#and let's be real--this is made easier by the fact that john is a man

[direquail]

I think what bothers me most about how John is talked about in the fandom is the implication that a different (implied: better) person would've done things differently and somehow more right than he did.

When the text goes to lengths to explore how suddenly coming into an incredible amount of power in a fatally constrained situation cannot lead to a good outcome.

If you're putting John in dialogue with the concept of the "magical girl", which Muir has said he is (a little tongue in cheek, but)--these are young, often profoundly unready people, who often get taken advantage of by the people who give them their powers. And like, yes, John is not a teenager, but I think that's part of the point, is that at no point is a person really prepared to become as powerful as he did--even before he merged with Alecto. Even when he was fully in control of his powers, even when they were given with honest intent and trust, even when he used them with the best of intentions and tried to do the right thing, there was no way for him to be prepared, especially given the situation he was in.

And it's funny to talk about how bad John must be in bed, but also, this isn't a scenario where John is some self-deluding Elon Musk-like villain or loser. He is genuinely trying to do the right thing, in terms of rescuing the Earth's population, rescuing the Earth Herself, and doing it ethically (see: M--'s insistence that they perfect the cryo containers until they could transport pregnant women).

I really do think this is something people are blocking out, because it is one of the uncomfortable parts of Muir's message with the series. But ESPECIALLY because the people "critiquing" him as an embodiment of patriarchy and empire are failing to see that part of Muir's critique is of human vulnerability to power: That is, that power corrupts.

And this even has echoes with Gideon & Harrow's story! Harrow begins the series in a deeply unequal dynamic with Gideon! And she does horrible things, not just because she is traumatized, but because she is traumatized and has the power to act her desires out on Gideon. She might have the motive (trauma), but that's not enough without the means (power).

And, yeah, I do have a semi-salty angle on this because people are frequently loath to think critically not just about axes of oppression but individual relationships of power when it applies to them and to people they like. ESPECIALLY when there is a very vocal segment of the fandom that is enthusiastically pro-harassment. It's very convenient to villainize John and actively dis-identify with him, because otherwise, you'd have to face the question of whether you'd do any better in his place. But the thing is, the mission of revenge he embarks on is a lot closer to many peoples' hearts than they'd like to consider.

That's the whole point.

[miracletyrant]

Arthur Lester and living for someone else: an essay I dreamt up while I had the flu

First, some clarification: when I say living for someone else, I mean taking them into consideration in your life. It is not about catering unhealthily to them, or enslaving yourself to their whims. living for someone else is the difference between feeling love for someone and acting on it. It's about treating love as an action.

In episode 31, we learn a lot about Arthur's past. While Bella was giving birth, he said to James, "I can't live for someone else!" and he wasn't wrong. He loves Faroe, even if he didn't love Bella, but he didn't truly live for her. Don't get me wrong; he wasn't a neglectful father. He was kind to her and tried to spend time with her. Ultimately, he made few sacrifices for her, but not none.

Once she was gone and Parker had helped him restore his will to live, he found contentment. And this is the most important part; he wasn't unhappy living for himself, having no one worry about where he was or what he was doing, and having no one depend on him. He was fine.

But he wasn't thriving. Guilt and loss aside, he was living the life he would've, had he never gotten Bella pregnant. And yet, despite everything, despite knowing that he prefers a life lived just for himself, Arthur still said that the time he spent with Faroe--for Faroe, so to speak--was the happiest of his life. He didn't allocate much time to that selfless joy, the joy of telling fairy tales to his little girl, of dedicating time to her, but he was happier with her than he would've been without her. Happier carving out a piece of himself and giving it to her, sharing it with her, hollowing out a space in his world for her to be safe and loved in.

But he did cave to himself. He didn't dedicate as much to her as a father should, because he didn't want to live for someone else.

Cut to episode 20. This is a different Arthur than the man who fathered Faroe. This Arthur has lost absolutely everything, except John.

Arthur has made up his mind. He knows he can't beat the King in Yellow, but he also refuses to let him have John. He knows that John doesn't want to return to the King, and he knows John doesn't want to die. But John has no real agency over his fate, as he is trapped within Arthur. John can't fight back, and he can't run away. The only way he can be protected from those terrible fates is if Arthur puts himself aside entirely and thinks only of John.

So he does. He faces the King, knowing that he might die, knowing that he might fail, but completely unwilling to make a call that would doom John. And the King sees that. That's why, during the confrontation, he says to Arthur, "You despise me... and yet you love him."

That line. That beautiful, poignant line, spoken so contemplatively by the bloodthirsty god of madness. He seeks to understand Arthur, to manipulate him, to find his true intention, and that is what he finds. "You love him" means "You act singularly out of love for John, with his best interest at the core of your every decision."

He knows, because of this, that he has lost. So he chooses to take out his anger on Arthur instead.

It would've been easier for Arthur to give up while his bones were being broken. He was helpless to stop the torment, but he knew he had the knife. He could've killed himself once he realized that he was going to be subject to eternal torture, and it would've made sense. But he didn't. In fact, he begged John not to return to the King even while screaming in agony, even knowing that if John left, the pain would end. Because John's fate mattered more to him than his own. So long as he endured, John would live.

It wasn't until he realized that John was leaving, sacrificing everything for him, that he decided to kill himself. If John was doomed regardless, then this way, at least he would be free from the King. And if Arthur's motivation was at all unclear--perhaps he was sacrificing himself because of all the people the King would hurt once fully restored--he clarifies it later, in season 3.

"I died for you. For a fucking voice in my head, that stole my eyesight. I fucking died for that. Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?"

It does sound insane. But he doesn't even mention the even crazier thing he did; being willing to live for the voice in his head. To live through unfathomable agony and terror of the King's torture, just to protect John. Dying for him was his last resort, because he shares a body with him. Dying for John could only save him from something worse than death.

This means that in order to love John, Arthur has to live for him in every way possible. He has to care for himself in order to care for John. He has to do things he doesn't want to do--like maybe one day sit through a film he can't see--to care for John. Every single experience--good and bad--that he has brings John life and humanity, and every good thing he does shows John how beautiful the world can be. His patience and forgiveness helps John to grow his own sense of compassion.

The core beauty of their relationship lies within this, at least for me. Arthur Lester, a man unable to live for anyone but himself, is put in a position where everything he does has a potent effect on a lost fragment of an eldritch being. And despite what that being is, despite the bloodlust and violence of his entire existence, he slowly becomes someone so full of love and compassion that he can hardly stand to ignore a person in need. Even before growing close with Arthur, he knew compassion from his new desire to grow. He wanted Arthur to spare the wraith in season 1, because he wanted to know that monsters can be saved and redeemed. And he kept growing from there. John shed his first ever tears for an innocent animal. He looked through Arthur's cruel words in season 3 and understood that they were fueled by self-hatred, and he stuck by him and refused to let him drown in his darkest moments. He was willing to risk everything for strangers victimized by a terrible monster. He begged Arthur not to take the stone from Mr. Scratch, because in doing so, someone innocent would have to pay the price.

Of course he isn't perfect (ahem, that whole thing with Oscar), but he has been loved enough to be transformed completely. He has been loved enough to return that love, not only to Arthur, but to people he doesn't know. Because Arthur lived for him.

[12boogaloo]

Okay, I cant take it anymore. The brain rot is REAL

Been on a writing hiatus since 2019 or 2020 (I honestly don’t remember so don’t @ me)

And what gets me to finally start writing again?

You guessed it ladies, gents, and serpents!

Fucking TROLLS 3

Let’s get this bread or die trying y’all 😈

~•~

So first things first: I didn’t come up with the AU’s I’m using here! They were created by TheMiraculousMat and Keebsification on here and AO3

The AU’s in question are The Eldest and The Youngest and Out The Train Wreck

I just love it when people see John Dory and think “hmmm yes this grown man can fit so much eldest daughter energy in him” cuz SAME

So I thought: what if I just… put em together? OTT! JD and E&Y! JD have a grip on my soul and I’m filling a formal complaint in the form of fanfiction for not just 1, but 2 other pieces of fanfiction!!! Cuz why not

I’m gonna post the notes I’ve had about this idea for the past 2 week, at least the first part.

Well… it’s half notes, half chapter really…

Maybe. MAYBE. I’ll clean it up and post it on AO3. Maybe… probably lets be real

Anyway. Y’all can call me Boog and this is Project: Hyperfixation Won

Actual story name pending…

~•~

Part 1: Author’s Actual Notes because they are a nerd

Got an idea

Gonna scratch the itch

Half brain rot dump and half story here

Combination of the Eldest and Youngest JD and the Train Wreck JD

I also head canon that trolls have tails and claws and fangs

They’re lil creatures

Basically the same stuff happens in TW with the manager and John being Branch’s father.

Branch grows up knowing JD is his dad while everyone else thinks they’re brothers.

He and Luka are dating. He’s basically Branch’s other dad.

Luka gets taken and John thinks he died. He keeps his glove to remember him.

The fight still happens. John still leaves but promises Branch that he’ll come back.

He goes to the Neverglades for the next four years.

When he gets a letter about Rosiepuff and Branch he immediately heads back to the tree to take care of him.

Pretty much all of E&Y happens but with the change of Branch knowing JD is his dad.

Makes the trauma of him leaving worse in a way which adds to the angst of the first parts delicious, but it also makes their bond really solid later on.

John forgot that everyone in the village knew them as brothers until Poppy asks him if John is Branch’s daddy out of the blue. He panics and says “no” on instinct and they both decide to just go with it. Easier than explaining it to everyone.

She still doesn’t know. Nobody does.

John still loses his arm trying to save Creek(nasty ass).

One morbid silver lining John felt was that at least it wasn’t the hand he wore Luka’s glove on. Small miracles. Lol I’m sorry

Branch doesn’t remember Luka anymore, at least not really. He sorta remembers a burgundy haired troll that he thought was important but couldn’t remember anything else about them so he didn’t think too much about it.

John doesn’t really like talking about him and Branch hasn’t ever asked so he doesn’t bring it up.

He starts dating Hickory and he does tell him about Luka. He admits that while he definitely is falling for Hickory, a part of him will always belong to Luka and their relationship will always be really important to him.

Hickory is more than okay with that and even tells him that he would’ve loved to have met the man that made his sweetheart so happy and kept him safe before it was his turn. (John just about cried when he said that same buddy and agreed that they’d probably get along pretty well.)(He shows Hickory pictures of him and Luka one day and they laugh over the fact that John clearly has a type.)(And, based on Hickory’s own light blush, same.)(He immediately said Luka was ‘real cute’ and John still laughs at him for it.)

He also tells him about Bold and how Branch came to be. (Hickory spent solid hours comforting him afterwards and spent an equal amount of time thinking of ways he could get Dickory to help him torture the bastard if he ever saw him.)(He decides in that moment that he’d do anything to protect his boyfriend and his son. Anything.) (He’s also even more grateful to Luka when he hears about how he protected his love the day they met. He really wishes he could thank him…)

Branch makes jokes about not calling Hickory his stepdad till they get married, which makes John flush bright blue. (Hickory just laughs and winks, the traitor.)(Hickory secretly really wants Branch to call him ‘Pops’ and he’s so obvious about it.)(Branch finds it hilarious and doesn’t on purpose. He’d actually love to call him that, he’s just being an ass.)(You’d think he wouldn’t ever want to but no. For some reason, it’s only thinking of Hickory as ‘Papa’ specifically that makes him feel wrong. Like that’s not available to him. I wonder why.)

After saving Floyd, the boys all start spending more time together as a family. Floyd and Clay move into the bunker with John and Branch. Bruce still lives on Vacay Island but he tries to visit at least once a week, even bringing his wife and kids with him if he can.

They still love doing shows together and will do a big one every two weeks at least.

A few months later, they’re getting ready to hangout together after a performance in PopVillage. Hickory isn’t with them, he was actually watching with Tiny in the crowd, so he can’t see them.(Lil dude is really attached to his “Uncle Cowboy” and “Uncle Johnny” it’s adorable.)(And yes Guy is close by, Tiny is still very very grounded.)

Poppy wants to introduce them to a former stage manager that she’s worked with before that had come to see the show from TrollCity. Branch has met him once before and thought the guy was weird and a little creepy but nothing else made him feel suspicious so he kinda just ignored it. He figured if Poppy trusted him, it was fine. (Obviously he still kept an eye on the old bastard, cause your boy isn’t paranoid for nothing. And you never know.)

They all agree to meet and when they get backstage… it’s him.

Bold.

The bros old manager. The man who hurt their eldest unimaginably.

JD basically shuts down as his younger brothers immediately shield him from view.

They need to get out of here without causing a scene. Fast.

“Poppy, I think we need to go…” Floyd mumbles, his usually soft features twisting in both anger and slight fear as he stared the old troll down.

Poppy looks at them in confusion, “Wha- but you guys said you wanted to see everything we set up!!” She looks between the brothers and the older manager, Branch joining her as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry, kids, I don’t think we can do that…” Bruce doesn’t take his eyes off of the old man as he steps back, closer to Clay and Floyd who were holding John Dory’s arms and hands to keep him steady in their safety bubble, their tails wrapped around his waist. “Not when he’s here.”

Poppy blinks in confusion. “What do you mean? Have you met Mr. Bold before?” She asks.

The old bastard chuckles. “Don’t worry, Miss Poppy.” Poppy huffs a bit at being called ‘miss’. (She’s Queen, dammit. Only Hickory calls her ‘miss’ and it’s always as a joke.) “I was the boys’ manager back in the day! It’s just been a while since we’ve seen each other.” He looks over each brother, clearly trying to get a look at John Dory and noticeably souring when he’s blocked. Then he smirks, taking a few steps closer, his wooden cane thunking against the floor. John flinches with each tap, tap, tap. “You’ve all grown up so much.”

Bruce holds his ground, crossing his arms and rolling his shoulders, his bigger body blocking most of JD from view. Clay was growling behind him, both him and Floyd curling closer to John and their ears pressed back in irritation. Bruce gives a humorless chuckle. “Heh. Yeah, we’ve grown up, Bold. We grew up and you’re fucking old now.”

Poppy gasps. “B-Bruce, that’s not nice!” She turns to Bold and smiles nervously. “I’m so sorry-“

The man waves her off. “Don’t fret. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. He’s right after all.” He looks at them again all smugly, leaning on his cane. “Like I said, it’s been a long time.”

Floyd scoffs. “Not long enough.” He growls, baring his teeth. His claws start coming out and he’s thankful he’s holding John’s prosthetic arm as he feels them scratch the metal.

“Woah, okay, what the hell is up with you guys?” Branch finally steps in. That was so unlike Floyd to say something like that. He’s never seen the older troll that angry before, he’s never seen any of his uncles that angry before.

Bruce huffs. “What’s up is that we’re leaving. Now.” He goes to turn around to start steering his brothers out of the room when he hears Bold chuckle, making them all freeze.

“You all really have changed so much,” He says, his tail swaying side-to-side behind him. John looks up and they manage to lock eyes, Bold smiling sickly as John stares in horror. “Especially you, Johnny Baby.”

John feels sick. He feels like he’s gonna pass out. He feels his legs start giving out as Clay and Floyd rush to hold him up. He feels his body going completely limp and his vision blurs and his chest hurts and he can’t breATHE-

Bruce tackles the old troll, immediately landing brutal hits to the bastards face. He screams between punches, “DON’T TALK TO MY BROTHER!” Bold tries to hit him back, only managing to smack Bruce in the side once with his cane before continuing to get pummeled.

Branch and Poppy jump in frantically to pull him off of the man and the three of them stumble back. Bruce shoves them off and glares at Bold again. He was lying on the ground, groaning and clutching his nose, there were scratches and bruises on his face and he was covered in his own glittery copper blood. “Stay. The FUCK. Away. From John.” Bruce pants and shakes out his hands, flexing his exposed claws. He spits on the ground. “Bastard.” He turns back to his brothers. “Cmon, let’s get out of here.” He lifts JD up bridal style and Clay and Floyd follow him as he starts rushing to the door.

“Wait, hold on!” Branch runs after them, leaving Poppy standing in confused horror at what just happened.

~•~

That’s what I’ll give for now lol

I have like wayyy more written out but I’m mean so 😈

Anyway

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

Lmk what y’all think ig

Check out the folks that created these AU’s plz @matmiraculous and Keebsification (idk their tumblr so plz don’t yell at me) both on AO3 where I found them

Later yall

[cod-dump]

I’m Not Simon Riley, I’m Ghost

Chapter 1

SoapGhost

(Featuring eldritch monster Ghost) ___

Ghost is not Simon Riley. Simon Riley was a opportunity that Ghost took. Ghost built his walls tall and strong, he didn’t plan on letting anyone inside. But Soap manages to get in and make Ghost question everything. ___ (Eldritch Horror Ghost that no one asked for)

TW: Gore, Sexual Content, Canon Typical Violence, Slow Burn

___

When Simon Riley died, he really did die. Ghost is not Simon Riley. Sure, he has his memories, also inhabits his old body, but he isn’t Simon Riley. In the beginning, he pretended to be Simon so he could merge into the human world easier. But, he isn’t Simon Riley: He’s Ghost.

This human body was a means to an end. He has disguised himself as a human, he has successfully merged into their world. The only potential tell that he wasn’t what he seemed to be was his face. They appear to be scars, but they’re not. A glasglow smile and a split down his bottom lip and down his chin. He managed to convince Price that they were wounds from when the cartel tortured him. But, in reality, they were apart of his lips. He had to be careful when talking to someone, anyone, in the off chance he opened his mouth too wide.

He only ever had to kill one person because he accidentally revealed too much. Roach was a good man but Ghost couldn’t trust him to keep the truth a secret. So he killed him, disposed of the body (by eating it), then waited out until the investigation of Roach’s disappearance toned down. Ghost did have regrets killing Roach, he did actually like him. But he couldn’t trust him. He couldn’t.

You may be asking: Why did Ghost merge himself into Simon Riley’s life? Well, like most creatures of Ghost’s world, he came to this world to feed. Humans are delicious, but they had advanced drastically since the Dark Ages and became quite capable of killing his kind. Ghost couldn’t outright kill them in a… Average setting.

Simon Riley’s body was a opportunity. Playing soldier was the perfect disguise. He was expected to kill. Sometimes he would be expected to go dark and just disappear. As long as he returned with what Simon Riley’s superiors wanted (etc. information), they would let him do whatever. Sure, in the beginning Simon Riley wasn’t known as the infamous lieutenant; That was Ghost’s doing.

Ghost built Simon Riley up as a fearless, deadly soldier who would do anything for his cause. He was the reason Simon Riley was so feared and respected. Simon Riley was the face, but Ghost was the unstoppable force driving his reputation. Ghost doubted Simon Riley would’ve been able to make it this far himself. (He died by suffocating in that coffin). Digging himself out, hunting the cartel to be his first real meal since taking over as Simon Riley.

Ghost, in this early stage of his new life, did not have the same emotional attachments as Simon Riley. The man’s family meant nothing to him. In fact, they were a threat. They would’ve been able to figure out that he wasn’t Simon Riley, they had the potential to ruin everything. So he got rid of them. Killed them, ate parts of them, then burned everything down and blamed the cartel.

By blaming the cartel, he gave Simon Riley the motive to kill. To get more food. By the time the last of the cartel died, by the time he was found by John Price, he was written off as a very traumatized, disturbed individual suffering from PTSD and mental illness. The perfect cover.

He gained John Price’s sympathy with this cover, made him like him. Years go by building his relationship with John Price and becoming established as the Ghost; He finds himself in a perfect position to continue to feed without fear. Then that fucking Scotsman came along and flipped everything upside down.

Since Roach, Ghost did well not to let anyone get too close to him. He didn’t want to risk exposing himself and ruining this life that the rest of his kind envy. The humans around him learned not to bother trying to befriend him; It was pointless. It was like a unspoken law amongst all of them that Ghost was not looking for friends. But John “Soap” MacTavish apparently didn’t get the memo.

From the start he was smiling, joking, annoying. He was actually charming and Ghost hated it with all his being. Soap (What the fuck kind of name is Soap?) seemingly was determined to become Ghost’s friend. And no matter how Ghost pushed and built up walls, Soap pushed back and climbed. Ghost was glad that he made the decision long ago to wear a mask, because he knows Soap would’ve made him slip up by this point. Soap would’ve become another Roach if he didn’t have a mask to hide behind.

No one said anything about how Soap seemingly outright ignored Ghost’s hostility. Well… Except for Phillip Graves. Ghost overheard him talking with Soap about him. It was easy to do considering Ghost had excellent hearing (it paid off being able to hear your prey’s heartbeat while it tried to hide from you). He was able to listen in on their conversation when they were loading up.

“Doesn’t he feel off to you?”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t get the heebie jeebies around that guy. Something isn’t right about him.”

Soap looked over at Ghost and Ghost pretended he was busy checking his gun and that he didn’t notice. Soap never answered Graves. Meeting Alejandro and Rodolfo went smooth. Though Rodolfo eyed him in a similar manner to what Graves did upon their first meeting. It was like they could feel that Ghost wasn’t human but had nothing to back it. Humans here and there were able to feel Ghost’s true nature, but they are almost always unable to immediately pinpoint what he is without seeing him open his mouth a tad bit too wide.

While in Las Almas, Soap persisted as a menace to Ghost’s cover. Even after Alejandro and Rodolfo attempted to be friendly with him and quickly discovered that it would get them no where, Soap still kept up the friendly banter. Ghost found himself being… Charmed? Ghost could try to compare Soap to Roach but in truth they weren’t that much alike.

Roach would’ve backed off after the first time Ghost gave him the cold shoulder. He wouldn’t have joked like he had known Ghost, like they were the best of friends, after the first glare. Soap was fearless, brave. It was like he saw Ghost’s walls as a challenge and started to climb even as Ghost continued to build them up. When Graves betrayed them, when Ghost had gotten separated from Soap. He panicked.

Not once during his time as Simon Riley has he ever panicked over something. He wasn’t afraid of a Shadow offing him. He could handle them easily. He was actually worried about Soap. And when he noticed that he was worried as he made his way to the church, as he continued to radio to Soap and do everything but beg that he confirm that he was still alive, the realization had hit him. He kept telling himself he was building his walls up and up, that he was alone within them. But Soap had managed to slip away inside already, somehow.

”Fuck.”

Ghost actually felt joy for the first time by someone being alive. Soap being alive actually gave him joy! He never had such a attachment to a human before. Not even John Price was so highly regarded and Ghost tolerated him the most. Or so he thought. 

Ghost knew that Soap was hurt. Knew that he could easily be killed (and for once he cared whether or not a human died) and did his best to keep him alive from afar. As Soap fought and made his way through Las Almas, Ghost ate. He was good at leaving no trace, but he didn’t have the time or luxury of making a whole body disappear. But he was too hungry to just not take something from each body.

As he tore off a arm of a Shadow and feasted on the flesh, his mask tucked into his waistband. He let his guard down for a moment. A shot to the shoulder made him drop his snack, his arm going limp. He quickly turned and hissed, sharp teeth bares and eyes completely black, jaws spread wide to reveal how far down his throat his teeth went. The Shadow that shot him screamed and shot again and again as Ghost lunged at him. Ghost tore through his neck, drinking blood as the Shadow drowned on his very life force.

Ghost dragged the latest body into a supply closest to hopefully feast on without further interruptions. He also took the time to fix out the bullets out of his shoulder. The feeling was slowly returning in his arm but it wasn’t pretty much useless at the moment. Not that it hindered Ghost too much, he was still quite capable of killing any Shadow that crossed his path. But it was still an annoyance to be down a arm. So he focused on healing by eating every bit of the Shadow that shared the closet with him.

”Are you ugly?”

”Quite the opposite.”

Ghost made the habit to rarely show his face to anyone for the past several years since Roach. He hasn’t had anyone comment on his appearance for years, he wasn’t sure how Simon Riley’s face was perceived. What humans found attractive tended to slip past his understanding considering what Ghost’s kind found attractive always related to what they were capable of, their rank, territory, and, yes, personality. He never went off if someone was attractive or not by their appearance. If his kind did that, no one would be making babies.

Giving Soap the idea that he was attractive didn’t hurt considering he never planned on showing the man his face. Never. He would sooner tear the man apart and eat him like he did Roach rather than bare himself to him.

After several bad jokes shared between him and Soap, Ghost was back on his feet. He continued making his way to the church, and when he got there, a realization came to him. 

Soap was bound to find a body.

Ghost was sloppy. He did get radioed from Soap about finding one of his knives. He expected something indicating about the state of the body he found the knife in. But he didn’t say a word. Ghost tried to brush off his worry and tell himself that Soap found the knife in one of the very few bodies that Ghost didn’t eat from. He was clueless, he didn’t know.

When they finally regrouped, Soap just smiled as they jumped in the truck and drove to Alejandro’s safe house. Soap did notice Ghost’s shoulder which was bloody and his sleeve torn.

”You didn’t tell me you got hit.”

