#to be a brooding loner again taking place at the same time

[wesavegotham]

The different parts of Gotham War not lining up at all in terms of plot, character motivation and characterization is bad enough, but now that DC is suddenly trying to explain when other titles like Detective Comics and Batman and Robin are taking place in relation to Gotham War it gets even worse because now all of these storylines make so much less sense too.

[lonelywretchjervistetch]

My DC Cinematic Universe: Batman (Part I)

Prologue: The Endless Night

...How the hell am I supposed to start this one? I mean, Jesus Christ, it's Batman. Comparing Batman to Superman, this is a much harder film to plot out for me. Why? Well, frankly, Batman's been a lot luckier in media than Superman has. Some of the greatest comic book movies of all time are Batman films, after all. Not to mention the fact that we all know Batman as a character by now, and Superman's never really been that lucky. So, again...how the hell am I supposed to do this?

Well, I guess I just start in the same way that I did the last one, right? Defining my version of Batman/Bruce Wayne. And that's not terribly difficult...but it also isn't exactly new territory at the same time. Still, I'll give it a shot here. So, I'll start with exactly that: Who is Batman?

Chapter One: Redefining the Defined

The simple answer to this question is as such: Batman is the real identity, while Bruce Wayne is the mask. A hot take? No, most certainly not a hot take at this point. Most interpretations of the character realize this to a certain degree, although that degree is highly variable in some cases. But the point here is that Batman is essentially the reverse of Superman, in most ways. Day vs. night, colorful vs. greyscale, lawful vs. chaotic, and hope vs. fear. But both are still good. And I think movies seem to forget that about Batman.

Look, Batman walking the edge of the abyss isn't a fresh take either, but more often than not, filmmakers tend to throw him a little bit into it. Moreso than I think they should. Batman is chaotic or neutral good alignment, yes, but he's still good aligned, no matter what. And he's also an extremely complex character, almost absurdly so in many cases. Because of that, a lot of his character is simplified, and frankly, the character is usually pretty Flanderized in media nowadays.

Ah, yes, Flanderizing. The idea of taking a complex character, full of nuance and personality and a past of their own, and simplifying them into base characteristics to the point of absurdity and exaggeration. It's what happened to Ned Flanders in The Simpsons, but it happens to a LOT of superheroes. Superman's one of the worst affected by this, mostly being simplified to his powers and goodness, with the personality and character completely lost in the shuffle. But even then...Batman is WAY worse.

Whenever people think of Batman, their minds go to a few places. A tough brooding loner, instilling fear into the hearts of criminals, still mourning the loss of his parents to a near-sociopathic degree, and taking out his grief on the faces of clowns and wrestlers alike. Also, his voice is gruff and raspy. And OK, that's a take on the character, sure, but goddamn is that an oversimplification. And that oversimplification leads to...other issues.

But before I go into too much detail there, let me define what my Batman is once and for all. Batman is justice, teetering on the edge of vengeance. He believes in a true moral right, but doesn't trust the systems in place in Gotham to enforce that right, placing it into his own hands as a result. Makes him a bit of a control freak, but it also makes him scarily efficient and proficient. He's a brilliant man and self-trained detective and expert in many field. He's a worldly man and proficient athlete, honing himself for the singular purpose of exacting justice like no other person possibly could.

However, he's also a very damaged person, in desperate need of therapy, but with the singular purpose of mind that makes him confidently believe in self-control over his own mental state, to the point of obsession and exaggeration. Yes, he walks on the edge of the abyss, but he's always aware of that edge, and doesn't actually want to fall into it. However, he embraces the darkness that lies within it as a tool for justice, rather than a part of his self-perception.

With that said, some of you may be thinking...haven't we already seen this in other versions of the character? And we have...partially. But let's get into it, and I'll try and explain my specific version of the character a little better. Because every version got something right...but nobody got everything right. And I do mean every version.

Adam West's Batman, despite the goofy-ass Silver-Age Universe he was in, definitely got the hero and do-gooder part of the character down pat. Other than the superficial stuff, like the gadgets and the Batcave and all that, West's silly iteration of the character wanted to do good for no other reason than it being the right thing to do. And yeah, that's accurate. Batman wants to do the right thing because too few people in Gotham want to or can, and somebody fucking has to. Batman being in alliance with a moral good is an important and often overlooked part of the character.

Michael Keaton's excellent turn as Batman in the Burton films definitely got the damaged billionaire thing right. Maybe a little too right, in fact. This version of Batman was a detective and crusader of the night, as well as a crusader for justice, but he was way more damaged than most versions of the character tend to be. The line between Bruce and Bat was appropriately blurred, but it also made it very obvious that they were the same person. Still, Keaton correctly played the character as teetering on the edges of madness and obsession. His "Bruce" left a little something to be desired, though.

I'd bring up Kilmer and Clooney here, but they sort of copy West in terms of their Batmen. Even then, they barely had personality to begin with, and they definitely aren't quite worth talking about.

Hoo boy, Christian Bale. This Batman is a truly interesting one, because he embraces fear far more than most of the rest do. Sure, Keaton's Batman is a little spooky, but Bale's Batman really dials up the idea of a fear-generating force of the night. His Bruce Wayne truly is a mask, distancing himself greatly from the identity of Batman, in almost a direct response to the Keaton Batman. However, this Batman also loses most of the detective angle, and instead leans into the vengeance-seeking vigilante who actively murders people. And yes, I mean that. Not saving somebody is effectively the same as murdering them, Bruce. Not that Keaton's Batman is any better, since he actively kills a few people. We'll, uh...we'll get to that problem later.

Anyway, Bale's Batman is good for a lot of things, but he's a simplified version of the character. Like, I can call that Batman a lot of things, but he's not particularly smart, for one. And for two, he's not particularly heroic, either. I mean, yeah, he saves the city three times, but it's usually based off personal stakes or a challenge to him directly. It's not really about doing the right thing in these instances. But that's NOTHING compared to...

Fuck Batfleck, if I can just say that right now. Batfleck is a really shitty version of this character, and has ESSENTIALLY NOTHING that Batman should have. He's a murderer, his actions are inherently cruel, he's a stupid and easily manipulated IDIOT who never does any difficult detective work, and he's a brute and a cad. Fuck this version of Batman. Fuck him, fuck him, fuuuuuuuuuck hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim. The depths to which I hate this stupid, STUPID moron cannot be overestimated. Take the rightfully lambasted Martha scene.

I know the Martha scene is an easy target, but it's far easier than most people realize. Yeah, the fact that he stops fighting Superman immediately because of the coincidence of their mom's names is really stupid, but it also shows just how little Bruce thought about this shit, or about Superman in general. Not only did that catch him by surprise, but the fact that Superman HAD A MOM caught him by surprise, because he hadn't considered to think of him as a person. Think about that. Like, really think about that.

Every incarnation, and I mean EVERY incarnation of Batman that's interacted with Superman has deduced his secret identity as Clark Kent, quickly and easily. For fucks sake, it wouldn't even be that hard, THEY TALK TO EACH OTHER AS CLARK AND BRUCE IN THE MOVIE. But Bruce clearly didn't realize that Superman was Clark Kent at the time, and if he did...what, he did NO fucking research on the dude? This version of Bruce was thoroughly unprepared to face of against Superman, and didn't look into him AT ALL, before immediately jumping to conclusions while wearing that fucking Frank Miller armor of his. And don't get me STARTED on Frank fucking Miller's culpability in the Flanderization of Batman, because we'll be here ALL FUCKING DAY. FUCK THIS BATMAN WITH ALL OF MY HEART AND SOUL.

...OK, I think I got it all out of my system. For now. Seriously, I could keep going on about it, but I got other shit to talk about. Like, for example, a Batman I actually like. A lot.

Is Robert Pattinson's Batman perfect? No. He has issues that plague many of the other Batmen listed here. However, good goddamn, is this version fucking close to perfect. He's intelligent, he's a detective, he uses fear as a tool to fight the underworld, he's clearly a proficient fighter and gadget-user, and maybe most importantly, he actually becomes a hero by the end. Think about this. How many versions of Batman have you seen actually directly save the citizens of Gotham? He usually saves people from afar, or indirectly. Rarely does he save individual people from a crisis like he does in this movie, multiple times. He's a mostly well-balanced version of the character. Mostly.

