#they just talk exactly like teenager here did in 2016

[avocadontdie]

tschick calling a bunch of cows opfers and telling them to go away is still one of the funniest things ever

[tgmsunmontue]

Online & Anonymous 14/16

Hangster. Explicit. Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship.

>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)

>>Jake chatting (italics)

2005/2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016 2017 2018

2019 – Bradley

                Reconnecting with Jas after nearly a year and a half of no contact feels like a fragile glass butterfly in his hands, one he’s scared to hold too firmly in his hands, terrified it will shatter if he moves wrong. He continues sending pictures of his morning cup of coffee, although it’s just with a heart emoji now; no daily apology. Simply an acknowledgement that he thinks of him pretty much as soon as he wakes up. He doesn’t always get one back immediately, but their time zones are very different right now. Jas has admitted that sometimes he takes the photo and saves it to send, so he can pretend they’re sharing, existing at the same time. Bradley admits to wanting to be able to make him coffee every morning. Knows exactly how he takes it.

                His leave has been approved for December, and he’s put in a cushion of an additional week either side to allow for missed flights and natural disasters and he’ll fucking go AWOL if he has to. He hasn’t shared his little contingency plan with Jas, but he will if worst comes to worst. He doesn’t let himself think about it too much, or look forward to it. Doesn’t want to build it all up for it to crumble down around him again. And he’s working very hard to ensure he doesn’t sabotage himself. Not this time. His therapist has given him a lot to think about and sometimes he really hates how right they are.

                Right now though he’s in Ramstein working with the Airforce, some cooperative training gig and he’s trying to use it as a cultural thing, but he feels like he could just be on a base somewhere, anywhere, back home. For some reason it makes him feel homesick for what he thinks must be the first time in his life. Last Christmas he’d spent it with Ice and his family for the first time since he was a teenager. Their relationship healed enough now for him to realize and regret how many years he’s lost. He guesses the maturity and therapy have probably helped, although he sometimes feels like a little kid again, seeking out attention and approval. One of Ice’s kids has kids themselves, and that is wild to him. Ice can’t talk very well, but considering how expressive his face can be when he chooses it to be he’d had entire silent conversation with Bradley while he’d been staying.

…            …            …

>>I’m in Germany.

>>Huh. I’m in Japan.

>>Oh. I like Japan.

>>We’ll have to go together sometime.

>>Wait.

>>What are you doing in Germany?

>>What do you mean?

>>I’m deployed here?

>>Uh. I know you’re Navy. I mean. Yeah.

>>You let it slip years ago.

>>Oh. Shit. Did I?

>>I didn’t realize.

>>Yeah.

>>So. Only seems fair to tell you I’m Navy too.

>>Shit. Really? God. What are the chances?

>>Well, I crunched the numbers few years ago, and they’re not that farfetched.

>>Of course you did.

>>And I’m in Germany helping out with a cooperative training exercise. Just a short four month stint and then back home in June.

>>You sure you don’t want more details?

>>Positive. I like the idea of us having some topics of conversation we haven’t covered.

                He desperately just wants to blurt it out, has in fact tapped out his name and exactly what he does, only to delete it all. He’ll respect Jas’s wishes, even if he doesn’t like them. Even now, knowing they’re both in the Navy and Bradley could, if he wasn’t respecting Jas’s personal boundaries, call Ice and ask him to pull every active-duty man with the initials JAS and born in 1986. Surely there aren’t that many.

>>Talking has never been something we’ve struggled with.

>>Have you seen the new How to Train your Dragon movie?

>>Weirdly, I have. Why?

>>Well, I’ve only been able to watch it in German. I think I understand what is happening, but can you run me through what exactly they were looking for? I didn’t get why it was so important.

                He wants to ask why Jas has seen a movie for kids, but he doesn’t, instead waits for Jas to fill in all the bits of plot Bradley missed due to watching the film in the nearby town with a German dub rather than watching it on base.

…            …            …

                “Bradshaw. The CO would like to see you.”

                He nods his head to acknowledge the words and heads off immediately. He doesn’t know why he’s being summoned but he’s not going to start disobeying orders or summons. He knocks on the door and waits to be called in.

                “Lieutenant. You’ve been called in for a special detachment. You leave for North Island at seventeen-hundred.”

                “Today sir?”

                “Yes. A matter of urgency it seems. A shame, you’re a damned good instructor and flier. I’ll be sure to have you back.”

                “Thank you sir.”

                He’s handed the papers, a mere formality now, he’ll have electronic ones sitting in his HR account. He’s got a few hours to pack, say some goodbyes. North Island. Of all places. Okay. He’s heading back stateside.

…            …            …

                He manages to get some sleep on the flight, then rest and report in. North Island is home and it also isn’t. He always feels mixed up emotionally when he’s here, too close to his parents and all his memories with Maverick growing up. He goes and collects the Bronco from storage, unsurprised to find a note telling him it’s been serviced and run, and he swings by to visit Ice, who doesn’t seem surprised to see him at all. He looks tired though, wearing a thick jacket and scarf despite the warm spring day. Bradley knows better to mention anything, Sarah having warned him. He stays for lunch, plays with the grandkids and then, because Ice is an angel amongst men, heads to the Hard Deck where he’s just been told his best friend probably is. The fact that she’s also been called to whatever this mission is fills him with pride, she’s a damned fine aviator, definitely better than him in some respects; and definitely able to make the most of having a back seater.

                Of course she’s pissed off with him for not telling him that he was going to be here, and he can’t exactly tell her he only knows because the COMPACFLT dropped him a message. He does mutter about being in a different country less than twenty-four hours ago but she just pulls a face at him and he knows she doesn’t accept it as a reason or an excuse. It hurts a little to see Seresin again. To think about the potential they had. He looks good though. Happy and confident, the little smirk always there just on the corner of his lips. He always wants to kiss it off, but it's not his place. Has never been his place. He plays it off, tries to anyway, and his mouth still takes off without him, brain distracted by looking and he really has to practice better self-control.

                “Hangman. You look… good.”

                There’s a flash of annoyance and Bradley winces. He’s glad he went with something as mundane as good, except him saying that has always been a lead into hooking up. He’d told himself he wasn’t going to do this. Not with anyone, but especially not with Seresin. They aren’t anything to each other, never were, never will be. He’ll apologize as soon as he can for the slip up.

                “I am good Rooster. I’m very good. In fact, I am too good to be true.”

                He rolls his eyes, but he deserves the sharp look, the slight meaness, although he also can’t ignore it, because Seresin is still an arrogant shit, for all his beautiful flying. Natasha is muttering under her breath, talking about not caring about dick sizes, and he has to stop himself from laughing as she blatantly and obviously changes the subject, the others grabbing the lifeline like drowning men. He focuses back in on the conversation just in time to hear Seresin again.

                “And which one of y’all has what it takes to follow me?”

                He snorts.

                “Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.”

                Fuck. He hadn’t meant that. Not like that. God. Another thing to apologize for. He’s opening a fucking tab.

                “Well, anyone who follows you is just gonna run out of fuel. But that’s just you, ain’t it, Rooster? You’re snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment… That never comes.”

                He knows it’s a jibe about his fucking inability to commit to his relationship, and he’d like to prove him wrong by telling him that he’s very firmly back with his guy, but it feels empty when he flirted with him not even five minutes ago. What the hell is it with Seresin that always brings out the worst in him. He’s going to have to apologize but he’s going to hate every fucking second of it.

                “I love this song!”

                Right.

                He’ll apologize as soon as he no longer wants to punch him.

…            …            …

                Fortunately Natasha’s presence, the piano playing and singing force him to unwind and it shifts his mood considerably, exactly what his therapist has told him to do. Not that a piano is frequently available, but he’s working on it. He sees Seresin head out and he follows him quickly, ignores Natasha’s hissed warning to not get into a fight.

                “Hey! Seresin! Wait up!”

                “What do you want Rooster?”

                He sucks in a big breath. He can do this.

                “I just wanted to apologize. For flirting. I shouldn’t have done that. For several reasons, but it was shitty of me and I’ll work on it not happening again.”

                Seresin looks at him, expression tense and he’s worrying a toothpick which Bradley does his best to ignore.

                “Anything else you want to apologize for Bradshaw?”

                Bradley pauses, thinks back to what he said and pulls a face.

                “Fuck. Yeah. You won’t lead anyone into an early grave either. I didn’t mean that. It was a shitty thing to say. I’m sorry.”

                “Anything else?”

                Bradley blinks.

                “Uh. No… not that I can think of? Why?”

                The look Seresin is giving him is calculating, like he’s trying to figure something out; then Seresin is reaching out and tugging on his shirt.

                “Thought you might like to apologize for crimes against fashion. This is one godawful shirt you’re wearing…”

                “I like this shirt.”

                “Of course you do. Hmm.”

                “Are you going to apologize to me?”

                “For what?”

                “For calling me slow?”

                “Nothing wrong with slow Rooster…”

                The look on his face, the way he juts out his hip and licks his lips around the fucking toothpick… Bradley feels the flush hit his cheeks, can tell his neck and chest are also going warm and he steps back. He can’t and won’t engage with this. With him.

                “Was good seeing you Seresin. Have a good night.”

…            …            …

                He gets back inside the Hard Deck and he spies Natasha talking with Bob, knows she’s starting the process of getting to know her new back seater, which is usually to beat them soundly in whatever macho game they think they’re better at, and then to show them that she can and will fly, and fly well. Then she usually forces them into a self-care night of face masks and nails, for which Bradley is usually invited along to if he’s around, although he knows Coyote has been seconded into the roll a couple of times.

                “You look… whole,” Natasha says, and she reaches for his hand, inspects his knuckles and Bradley huffs in annoyance, pulling his hand back when he realizes what she’s doing.

                “I didn’t punch him.”

                “No. You just stalked out of here looking like you wanted to.”

                “I actually went and apologized to him.”

                Both her and Bob blink.

                “Seriously?”

                “What can I say, I’m the bigger man, admitting when I’m wrong and apologizing.”

                “I still feel like I should go outside and check for a body…”

                “It’s fine. I’m going to try and be nice.”

                “Yeah. Okay. Good luck with that.”

                “What she said,” Bob says.

…            …            …

                The thing is he does try, but he’s also completely thrown by the fact that Maverick is there and is apparently the one teaching them. His anger is bubbling fresh, like he never took it off the boil and he’s angry again with Ice for not fucking warning him. Maverick doesn’t look at all surprised to see him and that makes him feel even angrier. He desperately needs to either run, punch some pillows or angrily play out his feelings on a piano until he calms down. None of which he can do while he watches his godfather stand at the front of a makeshift classroom and tell them all that the mission success will come down to the pilot in the box.

…            …            …

                “So, Rooster, mind if I ask you a personal question?”

                Jesus Christ, one apology and the man is going to ask about his whole life history. Now is not the fucking time, not to mention the line is open and everyone can hear them. He scans the skies and screens for any sign of Maverick.

                “Would it matter if I did?”

                “What’s the story with you and Maverick?” Speak of the fucking devil… “It seems like he’s got you rattled.”

                “That’s none of your business. Now where the hell is he?”

                “Been here the whole time.”

                “Holy shit,” Seresin breathes and Bradley pulls a face, because that tone is also far too similar to what he sounds like in bed and he can not be thinking about that right now.

                He get’s shot down for a second time, knows he’s toeing the line of being an idiot, doesn’t need Natasha railing at him, or the four-hundred push-ups he insists on doing which leave his arms feeling like jelly and Hondo looking at him like he pities him. He goes back to his accommodation on base and stares at the key to his family home, wonders if he should do anything about it, ignores Natasha’s messages and falls into a fitful sleep without even changing out of his clothes.

…            …            …

                He wakes later, and his first instinct is to make coffee, except it’s late and he needs to get used to the time difference. So he makes himself a hot cocoa from the supplies, although the fat he has to chip away at the solid mass tells him it likely won’t be worth the effort. Still, it gives him something to do. He snaps a picture and sends it, just adds a jet lag is real over it and sends it. Jas has been unnaturally quiet the last couple of days and Bradley desperately wants to just pick up his phone and call him. Except he doesn’t have his number and he won’t ask for it.

                Calling was never an option in the beginning, not with the lack of service out on carriers, and the fact that exchanging numbers also meant exchanging names. Bradley has never not answered the phone with his whole name, so he’d never offered. He’s got so many regrets on so many fronts he feels like a twenty-sided dice.

>>Everything okay?

>>You’ve been kind of quiet these last couple of days.

>>You ever bump into someone and think that it was maybe me you were talking to?

>>Um. Actually yeah.

>>Once. Years ago.

>>But there just ended up being all these little facts that didn’t line up so I figured it wasn’t you.

>>Was he hot?

>>He was alright. Easy enough on the eyes.

>>Nothing happened. I was his instructor at the time.

>>You and your moral compass.

>>I’m rolling my eyes at you.

>>I’m not a saint.

>>Never accused you of that. Not sleeping with someone because you’re in a position of power. That’s pretty decent of you.

>>Got to try being a decent human right?

>>I guess.

>>Sometimes I fuck up but got to keep on trying.

>>Yeah. I guess you do.

…            …            …

                Internally he’s a mess. The fact that the mission seems impossible, has been called a suicide mission, he’s having to see Maverick everyday, and Seresin keeps looking at him like he’s trying to puzzle something out. Like how big the body bag needs to be maybe. Now he’s being told he isn’t flying fast enough, he’s going to get shot down and he’s going to be responsible for the death of his friends. Like any of them won’t suffer the exact same fate.

                “It’s not the plane, sir, it’s the pilot.”

                “Exactly!”

                “There’s more than one way to fly this mission.”

                “You really don’t get it. On this mission, a man flies like Maverick here, or a man does not come back. No offense intended.”

                “Yet somehow you always manage,” Bob murmurs and normally Bradley would smile at the comeback, but he can’t right now. His frustration and anger are carefully balanced and he doesn’t want either of them to tip over.

                “Look, I don’t mean to criticize. You’re conservative, that’s all.”

                “Lieutenant.”

                “We’re going into combat, son, on a level no living pilot’s ever seen. Not even him. That’s no time to be thinking about the past.”

                “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                “Rooster.”

                “I can’t be the only one that knows that Maverick flew with his old man.”

                “That’s enough.”

                “Or that Maverick was flying when his old man…”

                “Lieutenant, that’s enough!”

                “That’s enough.“

                “You son of a bitch!”

                “Hey, come on!”

                “I’m cool, I’m cool. Hey, hey.”

                “That’s enough.”

…            …            …

>>I have had an awful fucking day.

>>Tell me something to cheer me up?

                He doesn’t get an answer.

…            …            …

                He still doesn’t have an answer the next morning and he sends off his usual morning picture of his coffee, feels his entre body unclench when he gets a picture in response. There still isn’t any messages but it’s not complete radio silence. There is a message from his Captain, telling him to report to the Hard Deck in civvies appropriate for the beach and he lets out a long sigh. Sends a screen shot to Ice with a what the fuck is he thinking now? To which he gets back a line of laughing-crying emojis and your guess is as good as mine.

                Well. He has no idea where the hell Maverick dreamed up dog-fight football, but at least they’re not all getting drunk together. That would have been a recipe for several disasters. It’s not that warm, but once they’re all running around it heats them up enough and it feels good to simply run around and play, forget, even for a little while, that one or more of them might be dead in a couple of weeks.

…            …            …

                As if they needed reminders about just how dangerous their jobs are without the added aspects of the mission in front of them they have the day from hell and Bradley feels responsible. Thinking his verbal sparring with Hangman somehow made it a bad day he somehow jinxed them all. Having Coyote come so close to burning in because of g-Loc, and then Natasha… his best friend. Listening to Maverick yell eject at them over and over is going to be added nightmare fodder he’s sure will enter rotation, something he can look forward to. He sits in the quiet of the room, turning when he hears footsteps.

                Maverick.

                And no-one else around to act as a buffer.

                Well shit.

                He’s tired and already emotionally raw, doesn’t want to talk to him right now.

                “They’ll keep Phoenix and Bob in the hospital overnight for observation. They’re gonna be okay.”

                “That’s good. I’ve never lost a wing man.”

                “You’re lucky. Fly long enough, it’ll happen. There will be others.”

                “Easy for you to say,” Bradley bites out. “No wife. No kids. Nobody to mourn you when you burn in.”

                He feels detached from what he’s saying, but the anger is all still there, and he feels justified in that at least, although he’s also lying. As much as he might be angry, he’d still grieve Maverick if he died. Of course Maverick tries to be calm and rational and instead of calming him down it has the opposite effect, and he’s snapping out words again, and Maverick is snapping back and god, it’s a wonder Ice didn’t bang their heads together earlier.

                “Maverick,” Warlock says, stopping them from screaming more hurtful things in each other’s faces.

                Then he learns that Ice has died and of course bad things come in threes.

                He leaves Maverick with Warlock and heads off into the dark for his base housing.

…            …            …

>>You know how I told you about my uncle?

>>The one with cancer?

>>Yeah?

>>He died. His funeral will be in a couple of days and I’m going to have to somehow not cry in front of everyone.

>>Would you give me your mobile number?

>>Why?

>>Because I’d really like to hear your voice. Talk to you properly.

>>I wouldn’t call until you gave me the go ahead.

>>I just… I don’t want to be alone right now.

>>I feel very alone.

>>I thought the other day was bad, but today has been so much worse.

                He wanders around aimlessly, wonders if maybe he should bite the bullet and either go to the rec room and play the piano there, or see if the piano at his closed-up parent’s house is even playable. He’s half-dressed for bed, mind so far away he doesn’t register the knocking until it’s louder and more insistent and he heads to the door, opening it and half-expecting to find Maverick there.

                “Hangman?”

                “Rooster.”

                “Uh. What are doing here?”

                The look on Seresin’s face tells him he’s not exactly sure either, and the fact that he’s not certain is something he’s even more annoyed about.

                “I just… I know your dad flew with Admiral Kazansky. I... I thought that maybe you might know him more than just as the COMPACFLT and be... I thought you might want company.”

                “I...” Bradley starts, because he really does want the company right now, Natasha is in hospital, Coyote is with her because sometimes things like near-misses force you to reevaluate. Not that she can come, but he wouldn’t call her anyway, doesn’t want to rain on her happiness. Not when there is no guarantee of any future right now, the bird strike and g-Loc incidents both really driving home how dangerous their jobs are.

                “Not anything else, by the way… just company.”

                “No. I... Yeah. Company would be good. Thanks.”

                “Also I figured I should take a leaf out of your book and apologize. I’m sorry. About bringing up your dad. That was a dick move.”

                Bradley blinks.

                “Um. Okay.”

                “Right. Sleeping right? You want me to cuddle you?”

                “Actually yeah, since you offered,” Bradley replies, giving Seresin a disparaging look but then takes in the fact that he’s dressed in sweats and a worn t-shirt, like he maybe come over after he’d already gotten ready for bed.

                “Come on then, finish getting ready. Always waiting for you to catch up Bradshaw…”

                “Yeah yeah, give me a minute.”

                He shuffles around, puts on a t-shirt in deference to the fact that Seresin seems seriously intent on hopping into bed with him, and not for sex. He brushes his teeth and washes his face, unable to bring himself to do any more. His mind is thinking about Sarah and the kids and grandkids. Funerals, oh which he feels like he’s been to too many. He folds himself into the bed, his head and body already feel heavy and weighed down and he cannot believe he’s watching Seresin of all people turn off the lights and then slide into bed beside him, his arm settling over his waist like a drag sail.

                “Go to sleep Bradshaw, I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

…            …            …

                Despite everything he has one of the best nights’ sleep he’s had in a long time, and he can’t put it down to the sheer emotional exhaustion of the last couple of days. He woke up several times during the night, not used to having someone else in the bed, but each time Seresin had been there, arm settled around Bradley like he was holding him together. He’s not there now though, but Bradley can hear someone in the kitchen and it can’t be anyone else but Seresin. He stands and stretches, feels his back and neck click and reaches for his phone, feels a little swoop of happiness when he sees he has a message.

>>I don’t want you to be alone right now either.

                He grins and quickly types out a response as he heads to the kitchen.

                “Hey, morning.”

                “Morning. How are you feeling?”

                “Uh. Better. Thanks,” Bradley offers, because he’s a little unsettled by this softer and more accommodating version of Seresin.

                “Here,” Seresin says, and he slides a mug of coffee across to him. It’s not his usual mug, but that’s okay. The mug isn’t the important part, and he snaps a quick picture.

                “What are you doing?”

                “Um. Just taking a photo of my coffee,” Bradley states, looking up as Seresin makes a slight choking sound. “Thanks by the way, for the coffee and for staying last night. I really needed the company.”

                “Yeah. Uh. Anytime. I’ve got to go. Glad you’re feeling better Bradshaw.”

                “Uh, yeah. Thanks… see you later…” Bradley says, voice trailing off as Hangman flees like he’s on fire.

                Weird.

                He takes a sip of his coffee and blinks in surprise.

                It’s perfect.

…            …            …

                He drags himself through his morning routine and heads to Ice’s house, needs to see Sarah and the others, the only family he has. Or at least that he’s currently talking to in civil tones. He lets himself get hugged as he hugs them all in return, they’re all talking in soft mumbles with empty platitudes he knows don’t ease the grief. But being with others who are also grieving helps. He’s allowed to feel sad and miss him when he’s surrounded by people who feel exactly the same way.

                Sarah is poised and calm, her red eyes the only thing belying the fact that she’s been crying plenty. He’s sitting down talking to Samantha, Ice’s eldest daughter, when Sarah finds him and presses an envelope into his hands.

                “He wanted me to give this to you as quickly as possible after his passing. I think he was adding it to it just yesterday…”

                His throat goes tight and he runs his fingers along the crisp edge of the envelope, swallows and then gives up, lets the tears fall and hugs her back tightly as she presses a kiss to the top of his head, feels Samantha hug him from the side. He guesses he has some reading to do.

…            …            …

Dear Bradley,

If you are reading this it’s because I’m dead. Now, as outcomes go, this isn’t what either of us wanted, I’m sure. I’m glad I only had one rule with you as a teenager, and that you listened to me. This is the natural progression of things, children having to bury their parents. I am sorry that you have had to do this so often though, your life has not often been fair to you. There is one silver lining of being a dead man, and that’s getting a dying wish. Your mother had a dying wish you see, and I didn’t agree with what she wanted, but I had to respect it. It was her dying wish after all. And now this is mine, so if I meet her in the afterlife, then I know she’s not going to be able to hold it over me.

