#whoops i skipped over an ask that i wanted to include in this post

[starscream-is-my-wife]

ANHHHHHHHJHHJHNJMNJNNNNNNMMM

I’m just realizing the baby is mimicking Starscream’s ‘behold’ pose in the first image.

You're right! Like father like child

(3 more asks under the cut)

Thank you!! Also youre also right, ngl I in my mind I was thinking that 'ehh the sparkling can probably escape through an air vent or something pretty easily' and then I totally forgot that a jet does not have the same interior as a car, whoops! It would be alot easier to sparkling proof a jet cockpit then a car even if the Sparkling dosnt really have a solid physical form, but at that time, Im just going to say Starscream doesn't want to be interested in the sparkling that he's going to make an orphan

Looks like Starscream is gonna have to carry the next sparkling so Megatron can get his own clone. For some reason the first child always resembles the Father

But before that!

Megatron can only handle so much of the sparkling, he is technically, a single parent, so he has Soundwave look after them when he needs some alone time.

Whenever he does, Soundwave can feel the glaring Starscream is doing to the back of his head and dispite not being told what happened he can piece it together, even without the telepathy. So he let's the sparkling slip out and they will naturally be drawn to Starscream, the seeker that hangs out in the throne room the most.

Starscream pushes the little sparkling away the first couple of attempts but caves in unnaturally fast. Starscream hates this as he grows more attached to the little brat, they even recognize his greatness and copies what he does!

Starscream goes through an entire arc of learning to not loathe the sparkling due to its parentage, because family is not determined by coding, but by the bond that it the members share with each other :)

... only to have it be voided by the elation that Starscream has when the sparkling forms to be exactly like him! Not only did Megatron get sparked up by him, he didn't even have to suffer through the sleepless nights of actually taking care of a newspark! And he got to bond with his sparkling early enough to influence that he's super cool in their eyes! He's going to rub it in Megatrons face so much, their sparkling... looks just like him!

[chanafehs]

My Veilguard review:

Note - I will be honest in saying this is very long and very negative. If you enjoy this game please don't let me be the one to ruin that for you and skip on this post. I will be discussing spoilers. This is just my opinion so please don't crucify me for it.

I think my thoughts about this game were shaky to begin with as I had been exposed to different spoilers and information before the launch. I wasn’t actually expecting this game to be amazing but as someone whose favorite Dragon Age game is Dragon Age 2, which is arguably the weakest in the series (until now), I still went in with the impression I would have a good time regardless. I did not have that at all, in fact towards the end of Act 2 and the beginning of Act 3 all I wanted was for the game to be over. 

The problems for me really started right in the beginning with the Inquisitor character choices and their characterization. No choices for your Warden, no choices for your Hawke, and only three choices for your Inquisitor out of the dozens you made in Inquisition. The romance option just felt like a very polite way of asking if you romanced Solas or not, especially after completing the game where your non-solas romance will only get one letter for you to read, outside of that, the Inquisitor will not even mention them. Disbanding the Inquisition meant basically nothing and vowing to stop Solas felt like it had little bearing on what my Inquisitor said when she showed up. 

The time frame to make Dragon Age 2 was just over a year and somehow included more choices from Origins than Veilguard did with over ten years of production. That is the information that's been banging around in my head throughout this entire game. In Dragon Age 2, we get the consequences of our decisions with Alistair’s fate and we get extra dialogue concerning Isabela/Zevran/Leliana/Anders/Nathaniel + some sidequests. Veilguard couldn’t even give us so much of a mention of our Inquisitor’s friendships and the consequences of those friendships outside of Solas. The Inquisitors themselves are locked into one personality type as well, and regardless if you choose to stop Solas or not, they are very amicable toward him. 

During the second cut scene you get with the Inquisitor in Dock Town, they will go on to ask you about your progress and then go on about Solas. Mind you, my Inquisitor is extremely unsympathetic to Solas and I chose the option to stop him no matter what, so why is it that every time I speak to her, she keeps trying to ask me if Solas is being genuine and that he was her friend? That doesn’t sound like someone who has vowed to stop him. They will also try to draw parallels between you, Rook, and Solas. Even at the end of the game, they will still try to appeal to you to see reason with him. That is essentially all the Inquisitor is there for. Incredibly frustrating. 

Throughout the game you will get missives from the Inquisitor detailing the devastation that is being brought to southern Thedas and every letter feels like more and more of an insult. To keep it short: Southern Thedas as we know it has been essentially wiped out. I think that deserves more than a footnote in some missive most players aren’t even going to see.

So the setting we spent all three games in, that we saved countless times, had our companions and protagonists die for, gets demolished in the background where we cannot see it. Skyhold had to be taken back from demons and whoops, that's not actually something you can do anything about. Nothing the Warden, Hawke, or the Inquisitor ever did mattered at all and it renders everything from the previous games absolutely irrelevant. 

With that aside, the companions are also another issue for me. I found myself having trouble getting attached to any of them and every single time I recruited one I had the internal question “Why are you even here?” None of their companion quests really tie into the story at large, save maybe Harding and Davrin, and they are incredibly boring save for a few cool moments.

The main appeal of Dragon Age for me is the companions, it’s why Dragon Age 2 is my favorite of the series. Despite the overused environments and the rushed production I still had a great time with it because of the companions. I was actually eager to do the companion quests and learn more about them and how they all fit into the main narrative. Even characters I didn’t like, I still understood why they were important to the story. Like I can’t stand Anders but I know why he is there, he has a purpose.

Every companion is painfully amicable towards you even if you decide to be “stern” towards them. I found myself not caring what dialogue option I chose about them because it made absolutely no difference. There is nice, funny nice, and gentle parenting. That is really all you have to work with in terms of the dialogue wheel. It was more difficult to get disapproval than approval and I can probably count on my fingers every time in this game I actually got companion disapproval. There is only one companion in my playthrough that became hardened, Lucanis, and it had virtually no impact on his character other than the fact he leaves for a couple of saves and comes back to kissing your ass. 

Something I actually really liked about BG3 and the previous Dragon Age games was working for your companion approval - this meant actually learning about your companion and what made them tick. If you don't understand them well enough you get disapproval, when you actually listen to their ideas and thoughts you get approval - there is an active effort to get these things. In Veilguard this does not exist and you are essentially promised approval no matter what, meaning there is no encouragement to know who these people are if they're just going to support you regardless.

I have to agree with the Skillup review they made about this game saying that every dialogue option feels like it was made with HR in the room and I one hundred percent agree. This is not how real people talk to each other. This is how teachers talk to toddlers when they want to explain the virtues of sharing toys with their classmates.

It felt honestly insulting at times to be treated like I don’t understand the concept of bigotry, I still have no idea what they were trying to go for with this, like were they trying to appeal to a market of high school boys who hadn’t discovered what empathy was yet? There is zero trust in the player and every dialogue and decision you make in these moments feels handhold-y and preachy. Like Pixar levels of life lessons you learn.

In the moments where I had to settle arguments over coffee and companions not respecting each other's interests, I could not honestly believe this is the same universe with Loghain Mac Tir, Meredith Stannard, fuck even Corypheus. Humor has always existed in Dragon Age and I love the comedic banter between the characters but it was always humor that served as an escape from the oppressive and dark situation around you, here the dark and oppressive situations feel like an escape from the unrelenting friendliness and tone deafness of your companions. 

The companion I probably had the most issue with was Taash and the way they were handled. I’m not going to get too deep into the Bharv scene because even thinking about it makes me cringe but If someone messed up my pronouns and then immediately dropped to do pushups I am most definitely killing us both. Isabela’s explanation is extremely preachy and she proceeds to do the exact thing she says she hates about people messing up pronouns. Anyways. Moving on. 

Taash I think is a good example of how to not write a multiethnic character. I don’t expect a white person like Trick Weekes to understand the first thing that comes with being multiethnic or having strict parents that intersects with that identity but it is most definitely not whatever the hell this is. 

The only thing I can offer here is that as a multiethnic person (my father is Palestinian and my mother is mainly Irish and Seminole) is that there has never been a point in my life where I felt like I had to choose what culture I am let alone give that choice to someone else in my life I just met.

That’s not what being multiethnic is. I do not have to choose between anything - I am whole and I don't need to cut myself into halves and quarters to be accepted.

It also feels subconsciously like you are supposed to choose Rivain as the Qunari are depicted as bigoted and oppressive as they always have been in this game. Knowing all of this really tainted my experiences with them as a character and I understand a lot of other non-binary individuals love the representation they brought on that level but personally, I’m just tired of “queer representation” always coming with racist undertones. Again, this game feels like it always had white queer people in mind, not lgbt poc. 

These kinds of comments are really only made worse knowing what the Qunari take inspiration from - primarily Black and Brown SWANA Muslims. Why should Trick Weekes have any authority over a questline like that is beyond me. 

Also, this sucked. Especially because they said it to Neve too. I don’t really want my non-binary representation sprinkled with Misogyny as well, especially since we can’t really call Taash out on this comment unless you’re playing a woman (as far as I know).

Aside from Taash, I thought the writing around Harding was strange. Don’t me wrong, I love Harding, but I do not remember her being this friendly and people-pleasing in the Inquisition. If you play as a Dalish elf the first thing she says is she’s surprised that you would care about anyone else - there is absolutely no inclination of this kind of perspective in Veilguard. Additionally, despite knowing everything Solas has done and the consequences that had on her ancestors, she still tries to push you to reason with him?

All of her quests about learning about the Titans, experiencing and embracing their anger, and you still want to appeal to Solas? That was another thing I found so weird about this game, throughout the entire story you are being told again and again that Solas cannot be trusted, he is to blame for everything, and will stab you in the back and yet it seems like every companion tries to push back on you if you agree with this viewpoint? 

Also, something I didn't know at this point of the game but I do now is that Solas had killed Varric and she does know this so why is she acting like this knowing Solas had killed her friend who she spent years with?

Genuinely this whole game felt like: Devs: Solas is a villain

Rook: okay understood

Devs: actually nvm you don't understand him if you think he's a villain

The only companion quests I was actually genuinely interested in were Emmrich and his thoughts around death and becoming a lich. Lucanis' quests had the best boss fights for sure. Outside of that, it felt like “Go here with Bellara” or “Go here with Taash” and it got so grating I couldn’t wait for these quests to be over so I could progress with the main story. It felt like an annoying back-and-forth game to finish a main quest just to finish all the companion quests and then go back to the main quest. Like a list of chores to get through before you can have any fun. 

The inclusion of characters like Morrigan and Isabela in this universe was extremely hollow and they do not feel like the Morrigan and Isabela we know at all. With Morrigan there is a bit of an explanation to this with the essence of Mythal however she reiterates that it is still herself and it is only the memories of Mythal that remain inside of her.

In my canon playthroughs of Dragon Age, I romanced both Morrigan and Isabela, so I was curious to see how the developers would address their pasts with our Warden and Hawke. Unfortunately, the answer is that they don’t address it at all. Morrigan hardly mentions her past, leaving us to wonder if Kieran even exists. The game implies that the relationship between Morrigan and the Warden is insignificant; a codex entry oddly suggests, in a very slut-shamey way, that Morrigan had more lovers than there are trees in the forest. Isabela doesn't reference Hawke either, as she fondly remembers Kirkwall for found family and friendship. It seems that if you romanced Isabela or Morrigan, congratulations—your canon doesn’t exist.

I will echo the statement others have made about all the cameos feeling like mascots because that is really what they are. There is no substance to any of them, Isabela only feels like she is there to be a supportive voice for Taash, Morrigan will only really talk about Solas and Mythal-Dorian is the only one who actually gets a substantial quest related to him. I thought he was fine minus the "illegal slavery" bit because what is illegal slavery Dorian. Next up we will discuss legal murder.

Another thing that genuinely broke the immersion for me in this game is how awful the armor is. It is a Dragon Age game so I wasn't expecting Haute Couture but the design is all over the place and nothing looks right. Not to mention the extremely weird orientalist undertones that follow the Lords of Fortune everywhere. The outfit Isabela is wearing is even worse in person and I tried to give this game the benefit of the doubt by thinking we would be getting some underwater mission with her and that would be the explanation behind her bikini outfit - this did not happen.

The belly dancer-esque outfits with the coin-bedazzled turbans were pretty egregious and made me want to limit my time in Rivain as much as possible. For a game released in 2024, I am disappointed we are still dealing with the same Orientalist fantasy tropes. Even the Qunari are more naked in this game than I had ever seen previously. At least DA2 and DAI gave them pants. But hey the Antaam are all blighted and evil so who cares right.

Speaking of the Antaam, a lot of the antagonist motivations for this game genuinely did not make sense to me. The Antaam are suddenly giving up their fear of magic to pair up with...the Venatori? To fight for the elven gods? It honestly felt like they had no idea who to make fight for the Evanuris so they just pulled two of the baddies from the Inquisition and went "We can just use them and call it done". When you press for information on why this is the answer is always a mustache-twirling dialogue about power. Nothing much deeper from that than any of the villains besides Solas. All of the villains, especially Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, are extremely one-dimensional and have no motivations other than being evil and striving for power. At least Corypheus had cool lines.

I'm not going to get too deep into lore changes since I know a lot of things happened in the comics, books, and TV show (all of which I did not read or watch) but I honestly do think it's a bad idea to have a "soft reboot" while needing to read several books to understand everything. That's not being welcoming to new players that's homework. If you wanted a soft reboot probably don't start off with half your plot and characters coming from various comics and novels people need to catch up on.

The portrayal of the Dalish in this game is inconsistent. When we inform them that their gods are evil and planning to overthrow the world, they respond, "Okay, heard you." How can they accept this explanation so readily? In previous interactions, Solas shared that the Dalish did not listen to him and even threatened him when he revealed this truth. Yet, when we present the same information, they believe us almost immediately. Is there no pushback or skepticism? The Dalish accept everything about the evil elven gods meanwhile Andraste’s followers remain completely unaffected by these revelations.

I think what frustrated me even more was watching our elven companions express grief and regret over the actions of the elven gods like they had something to do with it, painting the Dalish as adjacent to oppressors when they themselves are oppressed in every way. The only thing that remains consistent is the sad boy Solas act about it.

At the end of the game, two of my companions - Harding and Emmrich- were killed. Emmrich's death was unfortunately overshadowed by a zoom-in on a rock and I had no idea he had died until I got the popup. Still, all I can think about is just going "Rock moment" when he died. I don't really have anything negative to say about Harding's death other than the way she went out was fitting for her narrative. Bellara got blighted and there were no consequences for this and she walked away from it - forgive me but I am still under the DAO impression that if you get blighted that's game over but all the rules about the Blight have been changed in this.

I decided to trick Solas, and honestly, I don’t have anything negative to say about it, except that Solas should have noticed me holding the fake dagger since it was clearly in his line of sight. I liked the idea of outsmarting the god of trickery. While it wasn’t extremely satisfying, but I’m okay with how it turned out.

Even as the credits began rolling I still have trouble believing rook's role in any of this. Just the persistent nagging idea that they really just have no place in this story at all. In the beginning I wanted to see how Rook is looped into all of this and how they become central to the fight against Solas but just like with most of the companions, I have no idea why they are here. This should've been the Inquisitor's story to finish.

I'm not going to pretend that everything about this game was irredeemable and terrible. There were genuinely parts I enjoyed and had a good time with. The romance ending scene with Neve was fantastic, even though it took a long time to get there. Davrin was an unexpected aspect of the game that I actually liked, as I never cared much for Grey Wardens before, but he changed my perspective. Harding's mention of the Inquisition was also very sweet. Although I wasn't particularly invested in Emmrich, I loved the conclusion to his quest when he became a lich lord.

While I'm not the biggest Solas fan, I actually really enjoyed the cutscenes between him and Rook because one of my aims with this game was the ability to be mean to Solas and kick him while he was down. They definitely delivered there even though everyone else kept disagreeing with me.

The worlds are beautiful and the CC is definitely the best we've gotten in any Dragon Age game, I spent probably a solid hour in there. The hairstyles are great and the four unibrow choices? Bioware you shouldn't have <3.

Overall I definitely didn't have the best time with this game and towards the end of act 2 I was incredibly bored and the combat became repetitive and stagnant enough that I turned down the difficulty to get through it faster. I can't see myself replaying this any time soon and I am unsure what my stance on Dragon Age is now, do I Ignore this game ever existed or do I carve out everything I liked and pretend this is the Dragon Age I love? I have no idea, I am disappointed at how this game leaves us off and I really wanted to sit here and say It's good but I can't.

I think this game will reach out to and resonate with a different group of Dragon Age fans than me, I just wish I could enjoy it as much as I see other people doing. I was originally going to give this game a 3/10 but knowing you can pet the cats I will give it a very generous 3.5/10.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

If it’s alright, I have a question about Vil and Epel’s relationship. I understand that the accent changing plot line is just a cultural politeness thing that didn’t carry over outside of Japan, but the other parts of changing Epel’s behavior don’t quite make sense.

Why exactly is Epel being forced to call macarons his favorite food? And act very soft-spoken? I can’t see how these fit in with the politeness aspect of the table manners, no abrasive language, etc. It just doesn’t give a very good impression, especially in combination with the unfortunate implication of giving Epel a Southern accent for the “change your accent” plot point.

Before I get to responding to the questions posed by this ask, allow me to explain for those who may not be familiar with this controversy! This is so we can all go into reading this post from the same starting point.

I've made titles to denote the explanation of background knowledge and to denote responding to the questions actually asked to me! If you're already familiar with the Vil-Epel-accent debacle then feel free to skip the first section!

Disclaimer: I’m speaking on these concepts as I personally understand them. However, I am not a native Japanese speaker so I’d advise that you consult additional resources with a better understanding of the language and culture. Two resources I enjoy are Yuurei and MysteryShopTLs, who have both also addressed Epel’s accent and how it was localized.

The Accent, EN vs JP

It’s well-known that Epel is a character with a heavy accent who has been explicitly told by Vil, his dorm leader, to alter the way he speaks. In EN, Epel speaks with what appears to be a southern (as in, “from the southern United States”) accent. Therefore, when Vil tells him to stop speaking in the accent, it feels as though Vil is shaming him for his southern roots and culture. This has also led to fans (especially of the EN-only sphere) thinking that Vil believes Epel’s accent is “unrefined” and “makes him sound uncouth/uneducated”, which is why Vil tells Epel to cover it up. I have even received asks conveying as much in the past (here is one example).

In the original JP, Epel speaks in a way that does not closely resemble any real-world Japanese dialect but rather a blend of them. If you ask a native Japanese speaker, they would likely tell you that it is difficult to understand what Epel is saying and that it sounds as though he is speaking rudely or too casually. People could genuinely take offense to the accent because it can be mistaken as something else entirely. This is obviously very different than the real-world accent (which many people can still understand and wouldn’t perceive as rude) that Epel was localized to have. The decision to give him a southern accent, then, does not completely carry over its original JP connotations into EN.

What remains the same in both EN and JP is the reason Vil provides for telling Epel to adjust the way he communicates. As he says in EN, “Speak properly" to which Epel immediately assumes the command comes from a place of elitism/classism and Vil thinking Epel's manner of speaking is beneath him. Vil responds with, "Stop misinterpreting my instructions. I have nothing against your home or its dialect. What I object to is your attitude. Being proud of your home is all well and good, but there is a time and a place for that. The way you address your superiors is entirely unacceptable." (Keep in mind that before this, Epel was the one instigating a fight with Vil and subsequently got his ass whooped for disrespecting an upperclassman. As the victor, he declares that Epel must do as he says--that's the "culture" of NRC. The weak obey the strong, so if Epel wants to do whatever he wants, then Vil challenges him to beat Epel in a fight. Until then, the loser must obey the winner. Epel agrees to these conditions.) This may be a little hard for western English speakers to wrap their heads around, but MANY Asian countries, Japan included, run on a hierarchical system which is embedded even into their languages. Japanese, for example, has honorifics to denote the relationship between the speaker and the listener, as well as variations on the same word depending on the context ("boku", "ore", "watashi", "atashi", etc. are all valid ways to refer to oneself, "onii-san", "onii-sama", "aniki", "kyodai", etc. are all ways to refer to a brother, whether blood-related or not). In some cases, it's considered rude to call others by their first name unless you know them well, and even then it's not common to see a first name without an honorific. This is not as strictly adhered to in English, which is perhaps where a cultural disconnect occurs. What Vil is referring to in his instructions to Epel is what is known in the world of linguistics as "code switching", or changing how one communicates to suit the situation. Part of code switching is changing one's "register", or the level of formality you use. So for example, I could use a colloquial/casual register when I speak with my friends, but I may shift to a more polite and formal register when I speak with my professors, a boss, or an older relative. Vil, then, is critiquing Epel for not speaking politely to his seniors (something which is expected in Japanese culture, but not expected among those in similar grade levels in western cultures).

In the Harveston Sledathon event, we get to venture to Epel's hometown and hear how the locals speak. Indeed, we get more instances of people who speak in the same way Epel does. It's the Harveston dialect, which is so distinctive that it basically sounds like a whole different language. (There are also languages like this in real life; consider Mandarin and Cantonese; technically they are both "Chinese" but Mandarin and Cantonese speakers would not be able to comprehend one another even if they use the same written language). However, it's notable that Marja (Epel's grandmother) and the mayor of Harveston are able to code switch flawlessly into a more standardized tongue. They explain that this is a skill they have developed because it helps in communicating with tourists/visitors to the village and for whenever they travel to the nearby city to sell their wares. This reinforces Vil's point that there is a "time and place" for certain ways of speaking, which Epel needs to consider.

Macarons and Soft-Spokeness

Accent thing aside, some English-speaking fans take issue with Vil's stern treatment of Epel, particularly in instances in which Vil seems to be exerting significant control over his underclassman's behaviors. (Japanese-speaking fans largely do not hold the same sentiment.) Examples of this include Vil forcing Epel to state that his favorite food is macarons, as well as making Epel present as soft-spoken even when he's just among his peers. I will now be addressing both of these points. TO BE CLEAR, I am NOT trying to defend Vil but rather I'm just going to speculate about why the circumstances are the way that they are and/or why perceptions of his attitude may differ.

Starting with macarons! It is stated in Epel's official profile and by Epel himself in his Birthday Boy vignettes that his favorite food is yakiniku (Japanese grilled meat). However, macarons are also listed as his favorite food, and this is notable because he's the only character with two foods listed instead of just one. In the aforementioned Birthday Boy vignettes, Epel is quick to qualify his love of meats with, "Well, I do have one thing I like even more. It's, ah, macarons." When asked what he likes about them, he says, "They're... cute. And sweet! And they come in lots of different flavors." His voice here sounds hesitant, so it's not clear whether he's being entirely honest or not. He even admits in a whisper that, "[Macarons] are not very filling, but still." Epel again complains about macarons being good but not very filling when he has some in the City of Flowers/Fleur City. To this, Azul asks, "Why do you look so unimpressed, Epel? I thought macarons were your favorite food. [...] But was my intel mistaken? Would you prefer something with a stronger flavor profile?" Epel insists he is fine, and Azul responds with, "Excellent, then my intel bears out." This creates some confusion over whether Epel actually likes macarons or not. I doubt that the information Azul has on others is inaccurate. Plus, Epel states of his own free will to the player (who is interviewing him) that he also likes macarons. This leads me to believe that while Epel doesn't outright hate macarons, he does like them alright (but still prefers grilled meat more). The only thing he seems to have an issue with is how unsubstantial macarons are as a food item.

Now... why does Vil make him state that macarons are his favorite food instead of grilled meat? It's sort of touched on in Epel's Ceremonial Robes vignettes. In them, Vil chides Epel for his poor table manners and asks him to state his favorite food. Epel responds with grilled meat/barbeque, which earns him a smack from his dorm leader. (Vil actually smacks Epel multiple times in these vignettes as punishment, which ended up being another source of ire in the English-speaking part of the fandom; such a thing is more common in Asia and its media, so it's not seen as too outrageous in Japan.) "Do my ears deceive me?" Vil says. "I could've sworn I heard a word unfit to be spoken in this noble dorm. I will ask you again. As a student of Pomefiore–a dorm founded upon the tenacity of the Fairest Queen–what is your favorite food?" From this dialogue, it can be surmised that Vil's reasoning for drilling the macarons in as Epel's favorite food is because it is something that is more befitting of the regal "image" of the Fairest Queen and the dorm made in her honor. Vil seems to regard grilled meat as an inelegant food which does not suit the Fairest Queen nor Pomefiore.

The second thing the asker brought up is Epel's soft-spokeness. I guess I'm a little confused by this??? Soft-spokeness is a part of being polite; it ties back to volume control (ie "indoor voice" being softer than "outdoor voice"). I also don't recall a specific instance of Vil chastising Epel for NOT being soft-spoken at all times. He allows Epel to be loud sometimes and raises his voice himself. I feel like volume is not something that Vil harps on as much as other things like cursing or speaking politely to the correct authority figures (unless, of course, volume is important to the level of politeness required for the current conversation). I could be wrong on this though, so please let me know if you know of any specific instances of Vil being mad about Epel speaking loudly that I may have missed! What I do find odd is how... consistently (?) Epel tries to keep polite even when Vil is not around to monitor him. When Vil and Epel first met, Vil makes it clear that there is a "time and place" for Epel's accent, and it's not when addressing seniors. So... by the logic, shouldn't Vil be okay with Epel acting more relaxed or rowdy around first years or more casual settings in general? Why does Epel need to maintain the facade of being polite even when not in the presence of his superiors? Why does Epel seem to even act fearful about word of his misbehavior/rudeness getting back to his dorm leader and even make others swear they won't divulge the incidents to Vil?

One theory I'll propose is the entirety of book 5. Vil was insistent then on having Epel in the NRC Tribe. He wanted to weaponize Epel's cuteness, which he believed could compete with his long-time rival, Neige. This probably fed into Vil's demands for Epel to appear and act dainty and innocent, traits which Neige effortlessly possesses. Vil literally even refers to Epel as his "Poison Apple" that will help him defeat Neige. After book 5, Vil seems to have eased up on his rigidity. However, I will caution that this explanation may or may not align well with vignettes and/or event stories, which do not always work in a cohesive timeline with the main story.

Perhaps a more all-encompassing explanation is... this is probably because Vil is just very strict about how his dorm members present themselves at all times, since they are expansions of Pomefiore and of himself as the leader. Both the macarons and Epel's attitude are reflections of the dorm he (a celebrity who is very aware of the public eyes on him + his reputation) is affiliated with, and Vil won't have them poorly represented. He is the dorm leader, so he has the "right" to rule and impose his ideals as he sees fit. It's a similar situation to Riddle forcing the Heartslabyul students to follow silly, nonsensical rules (because they're tradition) or risk a scolding or a beheading. And again, Epel is following along because (as established in book 5), he has agreed to submit to Vil’s orders until he beats Vil in combat.

