#though she put her boys at significant risk by denying it for so long

[lesbians-all-the-way-down]

It's interesting to me that Remus is 'okay' with her baby dying on Christmas but not with her baby being born on Christmas

[lupically]

#D40404 | KAEDEHARA KAZUHA.

genre | fluff, light romance 

word count | 1245

warning | mention of alcohol and drinking

note | a tribute to me risking it all for maple boy (unfortunately) and getting c6 rosaria instead. 

kazuha always sighed when you complimented him.

it has nothing to do with shyness and embarrassment. even though whenever you stared at him with those playfully longing eyes of yours, and your lips sprouted dead petals that often contrasted his literary excellence with pure honesty, he would sigh with pink-tinted cheeks, he still insisted that it had nothing to do with him feeling shy and embarrassed about your direct compliments.

he did not blush because of those whimsical emotions. he blushed because of defeat, he sighed because of defeat. he would consider it a dissatisfaction of your shallow words—there must be more words to just... pretty.

"can you please eat your food? they are going to get cold," kazuha mumbled after taking a sip of his miso soup.

his brows furrowed deeper when opened his eyes and found you grinning dreamily at him. your chin was resting between where the base of your open palms joined, creating an allusion to a bloomed flower with your hands. and you were looking at him attentively, as you have been doing so ever since he caught your eyes amongst all else in the crux.

"you're so pretty, kazuha," you said, hints and hints of a soft giggle trailing in the tremble of your words. "you're pretty like a maple leaf."

he closed his eyes to ignore the present. bringing his chopsticks up to his mouth, he munched on the ball of rice with a visible frown you never cared for.

once again, there was absolutely no care for poetic greatness in your words. reflecting your simple mind, your words were plain and bland—he may be pretty, but your words certainly did not meet his standards!

additionally, he knew you think he is pretty! that was all you talked about when it came to him—heck, that was the only reason why you joined the crux! because you said you wanted to chase after him!

until today, he still couldn't understand why beidou found your lack of shame and your bold honesty so hilarious and a necessary part of the fleet. he just thought it was a mistake. a big, bad mistake.

somehow, beidou liked to tease him otherwise; that this has nothing to do with the clash of word choices and careful mind between you two, that this has something else stirring in him that he wasn't admitting to himself.

she liked to tell him it was all because he has unresolved feelings boiling inside, the feelings that refused to surface because he was too busy prioritizing a non-existent goal. she liked to tell kazuha that it was, in fact, shyness and embarrassment, because he hasn't realized that he has already developed feelings for you.

kazuha has not realized the monster he would become if one day, he listens to the wind and you're not within the breeze, and suddenly he couldn't find you anymore. he has not realized the significance that fact held.

"chased them away again, i see?" laughing loudly as she would after she gulped down a mouthful of alcohol, beidou pulled up a chair and sat down at your spot after she saw you stood up and ran off to patrol around the deck. "with the way flowers spill out of your mouth, i would expect you to be better at getting yourself a lover, you maple boy!"

kazuha deadpanned at the nickname, completely disregarding the fact that beidou almost slapped his heart out of his mouth. he scratched the back of his head to fix his ponytail, then he mumbled, "don't call me maple boy."

"oh? so [name] can say it but your captain can't?"

"i don't want anyone to say it."

beidou drank a few sips of alcohol as she squinted her eyes suspiciously at kazuha. pulling the bottle away from her face, she huffed dramatically before waving dismissively at him. she looked more serious now as she stood up and gave him a nod.

"alright then, i didn't know you dislike the name that much," she said, pointing over at your shadow on the deck. "i know they barely listen to you, but i'm sure if i talk to them, they would stop calling you that so i'll be on my way."

kazuha tapped his feet against the wooden floor. uneasiness was churning inside him heavily—swirling and swirling, bringing wind and mud together to craft a monster that seemed terrified of what the future could bring, what a future without you calling him your maple boy could bring. he closed his eyes to suppress it, his fingers fidgeting the further beidou's footsteps fade with the wind.

you would listen to her. you would call him kazuha, like everybody else, even though you were not everybody else. you have never just been everybody else.

he is your maple boy. he is not everybody else's maple boy, just yours.

"beidou–ah!" he jumped when he found the captain staring at him a few feet away, her boots in her hands and her silent steps treading the ground.

she laughed out loud at kazuha's shocked and wronged expression while she loudly approached him again. she sat down and began putting her boots back on slowly as she smiled to herself.

"i knew you cared about that name!" she said. "i also anticipated that look of constipation on your whenever you try to deny your feelings for [name]."

"i do not look–captain beidou, please!" kazuha gasped in defeat.

she laughed once again, bold and strong and secure. once her boots were laced up, she crossed her legs and kept silent as she took a good look at kazuha—her great companion, her strong and reliable companion, her companion who has finally found someone he could unconditionally seek comfort in.

"they are the only person who could break your composure, do you know that?"

she knew, everyone else in the fleet knew, and mostly, kazuha himself knew.

as calm and collected as he was, the possible turn of a monster's soul lay just within a snap of your fingers whenever you needed him to; violent, brutal, protective, and merciless. the treasure hoarders and the fatui learned of it the hard way when they thought you would be an easy target for your utter lack of combat ability, completely neglecting the pair of maple red eyes that glowed and glare in your shadow.

just a gust of wind, a cry for help, threatening footprints that trailed after your whereabouts—kazuha would turn. gone with the wind his composure and gentleness, the monster inside him crashes and burns and scratches until his undoing was done by those reassuring hands of yours against his cheeks.

"oh, hey!" you greeted when he climbed up the crow's nest up on the mainmast. grinning, you waved briefly. "my maple boy is here! what's up?"

kazuha softened.

he could be undone so easily. just three words from you and his claws, his sword, his knowledge fly, up and away into abandon.

the wind blew. with your scent, it brought him peace from his past and future. nothing about any time could be better than this moment, it felt to him, where your hair danced to the air and your relaxed smile complimented the sky. and when you called to him—maple boy, my maple boy—there wasn't much to say or think.

with all his literary excellence, the only words he could muster in his mind were three.

"you are pretty."

[etherealtauruss]

i’m wasting my time (when it was always you)

read on ao3

The air in the room was thick with tension. The men weren’t as close to each other as they usually were. It was weird, to say the least, to sit with such a generous amount of space between them. The silence was uncomfortable as well; it was bordering on eerie at this point. This wasn’t the first time they sat in a noiseless room together, but something about the energy was off. 

On the bright side, Christopher was finally in bed, thanks to Buck and two chapters of his latest Goosebumps book. Eddie had decided it’d be best if they talked about the disagreement they had earlier in the day tomorrow; after both of them had a good night’s rest. If they tried to hash it out tonight, he was sure that they’d just be talking in circles. Both parties needed a clear mind going into the conversation of Eddie jumping back into the dating pool. 

Now, back to the issue at hand. Buck and Eddie were fighting. 

Okay, fighting is an exaggeration, but things were certainly weird between them. Eddie had originally come by to pick up Chris, and he had figured Buck would fill him in on anything he deemed detrimental the following day. But, the look on his best friend’s face said it all. Whatever had happened between the time that Chris arrived at Buck’s house and Eddie coming by to get him, was something they needed to discuss sooner rather than later. 

But seeing said look on Buck’s face made Eddie want to do nothing more than hold him close and assure him that everything would be alright. He had no idea what they had discussed, but the thought of either of the most important people in his life hurting was almost too much to bear. 

Eddie wanted to place soft kisses all over Buck’s body; starting from his nose and ending at the tips of his toes. He wanted to love Buck unapologetically. He wanted to declare his love for the man; shouting it from the rooftop of the tallest building he could locate in Los Angeles. So yeah, there was no denying his feelings for Buck. But to risk losing one of the best friends he’s ever had? To risk ruining the amazing friendship between Buck and Chris? It wasn’t worth it. He had ultimately decided his feelings didn’t matter all that much in the grand scheme of things. 

If only he had the balls to just come out and say it, perhaps he could’ve avoided this night sent from hell entirely. 

So, that’s how they ended up here. In Eddie’s living room, acting as if they’d never spoken to each other a day in their lives. 

“So you’re just not going to say anything,” Eddie finally announced after what seemed like a lifetime. 

“I’m not sure what you expect me to say, Eddie.” 

Buck’s tone was clipped. 

“I want you to explain to me what conversation took place between you and Chris,” Eddie replied. “Because clearly, it was more serious than I had originally assumed.”

“I already told you on the drive over here,” Buck groaned. “I specifically said we had a heart to heart; nothing more, nothing less.” 

Eddie crossed his arms and turned his body so he was facing the younger man. “Do you expect me to believe that, Buckley? Because the look on your face formed words before your mouth had the chance to.” 

“You want the truth? Because I can give you the truth, Diaz,” Buck answered. “Chris told me that everyone leaves and when they do, he misses them, and it makes him sad,” Buck took a breath. “And now, you’re going to introduce him to yet another person, just for them to leave. He’s scared. And quite frankly? I don’t blame him, Eddie.” 

Eddie took a second to absorb what Buck had just told him. He had no idea this is where the anger Chris expressed was stemming from. But how could he? This had been the first time the topic of dating had come up since Shannon’s passing. And now with the pandemic, feelings were bound to be amplified in all areas. 

“Wait, ” Eddie said. “Did you just imply that you don’t think Ana is here for the long run?” His brows were furrowed and his tone was teetering on accusatory, but he couldn’t care less right now. 

“Maybe I did,” Buck replied. And boy, did he look smug, with the outer parts of his mouth quirked slightly. He was testing Eddie; seeing how far he could push him until he reached his breaking point. 

“That’s a bold statement to make about someone you barely know,” Eddie fired back. 

Things were heating up, quickly. 

“That’s rich coming from you,” Buck chuckled humorlessly. “You’re bringing someone into his life that you barely know!” 

Eddie grimaced at Buck’s statement. He wasn’t wrong, per se, but he was in too deep. This was happening.

“That’s not,” his voice faltered, “that’s not the same and you know it.” 

“Oh but it is,” Buck replied. “Humor me though. How well do you know Miss Flores?”

Eddie opened his mouth and then closed it. He knew she was Chris’s old teacher. He knew she was now a VP at a different school. He knew she was Latina. He knew she was beautiful, smart, and put together. 

Okay, so maybe that was all that he knew. 

“Ha! See. I know you, Eddie and you know me. But you have to admit, you don’t know anything that’s not surface-level about her.” He laughed again, “Your conversations are about as deep as a kitty pool.” 

“I’m getting to know her, Buck,” Eddie replied, rolling his eyes. “Do you get into relationships and dive into their shit immediately?” 

While Eddie waited for Buck’s response, he rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed two beers from the bottom shelf of the fridge and nodded his head at Buck, signaling him to move the conversation. 

Buck walked up to the island, cracked open his Heineken, and took a generous swig. “No. But I also don’t have a mini-me to introduce my potential significant other to,” Buck said pointedly. “All I’m saying is that I think it’s a little early to be jumping headfirst into the deep end.” 

“I didn’t ask you what your opinion was on my relationship.” 

“I mean technically-” Buck challenged, but Eddie was fed up at this point. 

“Why do you care so much anyway?” Eddie countered, cutting Buck off mid-sentence. 

Buck was taken back. He wasn’t expecting that question, but he was quick on his feet, so he went rushing in with another answer. 

“Because I care about Chris,” he said calmly. “I also care about you and I want you to be happy, I do. You deserve it more than anyone, but I just think you’re moving a little fast. There’s no guarantee she’s not going to walk out when it gets rocky.” 

Buck sighed, “Or maybe she’ll decide that being with a first responder isn’t for her. Which I mean, fair; it’s not for everyone. Regardless, the point still stands. I don’t think she’s permanent in Chris’s life at the moment, so it’s weird, in my opinion, to treat her as such.” 

Eddie knew Buck was right. He wanted to say it. The words were at the tip of his tongue. If he could just– 

“I’m a permanent fixture in Chris’s life,” Buck blurted out, nervously brushing his palms against his jeans. 

Eddie raised an eyebrow at the younger. Surely Buck didn't think he could be anything but a permanent fixture in Chris’s life. He meant so much to both of them; Eddie and Christopher. Buck was a crucial part of the Diaz family; no ifs, ands, or buts. 

“I never said you weren’t. Is there something I’m missing here?” Eddie asked, letting out a nervous laugh.  

“I-,” Buck began. “Nevermind. Now’s not the time.”

“Buck, c’mon,” Eddie pleaded. “There’s no better time than right now.” 

“I can’t,” Buck muttered. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I can't tell you like this,” he finished in a hushed tone. 

Eddie frowned. He placed his beer bottle onto a swirled marble of the island and swiftly walked over to his best friend who stood just three feet away. He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and rested his thumb on Buck’s collarbone, rubbing it back and forth across the clavicle covered by milky skin. 

“Buck. You know you can tell me anything,” Eddie said. He gave the man's shoulder a light squeeze and continued to rub his thumb across the length of the prominent bone, letting Buck know it was okay to speak whenever he was ready. 

“Did you ever stop and think about why I jumped into the dating pool right after you did?” Buck asked, eyes trained on the floor. 

“I-I figured–,” Eddie stumbled slightly, trying to find the right words. “I just assumed you were tired of being single.”

“That and the fact that the person I wanted was whisked away before I had the chance to tell him how I feel,” Buck replied, voice cracking. His throat felt like it was closing and he felt the familiar sting towards the back of his eyes, a sure sign that the waterworks were on their way. “God. This is pathetic.” 

“Hey. Look at me,” Eddie said, coaxing Buck’s head upward with a feather-light touch to his chin. 

Buck tried to avoid eye contact by going against the grain of Eddie’s touch. He couldn’t breakdown, not now. He'd almost made it to the end of their.. conversation? Whatever. At this moment, he wished for nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole and return him to real life in 14 to 17 business days. He couldn't tell Eddie how he felt now. Not when Eddie was finally happy. 

He couldn't make something about him. Again. 

He couldn't be a bad friend to another person within two hours. 

So why did Buck blow up his spot? Beats him. 

“I like you, Eddie,” Buck confessed. “But, that doesn't matter now. I missed my chance; you're with Ana. I won't take away your happiness. I can't take away your happiness; not now, not ever.” 

Buck sighed and reluctantly stepped out from under the older man’s touch. “I should leave. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Eds.” 

“Buck,” Eddie started gentle yet firm. “The only way you could take away my happiness is if you walked out, through that door.” 

“Huh?” was all Buck managed to say. 

“You bring me happiness, Buck. You are my happiness. Well, besides Chris, but that should go without saying.” Eddie rubbed his hands together and continued, “I like you too.” 

Buck chewed on his bottom lip, trying to think of what to say in reply to Eddie’s declaration. 

“How long have you felt this way? How come you didn't tell me, Eds?” he asked. 

“Longer than I’d like to admit. But I couldn't risk messing up everything just for feelings that could've been one-sided.” 

“And that’s why you went out with Ana?” Buck questioned. 

“Partially. I needed to start my journey to real happiness. Then Ana conveniently reappeared, so I thought, why not y’know?” 

Eddie continued before Buck could respond. “Ana isn't you, Buck. That's what I'm getting at. She's sweet, funny, and intelligent, but she's not you. She doesn't hold a candle to all that you are.” 

Buck began to chuckle, which soon turned into a full-on fit of giggles. Once he was done with his laughter and caught his breath, he spoke once more. “We’re a pair of idiots, aren't we?”

“That we are," Eddie said. His eyes crinkled as a genuine grin graced his face. "Though I must say, there's no one I’d rather be an idiot with besides you.” 

They wanted to kiss. Boy, did they want to kiss. However, the men also knew Eddie had to break things off with Ana first. It was just the right thing to do. But in the meantime, they could hold one another in the soft glow of Eddie’s kitchen and exchange words so sweet you'd think they had been dipped in honey. They would be together soon. 

Oh so soon. 

[oneyeartoparty]

Meeting At Long Last - Chapter 4: The First Few Days

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753607/chapters/66923116

The kitchen was quiet as Lily entered. Gone was the scent of cooking food, the shouting chefs, the boiling water and sizzling oil. It was replaced with the smell of soap and sloshing water as mops were pulled and pushed across the floor. The breakfast rush had just ended, and so only a few of the stations were still in use, with the rest closed for cleaning or left unused.

She made her way to a small, unoccupied section of the kitchen; one meant more for the preparation of smaller meals than the grand feast that was regularly made elsewhere in the room. Stopping in front of a well-worn wooden cutting board, she placed down what she had been holding.

Lily inspected the ingredients before her with a careful eye. Since Thatch had kindly offered her access to the ship’s food stores, she was able to take her pick of the available food. The more significant issue she faced was finding what she needed. The food storage area was necessarily large and filled with an abundance of ingredients, from the mundane to the more exotic and strange. It has taken her almost half an hour to locate everything she needed, and she made to sure mentally note where she pulled everything from, for future reference.

Despite the abundance of ingredients, she was held back by her lack of adequate cooking skills. Her childhood cooking experience consisted of sticking some meat over a fire and making rice, so she had been woefully under prepared for surviving long term while sailing the sea. Luckily, she had encountered a few well-meaning sailing merchants who taught her the basics of cooking and food preservation before giving her some small rations and sending her on her way.  

While it was only a few days into her stay on the Moby Dick, she thought it best to get started practicing her cooking while food was plentiful, and she had some spare time. While she doubted anything would happen during her stay, she didn’t want to be caught out if it did, especially if she ended up stranded one of the more mysterious islands in the New World.

