#Bat-Gran rants

[meara-eldestofthemall]

Hello again bat-gran 👋

I appreciated your answer on the Robins situation, it intrigued me.

How would you have written Damian/where would you like his writing to go?

Poor Damian is simultaneously the Batfamily character with the most potential and the worst possible character development. If you go all the way back to his introduction it was fairly clear that readers were supposed to loathe him. He was an arrogant and rude little princeling with a chip on his shoulder the size of Cleveland.

Damian was such a brat that he even managed to exhaust Alfred's patience, which is a real feat considering the man raised Bruce.

Everyone knows that in his later interaction with Tim in this issue (Batman #657) Damian proves what a superior person he is by killing the first criminal he came across. He then tossed the decapitated head, (with a grenade in it's mouth) at Tim to make a point.

The most important thing to take away from this is that Damian has been raised in a cult that operates on the same upward mobility scheme as the Klingon Empire. In order to get ahead, you kill the person in your way. That' s exactly what Damian tried to do.

Damian was originally conceived as an anti-hero at least and a full blown villain at worst. He was supposed to be a great source of angst for Batman to darkly brood over for years. The only problem was that about half of the fandom loved hyper-violent, rude and nasty Damian. DC now had to figure out how to redeem him enough to work with Batman.

They actually did come up with a method that worked. During Battle For The Cowl Damian saved Tim's life in a very Damian way.

This was the moment that could have changed everything. This is where I would have had Damian reluctantly (very reluctantly) allow the idea that maybe his father's way of doing things had a tiny bit of merit after all. To be honest, I wouldn't have changed much of the Dick Grayson Batman and Damian Wayne Robin arc. You had a much sunnier Batman with Robin as the grim dark little gremlin a lot of people loved. Damian actually showed some positive character development without losing the edge that made him popular.

What would I have changed? This...

All the progress Damian made was unceremoniously tossed onto the garbage heap. The moment the kid got angry with Tim he went right into assassin mode and tried to kill him - again. Worst of all, there were no real consequences for his actions. Instead we're supposed to sympathize with the fact that Damian's feelings were hurt.

The impression left with the reader is that Damian maybe got a stern to talking to from Dick but that was about it. It does not help the conversation above seems to lay the blame on Tim for not having a stronger password.

This is the crux of the problem that followed Damian for years. DC seemed to actively undo any positive character development to keep him static. Damian was not allowed to be anything other than rude, arrogant and hyper-violent. He worked abysmally with Bruce's Batman, so much so that it set in stone the idea that Bruce was incapable of being a good Dad to Damian. Damian's character waffled between hero, anti-hero and kind-of-sort-of villain repeatedly. Not too long ago they were setting him up to be a bad guy yet again. Remember when Damian had his own private prison and then resigned from being Robin?

Why would DC continually do that to a character with so much potential?

What I would do with Damian is what we're now seeing. He went off and had his obligatory Robin-right-of-passage adventure on a mysterious island. Damian came back a better character. His relationship with Tim is improved enough that they still bicker dreadfully but are actually more like brothers.

I really like what I'm seeing in Batman and Robin. This is how Damian should be written. He's still got his edge and doesn't suffer fools well but he's working towards a positive future.

So, if you'll forgive this pedantic old Bat-Gran, my point is that what I want to see, what I as a writer would do, is keep him more on the path of the current Batman and Robin series and less of what we see in the current Batman series.

Most of all I would write Damian consistently, not vary the basics of his personality from book to book. That is the cardinal flaw that has always plagued DC.

Who I want Damian to be is a young man who is just beginning to discover that he can choose his own future. My version of Damian can honor his heritage but still move forward into the best version of himself. He can be someone who, perhaps like many teens, has no idea what he'll be in ten years but does know that it's a path he chooses for himself, not one forced on him by either the Waynes or the Al Ghuls.

I just hope I live long enough to see that. I'm already 67 so I hope DC stops messing around gets to it, please.

So, are you sorry you asked?

[gentrychild]

Au where all might finds shigaraki on the street efore afo does.

Hehe, that's what happens in Anyone but I will write another AU for fun.

After the Evil Granny that I trust as far as far as I can throw her is all "Oh, I am sure a hero will help! Eventually!", an exhausted giant blond man holding several bags of groceries, wearing a cap, and generally looking like he had four hours of sleep in the whole week, appears and is "Well, maybe you could call the police to help the obviously traumatized barefoot child walking in the street? Or do you think the heroes know about problems thanks to the power of telepathy??? Because next time I saw, there wasn't a All Might-themed-bat signal anywhere in Japan!"

After a well deserved rant, Toshinori asked Tenko to tell him what happened, has a two seconds breakdown when he realizes the implications of his master's family being GONE except for Tenko, tells him that everything will be alright, gives him some candies and a HUG, and goes to work. Meanwhile, AFO is seething because All Might intercepted a perfectly good orphan but he is already making the arrangements to snatch Tenko as soon as he hit the foster system.

Meanwhile, when All Might asks whoever was his police liaison (it was 15 years ago so I doubt it was Tsukauchi) at the time to find a good family for Tenko, bursts out laughing and explains that not many foster families will want a child with an extremely dangerous quirk who just murdered his entire family (dog included) by accident. So All Might becomes his foster dad. He leaves him with Gran Torino when he is working, which means... pretty much all the time. If AFO was even more furious, he would spontaneously combust.

Tenko grows up loved by his Uncle Might and his Gran, helped by a very good therapist, and wants to become a hero because he wants to atone for some stuff. At some point, All Might ambushes find Endeavor and is "You have kids! I have one small human! What about they play together?" and before Endeavor can refuse, Rei accepts. Touya loathes having to babysit the kids (no matter how much Fuyumi and Tenko reminds him that he is also a kid) because he has to get his flames hotter thanks to the power of Hatred, like his internet friend, A41, explained to him. Only for Tenko to kinda graphically details him what happened when he fueled his quirk with the power of panic and destroyed his entire house. Touya goes "Oh" and does not set a hill on fire in this AU. At this point, AFO's fury at All Might could power half of the country.

A few years later, Tenko adopts as a kohai a problem magnet with a quirk named Hoard (definitely no link or relationship with All for One, it's definitely just a coincidence, just like the curls) so All Might is now uncle in law of the kid and loves him so I get both Dadmight and brother bonding between Tenko and Izuku. Also, I don't care who I have to age down or up but I want school shenanigans. Half of the League is in UA. Just a bunch of hellions who keeps getting in trouble and having adventures and Everything Is Fine.

+1. It's the AU where no one wants OFA. Toshinori tried to give him to Tenko who pointed out the sheer damage he can do without it and said "NOPE." He tried Touya who reminded him that he barely kept his fire from cremating him now and he didn't want to try after he got the murder-flame-go-BOOM quirk. Izuku took one look at the quirk and declared it haunted. Finally, poor Mirio accepts and almost dies thanks to the "Whoops, the strain will kill you unless you're quirkless or can use more than one quirk safely" rule and Izuku is "... I guess... that if there is... no one else... it's... what... a hero... would do..." while All Might is swearing left and right that OFA and that he don't bite and please, give it a chance. T_T

[mysteriouslybrokenmentality]

All of this stems from me thinking about that time All Might punched Izuku on the beach. Also none of this really expands on how the other students of 1-A and U.A. interact with Izuku.

Hey, y'all ever think about the fact that before U.A. Izuku had never had any good teachers, (that we've seen) all of his teachers were complicit in or encouraging of his bullying. So he probably doesn't have much trust in teacher figures. I mean, sure All Might is the #1 hero and his idol, but during his first ever in person interaction with him he shattered his dreams and then flimsily builds them up again with the 'gift' of a quirk, training Izuku for the power. (Kind of telling him he needs to change himself if he wants to be worthy of having a quirk, even if All Might means in the physical sense). ALSO, All Might (who was quirkless before Nana gave him One For All) is implying to Izuku that the only reason he's worth effort is that when he is given OFA he won't be quirkless. Izuku is gifted the status of human. A quirk is necessary to be treated right, granted human rights, and considered of worth. Ok he gets into U.A. then in his first ever class with All Might as a teacher, he's essentially complicit in Bakugou's treatment of Izuku just like all other teachers he's had. (Also he has no teaching license?) (Bakugou should have been trained in the correct and appropriate usage of his gauntlets). Now Aizawa is another story teacher & trust wise. When he first meets him with the quirk test Aizawa seems to write him off, yes he doesn't have the full story of Izuku's life previously but it should be in Izuku's file that his quirk status was recently changed, Aizawa should have known. Teachers don't normally read all their students files in upper grades (idk about other countries but in the U.S. I mean). Though I know they all at least have important information skimmed. Like IEP's and learning disabilities and special needs. However because this world is different from ours and Aizawa is meant to be training these kids and that's his main focus, taking care of them, he should read all of their files, not just like extreme basics (I'm not even going into my thoughts about treatment of other students in 1-A).

During USJ I think Izuku kind of begins to develop the first dregs of trust in Aizawa, or at least kind of develop the idea that Aizawa won't just outright let him die, because of how hard Aizawa fought for the kids (and Izuku knows his fighting style and abilities so he understands what this fight is for Aizawa) but he wouldn't trust him emotionally what so ever. That brings me to the Sports Festival, All Might tells Izuku to 'show the world he is here' but he gives no Izuku 0 guidelines and no guidance for how to do that or to what extent so Izuku just tries his best to frantically fit what he thinks is All Might's standards for him are to avoid upsetting the person who gave him worth (😒). Then after his fight with Todoroki where he breaks his arms terribly, to the extent of nerve damage and permanent disability, Recovery Girl tells him she won't heal these types of injuries again. So Izuku is back to patching himself up just like he would after Bakugou's beat downs, out of his fear of angering his teachers, without any support. Isolated again. Next is internships, Gran Torino is actually pretty good, if a little harsh. He treats Izuku like he would a perfectly normal teenager but Izuku is anything but, he's got truama all over the place. Gran Torino'a prank is not funny for someone who's been told to off themself and beaten down their whole life. Then all the Stain shit happens where Izuku is literally just trying to save his friend from dying and he actually calls for back up like he should! And gets reprimanded for it (like should he have just let Iida die??? Damn). After internships is final exams. His idol, his teacher, beats him down, using him as a baseball bat to smack another student. (Why are they fighting people who should be taking care of them and guiding them, and does All Might not understand that these are 15 year olds. Like sure villains won't go easy on them but god damn dude). Not only that but while Izuku attempts to work with Bakugou, he gets punched in the face. And no one acknowledges it so he's right back to previous school experiences where Bakugou hurts him for no reason and no teacher does anything. Izuku is perfect at working with others, using his quirk ingeniously, strategizing against a wide range of foes and more, why is he being used to correct Bakugou, to help Bakugou. Why aren't they helping him better himself?? Why aren't they giving him a challenge that's right for him. It's not like he won't work with Bakugou for lack of trying, and Bakugou is his abuser so I don't think it's wrong of Izuku to not want to work with him. They had to have been watching! It's an exam. And after that is training camp, and Bakugou's kidnapping. Not only does Izuku shatter his arms saving a like 7 year old from a sociopathic mass murderer. Izuku then feels it's his fault that Bakugou was kidnapped by the League, thus he feels responsible to rescue him, and none of the teachers even give them the reassurance that they're actually doing anything to save Bakugou so they take it into their own hands. (Also, counseling, excuse me U.A. get these kids some therapy??? So much trauma, from just their time at U.A. alone not counting previous traumas). And then Kirishima basically guilt trips him into going to get Bakugou back while Ixuku is still recovering from shattered arms, yet again. So Izuku goes and then his friend (Someone he saved from becoming a murderer!!! Well, saved him from death via serial killer.), punches him in the face while Izuku is trying to, PEACEFULLY, reason with him.

Then, after they succeed and Izuku watched his idol, his teacher, his mentor, get almost killed. And Izuku meets All Might on the beach probably thinking All Might will try to comfort and reassure him, and most likely wanting to check on All Might. And he walks up to this paragon of safety and peace, and gets punched in the face. WHAT THE HELL. Okay sure All Might then goes on to tell Izuku he's proud of what he did and blah blah blah. But it's never acknowledged that All Might, his teacher and idol, punches him in the face for doing something risky??? No adult should use injury and violence as a punishment against a child. No matter how frustrated, annoyed, upset, and/or angry with the child they are. It's unacceptable.

And that's not even taking into account everything else that happens later. Like dorms happen, Aizawa and All Might come to everyone's house to talk about taking their children and boarding them at U.A together. But when they come to Izuku, Aizawa let's the man with no teaching license talk to the Midoryias alone (😒). I'm with Inko, they've failed Izuku in so many ways already! Why should she let them take him from her completely? But All Might uses his social/political weight as ex-symbol of peace to 'convince' her to let Izuku move into the dorms. So now they all move in and gather on the front lawn with Aizawa. And he basically publicly shames the kids who went to Kamino for going, even though they didn't tell them what was happening or reassure the kids that they were already planning to rescue him. EVEN THOUGH the kids didn't fight, didn't engage, they literally were all released from the hospital and out of school, under the watch and care of their parents, not explicitly told not to go, weren't told not to follow Momo's tracker, and actually acted in a logical manner to save their friend (though Bakugou is not Izuku's friend 😒😒😒). What they did wasn't even technically illegal because even if there was an attempt to charge them with public quirk usage; Todoroki was the only one to use his quirk and they could claim self defense. The school has no control over them being in Kamino, it's a place you can't forbid someone from going to a public place. So they shouldn't be reprimanded. Honestly Aizawa should have been proud of them (I think he's jealous there was nothing he could do for Oboro when they lost him during school). And next is the license exams which is a whole other thing. I should stop here because it's a lot. HAHAHA NOPE. Okay, so they develop their special moves but not really given and guidance or hints on how or anything. Like I get this is something they need to do for themselves but there should be some sort of basis. They're still kids, 15-16 years old. I understand that they're training to be heroes (which I have thoughts on child soldiers man but that's not what this is about) but still! License exam day comes and Aizawa hasn't really given them much on what they'll be doing, how it will work, and who else will be there (😒). This is about as far as my rant will go until I've watched more of the anime and read more of the manga. I'm a little behind but that stems from personal problems so. I'll update this further when I watch/read more of the story.

