#overall i was bored & i think i would rather just watch children of men again

[peppermintschnapps]

i finished tlou (hbo) and at the risk of sounding contrarian & negative, i feel kind of lost as to all the hype. for me the show was a 3 or 4/10.

[butwhatifidothis]

Tumblr is starting to VERY MUCH dislike how long the other reblog chain is getting, so this will be Reblog Chain 2 of my jotting down notes of this fic. Here is the first reblog chain for Chapters 1-20

But it appears as though I was correct in sleeping off Chapter 20, because Chapter 21 is. Hm. bad. Very. Not good.

Chapter 21:

Transcript under the cut:

Chapter 21: It's Called Scars so it Gonna Be Ass

- To be blunt, the constant need to reaffirm that yes, Edelgard went through terrible experimentation and that yes, they were very horrific, is tiring. This is chapter 21. The experiments occurred in chapter 2. Every single chapter between now and then have, at some point, mentioned that INDEED, Edelgard DID in fact go through horrific trauma. It is tiring to the reader to constantly have to reread the same thing - we know it happened. We know it was terrible. There's no need to constantly say so; we already understand as readers.

- "Every time the spark of life broke through Byleth’s blank face, it brought a flickering hope to the Flame Emperor’s heart." ->

- Firstly: Awkward use of the Flame Emperor epithet (its usage is on and off with how appropriate its been - this is off).

- Secondly: Once again, Byleth's face was rarely if ever blank. She was never the Ashen Demon, as even the last chapter showcased. The author is mistaking reservation with emotionlessness, which is simply wrong

- "There had been so many empty days and nights, without friendship, love or joy. With nothing to hope for, except someday, the peace of the grave." -> Suicidal tendencies: another trait that Edelgard doesn't have... (strikes against canon: 89)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 12

- "Dimitri, too, was troubled by the thought, grasping the side of his head and frowning. As the spasm passed, he turned to Edelgard and smiled warmly." -> It seems a little callous to so casually toss Dimitri's symptoms into his interactions with others when such things simply don't occur in the canon interactions. It's not impossible, or strictly against canon, but it does not feel natural; it's more as though the author is shining bright neon signs that say DIMITRI HAS MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES than a genuine attempt at writing Dimitri's mental health issues. This is not the first time this sort of seemingly thoughtless showcasing of symptoms has happened (Noted separately: Dimitri having drastic mood swings)

- "No, this world must be ruled by humans…not cruel gods who ignored the prayers of little girls." -> This statement follows Edelgard internally chastising the actions of not gods, but the Children of the Goddess. This is a weaselly attempt at dodging Edelgard's racist beliefs that Nabateans should not be allowed positions of power by shifting the belief to apply to miscellaneous gods instead. While not inaccurate per se - she does also canonically believe that gods should have no power in human affairs - it is not honest

- "Byleth nodded with childlike simplicity. “We should all try to get along.”" -> Again describing Byleth as childlike and/or innocent. Counter: 3

- For those curious: yes, the rat scene is implemented, yes it is sloppy, yes it is out of character for Claude - so much so that it is being noted separately - and yes it is forced to all hell

- What will be noted here, however, is that this is yet another instance of a man being demeaned/humiliated for the honor of a woman. See quote: "Byleth was on him in an instant, a tempest forming in the sea of her blue eyes. “That isn’t funny.” She crossed her arms sternly. “Jokes are about bringing people together...about making them smile. Right now, the only person laughing is you.”" with Claude reacting awkwardly. Once again, Man Bad Woman Good

- In a showcasing of a complete lack of self-awareness within the fic: "“Maybe if you’d have taught the Deer instead…but since you seem to have no ambitions outside of cleaning up Edelgard’s messes…”" -> This is Claude being portrayed as the bad guy, not the one being completely and utterly right

- " She slapped Edelgard on the back, and smiled heartily. “I agree, Dimitri!” Edelgard grimaced, trying to hide the fact her teacher had just struck the wound she had received during the mock battle." -> As well as where undoubtedly countless scars would be, yes? Scars that still cause Edelgard pain? In fact, Edelgard has been slapped on the back by Byleth and Jeralt numerous times before, and yet expresses no pain or discomfort.

- Another thing, that I had not noted though ought to have: Edelgard, a victim of sexual assault (in this fic), rarely seems to mind people touching her. She gets a little surprised if someone tries to get her attention with touch, yes, but Byleth's constant unprompted and random touching of Edelgard is never said to do anything but bring warmth and joy and comfort to Edelgard. It seems as though Edelgard suffering through sexual assault is just another source of trauma for the author to dump onto her for nothing more than pity points

- This is incredibly harsh to say, yes, and I would usually refrain from attributing such harshness onto a piece of text, but remember that Edelgard's scars only cause her pain when it's convenient, that she only experiences headaches when it's convenient, that she experiences PTSD episodes (when Claude mentions the rat) when it's convenient (note that in this fic he does it outside of battle, where her getting triggered wouldn't compromise her chances at victory). Edelgard not being touch averse and being a victim of sexual assault are not inherently something bad - survivors react to trauma differently, after all - but it is another in a steadily longer line of instances where Edelgard is simply given trauma for the sake of making her pitiable to the reader and the love interest, not something that Edelgard genuinely has to struggle with.

- "As Claude and Dimitri looked at their classmate expectantly, Edelgard was wracked with another bout of guilt. Deep in her soul, the princess knew these peaceful days would end soon. When that happened, no feast or vows of friendship could make up for the chaos and horror she would unleash. It would be better to pull away, close off her heart, rather than fuel the flames of her inevitable betrayal." -> Aka, "Feel bad for me, I feel guilty for planning to cause the death and ruination of countless innocents' lives all because I convinced myself that my way is the only way to get things done my way without ever actually trying to see if more peaceful ways could have worked. I'm going to orphan children, force families to fight each other, have the land be rampaged by banditry, and overall bring chaos onto these days that I ADMIT ARE PEACEFUL all because I feel that my way would be better. Wah wah pity me but I don't wanna be pitied I promise wah wah."

- "Byleth shrugged with a characteristic blend of innocence and spirit. “I guess I just like winning.” She began to blush and grabbed Edelgard’s hand. "It's so exciting! I’ve never had anyone other than Papa to celebrate with before!”" -> Byleth = innocent/childlike. Counter: 4

- The fic likes to reaffirm again and again that Byleth is "now" only acting like this due to Edelgard's presence in her life. Note also these statements written previously: "Every day, [Edelgard] was watching the person she loved grow and change. Become who she always was supposed to be." This, perhaps unintentionally, again enforces the "Lesbian Love is Pure and Innocent" trope; these wlw are only allowed to be their good girl, innocent selves - who they were always supposed to be - due to the pure lesbian love they have found with one another

- Count Bergliez didn't know of the experiments initially, but he eventually found out and did nothing to stop them, fleeing from a young and tortured El who was pleading for him to save her - Unnecessarily painting Count Bergliez as a spineless coward too afraid of Duke Aegir to save a child in pain

- Once again, a man fails to save a woman and further traumatizes her

- It should be noted that Bergliez is fearful not for his own life, but for that of his children, who were the ones Duke Aegir threatened. He, very similar to Ionius, cannot save Edelgard, except Bergliez (unlike Ionius) has a tangible, physical, explainable reason as to why he couldn't, and yet it is him who is painted as the bad guy, not Ionius. He is worthy of Edelgard's scorn and hatred, but Ionius only receives a begrudging feeling of betrayal from Edelgard that she feels guilty for harboring, even though he failed her far more than Bergliez failed her.

- "Daughters must always be loyal to their fathers" trope

- "No decent person thought the things Edelgard did. Just as her body had been twisted and shattered by the experiments, her mind bore terrible scars. Scars that the monster kept hidden, so she could walk in the world of men." -> Dehumanizing oneself as a monster as well as having violent thoughts (that specifically stem from trauma) one feels guilty for harboring are not traits Edelgard shows in canon... (strikes against canon, 90, 91)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 13, 14

- "world of men?" Did the author perhaps mean "world of man," as in mankind? Keep note of

- The reason as to why Bergliez is said to have witnessed young El's tortured state and did nothing to help her is revealed: in canon, he dislikes her. It is blatantly and objectively said that he and Edelgard share a mutual displeasure in the other's company. What this fic had him do will be used as an excuse as to why he doesn't hate her, since no one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Edelgard, upon being asked if revenge is the reason she is doing what she's doing (reuniting Fodlan): "“No.” Edelgard put her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “I think for a long time, it was…but after a while, I realized that revenge wouldn’t satisfy me.” She looked at the blue sky above. “After you go through that much suffering…when you beg for help, day after day, and no one cares...you realize that nothing will ever truly make you feel safe again. The only thing I want is for this madness to end.”" -> This is internally inconsistent. See chapter 15 note: ""You know why they created me in the first place.” / “To reunite Fódlan,” spat Hubert. “It was all my father talked about.” / “And I will give it to them. "" This directly connects Edelgard's want to reunite Fodlan to the wants of her tormenters (as this states she is doing it out of spite). Note how Hubert spits at the idea of reuniting Fodlan, and how it was all his father - portrayed as a villain - talked about. This is not what this Edelgard wants, at least not of her own independent want. Earlier in this very chapter, Edelgard internally states a want to hurt Bergliez for leaving her behind. To say that she now no longer thinks vengeance would satisfy her, or that none of the reason that she is doing everything she does is out of a want for revenge, is ridiculous

- Edelgard to Bergliez, upon being asked what will happen to him and his family should Edelgard rise to power: "“All those who distinguish themselves will be rewarded. Given your history, I have little doubt you will be among them.” She nervously played with her white gloves. “All I ask is that when I seize back control of the throne, I can count on the military’s support.”" -> Yes, all who distinguish themselves to Edelgard, for Edelgard's cause, that Edelgard can see and/or know of. How likely is it that a poor farmer who is exceptional at fighting will actually be noticed by Edelgard and be given the credit he deserves, when others who may not be as meritable but do have some merit have the connections to show themselves directly in front of Edelgard? What means will Edelgard give the poor soldiers (that she or Byleth aren't already friends with, notably Dorothea and Leonie) that will allow them to be able to be seen by her and have their merits recognized? Edelgard is the one who says who gains power after all, so it is her they must prove themselves to, but how can they realistically do that?

- What about professions that are not immediately beneficial to Edelgard's cause, such as the arts? How will they fare in Edelgard's society, when their works and talents yield no tangible, objective results (such as, say, farming)?

- Something the fic will address?

- Edelgard does not nervously do anything in front of those she is trying to negotiate with in canon, not even Thales. Strikes against canon: 92

- "[Bergliez] could only laugh in response. “I think we’re going to get along rather well, my lady…and the other?”" -> Except Bergliez and Edelgard don't get along well, ever. Pre ts they are stated to dislike each other, which continues even onto post ts with Bergliez being the only noble Edelgard couldn't bring to heel. Strikes against canon: 93

- As predicted: No one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Literally forgot Hubert was with Edelgard and Bergliez lmao

- Ionius tried to consolidate power to be rid of the consort system due to his unending love for Anselma -> A ridiculous idea, plain and simple. Ionius was Emperor. If he wished to be rid of the consort system there was no need for him to try and take away all power from the other Imperial houses.

- If Ionius truly loved Anselma, why did he allow her to be exiled from the Empire? Why didn't he step in and use his influence as Emperor to help her?

- Edelgard, when she is Emperor - passed down a supposedly empty crown, at that - showcases the all-encompassing power the title of Emperor truly holds to one willing to use that power. That Ionius supposedly wanted to do all of these reforms and yet nothing at all was done, ever (save for ruining Houses Hrym and Ordelia, something even this fic has as canon), if Ionius did want to make these reforms, means that he was too spineless and cowardly to truly go through with trying to pass them. This again unintentionally showcases how awful a ruler and weak-willed a person Ionius was when he had power when trying to paint him in this righteous light.

- Lambert was stated to be trying to pass reforms before he died in canon, not Ionius. From parents to the children, the author is attributing traits from Lambert onto Ionius just as he (author's confirmed gender is male) attributes traits from Dimitri onto Edelgard

- " Her father and mother…she had thought their romance a fairy tale-a story from her father to make a motherless child feel valued. But…they truly had loved each other." -> Edelgard does believe Ionius when he told her of the story of when he and Anselma (supposedly) met each other. There is nothing to indicate that Edelgard thought it to be a lie: in fact, in canon: "But I choose to believe there was genuine love between them." Strikes against canon: 94

- It seems as though finally, after around 18 chapters, Edelgard's scars will finally cause her genuine inconvenience due to her complex about them as well as her trust issues. She has a gash on her back from the Battle of Eagle and Lion, but will not have it treated if Manuela isn't the healer, and yet the woman is occupied dealing with the rest of the students who were injured. How will this fic deal with this?

- Ingrid, referring to her and Sylvain: ""We just switched from Felix lecturing us all day to listening to Edelgard moralizing, didn’t we?"" -> The author is trying to compare a childhood friend whose friends have had years to get used to their barbed tongue to a stranger that directly insults the dreams of one of them. Something which Ingrid canonically hates having be done to her, even from Felix, a childhood friend. Once again, Ingrid being so casual about Edelgard being so disrespectful of her dreams is out of character. Strikes against canon: 95

- "Sylvain shook his head knowingly, ignoring Felix’s truly alarming scowl. “You should have seen his face, Edelgard. Dimitri would go on and on about this girl he met when he was a kid…and Felix would complain about her for hours!” He looked at Felix and smiled. “For all his whining about the “Boar,” nobody loves Dimitri more than him.”" -> Oh? A romantic gay male relationship presenting itself within the fic?

- Another vision of SS experienced by Edelgard. Word from a nameless guard: "The woman, Byleth, leading their forces... She’s not human! She killed half my battalion with one swing of that sword of hers. She didn’t speak, she didn’t shout, she didn’t even change her expression!” The panicked man was teetering on the edge of hysteria. “All those people rallying around her, and it’s like she doesn’t care at all. Like she's a walking corpse!"" -> Obviously saying that Byleth becomes the Ashen Demon if not allowed to be with Edelgard.

- Unintentional statement: Byleth can't be the pure innocent (lesbian) woman without Edelgard's (lesbian) love granting her purity, reverting her to a monstrous, corrupt demon incapable of humanity

- See chapter 20 note: "Implying that choosing SS - aka, choosing the Nabateans - makes Byleth less human. Intentional?" Confirmed to be intentional. Also false: in canon, even when accounting for CF's lesser chapter count, Byleth emotes far more on SS than on CF, which matches with CF having Edelgard call Byleth detached in their A support. Strikes against canon: 96

- The same nameless soldier, same context: "And those Faerghus kids…” / Edelgard leaned forward in her chair. “Ingrid…Sylvain…what of them?” / “They…they were animals. Screaming and ranting about revenge for the King.” -> Is the author really demonizing Sylvain and Ingrid for (potentially!) being mad at Edelgard for murdering one of their childhood friends? Is that really the depths the Edelgard worship will sink to, that friends becoming enraged at a friend's unjust murder from a warlord is being portrayed as something sad for the warlord? Just what else should Edelgard be pitied for?

- "The scared girl desperately tried to drown out the thoughts that reverberated incessantly. / They’re going to despise us…it’s destiny. And how could they not? If we were truly good, the Goddess would have saved us…protected us. But She didn’t. The Goddess took Mother. She took our family. And soon, She’ll take everything else we love. She hates us. / It’s what we deserve." - Now confirmed that Edelgard hears multiple voices in her head tormenting her. That trait that, once again, Edelgard does not have... (Strikes against canon: 97)

- ...but Dimitri does. This is the third time this chapter that this has happened, and far from the only chapter to display such baffling characterization of Edelgard via Dimitri's traits. It is nonsensical.

- " Why had [Edelgard] even been born at all? Nonexistence would have been preferable to watching every faint dream be dashed, to suffering alone over and over. She was just…so tired of being alive." -> Once. Again. Suicidal tendencies/thoughts is not a trait Edelgard shows in canon... (Strikes against canon: 98)

- ...but Dimitri does. The fourth! The fourth time in one chapter the author desperately wanted to just write Dimitri!

- If the fic wanted to take Edelgard in a different direction than canon does and has her display some of these traits, it would be more passable, but this fic is under the delusion that it is in any way following canon closely, especially in regards to Edelgard, and so this can only be seen as a desperate attempt from the author to have Edelgard be sympathetic by donning the skin of an actually sympathetic character such as Dimitri

- "Edelgard looked at herself in the mirror. The back of her academy uniform was stained red, the rhythmic, soft dripping of blood assaulting the princess’ ears." -> And no one commented on this? No one was worried? Not Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix, who were sitting right by her? Not Lysithea, who saw her take the blow to her back and never get it healed? Not Dimitri, who delivered the blow? It just so happened that literally no one at all noticed this?

- Byleth literally slapped Edelgard on the back earlier? Wouldn't her hand come back red with blood if it were seeping through the uniform?

** The scene that follows the previous note is too long to quote, despite how truly terrible it is. Long quotes, even extremely long quotes, have been presented in these notes before, but the length this quotation would be if the full extent of it were written here would be a mess, and quite frankly, at that point it would do one better to simply go to the fanfiction itself and read the text from there. With the context received from these notes, if one wishes to see the words for themselves, go to chapter 21 of The Emperor and the Goddess, enter Ctrl + F (or Find in Page on mobile devices), and enter the phrase "Byleth crossed her arms, clearly frustrated" verbatim. The following note will not be quoting the entire scene from the fic (merely summarizing it), though context is needed to understand how truly bad the scene is. **

- To have hope in this fic performing anything correctly is proving to be a fool's dream, for it has yet to do anything right; that includes the aforementioned gash upon Edelgard's back. As stated, it did not draw the attention of those who were sitting around her nor did it draw the attention of the one who witnessed the injury itself, nor of the one who delivered the injury itself, so no one commented on the gaping, bleeding wound Edelgard was "hiding" from everyone as she turned her (bleeding) back to them and left for the baths to clean up (it must be heavily stressed: immediately after leaving it is revealed that the blood is seeping through her uniform). As she was washing - naked, of course - Byleth just so happened to step into the baths with only a towel wrapped around her "for modesty," much to the horror of Edelgard, for she does not want Byleth seeing her scarred body. A slight argument arises between the two over Edelgard getting her injuries checked, before Byleth warns Edelgard that she will go to Rhea and force her to go to the infirmary should Edelgard continue to refuse treatment, which drives Edelgard past the brink. She raises her arms from the bathwater and presents her scars (""Fine!... If you want to see so badly, here!""), to the horror of Byleth ("Byleth Eisner was not a woman given to strong emotional reactions, but she staggered back, hands over her mouth."). Edelgard cries in hysteria, fear of her beloved teacher running away in disgust over her ugly, mutilated body overwhelming her. But Byleth, childlike in her innocence, shared that she too is scarred in strange ways, and that she too is scared of failing those around her - that she has no ambitions save to help and protect those around her. Byleth reveals that it is Edelgard whom Byleth looks up to for always being so strong and always moving forward, and shows that without Edelgard Byleth wouldn't know how to handle the pressure everyone else puts on her. The exchange ends with Byleth reassuring Edelgard that she is beautiful and not the monster she thinks she is.

- There is no nice way of putting this: this is a classic example of how not to write someone opening up to another about something. Edelgard views herself as weak, ugly, repulsive, a monster, shameful, but it is Byleth's love and affection that gives her comfort and warmth, that gives her hope of something more. It forces Byleth to behave wildly out of character (the author can try to excuse this with "well she wouldn't normally behave like this!" all he wants, it doesn't matter when it goes against the base, canonical Byleth. Strikes against canon: 99) in order for Edelgard's scarred body to be seen as something that is repulsive, that is ugly, that is stained, so much so that the pure, childlike, innocent Byleth couldn't stand to see something so tainted. And yet it is that same pure, childlike, innocent Byleth's pure, innocent, childlike love that pushes away the pain of Edelgard's scars for just that moment. Other characters become suddenly blind and/or forgetful of Edelgard's obvious, bleeding wound so that it is Byleth who can be the one to save Edelgard with her pure, innocent, childlike presence and her pure, innocent, childlike uncertainty about her own insecurities (but only when it is convenient for Edelgard, as even Byleth didn't noticed the gaping, bleeding wound until she was alone with Edelgard where no one could interrupt their bonding moment). This scene is inorganic and forced, ham-fisting Edelgard and Byleth in the same room - the wash room, where both are either naked or nearly naked - so that Byleth is the one to find Edelgard, no one else. No one was worried enough about the sudden exit Edelgard took from the conversation she was having to follow her and make sure she was alright, and Byleth just so happened to enter the baths right after Edelgard. The scene is, to be frank, insulting.

- There have been a couple of joking references to a book titled Stones to Abigail in these notes, but in all seriousness, this scene plays unsettlingly similar to a scene in said book, where a scarred girl who is naked reveals her "ugly" and "revolting" scarred body to the love interest, who goes on to soothe and comfort the naked girl as best they can. The resemblance is uncanny

- Byleth described as childlike/innocent. Counter: 5

- Edelgard, in canon, never expresses feeling herself to be ugly, or repulsive, or a monster. Strikes against canon: 100

- Again, Edelgard's scars are only important when they are convenient - this time, in helping develop the romantic relationship between her and Byleth

- There are ways in which scars can be utilized without being problematic, but certainly not when this much focus is placed on them and yet they are only truly present when they cannot hinder Edelgard.

- Perhaps particularly insulting is this phrase from Edelgard: "Did she actually love Byleth at all, or just being saved by her?" Yes, Edelgard, you do simply want to be saved by Byleth, because that is precisely what the narrative has been drilling into the reader's heads ever since Byleth showed herself. Byleth is Edelgard's light, Byleth is Edelgard's hope, Byleth gives Edelgard back her humanity, Byleth is Edelgard's one source of joy, Byleth is Edelgard's entire life, and nothing, absolutely nothing in this fic has shown this to ever be a bad thing. This dependence on Byleth to bring Edelgard joy at the near complete expense of everyone else has been propped up as something romantic, and yet it's now, 21 chapters and over 85K+ words in, that we're supposed to believe that this was actually Edelgard being unhealthy? Even though the author himself said that this was what he enjoyed about their relationship, how much they found each other in each other? Even though we see what the author thinks would happen to the two of them should they separate - Edelgard, lonely and afraid without her beloved teach, and Byleth, the Ashen Demon who cares for nothing without her beloved student - in her visions of SS? This is a joke

- It cannot be overstated that Byleth came to the bathhouses completely independently of Edelgard. She did not come to specifically see her because she followed her out of worry for Edelgard due to her injury - she only knows that Edelgard's injured in the first place due to seeing bloody bandages that Edelgard removed in the bathhouse, before Byleth arrived.