I want you to know that she never wanted you to fly.

She asked Maverick to pull your papers.

I tried to convince both of them that it was a terrible idea. But your mother became very difficult to argue with, being dead and all, and well, Maverick is one of the most stubborn and pig-headed men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’m glad I’ve been able to count him as being a friend, because having him as an enemy would be ten times worse (and it was already pretty trying some days, as you can imagine). Anyway, I could already envision what would happen, you get your own stubborn and pig-headedness honestly at least, and it was then polished by being raised by Maverick after your mom passed.

Now, I am not asking you to forgive Maverick. However I am asking you to try. He loves you and cares for you, but what he is most terrified about is failing both of your parents. He thinks they’d be perfect parents, so holds himself up to that ideal. He thinks he needs to be perfect. Being a parent myself I know that’s impossible, I’ve just tried my best to make decisions based from a place of love and support. Maverick has always tried to make his decisions based on what he thinks your parents would want for you. Your mom didn’t want you to fly and yet here you are. And Maverick has to see that and know he failed her. And he failed you. And he will always believe he failed your father.

I never had to second guess my parenting decisions, even if I would later make a different decision with hindsight. I knew I made the best decision I could at the time with the information I had, making it from a place of love, then I couldn’t really regret it. Maverick second guesses everything when it comes to you. For all his don’t think, just do bullshit, he overthinks everything when it comes to you.

One of your parents gave you anything and everything you wanted, because he only saw you for a few months of your entire life. In between all the training and deployments, it just wasn’t enough. He loved you, do not ever doubt that, and he’d be so proud of the man you are today. I believe he would have supported you going to USNA with his whole heart. He’d be proud of you being a naval aviator. He would love that you were a pilot.

Your mother had to become both parents and then manage your early teen years and at the same time she wanted to protect you from everything bad in the world. She couldn’t protect you from losing your father, or then losing her, and I am sure she thought she was protecting you by asking Maverick to pull your USNA papers. However neither of your parents knew you as well as Maverick knew you, and yet he tasked himself with an impossible task.

So you have had a parent who only knew you really as a baby, another as a child, then another as a young man and now you’re an adult with a life and career of his own. You might have a better chance of getting Maverick into therapy than I ever did, simply by asking him. I am proud that you go. That you listened and took my advice. It’s always nice to be right. It’s been a pleasure watching you grow into the man you are today, and I know you will continue to grow.

Having you back in my life has been one of my joys. Getting to know you again, share stories with you. I’ve written a lot more down for you, and there’s a box with your name on it. Lots of photos because I’m old and we had film cameras. Make all the old jokes you want, I’m dead and I don’t care. Growing old is a luxury for some, and I am glad I got as far as I did. Anyway, I think Samantha might be digitizing the photos. Ask her. Please stay in touch with them all. You are a part of our family, even if it didn’t feel that way for you for some years. You are always welcome, never forget that. I want you to be in each other’s lives again. Maverick’s as well. You need him even if you think you don’t. And he needs you too. You’re both going to get invitations to Kazansky family gatherings, and it’s going to be awkward if you’re not talking to each other. At least give it a try. That’s all I’m asking.

Never forget how loved you are Bradley.

By all of your parents.

Ice

Saw you flying today. Made me so proud. Also made me wish I could have flown with you. Watching you fly is like watching the best of myself and Maverick. He is very unhappy with me about the mission. Doesn’t want to have to make the choice. He views it as lose-lose all round, which might be true. I hope it isn’t, for both your sakes. If I have any say in it you’ll all return safely home. I’m tired, so I’m going to go to bed now. Love you kid.

…            …            …

                They’ve been given the day off, which seems a little ridiculous considering how close the mission is. He’s immeasurably glad though, he feels shaky and emotionally raw, and he still has to get through the funeral and somehow process the whole shifting worldview that his mom made Maverick promise. That Maverick wouldn’t just tell him that confuses him, what would he do? Hate his mom for wanting to keep him safe? He just doesn’t get it. He opens his phone, not really having had a chance to look at it since the morning after he’d sent his coffee picture. Jas hadn’t replied by the time he left to go to Ice’s house, but when he opens his phone now he can see he has a couple of new notifications. The coffee cup in reply looks familiar and he realizes it’s his coffee cup. The one he usually uses except this morning… What the hell?

                He opens up Grindr and clicks on the new message, is pretty sure he knows what to expect when it displays and there it is.

>>I’m in the Dagger Squad.

                Just like that his world tilts on its axis again and he stares at the five words. Closes it and then reopens the app. Reads the words again. Actually turns off his phone and forces it to re-start. The words stay the same.

                JAS.

                Born in 1986.

                Texan.

                God he’s an idiot.

                Not just in the navy, he’s a Naval aviator.

                A photo of his own coffee cup sent back to him from this morning.

                He’s laughing at his own stupidity and he’s already cried so much today but he feels like he might just burst into tears again, his emotions all too exposed and he needs to find out where Jas-Jake-Seresin, (what the hell does he call him now?), lives. He rings Natasha, knows she’s still with Coyote. Coyote will know where Jake, (Jake feels right? Maybe?), lives. Because it’s not on base. Of course Coyote won’t give him the address and Bradley feels like screaming. Tells him to ask Jake, then to text it through to him when he gives it to him. He’s that certain Jake will give it to him. He could just ask himself, but he also doesn’t want to give Jake an opportunity to ignore him. Not that he thinks he will.

                Last night suddenly makes a lot more sense, now that he thinks about it. No one else would have known about Ice passing, and yet Jake turned up, because he’d figured it out. God. When did he figure it out? He’s trying to reconcile Jas and Jake Seresin in his head. The brash confident and arrogant naval aviator he knows and has had plenty of sex with, and Jas, the open, vulnerable and sweetly-sassy man that he’s… also had plenty of sex with. Well. At least he knows they can handle the long-distance aspect of any relationship. God he really wants to see him now.

                The address comes through and he taps it into his phone, following the directions as he drives, wishes it was closer. He doesn’t bother telling Jake he’s on his way, he already knows because Coyote has given Bradley his address. With permission. He pulls up and it’s a newly built block of condos, and he has to look for a carpark for too long before he finds one. He lets himself feel annoyed at the poor planning, grateful that it pushes the grief and shocked-joy just to the side for a moment, no matter how brief. It allows him to gather his bearings as he walks up the pavement and knocks on the door. While he waits for an answer, he wonders if he should send a message. Why the hell not.

>>Answer the door Jas.

>>Give me one good reason.

>>I love you.

>>Now please answer the door.

                “Hi.”

                “Hi.”

                He stands there and just… looks. Jake’s wearing exactly the same clothes as when he left Bradley’s place earlier today, and he looks soft. A little scared and Bradley realizes that he’s maybe worried that Bradley might be disappointed somehow. He reaches out, slow enough that Jake can stop him, or step away; cups his cheek in his hand, runs a thumb over the apple of his cheek. Wants to enfold him in a hug and be hugged in return.

                “Thank you.”

                “Uh. You’re welcome?”

                “You want to know what I’m thanking you for?”

                “Sure.”

                “My second chance. Always planned on thanking you in person.”

                “Um. Yeah.”

                Bradley bites his lip, won’t mention aloud the groveling and body worship that Jas had mentioned, is sure that Jake might not yet be in a place to hear him say words out loud. Written word is something completely different. He wants to kiss him, definitely wants to carry out the body worship, but he feels like they’re all the way at the beginning, needing to feel each other out a little bit, emotionally that is.

                “Can I hug you?”

                “Yeah, of course. Come in and close the door.”

                Of all the hugs he’s had today this one feels the best, firm, grounding and warm. Both of Jake’s arms around him, head resting against Bradley’s shoulder while his nose and mouth press against the side of his head. He presses a kiss to the top of his head.

                “When did you figure it out?” Bradley asks.

                “When did I suspect, or when did I know? Because there’s kind of different stages I went through…”

                “Yeah? Want to share? Because I… needed you to point it out apparently.”

                “Always a little slow Bradshaw…”

                “Oh my god I’m never going to live this down am I?”

                “Nope. Probably not.”

                “Okay. I’m okay with that. Come on. Blow me away with your superior intellect…”

                “You want to have this conversation while we hug in my entryway?”

                “I don’t want to let you go.”

                “Oh. I have a sofa? Or a, uh, bed?”

                “How about we start on the sofa. Can we both fit?”

                “Worth a try…”

                He makes himself comfortable in the corner and then holds out his arms, silently inviting Jake to curl up in them, to settle himself in the v of his legs. He desperately wants to be holding him again and hopes he equally wants to be held. Fortunately Jake seems to, relaxes against him and Bradley feels a sense of contentedness well up inside him. They’re both facing the same direction and part of him is glad; feels like it might be a little too overwhelming to have this coming conversation face-to-face. It’s like a compromise between being online versus facing each other.

                “So… what was your first clue?”

                “Uh, your shirt at the Hard Deck. Payback made a comment about how it wouldn’t be possible to miss seeing you arrive and it pinged something in my mind, about when we were meant to met up. You said I wouldn’t miss you…”

                “Ugh. You mean the time I stood you up to sleep with… you. I’m still very sorry about that by the way.”

                “Well, I’ve sort of made my peace with it. I mean, I can stop being jealous about the other guy at least…”

                Bradley huffs in amusement, tightens his arms around him a little.

                “Oh… When you asked whether I was going to apologize about fashion crimes. That was you sounding me out.”

                “Trying at least. You blanked me so I figured it was just a coincidence.”

                “Okay… then what?”

                “Um. I saw a photo of your dad. Nicholas Bradshaw.”

                “Nick.”

                “And Bradley Bradshaw. NickNick. Stupid double-barreled names. Then I remembered your first username, and you hating the name Pete… And how you really don’t like Maverick. Lots of coincidences that just suddenly were too many to just ignore and they made sense.”

                “Yeah…” Bradley breathes, smiling against Jake’s hair. He likes that Jake has been paying such close attention, would never have thought it of Seresin or Hangman, but it’s definitely Jake through and through.

                “So… Uh. I suspected and then seeing that photo kind of confirmed it. Your moustache and how you said you look like him. Your dad I mean. You do look a lot like him. Anyway, I thought you knew who I was, and you were making fun of me.”

                “What? Never...”

                Jake twists to give him a look, eyebrow raised in disbelief and Bradley shakes his head.

                “Not about this,” Bradley stresses.

                “So, I suspected, and then I thought you knew and hadn't told me and I got so angry...”

                “You picked a fight,” Bradley says with dawning realization, because he’s fucking been there and done the same thing, like picking at a wound.

                “I wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry.”

                “I swear I had no idea.”

                “Oh yeah, I know that now. Last night when I turned up... I almost asked you. Last night was when I started to realize that you really had no idea.”

                “Gorgeous and smart…” Bradley says, and he’s never seen Jake blush before, but he’s doing it now, his face going pink from the corner of Bradley’s eye. “And then my coffee cup picture from this morning... Shit. That’s when you really realized I was truly fucking clueless.”

                “Yeah. And I needed to figure out a way of telling you but I had no idea how…”

                “Well, you did a good job telling me. You made my coffee perfectly and I still didn’t put it all together.”

                “Still took you long enough to get here though.”

                “Oh, I didn’t check the messages until about an hour ago. I messaged Coyote pretty much immediately. Did you think it took me that long to figure it out after you told me you were in the Dagger Squad?”

                “Well, it has been about four hours.”

                “No! I’ve been at Ice’s all morning. Spending time with the family.”

                Jake makes a choking sound.

                “You’re actually… family?”

                “Yeah,” Bradley says with a quiet sigh. “After my mom died and when Mav was deployed I lived with Ice and his family. When I left Mav I pretty much left Ice too. I made up with him a few years ago. Here. Read this…”

                He shifts awkwardly and pulls the letter out of his pocket, pulling Jake back into his arms and handing it to him.

                “Are you sure?”

                “Yeah. I have literally no secrets from you.”

                He reads it again over Jake’s shoulder, let’s himself cry again and tries to not feel self-conscious about the fact that he’s holding Jake and crying. He’s allowed to feel emotions. He’s not an automaton.

                “Jesus Bradley…”

                It’s the first time Jake has said his name and he lets out another little hiccupping cry, but it has happiness behind it this time, not that Jake can tell and he lets out a little laugh of just how ridiculous the whole situation is.

                “Yeah. Ever had emotional whiplash? I think that’s what I’m experiencing today. It’s pretty fucking rough.”

                “Stay here tonight. Hell. Did you sleep okay last night? You said you didn’t want to be alone…”

                “Last night was great. Exactly what I needed thank you. And yeah, I’ll stay here. Might need to borrow some clothes.”

                “Or we can just… go to bed.”

                “Are you sure?”

                “Ni-, Ro, Bradley… I do not want to waste any more time, especially considering how much time we might not have.”

                Fuck. Now there’s a depressing thought. Although it also seems like Jake is having the same internal battle about what to call him as he’s been having.

                “What’s your middle name?”

                “What?”

                “I’ve been calling you Jas in my head for so long, when I get angry with you I’m going to need to full name you…”

                “Jacob Andrew Seresin.”

                “Bradley Peter Bradshaw. Nice to meet you.”

                “You’re an idiot,” Jake says, but he’s turning, shifting to face him and Bradley smiles, knows he probably looks messy with fresh tear tracks, but he’s smiling at him and Jake is smiling back.

                “We were so close so many times weren’t we…”

                “Yep. Think it had some silver linings though.”

                “Yeah? Like what?” Bradley asks, because he’s curious.

                “Don’t want to think about some of them right now. Want to take you to bed.”

                “Yeah. Lead the way…”

…            …            …                 Every touch is reverent, and he hasn’t slept with anyone in a long while, not since he last slept with Jake in fact, which has him realizing that he hasn’t done anything sexual with anyone but Jake for… nearly three years. Huh. He’ll share that little tidbit of information later, when he’s not sliding his hands under Jake’s t-shirt and working it up off his body. Jake’s working Bradley’s clothes off, and he doesn’t usually feel the need to check in, not when it’s the middle of the day, both completely sober, but he still needs to, the emotions of everything making it a necessity.

                “Okay?”

                “Yeah, yeah. It's okay. This isn’t our first fucking time…”

                Bradley grins, lets himself press his body against Jake’s, letting them both lower their bodies into Jake’s bed. He’ll pay more attention to Jake’s room and bed when he no longer wants to give absolutely every bit of his attention to the man under his hands and mouth.

                “Sorry if I want to cater to my body worshipping kink…”

                “Selfish,” Jake says, his voice breathy and Bradley bites at his collarbone lightly.

                “Yeah. Very selfish. You should totally kick me to the curb.”

                “Mmm. See if you can convince me otherwise…”

                He feels a happy and excited swoop of pleasure that Jake seems playful, happy in himself to have Bradley in his bed, to stay in his bed for more than just sex.

                “I love you,” Bradley murmurs, and he kisses a trail down Jake's neck, then back up. Lets his fingers touch everywhere he can reach, captures Jake’s mouth in a kiss as he grinds his hips down, feels Jake’s mouth gasp open and he licks into it. They’ve had sex with each other a lot, but it’s never quite felt this heavy. Like every touch, every shift of their bodies against each other, carries with it a little bit extra weight, extra meaning.

                “I love you.”

                There are definite benefits to already being familiar with Jake’s body, knowing how he responds, what he likes. It’s been long enough since they last slept together than it’s all novel and new, while also having the deep-rooted feeling of familiarity and sense of homecoming. He wants to worship every inch of him, Jake seems more than willing to let him. The fact he can pepper his actions with I love you is exhilarating, being able to both show Jake and tell him in equal measure.

                He knows he can make Jake come twice, wants to take him apart and hold him together, give him absolutely everything. God, all the things he’s fantasized about are now potential things they can explore together and he grins into the jut of Jake’s hips, sucks little kisses as he teases along the band of his underwear.

                “Off off, get them off…”

                “It’s been months, or years, depending on how you count. What’s a few more minutes? You know I like the anticipation and building up.”

                “Fuck off, you can edge me another time. I know you want to. Right now I want you to make me come.”

                “Demanding.”

                “Damn right.”

                He pulls Jake’s underwear down and sucks the head of his cock into his mouth as he continues to work the underwear down his thighs. It’s a little uncoordinated, Jake trying to help by thrusting his hips up, his cock hitting the back of Bradley’s throat so suddenly he gags, unprepared, digs his fingers into his hip to stop him from doing it again as he pulls the underwear off and throws it elsewhere. He feels Jake’s fingers running through his hair, deliberately ignores the subtle direction to go faster, slows down and grins when he hears Jake groan and mumble asshole under his breath. Jake groans again, his whole body tensing then relaxing under him and Bradley lets himself finally speed up.

                He shifts, kneels between Jake’s spread legs so he can get an unobstructed view up his torso, can watch his face as Bradley gets his hands and mouth all over him. His fingers encircle Jake’s cock and he works fast, mouth and tongue licking over his balls before sucking the head back into his mouth. Jake is watching him, mouth open, chest shuddering with broken breaths and Bradley feels a swell of sudden and immense gratitude that he gets to have this. That Jake is allowing him to have it.

                “I love you,” he says, his eyes not leaving Jake’s as he opens his mouth and sucks Jake down again, lets Jake’s hips thrust up, ready for it this time and shivers at how gorgeous Jake sounds saying his name. He works his hand faster, presses a knuckle against his perinium, licks and sucks his balls and it’s a tight fit but Jake just stretches his legs wider to give him more space to work. He sees the muscles in Jake’s stomach clench, loves that he knows that that’s one of Jake’s tells, that he’s close to coming. Then he is, shooting up over Bradley’s fist, hitting his chest and stomach.

                “I love you,” Bradley says again, it becomes like a prayer as he runs his hands over his calves and thighs, presses kisses up his inner thigh and his balls again. His eyes haven’t left Jake’s. He licks up Jake’s stomach, cleaning up Jake’s come as he goes, smirks at the little broken sound Jake makes. Wonders if he should have said something about the lack of condom this time, but hopes that Jake simply trusts him. Three fucking years.

                “God I love you…” Bradley whisper, wants, needs, Jake to know the truth of him. Jake kisses him, tongue seeking out every groove between his teeth, moaning against him and he realizes he’s maybe getting off on the taste of himself in Bradley’s mouth. God they’re going to be able to explore and try so much more now that they have the trust that exists between them. Something he knew he wanted, and to have it, he feels so damn lucky.

                Both of Jake’s hands are in his hair, he’s being kissed so thoroughly, Jake’s grinding his hips up against him where he’s partially holding himself above him. Then one of Jake’s hands is on his ass, gripping and pulling and oh. He grinds down, presses his erection against Jake and grins into his mouth.

                “Why are you still wearing underwear?” Jake complains.

                “Mmm… was too busy getting reacquainted with your body.”

                He loves the torn expression on Jake’s face, clearly wants to argue some point, but also can’t think of anything that he can argue about. Instead he digs his fingers into Bradley’s ass cheek and rolls his hips and Bradley moans, much closer than he thought he was. He wants to drag this out, continue re-learning every inch of Jake’s body with all his years of knowledge he’s acquired.

                “Come on, want to get my mouth on you… take you fucking underwear off.”

                Oh. This isn’t quite going the way he had planned in his head, but he stands and quickly strips off the garment which Jake has been scowling at. He’s more than okay doing what Jake wants as well. He follows Jake’s annoyed muttering directions until he’s straddling his chest, head of his cock a mere inch above Jake’s mouth. It’s a fucking gorgeous sight and his mouth is dry as he watches Jake, eyes dark, and then the tight warm heat of Jake’s mouth takes him in and he groans, his hips twitching reflexively. Then Jake’s hands are on his hips, encouraging him and his eyes fall shut as he lets himself start rolling his hips, the suction around his cock tight and warm. He opens his eyes to look at Jake, to give himself a visual to what he’s feeling and experiencing and –

                “Oh god… Jake. Fuck.”

                He pulls out sharply, not able to give any warning before he’s coming. Not that coming all over Jake’s face and neck is any better than coming in his mouth, but he’s not going to assume. His breath is coming in panting gasps, his body shaking and he puts a hand down to hold himself up, stares and Jake’s eyes carefully open and Bradley shifts down, needs to be kissing him again. He cleans up his own come this time, peppers his licks with kisses and murmured I love yous against the shell of Jake’s ear. It’s not what he had planned maybe, but it’s no less perfect. They’re going to need a shower, and he can’t wait to introduce that new level of intimacy into their relationship. He settles beside him, pulls up the sheet and reaches out to place a hand on his waist, fingers brushing softly.

                “So… It’s nice to finally meet you. Properly I mean…” Bradley says, eyes searching Jake’s face and he’s smiling and feeling fond and content. Soft, he realizes, thinking about Natasha’s word she uses to describe him sometimes, especially the last couple of years when he’s been working at getting better at being more in touch with his emotions.

                “I love you,” Jake says, and like hearing his name for the first time Bradley feels like he’s going to burst. At the same time it’s like Jake Hangman Seresin melts away and Jas is there, eyes wet with unshed tears and he kisses him again, feels the wetness slide over the pad of his thumb.

                “I love you so much.”

                “Can’t believe it took us this long.”

                “You know we could have avoided all this if we'd just told each other our names...” Bradley says, because he’s definitely going to dig a little. He’s still him.

                “Names? We could have sent each other photos of our faces…”

                “Neither of which you wanted by the way. So I’m making you take the blame for just how long it took. But you also get the credit for figuring it out…”

                “Damn right I do.”

                “Love you Jake…”

                “God you’re a sap…”

                “Only with you.”

                Jake blushes and Bradley smirks, because genuine sincerity is apparently the way to make him a complete mess.

…            …            …

                Their day back at training after Ice’s funeral he feels more settled and is immediately thrown off balance again by the fact that Maverick isn’t there. He sits there in disbelief as he hears Admiral Simpson outline new parameters and agrees with every muttered and under-the-breath comment. A little distracted by the noise coming in over the radio.

                “Uh, Maverick, range control, uh, green range is confirmed. I don’t see an event scheduled for you, sir.”

                “Well, I’m going anyway.”

                “Nice,” Natasha murmurs and Bradley rolls his eyes. Of fucking course everyone is already impressed with him. He hasn’t even fucking done anything yet.

