened her mouth to tell him that when suddenly he grabbed her and kissed her. For a moment the floor fell out from under her. The building full of people disappeared, the council, her worry about her career, all of it just vanished.

When she came back down to earth, she stared up at him like he had lost his mind, “What the hell was that for?”

“Shhhh!” He said, grabbing her hand as he looked past her. She followed his gaze to see the team of magic users the council had dispatched.

“They’re heading toward the locker room, of course.” He breathed as he pulled her in the other direction.

“Wait! What are you doing? I’m on their side!” She protested, pulling her hand away from him.

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, “Your sister wasn’t. I know where she is. Come with me, I can explain everything.”

Her sister? How did he know about Lila?

“You know my sister? Where is she?” Gretchen demanded

 “I can take you to her. The council is wrong about everything. Come with me, I can prove it. Please!”

She hesitated for a moment. Glancing back toward the backs of the extraction team, she felt her resolve waver. Her sister! Lila had disappeared when Gretchen was still in high school, no one, not even her parents would tell her where Lila had gone or why. Could she really be a part of the resistance? The very thing that Gretchen had pledged her life to fight against? How could she go with him?

How could she not? She had to know.

What the hell was wrong with her? In a move she knew would be not only career suicide but possibly land her on the exact wrong side of the council, she nodded and took his hand. They ran down the hall together, away from the extraction team and toward her future.

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Rage: Carrie 2 (1999)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Why someone would make a sequel to 1976’s Carrie 23 years after the original, I don't know. Even if this had been released at the right time (if such a thing as a right time existed) this is a lazily-conceived, badly made film. The climax is more likely to leave you in hysterics than shivering in terror.

In 1999, outcast Rachel (Emily Bergl) hates life at home thanks to her unloving foster parents. After her best friend Lisa (Mena Suvari) commits suicide, Rachel learns a popular football jock, Eric (Zachery Ty Bryan), feigned love for the dead girl so he could sleep with and then dump her to impress his friends. All the football players are partaking in this game, even the seemingly sweet Jesse (Jason London), on whom Rachel has a crush.

I've omitted two details about this plot to show you how much of a sequel to Carrie it isn’t. The entire film could easily play out without these, leading me to believe (though I can’t prove it) it was written as some other movie and then reworked to tie into the 1976 Brian De Palma film. Technically, The Rage is a follow-up. Amy Irving returns as Sue Snell, now an adult guidance counsellor for Rachel's school. That’s a detail. The real reason this is “a sequel”? Rachel. The young woman has the the same telekinetic powers as Carrie did. With that said, I bet you can predict the entire movie now. The film’s villains are essentially the Spur Posse. Rachel’s going to fall in love with one of them, they’ll have sex, his buddies will ruin everything by telling Rachel it was all a facade, unleashing her titular rage upon them. Cue the blood bath until TRAGEDY! Turns out the love was real. Too bad loads of people are now dead. Too bad for Rachel, I mean. We couldn’t care less about the teens who bit the dust.

While it would’ve left you feeling like you just took a bath in a bucket of grease, this picture might’ve sucessfully told its revenge plot if it had played things smartly. You instantly hate the bad guys so you’re somewhat endeared to Rachel. Unfortunately, writer Rafael Moreau and director Katt Shea fumble this project. Over and over, we're shown clips of the 1976 film. What do they mean? Rachel wasn’t there. These aren’t her memories. Sue wasn’t there either - she left the deadly party before the carnage began. They're included to assure us that there will be blood later and because this film knows otherwise, everyone would leave. While we wait, the picture goes into needless details about Rachel’s powers, explaining their origin in a way that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Picture this. Rachel is going to the jock’s post-graduation party. They’re getting ready to dump this film’s equivalent of a bucket of blood on her when they broadcast the secret footage of her and Jesse having sex for everyone to see. Counsellor Sue has been picking away at this nagging feeling that something’s not right with the teenager. She’s found the girl’s insane mother, broken her out of Arkham Asylum and is bringing her to the party so Rachel can understand why she has mutant powers. As they approach the door, Rachel hurls a fire poker at a schoolmate, impaling him through the head. In the process, she kills Sue. The woman’s death is accidental so it doesn’t tell us anything about how intensely Rachel’s rage burns. Left to her own devices, mom barges into the chaotic house to explain to her daughter what’s happening. Too bad the characters haven’t spoken in 13 years. They're lucky they knew who was who! The exchange that follows means NOTHING because their connection isn't emotional, it's technical.

