#&&. Just gotta get through the last five days which shall be... interesting to say the least

[charmerquilled]

Man. Just 7 more days. And then I’ll be with Twinnie 😊

[cades-outsider]

Older Johnny Lawrence X Reader *SMUT*

Warnings? SMUT! SMUT! Language! And praising!

Praise Me

Walking along the side walk you smile to yourself as Cobra Kai comes into view, one of your good friends Johnny Lawrence had opened up his very own dojo. You knew his past with his sensei Krease, Johnny after much trusting had told you everything that Krease had put in his head and done to him.

Johnny explained that he was not going to put the kids in that situation Krease had done to him and his friends. Pushing open the door the famous bell chimes as you walk in, the door closing behind you.

Johnny comes out of the back drying his hands with a towel, he smiles once he sees that it’s you. "Y/n hey" he greets pulling you into a hug.

You inhale his scent which consisted of fresh green mint, causing you to swoon as you hugged back. "Hey Johnny" you giggle.

Oh how much he loved that pretty giggle of yours, it was music to his ears. "Where’s Miguel" You ask curiously as you both pulled away from the hug.

"His mom called him, she said she needed to speak to him about something" Johnny shrugs throwing the towel on the beating mannequin as you like to call.

"How about we talk in my office" He says smugly, now that he had a office causing you to giggle.

"I’d like that Sensei Lawrence" You play along as he takes your hand and leads you into his office.

He goes to his fridge and pulls out one of his Coors Banquets Beers "want one?" He questions looking at you.

You debate for a moment before shaking your head "sure, why not" you start "-I gotta see what the hype is about these, they must be good if the Johnny Lawrence loves them" You tease as he takes the two beers and places them on his desk.

He sits in his office chair while you sit in the comfortable chair on in front of him "well then-" he stops for a moment to do his famous 'beer opening trick' "-here you go" he says handing it over to you before doing the same with his.

He holds his beer up in the air "to...." he hums as he thinks of nothing to celebrate to causing you to laugh.

"To Johnny Lawrence doing something he loves" You say rising your beer up hitting it with his gently.

Johnny smirks shaking his head before taking a sip, you do the same "Hmm, pretty good Lawrence" you chuckle as you hold the bottle in your hand resting it on your thigh.

"Speaking of love.... have you been seeing anybody?" Johnny asks taking a bigger gulp of his beer this time.

You chuckle "nope, I swear I grew up in the wrong time" You joke.

Johnny raises his brows "why do you say that?" He asks curiously.

You sigh "it’s just the men, well I can’t even say men. Boys, are so not gentlemen like at all" You say shaking your head.

"Why what are they like now?" He asks genuine.

"They are definitely not romantic-" you scoff "-they don’t open doors for me, or the don’t do any romantic gestures" you sigh "-there just not educated" you giggle at the last part causing Johnny to smile.

"Oh and the sex!" You groan throwing your head back "-the sex is just horrible" You finally let loose.

You notice Johnny’s hands grip his beer firmer as his hand starts to turn white before he calms down "seems like you get the young and dumb batch" he chuckles gulping down some more beer.

"Ugh, remember my last relationship?" You question.

"Oh that guy was a dick, I can’t believe he did that to you" Johnny says gritting his teeth.

"Me either" you say remembering the time your ex treated you so badly you ran to Johnny’s at three am at night, but he held you that whole night not complaining once.

"But you were there for me" You hum as a small smile forms onto your lips.

Johnny smiles "always" he says as your eyes connect, his beautiful icy clue ones piercing through yours as if he was reading everything about you in that moment.

  "Johnny I need to tell you something" You say breaking the already sexual tension.

  He clears his throat "yes?" He asks taking another sip of beer.

  'I'm into you' You think "I'm into older men" But you actually say.

  Johnny's eye widen, until slowly a small smile appears on his face now feeling confident that he could have a chance with you.

  "Let me prove to you that all men aren't like that" He stops for a moment "-let me take you out on a date" he finishes as he slides the unfinished beer in the trash beside him.

  You're taken aback but also excited seeing as you have kinda caught feelings for him "alright deal" you smile.

  Johnny smiles widely in return "great I'll pick you up at 7" he says with a small smirk.

  "In the firebird?" You smirk.

  "You know it baby" Johnny winks as you get up, getting ready to leave.

  He stands up "give me that, I don't need my gir-" he stops before shaking his head "-I don't need you drinking and driving" he says taking the beer from you and placing it in the trash.

You chuckle at his antics "I wasn’t even going to carry it" you say sticking out your tongue at him playfully.

"Hey. That’s offensive" He says 'seriously' as he leans on the wall.

"Oh I bet Sensei" You joke as you start walking out of the office.

"I’ll see you at seven!" You hear Johnny yell as he runs out of the office.

You turn around "I’ll see you at seven" you repeat as a blush forms over your cheeks.

Johnny rushes over to the door and opens it for you letting you walk out, as he does he kisses your cheek. As you walk out of the building and into your car, your heart races as you could not believe that just happened.

On the way home all you could do was smile, excited for your date with Johnny. Someone who you caught feeling for on the first day of meeting but didn’t know.

You make it home and start rummaging through your dresses trying to pick out something not to like 'desperate' as they call or something to revealing.

You finally just decide on a white well fit thigh high dress and some black heels. You weren’t insecure about your body, but sometimes you would get self cautious.

Deciding to go all out tonight you apply the littlest amount of make up and curl your hair.

Meanwhile, Johnny was throwing almost every piece of clothing he owned around his room, panicking as he couldn’t find anything to wear. With a frustrated sigh he throws all his clothes back in his closet before seeing a white suit catch his eye.

'That’s the one' he thought as he picked it up and slid it on. By the time you both were done it was around 6:50. Johnny was thankful that you only lived five minutes away from him.

He quickly got in his fire bird and made his way to you. You were more excited than anything. I mean how often is it that a guy you like asks you out on a date, and especially a decent guy.

Johnny arrived at your door at exactly 7 o'clock on the dot. Hearing a knock on your front door you walk as fast as you can to the door in heels, letting out a breath of nervousness as you open the door.

  Johnny looks up, his mouth gape open as he looks at your beauty "I- wow were matching" you say noticing Johnny's white suit that he looked mighty fine in.

  "-wow you look beautiful" Johnny says mind blown, I mean he always admired you and thought you were the most gorgeous girl but now you just looked breath taking.

"Thank you Johnny, you look handsome... as always" you compliment with a sweet smile.

The smallest blush falls onto his face, so faint you almost missed it. Johnny holds out his hand gesturing for you to take it "shall we go?" He asks as you take his hand.

  "We shall" You comment with a side smile.

He leads you to his well cleaned up fire bird, rushing to your side to open the door for you "my lady" he jokes, you giggle as you slide into the passengers seat.

"Thank you may gentlemen" You blush, as Johnny runs over to his side entering the car and cranking it up.

The drive was silent, comfortable silence of course. You both were just simply enjoying each other's company as you finally made it to your destination.

A small fancy Italian restaurant, Johnny gets out of his side and rushes to your side opening the door before you could even put your hand on the handle to get out.

You smile as your heart swells with joy and love, "thank you" you comment politely as you get out of the car.

Johnny closes the door and takes your hand "my pleasure love" He says grabbing your hand and walking you up to the door once again opening the door for you leading you in.

  A waitress leads you to your guys table handing you your menus and asks for your drink preference. Soon she leaves giving you some time to pick out your orders before bringing your favorite drink back and Johnny's coke.

  You both order your meals after she returns, before going back and putting your orders in. You rest your chin on your hand as you gaze up at Johnny.

Johnny freezes "what? Is there something on my face?" He asks wiping his clean face.

You chuckle "no of course not you’re just a pretty sight" you reply giddily.

He smirks "is that all you see me as?" He questions playfully.

"No I see you as much more" you wink as the waiter brings your food before Johnny could reply back.

She places the food on the table before quickly rushing off, noticing the long awaited sexual tension.

You clear your throat "so, how does it feel to be back into karate sensei?" You spark up, interested as you both dig into your meals.

"It feels great to be back, granted Miguel is my only student but he’s a good kid" He compliments with a small smile.

"Yeah, I’ve seen you guys practice he’s getting better" You say impressed.

"I know, he deserves so much more than I can give him" Johnny says looking down.

"Hey don’t say that, you’re doing amazing and I’m so proud of you. He couldn’t learn from anyone better" you say, completely dissing his thought.

Johnny looks up, both of your eyes connect. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife "you wanna get out of here?" He asks before putting his fork down.

"Yes" you answer quickly already getting excited for what’s to come.

The waitress comes over "we’ll take the check please" Johnny says with a smile that reads 'were in a hurry here' to which the waitress quickly nods becoming awkward.

Though she doesn’t move "uh- you guys didn’t finish so there for it’s on the house and you get to keep your meals" she explains grabbing two container boxes and handing them to you.

"Thank you" you say politely as you hand one to Johnny and the waitress quickly runs away.

"That was weird I’ve never heard of that before" you say as you put your food in the box, Johnny doing the same knowing you’ll both get hungry eventually.

"I know" He comments as he grabs your hand and quickly rushes you guys outside.

He places the boxes on the hood of his car before gently pushing you up against the passenger door and connecting his lips to yours in a passionate kiss.

You reply by pushing your lips against his firmer, before things could escalate to quickly and you’d give the whole restaurant a show Johnny quickly pulls away opening the door for you letting you sit, and getting into his side.

Nothing was said while driving, just heavy breathing as you both were excited for what was to come once Johnny made it to his apartment.

Soon you guys parked and Johnny quickly rushed over to your side of the door and helped you out. Before you could make it to Johnny’s door he placed his lips on yours. Your back hitting the door, he quickly pulls out his keys and opens the door letting you both in and closing it with his foot.

Johnny carries you over to the wall and pushes you up against it, not to hard but enough to make you weak. He reconnects your lips back together once again in a rougher kiss, still gentle.

He pulls away to trail slow and sweet kisses to your neck to which he immediately finds your sweet spot as you let him know by moaning.

He continues to abuse that spot as you start to speak up "Johnny.... more" you practically beg.

He caved in and taps your leg signaling for you to jump to which you do. The ends of your dress ripping immediately, causing you to gasp and Johnny to laugh.

"It’s fine I didn’t like it anyways" you say breathlessly as being turned on took you out of your thinking process.

You roughly place your lips back onto his as he carries you over to the kitchen counter roughly swapping everything away with his free arm before sitting you on it.

"Then you won’t mind if I take it off?" He asks for consent, shyly because he didn’t want to mess this up.

"Yes please" You say giving him permission.

As a gentleman he doesn’t finish ripping the dress but he pulls the zipper down slipping it halfway off til it wrapped around your waist.

Your strapless white bra being exposed to which Johnny admires as he places more kisses over your neck and the top of your boobs.

Johnny picks you back up before this time carrying you in his room placing you gently on his bed. "God your so beautiful" He compliments as he kisses up your chest, going down to your stomach.

He pulls the rest of the dress down, discarding it somewhere in the room. He runs his hand gently around your thighs and stomach.

You whine in pleasure he comes back up and places his fingers over the button on the front of your bra "can I?" He asks watching your eyes for any sign of discomfort to find none.

You simply nod giving your consent as he unbuttons the bra slowly dragging it down your body before discarding of it. Your breasts now bare to him to which you look away shyly as your hands start to cover yourself up.

"Don’t my love, you look like a goddess" he starts before placing kisses all over your chest "-you’re so perfect" Johnny finishes, love dripping with every word.

He swirls his tongue around your harden nipple causing your back to arch as a moan falls out.

He places kisses everywhere down your stomach until he gets to your soaking core. He tugs at the side of your underwear asking to pull it off to which you nod letting him do so.

Your bottom half now completely bare to him, he spreads open your legs resting his hands on your thighs. He kisses just above your core, slowly he trails more kisses until he finally connects his lips with your clit, sucking harshly but lovingly.

"You’re so beautiful" He praises once more as continues his assault on your clit, now slipping two fingers into your dripping core.

Wanting you to cum around his cock, he takes his fingers out before sucking them dry and licking his lips causing more moans to fly out your mouth

"You taste wonderful" he says as lust fills his bow darkened blue eyes.

He pulls his shirt off revealing his toned shaped body before discarding of his pants leaving himself only in his boxers.

"Are you sure you want to do this Y/n" Johnny asks sincerely.

"Of course I want to do this with you Johnny" You comply.

Nodding he removes his boxers letting his hard on slap against your core, both letting out a groan at contact.

Lining his cock up at your entrance he looks up at you once more only for you to nod your head yes.

He slowly slides his cock inside your core, feeling you clench around his cock causing him to moan you following behind feeling him stretch you out.

"I’m going to treat you so well" He says whilst rubbing your thighs slowly thrusting his hips against yours.

You moan "Johnny-" you whimper as he speeds up his pace more.

His cock hitting all the right places and more, thrusting at a firmer pace he grips your hips so he could go faster. Hitting your G- spot dead on causing your back to arch and a moan to escape your plump lips.

"You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well" he compliments as he try’s to contain his breathing and moans.

"Princess, you’re taking my cock in like a good girl" He praises as he slams his hips against yours finding a faster rhythm.

You whimper "so g-good" you stutter as Johnny leans down, readjusting his posture to kiss you.

You run your hands through his hair as you feel your climax reaching. "I’m close Johnny-" you moan aloud as you chase that burning sensation.

"Yeah? You’re going to cum for me beautiful" he continues to praise as he drops a hand down to your core and rubs your clit in figure eights causing you to arch your chest into his and cum around his cock, feeling him twitch as you do so.

Johnny follows behind as he cums inside you, filling you up as he continues to ride out both of your orgasms.

Gently pulling out his cock he turns over to his back and pulls you to lean into his chest. "Words cannot describe how amazing that was Y/n" he says feeling as though he was on top of the world.

You nod agreeing along "it was amazing Johnny" you compliment.

"Y/n.... I love you" Johnny says waiting patiently for your response.

You nuzzle your neck into his; lovingly "I love you Johnny Lawrence"

_______________________________________________

Thank you for requesting @peachymelon69 I hope you enjoyed!

[skellebonez]

Because you are a fantastic writer, and because I simply adore what you write, how about a continuation to the "Wukong is once again being an idiot and lying to everyone" prompt? And this is an open prompt! You can take this and go absolutely bonkers with it!

THE POWER YOU HAVE GIVEN ME SHALL NOT GO UNDERUTILIZED. This is a follow up to these two previous fills and I am just going off about what I think would be an interesting way to continue into season 3 at this point.

Warning: UH... Sun Wukong is not doing too great. Mild descriptions of his hidden injuries, Wukong is still immortal but what he hid would be very bad for people who are not.

"He's burning up," Pigsy said with a hiss as he pulled his hand away from Wukong's forehead. "Why is he burning up? What even happened to him!? He didn't look like this an hours ago, ain't he immortal-"

"Yeah, but not invincible," MK interrupted with a shake in his voice, watching as Sandy checked on his mentor's newly revealed injuries. "Not entirely anymore. He-he'll probably be fine! No, he will be fine, but he's-shit." He took in a shaky breath, trying to stand on legs that had long since fallen asleep in their awkward position holding his mentor's head off the hard floor. "I'll explain later, we need to see how bad he is now!"

He jumped, feeling a soft touch against his shoulder. Mei had knelt beside him at some point and it wasn't until she reached over to brush her thumb against his cheek that he realized he had started crying at some point.

The chef looked at him with an odd expression at MK's revelations, almost looking like he wanted to say something in anger before shaking his head and standing instead.

"You're right," he said as he turned to Sandy. He didn't need to ask the largest of the group anything, watching as he carefully scooped the Monkey King into his arms and headed off into what they had designated as "the med bay" with Tang following close by. "But you're gonna tell us exactly what that you mean by 'not entirely invincible' on the way, no more of this waitin to talk business! And we're going to walk there calmly."

MK couldn't find it in himself to argue.

~

"Well, shit," Pigsy sighed after MK rushed through the conversation he had shared with his mentor, pinching the bridge of his snout with a sigh. "That's... bad. That explains a whole lot about a lot of stuff, like how he managed to get himself caught on New Years, at least... You're sure he's still immortal?"

"Yeah," MK nodded, leaning into the grip Mei had on his shoulder as they walked. "Yeah, he made it a point to insist he still couldn't die."

"That's... good, right?" Mei offered with a chuckle, her usual exuberance seeming shaken up after seeing the state of the immortal monkey. "That means he'll get better!"

They paused at the entrance to the med bay, really more a spare bedroom they had stocked all the medical supplies Sandy apparently hoarded into, and MK gulped. He thought over Wukong's words, trying to find any piece he could to pick it apart. See exactly what, if anything, may have been just more half truths... he didn't want to believe he was still hiding things, not after that display of dropping the glamor. But MK himself had claimed he would explain everything to the others before... and lied still... and he was more like Sun Wukong than he first realized.

"I-I think so," he finally settled on an answer as they walked in, Sandy's back being the first sight they were greeted with. He could see the bottom half of Wukong's legs and feet, and Tang standing on the opposite side of the bed, as they were doing... something. "He said I was half invincible so... maybe he's still half himself? But he said they'd 'probably heal eventually' so..."

"Maybe he just meant they wouldn't scar!" Mei offered with a smile, moving to grip MK's hand. "Come on... we can't stop thinking about the good outcomes now..."

He turned, looking at his best friend. Her smile was off, uncertain, dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. None of them had slept well the last two nights. But her eyes, despite the uncertainty they shared with her smile, were as bright and hopeful as ever.

"Yeah..." MK said with a small smile.

"As much as we'd appreciate the help," Tang said suddenly, moving from behind the bed to stand before them. He had removed his scarf and robe, something that looked bizarre and wrong outside of seeing him in his sleep wear, and instead wore a simple tank top and his regular pants. He had gloves on... already spotted in red. "This room is a little cramped with all five of us and a bed."

"I'll go make us food," Pigsy said immediately, laying a hand on MK's back as he addressed Tang. "We don't gotta eat it when it's finished it's just... gonna be ready for when you're done, ok?"

MK couldn't help but smile a bit. Pigsy didn't just make food and let it sit, not normally. The only other time he could ever remember him doing that was after... DBK. After they volunteered to help clean up the city from the damage his possession caused. He'd made pots and pots of noodles and soup and plates of side dishes and buns and just kept them warm for when anyone came by to eat them. He stayed in his shop, waiting and handing out what he could.

He never once complained about the excess from the last batches, offering them for free to the first few customers the next day if they wanted it.

"Thanks, Pigsy," Tang said with a tired smile. "I think everyone is going to appreciate that."

"I'll finish the ship upkeep Sandy and I were doing," Mei offered, smiling at Sandy when he looked over his shoulder. "I've got a pretty good handle on the specifics by now."

"I trust you," Sandy said with a smile, the first thing he had said the entire time he'd joined them in the kitchen, and turned back to what he was doing.

There was an awkward silence as Tang started grabbing supplies from a cabinet to deposit on a nearby table and Pigsy and Mei turned to MK.

"I'm staying," he said firmly, but nothing could hide the shaking in his hands. "Just... I have to know how bad he is."

"OK," Pigsy said, and they made their way out before Mei turned back inside.

"When he wakes up? Give him one of these for me," she said before making a face and leaving in the opposite direction.

There was just enough of a chuckle that escaped him that MK thought he would be able to do that.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" Tang asked, far softer in tone than he had been before. "Sandy and I were already taking stock of his injuries and... MK, they're not good."

"Yeah, I'm sure," he insisted, taking in a calming breath. "I need to know exactly how angry I need to be at him."

His father figure didn't laugh, but there was amusement in his eyes as he returned back to where he was. "Alright, then you're going to need to help by handing me everything I ask for."

They settled into silence after that, and MK watched and Tang and Sandy worked to check on the unconscious immortal in the bed.

They had stripped off his robe, leaving him only in the pants he wore underneath it. He looked... he looked much worse without it on.

In addition to his eye (which seemed to have been the only hidden injury to have already healed as much as it may have) and the tear in his ear (which seemed to have at least been partly treated by himself already) his torso was littered with little cuts and scrapes. Sandy had rolled up the legs on his pants, one remaining upright and MK could see the slight swell of his knee from some kind of internal injury (probably muscular). His tail and arms were also similarly injured, one nasty gash in particular close to the end of the tail that had gotten almost as much treatment as his ear.

But on his side... there was sloppy bandaging slowly growing redder.

"Sandy, help me get this off him," Tang said, holding out his hand. "Scissors, please."

MK jolted, getting what Tang requested from the pile of stuff, watching as he carefully cut away the wrapping.

Tang winced as he finally lifted the dressing from Wukong's side, but did his model best to look as impassive as possible. There was a sizeable gash on it, large enough that Tang's entire hand barely covered it lengthwise, that had poorly treated with the lopsided gauze and bandages (probably stolen from this very room after he allowed them to treat his visible injuries). Blood had seeped through it, all fresh, and it was most likely reopened upon his fall. It looked... wrong. Not the way it should. The fur around it had been either ripped out or had fallen out and the skin was inflamed and angry.

"... no wonder he's burning up, this is becoming infected," he said evenly, detected, leaning over to look at the supplies he took from the medicine cabinet. "Sandy, I'm going to need your help moving him. MK?" He turned to the young man, face softening as he saw how pale his face had gotten at the revelations before him. "MK, I heard what you were telling Mei and Pigsy earlier. Mei's probably right, he'll be ok. OK?"

MK wanted to believe he had been, he'd been so honest after he told him to stop lying, but... but he still couldn't help but worry his mentor was still hiding more. And he felt so guilty thinking that. But he shook his head, dispelling the thoughts in his head.

"OK... what do you need?"

"Let's start with antiseptic. We need to clean this as quickly as possible."

~

It took longer than MK had hoped. And Sun Wukong had only barely stirred the entire time. Whether it was from the infectious fever or from exhaustion from using his remaining powers while sick he didn't know, but the most of a reaction they got him from was a sharp gasp and a twitch while cleaning the worst of his wounds.

Aside from that... nothing. He remained still, even as Sandy moved him without any effort and guided Tang through the medical stuff he wasn't sure how to handle.

MK knew Tang had some first aid training but this was much more than he expected him to pull off... he supposed he was learning a lot.

After a while Tang didn't need Sandy's help to move him anymore and the massive man shot MK an apologetic look before leaving. MK assumed he had left to wash up, and he did, but he eventually returned completely cleaned up with a hot cup of tea. It was the same flavor as the one he never got to finish during his conversation earlier.

He ruffled MK's hair after the young man gratefully took it, making Wukong more comfortable on Tang's instruction and pulling the covers over everything but one arm before saying something about needing to give Mei some tea as well, before leaving the three of them alone again. MK thought that, maybe, the sight of the Monkey King as he was was somehow making him... uncomfortable. No, not uncomfortable.

Sad.

He didn't say anything.

"He looked... almost fine when he saved me..." MK said after a long sip of his tea and a long silence of watching Tang handle everything else on his own, trying to squeeze his cup. Just like when he had tried before, it stayed firm. "He wasn't hurt then, not by LBD, so... he'd been keeping up those illusions since before he came. How long was he hurt?"

"There isn't really a way for us to know," Tang admitted, wrapping the fresh gauze around the king's arm as carefully as he could manage. It wouldn't have mattered if he wasn't careful, Wukong didn’t stir a bit. "It could have been hours... could have been days. With how quickly his eye healed vs his gash it's hard to tell. But my guess would be hours, given when you... when..." He trailed off, a shudder running through him. "He was actively giving you his powers, yeah? Maybe... he was giving you some of his healing abilities. Or maybe something else hurt his eye long before everything else. We just don't know."

"I think that was from Macaque," MK said with a wince, knowing he was going to have to explain more about who Macaque was eventually. "He said LBD has him under her control and he has the same injury on the opposite eye."

Tang froze for a half a second, the shine of the overhead lights on his glasses keeping Mk from seeing just what kind of expression he had. But he simply nodded, finishing up his work.

"We'll just... have to hope he'll be able to give us some better information when he wakes up," Tang said with a shrug as he removed his gloves. "This is all probably a mystery even to him... I'm going to wash up... will you be alright alone?"

"Yeah."

That was a lie, but he felt at least this one was warranted.

Because even if he wouldn't be fine he didn't want to leave.

~

It was nearly 11 hours before Sun Wukong opened his eyes again, though he didn't realize that at the time.

The morning sunlight was just barely shining through the window to the med bay, and he wondered for a moment why one of his eyes seemed to ache at the light and a tear rolled down his cheek from the strain at trying to see.

Then he remembered that he couldn't see out of it anymore. And the conversation with MK. And... passing out. In the kitchen.

This was definitely not the kitchen floor, which was bad. What he was laying on was soft and had something else laying on top of him. Which meant he had been moved to a bed.

Which meant he had been unconscious for more than a minute, which was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

He tried to move his left arm to cover his eye, but found something... holding it down. And with a little effort he moved his head, looking over to the side.

MK was slouched over on a chair, nearly face down on the blanket that covered him and holding his hand. In his other hand there was a comic book of some kind, horribly bent by his own face.

He had dark circles, much darker than he had the night before, under his eyes and there was a dried wetness on his cheeks that made Wukong's chest hurt at the sight.

He'd messed up... again. He shouldn't have held up the illusion, not for that long. He should have let it fall the moment they hit the drone and been honest instead of insisting that he go on his new Journey to the West on his own. Or at least let it fall the next day, when they questioned why he was so tired. So quiet. Why he was so still and wasn't running around the ship like they expected (the pulled muscle in his knee, which he very much noticed was tightly compressed by either a sleeve or a wrap, being the main culprit along side... that injury).

He sighed, doing his best to remove his hand from his student's carefully before gently resting it on his head and ruffling the hair there.

"...'m sorry, MK," He said tiredly. "No more secrets, I promise."

"You better mean that promise you asshole."

Wukong yelped and jumped, yelping again when it sent a jolt of pain down his side. "YOu're AwAKe!?"

MK sat up, almost smiling at the way his mentor sounded but holding it back. "Yeah... I kinda passed out after a while, but I woke up like... an hour ago? I've just been trying to get as much rest as I can, even if I'm not actually sleeping."

"That's... good," Wukong said with a nod, the way MK described the time frame feeling familiar. "So you saw... everything?"

"Everything."

"Well, shit."

"That's exactly what Pigsy said when I told him what happened," Mk said with a chuckle, reading over to grab a packet of some kind and a glass of water. "Tang gave me very specific instructions to make you take all of this. Or else."

"Or else... what?" Wukong chanced, raising an eyebrow.

"I dunno, I always took the medicine he gives me with that threat so I never got to find out," MK shrugged. "Pigsy says it's not worth finding out."

"I'll take his word for it," Wukong said with a sigh. It was probably best to take whatever it was regardless of threats, he could feel his fever still and he did not want to keep having to fight that off. So he took the medicine, a mixture of pills and some kind of powder MK mixed into his drink that made it taste oddly way too sweet and sour at the same time, and sighed as he closed his eyes again for a moment.

They sat in silence for only a minute before he spoke again.

"Your friends... did all this?" He gestured to himself, reaching up to feel the odd dressing on his ear.

"Tang and Sandy did," MK explained, and went on to tell him what happened. How they treated him. How Pigsy had food waiting for him now that he was awake. How MK stayed by his side just in case.

"Oh, and Mei wanted me to give you this," MK said before pausing, glowering at him in a way that looked odd on his student's face but probably would have looked horrifying on Mei.

"Oh... I made her that mad huh?"

"I think everyone is kinda angry at you to some degree," MK admitted before holding his mentor's hand again. "But... mostly we were worried. You're my mentor, and a part of our little group now. That's what we do. Worry about each other."

Sun Wukong felt another tear slip out of his injured eye, but not from strain.

It had been so long since anyone... worried about him.

He didn't know how much he missed knowing he was cared about like that.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

72 Hours In Montreal [Part I]

A/N: Many moons ago, the incomparably lovely @im-an-adult-ish​ pitched a Montreal concert fic idea (jokingly, I think), and quite a few of my followers fell in love with it. They were even kind enough to vote on which Queen member should be the love interest, and there was a clear winner: John! 

I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, and at last, here is the first of three chapters of this new mini-fic. I’m going to tag some of my past readers, but I WILL NOT TAG YOU AGAIN unless you ask me to. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy. 💜

Series Summary: John Deacon is a rock star at a crossroads. Y/N is a world-weary employee at a Yankee Candle shop. They’ll only ever have three short days in Montreal together...or will they??

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (not graphic). 

Word Count: 6.8k.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @escabell​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee​ @deacyblues​ @tensecondvacation​ @brianssixpence​ @some-major-ishues​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @youngpastafanmug​ @simonedk​ @rhapsodyrecs​ ​​​ @joemazzmatazz​​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee​​ @namelesslosers​​ @inthegardensofourminds​​ @sleepretreat​​ @hardyshoe​​​ @sevenseasofcats​​ @jennyggggrrr​​ @madeinheavxn​​ @whatgoeson-itslate​​​ @herewegoagainniall​​ @anotheronewritesthedust1​​ @pomjompish​​ @allauraleigh​​  @bluutac​​ @johndeaconshands​​ 

The obnoxious British men are still laughing. The one with the mustache, suspenders, and illogically tight red leather pants is standing on the tiptoes of his equally red Adidas shoes to paw candles off the top shelf so he can sniff them. The blond one has no less than eight jars balanced precariously in his wiry arms. Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing is billowing through the shop speakers.

“Oh my god, he’s gonna break something,” you moan in a whisper, covering your eyes but peeking through your fingers. Your apron is suddenly too tight around your waist; your cheeks are roaring with blood as you envision the inevitable confrontation: Sir, unfortunately you ruined some of our giant tacky overpriced candles and so now you have to pay for them. So sorry. Paper or plastic? We take Mastercard.

“Who?” Kevin asks. He’s holding a broom in one pudgy, pinkish hand and a dustpan in the other. He has surrendered.

“That one. Suspenders and moustache guy. Red shoes guy. Dorothy without Toto.”

Kevin cracks a smile. “That is frighteningly accurate. He is rather whimsical, isn’t he? Maybe he’ll click his heels and disappear back to London or wherever.”

“We aren’t in Kansas anymore,” you mutter in commiseration. Actually, to be perfectly literal, you’ve never been to Kansas in your life.

“Wait, I think I might have met that guy before somewhere.” Kevin squints with great concentration. “He looks oddly familiar…”

“Hm.” You check your eyeliner wings in your reflection in the cash register screen. From what you can tell, they’re every bit as tragically asymmetrical as you remembered. Spectacular.

“Staring won’t make it better,” Kevin notes, very unhelpfully.

“I know,” you reply, miserable, toying with your bangs so you can hide behind them.

“How does that even happen? The right one is practically a 90-degree angle. The left one looks like you drew it on with a Sharpie.”

You groan. “I’ll try to scrub them off during my break.”

“If you’re not too busy helping me sweep glass off the floor, sure,” Kevin says. “I told you, I took an electrical engineering class as an elective once. I could totally take a look at your bathroom.”

“I thought you said you failed that class.”

“No, I said I got a D in that class. Ds aren’t failing.”

“Well now you’ve convinced me.” You scrutinize your reflection again, frowning. You rent a rather dilapidated one-bedroom apartment above a bakery just a few blocks from the Yankee Candle shop. The apartment always smells like powdered sugar and baking bread, which you like. What you don’t like is everything else about it: the peeling paint, the low water pressure, the windows that you can’t wrestle open, the occasional mice, the shoddy electrical wiring. On any given day, there’s an approximately 27% chance that the bathroom light won’t turn on when you flip the switch. This morning you had been on the losing side of those odds, and with the only mirror in the apartment being the one mounted over the sink—and the overcast November skies outside offering painfully little natural light—you had haphazardly guesstimated your way through your makeup routine before dashing off to work. Your guesstimation skills, apparently, are not all that great.

“If he’s The Wizard of Oz...” Kevin points his broom handle from the snickering moustached man to the gangly, poodle-haired one who has been trying to decide between two candles—Christmas Cookie and Cinnamon Stick—for twelve uninterrupted minutes. He’s wearing a parka spotted with patches: a NASA emblem, a soaring rocket, a smiling green extraterrestrial face, Saturn and its rings. “That guy’s gotta be Star Wars.”

“Or Alien,” you suggest, clutching your chest and pretending to die melodramatically.

Kevin laughs. “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

“Close Encounters of The Third Kind.”

“What about that one?” Kevin nods to the guy who has large blue eyes and bleach-blond, fried tufts of hair sticking out in every direction and a grin that is simultaneously childish and foxlike. Under Pressure comes on the shop speakers, and the British men all start cheering and high-fiving each other, leaving their candles momentarily tucked under their arms or quivering precariously on the edges of wooden display tables. You are entirely mystified. “God, he’s gorgeous.”