This was originally posted like 3/24/21 but it's been edited 3/28/21.😘

[yukippe]

wonder what she thinks of me

for @yuekiweek ​ day 3: reunions | word count: 2.3k | read on ao3

��you need to buy your books suki!!” sokka lectures through the phone. last year suki didn’t buy the books for any of her classes and she was fine. she isn’t actually planning on buying books this year either, except now sokka’s roped her into coming to his book club and she can’t lie and say she doesn’t like to watch sokka rant about something dumb while enjoying the baked goods that sokka will have convinced his gran gran and his parents to make for them.

unfortunatley, this means suki has to brave the bookstore during some fancy author signing to try to buy the book sokka’s demanded everyone read for next week. he’s still talking through the phone, though suki’s mostly tuned him out. she’s normally much better at listening to sokka’s rants, but the bookstore is packed with awkward high school students and suki would rather not, at the moment. she slips around a table of overpriced waterbottles and planners and weaves past a random grandpiano over to one of the computers with the bookstore directory. “sokka,” suki asks as she almost trips over a four year old holding a picture book. “why did you have to send me to this bookstore at this time?”

there’s a huff on the other end of the line and suki sighs deeply, “suki, please you should be thankful! they’re running a special discount if you buy a tote bag to go with the book this weekend!!” well. okay, maybe suki collects tote bags and sokka is probably being a good friend. but suki hasn’t been to this store before, having not bothered with buying her textbooks last year and getting anything for fun as an ebook. but sokka believes in the experience of a physical copy or whatever, so tote bags and author signings it is. 

suki puts her phone between her shoulder and ear as she sets her fingers onto the keyboard of the computer directory, “hey, what’s the name of the book again?”

“have you listened to anything i’ve ever said to you?” sokka asks her. suki can picture him in their apartment at his desk, doing something fancy with math as he coaches her through a bookstore, pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration. suki doesn’t actually need him to tell her the name of the book, she just likes to rile him up sometimes. she types in the title. suki thanks him for his help, asks him if hes found his glasses yet (the same glasses she hid before she left) and hangs up with a smirk.

adaptation by malinda lo. there, young adult section. it’s supposedly sci fi thriller and sokka, though he lacks taste in most things, has always had solid book taste. suki looks around for the sign to section she needs and spots it, tucked behind a tech display and next to the little cafe. suki walks over, eager to grab her book and get out of the shop. she walks through the shelves searching for the author’s with the last name l. malinda lo. there, suki reaches out to pluck the book of the shelf, when the back of her hand brushes against someone else. 

suki steps back, book in hand, to look at the girl next to her. she has brown hair in a pretty updo and really cute heart shaped beaded earrings. she looks familiar, but suki isn’t sure where she recognizes her from. 

“hi,” the other girl says, her voice sounds like a princess. all bells and whistling wind. 

“uh,” suki coughs, smiling crookedly and titling her head. “hi!” 

the other girl giggles at her, but her smile is warm and suki finds herself settling. “i’m yue - so adaptation? what made you interested in it?”

“oh, my friend is hosting a book club and this is this months pick,” suki tells her. maybe she should have done a little more research on the book before she’d shown up. she hadn’t really pictured a bookstore as the spot to meet a cute girl. 

“oh!” yue says, surprised. “i have the same one assigned for my book club. do you want to grab something to drink and let me tell you about it?”

“sure,” suki says, her smile growing even wider. “that sounds great” 

yue winks at her as she grabs the same book of the shelf, “perfect, there’s this bubble tea place a block a way i want to show you.” yue turns on her heel, her hair falling onto her back as yue bounces in her steps. suki checks to make sure her flannel is neat and her docs are tied before hurrying after yue. 

the two of them wait in line one behind the other at the register and yue flips through the display before the register of pins and pens and bookmarks. a rainbow lion turtle eraser set catches suki’s eye and she lifts it up to her face to look at it closer. it’s the type of thing aang would like, so suki puts it on top of her book when she gets to the register. after she picks out the simplest canvas tote bad (most of them have obnoxious book puns katara would make fun of her for months about) and pays, suki finds yue waiting by the door peeling a sticker off of a sticker sheet suki remembers seeing on the display. 

“so,’ yue asks. “where do you want your sticker?”

suki blinks, “what?”

yue waves the - oh it’s a hello kitty sticker with fairy wings. suki blinks at it, “um. cute?” she gets a smile for her efforts and then yue leans in and grabs her wrist, turning suki’s hand around and carefully placing the sticker onto the back of suki’s right hand. 

“so,” yue says, after failing once more to steal a drink of suki’s boba. her mouth is screwed up in a light pout, but it feels teasing. “do you go to ba sing se u?”

only a little while later, they are wandering to nowhere in particular, still holding hands. yue keeps trying to steal a sip of suki’s drink even though when suki ordered yue had made a face at the idea of coffee boba. yue’s own drink is sweet like her. strawberry, reportedly to match yue’s nails which are done up in a neat mimic of the fruit. 

suki nods, squeezing yue’s hand and lifting her drink over her head, too high up for yue to reach, though that doesn’t stop yue from playfully batting at it. neither of them caring about what passerby might think as they wobble on the sidewalk smiling at each other full of silliness. “yeah, i’m majoring in gender and women's studies with a minor in literature and art.”

yue lights up, the way she’s done every time suki’s shared a fact with her. suki’s face feels flushed, yue makes her feel like she’s on her first date ever. “oh wow!” yue says. “i’m majoring in four nations politics with a minor in theology and spiritual studies but i would love to see what your classes must be like. i think i could be a student forever, you know?”

and then yue doesn’t let go of suki’s wrist. instead, she links their fingers together and suki watches their hands held together hang between them. she looks up and smiles at yue, stupidly happy for a moment. and really, suki doesn’t even know for sure if yue is into girls even if yue does seem to be flagging. for now, suki just lets yue tug her down the street as her phone buzzes in her new tote bag with texts from sokka she’ll ignore for now. 

“hm, not really, i think one degree is enough for me. but academics are cute,” suki says, watching as yue swings their hands back and forth as they walk. they’re both absolutely terrible at walking together, suki’s noticed. they can’t seem to walk in a straight line and suki’s almost fallen off the sidewalk twice already. it’s nice. suki’s finding that yue makes her comfortable everywhere. 

“oh?” yue asks, her eyes twinkling. “does that mean you think i’m cute, suki?”

“hmmm,” suki teases out, a trace of laughter in her voice as yue finally manages to dart forward to steal her drink, finally realizing her success would be increased if she let go of suki’s hand. suki doesn’t even mind that much, wow. “well,” suki settles, after a moment of false consideration. “yeah, i think you’re pretty cute.”

yue winks at her, the same way she did in the bookstore, and takes a sip of suki’s bubble tea. then she makes a completely disgusted expression shoving suki’s drink back at her. “suki! that’s so gross, tui and la, how do you drink that?” 

suki can’t help the laugh that spills out of her as yue sticks her tongue out and crosses her eyes, making a fuss that shouldn’t be as sweet as it is. well, suki’s always been a sucker for clowns. suki reaches out and links their hands back together and they both sip at their drink as they seem to stop together at the bus.

they make shy eye contact as a bus comes up to the stop. “so,” yue says. “i’ve got to go, i’m meeting up with a friend. but this was really fun, right?”

suki smiles, “yeah, it was really fun.”

“that’s great! i really liked talking with you!” yue informs her. then, yue leans forward and kisses suki’s cheek before turning around, and her earrings sparkle in the sunlight as she jumps onto the bus right before the bus doors close and it pulls away with the rest of the flow of traffic. suki blinks and watches it go, still feeling the soft touch of yue’s lips on her cheek.

when suki pulls her phone out of her bag to video call sokka he immediately points out the lipstick mark on her cheek and she resolves not to give him any details, no matter how much he pesters her 

-

two weeks later, after bemoaning to ty lee about how she was dumb and completley forgot to ask the cute girl she met at the book store for her number, she sees yue again. at sokka’s book club.

the members of the secret book club hadn’t been a surprise for the most part, consisting of sokka (obviously), aang (one of sokka’s only friends who wasn’t a gay girl), azula, mai, ty lee and suki (the gay girls sokka was friends with). sokka’s parents, hakoda, kya and bato, had baked with sokka all last night and prepared a whole table full of snacks that sokka had made her haul over to their apartment. suki thinks it’s a ridiculous amount of food for their handful of friends, and then she and sokka ate a good section of it before their friends even show up.

mai, sokka and azula are arguing over the finer points of the book already even though the meeting has yet to officially start. sokka and azula, to be fair, have actual opinions that they are fiercly defending from their spots on the floor as mai causes problems on purpose on the couch she and ty lee stole as soon as they stepped through the front door. 

there was only one person that had yet to arrive, and apparently only aang had met her before. azula had raised an eyebrow at the pronoun and asked sokka if he’d made friends with another gay girl. the answer had been yes, and suki who was looking for another chance at talking to a cute gay girl after flopping earlier in the month and failing at getting yue’s number or social media or anything, was looking forward to meeting the newest cute gay girl sokka was friends with. 

sokka had impeccable taste in cute gay girls (besides azula). so really, maybe suki shouldn’t have been so surprised to answer the door when the bell rang to find yue holding a tray of pastries. 

yue stands out in the hallway with its broken light, looking as pretty as the moon in the sky. her face breaks into a smile at the sight of suki, and suki’s sure her expression matches. “suki?!” yue asks. “wow, small world huh?”

suki nods back, her cheeks starting to hurt with how big she was beaming. “so,” suki says. “do you think i could make up for last week and get your number?”

laughter comes from behind suki, and suki knows her friends are probably making fun of them right now, but she’s too interested in yue’s answer to pay any attention. 

yue rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t stop smiling, “of course suki, now do you want to help me bring these in so i can program it into your phone? no excuses not to call me this time.”

“don’t worry,” suki says as she takes the sweets from yue. “i’ll be sure to blow your phone up more than sokka when he’s trying to prove a point.”

she’s rewarded with another kiss to her cheek (and teasing from her friends at another lipstick stain) and yue’s number in her phone saved as yue🌙💖😘. 

yue, through suki’s phone, texts something to herself and suki leans over yue’s shoulder to see what it is. 

omg yue you’re so hot please go out with me <3

suki bumps yue’s shoulder as best as she can with her hands full and raises an eyebrow. “so, yue?” suki asks. “will you go out with me?”

yue giggles, her lipgloss sparkles and suki wonders what it tastes like, “of course, suki.” 

a few seconds later, suki has her question answered and can confidently report that yue’s lipgloss tastes like mango. 

suki passes the tray off to sokka, who was helpfully waiting right behind her with the tried familiar expression of accidentally setting up his exes. then, suki tugs yue into the loveseat, kicking out aang who had been sprawled across it.

book club is much more fun than suki was expecting, though almost all things are improved, suki finds, when she’s hanging out with her friends and eating sweets and practically sitting in the girl she likes lap while yue braids her hair and teases sokka with her. yue winks at her as aang and ty lee stop azula and sokka from getting into a fistfight with mai and sticks another hello kitty sticker onto her cheek. suki leans over and kisses the same spot on yue. fair is fair after all. 

[i-am-robie]

gay family anon here: our family is the fucking best. my cousin went on an angry rant when he got drunk about my gran calling our cousin’s girlfriend her “lodger” (they were living together) and one night at dinner my sister did the math and the table was 56% gay. we all have an amazing time, all the parents are very supportive (my uncle ditched the other parents to come hang out with us by the fire). highly recommend having majority gay family 10/10

the only downside is newtons 3rd law: every action has an equal and opposite reaction so the other side of the family are massive trumpets and my grandpa is homophobic. what can you do :/

MASSIVE TRUMPETS

But I hear you. My uncle is homophobic which sucks for my gay cousin and honestly her straight sister has been a saving grace when it comes to that side of the fam. And also just cause you got a lot of queer to look to doesn’t mean you aren’t still scared to come out/be yourself.

Society is still what it is. But it’s definitely nice to have people you’re close to go to bat for you. Good on your angry cousin.

[sporadic-bursts-of-energy]

My reaction to chap. 277(Spoiler-free)

you could probably put together a couple points from this but I didn’t explicity say anything

title is scaring me straight off the bat IS2G DO NOT HURT HIM Yesss Bakugo Stay Strong Use your ultimate move ENDEAVOR dont do anything to stupid like dismiss those who actually know whats going on please, like I'm begging you rn. THANK GOD FOR THAT ONE HERO THATS HELPING AIZAWA OUT RN CAUSE AS LONG AS THAT DUO IS GOOD WE'RE GOOD RIGHT????? please say yes this is too stressful of an arc Shiggy STAY AWDAY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA That line though.... "Give it to me..."(Not saying the rest cause spoilers) But it gives so many implications about both of the main powers here. The next post I actually make will probably have spoilers just so I can rant about what that line might imply K so slightly less implication now BUT STILL IMPLICATIONS Shiggy is like if you combined Midoriya and Bakugo into one person but made him evil. Gran.... I'm sorry for u. BUT ALSO BE CAREFUL YES BAKUGO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MT LADY COMING THROUGH AT THE END STAY STRONG GIRL I BELIEVE IN YOU

K so its over now and I'm so scared for the next chapter. The way they're going about this arc it seems kinda both like it's gonna be the finale and like it's only the beginning so I am so scared. So, so scared. Also, WHERE DID DABI GO? Like am I blanking or did he just have that one convo(an extremely aggressive one but still) with the bird and then hasn't shown up since then.

[unsuccesscr]

Baaaaah good afternoon everyone and welcome to my Bias List aka “HD finally has an excuse to gush so every one better strap in this is going to be a loooooooooong post”

First a note to all the personals following me: Thank you so much for your support and love for Quirkless Izuku! Personals get a bad rap in the RP community but honestly? Y’all have been super respectful and I haven’t had any problems with my threads being reblogged or anything like that. So, thank you again!