No fan of the original Carrie could watch The Rage and be satisfied with it. No one who hasn’t seen the original should watch this movie instead. The Rage: Carrie 2 is a picture without an audience. It’s got some unintentionally funny moments towards the end when the gore and violence are supposed to appall us but you’ll have checked out long before then. (On VHS, March 5, 2020)

[azertyrobaz]

Valentine’s Brew Chapter 2 / 2

It was Winta in the end who had to spell it out for them when she told her they would be out with Din this particular evening.

“Well, yeah, I figured, it’s Valentine’s day.”

Omera had looked up towards Din who was in the process of cutting Hadi’s food at the time, and the blank expression he gave her told her everything she needed to know. He’d forgotten. They’d both completely forgotten.

************

Fourth part in the Coffee Shop AU series! It’s Valentine’s day, they have all planned to go out at this fancy new restaurant, what could possibly go wrong?

Read below or on ao3.

Chapter 1

************

It was close to midnight when Din and Omera arrived home. They’d kept Ahsoka abreast of the situation via text while they were being held back at the Italian restaurant to give their statement, but they still found her watching the local news on TV, a very much awake Winta sitting next to her.

“Mom! Din!” the thirteen-year old exclaimed, rushing to their side to give them each a hug.

“Sorry,” Ahsoka said. “She wanted to stay up. Hadi’s asleep though, I promise.”

“That’s okay,” replied Omera, hugging her daughter back just as hard.

“You’re good, right?” the girl made sure, and Din squeezed her shoulder with a nod when it was his turn to receive her hug.

“We’re all good, only the Sheriff got hurt and it wasn’t serious, he’s still over there with law enforcement.”

“What happened?” Winta asked, wanting to get their version of events. “They’re not saying a lot on the news.”

They all stared at the screen and listened to what the journalist was saying. It was weird to see the restaurant they had just left in the background of the shot. The local TV channels had set up a perimeter fast, and Din hoped they would leave just as quickly once they realized there was not much information to glean just yet. This was only an attempted robbery and the perpetrators bad been arrested at the scene. Slow news day, he guessed.

“Nevarro’s peacefulness was shattered tonight – ” the blonde woman said, and Din rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh.

“We should all go to bed,” Omera resolved, looking for the remote.

“But I wanna keep watching!” Winta urged. “Is Paz okay? I thought he’d be with you, they said on the news that the local high school football coach helped in the arrest. That was Paz, right?”

The adults looked at each other silently. Winta was more affected than they had realized and sending her to bed wouldn’t fix anything, no matter how tired they all were.

“Maybe we can just switch off the TV and talk about it,” Ahsoka suggested, and didn’t wait for Winta’s reply before she reached for the remote Omera had been looking for and killed the image. “They don’t know much anyway, like you said.”

Winta frowned, but Ahsoka was good at making any suggestion sound not only reasonable, but also preferable – Din guessed it was because she was used to dealing with dozens of toddlers on a daily basis.

“And I’m going to give Peli a call – she should be home with Paz and Bo, you can talk to them too if you want,” Omera added and her daughter shrugged. She was looking at Din intently. It was on him now, and she trusted him.

“What happened?” she repeated.

And so Din sat on the couch in front of the blank TV screen, and recounted everything to Winta while her mother called Peli. He didn’t skip any detail and Ahsoka perched on an armchair next to them to listen to the eventful dinner. They took a small break for her to say a few words to Peli and Paz, but he knew she would have more questions for him afterwards.

All the while, Din hoped that the one, tiny, irrelevant detail he had omitted – the one and only – wouldn’t come to life, but up until then he’d done a good job hiding the issue.

“Peli said they still don’t know why they tried to rob the restaurant,” Winta sighed after she’d hung up.

“A police investigation takes time,” her mother reminded her.

“But it’s not like it was a bank, there probably wasn’t that much money. People mostly pay with cards, don’t they? That’s what they do in Sorgan anyway.”

And Din knew she had a point there, and that this simple explanation might have worked a few years ago, but not now that she was older.

