#Jade Marty

[futurama]

god yes

[veeples-archive]

musicalis interruptus

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles ship: specialist agent mason x faustus word count: ~800 warnings: minimal suggestive text 🤷 set around general book three-ish. it's summer.

Cutting Faustus’s hair hadn’t been in their plans.

Plans weren’t really structured a thing, but they’d established a pattern. Expectation. Watching some shit ass horror movie Faustus dug out of a bargain bin. A pack of cheap beer shared on the warehouse’s roof with only each other and the stars for company. Sometimes not talking to each other at all, only the sound of Faustus picking his guitar and scribbling notes between them.

It was all pretense for one thing, really: a bed or a couch or an alley if they were both desperate enough, Faustus under him, or him under Faustus, tallying each time they’d made the other come undone.

(Faustus is in the lead by two. He doesn’t play fair, especially when it comes to his mouth, but Mason finds it hard to fault him for playing dirty when it does it so damn well.)

They know the game, they play it well. 

Yet here is instead. In Faustus’s kitchen because the bathroom was too small to fit them both, a halo of black hair around his feet, an electric razor pressed into his hand to clear the overgrown backside Faustus couldn’t reach. At least Faustus had clipped and sheared the front and top himself.

“Gonna miss this fringe on you.” Mason runs his pointer finger around the black hair curling down Faustus’s neck. When Mason first met Faustus four months ago – Had it already been four months? Had it only been four months? – it’d been short and neat. “Like having something to pull.”

Mason catches the eye roll in the mirror Faustus propped on the kitchen table. “Me too, sunshine, but you don’t have to put up with the dumbass way it sticks up in the morning. Besides, it’s getting too hot to have it this long.”

Mason understands. He’s started pulling back the bulk of his hair into a loose ponytail to stave off the summer heat encroaching down on them. It didn’t explain why Faustus had decided that Mason of all people needed to cut his hair in the middle of Reanimator.

“No shit.” Mason thumbs the switch of the razor. He hates to say he’s hesitating, but most of his experience with tending to his own hair was trimming the dead ends, and even then it was only something he did every few months. “You know I’ve never done this crap before, don’t you.”

“It’s just hair. Even if you manage to fuck it up it’ll grow back.” Faustus shrugs one shoulder. 

“Don’t tell me this backwater town doesn’t even have a lousy barber.” 

“You’re here, aren’t you? I’ve trusted you with more than just a pair of fucking clippers, Mason.” Faustus twists in the worn kitchen chair to grin up at him. One hand hovers close to the one holding the razor, as if in motion to take it. 

Mason pulls the razor away and sneers at the smirk he receives in turn. “If you end up bald in the back don’t blame me, handsome.”

“Unless you fuck around with the settings I won’t. Anyway, wouldn’t I look hot as a cue ball?” Faustus bats his eyelashes, voice all plastic sweetness.

“No.” Yes. “Are you going to turn around so I can do this or what?”

Dramatics aside, Mason knows there’s a nugget of honesty hidden in it. Faustus trusts him. It’s a more plain show of truth than he’s come to expect from the detective who lies as easy as he breathes. Mason figures he can at least put in some amount of effort to not screw up his hair for it.

Lengths of hair fall away as Mason pushes the razor up the curve of Faustus’s head with no real grace or finesse. Mason goes slow, methodical. Faustus offers some direction, telling him where to stop, taking the razor to change the setting, and giving it back. They pass twenty minutes like this, swapping banter with the razor, until finally Mason does his best to neaten the back into an even line.

It’s not bad. It’s not great, either. The back’s a little choppy, but so are the bangs that Faustus took a naked razor to. Messy, punk, but fitting; Mason feels proud enough that Faustus doesn’t look like he went through a wood shredder. 

“You’re done.”

Faustus’s fingers reach back around his neck, skimming the jagged half circle scarred into his skin, feeling the sharpness of freshly cut fuzz. He sighs his approval, rolls his head back. Upside-down smiles at Mason, all syrupy laziness.

“Thanks,” Faustus says, reaching for him. Mason shuffles forward, leans down when Faustus tugs the loose flap of his shirt. “Feel better already.”

Faustus kisses him with a curious gentleness Mason is becoming more familiar with.

He’d kissed him like that after they saved that fortune teller woman in Mason’s bedroom when he’d been expecting fire instead of warmth. Mason had kissed Faustus like that at the bakery without understanding why. He still doesn’t. He doesn’t care to explore it either.

It’s enough to know Mason never liked kissing anyone more than he likes kissing Faustus.

“C’mon.” Faustus says as he rocks forward out of the chair, hair fluttering around him, immediately ignored. “We still gotta finish Re-animator so we can put on Bride of Re-animator.”

[aliengirl]

Welcome home, Luca McBerry <3

[littletroubledgrrrl]

[possession1981]

[broomballkraken]

Title: A Cute Lady Luck

Fandom: Wylde Flowers

Pairing(s): Marty/Natalia

Word count: 5434

Warnings: None

Summary: Marty recently acquired a horse and asks Natalia if she could make some horseshoes for him. She agrees, but when they try to put the shoes on, the horse violently objects. Natalia was lucky to come out unscathed, but Marty…not so much.

Luck seemed to elude them today, but by the end of the night, Marty and Natalia both felt like the luckiest people in the world.

“Whew, I think that’s the last ingot for this order…”

Natalia let out a long sigh and wiped the sweat from her brow. A satisfied smile crossed her face as she studied the neat pile of gold ingots next to the forge; Francis should be set for a while with these.

Running a hand through her hair, she took a generous swig of water before squirting some on her face. She dried her face with a clean cloth and gave her head a shake. Natalia loved her job, but it could get exhausting, so she was glad when she managed to finish a job early and get a little bit of a break in.

“Hi, Natalia!”

She glanced outside, smiling and waving as she greeted Tara and Kai while they walked by, hand-in-hand. They seemed to be heading to town, so Natalia kept the small talk brief and shortly sent them on their way. When they were out of sight, the smile fell from Natalia’s face and she sighed again, but this time it was a bit dejected.

Tara was one of the kindest and most helpful people that she’d ever met. Natalia considered her to be one of her best friends, especially after she had been there for her after she had been possessed by a wraith of all things, even if Natalia hadn’t been aware of it at the time. That being said, she couldn’t help but feel jealous of her relationship with Kai. They were so adorable, and seemed like they were made for each other, and Natalia truly was happy for them. However, that didn’t stop her from wishing that she could find that special someone for her…if he even existed in the first place.

Pursing her lips, Natalia propped her elbows up on her anvil and frowned as she rest her chin on her hands. She knew that she should stay positive, but it was hard when she had an island dating pool. Still, the ferry was up and running again, so maybe today would be the day that her future husband would walk through her door…

“Uh, Natalia?”