Next, a note for duplicates: I’m not going to tag any in this post because I don’t want to run the risk of making anyone uncomfortable or intimidating anyone. That said; I love and appreciate every single interpretation of Izuku. You are all fantastic, seriously, and I can’t even describe how awesome it feels whenever one of you follows me or likes one of my posts or reblogs a promo. It’s like “yay! this amazing blog likes me!” even if our headcanons don’t mesh there’s literally no such thing as an invalid Izuku portrayal. So if you’re reading this? Thank you for existing!

Last, a note for anyone not mentioned by name: Unfortunately tumblr does put a limit on how many people can be tagged in one post and so there’s a limit as to how many people I can mention here. But even if you’re not tagged know that I love you and i’m so grateful for you and I honestly this RPC is one of the best i’ve ever been in and that’s because of Everyone so! Thank You!

Alright, moving on, here are my biases;

1. The Deku Squad; People who I regularly interact with both in character and out, or who are otherwise significant to me and/or my portrayal of Izuku

@amplifyingtrace This should come as a surprise to no one who has followed me for any length of time but I ADORE Kit. It takes so so so much work to make an original character, and Leia is amazing. I am 100% not joking when I say sometimes I get disappointed reading the manga and not seeing her there. I cannot imagine Izuku without Leia, and some of the most defining part of my portrayal have come from my threads with Kit. Not to mention Kit is just? An incredibly kind and wonderful person. I look forward to our out of character interactions just as much as our threads.

@hgkre Cinder! What words are there to describe Cinder and their Tooru? None are even close to being good enough. Tooru is such an underappreciated character even in canon and Cinder has turned her into one of my absolute favorites. Every headcanon from Tooru’s blindness to her strength to her tendency to push herself and not let anyone know her pain for their sake has endeared her to me (and Izuku) in ways I cannot even fathom. Not to mention Cinder themselves is a good person! Amazing and kind and uses my Icon psd even though they totally don’t have to and aaaaaaaaaaah.

@steelhardpecs Soda is a true rock, the real MVP, a ride or die. He has put up with absolutely ENDLESS bullshit from me constantly in his IMs ranting about how Izuku’s a slytherin or whatever shit i’m on that day. And much more importantly? His Tetsu is the BOMB. Seriously so much thought has been put into every headcanon from how his quirk works to his parents to why he wants to be a hero and it shows. It’s just! a really awesome portrayal of an underrated character! And uh I ship tetsubaku with my whole heart now thank you.

@hxllo-sunshine Mel is just an...incredible ray of sunshine as is Ariel. They have created not only a character but an entire world for that character. Their version of America within the BNHA/MHA universe is such a wonderful combination of commentary on modern day US society and the problems with the hero society in canon. Honestly i’m glad Horikoshi hasn’t really touched on America because anything he comes up with will be disappointing in comparison. And Ariel’s villain verse makes me cry, she is an absolute angel who deserves better!

@superrncva KC has such a wonderfully unique look into Katsuki’s worldview that had me hooked immediately. Every single one of our threads both silly and serious has me excited to see what is going to happen next. Not to mention the legendary bullshit that was the night of then perish. KC herself is an extremely approachable person and even though her blog is top tier quality I never felt intimidated because of it.

@sappines One of my newer mutuals but honestly? Kona has already earned herself a spot as one of my Biggest Biases. I LOVE Kazue. Her quirk ‘giving tree’ is so incredibly versatile and well written it absolutely boggles my mind how creative it is. And the character herself is just...the biggest sweetheart. We’ve only had a couple in character interactions so far but I already love her and Izuku’s sweet and nerdy dynamic. My boy definitely needs people like Kazue in his life.

@hcwks Listen; Autistic muses are so very important to me and Emma does such a good job integrating ASD into Hawk’s character. I live every day knowing that birb dad is an advocate for Autism awareness and I love how warm and welcoming he is to disabled heroes-in training (Hawks internship squad for life!) Of course, there’s more to their portrayal than that! Hawks isn’t a character we have much info on in canon but Emma’s headcanons are perfect and mesh very well with what we do know.

@needlxd Continuing on my rant about Autistic muses there’s Dee Dee with the wonderful Kitiara! Honestly if you’re not following her already you’re making a big mistake. An amazingly well balanced Villain with believable motivations and absolutely Adorable interactions with the rare person Kitiara cares about. And, like I mentioned right off the bat, an accurate portrayal of a nonverbal Autistic character. Not to mention Dee Dee herself is so sweet and supportive and I would walk on hot coals for her, probably.

2. Class 1-A; People who are awesome and who i’ve interacted with a little bit either in character or out of character. I really love what we’ve done so far and I look forward to interacting with them more. People you should definitely definitely follow!

@floatiisms // @latibule-of-ice // @xelease // @iidatxnya // @umbled // @chimeriac // @umbled // @watersplxsh // @bxllseyed // @oneshockyboi // @quamxmulti // @quirkthief // @cconstruct // @ask-electrical-tape //@pantodinamos // @sparks-for-hire // @freezeoburn // @joviastial // @zerogrcvity // @chillquirk // @sn0wb1rd // @pantodinamos // @starsandpigs // @mxgunet // @engxne // @hematcphagia // @tskymi // @tokunagahiro // @coolnotyourproblem // @tailspired // @fropqvirk // @magicsp3lls

3. Pro Heroes; People I have yet to interact with/interact with much and I mostly admire from a distance because i’m awkward! But they’re still awesome and I want them to know it!!

@the-benevolent-uravity // @quirkgifter // @waspxmasako // @rxd-riot // @torncape // @boydazzle // @bornicarus // @eletriq // @ukubi // @oorumaiito // @pnkacd // @dracoquirk // @faceplain // @gran-pa-torino // @hxwk-eyes // @jxjivisha // @ksri // @kottahono // @zerogravite // @voidte // @natsutodoroki // @msclr // @aemulo // @stxicherxics // @heroicriot // @kxrieiti // @glamie // @raiinyhero // @sxhw4rz // @roundfacepinkcheeks // @paralysis-stare // @transfrm // @uravitiss // @oceanstamed // @digesttoimpress // @symbolofpxace // @danceqveen // @mrserophane // @aftrshock // @negativeat // @oculushero // @creatiquirk

One last thank you for everyone! I’m so glad y’all like this AU, and that you’ve stuck with me through all the changes i’ve made since starting this blog. I’m so so grateful! I wish I could make this a million pages longer and gush about each and every one of you but this already Too Long (i’m sorry) but thank you!!!

[phoenixbrandtackerman]

It’s anime rant time again!

Okay. So I just watched a Film Theory on My Hero Academia that suggested All Might had a “buff up” quirk he didn’t know about before he inherited One For All. The video claims that the difference between All Might’s muscle form and his actual form are because of this quirk he didn't know he had. 

No. Just...no.

Additionally, there was also a claim that Midoriya was able to use 1,000,000% power. *beleagered sigh* Also a flat no. Anyone who typically watches anime understands exactly what Midoriya was doing there. It was a hype-up. A confidence boost. (Apparently this was also confirmed by the writer.)

At the beginning, Midoriya hadn’t even inerited the full quirk yet. (Duh, All Might is still going around superhero-ing even though he’s passed the quirk on, which I took to mean that it would transfer over time and not in a single instant - wasn’t this out-right stated?) Also, at the beginning, Midoriya can only use 100% or 0% of One For All (of the percentage he’s already inherited from All Might). He hasn’t had any training and has no idea how to use it yet. The sheer power output breaks HIS ENTIRE BODY the first time he uses it. During the attack on the school, Midoriya is able to throw ONE PUNCH that isn’t a lethal shot. Just the one. He figures it out a bit more while training with Gran Torino. His SAFE LIMIT is a certain percentage of the power he has. If he goes over that, he damages his body. There’s a BIG difference between using 100% of One For All (All Might at the start of the series), using 100% of a percentage of One For All (Midoriya before All Might no longer had One For All), and using a percentage of a percentage of One For All (what Midoriya can use safely without injuring himself before the quirk was fully passed on to him). 

Would it make sense for every hero who has inherited One For All to pick people with quirks that work with One For All? Sure. But because we don’t have any actual proof of that process, it could be as simple as it was for All Might to chose Midoriya -- he chose someone with a good heart, and who just wanted to help people in any way he could. It’s also possible that All Might had way more training before he inherited One For All than Midoriya did, which could easily explain why he was able to use One For All right off the bat. He had more time to prepare his body for it. 

Also, if we realy want to talk about it, All Might wouldn’t have inherited 100% of All For One instantly either. It would have happened over time, just like we see with Midoriya, and while we see him training with Gran Torino and he isnt a muscle-bound giant (but still muscular), those could also be his earlier days of training. Gran Torino is beating the tar out of him in that scene/frame. Would a more tained All Might be letting Gran Torino just whoop his ass like that? My personal guess is that as he gained more experience using One For All, he also gained more body mass. There is a grand assumption that Midoriya is going to stay the size he is at the current point in the story. That is not a guarantee. He could also eventually become a buff giant like All Might and stay that way. Part of his training with Gran Torino is to emphasize that he should keep One For All activated. As All Might did. 

Another point to be made is that we don’t know what inheriting One For All looks like with anyone other than Midoriya (because he’s the protagonist and this is his story). Let’s look at Todoroki as an example. His father purposefully bred him to be the way he is. We are shown that he has other siblings as well, and all of them have different levels of each ability despite having the same parents (and allowing for the possibility of some of those kids having different mothers). I’m not even going to go into it beyond this: we don’t know if the differences we see between users of One For All are due to biological differences, or if the fact that the method of passing the quirk on is by DNA sharing would change something in the next person’s use of One For All. 

Let’s move backwards a bit to the drastic difference we see in All Might between his activated appearance and his seriously emaciated actual appearance. At least in part, this is visual shorthand - the stark difference between All Might, the grand, buff, perfect picture of a hero versus the emaciated, tired, injured Toshinori? Yeah, there’s a visual metaphor in there too, but I’ll let you guys suss that one out. All Might is unwell in the extreme. He is missing organs, he spits blood a TON (though it’s usually played for laughs), his eyes are sunken in. He looks like a walking corpse. There’s a reason for that. He’s dying. 

One more point to make here is that the assumption that One For All, because it is described as one that stockpiles power, does not have any of the actual quirk effects of previous users. We don’t know that. It is possible that the quirk was passed on to people with strength-specific quirks. We also don’t know that One For All isn’t an effect-stack quirk. (Note that I am playing devil’s advocate here -- I am making the point that saying One For All “stockpiles” quirks is vague enough that is allows for multiple ideas to possibly be true.)

Here’s my main problem with Film Theory when they tackle anime: they seem to be paying half attention to what’s right in front of them. I also had a ton of problems with the Film Theory done on Attack on Titan for much the same reason. Additionally, I know it is no accident that the third season of My Hero Academia is coming out and there’s a Film Theory about it. The same thing happened with Attack on Titan. I’ve noticed a ton of people point out innacuracies in the math done in one of the Fullmetal Alchemist theories. I didn’t have a problem with that one. I also didn’t have a problem with the one on Swoard Art Online (even though I loathe the actual anime).The difference was in the level of care that went into it. Even if some of the math may have been wrong (I am no expert -- this was something I was seeing endlessly and incredibly specifically in the comments on that particular video), they still did all that math. 

I’m not saying I don’t want any more theories on anime. I’m saying that there’s a clear difference between a quick popularity grab attempt and something that they actually care about making and it is painfully obvious which is which. 

[yes-bernie-stuff]

Psaume 90

Psaume 90 Cantique de Moïse1 Prière de Moïse, homme de Dieu. Seigneur, tu nous as été une retraite d’âge en âge ! 2 Avant que les montagnes fussent nées, Et que tu eusses formé la terre, la terre habitable, D’éternité en éternité, tu es le Dieu fort. 3 Tu réduis l’homme mortel en poussière, Et tu dis : Fils d’hommes, retournez ! 4 Car mille ans sont à tes yeux Comme le jour d’hier, quand il n’est plus, Et comme une veille dans la nuit. 5 Tu les emportes comme par un torrent, ils sont un songe ; Au matin, ils se renouvellent comme l’herbe ; 6 Au matin, elle fleurit et se renouvelle ; Le soir, on la coupe, et elle sèche. 7 Car nous sommes consumés par ta colère, Épouvantés par ton courroux. 8 Tu as mis devant toi nos iniquités Et devant la lumière de ta face nos fautes cachées. 9 Car tous nos jours s’en vont par ton courroux, Et nous exhalons nos années comme un souffle. 10 Les jours de nos années : c’est soixante-dix ans, Et pour les plus robustes, quatre-vingts ans, Et ce qui en fait l’orgueil n’est que tourment et vanité, Car il s’en va soudain, et nous nous envolons. 11 Qui prend garde à la force de ta colère Et à ton courroux, selon la crainte qui t’est due ? 12 Enseigne-nous si bien à compter nos jours, Que nous en ayons un cœur sage ! 13 Reviens, ô Éternel ! Jusques à quand… ? Et repens-toi en faveur de tes serviteurs ! 14 Rassasie-nous dès le matin de ta bonté, Et nous chanterons d’allégresse ; Nous nous réjouirons tout le long de nos jours. 15 Réjouis-nous à proportion des jours que tu nous as affligés Et des années où nous avons connu le malheur. 16 Que ton œuvre apparaisse en faveur de tes serviteurs Et ta gloire sur leurs fils, 17 Et que la bienveillance du Seigneur notre Dieu soit sur nous ! Affermis pour nous l’œuvre de nos mains, Oui, affermis l’œuvre de nos mains ! 

 Plan du commentaire bibliqueLe quatrième Livre des Psaumes

Ce livre de­vait, dans la pen­sée des ré­dac­teurs dé­fi­ni­tifs du psau­tier, cor­res­pondre au qua­trième livre de la Loi. Il s’ouvre par un can­tique qui se rap­porte pré­ci­sé­ment au sé­jour de qua­rante ans d’Israël au dé­sert, dont parle le livre des Nombres. Et le nom mis en tête de ce psaume est ce­lui de Moïse lui-même. Tous les can­tiques qui forment le reste du livre sont ano­nymes, à l’ex­cep­tion de deux, qui sont at­tri­bués à Da­vid.

