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unprofessional-bard · 4 years

Text

Don't Push It, Pt. 1

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Part 2 (1/2)

Based on this request.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (the reader is 26 and Joel is 53), a lot of teasing/sexual tension, implied romantic feelings.

Summary: It's been going on for years. They both know better than to act on their feelings, but patience starts running thin when a few boundaries are crossed.

Word Count: 5.280

Author's Note: Okay y'all so I am a whore for Joel with long hair and I unintentionally made this into a fix-it au where Joel is alive. Also, the reader is going to have some OC characteristics to fit the scenario better. Finally, this fic changes POV's a lot, so I'm gonna clear that up:

• ----R and below: The reader's POV.

• ----J and below: Joel's POV.

• ----B and below: Both POV's.

The fic starts off with Joel's POV.

Enjoy!

gif credits: nikolai-stavrogin

"Hey, Joel," Dina called over to the man sipping coffee on his porch.

"Mornin' Dina," He replied as his daughter's girlfriend walked over to him. Her baby bump had grown a little more and it never failed to put a smile on Joel's face.

"There's a little trouble with the patrol today," She said. "Jesse won't be able to make it to patrol with (Y/N)."

Shit.

"And they're askin' me to fill in?" He sat up a little.

"Yup, Maria told me to ask you if-"

"No problem, sure, I'll do it." He spoke nonchalantly, then asked if Jesse was alright. Dina told him she wasn't sure, that it must be something important for him to miss patrol, which made Joel nod: "You told (Y/N) too, or...?"

"No, but she's gonna be there regardless. I doubt that she knows."

"Alright, thanks Dina," Joel got up and she smiled in return before walking over to Ellie's place.

It was wrong. By the lord it was wrong, but he couldn't help it. You were fierce, confident, determined and disciplined; qualities he came to appreciate in time, but a bit differently only when it came to you. He shouldn't want you, an unknown source in his mind kept telling himself, but he did. He didn't know why, he never found himself being attracted to a woman your age, yet you had him under your spell. Oh the things you did to him...

Worst part was, he couldn't have you, whether he liked it or not. Nevermind the fact that you were too young for him, you probably didn't want him anyways- despite the crystal clear signals he got from you. It was just how you were, though: A little physical and perhaps a little flirty, but he could just be confusing that with your confidence.

Or he could be overthinking everything.

Joel readied his backpack, but realised there was still a little more than an hour before the rendez-vous, so he decided to head over to your place to tell you about the news to kill some time. After he made it there and knocked on your door while calling your name a couple of times, which were left unanswered, your neighbour curiously looked over the fences and called over to Joel: "She left a while ago... For the gym, I think."

"Thank you," Joel smiled politely and earned a wave from the lady in return. He took his time as he walked over to the gym. After he arrived, he looked around for awhile to spot where you were, but when he found it, the sight almost made him choke.

There you were, ankles crossed as you pulled yourself up and chin over the barfix with closed eyes, a frown and a clenched jaw. Sweat laced the sides of your face and Joel's eyes wandered lower: You were wearing a sports bra and matching shorts which hugged your frame tightly and the sun was shining directly onto your muscles, which the lord himself carved out and were also sweaty, but Joel didn't care - it made you look more attractive, if anything. You let out a huff and lowered yourself down, while he tried to collect himself. He didn't want to disturb you so he decided to wait until you finished...

...but you didn't seem to be finishing any time soon. He didn't want to look like a creep as he stood there and waited, so after you did another pull up and let yourself down, he cleared his throat.

----R

"(Y/N), here you are."

Had you not been already hanging, you definitely would've fell when you heard Joel's voice reach your ears. You opened your eyes to see him slowly approach you, his stupid thumb stuck in behind his stupid belt.

You hated it: You hated finding this man attractive and you hated your guts for occasionally flirting with him - him, who probably would never look at you the way you looked at him. He liked you, of course, he enjoyed your company but not the way you wanted him to. You hated that you had a crush on this man, who became even more gorgeous as he let his hair grow over the last few years, you also hated how he neatly parted it to the left.

Patrol with him was both a treat and a curse at the same time. You got to spend time with him, which made it a treat, but when you watched him- saw him in action, how aggressive he was, heat started to pool between your thighs. He was so rough and precise as he was smart; he always knew what to do under any circumstance, so you almost never worried when you went out with him. He made you feel safe, praised you and played with your heart when he responded to your flirting and nothing came out of it.

You hated it because your little "crush" on him was pathetic, for someone as confident as you. Sure, you teased and flirted with him, but one praise as simple as you did well today and you'd be melting on spot. You even tried to get with other people to distract yourself, to no avail. They weren't Joel.

None of them could ever be Joel.

"Good morning!" You said with a high pitched voice, reflecting your struggle to keep yourself up.

"To you too," He chuckled at your state and watched as you pulled yourself up slowly. "Hey, listen. Jesse ain't gonna make it to patrol today so I'm fillin' in for him."

----B

The way you faltered a little didn't escape him: "Why? Is he okay?"

"I dunno, but I'm sure he is. Something important must've come up," Joel informed you, not wanting to worry you as you seemed to care about him. A lot. Ugh.

"Tsk," You breathed out and closed your eyes to focus on keeping your head above the metal bar.

Joel then spoke again: "Yeah, I was just here to let ya know."

"Okay, well-" You exhaled audibly and suddenly let yourself go. The force of the action sent you flying a little and it almost made you bump into him: "Woah, oh, sorry-"

"Woah there," You both chuckled at the same time. Joel held you by your elbows to help you balance yourself and your heart rate picked up pace when you realised how close your face was to his chest a moment ago - the chest you wanted to get your hands on: How muscular was he? How many scars did he have there? How would it feel to run your fingers through the hair as you ro-

"Uhm, yeah, as I was saying," You snapped yourself back to reality and took a small step back, disappointed by the way his fingers let go of your arms: "I'm done here, just need to do a couple of stretches, then head back and take shower."

"Right. Well, I'll see you at the gate, then?"

"Uh, sure, yeah."

You didn't know what else to say other than stay. You wanted him near you and around you, you wanted to show off to him and you wanted his attention, so you had to think quick.

Joel didn't want to leave either, even though you were going to spend the whole day together. He still nodded and turned around to leave. It was then, when a brilliant idea crossed your mind: "Actually, Joel?" He turned around, gave you a soft look that made you want to run up to him and kiss all over his face. "Could you help me with my stretches?"

If he'd been drinking or eating anything, he most definitely would've choked: "Help you?"

"Yeah," You flashed a smile at him. "It's simple, you just gotta press me down and keep me in place." The widening of his eyes, puzzled face and his tense posture made you shy. "Eh- Normally, Jesse helped me with them."

True. Some stretches required someone to push your body to its limits - when you worked out alone, you stuck to simpler stretches, but right now, you needed a reason to have him by your side.

Joel was torn between leaving, like a responsible person who knew when to walk away would. He was responsible, yes, but his moral compass was thrown out of the window whenever you joined the picture. So far, he wanted to think he was handling his emotions well- by not acting on them and not talking about them.

Now, however, it was as if he was facing the last straw. He had a few boundaries left to cross, and this was one of them.

"Plus, I'm a bit tired to do them. Will you help me?"

Lies. All lies.

You'd been doing these stretches for long enough, even though you'd worked hard, you weren't tired at all. Joel thought this to be the case, so he tried to go around it: "You sure? I mean, how're you tired?"

"I've been training like hell this morning," You settled on the mat. "I don't wanna do these stretches, but I have to. I'm not in the mood to pull a muscle today."

That was good enough for him really: "'Kay," He sighed. "What do you need me to do?"

Your eyes glowed in excitement before you faced forward and explained: "Im gonna lean forward, like this-" You extended your legs forward and lowered yourself down. "All you gotta do is press on my back and stop me from moving away for a few seconds."

A few seconds which felt like five minutes, truth be told.

As soon as he touched your bare back, you sighed, then forced it into a hiss. He immediately retreated his hands, thinking he hurt you, pushing the ludicrous idea that you might have moaned away immediately.

His hands were big and a little cold comparing to your skin which was on fire after the workout, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't do that on purpose. You straightened up and looked at him with an innocent smile: "Your hands are cold."

Not cold enough to make you react like that, obviously.

Joel offered an awkward chuckle from the back of his throat: "You're gonna have to deal with it, missy."

And deal with it you did- barely. Christ, that was a bad idea, your worst one yet. To have his hands on your bare skin, pressing you down made your cheeks burn and mouth hang open as he kept you in place. You almost didn't hear him when he spoke, too busy trying to comprehend the size of his hands and how they'd feel around your throa-

"How many of these do you gotta do?"

"Uh, dunno," You blurted out. "Not too many."

Joel was partly glad, it felt so wrong yet it was just a simple act of help you could've asked from anyone. After 20 seconds of staying like that, you straightened. You went into a head-to-knee position and gave him an okay to press you down again.

You switched to the other leg after half a minute, but you were running out of ideas. There weren't any positions left that you could use his help with, so you played one last card to ruin him: "More."

"W-What?"

Good riddance.

"Press a little harder," You pretended to focus and tried your best not to smirk, knowing you had him where you wanted.

"Oh- hm," He cleared his throat and pressed a little more down on your back. If your plan hadn't backfired and made you almost moan through your teeth, everything was going accordingly.

Joel went to pull back, but stopped when you added: "It's been a while since I did these..."

Christ.

"That enough?" He slowly retreated his hands and stood up, watching you lean up where you sat.

"Yup, that'll be it," You smiled and blinked a couple of times. If Joel had known better, he would've thought you were making him do that, then being all cute on purpose-

It was going to be a long day.

----R

Patrol with the older Miller went as normally as it always was. Part one usually went like this: Meet up at the gate, get your rifles and horses, ride out, reach checkpoint one and sign your names. The road to checkpoint one didn't have any trouble, it usually never did. It was more quiet between you two than usual though. Had you gone too far?

"So, uh," You said once the two of you mounted your horses again. "You coming to the dance tonight?"

"What?" He snapped his head in your direction, looking clueless. "What dance?"

"Well, not a dance exactly but- you know what I mean?" You started riding. "The adults only event?"

He looked really distracted, a bit tense even: "Oh, right. You know those ain't my thing."

"I know," You nodded with a soft smile. "But I haven't seen you in any event ever since you decked Seth."

"Decked?" Joel chuckled bitterly at the memory.

"He deserved it, and more, that prick," You rolled your eyes, making him chortle.

"And nobody managed to shut up about it for the whole month," He sighed with a gorgeous yet tired smile on his face which you managed to see just in time. "So, no thanks. I'll pass."

"Aw, come on," You whined. "You can't avoid coming to these events forever. Please?"

He gave you a confused look, his smile slowly disappearing but not in a bad way: "Why?"

A good question. Oh, no reason, just wanna try and make a move on you, quite possibly jump your bones if it all goes well.

"I wanna make sure you haven't lost your ability to socialise." You offered.

"Really? Why, you're my momma now?"

"Ew, no," You both laughed. "Can't I be sure my friend is alive and well occasionally?"

----J

Friend.

A word that made Joel stop and think.

You saw him as a friend, huh? Two people, with clear sexual tension and an obvious age gap between them- Friends was an awkward description for him, but it was better than nothing.

He opened his mouth to reply, to insist that he was indeed alive and well, but you stopped him: "You know what I mean."

The conversation was making him a little distracted, he noticed, so he decided to keep his mouth shut until you reached checkpoint two. You didn't press him on, which was also a delight. That's another thing he liked about you: You knew your bounds- in patrol anyways. Or maybe it was because you got to know him well over the time, knew what he liked or not.

Part two went quieter too- infected and conversation wise. Not even a single runner was on sight as you swept through the small cabins and houses. Except for the occasional clear's and nothing here's, you didn't say anything else. Joel itched to talk to you, about anything to break the silence, but he was too lost in thought.

When you finally made it back to Jackson, you finally spoke up: "So? You coming?" He chuckled, mostly out of relief, then you added: "I found a new outfit, I wanna know what you think."

That caught Joel's attention. With a curious smile, after handing over your horses, he asked: "What outfit?"

"You'll see... If you come." You smirked, your close proximity making Joel's heart race.

"Don't get your hopes up," He sighed with a small grin and tucked his thumb behind his belt, the other one gripping the strap of his rifle.

"You're the worst," You punched his shoulder with mock upset, making him chortle and stumble a little to the right. "Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow then."

Joel remained quiet, then you walked away with a soft smile gracing your lips. The words sunk deeper than he would've liked, a sudden wave of guilt soaking his guts with regret, even though you didn't sound disappointed or upset. Lips pursed, he watched you hand your rifle to Peter and sign off, then leave; his steps coming to a halt as you did.

He just might check out what was up at the dance tonight, if he could successfully move himself out of his comfort zone in the following few hours.

----R

"Well well, look who it is," Tommy grinned when you approached the doors of the pub. The night had settled across the sky by the time you stepped outside your place. The sound of music and chatter of the people from inside filled your ears.

"Yours truly," You smirked. "It's crowded in there huh?"

"It sure is," Tommy said as he turned around to lead you inside. "Adults only events tend to attract more people, as y'can guess. Don't you look pretty today."

"Why thank you." You smiled playfully: "For no one, but myself, at that."

You lied through your teeth. You had dressed up in the silly hope that Joel would actually show up. You had been planning on it ever since you came across the item wrapped around your hips in an abandoned clothes shop a few weeks ago, and this event was the perfect excuse for you to wear it. For him.

"I ain't sayin' nothing!" Tommy raised his hands up in defense. "Figured that much, haven't seen anyone catch your interest in a long time."

Ha. Nice.

The atmosphere was lively and the air was warm, full of energy. Chatter and dancing went about the packs of people scattered across the space, but you couldn't see Joel, much to your disappointment - you weren't surprised though. What surprised you was Jesse suddenly showing up.

"Where's Ellie and Dina?" You asked after a while of teasing him about missing patrol.

"They decided to stay behind, I guess." He shrugged.

"What can I get y'all?" Tommy smiled, suddenly appearing behind the counter. Without waiting for an answer, he filled two glasses and pushed them towards you. You and Jesse looked at each other for a brief moment, before knocking it back at one go. "Woah there..."

A round of laughter later, you felt someone's presence behind you, then they tapped you on the shoulder: "Hey, (Y/N)!"

Much to your disappointment, once more, it was a boy named Mark. He was a year older than you, had no features whatsoever matching Joel's prettier ones and he took an obvious liking to you, which in truth you didn't appreciate, even though he wasn't weird about it or anything. You faked a smile and turned to him a little: "Hi."

"Good to see you," Sure. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Busy, actually," You pointed at the glass Tommy was refilling for you.

"Mind if I join?" He made himself comfortable on the stool next to you.

"Yeah. I do." Your smile never faded but your words were laced with poison.

He looked between you, Tommy and Jesse, mortified at your answer: "W- Heh, well, would you wanna dance later, then-?"

"No, I don't." You spoke calmly and turned to face Jesse again, only for him to move to tap you on the shoulder, which Tommy stopped from happening.

"Why don't you go home, huh?" He grabbed his wrist firmly, but not hard enough to leave a bruise of course. "The lack of oxygen in your brain's clearly stoppin' you from understandin' a word as simple as no."

You looked over at the younger Miller, a stern look on his face which seemed to make Mark piss himself. Suddenly, an even deeper voice was heard behind the boy: "I advise you to listen to him, son."

You turned completely in your seat to see Joel grabbing Mark by the shoulders, making him jump, then remove him from the seat carefully. Mark's legs were quick to oblige, making him walk towards the exit, but Joel held him in place: "A-ah, what do you say to the lady?"

"I'm s-sorry, (Y/N)," He nodded quickly. "I'll never disturb you again, I promise."

"Good boy," Joel patted him on the back, which sent him running to the door. Your cheeks were suddenly burning and you couldn't help but smile shyly.

"Tsk, what a jackass," Tommy nodded disapprovingly as Joel took the now empty space next to you.

"You decided to show then, huh?" You smirked at Joel.

"Yeah, figured you'd break someone's wrists and make 'em eat it," He chuckled, tipping his head at his brother in a greeting -God he looked so handsome, was that a new shirt?- before he continued: "Decided it'd be a shame to miss it."

You giggled and lightly pushed at his arm, almost immediately feeling the muscles underneath the rolled up sleeve of his blue shirt: "I'll take that as a I came because you asked and I listened for once." The exchange, obviously, didn't go unnoticed by his brother and Jesse, which made you sit upright suddenly: "Tommy was the one who was gonna break his wrist anyways..."

"Nobody gets to disturb anyone here, especially right in front of me," He said and slid a glass to his brother.

Jesse joined in: "I doubt it, but should he ever-"

"Aw, you guys are spoiling me," You grinned and waved your hand down, pressing the other onto your chest.

----J

You looked beautiful. You were wearing a plain, dark green, mid-thigh, flare skirt; which could pass as a miniskirt, but Joel was no fashion expert. You always did come up with the rarest clothing items (like your sports set that morning), so he wasn't surprised that you happened across the skirt. You also had a simple, white, v-neck t-shirt on- which all in all was the reason you left Joel speechless: You could be wearing something as simple as these, but you'd still look so damn pretty.

A few minutes later, after Jesse and Tommy disappeared in different directions and you were finally left alone, Joel spoke up: "Is this the-"

"What made you-" You gave each other a brief look before chuckling: "You go first."

"Ah, I was gonna ask if this was the outfit you wanted me to see," He said, briefly looking down to point at your skirt.

He watched you run a hand through your hair and bite your bottom lip before answering: "Yeah..." You got up and stuffed your hands in your pockets, which made Joel's heart sizzle. "What do you think?"

He gave you a genuine smile: "I think you look beautiful."

The shock on your face made Joel panick a little, but when you offered a shy little smile, he relaxed: "You- Really?"

He gave you a single, slow nod in acknowledgement, his smile grew bigger when you beamed at him and offered him a quiet thank you, then sat back. You were staring hard at your glass, clearly avoiding his gaze and he found it rather cute, but didn't comment on it.

He was looking forward to chat with you, after all, you were the reason why he showed up, but you were unfortunately dragged away by a couple of friends, Jesse included...

To dance.

An upbeat song he didn't recognise started playing, putting you and another boy, Mick, to action. Everyone backed away to give you two space, then started off with what seemed to be something you'd been practicing for a while. You mirrored each other's moves, it was similar to some folk dance he'd watched way before the outbreak, but it most definitely wasn't a folk dance. Your arms linked occasionally, hands on your hips as you crossed each other's legs with fast movements and other types of moves Joel couldn't name if he tried, but it was organised and fun to watch. It wasn't intimate, too, just a silly little dance as you called it minutes later when you finished and walked to the bar for a drink. You didn't stay long, though, just downed your drink, winked at him and went back to the stage where you and Mick (but mostly you) stole the show.

It went on for two more rounds, to the point your t-shirts were absolutely soaked and your legs couldn't take it anymore. Joel had a particularly hard time in his seat, watching your skirt float around your thighs made him feel embarrassed with himself. Tommy even went as far as to tease him about his constant squirming, but a glare from his older brother was enough to shut him up.

The last dance finished off with you in Mick's arms, leaning back in his hold and closing your eyes with laughter. Everyone clapped you both, which earned you a kiss on the cheek from Mick- which you returned. Joel's jaw clenched unintentionally, even though you and him didn't appear to be more than friends.

Stop. Stop it, you idiot.

He couldn't care less about these types of things, drama about who's dating who and whatnot, but when it came to you he naturally grew curious.

He watched you, eyelids struggling to keep themselves open as Jesse led you and helped you onto the stool, next to Joel once more. You huffed and giggled, eyes closed with sweat droplets on your forehead. He couldn't help it when his smile grew wider at your tipsy state.

What he didn't see coming was the sudden hand on his thigh and your back against his arm, letting your head drop onto his shoulder as you let out a brief laugh: "Never let me dance and drink at the same time again."

Joel didn't know what to say, he quickly looked around for Jesse only to find him already gone and a couple of people staring at the both of you. With a rush of panic, he responded: "I don't think I'm the one you should say that to, darlin'."

Your hand and the rest of your body immediately retreated when you jumped at his voice: "Joel?!" You looked a little embarrassed and he couldn't help but smirk. "Uh, where's Jesse?"

The question almost made him scrunch up his face, but he patiently waited until the end of the conversation, which was after you've walked away to find the boy in question and he was alone with his own thoughts... Jealousies...

"He dropped you off and went over there, I think." Joel nodded to the direction he thought Jesse went off to - he didn't see though, he was too busy focusing on you when your fingertips had brushed somewhere dangerously near his crotch.

"Huh," You stared around to find him, but Joel figured you were too intoxicated to actually see that far. "You need to stop wearing the same clothes."

He raised a brow at that: "You tell him that."

"Oh I will," You grinned mischievously and suddenly grabbed Joel's glass of whiskey from his hand, then downed it at one go before he could intervene.

"Hey!" He tried to grab the glass from you but you leaned back. "I think you've had enough for the night."

"Says who-?" You pouted and at the very same time, lost your balance, realising that you leaned a little too back. However, Joel caught you; one hand on your arm, the other on your waist and he pulled you back - he didn't know if you did it purposefully, but you practically fell into his body: "Oh! I'm sorry-" You laughed, not looking sorry at all. "Thanks, Joel," You purred, extending the 's' and the 'l' at the end of each word as you grabbed onto his biceps. "You saved me."

"Pfft," Joel couldn't help but let his hand linger on your waist as he made sure you stood in place. Your eyes met when you lifted your head from his chest - the meaning behind his hazel gaze and your own was similar and it lasted for what felt like a whole minute, while in reality it was no longer than a few seconds.

You finally let his arms go and he took it as his cue to remove his hand from your waist (which, for a moment, felt like it had been glued there): "So... You enjoying yourself, old man?"

Joel sighed through his nose, amused at how the alcohol in your system was slowing your speech, then went back to how he had been sitting before you came. Just when you asked, the smooth, familiar tune of Ain't No Sunshine started playing. After all the excitement, a slower music felt nice: "Sure. You?"

"Oh I sure am," You nodded and leaned back against the counter with something of a triumphant smile.

"I can tell," Joel replied, then without turning his head, side eyed you. His stare later on moved down to your skirt. "Why'd you get all dressed up for, really?"

"Huh?" You blinked, not processing if he was asking what you thought he was.

"I, uh- just never took you for the skirt type."

"Is that so?" You asked, eyes widening. "Well, just trying on a new outfit..." You looked down and bit your lower lip, making Joel's heart skip a beat. He mentally kicked himself for not leaving right then and there and continuing to talk to you: "There's actually another reason."

"Hm?"

"There's this guy," You turned towards him, placed your arm paralleled across his on the counter and leaned forward a little, pretending to look around. His fingertips scratched against the wooden surface of the counter at the mention of this guy in question. "I don't know his name, but maybe you do?"

He just raised a brow when you looked at him innocently: "He's a bit old, around this tall," Your hand went back and forth in the air as you tried to size the man's height in your mind. "Has pretty, long, graying hair with an also graying beard... A little scar on his nose," You looked at him and leaned in a little more, invading his personal space but not touching him, then pointed at the exact spot on your nose and it was then, Joel realised, that you were indeed describing himself. "He's wearing this blue shirt and, honestly, it would look better on him if he opened another button or two."

I know, I know

Hey I oughta leave young thing alone

But ain't no sunshine when she's gone

He wanted to counter, tease you back, lean down and taste your lips, then place a kiss or two on your neck and bite it softly just to hear you moan quietly into his ear- he also needed to get his shit together, as much as he wanted to do all of that.