Startled by the sudden voice, Natalia jerked up straight, eyes going wide when she saw Marty standing in front of her. The rancher wasn’t a common sight here at the forge, but he certainly wasn’t an unwelcome one. When he had first come to Fairhaven, Natalia didn’t really think he was her type.

But now, in spite of the revelations about his real identity and initial intentions in moving to the small island community, she had grown quite fond of him. He was cute and goofy and always managed to make her laugh, and his farm animals were so adorable, and he took great care of them even though he wasn’t that experienced of a rancher yet. Natalia’s little crush had gone from zero to one hundred very fast, and she always got a little flustered when Marty was around.

The fact that he had caught her daydreaming like an idiot when she was supposed to be working was pretty embarrassing though, and she quickly cleared her throat when she felt her face heat up considerably.

“Ah, h-hey Marty! What’s up?”

Marty raised an eyebrow at her, and her blush deepened when he gave her a once-over. “Are you feeling okay? I’ve been standing here for a few minutes now, and you’ve been staring off into space.”

Natalia winced and covered her face with her hands. “Ugh, why didn’t you say something sooner? How embarrassing…”

“You just looked so cu-er, I mean…” Marty stuttered, and Natalia cocked her head to one side as he averted his gaze and tugged at his collar, which was a bit odd. “N-Nevermind, it’s not important. But, what is important is this job that I have for you, if you’re up for it.”

“Okay, what is it?”

Marty grinned as he puffed out his chest and placed his hands on his hips. “Well, I managed to get my hands on a pretty nice horse, but he needs some horseshoes, so can you make a set for me, please?”

“Oh sure, I can do that!” Natalia said. She already made Marty one horseshoe after all, and butterflies took flight in her gut when she remembered the beautiful smile that he had on his face when she gave it to him as a symbol of good luck.

“Great, thanks! Neighthanial’s a pretty handsome lad, but he’s, uh, a bit of a handful…” Marty said as he rubbed at the back of his neck. Natalia snorted to stifle a laugh; where the hell did he come up with these silly names for his animals? 

“Also, I, er, don’t really know how to put on horseshoes, so I was wondering…would you mind giving me a hand with that too?”

Natalia rolled her eyes and shook her head. She knew that Marty had come to the island only posing as a rancher - and to everyone’s surprise, he had made great strides into actually becoming pretty good at the job - but she really wanted to question the decision to add a horse to his farm without knowing what the hell he was doing.

“Marty, I’m not trained in farriery, you know…”

“Aw, c’mon Natalia! It can’t be too far outside the realm of blacksmithing, right?” Marty took a step closer to her and reached out to take her hands, coaxing a startled squeak out of her. “Please? If you help me, I’ll give you free eggs and milk for a month in addition to your payment.”

Natalia could barely hear him over the sound of her heartbeat roaring in her ears, and her eyes remained fixated on their hands. Swallowing thickly, she bit her lip and forced herself to look back up at him.

“A-Alright, I can try.”

Marty let out a sigh of relief and swiped the back of his hand over his forehead. “Whew, I thought for a second there you were gonna say no and I’d have to ask Thomas for help…and I really didn’t want to do that.” He cringed hard, and Natalia couldn’t help but laugh this time.

“Oh, I’d love to see that.”

Marty pouted as she continued snickering, but she eventually managed to control herself. They went over the details together and Natalia gave him a quote for the cost, which he happily agreed to.

“Thanks a lot, Natalia! You can stop by whenever you finish the shoes-” Marty stated, but he cut himself off with a loud sneeze.

“Yikes, forget about me being sick, are you feeling alright?” Natalia asked, and her brow furrowed when his face flushed and he waved his hands frantically in front of him.

“Y-Yep, I’m right as rain! I’ll see you later, then…” Marty said, and when he turned to leave, he ran face-first into the doorframe.

Natalia gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, partially due to shock but mostly to keep herself from bursting out laughing. “Marty! Are you okay?”

Marty glanced at her over his shoulder as he rubbed at his forehead, before giving her a thumbs up. “Aha, I’m good! I’m just gonna…leave now, before I embarrass myself further…”

With that, Marty finally succeeded in leaving without injuring himself, and Natalia dissolved into a fit of giggles. What an odd man…an odd man that she had a really big crush on. He was hard to read, though, and Natalia was at a loss as to how he felt about her. There was also the fact that he spent quite a lot of time at Sophia’s diner, and that might complicate things, even though Sophia and Thomas were getting pretty serious now.

“Ugh, romance is hard…” Natalia mumbled, and her eyes wandered around the forge until she spotted the handful of flowers that she had picked on the way back from the mines on her last day off. A thought came to her mind that was rather childish, but she went over and picked one out of the pile anyway.

“He loves me…He loves me not…” Natalia mumbled as she started plucking the petals off the flower one by one. She continued speaking the pattern as she plucked, and her eyes went wide when she had the last petal pinched between her fingers.

“He…loves me…”

Staring down at the petal, Natalia’s face flushed as red as the fires of her forge, and she decided that she needed to get to work on Marty’s horseshoes right now, immediately, if only to take her mind off of romance, and Marty…and a romance with Marty...

---

A few days later, Natalia had finished making the horseshoes and made her way over to Marty’s ranch. After Marty went to get Neighthanial and brought him out into the field, she learned rather quickly what Marty had meant when he said that the new addition to his collection of critters was a handful.

“C’mon, Neighthanial! Can ya behave for two seconds?”

Neighthanial snorted and stamped a hoof as he shook his head so hard that he almost jerked his lead right out of Marty’s hands. Natalia crossed her arms over her chest and raised a dubious eyebrow.

“Geez, Marty, did you accidentally buy a wild stallion or what?”

“I don’t think so…” Marty muttered, causing Natalia to sigh and shake her head. “I’m sure he’s just…spirited, is all.”

“If you say so. Anyway, I looked up some farrier vids on Twittube that might help us here…” Natalia said as she set down her supplies and pulled out her phone. Marty leaned in close as she started playing one of them, and her heart started to race at their sudden close proximity.

“Do you think that’ll work for him?” Natalia asked when the video finished, and Marty shrugged.

“Er, I think so?”

Natalia rolled her eyes and bent over to pick up a horseshoe. “You’re not being very helpful, Farmer Boy. Well, let’s give it a try-”

“Natalia, look out!”

Natalia jerked her head up when Marty’s distressed cry cut her off, and she let out a shriek when he shoved her out of the way before taking a nasty kick from Neighthanial.

“Marty!” she yelled, scrambling to her feet and rushing to him. Marty groaned from his spot on the ground, curled up into a fetal position and clutching at his side. Neighthanial snorted, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he trotted over to mingle with Mootilda.

Panic welled up inside of Natalia as she jerked her head from side to side, trying to think of the best thing to do. They were out of town, so no one would probably hear her cry for help, and she didn’t know how injured Marty was. There was no time to think about it; she needed to get him to Amira right now.