“Yes,” he agreed. “They do. Which is why the Sheriff thought it wasn’t the first time they tried that. It was just the first time they got caught.”

“They said on TV it might be ‘in connection with a string of robberies in the region’, is that what you mean?” she repeated verbatim, telling them she was taking this very seriously. Probably too seriously.

“It’s possible,” he replied, then looked up towards Omera, but she wasn’t giving him the kind of look that would have made him drop the subject. She agreed Winta was old enough to hear about it, and that the more they discussed it, the better she would feel about the whole situation.

“So it’s just for money?”

“Well, the Sheriff also had a theory about this,” Din said, deciding he could disclose that, too. “But keep in mind it’s just that, a theory, that’s why they’re not talking about it yet on the news, and maybe they never will.”

“Okay,” Winta nodded, sitting up, focused. 

“Vanth believes the robberies taking place in the region were all orchestrated by one person, a crime boss named Cad Bane who’s been attempting to aggressively take over businesses.”

“I read about him,” Ahsoka said, captivated as well. They’d had a lot of time to kill at the restaurant earlier while the police interviewed everyone and had decided to look up what they could on the Internet about the potential mastermind behind the aborted robbery.

“So a bit like in The Sopranos, it’s intimidation to scare the owners into letting him launder his money or something?” Winta reasoned.

“Y-yes,” Din agreed, taken aback by the quickness of her mind. He was tired. He hurt everywhere. He just wanted to go to bed. But he couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that this kid had used a TV show to make sense of everything. He wasn’t just tired, he was old, that was the problem.

“You’re letting Winta watch The Sopranos?” Ahsoka asked with raised eyebrows. But there was a smile there.

“I wanted to watch The Wire but Din said no, so we compromised,” the young teen explained.

“And you’re okay with this?” the daycare manager next directed at Omera, who shrugged.

“She loves it, and the deal was for Din to handle the potential nightmares and all her questions, and it’s been working great, it’s a good show.”

“I didn’t have any nightmare,” Winta huffed.

No nightmares, no. But the questions. Dear God, the questions that kid could ask. But Din had only himself to blame for that one – he’d wanted to catch up on old shows he had missed but also spend time with Winta and it had seemed like the perfect compromise, like she had said. If there was one thing he had never thought he would get when he returned to Nevarro – apart from a son and a girlfriend, obviously – it was someone to enjoy DVDs with during the Winter weekends when the weather was too miserable to do anything else. One in the shape of a precocious thirteen-year-old girl, no less.

“And I wanna watch The Godfather and Scarface next, Paz said they were unmissable.”

“You’ll have to wait a couple of years for those, I told you already,” Din reminded her. Paz was a terrible influence. And yet still his best friend. Somehow.

“I think I’ve heard enough, I’m gonna go home now,” Ahsoka laughed, standing up.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” said Din.

“And I’ll go check on Hadi,” Omera added. She exchanged a look with Din, one that told him she needed that last thing before she felt in the right mindset to attempt sleep herself. He nodded in complete understanding – he’d meant to do the same before turning in.

“Can I check the news one last time to see if – ”

“No,” Din and Omera said at the same time, and the girl rolled her eyes but didn’t insist. She walked upstairs with her mom and Ahsoka made for the foyer.

“Thanks again for looking after the kids, and sorry we got back so late,” he felt compelled to add as she put on her winter boots.

“My pleasure, and it turned out to be quite an eventful evening!”

“Yeah,” Din sighed. He couldn’t wait for it to be finally over.

“And to be honest I needed a change of scenery, and it was exactly what I needed.”

She’d now put on both her shoes and her jacket but neither of them had attempted to reach for the door handle yet.

“Omera mentioned something like that,” Din said, wondering if she wanted to broach the subject at all with him. Surely he wasn’t in the best position to help or offer support – that was more Omera’s thing. And yet she surprised him with her next question.

“Were you scared? The first time the army sent you overseas?”

“You’re worried because Trace is leaving in a couple of weeks,” Din realized – that was why she’d wanted to talk to him about it.

Trace, whom he’d only met a couple of time but liked very much, was an army avionic mechanic. She was usually stationed not too far from here at Fort Carson, but she was part of a battalion which would soon be shipped for a three-month rotation in Syria.

“Of course I’m worried. But she keeps saying she’s fine and all we do at the moment is fight and I hate that we can’t seem to communicate.”