He couldn't quite believe his self control when he leaned away from you, especially since the tip of your noses almost touched and he felt your hot breath on his lips. He cleared his throat and quickly looked around to see if anyone was looking- no one had seen the rather intimate interaction so he spoke: "I don't know who that is."

The disappointment on your features was like a knife twisting up in his guts. You blinked a couple of times, but didn't lean back: "S- Sure you do..."

"I don't," Joel insisted, his voice stern. "Maybe you should look for someone else."

Your disappointment turned into embarrassment and anger, making you frown and lean back: "Excuse me."

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And this house just ain't no home

Anytime she goes away

And with that, you got up and stormed away, leaving Joel wanting, aching and ashamed.

Anytime she goes away

496 notes · View notes

sol1056 · 5 years

Note

What are your overall thoughts on Castlevania season 3? So far the season, particularly the last two episodes (especially the 9th episode), have been controversial.

Well, that penultimate episode definitely put me in mind of the famous quote…

Obiwan: “I feel a great disturbance in the force…”

Half of which was probably screams into the void over this seeming betrayal, and the other half was shrieks in delight about confirmed OT3 potential.

On a more serious note, I’ve got a bunch of asks about S3, so I’m covering them all in this one response, because my thoughts come down to one thing.

This season was all about trust.

If we can consider this season (much like S1) to be setup, these episodes are for getting characters into the places and mindsets that the following act will require. So whatever we get in S4, it’ll require that Sypha be accustomed to Trevor’s life as an outcast demon-hunter, that Trevor accept his choices impact more than just him, that Alucard repell intrusions on his solitary guardianship, that Carmilla has a bound forgemaster and solid plans to grow an army, and that Issac has a full-sized army of his own.

A pedestrian approach would have been all plot: a whole lot of running from one place to the next while shouting exposition. It could’ve ended up a truly jarring tonal shift between what’s basically four separate storylines: Alucard and Cho’s former prisoners, Sypha and Trevor and Saint Germain, Isaac’s journey to find Hector, and finally Carmilla and Hector. Though given they hardly interact after the first episode, we could treat this as two parallel storylines: Carmilla and her sisters, and Hector and Lenore.

(Spoilers behind the cut.)

Instead, Ellis uses these four (or five) storylines to explore different issues with trust, betrayal, and isolation. Sypha and Trevor recognize that St Germain’s unexpected willingness to trust wasn’t born of seeing them as trustworthy, so much as a symptom of St Germain’s overwhelming isolation and loneliness – and they even remark on the similarity to someone else, implied to be Alucard. Who – after his highly guarded and distanced interactions with Sypha and Trevor in S2, followed by a month (or a year, Alucard’s lost track) of total isolation – has come to the same place as St Germain.

In both cases, those finales pivots on whether this third, isolated person can be trusted, as well as whether that person can trust the pair that claims to be helping. St Germain isn’t a fighter, and goes into the finale clearly terrified as to whether Sypha and Trevor can even keep him safe, while Sypha and Trevor have to take it on faith that St Germain’s intentions are good. (If you take Alucard’s animation to indicate that he has no experience as a lover, then the parallels are even more stark.)

Meanwhile, Isaac – as the captain so insightfully points out – remains fixated on the offenses done him, easily dismissing the kindness of an unexpected gift from a stranger. Hector’s issue, on the other hand, is too much trust, given too easily, with no questions ever asked (as Lenore drives home, first through interrogation and second through manipulation). Isaac’s determination not to trust anyone makes his way more difficult, while Hector’s determination not to question his immediate trust in the latest authority figure is what eventually traps him.

Even the four vampire sisters (an element I really loved, almost making up for the first two seasons’ near-dearth) pivot around issues of trust, but in their case, it’s whether they can trust that Carmilla’s grand vision is feasible. They don’t distrust Carmilla, or her ideas – they distrust that they can fulfill her visionary plan to its fullest extent. But they’re also intrigued by the idea, and clearly competent enough to make it happen – and despite a few times where it seems there might be fractures (more of Lenore’s diplomatic manipulation, in hindsight), the four really do trust each other pretty firmly.

There’s a secondary theme threaded through the storylines, too, although we only hear it stated explicitly in the Isaac and Trevor/Sypha storylines.

the captain: “If you don’t have your own story, you become part of someone else’s.”

The context here is whether one’s motivation comes from an external source, or is internal to the person. Isaac’s motivation (at least at the midpoint of this season) is clearly stated as revenge on Hector – that is, to rectify Hector’s wrongs that undid Dracula’s story. Alucard, too, is trapped in someone else’s story, as his motivation first is that he thinks helping two lost souls would please his mother, and later that training new demon hunters would please Trevor.

Sypha’s motivation is simpler: action! adventure! excitement! And in not stopping to consider the source (or the results) of her motivation, she ends up being accessory to not one but three stories (with Trevor along for the ride). The Trevor/Sypha storyline could be seen, in this light, as one in which they’re tools in other peoples’ stories. They fail to warn/assert/react fast enough to prevent the mad priest’s actions, they learn of (and then tackle) the church problem due to the town mayor’s need, and they learn of (and then tackle) the thing in the basement due to St Germain’s need.

In the end, St Germain (like Dracula) goes onto the next chapter of his story, with Sypha and Trevor left to handle the aftermath (like Isaac). They don’t even reclaim their story with the final discovery of the mayor’s depravity, as they end up (if understandably) destroying the evidence, as the mayor had requested.

When Trevor echoes the captain’s words (which could be Ellis wanting to drive the point home, or could imply that at some point, Trevor also met the captain), Sypha deflects his point. She’s quite certain she’s been living her own story, and enjoying it immensely. In the aftermath, Trevor turns the point around, saying that for the past few months, they’ve been living Sypha’s life, all action and adventure.

Trevor: “And now, we’re living my life.”

Trevor’s origins, after all, lie in the destruction of his family – but that destruction wasn’t at the hands of the demons they fought. Instead, it was at the hands of the church, its people, and the larger community. His storyline in S1-S2 was of someone who’d seen the worst of humanity, and ended up deciding to fight because he chose to, not because humanity deserves it.

With the possible exception of St Germain (which is more of an open question than a certainty), they trusted and discovered their trust wasn’t misplaced, so much as… that taking everything at face value meant they remained blind to what lay beneath. Their story halts with Trevor reminded of why he originally kept people at a distance (through snark and alcohol), and Sypha now enlightened as to how sometimes humans are far worst monsters.

That blindness is also present in Alucard’s story, when he takes the two young prisoners-turned-hunters at face value. He opens his house (well, most of it) to them, trains them, and tells them secrets of how to hunt his father’s race. It’s a radical shift from his original reaction to the Belmont hold, as a museum dedicated to the extermination of his race.

Which brings me to Ellis’ choice to have the finales as parallel battles, but he manages to have them reflect each other, as well. For Isaac, Sypha, and Trevor, it’s an external battle against an overwhelming foe. Sypha ends with literal blood on her hands, and other than St Germain’s departure, the rest of their victory is literally pyrric.

For Hector and Alucard, their storylines peak (ahem) at what should be a moment of trust and connection, which is why I can see the choice to have those storylines turn sexual. (Honestly, I thought the two young hunters were just going to cook Alucard dinner in return, or something – I had zero expectations that any story would ever go there.)

First, five separate battles would’ve been just a lot of chaos, compared to the contrast of apparent happy-endings (or happy-middles). Second, it drives home that Alucard has defenses all over the place, but none to seduction, while Hector simply clings to whomever is willing to call the shots, and only thinks to question later. They’re in the stage of their story that the captain raises to Isaac: after you’ve achieved this goal, what next? What is left for you?

Which is why I think their parallel endpoints – Isaac’s final battle, Alucard and the hunters, Hector and Lenore – all come to a head at being bound in some way. They’re still playing out someone else’s story, so they run headfirst into situations where that tunnel-vision can be used against them. Isaac may be the least trusting of the lot, but even he shows a remarkable tendency to take things at face value: to trust the gift from the seller, to listen to the captain, to sit and converse with the old witch who tells him about the possessed city. With as little foreknowledge as Alucard or Hector, Isaac rushes in, eyes too fixed on achieving someone else’s goal to see the trap ahead.

None of the bindings are shown as simple, easy to break, or without lasting effect. At the same time, it’s striking that Isaac and Alucard do manage to force their way free, while Hector can only flail about in pain. To me – given the theme of trust – that implies that somehow, both Alucard and Isaac do have the potential for a balanced trust. That is (unlike Hector) knowing when to take it away, even if both struggle with learning to give it.

Oddly, that’s why I think the season managed to position things beautifully for a next season, because we’ve come full circle.

It’s a curious thing about Alucard: when we first meet him in S1, he’s recovering from his father’s betrayal (of attacking humans); in S3, he’s recovering from the grief of loss (his parents, his only two friends) – and S4 ends with him shivering in pain/hurt over the betrayal of two people. Gotta wonder how much more Ellis will see fit to break this character down.

In S2, Hector was a valued lieutenant, if terribly blind to the implications of what Dracula wanted. Now those illusions are gone; he’s enslaved, wanted only for his skills (in the forge and in bed) – and the deal is quite explicit. Lenore has the grace to say that Hector should be getting something out of the deal, but that doesn’t change that Hector can’t pretend there’s no deal being made.

Isaac begins cast out, grieving Dracula (not entirely as a mission, but more as a friend, I think) – and ends with the resources and experiences to go in a new direction. He doesn’t have to take out Hector, who could be seen as small fry, anyway. (Especially given Hector’s now just a shell of a controlled man.) If Isaac chooses to go after Carmilla in S4, that’ll be the first step towards making his story his own. Note also that although Isaac may seem alone, he’s accompanied by a host of creatures. He has allies.

It’s the trust in those allies that seems to determine who ends well, and who does not. Although Trevor and Sypha (especially Sypha) were dealt an emotional blow by the post-battle revelations, they always had each others’ backs – and they leave the town behind, relatively unscathed. Isaac ends victorious, with a few of his army intact and the material to make more.

But the storyline that ends in the ascendant position is Carmilla’s. With her visionary ideas and her sisters’ abilities to make those visions real, Carmilla is positioned to go exactly where she wants. Which is why it’s also striking that (other than Lenore’s sex scene), neither Carmilla nor her sisters really have a ‘final’ battle. They’re effectively a season ahead of everyone else – the trust between the four is already established, solid, and reciprocated equally.

So you could say that being foolhardy about trust will land you in hot water – which pretty much covers all the central protagonists. But the story’s not that bleak, despite its final scenes, because it’s also saying that sometimes, to get where you want to be, you do have to take that leap – as illustrated by Isaac and St Germain. Or even that you trust, and if betrayed, you deal with the consequences, learn the lesson, and move on, like Trevor and Sypha.

Or you learn a different lesson, one preached by dear old dad: put the bodies of your conquests out front on stakes, and lock the doors, and trust no one. Which is a legitimate reaction to betrayal, don’t get me wrong, but one that S3 seems to be firmly saying will only end badly.

#castlevania #season 3 #sol thinks about stuff

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theredhairedmonkey · 5 years

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Viren and Callum—Defining Heroism

Callum is a foil for each of the three antagonists, and each season focuses on a different pairing.

During Season 2, Callum’s arc was a foil to Claudia’s. I break down some of the similarities between them here. Callum and Claudia both exhibit a curiosity to learn more about magic (particularly at the Moon Nexus), and both are fiercely protective of those closest to them. To the extent they will use Dark Magic to protect them.

But whereas Callum tries it once and decides to reject it for good, Claudia continues to succumb to this temptation, time and time again.

During Season 3, Callum’s development is contrasted with Aaravos. At this point, Callum is, like Aaravos, a magical prodigy; each had mastered at least one Primal Source they weren’t born connected to.

Additionally, both demonstrate great influence over the lives of those around them. But they are diametrically opposed in terms of their goals. Whereas Aaravos cares primarily about advancing his own interests, Callum wants to genuinely help people, and empower them to make their own choices (as opposed to manipulating them like Aaravos).

This foil can be summed up simply—Callum is motivated by the Narrative of Love. Aaravos is motivated by the Narrative of Fear.

Harrow: “I ask you and your brother to reject history as a narrative of strength and instead have faith that it can be a narrative of love.”

Aaravos: “You tried to win over the other humans with loyalty and friendship, but they ignored you. Those who fail tests of love are simple animals. They deserve to be motivated by fear.”

But the focus here is on Viren and Callum, and starting in Season 1 and throughout the first three seasons, Viren and Callum have very deep, narratively important parallels with one another.

Both are the mages who advise their respective Kings.

Callum: “When you grow up, sometimes you have to face things you’re not ready for.”

Viren: “He insisted I stand next to him in the painting, because he knew I would stand by him through anything.”

Both are curious and want to explore the depths of magic to the greatest extent possible.

Viren and Callum are also both insecure in their place in the world, relying (at least initially) on magic to help give them a sense of belonging

But their differences not only define their dynamic, they also define many elements and themes to the Saga, in particular as to what it means to be a hero.

To begin, Viren is great, though not necessarily good. That is to say, even though he may be capable of great deeds that save countless lives (such as in saving the people of Duren with the heart of a Titan), these deeds don’t actually make him a heroic person.

This is because every great deed he did stemmed not from altruism or compassion (no matter how well he convinced himself that it did), but from his tragic flaws: his arrogance, his vanity, and importantly, his hubris—his belief that he can subvert the natural order in his favor without consequence.

From what we can gather, Viren is a force to be reckoned with. His skills with magic have made him so powerful, he can cast a spell that would save two kingdoms from starvation.

They are also such that he’s considered by Amaya, a talented warrior herself, perhaps “the most dangerous human in the world.”

His martial prowess is quite exceptional as well, as he’s able to go toe to toe with two Dragonguards for a time. Even though they’re elite fighters and they’re flanking him, he’s able to hold his own for a while before having to resort to magic.

However, Viren is a tragic character. I don’t mean this in the sense that we should feel sorry for the power-hungry man who attempted to murder two boys and steal the throne. Rather, his “greatness” is undermined by his personal flaws, which he can’t quite shake and prevent him from being good.

Part of Viren sincerely wants to improve life for his people. When talking to Aaravos, to whom he has no motivation to lie, he states his aim is to help mankind flourish “without a knife to its throat”

He’s even willing to consider sacrificing himself, either for King Harrow or, in Lux Aurea, for his army.

Aaravos: “We’ll risk as few lives as possible. One.”

Viren: “Ah. Mine.”

But as per his hubris, he exhibits great pride in how his abilities can help mankind flourish or save his people. While he wants mankind to prosper, he wants this to be his achievement and wants people to know that he is the one who saved them.

In his story to Queen Aanya, he places a bit of undue emphasis on the fact that he was the one who up with a solution that saved Katolis and Duren. Whether or not this is what happened, it’s clear that he wants Aanya to know that he personally saved her kingdom.

A little less unclear is how necessary he ultimately was. Sarai goes back to save Viren because “without him to perform the spell, the heart is worthless, and this was all for nothing.”

I’m...skeptical as to whether this is what Sarai says, or if it’s Viren intentionally or unintentionally reading in what he wants her to say. Truth be told, Viren has no idea if this is what Sarai said because he wasn’t there when she said it. And why is the heart worthless? Viren wasn’t the only Dark Mage in the world, and probably not the only one between Duren and Katolis. There’s no reason why another mage couldn’t perform the spell.

But for Viren, the heart of the Titan might as well have been worthless because, in his mind, he’s the only capable of accomplishing these great feats.

Even when he was potentially willing to sacrifice his life for Harrow, he botched it with his speech to Harrow.

Viren: “Right now I do not come to you as my King. I think of you as my brother.”

Truth is, none of this throat-clearing is necessary. But, Viren’s not quite so humble, even when he’s attempting to do the right thing. He still wants to be seen as someone special, even when laying his life down for another.

Turns out, this was entirely the wrong thing to say to Harrow, who is put off by Viren’s self-righteousness.

Harrow: “I see the problem now. It’s that you believe you are special. Better than everyone else, above the laws of this kingdom.”

When he’s forced to kneel and Harrow calls him a servant, this infuriates Viren and he sets aside any plans he had to sacrifice himself for his King.

Harrow: “You are a servant of Katolis. You are a servant.”

Because if Viren is going to sacrifice himself, he needs people to know what a great thing it is that he’s doing. He’s not a mere servant, he’s their savior.

It’s interesting that Viren’s pride is so hurt of being called a servant of Katolis, since that’s exactly how Harrow sees himself, according to Viren.

Viren: “King Harrow worked tirelessly. He told me he thought of himself as a servant of all the people of Katolis. A servant King.”

But Viren doesn’t see himself in this way. When his potential sacrifice is treated with the same level of significance as though he were anybody else, it offends him that he has to share that importance with others.

And thus, his pride leads to his downfall, casting aside his desire to protect his King, and replaces it with a desire to be the King himself.

Viren: “Today, we must mourn sevenfold. For tonight, there will be a coronation.”

Callum, on the other hand, begins his journey on the opposite side of the spectrum from Viren. Whereas Viren can accomplish great feats without being good, Callum is a good person, though not great.

At least, not yet.

According to the main site, “Callum has a big heart, and always tries to do the right thing.”

He can be super proud of himself and his accomplishments, but he usually has enough perspective to avoid letting this get in the way of what he knows is important. For instance, he connects to the Sky Primal, something thought of as impossible for humans, he immediately shifts his attention to Ezran, never once bragging or reminding people of his accomplishments.

Corvus: That’s incredible, Prince Callum.

Callum: Thanks…uh, who are you?

And, when it comes time to laying his life on the line for others, he never hesitates. Notably, around the same time as Viren was thinking about sacrificing his life for Harrow, Callum was preparing to sacrifice himself for his actual brother, but with none of the bravado or self-righteous congratulating of himself.

Just a solemn, quiet attempt to save his brother, even at the cost of his own life, and even without anyone finding out about his sacrifice.

For Rayla, he performs Dark Magic, knowing how much she could possibly hate him for it, but deciding that her life is worth more than how she sees him.

Callum may start out with a big heart, but when it comes to his skills, well…

But if Viren begins as both powerful and amoral, it makes perfect sense to have Callum’s arc to begin as his opposite--someone without any special abilities but with a strong moral compass.

Because of this, we get to see him go from good to great. And his story walks this fine line, where he develops these magical abilities to perform heroic feats walking hand in hand with the realization that he doesn’t need magic to be heroic.

Callum: “It’s up to us now. We have to return this egg. We have to keep it safe and carry it to Xadia.”

Callum has the same temptation as Viren—this need to be someone important, which is a big part of his arc in S1 and S2.

In S1, he initially places a high premium on his sense of self-worth, willing to put their mission in jeopardy just so he can obtain an object that might help him become a better mage.

He assigns great importance to objects (such as the Primal Stone and the Key of Aaravos) rather than focusing on people or lives. Much in line with the way a Dark Mage would attach significance to magical components that are needed for spells.

Callum: “The truth is, its not me. It’s this. All the magic, all the power, all the confidence. It's just because of this amazing thing. A Primal Stone.”

Ellis: “That Primal Stone needs you to do all that amazing stuff. Without you, it's just a neat, glowy ball.”

Callum: “I guess so. But without this, I'm nothing. Just a guy who can draw and make wry comments from time to time. And they're not even that wry.”

Much like how Viren assigns great value to the mirror or the Dragon Egg, even above his own children’s lives.

Viren: “The egg. If you have to choose [between Soren and the egg], choose the egg.”

But by the end of S1, he realizes just how much more important the lives of his friends and the Dragon Prince are over his own sense of pride or self-worth. Unlike Viren, who places a great degree of importance to his sacrifice (honestly, Harrow should be honored that Viren would consider throwing himself on the sword for a mere king), Callum simply makes the realization of what he needs to do…and then does it.

S2 follows the aftermath of his decision, and Callum has to deal with no longer having his mage abilities. Again, he latches his entire sense of self-worth to be able to do magic.

As @raayllum points out here, he also aligns his ability to do magic to agency. Without magic, he’s paralyzed by indecision and an inability to do the right thing. He believes himself imprisoned by his inadequacy.

Callum: “If we're really going to change things, we can't just watch while humans and Xadia keep hurting each other. But how do I take a stand? Believe me, I want to go down there with you, and be the heroes who stop all the fighting and save the day, but I can't do that. I can't do anything!”

And he follows this line of reasoning to its logical conclusion:

Dark Magic

Dark Magic gives him all the power he needs. If Callum wants to be special (like Viren), if he wants to have agency and freedom for himself, this is the path he can take.

Dark!Callum: “You can have unlimited power, and you can choose what to do with that power.

And in that moment, he’s tempted. Truly, he’s tempted, to commit to this path, set himself free from his past limitations and feelings of worthlessness.

He can become like Viren, and make himself great…but in a moment of clarity, he sees Dark Magic for what it truly is.

This isn’t freedom. It’s not the power he wants.

It’s just another prison.

And unlike Viren, who succumbs to this temptation, Callum sees through it.

What’s noteworthy is that Callum doesn’t press on the point that it’s possible for him to learn an Arcanum and do magic some other. He doesn’t insist he can make this choice easy on himself; he chooses that, Arcanum or no Arcanum, this is not the kind of magic he will choose to do.

Callum: “Destiny is a book you write yourself!”

Instead of attaching his sense of self-worth and agency to magic, he breaks free of this toxic cycle and seizes the ability to direct his own fate.

This is a lesson that he then passes on to others.

Rayla: “What does this mean? What should I do?

Callum: “I don’t know. But it’s your choice. No one else’s.”

He finds his agency and self-worth independent of his ability to do magic, and realizes that his potential is actually in his complete control. Fittingly, it’s this realization that completes his journey to finally understand the Sky Arcanum.

In the end, Viren and Callum are quite similar, but the former lets his flaws get the better of him, his pride sinking him until he becomes malicious, grasping, and power-hungry. Eyes set on stealing the power to make him important.

The latter ascends past his prior limitations, refusing to yield to his own worst impulses.

Moreover, Callum holds on to his ideals in the face of adversity, even at his own expense, while Viren constantly tries to find “pragmatic” and expedient solutions to problems that always happen to end up with him on top of everyone else. Viren continues his dramatic decline, eagerly crossing one moral horizon after another, until by the end, he admits to Aaravos what he is really after is conquest; he’s willing to steal Zym’s life force just to become more powerful, sacrificing the entirety of his army to do it.

Callum, on the other hand, begins to truly understand what can make a good-natured person into a hero.

He expresses it in a speech about Rayla…

Callum: “It's because Rayla is a hero…Rayla saves people. She's brave. She does what's right, even if it puts her own life in danger, and even when the odds seem impossible. Even when it means her own people might misunderstand and turn against her. Rayla is selfless, strong and caring. That's what makes her a hero. That's what makes her Rayla.”

…and then proceeds to do each and every one of those things on the pinnacle. He bravely leaps after Rayla--even though it put his own life in danger--because it’s the right thing to do. Even though the odds of quickly mastering a complex spell on the way down seemed impossible.

Viren thinks his great feats are a substitute for a good character. Callum’s journey, on the other hand, is learning those character traits that make one heroic. He realizes, not only that Rayla is “selfless, strong, and caring,” but also why and more importantly, why he can be those things too.

And this dynamic between Viren and Callum culminates in the finale, where one falls…

…and the other rises.

#callum #viren #rayla #ezran #harrow #tdp #the dragon prince #s2 #s3 #s1 #aaravos #primal magic #dark magic #soren #claudia

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ladyfantasy98 · 4 years

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Flyers and Favors, Part 2!