And that's because...we'll, he's clearly not fucking OK. Look, I like Battinson as much as the next guy, but he's the only Batman who I can confidently say listens to My Chemical Romance on the regular. The dude is the most unstable of the Batmen by far, outpacing even Keaton for the role. But while Keaton seems more like Bruce Wayne dressing up as Batman, and Bale is the opposite, Pattinson is CLEARLY fusing the two identities into the same person. Bruce Wayne is absolutely subsumed by Batman, and he makes no effort to hide that, nor does he seem to care. And honestly, that's an interesting take! He's a very psychologically damaged character normally, and this version makes that far more prominent.

The other major problem I had is the whole "Vengeance" thing. Not calling himself that, necessarily, although it's a little emo for my tastes. It's the fact that he definitely leans more towards vengeance than he does justice. But then again, I say I had that problem because that's actually sort of the point. When we see this version at first, he calls himself Vengeance and acts as such. But by the end...he's just actually helping people. He's a hero, and he acts for justice, not just vengeance. It's his story arc. And that's something that Batman usually doesn't get: actual character development.

I mean, think about it: what do the Batmen actually learn in their journeys? Keaton doesn't really change throughout his films. He's still an eccentric loner who opens up to women out of desperation, but doesn't really learn anything from his struggles. Bale has stuff happen to him most of the time, but I can't say that he changed much between movies. Maybe in the last one, where he gives up the crusade to pursue a life of peace, but is that really the right story for Batman? Affleck...learns not to be an absolute douche-nozzle, I fucking guess. Not a lesson. Just not being a dick. But Pattinson learns to be a hero, and gains a slightly new view of his mission at the end, as well as of Alfred. It's an actual character journey, even though it isn't the strongest one ever. So yeah, he's near perfect, even if he is also a whiny emo teenager who shouts "YOU'RE NOT MY REAL DAD" at Alfred a few times. Yeah, he's good, but he ain't perfect.

So, with all of that said, who is Batman? He's a little emotionally closed off, from himself and from others. He's still a human being with likes and desires, but those likes and desires come second to the journey. He's not a constant brooding loner, but he struggles with his own mental issues and his own obsessions. He's in desperate need of therapy, but prefers to solve his own problems, as he does with most things. He's controlling to sometimes pathological degrees, but never with ill-intent. And he's always prepared as much as he reasonably can be, for any contingency.

Batman doesn't take his nights off much, and overworks himself constantly to fulfill a goal which doesn't truly exist. He's a crusader for justice with and without the mask, and is fiercely devoted to his city and his people. But when he does take a night off, he watches film noir and Zorro. He reads the newspaper, to minimize his screen time and relax a little bit. He likes obscure coffees and beverages, leaning more towards the bitter than anything else. His tastes are obscure and seemingly rich, but are actually worldly and well-informed. He's a brilliant man who hides his brilliance behind silent actions and clever words. And to those who share his vision of a better world, he may be critical, but is also fiercely loyal.

I mean, in a word...he's Batman.

It's funny, but I think Batman has a similar problem to Superman, in an unexpected way. Like Superman, people tend to forget that he's human. Batman, despite his journey and trauma and mission, is absolutely a person, with the same flaws and foibles as a regular person has. And that seems to go without saying, since all versions of Batman have been flawed, right? But if that's the case, why is the character so over-idolized in the public eye, especially by bros who say he's the coolest character ever, who can take anybody in a fight? That limited view and mentality of the character is what gave us the dumbass meathead murderer in Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Jesus Fucking CHRIST This Name Never Gets Less Stupid.

But who's to blame for this? Is anybody to blame for the dehumanization of Batman? Yes. Yes, there is somebody to blame.

Allow me to throw in an emphatic "FUCK YOU, FRANK MILLER" into this essay post, real quick. Is Batman: Year One an influential narrative masterpiece? Honestly, yes. And yes, it informs the modern version of the character. However, this and Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (another great story for the most part, I'll admit) RUINED the character for generations to come. Batman was broken down into a gadget wearing edgelord, with Miller's dialogue and characterization exemplifying that image. Batman: Year One was great, to me, because it brilliantly contextualized Gotham for a new era, not because of "Yes, Father; I will become a bat." Great line, but real edgy.

And by the way, that's not even talking about Miller's rampant misogyny in those books, or the horrendous racist tendencies he would display later on in life. It's also not talking about his horrible artwork, his misunderstanding and horrid mishandling of any character that isn't Batman, or his DISASTROUS modern take on the character that revealed how he ACTUALLY saw Batman as a character. Miller's...not great, and even if these stories gave us some iconic lines and takes, they also caused a lot of harm down the line. After all, the issues with Snyder's Batman can be directly traced to Miller's take on the character.

So, then, with all of that said...how the hell am I supposed to start this one? Yeah, I'm still in the same boat as I was when I began this shit! See, it's all well and good to define my version of Batman, but that's not the only problem here. Because, after all, we've had 8 cinematic iterations of the character and the world he lives in, as well as 10 stories told about the character. And that's not accounting for the numerous animated series, radio plays, serial films, and the COMIC BOOKS. So, how do you tell a story that's interesting to newcomers (of which there can't be many at this point), and faithful to the character and his stories?

Well, I have some ideas on that, of course. But before anything else, let's flesh out the world that he lives in. Last time, I started the Superman essay series by talking about Lois Lane, the Kents, and other supporting characters. And I'll start similarly here, with four major supporting characters getting their own chapters, then going into the world of Gotham and its citizens, the vast gallery of rogues against Batman, and then finally getting into the story of this theoretical movie.

That's the plan, anyway. We'll see how well that holds up, huh?

Part One: Batman Part Two: Alfred and the Waynes Part Three: James Gordon and the GCPD (Coming Soon) Part Four: Gotham City (Coming Soon) Part Five: Joker (Coming Soon) Part Six: The Usual Suspects (Coming Soon) Part Seven: And the Rest (Coming Soon) Part Eight: The Story - Act One (Coming Soon) Part Nine: The Story - Acts Two and Three (Coming Soon) Part Ten: The Story - Climax and Ending (Coming Soon) Part Eleven: Epilogue (Coming Soon)

[sacredcynic]

Needs To Be Said

    Once again it has happened, and this time it was in our own backyard.  A frustrated loner dealing with demons decided to make a name for himself and as a result 6 families, and a community will never be the same. This is a time for good words and wisdom, but none are forthcoming. Why pause for wisdom when there are political points to be made, and adversaries to link to the horrific crime? After all, why waste a crisis? This is what sadly passes for wisdom among our political leaders. Yet words are needed. The reality of our current time is that no one is listening. No one is listening in times of great division.  Perhaps no one is listening because no one want to address the problem.  

   I think that is the real reason. Why listen when no one even addresses the issue? Instead of addressing the issue, we revert back to our political bunkers, find a way to use news to attach “them,” and we hurl accusations across the board.  So let’s address the issue. Not the fake issues we hear but the real reasons stories like this happen.  Let’s have a real conversation.  A real conversation means you have to let other people talk. We have trouble doing that. Perhaps we can refrain from calling people names and hear their perspective. Let me throw out the first pitch in this discussion.  Rest assured, I will make you mad.  Everyone.  The truth of the matter is that we are all to blame.  Here is a first pass list of all the ingredients that have created our particular, tragic stew.  

    First, this should be the elephant in the room.  40% of all children born today are born into a fatherless environment.  Showing up once a month with a check is not what a father does. A father is there every day.  A father sometimes has to rather aggressively and strongly take down anti-social or troublesome behavior. Many young men have to learn how to overcome an anger or brooding response that often troubles them. The best teachers are those men who have wise advice that flows from winning the battle themselves.  Besides that 40% there are many other homes where the father has mentally checked out. It is equally the father’s responsibility to raise the kids, and dads play a unique role with young men and how to govern their impulses. If you are a mom who steps in when your husband does something differently than you – you better stop.  And dads, step up to the plate now. This is our fault. 

     One other thing.  I hate to remind us about what was common knowledge until about 10 minutes ago historically – boys and girls are different. They see the world differently, they react differently, and they are impacted by sex and hormones in different ways.  The perpetrators of these acts are young men. We need other men to intervene in their lives earlier, and it would help if we do this without someone jumping from behind a bush to yell “Patriarchy.” This is your fault.  

     To those that insist again and again that the sole issue is the gun, many of us remember a time when kids were excused from school during hunting season and had their guns in their car, and we were not troubled by these events. The gun did not wander into a public place on its own and go off. Collectively we held more tightly onto the notion of values and morals more closely in other times. Collectively, we have spent the last generation or two decrying any values as somehow oppressive and so we have thrown them off. This is the other side of that coin.  This is our fault. 