“Oof, that’s gonna leave a mark-” Marty started, and he let out a yelp when he was suddenly thrown over Natalia’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and she rushed off towards town without a second thought.

“N-Natalia, what are you-”

“Shh! Don’t talk, Marty! I’ll get you to Amira and she’ll save your life for sure!”

“M-My life…?”

Natalia ignored his further protests, spurred on by panic and fear. Getting kicked by a horse was no joke, and it would have been her if Marty hadn’t pushed her out of the way! Why would he do something so dangerous? She barely noticed the concerned inquiries from her neighbors as she sprinted through town as fast as she could, and she only stopped when she had burst into the clinic, rushed into the back, and tossed Marty onto the empty examination table.

“...Can I help you two?”

Amira looked between the two of them with a sparkle of amusement in her eyes, while Bruno raised a confused eyebrow from his spot on the second table. Marty seemed to recover from his rather unusual means of transport, and he winced as he wrapped his arms around himself with a groan.

“Please help, Amira! Marty got kicked by his horse!” Natalia pleaded, and she could feel tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes. Amira’s eyes went wide for a moment, and she turned to Bruno.

“This might be serious, Bruno. You should be all set for today.”

“Right, thanks Doc. Good luck with…whatever this is.”

Bruno chuckled and gave Marty a gentle pat on the arm as he walked by and left. Amira’s demeanor turned serious as she moved to Marty’s side.

“Natalia, you can stay here, but please give me some space,” Amira said, and Natalia was quick to obey and took a few steps backward.

“You can save him, right?!?” Natalia blurted out, and she pouted when Amira laughed.

“He’s not going to die.”

Marty winced when Amira lifted up his shirt to examine the side where he got kicked. “I might die from embarrassment though…”

Amira let out another chuckle and shook her head. “That I can’t help you with.”

“Don’t you have some embarrassment-be-gone spell you can cast or something…?”

“Nope.”

Marty groaned as Amira worked her magic - both literal and figurative - while Natalia looked on, wringing her hands together as she tried to keep her anxiety from making her heart beat right out of her chest. After what felt like an eternity, Amira looked between Marty and Natalia and smiled.

“Well, it looks like nothing’s broken, Marty, so you got lucky this time,” she said, and he let out a long sigh and collapsed back onto the table, looking very relieved. “You’ll just have a nasty bruise to deal with for a bit. I’ll give you something for the pain in the meantime.”

“Is…he really okay?” Natalia said with slight hesitation.

Amira nodded as she helped Marty off the table and walked over to her medicine cabinet. “Yes. It seems that he had a very good luck charm protecting him.”

“Huh?”

Natalia raised an eyebrow at her, but Amira failed to elaborate, and instead shot Natalia a wink, which only served to confuse her more.

“Here, Marty. Take two of these,” Amira said as she handed him the pills and a cup of water. While he was preoccupied with that, Amira leaned over to whisper in Natalia’s ear: “And if the pain gets worse, well, maybe someone could kiss it and make it feel all better~”

She jerked away from Amira, whose eyebrows were wagging as a grin slowly spread over her face. Natalia’s face flushed a bright red and she quickly turned away; now she was going to die of embarrassment…

A sheepish smile crossed Marty’s face as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Er, thanks, Amira. Sorry for the trouble-Achoo!” Marty let out a loud sneeze, and Natalia’s brow furrowed with concern.

“Oh, that’s what I’m here for,” Amira said as she handed Marty a tissue, “And let me know if that little cold gets worse too. I’ll send you the bill!”

Marty’s face paled slightly at that, and Amira’s laughter faded away as Natalia grabbed Marty’s arm and dragged him out of the clinic.

“What the hell were you thinking, Marty?” Natalia said as she jabbed a finger at his chest, “Why’d you push me out of the way like that?”

Marty was silent and his gaze fell to the ground, and when his pretty blue eyes moved back up to meet hers, Natalia inhaled sharply when he reached out to take her hand.

“Natalia, I…You could’ve been really hurt by a kick that you didn’t see coming. I had time to brace myself at least…”

“Marty…” Natalia felt a warmth blossom within her chest, and she puffed out her cheeks, “Thank you, but I didn’t want you to get hurt either. I was…really scared.”

“Ah, well, sorry for scaring you…” Marty trailed off, giving Natalia’s hand a squeeze, and her fingers twitched as she barely resisted the urge to entwin them with his.

“S-Still, you got hurt because of me, so…let me buy you dinner!” Natalia blurted out, and she began to tug him away from the clinic and towards Cafe Moretti.

Marty offered some resistance, but didn’t pull his hand away, which Natalia was very happy about. “Um, you really don’t have to do that, Natalia…”

Natalia pursed her lips and shook her head. “But I want to, Marty.” And for more than one reason, but Natalia kept that to herself. “C’mon, it’s the least I can do after you took that hit for me.”

“Er, o-okay then…”

Natalia beamed as she pulled him into the diner, and she let out a surprised squeak when Sophia suddenly appeared right in front of her.

“Well, well! So, the rumors about you two were true!” she said, beaming as she clapped her hands together. Natalia shared a confused glance with Marty.

“Rumors?”

“Yes, rumors, about how you two have gotten quite cozy with one another.” Sophia raised an eyebrow, pointing at Natalia and Marty’s hands, which were still entwined, and placing her free hand on her hip. “You coming here on a date just about seals the deal.”

“D-Date?!?” Natalia blurted out, jerking her hand from Marty’s impulsively, and she frowned when his face fell. “T-This isn’t really a date, I just, uh, owe Marty for saving me from getting hurt…”

Sophia looked back and forth between the two of them a few times, before her cheeks puffed up and she huffed. “Really, is that all? Mannaggia, you got me all worked up for nothing.”

“Er, well,” Marty finally spoke up, and he glanced at Natalia with shy eyes as a light blush rose upon his cheeks. “I-If this was a date…I really wouldn’t mind at all…”

Natalia’s face flushed a bright red, and she felt like she was going to be crushed under the combined weight of both Marty and Sophia’s intense, hopefully stares. “I, uh, I guess…we could call it…a date…”

“Oh meravigliosa!” Sophia clapped her hands together again and quickly ushered Natalia and Marty to an empty booth, and Natalia tried to ignore the very interested stares coming from the neighboring booth occupied by Giva and Kim.

“So, what can I get you two lovebirds?” Sophia asked after she had poured them both glasses of water. Marty let out a nervous laugh and Natalia’s gaze was fixed on the table. God, she really was going to die of embarrassment at this rate…

“I-I’ll have the beef stroganoff, please.”

“The same for me, please.”

Natalia jerked her head up and cocked it to one side, and a wide grin spread across Sophia’s face. “Ordering the same thing, how romantic! I’ll be back with your order soon, have fun now!” Sophia rushed back to the kitchen with a skip in her step, and Natalia’s heartbeat was roaring within her ears as she was left alone with Marty.