                “Setting time to target: Two minutes fifteen seconds.”

                “Two-fifteen? That’s impossible.”

                Bradley agrees in principle, however he also knows that Maverick knows himself. He wouldn’t set a time like that if he didn’t truly believe he could fly it. Jake turns around and smirks at him, as if to say this is your fucked up family and Bradley subtly gives him the finger, although inwardly he feels thrilled that he has someone with him, that knows him so well and his whole bullshit relationship with Mav. It’s such a relief, especially now that Ice is gone.

                “Final attack point. Maverick’s inbound.”

                He looks around the room, and he understands why everyone is so invested. If Maverick can do this then it proves it’s actually possible. He already knows it is, Maverick wouldn’t be trying to teach them if he didn’t think it wasn’t possible. But the others need to know it. Know it like he does.

                “Popping in three, two, one.”

                He leans forward, can feel the tension in the room mounting.

                “Bombs away.”

                Seconds tick by.

                “Bull’s-eye!” “Holy shit!” “Yes.”

                “Damn.”

                Damn indeed.

                He knows then, looking at Cyclone and Warlock’s faces that they’re probably going to send Maverick. Make him team lead. Which means either he's going, or Jake is going. There aren’t any guarantees and he can't believe their actual time together may only be counted in days.

…            …            …

                By mutual agreement they don’t talk about it. They also don’t mention anything to anyone else, instead sequestering themselves away at his family home that no-one knows about except Mav, who definitely won’t be looking. They have to air it out, and deal with the dust and cobwebs, but’s it’s not as bad as it could be and he wonders if he has something else to retroactively thank Ice for, even if he can’t anymore. They buy new sheets and pillows and the entire house soon smells of them and sex and takeout food, neither of them wanting to waste time cooking when they can just be holding each other.

                He keeps up his morning cup of coffee picture, tells Jake he doesn’t ever want him to doubt how he feels about him, even when he’s lying in bed and the cup of coffee in question is brought to him by a nearly naked Jake. Tells him the view that comes with his morning cup of coffee is much improved. The time they have together might be short but he’s going to make the most of every moment they have together.

…            …            …

                “It has been an honor flying with you. Each one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission. My choice is a reflection of that and nothing more.”

                He feels sick. He doesn’t care about flying and proving Mav wrong. Not anymore. He just doesn’t want Jake to go and then not come back. He has no idea who Mav will choose, and he knows Jake feels the same about him going. They’re both good. But there are so many things that can go wrong. There’s a reason why Mav has been listing off fucking miracles.

                “Choose your two foxtrot teams.”

                “Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.”

                “And your wing man?”

                “Rooster.”

                The relief he feels is immediate, knowing that Jake is going to be safe. Is going to live. It’s immense. The look of on Jake’s makes him feel sick though, because he knows it’s exactly what he’d be feeling if Jake had just been named Maverick’s wingman instead. They find a quiet spot and Jake kisses him like he’s trying to climb inside his body, Bradley presses them together like he’d let him climb inside if he could. Then they’re having to head up on deck.

                “Give em hell,” Jake says, and he doesn’t need to say any more, he can see the unspoken words in his eyes and tense line of his jaw. You come back to me, you have to come back to me. He nods in understanding, an unspoken promise.

…            …            …

                He can’t lose his last parent, not now.

                God.

                If he survives this Jake is definitely going to kill him.

                And he’s probably going to get kicked out of the Navy.

                He hopes Jake will be okay with him being unemployed.

…            …            …

                “You all right?”

                “Yeah, I’m good. You all right?”

                Then he’s being pushed to the ground and he winces at the pain in his ribs, his head swimming a bit. Fuck. He thinks he has a concussion.

                “What the hell?”

                “What are you doing here?”

                “What am I doing here?

                “You think I took that missile so you could be down here with me? You should be back on the carrier by now!”

                “I saved your life!”

                “I saved your life! That’s the whole point! What the hell were you even thinking?”

                “You told me not to think!” Bradley snaps, because he’s got tone on him now, the fucking self-righteous asshole. They both pant, catching their breath and just stare at each other for a few moments, and he still doesn’t really know how he’s going to relearn how to not be constantly angry or upset with Maverick.

                “Well, it’s good to see you.”

                “It’s good to see you too,” Bradley states, because he’s meant to be building bridges, not yelling, no matter how much of an idiot he thinks Maverick is.

                “So what’s the plan?”

                Maverick is insane.

                That’s the plan.

                No sane person would think this was somehow feasible.

                “You’re not serious.”

                He’s thinking about Ice’s letter, talking about how he was always glad to have Maverick on his side, because it beat having Maverick as an enemy and god he hopes that still remains true. That Maverick has some infinite well of good luck. Or a guardian angel. Hopefully both.

                “You’ve got to be shitting me. An F-14?”

                “I shot down three migs in one of those.”

                “We don’t even know if that bag of ass can fly.”

                “Let’s find out.”

                “Mav!” Bradley calls out, but he’s already hustling away. “Oh for fucks’ sake…” Bradley mutters under his breath as he heaves his aching body up and convinces himself that he has to follow Mav. Does he not have pain receptors? Surely he’s aching at least half as badly as Bradley is.

                “There’s guys up there, Mav.”

                “Yeah.”

                “There’s more over there.”

                “Okay. Let’s start running.”

                “Yeah, run. Run.”

                He feels like he’s stepped back in time, the hangar holding the enemy F14 rusty. His body coursing with adrenaline and Maverick is looking crazy-eyed. Bradley knows the feeling.

                “Once… once I give you the signal for air, you’re gonna flip this switch until the needle gets to 120. When the engine starts, you got to pull out the pins and disconnect everything. You understand?”

                “Yeah.”

                Then Maverick is running around and Bradley’s glad that he apparently knows what he’s doing. He thinks of Ice and how he’d always said how crazy Maverick was. He’d always sort of thought he was exaggerating for the sake of telling a good story but is starting to think he downplayed some of the more dangerous shit that Mav has taken part of. It’s a little terrifying to think about. He hops into the back of the F-14 and stares at all the dials and little screens, only vaguely familiar. Maybe from a visit to a fucking museum. He’s starting to really believe that Mav lives the not thinking aspect of his motto, because when he questions the wings coming out, raises entirely valid concerns about it being a taxiway he is just plain ignored. No. He gets told to hang on, like he has another option or any say in the matter.

                “Holy shit!”

                Holy shit seems to be his inner and outer mantra for the next few moments, Maverick intent on having a one-sided conversation that he doesn’t need to contribute to, which is just as well because he has nothing of value to add. The way Maverick asks him to get in touch with the boat is infuriating, like it’s a simple press of a button like a kid’s walkie-talkie. Nothing is fucking working, and he doesn’t know enough to get it working. He has to ask, feels like Mav is teaching him how to drive all over again, and that was an unmitigated disaster until Ice and Sarah took over.

              �� “Throw the, uh… The uhf-2 circuit breaker. Try that.”

                “There’s 300 breakers back here. Anything more specific?”

                “I don’t know. That was your dad’s department.”

                “I’ll figure it out,” Bradley mutters, and he continues looking, only to see something out of the corner of his eye and he freezes for a micro-second. “Mav, tally two, five o’clock low. What do we do?”

                No one is ever going to believe him that Mav’s plan here is wave and smile. He follows the instructions though, can hardly believe that it somehow buys enough time for Mav’s brain to speed through however many options he thinks he has. Bradley doesn’t know how many he’s got, he can’t get past the idea that he’s going to die. Again. The idea of dying. Not actual dying. Maybe it’s just a day where he’s going to constantly think he’s going to die, but never actually does. Fuck he really really hopes so. He will live with the nightmares if he doesn’t actually have to die.

                “All right, listen up. When I tell you, you grab those rings above your head. That’s the ejection handle.”

                “Mav, can we outrun these guys?”

                “Not their missiles and guns.”

                “Then it’s a dogfight.”

                “An F-14 against fifth-gen fighters?”

                “It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot. You’d go after them if I wasn’t here,” Bradley states, absolutely certain of the fact. The taxiway was apparently easy and not risky at all. Holy shit his mind supplies.

                “But you are here,” Mav counters.

                “Come on, Mav. Don’t think. Just do.”

                God he hopes he doesn’t die. Then Mav has shot one of them down and he can’t believe it, warns him about the next one, feels helpless without the option to fire his own missiles. Watching the fifth-gen fighter in action is unreal and god he wants to fly one. Then they’re getting low and heading back into the canyon area, heading out toward the sea, so at least in the general direction of the boat at least. He’s grateful that the terrain does seem to confuse the targeting system, that they still haven’t been shot down and he knows if he lives through this he will need to thank Mav every day. Fuck. If Ice is somehow watching he’ll make sure it happens just to ensure they make up. It would be a power move from him for sure.

                When the second fifth-gen plane goes down, the pilot ejecting just before it smashes into the side of the canyon walls Bradley feels his heart start beating again, like his entire body has been in stasis for however long that all took. It probably wasn’t longer than a couple of minutes, but it feels like a lifetime and the briefest moment in time all at once. Through some miracle he gets the radio working, and if anyone asks him what he did he won’t be able to tell them. He attempts to get in touch with the boat, but he’s not sure if it’s working two-way, too distracted by the sudden beeping indicating the location of a bogey and he looks for it, knows he needs to be another set of eyes. Why can they not catch a fucking break? The fifth generation fighter appearing on their nose is a blow, as is them running out ammo, then flares. Nothing left to offer even the smallest splinter of hope. The plane is taking hits and he’s glad they built them to withstand hits because they would be dead by now. Then Mav is talking about gaining altitude and ejecting and he listens this time, pulls the handles desperately, his stomach sinking when nothing happens, the ejection function clearly broken.

                “I’m sorry, Goose.”

                Oh shit. He can almost feel the waves of Mav’s guilt, that his death is going to be as his back seater just like his dad. He feels like throwing up, not advisable and he’s not going to be alive to have to do anything about it –

                BOOM.

                The explosion, cloud of black smoke, vibrations and then the new jet appearing all happen simultaneously. Then the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

                “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your savior speaking. Please fasten your seat belts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions… And prepare for landing.”

                “Hey, Hangman, you look good.”

                “I am good, Rooster. I’m very good. I’ll see you back on deck.”

                He’s pretty sure there’s a threat in there but he could cry he’s so relieved and happy. Soon the adrenaline coursing through his body is going to stop and he’s going to hit a wall but Jake will be there. Mav will be there.

                He’s alive.

                Nothing else matters.

…            …            …

                Having working engines to land matter.

                He’s once again very glad that Mav is the one flying.

                Fuck this shit.

…            …            …

                He’s never crash landed on a deck before and he never wants to do it again. He wonders if people have bucket lists of things they don’t want to have happen, but which have happened anyway. Sounds like it might make for depressing lists.

                “You good?”

                “Yeah. I’m good,” Bradley says, but he’s already thinking about saying similar words to Jake. Searches for him as he steps down from the F-14, his legs wobbly, body aching and head starting to pitch like he’s in a storm. He spies Jake, can’t help but smile at him goofily. He looks so good and he wants to kiss him. It’s probably not a good idea.

                “Chalked yourself another kill.”

                “That makes two,” Jake says, and Bradley will save the fact that he now technically has three for a day when he needs to bring Jake down a peg. Or when he needs to remind him that he had no choice, because taking life is not a thrill either of them particularly want.

                “Mav has five. Makes him an ace.”

                Bradley shakes his head, because he’s pretty sure Mav doesn’t like the idea that he’s killed people either, although again he expects similar sage advice to don’t think if he ever asks him about it. Maybe he might surprise him though. He calls out to him, glad they’re at least going to have a chance of mending their relationship and he smiles, starting to feel the world tilt again.

                “Thank you for saving my life.

                “It’s what my dad would’ve done,” Bradley says, and he knows it’s the truth. The hug he gets has him wincing and Jake hasn’t stepped further away than a couple of feet, has clearly been watching him carefully, is pushing his way towards him, his hands running over Bradley's face and torso in concern and he presses his face into his hand, suddenly feeling like sleep would be a really good thing to do right now.

                “You need to go to the fucking sickbay.”

                “Uh… Something you want to share with the class Hangman?” Natasha asks.

                “Yeah. I just saved his life, don't want him to fall off the fucking carrier and waste all my hard work.”

                “Come on, take me to sickbay.”

                “Okay, that’s weird... Maybe he's concussed,” Natasha says.

                “Oh, he’s definitely concussed,” Maverick says, and Bradley wants to argue, but Jake’s arm is around his waist and supporting him, leading him away from the noise.

                Then they’re going down some steps, Jake turns at the bottom and reaches for him, kisses him and Bradley smiles and hums appreciatively, even with his brain feeling like it’s swimming in soup he’ll never turn down being kissed by Jake.

                “I thought you were taking me to sickbay?”

                “I am, but first I’m going to kiss you because I am so happy to see you alive. And I won’t yell at you, because I’m pretty sure you’ve got a concussion –”

                “And broken ribs,” Bradley adds, because he’s pretty that where the pain is coming from.

                “Jesus Rooster. I am so angry with you. How dare you risk yourself like that. You’re an idiot!”

                “Your idiot though. I hope?”

                “Yes you’re mine. Damn it. Come on, sickbay.”

                “Thought you were going to kiss me?”

                “I did, but then you mentioned broken ribs. And I’m thinking we’re going to have to get creative for a little bit while you mend… come on.”

…            …            …

                Of course Mav ends up in the sick bay too, being forced to be looked over by an exasperated Cyclone and amused looking Warlock. Both clearly relieved that everyone is back alive, even if not well.

                “So, how long have you two been together then?” Mav asks, and Bradley follows his gaze to his and Jake’s linked fingers. The fact that Jake hasn’t left his side. Yeah. That’s not subtle at all. He guesses they’re done with keeping it from everyone then. He’s more than okay with that.

                “Couple of days.”

                “Over a decade.”

                They look at each other and both pull a face.

                “It's complicated.”

                Maverick looks between them and simply nods his head.

…            …            …

                Jake doesn’t leave him alone, only when Natasha arrives and tells Jake to go and eat and have a shower does he actually go, kissing him quickly and throwing Natasha a wink as he leaves. She looks a bit worried and confused and he’d laugh if it didn’t hurt so much.

                “So… you finally giving up on your penpal huh? Settling with Hangman?”

                “What?”

                “Your online boyfriend. You giving the thing with Hangman a go instead now? I thought you were… going with the guy online.”

                “Uh. Not exactly. Jake is my online boyfriend.”

                “What?”

                “Yeah.”

                “The guy you’ve been… holy shit. You’ve been together for years and you’ve only just figured it out?”

                Oh fuck, he realizes his mistake then, realizes he’s never going to hear the end of it. From both her and Jake both. And probably fucking Coyote too.

                “Haven’t the two of you been fucking each other for like, the last three years?”

                “Natasha!”

                “Oh no, I have heard too many drunken ramblings about his ass to let this go. You owe me so many foot massages if you want me to keep this quiet.”

                “Fuck.”

 …           …            …

>>I need to tell you something.

>>Through Grindr?

>>Yeah well, it’s relevant I guess.

>>Wanted to tell you before I delete it off my phone.

>>I haven’t hooked up with anyone but you since 2016.

>>I mean, it’s either been you in person, or you on here. So no one but you.

                “Really?” Jake asks, voice loud in the quiet of the room.

                “Yeah, really.”

                “Oh.”

                “Mmm. You’re my first choice online and you’re my first choice in person so pretty much makes you my only choice…”

                “Good. Just the way I like it.”

                “Me too.”

2019 - Jake's POV

[ranidspace]

i don’t get the whole rap battle between Kendrick & drake because, obviously kendrick’s the better one here but he apparently knew all this shit about drake being a pedophille and groomer the WHOLE TIME and then only spoke up in order to win a fight, and kendrick had Kodak Black on his last album, who was charged and plead guilty for sexual battery in 2016 for raping a teenage girl and also got in hot water for child neglect. same kinda shit as drake. idk, no matter how good his bars are and how good he pretends he is, kendrick still just seems like a typical man who protects and supports predators when they’re his friends and calls women bitches while he’s at it

yeah. context to those who dont know kodak black was convicted of rape in 2016 (6 years before mr morale dropped) and has a history of violence

i really cant argue against that, but i believe he wasn't added to the album as an endorsement of what he did. Mr. Morale is an album about personal growth, and about Kendrick himself. Kodak said himself that him and kendrick are very similar in a lot of small ways.

while kendrick's never said why kodak was added to the album, many believe it's the contrast of despite the fact they're similar, kodak has a history of violence and has went to jail many times, highlighting how even though kendrick is successful, others like him are still struggling with systemic racism and the cycle of violence and crime pushed by that same system.

The line as well "like it when they pro black, but I’m more Kodak Black" is literally telling the viewers he's not a Savior or a Mr. Morale, he's closer to a Big Stepper who makes awful mistakes

i can't say it was a good idea to include a rapist on an album, that does deserve criticism. but i believe it wasn't him supporting rapists, it more read as "there's growth and change both individuals and the entire system needs to do"

I'd definitely say i didn't explain this part enough because i didnt know too much about kodak black so i'd really appreciate others chiming in.

as for the "people have known about drake being a groomer the whole time" yeah. people have. he's gotten away with it until now. and it's a good thing that a well respected and incredibly famous person is bringing light to it.

kendrick had fuck all to do with drake since poetic justice so he didnt say shit about him. a lot of the industry kinda hated drake the whole time, and have been speaking out against him. kendrick's just the second (shout out megan thee stallion) to make it into a popular catchy song, which is a good thing as well because it gets more people talking about it!!!

Drake was the one who made Push Ups and Taylor Made and constantly went online to told him to make a response track. like the feud would have been over at Like That but it was Drake constantly provoking him to make content. Straight up doing things that kendrick said "hey if you do this i'm going to retaliate" and then drake did it, and kendrick retaliated exactly like he said he was. This whole thing is Drake's fault, he's the one constantly pushing it.

I can't say kendrick isnt also pushing it now, but everything's pointing to he's just making more songs to bring more people to talk about it. There's no ads on the videos. He's not copyright claiming anything. He's making serious songs to highlight issues and catchy songs to spread this info far. it's a genius use of the medium to bring light to the issues drake brings.

which is what kendrick is fucking known for. using music to bring light to the issues the world face

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

The Anomaly || JJK

Bonus Chapter: Nanami Kento

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe. (or, for this chapter, Nanami's favorite moments with you)

wordcount : 2.3k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, mostly platonic Nanami Kento x reader for this one

Masterlist | Next

2016, Parallel Jujutsu Kaisen Universe 

" Okay, so because the two of you have been a pain in everyone's ass- Here's Nanami Kento! Jujutsu Tech's ex-salary man!"

Gojo Satoru is much too excited as he introduces you and Sukuna to the blonde, who's raising a brow in question.

" Please don't introduce me like that. Also, they look young. Are they even students yet?"

" We may be young, but I promise you I can beat your ass."

Nanami blinks at 14 year old Sukuna. You grin from beside him.

Nanami blinks at you too.

" They're a little younger indeed, they'll be students here in 2 years. "

Gojo is still much too excited about the whole deal. Sending two fourteen year olds along with him on missions doesn't sound like a good idea.

" No. They'll just be in the way."

From the corner of Nanami's eye, he can see you pout, cocking your head.

" Well, either they go with you or they go with me. The higher ups ordered it, and there's no one else I trust with them." 

Nanami raises a brow.

" Why would the higher ups order this?"

Both Sukuna and you are listening in on their conversation, and neither Gojo nor Nanami miss that.

However, just to their luck-

" Ah, Sukuna. Back here to get your ass beat?"

The teen snorts as he turns around, a smirk on his face as he smirks at Maki.

" You wish! I've been practicing. I'm sure I've gotten stronger!"

And just like that, Sukuna is tugging you along, away from the two adults who are very grateful for this coincidental moment.

" They want Y/N dead. They don't really care about Sukuna, but the two of them stick together like glue. "

Nanami glances at Gojo in surprise.

" Why? They're only children."

" Exactly. They're weak now. Easy to kill. Y/N's cursed technique renders the Kamo clan's immobile. They're powerless against her. Of course, they don't accept that. "

" I thought Y/N is from the Kamo clan?"

" She is. Hence why the higher ups are send onto them instead of any of the Kamo members. They're afraid of her parents."

Nanami nods.

He vividly remembers your mother, and has only heard rumors about your father. Not two people you want to be up against, not two people who'll allow you to get away if you'd murder their child.

Nanami thinks about it for a moment, before sighing.

" How often would I need to take them with me?"

" Once or twice a week for the summer break. They'll spend the rest of their time with Maki, Panda, the Jujutsu Tech staff members, Nitta and Ijichi."

Nanami nods.

" Alright. I'll find time. They will not be going on missions though."

-

Nanami finds himself pleasantly surprised. You're a pleasant kid to be around, mature enough to understand obvious choices. Sukuna is sadly not. The teenager is rude, annoying, and tends to only listen once he's beat up. Very annoying. Thankfully, you seem to cancel out his annoying attitude pleasantly, making your time together less of a forced hassle and much more pleasant.

Unexpectedly, he had found himself growing closer with you especially. He learned how to work with Sukuna. Now it never went as smoothly as it was when talking to you, but it was nice nonetheless.

Today is one of those very, very rare days. One he willingly chooses to spend with his colleagues.

" Turn right here."

Ijichi does as he says.

In the backseat, your face is pressed to the window. Sukuna is sat beside you, playing some Dark Dome puzzle game on his phone. (Idk if u ever did but I promise their games are awesome and fun.)

Beside him is none other than Satoru Gojo. For some reason, he has invited himself on this trip as well. Nanami figures that this must be so he can slack off more than he usually does. And although Nanami disapproves, he does accept it. You especially seemed happy when Gojo announced he'd join on your trip, and for some silly reason, Nanami finds himself much more relaxed when you're around.

" So, where are we going again? Are we there yet?" 

It's Sukuna who's asking the question, eyes still on his mobile game.

Meanwhile you gasp, your eyes shining as you take in the sight in front of you.

" Nanami, is that the beach?!"

Now this seemed to catch Sukuna's attention. Finally, he saves his game and tucks his phone away, peeking over your shoulder. The two of you looking at your new surroundings with wide eyes.

Indeed, the car has driven into a dune like range, sand meddling with the road now.