Psaume 90 Cantique de Moïse

Sous les yeux du Dieu qui sub­siste éter­nel­le­ment, l’homme passe comme un songe (ver­sets 1 à 6). Com­bien est triste le sort d’une gé­né­ra­tion qui voit cette course vers la mort ac­cé­lé­rée en­core et as­som­brie pour elle par la co­lère di­vine (ver­sets 7 à 12) ! Notre psaume donne ex­pres­sion à cette tris­tesse. Et pour­tant nous y trou­vons moins une plainte qu’une prière confiante : la tris­tesse sera chan­gée en joie, quand l’Éter­nel re­vien­dra de sa co­lère (ver­sets 13 à 17). Bien dif­fé­rent en ef­fet des grands poètes païens, le psal­miste ne se dé­bat pas contre un des­tin aveugle et im­pi­toyable : il prie le Dieu vi­vant. La gran­deur in­fi­nie de ce Dieu et la condam­na­tion dont il frappe le pé­ché sem­ble­raient de­voir être pour lui un su­jet d’ef­froi ; mais non, c’est de l’Éter­nel qu’il at­tend sa joie, et c’est au­près de lui qu’il se re­tire.

On est sur­pris que, par­lant, comme il le fait des gé­né­ra­tions qui dis­pa­raissent, le psal­miste ne cherche pas à per­cer le voile de l’au-delà et ne men­tionne pas même le Schéol. Évi­dem­ment, sa pré­oc­cu­pa­tion n’est pas de suivre les des­ti­nées mys­té­rieuses des mil­liers d’­hommes em­por­tés loin de la scène de ce monde. Il pense aux vi­vants, à ce peuple dé­cimé qui vit au mi­lieu de la mort, qui a de­vant lui une grande œuvre à ac­com­plir (ver­set 17) et au­quel Dieu a pro­mis d’ac­com­plir lui-même une œuvre en sa fa­veur (ver­set 16). C’est pour ce peuple qu’il parle et prie, s’i­den­ti­fiant avec lui. Tel fut le rôle de Moïse, au­quel une an­tique tra­di­tion at­tri­bue le can­tique.

Le psaume, par sa pen­sée ins­pi­ra­trice, aussi bien que par la ma­nière en la­quelle il l’ex­prime, est digne d’une telle ori­gine. La sim­pli­cité sai­sis­sante du lan­gage, le sen­ti­ment si pro­fond de la condam­na­tion por­tée par la sain­teté di­vine contre les fautes connues et ca­chées de l’­homme, l’i­né­bran­lable confiance en ce Dieu qui frappe et qui pour­tant veut bé­nir : ce sont là des traits bien conformes à la grande fi­gure de Moïse. Cha­cun re­con­naît d’ailleurs que les sen­ti­ments ex­pri­més ici ont dû être ceux du grand ser­vi­teur de Dieu, alors qu’a chaque étape du dé­sert on de­vait creu­ser de nom­breux tom­beaux, alors sur­tout que, de ses propres mains, il dut en­se­ve­lir son frère Aa­ron (Nombres 20.27-29). En­fin l’é­lude dé­taillée du psaume confirme ab­so­lu­ment cette im­pres­sion gé­né­rale. Ce qui est dit de la culpa­bi­lité du peuple (ver­set 7), de ses mal­heurs ex­cep­tion­nels (ver­set 15), de la mor­ta­lité pré­coce (ver­set 10), de l’i­nat­ten­tion gé­né­rale en face des ju­ge­ments de Dieu (ver­set 11), est de na­ture à le­ver tous les doutes que l’on pour­rait avoir, quant à l’o­ri­gine du psaume.

On a ob­jecté qu’un tel poème, s’il eût été com­posé par Moïse, au­rait trouvé place dans le Penta­teuque. Pas né­ces­sai­re­ment, car ce can­tique ex­prime des im­pres­sions per­son­nelles qui n’é­taient pas di­rec­te­ment en re­la­tion avec l’­his­toire ou la lé­gis­la­tion consi­gnées dans le Penta­teuque. Nous sa­vons par Nombres 21.14, qu’il exis­tait à l’é­poque de Moïse un ou des re­cueils de ré­cits et de poèmes dont le Penta­teuque ne nous donne que de courts ex­traits ; notre psaume a pu être conservé dans l’un d’eux. Quant à l’ob­jec­tion ti­rée du fait que la langue de Moïse de­vait dif­fé­rer beau­coup plus que celle de notre psaume de l’­hé­breu parlé mille ou douze cents ans plus tard, elle ne pa­raît pas dé­ci­sive. Nous au­rons à exa­mi­ner, dans nos conclu­sions de la fin de ce vo­lume, cette ques­tion de l’u­ni­for­mité re­la­tive du lan­gage des Psaumes. Bor­nons-nous, à si­gna­ler ici une par­ti­cu­la­rité propre à notre psaume : à chaque ver­set, pour ainsi dire, on y ren­contre des formes gram­ma­ti­cales ou des rap­pro­che­ments de mots qui se trouvent dans le can­tique et dans la bé­né­dic­tion de Moïse (Deu­té­ro­nome cha­pitres 32 et 33). Ces res­sem­blances sont si nom­breuses que nous de­vons re­non­cer à les in­di­quer toutes. Elles éta­blissent une pa­renté d’o­ri­gine bien évi­dente entre notre can­tique et ces di­vers mor­ceaux.

[meara-eldestofthemall]

I seriously don't know what DC was thinking with this whole Gotham War bullshit. I'm willing to accept even the most hair-brained retcon out there if it means it'll even remotely salvage Batman's character. This is Parallax!Hal Jordan and HiC!Wally West all over again.

Agreed! This is t he worst mangling of Bruce's character since the "Bruce Wayne Murder" storyline back in the very early 2000s (2002?). Bruce was accused of killing Vesper Fairchild so he dumped his identity as Bruce Wayne and decided to be Batman 24/7. That crazy decision led to the infamous Bruce/Dick fight in the Batcave.

What we're seeing Szdarsky and Jimenez do with Bruce isn't exactly new but it's being taken to a level not done before. I recently read that what they want to do is give Bruce the ultimate mid-life crisis. Break him down further than he's ever been and then rebuild Bruce back up into a "new" kind of Batman.

I hate the idea.

I understand that every writer wants to be the one to do something that will forever shift Batman's paradigm. That said, there are better ways to do it than the current disaster they're engaged in. Want to do something dark and edgy? DC has a platform for that already. For the love of pity, pick an Elseworlds storyline and get as dark as you'd like but stop fricking up the main continuity! No one likes the abusive jerk they're making Bruce out to be.

[anavoliselenu]

Confessed man chapter 10

‘I am, after we’ve told my delightful mother-in-law that she’s going to be a grandmother.’ He jumps out of the car and leaves me all horrified and suddenly not so keen on seeing my mum. She’s going to pass out. The door opens next to me. ‘Out you get.’

I close my eyes and look for some patience. ‘Why are you doing this to me?’ I ask.

‘They need to know.’ He takes my hand and pulls me out.

‘No, you just can’t wait to advise my forty seven year old mother that she’s going to be a gran.’

‘Not at all.’ He’s all defensive, but I know his game. He loves rubbing her up the wrong way. Holding my hand, he leads me up the driveway to my parent’s semi by the sea.

‘How did you know where to come?’ This has only just occurred to me. He’s never been here before. Or has he?

‘I called and asked for the address, and I believe that’s your father’s car.’ He points to my dad’s Mercedes. ‘Am I right?’

‘Yes,’ I grumble. My parents are obviously expecting us.

As we approach the front door, Justin lifts my hand and kisses it sweetly, giving me a little wink. I smile at the irritating rogue. Then he snaps a pair of handcuffs over our wrists.

‘What are you doing?’ I pull against him, but it’s too late. He works those cuffs well. ‘Justin!’

The front door swings open and my mum stands there, looking all lovely in a pair of cropped jeans and a little cream jumper. ‘My girl’s home!’

‘Hi, Mum.’ Justin chirps, lifting our cuffed hands and waving on a grin. I knew he would do that, and even though my poor mum has just staggered in shock, I can’t help breaking out in a huge smile. He’s all playful, and I love it.

She gets herself in a fluster and does a quick scan on the outside area behind us before grabbing Justin and hauling him into the hallway. ‘Get those cuffs off my daughter, you menace.’

He laughs and removes them promptly, quickly restoring Elizabeth’s smile. ‘Happy?’ he asks.

‘Yes,’ She knocks his shoulder before moving in and squeezing me to her bosom. ‘It’s so good to see you, darling. I’ve got the spare room ready for you.’

‘We’re staying?’ I ask, accepting her hug.

‘We fly out in the morning.’ Justin pipes up. ‘I thought we’d run a visit in before your mum starts thinking that I’m keeping you from her.’

Mum drops me and takes Justin in her arms. ‘Thank you for bringing her to visit.’ she says, squeezing him extra tight.

I smile as I watch him accept her hug, rolling his eyes over her shoulder at me. All of this isn’t for him. I know that he’d rather have me to himself any day of the week, but he really is trying, and I love him all the more for it.

‘Make the most of it because I’m kidnapping her in the morning.’

‘Yes, yes, I know.’ She releases him. ‘Joseph! They’re here! I’ll make tea.’

We follow her down to the kitchen, and I gaze around, taking in the ever perfect neatness and preciseness of my parent’s home. I didn’t grow up here, but mum has gone out of her way to replicate my childhood home, even having a wall knocked down to join the kitchen and dining room, making it a huge family room.

My dad is sitting at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper. ‘Hi, Dad!’ I lean over his shoulder and kiss his cheek, and like always he tenses at the show of affection.

‘Selena, how are you?’ He closes his paper and puts his hand out to Justin, who has made himself comfy in the chair next to Dad. ‘Is she keeping you on your toes?’

‘Of course,’ Justin flicks me a look, and I scoff.

After visiting the loo, I settle at the table with my dad and my husband and watch quietly as they chat at ease while my mum makes tea, throwing little bits into the conversation here and there. It’s a wonderful sight, and if anyone would’ve said that this would happen when I first got involved with my Lord of the Sex Manor, I would have laughed in their face. I would never have dreamt it. I’m so happy.

‘I thought we could go down to The Windmill for dinner tonight.’ Mum says, placing the tea on the table. ‘We’ll stroll down. It’s going to be a lovely evening.’

Dad grunts his agreement, no doubt looking forward to a few pints. ‘That sounds like a plan.’ he agrees.

‘Perfect,’ Justin places his hand on my knee and squeezes.

Yes, perfect.

Chapter 22

‘Ladies first,’ Justin holds the door open, and mum and I slip past. ‘Joseph,’

‘Thank you, Justin.’ My dad walks ahead, leading us to a table by the fireplace, which is lit with an array of candles, rather than the usual logs and flames that crackle during the winter months.

‘Drinks?’ Justin asks, pulling out a chair for me, but soon stopping me from resting my bum down when he notices it’s hard wood and free of anything cushioned. Leaving me standing, he quickly swaps it for a nearby high-backed chair with arms, upholstered in a regal green velvet.

‘I’ll have a glass of white.’ Mum perches neatly down and takes her glasses out to read the menu.

‘Pint of Carlsberg for me, please.’ Dad says.

‘And for my beautiful girl?’ Justin asks, pushing me down onto the soft seat.

‘Water, please.’ I place my order with absolutely no thought, until my mum’s head flies up from the menu.

‘No wine?’ Her face is shocked as she looks over her glasses at me.

I shift on my seat and feel Justin fidgeting behind me as he tucks me in closer to the table. ‘No, we need to get away early.’ I flip casually, picking up a menu. I’m very abruptly reminded of the reason we’re here. I’m really not looking forward to this.

‘Oh,’ She still looks surprised, but she doesn’t push the matter further, instead pointing out the specials on the menu.

I feel Justin’s hot breath at my ear. Of course, I shiver, still quite pent up from our abandoned encounter in the Aston Martin. ‘I love you.’ He kisses my cheek, and I reach up to feel his stubbled cheek out.

‘I know.’

He leaves us at the table to order the drinks, and I watch as my mum reads out everything on the menu to my dad, and then proceeds to recite the daily specials from the various blackboards dotted around the bar.

‘Have you heard from Dan?’ I ask.

‘Yes, he called earlier, darling.’ Mum tells me. ‘He said that you met for lunch yesterday. How lovely. I told him you were coming down before you go on holiday, but he didn’t know. I’m surprised Justin didn’t think to tell him.’

I’m not surprised, but my mum seems to be blissfully unaware of the animosity batting between my brother and my husband. ‘This was last minute.’ I shake my head dismissively. ‘Justin probably forgot.’ I feel a tad guilty. It didn’t cost me a thought to let Dan know that I was out of London for a while.

I’m saved from further interrogation when a tray is placed on the table. Everyone takes their drinks, and my parents both gasp appreciatively around the rims of their alcohol filled glasses. I look at my own clear filled highball with as much enthusiasm as I feel for it, and then at my mum’s wineglass on a sigh.

‘What are you having, then’ Mum asks. ‘I think I’ll go for the seafood platter.’

I lean over to Justin and share his menu, my hand falling to his knee. He picks it up and absentmindedly kisses it, not taking his eyes from the menu. ‘What would you like, baby?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘I’m having the mussels in garlic.’ Dad declares, pointing at the board, which is displaying a mouth-watering selection of seafood dishes. ‘Bloody delicious.’ He smacks his lips and takes a swig of his pint.

I’m torn. Seafood is a must, especially being so close to the sea, but what shall I have? The Seafood Platter, full of cockles, mussels, crab and king prawns, or the mussels drenched in garlic butter with warm, freshly baked bread. My stomach growls, pushing me to hurry and fill it up. ‘I can’t decide.’

‘Tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll help you.’ Justin looks over, waiting for me to enlighten him on my quandary.

‘Mussels or the seafood platter.’ I muse.

His eyes bug. ‘Neither!’ he blurts, drawing the attention of my parents, who both pause with their drinks halfway to their mouths.

‘Why?’ I turn a frown on him, but very quickly realise exactly why. He’s read something in that bloody book. ‘Oh, come on, Justin!’