She couldn’t believe she was on a date with Marty. Before this bizarre day had begun, Natalia had no idea how he felt about her, but to hear him call this dinner a date really got her hopes up that he saw her as more than a friend. But what if he had said that just to appease Sophia? Natalia’s heart clenched when she remembered that he spent a lot of time here, and what if he still had a crush on her? Oh no…

Natalia bit her lip and gave her head a quick shake. Marty was staring at her, and he opened his mouth a few times, but he snapped it shut before saying anything. Holy hell, this was so awkward. She needed to say something, if only to keep her mind from wandering into a dark place of uncertainty and insecurity.

To save them both from the uncomfortable silence, Natalia blurted out the first thing that came to her mind: “I didn’t know you liked beef stroganoff, Marty.”

Marty blinked at her a few times, before a cute, shy smile crossed his face and he rubbed at his neck. “Well, I know it’s one of your favorites, so I figured I’d give it a try. Er, d-don’t ask me how I know that…”

Natalia hummed as she narrowed her eyes at him; she had a feeling that Tara’s witchcraft might have had something to do with how he came across that information. Hm, maybe she could help Natalia figure out some of Marty’s favorites as well…

Sophia returned with their food, and Natalia was relieved when she didn’t take the time to tease them this time. Instead, she retreated back behind the counter and watched them in an incredibly unsubtle manner, and Natalia tried her best to ignore her. A silence had fallen upon the table again as they both picked at their food, and Natalia barely fought back the urge to scream, but luckily Marty broke it this time.

“Natalia…I’m sorry if I, you know, made you uncomfortable by saying this is a date.” Marty worried his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes slowly met hers. “Actually, to be perfectly honest with you…I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now.”

“Oh, it’s cool, I’m not-Wait, what?”

Natalia’s jaw dropped, and it took her a moment to process what he had just said. Marty…wanted to go on a date with her all along? Her heart leapt into her throat as butterflies took flight within her gut, and she almost swooned when Marty laughed and a sheepish smile crossed his face.

“Ah, yeah…This isn’t exactly how I planned on it happening, though…but I guess this is what I get for taking so long to work up the courage…”

After Natalia managed to swallow past the lump that had formed in her throat, she squeaked out: “R-Really? You…were gonna ask me out?”

Marty nodded and rubbed at his arms, a frown crossing his face as he stared down at the table. “I’ve wanted to for a while, but between the election and the, er, malcontent trials, I was worried that I missed my chance…”

“Wow…” Natalia couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but oh boy was she happy about it! “I’m kinda surprised. From how much time you spent here at the diner, I thought you had a crush on Sophia.”

“Oh, darn it!” Marty cringed and smacked his forehead, causing Natalia to giggle. “I knew that I accidentally friendzoned you!”

Natalia laughed and boldly reached across the table to cover Marty’s hand with hers. “Well, I’m really glad that it wasn’t on purpose.”

Marty’s face flushed a cute, deep shade of red, and the smile that crossed his face as he laced their fingers together made Natalia’s heart skip a beat. “Yeah…me too.”

Now that she knew that their feelings were mutual, Natalia was over the moon, and she enjoyed the rest of their dinner, so much so that Sophia’s teasing wasn’t annoying in the slightest, especially since it kept that cute blush on Marty’s face the entire time.

After they had finished their dinner, Natalia desperately did not want the night to end, so she dragged Marty off to the bar. He ordered spiked hot chocolates for them to go, as Natalia was already annoyed by Damon’s unsubtle innuendos and the way-too-nosy looks they were getting from the other patrons.

Instead, they walked along the beach together, hand-in-hand, until they crossed the bridge and reached the more secluded shore. They sat in the sand, watching the sunset over the horizon until night fell and the sky was lit up by countless stars and the ethereal glow of the moon.

“It’s really pretty here tonight,” Natalia said before taking a sip of her drink, and she let out a content hum as the combination of chocolate and vodka warmed her to the core.

“It is…but not as pretty as you,” Marty said, and Natalia snorted to try and keep herself from laughing, but she failed spectacularly.

“God, that was so cheesy, Marty,” Natalia wheezed as she tried to catch her breath.

Marty cringed and shook his head. “Yeah…that was bad, even for me.”

Natalia’s laughter dissolved into giggles, and she looked up at the sky with a melancholy look on her face. “You know, I’m really glad I moved here. It seemed like a real gamble, moving to a tiny island to try and make a living, but for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m not suffering from a bad luck curse anymore.”

“And yet…” Natalia’s face fell and her grip tightened on her mug. “I almost ruined everything, accusing Sophia of all people of being a malcontent. She’s the last person who would want to hurt anyone here.”

“She had already been through so much hell, and I even made poor Juliet afraid of losing another parent. I know Sophia’s said that she forgives me, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself…”

Natalia’s shoulders slumped and her gaze fell down to her drink, and her eyes widened when she felt Marty’s hand cover hers that was resting next to her on the sand.

“I think you’re being a bit too hard on yourself, Natalia,” he said, giving her hand a light squeeze. “You were possessed by a wraith, right? And I think the whole town has seen how hard you’ve been working to make it up to Sophia.”

Natalia felt her cheeks flush, and a small smile crossed her face as she turned to meet Marty’s gaze. “I…guess you’re right.”

Marty let out a long sigh and downed the rest of his drink. “At least you have an excuse for what you did. Unlike me.”

The smile fell from Natalia’s face as she watched Marty set down his mug and run a hand through his hair. “I came here with the worst intentions, only thinking of myself and how to repair the damage my dad did to the Maplethorpe name.”

“The Maplethorpe name was always a heavy weight on my back, but when I started living here as Marty Emerson, I realized that I liked the people here, and that they started to like me for me, and not because of my family name.”

Marty let out a light chuckle, and a gentle warmth blossomed within Natalia’s chest as she entwined their fingers together. “I feel like, for the first time in my life, that my future is completely mine to define, for better or worse…and maybe buying a crazy horse was on the worse side.”

"I guess that makes us both a couple of hot messes, right?" Natalia giggled and Marty barked out a laugh, and he winced, gingerly rubbing a hand over the spot where he had been kicked. Natalia’s face fell, and she averted her gaze.

“Maybe I’m too quick to think that my luck curse is gone. You got hurt because of me, after all.”

“Nah, I don’t think you’re cursed at all.”

Natalia raised an eyebrow when Marty reached into his pocket, and her eyes went wide when he pulled out an awkwardly bent horseshoe. “This is that horseshoe you gave me, when you told me that they’re good luck. Amira said that it blunted the force of the kick. So, thanks for being my…cute lady luck.”

Natalia felt her cheeks heat up and she scoffed as she looked away. “But you got kicked in the first place because of me.”