At the end of the day, I don't think Epel being forced to call macarons his favorite food is a huge deal. Is anything that big lost in claiming you like something that isn't your actual favorite food? It's not like Vil is forcing Epel to claim he likes eating something that would actually harm him (like, if Epel had an almond allergy or something).

What's more dubious is how VIl governs Epel's attitude and temperament at seemingly all times (to the point of eliciting some apprehension from Epel). Given the most generous reading, maybe it's Vil's way of teaching Epel maturity and how to keep his voice down since Epel had zero of it and acted loudly brazen when he first enrolled. It doesn't help Epel if he's quiet and well-mannered in very limited social situations; it has to be "generalized" or expand to other scenarios for Vil's lessons to truly be instilled in him. (Like... what would happen if Vil DIDN'T hold Epel in check? His classmates would not be able to understand Epel's speech, and he might get into trouble by picking fights with others.) This is a life skill that Epel lacks, unlike his grandma and the Harveston mayor, and Vil's teaching it to him via "tough love" (though whether you approve of his methods or not is up to interpretation). Recall that Vil also teaches Epel to embrace femininity as its own strength and to disregard outdated gender norms--this could be considered another "lesson". I doubt that anything Vil imposes is done maliciously, but rather comes from a place of wanting others to be better and to shine their brightest, even if that path is difficult or painful. Epel, as the rebel in this circumstance, of course does not enjoy being told what to do and misbehaves in small ways. There’s a limit on how much he can misbehave though, as it would hurt his pride to be reminded of his failure to one-up Vil. He's like a kid that doesn't want to be caught cussing or acting out by his parent. It can be seen as immaturity and an unwillingness to change or to grow up, but it can also be seen as someone who wants to freely be able to express themselves or to be their "truest" self. Epel is rowdy and headstrong, and it's difficult for him to repress these parts of himself. Given the least generous reading, Vil is oppressing and stifling Epel in many ways that extend beyond what his dorm leader position should reasonably allow him to do. In fact, a popular fan translation for book 5 is "The Beautiful Oppressor", as Vil is frequently shown limiting the liberties of his NRC Tribe members during their training arc, not just Epel's.

Which is the truth here? Why do those in the English side of the fandom decry Vil's actions and side with Epel whereas the Japanese side see little issue with this?

I wager that this predominantly comes down to, again, cultural differences. Many English-speaking fans are based in the west (particularly the USA and Canada, where the EN servers first launched), places which emphasize individuality and self-expression. Of course they would be more likely to take Epel's side, as he's the one trying to be himself and stand out in his own way. Meanwhile collectivism--an ideology which stresses conformity with a group--dominates in the east. They are more likely to see no problems with Vil's actions because, to them, he is acting in the ways he is to "guide" Epel and show him how to best "fit in" with Pomefiore and at NRC. I believe the whole "being soft-spoken" thing also ties back to cultural differences; speaking loudly is something else that can be considered rude in Japan, so it's entirely possible that Vil encouraging Epel to be soft-spoken is another element of politeness that did not translate well to English (as the western world tends to be much louder and more animated in their conversations).

What it boils down to is that the way Vil and Epel's relationship was written did not work well for a western audience, whose values and perspective is VERY different from the original audience TWST had. It appeals far more to a Japanese fanbase than a western one, and has resulted in many misunderstandings or anger about Vil's character because of this.

I'm not sure if I managed to adequately explain everything, but I hope that this at least helps you to see from a different perspective!!

[msybookclub]

seijoh 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐬 week 2

this week, we’re recommending our favourite seijoh fics again! (since your friendly fic rec guide ended up selecting all Oikawa fics last week whoops!)

as always let us know if you don’t want to be tagged or to have your fic here!

(credit to the lovely lin from @violetsoju​ for her recommendations, truly inspired choices!)

title: go fish

author: @wackatoshi​

summary: (time-skip) is there anything more ironic than attending a wedding with the girl you’ve been pining for all your life? hanamaki thinks this is the height of embarrassment, but he’d do anything for you.

review: the premise of this fic is so simple - a man pining after the woman he’s loved his whole life, who finally gains the courage to confess to her with the help of a sassy flower girl and the game of fish. but it’s beautiful in its very simplicity, there’s intimacy in every word and interaction. i’ll just leave you with my favourite paragraph - This is uncharted territory in your friendship, but somehow, it comes easily to you, much like everything else does with Makki. Whether it be talking, laughing, crying, or now, kissing, it always feels safe with him. His arms on your waist, your hands in his hair, lips locked and hearts in time — you can’t help but think about what a perfect, perfect combination this is.

title: the sun rises

author: @taiyaaki

summary: Post Breakup - What does the first meeting look like?

review: it’s amazing how despite the fact that Matsukawa (aka Mattsun) doesn’t get that much focus in the series, the author manages to make you feel as if you’re watching two fully fleshed out characters love and long and ache for each other over the breadth of their years with just under 4k words. i could gush on and on about each imagery and poetic phase (the opening image of ripping a bandaid off! the celestial imagery of the sun never forgetting the moon!) but the line that truly stayed with me is this - love lasts when its true.

title: a star is dying, but the universe won’t let it

author: @meraki-kintsukuroi

summary: you're burning out like a dying star but these hands that have loved you even long before will never let you go, even if it means getting burnt too

review: it’s so rare to find a Kindaichi fic, let alone one so well written, with lush celestial imagery (sorry, your friendly fic rec guide is a bit of a sucker for stars) and so much human empathy. and better yet, the author, in just a few words, manages to make you consider Kindaichi’s relationship with his teammates - Oikawa, the grand king he’s served for three years, Kageyama, the tyrant he hated but later realises is only human, his teammates, his universe.

title: ship in a bottle

author: @meijoh

summary: author did not provide one

review: it’s just a simple scene - you and Mattsukawa on a bike, riding down a steep hill, but the imagery and the rhythm of every word just immerses you in their world - one of love and silent understandings and golden sunshine and home. somehow it reminds me of the innocence and tenderness of the first flushes of young love.

title: What could you be

author: blessings (on ao3)

summary: For a guy who tries to avoid making friends as much as humanly possible, Kyoutani Kentarou has managed to pick up a really weird, really annoying, really loud one.

review: look - usually i only include tumblr fics, but this Kyoutani - Tanaka friendship fic just had to be included, no questions asked. the humour in this? top notch. the build up of their friendship (with cameos from saeko)? completely realistic and heartwarming. every scene feels lived - when yahaba teases kyoutani for making friends with the karasuno ace (after the 3rd years graduate), when kyoutani’s dog betrays him by giving tanaka snuggles. ack i love it far far far too much.

[seijorhi]

Meet the Parents

Not including the original anon (who was asking about Ushijima & Tendou) no less than four of you asked for a meet the parents scenario for each of the soulmate AU’s so...

TW implied dub/non-con

(Atsumu & Osamu’s will be posted tomorrow whoops 👉👈)

Outrunning Fate - Ushijima & Tendou

It begins with a phone call. Ushijima’s in your kitchen, fixing up the leftovers from the night before and Tendou has you trapped on the couch, long, gangly arms wrapped tight around your waist as he presses sloppy, open mouth kisses to your neck. He doesn’t stop when the phone rings - though you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow or the huff of disapproval that escapes him. He doesn’t like it when your attention wanders.

“Oh, hi dad.” You try to shove Tendou off of you without much success, glaring at him when he laughs and presses closer. “Um, now’s not a good time, can I call you back later?”

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when Ushijima broaches the subject the next day. “We should meet your parents.”

You almost choke on your own spit. 

“Why?”

It’s Tendou who answers, his grin just a little too wide. “We gotta meet the in-laws at some point!”

A shiver ripples down your spine at the suggestion. They absolutely do not.

“Um, we’re actually not all that close.” A lie. “There’s not really much point. They live a few hours away.” Twenty minutes, actually. “And besides, t-they don’t approve of me having...” you trail off, glancing pointedly at the twins marks on your skin. 

Olive eyes bore into yours for a long, tense moment before they soften just a fraction, and he shrugs. “Okay.”

He tilts your face up into a kiss, and you allow yourself to breathe the tiniest sigh of relief. 

You don’t want them anywhere near your family, especially not when you’re planning to run. 

But it’s hard. Your parents are already worried about you pulling away. You haven’t told them about an of this, you don’t want them involved, but they’re nothing if not persistent. So you promise that you’ll come visit - carefully choosing a day that you know both Tendou and Ushijima will be busy. Skipping a few classes is the least of your troubles. 

You should have learned by now that nothing is that easy where your soulmates are concerned. 

“Babe?” 

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting for them both to leave when Tendou emerges from the bathroom - your bathroom - shirt unbuttoned, holding out two ties in his hands. 

“Which one do you think’ll go better with my suit - the blue or the red one? I wanna make a good first impression with your dad.” 

And just like that, your hopes of being able to sneak away comes crumbling down around you. 

There’s no use fighting it, not now. 

It’s Ushijima who notices that your hands are shaking as he helps you out of the car he’s parked out front of your parents’ house. He pauses, eyebrows knitting together, his broad thumb brushing against the back of your hand in slow, reassuring strokes. “Tendou will behave, there is no need to worry.”

There’s a subtle quirking of his lips, and you think he might be trying to make a joke, but you can’t focus on that when you feel like you’re going to be sick. The man in question appears at your other side, hooking an arm around your shoulder and dragging you in for a kiss.

“Best behaviour, pinky promise!” he winks, as if he hadn’t spent the better part of the ride over musing about fucking you in you childhood bedroom. 

You would honestly rather shove a needles into your eyes than go though with this, but the front door of your old house is already opening, your mother rushing down the driveway. What else can you do but smile and play along as she throws her arms around you in a tight hug?

They are merciless in front of your parents, or at least Tendou is. From introducing himself to your mother as one of your ‘soon to be husbands’ to whispering all of his perverted little fantasies into your ear whenever their backs are turned. You physically have to clamp down on his wrist when he tries to slide his hand up your skirt while you sit down at the table for lunch. Even then, it takes a low growl from your other soulmate before he truly relents. 

And while your parents gush over Ushijima (a professional volleyball player!) he holds your hand in his, squeezing just a little too tight whenever your smile slips. Neither of them have mentioned the fact that you’d lied to them, and judging from the slow burning heat in Ushijima’s eyes when he glances your way, you can only assume that that punishment is still to come.

You hate having them there. It’s your home, something good and wholesome and safe that their very presence corrupts. You hate listening to your mother coo over how good the three of you look together, the respectful nod your father gives when the conversation inevitably shifts to sports. You hate listening to them tell the story of how you met, warping it to make it sound cute - consensual - but the nail in the coffin is your parents chuckling when Ushijima brings up how stubborn you were initially. 

You quickly excuse yourself to the bathroom, muffling your sobs in one of the big fluffy towels. 

You hate them, you think as you stare into the mirror, wiping the silvery tear tracks from your face, trying to erase all signs of your impromptu breakdown. 

You hate them for making you play along, but you can’t hide in the bathroom forever.

“Oh, sweetheart,” your mother murmurs, cupping your face in her hands as she catches you on your way out. You must be a better actor than you thought, because of instead of the panicked frown you expect as she studies your face, she just smiles warmly at you. “I’m so happy for you. All that worrying, trying to squash it all down and pretend that they didn’t exist... and you finally found them. Honey, you’ve done well for yourself. I can see how much they adore you!”

She glances over to your soulmates chatting with your father, and you follow her gaze, heart sinking. “Yeah,” you manage to reply, offering her a weak smile in return. 

If only she knew.

Like Nobody Else - Oikawa & Iwaizumi

What was the point in setting boundaries you knew would be broken?

After staying behind to watch them practice that first day, you swore that you wouldn’t go back. It didn’t matter that the volleyball club all knew, it didn’t matter that that meant that soon enough the whole school would know - you wouldn’t go back there with them. They could drag you off to go sit with them and their friends at lunch times, ambush you on your way to classes, but you wouldn’t let them fuck you in the locker rooms before hand, and you weren’t going to sit in those stands and pretend that you cared while they ran through endless training drills.

Yet when you shouldered your bag after the final bell the very next day, you only manage to make it a few steps down the hallway before strong hands are yanking it away from you.

“Wrong way, cutie,” Oikawa beams innocently, while Iwaizumi merely lifts a brow when you open your mouth to object. He’s holding your bag, and you have a sneaking suspicion that he won’t give it back until you agree to follow them. 

“Oh my god, he’s carrying her bag for her, they’re literally so sweet!” you hear one girl gush to her friend as the three of you breeze past, and Oikawa reaches across to intertwine his larger hand with yours. 

“Aren’t we just?” he asks you with a charming grin. 

Iwaizumi scoffs, “You’re not carrying jack shit, asshole.”

“Rude, Iwa!”

You don’t say a word. What’s the point?

It doesn’t come as a surprise when they make you stay back with them, long after the rest of the team has gone left. They’re not as rough this time, but your legs still feel like jelly by the time they’re both finished with you. Oikawa still wipes away your tears while Iwa helps you to your feet, pressing a gentle kiss against the crown of your head that makes everything worse.

They walk you home, both taking turns to kiss you goodbye on your doorstep, and you can only thank your lucky stars that your parents are both out so you don’t have to try and explain.

It becomes a routine during the week - on the days that they train you stay back with them and they dutifully escort you home, and on Monday’s when they don’t have practice, you’re either dragged with Oikawa to Lil tykes or forced to join Iwaizumi with whatever he planned on doing. Usually studying, though sometimes he’ll drag Makki and Mattsun (and on occasion, Mad Dog) out to train with him regardless. 

Your weeks belong to them, you’ve resigned yourself to that - but your weekends are yours. 

Or so you’d let yourself believe.

You ignore the text messages that flood your phone one Saturday morning, only for a persistent knocking at your front door to shatter the calm of your weekend only a few hours later. Your better instincts would tell you to ignore it, because you know (or have a good enough idea at least) exactly who’s behind it, but the fear that trickles down your spine urges you forward anyway. They tell you they love you, but you know better than to believe that that means they won’t ever hurt you - that they haven’t already hurt you.

“Hey, cutie. Mind if we come in?”

You don’t know why Oikawa bothers asking, because you barely have time to open your mouth to answer before he’s ducking under your outstretched arm and waltzing inside, Iwaizumi right on his heels.

“You weren’t answering your phone, so we figured we’d come and check up on our pretty girl, right Iwa? We were worried.” 

The latter grunts in acknowledgement, studying at you with narrowed eyes - an expression that makes your stomach flip uncomfortably.

“O-oh, my um, my parents aren’t home...”

The words slip out before you can stop them, and your heart skips a beat as your soulmates share a look, the grin on Oikawa’s face widening. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, we promise.”

But somehow ending up squished between them on the couch in your living room, watching some movie you’re barely paying attention to wasn’t quite what you expected. Sure, Oikawa’s mouthing greedily at your neck, and you haven’t missed the way Iwa’s hand has been slowly creeping up your shirt for the past ten minutes, but considering what you know they’re capable of - you’ll take it.

Yet you can’t force yourself to relax, not with the heat of their bodies pressed so close. You shift in your seat, your hand accidentally grazing against something hard and as you freeze in panic, Iwa stiffens, his breath catching with an audible hiss.

But it’s Oikawa, eyes hooded and wanting, who tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, “Baaaaby-”

You don’t get to hear the rest of that sentence, because at that moment your front door swings open once more, only this time it’s your parents.

There’s a quiet ‘fuck’ growled in your ear as the three of you scramble to right yourselves, your heart beating a mile a minute, feeling very much like a kid caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

Never mind that you didn’t want this - never asked for it.

It’s your mother, mid-way through a conversation with your dad, who steps into the living room first, stilling at the sight that awaits her. Your eyes are wide, hands are clenched into fists in your lap as she stares at you for a painfully long moment, “Sweetheart,” she begins slowly, her voice sounding a little strained, “why are there two strange boys in the house?”

And for one single, shining second, you wonder whether it would be worth the trouble you’d land yourself in if you told her that they’d come over with the intention of hooking up with you - it wasn’t exactly a lie. Oh, your parents would be fuming, but at least you’d be safe in the knowledge that they’d never, ever let either of your soulmates anywhere near the house again. Maybe they might even insist on you changing schools altogether! But before you can actually entertain the thought, Iwa’s reaching across to subtly grab your hand, squeezing it tightly with a warning look. Don’t you dare.

Oikawa, as always, chooses that moment to step in and take control. “Ah, please forgive the rude intrusion, Mrs L/N. I’m Oikawa Tooru, and this is Iwaizumi Hajime, I’m assuming your lovely daughter has mentioned us?”

If you weren’t distinctly aware you’d pay dearly for it later, you might have snorted at that. Your mother frowns, folding her arms across her chest and quirking an eyebrow, but it’s your father, glaring outright at the two interlopers, who replies. “She has not.”

A shiver ripples down your spine at the chilling look Oikawa shoots you out of the corner of his eye. “Huh, I guess our little cutie’s still a bit shy. Well, never mind that. We’re her soulmates, and...”

It doesn’t even matter what the rest of his sentence is. Your parents hear the words ‘soulmates’, look at the two handsome, charming young men either side of you and all but melt. Suddenly it’s warm smiles and welcoming hugs. Your parents are delighted, and all it’s all too easy for both Iwa and Oikawa to slip into the roles they’re expected to play.

They spend almost an hour chatting with the two, and it hurts more than you care to admit when you look up into your mother’s beaming face and she gives you a wink. This is all she’s ever wanted for you - two handsome, strong boys to take care of her little girl. You can’t break her heart with the truth, you can only sit there quietly as they gush over you, pretend that it doesn’t make your skin crawl when Oikawa looks at you with those soft, adoring eyes and tells your dad that from the moment you spoke to him, they both knew they loved you.

‘Why won’t you two just leave me the hell alone?!’

Eventually your parents leave the three of you alone, letting you go back to your movie, and only then can you let that facade slip.

“Well that went better than expected,” Iwaizumi states, dragging you back down to settle on the couch with him, Oikawa plopping down on your other side and pulling you close.

He hums in agreement, a glint of something mischievous dancing in his eyes as he traces a single finger up your side. “Of course it went well. What’s not to love?”

[carewyncromwell]

[...Whoops. It seems someone’s fallen asleep on top of the Askbox. But who the heck is still asleep at quarter-to-twelve in the morning? 

Answer: a lanky, dark-haired, long-nosed young man, whose suit is in disarray and whose eyes blink blearily as he starts to wake up. The faint sunlight peeping in through his window makes him shudder.]

Eli: “Ugh...”

[Yup. Definitely a hangover. He flops over, not really wanting to move at all, but just wanting to get away from the light. It hurts to think. What time is it? Once he sees the clock, he gives another moan.]

Shit. That late already? ...Well, I guess last night was pretty fun. Guess this is proper justice, for going on such a toot. 

[The blurry memory of an austere boy with dark hair and a gaunt face dressed in a Ravenclaw tie @sirfluffig​ gave him a very tired, reproachful look, and Eli smiles a bit despite himself.]

Hey, the fun was good while it lasted. 

[With a sigh, he lurches out of bed.]

Eli: “(mumbling) ...I need some fucking pear juice...”

[And a shower. A nice cold shower. It wouldn’t metabolize the alcohol any faster, but at least it might help him wake up.

Wasn’t there something his mundane was telling him she wanted him to do...? 

Eli blinks tiredly, trying to focus, when his eyes find the Askbox he’d fallen asleep on.]

Oh right -- that thing.

[Eli puts on his best, bright smile and removes his askew tie as he tries to ignore the throbbing in his head.]

Eli: “Hey there, sheiks and shebas! The name’s Eli Fawcett.”

Fuck, my head hurts. 

Eli: “(without skipping a beat) Don’t know if you’d know my work -- I’ve been in a small handful of moving pictures. ...Or maybe not so small. My hands might just be bigger than the average man.”

[Eli waggles his eyebrows playfully. He’s clearly just having a laugh.]

Eli: “But enough about my assets. My ‘mundane,’ as she calls herself, is a bit tied up with work -- (dryly) a dreadful thing, certainly glad I don’t have that problem...so she thought it would be good to ‘give me some vocal warm-ups,’ as it were, until she can work on her most recent art project more this upcoming Sunday and Monday. And far be it from me to not take advantage of some proper rehearsal time. So that’s why Tory love has opened her ‘Askbox’ for me to use. She says I fit into what she calls the ‘Fantastic Beasts’ timeline, which encompasses the 20′s, 30′s, and 40′s...and she encourages both you, her followers, and your characters from that timeline to interact. Apparently she thinks a famous Hollywood actor needs some friends.”

[Cheeky grin. He holds his hands up with the fingers spread in mock defensiveness.]

Eli: “But hey, I’m not opposed! So go ahead and send in some questions, if you’d like, and I’ll answer them over a nice breakfast of carbs. After I get out of my shower, that is. Reckon I shouldn’t be lolling about in these glad rags all day, however glitzy they might’ve been last night....”

((OOC: Yes! Work is crazy, so I figured it’d be a good time to do a voice test for my newest MC! If your kid is in the Fantastic Beasts timeline, or if you just want to say hi, send in an ask, if you’d like! You can learn more about Eli with this intro post and this playlist, if you’d like -- tl;dr, this is a sunny, anti-nihilistic British FtM wizard who was the resident academically slacking class clown at Hogwarts, before he ran off to the United States and eventually became his universe’s equivalent of Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin. His interests include acting, stuntwork, comedy, singing, music (especially the piano), movies, traveling, Muggle technology, wizard dueling, and stage combat, as well as -- oddly enough -- philosophy, sociology, and psychology. So yeah, feel free to say “hi!”)) 

[reyeslonestar]

Question what are some things you wanna see in season 3 of lone star? Character development, plots, anything

I want to see Tonya Kong write every episode. that's all. thanks for asking!

-

sadfkja I joke, I do have other ideas, but that is definitely high on my wish list! i'm gonna go through by character and talk about what I'd like to see for them, so this is gonna get quite long whoops...

the main thing that I'd like to see overall, though, would be evidence of an overarching season plan or arc - it doesnt necessarily have to be a plot that stretches through all the episodes or anything major, but I'd love them to have plotted out the season before they start. from watching this season and then reading interviews after the finale, they dont appear to plan many things from the start and end up throwing in ideas as they go along. if they plan it from the start they can foresee how theyre going to affect character development more, and they can have a bit more balance in the types of episodes they have, so that the season is less insane and more naturally ebb-and-flow with a few light episodes to break up the drama.

okay, onto the characters! just going to do this in billing order for simplicity's sake. customary reminder that these are just my own opinions and thoughts, and this is more of a wish list than a realistic expectation.

if you want to search for a specific character, ctrl F for one of these terms including the dash at the start:

-Owen

-Tommy

-TK

-Grace

-Judd

-Marjan

-Paul

-Carlos

-Mateo

-Nancy

press “j” to skip the whole post.

-Owen

okay so I'd love to see them actually develop his character. Owen has been given a lot of backstory with lots to play with development-wise, but to me it feels like the show never goes anywhere with it. he's got a lot going on what with 9/11, feeling responsible for the fates of his fellow firefighters, the codependence of his relationships etc. I'd like to see him go to therapy and see him grow some self awareness and seek to manage himself better, rather than all his screentime devoted to him being a hero when other characters have the situation handled. it would really show him as a good leader if he drew on the skills that his team has and refer to them for advice/ideas. realistically he is the main character, so I'd like them to develop him like one.

also, I kind of love the chief role for him? I think it would suit him really well. but it would drag him away from the 126 and split up the dynamics too much so it would make for bad tv and I wouldnt actually want to see that. good for his character though.

-Tommy

I love Tommy :) just wanted to say that.

so obviously Tommy's got a lot of grief to handle next season, and I don't want them to shy away from that. I want it acknowledged and processed. (I'd also like a little bit of seeing the twins' grief too, because they're also suffering a massive loss). maybe something with Judd helping Tommy learn to manage her grief with his own experience of losing the original 126, encourage her to go to therapy, plus Tommy, Grace and Judd all feeling the loss of Charles together. after all, Grace and Judd were his friends and they will be grieving too.

I'd also kind of like to see Tommy have something outside being a working mother. obviously we're going to need to deal with that a lot especially now that Charles is gone, but I feel like she's been assigned the Character TraitTM of being the working mum and I'd like to see them give her a hobby or something. idk. and give her a night off with Grace or something. give her something just for her.

-TK

okay so I think theres a fair likelihood that theyre going to return to looking at TK's addiction next season which im not averse to. I think him struggling with his sobriety would be worthwhile to see for his character and to show that its not a straightforward path, plus it makes sense with all the insane stuff they've thrown at them in s2. however, Id like to see it in the context of his friends and family rallying around to help and support him and show him that he's got people to rely on, and that he's allowed to rely on them, plus the support of his AA meetings and therapy. I also need them to lay the groundwork for him struggling, so putting in signs of him deteriorating so the situation makes sense. this storyline doesn't need surprises to be interesting or good, and frankly it shouldn't have any.

as for him and Carlos, I definitely want to see them househunting! I'd like to see the combination of househunting/Carlos with Tommy's kids/Grace and Judd having their baby have an impact on their perspectives regarding their future and spark that conversation (like, looking at houses with more rooms and thinking about kids, future, marriage etc). I think that maybe one of them, probably TK, or maybe both of them those boys have way too many parent issues having anxieties about being a dad could be an interesting way to add tension without being too drastic, and then that can be resolved in a way that reassures them of their relationship and reaffirms their strength as a couple. the talk about the future would also lay the groundwork towards a proposal at the end of s3.

-Grace

grace :) my love :)

I could watch episode after episode of Grace kicking ass and saving people over the phone. I'd love to see an episode set there? like, some kind of story within the call centre with all the handlers having to resolve that between them, but also tie in the first responders, so we see the fire team, the paramedics and Carlos all working but we only see the bits that Grace and the other call handlers hear, if that makes sense? also an actual Grace/Carlos team up where they are coming in from the different angles with different amounts of evidence and figuring out the best way to solve something together. plus I'd like to see her maybe get some recognition for being awesome at her job, maybe another handler coming to her for advice on how to solve something.

of course we've got the baby Ryder on the way, and I want that to go comfortably and smoothly for her. she deserves that. lots of wholesome excitement for her and Judd from the whole extended firefam, baby shower, gifts, the full works. pamper grace please.