”I’ve had worse. It’s no worse than the one you have.”

But it was worse. Soap was still using his arm much more than what Ghost would’ve been able to if he was human. They got to the safe house and secured the area before settling and patch their wounds. Ghost helped Soap with his. And when Soap wasn’t looking, he tasted the man’s blood that had gotten on his fingers. Ghost had to restrain himself from moaning at the absolutely delicious flavor of Soap. The man was a literal beam of sunshine, inside and out.

Ghost regretted tasting Soap almost as soon as his blood touched his tongue. It felt like he was violating Soap. And he never had such feelings before. He felt ashamed for tasting him. As he felt this shame, he then felt horror. What the fuck was wrong with him? Since when did fucking Ghost ever feel ashamed about violating a human? Since when did Ghost care about such a thing? He, a force that had consumed entire human villages. He who killed and ate Simon Riley’s family whilst masquerading as the man. He who killed and ate someone who considered him a friend after seeing his face.

Ghost had to push away his thoughts and focus on the task at hand. He had a mission to complete if he wanted to keep his comfortable life. He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there thinking about his changing nature, but it was apparently long enough for Soap to pass out from blood loss and pure exhaustion and lean against Ghost. Ghost almost freaked before he reasoned with himself. Soap wasn’t at risk of bleeding out. The wound had been secured and was now on the path to recovery.  Ghost went to shove off Soap when he stopped at the look at Soap’s face. The look was calm, full of trust. Ghost remembered one time someone looked at him with complete trust, and he had killed him. Ghost decided after several minutes of staring that they could rest for a couple hours before heading out.

Ghost didn’t sleep often. It was one of the few times he became vulnerable. He wasn’t a light sleeper by any means. When he did sleep, it was near impossible to wake him up without resorting to physical violence. He picked up the reputation of being a light sleeper because he would pretend to sleep around the human soldiers to keep up appearances of being human himself. Price once told him he woke up like he was prepared to start fighting right there. Ghost told him he simply couldn’t sleep soundly without being behind a heavily locked door.

With this being said, somehow Ghost managed to fall asleep here. Here in unfamiliar territory, exposed, with a man leaning (cuddling) against him who could wake up any moment and attack him. Ghost fell asleep faster than he ever did in his own room despite the obvious discomfort of being on a not so comfortable couch and with a hole in his shoulder that still hurt like a bitch. Ghost fell asleep, and he briefly remembered resting his head on top of Soap’s before lights went out.

He woke with a start, almost like his body realized he fell asleep like an idiot. His hand goes to his gun as he looks around, discovering that Soap wasn’t beside him anymore. Instead, he was at the kitchen table eating something. The man took notice and after they stared at each other for a solid thirty seconds Soap offered what he was eating to Ghost.

”Biscuit? It’s only hard as a rock.”

Ghost shakes his head and stands. His arm was practically healed thanks to his unexpected nap.

”C’mon, LT. Gotta eat something.”

”I’m good. I’ll eat later.”

Soap shakes his head, “You’ll need your strength considering we’re just getting started with this shit. Actually, don’t think I’ve seen you eat once since we got here.”

Ghost never ate in front of anyone. Mostly because there was no appeal to human food and he rather not show anyone his face. Price chalked it up to Ghost not liking anyone seeing his scars. Ghost went along with it.

”Not hungry. Get ready to leave.”

Ghost sees Soap fucking pout and that strikes him right in his black heart. Ghost leaves to check on the truck before Soap could protest further. Once he was outside, he groans. Fuck fuck fuck. He slams his fist into the door of the truck, leaving a dent. He breathes for a moment before he straightens himself out and starts to prepare to go free Alejandro, get in contact with Price, and make Graves pay for his betrayal.

[janeofcakes]

Persistence 2: Chapter 5

Back again, my friends. So sorry for the delay. Delta and the City of Boston didn’t want me to leave.

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

Whatever John expected time travel to be like was nothing like reality. Reality. The idea was almost laughable. Stephen had said it was somewhat uncomfortable the first few times, prompting John’s joke about not doing it enough to get used to it. It had earned him a rather Sherlockian side glance that said, “John, don’t be an idiot.” Stephen had opened the portal immediately thereafter and they stood before it side by side. John stared in awe. It was a circle of crackling light that gave way to a sort of sparkling darkness framed in gold. 

John was mesmerized for a moment or two until his reverie was broken by the warm feeling of Stephen’s hand gripping his own. John furrowed his brow and looked down at their joined hands. Stephen eyed him warily and warned him not to let go for anything. John nodded silently, adrenaline already washing through his body. Stephen held his eye for a moment, sizing him up to make sure he was ready. The next thing John knew, the man had tugged him in.

John was surrounded by darkness for a split second and then pulled off his feet. His body sped through the nothingness, a universe full of stars and swirls of colorful paint rushing around him. His ears were assaulted by a loud sucking sound that seemed intent on removing his brain by way of the very canals that let him hear it. His body felt light as air, flying fast as lightning, and yet weighed down by the inertia of forces pulling from every direction.

John wanted to close his eyes, but could not tear them from all the sights they flew past. There were doorways all around, as far as the eye could see, but they were nothing like conventional doorways. Each one was a gaping hole John could almost see into and yet, he couldn’t make out a thing inside any. He and Stephen were moving too quickly. So quickly, in fact, that John’s face was beginning to feel oddly pained. His skin was stretching, lengthening as though his body was spinning down a drain like water. It made John’s whole body ache until nothing felt real, save Stephen’s hand in his own. Desperate for something grounding, something normal, John tightened his already clenched fingers around Stephen’s longer ones. John felt a strong squeeze in reply and finally forced his eyes shut.

Suddenly, the world went quiet. It was more jarring than stepping into the portal had been. Slowly, John began to detect a solid mass under each of his feet. The sucking sound and pain in his body were gone. He still felt Stephen’s hand in his and it was soon joined by the feeling of gravity pulling on his limbs. Spurred on by this, John opened his eyes slowly to see himself standing in the sitting room of 221B in almost the exact place the two of them had been when Stephen opened the portal. John’s dark blue eyes shifted around the room easily enough, but the energy required to move his head was beyond his reach at the moment. His skin was tacky, the vest beneath his jumper clinging to his chest and back. A bead of sweat trickled down from his right temple as Stephen appeared in his line of sight.

“John,” the man’s voice was unusually loud in the silence, “you okay?”

John took a breath to answer and fell to his knees, suddenly exhausted. Stephen went down with him and held his shoulders to provide some stability. A new sheen of sweat coated John’s skin, his breaths coming fast and harsh. He grimaced as though in pain.

“It’s all right. You’re all right,” Stephen soothed, his voice a more acceptable volume now. “It always happens the first time. It’s like motion sickness. Just give yourself a minute.”

John closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his breathing, on the feel of the solid floor beneath his knees. As his inhalations began to slow, the world around him also began to feel more real. His limbs were easier to move as the exhaustion drained from his body. All the while, he could hear Stephen’s comforting words and feel his steady hands on his shoulders. When John opened his eyes, the man’s friendly smirk was the first thing he saw.

“Better?” came the smooth baritone in that American accent. “It never lasts long.”

“Christ,” John croaked. “You could’ve warned me.

“I did,” Stephen countered.

“More explicitly,” John huffed, his eyes wide and incredulous. “Listed the side effects, maybe.”

“No, not really,” Stephen said doubtfully. “It’s worse if you try to anticipate it.”

John rolled his eyes and stood, waving off Stephen’s attempts to help. He glanced around the flat and let out a frustrated huff.

“Wasn’t even worth it,” John grumbled, “We’re right back where we started.”

“Are we?” Stephen asked, thoroughly entertained. 

John glared. He considered punching the smug smile off the tall man’s face, but something caught his eye before his lips could form the preferred curses and he stopped dead. John’s jaw went slack, his eyes wide as he stared at the wall. The clock over Sherlock’s desk was gone, replaced by the old cow skull, headphones and all. John had packed it away shortly after the detective’s death, just as he had all of the things that reminded him of his husband. The pain of being surrounded by Sherlock’s things was too much to bear. The human skull on the mantle was the one exception. It seemed wrong not to keep it in place, like shutting out an old friend.

John let out a long sigh as his stunned gaze slid down the wall to the desk, still covered with a mess of paper and case files, Sherlock’s open laptop in the middle of the melee. John’s eyes flew to the well-worn chair near the fireplace next, and a half-drunk cup of tea on the small table beside it. His eyes went to the mantle next and it was all there, just as he remembered it. The skull, a few sheets of paper pierced by a knife, the Persian slipper that hid a few cigarettes John wasn’t supposed to know about, everything. John’s gaze shifted again to the chair that always sat near the window that looked down onto Baker Street and it was there: Sherlock’s beloved violin case. John staggered past Stephen and opened it gingerly to see the instrument itself cradled in its velvet lining. Its bow latched securely in the case lid.

John swallowed around the lump in his throat. He and Stephen were actually in the flat from eight months ago. The portal had worked. Contrary to all logic, they had truly gone back in time. Sherlock was in London somewhere, heading for Bart’s and Moran.

John looked out the window, but a glimmer of something caught his eye. He fixed his gaze down at the glowing green bands of light hovering around his left wrist. They were covered with very intricate markings, some language John supposed. Stephen had told him before they entered the portal that the time stone would use such bands as these to tether them in the past. They must not break or remove them, lest they suffer the consequences. John held out his hand, fingers splayed and wrist twisting slowly while he stared in wonder until Stephen’s voice drew his attention.

“The time is near,” the man’s face was serious. “We have to go.”

“Right,” John replied with a nod and a stern expression. “Let’s go.”

John led the way out of the flat and down the stairs, clenching his jaw when he heard the door to 221A open as they drew near. He had hoped to pass by without incident, but his cheerful landlady emerged beside them as they stepped down onto the entryway floor. She greeted them with a wide smile and a touch on the arm John didn’t have hidden behind his back. Stephen had done the same to keep her from seeing their surreal bracelets.

“John, I’m surprised to see you, dear,” Mrs. Hudson glanced at Stephen curiously as she spoke. “I thought I just heard you leave.”

“It must’ve been me coming in,” Stephen answered with a warm smile.  Mrs. Hudson looked back at John and he could see the questions in her eyes.

“This is Stephen,” John offered, gesturing at the man. “He’s a friend, a doctor. We met at the surgery not long ago.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Hudson exclaimed as she took Stephen’s right hand in both of hers. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Hudson,” Stephen charmed the older woman. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope,” she  chuckled.

“Could there be anything else?” Stephen joked, making no move to retrieve his hand from hers as they laughed.

“It’s good to see you bringing friends to the flat, John,” Mrs. Hudson turned to John. She looked back at Stephen wryly. “These boys haven’t brought anyone by in ages.”

“And this is why,” John couldn’t help teasing. “They’d never make it past the sentry without being forced to take a tin of biscuits.”

“Oh, hush,” Mrs. Hudson waved a hand and scolded him. “Force them, indeed.”

“I’m more than happy to accept biscuits,” Stephen interjected, “for the record.”

Mrs. Hudson laughed and the two men joined her. Nostalgia hit John so suddenly he nearly stumbled with its impact on his mind. He hadn’t had a good talk or laugh with his landlady since Sherlock had died. She was like a mother to both of them. John could say he avoided her because she reminded him of Sherlock, but that wasn’t the real reason. Mrs. Hudson was the one person who could open the floodgates and get him to talk about Sherlock. John just wasn’t ready for that, even after all this time. Ella had said he made great strides and he had. He had managed to tell her everything. Well, nearly everything, even how he blamed himself for Sherlock’s death. To tell someone real though, someone in his actual life outside of Ella’s office, was absolutely terrifying to John. He knew it would spill out if he spoke with Martha Hudson for any length of time. He knew it didn’t make any sense, but he was afraid that he would lose all he had left of Sherlock if he revealed his true feelings to the people most important to him. Like the guilt he held so tightly kept Sherlock with him somehow.

“Come in. Come in,” Mrs. Hudson was saying as she motioned them toward her door. “The kettle’s on and you can try some of those biscuits. Fresh from the oven.”

She waggled her brows playfully and Stephen huffed a laugh of surprise, but John stood his ground, feeling every bit an ass. He longed to go into the tidy flat and chat with this beloved woman, whose zeal for life had not been downgraded after losing a man who was like a son, but John knew he only had so much time and needed to keep moving before it ran out.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hudson,” John said apologetically. “We were just off to meet Sherlock and we’re already running late.”

“Next time,” Stephen’s eyes gleamed as he kissed her hand gently. ”I’ll look forward to those biscuits.”

Mrs. Hudson gave him a delighted, but decidedly saucy, smile and then began shooing them away.

“You two get along then,” she said good-naturedly. “I know how Sherlock gets when he has to wait.”

“Absolute menace,” John agreed. “Ta for now.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Stephen nodded and they were out the door.

John swiftly stepped across the pavement and hailed a cab. The two men got in wordlessly, John gave the driver their destination and they were on their way. John looked out the window for a moment as the familiar fixtures of Baker Street passed by and then turned to Stephen with a scathing look.

“Did you, or did you not, just flirt with my landlady?” John asked slowly, widening his eyes on certain words for emphasis.

“She’s a lovely woman,” Stephen replied with a shrug.

“She could be your mother,” John insisted.

Stephen sat back in his seat and studied John for a moment. The corner of his mouth curled upwards and his silvery eyes sparkled with amusement. If it weren’t for the facial hair and short hair, John could have been looking at Sherlock and that left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I admire your protective instinct, John,” the man told him almost fondly. John cocked a brow at the change of subject. “You truly watch over those you care for. A rare thing.”

“You watch over the universe,” John said after a pause. “You must care about its inhabitants to some degree to do that.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Stephen tilted his head in consideration, ”but it’s more a feeling of duty as Sorcerer Supreme. It kind of comes with the job.”

“Sorcerer Supreme?” John questioned with a bemused laugh. “Bit full of yourself, eh?”

“I didn’t name it,” Stephen replied off-handedly, taking John’s jab for what it was.

“You’re sure about that?” John teased and the man glanced toward him with a smile curling his lips. John let out a burst of giggles and the back of the cab was soon filled with their laughter. 

When it died down, the two men sat in companionable silence, each with his own thoughts. John didn’t know what Stephen thought about, but he could not keep his own from all things Sherlock. He was here, in London, on his way to Bart’s, and John was going to see him. See him alive and well. It was almost too much to comprehend. Before he got too far into his own head, a movement next to John distracted him, pulling him back to the cab and the man beside him. Stephen had sat up and peered out the window with sharp eyes. John couldn’t help but lean over slightly and try to follow the man’s intense gaze.

“We’re getting close,” Stephen said by way of explanation, a note of tension in his voice. He turned his eyes to John, who was now staring at the back of the seat in front of them. His hands and jaw were clenched, his eyes wide and dangerously focused, yet seeing nothing. “John?”

The doctor turned his head eerily slowly and fixed blank eyes on his companion. He still didn’t acknowledge Stephen and didn’t so much as blink until the magician touched his arm. John startled slightly at the touch and came back to himself, but his pulse had quickened and his breathing came faster.

“What is it?” Stephen asked, already knowing the answer.

“It’s just,” John began and swallowed audibly. “It’s hard.”

He shook his head, feeling like an idiot.

“I watched him fall,” John struggled to put his thoughts together into something that made sense. He had a mission, a purpose for being here, damn it. He thought that focus would keep his emotions at bay as it had in the army, but he could feel the pull of sorrow and desperation on his heart, threatening to overtake him. John shook his head to clear it with only limited success. “The other me is in a cab right now, heading this way and he has no idea what’s coming. That was me. That’s me.”

“That’s why we’re here, John,” Stephen assured him. “We will not fail.”

John was breathing slowly and deliberately now, his shoulders raising and lowering slightly with the effort. His eyes stung and he squinted to stop them from filling. He would not do this now. He would not panic. He needed his head about him if they were going to pull this off. He had to push it down, block it out. He could not allow himself to be overwhelmed.

“He proposed to me in the lab, you know,” John heard himself saying as he nodded ahead toward Bart’s. “On this very day. Today is the anniversary of his proposal.”

Stephen pressed his lips together and sighed. An expression of understanding and regret hung on his features. John furrowed his brow in confusion, a question on his lips and then realization dawned. His cheeks grew instantly hot with the flush of anger.

“He knew,” John growled, barely audible. “Moran knew it. He did it on this building and on this day because he knew what it meant to me and wanted me to think of Sherlock dead instead of his proposal.”

Stephen did not reply. He didn’t have to. John could see the truth of his words written in the man’s resignation and sadness. John fumed, his whole body burning with fury. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to collect himself, his teeth grinding. When he opened them again, he looked directly at Stephen with a piercing gaze.

“I want to throw him off the fucking building,” John muttered dangerously.

“I know,” Stephen leaned in, “but we stick to the plan. I will deal with Moran. You save yourself.”

John stared at him coldly without a word. Stephen leaned close and placed a hand on John’s forearm to ground him. 

“You’re too angry, John,” he said quietly. “I can’t risk your emotions getting the better of you when you see him. Nothing can happen to Sherlock, but you need to get through this too. I can’t let you put yourself in danger.”

“Right,” John agreed after a moment, wrangling himself in. He inhaled deeply and breathed it out. “You’re right.”

He took a little more time to collect himself and looked back at Stephen.

“Thanks,” John said with a very slight quirk of his mouth.

Stephen opened his mouth to speak, but the cabbie’s gruff voice interrupted to tell them they had arrived. The two men climbed out of the cab, John paying the driver as they went. Once on the pavement, they rounded the hospital until they stood in the very spot where John watched the love of his life tumble to his death. His eyes fixed on the edge of the roof, the place he last saw Sherlock alive, and he could not tear them away. As John stared, a dark figure in a billowy coat appeared and his breath caught in his throat. They were too late! Sherlock was already there and so close to the roof’s edge!

“Over there,” Stephen commanded, pointing a finger past him. 

John blinked and the figure was gone. He stood there another moment, his body shaking. Taking no notice, Stephen bounded off toward two over-sized construction skips sitting side by side near the hospital wall. The movement captured John’s attention and he made to follow.

One by one, the two men squeezed in between the skips. It was tight for the taller man, but John helped pull him into the hiding place. John looked out at the street and made sure he had a vantage point that allowed him to see all three spots the assassins had occupied in his memories. He wanted a clean shot for every one of them. The street was relatively empty when he and Stephen had arrived just minutes before, but people were already beginning to trickle by. Two twenty-somethings talking and laughing, an older man walking a dog, an obvious wanker of a businessman shouting at someone on his mobile. John wrinkled his nose disdainfully and looked at Stephen.

“I’ll see them all from here,” he told the cloaked man. “Three precise shots is all it’ll take.”

“You can do it before any of them dispatches you?” Stephen asked, referring to the John that would be on the pavement with the assassins. John looked at him wryly.

“If you actually doubted it, you wouldn’t have brought me,” he answered smugly.

Stephen gave him a mischievous smile and John grinned back. John turned to look out at the street as a lorry passed noisily. He took his gun from where it was tucked into the back of his trousers. He and Stephen exchanged a few words as they waited, John watching passers by all the while. The minutes ticked by and John turned to look where Stephen leaned comfortably against the wall of the over-sized skip.

“Shouldn’t you be on your way up to the…” John trailed off when he shifted his gaze back to the street. “Wait. I know these people.”

The woman with the pram was just entering from the other side of the street. The man who would eventually yell up to Sherlock, telling him not to jump, appeared from the opposite direction. Before John knew it, the assassins were taking their positions.

“Shit, it’s starting,” John said hoarsely as Stephen pressed up behind him to see. John’s blood went cold when a cab pulled up and stopped. He swallowed hard and gaped, his veins turning to ice as he watched himself step out of the car and look up at the hospital. The cab drove away and John’s double made to cross the street, but stopped to fish in his coat pocket.

“Fuck. My mobile,” John glared at Stephen with wide eyes. “They’re already up there! How do you…”

Without a word, Stephen disappeared. John blinked and then huffed in frustration.

“Or you could just go that way. Sure,” he muttered angrily.

When Stephen appeared behind the two men on the roof of Bart’s, Sherlock’s tall frame was already at the edge and motioning down to John. A well-built blonde with a gun stood a good ten feet away from the detective so he would not be seen from below. The wind whipped around Sherlock’s long, dark coat and effectively muffled Moran’s voice as he instructed the detective. Stephen ducked behind an industrial HVAC unit to watch.

“You jump or he dies. It’s that simple,” Moran was saying, his muscled arm extended so the gun pointed at Sherlock’s back. “It’s not even a choice, is it?”

Sherlock lifted his right foot and placed it on the roof’s ledge, quickly followed by the left. Moran took two menacing steps closer, still safely out of view, to make sure Sherlock didn’t have any second thoughts.

“This is what people do,” the detective was saying. His voice caught in his throat, making his next words very unsteady. “This is my note.”

Moran took a few more steps toward Sherlock as he taunted him. Meanwhile, Stephen stood and began to creep silently forward, raising his arms as he went.

“Don’t worry about him once you’re gone,” Moran snarled with a cruel laugh. “Your sweet doctor will live a long, miserable life knowing you killed yourself. He’ll blame himself. I’ll see to it.”

Sherlock did not falter from facing away and down to the ground below, but he did glance back at Moran with his eyes before looking down at John again. A tear fell from each grey-blue eye and dripped down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, John. I’m so…” the deep baritone hitched and he stopped to swallow down a sob. 

Stephen was closer now, Moran none the wiser.

“I love you, John,” Sherlock ended the call and dropped the mobile, not even watching as it fell to the ground and shattered. His eyes were locked on John. 

Stephen conjured with a swift motion of his hands as three shots rang out from below, startling both Sherlock and Moran.

“Hey, asshole,” Stephen called. 

Both men spun to look at him, their eyes wide with shock. Instead of shooting at Stephen as expected, Moran turned and barreled at Sherlock with every intention of pushing him off the roof. Stephen effortlessly opened a portal that Moran rushed right through before it was dispelled, both vanishing into thin air.

With Moran gone, Stephen looked to Sherlock and his jaw dropped. The quick turn at hearing Stephen’s voice had thrown him off balance on the narrow ledge. He was toppling backwards off the side of the hospital, desperately reaching for something, anything to catch himself.

“Shit!” Stephen ran forward, watching Sherlock’s body drop out of sight. His mind barely registered the sound of two identical voices yelling Sherlock’s name from far below.

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HOLY SHIT, JANE! WHY? WHY?????? What can I say? I love me a good cliff hanger. Tune in the first weekend of June to see what happens next!

Love, Jane

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Overcome With Thanksgiving

“…“Behold, the Lamb of God, Who takes away the sin of the world!” John 1:29ESV

We need to look at Jesus during these days we’re in. Trouble is on every side of us, ridicule and persecution. Did He have anything less than we’re facing? The Message Bible makes Isaiah 52:14, 53:3-5MSG easier to see the sufferings of Christ—  “He didn’t even look human— a ruined face, disfigured past recognition…. There was nothing attractive about Him, nothing to cause us to take a second look. He was looked down on and passed over, a Man Who suffered, Who knew pain firsthand. One look at Him and people turned away. We looked down on Him, thought He was scum. But the fact is, it was our pains He carried— our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us. We thought He brought it on Himself, that God was punishing Him for His own failures. But it was our sins that did that to Him, that ripped and tore and crushed Him—our sins! He took the punishment, and that made us whole. Through His bruises (stripes) we get healed.”

Listening to Jesus Image on YouTube last night I was overcome with thanksgiving to the Lamb of God for taking away my sins. I’d like to think I never fail or sin— you? Truth is “For we all are as a defiled thing and all our righteousness is like the patch of cloth of a menstruous woman….” Isaiah 64:6AramaicBIPE. We can’t ever accomplish righteousness outside of the blood of Jesus. Never will our own actions be good enough to take us into the Presence of Almighty God. Only by Jesus’ blood! Hallelujah.

Gabriel came to Mary and rightly said— “…You shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.” Matthew 1:21ESV Only Jesus has the power to save and redeem us, right down to the serial killers, human traffickers, even those pedophiles who torture and kill precious children, and our politicians. That’s hard for me to say, because I have a real big problem with child abuse in any and every form— having been abused and molested myself. Nonetheless, the blood of Jesus makes all sins equal at the foot of the cross, pardoning all who ask for forgiveness.  

In conclusion comes a plea from our Sovereign God: “I want you to show love, not offer sacrifices. I want you to know Me more than I want burnt offerings” Hosea 6:6NLT. God’s plea for us to KNOW HIM more than anything else. Know His love for us; Know His mercy for all; Know His desire to gather us close to Him; Know His full pardons of sin; Know His healing power; Know His provision for our needs. Will we come to know Him for He is the “Lamb of God, Who takes away the sin of the world!” It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Our Father Who art in heaven, hallowed, worshipped, appreciated, loved and adored be known by Your children today. Help us to see the abundance of Your love and truth today, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2022 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.