“Well, if that hadn’t happened…I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now, and I think that makes me a pretty lucky man.”

“Marty…”

Natalia’s face felt like it had been set on fire, and she turned her head away from Marty and took a few deep breaths to try and calm her rapidly beating heart. When she turned her head back to him, she let out a startled squeak when she found his face close enough that her nose brushed his.

“Ah, sorry!” Marty immediately pulled away, and Natalia internally cursed at her knee-jerk reaction. “It’s just…you look really pretty tonight, Natalia. Er, n-not that you don’t all the time but, uh, you’re just…extra pretty…”

Natalia shook her head a few times. “I-It’s okay, you just startled me is all…”

“O-Oh, good,” Marty’s grip tightened on her hand as he leaned slightly towards her again, “So, can I…kiss you?”

Natalia answered his question by closing the distance between them and pressing her lips to his. It was his turn to let out a startled squeak, and Natalia grabbed him by the shirt with her free hand to keep him in place.

‘Oh my God, I’m kissing him…’ was the only thought that pushed its way through the fog that had enveloped Natalia’s mind. This was a bold move for her, but she blamed that on the little bit of liquid courage that was currently pulsing through her veins. Marty seemed a bit stunned at first, but he recovered and tilted his head, deepening the kiss as he lifted up a hand to cup Natalia’s face. She felt him trembling slightly, so she placed her hand over his and broke the kiss.

“Ah, you okay, Marty?”

He bit his lip and averted his gaze, and Natalia frowned, but patiently waited until his eyes met hers again. “Er, it’s just…I’m not really good at this whole…kissing thing.”

A mischievous grin crossed Natalia’s face as she snaked her arms around his neck. “Well, you know what they say: practice makes perfect.”

He blinked owlishly at her, before chuckling softly. He lifted both hands to Natalia’s face, his fingers gently brushing the hair from her face before cupping her cheeks.

“Well…I might need a lot of practice.”

Natalia grinned and leaned up, her lips brushing his as she spoke:

“Good.”

With that, she kissed him again, and their intimate embrace continued until they both had to part to catch their breaths. Natalia giggled at the goofy grin that was plastered on Marty’s face, and he gave his head a quick shake and let out a low whistle.

“I just…wow, I didn’t think my night would end like this…but I’m really happy it did.”

Natalia frowned. Well, she certainly didn’t want this night to end anytime soon, but eventually the heat from their embrace wore off and the brisk night air chased them away from the beach. They walked back to Natalia’s place, hand-in-hand, and they were standing in the forge all too soon.

“Tonight was…really great, Marty. Pretty awesome, actually,” Natalia said as she closed the large forge doors behind them to keep the cold at bay. “Thanks for the dinner and drinks.”

Marty smiled, and when he held out his arms, she practically jumped into his arms and relished in the warmth of his embrace. She was careful not to squeeze him too tight due to his injury, and he said, “Yeah, even though the day had a rocky start, I had a great time with you too, Natalia. I’d really like to-Achoo!”

Natalia’s face scrunched up and she placed her hands on her hips. “Marty, are you sure you’re not getting sick?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said with a nonchalant wave of his hand, “I guess I can tell you the real reason I’ve been sneezing now.”

“Go on…”

“I wanted to give you a nice fall bouquet when I asked you out, and, er, I’m allergic to tiger lilies…”

Natalia sighed and shook her head. “That’s really sweet, Marty…but also silly. Don’t make yourself sick because of me.”

“Er, right, sorry…But, I’d still like to give it to you, so I’ll bring them on our next date.”

Marty chuckled, and his face flushed when Natalia leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek. An awkward silence fell between them, but Natalia could feel a palpable tension in the air that made her feel like Marty didn’t want this night to end yet either.

“Hey, do you want to…come in for a drink?” Natalia said, giggling as took Marty’s hand, and he smiled as he entwined their fingers together, his face flushing a cute shade of red.

“I guess I can stay for one…” Marty barely got the words out before he was yanked into Natalia’s arms after she had opened the door, and they stumbled inside.

He didn’t go home until the next morning, and not a drink was had by either of them.

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

.

[soundbulb]

watched a video about how rust isn't an antihero he's just a hero, and right away the guy making it completely misunderstands the definition of antihero he reads out. antiheros aren't labelled antiheros because they're bad people, they're labelled antiheros because they're a response to moralist midcentury writing trends. good deeds done by upstanding superman types. the noir style protagonist who did illegal things to solve a case (like rust), had illicit affairs with what my grandmother would call fast women, and jaded personas (like rust) was a cultural response to Great Men type heros, who paused after their good deeds and recited godly behavior to you. "antihero" doesn't mean bad person, it literally just means they have the moral ambiguity of a regular human being. they're not a moralizing character. they're not righteous. people sometimes forget that christianity has been one of the biggest influences, and oppressor, of our greenlit stories and many writing trends in televisions cohered to parable story telling. not all by any stretch, but enough. doing drugs, doing illegal things to solve the case, and being outwardly pessimistic, but also being the person to do good despite never changing to a more pious path make an antihero. it literally just means a character who does good things, but doesn't adhere to conservative morals. that is rust cohle. you can use the evangelical grandmother litmus. if she'd pearl clutch seeing it, than you're looking at an antihero.

marty is a kind of subversion of that more normal hero type. he believes Superman Christian beliefs, he's got a wife and two daughters, he comes off as that kind of upstanding good guy, here to stop the bad guys. he's even tall and blonde with a square jaw, very all american. then we see that he cheats on his wife with women half his age, slaps his daughters and calls them degrading names, and his heroic act really only exists in the lie him and rust contrive. while no one would argue with him shooting ledoux, it's not exactly a heroic act. he shoots him in the back of the head while he's handcuffed and subdued. in reality marty uses his station as a cop to assault lisa and the man she's with, and get away with it, he does the same to follow and harass maggie at work, and he can also kill with impunity for the same reason. this is how he kills ledoux, making it not a heroic act, but simply a desire to kill which will see no retribution. most of us don't exactly see killing a pedophile as murder though, we'd probably see it more in the vein of someone picking off a rabid coyote.