He shakes his head. ‘No way, lady. Not a chance. There’s some sort of mercury in fish that can damage an unborn baby’s nervous system. Don’t even try to defy me on this one.’

‘Are you going to let me eat anything?’ My brow is completely furrowed. I love seafood.

‘Yes. Chicken, steak. Both are high in protein, and that’s good for our babies.’

I let out a frustrated protest and grab my water viciously. I’m going to lose my mind. I’ll be on Prozac by the time these babies arrive.

I’m so busy having a mental sulk, it takes me a few moments to register my parent’s stunned faces across the table.

Oh shit!

‘Do it in style, Selena.’ Justin mutters, placing his menu on the table. I shoot incredulous eyes to him. Me?

‘You’re pregnant?’ Mum blurts, the information overload obviously registering.

‘Selena?’ Dad presses when I remain focused on Justin, who is remaining focused on the menu that he’s just laid down.

I take a deep breath of confidence and bite the bullet. There’s no escaping this now, not that I ever dreamt Justin would allow me to leave Newquay without telling them. ‘Surprise.’ I whisper, like a feeble cop out.

‘But you’ve been married for five minutes!’ Mum gasps. ‘Five minutes!’

I watch as my dad places a calming hand on her arm, but that isn’t going to stop her. I can feel a rant coming on, in which case, I also feel a Justin style trample coming on. I can’t imagine him taking a critical speech from my mother too well. She’s right, though. We have only been married for a few short weeks. Not quite five minutes, but it may as well be. I dare not tell her how far pregnant I am. She’ll work out the timeframes fast enough and soon calculate just how soon after meeting this man I got myself knocked up. Coming to terms with the fact that I met and married him so quickly was hard enough, even if Justin did delicately-ish trample them and gain my father’s approval.

I remain quiet, as does Justin, as does my father, but not my mother. Oh no, she’s only just getting started. I can tell by the flex of her fingers on her wine glass and the drawing of deep breaths.

And then I get really worried because her eyes widen and swing towards Justin. ‘It was a shotgun wedding, wasn’t it? You married her because you had to!’

‘Thanks!’ I laugh, thinking how obscene it is for her to say such a thing. She’s not thinking straight, and now she’s saying stupid shit. Even with her limited time with us, she knows how we feel about each other.

‘Elizabeth,’ Justin sits forward, all stern, his jaw ticking. I fear the worst. ‘You know better than that.’ He sounds so calm, but I can detect the irritation in his tone, and I can hardly blame him. He’s insulted, and so am I.

Mum huffs a little, but Dad interjects before she can retaliate. ‘So you didn’t know at the wedding?’

‘No,’ I answer quickly, taking my glass with both hands to prevent my natural reflex from failing me. Yes, we both knew damn well, even if I was denying it.

‘I see,’ Dad sighs.

‘I can’t believe it,’ Mum whines. ‘A pregnant bride suggests only one thing.’

‘Then don’t bloody tell anyone.’ I snap, feeling immensely pissed off with my mum and her reaction. I can’t blame her, it is shocking, more so than she’ll ever know, but to suggest I was rushed down the aisle because of it? That just makes me fuming mad, so I don’t know how Justin must be feeling. His twitching, tense frame should be a clue, and when he takes my left hand and starts twirling my wedding ring, I know that my mum is about to be trampled.

He leans forward, and I close my eyes. ‘Elizabeth, I’m not an eighteen year old lad being forced to do the right thing after a quick f**k about with a girl.’ He’s not quite snarling at my mother, but as I open my eyes to gage exactly how much fierceness we’re dealing with, I immediately notice him fighting a curling lip. ‘I’m thirty eight years old. Selena is my wife, and I’m not having her worked up or upset, so you can accept it and give us your blessing, or you can carry on like this and I’ll take my girl home now.’ He’s still twirling my ring, and even though he has just firmly put my melodramatic mother in her place, and quite harshly, I could kiss him. And slap him, too. He doesn’t want me worked up? Coming from him, that’s bloody hilarious.

‘Now, let’s all just calm down a little, shall we?’ My dad says, all calm and softly, ever the mediator. Not only does he avoid affection, he’s not all that keen on confrontation, either. I notice he gives my mother a sideway glace in warning, something rare from my father and only delivered to his wife when he thinks it’s absolutely necessary. It is definitely necessary right now because if mum doesn’t rein it in, Justin will trample all over her, and it won’t be delicately either. He has been unusually tolerant so far, but then again, mum has been pretty tolerant of my challenging man, too.

‘Selena,’ Dad smiles at me across the table, keeping his hand on his wife’s arm, a subtle message to shut the hell up. ‘How do you feel about this?’

‘Fine,’ I answer quickly, feeling Justin squeeze my hand. I need to find a replacement for fine. ‘Perfect. Couldn’t be happier.’ I return my dad’s smile.

‘Well, then. They’re married, financially stable,’ He laughs. It’s quite funny to say that Justin is financially stable. ‘And they’re bloody adults, Elizabeth. Get a grip. You’re going to be a granny.’

I’m feeling pretty mortified. After what has just transpired, you would think we were a pair of teenagers. I smile apologetically at Justin, who shakes his head in complete exasperation.

‘I will not be a granny!’ Mum chokes. ‘I’m forty seven years old.’ She fluffs her hair. ‘I could be a Nana, though.’ She muses thoughtfully.

‘You can be whatever you like, Elizabeth.’ Justin picks the menu back up, clearly fighting to leave it there. I can tell he’s dying to trample further.

‘And you should watch your language, Justin Ward!’ She reaches over the table and flicks the top of his menu, but he doesn’t apologise. ‘Wait!’ she shrieks.

‘For what?’ Dad asks.

Mum’s eyes are passing between me and Justin, back and forth, again and again before finally resting on Justin, who has raised brows, waiting for her to advise us on what we’re waiting for. ‘You said babies, plural. You said our babies.’

‘Twins.’ Justin smiles brightly, all irritation and trampling signs disappearing in a split second. He rubs my tummy lightly. ‘Two babies. Two grandchildren.’

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’ Dad laughs. ‘Now that really is very special. Congratulations!’ His chest swells a little in pride, making me smile fondly.

‘Twins?’ Mum jumps in. ‘Oh, Selena, darling! You are going to be exhausted. What are…’

‘No, she won’t.’ Justin cuts her off completely before she can dig herself any further into his trampling pit. ‘She’s got me. End of.’

Mum sits back vigilantly and shuts her trap, and I melt on a little sigh. Yes, I have him.

‘And you have us, darling.’ Mum says quietly. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s just a bit of a shock.’ She leans over and puts her hand out. I take it. ‘You’ll always have us.’

I smile, but realise instantly that I won’t actually have them. They live miles away from London, and with Justin’s family well out of the picture, there will be no calling the grandparents to pop over and relieve me for an hour. There will be no popping in to see my mum for a cup of tea and a chat so she can see her grandchildren. I feel Justin’s hand tighten around mine, dragging me from my unexpected, unwelcome thoughts. I look at him, and he gazes straight into my eyes.

‘You have me.’ he affirms, as if he’s read my mind. He probably has.

I nod, trying to convince myself that he is all I need, but with two babies to take care of and Justin at The Manor, I can see loneliness looming—a place where adult interaction is limited because, let’s face it, getting out and about with two babies is going to be tough and relying on visits from friends will be what I’m resorted to.

‘Have you decided?’

I look up, finding a waitress armed with a pad and pen, ready to take our order. She’s smiling brightly, and she’s smiling brightly at Justin. ‘I’ll have the steak, please.’ I say, my hand slipping onto his knee instinctively, indicating the beginning of my own little trampling session. She makes no attempt to write anything down and doesn’t ask how I’d like it cooked. She just hovers, all starry eyed and dreamy as her greedy eyes run continuous trails up and down my God’s seated frame. ‘I’ll have the steak.’ I repeat, minus the please. ‘Medium.’

‘Pardon?’ She rips her eyes away from Justin, who is hiding a small smirk as he pretends to read the menu.

‘The steak. Medium. Would you like me to write it down for you?’ I ask tightly. I hear Justin chuckle.

‘Oh, of course.’ Her pen hand kicks into action. ‘And for you?’ she asks, looking at my parents.

‘Mussels for me.’ Dad grunts.

‘And the seafood platter for me.’ Mum sings. ‘And I’ll have another wine.’ She raises her glass.

The waitress scribbles it all down before turning back towards Justin. She’s smiling again. ‘And for you, sir?’

‘What would you recommend?’ He blows her back a few metres with his smile, reserved only for women.

I roll my eyes as I watch her pull at her ponytail and blush profusely. ‘The lamb is good.’

‘He’ll have the same as me.’ I collect up the menus and shove them at her, smiling sweetly. ‘Medium.’

‘Oh?’ She looks at Justin for confirmation.

‘The wife has spoken.’ He leans in and drapes his arm over my shoulder, but keeps his eyes on the waitress. ‘I do as I’m told, so it looks like I’m having the steak.’

I scoff, mum and dad laugh, and the waitress swoons all over her pad, almost certainly wishing that she had a God who did what he’s told. What a joke. She backs away, slipping her pen and pad into the front pocket of her apron.

‘You’re impossible.’ I say quietly, as my parents chuckle and look across the table fondly at Justin making a meal of eating my neck. ‘And since when do you do what you’re told?’

‘Selena, that was really quite rude.’ Mum chastises me. ‘Justin can make his own meal choices.’

‘It’s okay, Elizabeth.’ He sucks on my neck a bit more. ‘She knows what I like.’

‘You like to be impossible.’ I quip, rubbing the side of face into his stubble.

‘I love watching you in trampling action.’ he whispers in my ear. ‘I could bend you over this table and f**k you really hard.’

I don’t gasp or recoil at his crass words, spoken with no concern for the company we’re sharing. They were definitely for my ears only. I turn into him, pushing my mouth to his ear. ‘Stop saying the word f**k, unless you’re going to f**k me.’

‘Watch your mouth.’

‘No.’

He laughs and bites my neck. ‘Cheeky.’

‘Let’s raise a toast!’ Dad’s cheerful tone pulls us out of our private moment. ‘To twins!’

‘To twins!’ Mum chants, and we all clink our glasses in acknowledgment to the fact that I’m going to get really fat.

* * *

I enjoy my steak, but I can’t help staring longingly across the table as my mum and dad plough their way through a delicious selection of seafood. After Justin pays the bill, we take a slow wander back to my parent’s house, mum pointing out all of sites to Justin as we walk and chat. When we get home, dad takes his usual seat in the window, armed with his remote control, and mum puts the kettle on.

‘Bedtime tea?’ she asks.

Justin looks across the kitchen to me, clocking me yawning. ‘No, I’m taking Selena to bed. Come on, lady.’ He walks over and rests his hands on my shoulders, then proceeds to direct me out of the kitchen. I make no objection, whatsoever. ‘Say goodnight to your mother.’

‘Goodnight, Mother.’

‘Yes, you get to bed. You have an early start.’ she says, flicking the kettle on.

‘Say goodnight to your father.’ Justin instructs as we pass the lounge.

‘Goodnight, Dad.’

‘Goodnight, you two.’ Dad doesn’t even crane his neck around from the television.

I’m pushed up the stairs and guided down the hallway until we reach the guest room, where he begins to strip me down. ‘That was nice.’ I muse as my dress is pulled up over my head.

‘It was, but your mum is still a pain in the arse.’ Justin replies dryly. ‘Give me your wrist.’

I hold my hand up to him and watch whilst he removes my Rolex and slides it onto the bedside table. ‘You trampled her again.’ I’m smiling.

Reaching up to my neck, he starts unknotting my cream lace scarf. ‘She’ll learn eventually.’ My scarf is removed, revealing my diamond. He smiles, straightening it out. ‘Are you looking forward to a few days of constant contact?’

‘I can’t wait.’ I answer without a second hesitation, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. I really can’t. This evening has been lovely, but I’ll be well and truly on Central Justin Cloud Nine with no one else around. Pushing his shirt from his shoulders, I sigh. ‘You’re just too perfect.’ I lean in and kiss his chest, leaving my lips lingering.

‘I know.’ He agrees, with no humour or sarcasm. He really does know, the arrogant arse.

I drop his shirt and start working the button fly of his jeans before sliding my hands into the back and working them over the solidness of his arse. ‘I love this.’ I dig my nails in as I pass.

‘I know.’ he concurs again, making me smile. When I’m down to his thighs, I slip my hand around the front and grasp him loosely. He’s solid, as I knew he would be. ‘And you know how much I love this.’

He sucks in a hiss of breath through his teeth and pulls his groin away, but I maintain my hold. ‘Selena, baby, there is no way in hell I’m taking you under your mother’s roof.’

‘Why?’ I pout. ‘I can be quiet.’ I’m drifting into temptress mode.

He looks at me doubtfully, and so he should. I can’t guarantee that at all. ‘I don’t think you can.’

I lower to my knees and unlace his shoes, and he lifts each in turn for me to remove them, along with his socks. Taking the waist of his jeans, I slowly pull them down his legs. ‘I think you’ll be surprised by what I can do. Lift.’ I tap his ankle.

‘You mean I’ll be surprised by what I can make you do.’ He lifts in turn, so I can remove his jeans and boxers. ‘And I’m never surprised. I have that effect on you.’

Of course, he’s cocky, but one hundred per cent right, not that I’ll tell him. I don’t need to. It goes without saying. Instead of stroking his overinflated ego, I stoop down and kiss the top of his foot before moving my lips to his ankle, circling my tongue and kissing my way up his legs. I take my time, flattening my palms on the fronts of his thighs, just feeling him as my lips skim every n**ed inch of his flesh, but I soon find myself at his neck, despite my determination to drag out the whole episode.

I inhale his scent and lift up on my tiptoes to reach his chin, which is higher than usual because he’s looking up at the ceiling. I can’t reach. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I’m trying to control myself.’ His voice is all gravelly.

‘I don’t want you to.’

‘Don’t say that, Selena.’ he warns.

‘I don’t want you to.’ I repeat, all low and throaty, biting at his neck.

