#(i had one drink but that is not relevant to my argument)

[vatrocvet]

i hope he gets hit by a truck or something

[rhey-007]

Love is a flame that thrives in the darkest corners of our hearts.

Fernando Alonso x goth mommy!reader || 18+

Summary: A Halloween party led Fernando to meet his one and only Morticia.

A/N: So it's the first time I write for Fernando so I might have not caught the essence of him, but I tried my best. Also, I love all the young readers (especially young mommy readers) but I'm kind of bored of them :// And I've never yet encountered an older reader so I decided to make this fic's reader around Nando's age with two sons - a 17 year old and 3 year old (which aren't really relevant here). She's also taller than him (181 cm, something like Lance). I'm also not that deep into the f1 universe yet and I don't know who's friends with who from the drivers so I just picked Carlos and Lando for Fernando's closest paddock friends (correct me pls).

+ The situation is completely made up. And I apologise if the Spanish and German parts are bad 😔🤚

Warnings/Tags: smut, 18+, older female reader, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, older reader, kids

Art to the fic

Wordcount: 4219 (around)

Masterlist

✧༺♥༻✧

Halloween was approaching with huge steps, just as a particular big costume party in Berlin did, to which all the F1 drivers were invited. Everyone was excited, besides the oldest one, driving for the turquoise team – Fernando Alonso.

His indifference was caused by the feeling he was too old for such parties and the fact that he had no one to go with. But after on going persuasion from Lando and Carlos, the poor man gave in and agreed to attend the event.

Although there was another problem – lack of creativity. Fernando had no idea what he should wear and if only he could, he would just throw on the first two things he'd find in his wardrobe. But he couldn’t. No, he had to have some costume. That’s when Norris and Sainz stepped in once again.

„What about Ghostface? "

The youngest asked enthusiasticaly. The three of them sitting in a cafe, drinking their coffees and teas and discussing their costumes. Both of them already knew what they were going to wear but refused to tell for a surprise effect at the party.

„Cliché! "

Carlos responded before he put forward his proposition.

„How about Beetlejuice?”

He asked sipping his chocolate macchiato but earned a displeased look from Lando, who didn’t agree.

„Really? Beetlejuice? Come on! I know his 40 but no one has to know! "

Noriss huffed crossing his arms.

„But Beetlejuice is iconic! "

The two started to argue, making everyone around them pay attention to them. Fernando sighed shaking his head, a little embarrassed by his friends’ behavior.

„If you won't stop arguing I'm not gonna go... "

He hissed trying to calm down the boys, who acted like children.

„Isn’t there a character that doesn’t need a lot of preparation from me? Someone... I don't know... Looking like me? "

Alonso asked after the boys finally stopped their childish quarrel. They both looked at Fernando, then at themselves with mischievous smiles and back at Nando.

„You know... "

Lando started, circling his finger on the wooden table.

„There is that one easy... spooky... Spanish character... "

Carlos continued smiling sweetly at his friend. Alonso quickly understood who they meant, his eyes widening and shook his head disapprovingly.

„No, no, no. I ain't going with Gomez. He makes no sense without Morticia. And you know well I DO NOT have one... "

„It doesn’t matter! I'm sure there's going to be a lot of Morticia's trying to find their Gomez! "

Lando smiled excitedly, he already could see Fernando as the head of Addams family dancing on the dance floor with some beautiful, georgous woman. It was also a great opportunity for the spaniard to find a new lover.

„But it's the easiest character for you! All you need is a striped suit, which I already know where to buy, and some gel for your hair. That's it! "

Lando tried to argument their point as well as he could with a slight help from Carlos.

„He's right. And maybe you’ll be lucky enough to find yourself a chick, finally. We have enough of you grumbling you have enough being alone... „"

The man whispered the last sentence hoping Nando won't hear it, but he did and softly smacked the back of Sainz's head. He did in fact had enough of being alone, as well as seeing all the guys glued to their girlfriends on the paddock, kissing, giggling and being happy. He wanted to puke at the only thought. After an hour of Carlos and Lando stating their pluses for the idea, and Fernando sinking in them, the older man finally but reluctantly agreed.

✧༺♥༻✧

When the time came, Nando put on his Gomez suit – it had not only white stripes but also turquoise ones as well as white – turquoise rose in the chest pocket - that Lando found for him and brushed his hair back with gel, leaving some loose strands for the hairstyle to look better. Carlos and Charles picked him up dressed as Mario and Luigi. Fernando could swear they argued which one would be Mario, and it amused him a little when he saw them.

„Hey man! Where's your Morticia? "

Leclerc teased with a smirk. Fernando just rolled his eyes and kicked Sainz’ sit to make him drive away already.

Soon they arrived to the party, stepping out of the car Norris and Piastri quickly greeted them dressed as Scooby and Shaggy with Lily dressed as Velma. The six of them walked in, loud music filling their ears. They filled one of the booths and immediately ordered drinks. Halloween sangrias, raven coktails and other drinks as quickly appeared on the table, as quickly disappeared from it.

While the guys danced Lando tried his best to find a Morticia for Fernando. He was right, there were a lot of them. All of them looked the same with small alterations to the dress, well they were all the same character after all.

Neither of them grasped Alonso's interest and the man was about to give up when he run into one of them after leaving the bathroom. She was different. Taller, older, mature, more dedicated to the role, more passionate. She caught his eye immediately.

„Oh god, I'm sorry”

He said after bumping into her, before she turned around and took his breath away.

„It's okay liebling~” (darling)

The woman smiled down at Nando, her voice like honey to his ears. The man took a good look at her.

Her slender fingers were wrapped around a glass - he wished they could be wrapped around his neck - pale skin shined in the lights as if she was one of the Cullens - he wondered if it burned in the sun - her eyes so dark he wasn’t sure if they were real, sharp canine teeth he wanted sanked deep in his neck so bad. She seemed like a real life vampire.

„Let me guess... You're a Gomez looking for his Morticia? "

She spoke up, getting him out of trance. A soft blush spread across the man's face, barely visible under the red light he was standing in, and he nodded sheepishly. The woman chuckled warmly, her tone changing from a playful to flirtatious one.

„Well, then I guess you're lucky. You've got yourself an einzigartig one~” (unique)

Stretching her hand towards Fernando, expecting him to kiss it she didn’t have to wait long as he obliged immediately. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her palm before asking in a gentleman manner.

„Would you like to dance? "

The woman agreed and after finishing her drink they were off to the dance floor.

They had a pretty good time, the woman taught Fernando a few moves, they were chatting throughout and giggling at the ridiculous costumes.

„I have to admit, you're an amazing dancer. You could make it to Dancing with the Stars”

She teased with a gorgeous smile, making Fernando practically melt in her embrace. He held onto her waist tightly as if she was going to run away the moment he'd let go.

But she wouldn’t. She was too mesmerized by the man to do so. Fernando shook his head at her words.

„No, no, cariño. You're the one who can really dance here”

Nando praised her then pressed another kiss to her hand and squeezed it gently. He was such a sweet gentleman it made butterflies fly in her stomach. Soon Alonso took her back to his booth where he realized he didn’t even knew her name.

✧༺♥༻✧

„I'm Y/N”

You said with a smile while shaking the guys’ hands. You’ve managed to catch that they all were F1 drivers and the girl was a girlfriend of one of them.

They were really nice people, aside the fact they were joking about your height difference, but still the only one you were really interested in was Fernando.

He was amazing - charming, handsome, soft, flirty. He had strong arms you wanted wrapped around yourself all the time, gentle hands that made you shiver, his wrinkles made him even more handsome and the shining hazel eyes made you loose yourself in them.

After some time you were left alone with the girl as the boys went to order more drinks.

„Are you as much invested in racing as them?"

You asked Lily and the girl shook her head.

„Not really. I support Oscar as much as I can but I still don’t get some of the things, like penalties, nor the whole hype. But y'know, I try my best”

Nodding your head you reciprocated the smile. You wondered how it was to be an F1 driver's girlfriend. For sure it wasn’t easy, especially because of the media and rumors, but you believed they could overcome it.

„So are you all here because of a race? Or did you just get the invitations to boost the event? "

„Well, there is a race here in a few days, but I wouldn't be surprised if the boostin up was true too! "

You both chuckled amuzed, you had to admit you wouldn’t be surprised either.

You quickly started to like the girl, she was really mature and smart for her age, not like her boyfriend.

Lily liked you too, she enjoyed the youthful vibe you radiated and the fact that Fernando seemed to finally find a woman perfect for himself. She just hoped you wouldn’t be just a one night stand.

„Well, well, well. I see our girls already get along. It's a good sign buddy~”

Piastri teased, nudging Fernando’s side as they came back. The older man rolled his eyes a bit annoyed before sitting down beside you and handing you your black magic margarita.

You took it after a quick ‘thanks' escaped your lips and took a sip, meanwhile your free hand made it's way to his lap to sooth it and signal everything's okay and there was no need to be annoyed. Nando relaxed under your touch and took your hand in his, interwining fingers together.

You continued your chat with Lily, from time to time joining the men's conversation. You really enjoyed their company.

✧༺♥༻✧

When the night passed you were finally left alone with Nando. Your legs layed on top of his, his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you close while your hand toyed with the hem of his jacket.

You both were a little tipsy, but sober enough to notice the sexual tension.

„My chauffeur will be here soon, thought we could get out of here and have some more fun~”

You purred into his ear. Feeling his hand squeeze your hip afterwards was enough for you to know that he was more than keen on it.

When your chauffeur arrived you left the bar and quickly hopped into your 50s Cadillac Hearse. The man completely forgot that someone might have seen you and take photos, he was too occupied by you.

Fernando’s lips immediately attacked yours the moment he closed the door. You were devoured into the passionate kiss and didn’t even notice the man’s hands starting to roam your body.

They were warm, burning in contrast to your freezing ones. When you burried them under Nando's shirt you could feel him shiver but soon he relaxed.

The drive to your small ghotic castle in Zehlendorf took around 30 minutes, but felt like 5 as you were drowned in your dirty ministrations.

Good thing the window to the front of the car was closed, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to do that. It was nothing much sexual, just kiss by kiss while your hands explored each others’ body respectfully.

You belived Fernando saved his – what Lando and Sainz called – freaky side for while you were in the bedroom and you didn’t want to rush anything, it was perfect as it was.

The man pulled you out of the car when it stopped, he didn’t bother to look at the facility as he carried you bridal style to the door. Your butler opened it and instructed Alonso to your bedroom where he quickly took you and gently settled on the bed.

You pulled him into another searing kiss while fiddling with the buttons of his jacket. The man took it off after you slowly and playfully unbuttoned it, while not breaking eye contact, and tossed it to the floor.

Next was your black fur. His shirt. Your gorset. Bit by bit you undressed each other. You appreciated how gentle he was with your garments, he figured they were expensive and he also liked them too much to ruin them.

Once you finally layed naked underneeth him he examined you in a lustful but also admiring way.

Your breasts were rather small - but he didn’t mind, stretch marks graced your lower belly, hips and thighs - he already knew he was going to follow the patterns with his fingers afterwards while softly tickling you, he could aslo see your ribs – barely but still – and he knew he would have to be careful with you. You were even more thin than he thought, almost slander like, but he liked that.

You were a change from all the younger, tanned, almost everywhere full woman he usually hooked up with, and it was a nice change.

You also were able to survey him better. He was even better built than you imagined, his tanned skin looked like caramel compared to your almost ghostish one, and the beautfiul samurai tattoo made you gasp when you noticed it in a mirror behind.

Also his ass cheeks... They were bigger than yours and you felt kind of jelous, in a funny way.

„Hermosa... perfecta... asombrosa... “ (beautiful, perfect, breathtaking)

He praised, his lips slowly making their way down your cold body.

“Y apuesto inteligente” (And I bet intelligent)

Fernando stopped just before your womanhood and said with a smirk painted on his face, his eyes piercing yours. His words were like spells, making your body shrink under his and warmth spread across it.

“Fernie...”

You breathed out, begging him to go lower which he obliged right away. It felt like bliss when he finally reached your rose, slowly licking it from the very bottom up to your sensitive bud, before starting to slowly devour it.

Saying he was skilled was an understatement, he was an expert. He was nothing like your ex-husband, who just used you for his own pleasure.

No. For Fernando your pleasure was a priority, making you enjoy your time with him was numero uno on his to do list for the rest of the night, and you didn’t complain.

When you were wet enough the man brought one of his fingers up to your entrance, touching it slightly while his eyes averted to yours, an asking expression on his face.

He didn’t have to say anything for you to nodd your head eagerly. After that he pushed his digit inside slowly, his eyes not leaving your face searching for any sign of discomfort. But there was none, so after a few thrusts that made you moan his name in such a beautiful way, he pushed another one and went a little bit faster.

The pace was neither painfully fast nor boringly slow, it was just perfect – his fingers hitting all the juicy spots and making lewd noises each time they pulled out and reentered you - enough for you to come undone in a short period of time.

Your hand gripped his brown locks while you came on his face. Nando tried his best to ride you through your high - his lips joining his fingers - then clean you the best he could.

Your heavy breaths were interrupted by his face suddenly appearing in front of yours. A huge grin graced it - you could tell he was proud with himself and his actions – and your juices were spread across his lips and beard.

You giggled a little at his puppy like behaviour, you could swear if he had a tail it would’ve been wagging like craz in that moment. You’ve managed to grab a tissue from your nightstand then clean his face.

“Es war wundervoll” (it was amazing)

You praised him with a smile while ruffling his hair.

“It wasn’t the end”

The man said before pressing his lips against yours. This time the kiss was more hungry and lustful than soft as the ones before, but you didn’t mind.

His palms toyed with your breasts, they fit in them perfectly making Nando groan satisfyingly. He kept teasing you until you couldn’t take it anymore and moaned out.

„Nando please... I need you... I need you inside of me liebling...” (darling)

You didn’t have to repeat yourself. The man grabbed your hand and run it gently through your sore core to gather your juices, then wrapped it around his member, giving it a few pumps before aligning with your hole.

He interwined your fingers together and slowly pushed inside, the stretch he gave you burned a little but soon was a delight.

After pushing almost all the way in Nando let you adjust, his free hand soothing your cheek as he observed your face shine in pleasure.

“Maravilloso” (wonderfull)

A whisper escaped his lips and just then did he start to move. His movement was slow but deep, his member burrying deep inside of you with every thrust.

“Tan bueno...” (So good)

Fernando moaned into your ear then hid his face in the crook of your neck, where he nibbled at your skin and left a few hickeys along with wet kisses.

His movements became more and more erratic with every push and pull as he lost himself in the feeling of you. He loved the way you clenched around him every time he hit the A spot, as much as he loved the challange to find your G spot to grant you ultimate pleasure.

You wrapped your free hand around the man, long, red nails scratching his skin gently and leaving soft red marks.

You couldn’t remember when was the last time you had such an amzing sex. Maybe because after your husband you opted for younger men, neither able to satisfy you.

But Fernando? He was your age and knew well how to satisfy a woman. You felt like a queen while in his embrace, his priority to make you feel good amazed you and sent a thrill down your spine.

Both your legs were wrapped around him too, trying to pull him even closer to yourself. A smirk appeared on his face at your actions and he pulled it away from your neck to look at you.

“Necesitada~”(needy)

The man teased, one of his hands finding it’s way to your breast to fiddle with your hard nipple. It earned a loud moan out of you, so loud he feared someone could hear you two, but soon the thought left his head when you started to breathe rapidly.

You were close to your orgasm, which meant he could finally let himself go and make his movements faster and sloppier.

Grunts, pants and moans filled the room as both of you reached your highs, the man pulled out before cumming which you really appreciated.

Fernando collapsed on top of you as you both breathed heavily, yours hampered by his weight.

“Fernie liebling... I can’t breath...”

You mumbled kissing the top of his head, a chuckle escaping your lips when he shot up, a worried expression on his face.

„I-I’m so sorry cariño. Are you okay?”

He asked and cleaned you from his seed. His hands soothing your rib cage gently, from time to time brushing against your breasts as he looked down at you, eyes full of worry and brows furrowed.

„Nein... I’m great” (No)

You smiled brightly and the man sighed in relief. He flopped down beside you and pulled you close then covered your bodies with your cashmere blanket.

Just as he predicted his hands immediately wandered to your hips, drawing your stretch mark patters, while you layed your head on top of his chest and listened to his heart beat.

If only you could you would have gone another round, this time you on top and in control as you usually would, but you were too tired to even think about this.

„Next time I'm in charge”

You murmured into his chest, earning a quiet, surprised gasp. He didn’t question your words though, he just enjoyed the fact you wanted there to be a next time.

The rest of the night you’ve spent in each others’ embraces, whispering sweet nothings and drawing patterns on each other’s bodies until you fell asleep.

✧༺♥༻✧

Sun peaked from between the black, floor length curtains into the dark room, reaching his skin and burning his eyes.

The man grumbled a little before finally waking up from the deep sleep. Fernando sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes then looked around the room.

„Where the hell am I?...”

He questioned confused. He didn’t bother to check his surroundings the night before and now he wondered if he didn’t get abducted.

The walls of your bedroom were burgundy red with black stripes, a black chandelier hanged from the ceiling as well as black canopy above the bed.

The bed was huge, in the same colors as the walls and everything else in the room. It felt like straight out of vampire novels.

Quickly putting on his clothes, he almost tripped and fell down the stairs, his bum actually hitting the last step at the very bottom - as his head was still heavy - made the people gathered in the kitchen check what was going on.

„Mama! Dieser Wichser ist endlich aufgewacht!“ (Mom! That motherfucker has finally woke up!)

„Klaus! Pass auf was du sagst!” (Klaus! Watch your mouth!)

Soon Nando felt the familiar cold hands grip his arm and help get up.

„Are you okay?

The woman asked, her hands soothing his cheeks worriedly. He leaned into her touch and noddded with lidded eyes.

„Oh mi amor, you scared me”

She continued while leading him to the kitchen and sat him down by the table.

„Here, this will wake you up”

A cup of dark liquid and a pill appeared in front of him, he figured it was coffe and hangover pills. A single sip helped him regain his mind.

The first face he met after fully opening his eyes was of a small kid’s, brightly smiling at him. The boy waved his hand enthusiastically when he noticed Fernando’s soft smile.

The man had to quickly take the pill before the boy could reach it then ruffled his hair gently, earning a giggle and a warm look from his mother.

„Good morning~”

You purred running your hand through the spaniard’s hair while his arm wrapped round your waist pulling you close.

„Buenos dias, cariño” (Good morning)

He kissed your hand then his head snapped to your older son who let out a sound of disgust.

The boy looked nothing like you aside the fact that he was a giant as well. He had blonde locks covering his forehead, green hooded eyes and tanned skin. He could not believe he was your son.

The younger one, on the other hand, was more similar to you – with dark hair and eyes, only with a tanned skin like Klaus.

„Those are my sons – Klaus and little Benny”

You explained while giving Fernando a plate full of food.

„They just came back from my brother”

You quickly added, to dispel his thoughts they could hear you two the previosu night. The man sighed relieved and started to eat, from time to time looking at your sons and earning death stares from Klaus.

He didn’t mind you had kids, but started to worry he was just a one night stand before your husband comes back.