[not-wholly-unheroic]

Captain Hook & The History of Prosthetics

From its earliest days on stage to the upcoming Disney live-action film, Peter Pan has provided audiences with one of the most widely recognized amputee characters in media history. The iron claw, now associated with all pirates, is an iconic image...but how realistic would it have been for a captain who lost a hand or arm in battle to find himself wearing a hook? I decided to do some digging to find out.

The earliest known use of a prosthetic hand dates back to the 200s B.C. when Roman general Marcus Sergius lost his right hand during the Second Punic War and had an iron hand fashioned to hold his shield while he fought with his left hand. There isn’t a ton of information on what this replacement “hand” may have looked like (whether it was primarily functional or also cosmetic) but it may have resembled a much later design (c. 1504) worn by German knight Goetz von Berlichingen, also known as “Goetz of the Iron Hand” This hand, though crafted with great detail to look realistic, was also designed to let the wearer grasp a shield, reins, etc. Although the gripping motion required adjusting the device with the remaining natural hand, the design looks surprisingly modern. 

Goetz von Berlichingen’s Iron Hand

Around the same time period in the Mediterranean region, Ottoman seaman Oruc Reis--also known as Baba Oruc (”Father Oruc”),  later misheard and Westernized as Barbarossa (”Redbeard” in Italian)--lost his left arm in battle, replacing it with a metal prosthetic and earning the privateer the nickname Gumus Kol, meaning “Silver Arm” in Turkish. Much like Marcus Sergius, we don’t have a good idea of this prosthetic’s appearance. 

The first major historical figure to use an actual hook in place of a hand was privateer Christopher Newport, who lost an arm while attempting to capture a Spanish galleon in 1590. Newport is also known for helping establish the colony of Jamestown alongside the more popularized John Smith and others in 1607. 

Artist’s Rendering of Christopher Newport

Another infamous sailor who lost a limb, Admiral Horatio Nelson, is virtually never depicted with a prosthetic of any sort but is responsible for the development of what would come to be known as “The Nelson Fork,” a combination knife and fork designed to make cutting and eating food easier for those missing a hand. Though Nelson lost his arm in 1797, variations of his cutlery design are still in use today.

A Nelson Fork, or as I like to call it, a “Knork”

During the Victorian Era, some false hands had a very steampunk/cyborg look to them. In fact, they rather resemble Long John Silver’s cyborg arm in Disney’s Treasure Planet. (Fun Fact: While attempting to see if they could seamlessly blend CG with traditional 2D animation, Disney did a test run of some existing footage of Hook with Silver’s cyborg arm.)

A Victorian False Arm (left) and Disney’s Test Footage of Hook with Silver’s Cyborg Arm (right)

Meanwhile, in the U.S., many soldiers were coming home from the Civil War with missing limbs, and the widespread need for practical prosthetics led to the development of a sort of “Swiss Army Knife” prosthetic with detachable parts, including cosmetic false hands, hooks, cutlery, and what appears to be either a brush or a toothbrush.

A Civil War Era Prosthetic with Attachments

In fact, many of these sorts of prosthetic attachments are similar to what we see Hook use in the Disney film and are still used by amputees today.

The Captain’s Case of Hooks (left) and Catalog Images of Modern Prosthetic Attachments (right)

You’ll notice that among the modern attachments featured is--you guessed it!--a hook! In fact, because of its versatility and cost-effectiveness as a prosthetic hand replacement, variations on the concept of a hook became quite popular during the 1800s/1900s and still exist today.

A Collection of Hooks from the 19th and Early 20th Centuries

The modern split hook, first developed in 1912 and popularized in the aftermath of WWI & WWII, is perhaps the most common sort of hook used in modern times. It typically features a sort of harness that goes across the chest/back and over the shoulder opposite the missing limb. This design likely influenced the image of Cyril Ritchard’s two-pronged claw in the 1960s stage version of Peter Pan and Jason Isaacs’ prosthetic apparatus in the 2003 film. 

A Modern Split Hook (bottom left), Cyril Ritchard’s Hook (top left), and Jason Isaacs’ Hook (right)

In the aftermath of the World Wars, although technology has allowed for the development of some truly remarkable bionic inventions, the continued need for practical, cost-effective prosthetics has led to the development of a variety of attachments designed for work as well as leisure activities. 

Enter Jake and the Neverland Pirates. While the show maintains Hook as a villain, because it is designed for children, he is portrayed more as a bully with low self-esteem than a truly evil, threatening character. We’re meant to like him, and while the audience laughs at his antics and feels sorry for him for many reasons (Dude has some SERIOUS bad luck!), the hook itself isn’t one of them. One thing I love about the show is that it takes the stereotypically “scary amputee villain” and turns him into a sympathetic grump with a collection of really cool hooks that any kid would envy. Some of them are admittedly a bit far-fetched and fanciful (But who DOESN’T want a whirly-hook that lets you fly?)...but surprisingly, many of the attachments are a fairly accurate representation of what’s out there. For example, need to build something or hang a picture on the wall? There’s a hammer hook for that.

A Veteran from One of the World Wars with a Hammer Attachment (left) and Captain Hook’s “Hammer Hook” from Jake and the Neverland Pirates (right)

Or maybe you want to play a game of golf... 

A Man Using a Prosthetic Attachment to Hold a Golf Club (left) and Captain Hook’s Golf Club Hook from Jake and the Neverland Pirates (right)

YUP! It’s real! (Okay, so the attachment is made to HOLD a golf club. It’s not a club itself...but the concept is the same.)

So...what’s the verdict? Although the popular vision of pirates wearing hooks is heavily overstated in modern culture, it is historically quite plausible that a captain who lost a hand in battle might replace it with a hook...and if he were still around today, he might even have an attachment that would allow him to spend his retirement years enjoying some time out on the green.

[deepdonutkid]

Kismet

Requested: No

Paring: Shelby!Sister Reader x Isaiah

Words: 5624

Summary: For a year now, you had a secret relationship with Isaiah and even when he is still in the same room with you, you can’t stop feeling lonely. It’s not that you don’t love him anymore, it more about the weight of the secret you have to carry. But with Tommy as you big brother you can’t risk, telling the truth or your man might get shot.

Note:

I was in the mood for a Shelby!Sister reader x Isaiah and it turned out to be way longer than I expected it... and I even cut out dialog... So here it is!

It’s also flavored with Junior Peaky Boys fun at the beginning. And I was inspired by my homegirl’s one shot called star and my story is an addition to hers, it’s the same night, but Bonnie has some other adventures than the reader and Isaiah.

Somehow I feel like everybody is a little ooc, but I couldn’t correct it.

Requests and tag list are still open, feel free to dm me or send me an ask.

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl​ @justalonelyslytherin​ @theshelbyclan​ 

Warning: swear words, drinking, binge drinking, gambling, a hinted smut and a sweet ending

It was one of those nights, nothing special, just the usual fellows around the same table in the Garrison.  You had fun nevertheless. All your friends were right there, you had enough to drink and you had a luck hand today. The cards seemed to work in your fortune.

Deviously smiling you revealed your hand. You just had won this round and it gave you unholy amounts of satisfactions. “Ha”, you cheered: “Suck it up.”

Your friend shrugged and shoved his coins in your direction. All he said was a very grumpy “There you go”, but it pleased you.

You took the money and peaked around the corner. Where was Michael with the drinks? He was like a brother to you, but he was just your cousin. Maybe it was because you were born just two months before his older sister, Anna. Even though, she was gone Michael came back to his real family and now you were closer than ever. You cared for him, more than your siblings did.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t hit him, if he just left the bar to fuck with some random girl. It was not about him having sex, more about leaving without telling anybody. Especially when he was supposed to get drinks for the table. You moaned and said: “Where is Michael?”

“Probably doing somebody”, Isaiah joked and lit a cigarette. Then he offered you one and you took it gladly. Actually, you bit your lip and gave him the side-eye, but you had to hide your smile in front of the others. Bonnie and Finny weren’t the smartest boys in Small Heath, but you wouldn’t risk it.

You had so much fun with Isaiah that you didn’t even know when it started. Months passed by, while you were completely caught up in your little game with him. Nobody knew it. That was mainly Isaiah’s fault. At first it amused you to keep your relationship with him secret, but now you were ready to tell your family about it. Your boyfriend didn’t like the idea.

Somehow you thought Michael started to notice. He gave you the glace, which said: “I know, dear”, but maybe you were just getting crazy. You just had to be more careful around others now and everything was fine.

The night was still young and you were keen to make Bonnie lose all his money today. He had won the boxing match earlier and the bruises were still visible, but unfortunately for him, he couldn’t win against you. It was just a card game, but it filled you with gleeful joy. This and the fact that Isaiah was sitting next to you. Sometimes he would brush your thigh with his fingers, which made you giggle even more.

“There he is”, yelled Finny while being so fucking drunk, like you never had seen him before. Michael arrived with messy hair and his tie was undone, but he had your drink and that was all that you care for. “Finally”, you fluted and ripped the glass of his hand: “Thank you, babe.”

And the whiskey was still cold, which meant he fucked the girl first and ordered the drinks afterwards. “How was she? Good?” you asked before you took a sip from your whiskey. You weren’t a lightweight when it came to drinking, maybe not as well as Arthur and John, but you could tolerate much more than Ada and Finny. Your little brother was so drunk, he looked like his head was all empty and yet filled with bullshit.

Michael sat down next to you and answered: “Mhh, she was okay, but she talked too much.” Then you felt the weight of a hand on your thigh again. A shiver rushed down your spine, but it was the wrong side. Your cousin had put his hand on your knee. “Everything alright, Y/N?”

You nodded. “Yeah, everything is perfect”, you blabbered hoping he wouldn’t keep asking questions, but he did. “Don’t be so worried, every time I’m with a girl. I know you’re still a virgin, but you can get some too. Tommy wouldn’t be against it.”

How wonderfully wrong he was. Neither were you a virgin nor would Tommy be okay with this. After all, you were his little sister and he wouldn’t accept the guy, you were sleeping with. Of course, Isaiah was a friend of the family, but after the whole thing with Ada and Freddie you had something to worry about.

The best snarky comeback was right on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it without letting something slip. ‘What gives you the idea I’m still a virgin?’ And yet you were silent as the guy who fucked you, sat right next to you. You felt trapped and decided to go straight forward. “Yes, he would. You know it and everybody in Small Heath knows it.”

“Oh whatever”, Michael mumbled: “Just drink enough and you eventually forget about it.”

You grinned and emptied your drink. “Fuck it, let’s play some cards. I’m not done with Mr. Gold over here.”  Then you took the cards and dealt them to start the next round.

Much later that night when you brought Finn back home and went straight back to the pub, in front of the entrance, you stumbled into Bonnie. “Is there a reason why you’re smirking?” you asked him. He was gleaming red and smiling like an idiot.

Then you remembered. “The singer, right?” Bonnie nodded and his grin got even wider. “You talked to her?” Again he gave you a silent answer. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside. He was a lot heavier than you thought, but then again, you were just a girl and he was a boxer.

Sometime it was weird to only have male friends, it just happened. Maybe it was because of your brothers. Maybe that’s why you never acted like a proper girl. Of course you felt like a woman and you liked your body, but in your eyes it was so much easier to talk to guys.

“Eyy, where did you found him?” Michael slurred and helped you to put your friend on a chair again. With your hands finally free you had the chance to explain. “Found him outside. I don’t know what he did there, but he talked to the singer.”

Both, Isiah and Michael nodded. It was only logical for Bonnie to freak out after it talking to her. He was there every Friday night looking for the singer and now his brain seemed to melt, just because she said something to him. But neither of you knew, what she said exactly. Maybe this was a problem for another night. It didn’t look like Bonnie was able to answer.

So you ordered some more drinks and sat back down again. In this separate room, which was reserved for your family, it was almost too tempting to get close to your boyfriend again. Isiah looked so good that night and it hurt to be unable to touch him… or to kiss him. But you would be satisfied with just holding his hand now.

It was a curse; you knew it soon after you realized that you loved him. He was handsome, charming and a loyal friend. There was no better man for you, even though you wished you could be together in public. And again you bit your lip and moved your chair away from him.

But you couldn’t think about this anymore, it was too frustrating and luckily somebody else caught your attention. It was Bonnie who mumbled very quietly: “I think she kissed me, but it could be a dream as well. It felt so surreal.”  You padded his shoulder and nodded to underline your compassion.

It was just the same with Isaiah. Whenever you two were alone, it was amazing and beautiful. He was so soft and romantic and he just made you happy. But every time you woke up and he was gone, the sweet scenery shattered. And out in public it was getting annoying to find excuses to be with him or getting away, so you could spend some time alone with him and you had to lie to your whole family about your whereabouts. Slowly it became exhausting.

There was nothing you could do about it, so you just drank your whiskey and talked with the boys about Bonnie’s singer and the girl Michael had. It was so easy for them to display their relationship in the public, but of course you didn’t have this privilege as a girl. Apparently, you needed to be protected. Or so it has been explained to you. You wasn’t concerned for your safety but for your freedom. Tommy said it was his job as your big brother to care for you, even if it felt like he was controlling you. You have always been the wild one among your siblings and everything was fine, until your mum died and your dad left. Then Tommy was in charge and sometimes his opinions would vary from yours, which led to fights. And yet you feared what he might do, if he found out about your secret.

All the sudden Bonnie fell from his chair and you groaned. Now somebody had to bring him home as well. First Finn and now him… but why they couldn’t take the whiskey today? You weren’t nearly as drunk as them, but still.

Isaiah stood up and picked his friend up. “I’m taking him home. I’ll be right back”, he said, before leaving.

Now Michael and you were alone. It wasn’t what you wanted. The only thing you could think of was smooching the sweet lips of your boyfriend. You were caught up in your little fantasy, when your cousin woke you up again. “Isaiah is acting weird lately.”

“Oh… really? I didn’t notice”, you replied: “He seemed normal to me.” Your hand grabbed the fringe of your dress. Talking about him made you nervous.

Michael moaned and fumbled for his cigarettes. He put them out, you took one and he turned his between his fingers, when he added: “I don’t know, maybe I’m getting paranoid, but I think he is hiding something from us.” Then he lit his cigarette and took a drag from it.

You inhaled sharply and stared into the void for a second, before answering: “Don’t be silly, he is just as loyal as ever.” Then you laughed and Michael joined in. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just needed to get this off my chest.”

The rest of the conversation went just like usual. You chatted, you bickered and you had fun. While the bell already announced the new day, Isaiah came back.

In this tiny glimpse of a moment you couldn’t hide your smile and he reciprocated. Actually, you were just waiting for Michael to leave now. It was your plan all along, but patience has never been your strong suit.

It took three more rounds for Michael to say goodnight. “Take care of her, will you?” Isaiah nodded. When Michael finally grabbed his jacket and headed to the door, you felt unbelievably excited. Your fingertips slapped a melody on the table, while you watched him leaving. The door shut and now you had what you longed for all night.

You turned around and looked at him. Gosh, waiting felt like an eternity. Now you were the one smiling like an idiot. Slowly Isaiah came closer and his hand pulled you to him for a kiss. “Finally”, you whispered against his lips, before giving him what he wanted.

After you two parted you rested your head on his shoulder. Now you were getting tired as well, but you didn’t want to go to your bed. “I was waiting the whole evening for this”, he moaned and stroked your hair.

The smell of his perfume made you realized how much you missed him too, even though he was with you since you went to Garrison tonight. You moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around him to give him a tight squeeze. Then you signed: “I wish we didn’t have to hide” and buried your face in his shirt.

“Babe”, he replied: “We already had this conversation. It wouldn’t end well. Let’s just enjoy what we have as long as we can.” It hurt, but Isaiah was right. There was no chance Tommy was getting you off the hook, once he knew about it. And no matter how you explained it to him, he would still be against it. You were too young for stuff like that, as if he didn’t fucked Greta, when he was the same age.

You leaned back to see his beautiful face again. There was something in his eyes, a twinkle or something like that, but it always made you feel comfortable. A lick of your lip was enough to purpose the idea of doing something nasty. He knew you since you were children and it was like he could read your thoughts, especially the dirty ones.

Isaiah started giggling and asked: “Hey, babe, I still can cheer you up, right?”

Maybe it was time for some fun, different to the fun you had before with your friends. The word pleasure would describe it well and with his knowing look he gave you so many ideas. You laughed and nodded. “I think it might help when you do the thing with your tongue.”

“Oh”, he responded amused: “Like this?” And then grabbed you for a kiss and god, what a kiss it was. His tongue brushed your upper lip just to enter your mouth and explore it as if it was your first kiss. He even bit your lip playfully and kept going until you couldn’t breathe no more. Your knees started shaking and it was needless to say, he was the best kisser you ever had.

It took you a while to catch a breath again, but then you answered: “Yeah, just like this… But maybe we could go to your place and do a little more?”

He didn’t seem to be so sure about this suggestion. His thumb stroked your shoulder as he held you in his arm. Because he was so quiet for a second, you knew, he thought about this backwards and forwards. “But right when the sun comes up, you have to go back home”, he argued.

Again, Isaiah was right. You should take too many risks. Otherwise you might get caught and neither of you wanted that. All you could do was to shrug and agree: “Just don’t shoo me after we fucked.” There was bitterness in your voice. What wouldn’t you give to wake up next to him every morning?

The pub was almost empty, when you left. You couldn’t hold his hand on the way out. Everybody in Small Heath was Tommy’s spy. Back on the streets a cold wind blew. Now you had an excuse to go near him and he shared his coat with you. Isaiah was always so sweet and caring. You knew you wanted to spend your future with him. There was no other man and you wouldn’t get over him, not now and not in five years.

You even took off your shoes before entering the Jesus household and followed him on your tiptoes to his room. It was completely dark in the house and the silence was haunting, but good for you, you knew the way by now. The excitement made your fingers tremble.

Finally you arrived where you wanted to be the whole day, in his room. Isaiah closed the door as quietly as possible and started smiling. You walked up to him and started to unbutton his shirt. Now you didn’t want to waste any time.

And neither did Isaiah. He was ripping down your dress, which only worked because the straps were so thin. His hands were all over your body and you couldn’t stop kissing every inch of his skin. It felt like magic whenever he touched you. You moaned, when he played with your bare breasts. To silence you he put his thumb on your lips, which you took as an invitation to suck it. Maybe it was mean to tease him like that, but you were desperate for his affection.

An hour later you laid next to him, your head on his chest as he stroked your hair. “You should leave, before we both fall asleep, babe”, he whispered, which caused you to sign. Leaving now was draining, even exhausting. After this wonderful sex, you were too tired to move anywhere, not to the bathroom and certainly not back to your cold bed.

You pouted your lips and tilted your head, so you could give him your puppy eyes and a pretty please with cream and a cherry on top. “Just ten more minutes. Your bed is way comfier than mine.”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “That’s just because I’m in this bed and you like to use me as your personal giant pillow.” Your fingers hovered about his belly. Even though his muscles weren’t tense now, you could still feel the strength lying beneath his skin.

While your index finger drew circles around his bellybutton, you whined: “Maybe… just maybe that is true, but I still want to lay here for a bit. Otherwise I start to feel like a whore, who only comes for sex and leaves silently afterwards.”  It wasn’t a knock against Lizzie or her job, but you didn’t like the feeling, when you got home and had to find sleep in your own bed. Even though you had a relationship with him, you still felt lonely. Especially when the sun was rising and nobody was by your side.

“You’re not a whore and you know that”, he argued looking a little concerned.

Then you turned on your back and stared at the ceiling. “No, I’m a Shelby and that is probably worse”, you scoffed.

Now Isaiah was silent and had no witty comeback for that. Maybe, because it was true. If you weren’t part of the family, you could be with anyone, whoever you wanted. Carrying the name Shelby was the only reason, why you had to hide your relationship with Isaiah.

After a while he mumbled: “Okay, stay for a while, but you should be back before they open the shop.” By that time you were already half asleep and yet his words made you smile. He wrapped his arms around you, the little spoon and purred like a cat. Just in this position the both of you fell asleep.

Loud steps were coming near the door, but they wouldn’t wake you up. The screaming of Isaiah’s name did. It was a familiar voice and it took you a couple of minutes to notice, it was your brother Finn who shouted and ran down the hall. Suddenly you were wide awake. You startled up and looked around the room. The sun was already up and shining through the window. Then you saw Isaiah, who was just as frightened as you were.

If Finn came rushing through that door, your secret relationship was no longer secret. “I locked the door last night”, he whispered, which was relieving to you, but still no perfect solution for this problem.

Now Finn arrived at the other side of the door and was knocking on it like crazy. “Isaiah, wake up! Y/N is gone. Nobody can find her and Michael said you were the last one with her in the bar”, your brother yelled. You could hear the panic in his voice, but you couldn’t get caught. Not now.

You stumbled out of the bed and collected your clothes, when you heard Isaiah ask: “What are you going to do? You can’t go out there. He will find out.” And you knew your boyfriend wasn’t concerned about Finn, more about Tommy.

The tension in the room was immense. You had to come up with a plan or your brothers would shoot your lover in front of your eyes.

Suddenly you knew what to do. You pushed the pile of clothing to your chest and squeeze it thigh, when you explained in a lower tone: “I’m gonna hide in the wardrobe and then you open the door and go with Finn away. Afterwards I can come out and then I go to the betting shop and tell the others I have fallen asleep on a bench or something.” It was not the best plan, but yet your only option.

Isaiah nodded and you climbed into the cabinet where he stored his shirt and jackets. The second you entered the small wooden space, you knew it was all going down. Call it intuition, call it divination, call it whatever power Polly owned, but you felt it rushing through your body. He closed the door behind you and then you could hear him stumble into his pants.

Only half clothed he unlocked the door to let Finn in. Isaiah was still sleepy. He wasn’t the morning type of person and before he hadn’t had his breakfast he wasn’t really available. Finn strode up and down. You heard is nervous steps. “Everybody is freaking out right now. Polly thinks somebody kidnapped her or worse. I mean, she has always been unratable in her doings, but this time my sister is really going of the edge. It’s already past lunch and nobody has seen her”, Finn explained: “This morning her bed was empty and I thought I shouldn’t worry, but now I’m afraid I should have said something sooner.”

The cabinet was very uncomfortable and yet you tried not to move or to make a noise, which would cause Finn’s attention. However, being in Isaiah’s position didn’t seem to be pleasant as well. He had to lie to his best friend about the whereabouts of his missing sister, knowing she was sitting right here. Isaiah patted his friends shoulder and said nothing.

Finn didn’t calm down and seemed to be upset, Isaiah wasn’t panicking like him. “C’mon, get dressed. We have to look for her. She might be lying somewhere in the dirt. We shouldn’t waste even more time, standing around.” Then he walked to the closet and opened just the door where you had been hiding.

Butt-naked you fell down to the floor and looked up to your younger brother, who had the same face expression as the one time you told him where the babies were coming from. Some when later you would look back at this moment and would have a good laugh about this, but right now it felt like your world was collapsing.

He should have seen you like this and it took you a whole minute to gather the mental energy to get back up at your feet and greet him like it was the normal thing to do in a situation like this. “Hey, Finny, there I am.”

Your brother froze mid movement and stared at you as if you were the first pink elephant the world has seen or a bear riding a bike. Then he broke the silence. “What?”, he winced. There was no anger in his voice, just total confusion.

Finn looked to Isaiah and then back to you. “You screwed my sister?!”

There was no answer to this question.

“How long?” Finn asked: “How long did you hide that from me?”

You glared over to you boyfriend as if you were asking him for permission to say something. Isaiah signed and nodded. There was no point in denying this anymore. It was over.

Now you had to tell the truth. “A couple of months, maybe a year or so”, you croaked and your voice sounded strange. Like it was not your own and even though you dreamt about finally opening up, it shouldn’t have been like this.

Your brother yelled: “A year?! A whole fucking year? Damn, I should be proud because apparently you two are excellent liars with no moral issues… you two deserve each other.” You heard the disgust and disappointment, when he spoke and it broke your heart. Back then, when the whole thing started you though he might be the only one of your brothers to understand you. How wonderfully wrong you were.

“No”, you said under your breath: “Don’t fucking do this to me. I would have told you, if you wouldn’t have run straight to Tommy after you knew. Everybody knows you can’t keep a secret. So don’t act like it was my fault or my mistake, because it’s not. I would have gladly told everybody, I’m like him very much, but you and Tommy and Arthur and John made it impossible for me to even talk with a guy who is not part of the gang. You can’t turn this around and act like you are the victim in all this.”

It was time for you to stand up for yourself and your decisions… and time for you to get dressed. You didn’t seem as responsible as you were when you were still naked and in front of the closed you have been hiding in. Now you knew how wrong it was to lie and hide your relationship, because it wasn’t their concern. It was your life, your body and your choice. Nobody could take that from you and certainly not your brothers. You weren’t afraid of them. All your life you saw how your brothers treated women and you said nothing about it, but this should change right now.

So you stood there, furious and filled with rage, put on your dress and your shoes and said one last thing, before leaving: “This madness has to end.”