“Bye Bye Birdie,” you decide. “Beautiful. Charming. Beloved by all. Perhaps a little dangerous. I can picture teenage girls sobbing themselves to sleep as he gallantly marches off to war.”

“You think he’s gay?” Kevin asks hopefully.

“I don’t think he’s dressed well enough for that.” The blond man is wearing a shapeless, polka-dotted sweater that has ‘NIVEA’ spelled across the front, for reasons that are difficult to fathom.

Kevin sighs, crestfallen. He suffered a nasty breakup with his boyfriend Patrick two weeks ago, and is enthusiastically on the hunt for a rebound to distract him. “You’re probably right. Okay, last but not least.” Kevin aims his broom handle at the fourth and final British stranger. “What shall we call him?”

You consider the man who has wandered away from the others. He’s wearing Levi’s, a black bomber jacket, aviator sunglasses, a mop of unwrangled auburn hair, thoughtful lines that break around the corners of his hidden eyes. He is browsing unhurriedly, perhaps even distractedly, through the fruit-scented candles. He picks up a jar of Macintosh Apple, sniffs a few times, then sets it back down precisely where he found it. He even spins the jar so it’s label-side-facing-outwards again. You warm to him immediately.  

“One of the James Bond movies?” Kevin offers. “He seems…enigmatic somehow. Esoteric. Yet still clearly leading man material.”

“Casablanca,” you say, not tearing your gaze from the stranger. “I can imagine him waving off some old flame on a foggy, night-draped airport runway, breaking hearts with sparse words of wisdom. Can’t you?”

“Oh, that’s exactly right!” Kevin sighs again, dreamily, yearningly. And whether he’s yearning for his ex-boyfriend Patrick or Bye Bye Birdie a.k.a. NIVEA-sweater man or passion or sex or love or maybe just the ineffable high that accompanies the beginnings of things, you couldn’t say.

You peer at your reflection in the cash register screen once again, feeling more self-conscious than ever. “Maybe if I—”

“Freddie!” Star Wars cries, and you whirl just in time to see The Wizard of Oz, whizzing around and giggling and preoccupied with teasing NIVEA-sweater man, stumble into the six-foot-tall tower of Christmas Tree-scented candles and send countless jars crashing to the tile floor.

“I knew it!” you unleash in a rush of misery and exasperation, the biting threat of tears in your eyes and the back of your throat. And of course, it isn’t just about the mess on the floor, it isn’t just about having to tell your manager and hoping to God he doesn’t fire you. It’s about your derelict apartment, it’s about your fucked up eyeliner, it’s about everything that’s happened in the past eighteen months; it’s about the never-ending feelings of helplessness and inertia and predestined ruin, it’s about not being able to get fifteen meters down the street before life throws up another red light, another jagged sinkhole gaping like ravenous jaws. And none of that is these ridiculous British men’s fault; yet still, in that moment the fury you feel towards them is overwhelming.

“Jesus christ,” Kevin mumbles, stepping out from behind the counter to survey the damage, his hands still clutching the broom and dustbin.

“You couldn’t just mosey around and ask which candles are on sale and maybe sniff one or two like a normal person?!” you explode. “You had to come in here acting like goddamn animals and destroy like a third of our inventory?!”

“I’m so sorry,” The Wizard of Oz sputters, looking at you and Kevin with wide, profusely apologetic dark eyes. Star Wars and NIVEA-sweater man are helping him to his feet, albeit with very spirited chidings. Kevin is grudgingly asking if he’s alright. Casablanca is already trying to sort through which candles are broken and putting those that survived aside. And when he casts furtive glances from behind his aviator sunglasses, they’re directed not at Kevin or The Wizard of Oz but at you.

“Freddie, bloody hell,” NIVEA-sweater man laments.

“I’ll pay for them all,” The Wizard of Oz tells you. “I’m so, so, so terribly sorry, you’re absolutely right to be cross with me, and I’ll pay for everything. Here, let me get my wallet…” He digs around in the pockets of his preposterously tight red leather pants.

“Uh…sir…” Kevin begins uncertainly, not wanting to break the bad news.

“It’s going to be hundreds of dollars,” you inform The Wizard of Oz. “Maybe over a thousand. You’re really going to pay that? Or are you just going to wait until we start sweeping up and then sprint out the front door the first chance you get?”

“Hey,” Kevin warns you quietly. He wants you to keep this job probably even more than you do. You are, by his own admission, far and away his favorite coworker.

“No, no, darling, please, let her scold me, I deserve it.” The Wizard of Oz at last locates his wallet. He sashays to the counter, brushing nuggets of glittering glass off his clothes, and counts out two thousand Canadian dollars in hundreds. “Will that do? You can keep the change as compensation for the inconvenience. And we’ll help clean up as well, has anyone got an extra broom?”

As you stare down at the money, shocked into speechlessness, three hulking men dressed in black come barreling into the shop.

“Lord in heaven, Freddie, what happened?!” one asks. He has a thick beard and an Irish accent and closely resembles a grizzly bear.

“I made a complete ass out of myself and am now trying to win the affections of this marvelous creature,” The Wizard of Oz replies, flourishing a hand towards you. “Is it working, dear?”

“Kind of,” you admit, still stunned.

“Oh my god.” The broom tumbles out of Kevin’s grasp and clatters on the floor. He points at The Wizard of Oz. “I know where I’ve seen you before. You…you…you’re Freddie Mercury, right?”

In reply, The Wizard of Oz only flashes an enormous, toothy, dazzling grin.

“Oh my god,” Kevin says again, a starry, awed smile rippling across his round face.

“Please don’t make his ego any bigger,” Star Wars pleads.

“And you’re Brian May!” Kevin replies. “And you’re…” He turns to NIVEA-sweater man, snapping his fingers, trying to remember. “Robbie…no, Ronnie…uh…Ricky…?”

“Roger Taylor.” But it comes out like ‘Rogah Taylah.’ NIVEA-sweater man extends a hand for Kevin to shake, not the least bit offended. “It’s a pleasure. Sorry about the candles.”

“No problem, sir!” Kevin squeaks as he takes Roger’s hand, beaming. The men in black—the band’s security, you’ve gathered—have descended upon the crime scene, confiscated Kevin’s broom and dustbin, and are rapidly clearing glass and chunks of candlewax from the floor and discarding the mess in a trash bin that usually collects only chewed gum and unwanted receipts.

“So I guess I probably shouldn’t have yelled at you,” you tell Freddie Mercury guiltily, all the venom in your voice evaporated. You’re no Queen superfan, true, but everyone knows the words to Bohemian Rhapsody and We Will Rock You and We Are The Champions. And Another One Bites The Dust. And Killer Queen. And Crazy Little Thing Called Love. And Somebody To Love. Your thoughts are suddenly a racing, indecipherable blur. Your knees are boneless. You’ve never met a celebrity before. Well, not unless you count professional hockey players, which you definitely don’t.

“No, you absolutely should have,” Freddie retorts. “I was dreadfully discourteous. I’m positively mortified about it. I should be punished severely. Have you got anything behind the counter to whip me with? A riding crop, perhaps?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Not that I know of. I’m sorry I called you an animal.”

“I’m sorry about the candles. There, now we’re even. Wait, not quite yet.” He calls over to Kevin: “Darling, how would you and your friend like front row seats at our show tonight?”

The squeal that bursts out of Kevin is not human.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Freddie Mercury says, very pleased.

“This is really too generous of you,” you protest, although your heart isn’t in it; Kevin might legitimately strangle you if you screw this up, and you’re finding that you want to see Queen in concert too. It’s something to interrupt the powerless, unrelenting monotony; it’s like something that might happen in a movie or a dream.

“Nonsense!” Freddie announces cheerfully. Star Wars and NIVEA-sweater man—or, rather, Brian and Roger—are chatting with the security guys and nodding along as the bearlike Irishman reviews the day’s itinerary.

You peer over at Casablanca. Now that the floor is mostly clear, he’s migrating towards you and Freddie. You glance apprehensively down at your reflection. “Goddammit,” you mutter, manipulating your bangs again, wishing you could disappear. “I meet a rock star for the first time ever and I look like this.”

“It’s not that bad,” Kevin says, obviously lying.

“I like it,” Freddie tells you, propping his elbows on the counter and resting his chin on his knuckles. “It’s very goth raccoon chic.”

“My bathroom light wouldn’t turn on this morning and I was late for work and I guesstimated and that was clearly a poor decision.” Poor decisions are my expertise, you think instinctively, and feel a tug of something you don’t quite have the words for. Shame, grief, disappointment, a raw sting like a flame beneath your palm, a dread like a child who’s lost their mother’s hand.  

“I’ve offered to take a look at the wiring!” Kevin exclaims. “I told you, a D is passing!”

“Kev, babe,” you reply. “I really, truly appreciate your enthusiasm, but you’ll probably just make it worse. And then my landlord will hate me and keep my security deposit and write me awful references and I’ll have to live in an endless string of ancient, hideous apartments until I die.”

“It’s an electrical problem?” Casablanca asks, pushing his aviator sunglasses up into his unruly hair. His unveiled eyes are a blueish grey—they remind you of one of the candles, maybe Beach Walk or Bahama Breeze—and very direct. He stares at you and you stare back, and at some point you realize that everyone is waiting for you to answer.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess so. Sometimes nothing happens when I flip the switch. That’s the extent of my handyman knowledge, unfortunately.”

Casablanca nods. “I could take a look, if you like.”

Not Beach Walk. Not Bahama Breeze. Warm Luxe Cashmere, maybe. “Now that really is too generous. I couldn’t possibly put a rock star to work on my terrible apartment.”

“John’s got a degree in electrical engineering, that’s right in his wheelhouse,” Brian counters.

“Yes,” Roger says, grinning, teasing in a way that has absolutely no malice in it. “He’s more of an engineer than a rock star anyway, isn’t he?”

“Seriously?” Casablanca—John, you mentally correct yourself—doesn’t seem much like an electrical engineer. But Roger’s right: he doesn’t really seem like a rock star, either. What John seems like is steady and abiding and perceptive, attentive, unflinching. He studies you like some people study paintings, like you once studied paintings; not in a passing-by-in-a-crowded-hallway type way but in a patient way, a methodical way, with the quiet that comes from knowing that vision in the frame is older than you will ever be and will still be hanging on that wall when you’re bones in a box somewhere.

Freddie lights a cigarette and puffs on it decadently. Smoking definitely isn’t allowed inside the Yankee Candle shop, but you aren’t about to snap at Freddie Mercury for the second time today. “Oh, let him tinker around in your flat, darling. It’ll make his day.”

“Is it far?” John asks you.

“No, really, Casa…uh, I mean, John, I appreciate the offer more than I could possibly express but I—”

“It’s just a few blocks north,” Kevin says, and tosses you a wily smile.

“How convenient!” Freddie trills. “When does your shift end, dear?”

“Not until 5:30.”

“She can take a long lunch break.” Another smile from Kevin. “Honestly, there’s not much to do around here now that the Great Candle Massacre of 1981 has been remediated.”

“Splendid!” Freddie says, radiant.

You shake your head, very slowly. “This is the weirdest day of my life.”

“Then you clearly haven’t lived enough,” Freddie quips.

“Fred!” Roger presses. “Are we going to the bookstore down the street or not? That was the whole deal, we suffer through your candles, you suffer through our books.”

“You didn’t seem to be suffering,” Brian says.

“Of course I’m suffering. That cashier over there almost murdered me,” Roger slings back.  

Freddie sighs and rolls his large, dark, expressive eyes. “Yes, darling, of course, don’t give yourself an aneurism. We’ll go to the bookstore, John can rendezvous with us later.” Now he turns to you. “We’ll send a car to your flat at 7 to pick you and Kevin up for the show tonight. Don’t let John leave without knowing your address. Wear something deliciously opulent. Lots of sparkle. Maybe furs.”

“I make eight dollars an hour,” you tell him.  

“Or you could just wear nothing.”

“Sparkle and furs it is.”

Freddie chuckles and turns to the men in black. “Chubby, my dear?”

The towering bearlike Irishman replies: “Yeah, I’ll go with John. Don’t wreck anything else while I’m gone. Don’t get yourselves deported before the show. EMI will have your heads on spikes.”

Freddie pretends to be scandalized. “Causing destruction? We would never.” He saunters towards the shop door, jingling the bells as he swings it open, and waves like royalty. “See you tonight, darlings!”

“Bye!” Kevin shouts after him. And then, after Freddie, Roger, Brian, and the two non-bearlike men in black have departed: “Oh my god I just met Freddie Mercury and he’s amazing and he knows I exist and he spoke to me and tonight he’s sending a car to take me to a concert and I’m going to have front row seats and what if he invites me to have a drink afterwards oh my god.”

John, evidently unaffected, prompts you: “So your place is just a few blocks away?”

“Yeah. Just let me get my coat…”

The man in black—Chubby, as Freddie had introduced him—fetches your coat off the rack by the door and holds it up so you can slip inside it. No one has ever done that for you before.

“…Thanks…?” You button your coat, feeling a little like royalty yourself at the moment.

John pulls open the door, the tiny metal bells jangling, and gestures out into the streets of downtown Montreal. He’s wearing his aviator sunglasses again; the November wind gusts through his hair. You catch threadbare ghosts of cigarette smoke and cologne that the breeze lifts from his skin like pages of a book. And he smiles, just barely. “After you.”

You walk north together along the path of the sidewalk with your hands in your pockets, your breath fog in the cold, weaving through the bustling crowds of tourists and holiday shoppers, Chubby trailing not far behind and displaying his talent for keeping watch while not letting on that he is. To even your own horror, you can’t seem to shut up.

“John, this is so kind of you, this is completely unnecessary, you really shouldn’t feel like you owe me anything because Freddie already paid for the candles twice over and I was totally unprofessional for yelling at customers, even annoying customers, and Kevin and I are already getting a free concert tonight and so—”

“Okay,” John says firmly. “You have to talk about something else now.”

“I can’t talk about anything else. All I can think about is how ridiculous this is.”

“Have you lived in Montreal long?” he asks, very casually, as if you’re strangers in line next to each other at Starbucks.

“My whole life.” Minus a little over three years, but you don’t need to get into that. “My parents live over in Verdun, right on the St. Lawrence River.

“Sounds scenic.”

“It certainly is.” You’re trying not to look at John, because every time you do it’s hard to stop. You look at the cars rolling by instead. “This is super embarrassing, and I don’t mean to offend you, but what exactly do you do in Queen?”

He’s not offended; he thinks it’s hilarious. “I’m the bassist.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, bassists are quiet and reliable or whatever. Bassists don’t terrorize Yankee Candle employees.”

“You’re not a Queen fan?”

“I’m a casual and appreciative listener, but I wouldn’t call myself a fan. I couldn’t pick any of you out of a lineup, clearly. Roger is the drummer, right?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Drummers are feral, almost universally. Which means Brian must be lead guitar.”

“And what do you think of lead guitarists?”

“Word on the street is that they are brilliant yet micromanaging egomaniacs, but I don’t want to bash your friend or anything.”

John chuckles, like there’s some joke you aren’t in on yet. “No, please, bash away. So you prefer bassists.”

And finally you do look at him, and you regret it immediately; because now you’re caught in the thoughtful crinkles around his eyes and the barely-there stubble of his cheeks and the playful curve of his lips and how the wind ruffles his auburn hair the same way it steals leaves off of slumbering trees. You almost walk right past the bakery. “Oh, wait, we’re here.”

You lead John and Chubby upstairs to your chronically irritating apartment. John removes his sunglasses, inspects your bathroom light switch, then asks if you have a specific kind of screwdriver. You bring him the toolkit that has lived beneath the kitchen sink since before you moved in and he roots around, finds what he’s searching for, and unfastens the light switch plate from the wall.

“Please don’t electrocute yourself,” you fret, as Chubby meanders around in the living room and tries not to intrude. “If you die your groupies will never forgive me.”

“Who says I’ve got groupies?” John replies, amused.

“I just assumed all rock stars do.” Your eyes flick down to his hands as he fidgets with the wiring; and you notice randomly—or, maybe, not all that randomly—that he’s not wearing a ring. You’re still ruminating over that when he returns the light switch plate to the wall, secures each of the four screws with a few deft twists of his wrist, and performs a test flip. The light turns on immediately.

“Mission accomplished,” John says mildly.

“What?! No, no way, no freaking way.” You flip the switch again. The light turns off and on obediently. You try it at least five more times. Perfection. “…How?!”

“Just a few loose wires. No great hardship.” He tucks the screwdriver back into the toolkit.  

You gape at him. “That took you…like…two minutes.”

“Aren’t you glad my band wandered into your candle shop and almost demolished the place today?” He rests his hands on his waist; his sturdy, skillful, ringless hands. “Anything else I can fix for you?”

“Definitely not.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He stares at you. You stare back.

“Stop looking at my fucked up eyeliner.”

John laughs. It’s a delightfully clear, disarming sound. “That’s not what I was doing.”  

“I should fix my makeup and go back to work now. And you should probably go help your friends burn down the bookstore or blow up a Starbucks or do whatever else is on your agenda for today.”

“Soundcheck and dinner, actually,” John says. He slides the toolkit back beneath your kitchen sink, meets Chubby by the front door, and pauses there to give you one last lingering, laden gaze. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“In my best furs,” you purr in your most convincing Freddie Mercury impression.

“Or nothing at all,” John suggests levelly. And then he’s gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

It turns out better than you thought it would. Your tan, knee-high suede boots are celebratory without being too uncomfortable. Kevin brings you a faux fur jacket that he stole from Patrick during the breakup. You find a glittery black dress in the back of your closet that you once loved, then couldn’t stand to look at, then forgot existed entirely; but tonight it’s like you’re seeing it with brand new eyes. It fits even better than you remember. In the mirror, you look like a stranger and a hauntingly familiar acquaintance and yourself all at once.

Chubby arrives in a black limousine at precisely 7pm, parks along the curb next to the bakery, and honks the horn twice. You and Kevin dash down the narrow steps and climb into the backseat, finding complimentary cigarettes and bottled water and chilled champagne. As the limo rolls though Montreal under changing traffic lights, Kevin prattles on about the band, their history, their albums, their tours…and John in particular. He tries to tempt you. You resist valiantly…for the first fifteen minutes, anyway.

Finally, you sigh in capitulation. “Okay. Fine. I get it. What do you know about him?”

“I know he’s divorced,” Kevin says, wiggling his eyebrows. “I saw it on the cover of a tabloid a while back. Very contentious, spicy stuff. He’s got like eight kids.”

“He does not have eight kids!”

“Okay, maybe not eight. But he has a lot,” Kevin insists.

You rearrange your hair with deliberate flippantness. “What do I care if he’s divorced?”

Kevin grins. “You know why you care.”

“Stop,” you plead.

“Look, all I’m saying is that he definitely likes you. And you like him. And I haven’t seen you like anybody, ever, in the…wait, let me count…the nine whole months that I’ve known you. When was the last time you even had a boyfriend? When was the last time you got laid? Oh my god, it hasn’t been nine months, has it?! That’s way too long to go without sex. No wonder you’re so serious all the time. It all makes sense now. You poor thing. You’re in dick withdrawal.”

“Assuming that’s my problem—which it isn’t, by the way—if I wanted to get laid there are far easier ways to accomplish that.”

“Sure,” Kevin says. “But you don’t want just any dick. You want British bassist dick. John Deacon dick. Casablanca dick.”

“This friendship is terminated.”

Kevin cackles, pouring himself a glass of champagne that bubbles over the top and spills onto the limo floor. “I’m really glad you’re here with me. I’m glad we can do this together.”

You fill a champagne flute with bottled water and clink your glass against his, smiling. The limo is turning into the parking lot of the Montreal Forum. “Me too.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The backstage room that Chubby escorts you and Kevin to after the show is full of chatter and heavy smoke and roadies and fans and musicians and journalists, trays of hors d'oeuvres, wine and Stella Artois and vodka and tequila and rum, the electric promise of things that will go unmentioned in the morning. There are stacks of stereo speakers in the corner rumbling out Another One Bites The Dust. You and Kevin camp out on a green velvet couch—making small talk with each other to avoid making it with anyone else—until the band arrives.

John is still wearing his concert outfit: blue pants, blue shirt, a black leather jacket that gives him an edge like a knife. He passes out a few polite nods; but Freddie and Roger are undeniably the suns in this room, and the guests their planets. Freddie is soon surrounded by a constellation of followers and whisks Kevin away with him. John, meanwhile, comes straight to where you’re sitting on the couch and stands in front of you with his messy hair and his veil of cologne and his mystery-candle-blue eyes.

“Can I get you anything?” he asks in that calm, measured way that you’ve learned he has. “Rum and Coke? Moscow Mule? Hurricane? I’ve been on a mojito kick recently.”

“I don’t drink.” And you wait for the inevitable awkwardness that usually follows that sentence, when he says why? or seriously? or maybe just oh in wilted disappointment.

Instead, what John says is this: “No problem. Rum minus the Coke?”

You smile up at him. You can’t help yourself. “That would be perfect.”

There are innumerable drinks already poured on a table, dark carbonated liquid trembling in red plastic cups as the bass from the stereo speakers quakes through the crowded, droning, smoke-hazed room. John moves from cup to cup, taking tentative sips before shaking his head and putting them back down on the table. After each attempt, he casts you a rueful smirk before continuing on to the next cup. At last, he finds two unadulterated Cokes and brings them to the couch: one for you, and one for him. He sits beside you with one of his legs crossed over the other, a lit cigarette in his right hand, a red plastic cup of Coke in his left, and his eyes on you in a way that isn’t hungry or arrogant or restless but merely, benignly contemplative. You find yourself thinking of paintings in museums again, you even start to feel a little like one; and you wonder what colors he sees in you, what types of brushstrokes, what signatures scribbled in the corners of the canvas, what shadows painstakingly penciled in to mimic the angles of the sun.

You tell John about growing up in Montreal, about autumn strolls along the St. Lawrence River, about snowfalls and Mont-Royal and Chinatown and the Notre-Dame Basilica, about the exhilarating turmoil of the Summer Olympics in 1976. You tell him about how Kevin is in his last year at Concordia University and works part-time at the Yankee Candle shop for money to invest in his hair gel and travel fund. You tell him so many things he doesn’t notice all the parts you leave out. In return, John tells you about himself; not about John Deacon the bassist of Queen, but about the understated man who likes cars and electronics and the Beatles and tea in the evenings beside a roaring fireplace. And when his arm comes to rest on the back of the green velvet couch, and then across your shoulders, and then around your waist, it doesn’t feel strange at all. You lean into him as you exchange stories and clandestine giggles until you’re nearly in his lap, and that doesn’t feel strange either. And you haven’t had a drop of alcohol—you haven’t in almost a full year, in fact—but you feel a little drunk tonight, because your cheeks are hot and the room is blurry and the world is brimming with a pure, rose-gold, uncomplicated happiness.

The other band members periodically stop by to say hello, clutching their drinks and making stilted pleasantries as you and John smile drowsily up at them, looking nothing like the soberest people in the room. Chubby and the rest of the men in black are simultaneously omnipresent and scarce, which you are beginning to think is a requirement inked into their job description. Kevin, having been fully absorbed into Freddie’s entourage, is beaming and flushed and extremely, blissfully tipsy. And they all watch you and John not with scandalized sideways glances but with warm approval swimming in their gleaming eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you yet,” you tell John when you are alone again. “For improving my dreadful apartment. So thank you. You really didn’t have to do that. I hate that I marred your time in Montreal with unpaid labor.”

He shrugs it off. “I like fixing things. It’s what I’m best at.”

“Besides being an internationally acclaimed rock star, you mean.”

“I’m honestly not so sure I’m cut out for the rock star life.”

“You are, though. I saw you. I watched you all night.”

John just stares at you, and then he leans in even closer, inhaling deeply. You can feel the heat of his breath on your collarbone, your shoulder, your neck; goosebumps spring up across your skin like stars at twilight. “What the hell is that? Perfume? Lotion? Shampoo?”

“It’s probably sugar and baking bread, because I live on top of a bakery.”

“Does Yankee Candle make anything that smells like you?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “They definitely do not.”

“They should,” John murmurs. And with the rough whirlpools of his fingertips he turns your face to his so he can kiss you.

It should be kind of humiliating, right? Making out with some guy you just met on a green couch in front of thirty strangers, your hands getting tangled in each other’s hair, your lips meeting again and again, taunting darts of the tongue and quick painless bites and stifled moans and grasping tugs at clothes that you’re starting to wish weren’t there at all. It should feel embarrassing, you should feel overexposed, here in this land of unfamiliar expectations and accents and faces. But no one seems to be watching too closely. This must be so tame in the world of rock stars, it occurs to you; almost wholesome. And you can’t remember a time you’ve ever felt more at peace.

“There’s a pool table in the next room,” someone says, startling you, and you break away from John to discover Roger perched on the arm of the couch, grinning coyly as he sips his emerald glass bottle of Stella Artois. “I mean…you know. If you’re into that. John’s got all sorts of moves, we played for days at a time at Ridge Farm. You could challenge him to a round or two. Place bets. But be warned…he’s a total pool shark.”

“Is he?” you ask mischievously, clasping the lapel of John’s leather jacket. Even if you freed him, he shows no indication of retreating. He’s raking his knuckles back and forth along the length of your thigh that your little black dress leaves exposed, never venturing above the hem.  

Roger winks. “Just thought you might want to know.” Then he hops off the couch and disappears into the crowd again.

John is trying to keep his eyes locked on yours, and no lower. He’s trying to not be even vanishingly forceful. He’s trying not to sway you. But you know exactly what he wants. “Do you…?”

“Show me how to play pool,” you whisper. And you lead him through the shuffling bodies and boisterous, increasingly intoxicated laughter and cumulus clouds of cigarette smoke to the door on the other side of the room.

Beyond the threshold you find a pool table and not much else. It’s terribly unceremonious; it’s absolutely perfect. You can hear Blondie’s Call Me playing back in the packed room where the rest of the band is still reveling, the bass crawling through the walls to radiate in your eardrums, your bones. You lock the door and reach out to flick off the harsh florescent lights, but John stops you. You don’t have to ask him why. He wants to be able to see you. He asks if this is okay—again, wordlessly, with the forthright blue of his eyes—and you nod. And then he kisses you as you drag him in, breathing in his cologne and nicotine, tasting the virgin Coke on his lips that he drank just for you.

John tears off his leather jacket. You toss the faux fur that Kevin lent you to the floor. You climb up onto the pool table, and John follows you. You yank off his shirt, link your suede boots around him as he positions himself between your naked, down-soft thighs. And then John stops.

“Look, I have to be honest,” he says. His hands tremble as they cradle the small of your back, just barely. “I’m newly divorced, and I’m really out of practice, I mean really out of practice, and this is not at all my usual way of doing things, and if I’m total rubbish or only last like thirty seconds or something I just want to apologize in advance and swear that I’ll do absolutely everything I can to make this worth it for you. Because I like you. I really, really like you.”

“I’m a little rusty too,” you confess with a small, sheepish smile. But he doesn’t need to know exactly how rusty you are, or in how many ways, all those layers of blood-hued ruin that spin webs from the skin down to the marrow.

John seems relieved. “Then maybe we’re even.”

You’re not even, you’re nowhere close; but it’s comforting that he thinks you could be.