He moves fast. His arm snakes around my waist, and I’m pushed up against the nearest wall on a growl. I’m ecstatic and trying to play it cool, but my lips are parted, and I’m breathing shocked gasps. ‘You seem to be making some noise,’ he observes quietly, holding one side of my face and pushing his mouth to my ear. I close my lips, clench my eyes shut and rest my head against the wall. I need to focus because he’s going to make this hard for me, even if he doesn’t give it to me hard. ‘Now, listen very carefully.’ He unhooks my bra while keeping a hand on my cheek and his mouth at my ear. ‘Your parents seem to like me. Don’t f**k it up.’

Oh good Lord, my confidence is diminishing fast. Why didn’t he book a hotel, damn it. I bite painfully down on my lip, determined to keep quiet, as my lace bra is pulled away from my body and dropped to the floor before he leans down, taking my nipple in his mouth and sucking my nub gently until it’s tingling and stiff. I hit my head against the wall, my face distorting as I try urgently to withhold a moan of pleasure.

I fail.

‘Ohhhh God,’ I groan, banging my head against the wall again.

‘Oh dear.’ He’s at my lips immediately. ‘You just can’t control it, can you?’

I shake my head, unashamedly agreeing with him. ‘No,’

‘Which just confirms what we both know, doesn’t it?’ He rolls his n**ed h*ps upwards, forcing me onto my tiptoes to try and escape the rub that will have me losing further control.

I fail again. ‘Yes,’ I pant, uncontrolled and grappling at his n**ed shoulders.

‘And what is that, Selena?’ He bites my lip and keeps hold while he waits for me to give the answer—the answer we both know.

‘You have the power.’ I confirm quietly. His eyes sparkle in approval, and I reach down to stroke him, but he pulls away from me on a mild head shake.

‘I thought we just clarified who has the power.’ My hand is pushed away. ‘And I need to safeguard my current favourable standing with your parents, so you’ll keep quiet.’ He’s staring at me, obviously waiting for confirmation that I understand. I do, but I absolutely cannot guarantee my silence. ‘Can you be quiet, Selena?’

I lie. ‘Yes.’ I’ve been ambushed by him and his potency, and I’m not saying no if it means he’ll tuck me up in bed for a snuggle. Pregnancy is doing serious things to me. I’m more desperate than ever, if that’s at all possible.

His eyes blink lazily, an almost undetectable smile flashing across his face. He reaches up and pulls my hand away from my hair. ‘It looks like we have a problem.’ he whispers. ‘Don’t move.’ He backs away, and I want to yell at him, but then he picks something up and I’m distracted as he slowly comes towards me again, concealing whatever he’s holding behind his back.

I’m fidgeting, squirming and thinking real hard about what the hell he’s hiding, but I’m not left suffering for too long. He brings his hands around to the front of him and holds up my lace scarf, then wraps it around his fists and pulls it taut. My teeth clench, as do my thighs. In fact, every single muscle I have has tightened considerably at the prospects of what that scarf presents, and I know it’s not going to be used to blindfold me.

‘I think we’ll call this one the quiet f**k.’ He brings the scarf to my mouth and slips it between my lips. ‘Keep your tongue relaxed.’ he instructs softly, taking it around the back of my head and tying it firmly but not tightly. ‘If you feel the need to scream, bite down. Understand?’

I nod, my eyes following him as he leans down and removes my knickers. It really doesn’t matter that I can’t talk because my mind has gone blank. I can think of nothing to say, my only thoughts being of anticipation. And maybe there’s a little bit of me wondering whether he’s gagged anyone else before. Possibly. Highly likely. It’s unwelcome, but my docile state is preventing me from chasing the thought—that and the hot tongue running up the inside of my leg. I don’t want to scream, but I bite down on the scarf anyway, my eyes closing, my drumming heart beating an even pulse in my chest. I feel surprisingly calm.

He makes a point of breathing heavily in my ear as he laces his fingers through mine and pushes my hands up to the wall behind me before kissing down the sensitive flesh of my inside arm, softly and painfully slow. I quickly fear that the only screaming I’ll be doing will be in impatience. He’s going to take his time with me.

‘I think we’ll do this lying down.’ His low, sure voice has me praying for control as he brings our hands down, fingers still laced, and then starts walking backwards, encouraging me to step with him. Not that I need any encouragement. I’ll follow this man wherever he goes, whether it’s to a bed or to the end of the earth.

He bends and takes a hold of me before straightening his legs and kneeling onto the small, double bed and crawling up, resting me down gently. The tip of my nose is kissed, my hair smoothed from my face, and then I’m turned onto my side slightly, my leg lifted and bent so he can straddle the one still flush with the bed. He edges forward, holding himself with one hand and keeping my leg up with the other, watching what he’s doing, getting closer until he skims my opening. If I could, I’d yelp, but I’m resorted to reaching behind me to grab the headboard. My back bows, even though he’s just holding himself there. It’s torturous.

‘Selena,’ He kisses my foot, ‘Nothing can beat this.’ He sinks slowly into me, his head falling back, and I have to look. I overcome the overwhelming need to close my eyes in utter bliss, just so I can watch his face. His jaw tenses, his grip of my ankle increases, his now free hand rests on my waist and his torso sharpens, the lines of every muscle defined and protruding. I so want to feel him there, but I’m immobilised by pleasure, rendering me incapable of moving. He’s right. Nothing can or ever will beat this. It’s agonisingly good, and I’m transfixed on him, completely captivated by him. So incredibly in love with him.

‘Do you like what you see?’ he asks as he withdraws slowly. I’m so fixated on the movement of his muscles, I’ve not noticed his head has now dropped and he’s studying me. He gags me, inflicts this pleasure on me, and then expects the impossible. He wants me to reply? I shouldn’t need to, he knows the answer very well, but I nod anyway. He doesn’t smile or show any approval of my answer. He just gradually works his way deep inside of me, as if rewarding me for my silent response. ‘I like what I see, too.’ I’m blessed with a precise grinding of his hips. I might not be able to cry out in pleasure, but I can moan. So I do.

Pulling out slowly, he plunges straight back in. He’s starting to work up a steady rhythm. It remains controlled, it remains exact and it remains profoundly powerful, but without the force I know he’s capable of. He’s determined to make his point—the point of unnecessary hardness, the hardness that I think I need, and the point that I’m not sure would need to be raised if I wasn’t pregnant. I’m being thoroughly indulged. I’m being doted upon. I can live with this for the next few months.

I’m moaning again as he grinds, and when I feel his teeth graze my ankle, my head flies back and I’m unexpectedly overcome with heated tingles, stabbing all over my skin, but more intensely between my thighs.

‘She’s losing control.’ he gasps quietly, lifting up higher on his knees, taking my lower body with him. I start shaking my head, tightening my grip of the headboard and twisting my body to try and get onto my back. I’m attempting in vain. I could never overpower him. He has a firm hold on my hip, keeping me where he wants me. ‘Don’t fight me, Selena.’ He strikes firmly but carefully It’s nowhere near the power that I know he’s capable of. But it’s still good.

I don’t need it. I crave it. Big difference, but my insatiable want has been fed good and proper, and now it’s expected. In he goes again, definitely and on a supressed hiss. I try to flip myself over again, but it’s useless. I’ll never win, only knacker myself out, and I want to store my energy for the building release that’s brewing. I bite down on the scarf and let out a muffled yell.

‘Am I making you crazy, baby?’ he asks, the tinge of smugness clear as he reverts back to a smooth, even pace.

I don’t look at him. I close my eyes and turn my attention to catching the booming beat at my core before he tells me to control it. He’s ruling me, and even though it’s slow and almost effortless, it’s still very deep and it’s still very pleasurable, and I’m still going to erupt.

‘You’re doing well, Selena.’ In he sinks, around he grinds, out he comes. ‘My temptress is getting stronger.’ Back in, back around, back out.

I whimper, flexing my hands on the headboard. The flowing of his body into mine is inconceivably good. So good. Holy shit! I try to shout his name, but all I achieve is a stifled, inaudible howl.

‘Selena!’ he whispers loudly. ‘Shut the f**k up!’ With that harsh demand comes a less controlled buck of his hips. It just pushes another yell from me, but it’s no more decipherable. That cusp of pleasure is teasing me as he turns his mouth into my leg and bites down, and then reaches down to circle his thumb over my clitoris. That does it. I gulp, my body being yanked into a rigid arch as every muscle starts to spasm, and I bite down on the lace scarf. If I could talk, I would be firing f**ks off all over the place, so it is undoubtedly a good job that I can’t. I’m shaking, moaning and Justin is still plunging into me, still solid and still biting on my ankle. I’m riding out the pleasure, but it’s just going on and on and on.

I’m immensely grateful when my leg is released and I’m allowed to roll onto my back. I’m wrecked, and still relentlessly contracting around Justin as he keeps himself buried deep and arranges my legs so he can settle between my thighs.

‘Good?’ he asks, his brows raised confidently as he looks down at me. I nod, my eyes closing, no matter how desperate I am to keep them on his damp, handsome face. I also want to feel his hair out and give it a little yank, but my arms are welded to the headboard. ‘You’ll never know how much satisfaction I get from watching you fall apart under my touch.’ he whispers, and I flick my eyes open briefly, seeing him raising his torso so he’s braced on two muscle swelling arms. He doesn’t make any attempt to get any friction, instead seeming quietly content to just hover above me. After a few moments have passed and he’s unmoved but still twitching within me, I force my eyes open properly. He gazing down at me, waiting for my eyes. ‘She’s back.’

Yes, only just and she’s still pulsating around his throbbing cock. I attempt to say something, my exhausted mind having forgotten that I’m gagged, but as soon as I realise my limitation, I convince my arms to lift and sandwich his face between my palms. His stubble is nearly two days’ worth. I love it.

He turns his head and kisses my palm before lowering himself onto his elbows and tucking his fingers under the scarf, pulling in down over my chin so it rests on my neck. I can talk, but funnily enough, I don’t want to say anything now. I’m holding Justin’s face, soaking up the happiness oozing from his beautiful greens, and I’m happy to do just that.

‘I want to kiss you.’ he declares, but while his little proclamation is sweet, it’s also light-years away from the usual kiss me demand. That is probably why my brow is completely furrowed and Justin’s eyes are sparkling in amusement.

‘You do?’

‘Hmm,’ He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and watches intently. ‘I really do.’

‘You can kiss me.’ Being gagged has dried my throat out, making my voice rough and low.

His thumb reaches the corner of my mouth, and then sets off again, back across my lips. ‘I’m not asking permission,’ His eyes close and re-open, landing directly on mine. ‘I’m just thinking out loud.’

‘Why don’t you stop thinking and do.’ I raise my hips, signalling that kissing me is not the only thing I’d like him to do. Justin working himself up is really going to work me down. I’m still buzzing, his arousal still held snuggly inside of me.

‘Are you demanding, Mrs Ward?’

‘Are you denying, Mr Ward?’

‘No, but you do…’

‘I know who has the power.’ I interrupt, and he gives me that roguish grin as he slowly dips, his lips finding mine, and takes what I’m so willing to give.

‘I’ve never tasted anything so good.’ His h*ps swivel, sweeping through my remnants of pleasure.

‘Not even an Selena éclair?’ I ask around his lush, wet mouth.

‘Not even an Selena éclair.’ he confirms, nibbling his way up to my ear. ‘Not even peanut butter.’ he murmurs, reaching down and hooking his arm under my knee. He pulls my bent leg upwards and plants his fist in the mattress so my leg is draped over his arm. ‘Just pure,’ he sucks my earlobe. ‘Raw,’ he bites down. ‘naked,’ and then drags it teasingly through his teeth. I shudder as he skims across my cheek and plunges his tongue into my mouth. ‘Selena.’ he finishes on a whisper. ‘Pure, raw, naked, Selena. And I’ve got her for three whole days… all…. to… myself.’

I smile around his lips and find his hair, unable to resist a playful yank as he moans and pleasures me with those damn delectable, wonderfully talented hips. Deep grinds. Firm dives. Easy retreats. I sigh, and he rumbles, low in his throat, but I’m not interested in coming again. I could, but I don’t want to. I want to concentrate on him, so I meet his rotations with my own, ensuring optimum contact and pleasure, just for him.

When I feel the rolling waves of his muscles tensing around my body, I know that he’s tipping the edge, so I harden my kiss, yank at his hair a little more and moan. He’s blazing, and when he pulls away on a gasp, I know he wants my eyes. My hands move straight to his neck. The feeling of his throbbing neck vain is matching his laboured breaths. Our eyes lock, his full of hunger, mine full of surrender.

‘My heart’s bucking wildly.’ he murmurs, pushing into me one last, deep, steady time and just holding himself there as he inhales severely and begins to shake. ‘Fuck, that feels good.’

I’m not joining him in his cl**ax, but it doesn’t stop me from whimpering shallowly and sucking in my own sharp breath, my thighs finding his waist and my arms moving to his shoulders to pull him down. I kiss him deeply, invading his mouth forcefully, helping him through the twitching and jerking of his body.

‘Good?’ I ask around his mouth.

He keeps our kiss up and bites my tongue lightly. ‘Don’t ask stupid f**king questions.’ he warns seriously, rolling onto his back and lifting his arm for me to find my happy place. My fingertips find his scar and start their usual trailing from side to side as he pulls me in snuggly and breathes into my hair. ‘Okay?’

‘Don’t ask stupid f**king questions.’ I grin into the side of his chest.

‘Selena, one day I’m going to shove a bar of soap in your mouth.’

He probably would. ‘What time are we leaving?’

‘Seven-ish. We’re flying at noon from Heathrow.’

‘Heathrow? We’ve got to drive all the way back to London?’ Is he kidding me?

‘Yes. It was the only place where I could get a flight from at such short notice.’

I sulk into his chest, but that tone was final and what would be the point of complaining further, anyway? It’s not like it’ll get me anywhere and not just because of the short notice and lack of Selenailability. ‘You could’ve got something from Bristol, at least.’ I just can’t help myself.

‘Shut up. Let’s talk about our plans for the weekend.’

‘Have you made plans?’ I ask.