Although if that was the case you wouldn’t let him sleep as long as he wanted, feed him and let him meet your children. Nando had no idea what to think anymore, he didn’t want your ‘realtionship’ to end after one night.

Soon a doorbell disturbed his thoughts. A doorbell that was about to start chaos. You left the boys alone to open it and you didn’t manage to say anything before Lando and Carlos burst in.

“Fernando! Where the hell are ya?!”

He could hear their scared voices from the kitchen and chuckled a little. They run into the kitchen after you instrcuted them and sighed.

“God you’re alright! Knew we shouldn’t have left you alone. No offense Y/N. Your manager is going to kill ALL THREE OF US if you won’t be at the track in an hour! He’s been calling you all day but you left your phone in the club!”

Lando blurted out on one breath while Carlos picked the spaniard up and proceeded to push him out of the building. You’ve managed to catch them before they got inside their car and gave Fernando your business card along with a chaste kiss.

“Call me!”

You waved your hand goodbye as you watched them drive away, standing in front of your black castle in nothing more than your long, pitch black robe with feathers and full of hope that he would call.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for ignoring my mom's bf?

Okay so this happened a while ago and my mom has since broken up with the guy so it's super low stakes but it was brought up recently and I was rethinking how I behaved in the situation.

To clarify, my father had been dead for over five years at the time of this story. Ages are at the time of this all happening, I'm now in my 20s.

My mom (46F) met her bf (probably around 46M) when I (16F) was just about 14. I met him, found him to be kind of quiet, and did not have an opinion of him besides being happy to see my mom happy. Two years later, it was decided that he would stay with us in the US long-term. Again, I had only met him once briefly. My sister (18F) was the same, but I think had a slightly worse first impression. She's always been a better judge of character than me.

It immediately didn't go great, my mom was on some trip when he arrived, and so my sister and I were hosting him for about a week before mom came home. We tried to introduce ourselves, give him a tour of the house, etc, but he didn't really interact with us at all. My friend, who is much more charismatic and outgoing than I am, couldn't even get an introduction out of him. All one word responses. Okay, so he doesn't want to be bothered. We lived in a big house, we didn't need to cross paths all that much. It was fine.

Then, my mom came home. And suddenly my sister was the devil's spawn -- it was ridiculous how late she was out, that she was drinking, that she was wearing shorts. My mom and sister didn't have the best relationship, but it had never gotten to the point where they could barely be in a room together before this. (In my mom's home country drinking from a young age is very normal, and my sister was never stupid about her drinking or let her partying affect her school work, if that seems relevant.)

It was obvious that the bf was the one complaining to my mom, who was then going to my sister about it -- he had even yelled at my sister for "dressing inappropriately" directly (it was summer and about 90 degrees, and in the comfort of our own home. She was wearing shorts and a tee shirt that wouldn't even get her dress coded at school. He thought she was "too seductive"). Whenever they fought, he would sleep with my mom. Loudly. My sister's room was right below them, so it was not fun for her.

I was on my sister's side in all this, and my opinion was known but really didn't help much. Most of the arguments seemed to be over normal "rebellious teenage behavior".

(To defend my mom though, she never actually saw her bf treating either of us badly -- besides once and she physically pushed him away from me and seemed ready to hurt him if he didn't leave -- and my sister did have a habit of making shit up to start drama. When she did break up with him later down the line it was for trying to keep her from comforting my sister through a rough patch. It was apparently all very loud and dramatic and she abandoned him in a foreign country in the middle of the night. I already had my own place by then, so I unfortunately missed it.)

Come the end of summer, my sister went off to college and the house was quiet. My mom and I have always gotten along quite well, and in highschool I was always very diligent in informing my mom where I was and when I'd be home, etc. This isn't to say I was a perfect child and my sister was the demon in the house, just that it would be fairly in character for my sister to go out of her way to piss off my moms bf and straight up out of character for me.

So I didn't. I didn't interact or acknowledge him at all. I didn't make eye contact, I "looked through" him if I happened to look in his direction. It was obvious that he didn't like anything my sister did and so I would do nothing. At all.

He started complaining to my mom that I was treating him like a ghost. I reminded my mom that I was not like my sister, and I wouldn't hold a grudge or anything like that. I was just treating him as he treated me. (He also tried the "sleeping loudly" trick on me, as I moved into my sister's room after she moved out. After I also complained, my mom realized that my sister had not been lying about being able to hear it and stopped letting him get away with that. They were still sleeping together, just not Loudly Right Above Me.)

It obviously stressed him out. I don't know the psychology behind it or anything, but I think living in a house with someone who seemingly can't see or hear you must be really awful, because he started to yell at me about anything. (Since I literally wasn't doing anything, he did not manage to get my mom to turn against me like he did to my sister.) I was childish for making food in the kitchen, apparently*. If I needed to use the bathroom at night I was waking him up on purpose (he didn't have a job or any reason to wake up early, like I did with school and my hour walk bc he didn't think my mom should have to wake up to drive me). My panic attacks, obviously, were a direct insult to him specifically.

*I know this seems like I'm not including context, but I literally just made myself a quesadilla, cleaned up, sat down to eat, and he came in to yell at me for being childish. My best guess is I woke him up with the noise? But it was lunch time, so.

I just would continue to ignore him, even while he yelled. Admittedly, if he went on long enough, I would eventually just stare at him, which is what I usually do if someone is angry at me and I don't know what to say.

He eventually left our house because he "felt unwelcome". Good riddance. He did continue to date my mom, but he never visited again while I was there.

I still think that he was "the asshole", and that my mom wasn't great either for staying with him so long despite my sister and I complaining. However, my ignoring him stressed him out in a way that I've never seen someone stressed before or since. I think I was probably escalating it, at least. Tbf though, he never once tried to actually sit down and have a conversation with me. I wouldn't have ignored him if he had.

What are these acronyms?

[adragonsfriend]

CinemaTherapy, Tone Policing, Mace Windu

The CinemaTherapy video on Palpatine contains, I will say it nicely, opinions about the Jedi in general that I disagree with, (I love most of their videos, and their advice on avoiding manipulation in this one is useful and good, I hope it helps people, etcetera) but what I want to talk about is the specific moment where they mention Mace Windu for literally half a second.

At 14:07-14:29, they say, (copying directly from the episode transcript):

Jono: But what Anakin is not mature enough or mindful enough or experienced enough to be aware of, is that he's being steered right, and that Palpatine is doing it deliberately to drive a wedge between Anakin and the people he cares about and who care about him. At least a few of them do. Um, not Mace. Mace. Come on...

Anakin [ROTS clip]: I must go, Master.

Mace [ROTS clip]: No.

Alan: Do better, man.

Jono: Do better, Mace.

I firmly don’t know what explanation there is for this other than tone policing of a black man. Whether it’s CinemaTherapy’s problem specifically, or if they’ve just been drinking the fandom koolaid I don’t know, but it’s a problem either way. Let me explain.

The casualness of the remarks is wild. There is a full eyeroll, and several *theatrically* shaken heads. The transcript does not fully convey how out of place it feels watching it. It's almost to the point where I really want to give the benefit of the doubt and believe it's sarcasm, but the rest of the video does really not support that assumption. (If this is my failure of interpreting other humans, and it was sarcasm, then forgive me, I suppose).

I’m not even sure what aspect of Mace's behavior toward Anakin they’re addressing? The ROTS clip they choose to play of him—presumably an attempt to highlight whatever they’re talking about—is from Mace telling Anakin to stay behind when he's going to face Palpatine.

Of all the moments, if I was ever going to try and construct a “Mace is mean to Anakin specifically narrative,” I would not pick that one? It’s quite literally the chillest interaction they have in all three movies? If I was them, and trying to actually showcase an “Anakin’s doesn’t get enough affirmation or connection from the Jedi,” narrative, I would choose a scene like when Mace says Anakin won’t be trained. At least there you could make a argument that the council’s decision could’ve been explained a bit less bluntly, and that there’s something of a “conversations that adults should be having privately are instead occurring in front of a child” situation.

The casualness of the remark, the “Do better, Mace” and the knowing head shakes, those matter. The way they’re just tossed in, as if every audience member will instantly agree and chuckle at how of course Mace Windu is being mean and rude, they tell the casual Star Wars viewer that this is a universally accepted position, when it is not.

It also supposes the idea that Mace owes Anakin special emotional labor. A relationship therapist might, I don’t know, consider the relationship between Anakin, Mace, and the very relevant context of the interaction before making this judgement? Mace is not one of Anakin’s friends, confidants, or even a member of his lineage. He is, especially in the moment they chose to highlight, the leader of the Jedi Order. Anakin’s boss, to oversimplify, and the leader of Anakin’s people, to say the truth. He’s worried about the fate of the entire galaxy at that specific moment!

And guess what? He’s not even being rude, at all. He’s being direct, that’s it.

If they had chosen to highlight the line, "If what you have told me is true, you will have gained my trust," and talked about Mace not trusting Anakin, I might have been willing to humor this argument out of respect for the relevant textual evidence and for the sake of having some peace. But no, in their own words, this is about, "Anakin and the people he cares about and who care about him." This remark is about care, not trust.

And guess what again? Despite all of the other things he has to think about, Mace is considering Anakin’s feelings here. He isn’t telling Anakin to stay behind because he doesn’t want Anakin to be allowed to participate is the cool fun lethal lightsaber duel. He does it because Anakin is emotionally compromised. Even if you think of the the Jedi as flawed, you cannot think taking Anakin to fight Sidious would be a good, safe, or healthy idea? Would you take the person who you’re just figuring out has probably been groomed for years into a violent confrontation with their abuser?

Mace Windu is doing everything, thinking of everything, and caring about everything in this scene, and yet fans still find fault with him. They still find him insufficient and mean.

Opinions like these are not subtle, they are not cute, and they are deeply influenced by what Mace looks like in relationship to what to what Anakin looks like.

Step back, examine scenes for what actually occurs in them, rather than what larger fandom and larger society tells you is happening in them. This is the core of analyzing and creating art. What do you see in the world that others do not? I beg of you, see Mace Windu for once.

(If I was going harder, I would talk about how I think their very lame opinions of the Jedi are causing them to actually miss some of the depth of Sidious’ manipulation (including leaving out so much as a mention of the scene where Obi-Wan very explicitly tells Anakin he’s proud of him), but again, for the interpretation they’ve decided on their advice seems good, so I’ll leave it alone.)

[mazepunner]

my tmr headcannons

this is a work of disaster i am bringing over from my alarming twitter. my headcannons. all together. enjoy.

while minho runs the maze, he's thinking of everyone back in the glade, individually, and why he needs to keep going for them.

alby once got in a huge screaming match with gally over who should be second in command.

gally has a soft spot for newt and they've accidentally fallen into really deep conversations by the campfire.

when newt did his leg thing alby let him pick which job he wanted.

zart once started a food fight and alby threw him in the pit for wasting food.

ben once knocked a candle over and burned one of the huts down.

gally concussed himself on the job and actually shut up for a week.

chuck once called out for his mum in his sleep and everyone heard but nobody ever acknowledged it.

nobody ever told newt that they'd finished mapping the maze.

gally once got so mad he threw a hammer and alby put him in the pit for a week.

gally was the pit's most frequent visitor.

during an argument at a keeper's meeting, winston once told newt that "not everyone got to pick their jobs" and newt walked out.

winston immediately came out and apologised and there was a bit of crying, some confessions, and hug. from then, winston and newt really saw eachother eye-to-eye.

in ben's legendary hut fire of '85, gally threw his 'trade secret' drink on it and made it much much worse.

still on the topic of the hut fire, alby froze and didn't know what to do, while newt barked orders and managed to get it under control. people called him 'fire chief' for weeks.

jeff hated his job.

newt has insomnia and alby used to stay awake and keep him company as they walked around the glade.

minho used to just come and sit beside newt without saying anything and somehow that meant so much to both of them.

alby swore once and everyone threatened to throw him in the pit.

minho snores.

gally is janson's son or nephew i haven't decided.

when newt started working in the fields everyone came up and either hugged him or gave him a pat on the back and he teared up.

zart once fell on his head while trying to do a cartwheel and everyone thought he was dead until he got up and did another once, successfully, with the others all screaming at him to stop.

alby used to have this little spot in the deadheads where he'd go to have a breather and everyone knew just to leave him alone.

gally got sick once and lost his voice and minho took the opportunity to insult him until he got punched.

newt is gay.

newt had a crush on alby but never ever would have told him ever because he didn't think it was relevant to their situation and nothing would ever come of it.

newt found out he was allergic to sheep when wckd sent one up in the box and he had a sneezing fit every time he walked past it. 

he'd insist he was fine until his eyes swelled up and winston realised what was going on and yelled "kill the sheep!"

gally and newt once got so drunk at a bonfire that they waltzed together.

it ended abruptly when gally tripped and they both almost fell into the fire.

minho and alby caught them and alby yelled at everyone to go to bed.

zart can draw. really really well.

when chuck first arrived he didn't speak for two days.

newt once fell asleep on alby at the bonfire and everyone just let him

they had glade-wide games of hide and seek and it was chaos

ben once ate a bug and was worried he'd get superpowers

gally's excuse for quitting being a runner was that he got bored

if someone's having a rough time, frypan arranges their breakfast into a little picture before giving it to them

alby's scared of mice

newt's double jointed in a lot of ways and it freaks alby out but zart loves it

ben replaced newt as a runner.

chuck once sat in some mud and gally lent him a shirt to tie around his waist to cover it up until he could fix it

when ben replaced newt they both found it hard to talk to each other

and minho literally only talked to ben about running and had no patience for anything else... to begin with

zart kept trying to come up with his own catch phrase and was always cycling through them

frypan gave everyone a safety briefing before they started work in the kitchen, mentioned it to gally once and he started doing the same with the builders

winston always slept in and had to be woken up by alby or newt

gally built the homestead before he had a growth spurt, so all the doorways are too low for him

when thomas got stung, teresa and chuck stayed by his side the whole time

and during that time chuck told teresa that he wanted to see his parents again

newt once said alby's name in his sleep and minho heard and starting laughing so loudly that everyone woke up

ben once sneezed on alby and everyone screamed and ran

gally once tripped on a fence and fell into the pig pen

ben decided he was going to give frypan a night off and cook for everyone. the kitchen caught fire.

there were relationships in the glade but none of them were ever 'public'

on bonfire night frypan always walked around making sure everyone was hydrated and fed and not drinking too much of gally's drink

on bonfire night gally always walked around making sure everyone was drinking too much of gally's drink

clint could sing

jeff could too and sometimes you'd be able to walk past the homestead and hear them harmonising together

ben was by far the most susceptible to gally's drink. by far.

minho was actually a super anxious person but really good at hiding it

for a week the glade had a pet caterpillar

it went missing and zart tried to launch an investigation before alby told him they needed food more than they needed caterpillars

alby remains the prime suspect on zart's list to this day

minho and newt literally ran into each other in the maze once and newt went FLYING

minho was laughing too hard to help him up

alby once called a meeting to put an end to everyone calling each other "bro" because it was "annoying and stopping work from getting done"

minho had started the trend

gally once got so annoyed with everyone that he went and sat in the box

minho checked in on the runners because he didn't want anyone losing hope

for a long time alby was the one who could really make minho smile

when newt and minho met up at the end of their routes, minho would look at newt expectantly, newt would just shake his head and then minho would pat him on the back and they'd run back to the glade in silence

newt used to give chuck his leftovers

alby fell asleep in the homestead during the day once and everyone started placing bigger and bigger items on him until zart tried to balance a table on his head and he woke up

winston really admired alby and wished he could lead as well as him

whenever frypan was sad, he would talk to alby

-there was this running joke that alby shaved every morning because he didn't want anyone to know that he was an old man

newt was initially REALLY shy

approximately 40% of them sang in the showers

frypan made special meals for anyone who'd been in the med shack that day

if anyone left rubbish lying around newt would kick it at them

zart would follow him around picking it up

minho was quietly fascinated by zart

zart was loudly fascinated by everyone

friendship bracelets were a thing for a while, thanks to zart and clint

alby would throw his arm around whoever was nearby

clint's job stressed him out big time but he couldn't imagine doing anything else. it was just really frustrating not having the resources to really help when he needed to.

if newt was in a stroppy mood he'd sit down next to someone and pull his legs up and drape them across that person's lap

in response to that: zart would smile, minho would pay no attention, alby would worry, jeff would start checking his legs over (and newt would try to kick him), and gally would laugh

oh and chuck would hug his legs

chuck secretly wanted to be a medjack but it scared him

there was one person who would always talk to whoever was upset or crying and that person was jeff

when ben and minho ran past thomas and chuck that very first time, they got to the map room and immediately cracked up laughing at thomas' face

alby was actually the best friend in that he would ALWAYS laugh at people's jokes

zart wanted to celebrate when each glader had spent a year in the glade but alby firmly told him no because it wasn't something to celebrate

but zart got frypan to sneak each person an extra helping of bacon at the bonfire when their day came around

when ben got made a runner he just subconsciously started spending all his time with minho. he was just drawn to him, wherever he was. so they ended up spending every minute of every day together.

ben was always the guy who didn't get the joke but laughed anyway

frypan was super perceptive and could always pick up on someone feeling upset or off in any way

chuck subconsciously looked up to EVERYONE. he wanted to be brave like minho, funny like zart (he always laughed at zarts jokes), smart like alby, friendly like winston, caring like newt, loyal like ben, cheerful like frypan, the list goes on

and my point is he didn't see any of this consciously but he took on little pieces of them all every time he spoke to them. they all influenced him like older brothers and helped him to feel at home, one of them.

gally did little things to make everyone feel at home. that thing he said to thomas about being "safe with us" he said to everyone in one way or another. he reminded them that the glade was their "haven" from whatever was out there

i don't believe thomas had a crush on newt "from the moment he saw him" but i think newt mesmerised him a little and once he mentioned being a runner thomas decided he was definitely worth getting to know above anyone else

there was one day when everyone had a turn styling chucks hair around the campfire

winston yells at flies

one day, when newt was sad, minho came up behind him and just starting brushing his hair until it fluffed up

chuck always had clammy hands and was subconscious about it until gally told him it just meant he was working hard all the time

oh and the fluffy hair newt thing, alby was watching and smiling from nearby as newts smile slowly grew too

ben was even more optimistic than zart and that's saying something

and minho went through moments of being SUPER pessimistic like "the world is ending" type stuff and ben would always be like "no i don't think so"

newt was honestly a pretty good runner

^but not in a competitive way, like minho was. he just quietly went out and got the job done really well.

there was a dance move known only as "the zart" and no i won't describe it

when alby cried you KNEW it was serious

they had three banishments before ben's

when newt felt sad he tried to help out more with the animals because it felt good taking care of someone else

alby arrived with a blank book and he kept a journal of every day in the glade.