It didn’t take long for her mind to stray once she got started cooking. She had practiced many times during quieter periods in her journey, and so muscle memory took hold, allowing her to reflect on the last few days of her stay. 

Things had been calmer than she had expected. Ships sailing these waters expected to be harassed by Marines, pirates or a combination of the two, but the Moby Dick faced no resistance as it cut through the ocean. Lily had sighted a few ships as they traveled, though they were too distant for her to see any identifying features. All of them were sailing away from them like they had hit an invisible barrier and were bounced back.

Then there was the crew. Many had approached her to introduce themselves and see how she was doing. None asked about the mask, and Lily attributed this to Thatch keeping his promise to ensure no one would ask, though, no guarantee could stop the staring. There were fewer stares than she expected. No doubt many of the crew had seen stranger sights and saw her as ordinary in comparison. Of those who did stare, some were more subtle, only choosing to take glances when they thought she wasn’t looking or paying attention. Others openly gawked, or reacted in obvious shock, like one cabin boy who stared at her wide-mouthed when she was walking back to her room one afternoon. The boy’s reaction didn’t surprise her; she had seen many children react the same when they saw her. 

What had been surprising was the attempts of some of the crew to flirt with her. It was odd for someone like Lily, who was so often considered a freak, to be flirted with. The first time it has happened, it was shortly after she had sat with Marco and Ace on the ship’s railing. A woman approached her; she had a slender form with wavy but thin brown hair that traveled down to meet her elbow and eyes that matched the brown of her hair. Despite her slender form, she had apparent muscle, visible through the bulky red reefer coat and blue jean she wore. She made her intention known quickly, but didn’t get very far, nor would any of the others, as Ace would appear to glare at anyone who tried as if a mere attempt at flirting with her caused him to appear to put a stop to it instantly. 

After the fifth flirting attempt, Ace started to spend more time with her, and while he wouldn’t admit it, it was a clear sign the flirting was bringing out his overprotective brother side. Lily didn’t mind; she enjoyed her brother's company, especially after so much time apart. If he had other duties, he would often leave Lily with Thatch. While he had initially been wary of his fellow Commander due to his reputation, he quickly came to trust Thatch with Lily when he saw that he wouldn’t follow in some of his crewmate’s footsteps. 

Overall, the crew of the Moby Dick had been kind to her, and while Lily appreciated their kindness, each new person she met caused her anxiety to spike. She wasn’t used to being approached so freely, and so often by strangers, and while she tried her best to speak with everyone, she would sometimes lockup and find it difficult to respond. 

Thankfully, most of them would notice and take their leave, or Ace, Thatch or Marco would appear and whisk her away to an empty part of the ship and sit with her for a while until she felt better. It was something she deeply appreciated, and she made a note to try to find gifts for them all before she departed the ship.

Today had been a rare day where the three were elsewhere, leaving her to her own devices. She had spent her time sorting her bags, taking stock of what she had saved from her destroyed ship. Sorting through everything, she noticed a cookbook she had salvaged. Flicking through the water-damaged pages, she saw some recipes that caused her empty stomach to rumble. And so, she made her way to the kitchen to prepare them. 

“Interesting dishes you’re making Lily, though they’re a bit basic,” Thatch said from beside her, pulling Lily from her reminiscing.  

“Basic?” she asked, secretly not shocked by his words.

“Yeah, it’ll do for keeping you alive, but that’s it. If your living and fighting in the New World you need more than that. You need to be re-energized and revitalized. Anyone with basic cooking skills can put something together, but only the best chefs can make something that both keeps and makes you feel alive.” 

There was truth in his words that Lily couldn't deny. After all, she had experienced the effects of his cooking since she had come aboard. Every meal gave her more energy than anything else she had tried before, and it made getting through the day much more comfortable.

“I can teach you a few different things if you’d like,” he offered.

“Thank you, Thatch, that would be wonderful,” she happily replied.

Getting a lesson from an expert chef and spending some time with a friend. I think today is shaping into a good day.

Cooking with Thatch was a learning experience. His love of cooking came through with every action he made, and it was apparent he took joy in sharing his craft with others. He took the time to explain every step and went over things she had trouble mastering. Despite her occasional slip-up, it wasn’t long before they finished, successfully making two dishes she had seen in the recipe book.

The food now sat on a divided plate, a serving of spicy beef rice occupying the red side and a summer salad on the white. They both looked scrumptious, better than anything Lily could prepare by herself. Still, while she had help, there was an undeniable touch of her in both dishes, and she felt proud she had a hand in creating them.

“Both look great! Thank you for your assistance in making them, Thatch,” Lily said, delight ringing in her voice.

“It was my pleasure, now which should we tr-“.

“Ahh crap!” a male voice shouted from the other end of the kitchen, interrupting Thatch.

“Is someone in trouble?” Lily asked, tensing up slightly.

“No need to worry. That sadly familiar yell was the new cook screwing up the soup again. I’ll be back in a minute.” He said in a huff, walking toward the direction of the shout.

And so, Lily began to wait. It took mere minutes after Thatch’s departure for an odd impatience to take over her. She wanted to wait as he had asked, but after all the work they had put into making this food, she couldn’t let it go cold before someone could taste test it for her.

“I’ll go and find Ace and see what he thinks,” she said to herself as she grasped the plate and turned toward the exit.

Exiting the kitchen, she began to make her way towards Ace’s cabin, a skip in her step as she looked forward to seeing her brother’s reaction to her new creations.

She didn’t encounter anyone on the walk to the cabin, and soon she found herself standing in front of the door to her brother’s quarters. Not wanting to risk dropping the plate, she used her foot to tap the door lightly.

“Ace? Are you in there?” she half-shouted through the door.

There was no response. Not that she was surprised. Ace could easily be somewhere else on the ship or napping, becoming almost dead to the world as he dreamt what she hoped were pleasant dreams.

Undeterred, she decided to knock one final time before searching elsewhere.

Again, nothing.

Could he be training, maybe? He did say he was meeting with members of his division today, is he doing that now?

Hearing footsteps, she turned to see Marco walking toward her. He wasn’t wearing his usual outfit. Instead, he wore a light grey, long-sleeved sports shirt; the first few buttons left undone to show the top of his tattoo. His pants were made of what Lily thought was cotton that had been dyed black and stopped just below his knees.

He looks like he’s trying to relax today. Maybe this is a rare day off for him?

“Hello, Lily.” Marco greeted.

“Hey, Marco,” she cheerfully replied.

“Looking for somewhere to sit and eat?” he asked, inspecting the plate.

“No, Thatch assisted me in making some food. It's my first attempt making something like this, so I was looking for Ace to taste test it for me.”

“Why didn’t Thatch taste it?”

“There was a soup emergency that he had to go handle. Since he was busy, I decided to go find Ace instead.”

“You won’t have any luck finding Ace. He went racing off on his Striker when he heard one of our ally ships needed help. I tried telling him Izu was already on the way, but he was gone before I could even start speaking.” Marco grumbled.

She sighed “That’s typical Ace. He can be a hot-head sometimes.”

“I don’t hate him for it. It's how he show’s he cares, and I will admit it’s kinda endearing.”

“So, my brother has rubbed off on you? It’s the same with Luffy. Those two always seem to make fast friends no matter where they go,” Lily chucked.

“It wasn’t that smooth a start for Ace here, but it did work out that way, and we’re all glad it did. I think the ship would be empty without him setting things on fire.”

“Changing the subject, since the fire starter isn’t here, would you try one of these for me? The red side is spicier if you’re not a fan of spice.” She asked as she lifted the plate, moving it closer to Marco.

Marco looks between them. “Which is which?” 

“Sorry?” 

“I can’t see colour.” 

It took a moment for her to realise what he had meant. “You haven’t found your soulmate?” 

He shook his head. “Not yet, though I have been looking.” 

His words caused her to panic internally.

I’ve screwed up! How could I be so inconsiderate when he’s been so kind? He’s going to hate me now.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed as I did. It was horrible of me,” Lily muttered, her anxiety serving to dampen her voice, making it come out as a whisper.

“Please Lily, there is no need to apologies for not knowing, especially when its something like this.” 

She was relieved. She would hate to have offended Marco. While they hadn’t spent much time together, she felt that had a bond already, and given how few close bonds she had, she didn’t want to lose it.

“Does it impede you at all?” she asked, allowing her curiosity to take over momentarily.

He shook his head. “Not really. Most things that would be a struggle have a colour-blind variant, and I can always ask for some help if it doesn’t. If anything, the worst part of it is knowing I still haven’t found them.”

“How long have you been looking?”

“Since I was young. It’s one of the reasons I set out to sea. I’d be an orphan my entire life, surviving with the scraps I managed to get my hands on. Looking back on it now, with everything I’ve done, it was more existing than living. There were happy moments, but it was no life for anyone, especially a child.” 

His eyes shifted, turning to watch the ocean as it arched up and down in the wind. Though he only stared out for a few seconds, she saw a visible calm come over him.

“And so, when I was twelve, I decided I didn’t want to be alone, that I wanted to find that one person who might want to stay by my side and create a family. I still haven’t found my soulmate, but I did find a family. I think I was the most fortunate I’ve ever been when I boarded this ship on the day I left my home island. “ 

 I can’t let me him be without his soulmate, not after all the kindness he’s shown me.

“I’ll help you look,” Lily exclaimed.

He looked perplexed. “Help me look?” 

She nodded. “I won’t be with you for very long, but I do my best to help you find your soulmate.” 

Marco beamed. He seemed ecstatic at the offer. 

“I’ll gladly accept that offer, Lily.” 

Lily sighed, “It might not be much of an offer unless we stop on any populated islands.” 

“It’s a coincidence, but we’re stopping at one of our islands tomorrow. If I remember right, they’ll be holding a festival to celebrate the first harvest of the year. They get a lot of traffic from nearby islands too. So, want to go with me?”

FrEAK

They flashed in her mind again, their claws ripping her confidence and bravery apart and letting the anxiety and fear seep in. It made what had been so simple now impossible.

If I try to help him, I’ll be a burden. I should never have offered, knowing what I am.

“Sorry, Marco, it might not be the best idea. I apologies for the trouble,” the second she finished speaking, Lily whirled around and began walking away, nearly dropping the plate she had forgot she held.

“Wait, Lily!” Marco called from behind her, concern in his voice

She stopped the guilt from hearing his obvious concern causing her halt. She hated worrying people, and this was no exception.

Marco quickly appeared in front of her, leaning down they were face-to-face.

“What made you so upset? Do you not want to go to the festival?”

She shook her head. “I do, but, how could I? Every village or town I go to I get ostracised because of my mask. They think I’m some horrible criminal or…”

“Or?”

“A freak, a disgusting freak.”

There was silence for a moment “Lily, can I hug you?”

She weakly nodded, expecting a quick, pitiful embrace. Instead, she noticed the weight lifted from her hands as Marco gently took the plate and put it beside the door.

Then, with a speed that Lily surmised could only come from an expert hugger, he gave her a gentle smile and hugged her.

He was warm and soft. It wasn’t like Ace’s warmth, which with his new devil fruit was nearly overwhelming, nor was near smothering like Luffy’s ecstatic hugs. This was a pleasant warmth, experienced when sitting in the sun on just the right day, with grass dancing along your exposed skin. It was a feeling Lily wanted to get lost in. But soon, Marco ended the embrace, stepping back, but remaining close.

“I’m not going to ask what you went through and I’m not going to ask Ace either. I want you to tell me when you’re ready if you ever are. Until then, know that I don’t care if anyone looks down on me for choosing to spend time with you. I’m happy to do so even if it means I’m an outcast for it. Besides, I’m a pirate. I’m used to the looks and judgement, its sort of a job requirement.”

She wanted to doubt him. It wasn’t the first time someone used pretty words and promises to gain her trust. But she also knew people, it was a necessity for her, learning how to properly ready people. And that’s how Lily knew that Marco was sincere.

I think I can let myself trust him a little.

“Also, I should mention this isn’t an ordinary festival. It customary to dress up, so you won’t stand out, if you still want to go, of course.”

A smile only known to her, appeared on her face. “I’d like that a lot.”

A smile returned to his face. “Then I’ll come to get you once we dock. It should be around midday, so keep an eye out for me around then. For now, would you let me escort you back to the kitchen? I’m sure Thatch is wondering where you went.”

With a nod from Lily, the two began to walk together. It was a silent walk back, both of them far too preoccupied with thinking about tomorrow to speak. They were so distracted in fact that neither of them had remembered to pick up the plate that now sat next to Ace’s cabin door.

[hedwigstalons]

Rite of Passage

This is written for #irrelief set up by @gumnut-logic.  This is for both @tsarinatorment who wanted Scott teaching a younger brother how to fly, and @scribbles97 who wanted anything with Scott and Alan.  

xoxoxox

“Up and at ‘em, birthday boy.  These pancakes won’t last long if you don’t get down here quick.”

 Grandma Tracy’s voice reverberated down the corridor to Alan’s room, stirring him in to action.  At twelve years old he had lost the desire to be up at the crack of dawn and even his own birthday couldn’t entice him out of his room any earlier than was necessary.  Although if pancakes were on offer that could only mean one thing – Virgil was cooking.

The thought of Virgil’s thick and fluffy pancakes gave him the final push he needed otherwise he risked losing his share.  He thundered down the stairs towards the kitchen and snagged a stack of pancakes from the pile in the middle of the table.  The serving platter was loaded to overflowing and the jug of maple syrup was still full.  Despite the threats no one else had started although Gordon was practically drooling from his place at the far side of the table.

 All the Tracy boys appreciated good food.  It could be in short supply on a rescue and in even shorter supply on the island if Grandma Tracy took it into her head to care for them with a good old fashioned dose of home cooking.  Taking their cue from Alan the stack of pancakes was soon demolished.  Blocks of butter were carved in to.  Syrup dribbles were slurped off fingers.  The feeding frenzy only finished when Virgil announced that there was no more batter left, much to the disappointment of everyone present.

 With his stomach finally full Alan was able to take a proper look around the table.  For once all of his brothers were present, even John.  Comms must have been routed through to the island to allow his space monitor sibling to attend.  He appreciated the effort; having John around was a rare treat and he missed the sibling who had inspired his love of space.  He just hoped the Earth stayed quiet for a few hours.  It always hurt watching his brothers dash off in their craft to save the world.  Since Gordon earned his full IR blues last year he was the only one left behind when a call for help came in.

 There was still one noticeable gaping absence in the assembled company.  The place at the head of the table was empty.  No one yet had the heart to sit in the chair that had until recently been the preserve of their father.  This was Alan’s first birthday since the Zero-X exploded.  His first birthday without his father.  The thought made the pancakes sit heavily in his stomach, as though they had been made of cardboard.  

 All joy seemed to leach out of the day.

 Birthdays were meant to be special.  Twelfth birthdays even more so.  Turning twelve allowed a Tracy to obtain the freedom of the skies.  That magical rite of passage that was the first time being in control of an aircraft.  He was no stranger to flying as a passenger, all Tracys seemed to clock up air miles from birth, but to actually take control was a privilege that had so far been denied to him.

 It had all started with Scott.  Scott, who would bleed aviation fuel if you cut him and had been obsessed with the skies from the moment he had first been placed on a blanket outside as a baby to watch the clouds go by.  Scott, who had been asking to fly since he could talk.  Other boys might ask for bicycles for their birthday, Scott asked for aeroplanes.  And when Scott turned twelve he had been deemed mature enough, and tall enough, to move into the pilot’s seat.  

 It was a milestone that had carried on with each brother in turn.

 It was a milestone that Alan was to be denied.  There was no father around to take him up and hand over control.

 The celebration moved through to the lounge where a stack of presents were arranged on one of the sofas.  Books, video games and new clothes all appeared from the brightly wrapped parcels.  A box of snacks and candy from Gordon was quickly whisked away to his room to be hidden from thieving brothers.  Even birthday candy wasn’t sacred if left in a communal area; exhausted brothers returning from the danger zone could demolish a pack of Oreos quicker than you could say ‘Thunderbirds are go!’.

 Soon there were no more parcels left.

 “So, Alan, any plans for your big day?”  Scott asked.

 With his attention taken up with reading the back of one of the video game boxes Alan completely missed the smirks that were exchanged between his brothers.

 “Maybe play one of these.  Anyone up for it?”  He held up one of the boxes.  A space rocket filled the cover and the tagline promised intergalactic adventures that were out of this world.

 “Sorry.  Maybe later. I’ve got some maintenance to do.”

 The disappointment on Alan’s face was clear to all as Scott turned and headed off towards the hangers.

 “Anyone?” He waved the box in a hopeful manner but the lounge was already clearing as everyone went off to their respective duties.

 “Sorry, Al.  I don’t really have time for games.  Scott’s right, there is maintenance to do.  If you come and give me a hand on Three I might get done in time for a game before I head back up to the office.”

 Alan perked up at this prospect.  Thunderbird Three was his favourite craft but one he was rarely allowed near.  The mighty space rocket seemed to call out to him and he longed to one day feel her power. Every time she launched in to orbit Alan could be found drooling at the windows of the villa.  It was a sight he never grew tired of.  The thought of spending time with John was also not to be sneezed at.

 Alan willingly followed John to the elevators but instead of heading towards Thunderbird Three’s silo John started leading the way towards the private hanger.  Alan trailed along behind.  Maybe John needed to collect some tools or speak to one of the others first.  They would get to the rocket soon enough and then Alan could lose himself in the mighty machine.  If he was lucky John might even let him sit in the pilot’s seat.

 As he entered the hangar Alan found himself blinking. Bright tropical sunshine spilled through the open door, exposing the view of the runway and the ocean beyond.