Moments later, you're stepping out of the car, and you're jumping in excitement as you make your way to the ocean. Nanami is walking beside you, his jacket slung over his arm, his hands tucked in his pocket.

It's too cold to swim today, so he hadn't told you nor Sukuna nor anyone else to bring swimsuits. However, it was rare to have the time to actually come all the way here. He figured he might as well make use of it.

" The base of your cursed technique is water. I figured you'd like the ocean."

And you do. He can see it in the way your eyes twinkle, taking in the sight of you.

Behind the two of you, Sukuna and Gojo are fooling around, with Ijichi watching them with a smile. It's a relaxing, rare moment.

" I do! This feels great!" 

All Nanami can do is chuckle as you approach the ocean. 

You don't allow the cold water to deter you. You run straight into the water, allowing it to reach to your knees.

Sukuna chases after you, as exited as you are.

" Woah! The water is so cold- Doesn't it bother you?"

" No- Watch this!"

Focusing, you raise your palms, and soon enough, you're taking control of the water surrounding you.

Nanami is watching you with a fond smile, the breeze running through his hair as he breaths in the scent of the ocean.

" You've grown quite fond of them, haven't you? "

Nanami hums, not ashamed to admit that he has. Gojo grins at nothing in particular.

" Me too- Wait,what?" 

Gojo has peeled away part of his blindfold to look at where you're stood in the water, focusing on your surroundings.

Nanami raises a brow.

" Something wrong? "

" Y/N's cursed energy- It's changing-"

Both men watch with wide eyes as you create a water hose. You seem to have fun with it too. 

Sukuna, who seemingly has no fear of dying, is having fun too, completely swept up in the whirlwind of water.

Nanami face palms. He'll have to teach the two of you how to be less reckless together. For now however, he'll let you have this moment. 

-

Many hours later, you're sat on the grassy field of Jujutsu Tech, waiting for your parents. Sukuna is inside the building with Gojo and Ijichi, now sneezing and probably sick thanks to the cold temperature of the water.

" Thank you for bringing us there. It was beautiful. I never felt so... free."

You're smiling at him, all happy and content.

And like always, Nanami smiles back, feeling more relaxed with you than he does with most people.

" I love the ocean myself too. It was as much fun for me as it is for you." 

You grin at his words.

For a moment, a silence settles over the two of you. However, it's pleasant. Today was the last day of your summer break/Jujutsu Tech stay. After the weekend, you will be in your final year for middle school and he will go back to the routine he was used to before this summer.

" Y/N?"

You turn to him, humming.

" Yeah?"

" On the first day I watched over you and Sukuna, I told you that you didn't have the power required to be a sorcerer."

You hum, nodding.

" Yeah, I know..."

" I'd like to take that back-"

Originally, you had averted your gaze to look at the sky again, however, hearing his words, you turn back to him with wide eyes.

" -You're powerful. I truly underestimated you. You can make it. If you want to be a Jujutsu sorcerer, then you should pursue it."

Truth to be told, Nanami just knew you had the power to change things. Perhaps, if you followed Gojo a little bit, and learned what you needed to know, you'd be very well on your way.

You were meant for something great. He just knew it.

You smile at him, feeling proud you somehow managed to get a compliment like this one out of him.

" Thank you! Don't worry. I'll make sure you and so many others will have the chance to rest." 

Nanami smiles back at you in return.

-

4 months ago, Parallel Jujutsu Kaisen Universe 

" Oh, Nanami, you're here!"

Nanami glances up from the newspaper he's reading, greeting you with a smile. Opposite him, Gojo gapes at him.

" So you do know how to smile!"

Nanami pointedly ignores him like he's been doing for the past ten minutes.

" Y/N, it's nice to see you again."

You grin at his words, nodding in agreement.

" It is! I thought I'd notice your cursed energy here. Are you busy?"

" Not yet. I still have some hours left until the meeting starts. "

" Cool. I've made a sourdough starter. Wanna make bread?" 

He raises a brow, not having expected that. Nonetheless, he gets up, putting the paper he had been reading to the side.

" Sure, I have time for that."

About 5 minutes later, Nanami finds himself stood in the dormitories' kitchen. He hasn't been here in a very long while.

The two of you are having fun setting the dough, measuring the ingredients to a recipe you found online and working together to make two buns of dough.

Nanami can't help but enjoy the moment. It's been a while since he made sourdough, and it's also been a while since he spent time with you. 

You're one of the rare students he doesn't mind spending his free time with. Your demeanor is calm enough around him, and you're not constantly filling his head with nonsense like Gojo.

Soon enough, two balls of dough are rising under a plastic bubble wrap and a hand towel.

The two of you are chatting away peacefully in the kitchen, waiting on the dough.

Suddenly, Yuuji pops his head in the kitchen, having smelled something from a distance.

" Y/N, what're you baking- Oh, Nanamin, you're here too?"

Of course, Yuuji knows that Nanami had looked over you a few years ago, and that you hung out from time to time together in a peaceful manner.

" Good afternoon, Itadori."

" We're making bread."

" What kind?"

" Sourdough- I put moonseeds on mine." 

Yuuji hums, before joining the two of you in the kitchen area, idly chatting away.

Truth to be told, Nanami is more fond of Yuuji than Sukuna. He's pleasant to be around, and a much better listener than his twin counterpart.

The last few hours are spent chatting away with both you and Yuuji, content to spend time together in the kitchen.

At the end of the day, Nanami leaves with a small loaf of bread in a plastic bag. Feeling content and happy in that rare way he rarely does.

-

Modern day, Parallel Jujutsu Kaisen Universe 

" Fushiguro-"

Nanami Kento is taken by surprise as he notices the teenager, all bloodied up, like he just returned from a huge fight.

" Nanami-"

Fushiguro has to take a break from speaking, breathing in deeply. Either he rushed all the way here, or he's in pain.

" Fushiguro, go see Ieri, you loo-"

" No. I'm fine.- Y/N's not dead."

Nanami's eyes widen. He rushes the teenager to sit down, wanting to know more.

Although he's never admitted it out loud, he cares about you a lot. Not that he ever needed to admit it, everyone was already well aware of it.

Megumi sits down beside him, throwing the weapon he's holding on the table.

Sukuna's Inverted Spear of Heaven. A weapon the marked boy doesn't leave lying around.

Why did Megumi have it?

" Sukuna and I- We went looking for her. Instead, we found it. Some curse. It almost looks human- it's intelligent. It got Sukuna. I saw it from a distant. It uses some kind of golden ring to teleport them somewhere. My guess is very far away."

Nanami's taking in the information, surprised, but glad.

At least he knows you're alive. He'll be able to notify your parents and let them know. 

He will bring you and Sukuna back.

One thing however, he's sure of. Nothing will be able to kill you if you and Sukuna stick together.

" Fushiguro, we need to talk to Gojo."

The Anomaly Taglist:

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi @hanatsuki-hime @betizda

[mysticsparklewings]

Karla Choupette, but make her Winx!

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It’s been so long since I posted art, I kinda forgot how to caption it 😅

So I’ll stick with facts: Exactly 1 year ago today, I brought home my very first Rainbow High doll, Karla Choupette. Shortly after, I wanted to draw her, and since I was on a roll with Winx-Club-Style art at the time, this is the result! 🤍

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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This won't be much of surprise to Sparklers that read my most recent Museletter, but to those that didn't: Hi! Longtime no art; How've you been? 👋 😅 If you're curious about how & where I've been, I'm going to direct you to that Museletter for the full details.

Also as you'll see in the Museletter, I had actually started on and mostly finished this piece right before my accidental half-year hiatus actually began (in December). There are many reasons (discussed at length in the Museletter) as to why I've held onto this piece for so long, but chief among them are 1. A lack of motivation to type this description and 2. Even months later, I was still not 100% sure about the background I originally picked out.

We'll talk more about the background in a bit. Firstly, especially for those that didn't read the Museletter, I should probably tell you who/what exactly this is and why you're staring at it. 😆

This lady, dear Sparklers, is one Karla Choupette of Shadow High, which is a...sub-line? I guess is the best way to put it? of the Rainbow High doll line. Except, per my usual art shenanigans, she's been drawn in the Winx Club art style. 😅

Karla is also known as: The Doll that Broke My (also unintentional) 5-6 year Doll Buying Hiatus. And in fact, that was the final key to me dusting off my typing fingers to finally bring this art to you Sparklers today.

I'll try and keep this story brief, but...Well, loyal Sparklers know how me and "brief" usually go, so I'll just apologize in advance for how very not-brief this actually will be...

In a way, this story starts in 2016 with the second generation of Monster High.

The first generation of Monster High was, pretty indisputably, my "true doll love" even though until it's beginning in 2010 I'd been raised on mostly Barbie and some Bratz. But the second generation was almost completely canned by the fan base, including me.

By 2018, most Monster High merchandise had disappeared from stores entirely. It all happened so fast for a franchise that had been such a lightning-in-a-bottle success before; It was depressing. (It's still depressing, to be completely honest, even with G3 now alive and well.)

And after that, for years the was really nothing for me in the doll space. With Monster High and Ever After High gone, Barbie's quality having taken a nosedive, Bratz's presence be wildly inconsistent...Whatever options were left either didn't appeal to me personally or didn't stick around long enough for that to matter.

So for the next few years, my attention in the toy aisle was pretty squarely on Shopkins, Num Noms, and the occassional other surprise toys that tempted me enough to try at least once. 🤷‍♀️

In 2020 (so I've been told by the internet—I couldn't have remembered the date if my life depended on it because that's how little attention I was paying to them at the time), Rainbow High dolls started appearing in store. And I do believe I remember seeing them in-store, possibly even an enclosed display. And I remember really not liking them at the time!

And I didn't like what I saw of Rainbow High for a considerably amount of time after that. But somehow, someway, I did very slowly start to come around to them. I think the biggest factor was when I started to understand that despite what sounded like a cutesy name to me, Rainbow High was not effectively a line of CareBears dressed as teenage girls.

Though, at this stage, when I say "come around to," I really mean I stopped viewing the line with active disdain. It would take a while longer of random images popping up on my Instagram and Pinterest feeds (mostly Instagram) before I started to think, "Oh well maybe I'd buy one if xyz..."

But I don't think it was too much longer after the "if xyz" phase that I was browsing around on Pinterest

And there, that was the moment—*Gasp*, Who is she? She looks like Ivy if Ivy were pink! She's so pretty!!

Karla Choupette had appeared.

And for the record, yes—I did and still do think Karla looks a lot like what I envision for my Winx OC Ivy aside from the pink coloring. So if in the future you see me draw Ivy and her outfit looks suspiciously familiar, now you'll know why!

But, to be fair, that's not the only thing about Karla's design that appeals to me. The stark contrast of colors is one for sure, as well as the slight contrast of the punk-ish boots with the more formal/business-like dress/top situation. And after I did (spoiler alert) bring Karla home, I realized she bears some resemblance to one of my favorite Monster High dolls of all-time, Zomby Gaga, so there was almost definitely some subconscious influence coming from that.

Anyway. It was a little bit of a slow burn, but eventually the desire to actually get a Karla doll was rattling around in my head so loudly it was was very nearly literally keeping me up at night.

I completely lucked out in the timeline that Karla had already been out for a while at that point and last year's Amazon Prime Day wasn't too far around the corner. Sure, I could have just bought her at any time, but considering I'd been out of the doll-buying game a while and my "first doll back" was going to be one completely unlike the rest of my collection [..and I use that term kind of loosely here], so I didn't want to put too much money on the line when it was fully possible I'd get her home and unboxed and decide I didn't actually like her all that much.

The funny thing is, the story could've even there. Or at least taken a significant detour. Because, sure enough, Amazon did mark Karla down for Prime Day at the time, but before I could go through with the purchase, she sold out. 🙃

On a whim though, I decided to check Walmart a little later in the day, and lo and behold—Apparently they really wanted to compete with Amazon for sales that week, so they'd dropped their price on Karla to match and actually still had her in stock!

I ordered her for local pickup to avoiding paying for shipping, and the next day—Exactly one year ago today!—Karla came home with me. [And you can see a picture of my exact Karla in that Museletter I mentioned before, for those curious!]

It would be another couple of days before I actually opened her; Both in the store when we picked her up and while I was opening her, I was honestly a little scared that physically being able to hold her would somehow break whatever magic hold this doll had had over me up until either point.

But as you can probably guess by the way I'm telling this story and the fact that this art exists—Nope! And even a year and 20 (...soon to be 21...) more Rainbow/Shadow High dolls later, Karla is still my favorite. She is, in fact, the only one I currently have 2 of, as I found an incomplete-but-in-great-shape Karla for cheap on eBay about a month later.

To be fair, I should back up a bit and clarify: If you're familiar with the doll space, you may be wondering why/how Karla was the buying-hiatus-breaker for me even though Monster High G3 started releasing new dolls in 2022.

Technically I suppose she wasn't because I did get some of the MH G3 dolls and Howliday Draculaura for Christmas 2022, but for space/storage related reasons, it would be much longer before I actually opened any of my new MH dolls, and there were various aspects that made G3 still feel kind of rocky and uncertain at the time.

Karla was the one that really sparked my excitement for dolls in general again, though the excitement manifested as a rolling snowball instead of a roaring fire—I started out, as many doll fans across all brands have, insisting Karla would be the "only" Rainbow High doll I wanted/needed.

And if you'll remember I quoted a collection of 20 Rainbow High dolls a few paragraphs ago, then you'll already know exactly how that well-intended insistence turned out. 😆 [And this isn't even touching on the fact that, as also mentioned in the Museletter, that Karla and the Rainbow High girls also ignited a "make things for the dolls from scratch" spark in me that I have felt in...Mm, probably not since the earliest days of Monster High, sometime before 2013.]

Some of you are also now probably doing the math on how we arrived at the concept for this artwork—This is very much not the first (or even second or third) time that I've used the Winx Club art style as a vessel to express my love for some other thing.

It's been a while since the idea began by now, but I remember I had inklings of wanting to draw Karla for a while—I think in particular I wanted to play with Karla's white eyelashes in illustrated form since it's both something I've never seen on a doll before and also white eyelashes in general are just a unique and interesting concept to me—And since I was sorta on a roll with the Winx Club stuff/style, it wasn't too long or too far of a leap in logic to decide this is the way it would be done.

Likewise, if you've seen any of my most-recent Winx art, you'll already be fairly familiar with my process for how the art comes together in the most literal senses. So because of that and because it has been long enough that I don't remember finer details like areas that were particularly tricky so well, I'm going to skip over a lot of that here.

However, I do remember and can tell you a few things that make Karla here a little different from some of those other attempts of mine, so I will now start rambling about that in whatever order things come to mind.

Firstly and possibly the most obvious, Karla you could say Karla's wasn't "Winx-fied" as intensely as Helena or The Nanny, which was a very purposeful choice. I love Karla's original design so much that I really didn't want to touch it too much, and so while a fairy form like those other two artworks can often be more fun, I opted to keep Karla "casual."

To that end, I followed what patterns and "rules" I've observed for the Winx's Season 2-3 "casual outfits" as best I could without making any serious alterations. [The linked screenshot isn't the best example of said patterns/rules—You kinda have to take in multiple screenshots to get the best feel for that—but it's a decent enough point of reference for which outfits I'm talking about.]

So the main thing you'll notice are the things I took away or simplified because I think thy pushed Winx Club's style "limits" a bit too far—Karla has her fan but it's missing the word "Shadow" across the front, the zippers on her shoes aren't well-defined, the charm/pin from her tie is missing, you can't see the pinstripes on her dress (though if this were meant to be the Seasons 2-3 promo art style and not true-to-show style, I would've left those in)...things like that.

I did make small exceptions for things I felt would take away too much if I left them out like the details on her belt, the buckles on her boots, giving her eyeshadow, etc. But I tried to balance it all out. The belt is probably still pushing it, but I genuinely wasn't sure how else to handle it and I think everything else worked out well enough.

Now, I did make the decision to approach the line work more so how Season 4 would do it—There are more colored lines here than is really typical for Season 3, especially when you count Karla's hair. This was mostly done to try and preserve some of Karla's own "feel" when you look at her, but also a little for contrast of the different elements/textures at play. [For example, I thought lining her hair in black would look too harsh.]

...I should also probably mention that while I still stand by Karla looking a lot like what I want for Ivy, I really was focused on trying to capture Karla as herself here—I can't say Ivy never entered my mind during the drawing process because that's kind of impossible given that she lives and dies entirely in my imagination, but I did not consciously at any point use Ivy as reason or justification for any changes made to Karla's design.

Oh, and if this pose feels a little familiar, much like with Fran, I opted to re-use a pose I'd already been working with around the time I started this project. It's hard to tell from my sketches in the linked image, but in this case I did decide to re-draw the arms to nearly the opposite position because it made figuring out what to do with her fan so much easier.

Ironically, this pose is not at all the best way to get a good look at her white eyelashes, but I worked with what I had to make something nice without it taking 2-3 (or more) times as long, so I'm not actually too upset about that.

You could say that's sorta what happened with the background—I can't say this is my most favorite background I've ever put together, but I really did not have any better ideas, so...🤷‍♀️

Maybe it's obvious, maybe it's not, but I decided to try combining a design formula that's been used in a lot of the Rainbow High boxes as a background (and sometimes in other promotional material) with some general ideas from promotional images/profiles you may have seen of the Winx before.

So if you thought you were seeing Alfea castle edited into a rainbow gradient back there, you would be absolutely right. 😉

This is also why Karla's name is just kinda randomly hanging out over there on a "true to show style"—It's a little more consistent with the Winx profiles/images and added a little extra something I felt was missing from the full package.

And while not my primary motivation, I did kind of like the idea that with a background situation like this, if I decide I ever want to draw more Winxify-ed Rainbow High girls, I can re-use it and have them all a little more visually united as a series.

I have no current plans to do that, but I like being able to leave the door open for it, y'know?

...I think those are all the main things I wanted to mention. This is the real trouble with not writing these descriptions as soon as I'm able—I forget too much! But there's not much to be done about it now, so oh well I guess.

In such case, the important thing really is that I'm still happy with how the art turned out. Or at least Karla and some of the other details. Even at this very moment I still have my quibbles and doubts with the image of Alfea hanging out back there, but at this point I really don't want to put off uploading this any longer solely because of that, of all things.

Since I did find it in me to scramble what was left of this description together though, coupled with things I mentioned in that last Museletter, I really hope this means I've finally turned some kind of internal corner and and that it won't be another block of months before you Sparklers see more art from me.

At the very least, I can now say I've tried this new submission portal from dA and...It's not my beloved Sta.sh, but...eh, it's okay I guess. I still miss my editing/formatting tools being more available like in a proper text editor, but in some ways I do think I like this better than the previous submission portal, if I'm going to be forced to type out my descriptions in here from now on.

I think at least knowing that—that I'm marginally more familiar with this new portal now—will be a step in the right direction.

One last thing before I leave you Sparklers for today—I plan to give this description a once-over before I submit, but I've written most of it late at night after a busy shopping day and may or may not have caught myself almost dozing off a couple of times, so on top of my faulty memory, if you notice any exceptionally weird mistakes, that's probably where those came from and I missed them on my second read-through. 😅

In any case, Sparklers, I thank you for still being here and being patient with me—Like I said before, I sincerely hope this is just the beginning of me finally being "back," at least for a while, but ultimately only time will tell if it is or not.

But if it is, then I expect to see you all again much sooner rather than later...😉

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Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings

Karla Choupette/Rainbow High © MgA Entertainment

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[punmasterkentparson]

Top 10 Favorite Things I’ve Written (In Order of Publication, Oldest to Newest)

10.  (I’m) Stuck On Your Amber Lips (Oct. 2016)

It’s self-contained and kinda cheesy, which is exactly my speed. I like taking one or two running gags and using them as a metaphor to tie the whole story together. Alexei struggling to speak his second language while being perfectly eloquent in his head pops up in a lot of my stories.

9. All My Friends Are Here (Dec. 2016)

I challenged myself to write a 4-way polyamorous one-shot. It’s good to challenge yourself in fiction. And because of this fic, I got to write more with Jack/Tater, which was a TREAT.

8. The Legend of Kent Parson’s Sex Hair  (Dec. 2016)

The line “ You look like you got debauched in the back row of a Beyonce concert. Twice.” came from Tumblr, but the other lines were all me. I’m particularly proud because I’m hella aroace and don’t find people sexy, lol.

7. An Ocean Getaway (With Rum) (Dec. 2016)

Billionaires shouldn’t be allowed to exist, but I still like writing the “sugar daddy” trope, even if this isn’t QUITE that. It fulfills the dual fantasy of having someone trustworthy with a shitton of money take care of you, and being that person with a shitton of money so you can take care of someone you care about. I like writing this AU of Kent and Alexei because there’re pretty stable, mature adults. They talk, they don’t get jealous or have shame about who they are or the sex they like.

6. You’re My Open Road (Feb. 2017)

This 10k oneshot came from a 3-day weekend spent on my sofa drinking coffee and clicking my way down highways on Google Street View. I’d never put so much effort into researching a fic before, but it was fun as hell. It was also the easiest fic I’ve ever written; once I got on a roll, the words just came out.

5. Hooked On Feelings (Feb. 2018)

I do a lot of cat rescue and this came from my experience with that. It was also hilarious to write about rescuing a cat from the perspective of a guy who doesn’t GET cats. I love Monster (the cat). 

4. Bare (Aug. 2018)

I never broke rules as a kid. I never took risks, never snuck out of the house or did anything that could get me in trouble. Being a teenager was hard enough so I don’t know if I wish I had. There are things that you can’t tell the adults in your life, things you’re going through that only the people who are going through it too can understand. I tried to write more for this but I think I liked it better as a oneshot. It leaves the door open for a happier ending than I think I could write.

3. The Corner Caved In (Sept. 2019)

My first (but not last) crossover with the Detroit: Become Human universe. I like how Kent came out in this: no bravado, scared shitless of his own activism. It was also fun to play with two fully-developed universes and see how they came out.

2. vampire weekend (March 2019)

Normalizing and adding bureaucracy to fantasy and horror is something I don’t do often, mainly because I end up thinking TOO hard about it and spending more time on world-building than writing. I enjoyed writing the magnetism of Kent-the-vampire in this, contrasted with his casual attitude. And having Kent speak Russian allowed me to write Alexei without the wall of second language struggles, so he spoke fluently on his own terms.