Hello! First, thank-you for the wonderful response to my Danny Phantom fanfic, Flyers and Favors! I’m really honored that so many people have liked and reblogged -- some of them twice!

So while I had intended it to be a one-shot, inspiration struck, and I’ve added a second part! With a possible third part to come at a later date.

Chapter 2 deals with Dani battling Skulker when he comes to bother Danny during study time. It ended up longer and a bit more serious than I intended, but I think it’s still humorous and a good read (if I do say so myself ;) ).

Let me know what you think! I’d love to hear your thoughts on it!

You can read this second part either below the cut, or on my Fanfiction.net account. Happy Reading!

Danielle knew the instant a ghost showed up. A shiver ran through her body and she gasped, releasing a small blue puff of air.

With a grin, she jumped up from her brown wooden desk and transformed, letting two white lights wash over her body and change her into her ghost form, Dani Phantom. Her shoulder-length black hair (layered with triangle cuts in the back) became white, and a black-and-white jumpsuit replaced her purple pajama shorts and button-up top.

She turned intangible and flew up through the ceiling of her bedroom - created by siphoning off sections of the Fenton family's lab - until she reached her older cousin/brother/creator Danny's room. She poked her head through his floor just in time to see him finish his own transformation into Danny Phantom.

"Hey!" Dani called, startling him and making him jump up into the air. Hovering there, Danny looked over at her.

"What's up, Elle?" he asked. Ever since she had moved in with the Fentons a year ago as their adopted daughter, the family had taken to calling her Elle, Ellie, or Annie to differentiate between her and Danny. Dani didn't mind, but she still introduced herself to new people as Dani-with-an-I, and she would always be Dani Phantom.

"I got this one," she answered Danny. "Go back to studying."

"But - "

"I can handle whoever it is, I promise," Dani insisted. "That's the whole reason you went into the Ghost Zone the other day, right? To make sure they'd leave you alone so you could study?"

"Well, yeah, but -"

"Then study. These exams are really important to you, I know."

Danny lowered himself until he was back on the floor. He glanced over at his desk, which was covered with pencils, textbooks, and loose-leaf paper filled with scientific equations. "I mean...this can wait. You have homework, too, I know. I'll just stay up and -"

She narrowed her glowing green eyes - the same as Danny's - at him. "Danny. Please. My Pre-Calc homework is not going to determine whether I graduate or get into my dream college program this week. Just let me. Handle. The ghost."

Danny stared at her for a moment, looking torn, before he finally sighed. Twin flashes of light raced up his body, and his eyes turned blue, his white hair - cut shorter and closer to his head than when he was 14 - became black, and his own black and white jumpsuit disappeared to reveal a NASA T-shirt and a pair of blue boxers.

"Alright, you win," he conceded. "Just...be careful. And you'll get me if you need help?"

Dani rolled her eyes. "Yes, Dad, I promise. Now go do you homework!"

Danny laughed. "Alright, Mom." But he waited and watched as Dani pulled out her phone and quickly shot off a text to Valerie, saying the exact same thing she'd told Danny, before turning intangible again and flying through the roof.

Bursting into the night air, Dani took a second to enjoy the rush of flight, before putting herself into a fighting mindset. Looking around at the houses, clearly illuminated by the giant green Fenton Works sign attached to the Fentons' home, Dani couldn't see any signs of a recent ghost attack. No broken windows, no smoking buildings, no screaming people.

But she'd definitely sensed a ghost earlier. Maybe it was something small? Or it was still in the lab? Now that she thought about it, she should have just checked out the lab first, especially since it was right next to her bedroom. But she'd wanted to make sure Danny didn't go after the ghost himself. He'd been super stressed over his final AP Chem and AP Physics tests this week and she had wanted to do him a favor by taking care of any ghostly threats that came through.

Not to mention it would show him and the rest of Team Phantom that she was mature and skilled enough to protect Amity without any of them breathing down her neck. Honestly, she loved her cousin, and Sam and Tucker and Valerie, but sometimes they were way too overprotective. They acted like she hadn't spent over a year living on her own, fighting ghosts and for her own survival. And they had been worse lately; their impending collegehood must have been making them overly nostalgic and worried and adult-like.

Dani was about to head back inside, when she gasped, her Ghost Sense alerting her once again. Then, sensing something coming towards her from behind, she dodged to the left - just in time to avoid the grappling hook/claw that zipped by her. It landed in the sidewalk down below, cracking the concrete.

Dani spun around, following the mechanical line up from the hook to the ghost who had fired it. When she saw who it was, she groaned.

"Oh, come on, Skulker? Really? Do you know what time it is?" she demanded.

"Ah, the Ghost Girl. Nice to see you. I'd been planning on hunting your sire, but a fight with you should warm me up nicely!" Skulker exclaimed. He pressed a button on his suit, and the grappling hook shot up from the sidewalk and returned to Skulker with a hissing sound. "And, yes, I know it's late. My apologies. Believe it or not, it's morning right now in the Ghost Zone."

Dani rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Floating higher until she was eye level with Skulker, she prepared her own ecto-blast, green light coiling around her hand. "Also, how many times do I have to tell you, Danny is my cousin, or maybe my brother. He's not my sire. That makes him sound like a medieval king or something. It's weird."

Skulker chuckled. "You're more right than you know, child." Then, raising his arm to ready an ecto-energy cannon blast, he added, "Now, enough talk. Let the hunt begin!"

Danielle smirked. "You're on."

She took aim at the center of the robotic suit and launched her ecto-blast. Skulker simply dodged it, and fired his own attack. Danielle turned intangible and let the cannon fire pass right through her. Undeterred, Skulker launched a type of flaming arrow, burning with his signature green-blue fire.

I should probably move the fight away from the neighborhood so nothing gets too damaged, thought Dani. Dodging the small projectile and flying over near the park, she asked,

"Didn't you get the flyer?"

"Of course I got the flyer. The Ghost Child littered them all over my front lawn!" Skulker exclaimed, shooting out three more rockets from the launcher on his right shoulder.

"And, what, you just decided to ignore it? That's so not cool." Dani reached out her hand and encased the rockets in her ecto-energy, containing their explosions; smoke billowed within the green spheres as she lowered them to the ground.

Dani then flew towards the park, where there would be less people to hurt and less buildings to damage. Skulker chased after her, donning a pair of night-vision goggles, even though there were still street lamps in the park.

"I thought you guys were allies sometimes," Dani added, stopping in mid-air above one of the public fountains. She could hear the water gurgling slightly in its concrete bowl.

"Yes, when the fate of the Ghost Zone is at stake," Skulker answered. He hovered on the opposite side of the fountain, arm outstretched towards her. "The whelp failed to explain in his flyer how him failing a test would be the end of the world."

Dani narrowed her eyes at the hunter. "It'd be the end of his world," she told him. She held up both hands and formed two more ecto-blasts. "What's important to Danny is important to me, so I'm not gonna let you ruin this for him."

"How admirable." Skulker fired another blue laser at her, which she dodged. She released her ecto-blasts, hitting Skulker in the chest. He crashed into a nearby tree, breaking the poor plant in half. When Skulker remained on the ground, Dani hovered closer to him. Placing both hands on her hips, she said,

"You don't plan on following him to college, too, do you? 'Cause that would be even more uncool."

Skulker merely grinned at her from among the wood splinters. "But of course! Where the prey goes, the hunter goes. The whelp doesn't think he can shake me just by going to a different learning institution, does he? How foolish!"

Dani fired another ecto-blast at him. He yelled in pain as it hit, pounding him into the ground. Dani smirked as the dust settled. That oughta teach him.

Only to widen her eyes in surprise when she saw that Skulker was no longer on the ground. "Wha - ?"

A presence behind her. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see Skulker's grin before he backhanded her, sending her crashing into another tree. Dani groaned as the tree fell, sending a shock wave of pain up her body. Spitting out leaves, she gathered herself, then rose up into the sky.

"Alright, Skulker, not ba - aaahhh!" Dani screamed as a ghost-proof net wrapped around her, knocking her back onto the ground and sending bolts of electricity through her body. She was left panting and jittery once it passed.

"Haha, you underestimated me, didn't you, Ghost Girl?" Skulker crowed as he walked towards her, his metal boots crushing the grass underfoot.

Danielle scrunched her eyes in pain, before opening them and glaring at the ghost hunter. She wriggled in the net, frustration building as she failed to free herself.

Skulker picked up the net and Danielle, holding her as if she weighed nothing. She'd gotten a bit of a growth spurt once she'd turned fourteen, reaching Danny's old height, but Skulker was still much larger than she was. Well, his suit was, at least.

"You know," Skulker began, regarding her thoughtfully, "I've never understood why you cling to human traditions so much. You, Phantom, even Plasmius - you all plan and prepare for human lives, human futures, but why? You're ghosts. And sure, lots of my neighbors concoct plans for world domination - even I like the occasional vacation out in the human world. But ultimately, we all belong in the Zone. Even you three."

Dani blinked up at him, surprised by his sudden philosophical demeanor. Even as she huffed and struggled in the net, she couldn't help but agree with him. There were times - when she was flying, high above the earth, or slipping between buildings without a care for the laws of physics, or using her powers to fight ghosts intent on doing evil - she wondered why she wanted to be human. Why did she want to pretend to be an ordinary girl, when there were people like the Guys in White that would capture and dissect her and her cousin the first chance they got? Why should she hide herself in this world, when in the Ghost Zone no one cared that she was part human?

But then...

Then she remembered the look on Danny's face as he taught her how to use her powers to help people. How excited he was to receive the acceptance letter from Amity University, contingent on his grades though it was. The joy and pride Danielle felt when Jack and Maddie welcomed her into their family, ghost powers and all. Going shopping with Jazz, and having her explain things like bras and periods. Hanging out with Tucker, Sam, Danny, and Valerie, listening to them joke around and plan for the future, even as they made Amity Park a safer place.

Dani sucked in a deep breath. "Skulker, you're right," she said. "We are half ghost."

Then, hoping she was right, she transformed. The white rings washed over her, her ghost side tucked away for now, leaving her in all her human glory. And - to her delight - as soon as she was human, Dani fell out of the net.

She landed on her feet, and smiled up at Skulker, who looked confounded. He must have forgotten to use the anti-halfa net instead, or perhaps, like usual, he had underestimated her.

"But we're also half human. And so we decide where we belong."

Mid-transformation, Dani jumped up and decked Skulker in the face. The ghost sailed to the left, gouging a trench into the earth as he landed. Before he could get up, Dani unhooked the mini-Fenton Thermos she always kept with her from around her waist and aimed it at the ghost. The thermos' opening shone brightly, its light sucking Skulker up into its metal confines.

"No! No! I'll get you for this, Ghost Girl! You and the whelp!" Skulker thundered, his words becoming quieter and more distorted as he disappeared into the thermos. Dani capped it and twisted firmly, sealing him inside.

The night became quiet once again. Dani surveyed the former battleground, pleased to see that the park had sustained little damage, outside of a few broken trees. Hooking the thermos back onto her belt, she rose into the air and headed home.

Danielle didn't know where she quite fit in yet - in town, in school, in life - but there was plenty of time for her to discover that. Right now, all she wanted was to stay by her family and friends' sides. And if the the price for that was battling a few ghosts and sticking them in Fenton thermoses - for at least six months, she thought gleefully, imagining Skulker's misery -

Well, then it was a price she would gladly pay.

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asherlockstudy · 4 years

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@noisyshaun replied to your photoset “This has always been one of the most intriguing GMMores I have watched...”

Someone explain ? ��

Okay yeah there are many reasons I find this particular GMMore very interesting.

First of all, Link is in a kind of mood in general, maybe a little pensive, we can't tell why or what the mood exactly is like, but he's certainly feeling some way.

So this more is just Ellie attempting to read his tarot cards. Throughout the whole episode, Link is more interested in the romance card. He brushes off Ellie's readings for the other cards (wealth, health, job etc) and he repeatedly says he's not worried about them and it's gonna be okay. He asks the romance card to be saved for last (probably because he knows this one would be more interesting to the viewers too but still). He also says that the accuracy of a particular interpretation will be proven in the romance card.

That interpretation is none other than that he's purgatious, that he feels obligated to redeem or purify himself once he's done something "nasty", ie when he thinks he took something too far. And he linked that to the romance card. This episode aired two years ago and it's more interesting than ever to me now after the Spiritual Deconstruction EBs where Link says he would regulate and restrict himself in way too strict and conservative ways the moment he thought he "lost control" in his relationships.

The devil inside me forces me to add that this came way too easily in Link's mind when Ellie explained her reading. As if it was not just a fact from 20 years ago, when he was still unmarried and very religious. Besides, when Rhett and Ellie failed to understand what he meant by "paying for his nasty", Link mentioned for the second time that day that Christy had slept alone or without waiting for him or something, implying some small fallout that could possibly also explain his moodiness. Now, that could also be Link deflecting so as to not give the real answer of what he meant. Still, if we combine all these together, they make for a really interesting sequence.

The bonus gifs are even more interesting and although they might be irrelevant, I had them in the same post in order to show how this episode is special in its entirety. Ellie takes an astrological turn and asks Link whether he's a Gemini like her and she tells him she feels him when he confirms it. Look at Link's face; he looks like he needed to hear a word of understanding badly. After this new bond of understanding established between them, Link immediately states that they (Geminis) don't know what they want. We can only make assumptions about whether he meant this about money, career, romance or general but what's certain is that this came out of him exactly the moment he felt Ellie being understanding which means that it was something troubling him. Ellie is not sure she agrees with his statement, and Link quickly adds: "But we're unhappy that we have it". This of course doesn't make sense grammatically but what Link meant was : "We don't know what we want. (Or actually we do know what we want) but we are unhappy that we have it". Which means that Link has something he wants or loves but something troubles him too much for him to enjoy it. I said "might be irrelevant" but this could actually work in combination with his "paying for his nasty" statement. This of course is just an observation, not #THE TRUTH 100%.

*Rhett probably knew what was troubling Link in the second discussion because he gets way more focused and visibly engaged when Link starts saying he doesn't know what he wants and that he's unhappy with what he has.

#link neal #rhett and link #gmm #dare i say #rhink #i am just gonna throw it there just in case #reply #randl #noisyshaun

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 6 years

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Straight Eye for the Queer Girl: Episode 1: A Girl Schemes and Dreams

I have no excuses, only words, and a haunting idea that would not go away but doesn’t actually deserve to be made into a story.

The premise: For whatever reason, Wizard Trotsky and Ginny are still going at it in a sixth year that’s remarkably similar to Harry Potter’s sixth year in Hogwarts, but in the “Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus” universe.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Tom finally said, and it was with a certain air of reluctance, as if he’d rather not say this but felt he had little choice otherwise. Ginny, of course, wanted to hit him.

Part of the trouble of having a voice in your head though was that you couldn’t hit him. Just like you couldn’t get rid of him or really do anything about him. Terrible as it was though, Ginny had kind of gotten used to Tom over the years. Oh, certainly the crush and idolization had faded, and there had been about a year of grumbling bitterness that nobody but Lily had even tried to do anything about it (not that she’d gotten much of a reward for her actions) but that in time had faded too.

Truth was, given a bit of time, Ginny realized that she and Tom actually had a fair bit in common. Well, not quite, they had one very specific thing in common. And, while at first it made her uncomfortable and then a bit hostile, being stuck in the same body having the same goal wasn’t such a bad thing.

Simply put: Tom Marvolo Riddle wanted Eleanor Lily Potter as much as Ginny ever had.

He also had a more intimate, well, perhaps a different understanding of her than Ginny did. Truth be told, thanks to Tom, Ginny had never gotten much of a chance to know her or to see much more than the golden image she presented. It was Tom who made it a point to know her inside and out, to see her heroism and nobility for what it was, and to call her only by her middle name with an almost heartbreaking fondness.

So, all things considered, by Ginny’s fifth year she didn’t consider Tom Riddle, her reluctant brother in arms, that bad of a source when it came to things like this. And it wasn’t like she could ask Ron on how to seduce Lily, but, still, that didn’t mean she didn’t want to knock his teeth out every now and then.

Ginny, on the train to Hogwarts, separated by several compartments from Default company and Ellie Potter (not that Lily was likely to be riding the train anyway, she’d probably show up in the middle of the feast sometime looking like hell itself was on her heels). This wasn’t necessarily great, but it gave Ginny some time to think and scheme.

“What’s wrong with my idea?” Ginny spat back.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with it, per se—” Tom started, which of course meant he thought everything was wrong with it.

“Look mate, we’re not doing too well. The Cedric thing, that whole Cho Chang thing from last year, that can’t happen again! At the rate we’re going Lily doesn’t even know we exist!” Ginny had just about died when, after showing up for every single Rebel’s Alliance meeting, she’d had to watch as Cho Chang asked for Lily’s personal help in creating a patronus. And with Lily’s lean body, her red curls, brushing over Cho’s shoulder Ginny had had to bite her lip to keep from spewing profanities that would make Fred and George blush while cursing Cho Chang into the next century.

“Oh, she knows,” Tom replied ominously, with that smug masculine pride which really was not helping their case. Because if she knew she sure wasn’t showing it, she’d spent the last three years barely glancing at Ginny or else looking sort of awkward about Ginny’s whole first year.

Which, Ginny got, it was a rough year for her two, but Lily could at least look at her!

“No, but she will know!” Ginny said, a grin growing across her face. She stretched, kicked her feet up across the bench in her compartment, letting the planned future sink in.

She’d already done good work over the summer in the burrow. Lily had shown up in the last few weeks, looking very uncomfortable with everything, and Ginny had made very sure that Lily knew exactly where Ginny was and where to find her.

And that those hours Ginny had watched femme fatales and sex icons in every major muggle film Tom could think of hadn’t gone to waste.

When Ginny smoldered, damn, she smoldered.

“I just don’t see how throwing ourselves at Dean Thomas will lead to anything productive.”

Obviously, it was going to make Lily extraordinarily jealous.

“Lily does not give a flying fuck about the likes of Dean Thomas.”

No, Ginny thought, now Tom was just willfully missing the point.

“Look, we did step one, right? Step one was getting her to notice us at home, notice that we’re bloody hot. Mission accomplished. Step two is to make her do something about it. She sees us in the arms of Dean and suddenly she’s all hot and bothered and realizes it’s because we’re all over this loser instead of her. She then punches his lights out, sweeps us off our feet, and we are done!”

And then, so to speak, came the honeymoon. Granted, Ginny didn’t know where exactly they’d go inside Hogwarts, they might have to sneak out or else find a broom closet or something but after five years Ginny was desperate enough to go for just about anything.

Including the likes of Dean Thomas.

Tom said nothing for a moment, silently brooding inside of Ginny’s brain, and then his smooth voice sounded once again, “As an admirer of a well-thought plan, I have to say Ginny, that I think we’re skipping over a few vital steps—"

“You’re just a chicken,” Ginny cut in before he could go on whatever eloquent rant he had planned.

“I am not a—”

“You’re just too scared to go making out with Dean Thomas, even for Lily,” Ginny said, and backed this up with the strongest mental image of a chicken she could muster up, one clucking its way in a hen house and looking as undignified as possible.

“Believe me, if it had a chance in hell of working I would be right there with you! As it is, we’re going to sunder ourselves with some Gryffindor blow-hard for nothing! I am not going to be trapped in the Hogwarts whore, Ginny!”

“Well, fuck you, Tom,” Ginny said, throwing her hands into the air and almost tempted to say it out loud, “It’s my body so we get to do my plan!”

Because he really didn’t have much of a choice these days, it generally took more effort possessing Ginny than it was worth, so he’d just have to sit this one out and go sulk when Ginny was proven right and he was proven a brooding loser.

And he was sulking already, disappearing into the back of her mind with a grumble that she never listened to him and this was just going to be so embarrassing, and that as soon as this failed they were going with his bloody plan whether she liked it or not.

Ginny simply stood, pleasantly smiled, and went off to find Dean.

“You know, I feel like Dumbledore’s just specifically passing me over for prefect,” Lily said to Hermione, once again Default prefect while Lily remained lowly quidditch captain of Hogwarts’ far and away worst quidditch team, “It’s been five years now, you think I’d get it at least once.”

Hermione didn’t even spare her a glance, simply pinned on her prefect badge and made her way to the front of the train with Lily in tow (because lord help Lily if she was just going to sit in the compartment with Zabini and Greengrass), “It would help if you were responsible, and if you could manage to even finish one term.”

“My lack of attendance is in no way shape and form my fault.”

As usual, Hermione didn’t seem to buy that, even though it was very true. The forces of the universe, or Tom Riddle rather, conspired actively against Lily’s education. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d really missed anything important.

It was at that moment that she came to a sudden halt.

“Oh, Tequila,” Lily said, though it came out more of a curse than a greeting.

There, blocking their and almost everyone else’s path, was none other than fifteen-year-old Ginny Weasley eagerly sucking the tongue of some Gryffindor whose name honestly escaped Lily. Ginny’s eyes were half lidded, moved over towards Lily as if watching specifically for Lily’s expression watching whatever the hell this even was.

It was oddly reminiscent of those horrible few weeks where Lily had been kidnapped by Albus Dumbledore to slum it up at the Weasleys. There, every few hours, Lily would somehow find herself walking in on Tequila in various seductive positions and states of deshabille. She’d flutter her eyelashes, in a manner Lily believed was supposed to be read as sultry, and would extend a pale freckled leg towards Lily.

Her dark eyes would glitter in the half-light, and every gesture, every motion seemed to scream at Lily to come hither and fall into her arms.

It had, each and every time, felt staged enough to be a sex dream. Except Lily was never dreaming during these, and rather than being tempted, mostly felt this bewildering sense of doom and a need to leave whatever room she was in very quickly.

Which, in fact, was what she was about to do right now, “Right, bye, Hermione.”

And Lily turned right around and left Tequila and hapless victim number one to their procreational activities.

“New plan,” Tom said as Ginny forlornly tore herself away from Dean long enough to watch Lily disappear back into a compartment, “We murder Cho Chang.”

#lily and the art of being sisyphus #fem harry #ginny weasley #tequila weasley #tom riddle #wizard trotsky #straight eye for the queer girl #episode 1 #writing #trotskyxlily #ginnyxlily #the fact that this is labeled episode one does not mean there will be more of this #though I do like the idea that these two just do terrible schemes together in an attempt to seduce our reluctant heroine #but seriously don't expect more

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randomnumbers751650 · 6 years

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So, I'm writing this because I'm trying to understand psychological horror, focusing on two animes from last year: Angels of Death and Happy Sugar Life. I wanted to write this because I got inspired by discussions on the Netflix's Ted Bundy show, Explanation Point's video on HSL (which made me watch it), and because I made the mistake of reading AoD's prequel manga Episode 0. Spoilers abound.

Due to way I was raised, I have difficulty in understanding stories that villains are the protagonists. Why would anyone cheer for them? Sure, there are many logical arguments, like the attempt to understand how his mind works and the cathartic feeling of being able to do feelings you know you'd be wrong. I have a RP blog and I once talked to with a friend on trying to understand how musing an utterly despicable muse could be so cathartic and she wondered if it's because it allows her to vent her stress and negative feelings on fictional characters, instead of real people. Logically, it makes sense, but I still feel odd about it.

I first watched Angels of Death because I really enjoyed the portrayal one of my best friends in the RPC had of the protagonist, Rachel Gardner. I honestly think it was a well-written anime, Rachel telling Zack that they weren't tools and the climax with the building on fire were my favorite moments. AoD also had a great advantage because it was self-aware, the banter between Rachel and Zack was pretty hilarious, and Cathy and Danny were also evilly funny. I always wondered how AoD managed to get to be an anime and Ib not...