     There are others who want to confer a near sacred status to the gun. We must admit that we have a societal problem when troubled young men possess a weapon.  The easy thing to do is expect the government to do something.  It is all of our responsibility. Even among those see the value in having a gun, my hope is that we have at least as much investment in the words of Jesus about peacemaking, and turning the other cheek as we do the right bear arms. When we have the right absent some very important language, we become imbalanced.  I do not want to make the mistake of equating gun ownership with a failure to value peace, but we must choose our words and language carefully.  When we elevate the gun – it is our fault.  

     There is a common thread to these crimes, and that is an anti-social aspect to those who commit them.  Young men need socialization. My heart goes out to teachers who labor in impossible situations. They are caught between administrations, parents and their own expectations. Yet in these past few years we have seen leadership of teachers and school administrations work very hard to keep schools closed.  Then we are shocked at a rise in anti-social behavior.  At the same time, we expect a certain level of behavior and etiquette in the classroom while at the same time tossing out the foundations for these behaviors.  We no longer teach civics and the mere mention of God in schools sends school administrators to the fainting couch. We no longer hold up people as examples. We apply hopeless 2022 standards back onto people who could not have even comprehended our time, and if we find any supposed fault, we tear them down and tell every student how awful and bad this country is. We fill them with such disdain and then we are again shocked that some strike out against it. If not this place and time, when else would you choose to be born if you had your historical choice?  And yet we ruthlessly tear this down with all of its benefits and blessings. Perhaps it is time to expect leadership from those who see themselves as leaders.  It is your fault. 

   There are also certain parents we should address. There is an epidemic of parents who try to protect their child from every slight and harm.  Johnny didn’t fail the test because he did not know the answers, but because the teacher didn’t like him.  Your kid doesn’t disrupt the class, the teacher picks on him.  Nothing is ever your child’s fault, which might be a trait he learned from mom and dad. Right now, it seems the responsible parents are pulling out of the school system.  Is this a recipe for success?  Keep standards high and enforce those standards.  Do not lower them for anyone. When a teacher is tough on our kids, we should see that for the learning opportunity it is, and not something that I have to protect my child from.  To every teacher that was tough on me, who expected more from me than I did from myself, who made me push hard and yelled at me when I did not hustle – THANK YOU !! When we pull away from a challenge – it is our fault. 

   I can’t believe that this needs to be said, but it does.  To those who produce video games that feature and dramatize violence and shooting others – this is your fault. I do not want to make a law, but I appeal to whatever shred of morality and decency that you may yet harbor – stop doing it. This desensitizes people to death. And while you may be right that these “games” do not harm a normally functioning person, they undoubtedly affect those who commit these crimes. We know from previous cases the level of involvement that many had in these games.  Just because you can does not mean you should. There is something higher to aspire to than another dollar of profit. 

   The same goes for those who continue to produce music that both glorifies and normalizes violence against women, police and other societal figures. You cannot continue to produce such content and then decry the acts that are downstream from the content you produce.  This is your fault. 

  Even more people will not like me now.  There is a mythic story that most of us like to hear.  While the details are different, the plot is the same.  The lone figure enters a situation and makes things right by themselves. In a previous era that figure might have been Atticus Finch, but now it is Liam Neeson with a particular set of skills, or Denzel Washington with an accurate nail gun. As the body count goes higher and higher we cheer more and more, even as we shake our head at the news where body counts are a grim reality. The truth is we have grown far too comfortable with fictionalized scenes not that different from the reality we saw yesterday.  Perhaps our own choices add to the profit of those who create that content and adds to a calloused culture. What we tolerate, we will get more of.  It is our fault.   

        To our political leaders, and I use the term “leader” very lightly, start to lead.  Leading is not what is done in the aftermath of an event, but every day. Stop using every news cycle as a chance to win the news conference and be a leader of all the people. Stop demonizing others in the vain attempt to score points. Stop seeing every event as the chance to fund raise for your campaign. This is time to take a breath and take a larger look at our culture and your role in the dialogue. This might be a good time to lower the temperature instead of raising it so your fund-raising can increase, and incidentally you get to keep what you do not spend on the election. When you decry a pet issue while engaging in legalized graft you should see this is not the best look, and people notice. This is your fault. 

     To our churches, it is time to step up and not because we choose to engage in one end of the political arena. We have too much politics already and not enough engagement. We need to step in where there are no fathers. We need to not only hear love, joy, peace, gentleness, kindness and self-control, but see it in action. We need to keep our own standards high and lead from strength.  There are some who like their Christianity muscular, and this is a time to flex.  This is not the time for another political voice, but physical presence in homes and neighborhoods. To the extent that we have not, this is our fault. 

     If I have any friends left this is where I lose them. We hear the word “safety” far too often.  The reaction is pull back and think solely about safety. This is exactly the opposite of what is needed. We need to engage more, not less.  We need to meet more people, not less. We need to love more, not less. With each engagement, and each new person we meet the odds for loss and hurt increase, but so do the odds for redemption and grace.  Grace always requires a risk. This is something that Jesus knew, and went anyway.  Now it is our turn. 

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

Sorry but what exactly is up with the bad batch arc? I've heard people talk about the issues with echo's white skin but I haven't heard that many bad things about the arc itself? (ik you said you don't want to be negative on your blog so I would absolutely understand if you didn't answer this ask)

Oooooooooooh boy. Well I just had a long, long, LONG rant about it with someone, but I guess I’ve got an excuse to put all of my points onto a post and talk about it publicly now that I got an ask x) I’ll keep it under the cut so I don’t throw my salt in people’s face. I really don’t want to upset people who love that arc - it has redeeming qualities, but overall it pisses me off so much for so many reasons. So here:

The first issue is obviously two members of the Bad Batch (minus Echo) being being just about the furthest thing from maori no matter how much you're willing to stretch it. 

Like... yeah, nah. I wouldn’t even accept Crosshair and Tech (grey haired guy and goggles guy) as Jango’s natural biological sons, nevermind as his clones. 

The problem is that their different appearances are justified by them being described simply as clones with desirable mutations (i.e superpowers). But why the hell did the creators have to change their appearances for that to be a thing? How does that correlate? Sure, the concept of clones with different faces is interesting, except... no, no it’s not, and I’m gonna rant about it in a few secs. But basically it's like they thought giving them different faces would be a good substitute for having different personalities (another thing I’ll come back to). If they really wanted to have buff clones with super eyesight or whatnot they could have just done that, without making them lose what little melanin the lighting of the show had allowed the other Clones to keep. 

But the gigantic problem is... showing that the "regular" clones have VERY distinct identities despite their identical faces has been one of the themes of the show from episode 1. Literally, the first episode of TCW has Yoda taking time out of a mission with galactic stakes to tell the three clones he’s with (who tell him they’re all the same because they have the same faces) that they’re wrong, and that they’re very different in the Force, that their appearance doesn’t matter, that they’re all equally unique and important, and he lists all of their individual skills, strengths and weaknesses. 

And it’s not just me being bothered by that, here’s a post by @cacodaemonia​ saying the same thing. 

Introducing the Bad Batch as "unique" clones who are "different" and "not like their brothers" because they have different faces and skills completely breaks that theme of the show!! Because the entire point of the Clones in TCW is that their faces don't matter, they ARE unique! 

(Plus the Bad Batch’s character designs are so cliche and uninspired it’s just laughable to try and justify bleaching their freaking skin for the sake of visual diversity. 

This took like 10 seconds. I found the first guy by literally googling “soldier movies,” and the other two are Team Fortress characters that look a LOT like Wrecker and Crosshair. One is “Heavy” and one is “Sniper” lmao.

And behold:

The above picture is a Team Fortress reference that I found just by looking up “bad batch clone wars,” so I’m not the only person who sees it.) 

And the batchers don't even have personalities to justify calling them unique! They have no character traits beyond the most cliché american soldier tropes ever. We have a token loner sniper, a token "smart tech guy" who knows everything from xenoanthropology to biology to Separatist computers to sound waves to encryption, a token Badass Brooding Leader and a token “dumb muscle guy.”

I dare anyone to find more about their personalities than this: - Crosshair is the perpetually grumpy sniper who looks down on "regs,” - Wrecker likes to blow up stuff and doesn't like heights, - Hunter is the leader and is friends with Cody, - Tech is smart doesn't trust Echo. 

That’s it, that’s literally it. Four episodes about them and that's all we get. These character tropes are literally the least inventive ever. FFS, Hunter even has a freaking KNIFE! Not a vibroblade, mind you, like in kriffing Star Wars. A knife. Against metal droids. Why. They couldn’t make this more of an american-war-movies cliché fest if they tried. (And sure, he can feel electromagnetic waves so maybe it does make sense for him not to carry a vibroblade and maybe this is nitpicking, but he looks like a ripoff of a Predator character and it pisses me off).