1. but the cat came back (Oct. 2019)

What I like about horror is exploring the trade-offs that people are willing to make, and what in their lives is important enough that they’ll make the exchange.

Honorable Mention:

Cliff’s Edge (Oct. 2016)

This is the the only multi-chapter fic I have. It’s intimidatingly massive. It’s not finished, likely because I’m working through the same kind of grief and frustration for a lost life as Alexei. A the time of writing chapter 13, I sitll didn’t know what the source was. Now I know it’s because I’m trans and autistic, and I’ll never get back my childhood or young adulthood. Grief is a process, and it’s hard to write about a character coming out the other side when you haven’t done that yet, either. Hopefully, 2023 will be the year.

Hope you liked the list. Thanks for all the support over the years. I feel like I still have some fics to finish, so keep checking back (or go to AO3 and subscribe for updates) to see what’s new.

[biblioflyer]

Being a red shirt on the info literacy and empathy front lines.

This is a bit of a meta post and by "going there" I'm really just trying to generate more of the sort of "you are seen" genre for whomever it has meaning. If it has a whiff of "look at me, I'm an ally, I'm helping by yelling into the void" then I don't know really know what to tell you, maybe it is and if it is, feel free to keep on scrolling, I am not consciously demanding your affirmation, just rambling about the role of sci-fi in my life in getting me to this point ethically and professionally.

I am a red state millennial librarian. Don't feel as sorry for me as you might reflexively think I want you to. I'm not a public librarian or a public school librarian, I'm an academic librarian. Moms for Liberty hasn't directed its Eye of Sauron at us (yet.) Thus we're able to keep stocking LGBTQ literature without too much worry of people screaming at us. For now at least.

Why does this matter?

Well through a little loophole we are officially an academic library that provides services to young adults and the public in addition to formal college students without being a public or school library. I'm reluctant to share too many biographical details, but suffice to say you might be surprised at what is part of your nearest academic library collection and it may be easier than you think to access that collection.

Individual institutions are going to have their own policies, however because we are part of a broader consortium that all shares resources, we offer reciprocal services to every member of that consortium and their patrons if those patrons come to us with a valid library card from one of the member counties or a peer institution.

So if your public library has been gutted, take a peak at local colleges. They are more likely than you think to have queer literature, including queer and diverse literature in the YA genre, as well as inclusive children's books even picture books. College libraries know many of their students are either parents or are intending to go into public education (god help them) and thus have some very infrequently utilized special collections that they would love to see circulate so they can justify buying more.

This being a nerd blog, let me just speak briefly of the role of sci-fi and fantasy allegories in my development. I could very easily have been one of the people that I fear may come for my job. The people we have done workshops rehearsing how to respond professionally, empathetically, but also forcefully to formal challenges to what's on our shelves and informal challenges - i.e. people intent on making spectacles.

I don't say that I "fear" these people lightly, our head of DEI initiatives was sacked after the program was expected (and ultimately) was defunded. This person was not offered a job in a different department. I'm not super in touch with what goes on outside my department but I'm told that this person was broadly respected and other than their job title, was never involved in anything controversial or had any interpersonal disputes.

So we who are heteronormative don't get the luxury of putting our heads down and assuming this will blow over. We can't actually know with any certainty how many degrees of separation are between us and the ire of the Christian Nationalist fever that has swept the nation.

Anywho, Handmaid's Tale isn't exactly the sci-fi I meant to talk about (although boy howdy did it scare the bejeezus out of me the first time I listened to it and that was - I think - pre-2016.)

I grew up in a very rural area with minimal diversity. My exposure to diversity and later queer representation was almost entirely through media. Star Trek was a big one, but also Roseanne which ironically makes the comedian's red pilling more heart breaking than JK Rowling - its a xenniel thing, I was in my edgy ironic full of myself no time for childish things teenage years when Harry Potter came out.

I'm sitting here in 2023, and I can see the absurd falseness of the rhetoric of grooming discourse. Riker's fling with an androgynous alien or Jadzia Dax's open pansexuality didn't make me queer. It de-stigmatized being queer and left me open to taking seriously the self expressed experiences of people who I was open to befriending. As an adult, while I've found Discovery to be frustrating in many ways, one of the things that keeps me coming back is Culber and Stamets. Their performances and arcs have been a consistently solid part of an otherwise very messy production.

Much as Culber and Stamets are simply decent human beings just trying to get by and overcome crisis after crisis, so too are the queer people I've befriend. Their sinister agenda is to walk in public with their partner without people walking between them not thinking they're actually together or being harassed. Some of them are parents of developmentally well adjusted children.

I'm not looking for ally virtue signal points by praising these storylines, I'm just recognizing them for what they are: pieces of my development as a person. Which makes me happy to be in a place in my life where if nothing else, for now I get to make available a wide variety of experiences and perspectives for people to be exposed to. Its not my job to force anything on anyone and I order plenty of straight forward murder mysteries, romances, and swashbuckling epics that don't require a lot of critical thinking, but I like knowing that something I placed on the shelf might make someone accept themselves or accept someone else.

[x-birdsong-x]

Scream Queens for the choose violence ask game?? ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

I'll skip ones I can't answer. also sorry this is messy.

1 - It's the fault of the writing itself but Hester. Also MyPretties you're never escaping me:

See one thing that baffles me is that the first one- that looking at what it talks about, should have come first- is the one from 2016. Something in S2 brought them back to thinking about Gigi and I'd love to know why. So I can debunk their every word.

7 - Nobody the fandom's made me do exactly the opposite. I still can't believe I ever took in the old fandom's opinion on Grace.

8 - I can't say if any of these were popular but let's do a speedround, shall we?

Grace is annoying. Pete's view of Grace was ever entirely healthy. Pete's view of Chanel was ever entirely healthy. Gigi's badly written and didn't love her kids. Hester was always retcon-Hester. Boone isn't actually insanely interesting. S2 taking place in the hospital didn't have any positives. Brock was well-written???

9 - THE RETCON. S2's tone change. I would die for S2 to have had the tone of its cliffhanger if it really had to be different even slightly to S1.

10 - I have to say on each of these ones that I wasn't there so never take my word for it but the retcon being accepted for Hester's character. Thank you.

12 - GRACE. Is looking deeper into a character's actions that hard?? I won't explain too much here mostly because I'm currently in pain but looking back on the old things I can still find sometimes drives me crazy. Grace's actions in S1 come from her world literally breaking down around her. And it's partly her shitty father's fault! I also find Grace being the S2 cliffhanger Devil so interesting! And I'm right because I'm working with it currently!! S3 AU secrets!!

13 - Not sure if there's really an answer for this one? Maaayyybe I can say retcon-Hester in a way? I will say though there are/were a few out there doing this with Pete and even one post wishing he'd been given a.. redemption arc? Pete's a fantastic villain and I enjoy him that way lmao. He's not redeemable.

14 - Chanel and Libby lmao.

16 - Not sure if it's like so much as didn't notice but everything the retcon did and also S2's timeline error but that one's just funny. The way Brock is written.

18 - GIGI AND HER BABIES!! GIGI AND BOONE!! BOONE AND HIS CONNECTION TO PETE! PETE'S END OF THAT! HESTER'S END OF ALL THIS!! FOAMING AT THE MOUTH!!

20 - Lol nope. Although Brock's hand was just silly writing. Did you know there was an out of control hand episode of House? And it was more unsettling than this in some scenes? And had a medical explanation in the episode?? I've been on a House kick sorry.

22 - Everyone's depth/j No but actually bringing it back around to Gigi and her kids. Gigi and Boone. Hester's actual character. Grace being the SQS occurrence of "This character is so annoying!" *character is a teenager in bad situation*

25 - Grace is annoying.

[lao-huangs-bitch]

AIGHT ITS MY TURN W THE X HIGHSCHOOL BRAINROT!!!

[Achievement Unlocked: How Did We Get Here?]

I had these designs since like, 2016 bc I was Projecting my Student Years onto my Current Hyperfixation

Imma Copy Wiff n do some Explaining bc Why Not I feel like Infodumping

I actually did Mine based on American schools bc like I said, I mostly made this while Projecting

Lao:

Age 18, Senior

The Campus Bad Boy with absolutely No Respect for Anyone, not even Himself. Spends more time Oversleeping, Smoking out by the Bleachers, and getting Stoned in the Bathroom than actually attending class. Despite never being present, either Physically Skipping, or Mentally Sleeping, he still somehow manages to answer questions correctly. The only thing keeping him somewhat in check is Douglas, who pesters him to get to Class and do his Assignments. It doesn't always work, though. He's also a Bully and spends time picking on Gwin, but Douglas is the one to pull Lao Away from the poor kid. It was in these moments of Douglas pulling Lao away from whatever Freshman he was spitting on this time that the two met, and grew into unlikely friends.

He lives with his Mother, but his Father is barely in the picture due to being In and Out of Jail. No Siblings, and finds himself Alone at home a lot due to his mother working Two Jobs. He's on the road to being a Full Junkie, and sometimes gets Caught up in really Dangerous activities. Lately though, he's been trying a little harder to behave himself if he ever wants to talk to the cute girl in English Class....

Etc Things:

- Hates Elma w a Burning Passion... for Obvious reasons.

- has a Car. His license isn't exactly Valid, but he absolutely cares about that /s

- He has your typical Teenage Boy Blackhole Stomach and won't stop Snaking. This could also be from the Weed.

Douglas:

Age 17, Senior

Hailed as the High School Quarterback, he's the only guy Big Enough to put even Lao in his place. All of his free time and passion goes into Sports because he needs an Athletic Scholarship if he ever hopes to get into College. While he does his best to be a Good Student, it's very stressful to balance Sports, Class, and a Part Time Job all at the same time, and can get involved in Laos Shinanigans like Smoking or Skipping Class when life gets him down. He's generally very Loved and Respected, but his teenager hormones can get the best of him and make him aggressive if provoked, and Lao seems to be the best at pushing his buttons. But it's the occasional acts of Rebellion that earns him Laos Respect.

He lives with his Mother and 3 Younger Brothers after his Father passed away. His brothers are 9, 10, and 12 years old, so it's hard for him to make any connections with them. His mother takes advantage of Douglas a lot, all while Babying his brothers, so he's come to resent his family a lot. He works a part time job at a Fast Food joint to try and help make ends meet.

Etc Things:

- His Voice is always Cracking from all the growth spurts, and his pants are always just a little Too Short. His mom has no idea when this boy is going to Stop Growing.

- He's not the Brightest but it's mostly because his brain is so Cluttered. His Demeanor and Attentiveness/Engagement are mostly what help him scrape by.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

AU - Canon Divergence Masterlist

A Rose of Winter (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: All Daniel wanted to do was escape the stifling life as a Stark of Winterfell and travel the world. Between the looming threat North of The Wall and the den of lions in the capital, he unexpectedly finds love in the midst of a war set to tear Westeros apart. Caught between loyalty to his family and duty, he is torn in a thousand directions that all point to one man: Philip Flowers.

A Toast to Now (ao3) - melapplesphan

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, 2016, and Phil Lester's plane home for the holidays has been delayed due to snow. In a fit of boredom, he finds himself taking an uncharacteristic leap and striking up a conversation with "DanielH."

Meanwhile, Dan Howell can't quite believe that AmazingPhil - the same guy who ignored his messages 7 years ago - just started chatting with him on Grindr.

After All These Years (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: They met her after tour. Martyn’s friend’s dog had puppies and Phil fell in love at first sight. Dan did too, but he’ll deny it if you ask.

Dan tries to keep his distance, because she’s Phil’s dog not his, but she isn’t having any of it.

All the sunlight of our past (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: YouTube is a mess.

Phil's been struggling with it for a while and has just taken a job as a video editor to make ends meet while he figures out whether he still loves it anymore.

Dan's channel has been dead ever since he started working at BBC Radio One and the two haven't seen each other in years.

During a chance meeting in 2019, Dan gets papped coming out of a gay club and his life is sent in to turmoil. He blames Phil, because it had been his idea to go there in the first place, so they're straight back to not talking.

The only recourse Dan has to salvage his career is to return to his YouTube channel after all these years and make a coming out video on his own terms. What he doesn't know is that Phil is the editor he just hired to help him with it.

and my fate has begun to change (ao3) - ovely

Summary: Dan has an inspiring piano teacher as a teenager and decides to dedicate his life to music. After he starts uploading piano videos to YouTube, he finds himself unintentionally becoming a popular YouTuber. Then he meets Phil, and slowly finds a life more like that of the Dan we know.

cause i remember the rush (when forever was us) (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: If he were to go live on radio and have a chat about his life it would bring up a lot of old skeletons in the closet that he tried so hard to keep in there. He knew eventually that he’d have to clean it out to move on. or it's been six years since Dan has last seen Phil.

Christmas Coming Out (ao3) - FandomFeels17

Summary: He didn't intend to come out to his mum in his future mother in law's kitchen at Christmas... But here he was, doing exactly that.

Da (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: One day can change your life forever. For Phil, his daughter Mel, and Dan, who'd have guessed that day would be one when they're out doing ordinary shopping together.

-

in a universe where the only difference is they never got together in 09, yet still harbor those feelings

Dan and Phil versus the World (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: In an alternate universe (where Poe the cactus survived), Dan and Phil revisited Japan after TATINOF. Now they’re back in London, but something's changed, leaving Dan tense and restless. Maybe they’ve been so busy selling Dan and Phil™ all these years that they’ve forgotten how to be themselves. Storytelling has a way of seeping into real life, but it only confounds things when you start to believe it.

Diary - i-love-phan-and-butts

Summary: Dan and Phil are playing his and seek when Phil hides in Dan’s closet and finds a load of sex toys and possibly a sex diary of dreams he’s had about Phil and Phil confronts Dan about it.

Disney World Misadventures (ao3) - auroraphilealis (peachrosepetals)

Summary: Dan, a law student with parents so strict they make him come home every weekend, gets ditched by his friends at Disney World in Florida during his short summer holiday. Alone, he runs into an incredibly attractive YouTuber who nerds out about anime with him, and even buys him a tiny Ciel figurine. Dan, meanwhile, quickly finds himself falling in love, especially after they get it on in a Disney World bathroom.

Dropping Anchor in a Storm (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Phil wakes in the early hours to a thin beam of sunlight breaking through his curtains, and the soft sound of Dan breathing by his side.

He should be able to bask in the peace and stillness of the room, but his brain won't let him do that today.

for you are not beside but within me (ao3) - obsessivelymoody

Summary: Dan and Phil spend a day off in Vancouver

game plan (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: In another universe, Dan posted "the June video" in 2018 as originally planned, right in the middle of the Interactive Introverts tour. But how would he and Phil have handled the gaming channel?

In the shadow of your heart (ao3) - croissantbleu

Summary: Dan and Phil fell apart a few years ago, and if Phil seemed to have no problem getting used to his new life back in Manchester with his husband Noah, Dan has a few more difficulties moving on. But when Phil comes down to London to attend Louise’s party and ends up having to stay with Dan for a few days, who can tell what will happen

Magic Tricks (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: Every magician knows there is no such thing as magic. They are masters of making things possible out of a situation that seems impossible. The key to getting what you want in life is to know that the only reason why something is, is because it was made possible. It can only be if it is possible for it to be. Make it possible and let it be.

-

A relationship in reverse.

Our Flaws Are Aligned (ao3) - phantasizeit

Summary: Dan and Phil are YouTubers, but they hate each other. Phil is reminded of this when he’s forced to interact with him at the Spain Creator’s Summit. Their situation isn’t helped by their complicated past when their firecracker relationship crashed and burned. When Stop, Speak, Support contacts Phil to be a headlining speaker in their tour across schools in the UK, he is more than excited, until he finds out he’ll working next to his YouTube enemy. Phil doesn’t expect their time planning the tour together to rekindle old feelings he thought he’d long since buried.

Retrace, Retry (ao3) - catboydan

Summary: In 2012, Dan left Manchester and Phil didn’t follow. Dan didn’t let him.

Now, it’s 2016 and Dan returns to retrace his steps and maybe, possibly, have a chance at a second try.

share you like an island (ao3) - JudeAraya

Summary: When Phil gets picked up by a beautiful boy at a uni party, he's expecting a one night stand.

What he doesn't expect is to keep falling into bed with the boy with a reputation. Who turns out to also be a youtuber. Who somehow becomes his best friend. It's not complicated.

Until it kinda is.

Ships that pass in the night (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan and Phil are YouTubers. The catch? They’ve never met, and Phil doesn’t want them to.

so tell me darling do you wish we'd fall in love? (ao3) - furryphil

Summary: after being dragged to playlist live, dan expects a weekend of waiting in lines for a ridiculous amount of time and dealing with screaming fangirls. what he didn’t expect was to meet his teenage idol, AmazingPhil. he didn’t expect for said teenage idol to ask for his number and actually take interest in him.

Super Amazing Project: Unsolved (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: They find a hallway once they’re inside with a big, wide, broken window. It lets in more than enough light to film and the shot of the graffitied wall behind them is interesting. Phil sets up the tripod. They stand in frame, a safe foot of space between them. They both clear their throats. “Hey guys, and welcome to another episode of The Super Amazing Project!”

A fic about canon divergence and hauntings.

VETSCO à gogo (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: The guy is just really hot, and maybe Dan’s also a bit concerned he’s going to fall with all the times he’s watched him wiggle and wobble on seemingly unsteady limbs. He never does, or at least he hasn’t yet, but Dan would like to think he’s got his back if he ever does.

or

the twitch streamer who just can't seem to get his roller skating neighbor out of his mind

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: Our WORST Dating Experiences

Date video was published: 12/05/2020 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 427

The start of the “Phil and Phriends” Stereo shows and SO MANY videos in December 2020. He announced these on December 1. The actual live show was on December 2, so a few days before he got this edited and posted.

 Phil’s last collab with Louise on his channel (including Dan) was in 2016, and the only previous video he had with just her was back in 2013.

0:01 - he started doing this little “preview” thing in his December videos

0:22 - Christmas Phil! also, I forgot he did a tiny filmed intro for this one to introduce the Stereo shows. this black shirt and the long quiff...yes

0:39 - he must have recorded this after the live show (or he’s just predicting a “large lol”)

0:45 - always weird to see the mirrored image of him

1:24 - even though it’s mostly Louise saying it and not Phil, an age mention/conversation is strange on Phil’s channel. he doesn’t really talk about how old he is ever

1:49 - I enjoy that Phil put in some of his usual editing touches

2:16 - DNP did not have room for a lot of Christmas decorating with just living in the filming flat at this point. those lights on the plant and the tiny tree (🥺) were about it

2:29 - I enjoy Louise roasting him a bit for that 😂

2:38 - if you didn’t know what Phil was talking about, this would be quite a transition, lol. at least he included a clip of it for some context

2:56 - I feel like Louise was not prepared for Phil’s topics

3:06 - jesus christ...I don’t want to know where Phil comes up with these things

3:26 - Phil looks slightly horrified by that revelation

3:50 - this whole conversation...why

4:25 - I don’t think anyone would have predicted this topic of conversation

5:28 - awww, nice Louise

6:13 - yes, good safety points

6:59 - “maybe two years ago, I would go for the ‘your mum’ joke...” not just two years ago; literally always 😂 also I don’t think Phil quite processed the situation that was being described in that message

7:37 - “I’m a gay” yes Phil; every time he’s so open and casual about it, it makes me so happy for him

7:54 - and he can keep all the stories distinctly pre-university...

8:06 - there was some missed communication ahead of this that Phil was going for “awkward teenage dating”

8:21 - awww, poor Louise that is awkward; and nice Phil!

8:55 - I would not know how to react to that, yikes?

9:54 - oh, poor young Phil

10:18 - Phil’s little smile and glance down at Louise’s engagement 🥺

10:37 - “you don’t know in your 20s and 30s either” Phil cannot relate

10:43 - Phil thumb biting is not a usual video thing. hard maybe to keep track of the audio, what probably felt like a zoom hangout with Louise, and that it’s actually being recorded; a different feeling for him than a usual YouTube video

11:37 - this story gets creepier the more it goes on

12:14 - Louise getting that self-promo in

12:45 - what a plot twist. Phil’s reaction is great. also...WHAT. what would you even say

13:21 - just yikes

13:59 - oh my god, Louise 😂

14:47 - this story had many plot twists too

15:25 - Louise’s face at “do you want to see my blastoise” 😳

15:37 - now she got it, lol

16:02 - Louise not knowing what Pokémon Go was called either. even though she played it!

16:55 - ooo, listening to this live and the hesitation before the Dan mention...it definitely felt like Louise wasn’t sure if that was okay or not

17:02 - she’s thinking of the third Pokémon Go video on the gaming channel. Phil knows exactly where they were and what happened!

17:26 - I would read “getting off with” as much more than “making out” 👀 ...regional/country differences in language are something

18:27 - “if I’m gonna woo this lass” 😂

18:38 - those were very normal air-quotes from Phil...he CAN do them

18:46 - who doesn’t want chocolate?!

19:16 - Louise’s reactions during this whole story are fantastic

19:36 - I’m with Louise cringing here “what did you do?...” oh Phil

20:43 - maybe the girl was like...’please let me babysit with someone else next time’ 

21:44 - yeah leading off with that so early...maybe not

21:49 - “there’s a time and a place for the foot fetish” -phil lester, 2020

22:00 - this was the “stereo exclusive” bit for the later shows. Phil didn’t quite have it all worked out for this first one, which makes sense

22:34 - I’ve never heard the airports one before, lol

23:30 - yeah, this was the weird news story of the week at the time

24:18 - awww, both of them smiling at those memories

25:14 - oh no; I’m sure Phil felt bad at the time, but at least Louise is laughing about it now

25:59 - oh it must have been really bad

26:39 - Phil with the perfect memory of the gaming video...no clue about this. visual Phil though...he remembers the picture!

26:47 - this google search history is hilarious 😂 the picture Phil wanted here but couldn’t find was from Playlist Live! in 2014

27:16 - sometimes I think Phil makes it a little too weird for Louise. she doesn’t know how to react

27:54 - love any sort of bonus/behind-the-scenes content

28:05 - thumbnail posing is always a laugh to see 😂

28:13 - that did turn into the thumbnail!