You stormed out of the room- not caring for Isaiah or Finn- and heading for the King of Small Heath to throw him out of his high throne. Your hair was a nest and you smelled like a bar after a dirty old night, when you entered the betting shop. Nobody was there, just the regular family members.

Everybody seemed to be relieved to see you again and then came close to hug you. Ada was right next to the door and the first to greet you. “Oh my god, you’re back, sweetie”, she muttered.

Next was Polly who examined your appearance for cuts and other injuries. Of course you had none, besides the hickeys Isaiah gave you. She tried to take a closer look of your neck, but you pulled away, which caused her to ask: “What happened? Where were you all night?”

Now Tommy was coming up to you. His steps were slow, but fierce and the glare in his eyes was pinching. “Just from the smell I would guess, she was with a guy this night”, he scoffed: “She probably had a lot of fun, but now she should say, who that guy was, so we can take actions.” You knew he was addressing you, even though he didn’t phrase it like that.

“I don’t think, this is your business”, you replied with a grin on your face. You wouldn’t back down. Not this time. “But yes, I was with a guy tonight. So you don’t need to worry. I’m completely fine.”

Your older brother led out a little laugh, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Well, well, well, I don’t care what you think. I’m your brother and it’s my job to make sure you’re safe”, he explained: “And now you tell me who he was.” Ah, past tense, a hint of what was going to happen.

You crossed your arms and tiled your head to give him a dismissive look. “Who said it was your job?” was your comeback, but your brother wasn’t remotely impressed. Neither of you would let the other win. You were too stubborn for this gesture of insight.

Others, including Arthur and John, were somehow intimidated by Tommy’s behavior, but not you. Actually, you learned too much from him to take his shit.  He taught you to help your head up high and how to outsmart your enemies.  Now you could use the same strategies against him.

“Ever since our father left and mom died, you act like you are in charge, but you’re not. We are your siblings, not your pawn, waiting for your command”, you hissed: “I have my own life and I make my own decisions and who I meet shouldn’t concern you.” Slowly your anger grew. It was a boiling feeling in your gut, like you were fueled with fire.

Tommy was getting gleaming red. You had hit the right spot and you knew you would hurt him with your words, but otherwise he wouldn’t understand. The words were stuck in his throat as he killed you with his looks.

Patiently, you waited for his answer. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, but silencing your brother was the best thing ever, since he was the reason why you felt miserable lately. “No comeback? No arguments, dear?” You loved to poke his wounds and you did it with a huge smile on your face.

“As if you would listen to me… You even said it yourself. You wouldn’t take my advice”, he responded and bid his lip. “But I don’t need to talk to you to teach you a lesson. You’re too young to fuck around town and I’m going to find the bastard who did this and kill him.”

The door was opened behind you and soon Finn entered the room. You gave your little brother the death glare you were known for. He shouldn’t get the idea he was allowed to talk about what he found out.

You should be raging right now, but all you could do was laugh. His empty threats weren’t as daunting as he thought. With nothing but spite you whistled: “I would love to see you try. I kept this a secret for over a year now and you noticed nothing. And now I can wait another year for you to find him… or I could run away… whatever you prefer.”

Now you’re pushing your luck. Finn could ruin everything, if he just said one wrong word. The palms of your hands were sweaty. It was a dangerous game you played there, but it was not like you could back out of it now. This was road of no return.

Tommy seemed to be more surprised than fuming, when he asked: “You slept with some geezers for a year now?” He respected your talent to keep it under the radar. Everybody who could shirk his rules deserved acknowledgement for putting up with this risk. Maybe he was finally realizing how much you had grown. You weren’t his little kitten anymore.

“No, not geezers, just one guy”, you corrected him: “But yes, that is true.”

You watched Tommy as he walked around the table, heading for the whiskey, while he nodded understandingly. “Mh, so you would say it’s love?”

A sign came from your lips. You already knew the answer, but you weren’t so sure, if you should say this out loud. After all, you didn’t even have a proper talk about this with Isaiah. Silence was filling the room, while you calculated your risks. If you said, you loved him and Isaiah wasn’t as serious about the relationship, you would look like an idiot. Good for you, he didn’t come to the betting shop to witness the fight between you and your brother. Finally you decided to tell everybody: “Yes, I do.”

“Good”, Tommy mumbled while he poured his whiskey: “Then you should have my blessing. Just give us the name now.” He took a sip and seemed to be amused by your embarrassment.

Talking about Isaiah, while he wasn’t present, was weird, but you knew why he stayed in the comfort of his own room. You weren’t mad at him for not running after you. This was your fight and not his. And after all your brothers were a little scary, when it comes to stuff like this.

But you had Tommy’s word now and nothing should happen to your man. You shrugged and rolled with your eyes. The fuss they made about this was still annoying.

Ada patted your shoulder and encouraged you to speak. “Do we know him?” The answer was yes, but it was also the reason, why you struggled to say it out loud.

Even John chimed in and kept pushing: “Yeah, what’s up with this fella?” He was smiling to let you know the mood had changed. Nobody was against you anymore.

“It’s…”, you started and fumbled for the seam of your dress: “It’s Isaiah.”

At first it was dead silence, while the others processed the information, then Arthur and John burst out in laughter. Finn seemed to be relieved, because he would have hated it to keep a secret like this. Your older sister was hugging you a little too tight and even Polly was smiling.

Tommy had a smug on his face when he muttered: “If that’s the case, then you should have your happiness.”

“Isaiah is a fine fella. You will be alright”, hummed Arthur. Apparently everybody was happy with your choice. You just had to stand up for yourself.

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders and then you could laugh about it too. But suddenly you remember that Isaiah was still waiting for his death in his room. “I should go and let him of the hook”, you fluted and already went to the door when you heard Tommy said: “Don’t get pregnant or he has to marry you.”

[jockpoetry]

supernatural sees women as a tool for development and strengthening of narratives/motivation and dean sees his body as a tool. is that anything?

When I saw this ask I really made the 🥴in real life. So, yeah anon, I do think there’s something to this.

Quick Disclaimer before I actually launch into my thoughts™: A lot of my read of Dean stems from my experience as both an oldest daughter and a transman. Being the oldest daughter was an experience I lived for many years, but I am also a man. I wasn’t raised as a man, I wasn’t socialized as a man, and even though once I came out upon reflection my masculinity was obviously there. Like I was a man™ before I knew I was a man. Even when I actively tied my identity to femininity for a long time! A lot of my prideful moments were based around statements like: “I was the only girl who (fill in the blank).” 

So I am just putting that out there before I launch into my spiel about Dean/Gender/Tool because they all interlock for me. 

I am also going to apologize in advance because I know this has fully gone off the rails and I’m not even done writing it yet. If this is incomprehensible ! Well, happens to the best of us.

First off, most importantly I guess before we discuss womanhood and Dean and the way both are utilized on the show I need to say that I personally don’t subscribe the whole Dean is female coded thing. 

It’s a read I can absolutely understand. But for me..he’s not. 

He’s a hypermasculine man to the point that when (and because he is written as a punchline, as the stupid™ brother, as the whore™, as the mother/father™, as daddy’s blunt instrument™, etc) Dean deviates from the pre-accepted definition of hypermasculine it’s Wrong. 

It’s Instantly Feminine. 

I think the internet has made the world very black and white, or blue and pink maybe. This point, I think, colors a lot of these discussions. Dean cooks, he cleans and so therefor he’s female coded. When that really just feeds back into the whole toxic masculinity loop. You can’t be masculine and cook and clean and cry. That’s for feminine people only. 

I get the argument! I do, I just think that Dean’s actions are not inherently feminine, it’s just in the vacuum of Female and in the Absence of Traditional Masculinity it makes sense to assign him female coded and move on.

IN FACT the way that Dean is the action hero of the show, the Masculine™ one on the show - but he cries, and he rages, and he cooks (Again and Again) and cleans (Again and Again). The fact he’s macho and confident but he has so little self esteem. Is frankly insane to me. You have this blaze of glory character who is so depressed that they have him kill himself. Twice. In explicitly “I hate myself, I hate hearing all the things I hate about myself, I want to destroy myself” ways. 

On just a regular ol’ network show that is just ungodly bad at times. They let their Male Hero cry - all the time (if I linked every example of this the essay would be...longer than it already is, but just take my word for it). Dean tears up and grieves and shows more than just Angry Horny Violent™ (he shows plenty of that, don’t get me wrong) but he’s Emotional (Again and Again and Again). In many different ways!

I mean, beyond even just tearing up, they make their Male Hero™ face sexual violence in pretty, uniquely horrifying - and queer! - ways.

Let’s make it clear, they did a lot of this unintentionally. 

Or they do it as a joke. 

Off of dean for a moment to say women are plot devices in this show. I could probably count on one hand female characters who have sincere depth to them that have roles outside of progressing plot, filling a filler episode, and who are still alive. Like even characters such as Charlie who are wholly developed, and interesting, are only remembered/mentioned/utilized to progress plots or fill an episode out - and then she dies. For pain™ for plot™ for no other reason than to traumatize a character. 

Which let’s also make it clear Dean’s trauma is also only used as a plot device (as is Sam’s but in a different way, and Cas’ trauma is a whole other barrel of fish we’re not gonna dive into right now). Like wholesale full stop they don’t actually care about what happened to him. Unless it’s relevant in an episode. 

Oh that boys home he was left at when he was 16 for months? Sure we’ll sprinkle that in in the back half of the series. Oh he was covered in bruises and said it was from a hunt (when it’s clear contextually they were from his father but saying the fantastical but true is easier than saying the uncomfortable but true). As Dean says though the story became the story, he was sixteen. He just went along with what John said.

We only see Dean ever truly rage at John, by the way, when either Dean is dead (when he’s between life and death and he rages at John, right before John “apologizes” for traumatizing him, for putting too much on Dean’s shoulders, and fucking dying) or John is dead (the Djinn episode where Dean is straight™ and John is dead™ and he goes to his grave and just yells and rages like he should have to his father in the real world).

Dean’s trauma from being both tortured and torturer in hell? Yeah, we don’t talk about that after it’s Relevant™. Even though it’s clear - especially in the demon!dean, mark of cain era, all those years later - Alastair still has his hooks inside of Dean. I stopped watching originally after s8 ended. I was fed up with the show, and with this whole renaissance I’ve been doing a rewatch and I’m into season twelve now and it really has never come up again. 

Even when he had the mark of cain and he was tasked with questioning and accused of torturing it was “the mark has changed you” and not “you were victim and victimizer in hell for forty years, which is longer than you’ve been alive on earth” (and, was about as long as he wound up living. Which is desperately sad.

Because we talk about Sam’s desire for a “normal” life but, Dean wanted out too. He was tired in the first few seasons of this show, he never had a chance to taste freedom (we don’t count the boys home, because that was a different kind of regimented life, and it was a false freedom) the way that Sam did in Flagstaff with Bones or at Stanford with Jessica. Love for Dean is sacrificing, it’s putting himself/his happiness/his well-being last.

Because Dean only knows love in the context of violence (like all of these fun examples, for starters) is a phrase that I’ve said a lot both in private chats and on here, and I absolutely think it goes to him being a tool (a blunt instrument, a plot device, so both textually and metatextually) instead of a person. Which Cas sees Dean’s shame/guilt and sees that side of Dean because he touched his soul, and saw more than just the Righteous™ man, more than just the tool, he saw A good man, not a machine. 

On the other side though you have how “bad guys” view Dean: Desperate, Sloppy, Needy, Dean’s hole (Again), which is again so wildly counterintuitive to the story of a Macho Man Hero™. You’re using vocabulary that is both queering him and feminizing (and I know this a meme format, but sincerely it is done in a derogatory way it is feminizing. It’s breaking him down to bare parts, to a sloppy hole). 

My whole rewatch I have been absolutely fascinated by how identity and free will is utilized/conceptualized on this show. Castiel has been my main focus, but Dean and how he is framed by himself and others is...fascinating - and frustrating. The writers inconsistency lends itself not only to this unintentionally queer character, but also one that again is incredibly easily read as a non-traditionally masculine character.

As a feminine character.

This show has so few female characters that of course it had to foist the roles/behaviors/plots that a female character might have onto a male character. Which I think is part of why reading Dean as trans (either transmasc, or transfemme) is so easily done like.   

Half of these are shit posts, but you can find trans allegories/textual evidence in this show again, again, again, again, and again. And this is unintentional, they don’t want you to look at Dean and see woman, former future or present. Like a lot of these I’m sure are punchlines for them, because women/queer folk are punchlines to them. 

Sometimes the only women in an episode are random witnesses who get two sentences of dialogue, and then the main guest character is a man. Who flirts with Dean, and Dean is receptive to it. 

They paint themselves into a corner, there are female Rabbi. So easily could Aaron have been a woman instead of a man, but they made the choice to play up the HaHa Dean & Men card. 

Because, again, Dean has filled the slot of Woman™ of Female Lead™ and the flirting would’ve been straight if Dean was a woman. It’s a plot device, they needed to have the guest character be disarming, be cute, make the main character flustered. 

It’s just the main character is a man, because they’re allergic to women. But they still need those female plots, tools of femininity, to move their show forward. I mean I am a big subscriber to transmasc Jo (no idea if anyone else is with me on this one, but let me explain). Jo is in love with Dean (concept) not Dean (actuality). Which, we’ve all had our eggs cracked by someone like that. We were in love with them until we realized we just wanted to be them.

He loved her like a little sister, she loved him like a lost idol. He’s a golden calf and she dies for him, because she believed in him, she was the original character dashed at the altar of the Winchesters. 

I fully believe if she had lived and if this show had a crumb of actual good writing Jo could have been a deeply compelling transmasc character. But I also think she’s a fascinating inversion of Dean. Dean is a Masculine Character who subverts Toxic Masculinity, Jo is a Tomboy™ she’s not your (if you take it straight, literally and metaphorically) average female love interest. She’s angry, she’s not soft at all, all edges and corners and thorns. She isn’t helpless, she’s stubborn but not in a “you’re going to get punished for this” way. She’s right when she’s stubborn. She’s helpful, she’s a martyr. 

I could do a whole other essay just on Jo (and Ellen, and Ash, what a fucking trio!) but needless to say Jo was one of the first...plot device feminine tools sacrificed to this show. She was a regular, she was unique, she was an engaging character, and she still died (to progress the plot? no. for man pain? yeah, for like three episodes maybe, and then it’s forgotten just like the rest of Dean’s trauma, as we mentioned above). 

Dean and Women and Love is a very interesting tool used too because. Boy they sure try to make Dean love women and it fails in small ways, and in big, meaningless, failed het domesticity (again) ways. Not to mention whatever Lust (in the form of a woman) having no effect upon him, when they could have used that moment to assert his Masculinity and Heterosexuality. He behaved normally? And...also...whatever the fuck the Adios thing was!

Like they have these opportunities to make him Traditionally (toxically) Masculine, but make the choice to...not? To soften him. Because it’s a tool. He’s their female lead, textually he had to take on the role of mother(/father) to Sam, but...I mean this is a million miles long already. I know, but we absolutely can’t not talk about his Paternal/Maternal behaviors. (Which appear again and again again and again, outside of his relationship with Sam even/especially). He’s the mother hen, sage, safety net, beacon, home to so many side characters they meet.

I mean in many ways Jody is also a Dean comparison. Lost her family. Found a new family. She is non-traditionally feminine, but easily flustered and Silly™ (let’s just drop the entire sex talk over family dinner scene with Alex and the boys and looking to them for help, even though she was already a mother, and she’s a cop, and a hunter and this confident no nonsense individual.... She’s not). We are meant to see her as this hard ass, but she makes extra food for the boys to take back to the bunker. She’s deadly in a fight, but also still easily overwhelmed and put into damsel mode, and she cares so much even in the face of adversity.

It’s also fun to see how Jo | Jody are reflections of Dean at different points of his life. Younger, cocky | Older, settled.

Even when the text tries to tell us that he’s not.

When it reminds us that he’s violent. That he is his father, even if he says that Sam is more like John (which was reflexive, which was angry because of Adam and how Sam was behaving like Dean in that episode, and yes there are parallels to be drawn between Sam and John, the show barely dives into them). Instead we’re told that Dean is John (Again and  Again and Again and Again). 

So intensely that a fanfictionalized version of the Winchester Gospels makes it an entire fucking musical number. 

And yet, despite the texts insistence to make Dean Macho Man Father Reborn™ We get this Dean who is silly (and directly compared/contrasted to the female character in this scene), soft, in heels, nagging, and... Sully (you know Sam’s imaginary friend who has the same Haircut Dean has, who is a softer, shorter, friendlier, campier, version of Dean who was a replacement For Dean until the real one let Sam back in? That? Sully?) it’s hard to take them seriously. 

Hell, even when he was A DEMON? What did they do? They had him sing off-key drunken karaoke, they had him doing this ! Like that’s your hero, unhinged, free to be as bad as he could be, and you put him in a cowboy hat in a romance with the king of hell. 

The Female Lead, everyone. Who’s biggest betrayal(s) comes at the hands of his love interest (again, a man even though it was an angel who could’ve taken any vessel! who could’ve been recast, who canonically dies admitting his love to Dean - that one), who he tries so hard to be loyal to. 

The contradictions of his character are laughable. He is so emotional, but if he is engaged about his emotions? He shuts down, or he’s exasperated about being asked about them. It really is Female Lead/Only Here For The Plot disease, because everything is more important than him. How’s he doing? Doesn’t matter outside of the context of how x character is doing or that y character is dead. Or his emotions only matter if they’re done in penance. 

They also really do frame him as Pretty Boy™ in a violent way, or in a derogatory manner. They’ll give us homoerotic shots like this or these and never really acknowledge how these are gay shots. Sorry the gun scene is a a straight up sex scene, the beer sip spilling out over his mouth is oral, the scene where Cas fills up Dean’s glass with whisky is also a sex scene, they do this shit on purpose but accidentally queer it up. If Dean was a woman these scenes wouldn’t even matter. They’d be passing moments, but because he is not just a man but A Man™ they’re insane to see.

Not to mention all of these scenes and all the ones I haven’t linked where Dean dresses up. He performs masculinity, but he performs femininity too. He’s a plot device that is slotted in to whatever role they need. He’s Super Straight Butch Man™ but coaches the lesbian on how to successfully flirt with a man. He’s Action Hero™ who sits through a montage with the same lesbian and yays and nays her outfits, and enjoys himself.

Fuck he loves dressing up, he feels better in these costumes because performing a character is easier than being himself. Because who is Dean? He’s a tool, both textually and metatextually. It is exactly how the women and because of the women on the show that Dean is the way that he is. If there was a more steady female presence Dean would not be half as much of a plot device or half as camp/gay/feminine/non-traditionally masculine/queer coded as he is. 

In conclusion....

[blackradandmad]

why blippi is rotting yr children's brains

preface: i literally expect no one to read this. it is an essay length, strong opinion piece critiquing a niche youtube-based children's show that i don't expect most of y'all to even have knowledge of lol. but like, i promise that even if you know nothing about what i'm talking about, in my incredibly, super humble opinion, it's a good piece of writing and interesting nonetheless. anyway if you read this whole thing for some reason yr really hot and we should kiss.

i thoroughly vet everything my child watches before he watches it, episode by episode. and we rarely watch youtube for entertainment; we usually just look up educational videos when he has a question about something and wants more detail than i can provide him. and that's mainly because children's content on youtube is so fucking troubling and distressing. i don't judge parents who give their children a tablet at a restaurant at all bc i've been there and sometimes it's easier on everyone to just put on a video and avoid a giant scene, but i do judge parents who just leave their children alone with youtube kids on autoplay.

take stevin john, a literal millionaire who got famous from dressing up as a silly character called blippi and going on tours of places like aquariums, zoos, construction sites, etc and posting it on youtube. this has branched into a whole empire of blippi videos, hulu shows and specials, live shows and tours (that he outsources to another character actor), merchandise and so on. this 30-something year old man cites his main influence as being mr. rogers, but i question if he's ever even seen an episode of that program.

mr. rogers had no background in early childhood development or media production, but he revolutionized the world of children's media, because he respected his audience and didn't shy away from real world situations, all while creating a show with an enormous heart. mr. rogers begins his episodes by inviting the viewer in, literally changing his attire to be more comfortable, and talking about/doing things he genuinely cares about. whereas mr. rogers calmly and maturely addresses the viewer, blippi puts on a high pitched, contrived voice, interjecting every other sentence with a forced exclamation such as, "teehee! we're having so much fun!"

i don't find it a coincidence that john (blippi) is a veteran, either. his videos are completely devoid of the absurd, abstract, childlike thinking that makes children's media fun, creative, and entertaining. his thinking and process is methodical, devoid of emotion, and very superficial. this line of thinking clearly shows the kind of creative sterilization and emphasis on sameness and conformity instilled in the military. blippi simply observes things and interacts with them in a stale, matter-of-fact way. "this ball is purple! this ball is pink! anyway... what's over there? teehee! a car! vroom, vroom!" objects are colors, toy cars don't do anything but drive, curiosity is simply not encouraged.

he uses the "it's educational!" excuse to hide the fact that his show lacks everything that makes media a valuable resource for children to consume in the first place. further than identifying colors, numbers, and the occasional letter or shape, there is just this total lack of children's need for social and emotional development. when mr. rogers breaks the fourth wall to address the viewer and let them know they're special, it feels authentic and natural, because we've spent the last half hour building whole worlds with diverse characters and unique stories in a pretend neighborhood, learning about and enjoying different musical instruments, being exposed to and making friends with (even if parasocially, it is still a real bond to children when done properly) children who are similar to us in character regardless of physical or environmental differences, feeding the fish, making art together, and so on. when blippi tells the viewer, "you are very special, and i enjoy spending time with you!" it falls completely flat and feels unearned, because the last half hour was spent running around a soft play center pointing at bright, colorful objects, visiting interesting locations like farms or fruit production factories while failing to acknowledge the humanity of the humans actually working there (everything is machine or product focused; the human workers are simply an extension of the machine), learning "fun facts" about elephants that just list attributes of elephants, not taking the opportunity to inform the viewers of elephants' intelligence, or diet, or matriarchal society. it is a loud, sensory overwhelming display of a man so disconnected from the social and emotional needs and desires of children that he assumes they're stupid, easily entertained idiots who only need some silly dances and fast-moving cartoon graphics to give their attention (meaning time and desire to purchase products meaning $$$). john clearly views his audience as a means to gaming the algorithm and ultimately a paycheck by the hollow way he addresses them.

the show is so narcissistic, so focused on all the fun blippi is supposedly having, but he lacks any of the character traits that make individual children's show hosts memorable, so much so that he was able to have someone else who doesn't even vaguely resemble him dress as blippi and impersonate him and host the show or appear at live shows, and it went unnoticed by most of his toddler and child audience. the show is so formulaic and the character of blippi is so unmemorable that instead of taking the blue's clues route of developing a story of the host leaving for college and his brother now stepping in, or making some sort of believable excuse for the change in actors, they can simply swap him out with some random guy and not acknowledge it at all. although a comedy show for older children, the amanda show in no way could or would try to replicate the show with the same name but swapping out amanda bynes with a random teenage girl who is clearly not amanda bynes. it's weird and nonsensical and shows that his character is so much of a farce put on for a paycheck that not even his dedicated audience is affected or even cares when he is replaced by a random, unknown person.

this is completely garbage content made by an opportunist with no experience with children who saw his nephew watching children's youtube content, took it at complete surface level and still hasn't realized that while children's content only looks and feels so easy, entertaining, and enriching because it is so hard to do well. even with outsourcing his music, that aspect of the show still sucks. famous and successful children's musician, raffi, is known for his song describing the life of a little white whale, called "baby beluga." it opens with a calm strumming of his guitar, followed by the lyrics, "baby beluga in the deep blue sea/swim so wild and you swim so free/heaven above/sea below/and a little white whale on the go." is it silly and kind of pointless? yes, but the point is that he is captivating children and showing them the fun of listening to music, dancing, singing, and appreciating art. the "excavator song" featured in an episode of blippi about construction vehicles opens with what sounds like a default garageband loop and the flatly sung lyrics, "i'm an excavator/i'm an excavator/hey dirt, see you later/i'm an excavator." i don't feel i have to meticulously analyze the aforementioned lyrics; the stark contrast should speak for itself.

i have a million more criticisms about both blippi specifically and youtube children's content as a whole, but this is already so long and i doubt many people will get this far anyway. it's an issue i was completely apathetic towards until i had my own child and had to wean him off these kinds of junk food shows because i realized the fast-paced visuals and bright colors and repetitive songs/lyrics were putting him in this spaced-out, fugue state, and he thought he could demand this show or that show whenever he wanted. the moment he started regularly yelling things like, "watch! cars!" or "no! click it!" i knew i had to be a lot more invested in the things he watched even if just for entertainment or as a soothing message. i showed him an episode of mr. rogers yesterday and feared it would be too slow to hold his attention, but he was mesmerized, greeting and interacting with mr. rogers verbally, asking me, "what's that?" to different objects on the screen. since purging this low-brow children's entertainment, he has had a noticeable increase in attention span and concentration, can focus on a task for longer amounts of times, is more likely to "read"/look through books without me initiating it, and doesn't throw a fit when the tv/my laptop is off.

i just know that for me, growing up with so much unsupervised internet access definitely led me to real-world pain and consequences, and it seems like now children are born with an iphone as an extension of their arm. if my child is going to be consuming videos, i'm definitely supervising every second and am going to be highly critical of the videos and the credentials (or lack thereof) of the creators and team behind it. but i also know, from pure observation admittedly, that parents letting youtube kids autoplay parent their children for hours at a time is not an uncommon occurrence. and it worries me that a generation of children are being raised on videos that rely on being as loud and bright and superficially enjoyable as possible. what's the use of a child knowing their colors and alphabet if they don't know how to treat people with kindness and empathy and respect? there is something wrong for a children's show host to plug the spelling of his name at the end of his videos ("well, that's the end of this video. but if you wanna watch more of my videos, just type in my name! can you spell my name with me? b-l-i-p-p-i!") after essentially rotting his audiences' brains for a half hour. there's something so insidious about the prioritization of naming different parts of construction vehicles over honest depictions of and conversations about dealing with feelings, or why someone with autism may act differently than you, or what to do when you feel lonely, or ways to make art and express yrself creatively. also, not to mention the blatant police propaganda and outright worship is seriously jarring; as a black mother to a visibly non-white child, i cannot sit there and watch blippi show kids how to be a bootlicker for the shittiest profession on earth, but that could be a whole essay in and of itself.

anyway, thanks for reading, if yr looking for quality children's content, i recommend, in no specific order: mr. rogers, sesame street, the electric company, molly of denali, daniel tiger, bluey!, blue's clues, the odd squad, word party, trash truck, puffin rock, uhh... that's definitely not an extensive list but that's just off the dome!!! ok bye y'all <333

[oddshelbyout]

Forever // John Shelby X Fem!Reader

Summary: You get a letter that declares your husband, John dead during the war. Just as you were slowly getting used to the pain, a miracle brings him home.