 Once his eyes stopped watering and adjusted to the brightness Alan noticed his brothers and Grandma all gathered round.  There, lined up to exit the hanger, was the small two-seater propeller plane that rarely saw the light of day.  Probably not since Gordon had turned twelve.

 “You didn’t think we would forget would you?”  Scott stepped forwards, already kitted out in his blues and holding out one final parcel.

 Alan stepped forwards to meet him and accepted the gift. He peeled off the paper almost reverentially, partly because of the significance of the gift and partly because he knew better than to leave litter in the hangar that could get sucked in to aircraft engines.

 Hidden underneath the folds of paper was a familiar flash of blue.  He shook out the material and held up the small flight suit.  The stiff cotton was unblemished and still heavily creased in its newness.  He rubbed his thumbs over the material as he held the suit by the shoulders.  A patch badge on the breast proclaimed ‘A. TRACY’.

 It might not be the high-tech material of his brothers’ uniforms but it was his.  A symbol of the next stage of his life.  Each brother in turn had been gifted their first flight suit on turning twelve.  The significance of the colour was not lost on him. For each of the others the flight suit had been in the traditional green used by the US Air Force.   His was sky blue with patches of a slightly darker shade on the knees and elbows. This suit was proof that one day he would be accepted as a Thunderbird.  Provided he could actually master flying.

 He undid the velco down the front of the suit with a satisfying rip and stepped in.  The legs and arms were a little long but it gave him some growing room.  Scott knelt down in front of him and folded up the cuffs into a fetching pair of turnups while Alan rolled back the sleeves a couple of turns.

 “Can’t have these catching on the controls.”  Scott murmured and he stood up, stepping back to admire his handiwork.  “You ready?”

 Alan could only nod dumbly as Scott led him over the aircraft and helped him in.  

 The aircraft was rather more basic than anything else in the Tracy fleet.  Dual controlled with a simple stick and rudder pedals.  It was the perfect trainer plane to learn the principals of flight.  Of course it had had a few Tracy upgrades over the years.  The instruments were now more in line with those found on the Thunderbirds and the comms unit was able to connect to the secure International Rescue frequencies.  The technology was nothing new to Alan who had grown up with a lot of these features as standard but an outsider might have found the juxtaposition between high and low tech to be a touch strange.

 “At least you are a bit taller than Gordon was” Scott said as he slotted himself into the second seat by Alan’s side, “Dad had to put him on a booster wedge.”

 Alan smirked a little about this piece of ammunition. His next older brother made a big thing about Alan being the baby of the family.  Next time Gordon teased about him having homework to do or not being allowed to swim without on of the others present Alan knew just what he would throw back in his fish brother’s face.  

 Lost in his imaginings of being able to retaliate against Gordon Alan missed that Scott had stared speaking again.  Information about pitch, roll and yaw; rudders, flaps and ailerons had passed him by.

 “Earth to Alan.”

 A hand was waved in front of his face, jerking him back to reality.

 “Huh.  What was that, Scotty?”

 “Wake up, kid.  This thing won’t learn to fly itself.  I said the stick controls the flaps and ailerons” Scott gave the stick a waggle and Alan watched as sections on the wings and tail moved correspondingly, “and the pedals control the rudder”.  Alan turned around and saw the rudder section in the tail swing left and right as the pedals at his feet shifted, mirroring the action caused by Scott manipulating his own pedals.  “Now lets get this baby fired up.  Just watch what I do for now.  You can keep your hands and feet on the controls but make sure you don’t put any pressure on them, just touch them lightly so you can feel what I’m doing.”

 Scott’s fingers flew deftly over the various switches in the cockpit.  The engine stuttered in to life and the propeller began to turn until it was a near-invisible blur at the front of the plane.  A few more switches that Alan recognised as belonging to the radio and they were ready to go.

 “Trainerbird One requesting permission to take off”.

 John’s hologram popped up in the cockpit showing that he had evidently headed back to the lounge to run comms.

 “Trainerbird One you are cleared for take off.”

 Alan felt the small aircraft vibrate as Scott increased the power and they slowly rolled forwards towards the hanger doors and the outside world.  Soon they were moving at speed towards the end of the runway and Alan was suddenly struck by how short the strip was.  Normally he was the passenger section of one of the jets or they used VTOLs.  The small training craft gave him an entirely new perspective of the world.

 Scott really was a master of all things aeronautical and Alan barely felt them leave the ground despite the most basic component of the Tracy fleet providing little protection against the pull of forces.  He kept a fingertip touch on the controls and felt the aircraft turn and dip to Scott’s commands.  The ocean glittered below, blending with the crystal clear sky on the distant horizon.

 Despite normally piloting the most advanced plane in the world Alan could tell that Scott was enjoying himself too.  The small propeller plane was neither fast nor elegant but the primitive controls only served to deepen the connection between man and machine.  Every action had a reaction which was fed back to the pilot via the controls.  Every gust of wind was felt and needed to be responded to.  Pilot and craft needed to work in harmony rather than one assuming control of the other.

 “You ok there Alan?  Feel ready to take control for a bit?”

 Alan looked across at his eldest brother, his eyes shining.

 “Really?”

 “Sure.  Just avoid hitting the island and you’ll be fine.  You have control.”

 “I have control” Alan responded, parroting the interaction between pilot and co-pilot that he had witnessed so many times previously.

 And then he did.  Scott’s hands were no longer on the stick but were instead placed neatly in his lap.  Alan had no doubt that those same hands would be back on the controls in an instant if anything went wrong but for now the sky was his own.

 After a couple of minutes of level flying, circling around the island, Scott looked across at his youngest brother.  He could tell that Alan was just itching to try something a little more adventurous.  

 “Go on, put her through her paces.  I’m here if anything goes wrong.”

 Alan needed no second bidding.  Soon the small plane was dipping and turning.  First moving with the wind, then against, as he got a feel for the craft and her abilities.  The freedom of the skies was his and he could see why his brothers soon got miserable if they were grounded.  Even Gordon, whose natural habitat was in the ocean, was not immune to the lure of the skies and griped if he couldn’t get airborne.  His heart soared as he felt the shifting air currents and the pull of the forces as he coaxed the plane through progressively more ambitious and demanding manoeuvres.

 All too soon it was time for lesson one to come to an end as Scott took control again with Alan gently feeling the movements required for landing.  The short runway rushed up as Scott took the steep approach angle necessitated by their island home.  A subtle bump and bounce announced their reconnection with the ground.

 Once the craft was still Scott reached out and draped an arm around his brother’s shoulders.  In the confined space of the cockpit they had been practically touching for the whole flight and it took no effort at all to turn it in to some semblance of a hug.

 “So what did you think, Al?  Another lesson tomorrow if rescues allow?  You did great up there.”

 Alan nodded against his brother’s shoulder, not trusting his voice as an unexpected wave of emotion washed over him.

 Scott sensed the younger boy stiffen against him.  He looked down and spotted the moisture welling up in Alan’s eyes, the clenched jaw showed just how hard Alan was fighting to stay in control.

 “Hey, what’s wrong?”

 “Did...did I really do ok?”

 “Yeah.  I’m proud of you.  Dad would have been proud too.”

 And that was the tipping point.  Alan twisted in the confined space and Scott found himself wrapped in a tight embrace as Alan fully buried his face in the shoulder of Scott’s uniform, sobs wracking his body.  Scott rubbed a hand gently up and down the back of Alan’s flight suit, letting Alan have his moment and burn out in his own time.

 Soon the moment had passed.  With one final sniff Alan pulled himself out of the embrace and suddenly became very interested in the wall of the hanger visible through the side windows of the cockpit.  

 “I mean it Alan.”  Scott spoke to the back of Alan’s head.  “Dad would be so proud of you today.  I know it’s not the same for you but it was an honour to take you up today. You’re a natural up there.”

 Alan turned back to face him, a grin splitting his face.

 “So, next time you’re going to take me up in Thunderbird One?”

 “Nice try, kid.  Nice try.”

[westgateoh]

A scene from a long fic I’m working on. Felt like sharing because Bruce and Jason. Encouragement is helpful if you like it. Thanks for reading (sorry about the spacing)

“What happened?” Batman growled, and the wind of the rooftop swirled his cape around him, like it was whipping him. He ignored it. “You’re favoring your right arm.”

Jason would deny it, but he was using the only arm that worked at the moment to hold a goon by his windpipe against the wall while Bruce zip tied the guy’s hands behind his back. From the whimper Jason heard, Bruce wasn’t taking any chances. “Dislocated shoulder in the fight. I’ll be fine.” He stepped back so that Bruce could shove the guy to his knees and tie his ankles. Jason would be fine, too. He turned to the wall, shoved his gun in its holster, and lined up his shoulder. He’d put his own shoulder back plenty of times. It hurt like a sonofabitch, but he’d done it. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and felt Bruce pull him back from the wall.

“Stop.”

Jason turned to look at him.

“It’s harder to do it yourself. Let me.”

Something in Bruce’s voice was softer than usual, more like a request than his usual demands.

It would be easier to have Bruce do it, so he nodded, and Bruce pulled him a little so that Jason’s back wasn’t against the wall.

He put one hand on Jason’s shoulder and then gripped his elbow. “Deep breath and hold it.”

Jason complied.

Bruce wrenched and Jason clenched his eyes through the pain and then it was done. Bruce still held Jason’s arm. “Better?” he asked.

Jason stared at the gloved hand on his arm, but he didn’t pull away. He just nodded.

“Good. Will you come back to the Cave and let Agent A do a scan to make sure everything’s stable in there?” Bruce was still holding his arm, and Jason couldn’t stop staring at his hand. “Hood?” Bruce says, his voice soft, so the guy on the ground couldn’t hear him. “Are you all right?”

Jason was years away, his vision filled with the memory of the first time he broke his arm on patrol with Bruce, when he was laying on the rooftop in the chill of October as Bruce stood over him, brushing his gloved hand through Jason’s hair and saying, “You’re going to be all right, Robin. It hurts now, but we’ll get you back to the Cave and fix your arm right up so it doesn’t hurt as badly. You’ll be all right.” And Jason believed him immediately, and let Bruce pick him up and carry him down the rickety fire escape to the Batmobile, where he laid him gently in the backseat and then put the car on autopilot so that he could hold Jason’s good hand the whole way home.

Dragged back to the present by the smell of asphalt and garbage from the alley below, he looks up at Bruce. “I’m fine,” he says, and pulls his arm away. “I have to go home.”

Bruce frowned. “Does your current home have a decent med kit?”

Jason brushed off his concern. “Yeah. Tim restocked it for me last week. It probably even has root beer lollipops,” and he didn’t say it to hurt, but Bruce flinched, clearly remembering the jar of root beer lollipops Alfred let Bruce keep in the med bay when they’d found out they were Jason’s favorite. Bruce would sneak them to Jason sometimes when he was sick, like they were carrying out international espionage or something by getting them past Alfred.

Jason blinked at Bruce’s reaction and shook his head. “You need anything else from me here?” he asked.

Bruce let go of Jason’s arm and stepped back. “No. Go home and rest.” He paused. “Oh, and add tonight to your casefile on the Marineli group. I’m certain it’s connected.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment before Bruce seemed to shake himself out of thought, and he took a step toward Jason, who couldn’t help his reaction of stepping back so now he was against the wall. He tried to lean and make it look intentional and casual, but Bruce took a step back quickly, like he knew he’d accidentally boxed Jason in.

“Come to dinner tomorrow?” he asked, and Jason closed his eyes, thankful that the lenses kept the action from Bruce. “Dick’s going to be there.”

“No, thanks,” he replied, and Bruce stiffened. “I’ll check in before patrol if you want, since so many things seem to be overlapping right now.” He paused and looked at Batman standing in front of him – they only had a few minutes before the police arrived at the scene and Bruce really still didn’t want the GCPD to know how closely he was working with the Red Hood, Jason understood that. He looked, though, and saw Bruce reaching out, trying to get Jason home, trying to help him.

It had been long enough since their last big fight, long enough for Jason to see how Bruce was trying to be there for him, trying to get Jason to come into the sphere of the Bats enough for him to want to stay, for them to be a family again. Jason saw that. He even wanted it sometimes, but thinking about things like family made Jason’s skin itch, made his chest tight, and made his nerves sing. Looking at Bruce practically vibrating out of the Bat suit, though, was enough to make Jason stop and think. “You want to get some pancakes?” he asked, rolling his bad shoulder slowly, keeping it loose.

“What?”

“Pancakes. There’s a new diner just outside the Narrows. I’ve been wanting to try it. I could use your ear for the Singali case, too, if you want to talk for a bit.” He could hardly believe his own words, but he found himself holding his breath waiting for Bruce to answer.

Bruce finally nodded. “Give me an hour. I’ll meet you there,” he said, and his voice dropped the Batman growl entirely, and he turned and disappeared over the edge of the roof.

Jason stood still for a minute and finally shook his head. “What the fuck did I just do?” he muttered to himself, and then he made himself move. He needed to change clothes.

Jason ordered a cup of coffee and an order of French toast before Bruce finally got there, sliding into the booth and pulling his faded black Gotham Knights baseball hat a little lower over his eyes. He was wearing a grey hoodie, dark jeans jacket, and torn jeans with green Converse and Jason had to admire his ability to move entirely unlike Bruce Wayne or Batman.

“I ordered already, sorry. I was really hungry,” Jason said, shoving a bite of French toast into his mouth. Their waitress, a tall redhead, came to the table and poured a refill for Jason and a cup for Bruce, who ordered some scrambled eggs and hash browns and a glass of orange juice. Jason asked her to bring him some eggs and bacon, and Bruce hid a smile behind his coffee cup.

Jason raised an eyebrow after she left. “Diner orange juice, B? Pretty big risk.”

Bruce shrugged. “Feeling a little run down. Could use all the vitamin C I can get.”

Jason blinked and swallowed a weird feeling of panic that surged at the thought of Bruce getting sick. The first time Bruce had caught the flu when Jason was a kid he’d been convinced Bruce was going to die and leave him the way his mom had, and he pestered Alfred to take Bruce to the hospital for three days straight and had fought nightmares for a month after it happened.

Bruce was fixing Jason with such an odd look right now that Jason wondered if he remembered that, too. “I’m okay,” he said.

Jason just nodded.

The waitress brought the rest of the food and they ate in comfortable silence for a bit.

“Damian made some hummous at my place last week that was better than any restaurant I’ve had here in the states,” Jason finally said. “Has he been cooking with Alfred?”

Bruce nodded and swallowed his food. “Yes. They’re on a mission to recreate every food Damian can remember from Egypt. The list on the fridge is pretty long.” He paused and added, “Some are more successful than others. Tim added some dishes from Russia that he apparently tried on a trip with his parents as a boy and now it’s a significant mission. Dick wanted to add some Romani dishes, but Damian says they have to master his own list first.”

Jason grinned. “Throw on Pork-n-Beans from Park Row for me when you get a chance. That’s some fancy cooking.”

Bruce snorted and Jason’s own smile widened. They chatted about food for a few minutes, and that led them to Damian’s tastes, which led them to Damian’s pets. Jason’s been wanting to ask about this for a while.

“A cow, B? Really?”

Bruce just chuckled. “God help me, I didn’t mean to let him end up with a menagerie, but it’s a better outlet for him than anger, which usually ends with he and Tim breaking something in an honest-to-goodness brawl.”

“They still fight?”

“Not as much as they used to, but Tim is nothing if not expert at button pushing, intentional or no.” He finished his toast and added, “I think the last time they fought the old Tiffany lamp in the den was the victim.”

Jason’s eyes widened. “And Al let them both live?”

“Their chore list increased a great deal for next month.”

It took Jason a minute to catch up, but when he did, “Tim doesn’t even live there full-time anymore. He still has chores?”

“He does after they broke that lamp,” Bruce said with a shrug.

Jason laughed, and Bruce’s chin snapped up at the sound, like he didn’t see that coming. He grinned, too, after a moment.

When the waitress brought them their bill and they finally wandered out of the diner, Jason realized that they never did talk about their case.

[princessamericachavez]

Let’s talk about Fjord

This has been a long time coming, especially given how most of the fandom tends to overlook the depth of Fjord’s past and current trauma or downright vilify him for it... but I’m not here to talk salt, I’m here to talk about all the sweet little tidbits about Fjord we learned tonight in Talks.

So let’s review:

a. Fjord feels more comfortable in the City of Beasts than in the Empire/Menagerie Coast: 

Now, hey, let’s take a break and consider this, yeah? Because Fjord has spent all of his life fighting and denying the “monster” side of him, to the point of self-harm. He’s crafted himself to look and act as an exemplary human (when he doesn’t even know if the non-orc part of his blood is human at all). Only in the past few months with the Mighty Nein has he started to accept himself. Letting his tusks grow —under Jester’s gentle watch— has been a huge step for him and his self-image. 

And yet. When they were traveling across this other lands, we never really saw Fjord complain. He never brought up that he felt watched, that he felt judged, that he felt out of place. That’s just how good his mask is (and part of his “no one cares” mentality that we will touch in a moment). 

He might not even fit in here entirely either —he’s destined to be forever a half-blood no matter where he goes— but the fact that he feels more comfortable here than he ever did before talks about just how deep-rooted his trauma is. As Travis put it “it’s having an interesting effect on him” and hopefully it will be one of further self-acceptance. We already saw him comment to himself that the stubby tusks had helped him intimidate Umanon. The very same thing that ostracized him as a child, is a powerful asset here.

b. Fjord is desperate to connect with his bloodline. 

