#that plus Johnny is back with Forge…

[bakedbananners]

fauxbia needs a new host that’s preferably already a spectral, she has black spectral energy, and she’s controlling the sphinxes… guys I think she’s gonna try to possess max lol

[incomprehensi-bull]

hold on i just caught back up with paranatural after missing the last few updates cuz i don't check twitter anymore i'm gonna talk about it under the cut

first of all: being reminded of why i like johnny so much. i'm holding this little red delinquent in my hands in the same manner one would hold a baby bird. hang in there buddy it gets better

second of all:

mister puckett i have feelings for you

third of all: june.... she's like if sol badguy was a beautiful woman. i'm impressed by zack morrison's skill with foreshadowing that people have been theorycrafting about her and forge for YEARS before this.

on a serious note i'm fascinated by the themes of like... promises. particularly broken promises. there's so much talk of june's promises from people she knew, from she HERSELF, plus everything about her and the sphinx of vows. there's this undertone of like. tragic mystery i guess. of how we got from here,

to there.

y'know what i mean?

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

The Perfect Christmas Setting (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader)

Summary: It's officially your first Christmas with your boyfriend - long time coming - so you'll need an appropriately decorated house.

AN: I took part in a Secret Santa fic swap run by @bunnyreaper and my Secret Santa is @piratesfromspace! Hope you enjoy this fic that ignores MW3 to write my own canon and was kinda inspired by “Me and My Husband”.

Content warnings: 2nd person, some hurt/comfort, mostly domestic festivity

Masterlist

You had never invested so much of your paycheck into decorations. Tinsel, baubles, Santa statuettes, all in clashing colours and combinations, the Christmas paraphernalia were contained by several bags and sat now in your sitting room, brimming with as much cheer as you were with pride.

Johnny was teeming in the corner, arranging lights around the blue spruce you’d chosen as the main event in your household. Several photos of Johnny hauling it into his truck filled your phone, plus a video of him grumbling about how “the prickly bastard” kept poking him in the face, dangerously close to taking an eye out. You’d only known you were getting a tree for a few hours at that point. Johnny had woken you up early – the morning after his arrival from a lengthy excursion with work. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning as he told you about his old traditions, showing you a few old photos his sister had dug out of a family album. Then he proposed his idea for the rest of his leave: forging your own Christmas traditions for your first holiday together.

The transient nature of his job meant he’d seldom celebrated in his own home in the last decade. It wasn’t your first year as a couple either; unfortunately, your history with Christmas had been one of separation of many thousands of miles. Maybe, if you were lucky enough, you’d get a quick call with Johnny. But this year, you were your own family unit and able to celebrate Christmas on the actual date. That meant you could do whatever you wanted together, and what Johnny wanted was the full shebang.

Warm lights (the icy ones would be saved for decorating the house) displayed their varieties of settings whilst Johnny fidgeted with the dial, switching back and forth between flashing and . Meanwhile, you unpacked the tree trimmings, ranging from traditional red and golden orbs that reflected a cartoonish version of yourself in the glitter and glass, to a Colin the Caterpillar bauble that Johnny spied and subsequently adopted on your behalf.

You started hanging them up, humming along to the Christmas tunes, thankful that you’d talked Johnny out of going carolling. Meanwhile, he was squinting at the lights before he tugged at your sleeve.

“You don’t think there’s a weird gap here?” His hand waved vaguely around the torso of the tree.

“It’s grand,” You reassured him, rubbing between his shoulder blades as he bent in half to double check the spread of decorations up close. Attempting to match his focus was impossible but it was helping you ignore how he could be called away at any moment. That was the other hidden reason for going all out on the Christmas decorations: Johnny wanted this place to be as cosy and as Christmassy as it could be, like it would comfort you in the instance he wasn’t here. Part of you wished that his job could be as predictable as the so-called most wonderful time of the year. However, the rest of you accepted that it wasn’t and let you continue untangling the endless yards of tinsel to wrap around the banisters later.

Eventually, Johnny tired of peering at the lights and joined in organising where each bauble should go. You suppressed a few giggles whenever he moved a few around so that there was an even (ish) spread, no two decorations put near one another like divorced parents at a family reunion.  

“D’you think we should’ve gone with the silver and blue set? Might’ve looked more together, more on theme,” Johnny placed his hands on his hips, clearly conjuring up a variety of variations of what your sitting room could’ve been.

Instead of replying, you finished hanging up the red ceramic heart near the top. Then, from your back pocket, you withdrew and fixed a slightly-too-large Santa hat on his head, adjusting it by the snow white fur trim around his furrowed brow.

“You’d make one hell of a Sexy Santa,” You said when you were pleased with the outcome.

Johnny’s absorption in the festivities broke up in a smile, “Not got the beard for it yet.” And, to prove it, he wrapped his arm around you and forced you to endure his stubbled chin rubbed against your forehead. “Now answer my question please.”

“It looks great,” You insisted, “More personal, less IKEA showroom.”

“Don’t act like you don’t pretend to live in every showroom we come across.”

“That’s all pretend though. This is real, our first real Christmas.”

He kissed you, very sweetly, which didn’t prevent you snorting against his loving lips as you realised his suggestion of silver and blue decorations might have rendered your home appearing more Scottish that him. It struck you as quickly as your next train of thought, your body leaping out of Johnny’s embrace at the eureka moment.

“Oh! We haven’t even-” You and your voice faded down the hallway, words too muffled for even Johnny’s keen ears to decipher. He waited patiently for your return and was rewarded for his patience with you carrying the rest of the bags you just remembered existed, dragging them into the sitting room to complete the claustrophobic crowd of Christmas content.

“Darling, we said we’d wait until we finished the tree first!” Johnny said with no real exasperation in his voice.

“I can’t wait! Don’t make me!” You pleaded, as if you weren’t already opening the little reindeer statues to line up on the window sill. Johnny couldn’t deny you, not with how your face lit up brighter than any collection of bulbs covering your tree – like when he suggested ordering a twerking musical Santa toy. You clapped eagerly at his assent and began humming the opening to "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" whilst placing down each respective model along the ledge.

Just as you were placing Rudolph at the helm, the music came to a halt and the sound of a ringtone took over the speakers, accompanied by Johnny’s phone buzzing on the couch arm. Balancing on one leg as he reached over, his face went stiff and he began to make his way out of the room.

“One sec,” He said, bending down to bestow a kiss on your head as he went past.

Instantly, you connected your own phone to the speaker and turned up the music, knowing Johnny would go straight to his office for the duration of the call as to not be disturbed. But the nature of the call was already disturbing your fragile peace. Your stomach was swirling and promoting a greasy queasiness. Already clumsy enough, the circumstances made it harder for your hands to wedge the batteries into the glowing sleigh.  

Trying to tune in to the next song was impossible when there was a lull between the two songs. Your brewing panic took advantage of it and accelerated your noisy thoughts, hitting a crescendo with the footsteps returning to you in ominous timing with your sinking heartbeats.

At least you might have time to put the star on top of the tree together before he went.

“Everything ok?” It came out strained, and the first syllable caught in your throat.

As you looked to see Johnny nodding, you noted there was no bittersweetness hiding on his face.

“Yeah, Price just approved my annual leave. So no more work calls.” A flick of the wrist landed his phone squarely down the back of the couch cushion and retrieved from behind his back - “Ta-da!” – a vermilion and forest green elf hat that he arranged it upon your head before he took your tense body up and spun you to face the mirror over the fireplace.

“What do you think?” He spread his arms out as wide as his grin, glowing over your shoulder with his efforts (and also the ugly jumper he insisted on wearing), both of your reflections surrounded by countless bits of yuletide tat that you’d unpacked but not yet organised circling the half decorated tree. This elf hat likely wasn’t hard to hide a secret purchase amongst all of that. Bells tinkled softly by your ears as you tilted your head.

Effects of emotional whiplash took hold of you and the glowing sleigh dropped from your hands, spewing the three AAA batteries under the couch and into the tinsel pile. You locked yourself around Johnny’s middle with all the strength you could muster. Hard muscles beneath the gentle woollen caress of his jumper were solid enough to ground you back in your holiday paradise, his firm squeezes slowing your heart rate until it was at a regular pace again, his subtle cinnamon cologne (bought special for this time of year) thawing your fears in the hearth of his love for you. You only drew back to bop him on the nose with the bobble from his Santa hat and deliver your answer.

With his rosy cheeks close enough to warm your own, you whispered with teary eyes, “It’s perfect.”

[astridthevalkyrie]

cuz one day we’re going to talk about it how rushed keenry was and that robby still had feelings for sam when they decided to throw him with tory! even tanner was confused.

it's funny because come season 4 you gotta wonder if robby ever actually liked sam. they have little hints of sam missing him—her sitting in the yellow car where he had sat before, her repeating his words back to johnny about johnny being a drunk loser, actually trying to get him back to miyagi do, etc.. plus, as much as i roll my eyes at the scene, sam staring at him and tory during prom. even if she doesn't miss him as a boyfriend, she clearly misses his presence in her life. and even though the show wants to say she moved onto miguel immediately, she also wrote emails to robby and apparently went to the skate park everyday looking for him. bottom line, sam did care about robby, even if she didn't love him like she loved miguel.

meanwhile. and i like robby! but meanwhile. robby all but calls sam spoiled, implies she got with miguel the second he was arrested, doesn't email her back even after shawn isn't beating him up anymore, doesn't really have any moments post juvie of missing her, and robby, not tory, is the one to come up with the idea of going to prom to spite sam and miguel. like we have two instances of robby defending sam to tory, but he's not super convinced in either one and tory convinces him otherwise fairly easily. in s3, even, he's already interested in at least being friends with tory, who he knows attacked sam. and you can say it's well deserved when he just saw sam with miguel—but i'd argue there's a difference here. miguel never tried to kill robby. miguel also suffered severe consequences, and sam raising money/being friendly with her ex boyfriend who was just paralyzed is very different than robby forging a new friendship with someone whose actions literally led to him being in juvie.

but like, listen. spiteful bitchy robby rights. it's not that he dates tory, it's that, like i said, we see signs that sam actually misses him. we don't see signs that robby misses her. we can argue whether she deserves to be missed, but also, i think the showrunners just needed keenry to happen without any additional drama on that end. it's also why miguel and tory don't give a shit about each other anymore either. because keenry had to happen -> robby has no lingering feelings for sam and tory has no lingering feelings for miguel. on the flip side, to create drama, miguel and sam will look at them longingly during prom and sow discord amongst themselves. eyeroll.

even now, to be super honest, i don't see keenry's chemistry. i really don't get how it's the most popular of the core 4 relationships. it's too pair the spares, like the two of them are together because they had the misfortune of not being in the main couple and ofc no one can be left out of the relationship drama. i don't see what they have in common besides having crappy lives. i think the relationship is good for tory, but i don't see how it's good for robby.

[xxundeadfanboixx]

Darlings Ares!Johnny coming back one day and finding Cerberus guarding the forge. He knew that bastard Hades!Ghost had something for his husband! <Insert Ares!Johnny going to maim said dog, because Cerberus guards doors. No you will not be allowed into said forge.> And Hespheastus!Míchéal not even looking up.

'im dog sitting for Hades in exchange he's going to give me netherore for your next chest plate'

Insert round about question to, what pets would the guys get 😁

Imagine Ares!Johnny coming back after a long vicious battle, the kind that leaves him more tired than usual and he's got a few more scars glowing on his body. And all he wants, is to relax in Hephaestus!Míchéal's forge with him. The heat is a blessing to his sore muscles and aching bones, which is a nice plus to being in the presence of Hephaestus!Míchéal.

Only for him to find some three headed mutt resting outside of the door cock blocking him!

Oh our man is pissed and gonna be so sulky afterwards. He's a territorial man, he may be okay with sharing his toys, but when he says he wants his toy it better be given to him right away. It is to be in his arms at the beginning and end of the day.

As for your question about what pets I think the guys would have (+ pics)-

Price:

This may be controversial but I see him being a cat person, but specific short hairs or those hairless cats. He's allergic to long haired cats. He's the type of cat dad to call his baby 'a lil shit head' more than their actual name.

Gaz:

Like in this post I feel in my soul that Gaz is a guinea pig dad. As soon as he's able to, he's getting like five guinea pigs and just giving them the best life with a big yard all to themselves and lots of fresh veggies and fruits. <33 As much as he loves how cute American and Teddy piggies are, he has a special soft spot for long haired guinea pigs (specifically Peruvian and Lunkarya)

Ghost:

He is the type of pet person that is only a pet person for his specific pet. Like any other animal and he could care less about it, but if it's his? Then they suddenly mean the whole world to him. He's also the type of feed strays, he acts like he doesn't really care about them, but as soon as they stepped foot onto his property and he saw them looking so pathetic, he immediately became their new mother.

Soap:

He is a hound daddy through and through! Greyhound, Irish Wolfhound, Treeing Walked Coonhound, Bluetick Coonhound, ect. He has like three different separate hound breeds and wants to get two more.

((didn't know if you wanted my OCs as well, so I didn't add them, but if you do, just lemme know! ^^))

[hautsreadsmarvel]

“The Fantastic Four” (1963; issues 30-33, plus annual #2)

“The Dreaded Diablo!”

Not really an issue worth discussing in-depth.

The F4 accidentally unearth the ancient alchemist Diablo while lost in the Transylvanian wilderness.

Diablo “improves” the Thing’s appearance in exchange for service. Though Reed suspects something more sinister is going on, Ben is content to stay by Diablo’s side, so the rest of the team leave. Diablo’s “powerset” is to make potions with miraculous, but temporary, effects. He slips up in readministering the potion to the Thing, the Thing realizes Diablo is a phony, and the F4 get back together to seal him back in his crypt.

Diablo hired a private army from around the world, which I guess just disappears? And I guess he can't do alchemy in his crypt? Let's just pretend this issue doesn't exist.

“The Fantastic ‘Origin of Doctor Doom!’”

The cover poses a lot of questions, such as “is DOOM going to use his shrinking ray again?”, “are you sure you can let the villain win? The Comics Code Authority says that’s not allowed”, and “I thought you already told us his origin story”.

Wait holy shit this is the issue that introduces Latveria, and also what I’m pretty sure is THE definitive DOOM backstory. I’m going to stop snarking now.

Raised in a Romani caravan by his medicine-practicing father, Victor Von Doom learns to hate humanity after the local baron has his father killed for failing to save the life of his wife. He learns of sorcery and science from the possessions of his late mother, and uses his intellect to build contraptions that keep his people safe from retribution and steal the wealth of those he hates. An American professor hears of his fantastic machines (an early Doombot, ice grenades, devices that play fiddles by themselves, etc.) and gives him a scholarship. This is where he meets Reed. They don’t really interact much until the fateful day. Victor constructs a netherworld-contacting device, but sees no need to heed Reed’s warnings about some equations that are slightly off, causing it to explode. The explosion disfigures his face, he flees to Tibet and finds an order of sorcerous hermits, learns even more magic from them, has them forge armor for him (and he dons it while it still cools from the forge… awesome…), and yeah. That’s the origin of DOOM.

Cultural osmosis tells me that DOOM will later be established as trying to contact the netherworld in order to save the life of someone dear to him, but here it’s implicitly just something else to help him achieve world domination.

I do like even this version of his backstory, as it puts a lot of his Villain Decisions for Villain Reasons into context. For example, when he randomly exiled his three superpowered stooges to another dimension in his previous appearance, that was because he viewed all of them as being part of the wider world who drove his father to death and hounded his people from town to town.

Before we get into the real story, we get some one-page villain dedications, as well as some pinups for Alicia and each member of the F4. I like Thing’s the best*:

“The Final VICTORY of Dr. Doom!”

DOOM was last seen caught by a “solar wave” (a transient portal to outer space created by rare interactions between the Sun’s radiation and the Earth’s magnetic field) and is about to fall into the atmosphere of Jupiter when he is rescued by Rama-Tut, a time traveler who also had been defeated by the F4.