Warnings: Mention of death (non graphic), Angst

Word Count: 1668

Author’s Notes:

I needed to write some angst and this is how it ended up. I’m really proud of this one even though I don’t think it’s as angsty as I intended to make it. I hope you enjoy it <3

English is not my first language and I’m not always confident about my work so please let me know if I make any mistakes or anything I can fix in my writing.

You can ask to be added to my taglist. You can be tagged to works on a specific character or just any of my works. Please dm me or send your wish to my ask box if you’d like to be added.

Requests are open. You can request any Peaky Blinders related imagines or prompts for me to write. I’m a minor so I don’t take NSFW requests, please keep that in mind.

———————

You were lying on John’s childhood bed. It had been your bed ever since he got shipped off to France. The house you lived together in felt empty and the double bed you slept together was lonely.

With all the boys being on the battlefield, expect Finn. The Shelby women were staying together, taking care of business and each other.

It had been two years since they left when you got the letter. The letter was delivered to the house you and John lived. You didn’t realise it existed until a few weeks later. You wished you never realised.

The letter declared John dead. He was presumed killed in action. He had originally gone missing and afterwards was called dead.

You hadn’t opened the letter until you were with Polly. You could feel that it was something bad. If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be delivered in the first place.

Your eyes started bawling out the moment you read the first few words. Polly had his arms around you, much calmer than you. She didn't shed a single tear. Ada was there too but unlike Polly, she was crying. Not as much as you did of course.

One might’ve assumed they would cry more. They were family by blood. You cried most because you had less time with him and that time wasn’t enough for you.

When you finally let go of the letter, his eyes appeared behind your closed ones. You couldn't open them, you didn’t want to see a world where he wasn’t in. It got easier after a while but then, you started hearing his voice. How he called you “Love” and “Darling” and occasionally “Baby”.

Thankfully you had Ada and Polly and even Finn. The youngest Shelby was your best distraction. All of them had the same pain though with different ways to show it. Polly got more aggressive after learning about John’s death and Ada got more passive. Finn just stopped playing with his toy guns.

You got used to the fact that your husband wasn’t going to return from the war. It hurt but you got used to it. You knew there was a possibility of that happening but never thought it would actually happen.

You were lucky that you were already staying with the other remaining Shelbys in Small Heath. John’s childhood bed felt more like your own bed after learning about his death.

You got so used to the Shelby home that you even forgot you had a house you lived with John in. Maybe you just chose to forget. The bed you were sleeping was more comfortable anyway.

You sat on the bed. You didn’t feel like doing anything productive so you just sat and read your book. You had become somewhat numb. The book in your hands would’ve made you cry if it was a few months ago.

You barely understood anything you read so Finn suddenly opening the door was a gift. “You have to come down Y/N.” he said with his not yet thickened voice.

You sighed, “Can’t it wait until I finish this chapter at least?” Finn shook his head. “Polly said now.” you rolled your eyes. You couldn’t think of anything that could be this urgent.

“And you always do as Polly told right?” you mocked Finn. He seemed upset by it and looked into your eyes, putting pressure on you. You closed your book and before letting Finn say anything, you left the room.

You slowly walked down the stairs, Finn behind you. When you got down, “Pol?” you called out for her. You looked around and just as you were going back upstairs you heard footsteps.

You turned your back, expecting Polly, you were going to ask her what was so urgent. Instead you saw John. His face reflected his tiredness. His eyes were looking dead. He had a cane in his hand, you examined him from head to toe. You thought you were hallucinating.

You gasped. You blinked a few times. Your eyes teared up. “John.” you said quietly. Your whole body went numb. Finn looked at John and then you. Polly appeared behind John, her face was wet from tears.

You couldn’t stand still. You collapsed on the floor. It was dark. You heard John calling your name, felt Polly’s hard slaps on your cheeks. You couldn’t open your eyes.

“Finn get her water.” Polly ordered, you heard the boy’s footsteps. A harder slap from Polly came afterwards. You opened your eyes. John’s eyes blocked your sight. “You.” was all you could say.

Finn came back with a glass of water. You tried to sit up, Polly offered you her hand. John was silent. He was on his knees beside you, he was in pain. He took support from his cane and stood up.

“Finn, go upstairs.” Polly told the boy, he nodded and rushed upstairs. “He’s supposed to be dead!” you shouted at Polly then looked at your husband. You took the water from Polly’s hand and took a sip.

“Let’s get you up Baby.” you heard him say. You thought you’d never hear his voice again, you thought you’d never be called baby and feel the way you did when he said it. It should’ve felt like a blessing, a miracle but it felt more like a curse.

You stood up by yourself without any help. “Why don’t we sit down.” John said, looking towards the door of the living room. You nodded silently. Every breath you took felt like the first.

You sat down on the couch, John sat down beside you. “I’ll leave you two alone.” she said and left, probably going upstairs to Finn.

“Y/N, why won’t you look at me?” he asked. He noticed he avoided his gaze. You felt like none of it was real. “You were supposed to be dead.” you mumbled, barely able to speak.

Your voice cracked, John seemed to share the pain you were in. You couldn’t understand why you weren’t happy about this. John understood, you were in shock. You were just getting used to his loss and now you knew it was all a lie.

You cried, you didn’t know what to see, neither John did. You sobbed, John pulled you to himself. His arms felt safer than ever. He gave you a kiss on the forehead. Your tears wetted his shirt.

“Why aren’t you dead!” you were angry that you had to go through that grief even though it wasn’t true. You pushed yourself out of his arms.

John held your face between his two hands. “Look at me Love, I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” he assured you.

“But…” you tried to speak but he interrupted. “I got captured.” he said, it was obviously hard for him to talk about it. He felt like he owed you the explanation, he had to tell you about it no matter how hard it was.

“I was tortured, you got the letter when I was in the enemy's hands.” he swallowed, his eyes teared up. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard.” he let go of your face and held your hand instead.

“I have to.” he whispered, you nodded telling him to continue. “I was found only a few weeks ago, I needed treatment so they transported me back here.” he took a deep breath. “John…” you said before biting your lip.

“Y/N just listen.” John said softly, “Okay” you mouthed. You squeezed his hands in support. “They told me the war is over for me, at least this one.” he said, “I’m home and I’m not going back.” his voice was still.

“I wish I could be happy right now but I’m just in more pain.” you confessed. “I know but I’m here and as long as we have each other it’s okay.” you hugged him. You hugged him tighter than you ever did and ever will.

John started crying too. His tears fell on your hair and yours fell on his shoulders. He was here, you were hugging him, you were talking to him, he called you “Baby” again. You expected to wake up from this dream but it was real.

“No more grieving.” he whispered here. “No more going to bed alone.” you said. “No more being apart, we’ll be together forever.” his words just made you cry more.

It was the first time you saw John cry and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time. The way he stood and spoke told you he was a different man now but it didn’t matter. You were in his arms and he was in yours.

“Has Ada seen you?” you asked while still holding him close. “Not yet.” he said softly, “She’s gonna be so happy to see you.” you replied back.

“Definitely happier than Finn was.” he said, it made you chuckle and put a smile on both of your faces. “I love you so much.” you cried and all he could say was “Me too.”.

Neither of you spoke for a while. There was nothing left to say, maybe there was a lot to talk about but it wasn’t the time. Your safe silence in each other’s arms was cut with Ada entering the room.

“Fucking hell!” she screamed, “Have I gone mad?” she shouted. You and John laughed unintentionally at her reaction. Polly came running, “I guess it’s time to have a family meeting.” she said while Ada stood there her jaw dropped.

Ada was calmer than you were and so was Polly. Neither of you expected it but it was a miracle anyway. It was your miracle. You were finally at ease while you still had that little but of grief left.

The happiness didn’t appear until you were getting ready for bed. You weren’t going to sleep alone. John wasn’t sleeping on the uncomfortable hospital bed or in the trench. It was the most peaceful night you had in ages.

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

You know how we have pet costumes? Give Jacob one, make him a cute space cowboy😈😈😈

WE'RE BACK BABY

Please enjoy this little ficlet (that was actually my 3rd attempt to write a fluffy ficlet for this universe because all the other ones kept becoming future chapters lmao)

--

“This is humiliating. I look like sheriff Woody or something.”

“Aw, I was thinking more like John Wayne Gacy, you know?”

“The...the clown serial killer…?”

Angie pursed her lips. “Wait, who was the cowboy guy in all the old movies? Like, before Clint Eastwood and whatever.”

“That’s John Wayne. Not John Wayne Gacy,” Jacob tugged at the sleeves of his costume and readjusted his cowhide vest. “And I don’t feel anywhere near as cool as him right now.”

She rolled her eyes and crinkled her nose. “That’s because you’re not cool. You’re a grown man playing dress up with a kindergartener.”

“So are you.”

Angie straightened her Native American headpiece and threw one of her braided pigtails behind her. “Yeah, but I know it’s stupid, so therefore I’m doing it ironically which makes me cool.”

Jacob sighed heavily but didn’t argue further, instead tugging his cowboy hat down further to shield his face that burned with embarrassment. Being forced into having playdates with his captor’s coworker was nothing new. He had spent plenty of time being Mibao’s sole playmate aboard the ship, doing the best he could to keep the six year girl entertained and not too psychologically damaged. Being the youngest in a sibling group of only boys, he was a bit rusty when it came to knowing anything about kids. Thankfully, Mibao was more than happy to take him by the hand and show up all the “fun” things she used to either do back home or what she would now do with her “kitty”.

Today’s game of choice was dress up. Every day felt like dress up when it came to the girl’s ever expanding wardrobe; she was always dressed in an obnoxiously puffy and sparkling princess dress fashioned with ribbons and bows galore and always with a matching crown. Fine, no big deal, he could slap a tiara on his head and call it a day, he’d worn worse at the few fraternity parties he attended during college. Nope, not good enough. Mibao had a very specific game she wanted to play which involved him wearing a cowboy costume of all things. A very realistic and detailed cowboy costume, assless chaps and spurs and all. Again, he could...handle it for the most part. The only thing that really bothered him about it was all the coos and giggles he received from both his and Mibao’s captors when he finally came out in his new outfit.

And he knew for a fact they took many, many pictures of him.

It didn’t end there, Mibao still had more requests. Angie needed to join in as well and she was required to be an “indian princess” to partake. Naturally, she was more than happy to agree if it meant getting a break from the absolute nightmare of a captor she had been saddled with. So, now Jacob had to deal with the fact that she would have to watch him play pretend in this ridiculous getup. He could never catch a break with her, it seemed, she always had to catch him when he was in the middle of doing something cringe worthy. She didn’t even look half as uncomfortable as him and she was literally wearing half as much clothing.

Or maybe that was exactly why she was so comfortable as she sauntered up to him, making a finger pistol to tip his hat away from his face. “Cheer up, partner,” she teased. “I think it makes you look cute.”

“I think it makes me look like Owen Wilson from the museum movie,” Jacob replied, hoping the shadow of the brim hid his reddening cheeks.

“Oh my God, you are a tiny little twink cowboy, huh?”

“I’d rather be the gladiator guy.”

“You wish you could pull off being the gladiator guy.”

A rebuttal was on the tip of his tongue when Mibao made her appearance from behind the monitor where she had been changing. This time instead of her usual princess attire, she was dressed...pretty much the same, only this time she had a tiny pair or iridescent fairy wings attached to the back. What a fairy had to do with cowboys and indians, he hadn’t the faintest idea. She stopped when she saw the two of them and stuck out her tongue in childish disgust.

“Eww, stop kissing!” She scolded. “You can kiss the princess later, Jake, it’s time to play!”

Jacob had never been more grateful in his life that the creatures idly watching them couldn’t understand English because he just might have died if they heard. He could feel the heat radiating from his nape to his cheeks, putting his hands up in defense like it could keep Angie away from him.

“Wh-no! We weren’t, we weren’t kissing, Reagan, w-we-!”

Angie only cackled, her amusement stemming more from Jacob’s panicked response than the actual accusation of giving him a kiss. “Yeah, cowboy, you can kiss me later.” She winked and nudged him with her elbow as she walked past to where Mibao was waiting.

He groaned, tugging the hat down as far as it would go even if that meant obscuring his vision somewhat. That was totally fine, he didn’t want to look at anyone right now and he did not want to be perceived either. The child was leading them back over to her designated play area scattered with art supplies and stuffed toys for where they’ll play their game of make believe. Angie was already sitting on her knees by the time he shuffled over and beckoned him with a sly smile to come take a seat on the ground next to her. Jacob obliged, but refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing his beet red face.

As soon as they were settled, Mibao immediately launched into the exposition of the scene they would be putting on, including their roles and superpowers (that only she had because she was a magical fairy queen). Jacob was only half listening; the kid usually forgot half of her own rules in the middle of playing anyways because she wanted to change the story and it wasn’t that hard to follow her game of make believe. Instead, he kept side-eying Angie, who was side-eying him back, and every time they made eye contact she would smile and bump his shoulder with hers.

This was going to be a long playdate.

--

The lab door slid open as Talan walked in, peeling off his bloodied gloves to dispose of them in Ylva’s waste bin. “I need my human back.”

“Aw, why? They’re all having a ball together!” Ylva frowned, gesturing to the miniature trio on her desk. Well, the smallest one and Talan’s pet seemed like they were having a good time, namely at the expense of the other human in a hat. They all seemed to stop at the interruption, his human fixing him with a sneer that he was tempted to match.

“What the fuck is it wearing?” He asked, ignoring all the little protests he got when he grabbed it and plucked the stupid looking feather thing of its head. “I thought you said it’s not nice to torment the humans.”

Edix scoffed at him, though his annoyance was more from Talan being in his general vicinity than anything. “It’s not torment. They were having fun.”

Talan did not look convinced in the slightest, his eyes sweeping over the pup who was pouting at him for taking away its playmate and the other who froze any time he breathed in its direction. Like owner, like pet, he assumed as it seemed to unconsciously inch closer to where Edix’s hand was resting for a better sense of security. Pathetic. At least his pet had a bit more self respect and wasn’t afraid to try and stab him in the hand with his own tools. Of course, it got a sharp flick to the stomach to knock it off, but he could appreciate the gumption.

Talan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, looks like a real party. So sad to have missed it.”

“Like you’ve ever been to a party to know what it looks like.”

“Says the one that only hangs out with plants.”

“Okay,” Ylva interjected, rising from her chair and scooping up her adorable little human. “You’re right, we should probably wrap this up, Mibao’s going to need a nap soon and she likes to fight her naps when she’s excited.”

That was all the excuse Talan needed to dip out without a formal goodbye, though it didn’t escape the corner of his eye how Edix’s human took a half step forward when he left, almost like it wanted to say something. Even if it did, he wouldn’t have cared. As quickly as he had intruded, Talan disappeared back down the main hall of the fauna department to return to his lab.

Edix stood up as well and tucked the data pad he had been keeping busy with under his arm to keep his hands free. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing how much closer his little pet was standing to him, even if it wasn’t by much, even though it was caused by Talan of all bastards. A win was a win in his book. The hand the human had been partly hiding behind curled easily around it to lift it up, immediately cradling it to his chest as usual. It squirmed for a moment but settled quick enough, a clear sign it was also ready to go back to the lab it was accustomed to. For a social species, the little one always seemed so drained after any playdate Ylva arranged for their pets. Fine by him, it usually meant his human was much more quiet and well behaved once it was back in the solitude of Edix’s company, making for an easier work day.

He used his finger to tilt back the wide brimmed hat it had been using to hide its sweet little face a majority of the playdate, earning him a surprised squeak. With the way its baby cheeks were turning an adorable shade of pink, Edix had a fairly good guess as to why it was trying to avoid everyone’s line of sight. Damn, he should have had Ylva take more pictures, this was way too cute for him. It reached up to quickly pull its shield back down and Edix let it with a laugh, cooing as he tugged at its little vest instead which only made it wriggle in distress. Overdramatic little thing.

“Can I keep this costume?” He asked as he followed behind Ylva who was preparing to put her own pup down for a nap. In reality, it meant she was going to have to play with it for at least another half an hour because, much like him, she was a sucker when it came to her human wanting to play. The difference being that Mibao wanted to do anything from coloring to singing to continuing its game of make believe while Edix’s pet always wanted to play chase.

Ylva smiled and shrugged. “Sure, I mean, it’s not like it’s going to fit the baby. It was printed for its measurements specifically, anyways.” Mibao was proving to be difficult in its refusal to relinquish the shiny wings Ylva had designed at its request, something that Ylva quickly made a game out of by setting her pup on the desk and letting it squeal and run while her hands chased after it. That would tire the kid out in no time. She looked back at his human and giggled. “I don’t think it likes it very much, though.”

Oh yeah, that was obvious from the get go, but it didn’t change the fact that it was way too precious for its own good in this type of outfit. Edix actually quite liked the contrast of the dark brown against its pale skin, even more given the fact that it matched the color of its doe eyes perfectly. It was much more appealing than that splotchy green jacket it was inexplicably attached to. He had a feeling it was going to try and strip out of this outfit as soon as it was back in Edix’s lab, provided he gave it its normal suit and jacket to change into. But...maybe he didn’t have to offer it its spare set of clothes right away. Maybe it would just have to hang around in its little boots and hat for a couple hours longer while he finished up his latest report that was just so important to get done. And maybe he would get constantly distracted by how cute it looked while it was definitely pouting at him for not taking off its costume that it took a little longer than usual to finish his work, which meant it spent even longer pouting under its hat.

Decisions, decisions.

Edix waved his hand dismissively. “It’ll learn to love it.”

“Oh, Eddie, don’t be mean to it,” Ylva laughed, not that seemed bothered by the idea of his pet keeping the outfit on for an extended period of time beyond the playdate. “But send pictures if you do.”

[wouldpollyapprove]

Child’s Play

Summary:  She will only ever be seen as a child in Tommy’s eyes. That’s what she gets for being Finn’s friend. No matter, her feelings for the man refuse to fade. Finn tried to help her, tried to get something out of his brother, but the man was unbreakable. Y/n decides that maybe it’s time to move and the best way to do that is to avoid him. If she can’t see him then he can’t bother her, right? Wrong. You can’t avoid Thomas Shelby.

Request: Helloo can i request an imagine where the reader is way younger than tommy(maybe around finn's age or between him or john)works for him and has a major crush on him but she's vv insecure bc of her age, grace has already died, and because it's very hard to figure out if tommy likes her or not, so she gets sad bc she really wants to be with him and have children other than his own

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Lanuage, age gap

A/N: I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. Sure, it didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted it to, but it’s pretty good either way. Oneshot requests are still closed and I wish you guys would respect that. It’s not all of you, just some. I want to have all my oneshot requests done before I open requests back up and I can’t do that if people keep sending them in.

Masterlist 

Life was hard.

That was a common fact that everyone knew. Y/n didn’t believe herself to be any the wiser for knowing that one simple thing. It just made life easier to deal with. When the market was out of apples or her seamstress ruined her favorite dress, she simply remembered that life is hard. That meant that not everything was supposed to go her way. She didn’t fret over anything, knowing it wasn’t worth it. Life was hard and if it was meant to happen then it would happen.

However, she was young and naive, and those words didn’t always mean as much as they should have. 

Her life became extremely hard when she started working for Thomas Shelby. Y/n had been a friend of his youngest brother’s, Finn, since they were children. The two would often be found creating havoc throughout the streets of Small Heath along with the other children they’d befriended. Y/n never spent much time at the Shebly household, though. Her mother always wanted her home in time for supper with enough time to get chores done before the table was set. 

Finn and Y/n were close, not as close as Finn and Isiah were, but they were close nonetheless. And Finn cared enough to get her a job at his family’s company when she was old enough. It was a sweet offer that she couldn’t pass up. Her parents didn’t bring in much money and what was brought in her father usually spent on beer. So with shaking hands, she entered Thomas Shelby’s office and accepted the job. 

She wasn’t given an easy job, being one of Tommy’s secretaries, but not for the reason she would have thought.

“Don’t tell me it’s still bothering you,” Finn rolled his eyes, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. The two sat across from each other in his family’s private room at the Garrison. It was one of Y/n’s days off and it had been a slow day for Finn so he decided the two needed a drink. Being early in the day, just around noon, the pub was empty except for them.

Y/n leaned back in her chair, a sigh escaping her lips. “Yeah, I mean I see him every day. What am I supposed to do, forget about him?”

Her friend nodded and handed her a drink.

She scoffed, taking the drink. Looking down at the amber liquid, she said, “You just don’t get it, Finn. I know I don’t stand a chance. Fuck, every woman in fucking Small Heath has fallen for your brother. I’m not special and I know that, but that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“God, you really like him, don’t you?” he shook his head, a smile on his lips.

Y/n nodded, taking a sip of her drink. She hated how she felt. She had always been an emotional person. Not everything made her cry, but it wasn’t hard to have tears prick her eyes. She hated being confronted or yelled at because the tears always showed up and didn’t know when to take their leave. And that didn’t change when she started to feel something towards her employer. Those feelings were always present and could never leave her alone. Y/n tried her best to keep it from interfering with her work, but it was hard when the man was always around her.

Y/n hated that she loved, not liked, Thomas Shelby.

“Yeah, I do,” she mumbled more to herself than Finn.

At first, she hadn’t even realized she was falling for the man. But over time, Finn started to notice something was off. He had known her long enough to know when something was wrong and something was definitely wrong. Y/n would have thought that he would be upset with her for liking his brother, but he simply laughed. Honestly, if she was in his position, she would have to. Since then, Finn went out of his way to tease her about it.

“I could probably talk to him for you,” Finn offered, giving her a small encouraging smile.

Y/n shook her head. “I don’t need you to do that, Finn. It’s my problem, not yours.” There was a short pause while she sipped at her whiskey. “I can barely talk to him on my own, it wouldn’t be worth having you do anything.”

He laughed, “Did you ever think that it’s him and not you? Tommy is shit at communicating with people, doesn’t matter who it is. And have you seen the way he looks at you?”

“He has only ever seen me as a child,” she scoffed. “And he lets me know every day.”

“You know he’s not good with feelings, right?”

Y/n rolled her eyes. Sometimes she wished she was as distant when it came to emotions as the man she loved. It would probably make life miserable, but not as miserable as she was at the moment. “What about Grace, uh? He still loves her. And what about Charlie? Tommy seems to be content with what he has.”

Finn leaned forward, looking his friend dead in the eye. “Grace was everything he was looking for in a woman, but that doesn’t make it love. She betrayed him and didn’t do much for Tommy but give him a son. That’s it. He’s moved on.” He shifted in his seat. “Tommy deserves someone real and Charlie deserves a mother. I hate to say this, but I hope it’d be you. You care a lot about Tommy and his wellbeing and if he can’t see that then fuck him.”