29:35 - ooo, scandalous secrets apparently

I don’t think I’ve rewatched this since it was posted. (And I did listen to the Stereo show live as well.) This first show was pretty messy, because the app did not seem prepared for the number of people listening so Phil and/or Louise dropped off a few times. Phil did a good job making it flow together with the editing for the video version!

Dan was also popping out of his cave more (1, 2), which definitely fueled the speculation that he would be one of the Stereo guests.

[actualbird]

I got distracted reading 4-04 and 4-05 i totally forgot the actual thing i was supposed to ask you today, what are your thoughts on the kinds of shows the nxx team wouldve watched as kids growing up. MC and Luke have apparently watched animes and even dressed up as characters but i have this need to know the finer details. LIKE. WHAT DID YOU WATCH SPECIFICALLY?? And i remembered you said luke was the one who probably understood most of the terms zangr was saying so like?? Luke do you like these kinds of things?? -Marsh

MARSH, thank you so much for this ask and for the SPECIFIC WORDING "watched as kids growing up." because that makes me have to go back in time and thusly uncovering by far my favorite yet most under-utilized and never-brought-up detail of tears of themis:

the story of this game takes place in the year 2030

DO U HAVE ANY IDEA HOW FUNNIER THIS MAKES SHIT???? AND ALSO HOW MUCH MORE SENSE STUFF MAKES??? let me explain myself by going thru all the boys one by one

luke pearce

YEAH HE SAID HE AND MC WERE RLLY INTO ANIME AS KIDS. luke pearce who is 24 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2018-2021. this period of time, anime started getting more and more accessible, most notably getting on netflix and stuff like this. so like all the anime on netflix rn? yeah luke's watched them.

though because i kin luke, imma say that his fave is fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood. ive got no characterization proof for this, i just want to give him this honor

additionally, luke is a HUUUUGE fan of the original Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle novels (ACD Sherlock) and i think this would have pushed him to watch like, just every popular sherlock media adaptation there is. he personally liked Elementary better than BBC Sherlock. he generally just gravitates to the adaptations that dont forget about the heart of all of the characters.

also also also, luke likes action movies ranging from "hey this is "good" to critics" to "this is a shit movie but MY GOD IS IT FUN!!!"

artem wing

artem wing who is 29 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2013-2016. but also artem is a MOVIE SNOB LMAOOO, hes That Guy with the Opinions On Film and you bet that his analytical ass was into just the most extra shit to watch those days because no teenager is chill, every teenager has some kind of ego, i dont know what movies he would have watched at that point to be the Smartest Teenager About Movies, but he sure did watch them

though artem also is very into sci-fi literature and 2013-2016 had a BUUUNCH of huge sci-fi movies. Pacific Rim, Gravity, Interstellar, Arrival. Arrival is deffo artem's fave, dont fight me on this, i can explain further but not in this answer bc it will get LOOONG LOL

artem also is into "classics" which uh. wait artem what do you Mean by that, what is a "classic" for somebody born in 2001??? i dont really know exactly what he means by "classics" so i just take it to mean he's a slut for period dramas which leads me to my closing point

"Once upon a time, when [Artem] was younger, around 17 years old, he pondered identifying as asexual or as one of the subsets under that term, but he put that aside after he first watched Pride and Prejudice (2005). He had then acquired a recurring fantasy in which he would be sensually accosted by Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in a secluded study after months of furtive, charged glances, lingering, split second touches, double entendres classily and subtly masked but still implying a repressed yet voracious—Moving on." -an excerpt from my comedy smut fic where artem goes thru a crisis. yeah. yeah. Pride and Prejudice dir. Joe Wright was his bisexual awakening.

MOVING ON!!

vyn richter

vyn richter who is 27 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2015-2018 but honestly that doesnt help me AT ALL LOL BECAUSE VYN IS A TOUGH NUT TO CRACK.....

like honest to god i cant even imagine vyn as anything other than an adult KJBSJKFS (which is depressing, if i think about it more... but also what vyn would want, i assume he would hate for people to have known him as a child, imperfect and shunned.....which is ALSO DEPRESSING. VYN, U GOOD???)

okay yknow what im not studied enough in Vyn Richter Studies so i will come back to this once ive gotten more of his story and know more of his (what im theorizing to be a SHITASS TERRIBLE) childhood history. so vyn, i guess ur safe from me....ur safe FOR NOW, THAT IS....

marius von hagen

marius von hagen who is 21 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2021-2024. good fucking lord, marius was born in 2009 and that makes him so young that his Important Media Ages arent even DONE HAPPENING IN OUR CURRENT TIMELINE, JESUS....

2021 is an interesting era of entertainment because it is getting steadily more and more apparent that corporate greed is trying to swallow up good storytelling; movies and shows are made as fast food products to be consumed immediately and thrown away just as fast. there are smarter posts and articles talking about this, but my point here is that marius "believes SO MUCH in art and art's capability to make a difference" von hagen would HATE THIS SO MUCH and, through spite, get into a lot of indie medias that dont necessarily sell. smaller movies, tv shows that got cancelled way before they should have.

oh, hey, MARIUS WAS 12 YEARS OLD IN 2021, yeah he could have watched The Owl House and threw a fucking FIT when disne/y nerfed the show's third season. he has not forgiven and he has not forgotten.

regardless of his age, marius, at some point in his teens watches Vincent and the Doctor (s5 e10 from Doctor Who). for those who dont know this episode, it involves Vincent Van Gogh and a bunch of sci-fi stuff but, at the end, a scene where Van Gogh is taken to the future and shown the impact his art has made on people. please watch it, if you havent it, it's very good and no words can do the experience justice.

anyway yeah marius watches it and it makes him FUCKING SOB

yeah so these are my takes kdjbfdsjfs

[cyndavilachase]

I’m Looking Forward Now 💖Thank you and good bye

So, it’s been a little over a week since Steven Universe Future ended… 

I’ve been hesitant to write this, honestly, but I’m tired of holding myself back from properly expressing myself in fear of appearing overly invested in the media I consume, even in private. Writing helps me organize my thoughts and feelings, and I feel like these thoughts in particular may resonate with many, so I want to share them. I want to talk about what Steven Universe has done for me personally, both as an artist, and as a person.

I’ve been around since the day the first episode of the original series aired. I actually remember when Steven Universe was just a logo on Wikipedia’s “List of Upcoming Cartoon Network Shows” list, back when I was a freshman in high school. It piqued my interest, but when commercials finally dropped for it, I thought it was going to be bad because of the way marketing handled introducing Steven as a likeable character. There was still something about it that made me want to give it a chance though, so I went online and watched the pilot before the first episode's release. I was hooked immediately. I knew I was going to love it, and I did. I fell so absolutely in love with Steven as a character, and the world that he and the gems lived in. I became obsessed. I was always so excited for new episodes to come out. Little did I know what else it would do for me as I went through my adolescence alongside it.

As the show progressed, it was evident that what I wanted out of a western animated childrens’ cartoon was finally coming into fruition: this show was becoming serialized. There was continuity, there was plot, there was character development-- it was getting deep. It was pushing the groundwork that Adventure Time laid out even further (thank you, Adventure Time).  

I will give credit where credit is due: earlier western childrens’ cartoons I grew up with like Hey Arnold, and Rugrats, among others, also touched on heavy topics, but Steven Universe was able to take similar ideas (and even more complex ones, concerning mental health and relationships) and expand on them outside of contained episodes and/or short arcs. These themes, which were a part of the show’s overarching story, spanned across its entirety. Continuity was rampant. 

What did this mean? It meant kids cartoons didn’t have to be silly and fun all the time and characters weren’t just actors playing a part in 11-minute skits. Steven and the gems would remember things that happened to them, and it affected them and how they would function and play a part in their story. This was a huge deal to me as a teenager. I always wanted the cartoons I grew up with featuring kid characters to feel more. In my own work, I often felt discouraged when combining a fun, cutesy western art style with themes as dark or layered as anime would cover. I always thought it had to be one or the other because an audience wouldn’t take a combination of the two seriously enough, based on discussions I had with classmates, friends, and online analysis I read at the time. Steven Universe proved to me otherwise. This show was opening the door for future cartoons exploring in-depth, adult concepts. I felt so seen as a kid, and was inspired to stick with what I love doing.

I was actually very worried about the show’s survival. It was in fact immensely underrated and the fandom was miniscule. Then in 2014, JailBreak dropped, and it’s popularity exploded. Part of it was because of the complex plot and the themes it was covering like I mentioned, but also because of its representation. 

I remember when fandom theorized that Garnet was a fusion due to grand, tragic reasons. Turns out, she’s simply a metaphor for a very loving w|w relationship. This was huge. I cannot stress how important it is that we continue to normalize healthy canon queer relationships in childens’ media, and Steven Universe finally was the first to do that proper. Introducing these themes offers the chance for a kid to sit there and ask themselves, “Why is this demonized by so many people?” I asked myself exactly that. Ruby and Sapphire were my cartoon LGBT rep. They were the first LGBT couple I ever ecstatically drew fanart of. I was dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia at the time, and they showed me that I was allowed to love women and feel normal about it. The process of overcoming this was a long one, but they played a part in my very first steps into becoming comfortable with my sexuality. I could go on and on about it’s representation in general-- how it breaks the mold when it comes to showcasing a diverse set of characters in design, in casting, and in breaking gender roles. It’s focus on love and empathy. Steven himself is a big boy, but he's the protagonist, and the show never once makes fun of his weight, or any other bigger characters for that matter. It wasn’t hard to see why the fandom had grown so large.

Fandom was always a joy for me. It was a hobby I picked up when I was in middle school, like many of us here did. I would always cater my experience to fun, and fun only. I only started getting more deeply involved in SU’s fandom when I had just turned into an adult. During the summer of 2016, between my first and second year of college, I drew for the show almost every day non-stop when the Summer of Steven event was going on and posted them online. This was a form of practice for me in order to become not just more comfortable with experimenting with my art, but also to meet new artists, make new friends, and learn to interact with strangers without fear. I dealt with a ton of anxiety when I was in high school. When I was a senior applying to art school for animation, I decided I was going to overcome that anxiety. I made plans to take baby steps to improve myself over the course of my 4 years of college. Joining the fandom, while unforeseen, was definitely a part of that process. I started feeling more confident in sharing my ideas, even if they were fan-made. I fell in love with storyboarding after that summer, when I took my first storyboarding class, and genuinely felt like I was actually getting somewhere with all of this. I remember finally coming to a point in my classes where I could pitch and not feel hopelessly insecure about it. I was opening up more to my friends and peers. 

But this process, unfortunately, came to a screeching halt. 

My life completely, utterly crumbled under me in the Fall of 2017 due to a series of blows in my personal life that happened in the span of just a couple weeks. My mental health and sense of identity were completely destroyed. All of that confidence I had worked for-- completely ruined. I was alone. I nearly died. My stay at college was extended to 4 and half years, instead of the 4 I had intended. I lost my love for animation-- making it, and watching it. I could no longer watch Steven Universe with the same love I had for it beforehand. It’s a terrible thing, trying to give your attention to something you don’t love anymore, and wanting so desperately to love again. I dropped so many things I loved in my life, including the fandom.

Healing was a long and complicated road. I continued to watch the show all the way up until Change Your Mind aired in the beginning of 2019, and while I still felt empty, that was definitely a turning point for me with it’s encapsulation of self-love. I was hoping James Baxter would get to work on Steven Universe since he guest-animated on Adventure Time, and it was incredible seeing that wish actually come true. The movie came out and while I enjoyed it and thought highly of it, I was still having issues letting myself genuinely love things again, old and new. It was especially difficult because cartoons were my solace as a kid, when things got rough at home. I remember feeling sad because the show ended, and not getting the chance to love it again like I used to while it was still going.

By the time Steven Universe Future was announced, I was finally coming around. I was genuinely starting to feel excitement for art and animation again. I wasn’t expecting there to be a whole new epilogue series, but happily ever after, there we were! Prickly Pear aired, and the implications it left in terms of where the story was going did it. I was finally ready to let myself take the dive back into fandom in January of this year. My art blew up, something I wasn’t expecting considering my 2-year hiatus. Following this, I was invited into a discord server containing some of the biggest writers, artists, editors, and analysts in the fandom. I had no idea there were so many talented people in the fandom, some already with degrees, some getting their degrees-- creating stuff for it on the side just for fun. The amount of passion and productivity level here is insane, and so is the amount of discussion that has come out of it.

I didn’t realize it at first, but it was actually helping me gain back the courage to share ideas. I lost my confidence in pitching while I was taking the time to heal, and graduating meant there would no longer be a classroom setting I could practice in. This group helped immensely. 

I have made so many friends through this wonderful series, and I have so many fond memories talking to like-minded creatives, getting feedback and a myriad of sources for inspiration, as well as all of the memes and jokes and weekly theorizations that came about as we all waited on the edges of our seats for episodes to air. I needed this so badly, I needed to get back in touch with my roots, when I would go absolutely hog-wild over a cartoon I loved with people who loved it as much I did. Future has been a blessing for me in this way. I graduated feeling like I was back at square-one, but now I feel like I’m on my way again.

It’s 2020 and while I’m doing great right now, I am honestly still recovering from the total exhaustion that followed after graduating a few months ago, and finally leaving the campus where my life fell apart behind. Needless to say, watching Future was like looking into a mirror. Watching one of my favorite characters of all time-- one that grew up with me-- go through so many of the same things I went through not too long ago was absolutely insane to watch unfold. It’s such an important thing too, to show a character go through the process of breaking down over trauma and all the nasty things that come with it, and to have them go on the road to healing. Steven got that therapy. He wasn’t blamed. The gems were called out. The finale was everything I could have ever hoped for. The catharsis I experienced watching it was out of this world.

As I continue my own healing journey, I will always look up to the storyboard artists, revisionists, and designers that I have been following over these past 7 years, as well as the new ones introduced in Future. It's been such a joy watching these artists release their promo art for episodes, talk about their experiences working on the show, and post the work they've done for it alongside episodes airing.

Thank you Rebecca Sugar, the Crewniverse, and the fans, for making this such a truly wonderful and unique experience. Thank you for reminding me that I am, and always will be, an artist, a cartoonist, and a fan. Thank you, my followers, for the overwhelmingly positive response to my artwork. I have had so much fun interacting and discussing the show with you all again over these past few months. Steven Universe and it’s fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and it will always be a classic that I will return to for comfort and inspiration for decades to come. I am sad that the cartoon renaissance is over, but so many doors have been opened thanks to this show. I am so, so excited to see what this show will inspire in the future, and I hope one day I get the opportunity to be a part of that. 

Goodbye Steven, thank you for everything. I wish you healing, and I wish Rebecca and the team a well-deserved rest. ♥️

-Cynthia D.

[jimhines]

2021 Writing Income

Welcome to my 14th annual blog post about writing income. I've been doing this partly to dispel the myth that writers are swimming in cash like Scrooge McDuck in his money bin, and partly as a data point to help newer writers get a slightly more realistic (I hope) idea what they might be in for.

Keep in mind that I'm just one data point, and no writer's career is exactly the same as any other's. But one datum is better than none, right?

Prior Years: Here are the annual write-ups going back to 2007: 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020.

In 2016, instead of a personal income write-up, I did a survey of almost 400 novelists about their income.

My Background: I’m a primarily “traditionally published,” U.S.-based SF/F author with 14 books in print from major New York publishers. The first of those books came out from DAW in 2006, and I've averaged more or less a book a year since then. (The past few years are an exception. I'll talk about that later.) I have an agent, and have been with them since about 2004.

I've self-published a middle grade fantasy and a few short collections. I’ve also sold about 50 short stories to different magazines and anthologies.

I’ve never hit the NYT or USA Today bestseller lists, but my last five books have been lead titles for my publisher.

I'm currently a solo parent of a teenager (at home) and a 21-year-old (away at college). I work a half-time day job, partly for the paycheck, but mostly for the benefits. I would love to say I write every single day, but sometimes life has other plans.

2021 in Summary: I'm going to focus on the writing here, because otherwise I'll spend the next 5000 words griping. I mean, come on -- we didn't even get Betty White celebrating her 100th birthday? F***ing 2021.

Okay, writing stuff. Right...

This was another slow year in terms of publication. Terminal Peace had been delayed already because of my family's medical crisis throughout 2019. I got the book turned in back in September of 2020, but thanks to COVID and some business issues my publisher was dealing with, it won't be published until August 2022. I think the only publication I had last year was a reprint of "Gift of the Kites" in Arcana.

I did, however, write a new middle grade novel my agent is shopping around, and I got about 90% of another book rewritten. That will hopefully be ready to go on submission within another month or two.

We also sold Russian rights to Tamora Carter: Goblin Queen, which was a lovely surprise.

So while I produced almost two books, 2021 was a year with no original Jim C. Hines publications, which is a bit frustrating and discouraging. It also makes the income numbers more interesting, at least to me.

2021 Income: The biggest check came from the Delivery/Acceptance payment for Terminal Peace. While I delivered that manuscript in September 2020, the payment didn't make its way through the system and get to me until 2021. I'm kind of glad, because otherwise this year's numbers would be a lot more depressing.

Royalties from my audio publishers and my U.S. publisher made up the next most significant chunk.

In total, before taxes, I brought in $24,243.50 in writing income. That's down more than $7000 from last year, which isn't terribly surprising. It's still better than I did in 2019, aka The Year From Hell.

Continued at https://www.jimchines.com/2022/01/2021-writing-income/

[teacup-tai]

Tai Recs: Drarry meets Church ~ a Religious/Belief/Faith list.

Some of you probably heard me talking on the Drarry Discord about my absolute LOVE for Priest / Father Harry, religious/faith themes and churches. So I decided to do a rec list on the topic! This one will be focused on Christianity (mainly Catholic) --I was raised in a Christian house of mixed faiths/religions, so they tend to catch my breath exactly because I feel like I can relate. This is NOT a master list, this is just a list of my favourite Christian Drarry fics that moved and comforted me. I hope you enjoy it :) 🌿

1) A Multitude of Sins by cryptonym (E, 40k+) HurtFest 2014

Peter 4:8 - Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. tw: attempted suicide

I think anyone who grew up in a Catholic church, surrounded by Priests and Deans and the parishioner life will relate to this fic. Father Harry is a devoted and caring priest, dealing with his own shadows, and always helping the church community. The way this fic was written and the whole plot of how they get entangled in a mix of feelings and sins is a work of art. This is my favourite church fic since I read it back in 2016. This fic keeps me company and brings me closer to so many old feelings. The life of being part of the Church is beautifully described and the questioning of religion and faith is a always there touch in Draco’s character. And the fall, my darlings, into love and rendition is the most beautiful gift cryptonym could have given our sinful souls. Also, It was written very respectfully and tastefully. A must read! 💜

2) By which we must be saved by @hogwartsfirebolt (G, 3k, 2020)

What happened was this: the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord was born as the seventh month died. Or: the one where Harry Potter knew his whole life that he was meant to be a savior, and Draco Malfoy joined him along the way.

Welcome to Messiah vibes. Honestly, I’m a true sucker for Messiahs, for the unconditional love and respect for human beings, for the power of forgiveness and faith. This fic made me miss my own faith and made me want to kneel and pray, for love, for goodness, for everything and everyone, because we are all loved and sacred. I probably enjoyed it so much because this is in what I actually believe: in compassion and true goodness of the heart. This is the vibe of this fic, and this Harry Potter is my forever Lord and Saviour. Such a blessing this fic 😭🙏

3) Series: Tidings of Comfort by @blamebrampton (G, 9.9k, 2002)

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. Luckily for Draco Malfoy, London has places where the tired can rest and recover.  

Comfort galore! If you want a Christmas vibe with churches, you are in the right place. Watching Draco find comfort in the hymns and ceremonies of the church made me feel cosy and comforted. Blamebrampton did a really wonderful job in transmitting the vibe of church and parishioner. Made me miss my old church days, the faces that start being familiar and the sounds and smells that transport us to feeling at home. Lovely! 🥰

4) No Absolutes  by @shealwaysreads (M, 402, 2019)

Draco understood worship. He understood unquestioning belief. He had grown within the walls of veneration and glorification of the past, of the few, of the pure. 

What I talk about when I talk about poetry. This fic was breathtakingly written. Bella has always this beautiful ways with words and here it makes faith and belief and Draco’s character study even more careful and deep; using Religious symbolism and imagery to work through Draco’s feelings in the post-war. It’s a gift with a very meaningful depth!  🙌✨

5) No sweeter Innocence by drarryandharry (G, 1.7k, 2019)

For Harry, church was the first place he truly felt at home. What happens when he realises it isn’t his home anymore? - Harry is gay and Christian, and then he has a breakdown.

Which of us, queer and Christian, didn’t have a breakdown or two? This fic was such a sweet way of describing a Christian Harry going through life and growing up and questioning himself. This fic took me back to my sixteens, when my parents didn’t approve my bisexuality, when incredulously I found myself feeling safer inside a Catholic church than at my own home. It took me back to when I decided God was, to me, above all, love and hope and acceptance and compassion. 🌈🙏

Bonus fic: Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k+, 2020)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Hear me out, Modern Love is NOT a religious fic. But there’s church, and Draco being involved in the parishioner community, and there’s this sexy gay Vicar, Rev. Andrew. And its one of my all times favourite fic. The bits and pieces about the church and charity life made me miss my teenage years in the church community. And the way Tacky portrayed the church members and the Reverend and Draco singing hymns just made my heart grow fond and warm and everyone should read this fic. That’s why it’s a bonus fic and a MUST READ! 🤓❤

I hope you all enjoyed this humble rec list. I’ve never done a rec list before, but as I’m a sucker for the trope, Drarry meets Church, I thought it was a nice thing to do. We were talking about having a fest maybe someday on spiritual/religious/faith themes and a nice way to spur the topic is reading the lovely fics we already have from our incredible drarry squad. I made sure to add not only my favourites and comforting ones, but the ones that are very respectful towards the beliefs of Christian faith. If you would like to read more religious fics, I bookmark them here. Always check the tags!

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. Love, Tai. 🙏

[gellavonhamster]

cold weapons

Suicide Squad (2016) || Captain Boomerang/Katana || post-canon

ao3 link eng || this was first written and published on ao3 in Russian in 2017 but I didn't attempt to translate it into English back then.  

“So, what do you think of them?” Colonel Flag asks.