Now that makes no doggone sense. How would neither of you remember?

The two of them reach the same conclusion: one of them must survive, no matter what, so Rama-Tut sends DOOM back to Earth.

Oh yeah, they’re fucked. Everyone except for Reed ends up drinking a “special berry juice” while at the Latverian embassy, which enables DOOM to give them hallucinations of his own devising. Johnny hallucinates the Thing heckling him while he courts a countess, and Sue hallucinates Reed making out with other women and telling her to her face he just wants to fuck around.

Meanwhile, DOOM laments the loss of his face, his beautiful face. They keep not showing it, but I can’t imagine it’s somehow impossibly unsalvageable unless 1) magic is involved or 2) DOOM’s ego forbids him from fixing up his face. It’s probably the latter, since the sight of his own face causes him to lose control, and he shoots up the mirror, causing the F4 to snap out of their hallucination-induced free-for-all brawl and go investigate.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHH wait a minute. See, I want to defend Reed so bad here. He hasn’t exactly been my favorite character so far, but I was willing to say “hey, this is just the genderism of the people writing the mag and should not also be interpreted as part of Reed’s character”.

Well, nope. Funny wisecracks from the Thing aside, it turns out Reed’s fourth character trait (I’m not keeping track, but he’s been flat enough thus far that I know I can count ‘em on one human hand) is chauvinism. Interesting! The potential for Reed to be a really solid character is there. All the ingredients of the sauce are there. They just need to mix them. Maybe one day he’ll exhibit multiple character traits in the span of one issue.

The F4 battle DOOM, but Johnny gets taken out pretty quickly. I really like this. Johnny’s been stated to “reflexively” suppress his flame on certain parts of his body when touching others, but when he’s conked out in the flame state he obviously can’t turn it off.

Now, I’ll admit. I like Doctor Doom because obviously I know he becomes a very popular archvillain, and any time I skate past nerd fandom spaces on the internet I pick up some conversation about how hype he is. But now I really get it, absent preconceived biases. There’s so much gravitas and badassery in this two-panel segment, it feels like it should rupture the panel gutters. The fearless tussling with a super-strongman, the regal pose and gesture, the imperious one-liner.

He’s so… he’s so cool. Reed also gets badass points here for initiating the pre-battle drink, but this is mostly DOOM’s moment.

The resolution should be obvious at this point, by the way. Reed sussed out the hallucination juice early on, and DOOM knows Reed didn’t drink it, but somehow doesn’t suspect that Reed has spiked his drink with leftover hallucination juice. Genius-level intellect at work, folks; although I suppose this is really DOOM’s ego beating him, as he has repeatedly demonstrated in his origin story and this adventure that he really does think nothing of Reed’s intellect whatsoever. Drugged up, DOOM hallucinates that he has vanquished Reed for all time (always) and so saunters off into the sunset, having accomplished fuck-all.

“The Mad Menace of the Macabre Mole Man!”

Also unworthy of great detail. The Mole Man abducts Sue Storm, but critically misunderstands the psychology of the F4 and thinks holding her as hostage will get them to back down.

They do leave his domain at first… and they convince the Avengers not to attack the Mole Man as he sinks city blocks into the underworld… but this is just to buy time so Reed can cobble up a Sue-detector and for Johnny to bore a hole straight down to her prison. The action is fun, and convection is obviously not a big concern with Johnny's powers, but quick question: why does Mole Man, who wants to go to war with a world above him, not institute any defenses in his war prisons against approaches from above? It’s already very hard to take the Mole Man seriously, he doesn’t need to be stupid too.

They battle their way out, but Sue gets hit in the head with shrapnel and falls unconscious. At the hospital, the doctors say the operation is too dangerous to perform. Sue and Johnny’s dad shows up - we've never met him, but apparently he is a masterful surgeon - and saves her life. As it turns out he’s escaped from prison and allows himself to be caught again. His prison escape gets shown in a newspaper at the start of the story, but this ending is so out of the blue I can’t really feel anything about it. Can we maybe get more info about the elder Storm?

“Death of a Hero!”

Somehow, I find that dubious.

Ohhh maybe like figuratively. Yeah, I completely agree, Johnny. Wait nope, a few pages later they check in on him and he has amnesia from his de-Thingening, so Reed has to reverse it to restore his memory.

We get another shot of this alternative artstyle that premiered in the F4’s last journey to the Moon. It’s certainly eye-catching, but it can only really be used for shots like this. Can you imagine how jarring it would look as a background for the F4 in their normal artstyle?

Thankfully, this issue gives us proper context and backstory about Johnny and Sue’s dad (just in time for an alien to emerge from the ray’s point of impact, take Papa Storm’s form, and banish him to the “fifth quadrant” of the Andromeda galaxy). He lost his wife in a driving accident, and unable to save her despite his awesome medical skills, he became a depressed gambler. Eventually, he took on one too many loans from shady folks, got into an altercation with the loan collector, and in the scuffle accidentally shot someone else with a pistol, hence his jail time.

Anyways back to the main story. The raylien is pretty obviously the/a Super-Skrull (hinted at not just by his powers, but also that line about the Andromeda galaxy, which I think was also mentioned in relation to the Skrull species when he last showed up). He does pyrokinesis, super-strength, shape-shifting, invisibility, even Sue's newer forcefield application of her power.

Incredibly cursed. I point out Reedball every time it occurs, but there’s a certain charm to “ball with a face” that this lacks. This is like the opposite of Reedball. I can’t stop looking at it, possibly to my detriment.

The F4, believing the Super-Skrull to be Papa Storm, are unwilling to actually hurt him, so he defeats them all and walks away. Moreover, in the aftermath, he goes on a destructive crime spree, and the public becomes critical of the F4 for having held back against him.

Reed’s clearly figured out that they’re actually up against the Super-Skrull and just won’t spend ten seconds to tell the others what he knows, and he intermittently dunks on other people long after being minorly irritated by them - multiple character traits in the span of one issue! It’s happening! They’re starting to cook with Reed! (Just don’t make him go springform again, please)

In their next confrontation, Reed unveils the Super-Skrull’s identity. Untrusting that one Skrull can beat four Fantastics, the Skrull government agrees to facilitate a prisoner exchange.

Also Reed invented an intergalactic nuclear bombardment gizmo (I don't want to set the world on fire/I just want to start/a flame in your heart). Fucking hell. I mean the other inventions he made are cool, but what the fuck is that.

Oh. I actually wasn’t expecting there to be a death in this story, in part because of the CCA’s aversion to depictions of serious bodily harm, but mostly because the most outrageous titles of the Marvel comics so far have usually been bait. He at least lives long enough to give an emotional pre-mortem speech, although that begs the question of how a beam whose full output was insufficient to render a regular human being unconscious at point-blank was expected to do more than tickle any of our four particularly energy-resistant heroes.

Another solid issue from the F4. As with last issue, I wish we had gotten more time with Storm senior, but for his limited panel time they did good with him.

“Side-by-side with Sub-Mariner!”

Lady Dorma of Atlantis seeks out the F4 to help Namor. As she tells it, Namor came back to his kingdom again (maybe there should be a “Namor parts with Atlantis” counter), just in time for it to fall under attack by a horde of other homo mermanus led by Attuma, who is just as strong as Namor. I can’t quite pin it down, but something about the way her tale is presented makes her seem trustworthy even from an audience perspective. The F4 agree to help, and Reed douses everyone in “oxo-spray” to let them breathe underwater for hours. The Thing compares its smell to DDT, and after all the asbestos and actual DDT being thrown around in these comics, it wouldn’t surprise me if oxo-spray turned out to be toxic, too.

Ooh, another one of these shots.

Reed gets to show off some cool power uses, such as doing the 4 with his arm since their flare guns presumably don’t work underwater.

Namor is a bitter enemy of the F4 at this point, so while he duels Attuma for the throne, they have to sneak around and disable the underhanded tricks Attuma has devised to advantage himself against the Sub-Mariner. Sue contains a fatigue-inducing sonic weapon in a force bubble, causing it to fire on itself; the Thing mashes up a ray cannon; Reed catches a titanium wire net with his body and wraps it around Attuma’s soldiers; and the Torch uses up most of his oxygen to destroy the command terminal for a “nuclear dissolvo-bomb” launch.

And then Sue exerts too much turning Namor invisible, saving him from Attuma’s disintegration beam weapon but also going thin on air. And then Reed and the Thing starts to run out of air too.

As the F4 beat it back to the surface, their help proves sufficient for Namor to finally defeat Attuma. We get some self-awareness from Namor - something I was not certain he possessed the capacity for - and we stay stalled on the love triangle, but I hardly mind it in its current barely-extant configuration.

[scraregenrecs]

SC Tropefest Fest Rareships/Gen Roundup!

There were so many rare and gen fics in @sctropefest – 26 to be exact, or 31.91% of the total works! We've compiled them here for your reading pleasure, and also spotlighted some honorable mentions at the very end that were primarily David/Patrick, but featured rare sideplots. Happy reading!

A Whole Lot To Gain by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Ted/Alexis, Alexis & David, Patrick & Alexis (background David/Patrick), G, 1,721 words

A story about identity, gender, and coming out.

and my task’s but begun by treepyful, Twyla & her mother, T, 16,109 words

Twyla was seven years old and missing a front tooth when her father left.

A look into Twyla's stories.

Budd is a dud! Vote Sands. by samwhambam, Stevie/Twyla, T, 7,718 words

Her and Twyla are friends. Not great friends. But friends who get high together at parties and have known each other for a long time. And up until right now, she thought they were better friends than a shitty, mean campaign slogan.

The enemies to lovers fic where Stevie and Twyla are both running for the same seat on town council.

(but if baby, i'm the bottom) you're the top by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, E, 3,681 words

Alexis knows what people assume about them.

They see Twyla's bright café smile at work, and listen to how readily she agrees to whatever her customers want. They watch how Twyla hangs back during get-togethers, freeing up room for Alexis to take the spotlight and captivate the crowd. They notice how Alexis towers over Twyla in her heels, and how she's always one step ahead of her steady, cautious girlfriend.

But they don't know what it's like when they're together.

OR: Five times Twyla tops Alexis, and one time she lets Alexis top her.

Captive on the carousel of time by designatedgrape, Stevie/Twyla, Gwen & Twyla (background David/Patrick), T, 11,156 words

The predictability of Schitt’s Creek and the routines of the people who live here have always been a comfort to Twyla. In a life that has been full of uncertainty, she appreciates that there are things she can always count on. So when Jocelyn walks in at 3:07, it isn’t a surprise. At least, not at first.

“What can I get for you, Jocelyn?”

“Oh, I think I’m going to need an extra-large coffee to get through the rest of the day, Twyla. I’m headed right back over to the school to set up for tonight.”

Twyla nods and turns to start making Jocelyn’s coffee. “What’s tonight?”

“Graduation.”

Twyla pauses and looks back at Jocelyn. “Um, I think you might be a little confused. Graduation was last night.”

come home to my heart by davidbrewer, Ted/Alexis, G, 1,822 words

“Oh, my god — Ted?”

Her own voice echoes in her ears and she’s suddenly standing, dumbfounded, outside Cafe Tropical almost seven years ago. Watching Ted step into the bistro felt eerily similar to watching him step off that motorcycle for the first time. It’s the kind of shock that makes the sparkling restaurant tile quake under her Louboutins.

Except, this time, the feelings bubbling to her chest are now far more nuanced than she knows how to process — no amount of personal growth or number of self-care retreats with Oprah could’ve prepared her to suddenly come face-to-face with the first person she ever loved more than herself.

OR: Alexis has a blind date. It's not what she EX-pected.

Deadpool Strikes Back! How One Merc For Hire Sticks It to an Army of Goons, One Annoying Narrator, and The Worst Villain of All: Self-Doubt by doingthemost, Stevie/Ruth, T, 1,340 words

WAZZUP!?@ 🤯 If you're reading this, you're probably thinking, "What the hell? Stevie's Deadpool?!"

The answer's YES! 🤗 And she's pissed, and not just 'cause a bunch of goons hijacked her girlfriend. 🤬 No: the worst thing of all is the narrator she has to deal with all along the way. 🤡 Buckle up, buckos, it's a bumpy ride!

AND DON'T FORGET TO LISTEN TO THE PODFIC!! AND OOH, DID I MENTION THERE'S ART?!

didn’t ask for this--you freely gave it (so now i watch your mouth for both of us) by Yellow_Bird_On_Richland, Alexis/Twyla, T, 6,371 words

Alexis chops her name down to three letters like it's nothing.

Twyla thinks about it a lot.

everyday the hold is getting tighter (and it troubles me so) by budd, Stevie/Ruth, M, 1,228 words

Stevie and Ruth end up sharing the last bed at the newest addition to Rosebud Motel Group.

Gonna Watch You Shine by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Johnny & Stevie, G, 1,127 words

Found Family Feelings: The Johnny & Stevie edition.

heaven is a place not too far away by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, Ted/Alexis (Previous), Alexis/Mutt (Previous), Alexis & David, Alexis & Moira (background David/Patrick), T, 8,267 words

"Oh, but soulmate marks are real." Her mother's expression softens. "Always one-sided, unfortunately. So difficult to know when you've truly met your soulmate without a matching indicator on the part of the other person, or other persons, if you're following." Her mother winks, and Alexis makes a face. "Your father was the exact same way. The poor little lamb couldn't carry a tune until he met me!"

"So you and Dad..." Alexis' head is spinning. "You guys are, like, actual soulmates."

"Very much so." Her mother appraises her carefully. "And you must have met yours, too."

"Yeah." Alexis blinks, stunned to find that she's short of breath. "I guess so."

OR: Alexis' soulmate mark – the ability to sing – triggers when she moves to Schitt's Creek.

i always felt i must look better in the rear view by davidbrewer, Alexis & David, Alexis/Twyla, David/Patrick, Alexis & David & Johnny & Moira, T, 13,152 words

“I have everything I need right here,” Twyla says, and something very fond stirs in Alexis’s chest. “I don’t need to wish for anything else. But you… You have big dreams, Alexis, and… If anyone deserves to have their wishes come true, it’s you. I want you to have it.”

OR: When her family's past stands in the way of a career opportunity, Alexis makes a wish that completely upends their lives all over again... but is it really what she wants?

If Hell Had a Creek by High-Seas-Swan, sonlali, sunlightsymphony, Gen, T, 9,139 words

After losing everything, the Roses are forced to move to their only remaining asset, the town of Schitt's Creek. Also, the town is on the Hellmouth, and Alexis is the Slayer.

If You Could See The Other Side Of Me by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Stevie/Alexis, Stevie & David (background David/Patrick) T, 3,473 words

Stevie has a teeny, tiny little celebrity crush.

It doesn't mean anything.

In The Running by floosilver8, Stevie/Twyla, M, 3,587 words

Stevie and Twyla run against each other for Town Council.

No Dress Rehearsals by kindofspecificstore, Patrick & Ted, Patrick/Rachel, Miguel/Ted, Patrick/David, G, 3,770 words

Life Happens to Ted and Patrick, and music is one of the things that helps them through it. Discovering a mutual love for the Tragically Hip forges a kind of friendship neither of them had before.

Or, just two boys talking about their feelings in a Tim Horton's parking lot.

putting roots in my dreamland by lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, G, 4,078 words

“Are roses your favorite flower?” Twyla asks, setting it down.

“Mm, no, but they’re kind of my brand?” she says, picking it up to snap a picture on her phone. “And as cute as it would be to have a peony in my logo, my company isn’t named ‘Alexis Peony Communications.”

“So, Alexis...Rose?” Twyla puts together, the name sounding vaguely familiar. Alexis nods, taking a photo at a different angle. “Well, I’m Twyla. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Twyla,” Alexis says slowly. Twyla loves the sound of her name in Alexis’s voice. “Nice to meet you.”