John kisses you again. His hands find the zipper on the back of your dress, and then the tiny metal clasp of your bra, and then the black lace of your panties…and then everything else as well.

~~~~~~~~~~

Afterwards, you return together to the green velvet couch in the next room, not with bashful swiftness but with your hands entwined, your eyes satiated and calm, your clothes unapologetically rumpled. The partying is winding down. The song pouring through the stereo speakers is In The Air Tonight by Phil Collins. And now you and John don’t talk very much at all; you just sit there with fresh cups of Coke, your head resting against his chest, his left arm draped around you, watching the rest of the universe spin on like a carousel as your feet stay rooted to the earth.

“So you’re the smart one,” you say eventually. “You must be, with an electrical engineering degree.”

“You’d be surprised. We’re rather erudite, as far as rock stars go.” He smiles drowsily down at you. “Freddie’s got a degree in graphic art and design. Roger has one in biology. Brian has the better part of a PhD in astrophysics. He might even go back to finish it one day. He probably will, just to be able to lord it over us.”

“Wow,” you reply, distantly, suddenly feeling very small.

“What did you study?” he asks you.

In truth, you never finished college; but you aren’t going to tell John that. “Something useless.”

John is intrigued, and perhaps a little concerned as well. His brow furrows with grooves like lines of fortune in an open palm.

“I wanted to be a painter,” you explain, smirking at the absurdity. “But the world doesn’t need painters anymore. They have pictures and videos that are just as clear as real life. They don’t need my fantasies or interpretations. They have reality.”

“I think we still need painters,” John disagrees, his calloused fingertips tracing lazy circles around your bare shoulder.

“Really?”

“Yeah. For when reality requires improving.”

You let a few moments of silence tick by. And then you put on your faux fur jacket, finish the last of your Coke, stand and find your balance on the low heels of your boots with exhausted, shaky calves.

John jolts upright, somewhat alarmed. “Hey, you don’t have to—”

“This was great, John. This was the best night I’ve had in a long time. So thank you for that. But I have to go home now.”

“Okay.” He studies you, processing. “Okay, okay. I’ll have Chubby drive you.”

“That’s really not necessary, I can get a cab…”

But John has already waved Chubby over, and the massive man appears serendipitously with an impossible degree of stealth. Kevin finds you, staggering, babbling breathlessly about all of his adventures, showing you where Freddie and Roger and Brian signed his chest with a black Sharpie, repeating the same stories on an identical loop every few minutes. As you leave, you offer John a brief parting wave; and he returns it, like a reflection in a mirror, but he’s wearing a pensive frown and eyes dark with thought. Then again, maybe you are too.

Chubby leads you and Kevin outside to the waiting limousine. You slip into the backseat, ply Kevin with bottled water, open the sunroof so moonlight and cold, reviving November air can flood in like a river.

Kevin is coming down now from the high of the champagne and the concert and the carousing with Freddie Mercury. He blinks, soaking you in, really seeing you for the first time in hours. “Wow, you had a good night with Casablanca. You had a really good night.”

“Yeah,” you reply softly, resting your head against the window and watching the stars and streetlights pass by above like seasons. “And it will never happen again.”

[cherripeach]

Chapter 14

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Chapter 1:11-12 good credit, bad credit, you dead: ghost credit

Running to the store on campus, so cute.

Warnings: Curse words, implied violence

Words: 3.1k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

Ace groaned while face planting on the counter, “We finally finished peeling them all!”

Deuce moaned in pain, “My arms hurt…” He, then, stretched his arms and popped some of his knuckles while rolling his neck. 

You agreed with the two boys, “Yeah, I don’t wanna move for the next decade.” You made your seat on one of the stools next to the counter to take a break after standing for what felt like hours. 

Trey chuckled at your reactions, “Great work. I’m sure that your hard work will all be worth it.” While you three were sulking, Trey began cleaning up as much as possible by putting things away and putting things in the dishwasher. 

Grim grumbled, “I’m getting hungry just by the smell, yanno.” The cat had tried to take as much of the ingredients as possible while you were preparing, but barely managed to get any.

Trey took a sheet of paper out from a binder and sorted some of the ingredients next to some cooking utensils, “The marron base uses butter and sugar. And then, I also added some oyster sauce as a secret ingredient.”

Ace and Deuce jumped up from their positions of dread in shock, “Oyster sauce?!”

Trey placed the sheet down and grabbed a bottle of the sauce,  “Exactly. The savory flavor of the chestnuts gives the cream a rich flavor. And then, to make it better, I use this,” He motioned to the sauce in his hand,  “‘Walrus-brand young oyster sauce’.  There’s no famous pâtissière who doesn’t use this for their tarts, you know?” He ended it all with a closed eyed smile. 

Deuce mumbled, “Really…? It’s a pretty salty sauce, isn’t it?”

“You know how they put chocolate in curry, too?” Ace gave an example,  “It kinda makes sense…”

You were,  on the other hand, not having it, “Naw, dude. It doesn't; sweet can't just nullify salt or reverse. It’s practically impossible.” You shook your head while the two idiots were just pouting in their confusion. 

Trey chuckled while clutching his stomach, “You're right! I was just joking! There’s no way I’d put oyster sauce in a dessert, you know? How’d you know?”

The two idiots never would have guessed that. 

Ace’s hand’s shot up in his defense, pointing at his senior, “What the heck!? Are you making fun of us!?”

“It’s obviously impossible if you think about it a little.” Trey’s lighthearted giggle switched to a more wise old lecture, “The moral lesson here is that you shouldn’t believe anything you’re told. Learn to doubt a bit, okay?”

You nodded your head, “See, Ace. I don’t gotta learn that because I knew right away.” 

You were a genius. In all eyes besides Ace’s, that is. 

Ace snorted, “I bet it was a lucky guess.”

You fought back, “Pshhhh. No way.” You knew this was just the start of one of your many squabbles. 

Grim whispered to you behind his hand, “This guy looks nice, but he’s the type who can tell lies with no problem, huh…”  

“I guess so.” Your eyes widened at Grim’s statement. 

Trey rallied you all together to begin the next step, “Next is the fresh cream!”

A shrill scream ran through the air.

Ace bounced up and questioned Trey, “What’s wrong?”

You joined Ace with your question, “Are you okay?”

“I got carried away with the chestnuts you picked that I went overboard with making the marron base.” Trey laughed at himself and rubbed the back of his head, “We’re a little short on fresh cream.”

Deuce offered, “I’ll go buy some. Do they sell it in the school store?”

Trey explained,  “That shop sells pretty much anything, so I’m sure it should be there. Can I ask you to buy some other stuff while you’re at it? Two packs of milk, two cartons of eggs, silicon cups, and five canned fruits…” He writes down the list of items and hands them to Deuce. 

Deuce reads the list before commenting, “I don’t think I can carry all of that alone…” 

This was your chance, “I’ll come! I need to see if they have uniforms there, anyway.” Maybe you could find some uniforms or even some other clothes for a nice price as if you had any money. 

Grim interjected,  “I’m going, too! I don’t wanna mix more dough!” He raised his little paw as far as his body would allow it. 

“Understandable.”  You did not need to lose your arms over baking. 

The three of you began your walk to the grocery store on campus with only some light chatter about how excited you all were to taste the finished product and how Grim shouldn’t steal it all. 

The grocery store was the size of a drug store, but apparently from what Trey said it had everything anyone at this school needed. It’s gotta be a magic store.  

“We sure this is it?” You questioned Deuce because he was sure to know more than you, right?

Deuce pointed out, “I haven’t heard of any other shops here.” 

Grim quickly agreed, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s get a move on!”

While still warry, you approached the place behind the two overexcited shoppers, both who had stars in their eyes as someone from a novel would say. 

Deuce gazed around the place with wide eyes after opening the door where a little bell rang, “Pardon us! Whoa, what an amazing shop… Crystal skulls, magical texts, and… wh-what sort of animal is this…?” Deuce motioned to an animal’s skeleton that was just laying out on one of the shelves. Grim and Deuce took two steps closer to inspect the animal while you took two steps back. 

Grim, who began to travel by himself around the store, questioned Deuce and you, “Can we really find some fresh cream here?”

“I’d be surprised if we couldn't find it.” You opened a box that was filled with dusty books while nodding to Grim. 

Out of nowhere came a voice near the counter,  “Hey! Little lost lambs, what can I help you with? Welcome to Mr. S’s Mystery Shop.” The man had one of the oddest outfits with a bright pink shirt but then a black and dark purple jacket. His fashion sense was certainly new, but his vibe was what shocked you the most. Almost like he knew too much. What is it that you wish for today? A charm against cheating?” He pulled out a slip of paper from his chest pocket, “ An ancient king’s mirror?” a small mirror from his sleeve,  “Or maybe, some cursed tarot cards?” He even pulled a box out of thin air. 

Grim was frozen in shock for a moment and joined the conversation with a breath, “Ah, you startled me!”

You added on, “He reminds me of those characters from video games and movies that are just normal store owners or vendors that have some of the oddest items.” Looking at his shop, you believed yourself for a moment. 

The three of you made your way to the little counter at the back of the store. 

Deuce took out the list from his pocket and handed it to the man, “Um… We would like to buy the things written on this note.”

Grim used his arms to pull his face onto the counter as to be seen and begged,  “And I also want some canned tuna!”

“With what money?” You waved at him in disbelief,  “And I have a question for you, Mystery man.”

Deuce pushed Grim off of the counter,  “No! We will not buy any canned tuna!” which only caused Grim to growl at Deuce. 

The male scanned the note while tapping his finger in his chin,  “Mhmm. What do we have here? Fresh cream and eggs… Oh, my! What a pretty sweet line-up” He gave Deuce a thumbs up, “OK! I shall bring them out now. And I’ll get back to you in just a minute.” The male nodded at you with a small wink at the end of his sentence. 

Totally an odd vibe.

Deuce gasped in disbelief letting go of Grim’s fur,  “Whoa… Will he really have some here?”

You voiced your thoughts, “Maybe the back is just really big?”

The man returned with five bags full of items on your list, “Here, thank you for the wait. It is rather heavy, so are you sure you can carry them all?” The male, then gestured to a sign right next to the cash register about a special bag to carry all the items, “If you act now, I can throw in a special bag to carry all of those things for 30% off of its original price!” Deuce took out the money Trey gave him and handed it to the shopkeeper. 

Grim blurted out, “What did you say? Hey, that sounds interesting!” The cat grabbed your clothes as he normally does pointing at the sign to get your attention focused on it. 

Deuce shook his head while grabbing three of the five bags, “We. We will have to decline! Let’s go, Grim!”

“But why?! I wanna play more!” A pointing Grim was not resulting in a good day for anyone, but at this rate you couldn’t spend money on any food. 

“About that question,” You brought it up to the shopkeeper. 

The off-vibe man nodded,  “Ok, what's the problem, little lost lamb?”

You asked, “Do you sell uniforms or at least know where I can find one?”

“I should have some, but they're all used ones. I’ll even cut the price because of how damaged they are.” He then told you the price which was great for uniforms but as someone who owned no cash, not the best.

You thanked the male as you picked up the last two bags while the other two began to walk out, “Thanks! I’m gonna come back once I have the money, but please save them for me.” 

“Ok! of course, little lost lamb. I’ll have them in stock just for you.” He winked at you again, and at this point and time you’re just gonna assume it’s normal for him. 

“Thank you so much!!” You responded while finally walking out of the shop. 

Once outside, Deuce began a new conversation, “That was a very amazing shop, in a way…”

Grim was still pouting at the two of you for not giving him free food, “Boo, you two are so stingy.” His arms were snuggly crossed over one another and even his ears were flattened against his head. 

Deuce swung around to ask Grim, “Who are you calling stingy?!” This, however, almost resulted with Grim getting a concussion because of how the bag of canned fruits and heavy cream knocked Grim to the ground. 

Deuce quickly apologized, “Sorry!”

You placed your bag to check on Grim by feeling on his head for any bumps or any scrapes from the bag,  “Well, no one would give a brat what they want now would they? I know you want some tuna, but money is tight right now and I can’t get you any for a while. Once I save up enough, I promise I’ll get you some.” You brushed back his hair before flicking at his forehead, “Just remember to keep that ego in check. Soon, who knows, maybe I can even buy a hairbrush and maybe even a phone.”

 Deuce coughed before fixing the bags in his hold to reach his hand out to you, “The bag with the milks is heavy, isn’t it? I’ll hold it for you. I’m experienced with carrying heavy loads.”

You shook your head, “No way, lover boy, I can handle myself just so you know. And besides that's an odd area of expertise. Any reason why?” You kept walking to distract the male from taking your bag.

Deuce flushed red before starting his explanation, “Yeah, Mother always takes me with her during timed sales. She buys a lot, so I end up helping her with the bags. I’m the only man in the family, so I’m used to helping a lot with hard labor. Ah, I’m sorry… I keep talking about myself.” His face flushed even darker. 

You rolled your eyes, “That is incredibly sweet of you, Deuce. Don’t be scared to talk to me about anything. We’re friends. You must care for your mother a lot with how you talk about her.”

Deuce stuttered, “No… That’s not true at all. I… Mother was…” Deuce flies back onto the ground after connecting with someone’s chest, “Ouch!”

All of the materials that Deuce was holding fell to the ground, but the biggest problem was that the eggs were now completely broken and leaking everywhere on the sidewalk. 

Grim gasped and fell to his knees to try and save the groceries, “Ah, the eggs!!”

“Hey, you ok?” You reached out your hand to Deuce who grabbed it so that you could pull him up onto both of his feet. 

Deuce locked eyes on the bag of now broken eggs and cursed, “Damn it!” He picked up the bag of eggs and began to check to see if any of the eggs were not broken and could be used, “All the eggs in the carton broke! The plastic bag’s now reeking with eggs…!” Deuce tossed them in the trash while Grim squirmed to grab the bag from him. 

A white haired familiar looking male scoffed at the three of you, “That hurt! Where the hell’re ya lookin’ at,” His eyes darted to each member of your little group before continuing, “Wha? You’re the guys who ruined my carbonara’s soft-boiled egg during lunch today!” 

Another familiar red haired student was right on his side, “Damn, it’s you guys again. Ya better give us a break.” 

You grabbed as many bags as you could carry that Deuce had before, and you snorted, “And I thought I already crushed your egos, but I should have known you can't break a brick for a brain.”

The white haired boy snickered at the three of you, “Well it seems the little supervisor can’t even get us in trouble so no need for fear. You can’t harm us.” 

Deuce had been standing in place for the last couple of seconds with his eyes on his feet, “…Aren’t you the ones at fault for bumping into me?” His sharp gaze met that of the duo of delinquents, “Even during lunch. The egg wasn’t really that badly harmed, but you made a huge scene out of it. Our carton of eggs is totally ruined, though.” Deuce rolled up the sleeves to his jacket. 

Grim agreed standing as tall as he could across from the two upperclassmen, “He’s totally right!”

You walked over to where Deuce and Grim had made their little fighting stance, “Let’s just leave. They’re not gonna listen and we shouldn't get into a fight with idiots.” To further get Deuce’s attention, you pulled into the shoulder of his jacket to motion toward the bags, “We can always replace them. Let’s just get what we have back.”

The white haired boy swore, “The hell? You sayin’ it’s my fault, then? And idiots? I’m much smarter than any of you. Respect your elders!”

Deuce paid no mind to you or your constant poking on his shoulder, “Yes, please pay us back for the eggs. And also, please apologize to the chickens.”

“Hah?” The red haired boy quipped at Deuce, “Makin’ a ruckus over eggs, are we?”

Deuce grunts, “Hah?” before turning to you, “Remember the promise right?”

You nodded at him. 

“Then, back up.” He lightly pushed you to make you back up, “And don’t get involved.”  You locked eyes with the male only to see his eyebrows furrowed and a large scowl on your face. And as much as you wanted to help him and get him out of this situation, there’s nothing you can do against magic users. At least not yet.

The two other students did not realize how ready Deuce was to make this physical or how personal this was. 

The whit haired boy groaned, “It didn’t hit the ground so you can still eat it. Stop makin’ a fuss over little things.” The boy slapped his friend before whispering something to him. 

The other boy snickered before adding, “Ya better be thankful they broke inside the plastic bag!” 

“Not only are they dumb, but blind too,” You mumbled to yourself which Grim could hear from his small chortle. 

Deuce still had not lost his eye contact with the other two boys, seemingly eyeing them down to wait for the perfect moment. 

Both of the boys let out the largest giggles possible that a teenage boy could without sounding like girls gossiping with their heads thrown back and their hands clutching their stomachs. 

“Laughing at something that is surely your fault.” You rolled your eyes while trying to get the boy’s attention on Deuce who was in your eyes about to murder a bitch, “I think you should just pay us back for it. Maybe some extra too for having to deal with your terrible attitude to even it out.” 

Neither student responded to you only grunting out stiffles of laughter for the next couple of seconds. 

Deuce muttered to himself breaking eye contact with the two to gaze down at his hand which was clenched like in one of those TV shows when a character is going to do something he regrets, “... Mess with me, will you…”

White haired kid raises his eyebrows in confusion as Deuce looks to be slowly going insane,  “Huh?”

Deuce exploded at the two, “I told you to stop laughing, damn it!!” His feet began to move closer and closer to the two who just stood in horror for the boy who was once silent, “You ain’t got no choice but to apologize for something that’s your fault! These eggs will be used to make a delicious tart in place of turning into chicks, bastard!! Do you understand me, huh!?”

“Wh-what’s with him all of a sudden…?!” The red haired boy was backing away from the approaching student and had a look of disbelief on his face. 

Deuce grabbed his fist in one hand and cracked the knuckles of the other one, “If you’re not gonna pay me back for the 6 eggs, I got no choice but to beat the hell out of you six times.”

The white haired male faltered, “Huh!?” before seeing the blue haired male coming straight for him with his fists in a fighting position. 

 “Grit your teeth, you little bastards!!” And with that Deuce began his little fight by pulling at the kid’s clothes and punching them a little too hard.

“Where does that phrase even come from?” But what could you do besides stand there and wait even if you didn’t want the two to get hurt going into the fight now would be harmful.

You really need to stop getting involved in fights. 

[buckbarnesjames]

Chapter One (Updated)

Summary: “If I cannot get it right now, I don’t want it at all”.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: discussions of sugar daddy/sugar baby relationships. swearing. discussions of sex. 

Word Count: 2216

A/N: Hey guys, I’ll be back to writing this soon as inspiration has hit again, I’m just updating the previous chapters! I had to repost this one as I couldn’t find the original post to edit it. Please enjoy and as always, feedback is welcomed. The taglist is OPEN so feel free to ask to be tagged! 

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Bucky spent the rest of Friday afternoon mulling over how to broach the subject with you. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable in the work environment, but he had secretly always dreamed of having a more personal relationship with you and it wasn’t as if he was new to the sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamic - in fact, he rather enjoyed it. Eventually, he decides to let it go for now and think more about it over the weekend. Meanwhile, whilst Bucky is preparing to spend the weekend overthinking his predicament, you’re preparing to spend time with Nat and Wanda.

Saturday evening you meet them for drinks at a popular nightclub. “Hey, sugar baby” Nat teases you. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at her. “Enough of that, Natalia. I told you to drop it” you sass back at her. After a few more minutes of teasing from Nat and Wanda, they finally drop the subject. The waiter approaches your table and you order a round for you and the girls - a Cosmopolitan for Wanda, a white Russian for Nat and a Daiquiri in your favourite flavour for yourself. After a few rounds, you’re feeling brave enough to hit the dance floor.

You and the girls dance close together, the feeling of the bass pumping through your ears. You feel a pair of eyes watching you but brush it off and continue to dance. Halfway through the next song, you feel Nat’s hands on your waist as she leans in close enough that you’re able to hear you, “Hey...isn’t that Mr Barnes?” she says, tilting her head in the direction of the bar. Sure enough, there he is and he’s watching you rather intently. “Let’s give our boss a show, shall we?” she says before spinning you around. You throw your head back laughing, the alcohol probably clouding your judgement, and try to scold her in between giggles. You and the girls dance for a while, with Nat periodically confirming that Mr Barnes - and his friend - are indeed watching you.

Eventually the dancing wears you out, and you all head back to your booth. The waiter approaches again with a fresh round when he notices you all taking your seats. As he places the final drink down, he points towards the bar where Bucky and his friend previously stood, “The gentleman over there would like a moment of your time” he says, smiling knowingly. You look over to see that he’s still there along with his friend, who you now recognise is his business partner, Steve Rogers, nursing glasses of whiskey. As if he can sense your eyes on him, he looks up at you and smiles.

“I’ll be back in a moment” you say to Nat and Wanda. They look between you and Bucky in surprise before Nat drunkenly declares, “Uh oh, you’re in trouble” and giggles. Wanda tries to shush her whilst motioning for you to go as you stand there nervously tugging your dress down, which you now feel is way too short, and taking a long sip of your drink.

You approach Bucky and Steve, “Mr Barnes, are you trying to proposition me?” You joke, the fresh drink in your system giving you a little confidence. If only you had an idea of the thought that had swirled around his mind all day. He had originally called you over to discuss the conversation he had overheard, the alcohol in his system impairing his judgement, but now that you’re standing in front of him he can’t get the words out so instead chuckles at your joke. “Of course not, Miss Y/L/N. I just wanted to offer you a drink, you've worked hard this week” he smiles at you and awaits your answer as you try to ignore your brain suggesting that he’s also referring to the little dance show earlier.

“I appreciate that, Mr Barnes, but we were just about to leave.” Bucky looks a little disappointed at your reply. “Maybe another time though?” you smile at him brightly before realising what you had said. You could feel embarrassment coursing through your body. You had no idea why you’d suggested grabbing a drink with your boss. You excuse yourself quickly after that and head home with the girls, missing the way Bucky smoothes his tongue over his lips. You looked good in that dress.

“Is that the girl you were talking about? Your assistant?” Steve interrupts the tirade of dirty thoughts racing through his mind, and he’s grateful. He shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. The whole sugar baby/sugar daddy thing was a ridiculous idea, a momentary lapse in his judgement. He nods at Steve in reply and downs his whiskey, ordering another one as he places his glass down on the bar. “You have it bad, dude” Steve laughs and Bucky scowls at him. “I can see why, but I prefer redheads” Steve continues joking, looking to the exit as you, Wanda and Nat leave. “Nat would eat you alive, pretty boy. She’s ruthless and that’s why she’s head of the finance department” Bucky bites back. Steve laughs and proudly declares that he could handle her, to which Bucky continuously denies for the rest of the night as Steve tries to convince him to give him Nat’s number.

You arrive on time to work on Monday, your car having spent the weekend in the garage, and the next few days pass by in a blur of meetings, business proposals and coffee making. You don’t see much of Bucky through the week but put it down to the time of year and not the encounter you’d had with him Saturday night. You knew he was probably planning the end of month gala to celebrate acquiring an important business deal. Before you know it, Thursday arrives.

Bucky is working late again. As usual, you’d order him some food and placed it on his desk. You’re packing your bag to head home when Bucky enters the office, closing the door behind him. “Miss Y/L/N, could I talk to you for a moment?” he says, his tone serious and you begin to worry that you’ve done something wrong. “Of course, Mr Barnes. Is everything okay? I haven’t messed something up have I?” you ramble on. You couldn’t afford to lose this job, the pay was great and allowed you to live comfortably in a decent Manhattan apartment. “Y/N,” Bucky interrupts your inner monologue, “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to talk to you about a conversation I overheard the other week.” Your stomach drops. Oh, shit. He’d heard you, Nat and Wanda.

You look to the floor, embarrassed. “Mr Barnes, I can explain…” Bucky interrupts you again, this time by placing his finger under your chin and lifting your head so your graze meets his. You gasp at the contact. Bucky had never been this informal with you before. “You’re not in trouble, Y/N. In fact, I found the conversation rather interesting.” Bucky says, removing his hand from underneath your chin once he’s sure you won’t break eye contact. “Look, I’ve been thinking about this for the past week and I don’t want to overstep any boundaries but well, If I don’t ask then I’ll never know.”

“Thinking about what, Mr Barnes?” You look at him in confusion, your head tilted slightly to the left. Bucky finds the action endearing. You look so innocent. He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “Look, you know as well as anybody around here that If I can’t get what I want right now, then I don’t want it and well right now… I want you. I want you in the capacity that you and your friends were talking about on Friday.” Bucky hears as you sharply inhale. “You mean, you want me as...as your sugar baby?” you ask, your voice an octave higher than usual. Bucky chuckles softly at your nervousness. “Yes, Y/N. You’re free to say no, I’ll never broach the subject again and we can continue to work together in a professional capacity but...I’d really like it if you were to say yes”.

“Why me?” you ask. You don’t know why but it’s the only thing you can say. For some reason, your feet aren’t carrying you out of the office and home as fast as possible, like you’d wished when this conversation had begun. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you’d secretly fantasized about your attractive boss since the moment you began working at Barnes Industries. “I have more money than I have sense, Y/N, and if I’ve gotta spend it on someone other than myself then I choose the beautiful girl who has sat at the desk across from me for the past two years”. Bucky watches you, surveying your reaction. He was pushing the boundaries so far right now but god, he hadn’t been able to get this idea out of his head all week. “Beautiful?” You ask, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had said in the last five minutes. “Beautiful” he says firmly.

“How would this even work, Mr Barnes?” you ask, the wheels in your head are spinning a thousand miles and hour and you can’t stop yourself from entertaining the idea. BUcky smiles and you see him visibly relax. He pulls a recognisable Tiffany & Co box out of the pocket of his suit pants. “Well...if you were to agree, I’d love for you to accept this gift and wear it every day around the office.” He opens the box to reveal a drop pendant with five, shining stones. You gasp at the simplistic beauty of it. “And what then...if I accept?” you whisper. You had no idea why you were whispering, you knew that you and Bucky were alone in the office. “If you were to accept, I would take you on an initial spending spree and buy you whatever clothes, shoes and products you desired. I would then give you a weekly allowance of an agreed upon amount” Bucky says, his tone similar to the one he uses in business meetings. “And what would you require from me?” you ask. He knows what you’re implying. “You wouldn’t have to do anything you were uncomfortable with. I’d require your company at any events I have to attend and I would love to spend time with you outside of the work environment, taking you to dinner and things but that would only happen if you wanted it to” he answers, watching as a mixture of emotions flash across your face - surprise, confusion and relief. It stings a little when he recognises the look of relief on your face, he’d always been attracted to you and hoped the feeling was mutual.

“This is all so sudden, James” given the situation, you address him informally. His heart flutters at the way you say his name. “I know, and you don’t have to agree but if you decide this is something you want...then text this number before eight tomorrow morning and I’ll send a car for you” he says and he hands you a card with a cellphone number that you don’t recognise.”It’s my drivers number” he answers the question he can see formulating in your mind. You smile, knowing he’d given you that number because his personal phone tended not to be charged unless you’d done it. “I’ll let you go home now and think about things,” he says, taking a step back from you and giving you some breathing room. You silently pick your bag up and make your way to the door of the office, with shaky legs. You turn back to look at him offering him a small smile and a “Goodnight, Mr Barnes”.

You toss and turn all night, mulling the idea over. It wasn’t like you needed the money, Barnes Industries paid you well - probably above the national salary of an executive assistant - but the idea of spending time with Bucky in a more personal way was gnawing at your mind. It was no secret between you and your friends that you had always harbored a little crush on him, and now he was practically on his hands and knees in front of you offering himself - and his money - to you. You get out of bed at seven AM, deciding there was no point in lying around any longer. You get dressed for the day quickly and attempt to eat some breakfast but the nervousness in your stomach doesn’t allow you to eat much so you just drink a coffee and eat a few spoonfuls of oatmeal. You pick up your phone and the piece of paper Bucky had given you last night and take a deep breath before typing out the words that would change your life forever.

I thought about it, Mr Barnes. You type out, clicking send immediately after - giving yourself no chance to change your mind for the millionth time. And what did you decide, Miss Y/L/N? The reply is instant, as if he had been waiting around all morning for you to come to a decision. You quickly type and send your reply.

Yes.

[bleachluna]

Letters

Ended up skipping day 2 of @hitsukarinweek as I had no ideas for it but here’s my fic for day 3! Also on AO3

Dear Toshiro,

Can you please explain to me how the hell Soul Society managed to copy mobile phones from humans, and even put hollow tracking technology in them, but didn't make them able to send stuff across realms? I know you explained that SS phones in soul society can only contact those in soul society, and when they're here in the human world they can only contact those here, but I only realised how ridiculously stupid that is until after you left. What if there's an emergency and you need to contact someone across realms for whatever reason? Surely you need to get this fixed, I cannot believe if I want to talk to you I'm stuck writing letters like it's the 1800s. I'm even writing more formally than I expected, apparently letter writing brings it out of me and I absolutely hate it. You've gotta fix it. Not to mention I'm not a fan of leaving letters for Urahara to pass on for me, I'm not totally convinced he won't read them.

Anyway, it's been a couple of months since I saw you last. That's probably a good thing, that a captain hasn't been needed here, but I'll admit I wonder about you sometimes, I hope everything is ok on your end! I don't know what it was about turning sixteen but all of a sudden all of this stuff about trying to figure out careers is on me constantly. Yuzu figured out years ago that she wanted to go into healthcare, she took to it way back when we were kids. She was originally planning to go into nursing but her grades have improved a lot recently, she might be a doctor instead, but she's also thinking about midwifery. So there's stuff she's gotta figure out for sure, but at least she knows what area she wants to go into? I don't even have that. I mean how do you figure out what to do with the rest of your life when you're sixteen? I haven't even figured myself out yet. How did you decide to become a shinigami?

Other than that though things are ok. School is a little stressful because grades suddenly feel so much more important, but the work's manageable at least. Hollow level seems to be stable at the minute too which is great, one less thing to worry about! And Urahara improved his reiatsu blocking bracelet thing, I've had this one for almost four months and it hasn't broken so even less chance of getting eaten! Always a plus. But anyway, I hope things are good on your end as well, and that you aren't buried up to your ears in paperwork. Let me know if you ever have any plans to pop up in the human world!

Best Wishes,

Karin

P.S. - I sent this on the 22nd of June, let me know when this gets to you/when you send yours, I wanna know what sort of delivery time we're looking at here.

- - - - -

Dear Karin,

I don't even remotely have the skills or know-how to fix something like that, that's what the Research & Development Team is for. I agree it's a little daft that our mobile phones can't send things across realms, but I'm sure said team knows this and is likely working on it, as you said, it would be unfortunate in an emergency situation. Plus I know Urahara can be a little eccentric, but do you really think he'd read the letters? I'm sure it's fine.

It is a good thing I've not been needed, the last thing Karakura needs is more trouble and destruction. Have they managed to rebuild that major bridge you were talking about yet? Everything is alright here, or at least in my division anyway. I've been kept busy recently, a set of students graduated from the academy last month so I've had 18 new recruits to introduce to squad 10. As for the careers stuff, I honestly assumed from the work you did here and there for the clinic that you were interested in healthcare as well, I take it that's not actually the case then? Do you at least have rough ideas of the sort of thing you'd want to go into? I'm not sure I'll be much help in that respect, I can't wrap my head around half of the jobs that seem to exist in the human world. In some ways I had it easier, the choice was out of my hands. My reiatsu was getting stronger and Hyorinmaru came to me before I even knew what was happening, I needed to go to the academy to make sure my reiatsu didn't become dangerous, therefore I became a shinigami. I never had to wonder what to do with myself in terms of employment.

I'm glad to hear things are going well with you, I'm certainly glad to hear you don't have to worry as much about the bracelet breaking. Is your reiatsu still increasing? If it's stabilising that might be part of why this new bracelet is managing better. I know you're not particularly interested in getting involved with shinigami stuff, which frankly I agree with, but if your reiatsu is still increasing I do think it's worth training you to hide it properly. I am unfortunately always at least a little buried in paperwork, particularly recently with the new recruits, but it's manageable. I don't think I'll be in the human world soon, but I will let you know if I plan to.

Best Wishes,

Toshiro

P.S. - I got your letter on the 2nd of July, I should be handing this letter over to be sent on the 4th, schedule permitting.

- - - - -

Dear Toshiro,

Well I hope you make sure that the research team are working on it, because this really is ridiculous. And you're kidding right? I trust Urahara about as far as I can throw him, which is probably all of three feet.

The bridge is still being rebuilt, but I think they're in the last stages now thank god. All the diversions needed really messed with the traffic, maybe I can finally stop leaving the house half an hour earlier just to get to my soccer club. It's supposed to be twenty minutes max by bus and it's been taking easily twice that. Let me know if you find out which shinigami it was that released their zanpakuto on that bridge, I have some choice words for them.

An entire class of students graduated and you only got 18 newbies at the tenth? Was it a small class or is that the normal kind of numbers you see? I assumed there's like, thousands and thousands of shinigami, is there less than I thought? Is that why I only ever see you and Rukia besides the dude who's currently stationed here? And I don't know about going into healthcare, that's my whole problem! I don't know what I want. Healthcare is fine but I don't feel like it's my life purpose to go into it either so yeah, I don't know. Healthcare would be alright, sports would be cool maybe? But I don't think there's a whole lot of sports careers outside of professional (which is definitely not happening) or teaching, and I'm not convinced I'm the teacher type. I just don't seem to have this strong urge to go in a particular direction like Yuzu does. But wow, I didn't know that, you basically HAD to train to be a shinigami? I didn't know that was a thing that could happen, that your reiatsu can go that far on its own. That kind of sucks though doesn't it? That you had no choice? I hope you enjoy being a shinigami at least.

To be honest I think my reiatsu probably is still going up. I don't think it's as quick as it was before, it's settled a little bit, probably because there hasn't been much danger around recently, but I do think it's still inching up. Is that a huge issue? Obviously it became a huge issue with you so now I'm kinda nervous. I'm not gonna get kidnapped into the shinigami am I? I can train to hide my reiatsu without actually becoming a shinigami right? Frankly I trust you more on this than Urahara. And you better let me know in advance if you can, Yuzu says she wants to make you those dumplings you liked again.

Best Wishes,

Karin

P.S. - I got excited at first thinking that sending these took less than two weeks, that didn't seem that bad considering we're sending them via Urahara whenever someone comes through realms, but then your letter took almost a month to come, it arrived on the 27th :( I'm handing this letter over on the 28th.

- - - - -

Dear Karin,

The Research & Development Team is not under my command, they belong to the twelfth, I cannot make sure that they're working on it, but I shall ask at the next opportunity I get. I think you're selling yourself short, I'm sure you could get at least five feet, but I do see your point, I can't say I fully trust him either, not on an individual basis anyway. I trust him to want the best for everybody, and to work towards that, but I don't think he pays attention to what that means for the individuals in the situation. More of a 'the end justifies the means' sort of person from what I've heard. And I'm afraid I have no idea who it was who damaged the bridge, but given they were fighting a powerful hollow at the time I imagine it was the correct course of action. Better on the bridge than in the middle of town.

I get the impression there is less shinigami than you think. Most squads have just over two hundred or so members, so 18 new recruits is actually a pretty good year. As for why you only really see me or Vice-Captain Kuchiki, it's a combination of needing a strong enough shinigami to deal with the sort of problems that crop up in Karakura, while also needing said shinigami to have a vague clue on how to navigate the human world. Vice-Captain Kuchiki presumably has rather extensive knowledge having lived in the human world for months, and I've been known to visit for years so they know I'm alright with being there as well. I think it's alright to not have an idea of a 'life's purpose' when you're in your second year of high school. Maybe just pick something for now as a sort of in-between while you continue working out what it is you want? Sometimes a job is just a job after all. You could always try a career in sports and see how it goes if it interests you now, and switch later on? I'm sure you'll figure something out. I'll admit I was definitely reluctant to train as a shinigami at first, it was never something I wanted originally, so it was hard to deal with to begin with I suppose, but I don't mind it these days. It's stressful, but at least I'm doing something where I'm trying to keep people safe, that suits me well enough.

Unfortunately yes, in my case my reiatsu continuously going up was an issue, but I don't think it's as serious with you. Firstly, you've not got a zanpakuto knocking on your subconscious as far as I know (the telltale giveaway is weird dreams where someone/something is trying to talk to you and tell you it's name, in case you were worried about that), and the people around you aren't vulnerable. You're unlikely to cause issues with your reiatsu because everyone around you has some degree of spiritual power already. As for the other questions, I certainly hope you won't be kidnapped into the shinigami, and I don't think your brother or even Urahara would let that happen, but it's possible you'll get Soul Society's attention if it keeps going unchecked. Of course with Urahara keeping on eye on it and keeping the reiatsu blocking bracelet on you, I'd argue that it's largely taken care of and shouldn't get other shinigami on you. There isn't much shinigami training you can do without becoming a shinigami, but you can learn to withdraw and hide your reiatsu even as a human so don't worry about that. I would say to ask your brother but he's never been very good at controlling his, Urahara is your other option, or possibly Vice-Captain Kuchiki if she's around. Or if those don't work out and your reiatsu gets to a point where you're truly worried about it let me know, I'll train you in it myself if it comes to it. Also, I appreciate the thought but your sister doesn't need to go to trouble like that for me.

Best Wishes,

Toshiro

P.S. - I got your letter on the 17th of August. I think it's safe to say they take anywhere from over a week to just under a month to arrive each time.

- - - - -

Dear Toshiro,

Let me know what the research team says! If they say they're not working on it please heavily suggest that they do, and if they say they are working on it, please ask how long they think it'll take them. Just think how much easier communicating would be if we could just call each other. The end justifies the means is EXACTLY Urahara's vibe, which is exactly why I don't really trust him. So yeah, it wouldn't even remotely surprise me if he's been reading these the entire time, better to assume the worst and be pleasantly surprised than the other way around. I suppose you have a point about the bridge being a better location than in the middle of a bunch of people, I'll put up with inconvenient travel times over unnecessary death.

Only a little over two hundred per squad? There is less than I thought! That's way less than your average university over here, that's crazy! 18 newbies is good in that case, your squad must be pretty popular. And no wonder I only really ever see you or Rukia, you guys clearly need to work on getting more people up to the speed with the human world or you're gonna end up over-worked! I guess I could just go for sports now and switch later? I don't know, you kinda get it into your head that you've gotta figure out what you want and stick to it, but I guess there's nothing actually stopping me from changing paths later. Once school goes back in I'm gonna get a meeting and talk to the careers lady, see what she says. I'm glad you're alright with being a shinigami now, hopefully it isn't stressful too much of the time.

Well, I'll take your word for it, you know more than me on this but I'm still kinda wary. You're right that there's no zanpakto trying to get my attention so far at least so that's something. If I do get kidnapped by the shinigami I'm trusting you to break me back out, but yeah that is kind of the whole point of the bracelet, that it blocks off my reiatsu from others so hollows can't find me so easily (and shinigami apparently, yeesh) so hopefully this won't actually be an issue. I don't really want to ask Urahara to train me but I will if I have to I guess. Asking Rukia's a good idea though! I'll ask whenever she next pops up, she seems like she'd be good at that sort of thing, maybe that'll solve this whole situation. Or you know, you, if you happen to come sooner, whoever comes to the human world next I guess! I'd feel better knowing that I myself could do the thing the bracelet's doing. Although I do have a question, how do you do it in your sleep? Or is it not possible and you're just vulnerable a third of the time? That seems unfortunate. Also you're kidding right? Cooking is the primary way my sister shows her care and affection, if she wants to cook for you there's no stopping her so you can at least give us notice so we can get ingredients and stuff.

Best Wishes,

Karin

- - - - -

Dear Karin,

I will let you know what the research team says as soon as it actually comes up. I can see your point, I suppose it is better to plan for the worst and be pleasantly surprised otherwise. Good to see you have your priorities in order, is the bridge finally finished though?

I remember being surprised by the size of your high school, I assume universities are even bigger? Must be an administrative nightmare to keep track of all those students, I feel like I can have a hard enough time with the 226 members I have. Squad 10 was surprisingly popular this year, the only other squads who had numbers like that were the sixth and the eleventh, both of which always have high numbers. We did have 'human world' classes at the academy at one point, but they ended up being scrapped a decade or so ago, any information learned was rendered almost completely obsolete within a few years, meaning the stuff the students learned was more or less useless by the time they were actually getting stationed in the human world. These days we just give a brief information pack about the human world before they leave, currently being updated semi-regularly by Vice-Captain Kuchiki. Meeting with a staff member whose job it is to deal with career pathways certainly sounds like a good idea, I hope it goes well if it hasn't already taken place.