Tatsu puts the folder containing the rap sheet of Waylon Jones, better known as Killer Croc, on top of three other folders.

“They’re complicated,” she replies after giving it some thought.

The materials in these folders could have formed her first impression about the members of Task Force X – or, as Lawton has aptly put it, the Suicide Squad. Could have, but did not, because they were given their first task earlier than expected. Which is why she doesn’t say “villains” or “scoundrels” or “worst team imaginable” – her first impression of them was formed in combat, and then in an empty bar in Midway City where they all drank together thinking it may be the last drink in their lives. She remembers all of this and says ‘complicated’.  

“Very tactful of you,” the colonel chuckles. Then again, what kind of colonel is he now – an unwashed shirt, black circles under the eyes. Just another guy struggling with a deluge of work, a hard-hearted boss, and a troubled relationship with his girlfriend. “But yeah, they definitely aren’t simple,” continues Rick Flag, one of her few friends in the country that will never become her home, and Tatsu cannot suppress a tired smile.  

“You like them.”

“They’re… tolerable,” Rick admits, and takes another sip of coffee. Lately he seems to be living only on coffee and whiskey and the verb “must” and (so Tatsu supposes, although they don’t talk about that) the hope that June Moone, who still hasn’t fully recovered from all the horrors she’s been through, will be all right – and will stop isolating herself and avoiding him. These means for not letting yourself just fall down and never get up are far from being reliable, but Tatsu herself lives mostly on revenge and duty and, for that matter, whiskey as well, to a certain degree, so it’s not for her to judge. “Most of them, at least. All of them minus the Australian.”

“At least he’s a good fighter,” Tatsu points out. This is the only good thing she can say about Captain Boomerang with full confidence.  

“He’s not cut out for teamwork.”

“When we were fighting the Enchantress, it didn’t look to me like that.”

She does not put much meaning into these words. It’s just that at some point Captain Boomerang saved her, and she saved him – and good thing they’re even, because the last thing she needs is to owe a favour to someone so incompatible with the very concept of duty. She could have said much about the man who tried to escape at the very beginning of the mission and got a teammate killed (and for some reason stood up for El Diablo when Harley Quinn lashed out at him at the bar, and for some reason came back before the battle after trying to desert), but the only thing she’s sure of is that he’s a fine weapon; she can confirm that, being a weapon herself. At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from him.      

At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from her, too.

 ***

 It is possible that what she said about Digger Harkness sticks in Rick’s memory, because when the need to comb the area arises during the next mission, he sends the two of them to search through the same building.

“If he gets up to something, do whatever you want to him. No one’s gonna weep for him,” he flings off. This is in the heat of the moment, of course – Boomerang almost got into a fight with Killer Croc on the helicopter over some nonsense. Or rather, it was Croc that almost got into a fight with Boomerang after the latter provoked him. Complicated.  

“You heard that, darl?” Boomerang addresses her with a smile so wide as if he hasn’t heard the last remark. “I’m all yours.”

Tatsu looks the other way and pointedly takes her sword out of its sheath – not completely, just a little. No further comments follow, and they part company – Deadshot with Croc, Flag with his team of spec ops, Tatsu with Boomerang – and go on a recce.  

In the basement, they discover something that looks like a laboratory – if a place so far from being sanitary may even be called one. All their hopes to move without making a sound crumble as soon as they enter the room: the floor is covered with broken glass. Those who ran the place must have escaped in haste and couldn’t take the entire stock of the serum with them, so they opted to destroy most of it. Tatsu’s attention is immediately drawn to the object on the table in the middle of the room – a metal container with tubes going from it to several smaller vessels. She heads straight for the table, shards crunching underfoot. Boomerang follows her, apparently kicking the largest shards on purpose so that they fly in all directions.      

“Looks like a hooch still,” he comments, having come closer, and gives a whistle. “Whoa, fuck, is that blood?”

Compared to the first task of their squad, this one looks almost effortless. Two gangs, the members of one of which possess the formula of the serum that grants superpowers to those who take it. A gun battle, collateral damage, the entire district on lockdown. If a few people weren’t noticed literally floating through the sky, the police would have been handling this. But this is an emergency, which is why they’re here, and the flying gangsters aren’t flying anymore, for Lawton is an exceptionally good shot.    

As it turns out, the serum that sparked the conflict is based on metahuman blood – hardly donated voluntarily.

“I’ll contact Colonel Flag,” says Tatsu, eyes locked on the bloodied tubes, and then someone grabs her by the neck.

For the first time in her life, she really has to fight blindly – because her enemy is invisible.  

Later, when the dead bodies gradually become visible on the floor like an eerie animated movie, it turns out there were four of them. Before that, Tatsu manages to lose her sword, recapture it, almost choke when an invisible hand squeezes her neck, slash one of the attackers in half, and plunge the blade into another’s stomach. Boomerang takes care of the other two, knocking over the container in the process.    

Tatsu is listening to the silence that came after the fight, wondering if any other invisible foes are lurking around the corner, when she feels that something is wrong. Something is wrong with her – she just can't figure out what. Sometimes it happens that one feels unwell but cannot determine what exactly the problem is – she is experiencing something similar now. Until she realizes: the mask. Until she looks up and makes eye contact with Captain Boomerang, who is staring at her and grinning.  

“You lost anything, doll?” Harkness inquires innocently, with an emphasis on the last word, and his smile grows even wider and cockier.  

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. The invisible man she fought hand to hand tore off her mask, and she didn’t even notice. But her partner, blast him, did – and picked it up.  

“Give it back,” Tatsu demands, hand outstretched. She feels naked. In combat, during the mission, she is Katana, a single whole with her sword. A cold weapon. No one needs to see her face. Truly, if she was wearing only the mask and nothing else, she would have felt less exposed – all right, this is an overstatement, and she doesn’t even want to imagine such a situation. Meanwhile, Boomerang is in no hurry to return the mask.      

“What did ya call me when that fucker was about to stab me?” he asks. Tatsu clenches the sword hilt. There is no telling how many enemies drunk on the magic serum are hiding in this house, and he’s dawdling. “You said…”

Damn it, what did she say? She saw one of the invisibles creeping up on him while he was fighting another – a bloodstain was floating through the air. She shouted…

“I said ‘George’”. Isn’t your name George Harkness?”

“You bet it is. It’s just weird. Most people don’t call me George, y’know.”  

“How do they call you then?”

“Digger. Boomerang. Boomer. That Prick. All sorts of things, but never George. But you,” he winks, “can call me whatever ya want. I liked the way you say my name.”

“Give. Me. The mask.”

“And the magic word?”

“I will chop your hand off,” as a proof of her intentions, she puts the blade against his extended hand that is holding her mask. In fact, she would face no consequences for doing so. No one’s gonna weep for him.      

Harkness makes a helpless gesture and hands her the mask.

“Can’t say no to you, luv.”

The mask helps her conceal her identity, but what is more important is that it helps her conceal needless emotions. Tatsu really hopes that her facial expression isn’t giving away that she’s ill at ease now. This is a weakness; weaknesses are not to be demonstrated. She feels deeply relieved when she puts the mask back on.  

“Let’s get out of here,” she commands, turns around, and heads for the exit. Harkness trails behind.

“It ain’t fair, by the way. You know my real name, but I don’t know yours,” he muses. “Care to introduce yourself, eh?”  

He asks the same question at least three times more before they return to Belle Reve, and each time she ignores him.

 ***

 A week later, he still doesn’t know her name – but he learns something else.

They do away with the last members of the recent gang on the outskirts of the city. Both wretches have overused the unfortunate serum, in keeping with the best traditions of the clichéd movies about superheroes and supervillains that Hollywood keeps producing for some reason, even though it is more and more often possible to see nearly the same thing on the news. As a result, one of them got puffed up almost to the size of the creature that Superman died fighting, and the other couldn’t control the flames bursting from his mouth. He burned half of the shopping centre with customers, retail workers, and guards. With teenagers in the bowling alley on the second floor and children in the playroom on the first.    

Santana… wouldn’t have approved.

Both problems eliminated, they leave: the firefighters and the cops will take it from here. Flag’s spec ops stay behind, because officially it is their victory; the general public shouldn’t know about the existence of Task Force X. Through backyards, they retreat in the direction of the abandoned construction site on the other side of the street; a car has been sent to pick them up there.  

There is a workers’ trailer still standing by the construction pit. The door is not locked, and Rick, Deadshot, Croc, and Boomerang go inside. Jones’s arm is broken: his inhuman strength notwithstanding, he still was no match for his enemy – not the fire-breather, but the other one. Tatsu leaves them to figure out how to make a temporary sling, and wanders away. Not far from the trailer, a piece of tarpaulin stretched over the fence has come off, and she can see the building across the street. Tatsu sits down on the ground, puts her arms around her knees, and stares at the dandelions growing by the fence.  

In her head, flames are raging.

She doesn’t look up, neither when she hears the footsteps approaching, nor when Harkness – and it is him, no one else in the Squad reeks of the mixture of booze and cologne like that – sits down next to her and cracks open a can of beer.  

“You want some?” he nudges her. What extraordinary generosity. It is, however, perfectly possible that if she says yes, he’ll reply along the lines of “Well, then go and buy yourself some.”  

“No,” Tatsu replies without looking and, after a short pause, adds, “Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

With a sigh, she accepts the can from his hands, and takes a sip.

“This is disgusting,” she whispers, and takes another.  

Harkness just snorts and opens another one. For a little while, they sit side by side in silence, drinking each from their own can, and study the wall opposite through the mesh of the fence – like out of a prison window. Old advertisements that are half torn off, graffiti, a writing proclaiming that life fucks us all – plenty of things to stare at to avoid looking the person next to you in the eye.  

“So what the hell happened to ya?” Boomerang asks, and suddenly she could do with some serum for invisibility or, better yet, disappearing completely. Naturally, it is a fleeting impulse; she has no right to disappear. She has obligations – towards Flag, towards Waller. Towards herself.    

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? You zoned out, Flag shouted himself hoarse before you heard him. Like you were someplace else. Didn’t ya?”  

Why do you need to know? Tatsu thinks. If she almost rushed headlong into the fire, it’s her own business. If it only seemed to her that someone was there, it’s her own business. If she’s going to see things that aren’t there for the rest of her life, it’s her own business. He shouldn't have spoken. There is something comforting about being silent together.    

“Nah, you don’t have to say if you don’t wanna,” Boomerang assents, and takes another pull on his can. “I just thought that you, well. Might wanna talk to someone.”  

And they fall silent again. Yet now Tatsu feels awkward, which makes her angry at herself. She’s not obliged to pour out her heart to anyone who shows something that looks like care.    

This silence doesn’t make it any easier.

“I have… bad memories,” she finally says. Now it won’t be as awkward: she answered his question. It won’t be, right? “About a fire”.

Harkness nods, looking at her attentively.

“Someone you knew died, aye?”

“My children,” she hears herself say, and wishes to disappear again.

“Fuck,” Boomerang says, embarrassed, and – unbelievable – looks like he actually feels bad about starting this conversation. “I’m sorry, I… well, uh, I had no idea.”  

“It’s okay,” Tatsu says mechanically. Nothing is okay: she can still see Yuki’s tear-stained face, still hear Reiko’s voice, she is still watching the flames run up the curtains that she and Maseo picked together, she is still breathing in the smoke and still cannot believe she deserves a gulp of fresh air. She should have saved them. All of them.  

Boomerang looks at her incredulously but doesn’t say anything, and bit by bit, the silence that she doesn’t want to run from returns – the kind of silence in which one is not alone.    

Then there are footsteps again, and Flag approaches them.

“There you are,” he says with relief as soon as he sees her. Rick does not let himself overstep the limits of formality – they’re on a mission, after all – but he has obviously been worried. At the sight of Harkness, he frowns warily. “You! Quit getting on her nerves.”

“Who’s gettin’ on her nerves, Colonel? I was just tryin’ to help,” Harkness protests. It appears Rick’s words have wounded him a little.  

“He was,” Tatsu says. “It’s all under control, Colonel Flag.”  

Flag shifts his gaze to her and then to Boomerang again, and nods.

“Okay. In any case… follow me. We’re leaving.”

Tatsu gives her unfinished beer to Boomerang.

“Don’t talk about this to anyone,” she tells him. This might be an order or a request; she doesn’t really know.

He nods, and she thinks absentmindedly: who would have thought this man knows how to make a solemn face.

“Thank you,” she says again, hoping that he understands that this is not just about the beer or his promise to keep his mouth shut.

***

 After a few days, Tatsu comes to visit him. In prison.

Actually, she comes to visit all of them, of course. Not more than fifteen minutes alone with each of them – Waller wouldn’t allow more. This request seems to have surprised her, but Tatsu is certain that Waller is already picturing the new threads she can use to manipulate her special operations puppets. So it is possible that one day this decision will blow up in Tatsu’s face – or in the faces of all of them. But she cannot shake off the feeling that she must do this – so that someone except Rick, who is already dealing with a lot these days, would notice in time if the inmates are treated with undeserved cruelty. So that she knows what’s on their minds, because it is safer to fight side by side with the people whose line of thought she can understand at least roughly. So that there is some kind of variety in their lives between the missions.  

This is why she visits all three of them. Killer Croc, who looks like he’s not surprised to see her in the slightest and doesn’t really seems to care that she came, but doesn’t have any issue with that either. Deadshot, who looks like he is surprised, but doesn’t seem to mind answering her questions when she notices a stack of letters in the corner and asks him how his daughter is doing. And Captain Boomerang, who, when she enters his cell, looks like he can’t figure out if he’s dreaming.

“Katana?” he frowns perplexedly. He’s stripped to his waist, so she can see a couple of fresh scars he brought back from the last mission, and he’s got a black eye – when Tatsu saw him last, he had not. Must have quarrelled with the guards again. “What are you doing here?”  

“I came to see you.”

For a moment he seems not to understand what she just said. Then he breaks into a smile – or rather a grin, wide and pleased. Very pleased.  

“Aha! Knew it would end up like this,” he pronounces in triumph.

“Like this?”

“You,” he looks like he’s just proven a theorem of immense complexity, “missed me.”  

“I haven’t missed you, Captain.”

A very, very pleased grin.

“And still you’re here.”

“I visited Deadshot and Killer Croc earlier,” Tatsu says, and sees his facial expression change instantly. Not for long: the grin is quick to return, and she wouldn’t be able to tell right away that he’s disappointed.    

“Did ya now? And how are our fellas doing? Better than me, I reckon?”

“So it would seem. Did you fight the guards?”

“Why do you care, gorgeous?”

Indeed, why does she? Most likely, he picked a fight himself – and got his just deserts.  

“Make up your mind,” Tatsu says, “if you think that I missed you or that I don’t care.”

Harkness chuckles and really seems to ponder over this for a while.

“Beats me,” he concludes at last. “Care to throw some light on it?”  

No, Tatsu thinks, I don’t get it myself and I’m not sure I want to.

Instead of answering, she comes closer to him – so close that she can smell his sweat – and studies his face. She has to look up to be able to do that, which must look comical. Then again, he’s hardly stupid enough to laugh at her height or anything else about her, especially when she’s armed and he is not.  

“You lost a tooth. What happened?”

“Didn’t get along with one of the Wall’s watchdogs.”

“You could have tried not to look for trouble for a change,” all of a sudden, Tatsu realizes that she’s mad. Really mad at him. They might get dragged to another mission this instant; whether they like it or not, they have to be in good enough shape to protect the society that the most of them have to atone before at least partially. They shouldn’t spend their energy and health on nonsense. Black eyes and knocked-out teeth are nothing, but it mustn’t come to any of them being out of action when all of them are needed. All their powers, all their skills. All the anger they should rather aim at something other than the people who can just press a certain button at any point – and dispose of the wilful weapon.

Boomerang bares his teeth – not like Croc, of course, but still threateningly. He looks dangerous now – big, sturdy, more than a head taller than her. But he still isn’t more dangerous than her – and both of them are aware of that.  

“And they could have tried,” he speaks through his teeth, “not to talk shit about my mother for a change. They wanna talk shit about me, they can knock themselves out. I’ve heard enough ‘bout myself, I don’t give a flying fuck about what else they gonna say. But they’d better leave my mother out of it.”

So that’s what it is. They have found a quick and easy way to infuriate the man who has “MUM” tattooed on his chest. In uneven letters, like a child's handwriting. Tatsu noticed that tattoo as soon as she came in but didn’t look too closely at it. Now she feels like she has the right to look, to let her gaze slip lower, at the ridiculous writing that heaves with each furious breath of his, and then to avert her eyes at once.    

“They have power, and you have nothing,” she says. “Do you enjoy being their plaything?”

“Oh, so I’m a plaything, darl? And do I have much choice who to be now? In these four walls, and,” Boomerang points at his neck, at the place where a bomb is implanted under his skin, “with this crap in my neck?”  

Tatsu looks up again, right him in the eye.

“You already know who you are,” she tells him. “You’re a weapon. Broken weapons get discarded. And you’re letting them break you.”  

He stays silent, just looks at her in an odd manner, as if she’s speaking another language but he has a vague understanding of what she’s saying and doesn’t like what he just heard – because it is the truth.

Tatsu still doesn’t understand why she cares, and with each passing minute she has less and less desire to learn why.  

“Also,” she continues, “if you call me ‘darl’ or ‘gorgeous’ one more time, you’re going to regret opening your mouth.”

“Yeah? And how should I call ya?”

“Katana.”

“What, and that’s all? Nah, we might be weapons,” and she probably ought to remind him that there is no ‘we’, but in this particular case he’s right. Perhaps that is why Tatsu feels drawn to all of them: they’re cut from the same cloth, “but we’re alive as well. So far. Seriously, what’s yer real name? You know mine.”  

“I should not disclose that.”  

“Oh, come on. Listen,” he breaks into a pleased grin again. Another theorem proven. “How about a deal? You tell me yer name, and I will try to keep my temper if anyone else decides to stir me up. What do ya think?”    

“As if you’re going to keep your word.”

Boomerang makes a show of putting his hand over his heart.

“For you, ma’am… anything.”

For you. All at once, she recalls Rick’s words: do whatever you want to him. How many minutes of the visit she has already spent on this predictably fruitless conversation?    

“My name is Tatsu Yamashiro,” she says, tired, and then he smiles – not the way he did before, but in a calmer and more sincere manner. Gratefully.

“George Harkness,” he offers her his hand with an earnest air. “Nice to meet ya.”  

Tatsu hesitantly offers him hers. Her hand looks very small and fragile against his huge paw, and he must be thinking the same because the handshake comes out very careful. He could easily break her wrist. She could easily kill him with one hand afterwards. But he holds her hand gently in his warm, pleasantly calloused palm, and Tatsu hastens to take her hand away, because this is a mistake of an even worse kind than the time he saw her without the mask.  

“So you promise not to fights the guards.”

“I promise to try,” Harkness assures, but he’s keeping one hand behind his back.

“Don’t cross your fingers,” Tatsu says sternly. Real mature.

With a sigh, Boomerang repeats his promise, this time holding his hands within her view.

“But I ain’t promisin’ not to call you gorgeous,” he declares in the end.

“You know my name now.”

“But you’re still gorgeous.”

“Time’s up!” shouts the guard outside the door, and Tatsu cannot help feeling relieved that she has to go. She doesn’t regret visiting him, but all of this is too strange and awkward, and both of them might be weapons, but her position is different from his, and it is better not to forget that.    

“Can I do anything for you?” she asks him on parting.  

“Well,” Boomerang smirks. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“With something I would actually agree to do?”

“Come again. Will ya?” This time he isn’t flirting; this time she can feel his insecurity, even shyness. As if he doesn’t like to admit to himself that what she answers is really important to him.  

“I’ll try,” she says cautiously. She’s not going to make any promises: she asked Waller about one time only. She doubts if she’ll be allowed to visit them again – to visit him again.  

“Try,” Harkness repeats, as if weighing the word on his tongue. “This means no.”

“This means I’ll try,” Tatsu says firmly.

And she comes again in a week. And the week after next. And a week after that.  

 ***

 “Why didn’t you walk away in Midway City?” Tatsu asks him once. “When Rick broke the control panel. You left then; why did you return?”  

A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since the time Captain Boomerang dared to smart off Amanda Waller. Several successful missions, slightly more respectful attitude on his part – and his cell already bears a passing resemblance to a place for living, even if for living quite miserably. Now there is even a table, and a chair that she gets to sit on as guest privilege. Harkness is sitting on the floor opposite her. The question seems to catch him unawares, but only for a moment.    

“Huh? Why did I return? Gotta live up to my name, that’s why. Have you ever thrown a boomerang, luv?”

I’m going to throw you somewhere one day, Tatsu thinks, yet without much irritation.

“And jokes aside?”

Boomerang attempts to feign an offended sigh.

“How do ya think? Plenty of options, all right. You gonna try to guess which one?”

Tatsu frowns.

“Is this a psychoanalysis session? Were you bitten by Harley Quinn?”

“Nah, Blondie didn’t bite me, I would’ve remembered. So don’t be jealous,” his voice gets playful again, and Tatsu stifles the urge to roll her eyes. “Lookie here… suppose I suddenly realized that I can’t leave you guys! ‘Cause you’re my mates. One for all, and so on. Don’t believe me?”

“You said something about plenty of options. What are the rest of them?”

He scratches his chin thoughtfully.

“We-e-ell… the second, ‘course, is that I wanted to save the world. Not that the world smiles upon me every bloody day, but I still wanna live! And for everyone an’ their mother to know that the bastards like us can also be heroes. Don’t you like being one of the good guys, eh, Tatsu?”

“I’m not ‘one of the good guys’”, Tatsu protests. “And it’s not me that we’re talking about. Any other options?”

“There was no point in leaving. That was still gonna be the end of the world, aye? So I’d rather meet it in battle and in good company than on the run. All the same it’ll be the end. There you go.”  

He stops talking, and in the silence that falls Tatsu can hear the footsteps of the guards in the corridor. Once again she wonders what the duty attendants that monitor everything through the surveillance cameras think of their conversations. They must make for the strangest and most pointless reality show ever.  

“The third one,” she says.

Boomerang looks a bit disappointed.

“Why?”