- Author's notes: "On Bergliez, we find out very little in-game, but he 1) offers himself for execution so his men can go free in SS and 2) seems to be actually competent at his job. I thought a nuanced portrayal was more interesting, since I've been writing Aegir as the absolute worst person in the world." -> Note: this is what the author believes to be a nuanced take on someone. Someone who likes Edelgard entirely and does nearly whatever they can to help her, but they did one thing that's morally gray (leaving a child behind to save his own children from the same fate) that is portrayed as objectively bad, so now they are nuanced. While perhaps this sort of character would be truly nuanced in better hands, as it is with his actions being portrayed as something that is obviously so completely and utterly wrong and him someone who deserves complete and utter condemnation - and yet Ionius, who does far worse for far less understandable reasons, gets a comparative slap on the wrist - it causes confusion as to Edelgard's lines. Bergliez seeing her the one time and never helping her is enough for her to want to hurt him as she was hurt, but her father repeatedly coming to and "being forced" to watch her actively be tortured and doing nothing does little to invoke similar depths of resentment? Even granting the idea that "she gives more slack to her father," Ionius is objectively and far worse than Bergliez, down to doing hard things to protect their children, and yet it is only Bergliez who is shined in this unpleasant a light

- To be clear, Bergliez's decision was not a good one, but understandable. It is a gray decision to make. But notice how he is called "gray" and "nuanced" and yet Ionius is nearly completely innocent, as described by the author himself, despite their being no given explaination as to why "he was a figurehead" should be a good enough reason to wash him literally standing there and watching as his children - some of whom aren't even teens yet - get slowly tortured and killed.

- "There are many localization changes I understand (Byleth wanting to get drunk after the battle is one of them), but Treehouse's decision to remove Ionius' entire reason for power centralization (eliminating the consorts) was a big, big mistake." -> Given the history of this author's grasp on the Japanese language, this needs to be checked, as he cannot be trusted as a source as to whether this is true

******* Notes of Claude mischaracterization: Chapter 21, section 1, paragraphs 1, 21 & 23, 27 *******

[kinetic-elaboration]

August 15: 2x03 The Paradise Syndrome

I have seen this episode once before and I remember it being pretty awful... but tbh, I didn’t think it was so bad this time around. Maybe that’s just because my expectations were, like, Spock’s-Brain low. It definitely had issues but there was stuff I liked too!

Hmmm, that’s not the bridge. It appears to be... California?

Wondering what people might be so “blessed by this environment”--what a manly he-man action/adventure guy thing to say, amirite?

How does Spock know the significant markers of all the Native American tribes at a distance, off the top of his head?

(Answer: he doesn’t; all of this information is wrong and also one of those tribes is completely made up lmao.)

Honestly, who’s to say these people aren’t advanced? How do YOU know?

“Just so peaceful... no command decisions.” Oh no, Jim’s feeling Romantic again.

Honestly, imagine this characterization in AOS: overworked starship captain think he wants a break (but is wrong). Beyond made a vague attempt but missed what it is that Kirk finds stressful about command--it’s not that it’s boring, it’s the weight of the responsibility and the inability to find love.

Although funnily enough, even on his Native American Vacation, he still finds himself in a command position. He just can’t be stopped. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Oh no, the obelisk ate him.

Maybe these people specifically built the obelisk so that they could return to this idyllic ““primitive”“ state, hmm? Maybe they like their lives this way. Maybe they experienced "progress" and then decided that whatever era of their development looked like indigenous American peoples had it right. (This is not correct but it roughly is the plot of Errand of Mercy so I’m not without precedent.)

Spock’s using simple tools to explain his point to Bones lol. “Here, let me dumb it down for you, lesser man of science.”

“Who am I? What are these?” Cpine morning voice: “This must be a dream!”

Kirk looks so confused. The god from the obelisk.

“The engines are showing signs of stress.” Seems to me like SCOTTY’S showing signs of stress.

And yet the music is so whimsical.

Honestly Kirk’s expression here = Denny Crane’s when in a meeting

White man brings CPR, is hailed as god. (I wish I were making this up.)

Damn, Salish has been demoted. How embarrassing for him.

This is a VERY interesting Spock. He does all his calculations, but the he takes all the risks. He’s very certain and single-minded, almost obsessed, not afraid of anything. I think it’s IC but I also think you can see some Kirk influence, perhaps... You can see how Spock has grown in his command abilities since The Galileo Seven.

The wise ones = the aliens.

“He died before he could tell Salish the secret” to opening the Obelisk and stopping the asteroid. That IS unfortunate.

“How does this shirt open?” Lol.

“Your name is Kirok?” “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“I’ve never been this happy and peaceful.” Funny how he looks neither happy nor peaceful. Maybe it’s something like “I’ve never been this happy and peaceful...and I don’t like it.” Or “I’ve never been this happy and peaceful... there must be something wrong.”

“Here there is much time. For everything.” No there isn’t, there’s an asteroid coming.

Kirk’s cottage core fantasy.

Poor Scotty, so stressed out. Maybe he needs some time with the indigenous aliens.

The Joining Day? Lol okay.

Kirk has no chill, at all. “Oh, you want to get married? Tomorrow? Okay!!” Is this how Gary was able to successfully distract with him the blonde lab technician?

The “stardrive.”

“Estimated repair time?” “FOREVER.”

“And you lost Jim.” Cool it Bones, there’s no need to be cruel. Spock’s already in his thinking pose so you know he’s taking this seriously.

Love Spock’s chair. That’s not Starfleet regulation.

“I have found paradise.” Is he high??

Requisite highly choreographed fight scene.

“You’ve barely eaten or slept for weeks.” That’s because he’s worried about Jim. And the giant asteroid. This is a great Spock and McCoy scene though.

I can’t believe this. Spock lies down (barely!) and McCoy just leaves like he actually thinks he’s won, and then Spock immediately gets up again to go back to work.This guy is even easier to fool than Sarek.

You know Spock spent his whole adolescence going "Sure, I'll do the thing" and then just not doing it.

“A strange lodge that moves through the sky...” Well okay.

Okay I’m sorry, is he sensing the enterprise or is he sensing SPOCK? Because most of this dialogue might just imply he’s generically remembering his old life... but he also specifically says that the “flying lodge” was farther away and now it’s closer again, and how he could he know that otherwise?

She’s pregnant? That’s not good lol. AWKWARD.

Also the closest that TOS will ever come to acknowledging people have sex.

Omg he made a lamp. He made a lamp on his first day there. Does this imply that Captain Kirk had an arts and crafts phase?? Like CPR I understand him knowing--I’m sure everyone in Starfleet does. But hand-carving a lamp? That’s a whole other skill.

Various cultures including “certain Vulcan offshoots” use music notes as words omgggggg I love this information PLEASE tell me more.

“The Preservers” is a good concept imo. Nifty sci fi innovation: taking aliens from endangered places and giving them a new place, then setting it up nicely for them.

Stop throwing things guys! It’s not helping!

“I need Nurse Chapel.” Damn right you do.

Spock really doesn’t like that “wife.” He sounds like “Wife?? How dare??”

Then he suggests it’s a hallucination even though there’s a woman right there.

"Naturally, since he did not come from there. He's my man, get your paws off him."

Vulcan mind fusion? What the heck is that? How is it season 3 and they still don’t know what to call it?

“He is an extremely dynamic individual.” Spock was really taken for a ride in that brain.

“The landing party is expendable.” There’s the Captain.

“I have an excellent eye for musical notes.” Brag.

“Just press the right button.”

Looks like Spock was the god they wanted all along.

Okay, that was an uncool ending though. I know they basically had to kill Miramanee as soon as she was pregnant but like, there was also no reason for her to be pregnant??? I would have preferred if (1) Miramanee hadn't been pregnant, (2) Jim got over her as soon as he regained his memory and (3) she lived and they just parted awkwardly.

Also I think it would have been nice if they had ended with the Enterprise explaining to Salish how the obelisk works, and then maybe even a hint that he and Miramanee will get back together. Like, maybe not that, since I’m not a fan of women just being used to, like, make men feel better--though I’m also not a fan of them being fridged because of Inconvenient Baby--but he should have at least gotten his position back and, more importantly, the knowledge he was always entitled to. Also, the very existence of an asteroid deflector, along with the people’s extensive knowledge of what weather signifies Oncoming Asteroid, implies this happens to them with some frequency. So in other words, the threat will return.

Plus Salish never got enough credit for being right, which he was! The whole time!

Oh and also I would have liked some acknowledgement that Jim does like being Captain. If you watch the whole show, you know that he occasionally bemoans the stress and his inability to maintain a romantic relationship, despite his love of long walks on the beach, but that he’s also ambitious, he loves exploration and adventure, he gets bored if left in one place too long, and he believes in the necessity of progress and discovery to keep not just individuals but societies from stagnation. But if you just watched this episode, you’d think he’d never been happy in his entire life, and that returning to command makes him miserable.

Aside from the Native American stuff--which was awkward and rather unnecessary and has aged, as you might imagine, very very poorly--I actually didn’t hate the episode. It had some VERY interesting Spock stuff, which I think is within a reasonable Spock characterization, and some great Spock and Bones moments. Kirk’s story line was surprisingly engaging for him being completely separate from the crew, and the general theme that he sometimes needs, or thinks he desires, a break from command, is definitely in keeping with other episodes. I liked the asteroid as the Big Danger, which was surprisingly dynamic--by which I mean, it did a good job of connecting the very disparate story lines on the Enterprise and on the planet. I also liked the Sci Fi Concept of the week in the Protectors. And it was interesting to see an ep take place over a longer period of time.

None of this is to downplay how awkward the Native American elements are--incredibly fetishistic, and also lazy--like, “I want to show something Simple and Idyllic...I know! Indians!” There was no reason they should look like American Indians. In fact, it makes no sense that they do: the Protectors take peoples from planets that are about to be destroyed and (somehow) discreetly move them somewhere else, but Native American peoples still.... very much exist? And so does Earth as a whole. So obviously these aliens weren’t transplanted from Earth. So why should their culture resemble some awkward mishmash of Native American cultures?

So overall I’d say, the ideas of the episode, the structure, the characterizations (mostly), and the overall ideas were good, but it was just very awkward and unfortunate that it chose the... aesthetic that it did--especially because it was very much an aesthetic choice and not a well-thought-out, culturally sensitive one. Gonna be honest and just chalk that up to it being 1968 though.

Next is And the Children Shall Lead, which I actually think was one of the first TOS eps I ever saw... But I don’t remember it at all.  So we’ll see!

[sithsecrets]

A Matter of Expediency - Part XI

After being married off to Kylo Ren in the name of securing an heir to the First Order’s throne, a princess tries to navigate the ins and outs of married life. As she grows closer to her new husband, the princess also carves out a place for herself in the Order, assuming control over her life when she thought she would have none.

—

Part 11

4.5k words

Mentions: pregnancy, swearing, mild sexual content, discussions of past relationships, menstruation

—

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask your husband, hesitantly settling in his lap as he starts up his TIE-fighter, flipping switches and pushing buttons.

“Oh yes,” Kylo assures you, absently pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I would never put your in danger.”

You’re still not convinced, unsure about two people galivanting through space in a one-man vessel, but Kylo’s arm is strong around your waist, his words comforting. And honestly, you’re too excited to really be bothered, thrumming with anticipation at the notion of zooming around the ship with your husband after hours.

Kylo is careful as he guides your ship out of the hangar, exiting the Supremacy with care. But as soon as the two of you are fully out in the inky expanse of space, he punches the accelerator, sending the little craft off at an exhilarating speed. You giggle as Kylo whips you around the ship, squealing when he makes sharp twists and turns with master precision. Hux had told you that your husband was an excellent pilot, but you had no idea what that really meant, accustomed to traveling on casual transport vessels. But Kylo is being anything but casual, telling you to hold on as he executes rolls and loops and other tricks that make your heart jump up in your throat.

Clutching onto your husband tightly, you’re absolutely delighted to realize that he’s enjoying himself too, grinning against the side of your face as he tells you to brace yourself before he does something complex. Stars, he even laughs, the sound of his joy coming from deep in his chest. He loves this, you realize, loves to fly. Your husband, a serious man, a man with little time to himself and so much to do, loves to go out and do the one thing that probably makes him feel truly and supremely free. And what’s better still, he’s decided to share this hobby of his with you.

By the time Kylo lands the TIE back in hangar two, you’re breathless and giddy, flushed with elation from all that’s just happened. As soon as Kylo pops the door open to give the both of you a bit more air, you’re on him in an instant, pressing kisses to his face as you laugh and laugh. He kisses you back, holding you and smiling into your mouth.

“Did you have fun?” Kylo asks, finally peeling you away from him.

“More fun than I’ve ever had in my life!” you exclaim, turning to fall back against his chest with a sigh. Wistfully, you add, “Oh, we should do that every night.”

Your husband settles his arms around your middle, nuzzling into your hair. “If the Empress commands it, then so it shall be.”

You smile at that but say nothing, content to stare out at the stars glittering in the distance before you. Kylo’s got his little craft positioned so that the two of you can gaze out the back of the hangar, safe inside the climate preservers and blastshields. The two of you hold one another for a long while, sitting in comfortable silence until Kylo finally speaks.

“Did you have any lovers before me?” he asks, settling you in his lap.

“I told you the night we wed that you were my first,” you reply, brows drawing together in confusion. You thought the whole thing had been rather unforgettable, but maybe that was because you were the one who wiped a bit of blood from between your legs when all was said and done.

“Well of course,” Kylo says quickly, sensing your disconcertment. “But did you have any other… beloveds? A boyfriend, or just someone who cared for you?”

You shake your head. “No. Mila was very good at turning others against me, and there are many beautiful girls my age in my husband’s court. Everyone passed over me, I think.”

Kylo kisses the top of your head upon hearing this, arms holding your tighter. He hesitates as he goes to speak though, almost as if he’s choosing his words carefully. “Even the women who attended to you?”

You balk at that, caught off-guard by the question. Memories flit through your mind like flashes of light, and for the first time in years, you think of Sabe’s hands, of the way her lips felt on your neck. The two of you had been so young then, barely Helda’s age when you first kissed each other in the dark. It was an innocent little tryst for the most part, two teenagers sneaking into each other’s beds to make out for a couple of hours while everyone else was asleep. There was only one time that something “serious” happened between the two of you, something that was a bit more than simple kissing. You had been so nervous when Sabe opened the front of your nightgown, self-conscious about your body back then. But her mouth was warm and soft and wet as she suckled at your breast, laving her tongue across your nipples in a way that made you sweat. She never touched you, never actually made you cum, but that was the first time you can remember really wanting to have sex with someone. No promises were made, you never courted one another, but you would be lying if you said there wasn’t a bit of puppy love at play all those years ago. Obviously, though, the little fling ended, fizzling out with the heat of the summer months. You thought Sabe had moved on forever and a day ago, but you’ve been rethinking the idea of that since her little post-engagement explosion.

“I see,” Kylo says softly, breaking you from your thoughts. Embarrassment washes over you then, staining your cheeks with crimson— he saw what you were thinking about.

“I don’t miss her,” you say at once, rushing to explain lest your husband mistake your reminiscing for longing or pining. “We were virtual children then, curious and bored and accessible to one other. I just don’t like how we ended our friendship is all. Sabe was very angry when I said I wanted to marry you, even after you offered me a chance to break things off. Myself and my other ladies ended up having a fight with her about it, and it was ugly. She was ugly.”

Kylo gives you a squeeze around the middle, comforting and companionable. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug, mildly upset and completely unaffected all at the same time. The little relationship you had with Sabe is all water under the bridge, old news from years ago that you look back on with fondness. But her cruel comments towards yourself and Lydia have not faded with time, and they still sour your image of her overall.

Tired of thinking about the matter, you shake your head to clear away of images of Sabe, of her mean eyes and her soft mouth. Reaching a hand back to toy with a lock of your husband’s hair, you decide it’s his turn in the hot seat.

“What about you?” you ask, inquiring about his past relationships. “I’m sure you had many beautiful lovers before me.”

Kylo plays it modest, simply saying, “I took women to my bed on occasion, yes, but they were never anyone special.”

You won’t let him get away that easily, though, pressing for details. “Who did you sleep with?”

Once again, your husband is casual, speaking the truth without boasting. “Women I met through diplomatic work, mostly. The parties and the dinners, you know how it is.”

In actuality, you don’t know how it is, but you nod companionably nonetheless. You’re an adult— you understand the basic premise of what he’s saying.

“You never had girlfriends, lovers you saw regularly?”

A shake of the head, and then, “None of them interested me. But I certainly didn’t string anyone along. I watch officers do that to people all the time, and it disgusts me to no end. My intentions were always clear from the outset.”

You admire and respect that sentiment, pleased to hear that your husband never went through a womanizing phase like so many men of station do. And not because he wasn’t desired, either, for you’re sure the women (and men) flung themselves at Kylo back in the day the same way they do now.

Your final question is perhaps your most invasive, but you think Kylo won’t be offended if you ask it. “What was your first time like?”

“When I was twenty-two, Supreme Leader Snoke sent me to negotiate a treaty on Valdera,” Kylo begins. “As you know, the President of Valdera and his Parliament like to partake in quite a bit of… merrymaking when they receive guests. They threw me a feast, and many important officials were there. Nearly all of them were drunk before we even began eating, but I didn’t feel comfortable becoming inebriated amongst strangers.”

You nod, pressing a kiss to your husband’s knuckles to show that you’re listening.

“Anyway, as I was having dinner and trying to ignore all of the foolishness going on around me, I felt as though I was being watched. When I looked down the table, I saw that it was a woman who was staring at me. She was seated in a dignitary’s lap, and I thought at first that she was his wife. But then I noticed that other women had come to the table as well, and I understood at once that she was some sort of concubine. Or a prostitute, maybe. In any case, she was very beautiful, and I could see everything she was picturing in her head as she looked me over.”

“She was fantasizing about you,” you say, and not without a bit of jealously. This woman is long gone, a relic of Kylo’s past, but you still can’t help yourself from being a bit miffed.

Your husband must sense the change in your mood, because he draws you closer to his chest, laughing lightly. “Yes, you possessive little thing, she was.”

Though you’re not ready to be done sulking just yet, you crack a smile nonetheless, unable to stay mad when Kylo’s teasing you and nuzzling his nose against your ear.

“Naturally,” Kylo continues, “I was a bit taken aback, but I didn’t say anything there at the table. A few hours later, I retired to my rooms for the night, and she came knocking not long after. I was unsure of myself, but I let her in anyway. She said she was there to spend the night with me, a gift from the President himself. I told her at once that she wasn’t obligated, that she didn’t have to stay if she wasn’t truly willing, but she was insistent, putting her hands all over me as she told me that she was tired of fucking old men. I warned her that I wouldn’t be much of a partner, given my inexperience, but she said that was no matter.

“She taught me much that night. All of the ways a man can fuck a woman, what to do with my hands and my mouth… She probably enjoyed the sex more than I did that first night, but I tried my best to please her.”

“I’m sure you did just fine,” you tell your husband, unable to fathom him being a bad fuck. “Did you see her again after that?”

“Yes, but only for the remainder of my stay.”

You pause, hesitant to hear the answer to this next question. “… Did you care for her? Or any of the others?”

Kylo says nothing for a moment, rearranging in his lap so that you two may look at one another a bit better. His face is set, expression serious as he cradles your cheek delicately in his palm. “I always treated my partners with respect, but none of them ever meant anything to me, not really.”

For just a moment there, in the chill of the hangar, you feel safe enough to lay bare one of the soft spots on your heart. “Do I mean something to you?” you whisper, too afraid to ask any louder than that.

“You are my wife,” Kylo replies, caressing your skin. You kiss your husband then, heart bursting at this quiet, almost unspoken admission of his love for you.

The two of you retire to bed not long after that, walking hand in hand back to your quarters. Kylo lets you hold him so tightly that night, falling asleep with his face pressed against your chest. You breathe in the scent of his hair as you nod off, warm and content.

---

Palgodu is just entering its winter months, the air nipping at your exposed face and ears as you walk up the steps of the royal castle. Snow hasn’t fallen yet, thankfully, but you step lightly anyway, not wanting to graze over an icy patch and go tumbling. Kylo is by your side, of course, shrouded in a black as per usual. He keeps you close, probably trying to warm you up himself even though you’re draped in furs and thick fabrics. The two of your take in the great castle before you together, noting the fine stonework and carpentry. It’s a sturdy building, built no doubt to keep warmth in and invaders out. Guards are lined up all along the front of the place, armed to the teeth. They may be there for you and Kylo’s benefit, a welcoming party of sorts, but you doubt it. If your planet just ended a civil war, you’d keep yourself covered on all sides as well.

King Eli awaits you and Kylo as soon as you enter the castle, grinning broadly as he welcomes the both of you to his home. The first thing you notice about the King is his size, for he is tall and wide, made exclusively of thick slabs of muscle. He would be imposing with his full beard and beastly hands, you think, if his demeanor were not so warm.

You and Kylo amble through a corridor just off the castle’s entrance hall, following in the King’s wake. You pass many tapestries along the way, precious pieces of handiwork that seem to depict the history of Palgodu. They turn your head, these works of art, and you find yourself studying them intently until you’re shown into a small receiving room at the end of the hall.

The first thing you feel when you lay eyes on the Queen Eleanor is envy. Before she even so much as speaks, you’re plagued with it, the jealousy you feel so white-hot in your veins that you’re afraid your skin will glow from the heat. She is heavy with child, the Queen, her stomach round and swollen underneath the skirt of her gown. To make matters worse, the bundle of blankets that she clutches to her chest is squirming, confirming that she already has a little one out here in the world as well. And then a young girl dashes out from the corner of the room, giggling as she evades being picked up by her nurse, and you feel as though you might actually burst into tears.

It’s idiotic, you know, to be jealous of a woman simply because she has children, but you can’t help the way your mind rages at the sight of Queen Eleanor and all the bounty of her womb. She has so much of what you want, so much of what you’re worried you’ll never be able to have. Still, it’s impossible to hate her for long— the Queen, like her husband, is just far too kind.