Once again, I certainly hope Soul Society would try such a thing, it would be incredibly stupid considering I don't think your brother, who damn near took on the whole of Soul Society and pretty much came out on top, would ever let you get kidnapped in the first place. And I'm fairly sure me, a captain, breaking out someone Soul Society captured is probably considered treason of some kind, but I can promise I'll be in your corner one way or another. Not to mention, I don't think most shinigami would be prepared for you anyway, most are too used to sword combat, I don't think the average shinigami would handle your hand to hand very well. I'm sure you've got nothing to worry about. As for hiding your reiatsu in your sleep, generally speaking you just practice it enough that it becomes second nature, most shinigami do it subconsciously after a while, including in sleep, although nightmares and the like can interfere a little bit. Your sister has met me what, three times? She feels strongly enough to cook for me? It really is unnecessary although I'm sure the thought is kind. I did say I'd give you notice if I came to the human world though, our sensors are showing an increase in hollow activity in Karakura recently. We're currently just monitoring, we're holding off for now as it might be temporary, but if it gets worse I'm coming to monitor the situation properly and to make sure no incidents happen with the hollow increase. Judging from the current rate, if it keeps going as is I'll probably be there in two weeks or so. With any luck this letter will arrive before I do but if not, I'll make sure to meet up with you somewhere.

Best Wishes,

Toshiro

- - - - -

Dear Toshiro,

Your letter got here super quick, less than a week after I sent mine! Looks like there's increased shinigami activity to match the hollow activity, which boy, you're not kidding that its increased. My reiatsu's jumped up again and I couldn't tell you if it was a response to all the hollows around, or that the hollows arrived because of me. I really hope it's the former. Hopefully you'll be here soon! I think I could do with the training sooner rather than later and if I'm being honest I'd feel safer. But anyway, in response to your letter:

The bridge is actually finished! Just in time for the increased hollows to fuck it up again I'm sure! Most universities are like 10,000 to 30,000 easy, and I think some are bigger than that? So yeah, only two hundred or so shinigami per squad is insane to me. I'm pretty sure the universities have whole administrative teams just for the purpose, does your squad have an admin person at all or is it just you? When I first found out about the shinigami I didn't think I'd sit here wondering about the bureaucracy of it all but here I am. Oh wow I would've loved to sit in one of those human world classes, would've been hilarious I bet. At least you give newly stationed people something, I imagine the culture shock must be a bit much, I'm sure Rukia's information is very accurate given how much time she's spent here. And the careers meeting is actually in two days, I kinda nervous about it to be honest, but hopefully it'll be helpful.

Well I suppose when you put it that way Soul Society kidnapping me would very much be poking the bear huh? I'm extremely saddened to hear that you wouldn't commit treason for me though, what kind of friendship is this??? But I suppose I'll take comfort in you being 'in my corner one way or another', whatever that means. Does it mean in the event of soul society kidnapping me and forcing me to be a shinigami you'd immediately put me in your squad? That's the vibe I'm getting. But that's good to know about the hand to hand combat and the reiatsu withdrawing while still asleep, I'll bear those both in mind. As for your potential visit, given hollows seem to be popping up left right and centre I'm assuming you're probably coming in a week or so, I'll look out for your arrival! I get the impression this letter isn't going to get to you before you arrive in the human world but just in case it does I'll let you know, Yuzu added the dumpling ingredients onto her shopping list. That means you've gotta be at our house for at least one dinner! Consider it repayment for the training I'm gonna demand from you.

Hope you get here safe,

Karin

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Whoopsie King Rhoam’s a dick but I gotta flesh him out so

Read Part 1 here!

Part 2

If you’re on mobile, and tumblr hates this post, follow along on this google doc!

Rules/overview this rewrite in the beginning of Part 1

‘sup ya beautiful bastards it’s time to gush about the process of storytelling and writing as we fix up the fix it fic so let’s just jump into it

- - - - - - - - - - 

A quick recap of Part 2, and I swear this recap is faster than the recap last time: Chapter 3 of Age of Calamity opens with a more substantial scene the beginning points of Revali’s character, and contrasting the old position that Link and eggbot have, so that their later changes in this chapter (well, at least for Link in this chapter) are more pronounced. We edited a bit of the dialogue to make Revali’s intentions make a bit more sense, while also putting some little foreshadowing points with some camera tricks for the Hollow Champions. The Hollow Champions can now speak, which means their potential for being used to bring out the flaws or bitter aspects of each character is more readily available further into the story. And of course, we’ve introduced the main antagonist of Astor, and coupling his presence and dynamic with Zelda’s insecurities. While his intentions of needing Zelda for something is clear, his motivations and backstory remain a mystery as of yet, the only true clue we have so far being some sort of connection to eggbot. 

I didn’t get any big asks or comments about Part 2 so I’m going to assume that it was mostly well received (although I will note that I promise I’m going to flesh out Revali to be more than he has been presented as of yet, this is just the very very start of this development don’t you worry your feather loving butts) that being said, you should totally critique me or give me your opinions or comments. I’d love to hear them! Although, keep in mind that I am restraining my rewrite to the guidelines already said, so don’t get mad at me for not killing off all the Champions or something. Thaaat’s a rewrite for another time. So yeah if you reblog you get a little kiss from me because believe it or not I spent a lot of time trying to rewrite an entire storyline while keeping it’s tone and integrity intact. So thanks much <3

Okie dokie then chaps! Let us finally delve into Urbosa lesbian vibes, a zest of Zelink angst, rants about pacing, and a couple tablespoons of Astor backstory, all starting in the latest stage of Chapter 3: The Road Home, Besieged 

So right of the bat, big problem here. This Chapter follows directly after the events of Korok Forest, so you assume that maybe “The Road Home” refers to the team, going home, back to the castle, to tell King Rhoam what’s up. But...that’s apparently not the case. 

So this entire stage, firstly, it brushes over any scenes where Zelda, Link or the other Champions might talk to King Rhoam about the Master Sword, or the Deku Tree, or...hmm what else happened last stage that might be interesting to see—oh yEAH HOW ABOUT that mysterious magic guy that tried to kill Zelda and was going off about the future and stuff?? That guy that wielded a bunch of dark magic and malice looking stuff and, uh yeah, you’d think it might be important and interesting to see the King’s take on was is essentially a wanted traitor to the crown who may or may not be leading the entire movement for the Calamity’s uprising. But nope, no one asks questions, no one says anything or has interesting conversations that reveal stuff about the plot. It's just….just all about Zelda and ooooOOooo she can’t awaken her powers oh no what’s a gal to do!

And I do mean that quite literally, this entire stage is all centered around two scenes with Zelda. The first, an admittedly narratively important scene of Zelda having a quick flashback about eggbot after he sings her a song, but it lasts for five seconds. And the second, being a pep talk with Urbosa as Link eats rocks in the background. For the majority of this stage, it’s all focused on Zelda, and pacing wise, it does virtually nothing to progress the narrative/plot forward.

And on paper, there’s nothing wrong with that! Hell, people read entire fanfictions dedicated to character development and relationships that have absolutely no external plot. Having a scene dedicated to just character development is completely fine, it’s something that’s pretty common and even encouraged to an extent. The problem arises when you remember that this is a story being told through the medium of a video game. 

Now, I am going to try and  breeze by this because, similar to Age of Calamity, I have to also construct this post with pacing that keeps my audience engaged, while progressing with my core narrative and story. But I highly encourage you to watch through this video by hello future me (On Writing: How to Master Pacing) because a lot of what I know about this I’ve picked up from his videos, and if you’re a writer or just someone who thinks storytelling is cool, it’s a great guide to the art of pacing.

Anyhow. There are two levels of pacing within a story. There is the small type of pacing, like for the structure of a singular scene. And there is the pacing of the overall core narrative, how the larger beats of the entire story is revealed. Good pacing for your core narrative is about whether the reader feels like they are getting closer to the big thing, the big climax or answer or promise of satisfaction. The smaller type of pacing, for your singular scenes, focuses on that timing between how close you get to achieving new information, this refers to  your slow and fast pacing, tension versus rapid action.  

So, overall the rule of thumb is: the amount of time you invest into your smaller scenes, even put together, that must correlate with a big enough payoff in the core narrative. That’s what good pacing is. (And that’s why people make stuff like the Three Act Structure to help visualize this pacing process but obviously other forms of pacing guidelines exist like the Five and Seven Act Structures but that’s too complicated for this Nintendo Game anyhow that’s just some educational flavour for ya to impress your highschool English Teacher I guess) 

So knowing that, the question now is: Does The Road Home, Besieged contribute good pacing to the story? This is going to be my excuse for changing up other later scenes in the game, so when I mention pacing and narrative again, remember this. The time spent playing for thirty minutes, minimum, in the game, to only be paid off by two lines of character development isn’t good pacing. So the answer is “no.” 

Delving as long an amount of time as thirty minutes, means that pretty much everytime a stage is complete, you must introduce new substantial progress to your story. A game like this just doesn’t have time to waste it’s valuable cutscenes on character development alone. There’s an even further wrench in the issue when you consider you also need to account for sidequests, so you could really be forcing your player to go through hours of gametime before you introduce new details in the story. 

Obviously it’s not always gonna be cut and dry like that—sometimes you have to account for how enjoyable the gameplay is, and sometimes the amount of character development offsets any lack of narrative development—but for the majority of stages I’m gonna change, they all suffer this pacing problem. In a game that's entire story hinges on these cutscenes, bad pacing is just something it doesn’t have time for.

Anyhow anyhow anyhow, I got to get my dose of serotonin by talking about pacing writing structure and stuff and blah blah, so now I shall grace you with the changes that address these problems that would theoretically lead to vast improvement. I gave you this reasoning and backstory to writing because I am making hella changes, to hopefully make the experience more “poggers,” which is something the cool kids say these days if you didn’t know. 

Firstly, timeline wise this stage is gonna take place directly after the Korok Forest battle. The gang is returning home from the battle, with Link, the new wielder of the Master Sword, along with this new information regarding a certain Astor character. 

We open the same way it does in game, focusing on Zelda’s face, before the frame is suddenly blocked by the pommel of the Master Sword. A wordless way to express how the sudden revelation of Link being the hero has forced its way into Zelda’s mind, great use of camera Koei Tecmo 10 outta 10

Now I don’t want to immediately jump into Zelda’s “oh poor me I can’t awaken my powers” dialogue because—and this is something even Breath of the Wild is guilty of—This game seems to forget that there are other characters besides Zelda. It’s marketed towards kids, sure, but I assure you that kids playing this game have a longer attention span than 2 minutes. You don’t need to keep reminding the audience every single scene about how Zelda is anxious about her powers. It gets redundant, you waste the audience’s time, and therefore you waste your own time, because you could have been using that precious screen time to develop some other thing further.  So anyhow, goes a bit like this. 

Zelda’s walking, the Master Sword comes into frame. Zelda looks down at the ground but keeps walking, but you can tell from her expression that she’s troubled. Don’t need to waste time on dialogue for her here, show don’t tell, we need to make the most of the scene here. Camera is still on Zelda, but the focus blurs shifts from Zelda to the Champions behind her. We can start with Mipha, I don’t have my heart set heavily on any specific dialogue, but I want her to say something along the lines of “how proud she is of Link” and what an honor it will be to fight by the side of not just her dear friend, but also someone selected by the goddess to be the hero. Subtextually, I want her to say this in a tone that suggests that she doubts the need for her to be here at all. She’ll say something like “He’s grown so…” glances up at Link who's just walking ahead, “...so much stronger than I could ever imagine. [Something Something] His power has grown so much over the course of a few days, more than I have achieved in a lifetime.” She looks down, but she still has a sweet smile. 

Now I’m doing this because I want to develop further this plot line of “getting stronger” that Age of Calamity sets up but never does anything with. Remember how in Chapter 2, Mipha asks Daruk to train with her to get stronger? I really like the possibilities of this arc with Mipha as it can not only parallel with her feelings for Link, but also make her character better as an individual. Mipha wants to get stronger so that she can protect Link, but now she thinks that Link’s already growing stronger to an extent that she might not be needed. She’s not jealous of Link, nor does she wish him to be weaker, she simply wants to be more than she already is. This is literally echoing her words that she left her father, about how leaving the Domain and experiencing new challenges would be “good for her.” So I wanna run with it. The dialogue here establishes Mipha’s motivation to grow stronger, almost equivalent to a rivalry of sorts. 

So after Mipha says this, Revali scoffs and butts in. Again, I’m not too set on any particular dialogue here, just something like “Hmph! Well, I don’t know about that. Seems to me all that’s happened is some magic sword gave the knight an ego boost. Blade’s only as strong as the little Hylian who wields it, and—based on my own extended experience and professional observations of course—I’ve yet to see this ‘stronger’ boy that you speak of.” Another camera pan to Link a ways in front of them. “If you ask me, hero or no, that knight is still exactly the same as I first met him.”

Revali places a wing on his chest dramatically. “Perhaps if you’re truly keen on seeing growth in skill and strength, Mipha, you’d do well to—”

“Flattering of an offer as that may be, Revali,” Urbosa interjects, “But I think Mipha might find it difficult to observe growth from one of the shortest Rito in Hyrule.”

Cue laughter from others or snickering or something. We just need some banter to add a bit more flavour to the characters. Revali can do a little huff and cross his wings or flip his scarf or something. But then Urbosa continues. 

“Although...he is right about one thing.” Urbosa looks straight ahead. “A sword does not alter a hand, just as strength does not alter character.” She puts a hand on Mipha’s shoulder. “Grow as he might, there is no doubt in my mind that he is the same boy as he’s always been.” Urbosa looks up in the direction of Zelda. “Whether you realize it or not.”

Ok so, scene’s not done yet, BUT quick gush on the dialogue flow here. I’m trying to establish parallels in these character perspectives based on the flow of conversation. We started with Mipha who, like I said, wished to grow stronger along with Link. This flows into Revali who also has a similar parallel as he wishes to grow above Link’s shadow. But the distinction between Mipha and Revali is that Mipha think’s Link’s strength is earned, and Revali thinks he cheated, gaining authority through a magic sword, and not through merit and skill. Thus, leading to Revali’s perspective of Link being exactly the same as he’s always been, he believes the sword doesn’t change anything. Urbosa then speaks, because she thinks exactly the same thing. However, her distinction is that Link is the same as he’s always been: a determined young boy earned his place and cares for his friends. Then she looks to Zelda who, as we know, will develop a perspective that contradicts this. So you get it? This scene is like 20 seconds long but it already mirrors nearly all the character parallels and perspective, that’s why the flow of dialogue is important. And I know half of you probably think these kinds of details are a stretch but I promise you it’s not, just look at any movie or show ever and I guarantee you can find similar stuff there too. Ok moving on moving on— 

Urbosa looks up at Zelda, comments her, “He’s the same boy, whether you realize it or not” piece of dialogue. Camera shifts back to Zelda and Link, who, idk if I mentioned this, but in the scene there’s enough distance between the Champions and Zelda and Link that the Champions can speak without the other two listening. So they didn’t hear any of this. 

So the camera is back on Zelda, and now we can get her “How can I…..If I am unable to awaken my inner power….” line. Eggbot senses her sadness, does his little cheer up dance, Zelda gets a flashback.

One small change I wanna make to this flashback: Instead of just a baby Zelda going “nighty-night” I want there to ALSO be a figure in the background behind eggbot wearing a silk royal blue dress. And said woman has blonde hair and she’s by the table back there. We don’t have to show her face or anything because Nintendo hates that. Just place the woman somewhere in the back somewhere

Also possibly you could add the shadow of another figure by the doorway, maybe? It would serve good continuity purposes for the plot points that I’m telling, but that part is not as necessary. I just need at least the woman there. 

Then Zelda is like “I remember you” to eggbot and all that and blah blah… Now, instead of Impa offscreen just yelling “enemy ahead!” I just want it to be a full on ambush. Not like a major one, but just enough where the group is surprised a bit. Maybe on the cliffs above, a lizalfo throws a boomerang, or a bokoblin shoots and arrow, or even just throws a rock. I don’t really care. I just need this to happen because…

As soon as this danger is presented, Link turns around to grab Zelda’s hand and they start running again. And he can like use his body to try and shield her a bit, I need it to parallel how he acted during Chapter 1 on the road to the Royal Tech Lab. However, this parallel has one important distinction because…

Zelda rips he grip from Link’s after a moment. “You don’t need to coddle me!” She says, or something along those lines. “Y-You...You’re the hero aren’t you! I’m perfectly fine, you don’t need to spend your precious time playing babysitter to me.” In the distance, a horde of monsters is beginning to form. Zelda looks between the monsters and Link’s Master Sword, her expression unreadable. “Well? Just...just go do what you need to do.” Link hesitates, looking between her, and the approaching monsters. Zelda speaks more sternly now, “Go!” So Link, not one to disregard an order from the Princess, gives one last look to Zelda before setting off towards the monsters. Maybe Zelda can take a deep breath to steady herself after he leaves, but as soon as Link unsheathes his sword, the metal glistening in the setting sunlight, it cuts immediately to gameplay. Start battle. 

For essays’ purposes this is the part where I explain why this is better than the original. So here’s my reasoning:

Uhhh, it just is. :3

Ok but seriously, I’ve already talked a tone about why the pacing and dialogue flow is better than the original. But also this scene doesn’t just say “Ooo Zelda is sad about her powers,” because that’s not interesting. Like I said, it’s redundant information. What is interesting is see how characters deal with that internal conflict and how it affects their relationships. AKA Zelda’s relationship with Link, who now basically embodies the success that she’s been working so hard towards but never achieved, is deteriorating a bit. I wanted to get that sense of the Zelda that we see in Breath of the Wild because all things considered, they should be roughly the same character.

So that’s that, you fight the battle, the Hollows show up a bit, so insert “dark evil Champion” dialogue because if you’re gonna use the evil clone trope might as well use it to the fullest. Then you fight the Talus and hurray horrah the day is saved. 

Then we have that iconic Urbosa motherly pep talk to Zelda as Link eats rocks in the background. Now honestly, I’m not that big a fan of the first half of the dialogue, so I wanna change it into something more interesting. But the rest of the beats and camera work go roughly the same. 

Zelda: “Link is...so much stronger now”

Urbosa: “‘And yet I have not.’ I presume that’s what you’re thinking, hmm?”

Zelda: “Well it’s true, isn’t it? More and more, monsters have been appearing around Hyrule. It is a sign that the Calamity draws near. So...there isn’t much time. And still, no sign of my power awakening.”

Urbosa: *sighs* “Little bird…”

Zelda cuts her off, in an attempt to change topics: “Why do you call me that?”

Urbosa: “Hmm?”

Zelda: “Little bird...I feel like I’ve heard it before. Why do you call me that?”

Urbosa, after a beat looks off in the distance or something: “A long time ago, my dear friend would call me to the palace, or perhaps invite herself over to mine, [she chuckles] ...and she would talk with me all day, and ask me to gaze upon her little bird with her. Her dearest daughter...a princess”

Zelda: “You mean my…”

Urbosa just smiles with a soft nod: “Back then, times were a bit different. The destiny that you have was still upon the Queen, who worked day and night to refine her powers and fulfill her destiny. In just a few short years, I went from being friends with a Queen, to friends with the destined sealer of the Calamity.”

Another pause, before Urbosa speaks again: “But...she was still the same woman I had grown with. Still the same loving mother who spoke about her little bird with joy. She had not changed one bit.”

Urbosa: “Even when your mother passed, her loving smile was there until the very end. She always loved you—believed in you, Zelda. She had great hope, great faith that her daughter would grow into the beacon of light Hyrule needed. That even with her gone, you would spread your wings and fly, because you were just that amazing to her.” *Urbosa puts her hands on Zelda’s shoulders.*

Urbosa: “Destiny did not change your mother’s love, just as it does not change Link’s courage, or your value.” *the camera can pan to Link eating rocks now*

Urbosa looks directly at Zelda now: “Look how hard we’ve all worked to get this far, how hard you have worked to get here. While we may grow in strength, in that regard, we’re all one in the same.”

Zelda: “...I….well…”

Urbosa: “What did the Great Deku Tree say? There is no need to fret princess.”

Urbosa: “Our faith, Link’s, your mother’s, it’s all as strong as ever. And everyday, with every moment that you travel towards your destiny, it just grows. It is always with us. So believe in that, have hope, yet, little bird.” *Eggbot can scurry up and make cute noises here next to Zelda*

Urbosa: “I know, you are where you need to be. You must accept that too.”

Zelda: “...”

Zelda gives a solemn nod: “Thank you, Urbosa.”

So that’s that scene! Don’t let the length fool you, it’s technically even shorter than the original scene in Age of Calamity. So why is it, in my opinion, better? Because for one, we actually get an insight into Zelda’s mom and Urbosa’s relationship, something that was PROMISED To us but never given and I’m still a bit salty about it. Anyhow, in addition to just getting some lore details, that relationship between the Queen and Urbosa is important for this scene because, just like Urbosa spells out, it’s in direct parallel with Link and Zelda. 

Before the Queen suddenly got sick and died, she was destined to seal the Calamity. But she didn’t let that destiny change her, she was still the same loving mother to the end. Now that is something that Zelda needs to realize about Link, as his newly acquired destiny doesn’t change who he was before, the knight who cares for her and wishes to protect her. Zelda needs to realize he’s the same and that she can still trust and confide in him. Hence, that’s why this mom backstory is in this scene and not somewhere else, because it serves to the narrative but also more impactfully to the character development. 

The dialogue could probably be polished a bit more but come on, not half bad for an improvement yeah? So that concludes Chapter—

SIKE we’re not done yet. We still have to move into the entire point of this stage, the road home, to the castle. 

So, badabing badaboom, I’m adding an entirely new scene from scratch right here at the end, because it is VITAL that I set up something new about the story, as a sort of clincher. So anyhow 

Zelda is alone with her father, let’s set it in the royal library (Intact, not ruined, of course) because we don’t see enough of that location and it’s really cool. So Zelda is briefing her dad about the events in Korok Forest and on the journey back home. I know I always gush about cinematography but it can’t be fully appreciated since I’m….writing,,, this, BUT I think it might be fun if the side shots of Zelda have her background be some bookcases of the library, maybe half bookcases and the other half the ornate walls. Then the background for the King’s shots is the full symmetry of the elegant staircases.

[And if you needed the specific reasoning for that, because it makes camera shots more fun. Like when Zelda says something that aids in her scholarly side, the camera angle can change slightly where the bookcases take up more of the frame, and then when the King’s will takes more power, then the book cases can be angled a bit more out of frame. And then the symmetry of the King by the staircase is a way to show his higher power dynamic to her, and contrasts well with Zelda’s shots since the bookcases are dark and the stone is lighter, so on a meta level is also makes it easier for the audience to understand where they are. Shot composition is fun ok, and that’s not even getting into color theory (Thinks about Baby Driver and LaLaLand....even videogames like Undertale and Hollow Knight have such wonderful shot composition and use of color theory hhhhh love it)]

Ok so Zelda’s briefing the King in the library, she’s standing while he’s sitting at a desk. There’s maybe two or four Royal Guards on the staircase entrances, but for the most part, they’re alone. You can tell that this meeting between them has been going on for a bit now, as from Zelda’s dialogue, she’s retelling events midway through the story. 

The King is flipping through some paperwork, not really looking Zelda in the eyes. She continues speaking. 

“And so...with the malice cleared and the monsters being dealt with, Link and I made our way into the heart of Korok Forest.”

The King hums a response, flipping through another page. “And this is when Link pulled out the Sword that Seals the Darkness then, I presume.”

Zelda paused, as of thinking of how to phrase her next words. “Not exactly. I...we both encountered someone beforehand. A man, with a pale face, and dark hair and robes, and he had the power to control malice, using a strange object in one of his hands.” 

Rhoam stops writing in his journal or whatever. He doesn’t look up, but the sudden stop he makes is obvious. Zelda notices, but continues. 

“He talked about...the Calamity, and my birthday...destiny, and the future….I’m not quite sure I can remember his intentions word for word. But he did introduce himself as—“

“Astor…” Zelda and the King say simultaneously. The King has fully perked up now, looking at Zelda. She’s pleased to see a reaction from him. The King rises from his chair, and starts pacing a bit, stroking his beard thoughtfully like the asshole he is. 

“So you know him then? This Astor man? Who is he, father? What does he—“

“Were you alright? Did he hurt you, or mention anything else?”

Zelda pauses for a moment before shaking her head, as if the concern he was expressing was uncharacteristic. “N-No. No, I’m fine, and Link was there. During the battle, as Link fought him off, that was when the sword was pulled. Then Astor fled, or...” Zelda pauses for a beat, “retreated...he expressed his wish to speak with me again.”

Another beat of silence, as Rhoam gets up, hands clasped behind his back. “He used to work at this very palace.” The shot is now directly on Rhoams back, as he faces a bookcase, although it’s clear that he’s just deep in thought, and not just staring at books. Rhoam is in third column of the shot (he’s to the right, not in the center) 

“A trusted advisor. Someone gifted with foresight, who many years ago, had first predicted the coming Calamity.” Cut to shot of Rhoams face, the camera being by the bookcase, so that we see Rhoam’s expression and Zelda’s.

“In truth, I thought him dead. For the last time I saw him alive—truly, truly alive—was ten long years ago...” The shot goes back to the original establishing shot, of Rhoam facing away from the camera, towards the bookcase, he’s standing to the right, hands still clasped behind his back.

“...when your mother still graced this earth.”

From left frame, a younger Astor walks up and stands beside Rhoam. He runs his fingers along the books. Rhoam looks to his left, as if he is seeing Astor. Camera cuts to Astor’s right, as if looking at him from Rhoam’s perspective. He continues brushing his fingers against the spines of the books, before he finds the one he’s looking for. Pulling it out, he opens the book, flipping through its pages, before giving a genuine smile. Cut back to wide angle behind them. With the book, Astor starts walking back out left frame, but this time the camera follows him. Filter fade to a memory tint as the camera pans right to left

[when the camera fades fully into the Astor memory, the figures can have that silhouetted effect like you see in botw. Cause I know Nintendo hates making new character models for some reason.] 

So if it wasn’t clear already, even though the memory filter doesn’t come immediately, Astor isn’t actually there, but it’s just a flashback. I’m a sucker for merges, which is something this game and botw NEVER do which bugs me because there are so many creative ways you could introduce flashbacks without just doing “ooOooOoo fade to sepia filter and then oooOOooOOO we fade back to reality and no time has passed.” I apologize if my explanation of the camera doesn’t make sense as it’s hard without much visual aid, but hopefully it makes sense so far. Anyhow! Let’s continue.

We’re now fully immersed in this memory, but King Rhoam’s voice still narrates overhead. 

Astor brings the book to one of the desks in the library, where a woman sits writing something onto paper. News flash, it’s the queen. Astor hands her the book and starts speaking about something, although you can tell the tone of their conversation is light, almost akin to Zelda rambling about Sheikah Technology. The Queen laughs about something unheard, as Astor continues ranting about something, his hands moving to like a professor giving a lecture. 

Rhoam Narration: “When he had first predicted the Calamity, things were much more hopefully for our kingdom. As although his foresight granted him only glimpses and fragments of a future, he was almost certain that with the Guardians, and the strength of your mother’s power, our victory would be absolute.”

Scene changes to the Queen walking down a corridor, Astor is leaning against the wall by a window. 

Rhoam Narration: “He and your mother would often work together tirelessly to study the ancient arts, to make the most of the powers given by the goddess.”

The Queen has walked up to Astor now. She crouches down and gestures to her left, the side not yet seen by the camera.

Rhoam Narration: “In fact…”

The camera changes to focus to where the Queen was looking towards—a young Zelda, crouched behind her mother’s dress, stares up at Astor. 

Rhoam Narration: “I would not be surprised if you found within yourself, a memory of such.”

I would prefer if you could see the expressions of Astor (giving Zelda not a smile, but not really a frown or anything rude either) and young Zelda. But I guess it can also just be silhouettes too cause again, Nintendo hates giving us younger character models outside of first person POV stuff. Anyhow. 

The scene fades, the light from the window dimming as everything darkens.

Rhoam Narration: “I often times wish we could go back to such a time, when victory and pride swam in every corner of this castle.  But of course…”

The scene brightens again, although not as bright as before. It’s the exact same corridor with the large window, but now it’s raining. A young Zelda stands alone in front of it, looking outside.

Rhoam Narration: “Such a time did end…”

We now cut to a new scene, King Rhoam is walking down a hall, the camera’s perspective is of a bird’s eye view, like we’re peering in from outside a window. We can see the shadow of Astor chasing after him, as he starts speaking frantically about something, not quite, but almost to the point of shouts. 

Rhoam Narration: “After your mother died, the visions of the future shifted drastically. No longer was there glimpses of rolling fields and shimmering skies, but instead, of rubble, red earth, and death.”

You can now more clearly hear the words coming out of Astor’s mouth. He is telling something about failure, and souls, and the Calamity to the King’s ear. He’s still walking forward.

Rhoam Narration: “He was adamant that our demise was now coming faster than ever, and that without your mother, we were doomed. That even you, should you take up your mother’s mantle, could not save everyone.”

Astor: “I’m telling you Your Majesty, if you go down this path, there is no going back.”

King Rhoam: “There is no other choice, we are moving forward.”

Astor: “I don’t think you quite understand the true gravity of the fate you’re choosing for yourself. It is a guarantee that you, me, and countless others shall die.”

King Rhoam: “I don’t want to hear it.”

Astor: “And of course, there are a multitude of possibilities, but the end result is the same.”

Astor: “Do you have a preference, perhaps? Crushed by rubble? Suffocation under ash?”

Rhoam’s tone is deadly: “Stop.”

Astor: “I’ve seen fire too. I’m not yet quite sure the exact circumstances that lead to flame appearing and spreading so quickly, but rest assured that if you—”

King Rhoam: “Stop.” 

Astor: “If you saddle someone else with this duty I am absolutely certain that you and I will—” 

King Rhoam, voice not shouting, but still with a booming intensity: “Just like you were so certain of our victory 10 years ago?”

Astor’s face darkens. He’s silent for a moment, collecting his words before practically spitting the first articulation: “...That, future, was the one that would come to be if Her Majesty was alive. If you’re so unsatisfied with my departed wisdom you can go ahead and flail around with destiny alone. You think I choose for these events to happen? You think I lie when I saw I want what’s best for this kingdom—”

King Rhoam: “What’s best for you.”

An ugly pause.

King Rhoam: “It is decided, Seer. It’s time you accept this. My wife is dead. That is the truth. Thus the role of sealing the Calamity shall pass to my daughter. She will work to awaken her own ability. It will be her duty to save us.”

Astor half laughs: “A child?! Surely you don’t need the supernatural to see how foolish that is.”

King Rhoam’s voice is even more stern: “You are living proof that the future is not absolute. Therefore I...must place all belief in her ability.”

The King walks away, leaving Astor alone. Weirdly, he smiles. Perhaps to mask some other emotion.  

After another moment, Astor yells to the King: “I’ll fix this! Alone if I must!” He’s chuckling as he shakes his head. “Your useless faith may cost many lives, but even so mark my words, I will fix this.”

The King looks back, but says nothing, his expression unreadable. He continues forward, leaving Astor alone chuckling, or perhaps something in between chuckling and crying to himself.  

Rhoam Narration: “We haven’t spoken since that day. I simply left him to his devices. If he was so determined to find another way to stop the Calamity, then who was I to stop him. I doubt my word could have swayed his mind regardless.

We’re now looking at a room, the camera is just by the doorway, looking at an office, circular and domed. It’s stone brick walls are covered in parchment and ripped books, covered in symbols and frantic writing. An old Sheikah tapestry hangs crudely on the left wall, and the window on the right seems to tint grey, or even a deepest crimson. Centerframe, is the back of Astor, robe hanging just above the paper ridden floor. He is flipping through something on his desk. 

Rhoam Narration: “Fixated as he was on the perfect future that you mother might have led, I still had hope that with time, he might still assist you with your destiny one day.”

The camera slowly comes closer to Astor. We can see more clearly the type of stuff that sprawls the papers and books and diagrams across his office. Some depict stars and constellations, and even a few notes on Ancient Technology, although in a noticeably cleaner font. However, as the camera moves close and closer to Astor, the papers and books depict only one clear topic: the aura of death that comes only with necromancy. 

Rhoam Narration: “It seems…”

Astor finally reacts to whatever he was doing on his desk. You don’t see his eyes, but as he fully turns around to face the camera, you see his smile, along with him holding a dark orb of unknown energy. It hovers in his hand. 

Rhoam Narration: “...I was mistaken.” 

The camera cuts to a wide angle, looking at Astor from behind a stack of books on his desk. The stack of books on Astor’s desk brighten in color (from the memory dull filter), until the scene fully fades back into the Royal Library. The camera is now focused on a similar stack of books on the desk behind Zelda, where Rhoam was working before. 

Zelda is still looking at her father, who is still turned away. Now, he turns back around to face her.

“He had disappeared completely one day, so it was my understanding that whatever he was working on killed him. However, if he is truly back as you say…”

Rhoam walks closer to Zelda, close enough that he might have put a hand on her shoulder, but his arms stay behind his back.

“It is in your utmost interest to prove him wrong. I know not what he plans on doing, but it would be wise to stop him before he does.”

Rhoam turns away now, pacing back to the otherside of the desk. “But, your more important priority is unlocking your powers, understand? Now more than ever, is not the time to get distracted.”

Zelda, taking this all in, takes a deep breath. She then nods at him. “I understand...Father.”

After a moment, the King makes a motion as if to dismiss her. She starts to walk away, her thoughts churning in her head, heart thumping to the same beat as her echoing footsteps. Suddenly, Rhoam calls, 

“Zelda.” It’s not a question, but the tone is asked like one.

She turns back, looking at him, expectantly. Rhoam only stares at her, an uncharacteristic moment of uncertainty for him. The words he wants to form seem stuck in his throat, until finally, he lets out a quiet breathe through his nose, before simply saying:

“You must.”

Zelda can only frown, her shoulder’s slumping slightly, as she ducks her head and leaves.

- - - - - - 

And that’s that! That’s the complete end of Chapter 3. So tune in next time for Chapter 4, including a new slight but important story changes, Yiga husbands, and shocking turns of events.

Edit: I forgot that posts with link’s dont show up in tag results so a rb is appreciated :p

[secretshinigami]

routine and soft eyes

Author: @hazblogs For: @beyondplusultra Pairings/Characters: nearmellomatt, mention of lawlight Rating/Warnings: T, mentions of Mello’s scar  Prompt: Wammy House kids sleepover (A, B, L can be included, can be AU) Author’s notes: I had so much fun with this !!! soft bois…. thank you to anyone who reads it !!

Mello is positively fuming. Someone (who shall not be named, though if you want to know it starts with “N” and ends with “-ate River”) just got on top of Forensic Science and Investigative Skills and History of Crime and the Justice System. Those are Mello’s topics. They’re the best at these and they always have been (in the two years they’ve studied here. But that’s long enough, right ?), so the fact that Mister Nobody just came in and stole their turf… That’s infuriating. To top it all off, the dean did them dirty and assigned someone to the second bed in their room, knowing full well that they need that second bed for Matt. This week is just a pile of flaming shit.

As they swing the door open they are greeted by the beeping sounds usually coming from Matt’s bed, a comforting electronic melody. Matt doesn’t even turn around to raise his middle finger to protest against how loud Mello is, but that’s also common practice around here, so no worries. 

“Heard you got your ass beat,” Matt says a while later, Mello’s hand carding through his strawberry-green hair. “By the newbie no less. How’re you taking it ?”

“Matt, my hand is dangerously close to your eyes and you need those to play on that stupid console. Better not risk it.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me,” Matt grumbles, and the certainty with which he speaks makes their heart pulse just a little faster. Mello is hopelessly in love, aren’t they ?

The rest of the evening is quiet save for that same musical background, a welcome white noise as Mello finishes their essay for Writing Comedy. The teacher seems to have some trouble with their rather macabre humour so they try to tone it down for once - rather unsuccessfully.

“Also heard you’ll have a roommate,” Matt continues a few hours later as they prepare for bed - gotta put some moisturiser on that scar like a damsel doing her skincare routine, the doctor said, “or you’ll experience how actually painful it can be”. Talk about being threatening…

“I heard. I can kick them out.” Mello would do it. Without remorse, even.

“I can sleep in your bed too,” Matt offers. “But only if you promise not to kick me out from under the covers every single night.”

“Okay, first of all, fuck off, and secondly, why the hell would I want someone else to room with me ? You’re already here. You’ve always been here.”

“And I always will be, Mels. Just… I think it’s time you get out of your shell a little bit, you know ? You can’t keep pretending that talking to me twice every day and ignoring Linda a couple times a week is enough friendly interaction for the little pea inside your coconut.” Mello turns away from the mirror, moisturiser in hand, and sends a glare to Matt who sighs and raises his hands in defeat. “Don’t say I didn’t try ! Think about it, okay, Mello ?”

They do think about it. The whole night. They don’t sleep - it’s not because Matt snores but that’s the excuse they’ll use. Ever since the accident and the scar, people have usually been too impressed - or scared - by them to even consider starting a casual conversation. Matt was there even before, and he probably always will be, Linda is a weirdo who wants to draw them with a ponytail, and… Well, that’s it. Mello lives for schoolwork, to be the best and hope to right some of the wrongs in this world.

“Yo, Mihael,” the dean says when he sees them in front of his office the following morning. Lawliet is a TA at their university, still haunting the dorms. He has a creepy smile under his stupid raccoon eyes and he keeps using Mello’s birthname, like it makes any more sense to call them with that than to call them “xXx_sexy_blondie_xXx”, or however you pronounce that out loud.

“Lawliet. I saw you assigned me a roommate.”

“I did,” he smiles still, like there’s a joke Mello doesn’t get.

“Why ?” Mello would actually like to know - Lawliet never does anything at random.

“You’ll see when he arrives later today,” is the cryptic answer, and Mello sneers at their stupid fucking dean as they leave for their 8am lecture.

Because yes, multiple things are out to get their skin - though they won’t be deterred.

The day goes by in a flash, Screenwriting and Poetry being two of their most interesting classes, and by the time they’ve finished their Crime Prevision and Prevention homework at the library, the sun is well on its way down. Mello walks slowly to the dorms, enjoying the warm air - it’s still only September and winter hasn’t come yet. The music blasting from their headphones is a perfect background to the chill atmosphere, a few bird silhouettes dark against the wonderfully peach clouds. In a few minutes they’ll kiss Matt and they’ll eat a bite, and they’ll sleep knowing they’re safe now.

When they arrive in front of their room, a few cardboard boxes occupy the entrance. Shit fuck hell, they’d forgotten the roommate arrived today. All they can see from where they’re blocked from entering is a white blob of hair on top of baggy clothes, perched on the desk and looking at whatever Matt is playing.

“Uh, I’m supposed to be able to enter my own room,” Mello kind of yells. Only kind of. “Would you please not be a giant stupid bother before I even get your name ?”

“Sorry,” the snowball says, not looking sorry at all. “I’m Nate River.”

“But you can call him Near ! He plays retro games, which isn’t… let’s say it’s not my strong point, but I’m sure it’ll go well, we’re three whole weirdos with weirdo nicknames !”

Mello blinks. Near is still here. They blink again. Near is still here, looking a little like a frog with his lopsided smile, a hand playing with one of his curls. Mello blinks a third time and doesn’t expect Near to have packed his things and go, but that was a close call.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” they mutter. “Lawliet is gonna get killed.”

“You actually know enough about criminology to not be caught, so go you.” Near is smirking. Mello wants to cry. “But I would advise against it, because he’s dating that twink Light Yagami, the alumni who came last week to give the presentation about the War on Drugs and its consequences. He’s a police lieutenant now.”

“Called it !” Matt raises a fist in victory, taking five years from Mello’s lifespan. “Anyway, now that you’re here, please do help us with the last boxes. We’ve been setting up Near’s compy and it’s revoltingly difficult.”

“I will not- how can you ask me to- I’m gonna commit arson and this time I promise I’ll succeed !”

“Dramatic bitch,” Matt says jovially. “Just come in and drop your stuff, apparently someone from the ADA thing comes tomorrow to make sure the room is accessible with a crutch and to help Near settle in.”

Mello just now notices that Near isn’t fully standing up - he’s propped on the desk, a mechanical knee peeking through the bottom of his shorts. This changes nothing - though Mello feels the both grim and hopeful sense of community that disabled people get when they meet. Their ear still works wonky and their eye ? Not the sharpest either. Without talking about all the skin damage, the phantom pain, the- hell no, they won’t get into “reflective mode” without having eaten dinner first.

Reluctantly, Mello spends the rest of the evening avoiding Near as Matt and them help him settle in, surprised by the small amount of belongings he actually has - most of the boxes he brought are board games and hundreds of little kapla sticks. Is Near planning to recreate the Golden Bridge ? He looks like a nerd, maybe it’ll be the Death Star.

Routines are a persistent thing, and before they know it, Near has managed to get a small space - small, they insist - in Mello’s well-oiled machinery. He eats breakfast with Matt, a meal that Mello forgoes entirely, and he goes on unfortunate walks to his PT appointments, because he’s out of money from whatever government organism gives benefits to disabled people and can’t afford a cab. Mello thinks they should get into it a little more, maybe call their case worker, because ramen tastes worse and worse when you have it for every meal of the week. And then Near and Matt start talking about something or another, especially topics that annoy Mello, or Near gets a little too close to them while they both work on their assignments at their desk, his elbow barely brushing Mello’s side. It makes them shiver, but they will ignore that, thank you very much.