‘Yes, it involves lots of lace and even more n**ed flesh.’ he kisses my head, and I’m immediately distracted from my mood.

Just me, Justin and lots of n**ed flesh, after lots of lace has been removed… slowly. I smile, snuggle deeper and let my sleepy mind wander to all things Justin-ish.

Chapter 23

‘Have you got everything?’ Mum’s still in her dressing gown as she faffs all over the driveway.

‘Yes,’ I sigh with optimum exasperation, for the tenth time.

‘Oh, it was brief, but I’m so happy you came to see us.’ She clasps my cheeks and kisses me. I shouldn’t be getting the credit for this. If it wasn’t for Justin, who knows how long I would’ve put this trip off. ‘You must take care.’

I roll my eyes, but hug her. ‘It was so good to see you.’

‘Are you insinuating that I can’t look after my wife?’ Justin asks seriously as he shuts the boot of the car.

‘No, I was telling her to take care.’ She throws a small scowl over to Justin. ‘And I would never insinuate that you couldn’t look after my daughter.’ She’s poking him. It’s like the O’Shea women have a compulsion to goad Justin Ward.

Justin strolls over, leaving my dad browsing around the fully loaned DBS. ‘She doesn’t need to take care because I do that for her.’ He pulls me from my mum’s grasp, reclaiming his wife from her mother. ‘Mine.’ He grins and smothers me to make his point.

‘Menace.’ Mum huffs, trying not to smile. ‘Joseph! Don’t get any ideas.’

We all turn to see my dad running his palm down the gleaming bonnet of the Aston Martin. If I was close enough, I’m sure we’d hear a sigh. ‘Just admiring,’ he says to himself. ‘I thought yours had black leather?’

I glance at Justin and send a telepathic message to think of something fast to explain why the interior has gone from black leather to cream. ‘Mine’s in for a service. It’s a courtesy car.’ He reels off the explanation with complete ease and with no delay. He’s such a better liar than me, and I hate that.

Dad laughs. ‘I don’t get courtesy cars like this from my garage.’

Justin smiles and leads me to the passenger side, pushing me down gently and buckling me in before adjusting the lap belt. I bat his hands away, earning myself a growl. ‘I’m not incapable.’ I mutter.

‘No, you’re very capable,’ he narrows annoyed eyes on me. ‘of driving me f**king nuts!’

‘You drive yourself nuts.’ I retort, pushing him away and shutting the door. I let the window down. ‘Bye!’ I blow my parents a kiss and watch as Justin shakes hands with my dad and kisses my mum chastely on the cheek before making his way around the front of the car, drilling holes into me through the window as he does.

He slips in and starts the engine. ‘This weekend will be a lot more pleasant if you do as you’re told.’ he grumbles, pulling away from my parent’s house.

I wave them goodbye and turn in my seat to face him. ‘I can put a seatbelt on.’

‘But I want to do it.’ he mutters sullenly. ‘It’s my job.’

‘To put my seatbelt on?’ I laugh.

‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, lady.’ He starts flicking a few switches on the steering wheel. ‘It’s my job to look after you. No sickness this morning?’

‘No.’ I sigh. ‘You shoving a ginger biscuit in my mouth the second I woke up took care of that.’ I quip, bolting upright when the car stereo kicks in and Mr JT himself joins us. I turn eyes mixed with surprise and amusement to Justin. He knows that I’m looking at him, but he’s ignoring it. ‘You had them put this CD in, didn’t you?’ I’m using every ounce of willpower not to grin.

He frowns at the road. ‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘You did. On the special request part of the form that you completed, you wrote… Please load the disc player with Justin.’ I pause. ‘Did you put a love heart and a few kisses on it, too?’ I’m most certainly grinning now.

He slowly turns un-amused eyes to me. ‘Do you think you’re funny?’

‘Yes.’ I reach forward and crank the volume up, and then start jigging in my seat, singing along and generally taking the piss out of my JT fanatical God. ‘Hey!’ I yelp when his fingers squeeze my hipbone and the music is suddenly low again. ‘I was enjoying that.’

‘You should. He’s a very talented man.’ Justin states earnestly.

‘You’re a very talented man.’

‘I know.’ He shrugs. ‘We have a lot in common. He’s a great guy.’

‘You’ve met him?’

‘No, he keeps putting his requests in, but I’m too busy.’ It’s him concealing a grin now.

I laugh, and he slips his wayfarers on, but not before giving me a wink and a little jiggle of his shoulders.

Laidback Justin. God, I love this man.

* * *

Justin takes us on an adventure around the airport, dipping and weaving past cars, taking turns in the wrong direction and generally just seeming like he has no idea where he’s going. I watch the sign for the airport car park go sailing past my window and frown to myself. Then I look at the clock. It’s eleven thirty and we’re supposed to be flying in half an hour. We haven’t checked in, done security or anything.

‘Shit!’ I blurt, grabbing my bag up from the floor.

‘Selena, mouth! What’s up?’ He takes a corner too hard, and my hand shoots out to steady myself on the door.

‘Will you take it easy?’ I snap irritably. Would now be a good time to point out that his driving is stupid?

‘Selena, there’s no place you’re safer than in a car with me. What’s the matter?’ He doesn’t look at me, so he can’t appreciate the look of disbelief on my face, but then I swiftly remember why I was oh shitting in the first place.

‘My passport.’ I say, diving into my bag, looking in complete vain because I know it’s not in here. I didn’t put it in here, and my rummaging slows when I realise exactly where my passport is. He’ll go spare. ‘I’ve left my passport in my box of junk.’ I tell him, mentally cursing myself for not sorting that box out yet.

He reaches forward and flips the glove compartment open. ‘No you haven’t, but you have forgotten to get your name changed, Miss O’Shea.’ He drops it on my lap and tosses me a reproachful look.

‘So I’m travelling a single?’ I ask, opening it up and admiring my maiden name.

‘Shut up, Selena.’ He screeches to a stop and jumps out, making quick work of getting around to my side and opening my door. I would have done it myself, but I’m just staring out of the windscreen with my mouth slightly agape. ‘Come on.’

I look up as a well suited and booted man approaches with a man in a captain’s uniform. My passport is whipped from my grasp, hands are shook, paperwork and signatures are exchanged, and then our luggage is removed from the boot.

‘Are you going to sit there all day, lady?’ He holds his hand out to me, and I take it automatically, letting him pull me from the car.

‘What’s that?’ I ask, nodding at the toy-like plane sitting a few yards away from us.

‘That’s a plane.’ There is humour in his voice. I’m pulled towards the jet, not feeling any more enthusiastic as we get closer because it’s not getting any bigger, and I’m not filled with any further confidence when Justin has to dip to enter the damn thing to avoid smacking his head. I halt on the ridiculously small amount of steps that will have me boarding, and Justin turns to see what’s keeping me when our arms are pulled taut between us. ‘Selena?’

‘I’m not getting on that thing.’ I’m attacked by an unreasonable bout of fear. I’ve never been afraid of flying, but this little plane is really pumping the anxiety through my veins. I feel a little breathless, too.

He smiles, but frowns at the same time. ‘Of course you are.’ My arm is tugged gently, encouragingly, but I’m not shifting. In fact, I’m backing away. ‘Selena, you’ve never said you’re scared of flying.’ He re-dips and stands up straight, back on the outside of the jet.

‘I’m not. In big planes. Why are we not going on a big plane?’ I look behind me and see heaps of big planes. ‘Why can’t we go on one of those?’

‘Because they’re probably not going where we need them to.’ he says softly. I feel my arm go lax in front of me from where he’s getting closer, and then his palm is on my cheek. ‘It’s perfectly safe.’ he assures me, pulling my face away from all of the big planes that I’d like to board instead. I don’t care if they’re not going where we need them to. I’ll go wherever they take me.

‘It doesn’t look safe.’ I glance past him and see a perfectly positioned woman with perfectly styled hair, perfect make-up and a perfect smile. ‘It looks too small.’

‘Selena,’ His soft, re-assuring voice pulls my eyes back to his. He’s smiling down at me. ‘This is me, your possessive, unreasonable, over-protective control freak.’ He kisses me gently. ‘Do you really think I’d willingly put you in danger?’

I shake my head, fully aware that I’m being a complete baby. My fear has surprised me, though. I should be shocked that he’s booked a private jet, but I’m not. The fact that I’m expected to fly on this private jet is more shocking. ‘I feel a little nervous.’ I admit quietly, the visible closeness of all personnel, including the captain behind me, registering in my apprehensive mind.

‘Answer my question.’ he pushes.

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Good.’ He rounds me and clasps my shoulders, pushing me gently up the steps. ‘You’ll love it, trust me.’

‘Good morning!’ The perfect woman, who’s still standing perfectly in place, greets us, holding her arm out in a signal of where to go. It’s really not necessary. There are one of two ways, and I’m not going anywhere near the cockpit.

Peering inside, I notice just a few chairs, all massive, all leather, all reclining, and just two rows of them—one of each side of the jet. I’m directed to the middle, turned around and eased down into the soft plumpness. I keep quiet and resist the urge to bolt as Justin secures my seatbelt and takes a seat opposite me. He immediately lifts my feet to his lap.

‘Champagne, sir?’ Perfect lady is back, and I spy her beaming at my God, but I’m too busy gathering my pathetic anxiousness to trample.

‘Just water.’ Justin answers shortly, with no smile, no acknowledgment and no please. She beats a hasty retreat, and Justin slips my ballet pumps from my feet, dropping them carelessly to the floor before getting comfy and repositioning my feet so they’re at a good angle for him to massage. ‘Okay?’ he asks.

‘Not really.’ I have no idea what has gotten into me. ‘There were regular flights Selenailable, weren’t there?’ I ask suspiciously, having a quick glimpse out of the under average size window.

‘I don’t know, I didn’t check. We don’t do commercial, Selena.’

‘You don’t. I do.’ I wiggle my toes. ‘I haven’t got swollen feet yet, you know.’

His thumbs are working delicious, firm circles into the instep of my feet. ‘Close your eyes and make yourself comfy, baby.’ he orders tenderly, and I do. My eyes slowly shut, and the last image I see is of my God lovingly massaging my feet, trying to ease me out of my unwarranted fit of nervousness.

I let my mind shut down and drift into a semi-conscious state of bliss. It’s not a difficult task to achieve when he’s touching me, even if it is just my feet. It’s the usual scenario of Justin drawing all of my troubles out of me, whether it’s justified troubles, or completely trivial, unnecessary troubles, like a sudden fear of flying. My subliminal state only barely notes that regardless of trivial or justified troubles, Justin is the maker.

And then my mind moseys through all things Justin-ish–the lace, the calla lilies, the peanut butter, the scorns for swearing—and I mentally smile. All of the various degrees of Justin style f**king’s, the temper, the playfulness, the gentleness. I might really be smiling now. The handcuffs, the lace gag, the crucifix, the rowing machine, the Selena éclair. My heart has sped up. The dirty blonde, the addictive, sludgy but bright eyes, the sculptured perfection, the one and two days’ worth of stubble. The way he flicks the collar up on his polo shirts, his various smiles—for women, for me, and now for my tummy, too. His fierceness, his protectiveness, his dominant ways. The way he walks and the way he tramples, and all of the ways in which he loves me, with unapologetic, raw adoration. The way I return that love.

I shift in my seat and in my subconscious, I hear his laugh. The soft, low one. Then I feel the wet warmness of his tongue on my toe. I smile, being snapped from all of my mental assessments of my beautiful husband. I open one eye, and I’m greeted by his smile, reserved only for me.

‘Dreaming?’ he asks, biting down on my little toe.

‘Of you.’ I sigh. ‘Tell me when we take off so I can put my head between my legs.

‘I’ll put my head between your legs.’ He sucks my toe, and I shudder.

‘Just tell me.’

‘Look out the window, baby.’

I frown and gaze out, expecting to find runways and planes, but instead, I find clouds. ‘Oh!’ My relaxed state falters, just for a split second, before I register no movement. There is hardly any sound, either. It’s really peaceful. I look to the side and see our waters placed on a highly polished table, and then I peek down the aisle and see the perfect woman pottering around at the other end of the jet. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I ask, settling back in my seat.

He kisses my toe. ‘And miss the sounds and looks you were making?’ He drops my foot. ‘Come here.’ I don’t stall for a second. I unclip my belt and virtually dive onto his lap, nestling my head under his chin and wrapping my arms around his neck. ‘Go back to sleep and dream of me, lady.’

He doesn’t need to ask twice. Our early start and long drive has taken it out of me, and I don’t want to be beat when we land wherever we’re landing. I still haven’t asked, but I don’t care. It’s going to be warm, sunny, and just me and Justin.

* * *

I come to, still tucked into Justin’s body. I can hear him quietly speaking, but it’s all muffled. A little groggy, I pull myself up a little and find the perfect woman hovering over us. ‘Welcome to Malaga, Mrs Ward.’ She blasts me with an insincere, part-of-the-job smile.

‘Thank you.’ I return her smile, although mine is weaker, but definitely more sincere. Malaga? Like Spain Malaga? Like near to Marbella Malaga?

‘My beautiful girl’s back.’ He kisses my cheek. ‘Enjoy your flight?’

I look at him through my fog of sleepiness and note a stubbled, hazy, smiling face, and a dishevelled mop of dark blonde. ‘Do I yank your hair in my sleep?’ I croak, reaching up to pat it down.

‘You do a lot in your sleep. I could watch you forever.’

I make to move, but get absolutely nowhere. ‘I need to stretch.’ I complain, wriggling.

I hear a click, and I’m instantly free. ‘I needed to belt you in.’ He helps me to my feet and watches as my arms raise, nearly touching the ceiling of the plane. Oh, that feels too good.

‘Aren’t I supposed to be belted into my own seat for landing?’ I ask, ‘With my seat in the upright position, my table stowed away, and all of my belongings tucked neatly under the seat in front?’

He raises a sardonic eyebrow. ‘Yes. I very nearly had to trample the lovely lady.’ He stands himself and pulls my blouse down, which is riding up my navel from my stretched position. He holds it in place until I’ve finished. ‘Done?’