--

a twylexis flowershop au

Rollin’ With the Homies by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, Stevie/Ruth, Ted/Miguel (background David/Patrick), T, 9,917 words

So I know it seems like I live in this, like, super privileged world. Or maybe, like, a rip-off of The O.C. – or even worse, Laguna Beach, ugh! But I swear, I have a totally normal life!

Alexis Rose is just your totally average 16 year old with two annoying older siblings, David and Stevie, and a totally normal crush on her best friend, Twyla Sands. It's completely chill. She isn't, like, totally buggin'.

AKA: the Clueless AU.

Taste of a Poison Paradise by lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, M, 15,107 words

“Where have you been?” Stevie yells, kicking someone in the face and sending them over the railing.

“Stealing fireworks,” Rachel grunts, grabbing a stray piece of pipe off of the floor and bringing another one of them to their knees before delivering a swift roundhouse kick to their face.

“Oooh, these are fireworks?” Alexis grins with a small shimmy. “Love that for us.”

Green vines encircle the railings and Twyla jumps over it a second later. “I got the cane plus some other stuff,” she says, tossing it and another bag to Alexis and wrapping one of the ones around a guy trying to climb the railing to get up to them, dropping him onto the floor. “Let’s go.”

--

Be gay, do crimes but make it a Harley Quinn AU

The Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch by Amanita_Fierce, dairaliz, danieljradcliffe, DelilahMcMuffin, doingthemost, fairmanor, fishyspots, foxtails, GodOfLaundryBaskets, hagface, High-Seas-Swan (FangLang), hullomoon, Januarium, KiwianaPods (kiwiana), middyblue (daisyblaine), nontoxic, RhetoricalQuestions, roguebaby, schittposting, ships_to_sail, singsongsung, SparklesMagicLightLove, sunlightsymphony, thetomkatwholived, yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana), Alexis/Twyla, Jake/Rachel, Ted/Miguel, Stevie/Ruth, David/Patrick, M, 26,226 words

Hello, I am Wendy Kurtz, proprietor of the Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch, the world’s premier spot for couples looking to get a speedy divorce and connect with other soon-to-be divorcees.

I’d like to highlight the stories of five couples, who rearranged into five other couples, from some past summer. These ten people came to the Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch with the intention of ending a marriage, and got that and so much more.

I could recount their journeys with 100% accuracy, but where’s the fun in that? Let’s let them tell us themselves.

OR: One crazy summer in Las Vegas brings the heat and then some.

The Devil’s Work is Never Done by doingthemost and schittposting, Alexis or Stevie or Twyla/Reader, Gen, 68 words

If you were faced with temptation, what would you do?

The Guestbook of David and Patrick Rose-Brewer, by sonlali, Gen, T, 900 words

“A home isn't always the house we live in. It's also the people we choose to surround ourselves with.” — The House in the Cerulean Sea

A look through the entries in David and Patrick's wedding guestbook

Through Someone Else’s Eyes by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Alexis & David, T, 1,351 words

It's all Mr Hockley's fault.

The tea was supposed to get him high, not make him wake up in his sister's body.

To the end of the reckoning by dinnfameron, Patrick & Ronnie, T, 1,308 words

He should get David a coffee. He could deliver it to the motel, see how he’s doing. His arm is raised halfway to flag Twyla down when he catches himself. David doesn’t want to see him right now. He may never want to see Patrick ever again. The thought makes him sick.

“Brewer.” Patrick turns at the sound of his name. There aren’t many people in this town who call him that, and sure enough, there’s Ronnie Lee at a table near the front. He’d missed her, somehow.

“You look like shit,” she says.

[art] you know what they say: better late than never by budd, Alexis/Twyla, G, 274 words

While unpacking her boxes to move into Alexis' apartment in New York City, Twyla finds a stash of her old business cards from when she wrote a column for young members of the LGBTQIA+ community in The Advocate.

You’d be the love of my life by doingthemost and sonlali, Alexis/Twyla, M, 6,650 words

Alexis needs a date to a last-minute Interflix party on Valentine's Day so she can make Zac Efron jealous. Naturally, she asks her best friend and crush, Twyla, to pretend to be her girlfriend for the event. What could possibly go wrong?

BONUS CONTENT:

We wanted to also highlight some fics that are David/Patrick centric, but also include a rarepair side plot! These could be a great place to start for those who haven’t dipped their toe into rarepairs yet, but are intrigued by the idea.

I Waited My Whole Life by agoodperson, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, T, 23,402 words

David is just going to have to come up with something, because there is just no way that he can let Patrick Brewer catch him going to another of the town's many weddings on his own.

Wheel of Fortune: New York Edition! by middyblue, David/Patrick and Alexis/Twyla, T, 10,521 words

Patrick spends his evenings with his new roommate Stevie watching NY1's Wheel of Fortune spin-off hosted by Johnny and David Rose, until one day he accidentally bumps into David Rose himself on the train and starts to fill in some of the blank spaces in his life.

You Happened by lilythesilly, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, T, 54,271 words

David Rose is many things: talented, creative, fashion-forward, well read—the list can go on, but at the very top of that list is Extremely Rich. So he doesn’t understand why his father is making him work at Rose Video—or why Patrick Brewer, a boy he's had virtually no interaction with since they were twelve, is suddenly always around.

An enemies-to-coworkers-to-friends-to-lovers high school au.

You Look Like a Movie, You Sound Like a Song by fishyspots, E, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, 18,683 words

David has often wished, at first seriously and then more cynically as he grew older, that his life was a rom com. It takes longer than he'd like, frankly, but the universe calls his bluff.

You’re the star at the top of my tree by schittposting, T, David/Patrick and Alexis/Twyla, 10,392 words

Patrick Brewer comes to Schitt's Creek with a goal: drive Rose Apothecary out of business so Christmas World can take over its space. He's not counting on falling for its owner.

Happy reading friends! x

[papermoonloveslucy]

ANN-MARGRET

April 28, 1941

Ann-Margret Olsson was born in Stockholm, Sweden. The family moved back to Valsjöbyn, Jämtland a small town of she later described as one full of "lumberjacks and farmers high up near the Arctic Circle".

Ann-Margret and her mother joined her father in the United States in November 1946, and her father took her to Radio City Music Hall on the day they arrived. They settled in Wilmette, Illinois, outside of Chicago. She became a naturalized American citizen in 1949. 

She made her small screen debut on “Ted Mack and the Original Amateur Hour” on December 22, 1957. 

Her feature film acting debut came in 1961′s Pocketful of Miracles starring Bette Davis and Glenn Ford, directed by Frank Capra. “Here’s Lucy” parodied the film in a 1972 episode titled “Dirty Gertie” (HL S5;E10).  Ann-Margret followed up with the critically acclaimed film musicals State Fair and Bye Bye Birdie.  She was nominated for Oscars for Carnal Knowledge (1971) and Tommy (1975). 

Lucille Ball and Ann-Margret were together for the first time on “The Tonight Show” on November 26, 1968.  Peter Lawford sat in for Johnny Carson.  

Three months later, Ann-Margret and Lucy would both participate in “Jack Benny’s Birthday Special” (February 17, 1969).  The announcer’s opening credit for Ann-Margret is “as the Valentine Girl.”  Ann-Margaret had been a guest on “The Jack Benny Program” on April 2, 1961. In December 1968, Jack Benny guest starred on “The Ann-Margret Show.”

On December 6, 1969, Lucille Ball guest-starred on “Ann-Margret: From Hollywood with Love” on CBS.  Ball played herself and a character named Celebrity Lu, an autograph hound, opposite Autograph Annie (Ann-Margret). The scene culminates in a musical number. 

In return, Ann-Margret guest-starred as herself on “Here’s Lucy” on February 2, 1970. 

Ball satisfied her son’s adoration of Ann-Margret by having the script focus on Craig (Desi Arnaz Jr.) and his musical talent. 

In November 1970, Lucy and Ann-Margret joined John Wayne for a patriotic special titled “Swing Out, Sweet Land” in which Ann-Margret played an entertainer at Valley Forge, and Lucy provided the voice of The Statue of Liberty. They did not share any scenes. 

Lucille and Ann-Margret both played a part in a retrospect of Bob Hope’s first 30 years on TV, along with Milton Berle, Danny Thomas, George Burns, Glen Campbell, Sammy Davis Jr., Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Eydie Gorme, Steve Lawrence, Marie Osmond, Martha Raye, Brooke Shields, and many others. 

In 1985, Lucille Ball, Lucie Arnaz, and Ann-Margret (plus 97 others) were part of “Night of 100 Stars 2″.  Ann-Margret modeled a golden Emanuel gown. 

In 1988, Lucille Ball and Ann-Margret made their final appearance on the same program in “America’s Tribute To Bob Hope”. 

In 2010, Ann-Margret won her first Emmy Award for her guest appearance on “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.”

Her latest project is titled the feature film comedy Queen Bees. 

[realllllfangirllllll]

Beyond Lovers || Chp.4

{More Than Friends Sequel}

Masterlist

Chairman!Jaehyun AU x CEO!Reader AU

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the former CEO after overcoming your fear of love. Although there were rough patches, both of you are now stronger than ever. However, you realize that maintaining a relationship and a company at the same time can be very difficult, especially if someone is out to destroy the both of you.

{ Previous / Next }

You were in awe as you walked through the building that was now lit up with purple, pink, and blue neon lights. It seemed it was only yesterday that Jaehyun proposed to have you as NCT’s CEO. You blindly accepted his offer not knowing how stressful it would be to weigh both online college and a company on your shoulders. Your eyes have almost gone blind from staring at a computer all day. From doing online courses to mapping out designs and promotions for NCT. You wouldn’t have been able to get through even half of it if your friends weren’t there to support you.

For the past few weeks, Soyeon and Mark have stayed up at the crack of dawn studying with you in hopes of finishing the courses required for the three of you to graduate on time. It’d be an understatement to say that the workload is difficult. At times, you even considered going back to college to learn face to face with a professor. However, Soyeon and Mark have always toughed it out and helped to make sure the three of you had the time for NCT.

When you have finished the crazy college workload for the day, you were faced with another workload from NCT. Photoshoots, coordinating, and managing the company left you absolutely no time to relax. You were just thankful your friends were suffering along with you. Soyeon, Soojin, Lucas, Winwin, and Ten were the models of the company. Since they were already professionals, half of the stress was taken away from you, not to mention that Ten’s ability to design saved the company so much time and money. Photoshoots also go smoothly with their professional opinions for improvements. On the other hand, Mark and Johnny were of great help behind the scenes. Mark was in charge of contacting future partners and other human resource duties while Johnny and you took charge of photography and video contents. The whole company was surprised, except for you and Jaehyun, that Johnny decided to retire from modeling. You and Jaehyun have always known Johnny’s passion and skill for photography. Plus, Jaehyun has always told you how guilty he felt to have made Johnny model with a “playboy” image back in SM. Taking both their thoughts into consideration, you used NCT as the perfect opportunity to settle both their concerns and wishes.

You walked through the crowded building remembering the countless nights the nine of you spent decorating and making the building look like what you all have envisioned for it to be: a place of creative freedom and a place that held no boundaries nor anyone to force a fake image upon others. With a big smile on your face, you greeted the people who congratulated you and had small talks with the guests of tonight’s grand opening event. You saw your friends enjoying their time eating, taking pictures, and just happily talking to other people. An ooze of happiness burst from inside of you. Although it was beyond difficult to start the company you and Jaehyun dreamed about, the endless efforts the nine of you put in resulted in a great outcome. 

You scanned around the room and stopped when you saw a particularly well-dressed man staring back at you with a bright smile on his face. Returning the smile, you subtly motioned for him to come.

“Hey there beautiful stranger,” the husky voice said.

You rolled your eyes at him as he wrapped his long arms around your waist. He stared at you lovingly and dove forward for a long kiss. 

Pulling apart, he said in a breathless whisper, “Congratulations Ms. CEO, this all happened because of you.”

Giving him a quick peck, you smiled and whispered next to his ears, “Well aren’t you lucky to be dating her.”

Smiling with his dimples exposed, Jaehyun tucked your hair behind your ears and gazed at you with loving eyes. “I sure am.”

Suddenly, you heard a buzzing sound in his pocket as he walked away to answer the call. You weren’t sure if it was because of the strobe lights or if you were just imagining things, but you saw a slight change in Jaehyun’s eyes. He seemed angry at first, maybe even furious, but when he made eye contact with you, his bright smile returned. You quickly brushed aside the doubtful feeling and walked toward him. 

Gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, you asked him softly, “Everything alright?”

With a light chuckle, he grabbed your hand and placed them beside him. As to assure you, he rubbed soft circles into the back of your hand and said, “I just got a call from our collaboration’s department chief. There were some problems with the contract.”

Pouting, you asked him, “So you have to go? I didn’t even do my welcoming speech yet.”

Jaehyun chuckled, pinching your cheek lightly, “I’ll see my famous girlfriend on youtube later. I know you’ll do great, but don’t forget to mention the handsome man who funded this whole project.”

You scoffed as he gave you a wink and started heading towards the exit. You saw him grab a glass of champagne before waving goodbye to you, disappearing into the elevator.

Sighing, you, too, took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and gulped it down. You tried to calm your nerves as you gave yourself a mental pep talk. Truth be told, you were a nervous wreck on the inside even though you seemed poised and calm on the exterior. Memorizing your speech wasn’t the difficult part, after all, you planned to speak your immediate thoughts instead of drafting out a speech. This way, the people will understand your genuine appreciation toward them and the company. However, what made you break down with anxiety was the gossip and drama that surrounded you in the past. Although your dating scandal with Jaehyun became less of an interest to the public, there were still many people who doubted you and the position you carry. It took you a lot to fight down your insecurities to even get dressed for the event and show up. You didn’t want to disappoint your friends who all counted on you, so you shallowed down your fears and dragged yourself to the event with forged confidence, hoping nobody will notice your nervous breakdown.

You felt someone lightly wrap their arm around your neck and you turned around to see Soojin. Your best friend gave you an assuring smile and told you, “It’s going to be ok y/n. If anything happens, which it won’t, you have the eight of us to back you up.”

You returned a forced smile and replied, “It’s seven now.”

Looking at you with confusion, she asked, “Seven? Who left?”

“Jaehyun did. He had to deal with one of the department chiefs.”

“Tsk tsk Leaving his girlfriend on one of her most nerve-wracking nights. What a shame,” she shook her head and looked at you with a straight face, “I disapprove.”

You chuckled and lightly shoved her, “Shut up Soojin. He wouldn’t leave me if he saw how nervous I am. Plus, he has important business to attend to. It’ll determine all nine of our futures.”

Raising her arms up in defeat, she said, “Fine, fine. I’m just salty he took my beautiful girlfriend from me.”

You saw her pout as she leaned closer to you, and you pressed your hand on top of her mouth, shoving her away. “Please, you had countless boyfriends and now you try to claim I’m yours?” You looked at her with fake shock, “How dare you! You cheater!”

You both laugh, feeling better already that Soojin was there to shake off your nerves. Soon after, you saw the rest of your friends come over, encouraging you that you’ll do fine. You must say, it was nice to always have the seven of them by your side. Everything felt like it was in place as long as you and your friends were together, indifferent to the media, dramas, and gossips that could easily separate you all.

“Please give a round of applause for NCT’s very own CEO, y/n y/l/n!”

A roar of applause was heard through the neon-lit floor and you felt your nerves rising. Giving a small smile, you walked to the front of the podium as gracefully as you could. 

Taking a deep inhale, you let out your words loud and confidently, “Thank you for the warm welcome! I am so pleased to finally introduce to you, NCT.” Another round of applause stroke and a few cheers were heard. “Our company has been working endlessly to introduce to you all our wonderful models and designs. I would like to first, thank all of our NCT models for bringing this collection to life: Soyeon, Lucas, Soojin, Ten and Winwin,” through your anxious eyes, you saw your five friends waving to the crowd. You gave them a warm smile and continued, “These models are the center of NCT and my most precious friends. Please give them your utmost love and support.”