Now, we’d seen hints of this longing before. On a meta-level, there was Travis complaining that Fjord didn’t get to meet the lonely half-orc on their way North, but we’ve also had several IC hints. Consider how Fjord found an orcish tusk in Lorenzo’s bag of teeth and kept it. Think about the value he puts into family. Think about him saying, of course, Jester would want to meet her dad. Think about the weight and importance he puts in the family. Think about how set he is in reuniting families —be it Jester with her mom or Nott with her son or even Beau with her estranged parents. Think about him choosing to name himself Captain Tusktooth of all things and despite his lack of them.

The way Travis put it tonight, though, wasn’t just curiosity, it was desperation. It was the need to sit down and ask “are you a monster, for real? Am I really a monster, too?” It’s just the need to be acknowledged. It’s the need to understand what it is in his blood that has made him a target all of his life. It’s getting some damn answers for once. It’s being a part of something. 

And how heartbreaking is it that his first proper encounter with his own species had to be this three drunken assholes that tried to hurt his friends and disregarded him as a weakling? And, yet, how satisfying is it that he got himself and his friends out of that problem, not by force but by outwitting them? By taking this side of him that he’s carefully crafted through his painful youth and using it to get the upper hand?

c. Fjord’s “tough love” and understanding of the world. 

Listen, as much as the two previous things were sad, I think nothing broke my heart as hearing Travis talk about Fjord’s perspective of the world. It makes sense, though. Of course, it does. He grew a nobody in an orphanage where he suffered at hands of other children and was probably never aided or defended by a single caring soul. What does it do to a child, to grow knowing no one is going to come to your rescue? That no one cares? That no one will?

And then Vandran, the one person that has apparently shown Fjord the most kindness in his life, reinforcing this idea, telling him “yes, no one cares, no one is going to care about your problems, so you just deal with them and keep pushing forward”. Of course, Fjord grabbed that ideology —that already aligned with his perspective of the world— and held on to it, turned it into a shield with which he could face an uncaring world. As “tough love” as it is, Vandran gave him a tool to turn his pain and anger into a way to keep moving. Was it the most emotionally healthy advice? Probably not, but it kept Fjord alive.

We’ve seen the side effects of this attitude come and bite Fjord in the ass, though. From not sharing his Uk’otoa dreams at first because they are his problem to deal with, to taking in the responsibility to deal with Avantika and the whole pirate deal... it’s made his allies distrust him, thinking he withholds information out of shadiness rather than a sense of sole responsibility for his issues. Like, think of being sure that the M9 would not come and rescue him from the slavers. After being rescued, he tells Beau and Caleb that he did not expect them to come. Why would he. No one ever has. No one has ever cared. He tells them he expects better of himself because that’s the only person he’s ever really been able to rely on. 

Until now. Until the Mighty Nein. After being rescued, he tells them that he hasn’t had many kindnesses directed at him in his life, and as much as it sounds like a “cool guy” line, really, really, really think how real that is, how much pain there was in Fjord’s shaky breathless laugh as he said it. I don’t care what anyone says or thinks, Travis is fucking BRILLIANT roleplayer that has been planting the seeds and hints of Fjord’s trauma and pain, playing the subtle long game, really thinking deeply about how his past affects him and it’s all slowly boiling to the surface and it’s perfect.

Going back to how the M9 have changed Fjord’s perspective, though, think about how much they care. They do care, and they show it, and they help, and show up, and go out of their way to help and protect Fjord in a way no one ever has before. 

Jester bribing someone to get Fjord a recommendation later just because he said he wanted to get into a super fancy magic academy. Beau, Caleb, Nott and Molly risking (and giving) their lives to rescue him and the others from the slavers. They spent months out in the open see and surrounded by pirates and death threats just to help him get answers about his powers and his mentor. Jester yelling “don’t worry Fjord, you’re going to be okay!” or “I’ll protect you, Fjord!” and assuring him “I’ll heal you if you start to hurt”, keeping his secrets about his past, constantly asking about how he feels and what he wants and what he needs. My dudes (forgive me as I get momentarily shippy) but when Travis says Fjord is in awe of Jester’s light and happiness, how he’s never met anyone like her, how her light is contagious... the more we learn about the shadows in Fjord’s past, the more apparent it becomes how significant her light is to him (platonically or otherwise)

And speaking of light, fourth and final matter

d. Fjord is looking for an out. 

And not just any out. Fjord is looking for a higher power to help him stop Uk’otoa or, at the very least, break his connection to the serpent. 

And here is where I throw a huge HAH to anyone who claimed Fjord to be evil, shady, power-hungry or willing to betray everyone or some shit. 

My guys, Fjord is willing to give up the very power that —for the first time in his life— has allowed him to defend himself and those he loves, just to do the right thing. Fjord is actively thinking of ways to fix his situation. Fjord is step by step turning his back on the dark promise of rewards and reaching for the light like a drowning man.

How will that look, you ask? Well, Travis did bring up a significant word tonight: Paladin. 

From a purely ttrpg point of view, all Fjord needs to multiclass to Paladin is a couple extra strength points that he could easily get the next time he can up his stats. 

From a narrative point of view, though, how wonderful would it be? This boy, this man, who grew up being shunned, hated, attacked, disregarded as a monstrosity... This kid who everyone called an evil shady monster, who people distrust on sight, who didn’t think himself important enough to be helped by anyone... 

I would KILL for paladin Fjord. Like, shutting up every single person (in and out of game) that called him evil or a monster by becoming a god's champion, a paragon of good, literal knight in shining armor, tusks and all. TUSKS AND ALL. 

Jester seeing Fjord in full armor, shining like the sun with a light of his own, blessed by a deity of his own, tall and proud... and her just being filled with pride, telling him “see, Fjord? I told you, you’re just like a knight in shining armor!”

I’m curious as to which god Fjord would choose to follow, though. 

The Wildmother might seem like a far fit given how different Caduceus’s approach to, well, everything is to Fjord, but reading up on her she’s “the goddess of wilderness and the sea. She watches over nature, good harvest, grants protection from washing away in storms, guides the passage of ships, and protects smaller folk” which seems like SUPER fitting given Fjord’s backstory. 

The Moonweaver would be an interesting nod to Molly’s faith, but also a good fit to Fjord’s tendencies towards hiding his true self behind a perfect mask since she “is a chaotic good deity of moonlight and the autumn season, as well as the patron of illusions and misdirection [...]  she is largely considered to be the deity of love and protector of the trysts of lovers. Those who work in secrecy and trickery often ask for her blessing.” (also Fjord needs all the luck in love he can get)

The Changebringer is an interesting option too, I think, since she “is the goddess of freedom, trade, travel, and adventure. She encourages her followers to venture into the unknown” and we all know how curious and impulsive Fjord can be, it’d be fun for him to have a deity that encourages his thirst for adventure now that he’s enjoying his new life and getting to know and do more than he ever dreamed.

The Stormlord is a weird mix since he’s the god of war and fighting but also worshipped by sailors of the Menagerie Coast, which Fjord could feel closer too. 

(also either the Stormlord or the Wildmother might have some kind of direct interest in Uk’otoa not rising again, so they seem likely to help)

I —for one— would love to see Fjord as a paladin of the Traveler, just because the idea is hilarious and I have no idea how it would work.

Either way, though, Fjord has a super interesting road ahead. His past and present are coming to the surface and this arc his subtly giving us a lot of what will shape his future.

Tl;dr: Fjord is a good boy who has suffered a lot and I will fight the next person that calls him evil. 

[invertedeidolon]

The Longest Library #5: The Crying Sisters by Mabel Seely

(This is a series in which I attempt to read and review all (or most of) my library of 297 books.)

Rundown: A librarian wishes for a little more excitement in her life and IMMEDIATELY regrets it. Goes to a resort with a stranger, hired to look after his kid. His kid is cute but he may or may not be a fucking literal murderer?? We don’t know!! 4/5, good suspense, great pacing, a steady read that won’t make you obsessively read for three days straight, but it will definitely overtake your lunch breaks.

This entry took me a little longer, not because it was a bad book, but because for roughly two or so weeks I got caught up in mental health shite and had to re-tweak my schedule YET AGAIN and force a half hour of reading in the mornings to make sure I actually had time to read. This book was wonderful.

I think this book marks the first actually good mystery I’ve ever read. Considering I never read mysteries, and the first one I read was catballs mcgee over here. There are some reviews that seem to be bothered by the authors occasional tendency to mention something and then go “I had no idea that would be so important at the time”. Personally, I loved it. It put me in a further state of suspense, and it had me attempting to put more things together. There’s not enough info to pin one person down, and the really obvious choice is a REALLY obvious choice, and the main heroine constantly agonizes over it, so you know the book wouldn’t do THAT, but still... what if? The very last resort my mind ended up going to in a lazy scooby doo kind of way ended up being right, but the intricacies of their place in the whole plot was still a surprise.

No, the super conservative prude witch lady had absolutely nothing to do with any of it, she was just unpleasant.

A really cool thing about this book, at least the copy that I have, is that it’s a reprint from 1944, during the war. There’s a little note in the front about book cloth shortage because of war-time rationing (you can see it in my instagram post here). So instead it was bound in a ‘sturdy paper fabric’ instead. That, plus the aging of the paper, give it a really smooth and airy feel, for a book. I love holding this thing.

Okay, onto quotes.

We already start off strong with the writer’s description of oppressive summer heat:

“In the afternoon I was a cooking waffle between two irons, the steely paving and the chromium sky; heat from below pressed up and heat from above pressed down until the juice oozed out of my bones and each eye was a separate furnace”

Hot damn that’s a HOT day.

“My imagination worked overtime a bit, but the last thing I would ever have thought was that that revolver would come into my possession”

There’s that hinting that people were talking about. But it wasn’t useless or meandering. This line appears on page seven and become EXTREMELY pertinent by the end of the story. I don’t mind hinting if it isn’t useless without giving too much away. We have no idea about the circumstances of how she gets the gun, but all we know is that she gets it, and that’s just a tiny bit exciting already. The author putting a little foreshadowing in front of us directly didn’t bother me because not only was it immediately relevant (usually within a chapter or so), but also relevant in an even more significant way by the end of the book.

“...if Cottie calls me mamma, then anyone who hears him will think I’m your wife.” “I won’t.” It was cold enough to douse me the rest of the way back to sanity. “I’m sorry, I’ve changed my mind. I‘m not going.” His answer came with the tired reasonableness of a construction boss rebuking a steel riveter who complains he is afraid of high places. “Aw, quit being a sissy pants.” Sissy pants! Before I could recover he had elbowed me aside, and was inside my car.”

What the FUCK. What a little shit! Holy fuck! This man makes me feel offended and incredulous like an amish spinster looking at capri pants! Like what the fuck!!!!

“I can see, now, how expertly he handled me, how exactly he conveyed the right amount of disinterest in me, how he goaded me into staying.”

This man is a fucking EXPERT at manipulating the heroine. Your own mind sort of starts to soften to him the further you read, because like the heroine, in the beginning there’s no reason to like or tolerate the man, but as you go on, it becomes a necessary evil if you want to figure out what the FUCK is going on. I also started to get just as curious as to who he really was and what business he had at the resort. (by the end of the book I came to understand it’s a lot like how Kain had to handle Raziel: You can’t reveal too much or you risk your plans going astray, but for fuck’s sake Kain, you could be way less of an ass about it, you know?)

“Whatever had been done in the resort tonight, for whatever reason a woman had screamed, he was staying. The cot creaked lengthily as he lay down. I tried, with an effect of pressing a lid down on a kettle that bubbled and boiled over, to suppress my expectant terror.”

Damn that’s a good description of that feeling. I used to get that way when I heard stuff at night and my (at the time) untreated, panic prone brain immediately went “IT’S A CRIMINAL, A MURDERER, A CRIMURDERER, YOU MOVE AND YOU DIE”

“Mrs. Clapshaw carried herself like a small dragoon and had a nose like a thin white claw. I thought she’d be the acid test. “A scream?” She repeated rapidly, reaching upward with the nose. “Mrs. Corbett, I’m so glad you heard it. It’s the Reds. I’ve told Mr. Loxton here. There are un-American activities going on at that Flaming Door. Nazis.” She bit at her decisive words as they went past her teeth.”

Oh my god. Thankfully we don’t really deal with this lady for long, but holy fuck. The heroine wisely doesn’t spend any more time with her on purpose.

“You can decide to treat me like a person or I leave. I don’t like being pushed over or taunted or overruled or spoken to contemptuously. I can leave here today. It’s my car.” “Sure. Why don’t you?” Why is it that being invited to make good on a threat makes you want to change your mind? As usual when I’m pushed over the edge of anger, I couldn’t find words, and stood sputtering.”

The thing about Steve (this asshole’s name is Steve) is that he doesn’t force her to stay. He makes it quite clear in his smug little way that she always had the choice to leave at literally any time, and many times gives her orders knowing full well she can very well disobey them (and she does at times). She has a gun. Why doesn’t she shoot him? Go to the sheriff? But just. God. The man is infuriating and uncomfortably manipulative, but when immersed in the book, it becomes something mildly amusing, although the real world implications and usage of this kind of manipulation are sobering. The curiosity overrode everything else.

“I didn’t know how difficult it was going to be to keep out of Mr. Sprung’s way, or for what a long section of the chain he was going to be responsible.”

Another hint. The heroine frequently refers to the thread of the mystery as a chain (i.e: Chain of events), and it’s used fairly frequently through the book, sometimes in creative ways. There’s a moment where she realizes she’s reached the point of no return, that she’s in too deep, and goes on to describe how she can feel the chain whipping around her and binding her.

“Something would come of this night business now. I had in an instant a hundred blinding expectations -- a shot through the door, harsh angry voices calling to open, Steve Corbett rushing to attack the source of the light, men tramping in to say he was caught. My internal arrangements drew out into a rope and then tied themselves into one tight knot as I sat there with all animation suspended.”

Night noises be like that though. Man, these descriptions of the heroine’s internal reactions to things have been excellent!

“I’d heard that thin, high tone before. I’d heard it walking along a country road with telephone wires over my head and a wind in the wires. It was eerie in the wires. It was deadly in the man’s voice.”

“The boy was the man’s son, and the man loved him almost with agony. Yet last night he had walked out of the cottage into some circumstance he thought might be so dangerous he might never come back.”

“Suddenly I was shaking again, clutching Steve Corbett’s arm. He wasn’t shaking, but the muscles hardened as my fingers grasped; it was like touching a sleeve holding a warm marble arm. Had this been the arm I fought against last night?”

“The eyes above me had the same blue-metal gleam as the revolver’s mouth.”

The author does a fantastic job of making Steve Corbett seem like a very threatening potential murderer, nearly everything around him is foggy, suspicious, and mildly threatening in it’s implications, and yet there’s never enough solid evidence to truly pin anything on him. Both myself and the heroine could only stand by and watch further with a distinct sense of unease as everything unfolded both too quickly and not quickly enough.

“If tampering with the truth was illegal, the sheriff was a bit unlawful himself. “She couldn’t see, it was black as pitch,” Niddie denied weakly. “So there was something to see!” Niddie wasn’t the stuff of Hoxie Moebbels; once the sheriff had an opening wedge he weakened quickly.”

I like the sheriff a lot.

“I had hardly heard her. The corner of my eye had caught the stubby white patent-leather sandals on her feet. Caught between the heel and the instep of one sandal was a dry scrap of plantain leaf.”

So, something that annoyed me a little bit in the last mystery, was that the glimpses of suspicion raising evidence sometimes didn’t mean anything. They’re were just like ‘ooooo, suspicious!!!! It MEANS something!!!’. Here the narrator (our heroine) seems way more credible, relatable, and the events preceding it turns this into a massive clue. AND it’s later actually relevant, and NOT evidence of the heroine being (understandably) paranoid!

“If ever there was an evil-eyed harridan, I thought, she was it. I wondered what had built the immense familiarity with the worst impulses of men, that lay in her eyes, the thickness of her slow, significant voice, the turn of her hands, the slide of her thick hips.”

Another good description of yet another extremely suspicious person.

“We called hello in return, Carol prinking and smiling.”

Autocorrect can’t tell me that’s not a word.

prink /priNGk/ verb spend time making minor adjustments to one's appearance; primp. "prinking themselves in front of the mirror"

Ah, so nowadays we would more readily recognize ‘primping’ as opposed to this one. Nice! I learned a new word!

“In a white rayon bathing suit her figure was as plushly luscious as an overstuffed pink satin davenport.”

So she’s cute chubby! Nice! I assume this is roughly the era or coming from a writer from an era that was just on the edge of where being ‘too skinny’ was a REALLY bad thing.

“Look, Janet.” It was the first time he’d used my name.”

213 pages in. What a piece of work.

“Wasn’t it too bad I couldn’t be placated by an ice-cream cone, I thought grimly, as I went to obey orders.”

Me too, Janet. Me too.

“This was the sheriff to whom I held with the emotion portrayed by the girl in the old oleograph of the storm swept cross.”

If anybody knows what painting this is, that would be fantastic. I can only barely imagine it based on context, but that’s about it.

The quotes and the commentary are more sparse here at the end because I don’t want to give too much away. 

This was a book that I genuinely enjoyed, and I could easily recommend it for some casual but still absorbing reading. They still print this book in paperback now, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find, it’s just me that has the old as balls copy. 

Good shit!

[kagehinataboke]

*puts his hands around his mouth to make a megaphone and starts screaming like i went crazy* TODABAKU FAKE-DATING, TODOBAKU FAKE-DATING!!!!!!!!! TODOBAKU!!!!!!! FAKE!!!!!!!!!! DATING!!!!!!!!!!!