Another thing is that when you introduce characters you have to make them likable - and them despising the normal Clones is a terrible way to do that! And they don't even grow from that because at the end of the 4 episodes arc they just see Rex as not bad "for a reg" and they see Echo as no longer a reg, and both of these things are infuriating! 

The worst thing imo is that Echo then becomes part of them (and irreparably loses his melanin in the process, uuuuuuuuugh) when there is nothing to justify this. 

The dialogue goes like this: 

ECHO: You coming? TECH: Not really our thing. CROSSHAIR: Accolades. WRECKER: Yeah, we're just in it for the thrill. Yo! HUNTER: You sure it's your thing? ECHO: What do you mean? HUNTER: Your path is different. Like ours. If you ever feel like you don't fit in with them, well, find us. (they leave) REX: Those are some of the finest troopers I've ever fought alongside. Echo. You and I go way back. If that's where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong.

Echo doesn't feel like he belongs anymore, okay, but why would he feel like he belongs with the assholes who up to the last five minutes of the mission thought he was probably a traitor, and also verbally expressed that he was not worth saving?? In all of the arc, Echo himself never voices that he feels he’s not ‘like the other Clones’ anymore and that he feels it’s a problem. His relationship with Rex immediately picks up where they left things off - the first thing he does upon being lucid again for the first in over a year is cracking a joke for Rex’s benefit. 

Why would Echo feel like he doesn’t belong in the 501st anymore, when we don't even see him interacting with anyone from his past life except for Rex and Anakin (who are both extremely very supportive of him)?? If there had been one scene of a “regular” Clone (ugh) looking at him with horror and disgust or something, or just Kix and Jesse cracking jokes with Echo awkwardly standing by the side not getting it, I could forgive the show trying to make it feel like he has an identity crisis, but this was so shallow!

The only thing that makes Echo and the Bad Batch’s experiences similar is that they *look* different. It’s so against the themes of the Clones I’m seething just from thinking about it. And what the hell? Echo ALREADY didn’t fit in. That was the WHOLE POINT of Domino Squad. They didn’t fit in because they thought they were better than anyone else because they had trouble getting along with their brothers, so obviously it had to be their brothers’ fault (ahem, Bad Batch?). And you know what happened? Domino Squad OVERCAME that. And Echo and Fives still didn’t “fit in” because their personalities were unique and creative, and they became ARC Troopers because Cody, Rex and the Jedi VALUED THEM FOR PRECISELY THAT. Echo having new and unique skills and a modified appearance is the most bs justification for him feeling like he doesn’t belong!! 

And that brings me to my biggest issue: Rex telling Echo the bad batch are some of the best troopers he's ever met. I'm sorry, based on WHAT? What Rex values above everything is loyalty and brotherhood, and the Bad Batch DOESN'T DISPLAY ANY OF THAT. We never see them even expressing concern for each other! Wrecker treats saving Cody’s life like a trivial issue, because it’s just ‘sO eAsY’ for him, and beyond that we never see them supporting each other or genuinely expressing affection for each other beyond boasting about each other’s skills... 

Sure they can destroy a lot of droids, but they're dismissive of Rex's brothers, and the entire Umbara arc and this arc showed what he thought of that. They keep saying things like "not bad for a reg,” don't show any trust in Rex's skills or experience (even though they can't have been fighting in the war for more than a year and a half when he’s been there from the beginning, and he outranks all of them), they are essentially guerilla fighters which has only minimal value in a galactic war, and they never grow beyond their views of what regs are, and can and can’t do. 

None of that should make them good troopers in Rex's book. Going back to Echo not fitting in, remember who taught the Domino Squad the importance of seeing all of your brothers as important and equally valuable? Shaak Ti, true, but more importantly? 99! The guy the Bad Batch are named after. He did have value and was important and was no less of a trooper than his brothers, even though his mutations made him LESS powerful, not more. (And btw, just from a writing standpoint, the batchers don’t have any weaknesses, which is shit.) Cody and Rex mourned 99 as a true soldier even though it wasn’t his sacrifice that brought them victory (which would have implied that he had value as a soldier and a brother because he saved them, as opposed to him having that value intrinsically), because that’s what a fine trooper is to them. A BROTHER first a foremost, someone altruistic, brave and loyal. The Bad Batch distort the meaning of 99's character with their behavior. They’re not altruistic, their bravery is mitigated by the fact that they’re freaking invincible, so of course they take risks (again, see Wrecker saving Cody without a care because it’s easy to him, as opposed to Rex being ready to run into a burning ship about to explode because his brother is in there, and having to be physically dragged away). The Bad Batch denigrate their brothers for being less skilled, thinking their own abilities make them unique somehow, when 99 could barely fight and was still the one who taught Hevy about being a good soldier. 

And again the batchers don't grow from that. Which is all the more frustrating because the original ending didn’t have Echo joining them, from what I remember of the unfinished episodes, and the arc actually ended with them receiving their medals in front of regular troopers who cheer for them, as opposed to them smugly ostracizing themselves and dismissing the ceremony as trivial and meaningless. (original ending vs s7 ending: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ab1eCfzKamw) 

It’s so annoying. Do you know what characters never had an entire arc dedicated to them and still have far more personality and more interesting designs and more symbolic weight?? 

Jesse, for starters. Kix. Dogma. Cut. Slick. Keeli. Ponds. Rys, Jek and Thire. Commander Doom. Commander Fox. Wolffe. Hevy. Hardcase. 

Cody was a more interesting character just in his RotS appearances. 

Waxer and Boil had one episode about them and then only two cameos plus Waxer’s death, and they’re still some of the most memorable, beloved Clones of the whole show. And Boil was grouchy and prejudiced like Crosshair, but he has so much growth that we could make a whole thread about it. 

I'd say the last problem with the Bad Batch is that it has cash grabbing money hungry vibes. Different faces are more marketable, cliché personalities are more toy-friendly, and it's basically a big ad for the Bad Batch series. And they throw Echo in the Batch at the end for bs reasons (again, it wasn’t in the original ep from what I remember) and they tease Cody in the show to make sure fans will still watch even if they notice the lack of soul. And less melanin sells more at Disney apparently. 

So that’s my whole pissed rant. 

[yovoyovoy]

Assorted Eli Clark Headcannons

These aren't romantic, I just like his character rand think he’s neat.

cut for length

-He seems like a very soft spoken kind of dude. He has a very steady moral compass and is a balance between introverted and extroverted. Like a mom friend. 

-But he's got old man energy so he's the group's collective grandpa. 

-I feel like he'd be the type to ask if you want to talk about it if he sees you struggling with something.

-If it involves another survivor, he's even open to be a meditator for the two of you.

-People take him up on this a lot. So it leads to the gossip of the house perking up whenever they hear Eli is looking for someone.

-Don't worry, you aren't being followed. Brooke is keeping a very close eye on the surroundings, and he'd even have it take place in his room. Just to make sure no one is watching.

-He has heavy taste for jazz music and when it picks up in tempo hell say it, "goes hard"

-Lucky showed him some 80s tracks and they're either hits or misses He's a sucker for sound design. 

-Brooke is his eyes yes, but when he sends her out he's left with just his ears.  Ideally he'd like to have someone he trusts with him. But he knows he won't always have that. But hey, he can dream. Cant he?

-I feel like when there's group movie night he'd watch the film with everyone.  Group movie days are fun because of the commentary everyone brings.  Like. They'll pause it just to go off on character design and shit. Maybe sing along to some of the songs. Yell at the characters. 

-Just group movie things.

-100% Eli has taken the time to find some of the OSTs from the movie. And when Brooke is asleep he'll just reach over on the nightstand by his bed and listen to them. Recalling all the fun times they had.

-In times like this, it's what I’d relate to closing your eyes and imagining you're there again

-This man cannot make an insult to save his life.

-He just feels so bad about it.

-He absolutely isolates himself in the beginning when he first gets to the manor. He played heavily into the brooding loner type.

-The edgy mystery type.

-The don't fuck around with me type.

-But that's because he doesn't want to make the same mistake twice.

-He has very heavy protective urges when he cares about people. He wants to keep them safe and well and happy. And those motivations, those parts of him are what got him into this death game in the first place. But oh dear god

-Once those walls break down, he goes off running.  He jumps through every hoop he has to in order to make sure his friends are safe.

-He has a soft spot for animals  (See Brooke. And I imagine before he met Brooke he had a cat. 

-If you ask him about it, depending on how long he'd been in the manor you get 2 different options.

-1) forming bonds with animals is an extensive process which i utilize. It's only fitting that I started young.