Maybe that was true, maybe it wasn’t. Y/n had no clue, but she hoped that there was truth to what Finn had said. She hoped that something would happen. It was stupid, she felt like a school girl all over again, waiting for her crush to make a move. She just hoped that there was some truth to those words, maybe then she stood a chance.

*~~*~~*

A few days later, Finn had found himself over at Tommy’s house, helping him look over plans for a new stable. John and Arthur were supposed to be there, but they both had family matters to deal with. It didn’t matter, though, as the work was small and gave more time for drinking. 

Sitting in one of the house’s many sitting rooms, Finn leaned back in his chair while he watched his brother fetch a bottle of whiskey. The conversation he’d had with Y/n days earlier was still at the front of his mind. He felt bad for her, for the position she was stuck in. Finn knew all too well how hard it was to fall for someone and he remembered Y/n telling him almost the same thing he had told her the other day. He wanted to do something for her, help her out any way he could, but what was he to do? There was little that could be done when it came to his cold, distant brother. Few could get through to him and even fewer could read what he was thinking. But Finn was certain of one thing, the way Tommy looked at Y/n. It was more loving than how he had once looked at Grace. It wasn’t lust, it was love. It was more than just one emotion. It was happiness, love, lust. Anything that sparked joy, that is what his eyes showed when he looked at Y/n. Finn knew his brother felt something for his friend and he was going to get him to admit it.

Tommy reappeared with a full bottle of whiskey and poured himself and his brother a glass. He handed one to Finn before taking a seat across from him. “Are you ready to go to the races?”

Finn looked over at him and shrugged. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been before. “I suppose.”

“There shouldn’t be any problems this time,” his brother commented. Mentioning the races gave the youngest Shelby an idea. “Could Y/n come then?”

Tommy raised a brow, sipping at his drink. “Why?” his voice was flat, not exposing anything. 

“Why not? She’s never been and if it’s supposed to be calm then I don’t see why not,” he explained.

“No.”

Finn frowned and rolled his eyes. “Come on Tommy, why?”

The older brother sighed in frustration. “Because she’s never been and she would just be a distraction for you. Y/n’s practically a child as it is, she’d just get in the way.”

“She the same age as I am! Why can I go but she can’t?”

“Because this is family business and you’re family!” Tommy almost shouted at him. “Y/n probably wouldn’t want to be around a bunch of Peaky Blinders as it is.”

A laugh escaped the younger brother’s lips causing Tommy to frown and set his glass down. “Are you blind or something?” Finn asked, laughing. “Are you? Do you not see that she likes you? It’s very fucking obvious! The fucking king would even notice! Not to mention, you seem to feel the same way. So, why don’t you invite her and make a date out of it?”

Tommy rolled his eyes and decided to stare out the window. He was silent for a long while, Finn sitting restless opposite of him. “She’ll get over it. They always do.”

Finn sighed in defeat. He wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to accomplish but it wasn’t going to happen. Nothing was going to happen. Thomas Shelby was a brick wall, that was how Finn could best describe him. A brick wall that nothing could penetrate. You could throw things over it, but more often than not, everyone fell short. 

Now, what was he going to tell Y/n? He tried, he really did, but there was no breaking Thomas Shelby. He was a selfish bastard that only cared about his own wellbeing. Sure, he’d tell people everything he did was for them, but it was nothing but a lie. He only ever cared about himself.

*~~*~~*

It had been a few weeks since Finn and Y/n had talked in the Garrison and things with Tommy hadn’t improved at all. In fact, they had somehow gotten worse. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but the man was more distant than normal. But only towards her. He never called her into his office to go over paperwork like he used to, instead asking for Lizzie. And he did his best to keep her out of things. Everything she used to be a part of, she was shut out of.

Y/n tired to think nothing of it at first. Tommy was a strange man and his mood changed with the wind. It wasn’t worth it to read into anything. But then there came a point when she had enough and wanted nothing more than to confront Tommy. She told Finn about it but he simply told her to leave it alone, that it wasn’t worth bringing up to his brother, so she didn’t. 

Instead, with all the newfound time on her hands, she was given time to rethink her life. She no longer wanted to be hung up on a man who would never love her back. Why waste her time when there were plenty of men who wanted her? Y/n laughed thinking about all the times she had refused men’s advances because she thought that Tommy would come around. Foolish. Fucking stupid. She was wasting her life and she just couldn’t do that any longer.

So, she wasn’t going to.

Y/n then started to go on dates, they were boring, but it was better than sitting at home, feeling sorry for herself. Some of them worked in the factories, covering dust, and others were businessmen that wanted nothing to do with Small Heath. It was too poor for them, too dirty, too this, too that. It always made her wonder why they wanted anything to do with her as she was a great example of what came from Small Heath. No matter how many dates she went on, though, she found nothing she liked. But she just had to wait it out, the right one would come.

She was only 19, she had time to find someone and settle down. But there was only one man she wanted to do that with.

In the back of her mind, she still had feelings for Tommy, but if she never spoke of them, then she believed they weren’t real. He no longer caused her problems and was only apart of her work life. And as Tommy started to distance himself from her in the office, she decided to do the same. It would help her move on because being hung up on that man would be the death of her if she didn’t.

Putting her finished paperwork in a file, Y/n placed it in a bin on her desk for Tommy to look at later. She stood from her chair, placing a few files on Lizzie’s desk for her to go over the next day and started to clean her own. The door to Tommy’s office opened, but she didn’t hear it close, telling her he was lurking in the doorway, something he was known to do. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated.

Y/n shrugged, not bothering to look up at him. “Only because you have.”

He was silent for a second, searching his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. Once found, he dragged it between his lips before placing it between them and liting a match. “It’s nothing personal, Y/n. Just business.”

She scoffed, searching for her bracelet that had fallen off earlier in the day. She thought it landed in one of her drawers, but they were both empty. “Oh, yeah, I figured,” she spat. “Everythings always about business to you.”

Try as he might, Tommy couldn’t fool her. Y/n knew what it was like to not be welcome. To be pushed away. Most of her life, her father wanted nothing to do with her and he often did what Tommy was doing now. Without saying anything, he would just leave her out of things and when she was in the room, he would keep her out of the conversation. The girl was used to it at home, but she didn’t like the treatment at work. And not from someone she cared about.

“I’m glad you understand.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and finally looked up at him. “You’re glad I understand? Understand what? That you’re a fucking arsehole? Yeah, I’m glad I understand that.”

“Y/n I-” he was cut off before he could say anything more.

“I’ve been avoiding you because you’ve been avoiding me. And I know Finn talked to you, I’m not stupid and that boy is shit at keeping secrets! So, how about you just tell me how you feel instead of keeping me from my work? I’d rather know the truth than be treated like shit!”

Tommy didn’t say anything, he just stood there, blank face and all. It was hard to read him, but Y/n didn’t even bother, if he couldn’t give her an answer then she wanted nothing to do with him. 

“Forget it,” she mumbled and grabbed her coat off the hook. Shrugging it on, she headed for the door, leaving Tommy standing in the doorway of his office. 

The man let out a sigh once he saw her slip out the office door. Pushing himself off the door, he went after her. He didn’t know what he was going to say as he wasn’t good at expressing his emotions, but he couldn’t let her leave like that. He’d seen what pushing her away had done, Y/n was miserable yet she pretended to be cheerful and happy. It broke his heart that he had caused that and Finn made sure he knew it. 

“Y/n wait,” he jogged after her once on the street.

She sighed, turning around as he came to a stop. “What now? You want to tell me it’s childish to be upset over this? That it’s just fucking life? What Tommy?”

He shook his head. “No, no. None of that. I just…” He let out a sigh. This was one conversation he should have thought through first. “I like you I do. Fuck, I might even love you, but I can’t risk it. Not with what happened to Grace, not with what’s happened to everyone around me. I can’t do that to you.”

“You can’t do that, but you forget it’s not just your choice. Everyone in your life has chosen to be there no matter what happens,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m Finn’s friend, I work for you, so no matter what I’m at risk. So don’t give me that bullshit.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/n,” he sighed, a look of defeat in his eyes. “I would rather see you sitting at your desk, alive, then dying in my arms somewhere down the road.”

Y/n laughed, giving him a small smile. Tommy raised a brow at the action, unsure what caused such a reaction. “Life happens, Tommy. We can’t predict it and we can rarely change it. It’s not worth fretting over especially when you’re not in control. But I know how I feel,” she told him. “I love you and I’ve tried not to, but it doesn’t work like that. I love you, Tommy, and I could see a life with you, but if you can’t see that then fine. Just tell me and you never have to hear about it again.”

Tommy took a drag of his cigarette, processing her words. He looked around, distracting himself with the people on the street. Was he ready to risk it? Was he ready to willingly put his heart on his sleeve for a woman again? He wanted a life with Y/n, she was smart, beautiful, and caring. Tommy could honestly see himself with her and maybe down the road, they would have a few kids. “Come one.” 

He tugged on her arm and started walking away. Y/n quickly fell in step beside him. Looking over at him, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“To dinner and I promise I’ll stop pushing you away if you do the same.”

A smile lite up Y/n’s face. She honestly didn’t think she’d get through to him, but the man was full of surprises. She knew that it would take Tommy time to adjust to being in a relationship, she understood that, but she was willing to wait.

*~~*~~*

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@amirahiddleston @captivatedbycillianmurphy @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu

[leverage-commentary]

Leverage Season 2, Episode 10, The Runway Job, Audio Commentary Transcript

[Silence]

John: Marc?

Marc: Hi, I'm Marc Roskin, Producer and Director of this episode.

John: I'm John Rogers, Executive Producer, and the one with the Guinness, so you have no excuse for missing that cue.

Albert: And I'm Albert Kim, I'm the writer of the Runway Job.

John: Here we go. And this is a great opening sequence, what- is this a set Marc Roskin? How did you create this incredible look?

Marc: This is the largest girls school uniform factory on the west coast, and they-

John: So this is some sort of internet connection where you order school uniforms or-?

Marc: It was very hot. No, this was-

Albert: Strangely Marc knows a lot about girls’ school uniforms. I don’t know why, but-

Marc: Yes, this was an actual working factory. A lot of the background workers are some of the factory employees who knew how to operate the machines. It was right across the river, really close, and they opened their doors to us just like everybody did in Portland.

John: I love the fact that we wanted to do a fake sweatshop, so when we shot in there, when they saw the hours they shot the workers in the fake sweatshop, we're like, ‘These hours are horrible. How can you people work under these conditions?’ And Albert, since we’ve just seen someone collapse with these- this great shop, which, actually, I believe was the pitch. How did you come up with the idea for the episode?

Albert: Well as you know, I'm quite the fashion icon in the office, so it was quite natural for me.

[Laughter]

John: Yes.

Albert: No, I knew that I wanted to set an episode in the fashion world because it seemed like a fun environment to get into, and lots of great visuals and scenes with models and fashion designers and runway shows. So I knew the area was there, and then so the trick was coming up with a sympathetic victim, and then, as always, a credible villain and threat. So I did a little research and finding the victim wasn't too tough, because the real- in the real world, the fashion industry has sort of been dogged by allegations of sweatshop abuse for a while, so having the sweatshop victim came fairly easy. Finding the threat required a little more research, but as I dug into it, I found that it was actually a real world connection between sweatshops and global clothing counterfeiting, which is controlled by the Chinese Triads.

John: It's interesting because a lot of people talk about intellectual rights and stuff in new international treaties and people immediately think of movies, television, digital rights. A lot of it also involved intellectual rights on clothing.

Albert: Yes. Clothing counterfeiting actually counts for more of the income of these Triads than illegal narcotics trade. So it’s a huge billion dollar business for them and right then, sort of, the pieces fell into place for the elements of the episode.

John: And now these actresses are, Marc?

Marc: That is- um-

Albert: Jen.

Marc: Cathy Vu.

Albert: Cathy Vu and Jen Hong.

Marc: On our left and Jen Hong, and they were great though local Portland actresses. And they knew how to speak some Mandariarin and it worked out great. This was actually, in the shooting order, Jeri Ryan's first episode working with us.

John: Yeah, it's really interesting because, you know, the crew- the cast was genuinely kind of freaked out by Gina not being on set, and so a lot of the weird vibe you get on this episode is from ‘there's a new person’ and of course Jeri became great friends with everyone and really fit in, but it was a really interesting vibe the first couple days on set. It really felt like, yes, Jeri’s a new person here; we don't quite know how to handle it.

Marc: But we had to play it like she was already part of the team because we shot these out of order.

John: It does help that really you don't make her part of the team until the end of the previous episode. 

Marc: Right.

John: This is almost a cold relaunch.

Albert: And we played that in the episode, too, so you sort of everyone's tentativeness around her worked well for the dynamics within- the character dynamics within the story as well.

John: And this is, again, this wass also a scene we added just to- It was interesting, we really wanted to make sure that everyone understood that Sophie- Because originally there was going to be a giant gap between episodes, we wanted to make sure everyone understood Sophie signs off on this. You know, audiences were very attached to Gina Bellman - rightfully so - and we did not want them to think we were shuffling her off and bringing in a new actor. We listen to you. Not a lot, not really.

[Laughter]

John: But we do listen to the bigger screams. Also love the callback there that Hardison screwed up in the Ice Man and that's what motivated this entire- this entire replacement.

Marc: We always like to bring up Hardison's screw ups; blowing up offices and whatnot.

John: Blowing up offices. But it's interesting that this is one of those trios where you just kind of park the camera and, you know, they have the dialogue, just let them run; let them do 4 or 5 versions, get the hell out of their way.

Albert: And this scene is really our version of: the kids are wondering where mommy went. You know, so it's like they are a little uncomfortable, it's a new family dynamic, so they're on the phone with her.

John: Yeah.

Marc: Right. But of course, they don't want dad to know that they are speaking to mom.

Albert: Yeah.

John: Yeah, and that's a- that actually started in Ice Man, where they are calling and not telling Nate. And we continued it all the way through where they just don't feel comfortable letting Nate know. And that was a nice little moment with Beth, you know, just ‘I miss you’. It's not often we crack the shell on Parker, that's part of the advancement of the character, to show that she's comfortable in the family, even if she’s not comfortable with other humans. And these two actors the- not those actors, that's stock photography- but the two actors playing the bad guys are?

Marc: Grace and what's her last name?

Albert: Grace Hsu and Tom Choi.

Marc: Grace was a Portland local, she was fabulous; and Tom came from Los Angeles. They did a really great job. 

John: The con here is kind of convoluted. It's interesting, just watching this, is the idea that we really had to come into the fashion show from- the fashion industry is one of those industries where if you're inside it, you know everything. We had to constantly figure out, what does the audience need to know in order to understand what we're doing without overexplaining it?

Albert: Right. Again, this is a case where research helped. I mean, to actually looking into what happens during fashions shows. It's based on a real life event, Fashion Week, which normally takes place in New York though there are regional ones all around the country where there are big showcases for new designers as well as opportunities for the stylish designers to bring out their new lines and things like that. So we knew we had an event that was tied to a specific time which helped; it gave us a very limited time frame. And then, again, researching into how the Triads operate and what their connection is to the clothing industry. All of that just helped flesh out the con.

John: I love the Parker giving her instructions on how to be photographed, you know Sophie gave her instructions three weeks ago for some other con. And this was kind of fun, creating the idea for how do you create- in modern media, how do you create the illusion of an actual human existing for some period of time, object permanence to a great degree?

Albert: Right.

John: So you figured out how to- you know, my wife watches a lot of fashion TV and it was kind of backing up: how do I actually know who the hell any of these people are? And it was because of the fashion shows and magazines. Cover both of those and you're done. And DVRs have certainly been a boon. And also this, printing off one magazine it's actually easier than we made it look. 

Albert: Yeah.

Marc: Oh yeah.

John: There's actually a service that prints off short runs of magazines that you can use if you're say doing a trade show or running a con.

Albert: This was all done on location. Beautiful house. This beautiful house in- was it in Clackamas?

Marc: Yeah, just outside of Clackamas.

Albert: It was great. It was a huge mansion that worked perfectly, and we ended up recreating the mansion later when we blow it up.

John: Also that what they're doing there, where they are looping, that's exactly what it looks like at Electric Entertainment - it’s basically just a laptop and a mic in the kitchen and that's how we finish up these episodes. No, but it was fun to be able to say, ‘Oh well, put the words on her mouth when we’re on her back, just like we do with actors.’ 

Marc: Right.

John: Presently, Tim Hutton delivers no more than 50% of the dialogue you hear per episode. We put the rest in his mouth later with a cunning Tim Hutton imitator. Yeah, this is to close off the sale that she's locked in.

Marc: Yeah, just to continue the sale.

John: Now Marc, you directed a bunch of episodes by this point, coming into this, right?

Marc: Yes.

John: And what was it like having a new human on the staff?

Marc: It was interesting. We- it brought a new life to it, and was interesting to see how everybody worked together. And she was just trying to get a feel for everybody and, you know, she was really easy going and said, ‘Listen, if you want a different performance, please, I'm here to help you guys.’

John: ‘Who likes to do this style? Who likes to do that style? Is that head writer really drinking that much in the middle of the day?’ Basic questions.

Marc: What is that smell coming from his trailer?

John: It's shame. It's the smell of shame. This scene was actually not in the original shoot, right? We wound up- this is one of the scenes that was: how much do we explain to the audience? Do they explain what Fashion Week is or isn't? And when we kinda looked at the first cut, it was like, you know what? I know because I watch it on Saturday morning on fashion TV, but we gotta make sure we establish the rules.

Albert: Right. Just a little more explanation as to how the fashion world works and where the con is going; just another step in the process.

John: And an excuse to get Aldis in orange.

Marc: Exactly and have Aldis in orange and Eliot in mascara.

John: That's eye makeup, that's not mascara.

Marc: Sorry.

John: Don’t. Please. Please, I don't want that phone call again, don't make that mistake.

[Laughter]

Albert: What's great about that factory, even this part of this set was also in that factory. 

Marc: This was just another portion of it.

John: Wait, so all the dresses and stuff, did we bring those in or those were-?

Marc: Yeah, we just put up the bolts of fabric and some employees.

Albert: We spent a lot of time in that sweatshop.

John: Yeah. As one does.

Marc: As one does. 

John: I love, by the way, in this episode, just watching what Kane is doing behind her during this scene. I'm- he's making a lot of interesting choices for Eliot there. Especially with the card snap coming up. And this was a lot of fun, too; this was a lot of the fun of the show is learning all the rules and idiosyncrasies of each industry.

Albert: Sure, that's part of the formula is figuring out what's the interesting world you can look into and then diving into and explaining to the audience how these worlds work.

Marc: Well it's funny, cause she needs to explain it to her teammates on the show.

John: And the card! I love the card delivery.

Marc: And the card the bam, yeah, you get to explain it to the teammates and explain it to the audience as well.

John: We’re really replicating what we’re doing in the room. Which is, one person knows the field pretty well and they explain- I remember when we did Iceman and we were talking about getting the serial numbers off the diamonds and Chris Downey was like, ‘I'm not following’ and I went, ‘It's like getting VIN numbers off a car’. ‘Oh, ok perfect!’ And that wound up in the script. Also this was fun having somebody who didn't know how the earbuds worked; it kinda reset the rules for the audience. And some beautiful- how did we get all this beautiful Boston stock footage?

Marc: Some we bought, some we shot. 

John: You actually went out and shot a lot.

Marc: I did. Myself and Dave Connell spent a couple days running around the great city of Boston.

John: Now this is your directing debut, isn’t it Albert?

Albert: It wasn’t my debut, but it was probably the longest sequence I've done.

John: And it's just naked backs.

Albert: It was just tedious, grueling labor to just have to order these models around to take off their clothes and take off their shoes. No, it was great, it was. We already had the set, we finished the big scenes in the set, so Marc let me take a few people out and just get as much fun behind the scenes stuff you can, so that’s kind of where we ended up.

Marc: You and Norbert, right?

Albert: Yeah, Norbert. That was one of his first days there.

John: I love the hair. Whose idea was the Swiss Miss hair?

Albert: Well the other thing about this episode was hair, makeup, wardrobe, obviously had a field day with it. They were really excited about being able to put their best foot forward on a lot of this stuff, so they were able to-

Marc: Yeah, they really had a good time.

John: I also love the fact that Hardison is basically using CIA technique of human intel signals  and analysis on the PA’s on a fashion show to figure out who’s in charge without actually figuring it out. It's a lot of fun, and our friend Apollo Robbins helped us out with the envelope slip, and it helps that Beth is very good-

Marc: This girl is great; she was a lot of fun, this girl, Caitlyn, Caitlyn Larimore. We- she read for us a few times on other things; we just knew there was gonna be something for her eventually.

John: So really, if you're looking to act, you should get out of whatever little LA or New York, whatever little hick town you're in and move to Portland because that's where you're gonna get some work.

Marc: Move to Portland; that's where it's gonna happen.

John: This actually hacking into the printer is something we've done before. A favorite trick of Apollo is to print stuff out in your office when you don't realize something is about to happen. And then the slide- 

Marc: That wonderful calligraphy on those envelopes was my mother in-law’s.

John: Really? That's great.

Marc: Yes, Louise.

John: We didn’t pay her did we?

Marc: Oh god no.

John: Alright, just making sure. We are a cable show.

Albert: But she ends up featured as a featured extra in the episode, too. She's in the fashion show; you'll see her later staring down Parker.

John: Mother-in-law? You got your mother-in-law on tv?

Marc: That's right.

John: Wow, you're the best son-in-law ever. This actress- actually nice shot. We wound up repeating that character later. I remember we were kinda restructuring; we were like, ‘Oh, we can just use her again, that’s fine.’

Albert: I remember watching her read, and she was great at it, so we decided to, rather than use a separate character for a scene later on, just, you know, bring her back. And she wound up doing that scene later when they approach the security people.

John: Just some love for the extra, ‘Hey, how are you doing?’ A little something from Eliot just for you.

Marc: Just a little.

Albert: Well he had to know that if you're gonna do a fashion episode, one with lots of models, that Eliot was gonna be right in the thick of things there.

John: Yeah. And the overheard- How did you stage this? The overheard conversation is a staple of the show and the bane of all directors everywhere.

Marc: Yeah, we didn't have a lot of time on this day, but we figured out a way; just keep her in the background, eventually a couple close ups of her ears perk, and soon they'll drag her in deeper. 

John: Now each one of them is doing a specific person. I can't remember, he's doing-

Marc: Lagerfeld.

John: He's doing Lagerfeld. She’s doing Donatella Versace. I can't remember the British guy that Hardison is locked in on, cause I remember Aldis actually had pictures of him. I’m trying to remember...

Albert: André Leon Talley from Vogue, who is the legendary creative director of Vogue. And he's sort of channeling him. But yeah, again, during the course of research-

Marc: I got my ladder shot in there, by the way. I'm just two for two on-

John: On having ladders in your-

Marc: Yeah.

John: That's good; that's excellent.

Albert: This whole set was built; this was the whole fashion show.

John: We actually built this in the museum that we shot the finale for 207 in, right?

Marc: No, this was just an empty warehouse. 

John: Did we have permission?

Marc: Yes we did.

John: Good. Cause sometimes we don't; sometimes we just build stuff and then get the hell out before the cops show.

Marc: Yes, we used a lot of fabric to hide things.

Albert: But the beauty of it is, if you go to real fashion shows, it's kind of what it is. The highlight of fashions shows are supposed to be the clothes, so they keep the surroundings very minimal, and that's- that's always the idea of a fashion show. So luckily for us, it's fairly easy to recreate realistically as a set.

Marc: A lot of times it's just a wedding tent and a runway and chairs.

Albert: Well anyone who's watched Project Runway can see what it's like. It’s just a runway and some folding chairs.

John: I thought we built- that's interesting. Where did we go back to the museum for? I can't remember; it's gonna drive me crazy. Whose idea was the buckles?

Albert: Buckles was something I came up with in the script when I was trying to figure out how to explain what a poor designer Gloria is.

John: What's the one thing nobody likes a lot of?

Marc: Buckles.

Albert: So it became a little joke that someone that- someone, I think it was Chris actually pitched the joke about ‘pilgrim chic’ which we put in there, and found out later that that's actually kind of a real thing. If you make up any kind of joke in the fashion world you'll find out eventually that it's a real thing somewhere.

John: Yes.

Marc: This was actually the workers rec room, which was pretty much an open area room and- 

John: You're kind of ruining the whole sweatshop vibe with, like, ‘They had a rec room.’

Marc: Yeah, they had a rec room and basically we've pretty much four walled it. 

John: Yup.

Marc: And, you know, put in-

John: Which means?

Marc: To put up a wall to close it off. 

John: So this is a bigger space behind him.

Marc: Yeah, it's actually pretty much the same size, but it's just a platform where they had their lunch table set up. But we liked the ability to have shots like that where we can look down onto the floor, it was always-

John: And then shoot back up.

Marc: It was always something that I know that you guys mention, that we wanna have more connection with our victims. So we placed that shot-

John: It is tricky, particularly when we’re doing complicated ones, you can lose track of that vic that's in the opening, and we really tried this year to tie it back a little bit more.