‘Yes,’ I yawn, as he releases the hem of my top. I know this is probably a sign of things to come over the next couple of days, but he’d better lighten up and fast because I’ve packed my bikinis, and I’ll be wearing them.

As we emerge into the bright sunlight, I smile, the heat hitting my face and warming me to the core. Or warming me further. I already have a lovely, peaceful warmth coursing through me, and that’s only going to increase over the next few days. Taking the steps down to the tarmac, we’re immediately greeted by a smart Spanish man, who hands Justin a set of keys. Then I spot the DBS.

‘Really?’ I blurt. ‘We couldn’t have taken a taxi?’

He scoffs and signs the paperwork presented to him. ‘I don’t do public transport, Selena.’

‘You should. It’ll save you a fortune.’

Handing back the paperwork, he makes quick work of putting me in the wrong side of the car, throwing me off a little. Once he’s buckled me in and I’ve gathered my bearings, I settle in the familiar, if a little warmer, softness of the leather seat and listen to the bumping and banging of the luggage being loaded into the boot.

Justin jumps in and slips his shades on. ‘Are you ready to be binged on for the next three days?’

‘No, take me home.’ I grin and lean across, planting a kiss on his lips.

‘Not a chance, lady. You’re all mine, and I’m going to make the most of it.’ He returns my kiss, palming the back of my head to pull me closer.

‘I’m always yours’

‘Correct. Get used to it.’ I’m released before he hastily rams the Aston in gear and screeches away from the Jet.

‘I am used to it.’ I muse, resting my elbow on the door and settling my head so I can watch the unfamiliar world go by. It’s all very boring and concrete-like for quite some time as we make our way out of the airport and away from the hustle and bustle of central Malaga, but then we hit a coast road, and the sight of the Mediterranean meeting the sky holds my attention for the rest of the journey. Mansun sing about a Wide Open Space, and the smell of heat mixed with the kicked up dust of the well-worn road overpowers the usual lingering scent of fresh water, leaving me resentful of its intrusion on my nose. Apart from that smell, it’s blissful. We cruise along in a comfortable silence, the stereo in the background keeping us company, Justin’s hand resting on my knee, and mine clutching it. I sneak a peek of his profile and smile before I close my eyes, relax further into the leather and think of the tranquil, undisturbed time ahead of us.

* * *

I’m not asleep, but my eyes come open when the road beneath the tyres becomes bumpy and the car starts jolting all over the place. I look to the road ahead and the first thing that strikes me is the appalling condition of it. There’s rubble all over the rut riddled surface, leaving Justin negotiating the prestigious car with care. I’ve never known him to drive with such caution, but it’s blatantly obvious that any faster, then he’s likely to take out the bottom of the car.

x'>

[meara-eldestofthemall]

All of the grief counseling sites say that writing is cathartic. Having spent so much of my life writing (and editing) it should be natural for me, so I thought I'd give it a shot. What the heck; this is my blog and if I want to be a little self-indulgent every now and then I can. Besides, I doubt anyone is actually going to read this.

It now been a little over a month since I buried my husband and the dirty little secret about grief is that it never ends. You just get better at living with it. I still wake up at night because our bed feels empty without him. A decade ago,I'd never have believed that I'd miss having to wrestle for the covers. Or the snoring.

There are things I kind of expected, such as the approximately two hundred brochures from gravestone companies (excuse me, a Memorial/Monuments Business). While it's an odd thing to see your beloved's life reduced to two dates (born and died) it's just... weird to see your own name next to his with date of death left blank. I mean I know I'm going to die eventually but that blank space gives me the impression that Death (who in my imagination looks surprisingly like Alfred Pennyworth) is standing next to the stone impatiently tapping their watch. Why do I feel as if it is impolite to keep Death waiting?

There are also things I never expected, such as all the solicitations to join senior dating sites. While I'm sure that there are old ladies who take joy in the idea that there even older men who want the opportunity to make a play for their wrinkled bodies, I am not one of them. The only one I intend to invite anywhere near my bedroom is the dog I'm going to be getting. If they get too pushy I can put then put them in a cage and no one will call the cops on me.

My auto insurance went up. I called AlState, told them my husband had died and after offering their condolences they raised my premium. Granted, it was only a few dollars but it's the principal of the thing. My driving record is exemplary, not so much as a speeding ticket in 30 years, but because I am now covering one instead of two it costs me more? That makes no sense whatsoever.

Thanks for listening. I feel a little better. Maybe there is something to cathartic writing after all.

[meara-eldestofthemall]

Tim and Damian: A Tale of Two Robins

The latest issue of Batman (# 147) clearly underscores the differing ways Tim and Damian each approach the role of Robin. It's why DC has been able to get away with having two very different characters simultaneously wearing the mantle.

For Damian, Robin is fundementally a position of honor and a source of pride. It's an affirmation of his unique status as the biological child of Bruce Wayne. Damian wants to do good and he wants to be the best at it. There's nothing wrong with that per say. Many heroes are driven by the same inner need for validation. Being Robin is an honor to which Damian feels he has earned the right.

For Tim, Robin is foremost a calling or vocation. The Robin mantle is definitely an honor but it's not the primary driving force behind why he's in the cape. To him Robin is much more than just a kid who fights with Batman. Tim is heavily invested in in protecting the symbolism of what both Robin as well as Batman and Robin stand for. Please note that it's not Damian or Dick that tracks Bruce down in this issue even though they're both quite capable of doing that. It's Tim who goes after Bruce.

Tim being the one to step up to save Bruce from his own worst impulses is what he does. He's an Emotional Support Robin as much as he is a partner to Batman. From the very beginning Tim saw Robin as someone Batman needs to function properly.

To this day Tim still maintains that Robin's primary responsibility is not to be a sidekick but be someone who will save Batman from both external and internal threats when required. He's a vital balance, a counterweight to the shadows that Batman inhabits.

In many ways that idea is at the crux of the differences between Tim and Damian's approach to being Robin.

Damian initially saw the mantle of Robin as his birthright due to his being Bruce's biological son. Yes, it seems like a strange idea but let's cut the kid some slack. Damian was all of ten years old when he first met his father. He'd also been raised in a cult that all but worshipped the AL Ghul family. He was an arrogant little princeling because that's what he was raised to be.

Tim sees Robin as Batman's partner but not his subordinate. Sure, all the Robins started as "sidekicks" but Dick and Jason's Robins never had the kind of independence Tim's Robin enjoys. Remember that it was a lack of autonomy that drove Dick away from Bruce in the first place. Jason's Robin rarely, if ever, worked independently of Batman. Tim, on the other hand, started handling his own cases less than a year after debuting in the role. Tim doesn't see himself as an apprentice but as a full partner. What's more he throughly enjoys that aspect of being Robin.

People wonder why Tim hasn't created a new identity that's not linked to Batman. The short answer is that Tim feels that he's already doing that. Robin is an independent hero and has been for years. He's been more than capable of operating without a net since before Damian showed up. Tim isn't shy about that view point, either. When Bruce tries to push Tim's Robin in ways Tim doesn't like, the kid will tell Batman "no" then continue doing things on his own .

Damian, on the other hand, constantly chafes against how Bruce's Batman wants him to act as Robin. Just like his father Damian doesn't like to be wrong and that shared stubbornness causes the two of them endless arguments. Damian's earliest teachings within the League will forever be at odds with Bruce's demands of Robin. The clashing expectations cause an internal conflict that leaves him at war with both his father and himself. No wonder the poor kid has a short temper. Trying to be both Damian al Ghul and Damian Wayne has got to be exhausting.

It's a testament to Damian's strength of character that he's been able to overcome the indoctrination from the League as much as he has. It's never going to completely leave him, however, because the lessons engrained into Damian at such a young age formed the core of his personality. Working with Dick's Batman helped him to learn some empathy and the value of tempering his worst impulses. Unfortunately Damian is primarily working with Bruce not Dick.

Damian is also 13 years old who has been seeking his father's approval and respect since the day he met the man. Bruce, being the emotional disaster that he is, fails to recognize that most of the time. This is why Damian is so completely taken in by Zur pretending to be Bruce. For the first time Damian is getting both approval and positive attention for being more violent than is necessary. His dysfunctional childhood and his work as Robin are finally in harmony and Damian loves it. It's also why poor the poor kid is so crushed when he figures out what's going on.

Tim, meanwhile, has stepped into his role as Emotional Support Robin (whether that's a good or bad thing is a debate for another time). His ability to ground Batman is why he can have this conversation with Bruce:

Tim also has one other crucial advantage that Damian, Dick or Jason never had. Tim was Bruce's partner long before he became his son. He's able to slide back into that role at the drop of a hat.

Damian will always be the son of Batman first and Robin second. That father/son dynamic that Bruce isn't very good at will try and lock Damian into a subordinate position in a misguided attempt to keep his son safe. That kind of micromanaging is something Dami will only tolerate for so long. Leaving Robin to take up a mantle of his own creation is all but inevitable.

Tim and Damian may both be Robin to Bruce's Batman but their perceptions of who and what Robin should be is radically different. And as I said before, that's not a bad thing at all.

[meara-eldestofthemall]

I guess ideally and for the sake of it;

Despite his gothic, Brooding demeanor, cold blooded bloodedness in his his combat abilities, the fact the aesthetics he chose was specifically for instilling fear and even on his better days is filled to the brim with negative emotions towards the world around him and himself, is it safe to classify Batman as not an Anti Hero due to his deep down love for his students/adoptive children, his One Rule and even trying at some points helping the very city that wronged him?

Thanks for the excellent ask!

You're right. Batman is most definitely not an anti-hero. You can call him the Dark Brooding Hero, the Damaged Hero or even the Broken Hero but he's not an anti-hero.

One of the things I find most fascinating about comic books is that the long term characters at Marvel and DC are all archetypes. Think of them as the modern version of Perseus, Agamemnon or Odysseus. Their actions reinforce certain truths that our society holds as upright. They act as mirrors of the good, the bad and the changing ideals of society. Batman is definitely in the darker end of the hero spectrum, but he's not an anti-hero. He has a clear perspective of what's right and what's wrong. Batman acts is ways that are morally compatible with society at large. That's what a hero does.

He has one hard and unyielding truth. He does not kill (not directly anyway). Batman knows that the justice system is fallible, some might say it's broken in various ways. As a hero Batman feels that he does not have the right to act as judge, jury and executioner. This is what kept him at odds with Jason's more direct methods of seeing justice done. Even when Jason kills with "good" reason, there is a part of him that's upset by what he's done. This is why the Red Hood is an anti-hero. He acts in ways considered "bad" by society but for mostly "good" reasons.

Yes, Bruce Wayne is a man in desperate need of therapy. He can be an emotionally constipated jerk with paranoid tendencies even on his best days. That doesn't negate the fact that Batman knows exactly where the line he can never cross is. He has his own code, one that is in line with the Judeo/Christian ethics that this and most European countries laws were built on. That's why he's a hero and not an anti-hero.

At least in my opinion...

[meara-eldestofthemall]

there was a character from the Birds of Prey book who so far hasn’t made her Post-Flashpoint appearance but I personally feel like she should;

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe aka Misfit

Basically think of her as a Batgirl with Nightcrawler’s teleportation powers

Thoughts on her and should she make a comeback? If yes to the latter question, how would you do so?

Thanks for the ask!

Misfit got introduced far too late in DC's original continuity to make a lasting impact. I suspect she was going to be the Birds of Prey's version of Robin (she was an orphan with a tragic backstory after all). Misfit was meant to be the young teen hero who needed mentoring.

Stephanie was too experienced (and kicking butt as Batgirl) at that point for that particular role. The whole teleporting ability was a distinctive touch along with Charlotte's catch phrase, "Dark Vengeance."

It's hard to say if Misfit would've had lasting appeal. As for bringing her back, I'm not favor of it but not for the reason you'd think.

The Batfamily is already too crowded. For a vigilante who claims to work alone Bruce has gathered enough people around his banner for a football team.

Sweet mother - look at all of them. The Batfamily started out small in the 90s with Batman, Nightwing and Robin...

then it grew...

And grew some more...

And just kept growing.

There are too many good characters already being under-used. Trying squeeze in the reintroduction of Misfit would require putting yet another established character on the shelf. Who would be shoved aside this time to make enough room for Charlotte to have a meaningful story arc?

Bruce is about to die (again). That's something that will effect the whole family. Comics are a limited medium for that kind of emotional storytelling already. Until the Batfamily gets substantially smaller there just isn't room for a new character.

[meara-eldestofthemall]

Now that a certain film has been in theaters as of the past few weeks, the question now must be asked;

Which of the following films is considered the best from the least to greatest:

Batman 89, Mask of the Phantasm, Dark Knight 2008 and Batman 2022

(if you haven’t seen any of the more recent ones, you may eliminate them from consideration. I apologize in advance)

Thanks for the great ask!

This is a very easy one for me. "Batman: Mask of the Phantasm" is the clear winner for me. It was a surprisingly complex story for an animated movie from the 90s. The cast was stellar (nothing will ever surpass Kevin Conroy and Mark Hamill as Batman and the Joker), the writing crisp and the animation excellent. It was a winner all around.

I haven't seen the new Robert Patterson Batman movie and, to be honest, I have no deep seated need to rush out and do it. "Emo-Batman" is not a look I like on the character. DC seems patently unable to learn from Marvel's MCU success. The MCU has plenty of dark moments but they make sure to balance the grittiness with a laugh to give the films more balance. Comic book movies, by their nature, aren't meant to be deep, moving stories that make you think. That's what books are for. Comic book movies meant to be good entertainment with the occasional life lesson snuck in.

The Batman live action movies all suffer greatly from either being too campy (pre 2000s) or too dark and angsty (2005 and onward) for my tastes. This is why I like the Batman: The Animated Series. Bruce can be dark, brooding and grim, but he also has balancing moments that humanize him. For some reason adapting this simple formula for live action has proven to be something DC can't do effectively.

There were some excellent performances in the live action movies (Heath Ledger's Joker was amazing) but the heavy emphasis on angst gets tiresome after a while. So I will always choose Batman: Mask of the Phantasm as the clear winner.