-2) oh, cats make great company. And i like how soft they are. :)

-100% people will try to dress Brooke up in little outfits. And she hates it. So when he wakes up and Brooke is just spazzing out, he is absolutely panicking trying to figure out what's wrong with her.

-She cant fly? She's moving erratically? What could it be?

-He goes to pick her up and feels some fabric. 

-Did someone tie her up maybe?

-Only to hold her up in front of the mirror and see her in a little outfit.

-He'd have to work hard to stifle laughter. But at least it wasn't something serious.

-If you’ve read The Outsider’s you’ll know what I mean when I say Eli doesn’t lock his door. 

-He has little material possessions except what he uses on a day to day basis.

 -Maybe the scattered card Emma made or the letter opener he got from Victor.

 -Oh, and the tape recorder on his nightstand. :)

-(Eli and Victor are pen pals and take pride in writing to the other survivors.)

-He has nothing really to steal so he has nothing really to worry about.

-He tells it to anyone he sees having a breakdown or someone who just needs a quiet place to go to his room.

-But even if some of his stuff goes missing or a prank gets pulled on him.

-It's never going to mean as much to him as it would helping out someone who needs it desperately.

-He has a soft spot for egg salad sandwiches

-If anyone is really sad, and he's run out of wisdom to give. I imagine he'd just ask them if they want to see something he found endearing he saw in a book.

-And if they say yes, he’s going to smile so fucking hard as he has Brooke sit on his lap or some other perch and just

[sebastianshaw]

Someone at one of the boards I write at wanted to know if we had any advice or pointers about RP, and I got to thinking. I’ve been RPing fifteen years so it’s definitely a thing I have thoughts and opinions and tips on. I don’t mean to posit myself as the all-knowing expert whose standards you have to meet, but these are some things I think are genuinely helpful for a RPers to keep in mind no matter how long they’ve been writing. But also, just my opinions! SHARE THE SPOTLIGHT This is the biggest, first and foremost. RP is a two-way street, and I think the bulk of RP sins all trace back to people not understanding this and thinking that their character is the “main” character and everyone else is just an NPC in their story. This takes a ton of variations, with commonly seen ones being insisting that other characters act OOC for their sake (your character should fall in love with mine despite the fact they just met, your character should bully mine so I can be the victim in a hurt/comfort drama even if that’s totally unlike them to do that, your official-head-of-something character should bend the rules for mine because they’re just that special, etc.), needing to be the center of attention (the character who ALWAYS limps into the room having just suffered some terrible tragedy and needing immediate help, the character who always saves the day in such a way that the others weren’t even needed, etc.), or the character whose writer just can’t stop reminding everyone at all times how tragic/beautiful/powerful/helpless/witty/skilled/etc they are. This can go in opposite directions---the helpless character who always needs to be saved vs the all-powerful character who saves the day every time all on their own---but it comes from the same mentality, that their character is the star and everyone must revolve around them. This isn’t to say you can’t have RP arcs that “star” your character and are devoted to their story/development, or that your character can never be the hero, or never need to be saved, or any of that. That’s NOT what I’m saying. I’m talking about the person who does it EVERY time, often to the detriment of the story, derailing the plot, or showing up someone else’s cool moment to get the attention back on their own muse. If you’re gonna do that, just write your own fiction. DON’T DO PASSIVE STARTERS Something I see repeatedly in RP, whether it’s at a board or on Tumblr or on Discord, are starters where the character is just...sitting there. They’re studying in their room, or chilling at a coffee house, or just standing around at a party, or overlooking the ocean from a beachside balcony, or brooding silently in the corner... ...and not making any move to interact with anyone around them. It’s on the shoulders of the person replying to have their character make the first move and find some reason to walk up to them and engage with them. A starter is meant to begin an interaction, so if the second person is starting that interaction, why even bother with the starter you made? Starters where your character is just passively waiting for someone are not usually good starters, and that’s a big reason, in my opinion, why people usually don’t reply to a starter, because they’re stuck looking for a reason WHY their character would just walk up to this person and begin an interaction. My solution to this is, if it’s a planned starter, talk to the person you’re starting it for and try to work something out. For instance, the party starter. Ask them “hey, could it be a costume party?” and ask if their character might be dressed as a character from a show/movie/book that your character really likes---that gives your guy a reason to walk up to theirs and begin a conversation about that thing, and there’s your first post right there! A much more active starter! If it’s an open, it can be a little more difficult, but still doable. For instance, one open I did, I had my girl walk in and speak to whatever person was nearest; she was carrying a basket of Halloween decorations and asking if they’d help her decorate the place. I did not specify who it was, so whoever replied could decide if it was their character or not, but it was “active” in that she gave my partner something to respond and react to, rather than if she had just, say, quietly come in by herself without greeting anyone or doing anything. Obviously this might not work with characters who are shy or antisocial, but if you’re the one who decided to play that kind of character, it’s up to YOU to find ways to get them engaged; it’s not fair to make everyone else do it for you. For instance. Shaw is NOT a friendly person like Laynia, but I had him immediately address another person in one open by creating a situation where he’d have reason to do so, and would be stuck interacting with them. MAKE YOUR CHARACTER REALISTICALLY APPROACHABLE. This often goes hand in hand with passive starters; not only will the character not be engaging anyone around them, they will in fact be in situations giving signals that actively DISCOURAGE engagement. For instance, if someone is sitting in their bedroom, it’s entirely weird for anyone to come in that ISN’T their sibling or roommate. In a Discord college RP, one guy wrote his character going home and walking into his house and had that be an open...no one played any of his family members, so I’m not sure what he expected, that someone from school would just be waiting inside his house? There are also lots of situations where people are around, but realistically are not going to speak to you. Having your character studying in the library, sitting on the subway, or at a table in a restaurant are all common starter types I’ve seen...and all of them are situations where it’s extremely unlikely someone would engage you, unless it was an absolute emergency or they completely lacked any understanding of social norms. And if that’s the case for the character you planned it with, go ahead, you’re good. But if it’s not, or it’s an open, ask yourself---”If someone else made this open, how could my character realistically respond to it?” And if you have a hard time, change things to make it easier for the other player and their muse. This also applies to muses who are hard to approach regardless of the situation. People who are shy, or antisocial, or just for whatever reason do NOT want to engage with others. Those characters are great and I’m not saying not to play them, I play lots of people like that. But you shouldn’t expect other people to have to PRY an interaction out of them, and I see people do that---they write their cool loner or shy wallflower brooding in the corner, and if someone actually DOES walk up and talk to them, the character keeps pushing them away. It relies entirely on the other character just having to be that desperate to talk to them for some reason. And again, some characters will be, like I write a Squirrel Girl at another board who definitely WOULD pull someone out of their corner and into the party...but don’t RELY on other people doing that. Instead, try to find ways to make your character have to be engaged, instead of other people making them. See my Shaw example again. Shaw doesn’t normally like to talk to anyone unless he’s giving an order or has something to gain, but I found a reason he would for him. To use another example, there’s a very grumpy guarded girl that I write at another board, she doesn’t trust people or like them to begin with, and I put her on a subway car, aka one of the examples I gave about places where people realistically aren’t going to talk to you. No one talks to each other on subway cars except mentally ill people or beggars, unless you already know each other. So, how did I make it work? Well, I started the thread with just her and a few other people in the car. One of these people was a large man acting in an extremely threatening manner, pacing the car and muttering hostile things and occasionally shouting at the other passengers. It was in NYC, that shit happens. She kept her head down and ignored it, as most people would do, but when he singled her out and began to get her face, she confronted him back and stood her ground. I got things just to the boiling point, then had the subway doors open to let a new passenger in. Whoever stepped in would be walking immediately into a conflict, in a closed-off situation they couldn’t get out of once the doors shut again, and they would have to react to it in some way. If their character was the type to get involved immediately, great. If their character was the type not to, that’s also fine, because I could have the big scary guy turn his attention to them, basically dragging them into it. Either way, my open created a situation to REACT to, instead of just hoping the other person would do it, and it created a situation where interaction could realistically occur, even though it was in a setting when normally it would not. Btw speaking of that---”my muse bumps into yours on the street/in the hall/etc” is rarely a good idea for this reason. What do you think people normally do when they bump into each other? They say sorry, maybe help the other person pick up something they dropped, and go on their way. It’d be very odd if I bumped into someone and they tried to make an entire conversation out of it. Likewise it’d just be completely bizarre to, say, join someone you DON’T KNOW at their cafe table, etc. You can make these work but, as with the subway situation, you MUST get more creative to make a reason why it would work. “YES, AND” OR “NO, BUT” Okay, you got your interaction started, how do you keep it going? Well, there’s this rule in improv theatre for how to keep a scene going, and it’s that all your responses to your acting partners should be “yes, and” or “no, but” What this means is, whatever reply your character makes, it has to give the other character some hook to continue the interaction. Here are some examples. BAD Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: Yes. GOOD Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: Yes, and can we grab some pizza on the way? Joe doesn’t just agree to do the thing, he gives Sally something to reply to and keep the conversation going. And he could do this even if he DIDN’T want to go to the skating rink! BAD: Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: No. Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: No, but I was thinking, do you like the aquarium, how about that? Basically, whether he’s responding yes or no, he’s not closing the conversation. Of course, you do not ACTUALLY have to use the phrases “yes, and” or “no, but” just do stuff that will give the other person something to answer. Here are more good examples: Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: Yes, I loved skating as a kid, but I haven’t been able to do it in years, so I might make a fool of myself! Promise not to laugh? Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: Yeah, that would be great! It’ll be my first time. Do you skate a lot? Can you help me? Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: Hell yeah, I’m the skatemaster! Prepare to eat my rink-dust! Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: No, I hurt my ankle last Saturday, it’s a...long story.  Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: No, and listen, Sally? I think you’ve really misinterpreted our relationship. We’re co-workers, and I think that’s what we should stay.  Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: No, I’m sorry, my mom is sick and there’s just...so much shit going on. I don’t know what I’m going to do if this keeps up.  Sally: Do you want to go to the skating rink? Joe: Are you serious?! That’s what you’re thinking of at a time like this?! I can’t believe you! Some of these are positive, negative, angry, happy, sad, competitive, but they all keep the conversation going better than a “closed” response does.