Albert: Yeah, it was interesting. I had a conversation with another writer just the other day about - who works on a crime procedural - and they have the same issue about how to connect with their victims. It's much harder for them because usually their victims are dead. So they show up in the beginning dead, and they can wrap things up with the relative of the victim at the end. If you notice, what a lot of crime shows do is they have flashbacks, so then you get to learn the personality of the victims through the flashbacks.

John: Oh, interesting.

Albert: So we don't do that, but our victims are alive so there are opportunities, like in this scene, to reconnect with the people who we’re working for and establish what our emotional stakes are.

John: And this is also one of the places where we sort of set up- and if you watch what we did with Jeri’s character, and sort of the difference between Sophie and Tara Cole. Tara Cole is a short grifter. Sophie is never gonna push it, she's never gonna try to get the big payout. And Tara’s job is to get in and get out with as much money as possible, so this is one of the times where we really sort of set up how she needs to adjust. Though when you look at the back half, we don't really change it that much. The team doesn't really change, it's- she kind of adjusts herself to fit in the team a bit more. They wind up using her short term push just as a different sort of batter.

Albert: Whereas personality-wise, there's something you told me I remember which helped make everything click which was - Tara is really kind of a guy’s girl. You know, she's the kind of girl who sits around and watches football with the guys on Sundays. Sophie is very much a girl's girl; she's out there doing the shopping and fashion and all that stuff. So that kind of distinguishes the two characters. Although they fulfill the same role within the team, they're very distinctive in terms of their personality. 

John: But that's also from when we originally created the show. A lot of these characters have slightly different personalities, and the actors brought other personalities, and we realized as long as that job was fulfilled in the team, you can range pretty widely within there. How did you shoot- where the hell is she?

Albert: She's supposed to be-

Marc: Tashkent, right?

Albert: Tashkent. So- 

John: Uzbekistan?

Albert: Yes.

John: Oh right there you go. Of course. ‘Cause Tashkent is in Uzbekistan. Who doesn't know that?

Albert: Right.

Marc: And yes, so we shot Gina on a much later date, during a later episode, and just one green screen and some stock footage behind a little wind machine and there you are.

Albert: And camels.

Marc: And some camels, yes.

John: As one has in Tashkent. 

Marc: In Portland.

John: Oh no, we went to the Portland zoo see, I was hoping you'd give them the whole speech about sand, and yeah. That's a little bit of jealousy, a little bit of- and that was another thing, too, to make sure that Sophie wasn't just a character that you checked in with once a week. She had to have her own little arc that whenever you went to her she had a distinct attitude about the team. Yes and the reindeer gag, which I really foolishly insisted on keeping in the script because it was my favorite bit.

Albert: It was brilliant; it was great; it was all John.

John: That's mine. Whenever you see a joke that doesn't quite work and seems kind of doomed but we keep, that's usually me diggin in at the table, particularly if it's absurdist. Now did we put banners up or is that digital?

Marc: Digital. Those were digital banners on the building. Do our little whip pans to Eliot and whip back. 

John: Just to establish, yes, he's with a model. Where do you think he was gonna be? And he’s out.

Marc: And he's angry he has to leave the model.

John: The- and again, it was interesting to, sort of, know that we had to plot out these arcs on the back six, and figuring out exactly, like, how do we show trust and acceptance? And, you know, you can do it in dialogue, but you don't want people talking about their intentions. And the ear bud became kind of an interesting metaphor; it goes in and out of use over the back six and even with Eliot we wound up using it.

Marc: Yeah, it's like the chief asking for your gun and badge.

John: Yeah, exactly. And it also solved the problem later when you know it’s- she shouldn't have heard X. 

Albert: Right.

John: And that's a big problem on the show is in theory, if they can all hear each other’s conversations... Whereas a lot of cop shows, a big chunk of the time is, ‘What did you find out from witness x, Billy?’ What did you find out about witness y? Alright now let's put it together.’ They know. Now how did we do this blow?

Marc: Now that wass digital smoke, and that is a model.

Albert: Green screen model.

Marc: Yeah, we modeled the windows and actually shot it in our parking lot right here in Highland, in Santa Monica Boulevard.

John: Now we built- we do builds on the- building’s blowing up is better with models. The cars we've found we can do just digitally, but the buildings really look great with the model.

Marc: But we still use the model for the car as well. We just don't have the time or the money to do full explosions, you know, we do just a little aftermath with some debris and smoke.

Albert: Especially when it's someone's real house.

Marc: Yes.

Albert: Don't want to-

John: Generally they kind of frown on that, of just blow out the windows.

Albert: Because last year we did, Marc and I worked on another episode where we blow up a warehouse. And it was an abandoned warehouse, so you blow out the windows and break the glass, so it's not such a big deal.

Marc: Yeah, we did a little damage to the Prison Break set on that. What they shot was-

John: I remember, because I pulled up the day you were shooting that, I was like ‘I hope I haven't missed the blow.’ I was a quarter mile away and my windshield shook and I'm like OK, that was a little bigger than we anticipated’.

Albert: But this was a house with six kids was it?

Marc: Six kids, yeah.

Albert: So it was-

John: So blowing it up wouldn't have changed it all that much.

Albert: Probably not. Actually that family was incredibly neat.

John: And this is a lot of fun. And again, this is where, if you pay attention, we never tell you Tara’s backstory; if you pay attention all six episodes, you can figure out exactly what Tara used to do before she became a con woman. The information she knows, the way she puts stuff together, you’ll figure it out. Also the yelling. This was a lot of fun, because Eliot would be annoyed in this situation, and Chris Kane is never funnier than when Eliot is incredibly annoyed.

Marc: That’s right, and it's usually with Hardison.

John: Yeah. Thank you, I don't know how you make this show without phone cameras I really- we couldn't have made this show in 1978 this would've been a lot harder.

Albert: Or earbuds.

John: Or earbuds. Well earbuds we could've got around, but- no earbuds might have made our life easier, actually.

Albert: This was another thing that came up in research, actually, when I wrote a book about the Chinese Triads, and it is actually true that they're signature weapon is a meat cleaver. We looked at a few pictures of them, they're pretty impressive; they are really big and they have engravings on them, stuff like that. I've also looked at way too many pictures of victims of the Triads.

Marc: Yeah, missing fingers, and hands, and arms.

Albert: But that, again, it just added another fun element, knowing that there was, in reality there was a signature weapon that they use, and gave Eliot another fight scene.

John: Of course they'd be fancy meat cleavers, you're not gonna just pick a meat cleaver at Tesco or the kitchen section of Best Buy; you're gonna get one specially made. This was a lot of fun, too, something we haven't done in a while, which was watching Eliot figure out his fight space. You know, control access doing the math in this head. You know, it's always a little easier if no ones around him, just so he can tear people around a little easier. Fun stunt. Jerri did this, right?

Marc: Yeah, she was really nervous about doing her first fight with us, but she was a trooper; she did a great job.

John: She actually killed that guy. I feel a little bad about that, that's the first time we've admitted that, but you know. This was one of my favorite fights, cause we don't do a lot of weapon fights.

Marc: Yeah.

John: And it really reads well; the cleavers read real. Also we do a nice fight style with Chris here.

Albert: We did use cleavers back in the first season with the Wedding Job.

John: Oh that's right, we had the kitchen thing.

Albert: A kitchen thing. But it was a different kind of fight; it was a one on one in an enclosed space. This was an open space with multiple attackers ,and again, different props to use. So like, you saw the mannequin dummy there, and the rolling carts, and things like that, and so it ended up being a really fun scene.

John: And again, thank god for the surveillance culture - the fact that there are so many traffic cameras. Although you may bitch about privacy, it really helps us.

Marc: It really, really helps us.

John: This was interesting. This- I forget how this came up, I think the fact he had two IDs, but they had only checked one. I had a friend who was a Mountie- and remember, we were talking about my buddy who had done undercover up in Canada, and gh said the problem was, the guys got the fake, ran up records on fake Canadian IDs and you never knew the original crimes. Yeah. ‘Hey, how does Tara Cole know how to handle a meat cleaver?’ You’ll find-

Marc: Yup.

John: There you go, and that's a nice hit. And the head butt. I love the head butt, I'm sorry, man, that's a great way to end a fight.

Marc: She gets to take part.

John: Also, there's a lot of really nice hair flipping around in that fight scene, I gotta say.

Marc: I love-

John: I don't know whose looks better.

Marc: It's like a [Unintelligible. Sounds like ‘Germat’?] commercial.

[Laughter]

John: And that's, again, one of the problems with having a really uber competent team is, ‘OK they would have run this guy's background. What is the one loophole we could find that Hardison could screw up?’ You know, it's not screw up, it's nobody’s perfect.

Albert: It's just overlooked.

John: That's the trick, it has to always be some sort of fair play thing. Not a mistake, not just a ‘I didn't look in that drawer.’ This is a legitimate loophole.

Albert: Look how great this location is, though. It's everywhere; there's stuff everywhere. We really would not have been able to duplicate this on a set. 

Marc: No.

John: What? No?

Marc: Never. 

John: I love that he keeps the voice up here. That killed me here the first time I saw the dalies I was like, ‘Is he still doing Lagerfeld’?

Marc: Jack Bouvier. 

John: Yeah the fingerless gloves are really the pièce de résistance there. There's a lot of stuff there that could be on anybody, but the fingerless gloves really digs in.

Albert: Again, that's straight out of the Lagerfeld book.

Marc: Tim went for it.

John: Are those glasses actually rose tinted?

Albert: Yes.

John: Yes they are, that's magnificent. And the evil speech of evil: ‘Listen, I'm just a businessman. I have obligations.’ You know, in his head he's keeping many people employed back in China. You know, and he's a copy fighter, he's like those electronic freedom foundation guys who doesn't believe in copyright.

Albert: He's a hero, really.

John: He is a hero.

Albert: Of his own story, but- 

John: Exactly, he just happens to interact with our story. 

Albert: Exactly.

John: And this is actually a cue, this is a hint to where Nate’s- This winds up being the first episode of the second half of the season. This is kind of a hint of where Nate’s arc is going for the season, where he's getting so addicted to control and not losing and beating the bad guy, he's starting to make poor decisions. And he makes a series of remarkably poor decisions through the back six that really just the competence of the team protects him from.

Albert: He's kind of like those football teams that keep pulling it out in the 4th quarter and just decide that's just what they have to do. So they don’t mind coasting through the rest of the game or even, you know, getting down and behind before then.

John: Yeah it's- it's the mental discipline, and something that Parker says later on in the season which is, ‘Be the Nate Ford that we came back for.’ The mental discipline that made him legendary and which they count on is starting to slip. And it's not because of the booze, it's because of what he's substituting the booze with.

Marc: Right.

John: This is me drinking my Guinness, by the way.

[Laughter]

Albert: It's not your Guinness, it's what you’re substituting for the Guinness.

John: No, no, this is my Guinness; I'm actually drinking.

Albert: Oh ok. It's actually another Guiness that is substituting for his Guinness.

[Laughter]

John: It's, again, a Guinness that's somewhere else that I would like to be drinking. Some bargaining, trying to get them to take Eliot instead of Jeri.

Marc: That wasn't something he planned for. 

John: No, no, and it's interesting, and again, this is all trust issues. She kind of volunteered herself for this position, she’s, you know- 

Albert: The trick is, part of the whole episode was really the character dynamics. Because it was a new character, because it was a new team member, even though she'd been introduced in the episode beforehand, this is really the first full con they run together as a team. So it was a very tricky thing, and so I had the outlines of what the broad strokes would be, but this is the point when you go to the show runner and you say, ‘John how does this work, exactly?’ And then John takes over.

John: We stare at the ceiling and- that's what the writers room is for. And this is great, we actually wound up paralleling this shot. You created this shot for this episode, Marc; we wound up paralleling this argument in, like, two other episodes. There's actually a similar version of this shot in the first half in the season finale, where it's like, we are now sitting judgment of Nate Ford, and we’re a little distrubed that we’re not feeling very comfortable here. Yeah, and this cutting pattern replicates, and it’s interesting, and it's because we have editors working over certain episodes that make certain choices. And those are I think the names of-

Albert: They were real Electric Entertainment employees.

John: ‘Maybe I want to meet...’ Yes. Hardison is the most hard done by character; he never gets what he wants. And that, again, is one of those things where this episode was shot in 6 ½ days.

Marc: Yes, there's my mother-in-law.

John: There you go; she's a lovely woman.

Marc: A lovely woman.

John: Are you checking the list of actors to pick her name up? That's not good.

Marc: No, gosh no.

John: You know, we had four different ways this scam works. All depending on exactly how this shooting schedule worked out. And I remember I had to sit down with my wife and I was like, ‘Alright’, cause she's big into this, I was like, ‘Exactly what is the timing and choreography on a fashion show?’ And there, the thing with the dresses and they're all transported across town. So it was a good lesson for writers is, the great thing about TV is you're shooting every week; the really great thing about TV that will also drive you crazy is, you learn how to have a bunch of choices. Because sometimes the world decides not cooperate with you, and you can't shut down production for two days and just go- You've worked on big films, you've seen this. Like, ‘You know what? We're just gonna take a day off and find the right location.’

Marc: Yes.

John: No. Not so much.

Albert: The scene coming up with Parker in the gown. This is really, if you think about it and you say that you're gonna do an episode with the Leverage team involved in the fashion world, kind of the promise of the premise is you're gonna get Parker in a fashion show. In a gown, in a fashion show.

John: Right, because she's the one person who would despise it.

Albert: Right, and you kind of have to deliver this scene.

John: This was also shot later, and it was interesting because we don't usually get Parker and Eliot- you know, Parker and Eliot in a two-hander. And if you go back, you can see in the back half of the season when we- especially when we saw how it worked out in The Lost Heir Job, it became kind of a little more standard that we go to this partnership. You also see it pop up in the bottle show, the bar show, what the hell did we call it?

Marc: Bottle Job.

John: We called it The Bottle Job, that's right.

Marc: The problem with doing these two-handers is he can get her to laugh and break.

John: Yeah, Chris can crack Beth up. Him doing the dirty dresses on the floor line, Beth I think broke character maybe ten times because we are in the basement shooting that day. 

Marc: And this is the dress that Nadine our costume designer built.

Albert: Yeah.

John: It's a pretty amazing dress.

Marc: A beautiful dress.

John: The thumb drive of intent. Thank you thumb drive, for giving us a short hand so audiences know what we're doing. 

Marc: Yes, so she basically- you'll see that all of the Andre V, that's the Andre V character, has a touch of yellow in it.

John: That's right. Nadine created a unified theme for the fashion line - the fake fashion line that we were doing. 

Albert: She created an actual line.

Marc: Yeah, so she created a whole line and there's a touch of yellow in everything and as you’ll see when we get to the runway-

John: Where's this dress? We should auction this dress off.

Albert: Nadine probably has it.

Marc: It's actually in my car.

John: Oh no. I wish I didn't know that.

Marc: And then Dave Connell carried it with the lighting design as well.

John: Oh that's great, that is great. It's like we do this for a living.

Marc: Almost.

John: I love that Parker does the most- the little slide across the spot; that's a lot of fun. And now, did you shoot this at night? You had how many days on this set?

Marc: I think we did this-

John: You had the day, which was the warm up and then-

Marc: I think we had this location for two days.

John: That's not bad.

Marc: That's Jeffery Gilbert who played Andre V; he was just great. And I love Parker with the moves.

John: With the big head turn.

Marc: Just for a moment she thinks she got it under control, of course.

John: No, not so much. Walking is hard; walking in those heels is hard.

Albert: Walking in heels is hard.

John: I also love the little improv- it wasn’t in the script, but I remember seeing it in the dalies - she cracks her neck.

Marc: Yes that was definite Parker move. And I know this had to be- the scene coming up had to be a John Rogers line, where it's written that Andre V is banging his head repeatedly against the wall.

[Laughter]

John: Well, yeah, because I do that in the writers room.

Marc: And they said, ‘We gotta move on.’ I said, ‘No, I need to get the guy banging his head.’

John: Trust me, have some sympathy. And this is where we pay off the idea that Tara has heard about this team, and now believes she's given Nate one clue as to what she’s gonna do and she's desperately hoping they're as good as they think they are, and she’s doing the set up to this, she's setting up this beat. It was tricky, because we did actually play- she does actually look like she's selling the team out here, and if you're watching the DVD, you are watching all the way through the seasons. aAnd we did go back and forth on how loyal would she be to the team. And it really is the fact that one of the reasons you watch the show, or at least I think one of the reasons you watch the show, is the family vibe.

Albert: Absolutely.

John: And just having somebody who wasn’t into the family vibe in the middle of it, it might've been interesting from a writing standpoint, and we’re all fans of the show who write the show, it wasn’t interesting from an audience standpoint; it felt a little overly clever, a little constructed. But we do it just enough that we can get she's part of the team, but she doesn't buy into Nate’s bullshit, and as a result her actions in the finale make some sort of organic sense. And the van, oh, the van.

Marc: Gotta have the van.

John: Not anymore.

[Laughter]

Marc: Well-

John: No the- and this, again, we had like four variations how this particular con worked. Who did those designs? Who did-? We have a lot of actual fashion designs floating around in this.

Marc: I think Nadine.

Albert: Nadine and her team did pretty much everything.

John: They sketched them up and sent them off to Derek to do the computer graphics.

Albert: They did the sketches, they did the buckles sketches, they designed the clothes. Like I said, this was a real- this was a field day for the wardrobe and makeup and hair.

Marc: For the glam department.

John: That was nice, too. Cause the thing we originally missed, that having him hand him the badge, it’s a nice touch. Again, the trick when you’re doing- Some of the endings we stop and explain a lot, some just kind of unroll, and you have to make sure you set up all the pieces. And a lot of times when you're running and gunning and shooting, that stuff goes away.

Marc: It does. And so much of it is like, you get to a certain scene like, oh my god, in the flashback you're supposed to see that happens later.

John: Do you break those off separately when you shoot these or-? I mean, I know you, kind of, barely read the script.

Marc: A lot of times they are within the scenes and god bless Suzanne, our script supervisor, she just, she-

John: She's the best. She's actually the best I've  ever worked with.

Marc: She's the gatekeeper, yeah, she’s amazing. 

John: A Script Supervisor’s job, in case you don't know, if you're watching, is to sit next to the Director with a copy of the script, with special notations that they go to school to learn, to track what is in every shot, what the angles are, what the sizes are, who’s crossing, who’s walking in from what direction.

Marc: She's basically- she's keeping score and she’s the directors best friend, or worst enemy.

John: You will hear a lot of directors, even really experienced directors say-

Marc: As well as an editor, because, you know, an editor just gets a hard drive of footage, and if he can't decipher her notes, then he's gonna struggle as well.

John: I've seen really experienced directors, guys who are famous, they will finish and will turn to their script supervisor and go ‘What do I need?’ Cause they're watching the coverage while the directors watching the-

Marc: And we do a lot of different things and as a director, you're watching performances, and you're making sure you're hitting all the right emotional beats, and you know, when we do certain scenes where we have multiple characters, or you’re doing a 360-

John: We have a five-hander here.

Marc: Yeah, or doing a 360 and the camera’s going around and around, you need someone to be keeping score for you.

John: I like the physicality, by the way, watching this again, of watching Tim does with his face when he’s with the character and when he's just dropped it, and all of a sudden that kind of fake character, the wardrobe doesn't matter if he's just pissed, and you know he's dug in.

Marc: As soon as he's pulled off the glasses-

John: It's Nate.

Marc: It's Nate. 

John: Great job.

Marc: And we haven't even had him say that, when Tom, later on, you know, points that out, you're not even who you say you are, he, like, looks at him in a certain way.

John: Yeah. No, nice call. The- oh yes, this was, again, interesting, is one of the things that really depends on the speed with which these guys can rip this stuff off. You know, in one of the original versions we were talking about where the dresses are actually transported- right after the fashion show, the dresses actually are driven across town and are put in a private closed viewing for the buyers. They won’t let anybody else close to those dresses because even with photographs, they can be knocked off within a matter of 48-72 hours. Which is stunning, which is what you're trying to fight when you're trying to fight piracy. And hung by his own sin, which is one of the rules.

Albert: There's always a rule. Yup. Going back to the wardrobe and hair and makeup departments, the other thing you don't end up seeing is that they went through a lot of their own iterations of what- before what you see on the screen. They did a lot of tests, they did a lot of different looks. If we had time, we could probably show all these other test photos they took, and different hair configurations, and make up, and at one point they did this whole sort of Kabuki look, but we decided that might've been a little too fashion forward for this show. They really went all out.

Marc: They went all out.

John: Did you say fashion forward?

Albert: Sure.

Marc: And some of them were just based on the element of time, you know, we wouldn't have time to change actors over to a certain style, and-

John: Yeah, cause I mean, that's the thing, is when the difference between shooting Parker as Parker, and shooting Parker as Parker as fashion model, is two hours to change that character's look.

Albert: At least.

John: At least. And the walk of victory.

Marc: Dun dun dunnn.

John: This is nice, this is- I, you know, I always love the 60s, 70s call back; it's a nice style choice. Also, you've got that great street to shoot down. Where was that? Was that outside of-?

Marc: That was right outside of the actual warehouse location.

Albert: Across the river.

Marc: Just across the river from downtown Portland, so it was really close; you know, had a nice overpass.

John: Looked like that section of T that’s elevated.

Marc: This, again, is supposed to be in Asia, which was actually just another area of the warehouse again.

John: And then that's a kind of an iconic shot for this show now. That's nice, the Jeri Ryan era, as the fans call it. If you go on the boards and see the fans arguing over which six episodes are the best in the giant ouvre of Leverage ouvre. And she pays a horrible horrible price for her treachery.

Albert: Those are real working steam presses, and I can tell you from having been there, they were ridiculously hot. 

[Laughter]

Albert: I didn't want to be anywhere near it. I was like, ‘Wow, Gloria is really a trooper going through this.’ She had to learn how to operate it; it had, like, foot petals and things.

John: This is why it's good to be a writer, is, we write horrible things and then the directors and actors go live there, while we occasionally- Sometimes we venture from the hotel room to go visit the set.

Marc: At times.

John: But it's for the best if the writer isn't there; just causes trouble.

Albert: We can go pose and take pictures with the models; that's when we show up on set.

John: Yes. And then this is actually based on, there's a bunch of factories now that are owned by the employees that were taken over. Some car factories, some- there was a big thing in South America for a while of the workers seizing foreclosed factories and opening them up as co-ops.

Marc: I did not know that.

John: Yes, there you go. Anything we can do to undermine the infrastructure of capitalism of America in Leverage we try to, we try to.

Marc: Now this is a happier factory, it's brighter.

John: Brighter colors.

Marc: Yeah, it's brighter colors, there's sound.

[Laughter]

John: I love that. I love you sitting in the director’s chair like, ‘Alright, now make it the happy sweatshop.’

Marc: How else can we make them happy?

John: Lunch breaks.

Marc: Lunch breaks! Sandwiches. Sandwiches make everyone happy. Everybody’s happy with a sandwich.

John: There you go, and milk, that's delicious. Look, and we saw that particular extra was unhappy earlier.

Albert: That's right.

Marc: She was.

John: There you go; really sold it. And again, it's interesting because, you know, you shot two years of this now, and you understand the vics aren't a big part of actual screen time, they are on in the opening, they're on in the closing. Those actors are insanely important, because it means you have to like them really fast, and if you don't like them really fast, you know, it won’t pay off.

Marc: Yeah, and they have to keep up because, you know, it's not like we get a lot of time to do rehearsals, and so some of the crux of the episode can be in their hands.

Albert: Oh yeah, the emotional core of the story always hinges on the victims and their choices.

John: And sometimes those scenes with Tim Hutton in the bar, that's the entire reason you're gonna care about this episode. And this is a lot of fun with- this is when we- again, we really track, if you watch the back six episodes where Tara Cole feels in how she's getting the money. Happy about getting the money, ambivalent about getting the money, not caring so much, you know. She never doesn't care, cause that's just wrong. And now, it's interesting, Tim and I had a nice conversation about this particular phone call, cause he called me about this and he's like, ‘I'm not sure where we're going with this.’ I'm like, ‘You know that moment when you've had an argument with the wife and you've realized you've said the wrong thing and you can never take it back?’ And he's like, ‘Oh yeah.’ and I'm like, ‘That one right there.’ And it's one of my favorite little Nate/Sophie scenes and they're not even in the same room. Because it's, you know, it's- banter is fun, relationships are hard.

Marc: Right.

Albert: Oh I like that. Banter is fun, relationships are hard. 

John: And, you know, end of day, unless you show a couple of these scenes every now and then, you don't buy these relationships as real. And that's why I think one of the reasons the Eliot/Nate relationship feels very grounded is, we give opportunity for Chris Kane and Tim to kind of dig in on the fact that they don't always agree, those characters.