zart has four aloe vera plants growing up the back of the vegetable garden and he treats them with utmost importance

they grow sunflowers and eat the seeds

gally was the one who taught chuck how to carve the little chuck doll

gally would tell people if they had food on their face

zart has a bad back

the medjacks had a little "how to-" book which was all of the information they'd learned over the years

newt wrote a sassy note in that book when he was in a bad mood one day that basically said "how to piss off newt: leave him in here, alone and bored"

clint drew little doodles around the entries

minho and alby used to have thumb wars

the runners had meetings each week to discuss anything they'd found

clint was really good at opening jars

zart and frypan figured out how to make herbal tea and they always left peppermint tea out on the kitchen bench for when newt couldn't sleep

ben and gally were mates

frypan was by far the best hugger

they all SUCKED at communicating their feelings

except for clint who's an oversharer - lena

they once had a limbo contest and jeff was the winner by far

going way back to the subject of zart being able to draw, he would stay up late drawing by candlelight before bed. and because they didn't have mirrors he drew portraits for everyone so that they could know what they looked like.

and back to the subject of newt not sleeping, sometimes he would sit with zart. zart tried to teach him to draw but newt got frustrated and found it much more relaxing to just watch zart create his magic.

and when newt was in a good mood he'd sit there making requests for zart to draw and zart would always put his own little spin on whatever newt asked for and complicate it.

like one time newt asked him to draw a cat and zart drew a whole forest of animals and hid a cat in one of the trees.

newt, minho and zart had discussions about sexuality together. nothing hugely revelatory like coming out, but enough to feel comfortable with each other and know that they could if they felt the need.

zart and newt both knew the other wasn't straight. minho gave nothing away and just said "i'm down with that" to whatever they were discussing

somewhat related to pride, newt was easily distracted by rainbows

gally became a builder because he wanted a job that kept his hands busy and that he could really keep track of his progress and see his achievements

newt and minho kept each other company whenever they sensed they needed it

one time alby told them all to shut up and go to bed, got in his hammock, it broke and it was so unexpected that nobody knew what to say

then newt quietly went "are you okay?" and zart started laughing

gally got up and silently helped alby fix the hammock before going straight back to bed

minho could keep a secret. and he knew EVERYONE'S secrets because he paid attention.

when thomas arrived they genuinely all thought he'd be a slopper and nobody doubted it

anyone who slept with their shoes on got their laces tied together by minho

once newt went to hug alby and accidentally kissed him on the cheek out of instinct, panicked, and started power walking in the other direction

minho witnessed the whole thing and immediately started crying with laughter

alby had to go after newt and check he was okay without laughing too

newts one of those people who, when he gets angry or frustrated, he tears up. and it just makes him more frustrated to he tears up even more and he hates it because he thinks people won't take him seriously if they notice.

gally and newt both fidget a lot.

oh and so does thomas but like next level fidgeting. he has to be DOING something all of the time or he can't sit still.

alby loved all of the gladers so much so so so much

winston, clint and ben were all left handed

the trackhoes used to have the worst back problems after gardening all day every day, so clint became the resident masseuse

zart used to literally have daily massages

newt always got leaves stuck in his hair

zart always stuck leaves in newt's hair

newt's favourite food was bacon. like he LOVED it and everyone else was like okay mate calm down and newt was like BACON

there was one day that little bouquets of flowers started appearing around the place and everyone knew it was zart but he never admitted to it

when minho wanted someone to know he cared about them he'd give them a little pat on the back

minho used to love taking part in the bonfire nights but as time went on he found them more and more pointless

frypan is one of those people who can really REALLY hold it together for so long. nobody gets to know if he's feeling sad until he breaks down.

alby is surprisingly good at impressions and accents

zart has a love-hate relationship with the goat: it's cute, but it can also completely destroy all of his hard work in the span of an hour

the goat had been put in the pit numerous times before newt suggested that was a bit cruel and they should tie it up outside and release it under supervision instead

newt has the biggest "okay, fuck you" face out of anyone in the glade and it comes out extra strong when he's being mocked (inspired by visro's brain)

and when newt's "fuck you" face comes out, it usually earns him a little ruffling of his hair, courtesy of minho of course

and every time, newt will swat his hand away but every time, he'll also smile

anyway that's enough about newt because clint makes necklaces

gally's biggest priority is making sure the med hut is in good shape and asking the medjacks if they need anything built or replaced

ben is the kinda person to say 'ow' even when something doesn't hurt

gally looks up to everyone (even though he literally doesn't show that ever at all, just believe me)

minho was really REALLY pissed when gally quit being a runner and they had this huge fight that they both never really got over

anyway minho doesn't know what it feels like not to constantly work hard

zart once tried to make alby a wig out of hay. alby wore it once and then didn't stop sneezing for a week

clint takes every decision and outcome to heart and jeff has to talk him down each time

after newts accident jeff forced clint to take a break because clint was convinced he was making the wrong decisions for newt

gally has ocd

they have this whole book of theories for why they're in the maze

alby contributed the least to the book because he was convinced that it didn't matter why they were there

winston was super brainy

somebody made a "caution: wet floor" sign and threw it in the pond

the bonfires were frypan's idea

zart was a big hugger

gally built crutches for newt and sanded them down until they were perfect

at first, newt was convinced he didn't need them but after a stern word from jeff about how hard gally had worked on them, newt gave in

winston is super flexible

whenever anyone's feeling down they eventually end up with a pep talk from alby or newt

gally built board games for when they had to shelter from the rain or rest inside for any reason

zart plays snakes and ladders with anyone who's willing

alby makes a point of talking to every single person on bonfire nights

newt tries to do the same but gally's trade secret recipe often gets in the way of that

because im watching tdc and minho dropping to his knees inspired me: when minho found newt in the maze he skidded to a stop on his knees beside him

when ben got stung minho tried to talk to him for hours because the others all thought he'd be the best one to get info out of him

newt had this big chat to alby about feeling bad for whacking ben in the head when he probably didn't need to and gally poked his head in and reminded newt that ben was trying to kill thomas

and newt took gally's word for it that it was okay because gally had been hit in the head so many times they'd all lost count

okay that's it for now oh my god

that was two years' worth of headcannons

[deke-rivers-1957]

Roustabout Review

Marred by pre-production issues, Roustabout took about 3 years to put out. Announced in 1961, Elvis didn't start filming until March 1964 at 29 years old (well after he stopped playing bad boy characters). This film also had Colonel's influence as he wanted the film to be portray carnival life as a respectable profession.

Made after VLV and Kissin Cousins, this is the last film from Elvis' 2nd Hollywood phase (lighthearted musical comedy travelogues). Does Roustabout have enough of a gritty yet colorful edge to make it enjoyably different, or was it trying too hard to capture a movement and emotion that was no longer relevant? Let's find out.

The titular song "Roustabout" gets us off to a great start. The colored lights are tolerable for those who are photosensitive. The song itself is very enjoyable but I'm not sure if it fits the movie's characterization of Charlie. He's characterized as a ruffian with a chip on his shoulder. I personally recommend looking up "I'm A Roustabout", an alternate opening title song that I think better suited Charlie's character.

So we get introduced to some college kids that only show up for this one scene and I don't like their attitudes. They get all uppity with a waitress who insists on giving them non-alcoholic drinks despite one of them claiming they're all 18 (unless this takes place in Louisiana, states even back in 1964 had the purchase age at 21 to buy alcohol so that argument is moot). The establishment has the right to enforce underage drinking laws, so regardless of their actual age, the waitress has to at least check.

This is the first example of the movie telling us to think one way about Charlie despite showing evidence suggesting otherwise. The college students start heckling him and then get mad when he heckles back. "Poison Ivy League" is an entertaining song that calls out the rich college students and has a unique sound for an Elvis song.

When the song is over, we're made to believe that Charlie is some type of bad boy who picks fights because he's got a chip on his shoulder for being an orphan. That isn't the case at all because Charlie didn't start the fight. Him being an orphan has absolutely nothing to do with this interaction. The college boys started it by making remarks and if you look closely, the one in the blue actually started to swing first. Despite this, Charlie is the only one who gets arrested then gets slapped by the waitress who bailed him out. She's upset that he wouldn't take her with him, when in reality he's not obligated to do anything more than pay her back.

"Wheels On My Heels" is a good song that properly fills in what otherwise would've been dead air. You want to believe that Charlie is content with being on his own as he travels to his next job. However, given the circumstances that lead to this, you still don't get the idea that he's a bad boy. He's acting like a relatively reasonable person that doesn't like getting blamed for things he didn't do.

Which is what makes Joe running off the road so frustrating. Charlie flirts with his daughter, Cathy, and he just completely loses his mind. He verbally stated his intents on killing Charlie, yet still makes it like it was Charlie's fault. What's worse is that, Charlie is forced to work with Maggie and the family until his motorcycle is fixed. Instead of offering to buy him a new bike all together, this family makes like Charlie should be honored to work there as opposed to being held against his will.

We get a walk through of the carnival and I immediately get the idea that Colonel contributed to the script. Cathy uses all this carny talk and then compares it to doctors using Latin because it separates them from the common man. I'm all for wanting to break stereotypes, but Cathy saying this makes her come off as nothing but high in mighty. At least with Cody and the other carnival workers, they have a realistic perspective of trying to take pride in their work despite their low status. It's just a shame none of them show up again to do literally anything. Charlie so far is quite personable and even tries to be nice to Cathy by going on a Ferris Wheel ride singing "It's a Wonderful World." It's a beautiful song with unique tracking shots of the Ferris Wheel moving.

Joe is still unreasonably awful when he's not even the boss. He would literally rather pick on Charlie than accept his half dollar coin for using a ride. We later find out that Maggie is also an irresponsible carnival owner for keeping him employed there. Joe as we learn, was drunk on the job and rigged a ride that ended up killing someone. As a result of not having insurance, Maggie now owes the bank compensation. Instead of doing literally anything, she still insists on keeping Joe employed and only blames herself for letting the insurance lapse. In reality, she'd likely be forced to shut down her business and Joe would definitely be out of a job. There's no way she'd be in business if she kept Joe working there as she'd be complacent in his negligence.

It's the first night of the carnival and while there is business, Cathy simply isn't doing enough to get money at her booth. So what does the bad boy Charlie do? He sings "It's Carnival Time" to attract business on a toy ukelele. Wow that's such a bad boy move /s. Charlie was so bad that he actually manages to earn the carnival a lot of money for that game.

The song itself is still good but I don't think it was lip-synched well. In the shots like this one, Elvis sometimes isn't even moving his lips while he's singing. But ultimately I still buy the idea of using him to attract customers since his songs are entertaining. If only the movie also properly utilized the Wall of Death since we know Charlie is a motorcycle rider.

We get a double header of "Carny Town" and "Hard Knocks" which both do a good job of entertaining the crowd. In the meantime, we get an introduction to the so called "villain" of the movie. Harry Carver is meant to be this no good carnival owner that buys out dying businesses. However, given what we know so far about Maggie and co. I don't hate this man at all. Maggie has shown that she's unwilling to get rid of Joe despite him actively being cruel to other workers, while Harry Carver actually comes off as a reasonable man who just wants to provide the highest quality entertainment possible.

When Charlie's show ends up being a success, Joe still can't even have the guts and admit that he was wrong. He still thinks Charlie is the bad guy here. So of course when Charlie is still salty about the damages Joe caused, Cathy is mad at him for being ungrateful when Maggie gave him a new guitar. Do you see how messed up that is for Cathy to not only defend her father's awful actions, but then have the gall to get mad at Charlie like he's the heel? I'm sorry but the movie is actively trying to gaslight its audience into think Charlie's this bad boy when in reality Charlie's the victim. I just can't support this downright unreasonable and unlikeable family.

At Charlie's next show we get "One Track Heart" and it's one of the best songs in the movie for how entertaining it is. That being said, I have no idea why Charlie changes his mind out of nowhere when he signs Maggie's contract. Nothing we've seen indicates any major change in his status there. This is where not giving his relationship with the other male carnies any development, really hurts the movie. It just feels like the script is forcing Charlie into this instead of naturally establishing reasons to make him change his mind. That's bad storytelling where you're telling us this is what needs to happen as opposed to showing us how Charlie grows.

Cathy also comes off as being super unlikeable by getting mad at Charlie for so much as being with Estelle, the fortune teller. They are not dating and she didn't even tell Charlie how she felt. Charlie is not at all obligated to stay loyal to her. She just comes off as high and mighty like Charlie should never dare have affections for another woman and it's very annoying. I just don't get any chemistry from these two at all and it's another aspect of the story that just feels forced.

After signing the contract with Maggie, Cathy is seen running the dunk tank with Joe and my god do we get the most obnoxious couple I've ever seen in my life. This couple actually makes me feel bad for Joe when they accuse him of stealing their wallet when they have been nothing but a nuisance and started a fight with Charlie. Then again, this family gets mad at Charlie having dared feel concern over Cathy's wellbeing. I was so mad at Cathy when she slapped Charlie because I have no idea why I'm supposed to get at someone who just wants to help. How I'm supposed to like anyone in this family over Harry Carver when they've all treated Charlie as nothing but dirt?

Estelle the fortune teller and Cathy are just awful love interests. They wanna make like they're interested in Charlie, but just when Charlie shows interest back, they get all disgusted. That's not a bad boy. A bad boy wouldn't listen to Cathy when she says she's not a one night stand type of girl. Like Estelle gets mad at Charlie even though she was the one who wanted him to have sex with her. It comes off as these women being so flakey and unlikeable as opposed to Charlie actually being wrong for pushing.

So he finds the wallet and like a good friend decides that Joe needs time to get sober. The next morning, he gets his bike back and is about to leave when he sees the Wall of Death. In a scene that absolutely serves no purpose outside of wasting time before the big reveal, Charlie tries his hand at it. Once he had his fun, Charlie tells Maggie and the other carnies that he found the man's wallet last night. As rational, reasonable people, every single person gets mad at Charlie for betraying Joe. They think Charlie was a heel for having dared think it was a good idea to keep a drunk man in jail longer than he should've been.

I just can't stand any of these people. Charlie actively tries to keep an absolutely terrible person in jail just long enough to sober up and HE'S THE BAD GUY! I think everyone in this carnival is insane. The colonel wanting to make this a specially coded business with rules ended up making this a straight up cult. If you don't drink the kool aid and support your fellow carny no matter how much of a horrible person they are, you're the bad person. I want this carnival to fail and go out of business because of how awful they are. That's a complete failure on the writers part to just completely fumble the ball when making Charlie this "bad boy" who has to change his ways. I want Charlie to get as far away as possible from these people.

Charlie of course signs with Harry Carver and I refuse to believe he's supposed to be the bad guy like the movie wants to make him. He's an actually reasonable man who runs a far superior business. This is a whole theater with numerous performers providing a quality show. However, "Little Egypt" is by far the weakest song in the movie. I hate the sound effect used as it hurts my ears and is completely unnecessary. It ruined what would've otherwise been an absolute banger and a good reason to believe that Charlie is a good performer.

We see Maggie's carnival and of course it's failing. It's almost like they didn't realizing casting Charlie out would have consequences. Cathy and Estelle talk and despite literally watching her kiss Charlie multiple times, Estelle says "she didn't even get to first base". I have never seen a movie completely mess up on its own continuity this badly. It gives you this feeling of anxiety that you're being gaslight as the movie tells you one thing despite being shown something completely different. We never once see Charlie use anyone like Estelle says he did and it's completely ridiculous.

I love "Big Love, Big Heartache". It's the quintessential Elvis ballad but if Charlie had an actual character arc this is the perfect way to show that he actually does love Cathy. It's such a shame that he doesn't have any character arc at all. Cathy just shows up because she wants to manipulate Charlie into coming back and he does. I think Charlie is absolutely insane for leaving a legitimately superior job for an actually toxic work environment. Based on what we're shown, no one at Maggie's carnival is likable enough to make Charlie want to be there.

I honestly feel bad for Harry Carver because he's a reasonable man who actually cares about his business. He even cares about Charlie being in love with Cathy and tries to give him advice. Charlie just gives him the shaft because we're near the end and this has to have a "happy" ending where Maggie's carnival is saved.

This is the most forced ending I've ever seen in an Elvis movie. Absolutely nothing is earned here. Absolutely nothing in this movie was properly developed as we're introduced to things like Charlie being an orphan and the wall of death only to have neither of those things matter. It's not like Loving You where Deke being an orphan actually matters as he learns how to heal and accept that he's good enough to have friends. With the Morgans you can't help but think this is the most unlikeable family you've ever seen. It's so badly written that the only way you can make sense of it, is to come up with the conspiracy theory that Joe is abusive towards both of them. It would other wise make zero sense for Maggie or Cathy to defend Joe.

Charlie can't accept the Morgans as his family because despite "There's A Brand New Day On The Horizon" telling us things are going to get better, I just don't think it will. Joe didn't have his epiphany and realizes Charlie is a good guy. Joe only accepts Charlie coming back because it's the end of the movie and the script tells you that he does. It's all so forced and I have no reason to believe Joe will get better. A complete mess of a story that is absolutely frustrating to watch.

I said in my Clambake review that it was the hardest film to develop a solid opinion on whether I liked it or not. Roustabout to me is like a Clambake but in reverse. Clambake had bad production and some bad songs but had the best character writing I've seen in a mid 60s Elvis movie so far. Roustabout meanwhile had good production and an amazing soundtrack (outside of the sound effect used in Little Egypt.) but the worst character writing I've ever seen in an Elvis movie.

Since the writing is the worst part of the movie that singlehandedly ruined my ability to enjoy it, I have to give it 5/10. This movie's production and soundtrack just wasn't enough overcome the failures of basic story telling. I personally didn't vibe with it so I can't say I'd recommend it but if you're someone who only watches Elvis films for the songs or doesn't care as much about the writing, then I think you would have a great time.

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

AN: Thank you @xanatenshi for requesting this review as well as @thedaisymaisy for providing input about the film. If anyone wants to send a request, feel free to send it in.

Tagging: @lynettethemadscientist, @motht-eeth, @ash-omalley, @spooky-hazex, @teamnefarious, @blighted-star, @ab4eva, @oh-my-front-door, @father-of-2cats, @stormie-ryan23, @yksuwyksud, @tacozebra051, @alienelvisobsession, @vintageoldsoul, @ohmygiddd, @lovininapinkcadillac, @stephthestallion, @mistyspresley, @bisexualwvtson, @ahundredlifetime, @karel-in-wonderland, @elvispresleywife, @georgefairbrother, @moonchild-daniella, @musiclover712, @worldofyns, @sillybookmarks, @g00d2balive, @leighpc, @generoustreemystic, @peskybedtime, @thetaoofzoe, @renegadewarrior, @vintagepresley, @tupelomiss, @myradiaz, @pinkcaddyconfessions, @kiankiwi, @presley72elvis, @delulubutidontcare, @januarypresley1969, @livelaughelvis, @all-hookedup-on-elvis, @slayingjd, @ilivebecauseiamforced, @dusintv, @cattcb, @jaqueline19997, @richardslady121, @iloveelvis2, @lett-them-eatt-cake @if-i-can-dream-of-elvis and @lookingforrainbows.

[animentality]

Your hot take on the boys and invincible kinda piss3d me off, not cause I totally disagree, but only because superhero media as a whole is lazy. Specifically for these two, though? The boys isn't just evil superman, it's corporate owned supervillainy, vigilantes who don't have powers, and yeah the shock value gets too much sometimes but like clearly you haven't seen it. And invincible is about a kid (son of superman) who is betrayed by his idol and forced to fight him and lose. Maybe don't judge so quickly!!