You continued through your speech with no mistakes and applauses were heard throughout the room. You started to feel at ease as you finished your speech with the words you wanted to say the most, “Last but not least, I would like to thank this one very special person. He has been the light of my life and the most supportive and helpful person to both me and NCT. Unfortunately, he had some matters to attend to so he won’t be here to introduce himself and talk to you all. Nonetheless, I would like to thank Jaehyun with the bottom of my heart. I love you and will continue to lo-”

A cold liquid flowing down your head caused you to freeze before you can finish your sentence. You tried continuing to speak but your eyes started to see red paint drip down from your hair to your face. You felt the crowd’s eyes stare at you as more paint fell down your body. Suddenly, you heard a few people push their way to the front of the crowd and curse at you.

“‘Love’ my ass!”

“Nice way to kiss your way up to the top!!”

“You’re nothing but a slut!”

Once again, fear and anxiety took over you. You didn’t know what else to do but stand there dumbfounded. No matter how hard you tried to muster up your courage to speak, nothing came out. The people just continued to shout threats and throw all sorts of foods at you. The room started spinning and your vision started to get blurry. You saw a swarm of security running towards the shouting people and Mark coming up beside you to call an end to the event. Just as you were about to lose yourself and fall to the ground, Johnny caught you by the waist.

You heard him whisper by your ears, “Hold it in, stay composed. Don’t let these idiots see you fall.”

Johnny’s words made you get a hold onto reality a little better as you stand up straight, acting as if nothing was wrong. You clutch onto his arms as the both of you walk towards the exit behind the backdrop.

———

• Sorry I’ve been MIA & S U F F E R I N G •

• I have too much work and I’m just a tiny girl so pls have mercy on me 🤕 •

• I’m also hella frustrated bc my card charged me for SuperM albums but I couldn’t place my order on the website like wtf does that even make sense to u •

• ANYWAYS HOW WAS JOPPING YALL LEMME HEAR UR REACTIONS •

• STREAM JOPPING 💎 •

[cottonblush]

excalibur | ljn

❧ word count: 10,079

❧ genre: fluff because that’s literally all i know how to write lmao

❧ notes: the way that jeno is so pure and precious i couldn’t stop smiling when i wrote this,,, ugh HIS POWER! once again, tysm kp for the feedback! i hope this version is a lot better:)

❧ moodboard

The heat of the forge is something that used to bother you, but after spending almost a decade at Ulric’s Forge, your skin has developed into a shield of sorts. The heat of the thousand-degree flame no longer dries out your eyes and you can proudly say the sparks that fly off the forge feel no stronger than a bug bite. Over the years, you’ve developed into a strong and independent woman, or as strong and independent as a woman could get in such medieval times. You’ve gained the respect of most of the men at the forge, though it took walking into a sleeping dragon’s lair to convince the oldest blacksmith, Cedric, that you’re tough enough to make it at Ulric’s. The whole ordeal was worth it because not only did you gain respect, but also a family. The guys at the forge are people you can trust with your life, people who have your back. A specific instance is when your single father passed away during one of the many wars that swept the nation. You were only ten years old at the time, but your father worked at the forge and no one hesitated to bring you in and teach you the trade.

Speaking of which, your specialty is swords. You’ve always been fascinated with them and figure that if you could keep on developing better weapons, people would be able to defend themselves better and fewer people would die; fewer children would be left without their fathers. You’ve slowly amassed a reputation for making quite strong and dependable swords as well as new types of swords. You’ve actually been testing out designs for a curved sword and are currently working on one, hand repeatedly striking hot iron, when you’re interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You look up from your work, eyes traveling across the figure standing in front of you. The young man, Na Jaemin, is a famous sorcerer who holds a lot of power in the kingdom. He also happens to be a close friend since birth. He’s squinting due to the immense heat coming from the burning coal, but even then you can see his pleading eyes and you can tell he’s about to ask you for a troublesome favor.

Your premonition is correct as Jaemin is asking you to make him a sword mere seconds later. It needs to be perfect, he says; if possible, it needs to be more than perfect. The weapon needs to be made out of the most durable material and has to be able to cut straight through stone. When you ask who it’s for⁠— Jaemin has never even touched a sword in his life and doesn’t plan on it since he fights with his “superior magical prowess"⁠— you’re told that the sword will be for the new king. Instantly, your brain comes up with a barrage of questions. Has the new king already been selected? Why do you have to be the one to make it? And realistically speaking, couldn’t Jaemin just conjure up one in the blink of an eye?

Jaemin answers all of your questions fast enough that you’d think he read your mind, but you know he didn’t because the two of you agreed he wouldn’t after he tried to once, found out about your first crush, and subsequently teased you about it for months on end, receiving a cold shoulder in return.

"I guess I should specify that it’s not just for the future king but for the selection of the future king. Of course, I could conjure a sword since I am that powerful, but I could only make a generic sword. You guys are the ones who can experiment with designs and materials. And before you complain, it has to be you. You might not be the best or most experienced, but there’s intention behind what you do. Your hopes and dreams are passed down into every single one of your creations. I can feel it. There’s no one else I know who would fit the job better.”

“Not even Johnny? He may only have two years of experience under his belt but he’s quite the prodigy when it comes to this kind of stuff.”

“Not even Johnny.”

You groan externally, but your insides are bubbling with excitement. You’ve never said no to a request unless you knew it was going to be used for something immoral. Plus, you’re sure the reward for this sword is quite hefty. However, you try to keep a serious façade because you know Johnny and Woojin would mock you by copying whatever sentiment you express except at a higher decibel. You place your hands on Jaemin’s shoulders, his smooth robe feeling strange and foreign under your rough, weathered palms, and steer him out of the forge. The smoke and heat are clearly starting to take a toll because once he gets outside, he wheezes so hard you would think he’s had weak lungs since birth.

“Leave it to me,” you say, hand coming up to wave him goodbye as you tell him you’ll give him an update after two weeks.

Returning to your forge, you spread out the coals, allowing them to cool down at least a little bit before turning your attention to the notebook in your bag. You pull out the old leather book and take a seat on a stool, propping your chin up on your hand and ignoring the dull pain of your elbow digging into your thigh. You flip to a new page, paper feeling slightly unpleasant against your hands that have had the moisture sucked out of them by the dry heat. Making a list of all of the possible metals you can use and the combinations you can try, you also draw in a column on the side and give each an individual score based on practicality, weight, cost, and durability. However, you don’t do any eliminating yet as you never know which metals you may need for the design you end up choosing.

You head out to talk to your suppliers, asking each if there are any new alloys that have been made or if any new materials have been discovered. Most say the same, scratching their chins and going down the same list of precious metals and steel mixes. You’ve just about given up hope and are walking back to the forge dejectedly, feet gently kicking up small clouds of dust along the rocky path. At the last minute, something catches your attention in the outermost corner of your peripheral vision. There’s a cloaked figure resting against one of the trees of the forest that borders the market. You don’t know why but it feels like the person is calling to you so you turn back, taking hesitant steps toward them.

“Excuse me,” you call out. “I’m looking for different precious metals and materials that can be used in a sword. They have to be really strong, though. Do you happen to know where I can get any? I already have a sufficient supply of iron so I’m not really looking for that.”

The voice that responds is just a little over a whisper, like a gentle breeze tickling the shell of your ear, but you can hear the response clearly, “I can get you what you need, but it’ll be pricey.”

Your eyes light up and you almost skip over to the mysterious figure, grabbing a hand to shake. The action startles the stranger, causing their shoulders to shoot up and the loose hood that covers their face to fall down behind them. A sharp breath escapes your mouth as your hand releases theirs and raises so your fingers are ghosting over your lips. Your soft petals are parted in shock from the sight before you, a light pink flush spilling over your cheeks. It turns out that this mysterious person is not an actual person, but a faerie. The young man before you is the first of his kind you have seen and it is truly a shame because he is breathtakingly beautiful in an understated type of way. His hair is a pink that appears softer than even the freshest of tulips and his ears are small, dainty, and pointed at the top.

“You’re a faerie,” you breath out, partly in shock but mostly in awe.

The faerie, who introduces himself as Renjun, does not try to deny it. He explains that his kind usually prefer to keep to themselves, but he has personally had an interest in humans for as long as he can remember. Renjun also adds that the metal that he has access to is something that only faeries know about, so it will truly be one of a kind in the human world.

When you ask him why he is so eager to offer up something that has been kept secret for so long, Renjun admits that he was spying on Jaemin earlier and happened to hear your conversation. He says that if he plays a part in making the future king’s sword, perhaps the ruler will offer them protection from any future enemies and faeries will finally be able to rejoin the human world. Overall, his explanation seems legitimate enough so you decide to make a deal. You’ll pay him as much as you can for it, and you’ll also find him someone who’s willing to show him around the world beyond the borders of Avalon.

In the meantime, you return to the forge and plan to test out different materials for the hilt of the sword and for new creations as well. As you hammer into different kinds of metals, you think to yourself with a soft smile that this really is something you can see yourself doing for the rest of your life. The aspect of discovering something new is something that you constantly yearn for and through this job, you’ll be able to meet new people and constantly learn new techniques.

You’re so lost in thought, the thick smoke wafting off the glowing hot coals also seeming to cloud your mind as well, that you don’t even notice that you have visitors. There are three men standing at the entrance, eyes drifting around and taking in their surroundings. They’re tall and lanky, disinterest seemingly tattooed onto each of their faces. The man in the middle starts to saunter around, perking a brow at anything that brings the slightest bit of interest. The other two that flank his sides walk over to one of the other blacksmiths in the forge, Jinyoung. Your eyes go back to the anvil you’re working on, noticing your steel bar has gone cold and you need to place it back in the flames.

The bar has regained its bright orange glow when you pull it out, aligning it against the surface of the anvil. You bring your hammer down several times, each hit precise and filled with purpose.

A voice interrupts you as you’re flattening out the steel rod in order to make a handle, “What are you making there, sweetheart?”

You grit your teeth at first, rolling your eyes and hoping if you ignore this guy then he’ll eventually leave you alone. Unfortunately, that’s not the case as he just begins to pester you even more.

“Are you sure you can handle that? Want a strong guy like me to help you out?”

Having had enough, you look up to the man and meet his eyes, this time striking down your hammer with an unnecessarily excessive amount of force. The irritating and unwanted visitor visibly stiffens, intimidated and surprised by your display of strength, and backs off. He walks backwards slowly, eyeing you warily as he rejoins his friends.

You can vaguely hear him saying, “Jinyoung, where did you guys find that weirdo? She’s scary strong, for a girl anyway.”

You smirk to yourself, but then you look down and notice that you’ve used so much strength in that last blow that you’ve accidentally broken the hammer you were using. It’s your favorite hammer, especially efficient in flattening surfaces and absorbing some of the impact so it creates less of a strain on your wrist. You doubt anyone has one that’s just like yours, but you decide to ask around anyway. Unfortunately for you, no one you know seems to have it. But there is one person you have yet to ask. He’s wearing goggles to protect his eyes as he gets up close and personal with whatever he’s working with. You don’t recognize him so you figure he’s new around the forge, but you might as well give it a shot and ask him. Walking up to the man, you wait for him to finish with whatever he’s doing before clearing your throat.

"You don’t happen to have a hand hammer just like this one, do you?”

The man takes off his goggles and repositions them on his smooth forehead, eyes scanning over the broken hammer you’re holding in your hands. He thinks for a moment, fingers leaving their place on his cold chisel to drum against the wooden table he’s leaning against, before rummaging through his own tools.

“Sorry, I don’t have one; I just have chisels and maybe two or three hammers,” he says, voice softer and calmer than you were expecting.

You nod slowly, shoulders slumping slightly in dejection as you rock back and forth on your heels and contemplate what to do next.

“Hey,” you start, “are you new? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

The man, who had turned back to face his own forge, jumps a little in surprise, probably not expecting you to continue the dialogue.

“N-No. I mean, yes! I just joined around a month ago but I haven’t really taken the time to introduce myself to everyone so I guess it’s my fault no one recognizes me.”

You laugh and wave him off, assuring, “Don’t worry about it! It gets kinda busy around here so I totally understand. I’ll make sure you’re invited to our next group trip to the cavern. I’m Y/n, by the way. What’s your name?”

The young man reveals his name to be Lee Jeno, smiling a warm smile at you and waving slightly.

“Well, Jeno, it’s certainly nice to meet you. Anyway, since no one has the kind of hammer I’m looking for, I might as well go visit the market. Even though I just got back from there.”

You whisper the last part but even in the midst of the chaos of the forge, Jeno still manages to catch what you say. He hesitantly offers to come with you, wanting to check out the different stalls to see if they have any new hot chisels for him to use. The two of you walk side by side on the familiar dirt path that leads from the forge back to the center of town. You take the time to observe the man beside you. Your eyes start by sweeping over his figure and taking note of his impressive height compared to your own and how his slightly tanned skin seems to glow under the sun. Jeno is looking ahead, deep pools clearly reflecting his surroundings. You’re pretty sure if you squint, you could check out your own reflection. When his head starts to turn towards you, you snap your head forward, acting as if you weren’t just checking him out.

Your companion asks, “So how old are you? I’m nineteen.”

“Eighteen,” you respond, “but I’ve been working in the forge since I was ten, so I actually have more experience than some of the older guys. My dad used to work in the forge as well.”

“That’s really cool. I was actually in training for something else before I joined Ulric’s. But I really like it there. Everyone’s like one big family.”

“Exactly! I’m glad you feel that way too. Don’t forget that if you ever need anything, you can come to any one of us and we’ll be glad to help.”

Jeno’s lips curve upward into a smile and you can’t help but notice how his eyes form the shape of a crescent moon as if they too are smiling. He’s about to express his gratitude towards you when you’re interrupted. A guy, a stranger to you, walks up to Jeno and wraps an arm around his shoulders, punching him lightly in the side with his other hand. Jeno seems to recognize the two because he offers them the same kind smile you received moments before.

“Hey, Jeno! How’ve you been, dude? Still pursuing that pipe dream of yours?”

Jeno tenses up beside you and you start to notice that his smile wasn’t the same genuine smile to begin with. His lips are stretched thin and his jaw is taut. You can tell this man is Jeno’s old friend, but even so, you won’t stand for the way he acts.

“Jeno’s actually a really good blacksmith, for your information,” you say in your companion’s defense. “He’s probably the best person in our forge to go to for detailing.”

The stranger, who deems you unworthy of knowing his name, decides to ignore you and take a step back to look at Jeno, giving him a once over. He narrows his eyes in scrutiny and looks like he’s about to continue his attack on Jeno’s already meek personality when a second person joins the conversation.

“Oh! Jeno, is that you? It’s been forever!”

A girl, rather a beautiful young lady, runs up to the three of you, throwing her arms around the man she called out to. Her voice is light and airy, like a wind chime on a calm summer day, and her long hair flows down to her hips, curling ever so elegantly. She has flowers laced in her hair and her gown is made of a rich red satin, not a stain to be seen. She’s everything you’re not and even you have to admit that you’re stunned by her beauty. When she lets go, her eyes flicker toward you, as if just noticing you for the first time.

She asks, now blatantly staring at you, “Who’s this?”

“She works in the forge. We just came to the market to look for new tools.”

The girl’s expression lights up, no longer deeming you a threat, and introduces herself, “Oh, hello! I’m Yoona, Jeno’s friend. My brother, Yonghee, and I have known Jeno since we were little kids.”

The way Yoona says the word ‘friend’ has a bitter tinge to it and you can instantly recognize the crush she’s harboring for Jeno. However, Jeno is completely unaware, eyes nervously darting about. You’ve had enough of it and decide it’s time to go, grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward a stall that you know to have high-quality tools.