-Judd

judd4captain2k22. please.

yeah I know its not gonna happen, but I loved judd stepping in as captain this season and I'd love to see that continued with him taking more leadership, and Owen deferring to him for advice/council in a work environment rather than personal life. maybe set up a long term idea about judd being a captain someday.

he's gonna be a dad :') so what are his anxieties about that? why were they putting it off before? was it related to his PTSD? he's got lots of people relying on him now, how does that make him feel? what if his kid loses him? id like to see him still using therapy as a tool to help himself deal with everything. lots of meaty questions to dig into there :D

-Marjan

I'd quite like to see more of her balancing her daredevil nature with the impact of that and realising how much danger she puts herself in sometimes. or on the flip side, maybe the team is dealing with a really dangerous situation and they utilise her fearlessness to save people. her relationship with social media could also come back? but bring in the development they gave her this season, and her Firefox presence is more serious, less flippant?

I think that theres now a space for her to explore her sexuality/romantic experience now that she hasn't got her engagement with Salim as a kind of failsafe. maybe she wants to put herself out there and date, but thats really daunting as shes never really had to do that before? personally I think this could tie in really well with a self discovery/exploration regarding her sexual orientation, but I doubt they’d go there with her, so thats just my headcanon.

-Paul

I want them to draw on Paul’s observational skills and perceptiveness more, especially on calls and in emergencies. I remember someone (sorry I cant remember who) pointed out that he would have been a great character to centre the arsonist plot around in terms of noticing the clues etc, so id love a storyline that revolves around him dealing with an emergency like that. I also really want a Carlos and Paul friendship so maybe them collaborating on a call to solve something, that’d be cool.

can we give Paul a girlfriend please. if im not complely insane, there was a reference to someone in like,, 2x04?? someone who put mayo in his sandwich? idk I havent checked (edit: it was aioli in his banh mi! thank you @meneatyoghurt), but if there is someone can we show him having a fun and loving relationship please. I dont need there to be any drama. just them having fun on a date or something.

-Carlos

so I know that some people are keen to see him in his police role more but I really don't need much of that. on calls with the 126 I'd like to see him be the officer in charge more, but I don't need police-exclusive storylines. I've talked about it here if you want to know why.

the only area that I'd like to see would be in the direction of reform/addressing the flaws of the system, and I think they can do that on a personal level for him, because he and Mitchell need a chat. if they'd gone with her decision in 2x08, he, Mitchell and the bank robber would all be dead, and I think thats gotta have some impact. also the fact that he was suspended for trying to preserve life. theres a lot they could work with there and maybe have him thinking about how he can do good and how he can effectively protect and serve. not to mention, the opportunity that would provide in terms of addressing his relationship with his dad and how he maybe sought approval by pursuing a police career?

also I’d like him to learn that he doesnt need to accept blame/preemptively put blame on himself and that he doesnt need to apologise when someone else hurt him. kind of want to send him to therapy. kind of want to send all the characters to therapy. but yeah, him learning that he can accept apologies and understand that he doesnt have to make people feel better for hurting him. hes allowed to be hurt and feel pained about it. and that can tie into his relationships with Mitchell, with TK and with his parents.

I think I mentioned most of the tarlos stuff in TK’s section, but I wouldn't mind at least one instance for them where we see it all from his perspective instead of TK’s.

finally ive mentioned above how i’d like a team up with Paul on a scene and both of them figuring it out together. I'd also like them having a friendship outside work, just the two of them, bonding over books and being relatively sane people compared to the rest of their friends.

-Mateo

Mateo is so sweet. I loved 2x14 and the recognition he got, more of that please! also theres still so much I want to know - one of the more consistent things they set up for him in s2 was his faith, so I want to know more about that. what's his relationship with religion and God? he's pretty isolated from his family so how does he feel about that? is his religion something that helps him feel connected to them? maybe the church helped him find a community when he first came to the states, before he got settled with the 126, and he finds reassurance in faith that God is looking after his family while he cant be there? I think maybe there's scope for a conversation between Marjan and Mateo about that, about that distance and caring for their families through faith and prayer.

also, if he's still with the horrible firehouse, I'd like to see the other firefighters being won round by his resilience and stepping up to look out for him, and someone backing him up against the captain. Mateo is used as the butt of the joke most of the time, but I'd also like to see a bit more acknowledgement of things like losing his house and the bullying hes going to get more of from this firehouse.

-Nancy

I think that her speech to Tommy in 2x14 was really telling, and I'd love to see them expand on that a bit more. first on the loss and fear of losing her friends and coworkers, but then also on her hopes and aspirations - she said she wants to be a paramedic captain so lets see her working to take her exams and qualifications, and showing initiative on scenes etc.

id like to see more of her being integrated into the 126 group. she and marjan turned up to the hangout together, so lets develop that relationship more. I would love it to be romantic but I'd also love to see that as a friendship. but also her forming bonds with others in the group as well as more of her and TK being a chaos duo. I love that they stole the ambulance, more of that insanity please!

-

I think thats it? if youre still reading, youre insane and I appreciate you a lot! honestly im open to all sorts of things in s3, this isnt a prediction or anything, its just stuff I think would be interesting based on where the characters are now. 

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Nine: Group Therapy

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A familiar drink brings back steamy memories for Shane (by popular demand), a ghost from the past picks a fight with the present, and the future hangs in the balance for our heroes.

Behind on the drama? It’s cool. I gotchu.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, violence, smut, alcohol consumption, more feels than you can shake a stick at.

Author’s Note: Guys. Listen guys. I know this chapter is a tad late…not that I have deadlines, I just know y’all want more sooner than I can always get it to you. It’s also, though, a bit longer than most of the previous installments have been. I hope you guys enjoy it. I think it’s my favorite chapter so far…I definitely cried the most writing it…you’ll see why…I’m not sorry. Initially, for some reason, it was hard to stay focused. (I blame my own emotions and feelings clouding my ambitions. Can’t let that happen anymore. Even though the same factors apply. I’ve gotta keep my head in it!) I’m actually pretty sad that there won’t be very much more of this story…they’ve been such good friends to me. I may just have to find a way to keep them going in follow-up drabbles. I don’t know. But I’m open to suggestions.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags: 

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

It wasn’t top on Shane’s list of things she wanted to do tonight, but it had been ages since she’d gone out with her friends. It wasn’t totally because she’d been seeing Sy. But more recently, he had become the most prevalent reason she ended up bowing out. Because she had plans with him, or she needed to do things that she hadn’t gotten or wouldn’t get done because of plans with him unless she skipped out. They were bad excuses, but those of an introvert weren’t usually top-shelf, anyway.

It was Heather, the other secretary Marsha and her husband Alec, some of her fellow PTs Cory and Juan, and both OTs, Olivia and Miranda there at Cade’s that night. And Shane and Sy, of course. They were sitting at two tables close together, and after dinner, the guys got up to play darts while the ladies ordered a round of shots.

Heather both requested and paid for the tray of tiny glasses full of dark liquor. Shane knew the aroma all too well. Those were full of Jack Daniels. And she got tingly just thinking about the spirit, especially now.

“Let’s drink the first round to Shane.” She passed them around and held one up. “For landing captain sexy pants over there, and for being happier than I’ve seen her in actual years.” Heather clinked to the middled with the other girls as they completed the toast with cheery responses of “to Shane!” With intermittent whoops and cat-calls. She felt funny saluting herself, so she said nothing, silently dedicating her own drink to the guy she wasn’t expecting, wasn’t even asking for, but who’d been gifted to her, by God Himself, it seemed. Whoever or whatever or why ever, she was grateful for him.

