#WHICH CONVENIENTLY DOESN’T HAVE AMELIA

[vendriin]

Vampire Elder Amelia -

Underworld: Evolution (2006)

[tgmsunmontue]

To wake, perchance to dream WIP 2/?

Hangster - Jake wakes up ~13 years in the future and thinks he has amnesia. Instead it's a glimpse of what his life could be. When he wakes up right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment he's going to try his damndest to make that future come true...

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

              Amelia, Alleisha and James all leave in a flurry of bags and towels and Jake just stands by and watches, uses Brandy as a convenient excuse to not help with last-minute sock and shoe hunting, although there’s a basket right by the front door filled with socks and shoes. Bradley is waving them off and then shutting the door behind himself, looking at Jake with soft eyes and he smiles tentatively. Awkward as it might be, he also knows that he has to do it. He clearly loves Bradshaw, married him and lives with him and he doesn’t want to fuck any of that up. Or freak Bradshaw out or worry him. So amnesia theory it is, because it definitely seems like the most plausible.

              “You okay?” Bradshaw asks, head tilted like he’s trying to figure something out and Jake feels caught out.

              “Uh…” Jake delays, because he doesn’t know how to begin the conversation.

              “Thea hasn’t left your side all morning.”

              Jake looks down at the chocolate labrador and wonders why her not leaving his side would be a thing. Maybe the dog is Bradshaw’s?

              “Um. Okay, I don’t want to freak you out. I feel fine. But, uh, I’ve lost a whole bunch of memories.”

              Immediately Bradshaw’s expression has gone from soft to concerned, but it’s not bad, he’s stepping into Jake’s space and tipping his head back to look into his eyes, hand resting on Jake’s hip that isn’t holding Brandy.

              “Stop it! I didn’t hit my head!” Jake says, batting his hand away.

              “You just said you lost a whole bunch of memories! How many are you talking? You might not remember hitting your head. You’ve been fine this morning.”

              “Uh. Well. I’ve been faking it.”

              Bradshaw’s eyebrows go up and his lips twitch in amusement and Jake can’t help but roll his eyes, because the fact that even faced with a husband that is claiming to have some memory issues he’s clearly interpreting Jake’s words sexually. Part of him likes it. A lot.

              “Stop it. Not like that. I don’t remember… us. Uh. Or anything from the last ten years or so I guess? Maybe longer?” Jake hazards, because he knows it’s longer but he has no idea of how long exactly. “I think I have amnesia?”

              He doesn’t get the response he expects, which is a laugh, or even questions asking him why he thinks he has amnesia. He doesn’t get anything like that, instead Bradshaw has gone pale, mouth dropped open, pulled away slightly and looking at him wide-eyed, like he’s looking at a stranger and Jake hates it. Hates that Bradshaw has put distance between them, it’s the last thing he wants and he reaches a hand out and feels the tension in his gut uncoil when Bradshaw laces their fingers together.

              “Ten years. Holy shit. You were right.”

              “I mean, I like hearing that I’m right, but I usually know what I’m right about. And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

              “I don’t think you have amnesia, however I don’t think you’re going to like the explanation I do have… it’s pretty fucking nuts.”

              “Okay…” Jake says, because he’d thought amnesia was already a pretty wild theory. The time jump is the one in his back pocket, but it sounds like Bradshaw has another one, and he seems almost certain.

              “Holy shit, no wonder Thea won’t leave your side, you must be freaking out.”

              “I mean… I’m not not freaking out. But these are Javy’s kids. I remember Javy. But why would my dog not want to hang out with me?”

              “She’s mine. And she’s a therapy dog. Good for anxiety.”

              “You need a therapy dog?” Jake asks and Bradshaw is shaking his head.

              “No. Well, sometimes. I’m a therapist. She helps a lot people I talk to.”

              “Oh.”

              “Holy shit Jake. Ten years. Ten years exactly.”

              “Uh. No. I’m pretty sure I’ve lost more time then that. You said you had an explanation?”

              “Yeah, let’s go and sit down. Let Brandy crawl around and tire herself out before nap time.”

              He follows silently, immensely relieved that this is so far going to well. Bradshaw shakes out a blanket thing, brightly colored with things attached to it and places Brandy in the center on her stomach, where she becomes entranced by her own reflection in a mirror that is somehow in the blanket. Wild. He let’s Bradshaw sit close, so close he pulls Jake into his arms so he’s effectively spooning him, chin hooked over his shoulder. It’s nice.

              “Okay. So. Ten years ago. Today. When Coyote and Nix got married, at their wedding, you told me about this… dream you had. You talked about it like it was a dream, like something you wanted, or missed. So you tell me about this dream that happens on the tenth anniversary of Coyote and Nix’s wedding. I remember thinking that was oddly specific for a dream…”

              Jake swallows, the time jump or alternate universe theory suddenly slamming into him and he’s glad Bradshaw is holding him, arms warm and comforting, holding him together because he feels like he’s going to shake apart.

              “You said in your dream we were happily married, the we’d be helping raise three amazing kids while our best friends are deployed. But that you wake up in this dream and you don’t remember it, that you’ve just been stationed in Japan and suddenly you wake up in bed with me…”

              Jake doesn’t know if he’s even breathing, his entire body feels shaky and he nods frantically, Thea is whining at his feet and he sucks in a deep breath with a gasp.

              “I was in Japan.”

              “Holy shit…”

              “Yeah,” Jake agrees, because he doesn’t know what else to say or do. Bradshaw somehow seems to know more about what is happening despite it all happening to Jake, which seems brutally unfair.

              “Oh my god Jake… You…”

              He looks up from his clasped hands, his vain attempt to try and stop them shaking. Bradshaw is shifting from behind him, moving away and Jake wants to say something, complain about it. Then he looks at Bradshaw, sees his lip trembling and he looks close to tears.

              “What?” Jake asks, and then he’s suddenly got a lap full of Bradley Bradshaw, who is straddling his thighs, taking Jake’s face in his hands gently, looking him in the eyes, fingers stroking over Jake’s brow ridge, down his cheeks.

              “I love you Jake… so much. Thank you, for being so patient with me, and kicking my ass when I needed it, and being with me even when it was hard.”

              What the actual fuck?

              Actually.

              “What the fuck?”

              “You knew. All along. You knew the whole time what we could be and you fucking fought for it, even when you had to fight me. Oh my god…”

              “Yeah, I still don’t know what you’re really talking about.”

              “That’s okay. It’s okay. I’m pretty sure this is a temporary thing. Just today maybe, or the weekend. You didn’t actually specify how long it was. I think… I think if you’re still feeling weird on Monday morning I will one hundred percent take you to Urgent Care. But, well, it’s been ten years and I think I can manage a weekend of looking after my husband.”

              “You know I have no idea what you’re talking about right?”

              “Yeah, it actually makes a nice change.”

              Jake laughs, shoves him a little and then Bradshaw is kissing him, mouth just slotting perfectly over his and it’s been a while since he’s been with anyone, and he kisses back, lets himself touch, hands seeking bare skin under Bradshaw’s top, and he’s pulling back and Jake tries to follow his mouth.

              “Oh my god, you don’t remember that we’re married.”

              “I remember enough to have sex. And I am not disappointed about the married part.”

              Bradshaw laughs, and Jake is pretty sure he’s currently being mentally undressed.

              “Glad to know you’re not disappointed. That would suck. And we can’t do more than make out until she goes down for her morning nap. And Amelia will be back with the others in time for lunch.”

              “So we have slim windows of opportunity is what I’m hearing?”

              “Well, yes. Very slim. But Javy and Nix are picking the kids up this afternoon, so we do have all night. And maybe all day tomorrow. And the rest of our lives together of course.”

              “Of course…” Jake says, and he can’t believe it.

…           …           …

              They do not end up doing anything more than kiss and make out, Bradshaw pressing him against vertical surfaces in passing as he runs around doing washing and tidying and cleaning when Brandy goes down for her nap. It feels alarmingly domestic and he does a double take every time he catches his reflection, not expecting the addition of wrinkles or greys. Jake decides to take Thea for a walk, which is not only because he needs some time to just process but it’s definitely a bonus. He’s not convinced that he’s going to somehow slip back into his own time, but if he does then he should probably be prepared for a Bradshaw that is not married to him. Not only isn’t married to him but sort of doesn’t like him either.

              He wonders how they somehow get from there to here.

              He wonders who proposes.

              Where they get married.

              When they get married.

              He finds he doesn’t want to know every little detail, wants to live them and experience them for the first time if he does indeed get to have this.

              He gets back to the house and Bradshaw is mopping the kitchen floor and the smile he gives Jake makes him feel warm all over. Yeah. He likes this. Wants this.

              “How was it?”

              “Good. It’s a nice neighborhood.”

              “Glad you approve. You chose it.”

              “Oh.”

              “Yeah, so much more about the last thirteen years makes sense now. Here. I had a thought while you were out. We have these photo albums. Ones you insisted on making by the way. Same with the names of the kids over their beds. I feel like you were planning on making this as easy for yourself as possible. You sit right here and I’ll bring you a cup of tea.”

              Jake’s about to say he doesn’t like tea, but Bradshaw is pressing five slim books into his hands, photos and years printed on the front, 2025-2026, 2027-2028, 2029-2030, 2031-2032, 2033-2034. He opens the oldest one first and sees a more familiar version of himself smiling back, dressed in a tuxedo of all things. Then there’s a photo of Bradshaw beside him, looking younger but no less attractive and then there’s a photo of them with both Javy and Nix, and it’s a wedding photo. He starts flicking through them faster.

              A photo of mountains and scenery.

              Another photo of two hands, men’s hands, now wearing rings.

              A photo of a very sunburnt Bradshaw looking sulky. Still gorgeous.

              Jake asleep on a sofa with a baby asleep on his chest, hand splayed over the baby.

              Bradshaw with a puppy. Thea?

              Moving houses.

              For Sale signs with a big SOLD sticker covering it. This house.

              Jake covered in paint.

              Bradshaw covered in more paint.

              Graduation photos for both him and Bradshaw. Why did they go back and study?

              Some old guy who is vaguely familiar, but is holding another baby. James?

              Planes.

              Promotion photos. Holy shit he made Captain.

              Vacation photos.

              Christmas photos.

              Family photos.

              Backyard grilling photos.

              Lots of people. Lots of love.

              He closes the last book and leans over to stack them neatly on the coffee table.

              Holy shit that was a lot. He’ll look again but none of it is familiar, apart from seeing Javy thread throughout, and Bradshaw and Nix, and these three kids, and the woman he knows now is Amelia.

              “Here. Have you had a look yet?”

              He reaches for the mug of tea and takes a sip, prepared to gear himself to not pull a face at the bitter tannin taste he associates with tea. Whatever is in this mug though is not that and it’s sweet and fragrant, and he takes another sip.

              “Oh. This is nice. What is it?”

              “Chamomile, vanilla and honey…” Bradshaw says, and his eyes are going wide. “You bring me this tea, when you find out I’m not sleeping very well. I feel like I just closed a loop of something. Shit. Do you think you should be looking at those?”

              “Too late, I’ve already flicked through them. It’s 2035 then?”

              “Yeah. You make these photo books every couple of years. I never thought there was a rhyme or reason as to what you included…”

              Jake’s starting to feel overwhelmed, the idea of some future? Past? Version of himself having his life so together that he’s leaving all these clues for him to pick up and put together right now.

              “I thought it was going to be awkward. Telling you that I couldn’t remember.”

              “Well, you did tell me ten years ago that it was going to happen.”

              “You do know how crazy that sounds right?”

              Bradshaw shrugs.

              “Well, it was a passing comment at the wedding, and you were a bit drunk. Happy drunk. But you remembered telling me, because later, you’d do something, or I would, and then you’d kiss me and then say ten years like a promise. Like, it wasn’t a regular thing. Not like me telling you that you look good…”

              “I do look good.”

              “I know you do. Too good to be true. And all mine.”

              Jake grins at him, because this feels good.

              Even if he’s scared he’s somehow going to fuck it all up.

…           …           …

              He falls asleep on the sofa. Wakes up drowsy when James crawls onto him, grinning at him before laying his head on Jake’s chest and promptly falling asleep.

              “Want me to take him to his bed?” Amelia asks, her voice pitched low and Jake shakes his head, runs his hand over James’ head. He had thought he’d never have kids, never get to have these type of experiences, and yet here he is. “I’ll send Bradbrad in with food for you, he wanted to let you sleep. Think he has plans for tonight that don’t involve sleep,” Amelia says, smirking and Jake just grins, because he doesn’t care if people think he has sex with his husband. He fully intends to. Once Bradshaw stops doing fucking housework.

              Bradley comes in and hand feeds him pieces of a sandwich while James continues to nap on him. The kiss Bradley presses to his forehead is sweet and soft, but the look in his eyes is hot and not soft. It sends a little thrill of anticipation through him that he’s not being fobbed off, just delayed a little. He falls back into a doze, wakes suddenly when the weight on him shifts and James’ knee goes into his bladder and far too close to his dick for comfort. He springs up, heads to the bathroom and can hear more voices, what must have woken James, who is running towards them.

              Javy and Natasha. Nix. Javy looks the same except for a streak of grey in his hair, while he can’t really remember Natasha well enough to parse any differences, she gives him a tight hug and murmurs Bagman under her breath, like an endearment.               He holds Javy in a tight hug, glad that they’ve always been the type of friends that are physically affectionate. Gets told they’ll see them at dinner tomorrow and then the house is empty. Suddenly too silent and he looks at Bradshaw, feeling a little lost.

              “Yeah, it always takes a little bit to adjust to the sudden cessation of noise,” Bradshaw says, but he’s wrapping his arms around Jake like he knows Jake needs the comfort and closeness.

              “I really like this life.”

              “So do I. Love it even. Love you too.”

              “Going to show me how much?”

              “Yeah… going to let me?”

              “You sure there’s not another task you have to run off and go and do?” Jake asks wryly and Bradshaw looks a little embarrassed.

              “You saw right through that huh?”

              “Yeah.”

              “Well, two reasons. Good reasons. One, we’re now alone and there is zero chance of us getting interrupted. And two, well I did all of the weekend chores today, which means that we can spend all of tomorrow in bed.”

              “That sure I’ll still be around?”

              “Jake, you’re you. You might go back to your time before tomorrow, and I’ll still spend the day in bed with my husband. It’s win-win for me either way.”