You call out behind you, “It was really nice meeting you, Yoona, but we’re in a bit of a rush right now. Maybe we can talk some other time.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond, instead turning a corner and going into the alley where the shop is located. You step in, welcomed by the cool air of the building. Realizing you still have a hold of Jeno’s wrist, you let it go and turn to look at some of the sledgehammers on display. You expect for Jeno to do his own thing and look at the chisels since you know that’s what he came with you for, but you find him following you like a little duckling follows its mother. His attention is not on you, but on the hammers resting in a display case. He runs his fingers along each one, grabbing some to see how they would feel under his hands.

He asks you and the shopkeeper, “What would be the best hammer for a beginner? I hate to admit it but I’m really not that strong yet, so I’d like something easier to maneuver.”

The shopkeeper leads the two of you to a section with smaller hammers, stating that they’re lighter, though they’re not as strong. Jeno raises a brow towards you as if asking if he should purchase one or not. Of course, you’re not one to say no and if he has the money for it, you don’t see the harm. Not long after, the two of you are walking back to the forge, both having purchased a hammer. Jeno stops in his tracks, free hand coming up to rub at his other arm.

He clears his throat and says, gesturing to his newly acquired hammer, “Actually, I was wondering if you could teach me how to use this properly.”

Of course, you agree, eager to share your passion. However, you want to add something else, eyes stuck on the way Jeno’s figure seems to cave into itself.

“Why aren’t you more confident in yourself?” you ask.

You don’t mean it offensively. It’s just that Jeno lets himself be bossed around so easily. He’s too nice for his own good. He explains that he’s just always been this way and he doesn’t really see anything to be confident in. You don’t know why but your heart throbs at his words. Can’t he see that he’s worth more than the value he’s placing upon himself? You want to help him, though you’re not sure how. Contemplating it for a few moments, you come up with the beginnings of an idea: you’re going to help Jeno get in shape. You think maybe if he feels more confident in his figure, he’ll start standing up for himself.

Introducing the idea, you watch as Jeno plays with the idea for a bit. Eventually, he agrees. He admits that although he’s not sure it’ll help with his self-esteem, it won’t hurt when it comes to his work in the forge.

There's a clearing in the forest by the forge that you two decide to meet at. It's not big, probably a circle with a diameter no more than fifteen feet, but it'll do for what you have in mind. It's rather calm too, the bustling sounds of the townspeople completely out of earshot and the thick smoke of the forge nowhere to be seen. Trees surround you, tall enough that several families of birds have built nests, their chirps and calls echoing sonorously. And yet, they're short enough that the sun's rays can clearly filter through.

You arrive first, setting down your canteen and satchel against the trunk of one of the trees along the perimeter. You've brought two swords from the forge with you, one light and one heavy but both blunt; you're not aiming to damage anything. You hold the lighter sword out as soon as you see Jeno approaching. He takes it, features morphing to show his surprise at how easy it is to wield.

"It's for beginners," you explain. "I made it myself, actually. Just for you, so consider yourself lucky."

Starting with basic drills, you teach Jeno how to dodge and parry with the correct stance. He practices against a still target at first, blade making small cuts along the thick trunks of the tall trees. The young man is making quick progress and soon you decide he's ready to start practicing with you. You take it slow at first, repeating the same exercises that you had him do with the trees, except you shift your weight from one foot to the other, bouncing back and forth. Jeno tires easily and you can understand why. The heat in the forge is strong and dry, but this summer day is humid, beads of sweat lining both of your foreheads. The sound of heavy breathing fills the air as the two of you slump down against the trees.

"Is it always this hard?"

Your eyes flicker up to look at Jeno as he practically wheezes out his question. You tilt your head back and let out a laugh.

"No, I promise it's not. But have you ever really worked out before?"

The man sighs and hangs his head in shame, causing you to laugh once again. You reassure him that it's okay but you think it'd be good for him to work on building muscle too. His expression is distraught but you can tell he's joking from the way his lips are twitching, a hint of a smile peeking through.

"Take off your shirt," you say.

Jeno splutters, surprised by your sudden request, "W-What? Wait, like right now?"

"Yes, now. I want to see what I'm working with if we’re going to bulk you up. Don't worry, I don't bite."

You're teasing him, but you do want to see his physique without the blacksmith apron or baggy shirt he always wears. He slowly peels off his shirt, sweat causing it to stick to some parts of his back and arms. You're not shocked when met with the sight of an outline of ribs and a flat stomach. However, you're pleasantly surprised when you see that he already has some definition in his biceps from working at the forge and his shoulders are actually quite broad. His skin is fair but still has a healthy tan, and you have to stop yourself from staring for too long.

Jeno feels as naked as the day he was born as he watches you scrutinize him like a hawk. He wants to curl up into a ball but he knows you'd probably reprimand him and tell him to be more confident. At that thought, a smile settles on his face. Your presence has already made itself known in his mind, reminding him whenever he feels small that he is worth more than he thinks. He appreciates it more than you'll ever know and the only thing he can think to do to repay you is to listen wholeheartedly to what you have to say and make you proud.

You clear your throat, realizing that even though you tried not to, you ended up ogling the boy before you. Jeno gets back to practicing, completely oblivious to the embarrassed flush that has turned your ears and neck a hot pink.

Between slashes, he asks, question coming out low as he quickly becomes short of breath, "Where did you learn how to fight like this? I mean, you're so good that you could even be a knight."

You're in the middle of picking up your own sword when you freeze, the question bringing back some delicate memories. Sensing the sudden shift in the air, Jeno panics, waving his free hand frantically. He assures you that you don't have to share if you don't want to, but you silence him by waving him off.

"It's okay, Jeno. I don’t mind talking about it. You see, my dad was one of the top blacksmiths at the forge and he had a lot of knight friends that would come to him with custom requests. He'd often travel to the castle and to the training grounds to visit them and sometimes I would tag along. 'Sometimes' turned into weekly visits, even when my dad didn't go. I was just fascinated with how cool the knights looked. I wanted to be a knight so much back then."

Jeno inquires, "What made you change your mind?"

"Well, there was this one time that I actually got to watch the knights from the inside instead of observing from over the top of the fence. I saw some kids watching them too and I went to introduce myself, but they all laughed at me, making fun of how dirty my clothes were and how I didn't belong. They ran away before I could even get in my first word. I never went back. I wanted to prove to them that I didn't need their fancy training methods to become a knight. But then I started going with my dad to his job and I fell in love with his work even more. I guess I kinda gave up on that old pipe dream."

Something settles in the pits of Jeno's stomach that makes him feel uneasy. The story feels familiar to him, though he doesn't quite know why. It isn't until you turn your face directly to him and give him a toothy smile, telling him the past is in the past, that he fully registers what's bothering him.

You don't know it, but Jeno was apart of that story. He was one of those kids you saw, one of the kids that you showed your smile to, eyes unwavering in their innocence and kindness. He didn't say anything mean to you, yet he did nothing to stand up for you either. He thought nothing of it at the time, truly believing his friends when they told him a dirty kid like you would probably be carrying several diseases and that you should just be avoided. When Jeno tells you all of this, your reaction definitely is not what he was expecting. Your pearly white grin morphs into a gentle smile, and your eyes are holding the same innocence and indiscriminate kindness that they did years ago.

"At least you're making an effort now," you offer, though it doesn't do much to help the guilt making it's home in his heart. "If you really want to make it up to me, you can do the detailing on the sword I'm making for Jaemin. Everyone knows you're good at it."

"It's a deal," Jeno says as he shakes your hand, not missing the little spark that makes its way through his arm when you first make contact or how he can still feel it even when he goes home for the day.

Jeno's mother sends him out to the market to get some ingredients to make a dessert for his father's upcoming birthday. He arrives at a farmer's stall, eyes raking through his list to see what ingredients he can cross off. After the farmer hands him some eggs, milk, and flour, Jeno hands over the necessary amount of money. He's pocketing the leftover change when something, or rather someone, catches his attention.

"Jeno," you call out, arm raised above your head, waving back and forth. As you jog towards him, Jeno's eyes draw together in confusion.

"Are you talking to me- Oh! It's you, Y/n. I don't know why I didn't recognize you."

Jeno does know why he doesn't recognize you. Your hair is down and thoroughly brushed through, soft locks tickling the skin of your neck. You're free of the smears of charcoal that usually taint your face. The starkest difference, however, is your choice of clothes. Instead your usual work trousers, you're adorned in a soft cream-colored dress, delicate ruffles capping off puffy sleeves. You look like you've had years of worry shaved off of you, smile light and carefree. More so, you look like an angel, the sun's rays surrounding your frame like a large halo. When you reach him, you're only slightly out of breath, a blinding smile gracing your soft lips. Jeno feels tongue-tied; he knows you're the same person you've always been but it's like he's seeing a new part of you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," you say, tucking a couple of loose strands behind your ear.

You look a bit uncomfortable, out of place, hiding your dress behind the large bag of vegetables that you're holding.

"It's fine, I was just distracted. Are you done shopping?"

"No, I actually have to get a couple of fruits as well. You're welcome to join me."

Jeno agrees, of course, and offers to carry your bag. It's a cute gesture, really, but you can't help but giggle as he lets out a grunt, arm shaking under the weight of it. You tell him you're fine, taking back the bag with ease. You pull him along to another stand that sells fresh fruits, grabbing some strawberries, cherries, and peaches. As the afternoon sun bears down on you, Jeno offers to walk you home, an offer which you accept after a bit of convincing.

"Let's take a little break," you say, setting down your bag on a grassy hill and flopping down to sit with your legs crossed. You dig around in your bag and bring out a bunch of cherries, pulling one off of its stem and popping it in your mouth. You hand a couple to Jeno as well, the two of you enjoying the sweet, yet tangy fruit. While you enjoy the change of pace, a meek voice pierces through the peaceful silence.

"Excuse me," says a small child, "may I have something to eat? I haven't had anything in days."

The child is skinny to the point where you're wondering how he is standing up on his own, bones prominent against his thin and dull skin. Of course, you oblige, not only handing over a cherry, but the whole bunch.

"Come and sit," you say gently, not wanting to scare the poor child away. You hand him your canteen and he takes a big swig, several drops dribbling down his jaw. Wiping away at his chin with the fabric of your sleeve, you tell the child to take it easy. Your eyes are soft as you speak, hand gently rubbing at his back.

It's a day full of new experiences for Jeno as he looks at the scene unfurling before him. He likes this side of you, the one that doesn't seem to have such a tough exterior. He can't deny how his insides melt a little when the sickly child falls asleep on your lap and you carefully card your fingers through his thin and tangled hair.

"It's nice seeing you like this, you know," he tells you. "You look so carefree and feminine that I almost forgot you're a total god when it comes to swordsmanship."

"Hey," you reprimand, "you can be feminine and be great with a sword."

Jeno puts his hands up in defeat, but the point he made still hangs in the air, causing you to let out a soft sigh.

"Not everyone is as nice as you, Jeno. You know I've been through some things and I don't think I've seen enough to prove that my views on people of the other class are untrue."

Your voice is laced with sadness as if you wish you could say otherwise, and looking down upon your watery eyes that reflect the setting sun, Jeno vows to right all the wrongs that have happened to you.

Images of you fill his mind, those of you in the forge, the orange coals casting a soft glow upon your features; visions of you training with him, wiping the sweat from your brow; and pictures of you and your carefree smile under the afternoon sun. They're all he can think of as he shuts the door to his house behind him.

"Had a nice day, sweetheart?"

Jeno's eyes flicker up to see his mother looking at him with an accusatory gaze. Her eyes are narrow and her thin arms are crossed across her chest, weight shifting to one leg.

"Y-Yeah," he replies. "Why do you ask?"

"A little bird told me you're spending even more time with that commoner girl. You know that's not good for you or our image, Jeno. We're people of nobility; we can't be seen with just anyone. First, you choose to go to that silly old forge and waste your time away, and now, this?"

"Mother, you know that blacksmithing is my passion, my dream. And there's nothing wrong with that girl. She has a name."

"You're getting attached, Jeno," comes his mother's mocking sing-song voice, clearly not taking his argument seriously. "You already know that Yoona is the girl for you, so I suggest you stay away from that… peasant girl from now on."

Jeno is far beyond angry at this point. Hot air blows out of his nose as his figure practically shakes. First, his family disrespects the dream he finally worked up the courage to pursue, and now they're judging you without even knowing you. He doesn't know how he never noticed how biased his family and friends can be.

"If this is how it's going to be, I can't say I'd be okay aligning myself with this family," Jeno declares.

Jeno's mother huffs indignantly, asking, "What will you do without us, Jeno? We're all you've ever had."

Before storming upstairs to stuff some clothes into a bag, Jeno makes sure to enunciate the fact that he has a whole different family, one that actually cares for him and his dreams, waiting for him back at the forge. He slams the front door behind him and walks toward the familiar building, his bag of clothes feeling extra heavy as if being weighed down by the consequences of his decision. He probably should've thought it through and planned ahead of time, now not knowing where to go. However, luck seems to be in his favor because there is a source of light in the forge, signaling someone is still working.

Jeno breathes a sigh of relief as soon as he pushes open the door to the forge and sees that Jinyoung is hard at work, flattening out an iron rod. The aforementioned man looks up, confusion filling his eyes as he notices the figure in the doorway.

"Jeno? What are you doing here?"

The young man scratches his chin as he replies, "I was planning on crashing here for the night. And basically from now until forever."

Jinyoung immediately sets down his tools, walking over and asking if everything is okay. He nods understandingly when told that Jeno basically ran away from home.

"Jeno, you can totally stay with me and my brother. We have a spare room in our house."

"Are you serious?"

Jeno wraps his arms around his friend, relief settling into his bones. It finally feels like he can breathe freely again and he can't express his gratitude enough. He's still thanking Jinyoung even as the two close up shop and head home for the night, no matter how many times the older boy reassures him that it's what anyone in the forge would do.

Jeno doesn't tell you about his situation, mainly because your relationship is running so much smoother these days. Your interactions are full of smiles and secret glances at each other across the flames of the forge. The strange faerie you met earlier, Renjun, managed to get his hands one the precious metal he was speaking of and you've started working on it, the material proving to be just as durable as claimed. Overall, everything is going really well.

It's one of those days that you and Jeno meet up in your secret spot in the forest. Lately, Jeno has started sparring against you, skills rapidly developing. You two are moving so fast and so fluid that it's almost like a dance, tiny sparks flying off every time your two swords clash. This time, you're about to go in for the kill (not literally, of course) when your foot gets caught on the root of a tree and you stumble backward into its trunk. Jeno takes advantage of this opportunity and holds his sword up, level with your throat. Slowly, he brings the sword back to his side and forms a cage around you with his body. There's a thick tension in the air as he approaches, eyes never leaving your own. Drawing even closer until he's mere inches away from your face, the young man feels the rough skin of your worn hands come up to caress his face. His eyes flicker over, smiling gently as he feels the hairs on his arms raise from the feeling of this much awaited skin contact.

You have other ideas in mind, hand suddenly wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him into a chokehold. Your partner soon gives up, raising his arms up in surrender. You smirk as you let him go and lean back against the tree again.

"Never let your guard down," you remind Jeno. "I believe that was lesson number four or five."

Jeno rolls his eyes at your feigned cocky attitude, watching as you release on of your now trademarked carefree laughs. Seeing an opening, he takes a chance. Placing a hand on your waist, he pulls you flush against himself. Your breath is stolen as you place both of your hands on his chest. You can't help but let your hands wander across his now hardened physique. It's as if he's bulked up in the blink of an eye, chiseled abdomen making itself known against your own. This time, it's you who can't seem to look elsewhere as you swallow thickly.