Another routine - bedtime - has gotten a little different. One single bed is enough for “one person and a half”, according to Matt, so the obvious solution to them being three in a two single beds room is to push the beds together.

“And now you have a perfect three people beddery !” Matt triumphantly declared. “Mello, you sleep in the middle.”

“Why am I in the middle ?” they protested. “It’s the least comfortable !”

“Oh well, we can take turns,” Near had snarked, knowing full well that the first one of them to sleep in the middle would have to accept defeat.

Mello does end up in the middle, Matt cuddled against their left side where the burn is, and Near an ever-closer presence against their right arm. It’s not as uncomfortable as they expected. Near doesn’t snore and he smells like minty toothpaste, a strangely comforting scent that lulls Mello to sleep way more easily than the five thousand melatonin pills they take before going to bed.

Oh well, maybe Lawliet can live a little longer. His boyfriend - Matt saw them kissing through the peephole, it’s official now - won’t have any (more) reasons to put Mello behind bars.

Near gets on top of International Law and keeps wearing strangely baggy clothes everywhere - or well, everywhere but in the dorms. Mello has time to get used to that mechanical knee, even asking a few questions about phantom pains on the days Matt is away and the itching gets unmanageable. Near is quiet like snow but they’re nothing alike in warmth, grey eyes like molten metal setting on Mello’s face and crinkling in a smile.

And it works wonders. One time they get a bad mark (for their standards) and they even study with Near for extra credit, a presentation about the death penalty that lasts about three quarters of the two hours class. The teacher gives them both full marks and Matt celebrates by crushing them both against his chest, the smell of motor oil and mint so comforting that Mello closes his eyes, just for a little while.

It’s winter before they have time to think about it, and finals go by in a blur of “no sleep, no food, no distractions”. They even manage to end up at the nurse’s office when they faint during the Criminology Theory exam, forced to drink sugar water until the world stops exploding in a million tiny stars when they move their head.

Mello thinks that surviving their last winter exam session ever - they should be able to find a job with a double Master’s degree in Criminology and Creative writing, right ? - deserves a celebratory nap and they sprawl on the bed as soon as they’re back from the last stupid oral presentation they have to do about stupid Foundations of Criminal Justice. Near is not in the room - which is weird, because he finished five minutes and thirty six seconds before them - and Matt is away for the day to try and get his internship at the garage, so they have the full three-person bed, and they fully intend to enjoy the luxury.

They enjoy it so much that they fall asleep, only noticing that time has passed because before they blinked, it was day, and it is now very much nighttime. Light giggles fill the room along with the muted light from Near’s bedside lamp, and Mello takes the time to relish in the quiet atmosphere. Hushed conversation rises from near the desk, giggles and the smell of hot chocolate both making Mello sit up at last.

“Lookit you ! Sleeping beauty arises. Though I haven’t kissed you yet,” Matt smiles, and he climbs on the bed to press his lips against Mello’s. “Love you,” he whispers as he pulls away and goes back to slump on Near’s shoulder.

At first, Near felt like an intruder each time Matt kissed them, but he’s become so embedded in their life that Mello doesn’t feel any awkwardness anymore - to the point where not including him has become the cause of their inner turmoil.

Because yeah, uh, there’s that. Near in a tank top and booty shorts, prosthetic being painted on by a very enthusiastic Matt, has become the new image they conjure up each time the need to strangle someone arises. And poof, instant peace. Discreet touches, Near sleeping fully cuddled against their right side now, Matt nosing through Near’s hair just after he’s washed it because his strawberry shampoo smells divine, Mello even going as far as ruffling Near’s hair without warning, just to see his little nose scrunch up… All that has become routine too, and suddenly the change is too big to go by unmentioned. 

They’ve managed to hold on to their feelings until then but as Matt starts talking again, Near’s smile is a little too tight - though his eyes sparkle, it’s like… something’s missing. 

“Emergency mee-ee-ting,” they yawn, the skin around their left eye crinkling up painfully. Near notices and doesn’t even ask before grabbing the petroleum jelly tube and throwing it rather inaccurately at their face. See, that’s what they were talking about, Near has just become… there, in the way Matt is there even when he’s asleep in another part of the universe where Mello can only hope to ever go to. “We gotta talk shit out.”

“Are you over your gay crisis yet ?” Matt asks, eyes calm and open, sipping hot chocolate with noisy slurps that Mello doesn’t bother mentioning anymore. His green hair looks more and more red as time passes, which is a strange feat of hair dye conspiracy. “Can we go back to playing ?”

“I haven’t even talked !” Mello protests. “I just really think it’s necessary to mention that…”

They don’t know how to continue that sentence. Near is looking at them with something strangely akin to hope, and Matt still has that infuriating openness about him like he just knows Mello so well he doesn’t need to be told what they feel. 

Near doesn’t, though, and he matters enough to Mello now for them to want to include him in the little bubble as well.

“I just think it’d be cool if we shared the secret chocolate stash with Near,” is what comes out of their mouth.

Well done caporal, please die of shame now.

“Mels, wow, that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said !” Matt’s voice drips with amusement - devoid of any mean spirit, they should add, because Matt is the one thing Mello knows is good in this world. And well, maybe there’s a second one they’ve stumbled on, and they want Near to know that he means a lot to them too.

“I mean it !” Mello whines. “He’s one of us now. I think we can share.”

“Mello. Please realise that I’ve been flirting with you this entire time,” comes Near’s deadpan answer. “The time I told you I wanted to braid your hair ? The time I made you sleep and finished the presentation alone because you’d gotten the flu and I hate being sneezed on ? The fact that Matt literally sits in my lap half the time, and only half because the other is spent on your lap ?”

“Okay, first of all, fuck off with me getting the flu.”

“You’re avoiding my question.” Near looks stubborn, and it’s a good look on him.

When did Mello start to think Near looks good ? “I, uh. I may be slightly romantically obtuse. Has Matt told you the time when-”

“-he kissed you and you thought he wanted to practice smooches for his secret best friend, because of course you wouldn’t be his best friend ?”

Utterly mortified, Mello can feel their cheeks become bright red. “Well, uh. Enough mushiness for tonight. Just pass me the chocolate, Matt, I’m starving.”

Matt giggles and throws a Kinder Egg at their face. Near munches on the leftover shell while Mello assembles the toy, and it’s peaceful - and happy, too, so when Mello raises a hand to their scar they smile still, in spite of their involuntary shiver.

[entitycradle]

A Tree Without Wind

Content warnings: mention of, discussion of, threats of, and plans to commit suicide. Panic attacks, disassociation, and paranoia are described, sometimes in detail. An eating disorder is alluded to. Characters are horny for each other but there’s nothing sexually explicit.

I promise the ending is hopeful. I genuinely am not trying to trick you, I know what this sort of thing is like, I want to respect your capacity while still being truthful to the experience and allowing tension in the story. If you’re in the right place for it, click that button.

A TREE WITHOUT WIND

I was nine years old the first time Phoenix told me he was going to kill himself. Is that too brutal? Sorry. It's where this starts. We were outside, in the morning before it got too hot, kicking around a ball in the scrubby grass. We used the long shadow of the I34Q tower to make the rules--you can't use your hands if you're in the sun, that sorta thing. It was fun because the boundaries of the shadow were always moving with the shape of the tower, and because the tower was a little scary. Phoenix lost a game and just said it, frustrated, "I'm gonna kill myself." I laughed.

When I was that age I loved looking at the shadow of the tower, because it made so much more sense than the real thing. You'd look at the dark, fuzzy stain on the ground and you could imagine it was some sort of antenna, or house, or marker. But then you'd look at the structure itself and your eyes would glaze over trying to figure it out. Unevenly rotating, stacked polyhedral structures, dark gray but covered with a rainbow film like an oil slick. Irregular pieces would be transferred between different sections with no apparent pattern. It smelled like someone you'd never met. The tower was doing something but no one was ever clear on what. That's how it is with I34Q stuff, I think.

I'm stalling. It was some stupid shit, he must've picked it up from some awful caster or something. As a kid Phoenix liked that sorta thing. He'd watch videos of mean people cursing and laughing and he'd laugh with them. I preferred my cartoons, or the I34Q casts, as weird as they were. Later I repeated what he said when I found out my dad was making squash for dinner, "I'm gonna kill myself," and my mom told me off pretty hard. Kept me from saying it again, at least in school and at home. Phoenix kept at it though.

- = -

Phoenix and I got put in the same dormitory when we went to T-school. Do they call it T-school in other places? It's the thing where 4Q tanks (as in I34Q) come and take a bunch of eleven-year-old kids to stay at "training" facilities. No one I've asked knows what T-school is actually for, same as the towers, same as all the 4Q stuff like I said before. An organic shape attached to the ground heads a classroom, gibbering except for the occasional english sentence (Phoenix said he also recognized some Cantonese). Mrs. Lough, who apparently also lives in the facility, tries to teach "formalist english," which is like english but the rules contradict themselves. You take notes on the behavior of a tank filled with inky fluid for four hours a week. One day a three-legged machine packs up your stuff and shepherds you to the gate.

I was ejected a year and a half after Phoenix. I went home on the bus and met him at burger king that afternoon. I caught a glimpse of him from outside. His hair was in long, tight braids. I felt self-conscious about the uncontrollable smile growing on my face. "Aco!" he said through a grin as I opened the glass door. A green poster advertised a meal made from "water beads," an I34Q plant thing.

"Dang," I said, grinning as I sat down. "Dang."

"You make it out? Fuck you to 4Q?" He'd stopped eating to greet me. His grin looked as uncontrollable as mine. Phoenix's nose was wide and flat, also like mine.

"Fork you, 4Q." I still felt nervous about cursing. I was fourteen. "How ya doing, Phoenix?"

"I'm good, I'm good. High school is interesting."

"Oh, man..."

"It's actually like, fucking nice to understand what's happening. But now there are actual smart kids and you actually get punished when you, y'know, mouth off. I'm like, I gotta get around to--" He swiped with his hand, bent his neck, and made a cracking sound with his mouth. I laughed. "Don't worry, I'll show you around. Maybe we'll have a class together."

- = -

We did have a class together. High school with Phoenix was fun, because I got to have a proper crush on him. Pining, sexuality, youthful obsession, yards and yards of it. It was weird, we kinda drifted--Phoenix hung out with kids that I was afraid of, I hung out with kids who played too many videogames. As our familiarity waned, I started seeing him differently. A foreign, adult desire began to penetrate me, replacing childish affection. It took me a while to realize that's what was happening.

It was a shame our familiarity waned, though, because Phoenix was really struggling, and I didn't see it. His friends were mean, when they weren't outright abusive. Not a lot of people liked him. I learned later that he started hurting himself when he was sixteen. Little cigarette burns, and then cuts. He got put on meds at seventeen--the wrong meds, for a year. He went to a psych ward when he was nineteen. His family did not have the money to pay for an extended stay. I still don't know exactly how that worked out. I do know he went into debt after his second stay two years later.

I wasn't doing too well myself, after I hit twenty-two. Something in me broke I guess. So when Phoenix told me he was going to travel to the Santitos digger and throw himself off a cliff, it didn't take me very long to ask if I could go with him.

- = -

"I... I didn't..." He paused for a long time. Ten seconds of silence feels unbearably long in a conversation, and I was quiet for fifteen. My teeth held each other tightly as his thoughts whirled. "I didn't..." He looked me in the eyes. There was an intensity to both our gazes. He'd stuck his jaw out, just a little. "I guess I did. I was, kinda, hoping you'd say that."

"Fuck," I said, looking away and down. "Fuck." I put a hand over my eyes, gripping my face as tears came.

"I'm gonna die," he said, beginning to smile and looking up. I felt the discomfort I'd felt since we were nine.

"Yeah, I wanna go, I wanna go," I said, pulling my hand away midway through and looking back at him with a force I didn't recognize.

He looked back at me and said, "I'm gonna die, and you're gonna die with me."

- = -

The Santitos digger is in northern California, in the Redwood national park. People have figured out the basic idea of what the digger is doing, unlike the towers or the T-schools: the digger is making a big hole. I'd heard that in some places it had dug more than a mile, almost straight down. Don't ask me how the digger would've done that. Don't ask me why it's called Santitos, either, since it's pretty big and not very saintly. Maybe it was the name of a town. Getting to the digger from Prince George County was about fifty hours.

"I figure we could do it in three days if we really fuck-you-pushed-it. But I'm planning on five." I craned my neck to look at Phoenix's cracked phone screen, where he'd pulled up the route.

Gas is expensive because 4Q takes most of it. Basically no one flies. Even in Phoenix's hybrid, it would be a thousand dollars to get to the west coast. But it's not like we'd need the money afterwards.

"We'll eat along the way," he continued. I bit my thumbnail. "I'm not picky, we'll just stop at wherever they won't run us out of town."

We'd sleep in the car. It was April, so temperature wouldn't be a concern. I packed a change of clothes, a water bottle, my meds, and a box cutter I'd stolen from my last job.

The next morning, he pulled his blue, dented '38 prius in front of my apartment building. I saw the car arrive out the window. There was an anxious pit in my stomach that deepened when I opened my front door. I didn't want anyone to see me. This is it, I thought, this is it, this is it. I repeated that phrase down the stairs. My landlord could fucking charge rent to my corpse, I could give a shit. This is it, I thought. That final T stretched to enrobe me. The sky was gray and wet. The sensation wasn't enough to rip me from my inwards reverie. I was about to get in the back of the car when Phoenix spoke. "That ain't it."

He was leaning out the window, regarding me coolly. "Morning. Shall we go?" I walked around the car and got in the front seat.

- = -

Virginia is beautiful once you get into the mountains, forested and rolling. I told Phoenix, "Once I read the Appalachians are millions of years old, and used to be taller than the Himalayas."

"No shit. Was there like an Everest? Where's the old Everest?"

"I don't know, I never heard anything about that. But yeah the continental plates looked totally different. And then things changed and the rain and wind and plants broke them down."

"Hah. Fucking awful. Just being broken down like that. I mean, it's better than what 4Q did to Everest."

I was quiet for a moment. "That's... the worst thing they did, right?"

"I dunno, dude, I think taking kids from their families is worse."

"No, right, right. But like... Everest was like... like everyone knew about Everest. When I was really little I had this big book about mountains and I read the bit on Everest so many times. And now it's like... they made it about them. And people lived in the Himalayas before 4Q came! It forced everyone out and carved a bunch of nonsense into it. A forever reminder that we're below them."

"Hah, literally. Hmmm. I still wouldn't say worst, but, I get what you mean. I'm so numb to it. It's good some people still care." Phoenix shrugged. "I mean I dunno. It doesn't matter much to me, at this point. But from an outside perspective it's good."

That first evening was alright. I drove Phoenix into a beautiful sunset. You hear the phrase "rode off into the sunset" and you think, what a nice ending, but it's not really an ending. If you're the cowboy you keep riding, and eventually the sky darkens and you have to set up camp and eat and sleep and wake up the next morning and eat and go riding again. A feeling of dread and desperation fills me when I think of surviving alone like that. Maybe I'd get used to it. The trip to Santitos was an attempt to write a story with a proper ending.

We didn't stop until we crossed into Illinois. We parked on the shoulder of a country road. I used the light in the car to look at the atlas we'd bought for when we didn't have cell service, and laughed. "We've been in five states today. Pretty good. Keep it up and we'll have visited every state by June."

"What the--?" Phoenix snorted, laughing. "You mean if we visit five states a day. Asshole."

I always giggled when he snorted and called me an asshole. "Hey, I'm just saying."

"Fucking dumb. Doesn't even work. You'd have to wake up in a different state than you fell asleep in." He caught my eye. The smile felt intimate, mutual. Born of sleepy exhaustion from a shared journey. I looked at the divot between his nose and upper lip.

I realized something. "Shit, I forgot to bring a blanket."

"Poor baby. You cold?"

"Hmm. I guess not really."

"Oh, you know what I do have..." He leaned towards me and reached toward the back seat. I watched his shirt stretch over his chest. Phoenix retrieved a big gray sweater. "Feel free to stretch it out."

My fingertips touched the back of his hands as I took the bundle. I did that on purpose. His skin was warmer than I expected, as skin always is. We tipped our seats back. Not the most comfortable, though the sweater would help, hopefully. I checked out Phoenix to see him on his side, looking at me and smiling. I let my own smile relax into me as I watched his eyes. His irises were a rich, beautiful brown. His skin was the color of cardboard in your childhood memories. I loved the way his smile wasn't symmetrical, wider on one side than the other. I carefully resisted scanning my gaze down his body. I actually saw his eyes flick down my form, instantaneously. His eyelids half-lowered, and then, horribly, what seemed to be a great tide of sadness overtook him. I watched him hold it back. I watched his smile mix with growing grief and fear, then bow to neutrality. He covered his gaze with his eyelids, breathed in, breathed out. "All right," he whispered, then opened his eyes. The gaze was gone. "Time to sleep." He sat up and turned off the light.

The sweater had a very particular, subtle smell to it. I guess it was his smell. I was desperately horny, yet blasted to pieces. A heady mix.

"I think I could fall in love with you, if things were a little different." He broke the silence, fifteen minutes later. "I probably would. But I'd cling to you like a fucking baby. And you're here, right?" He paused. For a response? I didn't give him one in time. "That's what I mean, codependent hell. I'd only be alive for you, and you'd only be alive for me, and then the second anything goes wrong we'd be right back here except I'd, fucking, direct all my shittiness at you... and you'd blame yourself."

I was quiet. "Ain't... ain't being codependent better than dying?"

"Hah! But that's what I'm saying, it doesn't change anything, it just leads us back here."

I fumbled for something. "Yeah but if it could... like stave it off..."

"Why is that good? The world is fucked, Acoatl, totally and truly fucked. Things don't get better from here, for me, for people. Should I beg? Stay here in misery out of some misplaced sense of morality? We're doing the only thing that makes sense."

I stayed quiet, not unconvinced. Sleep came, eventually, uncomfortably, anxiously.

- = -

The International Astronomical Union provisionally called it 8I/2034 Q1. I had to look that up. The eighth interstellar comet discovered, identified in 2034. I don't know what Q1 means. The name was briefly changed to 8I/Pasarati, for the research group that had discovered it, but by that time I34Q was clearly accelerating non-gravitationally and on an Earthbound trajectory. 8I/Pasarati is still in orbit, technically. You can see it through a telescope, it's like five miles across. But I34Q is the name for all of it, the craft that came to the surface, the life it brought with it, the structures it built, the war, all the consequences. No one can make any sense of it, except the one thing everyone knows: something else controls the world now.

- = -

I just barely remember waking up to switch seats in the morning, and then desiring nothing more than to return to sleep. Eventually Phoenix nudged me awake. "Hey." We were parked somewhere in Missouri. I'd slept all the way through the night and Phoenix's turn to drive. At least twelve hours, depending on when I actually fell asleep last night. I'd missed the big arch in St. Louis.

Phoenix was curt and reserved as I drove. I thought he was still thinking about last night, or angry at me for leaving him alone on his drive. Then he tilted his head back and began to gag. "My... heart..." Tears streamed down him face.

"Phoenix." I glanced back and forth between him and the road. There were abandoned cars on the shoulder; I couldn't pull over. "Phoenix, Phoenix, um."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, stop." He bent, heaved, and emitted a yowling, harsh retch. Nothing else left his mouth. "My heart..." He was breathing hard. A panic attack, I realized, stupidly too late.

"Do we have..." Panic attacks can be interrupted with certain intense sensations. The general goal is to increase awareness of the environment, focus the mind on the current moment rather than the future or past. Holding an ice cube can help. There were no ice cubes. I reached into the back seat for my water bottle, which would at least be cool. A truck behind us laid on the horn. I swerved back into my lane. "Sorry." Phoenix dry heaved again. It was a uniquely distressing sound.

I searched for the hazards, feeling useless. Far too much time passed before I found them and started slowing down. A different truck laid on a different horn. I was able to slip in a gap on the shoulder between an abandoned pickup and a rusting minivan.

I led Phoenix onto the tall grass beyond the asphalt, where he collapsed onto all fours. His torso flexed as he heaved. I put a hand on his back. "Phoenix, look at the trees." There were bushy, broken trees lining the sides of the highway, a vibrant green against the blue and white sky. "The, listen to the road." No, the road was stressing me the fuck out. "Listen to the grass waving, feel it." Stalks crumpled in his fists. I twisted my head and saw the tip of an I34Q tower peeking up over the treeline. "Look, a tower, just like when we were kids." Over the next few minutes, his breathing slowed, his heaving stopped. But the tears stayed. He sobbed away the panic. I read somewhere that tears actually contain different chemicals depending on the emotion causing them. Something to do with hormones I think.

He apologized to me. I would've done the same thing. I've done the same thing. So I got it, but felt indignant at having understood--he didn't need to apologize!

We got back on the road and listened to static on the radio. Sometimes the edge of a station would pass by, and we'd get fuzzy country, or christian rock. I changed it whenever there was a sermon. Sermons always come back to 4Q and they're always awful. The 4Q broadcasts are actually better than sermons about 4Q. They're kind of like static, anyway, totally unintelligible. We encountered more of them than I expected. Maybe static itself is a 4Q broadcast. I don't think that's right, I think static is like cosmic background radiation. But maybe 4Q has changed it somehow, like it used to be white noise and now it's blue noise, a different random distribution but still random.

"I'm off my meds," he said, as we rolled into darkness. The moon was a crescent, low on the western horizon. He spoke flatly and calmly. "I didn't even bring them with me. I thought you should know."

I hesitated. I wanted to voice this diplomatically. But then, we'd be dead in four days, anyway. "Is that why you had the attack?"

"No. I panic even on meds." That made sense. I remembered a few times in the past year when he'd canceled an event with little notice, or left early. "But I'm not a person right now, and that's definitely because I'm off my meds."

"You're not a person right now?"

"Yeah. It's called depersonalization. Also derealization, which is when nothing is real. Or that's how it feels, as I'm told. It's pretty freaky if I'm honest. You don't get the same emotional reaction from stuff. It feels like you're watching from somewhere else." He wasn't looking at me. He was looking down. "You're not you. You're not even real." He whispered. "Pretty freaky."

"Can I--do you--"

"Ahh, I'm coming out of it. Some of it is just recognizing that you're in it." He drew a knee up to his chest and shook his head. "Uhh, could you. Could you hold my hand. Touch helps."

I gripped the wheel with my left hand and held his palm with my right. It was warm and sweaty. I wish I could say that was okay. I felt miserable. I wanted to feel happy, holding his hand, comforting him. I didn't.

Sleep came quicker that night, though still uncomfortable, still anxious.

- = -

I slept late, again. I hadn't touched the chicken sandwich I'd gotten from a drive-thru last night. It had awful 4Q stuff on it anyway. I hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours, so I was pretty hungry, but I had no actual desire to eat. I'd deal with it later.

My own panic attack must've seemed similarly unbidden to Phoenix, though I felt it coming about an hour beforehand, and tried to stave it off. We were on I-80, driving through the hypnotizing flatness of Nebraska. Every ten or fifteen minutes I kept seeing this scarlet structure. It was like a giant, bloody caricature of a water tower, a skinny, triangular column maybe ten feet across and at least two hundred feet tall, supporting an enormous squashed sphere more than twice as wide as the column was tall. I'd watch it rise from the horizon, far too big. I'd never seen them before but guessed they must be 4Q. I started thinking we were somehow traveling in a loop, that my sense of direction was faulty and we were passing the same structure in the same field over and over again. Then I started thinking about how crazy that sounded. But I couldn't stop the thought.

I wanted to pull over but I couldn't stop anywhere in view of the structure, because it was watching me. Of course it wasn't, but I couldn't stop the thought that it was. Hell, maybe it was. Maybe only the mad can decode the purpose of I34Q stuff. I felt how hard I was breathing and glanced over at Phoenix, wondering why he hadn't said anything. He was staring down. He was probably disassociating again, I realized later, but at the time all I knew was that I was alone.

I get angry at myself after my attacks. I feel so stupid. Phoenix apologized to me that night, which made me feel even stupider. I couldn't wait to get to the Santitos digger.

- = -

The next day was bad. Quiet, lonely, and frustrated. A further reminder of the reasons. I saw patches of 4Q purple grass climbing up the Rockies. We both took long shifts and entered Redwood park just after midnight.

- = -

I read a story once about a man that was falling in the dark. He was falling so far that he would die instantly when he hit the ground. He realized that his brain wouldn't have time to process the impact, or even the few moments before. And he couldn't see the ground. He couldn't see anything. All that was left in the world was him and his death. I wondered if Phoenix had read the same story, and was hoping for a similar effect, coming here at night. Of course, we got it wrong. There were clouds, burgundy with light pollution, and every few minutes a star would gaze through; an unearthly glow was cast up from distant pieces of the digger.

Some parts of the digger looked like the towers, spinning and shifting. Some parts looked like exposed microelectronics, cables sutured to shiny terminals of minute complexity. Some parts were just made of asphalt blocks, cream-, gray-, and lime-colored pebbles tightly embedded in dark tar. Distant redwoods, many damaged by fire, ringed the horizon. The Santitos digger was less an object and more a place.

I felt wordlessly close to Phoenix as we scrambled over asphalt, looking for a pit. We touched each other frequently in our effort, to assist, to communicate. We'd have to give each other boosts, lift each other up, look for alternate routes. This place was not made for people.

Finally we came upon a deep canyon. I had half a mind to walk off the edge immediately. But both Phoenix and I stopped to regard it.

I couldn't tell if the rumors were true. You could only see maybe a hundred yards down before the walls of the abyss disappeared into ink. Or, not ink--not blackness, either. People are black. This was something else. The most prominent features were the semi-perceivable red blotches left on my optic nerve after gazing at one of the digger's glowing sectors. The unknowable told me nothing. It just revealed the flaws of my being. Maybe we would achieve our effect after all.

"This is it," I said, elliptically. The beginning is the end. If you take out the 'h' that phrase is a palindrome. "That was the first thing I said out of the door before I got into your car on Saturday. If you take out the 'h' the phrase is a palindrome. The beginning is the end. This is elliptical. This is it."

"That ain't it." He was regarding me coolly.

I laughed.

He was angry. "Are you fucking kidding me? The point of this thing, the whole fucking point is you do it in your right mind. You're letting your madness make the decision for you. You have to make the decision!"

I found that extremely funny. I laughed harder.

"Shut up! Fuck!"

"What's a right mind?" I asked, still grinning. "There's no such thing anymore. Even when it was a thing, all it meant was the most socially-acceptable, capital-promoting mind. Now? The world doesn't fit us anymore. The human condition is inconvenient to its purpose. 4Q can't even train us. The right mind is a dead one. You want a right mind, go ahead." I gestured at the abyss. That's what I did.

He stepped forward. He stepped forward. A foot hung above the end.

I don't know what I would've done if he had lowered that foot, changing his balance, tipping him forward. Jumping in after him wouldn't have felt right. Maybe I'd have gone back to those red eyes in Nebraska and begged for them to torture me. Maybe his idiosyncrasies would have been repelled by the unknowable, flowing away from his body and into me, and I'd be lost forever in a derealized paranoia. Maybe I'd have gotten in the car and driven back home.

His foot remained, hanging, the edge a gallows. "Suicide is about pain. It's the ultimate response to ongoing distress. I never wanted you to be normal. I just didn't want you to be in pain. In a twisted way, I guess I thought, if this was your way of dealing with pain, I wasn't going to stop you. That is your right. I feel like that has to be your right." His balance was incredible. He remained still, a tree without wind. "But you can be abnormal, you can be a bad fit for the world, you can be utterly broken, and you can still live without pain." We're both crying. Tears descend into the pit.

| ' , |

I do think madness is the right way to understand I34Q. I feel this mysteriously. I wonder what it would be like if I tried going to T-school while embracing my altered states, living in them. I suspect Phoenix would have more success, being more comfortable with unreality. Not that either of us would participate in whatever hegemony 4Q perpetuates. More that we'd figure out what it wanted, and how to resist. I've been thinking about this a lot. Maybe other people are, too. We need to find each other.

Phoenix and I wandered north. We found this incredible queer community in Oregon, with actual traditions and mechanisms to deal with communal trauma. I can't say anything about the world, the world is unknowable. But I think there's hope for us.

Phoenix and I are together, now, in a way I can't quite name. We did finally make love. That was beautiful. But we don't live together. I make love to other people, sometimes, and he does the same. Sometimes I'll go a week or two without seeing him, without notice. Sometimes I'll go a few days without even thinking about him. I love him, and I tell him that, and he says the same to me, though both of us have admitted that we don't know what that means.

We still panic. I still get paranoid. Phoenix disassociates. He's been using the state to make art. I think about I34Q and write down what I think. I'm pretty good at eating regularly, even if I don't feel like it. I don't know if we're living without pain. I think maybe that's a pretty tall order. But I don't want to kill myself anymore. So I think that's pretty good.

[Ed.: have this little treat. It takes me about the length of this playlist to read the story.]

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VD5lJJqNUJsITPj3Rg8Sn?si=d262096479104d4f

[gothic-safari-clown]

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part Ten

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine

Word count: 1247

"So he's here today?" Elianna asked Jonathan as they walked up the asylum steps on yet another grey morning in Gotham.

"I got an email last night after you fell asleep," he confirmed. "He's been put on my case list and everything." He stopped his friend with a hand on her arm in an empty part of the lobby before they reached the stairs. "I need to make sure that you're not going to get cold feet," his voice was hushed and intense.

"Not a chance. I want to do it. I want to see it." Jonathan's eyebrows raised slightly at her matched intensity.

"Okay," he nodded slowly. "Then we'll start next week," he said, removing his hand from her arm. El found herself surprised, but she didn't quite know why. She knew that they couldn't start right away, lest they draw suspicion, but still, a whole week of opportunity for Zsasz to escape again and come after her, the thought of which made it hard for El to stay excited about the plan.

"Well, that's fine, but I think I should stay with you until it's taken care of."

"I was thinking the same thing." He agreed as they resumed their way up to the second floor.

"I'll try my best to annoy you as little as possible." She bumped him with her shoulder, and he smiled a little.

"You know, having you around doesn't really bother me that much; I just like to keep you on your toes."

"Please, don't make me laugh." El rolled her eyes lightly. "Let's see if that's still the case next week."

"Don't, please, just take the compliment and leave it at that." The growing exasperation in his voice made her laugh.

"Ohhh, I see now, that was your best try at a compliment." Jonathan sighed heavily and gave her a look, to which she laughed. "Alright, I'm done. See you later." She said as they reached the top of the stairs. "Tell Scarecrow I say to behave until then." She wasn't even sure why she said it, as she didn't typically like to acknowledge the alter; the comment was met with a flash of amusement in his eyes and a genuine smile, not half of one, for a split second, before it was gone again as suddenly as it came.

"Can you give me a heads up before you mention him by name again?" Jonathan rubbed his forehead, looking mildly annoyed. "He's always trying to take over in public, and he really likes it when you talk about him." Oh.

"Yeah, of course, I just didn't realize he was so close under the surface," El explained apologetically, and Jonathan waved his hand as if to say it was alright.

"Don't worry about it. You didn't know," he said, suddenly tired. "See you tonight."

"Yeah, see you." El left a kiss on his cheek without thinking, and they split off their separate ways to their respective offices. A sudden arm linked through hers startled El for half a second before she looked and saw Harley.

"So what's going on between you two, huh?" The blonde asked suggestively, to which El laughed.

"Just friends. Good morning, by the way."

"Uh-huh, and whose choice was that?"

"Come on, Harley," El rolled her eyes. "Yes, I love him, but not like that. No." Harley gave her a look that said 'really?' with a raised eyebrow. "Why, you interested? I could put in a good word-" the deflection got the exact reaction that El had hoped for.

"No!" Quinzel smacked the redhead on the arm. "He's not my type, but you're gonna tell me you've never thought about it? I mean, you've got to admit, he's...attractive, isn't he? Stop laughing!" El did her best to stop, but it took a few seconds.

"Sorry, just...you're right, I can't argue with that, but he didn't use to be. But now...it's the eyes, I think, they're very intense."

"Yeah, that's what it is! That and the cheekbones, very sharp." The blonde was clearly fishing for more of a confession.

"I don't know, Harley. We've been friends since high school, you know? To me, he'll never be 'Doctor Crane,' he's just...Jonathan. I think anything from my side is just due to a positive association. We were there for each other right when it started mattering the most. But that doesn't mean that either of us wants anything to happen." Harley let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fine, but you'll still have to start fighting off other girls with a stick. I'm not the only one that thinks something is going on between you two, and some'a them are gettin' a little jealous." El laughed.

"I shall defend his honor valiantly; it'd be a first though."

"Not very popular with the cheerleaders?"

"Not even close." El shook her head and couldn't help remembering what had happened to Sherry Squires and Bo Griggs. God, how could I have forgotten? Counting Granny, Jonathan had already had three bodies under his belt before they even graduated high school. She really shouldn't have been surprised by the recent turn of events.

"Ya know, I gymnastics and cheer in high school. I only kept up with the gymnastics, though."

"Maybe that's why he doesn't like you," El teased and poked her new friend's nose.

"He doesn't like anyone. Except for you, I don't see why you wouldn't just give it a shot!" Elianna was starting to get annoyed with the conversation. She just doesn't give up, does she?

"Look, Harls, if you're that concerned with my romantic life, why don't you take up the case? We'd make a hot couple, don't you?"

"Without a doubt, gorgeous," Harley agreed with a grin and a wink. "Maybe I'll kiss ya later though; I gotta go."

"Alright, take care of yourself, babe," El laughed and patted Harley's hand as she withdrew her arm and headed off to wherever she needed to be. Once she was safely out of earshot, El let out a somewhat relieved sigh. If Jonathan could have heard that conversation, he would have been very uncomfortable. Even thinking about him like that felt disrespectful.

The first thing Elianna did once she was safely in her office was to double-check her patients for the day. First on the docket was Mr. Thomas, one of the inmates that Jonathan must have been using for his experiments. She had spoken to him twice before, and neither time had he shown any signs of misconduct in the facility.

Sure enough, their third conversation uncovered nothing of significance, neither about his mental state nor of Jonathan and his toxin. She was quickly learning what Jonathan had known for a long time: that fear was the best leverage. It was how his great-grandmother had kept him under her thumb for so long, and it was how he was keeping these test subjects quiet.

Fascinating.

The rest of the day, and then the week passed in the same way that Mr. Thomas's session did: slowly, nothing of significance. Arkham managed to avoid any trouble for an entire week, and while every passing day without incident from Zsasz (or anyone else for that matter) filled Elianna with relief, she found herself anticipating The Day more and more with every hour that passed, and it was almost driving her crazy. The anticipation did nothing to help the long week.

[stereogeekspodcast]

[Transcript] Season 2, Episode 5. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Review

The second Marvel Cinematic Universe spin-off streamed on Disney+, and we at Stereo Geeks had a lot of thoughts. In the Special, we give an episode-by-episode breakdown of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. What did we love about the story of the show, how were the characters developed, where did the show soar and when did it fall flat? Tune in to find out. Warning: spoilers ahead!

For a more detailed look at the show, check out Ron’s extensive recaps at Show Snob. You can also learn more about the show’s successes and failures with Mon’s features at Collider: Falcon and the Winter Soldier: How the Flag-Smashers Highlight Marvel's Problem with Sympathetic Villains The Falcon and the Winter Soldier: The Show's 13 Greatest Moments How The Falcon and the Winter Soldier's Bucky Barnes Is a Positive Representation of Expats Listen to the episode on Anchor.

[Continuum by Audionautix plays]

Ron: Welcome to a new Stereo Geeks Special! This week, we’re talking about The Falcon and the Winter Soldier! I'm Ron.

Mon: And I’m Mon. Please be warned, we will be covering all six episodes of the show, and yes, there will be spoilers. If you haven't watched the show yet, check it out and then come back.

Ron: So, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Thoughts?

Mon: Well, remember how we felt after Disney Investor Day, when the trailer came out? People were hyped. You and I were worried. We thought that some of the bro-y relationship stuff was a little bit manufactured. We were worried that Disney was, as always, trying to sell us something which they wouldn't deliver. I gotta say, they proved us wrong.

Ron: I was very tentative about the series, especially because we did really enjoy WandaVision. That show was quite different. It wasn't trying to be just an extension of the MCU. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier definitely feels grounded in the mythos of the MCU. The visuals are very similar. The musical motifs are exactly from the movies that we've already seen. I think the trailer made it look a particular way, which kind of put us on the backfoot. I'm glad that the show actually didn't follow through with that tone.

Mon: Yeah, me too. I think with the trailer, we were worried that there was going to be this 80s, macho vibe, and considering that neither of these characters so far, Sam Wilson/ the Falcon, and Bucky Barnes/ the Winter Soldier, they've been really great characters all this while in the MCU. Yes, they’ve been side-characters, they really haven't been developed that much, so I was a little bit worried that the moment they’d get the spotlight, we're going to see them out of character. Thankfully, we did not.

Ron: In fact, I was actually quite surprised that throughout the six episodes they refer to so many aspects of the films, and give us more insight into events that would have happened probably in the background, and I didn't expect that, in all honesty. So, shall we break it down episode by episode and review it that way?

So, we start off with ‘New World Order’. This opening episode takes place six months after the events of Avengers: Endgame. Steve is gone. The mantle of Captain America is kind of up in the air. Sam is actually trying to take care of family stuff and Bucky is in therapy. I think for a lot of fans, and for us, as well, it was like, at the end of Endgame when Steve handed the shield to Sam, even though Sam was a little bit tentative, he was going to become Captain America. For ‘New World Order’ to actually have him not do that, that quite a departure from expectation.

Mon: But I guess the name of the show itself kind of signposted that. We kept wondering why it's called The Falcon and the Winter Soldier and not Captain America and the Winter Soldier, and it explains that. Because Sam is just not comfortable adopting this moniker. I guess in a way you could say he's not comfortable with that because of his own identity. I think it was kind of just thrusted on him, and he's trying to get used to the fact that he doesn't even have Steve in his life, and now he has to step into Steve’s shoes; it's a lot for one person to take in. Also, he literally just came back to life. It's too much!

Ron: And also, I think the reason why it's a little bit more burdensome for Sam is because Steve Rogers/ Captain America would have been an icon when he was in the military, and it just so happens that he becomes his friend, but for Sam, Steve Rogers was Captain America. It didn't make sense for there to be a Captain America without Steve Rogers. But for us as fans, we were like, what? No! Sam, you have to be the new Captain America. It made sense to us but for him it didn't make sense. And I thought that was interesting. It was not what we're expecting, especially for Sam's growth throughout the MCU. He has become an Avenger!

But then, that ending. Apparently, a lot of people knew that John Walker was going to be in the show and Wyatt Russell was going to be playing him, and I was just like, what? Because I never remember any of these things, so everything is a surprise to me. So, you have this whole thing with Sam giving up the shield, and it being put in this beautiful glass case, and there's this whole Smithsonian exhibit for Steve. And you can feel, you know, there's a lot of emotion and stuff. And we get a scene with Rhodey, which is great. I mean, Don Cheadle, is awesome as Rhodey and it's always great to see him. He’s only in that one scene, though, and I was just like, why? And then we have this moment, when it's being announced that the government has chosen a new Captain America, and this white dude who looks like the guy from Up, turn’s up and he's holding Steve’s shield! That really was like a dagger to the heart. And I thought it was very well done.

Mon: I thought so too. Even though we knew US Agent was going to join the show, and that US agent is actually John Walker, and in the comics, he has taken on the moniker of Captain America. I feel like despite knowing all that, the way the scene plays out, it's still so heartbreaking because we're looking at it through Sam's eyes, and he has, out of the goodness of his own heart, relinquished the title of Captain America. He's relinquished this shield which belonged to his friend, and the government just took that as, oh, we can do whatever we want with it. It was just a really well played out scene, even though it was pretty wordless.

Ron: Yeah, and I think the reason why it works is because throughout the first episode, we are seeing the problems that Sam and his sister are having because they are a Black family in America. And that's not something that has been touched on in the MCU. It's kind of like just happening in the background, it doesn't seem to affect the actual heroes. And here we see that, a hero or not, they still have problems. They can't get a bank loan! And the guy, on the one hand is like, I want a selfie with the Falcon, on the other hand, he's like, oh, you don't have any records for the last five years. Yeah, but he's been dead for five years! How's he gonna show you anything? And with this really infuriating scene, obviously the ending just made everything worse because you're like, oh okay so this is how Black hero gets treated. And this white guy from nowhere just gets handed one of the most symbolic icons in the country. So, it's quite an interesting start.

Mon: Yeah, I have to say. And we haven't even talked about the amazing opening action sequence with the Falcon. It is breathtaking. It really captured that original feeling that we had when the Falcon first took flight in Captain America: The Winter Soldier. And the production values were fantastic. We knew this was gonna happen, but still.

Ron: I think what surprised me about that opening action scene was that this was not TV quality. I think it's pretty good that Marvel is actually pouring in that kind of money into its limited series, and TV shows. It's kind of sad that they're doing it now, when Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was on for seven seasons, we had all the Defenders shows, and they never got a look-see; they were always in the periphery, they were always on the outside. These are very intrinsically tied into the MCU and they've got a much bigger budget.