She downed the full measure of whiskey, feeling the familiar pleasant burn down her throat and reminisced about the last time she’d had the drink.

~~~~~~

“No you’re cheating!” She slurred at Sy’s kitchen table.

“Not how I see it!” He smirked, that crooked grin mixing with the alcohol in her already impaired system making a heady and dangerous concoction.

“You’re delib’rately using my PT career against me!” They we’re playing “Never Have I Ever.” And he’d just used “never have I ever measured somebody up with a big protractor.”

“Hey, you’ve been trying to get me with ‘never have I army this, and never have I army that.’ And you just can’t and now you’re mad about it.”

“Ugh, I’m not mad, I just…don’t like cheating okay. Fair play. I’m a Hufflepuff, through and through!”

“As a Gryffindor, I resent your implication against my honor! And I say, drink twice.” They’d run out of mixer, and were down to the straight liquor. She was fine with it. She loved the sweet, oaky burn of Number 7 as she held small swallows on her tongue. Relished the burn of it on the tender skin of her lips like a rough kiss. She took two shots at his insistence.

“Never have I ever…fired a gun!” And they both drank because she had chosen a “never” that she “had ever” on purpose. She liked feeling this way with Sy. She liked being able to abandon her control and feel safe in so doing. Knowing that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her. Including herself.

His eyes began to glimmer in a way that she could always tell meant he was thinking something particularly salacious. Which typically meant something good was about to happen.

“Never have I ever…fooled around in a kitchen.” He waited a beat, then slowly stood, taking a long stride to stand directly in front of Shane, towering over her as she sat limp from drinking and more than ready for whatever he was planning. The kiss he gave her was almost instantly hungry, devouring, consuming. A wild fire that would spread throughout the forest of her. He pulled a stool out from under the table near her, barely having to break the contact and sat down in front of her on it. She leaned into him now, the boneless feeling now overtaken by her craving for him. She tugged at his casual blue tank top that stunned her because of the way it matched his eyes so well. She needed him closer. His hands rested on her thighs, mostly bare in the shorts she'd chosen for tonight, simply for their comfort, and not because they provided any sort of easy access. Not on a conscious level, anyway, she told herself.

His grip was tightening but the pain of the pressure didn't matter. His thumbs and fingers were rupturing tiny blood vessels and she registered the pain and the fact that she would have bruises in the shape of his claiming grip but all that really mattered was that he was there. Near. Present. And touching her.  

His hands moved, sliding up her legs, their trajectory shifting inward, their aim to open her up to him.

She was nothing short of willing.

He reached down to the seat between her legs and pulled her closer to him. Yes, she thought. He's too far away. Even though she could smell the whiskey on his breath even as she tasted it, still sweet on her own tongue. He laid a gentle hand on her left cheek, an almost chaste gesture, that snaked into something entirely different as it descended, brushing her neck, between her breasts, and over her abdomen, tumultuous from his touch and the drink.

He made it finally to her apex, easily brushing aside the fabric of her shorts, and teasing her there over her underwear with a soft, measured touch. She threw her arms around his neck, a wordless plea for him to go on. But her body was at odds with her mind.

“Sy, I wanna go slow.” She meant she didn’t want to end up in his bed tonight. Well, not that she didn't want to…

"Don't worry, sunshine. I'll take it real slow." he assured her, pretending to misunderstand her meaning as he teased her over her panties. She couldn't have spoken to correct him even if his lips hadn't taken an urgent hold on hers. His firm but frustrating touch was leaving her speechless and breathless.

Finally, he moved her undergarment aside to touch her, skin to skin. To pull a sweet, euphoric moan from her with just his fingers. He had been right about taking his time. It took him ages to find that space inside her that brought her to her pinnacle, but he made the wait enjoyable, all the same. She had a feeling he could have gone right to it, if he’d wanted to, but since she’d asked for it…

He grinned and chuckled into her mouth a bit as he toyed with her. He finally spoke,

“Hot damn, girl, you should have told me you needed me this bad.” He added a second finger to his game of search and destroy.

She could only grasp at his bare shoulders and the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to ground herself. He quickened, then slowed in sweet torture until her cries of his name became over loud for his neighborhood. The last build up, he added his thumb , brushing it against her aching center.

It hit her in waves of bliss as every muscle in her body responded to his localized, expert touch. Her vision blurred and for a second she could see the electricity flowing through air and matter and into her. Since when did THAT happen to her when she came?

“Sy!” She whimpered, a plea for him to stop but also to never stop.

“I know, darlin’, it’s alright. I’ve gotcha. Go on and let it out.” And she barely realized another climax had been building in her before she was falling headlong into it again, just as intense as the first one. He slowed, gently soothing her body after its small death, rubbing her neck and shoulder on the right side with his free hand.

He took his right hand away from her heat, brought it up to his mouth, and tasted her on his fingers. He poured them both another shot of whiskey, they threw them back, and once she had caught her breath from it all, she said,

“I don’t know the score, but I think you’ve won.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the present, she felt too sober to handle the bombardment of questions coming from her coworkers, no matter how pure their intentions.

“So are you guys a couple, like officially?”

“Have you met each other’s folks?”

“Do you think he’s the one?”

“What is he like in bed!?”

“I bet he’s an absolute fiend!”

“Nah, guys ya think that about are always so vanilla.”

“How big is he!?”

All of these questions seemed to come at one time, or at least before she could answer the previous ones, and it made her head spin.

“Listen, girls. I’m gonna go get myself a strong drink, and when I come back, I’ll answer one question at a time, so figure out the order in which you’ll be asking, and a punishment system for interrupting. Fair?” The hens all nodded their beaks in agreement as she stood to go to the bar. She reminded herself to add a disclaimer when she got back to the table about having veto power over questions she felt weren’t appropriate.

As she stood at the bar waiting for her turn with the bartender, she tensed as she heard an all too familiar voice say her name.

“Shane Benton.” He said in a charming tenor that she now found obnoxiously boyish.

“Elliott Thomas. What misdeed did I do in a past life to end up back in the same room with you?” He ignored her jibe.

“You look well.” He said, surveying her as if he intended to make a purchase.

“Okay.” She would not give credence to half assed, insincere compliments.

“Who’s the guy you’re with tonight?”

“That couldn’t be any less your business.”

“You’ll always be my business, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Funny, you didn’t seem to give a shit when we were together.”

“Come on, tell me where ya met this meat head.”

“Back off, Elliott.”

“Come on. He’s in a plaid shirt. He looks like he’s trying to cosplay the Brawny man. How quick does he pick you up?” He raised his eyebrows, driving home his attempt at double entendre.

The rage came suddenly, without warning, and manifested in a firm slap from her right hand to his left cheek. It landed solidly enough for him to have to stretch his jaw and feel it, as if making sure it was still there.

"Well, still got some spunk. Good to know. Not so fast--" he grabbed her wrist as she stepped away from the bar, but she was saved the trouble of getting out of it with her favorite self-defense maneuver, by the solid wall of red plaid and denim topped with his favorite black Chiefs hat. Sy had apparently noticed her altercation at the bar and elected to step in.

"What's goin' on here?" he asked, not brusquely, but so coolly that it was almost friendly. Elliott let go of Shane's wrist immediately and threw his hands up.

"No trouble here, man. Just a little friendly conversation between two former lovers." he said, oozing pure, stinking hubris.

"Oh, you're Elliott. Nice to meet you, man." Sy reached out to shake the man's hand. "I've actually been wanting to thank you."

Elliott looked confused. So was Shane. This guy had broken her heart. What was Sy intent on thanking him for?

"I wanted to thank you for fucking up so bad with this kind, beautiful woman, this graceful and forgiving saint, that she couldn't stand the sight of you any longer. Who knows. If you hadn't been such a dick, she may not have been free to be with me today." all of this, Sy said with Elliott's hand still in his. Shaking it. Apparently not too firmly. Until Sy leaned in very closely and whispered something to Elliott that made him go several shades of puce, and grimace, pulling his hand away, which Sy eventually relinquished.

After Elliott had tucked his tail and ran away, Shane found herself in a far less merry temperament than she'd come in with. She and Sy decided to leave. They said their goodbyes, Shane promising more answers as soon as she could. And they left, her arm around his waist, and his around her shoulder.

About halfway to Sy's truck, Shane heard a solid ping near her ear and the shattering of glass on the pavement nearby, followed by a low growl from deep in Sy's chest. They halted in their stride, Shane turning quickly around, Sy turning more slowly and intentionally in the direction of his would be attacker.

Elliot stood beside the brick exterior of the bar with three other men, none of them within 50 pounds of Sy, and hardly a match for him…individually…but together, she was concerned. She would absolutely try to help fight these guys, but she couldn't take out more than one with the potential weapons she had on her person that she could inventory off hand. Plus, if she had to fight Elliott…he'd get into her head…she knew it. Thank God she didn't know the other guys. She'd hope to get one of them.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Sy said, back to his polite self, not worried about potentially getting into a street fight in which they were outnumbered two to one.

"Just thought you'd like to tell my buddies here what you said to me in there. I mean, I gave them the gist, but I think they'd like to hear it from you." Elliott puffed.

"Ah, somebody can't keep a secret." Sy sigh scolded him, wagging his finger at him as if he was a misbehaved child. "I was gonna let it all go as long as you left us alone. Did you mention that to them before you got them into a whole mess o' trouble?"

"Tell them, you fuckin' coward."

"Big talk from a guy who had to make it four to one before he confronted me." Sy accused.

"Four to two." Shane squared her shoulders, standing next to Sy, and attempting to make herself look more formidable, which was next to impossible given the fact that the man beside her was a massive army captain and she was just…herself. But she'd be damned if she stood by and let Sy take all of this on when it was all because of her. Plus, she didn't want him to reinjure himself.

"How about you jump in if I need ya, sunshine." He whispered to her. She didn't move or reply. "But ya know, since ya asked so nicely, I will oblige. I told this piss-ant friend of yours after he physically accosted this lovely lady here, in no uncertain terms that if he EVER touched MY GIRLFRIEND again, he'd be begging for death for hours before I had mercy on him and put him out of his misery and that his body would never be found." He eyed each of the men before him, his fiery gaze a physical force upon them, letting his promise to Elliott sink in. "Now if y'all wanna defend a man who would put hands on a woman, and then proceed to physically assault a United States Army veteran like myself, I can come up with similar guarantees for all of ya. And carry them out here tonight. But y'all look like ya've got a lot o' shit ya still wanna get done in this life with limbs and dicks intact. So I would encourage all of you fine gentlemen to walk away from this situation."

Two of the men, surrendered, claiming Elliott hadn't mentioned that he'd hurt Shane or that Sy was a vet. One of the men asked to shake his hand and thanked him for his service. The smallest member of Elliott's group, however, remained with him. Shane thought she recognized him after getting a better look. He'd been at a few events she'd been to with Elliott's friend group. She thought his name was Kyle. Clearly he was one of Elliott's oldest and most loyal friends. He still looked skeptical. Unsure that the two of them alone could take Sy. Shane thought he was right to be worried.

"Come on, Kyle!" Elliott summoned his friend to the fight.

"I dunno, man. He's a soldier and I mean…look at him. Look at us!"

"You pussy." Elliott walked up to Sy.

"You don't want to do this, friend." Sy warned.

"I'm not your friend, asshole. You stole my girlfriend." he swung wildly at the larger man, but missed. He was unsteady, Shane could see now, from excessive drink. She hadn't noticed inside.

Sy remained still for one punch that landed weakly on his jaw, barely displacing it. "Are you done, there, Mayweather? We even? Now that you got to hit me?"

"We are not done. Not until one of us is on the ground." Elliott insisted.

"Fair enough." Sy socked him with a jab straight to the nose, knocking him dizzily to the hard asphalt of the parking lot. Kyle came up to him to drag Elliott to a nearby car as his head lolled forward like a rag doll.

"I'll get him to the ER. Explain to them what happened. You guys get home safe. And thanks for not killing him. Or me." Kyle said as he opened his passenger door. Sy helped heave Elliott's comatose form into the seat and shook Kyle's hand.

Shane's eyes were still wide at the entire chain of events. Her adrenaline supercharged from her readiness to fight alongside her man. Which, she was both relieved and disappointed that she didn't have to do. But there was another thing on her mind. She had been mentally replaying what Sy had said to Elliott played over and over for more reasons than his chivalrous and heroic conduct.

When they were in the car and headed to her house, Shane asked him about it.

"So…you called me your girlfriend tonight." she looked at him.

"Shit, Shane, I'm sorry. I've been wanting to ask ya for days to make things official, and I just haven't found the right time. I was gonna ask you over drinks tonight in front of all your friends, but then that asshole fucked it all up. I even have a gift for you." he fished around in his pocket for a small, flat box, and handed it to her. She flipped up the spring loaded lid of the black velvet box, and inside, on a tiny pillow of black satin was a silver necklace with a silver charm. An "S" in an elaborate script with a small emerald set in the lower hook of the letter. "And if you don't want to make it official, you can still keep the necklace, because the 'S' can be for 'Shane,' and the stone can just be an emerald, and ya don't have to think about it like it's my birthstone, and I--"

"Sy, hush. Of course I want to be your girlfriend, officially. I've been dying to say it myself. And I love the necklace. It's perfect."

"Really? You mean it? All of it?" she'd never seen him so desperate. She had no idea why he thought she might not be serious. But she did have an idea of how to prove it.

"Stay with me tonight, Sy."

"It's still early yet, babe. I'll have plenty of time--"

"No, I mean, I want you. Tonight." How could she be more clear than that?

"Oh, you mean…but I thought you wanted to wait until my treatments were over?" He asked, as if he didn't want to get his hopes up just yet.

"When you were on the phone with my boss that day, you said something that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. Something that's gnawed at my will and resolve ever since. You said that life was too short, and you didn't want to wait to be happy when you could be happy now." she was verging on tears. "Well, I'm tired of waiting too, Sy. You make me happier than I've ever been, and I don't see the point in ignoring what we really want anymore. Because the fact is, Sy…the fact has been for a while now," she laughed at her own foolishness for stifling and ignoring it all this time, "I love you. And I think I have from the moment you first called me ma'am." She was fully crying now, and the tears had broken through down his cheeks, as well.

He pulled into her driveway and jumped out of his truck, still running, headlights blazing into her yard. He jogged around the front, but Shane, being uninjured had caught up to him without the benefit of a head start. He caught her up in his arms as if she'd stay there forever. They sobbed tears of joy and relief as they kissed each other with abandon, silhouettes against the footlights and exhaust courtesy of the Ford Motor Company, the PowerStroke engine roaring a soundtrack for this moment as it idled.

"I love you, Shane. From the moment you found me dreading therapy all alone that first day and cheered me up instantly. I knew." he brush the tears and hairs away from her face and held it, scrutinizing her features in the high-beams as if he intended to draw her from memory.

"I didn't know you were dreading it." she laughed, lightening the mood a bit.

"I was. A lot. Never had a lot of luck, especially recently, with PT. Until you."

She smiled, and looked at the truck, a third party to their romantic moment now more obvious to her.

"You're wasting gas."

"Hang the gas. I'm wasting time with you. You wanna go inside?" he asked. She nodded.

"You go get your purse. I'll be right around."

Sy shut off the truck and took his keys out, locking the vehicle from the fob after his arm was back around Shane and they were walking up her front porch steps.

Up Next: Chapter 10- Myofascial Release

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Hawkeye #1-4

September, 1983

Listen to the Mockingbird

Now for something completely different.

-OR- Further justifying why the posts are titled Essential Avengers when I’m just going to put a colon and then an Avengers to get Essential Avengers: Avengers. Its because sometimes its not Avengers!

Sometimes its Hawkeye.

Since I’m doing four issues in one post, I’m not going to go as in-depth as I usually do.

So, last times on Avengers as related to Hawkeye: Hawkeye was cut from the Avengers due to a limited roster. He eventually got a job as the security chief at Cross Technological Enterprises with the same lack of restraint that got him a job with the Avengers. He’s been doing that for a while, since pre-200. Recently the Avengers needed beef up their roster and Cap and Iron Man convinced him to rejoin, which Hawkeye has done while also keeping his security chief job.

During an Avengers mission TO RESCUE THE PRESIDENT, he broke his leg and was put on medical leave from the team. He got one of the CTE people to build him a rocket-sled that he could putt around in. Judging by the lack of cast, his leg is better but he’s still using the cool rocket-sled.

And that’s where we are. Hawkeye has a cool rocket-sled and is actually holding down an actual job at Cross Technological Enterprises. He’s seems to still be on leave from the team despite his leg being better.

The miniseries starts with Hawkeye congratulating himself on getting a cool rocket-sled, even though it cost all of his money.

Hawkeye: “‘Bad guys beware -- Hawkeye’s in the air!’ Hmmm, not the worst slogan an aerial archer could have... but close.”

At least he’s self-aware. Some days that’s all you can ask of Hawkeye!

He spots three suspicious characters suspiciously sneaking and swoops down on the rocket-sled, taking them out with ease with his totally sweet trick arrows.

Hey, note to comic makers of our modern day. Trick arrows are sweet. I don’t need to see people getting shot in the eyes with arrows when I can see like a net arrow or whatever.

The three suspicious characters are actually CTE employees that Hawkeye asked to come in on their off time to help him get a hang of archering from the rocket-sled. Including the scientist, Jorge, who built it for him!

Wow, Hawkeye!

Jorge at least was happy to do build the thing because he feels like his talents are wasted at CTE and Hawkeye encourages him to go into business for himself.

Which is probably the kind of thing that’s going to get Hawkeye a reprimand but hey, good looking out, Hawkguy.

One of the other CTE employees asks why Hawkeye uses a bow and arrow instead of... a gun. Why not just shoot people with a gun.

Hawkeye: “The bow is quieter, more versatile, and in my hands the deadliest weapon in the state. Or hadn’t you noticed, Howie?”

He doesn’t mention that its also more believably non-lethal than if he were going around with a gun. Because Hawkeye says its the deadliest weapon in the state but he’s also a huge proponent of “superheroes don’t kill!”

But point being, you can buy a comic book guy pinning people to walls with arrows or using trick arrows or shooting weapons out of their hands without killing anyone way more than you could if Hawkeye was just using a magnum.

Also, this:

I believe he is literally flexing on that dude.

CTE’s new public relations lady Sheila Danning shows up for a date with Hawkeye because I guess there’s no rule about dating co-workers. Or at least if they’re not in the same department?

Having a woman showing positive attention to Hawkeye is his cue to have a little internal monologue that’s a little bit sad.

Hawkeye: Man, this is the life! A ridiculously high-paying job, a fast machine between my legs, and a foxy lady who’s nuts about me. What more could a guy want? Until Sheila came along, I thought I was put on this world for women to dump on. Women... like the Black Widow and Scarlet Witch. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t get them to care for me like I did for them. Sheila’s different. Even though we’ve been seeing each other for only a month, what we have is special, real, like nothing I’ve ever known.

I don’t want to ruin his good times but I will remind the audience that he once rage-quit the Avengers because Scarlet Witch didn’t want to kiss him.

Anyway, Hawkeye is pretty enamored. He’s even thinking maybe it’s time he settles down.

He takes her back to his place and they start dancing to some Mantovani as he recaps his entire backstory to her.

In fairness. In faiiiirness. She asked.

But you should know the drill. Clint and Barney ran away from the orphanage to join the circus. Swordsman saw potential in Clint and trained him in archery and Clint began seeing Swordsman as a father figure so threw himself into training in hopes that Swordsman would be proud of him.

Which is funny in an odd way because there’s some same-face going on and Swordsman looks just like Tony Stark!

I wonder if Clint ever slipped up and called Tony dad and had to cover it up by continuing into a daddio.

Anyway, he caught Swordsman with stolen money and Swordmaster left him in a broken heap and skipped town when Clint wouldn’t promise to keep quiet.

Later, he saw the adulation that Iron Man got when he flew over the circus and thought wait I can do that. Got a costume and tried to become a hero. Oops, tripped into being a supervillain and enemy of Iron Man. Annd then joined the Avengers.

Hawkeye: “I’ve done many a stint with my Avenging buddies, but I think I’m finally ready to wing it solo for good. Much as I like ‘em, they cramp my style a bit too much.”

Sheila: “Fascinating story, Clint. Looks like I’ve got a real self-made man. How about if I try to unmake you a little?”

And then they’re about to do sexy times when Clint’s emergency beeper goes off. Because somehow the emergency always knows when you’re horny or mid-ablution.

Hawkeye has to suit back up and head out back to work

Hah.

But anyway, he catches a lady in a very sleevesy costume prowling around and during some back and forth and further back and forth pinned you no pinned you action, she introduces herself as Mockingbird, an ex-shield agent and freelance crimebuster (I think that means superhero?).

Some underworld contacts of hers led her to investigate Cross Technological Enterprises under suspicion that CTE is manufacturing mass mind control technology right under a certain Avenger slash archer’s nose. I.e., Hawkeye.

She wants him to lead her to warehouse 10 but their conversation is interrupted by a security night shift who rush in and surround Mockingbird despite Hawkeye ordering prior to the action scene to let him handle it.

They cuff Mockingbird and take her away but oddly claim that they thought Hawkeye sent the signal for them to charge in.

Hawkeye is perplexed and vexed wondering if there’s anything to Mockingbird’s story. He doesn’t know the full extent of what CTE manufactures and there was some shady business in Marvel Fanfare #3 where a vice-president was using CTE facilities to manufacture a bomb.

Mockingbird’s story bugs him so much that he returns home to Sheila and tells her that there’s something he has to take care of and sends her home in a cab.

He returns to Cross on his sweet rocket-sled and investigates warehouse 10, finding it empty but with a lot of fresh tracks in the dust, like something was moved in only the past hour or so.

Also, a bunch of security staff show up and point guns at him.

That’s also a red flag.

When reminding them he’s their boss doesn’t settle them down, he rolls to the floor to shoot out the lights like a cool action guy and then starts taking them out in the dark just by shooting whenever he hears one of the idiots make a sound.

But one of the guards has Sheila hostage even though she was supposed to have gone home so Hawkeye has to surrender.

The guards toss him into a pit with Mockingbird. Just an oubliette that CTE has on premise, as ya do.

Hawkeye demands to speak with Sheila so he knows she’s alright and whoops she’s in on it.

Sheila Danning, heartbreaker: “Barton -- you stupid fool! Why did you have to be so conscientious? It was my job to keep you distracted so you’d have no time to notice the operation Cross had been contracted for -- a very costly, deadly operation.”

Hawkeye, heartbroken: “What are you talking about, Sheila? Are you saying they paid you to -- to --”

Sheila: “Yes, they paid me. I was pretty convincing, wasn’t I? You never had the slightest idea that I could sooner love a dog than a cornball Romeo with delusions of adequacy like you.”

Hawkeye: “You can’t mean that! They must’ve brainwashed you, poisoned your mind against me! Or -- or maybe you’re not Sheila at all, an imposter, or a robot -- !”

Sheila: “Don’t kid yourself, Barton. I’m the one and only. The woman who could barely keep from snickering when you told her your carnival story this evening.”

Ouch.

I like to mock Hawkeye because he deserves some light ribbing but ouch, she slipped a knife right between those ribbings.

That poor dolt was thinking about proposing and she was paid to distract him by feigning interest. Oof ouch.

Anyway, since CTE has suddenly become Bond-esque, they start dumping liquid industrial waste into the pit to drown and/or melt Hawkeye and Mockingbird.

The stuff is like acid but Hawkeye is kind of wallowing in being dumped and doesn’t care.

Hawkeye: “I ain’t moving. All my life I’ve been dumped on. I’m beginning to enjoy it.”

Mockingbird tells him that if he lets himself be melted by industrial waste because he feels sorry for himself, his ex wins. But that doesn’t move him so she has to mock him into action. This is what she was named for!

Mockingbird: “So this is what they taught you in the Avengers? What a bunch of jerks! They should see you now. I’ll bet you let them down in a pinch, too. Whenever your feelings get hurt.”

Hawkeye: “SHUT UP! I’m gonna get us out of here, lady. Then I’m going to kill Sheila for what she did to me. Then you’ll get yours, too.”

Mockingbird: “Sure, sure. Get us out first.”

Hah, I like Mockingbird.

And I like Hawkeye too. He makes good use of what he has to escape this Bond-esque trap. He doesn’t have his bow or his arrows but he keeps a fifty foot length of cord in his boot and spare arrowheads in his tunic. He calls his rocket-sled with the remote control, ties the cord to a spare rocket arrow-tip and rockets himself and Mockingbird out of the pit and up to his rocket-sled.

Then Hawkeye says he has to go attend some private business and Mockingbird is like cool, I’ll wait for you and hops onto a roof.

Hawkeye rams the rocket-sled through the window of Sheila Danning’s office and jump kicks the guards she has with her and confronts her.

Hawkeye: “You hurt me, Sheila... More than anything ever hurt in my life.”

Sheila: “Stay back, Hawkeye! I - I --”

Hawkeye: “I could kill you for what you did to me. But I won’t. I... can’t. I just don’t care anymore... about you or about whatever scheme Cross is up to! Give me my bow and quiver back and I’ll go.”

Tangentially, like an anime, his shirt is a lot flimsier than his pants and melted off in the acid while his pants are tattered but intact. If only they made shirts out of pants...

And if only they made any outfit out of lady outfit. Mockingbird’s outfit has a few holes and tatters but her whole top didn’t dissolve like Hawkeye’s did!

Sheila does give Hawkeye his archery stuff but warns him that he Knows Too Much and Cross will come after him.

Kind of a weird flex to pull on AN AVENGER WHO KNOWS THOR but you do you, Cross Technological Enterprises.

Hawkeye just takes off on his sweet rocket-sled without responding, zooming past where he left Mockingbird who has to jump onto the moving rocket-sled because he does not slow down for her.

Mockingbird: “Got your business taken care of, sport?”

Hawkeye, crying a little: “Shut up, just shut up. If you hadn’t shown up, none of this could have happened.”

Oof.

That’s the hurt speaking buddy. Ignorance wouldn’t have been bliss here because as soon as Cross didn’t need to distract you any longer, Sheila probably would have found some excuse to dump you.

Also, their scheme was asinine! They don’t have other facilities? Just build the mind control doohickey somewhere else instead of paying someone to distract Hawkeye with horny!

October, 1983

POINT BLANK!

So after having his heart broken and wallowing in some acid sludge in the last issue, Hawkeye is in a bad place. Emotionally. And also geographically.

He’s standing on some abandoned railroad tracks under the West Side Highway and shooting arrows at a bullseye he crudely drew on a cement block.

And Good Archer Hawkeye has not hit a single bullseye because of all the emotional turmoil. Also, since he’s shooting at concrete, he’s breaking all of his arrows.

He’s also wearing his no-shirt acid-tattered costume.

And he’s been here for 42 hours without sleeping, eating, or managing to hit a bullseye.

He’s in a bad place.

So he passes out and he’s eventually found by some random street toughs who recognize him as an Avenger (although they think his name is Nighthawk womp womp) and decide ‘hey lets kick his ass and do him a murder maybe.’

Hawkeye comes to, as one might when people are kicking them in the head, and manages to nail three bullseyes on the three toughs he didn’t kick unconscious.

Hawkeye: Three bullseyes. Two kayos. Five sleezos in dreamland. Thanks, creeps. You gave me a reason to go on living. I’m just not sure what it is!

But now Hawkeye is at a loss of what to actually do. He refuses to go to the Avengers for help because blah blah blah muh pride. He can’t go and “mooch” off of them. So he decides to go check out the apartment he had through Cross Technological Enterprises and see whether they’ve cleared him out or not.

They have.

Everything he had to his name except the clothes on his back and bow in his hand gone. Arrow-making tools and spare costumes gone too.

But he also finds Mockingbird waiting for him.

Mockingbird: “Hello, Hawk. Can I buy you some breakfast?”

Hawkeye: “MOCKINGBIRD! Lady, you’re not one of my favorite people, but I know a good offer when I hear one.”

A free breakfast is a free breakfast.

Mockingbird takes Hawkeye back to her apartment and apologizes for blowing up his life but also says that it would have happened eventually anyway even had she never come along.

Which, yeah, you can only pay a person to pretend to love someone they hate for so long before the mask slips.

She also offers to mend his costume. Not sure how she’s thinking. Its not torn. Its half gone.

Hawkeye says yeah sure but hey why don’t you narrate your ENTIRE BACKSTORY.

So Mockingbird introduces herself as Barbara Morse, Bobbi to her friends.

She was a biology whiz at Georgia Tech and went with her favorite professor when she signed on to a government project to recover the super-soldier serum that made Captain America so super.

SHIELD was one of the sponsors of the project so Bobbi got to know several SHIELD agents and realized ‘hey being a spy sounds AMAZING’ and signed up with SHIELD’s spy school.

She graduated top of her class and was sent on a mission to track down Ka-Zar who SHIELD wanted to hire.

Mockingbird: “I found the jungle man all right. Even got involved with him, if you know what I mean. But things never quite worked out between us.”

Oh my god, what a power move to brag about nailing discount-Tarzan while recapping your life story.

Later, she investigated SHIELD itself at the request of a Congressman under the identity as the Huntress. But not the crossbow one. But because of her actions, she gained the reputation as a traitor to SHIELD.

So she changed her name to Mockingbird and took the evidence of corrupt agents to Nick Fury. And got shot a couple times in the attempt.

She had to spend six months recovering and after turned down a SHIELD promotion to go solo.

Mockingbird: “Not that I had anything against S.H.I.E.L.D... I just got used to operating alone. It wasn’t long after I got back into circulation that I came across the lead that took me to Cross Tech and I bumped into you. So that’s my lifestory in a nutshell, Hawk.”

I don’t know why I thought Mockingbird debuted in this series because she has a lot of backstory here. She showed up in Astonishing Tales #6 unnamed, was introduced as Dr. Barbara Morse in Astonishing Tales #12, was introduced in her Huntress (but not that one) identity in Marvel Super Action #1, and even Mockingbird debuted in Marvel Team-Up #95! Geez, Bobbi!

Annnnnd then Mockingbird realizes that Hawkeye fell asleep on her while she was recapping her entire life!

Bobbi doesn’t hold it against him, realizing how exhausted he must have been.

She tucks him in and heads off to go pick up some supplies to fix his costume.

Later, someone picks the locks to the apartment door and silently comes up and puts a gun to the sleeping Hawkeye’s head.

Perhaps it is instinct -- a survival sense honed in hundreds of life-and-death struggles... But somehow Clint Barton feels the cool gun metal at his temple, instantly recognizes it for what it is -- and reacts.

(We actually see a hint of this dingus at Hawkeye’s apartment when he meets Mockingbird there. Implying that he somehow followed them from there to Bobbi’s apartment. Somehow. Even though Hawkeye and Bobbi took Hawkeye’s sweet rocket-sled. Good tracking, this guy.)

Hawkeye manages to dive away from the guy’s gunfire and hide behind one of those tables that looks like a giant spool. He weirdly realizes that the assassin’s gun isn’t making any sound when he fires and the bullets aren’t making any noise when they hit.

He’s in a tough spot unable to reach his bow in time when Mockingbird comes back to save Hawkeye, flipping the assassin and telling Hawkeye to grab his gun.