She welcomes you with open arms, beaming as she declares that she feels as if the both of you already know each other. And you sort of do, you suppose, given how much you’ve communicated these past few weeks. Like you, Queen Eleanor handles her regime’s charitable efforts, and you’ve spoken at length over comm about donations and food and a myriad of other subjects. She’s practical and a bit headstrong, passionate about protecting those who rely on her and her husband for help.

“I apologize for not meeting you right when you arrived,” Eleanor says to you. “The baby needed to eat, and Maudie is always so restless when she’s forced to stand still.”

Finally, you snap out of you sad little trance, remembering where you are and what you’re doing. “Oh please, don’t be sorry,” you reply, waving her off with a gesture and a sweet little laugh.

Though your feeling of envy pass quickly, the sudden burst of intense emotion does leave you feeling disoriented. The rest of the afternoon is mostly a blur, and you barely feel like you’re there as you and Kylo dress for dinner. You must put up a good front though, because neither Miriam nor Kylo says anything as about your demeanor as they interact with you.

Dinner consists of a large feast, and you’re grateful for the crowd around the table. There’s much talking and laughing, and you’re able to shrink back into the noise, more content with observing rather than participating tonight. You do feel a bit better though, fortified by your warm meal and a few sips of wine. And of course, Queen Eleanor continues to be a lovely friend, trying to rope you into conversations regarding the upcoming charity gala that the two of you have worked so hard on.

Just as you’re digging into your dessert, however, you feel it, that round, aching pain that most women know all too well. Your good mood evaporates immediately, overtaken by an empty sort of melancholy that’s even more painful than the cramping in your abdomen. Keenly aware of your audience (and the fact that you’re wearing black), you try desperately not to let your emotions show on your face. And stars does that take all you have, the task made even more arduous by the fact that your husband sits beside you. You don’t want him to perceive the shift in your mood, so you must guard your thoughts more closely than ever before.

Mercifully, your mask never slips, your defenses do not fail, and you’re able to excuse yourself from the table with ease. In a surprising turn of events, Kylo actually accepts King Eli’s invitation to play cards, and watching your husband walk away from you is perhaps the biggest relief of all in this moment.

The walk back to your chambers is relatively short, but your limbs are so heavy as you make the journey. Miriam is there waiting for you, but you have no heart to perform for her, stumbling into the ‘fresher with little more than a weary ‘hello’. When you check , your underwear are stained, just as you suspected. And though you already knew what happened the moment you felt your stomach cramp up at the table, this confirmation of your worst fear makes you breakdown completely.

Cleaning yourself up sloppily, you leave the ‘fresher with tears in your eyes, startled to find Miriam there in the doorway when you try to go back to the bedroom. She’s poised to get you whatever you may need, mouth already forming the words, “What can I do for you?” when the two of you lock eyes. You don’t know why you do it, but you collapse into Miriam’s arms right there, offering no explanation for your actions as you dissolve into sobs.

“What’s the matter?” you attendant asks quickly, supporting your weight as you sag against her. Miriam’s hands are on your back, in your hair, rubbing and petting and trying in vain to soothe you.

You draw back from Miriam’s chest, hiccupping pathetically. “I started my period,” you tell her, and the fact that you sound like a distraught twelve-year-old girl is not lost on you in the moment.

Miriam looks confused for a moment, asking, “Did you—?” But then her face dissolves into a look of sympathetic understanding, and she puts her arms around you again. “Oh. Oh, my lady.”

You beg for a bath, unable to do anything else as your attendant holds you close. Miriam does as you ask, letting the hot water run as she unlaces your gown and lets down your hair. Trying to be useful, you take off your jewelry on your own, but even this small task feels insurmountable in the midst of your breakdown.

The heat of your bathwater feels like a warm hug against your skin, but not even this serves to soothe your aching heart. Drawing your knees up to your chest, you curl in on yourself, choking on your own tears and sniffles. Miriam allows you to have a moment, sitting patiently by the bathtub as you settle yourself. Finally, she speaks.

“What’s the matter?” she asks softly, reaching out to stroke your hair again. You don’t brush her off, though your tone is less than charitable.

“I already told you,” you reply curtly, hugging your legs closer.

Miriam maintains her composure, speaking gently. “I know. But I have a feeling that this is about something more than a bit of blood in your underwear, Empress.”

Swallowing thickly, you contemplate whether or not you want to get into all of this right now. But Miriam is your only resource, really, the only older woman in your life that may be able to offer you a bit of advice.

“I just want to be pregnant,” you finally croak, voice raw from crying for so long. Miriam sighs at that, nodding solemnly.

“I know, my lady,” she says companionably, still carding her fingers through your hair. “Has the Supreme Leader said something to you? Gotten angry or expressed his dissatisfaction?”

“No,” you say quickly, moving to sit up now. Your head pounds, clogged with congestion from all your crying. “It’s… it’s the Queen.”

Miriam starts at that, eyes ablaze, her tone indignant. “Queen Eleanor said something to you?”

You can’t help but laugh then, touched by your attendant’s defense of you. “No,” you say, any joy you experienced just now dissipating. “She’s a lovely person, it’s just… It’s just her children. She has so many, and I—”

“And you have none,” Miriam cuts softly, finishing your sentence for you. You nod, chewing on your bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“I just don’t understand it,” you declare, utterly bewildered. Miriam lathers up a rag, washing your body as she listens to you talk. “Kylo and I have sex nearly every night it feels like. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!”

“It’s not about what you’re doing,” Miriam soothes, rinsing you with her hands. “Sometimes these things just take time, that’s all.”

You throw a look Miriam’s way, eyebrows raised. “It only takes once.”

Miriam laughs a bit at that, nodding. “Yes,” she concedes, “technically once is enough. But that’s not the case for everyone.”

That makes you sigh, mostly because you know she’s right. Still, you can’t help but feel betrayed by your body, by your womb.

“Have I ever told you about the first woman I ever served?” Miriam asks, redirecting your attention away from your thoughts.

“No.”

“She was a senator’s wife,” your attendant begins, pouring shampoo into her hand now, “and she was desperate to get pregnant from the moment she got married. Like you, though, it didn’t happen for her right away, and she became rather upset. She began doing anything she could to conceive after a few months, drinking these disgusting teas, standing on her head after she and her husband had sex— just all sorts of nonsense. But after a year, she still had no child. Doctors assured her that she wasn’t barren, but of course she thought otherwise.

“After a lot of crying and wasting away in her bed, my mistress decided to just put the whole thing out of her mind. It destroyed her to do so, but she decided that perhaps she wasn’t supposed to be a mother. But do you know what happened after she quit fixating on the idea of getting pregnant?”

“She got pregnant,” you answer, already seeing where Miriam’s going with this story. She nods, confirming that you’re correct.

“That’s right. She went on to have another three children after she had that first baby, and they were all healthy and beautiful.” Miriam hooks her fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at her. “The same way yours will be. But you must relax, Empress. If you fester in this desire to bear a child, the stress will prevent you from getting the very thing you want so badly.”

You want to argue, to say that you aren’t working yourself up into a frenzy about having a baby, but that’s simply not the truth. You think of conceiving each and every time you and Kylo make love, you pray and yearn and hope as you as you wash him off your body. You even dream of it sometimes, giving birth, and not all of the things you see in your head are pleasant.

“Just enjoy being with your husband,” Miriam advises, almost as if she can read your mind. “If you relax and allow yourself to let go when the two of you make love, a baby will come quickly. I promise.”

You desperately want to believe you attendant, but your own anxiety forces you to remain unconvinced. Still, you’re grateful for the reassurance, figuring that everything will be brighter in the morning.

Kylo comes back from his card game not an hour after you get out of the tub, kissing you soundly as he grumbles about drunken aristocrat and a particularly poor hand that came his way during the event. You almost tell him about your little episode but ultimately refrain from doing so, figuring that it’s not worth the trouble. Still, your husband is intuitive as ever, asking you if everything’s all right as the two of you retire to bed.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” you tell him, more than happy to snuggle down under his arm.

Kylo doesn’t press the matter, though you’re not sure he believes you. But he holds you close anyway, shielding you from the chill of the room.

That night, you dream that you’re running all through the Supremacy, chasing after a small child that giggles and squeals as they continuously evade your grasp. It’s frustrating, for they always seem to be just ahead of you, just around the corner or already running down the next hall over.

Just as you get close enough to grab the back of the child’s shirt, you wake up.

[zhanenaomi]

It must be exhausting to be so weird all the time

Earlier, I saw a clip on the BBC Facebook page of Original Flava (a British-Caribbean duo creating recipes), making some bbq jerk burgers. As is my bad habit, I checked the comments for the inevitable racist comment about the BBC trying to be “woke” for showing people that black people exist in the UK. There I found a random account, posting a youtube clip of the late Dame Vera Lynn singing ‘Land of Hope and Glory’. This comment was obviously in reference to the fact that the BBC recently announced that ‘Rule Britannia’ and ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ would be performed without words at the Proms (only for this year). This, again obviously, is the fault of all black people (including Original Flava) and absolutely NOTHING to do with the fact that we are in a global pandemic of a virus that is easily spread by loud singing. The thing that disturbs me most about these comments is less the blanket assumption that all black people just sit around foaming at the mouth at the sheer idea of colonial lyricism, and more that this random person had clearly just copied the link to this video to post on any video they saw with a black person in it. Whether that video was about black people barbecuing, black people singing, black people talking about the economy, they were ready to own us with a youtube video of a song literally none of us will click on and listen to. It just made me think, surely it is exhausting to be so weird all the time?

Now, comments like this are admittedly pretty harmless, especially given the fact that they present that the person commenting is much more hurt than anyone else in this situation. However, by far the most disturbing thing I saw in the BBC comments that day, was on a Children in Need post. BBC Children in Need announced that they would specifically be donating £10 million to black children (a thing that is reasonably necessary given that 46% of BAME children live in poverty) (also this will be going over the course of 10 years, not a one time payment). By all intents and purposes, it is highly likely that vast amounts of Children in Need money were already going to black communities, given they go to… British children that are in need. The post in question was clarifying on false reports that they were giving money directly to the Black Lives Matter organisation, and in response many people said that since the BBC were now giving money to black children, they would no longer give money to the BBC. This, despite the fact that Children in Need fundraises year-round, and raised almost £50 million during their official appeal night last year and has raised more than £1 billion since 1980, and so £10 million over ten years is likely a drop in the ocean for this organisation. Way to throw your toys out of the pram, right guys? “If disadvantaged black kids are getting my money, then no disadvantaged kids are getting my money”! What a bizarre world view to have! It must take up a lot of time and energy to not only decide that giving money to disadvantaged children of colour in a country where they’re more likely to be disadvantaged than white children is racist for some reason, but then also to camp out in random Facebook comment sections talking about how you hate this alleged racism so much that you will be boycotting a charity because of it. Remarkably wild. Amazingly wild. Incredibly wild.

The last Facebook comment section weirdness I want to talk about is the reaction to news involving arrests, crime, and police brutality, most specifically the “If you do nothing wrong, the police will leave you alone” argument. First of all, tell that to yer man Harry Maguire. Second of all, there is police data stating that between March and May, you know, those months when we were knee deep in the throes of a global pandemic that is disproportionately killing black people, 21,950 stops and searches on young black men were carried out in the capital, approximately 80% of which lead to no further action. So if we’re keeping score, not only is the most expensive defender in the world not exempt from being harassed by police when his account suggests no wrongdoing on his part, but around 18,000 young black men were put directly in harms way by being searched by police without masks (and obviously without social distancing) in the midst of a pandemic, for no crime other than being black and maybe having a nice car. The reason I bring up Harry Maguire is because I would assume that most British people believe and support Harry Maguire over the Greek police, and none of them would ever use the “no crime, no police intervention” argument towards a news story about him. You know, like they did when George Floyd died. The point here is that people in these comments like to pretend that they are indiscriminate. They like to say “I don’t care if you’re rich, poor, black, white, gay, straight (insert identity here), if you’re getting arrested you must have done something wrong” which is simply just not true, and the fact that you don’t say these things when a white British footballer is brutally arrested is very telling. It shows who you assume to have being “doing crime” when they were apprehended versus who you assume to be innocent until proven guilty. Because the fact of the matter is that you DO care whether someone is black or white or poor or rich and the like, you obviously do. And its weird to lie about it to save face in Facebook comments. Ain’t you tired, Miss Hilly? (I’m assuming you all understand that reference given the unnecessarily large amounts of people who rushed to watch The Help after the BLM protests began earlier this year).

These things are all interconnected, because I’m sure that these keyboard warriors had some similarly angry takes when Stormzy offered scholarships to black students aiming to go to Cambridge University, and love to talk about “black on black crime” when black people are invited onto news outlets to talk about institutional racism in the police force. What this comes down to, is a clear lack of critical thinking and a clear racial bias. We know that crimes like theft and drug dealing tend to be crimes of necessity. No one steals bread and milk for the “thrill of the chase”. Poverty and crime are intrinsically linked. So why are you so hellbent on preventing black people from receiving assistance to escape poverty? If you want crime to reduce, then you should also want poverty to reduce, this is just the truth. If you don’t see how crime in black communities links to socioeconomic status in these black communities, then you probably (consciously or unconsciously) believe that nothing can be done to help black people; we are just inherently bad, born with a criminal gene. Suffice to say, this is a racist thought to have. Even when black people do manage to “pull ourselves up by our bootstraps” this also does not mean we’ll be treated favourably by the general public. The nation’s favourite punching bag is a black woman who was born into a low income household, attended Cambridge University, worked in the Civil Service and became the first black female MP in this country; this is of course Diane Abbott, who unfortunately receives half of all the abuse sent to female MPs overall.

Although I started out joking about how these people are just weird, the more I write, the more uncomfortable I feel. Is there a way out? Is there anyway we can win? Is our destiny to win the bet, just to be shot in the face by our loan sharks and have our proverbial jewellery shop ransacked (metaphor working on the assumption of your knowledge of the film Uncut Gems)? Its one thing to say weird things in video comments, it’s another to actually truly believe them. In the wake of the recent shooting of Jacob Blake, I’ve witnessed a spate of comments making statements about the case that are simply not true – things that have never been reported by the police or any credible news outlets. What do you gain from lying about these things? I guess you gain more public distrust in the black community and more animosity towards BLM protesters. I assume that’s what these people are aiming for, since I can see no personal benefit to lying about a case (unless you are the actual police officers involved in the shooting?). I actively try and stop myself from hopping into comment sections now because honestly and truly, it’s one of the most exhausting things to see hundreds of people talk about how bored they are of black people appearing on their screens. I’m sorry that my presence tires you out, guys. I’ve been staying off of Twitter because it’s good for my mental health to not be dialled into the ~discourse~ 24/7. It’s sad the way that these things often make black people feel that they are the ones who need to pull away in order to protect themselves. Dawn Butler has tweeted about how many young black women tell her they can’t see themselves pursuing a career in politics because of the sheer amount of hate they see black MPs receive. I want black children to receive financial support without fear that the rest of the world hates them for it. I want black people to get uni places and jobs without hearing others say that they got it because of their skin, rather than their merit and potential. I want black people to be present in the public eye without having to report racial abuse against them to the police on a weekly basis. The way that Britain works is that Britain has been and always will be, a multicultural nation. This is the result of the British Empire that we’re all oh so proud of. Therefore, (and this is not controversial to say), British people descended from individuals born in Empire nations deserve to live in Britain without constant apology for our existence, our actions, and our criticism of our government. Yeah, I bet its exhausting to act in such a bizarre way on social media. But imagine how tired we are.

 References:

Children in Need is not donating £10 million to Black Lives Matter - https://fullfact.org/online/children-in-need-blm/?fbclid=IwAR0RfWtsHKxeFGv8PBrY64J-QoqpiEWb3Td1nPE9WvYvZXTuksIB3ZOET9k

BBC Children in Need’s 2019 Appeal raises an incredible £47.8 million - https://www.bbc.co.uk/mediacentre/latestnews/2019/cin-total

Child poverty facts and figures - https://cpag.org.uk/child-poverty/child-poverty-facts-and-figures

Met carried out 22,000 searches on young black men during lockdown - https://www.theguardian.com/law/2020/jul/08/one-in-10-of-londons-young-black-males-stopped-by-police-in-may

Diane Abbott more abused than any other female MP during election - https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2017/sep/05/diane-abbott-more-abused-than-any-other-mps-during-election

[tessatechaitea]

Cerebus #17 (1980)

Oh! This is the issue where we learn that the toughest motherfuckers in Estarcion are priests!

What is the statute of limitations for stealing from nuns because have I got a story for my memoir! That's as close to an anecdote as I have for a comic book cover with a priest on it. At least I think that's a Tarimite priest and I think that was an anecdote (albeit a mysterious one!). It's been awhile since I've read Cerebus and I've certainly never seen most of these covers. You know how you can tell most Christians have never read The Bible? Because they're still Christian. I swear to fucking Christ it's the most ridiculous motherfucking thing I've ever read and I've read the later Xanth novels! I don't detect any hint of animosity or marital regret in Deni's "A Note from the Publisher." That just means I didn't find anything worth discussing since I'm inherently a 7th grade gossip. Dave Sim's Swords of Cerebus essay discusses sitcom television and how important it is to keeping everybody's minds diluted to the point of inefficacy. His major point is that it's easy to watch a four hour block of sitcoms without your brain coming up with one thought of its own. Obviously that's the lure of television. But what's not so obvious to most people is that it's not the show or the writing or the sitcom that's keeping you from having your own thoughts about them (although, granted, some aren't worth any thoughts at all). It's the block of time spent sitting and watching them one after the other. If a show offers an intelligent story line commenting on the troubles of our daily lives, the viewer has not time to process what they have just seen. They simply move on to the next show dumped into their viewing trough while whatever they just watched is dumped out the back of the brain to make room for the next character slipping on a banana peel causing Mr. Roper to smile mischievously at the camera because obviously that's what a gay person would do. This way of watching television mindlessly was probably more pertinent to the last century; now we are in full control of everything we watch and have ample time to pause a show or movie and discuss important and relevant bits rather then letting them simply disappear in the flicker of afterimages. Although, we sort of live in a binge culture now and watch entire shows in one sitting so we can move on to the next one. I miss the amount of discussion to be had during the week while waiting for the next episode of Wiseguy or Twin Peaks or Three's Company. Okay, maybe not that last one. What was there to discuss about that show other than why the fuck a landlord had any say in the roommate two women choose to share their apartment with?! If you read Dave Sim's essay, right now you'd be wondering, "How the fuck did that essay cause you to write those thoughts?!" Look, a digression isn't a digression because it's pertinent to the current narrative! Lay off me!

Oh, I guess this one isn't the one with the bad-ass priest (is that even one? Who can tell anymore? My brain is Swiss porridge); it's the one with the terrible German accents.

Cerebus left Palnu with a horse and eight bags of gold. When this issue begins, it's three weeks later and he's down to just the eight bags of gold. The horse had a minor accident which left Cerebus dragging bags of gold across a landscape turned muddy from torrential rains. To get out of the rain so that this issue doesn't devolve into multiple "Gee, what stinks?!" jokes, Cerebus purchases a hovel from some peasants for four pieces of gold. That's where he's relaxing when the big dumb German guys come knocking on his door. Cerebus learns that the Germans (or T'gitans or something. I feel like they're not really ever mentioned again. Not like the Hsifans or the Pavrovians) are about to invade Palnu which piques Cerebus' interest because Lord Julius was a huge pain in the ass and it would probably be funny to see his fall from power. Or maybe Cerebus just has ADHD. The guy on the cover I thought was a priest is some guy named Commander Krull. He's grim and large and dour and he's the kind of guy I thought of as a grown man when I was a kid. I will soon be 49 and I learned years ago that I'll never think of myself as the way I used to picture grown men. That's not a bad thing! I'm just commenting on the delusions that grow within the minds of children. When I was a child, I'm sure I subconsciously categorized every grown man in my life as "Man" or "adult male." I believe there was always a bit of fear that came along with the adults whom I though of as Men. It's probably why I loved old men so much because they were somehow broken through the other side of "Man" and were back to being child-like. If you're confused by my definitions of what I thought a Man was, I'd say it would have been people like Mr. Cunningham or James Evan Sr. or Pa Ingalls or Grizzly Adams or Sgt. Carter from Gomer Pyle or Mr. Banks from Mary Poppins. Men who didn't register as "Men" were Bert from Mary Poppins (hell, just about any character Dick Van Dyke played. He was too playful to be a Man), Jack Tripper, Gene Wilder as anybody, Roddy McDowall as anybody, Lenny & Squiggy. Maybe I was just intimidated by men with broad shoulders? It's sort of sad that one of the main qualities that made a male figure in my life "manly" was if they intimidated me. And yes, for those of you who actually think about shit I just wrote that you just read, Mr. C scared the bejesus out of me.

This is the face of a man who grew up thinking, "I have to be masculine or I am nothing!"

Just to be clear: I don't give a fucking toss about masculinity. All that nonsense about what makes a man a real man is simply philosophical wanking of the most boring kind. But that doesn't mean you aren't inordinately influenced by that shit while growing up, especially when your father left at two and all of your adult male role models were on television. I may have been intimidated by Mr. C and James Evans Sr and Pa Ingalls but thank fucking Christ for them because I knew at least three adult males cared about me for a small amount of time each week! Cerebus realizes Krull, disguised as a priest, has snuck out of the town for reinforcements. Cerebus' big plan is to not let that happen! My instincts are to call him a genius even though the plan seems pretty obvious. That's probably because Cerebus is a fictional character and I can lavish praise on him without feeling jealous and petty and upset that nobody is calling me a genius. I mean, why aren't they? Have I not criticized enough comic books to be regarded as a genius? Am I misunderstanding the definition of the word?!

Cerebus uses the priest disguise against Krull. Genius!

Like when he defeated the leader of the Eye of the Pyramid in Palnu, Cerebus uses trickery instead of force to defeat Krull. I mean, both are knocked out by a rock to the head which I suppose is force but Cerebus uses tricks to get the opportunity to smash rocks into their heads. Having defeated Krull, Cerebus and the T'gitans conquer Fluroc, putting pressure on Lord Julius to raise an army quickly (since his current army is on the Onliu border which is, I suppose, super far away and stuff). I guess next issue Lord Julius and Cerebus go to war! I can't believe I don't remember this story! I mean, I remember the Krull encounter but I'd forgotten it had anything to do with Cerebus waging war against Palnu. Another excerpt of Michael Loubert's "The Aardvarkian Age" appears this issue. It's as dry as reading an Associated Press rendition of a historical event. I'm not sure why I thought these things would be entertaining when I got to them. Cerebus is funny; why isn't the history of the world of Estarcion?! Aardvark Comment isn't interesting yet. It's still people praising this little rinky-dink comic book operation for surviving over a year. I can't wait until Dave starts pissing off fans and then arguing with them! Cerebus #17 Rating: B. This story seemed incomplete. Probably because it's just the first part! But also it seemed anti-climactic or a hodge-podge of semi-related scenes. It was like a sketch show! It had some pretty solid jokes but overall I just kind of felt like I'd have been better off spending the time eating a box of Oreos.