“Not the first one, because none of us meant anything to you then. You had just met us. And it didn’t seem like you were upset about letting Slipknot down,” Tatsu explains. She doesn’t intend to offend him – she’s just saying the truth. Once, he claimed it himself that they understand each other – here’s some understanding, he’s welcome. “Not the second one either, because you’re not stupid – no, stop smiling. You never believed that if people like us stop the Enchantress, someone would learn about that. Only the third option remains.”  

Harkness nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and his eyes turn pensive, abstracted, as if he is there again, in the night city frozen in anticipation of the apocalypse. As if he sees himself – and makes a choice once again. “And that’s what happened in the end, didn’t it?”

“So the third option, then?”

“So it is.”

But something in his face makes Tatsu think that he was hoping for a different answer.

***

 Time flies; weeks and months go by. Tatsu spends them fighting, spilling someone else’s blood, occasionally drinking with Flag at a bar or in his apartment – a bachelor’s home again; reading books – most of the plots seem too naïve and unimaginative compared to what goes on in her life, and that is even for the best, and visiting the members of the Suicide Squad in Belle Reve. Some people go clubbing Friday evenings, and she goes to prison Friday afternoons.  

“Don’t get attached to them,” Rick scolds her.

“That is rich coming from you,” Tatsu replies, and he has enough self-awareness not to argue. Lest he gets offended, she chooses not to tell him that sometimes she and Lawton talk a little about him good-naturedly behind his back.

During one of her visits, Harkness raises a topic she has totally forgotten about.

“Hey, come to think of it, we never had that drink,” he points out. Tatsu doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, and it must be written all over her face, because he continues. “Remember I asked you out for a drink? In Midway City, before we fought the witch.”  

Tatsu has to make an effort to remember: indeed, he said something of the sort, but it never occurred to her to take those words seriously.

“We had a drink,” she counters. “When… when you shared your beer with me.”  

He shakes his head, dissatisfied.

“At the construction site? That’s bollocks. I’m talking a proper bar… nah, a restaurant! With crystal glasses an’ candles an’ shit… Like normal people.”  

“Candles,” Tatsu mumbles. She tries to imagine the two of them at the table at a restaurant; the picture turns out pretty absurd. On the other hand, a lot of what has happened in her life during the past few years can be deemed absurd.

“Yeah. Candles,” echoes Harkness, and continues with a crooked smile, “well, that’s me jokin’ around. In the near future,” he gestures in the direction of the small barred window of his cell, “I won’t be able to take you even to a fucking McDonald’s.”  

They don’t talk about the hypothetical dinners at a restaurant anymore, but the absurd picture stays with Tatsu, who still feels somehow indebted to Boomerang – for no reason, as she keeps telling herself – for that conversation at the construction site. She doesn’t like to feel the weight of unpaid debts on her shoulders – yes, that’s what it is about.

One day, she finds a way to pay that debt back.

 ***

 She waits for him in the car outside the prison gate. She hears him first; she cannot make out what exactly he is yelling at the guards, but that surely isn’t ‘good evening’. Then the door of the jeep is open, and someone must have kicked him in the rear because he literally falls into the car. Tatsu shrinks back on instinct.  

Then Harkness looks up – and notices her.

“Katana?.. Hey, what the hell’s going on? They didn’t let me take the boomerangs, didn’t let me take anything…”

“Close the door,” Tatsu tells him, and when he, still confused, obeys, tells the driver, “Let’s go.”

The car pulls away.

“I still don’t get what’s happening,” Harkness reminds her. “Sure, I’m happy to see ya, but… you weren’t ordered to take me to the woods and finish me off under the radar, huh?”  

“If Waller wanted to get rid of you, she would have had you killed in your own cell, and that’s all.”

“Wow, thanks for honesty. So where are we going?”

“To a restaurant,” Tatsu says, and turns away. Yet again it crosses her mind that it is a terrible idea.

“A restaurant?” Harkness drawls quizzically.

“As far as I recall, you said that the beer at the construction site is ‘bollocks’.”  

She should turn back to him, of course. The problem is that Tatsu is ninety-nine per cent sure that if she meets his eye now, she will blush. And she is by no means going to give him any sign that might be interpreted as taking an interest… of a certain kind. She has already blundered more than a few times.  

Therefore she stubbornly keeps looking out of the window. Then again, she doesn’t even need to look to picture how his facial expression is changing now; she’s seen this rakish grin enough times.  

“Holy cow. Tatsu, are you serious? We’re really just going to a restaurant? We’re getting outta this shithole where they only give us porridge with rat crap to gorge ourselves on lobsters and drink wine? Oh, fuck me sideways,” in the end, she turns to him and sees him throw back his head and burst into laughter, narrowing his eyes happily. “I’ll be damned! Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Pinch me.”    

“I can assure you you’re not,” Tatsu says, and realizes that she is also starting to smile despite herself. She has visited him and the others in Belle Reve often enough to know that porridge with rat crap, unfortunately, is far from being just a figure of speech. After such a diet, a meal at a restaurant must seem like the pinnacle of happiness.    

Boomerang shakes his head, apparently still unable to believe her.

“Holy fucking shit. How did you do that? How do you even do all that? I’ve told ya you’re unreal, have I?”

“Yes, you have,” Tatsu confirms patiently. And more than once – too often for her to attach great importance to it, too fervently for it not to please her at all. “Let’s put it that way: this is Waller paying me for a… favour.”  

“A favour, then. I take it a lot of some poor suckers died?”

“No,” she shakes her head. And it is true – but there still was a lot of blood. Both the man Waller indicated and his bodyguards turned out to be worthy adversaries. The whole thing went not as smoothly as she wanted it to – not that she wanted to; not that she would kill another person she knows nothing about if she could help it. Nothing to assure her: this one deserves it. Everything turned out rather… nasty. She had to burn the bodies. Then she got home in a haze, tended to a couple of fresh wounds – or rather, just scratches. And then she went to the bathroom and spent a long time soaping herself, as if the invisible filth that bothered her the most could be washed off with shower gel.    

Afterwards, she rummaged through her modest wardrobe and dug out the only dress she has about in America. Nothing special: wine red, below the knee length, sleeveless but with a pretty high neckline – very demure. The first and so far the last dress she bought after… after. If she and Rick didn’t have to accompany Amanda Waller to some event once, she wouldn’t have bought this one either. She put it on, combed her hair, still wet after the shower, with her fingers, looked at herself in the mirror – and flew into a rage, pulled off the dress, and could barely stop herself from tearing it to shreds. Restaurant or not, what does it matter? The last thing she needs is for him to think she dressed up for him.      

So the situation might be a little less absurd than it could have been. Both of them look like they’re going on another mission with the others, only she isn’t wearing her mask – he has already seen her face anyway – and he isn’t wearing his ever-present coat. It is no wonder he wasn’t allowed to take it – Waller wasn’t going to let him out of Belle Reve armed, and to let him wear his coat would probably be as unwise as to hand him all his boomerangs. Tatsu has no doubt that everyone and their dog have already searched through the personal belongings of the Squad, but she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that somewhere in his inside pockets Harkness has as many boomerangs as he is listed as having officially. She witnessed this man produce from his bosom at least four different lighters, a massive stack of dollars, a pocket knife, small binoculars, flat-nose pliers, and a toy unicorn. She has to admit: sometimes she doesn’t understand how he even does all that either.    

It appears that the thoughts of Captain Boomerang also turn to the contents of his pockets.

“Hey, how the hell are we affording this, though? Make no mistake, I’d stand treat, but my stash is in the coat, and these assholes didn’t let me take it, y’know.”    

“Don’t worry about that. Waller is paying for everything,” she explains, unable to suppress a grin, because this part, possibly the most unbelievable part of the entire affair, gives her a sort of silly, spiteful joy. Task Force X is a comparatively recent project, but they’ve already cleaned up so much mess for Amanda Waller that Heracles and his labours don’t even come close. A dinner at a restaurant is the least thing she could offer them. So when Boomerang explodes with laughter and gives her a conspiratorial wink, she looks him right in the eye and smiles. Another mistake. Then again, this is not the first time they share a secret.

He puts his hand on her knee, and she shakes it off immediately; this is way too far.

“I see you took your sword with ya,” Harkness observes, not giving any sign that something didn’t go the way he wanted.

“I am to keep an eye on you.”

“Yeah. How about…” he leans in closer, and the smell of cologne blasts up Tatsu’s nose. She can only hope it is due to external use only, “we chop off his head,” he nods at the driver, “and drive the fuck away from this? Huh?”    

The driver, who can definitely hear everything, doesn’t turn, but Tatsu notices him tense up.

“You’re kidding,” she says dryly. He may be, or he may be not – with Digger Harkness, one cannot always tell.

“Why kidding, doll? Zip, and done. There’s no way you enjoy working for Waller.”  

“I do not. But if you pull some stunt,” Tatsu feels for the sword hilt, and Boomerang sees that – very well, it is good for him to see that, “I will chop your head off. I really hope it won’t come to that.”  

“And what’s it to you? Scared of me? But I’m unarmed,” he claps himself on the chest demonstratively, implying that he has no weapons on him. “Why do you care if it does?”  

“I just wouldn’t like to do that,” she says firmly, and it’s true. It works well; he doesn’t even mention running away for the remainder of the day.

 This might be the strangest evening in her life.

Waller’s man drives them to a French restaurant whose name she cannot read but is almost sure that the phrase was chosen solely because it sounds impressive. They are let in through the back door, so no one among the other guests, who are sporting evening dresses and suits, pays any attention to her crop top and sword or to his… appearance in general. Their table is one of those located in alcoves, away from prying eyes, but Tatsu feels they are being watched. Which means Waller doesn’t trust her too much – well, she can understand that. She is part of a special team composed of deranged madmen, and she must admit she likes these deranged madmen more than she likes certain normal people known to her. Of course, she is Flag’s right-hand woman, but it is most likely that Waller doesn’t trust Flag either. It is doubtful whether there are any people in this world that she trusts at all.          

Waller is rich. Their little feast will not shatter her wealth, all the more so since the restaurant she sent them to is not the most luxurious. But they still have a field day ordering loads of food and a bottle of the most expensive wine on the menu.    

“To honour among thieves?” she suggests, when they raise their glasses for the first time.

“Didn’t ya say yer not a thief?”

“That is true,” she admits, and adds inwardly, I’m a killer.  

In the end, they drink to the Suicide Squad. Then to Lawton and Jones, currently languishing in their cells. Then to Zoe Lawton, who is acting in a school play next week. To a lot of things. He asks her about her life here, in America. At some point she finds herself trying to explain to him what taiyaki is, and him telling her about banana sandwiches, and she can’t remember why they started talking about this at all. The bottle becomes empty, and another appears as if by itself.      

They don’t talk about the past. They don’t talk about the future, because there might be no future at all – they can’t know for sure, what with their way of life. That evening, Tatsu laughs and thinks: good thing I’m drunk – it almost gets easier for a while.  

When it’s time to leave, Harkness gets pig-headed.

“Whoa, no, no, no. Already? It’s too early, are you kiddin’ me?” he booms out when they exit the restaurant. He protests, but she drags him by the hand and he stumbles along after all, treading heavily like a dancing bear. “Let’s go someplace else, luv. Look at the pretty stars.”  

“We are already late. And you… you have to go back to jail,” Tatsu tells him. The stars are pretty indeed, but she regrets looking up at them, because her head begins to spin. Thankfully, she isn’t wearing high heels. Thankfully, she doesn’t have any high-heeled shoes at all, or she could have been possessed to wear them. “Sorry,” she adds when they get into the car and set off. “There is no other way.”  

“Back to jail,” Boomerang repeats with disgust. Sprawling on the seat, he unzips his hoodie, and Tatsu is swept over by the smell of cologne again. Weirdly, it doesn’t annoy her as much as at the beginning of the evening. “I’m a fucking Cinderella. I’m not back by midnight, they turn me into a pumpkin.”  

“Cinderella,” Tatsu echoes, and giggles: everything is way funnier now. The driver makes a sudden turn, and she is literally thrown at Boomerang. Her cheek presses to his chest – and stays there. Tatsu feels drunk and sated and drunk again, and sleepy too, and he makes for a decent pillow, and she can’t make herself move away.  

“Oh, you think it’s funny,” Harkness mutters with mock offence in his voice. It seems he’s about to fall asleep too. “Well, go on, laugh.”

They drive back in silence, and through the drowse Tatsu feels the warm arm around her waist and thinks: good thing I’m drunk, I can pretend I’m asleep.  

The road to Belle Reve is long, but it still feels like they reach it too quickly.

“Inmate,” calls one of the guards, “get out.”  

Harkness, his eyes still closed, moans with discontent.

“Captain Boomerang,” Tatsu says softly, freeing herself from his embrace. “It’s time.”

There is nothing to be done. He’s already about to step out of the jeep, when he suddenly moves closer to her again.

“Hey, darlin’,” he says, looking her right in the eye. “Aren’t ya forgetting something?”

It takes her some time to realize what he means: he must be expecting her to kiss him. All at once she remembers everything that has happened this evening, and awful shame washes over her: it is no wonder he’s expecting that to happen.  

“Inmate, get out!”

She shrinks back.

“Good night, Captain,” she tells him as dryly as she can. He looks wounded but says nothing, and almost obediently lets the guards escort him back to his cell. Tatsu closes her eyes and rubs her temples wearily. Tomorrow she is going to regret drinking so much. She already does – and that’s not the only thing she regrets.

She has to stop seeing him.

 ***

 At first, she even succeeds. Next Friday Tatsu, as always, goes to Belle Reve to see the Squad – all of them save for Harkness. She feels sick at heart because if she did promise him anything, it was to visit him, and now she’s going back on her word because of her own stupid weakness. But there is no other way.  

“He asked about you,” Waylon tells her a week later, when she brings him the latest issue of Playboy. Tatsu almost doesn’t feel weird anymore when buying it, and doesn’t try to imagine anymore what the news stand clerks think when she pays them for it. Such periodicals cause her a feeling of light disgust, but Croc, who gets let out of jail only to be thrown into another trouble spot, deserves at least some small joys.  

“Who?”

Waylon, no doubt observant like all the quiet ones tend to be, bares his impressive teeth.  

“You know who.”

It seems a logical solution to give up on these visits at all – but in that case she would betray all of them. Perhaps this little tradition is much more important to her than it is to the prisoners, but Tatsu is almost sure that it means something to them as well. She has no right to deprive the rest of them of this bit of understanding, companionship, normalcy because she wasn’t smart enough to stop the game she and Boomerang started before it became too late.

At home – not that the apartment she’s renting here deserves to be called ‘home’ – she, unable to fall asleep, unsheathes the sword and runs the tips of her fingers along the cool blade. A tender, habitual movement – like touching the cheek of a loved one.

“I’ve lost my way, Maseo,” whispers Tatsu. The place where the souls of the people struck down by this blade are trapped is still a mystery to her, but she knows that Maseo will come as soon as she calls him – as a voice from afar, as nebulous shapes in the swirls of smoke, as the peace and safety granted by the presence of someone dear. “I’m afraid of my own heart.”    

I know your heart, Tatsu. You have nothing to be afraid of.

“It makes me act rashly. Makes me succumb to false feelings.”  

I know your heart, Tatsu, and it incapable of falsehood.  

Only the ones that are already far away can speak so vaguely and with such unrelenting honesty at the same time.  

“I will always love you,” she whispers ardently. Not because she doesn’t want him to think it is not so; not because she herself feels like it is not so anymore either. She knows for sure that she is always going to love him, for she loved him as a lover, as a husband, as the father of her children, as the only thing she had left after all her life fell apart, burned in that damned fire. He will stay in her heart until her last breath – even if she has to close her heart to the rest of the world. Once she used to think that after all she’s been through, it isn’t going to be an issue.

And I will always love you, her husband replies, and Tatsu blinks back tears with a deep sigh.

“I just wish you were alive,” she tells him for what must be the hundredth, or maybe a thousandth time.

If he was with her – not as smoke or a voice, but as flesh and blood – he probably would have kissed her gently on the nape of her neck, as he often used to do.  

I just wish, says her husband – no, the soul of her husband, which is already rushing away, deep into the world she shouldn’t hurry to go to if she doesn’t want this sword to fall into wrong hands, that you were happy.

***

 Literally the next day there is a message from Metropolis that some giant snake-like beast is terrorizing the city and devouring people. The monster was last seen crawling into the building of the opera – which is where their squad heads to after reaching the city.  

“Look at that freak,” Harkness comments in a low voice. The creature is curled up slumbering on stage, and they are watching it from the catwalks above. “Not a family of yours by any chance, eh, ‘gator?’    

Waylon steps towards him, and the planks creak under his feet, threatening to break.

“Say that again,” he growls.

Tatsu bares her sword and wedges herself between them. Waylon backs off reluctantly.

“Knock it off,” she tells Boomerang. It feels like everything has come full circle – the day Harkness picked up her mask, he also had a run-in with Jones. The day they were sent to fight the Enchantress, she also put the blade of her sword under his chin. Why did she even think something would change?

“Oh, so you’re talking to me after all?”

“Enough,” Tatsu hisses. She really wants to try to explain everything to him. Maybe if she tries to put her feelings into words, many things will become clear to her, too. But if he thinks they are going to discuss this now, he is mistaken.

On the neighbouring catwalk, Rick is looking at them in a rage, gesturing both of them to shut up. Harkness steps closer; now the blade of the Soultaker is within a hair’s breadth away from his neck. A single careless movement, and blood will be spilled. A wild idea crosses her mind: it looks as if he’s into this. Tatsu licks her lips.

“Y’know,” Boomerang begins, lowering his head a little so that it is easier for him to look her in the eye, “I think you’re scared of me. Or of yourself, hell if I know. Am I right?”  

A loud rustle comes from beneath, and the next instant the monster bites through the middle of the catwalk they’re standing on, and both of them are falling down. Tatsu manages to grab some rope, but when she tries to climb it, her hands slip, and she comes tumbling down.

The fall is far from being soft, even though she falls on the tatters of the curtain, which the snake must have torn earlier. She is lucky not to hurt her head, but her left leg and hip are aching. Only the awareness that there is no time to lie around makes her summon up all her strength and get up. Her sword is nowhere to be seen, and Tatsu is overwhelmed by fury: now she is useless.

The snake roars and shakes its head, trying to shake off Croc, who is trying to bite through its scales. Rick is shooting at the monster from above, and Deadshot, who is already on stage somehow, is doing the same from below, dodging the blows of its tail. Tatsu sweeps her eyes weakly over the stage and suddenly notices a hole broken in it. At the very edge of the hole, the hilt of her sword is sticking out of the floor. Moving as quickly as it is possible to do that with a limp, Tatsu hurries there.

The moment she pulls the sword out of the stage, Harkness’s head pokes out of the hole. Not waiting for him to ask for help, Tatsu helps him get out.

“Are you…” both of them begin in unison and drop it immediately, because the snake has managed to shake off the bothersome little crocodile – who is hopefully just somewhere on the floor and not in its belly – and is moving towards them, slower than before but still pretty speedily. They scatter, and Tatsu charges at the monster with her sword drawn. Harkness throws a boomerang at the creature, aiming at its eye, but it dodges at the last second.        

Eventually, with joint forces they manage to kill the beast. To be on the safe side, Lawton fires a round into its open jaws. The long body shudders one last time and falls still. For some time, the five of them stand there looking at it.

“Where could this thing even come from?” Rick mutters.

“Remember what the Wicked Witch of the West said when she tried to get us to join her? The world is changing, the time of magic has come, blah, blah, blah,” Lawton reminds him. Rick nods absentmindedly; these are not happy memories.

Jones kicks the dead snake.

“Maybe it meant no harm,” he points out in his deep voice.

“Croc,” Rick says wearily, “it ate people.”

“So did I.”

“But at least you didn’t chew the curtain at the opera like a disgraced diva?” Lawton asks, struggling not to grin.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Well, then it’s okay.”

Rick titters nervously, and the next instant all of them are shaking with laughter.

 Tatsu is drinking water straight from the tap in the restroom, when Harkness comes in.

“This is a ladies’ room,” she says reflexively.

“Hey, I just wanna wash my face, is all.”

Without waiting for her to answer, he comes closer and starts washing at the neighbouring sink. Tatsu casts a sidelong look at him and notices that the water is turning red.  

“Show me your face,” she orders.

“It’s not a bad face, what’s yer problem?”

“I’m serious.”

He rolls his eyes, but stands still while she examines his face, only wincing when she dabs at the cut on his forehead with a paper towel.

“Just a scratch,” he assures at once.

“Just a scratch,” Tatsu agrees. She scrunches up the towel and throws it into the sink. She would like to keep her hand on his face, pretending that she’s still wiping off the blood, but she’s done pretending.

“How about you?” Boomerang asks quietly.

“Fine. A couple of bruises. You were lucky today,” she says just as quietly, and takes off her mask. Tomorrow they might not be as lucky. “I’m happy for you.”

“And I’m happy you got out alive… darl.”

For a moment she wants him to ruin everything. To reply with a jibe, to crack another dirty joke, to try to grab and kiss her only to get smacked. Not to stand motionless in front of her like he’s afraid to scare her off. It occurred to her once that from the outside their relationship might look like an attempt to tame a wild animal. Perhaps this is a mutual process.

Do whatever you want to him.

She stands up on tiptoes and kisses him.

For an instant, Harkness freezes – possibly trying to figure out again if he’s dreaming – and then pulls her closer and kisses back. Drinks her hungrily, like this is both the first time and the last. Bearing in mind what their lives are like, it really might be the last.

Tatsu doesn’t immediately realize why she suddenly doesn’t need to stand on tiptoes anymore.

“Put me down–” she starts, but gives up and wraps her legs around his waist. Boomerang grunts with satisfaction and switches from her lips to her neck. His beard, fortunately, is softer than could have been expected.  

“Stop drinking so much,” Tatsu breathes out, now that no one is trying to shut her mouth. “You taste like…” all English words slip her mind, “like… a beer cask.”  

It tickles her when he laughs into her neck.

Someone simply must enter now – Rick, Floyd, Amanda Waller, the president of the United  States, but no, no one is trying to stop him from squeezing her hips, to stop her from running her fingers through his hair. Weapon to weapon, blade to blade. Red-hot metal to red-hot metal. Melting until something new is forged – without fear, without regret, without the past, without the future.

Clearly, Maseo wants too much: she remembers what happiness is, and she is sure she’ll never ever be happy again.

But she can take a shot at being alive.