Mon: They’ve also got more eyeballs on them. I'm just saying.

Ron: Yeah, well, let's see what happens.

Mon: Yeah, totally. So, I think let's go into the second episode and we can talk a little bit more about Bucky, because his introduction into the show was a bit underwhelming and it sort of picks up from the second episode. So, ‘Star-Spangled Man’. This song, this title is synonymous with Steve Rogers. Not anymore! Because John Walker literally has this gigantic parade where they're singing an updated version of this song. And it's so dissociative, the entire experience of seeing somebody who is very obviously not Steve Rogers in the Captain America outfit, enjoying the crowd, greeting the crowd, and this song’s going on. I have to say, the showrunners do a really good job of tugging on that nostalgia that we have for the first Captain America film, while also hitting us in the gut with this realization that, yes, this is a new world order.

Ron: And it's so manipulative, right? The government obviously knows that the ‘Star-Spangled Man’ song was associated with Steve, and they've just taking that, and they're like, oh, it doesn't matter if there's a new person who's Captain America, the song still belongs to him. But Captain America was synonymous with Steve and has been all this while. And they’re going around just thrusting this person in our faces. And then you have that first interview with John Walker and he's trying to come across as really nice, and he's talking about how Steve feels like a spiritual brother to him. And Bucky’s face when he's watching that is so funny. [laughs] Because he's just sitting there on the floor, open-mouthed like, what is this guy talking about?

I feel kind of bad because John never stood a chance. From that first shot of him at the very end of the first episode, we hated him. Mainly because the shield belonged to Sam. The name ‘Captain America; belongs to Sam. But in the second episode, even when the show was trying to humanize him, we see his wife, we see his best friend Lemar, it doesn't matter. We’re still like, give us our shield back! And it just goes downhill from there.

Mon: Yeah, absolutely. The one good thing about John Walker taking on the mantle of Captain America is that Bucky and Sam are finally reunited. As we learn in the first episode, apparently Bucky has not been replying to Sam's texts. I think it's amazing that Sam is taking his role as Bucky’s friend and protector really, really seriously. Because, let's be honest, Sam hates Bucky.

Ron: And Sam rightfully has every reason to hate Bucky. The amount of trouble he caused Steve and Sam. And Steve could at least stay alive because he had the serum in him. Sam was just a normal guy! As he said, when people are shooting at Steve, Sam is usually in the way. And Bucky was the reason why people were shooting at them! These are the little things that I really loved because Steve mattered to both of them. Of course, Sam is going to be the bigger man and try and keep in touch with Bucky, despite what Bucky put him through. For Bucky to be the one who's like, no, I'm not gonna talk to this guy, I'm just like, saying what?

Those are the little things about Bucky’s characterization in the first episode that didn't quite work for me. I like the fact that he's in therapy. That's good. I like the fact that he's been given a pardon; he helped save the planet. But him ignoring the last vestige of Steve's connection to him just doesn't make sense.

Mon: I also think that the idea that Bucky would go back to square one just because Steve has left, it didn't sit right with me. He's living in Brooklyn, which is his hometown, but his apartment has no furniture. He only has a TV. I think he has a cell phone.

Ron: Yeah, he has a really old-fashioned cell phone, right?

Mon: Yeah. He goes to therapy, and he tries to make ‘amends’. As we find out later, he's not making amends. He's avenging his wrongs. It felt disingenuous to sort of write Bucky like he’s stuck in one place, not reaching out to the people who care about him. And they sort of tried to do this thing where the only way Bucky gets out of this funk is through some romantic entanglement. So, he goes out on a date with a waitress and then he abandons her halfway through. In contrast with Sam, who had so much depth in the first episode, I couldn't wait for episode 2 Bucky, because episode 1 Bucky was kind of badly written.

Ron: Yeah, he didn't work for me either. The moment he’s with Sam again in the second episode, things are much better. And I felt like it was a bit like Bucky doesn't work unless you have that direct MCU connection. Throughout the first episode, that's not really there. Like yes, we get a few flashbacks to the Winter Soldier and that sort of thing, but until he's with Sam, those other parts of Bucky’s life just don’t work.

Mon: Yeah, I was really happy when he confronted Sam in the second episode, and then that's it, they’re stuck together. After that, it really worked. They banter with each other, they do not get along, but they’re very good at working together. They're not a well-oiled machine, because as soon as the bad guys, the Flagsmashers get in their way, Bucky is totally stuck.

Ron: And they don't listen to each other. They go in different directions; they get into trouble. They have the added tension of John Walker and Lemar Hoskins turning up and actually doing a better job at fighting the Flagsmashers. Which is annoying, but also you kinda understand it because John and Lemar are good at fighting together. They've been fighting together for years. They're best friends. The reason why Steve and Bucky fought well together, Steve and Sam fought well together, is because he was best friends with both of them. Sam and Bucky? Disaster. And they end up losing that fight.

Mon: Yeah. With the second episode, again we’re sort of treading on eggshells with these two characters. But them being together and that chemistry between the two of them, it really works to get us interested in this show.

Ron: And the fact that the two of them have a common enemy, they both dislike John Walker, so that kind of ends up giving them a reason to bond. Because otherwise, I don't think they would have had a reason to actually speak to each other. And from then on, it becomes a lot smoother. And of course, by the end of ‘Star-Spangled Man’, we get another MCU character, Zemo. As far as I'm concerned, from all the MCU villains, Zemo was the only one who succeeded. It was definitely exciting to have Zemo back and we got to see a lot more of him in the third episode, ‘Power Broker’.

The prison breakout was unexpectedly funny, especially because Bucky is kind of standing there telling Sam, hypothetically, if Zemo were to break out, this is how it would happen, and then he's actually made sure that Zemo did break out. And you’re like, why would you do that? We understand, Zemo hates super soldiers. He also knows a lot about super soldiers. The Flagsmashers are super soldiers. Ergo, we need Zemo’s help. But also, Zemo was the reason why the Avengers broke up. That man should stay in jail. But that dynamic between Zemo, Sam, and Bucky, I did not see that coming!

Mon: Same. I was definitely surprised but it really worked. Recasting Zemo as this rich Baron kind of made sense. Because he's not just rich, he is very cultured, he's very smart, he's very intelligent, in every scene that you see him, he's always the smartest guy in the room. Which is kind of annoying because he's the villain. He's also the kind of person who did really bad things because he was in a very bad place, and he had the facility to do it. I don't think at any point the writing makes us think that we can forgive this man. However, he is a means to an end, which is something that Bucky reiterates later on as well, but he's also really a fun character to hang out with, and he's really charming. They were really smart in bringing Zemo back and using him kinda as a plot device but also to bring some much needed levity to the show.

Ron: What I also liked about him being Baron Zemo in the show was that it retroactively explained how he managed to do everything that he did in Civil War. Because Zemo spends two years tracking Bucky, keeping an eye on the Avengers, and there's no way he could have done that if he didn't have money. I remember when we were watching it, we were like, how has he been able to do all this? Like he's traveling around the world, he's learning these languages. How's it possible for somebody who's just an ordinary person to have saved up that much money? So, now it makes sense. But it doesn't take away the fact that when the battle in Sokovia happened, he did lose his family, so his need for vengeance kind of made sense. It's just that at the end of it the Avengers did break up. And Thanos would not have won had Zemo not won.

Mon: Right. This is so true. We're definitely always going to fight Zemo’s corner, because way too many people ignore the fact that he was a very successful, very smart, villain.

Ron: I think among the fans who love villains like Loki. I mean, Loki is great. We love that character, of course. But you don't need to be as grandiose or as flamboyant as Loki to make a difference. Zemo was very quiet about it. He was just an ordinary guy. That's why he was successful. You don't think that a regular guy is going to be able to break up the Avengers. But he was meticulous about it. He was very determined. And he got what he wanted. So, it’s interesting after all that to see him back here and Bucky springs him from jail. And you can never trust him, but he also doesn't do anything terrible.

Mon: Yeah, I mean, he shoots one scientist because he's the only person who knows how to make super-soldier serum, which I completely understand, because Zemo really hates super soldiers, so of course, he wants to make sure that there is no possibility of anybody making the serum after the scientist. In general, it seemed like throughout the course of this episode, every time Zemo had a chance to escape, he didn't. He always came back. Of course, it's a good thing he did because otherwise we would never have been introduced to MCU Madripoor, which has got to be everybody's favorite MCU destination now.

Ron: Madripoor has a long history in the Marvel Comics. It’s usually associated with the X-Men. So, a lot of people were excited thinking that this means that the X-Men will be coming. Now, both WandaVision and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier have kinda hinted at the X-Men somewhere. But they still don't have definitive proof. On the one hand, people are like, we've had so many X-Men movies, and so many of them sucked. Maybe, just let it go. On the other hand, we don't want the MCU to be like, we’ll dip into the X-Men pot, just take some of those stories, those locations, those characters. But let's not actually do anything with the X-Men. I hope that they don't do that. Maybe they are paving the path for the X-Men’s final arrival into the MCU.

Mon: I think the Marvel executives are going to be really smart about how they use the X-Men, and how they introduce the X-Men. Because they have this 20-year knowledge of where the X-Men went right, where they went wrong. They are sussing out the fan reaction. They already have the phase four slate for the MCU. They already have Fantastic Four lined up. They're not gonna thrust the X-Men on us. Not so fast. They're gonna wait for an opening. So, I know, we’re all excited, but what they’re doing right now is that they're giving us a feel of the Marvel Comic universe through these screen properties, but they're eking it out. I think they're being really smart.

Ron: Yeah, I guess so. I think the Madripoor setting was really exciting. However, I was really disappointed that Marvel went the same route as so many properties before it and had this extremely Southeast-Asian aesthetic, and there was not a single Southeast-Asian person in sight in Madripoor. Now, this has been a problem for a really long time, from Blade Runner to Firefly—euggh—in 2021, to have a Marvel property do that, that was really frustrating. I know a lot of people are upset. Whenever we do return to Madripoor, hopefully they will have more people who are actually from Southeast-Asia.

Otherwise, the setting was really exciting. It was quite different from what we've seen in the MCU. It was quite rugged and a bit scary, a bit quirky. That drink that Sam had to drink. Very brave of him. But Zemo was completely in his element over there, and that was an interesting sight to see, because he wasn't really in charge on all this while. But yeah, the outfits? Hilarious.

Mon: What I liked about it is that Zemo’s in charge, but he sort of knows when to defer to both Sam and Bucky. But also, the way Sam and Bucky fall in line with what Zemo is doing because this is his area of expertise. Sam is dressed in this flamboyant outfit because he's pretending to be some other guy, the Smiling Tiger. [laughs] As Sam says, even his name sucks. He's apparently wearing heels, which is really hilarious. I really wish we'd been able to see how high his heels were because he can't run in them. And Bucky he has to pretend to be the Winter Soldier again and a Winter Soldier who is working for Zemo. I just really like the entire feel of it because it's really quite uncomfortable knowing that Zemo’s they guy in charge, and Sam and Bucky are quite helpless. But you also know that Zemo can't really push his boundaries too much because he's at their mercy, too. So, this amazing little dynamic between these three characters really brought this entire episode to life. There was so much hype after this episode because people were kind of in love with the whole aesthetic, and the whole feel of it, which we haven't really had in the MCU that much. There's an intensity but also a levity. They really played it well.

And then of course, we finally meet Sharon Carter, who's been on the run, and is now living in Madripoor. She's kind of exiled there, her family don't know where she is. But she still helps Sam and Bucky, which is great. We see her living in Hightown. She's living it up. She's got all these art pieces which she's selling to her ‘buyers’. Of course, we find out so much more about Sharon later on.

She gets this awesome action sequence. And I have to say, it is such a surprise. When Sharon leads the three guys to meet the scientist who has the super-soldier serum, she's the only one on the outside, and there are goons after goons coming at her. And she is just knocking them dead. She's pretty brutal, which is kind of scary, because we have not seen that level of brutality in the MCU proper. We're not talking about the Netflix stuff which has its moment. She's very obviously shooting people and really harming them. But it was impressive to see a female character hold her own. She wasn't suddenly rescued by anyone. She wasn't asking for any help. She's just a one-person army; it was really impressive.

Ron: I think the reason why the fight scene also stood out was because Sharon really hasn't had that much to do in the MCU. She's been kind of pigeonholed into the love interest, who helps out, and it also shows us how much she's changed. The Sharon Carter that we see in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is a different person from who she was in Winter Soldier, in Civil War. And she's hurting. She didn't get the pardons, the life that Sam and Bucky got. Winter Soldier, who changed the course of history, he gets a pardon. Sharon Carter, who was helped Steve Rogers help Bucky, no pardon.

Mon: Forgotten! Even worse! So, it really does make us wonder what these guys were all doing. Can we say the Avengers were just so depressed, so grief-stricken themselves that they forgot about the other people? Whoever wasn't in their vicinity in Wakanda was just forgotten? That’s the only thing I can think of. Like, why would Steve forget Peggy Carter's niece, his friend, maybe love-interest, who knows, why would you forget her? I mean the only thing I can think of is that Steve saw Bucky die, he didn't even see Sam die, he could, of course, assume that, and then that's it. He was just like okay, we lost, and he was just broken after that. That’s my only thought.

Ron: I can't really think of anything else as a reason. From what we saw in Endgame, it seemed like the Avengers kind of closed ranks and focused on the big problems, the major issues. Even with Ronin, Clint Barton was just going around the world decimating these cartels and Yakuza or whatever, and that was going on for a while. And it was only when they needed Clint to come in that they actually went to look for him. Until then, it was just like, oh, this is a problem. Should you be doing something about it? He's an Avenger who's killing people who had nothing to do with what's going on in the world. So, I feel like a lot of people did get left behind, and Sharon Carter, unfortunately, was one of them.

Mon: Yeah, it’s really disappointing.

Ron: So, I guess it's not surprising though that her trajectory ends up the way it does in this show.

Mon: Yeah, I agree with you.

Ron: We don't actually get to see much of that. And in ‘Power Broker’ it's not even mentioned. You don't even realize that there's something off about Sharon, you just feel bad. And Sam and Bucky also feel bad. Sam immediately says, I can do something, I can fix this. And that's great, because that's his immediate reaction. Most of this episode is just a little bit of fun, really.

Mon: Yeah, I will say that this episode is probably a favorite among a lot of people because it is just so much fun. I would say that it's probably the one with the most glaring writing issues. Because Bucky explaining to Sam how he broke Zemo out is very clever, but where did Bucky have the time to plant all the keys and the clues for Zemo to get out? Where was the time? There's also a lot of other small things. Things like Sam saying, oh, it happens in every action movie. Sam wouldn't need to say that because he was literally a soldier. So was Bucky. So was Sharon. While that's a really fun scene, and an extremely fun dialogue, it just doesn't make sense in the context of these characters. So yeah, there's just a few little things here and there but honestly, it's such a fun episode that you won't even notice it.

Ron: Yeah, I'm actually surprised that Zemo of all people bring so much levity to the show, because he was downright scary in Civil War. So, this is really, really unexpected but also extremely enjoyable.

Mon: And I like that Daniel Brühl doesn't play him all hamfisted. He's not trying to be a caricature or he's not trying to be a comedic character, he's just playing Zemo as Zemo. It's just that the reactions of Zemo, and the reactions to Zemo, are what bring the levity, so that way, the combination of the writing, directing, and the performances really works.

Ron: So then we move on to Episode 4.

Mon: Quite a sea change, right, from Episode 3?

Ron: For the most part, ‘The Whole World is Watching’ kind of follows the similar levity, the tone, of the previous episode. We got to the Dora Milaje, which is really exciting because we weren't expecting any of the Wakandan references in The Falcon and Winter Soldier. And it was great that from the second episode, Bucky was talking about being in Wakanda. He tells Sam that his name is actually White Wolf, and Sam is actually surprised because he's like, ‘wait what, they named you something?’ And then we get to see Ayo. And she's not happy.

I like the fact that there's an immediate connection with the events of Civil War. King T’Chaka was extremely important, he was king of Wakanda for so long. And the way he was taken from them was so arbitrary. And, of course, Zemo was at fault. But it's kind of part of the reason why you see in Black Panther that T’Challa doesn't really want to be going out there, because look what happened when they outside, right? But of course, everything with Killmonger makes him realize that outside Wakanda’s walls is a world that needs their resources. And we see a little bit of that here, with Ayo coming to meet Bucky and actually speaking to him about handing Zemo over.

What I really like is that Bucky and Ayo have the kind of relationship where Bucky can say, ‘I need this guy, he's a means to an end. Give me a little bit more time, then you can have him’. And Ayo is like, ‘Okay, I understand where you're coming from. You’re the White Wolf. You've been in Wakanda, we've seen what you went through, I can give you this time. But then after that, you have to stick to that deadline’. I love that Bucky’s connection with Wakanda is kind of explored in the show, because he was there for a long time, and they made such a difference to his life. They deconditioned him.

Mon: I felt like the level of trust between Ayo and Bucky was quite obvious between the two characters. And also the fact that they've obviously had a kind of professional connection for a long time in Wakanda. Ayo is a very strong warrior. After Okoye, there's probably nobody better. So, it seems like the Wakandans had placed a lot of emphasis on Ayo keeping an eye on Bucky when he was deconditioning. So, as you see in the beginning of this episode, she's the one who is there for the last test to make sure that, yes, the programming is gone. Because if the programming wasn't, then Ayo would at least be able to fight off the Winter Soldier. So, I really like that beginning, and the fact that that's not the only time we see the Dora Milaje. They come back later, so that's good.

This episode is a lot slower in pace. It feels kind of like a filler episode, because a lot of it could have been part of the previous and the next episodes, but it wasn't.

Again, Zemo he feels like the smartest guy in the room, but you get the feeling that with Sam and Bucky they're getting a bit tetchy now. They feel a bit close to the prize, they have a deadline looming and Zemo is just antagonizing them. One of my biggest issues with this episode was that Bucky and Sam don't obviously use their brains too much. They just go headfirst into stuff, whereas Zemo, he very calmly and coolly gets information because he's using his brains.

Ron: Clearly Steve Rogers was 90% of their impulse control.

Mon: Sure seems like it, because when they go into the refugee camp, looking for Karli Morgenthau, who is the primary antagonist of the series, they just go in there asking. Everybody knows who Sam Wilson is, everybody knows who Bucky Barnes is. Nobody is going to answer your questions. It's Zemo who gets the answers they're looking for. I think it’s really frustrating when you watch them doing silly things like that, because you're like, ‘they're smarter than that, surely’.

Ron: I could still maybe excuse Bucky, because he hasn't been Bucky in a long time. He's really just has been pulled into fights. But Sam has had to be tactical, so for him to kind of just go in there and try and ask questions, it doesn't make sense, because Sam is very sympathetic person, and he wants to understand why Karli is doing the things that she's doing. It just doesn't make sense the way they went about it in this episode.

Mon: That's true. I like the fact that Sam kind of tries his level best to see the best in Karli. When he finally talks to her, he tries to engage with her, but then again, there's this moment in there when John Walker and Lemar Hoskins, sort of barge in and interrupt Karli and Sam. And you're like, ‘but Bucky was standing in the doorway, stopping them. What happened? Like how did these two normal humans with one shield between them, push through a metal-armed supersoldier. It doesn't make sense sometimes.

Ron: It felt like there was a moment that wasn't shown to us. And I don't know why they would have done that because it does leave you with a lot of questions.

Mon: Yeah, it's like, did they convince Bucky that Sam was in danger? Did they convince Bucky that Sam was stupid? [Laughs] Like what like what did they do? Or did they do the whole Marty McFly thing?

Ron [Laughs]: And why would Bucky fall for that?

Mon: So, it really makes me wonder about some of the writing moments in this entire series.

I feel like this episode was going one way, and then suddenly Lemar Hoskins is killed, and the entire tone changes. Because not only is Lemar killed, and you really feel for John because Lemar is basically John's Bucky. Right? I mean if John was Steve Rogers that's exactly how we would have viewed the whole thing. And we know the kind of lengths that Steve has gone to, to save Bucky—in all three films. So, you see this, but then John just takes it a whole new level. And them sort of showing you how he kills this innocent Flag-Smasher—the same Flag-Smasher who earlier had said that he had looked up to Captain America—and now he's being killed by Captain America, the poetic irony of that is so horrible. And the fact that John is ruthless.

A lot of this episode is also about the parallels between John and Sam. So, where Sam is immediately not interested in the supersoldier serum, John, on the other hand, has a conversation with Lemar and then decides to take it.

Ron: But you can see from the very beginning that he's tempted by it. And then when he has that dust up with the Dora Milaje, who are just trained soldiers, they don't have any serum running through their blood, but they make chutney out of him. And he's shocked that these people just easily took him and Lemar down. That's when he really started thinking that there is no way that he can continue being Captain America if he doesn't have something extra.

Mon: Yeah, and I think that they didn't build up the fact that there is insecurity in John Walker. There are a few scenes where he's talking about he's not sure about this. He seems to be suggesting that some of that medals that he earned, he’s not proud of them, because of the actions that he took. We never are privy to what those were, and we don't need to be. We understand that these are burdens that weigh heavily on this man. But I feel like his relationship with the supersoldier serum, his relationship with the icon that is Captain America could have been built out more.

Ron: Yeah.

Mon: Just so that we understood this character as more than the guy who stole Steve’s shield.

Ron: In the first two episodes, it seemed like he was just an ordinary soldier who's very happy to be defending the world as Captain America. You get these moments where he's trying to push his boundaries with people, especially with Bucky and Sam. He wants to be Captain America, and he wants, other people to fall in line with him. When Bucky and Sam don't do that then he's just like, ‘then don't get in my way’. It's very Black and white with him. Those moments happen fairly often, but in ‘The Whole World is Watching’ it felt like there was a lot more to him than just that. The way he's vacillating between whether he should continue letting Sam speak to Karli, or whether he should actually go in there and arrest her—he's so restless. He can't stand still, he's getting more and more agitated. These are not the reactions of somebody who should be getting the shield. But we don't really know why that is. And then once he gets the serum, and you see him kill the Flag-Smasher, you get the inkling that, okay, this man maybe should not have been given the all clear in his psych eval.

Mon: That's completely correct because when we start off the fifth Episode, ‘Truth’, we begin to realize that this is true. The truth is that he probably did not pass his psyche eval. By the way that John is trying to convince himself that, yes, he was in the right for killing this innocent Flag-Smasher, it's just frightening because that man, while he was dying was literally saying, ‘I'm innocent. I didn't do it’, and here's John standing there on his own, saying, ‘no, no, I was completely right, you know, he had to die’.

Ron: It's like he's convinced himself. And later on, in ‘Truth’, when he actually goes to speak to Lemar’s parents, they're obviously very very upset. They know John. These boys have most likely grown up together, because the parents, they are so loving towards John. And then they're like ‘the person you killed, he's the one who did this to our son?’ And John says ‘yes’. And I was just like, ‘did you just lie to these parents?’ I mean, on the one hand, you're like, what's he gonna say, he can't possibly tell them, ‘No I killed some other random dude and the actual person who killed your son, she's still out there.’ That's not what you want to tell grieving parents. But on the other hand, bare-facedly lying to people in grief, people who love you. I was just like, ‘wow this guy's off the deep end’.

Mon: Yeah, the fight scene that ensues right after the killing of the Flag-Smasher, is another reminder that this guy is not to be trifled with. Because he doesn't seem to have a moral code. His aim in life is to prove that he is Captain America. And I think that's the biggest problem with John. It parallels Sam's own reservations, right? He was stepping into somebody else's shoes. He was carrying somebody else’s shield. Hence, he was the better man who decided against picking up that mantle, because it didn't feel like it was his. John's been given this, and he was big-headed enough to believe that he deserved it. And we seem to see that there is a reason why these two characters are at opposing ends, and why one seems to deserve the shield over the other.

Ron: I would have liked to get some inkling of who John Walker was before Captain America came anyway near him. Because, especially in ‘Truth’, the way he keeps insisting, ‘I am Captain America’, it's almost like he's convincing himself, because maybe somewhere in the recesses of his mind he's realized what he just did, that's not the Captain America thing to do.

And of course, in the middle of it all, grief is in the mix. Lemar, obviously, was a huge part of his existence, and for him to die like that, it’s affected him. But him having taken the supersoldier serum, it's messed up a lot of what is already wrong with him.

What we know is that he did what he had to do as a soldier. He didn't like it, those acts have weighed very heavily on his mind, which is again making me wonder, how did he get chosen to be Captain America? Because this is not a man who sleeps soundly at night.

Watching the events of ‘The Whole World is Watching’ and the aftermath in ‘Truth’, you can see why Steve decided not to give Bucky the shield. He chose Sam, because from what we see in The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, John is as messed up as Bucky. But the government decided to give him the shield, and this is what's happened.

Mon: Bucky literally says in ‘The Whole World is Watching’ that John is crazy, and he knows that because he is crazy.

Ron: Exactly. And there are now dead people.

Mon: Exactly. And one of the things that Sebastian Stan mentioned about Bucky, in the first film Captain America: The First Avenger, is that in his reading of Bucky, in some of the comic runs, he felt like Steve was the good guy, the morally high ground kind of guy. So, some of the dirty deeds were actually done by Bucky. So, as we see in Captain America: The First Avenger, Steve's going around knocking people with his shield, but Bucky’s the one with the sniper rifle. Bucky’s doing the dirty deeds, saving Captain America from that. The reason is that Captain America has clean hands. With John, he's already come in with dirty hands, and the adage that to be Captain America, you have to be a good man, everything you know about Sam Wilson tells us that he is one.

What we know of Sam, when he was part of the Project Falcon, is that he wasn't going around shooting people. For John and Bucky, will have the parallel that they were already killers. Bucky was a killer before he became the Winter Soldier.

Ron; Which is probably why he was such a good Winter Soldier.

Mon: That’s probably true. With ‘Truth’, all these truths come out and it's just so disturbing. Especially in the first fight scene when Sam and Bucky, who have been fighting for the shield, are literally at the receiving end of it. That fight scene was very reminiscent of the fight between Bucky, Steve and Tony in Captain America: Civil War. But, wow, this one is so brutal, like you can feel those punches.

Ron: I liked what they were doing here because you immediately know that in Civil War, those three were holding back because Steve and Tony were friends, Bucky knew that they were friends, so nobody was actually trying to murder each other. Here, it's not like that. Bucky and Sam are trying to protect each other, but John is trying to save his own bacon. He does not want his shield to be taken away, he does not want to lose being Captain America. And the way he fights for it, as you said, It's brutal.

Mon: Yeah.

Ron: He's not afraid to hurt these two.

Mon: Bucky can at least take it because he's a supersoldier. But poor Sam!

Ron: My gosh that poor land, he does get a beating, doesn't he?

Mon: Yeah. And he keeps getting back up, and he’s so deft with his wings, he uses them to perfection.

Ron: We haven't actually seen that kind of wing fighting in the MCU. He usually used his wings just to fly about. But the wings over here, they work so brilliantly. And the fact that he can get hit and still keep coming back. I thought that was really commendable, because he's just an ordinary guy. And even after that, he still doesn't want the serum.

One of the other aspects of the shield that, well, you probably didn't have to talk about it that much, but it was implied, is that the shield is the last remaining part of Steve Roger. So for Sam and Bucky, the shield is kind of sentimental in a way. And after John kills the Flag-Smasher with the shield, it’s the first time we see blood on the shield, and that's quite a striking and kind of a gory image.

What I liked in ‘Truth’ was that once Sam and Bucky, after having been beat down so many times and finally Sam's got the shield back; you see him kind of wiping the blood off the shield. That was such a touching moment. I like those bits.

Mon: That fight scene was really good because not only was it beautifully choreographed, but it really worked hard to develop character. And I think it's so hard because we do watch the shows and these films for the action, but sometimes the action just feels overlong and gratuitous. But this one, this particular fight scene, it did a lot to tell us so much about these characters. And I really appreciated the fact that even though we’re on the penultimate episode of the series, they were working hard to tell us something new about these people.

Ron: Yeah. So you have all these things happening and they kind of just have to give up. And there’s this really nice long sequence when they're in Louisiana. Then the tone completely changes with Sam going back to Louisiana to sister, and the two of them trying to fix the boat and then Bucky turns up, and you're like, ‘why are you here?’ I don't want to hang out together, but they do hang out together. And they're fixing the boat and you need those kinds of interludes. With the Marvel films, you don't have the time for that. You only really have two hours for the story and action. With a TV series you’ve got that time. It's basically a six-hour long movie so you've got a lot of time for that character building. And it's kind of sweet to see Sam and Bucky just trying to get closer to each other, but also accepting the fact that the reason why they’re connected is gone. So, it works.

You also get this very long montage of Sam learning how to use the shield. And you see him training and stuff, not all of it worked for me.

Mon: Oh really?

Ron: Yeah because, why do we need to see Sam training? He’s a soldier. He's already well-built, it makes sense to see him train with the shield because it's Vibranium, it's not made to be caught by a normal person. So it does take him a bit of practice, but him doing, you know, the whole Rockymontage sequence, it didn't quite make sense. Because he’s already there. It's just that this one specific skill he needs to work on. But by the end of it you know what's going to happen. We just don't know how it's going to happen.

So then we go into the finale, ‘One Word One People’. And that's the motto of the Flag-Smashers. I guess they're a Marvel villain. I'm actually surprised that in the six episodes they weren’t as well constructed as they should have been.

Karli Morgenthau is a villain ™. There's no reason why she should be. The Flag-Smashers’ goal is to bring the world together without boundaries, as it was during the days the Blip. And for that reason they're bad people? And the show kind of makes it so that we feel like that because Karli randomly blows up people. And yes, these are strategic targets, but the victims are just ordinary people just doing their jobs. And there's no reason why she has to do it. I think that with the Flag-Smashers the show really struggled. And I would say, it kind of failed.

Mon: Especially in the final episode, it seemed like the showrunners just want to double down on the fact that the Flag-Smashers are bad, you shouldn't be rooting for them. I think we were really let down by those characters, and their entire arc. They sort of all died and then that was it.

Ron: Yeah, especially because, think of the optics. You have Karli Morgenthau, who’s played by Erin Kellyman, who’s a biracial Black woman, and she's the bad guy? And she's the bad guy for wanting to bring the world together. It just doesn't look right. And had we had a bit more time to understand them, maybe we could have felt something, but you're just like, ‘why are you telling me how to feel about these people?’ And it really did feel like that.

Mon: Because Sam believes in her and believes that she's got good in her, but nothing she does seems that way. Aside from the first episode where they were seemingly ferrying vaccines to refugee camps. After that she really went downhill.

Ron: It was 0-100.

Mon: Yeah. Again, with Marvel villains, it's always like that.

Ron: And it doesn't make sense for this particular group to be like that, which was frustrating.

Mon: I felt like, with Karli, maybe if she'd had more screen time or some better writing, if we had understood her anger along with her goal and her mission. It’s just that she kept telling us that these people are terrible, these things that they're doing are terrible, we just didn't have enough background or context for why she's feeling this way, and why she's feeling such animosity that she's going around killing innocent people.

Ron: Yeah.

Mon: In that sense I would say the finale fell flat.

Ron: Yeah, I mean the rest of the action was fantastic, absolutely brilliant. Sam, having the Falcon wings, and the shield and fighting with both of them, it looked so good. We haven't seen action like that. I don't know how they shot it, but it looked really great.

Mon: And his costume is so close to the comic book, and it works.

Ron: Yeah.

Mon: It really works. I kind of wish we'd seen Sam and Bucky fighting together. That was the only thing I really really missed because Bucky goes off on his own, and after some time he is working with US Agent, well John Walker, before he’s US Agent. But Sam's off on his own for the most part. And while he's really smart, and he's really good as Captain America, I just wanted to see them fight side by side.

Ron: Yeah, that would have been nice. And Sharon Carter kind of comes in, but she doesn't really do much. And you're like, ‘why is she holding back?’ Then we find out that she's actually the Power Broker. There were rumors from like two, three episodes ago that she might be. I don't know how to feel about this. On the one hand, I get it. She's upset. She has been abandoned, she's lost everything she knew. Of course, she's going to do whatever she can to get some power. On the other hand, really?

Mon: It doesn't sit right with me.

Ron: It seems really unfair to Sharon Carter.

Mon: Yeah. There are so few women characters in the MCU, as it is, and you've got one good person, Sharon, she's a bad guy?

And also, we don't know the depths that the Power Broker has gone to, we don't know how powerful the Power Broker is. So, it's hard to gauge, just how scared we should be of Sharon's transformation.

Ron: With Sharon and whatever trajectory she's on and Karli, having been killed. I wonder why there's this dichotomy between who gets redemption and who doesn't. The Winter Soldier really did mess up a lot of things. But somehow, Bucky is getting to live a life. And by the end of the series, he's pretty much with the Wilsons now, he's part of the family. But Karli has to have died.

Mon: Well, the only difference between Karli and the Winter Soldier is that Bucky didn't have much of a choice in what he did as the Winter Soldier. So, in that case, he can be forgiven. He was literally brainwashed, he did not have any control over it, so I can understand that dichotomy, that's fine. But I just don't understand the evolution of Sharon. Because Karli I felt like they really wanted us to care about this character but they never wrote her as someone we should care about. But Sharon, she's a comic book character who we all are familiar with. She's always been Captain America's girlfriend. And she's been on the right side of Marvel comic books. So, for her to evolve into somebody who could potentially be a huge threat, that's the only worrying part. And we will be seeing her again?

Ron: Well, apparently, there's going to be a second season for the show. Captain America 4 is also happening with Anthony Mackie as Captain America. I don't know whether we will see the character from this show turn up in the movie, but the second season, we could see more of Sharon Carter, maybe even more of Zemo, and the Countess, played by Julia Louis-Dreyfuss, which was a surprise I guess?

I don't know, people were making like a big deal about it, and I was just like, ‘why wouldn't you be in a Marvel role?’ Her kids are probably really excited about it?

Mon: I feel like that part of it is going to be interesting, but it's never going to be the compelling pull for me, because for me, I just want to see Sam and Bucky being Sam and Bucky. I want to see them evolving and growing and just hanging out together. Action, fight scenes that's what we got this season. We saw Sam grow; we saw Bucky grow. We saw them come together; come closer. I just really like that.

And in the end when the title card changes from The Falcon and The Winter Soldier to Captain America and The Winter Soldier, I was squealing with glee.

Ron: Yeah, and that's what we were wondering from the beginning of the show right? Why isn't it Captain America and The Winter Soldier, well, now we know why.

I still don't know why he still the Winter Soldier, though? Is he gonna reclaim that name? Maybe, who knows?

But yeah, this show was interesting because it gives us more of two characters who we do care about who haven't had the opportunity to grow in the films. So yes, they needed this platform. But the other characters like John, now he’s US Agent, how come he's not in prison, I still don't know. But for some reason he's out there. Sharon, really, I just don't understand why they've had to go in to make her a bad guy mode.

The character I am excited for is Joaquin Torres, played by Danny Ramirez. Joaquin is from the comics. He's Falcon in the comics. His design in the comics that I've read are kinda creepy.

Mon: Oh!

Ron: Yeah, because he's an actual like part Falcon.

Mon: Ugh, I really hope he doesn't turn into a part Falcon.

Ron: I hope they don't go with that design either. But we did see him kind of get the suit from Sam, so maybe he will become Falcon. I do love him geeking out over Sam from the very first episode. It's very sweet, and it's a really nice way to introduce a character.

We haven't been able to talk about Isaiah Bradley, played by Carl Lumbly. Isaiah Bradley is a character from the comics.

Mon: So, Isaiah was introduced in a limited comic run, where he was part of a regiment of Black soldiers who were experimented on. And when the government decided to abandon them, he stole the Captain America suit and tried to save them. And for his efforts, he was unfortunately imprisoned and experimented on even more. His story in the TV show is a little bit different. In fact, the way they've written his character and his actions, parallel Steve's. It’s exactly the way he tried to save Bucky and his regiment. It's really heartbreaking, especially because we know about the Tuskegee Airmen who were also kind of forgotten by history, and a lot of Isaiah’s story is based on those forgotten heroes.

I am so glad that after that little snippet that we saw in the second episode, he did come back and his story was expanded on and Sam’s connection with Isaiah was also expanded. And that was really good because I was a little bit confused initially as Bucky he knew him, and he dragged Sam there and Isaiah was really upset. He seemed to be agitated at the sight of Bucky. I was thinking like, ‘what is Bucky doing?’ But the last two episodes where Sam meets Isaiah, I feel like he was able to form a sort of bond with him. And in the final episode he really seemed to thaw that cold heart of his.

Ron: Yeah, I felt like Sam meeting Isaiah gave him the impetus to become Captain America, even though Isaiah didn't want him to take on the mantle. So, Sam had a lot to think about. And it was good to get that other perspective, because for Sam, getting the Captain America shield from John Walker was really important. But why Isaiah and people like Isaiah would not want Sam to take on a mantle that was imbedded in oppression did make sense, but in the end, it was Sam's choice. It will be interesting to see how the fourth film explores what it means for Sam to actually be Captain America.

Through Isaiah we also get Eli, his grandson, and in the comics, Eli is Patriot, who is also part of Sam's group. So, maybe, Elijah Richardson who was playing, Eli has hinted that maybe there’s a future for his character. Who knows.

A lot of people are really excited because it seems like the makings of the Young Avengers has been in the works. A lot of the characters have been introduced by now, but who knows, we haven't got any confirmation yet. Let's not get excited. But it'll be great to see something like that.

On the whole, this show was surprisingly enjoyable. It was a bit darker than I expected. I really did think that it would be more bantery and fun. I didn't mind the dark bits. I think they worked well. Certain characters worked better for me—Isaiah was definitely a highlight. I love Sam and his sister Sarah. The glimpses we got of the Dora Milaje were lots of fun. Bucky, initially, I really wasn't sure about him, but it got a lot better. Sharon, she's doing a good job with what she's got. But I don't know what the future holds. I really wish it wasn't in the darker direction that it's apparently going.

John Walker, it looks like that guy's gonna be hanging around. He's probably going to be a thorn in Captain America’s side, that’s for sure. A second season would definitely be welcome. And I think it will be needed. Whereas with WandaVision, it works as a whole. The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, now Captain America and The Winter Soldier, it probably needs a bit more time for some of these characters. But otherwise, surprisingly enjoyable.

Mon: Yeah, I really like the show. I would go as far as to say, I actually really loved it. Yeah, there were some writing issues. And I will admit that yes the villains were under done—they were very formulaic which, honestly, the first episode seemed to suggest that they weren't going to be, so that was really disappointing. But if you came here for Sam and Bucky, you are going to get Sam and Bucky, and they are great; they are fantastic. It seems like Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan seem to be really enjoying playing these characters and fleshing them out, which is great. I mean at the end of it, it seems like the two of them, as characters, have really formed a bond. They seem to have accepted that Bucky is just part of the Wilson family, and it's great because he's been kind of on his own all this while. And for whatever reasons, Steve wasn't able to give him that family feeling, because Steve himself was a man out of time, Sam isn't, so it was really nice to see these characters get a platform, and then really grow into it. I would honestly love to see a second season, I would love to see a second season, and Captain America 4.

Ron: Yeah.

Mon: Because I can't get enough of these characters. So please Marvel, keep at it.

Ron: What did you think of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier? We'd love to hear from you.

You can find us on Twitter @Stereo_Geeks. Or send us an email stereogeekspodcast@gmail.com. We hope you enjoyed this Episode. And see you next week!

Mon: The Stereo Geeks logo was created using Canva. The music for our podcast comes courtesy Audionautix.

[Continuum by Audionautix plays]

Transcription by Otter.ai, Ron, and Mon.

[im-a-space-gay]

The Deleted Name Reveal

Another Gay Gamers fic about me making the British boi suffer :D!! I am tired, and really need sleep and validation, but guess what?? I’m not gonna get either!! Oh well.

Trigger Warnings include: Cursing, mentions of pervs, anger, sadness, lack of mental stability, break downs, crying, name reveals that weren’t recorded, Virge been a lil troll, let me know if I need to add more!

Before Virgil went to Florida