there's this really interesting throughline in that first season about obsession. it stands out in rust's "you're obsessive too, just not about the job" and "life's just long enough to get good at one thing, be careful what that is" (I'm paraphrasing, I don't remember the exact quotes). and then theriot's entire existence in the show also feels like the heart of the story itself. him and rust are obsessed with the same mystery, and it feels to them like it's using them, consuming them, but they let it. but there's this interesting implication about why people aren't what they want to be. that first season seems to make it clear that "good people" doesn't exist as a real categorization that makes sense for human beings. mostly it's preoccupied with "good men", but as we come across all these people who've been beaten and broken by whatever mystery they live within, it's clear that goodness and badness aren't really...relevant to them. in this way the heroism exists in our capacity for illusion as rust puts it -- the lie rust and marty tell about saving that little girl, which they did do, just not like that; the many lies marty tells himself about how men are, how women are, what family is, what good men are, his bullshit little anecdote about boundaries while we watch him beat down lisa's door. there's no singular thing it points to that derails this illusion from reality, but among the many things seems to be this capacity for obsession. humankind is a particularly obsessive animal, one that fantasizes about being an icon, like a hero, or a self. but it's our capacity for obsession that doesn't allow this -- when rust is describing his process for getting confessions, this too is all about recognizing the desire for selfhood in others, but how it's undermined by obsession. obsession in american culture is typically derided as sin, and you can definitely see that script play out in his box confessions. drugs, fetish, self mythology, and control are the examples we get; the man that has to masturbate on people's clothes; the man who murders two clerks while on drugs; the woman who kills her child. understanding their desire for selfhood and their desire to escape their obsessions -- their sins, crimes, fetishes -- but rust doesn't desire to escape obsession, sees it as inevitable. the capacity for illusion is also inevitable in the same way, but rust seems to have a different approach to this, believing recognition of it can somehow keep you from filling out that capacity. this is evidently not the case, considering rust's capacity for illusion is in fact just as central and guiding to him as his capacity for obsession.

anyway, if they shoot opiates on screen, they are in fact an antihero.

[thewertsearch]

TG: this whole operation is strung together with stable time loops TG: no timeline offshoots cause thats when daves start dying and that isnt no good for nobody EB: daves, plural? TG: yeah

Time sounds like a cool aspect, but Homestuck's time travelers have to contend with some pretty brutal restrictions. Marty McFly had a tough job, trying to fix his timeline - but if you break a timeline in Homestuck, you can't un-doom it. You're screwed.

TG: thats how stable time loops work shit takes a lot of planning and precise choreography TG: ive got some help though EB: help? EB: sounds like you have been talkin' to some trolls! TG: yeah

It could be Terezi, but this isn't her Aspect. Has Aradia finally decided to make a move?

EB: so what is the future like? [...] TG: oh you know TG: noirs outta control TG: rose is crazy jades crazier and youre TG: well youre you

As expected, Dave is trying to avoid spoilers, and none of this is really new information.

...that said, I'm noting that Dave paused very slightly before mentioning John. We've been worried about Rose and Jade for a while now, but maybe they're not the only ones we need to keep an eye on.

We don't yet know his role in the Scratch plan, except that it's a pivotal one. What's he doing on LOHAC, right before the end?

EB: i have a whole boonbuck now. [...] EB: tell me what you want with it! TG: im working the system here TG: using time loops to manipulate the incipispheres financial sector TG: making a goddamn killing in the lohacse EB: lohacse? TG: lohac stock exchange

Oh my god, is this his Quest?

That's too perfect. This sounds like the kind of quest Dave would design himself, if you told him to craft a Time-themed Sburb objective.

EB: your unpleasant face is what kicks ass!

"Your face kicks ass!" - John Egbert, known heterosexual.

TG: egbert stfu and give me your goddamn boonbuck j3gus fuck

I wonder - does Dave know the meme he stole from Terezi originally came from himself? Even now, he's still inheriting resources from Future Dave.

TG: dont do the vriska thing ok TG: shes messed up we talked about this TG: or will talk

I was initially confused about why Dave would tell John not to do something - after all, if John is going to do it in the Alpha, Dave can't stop him.

But maybe the Alpha required Dave to warn John, knowing he'll be ignored. :(

[ringoandolive]

Michael J Fox not being jaded and resentful for being known for two roles he played in the 80s and just being appreciative of them is actually really nice. Sooo many actors, like a startling amount, would've just been like fuck Alex, fuck Marty! Let it go! But instead of that he's like no those two roles (+Louis Canning) meant the most to me, and it's just very nice to see

[futurama]

hello...

[ejzah]

A/N: Deeks having to shoot his dad has been on my mind recently. So, here’s this not-quite-a-fic.

***

Let’s Leave it in the Past

They don’t talk about it.

In the immediate aftermath of the shooting, Roberta apologizes profusely. She cries as she tells him it’s all her fault, he shouldn’t have had to shoot his own father, she’s sorry she was a coward. Deeks doesn’t blame her. In fact, if he could, he’d do whatever necessary to stop his mom’s pain. That doesn’t seem within his abilities as an eleven year old, so he just assures he’s fine and glad his dad is gone.

Once Deeks’ dad is sentenced and in jail, the case finally closed, they settle into a tiny rented house. It isn’t much, but it is a chance to start over. So, they move in what furniture they can, fix up Deeks’ tiny room with discount wallpaper and the small collection of belongings that survived his dad’s violence.

Beneath it all, Deeks worries that there’s something truly wrong with him. The kids at school give him weird looks and he hears his teachers whispering about him. A few treat him like he’s dangerous, and seem to be waiting for him to mess up.

By the time he reaches high school, Deeks has developed his coping methods. He talks more than he should, charms when he can, and jokes when he can’t. He becomes a master at concealing his lingering guilt from shooting his father, and a protector of those who can’t defend themselves.

He fears himself sometimes when his rage takes over. Usually he’s stopping something terrible from happening, but he wonders if one day he’ll follow in his father’s footsteps.

He knows his mom worries. She worries about the trouble he’s gotten into with Ray. She worries that he won’t get accepted into a good college. She worries that the past will follow him for the rest of his life.

Even so they don’t talk. They make vague references to the past and mistakes, but they never address the abuse or the shooting directly.

Deeks studies law to fight against people like his dad, which only leaves him jaded. His mom worries all the more, becoming more erratic as he becomes a cop, then a detective, and blurs the line between justice and vengeance.

It isn’t until Deeks is talking to Roberta from behind metal bars, that they finally speak about it again. Ironically, he’s being charged for the murder of a man who did even more unspeakable things than Gordon Brandel ever dreamed of.

“I let you down, Marty,” she tells him. Because a prison filled with his colleagues and enemies is the perfect place for this conversation.

He tries to play it off, like he always has, and like his mom has always let him. This time though, she doesn’t play along.

“You want to have this conversation?” he asks, and she nods. Maybe it’s his exhaustion, or the bleak circumstances, but he doesn’t fight her.

It’s hardly the heart-to-heart he’s always wanted.

Maybe there is something wrong with him. Because the majority of Jo’s guilt is gone. He still hates remembering those moment, but he doesn’t hate himself. He certainly doesn’t regret it.

“The only person to blame for what happened to dad, is dad. And I can’t tell you how long it took me to realize that.”

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance to really talk it out once and for all since Whiting picks the perfect moment to walk in.

He’s said his the important though, so he can only hope his mom takes it to heart.

Because, they don’t talk about it.

***

A/N: I know Deeks and Roberta do talk about his dad briefly in 14x05, but she is very reluctant. As she says “I don’t like to dwell on my past”.