[blairwaldcrf]

if you know me, no you don’t - dan/nate 2k

Summary: dan/nate alternate to episode 4x02 from Nate's perspective for @bisexualdanhumphrey

Comment and read here on Ao3

Notes: we're pretending here that dan hasn't told lily/rufus yet thanks

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

            Nate Archibald, for better or worse, knew Chuck Bass better than few people on the Upper East Side ever would or could. (Or, especially after the spring, wanted to). This is why he isn’t surprised when the not so little black book contains the contact info of more than females. What does surprise Nate is that he’s almost tempted to use them. He doesn’t. Gossip Girl is always watching, after all. But it tempts him, and the fact he’s tempted at all makes him have more than two girls over one night ala a foursome that tires him out for more than a day.

But being tired doesn’t fix things any more than trying to dry his hair without an expensive blow dryer. So, one night after he finishes his routine call with Dan  in a bar outside of the city and on the outskirts of Chuck’s usual haunts where he’s sure he can get away with it, he hooks up with a handsome brunette.

Nate pretends he isn’t nervous as they kiss, and indeed kissing does help the usual process begin anyway, but Victor-- at least filed under said name in the book-- gives him a smile as he pulls away. “We don’t have to do anything, you know.”

Maybe it’s the permission to just be that makes him finally give in, but within less than a full minute of saying a finally confident “I want to.” they’re in bed and the broken ice lends itself into something much, much hotter. 

Nate had expected things to be both more simple and fast than they were. While he was good enough at foreplay with women, he’d been told it was required by Victor in instances like this. Not that he’s complaining, but it does happen to relate to the fact that he feels more comfortable staying in the bed for a moment in the afterglow of the climax

“I’m not gay, you know.” Nate says slowly, staring at the ceiling. “Not that there’s anything wrong with-- I just mean I really enjoy sex with women and--,”

“Do you think your friend is gay?” Victor asks, an odd expression on his face.

“Chuck?” Nate laughs. “God, no. He’s just-- I mean he’s just Chuck. Pleasure-seeking doesn’t exactly have limits with him.”

Looking for an answer he can’t seem to find, Victor shrugs. “Maybe you’re just seeking pleasure too.”

Confusion is key to Serena Vanderwoodsen breakups, so who was he to say Victor is wrong? Hadn’t he already upped his body count by well more than a dozen in said name of pleasure seeking? According to Serena’s brother Eric, gaydar was a thing and both he and Victor would know well more than Nate about this.

 Lamely, he tries to agree. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. Just trying things out.”

Victor gives him a discerning look that makes Nate jump out of bed in a way he pretended was nonchalant. Nate gives the same easy laugh and pretty smile he gave to all the people who try to claim he’s deeper than a pretty face and left the building feeling more brooding than he had before entering. A little bitterly, he had notes he hadn’t even made it through the alphabet in Chuck’s book and was already a different person like Chuck had unknowingly promised. 

-----------

Juliet Sharp comes as a happy surprise to Nate, an interruption to the increasing craziness he had gotten himself into by worrying too much about his own sexuality. Hard to get like Blair, a coy smile like Serena, and an interesting twist of not being a part of the Gossip Girl elite like usual. When in doubt, let a bossy woman figure it out.

The problem, it turns out, is that she wants to take Dan out from the running for Serena’s heart and while Nate had to admit it would serve Dan a little right after the kiss he doesn’t want to do it. Not really. Still, he lets himself listen to her as easy as if he was listening to Blair back at St. Jude’s. Things are simpler that way, aren’t they? If loving someone as free and accepting as Serena had gotten him cheated on with someone like Dan who knew his own purpose in life so easily, fuck it. Maybe meddling would help.

Seeing Dan is much different than talking on the phone, though. Especially with the singing the Brooklyn guy must take after his mother for. While Dan is no lyricist when it comes to lullabies it seems, he is quite possibly the most adorable thing Nate had seen in awhile and he laughs in a free and familiar way that surprised him after a summer of escaping all family and friends.

Offered Milo, Nate panics. Is he supposed to know what to do with an actual baby? Is he holding him correctly? Sure, he had been around infant cousins before, but those were ones taken care of by nannies just like he was. How was Dan doing this, Georgina? Did that crazy woman even have a maternal bone in her body?

When Juliet takes Milo and Nate gets the chance to be alone with Dan for the first time since they shared a living space, it’s now there. That horribly familiar tug that made Nate nervous every time he felt it. Once upon a time he had felt it when trying desperately not to love Serena the almost entirety of being with Blair, and also now, faced with the one person who had been the ruin of him and Serena in the first place.

After living with Dan he knows things about the “lonely boy” one might miss. That he always wore plaid when he was especially stressed, as if it was a comfort blanket after years in Brooklyn. That if you unplugged his laptop from his charger for any reason he would immediately be angry that it might die and unsave his already thrice saved writing. That he especially hated the Italian place on the corner of his actual favorite spot because they had been racist to Vanessa. That he would normally have dark circles under his eyes after writing too long through the night on black coffee. 

Most of all, he notices that all those things are currently at odds, unplugged charger and all, and that Dan was drowning in the midst of Nate thinking that his newly activated sex life was demanding.

“Are you okay?” he asks, knowing the answer. “I mean--,”

“Oh, this?” Dan laughs sarcastically now that Juliet is out of sight. “Absolutely not. But you know, what other choice do I have?”

“Tell your dad and Lily like I said.” Nate repeats, trying to give the good advice no one ever took him seriously for. Then, with a charming smile: “Afford a babysitter, or even a maid,  every now and then.”

“Thanks,” is the flat response, but Dan’s lips had fought a smile for a second.

Nate smiles further, pulling the same response out of Dan slowly but surely. “Come on, man. You should know after years of Gossip Girl secrets always add badly. Especially the ones involving Georgina of all people.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dan nods, sounding so tired. “But right now I can live in my bubble where I just take care of Milo and have Georgina barking orders at me and no one else can tell me what a mess I’ve made.”

“Did that sound already as bad to you as it did to me out loud?” Nate asks.

Dan did laugh this time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean Milo isn’t the mess, don’t get me wrong, it’s just I didn’t exactly envision this as my life. I was at least supposed to finish my second year of college.”

“I know.” Nate said, and he did. Because while Dan had the privilege of connections to so much wealth and ease of life, he’d never take them anymore than Nate would want to. They both had the same pride and respect for work each other did, Nate admits, it was just that Dan followed through while Nate tended to flounder. 

“Have you spoken to Serena?”

Looking surprised at the mention of the name, Dan shakes his head. “We haven’t talked all summer, she’s doing her Paris thing and I didn’t want her to hear Milo in the background. Why? Did she talk to you?”

“No,” Nate says. He’d hoped the one thing that had always kept them at odds would still be available to push him further yet again. “No, she didn’t. I just wondered. Gossip Girl said she was coming back to go to Columbia.”

“Oh wow.” Dan considers, looking less hurt than the guy who had kissed said girl should have. “That’s-- I don’t know, that’s weird. Shouldn’t she have said something to either of us?”