“It’s her job,” Din reminded her gently. “And it won’t be the first time she sees combat.”

“So you were never scared?”

“I didn’t say that. I just – ” And here he had to think about his words carefully because it was still something he had a hard time talking about, or even wrapping his head around. But really there was no mystery there. “It was only ever about me, no one else. It’s easier to hide your fear when there’s no one around to see it. Or no one to share that fear with, I guess.”

“But she won’t talk about it, and I don’t want to be that person and I don’t want to force her, and I know she’s good at her job and I trust her to be careful, but I can tell it’s slowly destroying what we have and she knows that. So it’s just one argument after another at the moment,” she exhaled deeply, the words flowing out of her rapidly yet costing her.

“It freaked me out the first time I came home from work with a black eye after an incident during practice and Omera yelled at me,” he recalled. It had made no sense to him then. Same thing when he got his concussion over Thanksgiving. And as he stroked his arm and felt the sting there, being careful not to press too much to prevent his makeshift bandage from revealing the injury he had done his best to hide until now under his thankfully dark shirt, he was aware that it would happen again. But this time he knew why. This time he’d figured it out. And that knowledge filled him with warmth instead of dread.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t think we’re all equally equipped to recognize that sometimes when people seem angry with us it’s actually because they care. Maybe Trace is like me. Maybe you keep fighting because she thinks that’s the only thing this is – a disagreement.”

Ahsoka stood very still, her eyes fixed on the wall right behind him. And then a slow, barely there smile graced her lips.

“Okay,” she replied simply, and finally reached for the door. “You should get that cut on your arm looked at, it seems deep.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledged.

“Thank you,” she said one last time on the doorstep as cold air rushed in. Din nodded, and hoped what he’d shared with her would make a difference, even if it hadn’t felt like much.

“And thank you for agreeing to look after them again next month,” he remembered to add – that discussion had been one of the reasons why he had been late arriving to the restaurant earlier, but hopefully it would be worth it when he announced his plan to Omera.

He found her in the kitchen, Hadi in her arms. The boy was wide awake and overjoyed to see him. Omera on the other hand looked remorseful.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “It’s all my fault, I wasn’t quiet enough when I entered his room and I woke him up. And now he wants some chocolate milk,” she explained, handing him the pleased toddler while she rummaged in the fridge for the promised treat he knew the little boy had been masterful at conning out of her.

“Baba!” he beamed.

“You should be sleeping, Hadi,” Din sighed.

“Choccy milk,” his son informed him instead.

“Then back to bed,” he conceded while Omera poured him the promised glass.

They both sat at the counter, Hadi in his arms while he drank his milk, both too tired to make any kind of conversation and yet both aware that same as for Winta, it would actually help to talk about things.

In the end, it was Hadi who unsurprisingly pushed them in that direction. Almost literally.

The boy had been slowly going back to sleep after having his full, and Din had been hard pressed to get up and put him back to bed just yet as he was enjoying his warm, reassuring weight against his chest, Omera equally at peace next to him, when an uncoordinated jerk made him recoil and wince.

“What’s wrong?” Omera asked, immediately on her guard as Din moved the boy in his arms so that he wouldn’t press against that spot on his forearm anymore.

“Nothing,” he tried, but it was no use – Omera had seen the tear in his shirt and the paper towels he had packed in his sleeve to stop the bleeding.

“She cut you with that knife,” she realized. “I knew it.”

“Omera – ” he attempted again as she stood up.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was going to after I put Hadi back to bed.”

“Go do that right now, how deep is it? Do you need stitches? Show me,” Omera insisted, rolling down his sleeve slowly and removing the tissues.

“Not that deep,” Din tried to reassure her, hiding another wince.

“It’s still bleeding,” she remarked, unconvinced.

“I just need some steri-strips.”

“I’ll grab them and the first aid kit, go put Hadi to bed,” she resolved, and didn’t wait for his answer as she made her way to the bathroom.