[sincerelymalfoyy]

Thank you for the tag! @schmem14

5 Comfort Characters (In no particular order)

Rules: 5 comfort characters, 5 tags

1. Morticia Addams (The Addams Family)

2. Marty McFly (Back to the Future)

3. Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

4. Jade West (Victorious)

5. Randall “Pink” Floyd (Dazed and Confused)

Tagging @wickermayne @sobsinashell @hjgmilf @ttheonottsgf @rinezhavenkitay if you wanna participate! :)

[littletroubledgrrrl]

A moron on Youtube claims the Dollhouse from TNA are ugly--especially the Asian and black one, don't have a good photograph and look like velociraptors.

[eriquin]

The Prophetic D&D Game, Part 5

Since ao3 is down and I'm bored, I might as well post the next part of this, too. I figured out where it's going but it'll take a while to get there.

(master post)

Part 5:

It was a full month later before they had a player miss a Hellfire meeting. Jeff had an orthodontist appointment after school, getting his new braces adjusted, and wouldn’t be able to make it. So Eddie put away his Cult of Vecna notes and set out the character sheets for the mystery game instead.

“Looks like we’ll be delving deeper into the murder of Lady Grace,” he said. “I leave it up to you all. Do you wish to continue playing the characters you played before, or trade around for new ones. Maybe give Grant a chance to read through them all?”

“No way,” Mike said, grabbing at Joe’s character sheet. “It’s paladin time.” 

“Dude, you were just saying how he’s the worst paladin,” said Dustin.

“The worst paladin is still better than the best bard,” Mike said. “Oh, look at me. I’m so special. I’ve got a little lute and druid spells.” 

Dustin whipped off his hat and smacked Mike with it. Gareth had to put himself between the two of them and use his elbows to keep them apart. 

Eddie leaned back in his throne and grinned at the chaos. “I take it you’re going to continue to play Maya, Gare-bear?” he asked.

“Yeah, probably,” Gareth said. He got an evil grin on his face. “Unless you have a character sheet for Quinn hiding back there.” 

The smile disappeared from Eddie’s face. “No,” he said flatly.

“Aww, don’t want anyone playing your little Marty Stu?” Gareth teased. 

“What’s a Marty Stu?” Lucas asked. He was looking between the character sheets for Sadie and Caleb, with Grant leaning over his shoulder to read them as well. 

“It’s a Star Trek thing,” Dustin said with a pile of false confidence. “But it’s called a Mary Sue, see—” 

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie put his head in his hands. “Henderson, stop talking. All of you, pick some characters. Quinn is not playable. Gareth, if I hear the joke that I know you’re about to make come out of your mouth, I will eat your favorite D20. I think we all know how that will end.” 

Gareth gasped and snatched up the speckled green and black die from the table, clutching it to his hard. “Not Miss Jade the Faithful! You wouldn’t.” 

“You told me to get better threats. I have. Maybe I won’t eat her. Maybe I’ll just chew on her for a while.” 

While Gareth cradled his die protectively and Eddie made disgusting pretend eating noises at him, the rest of them picked out character sheets. Dustin and Lucas both decided to stick with their characters from the previous run, and Grant wanted to try playing Natalia. 

“Great,” Eddie said. “Let’s get started. First things first, we left off with Quinn agreeing to help you figure out who killed Lady Grace. But there’s the downside of him being actively hunted by the town guard. What do you do?” 

The players, minus Grant, had a quick discussion. “The alchemist’s house is still safe, right?” Dustin asked. “I mean, Caleb and Joe both made sure to clear out the guard’s records about it, didn’t they?” 

“They think they did,” Eddie said. He grinned. “Do you trust that it worked?” 

The freshmen looked alarmed at this information, but Gareth rolled his eyes. He leaned over to whisper something to Mike, and then to Dustin, and then gestured for Dustin to tell it to Lucas. After their game of telephone, they all looked at each other and nodded. Dustin spoke up again. “We’re going to tell Quinn to stay here, where it’s safe, while we head back to town.” 

Eddie paused for a moment to let them get nervous, and then nodded. “All right, then. Moving on.” He steered them back towards town, and they decided among themselves to go back by a different gate. This was well within his plans, so he rolled some dice to pick which character noticed it first. “Dustin, as you get back to the city, Gaten is almost bowled over by a trio of guards on horseback. They don’t notice him at all—”

“Well, he is short,” Mike said. 

Eddie glared at him. Mike shrunk back and grimaced. Eddie continued his description of the scene. “They keep riding through the crowd towards the southern quarter.”

“Oh!” Dustin said. “Maybe they have a lead. We should follow them.” 

The rest of the party agreed, and Eddie led them through a series of backroads that dumped them out of the southern gate of the city. He passed a note to Grant, then described the scene. The guards were blocking all passage along the southern road and keeping the crowd back. The party could see Natalia, Grant's character, at the edge of the crowd. They quickly absorbed her into the group and found a quiet spot to catch up on everything. Grant had extra notes about what Natalia had been doing up to this point, and he filled the party in about what he’d witnessed. 

“We were investigating the murder of Lady Grace,” he said, “when Logan, the other ranger with me, disappeared. The guards found his body a few hours later.” 

“Why are the rangers investigating a murder?” Gareth asked. 

Grant barely blinked at this. “Professional interest,” he said flatly. 

“How come you didn’t track Logan down when he disappeared?” Gareth asked. “Isn’t that what rangers do?”

“How do you think I got here?” Grant said. He gestured with his hand as if they were standing there in person. “He’s on the main road outside the southern entrance to town. We were by the main wall of the thieves’ quarter, which is in the—” He snapped his fingers and glanced at Eddie, prompting him for a direction.

“In the east,” Eddie said.

“I tracked him through the eastern woods to get here. The guards just found him on the road.” Grant let a smug smile creep onto his face. “I know what I’m doing.” 

Gareth held his hands up in supplication. “Okay, I yield. Do you want to fill us in on what you found by tracking?” 

Grant looked at Eddie, who pulled out his stack of note cards. “Roll against your wis,” Eddie said as he started to write. Grant rolled well, and he wrote out a little more information than he’d planned. He passed it over to him and went back to watching the game unfold. 

[mitchipedia]

Cory Doctorow’s “Red Team Blues” is the most exciting technothriller about a 67-year-old accountant you’ll read this year 📚

“Red Team Blues,” the latest novel by the prolific Cory Doctorow, is a gripping technothriller about billion-dollar cryptocurrency crime. I don’t often encounter fiction that pulls me in as hard as “Red Team Blues” anymore—I’m a jaded reader. But “Red Team Blues” kept me up well past my bedtime on more than one night, and I staggered around bleary-eyed at work the next day. I should send Cory a bill.

“Red Team Blues” is a departure for Cory. His fiction is mostly near-future science fiction. “Red Team Blues” is an old-fashioned private-eye novel crossed with a technothriller.