"Jeno, are you sure about-"

The man before you makes the final move, hand snaking around to the small of your back to give you a gentle push closer, if you could even get any closer at this point. Your lips meet at the middle, soft pillows interlocking perfectly as if made for each other. The sun's rays are nothing compared to the heat of Jeno's hand as it finds a place along your jaw. You feel a tug of something in the base of your stomach as Jeno brings your lower lip between his teeth. You know that if you don't stop here, you could get too carried away, so you push him away, lips parting and foreheads now coming to rest against each other. Your breaths mingle in the little space between you as your chest heaves, partially because you're out of breath and partially because you feel as if your whole body is on fire and your heart has been stolen. You give Jeno one last peck at the corner of his mouth before fully backing away. Picking up your stuff, you adjust the strap of your satchel on your shoulder.

"I should go. I'll see you at the forge, Jeno."

You disappear into the thick maze of trees, but not before shooting one last dazzling smile his way over your shoulder.

"Y/n, you have a visitor," comes the voice of Johnny as he walks in, clocking in for the day.

You place your tools down and dust your hands against each other, rubbing them against your apron as an extra precaution. You take off the goggles that are wound around your head, blowing strands of hair out of your hair. Taking your hair out of its ponytail, you brush through the strands with your fingers before deeming yourself presentable enough. Usually you wouldn't mind so much about your appearance, but since you're at work, you never know if it'll be a friend or a potential customer. However, you're surprised when you step outside and find that neither is waiting to greet you.

"Y/n, right? I'm sorry to pull you away from your work, but there is something really important that I must talk to you about."

You can tell from the tone that the woman standing before you isn't the least bit sorry. However, you let her continue, not really bothered enough to interrupt.

"I don't know if you remember, but we met at the market once. I'm Yoona, Jeno's childhood friend and former betrothed."

"Former?"

"Oh, Jeno didn't tell you? He ran away from home just so that he could be with you. It's actually what I came to talk to you about. It's probably not your intention, but you've become quite a toxic person for Jeno to be around. Not only are you negatively affecting his life, but the lives of his family and dear friends."

"I- I didn't know. He didn't tell me."

"Yes, because he wants to live out this little fairytale that's in his head. But you and I know what's really the best for him. He needs to be with his family, not with some poor strangers that were forced to take him in."

You try to argue that Jeno would never be the type to purposefully be an inconvenience, especially to strangers. However, Yoona doesn't let up for a second.

"It's up to you, really," she says. "Do you want to be the girl who comes between Jeno and his family? And all for what? Some crush that you have on him that'll never be reciprocated?"

Yoona spins on her heels, hair whipping behind her and creating a sharp breeze that blows toward your face and causes you to flinch. You watch as she walks away, gait slow and delicate. Sighing to yourself, you realize that is the type of girl that's meant for Jeno, not someone like you. You do care about him, more than you've probably cared for anyone other than Jaemin and your father, but this means that you won't hesitate to do what's best for him. This is why when you walk back into the forge, your head remains low and your expression is stone cold, no form of sadness peeking through. You look down at the sword resting on your anvil, blade and grip already complete. All that's left is the detailing of the rain-guard, but that's where your problem lies: Jeno is supposed to do the detailing. Taking a deep breath, you pick up the sword and bring it over to Johnny, ignoring the blatant way Jeno's eyes follow your figure.

"Hey, Johnny," you start. "Do you think you can do this detailing for me?"

Johnny's eyes raise in surprise and you don't miss the way his eyes flit over to Jeno for a second before replying, "Are you sure? I have a bit more experience than you, but you know I've never been good with a chisel."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Anything's better than the sloppy job I'd do."

You hear the sound of a tool clattering on the floor and you know that it's Jeno who's dropped whatever he's been working with, but you choose to ignore it.

Jeno's eyes still haven’t left your figure since the moment you walked back into the forge, and he's plagued with confusion. Just the day before, you were taking a walk, hand in hand, stealing kisses on the cheek, forehead, and nose. And now? You're acting like he doesn't even exist. The change is too stark and he knows he has to figure out the cause, but for not, he walks over to Johnny, offering the older man to do the detailing instead. Johnny gratefully accepts, handing over the sword and agreeing not to tell you about it. As he aligns his chisel with the tip of the hilt, an idea forms in his head. He has an inkling of who could be behind your sudden behavior change and resolves to ask about it when he clocks out for the day.

"Mother, Father," Jeno calls out, voice echoing in the silence of his home. He hears soft footsteps and not long after, he sees his parents' figures descending down the main staircase.

"Jeno," the young man's mother all but squeals as she rushes up to him and wraps him in a tight hug. He has to admit that he's missed seeing his family, but there are more important things to be said.

"I have something to ask you… Did you say something to Y/n? I know you don't approve of her but you have no right interfering in our relationship. And even though she may not have had an official education, she's just as knowledgeable and eloquent, if not more, than any of my friends."

Jeno's parents shuffle uncomfortably for a moment before his father clears his throat and speaks up, "We know, son. And we're truly sorry for that. We see now how committed to your dream you are and we think that girl has actually had a positive influence on you. You used to never stand up for yourself. I really don't know why she would be acting that way."

It feels as if the weight of the world has been lifted from Jeno's shoulders. Sure, he would stay with you with or without his parents' consent, but now he can pursue a relationship with you and have complete confidence. Now, the only problem is finding out who or what could've changed your mind. His mind plays his memories with you back as if he's reading one of the story books he read as a child. One day seems to stick out in particular. It's the day you two first met. More specifically, when you visited the market. He remembers feeling insecure and shy around Yonghee. Then right after, he remembers Yoona rushing up to him, latching onto his side and making her presence known to you.

"That's it," he whispers, causing his parents to look at him weirdly. "It's Yoona. I can't believe I hadn't figured this out sooner. I know I just got here, but I have to go. I'm sorry."

Jeno's parents give him encouraging smiles as they see him off, mother stating, "It's okay, dear. We know this is something you have to do.”

It's not a long trip to Yoona's house, probably a five minute run at most, and as soon as he reaches the doorstep, he's practically banging against the door. His heart rate quickens as the door opens, but it's not who he's hoping for.

"Jeno, what's up? You look totally different from the last time I saw you."

"Not now, Yonghee. Where's Yoona?"

"I-In the kitchen. Why-"

Jeno doesn't give Yonghee the opportunity to speak, dashing towards the room where he knows the cause of all of his problems is residing. He runs up to Yoona and demands to know what she's said to you, restraining himself from physically shaking the answer out of her. Yoona's eyes dart around nervously as she tries to avoid his question 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jeno."

"Yes, you do. Why else would she completely ignore me like she's doing right now? 

It takes a couple of tries, but Jeno manages to get some sort of an answer when Yoona reveals, "Ok, fine. I may or may not have told her about how you moved out and how it was all her fault."

"Yoona, I know we've been friends since we were four, but that doesn't excuse this. You had no right to interrupt like you did."

"I know. God, I know that now. You'll never love me like that and I see that now. Can I ever make it up to you?"

"I don't know if I'll ever completely forgive you, but if there's one thing you could do, it would be apologizing to Y/n."

With that, Jeno turns and retraces his steps back to the forge. Each step he takes makes him feel light and heavy at the same time, and he doesn't know why. It's like some invisible force is holding his heart in hand, ready to crush it into pieces if all goes downhill. At this point, all he can do is hope and pray that his chances at a real relationship with you haven't been completely ruined.

Jeno tries not to picture what his life would be like without you in it as the forge draws closer and closer. Pushing open the door, he's greeted with utter silence, realizing that the light he saw from outside was just a candle that someone forgot to extinguish. He curses aloud, shutting the door and pacing around, trying to remember the way to your house from one time when he walked you home. He has a vague idea of where to start, taking a narrow road to a residential area not too far away. However, the darkness of the night sky and lack of lighting along the rough pathways does nothing to aid him. He ends up taking a wrong turn somewhere along the way and is now lost among the many small houses lined up side by side. And just to make things worse, he feels a few droplets fall from the sky and splatter against his face.

By the time Jeno finds your house, a small one-story building tucked away in a maze of flowers and shrubbery, he's soaked to the bone, the loose white cotton shirt put on in the morning now sticking to him like a second skin. He knocks on your door once, twice, and then thrice, hoping you can hear him over the sounds of the storm that's brewing.

It takes a couple moments, but you do eventually pry open the door slightly, your face poking out and tiredness pulling your eyelids down. Bringing a palm up to rub at your eyes, you blink a couple times, finally acknowledging the person on the other side of the door.

"Jeno? Oh my god, what are you doing out there? You're going to catch a cold."

You swing the front door open wider, free hand reaching out to grasp his arm and pull him inside, all the while trying your best not to ogle at his clearly visible figure. Asking the drenched boy to stand in one place, you rush to your bathroom and grab a dry towel. You don't realize it but as you wrap the towel around Jeno, you're also pulling him closer to you, and it only really hits you when the two of you are almost standing toe to toe, his shaky breath fanning out across your face. Clearing your throat, you take a step back and leave him to dry himself. In the meantime, you warm up some milk for the two of you.

When Jeno is mostly dried down, you request for him to take a seat at the couch in your living room. You hand him the glass of warm milk, noticing how his hands are still shaking, and decide to light up your fireplace. Dusting off your hands and turning to face the man on your couch, you start to think maybe it wasn't the best idea, because the way the glow of the fireplace bounces off Jeno's skin already has your heart going a mile a minute. You settle for sitting on a chair across from him and looking down as if the milk in your glass is the most interesting thing you've ever seen. Eventually, you feel as though you have to say something, the silence seeping into your skin and creating a ball of anxiety that weighs down your heart.

"Why did you come here, Jeno?"

The man looks up at you, eyes full of sorrow, guilt, and something else as he formulates his response.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"I haven't been-"

"Yes, you have. You asked Johnny to help with your sword even though it's something we promised we'd do together."

You swallow thickly, knowing that you've been caught, and admit, "Ok, so I did try to distance myself a bit, but I just felt like we were moving too fast."

Jeno sighs deeply, frustration turning his knuckles white as he grips his mug tightly and says, "You're lying again, Y/n."

The way Jeno can see through you so well leaves you feeling overexposed, but somewhere deep inside, there's a part of you that appreciates it. He's looking at you as if you're the only thing that's ever existed and you've never felt so bare and content at the same time.

"It wasn't a complete lie, though," you say, tone slightly defensive. "You have so much going for you. You come from a wealthy family and you have good friends, and Yoona is head over heels for you. You could have so much. I just don't think you should be wasting all of your potential on me."

"None of that matters if I don't have you with me. Yes, my family is rich, but do you really think I care about that kind of stuff when I gave it all up to come work at the forge?"

"Well, I…"

"And do you think I'd be here right now, doing my best to fight for you, if I thought I could live a life with Yoona? Y/n, you're the only one I could see myself with; you're the only one that will ever make me feel complete."

"But your parents, Jeno. They'd never approve."

"I talked to them. Sure, they think still Yoona is my match, but they're willing to accept you. And so what if they weren't? It's my life and I'd be willing to give up all of it for you." 

He stands up, placing his mug on the little table between you and walking around it to stand before you. He reaches into the pocket of his trousers to pull something out, but it slips through his grasp, falling somewhere on the hard stone floor with a soft clink. It takes a minute but Jeno is able to find it, fingertips grazing across a familiar cold metal underneath the chair you're sitting on. He takes the object between his fingers and offers it to you.

The scene before you is something you'd never think would happen. Jeno is on one knee and in his hand is a small metal object, a ring that you can tell is handmade. It's not a perfect circle, not even close, and you can tell it was rushed by the lumps on the surface, but the mere sight of it has you flustered beyond belief

"Jeno, I hope that's not what I think it is. Never mind the fact that society wouldn't approve; we're not even twenty yet!"

It takes a moment for the man to realize the position he's in, but when it clicks, he jumps to his feet, startling you a bit. He takes your smaller hand in his, holding it as if it's a delicate flower, and looks deeply into your eyes.

"It's a promise ring I meant to give you. It means I'll always care for you, support you, and love you until the day that I die. I hope this proves how much you mean to me."

With that, Jeno slides the ring onto its designated finger. And in this moment, it's like you can see into each other's hearts and souls. In this moment, no one else exists and nothing else matters. Jeno thinks the smile that finally breaks your tense visage is bright enough to illuminate the whole world, if not the whole universe.

You jump up to your feet and wrap your arms around the man, your man, placing a kiss on his chapped and cracked lips. The feeling of your lips locking perfectly together assures you that this is how it's meant to be and you should've never tried to settle for anything less. The kiss is sweet and innocent and pure and you want to stay like this forever. Unfortunately, you both run out of air and pull away, though your hand is still tangled in the hairs on the back of his head and his palm is planted firmly on your waist.

"I love you too," you breathe out, reciprocating what he had said earlier.

Jaemin holds up a finished sword, the product of yours and Jeno's hard work, twisting his wrist to inspect the blade from all angles. The sun’s rays make it glow as if it’s molten silver, causing your friend to nod in approval. He makes a few slashes at the air, but they're sloppy and slow as the sorcerer has never been the fighting type.

"It's perfect, Y/n," he tells you with his pearly white smile.

You can't take all the credit though, elbowing Jeno in his side as you declare, "Jeno did a good amount of work on it too."

Jeno snaps out of whatever daze he's in and shyly rubs a hand against his neck, claiming he really didn't do much. Even still, you decide to split the reward evenly between the two of you. You think it's only fair since what's yours is his and what's his is yours. 

Jaemin snaps his fingers as he reminds you, "Hey, you never did tell me its name."

You and Jeno look at each other, smiles coming to your faces knowing you'd actually discussed this topic just the night before.

"Excalibur," you declare proudly.

And Jeno finishes off, "The sword that cuts through steel."