Din closed his eyes and hugged the little boy but did as she’d suggested. Hadi barely stirred as he pulled his comforter around him and placed his favorite plushies by his pillow for easy access. Maybe tomorrow he’d keep him home in the morning. He wasn’t working until the afternoon and it felt like forever since they had a quiet moment just the two of them. Soon it would be impossible to do something like that. Life was going by way too fast and it scared him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to worry you,” he told Omera as she watched him disinfect the spot on his forearm then hand him the steri-strips wordlessly to close the wound. It was barely three inches long but that blade had been sharp. He hadn’t felt anything when it happened and then when he saw the tear in his shirt and the blood, they’d been busy answering questions and it had seemed unnecessary to say anything.

“I’ll always worry.”

“I know,” he acknowledged.

“And I hate that the Sheriff put you in that position, you shouldn’t have to do his job for him and he should have called for backup.”

“He didn’t have much time to decide,” Din shrugged, even if he agreed with her. “It worked out well in the end.”

“Yeah, and he got to play the hero,” she huffed as he finally rolled gauze around the cut. He was done. It had barely taken five minutes.

“Him and Paz,” he reminded her with a smile. “He was clearly enjoying himself, too.”

“You’re the one they should thank. You’re the one they should have interviewed on TV.”

“But I don’t want any of that. And you’re the one who said at Christmas that Cobb should find a way to make himself more popular in Nevarro. Well, there’s his chance. He’ll be all over the news for a few days.”

“‘Local Sheriff saves the day’,” she mocked, but looked mollified as she grabbed his hands in hers.

“‘Local Sheriff and football coach’,” he corrected her. “Sounds a lot better than ‘Local athletic trainer and hopeful high school math teacher’, that would have been a mouthful.”

“Former army Major,” she joked, moving closer to him, since she knew how much titles annoyed him.

“Even worse, and Greef wouldn’t let me hear the end of it,” he grumbled.

“Former QB1,” she whispered against his chest.

“Now that one I wouldn’t mind too much,” Din admitted, holding her tightly against him. She exhaled deeply and he closed his eyes, the familiar smell of her hair exactly what he’d needed to feel centered again.

“Tonight was a lot,” she said a few seconds later, and he nodded in agreement.

“And I didn’t even have time to give you your gift yet.”

“You have a gift for me?” she marveled. “Other than not dying from blood loss?”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I know, now come on, what’s my gift?” she urged, looping her arms around him loosely and staring up at him.

“Greef is letting us use his house in the Keys next month. I can get cheap tickets with my military ID card and I thought we could go lie on a beach somewhere and do nothing for a few days for your birthday.”

“What about the kids? Are they coming with us?”

“I already spoke with Paz, Bo, Ahsoka and Peli and they’d be happy to take care of them.”

“You’ve been busy,” she realized and Din shrugged. She still hadn’t said yes but he could see that the idea of a break somewhere sunny appealed to her. Especially since Sorgan would have to be closed during that time anyway for part of the renovations to take place.

“You sure you’re going to be okay away from Hadi?” she pointed out gently, and it had indeed more than crossed his mind that the separation wouldn’t be easy for either of them, but it was probably time they did something about it.

“He’ll be with Winta,” he reasoned. “And it will only be for a few days.”

“What if we fall in love with the place and don’t want to come home?”

“Well, I’m sure Greef will agree to let me use the house again. And maybe we can even take the kids one day, too.”

“That sounds like a plan,” she agreed easily.

“Let’s see how our camping trip goes this summer first,” he reminded her. They intended to go visit a national park or two then spend time with her sister Maya’s family in Phoenix.

Omera nodded and hugged him again, her movements sluggish but her warmth appreciated.

“Bed?” he asked.

She nodded again.

“What about my gift?” he joked as they slowly made their way upstairs, his speech slurring and the memory of the robbery finally at the very back of his mind.

“I’ll show you tomorrow,” she promised, her tone one that immediately made him regret he was so tired.

************

Omera had just opened up when the Sheriff showed up. His arm was in a sling and Peli had mentioned that the wound was actually more serious than they had thought at first but somehow he’d never looked happier. Din had been right – he was the town’s hero and he loved every second of it. He’d gradually managed to convince her that no matter what had happened, Cobb deserved it, and they should let him enjoy this moment of fame. After all, they were now closer to apprehend a famous mobster thanks to him. Paz on the other hand had quickly gotten fed up with the attention,  and this had been equally as entertaining to watch unfold.

Still, she thought the Sheriff could have attempted an apology earlier. It had been almost a week since the robbery. Because there was no other way to interpret the contrite look on his face right now.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been there sooner,” he announced as she started working on his coffee. “It’s been crazy at the station.”