What, I have to watch the entire show to judge it?

That would necessitate that I take time out of my day to watch something that I don't like.

And if I watched the entirety of both, and still hated it, you'd tell me I shouldn't watch things I "hate" and I should just leave you and your dumb opinions alone.

So we're discarding that part of your argument because it's pointless.

oh wait.

but that's your entire argument.

hm.

well.

ok. let's talk anyway.

so first off. you just said that superhero media as a whole is lazy.

that's quite a generalization to make about a genre.

I don't disagree but you're giving me shit for saying deconstructions of super hero movies are worse, to me personally, than super hero movies themselves, when you just made a blanket opinion statement disguised as a fact.

Think about that for a second.

Then I wanna talk about the whole "it's about politics" and "subversion of superman" schtick.

you're telling me that the boys is about politics, and invincible is an alien invasion story.

yet neither of those things need to be told through a superhero angle. they just are because of the superhero hype justifying their existence in the market.

and that's fine and all... but to me that's what they are.

gimmicks based on what was hot at the time, which was super heroes.

so they don't exist without the superhero genre to make fun of. they don't have relevance except by being reactionary.

and that's a lame selling point for me.

super hero movies have been dying lately, and frankly, I didn't even know invincible had a season 2 until I saw invincible had popped up on fortnite.

and even then I didn't see anyone talking about it, aside from the shock value of the rape scene.

but don't worry. we'll get to that.

as for the boys, well, I don't know, it could last for some time... but do deconstructions that wallow in misery and mega angst and are highly topical based on the year they were released really stand the test of time?

I don't know. we'll see.

all I know is that no one anticipated the fall of marvel after the success of Endgame...

but look at it now.

The Marvels, Antman 3, Madame Web... the lackluster performance of DC...

if you look back at the boys 50 years from now, what will you see?

a satire of the Justice League.

but it's not something on its own.

at least watchmen, as garbage as it is, has unique characters and a weird, but mildly interesting take on history.

the boys is like oh what if there was a world where superheroes existed and they killed people?

yeah that'll stand the test of time I'm sure.

Spiderman has lasted this long because he's relatable. He was the prime example of a changing genre, that allowed its heroes to be more down to earth.

Batman has his gothic detective thing, and you can tell so many stories with him, as he's just an ordinary man, who's also coincidentally a huge freak at the same time. what's not relatable about that?

And even Superman... oh, so he's boring because he's a good person?

yeah. sure. I don't particularly like him. I don't think he's that deep.

but his popularity did come from the basic idea that people should be good to each other.

what is the average jackass going to learn or remember from the boys?

oh that homelander likes drinking breast milk.

gee, that's relatable.

also that the deep fucked an octopus.

because haha... Aquaman, am I right?

so.

now let's move on to shock value.

It sucks.

the boys is made for people who hate super heroes.

it's fine to hate super heroes, but Jesus Christ.

you hate them so much that you make them edgy. you make them rapists and mass murderers. you make them do nasty shit just because you wanna make someone vomit.

like. ok.

I don't like shock value in anything, not even horror movies.

if there's no plot reason for it, then I don't want to see it.

but the boys is all about throwing in sex scenes wherever they can, and making them as fucking weird as they can just because "oh we're not marvel."

yeah. I know that. even marvel pretends to have a story from time to time.

the boys literally starts off with a fucking 90s ass rape revenge story. like seriously?

so revolutionary ahahaha.

with a guy who fucks animals.

and is meant to be sympathetic later on because he's pathetic.

soo soooo deep.

good rape revenge plot.

reminds me of the misogyny of blade runner, and the director saying well I'm objectifying women because sexism exists in real life.

gee thanks, guy.

forgive me if I was turned off by a show that immediately sexually assaulted its main female character.

I'm a triggered snowflake, hahah, you got me.

but when I look at all this, it's like...

I never got into game of thrones because I never liked the mega edge lord plot of that either.

but at least game of thrones was doing something different with a genre, rather than just making a satire or parody of the genre.

it stands on its own.

the boys relies entirely on shock value and superheroes having sex in depraved ways.

it might have some valid political commentary somewhere in its messy gory insides, but nothing I couldn't get, and much better, from the Wire.

[mantispire]

I’d love to hear your Ironqrow headcanons!

I have like an entire barbie dreamhouse with these characters in my head so I have legitimately hundreds... here are a few that might be the most interesting/whatever... I'm sort of shy about sharing this stuff. Laugh

I think they met back during the Vytal tournament and faced off in their one/one match. Qrow won + they kept contact over the years.

They have a /lot/ of really rough patches + a history of really bad arguments, usually hinging on Ozpin and his decisions/ their own stresses as a scout/headmaster/general/ the million other things Jame and Qrow both deal with over the years + both of their entire separate PTSDs

During the 'events of canon' ( v 1-3-> ) they're divorced and hadn't really spoken in years. I think they were married for a sort of comically brief time but it was a nightmare due to aforementioned ^ issues. They're both stubborn and have a lot of disagreements so I don't think the marriage was able to last + everyone around them knew it.

I headcanon that when they were most stably together ( like late 20's/early 30's? I need to figure out The Ironqrow Timeline in my head but that requires a lot of exploration I'm too tired to do right now ) that they tried to have a kid together. It didn't work out + both of them have a lot of feelings about it that stuck around even as they get older

Qrow ended up spending a lot of time away from James / away from Atlas especially while he had to help Taiyang raise the girls after Summer died. This didn't help their really patchy relationship -- just a lot of both of them being pulled apart by life's events.

Qrow was there with James ( as best as he could be ) as he underwent the years-long process of healing from the "paladin incident" -- lots of waiting with bated breath during surgeries and sitting at James's bedside and helping him through physical therapy etc etc etc. He was drinking at this time though and spends a lot of time regretting that he wasn't 'there' more, even though James just remembers Qrow's love and how faithfully he'd been there for him through a /lot/ of humiliating and horrible moments

I like to imagine ( in my dollhouse. This isn't relevant to canon at all. ) during v7/ Qrow's return to Atlas they start to patch things up, sort of mentally returning to the place they were when they met: one of mutual appreciation, slowly starting to undo a lot of their interpersonal problems and finding that ease and comfort with eachother once again that they'd lost. Like they come back to the metaphorical dusty empty home they left and start to clean things up. I think James would be a really big instrument in Qrow's stopping drinking and would have helped him through the process both physically and mentally. I just think they would slowly start to ease into one another, so much older now but also healed in a lot of ways. The world wont have been any better but they've both been through so much and can finally find that comfort in each other.

Qrow misplaces James's favorite fountain pen without thinking and James spends the whole day looking for it because he can't function without the specific pen he needs to use. Qrow returns it with an apology at the end of the day because he realized he'd accidentally put it in his pocket. James is just happy /he/ didn't leave it somewhere and it didn't get damaged or anything.

Sorry these got sort of serious... a lot of the silly ones are pretty contextual and small. but this is my ironqrowverse. I hope this all makes sense... thanks for reading, if anyone survived my rambling. LOL

[mdhwrites]

The Good of Penacony

I said I wanted to make a blog about the positive elements of Penacony and I meant it, especially since I really enjoyed the new content pretty much until after the first new boss. Some of what came after makes it hard for me to still enjoy what came before but there is plenty of good still, even in this main content.

So, of course, Star Rail 2.0 Spoilers ahead.

So a LOT of what's good is centered around Firefly. For as much as in my original blog I railed against her death, she is this bad trope done EXCEPTIONALLY well. Her scene on the rooftop is the best in all of Star Rail, hands down. Not only that but she doesn't feel like a cinnamon meant to die. She has a real personality, can be distrusting, isn't a complete airhead, still had her own secrets until she died and her own motives and desires. As far as Star Rail characters go, she is genuinely one of the best.

It's why her death hurts so much. I see people trying to joke about it and it causes twinges in my chest. I see people celebrating her and feel joy about it. She is a character who I'm really unhappy to have gone. If the writing was truly just bad, this wouldn't have happened.

A large part of what helps in all of this is that during the time you spend with her, the game drops the mysteries, mostly, and drops its pretensions to genuinely be fun. Instead, it is enthusiastic about its setting in a way we haven't been before. Firefly truly, genuinely loves the dream of Penacony and has a good reason to since it's the only place she can truly live now. She makes the biggest argument anyone could for why the dream must stay. Why it would be such a tragedy for it all to collapse.

I think the time with Sampo is really the only lull with the time with her. 'Sampo' isn't bad mind you. Sparkle may be no fun, part of why I don't like her, but while pretending to be a fun character she gives some good chances to snark and some good jokes. She also introduces neat mechanics and while the Tatalov stuff is entirely pointless, it's a fine distraction. It helps sell the absurdity of dreams.

The dungeons help in this regard too. The dreamscape that's being worked on is majestic and the bird's eye view you have to take to traverse it only helps you drink in the grandeur to this new addition to Penacony. The shooting stars like streaming fireworks are awe inspiring and Firefly is just the cutest little thing with each and every one that you do with her. It's honestly the first time that our party has truly helped add to the atmosphere of a dungeon.

This isn't as true for the Child Dreamscape but that's okay as now we descend into the uncertainty and horror of dreams. This is also part of Penacony's strength from a design perspective. I never felt like the Loufu really supported its own themes too well, nor enhanced its storytelling, with its dungeons. You go through too bland, faceless of environments for that. Penacony is entirely different. The enemies, world design and even how you traverse are genuinely trying to work in parallel with what they're trying to go with for the concept of the planet.

And man... Something Unto Death is a masterfully designed boss. My brother and I were assuming that if Sam was the boss that made sustainers shine (which kind of is true. Sam is awkward as far as a boss fight goes and I'm curious what consensus on him will be) then Unto Death would be the boss for multi-DPS teams. That it was anti-hyper carry.

Which, arguably, it still is. It still wants you rocking at least two DPSes but specifically MULTI target DPSes. Erudition isn't completely the king here though. Because they're starting to acknowledge DoTs as still dealing damage, it's really the Nihility boss and I like that there is one in main content that is specifically weakest to that group. DoT teams struggle after all in the current DPS test focused end game content and having a boss that makes them feel more relevant is a great addition.

Also, I will shout out that despite the fandom thinking the era of Hunt is over, Sam currently appears to be best fought against with Hunt characters. Their speed helps them keep up with Sam, their ults chunking so much weakness off of him is extremely useful if you don't want to have to burn down your own health to get him out of his super state and their overall extremely high damage even outside of ults against this single target mean they can make him suffer the hardest. For as much as I think the Sam fight currently feels like a giant slog, and I worry what a phase 2 and 3 will look like with him, I still respect what they're trying to do with him. If arguably Argenti is a better version of the Yanqing fight though, I'm excited to see what the better Sam fight is.

And there's still plenty of other characters I do like. Gallagher was great in his brief appearance. Misha is adorable and I'm sad we're not getting a companion quest with him. Black Swan might be an idiot right at the end but she is the most competent manipulator amongst the cast of manipulators and at least when she tells me that she's doing it for good reasons, I actually believe her. Heck, I even liked when I first met Aventurine. It's genuinely a problem for me that he's being built up to be the super cool hero of this story next to us that makes me dislike him so much because nothing about his previous appearances sold him that way. An idiot who has gotten too much power, too quickly, and is used to relying on his status getting shut down because he's finally having to deal with people with real power and skills though? I was excited for that with his first couple appearances.

I genuinely really want to like Penacony. The fact that so many things took a step up (I didn't even mention how while the elites might be easy, I think their gameplay and visual designs are amazing) is a really great thing that helped add to the possibility space to the writing. It even started trying to ape Shakespeare by trying to tell us how the story would go from the beginning.

It's just... Nothing about the patch has me excited for where it goes except for the potential for Firefly to come back. Not from the main story at least. That's just a real shame, especially after I actually did manage to get on the hype train for Penacony. I don't usually get to do that.

The last note I'll leave on is my theory for Acheron: If she is an emanator, she is the Emanator of Nihility. She brings things to an end but more importantly for this: She herself is constantly being emptied out. Her lack of memory? Her ability to get lost so easily? Those come from parts of her mind literally being consumed by her nature. It would also explain why she potentially might not know she's an emanator (that's speculation) but also be why she reacts to you the way she does. Not enough of HER is there to not be affected and changed by how you treat her and the emotions you put out. Hence the red text that changes for different players.

And I'll admit that I am excited to see if I'm right. Acheron is probably my favorite Penacony character currently who is still alive and I'll still be pulling on her banner (after it took 160 pulls for Black Swan *sobs*). I just hope Penacony improves, leans more into the dream rather than the mystery and honestly that for a while, Star Rail just stops trying to do mysteries because I don't think they're good at it. Ratio's continuance sucked for it and the thin veneer of it here is dragging everything down.

And that's a shame when so much of it is so high.

======+++++======

For those who want to see me being angrier about it, and talking about how terrible both Firefly and Robin's deaths are, you can find that blog over here. That was admittedly done with a lot more emotion than this blog was but I still stand by it for the most part.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[westworldparty19]

Rewatching one of my favorite TOS episodes: Is there in truth no beauty?

Only 2 mins in and had to pause to laugh because!! They spend that time establishing that Anbassador Kollos’ form is so ugly that it drives humans mad and even Vulcans have to wear a visor.

Spock then beams up a beautiful woman and a box and he greets the woman: “Ambassodor Kollos, it is an honor to meet you”

And she goes… “I’m Dr. Jones.” And then indicates that the box is Kollos…

Spock is really out here soooooo obviously not attracted to women that he assumes that the beautiful beautiful Dr. Jones is a hideous monster!

Ok then it’s revealed that Spock was offered the position Dr. Jones is auditioning for but he turned it down bc “my life is here”

Sorry but season 3 Kirk and Spock are so together there’s no way around it.

Okay!! Miranda (Dr. Jones) is soooooo Spock of Christmas future coded. To a point but I’m sure the argument Kirk makes when he’s honey potting her in the garden is very similar to one he might use to get spock to not do kolhinar. Both dark hair, striking features, beautiful in an intriguing way, extremely intelligent, don’t fit in with either of the cultures fully because of stigma associated with genetic features, Kirk immediately tries to flirt…

This is a “spirk on a date” episode just like trouble with tribbles but more serious

Back to the honey pot in the garden…Kirk is there to distract Miranda from Spock melding with Kollos. She is distracted until he lets her get a little personal and then she immediately figures out what Spock is planning. (This is sooo similar to in TMP when Spock is mentally saying goodbye to Kirk and then Kirk’s consciousness reaches out across the universe.) He tries to keep her there but then she says it’s too dangerous for Spock to do and Kirk let’s go right away and they leave to help Spock

Omg and then Spock accidentally looks at Kollos without protection and goes crazy and can only be saved by Miranda but Kirk and Bones don’t think she’ll help bc she’s so jealous and bones says maybe she will help bc they weren’t rivals in love (he means for the love of kollos) but the whole ep Kirk is flirting with Miranda AND with Spock so they kinda are. And then Kirk says probably the cruelest things he ever says to her to guilt her/snap her back to reality to help Spock and she does. He’s basically driven insane by his need to save Spock (as per usual)

I just love this episode so much. I especially love the direction and the music. I think the music is unique to the episode which is really rare and the director takes a lot of chances with interesting shots (he does a lot of wide angle pov). We get to see the bridge from a different angle which is really cool and there’s one shot of Miranda where it’s like a quick zoom in that I like. And the blocking is pretty interesting in a few scenes too like kirk and co marching down the hall to see if Kollos has been hurt.

The shrew bit is a bit tired of course but I think the payoff here is much better than in Elaan of Troius. They don’t necessarily “tame” Miranda as the resolution is for her to accept she is in love with Kollos and that he loves her too in the way that he can, and the crew learns that she is capable of a great deal more than they can image when they previously considered her blindness to be a great detriment.

Also the other relevant guest of the week is one of the designers of the enterprise and Scotty is so smitten with him lmao. He’s so excited to meet the guy and just wants to hang out and drink and take about engineering.

Shatner looks sooo good in this ep too. Toupee is the perfect length imo.

Miranda’s costumes are gorgeous, definitely ranking in top 5. Her hair too.

We get IDIC introduced for the first time and even tho it was a ploy by Roddenberry to sell merch, the concept is really interesting and does develop the lore of Vulcan quite a bit

Ugh when Kollos joins with Spock he talks about how lonely people are when they are cut off from each other (telepathically) and then Kirk tells him it’s time to end the meld. To me in my spirk brain worms brain, that indicates that Kirk and Spock have a mind link established and that they had to “unplug” when Spock melds with Kollos, which is why Kollos feels that Spock is so alone and Kirk ends the meld so promptly lol.

Ralph Senesky is definitely my favorite TOS director, I wish he did more!

[elendiliel]

A Very Civil War

This idea has been buzzing around my head for a while, but seeing this post catapulted it up the priority list. (Yes, I know that's a mixed metaphor, but I don't know how to unmix it.)

---

Ratchet knew something was different about his Energon ration the moment he picked it up, and it took him less than another moment to figure out what it was. While the colour and consistency of his fuel were unchanged, its weight had slightly but significantly increased, and the liquid level had perceptibly risen, since he dispensed it. Someone had topped it up while his back was turned, and it wasn’t hard to guess who that person was. Only two other people had access to the Energon storage logs and would therefore know about his ration situation, and Optimus would never do anything so underhanded – not to one of his own team, anyway. That just left…

Sure enough, when he looked down at the occupant of the seat beside him, he met the steady, unwavering, utterly unrepentant gaze of his new second. Despite the discomfort he knew prolonged eye contact caused her, Glitch maintained it even while taking a sip of her own fuel, daring him to say something. (Instead of depleting the team’s limited Energon supply, the visitor from another universe was making do with Earth fossil fuels, which she could apparently process just fine in moderation. Ratchet had asked her once how she could drink the stuff; she had made a face and replied, “Reluctantly, and carefully. In excess, motor oil is an intoxicant for us, and there isn’t exactly much of me.” There certainly wasn’t; she was barely twice the height of an average human and slender with it, which had necessitated several modifications to their base’s furniture and the construction of a new medical berth that she could reach without standing on anything.)

He couldn’t resist that stare for long; could anybody? But he didn’t have to put up with her tampering with his fuel. “I don’t need this much.”

“Yes, you do. I know you don’t go out in the field much, which I still don’t understand but that’s an argument for another day, but you use your processor, your tools and your hands all the time, not to mention wrangling some pretty sizeable patients. All of that needs Energon. Which is why I’ve logged increased fuel intake as an official prescription for you.” Of course she had.

“I can overrule that,” he pointed out. He was the senior medic.

“Try it and I’ll set Prime and Raf on you. Maybe Magnus as well.” That was a battle Ratchet knew he’d lose. He could, after much practice, cope with Optimus’ gentle persuasion and occasional guilt-trips on their own and for good reasons, but when combined with Rafael’s pure, open compassion and concern and Ultra Magnus weaponising every relevant rule and procedure in the book, they would be irresistible. Better try another angle of attack. “All right, maybe a slight increment would be acceptable, but I certainly don’t need a full ration.”