UM FUCK YES BRUH, YOU GOT IT 👏🏻💯

B L E SS

tdbk: [20] fake-dating

***

Most normal single people, when faced with the holidays, would do what any normal person would: make excuses to their family. They’ll avoid the topic of significant others and instead discuss how great the food is and how big the kids have gotten, and oh, she’s in college now? They grow up so fast.

Unfortunately, Bakugou isn’t one of those people. He, when faced with the scrutiny of his family, chooses to lie to their faces. This involves a lot more work than it’s probably worth, but he’d rather deep-throat a cactus than deal with Mitsuki’s matchmaking all through the holiday season. Last year he was forced to go on eighteen different dates over Christmas break: not fucking again.

Finding a fake date is not nearly as hard as it should be, which Bakugou supposes is a good thing. A simple ad, and he has someone named Fuyumi who’s willing to pretend-date him for the Christmas season. Things couldn’t be more perfect. That is, until the day he’s supposed to introduce his ‘girlfriend’ to his parents. 

Fuyumi texts him a fucking novel fifteen minutes before their scheduled meet-up time. The more he reads, the more stressed out Bakugou gets. Tl;dr: she can’t make it and is sending her younger brother in her place.

I didn’t pay for a date with your fucking kid brother, Bakugou wants to tell her, but he’s sitting in a public café with five minutes left till Fuyumi’s replacement arrives. After that, it’s a straight drive to his parents’ house: there isn’t anything he can do at this point. Still, what the fuck is he supposed to do? “Hey Mom and Dad, meet my boyfriend who will be staying with us for two weeks.” Yeah, that conversation will go smoother than a fucking run-over box of granola.

“Are you Bakugou?”

Bakugou sighs through his teeth. “That’s me.” Ready to face the firing squad, he adds silently, then nearly chokes on his coffee. He was prepared for a lot of things, but not this.

When Fuyumi said her little brother, Bakugou immediately assumed he’d be a kid, but this guy can’t be any younger than Bakugou himself. Not only that, but he looks like a fucking model. The longer Bakugou stares at him, the more handsome he gets. Perfect—albeit weird—hair, long eyelashes, pale skin, amazing proportions… Fuck, this guy is a million times prettier than his sister.

“Oh, good. I’m Todoroki Shouto. My sister said you’d be expecting me.”

Bakugou closes his mouth before he can start drooling and clears his throat. “Uh, yeah… Sit down.”

His original plan was to say “Fuck you and fuck off,” but he’s afraid it might come out as “Fuck me,” instead. Damn, this guy is just so good-looking… Bakugou’s parents won’t even care if he brings a man home, as long as the man looks like this. Maybe this can work.

Todoroki sits across from him, brushing strands of red-and-white hair away from his forehead. “If you don’t mind me asking… why are you looking for a fake-date in the first place, Bakugou-san?”

It takes Bakugou more than ten seconds to pull himself back together and reply, “My family is too nosy, so this is the simplest way to avoid being annoyed all break.” God, sitting five feet away from this guy is turning him stupid. Maybe he’s gay, after all.

“Ah, I see.” Todoroki’s perfect lips pull into a frown. “Wouldn’t it be easier to avoid going home for the break?”

“They kick university students out of the dorms over break,” Bakugou mutters, staring at his coffee instead of Todoroki’s diamond-cut cheekbones. “My friends all went home, and I have nowhere else to stay. Great, huh?”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” Todoroki says in a worryingly decisive way. “I’m happy to help you any way I can. Fuyumi said you were planning to discuss the details?”

“Yeah… On the way.”

“Excellent: let’s get going, then.”

***

“Are you sure you can handle this?”

“You don’t have to worry about me: I got it.”

“I’m not worried about you, fuckhead, I’m worried about me. If my family doesn’t buy this I’m screwed.” Bakugou pauses outside his parents’ front door to take Todoroki by the shoulders. “God, your fucking shoulders are firm. Ugh, I mean… are you sure you can handle this?”

“Your mother is Mitsuki, your father is Masaru, your aunt is Masako, your uncle is Eiji—but he isn’t here because Mitsuki doesn’t like him,” Todoroki recites diligently. “Want me to keep going?”

“No, I get it… Sorry, I’m just nervous.” Bakugou lets Todoroki go after one last squeeze—his subscapularis is insane. “Uh… Let’s go in. Remember to call me by my first name.”

“Got it, Katsuki.”

Lord, he’s going to die… Bakugou mentally staunches a nosebleed and rings the doorbell, praying that all goes well.

Unfortunately, Mitsuki answers the door, which is already a bad sign. “Katsuki, you’re late,” she snaps. “Everyone is waiting for you! Hurry up!” She grabs him and Todoroki by the sleeves and yanks them into a living room full of Bakugou’s distant relatives—who definitely weren’t waiting for him, by the way.

Bakugou’s father appears out of the cocktail of people, looking meekly overwhelmed. “Oh, Katsuki, welcome back… Who’s your friend?”

Oh god, here it goes… Bakugou takes a deep breath and raises his voice just enough to be heard over the commotion. “Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend!”

On the word ‘boyfriend’ the whole room somehow goes dead silent. Bakugou wants to take one of the little plastic sporks sitting on the snack table and impale himself, but there’s no clear path to reach it. Todoroki isn’t helping matters. He takes Bakugou’s hand, smiles in a heart-melting way, and says, “Nice to meet you,” in the softest fucking voice on the planet.

Bakugou half-expects someone to flip the coffee table, but in an unexpected turn of events, every single female relative in the house appears in a flash of perfume and estrogen.

“My, so handsome—and tall, too!”

“Are you a model, young man? You must be with these looks!”

“Yes, and what attracted you to an angry boy like Katsuki? He’s only good-looking when he sleeps!”

“Hey, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Bakugou protests, only to be ignored while another wave of compliments are directed at Todoroki. This bastard looks calm as can be. Is he a professional actor?

Dammit… This is going to be a long two weeks.

***

Bakugou’s family likes Todoroki more than they like him. Hell: after a week of living with the guy, Bakugou is starting to feel the same. He’s beyond polite, good at everything, and hotter than Tokyo pavement in mid-July. There’s one serious problem with him, though: he’s too perfect, and Bakugou is scared that he’s head-over-heels for him.

They’ve held hands, hugged, kissed… Fuck, what haven’t they done to preserve the stupid lie? Bakugou has tried to pretend that sharing a house with Todoroki is nothing more than a means to an end, but he can’t deny his feelings. He’s utterly fucked—and, unfortunately, not by Todoroki.

He can’t say any of this out loud, obviously. Not only does a confession risk his cover, but Todoroki might— No, Todoroki will definitely be freaked out and want to leave. Bakugou will have to keep his mouth shut until the week is over and he can actually afford to be reckless.

That was the plan, at least. Bakugou should really just stop making plans, because they always get ruined. This time by Todoroki, who’s sitting on their ‘shared’ bed with a frown and a low-cut yukata. “Oh good, you’re back… I want to talk.”

Bakugou carefully avoids the danger-zone of the bed, leaning against the opposite wall. “What about?”

“This. You.” Todoroki pauses. “I mean… me. Can I start over?”

“Please.”

“Alright, well… I’ll just say it, then.” Todoroki presses his fingertips together, glancing up at Bakugou through his eyelashes. “The truth is, I think I’m in—“

Bakugou doesn’t let him say anything else. Hell, he wasn’t even listening to anything he said after ‘I’ll just say it.’ The enclosed space and the yukata and just… Todoroki is all too much to bear, and Bakugou doesn’t care anymore. If he gets punched, at least it’ll be by an incredibly hot guy. That’s what he tells himself while straddling Todoroki’s hips and shamelessly tongue-Yahtzeeing him.

Damn, he tastes as perfect as he looks. Fuck this guy and his minty fresh everything. This fucking yukata doesn’t cover enough skin—or maybe it covers too much. Either way, it has to go. Off off off.

“Katsuki, Shouto, are you up?”

Bakugou finds himself on the floor in an instant. Todoroki somehow kneed him in the chest, sat up, and fixed his yukata within the five seconds it took Bakugou’s aunt to open the door. It must be some kind of record.

“We were just about to go to sleep, auntie,” the bastard says with a perfect smile. “Did you need something?”

Masako looks from a red-faced Bakugou, still on the floor, to Todoroki and back. “Um… not at all. Goodnight now.” She disappears in a blink, hopefully not to go spread rumors about them.

When she’s gone, Todoroki puts a protective arm across his chest before glancing at Bakugou. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to hit you so hard. I was surprised.”

“It didn’t even hurt,” Bakugou lies, pulling himself up carefully. “Fuck, I’m the one who should apologize… I jumped you.”

“Oh? That part is fine, though.”

“…What?”

“That part is fine,” Todoroki repeats slowly. “I was trying to tell you before, but… I think I really do like you. I know it will complicate things, and my plan was to wait, but I—“

“You’re fucking kidding,” Bakugou interrupts disbelievingly. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m serious.” Todoroki bites his lip. “I know it’s cliché… This whole situation is difficult, but in the end, I just couldn’t—“

“Me too.” Bakugou can tell Todoroki is about to go off on a tangent, and he isn’t about to let this insanely perfect opportunity go to waste. “I like you, too, okay? You don’t have to say anything else.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah. Now shut the fuck up and kiss me before I change my mind.”

Damn, Bakugou knows he’s in deep now… He just can’t seem to make himself care.

[hellyeahomeland]

“Chalk One Up” | Directed by Seith Mann, Cinematography by David Klein

The episode opens with Carrie arriving from a long night out doing… God knows what with God knows who. We love the starkness of this close-up on the exterminated motorcycle light. According to Lesli Linka Glatter, this mode of transport is based on a real life story: 

“The scene where she gets out of the embassy was based on the real agent who Carrie is based on. She was based in Iraq at the time and that’s how she got out: by dressing as a man and traveling on a motorcycle. So, we used that for this. Also, you can’t leave in Kabul without an armored vehicle.”

...as the camera slowly pans up to reveal it’s Carrie underneath that (gigantor) motorcycle helmet, the question becomes clear: where the fuck was she? 

Sara loved these scenes between Samira and her friend. Homeland has depicted several cities in the Middle East over the years but has rarely given us glimpses into the world outside the walls of a hotel or CIA station, especially without our main characters. The market that Samira and her friend walk through is vibrant and filled with color, as are their outfits. It’s a stark contrast to the interiors of the CIA station. And Samira’s line that the Taliban didn’t go away but were no longer hiding proves remarkably predictive of the rest of the episode’s events.

The real highlight of the scene is the selfie, of course. We love the detail of the man on the far, far left being cut out. Samira’s friend is the master of the one-arm selfie! 

This shot of the various players at the Kabul station looking outward at Carrie is striking. It’s almost a reverse fish bowl. Carrie remains on the outside but everyone’s looks are in her direction. Jenna standing at the front of the room further suggests she was never “stuck in the starting gate.” She’s in the same position of power in that room as the Chief of Station and the commanding military officer at right. From afar, the dynamics are almost similar to early season one, Carrie running an ops meeting with Saul by her side. All of which is to say… is Jenna the Carrie to Mike’s Saul?

Dog.

This was such a specific detail that we thought it required pointing out, but 27 is not a significant number on this show (at least that we can remember), so we’re not sure why they bothered to show this. 

...unless it’s a reference to the general ominousness of the 27 Club and a hint that Carrie (who, to be fair, is far past the age of 27) is going to die. 

This week the show confirmed that Tasneem is the Director of the ISI. Which means that (after President Elizabeth Keane) she’s the second most powerful woman ever depicted on this show. And boy does she dress the part! 

Tasneem’s all-white ensemble is attention-grabbing and distinctive (the other women in this frame are dressed in dark clothes). It’s also visually similar--especially with her long, black hair peeking through the sheer fabric of her headscarf--to the dress worn by several other men at the reception.

Homeland has told lots of stories over the years--whether intentional or otherwise--about the challenges women face living in a patriarchal, misogynist society. Whether it’s Martha losing her career because her loser husband couldn’t stand having a wife who was more powerful and smarter than he…. Or Allison dying in the back of a car near the Russian border in an act of scorned lover revenge. Or Carrie, screaming and crying at the end of “The Vest”... but being right the whole time. 

Or, as Abigail Nussbaum said more elegantly than we ever could: 

“Carrie is, in many ways, a boogeyman; she is what professional women, and particularly ones in male-dominated professions, have been taught never to become - emotional, hysterical, crazy. Emotion is how women who want to be taken seriously are undermined and dismissed. Even if you’re perfectly sane, being emotional - and most especially, being angry - devalues you and your professional contribution. A woman can be called crazy simply for behaving like a normal human being rather than a robot (and of course, if she behaves robotically and unemotionally, she’s a cold bitch). But Carrie isn’t simply emotional (though she is that too, and worst of all, she allows her feelings for a man to cloud her judgment) - she actually is crazy and hysterical, in the proper clinical sense rather than the exaggerated one which attaches to any feminine display of emotion, and profoundly pathetic and unattractive in that state. And she’s completely right, the only person who figures out Brody and Abu Nazir’s plans and motivations, and the person who saves the day by being hysterical, infecting Brody’s daughter with enough of that hysteria that she calls her father and convinces him not to blow himself up.

It’s certainly possible to read this arc as purely tragic, Carrie’s self-destruction being the cost of saving the world (though this is a character arc that is applied to men as often as women, for example in Thomas Harris’s Red Dragon), but to my mind its effect is more complex. It makes a crazy, hysterical woman into a hero without in any way mitigating her craziness or hysteria, and thus defangs the argument that emotion in women is a weakness. It’s the rational, sane men around Carrie, who turn away from her unattractive mania with distaste and embarrassment, who are blind and incompetent, and it’s that same inability to look past surfaces that leads them to put their trust, wrongfully, in Brody - just as Carrie performs hysterical femininity, Brody performs stalwart masculinity. Both are misleading.”

All of which is to say, we’re really fucking pumped to see how Tasneem’s role expands for the rest of the season, and we think the array of women in Tasneem, Carrie, and Jenna and their varying degrees of power is going to be really interesting to see unfold. 

Sara is obsessed with this shot. She’s obsessed with the set design of Samira’s apartment. She’s obsessed with this moody lighting. She’s basically just obsessed. 

Last week we had a slow pan around Jalal to reveal Tasneem. This week we have a similar slow pan around Carrie to reveal Jenna. This definitely means that Sara’s theory that Jenna will “single white female” Carrie is right on track. 

Also, Gail hereby declares Carrie’s delicate silver jewelry her “FULL circle earrings,” because everything is coming full circle this episode, including accessories.

That said, we can’t deny the power of this shot. First, we have to note what’s going on in the background (which is actually in focus). President Beau has just arrived off Air Force One and immediately stops for a photo op with the Afghan president. From the beginning, the show is clear this is an optics-based trip. 

But we really love this image of Carrie and Jenna (out of focus, but in the foreground) side by side. Again, they mirror each other, but in opposite ways (“So they’re mirror opposites?” --Sara’s brain). Carrie’s light hair versus Jenna’s dark hair. Jenna’s light jacket versus Carrie’s dark one. It’s eerie.

On the podcast we talked at length about the scene between Beau and Carrie. It’s genuinely moving. The staging of it is unique as well. The camera shoots them both at the same height. They stand close together. Ironically, the power dynamic seems almost equal. He’s one of the few people who’s ever acknowledged the sacrifices she’s made in service of her country. 

Their twin smiles here are all the more tragic following the sequence of events that closes the episode. They all sincerely want peace. So many characters smile real, genuine smiles this week. That’s not a normal Homeland occurrence! 

And they all legitimately believe in what they’re doing. They believe they’re doing the right thing. Maybe they are. But partly out of necessity, and partly out of more selfish desires (Hayes later says it’s all about getting a second term), they get caught up in the theater of it all. They make poor decisions. They take the wrong risks.

Every so often in this series we have to abandon screenshots in favor of gifs in order to truly capture ~the moment~ and this is one of those times! The way Claire plays Carrie’s reaction here is so specific, so nuanced and strange and wonderful. These “lived in” moments are something we’ll really miss when the show is over.

IJLTP.

We’ve all been there, Carrie. 

This is another interesting shot choice. We’re not sure what its purpose is, other than to add interest to a fairly run-of-the-mill scene. But still, the set design! *heart eyes* 

Sara’s note for this shot was “Saul is so extra.” We talked about genuine and sincere smiles above and Saul’s here does qualify… sort of. This is halfway between genuine and self-aggrandizing. AKA “where Saul lives 100% of the time.” He looks like a director about to screen his short film at Sundance. The red curtains parting slowly behind him are Too Much.

Tasneem and G’ulom are the kids in the back of the classroom who are so fucking done with this shit but can’t leave because they’ll get detention. We will continue to stan. 

It’s a classic Homeland device to show a significant moment from a variety of perspectives, especially if those perspectives involve screens. The multitude of angles on Beau’s speech here reminded us a lot of Keane’s resignation speech in the Oval Office in “Paean to the People.” Coincidentally, that was her last hurrah as president too. 

(P.S. Another Saul over-the-shoulder shot!)

Two selfies in one episode! 

We loved the payoff to Max’s subplot. For once this season the weird LA filter actually looks nice! These are beautiful shots and the reflection in Max’s glasses is especially striking. 

The skull and crossbones on the barracks is an ominious detail. As is the rock labeled “Boredom Rock.” Death and boredom really have been the two extremes of Max’s stint at the combat outpost.

We’re still divided on the merits of the “Carrie has to save Samira” storyline, but the camerawork here, with Carrie’s armed hands appearing out of nowhere, was pretty cool. 