~~~~~~~

One more thing. If one more sh*tty thing happened to Virgil in the remaining time of today, he will scream. So many things went wrong today, if you asked him.

It started out when he realized he was out of food, meaning he had to leave his dark and amazing apartment and into the sunlight where people were to buy more. But of course, he missed the bus, had to wait an hour for the next one, had some perv sit next to him that kept leaning into his personal bubble and giving him the bedroom eyes, and then the store was out of Cheddar Broccoli Ricearoni in a cup, making his day so much worse because damn that was the good stuff.

And then when he missed the bus back, he decided walking would be faster, and halfway there, it started raining. He understood he lived in England, but come on!

So now, here he was, soaked all the way through as he entered his apartment, hoping to god his food was dry because most of that stuff didn't last in water, like chips. He put away his snackage first, deciding his health didn't matter anymore as he put the food in the cabinets, ignoring his shivering.

And soon enough he was done putting away groceries and getting into dry clothes and currently was brewing up tea. He was making some part of today enjoyable, mark his words. However, he didn't count on one thing.

His online friends.

They started texting him, telling him to set up and load Minecraft, and that's when it hit him. Recording day. The cherry on top of his already perfect day, huh?

He thought about how he wouldn't make it through the recording without either snapping at everyone or staying completely silent as he turned on his computer, deciding he was gonna need a lot of sugar in his tea for this crap. Hopefully, his mood would make the video more interesting, as it wasn't very often he was like this with no explanation.

Virgil first loaded Minecraft, deciding he could use that time to try to relax and cool down before he had to hear those voices that he was not ready to hear.

And when the time came, he dreadfully opened Discord while sipping his sweet tea. He clicked on the call and oh boy, they were already yelling.

"Hi Anxie!" Patton called over the other two's arguement, making them shut up quickly and say their hellos as well. Virgil just grunted, reading back in the chat to figure out what they were doing and opening one of their modded worlds.

"Did you just wake up?" Logan asked, his stern lecturing voice already coming out which really peeved Virgil off.

"No. I've been awake all day," he growled, trying to ignore his friend's characters as he went down into the mine.

"Okay, no need to be violent!" Roman said, and Virgil just hissed and continued on. As his friends officially started the video, Virgil went to level 23 and made a little hole, barricading himself in and hoping to God nobody would find him. If he was lucky, they wouldn’t mind him doing essentially nothing this video and would be fine with just his barely there commentary.

“Say hello Anx!” Patton said, and wow, did he really miss the other’s introductions? Dang.

“Greetings,” he said, trying not to let his anger out on Patton. He was too good for that. Patton moved on, and he assumed that would be it for five minutes, but of course, Roman was unpredictable.

“That’s it? That’s all?” Roman asked, apparently not pleased with his one word.

“Greetings fellow pieces of garbage, how are you. Better?” Irritation was creeping into his voice as he went on, and if the others didn’t know something was wrong before, they definitely did now.

“Geez, calm down,” Roman said, sounding concerned. Virgil hissed at him again, holding back tears from his frustration as he sipped his tea.

“Are you alright Anx?” Logan asked this time, sounding equally concerned, which did not help his mood at all.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. He became more irritated when there was no more tea in his cup, getting up and going into his kitchen to pour another cup before deciding to grab the entire kettle and drinking out of that as he tried to stay calm listening to his friends.

“So, what do you think of that Anx?” Patton asked halfway into the video, and Virgil just hissed. He didn’t hear what Patton was asking about, and he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay in this f*cking hole, chug his piping hot tea, and not talk. He shall achieve this, even if he had to commit arson to do it.

“Dude, what is your problem?” Virgil hissed again. When he noticed Logan’s gamer tag coming closer, he crouched. Of course, this didn’t matter as Logan broke into his hole, but it seemed like he found it by accident.

“Wha- Anx what are you doing down here?” He asked in confusion.

“Trying not to have a breakdown and burning my tongue on Chamomile,” Virgil said truthfully, his angry tone melting into an unstable one. He felt tears rolling down his cheeks and he chugged more tea so he wouldn’t make any noises.

“Are you okay?” Roman asked in a joking tone, probably thinking he was kidding. Virgil stopped drinking his tea, opened his mouth to answer the usual “I’m fine”, but a small sob came out instead. “Wait, sh*t, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Anx,” Patton said in a concerned and begging voice.

“I’m fine!” Virgil insisted, holding back any noises that might prove otherwise.

“Pause the recording,” Logan said, and it sounded like everyone went through with it like Virgil did. “Anx...”

“I’m okay!” Virgil said, but the small sobs wracking through the two words contradicted his statement. He couldn’t help but curl into a ball in his giant computer chair, wiping his eyes as if they could see him.

“Who are you trying to convince?” Logan asked softly, and Virgil started crying louder, rubbing his eyes harder too.

“I- I don’t know...”