The assassin jumps out the window rather than deal with the both of them (Bobbi speculates its because she’s not on his hit list).

Hawkeye tests the gun after and discovers that its not silenced which means that the silencer was all in the guy’s suit, muting all the sounds he makes.

He dubs the guy Silencer and he has a pretty neat gimmick but doesn’t seem to ever appear again after this issue.

Shame. Imagine this guy against Daredevil.

Anyway, Mockingbird also managed to make Hawkeye a new outfit while she was gone.

Mockingbird: “Here -- better put this on. Half-naked men with guns make it hard for me to concentrate.”

Hawkeye: “Sure.”

God. Hawkeye’s non-reaction to that blatant flirt makes me laugh. He may as well have Saitama meme’d.

So the new outfit.

The blue is a lot darker now. The dangly part of the tunic is a lot less dangly now. And the outfit has some asymmetrical sleeves. Also, its not entirely clear on this shot but the gloves are weird. They don’t cover the sides of his fingers. I don’t know if that’s an archery thing or what and I don’t know if that’s going to be a detail that lasts once other artists start drawing this costume.

All in all, not a bad looking new outfit. Its better than that time he didn’t wear pants.

Later that night, Hawkeye figures that they need to return to Cross and figure out who hired them to build that mind-control thing. But, they’ll need help getting back into Cross.

(Hey, I just realized. Hawkeye was double Cross’d by his employer. Hah.)

They go to visit Jorge Latham, the guy who built a sweet rocket-sled for Hawkeye so probably the guy he trusts the most now.

Jorge: “What happened to you, man? We got a memo two days ago that you were fired for incompetency, and I haven’t seen you since!”

Aw man, insult to injury! They told everyone that Hawkeye was fired because he sucked too hard!

Hawkeye tells Jorge the story, in brief, about how Cross is up to something, gets information on where the special projects are done, and tells Jorge to maybe get his resume in order in case he accidentally shuts the whole company down in the course of blowing this thing wide open.

Jorge is a lot more chill about learning he might be unemployed soon than I think a lot of other people would be. Although he had already expressed he wasn’t really satisfied in his job.

Hawkeye: “The info he gave us is going to save us a lot of hassle. Sure is good to have a few folks you can trust.”

Mockingbird: “You still don’t quite trust me, do you, Hawkeye? Even after I saved your life.”

Hawkeye: “No offense, lady. But it’s going to take me a while before I can fully trust any woman again.”

Geez, really hope that doesn’t last. He already teetered into disrespect of women without becoming a full-on misogynist.

Drink your respect women juice, Hawkeye.

The two return to Cross Technological Enterprises and Hawkeye uses his electronic security neutralizer arrowhead to neutralize the security on a window so they can jimmy it open and get inside.

.... Why do you need an electronic security neutralizer arrow? The way he uses it is tracing the circuit in the window and I don’t think you could shoot an arrow in a way that did that. And if you did shoot an arrow at a security system in a window, I think you’d break the window and set off the alarm?

What a mystery.

Hawkeye has never been in the special projects department but it doesn’t take a genius to find some filing cabinets.

Mockingbird: “Locked, of course. It also doesn’t take an electronic gizmo to open a locked file. Just a hairpin. See?”

Hawkeye: “Showoff.”

This would be banter if Hawkeye didn’t look so somber.

But Hawkeye gets to be useful too when he pulls out his....... penlight arrowhead?

WHY WOULD YOU EVER NEED TO FIRE A FLASHLIGHT? WHAT PURPOSE DOES THAT SERVE??

Mockingbird: “I just don’t know how I ever got along without you and your handy tools, Mr. H.”

DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM

The Silencer guy sneaks up on the duo as they’re snooping the files and something cues Hawkeye in to swivel around and fire an electro-stun arrow. Couldn’t have been a sound so lets say air flow?

The electro-stun doesn’t stun the Silencer so him and Hawkeye end up grappling right out the window. Because that’s the kind of life Hawkeye leads.

Luckily the rocket-sled (although he’s changed the name to sky-mobile by this point) was hovering right outside so the two wind up grappling on it as it rockets around the CTE compound.

The two wind up falling off the sky-mobile and onto a smokestack... God, its starting to be like one of those giant chicken fights...

Anyway, the Silencer catches the edge but Hawkeye misses and goes plummeting into a smokestack, hopefully not to find a Spider-Man skeleton.

The Silencer drops his guard to try to figure out how the heck he’s going to get down from here and Hawkeye reemerges, yanking the Silencer down and pulling himself back up.

Not sure if the implication is that Hawkeye killed him. Hawkeye is famously vehemently ‘Avengers don’t kill!’ and the Silencer isn’t confirmed dead but also never shows up again.

Hawkeye summons the sky-sled (the caption changed the name on me again) and rockets back to where he left Mockingbird and in the meantime she’s found all the information they need to find who hired Cross to build the thing.

Hawkeye: “Run into any trouble?”

Mockingbird: “Not really.”

Hah. Apparently she beat up a room full of guards while he was gone. Good on you, Mockingbird.

November, 1983

Beating the ODDS

Pretty neat cover.

Also, pretty neat logo. I didn’t mention it earlier but yeah you have a neat logo, Hawkeye.

Mockingbird and Hawkeye return to her apartment after breaking into Cross Technological last issue.

Something that they may have done well to ponder is whether maybe it wasn’t a safe HQ anymore if that Silencer guy was able to track them there.

What I’m getting at is that there are two more assassins - Oddball and Bombshell - watching from an adjacent rooftop as the heroes head inside.

And then the apartment explodes.

Hawkey and Mockingbird manage to escape the explosion though because Mockingbird never sweeps and noticed footprints in the dust and Hawkeye used a thermite-tipped bomb-sniffing arrow.

... Okay, that gimmick arrow is valid.

Mockingbird watches her apartment burn “in increasingly sullen fascination” for two hours before Hawkeye suggests maybe coming back after everything is cooled down.

Alas, the sky-mobile was destroyed in the explosion. Alas, alas, we barely knew ye and now you’re gone.

Mockingbird has an odd sense of what’s romantic because she decides that her apartment burning down and losing all of her possessions is.

Wow, she’s been friendly and flirty with Hawkeye but she’s downright into the lug. Right during the one period in his life when he wouldn’t enjoy that. How’s that for bad timing?

Also, someone is clearly shipping these two.

Mockingbird has assorted appearances before this miniseries so I wonder who got the idea to throw her together with Hawkeye. I’ve heard rumors that it was to copy the Green Arrow/Black Canary pairing. I don’t know if that’s true or just an assumption.

Anyway, Hawkeye also finds an 8-ball in the wreckage which is odd and a clue because Mockingbird didn’t have one of those.

The two heroes realize that Cross obviously sent more hitmen after them so they got to figure out this plot before they get got.

Mockingbird withdraws the rest of her money from an ATM (only $97. Freelance superheroing just doesn’t pay...) and Hawkeye insists on spending some of that money on some arrows since he’s down to his last one.

Mockingbird: “I thought you needed specially made arrows.”

Hawkeye: “My new modular arrowheads fit on any target arrow... get ‘em at any sporting-goods store.”

This issue is a gift.

And since they now don’t have enough money to take a cab to where they’re going, they get on the subway.

Where in one of those amazingly contrived comic coincidences, Steve Rogers Captain America happens to be riding the same car!

Cap recognizes that Hawkeye is on a mission and offers to drop everything to help him.

You’re a cool guy, Cap.

Hawkeye has concerns.

Hawkeye: Aw, no. Cap is Mr. Avengers himself. I know I’m at the end of my resources, maybe way out of my depth, but if I let Cap in on it, he’ll wind up running the show... and I’ll end up on the sidelines again, just like it was back in the Avengers.

Pride goeth before something, Hawks.

Although, knowing vaguely what I know is soon upcoming, its a very timely time for Hawkeye to worry about running the show.

Hawkeye: “Ah, it’s nothing I can’t handle, old timer. Just the same old bopping the bad guys stuff.”

Cap: “I read you, soldier. Anyway, you know how to reach me if you get in a jam.”

You’re a really cool guy, Cap.

Hawkeye and Mockingbird get off at the next stop and Mockingbird grills Hawkeye about the hunky stranger, recognizing that he was probably in the superhero biz. Adding some context to Hawkeye not wanting Cap involved perhaps. Although its still a lot of dumb pride.

Hawkeye: She meets Cap in his civvies and is bowled over. No wonder I always looked like a piker around him. You know, I never realized how second rate Cap makes me feel. I’ve just go to solve this whole mess on my own. If I don’t, I may never be able to stand on my own two feet.

Anyway, then an 8-ball rolls and bonks into Hawkeye’s feet and he sees one of the assassins lurking around the corner doing him a taunt.

This issue is a gift for out of context panels. I swear.

Hawkeye realizes Oddball is baiting him but also is the exact kind of impulsive person who takes the bait. So he runs off after Oddball.

Oddball is..... apparently a juggling based assassin. Dunno why that’s such a common thing in comics. But here we are. He’s a juggling based assassin.

Hawkeye runs on ahead after Oddball and Mockingbird gets ambushed by a nun as she follows.

Its that kind of book, I guess.

Also, the nun is the other assassin Bombshell.

She’s got a Black Widow style wrist launcher for incendiary charges.

Hawkeye and Oddball get into an archery vs juggling based standoff, yes really, and then Oddball jumps onto a subway train, further luring Hawkeye. Who should really know better but ignores the part of his brain that some call common sense.

Oddball, by the by, is somewhat of an oddball. He’s just giggling and joking his way through this mission to kill an Avenger. He’s definitely following the maxim that if you do what you love, you don’t kill for money a day of your life. Or something.

When he jumps on the train he goes with “We’re having fun now, all rightee! Care for another shot, sport? I’ll match my speed to yours anyday and twice on Sunday. Time’s up, gotta go. Ta-ta!”

Hawkeye jumps onto the back of a departing subway train to keep up the pursuit and you know what, he seems like he’s having a good time too?

Hawkeye: Man, there’s nothing like a good chase to make me feel great about myself again. Wonder if Oddball would consent to be my regular sparring partner? Cap’s got the Red Skull, Iron Man has the Mandarin. Me, I never had anybody all my own.

He must be feeling some chemistry with this dude if he wants to make him his archnemesis after only one fight.

Although after this

Hawkeye decides that Oddball is way too much to be his nemesis. He’s got standards, dammit!

Oddball runs off the train, pursued by archer.

Oddball: “I could pick him off any time I want. I know I can throw faster than he can shoot. But I’m having just plain too much fun to cut it short.”

Sure, guy.

Oddball and Hawkeye wind up having a stand-off in the rafters of the subway station because that’s the kind of guy Oddball is.

Hawkeye manages to pin the guy down with an arrow to his throat but while he’s been chasing an oddball, Mockingbird got her ass kicked by a bombshell.

So a distracted Hawkeye gets knocked out via bomb to the back of the head.

Bombshell catches Hawkeye as he falls from the rafters and Oddball wonders why not just let him die.

Bombshell: “I just got a call from [the boss]. He wants these two birds brought to him to use in some kind of experiment.”

And so the third issue ends with Hawkeye and Mockingbird being carried off to the perpetrators which saves some time but being brought in as prisoners is less than ideal.

Shoulda taken up Steve on his offer, Clint.

December, 1983

“TILL DEATH DO US PART...”

I guess Hawkeye fuckin’ dies.

He sure has a lot of friends but Johnny Storm looks like he’s annoyed that he has to attend. ‘What the heck, I barely knew the guy!’

Anyway, between issues, Oddball and Bombshell have dragged Hawkeye and Mockingbird to a place and strung them up on a thing.

The place is apparently a mortuary.

And they’ve been strung up for hours judging by how their limbs feel.

The man behind it all shows himself and guy knows how to make an impression.

Not necessarily a good one.

The cross shaped codpiece is killing me.

As is Oddball juggling in the background to remind us that he is a juggler.

Crossfire: “I am Crossfire -- master subversive, brainwasher, and entrepreneur.”

Credit where its due, that’s a funny line.

Crossfire: “In the typical fashion of someone who holds all the cards, I’m going to divulge to you more than you will need to know about me and my business...”

I want to question this but he’s too self-aware about how stupid it is. I have no room to operate here.

Here is something I WILL make fun of.

Crossfire’s real name is William Cross. He is related to the guy that founded Cross Technological Enterprises. So them screwing over Hawkeye was like a family activity.

But he’s using Cross in his codename. Like if Hawkeye was instead Bartonman. It’s a choice.

Anyway, Crossfire was a CIA agent but when he realized that his real interest lie in fomenting disorder for profit, he decided him and the CIA weren’t on the same path.

Which. Guy. Dude. Fella. No.

Crossfire also realized that superheroes would eventually get in his way so he decided that his first goal is to eliminate all costumed superheroes.

Moon Knight and the Thing thwarted a prototype over in Marvel Two-in-One #52 but Crossfire managed to get away to refine his plan.

(For bigger)

His plan is pretty ingenious actually.

He’s going to kill Hawkeye. So far so good. Then dump his body in Central Park where it will be easily found.

The Avengers will find out about his death and have a funeral for him. And Crossfire made sure they’ll use Restwell Funeral because it has the best name! But more seriously because its the funeral parlor the superheroes used for Whizzer’s funeral and because Crossfire will make sure every other mortuary is booked.

HE’S PLANNING EVERY ANGLE.

Then at the service, he’ll activate the Undertaker machine which will send a subliminal RAGE signal to all the superheroes and they’ll fight to the death.

Crossfire: “Yes, I fully expect my lovely chapel to be thoroughly demolished. Don’t worry -- insurance will cover it.”

This is such a hilariously mundane concern.

Anyway, probably the whole funeral party won’t kill each other but it’ll thin the numbers, the survivors will forever be traumatized at what they did, and the government will crack down on superheroes.

And as for why he chose Hawkeye?

Crossfire: “I would think it was obvious, Hawkeye. You are the weakest, most vulnerable known costumed crimefighter in town.”

Ouch.

There’s planning to kill a guy as part of a larger scheme to kill all his friends and then there’s just being hurtful.

Further insulting injury? Crossfire is not just going to kill them. He’s going to make Hawkeye and Mockingbird kill each other by testing the Undertaker device on them.

That settles it. This guy is a dick.

The Restwell mortuary has a super sealed room for testing the device. Twelve inch thick concrete and steel walls and a door sealed with electronic lock. It would take even the Hulk some effort and Hawkeye and Mockingbird don’t even have their weapons.

Plus, there’s three cameras watching the room and the Undertaker speakers are hidden and durable.

Alas, Crossfire wouldn’t make a good Bond villain. He’s too not leaving a blatant way out of his death trap out of arrogance.

Hawkeye and Mockingbird get up close with their backs to the camera so they can whisper and make a plan.

Unfortunately, they can’t really think of a plan other than ‘try to resist brainwashing I guess?’

Mockingbird knows some SHIELD techniques and Hawkeye just promises he’ll try really hard to resist.

Hawkeye: “I really don’t want to hurt you. In the last couple days, I’ve actually kind of started, well, liking you.”

Aw.

Aww.

But Crossfire is a dick still and activates THE UNDERTAKER right after they kiss.

They try to resist but yeah that plan wasn’t a plan and wasn’t even a concept. They start fighting to the death. Ironically, Bobbi “I know SHIELD techniques” Morse throws the first kick while Hawkeye is still trying to resist.

And Mockingbird is a lot better at martial arts than Hawkeye whose muscle memory keeps tripping him up into using a bow that he doesn’t actually have.

This issue is a gift.

But yeah, Mockingbird beats the crap out of Hawkeye. Not that he doesn’t get some hits in. He even manages to surprise Crossfire who was heavily betting on Mockingbird to easily trounce his ass.

Also, during the fighting, Mockingbird manages to kick one of the cameras, jarring it so it points at the ceiling.

And then double kicks Hawkeye in the dick.

Oof.

Watching two people fight to the death, Oddball has a question. How long does the brainwashing sound effect last after being turned off?

Crossfire decides hey actually that’s an interesting thought and turns off the machine to see. Plus, for dick reasons, giving them a brief respite will “make their plight all the more poignant.”

What a dick.

The brainwashing ends almost as soon as the sound does and the two heroes stop beating the crap out of each other to be disgusted by what they were doing.

In desperation, Hawkeye finally comes up with a plan.

It’s not a good plan but he had only a couple seconds and its impressive that he has a plan at all in that brief period of lucidity.

Hawkeye huddles into the corner that the jarred camera no longer covers and goes through his spare (mispelled as space for some reason, shrug) arrowheads and finds a hypersonic arrowhead.

And if he puts the arrowhead in his mouth and activates it, it will be really loud and drown out the ultrasound! Also, shooting hypersonic frequencies INSIDE HIS SKULL will probably be bad for his hearing but what can ya do.

Crossfire reactivates THE UNDERTAKER and Hawkeye activates the mouth arrowhead with his tongue. Which feels like a “dull knife lacerating [his] brain” but at least he doesn’t want to murder all the time.

That’s something!

(Also, it’s a neat touch but the EEEEEE of the hypersonic arrowhead covers the NNNN of the ultrasonic signal. Good SFXing.)

With his wits about him, he can actually beat Mockingbird by using his strength advantage, closing in, and not letting her use her fancier jumpy techniques.

After beating the shit out of Mockingbird and feeling like shit for having to do it, Hawkeye tosses her to misalign another camera, and then feigns that he collapses from exhaustion.

Crossfire thinks that there’s no way that Hawkeye could play dead under the effect of the RAGE NOISE so he’s really down. He sends Oddball and Bombshell to retrieve the two heroes to examine.

While being carried like a potato sack, Hawkeye grabs one of Oddball’s odd balls and knocks out the juggler and then bonks Bombshell unconscious as well before she has a chance to react.

Then, he runs to get Crossfire before the guy has a chance to figure out what’s going on.

Except, Crossfire has cameras all over the dang place and knows what happened and decides that Hawkeye is such a resourceful, worthy foe that he deserves to die by irony.

(Hawkeye has no idea what the guy is saying because he can’t hear a thing after sticking a hypersonic arrowhead in his mouth)

Crossfire tries to kill Hawkeye with his own bow but whoops, remember when Hawkeye was flexing on that guy earlier about his bowstring having an absurd draw weight?

Yeah.

The dingus got irony’d by his own ploy at irony.

Hawkeye ties up Crossfire, grabs his bow and arrows because they make him happy, and runs back to check on Mockingbird.

Hawkeye: “Mockingbird -- ? You with me, sweetheart? We won. I beat them. Every last bloody oen of them. Mock -- ?” She’s not breathing. I - I killed her...!

Mockingbird: “Those tears for me, sport? Aw, shucks.”

Even beaten to hell, Mockingbird gonna sass.

And then they kiss. Which strikes me as... not a good time for it? Her face is all bruised up and she’s got a little blood going on. Ah, whatever.

Awww.

An hour later, the police show up to arrest Crossfire, Oddball, and Bombshell. Presumably Mockingbird called them as Clint still cannot hear a single thing.

Which is unfortunate because Mockingbird comes over to talk and Hawkeye is like ‘geez what is she saying right now? I hope it’s not important’ and decides to get out of the conversation ASAP before she finds out he’s gone deaf and gasp pities him!

Mockingbird: “Look, I’m not much of a joiner or anything. But I must admit that the two of us made one heckuva team. I was thinking... maybe we ought to become an item, you know what I mean? After all, you are one of the cutest --”

Hawkeye: “Yeah, well, see you around then.”

Hawkeye, you absolute fool.

THANKFULLY

Thankfully, Mockingbird isn’t the type to just go ‘wow what a jerk’ without going and ripping a person a new asshole, verbally.

So she did do that. She ran after Hawkeye and ripped him a new asshole, verbally, forced him to explain himself, probably rolled her eyes, and then dragged him to get a hearing aid.

And one week later, they’re married and relaxing in a heart-shaped tub!

Wow, they operate fast!

I mean, in fairness, we knew Hawkeye was like that. He’d known Sheila Danning for like a month before he was contemplating marriage. And we can assume Mockingbird was like that too considering she knew Hawkeye like a minute before waggling her eyebrows and insinuating sex at him.

Mockingbird: “You owe me, pal. Sure, you saved my life. But what I’m going to do to your life is more than just a one-shot deal. I’m not just talking about helping you get a hearing aid. Or the blood test, or the license, or even arranging for a quaint little cottage in the woods. I’m talking about the rest of your life, and the difference having me around is going to make in it. Maybe eloping was my idea, but I’m going to see to it that for the rest of your life, you believe that it was the best idea you didn’t quite hear.”

Hawkeye: “I hear you, Mrs. Hawkeye. I hear you.”

Awwww. They’re a cute couple. And I do like their chemistry.

So that was the Hawkeye limited series. And it was pretty good!

It introduces some lasting changes like ‘being deaf’ and ‘being married’ to the character. Of course, because comics, both of those things will come and go. And in some cases come back. Lets enjoy them while they last.

Next time on liveblogging: something a little different.

Follow @essential-avengers​ because I just covered a miniseries. And then I had to redo the fourth issue in just an hour because tumblr didn’t save it. Please reward me. Also, like and reblog if you’d like to reblog.

[marvella15]

Astaire & Rogers Rewatch Part 3: Roberta

• The Gay Divorcee was a smash hit, raking in almost $600k in profit for RKO during the Depression. It was also nominated for Best Picture. So then why are Astaire and Rogers not the headliners for Roberta? No clue. 

• As dumb as that decision was and is, in some ways, it makes their parts even more enjoyable. As the secondary pair, they don’t have to deal with misunderstandings and contrived plot devices keeping them apart or interfering with the development of their relationship. From the moment they’re on screen together, they’re a pair. 

• Their romance in Roberta is of two teenage sweethearts reuniting as adults and instantly falling back in step and in love with one another. The warmth and friendliness of their relationship, which I believe mirrors the true relationship between Astaire and Rogers in many ways, is one of the main reasons I adore this film. There are several scenes/moments where they seem to be themselves and it works perfectly.

• Our characters/actors: Huck (Fred Astaire), Lizzie (Ginger Rogers), John (Randolph Scott), Stephanie (Irene Dunne).

• Love their names in this film: Huck (short for Huckleberry) and Liz. A vast improvement, especially for Rogers who has so far been Honey and Mimi. 

• Of course for plot reasons Huck’s teenage sweetheart will be in the exact same place he ends up. But it’s worth noting that he requests for John to ask his aunt about Lizzie. He intends to look her up himself. 

• Could John be a himbo?? He’s handsome, kinda dumb, but very kind. 

• I like how Liz, in her alter ego as a Polish countess, continues throwing a tantrum even though John pushes her to the couch twice. Rogers doesn’t get enough credit for her slapstick abilities. She also somehow makes the word “orchestra” seem very suggestive.

• Love how Huck slides in towards the elevator in his hast to meet Lizzie again. She’s not mad to see him either, only worried he’ll blow her cover. Which he immediately almost does. 

• A snarky reunion: 

Liz, as the Countess: “Huck is for Huckleberry, n’est-ce pas?”

Huck: “Uhh yes, a couple of n’est-ce pas.”

• His face at being called a piccolo player is only bested by Liz’s barely concealed glee at Huck being demoted this way. In their first interaction, he calls her babe, toots, and playfully bites her hand and she puffs smoke right in his face. I love it. 

Not for nothing, later in the film he will also call John babe and toots. Huck is an equal opportunity complimenter. 

• Their relationship is established immediately as he celebrates her success and beauty. There’s no rivalry or obstacles between them, not even her stage name. While she is careful to remove her hand from between his when their private moment is interrupted, she doesn’t mind it being known she’s going off somewhere with him. 

• Irene Dunne has a fine singing voice but it’s just not what I came to this movie to hear. 

• Huck’s face as he watches Liz sing is adorable. Maybe a tad overdone but incredibly sweet. 

(gif credit @themaladjustedjester​)

• It’s a bit irritating that Rogers is forced to sing and speak in her fake Polish accent for most of the film but dang she does an amazing job with this song. It’s a full-body performance and she does it with gusto. 

• I adore the way Astaire tosses the baton over his shoulder as soon as she comes to sit with him. He’s just like, don’t need that anymore. 

• So cute as they reminisce about their younger years: 

Liz: “You know I think I was in love with you then, Huck.” 

Huck: “I know you were.”

Liz, mildly offended: “Youuuu.”

Huck: “Meeee. And what’s more, I was madly in love with you.”

• Their entire exchange is funny and wonderful. The teasing, the flirting, the declaration of past love for one another that is obviously still true. How he punctuates certain moments with a bit of tap for emphasis. They smile naturally and it feels like two friends talking. This could be AU Fred and Ginger’s real-life story and I would believe it. 

• Talking about how she won a beauty contest:

Liz: “Well, you won it for me. How did you get all the men from the overall factory to vote for me?”

Huck, very pleased with himself: “That was easy. I showed them a picture of Lillian Russell.”

Liz, incensed: “Lillian Russell? Well what was the matter with my picture?”

Huck: “Well if you must know, we got a lot of votes from the farmers with a picture of a prize heifer.”

Liz, about to playfully sock him: “Oh youuuu.”

• “I’ll Be Hard to Handle” is a special dance for many reasons including that the taps were not dubbed over later. Since they used the original sound, we can hear both Astaire and Rogers giggling and whooping throughout the dance. 

Usually, Astaire recorded the taps in post-production since the sound could not pick them up very well during filming. Hermes Pan, Astaire’s choreography partner, often recorded Rogers’ taps since she was typically off filming a different movie by then.

• Astaire often gets a lot of the credit for their dancing because he worked tirelessly on the choreography. Rogers was often away filming non-musical roles while he did this. She was in three other films in 1935 alone, in addition to both Roberta and Top Hat with Astaire. But she put in a lot of hard work too. While filming those other roles, she learned the choreography from Pan so when she showed up for the six weeks of rehearsal, she was prepared. 

• And somehow this number feels perfectly spontaneous. At the start, as he pulls her in, she looks at him flirtatiously and it’s not acting. She waits for him to come spin them around and of course it’s part of the choreography but it’s a lovely feeling of anticipation all the same. Several times they appear lost in their own world, dancing for one another. They also seem to be talking to one another quietly throughout most of the dance. Like before in their films, you can see the acting start and stop pretty clearly. 

• When one of them does a little extra dance, the other watches in true appreciation and delight. Again, not acting. Most instances where they make eye contact they look very pleased with themselves. This is the closest we’ll ever get to seeing what Astaire and Rogers were like in rehearsals, complete with the in-joke bugle call. 

• To understand better the moments of reality vs. acting, just look at the sequence where they challenge each other and argue using different dance steps. All acting. Then look at their faces immediately after this sequence ends and they enter the final moments of the dance. All them. 

Side note: don’t miss how Astaire claps his hands together to make the smacking noise when she slaps him.

• While watching a private fashion show, John and Huck dislike a gorgeous black satin gown that’s low cut and with an almost completely open back because they think it’s too revealing. But later Rogers is going to wear almost this same gown and will look marvelous in it during the “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” dance. 

• After selecting a new gown, Liz teases Huck that “tall, handsome gentleman with large bank accounts will be asking for my telephone number. And getting it.” He replies, “And won’t they be surprised when I answer?”

• Upon hearing that John’s terrible ex, who has just arrived to undump him now that he’s rich and famous, will be leaving on Saturday, Huck departs with this line: “Goodbye, John. I’ll see you Sunday.”

• Irene Dunne definitely enjoys her few seconds of being spun around with Astaire. But who wouldn’t?

• Huck’s line to Sophie, “Gee, darling, you look terrible,” is such a burn and I love it.

• Another thing I have a soft spot for is Astaire’s piano playing. It’s energetic and fun and he doesn’t do it nearly enough imo. 

• Astaire sings 3 songs (I’m not counting the fashion show “song”) in Roberta but they all have that very conversational style that suits him. And in fact both “I Won’t Dance” and “Lovely to Look At” are duets framed as a conversation with Rogers. My favorite part of “I Won’t Dance” is this exchange:

Astaire: “You know what? You’re lovely.”

Rogers: “And so what? I’m lovely.”

Astaire: “But oh what you do to me.”

• I also have to mention the little callback to “The Continental” as well as the strange rhyme of “for heaven rest us, I’m not asbestos”??

• Notice how this solo routine for Astaire is not interrupted by any cuts to his face or feet like previously solos? He got his way with the camera work.

• “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” is a lovely song that I don’t necessarily want Irene Dunne to sing, not when Ginger Rogers is in the same film. 

• Rogers’ acting when Huck talks rhetorically about wanting to marry Liz is fabulous. First, she has to be incensed at the mention of a “Liz” when publicly she’s still known as the Countess. Then she’s flustered that he’s just admitted he wants to marry her. And then she glares at him when he takes up the joke and describes his fiance-to-be as “simple” with “big feet.” And all of that happens in about three seconds. The way she sharply looks him up and down always makes me snicker.  

• This lengthy fashion show is something else I usually skip. Was there a line of gowns that were sold as movie tie-in merchandise? I highly doubt it. But why else is this so long??

• When Astaire sings the lyrics “and heaven to kiss,” his voice drops and Rogers glances at him. Huck and Liz have most certainly been kissing off screen. 

• Absolutely love how the lyrics of “Lovely to Look At” change for Astaire and Rogers. Instead of a “most impossible scheme come true, imagine finding a dream like you,” Rogers sings that he is her “most impossible dream come true, imagine finding a boy like you.” She takes his arm and on the lyrics “it’s thrilling to hold you terribly tight,” he squeezes her hand. 

• Their dance, set to “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes,” is slow and stunning, one of the most beautiful they created. It’s full of soft looks between them. Rogers spends most of the beginning gazing at him lovingly. Not to be outdone, Astaire does the same when she’s turned away or not looking at him. He also has a small, private smile soon after they begin. It’s lovely. 

• The duet is romantic and yet they don’t embrace fully until about a minute in. Instead, they hover near one another, faces angling together, small touches here and there. Holding fingertips for a particular move. His fingers briefly touch her ribs when she places his hand there for a beat. It’s a dance of deep partnership and love, not courtship. Neither needs to woo the other. 

• And when they do embrace, he holds her close for a prolonged moment before moving into the next step. As he does, that private smile sneaks out again. 

• The sudden dip is another example of Rogers trusting Astaire. She looks magnificent in the pose too. They both do.

• She lays her head on his shoulder, his hand resting gently on her hair, and her arm is around him. It’s a very intimate pose, made even more so by how he tilts his head towards her and his lips are very close to her brow. And there again, that smile. 

• When the music becomes playful, Rogers glances over her shoulder at him and finds his eyes are already on her. Both of their faces soften. 

• And ending a sumptuous dance with a backwards leap up three stairs. Super casual. They walk off the way they began, their arms linked. 

• Speaking of casual, Huck and Liz get engaged in the most laid back way ever. Perfect for them.

• I have always loved Stephanie’s expression when she realizes just how dumb (but sweet) John is. 

• The reprise of “I Won’t Dance” ends the film. Newly engaged but still in the same clothes they just performed a slow, romantic duet in, Astaire and Rogers perform a much more energetic dance. She makes her dress work for her superbly. The way they dance is very like “I’ll Be Hard to Handle,” which shows that this celebratory number is Huck and Liz, not the bandleader and the Countess performing for a crowd. And the choice of song is fitting since in the lyrics he said he couldn’t dance with her for fear he’d fall in love with her. But now they have danced quite intimately and they’re engaged. Might as well keeping dancing together. 

• Soooo another film finished! We’re getting into some of the best ones now. Up next: Top Hat.

• Also if fanfiction is your thing, here’s a very sweet one for this film. 

[myhopelessromanticworld]

gillyweed and firewhiskey|n.l.

hey y’all this is my first fic ever! it is posted on AO3 as well but i wanted to get more feedback on my writing so please let me know what you think! 

WARNINGS: underage drinking, fluff, might be a little ooc for neville?

WORD COUNT: 1,601

AO3 LINK: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27365782

PLAYLIST LINK: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2P1AM69WM9QMKwkfJjkrBP