Also, another thing that AoD makes sure to show is that every single named member of the cast is a murderer, and the man behind everything judges himself God for the sake of an experiment. It shows Zack murdering people in flashbacks and enjoying every single minute of it. In fact, the biggest plot twist is that the apparently innocent Rachel is probably the most dangerous murderer of them, the moment when she tries to kill Zack in her floor was a moment that actually got me on the edge of my seat (said event was properly foreshadowed).

When I say all characters of AoD are well-written, I say this in a "technical" sense - given their backstories, they act in a way consistent to what they are. Zack had a really crappy childhood and turned into a murderer; Danny was bullied and indirectly caused his mother's suicide; Cathy is subconsciously guided by a desire to punish sinners that caused her parents' death; Eddie was rejected so hard that he saw killing what he liked as the only way to preserve; and Rachel also had a crappy childhood, but parents who hated each other and killing her father in self-defense just broke her, her emotionless insanity is what guides her death wish (funnily enough, it doesn't seem that Gray has anything but a god complex). In other words, while they might be nearly a caricature, they still show to act on motives that make sense for them.

The question that guides the series is "what does it mean to be human?" In the end, we all want to avoid loneliness, as Gray says to Danny while the building explodes. Danny had a really pathetic death - he was a "love to hate" villain, even if he had a childhood excuse, nowhere implies that we should sympathize with him, on the contrary, he's one of the creepiest waste of air type of characters - if we showed his portrait in the game, one could put a sub "Most Likely to be a Pedophile").

But then I decided to read the prequel manga. I hated it. A lot. The characters are nothing but violent dicks to each other, in a grand scheme to get the role of "angel" in Gray's experiment (I used to muse Dr. Danny in my RP blog, it was fun to protray him as a pathetic peepermaniac, but I lost my drive after it). It doesn't try to be nuanced or anything else, but I guess if the objective was to remind us that the characters were murderous scum, it succeeded. The effect was so bad on me, that made me question the entire point of AoD itself.

I thought about this for a while. In Aod, we're basically siding with two murderers and Zack's popularity is immense, he's a Chad of murderers. The question is why?

It would be easy to dismiss his popularity as an example of the "bad boy fantasy", mostly associated with women who latches on a "bad boy" type in hopes of "fixing him", but that alone is insufficient to explain (and although it's usually recognized as a 'feminine fantasy', I want to avoid any implication of sexism, even though I don’t doubt this has been discussed in woman’s studies).

At point a friend of mine linked me Explanation Point's video on Happy Sugar Life. Why is Satou, a murderer and near pedophile (near pedophile because she doesn't engage in actual sexual activities with Shio, but it's not less disturbing), a sympathetic character? I won't recap the entire video here, but Satou is sympathetic because of many factors, such as the fact almost everyone around her is worse (arrogant rapist manager, sadomasochist actual ebebophile Danny's long lost brother, lolicon, an actual succubus in human form, obssessed copycat stalker, mad artist - the only developed characters that save themselves are Shoko and Asahi (and not 100% in his case, his determination was his downfall) - I honestly dislike Shio because she's annoying), had a crappy childhood, and that she seems sincere in her feelings for Shio.

The issue, in the end, it's about the way it's framed. Lindsay Ellis has a pretty good video on framing, on explaining how Mikaela actually had potential to be a well-written character in the first Michael Bay’s Transformers movie, but it was ruined by the way she was framed - as mere fanservice, instead of a strong character. The same principle applies to Happy Sugar Life, just pay attention to the way Satou is framed, as a strong character, in “pure” love, flowers appears on the screen when she’s thinking of Shio.

Framing is one reason why HSL failed or, at least, lost a part of its power as a cautionary tale. In the last episode, the way her imagination exploded with images of what her happy life with Shio could be, sprinkled by sappy imagery. Even if Satou killed herself to save Shio as a way to defy her aunt, it still gives a mixed message.

If we apply EP’s argument on Satou to Zack, I think we have even better “case” for Zack. Let’s count the reasons why one should sympathize with Zack:

Antagonists (Danny and Cathy) are worse people

Strong and powerful, to the point of turning into a shonen protagonist when cutting rocks in the last episode

Has a code of honor, only kills people who are laughing

Has standards, refuses to accept godhood from Rachel

Enjoys what he does, he’s probably the most sincere character of the cast

Has a twisted sense of humor

Has a sad backstory, that offered the chance of following another path (but the old man died)

Recognizes he’s messed up

Ridiculously loyal to Ray in the end

We never get to see the PoV of his victims and when we do, the frame actually makes Zack sympathetic - for example, the woman in his flashback, we see her lying to him and him killing her for it - it’s a bad thing, but the scene is framed in a way that Zack is the offended party (it was his PoV anyway)

He’s hot - granted this only works for the anime, because in the game he was some sort of tall mummy gremlin

As another friend of mine said, when I brought this to her, in the end you’re kind of cheering for them to escape police and continue murdering others. And, in the end, they do get away - Zack (and Ray, to some extent) is never punished for his crimes, even though the ending is ambiguous most people believe they escaped anyway.

In HSL we have a similar situation: even though Satou killed herself, Shio is still irreparably damaged, preferring to live her “happy sugar life” in her head than the real world. In fact, HSL’s ending is one of the most hopeless that I’ve ever seen recently, that the entire surviving cast is apparently beyond repair (as worse as Shio worse is Taiyo - it’s quite rare to portray female on male abuse on such a realistic way, any other anime would make a semi-hentai scenario on him, but here, I wouldn’t be surprise if he died starving himself to death in his room). HSL’s ending managed to be much more hopeless than AoD’s ending.

But, returning to Zack, the way his story is framed makes him a sympathetic character. However, while I argue that Zack is a well-written character, he’s not a very realistic one for one simple reason: he’s too conspicuous to be a successful serial killer, he’s too loud and messy; actual serial killers are methodic people, they plan a lot to not leave clues. Meanwhile, Zack is dumb as a rock, which might add him being an escapist character another trait of him.

And that’s where the comparison with Ted Bundy enters. It might be a stretch comparing a fictional character with a real person, but I still think it has some merit. While I haven’t seen the Netflix series, I read the debate on whether it glorifies Bundy or not. Basically the way the series frames Bundy is an argument for the glorification, but the interview with the victims who escaped him and loved ones of his victims is an argument against it. But the fact remains that both have their fans.

If we criticize Bundy’s fans for not noticing how much of a pathetic and deranged person he actually was, why can’t we do the same for Zack’s fans? Well the fact that one is real and the other fictional might be one reason, and being fictional he acts as an outlet for our own frustrations and tendencies just as I discussed with my friend above, but I feel that alone is insufficient, there must be a further reason... but I can’t think of anything else. Otherwise an argument has the danger of turning into the fallacy “videogames make kids violent” sort of thing.

One thing that has to consider is that both AoD and HSL are psychological thriller/horror series. If Zack, Ray and Satou got caught, the shows would be lesser works of art, because one function of psychological horror is to challenge our perceptions of justice.

Horror challenges our perceptions of safety and we are used to the bad guys being punished in the end, it’s a safe assumption. Instead, in horror, the bad guys get away and might be sympathetic, making us sympathetic to their getaway. It’s horror in the sense our own safe perceptions of morality and justice are twisted upside down.

I could go on and approach the thorny question of whether AoD glorifies murderers and HSL glorifies yanderes with children, but this essay is already getting too big, so I leave it for another occasion.

#satsuriku no tenshi #happy sugar life #psychological horror #explanation point #more to the ted bundy debate

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that-shamrock-vibe · 6 years

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Superhero Spotlight: #SaveLucifer (Spoilers)

One of the biggest shocks of 2018 so far is the announcement made at the end of last week that Fox have cancelled Lucifer after 3 seasons. Not only was this a shock for fans but also to the cast including star Tom Ellis who started the #SaveLucifer campaign. So I thought I would offer my reasons as to why the cancellation is a mistake and also offer my suggestions to Fox for where they can take the show going forward.

Also as a disclaimer, this post will have spoilers for the entirety of the show so if you haven’t see the series finale of Lucifer, don’t read on.

Reasons to #SaveLucifer:

#1. Tom Ellis is Fantastic in the Role

Like many Brits who have watched this show, I knew of Tom Ellis in British TV roles prior to this such as EastEnders, Merlin and most notably Miranda. So prior to becoming the devil, he was diverse in both comedy and drama, however nothing to this level.

Lucifer as a character is charismatic, charming, hilarious and relatable as someone who is a genuinely honest person and essentially a fish out of water as of course he is used to either Heaven or Hell. All of that is obviously partly down to the writers but mostly down to Tom Ellis’ acting as he is almost unrecognizable in this role compared to those previously mentioned roles.

I think the difference is with roles like EastEnders and Miranda, he is playing the typical “nice guy” and with Merlin he was a stereotypical “arc villain”, but as Lucifer Morningstar, he is a fully-rounded, complex character and that, I feel, is why the show works at its core, because of Tom Ellis’ acting.

#2. A Different Type of Comic-Book TV Show

Believe it or not, Lucifer is based on DC Comics! Officially the Vertigo imprint of DC Comics but Lucifer Morningstar is a supporting character of The Sandman, who is a creation of Neil Gaiman. Now yes, Lucifer in the comics is blonde, Gothic and has different adventures to what he has in the show, but the very fact Lucifer is officially based on a comic-book property makes it a very different type of comic-book show compared to the likes of the Arrowverse shows or even the Marvel Netflix shows.

Because of this it is in a unique space of being a relief to both fans and non-fans of comic-book shows that may be finding the genre saturated at this point with the same type of show.

The only powers featured in Lucifer are divine powers which are either the effects of heavenly weapons or flight. Also the show is in that unique position of not needing special effects or powers because that isn’t what the primary focus of the series is.

#3. A Lovable Cast

Aside from Tom Ellis, this show has one of the best supporting cast in any show currently out there. I would list my MVPs but I do really like them all; I didn’t care much for Kevin Ranklin as Malcolm Graham in the first season but other than that I have loved watching all of these characters and obviously the acting is a huge part of that.

My two favourites aside from Tom Ellis are Lesley-Ann Brandt and Rachel Harris as both were just so compelling to watch whether with Mazikeen’s bad-ass nature or the journey of Linda discovering Lucifer’s true identity.

Also Scarlett Estevez who portrayed Dan and Chloe’s daughter Trix was fantastic, for a child actor (she was seven at the start of the series so by now she must be 9/10) to steal a fair few amount of scenes without diminishing the roles of the other actors is a gift, this girl I see a great future for if she pursues this as a career.

#4. Equality for Both Genders

There is a slight imbalance in genders as there has been one more female main cast member than male, but that’s not to say they push a feminist agenda or even make it about girl power like Supergirl. In fact the cast is very well-balanced both in terms of gender roles and ethnic diversity.

Also the victims and culprits every week or story have an equal mixture in both male and female showing that anyone can be a murder victim and anyone can be a murderer if given the right motive.

#5. Inventive and Creative Plots

So yes it is essentially a police drama with a divine twist but that is not to say that every episode has that formulaic “murderer of the week” angle, in fact while a lot of the cases are a simple murder investigation plot, the story around said plot is what becomes inventive and creative.

For example, in Season 2 there is one episode where Azrael’s blade is the murder weapon, Azrael’s blade is a divine weapon originally owned by the Angel of Death which forms the Flaming Sword when combined with a medallion and a key that Amenadiel always wears around his neck. In its debut episode, “The Sword of Death” is wielded by mere mortals which brings their inner anger to the surface and causes a mass stabathon.

This was inventive because it was the first and really only time that a weapon of the divine had been used by mortals without anyone aside from the divine realizing what the weapon was.

Which brings me on nicely to the series-long plot of Lucifer’s true identity, this was a very creative plot because...he was completely honest about who he was from the very first episode. Every opportunity Lucifer had to refer to himself as “the devil” he took it, even some random prostitute calling him “the devil” and him going “you have no idea”. The greatest part of this entire plot was that it took 3 seasons and 55 episodes for Chloe Dekker, who was the secondary protagonist and Lucifer’s main love interest, to finally realise that Lucifer was in fact the devil. How was this revealed? His devil face finally returned after a season-long arc of losing said face and Chloe finally saw it.

Honestly, and no disrespect to blondes, but Dekker is the definition of a stereotypical dumb blonde because while she was brilliant as a detective, the woman had literally every other episode with Lucifer telling her who he is and yet, a lot like Linda used to do, she compartmentalized that into Lucifer using metaphors.

It has been a fantastic long-running plot because, again, with traditional comic-book superhero shows it’s all about protecting the hero’s identity, like on Arrow this season, yet here Lucifer makes no secret as to who he is it’s just a question of no one actually believing him.

#6. Responsible for Bringing Tom Welling Back

This point was a personal bonus addition for me because I grew up in the noughties watching Smallville, which was the origins of Clark Kent becoming Superman, which starred Tom Welling in the main role of Clark Kent.

I was very happy when he was announced as a main character for the third season and hoped he would have a bigger role outside of just being Dekker and Dan’s lieutenant and fortunately he was. Not only was he the criminal known as the Sinnerman but also in a mid-season twist he was revealed to be Cain from the bible.

It has been great because to see Welling go from playing one of fiction’s greatest superheroes to supposedly the world’s first murderer shows a good range in acting from Welling despite the fact his two best-known TV roles are both with DC Comics.

Ideas for Future Seasons:

Alright so I have said why the series is so good, now I’m going to say why I think the series should come back with some suggestions for future plots.

#1. Introduce God

We’ve met Lucifer, we’ve met Amenadiel, we’ve met their mum who I am going to call Goddess and we’ve met one of their other siblings Uriel, but where the hell is God himself. i’ll admit that I am an Atheist/inactive pagan so believing in a higher power or deity for me only applies to the Greek/Roman/Egyptian mythologies but in a show that deals with angels and demons I do want to see the king of angels as I have seen the king of demons.

Introducing God I did always feel would be an endgame for the series of the build up he has had but even if they brought the series back for a final season just to give the fans a feel of closure then to bring in God for that final season would be a great idea.

#2. Crossover With Other DC Shows

Even though I know it is ending, I would really like Lucifer to crossover with the likes of Gotham because both shows have the same type of genre and both do not usually go so far into the comic-book genre that it becomes fantastical.

Failing that I would love Lucifer and Mazikeen to meet Constantine because Constantine is all about banishing demons and the next season of Legends of Tomorrow does seem to be a demon hunt so why not bring Mazikeen in for that?

#3. Crossover With Shadowhunters

This is a personal favoured choice of mine but again much like Constantine, the Shadowhunters are all about destroying demons and with that in mind I would to see a full on fight between Mazikeen and Isabelle. I also think both Lucifer and Dan’s egos vs. Jace and Alec’s egos would be a fun battle to witness within itself. Think Star-Lord and Thor in Avengers: Infinity War.

Now I know people are probably going to say “What are you talking about? Shadowhunters is on a completely different network to Fox!” Yes well because Fox has dumped Lucifer, it makes sense for it to be picked up by another network, now with Shadowhunters I think being broadcast on ABC in America (If I am wrong correct me please) but being broadcast by Netflix worldwide, it does make sense just to move Lucifer from Amazon to Netflix.

Also in regards to the different networks, the Supernatural boys just had a comic-book crossover with Scooby Doo, I think this is doable.

#4. Show Heaven

Quite simple for this one, we have seen Hell and purgatory but we have yet to actually see Heaven. Amenadiel took Charlotte to Heaven when she died in the penultimate episode but we never actually saw them go there, even just to have see them fly up towards it and see the golden gates or something would have at least maybe given us a tease for something potentially to come.

Also visiting Heaven would hopefully introduce God as I stated before but also allow for returning characters like Amenadiel and Charlotte but also, now that Chloe believes all this Heaven and Hell stuff, if Lucifer was to somehow take her there then she may be reunited with her dad which would make for a great dramatic and emotional scene.

#5. A War for the Earth

Alright so this one is kind of a follow-on from the last one but also a throwback to the very first episode. Right at the end of the first episode in a conversation between Lucifer and Amenadiel about how Lucifer defying both their father and Amenadiel would start a war, something Amenadiel was okay with.

Now while Amenadiel is currently on side with Lucifer, that doesn’t mean God will start a war either with Lucifer, Earth or Hell to get what he wants, and that could be the main story-arc of Season 4...a war either between Heaven and Hell or a War for the Earth. After all, god supposedly created the Earth so logically he can also destroy it.

This doesn’t even have to be a series-long war like Arrow has been known for, it can simply be a villain of the week or couple of weeks and then God interjected at random moments in the season until the big confrontation at the end. Wars don’t just have to be physical they can also be intellectual.

Overall I think I have made some rather good arguments as to why Lucifer is a fantastic show, why it should remain and what the potential storylines could be. There are still talks about the show trying to find a new home so hopefully we will see it back. #SaveLucifer

So that’s my Superhero Spotlight on the current state of Lucifer and the possibility of it going forward, what do you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Superhero and Supervillain Spotlights as well as other posts.

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mymindykim · 3 years

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How to Raise Financially Smart Kids

We all know some things are much easier to learn when we’re kids — other languages are a great example. One thing that is also easier to adopt as a kid is a financial literacy. Unfortunately, a good chunk of parents doesn’t do much to set their kids up for financial success.

A study performed by the University of Illinois found that a whopping 36% of young adults find themselves financially at risk.

You may be wondering how the researchers determined this. Getting into scientific detail would be beyond the scope of this article, but we can explain the study and its implications in simple terms.

The researchers sampled a pool of over 3,000 adults to assess their financial practices, understanding of basic economic concepts, and overall financial aptitude. To be deemed “financially at risk,” participants needed to fulfill two essential criteria: they had no savings they could use to pay three months of living expenses, and they had no way to come up with $2,000 in an emergency.

While some members of the scientific community have described these criteria as “somewhat arbitrary,” they are undoubtedly helpful when it comes to presenting the bigger picture — many young adults are a setback away from bankruptcy.

[Source: Unsplash]

1. Generational Ripple Effect

The 22% of young adults that the survey deemed “financially stable” had savings or checking accounts were less likely to use the services of payday lenders and were better at planning their finances overall. However, even most of these individuals only described themselves as “moderately comfortable” about their financial literacy.

The study’s lead author, Gaurav Sinha, believes that this issue may lead to further financial illiteracy in future generations. In an interview with Science Daily, he expressed concerns about young people’s inadequate financial skills and their ability to ensure both theirs and the well-being of their children.

2. How to Teach Your Children to Be Financially Stable

The findings of this study suggest a dire need for parents to become much more engaged in their children’s financial literacy at a much younger age. Our friends at MNYMSTRS financial literacy for beginners have presented us with three simple ways to set your kids up for financial success.

Let’s explore them together below!

Delayed Gratification

It seems that each new generation faces more difficulty when it comes to resisting the allure of instant gratification. Millennials have probably long thought that delaying gratification could not possibly be more difficult, but we would argue that Gen Z-ers have had even more distractions to deal with.

Since their early childhoods, almost everything they wanted has been instantly available. Want to listen to your favorite song? Just stream it on YouTube or Spotify. Need a new pair of headphones? Amazon Prime can deliver precisely the model you’re looking for on the same day. Are your friends talking about a new app or video game? Just press a button on your controller or tap your phone’s screen a few times, and it’s yours.

Whether it is physical possessions or digital entertainment, very little compels this generation to learn about the value of patience, persistence, and the power of time. It’s not their fault either — it’s just the hand they’ve been dealt.

Unfortunately, acquiring wealth is not a one-click sort of endeavor (at least not for the time being). If you want to reap the benefits of your investments, you need to sit back and wait for the stock (or crypto) market to do its thing.

It is your responsibility to teach your kids that not everything they want can be achieved instantly. Whenever possible, try to instill in them the value of delayed gratification. For example, if you have an allowance system in place, consider switching to monthly rather than weekly payments. This will teach them to pay attention and control how much money they have left until the next month rolls around. Just make sure not to budge when they inevitably come running for more cash after a week and a half.

If your kids are still too young to have an allowance or deal with money directly, have them plant their favorite fruit or vegetable, and observe the literal “fruits of their labors.” We don’t need to explain why this analogy directly applies to the world of finance.

Embrace Technology

You might have had the mildly unsettling experience of seeing a kid try to swipe up a magazine cover like it was a touchscreen. We’re living in a new world, and for today’s kids, it is all they’ve ever known. For them, there was never a time without ubiquitous WiFi, smartphones, apps, and social media.

In the previous few paragraphs, we might have sounded like we had some kind of problem with technology. On the contrary, we think it is an excellent opportunity to grow. We’ve all used technology to collaborate, create, buy, sell, make friends, learn, etc. The point we’re trying to make is that, for this generation, technology is almost inseparable from the “real world.”

So, if you’re trying to teach a kid about finances, your best bet is to incorporate some technology to keep them interested. Thankfully, we’re not the first to think of this, and there is a wide array of software tools and apps geared towards teaching children about finances — even kids as young as five.

Apps like iAllowance, Rooster Money and FamZoo let children keep track of their allowance and chores while teaching them financial skills through a wide array of gamified visual tools. If you want to sneak in financial education without boring your kids to death and force-feeding lessons, use the technology they’re comfortable with.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Incorporate Experiential Learning

Children nowadays have access to all the information they need, and they’ve had it from a very young age. Learning to sift through the information, figure out what’s important, and which sources can be trusted is the journey of a Gen Z-er.

Back in the day, when a kid had a question about the world, they would default to asking their parents; now, the situation is a bit different. Sure, parents do get asked a question from time to time, but only if Google has failed to provide a satisfactory answer,

However, one thing that Google can’t impart to your child is the real-life experience of managing finances. That said, if you simply sit your kid down for a lesson, they’re probably not going to be very interested in listening.

This is where experiential learning comes into play. If you want your kids to pay attention, take them with you the next time you visit your financial advisor or show them how to balance a checkbook or fill out a check.

Things like setting up your family budget for the month or reviewing the interest you’ve earned on your savings account may sound like tedious everyday activities to you, but to your kids, it’ll be like entering into a new reality.

These activities will set the scene for you to have the all-important financial conversation with your children, and if there’s one thing you can’t Google, it is a practical experience.

Closing Thoughts

Wouldn’t it be great if our educational system was more focused on teaching students how to be financially savvy? Unfortunately, at least for the time being, the burden of this responsibility lies with parents and caretakers.

However, this also means that if you can teach your kids how to be smarter with their money, they’ll likely have a leg up on their peers, putting them in a great spot down the road.

Most importantly, by teaching our kids how to be smarter with their money, we instill the right financial habits in them before they develop the wrong ones on their own.

About the Author

Ellie is a long-time marketer, currently working as a freelancer in Miami, Florida. She is also a passionate writer and loves to explore new, innovative and digital news.

In her spare time she is an eco-activist. Editor at Digital Strategy One.

The post How to Raise Financially Smart Kids first appeared on Reviewz'n'Tips. from Blogging Tips https://reviewzntips.com/how-to-raise-financially-smart-kids/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

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cuthian · 7 years

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In Hell, We Stand by You Chapter Seven

Hi! *waves*

I'm sorry for the delay, but as I said, most of this chapter needed to be rewritten to fit the storyline properly. I hope you guys enjoy! I am going home from Vienna tomorrow, which is a fifteen-hour busride, so I hope I'll be able to do most of the work that still needs to be done on chapter eight then!

In the mean time, enjoy the extra long chapter, and thank you for sticking with me!