“That isn’t a full ration,” Glitch countered. “You’ve been starving yourself for decades, so your system wouldn’t cope with that sudden increase. I planned to add a bit more each time, as much as was safe, hoping you wouldn’t notice. One gamble that didn’t come off, clearly.” She smiled up at him, and he knew he’d lost the battle. “We need you running at a hundred percent. For your own sake, not just because you’re our senior doc-‘bot.”

Well, he wasn’t going to surrender without a fight, and she’d given him an opening. “I am the senior medic of this team, which means I know we don’t have enough Energon for everyone. Not for any long period of time, and certainly not at our usual rate of injuries.”

“Then one of us has got our sums wrong,” she fired back. “Or we’re using different data. Factoring in my presence,” there wasn’t a hint of arrogance in that phrase; it was simply a statement of fact, “and assuming the current trends in Energon acquisition continue, there’s more than enough of a margin to let you stop short-changing yourself. I don’t run on your Energon, but I can protect our teammates in the field,” as she had both a shield mod and medical tools that could be re-deployed as secondary shields, “and patch up the injuries I can’t prevent right then and there. All things being equal, that cuts down fuel consumption past the point where you definitely don’t have to starve yourself. Skies above, I see why you and Prime are Amicae. You’re as bad as he is sometimes.” She didn’t mean to be insulting, Ratchet knew, and his oldest friend did have a tendency to put himself – and only himself – in harm’s way too often for comfort.

But if that wasn’t the racer calling the turbofox fast… “I suppose that is a hazard of our profession.” He looked meaningfully at the scar on Glitch’s upper chestplate, which he knew to be a memento of a Decepticon ambush in which she had protected her partner almost at the cost of her own spark.

“True,” she conceded. “How d’you think I know how to spot someone on starvation rations? Or how to do this?” She indicated Ratchet’s still-untouched Energon. “Holdover from boot camp. Our drill sergeant sometimes docked someone’s rations when he wanted to get creative with punishments.” Ratchet winced slightly. Such behaviour would not be acceptable under Optimus’ authority. “I thought I didn’t need as much as the others, so I’d just top theirs up with mine when they weren’t looking. Even when that wasn’t the case, the standard ration was plenty for a two-wheeler but not quite enough for a construction model like Bulk, so I’d give him a little extra when I could.” The corners of her speech synthesiser twitched up in a brief smile. “Heh, no wonder he was the only one who clocked what I was doing. Anyways, I didn’t realise how much of an effect that was having until after our three worst troublemakers had left. Suddenly I wasn’t nearly so snappish and started doing better on every type of exercise. Not much better, I’ll admit, probably because I was still staying up late reading.” She gave Ratchet an uncomfortably thoughtful look as she took another sip of oil. “Speaking of, once you’ve finished that, I strongly recommend you get some proper rest as well. Or there might be more than extra Energon in your next ration.”

Ratchet primed his voicebox and synth to say, “You wouldn’t,” but he knew she would. She was just as stubborn as him or Optimus, a very direct problem-solver, and quite possibly missing one or two blocks of ethical code. And he also knew Optimus was worried enough about him to back her up – as Magnus also would. Besides, it would be pleasant to power down properly for a while, trusting her to hold the fort, and to take the edge off the symptoms of Energon deprivation he had been resolutely ignoring for so long. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t go back to a reduced intake when her back was turned. Conceding defeat and ending their very civil war (for the time being), he finally picked up the doctored fuel and began to drink. As a broad grin spread across her face, he found he didn’t mind losing that battle. (Much.)

[the-hero-story]

Because the html formatting doesn't work on mobile (not even on a browser, I checked), I'm posting the whole story here too :)

We were married in the spring. 

No one liked the idea of a spring wedding, least of all my husband, who complained about it as we drove away from the cathedral. It was rotten in Moscow in April, and worse in Petersburg, where the snow hadn’t even begun to melt. I had wanted the wedding at Voronetskoye, the old estate, the lynchpin of our world, but my husband refused: staying in Moscow would be impractical, and God forbid, unfashionable. Because it was his reputation at stake, and not mine, I agreed. 

That summer, after our honeymoon in Paris, we came back to Russia and met my father at Voronetskoye. My father worked in Petersburg, but since my mother died he spent most of his time at the estate, reading and drinking. It was a beautiful place to grieve, a manor surrounded by acres of lush green fields. We arrived in the evening, with an hour to spare; my father’s carriage waited for us at the station. 

If there was any time when the estate looked most perfect, it was, perhaps, evening in early summer. I never looked forward to these trips, yet whenever I came to Voronetskoye I felt as if I was returning home after many years away. It was always frozen in time, fading family portraits hanging on the walls and old heirlooms hiding under canopied beds. My father hadn’t wanted to make it a time capsule; the time had just passed, and the dust had eaten away at everything it could find. 

My husband hated it there. Whenever he left Petersburg he was like a sailor on land. He needed the city air: it was fast, it was relevant, there was always something to do. 

“We’ll go back Saturday,” he had said on the train to Moscow, pinching his mustache as he liked to.

“Father asked us to stay the week. We talked about it earlier today, Vasya. Please, just this one time — you know how lonely he is down there.”

“The man doesn’t own you.”

“Neither do you.” 

Vasily rolled his eyes. “It’s exactly this kind of talk that makes me—”

At that moment the attendant came through with the baby, and we dropped the argument. 

When we got to the manor, it was empty and silent, practically deserted. For a minute, as I climbed the double staircase, suitcase in hand, I thought my father had died. Then I heard my brother’s voice, coming from the drawing room. 

“Kitty,” he called, that old familiar sneer.

“Where’s Father?”

“Upstairs.” Alexis emerged in the doorway, his pale face framed by a mess of black hair. He was flushed, dressed hastily in his robe. “I thought you were in Petersburg.”

“We were. Don’t you have a concert tonight?”

He pulled his lighter from his pocket and took out a cigarette, tapping it against the gilded lid. “Postponed.” The flame flashed before his face, and he took a long drag, looking off towards the corner. “I was practicing all day,” he mumbled. “Had no idea you were coming. 

I knew what his days consisted of. Since he’d been expelled from military school two years ago, he had taken up a career as a pianist. He was a genius at the piano, there was no denying it, but he spent most of his time in bed, God only knows with whom. 

“Isn’t he cute?” he said, gesturing to the baby, who was swaddled in cotton on Vasily’s shoulder. “What’s his name?”

“Maria,” I said. “It’s a girl.”

My brother blushed.

“Father didn’t mention anything to you?” I asked, taking my suitcase and walking towards the stairs. “He wrote to us a month ago.”

“He’s probably forgotten about it by now.”

“Alyosha, he’s been through hell. Try to understand.”

My brother shot a grimace in my direction. “Your room’s in the west wing, isn’t it? Right, I’ll be in the drawing room. Holler if you need anything. I think Father’s in his study — you can go knock if you want.”

Shutting the door behind me, I put my suitcase at the foot of the bed. 

“God, that boy is insolent,” Vasily said, gazing out the musty windows. “Any idea what he did to get himself kicked out of the Cadet Corps?”

“Vasya, we’ve been over this. I’d rather it stayed a mystery.” I brushed a cobweb from the wooden footboard. “It’s his career, not mine. Besides, he does well as a pianist. Lots of attention.”

“I’m sure he likes that.”

“Really, Vasya, drop it. He’s practically a child.”

My father did appear at dinner that night, late and still wearing his uniform. He was a sad sight: his disheveled shirt and his unshaven, once-handsome face. Out of deference, we all stood up as he entered.

“Sit down, sit down,” he said, slowly walking across the room and taking his place at the head of the table. 

We obeyed. The dining hall had never been my favorite room in the manor: it was squat, gloomy, and lined with old portraits and older statues. The heirloom silver tray, which still stood in the corner on a pedestal, had once been as pristine as a mirror; now it was stained, tarnished, and edged with cobwebs. Opposite it was an ancient family portrait from the nineties. It was the best likeness of my mother, the last one drawn before her sickness. She was the spitting image of Alexis; her dark hair curled around her luminous face in intricate coils, her dark, ceaseless eyes gazing at an unseen sky. He had gotten her beauty; I had gotten her heart. 

My brother’s friends were there, a frilly girl called Sonya and a boy named Petr, who had been at school with him before the expulsion. They were strangely cheerful; though Alexis was prone to gloominess and violence, the three of them talked about opera and would not look at me. Vasily and I were left with my father. 

“It’s been so long,” he said, though it had only really been a matter of months. “You look so much older. That new wardrobe… very au courant. How was it in France?”

I had hated France. Paris was overcrowded and obnoxious, but, as Vasily said, fashionable. He was desperate to make a good impression on the world, and Paris was the way to do it: the opera, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the brainless shop clerks who couldn’t figure out how to spell our last name. 

“Lovely,” I said. “It’s so fresh there.”

Vasily nodded. “Paris is a perfect city. We’d stay there all year round if we could.”

My father smiled. “God knows it’s a good time to leave Russia.” He gestured to Alexis and his friends. “Take him with you. He’s wasting his days here, and it’s a terrible place to be young. I want him to live.”

“You’re a pianist, aren’t you, Alexis?” my husband asked, glancing across the table. 

My brother looked up, surprised. “Yes. I play at the Bolshoi Theatre.”

“Why piano?”

“I’m good at it, that’s all.”

I saw my husband smile. “Why don’t you play for us sometime?”

My brother’s eyes flitted over to me and back to him. “Of course,” he said, but sounded ill at ease. “You like music?”

“Mostly just Tchaikovsky.” Vasily set down his fork and fixed my brother with a piercing stare. “Did you start playing before or after you got kicked out of the Cadet Corps?”

A wave of angry embarrassment flashed across my brother’s face. “Before,” he muttered. “Years before.”

In our bedroom after dinner I sat by the window and nursed the baby. Vasily was in the brocade armchair, smoking, the lamplight dancing across his face. 

“Even the paper’s out of date,” he muttered, blowing a cloud of smoke in the air. “We can’t stay here, Kitty.”

“We can leave a day early, if you hate it so much.”

“What, you’re having fun? You don’t have to pretend you like it here just to appease your father. You can’t convince me you really want to spend more than an hour here with that whore brother of yours and his school friends? I swear to God I could kill that boy.”

“Vasya, you agreed to spend one week here with me. As soon as the week is over, we’ll leave, I promise. Lord knows we’ll live the rest of our lives in Petersburg, so let me have this week with my father before he dies.” 

Vasily held up his hands. “As you wish.”

By the time I woke up the next morning, Vasily was gone. He enjoyed an early morning walk; he said the world was most beautiful before sunrise. I sat in bed with the baby, brushing her shock of auburn curls out of her soft face and pinching her chubby cheeks. I had named her after my mother, a last-ditch effort to keep her with me, but the only resemblance was in my baby’s eyes. Even when she was smiling, there was a light in her eyes that seemed to belong to another world, one I knew I would never see. 

Half an hour passed, and there was a knock on the door. It was my brother. 

“Oh, you’ve got little Masha,” he said, peeking around the door. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course. Up early?”

“Rather. Couldn’t sleep last night — had all these awful nightmares. Where’s your husband?”

I laughed. “Out walking, I think. Maybe hunting. He left before I woke up. Here, come sit.”

He crossed and settled himself beside me on the bed. “Can I hold her?”

Gathering her linens, I passed the baby to him. He smiled, touching her nose. “Your husband’s rotten, isn’t he?”

“Alyosha, that’s a bit on the nose.”

“But he is.”

I hesitated. “Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it isn’t. That’s how marriage is. You’ll understand when you’re married.”

“I don’t want to marry. Seems pretty awful, as far as I can see. Gosh, Kitty, she is cute. How old is she?”

“Two months.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t look pregnant at your wedding, otherwise all of Russia would’ve been talking about it,” he said. “If they knew—”

“Alyosha, have you just come in here to pick a bone with me?”

My brother rolled his eyes. “Course not. You’re here for the rest of the week, aren’t you? Why’d you come back, anyway?”

“Father asked me.”

He made a face. “Since when did you care what he thinks?”

“I don’t know. Since when do you care about me?”

His cheeks went red, and he got quiet. 

“Not so nice to be interrogated, is it?” I took the baby back — she had started crying. “I came back because I wanted to see Father one last time. Not that he’s on death’s door, but with the way he drinks you never know. I’m sorry, that’s grim. But there it is — that’s the reason. And I suppose I missed it here.” 

“I miss it too, whenever I leave. It’s great here, isn’t it? The huge gardens, the dusty rooms… You could spend the rest of your life just exploring the east wing.” He sat back, looking up at the ceiling. “Isn’t this place funny?”

Behind us, on either side of the bed, a pair of French windows were glowing in the palm of the sun. The curtains, lacy and sheer, were fluttering in the breeze. On the far wall, the paint had begun to chip. It was as if the house itself was dying. 

My husband did not come back for another several hours. When my brother left I heard their voices in the hall, and waited for Vasily to come in, but he never did. Soon the sound faded, and I was alone again. The baby had fallen asleep, and I put her in her crib. By then it was getting brighter, and warmer. There was, for once in my life, no urgency in the air. I found a book in the mahogany bedside table and flipped through it, careful not to crease the spine. The title page said “Katya’s Book” in ugly Russian cursive. My childhood handwriting had never won any awards. 

I got back into bed, the baby in my line of sight, and began to read. It was an old book about a countess escaping from an evil huntsman. She had gotten lost in the woods looking for her dog — an amateurish mistake — and the huntsman had captured her, carrying her over his shoulder like a featherweight piece of cargo. I had annotated it liberally as a child, and enjoyed reading notes such as “this is very stupid” and “why doesn’t she just try climbing out the window?” — notes which, I’m sure, would have amused the poor author. 

The countess had just managed to break out of the house when I heard a strange noise coming from the east wing. It sounded like a scream, an awful scream, like someone’s heart had been ripped open. The halls were silent, then I heard it again. It was my brother’s voice. 

“Dunya,” I called to the maid, who was ironing in the room next door. 

She appeared a moment later. “Yes, Your Serenity?”

“You hear that sound? What is it?”

Pausing to listen, she frowned. “I’m sorry, Your Serenity, I don’t know.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes, as far as I know.”

I dismissed her — she was no help — and went back to the book. The countess was deep in the woods now, running for her life. She could hear the huntsman shouting behind her, but in the distance she saw a flickering light. She ran faster and faster, and the light got closer and closer. She was almost there. 

That scream rang out through the manor again. Then a second time. My heart began to drum inside my chest. 

“Dunya,” I hollered. 

“Yes, Serenity?”

“I think my brother’s hurt. Will you stay with the baby while I check?”

“Yes, Serenity.”

Of course, as soon as I left, the whole manor was silent. All I could hear was the dust billowing up from the floor as I walked towards the east wing. As I got closer to his room I heard something else — a persistent moaning that made me blush. Looking through the keyhole, I saw him tangled up with another man: Petr, I thought. Feeling sheepish, I retraced my steps and went outside. 

It was a perfect day. The sun pierced the vast blue sky; a dappling of clouds lined the horizon. The copse behind the manor was a glowing canopy of leaves, green above and green below. Far away, there was the sound of water trickling down a creek. Years had passed since I had last walked through the grounds; everything had been so different when I was a little girl. I remembered the vastness of the sky — gazing up at it while lying in the grass and thinking it could’ve swallowed me whole. 

My mother loved the gardens. Even when she was dying, she used to sit under the old oak tree for hours, needlework in hands. During my French lessons I could look out the windows and see her, smiling and stitching away. She liked to sing as she worked, and I would hear the strains of old folk songs; the words, all in Russian, were almost familiar. Now, standing by the oak, my hand on the chipping bark, I almost heard the song again. 

When I went back in, the manor was quieter than ever. Even the wind had hushed up. The silence was eerie and strange. In my room, Dunya was sitting in the armchair with the baby, softly speaking to her in Russian. I was almost hesitant to disturb her; I loved her round, smiling face beaming down at Masha. But she heard the door creaking, and looked up as I came in. 

“Where’s Vasily?” I said, taking off my jacket. “He came back, didn’t he?”

Dunya shook her head. “No, Serenity. I haven’t seen Prince Golitsyn since morning.” 

“Did he tell you where he went?”

Again she shook her head. “No, Serenity. I hardly saw him before he left.”

“Well, I’ll find him.” 

Back in the east wing, I searched the library and the lounge, but both were empty and decaying. As I walked back towards the center of the manor, I passed my brother’s room — it was silent. 

I knocked on the door and called his name, but there was no response. I thought I heard a fluttering sound, but I couldn’t be sure, and knocked again. I didn’t know why, but I felt a little breathless, almost scared. Curious, I tried the door. It was locked. 

“Alyosha, open the door,” I called. “I know you’re in there.”

Nothing. I rattled the handle. 

“Alyosha, you’re scaring me. I’m not upset with you, I just want to talk.”

I took one of the pins from my hair and stuck it in the lock. It was a dirty trick, one that my friend had taught me when we were both young girls. The lock gave, the door swung open. 

The bed was empty. I thought it was strange, the rumpled sheets and displaced pillows, but stranger things had happened in my brother’s room. I stepped inside, and felt something soft under my foot. It was my brother’s robe. A moment later I saw his face, as placid as ever, his eyes open and unmoving. A thin red line ran across his forehead. He was dead. Beside him was my husband, a hole in the side of his head and a gun in his hand. I leaned down to touch my fingertips to his cheek — his skin was still warm. When I stood back up my petticoat was edged in blood. 

That night, Dunya and I boarded a train for Crimea. She sat across from me, the first time we had ever been equals, and held the baby in her arms. It was dark, but the lamplight slipped over her cheeks and glinted in her eyes.

The train started up. The clicking of the wheels grew louder. I glanced toward the window, feeling the tears in the corners of my eyes. I looked back. A beam of light flooded the compartment: a lamp on a passing platform. The moment was over; the light became weaker, then faded altogether, and we went on, as the landscape danced in the windows and the track slowly split the country in two. 

[darkmermaidao3]

Clarity Chapter Five (Bonten Sanzu)

Minors do not interact (18+ fic)

Warnings: Not very many things going on this chapter, we've got profanity, sexual thoughts, manipulation if you squint really hard, unprofessionalism.

Words in blue are text/email

Doctor Ikeda,

I was so very happy to get such a quick response from you and I apologize for not getting back to you sooner, the holiday has put me significantly behind on a number of things, I’m sure you’re going through something similar at your clinic. I can’t express how thankful I am that you agreed to work alongside me for this case, it’s quite the tough one and I truly believe that with our combined efforts, we should manage to find some answers and come to conclusions about it by putting our heads together. I’ve attached copies of all the information relevant to the case, some of it is repetitive as they’re from the various doctors that had a go at it before us. I have pages worth of notes I’ve compiled concerning my thoughts about it and once you’ve done the same, I would love to get together with you to discuss them. I know of a wonderful restaurant in Ebisu where we could-

“Could you be any more insufferable?” the woman muttered to herself, irritation in her voice; she rubbed at her temples, willing the approaching headache to go away, Shimizu had put it in motion with this ridiculous email and she already knew that playing nice with him was going to be a trying time for her.