This RPG shot was one of the cooler special effects the show has done in a while. The entire sequence of Chalk One looking for Chalk Two was tense and thrilling and extremely well-executed.

Bringing us back to the ops room, the “LOSS OF SIGNAL” projected now for both helicopters is pretty chilling.

This is now Sara’s favorite shot of the entire series and we’d be remiss if we didn’t mention that it’s another over-the-shoulder Saul shot. This time he observes one of the crowning achievements of his long career literally blowing up in his face. 

Visually, this shot anchors the viewer back to the Carrie/Saul relationship, the central one of the show. The black blankness--and the failure it represents--engulfs the frame. 

We love the choice to end the episode on Carrie alone. It refocuses the event back to her. The horror in her eyes, welling up with tears, is palpable. How does Carrie feel? Alex Gansa explained that the writers wanted to create a new 9/11 with this maybe-assassination of the president. And it’s a fitting bookend for the show in many ways. In Homeland’s pilot, Carrie says she “missed something that day,” misdirecting blame to herself for not preventing 9/11. Now, in the final season, the show seems poised to tell a story in which Carrie is blamed for the “new 9/11.” 

Strap in, folks. It’s gonna be a rough ride. 

[smolbeandrabbles]

Rumor - Martin x Reader Drabble (Untogether)

Much more obvious sequel to Home Alone Tonight I guess I just couldn’t leave it at “Do you...?”

Author’s Note: I just can’t leave things without endings I suppose... And this completes this story.  Everything I said about ‘Get Even’ applies here... But that thematic thread could be far from over... if you want to find out, well, you know what to do... 😏

Disclaimer: I don’t own characters / lyrics / GIFs. Emma Forrest is a gift ❤  Reader / Plot = Mine.

Premise: After your late night, barely sober, conversation with Martin leaves you needing answers, you fly to LA to find out if you really are just friends...

Words: 1716

Warnings: Swearing

Girl, you know I've known you forever How many nights we hung out together My boys are laughing and tap me on the shoulder Making a motion like, "Could y'all get any closer?" They wanna know what's up why I'm still holding ya Even when the song is over

There's a rumor going 'round about me and you... So tell me why we even trying to deny this feeling I feel it, don't you feel it too? There's a rumor going 'round, and 'round, and 'round What d'you say we make it true? Well I can shut 'em down, tell 'em all they're crazy I can do whatever you want me to do, baby Or you could lay one on me right now We could really give them something to talk about?

Oh, be honest, girl, now Do you want to do this or not? Should we keep them talking, girl Or should we just make 'em stop?  ---

He'd flown back to LA without giving you a real answer. And you hadn't given him one either. When you were younger, yes, you'd had a huge crush on Martin and yes you'd thought about it. But you had such a great friendship the last thing you had ever wanted was to mess that up.  You weren't sure if he'd ever had a thing for you, but that late night half-sober 'confession' seem to suggest he might have.  Point was, neither of you were going to act on it right then and there, because if it became a rebound thing, for both of you, and didn't work - what a waste of a friendship. You weren't about to do that to each other. Still, you'd promised as soon as things were settled you'd go and visit him in LA.He'd called you up and asked you to come nearly every day until you gave in. You weren't sure how settled things really were. But you wanted to see Martin again.  You couldn't keep that conversation out of your head. You got the feeling he couldn't either. It wasn't something you'd regret. You just didn't want to screw up the friendship you had... On the other hand, wasn't that just as likely to cement a strong relationship? You kinda hoped so... * Martin picked you up from the airport with a big smile and an even bigger hug; "WELCOME TO HOME AWAY FROM HOME!"  You laughed "Oh, uh huh?!" "Why has it taken you SO long!?" "I think a bunch of times I've suggested it to you, you say you miss Melbourne too much and you'll make the trip instead." "Oh!" he rolled his eyes "Yeah. Okay. That's my fault. Of course!" You smacked his arm playfully "I didn't say that!" He held his hand out for yours; "Didn't matter, you thought it!" His grin was teasing. You took his hand "Well, Ok. Maybe!" "HA!"  "So, go on. What are we doing?" "Thought I'd take you out with the guys, y'know." "Oh! Why is that?" "More our age aren't they." "WOAH-! Rude!" "I didn't say you were-! STOP IT!" He was referring to the look you were giving him "RUDE! MARTIN! SO RUDE!" "Look! Just! Quit it! It's drinks - in a good bar... it's even got a dancefloor, you happy?" "OH! But it's not a karaoke bar?" "No..." "You're afraid of getting your ass kicked aren't you." "NO!" "Yes you are! Now you've heard me sing!" "SHUT IT! I AM NOT!" You couldn't help it, Martin had always been so easy to tease. You both knew each other too well - exactly how to push each others buttons. Then he started rummaging around in his jacket “OH MY GOD! TWO HANDS ON THE WHEEL!!!” “What is with you today!?” You held your hand on it instead, “I don’t like this wrong side of the road thing…” He sighed “I’ve been driving here years-!” “I don’t want to die in a car you’re driving!” He rolled his eyes and held a ticket out “You’ll need this. Unless you don’t wanna come?” You took it and studied it, happy he’d replaced your hand with his. “…Oh! Is this your band?” “Uh huh.” “So. We’re not going OUT with the guys then?” “… We could afterwards? I mean, okay, technically I’m driving you to soundcheck but...” You let out an exasperated sigh; and placed your hands to your forehead “Yes.” “Yes what?” “Yes! I’m coming!” He just grinned “Wow, I didn’t even have to wear you down!”

* Between soundcheck and the show you did in fact get to hang out with the band. Although for most of soundcheck you tried not to listen to them – you wanted the authentic gig experience. You’d heard Martin sing a bunch of times but you hadn’t seen his band before. They apparently knew everything about who you were and how long you’d known Martin though. With all the usual jokes about how the hell you had put up with him for so long… But it was the way that they looked at him, at each other and between the two of you as you and Martin interacted. How close he was sitting, the look in his eyes, the way he would touch you every chance he got – and the way that made you feel. You were sure you’d never felt about Martin like this, the one time crush that became a best friendship was so long ago you thought you were over it… But now he was doing this, and after what he had asked you…? His band was incredible. He was incredible. But you knew he would be, standing on the front row acting, and feeling, like the proudest best friend in the world. Nothing could beat this feeling. But there was no denying it now – the way you felt about him. Every bar of every song, every note he hit tonight was just making you fall further and further in love with him. And you were letting yourself; because you were pretty sure he felt the same way. It was whether or not it would be worth taking that jump, and risk losing what you had… “Thank you…! Oh my God! Thank you…” He laughed “Now… I wouldn’t normally do this…. But seen as someone out there in the audience tonight has come a pretty damn long way to see us. And I have it on good authority… She’s ALSO a damn great singer.” Your smile instantly dropped – Martin don’t you dare! – “So I’d like to bring her up, if that’s ok?!” The crowd erupted in cheers as he crossed the stage to where you were standing. “Are you KIDDING!?” He held his hand out “C’mon, sweetheart, we got this!” “…Martin-! You jackass! NO!” “What, you’re gonna just leave them disappointed!?” You couldn’t say no to that look on his face, and you sighed, giving in. He pulled you up to another round of applause and presented you to the audience; “This is Y/N! And I’ve known her a good long while… She’s amazing…! And all the way from Melbourne, Australia!” You just shook your head at him, but couldn’t help laughing, you offered the crowd a small wave as the stage crew set up for you. He took your hand and pulled you to him; “You better have a song in mind that I can sing!” “Yeah, I got one!” “…Well, what?!” His smile was nothing short of significant, and you could tell by the look in his eyes what he was thinking; “…You should know which one…” * You waited by the side of the stage for them to finish up in the green room – every so often audience members would pass you from the bar and dancefloor and tell you how great you and Martin sounded together. To which you just offered a nervous laugh and a blushy thank you. Eventually Martin came running, “OH MY GOD!!! Y/N! THAT WAS F**KING INCREDIBLE!!!” He grabbed you into a hug that lifted you from the floor “YOU WERE JUST---! OH MY GOD!” You wound your arms around him; he might have been drenched in sweat but you couldn’t have cared less – “ME!? Martin!!! NO! You killed it!!! You just – Oh my god!!” He put you down but kept his hands on your shoulders, “What?! I just what…?!” Did you tell him? Tell him how gorgeous he was? Did you tell him you loved him? All you could answer with was a smile that made your cheeks hurt, but that didn’t satisfy him. He got closer to you and he made your heart ache; his lips were inches from yours. And you wondered; what would he do if you closed the gap. “C’mon… Y/N…” His voice was soft and his eyes searched yours, how desperately you wanted to get lost in those now… “I just… what?”

“Martin!” One of his band called him, snapping his attention from you and affording you some breathing space. But you getting hot definitely wasn’t the heat of the club – and he was still holding you. “---C’mon man!!” They stopped a little way up from the two of you, making motions that blatantly said what is this!?And you figured that just friends didn’t cut it anymore.

Your eyes flicked from them, with their expectant looks, to Martin – who just seemed confused. “Guys-! I said-! She’s… She’s just…” His hands slid down your arms and he held you tighter; “…She’s my best friend… I-” was he blushing too!?  It looked like it. And all three of them were looking like they didn’t believe it. Not one bit.

“We just…” He turned to you with the expectation you’d help him out, but you were looking at him with a raised eyebrow, just as interested in where he was going to take this. Maybe then it’d finally cement how he felt? He turned back to them mouth open, but with no words…

You rolled your eyes, he couldn’t say what he wanted to say. Because he was just as afraid you weren’t feeling it as you were that he wasn’t feeling it. But because he couldn’t say it, you knew he did.

You nudged him gently to pull his attention back to you and took a breath out. “You know… You’re just…” you smiled gently, finishing your sentence “…Perfect…” “What-?” For a second you’d confused him, but only a second as you wound your arms around his waist and closed the gap – taking the initiative of a first kiss for yourself.

He broke it, again he opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it, before pulling you in again. His band all began nudging each other and you couldn’t help but smile against his kiss as they cheered him on. He pulled you closer to him and tangled his hands in your hair like he never wanted to let you go. Which was fine, because now you never wanted to let him go either.

Eventually you broke apart again, leaving you smiling “Just friends?” “…Darlin’…” Martin leant in for another; which you were all to glad to accept “I don’t think you and me were ever meant to be just friends.”

Oh... be still my beating heart... * Probably performed Home Alone Tonight... But the choice is really yours. What would you duet with Martin? GIF CREDITS: @benmendo as always... Annnd... @mendo-r

[pinkrae]

Can’t fake love || Chapter 4

The questions with no answers

--- Previous

Raven had been gone for a while. And he knew it. He’d been checking his watch every two minutes. Restrooms don’t take that long. Even if she spent a reasonable amount of time looking for one, chances were she would’ve been back by now. Unless something had happened.

Not being able to sit still anymore, Damian stood up from his seat and rushed to the door. Slightly blinded by the light in the lobby, he looked around in search of the restrooms. Which weren’t that hard to find because the sign was right there around the corner. Now he just needed to find Raven there.

Though, as usual for women’s restrooms, there had formed a line with a couple girls even standing outside the door. So he couldn’t just waltz in there without looking like a creep. Instead, he put on his charming smile.

“Excuse me, ladies.” He spoke in a polite voice, instantly grabbing their attention. “Could you help me out? I’m looking for a friend. Would you please check if there’s a Rachel in there?”

“Well, of course, sweetie.” One of the girls chirped and quickly peaked through the door. “Hello, is there a Rachel in there? Rachel?”

Not receiving an affirmative response, she looked back to the young man and shook her head. “No Rachels there.”

“Thank you.” With a small bow he took a step back, his features completely changing once his back was turned to the girls.

“We have a problem.” He pressed the button of his communicator in his ear, speaking to the rest of the team outside. On one hand, he didn’t want to cause an alarm had she really just gone somewhere to get some air. But on the other hand, all his instincts were screaming that something was wrong.

“What happened?” Kory asked with worry.

“Raven left the screening room almost 15 minutes ago and hasn’t returned.”

“You let her go alone?!” Beast Boy asked almost accusingly.

“I wasn’t gonna follow her to the restroom, you dimwit.” Damian spoke through gritted teeth. “Spread out. She couldn’t have gone too far.”

Since he was the one inside the building, it felt only logical to search for her there. Even if something told him that she wasn’t there. He argued with himself, asking why would she had left the building. Unless she was forced to. Maybe she found something. Maybe something found her. That thought made him angry. Mostly at himself.

The movie theater was big, there were so many places she could be at. And it worried him. Thankfully the rest of the team was on it already, searching outside. But it soothed his troubled mind only for that much.

“Guys,” Jaime’s voice was heard over the comms, “I found her--”

“Where?” Damian instantly stopped in his tracks.

“She’s outside--” Static.

“God damn it, Reyes, where?”

“Back of the theat-- … Static … --on the right.” Jaime didn’t even finish his sentence when Damian already turned around to find the nearest exit. “It’s ba--” Static.

“Beetle?” Beast Boy asked, concern obvious in his voice.

“Come in, Beetle.” But Kory’s request was once again met with only static.

Damn it.

Something was definitely wrong. Swinging the exit doors open with force, Damian ran to the location Blue Beetle had given.

There weren’t many places she could’ve gone, the area wasn’t that big. But the sound and light of Blue Beetle’s canon blasts were a good indicator as to where they were. Unlucky for the Titans, however, seeing this fuss behind the theater house, the journalists grew curious and some had shuffled their way there as well. This wasn’t going to end well if civilians were to get involved. And Damian wasn’t in his Robin suit either, so he didn’t like this situation one bit.

His mind was racing with thoughts. And he didn’t want to admit it, but most of them were about Raven. Was she save? Was she alright? Why weren’t either her or Blue Beetle’s comms working? What was happening?

And as soon as he ran around the corner, now joined by the rest of the team, his heart dropped. There she was. Lying on the ground unconscious while Blue was fighting some mysterious woman and her… henchmen?  They looked more like strange beasts with red glowing eyes, to be honest. But there was no time to contemplate on that.

“Damian,” Starfire spoke softly, now standing next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder, “get Raven to safety. There’s too many eyes here, we can’t risk exposure.”

It wasn’t often - or more like ever - that this happened, but he only partially listened to what the team leader was telling him. His mind had blocked everything else out and all he could see was her. What did the lady do to her? Was she hurt? He needed to--

“Get her out of here.” He suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. “Got it.” And without another second of hesitation, the boy rushed over to his friend.

Kory noticed the initial hesitation and it sparked concern within her. It was Damian who was always head first into action, get everyone to safety, get the objectives done. But this time he’d hesitated. It was unusual.

“Beast Boy,” she finally spoke again and nodded towards the group of journalists and other curious passersby, “crowd control. We don’t want any casualties.”

“On it!”

And with that Starfire and Wonder Girl joined the battle with the mystery woman and her beasts. It was unclear why she was here, who she was and what she wanted with Raven. Was she the killer they’d been looking for? So many unanswered questions still remained. But one thing was for certain - she needed to be stopped.

“You children are quite the nuisance,” the woman grumbled under her nose as she deflected one attack after the other using magic barriers.

But Damian didn’t have time to focus on the fight. He needed to get Raven out of there undetected both by the villain and the press, ideally. Good thing stealth was his strong suit, especially at night. So he lifted the girl in his arms and easily slipped through the buildings without anyone noticing. Hopefully, anyway. He’d worry about that later.

---

“How is she?” Donna asked softly, seeing Kory leave Raven’s room. The older female sighed and shook her head slightly.

“She said she wants to meditate.”

“That’s all she’s been doing lately.” Donna crossed her arms over her chest, her face expressing worry. “Are we sure she’s fine?”

“Damian checked her vitals as soon as he brought her to the Tower. She hasn’t sustained any significant physical injuries.” Kory explained as the two of them walked down the corridor. There was a moment of silence between the two of them before she sighed and continued. “But you’re right. We aren’t sure she’s fine.”

It had been a tough week for all of them. By what Raven told them, she remembered nothing of what happened to her after she left the theater. Jaime swore that when she’d found her, the woman, who Donna quickly recognized as Circe, the goddess of magic and an old enemy of the Amazons, had put her in some kind of trance using magic and was chanting something while her hand was pressed into Ravan’s chest. Though despite that, physically she was fine. And Damian made sure he checked it more than once.

But she’d been… distant. Even for her. She kept mostly in her room or outside the Tower meditating. Barely any food, any sleep or any interactions with anyone. If she did go to sleep, most nights she’d wake up from nightmares, covered in cold sweat. And they didn’t know how to help her. She wasn’t talking to them. Everyone was just on their toes, especially now that they knew they were dealing with a goddess.

“Any news on Circe?”

Donna shook her head. “She’s disappeared off the face of the Earth, it seems.” A sigh escaped her lips. “Starfire, I still believe we should alert the Justice League about this. Diana has fought her--”

“First we need to find her.” Kory interrupted the other. “If we have nothing on her, we have nothing to alert them for.”

“Do you not see what she’s done to Raven?” Raising her voice, she shot her arm backwards motioning to the empath’s room. “Is she not the one who killed all those innocent couples?”

“We have yet to find that all out, Donna.” The Tamaranean sighed and stopped in her tracks to look at Donna. Obviously, they were all worried. They wanted answers. They wanted justice. But… “We need information.”