“God damn it Anx,” Roman mumbled, and Virgil started shrinking into himself before Roman continued. “Why do you have to be all the way in England?”

“Because tea,” Virgil sniffled, and smiled brokenly when he heard the surprised laughter from all three.

It took a while, but they managed to calm him down, and never once asked what he was upset about, which he was thankful for because all the things that made him mad sounded stupid out loud. They just asked if he could continue the video, and after reassurances that he could and wanted to, they let it go. But...

“Uh, before we start recording again, can I um... tell you guys something?”

“Of course Anxie!” Patton said cheerfully, and oh boy that made him more nervous. “What is it Kiddo?”

“Uh- um, so uh...” Virgil took a deep breath. It’s like a bandaid, you just gotta rip it off. “MynameisVirgil!”

“I- I’m sorry, what was that? You said that really fast.”

“My name, is Virgil,” he repeated slower, biting his lip. It was silent for a second before Roman spoke up.

“Wait. Wait wait wait, for real? This isn’t another prank? Like, that is actually your real name?”

“Uh, unless mum’s been lying to me all my life, I’m pretty sure that is my name,” Virgil joked before realizing he’s probably said something similar in his pranks. “I could try and find my birth certificate? It’s gotta be around here somewhere, just give me a second and—“

“Virgil?” Logan cut him off, and Virgil stopped from where he was about to get up.

“Yeah?” He responded near-immediately, not noticing the name difference. Patton squealed, clapping excitedly. This of course, made Virgil really scared. “What? Did I do something?”

“That was too quick to be a fake name!” Patton said, and Virgil finally registered what happened.

“Do you still want a birth certificate or...?”

“I think we’re good Anx.”

“Okay,” Virgil said nodding, and was about to start recording again before—

“Hey An- Virgil?”

“Yes?” He stopped, looking at the computer with the call on it in curiosity.

“We love you, okay?”

Virgil felt his face heat up, and thankfully held back a squeak for the most part, only letting out a small flustered sound. He had to remind himself that Roman was most likely referring to platonic love, and not... the love he felt.

“Y- Yeah, okay. I love you guys too,” he mumbled, and he felt his butterflies turn into seething hot rage as not one, not two, but all three of them starting to “aww” at him, saying how tiny and adorable he was.

How insulting. This is why online friends from America couldn’t be trusted.

Needless to say, Virgil left his little hole and kept trolling the others for the rest of the day, his only explanation being: “What? Me? I’m just a smol, cute bean who apparently can’t do anything wrong.”

[dansnaturepictures]

11/10/2020-Phalarope paradise at Pennington: The 10 pictures in this photoset different to those I tweeted just now 

As you may have seen we went to Bushy Park yesterday on our big wildlife watching and photography trip which is a part of a day trip we do every year which I loved and was one of the best times of our year without a doubt. I always try to not do trips like that further afield with so many photos and sightings on a Sunday and have to go to work the next day (even when it’s working from home) it just makes me tired and hard to find motivation for the morning and fully cool down from the trip a bit so after the weather putting us off Bushy last Saturday Bushy was locked in for yesterday. On Friday we learned of the mega bird a Wilson’s Phalarope with Grey Phalaropes at Pennington in the Lymington-Keyhaven nature reserve at the foot of the New Forest. We instantly knew we’d go there today then we didn’t even have to decide. In hindsight I can say that phalaropes do stay around a few days it seems when they do turn up as they are always birds blown in by Atlantic storms on migration and that’s how they end up in Britain they stay a few days to feed up before flying off again. But I have got to say I did just have a little feeling of slight desperation last night as every tweet I clicked on seemed to be have a picture of the Wilson’s Phalarope! Which is remarkable in itself really. 

People from Hampshire and far and wide (as we observed in person here today for the latter) were coming to my beloved local and one of my favourite nature reserves and getting criminally close views of this very rare and stunning bird and the Grey Phalaropes that I needed to see for my year list too. I just had in my head that I’d feel maybe a bit bad if I missed it being at one of my spots but I had one of my best times of the year at Bushy so I would never have regretted going there and I would not have swapped it for the world yesterday. And finishing the weekend off at Pennington worked it’s a trip much more suited to a Sunday being half an hour to forty five minutes away from us. And I have a feeling yesterday in terms of social distancing many people would be there. Today it’s a Sunday so perhaps some people do other things and there were not hoards here today and it was easy to socially distance when here today. The feelings of “I want to go and see this” gave me interesting twitcher’s vibes. 

So with the strong memories of Bushy still engulfing me in amazement of the experience yesterday I was also so excited to get back to Pennington for the first time since last month on a very sunny afternoon today. I took the first three pictures in this photoset of nice views here today. As we walked down to fishtail lagoon the one that usually always hosts the rare birds interestingly here where the Wilson’s Phalarope had been seen we got binoculars views over the lagoon and noticed a phalarope fly and land by a bank. It was so tall compared the grey and red-necked we are familiar with which the Wilson’s is so we were sure this was the bird. 

We then got down to the lagoon on the pathway and walked towards some people. To our delight right beside the path in the channel south of the lagoon was one of the two Grey Phalaropes around! Like we had seen of one further down here in 2017 we got stunning views of it. It really was so close, it did not seem bothered by people at all. It was simply amazing views and I loved watching it swim down the channel. My first of the year. 

The Wilson’s Phalarope had flown out into the lagoon so we looked for it. Someone then spotted it by the fence of the lagoon coming into the channel further up. The channel is a flooded bit of ground outside of the fence really. We walked down and were astounded to see it right beside us in the water as it swam in and out of reeds. We got absolutely stunning and remarkable views of it. I took the fourth and fifth pictures in this photoset of this incredible bird. This one wasn’t bothered by people either and we just saw this smashing and beautiful bird so close. It was a dreamlike experience to see a bird like this so close. Special stuff. I was in my element watching it as phalaropes do swim up and back along the channel. It showed off its attractive yellow legs at certain points and got on with what it was doing without a care in the world. It even tried to get back through the fence onto the main lagoon at one point which was interesting to see. 

So this is a new bird for me, my sixth this year now only one behind how many I saw last year and level with how many I saw in 2017. It’s my 272nd bird in my life and with the Grey Phalarope my first of the year today takes my bird year list to 186. So my year list is still solidly my third highest ever for amount seen on this date behind last year and 2018, I am only four behind my 2017 total now. But this for seeing a new bird this was something else. The last time I got views this good for a new species I think was my first Crested Tits at RSPB Loch Garten in the Cairngorms in January 2018 and the Barred Warbler at Titchfield Haven weeks before it at the end of 2017. It was telling it was a good view of a new bird as for the pictures I took of it I didn’t use my bridge camera so long distance specialist once but used my DSLR and big lens the whole time it was that close which this camera and lens is so good for usually to see something new now it’s gotta be rare like this was so it’d be a long way away but that’s not always how it works with phalaropes. They are known to be approachable because they can be a bird of the wilderness in their natural range so are less used to humans so seeing them come and behave like this here is quite something. 

We walked on up to Keyhaven lagoon and back noting decent numbers of Wigeon and Shoveler which was really interesting to see some coming in for the winter now, we also got chatting to some lovely people as we did for the whole walk and twitch today who pointed out a Peregrine to us the first we had seen for a while. We also took in some great views as the sun came back after going in a bit including the sixth and seventh pictures in this photoset. When we walked back beside fishtail lagoon the Grey Phalarope was still parading up and down in the channel of water so close to us. We took in more stunning views of this beautiful bird that we missed seeing last year but was now my eighth occasion of seeing one, once in 2009 here, twice here in 2017 as well as at Blashford Lakes and Hayling Island oysterbeds that autumn, twice in 2018 on the River Itchen at Riverside Park and here the next day the same day we saw another new bird the Temminck’s Stint and now today. I took the eighth picture in this photoset of this lovely bird. It was so close I had the idea to take some phone videos of the bird. 

We walked up to the proper channel of water east of fishtail lagoon where followed by observers the Wilson’s Phalarope had moved to. We got more sensational views of it here coming so close to many of us swimming along and I took phone videos of this too all of which I shared posts of from my Instagram earlier and tweeted whilst out today many people were doing the phone videos it was an interesting quirk of this twitch symbolic as another person remarked of how incredibly close the bird was to us. It was so delightful to watch the Wilson’s Phalarope as the bird swam about in the later afternoon sunlight. A real fantastic autumnal moment and stunning birdwatching one. I took the ninth and tenth pictures in this photoset of the Wilson’s Phalarope. A great vibe and atmosphere we were all so in aw of the bird. 

Before we left we saw the Ruff with a white head that we saw here our first of the year in February with another of its kind which was nice I tweeted a picture of that. This ended one of my best and happiest times of the year this weekend and ever. I saw sensational wildlife and views and took so many pictures. The two trips further afield and local complimented each other so well I think. It was two perfect high standard days to follow each other in great weather. Such joyful times I shall never forget this weekend! Thanks so much for sharing it with me and all your appreciation shown. I hope you are all keeping safe and well. Have a nice week.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first ever Wilson’s Phalarope, my first Grey Phalarope of the year, two of my favourite birds the Peregrine Falcon and Little Egret, Cormorant, Black-headed Gull, great view of an Oystercatcher and many more, Lapwing, lots of Curlews which was nice, Ringled Plover, Turnstone, Redshank, Wigeon, Shoveler, Pintail, Mallard, Coot, Meadow Pipit, Carrion Crow, Woodpigeon, lots of late Swallows today which was nice to see flying around, Pied Wagtail and Large White butterfly. 

[curious-minx]

Left Behind In The Halloween Parade: Late Review of Bob’s Burgers And The Simpsons.

The First Sunday of November, and the Last Sunday of the Trump and Biden election, found Hulu finally uploading the Bob’s Burgers and Simpsons Halloween episodes. So in the spirit of taking your sweet ass time that is exactly what I did with this review. The Bob’s Burgers Halloween episode is probably the weakest of the series, a series that is practically a Hallmark card company in terms of the amount of holiday-inspired content they have churned out. Episode “Heartbreak Hotel-oween” isn’t a particularly offensive in any way it just fails to live up to Halloween episodes such as my personal favorites Season 8 “The Wolf of Wharf Street,” which remains one of the most visually stunning episodes of the series,  and  Season 4, the series’ second Halloween episode,“Fort Night,” which has incredibly gruesome stakes and the most satisfying entry in the Louise versus Millie feud. 

“Heartbreak Hotel-oween” is still ultimately pretty good and though it took a second viewing to fully appreciate it I do like watching the Belcher children deftly sail through the world of adults. The tantalizing plot thread of a Bob’s Burgers Delivery service is dangled and I would like to see more Delivery based plots. Getting these characters into different areas and expanding upon the ambitious Jersey shore town. Having the kids deliver a burger to an older woman using the burger as a lure for her seance is flattened against a brown and forgettable after thought of a hotel. Everything with the Belcher kids is good and interesting and with the help of Andy Daly voicing the Hotel Manager; Lindsey Stoddart doing Quarantine duty and voicing multiple characters including the old woman Dolores conducting the seance, and Loren Bouchard Home Movies collaborator Melissa Robbins stops by as a bystander character as well. 

The episode starts getting in its own way with the adults blood bank centric B-plot. The entire plot is given in a single exchange with Teddie being excited about donating blood and everyman Bob with his everyman  O-negative blood finds giving blood nauseating and gross. That’s it. That’s the whole plot and besides the blood banker workers being dressed up as vampires there are no other comedic games being played and it is total unmemorable fluff, which has been a common issue for the ongoing series. One thing this episode does right is at least get Bob, Linda and Teddie out of the restaurant and into a new environment. A lot of the verbal exchanges between Bob, Linda and Teddie feel a lot more stilted due to Covid recordings and the lack of non-scripted banter is sorely missed. I have noticed this season having more John H. Benjamin monologue Bob by himself moments, which only work when Bob’s imagination is in full flight. Where was the talking bag of Bob’s blood? Hell I wouldn’t even had objected to hearing a dang song sung by the vampires to help soothe Bob into giving blood or something beyond: Bob doesn’t like giving blood because it makes him woozy, he gives blood and get’s woozy. 

Overall this is a perfectly serviceable episode: three Ghost-baiting cheeseburgers out of five. 

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Intermission. 

Fox is certainly using the Loren Bouchard & Molyneux sisters brand like a blood bag with the recent announcement of the new series The Great North. Wendy Molyneux is a frequent writer, (executive) story editor since Bob’s Burgers inception. She is the writer of  “The Wolf of Wharf Street” and the episode of Bob’s Burgers I have watched the most - “There's No Business Like Mr. Business Business,” because I am a cat fanatic, John Oliver fan, and have been the pet companion of a standard poodle exactly like Snoodle named Faust that I love dearly. Basically, I am excited for this show. Molyneux is also a deeply connected collaborator with Megan Mullally writing on all 74 episodes of Mullally’s forgotten by the ages The Megan Mullally Show. A show according to Wikipedia’s citation of Fox News, “viewers were disappointed to find out that Megan is not anything like Karen in real life,” and if there is any white woman out there that is an anti-Karen it is Mullally. Mullally is not the focus of the show but her more visible and commercially accessible husband Nick Offerman is finally being anointed into the annals of TV Dads. With his three sons voiced by Paul Rust, Will Forte and National Treasure Aparna Nancherla and sole daughter voiced by Bob’s Burgers alum Jenny Slate, who recently honorably stepped down from a lucrative tv series Big Mouth deal like the real champ that she is.  Mullally will show up as Jenny Slate’s character’s boss andThe cast is undeniable the backdrop of Alaska has a lot of promise for elaborate or interesting set pieces. I am ready for this show! Will this be Bob’s Burgers Futurama? That’s probably a vicious hex based on how Futurama was infamously jerked around by Fox. FOX has already given the show a promising two-season deal, which is already a lot better than what Netflix did for Tuca and Bertie. Faint nowhere discussions of the Bob’s Burgers movie were also mentioned in an interview with Bouchard who has a cantankerous “theater release only” policy, which bums out a little, but I would much prefer they take as long as possible. The Bob’s Burgers movie cannot end up carrying out the Simpson movie curse.

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I am no Simsons scholar. I could not give you an active ranking of favorite Tree House of Horror episodes. I could tell you that I really like Bart as an Edgar Allen Poe’s Raven. You don’t need to be Simpsons scholar to safely state that “Treehouse of Horror XXXI” should be ashamed to show its “funny face.” For starters the entire appeal of the anthology style of storytelling has been completely deflated by having two of the previous episodes in this season being gimmicky non-standard episodes. The only positive thing I can say about this episode is that it is an important teaching tool for what the most broken and shittiest, laziest satire imaginable would look like and the 2020 Election cold opening is actually pretty solid. All of the good will earned by the strong opening is completely squandered starting with an inexplicably CGI Toys Story sketch. I am assuming the animation department went with CGI because the source material is CGI. The CGI is really bad and makes me really miss the 3D models of Simpsons Hit And Run and perfectly charming The Simpsons Game. Instead this sketch’s particular animation looks like the animators were most inspired not by Pixar’s clean and craftsmen like CGI models but were going for more of a Fanboy & Chum Chum look. A Toy’s Story parody in this day and age is asinine in its laziness, but it’s still an evergreen territory. A good Toy’s Story parody is possible, but simply having Bart play out the role of Toy Story’s Sid except he gets lobotomized by his own toys. I did appreciate the writer’s making the explicit moral of the story to not buy toys, which for a Disney product like the Simpsons is pretty rich. 

Behold! The last recorded instance of a quality Toys Story satire from China, IL

The next two parodies go down slightly better simply because they aren’t sporting that eye bleeding animation but paying homage to Enter The Spider-verse and Russian Doll/Happy Death Day 2U in 2020 feels just as dated as Toy Story. What kind of fool is still writing about Russian Doll in 2020? The Enter the Homer-verse sketch is at least ambitious and showcases how masturbatory  the show has come whenever it is showcasing Dan Castellaneta’s various vocal talents. I get it dude, you like having dump trucks of money given to you for barely making an effort and doing Hannah Barbara impersonations that sound more like a bad Woody Allen. Regardless, this is still the one sketch that makes the most attempt to have comedic games with its multiple iterations of Homer and even throwing out some alternative universe Burns and Smithers for good measure. The final third Russian Doll sketch that let’s you know that this sketch is more Russian Doll than Happy Death Day by using the same exact Harry Nilsson “Gotta Get Up”  piano riff. This sketch had potential but once again the show writers and creatives seem to only indulge the worst possible instincts and cast Lisa as the lead of the sketch. So that means we get to watch this 8 soon-to-be 9 year old girl and fellow child Nelson get murdered in a variety of banal and brutal ways, and it’s just not fun or pleasant to watch. The obvious choice is an unexpected Springfield resident and if it has to be a Simpson having Marge or one of her sisters be the Nadia surrogate makes far more logical sense and Marge’s birthday would carry more emotional weight. 

Reminder to myself to check out this lost late series entry where Natasha Lyonne is the voice of Krusty’s daughter. 

I completely understand why The AV Club canceled their coverage of The Simpsons. The whole series has a very masochistic and sadistic pull and tug between creatives and fans. The sweet and simple souls of Den of Geek are still reviewing the Simpsons and offer a far more favorable review: https://www.denofgeek.com/tv/the-simpsons-season-32-episode-4-review-treehouse-of-horror-xxxi/.  Google results also yield one another publication reviewing this current season published on medium that has been taken by for violating medium rules. Will the Simpsons be coming for me next? 

Skip this episode! Judging by the synopsis of the season’s next ep finding the Simpsons, once again, finding themselves somewhere other than Springfield is looking to be another skippable entry. I want to be proven wrong! The latter day Simpsons seasons usually have a memorable or decent episode here or there. So far the only thing remarkable about this season is how much it wants to try to be different and think outside of the Springfield box but in the process give the season an overwhelming sense of hollowness. I shall forge ahead with my coverage, because I am either a masochist or a sadist depending on the weather. 

[tslasvegas]

Finale Episode: “This has been AMAZING.” - Pat

Drama? Caused. Immunity? Mine. (hopefully) Maybe I should've just voted Liv to cause a super messy re-vote but this was an okay outcome I suppose. Now I just need to win immunity OR convince Keegan and Pat to vote with me for one more round. :) Balls to the fucking wall. I'm here to win. 

So final 6 tribal council was a bit of a shitstorm. But I’m still here so it turned out not too bad and Kailyn, the one person I’ve basically never talked to got the boot. Pat played an idol I didn’t know he had, Jaiden played a legacy advantage on himself and Livingston played an idol on me. Bless his heart. Liv is the best. If I can’t win he absolutely deserves to. And now we have a stupid endurance type challenge that requires 6 hours of dedication and I don’t want to do it, because I feel like I could make better use of my day tomorrow but whatever. We’ll see what happens. I would ideally love to have Jeff gone next, and then Jaiden. If it’s a final 2, I’m going with Liv, whether or not he beats me I don’t care. There’s a case to be made for taking Pat out instead of Jaiden. But we shall see how this challenge goes.

....five seconds later

I hate this challenge

....five seconds later

Why'd this challenge have to be 6 hours? I get that we're at final 5 but man this is awful. Sorry Dan, Sorry Jake but I hate this challenge. 

Okay so I don't really remember when the last time I gave a confessional was. So we're just gonna cover the Xavier tribal and hope I didn't already do that lol. This tribal was extremely good for my game, and along with likely the John/Super Idol tribal, will be the time I use as my defining moment in the game, as it shows that I wasn't entirely reliant on Jaiden to get me places, because that seems like the most likely argument against me winning. I could very well see people coming in with a preconceived notion that I was in some way carried by Jaiden, or the fact that I'm alive is because of him. This tribal, where Jaiden thought he could take me out since he knew what the vote count would be with my vote steal, is evidence of that. Luckily for me, I had one more card up my sleeve with the extra vote. And this is why no matter how much you may trust someone, always have an ace in the hole. But on top of that, blowing nearly every advantage in the game, while also being vulnerable at that tribal, is about the best that things could've gone for me. It shows that despite voting out Joey, I still had the trust of Keegan and Liv, and it shows that I had plenty of my own agency in the game. With the next challenge being a logic puzzle, I was not feeling confident going into it. I'm alright at them, not notably great, but when I was practicing, the average times there were something like ~2-3 minutes, which I was just not able to match the pace of. But I did the challenge, and managed to pull off a clean 4 minute time, plenty to spare to win the challenge which I was happy about. This also gave me some breathing room after being to close to going home for comfort. Going into the next tribal, I do know that I have to be wary of Jaiden. The way he talks about him having received legacy from Xavier, saying that Xavier went home with an idol, a lot of his actions there were very sus and I know that I can't take everything at face value. Because of this, I decided to take advantage of being immune, and tried to get Liv on board for a potential F3 of Pat/Him/Me. The caveat would be that Keegan goes home here, just because he has strong potential of winning challenges, which is very true. Liv seemed skeptical, and said he'd sleep on it, which really should've been my first inclination that something is wrong. But I asked him again the next day, and he said "he was open to it". That should've been strike 2, and I'll admit, I was being a little over confident. At that point, Jaiden starts talking to me and is really paranoid about things going wrong, acting like he's going to get voted out. But he insists he has legacy, so everything is fine. I'm just letting him be paranoid, but I also explain that if he's not going to be straightforward with me about what he's thinking for tribal, I'm not particularly interested in exploring possibilities that can hardly be considered possibilities. Come tribal, and what do you know, Jaiden was right. 2 idols and a legacy get played, and Kailyn goes home. Which even if a roundabout way, is what I intended on happening if Keegan had had an idol, so I was not upset about the outcome at all. This also works to my advantage, because it gives Jaiden an "I told you so" moment, and should make him be more confident in going to FTC with me, should I lose these immunities. I just need to get to FTC and I can tell a great story on why I should win. Making it there is the hardest part though

Really gonna go 6 hours posting every 5 minutes. I hate this.

General thoughts on how I think end game should play out from my perspective: My main reasoning for why I think I’ll win though, is just who my alternatives are. Liv won’t win the game. Too small of a player, too defensive of moves. Could be considered an underdog, but in general not pulling much. Keegan, probably too quiet, and like Liv, too defensive. The ideal “contrarian” candidate though, due to general likability and not really doing anything wrong. Pat, should in theory be a budget version of me. From what Jaiden says, he’s less social than me, although admittedly, my social game has fallen off hard throughout the end. It’s difficult to keep up so much though when I don’t have a life to speak of for myself. Jaiden, the clear other option, at least from my perspective. Had had many failed moves, not always a clear direction on what he’s doing or where he’s going, could be seen as second fiddle to me. I think that FTC would mostly come down to, in a me vs Jaiden scenario, which of us people see as the second to each other. People could take my survival as due to Jaiden keeping me safe, but Jaiden calling the shots. People could take me as being the one really in the middle, controlling moreso how each vote turned out. Personally I think the thinking in my favor is more likely/reasonable, but Jaiden has the personality that people will want to support as well. If jury is more game oriented, I probably win. If they aren’t, Jaiden may come out on top. 

I feel like this is my Tumblr Survivor breakthrough. I finally made it to the final four. The finale episode. I'm not on the jury quite yet. The end is so close I can literally taste it. But my work isn't done just yet. With Jeff gone, I oddly feel a lot of weight lifted off my shoulders and I can finally breathe again. It wasn't the primary or even secondary plan I had going into this, but if I want a chance to win this game, I have to take care of him first. It also seemed as though there was an opportunity for me to create a little chaos in the event that this game becomes a final two instead of a F3. People are going to want to cut me at the first chance they get I think, but now that it's a F2 they can hold it off one more vote, no? I tried to plant a seed into Pat's head that Livingston and Keegan are a tight duo and while we could totally get rid of Keegan tonight, we could do Livingston instead and have better odds at the F4 because Keegan/Jeff are going to be laser-focused on going after each other. But then Pat went and told Jeff everything in the chat we have together so I flipped it around and made Pat responsible for going after Livingston. So now I go back to Keegan and tell him that Pat was doing whatever it took to keep Jeff safe and that I was the person keeping Pat on focus to get rid of Jeff. It became way more logical after Pat started throwing Liv's name out there for real for me to get rid of Jeff, because either Pat votes Liv and looks like a fucking shady bitch in the F4, OR Pat votes Jeff with me and we share the blame for getting rid of Jeff equally. Keegan owes me - I just saved him from getting voted out. I could've easily voted out Keegan tonight! I could've left two guaranteed votes in his direction but I didn't. Pat owes me - I convinced him the necessary moves and walked him through two big plans heading into tribal, but I kept him up to date on what he wants. At the end of it, he still begged me to tell him what we needed to do - he flipped back to Liv and then told me, then begged me to tell him what he should do, and I told him to do Jeff. He voted correctly because of me. Livingston owes me - As far as he needs to know, Pat and Jeff were going to vote his ass out of here with me had I not turned Pat's vote back and kept Keegan on close watch. Livingston and I have a decent relationship, but I've now saved him more times than I've voted against him (again, as far as he knows) and that's gotta count for something. This season wasn't about making best friends. It was about winning Tumblr Survivor, so yes, I've backstabbed along the way and voted people out mercilessly. But if I make it to the final two, I kept it real with the friends I made along the way but also put my game first. I feel like I can justify that because I made it this far without anybody ever writing my name down and everything I've done, whether its voting out Kailyn or using the powers of suggestion to drive a deeper wedge between Pat and everyone else, has had a bigger purpose than just surviving one more day. It has felt like a huge house of cards up until this point. I didn't play the simplistic "speaks for itself" game that I wanted in the beginning. Instead, I am going to have to justify every single move if I even make it to the final two. It's crazy. I expected to go home tonight had I not won immunity, and now I'm expecting to go home every night until I reach the finish, but like I said there's no more stress now. I'm fully galvanized here. I've been through the worst of the worst, now all I have to do is close my eyes, exhale, and let go. If I can pull off just two more challenges, I think I'm going to be the winner. You know, it's funny, I didn't come into this experience wanting to play a perfect game. It's so.. unrealistic especially with the type of game that I play, but it might happen? I'm not entirely sure. It would be such a good gift to me on my birthday if I do it because its looking like the FTC will happen on my birthday so umm.. Tumblr Survivor gods I know I've been praying to you a lot this season, but truly, please let that happen LOL

So Jaiden won immunity which is fine. Because Jeff didn’t win and that is all that matters at this point. So after some discussion and some Jaiden freaking the absolute fuck out, we ended up unanimously voting out Jeff. And for some odd reason, Jeff decided to switch a vote from me to Livingston. So I currently only have one vote against me and it was blocked by an idol. Yahoo!! I am in a very precarious situation at this point. Liv and I have a final 2 deal. Jaiden and I have a final 2 deal. Liv and I also agreed to vote out Jaiden in 4th place once Jeff was out. So.... I’m actually hoping that Jaiden wins this next immunity challenge so that can’t happen. And at that point we just vote out Pat and everything is good. That’s the absolute best case scenario at this point because it guarantees I make the final 2 regardless of who actually wins the final challenge. And believe me, if that’s the case I’m throwing the challenge LOL Liv will take me. Jaiden will take me. Why should I win? So yeah, fingers crossed that Jaiden wins this Cards Against Humanity game so we can have the best case scenario happen in this game. 

JEFF IS VOTED OUT AT F5

If I don't go home tonight I will be completely shocked

JAIDEN IS VOTED OUT AT F4

Final 3! One more challenge to go! And I win a fire making challenge. Suck on that! Also don’t come to my DMs whining that I voted for you when you voted for me too. And we’re just playing your game? Honey, you wouldn’t have had a game without us there. There’s this thing called threat level management. Learn it some time. Glad us three undeserving Palazzo members are the final 3. Time to win this final immunity challenge.

Y'all really thought my extra ass wasn't going to write one last confessional? Yeah right! This is probably the last one I'll ever write in a main season so let's make it good. First things first, some acknowledgements. I want to scream this from a mountain top, I really am just so thankful for the opportunity to play and Jake and Dan have my whole heart forever for giving it to me. I can't thank them enough and I really think this will be a positive experience that I hold in my heart forever. So yeah!! If you're reading this (but who is, really?) just know that Dan and Jake are KINGS!!! I also want to acknowledge how lucky I am to have gotten to where I was in this game, because luck did have a lot to do with all of this. I know that my game might not have been as good as it could've been in particular moments and maybe I boxed myself in at the end in a couple different ways, but luck always found a way to get me out of some sticky spots and I am humble enough to admit it. After I got voted out, I wasn't particularly upset with myself because I knew that if I didn't win the immunity, I'd be going out in this spot. I'm surprised that I had to make fire, but I wish that I had spent some time learning how to do slide puzzles really quick because honestly my performance in it was pathetic. Either way, not mad about it, that's just how the cookie crumbled and I probably would've lost to Livingston, too. The relief to all of this is that I got to join the jury full of people that I genuinely wanted to talk to again because I didn't have anybody left in the game that I particularly found great interest communicating with anymore. Keegan treating me like I didn't just spend my valuable time actually being his only friend was probably the lowest moment of the entire game for me. I wasn't even mad that I was losing as much as I was mad that he lied to my face when I confronted him with the truth, then called me a bitch because I told him I would have kept my word to him had he not tried to take me out. For me, that was fucking awful. The petty side of me wants to make final tribal particularly awful for Keegan, but the new and improved side of me wants to just tell him off and let him lose like about a thousand other Tumblr Survivor flops have over the past several years. When I came into this game, I didn't fully expect myself to make it as far as I did and have really had this gigantic transformation like I did. At the same time though, I'm not surprised that I did because I was living the transformation for like two years since I last showed my face in this community. The Jaiden seen in Las Vegas is the Jaiden that I'm finally in love with. It's the player that I've never been stable enough to be for almost five years now, and I am so proud to say that now. Without a doubt, I dominated this season. I know that. So many outcomes went the way that I had set them up, from getting rid of Stephanie to Joey handing me the legacy advantage. Even when they didn't go my way, I didn't become the next big target even though I said I was going home literally every single tribal since the beginning. There's a lot more gamewise that I could say, but I know Dan and Jake are aware of that and they're probably the only people even reading this now. So I guess that part will just stay between me and them. When I made my entrance to the jury, I was a little surprised to see such an overwhelmingly positive response from people like Kailyn, Joey, John, Xavier, and Andrew. It made me feel so validated as a player, a feeling that I have literally never had before in my whole entire time playing these games. It's so great how much that boosted my real-life confidence. After being part of the org community for like seven years by now, I've been able to separate the real world with the online world pretty well, but while devastating losses in the past haven't truly rocked my real world much, this positive reception will have a lasting impact on me for a really long time. I can't say how much it all means to me, because it's so profound and I can't explain it all in words. It just makes me feel optimistic despite being a chronic pessimist. Phew! Although I'm not the winner that I should've been, I am truly proud of myself. I feel like I've finally rolled that fucking stone ball up the hill and thrown it down the mountain on the other side, letting it tumble and kill my enemies on its way down. I think I came into this thinking that I was Sisyphus, but by now I've realized that I'm actually Kratos, the divine personification of strength and power. So maybe my story of never feeling complete from these silly games was never the problem I was looking to solve. My journey was about finding the strength and power I never knew that I had before. The confidence of being able to be at my lowest in games and real life, and somehow finding my way out of the darkness of both realms in tandem. I am basically living in the golden hour of my 23rd year of life, and this game just happened to take part in the midst of that. Good and bad, I am so thankful to have had these experiences shape what this period meant to me. I am living in a world now where the truth is that I am worthy. Not only because of this silly game, but like I said, the confidence gained here affirms that truth. I will never forget it. I'm not at all a religious person, but there's one verse in the Bible that I've always felt drawn to, and more so right now than ever before. John 8:32 - "Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." And now, with this last confessional to wrap my journey up, I am free. 

LIVINGSTON IS VOTED OUT AT F3. 

This is it. This is the end. I’ve done everything I can do and now it’s up to the jury to decide. This game was a blast, a true gamble actually playing. I’m proud of what I’ve done and how far I made it. I’m no longer a 5 time flop! 

I cannot believe this season had the end game that it did. Winning final immunity was a check off my bucket list, but getting there how I did was very well done in my opinion. I really hope that’s it’s respected by the jury. It’s nerve racking when the other person winning is valid. I hope o shows my impact on the end part of the game being influential enough to get votes. I may have been messy by being incorrect but I think I did well over all. I just want Jeff to know that that his vote off was really the hardest of the season. I hope lulu really was a benefit to me winning by making a final appearance. Queen lulu. Honestly no matter what happens I am so proud of myself. I know I’m getting at least one vote so that’s means good things, if I win this game I will be ecstatic because it’s been five years since I entered this whole community through tumblr survivor. I hope my game is respected and that I am to be rewarded. Thanks everyone for an amazing game this has been AMAZING