[horrorhousereview]

Creature from the Black Lagoon Franchise

When I decided to watch the Creature from the Black Lagoon, I had no idea that there was a whole series of movies to delve into. I'd only been aware of the one. Like other horror movies before it, however, the sequels couldn't compare to the original, though there was a weird romance to look forward to at the end of the road.

1. Creature from the Black Lagoon

Creature from the Black Lagoon is a typical old-fashioned monster movie, but in spite of its old style, it holds up fairly well. One of the things that impressed me most about the movie right away were the beautiful underwater shots of fish. In the era of black and white, I hadn't anticipated such cinematography. In that vein, the aquatic costume of the Creature itself was actually pretty great. Yes, it's a rubber suit. But it's a pretty good rubber suit.

The premise of the story was fairly interesting. Archaeologists discover remains of an ancient creature while on a dig site in the Amazon rainforest, some strange creature that might bridge land and sea. I remember being struck by the focus on science in the movie, and the lofty goals of the characters seeking to study it. That sentiment isn't something I've seen reflected quite so strongly in modern films.

While the archaeologists find only remains, our Creature is alive and well, and possibly is a nigh immortal version of the dead creature's mate. It attacks and kills a bunch of people, and other than being an exciting find, no one really cares.

That leads me into one of the weaknesses of such an old movie. The depictions of the native people are a little off, and the perception of the Amazon as a wild, uncivilized country (except that they hire natives to help them?) feels problematic. None of this is by any means the worst I've seen, but the foreign depictions did make me a little uncomfortable.

Most of the movie takes place with a group of researchers trying to track down the Creature that was observed to some extent in the start of the film. It takes place aboard a boat, with a group of male researchers and a surprisingly progressive depiction of either a female researcher or at least well informed lady as well.

When the Creature is on screen, it's mostly a lot of rubber-suit shots, dramatic but simultaneously boring fight scenes, and heavy use of orchestral music. When the Creature isn't on screen, those moments are mostly taken up by interpersonal drama about what to actually do about the Creature -- to capture and study it, or to kill it to save themselves, as their encounters become increasingly dangerous.

The ending I would say was mediocre. There was a final confrontation with the death of one of the characters, though I hadn't grown to love any of them so I wasn't very bothered by it. The Creature, as I think is widely known, had fixated on the woman and kidnapped her in a short but iconic scene. In the end, though, the Creature sank into the depths and the rest of the crew made their escape. It tied up the movie neatly but wasn't exactly noteworthy.

In the end, I was surprised how much I enjoyed the movie. In spite of it's shortcomings, I give the film a 7/10.

2. Revenge of the Creature

News of the Creature had spread after the events of the first film, and in this sequel we see a new group of people again aboard a boat in the Amazon, seeking out the creature they'd heard so much of. Now our scientists aren't simply archaeologists, but rather have plans to capture the creature and bring it back to America for study. And indeed, that is exactly what they do.

I thought there was an interesting difference in how the chimps and the Creature are treated by the research scientists. While the chimps had a seemingly loving caretaker, the Creature was "taught" what to do by luring it with food, then admonishing it and zapping it with an underwater cattle prod. Not very nice at all, and it was no wonder to me that the Creature didn't like its treatment. In spite of what could potentially be classed as animal abuse, I was intrigued by the scientists' fascination with animal intelligence, and the idea of evolution. Just like in the first film, science was depicted as wondrous and exciting, and definitely took a front seat.

Of our two main scientists in this movie, one of them is a woman, which was pretty progressive for its time as far as I'm aware. In spite of a fairly predictable sub-plot about scientists in love, it didn't detract from her actual competence in doing her job.

As expected, the Creature escaped its confines, and it wasn't happy with what had been going on. The name of the film is, after all, Revenge of the Creature. Unfortunately, the treatment toward the Creature, while not great, wasn't exactly torture either. In that light, neither is the Creature's revenge too severe, leaving me somewhat bored as a result.

Like the first film, the Creature fights any men it finds, but doesn't fight any of the women (or in this case, children). The Creature also has a fixation on the lady scientist, and like in the first film, she conveniently passes out helplessly as the plot demands. It was almost painfully predictable, but then again this is the sort of movie that birthed such a trope so I couldn't be too mad at it.

In the end, they did get their woman back, and once again the creature seemed to die without leaving behind a body. It ended about as mediocrely as the first film did, but fell a bit more flat because it wasn't that interesting the first time, and certainly wasn't the second.

It was more or less what I expected in a sequel, and while I had nothing major to complain about, I also didn't find it particularly riveting. In the end, I give this film a 6/10.

3. The Creature Walks Among Us

I wasn't that excited to watch yet another movie in the series by the time I got to the third. And indeed, the third film began just as the first and the second -- on a boat somewhere, looking for the Creature. I couldn't help but think they should really stop doing that.

This time, our scientists are doctors, and the main scientist wants to change the creature from an aquatic to land animal somehow, to prove some sort of a point. What? I have no idea, really. It was difficult to care, especially with the interpersonal drama going on throughout the film. We have a woman aboard again, because of course we have to have one. Only this time, she's not particularly likeable as far as I'm concerned. She didn't seem very intelligent, and she shot at sharks. She's also terribly unhappy with her marriage to the doctor, which lead me to wonder why she'd married him in the first place. I couldn't see any reason for their being together throughout the film.

The other male lead spent most of the movie trying to get with the doctor's wife. The doctor spent the movie becoming increasingly irrational and accusing his wife of infidelity. While she strongly protested the other dude's rapey advances, (which I ought to point out, the Creature tried to save her from at one point), she also did sort of have an emotional affair with him. The whole love triangle was cringey, confusing, and uncomfortable to watch.

They did end up catching the Creature, and they did end up somehow changing it into a land animal, at least somewhat. And while they dressed it as a man and remarked on how human it was becoming, they also kept it in a cage outside. They commented on how kind they'd been to it and the one man credited their kindness for its own gentleness, but I was acutely uncomfortable at how they could say such things while keeping the thing in a cage. Is it a sentient being or not? No one in the movie seems to make up their mind.

In the end, things come to a head between the two men and one kills the other. The creature escapes yet again. And the woman who I never really came to like was finally free of an abusive relationship. I'm not sure whether I cared.

Of all the films in the series, this one was the most tedious so far. And while the changing of the creature's physiology was somewhat interesting, and could have opened doors to introspection about what it means to be human or animal, the film only suggested there could be big ideas and never really delivered.

Overall, I'd rate the movie a 4/10.

4. Abbott and Costello Meet the Creature from the Black Lagoon

I wasn't really in the mood for a fourth film after slogging through three, but thankfully this was only a fifteen minute clip of Abbott and Costello. And indeed, it was their classic comedy, with all sorts of ghost stories and strange noises, culminating in Costello coming face to face with Frankenstein and the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Did it really have anything to do with the Creature? No. Did it prepare me for the final film in my list? Definitely.

Final rating? 10/10

5. The Shape of Water

I couldn't cover the Creature from the Black Lagoon without covering The Shape of Water. This supernatural romance, while not a horror movie, features a woman falling in love with our Creature. How could I not watch it?

Right away, when I realized the movie was by Guillermo del Toro, I knew the movie would be weird. I should have known that well enough simply based on the premise, but the director guaranteed it. In that regard, I was not disappointed.

The movie opens with a moody aesthetic reminiscent of Amelie. It starts off right away with arguably unnecessary nudity and masturbation, setting the tone for the rest of this strange film.

Elisa is the main character, and she is a mute woman who is part of the cleaning staff at some secretive governmental facility. She hangs out with her best friend, a starving artist, and largely seems to have a comfortable life. Then the secretive government facility gains the Creature, in order to study it much like the second movie of the Black Lagoon series. However, unlike the Black Lagoon films, this movie is far less focused on the wonder of science. Instead, the movie is dark and gritty, and focused primarily on secret agents from Russia, and the USA and Russia trying to gain a hold over one another by studying the Creature.

Our main governmental character is one of the most horrible to ever grace the screen. There was nothing likeable about him whatsoever. He was horrible to the Creature, to his family, and to his staff, even threatening sexual abuse toward Elisa. It was his job throughout the film to cause me to cringe either from torture scenes or his general personality.

Elisa fell in love with the Creature, and moved by its plight and the decision of the government to kill it, she helped it to escape, with the aid of her artist friend and a co-worker, as well as a convenient Russian secret agent scientist who didn't want to see the Creature die. The plot, while weird, is straight forward when looking at the big picture.

One thing that struck me toward the start of the film was the design of the Creature. Time had marched on, and it was a far cry from the rubber suit of the original. At first, I didn't like the change, but I admit that as the movie progressed I got used to the new aesthetic and even started to enjoy it. Having completed the film, I'm still not sure where I stand on the design over all. There was something very Aquaman-esque about it, rather than fish-man, which I suppose helps the sex scenes feel a little less weird.

The Shape of Water certainly isn't meant to be in keeping with the original Black Lagoon movies, but I couldn't help but compare it again and again throughout. How could I not, given the subject matter? The lack of emphasis on science, and the moody aesthetic I would say detracted from the original. The inclusion of a mute character and a starving artist to spice things up was a bit of a weird decision. But I give props to the much more comfortable inclusion of female characters and Elisa's black friend, which are a relief after the somewhat cringey outmoded culture in the original film.

One thing that the movie lacked for me was a depiction of the Black Lagoon itself. Even in the second of the Black Lagoon movies, we were at the lagoon at the start of the film before the Creature was moved to America for study. Here, I had no sense what it took for them to capture it, or what it acted like in its original environment.

Finally, there's the weird ending. I thought for sure Elisa and the Creature were goners right up until the very last moment. Then, they sort of lived happily ever after... except that the narrator of the story is the starving artist friend, and he doesn't seem to know for sure. I'm left wondering if the final scene was supposed to be speculative and hopeful, or literal for the viewer. I also thought it was interesting that natives apparently considered the Creature a god, and some of the characters from the film thought so too in the end when confronted with the Creature's healing powers. I suspect if he was a god, he'd have escaped himself from the facility long before, and that he just had weird abilities, but I suppose calling him a god is as good as anything. I also have to wonder whether the term god was selected specifically to contrast with the weird Christian fixation of the antagonist. Del Toro is pretty into symbolism, so maybe.

The real question is whether I liked it. I can't say for certain. Like Pan's Labyrinth, I can never really decide what I think of del Toro's work. I award significant points for creativity, but remain ever uncertain as to whether I actually enjoyed the film.

Final rating? 6/10

[globgor-of-mewnie]

Since When Has Our Relationship Ever Been Easy?

At last. After three and a half years, it’s time to crack my knuckles and write fanfiction again. I’m honestly very shocked by the lack of fanfiction revolving around Eclipsa’s family. Globgor doesn’t even have a character filter on fanfiction.net! Like, WHAT?!

Very well. Then I shall take matters into my hands.

I’ll warn you now, this story isn’t going to be very plot-heavy. Oh, there’s an overall plot, but it’s more about living out the daily lives of Globgor and Eclipsa up until the point of their imprisonment. I’m going to use all the tiny glimpses of info given to us about their past and do what I can to create an accurate timeline for them. Each chapter will be divided based on their current ages. If I get a new filler idea for some point in their lives, I’ll create bonus chapters to add on. Okay, I think I covered everything, so read on and enjoy!

Oh, and in case anyone is wondering, this story will be canon for my muse Globgor, as I’m writing what I honestly believed plausible for his character!

Prologue CH1

Prologue

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away lived a beautiful princess. She was young, only seven, but very intelligent for her age. She was the kind of girl who always asked ‘why’ and would gladly face any danger just to feed her curiosity. She was a bit selfish, but not in a mean way. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about other people. She just found her own feelings to be important too and often felt like she was the only one who thought so too. It wasn’t fair that she was always so lonely and bored staying in the Butterfly Castle all day! Why did everyone have to fight all the time? It would be much more fun if everyone just played together instead. This princess’ name was Eclipsa.

Now, far away from Butterfly Castle lived a young monster, only eight. He was a boy of no origin. That is, no one knew where he came from Not even him. He just showed up one day, a hungry toddler digging in the trash. When it became apparent that the monster child was a Size-Shifter, a rare and deadly breed of monster, the locals took turns taking care of the child. Eventually the boy performed odd jobs in order to earn himself some food and a place to sleep. Times were rough for monsters. No one was too young to offer a helping hand. Not that this bothered him. He liked making himself useful. This monster child’s name was Globgor.

Eclipsa and Globgor. Two children who came from races that despised each other. Although they currently didn’t know each other, the day would come when they would fall madly in love with each other. They’d give up everything to be with one another and become the most infamous villains in all of Mewni. Their actions would cause them to be loathed and feared for many centuries to come.

This is their story, and it’s time to tell it.

~~~

“Yo, this brochure is the bomb!”

“There’s only one act though…”

“Yeah, but it’s only the best act of the kingdom!”

“Yeah, show some respect, man! Oh wait, ssh! Here we go!”

The boy quieted down as their leader stepped out from behind the makeshift curtains that had been put on display for them. It was their homeboy, Prince Jushtin. He carried his usual air of confidence as he held a microphone up to his mouth.

“Yo, yo, how ya’ll doing tonight? You doing good?”

“Yeah!”

“You bet!”

“Eh, could’ve used some snacks….”

The other Boy-Prince Cru looked at old man Whizzbag with disdain. Pea-Pea had to nudge him in order to help him get realize how stupid and thoughtless he was being. The man was hip, but he was always spouting utter nonsense.

Jushtin didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he did a little turn and gestured with grandeur towards the curtains. “Yeah, yeah, I thought so! So allow me to be the one to introduce you to the one, the only, the princess Eclipsa!”

The Cru burst into applause as a small child with curly head of dark green hair stepped out onto the makeshift stage. She giggled as she showed off the large hat, long boa, and sequins blouse and skirt. She walked just like her uncle instructed her, holding her arms out so she didn’t trip.

“Eclipsa is wearing a fabulous outfit put together by her favorite uncle!” Jushtin walked alongside his niece as he continued his narration. “Now, this isn’t a look that can work with just any young lady! No, for most it would be trying too hard. However, due to the princess’ pale skin and uniquely colored hair, the extravagance helps bring out her facial features, most notably those precious spades on her cheeks!”

“Ooooooooh!” The cru leaned forward, watching  in awe of the seven-year-old’s modeling skills.

Jushtin snapped his fingers and waved his hips side to side. “That’s right, Clippy! Strut your stuff! Bring your style to life! Unce, unce, unce, unce!”

“You’re so beautiful, princess!” Sazmo sounded breathless as he held out a hand to the little model. When she gave him a high-five, he grabbed he fell back and let his bros catch him. “She touched me! I got the angel’s touch! I’m never washing this hand again!”

Eclipsa continued to giggle and blush at all the attention she was getting. She was about to turn around to get dressed in her next outfit when she looked down and noticed something was amiss. “Oh no! Uncle Jushtin! I got it wrong! My shirt is on backwards!”

Jushtin took a quick glance at her before smirking at his friends. “You heard the little lady, boys! Backwards shirts are the new in! Follow the lead if you want to stay up with the times!”

Eclipsa watched in amazement before bursting into a fit of laughter as all the boys proceeded to turn their shirts backwards.

The group went silent as the doors to the castle suddenly burst open. In walked several members of the Mewman army being lead by an irate Solaria. A growl could be heard before she even had a chance to throw down her helmet. She swore and shook her head, even as several members of the castle staff appeared before her.

“Mommy’s home!” Eclipsa quickly ran in the direction of her mother, followed closely by her uncle.

“Your majesty, did you manage to disband the monster soldiers from our outpost?” someone pleaded while trying to stay out of the queen’s way.

“Of course we did! But at what cost? We lost too many of our men!” Solaria ran a hand over her face as she continued to move forward, seemingly unaware of the small girl running at her heels.

“Mommy! Mommy, Uncle Jushtin and I are having a fashion show! Come and see!”

“We need to be find a way to lower their numbers before they reach the battlefield!” Solaria reached for some documents passed on to her by one of the court members. She gave it a read over while she continued. “Where do these beasts keep coming from? I swear, they’re breeding just to spite us!”

Eclipsa wasn’t discouraged. “Mommy! Mommy, come see!”

“How do they keep finding our outposts? Is someone giving them intel? Oh wait, it’s those Avarians, isn’t it? They’ve been flying around and spying on us! I knew we should have stationed the Ponyheads on air patrol! But no! They’re just too good for that!”

“Mommy, look at what I’m wearing! Come see! Come-“ Eclipsa stopped her insistent pleading once Jushtin placed a jeweled hand on her shoulder. He smiled at her in an apologetic way.

“Clippy, I think your mom is busy right now.” he whispered. He started to guide her back over to his Cru. “Let’s continue the show and maybe she can meet up with us later, m’kay?”

Eclipsa’s smiled faded. She looked at the floor dejectedly. She wouldn’t cry. She knew her mother had the most important job in all of Mewni, but she was getting busier every day. She never got to see her anymore. Of course she was grateful to have her Uncle Jushtin to play with, but she missed the days she had the majority of her mother’s time.

She wished the monsters would just leave them alone. They always kept her mom so busy. And so angry.

“Your majesty, should we call up a meeting with the High Commission so you can share what you saw?”

“I will in a couple of hours.” Solaria finally stopped her tirade in order to turn around and look at her retreating family with a smile. “In case you didn’t hear, I’ve received a personal invitation to a fashion show.”

Eclipsa instantly spun around with a happy gasp. She charged forward and leapt into her mother’s outstretched arms. The queen chuckled at her daughter’s delight before looking up at her brother.

“Why’s your shirt on backwards?”

Jushtin simply clicked his tongue and gave her a piteous look. “You haven’t heard that the backwards shirt is what’s in right now? You make me sad, little sister. You make me sad.”

~~~

Far from the Butterfly Castle stood a tavern filled with a variety of different monsters. Its popularity helped make it into a large, but still rather beat-up looking place. The latter was due to the fact that this is where monster army came to either boast of their victories or rage at their losses. Whatever the case was, the patrons always hung on their every word. Those who fought for monster kind were considered heroes, even if they didn’t always come home with good news.

Today had turned out to be one of those days.

“I swear, the next time I see that pompous queen, I’m going to scratch out those annoying cheek marks of hers!”

“Oh, then why didn’t you do that today, Rex?”

“What? Are you saying it was my fault?”

“You always do this! Everytime you come home empty, you brag about-“

“You act as if you did much better!”

“Guys, guys, we did manage to take out a lot of her soldiers-“

“Oh, putting a happy face on things? Yeah! Tell that to the families going to sleep hungry tonight!”

“Oh enough already!” an Slime Man soldier sighed while pouring himself a drink. He turned to the other residents with an apologetic smile. “I’m truly sorry to all of you. This whining isn’t what you want to hear. You all deserve to hear our words of grandeur and promise. Take hope. What I take from this battle is that we posed as a threat to the wicked queen. We struck fear into her heart! I can feel it!”

“Slime, stop talking. Please. They don’t want to be coddled. They want the facts!” A Frog Man grumbled. He looked down at his empty tankard and snarled. “Where the heck is the brat? OIE! GLOBGOR!!”

An eight-year-old boy with scraggly light pink hair and a green tunic jumped nearby. He had been so enraptured by the story of the soldiers that he had forgotten he was supposed to be working. He quickly grabbed the pitcher and refilled the Frog Man’s drink. “Sorry about that! Won’t happen again!”

“Hey, can we get some goat-pig over here? We’re starving!” a Septarian called.

Globgor took a pencil from behind his pointy ear and jotted down in a little notepad. “Of course! Right away!”

“And while you’re at it, my armor needs to be washed,” another monster said, tossing said object over to the boy.

“Yeah, mine too!”

“Same here!”

“Actually a wash sounds pretty great!”

Pretty soon, a pile of chest plates were poured on top of the young monster. Somehow a small hand managed to pop out of the top and give a thumbs-up. “I’m on it! I’ll get these right back to all of you!” his muffled voice called.

Globgor was met with a piteous chuckle as he finally managed to pull himself out of the heavy armor. He was met with the amused eyes of Gooblah, the only other Size-Shifter in Mewni. He was a much darker red than Globgor was, donned many battle scars, and had a long wisp of white hair as well as a beard. At the moment, he was sitting at a table, trying not to laugh at plight of his only brethren.

“Aw, what’s so funny?” Globgor didn’t enjoy being laughed at. It meant that the person doing it didn’t take him seriously. He attempted to save face by striding over to the bar to fetch his cleaning gear by keeping his nose up in the air.

“Those boys could use you as a personal hanky, and you would thank them for it,” old man Gooblah chuckled.

“And why shouldn’t I? They’re out there fighting for our lives against the evil Mewmans! The least I can do is offer my services to them when they get back!” Globgor kneeled down and began scrubbing the blood and grime off the armor.

“It’s admirable that you respect them, but that doesn’t mean they need to treat you so rudely.”

“They’re just blowing off steam. Plus they want to toughen me up! Everyone’s expecting me to join when I get older!”

“Right. Because we’re Size-Shifters. A rare and deadly breed of monsters.” A sullen look appeared on the monster’s face as he stared into his drink. He didn’t seem to hold the title with much pride.

Globgor looked at him. “I hear you used to say that with vigor. Why are you such a coward now?”

Gooblah smirked. “It’s cowardly to not want to fight anymore? To find it all pointless?”

“You’re letting everyone down. We were unstoppable when you were going around eating Mewmans. These men wouldn’t be disappointed right now if you would just kill the queen!”

“You weren’t even born yet, how would you know?” the older man sighed as he looked over at the young, loud soldiers. “I’m sorry I’m the only other Size-Shifter and yet such a disappointment. I know you want a big, scary monster to look up to. I just…..I had an epiphany, you know? This war, what we’re carrying on with….there’s no winning it. Not with how we’re doing it. We hit them, they hit back harder, and then we hit harder, and eventually we all just wind up setting ourselves on fire.”

Globgor finally stood up. “It won’t have to be that way once we dominate the Mewmans and make them our slaves!”