He set his bag down on the grass and began rolling his jeans up towards his knees. After he slipped his shoes and socks off, he waded into the cold water of the muddy lake. The muck squished unpleasantly between his toes, but he ignored the feeling as he rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. He began shifting and digging out the soft, wet earth that made up the water’s edge, the plant wouldn’t be easy to find but he was determined to find the root before Harry’s next event in the tri-wizard tournament. Gillyweed was the only solution Neville and Harry could think of for the next task which would require being underwater for up to an hour. Neville quickly focused on finding the root and tuned out everything else as he examined every vegetation he pulled from the muddy bank. It wasn’t long before the boy heard footsteps approaching the bank he stood in, his head snapped up towards the intrusion and was relieved to see Harry smiling at him from beside his belongings.

“I see you started without me,” Harry mused. Neville released a nervous chuckle before he replied, “Gillyweed’s a bit tricky to find, figured we’d need all the time we could get to find it.” Harry nodded his head and set his bag down beside Neville’s before settling down against the trunk of an old, weathered tree. “I’m going to do some reading on a few alternative options we could explore if we can’t find the gillyweed,” as he spoke, Harry pulled a rather large book out of his bag. Neville hummed in response and continued searching for the seemingly elusive weed.

The boys worked tirelessly to find answers to Harry’s problem, the only noise being pages turning from Harry’s reading, water shifting around Neville’s calves, and the occasional disappointed murmur from the boy working in the water. As time passed, Neville realized his toes and fingers were going numb, his cheeks had also turned a delicate shade of pink and if he reached up and touched the flushed skin, his fingers would be shocked by the cold temperature. Neville pushed the thoughts of the cold air out of his head as he continued to rake his fingers through the wet dirt.

Neville was beginning to get discouraged when a small pop of green amongst the brown lake floor caught his eye. He delicately pulled the translucent green root from the soil and immediately lit up, “Harry! I’ve found gillyweed!” The boy jumped at Neville’s excited voice and a large grin broke out over his face, “Brilliant Neville! Do you think you’ll be able to find more?” Neville nodded excitedly, “Gillyweed grows in groups, and the roots look thick and healthy! I’ll just have to find the rest of the pods from this root.” Harry couldn’t help the small smile that lingered on his face as he watched his tall friend bend back down and began searching for more gillyweed. He didn’t express it very often, but Harry thought herbology was good for Neville - having a knack for the subject made Neville more confident and happy. Harry chuckled to himself quietly before going back to the rather boring book Hermione had given him about water-related magic.

Neville excitedly continued his search but was quickly interrupted when laughter filled the air coming from just over the small hill that led to the embankment. Both boys looked in the direction of the melodic noise. To their reliefs, three familiar faces popped over the crest of the hill; Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Y/N. Luna waved excitedly to the boys, “Hello!” Harry smiled in response and Neville lifted a long arm above his head and waved back.

“What are you three doing here?” Ginny snorted in response and quickly shot back, “What? You’re not happy to see us Harry?”

Y/N quickly tuned out her bickering friends and walked to the edge of the water where Neville had dug out more gillyweed. “Aren’t you cold?” His head snapped up at the sound of her voice so close to him. Neville felt as though time had slowed down as he gaped at the object of his affections. Ever since they had met in Diagon Alley before the school year, Neville found himself thinking often of Y/N. He wasn’t sure what about the girl made him so flustered, but he was sure if he thought about it too long he’d get lightheaded. “Neville? You okay?” Time returned to its normal speed as he took in the girl's slightly concerned face, “Yeah, sorry. It’s not as cold as it looks,” he spoke with a slight nervous chuckle in his voice. The girl smiled and opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Ginny calling her and Neville over. Y/N let out a small chuckle and waited for Neville to step out of the water before they walked over to the group. Y/N sat between Luna and Ginny who began whispering to her in hushed tones.

Neville sat next to Harry and handed the bespectacled boy the gillyweed he had collected. “Will it be enough?,” Harry asked anxiously. “I’ll have to measure out the right amount based on your weight, but it should be more than enough for an hour!” Harry opened his mouth to thank him, but was cut off by Ginny clearing her throat.

“Alright boys, the counsel has deliberated and we’ve decided to include you lucky lads in our fun!” The boys’ faces scrunched up in confusion as Ginny began digging through her bag. Their confusion morphed into surprise when Ginny revealed two bottles of firewhiskey to the group. The redhead snickered at the boys’ reactions, “So… are you guys down?” Harry chuckled, “Sure, where’d you get that?” Ginny chuckled as well before answering, “I stole it from the twins’ stash. It’s not like they can tell on me… So Neville, you in?” They all looked over to the apprehensive boy who had been fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater. At the sound of his voice Neville had looked up to find everyone already staring back at him. He scanned their faces before he stopped on Y/N’s. She gave him a reassuring smile and before he could stop himself, “Yeah, I’m in.” Everyone whooped and with Neville’s agreement, Ginny cracked the first bottle of firewhiskey, took a deep pull and passed the bottle off to Luna.

Neville was practically shaking when the bottle was passed to him as he had never drank alcohol before. He took a deep breath and quickly gulped down some of the firewhiskey - the burn was unpleasant but he liked how it seemed to warm him from the inside. They all sat like that for a while; passing the bottle, complaining about teachers and parents, laughing with and at one another.

As the sun began to set, Y/N had found it harder and harder to keep her eyes off the taller of the two boys. As it turns out, Neville was quite the giggly drunk. In Y/N’s eyes, he looked angelic - face scrunched up in uncontrollable laughter, cheeks glowing deep red from the firewhiskey, the setting sun behind him turned his hair into a halo of golden brown locks. Seeing him so happy and carefree made Y/N’s heart clench in her chest. There was something indescribable about him that drew her in like a moth to a flame. She wanted to bask in all his glow. Y/N got so lost in the sight in front of her that when Neville looked over to her she couldn’t look away, so she smiled at him, hoping he would understand how she felt from her face alone. Neville’s face grew even more red and he returned the smile. However, neither moved to look away, they both wanted to soak in the other’s light, and they did, until Ginny announced they should make their way back to the dorms. As they walked back it was agreed upon that they should skip dinner and go to bed early, seeing as they were all drunk.

All five entered the Gryffindor common room only to find it empty as everyone was at dinner. Y/N and Neville found themselves lingering in the middle of the room as everyone said their goodnights. Luna and Ginny giggled as they walked up the staircase to the girls’ dorms and Harry swayed lightly as he walked up to his dorm. And just like that, Y/N and Neville found themselves utterly alone in the middle of the common room. Neville broke the deafening silence first, “I had a lot of fun,” Y/N chuckled, “I’m glad! I did too, I really like hanging out with you…” Neville felt his face heating up to match the blush Y/N was sporting. As he opened his mouth to tell her how much he enjoyed her company, the door to the common room was flung open and voices filled the once silent space. Y/N gave him a small smile, “Goodnight, Neville…” he returned the smile before quietly speaking up, “Goodnight, Y/N…” Their eyes lingered a little longer than considered friendly before going to their respective dorms.

As Neville lay in bed listening to Harry’s light snores he couldn’t help but think of Y/N. A large smile spread over his face as he began to drift into slumber. A smile much like the one on Y/N’s face as she stared up at the ceiling while laying under the covers, thinking of a certain plant-loving boy.

[mallowstep]

when all the leaves change in the fall — research masterpost

so i’m writing a human au set somewhere in the 1910s in ireland (really, around 1905-1914ish), and i just needed to throw all of my links and such into one place.

it’s…not a heatherlion fic, but it’s not not a heatherlion fic

anyway, well, you’ll see. if you want to read this.

census data (introduction)

so i was able to find the census data for 1911 in ireland. those of you who are up to date on your irish history (pun intended) may be aware that in the nineteenth century, england “unionized” with ireland.

i can’t believe i’m saying this on a fucking warrior cats blog, but we’re not doing irish history discourse. it’s a complex issue. i come from a family of irish catholics. draw your own conclusions.

anyway.

there’s a lot of important and relevant history that i’m skipping over because this post is supposed to be for me, and you’re not here to read irish history, but basically: there’s a 1851 census and a 1901 census, and nothing in between.

in short, it’s quite lucky i have the census data for the time i need.

since i was able to find this (and i gotta say, it wasn’t easy, like, usually i’m like, “research is just a thing i do” but it was surprisingly difficult to find), and like most national archives it’s…not to be rude, but the site is ugly.

but here’s the home page for the data, with helpful other links including a tram timetable. (and yes, that is very exciting. if you’ve ever written historical fiction, you know how exciting that is. if not, welcome to my descent.)

i was originally focusing on individual names, but i have to name the whole family, and i have all the data, so let us begin.

irish history (short version)

jk you do need a bit of knowledge to understand my decisions.

if you don’t know, the 1850s is approximately the great potato famine. if you don’t know anything about it: it’s worse than you imagine. extra credits did a good series a while back.

england’s rule over ireland will lead into the troubles, a religious conflict that wasn’t…well, okay! let’s just say, it’s like, a joke that you don’t want to talk about it because people feel strongly about it. hopefully, most of you don’t. i do, but i’m being not biased, okay?

anyway, feature history did a two part series if you want to get caught up.

finally, you may ask, matthew, why the heck are you writing about such a weirdly specific time in history? to which i say: well, i wanted to have a religious conflict between heather and lion’s families, in such a way that it would make sense for them to grow up and realize they couldn’t be friends.

my mother’s family is irish and my dad spent a lot of time in northern ireland when i was a toddler, so naturally, it was just a thing i knew about. to the point where it had an impact over my name. it’s a long story that i’m not telling here.

anyway, when i think religious conflict that spirals into a real, violent conflict, i think: catholics and protestants in ireland. it’s far from the only example, but it’s one i know a lot about.

so why, then, am i starting in the 1910s? well…i need heather and lion to be friends growing up, and there’s a particular crisis leading up to world war one that makes 1914 a good date for this fic to cover.

also, i like this era of historical fashion.

alright, now that we’re all on the same page, i can get into what i actually want to talk about.

lion’s family

so now that i have my census data, i was able to actually look through specific families to name people after. that’s right, i’m…at the point in my life where i researched specific families and counties to name my human au warriors after.

this is why? i never talk about the…i think now 3? human aus in the work. like, i can’t say, “okay, there’s holly in this one” because like, her name might be holly in one and minnie in another, you don’t know!

anyway, i searched by head of family, under the following criteria:

church of england

can read and write

married

english (language)

3 living children

and then paged through every result to get just those with (at least) 2 sons and 1 daughter.

that gave me fourteen families. i saved all of them to a one tab list in case my first choice didn’t work out.

my first choice being the harris family.

i had a lot of good choices (one family with a daughter named violet was particularly tempting), and another with a son william and a daughter annie mary, but i liked the harris family just…in my gut.

that gives us:

bramble: joseph henry

squirrel: henrietta

jay: joseph henry

holly: henrietta lillian

lion: ian roy

which, well, i hope you can see why i chose them, even though this is a lionblaze centric fic and they don’t have an l in there.

great! am i going to backfill past this? not unless i need to, which is the point of me making this well documented research. i’m going to go through some of the other families at the end to find a leafpool name, because we do need her.

heather’s family

next up! we need a family of catholics in the same general area as the harris family.

so, back to the search.

i was able to narrow it down to the same street as lion, which is great.

honestly, the weirdness of this does not escape me. sue me, it’s warriors fanfic, i like researching. i could do this and just stitch together several families, or something, i don’t know. there’s something appealing to me in knowing that i have done my due diligence.

anyway, we’re again searching by head of household, and:

roman catholic

married

irish and english (language)

1 living child

cork (county)

fermoy urban (ded)

king street (townland/street)

and i again went through and kept only families with at least one daughter. or really, a wife, husband, and other female person in the house.

you can view that list here.

the flanagans were the clear winner here, with their singular daughter named hannah. (parents: john and mary.)

breezepelt’s family

and after that we’re still not done because i need crow, night, and breeze.

i’m searching with the same criteria, this time, though, i’m only keeping families with at least one son.

while i’m doing this, shout out to paddy patrick for being a real person.

here’s my full choice list. this time, i want to match crow’s name more than breezepelt’s, because there aren’t a lot (if any) b names. nightcloud would be nice, too.

i had a tough choice to make here, because there was a norah & john, and a cornelius & catherine. (couldn’t i just combine them? you’re missing the point. this is fun, i’m having fun.)

i ended up going with the cotters, because i preferred james for breezepelt.

this gives us

crow: john

night: norah

breeze: james

are you having fun with two johns? i sure am.

also worth pointing out is that people aren’t actually on the same street. i’m not searching with exact match on. they are all still in the same county, and that’s good enough.

extraneous

i have more than enough names to name any character i need, but some character names i may need.

leaf: looking for single, church of england, women. we’ll be using irene may key

fire & sand: just to fill in where leaf left off, thomas james & alice elizabeth, respectively.

cinder: had to remove the church of england restriction to find her, and then i had too many choices (i’m not paging through like 100 people, okay?), so i decided to search under injury “other,” just to narrow down the options. i chose sarah hanan, who also lives with her brother (nice touch).

and at this point i decided i had more than enough names and the ability to hunt down more whenever i needed them if they came up.

other stuff

i was going to do more than names but then i got tired whoops. it’s like, almost 1 am i’ve been doing this for like an hour.

anyway, that’s fine bc i know a lot about the other stuff i was going to talk about and now you know! i’ve done a bunch of families because that’s how much i care about accuracy.

[chloe-clegane]

Rayllum Birthday Bash - Travel: It was a very stressful situation

Ok! Posting this.... basically right at midnight... ADHD time management skills activate- oh whoops forgot to put in the batteries...

Some more good humored smut for your enjoyment ;)  (see the read more)

--------------------------

Callum and Rayla were making their way through Del Bar, riding on the long road to the city of Serpentongue. Around five o’clock, they reached an inn. Rayla thought they should stop and stay for the night, that the storm clouds were sweeping in and it would be better to lose a few hours of daylight and sleep in a bed, than to go out and risk shivering in the rain. Callum pointed out on the map that there was another inn not much further away and that his connection to the sky arcanum told him the storm wouldn't reach them. Generally Rayla trusted his magic, so she reluctantly agreed.

Cold in the rain was what they were. The storm direction had unfortunately changed, and at the halfway point to the next inn, it began raining in torrents around them. They had no real choice but to keep going and make it to shelter. Initially Rayla was annoyed, but was looked forward to the hot bath and warm bed that laid ahead of them. But when they were mere miles from the next inn, they found that the heavy rain had flooded and completely blocked the road.

First Callum had tried to block the river of water with ice but it simply diverted it and had knocked Rayla off her feet. Which resulted in some very foul language on her part. Second she proposed that he simply fly them over it, he pointed out that would not include the horses and Rayla has to  concede. If they left the poor creatures alone and frightened in a thunderstorm, they could get loose, hurt themselves or worse. Next Rayla suggested Callum fly her over, she could tie and hold a line, and then he could then guide the horses over. He pointed out that he couldn’t manage two horses, that they would need to do it together. She refused, for the obvious reason that rushing water was terrifying. Callum didn’t think that was fair to make him do all the work, and without her it was completely impractical. 

As they bickered, Callum attempted to hold a magic sky bubble up above them. But every time he got frustrated and lost focus, a sheet of cold water would crashed down on their heads. So the previous idea was discarded as well as the next three. Eventually the argument was simply where to take shelter, which became another struggle of wills

Callum explained he had seen some dense trees not too far back. They would shield them from the wind and rain and keep them close to the road. Rayla told him that was a terrible idea because they could still end up flooded. He argued that this is the real world and you can’t always find some conveniently located cave everywhere you go so she was being unrealistic. Rayla won out on that one. It was a bit of a trek off the road but she found a rocky overhang that was elevated enough to be considered high ground. Callum not so passive-aggressively pointed out it still wasn’t a cave.

After trying for a considerable amount of time, Rayla had given up on lighting a fire on the damp mossy ground. She was shivering in the tent with her knees pulled to her chest and left a no man’s land between her and Callum. She was cold and grumpy and mourning the comfortable evening she could've been having. 

“You know, I really couldn't have known-” Callum started.

“No,” she interrupted and held a hand out to silence him. 

“Well, I just don’t think it-” he was apologetic but she cut him off again anyways.

“Don't. Just don’t. Callum, I’m mad at you, and nothin’ yer gunna say right now is goin’ tae change that. You just had to insist this road and that pathway and skipping this this to get us there faster,” she said the last part in a more mocking version of her human voice.

“Ok, ok…” he waited a beat and she shivered. “I really am sorry Rayla. Can I at least hold you and keep you warm?” 

She was resolute, she would stay mad... but she couldn’t help thing, he would be warm, she would be cozy. Her angry scrunched face faltered. “Fine.”

Callum smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and wrapped the blanket around them both. Rayla continued to scowl even as the feeling returned to her cold fingers.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Callum rested his chin on one of her horns.

“Would stoppin’ fer a break really have been so terrible?” she muttered.

He sighed, “No, it wouldn’t have. I’m sorry we didn’t just stayed where we were.” 

“You said you didn’t sense the storm coming,” she exhaled letting some of her petulant anger leave with it, “It’s not exactly fair of me tae hold acts of nature against you,” she was reluctantly reasonable. “So I guesss I don’ hate you.”

“Well thanks for that. I would hate it if you hated me,” he kissed her head and chuckled. “I think we can both agree this has been a very stressful situation.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” she rolled her eyes but smiled.

She was twisted in his arms with her ear on his chest and it was getting uncomfortable. Rayla re-settled herself to sit facing forward and lean her head back on his shoulder, as to avoid poking him in the eye. While she did that she brushed against him and realized something started hardening against her back side. 

“Callum...” she sighed, “Is that yer pecker I’m feelin’?”

“Psh wha…? Maybe…” he confessed.

She groaned. “Right now? Really?”

“Hey, you know I can’t fully control these things, maybe if you weren’t so beautiful and amazing this wouldn’t happen,” he shrugged sarcastically. 

“Mmmmhmmm,” Rayla rolled her eyes and they sat quietly for a few more beats until she started to shiver again.

“You know… there’s a better way to stay really warm.” 

Rayla had to admit to herself, she had intended to coax him into her bath and to take him for herself in the bed at that inn. The excitement hadn’t entirely gone away. But no. She was still cross with him. Nope, stop it, she scolded herself.

She leaned back and ground against him, she felt his breathing hitch and she knew he was grinning. Rayla shifted her hips again and he hummed, and again. He was harder now, stiffened into what she knew was a fully erection. He kissed her neck and she pressed herself harder this time. 

He reached around her and brushed lightly between the legs she shivered.

“This ok?” he muttered against her neck.

“Yeeeeaaah it’s ok,” she sighed and nuzzled against him.

After a few she more grinds against him and and gentle fondles above her clothing, they both moaned softly. Then he very deliberately rubbed his fingers along her folds. Even above her clothes he was able to rub between them. 

He did it again and it built radiating need between her legs. She ground against him again but it became more of an uncontrolled jerk. 

“Callum,” she whined.

“Callum what?” he asked and he knew he was smirking. Sometimes he could be so cocky when he knew he was rendering her helpless. He wanted her to say it. 

“Don’t tease, touch me,” she moaned.

She could feel him smiling against her shoulder as he fiddled with her clothing. His hand was in her panties touching her bare skin and a whiny hum escaped her lips. He ran his finger along her like he’d done before, but this time he’d barely parted the folds when his finger slipped right in between them. His light teasing touches had left her wet and slick. He chuckled. She was feeling too nice to want to sass him. He touched her, rubbing the inner folds and circling around her opening before dipping his fingers into the wet slippery depths. She was humming and had completely forgotten about grinding against him. Occasionally, he pushed her to him and rolled his own hips. Then he moved his attention up to the ready little bundle of nerves and she inhaled sharply. After a few strokes and gasps, she felt the hot longing throb in her belly and down her legs. She knew what she wanted. 

“Could you, er, I was-“ Rayla stuttered.

“What do you want?” he asked sweetly against her neck before placing a few more languid kisses along her shoulder. “It’s okay, I want to know.” 

She felt herself shutter at his words. It was so mushy and stupid that sometimes it was his words and his tenderness alone that could make her melt. 

“Please, Rayla,” he rubbed circles around her opening and she hummed.

“Your mouth, I-I want you to use your mouth.” The last word was a soft gasp and he chuckled softly in response. 

“I’d love to,” he breathed and kissed her neck a few more times. She loved when he did that.

Rayla moved to get up and reposition, but he stopped her. “I’ll move, you just… relax.” He scooted himself out from behind her. He, bless his human heart, tried to smoothly move around her. Instead, he stumbled clumsily and knocked into her. Rayla giggled. 

“Sorry, agh, sorry,” he mumbled. “That was supposed to be sexy.” Rayla reached for his face, kissed him and brushed the hair from his eyes.

“Still sexy to me. Dorky, but also sexy,” she kissed him again. Slipping her tongue into his mouth and rolling it round with his, staying like that for a moment as she slid her hands down his chest and quickly unbuttoned his pants.

He pulled away. “Wait, I want to, you know, you first,” he smiled and his emerald green eyes made her weak. But she chuckled.

“I can still undress ye can’t I?” She smirked. 

“Hmmmm, I’ll allow it… this time,” his eyes narrowed in unconvincing seriousness before winking.

The couple giggled, kissed and fondled as they undressed each other. Rayla was impressed by the warmth they radiated together. She no longer felt the cold and the wet that lingered outside the tent, just the soft, salacious warmth of his skin on hers. The intimate caresses and passionate kisses were simmering her insides and filling her with need. When he pulled away she wanted to reach for him but he gently rolled to the side and he gently guided her down and back onto the pillow. Callum kissed her lips one more time before he started to trail them down. Callum pulled the blanket over himself and kissed down her stomach. With anticipation, the simmer became a throb between her legs. 

Then he licked her. 

He licked her and she cried out loud and involuntarily. A little too loudly. Red-faced Rayla slapped her hand over her mouth.

“Wow already?” Callum laughed, muffled under the blanket. 

“Shut up,” she groaned from beneath her hand and could feel the heat of the blush across her face.

He flipped up the blanket enough to look at her and gently stroked one of her legs. “I love you Rayla,” he smiled and sweetly kissed her inner thigh. His stupidly cute face turned her into chocolate that had been left in the sun too long. 

“For the record I like when you’re loud,” then he nuzzled his cheek against the inside of her thigh. How can he be this cute? She loved him and she needed the talking to stop. 

“Don’t feel like you can’t-“ he was encouraging, but she interrupted.

“I love you too Callum and I’ll be as loud as ye want just pleeeaase stop stopping and put yer mouth on mah cunny!” It was a plea and an order. It left her lips impulsively and Rayla smacked both hands on her face when she realized what she’d said. 

But before she could curl up into embarrassment Callum said simply, “Yes ma’am,” and immediately plunged his mouth into her with no hesitation. 

Rayla gasped and gripped the blanket beneath them. The sudden sensation left her reeling. Callum had gone to work licking around the inner folds of her labia and flicking her clitoris. Rayla was moaning as tension and heat built in her core igniting her body and forming beads of sweat on her brow. He drew circles around her opening before shifting back to her clitoris, sucking gently this time. 

For such a clumsy human, he had an incredibly nimble tongue. Rayla wound her fingers in his hair as her legs began to twitch. Her low humming turned into panting gasps. “Callum, oh oh...” 

He flicked faster and the tension released sending waves of heat down into her limbs. She cried out, the sound was gasping and guttural and it emptied her lungs. 

Rayla layed there, panting. Callum kissed a trail all the way back up to her neck and forehead as she tried to catch her breath. 

“I love you,” she said in a breathy chuckle. He had laid down and reached for his discarded shirt and wiped his mouth with it. “I love you too,” he kissed her on the lips this time. “You know, I couldn’t tell if you enjoyed that, was that okay?” he smirked and she jabbed him in the ribs playfully tickling him. He giggled and snort-laughed before pulling her part way onto his chest. 

“I guuuueeeeess it was okay,” Rayla smirked.  

“You know, you really are cute when you’re loud,” grinning as he blooped her nose.

She giggled and buried her face and replied with an mmhmm before leaving lazy kisses on his chest. He held her close, intimately and steadfast as she laid there quietly drawing circles across his skin with her fingertips. Rayla basked in the afterglow of her orgasm as his fingers combed through her hair. There was a sense of calm serenity within the walls of their tent, somehow silencing the tempest outside it. 

Eventually Rayla broke the silence, “Hey, Callum?” 

“Yeah?” he replied sweetly as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“I was just thinkin’, couldn’t you have just used the air bubble water deverty thingy you used on the rain... on the ground, and we could’ve just walked through the river?” she asked in genuine curiosity.

This time it was Callum who smacked his forehead and howled his frustration into the night. “Aaaghh.”

“It was a stressful situation,” she repeated his earlier sentiment with a sigh and  a supportive pat pat on his chest.

[plaidbooks]

Everyone Deserves Love chapter 7 part 1

A/N: So, this chapter got a little bit away from me. And instead of posting all 14k words in one part, I’m splitting it into two parts (I’ll post part 2 tomorrow, though, instead of making you wait a week!) This first part is a lot of tension and even more angst! Their first real fight! And a cliffhanger? Wowza! I also got to make up a lot of Barba’s background in this chapter, so bear with me. Little bit of Spanish that’s also translated right then. According to my friend, Adrian, there’s no “direct translation for motherfucker into Spanish which is why it’s that long.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: mentions of cheating, minor character death, screaming/yelling

Words: 7k+

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

Office of Rafael Barba

1 Hogan Place

Thursday, April 30th. 10:05am

Ever since the night they read about Marco Sorrel, Devon had pushed to train Barba harder in his self-defense training, especially with weapons. For the past three weeks, she taught him to disarm an assailant armed with first a knife—still sheathed—and then her gun, safety on. Barba hadn’t seemed too thrilled about the idea but agreed that it was necessary. And while Devon had to admit that he was pretty good in the training, that meant nothing when it came to the real thing. She had met many an agent who had excelled in training, and then froze in the field, leading to injuries or worse. Plus, the fact that it had been three weeks with no signs of any Aces made Devon uneasy. Very uneasy. She was sleeping less and less, hardly eating, and jumping at every sound. Barba, being his normal, collected self, didn’t seem disturbed by the news; he simply went about his day, doing arraignments, trials, meetings, and whatever the hell else he had to do. Which was a good thing, Devon supposed; it would make her job harder if they were both anxious.

Today was one of those days that was going to drag on forever, Devon knew. They had gotten to the courthouse early, skipping Barba’s office entirely, doing arraignments until almost noon. They then made it to his office for an early lunch, knowing that Barba would be in court for the rest of the day. Not that Devon was complaining; being stuck in the courtroom wasn’t all that bad, even though Barba had mentioned how boring it must be to sit in the gallery all day. But in all honesty, it was a nice break for Devon. She was still aware of people coming in and out, of course, but for the most part, once a trial started, everyone settled in. She didn’t have to worry too much about an attack once in court. And only once had a defendant gotten out of hand. But once he started shouting, the bailiff was on him, dragging him out, before Devon had fully blocked off his path to Barba. She knew he wasn’t in the Aces, but she was still going to protect the man.

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. It is pretty personal,” Barba commented, bringing Devon’s mind back to the present. They were just finishing lunch in his office, relaxing before the rush to court. She suddenly realized that he had asked her a question.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking about stuff. What’d you ask?”

 Barba sighed. “We were talking about, uh, past relationships. I asked how your last relationship ended.” Devon remembered now; they were talking about some cases that they both did with SVU, just a walk down memory lane over food. Barba had brought up the Muñoz case, which led to him talking about Yelina. Devon could tell by how his face softened when he spoke of her that she held a special place in his heart. After asking he agreed that yes, while he had flings and relationships since, Yelina was his first true love. After she left him for his best friend, he had found a couple other partners, but none that had gotten as close to him as her. “You always remember your first,” he had said.

Devon smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Does she lie to him? Tell him that she’s had a couple relationships and leave it at that? “I’ve, um…I’ve never really been in a relationship, per se.”

Barba put down his takeout container at that, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? I thought guys would be all over you.”

She laughed his comment away, flattered. “I mean, don’t get me wrong; I’ve been, uh, intimate with people before,”—her face flushed. Why was she telling him this?—“but I’m just not the, uh, relationship type, I guess.” Why were they talking about this again? Though, she knew if she wanted to stop, she’d only have to say so. But she was curious about Barba; he was a very private man. She was interested—and a wee bit excited—that he even wanted to open up about this side of him. If that meant that she had to do the same, then so be it.

After a few moments of silence, Barba thinking through his words, he finally asked, “but haven’t you ever wanted to come home to someone?” It was an innocent enough question, but it filled Devon with such a strong sense of yearning. Of course, she did. Who didn’t want someone who would understand them, who would love them unconditionally?

“I mean, it would be nice, yes,” she kept her voice even, neutral. “But I don’t have the time, not with my job. Plus, how would someone react to something like this?” she gestured broadly. “I was out of the state for three years, then home for a week before moving in with a complete stranger, a man…no offense—”

“None taken—”

“--so, how would dating even work when I’m not even home or when I’m sleeping at someone else’s house?” Devon finished, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. She didn’t mean to get so emotional, so personal with the answer. But she was trying to make him understand.

He thought for a while, stabbing at his chicken. “I guess it would be tough with a job like that.” He took a piece out, chewed thoughtfully. “My last relationship ended because I was never home. I put my work first, so she found her home in someone else’s bed.”

Devon sat there, dumbfounded. Someone cheated on him? “What a bitch,” she mumbled. He stifled a chuckle and Devon realized she said that out loud. “Whoops,” she said, hand flying to her mouth. “Sorry.”