Nate shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s Serena.”

With an agreeing nod, Dan answers Juliet’s call for yet another diaper change-- how often did babies really need to be changed?-- and the all too pretty girl came in to see him spy on Dan’s phone and spot the text from Serena. 

For Serena and I, he tells himself as he lets Juliet begin a Blair-worthy scheme, but reality has never let him lie to himself for long.

The moment he sees Vanessa cuddle up to Dan like they’re married and Milo is their perfect newborn baby, he can’t help but stop pretending. As observant as Juliet is, she doesn’t know Nate, not really. All she can see is an archetype that she wants to believe in after knowing him for less than even a week. It’s all too easy to let her and pretend that his brooding glare at them is nothing more than anger at Dan for Serena, at least until Juliet’s lie involves Vanessa being shoved at Dan. Telling Juliet to stop, that he isn’t willing that will break hearts isn’t a lie.

… But maybe it was easier to pretend he was having a noble change of heart than to admit how completely jealous he didn't want to be. 

So when Juliet says that Vanessa and Dan had been a great couple, Nate forces himself to admit that of all the former couples on the Upper East Side-- or ones by extension-- Dan and Vanessa had always made the most sense. Grounded Brooklyn loner thing aside, she still had more in common with him than Nate could ever hope to, so if Juliet thought Dan could be happier with her then who was he to stop them?

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

When Dan texts him I know what you told Vanessa, he leaves Juliet waiting without a thought. On the limo ride over, all he can think is how to explain things, what to say, anything to try and figure out how he absolutely could tell Dan that he was sorry without explaining the true reason he did things. Serena, he reminded himself. Just use Serena.

“Let me explain,” he opens with to Dan the second he enters the apartment and can see Dan’s characteristically judging glare, trying, “You two spent the whole day alone together and seemed like you were connecting--,”

“We weren’t alone, we were with you and Juliet.” Dan argues in a whisper.

“Why are we whispering?”

“Milo is sleeping for once. Why did you lie about me?”

Nate tries not to let his stomach drop as he directly asks. “Was it a lie?”

Surely he didn’t have to go through this again, right? Nate has tried desperately to sleep through Manhattan and still have good karma-- his expenses on every one night stand’s breakfast proved so in his opinion-- but here he is, dreading the one word that Dan says next.

“Is this about Serena?” Dan asks, looking confused. “It is, isn’t it.”

“I wouldn’t have even said anything if you hadn’t lied about getting that text from her!” Nate sidesteps.

Dan blinks at him, brow furrowed. “What text?”

“I-- When was the last time you checked your phone?”

God, everyone is right. I am an idiot. Nate thinks harshly at himself. Of course Dan hadn’t done literally anything normal when he was so wrapped up in Milo, takeout, and the disturbing Georgina.

With a glare, Dan snaps, “Obviously not as recently as you have.”

“I’m sorry, Dan. I saw the text and I--,”

Rolling his eyes and putting his phone back in his pocket, Dan sighs. “You’re sorry. I know.”

“Honestly, I don’t even know how I feel about Serena, I just--,” Nate fumbles, still feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

“You don’t have to say it.”

The forgiveness is so ready and kind that Nate has to admit he’s a little taken aback. He isn’t sure when he and Dan had reached that point, the kind where the tension of competition could ease back into friendship. Once Nate had thought he had that with Chuck before he’d really taken a look at who his friend had become. Even then, though, the tension had never been quite the same. “I think I do. You’ve been there for me through all of last year, and--,”

“And I kissed Serena when you two were dating. I honestly probably deserved something.” Dan offers. “Look, if anyone understands the craziness involved with having feelings for her it’s me.”

“That’s not what it was about.” Nate huffs before catching himself, unable to take back the words now they’re in the air. He’d been so frustrated with the situation, with his life, with who he was both becoming yet wanted to be that he had slipped. “I mean--,”

“What was it then, Georgina?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then what, Nate?”

Dan’s brow is furrowed in the way he doesn’t realize is attractive, and in the midst of the quiet argument they had become closer in the necessity of hearing each other, but still not close enough to bridge the gap Nate is terrified of. Praying that Milo wakes up doesn’t work, and he’s worried that if he walks out now it will seem like even more of a big thing than he wants to pretend it isn’t. 

A charming smile won’t work this time. Even as he tries the casual shrug, he can see Dan begin to give a condescending glare to try and pull the truth out. Nate sighs and looks at the ceiling. “Can we just pretend I said nothing and I’ll owe you a favor?”

“Do I look like Blair Waldorf?” Dan scoffs. “Nate, whatever it is just tell me. Nothing’s going to be crazier than finding out Georgina and I made a child together.”

“Wanna bet?” Nate half-laughs.

The confusion dramatically turns to concern at that, and before the brunette could think he had another horrible secret hanging over him, Nate throws it all to hell and kisses him. It isn’t like he expects Dan to kiss back, it’s just the easiest way to explain something that felt impossible to-- well, explain.

Dan does pull back expectedly looking shocked, but he hasn’t completely pulled away from Nate’s orbit who’s a little intoxicated by that detail. “Nate... I’m pretty sure I’m not in Chuck’s book either.”

“Not quite.” Nate manages to get out, having to clear his throat a bit to even do so, nerves about to murder him. “Also, before you try and say it again, this isn’t about Serena.”

“I think I know you better than that.” Dan says softly, nodding. “And I know you well enough to know you’re too good at being a chameleon to your surroundings. I just didn’t know--,”

“This?” Nate offers. “Yeah, me either.”

Nodding, Dan pauses the conversation, eyes lowering with consideration. For a moment Nate thinks he might initiate another kiss but he doesn’t, instead asking quizzically, “Why me?”

“Because you’re the kind of man who would drop everything he wanted in life just to take care of a child you never expected.” Nate replies maybe too easily, gesturing around the messy apartment. “Because even the Upper East Side couldn’t change that when it really came down to it, you were a good person. You care about people and you prove it.”

“Nothing about my charming good looks?” Dan replies with a rather large smile and a casual shrug that Nate hadn’t quite realized he’d learned from him over the years.

Now Nate can’t help but laugh in return, only half hating the fact that he still hasn’t heard anything in response as long as they have this. “Come on, seriously--,”

“I guess we can try serious.” Dan says smoothly, and then they’re kissing again.

 For once Nate isn’t afraid he’ll be considered just another pretty face to boss around.

[prose-for-hire]

Christmas Angel

[This fic is part of my (super late) 12 days of Christmas]

Pairing: Charles Gunn x reader

Request: can you please do a Gunn x reader one shot with the prompts “You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?” and “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not”

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Like one swear. Reader really doesn’t like Christmas. Gunn uses the nickname ‘angel’, just in case you don’t like that lol (it is teasing).

You weren’t big on Christmas. You hadn’t celebrated with any family for such a long time. It hadn’t really been much of a big holiday even when you had. You felt a little trapped back home, which is why you had moved away as soon as you had.

It wasn’t even just Christmas you didn’t enjoy. It was winter. You didn’t particularly like snow once the novelty wore off and you were just sliding around and incredibly cold. That’s why you decided Los Angeles was the perfect place.

You had been a little bit of a loner when you first moved to the big city but you eventually made some friends and found a really great place to work. Saving the World no less.

You had told them dryly that you had expected to get a cape at least with your new job but alas you were just given an empty coffee cup that you were allowed to personalise yourself. You chose not to bother.

Along with your own mug, you were also given a few other benefits. Such as a half-decent paycheck; A stake-licence and, I suppose, bragging rights that you were part of the ‘good fight’. Whatever that meant.

But the biggest draw, the thing that got you up every morning and almost giddy with excitement (that you never let anyone see) was that he worked there too. Gunn.

He was funny, attractive and he had such a big heart. If you were a different type of person you definitely would have swooned whenever he entered the room.

You had a fun relationship, you would bounce off each other. You could tease each other, enjoying the back and forth without taking anything too seriously. Little did anyone know, this was your way of flirting.

You weren’t great with feelings. Vulnerability sickened you and you hadn’t cried in public since you lost your mother in the supermarket when you were five.

You had scoffed at the decorations when you walked into work that morning. It was November for God’s sake. Fred and Cordy had been waiting everyone to arrive and compliment their decorating skills. You bypassed them, going straight for your mug. You identified it easily as the only one that was still plain white.

You made your morning hot drink and listened as Gunn complimented the girls nodding that it was new… and bright. That made you smile. He continued telling to them that he really liked it. But when you turned, you saw that they were all looking at you, waiting for you to continue the compliments.