…           …           …

              Jesus fucking Christ this man knows his body and knows it well. Jake cannot believe how every touch is just perfectly firm or soft, the nips of teeth just enough to drive him to a whimpering mess. His fingers are trembling with anticipation as he pushes the buttons through their holes on Bradshaw’s shirt, pushing the shirt off and he’s being undressed equally efficiently, Bradshaw’s lips placing little kisses on each new part of him that’s slowly revealed.

              “You’re so fucking gorgeous, you know that? Could watch you like this for hours…”

              “That’s a cruel and unusual punishment.”

              “Mmm, sometimes…”

              “Oh fuck…”

              “Come on…”

              It quickly becomes apparent to Jake that Bradshaw knows his body intimately and he lets himself just lean into it. Bradshaw. Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw. No. He’s definitely Bradley now. He’s funny, and attentive, and he looks at Jake like he wants to eat him up and Jake is more than okay with that, despite it being a weird fucking day, he trusts Bradley, deep in his gut, and it’s not a feeling he’s going to ignore.

              “What do you want? Your choice…”

              Jake stares, wonders what they usually do, although considering this Bradley has been with Jake for over a decade, it’s likely more than what Jake has experienced. Definitely the longest relationship he’s ever had and then it hits him.

              “Oh my god, we’re married…”

              “Yep. Married sex.”

              “Oh. Oh. I want to fuck you. Can I?”

              Bradley’s eyes go dark and he’s nodding, pushing Jake back onto the bed and Jake frowns briefly, but then Bradley is kissing up his body, straddling him and his mouth drops open, the view of Bradley’s long legs either side of him breathtaking and the entire vision is searing itself into his memory. He never wants to forget this. Their cocks are both mostly hard, despite no attention having been given to them yet and he can’t wait to get the part where it does get attention.

              “I’m going to ride you. That okay?”

              “God yes, do you think I’m going to say no?”

              The smirk Bradley gives him is amused and he reaches for his knee to give him a charley horse, but Bradley captures his wrist and shakes his head, bringing both of Jake’s wrists above his head and pressing down, his face mere inches from Jake’s, his hips grinding down with a delicious amount of pressure and Jake can’t help but push up into it.

              “Uh uh uh. You keep your hands to yourself if you’re going to try and do that. Or I’ll tie you up.”

              Jake doesn’t even know where to start with that, just shakes his head, because he wants to touch; doesn’t want to blink, doesn’t want to miss anything. Of course that’s when Bradley gets off and walks away and Jake just watches his ass, can’t even complain that he’s walking away. He’s going to enjoy getting his hands on that ass. Bradley comes back with supplies, lube and a towel and tissues, along with a bottle of water, like staying hydrated is the responsible thing to do and he guesses they truly are adults or something now. Then Bradley is back on the bed, fingering himself open, eyes steadily watching Jake and it’s weirdly intense, in a way he wasn’t expecting. Intimate too. There’s one thing he isn’t seeing though and he needs to ask.

              “I, uh, condoms?”

              “Jake… oh god… we’ve been… married … for over seven years.”

              Oh.

              “Oh. Right.”

              Jake can’t believe he gets this. This man smiling at him, his hot heat encasing his cock as he lowers himself onto Jake. This doesn’t seem like a possible future to his brain, but he’s so glad that it somehow is. Somehow. His mind is splintering and he’s wondering if they have favorite positions and things they do. Surely they must after this long together. But it’s all new to him and Bradley’s fully seated on his cock, rotating his hips in tiny increments, watching Jake intently.

              “You look like you’ve done that before…” Jake says, not quite sure what to say.

              “I’m a man of many hidden talents…”

              “Sure you are… you feel really good.”

              “So do you. Very good,” Bradley says, and again there’s that pause like he’s waiting for Jake to say something. “Just… let me take care of you okay?”

              “I’m not going to argue with you,” Jake manages, his voice breaking and the little laugh Bradley lets out makes him grin in response.

              “Makes a nice change.”

…           …           …

              He wakes up the next morning and the relief he feels at still being in bed with Bradley isn’t proportionate to the amount of time he’s spent here, but he doesn’t care. He gives into the desire to kiss him, drags his entire body along the length of Bradley’s, doesn’t bother hiding his smile as he feels Bradley shift and press back.

              “Morning…”

              “Hi,” Jake breathes, and he really wants to feel Bradley on him, in him, just to be surrounded.

              “You either slept really well, or you’re still missing a chunk of time and have forgotten we have a dog that needs to be let out…”

              “Oh, so now it’s our dog. Yesterday you were saying she was only yours…”

              “Well, you did get her for me. Weird to call a gift you got me also yours…”

              “Oh. I didn’t realize.”

              “It’s okay. But I do have to go and let her out. But I’ll be right back. You want me to bring you coffee?”

              “Yeah. Please. You’re spoiling me though… I’m not running away anywhere.”

              “I know. I just… want to remind you of all the good and amazing times we have together.”

              “And are these times limited to this bed are they?”

              “No. But it is where some of them happen.”

              “You’re so cheesy.”

              “Like fondue baby…”

              “Ugh. Why do I love you?”

              “I used to ask myself that every day. Now I just accept it as one of my truths.”

              Jake bites his lip, refuses to feel embarrassed by the open way Bradley seems to communicate, realizes that he’s married to a therapist. They probably talk about their feelings all the time. Bradley’s gone to deal with Thea, and he wonders what kind of coffee he’ll be brought, because there’s what he drinks when he’s alone, and then what he drinks when he’s… not alone.

              “Here you go,” Bradley says, and he passes Jake a coffee that definitely has creamer in it, and it smells nutty and he takes a sip. It’s not the bitter black coffee he drinks when he’s deployed, when there are dozens of people watching and ready to give shit over the slightest thing. Instead it’s sweeter and far less bitter and of course Bradley knows exactly how he prefers his coffee.

              “Thanks.”

              “Anytime. Obviously. I’m going to go for a run with Thea soon. You want to stay in bed or come with us?”

              “Oh, I am definitely coming with you.”

…           …           …

              The run isn’t long, at least not by the standard he has in his head for what he should be able to do, but he does notice that his right knee has started throbbing and he’s wincing every time his foot hits the sidewalk and he notes that Thea slows down and starts whining and god, it’s like having an emotional barometer, Bradley immediately also stopping and turning and he has to know.

              “What did I do to my knee? Why does it hurt so fucking much?”

              “Oh fuck… you’re not wearing your knee brace.”

              “Why do I need a knee brace?” Jake asks, because he doesn’t need a knee brace, he’s only just turned thirty. Except this body hasn’t. This body is mid-forties…

              “You did some soft tissue damage to the LCL and ACL about four years ago. You needed rehab for about six months. You fought to get back in the air. Shit. I should have remembered.”

              “Hey, it’s okay. You can’t remember everything. What happened?” Jake asks, and he’s imagining a bad landing from an ejection, or something equally related to work.

              “You were playing soccer on the beach.”

              “What?”

              “It’s fine, you looked very manly making the dive to kick the ball. Come on, let’s get you home.”

              The walk-slash-hobble home is slightly mortifying, but the deep throbbing pain distracts him from being too mortified. Bradley makes shushing noises and pushes him into the shower and Jake feels like grumbling, but the hot water feels nice, and Bradley is passing him some pills and a water bottle, so he swallows them down. Being looked after like this is nice, and Bradley clearly knows what his body needs, even if he doesn’t. He’s gently bullied out of the shower, Bradley ignoring his attempts to try and entice him in once the painkillers kicked in. He dries off, wonders what is going to happen next, although the pile of cushions and ice pack give him a huge clue.

              “Just lie back, let me give you a massage.”

              “Oh. Yeah. That sounds great,” Jake says, immediately shifting and allowing Bradley to shove a couple of cushions under his knee and then draping the icepack over his knee. The cold is shocking but also feels good.

              “Mmm. Thought you’d like that. Just relax and let me take care of you okay?”

              The same words he’d said last night and Jake just nods.

              “How often do I fuck up my knee then? For you to be this good at massage?”

              “I don’t need an excuse to want to touch you. We did a couples massage course a couple of years ago. You return the favor plenty.”

              “I bet I do…”

              The massage starts off clinical, his left hip and leg are tight from bearing most of the weight on the walk back home, and he lets himself relax into the warm movements of Bradley’s hands on him, but it doesn’t take long before he’s getting hard, wondering if he can make this turn into sex, eyes closed as he imagines what they could do, and now that he knows his knee is sort of fucked Bradley riding him last night makes more sense.

              “You back with me?”

              “Trust me, I never left. Just realizing why you rode me last night. Guess I don’t fuck you any other way if this is how I get with just a run…”

              “Jake…” Bradley starts, and he’s clearly holding back a laugh. “You fuck me plenty. Why do you think I’m so good at giving you massages?”

              “Oh.”

              “Oh he says,” Bradley says, and he’s clearly mocking him.

              “And what about you fucking me?” Jake challenges, because he’s not in any rush to leave the bed, they’re already naked and he’s already over half-hard. He jerks his hips to bring Bradley’s attention to it, doesn’t miss the eyeroll but gasps when Bradley simply bends over him and sucks Jake’s cock into his mouth. No warning, no gentle suggestion, just straight to it and he lets out a string of non-sensical words. What’s the fucking rush, god, so good, Bradley.

              He feels a finger brush over his hole, feels Bradley shift against him, although the sheer amount of different sensations he’s currently trying to process is overwhelming. There’s the cold of the icepack, the lingering warmth of the massage, the heat of Bradley’s mouth around his cock, the scrape of stubble against his inner thighs and against his balls and less-prickly but still bristly Bradley’s moustache brushing against his pelvis. Then there are Bradley’s hand and his chest, all touching different parts of Jake’s body.

              The press of a well lubricated finger around his hole is expected and he groan, pushes toward it, hips flexing and Bradley is clearly well practiced at stretching him out while also giving him a blowjob. When he chances a look down he can’t help the jerk of his hips at the sight. Bradley’s watching him, looking aroused and smug, like he’s somehow the reason Jake is on his back, and the annoying part is he’s correct. He’s the sole reason Jake feels as good as he does right now. Bradley is careful but firm, pulling Jake down the bed by his hips, then rearranging the pillows to keep his knee raised. He wraps Jake’s good leg around his waist, presses in slowly and surely, eyes not leaving Jake’s face.

              The first few minutes are slow. Firm still, Bradley clearly still very familiar with his body and he remembers that Bradshaw was always known for his accuracy, and apparently that’s a transferable skill, even as his speed increases, he’s nailing Jake’s prostate and his breathing starts coming in little gasps, unable to suck in large lungful’s, the air already being forced out of him.

              Bradley fucks Jake so hard his head spins. He feels himself flying apart almost too soon and Bradley picks up on it to rear back a bit, slowing things down until Jake feels a sense of shaky control. And then he keeps going, fucking him slow and deep until Jake is begging him for more. They keep going like that, Bradley drawing it out, of course he would, there’s no way he’d ever do anything else to Jake in bed. Then it feels like Bradley’s the one starting to come apart. And Jake wants that, wants it badly, reaches to palm Bradley’s face, murmuring come on, come for me, come in me in his ear, Bradley’s groans going straight to his own cock.

              He’s not sure what he expected, but whatever he thought might happen, he’s not ready for the way Bradley comes back up and kisses him, slow and dirty to match the grind of his hips, how deep Bradley feels inside of him. The way he has to break the kiss with a moan, turning away, but Bradley’s still on him, all over him, everywhere, each thrust making Jake’s eyes roll back that much further in his head. The way Bradley keeps talking to him under his breath, sweet and then filthy nothings. Want to keep you like this forever. God. Jake. You’re so fucking hot.

              It’s not long before Bradley’s movements stutter to a stop and he grinds into Jake one last time, grunting out his orgasm into Jake’s neck. Jake holds him close and clenches down and loses himself so deeply in the feel of Bradley going slack and relaxed and melty against him that he nearly sees stars when he feels Bradley’s hand on his cock, barely enough room between their bodies. Slick with too much pre-come, Bradley gives Jake a few firm strokes, grinding into him again, before Jake comes, gasping and shaking. Bradley holds him tight through all of it and keeps holding him, forehead seemingly glued to Jake’s neck, even after he’s gone slack. Then he collapses onto Jake and he lets himself enjoy it.

              “God we’re good at that.”

              “Too good to be true baby…” Bradley murmurs against his neck and Jake snickers, turns his head so he can reach him and kiss him better.

…           …           …

              “Dinner with Mav and Penny tonight. And Amelia of course.”

              “Why of course?”

              Bradshaw looks at him sharply and Jake shrugs helplessly, tries to convey that he’s either still dreaming, or not this timeline’s Jake, or whatever it is that has brought him here.

              “Amelia is Penny’s daughter. So sort of like my step-sister I guess, except for the fact that she’s almost twenty years younger than me.”

              “Oh.”

              “And Javy and Nix will be there. As well as all the kids.”

              “Yeah. We’re going,” Jake states firmly. He’s had over twenty-four hours with Bradley now, wants this future with him, but also wants everyone else that slots in around them, wants to see the kids again. And Javy and Phoenix.

              “Well, I wonder if you should meet Maverick. Do you know who Pete Mitchell is?”

              Jake scoffs.

              “Of course I do. Everyone compares me to him. Air to air kills etc.”

              “Hmm. Well. That’s my dad.”

              “What?”

              “Maverick is my dad.”

              “You didn’t take his name?”

              “Oh… hmm. Actually, I’m now wondering how much you actually knew back then…” Bradley then goes pale, so pale Jake’s immediately concerned he’s going to pass out.

              “Bradley, sit down before you fall down.”

              The fact that he listens is a little alarming, and Bradley is making grabby hands for him, like he needs to be held, and Thea is also pacing and whining and he knows this isn’t good.

              “What? What’s wrong?”

              “I am sorry for what I put you through. So sorry.”

              His stomach feels suddenly weighted, sinking down and he just wants to wake up and have this all be a dream or have all his memories of the last ten years.

              “What you put me through. You mean what you’re going to put me through when I go back right?”

              “Yeah. We are…” Bradley pulls a face and Jake doesn’t need words when the expression looks so physically painful.

              “Okay. So we’re both assholes. Great.”

              “Yeah. Don’t give up on me. On us.”

              “Yeah. Okay.”

              “Promise me.”

              “Okay. I promise.”