Albert: And you gotta give somewhere for the characters to go. That's the thing about a scene like this, at the end it gives them somewhere to go after here.

John: That was great. Thank you so much, guys, that was a lot of fun. The episode was fantastic.

Albert: That was The Runway Job.

Marc: Thank you.

John: Anything you wanna say to the nice folks before we move onto the next one?

Marc: Stay tuned.

[Laughter]

John: It's a DVD, I don't think they’re gonna wander off-

Marc: For the season.

John: Oh for another season, that's right. Season 3. Albert anything you wanna say?

Albert: No this was great, this was, I think, my third episode working with Marc. Third, that I'd written. Kind of fourth.

John: Kind of codependent.

Marc: Yes, yes.

Albert: We are, but I've learned that one thing: banter is fun, but relationships are hard, so we gotta keep working on it.

Marc: That’s right.

[lyricalvillain]

TFaWS Spoilers Below!

Okay. Okay. Can we frigging talk about Falcon and Winter Soldier stuff real quick? Cause like... I'm blown away by all the emotional stuff going on here. I am loving where this is going so far and the intense issues the characters are struggling with and how wonderful the Actors are doing right now.

Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie)

Anthony Mackie is a national treasure. I love his portrayal of Sam Wilson. He does an astounding job. He has such an expressive face and he uses it to break my heart.

His character is going through a lot right now. He just got back from being dead for five years. People mourned him, his family mourned him. He is trying to reintegrate himself into the world and his loved one's lives. Which is even harder when there's a five year gap of missing time to account for. Right away in Ep1 he's given shit from a banker about that five year gap in employment. (Which, excuse me sir who raised you???)

All while coming to terms with the fact that Steve is gone. Steve is gone and he dropped this monumental legacy onto Sam's shoulders.

And Sam felt he didn't fit that role, felt like he was standing in this massive shadow cast by what people expected from Steve (and now what they expect from Sam). His speech about needing new heros, and letting the shield rest because noone could live up to Steve-- wonderful. Beautifully delivered. Mackie is killing it portraying Sam. Just. A++

And the cinematography in that moment. The massive image of Steve looming over Sam. Really pushing how Sam feels in that moment.

He felt that the shield, the legacy, the title belonged to someone else. He had his own name, his own legacy that he was building. His own identity. I can see how he wouldn't want to give up being Falcon and pick up Steve's shield.

But that made the end of ep announcement of the new Captain America all the more heart wrenching, like seriously I wanted to cry. Because Sam trusted that the shield and uniform would be kept at the museum. Trusted that his decision and wishes would be respected. And oh god, how they rolled over that without a seconds hesitation.

The entirety of episode two was just triggering for both of our boys. Sam was constantly being reminded of how he gave up the shield. It’s the first thing Bucky says to him, and it’s the thing Bucky focuses on the most. Sam is probably already furious that this is happening and John Walker isn’t helping that either.

“It would be easier if I had Cap’s wingmen to back me up.”

Sam’s reaction to this was very telling. He was with the guy up until this point it seemed. As soon as he said this, Sam left. And I think it has a lot to do with him having his own autonomy as a hero, his own identity, his own legacy. He is very focused on who is behind the symbol, the person behind the symbol. (I also think Sam may have some Imposter syndrome going on, maybe?) He helped take down Thanos, take down Hydra. He’s put the work in, he's made a name for hinself. So when John says he's put the work in. I feel like that's just insult to injury right there for Sam.

While I doubt John meant any harm, he definitely stuck his foot in his mouth. It seemed like he thought of Bucky and Sam as accessories instead of their own individual people. Like they didn’t have issues and lives outside of being brushed off and put in play for whatever Cap needed them for. 

Sam was with Steve because they were friends, why would he ally himself with John Walker, a man who had taken up the mantle he had tried to lay to rest, a man he didn’t know at all? A man who didn’t know him at all.

And don’t get me started on the cops man, they called for BACKUP. They stopped because they judged someone based on the color of their skin, and the backup arrived as they figured out who they were harassing. Fucking systemic racism, man. (Good job portraying that as well though.)

Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan)

Bucky... God damn. What a mess. Tragic back story to the max, add in a dash of survivors guilt, self worth issues a mile wide. And lets not forget the trust issues. We have those too.

We all know his past, the brainwashed assassin with no real name. Treated like a weapon, stripped of humanity and autonomy.

He was a fugitive for probably about four years spent some more time on ice in Wakanda, and then vanished for five. He comes back to help kick Thanos' butt and then Steve... Just leaves him to live his life in the past. For Steve it's been a long time. Steve lived through those five years without Sam or Bucky. But for Bucky it was only yesterday that they had been fighting to stop Thanos. He hasn't been able to integrate properly into society. He only had Steve and by extension Sam.

So now he's left to integrate on his own. Steve was his anchor, and he's adrift in the future where he only consistently talks to his therapist and a man who's son he murdered.

He is not okay.

In episode one and two we see just how not okay he is. He's mired in his past, clinging to the vestiges of his combat experience and skill set he picked up as the winter soldier. Sam tells him he's not a spy anymore and Bucky fights to be able to help, to feel relevant again.

Hes so focused on Steve's shield. I like to think its partially because of what Steve's trust symbolized to him, and also because it's tied so closely with Steve's memory that seeing someone, that Steve didn't give it to, wield it bugs him. Steve's last wish was for Sam to pick up the title.

The revelation that he was trying so hard because Steve believed in him broke my heart. Especially once he started doubting that faith his friend had in him.

"What was rule two again, Doc?"

Nobody gets hurt. But I wonder if bucky was implying that he has been hurt. I mean probably, Sam said some hurtful things, they both did. And they're both snarky and defensive. Still Bucky will help Sam, because even though they argue and fight, they're friends, united in grief and trauma. I just have so many feelings about my boys guys.

John Walker (Wyatt Russell)

I’m not gonna lie I expected to hate John, in fact the ending of the first episode just begs you to hate him. I don’t love him. But surprisingly I also definitely don’t hate him. He is a giant dumbass though.

So firstly, this dude is from the comics, he’s eventually  known as U.S. Agent.

He operates within the confines of the law, and is basically the government’s lap dog at this point. Whereas Steve, as Captain America, had gone against orders multiple times, against the law even, to do what he thought was right. Despite the obvious differences in their character so far, there is a parallel we can draw between John and Steve and even John and Sam.

John feels that pressure that Sam felt in Episode one. It’s the first thing he really talks about. He doesn't want to let the people down.

He has been used as a marketing tool very much like Steve. Propaganda posters, the works. He tells his friend (high-school sweetheart?) that he wants to just “do the job” like Steve did. He’s frustrated about being paraded around, surrounded by dancing girls and stuffed in front of cameras.

As irritatingly confident as he seems, there is a lot of doubt and nerves in this guy. He is also… not enhanced. He’s just slightly above average for a human.

“I’m not trying to replace Steve, I’m not trying to be Steve. I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be.” This was honesty, there was frustration in the lines. He probably feels overwhelmed, he is reaching out for help from people who knew Cap best and are best equipped to help him take down the Flag Smashers.

Later when he shows up to bail Bucky out, he made a few more mistakes. Firstly, the therapy thing. Ordering his therapy to clear him so he wouldn’t be tied up was just short sighted and selfish. He may have thought he was doing Bucky a favor seeing as the therapy was court mandated, but Bucky NEEDS that therapy. His therapist was the only person he had regular contact with that wasn’t emotionally torturous for him.

Also calling Bucky an asset. DUDE. This man was referred to as “The Asset” for 70 YEARS. He was brainwashed and treated like a thing, didn’t have a name, wasn’t allowed to decide things for himself. So John swooping in and making the decision to “liberate him” from therapy because he was “a valuable asset”? John, buddy, pal. Maybe don’t. Maybe take you “I know what’s best” shtick somewhere else okay?

He knows who these men are, and he’s trying to be helpful and supportive to get them to like him, trust him and work with him. But that’s hard when you don’t KNOW these men and what they’re suffering through. John is just going to trample all over their emotional minefield.

That’s it from me, thanks for reading through my rambling thoughts on fictional characters guys! I'm going to go cry in a corner until next week.

[collecting-stories]

Heaven, We’re Already Here - t. 05 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Things are progressing between y/n and JJ. 

A/N: We’re halfway to the end...can you even believe it?

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ My soul isn’t yours to save anymore ✞

The bet had become a thing of contention between JJ and John B since the night of the kegger. It was fairly obvious that JJ wanted out and the only reason he was still hanging on was because he had convinced himself that he desperately needed the cash. 

But the more he spent time with you the harder it was becoming to justify to himself that cash was worth the level of humiliation he would be subjecting you to if you knew that this was all just one massive joke on you. From the moment he saw you in the church JJ knew that this was no game or bet, no matter what he tried to tell himself when you weren’t around. And after spending the day in Chapel Hill with you he was more convinced than ever that he needed to end things before they got out of hand.  

“Here.” JJ practically slammed the money on the table, pushing it across to Sarah.

“What’s this?”

“I forfeit.” He replied. “Take your 200 back.” 

“I thought you needed the money,” John B said, tone mocking the way JJ had grumbled about needing cash three weeks ago. 

“Yeah and now I don’t.” He snapped.  

Kiara looked away, grabbing the empty glasses off the table and taking them back to the counter. The only nice thing about him doing this in the Wreck was that she could walk away from the table when it got uncomfortable. Kiara hadn’t been shy in telling JJ that he should call off the bet, “if you really need 200, I’ll front you.” But she was less inclined to put herself in the middle of the altercation with him, John B, and Sarah. 

She knew that he regretted making the bet in the first place and she had felt guilty hanging out with you, knowing that it was all just a joke behind your back that JJ and his friends could laugh at. But he was making good on his promise to cut off the head of the beast, giving Sarah her money back and ending the bet before anyone really got hurt. It could fade into obscurity, just be something no one even remembered anymore. 

“You were almost to the finish line,” John B teased, feeling shockingly okay with a bet he’d first made when he was drunk and barely coherent enough to walk. “I mean, unless you don’t think she’ll let you get that far-”

“Shut up.” JJ snapped. “I said I was done, so I’m done.”

“Why?” Sarah pried.  

“I thought it would be funny but it’s not. She’s a real person, I’m not gonna fuck with her just so you guys can laugh.” JJ replied. He’d been feeling guilty about the bet since that first day he saw you in the church. The way you looked at him, a mirrored image of his own restlessness, depression, and emptiness. He didn’t deserve you on a good day, when he was completely devoted to you with no ulterior motive at the back of his head.  

He couldn’t do this to you, make you the butt of the joke to every pogue who heard about the bet and was enough of an asshole to find it funny. On his second time around the thought, he knew he really couldn’t do that to anyone. But John B thought it was funny and he and Sarah had used JJ’s lack of funds and general ‘go-with-the-flow’ attitude as a means to an end. 

“You’d do it if she was some kook.” Sarah commented, counting the 20’s he’d handed over. 

“Well she’s not.” JJ snapped, “look, I’m giving you the fucking money back, bet’s off.”

“Dude-“

“He said it was over John B, just quit being a dick.” Kiara piped up. She hadn’t been there when the bet was made but she had heard about it after the fact and been pissed. She was only relieved now that JJ seemed ready to put the bet to rest.  

“She might like you now but it won’t last.” Sarah said when JJ started to walk away, “I mean, you guys have nothing in common JJ, do you really think she fits in at keggers or sitting around getting high all day?”

JJ stood there, jaw tense, clenching his fists so hard that his nails dug into his palms, face turning red. The anger was just insecurity because, yeah, he agreed with Sarah. He knew he didn’t have a lot to offer you but hearing her say it knocked him down a peg and had him seeing red. 

“Just go,” Kiara urged, grabbing JJ’s arm and pushing at him, trying to get him to turn around and leave, “go.” She would yell at them for him, a much better defender of his character than he was. 

The door slammed behind him, the spring on the old wooden screen creaking in protest when JJ threw it shut as he left, already brushing tears out of his eyes as he walked, cutting through the woods back to the cut. It was stupid to get so upset about something Sarah said but he couldn’t help it. He’d been worked up as it was over calling off the bet and Sarah had only made him feel worse. 

Despite that, or maybe because of it, JJ took the path through the woods that led to the church. Taking a walk to cool down worked for everyone in the world but him, the further through the woods he walked the angrier he got. At himself, at Sarah and John B, at everything that made him take that stupid bet in the first place. The only thing keeping his anger in check was the thought of you. Sitting in the church practicing the piano or hanging laundry outside. Anywhere he could stay just out of sight of your parents, relishing in your attention.  

JJ came up on the church, not thinking to look inside before he entered. All he was thinking about was seeing you, forgetting entirely that you were not the only one who lived on the property. He stopped at the end of the aisle, still a little worked up, and caught off guard by the sight of your dad at the altar, rehearsing his sermon for Sunday. He tried to back up but failed, his clumsiness catching your dad’s attention.  

“Can I help you?” He called out when JJ bumped into one of the pews, the sound of his boot colliding with the wood reverberating in the nave. 

“Sorry,” JJ spoke up, “sorry I-“

“You came to church a few Sundays ago?” Your dad said, recognizing JJ’s face when he stepped off the altar and walked down the aisle. The blond, he realized, was the boy he’d noticed watching you. Though his wife told him he was being crazy, he was certain that he’d seen the boy in the yard once after that. 

“Ah, yeah...” JJ nodded, sniffling a little to clear the congestion from crying, “wrong turn on the way to the smoke shop I guess.” He was sure his face was still red, eyes still bloodshot, and the last thing he wanted to do was get cornered into some weird testimonial moment with your dad. He just wanted to see you, to remind himself that what Sarah said was bullshit, that you liked him, that this was more than a bet.  

“Is there something I can help you with now?” Everyone always said how welcoming and charismatic your dad was. The church wouldn’t have half the congregation it did now if it wasn’t for your dad’s ability to reel people in with smiles and an easy-going personality. 

That ease was not present as he stood there sizing up JJ. The kid gave him a bad feeling and he was absolutely certain he’d seen flashes of him around the yard before. The teenage population on the island was not a group your father was a fan of and JJ seemed the perfect embodiment of all the things wrong with that group. He looked unkempt, a little worse for the wear, and he smelled like pot. 

Before JJ could say anymore, the doors to the church opened and you walked in, eyes wide at finding your boyfriend there, “uh, mom said to call you for lunch?” You said. 

For his part, the second the door opened, JJ’s attention had snapped that way, and there you were. Exactly who he had been looking for and he felt like he could breath, like things would be alright because you were right there and he shouldn’t be so conspicuous but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Like a magnet.  

“Of course,” he seemed to recover his bad mood relatively quick though he glared at the back of JJ’s head when he realized the boy was staring at you. “Go ahead back to the house and tell your mom I’ll be in.” 

You kept your eyes on your dad, not daring to look at JJ, “should I ask her to set an extra space?” Your dad had always been a fan of inviting church members in for dinner or lunch when they stopped by with something, you weren’t sure if it was compensation for a dwindling household or if he just liked to seem approachable but you used it against him now. If you had looked at him, you’d have noticed the slow smirk on JJ’s face as he stood there. 

If your dad said no it reflected badly on him. He always guilted you about not being helpful enough or considerate enough. “If...” he trailed off, clearing his throat to get JJ’s attention as he waited for a name. 

“JJ...JJ Maybank.” 

The frown increased in size; he’d heard the last name before. He’d hired a Maybank to do work on the roofing a few years back and remembered the man being nothing but a mean drunk. “If JJ wants to stay, we would love to have him.”

“I’ve got no where to be,” JJ replied, grinning at your dad. 

Lunch had already been finished when you went to call your dad, needing only to be plated, something you were thankful for because the awkward and uncomfortable silence that settled between JJ and your dad was unbearable. There was no way you could’ve survived waiting through lunch prep with the two of them.  

You weren’t even entirely sure what JJ was doing there. He hadn’t mentioned seeing you, he was supposed to be spending the day with his friends, as he’d already told you the night before when he snuck over because “couldn’t stay away”. He’d invited you on the boat but both your parents were home all day so there was little chance that you could go anywhere without drawing attention to yourself. Weekends were easier, your brothers and sisters who had stayed close came over with their kids and if you left no one missed you. But during the week it was just the three of you, an odd adjustment after so many years with so many kids.  

You sat at the table across from JJ, doing your absolute best not to look at him, knowing he was staring at you just to piss off your dad, who had already mentioned your upcoming engagement twice. Your mom let your dad lead the conversation like she always did and didn’t object to his over excessive mention of Timothy.  

“Do you go to the high school then?” She was doing her best to be polite, not completely certain your dad’s paranoia was based on fact. (“Just because you say you saw him in the yard doesn’t mean you saw him in the yard.”)

“Ah, yeah...” JJ nodded, “sometimes.” He took another bite of the sandwich, “hey, this is really good, you’re a really good cook.”

While The Wreck technically counted as homemade because it was Kiara’s dad who made it, JJ hadn’t eaten a real, home cooked meal, in a long time. His mom, when she had been around in his childhood, was not making lunches or any meals for him that she couldn’t microwave.  

“Oh, Ace made it.” Your mom said, beaming at you, “she’s a natural in the kitchen.” 

“You’ve been-“ JJ stopped himself short of saying you’d been holding out on him, coughing and then continuing on, “it’s good.”

“Thank you,” you chanced a glance up and then quickly back down at your plate. 

Lunch was excruciating and when it was finally over, JJ leaving and your dad watching him walk back into the woods, you told your parents you weren’t feeling well and went to lay down. You were flushed all over from lunch, sitting there across from JJ with your parents in the room. It was like knowing a secret you knew you weren’t supposed to. 

Tapping sounded on your window and you opened it, JJ standing there outside, “you’re gonna get me trouble,” you whispered. “My dad is convinced he’s seen you around our yard.”

“That’s cause he has.” JJ replied, kissing you once he was inside the room. 

“I know that.” You whispered, “what are you doing?”

“I’m reading your love letter from Timmy,” he shrugged, sitting down at your desk and pulling the letter out of the envelope. 

“It’s not a love letter,” you huffed. When you got close enough to try and take the letter away JJ spun in the chair, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his lap. 

“Let’s see, oh, coming to visit?” JJ said, poking your sides as he read the letter, leaving kisses along your shoulder. “So you get to go on a date?”

“Well, chaperoned.” You replied. “My dad wants to go somewhere ‘outer banks’ style, whatever he thinks that is, to show off to Timothy and his parents.” 

“Go to the Wreck.” JJ said. 

“I’m not going to Kie’s, I’m not gonna embarrass myself.” 

“Trust me,” JJ insisted, kissing you, “go to the Wreck.” 

You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing it back out of his face and kissing him. Your hands moved down so you could hold his face, leaning your forehead against his.  

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, his hands sliding up under your shirt, his warm skin against yours.  

“I don’t want to do this.” You admitted, “I don’t wanna have dinner with Timmy.”  

“Hey,” JJ pulled his face away, tilting so he could look you in the eye, “That shit doesn’t mean anything.”  

“It does in the long run,” you replied. When you had gotten Timothy’s letter that morning you’d been more than upset, knowing he was coming to North Carolina felt like the last nail in the coffin before your dad was sending you off to Tennessee.  

“Do you like him?” He asked, matter of fact.

“No, no.” You shook your head. There was no way you had any feelings toward Timothy other than mild annoyance. He wasn’t bad but he wasn’t for you. And maybe he would’ve been if this was all there was but you had JJ and there was an entire other space out there. “I wish we could just…stay like this.”

“Me too.” JJ replied.  

You pulled away from him suddenly, remembering the way he’d looked when you had walked into the church and found him there with your father. “I forgot, you were upset earlier-”

“It’s fine, it was just a dumb fight with John B.” He insisted, “I’m over it.”

“Are you sure? You can tell me anything.” You promised. You had been secret keeper and confidant for your siblings plenty of times over the years and while their conflicts had never really been worthy the secrecy, you had still been good at the task.  

“I’m fine, I promise,” he repeated, “I was just upset and I wanted to see you.”

“Well you’re seeing me now,” you teased, holding his face again so you could kiss him, “though I think you should consider leaving before anyone comes to check on me.”

-

The Wreck was totally not where you wanted to be going on a chaperoned first date with a guy who looked almost more sheltered than you felt on a regular basis. He had khakis and a polo tucked in, spikey blond hair and you were trying so hard not to be mean in your head. This was the guy your parents thought would make a great addition to their family. This was your future husband?

Any concerns or reservations you had about Timothy went out the window as you walked into the Wreck ahead of him and realized that JJ and Pope were sitting at the counter. JJ turned in his stool as you came in, propping his chin on his hand and smiling at you. 

“Hey,” Kiara had donned jeans and a t-shirt for the occasion, “six?” 

“Actually, these two will have their own table.” Your mom piped up and you looked at Kiara, attempting to convey the absolute horror of the early evening dinner.  

“Of course,” she said, grabbing menus. You could hear your father behind you, mentioning JJ’s presence in the restaurant. Whether Kiara heard it or JJ had just requested that this be the most difficult first date to get through, the table she sat you at was facing the counter. Your parents sat two tables over with Timothy’s parents while you sat down in perfect view of JJ and Pope.  

“So, what’s good here?” Timothy asked, his voice an octave higher than he looked like it would be.

You scanned the menu as if you ate there all the time and then looked at Kiara, hoping she could offer more of an answer then you could.  

“The grits are good, we do them with sausage and shrimp.” Kiara replied.  

“That’s fine.” You handed off your menu, not bothering to consider another option. Even though Kiara knew that this was all something you had to do, you felt a sense of guilt, sitting there with Timothy while JJ was sitting at the counter.  

It was palpable, you felt like you could taste it in your mouth as you spoke, felt the guilt dripping off you. Timothy wasn’t the worst, probably, and, probably, in someone else’s life he would make them happy but you weren’t sure there was any reality that would allow you to walk away from what you had with JJ and resign yourself to this life. To your mom’s life, or your sisters’ lives.  

“I’ve been looking into getting my pilot’s license, I’ll be done seminary soon-” Timothy started to say after Kiara walked off.  

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were interested in becoming a pilot.” You replied, glancing over his shoulder at JJ who was turned around in his stool, his back against the counter, watching you. If your dad wasn’t facing the opposite direction you were certain he’d be having a fit right now.  

“...the plane license would take another year at least but it’s something I can easily pursue after the marriage and it would allow us the opportunity to be missionaries-”

“Missionaries?” You paled, focusing your attention back on Timothy and away from JJ.  

“Timmy’s older brother is ministering in Zambia and they’ve always talked about Timmy joining him,” his mom cut in.  

“Missionaries in Zambia...all the time?” You asked. Your father had already launched into a separate conversation about the importance of ministry work and you felt close to absolute collapse. When Kiara came back to the table to make sure the food was okay you practically clung to her, “bathroom?”

“Through the kitchen,” Kiara lied, noting the look of distress. “Our regular bathroom is being fixed.”  

“Thanks.” You bolted. Through the restaurant and the kitchen, right out the back door and you might’ve run all the way home but somehow JJ was right there, grabbing you as you collided with him. “I can’t do this...I can’t, I can’t....I can’t be a missionary! I can’t live in Zambia and have like thirteen kids and name them all something stupid and have poufy fucking hair!”  

“Whoa, hey, babe,” JJ urged, pulling you into a hug, rubbing your back soothingly, “it’s gonna be okay.”  

“What if it’s not?” You could keep pretending like you didn’t have to think about it but the truth was, you couldn’t run from your parents’ expectations and plans forever. “I can’t do this.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” JJ promised, kissing the side of your head as he stood there holding you, “I love you. And I don’t give a shit about Timmy, or your parents, or whatever...we’ll figure this out.”

“This was a bad idea, having lunch here.”

“Hey, I don’t think so. I got to hear you curse for the first time.” He joked. “We’ll be okay, just head back inside alright?”

“Okay,” you pulled away, fixing your hair and taking a deep breath, trying to right yourself. It was just dinner. It wasn’t Zambia yet. It wasn’t even the wedding. Just dinner and JJ was right there. “Oh, JJ?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” You said before hurrying back inside, leaving him standing behind the Wreck with a sad smile on his face.  

-

“Scarlett does it every year with some of the kooks, like a raffle.” Sarah explained, recounting Scarlett’s ’Touron Game’ for JJ and John B, “500 to whoever gets the most tourons...they have like a scoring system. Kind of awful, I guess, but...I mean it’s not like they don’t know it’s just sex.”

“500?” JJ asked, “I could use that.”

“What are you gonna do, pimp yourself out?” John B joked.

“I’ll give you 200,” Sarah replied immediately, cutting her boyfriend off. She was looking across the parking lot of the convenience store.  

“What’s the catch?” JJ asked, following Sarah’s line of sight to the old minivan, a girl their age standing with her mom at the trunk.  

“That’s the weird pastor’s daughter, right?” Sarah asked, already knowing the answer, “get her to sleep with you. I’ll even give you the 200 dollars up front.”

“Yeah okay. It’s a deal.”  

-

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