Love, Annaelle

PS Much, much love to @juuls for putting up with me and beta'ing this monster! I couldn't do it without you, doll <3

Chapter Seven

—————

Passes to the opening gala for Kunst Halle Planie’s new exhibition, ‘die Altes Kunst des Mesopotamie’, sold out like hotcakes three hours after they had been made available to the public. It was Stuttgart’s most anticipated event, both by art history enthusiasts and historians alike, with planned guest speakers such a Dr. Heinrich Schäfer, who was instrumental in restoring some of the Mesopotamian artwork displayed, and Dr. Richard S. Ellis, who wrote extensively on the subject of Mesopotamian art and its archaeological impact.

…Once inside, however, the main attraction did not turn out to be, as expected, the artwork and the carefully planned speeches, but rather an as of yet unknown man who attacked Dr. Schäfer in the middle of the man’s speech. In a rather gruesome turn, Dr. Schäfer’s eye was gauged out and the man, who clearly displayed some sort of superhuman ability, subdued the frightened crowd.

…Our reporters were not at the scene, but eyewitnesses speak of blinding lights and the same man appearing before them in an outfit which would not have been out of place at a Renaissance fair. All seemed quite hopeless until one man stepped in…

Captain America himself.

There has been no confirmation whether this man was sent by the U.S. government or if the mantle of Captain America has finally been taken up by someone else after seventy years, but whoever he was, he did not seem to be a match for the unknown man until none other than Tony Stark’s Iron Man stepped in and the unknown man was taken into custody.

…Many unanswered questions yet remain, but one thing is certain, Kunst Halle Planie’s gala will not soon be forgotten.

—S. Auerbach, Der Spiegel, ‘Artful chaos at museum gala’

—————

S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, International Airspace Steve

Steve’s entire body was sore, and he felt like he could easily sleep an entire day away. He took great care to hide that exhaustion, eyeing the screen that showed Fury conversing with Loki.

The alien God’s smug disposition made Steve’s skin crawl and he had to actively fight the urge to yank at the tight uniform he’d been squeezed into, to rid himself of the proverbial box Loki had shoved him into with nothing more than a few careless words.

The soldier. A man out of time.

Steve hadn’t felt like he was a man out of time since the first few weeks after he’d been defrosted, before he’d moved in with Becca and before he’d started therapy.

He’d been doing good.

He hadn’t felt out of place in a long while, but Loki’s words had somehow shoved him right back in that destructive mindset, and he was struggling to pull himself out before he became compromised.

It was like Loki saw past all of the progress he’d made, past all of the carefully-erected barriers he had pulled up around the wounded remains of the man he used to be, the man he’d always wanted to be, and saw right into the core of who he actually was—who he had always been.

It was entirely unnerving.

He shifted his seat back a little and glanced towards Becca, who was chewing her lower lip and glaring at the tiny Loki on the screen as her hands curled into loose fists on the table. She was paler than she had been when they’d arrived and she looked about as exhausted as Steve felt. She had, thankfully, not been beaten up by a Norse God, so far, so Steve considered that a win.

He could tell she was still worried though, her concern for Clint outweighing her rational thinking. Coulson and three other agents had been forced to hold her back when they escorted Loki to his cell.

Steve couldn’t blame her.

He’d probably try to beat answers out of Loki too, if he thought it would actually help save lives.

They’d only been on this mission for less than twelve hours, but Steve already felt like several weeks’ worth of events had taken place, shattering the little bubble of peace he had created for himself.

Lord, he was tired.

The monitor went black and it almost felt like some of the tension lodged between Steve’s shoulders dissipated along with the image of the dark-haired God, although the atmosphere at the table remained tense. They had all been taken aback by Loki’s easy surrender in Stuttgart and Thor’s sudden appearance midflight, and it showed on the faces around the table.

Becca’s sharp focus on Loki notwithstanding, even Agent Hill, who Steve had actually met once on a run, unaware of who she was—he’d done an actual double-take when he’d been introduced to her on the bridge—looked like she was trying to solve an intricate, complicated riddle, tapping at the screen of her tablet impatiently.

Romanoff almost looked indifferent, but Steve spotted her fingers twitching against her upper arm a few times, almost like she wanted to reach out and punch Loki as much as the rest of them did.

Thor looked most disturbed by the conversation and was frowning something fierce, and Steve wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about this other God. Coulson had sworn up and down that Thor was to be trusted, that he had already proven himself an ally to earth, but Steve was still doubtful.

There was something about the taller man that unnerved Steve entirely.

Something that had made his mouth go dry the moment he had actually gotten a chance to look at the new, possibly slightly less homicidal, Asgardian arrival. Something that made his heart pound in his chest so loudly he was almost sure Thor would have been able to hear it when he shook Steve’s hand. It was something Steve hadn’t felt since before he had been forced to watch the love of his life fall off a cliff when Steve failed to save him.

He’d found his eyes lingering on the other man’s—admittedly incredibly impressive—biceps for just a beat too long, and it made him feel nauseous. He didn’t want to feel attracted to anyone but Bucky.

“He really grows on you, doesn’t he?” Dr. Banner drawled sardonically, stalking away from the monitor with jerked, short movements, drawing Steve’s attention back to him. The doctor had been relatively quiet up to this point, and Steve had to admit the doctor’s levelheaded temperament surprised him greatly, after everything he had heard so far.

“Yeah,” Becca snorted beside him, kicking up her foot to rest against the back of Steve’s armrest. “Like a fucking fungus.”

Steve’s lips curled up into an involuntary smile before he forced himself to focus on the problem at hand. He sighed and looked up at Thor, who still stood at the head of the table, hands clenching into fists uselessly. “He’s gonna try to drag this out, isn’t he?” He waited until Thor’s eyes met his and shook his head a little. “What’s his play, Thor?”

Everyone collectively turned from the screen to look at the tall, exceptionally handsome—and Lord, he needed to get his head back in the game, because this was not the time—God of Thunder.

“It seems he has procured an army, called the Chitauri,” Thor finally spoke with a heavy sigh, his tone grave as he crossed his arms across his chest. “They’re not of Asgard or any world known. From what we understand, he means to lead them against your people.” There was a note of sorrow to his words, something deep and painful that made Steve feel a little queasy. “They are to win Earth for him,” Thor continued, shaking his head sadly. “In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.”

“An army…” Steve sighed and leaned back in his seat. “How do you know about this? You said, earlier… you said you thought he was dead for over a year.”

Everyone at the table froze, and Becca’s foot dropped back to the floor with an audible thump. Steve could tell everyone was surprised that he questioned the man further, but he’d learned a long time never to take information at face value.

Not checking someone’s motivation for volunteering information could get him and the others killed—it had gotten others killed in the past, during… before.

Thor, however, didn’t seem at all put out by Steve’s insistence on questioning him further—he seemed pretty damn delighted—and beamed a bright grin at Steve. “A most astute observation, Captain.” He sobered quickly, fingers twitching towards his neck in an aborted gesture Steve recognized all too well before he spoke again. “I believed my brother dead for… too long. My mother...”

He took a deep, shuddering breath and smiled weakly. “Our mother and Loki share a connection I cannot understand. She knew he was alive, and it was she who uncovered his plot. Father and Heimdall sent me here as soon as we realised he had already begun his assault on Earth.”

Thor kept his gaze on Steve as he spoke, his tone even other than the moments his breath hitched in clear emotional distress. Steve appreciated the God’s candor, and though he could tell the man was being truthful, there was something he wasn’t telling them too. The look in Thor’s eye was one Steve recognized, though, and he was loathe to push someone to open up about their grief.

He couldn’t imagine finding himself in Thor’s shoes.

Slowly, he leaned back in his seat and offered the other man a tight smile. “Okay. So, an army?”

“From outer space, no less,” Becca piped up beside him, and Steve could see her leaning forward eagerly from the corner of his eye. “How is he doing that?”

The discussion rapidly devolved into a series of back and forths with scientific terms that flew right over his head, but the implication sank in nonetheless. If Loki managed to get the things that he needed to open the portal, he would be able to bring an army of monsters to Earth to destroy and take over everything Steve had fought for—everything he was still learning and growing to love.

The nausea he’d felt earlier welled back up again at the thought of Becky’s cozy little home being torn apart by monsters, of his family—the little he had left—being taken from him…

Was he destined to lose everything he cared about twice?

Because of one man’s delusions of grandeur?

Eighty people were already dead, and Loki had only been on earth for two days.

Imagining the amount of havoc he could wreak with an entire army backing him up and unlimited time in their world was downright terrifying.

He was abruptly drawn from his thoughts when Tony Stark flounced inside, immediately engaging Dr. Banner before Becca dropped the thin veneer of professionalism and launched herself off her seat and into the dark-haired man’s arms with a sound that Steve could only describe as a squeal.

The sight of the genius stumbling back a step or two, arms sticking straight ahead for a few seconds before he folded them around Becca and patted her back lightly was nothing short of comical.

Steve had heard a few things about Tony from Becca over the weeks they’d lived together, and though they may not have gotten off to the best start in Stuttgart, it was easy to see the open affection on the billionaire’s face at Becca’s enthusiasm, even if the hug itself seemed to make him slightly uncomfortable. “Hey kiddo,” Stark said quietly—so quietly Steve doubted anyone but Becca and Steve himself had heard him—as he pushed her off gently.

“Is that your gear for the field—this… this isn’t even bulletproof,” he tugged on the strap of Becca’s vest with a sneer, shaking his head decisively. “Becs, that won’t do. I can do better. You need to come by the Tower, I’ll make you something better. You need new toys, and Aunt Peggy would kill me if I let something happen to her favorite godchild.”

Steve narrowly suppressed the urge to chuckle at the downright offended look on Agent Coulson’s face, but the casual mention of Peggy made his heart clench and drew his attention away again.

He knew she was alive.

It was one of the first things Becky had told him when he’d emerged from his self-imposed exile again.

He hadn’t seen her. She lived in England, and though he had heard Becca talk to her on the phone several times, he’d declined every time she offered to let him speak to her as well. He didn’t think… he didn’t think he could handle hearing Peggy’s voice, cracked with age, so unlike the vibrant young woman she still was in his mind.

He’d seen her only a few months ago—seen her as a beautiful twenty-four year-old woman. He didn’t think he could handle seeing her as a ninety-three year-old yet.

He watched, feeling slightly detached from the entire situation, as Stark patted Thor’s massive bicep with slightly widened eyes—and Steve felt an odd sense of vindication to know he wasn’t the only one affected by the god's… exceptional appearance—before moving on to tap at every screen he passed, blathering on about something or the other before calling out a S.H.I.E.L.D. tech for playing…

Steve honestly didn’t know what the young man was supposedly playing, and he didn’t really care.

He glanced down at his tablet and tried to make sense of the scientific notes Becca had sent to him, but they went way over his head, again. He’d tried not to feel out of his depth before, but after facing Loki and getting his ass handed to him, after nearly being electrocuted by Thor and after hearing the kind of science Dr. Banner and Stark talked about like they were simply discussing their favorite TV show…

He glanced around the table surreptitiously, eyeing the spies, the agents, the god, the geniuses, and he wondered where the hell he came in.

He looked down at his tablet again and sighed.

What the hell was he doing here?

—————

Steve

He’d sequestered himself in an abandoned little corner of the Helicarrier as soon as he could reasonably excuse himself, his hands trembling by the time he’d managed to find the privacy he’d been desperately craving.

Before he’d been able to escape the frenzied melee of the bridge, a bright-eyed, fresh-faced S.H.I.E.L.D. agent had appeared before him, stuttering and blushing as they offered him a small moleskin notebook full of their favorite movies, books, TV shows and music.

“Suggestions,” they’d said with bright red cheeks. “For things to try in the 21st century.”

It had been a gesture of kindness, Steve was sure, but after Loki’s words, the little black book served only as a further reminder that he wasn’t home. He didn’t belong here, in this century, and he hadn’t felt that this keenly since the first day after he’d been… woken up.

He had smiled, though, and taken the notebook with forced cheer, words of thanks falling from his lips without much thought or sincerity behind them, before he’d been able to slip away.

The little nook he’d found was not too far from where the prisoner—Loki—was being held, so he’d be available right away if there was any kind of emergency, but isolated enough that he wouldn’t be disturbed until he was good and ready to face another person.

He’d initially planned to stick to his intended path, deeper into the bowels of the Helicarrier, but he’d been sidetracked by the raised voices by the door where Loki was being held. He’d intended to go inside, to see why someone was stupid enough to provoke the very dangerous, very volatile prisoner, but had backed off almost immediately when he recognized Thor’s voice and hid in his easily-overlooked alcove around the corner.

He may not have been privy to their family issues, but he understood enough to realise that if anyone would be able to get what they needed from the Trickster, it would be Thor.

“Please—be—think—Loki!”

Even with his enhanced hearing, Steve could barely make out Thor’s impassioned words, and with some difficulty, he managed to draw his attention back to himself, his breath punching out of his lungs in a quick, sharp exhale when he realized his trembling fingers had taken the pencil and paper in his hands as permission to begin sketching again.

Bucky’s eyes—a messy, slightly skewed rendition—stared up at him from the page of the little notebook, and Steve suddenly felt lightheaded, small and weak like he hadn’t felt in years.

“Was this what it was like?” he whispered to the doodle of Bucky’s eyes, helpless tears burning in his eyes. “Was this what you felt like when I got the serum?” He knew Bucky had struggled with reconciling the idea of his skinny little fella back in Brooklyn with the tall, muscled soldier that had pulled him out of the factory in Azzano at first; that the protective instinct Bucky had nursed for nearly a decade and a half had been difficult to shake—if not impossible.

He’d told Steve, once, that it was ridiculous, trying to wrap his head around Steve being stronger than him when he’d been able to pick Steve up with one arm for most of their life together.

Steve had never really understood the feeling.

Until now.

He’d always been the strongest in whatever fight he picked after he’d received the serum.

He hadn’t been outmatched by anyone since 1944, and he couldn’t quite wrap his head around being so entirely out of his league when it came to Loki—and Thor, by extension.

The god had tossed him around like a damn ragdoll.

He was so ridiculously out of his league it was almost laughable.

When he looked down at the little notebook again, he realized he had doodled a fairly accurate depiction of Bucky’s face, down to the slightest hint of the pout of his lower lip which Steve had always been powerless to resist. “Lord, I miss you,” Steve breathed, trailing his fingers across the sharp line of Bucky’s jaw. “I’m outta my league, Buck. I don’t know what to do.”

His drawing of Bucky, of course, didn’t reply, nor did it give him any sudden insights.

He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, eyes slipping shut as he took a few deep breaths to steady himself, as Karen-the-therapist had taught him to do when he felt overwhelmed.

Before he could properly steady himself, though, the door to the room Loki was being held in slammed open, banging against the metal wall with such an almighty bang! it made Steve jump, hitting his head against the top of the little alcove hard.

“Damn it!” he cried out, dropping the notebook and pencil as he fell back, cradling his sore head in his hands with tears of shock burning in his eyes.

“Captain!”

Through blurred eyes he watched as a large, blond blob with Thor’s voice hurried towards him, settling on his knees before Steve. “I did not mean to startle you. I apologize. I hope you did not injure yourself severely?” The words were phrased as a question, but Steve could feel Thor’s fingers gently push his own aside to search for injuries along his scalp.

He diligently ignored how good it felt to be touched with tenderness by someone other than Becca or Becky—something Karen-the-therapist had pointed out he might benefit from.

“I’m fine,” he told Thor slightly sourly, closing his fingers around the god’s thick wrists and pulling them down. “It’ll barely leave a lump.”

Thor sat back and smiled brightly, nodding happily. “Excellent. I shall not detain you any longer, then.” The taller man made to get to his feet, likely to leave Steve to his solitude and his increasingly loud thoughts, and suddenly Steve couldn’t stand the idea of being alone anymore.

“Wait,” he blurted, hand shooting out to curl his fingers around Thor’s wrist again. “I heard you…” He nodded towards Loki’s cell sheepishly and smiled tightly when Thor looked at him with wide, alarmed eyes. “I ain’t no snitch,” he said quickly. “I doubt S.H.I.E.L.D. has any business putting their noses in the mess between you and him, but…”

He bit his lip and shrugged. “I get what it’s like to be… the odd man out. If you needed someone to talk to, without judgement...” His cheeks burned and he was almost afraid to look up at Thor, but he did so anyway, because Sarah Rogers didn’t raise no coward. “I’m willing to listen.”

He wasn’t sure why he’d extended the invitation—he hardly felt like good company at the moment—but he was pretty sure Thor wouldn’t care all too much.

Something told him that the man would have very few preconceptions about Steve, and that if he did wish for Steve’s company, he’d want it because he liked Steve Rogers, not Captain America.

It was a refreshing change.

Even with the Barneses, there was a certain amount of expectation, a certain image he had to live up to, regardless of how many times they’d tried to tell him he didn’t—

He was so tired of trying to be several versions of himself.

Thor was silent for a few moments longer before he nodded, settling himself cross-legged on the floor before Steve. “Much appreciated, Captain.” He reached out and retrieved the notebook and pencil from where they’d landed when Steve had dropped them, eyes lingering on the sketch of Bucky before he handed it back to Steve with a sad smile.

“Your fallen mate, I take it?” Thor asked with a gentleness that belied the directness of the question.

Steve nodded jerkily, dragging his fingers across Bucky’s likeness one more time before he snapped the book shut and refocused his attention on Thor. “It’s been a long time.”

“Not, I think, for you.” Thor said softly, patting his hand on top of Steve’s, the sadness in his eye reflecting and mirroring Steve’s own. From what Steve had gathered, Thor’s own loss was felt as keenly as Steve’s, even if his brother was still alive and breathing on the other end of the door.

“No,” Steve admitted quietly. “Not for me.”

Thor nodded in understanding and sighed heavily. “It is, sadly, a feeling I know too well.” He glanced over his shoulder, in Loki’s general direction before he continued. “I mourned my brother for a year before I learned he lived, but now… You must understand.” He leaned forward and looked at Steve pleadingly. “I have spent over a thousand years with Loki by my side. I know him better than he knows himself—I knew of his jealousy, his hurt, his designs on the throne, and I failed to take them seriously… but I have never seen him like… like this.”

Thor waved one large hand in the Trickster’s general direction before dropping it again.

“Loki has always been many things,” Thor sighed, “but he has never been a cold-blooded killer.”

Steve opened his mouth, though he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, but Thor interrupted him before he could speak, a look that was disturbingly human and relatable flashing across the god’s features before vanishing entirely. “I know, I’ve been told of his various misdeeds in the past two days, but he is not like himself. Something is odd about my brother, and I do not know what it is.”

Steve fell silent, unsure of what to say to that.

He knew, intimately, what it felt like to have the most important person in the world to you ripped away, and it wasn’t a feeling he wished on anyone.

“Have you raised your concerns with Fury?” he asked, instead of questioning Thor’s judgement, because Steve was pretty sure he wouldn’t listen to anyone if they tried to tell him Bucky was evil either. Thor had spent the better part of a millennium with Loki—who the hell was Steve, a stranger who hadn’t even lived three decades, to tell him he was wrong about the man?

Thor frowned impressively and nodded. “He insisted my judgement was awry, but I am not some young whelp. Despite my faults, I know him. I snuck in to speak to my brother myself, to convince him to undo this madness, but it is as though it has mingled with his blood and burned itself into his bones. I do not know what madness grasps my brother, but I know it is not his doing. Not entirely.”

Frustration towards Fury boiled to the surface of Steve’s mind again, and his hands curled into fists before he calmed himself. He didn’t need to trust Fury to help the rest of the team get the Tesseract back and ensure it fell into the right hands. He certainly didn’t need Fury’s opinion to listen to Thor and believe the other man.

He reached out and clasped Thor’s forearm, squeezing his fingers lightly. “You don’t need to convince me. It’s like you said: we don’t know Loki, you do, even when he is… whatever he is right now. What do you need me to do?”

Thor’s forehead creased into a frown and he shook his head dejectedly. “I do not know,” he said honestly. “I feel I am at a disadvantage in this world. I do not know enough of Midgardian customs to deduce my next move.” It was an unreal sight, the tall Asgardian, who was bigger than Steve, hunching in on himself as he tried to think of a way to end a war before it had well and truly begun.

Steve bit his lip and frowned when he remembered his earlier conversation with Dr. Banner and Stark.

“Well,” he drawled. “I might have an idea on where to begin.”

—————

Steve

He hadn’t been this angry, this fueled with unbridled rage since he had woken up, and he had almost forgotten how it made his skin crawl and his entire body itch for a fight.

Hydra weapons.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had been messing around with Hydra weapons and using the cube to make more.

The automatic rifle was heavy in his hand and his mind was spinning with the implications of what he had found, of what Tony Stark had implied, and he had no idea who to trust anymore. He tried not to think about whether Becca had known what S.H.I.E.L.D. had been doing, tried not to think about if she’d deliberately been keeping it from him, because he liked Becca, and he wanted to trust her more than anything—but he had only known her for a few weeks, hadn’t he?

For all he knew, everything she’d done for him, everything that had happened since she’d ‘taken’ him from S.H.I.E.L.D. custody, could have been planned to make sure he’d trust her.

They could have used Becky to make him trust them.

He couldn’t—couldn’t—consider the possibility she was in on it, too. Becky had been his and Bucky’s favorite girl when they’d been kids. She was their little sister, and Steve can’t imagine that that sweet girl—woman—would agree to do something like this to him.

He just couldn’t.

He rounded the corner, hardly waiting to see if Thor was still following him, and stomped into the lab without slowing down, not even a little bit fazed at finding Fury arguing with Stark and Banner.

“What is Phase Two?” Stark asked, head tilted to the side as he looked at Fury.

Steve dropped the assault rifle on the table with a loud clang, making sure every eye in the room was on him as he seethed, “Phase Two is S.H.I.E.L.D. uses the cube to make weapons and ignores Thor when he says there’s more going on here.”

The god trailed up behind him, silent support, but Steve didn’t have to look to know he’d be frowning at Fury. Thor had been mostly silent after they’d uncovered the crate of weapons, but Steve had made sure he understood the implications of what they’d found.

He couldn’t fucking believe this.

Stark’s eyes were wide as he glanced between Steve and Thor intermittently, and Steve narrowly suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at him.

He’d never been that fond of Howard, regardless of the other man’s clear fondness of him—and Bucky, despite his sneering at their lack of higher education—and he wasn’t sure why he’d expected he’d feel so different about his son. Clearly the younger Stark hadn’t bothered to actually listen to Peggy and Howard when they spoke about him, rather than Captain America.

“Sorry,” he offered insincerely. “Computer was moving a little slow for me.”

He drew his eyes from Tony slowly and turned his attention to Fury, who was already moving towards him with placating words that did nothing to soothe the burning embers of Steve’s rage. “Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract. This does not mean we’re—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Nick,” Stark interrupted with a raised eyebrow as he swung the large computer screen around so they could see the blueprints it showed. “What were you lying?”

Steve scoffed at Fury and hooked his thumbs in the stupid belt on his stupid fucking suit. “I was wrong, Director. The world hasn’t changed a bit.” Before any of them could say more, Becca strode in, followed closely by Agent Romanoff, and Steve’s entire focus narrowed onto his roommate.

“Did you know about this?” he demanded angrily as he stepped towards her, gesturing towards the computer screen. “Were you keeping this from me?”

He felt momentarily guilty when Becca stumbled back a little, obviously taken aback by his hostile attitude. Her eyes—so much like Bucky’s, damn it—widened and she stared at the screen in confusion, eyes darting over the details lightning-quick, before turning back towards him with a determined expression. “No, of course not. What is this?”