A frown appeared on the other’s face. “But now what would that make us? I thought we were fighting for fair treatment. That doesn’t sound very fair.”

“The Mewmans will never treat us fairly! It’s bad enough that you won’t fight, but now why are you taking their side?”

“I’m not. I just want there to be peace. I’ve seen too many of my friends die from everyone’s stubbornness and pride. There has to be another way. Somehow.” Gooblah turned back to his drink, seeming to prefer seeing his own reflection rather than the incredulous look on the younger boy’s face. “Anyhow…..have you found a bed for tonight?”

Globgor grumbled and looked away. “No. Today’s work was for food. You think if I harvest your crops tomorrow, you could let me sleep in your house tonight?”

Gooblah chuckled and gave a small smile. “Sounds like a deal.” He still didn’t look up from his drink.

Before Globgor could speak to him further, he got another call from the soldiers, one of them complaining that his chair was uneven. He gave his elder a grateful nod before heading off to tend to the needs of the customers.

Gooblah watched the boy, a somber look on his face. Globgor….he really was a good kid. But growing up alone in the middle of a war was filling his heart with anger and hatred. He didn’t want to bring peace to Mewni. He wanted to see Mewmans either die or serve monsters. If he was this ruthless as child, what would he become once he reached adulthood? Any semblance of love would be removed, leaving only a bloodthirsty tyrant. Stump help the Mewmans when the boy learned how to increase in size.

It didn’t look like things would be getting better in the future. And for that, his old heart truly went out to his fellow Size-Shifter. If times were different, maybe Globgor would’ve grown up to be a noble, valiant monster. But with the way things were now, he had no doubt though that the boy would grow up to become an unintentional villain.

[hongkongdramas]

Barrack O’ Karma

Yay to creepy and mysterious themed dramas! I have always liked such drama themes. So currently I’ve only watched till episode 4 and I have started to like it. The first two episode under the story ‘梦’ wasn’t impressive to me. It was exciting at some point in time but excitement level went into a flat line again... I would assume that it was an opening to show how Siu (Joel Chan) has this connection to his past life through his dreams. But it was a little too draggy by the some what random robbery case and a murder case in the prostitute house. And I was bored out of some unnecessary conversation going on which was a tad bit too long...

Episode 2 to 4 was way more interesting compared to the first two. I liked how Candice Chiu portrayed the mother that lost her child. That story for ‘婴’ kept me really curious as to what Mrs Ho wanted and the paranoia that the baby’s mother went through was so pitiful. Even though there were a lot of conversational scenes on some baby care methods, i think it was necessary for them to show the transition of how the baby’s mother trusted Mrs Ho to starting to suspect her weird behaviors. Now i’m looking forward to the other stories and now how they ended episode 4 with a flight turbulence!

The next story “娃” was interesting too. What started off as an uncomfortable involvement with dolls for men’s pleasure ended up to be a sad story about how a father felt so lonely after his daughter grew up. But this episode is filled with so much jokes that are so not for children.. 🙂 Anyway kudos for having an interracial couple and the first I’ve seen in a hk drama. Speaks so much about being accepting and diverse.

Following that was “鴉烏” (is it on purpose that they put the name the other way round? Or should I be reading it from right to left instead...) which has a pretty sad ending. Deep meanings in this story... the pressure from society and high expectations from parents on kids nowadays are really prevalent. The moment Tung-Tung said he didn’t want to grow up to face the hardship as an adult related to me so much. It was sad to see everyone losing their memory about Tung-Tung and finally even Tung-Tung himself losing his memory about his parents.

“異夢” was refreshing because it finally brought us back to the past to understand more about their past life (if there is some reincarnation thingy going on). It was so cool to see the opposite of what was happening like how it was Sis Coco dreaming of future Siu while in present life was Siu dreaming of Coco. And also Law Lan Jeh’s cameo!!! The lesbian case was ordinary but I guess it was necessary to link up the stolen $ and the release of Brother Hung.

Finally I got my question answered in these episodes. During Tung-Tung’s case, I was wondering so much on why Tung-Tung’s parent didn’t bat an eyelid when Alex came in to find out why they were arguing so loud. It felt like Alex wasn’t there at all... and I finally found my answer at the end of “洞”. Is Alex dead??? Mmmmm. Have to watch on I guess. Anyway, IMO, there wasn’t much of a supernatural thing going on in “洞”... (other than the fact that the hole in the wall was the creepy element to it) I guess there was an inspirational message going on throughout the story of pursuing one’s dream like how Mia finally found her calling and decided to put in effort in achieving what she wanted. Of course it wouldn’t have been possible without the help of that guy {forgot that guy’s name.. shall call him chicken little like how Siu called him}. Chicken Little was the one who made Mia realize her goal in life despite been an annoying keyboard warrior his whole life...

Next was “金丁” which was the weirdest shit story ever... I was totally baffled at the entire story with that weird ass theory of getting happiness after sleeping with that guy... I think this was the worst story ever that I have nothing to say about it..

Yuki Jeh is actually very pretty!! Her “美魔女” story was interesting because it linked back to her mum in the past. So we get to toggle back and forth between past and present to see the reason for her obsession with beauty. Too bad Yuki Jeh went bonkers till the end.. I wasn’t expecting her to use the cotton wool to wipe it on her face when Shui left 😅

DR POONNNN! Like everyone else, I was anticipating and waiting and waiting for Dr Poon to appear and there she is!!! But she appeared for such a short duration :( Anyway, the story of “Simone” was so cute!!!! I really like the part when they enter the gaming story. The augmented reality they were in was so interesting! And the story really shows how scary technology can be in our digital world. The manifestation of technology, especially in the world of augmented and virtual reality, can be dangerous where our personal data are constantly being collected for other purposes... the love story was just an added feature.. Hahahah KELLY CHEUNG was gorgeous!! And that Big White Duel reference there was cool! Plus also, they were finally revealing the ultimate story behind Siu, Alex, Fai and Coco. Teacher Lam is super mysterious and I’m really wondering what is that “thing” that he refers to suspiciously.

Last story!! 夢遊. Okay actually I’m only till the last second episode. Wow mind blown. They actually came up with some sci-fi thingy where you’d have to almost drown to time travel...? Okay that was out of the blue.. and omg don’t tell me Lam Gor Zai is some cat demon that kills people.

Finished Barrack O’ Karma and I was a little confused at the ending and also annoyed at the fact that they spent a whole 3-5 mins nearing the end to show flashbacks other then providing us with a little more details for the story.

Instead of looking at Lam Gor Zai being a real cat demon or some sort, I would rather view Lam Gor Zai suffering from mental illness as a result. His horrible past (the sacrificial burial) might caused him to suffer from PTSD and resulted in him having DID (dissociative identity disorder) hence the “cat demon”. The cat demon was the other personality he had that harms people. Just like M. Night Shyamalan’s Split movie starring James McAvoy having 24 split personalities, the “Beast” was just one of the personality that goes around harming people. 

The final ending was the confusing part. Initially, the part where Coco and Siu (who time traveled) were almost dying on the boat, I thought that if Coco were to die and Siu to survive, Siu would not drown in the present time and Alex would have been declared dead from the missing flight. And if Coco were to survive and Siu to die, Alex would have survived in the present time and found from the missing flight while Siu would have drowned in the water tank. Boy was I wrong... instead, I would think that for Siu to time travel and have altered the past, it has created a whole new dimension in the present where characters we have seen had a whole new story in their lives but yet a striking similarity to what we have seen in the past episodes. (e.g Mia who is now a star with that chicken little who may have a special connection to her, Yuki Jeh who is now blind and unable to “appreciate” the beauty she has, Tung-tung who is now with his family and his dad a common bus driver etc.) As for Alex, she is now (coincidentally still) a flight attendant while Siu now a pilot. The eye contact and tears in their eyes may have brought forth the familiarity both had for each other just like how Alex said that she felt this homey feeling when entering Twilight Mansion and that it felt as if she had been here the whole time. 

Oh there was this weird scene where we see Lam Gor Zai and the older version of him (played by Lau Kong) carrying on to Lan Po. Seriously confused by this... I need some explanations here... That was so out of the blue...

Overall, I really enjoyed myself watching this drama with every subplot and ultimately the main story on reincarnation and time travel. Kudos! Looking forward to the sequel which has been green-lit!

[a7xlizardqueen]

Title: Your Knight in a Sweater Vest

Overall Rating: NC-17

Overall Warnings: Parental bullying, mentions of bulimia, nudity(?), drinking, partying, cursing, very slight mention of war and trauma, smut

Pairing: Reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: When you need help dealing with your rude and overbearing family, your best friend Steve Rogers comes to the rescue. Modern!AU - For  @barnesrogersvstheworld Writing Challenge Shot Through the Heart

Chapter: 1/10

Word Count: 1,638 words

Chapter Warnings: None

-X-X-X-

The bar was packed as you squeezed yourself through the crowd, searching for a group of familiar faces. It was Friday, which meant only one thing: meeting up with the guys at your favourite spot for beer and wings. Afterward you’d probably play pool and keep your eyes out for someone to hook up with.

“Yo, Y/N, over here!”

Sam is peering over the crowd, waving his hand in the air. He, Bucky, and Steve are already packed into a booth, a pitcher of Bud half empty.

“What, you guys start without me?” you ask, sliding on to the bench next to Steve.

“That’s what happens when you’re late,” Bucky scolds, sliding over a fresh glass.

“Dude, not even five minutes.”

“Five minutes is still late, Y/N.”

“I’ll remember that next time you’re late, James.”

“Now, now, children, settle down,” Steve smirks. "You're both late as often as the other."

You and Bucky smirk and he winks. Steve is always the peacekeeper between you two. Not that you don’t like each other, just the opposite, but you have kind of a love-hate relationship, as if you’re each other’s annoying sibling.

The waitress comes around, blonde girl with big tits. She smiles at all the guys, and ignores you. You’re used to it. Downside to being the only woman in a group of men. You order five-dozen wings, another pitcher, and a round of shots of Honey Jack.

“Kay, so, game at my place Sunday?” Sam asks.

“You got it, man,” Steve says and Bucky nods.

The shots come and before anything else is said you clink your glasses and shoot back the sweet, amber liquid.

“What ‘bout you, Y/N?”

You shake your head, “Sorry boys, no can do. Prior engagement.”

“Hot date?” Steve smirks.

“I wish,” you pause and take a large gulp of your beer to stall for a moment. The guys’ questioning faces don’t relent. “I’ve got a barbecue at my mother's house to go to.”

Their immediate reaction is to look concerned, quickly followed by angry.

“What the hell are you doing even talking to her?” Bucky’s brow furrows, “She treats you like shit.”

“She's my mother, Buck. Besides, it’s not so bad anymore.”

“I don’t believe you for one damn second, doll. You always make excuses for that family.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Sam, Steve, and Bucky are quiet, unhappy with you.

“There’s something more isn’t there?” Steve asks.

You nod and whisper, “He’s back.”

“Who’s back, Percy’s back?!” Bucky’s fist hits the table with a thud.

“You mean that asshole that had you starving yourself?” Sam asks.

“That asshole who had you working out so hard you passed out and had to be rushed to the hospital?”

“He doesn’t want to get back together, does he?” Steve asks.

You shake your head and call the waitress over for another round of shots, doubles this time.

“No, he just wants to show off his new girlfriend and tell me how much better she is then me. And how much more successful he is then me.”

“Want us to come beat his ass?” Sam offers.

The wings arrive and you all dig in. You laugh and shake your head.

“No, that would be a seriously unfair fight.”

Bucky laughs, “Dude still skinny as shit?”

“You know it.”

“Never skip leg day!” Sam yells.

The tension of the previous minutes has lifted and your plight is ignored for a while as you watch a random soccer game on the TV and continue to stuff yourselves with beer and wings and whiskey. After another round you head over to an empty pool table, you and Steve against Bucky and Sam. As Bucky and Sam rack up the balls Steve hands you a cue and says quietly.

“Seriously, Y/N, if you want some back up, I’m there.”

You sigh, of course he would offer. Steve was one of those seriously good guys that always tried to do the right thing.

“And how would you help?”

He shrugs, “I dunno. But I could at least stick up for you. Be there to let everyone know how great you’re doing with your life.”

“Really, Steve, I don’t need a cheerleader.”

Steve smirks, “Damn, now what am I gonna do with my pom poms?”

“Y/N, your break!”

-X-X-X-

Friday night ended rather uneventfully. You drank more. You played pool. Did a bit of dancing. Went home. No one got lucky that night.

Sunday rolled around. It was a hot day so shorts were a must. You still had a hard time showing off your legs, especially around your family, but if you tried to cover up with pants you’d regret it. Besides, Sam was always telling you to show off the body you’d worked so hard for. He’d kill you if you told him you hid it away. You paired it with a thin white button up, rolling up the sleeves to your elbows. You knew your outfit wasn’t nearly as fancy or feminine as your mother’s or your sister’s surely would be, but you’d mostly abandoned the need for their approval by now, anyway. Mostly.

The look of utter disappointment was exactly what you’d expected, followed by the obligatory scolding for your tardiness. The tardiness was completely intentional, of course, the less time you spent with them the better.

Your mother and sister were visions of perfect beauty. Hair shiny, bouncy, not a flyaway in sight; and they were both wearing long flowing maxi dresses. It made your $5 bargain store shorts and shirt seem frumpy.

Then there was the ex, Percy. He wasn’t typically good looking. His face held too much expression, almost goofy, his eyes and lips large on his narrow face and his dark hair was unruly, sticking up in every direction. He wasn’t particularly tall, and had a thin body with just enough muscle to counteract any fat. But he had a certain charisma in the way he carried himself and the way he spoke that captivated people. It had certainly captivated you once.

His girlfriend was beautiful. Like a movie star from the 1950’s. She dressed like one too. And she was so damn nice that it was hard not to like her. Even though you tried, very hard.

You milled around the barbecue mostly, sipping your beer and trying to avoid conversation. You don’t often get what you want, though.

“Long time no see, Y/N, how ya been?” Your stepdad’s work associate asks as you try to slip quietly by to get yourself another beer.

“I’m fine, Geoff, how are you?” You answer politely, looking down at your empty bottle.

“Oh, just fantastic. Did your stepdad tell you we made a killing this year? Yeah, Jan and I are gonna take a trip to Hawaii to celebrate.”

And thus began the extremely exciting and titillating conversation of the world of insurance. Somehow the man was able to talk about the most boring subject in the world for an entire half hour. You zoned out after about five minutes and only came to when he finally asked you a question.

“What is it that you do again?”

Great, the question. Everyone always asks that question. Normally you wouldn’t care, you enjoy telling people what you do for a living. Just not this crowd.

“I’m a woodworker.”

“Oh. So what does that mean, exactly?”

“I build things out of wood. Furniture, sculptures, you name it. Some of what I make is my own design, whenever I get inspiration; a lot is custom building stuff. I also do antique restoration. And I teach yoga and self-defence at my buddy’s gym.”

“How interesting. And is there a lot of money in the woodworking business?”

“Probably not as much as in the insurance business,” you shrug and back away, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been empty for far too long.”

All these people ever talk about is money. They base their ideas of success on how much money can be made, not how happy something can make you, or someone else. Your favourite thing in the world is seeing the amazed looks on a client’s face when you bring their ideas to fruition, sometimes better than they could have imagined. But conveying that feeling to these vultures was impossible.

“Good to see you again, Y/N,” his voice interrupts you before you can even take five steps and you once again look down at your empty beer and sigh; you’re gonna have to upgrade to whiskey.

“Wish I could say the same for you, Percy,” you turn and paste a fake smile onto your face.

You don’t know why, but he still makes your stomach tie into knots every time you look at him. He broke your heart, and you got over it. You did. There isn’t a bone in your body that wants to revisit the lack of a relationship you had with this man for one year. And yet when you look at him, especially with her on his arm, you think about how long it’s been since a man has touched you. You think about how long it’s been since a man looked at you with desire in his eyes. You look at him and your body yearns, and aches for what could have been.

“You’re breaking my heart, babe,” he feigns pain with a hand over his heart.

“Oh, if only I could.”

“No date again?”

“Well, I didn’t want to make you jealous.”

“How kind of you.”

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me you had a guest coming?” Your mother rushes over.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of food and beverages, but really Y/N, it’s quite rude. Please tell me next time so I can be prepared.”

“Mother, what are you talking about?”

“Hey, honey, sorry I’m late.”

[irregardlessly-tish]

I said I didn't want to pause the episode to makes comments but I kinda did, I just didn't post them because I’d spam the dash for sure but here they are:

For a moment I thought "Well, perhaps this episode will make me like Jon a little" but then he turns into a hypocrite in the scene with Tyrion. He says he won't try to justify what Daenerys did because there's no justification but then he's like "Oh but she saw her friend beheaded! She saw her dragon being shot down!". Jonathan Snowman, shut the fuck up, that's trying to justify it and say that the life of her best friend and her dragon was worth more than the lives of hundreds of innocents, including children, all who not only died horrible deaths  but they lived their last moments in an indescribable fear, seeing everything around them falling apart and the people around them screaming until their last breaths, being crushed to death, being burnt alive or massacred by your queen's crazy followers. And she doesn't even seem to regret it in the least, she pretty much said she wants to keep going. Is that the queen you love?

She didn't even bat an eye when he told her about the burnt children...

"They don't get to choose" oh man that does sound like freedom.

Well... that was a quick death... I've seen people getting stabbed multiple times and they didn't die instantly like that.

If fire cannot kill a "dragon", Jon shouldn't die even if Drogon had tried burning him, right? I kind of wish that he had tried and then see Jon in the middle of the flames like ???? why won't the gods just let me die for good ????

Damn, Davos is the best...

I don't know how Edmure Tully is still alive. The man doesn't even know how to sit, he couldn't shoot an arrow and I don't think he's learned.

Who's sitting between Edmure and Sam? For a moment I thought it was Brynden but he's dead, right? I liked the Blackfish, he was cool, he'd be a good king too. He should've been Davos' boyfriend.

👏Sam👏wants👏democracy👏

👏GIVE👏DAVOS👏THE👏CROWN👏HE'S👏THE👏BEST👏

Excuse me... The fuck? Who has a better story than Bran the broken? Well, let me tell you: Davos Seaworth, The Onion Knight. He had nothing, he didn't have a powerful family to help him. He didn’t even know how to read, he probably still doesn’t fully know how to write. He came from nothing and now is standing in next to the most powerful people in Westeros. He brings people together and guides them. He's a good influence on people.

Whatever, I guess I don't hate Bran as a king but Davos would be so much better.

I'm not sure I understand Sansa. She said all that stuff about the north men and it was kind of why she said Danny couldn't rule them, she said she wasn't from the North so she wouldn't really get their support but Bran is a fucking Stark, why wouldn't the North support him as their king? It sounds to me that Sansa wants to be a queen or rather that the writers want her to be one. I guess she deserves it after all she's gone through, she was promised she'd be a queen at the start of the show and because of that her life was hell but still... the logic applied here isn't something I'm buying.

I hope Drogon comes back just to squish Grey Worm under his scally feet like the bug he is; goddammit I never liked this guy and I feel so much screen time has been wasted on him already. He👏needs👏to👏be👏gone👏. Speaking of Drogon, I kinda hope they show where the fuck he is and what's he doing with Danny's corpse. Maybe not that, we don't need to see her corpse, that's morbid but idk it'd be kind of fun if "he" was revealed to have a nest with eggs because oops, all this time they assumed Drogon was a male but it was actually a lady dragon and she'll come back with a vengeance. Drogon is actually Godzilla.

Jon is going to The Wall, big deal. That's where he should be, even if he died and said his watch has ended I never agreed with that.

Uff, for a moment I thought Arya was going to say she wasn't going back to the North because she was going to marry Gendry and I really didn't know how to feel but then she said the real reason. A part of me kinda wishes she'd said yes... I like to think she could've been a lady and a warrior. Her husband would do all the boring stuff and he doesn't need a knight protecting him because no matter what she always knows if he's in danger or not and would come out of nowhere with an arrow to kill whoever thinks can lay a hand on her hubby.

I don't like seeing Bronn there on that table. I didn't like his attitude this season and I haven't seen anything redeemable. Is he really ruling Highgarden? I hope Brienne suddenly stands and slits his throat? He can't rule for shit? He only thinks about himself? Why should he be there? This is the part I hate the most so far... besides Grey Worm being alive.

I'm happy for Ghost. I didn't like how Jon kind of abandoned him but now he's got his human back.

Sansa's crown was ugly. I loved that she had the red leaves of the weirdwood tree but that crown.... gurl...

With Arya I'm again conflicted... I guess I wouldn't be perfectly pleased with anything, to be honest... but I think back of the time Ned said that Arya and Sansa should be together because they needed each other. They complement each other... but I guess it's fine. Maybe at the time they did needed to be together but now they’ve grown so...

Are we going to get a spin-off of Arya going to the Dark Continent? Who’ll get there first? Arya or Kurapika?

Fuck, I really wanted a last glimpse of Drogon. Why did Bran want to know where it is? Are they going to search for it to kill it?

Overall, I’m happy. Sure, I don’t quite like some things but I didn’t hate it and I’m so glad about that because I love this show and I’ve been there before, where you enjoy a show for years and the ending is complete shit and kind of ruins everything but personally, I enjoyed it, I like this ending. I don’t care if others say it’s shit, I like it.

[n7soldiered]

          IMPORTANT  HEADCANONS  TO  CONSIDER  !

CAN THEY USE CHOPSTICKS:    Yes, he can use chopsticks.   I like to believe John is good at everything he does.  A jack of all trades but a master of none, however.   And as someone who is deeply connected to their Chinese roots, and raised in a traditional Chinese household, it pains me to say that he just stabs everything with them.  If there are noodles involved, expect him to swallow from the bowl.  ( and no, it's not rude table manners.  that’s a common misconception.  in asia, if you slurp or eat from the bowl, it's a compliment to the cook.  dunno about aliens tho ).

WHAT DO THEY DO WHEN THEY CAN’T SLEEP:   I’ve been mulling over this for the past few days ( and im gonna go off tangent ), but I’m pretty sure I’ve repeated this enough times.  If he can’t sleep and there’s shit to be done, he’s probably working.  If there’s no work to be done, which is an odd concept in itself, John probably won’t know what to do with himself for a bit.  Because he’s a total square.  And because John suffers from severe PTSD.