…           …           …

              Dinner is amazing. It has the same feel as the big family dinners he remembers growing up. Even though he doesn’t remember them all, the hug Captain Mitchell gives him feels like one his dad would give, Penny as well. Amelia tugs at his collar and tells him to stop looking so happy because it’s going to make her sick. He says he makes no promises. Javy and Nix arrive late, blaming the kids for their lateness which he gives them shit about and everyone rolls their eyes like this is normal. It feels normal. He’s surrounded by the kids and people he feels like he can imagine he would consider family if he got to spend more time with them. It all feels so easy.

              When they get home they’re quiet, sleepy due to eating so much and he falls asleep with Bradley wrapped around him, feeling safe and warm.

…           ….          …

              He wakes up and it feels weird, like a hangover but without any drinking, his mind foggy and he blinks awake, looks around and he’s not in bed with Bradley Bradshaw. Hell. He’s not even on fucking land right now, on a carrier off the coast of Japan if he remembers rightly and this is where he’d been expecting to wake up a couple of days ago.

              Was it only a couple of days ago?

              It had all felt so real and he can’t believe he misses people he’s never met, hell, haven’t even been born. If they ever get born. He sucks in a sudden breath then, the sharp pain of grief hitting him hard of this idea of family being ripped away from him before he even has it. He makes it through the morning by sheer force of will and muscle memory, before he’s called into the commodore’s office.

              He’s being called back to Top Gun.

CHAPTER THREE

[ness-plays-wizards]

Caesar Route Chapter 2 (1-6)

Last time on the Caesar Route, Liz met Caesar’s “drug dealer” friend Zett and later learned that Zett is a criminal kingpin that Caesar has a 50/50 chance of working for. Also Liz and Caesar flirted. It was before she found out he might be a criminal. Also Zeus and Hiro were there. Not at the flirting. 

So Liz is looking for Caesar, probably to ask him why his “childhood nickname” might actually be a part of some royal theme naming with the local teenage crime boss, she finds him with another girl.

Yall wont BELIEVE this but this also happened to the Caesar in JoJ-

So Liz starts feeling sad and jealous and then Caesar notices her, so Liz tries to run away but Caesar goes after her.

NO! CAESAR YOU WERE JUST STARTING TO BE DECENT-

And like... this situation REALLY doesn’t beg for an alternate explanation. But Caesar tries to gaslight (/hj) us into one anyway with THIS age old excuse.

MMHM. Sure.

The girl student (who is STILL HERE for some reason) corroborates the story and conveniently assumes that Liz is Caesar’s girlfriend, which she denies. The girl student decides to celebrate over still having a shot at Caesar, at which point Liz starts to get jealous. But not like fun jealous, like sad jealous that’s always described as just a pang in her chest.

The girl runs off and Caesar does THIS

Great! /s Another asshole!

Liz points out to him that he seems off and frightening, and he immediately agrees, for some reason.

There’s nothing worse than an evil simp. Then Caesar condescends her by calling her “too innocent” to understand the concept of dudes who flip-flop between good and evil as a flimsy attempt to demonstrate character depth and then leaves. Liz wisely doesn’t go after him.

That night, Liz confides in her roommate Amelia and asks what she would do if one of her friends knew a criminal. Liz does the “I’m asking for a friend” style excuse and Amelia buys it for some reason. She tells Liz she’d hear out the reason behind them being friends with a criminal instead of getting mad or interrogating them.

Then Liz gets summoned to an emergency meeting at the headmaster’s office. Zeus, Hiro, Alfonse, and Caesar are all here, and I have to wonder why one school with like 10 students on average needs 5 prefects. But hey, I’m just glad Shithead’s finally not here.

Zeus instantly gets suspicious of Liz and Caesar because he’s a nuisance but literally no one takes him seriously. Then they all go into the office and we’re reintroduced to Rembrandt.

(Scheduled for: January 12)

[did-derek-cheat-on-meredikb]

did derek cheat on meredith working CYF#

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Well, yes, he did pick her (after he picked Addison but that's neither here nor there). He did choose her. He did love her… and then, he cheated. Now Meredith doesn't know about the kiss but maybe that's for the best, because Derek is home and MerDer is back together. Did he cheat or not? weeks of wondering, let's cut to the chase: Did Derek (Patrick Dempsey) cheat on Meredith (Ellen Pompeo)? Even though several years have passed since Derek Shepherd suffered a the woman Derek Shepherd cheated on Meredith with in the series. 9 His story makes sense, but it sounds a little convenient — and Meredith is onto that. His story is that he was on his way to the airport when he realized he left his phone in the lab. When he got to the airport he called the woman who was in the lab, and she told him about answering his phone. Derek claims he came home to work on their marriage because they are in trouble, but, again, convenient. Interestingly enough, when Alex asks Meredith if he told her who was on the phone, she changes the subject. Once she leaves, we get a flashback to when Derek meets the resident, Renee, in question in Washington, D. Well done, Mama Hunt! It causes a huge argument, and, finally, Dr. Meanwhile, Jo is in the emergency room with a patient who is complaining of headaches that move around. Then, she tells Jo she has nose bleeds that start and then the blood just goes right back up into her nose. Say what? At this point we get another flashback of Derek and the resident he may or may not have cheated on Meredith with. The tension is there again, and they are caught throwing glances at each other over a microscope. Everything about this feels wrong already. Later, Alex runs into Callie and Dr. Pierce and they badger him about what Meredith has said to him. Has she heard from Derek? Who was on the phone? When Alex reveals that Derek came home last night, they both gasp in shock — and then they are devastated. Their logic is that if he came home, he came home to apologize. Are they even dating? In another flashback, Derek runs into his resident, Renee, in the break room of their lab. Of course, she does. Suddenly, the tension between them returns, and this time Derek catches it just as quickly as I do. He tells her she needs to go get some sleep and quickly leaves. He also brings her a bag full of peace offerings: underwear, socks, etc. About her boyfriend, John, of course. Then, he messes up really badly. After his mom sends him away, Owen runs into Amelia who tells him how great his mom is and how, despite his resistance, that she seems really happy with her boyfriend. Owen quickly snaps at her, too, and sends her packing. We get another flashback at this point, and Derek calls Renee in the middle of the night — 1am to be exact — and asks her to come to the lab. Instead of arguing with him, he takes a seat next to him and waits. When Derek tries to leave, Renee grabs his hand and convinces him to stay. Then, they kiss. A slow, sweet, passionate kiss in the lab. Outside the hospital Alex finds Meredith freaking out over losing her patient. Instead of talking to her, Alex pulls her in for a hug — which she quickly puts an end to. When he hugs her this time, she reciprocates. He really is her person now. Later, Dr. Webber comes into the waiting room and delivers good news to Owen and John: Evelyn is going to be okay. John tries to leave then, but Owen asks him to stay and brings him up to see his mom. So he does. Jo is having trouble getting her patient to let her back into her nose, and she had to enlist the help of April. Suddenly, a flashback: Derek pushes Renee away and says that he loves his wife. He wants nothing more than he wants Meredith. He runs out of the lab and when the camera pans out, his keys and cell phone are on the table. Tell us, HollywoodLifers — Are you happy Derek is back? Do you think he and Meredith will go back to normal now? Comment below with your thoughts!

[aptrust]

August keypad

#August keypad install

#August keypad software

#August keypad code

Photography by Chris Welch and Amelia Krales.While this latest Hitman trilogy is coming to a close with Hitman 3, it doesn’t mean that there’s any shortage of targets to assassinate in a variety of ways. There are other "smart" and Bluetooth-powered locks out there, so don't be discouraged if what August's got here isn't exactly what you're looking for. And remember, your key always works no matter what. It sure does feel cool controlling my door with a smartphone, or video chatting with the FedEx guy to accept a package when I'm not actually present. The Smart Keypad is the kind of thing that should probably be included with August's main Smart Lock, and a good wireless doorbell is what, $30? Diving in headfirst is a bit of a gamble in its own right, but remember that your key will always work just fine. But that's true of most smart home gear you'd be just fine with existing, cheaper options. That's a ton of money to throw down for something many will view as nonessential. I can't even actually use it!Īnd when you add all of this stuff up, it's $480 before tax. But remember that you've got to have that wired doorbell to get the Doorbell Cam working, which is sort of a bummer. I've definitely come to appreciate using the August Smart Lock, and the company's two newest products make the whole setup work better and give me slightly more confidence that I won't find myself locked out at the worst possible moment. At $79, it also feels a little expensive, but definitely ups the convenience factor if you're already invested in August's system. The Smart Keypad should help alleviate concerns about coming home with a dead phone battery after being brave enough to leave your keys inside it has its own battery, and August warns you well ahead of time when it's time to swap out. Again, August keeps track of who's coming and going inside its app. Other people can be assigned their own unique entrance codes, and codes can be deleted at any time. You can also press a single key to lock the door, which is certainly faster than pulling out your phone or using a key.

#August keypad code

You won't need keys or your smartphone in this case just punch in your chosen security code and the lock opens via Bluetooth. You attach it outside the door with either screws or 3M tape, and it serves as yet another way to open August's lock. Then there's the Smart Keypad, which is a lot simpler. The keypad is simple and takes some worry out of trusting August's system Right now, that functionality is missing, but should be coming within 90 days.

#August keypad software

August is promising to give the pricey Doorbell Cam some new features in future software updates, like a motion sensor that will alert you whenever someone's outside the door (even if they're not ringing the bell), and the ability to play back video recordings on demand. Out of the box, the August Smart Lock only lets you unlock it when you're actually nearby remote lock/unlock either requires buying a $79.99 "Connect" accessory or this Doorbell Cam. The ability to unlock the Smart Lock from anywhere is really nice. The camera also captures occasional snapshots to give you an idea of what's going on outside throughout the day - even when a video session isn't live. That'll depend on your data connection, but August claims to have optimized the video stream for various conditions. In my tests, the Doorbell Cam worked reliably my phone was pinged almost immediately after the button was pressed, and booting up the video call was relatively fast. All activity is logged in August's app, which already keeps track of who's been in and out of the house thanks to the Smart Lock.

#August keypad install

They could install August's smartphone app and gain access (with your permission) that way, but this cuts out jumping through those hoops. Really, the Doorbell Cam is meant to be an easy way of letting friends or family inside when you're not around, or on the opposite side of your house. The picture quality also holds up pretty well in low light, though there's no night vision of any sort, which is something offered by some smart home security cameras. It outputs video at 1280x960, which is sufficient to determine just who's standing outside your door. That was my situation, unfortunately, but August sent a demonstration unit (with all of its products attached to a tiny door) so I could test the Doorbell Cam's quality. If you've got a wireless doorbell, you'll be totally out of luck this is the first August product that doesn't operate on battery power alone. The doorbell camera, which comes in either silver or dark gray, is designed to replace a standard wired doorbell setup, so there must be power running to it.

[samfrancis94]

So... 2021...

... has been a uniquely perplexing year for me. 

(Warning: I will be rambling for most of this post, and it is highly likely it might not make much sense, so if you are not too keen on reading all of that, you may skip to the final paragraph for the TL;DR section). 

For one, whatever happened to me in the first half of the year is completely lost on me. Seriously, I can’t remember what happened in those first few months at all, and I mean, at all. The first time I realised this was when I was having a work review meeting with my managers at work and I told them I honestly couldn’t remember what I have done in the first half of the year -- to which another manager also agreed was the case for him. That then got me thinking about what I have done for myself in the first half of the year too, and... nothing. I had to look back at my socials to recall, and even then, the memories returned in vague glimpses and shimmers. 

There was never anything concrete or engaging, not even in my art. Sure I tried a few things, and finally pushed my way into making more digital art and experimenting, but even so, nothing stuck. Of course, I am not discounting the good and amazing things that happened to me personally at the time, for sure (come on, I had a mohawk for crying out loud!), but apart from those moments, I can’t seem to resonate with anything else. It was a lot of meddling, but for the most part, there was never any real drive or direction. Just... going with whatever I guess was either kinda cool or convenient at the time. 

Then, come May and June, things began to shift gears a little, and I got more seriously into sketchbooking and watching painting videos (mostly James Gurney and his plein air stuff), which I recall quite fondly. Then, came the second half, which was perhaps some of the most tumultuous and exciting months for the year. For one, I was introduced to DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN (which I fell in love with because of how engaging the characters are) and the DECHART Games community after falling in love with Bryan Dechart and Amelia Rose-Blaire who were in DBH. This inadvertently led me to Twitch, where I connected and engaged with several more people, especially artists and authors, some of whom I still keep in touch with from time to time. In the midst of all this, I participated in the DechART challenge for August and October, and this was a major push into making more art, and it helped that the community was very supportive. Ended up engaging and keeping in contact with them, too.

In the middle of this, one particular prompt from the challenge reminded me of a game that I was hoping to play since its release in 2019: DEATH STRANDING. The only reason why I hadn’t gotten to playing it yet was because my laptop at the time did not meet the minimum requirements for the game and I had been reluctant to get myself new hardware. It didn’t seem too important that I got a new one, seeing as the old one was still technically functional -- though it was showing clear signs of deterioration already -- and I thought I should save that money up for something better or more useful. 

Eventually, I decided, in spite of my reluctance, that this was the ‘something better’ that I was waiting for. So I finally got a new laptop... and also a new desk, because the old one was shit and hurting my arms and back. (It was a console for crying out loud! Not sure what I was thinking agreeing to go with that in the beginning.)

And I finally got to play the game!

This was by far my biggest highlight of the year; I never knew I could be this happy playing a game. It is absolutely gorgeous to look at and the story is beautiful, and above all else, I love how the game puts especial emphasis on letting me take my time to decide what to bring, and how to go, and it doesn’t ‘punish’ me for taking the ‘wrong’ way. There are an infinite number of ways one can make through any situation and I never realised how little I understood of that to be true, until now. 

I have always been too cowardly to have such agency before this because I have an unhealthy fixation on the potential severity of the consequences of my actions since childhood (meaning I always go with actions that was the most comfortable or that resulted in the least punishment), and this game came to me around the time when I was still working (and struggling) to heal that part of myself, gently but firmly pushing me to be brave in spite of my reluctance and insecurities, and to gently remind me that consequences are fine, and we can always learn to deal with that. It has helped to reaffirm and validate my own personal struggles and I cannot thank it enough for that. 

And in the middle of all of this, work had become very stressful and I was thankful for my decision to get this laptop so that I could play this game to help me cope. 