 “Don’t be. That was years ago; I’ve moved on,” he replied. Then, “The hardest part was returning the engagement ring.”

Devon’s heart hurt for the man. She couldn’t imagine being so in love, planning on being married to someone, and then to find out they were cheating. She couldn’t think of anything to say; she didn’t think saying sorry would help, but she didn’t want to ask any more probing questions.

“Do you ever plan on getting married?” Barba asked, staring at the desk.

The question caught Devon off-guard; she never really thought about it before. Maybe when she was a kid, as a last-ditch effort to escape her parents. But not anytime recently. “I’m not sure, really. I’ve never considered it…maybe if I met the right person, though I think I’d like to retire before hand. And I could not imagine having a wedding—too expensive. And rings are so old-fashioned and over-rated; have you seen the new movement of people proposing with beautiful, intricate knives?” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t stop herself. Barba, to his credit, looked up from the desk, smiling and laughing at Devon’s increasingly ridiculous marriage proposals, awkwardness and past pain soon forgotten.

“Mr. Barba?” Carmen said, sticking her head into his office, causing them both to stop their frivolous talk. “Mr. Thompson and Mr. Buchanan are here to see you.”

“There goes the fun,” Barba mumbled. Devon grinned, but moved to stand behind him, bodyguard-style, her normal place by his side.

Courthouse

Thursday, April 30th. 7:08pm

Court had lasted much longer than either of them had thought; the Judge was intent on finishing the trial today, letting tomorrow morning be for closing arguments and then letting the jury deliberate.

“I need to head back to my office; I forgot a file,” Barba had said as he gathered his things. Odd, Barba never forgot anything; man’s head was a steel trap.

 “No problem. I got nowhere to be tonight. You know that we’re still training, though, right? Staying here late doesn’t get you out of it.”

Barba sighed. As much as he knew training was important, his body was still sore from where she hit him, blocking an attack, the night before. “Yeah, I know.”

“Don’t worry; this will all be over soon enough,” Devon commented. It was true; during the trial, Devon’s phone had gone off with an update text from Olivia. 47 Aces were now sitting in jail. 18 reported left, though 5 of those 18 were reportedly no longer in New York. Once they learned that most of the police force were after them, they had picked up and left. So, in reality, unlucky 13 were left active in New York…including Marco Sorrel, who no one seemed able to pinpoint. If Devon was free to move throughout the city, she knew she could track him down. But she had to trust in the NYPD’s abilities.

 Barba was elated at the news—not having to worry about being shot was a weight off his shoulders—but at the same time, he felt upset at the thought of Devon moving out, moving on with her life. He had grown accustomed to her being there; her laugh, her banter, her presence. He didn’t know if they would remain in contact after this was over. He realized that he didn’t want to lose her. And after their talk this morning, he felt…no, he didn’t want to admit it, not to himself, or to anyone else.

They made it to the courthouse elevator, no one else in sight, and started going down to the ground floor. Barba made up his mind; he had to ask, to know if there was any chance of them having…something after the Aces were in jail. “You know, about that…I mean, after this is all over….” Barba started. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped off, Devon first and Barba right on her heels. The words died in his throat as he felt someone grab him roughly from behind, the cold steel of a gun pushing against his head.

Devon had heard his case fall from his hands, turned and had her gun up, aiming right over Barba’s shoulder before her brain had a chance to catch up. How’d I miss him? she thought, chiding herself. Then, her mind went blank, instincts and training kicking in, no room for any other thoughts. The elevator doors closed behind them, effectively pinning Barba and the man against the wall, facing Devon. Devon locked eyes with the man, ignoring Barba’s frightened look, and for a moment she was in a brownstone, looking at Nathan Woods. But she blinked again, and it was a Hispanic man, gun to Barba’s head, tattoo on his neck.

“Drop your gun, or I splatter this bastard’s brains all over the hallway,” Marco Sorrel said. She could feel Barba’s eyes on her, but she stayed focused on Marco, watching his trigger finger, pushing down the panic that was making her heart race.

“Counteroffer; you drop your gun or you’re dead before you pull the trigger,” Devon replied. She held her gun steady despite her rapid pulse, and started shifting her position slowly to the side, taking such small steps, she hoped Marco didn’t notice. This could end one of two ways, and she was deciding how best to approach it.

“Look, la loca es la primera (crazy bitch), I’m not afraid to die. But I’m taking this el cara e verga es el segundo (motherfucker) with me,” he dropped his voice, talking into Barba’s ear, barely loud enough for Devon to hear, “I hope you’ve made peace with whatever God you believe in.”

Devon felt the floor drop out from under her; she made up her mind in that moment. She took another step to the left, gaining a clear shot. She took it, squeezing the trigger. It was like watching a scene in slow motion. One moment, Marco had a gun to Barba’s head. Barba looked terrified, frozen in place. Then, a hole appeared between Marco’s eyes; his head snapped back and red splattered the elevator doors. His body hit the doors, and he slid down until he was slumped against them, gun clattering to the floor. Barba had ducked from the loud gunshot; he stood slowly, shakily, and turned to look at him while Devon slowly lowered her gun. She holstered it, putting the safety on—she knew she’d be turning it over tonight.

People started showing up then; Devon wasn’t sure where they were coming from. But they must have heard the gunshot, the hallways and curved ceiling making a perfect echo chamber. She stepped up to Barba, who was still looking at Marco’s dead body. She reached a hand out to him, saw her hand shaking slightly, clenched it into a fist and dropped it.

“Hey, are you alright? Are you hurt?” she asked, voice surprisingly steady for how shaky she was feeling.

Barba couldn’t take his eyes off the dead man, his face a little green. “You—you killed him. You just murdered a man.” He had whispered it, so matter-of-factly, voice dead.

The tone he had—or lack thereof--hit Devon like a physical blow. She reached out, hand not shaking this time, and took his hand, leading him a little down the hallway, putting the body behind him so that he was forced to look at Devon. That was almost worse; he looked rattled, shaking slightly, his green eyes wide. He yanked his hand out of her grip as if she had stung him.

“Uh, yes, I did…. You heard him; he was going to kill you in the next moment. I saw my shot and I took it; it was a good shoot,” she explained.

Barba had seen dead bodies in the morgue and in autopsy pictures before, but he had never seen someone killed, been close enough to feel the man’s weight fall off him. To fear, even for one moment, that he was the one who was shot. It felt like his brain was moving through sludge; he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. It all had happened so fast; it was amazing how quick, how easy it was to kill someone.

“Police are taught to de-escalate a situation. You’re a damn negotiator, for fuck’s sake! You didn’t have to kill him.” Barba didn’t know where this anger came from, but it was a familiar emotion. He knew anger, so he wrapped himself in it like armor, let it protect his frazzled mind.

The rational side of Devon’s mind knew that this was simply a reaction to shock; when she was in the same situation 4 years ago, her reaction was to shut down. But anger, she knew, was also a very normal reaction to shock. Sadly, another reaction to someone yelling is to go on the defensive. And with all of her senses heightened, adrenaline coursing through her, that’s exactly what Devon did, replying, “yeah, I am a negotiator! And I know when a negotiation doesn’t work; I’ve seen enough hostages killed to know what it looks like. I was not going to let that happen to you.”

“He didn’t have to die, though! You know how to disarm perps!” he shot right back.

Devon shook her head, ran her hand through her hair in frustration. “I had no options, Barba. I hesitate, and you die! I shoot the hand with the gun, and there’s a damn good chance I hit you. Like I said, I saw my shot and I took it. Do I wish I didn’t have to kill him? Of course! But I will not apologize for doing my job.”

“That’s not good enough!” Barba yelled.

“Then what is, huh? What would you, a fucking ADA with apparently expert knowledge on hostage situations, have me do?” Devon answered, blood boiling.

Barba had no answer, so he let out an annoyed huff, and pushed past her. He made his way to one of the benches left outside a courtroom, intended for those waiting to go in, and sat down hard. He leaned his face into his hands, elbows on his knees. Devon took deep breaths through her nostrils, knowing that she needed to take a step back, to control this anger that seemed to stem from nowhere. And she needed to try and calm him down, too, whether he liked it or not. But first, she had to make a phone call.

The crowd that had gathered was staying well away from the body, and even further away from the two of them after their shouting match. She was sure that the police had already been called, but Devon still took out her phone and dialed Olivia’s cell, asking her to alert CSU and IAB. While it was true that the FBI had their own Internal Affairs, and Devon would have to talk to them, too, she was technically working for SVU at the moment, so IAB and 1PP would be involved. It was always tricky with them; they loved to remind her that she wasn’t an NYPD officer, but they also loved to throw her under the bus when they thought she fucked up. She had a grim curiosity about what policies they would take with her this time. Once she hung up with Liv, she figured she’d inform Barba.

Without moving closer, Devon spoke to the wall in front of her. “IAB is going to want to talk to you, too. You’re an eyewitness.” Barba sat in silence, no indication that he even heard her. Devon took another deep breath; she was going to have this conversation with him at some point, might as well be now while he wasn’t yelling.

“If you want someone else to protect you, I have no objections. I understand if you don’t trust me now,” she said softly. The words ripped a hole in her heart to say, but it was his right to have a choice, something he didn’t have when Liv shoved Devon onto him. Plus, she couldn’t get the image of his face after Marco was dead out of her mind: the fear, the anger, the betrayal. Like she was the worst person in the world.

Barba had a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind; they swirled, and he couldn’t seem to clear it. He knew he had to answer her tonight, so he finally said, more to the floor than to her, “I just want to go home for the night; get a good night’s rest. I…I need time to process all of this.”

Well, that was normal after having such a near-death experience, and he wasn’t giving her the boot quite yet. Though, she was waiting for the other shoe to drop; by tomorrow, he’d be done with her. Recognizing that the conversation was over, she thought about their sleeping arrangements. IAB wouldn’t allow her to stay with him tonight; it was against protocol. They could concoct a story about all of this, lie for each other. Her adrenaline was already wearing off, leaving her exhausted. But they had to wait for Olivia to get there, to deal with this situation.

Thankfully, they only had to wait another five minutes, though it felt like an eternity in silence. Olivia was somehow the first on the scene, the rest of SVU on her heels. The detectives started clearing the courthouse of spectators, while Liv came over to the agent and counselor. Devon took off her gun and knife, handing them over.

She took them but turned to Barba first. “There will be an unmarked car watching your place tonight. I think you should get a good night’s sleep before talking to officers tomorrow morning. I’ll give you a ride home tonight, and then come by tomorrow for your statement.” He gave her a stiff nod, then Olivia turned to Devon, sighing heavily. “IAB has instructed me to escort you to the hospital for a blood-alcohol test,”

“That’s normal—” Devon started, before Olivia cut her off.

“And then to place you under arrest until they investigate this further.” Ah, there it is, Devon thought.

She smiled grimly. “And when will that be?” Devon asked. Officers had up to 48 hours to report to IAB after an incident like this, and Devon was sure that they’d make her wait the whole time, incarcerated...if they counted her as an officer. They could potentially make her wait indefinitely. As shitty as that was, all she could think about was who would watch Barba tomorrow at work.

Liv shook her head. “I don’t know; they didn’t specify. Detective Rollins will escort you to the hospital, and then to the cage at SVU.” Better than Rikers, Devon thought ruefully. She glanced at Barba, trying to make sure he was alright, but he was still staring at the floor.

Olivia gave her a look full of concern, before nodding to Rollins. Devon placed her hands behind her back and Rollins cuffed her, looking upset that she was the one chosen to do so. She read her her rights as they left the courthouse. Barba finally looked up as she led her away, a tightness in his chest. Arrested for murder…arrested for saving his life.

Liv sat on the bench next to him. “Are you alright, Rafa?”

He pulled his eyes from Devon’s retreating form, looking at Olivia, her expression full of worry. “She saved my life yet again, but by killing someone. I’m...I’m not sure how to feel about it.” He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that it could come to this, that she may have to shoot someone to protect him. But his life had almost always been painted in black and white; murder is bad, illegal. Sure, there were exceptions, but they were few and far in between. And even then, he always viewed justifiable homicide as a last resort. Was killing Marco a last resort?

Liv mulled over her thoughts for a while before replying, “I’ve known Devon for years; she wouldn’t shoot someone for no reason.”

Barba suddenly realized that she had no idea what happened here; Devon wasn’t allowed to tell her without having counsel with her, and Barba didn’t count since he was a witness. So, Barba gave her the broad strokes of what had happened, including Marco’s threat that had pushed Devon over the edge and their conversation afterwards. Liv almost stopped him—he shouldn’t be telling her or anyone besides IAB about this—but he wasn’t a trained officer, and he needed to tell someone about this. Might as well be her.

So, Liv listened in silence, nodding along with his tale. She sighed when he finished, saying, “look, Rafa, you know that I’m against murder as much as you are. But this sounds like a good shoot. She shot him not in self-defense, but in defense of you, which may be a stronger pull, especially for someone like Devon. Trust me, though, she’s not nearly as accepting of this outcome as she may seem.”

Barba took that into consideration; maybe killing a man was eating her up inside. He knew that she had shot people before, but he didn’t know if she had killed someone before. And all he had done was yell at her, blaming her for saving his life yet again. He felt ashamed that he couldn’t control himself, his emotions; he knew Devon at this point. She wasn’t some serial killer. She was his friend, and she was risking her life every day making sure he was safe. And now she was in jail.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Liv said, breaking through his thoughts. He picked up his briefcase on the way out, unable to stomach even glancing at the blood on the ground. They rode in silence, enraptured in their own thoughts; Olivia worrying over how IAB would handle this case—she knew that IAB wasn’t particularly fond of SVU’s relationship with the Federal agent—and Barba going over the whole scene in his mind over and over again, from the moment those elevator doors closed to Devon’s back as she was led out in cuffs. After saying their goodbyes, Barba headed into his building. He noticed the unmarked car parked in front, but it didn’t feel like a comfort, not like Devon’s presence felt. He opened the door and locked it behind him, arming the doorstop like she had shown him. His loft seemed so empty, so quiet. Grabbing the thickest book he could find, he checked every room for intruders; a mockery of how professional Devon usually conducted the search. Barba felt foolish doing it himself, book in hand, but he knew it must be done if he wanted any peace tonight; his blood was still rushing in his ears. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he slowly stripped off his jacket and looked at the time. 11:36pm. He knew there was no chance of sleep tonight, but he’d have to try. To hopefully help him sleep, he dug out his favorite bottle of scotch, pouring himself a glass. He had to sort out his mind if he was ever going to sleep, though the alcohol may help calm his nerves, too. Plus, he needed to figure out how tomorrow was going to play out. He’d never talked to IAB before, nor been an eyewitness to a crime…at least, not like this. For court, he had his bullet-proof question tree, his responses to whatever the opposition said written down and memorized. Now, though, he was the one on trial, and he had no idea what to say.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Friday, May 1st. 7:00am

Barba showered in the morning, after tossing and turning all night. He didn’t go to bed until after 1am, but even with how exhausted he was, not to mention slightly drunk, he could not sleep. He kept thinking about the look of conviction in Devon’s eyes as she pulled the trigger, Marco’s dead body, blood splattered everywhere, his anger and fear as he took out all that energy, all that adrenaline, on Devon. Every time he thought about that conversation, a fresh wave of shame washed over him. He knew that victims sometimes lashed out after something traumatic happened, but he wasn’t a victim…right? He never thought of himself as one; he was simply a marked man. But even he knew that was a bunch of crap.

He got a text sometime while in the shower from McCoy, telling him to take the day, and the weekend, off. First of all, he knew that IAB would want to interview Barba about the dead body found by the elevators last night. And second, he knew that Barba probably needed the time off to collect his thoughts after having such a close brush with death. True, McCoy knew the ADA well, knew that he could handle himself and could feasibly work if asked, but the DA knew it would be better to let Barba relax for a couple days.

Don’t worry, I got a continuous on all your cases. McCoy texted him.

Sighing, he got dressed in a suit, though not one of his expensive court suits—this was more of a “weekend” suit, as he liked to call them. Though, Devon loved to tease him that they didn’t look different. He tried to explain it once, about the different material, the different cuts in shape, but she only laughed harder. He came out of his room, mumbling a quiet, “morning,” then looked to the couch when there was no answer, finding it empty. Oh…right, he thought, missing her singsong, perky voice in the morning. Then he realized that that meant there was no coffee made yet.

As he moved in the kitchen. his phone went off, causing him to jump and almost dropped his mug; it was a message from Liv letting him know that IAB had pushed back the meeting and that she would update him with a time when she knew. She would be there in a bit for his statement, and the unmarked car would stay posted until further notice. At least that gave him some time to finalize what he wanted to say to Devon when…if he saw her. He had solidified his testimony that he would say to IAB. With nothing else to do, he sat in his armchair nervously, fiddling with a pen in his hands.

SVU Department

Friday, May 1st. 7:00am

Devon stared at the ceiling of SVU’s holding cell. Thankfully, she was its only occupant all night. Rollins had given her a pillow and a blanket and told her to try and get some sleep, but they both knew that that wasn’t happening. Instead, Devon counted the bars on the walls, did her normal workouts that she performed in Barba’s loft every morning, and thought about anything that wasn’t Barba’s face, full of fear—fear of Marco, or her?—from the night before. But as the time trickled by and night gave way to dawn, Devon was forced to confront last night’s events. She meant what she had said; she wasn’t sorry that she had killed Marco. If she had done nothing, if she had hesitated for even a second longer, there’d be two bodies in the morgue. She was pretty sure the Barba understood that, but she did not expect him to flip out like he did. Shock makes people lash out, she told herself. Though she wasn’t thrilled that she had killed someone, it wasn’t her first time, either. And Barba was right; in a perfect world, she would have been able to de-escalate the situation, even though she knew deep down that she only had the two options; kill or be killed. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself. She thought back to the fight with Barba; she had dealt with…troublesome victims before: she’d had people yell at her, take a swing at her, threaten her and everyone she loved. So, why was this different? Why did this hurt so much more? A thought in her mind caught her attention. She tried to ignore it, to squish it, but it remained. You love him. She shook her head—no, no! She didn’t, couldn’t. They only met a few months ago! This was just a crush, a superficial infatuation based on living in such close quarters...ignoring the fact that he was ridiculously handsome, smart, funny, caring.... Okay, she had to stop thinking about it. It would pass, it had to.

“Morning,” Fin greeted. Devon jumped, not hearing him approach; she was too wrapped in her thoughts. She sat up and saw that he held a coffee out to her. “Don’t tell anyone I gave you this.”

She took the coffee from him. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. She took a sip, letting it warm her; the cell was cold, despite the blanket. “So, what time is it?”

Fin checked his watch before answering, “seven. And bad news, IAB pushed your interview back. No official time yet,” Devon huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes; of course, they were going to make her sweat, waiting in a cell. Plus, it was Friday; they may make her wait all weekend. “Also, they told us to keep you in cuffs until you go into interrogation.”

“Ah, right. IAB: guilty until proven otherwise. Tucker still in charge?”

Fin smirked. “You think that asshole has anything better to do?”

Devon grinned, then took her seat on the bench that served as a bed, trying to calm her nerves. She sipped at her coffee but didn’t really taste it. Her mind was racing again; she wasn’t afraid of IAB, per se, but that wasn’t the only variable here. Tucker already had a deep dislike of Devon. And then there was also Barba’s statement. Was he still pissed at her? Would he throw her under the bus, tell IAB that she didn’t need to kill Marco? She honestly didn’t know, and that worried her most.

The day passed by slowly, but thankfully no other perp was added to the cage. She was only let out to use the restroom, and none of the detectives felt like making her wear the cuffs. Devon sat in silence, going over her testimony again and again, making sure she had an answer for everything. She was going to tell the truth, but IAB was good at twisting words and actions, and she wanted to be prepared. She replayed every moment from the night before…except for the fight with Barba. She knew she’d have to review it eventually, but she really didn’t have the strength after the sleepless night.

The detectives were all busy; Liv and Fin stopped by every now and again to check in, update her on IAB’s timetable and to see if she needed something. Technically, they weren’t allowed to talk about what had happened, even though Devon waived Miranda. It wasn’t until about 2pm that she had any real company. Detective Amaro came into the cage, bringing a plain bologna sandwich for Devon’s lunch. Government money at work.

“Thanks,” she said, sitting up. Amaro surprised her by taking a seat next to her.

“Mind if we talk a little bit? I feel like we haven’t really talked much,” he replied, handing her the sandwich. Devon unwrapped it, took a bite. Better than nothing, and her stomach was empty outside of shitty precinct coffee. It was true, though; besides bringing Barba in for cases, Devon hadn’t really been around SVU enough to really “meet” the new detectives. Not including the awkward hospital visit from the night before with Rollins.

“Uh, sure, as long as we don’t talk about last night; don’t want IAB coming down on your head, too. What’s on your mind?”

He held out his hand for her to shake. “Detective Nick Amaro. Transferred from narcotics. Been in SVU for a little over a year, but I don’t see myself doing anything else. Partnered first with Benson, and now Rollins. And trust me, I don’t need another reason to have IAB coming after me.”

Devon shook his hand, a little bemused that he was introducing himself. “Ah, Senior Special Agent Devon Motely. FBI for 20 years; started as negotiator and added on undercover. Don’t have a partner, but I do have a team, much like NYPD’s ESU. I trust them with my life, even if I don’t work with them as often as I’d like.”

Amaro sat for a moment, taking in her words. “I looked in your jacket, this is your third kill. Last two were clean, too.” He seemed a little nervous talking about her personal file but hid it well with a charming smile.

Third in the jacket, Devon mentally corrected, and that doesn’t include firefights, where it’s impossible to tell who shot whom. But that wasn’t something she was going to bring up, not now. Devon remembered the other two that were in her file, though. The first had haunted her for weeks afterwards, even if he did deserve it. The man was a bastard; trafficked young girls, even “tested” them out, to make sure they could perform. He had run when Devon confronted him, then started shooting once cornered. She just happened to get him first, total luck, and she knew it. Probably why she didn’t sleep for two weeks afterwards. The second one still hurt, even years later. It was a 22-year-old man—a kid, really—who was caught in a bad situation. He was abused, both physically and sexually, by his father since he was 13. Then one day, he snapped. Took a gun, went to his parent’s house. Devon was called in to try and de-escalate the situation. She got out of her car, and gunshots went off. The kid had shot both parents, then came out the front door just as Devon was rushing in. He had the gun facing down at the ground and didn’t raise it fast enough by the time he shot, hitting Devon in the hip. She reacted on instinct alone, shooting him in the stomach. He died in her arms, bled out before EMTs could get there. She still had nightmares about it, every time she looked at the scar on her hip. She was lucky; the bullet had gone clean through, hitting nothing. A one in a million shot.

“Devon?” Amaro asked, pulling Devon out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry. I, uh, I have shot two people before Marco, correct,” she replied. “Wish I hadn’t, but things happen on the job. I’m sure you know that.”

Amaro nodded. “Yeah, I—I’ve taken some shots before, too.” He let out a breath. “Takes a toll after a while, huh?” Devon agreed. It came with the job, and therapy was a lifesaver. But some scars took longer to heal than others. “So, how did this one go down?”

Wait, was he trying to interrogate her? Come in as a friend and pry into the case? Or was Devon looking into it too much? She wasn’t sure, but she also didn’t know the guy.

“I think that Tucker would be pretty pissed if I talked to an SVU detective about this,” she deflected, keeping her voice light.

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to grill you or anything. But I agree; he already doesn’t care for me, anyways. Don’t need to give him more ammunition against me.”

“That’s something we have in common. You think they had to ‘push back’ this investigation because IAB is busy? CSU still processing info? Nah, Tucker hates my guts,” Devon chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“I think that’s just Tucker,” Amaro replied, smiling.

Just then, Fin walked up. Amaro stood to leave, as if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Just so you know, they finally set a time. 3pm.” Fin announced. Thank god; having a set time took some of the weight off Devon’s shoulders, but it did make her stomach drop all the same. Both Amaro and Fin left then, Amaro giving Devon a small smile, a peace offering after her accusation.

Fin came back 20 minutes later and reluctantly cuffed Devon once more. At least he left them a little loose, so she wasn’t losing circulation. He took her to his squad car, and he, along with Rollins, drove her to IAB’s headquarters.

[always-and-forever-a-killjoy]

Building Home Chapter 4

Hey fuckers and welcome to another chapter of Building Home! I've decided to switch to posting on Saturdays because Fridays are always chaotic, just a heads up, but I'll still be posting regularly for at least another six weeks, hopefully longer if I get my ass together enough to write the last six chapters of this in those six weeks (or at least like, Chapter 11 and 12). Anyways, the song for last week was so big/so small from dear evan hansen. This week's isn't quite so tricky, I don't think!

Title: Building Home

Chapter Title: I’ll keep you safe inside

Chapter Wordcount: 2263

Chapter Summary:

The crew settles into living with Autumn Assassin and the house of soup crew, and the Analog Wars suck ass.

POV: Dr. Death Defying

Warnings: Injury mentions, death mentions.. (If you want to know what parts to skip, go to the end notes on AO3- I also put a brief summary of any important info in those parts. Stay safe!)

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen​ @no-braincells-here @piratecherricola (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 AO3 Link

Chapter 1 Tumblr Post

Chapter 2 Tumblr Post

Chapter 3 Tumblr Post

(Actual fic under the cut)

They stayed with Autumn Assassin for a while longer, talking with the killjoys of the household and generally having a better time than just living alone. It was a little strange to have three of them in one small room, but none of them minded much. 

“I shared a room with my sister in Battery City,” Cherri Cola told the others. D restrained any surprise from showing on his face- Cherri almost never volunteered information about himself, and especially not his past. It was something killjoys didn’t talk about much and rarely shared with anyone except their crew. So D just nodded in acceptance.

“D and I are used to sharing,” Lily agreed. “So we’ll just have to stick it out,”

Autumn Assassin, meanwhile, had taken Cherri under their wing. They had the common trait of being an excellent shot, and Autumn had managed to get him a much nicer ray gun. 

“Scarecrow model,” They informed him. 

Cherri nodded as they positioned his hands on the new ray gun. “Right. Look around what you’re aiming at, keep your hands in this position and steady as you can, and don’t hesitate. Hesitation will kill you, kid.”

D was watching the lesson just like he had watched Lily teach Cherri, making sure Autumn wasn’t too rough. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the other killjoy- White Lily trusted them, and that was good enough for him- but he wanted to make sure Cherri’s wound healed properly as well. So he was sitting and watching as they taught Cherri how to shoot better than ever before. Cherri was taking to the lessons eagerly, wanting to learn how to fight. 

“Don’t hesitate,” he repeated, and pulled the trigger. 

Autumn Assassin whooped as the can fell. “Good shot, kid!”

Cherri was grinning as he glanced back at D. “A hundred and sixty.”

“I saw,” D grinned back. “That’s pretty fucking incredible, Cherri.”

“He’s a quick one,” Autumn agreed. “Needs to work on his hand-to-hand combat and reactions in the heat of battle, but he’s a good shot.”

“I’ll do hand to hand if you want to teach me,” Cherri offered quietly.

“Of course I do, kid, you’re a quick learner and frankly a lot of fun to teach.”

Cherri’s grin grew even wider. “I’m seventeen.”

“And I’m almost thirty, what’s your point? You’re a kid to me, even if you kick ass at shooting and probably other things too.”

“Fair.”

“Ready to kick some ass?”

“Yeah!”

“Be careful of your stitches,” D warned, but it wasn’t his place to stop Cherri. 

“I will be, don’t worry. I don’t feel like getting hurt again,” the other said dryly.

“Good, I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

“Overprotective,” Cherri said with an eye roll, but he was smiling. 

“I’d rather not have one of my best friends die because he was an idiot and ripped his stitches, thank you very much.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Cherri was…less than careful, in D’s opinion, but he didn’t rip any stitches while training with Autumn Assassin so that was a something, at least. He did, however, get very good at fighting with a variety of weapons, including but not limited to knives, ray guns, older style guns, and even simple hand-to-hand combat. Autumn Assassin’s name included ‘assassin’ for a reason, and it wasn’t that they could poison people.

Meanwhile, D and Lily dedicated their time to the radio station and recruiting more people. Killjoys had started to settle in other houses and buildings in this little town area, given how intact many of them were. It was becoming a whole little community, arsonists and crash queens living next to medics and some of the most peaceful rebels. So while Autumn Assassin was teaching Cherri to be terrifyingly good at fighting, D and Lily were wandering the area and getting to know the killjoys there.

They met Legolas Greenleaf, fantasy nerd and excellent maker of crepes, apparently, although given that it was the desert they couldn’t really verify that. He and his crew dressed like fantasy elves and kicked draculoid ass while shouting things like ‘dishonor on your lineage!’ and ‘spawn of Morgoth!’. There was also Tommy Chow Mein, who both of them knew from the wars and was running a little general store out of what had once been the town’s general store, and his assistant was a kid called Penny Pincher who had copper-colored hair and was a bit younger than Cherri.

The variety of killjoys in the town ranged from a short, grouchy killjoy who simply went by ‘Fuck’ and was one of the best medics out there to a tall, freckled killjoy called Angel Kisses who was an absolute sweetheart but would absolutely fuck you up. Ages ranged from some of the oldest soldiers of the Helium Wars (“I’m damn near forty.”) to the younger siblings and even children of some killjoys (“She’s a bit under a year, just barely weaned but we had to get her out of Battery City.”) From the news others brought in, they knew this wasn’t the only community of killjoys, but it was by far the largest. Here was where the center of the rebellion would be for another few years, and the unsuspecting Autumn Assassin’s house was at the center of it all.

Their house was already somewhat of a town hub, being the most intact and the one with the most residents, and Autumn Assassin seemed to encourage this.

“What with the amount of people here, we’ve always got extra food, and extra rooms for travelers. We’ve got the resources, might as well use them. And I don’t mind these dumbasses hanging around the living room, they bring some life to the place.” That was what they told D when he asked about it, leaning against the counter as the two of them watched the chaos unfold in their living room like it did almost every day. 