Yuki wasn’t so sure what she would rather deal with at this point nor which side of him was any less of a pain, his over-the-top fake politeness or his argumentative and demeaning attitude. It was obvious just how hard he was trying to pull the wool over her eyes, but she wasn’t an idiot. He’d only reached out to her because he couldn’t solve this case himself, he didn’t want to admit defeat, so he’d rather team up with her and get partial shared credit than none at all; she was sure his family had something to do with it, the Shimizu’s had never once given up on a case and he was expected to do whatever it took to keep that record going strong. Regardless of how unbearable being around the man would be, especially considering she’d chosen to do so of her own freewill, she’d have to suck it up because saving a life was far more important than her ego. As great as the money was, she hadn’t become a doctor for a high pay day, watching her grandmother wither away to nothing had been the start of it all. The doctors hadn’t had the answers, they hadn’t been capable of doing anything for her except managing her pain and when she finally passed on after years of torment, the white-headed woman started working on her thesis about that disease; she was going to find the answers one day.

Moving on, she needed to save all those files he’d sent over before she replied to his irritating email, make physical copies of them after, and get to work on studying them at her earliest convenience. She already had so much on her plate and more only continued adding to it since she’d gotten herself caught up in too much at once, she didn’t know how she was going to manage. She had this current situation with the shared case, she’d had to push back her visit to the orphanage so now she had to find another day soon this month where she’d be capable of going, she had to make time to continue her research and work on her thesis so she could (hopefully) have it done by the next conference like she’d been trying to do for years, she’d spent the whole of today on phone call after phone call as she rescheduled every single one of her appointments for the rest of the week herself since she’d closed the clinic, so much for a vacation.

‘…coffee.’

Not only had that new coffee brewer for the staff room come in right on schedule but she’d ordered one to keep in her office with hopes that it would keep her from being interrupted nearly as often, she felt like she’d made a mistake though seeing as now she was drinking coffee practically the whole day to keep herself awake with how exhausted she was; she was going to wind up with a caffeine high before the end of it all. There was so much that she needed to see to, and she couldn’t give any of those things her entire focus or all of her attention as it were, they may have been priorities but none of them were at the tiptop of the list; that spot was taken.

‘Don’t look, you’re being a creep.’

Yuki bit into her lower lip, rolling it between her teeth with thoughts of why it was best that she did not look for a little while longer, she couldn’t continue on like this and had to find a way to stop the slightly obsessive behavior so she could actually get things done. There was absolutely no reason for her to behave this way, she had to focus on the things that mattered and although her patient certainly did matter more so than anything else going on right now, it wasn’t an excuse to hover around him. He needed to continue resting without her distracting him, the incisions were healing and showing no signs of infection, it was looking like he was almost in a good place where she’d be able to stop the morphine and swap it out for a painkiller in the form of a pill. She had plenty of those in stock and she’d certainly be sending him on his way with a prescription once he was at a place where he could leave, that was the goal after all, to get him healed up so he could go back to his regular life. He wouldn’t be staying at her clinic forever and she had to come to terms with the reality that she’d more than likely never see him again, she had to be okay with it because there was honestly zero reason why she should be antsy about it. Yes, she would naturally worry because she did so towards all her patients but with him…

‘It’s different.’

As cliché as it sounded, it was different with him, and the young doctor was aware that it made her seem desperate but what else was she supposed to think after he’d touched her in what was very obviously meant to be an intimate way? She bit harder into her lip at the memory of his hand brushing strands of white from her eyes, his featherlight touch ghosting along her cheek, his aquamarine pools hadn’t pulled away from her once during that time and her heart was readying itself to give out simply from that alone. The female needed to remind herself that he hadn’t been sober since before she had to perform surgery, morphine was a strong opiate and half the time, people didn’t remember much of anything with how floaty it made their head feel, disrupting their cognitive function and the like. There wasn’t much of a chance that he’d remembered doing so considering he hadn’t made attempts to do it again, she couldn’t answer why he’d done so to begin with taking into account that he still hadn’t spoken a word to her, and it’d been days since he'd first woken up after the procedure; he was high with how strong that stuff was and she couldn’t take anything he did in that state as being meaningful.

‘There’s no reason for this.’

There wasn’t one, as a medical professional, she was supposed to have been maintaining said professionalism this entire time and instead, she was doing things that were entirely leftfield from her normal, she almost didn’t know who she was. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d gotten lost in her head daydreaming about him when she was supposed to be focusing on her work, she’d embarrassed herself probably well over a hundred times when he’d catch her gazing at him and during the moments that he’d be staring at her, it’d take everything she had not to shift around because of the sticky sin pooling in her panties. As beautiful as he was, that wasn’t an excuse to lose her wits, she was a doctor and she’d already seen her fair share of attractive men, so she should’ve had no problem keeping herself held together.

‘But they weren’t him.’

Her lavender orbs flicked away from her laptop at the thought and flittered in the direction of the hospital bed, trying to be as subtle as possible when they locked onto the pink-haired man, the tension in her body melting away at the sight. He was still sleeping, as he’d been for a couple hours now since she’d given him that last dose of morphine so she needed to keep her butt parked in this chair until he came to on his own, rest was the most important part, and it was almost as though he could sense her presence during the moments that she approached him when he was asleep. She didn’t need to compulsively check his vitals anymore once an hour as she’d done before, he was entirely stable now and she couldn’t continue to disturb him as she’d wound up doing more than a few times since she couldn’t seem to keep her distance. The internal struggle had only gotten worse since he’d touched her and she’d never been intimately touched by a man, he’d caressed her cheek as though she was as fragile as glass and would shatter under his touch. Her emotions were in a frenzy during the moment, her pulse racing and heart pounding so hard that it was a wonder that he didn’t hear it, she couldn’t recall what had been going on in her head as she’d practically blanked simply out of how flustered she felt.

The woman couldn’t count the number of times her friends had pestered her about dating over the years since she’d become an adult, even before then when she was a teenager, but they hadn’t been nearly as adamant about it since there weren’t very many teenagers on campus at university. Kaori had been so defensive that most men hadn’t been willing to even attempt to approach her and as much as she still backed her up when Choyo and Akari started on her about it, even she would make comments about how there wasn’t anything wrong with casual dating. Akari was a social butterfly and friends with an abundance of people, she’d made so many attempts to introduce her to someone she felt would be good for her and as much as Yuki appreciated the thought, she’d always been more focused on her career. Choyo was always starting the argument that she didn’t have to be in a serious relationship to date, there was no reason why she shouldn’t go out once a week or so, how nice it was to get to know someone, and her career shouldn’t have impeded on her social life. As right as all her friends were, dating was something she had zero experience in and didn’t know the first thing about, she wouldn’t know what to talk about or what to do; she’d been a frazzled mess when her cheek was touched so how was she supposed to get through a kiss, let alone sex?

Just the thought alone was enough to cause her face to flush and thighs squeeze together, the silent embarrassment of what his intense stare did to her, the way his aquamarine pools would zero in on her and watch every move she made, studying everything about her. She was anxious every time she noticed his unrelenting gaze and trying to ignore the ever-present arousal was a challenge, thoughts swimming with scenarios that she’d gotten lost in a multitude of times. Her pulse would race at the thought of him being close enough that his lips would brush hers, her heart would pound at the idea of his hands slipping under her dress, her face would burn over the imaginings of him between her legs…which only continued to get worse the longer she was around her PATIENT!

‘Stop it!’

It was too late, her face had to of resembled a tomato from how hot it felt and ignoring the warmth that had settled in her panties was impossible, she didn’t know how she was going to manage to get through the next few days without losing the battle against her raging hormones. There were too many factors at play, outside of the fact that she was a virgin, he was beautiful to the point that her brain quite literally turned to mush just from looking at him for too long, her dream guy didn’t even compare to how gorgeous this man was. She’d never felt so bashful in all her life and although she was managing to push her shyness off to the side to attend to her duties as a doctor in order to give him the best care, it wasn’t letting up nor fading away as the days went by. It was as though the longer they were around one another, the worse it would get, and it didn’t help anything that when she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel his eyes burning holes through her. At first, she’d been sure it was out of wariness considering he’d not only tried to shoot her in the beginning but had almost strangled her to the point of passing out, it’d become clear though that he’d moved passed feeling distrustful of her. 

His stare wasn’t out of keeping his guard up or even curiosity, he was looking at her in the very way that she was looking at him, obviously imagining the same things that she herself was with how his gaze continued raking over every inch of her and because he was on a powerful opiate, she couldn’t take it with anything but a grain of salt. He was impaired, his mind nowhere near where hers was since she was sober and it was doubtful that he’d be looking at her the same way once he was off the morphine, even more doubtful was that he’d remember the last several days which undoubtedly meant that she needed to pull herself together. She had to get him off the morphine and onto another painkiller that he could take with him when he left her clinic, maybe some muscle relaxers to take as needed, anti-inflammatories for the swelling; her mindset had to be one of a medical professional. Her train of thought hadn’t been anything close to what it should’ve been, and she’d already internally scolded herself on an infinite loop for the graphic images that continued floating in her head, she had to remind herself that the feelings she was having towards a patient was unacceptable.

What was worse, the woman didn’t know what she would even do if he wasn’t at a solid point by the time Monday rolled around, she couldn’t put off opening the clinic any longer than that because not only did her staff need their hours, her other patients certainly needed her. Her life couldn’t be on pause simply because of one person and she shouldn’t have even considered doing what she had; she should’ve gotten an ambulance transport as soon as he was stable after surgery, she should’ve called the police because even if she didn’t tell them about him trying to shoot her, he’d been shot, and the authorities would’ve needed to follow up on that. She’d made a huge mistake that she couldn’t correct with how much time had passed and getting in contact with the authorities now wouldn’t have done anything except make things a mess for her; her patient had silently made it clear he didn’t want to go to a hospital, and she didn’t want to imagine how infuriated he’d be if she made attempts to get him to one. If he wasn’t in a place where he was healed up enough to resume his daily life by Sunday evening at the latest, she’d have to figure something out, no one could know about him or what had happened last Friday, lest things become even more complicated than they already were.

A weary sigh left her in complete frustration with herself as she entered the medication room to grab a dose of morphine, she’d gotten herself into quite the huge mess and it was only getting better by the day; she didn’t know what she was going to do. She hadn’t been home in nine days now, she was sure that her cat was almost out of food and desperately needed his litter changed out, she’d thrown on her last clean dress yesterday, she’d practically cleaned out the cupboards and fridge of the breakroom, and she so badly wanted a shower. The young doctor knew that she’d run herself completely ragged by now since she was at a point of wanting to be home but there wasn’t anything that she could do about it, she couldn’t leave her patient unattended, even just popping out for an hour wasn’t plausible since she couldn’t trust him on his own. He’d come far already, he hadn’t needed fluids for a while, she’d taken him off the heart rate monitor as well, he still had the IV solely for the morphine injections and that was about to come out no later than tomorrow, all she was really doing now was managing his pain and waiting for the stitches to dissolve, that was still days away though. 

‘Maybe I could…no, don’t be stupid.’

Not only was it unprofessional but it most certainly wouldn’t send a good message to him, taking a patient to her house was out of the realm of being socially acceptable, not to mention she didn’t even know his name or a thing about him aside from his blood type. It was the furthest thing from being smart, it was highly unsafe as well, but could she even make that argument considering she’d been alone with a complete stranger since Friday? He hadn’t made a violent move against her since she made her intentions known that she wanted to help him, he’d developed some form of trust towards her since he wasn’t trying to deter her from checking his vitals and such, he may have not spoken to her yet but that hadn’t been bothersome to her. This could also be the best move that she could make, if he wasn’t at a place where she felt confident that he could manage on his own, then being tucked away at her house would keep her staff from finding out about him and it’d be more comfortable for the both of them; she was sure he wanted a shower just as much as she did and she could cook a real meal for once…or order takeout. 

‘Am I really doing this?’

Yuki didn’t know how she could even ask that, especially considering she’d already grabbed a few bottles worth of the medications she’d need for the upcoming days and for her patient to have when he left her, already having doctored all the records so no one would know they were missing from the medication room; there was no backing out and the only way was forward.

‘It’s just a few days, just like how it’s been here.’

Her hands were entirely full as she reentered her office, it almost sounded like she was starting a Mariachi band where the primary instrument was maracas with how many pill bottles were being shaken with each of her steps, keeping as secure of a hold as she could on the syringe of morphine while she dumped the contents onto her desk with a heavy sigh of relief. She’d get them tucked away into her purse and after her patient woke up then they could be on their way so long as he was comfortable with doing so, she couldn’t give him this last dose until after they made it, otherwise he’d be deadweight and there was zero chance she could move him should that happen. The woman eased her laptop shut before grabbing her purse off the hook, opening it up and tossing one bottle after another into it, the front pocket was the safest place for the opiate. She closed up the main pocket and zipped open the front one, making to tuck the syringe in, pausing her movements when she felt the warm hand pressing against her hip from behind her.

‘Breathe, you have to breathe.’

The white-headed woman warily turned to look back over her shoulder, her heart fluttering no sooner did lavender meet aquamarine, she hadn’t known he was awake upon her return but then again, she’d been so focused getting things packed to keep herself from hovering. She was pleased that he wasn’t struggling to keep himself held upright, he’d walked around a little yesterday after she’d pushed him to do so, his expression had been the furthest thing from happy with her since she’d refused to give him morphine until then. As dilated as his pupils still were, the usual impassive expression he directed at her was nonexistent, his lips pressed into a thin line and hinting at displeasure; she noticed he always did so when he was in pain, but it shouldn’t have been wearing off yet. Her lips parted to speak but she didn’t manage a single word when his hand tightened around her hip just enough that he could guide her to turn to face him, warmth building on her cheeks when it registered that she was sandwiched between him and her desk, hardly a foot of space separating them.

‘Get it together.’

She was struggling to remember how to breathe at the light squeeze of his hand, her eyes darting away from his shyly, trying to gather herself enough that she could find the right words. Her heart could’ve given out right there over the light push against her hip that had her lower back bumping the desk and his fingers hooked under her chin, urging her to meet his unrelenting stare.

‘Breathe, breathe, breathe.’

She didn’t know how she was even managing to think with how intense his gaze was this time around, she hadn’t expected whatsoever for him to get so close to her, his face had hovered so close that if she stood up on her toes then it’d be just enough that she could-

‘No, stop it!’

“I-I um…w-we’re…I mean…” the woman hesitated, trying her utmost best to steady her voice; her mouth felt thick with spit over just how deeply he was studying her, his piercing eyes leaving hers only to drop to her lips.

‘Breathe, fuck, shit.’

“W-we’re going to go-go to my house f-for a few days.” She stammered, her tone anxious; it seemed that had been the last thing he’d expected to hear, his gaze darting back to hers no sooner did she have the words out. “I-I mean…it-it’s just a precaution, in case y-you need more time. I have to reopen Monday and um…I need to feed my cat.”

‘Get it together, come on.’

“I-is that…okay?” she continued, her voice filled with worry; she wished she knew what this man was thinking, his expression hadn’t faltered whatsoever aside from swapping back to his usual neutral look and he hadn’t shown a single sign of discomfort, a simple head movement would satisfy her at this point. “I-if you’re not comfortable with that, I-I can always-”

She sealed her lips when his hand gave her hip a gentle squeeze, the pink on her cheeks darkening a shade and breaking away from his stare was impossible, not only hadn’t he released her chin, but she could’ve sworn he was hovering closer to her; he was. Strands of pink were slipping over his shoulders as he leaned closer to her, almost pressed right up against her and she’d entirely forgotten how to breathe when she felt his warm breath ghost over her lips, she didn’t know how she’d keep herself in line if he got any closer to her. He was breathtakingly beautiful and out of everything she’d admired about him, as nerve-wracking as being under his gaze was, his eyes had to be her favorite thing about him; he looked at her as though he was trying to see straight into the depths of her soul, it was no wonder she blanked practically every time she was on the receiving end of his stare.

‘So pretty.’

“Are you always so shy, Doctor?”

Yuki wasn’t sure what was more prevalent in the moment, her heart threatening to give out or the blush overtaking her face as she stared up at him in a combination of dumbfounded and total awe, her eyes as wide as saucers. He’d just spoken to her, after four days, he’d finally said something to her and the sound of his voice had done more to her than she’d ever expected, her panties were soaked. Her face was flushing furiously over the question, this man had the audacity not to speak to her for FOUR days and the first words out of his mouth were meant to tease her, she’d never felt so flustered in all her life. She was reeling in shock from just how unexpected it was, so much so that she was grasping at straws with hopes to figure out what to even say in response and she could’ve swallowed her tongue when his thumb brushed across her lips, his head just barely cocking to the side to observe her from another angle.

‘Breathe, you have to breathe!’

“I-I…umm…it-it’s just…” she responded, stumbling over her words despite how hard she was trying to pull herself together; she’d certainly made a complete fool of herself and would continue to do so unless she could reel herself in. “Y-you haven’t…”

This man had to of known the effect he had on her, between the knowing look in his eyes and the small smirk that formed on his lips from her babbling, he was already fully aware of what he did to her, she could almost feel the confidence pouring off him as his aquamarine pools held her lavender ones.

“I’m sorry, what was that; Doctor?” he pressed, his voice the definition of teasing; her face was on fire in embarrassment, her thighs shifting closer together absentmindedly in response. “Am I making you nervous?”

“N-no.” she managed timidly; the pink-haired man didn’t look convinced whatsoever, the smirk on his lips widening as he released her chin, placing his hand flat against the wood of the desk and essentially caging her in. “You-you’re still healing, you shouldn’t-”

“I can’t feel shit right now, Doctor.” He interrupted; the woman felt a shiver move through her when his hand slid away from her hip to the curve of her waist, she was positive her panties were ruined from how wet she was, and he was so close that even just a subtle shift in her weight would have him pressed up against her. “If we’re going, we should now before it wears off.”

As confused as she felt over just how much composure he had, she didn’t bother questioning it, it’d been the same when he’d been bleeding out and refusing to ask for assistance, his expression hadn’t faltered then, and it wasn’t faltering now despite that he was still impaired. Although the high wasn’t nearly what it would be had she just given him a fresh dose, his brain was still floaty, and he’d been able to express that it was still strong enough in his system that he couldn’t feel any pain. He was right about needing to get going before it wore off, she may be able to get him off the morphine starting tomorrow but he’d still need pain medication for the upcoming days, he’d been shot twelve times after all. She’d hoped he’d be in a good spot come Monday, figuring he’d want to get back to his regular life but now she found herself hoping that it’d take a little while longer just so she could get more time with him since he’d finally chosen to speak to her; she couldn’t imagine just how antsy she’d feel being at work for ten hours rather than looking after him should that be the case. She nodded in reply rather than the alternative of trying to force out words that she knew she’d struggle with, his aquamarine pools taking her in for a brief moment before he took a step back from her and she somehow managed to resist the urge to whine in protest when his hand left her waist; the upcoming days were going to be a rough time for her.