In addition, the game inspired and motivated me to create even more art and get into virtual photography because of how gorgeous everything looks. With the amount of art that I have been making, I began to see the emergence of my personal style and slowly embraced it and learned to have fun with it. Publishing them then connected me with even more people online, especially those in the DEATH STRANDING community, leading me to some amazing peeps from all over the world who has been nothing but friendly, supportive, loving and wholesome and with whom I have had the pleasure of engaging (y’alls know who you are, love you and appreciate you so much! 😍). And this is in addition to the amazing people I have reconnected with after having not met them in such a long time and the development of existing friendships and relationships that has entered even healthier, more wholesome waters.

(If you have reached this far into the post, thank you so very much for your effort and time! I don’t expect anyone to read through all of this because I’m not even sure if I’m making much sense here, and if I wasn’t, I would like to apologise. Like I said, it was a perplexing year -- I’m actually still not done processing the way it turned out and I don’t think I ever will. But regardless, just know that you have deepest appreciation and gratitude for making it this far, dear friend.🫂 )

TL;DR

So yeah, 2021 was quite a strange year; it started out with almost nothing in store, only to then propel me into what could only be described as a really intensely loaded journey of self-discovery. I have come to the end of it having discovered my personal style/voice, made new awesome friends and having done some work on my self-confidence. I guess it is also fair to say that it was a year of healing, too. I have come to acknowledge things about myself that I never thought to before: that I have yet to properly grow into myself, that there are wounds that deserve healing after having been left to fester for years, that consequences are not punishments but just signals for learning opportunities, that I shouldn’t have to deny myself things that truly make me happy, and that I shouldn’t deny others from knowing the real me (faults and all). And I have games and art and the communities that surrounded them and the lovely support of many beautiful souls I have engaged with to thank for this amazing experience! Thank you all for this awesome journey.  ❤️🤍💙

So... now... 2022... let’s see what you’ll be like, shall we?

[tiktaalic]

All I know of sheila is what i've read in your posts over the last, um, ten minutes --- but she exudes og wincest shipper c.2007-2008. Accurate?

A couple thoughts: I did not start watching the show through a certain lens. I was hooked by the acting and cinematography as well as the twisted fucked-up Winchester story. My only awareness of a fanbase were the “Destiel” people, whose eruption of outrage in re: Season 9, episode 3 is what made me start watching, out of curiosity. But all the other stuff – Wincest, etc. – wasn’t on my radar. I think that because I didn’t write my re-caps through a particular lens – defensive/offensive in re: my particular “ship” – because I was open to possibilities (in the story onscreen) – since the show ITSELF encourages that kind of ambiguity – the people who gravitated here were those who also liked to “swim in possibilities.” Who were interested in story and how stories are told.

There have been a couple of “either/or” people who showed up here, Sam Girls, Dean Girls, who “hated” Sam, or “hated” Dean, but they didn’t last long. (Member “You’re all a bunch of annoying cunts,” anyone?) In general, you fine people who read my SPN stuff are “both/and” people. We like the show and how it’s told. We like trying to parse it out, figure it out, we like to look at all the possibilities. This is why the discussions here have been so epic. We all have our takes, and strong takes, but we aren’t positional about our SHIPS. Because we aren’t interested only in our ships. We’re interested in the SHOW. The way I look at it is: I don’t “ship” the brothers. I’m a fan of the SHOW. As I became more aware of the fan battles – most of which I stay out of – I became aware of what I call the “consensus thinking” in the different factions. If you ship THIS one thing, then you also like/hate this other character. And it all seems agreed upon. If you ship THAT, you hate THAT arc. Etc. I am so glad I watched the show completely free of all that white noise.

I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to “like” Amelia. I was open to the possibilities of that arc, and very curious about it. I like learning new things about Sam and Dean. People who are like “I hated Amelia, she was so rude” … that’s fine, it’s just that that’s not how I interact with stories. What does Amelia bring to the table as a STORY? Why did they write her that way? Back then, I trusted the writers. It was fascinating to me that Sam found comfort with a woman who was such a mess. It told me where HE was at. What a fascinating and complex choice. These secondary characters need to reveal something about our leads. Amelia – like Bela – was HUGELY revealing about our leads. I also didn’t know I was supposed to “hate” that Sam didn’t look for Dean, and see it as – dreaded word – “ooc.” So any time something bad happens, or your “fave” does something you don’t approve of – it’s “ooc.” Convenient! I find Lady Macbeth sinister, but I love her as a character. I don’t want to meet Raskolnikov in a dark alley, but he’s one of the greatest characters ever written. I didn’t know I was supposed to run out of town on a rail any woman who DARED to “come between the boys.” Nope. I don’t watch the show that way. People who aren’t on this wavelength are really turned off by me. Lol. I’ve seen your subtweets.

I prefer Sam and Dean fucked up. Not ENEMIES, or at loggerheads, but fucked up. Human, making mistakes, screwing up, hiding things from each other (thinking they’re protecting the other), always making the same mistakes because they can’t help it. This feels very true to me. This whole “relatable” thing – a character deemed good/bad based on whether or not you “relate” to them … this is fine for fans (I guess? I’ve never rolled that way, but never mind) … but for a critic, which I am, and how I’ve approached writing about this show – relatability doesn’t matter. When Tommy Lee Jones came and spoke at my school, he was talking about Executioner’s Song, where he played serial killer Gary Gilmore. Someone asked if you needed to “like” the character you played. TLJ said, “No. You don’t need to like the character. You need to want to WATCH the character.” This is so well said. No matter what either of those guys did in early seasons, I wanted to watch what happened. Even when they betrayed each other, did awful things, etc. I’m not running around “defending” this or that choice. That’s not how I engage with stories. So all of this “I hated when Sam wouldn’t forgive Dean in Season 9” noise … is really foreign to me. Okay, yes, it was upsetting, but my God, it was great dramatically. It was supposed to be stressful and uncomfortable to watch. It showed character growth, and development.

Wanting everyone to be nice and supportive to each other all the time is fine for fanfic and boring as hell onscreen (which we have now seen for the past 3 seasons, which are basically crowd-sourced from the fandom). I sound like I’m down on fanfic. Please. One of the first things I ever wrote was at the age of 12, and it was a screenplay about Han Solo’s scrappy 12-year-old sister. But I don’t think George Lucas needed to listen to my fanfic. I never showed it to a soul. It has nothing to do with the movie itself, it was a FANTASY. So anyway, back to the point. What is the point?

june 2019 viewing diary, sheila o'malley

[blackjacktheboss]

“i need a hug” + “let me go” if ur willing 🥺💛

[not taking prompts, just filling ones I got like a month ago] 

I don’t even know what this is lmao 

Percy leans against the passenger side door of his car, patiently waiting for the bell that marks the end of the school day to ring. He casually checks his watch, which had been a gift from Tyson a few years before, and sees that kids should start pouring out of the building in 3… 2… 1.

The front doors swing open and a tidal wave of children descend upon the school’s grand lawn as the sounds of kids laughing and screaming fills the air. Percy pushes off the car and stands straight as he squints to search the sea of small humans for a pair of his own children.

It isn’t long before he spots the familiar sight of his youngest, Ruthie, skipping down the long concrete walkway towards him as her blonde curls bounce behind her. The unfamiliar part of the scene is the older brunette girl who holds Ruthie’s hand, and the teacher who follows behind them.

“Oh boy,” he says to himself as they approach. “This should be fun.”

Ruthie gives him her usual joyous hello, which includes a big hug and an “I missed you” that always makes him smile no matter what kind of day he has had.

Amelia waits for his sister to move out of the way before launching herself at Percy. “I need a hug,” she declares.

He hugs her back, confused by the public affection his notoriously too-cool-for-school daughter is displaying but he decides to go with it for the time being.

“Mr. Jackson,” the teacher says as she catches up to the girls. “I’m Mrs. Sanders, Amelia is in my class for math.”

Percy shakes the woman’s hand. “I remember you from back to school night. Nice to see you again.”

“I just wanted to say I wish you a speedy recovery and if your family needs any extra support during this challenging time, please reach out to me and my team. We’re happy to help in any way we can.”

Percy glances down at Amelia, whose head is conveniently tucked into his side. “Thank you, Mrs. Sanders, I appreciate that. You take care.”

“You too, Mr. Jackson,” she says sadly. “Amelia, you come in any day at lunch to take the test, okay? Take all the time you need.”

Amelia nods against Percy but doesn’t turn to look at her teacher as she departs.

Percy waits a few beats until Mrs. Sanders has disappeared back into the crowd. “What test is she talking about Amelia?”

Amelia pulls herself away from her dad and chews on her bottom lip, the same nervous habit as her mother. “Um… Well... “

“Daddy,” Ruthie interrupts as she takes her backpack off. “Can I wait in the car while Amelia gets in trouble?”

Percy hands her the keys. “Of course you can, Monster.”

Ruthie excuses herself and soon a top ten pop hit can be heard blasting from the car’s speakers.

“So you gonna tell me what you did or do I have to guess?” he asks. “Mrs. Sanders looked really worried about us.”

Amelia wrings her hands together as she avoids eye contact. “There may have been a math test today…”

“Mhmm.”

“That I may have forgotten about…”  she continues sheepishly.

“And?” he prompts.

“And I may have told Mrs. Sanders I forgot about it because you have a disease,” she says, rushing through the words.

Percy blinks slowly. “You did what?”

“Dad, I panicked!”

Percy pinches the bridge of his nose, then drops his hand when a question comes to mind. “Wait, what disease?”

Amelia covers her eyes. “Drakonus Minotaurius.”

Percy slaps a hand over his mouth. “Amelia Sally Jackson,” he says, his voice muffled.

“I know,” she says, dropping her hands. “But I swear, you were gonna recover in a few days! I just need some time to study.”

“Days?” Percy asks, suddenly invested despite knowing he should be feeling a righteous parental anger. “That’s a little suspicious.”

“Oh,” she says, like she hadn’t considered it. “How long should I wait then?”

“At least a month,” Percy says with a shrug. “Maybe two.”  

“That makes sense,” she agrees.

“But it’s gonna cost you,” he says conspiratorially.

Amelia scowls. “What do you mean?”

Percy smiles and wraps his daughter in a bear hug, picking her up off the ground as she groans in protest.

“Let me go!”

“This is the price of doing business, kid!” he shoots back. “Plus, you should be nice to me. Haven’t you heard?”

She again scowls at him as he sets her down, bending so that they are nose to nose. “What?” she asks.

He whispers. “I have a disease.”

[disasterfandoms]

After Action Argument, Part 2 || A Trent Sawyer and Full-Metal Oneshot

This is part 2 of this story. Co-written by @bravo-four-seal-team​

​A/N: Soooo, this is becoming a multi-chapter fic, friends. Felt like I needed to get this out and then i’ll work on requests.

TW: talk of deployment, talk of landmines, talk of death, talk of suicidal ideations

TAGLIST: @himbohondo @a-kate3 @rebelwrites @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @supervalcsi @mrsmarvelous1995  @chibsytelford​ @velvetcardiganbucky​ @jayhalsteadfan-2417​​

27 hours and another successful mission later, they all were on the plane home from deployment. Tension was still high between Trent and Metal, but everyone had managed not to bring it up so they could have a peaceful flight home and be in their own beds.

Well, almost everyone.

“So Trent, Metal, what the hell has the two of you so worked up that you’re barely speaking to anyone, much less each other?” Ray inquired, tired of being out of the loop. Trent was across from Ray, while Metal was beside Jason. Sonny was on the corner of the bench, and Mandy was peacefully napping up top. Everyone around them groaned, and suddenly hating his guts, because the pair just picked up where they left off.

“What?” Ray asked the others, confused as to what was happening. He was trying to help the team’s dynamics, especially if Metal was gonna roll with them while Clay was out of commission.

“I still don‘t understand why you thought it was a good idea, Trent. I know what you claim is your reaso-”

“It is my reasoning, Metal.”

“That’s bullshit then, T. It’s flawed in principle-”

“Flawed in principle, really?”

“Enough, you two. We don’t need an encore of yesterday,” Jason attempted to order them into silence, but Full-Metal was already angry and he was taking none of that.

“No, Jason. Fuck off,” Metal shot back, before turning back to Trent and continuing the conversation.

“HEY. I meant it, knock it off,” Jason said louder, trying to get ahold of the two men’s attention so they can go back to the peace.

“Unless we are in the battlefield, on your team’s op, I don’t have to listen to jack shit Jason.” Metal spit at him, standing up and pacing.

Jason stood, and got into Metal’s face, “When you are on the same team as me you will do as I order you to do." Both Master Chiefs were in a pissing contest for dominance now, Trent just puts his head in his hands, trying to wipe away the frustration and exhaustion plaguing him.

"Ops over Hayes! Ain't doing that great if one member thinks it's better if he dies to save another,” Metal spoke with venom in his voice, pointing to where Trent’s sitting, looking Jason straight in the eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?” Ray asked, turning to Trent to see if it was true. Ray was never the greatest at reading him, but he could swear it looked like the man wanted to punch Full-Metal. Sonny, Brock, and Ray turned and looked at each other, all three surprised at what Alpha’s Master Chief just said about their medic.

“Who are you to question how I’m leading MY team? And why do you keep volunteering to help us out if you don’t think I’m doing my job?” Jason sneered, not registering exactly what Metal just told him about one of his team members.

“Did you not just hear me? A member of your team would rather be left behind to die alone than your 2IC dying. How the hell is your leadership if one of your brothers would want that?” Metal paused, letting Jason take in what he just told him. He still didn’t seem to get it though. Everyone else, except Mandy, who was still asleep upstairs, had formed a circle encompassing Trent so they could talk to him about what they’re hearing.

"Alpha is your backup on each mission! I took an oath the same one you took, to protect my team, my brothers! You should have told Sonny to nip it in the bud when he cracked damned jokes! Your medic would rather die than be saved, Hayes! Is that getting through to you yet?" Metal finished, finally looking around at everyone and glaring at Sonny. 

Ray was trying to wrap his head around what he was hearing. He looked at Trent, who just looked exhausted, and said, his voice raised, “Trent, what the hell? Rule number one of the military, of this team, is never leave your brother behind. You know that! We drill it into every member of this team the second they’re selected,”

“That’s enough!” Blackburned yelled. Everyone went silent, and looked at him waiting for order, “I understand that this is a warranted and needed conversation, but lower your voices. Not everyone on this plane needs to hear about Trent’s life or decision making,” They all nodded, and tried to calm the storm of emotions this conversation has caused. They just couldn’t understand how Trent, a valuable member of this team, could think that at any point this was okay.

"The sane answer at the time was to have the others go, work on getting to Ray, and let me work the problem. He has a family to get home to, so does the others. Them dying with me was not something I was willing to accept,” Trent just wished this conversation was over, and that he was home in his bed.