“We need to stop her before it’s too late, that’s what we need.” Donna frowned and stormed off down another corridor. And Kory could only watch her leave as a sigh left her lips. A part of her knew that she was right. They might just need the help if this thing were to blow out of proportion. And by what Donna could tell them, Circe was no enemy to take light-heartedly. Still, there was a hint of hesitation inside of her. Almost like a pride thing. To prove that they could do it without the Justice League. On their own. They had gotten this far after all.

“You’re worried that the Justice League will deny their help because of me, aren’t you?” A sudden voice echoed from behind her. Gasping in surprise, Kory looked back to see Raven standing outside her room, probably having heard snippets of the conversation.

Opening her mouth to respond to the question, the older female hesitated to get any actual words out of her mouth. She didn’t know what to say, really. Raven was right and she knew that she knew it.

“You know that’s not--”

“Then don’t tell them about me.”

“What?” Kory was slightly taken aback.

“Tell them everything besides that. The killed couples, Damian and I’s PR stunts, how we found the damn witch, fought her and lost her.” Raven spoke with complete seriousness in her voice, as usual. The only thing unusual about it was probably the fact that it was the most that she had talked in days. “And we need to find her and stop her before more people die.”

“Are you saying that she is the killer?”

“All I’m saying”-- Raven sighed and covered her head with the hood of her cloak-- “is that we can’t fight this alone. She’s a goddess, for god’s sake.” Scowling, the girl turned and made her way to her usual spot outside the garden to meditate.

Didn’t she say she didn’t remember anything?

Now Kory was certain of at least one thing. She knew more than she let on.

--- Next chapter already available here

[ctl-yuejie]

Thoughts on Jamie and Namnhao

(includes spoilers until the first half of episode 7)

I started watching this series because l’ve been in love with Mild since Kiss The Series, but the way how Jamie and Namnhao are written really was a pleasant surprise.

Both are only side characters so they could’ve easily gone with the popular “jock falls for the quiet and shy boy” - trope. Instead their relationship is way more nuanced and I love every second of it. 

Jamie

While he is on the popular kids’ basketball team and good friends with college heart-throb Aud he doesn’t really fit into their hierarchy. We see him defend Aud against what seems to be the “alpha” of the team and at all parties he’s moving independently of everyone else. He’s still part of the gang, getting invited to events etc. but he doesn’t seem to give in to peer pressure. 

Jamie is not the loudest team member but he will do anything for his friends and even gets physical with the “alpha” guy (he’s the worst I didn’t care enough to remember his name) after he mocks Aud. (I should point out that Aud has lied to Jamie, so he is unaware of what a monster Aud really is)

At the same time he isn’t out to his friends: he evades Aud’s questions about who he’s texting and just denies that it’s a girl and he gets flustered when the “alpha” guy makes homophobic comments and insinuates that he might know about him dating a guy.

Jamie himself however thinks that he’s neither in or out the closet. 

And this is why I like the way he’s written so much. Because both Jamie and Namnhao feel so realistic to me in 2018. Jamie didn’t have a coming-out but he never lies about his sexuality either. I believe he feels quite smug telling Aud that he’s not texting a girl, because he is telling the truth. And I get him. I don’t want to speak for everyone here, but at least I believe that I would love to live in a world in which I didn’t need to constantly come-out. A world in which no one assumes you are straight, a world in which you can just talk about crushes of any gender or introduce your significant other to your friends and family without anyone making a fuss out of your sexuality. That doesn’t mean that I don’t take pride in my sexuality or the community but to me this would be the ideal world. I do see myself in Jamie. He seems to believe that no one should care about him dating Namnhao and thinks of his own sexuality as something so normal he doesn’t feel the need to address it publicly. (This is not in the show but in my head canon he’s not out to his parents either, but tells himself that he’ll just bring his boyfriend home someday and they will say nothing special about it)

Jamie himself tells Namnhao that he doesn’t mind people talking about him, that he wants everyone to know that they’re in a relationship and he teases Namnhao for hiding in the bathroom in order to video-call him.

And Jamie genuinely beliefs to be in this place of self-acceptance and have this progressive environment because he acts like he does.

When he first meets Namnhao at the party he immediately starts flirting with him in front of everybody and straight on hits on him during the night. He initiates all the hand-holding and pecking in public, which is a lot when you consider that PDA in general is not that much of a thing in Thailand (or so I’ve been told).

Of course we already see the tell-tale signs that everything is not as settled as Jamie thinks it is and we hope it to be. As soon as his sexuality becomes a topic in his inner circle, his team mates and people from school, he panics. Even when Namnhao says that he wants people at the party to know about their relationship, he panics for a second and then tries to find an excuse not to do that.

When he gets taunted in the locker room by his team mate he gets very defensive and calls Namnhao just a friend, the moment someone who recognizes him is around him he stops showing any affection for Namnhao. In episode 7 they are in the safety of a gay club and he’s about to kiss Namnhao but he runs of when some other guy in the bar recognizes him as “Jamie from the school’s basketball team”. 

This is what I love about his character. He doesn’t struggle with his homosexuality, but he has this underlying fear of being made an outsider and being left alone if people find out about it.

He lies to himself about how courageous he is and every time he gets confronted with his fears he finds an excuse: by only telling Aud that he’s not texting a girl and by making the fight with his team mate in the locker room about Aud getting disrespected even though it were the homophobic comments that ticked him off and we can see in his eyes how scared he really is of people finding out. He’s not scared of his homosexuality he’s scared of the consequences his sexuality has in a homophobic environment. And to me that’s very legit and also part of the contemporary struggles that LGBTQI+ youth face.

Jamie not only lies to himself, he lets Namnhao belief that he doesn’t give a shit and tries his best to act upon it. As long as he’s surrounded by strangers he will kiss Namnhao and hold his hand and tell him that Namnhao should be more courageous and open about his sexuality. 

Which leads to the bathroom scene in the gay bar when all comes tumbling down and he has to confront himself and Namnhao about the lies. He’s enraged not because he’s angry at the gossipy gays or Namnhao but because he’s so disappointed with himself. He had this whole constructed logic about how he was doing fine and and how he is confident but now he realizes how scared he really is and how he’s hurting Namnhao. He holds himself to such a high standard that it must feel like a punch in the gut to have these sobering thoughts.

Jamie is courageous but his romantic view of himself and the world has blinded him to his own fears. However, we can see him grow and come to terms with himself fast. Because after he leaves Namhao crying in the bathroom he comes running back to look for him.

Namnhao

Namnhao has the realistic approach to the world that Jamie needs. He is not out to his family but unlike Jamie really doesn’t seem to care if people know. Namnhao is very confident in his gayness. We don’t know anything about his social circle besides his twin brother but we know that he went to that gay bar before. 

In my head canon Namnhao keeps to himself at college but has some childhood friends he’s still close with who know that he’s gay. And out of curiosity he’s been to gay bars before and while he’s not one for a casual hook-up I do think that he feels happy and comforted by the thought that this is a place just for him where everyone is just like him and somewhere where he can feel safe.

Namnhao is quiet and soft spoken but he’s very strong. He just knows what fights to pick and which not, whereas Jamie is very emotional and doesn’t think before he acts. Namnhao will stand up against three of Jamie’s teammates to protect Lookkaew, who he isn’t even close with. All he knows is that she’s the girls everyone and his brother keep talking about and that everyone else just keeps taking videos on their phones instead of helping her to get out of the situation. Namnhao will never stand for injustice.

Namnhao also knows that his dad is a homophobe so he decides to not come out to his family because he has enough evidence to come to the conclusion that they won’t accept him. He doesn’t like PDA that much but he will unabashedly show his adoration for Jamie in private and tease him mercilessly. Unlike Jamie he’s very aware of where his boundaries are and what he dares to do but he constantly tries to challenge himself and be more open. This is one of the reasons why he likes Jamie so much, because Jamie will hold his hand and kiss him in public and tell him how he wants everyone to know about them.

The only miscalculation he makes is with his brother. Namnuea figures out that Jamie is much more than a friend and he makes it a point to tell Namnhao that he thinks that Namnhao shouldn’t be afraid to be who he is because he believes that their generation is that progressive. It is really sweet to see that Namnhao was wrong about his brother not accepting him and I think it gives him the courage to not assume that his surrounding is mostly homophobic and become more open.

He feels much more betrayed by Jamie turning out to not be as confident as he says he is. Namnhao who’s always calculating the risks decided to fully trust in Jamie and he gets disappointed. He’s angry that Jamie is so afraid of being outed that he won’t even show that they’re together in a gay bar. Because this is the kind of rejection he expects of his father but not Jamie.

Namnhao has to learn that Jamie doesn’t like him any less just because he’s not ready to be as open as himself yet. He can’t just put all his expectations he has of society on Jamie and expect him to not fold under the pressure. I hope he realizes that.

I had to include the last scene of ep 7 -  so more spoilers! - I won’t get too much into the elephant in the room because I’ve already ranted about this before and how strongly I disagree with that progression of the plot.

Obviously his whole situation changes drastically by the end of episode 7 but there’s also such a change in how he sees his own position. The homophobic reaction of his dad is nowhere near as terrifying as to what he had to survive so he just sits there at the table and basically tells his dad “I’m gay, deal with it”.

All in all I love their characterization because imo the writers managed to include a lot of emotional turmoil that young LGBTQI+ people experience nowadays.

You want your society to be more progressive, you don’t want to need safe spaces and there’s the tempting assurance by straight people around you that everything will be fine and the world is not that homophobic anymore. But as in the series you see the lack of empathy towards victims of sexual assault around you, you see people disrespecting basic privacy rules because they lech at the “otherness” of people around them. So despite the assurance, there’s still the big unknown as to how your coming-out will play out. You can be stealth about your sexuality and belief that in this time and age you don’t need to come out anymore. Which is legit and luckily a reality for some people.  However it requires just as much courage to come out nowadays and to feel confident in oneself and I think they did a great job encapsulating all of this in Jame and Namnhao.

[mindibindi]

Gene/Alex Scenes That Made Me Go Whoa… [6/6]

How can I write about this scene? How can it possibly be put into words? The feels. The atmosphere. The epic fucking chemistry. The undiluted and irredeemable angst of this missed opportunity…

(You can bet I’m gonna try).

First let me say that this whole episode makes me go whoa. Whoa #1 occurs when Gene glances about at the mourning crowd gathered in Luigi’s and mutters: “Where’s Bolly?”. Whoa #2 happens during that intimate scene in his office when they tentatively arrange their date. Whoa #3 comes as they each get ready for this long-awaited evening, knowing or at least suspecting – hoping, anticipating – how it might end. Whoa #4 comes when they both show up – Gene resplendent in his tuxedo, with his golden mane swept back, Alex Goddess-like from top to toe and wearing the fur coat he first picked her up in. The effort they have each gone to in preparing themselves – their bodies, faces, outward appearance and inner equanimity – wordlessly betrays how deeply invested they are in each other, in this moment and its rapidly approaching outcome.

I say rapidly because everything seems to happen all at once in this ep. There’s no gradual build-up. The third series of this show is so much about the differences and difficulties that divide these two radically different characters. It’s a brilliantly frustrating move on the writer’s part, one that’s clearly deliberate and clearly intended to build to this incredibly URST-y crescendo in Alex’s flat. The whoas keep coming with just the opening of a door between them, the expressions on their faces as that final physical barrier falls. It is Gene that seeks Alex out, after their date is interrupted. This, along with his attentive personal grooming, I find so touching. This is a man who reveals so little, who refuses to invest personally, brushing off any attempt to create personal, sincere connection. Revelling in his “un-reconstucted” nature, he can become dangerous if the boundaries round his heart are threatened or breached. Yet here he is, putting himself out there for a woman he utterly adores but never thought would bestow on him a first, let alone second, look. There’s uncertainty in his stance as he hovers on her threshold, unsure as to whether her earlier offer of intimacy remains valid. As so often happens in the show, Alex’s eyes offer the emotional barometer of not just where she is at but where they are headed. The incredible depth and range of emotion Keeley is able to express through her eyes gives this show its emotional language and drive. So when the palpable uncertainty in every cell of Gene’s poor, primed body is pointing out that they were just about to sleep together and enquiring whether that was still going to eventuate, the straightforward sympathy in Alex’s gaze answers unequivocally: “Yes. Yes, it is.”

Further whoas arrive with the scene on the couch. Because this is what Gene needed earlier in the ep when he couldn’t find the one person he wanted at his side during Viv’s wake. He looked about, seeking his comforter, his voice of reason, his emotional support. Everyone around him shuffled, knowing that no one else would do. No one but Alex’s can fulfill this role for Gene. When Ray tries to tell him that everything will be alright, the assurance has zero effect. Ray is someone who needs Gene to lead, to be strong, to be the legendary Manc Lion. In moments of doubt – though he’d never admit to them or their antidote – Gene needs someone equal, someone who can match his own strength and determination. He needs his Bolly. Of course this time, in this scene, he doesn’t get the comfort he requires. He doesn’t get her looking at him with only half guarded affection and telling him he’s a good, kind, decent man. He doesn’t get her clinking her glass with his and agreeing that they will stand tall against any and all threats of police corruption. He doesn’t get her whispering in his ear that it’s okay to be scared. Or conceding with identical world-weariness that everything is indeed shit. This time, when he swings his head her way and questions whether things really will be alright, Alex avoids answering. In fact, it’s possibly only because they both sense that things aren’t going to be okay, that they aren’t going to ever be the same again, that they’re allowing themselves what they have so long denied.

It’s Alex that shifts them along, moving them out of the professional and into the personal, out of their routine of comforting companionship and into something more sensual, more sexual. Of the two of them, she has always been the more forward. Most of the overtures Gene has made have been veiled in smutty innuendo or braggadocios indifference. Such (unconvincing) indifference also veils his response to her suggestion of a dance, to her insistent, extended hand offering him contact and closeness. Her insistence is probably made a little easier by the fact that she knows (as we all do) that he’s been itching to get his hands on her for years. How Philip Glenister plays this scene is so perfectly pitched because he doesn’t just simultaneously conceal and reveal the hidden desires of the man behind the self-created persona but also the doubt and insecurity of the boy whose past is about to be uncovered. I gotta say, the first time Alex pressed play and the Spandau Ballet song came on, I laughed a little and thought: “Come on, Alex, could you pick a song that made it anymore obvious that you wanna make out?”. I stopped laughing real fast though, because this scene demands that this song – now thought so laughable, so corny, so daggy – be taken seriously. It returns it to its original context and makes you listen to it anew. And the lyrics certainly seem to fit this couple and the moment they have come to. The unapologetic sentimentality of the song also suits Alex’s purpose. She needs to make her intentions clear here because Gene Hunt has proven tougher to get between the sheets than anyone would originally have thought. You can see in the way she looks over her shoulder at him on the couch that there remains a fear of rebuff. And a Gene Hunt rebuff is far rougher than that of any ordinary man. But the rewards of taking such a risk are also much greater than those of any ordinary man. So she lets the layers of protection fall away, hoping that he will do the same.

For me, there is a major whoa in just the way Gene moves in and takes her in a loose dance hold, one hand holding hers as the other unseen hand presumably moves around her waist. Fucking WHOA... What is that?! And how do men know how to do that?? Do they learn it at some point? Do they take boys aside when they’re of appropriate age and give them instruction in how to sexily manoeuvre women into a slow dance? Well…some men. Actually, I don’t know if it’s a male thing or just yet another spectacularly sexy Philip Glenister thing. It may well be the latter. With his bowed, golden head and his reticent, pouted lips and his aura of cool…jeez. It gets me. Every. Single. Time. And from here, it’s just whoa upon whoa upon whoa upon whoa. Gene makes a last ditch attempt at humour, at dissipating the heat and saving some face. Alex looks him in the eyes, clear and knowing, and doesn’t let him get away with it. If he wants his chance to be with her, he needs to really be with her. She wants the man beneath the façade, not the façade itself. I love that they leave them dancing for a while, moving closer, all obstacles and defences removed. It feels like a real slow dance. Wordless, slightly awkward and filled with intense longing. Lingering here feels earned too, after all the words these two have exchanged. After all the difficulties and resolutions, all the confusion and suspicion and separation of this series. Now, words become redundant and acts take over.

Alex’s head lolls and drops to Gene’s shoulder in an act of absolute acquiescence. To me, this is a deeply significant moment for her character. Since she arrived in his world, she has resisted it, resisted him. She has resisted being there, staying there. She has resisted engaging with him, siding with him, investing in him, relying on him. She’s resisted needing, wanting and loving Gene Hunt. And this here is her final capitulation. She is done. She is here. Finally and completely. No part of her longs to be anywhere else. She is content. She is at peace. Gene seems to register the significance of this act with a little whoa of his own. His eyes close and brows raise and for a moment he looks overwhelmed by sensation. Not just the sensation of her physical proximity but the weight and importance of her emotional surrender. There’s a moment in which they just sway, then Gene responds with a telling act of his own. A soft, protective, affectionate kiss on her hairline. I say protective because, as we all know, Alex has a thing for daddies (her own, Evan, Mac a little bit, and even Keats). Her trauma around her father’s early death and betrayal has turned into a bit of a kink. Gene is older than her, the one constant authority figure in her world. He’s the booming father of CID. He is also the angel-man who shielded her on that hill in the moment she lost both the idea and actuality of her own father, the man who was meant to protect but instead endangered her – a dynamic that was repeated with Evan. And – this is the fear Keats taps into – may be repeated with Gene.