Had they not been so pressed for time, she certainly would’ve struggled to keep herself held together numerous times over the course forty minutes, everything from leaving the clinic to the drive to her house would’ve been a time and a half, and the only thing that saved her was keeping herself in that professional headspace paired with her patient keeping his hands to himself. Every bit of that composure was threatening to shatter no sooner did she lock the door behind them, her lip rolling between her teeth when his gaze found her form for what had to of been the thousandth time since he’d woken up Saturday night, she was unsure just what to do now that they were tucked away in her home. She’d never had a man over before, the last one having ever been in the house was her grandfather and he’d passed away when she’d been hardly six, she’d never imagined just how out of place she’d feel in her own home simply from a visitor. She just had to stick with what she’d been thinking about before he’d unexpectedly woken up, she could get him settled, take care of everything for her cat before she ordered some takeout for dinner, start some laundry for herself and her guest (her grandmother had never had the heart to throw out anything belonging to her grandfather and she knew for a fact any of it would fit, she’d have to return the clothes she’d found for him at the clinic on Monday), showers for both of them, get him settled into the guest room and she could finally pass out after she gave him that last dose of morphine.

‘Have to keep it together for just a little while.’

The sound of patters was enough to settle her down and pull her out of her head, her gaze pulling from his while she knelt down just enough that she could nuzzle her nose against her sweet boy’s; she was sure that her cat was furious over how long she’d been gone, she usually didn’t leave him for longer than five days and it’d put her behind on her usual routine with him. He certainly needed brushed, he was constantly shedding, and she’d find black fur quite literally all over her house every day.

“I know, you’re hungry, aren’t you?” the woman murmured, her voice apologetic; Kuro was undoubtedly upset with her, meowing and much more talkative than usual, nuzzling his head everywhere that he could reach while she turned her attention back to the man. “I um, I’m going to feed him, and I’ll order some takeout for us…is that alright?”

Yuki didn’t know why she was even asking; this was her house to begin with, so she didn’t need to ask for permission to do anything here, she must’ve still just been frazzled over how much had happened today that she hadn’t anticipated and was struggling to ground herself. Pink was streaking over her cheeks all over again as he looked at her in the same way he had been for days, giving her a short nod in reply without saying a word, she hoped they weren’t back to not being on speaking terms but pressing him wasn’t in her best interest; her cat was going to lose his mind if she didn’t feed him right now. She pulled her eyes from his bashfully, ducking her head while she scampered down the hallway towards the kitchen with her sweet boy at her heels, the heavier footsteps filling the silence by the time she’d turned the corner and she exhaled a slow breath, trying to calm her nerves with reminders that everything would be as it’d been at the clinic, the only difference being the location. It took less than three minutes for her to refill the automatic feeder, Kuro immediately buried his face in the bowl with enthusiasm while she got fresh water for him, keeping her ears open for the pink-haired man. She could hear his footsteps as he wandered around her house, the morphine seemed to still be managing his pain, so it gave her the chance to get some things done while he explored.

Laundry started, takeout ordered, fresh sheets on the bed in the guest room, her things tucked away in her bedroom along with all those pills and that last dose, she’d have to remove the IV tonight, so she gathered up everything she’d need for that and set it off to the side until later; there wasn’t much else she could do until laundry was finished or dinner arrived. She breathed a deep sigh, turning her phone off and placing it on charge for the night, her fingers pinching open the claw-clip and freeing the rest of her white locks, brushing the shorter strands away from her eyes. She needed a game plan for the upcoming days, to figure out what she was going to do for when she had to go back to work if he wasn’t ready because although she was entirely fine with him staying at her house, she would worry herself half to death since she wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him for ten hours at a time. If she wasn’t the sole doctor at her clinic then shortening her days wouldn’t be questionable, her nurse practitioners could do quite a bit to help lighten the load on the days she absolutely had to leave early but she tried not to do that often, hiring another doctor on was an option she could consider but she felt it would be suspicious to some degree since she’d taken a ”vacation” completely out of the blue.

‘There’s nothing I can do that wouldn’t raise questions.’

There wasn’t and she’d already done so much already that had been the biggest curveball ever thrown at her, doctoring the inventory so no one would know that high class medications had been essentially stolen, she’d performed a surgery without contacting anyone afterwards, she’d cleaned up the evidence of what her staff would see as a break-in, she’d kept a total stranger in her clinic for days, only to take him to her house to hide his existence. She’d have to go into work Monday early enough that she could hide all the evidence of another person and what she’d done, clean everything out from her office, get everything back in her make-shift hospital room and lock up the door until she had the time to actually put things back the way they’d been beforehand. The young doctor was doing things that she’d never dreamed of and as optimistic as she wanted to be that things would continue on as they had after her patient was on his way, she wasn’t naïve enough to believe that as truth. Things would never go back to how they’d been before Friday unless she wound up with amnesia and had the event completely wiped from her brain, she may not have known how it was going to affect her life moving forward, but it undoubtedly would.

Regardless, Yuki knew that she’d done the right thing, she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if she hadn’t, she’d gone into the medical field to save lives and that’s what she’d done. She’d saved someone’s life and with the precautions she’d taken, no one would know aside from her and her pink-haired patient, she didn’t need nor want recognition for doing what she felt was right. She was worrying herself for nothing, this wouldn’t drastically affect her life in any way shape or form, she was just overanalyzing things. Once they parted ways, it’d be like it never happened, she’d go back to what she’d been doing and he’d go back to his life, they’d never see each other again, and that was that. The occasional thought about one another was the extent of it, maybe see one another on the street in passing but even that was slim chances with how crowded of a place Tokyo was.

The white-headed woman paused from pulling the last box from the delivery bag when she felt the warm hand press against the curve of her waist, her cheeks flushing as she looked back over her shoulder, lavender meeting aquamarine.

‘Just a few days.’ 

[illegally-blind-and-deaf]

Almost the entire Tintin fandom is going to murder me after this post, but oh well

I need to get this off my chest and put my perfectly valid opinions out there in the world.

Now, a gentle disclaimer: I do not hate haddotin, you ship what you want. What gets on my nerves is people adamantly denying Tintin is a child of some degree.

Please, here me out.

I wish to do this in a debate style, a bit of a persuasive text of some sort. This is not to be a "HAHA YOU'RE WRONG" moment, this is simply me sharing my opinions because I am allowed to.

Alright.

I begin my argument on rebuttal to the opposition's perfectly valid arguments. Some such claims I have heard is that Tintin cannot be a child/teenager of any sort because he can drive a car, drink, rent an apartment, has a job as a journalist, etc.

First things first, we must discuss the time period. I will, for the sake of this debate, focus many on around ww2 and the 40s, as that is when Tintin began to really take off.

In Britain (and I imagine a lot of Europe,) children were permitted to leave school around the age of 14 until the 1944 Education Act that made schooling until 15 years of age compulsory. Children between the ages of 14-17 often worked full-time, making it very possible for Tintin to have been working as an adolescent. The average rent was also incredibly cheaper. In New York, the rent averaged to around $50, sometimes even less. With a full-time job, it was probable for Tintin to have rented a small, two roomed apartment until he became the greatest reporter in history and had the money for something bigger.

Journalism, especially in Belgium during ww2, was a whole other kettle of fish. Underground newspapers were everywhere, as Belgium was under German occupation, and there were many students who worked for the papers, a notable one being Le Faux Soir. It is VERY probable for a student as intelligent and capable as Tintin to have written reports for these newspapers and for him to have continued the line of work after the war, especially with papers the likes of Le Vingtiéme Scielce and, of course, Le Petit Vingtiéme.

Drinking laws were very different in the mid-20th century. Today, in the US, drinking is only permitted to those 21 years and older. In Australia and many other countries, it's 18. Germany and Belgium set it to 16, though in Germany you are allowed to drink beer, sparkling wine and other lighter drinks at 14. This is now. Back in the 20th century, there were ten-year-olds smoking cigarettes, so it is highly probable that teenagers could drink as well. Also, another note to point out, Tintin hardly ever drinks unless it's a celebration. He never drinks spirits and is often quick to turn down a beverage. The only two drinks I can think of him having are champagne and maybe possibly beer. On one occasion.

Driving is an interesting one. To this day in the US, some states permit driving practice to begin at 14. In Australia, it's 16. In the 40s, it was very possible that teenagers were driving around without licences (or with licences) and also, Tintin is a reporter. A world famous reporter. He flew a plane after only interviewing a pilot (and probably reading a lot on aviation because he strikes me as a plane lover). Driving a car is simple compared to that.

Now, I wish to give some points of my own.

Firstly, it is very hard to put an age on Tintin for a very simple reason: Tintin is timeless. Allow me to explain.

The first book, Tintin in the Land of the Soviets, was published in 1929 and is quite obviously an anti-Soviet Union work of propaganda. It's written in the late 20s, or course it is. At this point Stalin has taken total power of Russia, it's officially completely communist and Stalin has begun to eye off surrounding smaller countries that used to be part of Imperial Russia and reclaim them as Russian territory. (Lithuania was not happy about that, but that's not relevant right now.) The fear of communist ideals were the new threat as ww1 had finished and Hitler hadn't come to power yet. Hence the propaganda.

On the other end of the spectrum is Tintin and the Alph-Art, Hergé's last work before he died in 1983. It's very evidently set in the 80s with modern art, crazy frizzy hairdos and vivid cities with neon lights. It's a complete contrast to the black and white 20s. Yet Tintin seems to have hardly aged in the whole 60 something years. He certainly looks a couple of years older than the the small Tintin is The Crab With the Golden Claws but that's really the only change we see with him. The biggest changes we see are his outfits, which go from the very 30s and 40s knickerbockers and newsboy hats to straight-legged pants and no hat. Tintin is a timeless character and therefore doesn't really have a specific age, but he does have an age range.

Secondly, if you Google how old Tintin is the official website says he's a teenager. Moving on.

Third point, (and in my opinion the most important;) the age group Tintin was written for. According to Google, the age group for the recommended audience is 9-14, though some of us started reading the books when we were younger... (cue 6-year-old me waving). If you read books as a child, you would know that the average age of the main characters is the same as the demographic they were written for.

Now, since Tintin was written for children and teenagers, he is most probably a teenager because that's what's relatable. Children often struggle to understand and relate to adults because we've never been adults. We don't know what its like to be an adult. Children's books have children characters because it's easier for children to see themselves in the book than if the character were all adults.

"But Bea," you may be saying, "how can a teenager or child or whatever he is go on such wild adventures? It doesn't seem realistic for a teenager to do these things." This is another thing people often forget: Tintin is fiction. We know that in fiction anything can happen, even the impossible. There are several children's books I grew up with featuring teenagers or even children going on absolutely wild adventures and almost dying, just like Tintin. The Ruby Redfort books by Lauren Child feature a 13-year-old spunky teen who ends up becoming a secret agent and almost enough in far too many accounts. We're talking chasing down the last wolf of a thought to be exciting species, surviving a wildfire, almost drowning in jade sand, dangling off ridiculously high buildings, tightrope walking across cities, the whole ordeal. The EJ12 book series is about an 11 year old Australian girl who joins a secret agency and travels the world fighting the evil spy agency SHADOW. The Famous Five, set in the 40s, is about a group of four kids and a dog who get roped into magnificent mysteries, often nearly getting kidnapped or shot or the likes. It's not impossible for children in books to be incredible heroes, because that's what kids imagine themselves as. If we all thought logically and didn't imagine things the world would be very dull indeed.

So, the main points? Tintin, in my opinion, is a teenager because he was designed to be read by children and teens. It's also important to learn about the time and era things were created in before jumping to conclusions. And it's also very important to remember that Tintin is fiction. He's not going to always make sense, like how he barely ages over the span of 60 years, or how he can fly a plane with no training. It's imaginative, and that's what makes it so exciting.

Now, how does haddotin work when Tintin is a teen and Haddock is a 40+ something old man? (Before anyone comes at me with the grey hair thing, my dad is fifty and has only a few grey hairs. I had a pure white hair at 14. Hair ages differently for everyone.)

Simple: you take a leaf out of the spideypool book and you change the ages. Voila. Yes, you can change the ages for your five and things, that's allowed. But when talking about Tintin himself, I personally think he is a teenager and I will guard this hill fervently.

Of course everyone is entitled to their own opinions. These are mine, and you have yours. That's fine. I just wanted to voice mine in a calm and hopefully notnjudgemental manner.

Thankbyou for making it this far

Also before someone starts disputing history with me, I have done serious research about Belgium in ww2 and Russia in the early 20th c, as well as planning a career as a modern historian. Please don't dispute unless you have done research yourself, in which case please feel free to educate me

[spicyliumang]

[Yakuza 7 oc (?)] Finally have a visual (and the displeasure) of what Enya's abusive ex bf from 5 years ago looks like😬 *crowd booes*

I didn't want to give him much but he's kinda relevant for Enya's lore so kdjsdksjs yeah

Enya meets Shoji at the boarding school she went to as a teen and quickly fell for him and dated him on and off for 5 years.

Shoji is a smug careless guy with barely any sense of ambition. He influenced Enya a lot as a teen introducing her to drinking and smoking and doing reckless things simply for the thrill.

Shoji is very self-centered, he ditched Enya countless times to hang out with his friends either to go drinking or play pachinko for hours on end. Sometimes he would call her while drunk and start an argument in the middle of the night. Shoji was a huge burden and stressor in Enya's life while in college, she ends up dropping out of college and moving back with her adoptive father for the time being.

Shoji's countless antics have caused Enya to break up with him several times. But like clockwork, he love-bombs her each time to get back in her good graces. One of the final straws (or so she thought) was when he forgot her birthday and spent the whole day drinking and gambling with friends and only found out by calling while drunk asking for some money to gamble with when she let him have it. After that point, Enya was done with him for the time being and finally got a job at the Rose Blossom Cabaret which helped her become stable and get a place of her own.

A year later, Shoji finds his way to Enya's apartment door in the middle of the night apologetically and made lots of empty promises "I wanna marry you!" "You're the love of my life!" "I can't live without you!" practically begging at her doorstep. Since she still had a soft spot for him, she let him in. And eventually got back together.

Shoji is a very controlling, insecure man who absolutely hated the idea that Enya works at the Rose Blossom. The idea of any man even within a 15 feet radius caused him to start arguments with her. He gave lots of backhand compliments about her appearance in hopes to discourage her to quit. When those attempts didn't work, it ended with him starting a screaming match up until she breaks down crying. He never missed an opportunity to slut shame her in hopes she loses her confidence completely and quits. But she always refused. One particular day she got into a heated argument with Shoji at her apartment to the point he punched a hole in her wall. She kicked him out and stopped seeing him for months.

The final time they got back together, Shoji was allegedly "homeless" and his roommate kicked him out so he came to her house crying and begging in the pouring rain for her to "let him stay" all over again making the same promises and using his terrible relationship with his father as an excuse for his treatment towards her and went on and on about how much he needs her and naive Enya relented all over again. The final straw that ended things for good was while she was on her lunch break, she went to Gindaco Highball Tavern where she found Shoji on a date with a girl while they were still together. Enya made a big scene and threw a drink in his face. Which led to her getting kicked out of the place and Shoji made it seem like she was the aggressor. After that, she cried for months.

While traveling with Ichigang, she would get calls from unknown numbers and strange texts which without a doubt was from Shoji. Enya would block all of the numbers, but somehow always found a way to reach her. Last she heard about him at this point, she ran into one of his old friends who did not hesitate to mention he went off and married that same girl she found him cheating with. (They were not helping at all ofc) Finding this out really tore her apart and led her to feel discarded and was the root of her abandonment issues.

Long after things settled down after the fight with Tendo with the gang and after her adoptive father passed, Enya eventually gets with Zhao. Now Shoji returns and finds Enya while she's working constantly badgering her to get back together after him being divorced and not having custody of his kids. But now she's fully healed and wants nothing to do with him. He spots a hickey on her neck and get's all combative accusing her that she replaced him and promised she'd never leave him. The guilt trip doesn't work and that was his final passive attempt. Little does she know he is affiliated with some rinky-dink street gang. Usually, she's able to fight off anyone, but there was a huge group Shoji had with him that overpowered and kidnapped her. (At this point Shoji is very much in the "If I can't have you, no one can) and help her hostage. Thanks to the Geomijul, the gang finds her and Shoji finally met Zhao eventually realizing he was the one dating Enya and did not hold back from taunting him by saying inappropriate things about Enya's body to throw him off while fighting him. Zhao did not take that well at all and Shoji was beaten so bad to the point his death would have been him being spared. Han was close to making arrangements to kill him when Ichiban stopped him (in his good-natured fashion:'D). And instead, they called the cops and he got locked up. Not only for assault but also for scamming old people for money. As he should

[casitafallz]

LTRL AU | Twirling Weather Vanes

tw blood

The thunder and clouds above Casita were not a pleasant sight, as it never was and the patter of rain and growing was less so, but Alma was no fool to the news. She had heard whispers, but she didn’t know the truth.

If last time was anything to go by, the family would return to Casita and so, she had to as well.

The fact Isabela was involved, wasn’t too much of a surprise but sh disliked the conflicts; Isabela attacked Camilo, Camilo attacked Isabela, or Isabela was attacked by Parce… it didn’t sound like it was a simple situation but one Alma was already growing a headache for hearing.

Why was another mess happening in her family?

Casita opened their doors quickly, the roof new shielding her from the onslaught of rain up until she reached the dining room to see almost the entire family was there and there was a mixture of dark looks being thrown across the table. The only one absent was Julieta which was not a good implication.

Camilo had a tissue over his nose and blood on the front of his ruana and hands, Mirabel was resting ice on her knuckle, Antonio was hugging Dolores while Felix was tending to Pepa, patting away the snow cloud, Luisa was standing in the background, arms folded with a downtrodden expression and Agustín looked to be in the kitchen with Bruno and trying to get together either food or drink.

“Abuela.” Luisa was first to notice her as she strode in, the atmosphere turning even more tense.

“What happened?” Abuela demanded tightly, Casita pulling her chair open for her but she couldn’t sit just yet.

“Camilo set Parce on Isabela.” Mirabel spoke up first, her eyes tear filled as she glowered at her cousin.

“What?!” Her voice dropped in tone, her gaze turning hard to her eldest grandson who shrunk down into his seat.

“She had me in vines! I panicked!” Camilo defended, removing the issue though the blood still seemed to roll down his upper lip.

“She had-” Alma paused, “whole story, now.”

“Isabela and Camilo looked like they were auguring,” Luisa announced shakily, “What about, I don’t know but I was on the roof, pulling a pallet of stone up to the church roof. The rope snapped and Camilo almost got caught underneath if Isa hadn’t pulled him out of the way with her gift.”

Alma swallowed uneasily at the news. “I thought all ropes were checked before reaching certain heights. We learned such a lesson after Señora Lopez’s death nearly thirty years ago.”

“It…was my fault, Abuela.” Luisa looked down. “I…forgot that…just because I could move it with no issues, the rope would be a different story.”

“We’ll circle back to you later, Luisa,” Alma said, but her attention was elsewhere. “Where is Isabela now?”

“She’s being tended to by Dr Lopez and his family.” Dolores piped up, not stopping the soft circles against Antonio’s back, the child sniffling still but seeming content in her arms. “Tia’s on her way back with Señora Rojas.” Her eyes flickered to Agustín as she spoke.

Alma also spared her son-in-law a look as well. Another Vera visit was hardly going to be pleasant but…not unsurprised given the events. Clearly, news or a lecture was coming their way as well too if the last few events were an indication of Vera’s involvement.

Agustín didn’t wait and just vanished out the door to his wife and mother but the momentary time gave Alma a moment to think of the short version of what had happened.