“Trent I swear to god if you use that family line one more time I’m going to smack you. You have a family at home, Amelia at home, who would be equally as devastated if you didn’t come back to them,” Metal emphasized, and while the team was still confused as to who exactly Amelia was, they decided to table that conversation for another day.

Metal looked at Jason, wondering when the hell Hayes was going to say something, to try and get into his medic’s head, but he remained silent. Metal sighed, about to start trying to talk some sense into him again, but Ray picked up the fight, “Brother, I love that you think about my family when I’m in trouble. But sacrificing yourself, our only medic, wouldn’t have done anyone any good.”

“Ray me being on the land mine was what slowed us down from finding you. We probably could have had the HVT and gotten you if I hadn’t stepped on it. Them going off to find you without me would have saved everyone time, time you could have used to not have gone through what you did,” Trent was pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to make the headache go away. He would gladly die for his brothers to live, he doesn’t see why that’s an issue all of a sudden.

“Trent, we’re all alive but that’s because we worked the problem together. Any one of us could have stepped on that mine, it’s just shit luck that it was you. You wouldn’t have left us behind if it was reversed,” Metal sighed, not wanting to get emotional or too deep into whatever the hell is brewing beneath the surface in Trent with the other guys around, but the can of worms was opened so they might as well go there.

“Gotta agree with Full Metal, Trent,” Sonny interjected, looking back and forth between the two men. He’d crack a joke if he didn’t think Full Metal would kill him.

"But I rather have all my brothers alive, rather than being saved and then attend a funeral, Trent you gotta understand that,” Ray cut in, looking into Trent’s eyes and trying to find any semblance of understanding. He was met with a blank look, though, as Trent was trying to recede into himself to stop from talking about this any further.

“If you all had left me there, I would have figured it out, we could have got Ray, and gotten the HVT. That way Shaw wouldn’t have tried to break our team apart. We almost lost our team, guys,”

“You’re not God, Trent. Leaving you there wouldn’t guarantee that Ray would have been safer, and you know damn well you would have died had we left you to your devices.” Brock interjected, and everyone took notice. Trent is usually the quiet one, but it’s even rarer to hear Brock speak unless spoken to.

“Jase says all the time that mission success comes first and that he trusts us to work the problem. That’s what I am trying to get across to you, I would have worked the problem.”

“That’s bullshit, Trent. HVT and the mission comes second to our men, especially our medic. I may say it a lot but that’s so you keep emotions out of the field and focus on what’s at hand. There was no way we were going to leave you to deactivate a bomb, even if it took time out of the mission,” Jason spoke up, and Metal looked at him and nodded as a thank you, maybe Trent would listen to him.

“You don’t get to just conveniently forget about your own family, T. The fact is all three of those headstrong women you have in your life would murder every single one of us if you didn’t come home. What am I supposed to tell them the next time you’re crazy enough to pull this, and for some god awful reason they let you?” Metal laid into him, trying to make him remember that his family loves him, because he has amnesia or some shit.

“Metal it’s not-”

“Don’t. I won’t talk about how fucked up your mind is when it comes to that with everyone here, but you matter more than you let yourself believe. You’re an uncle to Ray’s kids, to Jason’s, you think they won’t grieve you as if you’re family?”

“It’s not that, Metal. Those kids need their Dad’s to come home to them, what would I have said to Naima, Jameelah, and Ray jr. if Ray had died out there? If Jason had died with me in the field, who would take care of Mikey and Emma?”

“Trent, you need to understand, that everyone on this plane would rather use time to make sure their brother is alive and can get out safely. We'd rather lose the HVT and get chewed out for mission failure, than to leave you. I’m trained to survive, to find an area to get to exfil safely, which I was in the process of doing. That’s why they ingrain it into us at BUD/S, at selection. Don't think for a minute your brothers will abandon you, no arguments we'd do it the same way each time, no matter who was in that position,” Ray attempts to get through to him, but Trent’s just shaking his head.

“Listen, guys, that’s enough for now. You all can pick up this conversation another time if you’d like, but you all need rest before we touch down so you can see your families and be well-rested for the funeral tomorrow.” Blackburn cut in, and made sure they followed it to the letter. He then told Trent to see him in his office before he went home when they landed. Trent internally groaned, he just wanted to have some peace and quiet at home, in his own house.

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

The rest of the flight was pretty quiet, and when they land they all went to the tarmac to see their families. Naima was at the hospital, but Davis, Clay, Emma and Mikey, and Amelia were all there, waiting for their respective seals and teammates to come home.

The team all hugged Clay and Lisa, and then Full-Metal and Trent went to the car to hug the short, long-haired brunette that the rest of the team doesn’t recognize.

“Hey sailors, looking for a ride?” The brunette asked cheerily, glad they they’re home safe. She notices something’s off, though, as Trent’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Ames, how did you even know we were coming home today? I was gonna surprise you at work,” Trent asked, wrapping his arms around the woman, thankful to finally see her again.

“Scott called me, asking me to pick you all up! Still mad you didn’t tell me you were coming home, but I’ll let it slide because I missed you both. You want me to drop you two off at your homes or do you want to eat first?”

“I vote for eating, Mellie. It’s been a long flight, and a long ass deployment, and I want food and my warm bed with the kiddos,” Metal quipped, putting his bags in the back of his sister’s car. 

“They’re cats, Metal, not kids. I also vote for eating first, but I won’t be ready to go for another 20 minutes. Gotta go to Blackburn’s office for a bit,” Trent shot back, before putting his bags in the back of the car and kissing Amelia on the forehead. He knew that look she gave him, she has spidey-like senses for when things are wrong with him.

“Everything okay?” Amelia asked, her hand immediately going to the locket her grandmother had given her before she died. Inside was two pictures: one of her and Trent, and one of their group, which consists of her, Trent, Metal, and Ashley.

“Yeah love, everything’s fine. I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” He asked, lying through his teeth. She sighed and nodded, then her and Full Metal sat on her hood, watching the planes go by. 

“What’s going on with him, Scotty? He has that same distant look in his eye he had after that mission Adam died in. I know he has a hard time adjusting when he comes home, but he usually looks at least happy to see me.” Amelia says, not looking at her brother and fiddling with her locket around her neck. 

“You mean, besides Clay getting blown up in the bar explosions when they were off-duty?”

“Yeah, I mean besides that. You and I both know he doesn’t go that dark unless someone died beside him or the nightmares are coming back.”

“He did something stupid in the field, got a lot of us on his ass for it, which is why he’s meeting with his commander. I don’t know what’s going on in that head of his, though. Something snapped this deployment, Mellie. He’s different, and I don’t know how to help him.”

“Is that what he’s talking to your Commander about? In all of the deployments I’ve picked you up from, I’ve never seen your Commanding Officer ask to speak to anyone before they go home,” Amelia turned to look at him as she spoke, and met his eyes. He sighed and nodded, a mix of concern and anger spread across his face.

““If i had to guess, probably. Don’t tell him I told you any of this, though. Pretty sure he wants to keep you and his life as a seal separate.”

“You and I both know it doesn’t work that way, Scotty. It takes him a while to get his head out of work-mode during a easy deployment, but after this one?”

“If anyone were to get through to him, it would be you, Amelia. He’s crazy about you, you do realize that, right?”

“I know that I love him, and I don’t like seeing him in pain. I also know that you all have him 300 days out of the year, and he can’t forget what he’s seen as easily as the others can.”

“He’s the medic, Mellie, I would be worried if the duty he carries didn’t affect him. He’ll get through this, especially if he knows you’re n-”

“I’m not leaving, Scott,” she interrupted him sharply, taking a deep breath before sinking her face into her hands, “I just don’t want to fail him.”

“Amelia Rose Carter, look at me,” Full Metal ordered, waiting to see her sapphire blue eyes meet his before continuing, “Trent is going to be fine. He just needs time, and you being there as support while he works this out. You won’t fail him, because this is something he needs to do himself.”

He watched tears fill her eyes, before he sighed and pulled her into a side hug, letting her shed some tears on his grey t-shirt for a few minutes before she pulled away, carefully wiping her eyes as to avoid completely ruining her makeup. “So, Scotty, you find love in the Philippines?” she giggled, causing him to throw his head back and laugh. They kept on joking, making each other laugh to pass the time until Trent came back out. Thankfully, their sibling banter made them feel better, brightening the mood so they can take care of what they needed to later.

[shipskicksandgiggles]

ikrrrrrr i wanna know all your thought, like please i need

okay yes but I need solid minute to die because I went to check their ages (my guess was Jim=18, Eric=20-something), mostly because I wanted to see if there was a significant age gap, and I learned something I don’t think I’m going to be able to process ever

according to the disney wiki page, Eric is 18.

I’m. and look. Jim is reasonable also probably about 18? he would have to be at least 17 to go into the military academy at the end of the movie???? but I’m??? anyways we’re assuming there is no major age gap for me to be concerned about and they’re at most a year or two apart in age. jesus christ the things I do instead of sleeping

anyways hi EricxJim was the exact thing I needed to go completely insane and I do have thoughts

I’m just. imagine if Eric was taken from earth ala Starlord right? just randomly abducted by this crew, but a ship’s a ship so it’s fine, he can manage. one day this little scrap of a kid and his dogfather on down at the docks and Eric was looking for work anyways so he gets hired with the crew Doppler aquires, and Eric and Jim immediately hit it off

basically, they latch onto each other instantly. they’re the youngest people on board and are prone to causing trouble the way teenage boys do, plus Jim’s got the willowy mechanic thing going on and Eric’s been working on ships since earth so they make one hell of a team

over the course of the whole journey, they open up about each other’s pasts and Jim doesn’t think he has a chance with a prince being the son of a single mother since his father abandoned them, and then he never really had any money to his name. Eric convinced him that he’s not really a prince anymore, his kingdom was on Earth, it’s not like he has any way of going back, and it’s all sweet and sappy

then they get to the planet and they find out about the portal. Eric can go back to earth. cut to the mission is over, no one dies, and they still have the orb because I fucking said so, and they manage to make it work even without the mechanism of treasure planet because hey, convenient travel

Eric insists on going back to earth, if only to let his governor (I forgot his name, but you know the one) know that he’s alive and that he can do with the kingdom as he sees fit. the governor was understandably shocked when he appeared, but dragged Eric off and sniffed at Jim because like. why would a prince want to stay with a lowlife when he can claim his birthright

which Jim totally expects him to do btw. so the portal closes so Eric can take care of a few things and Jim never expects it to reopen. so he takes up Amelia’s offer on the military academy, Eric would be proud, and the first time he comes home on leave, Eric is standing there, waiting to surprise him

anyways hi I’m going to go have a breakdown because this is the strangest thing I’ve ever written and that’s saying something

[cheesyradfem]

History will leave you behind and you TERFS and transphobes will go down as just another hateful group of oppressors. Science, history, and the LGBTQ community stands with trans people. This blog is absolutely disgusting and anti-science.

...do genderists just put buzzwords in a blender and think they've made a point?

I don't even know why I'm gracing this with a longer response, since it's a rather ridiculous case of projection.

My header says I'm a radfem sideblog and most of my content is just reblogs. If you want to claim that my blog is "disgusting", take it up with the original posters.

"Another hateful group of oppressors" an oppressor is someone who holds institutional privilege over the oppressed. TERFs are by definition women, who are oppressed for their biological sex. A group cannot be privileged and oppressed on the same axis. Hence radical feminists do not oppress transpeople, especially not transwomen, who are biologically male and therefore oppress women on the basis of sex.

"Science" is an objective field of study that seeks to understand our natural world. It cannot stand with anyone (much like history), as it is not a person with feelings or opinions. However, science has consistently proven that mammals (a biological class that includes humans) are sexually dimorphic. There are only two types of mammal gametes, sperm and egg, Y and X. There are some controversies over the idea of brain sex; some creative misinterpretations of data led some to draw the conclusion that men and women have different brains (based on gray matter, brain size); but more studies proved this to be untrue, and the minute differences can be explained by social conditioning. Gender is a social construct, and therefore does not exist in the realm of natural science. So I can't really say scientific research supports your argument.

History is another field that has been subject to some horrifying misinterpretations by genderists to support their arguments. Women such as the warrior Joan of Arc, the doctor Margaret Ann Bulkey, the Mexican Revolutionary colonel Amelia Robles, the artist Hannah Gluck, lesbian author Radcliffe Hall and even lesbian activist Storme deLarverie, have been posthumously transed simply for being gender non conforming (pursuing careers women "shouldn't") in eras even more viciously misogynistic than our own; that about half of these women are lesbians and some of them butch indicates how lesbophobic this interpretation of history is. Women can't achieve great things or love other women without secretly having a "male soul", is the logical conclusion of transing these women. Male historical figures get transed much less often; Malcolm "Marsha P" Johnson is the most common despite having stated 11 days before his death that he was "a man" and "just a transvestite" aka a man that dressed in women's clothes. Ignoring the context and even the very words people in history have said in order to prop up transgenderism is revisionism. Historical analysis doesn't support your arguments either.

It only stands to reason that, with the denial of observable biological sex which has led to the horrific "cotton ceiling" (that lesbians must be open to dating people they cannot be attracted to, males), the appropriation of lesbian historical figures as trans men, the no-platforming to outright physical assault of lesbian feminists on college campuses, the protests of libraries and domestic violence shelters because of "anti trans books" or that they don't allow transwomen to work with vulnerable women, the attempted silencing of detransitioners (many of them butch lesbians)...that lesbians are simply tired. They are tired of having to support people that would throw them under the bus the moment it's convenient. They are tired of having to redefine their homosexuality as "non-men attracted to non-men" or "queer", or their womanhood as "uterus bearers" while men get to keep their language. They are tired of having their foremothers that inspire them called men based on regressive gender stereotypes. They are tired of being silenced when trying to talk about their female bodies and experiences. They feel dismayed when they see the rapidly dwindling number of lesbian-only spaces in the US, from over 200 lesbian bars in the late 1980s to just 15 in 2020, and feel hopeless when those reporting on it claim this is a good thing because it "makes them inclusive." Well, lesbianism is a sexual orientation, and sexual orientations are by definition exclusive. If you don't feel included in the label, then it's because you likely aren't a homosexual female. The homophobia and misogyny of the genderist movement has caused many lesbians to "peak" and become gender-critical feminists because of their personal experience with harassment bordering on conversion therapy in LGBTQ groups simply for being lesbian. Other women have become gender-critical as they fear that their biological sex will no longer be a protected category under the law. Even some gay men, disgusted by the homophobic entitlement of trans men on Twitter/tumblr (called the "jockstrap ceiling"), have peaked and decided to stand with women.