But however chaste the forehead kiss may seem, it also seems to be a bit of a gateway kiss, a way of him working up to the real deal. Alex’s eyes flutter open but her head doesn’t lift straight away. She’s noticed the slight pressure of his lips, noticed that Gene is at last making a move. His lips move a little lower, resting against her forehead. And perhaps he plans to continue downwards, kissing her brow…then nose…then lips… But Alex lifts her head, nudging them along when Gene is struggling to muster the courage. There’s really no writing about the near kiss. Not just because it’s inexpressible in words but because if I think about it too long and hard I’m gonna cry and throw stuff. Suffice to say, it’s so amazing to see the tenderness between two characters who started out so different, so divided, so exasperated by each other. To think of the Alex Drake and Gene Hunt of s1, with their endless sniping and insults and tantrums, and see how they have become this tender, complex, uncertain but deeply invested couple. All the petty hurts of the past melt away as they begin to heal, to make love instead of war. Even during the hottest and most volatile of their battles, there has always been sexual tension. But this coming together is not rash and passionate and fierce, as it might have been back when they first met. It is heated, no doubt. It is intense and fraught. But there is certainty as well as uncertainty, love as well as lust, passion without force.

It’s worth mentioning here that Gene and Alex are both dressed in black and white, Alex having changed out of her white dress. She has often been dressed in white, her signature jacket from s1 & 2 being the most significant example. Gene’s signature coat is as black as the looks he shoots from under his furrowed brows. It’s not just 80s aesthetics that matter here though. The monochrome colour scheme taps into the life-and-death themes of the show. Black and white represent a series of polarities: light/dark, day/night, good/bad, angel/devil, dead/alive, heaven/hell, redemption/damnation. This man and woman are no longer polarised though, no longer opposites. They are each a mixture of light and dark, good and bad, alive and dead. They have learned from each other, drawn from each other, grown more like one another. Gene has developed his Alex aspect while Alex has developed her Gene genes. She is not just white and he is not just black. They are black and white fused together in a complementary pattern. Or at least, they are about to be fused. They are this…fucking…close.   

The only other thing I will say about the near-kiss is this: I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY TOOK AWAY THEIR KISS. Just in case anyone wasn’t sufficiently frustrated by this scene, I will let you know that the original script did actually have Gene and Alex kissing before being interrupted. I give you Exhibit A:

Now, objectively speaking, if I were one of the showrunners, I would probably have made the same call. It just makes for a more memorable love story if their first/last/only kiss is postponed until those last moments outside The Railway Arms. And I would probably be happy (happier) with this scenario if that kiss expressed even some of the intensity and longing present in this scene. It’s a different kiss, it expresses different emotions. It is tender, intimate, affectionate, sad. But a little underwhelming. It is, after all, the very last kiss either of them may ever have, certainly the last kiss they will share together in this universe. It is the last time Gene will see the woman he waited decades in purgatory to meet and fall for. And it is the very last act of Alex’s sadly truncated life. It might be worth making it count. Just a little. For this reason, I can’t help but find their final kiss wanting and longing instead for the aborted kiss here to have gone ahead uninterrupted. There is a bittersweet angst about it as it stands and leaving the audience wanting more is a smart strategy. So, yes, objectively, rationally, I see the reasons behind making this call. Emotionally, however, my lil shipper heart just can’t get over it. Which is, I assume, precisely what they want – people still crying over this pairing a decade later. Nicely played, A2A team, nicely played. In recompense for this deliberate cruelty, however, I vow I will loathe Keats for all eternity for his epically bad timing. I will sigh wretchedly every time Gene’s head dips in defeat, as what he wanted for so long and thought he was about to get is snatched abruptly away. And I will forever (internally) brandish a fist at the heavens at Alex’s whispered directive to wait in the bedroom for all that sentence promises but doesn’t deliver.

Again, I am in two minds about the ending of this ep. Part of me thinks that Alex emotionally surrendered to trusting and loving Gene in that moment at the end of their date when she told him he’d pulled. Not to mention the physical acquiescence to relying on him, needing him when her head fell to his shoulder in this scene here. These moments communicate such faith, such unswerving devotion. As a result, her last minute dash feels a little contrived. On the other hand, I understand that Alex is still working through the daddy/trust issues that she is in limbo to resolve, issues that deeply implicate her relationship with Gene as well. Because of these unresolved issues, Alex can’t fully love Gene Hunt until she truly knows him, until she solves the mystery of who he really is. She pursues the truth about her enigmatic angel/tormentor/boss/other half as the intrepid investigator she trained to be in her first life, ruthlessly unravelling his story and its connection to hers. This is the ultimate and shatteringly beautiful irony of Ashes to Ashes – for, while it is only in knowing Gene that she can really love him, knowing him completely also means leaving him, at long last putting her own issues to rest and entering The Railway Arms alone, parted forever from the love she died in order to find.

[thejojsistars]

So, I like that fluffy shit, and I reallyreallyreally wanna see how as many characters as possible (at least Jotaro, Dio, and Kakyoin, hopefully way more) would react to finding out their SO was pregnant ^u^

My heart, it’s to warm, it’s melting, ahhhhhh. We’re gonna do a lot. - M & P

Jotaro: (Ignoring part six, cause psh)

*Trying really hard not to look excited but screaming on the inside* “y-yare yare daze.”

Jotaro immediately sets out to build an aquatic-themed nursery and gets Kak to help him paint a dolphin mural on the wall.

He will maintain the aloof look that he is known for, though he’d become way more protective of his S/O. He wouldn’t want to be found out, and will try his best to hide it, outright denying any claims that he’s ‘concerned’.

Kakyoin:

Honestly, initially, he is very shocked by the news. Since he was a very solitary person before he met the crusaders, he’d be incredibly surprised that he was making a family. He wouldn’t be ‘alone’ anymore.

He’s the kind of dad that would head to the bookstore the same day, and get every single book that he could find on parenting. Every time he discovered something new, he’d bring it up to Jotaro, being absolutely fascinated by every detail.

*trying hard not to gush* “Jotaro. My kid, right now, is the size of a cherry. How cool is that?”

The moment he first sees the baby bump, he will wrap his s/o in a tight hug and not let go.

Dio:

Total “That kid is gonna be the best fucking kid cause it’s my kid” mentality

He might be totally weirded out by the concept of fatherhood, but his confidence pushes him to be the best dad cause it’s the best kid, obviously. (Bonus points if Jonathan has a kid at the same time and he gets to picture his kid winning against that dang joj kid.)

Just like Jotaro, he would get really protective, but he’s not afraid to show it. He would only let his most trusted disciples near his s/o and would have her pampered to her heart’s content.

(Just type mudad into the search bar it’s great)

Jonathan:

The instant he finds out his significant other is pregnant, (if they weren’t already married) he would drop to his knee and propose. He would feel an absolute need to be a gentleman, and make sure that his s/o is well provided for.

He’s also the type to baby proof the house in an effort to make sure that it is completely safe, going so far as to put foam protectors on any surface that could pose a risk.

When the day is done though, he’s glad to have an heir and even happier to know that he could be a father. (Having a wonderful wife doesn’t hurt either.)

He really does get carried away, picturing all the cool dad stuff he could do with his future son ー He really wants a boy ー or daughter. He wrote out a bunch of different lists to plan out activities, possible names, color schemes to paint the nursery, etc.

Caesar:

Would absolutely want to be there for his kid. He still feels like he missed out on having a dad, so he really just wants to be there.

He would probably be really needy with his s/o, making sure to take care of them. Lots of back rubs, kisses, anything and everything for his S/O

His family, in particular, is prideful of its lineage, so the news that he has an heir will make him elated with joy.

Joseph:

He’s absolutely dying to have a little girl, so the news that he’s going to be a father has him in tears of joy. He’s had the name picked out for a long time, just a pretty little flower he saw and liked the ring of.

Joseph will immediately go to his grandmother, Erina for advice on raising a kid. Of course, when he came into her room, she threw a book straight at his face, ridiculing him for not being married before having a child. (That is, because she, like everyone else, missed it while he was ‘dead’)

He thought about what he should do to prepare before he thought about what meant the most to him. He went up to Caesar and begged him to be the godfather of his child, Caesar ecstatic to be chosen.

Josuke:

He’s in deep denial for the first 5 minutes. He asks his s/o if they’re joking about 30 times.

“Holy crap I’m gonna be a dad?”

After the initial shock, his biggest concern is figuring out how to tell his buddies and his mom. (He was a little worried about telling his mom until he realized that she couldn’t exactly fault him for it.)

Okuyasu and Koichi have almost the same reaction to finding out he’s gonna be a dad, but for Oku, it’s closer to genuine confusion. “But how did that happen?”

At the end of the day though, he wants to hold his s/o in his arms. They’re all that matters to him.

Bonus:

Jolyne:

Jolyne: “But… just how? The fuck? But you can’t be pregnant?”

Anasui: “NOW YOU HAVE TO MARRY ME!” :D

[bichhebetalkin]

I’d like to talk about Nathan Drake and how I think he’s gay (and other things)

I will preface this with the fact that I have not yet played Lost legacy (and I’m not likely to play golden abyss...), and I also have not interacted much with interviews/fan theories/fan analyzations or anything like that. I’m kinda just typing my opinions out. I’ve just played the four games and thought about it a lot. 

I would love it for people to interact and respond-- I’d love some second opinions on anything I post. This post won’t get graphic, but it will mention inner turmoil and canon-typical violence. (and like, I’m talking about the marriage a bit too)

1823 words 

“I learned the past is not the past, a lump of time you can quarantine and forget about, but a reel of film in your brain that keeps rolling, spooling and unspooling itself regardless of whether or not you are watching it.”

--Nick White How to Survive a Summer

First of all

This is just my homely opinion, but in the first Uncharted game, Nathan Drake is some kind of a douche. Uncharted 2 is such an upgrade in several ways, and that includes an upgrade in Nathan’s character. I won’t rant too long, but I am certainly glad they fixed all that. Drake was an asshole who only cared for treasure, and he barely even flinched at Sully’s death and was ready to “beat sully’s ass” upon rescuing him. But whatevs, I won’t criticize too much since it was the first game and they might not have had the characters pinned down yet. A rough start to one of my favorite game series, and one that I will pretty much disregard in this post. If this seems harsh... I’m sorry. 

The Marriage between Elena and Nathan

We should all rename Uncharted Everyone is a dick to Nathan and Nathan is sometimes a dick to Elena

If you’re into mystic messenger and you read my only other post on this blog, you’ll know that I have... a couple thoughts on love and what it all means anyway. I want to start this off by saying I love both Nathan and Elena very much! They are truly great characters that I admire and adore. Despite this, their relationship just isn’t something I can believe in. A lot of their relationship progress is done in between games, which kinda makes the audience a little unable to gauge like, what the fuck is going on. 

somewhere between Game one and two, the pair is dating. By the time we get to Uncharted 2, though, it’s clearly and on-again-off-again kinda thing. We also meet Chloe, Nathan’s.... pal from the past (?). He risks a lot to save her, but I get the impression that the feelings he had for her were not as serious as the ones he has for Elena. I know it was supposed to be presented as a love triangle, but it just didn’t feel like it. Nathan and Chloe both kinda seemed like they weren’t at all interested in pursuing each other seriously. I honestly kind of appreciated this; Instead of the cliche fight between the women, Elena and Chloe seemed to get along in the end, despite some tension. 

Between the second game and the third game Elena and Nathan got married (1)(wait what?) and split up again. I don’t know if they were actually divorced or just separated, but the point is that they aren’t together by the time the third game begins. Finally, between the third game and the fourth game, They are living the domestic lifestyle. They both have legal jobs where they don’t have to kill anyone and they can make it home for dinner. Seems perfect.

Or at least, it would seem perfect if I thought it would last at all. Nathan hasn’t really had a significant relationship with any woman like. ever? (2). On-again-off-again means that they have to go off again at some point. If you pay some attention to dialogue it’s obvious that it’s Nate that breaks it off each time, or he at least he initiates it. When he lies to Elena in the fourth game, she admits that she almost didn’t come to save him. I have a shit ton of empathy and let me tell you that dynamic drove me buckwild I almost couldn't stand it. When Elena confronts Nathan in the hotel room and Nathan sent both Elena and sully away, I wanted to scream. (3) (what are you doing Nate these people love you)

It is also in this scene that we are reminded that Elena doesn’t know about Sam-- at all. That is... an insanely huge part of Nathan’s past, and he just never brought it up? Do they talk about anything at all? For many of Nathan’s formative years, he had to lie about his identity (and likely other things), so I get why Lying would be a tough-to-break habit for him, but Elena is his wife. Just how well do they know each other?

The on-again-off-again dynamic is not stable enough for a serious relationship, and certainly not a marriage (4). And like I said earlier, Nathan is the initiator in the break offs each time. What is he running from? A very supportive wife? I think it’s more than that.  From an outside viewpoint, Elena seems like... the perfect wife for Nate. She is supportive and she’s pretty much ready for action. But for some reason, Nate wants to leave her out of his adventures (5). I don’t think Nathan dislikes Elena; I think Nathan just isn’t romantically interested in her. Trying to force himself into a marriage because he knows that’s what charming guys such as himself are supposed to do, right? (6) Him forcing himself into a relationship he doesn’t want would make sense for him to feel a lot of disconnect. He spends a lot of time trying to get away, not because he truly dislikes Elena as a person, but because he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t feel as into her as he thinks he should (that sentence was a mouthful). 

I will say that, as a story, uncharted has been pretty mean to Elena. It is a story so thats not problematic or anything, but I do hope she can find what she needs. She needs someone to support her as much as she will support them, and she needs someone who will offer some stability. She likes Nathan, but he isn’t very suited to the life she wants/ 

Nathan Drake a Psychopath?

Yeah, I get it. Nathan kills hundreds or thousands of people and he doesn’t even feel bad about it, which might make him a psychopath which might explain his  behavior. I have some groundbreaking information to explain how he kills so many people without the guilt crushing him and that is that... this is a bideo game. bidya games be like “kill people” and you just do it. Nathan Drake could certainly have some mental health issues, but I don’t think the combat portion of the games should be considered when evaluating his health. His character as it is written has empathy, even going as far as attempting to save Marlowe in the third game. Combat is just expected in games. Although it might have been neato dorito if the game got into how Nate was coping with all that killing, I think we can just say “its bidya games” and move on. 

Dad? Papa? Father??

I already hate this section of the post, but If I was (shitty bitch) Freud I would point out the fact that Nathan uh Defo has some mom/dad issues, and suddenly the Beautiful, capable, caring, morally gray Victor Sullivan swoops in to be Nate’s New Dad ™ and it would be normal for Nathan to have some weird feelings for Sully. But whatever that’s just Freud's take on the matter (although I won’t deny that the Drake’s prolly got parent issues). moving on. 

Internal Turmoil

Nathan Drake throws himself in fatal danger and puts himself in incredibly difficult situations that have a tendency to just get worse. And he keeps doing this. This alone looks like a man just wracked with internal conflict. It would make sense for him to go on these physically taxing expeditions for treasure if he was insecure in his sexuality. Why would Nathan Drake be insecure though?  He’s charming, smart, strong, handsome, and funny. It’s not like he has to beg to get laid. He has no reason to feel this insecurity-- unless it was men he was interested in, not women. 

I don’t think It would be a stretch to suggest that Nathan “I never had any parents, really” Drake would have some troubles with learning how to navigate his own emotions. By the time he meets Dad Replacement 6000 (aka Sully), Nathan is already like, 15. That boy needed a parent years ago. 

When Uncharted introduces Chloe to us in the second game, Nathan really just doesn’t seem to be into her. The scene in the hotel-- he was just kinda going along with it. He “kinda goes along with” a lot of stuff. To me, he seems like someone insecure, not only in his sexuality but also his ability to make choices for himself. When a woman makes a move on him, he just kinda... goes with it. Elena comes back for him even though he breaks it off repeatedly. I’m sure to him this is the support he desperately needs. So logically he should reward her with uhhhhhh marriage? 

Harry Flynn

yeah he’s a bastard but don't even act like this scene didn’t have some gay subtext  “buy me a drink, sailor!” that's flirting babes. Nathan was so happy to see Flynn. 

Cassie Drake

whether Nathan is gay or not-- I still don’t believe in his marriage to Elena. I really love that Naughty Dog stuffed uncharted 4 with as many ladies as possible-- all the way down to Nathan’s sweet daughter. But seriously I hope Cassie’s upbringing is as cushy as it seems. Like I hope her parents are stable enough. 

But also like I have so many mixed feelings about her existence. Kids aren’t relationship bandaids (... or at least they shouldn’t be). 

I still have a lot I want to say about Nathan Drake (esp when thinking about Sam). The Uncharted Series has really done a lot to subvert some tropes in the adventure-type genre (imo anyway). And I’m not gonna scream and yell. I just think there's a lot of evidence to support Gay Nathan Drake. Of course, This could legitimately all be projecting. I love Nathan’s Character a ton!  

I wrote this all in one setting, so if it’s badly written or repetitive or.... whatever, please forgive me. I’d love some interaction! tell me what you’re thinking! 

1) are they married or engaged? I can’t remember....

2)that we know of blah blah

3) I might be being a bit too impassioned 

4) I’ve been rewatching Bojack so I am reminded of the bojack/pc dynamic (although its not a perfect parallel by any means), and in the show it’s clear to anyone that while bj and pc depend on each other, the game they are playing isn’t good for either of them (esp not for pc). Elena and Nathan can harbor affection for each other all they want-- but Elena can’t do this anymore. 

5) “wuh wuh he’s protecting her” im sorry but that’s bullshit-- she can hold her own, and he’s pretty quick to come to terms with her tagging along when she pops up each game. 

6)IT’S POSSIBLE that i’m just projecting and i just wish he was gay, but like, seriousliy? sersreoopsily? I have at least SOME support for my claims.