“They certainly do bring life. Also chaos.”

Autumn Assassin cackled. “That’s true. Nothing wrong with a bit of chaos, though. We are killjoys, after all.”

“True, we are.” D frowned. “Do you worry about Lil and I bringing bli down on your head?”

“If you do, we’ll tell them to fuck off.” Their face grew more serious. “I’m not kidding, though, Doctor Death. We give no fucks about Better Living, and we do give some fucks about you and your little crew. I worry a little about putting the younger members of the house in danger, but all of them knew what they were getting into. And all of them know how to fight.”

“I’m assuming you taught them?”

“How did you guess?” Their voice was utterly deadpan. “Not all of them, but yeah. I insist on teaching everyone who comes through some basic hand-to-hand combat and how to shoot a ray gun, if they don’t know. It’s my way of keeping them safe. Like your radio station.”

It was true, 109 in the sky had many goals, but one of them was keeping the killjoys safe and informed. The more they knew about upcoming dangers, the better they could fight back, and WKIL served as a hub of information. Killjoys radioed in or brought news of whatever they had found, from a supply truck that had been raided and had some extra supplies to exterminators coming to the desert. Code words were a part of this too, a cobbled together mixture of killjoy slang and actual code that served as yet another line of defense. Even if Better Living Industries figured out how to listen in, it wasn’t as if they would understand half the words being said, and Dr. Death Defying knew they had to keep it that way. Secrecy was essential to a successful rebellion, as Lily had put it. So the code was an important part of running the radio station, alongside the technology and the consistent news.

Even as they began to travel around again, taking the news van to broadcast from different Zones as a way of confusing Better Living Industries, they continued to return to Autumn Assassin’s house and the town around it as a home base. The room that Autumn Assassin had given them at the very start was theirs permanently now, and Autumn always kept it open for them. Sometimes they would be gone a day or two, sometimes an entire week or even a month or more. It depended on how close they thought Better Living Industries was to catching on, and traveling around seemed to be working as a method of confusing the corporation. In addition to the FM radio station of WKIL, multiple AM stations had sprung up that took the info from D’s daily broadcast and spread it over a wider range. Their signal was much easier to interfere with, which was why the original WKIL was an FM station, but it got the news out to the entirety of the Zones, providing an invaluable service. 

So the rebellion continued to grow, month after month, until the Zones were alive with killjoys and color, loud noise and firefights. Cherri’s training at the hands of Autumn Assassin had only made him more bold, much to D’s worry, but he had to admit that Cherri’s borderline insane antics were a very effective method. He was one of the few killjoys unafraid to fight almost any level of Better Living Industries employee, and one of the most effective at it too.

Lily, meanwhile, was working on organizing larger raids and even attacking Battery City itself. D was her right hand, as always, but he was also occupied with the radio station and other things. So Cherri had stepped partially into their role, accompanying Lily when she went on missions and standing by her side as a very effective deterrent against exterminators. Better Living Industries had intensified their efforts to find Lily and D, and Cherri was now top of their wanted lists as well. He had gone from an unremarkable and frankly unintimidating sixteen-year-old to one of the finest shots in the desert and a highly wanted killjoy, the name Cherri Cola whispered almost as often as you could hear whispers of Dr. Death Defying or White Lily.

He had gained a reputation for being one of few killjoys who usually worked alone, often taking on missions solo (and giving D and Lily a heart attack when he stumbled back in with a stab wound or ray gun shot, bruised and battered). That wouldn’t change until their last few crew members joined up, and even then, Cherri was fiercely independent both as a fighter and a person. He was loyal, that was for sure, willing to fight just about anything for D or Lily, but he would always prefer solo raids or missions.

That scared D shitless, but they couldn’t stop him and they trusted Cherri to keep himself safe, to an extent. He was still more reckless than D or Lily would like, but neither of them could really blame him. 

“I don’t know what he’s running from, but there’s something.” That was Lily, plunking down in a chair next to them.

“We’re all running from something, aren’t we?”

“Dark but true.”

The two of them knew what each other was running from better than anyone else. Both somewhat happy children back in Battery City, there was nothing in their childhood that they ran from, only a faint sense of nostalgia, but the war they had fought in had changed them both in ways they didn’t like to think about. There was a past there to run from, horrors to set right. D knew that Lily had a sense that she needed to put things right, needed to atone in some way for her deeds during the Helium Wars. If that atonement, that fight, took her life, she would accept it as such. 

It might have been selfish of him, but he would not atone. They were trying, of course, to make the world a better place, fighting for the future they believed in, but the past was the past, and D refused to die for the crimes he had committed then. He had fought to survive for long enough that he wasn’t giving up now, regardless of what fate would be just for them. The best they could and would do now was fight for the future, not die for the past. 

It wasn’t easy for him either, watching young killjoys fight and be injured and even die, but he had to believe in what they were fighting and dying for. They would break the stranglehold of Better Living Industries, they would live free and bring the same for their children and all the generations that would come after them. All this wasn’t for nothing.

That was what D told themself as they watched Cherri curl into a ball in the corner of the room, protecting the slash on his side like a wounded animal. That was what they repeated when Lily’s sobs shook the mattress at night, keeping the others awake even if they didn’t dare break the silence of the room. D just prayed the others’ spirits wouldn’t end up as broken as their bodies after claps.

This pattern continued, day after day and week after week as their missions got more dangerous and Cherri grew even more reckless and solitary. It wouldn’t be truly broken until far after the final few members of their crew arrived, but the one who arrived next did by far the most towards that end.

[soobiniebaby]

Angels & Devils Part III: Give Me a Highlight

Tomorrow x Together Fanfiction

~ p a r t s : main post || prologue || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || part 6 || part 7 || part 8 || part 9 || part 10 || part 11 || part 12 || part 13 || part 14 || part 15 || part 16 || part 17 ~ p a i r i n g : love triangle involving choi soobin and choi yeonjun ~ g e n r e : high school au | some social media au | some fluff & angst | childhood friends | love triangle ~ l a n g u a g e : English ~ w a r n i n g : contains swearing, alcohol, kissing (?) and may contain mature themes (angst, etc.) ~ a / n : This will be my first fanfic (go easy on me pls) and i’m just writing this as I go along, so bear with me juseyo The setting (place/country) of the story is up to the reader’s interpretation ~ s u m m a r y : What should she choose? Han Baby: the new girl with a troubled past MO Academy: her new high school Choi Soobin: student council president, member of the Ecosave club, volunteer at the Humane Treatment of Animals, member of the Honor Society, a vocalist in the Jazzed club, the school’s all around golden boy Choi Yeonjun: leader of the Dance club, star of the Jazzed club, the school’s it boy with a bad rep 5 best friends, 1 new girl, 1 childhood friendship, 1 epic love triangle? What will this school year bring?

Being a new student on the first day of a new academic year was a bit of an experience for B, especially since she always had at least one member of the student council by her side throughout the day.

After lunch, Beomgyu had walked with her to their French class. She was used to getting looks as she passed by, because even at her old school she knew that people knew who she was, but the looks she was receiving at MOA were different. No one really knew who she was yet, or what her family was like. They weren’t looking at her with cold judgement, they weren’t whispering about her family background, but rather they were staring at her with bright curious eyes, and a bit of, dare she say it, jealousy?

When she was walking with Kai, she didn’t mind the stares too much because 1) she knew that her best friend was popular so it was only natural for people to stare at him and 2) she had enough history with Kai and felt comfortable enough with him to know that no matter what people may think, he was her best friend and no rumor or speculation could change that.

But as she walked alone with Beomgyu and sat beside him in class, the stares felt different. As comfortable enough as she was around Beomgyu, she realized that the level of comfort she felt with Kai was on another level. With Kai by her side, she felt like she had a shield that could block out what other people might say, but being alone with someone like Beomgyu, she felt bare and prone to judgement.

It wasn’t Beomgyu’s fault. He was warm, he was charming, and she felt at ease talking to him and enjoyed his company. He cracked funny jokes and made her feel close to him so effortlessly that if it weren’t for the stares, she would’ve felt like he was a close friend already.

But she was always super conscious of getting stares, so much so that it had a tendency to affect how she acted when she felt them. And Beomgyu seemed to notice this.

“Hey, B, are you alright?” he asks her as they occupy a couple of empty seats in their French class.

B nods. She wasn’t very good at hiding her feelings, so she simply said “Yeah I’m fine, I just don’t like it when I see people staring. It really makes me feel uneasy.”

Beomgyu looks at her with concern then and lays a hand on her wrist. “Hey, don’t mind them, alright? It’s probably just cause you’re the pretty new girl, so everyone’s probably just curious, that’s all.”

“The pretty new girl? Really?” B says looking at him with her brow raised.

Beomgyu holds his hands up defensively. “Well, you are? Pretty sure that’s how everyone sees you. To be honest, I’ve had a couple of guys from my last period ask about you. Looks like someone’s popular.” he says, nudging her arm teasingly.

B laughs, surprised. “You’re joking, right? What did they ask? Were they cute?”

“They wanted to know about you, I just told them you were pretty nice and cool. As for their looks, well, I guess you can say that MOA has a fairly attractive student population. Take me, for example.” Beomgyu says, rubbing his chin and making faces. “I mean, if you ever feel bad about the stares you get, just imagine that they’re all focusing on my handsome face.”

B hits his arm playfully, laughing out loud. “I can’t argue with that! Thanks Beomgyu, that actually made me feel a lot better.”

Beomgyu laughs along. “Don’t sweat it. Call me Gyu, by the way.”

Just then, their teacher for the period walks into the room, and everyone settles into their seats.

“Bonjour, je m’appelle Jackson.” Their teacher begins, addressing the class.

Beomgyu groans quietly. “Aw shit, why did my parents want me to learn French. Do you know any French?” he whispers to B.

B shrugs and says. “Ah Cher Monsieur Gyu, Je parle un petit peu de français.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen. “Well then, um, mademoiselle B. Uh…Omelette du fromage?”

B whacks his arm and lets out a laugh, then immediately shuts up and sits up straight as their teacher glares at the pair.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you with French.” B whispers. Beomgyu squeezes her hand under the table and whispers back “Thanks, B.”

•°•

“Is it just me, or are the stares and whispers getting a bit ridiculous?” B asks Soobin as they walk into their English class, the last period for the day. She could feel the stares throughout the day and was starting to get used to them, but as soon as she and Soobin entered the classroom, the stares now came with whispers, which made it so much more uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry about it. As much of a hot topic you are, being the new girl and all that, I think everyone’s whispering about Yeonjun’s absence. It was also like this at my last class. Everyone wants to know why he skipped his first day of class after being suspended last term.” Soobin says, leaning in close and keeping his voice low. “By the way, where do you wanna sit?” he asks politely. The teacher wasn’t in the room yet and a lot of the students weren’t seated yet, so they had a lot of seats to choose from.

“Anywhere’s fine, really.” B says. Soobin nods as he leads her to a couple of seats to the side close to the windows.

“I can’t say I blame them. I mean, I know the reason why but my head’s still spinning with questions about the whole thing.” B whispers to him as they sit down. “You guys weren’t very helpful about it, either.” she huffs as she recalls how their lunchbreak ended.

It was like they had a script prepared for whenever anyone asked them about Yeonjun and his strange disappearances from school.

“It’s complicated.” “It’s not our story to tell.” “He has a lot of family issues.” “He’s a very busy guy.” “It happens a lot.”

Soobin laughs. “I’m sorry, but it’s not our story to tell. If you really want to know, you can just ask Yeonjun himself. I’m sure you’ll appreciate it more coming from him, and I’m sure that he’ll appreciate you talking to him directly rather than asking other people about it as well.”

B pouts, knowing that Soobin was right. “Can’t argue with that. Plus, no matter how much I’ve heard about you guys, I think it would still be different if I got to know you all on my own.”

“Oh? Just how much have you heard about us guys, exactly?” Soobin asks with a raised brow.

B bites her lip as she realizes her slip up. Whoops. She couldn’t take it back now, so she replied honestly. “I promised Kai I’d stay quiet about it because he didn’t want me to weird you guys out by asking questions, but I’ve heard quite a lot about you guys from a couple of girls in my Biology class.”

“Don’t worry about it, I guess it was bound to happen. When you’re a member of the student council, people are bound to talk about you I guess.” he says lightheartedly.

Yeah, and when you’re a group of 5 attractive, tall, and insanely talented nice guys B thought to herself.

“I’m really curious though, what have you heard about me? Good things, I hope?” Soobin asks with a hopeful look on his face.

“Actually, the girls told me all about the other council members, but I didn’t hear much about you.” B says.

Soobin’s face fell as he looked at her with puppy dog eyes. “Is that so? Damn being the council president isn’t as big of a deal as it used to be, I guess.” he said dramatically, feigning hurt as he put a fist over his heart. “Maybe I should stir up some drama to get people talking about me on the first day.”

B laughs at his antics. “No, silly. We didn’t get to talk about you because the bell rang just as your name came up in our conversation.”

He laughed along sheepishly. “Well, I feel silly now.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, not that it’s important to me, but you know, it would be nice to feel included since you’ve heard so much about the other members already.”

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be able to get to know a lot about you soon enough.” B says, just as their teacher walks in and everybody takes their seats. B notices that no one takes the other seat beside Soobin, as if they collectively had an unspoken agreement that it was reserved for the absent blue-haired boy.

The teacher makes a quick scan of the room and looks at his notes before facing the class. “Ah, yes, I’ve been informed that Mr. Choi has been excused from classes this afternoon. Let’s hope no one else will be making any more absences than deemed necessary.”

A few whispers are heard around the room before the teacher proceeds. “I also understand that we have a new student, and she’s a Sophomore too, so I hope that as seniors you will treat her well and welcome her warmly to MO Academy. I’m Sir Kim, your teacher for this term, and I hope you’ll enjoy my class, Ms. Han.” he says directly to B. He smiles when he realizes that Soobin is seated next to her. “And who better than our student council president, Mr. Choi Soobin himself to ensure that you’ll be comfortable and feel right at home here with us.”

Soobin smiles back at Sir Kim sort of shyly, not expecting his name to be mentioned. “I’ll make sure of it, Sir.” he promises.

Sir Kim nods approvingly. “Now, I want to give you a short introduction to our class, which is Creative Writing 101. I think the title speaks for itself, but I’d like to do things a little differently, starting with giving you your first project for the term, which will be worth 25% of your grade.”

B whispers “Damn.” under her breath while other students gasp audibly and some whispers start up again before Sir Kim quiets them down. “I know it’s only your first day of school, but for most of you it’ll be your last year at this school, so I want to maximize the time you have left here. For today, I will simply present the project to you and allow you to discuss and plan the output amongst yourselves so it won’t be too heavy. This project will be done by pairs of your choosing, which we will settle within the day. Those absent today will be given consideration.”

Soobin and B share a look then, and they smile when they realize they looked at each other at the same time.

“Partners?” B asks, knowing he was about to ask her the same thing.

“Sure.” he says, and they shake hands before turning their attention back to Sir Kim.

“For your first project, not only will you be doing creative writing, but you will be forming a narrative. Telling a story in a different way, through a different medium.” he begins, doing his best to make the project sound interesting. “I will be asking you to use social media platforms of your choosing to create a narrative, to tell a story, to develop characters, and to show creative writing in a creative way. You have a month to work on it, and I expect at least one entry, rather one social media update, every week. Each social media update should feature you or your partner. And all pictures or messages have to be taken by and composed by either you or your partner. Now, go into pairs, discuss it amongst yourselves, and if you have any questions feel free to approach me.” Sir Kim finishes, then he starts walking around the room as the class excitedly begins to pair up.

B turns to Soobin, caught up in the excitement along with the rest of the class. “Wow, I haven’t had an assignment like this before. It seems pretty interesting.”

Soobin nods. “Sir Kim is one of the well-known teachers at MOA, they say his classes are always fun, so I’m really excited to be taking it.”

“Well, do you have any ideas on what we should do for our project? It’s worth 25% of our final grade, so I think we should really put effort into it.” B asks.

Soobin looks at her then and he can practically see the gears turning in her head. “I was thinking we should decide on what social media platforms we should use first, and what sort of story we should tell with each post, but it looks like you’re full of ideas.”

“Yeah, my mind’s going a mile a minute.” B admits. “I like stories, but I’m not much of a story-teller. My idea sucks anyway, since we’re a boy and a girl, the first story idea that came to mind was me and Kai, which now that I think about it seems pretty boring considering we’re basically just childhood friends.”

“That doesn’t seem boring, really. A lot of things could happen between childhood friends.” Soobin interjects. “They could grow old together, they could drift apart.”

They could fall in love, he thought, but fortunately he was able to stop himself from saying the sudden idea out loud, not knowing where it came from.

B wrinkles her nose. “I mean yeah, I guess that hadn’t really occurred to me since I was just thinking of what my relationship with Kai is like. I don’t think we’ll be able to show us as childhood friends growing old together though considering we only have a month to do the project, unless we could make ourselves look years older with every post.” she says.

“That’s a fair point.” Soobin agrees. “I like the idea of us being childhood friends though, so our posts can start with us already knowing each other instead of us meeting each other for the first time.”

“Ooh, how about this.” B says, turning to Soobin excitedly. “Okay, we could appear as childhood friends in our project, but in real life we’re just getting to know each other, right? So maybe while we’re getting to know each other, let’s just document each other and create posts around what pictures or information we gather about each other? Basically, we just take pictures of each other every time we hang out or see each other, then we’ll make stories out of them.” she explains, trying to convey her ideas as clearly as possible.

“That would be a win-win, I think. We’d be getting to know each other while creating content for our project at the same time.” Soobin says. “Be ready for a lot of candid pictures though, I’ll be taking pictures of you like I’m paparazzi.” he jokes, pretending to hold a camera in his hands and clicking his fingers together.

“That’s gonna be hard for me since I’m really camera shy. I’ll feel like paparazzi taking pictures of you all the time, too.” she says, laughing.

Soobin scoffs softly. “Psh, you? Camera shy? You don’t seem shy at all.” he says. “I bet I’ll be able to get a lot of good photos of you for this project.”

B raises a brow. “Good luck with that. And yeah, I’m not really a shy person but everytime there’s a camera on me, I have a tendency to hide my face or look away.”

“Oh really? We’re opposite then, since I regard myself as shy but for some reason I’m fine with being on a stage or having my picture taken.” Soobin says.

“You? A shy person?” B says, looking him up and down. She shakes her head as she says, “I don’t believe it. I mean, you’re a giant so you automatically stand out in crowds, plus you’re the president of the student council, which doesn’t sound like something that a shy person would do.”

Soobin laughs at her analysis. “I mean I didn’t ask to grow this tall, and I’m fine with stuff like that, but it’s still a struggle for me sometimes. To talk to people and stuff.” he finishes a bit awkwardly. “If you don’t believe me, just ask Hyuka and the others.”

“Oh, I will.” B says skeptically. “Speaking of Hyuka and the others, I was thinking we could go grab a snack or something later after school? We could get started on our project, plus I’m sure Kai is curious to know how my first day of classes went, so I thought he and the others might want to come too.” B asks him. “I mean, only if you’re up for it.”

“Sure thing, we should start taking pictures as soon as possible so we’ll have a lot to choose from every week. Let me just ask the guys about it real quick.” Soobin says, whipping his phone out.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to be using your phone during class?” B whispers as Soobin puts his phone down.

“Everyone’s doing it, so…” Soobin shrugs. “And it’s settled, we’re going to Taehyun’s café later and the others are coming as well.”

“Oh wow, Taehyun has a café?” B asks, amazed.

Soobin nods. “Actually, it’s his family’s café but he helps around a lot, so we hang out there all the time. He works really hard, not just in school but outside of it as well, so he hates wasting his free time. It’s very admirable.”

“He sounds amazing.” B says, agreeing with Soobin.

Just then, Sir Kim approaches the 2 and says. “Hello Ms. Han, I hope you’re enjoying your time at MO Academy so far.”

B nods. “Yes, it’s an amazing school, I’m glad to be here. Thank you, Sir Kim.” she says, smiling brightly at him.

Sir Kim smiles and nods back before turning to Soobin. “That’s good. Now, Mr. Choi, I’m assuming that you and Ms. Han have been able to come up with a concept for your project? Would you mind giving me a brief outline?”

Soobin shares a look with B before he nods and smiles at Sir Kim. “Alright Sir, this is what we’ve come up with so far…”

•°•

“Okay, when you said we were all heading to the café together, for some reason, I thought we’d be walking.” B says, eyeing the big black vehicle parked close to the front steps of the school entrance.

Soobin scratches the back of his neck. “Well yeah we could walk, but walking there would take 15 minutes and driving there would only take 5, so…” he shrugs, and opens the passenger door for her. “Hop in?”

“But I called shotgun.” Kai whines, pouting. “I always sit shot gun.”

“Hush, let someone else have it, just this once. It’s her first day, after all.” Beomgyu says, dragging Kai with him into the back seat of the car with Taehyun following them.

“But I don’t like sitting at the back. It feels so crowded.” Kai continues to whine.

“It’s not crowded when it’s just Gyu, Yeonjun and I.” Taehyun remarks.

“…are you calling me fat?” Kai asks, while Beomgyu snickers.

“I mean, you can always sit in the back seat, Hyuka. My car can fit at least 7 people.” Soobin offers, shutting the passenger door and making his way over to the driver’s side.

Kai sighs, admitting defeat. “This is fine.”

“I’m actually not surprised that you have a car.” B says as they exit the school’s parking lot and head to the café. “It’s very convenient and I’m sure you’re more than capable of owning one. I should’ve asked my parents if I could have a car, or at least a bike. It would be so much easier than running to school everyday.”

“Did you run to school today, Baba? No offense, but you looked a bit flustered when we saw you this morning.” Kai asks.

“Yeah, I woke up late. I slept through 5 alarms.” B says, groaning. “I hope it doesn’t happen again tomorrow.”

Kai laughs out loud. “Why am I not surprised? You always were hard to wake up. I see you’re still a heavy sleeper. Do you live alone?”

B nods even though Kai probably couldn’t see her from the back seat. “Yeah, I convinced my parents to let me move into an apartment near the school. I’m surprised they actually agreed to it. I mean, you know how my parents are.”

“Ah, auntie and uncle still being overprotective?” Kai says knowingly.

“More like overbearing.” B says. “Thank god they let me transfer schools, too. I feel like for once in my life, I’m finally in charge.”

“I’m happy for you, Baba. You’ll have to fill me in on how you did it later.” Kai says, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder. B puts her hand over his and squeezes back. “Thanks, Ningning.” she says.

“Speaking of which, where do you live? If your plan is to walk to and from school everyday, then it must be pretty close.” Taehyun asks.

“Oh, it’s pretty near. It’s, oh-” B says, surprised when she looks out the window. “It’s actually that building right there, on the second floor.” she says, pointing to a building across the street.

The boys all turn to where she was pointing to while Soobin parks the car in front of the café. The building she was pointing to was right across the café.

“You live in that building right there?” Soobin asks, glancing along with the other boys.

“Yup, the second floor. Apartment 2B.” she says. “I chose it myself, made sure it was at a nice location and everything. Why do you all seem surprised?” she asks when she realizes that they were all staring at the building.

Taehyun laughs a bit shyly. “I actually live there too, with my parents and my older brother and sister. We’re in apartment 1D.”

“Oh wow, we’re neighbors! How do you get to school everyday? Maybe we could go together?” B asks excitedly.

“I usually just walk. And sure, I’d like that. Just make sure you’re out your door by 7 AM though, I’d rather have a relaxing walk than a panicked run on the way to school.” he says, half joking and half serious.

B laughs as she says. “Deal. I promise I’ll wake up on time. I just had a hard time waking up earlier today cause we had to be there earlier for the tour.”

As they step out of the car and head into the café, B looks at the interior. It was simple, spacious, and cozy. Even though there were several seats and different settings all along the interior, a lot of the seats were occupied. There was also a set of double glass doors that led into a small outdoor area with more seats. It was a nice café, and B could tell that it was frequently visited by students and workers alike.

“Hyunie, there you are! Quick, I saved you and your friends a table right here.” A woman says as she approaches the boys and gives Taehyun a quick kiss on the cheek. The boys smile and greet her.

“Thank you so much, auntie Kang.” Soobin says, giving her a quick peck on the cheek as he takes a seat. The other boys line up to follow suit.

“Oh hush now, no need to thank me. You boys are always welcome here. Speaking of, looks like you’re missing one? And you replaced him with a pretty girl!” Mrs. Kang says, opening her arms in B’s direction.

“Mom, this is B. She’s a childhood friend of Hyuka’s, and she just transferred to MOA.” Taehyun says, formally introducing B to his mom.

“Hello, Mrs. Kang. It’s really nice to meet you.” B says brightly.

“It’s nice to meet you too, dear. And it’s auntie Kang, to you.” Mrs. Kang says, pulling her in and giving her a quick peck on the cheek as she did with the boys. “It’s refreshing to see a girl around these boys.  A rose among the thorns. May I ask where Yeonjun is today, though? I’m sure those girls sitting in the corner are crushed to see you walk in here without him.”

B looks confused for a moment before she scans the café and spots the group of girls Mrs. Kang was referring to. There was a group of girls sitting at a table that kept stealing glances towards them. They were wearing a school uniform that looked unfamiliar to B, and when they caught her looking at them, they quickly looked away and started whispering amongst themselves.

“Wow, you boys. Your popularity knows no bounds.” B says, shaking her head as she takes a seat.

“It’s highly understandable dear, you can’t blame them. My Hyunnie and his friends are a handsome bunch.” Mrs. Kang says, ruffling the top of Taehyun’s hair. “I’m guessing you’re all having your usual?”

The boys all nod. “Thanks, Mrs. Kang. Let us know if you need any extra help.” Beomgyu says, smiling at her sweetly.

“You just stay put, sweetheart. I’ve got all the help I need.” Mrs. Kang says. “And what will you have, dear?” she asks, turning to B.

“Oh, I guess I’ll just have what Kai’s having?” she says, not really knowing what was available but trusting that Kai’s regular order would be good.

Mrs. Kang nods as the other boys snicker. “Coming right up! Hyunnie, meet you back there in a few?” she asks. Taehyun nods just as Mrs. Kang disappears behind the counter.

“This place looks amazing, Taehyun. And your mom is lovely.” B says as they all settle in.

“We come here every day for a reason!” Kai says, putting an arm around B’s shoulders. “Plus, their egg tarts are the best. They’re my favourite. I order 5 almost every time I come in here.”

B laughs as she realizes what she just ordered. “Are you telling me I’ve got 5 egg tarts coming up, too?”

The other boys laugh. “You could’ve looked at the menu first.” Soobin says pointedly.

“I know I know, but I trusted you!” B laughs, looking at Kai.

“Trust me when I say that you won’t be disappointed then. You’ll love the egg tarts, I promise.” Kai says reassuringly.

B is about to say something back to Kai just as she notices Soobin has his phone pointed in her direction. She quickly buries her face in Kai’s shoulder as she realizes that Soobin was taking a picture.

“Hey, don’t hide your face!” Soobin says. “That would’ve been such a good shot!” he says, pouting.

“Um, Soobin? What’s with the pictures?” Beomgyu asks.

B and Soobin share a look before Soobin answers. “B and I are partners for this project in our creative writing class.”

“Ooh, tell us more. And tell me, why do you have to take pictures of my dear best friend?” Kai says, squeezing B’s shoulders.

B laughs as she realizes he was being a bit protective. “It’s a bit weird, but okay. Soobin, you tell them.” she says.

And so he does.

•°•

“Thanks for walking me home. You know you didn’t have to.” B says as they climb up the stairs of the building.

“Anything for you, Baba. I want to be able that I was here for you all throughout your first day at MOA. Plus, I missed you and I don’t mind squeezing in a few extra moments of Baba and Ningning time.” Kai says as she leads him up the stairs. “And of course, I want to make sure that you get home safe.”

B laughs. “The café is right across the street, so you didn’t really have to worry about that.”

Kai scoffs. “I know, but still. It’s your first time living on your own, right? Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if auntie and uncle hired private security guards to watch over you from a distance.”

“That does sound like something they would do.” B says, a bit worried. “I mean it sounds creepy and a bit stalker-ish, but at least I know I’d be safe.” she says rationally.

Kai laughs. “That’s true. Letting you live on your own is a big step for them though, and you must feel pretty good about it too.”

B nods. “I feel free.” she says, letting out a sigh. “I still can’t believe they let me do it after everything that happened last year, but I think that’s also partly why they let me do it.”

There’s a moment of silence before Kai says “You know, you never really got to tell me the specifics of what happened. I mean, I know things were bad, but-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it soon. But this is my stop.” B says as they stop in front of a door labeled 2B. “When it’s just us two, and when we have loads of free time, I promise I’ll tell you all about it. I promise.” she says, when Kai looks hesitant to let it go.

Kai lets out a defeated sigh before saying “Fine, but we have to catch up soon. Maybe this weekend? You know my birthday’s coming up, right? Maybe we could do something then?”

B grins and says “How could I forget? And sure, anything you want. Do you wanna come in, by the way? You thirsty? Want anything?” she asks as she unlocks the door and opens it a crack.

Kai shakes his head. “I’m good for now, thanks. You should rest anyway, I’m sure it’s been a long day.”

“Thank you for walking me home, Ningning. And thanks for today. I couldn’t have asked for a better first day with a better best friend.” she says.

Kai smiles. “No problem, Baba. Anything for you. See you tomorrow!” he says, giving her a quick hug before turning around and leaving.

B enters her apartment and locks the door behind her. Just as she makes her way to her bedroom, her phone pings with a few notifications.

She smiles as she sees the messages from the boys. They had exchanged contacts details at the café, but she was surprised to see that even Yeonjun had sent her a message even though he didn’t get to hang out with them.

She and Soobin also set up new Instagram accounts to use for their creative writing project, but she was surprised to see that he posted something so soon. She makes a mental note to herself to check and reply to each boy’s message later, but first she checked the Instagram notification from Soobin.

She laughs when she sees Kai’s comment and wonders how he was able to see the post so fast. She then decides to like the post and leave a comment of her own.