He suffers night terrors, oftentimes, but mostly sleep paralysis and hallucinogenic nightmares.  His trauma stems from the events of his childhood to his apparent death, as well as post-reaper war etc.  His dreams mostly consist of suffocating while in the vacuum of space, stuck in his N7 armor with no air to breathe.  For that reason, he doesn’t prefer total darkness in his cabin, and he can't sleep without having on some light.  I’m also positive that his lover has woken him up in the middle of the night due to these issues.  Still trapped in his nightmares, John just stops breathing or he wakes up, shouting.

On the really bad nights, he'll quietly move his shit over to the crew bunks and sleep there.  But if he lies awake in bed for too long, he’ll get frustrated, I’m sure.  I can see him invading the mess for food, maybe even try cooking on his own.  In short, he does stuff he doesn’t normally get the chance to do.  Oh, and if there’s someone else awake, he’d chat them up because he can’t help himself.  John doesn’t like to be alone.

WHAT WOULD THEY IMPULSE BUY AT THE GROCERY STORE:   This is timeline dependent.  As a kid/young teen, he didn’t have the money to impulsively buy random shit in a store.  As for later on, when he is an adult and has more than enough credit chits to spare, John buys anything he thinks someone will like.  I.E:  new boots for Jane; new leather jacket for Ryan; a massive cake for Jyn;  new rifle for Garrus;  new amp for Kaidan;  new makeup kit for Jack;  the list goes on.  Forever.   It’s probably awful how much he spends but, then again, counting how much currency one can gain in-game, the man is sort of rich as fuck, so it works out?

WHAT ORDER DO THEY WASH THINGS IN THE SHOWER:    I HAVE DWELLED ON THIS QUESTION FOR TEN YEARS.    And it isn’t because I'm perverted, I swear.  It’s because I first have to wonder, what the fuck is on Shepard’s mind when he gets into the shower?  What is he thinking after a long, hard battle?  What’s going through his head, after he’s killed a score of over fifty men and women, human or otherwise?  Is there regret?  Has he any doubt in the choices made?  Was he injured, is he in pain?

Are his hands still shaking from adrenaline having seared through his veins, burned his nerve endings to slag?  Is he disjointed from reality, barely able to stand on his own, in his private quarters?  Has he bothered removing his armor, before getting under the spray?  Is he still covered in blood and guts, weighed down by dirt and dross?  Is he thinking about how he almost lost a squad mate, this time?  Does his mind leap to contingencies, questions;  what if he hadn’t been fast enough, would he have been able to handle the loss while all alone, in this moment of fleeting repose?

Does he wonder what if, one day, commander Shepard just isn’t enough?

I don’t think John really washes anything in order.  He gets under the shower, and he just — he just stands there.  For a while.  At least, until EDI warns him that he’s dipping into the emergency water reserves and that he can continue his shower once the Normandy goes through one recycle sequence.  In other words, he can continue his shower after waiting 30 minutes.  If John’s in a bad place—I’m talkin’ a really bad place, she shocks him with freezing cold water to get his attention.

John usually takes it without protest, save for tensing up or yelping out a half-bitten curse.  But he always thanks EDI.  Always.  And EDI always says you are welcome.

WHAT’S THEIR COFFEE ORDER:  Please, do not EVER give John watered down sugary seasonal frappe crap.  He will hate it.  John likes the taste of bold roasts.  Bit of sugar and cream.  He likes it sweet and bitter.

WHAT SORT OF APPS WOULD THEY HAVE ON THEIR SMARTPHONE:   I         I actually don’t know.  After thinking about this for a bit, I don’t think he’d have anything particularly interesting.  Weather app, news apps, forum/thread apps revolving around politics, world news, stock, and market.  I think John isn’t one to entertain himself with electronics when he could be doing pretty much anything else than staring at his omni-tool.  In a modern verse, it’s pretty much the same.  Perhaps, just slightly less boring?

His most interesting app would definitely be p!nterest or something—and I’m not saying that because I’ve been using it a lot lately lmao.  I think the visual stimulation is the only thing that could capture his attention.  Since I don’t exactly see him as a vain type, I doubt he’d like taking pictures of himself.  No Instagram account for himself or anything like that, but, he’d definitely have an Instagram account filled with pictures of his life, his lover, his family etc.  The contrast of pictures of his dog vs him is absolutely staggering.  Overall, he’s not huge on social media.  If you need to talk to him, find him yourself etc.

HOW DO THEY ACT AROUND CHILDREN:  Oh, lord.   John doesn’t …  okay, as of now, he doesn’t know how he feels about them.  Doesn’t know what to do around children.  I mean, he’ll do his best to console a crying child, and he’s held a toddler for pictures before, but that doesn’t really make him feel any better.  If you want me to get specific, he’s borderline terrified of babies.  How do you get them to stop crying?  How do you hold them without breaking them?  Just his one hand is larger than half the baby.  John won’t know what to do with himself.

That isn’t to say he doesn’t want kids.   Be it adoption, surrogate, lab-born, it doesn’t matter how; he wants a family one day, he really does.  It’s just ... when he thinks about babies—children—he gets terrified he somehow might hurt them.  And if he ever came to accidentally hurt his own child, I don’t think he would ever forgive himself.  Honestly?  If kids are around him, he’ll go stand in a corner and hope to god nothing blows up since things do have a tendency to suddenly explode around him.

WHAT WOULD THEY WATCH ON TV WHEN THEY’RE BORED & NOTHING THEY REALLY LIKE IS ON:    Once again, John just isn’t the type of person to waste time.  There’s too much for him to do.  He’d rather do anything else than suffer from ‘boredom’.

tagged by:  @kyberborne  thank you!! tagging:  @littleredrenegade @risenspectre

[timeagainreviews]

The Eve of the Thirteenth

Recently I watched "An Unearthly Child," in preparation to write the first official article of Time and Time Again (TATA? Ok, I love that). But then it hit me that it’s a rather auspicious time to talk about the First Doctor’s first episode. With this being the eve of the first female Doctor’s first episode, it seems so appropriate. So I’m going to wait until after "The Woman Who Fell to Earth," drops.  See what I did there?

I know this blog is meant to be about revisiting episodes, but the timing is just too good. Besides, it is my blog. However, this being said, I suppose I should share my hopes and expectations for series eleven. 

Jodie Whittaker as "The Doctor"

Not since maybe Eccleston has anyone had as difficult a regeneration to overcome. While every actor new to the role feels a pressure to keep the show going, I’d say some feel it harder than others. Davison had to follow up an endearing seven-year run from Tom Baker. McGann had the pressure of trying to reestablish the show, as did Eccleston. Many people even said nobody could replace David Tennant. But the one I am reminded of the most is Patrick Troughton. Troughton was really one of those "make it or break it," Doctors. The concept of regeneration was far from established lore, it was rather a gamble.

Jodie Whittaker has a very similar weight on her shoulders. It’s another one of those "make it or break it" moments. The beauty is, I think she knows it. Everyone involved knows it. However, as much as I’ve emphasised on the pressures involved, I’m confident they chose the right woman for the job. She looks like a children’s show presenter in her costume, which is wonderfully coupled with her mad energy. For me, it’s never been about "We need a woman in the TARDIS," we need the right person in the role, and she’s perfect.

Doctor Who is the ideal show to change the gender or race of its lead. On a science fiction level, it makes total sense that the Doctor is able to change these things with ease. It’s almost laughable that it’s taken this long. It’s almost poetic. The Doctor- a man who has experienced thousands of years worth of exploration and change, still has something new to experience- womanhood. It is, as they say, about time.

The Companions

Honestly, I’m not that fussed over these companions. That’s not to say I’m disinterested or even upset with their casting. I feel confident they’ll all shine in their own ways, and live up to the show’s standard of companions. I think it’s cool that the Doctor’s friends this time around, are rather diverse. As a fan of older companions such as Wilf, or Evelyn Smythe, I am rather looking forward to Bradley Walsh as "Graham." Tamsin and Ryan both seem like they’re going to have some cute banter between the two of them. It seems pretty solid.

Many may say "That’s a pretty crowded TARDIS," but I like the bigger TARDIS crews at times, as they can be a nice way to add a new dynamic. The thing that would have actually excited me would have been a companion from the future, or past. Or even an alien companion. Not since Captain Jack, have we had anyone riding in the TARDIS who wasn’t from the present-day UK.  We got teased with it in "Asylum of the Daleks," with Oswin, and again in "The Snowmen," but then we ended up with modern day Clara Oswald. I had even hoped for Bill to be from the 80’s or 90’s. Where are the highlander companions? The Keepers of Traken? I guess Nardol sort of counts, but come on.

Chris Chibnall

Mr Chibnall is probably my biggest worry for the series. As a writer, I’ve never been all that big a fan of his episodes. "The Power of Three," was one I found particularly dreadful. When the Doctor saved the day by pointing his sonic at a screen, I felt cheated. The little cubes amounted to nothing, really. It’s not that he’s a bad writer, he’s just a bit dull. He managed to make “Dinosaurs on a Spaceship,” less exciting than the name implies. That’s probably impressive on some planets.

Overall, I think he’ll do fine, I’m just worried he’ll be a bit boring. I hadn’t worried much until he said that no old baddies would return in series eleven. Which, is fine I guess, but why not? While the Daleks and Cybermen can be really overdone (especially the Cybermen as of late), there is a wealth of villains to draw from the Doctor’s rogues' gallery. One group I’d like to see her face off against are the Axons. Whittaker’s "Godspell" evoking threads call for retro baddies!

So long as Chibnall doesn’t get too dark like he did with Torchwood (which literally felt like a little boy excited over getting to say the F-word), I’d say he’ll do fine. Parts of Torchwood were a bit "lizard brain," to its credit. Doctor Who should always have a touch of the surreal. The first episode had it. An indestructible police box, bigger on the inside, that travels anywhere in time and space? It seems normal now, but even to this day, there’s nothing quite like it. Keep the energy up, and keep it weird, you’ll do fine, Chris. It’s not like you’ll get the series cancelled again.

The New Writing Staff and Production Crew

I’ll be honest, I don’t know much anything about the writers. I’ve looked them up and read about some of their stuff, but that’s about as far as I’ve taken it. I will say however, it’s nice to see so much new blood. Men, women, people of colour, many perspectives. Doctor Who thrives on being shaken up. I’m all for it.

As for the new production crew, it’s even more of the same- happy to see someone new. I know a few people were growing tired of the whimsical look of much of the Moffat era. And at times, I kind of miss the tacky trash TV look of the RTD era. From what I’ve seen of the series 11 trailer, we’re in for something a little more grounded in reality. The cinematography looks rather simple, the sets seem plausible, if not a little dull. I’m hoping they’re hiding the big knock you on your ass sets and cinematography for the actual episodes. I would not be averse to having a show that looked as colourful as the promotional artwork we’ve been seeing. It’s gorgeous. A feast for the eyes. If the leaked TARDIS console pictures are anything to go off, I’d say they’ve kept some rather exciting secrets from us.

Segun Akinola replacing Murray Gold

Music is such an important part of Doctor Who. The theme song is both haunting and exciting: portentous of the tale about to unfold. The Radiophonic Workshop, with geniuses of sound like Delia Derbyshire and Ron Grainer, pushed not only the atmosphere of the show to greater heights but music as well. In the same vein as musique concrète, they were pioneers of electronic sound.

Upon the reveal of Akinola’s appointment as music director, I promptly sought out his SoundCloud and spent an entire afternoon listening to his stuff. I was heartened to hear he was both melodic and ambient at different times. His music is minimalist, and percussive as well. One of my biggest criticisms of Murray Gold was that he was too safe a choice. For me, he never really felt strange enough for Doctor Who.

Perhaps I am an odd duck, but I miss the days of the Third Doctor driving his bizarre car to a soundtrack of muddy synthesisers that sounded as if they wanted to murder you. The closest Gold ever came to that level of greatness was the aforementioned "Asylum of the Daleks." The music matched the tone of the episode exquisitely. I had hoped to hear more of that experimentation from him, but he never really did. Akinola seems the kind of guy who just might take us to strange places.

As we all know though, the true test will be in his imagining of the theme tune. I was never a huge fan of the Capaldi era theme. It didn’t really, slap as they say. From what I’ve heard of Akinola’s work, I’m very curious how he’s going to approach it.

Well, friends, that’s it for now. We’ve got nowt to do at this moment but wait. The next time you hear from me, it will have already happened! I hope you’re just as excited as I am! Doctor Who series 11 premieres tomorrow, the 7th of October at 6:45 pm on BBC 1!

[daebakinc]

Pennies and Dimes

Pairing: Minhyuk x Reader Genre: Fluff, Kindergarten Teacher Minhyuk AU Word Count: 4.2K Summary: Your surprise knight in shining armor turns up at a kissing booth.

           The instant Hani leaves you at the picnic table alone to find the bathrooms, he pounces.

“Hey, long time no see,” Greg says as he slips onto the bench opposite you, his disarmingly charming smile already in place.

So too is every single hair on his head and every thread of his clothes. You’d think he’d dress down for a primary school carnival, but Greg is still dressed to the nines. Everyone else got the memo for a dress code of jeans and t-shirts and floating summer dresses like the one you’re wearing. Yet here he is in khakis and a pastel polo. An almost carbon copy of what he wore in his profile picture. Really, that should’ve keyed you in before the first date. Why he was here, you have no idea, but you really wish he wasn’t.

           “Hello, Greg,” you reply, your tone painfully civil. Only the manners your mother ensured were ingrained in your very soul keep you from just walking away. Sometimes you wish she hadn’t raised such a lady. This jerk is no gentleman.

           “It’s been two weeks since our date.”

           “I am well aware.”

           “You never called me back.”

           “I thought my text was sufficient in indicating I didn’t want a second date.”

           “It was a good starting serve, but you didn’t follow up. Not a good way to keep me interested in the game,” Greg smirks.

           What the hell is taking Hani so long? Biting back a few choice words, you retort, “I think your giving the waitress your number after ogling her assets all night was end game enough.”

           He has enough courtesy to look a little embarrassed, but any good feelings towards him that might have been restored immediately go right back out the window when he reaches across the table to grab your hand. “Maybe I was looking where I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I’m a man with eyes. And I didn’t give her my number. It was just a little scribble thanking her for her excellent service.”

           You nearly choke on the bark of laughter you hold in. This guy really has some balls. He hadn’t even tried to be subtle. Not to mention you can read upside down and that heart he’d put around his number was big enough to see from the moon. “Let go of my hand, please.”

           “Come on, one more date. Just promise me one more and I’ll let go.” With a starry-eyed look he’s clearly practiced in the mirror like a B-movie love interest, he adds, “I think we have a real connection.”

           “The only connection we’re going to have is my foot connecting with your shin if you don’t get your hands off me.”

           Instead, Greg’s grip tightens, and he leans in, uncomfortably close. “You’re so sexy when you’re playing hard to get. Give me one more chance and I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.”

           Someone’s watched ‘The Notebook’ too many times. Haven’t men learned that being this pushy is no longer appreciated, if it ever was, nor is it acceptable in today’s world. That is unless they want a restraining order slapped across their too touchy palms.

           “I said,” you reply frostily, in vainly trying to pull your hand away, “let go.”

           Finally, a scowl breaks his perfect image. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not hurting you.”

           Well, you did warn him. You sigh, already regretting making a scene at a children’s event, but he’s leaving no choice by ignoring your politer requests. Maybe the happy screams of children on rides, the hawking of vendors, and ringing of games’ winning bells will mask his yelp of pain. Just as you’re rearing back your leg as best you can, a warm arm slips around your shoulder and someone’s hip bumps into yours as they slide beside you.

“There you are, babe!” the man exclaims, pulling you against his chest with one arm and successfully breaking Greg’s hold on you. With your body stiff with confusion against his, he whispers, “Just act natural and we’ll get rid of this guy, okay? Trust me.”

At first, you can only think how good your strange knight smells, your face pressed into his neck. When his words register, you nod your head. This man can’t be any worse than the one you’re trying to escape.

The stranger’s breath ghosts across your cheek in a phantom kiss before he eases away from you. Keeping the arm on your shoulder in place, he shakes a playful finger at you while sporting a puppy pout. “How could you leave your Minhyukie hanging like that? You told me to meet you by the bumper cars ages ago! I got so bored waiting by myself with no one to play with.”

His childish tone has a cringe-worthy level of syrup, but his theatrics and clever way of telling you his name has you giggling rather than wincing. Jutting your own lip out and clasping your hands, you saturate your own voice with the same baby sweetness, “_____’s sorry, Minhyukie. Hani had to go to the bathroom and I was going to come find you right after, promise.”

Minhyuk laughs. His mouth stretches in a wide grin as he tucks an invisible hair behind your ear. “Ah, how could I stay mad at you, sweetheart? I just missed my baby so much I thought I was going to die!” He glances over at a stiff Greg and starts as if noticing him for the first time. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt a conversation with your friend? I don’t think we’ve met?”

“No. He’s just a guy I went on a date with once.” You lightly poke Minhyuk’s chest with a finger. “That was before I met you of course, baby. He just stopped by to say ‘hi’ when he saw me.”

“How nice of him.” Minhyuk squeezes your shoulder and smiles at Greg. “I suppose I ought to thank you then.”

The increasingly sour look on Greg face drops into a mystified one. “Thank me?”

“Sure. If you hadn’t somehow screwed up, I wouldn’t have had a chance with this beautiful lady. So, thanks, man.”

Minhyuk sticks out his free hand towards Greg with the most guileless smile. Greg’s face turns an ugly shade of red. Mumbling something, he shoves away from the table and disappears into the crowd.

Minhyuk waits until there’s no sign of Greg before he drops his arm from your shoulder and shifts a respectable distance away. Foolishly, you instantly miss his weight and warmth. Then, you catch yourself. You’re not the type to swoon easily. You’re too old for that.

“Where the hell did you find that guy?” Minhyuk snorts, still watching the crowd. “Did he leave his fedora at home this time? I thought they were permanently attached to guys like that’s heads.”

Without thinking, you dryly retort, “Trust me, they had to perform surgery in the doorway of the restaurant on our date to get it off. Very messy but it was too late. The douche venom had already leaked into his brain. The effects were irreversible.”

Minhyuk stares at you for a full second before collapsing onto the table, his shoulders shaking with full belly laughs. You can’t help laughing along, his amusement as catching as a winter bug.

“That delivery,” he finally manages, sitting up and wiping at his eyes. “Classic. Perfect. Oh boy, I can’t breathe.”

“Please do. I’d rather not be the cause of your death when you just saved me.”

“All in a day’s work, ma’am. I see someone as clearly in distress as you were, and I have to help.” Minhyuk gives you a jaunty salute. “Besides, he looked like a piece of work.”

“Oh, he was. I deleted that dating app I found him on as soon as I got home.”

“I bet.”

“Really though, thank you,” you sigh. You hold out your hand, “I’m _____, to officially introduce myself.”

He laughs again and gives your hand a quick, friendly squeeze. “Minhyuk, to officially introduce myself.”

As you shake his hand, you take your first real look at Minhyuk and find yourself captivated. You’ve seen gorgeous men before, but there’s something special about this one. If you had to settle on one word for it, you’d go for puckish. Humor and intelligence light his eyes and gives his already handsome features a quality Hani would probably label “umph!”.

You give your head a mental shake to get your love-crazy friend out of your head. Falling for strangers in her thing. Nothing wrong with it, it’s just not your thing.

Dropping his hand before you do something stupid like drool, you take a breath. “So, can I do something to thank you? Like get you funnel cake or something?”

“That’s really sweet of you, but it’s alright,” he says, waving your offer away. “No one should be having a bad time at a carnival. I really have to get back to work too.”

“Oh. Do you work here at the school?”

“Me? No, no. I do work at a school though. I’m a kindergarten teacher in the next township over, but my friend who does work here asked me to, well more told me-”

“Lee Minhyuk!” A man whose looks shouldn’t exist outside of a fashion magazine strides from between tents and gestures at Minhyuk. “Quit flirting for free and get your butt to the booth! It’s our shift.”

“Guess I really have to go now.” Minhyuk sighs and gets up, but not before giving you another smile. You wonder if his mouth is just one made for smiling. “If that ass comes around again, kick him like you were planning to. I’ll vouch for you. Try to have some fun though.”

“I will. Thanks.”

He waves and follows his friend. It’s sad watching his back disappear, but Hani quickly fills in your vision. Dressed in cherry red overall shorts, she’d be hard to miss even if she wasn’t inches in front of you.

            “Who was that?” she asks with a grin, enunciating every word for emphasis.

           “No one,” you immediately respond.

           “Didn’t look like no one.” Hani bends down, pushing her face into yours. If you weren’t good friends, it might uncomfortable, but Hani might as well be your other half. “Hmm, nope. Still there. Not a trick of the light.”

           “What are you talking about?”

           She bops your nose. “I haven’t seen you ever look at anyone with puppy eyes. Ever.” She draws the last word out while wickedly fluttering her eyelashes.

           “Oh, shut up,” you giggle, snapping one of her overall straps. “He was just someone who helped me get rid of Greg.”

           “Eww. He’s here? Why?”

           “Don’t know, don’t care. He’s gone now, thanks to Minhyuk.”

           “Oh, so Mr. No-one actually has a name?”

           Ignoring her comment, you say, “He was more help than you were. What the heck took you so long? Did you circle the whole carnival?”

           Hani’s smile goes from impish to sheepish as quickly as a summer storm.

           “What?” you ask suspiciously, narrowing your eyes and poking her in the ribs.

           “I found out there’s a kissing booth and I got distracted, okay?” Hani slaps your hand away and slumps backwards against the table. “The three people they have are gorgeous, baby. Gorgeous, I tell you, with the prettiest, softest lips. I can’t imagine what kissing them for real for real would be like. I’d probably die.”

           “Let me guess. You kissed all three. Multiple times.”

           “Just once each. The lines were so damn long.”

           “Language! There are children!”

           “Sorry, ‘Mom.’ The lines were so dang long.”

           “Better,” you laugh.

           Hani suddenly jumps up and tugs you along with her. “We should go see if the lines are shorter! Come on!”

           Because no one says no to Hani, you follow along as she leads you through the maze of people, tents and rides. As it turns out, the kissing booth isn’t far away, it’s a ludicrous shade of sweetheart pink canopy that’s a true stand-out among the other tents. The triple lines keep you from seeing the interior booth itself.

           “Oh, thank goodness! They are shorter!” Hani races to put herself at the end of one of the lines. She looks back to you and points at the lines on both sides. “What’re you waiting for? Get in a dang line. It’s all for charity!”

           Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head as you join her. You’ll admit the idea, the spontaneity, the blitheness of it, is a little exciting. Gods, you’re so lame.

           “Oh, right, here.” Winking, Hani presses a penny and a dime into your hand. “They’re doing a competition with some other booths to see who can raise the most money in coins. It’s a penny a second up to ten seconds, so up to your discretion.”

           “You went and got a load of change while you were gone too, didn’t you?”

           Your friend says nothing, only putting her hands in her pockets to produce a merry jingling.

           Hani keeps up a constant chatter as you wait in line as if sensing you’re having second thoughts the closer you get to the front of the line. A white with bright red hearts tablecloth covers the long plastic table. Someone rigged curtains in front of each of the three kissers for a bit of merciful privacy for shyer clients, but you catch glimpses each time they’re opened. A beautiful girl waits at the opposite end of the table from you. In the middle, you’re surprised to find Minhyuk’s friend, the model guy standing there looking slightly bashful.

The butterflies in your stomach flap harder and harder. You’re too nervous to sneak a look at the person you’ll be locking lips with in a few minutes. Instead, you focus on the large canning jar sitting a little to the person’s right. Judging from its generous collection of small coins, the booth is doing very well. You try estimating how much they’ve raised so far, tuning Hani out, but then it’s your turn.

When you lift your eyes as the curtain slides open, a soft “oh” slips out.

“Hi, again.” Minhyuk beams at you like you’re the one he’s been waiting for. How did he get even more handsome in no time at all. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you giggle. Some of the butterflies escape with the relief it’s him, but they’re replaced by even more. Damnit, get yourself together, kid.

“So, what’ll be your pleasure?”

Startled, you ask, “Excuse me?”

Minhyuk nods towards the jar. “A penny for a second, a dime for ten. Lady’s choice.”

“Oh, duh, right.”

Hani’s coins burn into your palm. Just do it, you tell yourself. You’re a grown woman. It’s not a big deal to kiss someone attractive for one second or a hundred. Other people are doing it too, so no one’s judging. Despite your pep-talk, you chicken out. You tip your palm to drop the penny into the jar. But instead of one clink, there are two. Your hand is empty.

Minhyuk looks at the jar, clears his throat and flicks his black bangs from his eyes as he leans forward. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper so only you can hear, he says, “Technically we’re only supposed to do ten seconds, but I think I can get away with giving you the new friend special and bump it up to eleven just for you.”

“It’s okay, we can just do ten,” you reply in a rush.

“Nah, you paid for eleven, you’ll get eleven. Gotta be fair.” He beckons you closer with two fingers and like a bee to a flower, you obey.

You jump when Minhyuk pulls the curtain closed behind you. Unfortunately, he notices. Slowly bringing his hand back to himself, he asks, “Nervous?”

Sighing, you nod. You owe him the truth. “Yeah. A little. It’s been… awhile since I’ve… kissed anyone…”

“That’s fine. Kissing’s like riding a bike, probably even easier: your body never forgets.” Minhyuk gives you another look over. His expression and tone soften. He lays a hand lightly over yours, “You don’t have to if you don’t want. No one’ll know but us.”

That makes you laugh. “Trust me, my friend who dragged me into this will, so I better just do it.” Realizing your words could be offensive, you hastily add, “Not that I think kissing you would be something to “just do” or unpleasant. I mean, you are really cute, like really cute.”

“Thanks.” Minhyuk squeezes your hand. “Just lean forward and I’ll do the rest.”

Grateful for his taking charge, you do as he asks with one last jittery look at his pink lips and close your eyes. You wait with baited breath, every other sense heightened. The sticky plastic tablecloth beneath your tense fingers, the scents of fresh cut grass and confectioner’s sugar mingle, the sound of Minhyuk’s quiet inhales, the tingling taste of anticipation on your tongue.

Minhyuk’s finger starts tapping down the seconds when his soft lips brush yours. The touch is light, the very opposite of intrusive. It’s a kiss of a nervous teen unsure of its reception. Yet it sets your knees shaking so you have to lean against the table edge. The butterflies settle and melt, pushing your lips apart with a faint, feminine sigh.

Like a puzzle piece slipping into place, Minhyuk’s mouth adjusts to the new position. A hum, somewhere between a moan and a purr, rises from his chest to spill into your mouth like pure sugar. Your lips part again, seeking, and Minhyuk answers. The kiss heats, burning away the sounds that overcrowd the summer air and even time itself. Unbidden, your hand finds Minhyuk’s neck and clings there like it’s your only anchor to reality. Minhyuk’s hand that still rests on yours slides to your wrist and tightens as if to tug your closer.

“Minhyuk,” his friend’s voice hisses from outside the curtain. “Did you two suffocate in there?”

With the deep, heavy breaths you both suck into your lungs as you jump apart, you have to wonder if maybe you did. You can only imagine Minhyuk’s wide eyes and glistening lips are mirrored on your own face. The thin skin of your lips still tingles with the unexpected rush of the kiss.

“I think our eleven seconds are up,” Minhyuk says dazedly, his eyes on your mouth.

Neither of you have removed your hands.

“I guess so.” In slow motion, your hand slides away from Minhyuk’s skin. “Um, thank you?”

He withdraws his hand as well. Still a bit breathlessly, Minhyuk chuckles. “I guess I don’t need to apologize?”

“I was about to apologize to you.”

“How about we call it even then? Since it was mutually enjoyable.” His dark eyes fall to your lips again, lingering.

The thrilling swirling in your stomach stirs. You almost lean back towards him, but a floating hand reaches from beyond the curtain to poke Minhyuk’s shoulder, hard. It rudely reminds you where you are.

You back away, needing the distance to reclaim your head. “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your hair.”

An emotion akin to regret flashes in Minhyuk’s eyes before he quickly hides it behind a cheerful smile. “What if I liked you being in my hair?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. You can’t think of words, let alone a witty, flirty response. you back out of the curtain. Another woman pushes past you and into Minhyuk’s curtains with a giggle. You stand there, eyes frozen on the fabric, shocked at the surge of jealousy suddenly bubbling ugly in your chest.

It’s irrational. You kissed Minhyuk, but that doesn’t give you any kind of claim over him. Hundreds of people have probably kissed him since the carnival began. Who could blame them. You didn’t even know he existed before today. But you realize now that you do, you really want to know him. All of him.

Hani pops up at your elbow, all satisfied smiles. “So, how was the smooch?” she coos, nudging you with her elbow.

You study her. Hani is always encouraging you to take more chances, to follow your heart or dreams or whatever. Honestly, you’ve accused her of ghostwriting for Disney with how cheesy she can be with that kind of thing. Maybe your best friend is on to something though.

You must have gone too long without blinking because Hani’s smile becomes a puzzled frown. “What? Did my lipstick smear or something?”

“I need another penny,” you say, holding your hand out. “And that Sharpie you had earlier?”

Your friend’s frown vanishes into a brilliant smirk. As she fishes the Sharpie from one of her many pockets and hands it to you with another penny, you grab a clean napkin from a taco stand.

“Go get him, girlfriend,” Hani hoots as you get back in Minhyuk’s line, giving you a hearty swat on the butt for good measure.

As you shuffle forward in the line, you carefully hold the napkin so your damp palms don’t make the ink you hurriedly scribbled run. You must be crazy doing this to someone you just met, and admittedly kissed, but only the good ones are crazy. Or so you’ve heard.

When you finally reach Minhyuk, his eyes get a little bit wider and his mouth drops slightly open. Definitely surprised to see you, which very nearly makes you turn around and abandon your quest. But then that mouth that stole your breath with one kiss splits into a wider grin than any he’s shown you yet. It gives you courage to hope.

“Back-”

Stopping his words with a quick peck on his lips, you lean up to his ear as you slide the scrap of paper beneath his fingers. “Call me, if you want,” you whisper. Without waiting for an answer, you drop your penny in the jar and fly back out of the booth.

“You did it?” Hani asks, already bouncing when you return to her side. At your nod, she screeches in delight, earning more than a few stares. She could care less, grabbing you in a celebratory dance. “I knew I’d rub off on you sometime.”

“We’ll see if he even calls,” you answer, giggling despite yourself. Heady giddiness over what you just did has your body soaring higher than the flying swings.

“Pft. When he calls, not ‘if’ or ‘even.’” Hani hooks her arm with yours. “In the meantime, we passed a clay-oven fired pizza stand that’s calling my name. Now that I don’t have to worry about garlic breath, I can submit.”

To resist keeping your phone screen constantly lit in the fading light, you shove your phone into your dress pocket. Of course, not before making sure the volume is at its loudest and the vibrate function is on for good measure. As you wait in in line for the pizza with Hani debating on which toppings to get, you try to ignore the phone’s weight against your thigh. Willing Minhyuk to call you won’t do anything. As much as you wished for it when you were a child reading Harry Potter, your wizarding powers never manifested.

Indeed, you concentrate so hard on not thinking about Minhyuk that when your phone does ring, you jolt and squeal in surprise.

Hani’s hand dives into your pocket when you don’t move fast enough. She slides her finger on the screen to accept the call and thrusts it against your ear. Her own ear goes right next to it.

You clear your throat. Trying to balance calm and pleasure in your voice, you say, “Hello?”

“Hi. This is ____, right?”

Minhyuk’s voice is forever embedded in your mind, so you have no trouble recognizing it. “It is. I’m… really glad you called.”            “And I’m really glad you gave me your number,” Minhyuk chirps. “So, before this goes any further, I have a serious question for you.”

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about cotton candy?”

“Who doesn’t like?”

“Correct answer! Meet me and the cotton candy at the Ferris Wheel then.” Teasingly, Minhyuk makes a kissing noise into the phone before he hangs up. 

[moczothe1st]

Let’s Play Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War, Part 19: He’s a Late Blume-er

Part 18

Welcome back to FEIV! You may recall last week we killed Ishtore, a man with amazing lightning magic and truly astounding (not GOOD, but astounding) hair. He will be missed. I mean, not by me, but someone will miss him.  I mean, not his girlfriend, she also died, but…. Look, it’s a whole thing. The key is that we took his castle, and nobody is gonna be happy about it.

(See? No happiness.)

Bramsel: Men, this is our chance! Jabarro, send in your brigade! Hit them hard while their backs are turned! Leave no survivors!      

Jabarro: At once, sir!

Lene: Don’t you get it? He’s just using your loyalty to treat you like a weapon! I… I hate him so much!  

Ares: Lene… no, that isn’t…

Lene: Okay, fine! Whatever! Go with him, if you love him so much! It’s your life to waste, after all! But you can just go forget we ever met!

Ares: Lene…

(In her defense, judging by last week we can safely assume she’s worked out Ares is the only thing keeping her from getting locked up in Bramsel’s rape dungeon.)

(Yeah, here it comes. And meanwhile, at the other evil castle…)

Blume: I want you to show these rebel pigs just what the empire can do!  

One of those Three Names he Just Said: Yes, Milord. Leave it to us.  

A Second One: We will never let you down, milord.

The Third: The rebels shall be destroyed quickly, cleanly, efficiently, and utterly. Excuse us, milord.

(All three of them are identical except for eye color and the game never says which is which until they’re on the field, so.  NO clue.)

Blume: Hmmm. Everything depends on you.

(You may recall Tinni as being mentioned by a village two weeks ago, wherein they said she was much nicer than her family and the best person ever and definitely recruitable. And if Blume is her uncle, that means Taillte is her mom.  Arthur will want to have a chat with this one!)

Blume: Hmph. One would think I could expect more gratitude from someone I raised out of the goodness of my heart after her mother died. Or have you forgotten my many kindnesses?

(Ass.)

Tinni: No, uncle…

Blume: Good. Now get moving! Remember, these rebels are responsible for murdering my dear son Ishtore, and his true love Liza! Avenging them is your mission, Tinni!

Banba: We will be the ones to claim Seliph’s head as a trophy this day. We mustn’t be beaten by Tinni’s unit.  

Tinni: I… don’t know what to do anymore. Oh, mother… what would you do…?

She would probably shout a lot, if I remember her right.  Now, our phase begins and…

(Dammit, everyone needs to shut up!)

Lene: I see right through you! The moment Ares is out of sight you think it’s okay to act all tough again, you vile louse! Don’t even think about coming any closer. I don’t need Ares around to stop you!

Bramsel: Of all the nerve! You little wench!  Throw her in the dungeon! You’ll have plenty of time to think about what you’ve done there!

Lene: No! Ah… Ares…

Jabarro: Oh well. I guess it’s all in the past. You’re gonna forget ‘er sooner or later.

Ares: I beg your pardon? What exactly are you trying to say, Jabarro?

Jabarro: Heh… oh, nothing. Well, ‘cept that I bet Bramsel’s right about to…

(Oooooh, that was the wrong answer.)

Ares: T-this can’t be… Jabarro! How could you know his foul intent, yet let your tongue lie still?!

Jabarro: You can’t worry ‘bout the fairer sex, Ares. Have your fun with ‘em, but never stick around for when their lives come crashing down…

Ares: How dare you?! And to think you held my trust for so long… I must return to Darna! Lene needs me!

Jabarro: Nah, that ain’t gonna happen, see. Nobody, and I mean nobody, blows off my orders and turns tail on my watch! Not even you, kid.

Ares: … I’ve come far in your company, Jabarro, but our association ends now. If anyone wishes to stop me, Mystletainn will eagerly welcome your necks!

Jabarro: Grr… I’ll show you your place, whelp!

And with that, Ares reveals what sets him apart from his dad: he puts his personal morals above his oaths to jerks! Or he just really digs dancers, one of the two. Either way, he is now on the team!

And here’s our new BFF.  Ares is an overall phenomenal unit; like Shanan he joins up with his Holy Weapon and can therefore wreck most of the enemies on the map, but unlike Shanan he actually has pretty solid growths and will likely be a much tougher unit by the end of the game than he is now. Better still, he has a horse and comes with three great combat skills, Pursuit, Adept, and Vantage. TL;DR, we need to get this man to an Arena. For now, though, I run him south toward the rest of the army to meet his new friends.  

Now then. We have three armies to deal with. One moving south at us, following Ares. One moving west at us, with Tinni and the Three Stooges.  And one moving north to try and make one more shot at conquering Leonster.  Time to split the army. First, Fee is going to head toward Leonster, she can fly so she’ll beat the enemy there. She has an armorslayer sword and the enemy is all armor knights, she can hold the castle.  

Second, to the east, there’s two swordsmen blocking us off from getting Leif, Finn, and Nanna to the rest of the army.  Let’s move them. 

 … Finn. For shame.  But at least you can promote now. I am going to send him off to our home castle ASAP. Going north to help Ares I send Oifey, Lana, Dermott, Shanan, Ulster, Johan, Patty, and Seliph since he needs to take the castle to save Lene.  Going east are Leif and Nanna, as they’re already there, and backing them up will be Julia, Larcei, Lester, and Arthur, who is needed to recruit Tinni.  I can’t see any reason this won’t work off the top of my head, but… I mean. Fire Emblem.  

End turn!

Only one person could reach us, so this was a boring enemy phase. Next one will be much more… active. For now, though, let’s try to purge some of the northern enemy. 

Well. This didn’t go badly, but not great either, barring Lana finally getting an Aideen-tier level. I just didn’t kill off as many as I’d been hoping to, and the enemy phase will be pretty dicey.  I think I’ll have Finn stick around to help this group, rather than letting Lana warp him back to promote right away.  

End turn.  This will be…. Fun.

… *sigh* Well, I knew something could go wrong, but I didn’t see it being everyone dogpiling Johan of all people. Well, nice to be surprised, I suppose.

Reset.  

This is becoming a pattern. I do something interesting, die, and have to go back to boring old ‘sit at the edge of their range and bait them out’.  I know it works, but really.

Not bad at all! They tried to dogpile Ares this time, and like I said: he’s pretty badass. Probably would have died if Jabarro had taken a shot at him, but since it was specifically Jabarro’s range we were staying away from, we pulled through just fine. Now, to the eastern front.  

… That was just sad, Leif.

Okay, our turn.  First thing to do is clear out Jabarro’s unit. The man himself is a giant pain, packing both a Silver Sword and a Skill Ring to leave him obnoxiously accurate. Let’s send in some heavy hitters to roll him down.  

And Shanan gets the skill ring, which he absolutely does not need. He does need money, however, so selling that later will be a nice source of income for him to keep Balmung nice and shiny.  And from here, it’s really just a nice, normal purge.  

And hey, Ares can chat with Seliph.  I wasn’t planning to do it right now, but they ended up next to each other, so why not.

Ares: They call me the black knight, Ares. Perhaps you would recognize me better, however, as the son of Eldigan.  

Seliph: What?! It cannot be… you don’t mean the legendary Lord Eldigan of Nordion, do you?!

Ares: The very same! I am the son of Eldigan the Lionheart, the man your father killed in cold blood! My noble mother, the Lady Grainne, died wracked with grief and rage at Sigurd! It is high time you knew my family’s pain!

(Weeeeeeren’t you an infant at the time, bro? How do you know?)

Seliph: That’s… I don’t understand. As I was told, your father and mine were the closest of friends. As tragic as their end was, I don’t believe our fathers would ever have begrudged each other.

Ares: That’s impossible… Sigurd was my father’s mortal foe! This… this is all I’ve known my entire life…

Seliph: Please listen, Ares. Would you consider traveling with my army? I know we can resolve this misunderstanding, if we just give it some time. I hold the late Lord Eldigan in the utmost respect, just as my own father did. Please, understand this.

(I don’t respect him very much, if that helps.)

Ares: Seliph… very well. I can stay my hand for now. However, be warned. Should I learn that even a single word of your claim is false, your life is forfeit in your father’s place. Do I make myself clear, Seliph?

Seliph: if that happens, then do as you must. Ares… I wish you could know just how ecstatic our fathers would be to know we’ve met at last. If only it had been under better circumstances…

Neat. Now, where were we? Oh right, IN THE MIDDLE OF A WAR.

*snerk* I like how it took three people together to bring down the first Mage Sister, and Arthur alone completely wrecked the second.  Anyway, I have him and Julia blocking off the enemy; as long as Tinni doesn’t fuck this up and try to kill her invincible brother, I think we’re in a good place.

…

She’s gonna, huh.

*sigh* End turn.

Okay. So far so good. But there’s still one more…

Julia, I know you hunger for blood, but please don’t kill this one.

Tinni you magnificent bitch, dodging on a 93% hit chance. I love you.

Our turn, and I start it with Arthur:

Arthur: Really?! Then you’re Tinni! Oh, I’ve finally found you!

Tinni: Er… who are you?

Arthur: Here, maybe this will clear it up. This pendant is exactly the same as yours, and I’ve had it my whole life.

Tinni: Y-you’re right, but… what are you saying?

Arthur: See, years ago, my mother was a warrior in Sigurd’s army, and after the war she fled to Silesse with her children. When I was little, my mother and my newborn sister disappeared… I was left behind with nothing but this pendant. I only recently learned what happened. It was King Blume of Alster. He abducted them. He took my family from me. The rumors all said Mother had died awhile ago, but they also said my sister is still alive. That’s you, Tinni! I’ve finally found you after all these years! I came all this way just to see you again…

Tinni: I… I never even knew Blume did that to Mother… it makes sense, though. I can’t remember much of her, but I know I never saw her smile or laugh. You’re… my brother… ohhh… sniff…

Arthur: Would you play down your arms and join our army, Tinni? We’ve still got so much to talk about.

Tinni: Mm. Thank you, brother. I never did want to fight…

And that’s that. Let’s take a look at our new recruit:

And there’s Tinni! She gets a lot of flak because she’s hard to build super-well, but honestly I like her. She’s also hard to make bad; she doesn’t have Pursuit, but neither did Taillte and she did just fine. I suspect the people who don’t like Tinni are mainly the people who didn’t really like her mother either; I know she has a pretty wide selection of the fandom who view her as too poorly-built to use and she should be left childless. But unlike most of these chuckleheads, Tinni actually has a character arc, and for me that’s enough to bring her along. And you know, it’s not like she’s bad at combat. Wrath, Adept, and Critical are all fine skills, and while she won’t have growths as good as her crazy brother’s, she’s still got two different Holy Bloods.  In my experience, she’s gonna get on just fine.    

………………………

And then, I don’t know, either I forgot to save or my file got corrupted and I lost the last two turns. I… I was very sad. So I had to re-do them, and since that many shots would make the update unbearably long, I will summarize:  Ares got half the levels (people kept ignoring him to go after Ulster this time?) but he was able to kill his old boss and get the Skill Ring, Patty got a very good level thanks to Dermott leaving some half-dead dudes behind, and Julia almost murdered Tinni.   But, on the plus side, Finn finally got warped home to promote.  

*whistle* Take a look at that 25 Strength. That much power and a Brave weapon basically sets him up for the rest of the game, because he is gonna hit like a runaway freight train. Might have to be careful on defense, he’s only above-average in Speed and Defense and has no resistance worth mentioning, but as an offensive unit he’ll be a monster.  Let’s test him out in the arena while we’re here, he won’t be needed on the battlefield again for this map.

Finn: Seven wins, gained no levels. He might be a bit overpowered.  

Okay! End turn, this is going pretty well barring the occasional horrible glitch that I hate.  

…. Well, other than that. I underestimated how quickly they’d get to Leonster and… *cough* may have forgotten to move Fee once or twice, so I think the enemy will be taking the castle after all. It’s not a big deal, they’re really expected to, but I’m still a little annoyed this is happening because I didn’t think.  Ah, well, it will just be a quick detour to liberate it after Seliph finishes up at Darna. I have him head toward it, his army pausing at the edge of the defenders’ movement range (see, I can learn) and have the eastern group start moving up toward Leonster. Fee pauses in a position to challenge one or two of the armors, hopefully the whole group will turn to chase her and she can run up to the castle and hide inside.  End turn!

Jerks. You know, it’s kind of unfair that any of them can take a castle, but we can only have Seliph do it.  

God, you are just like your mother.

To the north, Darna’s defense line doesn’t take the bait. They must not move until attacked. Well.

Their loss. At our other army, I have Fee take out one armor unit:

And then run away, hiding out over the ocean to her west to avoid any other counter attacks.  She hasn’t got much health left, so she needs to avoid any damage until I can get Nanna or Julia up there to help her out. They’re on their way, so this will be turning around shortly.  End turn; no enemies are close enough to take a swing at us, so it goes immediately back to our player phase.  