[texastheband]

Texas: Is not from Texas; Has never been there; Has a terrific debut LP

By Kim Reed Taken from "Pulse !", the US Tower Records magazine, September 1989 Transcription by Sophie van Rooijen

Texas is a band of multiple ironies. It takes its name from a state with powerful images and traditions, yet it hails from Glasgow, Scotland. Its members are barely out of their teens, yet the band sounds like it's been playing for years. And its debut LP – Southside – offers ample proof that Texas is gonna be around for a long time. Sydney's winter sun slips under the Harbour Bridge as Texas – a talented group from the unlikely locale of Scotland that has released one of the most stunning debut LPs in recent memory – enters the Sebel Townhouse for its last interview of the day. Post-concert parties are frequent in the cozy bar of the Sebel, where the walls (decorated with hundreds of glossy eight-by-tens) have absorbed many a tale. Lead singer Sharleen Spiteri and guitarist Ally McErlaine retire to one of the adjacent alcoves. Both members are eager to talk, despite the fact that they've probably relayed the basic history of the band to the press over and over ad nauseum since Mercury/PolyGram released its first single, "I Don't Want a Lover," earlier this year. The album, Southside, followed on its heels. “We toured the U.K. extensively before the album came out,” Spiteri begins. “When it was released there it entered the charts at number three and then went straight to gold. Even the record company was surprised because they really hadn't done anything or pulled all of the strings.” In fact, not only did Phonogram (the U.K. parent company of the band's label, Mercury) take a conservative approach in promoting Texas, it was downright blasé about the band since it was signed three years ago. Which is not to say that the label was unsupportive; on more than one occasion Texas got itself in a sticky situation and the record company came to its rescue. Three years ago, Spiteri was on her way to international status as a hairdresser when a friend told her about a band that his friend was putting together. He convinced her to take her guitar down and play a few songs with him. The result was an invitation to form a band. Despite McErlaine's affinity for Cooder's fretwork, the Texans are adamant that the name for their group evolved after they had developed their unique brand of contemporary blues. “We saw the movie 'Paris, Texas,'” explains Spiteri patiently, “and we just liked everything about it. We liked the soundtrack, too, but everything in the film is just so open. And, in turn, we feel that our music is very open and sparse.” Apparently, the name didn't evoke the wrath many had predicted when Texas started taking off, and it has been the freshness of McErlaine's playing and the natural power and control of Spiteri's singing that has been attracting all the attention. “Johnny and I got together and wrote a few songs,” says Spiteri, referring to bass player John McElhorne, “and then sent them off to various record companies. Within weeks Phonogram signed us up without ever seeing us play !” It's a story that every frustrated musician cringes upon hearing, but the fantasy sequence stops there. “Only a couple weeks after we signed I got a call from Chic producer Bernard Edwards telling me that he'd heard our tape and he wanted us to go to L.A. to record,” she explains, “but he had a lot of personal problems, and after a month we ended up scrapping everything and going home.” “It was a great learning experience for me because it was the first time I had worked with a producer,” she continues. “Things just didn't work out, though, and I guess I discovered that everybody isn't nice.” When Spiteri and McElhorne returned to Glasgow, their hometown, they concentrated on getting the band together, and that's when guitar-mad McErlaine was enlisted to join Texas. He had a reputation for skipping school in order to stay home and practice the licks of his idols, players like Keith Richards and Ry Cooder. “The band had lost a lot of money trying to record in the States,” says McErlaine, taking up the story of how Texas floundered before hitting paydirt. “When I joined the band we tried a few other producers in Glasgow in order to do it as cheaply as we could, but things weren't working out, and so we scrapped them, and there was more debt.” Eventually Texas connected with producer Tim Palmer, who has worked with Robert Plant (Now and Zen), the Mission, Mighty Lemon Drops and David Bowie's Tin Machine. His enthusiasm for the band's material and his easygoing manner endeared Palmer to the band, and he's already been enlisted to produce the next album. The other two members brought experience into the studio – McElhone had worked with Altered Images and Hipsway; drummer Stuart Kerr had been with the group Love and Money. With Spiteri and McErlaine, they were able to maintain the sound they'd developed, which was not dramatically altered by Palmer in the studio. “What Tim really did for us was give us confidence,” says McErlaine, while ordering some potent Red Back beer. “We just wanted to make an album that we wanted to hear.” “The album is really one long story about our lives in the past three and a half years,” says Spiteri. “We really put our necks on the line for this record and we fought for everything.” “People told us that 'I Don't Want a Lover' was too long because it was over four minutes, but we refused to let them edit it,” adds McErlaine. “They told us that radio wouldn't play it, but we said that if radio liked the song, they'd take it no matter what.” The band's insistence paid off, as “I Don't Want a Lover” can be heard on a majority of the globe's seven continents these days. “Lover” – with its atmospheric slide guitar runs knifing through a (now standard) modern MTV-pop synth/guitar/walloping drums rhythm track, over which Spiteri's husky contralto lays down the law – is, like the remainder of Southside, uncommonly confident for such a young band. You know how some records just sound like smash hits, even on the first listen? Southside sounds massive, with at least three other potential chartbusters – “Tell Me Why,” “Everyday Now” and “Thrill Has Gone” – lurking in the album's grooves. Texas' sound is a unique reflection of the music that has been imported to Scotland via radio, TV, records and tapes. And by the friends of Texas who sought out the rock, pop, soul and blues of North America on their trips overseas. “My dad was in the navy and went to San Francisco during the flower power days and brought back all these records,” says Spiteri, laughing. “'These Boots Were Made for Walking' by Nancy Sinatra was one of the first records I can remember listening to. But my dad's also a big Stones fan, and he even gets into Beatles vs. Stones arguments with people!” Spiteri cites Billie Holiday, Patsy Cline and Sarah Vaughn as her biggest influences; she also admits that critics who compare her to former Lone Justice singer Maria McKee aren't far off. McErlaine doesn't hesitate when naming London Calling by the Clash as his first album purchase. The names of guitarists Jimmy Page, Keith Richards, Eddie Van Halen, The Edge and Peter Buck also creep into his conversation, and it isn't hard to see what other albums and tapes he checked out in order to forge his slide guitar style. Radio is definitely not an influence on Scots who wish to discover the talents of artists outside the mainstream. “Radio stations in Britain are so conservative,” Spiteri moans. “It's all monopolized by the government, and Radio One seems to have a playlist of about 20 records. That's all you hear.” Spiteri and McErlaine like to reflect on the quick rise of Texas and with it the newfound freedom of leaving your past behind, not always a pleasant thing when you're used to a close group of family and friends. “It's very weird traveling to different countries,” says McErlaine. “You know how it is when you go home at night and you feel very comfortable? Well, now we don't have that security.” “Plus, when you go on the road,” adds Spiteri, “you become like a little family. You try to stay in touch with reality, but you can understand how some people lose it after so many years.” “But when you go back to Glasgow it brings you right down again,” says McErlaine. “Like, my dad's unemployed and I feel very lucky to be doing this. You know, my friends won't even tell me that they have a copy of our album! Sometimes we'll go to friends' houses and you'll hear our album blaring out from the living room, but as soon as you arrive at the door, it's off.” The down-to-earth attitude that Spiteri and McErlaine have toward their music (and the music business) is not as unique as it is refreshing. “Sometimes it's hard to believe that we're in a real band,” says McErlaine. “It's like when we were in Ireland for some Irish music awards,” Spiteri says. “We were just standing there watching everybody when they started saying 'U2 are here! U2 are here!' Suddenly somebody tapped Johnny on the shoulder and there's Bono and The Edge standing there! Bono says, 'I just wanted to tell you that I really like your record.' I think my jaw dropped wide open and we didn't stop smiling all night.” “We know that they're real people like us,” says McErlaine, “but we've grown up loving their music and still respect them. Now we're in the situation where we can talk to these people. Like when we met Robert Plant when we were doing the album. He had that voice that you've heard a million times on record !” Not all their meetings are as pleasant, however. “Sometimes we'll be taping a TV show or something and I'll say something to one of the other bands there, “Spiteri says, “and they'll just ignore you. Some people really do have problems. “We always think that civility costs nothing,” she continues. “You're nobody special if you are in a band; it's just a job.” Unlike most professions, however, musicians are fair game for the media. As the band is finding out, music journalists have incompetents in their ranks like everybody else. “We had one reviewer at our gigs who wrote that he didn't like the way our guitarist was standing!” Spiteri recalls. “And we think to ourselves, 'This is supposed to be a music paper?' The article went on to say nothing about the music or the songs we wrote, but at the end he wrote, 'Texas are a very good band.'” Live performance is the band's current focus, and it puts the group in a put-up-or-shut-up situation with the press and punters alike. Spiteri agrees that Texas' material like “Thrill Has Gone,” “Tell Me Why,” “Future is Promises” and the band favorite “Fight the Feeling,” is much harder to play live now than it was before going into the studio. The precision that Palmer helped the band achieve has a sharper edge than its previous rehearsal halls of Glasgow sound. The material on Southside, even after a few listens, is so sophisticated and mature that virtually anyone hearing the album will swear that the band must be longtime veterans of the music business. The album's 10 tracks (the compact disc contains the bonus track “Faith”) contain music so rich and full that it's leaving journalists scrambling for yet another way to say “brilliant”. Texas' material is completely original – with obvious influences by Cooder, Richard et al. in the guitar department – and the sound is not only a surprising hybrid, but one that's decidedly non-Celtic. Simple Minds, Big Country, Aztec Camera and newer outfits like Gun and Slide have nothing on these guys. The band is already responding to the pressure that comes with this type of recognition. “We know that there is a lot expected of us for the second album,” says Spiteri, “but we won't go into the studio until next year because we don't want to get off tour and go in tired and bored. This is very important to us, and we're not going to rush into anything.” “We recorded Southside in two and a half months,” McErlaine adds. “So we know that we don't need a year in the studio. But, we want to do it right.” Doing it right means heading back to the States for a tour of the clubs in August and September before returning to Europe for another sweep across venues teeming with an ever-growing number of Texas converts. The band has chosen to play the smaller clubs in preference to supporting a major artist in a stadium tour, and this game plan may just work. Countrymen Simple Minds did three pub tours of Australia before cracking it overseas. Now it's up to the denizens of the U.S. to decide whether to embrace a Scottish band, bold enough to name itself Texas, that has made the rootiest, most American-sounding record of the year. The welcome mat, unused as of late, is all theirs.

[thecatchat]

Okay I'm back

Johnny is still dating Kitty, it's just through long distance. His shadow stayed with him, not like he could just walk around without a shadow. He and Kitty have gotten on good terms with Phantom through only coming out for a friendly brawl every now and then.

Then Phantom hears about something called a "Lazarus Pit" in a town called Gotham. He'd investigate himself but he's bogged down with high school, his family, the ghosts invading town, etc. So he needs to send someone else to investigate long term, because it's not as simple as "fly above the town until you feel a tug on your core" type deal. Due to the utter cluster fuck of chemicals, curses, and other hazardous materials, picking out any single "tug" on Danny's core is impossible.

Plus, I imagine the League of Assassins have stuff in place to protect the pit from being found by magical beings. Specifically, Living magical beings. Since Danny is still half alive, he still counts. Wanna know what doesn't count?

Regular ghosts.

So after narrowing the list down, it turns out Johnny is the perfect candidate. He's human looking enough that he can pass for human, the personality and attitude that makes it so no one blinks twice if he gets caught sneaking around, and a sneaky shadow to help him get out of trouble.

After forging the paperwork and sending him out, Johnny is feeling pretty confident in staying hidden. He's got this. He only forgot to walk on the ground once today (or was that twice?) So there's no way for him to mess up meeting his new roommate.

"Uh, did you haunt me all the way from Amity? Or are you new?"

Shit. Johnny could have sworn he locked the door. Only roommates were supposed to have keys!

Turning around, he saw a familiar looking face (even if they'd never actually met) standing in the doorway. Some football kid, if he was getting it right. Of course there would be a kid from Amity here, easily identified by the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick held loosely in his grip, it was just Johnny's rotten luck.

"Long story, but I'm not here to haunt anyone," He quickly but gently pulled the guy inside and closed the door behind him, "and please don't blow my cover. It's a favor for Phantom."

The guy still seemed tense but loosend a little at the mention of the towns little savior and suspiciously asked, "What kind of favor?"

Johnny sighed. He really wanted to make a good first impression on his roommate and he couldn't do that with this guy playing 20 questions. With a quick flick of the wrist Shadow came up from the ground and wrapped around the guy. Even with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick, this guy didn't have the strength or blast power to take on Shadow.

"Look," Johnny hissed as politely as he could, "Phantom is a bit too busy keeping Amity in Amity to investigate this place and this place is pretty important. I'm not telling you why exactly I'm here though so if you don't mind leaving before my new roommate gets here, I'd like to at least last a week before they find out I'm a ghost." Before the guy could say anything else, he was set down gently back in the hallway and the door lock sliding closed behind him.

Johnny collapsed onto the bed he was likely only ever going to use to keep up appearances and called up Shadow for a quick check up. Fenton weaponry wasn't always harmful to the touch for ghosts (as Phantom demonstrated daily) but nobody ever knows when that might change. His attention was snapped away only seconds later when the sound of the lock turning pulled him back to the door.

The same guy shyly stuck his head in while holding up his key. "Um, hey," he mumbled as Johnny realized what was written on the key tag, "room number 666, right? I'm Dash if you didn't know. Lucky us, I guess?"

Lucky. Yah, this was exactly Johnny's luck.

---------

Johnny and Dash actually get along pretty well once Johnny gets over the "this wasn't part of the plan" thing. It's nice to have someone also from Amity Park to adjust to the changes.

Dash has grown out of bullying and has gotten better about pulling his own weight for his grades, but still likes to get into trouble. He's on the football team and uses that connection to learn about the city and it's history (and it's troubles). His teammates don't skip out on detail since he's the first out of towner to not be afraid of Gothams crazier side and still be good at the sport.

Johnny takes that local knowledge and uses it in his search. And if he has Shadow trail Dash when he goes out celebrating a good game with his buddies when there's a breakout or out to a party, well, that's just for information. Totally not because he's grown attached to the guy. Absolutely not. Ridiculous.

If anyone has any other ideas for how they'd bond or if the bats catch wind, please add on!

Short DPXDC Prompts #489

Johnny 13 and Dash as Roommates in Gotham. 

[infinitum-imaginaerum]

Embers // Jung Jaehyun; One

When a scrapped government experiment leads two lost souls together, something changes in both of their lives. Jaehyun reveals the light that’s been hiding all along.

Embers One | Embers Two

They were laughing and fooling around like they always did, pushing and shoving as they headed home—a little noisy, but not too much to disturb anyone indoors. It was late afternoon; the sun was looking hesitantly at the horizon as it continued to approach. You were walking home from work, your car having been in the shop for a couple of days for some repairs when you heard them hooting and hollering. You smiled, not bothering to look over, knowing it was a group of boys just being boys.

The laughing paused, but still you didn’t look up. A sharp elbow hit Jaehyun’s side who was busy fixing the ball cap atop his head and grooming his hair a bit. He looked at the shorter male who’d administered the sharp pain before following his eyes out.

“Eye-candy or what?” Taeyong asked, glancing at his taller counterpart.

“Damn, she is pretty fine,” Jaehyun replied, getting a good look as you walked by not but fifteen meters away.

Taeyong whistled, loudly, and then dipped his head as he turned away, leaving Jaehyun out in the open as you turned to look, answering the cat-call. He watched your brows rise as you looked at him, pinning him for the offense. “That’s disgusting,” you called over.

Jaehyun swallowed, hard, and threw his elbow back into the ribs of the older male who’d just put him on the spot. “Didn’t mean any offense by it; just know a beauty when I see one,” Jaehyun tried to save while Taeyong clutched his ribs.

You turned to face him—typically men didn’t respond like that when you called them out for something like that. Your head tilted slightly as you eyed him up and down, following his legs a little longer than you thought, but you knew you were caught when he cleared his throat. “You obviously know there are better ways to compliment a woman,” you noted and your eyes met his after you took a few steps closer.

He looked at you, most cautiously now. “Tell your friend there that cat-calling is rude and distasteful and that he could take a few pointers from you,” you commented with a wink and turned on your heel to head back down the street.

“You hear that, Taeyong? You’re rude and distasteful,” Jaehyun muttered through his teeth as he continued to watch you go. In their business, it was easy to come across anyone that they probably shouldn’t, even girls—Jaehyun was cautious while Taeyong was reckless; it got them into a lot of trouble sometimes. “I thought you would have learned your lesson fucking around with girls the last time that happened and she gave you a titty-twister and kicked you down.”

“She did not kick me down!”

“He doesn’t even deny the titty-twister part,” another laughed.

“How could he, his nipple was purple for weeks.”

Jaehyun phased out of the conversation, looking into the distance to watch you go. He had a suspicious feeling about you, something was unsettling. Your hair whipped back and forth as you walked, and just the way you walked told him a lot about you.

“You good, Jaehyun?” a voice brought him back to earth.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, turning towards his friend that was now grabbing his arm while the others continued to tease Taeyong.

“What’s up?”

“It’s nothing; just a feeling I guess,” Jaehyun replied, turning back towards the group as the boys gathered to head the opposite direction. The boys were pushing each other around in front of Jaehyun as they walked, just general goofing around. Their dynamic was interesting; it was hard to tell when there was good time off or not.

NCT was what they were called. That was the code name given to them by a government experiment that soon fell off the map and was swept under the rug. They were all psychoanalyzed to find out how they would react to committing crimes—it was supposed to be a social experiment to survey crime in the city, to see how certain group would interact if they were threatened by another.

They all received proper training by the highest decorated operatives in not only martial arts and weapons training to make them lethal, but also intelligence, technology, basic skills such as lock picking, hacking, fingerprinting, sweeping… any skill they could possibly need to commit the most high profile crimes, they were trained in.

It just made it extra interesting that they were all young kids. Who would suspect them to do anything more heinous than corner store robberies? Well, that was the whole point of their unit.

Only, it spiraled out of control. Basic police couldn’t apprehend them and the government branch that brought NCT to light would never admit to being the culprits behind it—they were stuck between a rock and a hard place: give themselves up to get NCT off the streets, or sweep it under the rug as if it never happened to save their own asses.