“I can imagine,” she replied levelly.

“How’s Djarin? Peli told me he got injured too? I had no idea.”

“You should ask him when you see him.”

Din had complained when Omera let Peli know about the cut on his arm. Of course he had. But she was never going to let that slide. Cobb might have counted on Paz’s imposing size and Din’s military background on that night, but he should have called for backup.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, and looked like he meant it. “I behaved like a cowboy.”

“You did,” she agreed, and he nodded. Omera had to admit that it felt good to hear it said out loud. She might still not like it, but as far as apologies went this one was pretty good.

She finished preparing his drink in silence then slid the to-go cup on the counter towards him.

“That’s not an americano,” he realized with a frown. The Sheriff had never ordered or tried anything else, which was why he hadn’t bothered telling her what he wanted earlier. But Omera had decided otherwise.

“No, it’s a revisited cappuccino, you should try it,” she informed him. “Because heroes don’t drink americanos, it’s really a terrible drink.”

Cobb looked at her and picked up his cup. Omera tried not to smile.

[thej320]

Week 5: "Hoops and Hopes"

Focusing on Racial and Cultural Representation in Women's Sports, as well as Class Structures in Sports.

Let’s talk about something cool happening in women’s sports right now. Imagine the energy at a college basketball game, the crowd cheering, and there in the midst of all the action, Kaitlyn Chen of Princeton’s basketball team killing it on the court. What’s unique here? Kaitlyn is an Asian American leading the way in a space where, let’s be honest, diversity isn’t the first thing that pops into everyone’s head. When Kaitlyn started as a freshman, she was the only Asian American on the team. She took her team to the NCAA tournament three times and is a part of the most diverse team Princeton has ever had (Wright). Kaitlyn Chen is dribbling her way not just through defenses, but through stereotypes too .

Then, there's the amazing story of players in the NCAA tournament who are showing up in their hijabs (Raleigh, 2024). Yep, that's right. These Muslim athletes are not just there to compete; they're also setting new standards and challenging the norms of what an athlete looks like in women’s sports. This is pretty huge because it's not just about sports; it’s about representing your culture and beliefs on big platforms. So, why does all this matter? It’s simple, really. Every time a young girl watching these games sees someone who looks like her, talks like her, or prays like her, she gets that little voice in her head saying, “Hey, I can do that too!”Janna Eissa, a player for N.C. State says “If they see someone giving them hope, I’m happy that I’m the person to give it to them. I want to make it as far as I can for the image of women in hijabs.” But it's not just about feeling good. Representation in sports can stir up serious conversations about inclusivity and respect across different cultures.

How class structure can dictate what sport you play

Jumping into another big issue - class in sports. Have you ever noticed how the sports someone plays can sometimes scream their social class? You might see the upper crust swinging golf clubs on lush greens while the lower class kids from tougher neighborhoods are duking it out in boxing rings or butting heads on the football field. Taylor Hall says, "Social class largely defines the types sports individuals choose participate in, their level of involvement, and affects their chances of success in the sport." This can be especially true for women. Women from less privileged backgrounds often get the short end of the stick. They face fewer opportunities and less access to ‘elite’ sports (Cooky). This isn’t just unfair, it’s a huge loss of potential talent. Sports should be about passion and talent, not about how much money you’ve got in the bank or which neighborhood you grew up in. Understanding this uneven playing field helps us see why pushing for diversity in sports isn’t just about being politically correct. It’s about breaking down barriers and making sure that talent, not background, decides who gets to stand on the podium.

So, whether it’s Kaitlyn Chen making Asian American girls proud or hijabi women showing strength and grace, or simply acknowledging the class divide in sports access, it’s clear that who plays, how they’re represented, and who watches them matters. Let’s keep these conversations going. Not just in blogs or news articles but in locker rooms, boardrooms, and stands. Because when we change the game in sports, we change the game in life too. Now, what’s the bottom line? Women’s sports are more than just games. They are powerful platforms for challenging norms and inspiring the next generation, as well as addressing broader social issues. Let's give every player her respect, not because it’s trendy, but because it’s right. Keep dribbling, shooting, and scoring, ladies! The world’s watching, and we’re all cheering you on.

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