Also, Cory’s biggest novels are mostly about people in their teens and 20s coming of age. The hero of “Red Team Blues,” Marty Hench, is an old man. He’s 67 years old, a private investigator doing one last gig before retiring.

Marty is a big reason why “Red Team Blues” is compelling. He’s the first-person narrator of the book, and he speaks to the reader like an old friend, telling his story over fine scotch in a comfortable dive bar.

Marty is a callback to the classic detectives of the mid-20th Century. Like his antecedents, Marty Hench is a lone wolf. He has no wife and no family, though he has many friends. And he likes it that way.

Marty’s home is a luxury tour bus, called the Unsalted Hash, which he accepted as payment from a former client, an aging rock star. Marty drives his home wherever work or his fancy takes him.

One more thing about Marty: He’s an accountant. A forensic accountant to be precise. He investigates financial crime. And there’s plenty of that in Silicon Valley, where Marty often parks his bus.

At the beginning of “Red Team Blues,” Marty is called on by an old friend, who became a billionaire late in life after decades of pursuing a passion for fundamental crypto technology. An important secret relating to that technology has been stolen. It’s worth billions of dollars and could be used to sabotage global financial empires. Marty is hired to recover the secret—discreetly.

Marty does the job, but in so doing he gets on the wrong side of wealthy financiers who operate at a rarified multi-billionaire level where there’s no significant difference between legitimate business and criminal cartels. The financiers have already tortured a few people to death to get at the valuable crypto secret—and now they’re after Marty.

Through the course of “Red Team Blues,” Marty takes us on a tour of present-day Silicon Valley, where the early idealistic dreams of using technology to transform the world and make it better have given way to sheer greed. Marty moves from the luxury high-rises of the super-wealthy to homeless encampments just a short way away.

The setting of “Red Team Blues” reminds me of the 1930s Los Angeles of classic noir yarns, such as the novels of Raymond Chandler and James Ellroy, as well as the movie “Chinatown.” The LA of those stories is still new, but already corrupt and foul under the glittering surface. The Silicon Valley of “Red Team Blues” is like that.

Cory writes about the similarities and differences between “Red Team Blues” and classic noir detectives in this essay: Silicon Valley Noir

Aging is another theme of “Red Team Blues.” Marty Hench and the people he interacts with are mostly in their late 60s and 70s. They’ve been wildly successful professionally, but their careers are closing. They’re thinking about their legacy, and what they’re going to do next.

Marty is physically fit, but at 67 he’s not going to win any brawls or firefights—not when he’s up against pros, anyway. He thwarts the villains with his wits, not his fists or guns.

Like the heroes of classic detective stories, Marty attracts the ladies. He likes beautiful, intelligent women and they like him back. But here’s a thing that I like about “Red Team Blues:” The relationships are age-appropriate.

In detective stories about aging heroes, the heroes are often men in late middle age, and the women are at least 30 years younger. I find that kind of thing uncomfortable reading, because the writers are themselves often aging men, like their heroes. Reading those books can feel like the writers are sharing their own fetishes and insecurities in ways I would just as soon not be privy to. In “Red Team Blues,” Marty becomes involved with several beautiful, sexy women, and all but one of them are his age.

Additionally, Marty exhibits a refractory period that would be admirable in a man 20 years younger.

One of Cory’s great talents as a fiction writer is that he mixes compelling characterization with social issues. His “Little Brother” novels are about surveillance run amok. “Walkaway” and “Pirate Cinema” are about capitalism turned predatory. Like those novels, “Red Team Blues” is about social justice, but Cory never loses sight of the characters and the readers‘ need to care about the characters as people.

“Red Team Blues” is the first novel of a series. Chronologically, the series is unusual, in that each novel takes place before the previous novel. In “Red Team Blues,” we’re introduced to Marty at the end of his career; in follow-up novels in the pipeline, we’ll meet Marty at the midpoint of his career, and then at the very beginning, when both Marty and Silicon Valley are young.

And now for a brief tangent

Novelists who write series about the same characters over a course of decades have to decide what to do about the aging process.

Arthur Conan Doyle wrote over the course of decades about Holmes and Watson, and aged them more or less in real time. They are young men in their first adventure and old men in their last. Michael Chabon’s “The Final Solution” picks up Holmes’ life as a centenarian, with England on the verge of World War II; because of copyright, Chabon’s detective hero is never named, but he’s a retired detective, once famous, who now lives in the countryside and keeps bees.

Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin’s ages remain unchanged throughout the series. Nero is 52 and Archie is early 30s. In the first book, “Fer-de-Lance,” published 1934, they’re celebrating the end of Prohibition. In the final novel, “A Family Affair,” published 1975, Nero Wolfe, still 56 years old, is obsessed with the Watergate scandal.

In the first Robert B. Parker Spenser novel, “The Godwulf Manuscript,” published 1973, the detective gives his age as 37. He’s a Korean War veteran, an ex-cop who boxed professionally as a young man, and once fought Jersey Joe Wollcott. Spenser ages throughout the series, but slower than real-time; a fan developed a complex, tongue-in-cheek formula for determining Spenser’s age in any of the novels, and determines that in the 2006 “Dream Girl,” Spenser is 49-1/2, aging at a rate of slightly less than 1 year for every two that pass in the real universe. But Spenser’s aging isn’t linear; in some of the middle novels he talks about needing glasses to read and being less tolerant of coffee, and then Parker gives that up. Parker died in 2010, but Spenser lives on, in a series of novels written by Ace Atkins. (I’ve read a few—they’re good.)

And of course “MASH” was on the air for 11 years, while the Korean War lasted only three. The characters aged with the show. They had to; back then there was no CGI magic to make the actors appear younger.

I’m not aware of any series that runs backward in time, like the Marty Hench novels. So Cory scores a first there.

Disclaimer

Those of you who follow me here regularly know I’m a huge fan of Cory’s work; I link to him here often, sometimes once or twice a day. He’s also an old friend. But despite my flagrant conflict of interest, you can trust this review. If I didn’t like this book, I just wouldn’t say anything about it.

This is not a courtesy I extend solely to friends. I don’t like giving negative reviews of creative work anymore. Even if a book or movie is a stinker, a lot of people worked hard on it. Let somebody else do the job of steering you away from bad work; I’d rather shine a light on work you might enjoy.

Also, I’m fortunate enough to be friends with a few successful science fiction and fantasy writers, and I’ve found that how I feel about them personally has no bearing on how I feel about their work. I can like a writer just fine as a person, and not care for their work. In fact, that’s usually the case with my writer friends. And I can think of at least one writer whose work I’m very fond of, but who is unpleasant in person. Cory is a rarity for me—a writer who I like a great deal both as a writer and a person. I sincerely enjoyed “Red Team Blues,” and I hope you do too.