In a corrupt government system that only cared about themselves, of course the only option was to sweep it under the rug.

The hard part for NCT was trying to live a normal life after that. They’d had no proper life skills, they’d all joined the program since being young kids, desperate parents to give their kids a better life while blindly throwing their lives away. Crime was all they knew before too long. Yuta was the only one who held a steady job for any amount of time longer than a year, but that wasn’t going to pay bills and put food on the table.

Most of them resorted to basic pickpocketing, going to the richest part of the city and use the tactics they’d learned. Stealing expensive watches, jewelry, car keys, wallets, identification and credit—anything they could get their hands on, that’s what put food on the table and paid their rent.

The hardest part about the whole thing was, once joining this government program; they were given new names with no actual record. Anything that hit a record concerning any of their names was automatically deleted. The whole point of using crime to survey crime was to ensure your operatives didn’t get caught. Their identifications didn’t show up on any database imaginable, no family records, no school records, no birth records. They were basically invisible people living in a real people’s world. Which is why it was so hard for any of them to get jobs—if they did, they’d have to be paid under the table.

Not to mention, because of their skills and resources, it wasn’t hard to forge identification and records which they all kept themselves. Some would say it was an impossible program, that there was no way a group of young boys could run an operation as smoothly as this, but that was the whole point of their training, right? Once everyone was convinced it was impossible, that’s when it all blew over. There were less search parties looking for people that no longer existed, all “evidence” was burned or erased.

But the crime continued. It was their only livelihood anymore.

All of this was spinning around in Jaehyun’s head while they walked. Something in him triggered that whole very, very recent past. It was swirling so hard and so fast that the only thing that seemed to bring Jaehyun back to earth was the sound of a blaring car horn and three or four different hands on him to pull him out of the way of oncoming traffic.

“Jaehyun! Are you good, bro?” a hand waved in front of his face.

“I swear I’ve seen her somewhere before,” he muttered, basically ignoring his friend, Johnny’s question.

“You need sleep, man,” Taeyong commented, taking a good hard look at Jaehyun’s face. Sure, he looked a little tired, they all did—it was part of the job.

“I don’t think I’m hallucinating, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I wasn’t implying,” Taeyong laughed. “You’ve been pretty out of it all day. Maybe some food would do everyone good.”

Jaehyun and the rest of the group nodded. They headed out to the nearest restaurant, a lot of chatter focused around Jaehyun to keep his mind where it belonged; which was here and now. But even as the chatter continued, shifting away from Jaehyun, his focus shifted back out, drawing Yuta’s attention. He was Jaehyun’s partner—the ones who were always on the floor doing the recon and the distracting. They were the smooth talkers, so they were pretty close.

“Hey; seriously, are you okay? Even since you saw her, you’ve been out of it. What did you see?” Yuta muttered to him, trying to keep the conversation between the two of them as to not cause a fuss.

“Maybe I am just tired, I didn’t recognize her face but I’ve seen that walk before.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just fascinated by her backside?” Yuta joked but after earning a glaring look from Jaehyun turned it back serious. “I believe you, Jaehyun. But there are just so many people we see on a daily basis, plus I’m not really sure what its relevance is. Just chill, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

[smokeybrand]

Time to Go to Work

One more episode left! So far, i have absolutely adored The Falcon and Winter Soldier. It’s been one hell of a ride and it didn’t take three episode to get going. This thing definitely hot the ground running and i appreciate that. Last episode was A LOT and there are so many threads left untied with a single episode to go so I'm definitely a little sus about the landing but i have faith. Anyway, here’s the sh*t that hit me for this, the penultimate episode of what has turned out to be the MCU’s best show. So far. Loki is looking real right...

He just ran away? Motherf*cker decapitates guy with Cap’s shield and he just runs away from the scene of his murder?? USAgent is an asshole but, like, dude has a code. He’s not a coward. This is straight up character assassination.

I like how Sam has consistently tried to de-escalate sh*t throughout this entire episode count and someone is always just f*cking his whole sh*t up. This is Sam’s actual job. This is what he did before he decided to start Avenging. Counseling and conflict resolution. Dude can talk down actual monsters and yet, ever gets the chance to actual make it count. Sh*t kinda whack, son..

Dope three-way fight though. Feels a lot like that Civil War scrap but, you know, less. Not bad, you really get to see what Sam can do, but just, less. No cap or Iron Man but still pretty powerful. Damn fine scrap.

Hey, Torres! I forgot he was in this. Kind of curious if he’ll get the Falcon mantle eventually. Or, you know, the Vampire/Falcon mutate thing. That s*t is corny but the MCU is pretty great at cleaning up sloppy sh*t like that.

John Walker is an asshole but dude got mad shafted. They effectively ruined this man for doing exactly what he was ordered to do. HE was a soldier. He was THE soldier. They chose him to be cap. Forged him to be a weapon. They made him

Hey, Valentina Allegra de Fontaine! Super deep cut! Looks like she’s working for Ross instead of Fury. Admittedly, i know next to nothing about this chick, never really a huge Nick Fury guy, but i adore that they got Julia Louis-Dreyfus for the part. I love me some Elaine and she’s just generally excellent at anything she decides to take part in.

Zemo, no! We got a whole episode left and the good Brown has been lost to us. I mean, not really, dude is definitely a Thunderbolt later, but I'd be lying if i said Helmut wasn’t the best f*cking thing about this show. Still, dope redemption arc.

That interaction with Isaiah and Sam was an interesting one. Had to be f*cking ridiculous for this dude to endure all of that, simply for being Black and Super-Soldier’d. His story is f*cking awful but it’s the story of being Back in America.

Moral of this story? Don’t trust the f*cking guv’ment.

I’m on a boat, motherf*cker!

Looks like Bucky got his swagger back maybe? I mean, they played that feel good music over the montage so, i guess? Also, this boat is f*cked up, man. Trash the f*cker or sell it for scrap!

Yo, is Sharon REALLY the Power Broker? That is insane levels of character assassination right there. She’s a f*cking Carter, man. Technically Steve Rogers, creepily an almost ex-girlfriend, one hundred percent bad ass, and solidly Lawful aligned. If she’s the Power Broker, i am disappoint.

It’s dope they showed Sam practicing wit the shield. It makes sens that he wouldn’t be able to just, Steve Rogers that sh*t right off the bat. dudes not a Super-Soldier, he’s just a real fit guy. Makes sense he’s got to learn how to properly utilize it.

F*cking Batroc the Leaper, man. Feels a bit disingenuous that he’s going to be Sam’s first big bad but whatever. I mean, technically Karli is but, you know, not really?

What’s in the boooooox?? I already know what’s in the box. It’s just wack we got blue-balled like that. But, on the plus, we’ll actually get to see Falcon-Cap unlike brown suit Wolverine so there’s that.

Alright, Johnny Walker, you've officially lost your sh*t. Full vigilante it is.

This episode was a little longer than the previous few and it definitely feels like it. I think that’s because this is the exposition dump episode. Like, this s the one where everything is explained and you finally get those pay-offs or whatever. I enjoyed what we got in number five. Not a lot of action but a dope watch anyway. Hopefully this thing sticks the landing because the run up has been some of the best Marvel content I've seen since Far From Home. Like, WandaVision was fun but it wasn’t top tier. They kind of botched Agatha. That was a mistake. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier hasn’t botched a thing just yet and i am living for it.

[nxjacbbnc-blog]

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Cheeky Lukas Podolski takes credit for Bastian Schweinsteiger's return to Manchester United trainingThe midfielder had been exiled to the fridges at Carrington, https://www.ccmjerseys.com but returned to the first team picture on Monday morningByJoe Mewis15:29, 31 OCT 2016Look who's back: Bastian Schweinsteiger has returned to training (Photo: Man Utd via Getty) Get FC updates directly to your inbox+ SubscribeThank you for subscribing!Could not subscribe, try again laterInvalid EmailFormer Arsenal striker Lukas Podolski has taken the credit for Bastian Schweinsteiger's return to training with the Manchester United first team squad.Former Bayern Munich star Schweinsteiger had been exiled from the first team picture this season, as Jose Mourinho forced the veteran midfielder to train either on his own or with the Under 23 squad.He was even missing from United's annual team photograph which was published last week.But the former Chelsea boss appears to have had a change of heart, as the World Cup winner joined the rest of the first team squad for training on Monday morning.And one man has taken all the credit for Schweinsteiger's return.Cheap Jerseys free shipping his former Germany team mate Podolski, who took to Twitter on Monday afternoon to tweet the hashtag 'PoldiKnowsBest' and a snap of his old pal back in training at Carrington.That latest social media missive came after the former Arsenal forward tweeted 'schweinsteiger please' during Manchester United's 4 0 loss to Chelsea on October 23.It is unclear about whether the move will mean a return to the squad for Schweinsteiger, who earlier this season said that United would be his last club in Europe, hinting at a move to China or America.Back in August, Mourinho was asked if Schweinsteiger would play for United this season.Liverpool FCJamie Carragher and Liverpool fans go into Twitter MELTDOWN as Reds pull out of deal to sign Virgil van DijkAfter Liverpool released a statement www.cheapjerseyschinatrade.com for their conduct in chasing the Dutchman and pulling out of the deal, the club's fans were not a happy bunchSummer transfer windowTransfer news LIVE: Liverpool end interest in Virgil van Dijk, plus latest on Kylian Mbappe, Hector Bellerin and every dealThe summer sales are on the way as clubs look forward to a busy few months. Keep up to date with all the latest hereSummer transfer windowTransfer news LIVE: Liverpool end interest in Virgil van Dijk, plus latest on Kylian Mbappe,Hector Bellerin and every dealThe summer sales are on the way as clubs look forward to a busy few months. Keep up to date with all the latest hereMichy BatshuayiChelsea refusing to allow wantaway Michy Batshuayi's transfer until they sign a new strikerClubs across Europe are after the 33m Belgian, who confirmed he wants to be playing more next season in a World Cup yearWayne RooneyManchester United's Wayne Rooney costing himself a Premier League transfer with refusal to take a pay cutEverton, Newcastle and more are interested, but cannot match Chinese offers that could double his current 12m a yearLiverpool transfer cheap nfl jerseys still hopeful on Mohamed Salah transfer despite making a move for fellow winger Gelson Martinsing Lisbon man will remain Plan B unless it emerges there is ZERO chance of a deal with for Reds' first choice England football teamHugely talented England aren't up to it mentally, claims Hull City bound ex Russia boss Leonid SlutskyThe 46 year old saw that frailty first hand at last summer's Euros as his men snatched late draw with the Three Lions Cheap Jerseys free shipping.

[fathersonholygore]

BBC Two’s Peaky Blinders Season 4, Episode 2: “Heathens” Directed by David Caffrey Written by Steven Knight

* For a recap & review of the Season 4 premiere, “The Noose” – click here * For a recap & review of the next episode, “Blackbird” – click here In Small Heath, Birmingham, we see the old familiar streets where the Peaky Blinders call home. Last we left the lads, both John (Joe Cole) and Michael (Finn Cole) were gunned down in front of John’s place. John died on the spot, whereas Michael held on, making it to the hospital. Polly (Helen McCrory) stood by his side while doctors tried operating on him. So, what do the Blinders do now? Tommy (Cillian Murphy) and Arthur (Paul Anderson) see their younger brother, shot up, bloody, dead in the morgue. They lament his being killed right in front of his own home. They also know what must be done, to avenge his death, as well as to protect the remainder of their family. Esme (Aimee-Ffion Edwards) is determined to be finished with the family, she wants her children to be amongst good, decent people, to not grow into the same type of people as the rest of the Shelby clan. Tommy: “Say it, brother.” Arthur: “In the bleak midwinter” (reference to Tommy’s earlier uttering of the phrase; popular with soldiers during WWI) It’s back to the drawing board. Pol’s not wholly confident anymore, plus she has mental health issues that are clinging to her. Tommy tries rallying everybody else to lead a charge against the New York Mafia coming for them, against Luca Changretta (Adrien Brody) and his “vendetta” on their family. For his part, Arthur is well prepared. Only problem is they’ve got to stick together. Wonder how long until that starts cracking, especially with Aunt Pol falling apart. In the meantime, Tommy’s send word to a man named Aberama Gold (Aidan Gillen), they need professional, bad men; Johnny Dogs (Packy Lee) particularly doesn’t like this idea, saying that Gold and his men are “savages.” Either way everybody in Small Heath on the side of the Blinders is being armed. Out in a field, Tommy and the Shelbys and all their friends gather to serve John’s last wishes, of being sent up in smoke. Here, we finally discover that they were all waiting, during WWI, to be finished off, and Jeremiah (Benjamin Zephaniah) suggested they all sing “In the Bleak Midwinter” together. They did, and they survived, no assault ever came. Thus the tradition, of saying the name in times of madness. of grief, and so on. When a man is ready to shoot Tommy from the distance, Aberama turns up to stab his friend brutally; the gunman is shot, too. The funeral was a trap, to draw out their enemies. Already the family’s crumbling. Polly wants to keep Michael safe, she wants to go off to another continent, start a new life. But he refuses. He wants her to get better, he’ll get better. They need to get through this latest snag with the family and then he’ll go, off to Australia with his mother. Because Tommy needs her influence around, to not go off the rails, and they need Tommy to survive the vendetta. Things are getting a bit more involved than Tommy anticipated, in regards to Mr. Gold, who wants to purchase Charlie Strong’s (Ned Dennehy) iron works yard. Problem being the yard has been in the family for ages. So Mr. Shelby offers a coin toss, so long as Mr. Gold puts his daughters on the block for him to have sex with, too. And the coin, for the Irish gypsy clan, is “sacred.” Very much so. The whole thing puts Aberama in his place, for the time being. Turns out Aberama’s grandfather and Tommy’s grandfather spent time together, though it “ended badly” in a pub one night. Now these men sit together, trying to work as one. They get talking about business. Seems that Mr. Gold’s boy Bonnie (Jack Rowan) is a wannabe boxer, so it’s looking like he wants the lad to get rained down at the local Blinders scrap ring. Down at the factory, Tommy sets up a makeshift ring to let Bonnie fight an ex-boxer now working for the Shelbys in the forge. They have at it. Doesn’t seem like much of a fair fight, the older fella’s a hell of a lot bigger. Yet after a calculated minute or so, Bonnie starts laying it on him, knocking the big man flat on his ass. Might prove profitable for the Blinders if they take advantage, plus another tough hand to have around when needed. Meanwhile, Jessie Eden (Charlie Murphy) is there to meet with Tommy again. More union business. Nothing is going as she’d hoped, he’s trying to call her bluff. She’s tough, though. She isn’t immediately going to back down. Jessie blows the whistle, signalling for the strike to commence, and the workers all walk out of the factory. Later, Tommy has another meeting from the European Council for Trade, hoping to discuss importing and exporting of car parts. Who’s come to see him? Well, it’s Mr. Changretta himself. Although he’s using a false name. The two men sit together, doing quite a tense dance. They talk of WWI, France, and more. Gradually, Tommy figures it out fully. We see the difference between the Mafia and the sort of ragtag gangsters in Birmingham. We also begin seeing the reach of Changretta, who sent someone into the Shelby offices to find Tommy’s gun, disarm it of its bullets; the same bullets Luca counts, naming one for each Shelby to be killed. “None of you will survive,” he explains grimly to Mr. Shelby.

Holy shit, what an episode! I expected Luca’s full arrival would be wild, I didn’t expect for it to really rock Tommy as a character, right to his foundation. Cannot wait for more, this season is proving already in its opening two episodes to be one of the best so far. “Blackbird” is next week. Peaky Blinders – Season 4, Episode 2: “Heathens” BBC Two's Peaky Blinders Season 4, Episode 2: "Heathens" Directed by David Caffrey…