So, keep the TQ community. The LGB will be there to rebuild our community after the mainstream finally realizes the anti-science, anti-history, anti-logic, of the trans movement and apologizes for ever having supported it thinking they were helping gays and lesbians. It has already started. Don't be so certain the radfems, some of whom were fighting for women long before you were an idea in your disappointed mother's mind, will be the ones history leaves behind.

[sebastianshaw]

@pryde-of-the-x-men- Sorry this took all day! I basically passed out after work. The issue was in the 1998 “Magneto” miniseries that actually starred Joseph. It was probably #3 or #4, but the whole thing is worth reading (despite the abominable art) for awful Fabian content. We’ve got: - Fabian’s first panel in it features him LEVITATING AND SPARKLING. Neither of these things are in his power set. - The first thing he does is creep on a woman - He claims to this woman that he has super duper changed his ways and is now as pure as snow. He literally compares himself to the snow surrounding the base. Seriously. - Two issues later, he then tries to force her to be in his would-be harem (as he announces his plans for such) - SHE BEATS HIM UNCONSCIOUS. THREE PEOPLE SEE IT. NO ONE QUESTIONS WHY. THEY JUST (CORRECTLY) ASSUME HE DESERVED IT. - So he’s all HI IM UR NEW BESTIE to Joseph, teaching him how to be Magneto, etc. That’s when the Acolytes burst in, attack him, and tell “Magneto” all about how Fabian is the dude who MURDERED HIM. Joseph is like SO DID YOU JUST CONVENIENTLY FORGET THIS HMM and Fabian gives this heartfelt speech about how “I have done heinous things, and I can’t pretend those things never happened” even though that is EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS DOING before getting caught. JOSEPH FUCKING BUYS IT. - Three Acolytes FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER over WHO GETS TO KILL FABIAN - “But we must both be brave. We have other people to think of.” FABIAN CLAIMING HE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT ANYONE LOL - He claims to Exodus that the woman, Amelia, is the liar and manipulator and iirc, I think Exodus buys it. I think Exy just. . . .forgot that he could read minds through this whole thing. . . because this would have been over so much faster if he had. . . or maybe he just doesn’t want to be in Fabian’s brain. - The introduction of Orator, an Acolyte who can detect lies. Funnily enough, after Fabian’s return, we never see him again. I wonder what happened. - FABIAN LIES TO A BIRD. Not a shapeshifter. Not a sentient bird. Not even someone’s pet. Just. . . .a random wild bird.  It’s just him and the bird and he talks to it about how REALLY, I’VE CHANGED, I JUST WANT PEACE BETWEEN MUTANTS AND FLATSCANS NOW because using an anti-human slur REALLY sells how sincere he is. And then he assures the bird “I’m being sincere” HE IS NOT ONLY LYING TO A BIRD, HE IS LYING TO THE BIRD ABOUT LYING TO IT!!! To be fair, he did get busted in the past because someone walked in on him having a Villainous Conversation with another character, so maybe he was just counting that some hero was spying on him (which they were not) but…yeah, Fabian just lies to birds I guess. - And finally, ok, so, Fabian wants Exodus and Joseph to fight and destroy each other so he can take over the Acolytes, because I’m SURE they’ll just accept him again. To do this, he has to get Joseph to believe he is Magneto, and Exodus to be sure he is an imposter. To do this, he tells Joseph that Magneto and Amelia Voght were in love so it will look MEGA SUSPCIOUS to everyone if Magneto doesn’t show her affection. This was of course, not the case, so when Joseph kisses Magneto, it indeed makes Exodus think that this is NOT Magneto. EXODUS HAS TEARS IN HIS EYES. AND EXODUS IS NOT IN LOVE WITH AMELIA IN THE SLIGHTEST, SO. . . . -  - At the end, they put him in a prison, then return to find there’s just a big hole in the wall like a fucking Looney Toons skit. FABIAN, HOW DID YOU EVEN?! They debate going after him, but Joseph says “even Cortez couldn’t survive” out there in the snow. Meaning he first acknowledges that FABIAN IS A FUCKING COCKROACH (the “even” bit) and secondly confirming that EVEN JOSEPH, A MUCH NICER DUDE THAN THE REAL MAGNETO, DOES NOT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT FABIAN DYING Veering it back to Exodus, YES HE WAS DEFINITELY IN LOVE WITH EOBAR. And remember when Magneto was in the coma and Exodus was taking care of him? Magneto had on a robe and slippers, Exodus was DRESSING him, and the fact he gave him SLIPPERS means that he wanted Magneto to be ready to get up and walk at any given time ;-; Exodus claims Magneto speaks to him telepathically, but. . . I don’t believe that. But I believe Exodus believed it. And he gets SO MAD when the other Acolytes come and look at Magneto in his current state. I just. . .Exodus ;A;  Also remember a few years ago with Cullen Bunn’s run where he fights Magneto and Magneto puts him in a coma (Exodus’s default state lol) and it’s implied Magneto LET him win? And then Exodus comes back and brings Elixir to come heal him even though he knows Magneto won’t rejoin him? IM SO GLAD I HAVE SOMEONE TO TALK ABOUT THIS WITH BECAUSE IT IS SO THERE!!

[oboevallis]

lost

sorry this is so long, i don’t know if it really makes sense but i was talking with him grandmother and she told me this story about how we went to the beach with the family and we went walking and it was late and high tide and we got absolutely completely lost and she didn’t speak great english and had no phone and we were just walking trying to find the hotel which all look the same while everyone was looking for us and that kinda inspired this story (lol sorry i feel like i do a lot of stories based on events that have happened to me so idk if that’s boring or not ill stop talking now tho)

Amelia quietly slipped out of bed once she realized her son was awake and babbling to himself, and she knew if she didn’t quickly attend to him, he’d start wailing causing the rest of the house to wake up. As much as she savored her sleep she enjoyed the early morning feeds, no one else was up, allowing her to be solely focused on her son. She quietly slipped out the back door to get settled on the lawn chair, and was startled when she saw Maureen, almost forgetting the two had come to visit.

“Good morning.” Maureen smiled, nursing her thermos of coffee.

“Morning.” Amelia reciprocated settling in the chair next to her.

“Hope you don’t mind I came back here. Eric is in a work call and I tend to distract him, and I just found myself out here.”

“No not at all.” The neurosurgeon responded truthfully as she guided her son to her breast, which he eagerly latched onto. “Thanks again for taking the kids for the day, it was much appreciated.”

“Of course. We had a great time with them.” The older woman smiled kindly, putting Amelia at ease. She tried so hard to make a good impression on her boyfriends parents and now felt at ease knowing they thought she was good enough for their son. “I don’t know how you and Link do it, especially in a pandemic. I mean you can’t take em to the park, museum, or anything.”

“Me either.” The woman absentmindedly chuckled, she was just taking it a day at a time. The women turned around once hearing the door open to reveal the oldest child.

“Auntie Amelia, I have a proposition for you.” Zola smiled as she walked further into the backyard still in her pajamas.

“A proposition huh?” The woman chuckled, it always impressed her when her niece would use a vocabulary word out of reach for a girl her age in the proper manner.

“Yep, I think we should not do school today, stay in our pjs, build a fort in the living room, and have a movie marathon.” The girl announced jumping on the balls of her feet, as much as Amelia wanted to oblige she knew she couldn’t.

“We can this weekend, but I’m sorry we can’t just not do school.”

“Ugh, but mom would let us.” This caused Amelia to laugh.

“We both know your mom would not in any capacity let you miss school if you weren’t sick.”

“It was worth a shot.” Zola shrugged.

“It was, but I’ll let you pick what we have for dinner tonight.”

“Pizza?”

“You’ve got it.”

“Do you think Link will still help me with my report.”

“I’m sure he’d love to, just let him sleep a bit more and once he wakes up ask him.” Zola nodded and ran back into the house, Amelia sighed in relief there wasn’t a tantrum.

“You’re good with kids, especially remediating a situation.” Maureen commented, admiring the younger woman more.

“I try.” Amelia chuckles, Maureen has only seen the kids well behaved and not in their tantrum state.

“So, I hate to be blunt, but my son doesn’t tell me a thing, are the two of you planning on getting married?”

“Oh, umm.” Amelia blushed awkwardly shifting her son. “Not at the moment, we’re going to wait until things calm down a bit.”

“As long as it’s in the cards.”

“I think it will be.” The neurosurgeon smiled, thinking about Links plans to get married in the French Quarter of New Orleans.

________________________________________

Bailey had an hour break before his next Zoom started up, so Link took the opportunity to take him out on their daily walk and get his energy out around the block while he tried to lull his son. This time though his father tagged along, he still had a lot of resentment towards his parents but was trying his best to be civil.

“That kid almost has as much energy as you did before..” Eric trailed off, but Link knew what he meant. Before his cancer tore his family apart, and made him a shell of the kid he was,but he was determined to only talk about the good things.

“Yeah he keeps Amelia and I on our toes.” Link quickly said, so no talk of his cancer came up.

“I know your upset with your mother and I, but we just want to help. And rebuild our family.” The ortho surgeon did his best to not roll his eyes at the statement, he couldn’t understand why they couldn’t have worked it out in the first place, why they decided to track along across multiple states during a global pandemic, and why they had to keep freaking his girlfriend out with the concept of marriage.

“I really don’t have the energy to talk about this right now, why don’t we just change the subject.” Before Eric could agree his sons phone started to ring. “Crap this is the hospital, I’ve gotta go in. Bailey! We gotta get home” He called up ahead to the boy who was scootering.

“It’s alright I’ll keep walking with them.”

“You sure?” The man asked wearily.

“Of course you know me I love a good walk.” He took the baby out of his sons arms and Link wrapped the baby snug across the older mans chest.

“Thanks dad!” He smiled as he jogged back to the house to grab his car and head to the hospital, while Eric caught up along side of Bailey as he turned another corner.

________________________________________

After Amelia finished helping Ellis with her math homework she realized it had been well over an hour since the boys had gone for their walk it typically lasted 40 minutes and the house was wearily quiet. She made her way downstairs to be met with Maureen folding the pile of laundry.

“Oh I’m sorry, you don’t have to do that.”

“Please, I don’t mind.”

“Do you know where the boys are?” Amelia asked feeling her anxiety start to rise as there was no indication of them being home.

“I assume they’re still walking, they haven’t walked in yet.” The neurosurgeon pulled out her phone and tapped on her boyfriends contact to be met with a scrub nurse who informed her, he was in fact scrubbing in on an emergency surgery.

“Link is at work.” Amelia informed Maureen rather confused, Link always told her before he left the house, but assumed he was so excited by the notion of a surgery and left the boys with his father.

“I’ll try Eric.” Once the older woman dialed the number they heard ringing coming from the coffee table where he left his phone. “I’m always telling him he needs to carry his phone around, he’s terrible with remembering it.” The woman huffed obviously starting to get a little startled.

“Okay.” Amelia took a deep breath. “I’m going to go look for them, would you mind staying with the girls?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks.” Amelia quickly made her way towards the door and grabbed her keys from the hook, noting her boyfriend failed to bring the diaper bag as it was next to the door. Nonetheless she got into her car and tried the best to calm herself down, though all she could think about were worst case scenarios.

______________________________________

“Do you have any idea where we are?” Eric asked Bailey as he walked beside him, the boy had gotten tired and now just tracked the scooter along side them.

“No we usually don’t go this far.” Baileys fearless persona faltering, he assumed by this point he was late for class and was going to be in big trouble with his aunt and teacher.

“Everything kinda looks the same huh?”

“Yeah.” Bailey nodded nervously biting his nail, a habit he’d recently picked up from his aunt.

“Hey bud, it’s going to be fine we’ll find our way home.” Internally he was cursing himself for not bringing his phone along with him. After some more walking they found themselves on a street with convenience stores, Merediths house wasn’t far from the heart of Seattle but they were definitely far from where they were supposed to be. He was tempted to walk into a store and ask someone for directions but he didn’t have a mask and had two small children so that wasn’t an option. “Alright, let’s go back to that last street and make a left, maybe that right was a bad idea.”

“We’ll never get home.” Bailey said hopelessly.

“We will don’t worry about it.” And if things couldn’t get any worse the baby had started to fuss which in no time would turn into fill on crying.

Amelia slowly drove through the neighborhood looking for the three, not knowing she was on the opposite part of the neighborhood from them. Meanwhile after aimlessly walking and multiple turns Bailey started to recognize where they were and lead the way home.

“Where the hell have you been?” Maureen immediately asked as they walked through the door taking the now crying baby from her fiancé. “You need to have your phone on you!”

“Just strolling.” Eric responded nonchalantly.

“No we were lost. Really lost.” Bailey corrected as he ran into the kitchen to find something to eat since he missed lunch. Maureen followed taking out a bottle for Scout and calling her daughter in law informing her they were home, she heard a large sigh of relief through the other line.

Amelia happened to pull into the driveway the same time as Link, she wiped her stray tears as she had gotten herself into such a state and slammed her car door.

“Hey, where were you?” The ortho surgeon smiled brightly, he had just completed a rather simple surgery but just being in the OR at any capacity was heaven.

“Where was I? I don’t know, where was I?” Amelia chuckled on disbelief. “Where the hell were you? I spent two hours driving around trying to find your father and the boys.”

“What they never came home?” Link asked in a panic.

“They just did. They were lost and struggled to find their way home so they were aimlessly walking around while I aimlessly drove around in the wrong direction.”

“Damn it, how could my dad do this?” The man ran a stressed hand through his hair.

“This isn’t your dads fault it’s yours!”

“Huh?”

“Oh don’t act stupid. First you don’t even take the diaper bag in the walk with all the essentials and a first aid kit and then you up and leave for a surgery without even texting me.” The man was about to interject but Amelia held up her hand. “And you let your father continue the walk, even though the man has been to Seattle like two times and doesn’t know his way around.”

“I thought they were just gonna go the rest of the way up the block and back, and that he’d tell you where I went. That’s what Bailey and I do everyday.”

“Have you been living with Bailey for the past four months? Or has it just been me? Bailey will just keep riding that scooter no matter what and go any which way paying no attention to his surroundings, of course Eric is just gonna follow him around since it probably seemed he knew where he was going. You know what I can’t even look at you, I don’t want to say something I’m going to regret.” Amelia walked past him and quickly made her way into the house, to be met with her sons cries and quickly took the baby from Maureen cradling him closely, the baby immediately calming.