“Rogers, Agent Barnes didn’t have the clearance—” Fury started, but Steve didn’t want to hear it, because nothing he’d been told seemed to be the truth, so why the hell would this be?

“Steve,” Becca tried, stepping towards him with her hands raised in a placating gesture and damn if it didn’t piss him off more.

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed, yanking his arm from her reach as he glared at her, ignoring the way she almost flinched back from him, no matter how it made him burn with guilt. “Is anything you told me true?” His mind was filled with memories of their conversations over the past three weeks, of the way he had confided in her, and he was horrified by the idea that Becca might have been following Fury’s orders all along.

“Hey, come on, Capsicle,” Stark jumped in, resting a hand on Becca’s shoulder to pull her back a little, almost as though Steve was the dangerous one.

He stepped forward again, angry words on the tip of his tongue when Agent Romanoff cut in, eyes on Dr. Banner, who stood tense and angry at the far end of the lab. “You wanna think about removing yourself from his environment, doctor?”

“I was in Calcutta,” Dr. Banner replied scathingly. “I was pretty well removed.”

Steve lost interest in their end of the conversation pretty swiftly, eyes drawn to where Becca stood with Tony, the billionaire’s hand still on her shoulder as they both stared at Banner and Agent Romanoff.

Steve wasn’t an idiot, contrary to popular belief, and while he may not always have been the brains behind the operations with the Howlies, he was no slacker, and he had not been blind to the way Stark had glared at him when Steve had turned to Becca earlier, when he had put his hand on her arm to check on her. Though Steve was still mystified by their interaction, he gathered it meant the billionaire cared about Becca, at least.

He wasn’t sure why that idea bothered him so much, now.

“The world’s filling up with people who can’t be matched,” Fury exclaimed exasperatedly, as though that was supposed to make his experimenting alright. “People that can’t be controlled.”

“Like you controlled the cube?” Steve hissed scathingly, ignoring the way the anger burning through his veins felt off, because he was just so done with the way S.H.I.E.L.D. was handling this whole damned thing, and he just wanted to be back at Becca’s old little apartment with the sagging couch and the computer she’d hooked up to the television so Steve could google Youtube videos easily.

He just didn’t want to be here.

“Nuclear deterrent,” Tony deadpanned, and much as Steve was inclined to hate the man based simply on his wealth, he agreed with him there—even if he still wasn’t entirely clear on what nuclear weapons were. “Cause that always calms everything right down.”

“Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?” Fury sniped, raising a single eyebrow at Tony.

Steve couldn’t help but sneer, despite his unvoiced agreement with the man from the moment before, “I’m sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep—”

“Wait, wait, hold up,” the older man started forward, waving his hands in an approximation of confusion that pissed Steve off more than anything else Stark had done so far. “How is this now about me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Steve mocked, turning towards the dark-haired man again. “Isn’t everything?”

Something close to satisfaction warmed him when Stark reeled back as though Steve had slapped him, but his mind felt clouded and he couldn’t quite remember why he wanted to piss Stark off so badly. He was just so fucking frustrated.

“Steve!”

He snapped his head to the side when Becca slapped his arm, something ugly in the back of his mind sneering at her confused expression. “Come on, that’s not fair.”

“Like you’ve been fair to me?” The words fell from his lips without his express permission and, in the back of his mind, he cringed at the hurt expression on her face—but he didn’t stop. “How do I know you’ve not been lying to me?”

Stark scoffed at him and wrapped his fingers around Becca’s wrist to pull her back towards him. “Ignore Golden Boy, Becca,” he sneered. “Clearly he needs to get laid more. Too uptight.”

“Tony!” Both Becca and Dr. Banner turned to glare at Stark, but Steve didn’t care, because that rich son-of-a-bitch just kept pushing every single button he had. “I swear to God, Stark,” he hissed, “one more stupid crack—”

“Threatening!” Stark shouted dramatically. “I feel threatened!”

The situation only devolved further, and Steve wasn’t even sure who he was arguing with anymore, only that every single person in the room was pissing him off so much that he had to restrain himself from punching all of them through the goddamned wall.

Agent Romanoff’s clear, seemingly unaffected voice pierced through the haze of anger that clouded his mind, and he turned towards her subconsciously, even as she addressed Dr. Banner.

“You need to step away,” she enunciated slowly, eyeing Dr. Banner meaningfully, and though he was still angry, he couldn’t disagree with her logic. The last thing they needed was the fucking Hulk tearing through the air… ship… whatever.

“Why shouldn’t the guy blow off a little steam?” Steve’s blood nearly boiled when Stark tossed an arm around him in a gesture that was too reminiscent of the way Bucky used to before he’d drag Steve in for a playful kiss, before—

“You know damn well why,” Steve snapped, shoving Stark back a little harder than he intended to, but damn it he didn’t want anyone else to fucking put their hands on him like that. “Back off!”

The rest of the room faded a little bit when Stark swaggered back towards him, stepping right up into Steve’s personal space—and Steve was completely taken aback to realise that Stark was not… unfortunate looking. “Oh, I’m starting to want you to make me,” Stark shot back challengingly.

Steve’s heart pounded, and he couldn’t suppress the thoughts of his fights with Bucky, of the way his best guy had been able to make him burn with anger as well as desire, and of the way this—this—felt frighteningly familiar.

It pissed him off beyond anything he could even comprehend.

“Big man in a suit of armor,” he hissed, frightened by how much Stark was able to rile him up. “What are you when you take that off?”

Stark scoffed, but his reply came so swiftly Steve almost believed him capable of reading Steve’s mind and fucking preparing for his question before he’d even spoken it aloud. “Genius, philanthropist, reformed playboy, billionaire,” the other man finished smugly, and it pissed him off.

What—did Stark honestly believe that having money made him better than everyone else?

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you,” he spit, the faces of the Howlies stuck in the forefront of his mind, the way they’d all had a little too much experience with being barely able to scrape up enough money to get by, to feed themselves and their families.

Howard had been just like this.

More money than God and tossing it around like it meant nothing.

Like the five dollars Bucky had worked himself to the bone for, to pay for Steve’s medicine, were worthless. Like it meant nothing, when it meant everything.

Of course his kid would end up the same.

“Steve, come on, that’s not fair,” Becca piped up, pushing past Stark and pressing her hand against his chest almost like she was trying to hold him back from—from what? Telling Stark the fucking truth for once in his stupid, spoiled existence? “You don’t know Tony, he’s—”

“Please.” He shoved her aside—slightly more gently than he would with anyone else, he wasn’t that much of an asshole—and glared at Stark. “I’ve seen the footage, I read the file. The only thing you fight for is yourself. You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play—to lay down on the wire and let the other guy crawl over you.”

He’d seen situations like that all too often in the war, had seen friends shove others out of the way and save their lives at the cost of their own—he’d lost Bucky because the other man had taken up the shield to defend Steve when he was down…

Every single one of those men and women, who risked their lives, who gave their lives to save others…

They were the heroes to Steve.

Not the fucking billionaire in an iron suit.

Stark, however, didn’t seem too perturbed and shrugged. “I think I’d just cut the wire.”

He had, as Steve expected, entirely missed Steve’s point. “Always a way out, isn’t there?” Steve smiled wryly, shaking his head. He didn’t really know why he’d hoped Tony would prove to be smarter than his father had been in that department. “You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero.”

He almost expected Becca to butt in again, but when he looked to the side, she’d been caught up in a fierce argument with Agent Romanoff, and before he could determine what they were talking about, Tony pushed forward into his space and poked at his chest angrily.

“A hero? Like you?” Stark scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You’re a fucking lab rat, Rogers. Everything special about you came from a bottle.”

Steve reeled back, struck by Stark’s words more than he wanted to admit—it hit right on the old insecurities he’d been wrestling with his entire life that doubled after the serum and, somehow, people liked him; Steve never stopped wondering how many of the people he met, how many of the friends he’d made would’ve been his friends if they’d met him when he was still scrawny and sickly—but Stark just pushed on, a glint in his eye telling Steve the other man knew exactly how much those words hit home for Steve.

“Too bad the bottle came from a Stark, too, isn’t it?” Steve’s mouth opened, but no words fell from his lips, and Stark just smirked at him. “Can’t even pick your own girl.” Steve’s eyes went wide as Tony gestured towards Becca with a careless gesture. “Had to run with my sloppy seconds there, too.”

Steve wasn’t sure if it was the implication that he was sleeping with Becca—something the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed to have convinced themselves of—or the callous way Stark spoke of her, but his hands had curled into fists and he’d taken a step towards the shorter man before he could stop himself, halted only when Thor reached out and curled his hand around Steve’s bicep.

Too late, Steve realized the others had fallen silent, too, and he turned to find Becca staring at Tony with wide, horrified eyes. “Tony,” she breathed, hurt and anger both evident in her tone, and Steve was baffled to see Stark look as though he, too, had been surprised and a little appalled by his own words—but he didn’t move to take them back.

“Put on the suit,” Steve hissed, the look of utter hurt and betrayal on Becca’s face making him ache somewhere deep inside his chest as the argument around them slowly resumed, the fiery anger he’d been feeling since he’d found the weapons rearing back up. “Let’s go a few rounds.”

He glared at Stark, puffing up his chest a little, because he would not fucking let this jumped up asshole win, damn it. He didn’t take his eyes off of Tony’s—and a distant part of his mind noted that he’d never seen that shade of brown before, with just that hint of orange shining through—until Thor piped up behind them again and Stark looked away, rubbing at his eyes blearily.

Steve lost the thread of the conversation again when Becca tried to push past him, towards Tony. Before he could stop himself, he curled his fingers around her wrist to hold her back, because he’d seen, he’d seen how much Tony’s words had hurt her and, even though he was still pissed off to high fucking hell, he was reluctant to let her near the other man again.

“You can’t, I tried!”

The words pierced through their argumentative haze, and Steve’s head swiveled around to Banner, who stood by the scepter, sheepishness and anger warring for dominance in his expression. “I got low,” he continued when everyone stopped to stare at him. “I didn’t see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spit it out!”

Steve winced and tightened his grip on Becca’s wrist, because his anger was rapidly ebbing away and he remembered enough of Becca’s vague tales of her first few months after she’d been discharged from the Army to know she’d been that low, too, and that she’d tried that once.

He very definitively did not think of how low he had found himself after Bucky had died.

He hadn’t been suicidal, per se, but when the opportunity had come, he hadn’t fought to get away from it—crashing the Valkyrie had been a way out, too.

He understood.

Dr. Banner swallowed thickly before he continued, and Steve tensed a little when the other man’s hand crept towards the scepter, almost like Banner himself didn’t even realise what he was doing. “So I moved on. I focused on helping other people. I was good, until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk! You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay calm?”

Before Banner could step forward and do something he’d likely regret, Steve stepped forward, well aware that every single agent in the room had their hands on their guns. “Dr. Banner,” he began gently, raising a hand in what he hoped would be perceived as a peaceful gesture. “Put down the scepter.”

Before Banner could say anything or anyone could move, the computer beeped loudly, and both Stark and Banner immediately swerved towards it, eyes wide and intrigued. “Sorry, kids,” Banner said gruffly, setting down the scepter. “Guess you don’t get to see my little party trick after all.”

“Have you located the Tesseract?”

Fury sounded both exasperated and eager, and Steve finally released his grip on Becca’s wrist so they could move closer to look at the map splayed out across the monitor.

“I can get there faster,” Stark exclaimed after spending all of four seconds looking at the screen, spinning on his heel towards the door before Becca caught his arm.

“Tony, that’s really not—”

“Look, Stark,” Fury cut in almost simultaneously. “All of us—”

Stark just disregarded all of them and flounced towards the door, and Steve had been right, damn it, Stark was not a team player and he was only doing this to get the credit in the end. He grabbed at Stark’s arm, dragging the shorter man back with ease. “You’re not going alone, Stark.”

“You gonna stop me, Capsicle?”

Steve sneered at the man and pushed forward into Stark’s personal space again. “Put on the suit. We’ll find out,” he taunted.

“I’m not afraid to hit an old man,” Stark answered derisively, poking against Steve’s chest aggressively.

“Put. On. The. Suit.”

Before anyone could do anything else, there was an enormous explosion, rocking the Helicarrier sideways violently. Steve felt the heat of the fire burn on his skin, and windows shattered as smoke and fire blew out through the openings. Thousands of pieces of glass and steel rained down on them and alarms—shrill and deafening to Steve’s sensitive ears—erupted into shrill squeals, as though they wouldn’t be able to tell something bad had happened by the way the Helicarrier tilted alarmingly to the right now.

Steve struggled to his feet, doing his best to ignore the blaring alarms, and helped Becca up, concern aching in his chest when she looked at him, expression dazed and bleeding from a cut on her head.

There was a gaping crater in the middle of the floor, and neither Agent Romanoff nor Dr. Banner were anywhere in sight, though Stark was already stumbling back to his feet next to Steve, reaching for Becca in concern, too, as soon as he got his feet under him.

The others remained on the floor for a heartbeat longer, curled in a fetal position to protect their ears and vital organs as they tried to regain their bearings.

“Becca,” Steve wheezed, returning his attention to his roommate, ignoring Tony’s shaking hands pushing her hair from her forehead to look at where she was bleeding, shaking her shoulder a little to get her to focus her misty gaze on him. “Becca, are you okay?”

“Dizzy,” she replied fuzzily, but before either Steve or Stark could say anything, Fury pushed between him and Stark and shoved them from Becca’s side.

“Go. I’ve got her, Captain. Go help the others.”

He blinked at Fury slowly for a long few moments before he nodded, clumsily patting at Tony’s shoulder until he could draw the other man towards the door. “Put on the suit,” he ordered blearily, stumbling into Stark a few times as they tried to leave the room without falling over.

#In Hell We Stand By You #IHWSBY #stucky #stucky fanfic #my writing #lisa writes #fanfiction

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rosiep66 · 7 years

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"POLDARK" Series Two (2016) Episodes One to Four

"POLDARK" SERIES TWO (2016) EPISODES ONE TO FOUR Following my viewing of the 1975 series, "POLDARK" and its adaptation of Winston Graham's 1950 novel, "Jeremy Poldark: A Novel of Cornwall, 1790-1791", I decided to view Debbie Horsfield's recent adaptation of the same novel, spread out in four episodes during its second series. Needless to say, my experience with this adaptation of "Jeremy Poldark" proved to be a different kettle of fish. Series Two's first episode began a day or two after the final scene of Series One - namely Ross Poldark's arrest by the local militia for instigating a riot between his tenants/employees and the citizens of another town, who were salvaging the goods from a shipwrecked ship. The ship happened to belong to a noveau riche family named Warleggan and one of its members, one George Warleggan, went out of his way to ensure that the law would charge Ross with the crime. To make matters worse, Ross and his wife, Demelza Carne Poldark, had to endure the death of their only daughter from Putrid's Throat. At the beginning of the second series' Episode One, Ross faced one of his old nemesis, the Reverend Dr. Halse , in court in order for the latter to determine whether Ross would stand trial for his crime. Considering the two men's previous clashes, it was not surprising that Halse ordered Ross to stand trial during the next assize in Bodmin. Not only that - audiences were treated with an energetic scene between star Aidan Turner and former Poldark leading man, Robin Ellis. After Ross returned to his estate, Nampara, he set about getting his business in order. Meanwhile, Demelza tried to encourage him to seek help or patronage in order to ensure his acquittal. Being an incredibly stubborn and self-righteous ass, Ross refused. Demelza was forced to go behind his back to seek help from the judge assigned to his case and a wealthy neighbor named Ray Penvenen. Needless to say, Demelza failed to gather support from both men. Her cousin-in-law and Ross' former love, Elizabeth Chynoweth Poldark attempted to acquire George Warleggan's help by arranging a meeting between the men at her husband's estate, Trenwith. She also failed, due to Ross' unwillingness to speak to the latter. George's major henchman, Tankhard, managed to recruit Ross' former farmhand, Jud Paynter, to testify against Ross. Although Jud had intially agreed to testify, he changed his mind at the last minute, while on the stand. Due to a rousing pro-labor speech, Ross was acquitted by the end of Episode Two. During those first two episodes that focused on Ross' trial, other events occurred. His close friend, Dr. Dwight Enys met Ray Penvenen's flighty niece, Caroline Penvenen during the azzis and election in Bodmin and sparks flew between the pair . . . despite the latter's arrogant demand that he treat her pug. Francis, while in despair over estrangement from Ross, Verity and Elizabeth, attempted suicide in Bodmin and failed, due to a falty pistol. Elizabeth also appeared in Bodmin for the trial. Although she had appeared to support Ross, she and Francis ended up reconciling. Unfortunately, I was not pleased by this development. I wish Elizabeth had never forgiven Francis, since he had never bothered to offer any apology for five to six years of emotional abuse and the loss of his fortune and their son Geoffrey Charles' future. Unless I am mistaken, Elizabeth never really forgave Francis, despite his "new lease on life", following his suicide attempt. Good. I never thought he deserved it. I have read a few articles and reviews of the episodes that covered the adaptation of "Jeremy Poldark". While everyone else seemed impressed by the hullaballoo over Ross' trial, I felt more impressed by the third and fourth episodes. One, I was never that impressed by the trial storyline in the first place. Due to Ross' social standing as a member of the landed gentry, I suspected he would be acquitted, when I first read the novel. Unless he had committed murder (against someone from his own class) or treason against the Crown, I never really believed he would be convicted. If Ross had been a member of the working-class or middle-class, chances are his closing speech would have guaranteed conviction of the charges made against him. By the way, was that a closing speech? Or was that merely a speech inserted into Ross' own testimonial? I hope it was the latter, because he seemed to possess a barrister who barely said a word. And if I must be brutally honest, there was an aspect of the first two episodes - especially Episode Two - that I found disappointing. I had been more impressed by the 1975 adaptation of Ross' trial, due to its strong ability to recapture the atmosphere of an assize during the eighteenth century. I never sense that same level of atmosphere from this latest adaptation. Showrunner Debbie Horsfield seemed more intent upon creating tension over the possibility conviction. In a way, this seemed appropriate considering that the story should matter. But would it have hurt for Horsfield to add a little color or flavor in her portrayal of the Bodmin assize? For me it would have made up for my disinterest in Ross' trial. While many complained about the "dullness" of Episodes Three and Four, I found it interesting. Once Ross and Demelza dealt with his arrest and trial, they were forced to deal with the aftermath of their daughter Julia's death. While Demelza openly faced her grief, Ross finally got the chance to focus his attention on dealing with his possible financial ruin. But in doing so, he ended up emotionally distancing himself from his wife. It was easy to see that the honeymoon was over for Ross and Demelza. Like many couples in real life, they found it difficult to deal with a child's death, which they were forced to face after Ross' acquittal. And like many couples, their relationship suffered, due to their grief. Although Demelza had discovered she was pregnant, Ross made it clear that he was not ready to deal with another child before she could reveal her news. I have to commend both Aidan Turner and Eleanor Tomlinson in conveying the growing estrangement between Ross and Demelza with great skill and subtlety. And I suspect that they benefited from Debbie Horsfield's writing, who managed to capture this roadblock in the couple's relationship without turning it into an over-the-top ham fest. Both Episodes Three and Four also focused on Ross' financial problems. Many critics seemed uninterested in this turn of events. Apparently, they were more interested in watching Ross and Demelza behave like "the perfect couple". I was not bored. It was interesting to watch an upper-class landonwer deal with looming poverty without the benefit of securing the hand of an heiress. You know . . . like aspiring politician Unwin Trevaunance. And what many had failed to point out was that the Nampara Poldarks' financial situation was a result of Demelza's matchmaking efforts for Verity, Francis' resentment and anger, and George's malice. The die was cast in Series One's eighth episode and the consequences reared its ugly head in Series Two. Ross and Demelza were bound to face these consequences sooner or later. Worse, Ross found himself dealing with a vindictive George Warleggan, who was finally able to purchase enough shares to assume control over Wheal Leisure, Ross' mine. I never understood why Demelza had kept her fishing trips (to provide food for Nampara's larder) a secret from Ross. Personally, I thought she could have informed him that someone needed to fish to prevent them from starving, due to their money problems. If Ross had dismissed the idea, then I could have understood her need for secrecy. But knowing Ross, he probably would not have supported the fishing trips or bothered to find someone to provide fish for Nampara's inhabitants. He could be rather stubborn and proud. And I must admit that I did not care for how Debbie Horsfield changed the circumstances behind Demelza's last fishing trip. Instead of allowing her to reach shore on her own, while going into labor; Horsfield had an angry Ross come to her rescue and carry her ashore:

It looked like a scenario from a second-rate romance novel. And I found it a touch sexist. Ugh. Other matters threatened to endanger Ross and Demelza's marriage even further. One, Demelza seemed to have become the center of attraction for men like fellow landowner Sir Hugh Bodrugan, who has set his eyes on Demelza ever since the Warleggan ball back in Series One; and the Scottish-born militia officer, Captain McNeil, who happened to be one of Ross' former military comrades from the Revolutionary War. Mr. Poldark seemed unaware of Sir Hugh's attention, but did not seem particularly thrilled by Captain McNeill sniffing around his wife. Yet . . . he did nothing. Two, Ross gave permission to allow a smuggling ring led by a Mr. Trencomb to use the cove on his beach to store their stolen goods. Fearful that Ross might face arrest again and this time, prison, Demelza expressed her disapproval. However, she seemed relieved that Ross and Francis had finally made their peace following their estrangement over Verity Poldark's (Francis' sister) marriage to a former alcoholic sea captain in Episode Three, thanks to Elizabeth's machinations. In fact, she was more than happy to attend Francis' harvest ball at Trenwith. What she did not like was the conversation she had overheard between Ross and Elizabeth, later that evening. A part of me was fascinated by Ross' bold attempt to seduce Elizabeth. Especially since it featured some excellent acting from both Aidan Turner and Heida Reed. Another part of me felt disgusted by his actions. Ross had not merely flirted with his cousin-in-law. He made a strong effort to seduce her . . . after her husband had retired to his bedroom, upstairs. Fortunately, Elizabeth put a stop to his action before it could get any worse. Interesting consequences resulted from Ross' attempt at seduction. It finally led Demelza to reveal her pregnancy to Ross . . . who did not seem particularly thrilled. And although Demelza seemed willing to dismiss her husband's behavior, her cool attitude toward Elizabeth during their encounter in the woods seemed to hint that she seemed willing to place most of the blame on her cousin-in-law. In other words, Demelza seemed willing to use Elizabeth as a scapegoat for Ross' indiscretion. Or . . . perhaps Ross' attempt to seduce Elizabeth had simply increased Demelza's insecurity. After reading several articles on this story arc, I was . . . not particularly surprised that most fans and critics had ignored this little scene between the two cousins-in-law, especially since Demelza is such a popular character and Elizabeth is not. Many years have passed since I last read "Jeremy Poldark". But I do not recall such a scene in the novel. What made Horsfield add it? Was this the producer's attempt to portray Demelza in a more ambiguous light than she did in previous episodes? Or was this an attempt to set up Elizabeth as partially responsible for an upcoming event in a later episode? I have no idea. I am confused. Many fans seemed thrilled by the budding romance between Dr. Dwight Enys and heiress Caroline Penvenen. Personally, I found it rather interesting . . . and romantic in a way. Both Luke Norris and Gabriella Wilde seemed to have a strong screen chemistry. My problem with this relationship is that I am not a fan of Caroline. I never have been. I have the oddest feeling that although she may be in love with Dwight, she also regards him as something new or different that she wants to acquire . . . or collect. Her constant requests for his medical services and her assistance in acquiring oranges to help him deal with an outbreak of scurvy strikes me as seductive foreplay on her part and nothing else. However, the reunion between the Nampara and Trenwith Poldarks resulted in two positive consequences. Following the loss of Wheal Leisure, Ross recalled Mark Daniels' (one of the saga's two wife killers) claim of discovering copper inside his family's other mine, Wheal Grace and managed to convince Francis in investing in the mine. And the latter invested the six hundred pounds that he had received from George Warleggan for exposing the Carnmore Copper Company investors (the majority of whom were indebted to the Warleggan Bank), back in Series One. Speaking of Francis' six hundred pounds, I am confused about something. When George Warleggan learned about Francis' investment in Wheal Grace, he vindictively revealed to Ross how Francis had acquired the money in the first place. Naturally, Ross lost his temper and the pair engaged in a brawl. But I could have sworn that Ross had figured out Francis' betrayal of the company ever since he learned about Demelza's meddling in Verity's love life around the same time that Carnmore Copper Company had folded. The sequence from Episode Eight seemed to hint this. Unless I had misread it. Judging from Ross' reaction to George's revelation in Episode Four of this season, apparently I did. However, I need to re-watch that Series One sequence again. George's revelation of Francis' betrayal did give Ross the opportunity to manipulate the latter into finally accepting Verity's marriage to Andrew Blamey in a very clever scene that featured first-rate performances from both Kyle Soller and Aidan Turner. As for that brawl between Ross and George . . . the scene sizzled from Aidan Turner and Jack Farthing's performances. And many fans and critics cheered over Ross emerging victorious over his nemesis. However, I noticed that George made that victory difficult for Ross to achieve. I guess George's boxing lessons proved to be beneficial after all. Some have expressed confusion over why George went through so much trouble to bring down Ross. Perhaps these fans had forgotten Ross' rude and insulting response to George's genuine offer of condolences over young Julia's death near the end of Series One. Not only had Ross dismissed George's sympathetic overture, he also insulted the latter's cousin Matthew Stinson, who had drowned when the Warleggans' ship foundered. Apparently George never did. It was nice to see Ruby Bentall as Verity Poldark Blamey again . . . even though her presence in the production was diminished in compare to Series One. Verity served as a reminder of Francis' unwillingness to accept her marriage to the former alcoholic (and wife killer) Captain Andrew Blamey . . . which I can understand. Episode Three (or was it Four) featured a minor story arc that featured Verity's problems with her stepdaughter, Esther Blamey. I must admit that it was not that difficult to understand Esther's hostility. Her father had killed her mother in a fit of alcoholic rage (during an argument). Although he had served a few years in prison, he was released, managed to rebuild his profession as a sea captain and marry a woman from an upper-class family. If dear Esther was seething with inner rage over this series of events, I honestly could not blame her. However, her brother James, a midshipman in the Royal Navy, seemed more than willing to accept Verity. Oh well. I have one last topic to discuss . . . Jud Paynter. As many know, Jud was bribed by George Warleggan's minion, Tankard, to testify against Ross about the riot on the beach. Instead, Jud refrained from doing so once he had reached the stand. In retaliation, George hired a couple of thugs to give him a beating. Only they went too far and nearly beat Jud to death. I say nearly, because for some stupid reason, everyone from his wife Prudie to both Ross and Demelza believed that Jud had died. No one had bothered to check his body to see whether he was alive or not. I have liked this little story arc. Mind you, it revealed that Jud had taken money from George to testify against Ross. But the whole "poor Jud is dead" routine struck me as completely ridiculous and hard to believe. I alway enjoy Phil Davis' portrayal of Jud and even Beatie Edney gave a rather funny performance in this story arc as the "grieving" Prudie Paynter. But I still dislike this story arc. Yet, I am grateful that Horsfield did not allow it to stretch out over a long period of time, as the producers of the 1975-77 series did. Thank goodness for some miracles. I might as well be frank. I am not really a fan of Winston Graham's 1950 novel, "Jeremy Poldark: A Novel of Cornwall, 1790-1791". For me, it seemed like a transitional novel. It concluded the story arc that began with Ross' arrest for inciting a riot and it set up the Poldark/Warleggan family drama that eventually exploded in Graham's next novel. I realized that Debbie Horsfield and the cast did all they could to make this adaptation of "Jeremy Poldark" work. There were some scenes that I found interesting - especially in Episodes Three and Four. But I must be honest . . . I did not find it particularly captivating. How could I when the source material had failed to captivate me, as well?

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jordan202 · 8 years

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My Boys: Beneath the Surface - Chapter 2

Chapter one is HERE

Thank you @jia911 for proofreading this for me :)

My Boys – Beneath the Surface: Chapter 2

“Owen, you have to hurry up,” Amelia demanded, following her husband through the crowded ER. “We’re going to miss our flight!”

The trauma surgeon stopped walking when he reached the nurse station and put back a tablet with patient files at the same time he turned around to face his wife.

“I’ve been paging you for the last two hours saying I was ready. You never replied,” Owen reasoned, signing lab orders. “Now that I’m needed on a case you want to go?”

“I was stuck in surgery!” Amelia justified, once again hurrying to catch up with him. When she saw her husband was reaching out for another patient file, she took the object from his hands without ceremony. “Delegate it.” She commanded with her best bossy voice. “There’s a possibility of a tropical storm hitting the East Coast and it wouldn’t be surprising if the flights got cancelled when it does. We have to leave today.”

Owen let out a heavy sigh and knowing his wife was probably right, handed out the tablet to another ER attending. He quickly followed her through the corridors, checking his watch only to realize it was already noon. They had to hurry up or they would indeed end up missing the flight, with the risk of not being able to take another one.

Amidst picking up the kids, grabbing everyone’s bags and hurrying to the airport, Owen and Amelia made it on the clock. The flight time from Seattle to New York took about five and a half hours and with the time difference, it was nearly 9 in the evening when they finally landed at JFK Airport.

Exactly as Amelia had feared, the tropical storm predicted for the following day made its way a little too soon and while they were claiming their baggage and sorting out the rental for the cars they’d take to drive up to Connecticut, the reporters on the news started to warn citizens to avoid leaving their houses. It didn’t take long for several flights to be canceled or delayed, causing an intense agglomeration of people and when they were finally able to leave the airport to the cars with eight kids and all the bags, Amelia heard on the news that several of the main roads in the upstate area had been preventively closed.

“What are we going to do now?” She looked around the airport parking lot. From inside, they could hear the heavy rain and gushing winds starting to form.

“It says here that they might upgrade the tropical storm to a Hurricane category one tonight,” Bailey informed, looking from his phone to his aunt and uncle.

“It’s probably not safe to drive to Connecticut today,” Owen rationally said, looking from the kids to his wife. Even though it usually took less than one hour and a half to get from the airport to the city where Nancy lived, it wasn’t advisable with that weather. “What do you want to do? Do you want to see if we can find a hotel? There’s probably going to a be a lot of people trying to…”

“No,” Amelia interrupted him, opening the doors to one of the cars as she was assaulted with a better idea. “Let’s go to my mom’s. Her house is in Forest Hill, that’s about six miles from here. We can sleep there and drive up to New Canaan in the morning if the weather is better.”

The wedding was only in a few days and they had rented a house in New Canaan, Connecticut for a whole week, to allow the kids to spend some time with their cousins and grandmother while they enjoyed a bit of their summer break.

“I thought your mom would be with Nancy by now,” Owen reasoned.

“She is,” Amelia informed. “But I’ll call her and figure it out. I believe she leaves a spare key with the next door neighbor for emergencies,” The neurosurgeon remembered, picking up her cell to dial hoping that the phone signal was still good.

Fifteen minutes later, Amelia had gotten a hold of her mother and learned where she could get a spare key. Even though the route from JFK airport to the neighborhood in Queens where Amelia’s mother still lived was very short, they carefully drove through the rainy weather, paying close attention to the roads while instructing the kids to stay calm and quiet inside the cars.

Owen parked the car right behind Amelia’s and told the kids to wait inside while he watched her get the keys from the neighbor. It felt like the rain and wind were getting heavier but he still took his time examining the two story suburban house where his wife had grown up in.

Even though Owen had been in New York to visit her family a few times before, they had either stayed in a Hotel or in one of her sisters’ apartment in Manhattan. He had never really been to the neighborhood where Amelia had spent her early years and Owen couldn’t help noticing how appropriate for raising a family the streets over there seem to be, with spacious houses and a lot of parks, differing from the idea he had of the typical New York City neighborhood.

“Come on, Meg,” Owen picked up the little girl in his arms as he helped Zola, Ellis and Thomas get off the car. A few yards from them, Amelia did the same with Bailey and their other sons, grabbing their luggage as they tried to dodge the wind to carry everything inside the house.

When Amelia closed the door after them, locking it, she finally let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh my God, I thought we weren’t going to make it,” She smiled, seeing the startled expressions on each kid’s face. Soon enough, they started to make themselves comfortable, getting rid of their wet jackets and shoes.

After the long journey there, all eight kids were exhausted and hungry. Owen spent the next hour going over the groceries and making them sandwiches while Amelia went back and forth in the rooms, trying to find everybody an appropriate place to sleep. Her mother had been living alone in that house for years and it was to be expected that it couldn’t properly accommodate eight kids and two adults overnight. After everyone was already fed, Owen took care of the dishes while Amelia settled everyone. The rain was heavy outside but the power was still on, which was a comfort.

The house where the Shepherds had grown up in was old but carefully kept over the years. Despite being located in an excellent neighborhood, the house itself wasn’t big and there were only 3 bedrooms, all located on the top floor. Amelia correctly supposed Megan would want to stay with Zola, for the little girl was absolutely a fan of her seventeen year old cousin, so the neurosurgeon let the two girls sleep on Carolyn’s bed, whereas Bailey and Ellis stayed in Derek’s old room that had also been Nancy’s once. Thomas and Lucas shared the bunk bed in the third room and Robbie and Danny each got a comfortable couch, falling asleep before Amelia had the chance to turn off the lights in the living room.

“You do know this is all your fault, right?” Owen whispered in her ear from behind, startling Amelia just when she had engulfed the room in darkness.

“Damn it, Owen!” She angrily whispered back, taking her hand to her racing heart after nearly screaming at his scare. The gushing winds and the storm outside made the scenario already creepy enough. Amelia heard his laughter and took a deep breath, trying to pull herself back together. “What do you mean, this is my fault?” She frowned at him, obviously still mad at the way he’d approached her.

“Well…” Owen’s eyes shone with mirth as he carefully chose the words, knowing he was about to hit a nerve. “The minute you come home a Hurricane strikes the city. It can’t be a coincidence.”

Amelia turned around and glared at him, trying to decide whether to strangle her husband or attack him verbally.

“You’re very funny,” She chose sarcasm instead, dodging his touch when Owen tried to kiss her face. “And I have not come home.”

“You haven’t?” He teased her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind even though Amelia tried to resist it.

“My home is in Seattle,” She affirmed with conviction, still grumpily avoiding the touch of his lips.

His wife’s confession brought a smile to Owen’s face and he softened his grip on her body, gently swaying her around in his arms. Owen knew that even though Amelia had lived in several cities, it was only in his hometown that she’d been truly happy. And it had everything to do with the fact that it was in Seattle that they had started their family and lives together.

“I love to hear that’s how you feel,” Owen took one hand to her face, never failing to be amused by her childhood nickname she hated so much. Amelia had always refused to tell him how she’d come to be given that title even though Owen had heard it from her family members a couple of times in the past. “So, will you ever tell me why you’re Hurricane Amelia?”

“No,” Amelia promptly replied, trying to sound determinate and rigid but the lazy smile on the corner of her lips betrayed her. “Stop it, Owen…” She suppressed a giggle when her husband kept trying to seduce her into telling him with gentle kisses on her jaw line. “You know, I just realized I’ve put all kids in bed and now we have pretty much nowhere to sleep.” Amelia confessed.

Owen stopped what he was doing and brought his face up to stare into her eyes.

“Are you serious?” He let out an amused chuckle, seeing Amelia nodding affirmatively with a fun apologetic expression on her face.

“Well, it’s not entirely true, though,” Amelia bit her bottom lip mischievously and took her husband by the hand, silently guiding him.

Owen furrowed his brows in question but didn’t say a word, patiently waiting to see where she was taking him. Amelia walked past the kitchen and only when he thought they were about to exit the house through the back he noticed she was opening a small door that he had earlier believed to be a small storage room.

As soon as Owen made his way inside he realized that the room, whatever it had originally been in the past, had clearly been converted into a bedroom. By one corner, he spotted a chunky designed charcoal-oak single bed, with a few scratches on the elegant foil. Next to it, a study desk that seemed too small to be functional was covered with heavy books, some recognizable to him from his medical school days. A huge crimson Harvard felt pennant flag was hung right beneath a book shelf and some old posters decorated two of the remaining walls. But a delicate pin board with lavender post-its and old pictures gave the room a personal touch, letting Owen know that once someone had probably spent a lot of time there.

“Was this your room?” He turned around after carefully inspecting the pictures on the board. The teenage version of his wife appeared in several of them and one especially caught his attention. Amelia couldn’t have been older than twelve or thirteen as she stood smiling broadly to the camera with Derek by her side proudly wrapping one arm around his sister while flashing his graduation outfit from Columbia University.

“Yes,” Amelia sheepishly answered without taking her eyes off the same picture Owen had been looking at. He noticed as his wife slowly reached out for the board and carefully removed the photograph from there, studying it closely in her hands. “I didn’t remember this picture,” she embarrassingly confessed, obviously having just been assaulted by a wave of emotions.

“You look very happy on it,” Owen commented, noticing Amelia was still mesmerized by the image.

“I was,” Her reply was nearly a whisper. Amelia kept staring at the picture for long seconds before abruptly getting back to reality. “Derek was the first one of us to graduate from a University and it had always been my dad’s dream that we got to have an education,” She raised her head and made eye contact with Owen, a sad smile lingering on her lips. “Anyways,” Amelia returned the photo to the board, pinning it back, “this right here used to be my room for long, long years.”

“Why was your bedroom here in the kitchen?” Owen frowned. Apparently, the distance between Amelia and the rest of the family had not only been emotional, but also physical.

“This was originally a storage room accessible through the garage,” She explained, pointing to the marks on the wall that indicated there was once a door there. “I used to share a room upstairs with Kate, Liz and Nancy. It was horrible. I hated it and so did they. When Derek went off to college, Nancy being the oldest of us got his room and I convinced mom to let me move down here.”

Just as Amelia finished explaining, a loud thunder made the walls vibrate, startling them both. Owen knew that despite not very common, those kinds of tropical storms also weren’t rare in the East Coast. His eyes quickly spotted the defensive way in which Amelia wrapped her arms around herself. Even though she was acting serenely calm, judging by the way he’d inadvertently scared her before and how she seemed to be slightly alarmed, Owen assumed the awful storm outside was probably causing her more stress than she wanted to show, which was intriguing considering that back at their home Amelia had never been so affected by bad weather the way she seemed to be now. And ever since they’d entered that small room, Amelia’s discomfort seemed to have slightly increased.

“Did you see a lot of storms like this one when you were a kid?” He smiled affectionately at her, carefully trying to assess the subject. Over the years, Amelia had opened up to him about a lot of things and Owen was sure his wife trusted him with all her heart but for some reason, she rarely talked about her family and he knew there was much more pain hidden in the depths of her past than Amelia would care to admit.

“A few, yeah,” Amelia nodded with a half hearted smile, breaking eye contact with him at the same time she turned around, keeping herself busy looking for linens and blankets in the small wardrobe by one corner.

Through the small window, Owen saw a thick lightning strike, followed by another alarmingly loud thunder. Once again, he didn’t fail to notice how restless his wife was getting.

“It must have been pretty scary for a kid to sleep down here when the weather was this bad,” Owen casually commented with both hands inside his pant pockets, trying to initiate a conversation without pushing her. He watched as his wife walked back and forth inside the small room, obviously trying to distract herself. “I am pretty sure that if it were Megan, she would be flying upstairs asking to sleep in our bed.”

Amelia froze in her feet but instantly regained control, giving Owen a corner smile before adding cases to some pillows. Her reaction didn’t go unnoticed to Owen.

“I am pretty sure she would but I was older than Meg when I slept here and it wasn’t that big of a deal, really.”

The neurosurgeon quickly turned around again, avoiding eye contact with her husband. The memory of her eight year old self popped in Amelia’s mind and unwillingly she saw the familiar face of a scared little girl wrapping herself in a fluffy blanket while silently climbing the steps to the upper floor. She had lost count of how many nights like that she’d slept curled up in a tiny ball outside her mother’s bedroom, too afraid to sleep alone but at the same time too embarrassed to ask to be comforted because she knew that the minute her sisters found out she was afraid of storms, they would mercilessly make fun of her.

Amelia swallowed hard and felt stupid for letting those silly old memories get to her. She wasn’t a scared little girl anymore, she was a grown ass woman, and not only should she not be bothered by something as mundane as bad weather, she also shouldn’t be feeling sorry for herself like that. Amelia hated that feeling. Her sisters hadn’t been particularly easy on her and often her mother hadn’t properly intervened but even though it’d been painful, it had also made her toughen up, so now she needed to act accordingly.

Owen saw the transformation that slowly unfolded on her heavy expression. First fear and discomfort, then rejection and ultimately a familiar brightness of fierce determination shone in the amazing blue of his wife’s eyes. Amelia was easier to read than she would like and without saying another word, Owen kissed the top of her head, bending over to help her make the bed.

It was no news to him that Amelia usually wasn’t excited about seeing her family or spending time with them. Owen knew that this time it would be no different. He was sure that the only reason why Amelia had decided to drive to her childhood home to spend the night was because it was the safest and most comfortable alternative for the kids and she would always selflessly put their needs before her own, hence why she was submitting herself to sleeping in a tiny bed for the sake of their comfort.

“Do you think Meg could be scared?” Amelia’s eyes widened in the dark. Owen’s previous casual comment made her wonder if her daughter could be feeling the same things she’d once gone through and the thought freaked her out. “Or Danny or Robbie? The twins are all alone in that big living room without even…”

“They’re fine, Amelia. They’re asleep.” Owen gently interrupted her, smiling with pride at her concern.

“You go to sleep, I’ll be right back,” She handed over the pillows she was holding and without giving her husband the chance to say another word, made her way to the living room.

Owen heard the distant sounds of Amelia’s footsteps fading as she went to check on the kids and turning around, he couldn’t help laughing at the hilarious situation they were in. Back at their comfortable home in Seattle, he and his wife shared a huge king size bed and even then they were always bickering about space. Now they would have to share a bed in which Owen doubted he could fit without having to flex his legs.

He once again scanned everything around him, smiling to find the belongings of his wife. Owen felt closer to Amelia than anyone else in his life and yet, this was the only part of her life he hadn’t yet had full access to. At the same time he was intrigued, Owen was also fascinated. He knew Amelia’s childhood hadn’t been the easiest, having lost her dad at a young age and fighting drug addiction from adolescence. But even in her early years, she already possessed the resilience of a giant because as it had always followed, whenever the odds were against her, Amelia turned the table around and found her way out. She had responded to disbelief and neglect with amazing academic achievement and personal success. Her intellectual brilliance only wasn’t bigger than her emotional brightness because not only had Amelia made the top of her class in school and university, she had also maintained her high spirits and positivity, refusing to succumb to bitterness and self pity. It was probably her trait that Owen loved the most.

Or maybe it was the fact that she was such a devoted, selfless, affectionate human being, he thought. Truth was, Owen couldn’t decide. He loved Amelia too much and admired her even more.

After spending the following few minutes noticing the shelves and the pictures all around, Owen finally got in bed, laughing at how stupid he must have been looking. The rain outside was still falling but much less so and he had to admit the noise had gone from alarming to soothing. Soon enough, he heard his wife returning, easily dodging the furniture in the dark as she swiftly moved in the room she was so familiar with.

“Are they okay?” Owen asked with a whisper, turning to his side to make room for Amelia at the same time he stretched his arm open in a clear invitation.

“Yes,” Amelia replied with a sad smile. She lay down next to him on the small bed, gluing her back to Owen’s chest at the same time he firmly wrapped one arm around her waist.

Amelia closed her eyes with more strength than it was usually necessary, trying her hardest not to tear up at the same time she rested her hand above Owen’s, swiftly intertwining their fingers. She felt immensely relieved that her kids didn’t seem bothered at all by the thunderstorm outside.

But after wondering why, Amelia quickly reached a conclusion. Thankfully, none of them had experienced the loss of a person who was supposed to provide them with a sense of security and protection. Owen was there every night to make sure they felt safe, regardless of what was happening outside their house. Amelia was extremely grateful that none of her kids had ever had to feel as vulnerable and afraid as she once had, to the point of having a thunderstorm trigger feelings of insecurity and desperation that had led her to sleep in a cold hall just to prevent her pride, the only thing she had left, from being crushed by her fear.

But none of that mattered anymore because her kids were fine and safe. Amelia felt awful that, in a matter of hours of being at her childhood home, she was already being assaulted by emotions and memories that shifted her mood completely. She hated feeling like that and wouldn’t let it affect her spirits anymore. After all, they had flown across the country to be on vacation and the least she deserved was to thoroughly enjoy it. Instead of mourning because her family had caused her pain once, Amelia felt like she should be celebrating the fact that now, the family she had built with the love of her life only filled her with happiness and reasons to smile every day.

“Are you comfortable there?” She teasingly asked, turning around in Owen’s arms and tightly wrapping her arm around his chest, loving the comfort of his embrace.

“I feel as cozy as a tuna inside a can,” Owen joked, reveling in the sound of her laughter. He had no idea why, but she seemed to be in a better mood and he loved seeing her authentic smile again. “I am kidding, this actually feels kind of nice,” He confessed, suggestively pulling her closer at the same time his free hand lazily caressed her hair. “I can’t remember the last time I had you all to myself like this.”

Amelia saw the spark in his eyes and she smiled back at her husband, completely enchanted.

“Well, I am all yours,” Amelia buried her face on the curve of his neck, unknowingly seeking the comfort she desperately needed but refused to acknowledge.

Owen smiled and ran his hand on her back beneath the soft fabric of her shirt, feeling the familiar warmth of her skin. He sensed Amelia’s body slowly relaxing as she rested with one leg and arm thrown over his body.

“You can count on me to hold you through the storm, alright?” Owen whispered after a few minutes of careful hesitation. “We’ll be together through it. And I won’t let go, I promise.”

Amelia opened her eyes in the dark, slowly processing the meaning of his words. Her husband wasn’t exactly talking about the weather and she knew it. Amelia should have known that even though Owen didn’t ask a lot of questions, when it came to her he often didn’t have to, because she involuntarily provided him with all the answers.

“Even in the super loud thunders?” She raised her head and stared lovingly at him, unable to express how much she adored that man.

“Even in the loudest ones,” Owen joked, tilting his head to give her a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“Even when the Hurricane strikes?” Amelia tested him suggestively, knowing Owen would realize she didn’t mean the weather either.

“I have a thing for Hurricanes. You should know that by now,” He provoked her with an affectionate smile. “After all, I married one,” Owen closed his eyes, feeling exhaustion from the full day they’d had finally catching up with him.

“Don’t call me that, I hate it,” Amelia said for the sake of her pride, turning her head to hide the smile of amusement at her silly act.

Owen chuckled and once again tightened his grip around his wife, pulling her closer before allowing himself to fall asleep. Even though the space was limited, Amelia was feeling strangely comfortable and she was finally able to relax and close her eyes, knowing that for the first time ever she would peacefully sleep through the night in that bed.