Fantastic. Darna will fall on our next turn, and shortly after that the other team should be running into the unit who took Leonster. Fee probably won’t even die.  End turn! Once again, nothing on the enemy phase; they’re moving toward us, but they’re on the slow side.  On our turn, Julia patches up Fee to gain a level.

Hehehe. I’m legit impressed by how well her speed is doing, it tends to be a lower growth.  The rest of their unit parks on the local villages to await the incoming storm o’ units.  

Now then, Darna. First, clear the last defender:

 Bramsel is a general, despite appearances, and stat-wise he isn’t super impressive. His one and only real trick is that he’s packing a Horseslayer weapon, so cavalry had better be sure they’re gonna take him down if they take a swing at him.  He’s got no defense against distance attacks, but, like a doofus, I sent all the mages to the other army.  So, uh, Oifey… wanna try that javelin?

Bramsel: Darna is my city! Mine! Nobody will ever take it from me!

Well, it’s a start. Not sure this will work, but… Seliph, wanna give it a shot?

FUCKING PAVISE. Okay, so Darna will fall next turn.  End turn. Ya jackass game.

And that’s Bramsel. Our turn begins, and Seliph takes the castle.  

Lewyn: It was the last free land in Jugdral. In battle after battle, the overwhelming might of the Loptyr Empire had devastated the resistance. Ultimately, the last of the resistance soldiers barricaded themselves within Darna’s walls. Battered and wounded, they were nonetheless determined to fight to the bitter end. But then, suddenly, there was a miracle… from the heavens descended twelve gods, who bestowed upon twelve young warriors miraculous weapons and immense power. Thus were born the Twelve Crusaders, the heroes who led the resistance to victory.

Seliph: That was the legendary Miracle of Darna, yes?

Lewyn: The very same. And even as we speak, Seliph, another miracle is dawning. Just as the resurrection of Loptyr looms on the horizon, so too are the Crusaders themselves arising in our world once more…

Seliph: I beg your pardon?

Lewyn: Heh… don’t worry Seliph. You’ll understand soon enough.

(Well. Seliph may not have a ton in common with his father, but he clearly has Sigurd-tier obliviousness.)  

And of course he can’t rescue Lene because Seliph is standing in the way. Ironic, really; we could save Lene, our dancer, if we had a dancer to move Seliph. That’s Fire Emblem Philosophy 101, kids.  In any case, Lana starts warping people back to Melgen so they can have a shorter walk to rejoin the remaining action; Shanan goes first and Lana levels up.

Then, while he’s at a friendly castle, Best Prince takes the opportunity to run the Arena.

Shanan: Seven wins, gained one level: +1 HP, +1 Skill, +1 Speed, +1 Defense.

*sniff* I may cry. He’s doing much better than I’d expect from him, I tell you that much.

Now, to deal with the Leonster enemies, who are (finally) in range.

… Am I being trolled? Nanna? Are you trolling me? Because you’re doing the same fucking thing Ethlyn did.  You aren’t her child, Nanna. Leif is. If Leif didn’t get any magic ever I could understand it.  That’s genetics. But you’re just the same damn class!  I hate you.  

End turn.  Bitterly end turn.

…. Bitterness increasing.

*sigh* 25% chance to hit and she took it right on the jaw. Fire Emblem, ladies and gents!

Let’s… try this again. This time, let’s go mainly for the commander and try to take away their Leadership Stars, see if that works out better.

… Welcome to the team, Ethlyn 2. 

*sigh* Well, better. Nobody is dead, anyway.  Lana warps Seliph back to Melgen so he can start the long trek over to take some castles for us, and Ares goes into Darna to rescue his gal.

Lene: Ares…

Ares: Oh! Is everything okay, Lene?!

Lene: N-no… it’s not… but someone from the liberation army rescued me… and… I knew you’d come, Ares…

Ares: Lene… I beg your forgiveness… I was a fool! I should have heeded you…

Lene: It’s okay… after all, you’re here now…

Ares: I swear to you, I’ll never let this happen again.  

Lene: And I swear I’ll try to keep my big mouth to myself from now on! Don’t ever leave me again, Ares…

… Dark! Anyway, Lene has no signed up, and as you might have guessed she is Sylvia and Claude’s daughter. And like her mother before her, her stats and all that junk are irrelevant so I don’t need to waste time showing it! She’s a dancer so she’s amazing and will be very, very useful to the army in any situation. And unlike Sylvia, we can actually use her from day one because it doesn’t matter if she gets married.  Go team!

Oh, and speaking of the team, time to finish that actual ‘war’ thing.

Not bad at all, barring the fact Arthur has apparently decided he’s done with Perfect Levels. And with that, the map is basically over. The only enemy units remaining are Blume himself and the three generals in front of his castle. So it’s time, I think, to have assorted folks and units do stuff. I sell Seliph’s Brave Sword so I can pass it around, and have anyone who hasn’t finished the Arena take a shot at it.

Patty: Up to seven wins, gained two levels: +2 HP, +2 Skill, +1 Strength, +2 Luck, +1 Defense

Julia: Up to seven wins, gained one level: +1 HP, +1 Magic, +1 Luck, +1 Defense, +1 Resistance

Ares: Seven wins, gained two levels: +2 HP, +2 Strength, +1 Speed, +2 Luck, +2 Defense

Nanna: Seven wins, gained three levels: +3 HP, +2 Strength, +2 Speed, +1 Magic,, +1 Defense, +2 Luck, +1 Resistance

Leif: Seven wins, gained two levels: +2 HP, +1 Skill, +2 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Luck, +1 Defense

Tinni: Seven wins, gained three levels: +3 HP, +2 Skill, +3 Speed, +1 Magic, +3 Luck, +1 Resistance

Also, Lana gains some levels from zapping people around:

And some conversations happen.

(“Ugh. More of the commonfolk. Oifey, where is my peasant-beating stick?!”)

Lene: I’m Lene, the Dancer!

Seliph: Y… you’re Lene?

Lene: Ooooh? Mister Seliph, is this the first time you’ve ever seen a dancer?

Seliph: Y-yes, miss…

Lene: Hee hee… that’s adorable!

(And it ends there. Lene knows what she wants in life, and it is to laugh at dorks.)

(

... Picture here an image of Leif introducing himself to Seliph. No such image exists because I’m a doofus.)

Leif: My parents both died in the Battle of Belhalla’s prelude… they were felled by a Thracian ambush. My homeland, Leonster, soon founds itself in the clutches of an Imperial occupation, and fell under the reign of its Duke Blume. If not for my knight, Finn, I wouldn’t be here today. He raised me in hiding in nearby villages, and we awaited the day Leonster would rise again.  We thought that day had finally come, but…

Seliph: … We both took to the battlefield around the same time, did we not? By now practically all of Jugdral knows of King Blume’s brutality. I sorely wish my army had arrived soon enough to properly aid you. You have my deepest apologies, Prince Leif.

Leif: No, Lord Seliph. I’m the one who should be apologizing. Our failure was squarely my fault.  However, this isn’t over yet. I am the son of Quan, a man worthy of being dubbed a Knight of Nova. I refuse to shame his legacy, and so I’ll live on. I’ll fight on, no matter the cost. To that end, Lord Seliph, my comrades and I would like to join your army.  I may not have much of an army left, but what I do have is yours. May we serve you well in restoring honor to Grannvale.  

Seliph: Thank you, Prince Leif.  Often have I heard it said that our fathers were inseparable friends, bound together to the bitter end in both life and death.  Not to mention your mother, Queen Ethlyn, is also my aunt…

(“Oh yeah, we’re literally cousins, forgot for a bit!”)

Seliph: Both of your parents gave their lives to support my father’s cause. Prince Leif, you have my deepest, most heartfelt apologies for their sacrifice.

Leif: Thank you, but that isn’t necessary. I’m proud of my parents, and have the utmost respect for Lord Sigurd. The only hatred I bear is for the true villains, Emperor Arvis and King Travant!

(Holy crap, Leif is logically blaming the people actually at fault? Are we sure he’s an anime teenager?)

Seliph: As do I. Prince Leif, in the name of our late fathers’ last wishes, I seek to restore peace and light to all of Jugdral. Please, join me in my cause!

Leif: Yes, milord! You have my blade as your own!

Dermott: Perfect! I’m your brother, Dermott!

(“Excuse me? I was always told my brother’s name was Diarm-“ “YUP, DERMOTT, THAT’S ME.”)

Nanna: What?! What… are you talking about…?

Dermott: I didn’t know until recently, either. King Lewyn told me everything.   In the war seventeen years ago, I was with the kids who fled to Isaach. But you were born after our mother went to Leonster.

Nanna: You… you’re my brother? Then where’s Mother now?!

Dermott: Er… ‘Where’s Mother’?  What are you getting at here, Nanna?

Nanna: I haven’t seen her in so long… when I was around three years old, she left us and traveled alone to Isaach, to try and find you. She never came back. I’ve waited to see her again for years…

Dermott: She did? But… but I never saw her…!

Nanna: You… didn’t? Then where is she…

Dermott: The Yied Desert… it’s a treacherous place. Very few lone travelers survive it…

Nanna: … No! Oh, mother…

(And Nanna gains +1 Luck from that, because… tragedy… builds character…?)

Tinni: I am Tinni… Arthur’s sister…

Seliph: Ah, of course. I’ve been told your story, Tinni.

Tinni: Um… I’m sorry!

Seliph: You’ve nothing to apologize for, Tinni. With the likes of King Blume for an uncle, I completely understand. You had no choice.

Tinni: Are… are you forgiving me, sir?

Seliph: Certainly! There’s no question that you’re not our enemy, and it would be an honor to have you with us.

Tinni: Wow… you’re everything the stories say you are! I wish we could’ve met sooner…

Seliph: Heh… thank you. Listen, Tinni… I know fighting your own family is a painful prospect, so please, don’t force yourself if you’re at all uncomfortable.

Tinni: Sir…

He actually means that literally.  Tinni vs. Blume is very painful to her, in a very literal, physical way.  He’ll kick her ass.  

All right. Now that we’ve gotten that all done, and Seliph has gone up to retake Leonster, the rest of the army turns to Blume.  He’s guarded by three generals, all of whom have Silver Blades and Steel Bows, so there isn’t a safe range to hit them from. But that’s nothing new. The real problem is Blume himself.

Yeah. Yeah. You remember Mjolnir, I hope, from when Reptor made our lives hell with it.  Well, Blume takes after dear old dad.  He can’t double attack with it, his only ability is Pavise, but he’s still very fast and hits very hard. And to make matters worse he has a droppable Silver Blade, so ideally we want someone who can use swords to bring him down. Realistically that means ‘Shanan or Ares’ because another Holy Weapon is your best shot at doing it without dying.    

So first things first, let’s move the guards.

Geez, these guys are beefy. That was to kill one of them.  Ulster, can you do better?

… Sorrrrrrta? He didn’t get hit in return, at least. But I also can’t get anyone else in position to support him, so he’s probably gonna get pounded in the face next turn.  Speaking of next turn, end turn!

CALLED IT!

Okay. Our turn, and there’s only one general left. Let’s clear that fucker out before we do anything else.

Ugh. I should point out that this is not actually the land of the Omni-Generals; Blume has four leadership stars and he buffs his troops up considerably. I take a few turns here to rest up, heal up, and send Shanan to liberate the remaining villages because he’s desperately short on cash.  Julia levels from healing:

You might have noticed she didn’t gain a point of magic? She’s already hit the cap. Can’t go higher until she promotes. I love my princess. <3

Now. Blume. He has conversations with three different characters, two of whom should not be allowed anywhere near him.  Since I love you guys, and I’m willing to use save states to cheese for story content, here they are.

(Frankly, I’m just amazed she hit him.)

Blume: Hmph! A likely retort, but only one of us will die this day, and it shall not be me!

(Well, he wasn’t wrong.)

Blume: Gah… impudent whelp! Just try me!

*whistle* Well. It was a close thing, but he clearly tried real good. It was caught at a bad moment, but that last shot was a crit that left Blume with only 13HP. And Ares is in range!  

Yeah, we’re not done with this jackass just yet.  Still, for the moment, Ares has a backup sword to use so he doesn’t burn through his Mystletainn all the time, and that’s all I asked for. Shanan spends the next few turns getting paid:

(Well. Only one now.)

Info Master: Ishtar’s ruling over Manster right now, and Ishtore’s posted at Fort Melgen, both doing Blume’s dirty work. Unlike their folks, they’re fine youths. You’ll be sure to face ‘em sooner or later… be on your guard, stranger.

(“They’re great kids! But, you know, they definitely will try to kill you.”)

Why Is He Smiling: His rule’s been one tragedy after another… Just when we thought he couldn’t get any worse, now he’s just letting those child hunts happen! We can’t take this anymore…

And with that, nothing else to do on this map, so let’s call it a day. Seliph, do the honors!

Lewyn: Eh, these sorts of things can’t be helped. After all, the war’s only just beginning.  

Seliph: And yet, the citizens are already all so eager to support us! I’ve seldom seen such joy…

Lewyn: For the first time, they’ve got hope for a future free from the Empire’s abuse.  YOU are the people’s last hope, Seliph, but the worst of the war still lies ahead.  

Seliph: Mm. And yet, I’ve so much incredible talent fighting by my side! With such amazing men and women with me, I know no challenge will be too great!

(I kind of morbidly wonder what he says if you let everyone die except him at this point.)

Lewyn: Yeah… you’ll all do just fine, Seliph.

 *whew* Well. Thank you for being chill about this for once, Lewyn.  I enjoy you more when you aren’t bitching at me.  Now then, see you all next week when… *shudder*

When Blume calls in… … … …

Her.

Resets: 24. It’s all downhill from here, folks.

Part 20

[gray-autumn-sky]

To the Future and Fox Hats

Set in my You’ve Got Mail Verse - Roland in the hat above (sort of lol)

For Dany’s birthday. Happy 21st!

Regina’s stomach flutters nervously as she shifts herself on the couch, reaching for her wine and curling her feet beneath herself. This is her third official date with Robin, but they’re hardly in a place where most couples would be upon a third date. For months, they’d traded letters--getting to know each other and falling in love. For awhile, it had all been anonymous--something fun and flirty to fill their time, giving them each a sort of pseudo-companionship, filling the void that a real companion might.

She hadn’t been looking for love, at least, not this sort of love, and it took her by surprise--especially when she learned who he was. At that point, she’d been convinced it could never work between them. In their real, everyday lives, he hated her-- and with good reason. She’d been trying to destroy his career for her own professional gain, and rarely did she allow anyone to see beyond her tough exterior. She knew the way others perceived her--a black widow in the publishing world--and she did nothing to change that. In fact, she embraced it. She liked that the men who dominated her field feared her, she liked that they viewed her as icy and cold, and she wore the bitch badge they’d pinned to her proudly.

That was who she was professionally, that was what she presented to the world, and she had no interested in letting down her guard or allowing anyone to see past her the façade she’d worked so hard to build. So that was the woman Robin Locksley knew--and, therefore, could never love.

But she was wrong--and she’d never been so glad for it.

“You like asparagus, right?” he calls out, looking up at her from the stovetop where he stands. “If not I have green beans as a backup.”

Laughing softly, she nods. “Asparagus sounds amazing.”

“Good, because the green beans are of the canned variety,” he admits, offering a sheepish grin. “My son only eats vegetables from a can. He thinks the fresh kind would kill him, I think.”

She laughs, remembering when Henry was Roland’s age and staunch in his belief that oranges and orange juice completely tasted nothing alike, that cake and cupcakes were completely different, and that bologna sandwiches were disgusting, but hot dogs were his go-to meal of choice.

“Are you sure I can’t help?”

“Positive.”

“I… just feel sort of useless,” she admits. “And I like to cook.”

“I know you do,” he tells her, grinning as he looks to her. “But I’m giving you a night off.”

She feels her cheeks warm as she sips her wine, grinning over the rim as her gaze falls away from his. Robin Locksley is nothing if not considerate of her, and she’s not sure she’s ever had anyone like him in her life.

That afternoon, after a business meeting that went on for far too long, she’d returned to her office to find a little white envelope sitting on her chair. She’d immediately recognized his hand writing on the front of it, spelling out her name, and she brightened as she opened it, remembering the letters they’d exchanged and how she’d looked forward to them.

Her finger slipped beneath the seal, pulling out a little note card that explained that Robin found himself free for the evening and wondered if she was available for dinner at short notice. Belle was taking Roland on a date, of sorts, to see 101 Dalmations on the big screen at some fancy theatre uptown. Afterwards, she was taking him for a dinner of his choice--which he knew would be fast food--and since they’d be getting in late, she’d offered to keep him for the night, leaving him completely free for the evening.

By the time she’d finished reading the card, Emma was standing in her doorway, wearing a stupidly sly grin as she asked if she needed someone to take Henry for the night--and when she cautiously said that she might, Emma nodded knowingly, admitting she’d already planned a night of pizza and arcade games that she’d probably enjoy more than Henry would.

She’d gone through the rest of the day with butterflies in her stomach--and Emma and Ruby teasing her about what a third date meant, and how convenient it was that they’d be all alone at his apartment. She’d rolled her eyes at the notion, but when it came time to pack Henry’s overnight bag, she found herself packing one for herself… just in case.

“It’s almost ready,” he tells her, grinning. “And I have to say, for a guy who makes mac-n-cheese four nights a week and chicken nuggets the other three, I’m rather impressed with myself.”

“I’m sure I’d agree… if I knew what you were up to in there.”

He grins. “Well, you know about the asparagus.”

“Right,” she laughs, taking another sip of her wine. “That solves it all.”

“I will tell you, though, that if this doesn’t pan out, I’ve got a frozen lasagna ready to go in the freezer.”

“Again,” she says, uncurling her legs and leaning forward, trying to catch a glimpse into the kitchen. “I am a fantastic cook. I would love to hel--”

“Sit.”

“But--”

“No,” he grins, his eyes falling to her nearly empty glass. “You need more.”

“Oh--” Before she can decline, thinking it might be best to wait until dinner is served before she has another glass, Robin is rounding the counter that divides the rooms, a bottle of apple riesling in hand. “Well, if you insist.”

“I do,” he tells her, topping off her glass. “And if you’re bored--”

“No, no, no. I’m not. That’s not why I--”

He chuckles softly as her voice trails off, his blue eyes sparkling in a way that makes her feel giddy and nervous, and a bunch of other things she’s only just getting used to feeling again. “Well, if you’d like something to do to pass the time while I’m finishing up dinner,” he says, “There are some magazines over there, books, too. I’m sure you can find something.”

She nods, as he disappears into the kitchen again and she grins as she watches a little puff of steam rise up when he lifts the lid to stir whatever it is he’s cooking.

Rising up from the couch, she wanders over to the bookshelf that spans the length of the wall. Being in publishing and bookselling, it’s always something she pays attention to when she visits other people’s homes--and she’s not at all surprised to see a lot of Hemingway, biographies of explorers, like Meriwether Lewis, and tales of legendary Native American chiefs. She scans the spines, noting a particularly well-loved copy of the Nick Adams Stories and equally loved copy of Elizabeth Barrett Browning poems that does surprise her. The lowest two shelves are filled with children’s books, things ranging from Clifford the Big Red Dog to Harry Potter to a few Choose Your Own Adventure-type books.

And then, on a little ottoman beside an overstuffed armchair, there’s a cooking magazine. She can see the dog-eared pages and curiosity gets the best of her--and when the first page falls open to prosciutto wrapped asparagus, her grin turns to a full-on smile.

Somehow, the thought of him pouring through old cooking magazines--all of which are addressed to Belle--picking out dishes that are far out of his kid-friendly comfort zone and dishes he thinks she’d like, makes her heart flutter a bit.

Catching her lip between her teeth, she glances up to see Robin very focused on stirring something--and when she flips to the other dog-eared pages, she decides he’s probably working on the risoto. She giggles a little, remembering something about risoto that she’d written in a letter--something about the effort it takes and how it's the sort of dish you serve to show someone they’re worth your time.

The main course, she realizes will be baked salmon, and the apple-cinnamon smell that consumed her as soon as she entered the apartment likely wasn’t a scented candle as he’d claimed, but a cinnamon apple crumble cake.

She smiles and bites down harder on her lip, setting the magazine down as she watches him stirring with a sort of focused determination that’s nothing short of endearing--and then, as she looks away, a framed picture of a toddler-aged Roland catches her eye.

“Oh my god,” she breathes out, reaching for the picture to get a better look at the curly-haired, dimple-cheeked little boy with big brown eyes, grinning a nearly toothless grin as he sits in a mound of leaves, holding onto one rather large maple leaf. He’s wearing a thick brown quilted jacket that’s open over his jean overalls and a little orange and blue flannel shirt, and on top of his head is a little knit fox hat that just might be the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

It has little ears sticking up and tiny button eyes, and black little nose that seems to take up half of Roland’s forehead. Unruly little curls stick out from underneath the hat, and clipped to the pockets of his coat are matching little gloves that look like fox paws--and the sound that escapes her would be embarrassing in anyone else’s company.

“You found the fox hat picture,” Robin says, not looking up from the risoto.

“How did you know?”

“That’s… usually the response it earns.”

She laughs a little. “He’s just so cute.”

“I know,” Robin says, grinning. “He was obsessed with that hat.”

“Was he?” she asks, her brow arching. “Or were you.”

“I think it was a little of both.”

“I’m sure--”

“He didn’t like his ears to be cold, so he’d try to sleep in it.”

“And I’m sure you let him.”

“Of course,” Robin replies easily, chuckling softly. “I’d come into his room and his head would be pressed against the mattress, those little ears poking up, and his butt in the air--”

“That’s adorable--”

“It was,” he agrees. “It was a sad day when I realized it no longer fit him. I still have it, though.”

“I’m sure you do,” she says, finally placing the frame back on the table next to the chair, but keeping her eyes on Roland’s smiling little face. “That’s a keeper.”

“Mm,” he murmurs, “I… always sort of hoped I’d get to use it again.”

She blinks, her shoulders stiffening a bit as she looks back to him. He’s grinning sweetly and he looks a bit unsure--and when a slow grin edges onto her lips, a smile breaks out across his making her heart skip a beat and her stomach flutter.

“Just a thought… for another time.”

She nods, biting on her lip. “Definitely,” she agrees, distracted by what that might mean and finding herself enjoying the prospects. Now, isn’t the time, of course, but it's easy to get caught up in the maybes with him, easy to picture a future with him, and it's reassuring to know that she’s not alone and they both seem to be headed in the same direction.

But for now, she decides as a timer dings, she just wants to enjoy a quiet dinner and see where the evening takes them.