An argument, probably something petty if it was between Isabela and Camilo—she doubted it was overly relevant to the follow up because it was no secret the tensions between the two were unideal but she couldn’t fault Camilo’s reason for discomfort any more than Isa most likely reacting to them.

She couldn’t fault Luisa’s part if the rope snapping was innocent; pulling it up high was easiest for her to pull from the top and not think much the rope’s bearing weight when it was light as anything in her own hands. She’d pull Luisa away from construction and church renovations for the next few days until nerves had been settled. Luisa looked fairly rattled and it wouldn’t be wise for her to keep doing that.

The fact that… Isa had used her gift so publically was worrying, but she knew in her own words that Isa’s gift restriction would be conditional. Saving someone’s life would count for something, but clearly, something had gone amiss.

“Camilo, why did you set Parce onto Isabela? Jaguars are one of the deadliest creatures we have that live in our jungles.” Alma decided to ask.

“I didn’t know what was going on, Abuela.” Camilo coughed a blood clot into the tissue, taking a clean one that Pepa was quick to grab, despite the snow cloud and wash of cold air that bustled through the dining room. He licked his lips in disgust at the tissue. “She wrapped me up in vines suddenly. What? I’m not supposed to panic about that?”

“You didn’t hear the thundering crash of bricks behind you?”

Camilo shrugged, “I thought she was trying to kill me.”

Alma tittered, though Pepa’s thundered snuffed it out with a much larger crack of thunder. A…statement she may have worried about a week ago, but she had tried to…see past some of the issues she had to hope Isa wouldn’t relapse into that sort of behavior. Was she still worried? Of course, but with so many other witnesses; she was content to believe this was not an attempted murder case.

Mirabel’s hand clenched even more her eyes baring into his face. “So you thought to kill her first? Aren’t you a hypocrite?”

“Hey! I was never trying to kill her!”

“Right, like she never tried to kill me either!” Mirabel spat, “Don’t condemn her when you’re using the exact same excuse as she did.”

Alma coughed, drawing the teens from letting this escalate though Alma’s attention turned to see Julieta and the other two finally make their way into the dining room.

“What is all of this shouting about?” Vera asked as if she hadn’t overheard the tail end of Mirabel’s words.

“Mama!” Mirabel jumped from her seat, abandoning the ice to the table top. “Is she okay?”

Julieta nodded swiftly, “She’ll live.”

That was a settled relief, Alma’s shoulders relaxed.

“but… she’ll have scars.”

“Didn’t you heal her up?” Pepa was the first to ask, “All of it.”

Julieta shook her head, “I healed the worst of it. She’ll be staying with the doctor’s family for the next few days for observation.”

“What about…it?” Mirabel asked, her eyes begging for information but what was referenced, Alma had no clue. Isa was the only one seemly hurt...unless she was mistaken?

“He’s…why she’s being monitored. If all is good the next few days, there should be no immediate risks.”

“He? It’s a boy!” Mirabel looked to brighten up, even Luisa took a sharp intake of breath at such news. Despite her clear joy at the news, there was still caution and worry on her face.

“A boy? What are you on about?” Alma couldn’t help herself to ask.

“Mama… is now—“ Agustín went to start but Vera held up a hand with a soft smile and a nod. Agustín stepped down with a nod, guiding Julieta to a chair, though Julieta caught on to the bruise that lined her daughter’s knuckles.

“Alma, we kept a certain fact regarding Isabela a secret for a reason.” Vera addressed, “I’ve been aware of this for over a week now and it was in confidence she trusted me to know and to reveal at my discretion. Julieta’s side of the family knows and….Dolores.”

Dolores didn’t even look ashamed of such a fact as Antonio shifted to lean against her chest on his side; his face puffy with tears but calmer than before. Alma though didn’t spare her much of another thought either.

“To put it bluntly, Isabela’s pregnant.” Vera announced, “She’s entering the third trimester now but she’s inherited a family condition from my side that’s obscuring the visual pregnancy side effects so you wouldn’t have noticed.”

Alma stared in somewhat disbelief. Isabela.

Pregnant.

She wanted to shoot that idea out of the water very quickly because…that now was not the time for that. Isabela with a baby? After everything? Was there nothing the girl wasn’t doing to their family without consideration? She remembered what had been said after she had been caught, the girl had been the carpenter boy for a while but…surely if there was a pregnancy then it should have been picked up sooner.

Dolores should have told her if she could hear the heartbeat.

It…could give more context of why Isabela was acting very…odd and distanced but she hoped the girl understood what would come now; she had to marry the father. Their family had enough shame. Not an illegitimate baby.

“Hopefully, today’s event won’t push her into early labor but we’re having to wait and see.”

Alma stiffened as the realization was followed by the implication of what today’s event could do. That baby could die. Alma’s eyes flickered to her eldest daughter, watching her hold tightly onto Mirabel’s arm, reaching out to Luisa who had closed the gap and stood behind her and held her hand.

Alma knew her desire for great-grandchildren was there and that hadn’t changed but… regardless of the other factors in the child’s conception and…Alma had no idea how far along Isa truly was but she was not stupid with the consequences of an early birth. Her triplets had been worryingly early, but that was literally on the basis she couldn’t physically carry them for longer. Her body had limits.

“Baby? Isa’s having a baby?” Antonio’s voice was small and so innocent, “so, I won’t be the youngest?” He looked to have perked up before his huge eyes widen and his hands came to his cheek. “Oh no! We need to make an… an apology card! Make Isa know we’re very sorry and …and to keep the baby safe until it’s done cooking!” He wiggled off Dolores’s lap and ran off.

“Antonio…” Pepa called, following after him; taking the new flurry of weather with her.

Felix now looked far more serious, his arm lent onto the table and his eyes fixed on Camilo.

“Camilo, Go to your room.” Felix’s voice lost all warmth and that was enough for Camilo to jump up and more or less run away. “What are the risks? Is…there anything we can to do help Isabela?” He spoke directly to Vera now.

“Right now, no. It’s a waiting game.” Vera spoke, “Julieta’s gift has repaired the damage to her arm and restored blood but all that’s remaining is the scars. Isa didn’t want that to be healed away. She’s still on thin ice but as long as no one stresses her out, then the chances are she’ll deliver him in good time, not early.”

Him.

A boy.

A great-grandson.

It clicked now what Mirabel meant a few minutes ago when talking about ‘it’. Its well-being was hung in the balance and…. even Alma knew the death of that baby would hurt. She didn’t want that, even if the baby was…entirely unplanned. They had time to get Isa married, assuming that she was able to keep it. She hoped she could.

“Wait, is that the baby you were asking about?” Bruno asked, leaning forwards in his chair. “Is that the baby I saw?”

Vera looked at him calmly, despite the looks thrown his way, Alma included. Did he have a vision of the child?

“Si. It made sense that… what you described was moments of the family; near or far of when it will happen. The fact you mentioned he seemed fully developed at birth is the relief that he will be born in good time but…I can’t help but worry that he may be born sooner.” Vera sighed softly, pushing the glasses up her nose that slipped down.

“Bruno, why don’t you go to your vision cave and see?” Alma asked. “As…displeased that she’s this far along and unmarried, we need to get an idea of what time we have before his birth and…hoping he’s not at risk.”

Bruno shrunk down in his chair, “Ma… I don’t want to do visions. Not anymore.”

“We need to know, Bruno. That…baby is your great-nephew.”

“Let’s not put pressure on Bruno, Alma.” Vera interrupted sharply, “Since he’s already said the baby’s born healthy, there’s little need to force him to go through the entire picture.”

“It’s your great-grandson as well, do you not want to see if he develops well? Or better?”

“I will see it when it happens, Alma. I’m content to know he’ll be born healthy and that is all I can ask. No amount of looking forwards can change what’ll happen. He sees the future. We can’t change that.” Vera stood her ground, “It might be his gift, Alma but it’s still his gift. Can’t you respect the price he pays for it?”

Alma narrowed her gaze, “The price is necessary for the safety and sanctity of our family and of the Encanto.”

“I know you keep telling yourself that but you don’t have a gift, Alma. Neither do I or any of the in-laws have a gift.” Vera stated, “You don’t know the personal tolls of the gifts people have. I don’t but if someone doesn’t want to use their gift, it’s for a reason.”

“Señora Rojas is right,” Felix, of all people spoke up, his hand coming to Dolores’s arm with some affection, “gifts can be a heavy burden that I wish no one had to have.” Dolores gave him a small, tired smile.

“Not having a gift can have its own weight.” Agustín piped up, not as loud though his eyes were lingering on his youngest daughter and yet, Alma brushed past that.

“Let’s not all pile onto that boat, we’re not here to discuss that.” Alma decided; she had to keep some order and reverence, the rest could come later. 

“I think it should, Alma. Lower your demands on your family’s use of gifts and let the parents manage their children.” Vera spoke, “You are not your grandchildren’s keeper.”

“That doesn’t mean I can let them run amok.” Alma rose to her feet calmly but she just needed to get out and clear her head. But first, she had to talk to the priest. “The child’s father is the Marquez’s boy?” the one she had caught in the bed.

“Si.”

“Good. We need to make preparations for him and Isabela to marry before the child is born.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Mirabel was the first to answer with wide eyes, “You’re not…going to discuss it? And...you;re gonna force Isa into marriage again?”

“Right now, Mirabel we need to get both Isa and Señor Marquez married before the child is born for the family’s sake, for Isabela and the Baby’s sake,” Alma spoke because she knew Isa would share the same concerns; she wouldn’t want a bastard child so why not marry the father? If they were together this long before being found out, maybe there was a good foundation of marriage between them. “Dolores, where is Señora Marquez?”

Dolores’s face wiped off expression quickly, her eyes flickering to her father’s quickly.

“Dolores.” Alma raised her eyebrow.

“You won’t find him.” Dolores’s tone was cool. “They can’t marry in Encanto”

Alma blinked but could feel the growing frustration getting bigger in her gut. “Dolores, all I’m asking is a location of him.”

“And you won’t find him,” Dolores repeated tightly.

“Why not?”

Dolores swallowed thickly, shaking her head. “Abuela, you know I can hear everything that happen in Encanto, whenever I was younger and I told you, you told me to keep some things to myself or to stop lying.”

Alma’s head tilted, surprised that Dolores would remember that but it didn’t matter right as much. “What are you saying?”

“People are abusive, Abuela.” Dolores inhaled deeply. “I can hear their vile words or when they beat their children.”

A sharp intake was heard mostly from Julieta, one hand coming to her mouth while the other tightened onto Mirabel. Alma felt the welt of discomfort in her own stomach but she suppressed the urge to wave that off when it…clearly weighed on Dolores’s shoulder. Felix was clearly supporting his daughter by the way he rubbed her back.

“The Marquez family is one of them.”

“Oh god, is the baby at risk of that?” Mirabel asked. 

“No, Mateo Marquez is a victim of that abuse from his sister. From his mother too, when she was alive as well. His father doesn’t defend him.” Dolores looked down. “Abuela, you had Luisa take him to his home. To his abuser. I heard what she did to him. You won’t find him.” Her words finished with a bitter sneer before rose to her feet and walked off.

Leaving Alma to feel the cold seep into her gut at that implication.

  -

Felix knew there was…a lot to unpack and he felt both shame and struggle that he hadn’t expected. He was glad that Pepa had seen to their youngest to help him get together the while they had talked but he also wished she had been there to be part of it; to understand more of what had all happened.

He could feel the weight was off Dolores’s shoulders more but the implication of the…baby’s father was chilling. He could only imagine that…Isa knew by now he was most likely gone, but with no proof they couldn’t do anything to the Marquez girl. Felix didn’t yet try to open that gate of awaiting grief but he was glad to see his wife in their son’s room, Antonio sitting at his desk with his animals around him.

Parce was there, but hung by tree roots with a sad demeanour but it wasn’t without reason. Felix hadn’t been there but Luisa had mentioned that she had literally freed the jaguar from the vines that Isa had wrapped him up in—in self-defense—and no one else had been willing to approach him for what had happened. It was unspoken but it would be good for the jaguar to not be seen in public during the day. He’d probably have to talk to Antonio about letting the wild cat out at night for hunting but that was for later.

Dolores, he knew needed some time but he planned to see her again once he had spoken to Pepa about their eldest son and got a plan of action.

“How is everything going?” Felix asked, slipping into the room with a warm smile at his youngest. All around him, he had drawings and half-written notes. Antonio looked to be coloring in a picture of a stick-figure of Isa with basic flowers and a….egg shape thing with a smiling face on.

“I’m almost done!” Antonio spoke, “Mama helped with the words and…and I’m just finishing the font picture.”

“I see, what’s this?” Felix knelt next to him, picking up the card.

“That Isa and the baby,” Antonio said, “Isn’t It obvious?”

“Oh, yes. I see it now.” Felix leaned down, kissing the side of his head. “How are you feeling now, Mijo?”

Antonio paused, looking down. “About…about what happened? Sad”

Pepa’s cloud darkened a little but she put on a brave face nonetheless. “It’s okay to be sad.” She spoke.

Antonio nodded. “I know but… Does Isabela hate me now? I want to see the baby when it’s ready to pop out but… but if she hates me I won’t!” His lip wavered, “I don’t want the baby to hate me too..” His eyes welled up.

“Mijo…” Pepa sighed sadly, “You know, what happened wasn’t your fault.”

“You’re mother’s right, Toñito, it wasn’t your fault. I’m sure Isa understands that you had no part in what happened.”

“but…but Parce is my friend..”

“Who acted on your brother’s order…that wasn’t you and I know Isa probably understands that as well.” Felix reasoned. “you making this card for her is a wonderful start to making her feel better, okay.”

Antonio sniffed but brightened up a little. “I want to give it to her when it’s done.”

“Alright, but Antonio, for now; you cannot bring Parce or let Parce be around Isabela.”

Antonio nodded, “I know, it could scare the baby out of her and… and I don’t want that to happen.”

Felix nodded and smiled, “Thank you for being so incredibly understanding. I’m sure Isa would definitely appreciate that as well. When you’re done, why don’t you find Mirabel and ask her to take you down to the doctor’s house to give it to her.” Felix ruffled his hair before he let himself become more serious. “Right now, me and your mother need to talk to your brother and we need to be undisturbed for that. It’s a very important conversation.”

“Okay, Papi.” Antonio didn’t look overly invested but he seemed to understand so Felix rose back to his feet, offering an arm to his wife.

Pepa lent down and kissed Antonio’s head and took Felix’s hand and they hurried from his room and knocked on Camilo’s door first before they entered.

Camilo was on his bed, laid against his headboard and arms folded over his chest and glared across to the mirrors. Camilo’s nose had thankfully stopped bleeding and he now wore a fresh ruana but he looked bitter as he sat between his pillows.

His posture didn’t change, even when they had entered.

“Mama, Pa… look. I’m sorry about what happened.” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to let it get out of hand but I’m perfectly justified in defending myself here.”

Pepa’s clouds darkened more, the air turning cool. “There’s a fine line between using your gift to shapeshift out of the vines and another of using your brother’s toothy friends on your cousin,” Pepa spoke.

Camilo looked…a little bothered but not much which Felix found hard to understand. Why did Camilo not care? Did he hate his cousin that much? That was not how he wanted to raise his son to be and he wasn’t going to let it pass either.

“Camilo,” Felix gave him a stern, but disappointed look, “You could still be responsible for the death of Isa’s baby if she delivers it too soon. Do you understand the weight of that? A familia death.”

Camilo didn’t hold his gaze at that. “I didn’t mean to do that! I didn’t know!”

“But you still hurt Isabela. You did harm.” Felix spoke harshly, watching the 16-year-old flinch back at his tone. “So what would have changed if you knew, Camilo?

“I…I don’t know” Camilo admitted. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“If the news spread that you had a hand in attacking a pregnant woman of in his own family, how do you think that will be received? A baby’s life on the line…. I don’t want that for you.” Felix fretted, “I know you had a hand in revealing what Isa did to Mirabel in the first place but… I don’t know how long it’ll be kept quiet.”

Camilo looked down, arms lessening up. “I’m sorry.”

“Felix, this was still an accident.” Pepa spoke up, “I am…so disappointed in what happened but… this was in what was perceived as self-defense.”

Felix looked to Pepa in surprise, “He still needs to be punished accordingly.”

“Si, I agree but not right now. We’ll…wait until we know for sure the baby won’t be born before we decide.”

Felix stared at her for a long moment then down to his son. “Right now, Camilo you’re not to leave Casita nor are you allowed any extra food beyond what you need.” Felix had made the effort to put together a small selection of high-calorie snacks for Camilo that had worked for the last seven days to stop the teen from sneaking out to eat at night given Dolores had mentioned his night-shifted a lot and needed to eat as a result.

He wouldn’t take it away but he wanted Camilo to use it for its sole purpose and nothing more.

“We’ve still got a lot to discuss but that’s a good start.” Pepa nodded, “We’ve got to talk to your Abuela as well so she knows.”

Felix was surprised as Pepa nodded him out but followed, he hadn’t planned to be done talking to their son so soon. Clearly, this was private.

“Perhaps we need to be more delicate,” Pepa spoke after he shut their bedroom door behind them. “I don’t…condone what happened but… he was oblivious to what happened in terms of the stone bricks falling. That was the cause.”

“Pepa,” Felix stared at her in alarm. “He could have killed her or, what’s still possible, the baby.”

“I know that,” Pepa let out a shaky breath, snow appearing from her cloud. “But this is different from what happened between Isa and Mirabel, Felix. Isa reacted in anger after retraining Mirabel, Camilo panicked in her vines and couldn’t get out. He couldn’t have defended himself against her gift. Of course, he’s going to use what he had available in what he thought was a life-death situation.”

Felix stared in almost disbelief. “The situations may be different but the result is the same. If Isabela did nothing, our son may be injured or worse, dead.” He reached forwards, taking her hands as the shot of wing flurried through his clothes. “Isabela still saved him. That should count for something.”

Pepa nodded, “I know that…and I am grateful for it. but… Camilo has justification for his actions. Parce still chose to react and Antonio said it himself that Parce wasn’t trying to kill Isabela. He showed a lot of restraint.”

“That’s not a comfort.”

Pepa huffed sharply, the air turning wetter as sleet set in to replace the snow. “Look, we’re still Camilo’s parents. He needs us on his side as well. Camilo needs to see you’re on his side too.”

“There are no sides,” Felix reasoned, hoping but already dreading this conversation was going to resulting an argument.

“Then why are you ignoring Camilo’s feelings, Felix?” Pepa asked. “I’ve seen all the shit that’s happened with Julieta and Agustín with their daughters. We need to do better for our kids as well so we don’t wind up like that. I won’t want to be an Abuela from Camilo when he’s not even eighteen. We have to think of them. Supporting Camilo regardless, Supporting Dolores and supporting Antonio.”

“His feelings are important.” Felix agreed, “But so are Isabela and the rest of the family. We don’t have to make sacrifices here! She didn’t deserve that! She needs support as well, Pepa.”

A crack of thunder echoed next before Pepa pulled away from his touch. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

“Get out,” Pepa repeated, her wind pushing against his chest, knocking over a few pictures in the room, the weather vane spinning rapidly now along the side. “If you’re not on your son’s side then I need some space to think. Your son should come first, Felix. Our son.”