“I am so so sorry Amelia.” Eric apologized obviously upset.

“It’s not your fault.” Amelia forcefully smiled, she wasn’t entirely mad at him mostly at her boyfriend. Link then walked through the front door to be met with his mother scolding him.

“And what the hell were you thinking? Not telling anyone you were going to the hospital, and leaving your father with two kids in a place that’s foreign to him. Is surgery really all you can think about?” For the past couple of months he’d been complaining to his mother how much he hated not being able to operate.

“She would’ve done the same thing.” Link quickly pointed to his girlfriend who was cradling their son in the couch.

“What are we five?” Amelia asked when her boyfriend accused her in such a manner. “And I would’ve had the decency to tell you I was leaving and made sure you had the kids handled before I left.” Link backtracked and took a deep breath.

“Alright how about we just take a moment, they’ve been found so it’s fine.” The tired mother rolled her eyes and walked up the stairs with her baby, not in the mood for her boyfriends best case scenario talk.

“This could have been prevented by the both of you.” Maureen pointed to the two men who’s heads hung in shame.

“You should’ve made it clear to your father it was just up the block and back, and you should’ve texted the mother of your child.” She then directed her attention towards her husband. “And you need to pay more attention and keep your phone on you.”

“Sorry.” The two men answered in unison, ashamed to have messed up so greatly.

_______________________________________

The rest of the night was foreignly quiet, Bailey was exhausted and the couple was avoiding one another. After everyone had dinner together Maureen and Eric retreated back to the RV and the kids were all tucked in their beds. Once Link walked into the bedroom after his shower he sighed realizing Amelia wasn’t there. He quietly trekked into the nursery to be met with Amelia asleep in the rocking chair and her hand inside the crib, their sons hand was loosely holding her index finger. He would’ve smiled at the sight of he didn’t know what she was doing, her plan was to sleep in here tonight to avoid having to be in the same bed as him. He carefully removed her hand and picked her up out of the chair.

“Nooo.” Amelia sleepily groaned. “I’m sleeping in here.”

“No you’re not, your going to sleep in our bed.” He softly affirmed as he laid her down on her side of the bed. Once he moved to the other side of the bed and got settled his girlfriend was now wide awake and turned to face him.

“What happened today can never ever happen again.”

“It won’t I promise.”

“You know we’re so good at communicating within our relationship but not so great outside of it.” Link chuckled nodding in agreement. “You need to tell me when you get called in, and you need to let others know what the plan is, so they’re not getting lost in Seattle woth two small children.”

“I promise.” Link grabbed her hand in a reassuring manner. “I am so so sorry for what happened today, I was just so excited to be operating and I just lost my mind and didn’t think about anything outside of that operation.”

“I know this is hard for you, your not used to kids in the capacity that I am. You didn’t grow up in a loud house and you don’t have a large quantity of nieces and nephews. Your used to dealing with the occasional peds patient for like twenty minutes. I’m not saying your bad with kids I mean the peds floor loves you, it’s just this is a lot really quickly and non stop.”

“Wow you just articulated how I feel perfectly and I haven’t been able to even form a cohesive thought of what Im feeling.”

“Hmm, maybe that’s because you just sleep so you don’t have to think about feelings.” Link chuckled, sliding over to kiss her sweetly.

“I love you.” Link affirmed. “And I’m so sorry about today.”

“Tomorrow will be better.” Amelia agreed. “And I love you even more.”

“Impossible.”

[thewatsonbeekeepers]

Chapter 4 – It is always 1895 [TAB 1/1]

TAB is my favourite episode of Sherlock. It is a masterpiece that investigates queerness, the canon and the psyche all within an hour and a half. Huge amounts of work has been done on this episode, however, so I’m not going to do a line by line breakdown – that could fill a small book. A great starting point for understanding the myriad of references in TAB is Rebekah’s three part video series on the episode, of which the first instalment can be found here X. I broadly agree with this analysis; what I’m going to do here, though, is place that analysis within the framework of EMP theory. As a result, as much as it pains me, this chapter won’t give a breakdown of carnation wallpaper or glass houses or any of those quietly woven references – we’re simply going in to how it plays into EMP theory.

Before digging into the episode, I want to take a brief diversion to talk about one of my favourite films, Mulholland Drive (2001).

If you haven’t seen Mulholland Drive, I really recommend it – it’s often cited as the best film of the last 20 years, and watching it really helps to see where TAB came from and the genre it’s operating in. David Lynch is one of the only directors to do the dream-exploration-of-the-psyche well, and I maintain that a lot of the fuckiness in the fourth series draws on Lynch. However, what I actually want to point out about Mulholland Drive is the structure of it, because I think it will help us understand TAB a little better. [If you don’t want spoilers for Mulholland Drive, skip the next paragraph.]

The similarities between these two are pretty straightforward; the most common reading of Mulholland Drive is that an actress commits suicide by overdose after causing the death of her ex-girlfriend, who has left her for a man, and that the first two-thirds of the film are her dream of an alternate scenario in which her girlfriend is saved. The last third of the film zooms in and out of ‘real life’, but at the end we see a surreal version of the actual overdose which suggests that this ‘real life’, too, has just been in her psyche. Sherlock dying and recognising that this may kill John is an integral part of TAB, and the relationships have clear parallels, but what is most interesting here is the structural similarity; two-thirds of the way through TAB, give or take, we have the jolt into reality, zoom in and out of it for a while and then have a fucky scene to finish with that suggests that everything is, in fact, still in our dying protagonist’s brain. Mulholland Drive’s ending is a lot sadder than TAB’s – the fact that, unlike Sherlock, there is no sequel can lead us to assume that Diane dies – and it’s also a lot more confusing; it’s often cited as one of the most complicated films ever made even just in terms of surface level plot, before getting into anything else, and it certainly took me a huge amount of time on Google before I could approach anything like a resolution on it!

Mulholland Drive is the defining film in terms of the navigating-the-surreal-psyche subgenre, and so the structural parallels between the two are significant – and definitely point to the idea that Sherlock hasn’t woken up at the end of TAB, which is important. But we don’t need to take this parallel as evidence; there’s plenty of that in the episode itself. Let’s jump in.

Emelia as Eurus

When we first meet Eurus in TST, she calls herself E; this initialism is a link to Moriarty, but it’s also a convenient link to other ‘E’ names. Lots of people have already commented on the aural echo of ‘Eros’ in ‘Eurus’, which is undeniable; the idea that there is something sexual hidden inside her name chimes beautifully with her representation of a sexual repression. The other important character to begin with E, however, is Emelia Ricoletti. The name ‘Emelia’ doesn’t come from ACD canon, and it’s an unorthodox spelling (Amelia would be far more common), suggesting that starting with an ‘E’ is a considered choice.

When TAB aired, we were preoccupied with Emelia as a Sherlock mirror, and it’s easy to see why; the visual parallels (curly black hair, pale skin) plus the parallel faked death down to the replacement body, which Mofftiss explicitly acknowledge in the episode. However, I don’t think that this reading is complete; rather, she foreshadows the Eurus that we meet in s4. The theme of ghosts links TAB with s4 very cleanly; TAB is about Emelia, but there is also a suggestion of the ghosts of one’s past with Sir Eustace as well as Sherlock’s own claims (‘the shadows that define our every sunny day’). Compare this to s4 – ‘ghosts from the past’ appears on pretty much every promotional blurb, and the word is used several times in relation to Eurus. If Eurus is the ghost from Sherlock’s past, the repressive part of his psyche that keeps popping back, Emelia is a lovely metaphor for this; she is quite literally the ghost version of Sherlock who won’t die.

What does it mean, then, when Jim and Emelia become one and the same in the scene where Jim wears the bride’s dress? We initially read this as Jim being the foil to Sherlock, his dark side, but I think it’s more complicated than this. Sherlock’s brain is using Emelia as a means of understanding Jim, but when we watch the episode it seems that they’ve actually merged. Jim wearing the veil of the bride is a good example of this, but I also invite you to rewatch the moment when John is spooked by the bride the night that Eustace dies; the do not forget me song has an undeniable South Dublin accent.* This is quite possibly Yasmine Akram [Janine] rather than Andrew Scott, of course, but let’s not forget that these characters are resolutely similar, and hearing Jim’s accent in a genderless whisper is a pretty clear way of inflecting him into the image of the bride. In addition to this, Eustace then has ‘Miss Me?’ written on his corpse, cementing the link to Moriarty.

[*the South Dublin accent is my accent, so although we hear a half-whispered song for all of five seconds, I’m pretty certain about this]

Jim’s merging with Emelia calls to mind for me what I think might be the most important visual of all of series 4 – Eurus and Jim’s Christmas meeting, where they dance in circles with the glass between them and seem to merge into each other. I do talk about this in a later chapter, but TLDR – if Jim represents John being in danger and Eurus represents decades of repressed gay trauma, this merging is what draws the trauma to the surface just as Jim’s help is what suddenly makes Eurus a problem. It is John’s being in danger which makes Sherlock’s trauma suddenly spike and rise – he has to confront this for the first time – just like Emelia Ricoletti’s case from 1895 only needs solving for the first time now that Jim is back.

At some point I want to do a drag in Sherlock meta, because I think there’s a lot more to it than meets the eye, but Jim in a bride’s dress does draw one obvious drag parallel for me.

If you haven’t seen the music video for I Want to Break Free, it’s 3 minutes long and glorious – and also, I think, reaps dividends when seen in terms of Sherlock. You can watch it here: X

Not only is it a great video, but for British people of Mofftiss’s age, it’s culturally iconic and not something that would be forgotten when choosing that song for Jim. Queen were intending to lampoon Coronation Street, a British soap, and already on the wrong side of America for Freddie Mercury’s unapologetic queerness, found themselves under fire from the American censors. Brian May says that no matter how many times he tried to explain Coronation Street to the Americans, they just didn’t get it. This was huge controversy at the time, but the video and the controversy around it also managed to cement I Want to Break Free as Queen’s most iconic queer number – despite not even being one of Mercury’s songs. There is no way that Steven Moffat, and even more so Mark Gatiss would not have an awareness of this in choosing this song for Moriarty. Applying any visual to this song is going to invite comparisons to the video – and inflecting a sense of drag here is far from inappropriate. Moriarty has been subsumed into Eurus in Sherlock’s brain – the male and the female are fused into an androgynous and implicitly therefore all-encompassing being. I’m not necessarily comfortable with the gendered aspect of this – genderbending is something we really only see in our villains here – but given this is about queer trauma, deliberately queering its form in this way is making what we’re seeing much more explicit.

Nothing new under the sun

“The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun” (Ecclesiastes)

"Read it up -- you really should. There is nothing new under the sun. It has all been done before." (A Study in Scarlet, Sherlock Holmes)

“Hasn’t this all happened before? There’s nothing new under the sun.” (The Abominable Bride, Jim Moriarty)

This is arguably the key to spotting that TAB is a dream long before they tell us – when TAB’s case is early revealed to be a mixture between TRF (Emelia’s suicide) and TGG (the five pips), and we see the opening of ASiP repeated, we should be questioning what on earth is going on. This can also help us to recognise s4 as being EMP as well though – old motifs from the previous series keep repeating through the cases, like alarm bells ringing. Moriarty telling Sherlock that there is nothing new under the sun is his key to understanding that the Emelia case is meant to help him understand what happened to Jim, that it’s a mental allegory or mirror to help him parse it. This doesn’t go away when TAB ends! Moving into TST, one of the striking things is that cases are still repeating! The Six Thatchers appeared on John’s blog way back, before the fall – you can read it here: X. It’s about a gay love affair that ends in one participant killing the other. Take from that what you will, when John’s extramarital affection is making him suicidal and Sherlock comatose. Meanwhile, the title of The Final Problem refers to the story that was already covered in TRF and the phone situation with the girl on the plane references both ASiB and TGG, and the ending of TST is close to a rerun of HLV. It’s pretty much impossible to escape echoes of previous series in a way that is almost creepy, but we’ve already had this explained to us in TAB – none of this is real. It’s supposed to be explaining what is happening in the real world – and Mofftiss realised that this was going to be difficult to stomach, and so they included TAB as a kind of key to the rest of the EMP, which becomes much more complex.

However, if we want to go deeper we should look at where that quote comes from. I’ve given a few epigraphs to this section to show where the quote comes from – first the book of Ecclesiastes, then A Study in Scarlet. It’s one of the first things Holmes says and it is during his first deduction in Lauriston Gardens. This is where I’m going to dive pretty deep into the metatextual side of things, so bear with the weirdness.

[we’re going deeper]

Holmes’s first deduction from A Study in Scarlet shows that he’s no great innovator – he simply notices things and spots patterns from things he has seen before. This is highlighted by the fact that he even makes this claim by quoting someone before him. If our Sherlock also makes deductions based on patterns from the past, extensive dream sequences where he works through past cases as mirrors for present ones makes perfect sense and draws very cleverly on canon. However, I think his spotting of patterns goes deeper than that. Sherlock Holmes has been repressed since the publication of A Study in Scarlet, through countless adaptations in literature and film. Plenty of these adaptations as well as the original stories are referenced in the EMP, not least by going back to 1895, the year that symbolises the era in which most of these adaptations are set. (If you don’t already know it, check out the poem 221B by Vincent Starrett, one of the myriad of reasons why the year 1895 is so significant.) My feeling is that these adaptations, which have layered on top of each other in the public consciousness to cement the image of Sherlock Holmes the deductive machine [which he’s not, sorry Conan Doyle estate] come to symbolise the 100+ years of repression that Sherlock himself has to fight through to come out of the EMP as his queer self.

This is one of the reasons that the year 1895 is so important; it was the year of Oscar Wilde’s trial and imprisonment for gross indecency, and this is clearly a preoccupation of Sherlock’s consciousness in TFP with its constant Wilde references, suggesting that his MP’s choice of 1895 wasn’t coincidental. Much was made during TAB setlock of a newspaper that said ‘Heimish The Ideal Husband’, Hamish being John’s middle name and An Ideal Husband being one of Wilde’s plays. But the Vincent Starrett poem, although nostalgic and ostensibly lovely, for tjlcers and it seems for Sherlock himself symbolises something much more troubling. Do search up the full poem, but for now let’s look at the final couplet.