—

#omelia #owelia #amen #greysanatomyfanfic #greys anatomy fanfiction #greysanatomy #greys anatomy #owen hunt #amelia shepherd #myboys #myboysfanfiction

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maxwellyjordan · 5 years

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Argument analysis: Justices debate ability of business that did not sign arbitration agreement to compel arbitration

As noted in my preview last week, GE Energy Power Conversion France SAS v Outokumpu Stainless USA is the Supreme Court’s first arbitration case of the 2019 term. For observers familiar with the arbitration docket in recent years, this case will seem unusual, because so few of the justices seem predisposed to compel arbitration.

Most of the court’s arbitration cases involve domestic disputes governed by the Federal Arbitration Act, most commonly disputes in which a consumer seeks to avoid the enforcement of a pre-dispute arbitration agreement between the consumer and a business enterprise that has provided goods or services to the consumer. This case, by contrast, involves an international commercial dispute governed by the Convention on the Recognition and Enforcement of Foreign Arbitral Awards, commonly known as the New York Convention. That treaty (to which the United States and about 160 other nations are signatories) obligates nations to enforce arbitration agreements between businesses of member states.

The case has all the international flavor you could seek. It starts with a contract to construct steel mills in Alabama, between Outokumpu Stainless USA (the United States subsidiary of a large Finnish stainless-steel producer) and Fives ST Corp (an affiliate of a French engineering group). The contract called for arbitration in Dusseldorf under German law. When a motor failed at the Alabama facility, Fives rejected Outokumpu’s complaint, arguing that any fault lay with Fives’ subcontractor, GE Energy Power Conversion France (a French subsidiary of General Electric that had built and installed the motor). Outokumpu responded by suing GE France in Alabama. GE France, although not a party to the arbitration agreement itself, argued unsuccessfully that Outokumpu should be compelled by “equitable estoppel” to present its claims in arbitration.

For several of the justices, the absence of any arbitration agreement between GE France and Outokumpu seemed to present an insuperable obstacle to compelling arbitration. Moonlighting from his duties at the impeachment trial, Chief Justice John Roberts commented: “I thought it was one of the central propositions of our arbitration precedents that arbitration is based on agreement. And here somebody who never agreed to arbitration is being forced into arbitration, even though he has a clear right to take his dispute to court.”

Shay Dvoretzky, representing GE France, explained that the question is simply whether the New York Convention would permit countries to recognize the “equitable estoppel” doctrine on which GE France relies. Justice Samuel Alito scoffed at the idea that American courts should apply such a rule: “Well, what if the law of the jurisdiction whose law would be chosen permits arbitration without any consent whatsoever? I guess you’d have to say that that’s okay, right?”

When Dvoretzky readily agreed with Alito’s characterization of his argument, Justice Elena Kagan chimed in:

So you’re saying that when the United States entered into the Convention and when it then implemented the Convention through the FAA, Congress didn’t understand arbitration to mean voluntary arbitration? … It seems odd that Congress would have passed the implementing legislation on the view that another contracting state could compel arbitration without any consent whatsoever.

Dvoretzky responded by repeating that the only issue before the court is whether federal courts can apply the “equitable estoppel” doctrine in cases under the convention, and that the court should leave to the court of appeals the question of how that doctrine might apply to this case. For Roberts, though, that seemed almost bizarre:

[I]f someone is going to adopt such a radical proposition [in Roberts’s words, that “you can enforce arbitration against somebody who didn’t sign the agreement”] it probably should be us, rather than send it back to the Eleventh Circuit and say, well, if you want to go against all our precedents on arbitration, fine, but we’re not going to do it. … Not to suggest I have a view either way.

Kagan repeatedly took Dvoretzky back to the language of the convention, suggesting a reading that would limit arbitration under the convention to the parties to an arbitration agreement. As she put it, “I have to tell you, I think that the best understanding of the term ‘parties’ looking at the three sentences of Article II, let’s just assume that the best understanding is ‘the parties to the agreement.’” For Kagan, that suggested that the convention applies only when “the parties to the agreement are requesting the arbitration. And that’s when the court should refer the [matter to] arbitration.”

In response to Dvoretzky’s argument that the convention is only a floor – specifying one case in which arbitration must be compelled but leaving it to individual states to develop rules for other cases – Kagan responded pointedly:

If I say federal courts shall have jurisdiction over federal questions, would this statute also permit those courts to exercise jurisdiction over state questions? … Shareholders shall appoint two directors to the board. Does that mean shareholders can appoint 20 directors to the board? … Because “shall” means “shall only” in many circumstances, right?

Returning to her earlier point, Kagan closed the conversation by suggesting that in her view “what’s relevant to the context [of the statute implementing the Convention] is the assumption on the part of the United States Congress when it passed the FAA … that arbitration was a matter of voluntary consent.”

Although this series of exchanges seemed to suggest that the court would affirm the lower court and reject GE France’s claim for arbitration, the discussion became considerably more ambiguous as the argument progressed. Assistant to the Solicitor General Jonathan Ellis, appearing on behalf of the government as a “friend of the court’ in support of GE France, faced strong questioning on both sides of the case.

On the one hand, Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg characterized Ellis as “suggesting … that we should recognize this equitable estoppel, even though our treaty partners would not, which could yield divergent results and give you a real problem at the enforcement end because a country that doesn’t recognize equitable estoppel will hesitate to enforce an award that was based on that theory.” For her, at least, application of the doctrine in domestic cases to limit access to courts by workers who had not signed arbitration agreements “sounds like a real horrible” that she was not anxious to replicate on the international stage.

On the other hand, Justice Sonia Sotomayor seemed to find it reasonable to permit GE France to compel arbitration. For one thing, she seemed to think that the convention left “a lot of leeway for states to determine who’s a party to that written agreement.” She wasn’t sympathetic to the idea that “a state could say ‘no essence of consent’ whatsoever,” but she was receptive to the argument that “you have some play in the joints with respect to who parties are and that domestic law can inform that.” And on the facts of this particular case, because the contract between Outokumpu and Fives listed GE France as a likely subcontractor, and “defined [the subcontractors] as sellers in the contract,” she saw no obvious reason why conventional estoppel rules wouldn’t make GE France a “seller” entitled to enforce the arbitration agreement against Outokumpu.

Jonathan Hacker, representing Outokumpu, took the podium to defend the lower-court’s ruling barring arbitration. Justice Neil Gorsuch in particular was skeptical of Hacker’s argument. Gorsuch agreed with Roberts and others that it is untenable to “say we’re going to force all these suppliers into arbitration, compel them without their consent,” but in his view GE France’s role as a subcontractor under the agreement calling for arbitration was more than enough to make its plea for arbitration plausible: “[I]t’s quite another to say that you agreed to this contract, where they can bring arbitration against you. And there’s no consent problem there, it seems to me.”

Gorsuch returned repeatedly to the idea that once Hacker acknowledged any doctrines that permit arbitration between nonparties, it was arbitrary to single out “equitable estoppel” as impermissible: “[Y]ou’ve admitted that there are other doctrines that allow third parties to be brought in as privities who may not have strictly consented. Alter-ego theory, veil-piercing theory. It’s a fiction to call that consent.” Gorsuch echoed Dvoretzky’s idea that the convention merely describes “what’s required to trigger the Convention[, b]ut that may just be the floor of what’s available to states domestically, and domestically they may choose to enforce more than that.” Indeed, at some points, even Kagan (despite her strong statements earlier in the hour) seemed open to the same reading of the convention.

This was a hard argument to interpret, but it seems likely to result in a sharply divided court. Roberts and Ginsburg, for example, seemed least inclined to sign on to a decision allowing GE France to force Outokumpu into arbitration. On the other hand, Sotomayor and Gorsuch appeared to find GE France’s efforts to arbitrate quite sensible, and certainly a topic on which they would tolerate lower-court exploration. Whether the justices will stick to those divergent views or find some middle ground on which they can agree is hard to tell at this point. I would put this one down for a relatively late and heavily contested decision.

Editor’s note: Analysis based on transcript of oral argument.

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networkingdefinition · 5 years

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Caffeine Quotes

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• A 3K word story might well be done in some caffeine-and-nicotine-fuelled 36 hour session, and at the end of it, there’ll be a few passes of editing required, but I basically have a polished draft. – Hal Duncan • Actually caffeine is too hard on my system. I’m a delicate boy from Plano, Texas. – John Benjamin Hickey • Always drink at least 8 ounces of water or a sugar-free decaffeinated beverage with every meal or snack. If you are a heavy caffeine user, gradually reduce caffeine intake to zero whenever possible. – Barry Sears • Americans are used to being pandered to and spoon-fed everything. In a culture that needs caffeine-free cherry chocolate diet Coke, you’d best deliver information with entertainment. – Bill Maher • Anyone who doubts that caffeine is a drug should read some of the prose composed under its influence. – Anne Fadiman

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Caffeine', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_caffeine').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_caffeine img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Band of Skulls is joining Cage the Elephant as my new musical caffeine. • By now, it is probably very late at night, and you have stayed up to read this book when you should have gone to sleep. If this is the case, then I commend you for falling into my trap. It is a writer’s greatest pleasure to hear that someone was kept up until the unholy hours of the morning reading one of his books. It goes back to authors being terrible people who delight in the suffering of others. Plus, we get a kickback from the caffeine industry. – Brandon Sanderson • Caffeine dehydrates the body and speeds up the aging of the skin and kidneys. – Ann Louise Gittleman • Caffeine dehydrates the brain and body. – Daniel Amen • Caffeine gives me hope. Sometimes, when I brew my wicked strong Irish black tea just perfect, about halfway through the mug I feel a clear and overwhelming feeling of optimism. It didn’t surprise me when a study a few years ago implied that suicide was much less likely among coffee and tea drinkers. – John Vanderslice • Caffeine helps a lot. That and a certain amount of isolation. – Patrick Rothfuss • Caffeine is like a really attractive girl that has nothing to say. You get all jacked up on it and then you’re left feeling hollow and empty. – Adam Levine • Caffeine is my shepherd; I shall not doze. It maketh me to wake in green pastures: It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses. It restoreth my buzz. – Bob Phillips • Caffeine. The gateway drug. – Eddie Vedder • Complacencies of the peignoir, and late Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair. And the green freedom of a cockatoo Upon a rug mingle to dissipate The holy hush of ancient sacrifice – Wallace Stevens • Couldn’t start the morning without caffeine. – Ginnifer Goodwin • Diet Coke does not contain nasty chemicals. It contains lovely and delicious carbonation, caffeine, and aspartame. What’s unnatural about that? – Meg Cabot • Doing something does not require discipline. It creates its own discipline – with a little help from caffeine. – Annie Dillard • Drink it,” I told her. “It’s good for what ails you. Caffeine and sugar. I don’t drink it, so I ran over to your house and stole the expensive stuff in your freezer. It shouldn’t be that bad. Samuel told me to make it strong and pour sugar into it. It should taste sort of like bitter syrup.” She gave me a smile smile, then a bigger one, and plugged her nose before she drank it down in one gulp. “Next time,” she said in a hoarse voice, “I make the coffee. – Patricia Briggs • Either the kid was naturally hyper or he was hopped up on enough caffeine to give a heart attack to a water buffalo. – Rick Riordan • Fitness has always been a big part of my life, so I train twice a day, every day, as I always have done, but also eating very healthfully. I don’t eat sugar, I don’t have caffeine, I don’t eat wheat – I look after my body outside and inside. It’s just a part of who I’ve always been. – Neil Jackson • For a successful strategy session, keep the food light, the lights bright, and drink caffeine all night. – Mike Brown • For me, if I get up and don’t meditate and don’t eat something before having caffeine, I go from 0 to 10 on the stress scale. – Gabrielle Bernstein • Heaven knows that alcohol is the worst thing in the world, but it’s debatable whether cocaine is worse than caffeine or whether it’s the same thing and they just changed the name. – Merle Haggard • I am running on fumes, so it’s time to get centered again. I start with eating healthier and cutting out caffeine – at least cutting back on caffeine. I exercise and get outside to play. I reconnect with my spiritual practice, which is daily meditation and prayer. Most importantly, I reconnect with my family and friends. If all else fails, a few deep breaths. – Amber Valletta • I can’t wake up at all without caffeine. – Andrew Rannells • I don’t have the time to devote to circles or covens. I have to fit things in when and where I can, in stolen moments and cups of coffee. Stirring clockwise to conjure. Widdershins to banish. There’s never enough time, and rarely enough caffeine, but I make do with what I have. Besides, cauldrons and pointy hats are overrated. Sometimes I see other customers practicing. Pouring their cream and sugar with studied intent. Stirring with purpose. I add an extra spoonful of sugar to my own coffee for them, to make all of our enchantments sweeter. – Erin Morgenstern • I don’t have hardly any caffeine, I don’t drink alcohol and I watch my red meat intake. My diet at the minute seems to be verging towards the vegetarian, which is surprising me because I tend to just listen to what my body is fancying. – Jayne Middlemiss • I don’t know where my ideas come from. I will admit, however, that one key ingredient is caffeine. I get a couple cups of coffee into me and weird things just start to happen. – Gary Larson • I don’t usually drink caffeine so that when I need it, it actually does something. – Anna Kendrick • I drink booze, I smoke, and I’m hooked on caffeine. I actually have been known to swear at times and belch and even raise my voice when provoked. And I’m not physically repressed! – Helena Bonham Carter • i drink caffeine” she said calmly “lot’s of it gives you pep – Ally Carter • I drink mate every day during training camp, and just in general. It’s packed full of vitamins and nutrients and a lot of B vitamins that you would normally get from meat. The caffeine in there affects me less and it’s more like a stimulant. I can drink more of it and it’s hydrating as well. It’s one of my favorite drinks, especially on a cold morning. – Chris Algieri • I love cranberry juice, but I’m not a coffee drinker – as a Mormon, I avoid caffeine. – Donny Osmond • I love Starbucks. Maybe thats a bit sad. But I definitely need my caffeine. Its what gets me out of bed in the morning. – Nikki Sixx • I ordered a soda – caffeine-free, low sodium, no artificial flavors. They brought me a glass of water. – Robert E. Murray • I still encourage anyone who feels at all compelled to write to do so. I just try to warn people who hope to get published that publication is not all it is cracked up to be. But writing is. Writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises. That thing you had to force yourself to do – the actual act of writing – turns out to be the best part. It’s like discovering that while you thought you needed the tea ceremony for the caffeine, what you really needed was the tea ceremony. The act of writing turns out to be its own reward. – Anne Lamott • I take them 8 to 80, dumb, crippled, and crazy. Crisp and clean with no caffeine, and a pair of spandex or either tight jeans. – Big Daddy Kane • I think I’ve reduced the amount of blood in my caffeine system to an acceptable level. – Alastair Reynolds • I try to stay sane and grounded by hunkering down, eating right, and exercising. I make a routine of spin class, yoga, and Pilates, places I push my body so hard I can lose my mind. Cutting out caffeine and sugar, being mindful, and getting enough rest are important. – Jaime Murray • I used to drink tons of caffeine. Now I make smoothies with frozen berries and Green Vibrance health powder. – Leighton Meester • I used to smoke cigarettes, ten a day, but gave up when I was 28. Now my vice is several cups of coffee a day, which isn’t great if you’re prone to weak bones as I am, as caffeine can leach calcium. – Britt Ekland • I want vasopressin, washed caffeine, Jumpstart, ginkgo biloba, guarana, and any intelligence enhancer introduced in the last five years. – Warren Ellis • I would drink gallons of coffee a day. Even now, off caffeine, I talk faster than anyone you’ve ever met. I finally recognized that I’m naturally amped up. But when I quit I was worried that I would never write again. It was like anyone who’s kicked a habit. I was in a blanket shivering, trying to kick the horse. – Nathan Englander • I would love to think there is a direct relationship between coffee and genius, but they’ve done studies, and if anything, caffeine probably makes you a little less creative. – Eric Weiner • I’d listen to things that felt really good in the moment and realize they were clouded by enthusiasm or caffeine. And things that I was struggling to get out ended up being really compelling. It’s an emotional roller coaster; there’s exhilaration and there’s shame. – Annie E. Clark • If they took all the drugs, nicotine, alcohol and caffeine off the market for six days, they’d have to bring out the tanks to control you. – Dick Gregory • If you want to have a nonmiraculous day, I suggest that newspaper and caffeine form the crux of your morning regimen. Listen to the morning news while you’re in the shower, read the headlines as you are walking out the door, make sure you’re keeping tabs on everything: the wars, the economy, the gossip, the natural disasters. . . But if you want the day ahead to be full of miracles, then spend some time each morning with God. – Marianne Williamson • If you want to understand a society, take a good look at the drugs it uses. And what can this tell you about American culture? Well, look at the drugs we use. Except for pharmaceutical poison, there are essentially only two drugs that Western civilization tolerates: Caffeine from Monday to Friday to energize you enough to make you a productive member of society, and alcohol from Friday to Monday to keep you too stupid to figure out the prison that you are living in. – Bill Hicks • I’m a really skinny guy, I’m real tall, and I have a very high metabolism, so if I drink anything with caffeine in it, it makes me have an anxiety attack. So I can’t do coffee, or cola, or coffee ice cream, or any of those things. They make me feel like I’m going berserk. – Mark Hosler • I’m active even on bad days; it’s tough to pin me down. People ask me if I’m a morning or night person. I’m an all-the-time person. I like drinking coffee, but I do it with lots of milk because my energy levels are high even without caffeine. You could call me Obelix, except I don’t have a belly. – Bipasha Basu • Interesting choice,” Sullivan said. He slid his gaze over to Paul, who was drumming his fingers on the table in a manic, caffeine-inspired way and blinking a lot. Paul wasn’t out-and-out singing along with the king of the dead, but he might as well have put out a big neon sign saying “How’s My Driving? Ask Me About My Nerves: 1-800-WIG-N-OUT.” –James – Maggie Stiefvater • Is my music indicative of a caffeine-surged green liquid? Probably not. – Alan Palomo • It’s all I have left in my life, caffeine and a poodle. – Brad Garrett • It’s the fine balance of caffeine and alcohol that bookends my days – Tim Minchin • Marijuana is not not harmful, but is the least harmful psychoactive substance that we have, with the possible exception of caffeine. – Maia Szalavitz • My major vice is sarcasm with a side of caffeine addiction. – Rosemary Clement-Moore • Never drink diet soda. It shows you have no nerve. Only drink real colas, caffeine-packed energy drinks, or vitamin water. Hate champagne because that’s what everyone expects you to love. Energy drinks are the best party drinks. You never get tired, you never get a hangover, and you can make fun of all the loaded people who think they’re clever but are really acting stupid. – Paris Hilton • Never had a cup of coffee in my life. Dr Pepper is my caffeine delivery system of choice. – Steven Soderbergh • Once I had a potentially heart attack-inducing eight double espressos in one day. I think my assistant secretly swaps my coffees for decaf as she doesn’t want me to die of caffeine overdose. – Steven Soderbergh • One of the things that’s interesting to me is I find things like caffeine and stunts actually relax me. When they’re putting a bit of gel on my arm and lighting me on fire, or when I’m about to go into a high-speed car chase or rev a motorcycle up pretty fast, I find everything else around me slows down. – Nicolas Cage • People often say that writing is ten percent inspiration and ninety percent perspiration. This is nonsense, of course. It’s pretty much one hundred percent caffeine. – Caprice Crane • Rebus was eating breakfast in the canteen and wishing there was more caffeine in the coffee, or more coffee in the coffee come to that. – Ian Rankin • Recently I quit caffeine. My doctor seems to think that 17 Diet Cokes per day is too much. In case you ever consider getting off caffeine yourself, let me explain the process. You begin by sitting motionlessly in a desk chair. Then you just keep doing that forever because life has no meaning. – Scott Adams • Rewards can deliver a short-term boost—just as a jolt of caffeine can keep you cranking for a few more hours. But the effect wears off—and, worse, can reduce a person’s longer-term motivation to continue the project. – Daniel H. Pink • Settle down, pup. I ain’t had my caffeine yet.” – Sundown – Sherrilyn Kenyon • Sleep is just a good idea. I bow to the god caffeine. – Jo-Ann Mapson • Sleep is just a symptom of caffeine lack – Herman Friele • Sleep: a poor substitute for caffeine! – Wallace Shawn • So I forcibly shove aside my prickles of pissed-off, which is easier than it sounds when millions of little sequined caffeine dancers are doing their big Broadway number on your internal stage. – Deb Caletti • Sometimes you have good days, and sometimes you have bad days. It really depends on how much caffeine you’ve had. – Chris Colfer • Starbucks says they are going to start putting religious quotes on cups. The very first one will say, ‘Jesus! This cup is expensive!’ – Conan O’Brien • Stop,” I said. “Please do not further endorken yourself to me. You have great hair and a car that is most fly, and you have just saved me with your mad ninja driving skills, so do not sully your heroic hottie image in my mind by further reciting your nerdy scholastic agenda. Don’t tell me what you’re studying, Steve, tell me what’s in your soul. What haunts you?” And he was like, “Dude, you need to cut back on the caffeine. – Christopher Moore • Sugar and caffeine. My willpower crumbled. – Rick Riordan • Tai chi is the one exercise that can universally help solve our growing health crisis. It has stood the test of thousands of years. We have a generation of baby boomers with increasing health problems; old people who are sick, in pain, fearful, and cranky; a middle class that is increasingly incapable of affording most of the drugs that are prescribed for their ailments; children that are flaccid, diabetic and asthmatic. People of all ages are addicted to drugs, alcohol, sugar, cigarettes, and caffeine. Stress follows almost everyone like a shadow. – Bruce Frantzis • There are a couple of homeopathic things that can be done, but you can’t really beat good rest and lots of water. That’s the honest truth. Making sure I’m well-rested and hydrated makes a big difference. Warm water and honey is a go-to, I don’t really drink tea unless it’s absolutely organic, because otherwise the caffeine will dry my voice out for some reason. – Miguel • There are two things that I cannot live without: music and books. Caffeine isn’t dignified enough to qualify. – Carlos Ruiz Zafon • There is no such thing as sleep deprivation, there is only caffeine deficiency. – Richard Simmons • This coffee falls into your stomach, and straightway there is a general commotion. Ideas begin to move like the battalions of the Grand Army of the battlefield, and the battle takes place. Things remembered arrive at full gallop, ensuing to the wind. The light cavalry of comparisons deliver a magnificent deploying charge, the artillery of logic hurry up with their train and ammunition, the shafts of with start up like sharpshooters. Similes arise, the paper is covered with ink; for the struggle commences and is concluded with torrents of black water, just as a battle with powder. – Honore de Balzac • Those fruity drinks better have a lot of caffeine in them or I’ll never make it through World Issues. – Lisi Harrison • To develop intuition, one of the things you can do is pay attention to what you eat. Eat as clean a diet as you can. Eat fresh fruits and vegetables without preservatives, without alcohol, caffeine, dyes, and organically grown if possible. But do what is comfortable for your. Don’t try to shift into a lifestyle that doesn’t fit, but be aware that the lighter you eat the lighter you will feel. – Gary Zukav • We have too many poisons in our diets now, like sugar and caffeine. – Jasmine Guinness • We’re machines for turning caffeine into physics – Nima Arkani-Hamed • Widespread caffeine use explains a lot about the twentieth century. – Greg Egan • You can never have too much coffee”, I said He turned and smiled at me. “You think so, but the rest of us get a little OD’ed on your level of caffeine. – Laurell K. Hamilton

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