Here, though the world explode, these two survive

And it is always 1895

‘Though the world explode’ is a reference to WW1, which is coming in the final Sherlock Holmes story, and which is symbolised by Eurus – in other chapters, I explain why Eurus and WW1 are united under the concept of ‘winds of change’ in this show. Sherlock and John survive the winds of change – except they don’t move with them. Instead, they stay stuck in 1895, the year of ultimate repression. 2014!Sherlock going back in his head to 1895 and repeating how he met John suggests exactly that, that nothing has changed but the superficial, and that emotionally, he is still stuck in 1895.

Others have pulled out similar references to Holmes adaptations he has to push through in TAB – look at the way he talks in sign language to Wilder, which can only be a reference to Billy Wilder, director of TPLoSH, the only queer Holmes film, and a film which was forced to speak through coding because of the Conan Doyle estate. That film is also referenced by Eurus giving Sherlock a Stradivarius, which is a gift given to him in TPLoSH in exchange for feigning heterosexuality. Eurus is coded as Sherlock’s repression, and citing a repressive moment in a queer film as her first action when she meets Sherlock is another engagement by Sherlock’s psyche with his own cinematic history. My favourite metatextual moment of this nature, however, is the final scene of TFP which sees John and Sherlock running out of a building called Rathbone Place.

Basil Rathbone is one of the most iconic Sherlock Holmes actors on film, and Benedict’s costume in TAB and in particular the big overcoat look are very reminiscent of Rathbone.

Others have discussed (X) how the Victorian costume and the continued use of the deerstalker in the present day are images of Sherlock’s public façade and exclusion of queerness from his identity. It’s true that pretty much every Holmes adaptation has used the deerstalker, but the strong Rathbone vibes that come from Ben’s TAB costume ties the 1895 vibe very strongly into Rathbone. To have the final scene – and hopefully exit from the EMP – tie in with Sherlock and John running out of Rathbone Place tells us that, just as Sherlock cast off the deerstalker at the end of TAB (!), he has also cast off the iconic filmic Holmes persona which has never been true to his actual identity.

Waterfall scene

The symbol of water runs through TAB as well as s4 – others have written fantastic meta on why water represents Sherlock’s subconscious (X), but I want to give a brief outline. It first appears with the word ‘deeper’ which keeps reappearing, which then reaches a climax in the waterfall scene. The idea that Sherlock could drown in the waters of his mind is something that Moriarty explicitly references, suggesting that Sherlock could be ‘buried in his own Mind Palace’. The ‘deep waters’ line keeps repeating through series 4, and I just want to give the notorious promo photo from s4 which confirms the significance of the motif.

This is purely symbolic – it never happens in the show. Water increases in significance throughout – think of Sherlock thinking he’s going mad in his mind as he is suspended over the Thames, or the utterly nonsensical placement of Sherrinford in the middle of the ocean – the deepest waters of Sherlock’s mind. Much like the repetition of cases hinting that EMP continues, the use of water is something that appears in the MP, and it sticks around from TAB onwards, a real sign that we’re going deeper and deeper. I talk about this more in the bit on TFP, but the good news is that Sherrinford is the most remote place they could find in the ocean – that’s the deepest we’re going. After that, we’re coming out (of the mind).

Shortly after TAB aired, I wrote a meta about the waterfall scene, some of which I now disagree with, but the core framework still stands – it did not, of course, bank on EMP theory. You can find it here (X), but I want to reiterate the basic framework, because it still makes a lot of sense. Jim represents the fear of John’s suicide, and Jim can only be defeated by Sherlock and John together, not one alone – and crucially, calling each other by first names, which would have been very intimate in the Victorian era. After Jim is “killed”, we have Sherlock’s fall. The concept of a fall (as in IOU a fall) has long been linked with falling in love in tjlc. Sherlock tells John that it’s not the fall that kills you, it’s the landing, something that Jim has been suggesting to him for a while. What is the landing, then? Well, Sherlock Holmes fell in love back in the Victorian era, symbolised by the ultra repressive 1895, and that’s where he jumps from – but he lands in the 21st century. Falling in love won’t kill him in the modern day. What I missed that time around, of course, was that despite breaking through the initial Victorian layers of repression, he still dives into more water, and when the plane lands, it still lands in his MP, just in a mental state where the punishment his psyche deals him for homosexuality is less severe. This also sets up s4 as specifically dealing with the problem of the fall – Sherlock jumps to the 21st century specifically to deal with the consequences of his romantic and sexual feelings. There’s a parallel here with Mofftiss time jumping; back when they made A Study in Twink in 2009, there was a reason they made the time jump. Having Sherlock’s psyche have that touch of self-awareness helps to illustrate why they made a similar jump, also dealing with the weight of previous adaptations.

Women

I preface this by saying how incredibly uncomfortable I find the positioning of women as the KKK in TAB. It’s a parallel which is unforgivable; frankly, invoking the KKK without interrogating the whiteness of the show or even mentioning race is unacceptable. Steven Moffat’s ability to write women has consistently been proven to be nil, but this is a new low. However, the presence of women in TAB is vital, so on we go.

TAB specifically deals with the question of those excluded from a Victorian narrative. This is specifically tied into to those who are excluded from the stories, such as Jane and Mrs. Hudson. Mrs. Hudson’s complaint is in the same scene as John telling her and Sherlock to blame the problems on the illustrator. This ties back to the deerstalker metaphor which is so prevalent in this episode; something that’s not in the stories at all, but a façade by which Holmes is universally recognised and which as previously referenced masks his queerness. Women, then, are not the only people being excluded from the narrative. When Mycroft tells us that the women have to win, he’s also talking about queer people. This is a war that we must lose.

I don’t think the importance of Molly in particular here has been mentioned before, but forgive me if I’m retreading old ground. However, Molly always has importance in Sherlock as a John mirror, and just because she is dressed as a man here doesn’t mean we should disregard this. If anything, her ridiculous moustache is as silly as John’s here! Molly, although really a member of the resistance, is able to pass in the world she moves in in 1895, but only by masking her own identity. This is exactly what happens to John in the Victorian era – as a bisexual man married to a woman, he is able to pass, but it is not his true identity. More than that, Molly is a member of the resistance, suggesting not just that John is queer but that he’s aware of it and actively looking for it to change.

I know I was joking about Molly and John’s moustaches, but putting such a silly moustache on Molly links to the silliness of John’s moustaches, which only appear when he’s engaged to a woman and in the Victorian era. He has also grown the moustache just so the illustrator will recognise him, and Molly has grown her moustache so that she will be recognised as a man. In this case, Molly is here to demonstrate the fact that John is passing, but only ever passing. Furthermore, Molly, who is normally the kindest person in the whole show, is bitter and angry throughout TAB – it’s not difficult to see then how hiding one’s identity can affect one’s mental health. I really do think that John is a lot more abrasive in TAB than he is in the rest of the show, but that’s not the whole story. Showing how repression can completely impair one’s personality also points to the suicidal impulses that are lurking just out of sight throughout TAB – this is what Sherlock is terrified of, and again his brain is warning him just what it is that is causing John this much pain and uncharacteristic distress.

This is just about the loosest sketch of TAB that could exist! But TAB meta has been so extensive that going over it seems futile, or else too grand a project within a short chapter. Certain theories are still formulating, and may appear at a later date! But what this chapter (I hope) has achieved has set up the patterns that we’re going to see play out in s4 – between the metatextuality, the waters of the mind and the role of Moriarty in the psyche, we can use TAB as a key with which to read s4. I like to think of it as a gift from Mofftiss, knowing just how cryptic s4 would be – and these are the basic clues with which to solve it.

That’s it for TAB, at least in this series – next up we’re going ever deeper, to find out exactly who is Eurus. See you then?

[trulyinspiringmovies]

The Hitman’s Bodyguard

“The Hitman’s Bodyguard” is a perfectly serviceable action comedy film with a whole lot of violence and explosions.

Michael Bryce was a triple-A bodyguard who lost his prestigious title after failing to protect one of his clients. Because his girlfriend at the time, Amelia, was the only person who knew his client’s name, Michael blamed her for the smudge on his perfect record. This caused them to split up. A few years later, Amelia is tasked to transport a dangerous hitman named, Darius Kincaid, to testify against the corrupt dictator of Belarus named, Dukhovich. During the transport, the truck was ambushed which leads Amelia to believe that there’s a rat within Interpol. With nowhere to turn, Amelia asks Michael to defend Kincaid, a man who tried to kill Michael 28 times in the past.

If you’re looking for a fresh take on the buddy action comedy film genre, this isn’t your movie. However, that doesn’t mean this film doesn’t have any redeeming qualities. While the execution of this film was by-the-books, I still had a lot of fun watching it. For starters, Samuel Jackson and Ryan Renolds are a lot of fun to watch. They’re very funny and bounce off of each other with comedic flare. It’s hard not to laugh when they get into arguments. The action in this film was inspired. It’s like the movie embraced the absurdity of the situation, let go of realism, and decided to just show amazing and awesome action. This movie delivers on chemistry, comedy, and action. Also, Salma Hayek as Kincaid’s wife was a treat. She was menacing and funny all at the same time. That’s where the praise for this film really ends. The weakest character in this film was Dukhovich. He’s just written to be the stereotypical corrupt foreign leader who is trying to hold onto power through illegal means. There’s really nothing more to him than that. As I said, this movie isn’t a fresh take on the buddy-action comedy genre. That’s because this film doesn’t take too many risks. It plays out pretty much how you would expect it to. It’s so by-the-books that all of the numerous flashback scenes had to be obnoxiously tied back into the main plot no matter how convenient or forced it felt. Surprisingly, there was a lot of violence in this film. I’m not one to reject anything other than subtlety in my violence because I believe violence can be used well in movies. This film had the right idea with Dukhovich. He’s established to be a truly evil person by having him kill an innocent woman and child to prove a point. Then the violence gets gratuitous when the main protagonists consistently kill tons of people without even batting an eye. It just dilutes the impact of Dukhovich’s killings because it just becomes a normal part of this world that this movie is trying to create. All in all, I’m still excited to see the sequel to this movie, but I hope it steps up with the creativity of its plot.

★★★★

Watched on June 29th, 2021

[skepticbeliever-bookclub]

hello~ do you have any fics where one of them is SURE their love is unrequited, but plot twist! It isn't.

There’s a lot like this! Here’s just a sample of great pining/mutual pining/not-actually-unrequited love fics.

Paint Me Red - Anonymous | E, 2k, Complete

Ryan's workout ends earlier than expected. There's a new Zumba teacher and she's already started setting up. He drapes his towel over his neck, scrubbing his face as he heads out to his car.

Well, he supposes now it's their car.

Ryan and Shane had been living together for the past three months. A super nice condo had come up for sale near their breather office and if they split the rent, they could afford it. It wasn't quite the kitsch old-style suburban home Shane had been wanting, but it was one step closer to it. Plus they could carpool to work, saving Ryan money on gas and eliminating the need for Shane to shell out for a Lyft every day. It was a matter of convenience. It was a matter of frugality.

It was a matter of Ryan lying to himself about the significance of it all.

Just The Facts - austinflowers | E, 25.7k, Complete

Shane's belief system has always served him well.   Demons aren't real.  Ryan doesn't want to bang him.  But when something goes wrong during an investigation, suddenly all bets are off.

Be With Me, Darling, Early and Late - orphan_account | NR, 4.6k, Complete

5 times Shane calmed Ryan down with pet names, and the 1 time they weren't needed

Your Heart Inside of Mine - MiraclesofPaul | M, 51.3k, Complete

They're placed into the Witness Protection Program after a bomb was found on the set of Unsolved. The only way to stick together is to lie and say they’re engaged. Years go by. Things change. Things transform.

show me what i'm looking for - bodhirookes | E, 53.1k, Complete

What he gets instead is all those books and notes and some guy picking carefully through that fucking Sasquatch book and scribbling something down on one of the sheets Shane has probably put away and—

Shane momentarily loses his mind. Instead of taking the common sense route and hauling ass back to the help desk to get Sara or to hide, his stupid, long legs walk him up to the table and his stupid, smart aleck mouth makes him blurt out into the otherwise quiet library:

“If you think that the ghost of Richard Ramirez haunts the Cecil Hotel, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”

Or, Shane works at his university's library and, through a series of unfortunate events, meets Ryan Bergara, who believes in ghosts, not using a productive organization system for his notes, and that Amelia Earhart was abducted by aliens. Maybe most unfortunately, all of these things make Shane fall for him faster than Ryan can say: "The Whaley House is haunted."

Collide - needywitch | E, 35.3k, Complete

When Shane strides out from the history shelves, he turns towards the back table and hopes to see the usual piles of books and forgotten pages.

Ryan is desperately in love with his best friend.

fireflies where my caution should be - popkin16 | E, 36.3k, Complete

So he just...didn't.

Put a (Paper) Ring On It - Kika988 | T, 2.9k, Complete

Shane didn't mean to keep it a secret. By the time he'd thought about telling Ryan they'd been friends for a while, and how do you slip that into conversation? Too early and he'd have scared Ryan off. Too late, and he'd be upset because Shane didn't tell him sooner. It was too complicated and too personal for Shane.

Due to a series of regrettable alcohol-fueled decisions, everyone thinks Ryan and Shane are engaged - so they decide to just go with it and let the hype die down. After all, they're best friends, so it should be easy, right?

I've No Language Left to Say it - Steeella | T, 11.3k, Complete

In which Shane comes to terms with his feelings and learns how to voice them, all with a little help of a possible demon, common sense, and rather a lot of alcohol.

It's no good unless it grows - allredpen | M, 5.9k, Complete

The problem was, Shane didn’t know how to tell him how he felt, because Ryan was so beautiful and Shane didn’t how his words could ever come close. Shane didn’t know how to say beautiful things, they tended to get caught in his throat, too precious to him to be known to the world. He wished that there was a dialect, of summer storms and late-night movie theatres, things that reminded him of Ryan, so that his feelings would not fester in his heart until it was too late. He knew, of course, that is already was too late, otherwise he would not be spending his nights alone pining for the one person he could never have.  “I mean, you’re the one who told Sean we’d be taking a nap together.”

God, his heart was hammering in his chest, and he ached to roll over, away from Shane’s scrutiny, away from that physical presence looming tall over his own bed. Shane laughed softly, but he had inched forward, his knees bent and resting on the edge of the mattress. “Did I?” He asked, leaning forward to place his palms on the mattress. “I guess I did. Would you believe me if I told you it was the pie madness talking?”

In which Shane leads a horse to water, but Ryan makes it drink.

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