“Uh, it’s y’know…” You said hoping someone would finish your sentence. You rolled your eyes when they didn’t, “Green. It’s very green”

“Aw, y/n come on. We know you can do better than that!” Cordy persisted, she liked to needle you because she could sense how nice you were really. Underneath it all. Which you appreciated but it did make you uncomfortable. That she saw through your front. The team was fond of you, you never really knew why but you did like them you just didn’t really know how to show it any differently.

“I like green” You stated before turning to the stack of files and sifting through them, sipping from your cup.

Gunn smiled softly as he watched you just walking around doing what you usually would. He really liked you. Wanted to spend the entire day with you, the nights too. His eyes followed you around the room. He didn’t know how to approach you, you were kind of intimidating and besides he didn’t really want to lose what you already had. He saw you as his closest friend, his partner in fighting demon-related crime.

It had taken a while for you to be comfortable enough with him to even tease each other like this. Because it was you being nice, he could feel it. Plus, he had seen you angry. It was scarier than the demons you fought each day.

You looked up and he looked away, towards where Angel had just emerged from his office. He also had to tell the girls that he liked the pretty decorations they had spent a long time putting up. You squinted at him, but shrugged. You thought if he had liked you he would have said something.

No, it was one-sided and you were in deep. Cursed to sail the choppy waters of unrequited longing for as long as this affection would last. In fairness, your feelings for Gunn had lasted a lot longer than the liking you had harboured for any other.

It did annoy you at times, the way you waited to have time alone with him. The way seeing his smile lit up your day. His laughter the most-played track in your mind.

You scanned your eyes down his athletic frame, he was leaning against a desk with his hands in his pockets.

You were staring. Again. You looked around the room, where talk had turned to Christmas plans past and future. Angel had caught your eye, he knew brooding over a love you didn’t think you deserved. If there was ever a person that understood, it was him. He raised his eyebrows at you and you just glared, snapping your eyes away. He smiled, shaking his head.

During this non-verbal conversation, where Angel was willing you to embrace your vulnerability and you were doing the most to get him to read ‘fuck off’ from your face (which he got by the way), Gunn had pushed off from the desk he was leaning against and had made his way over to you.

“Hey, morning, angel” He said this to you. He had started to call you angel teasingly. He did this because you thought it was sickly. And, more personally, because of the affection he held for you.

“I’ve told you before that’s confusing when you work with an Angel” You muttered, but he grinned. That wasn’t why you didn’t like it.

“What about you, huh? What are your plans this year?” He pushed on, ignoring your usual eye roll at him.

“What?”

“Christmas”

“Oh, that” You muttered, hoping you had moved on, “I plan on sleeping through it. Maybe drinking through it. I’m still deciding between the two” You looked up, as if this was a really important decision before getting back to the file you were pretending to skim-read.

It was too hard to concentrate with him so close. He had started to wear a cologne, maybe it was an aftershave you weren’t sure, that smelled so good. You wanted to embrace him every time he was close as it was, but he smelled so good. You wanted to rest your head in the crook of his neck and inhale. Land a kiss, perhaps…

You had zoned out, staring at the space beside the crook of his neck. He waited for you to blink before rubbing the side of his neck in case there was something there. He hoped it wasn’t a demon bug that had bitten him. He really didn’t need to be the next spiderman.

“Why don’t you do Christmas?” He moved the conversation on, not willing to part with you yet.

“Maybe you should ask why you do Christmas? What has it ever done for you?” You asked. You were being unnecessarily harsh on the holiday, you could feel it but you had your reasons and you just didn’t like it, “I like my own company, oh and Santa isn’t real”

“Don’t lie, I met him one year” He claimed which actually made you snort and look up. He smiled, pleased with himself that he had made you smile. He eventually went to his own work area, getting into it. The research was boring, but having you across the room was worth it.

He found himself reading your facial expressions over the book Wes had given him. You were thinking. He wasn’t convinced that you did entirely only enjoy your own company. He hoped that you liked him even a fraction of the way he liked you.

He asked several times through December, trying to gauge just how alone you were going to be. You explained the same thing each time, but every time you said it you could acutely feel it getting sadder and sadder. Until you refused to reply anymore.

Turns out, he heard from Cordy that you really didn’t celebrate. You call home sometimes, maybe buy some kind of discount dessert after the fact, but other than that, nothing. Cordelia would usually invite you places for holidays but you were free of that particular drama this year as she was visiting her family where they relocated after Sunnydale collapsed in on itself.

In the middle of December, your true love gave something to you. A brand new, hot off the presses festive moniker.

“Hey, Christmas Angel, how’s things?” He gestured at you with his head as he asked and you lit up inside. You loved when he came to check in on you. But you kept your face neutral as you replied.

“Dark and dangerous, the usual” You shrugged, before realising what had been said, “Wait, what did you just call me?”

“You answered, so, must be your new nickname” He shrugged, a wide grin as he walked off, “Don’t make the rules!” He called over his shoulder as he could tell you were floundering to respond with some kind of comeback. You could feel the mischievous intent from across the room where he was now sat.

You were still for a moment. The letters of the name pouring like sand through a hourglass in your mind. It was only a matter of time with this and you were starting to feel it.

That nickname was dangerous. It had grown on you. It made you begin to soften. You thought it was stupid, but he said it to you. He only ever said it to you.

He continued to call you this, much to the rest of the team’s amusement (and knowing looks that they shared about you both) through the rest of the month.

You all got Christmas Day off. Even Angel had plans by this point, it was now Christmas Eve after all. Him and Wesley had invited you too, you almost told them that you would rather stick pins in your eyes (the conversation would be dead, not just because of the obvious dig at the other guest). But, you chose, in the spirit of Christmas and all, just to politely decline.

Gunn watched you interact with the others, he saw the mask slip even only slightly. And thus, on Christmas Eve he had started to plan something he had been considering for a while.

Christmas Day rolled around and you were staring at the tv, feeling so very bored. You were almost regretting getting stuck in some dusty read-a-thon with Angel and Wes (you were, of course aware that the men could be fun but it was just easier to say this to convince yourself you were better off on your own).

As you considered calling someone, anyone, there was a knock at the door. You frowned but walked over there. You smiled, pretty wide when you checked through the peephole who it was. You swung the door open and there he was.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?” Gunn shook his head at you and didn’t wait to be invited in. He just walked past you and made himself at home.

“Gunn, you really didn’t have to-”

“I want to. I like spending time with you, anyway” he shrugged, “’Sides I’m just showing you how it’s done” he added a glint in his eye as he took large amounts of food from the bags he had brought with him. It was all going to have to be reheated but you couldn’t stop smiling as he started to busy around your little kitchen. He noted you really had been sleeping through the day. There was a blanket and a pillow on your sofa and the tv remote had been chucked on top as you went to answer the door.

It made him more determined. He didn’t want to think of you alone, no matter how much you insisted you enjoyed it. The only people you were friendly with was the team and ‘friendly’ was a term that could be applied only very loosely.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m only doin this as long as you do one thing for me” He said, keeping a straight face. You frowned, raising an eyebrow which almost made him break. He whipped out some red material from the bag and started to smile. You started to shake your head absolutely not as he maintained, “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not” He pointed at you, brandishing the hat in front of you. You shook your head, trying to snatch it from his hand and throw it away.

He chased you through the house, with you zipping about trying to get him to give up and get rid of the stupid hat. You were having fun, actual fun, on Christmas. You squealed slightly as he eventually managed to tackle you onto your sofa and stop the chase.

You both landed into a heap on your sofa. Basically on top of each other. So close you swore you could feel his heart hammering as fast as your own. He was warm and his smile made you feel safe. Elated.

Laughing. You both were laughing, staring into each other’s eyes. You were so close, you felt your heart start to ache. Nobody had gotten through like this before. Broken down your barriers so much. Made a home for himself within your heart. You had never even let anyone see where you actually lived before.

He took the opportunity, as you were lost in his eyes, to plant the hat on your head. Before you could reach and remove it, he took your wrists and quickly leaned in. His lips crashing against yours. It was a desperate pouring of feelings. Untold and a long time coming. His lips were urgent and loving. Fiery but gentle. This was his one shot, so he was going to kiss you like this was the first and last time he would ever get to be intimate in this way.

He took his chance, knowing well that he could have read the signs all long. But he couldn’t not take this chance. He wanted you. He wanted to spend Christmas with you, because you spend time with the ones you love at this time of year.

His hands slid up your arm, cradling you as you weaved your fingers between his on the other hand. You were lost in this kiss. The choppy tides of longing had calmed, giving way to a deep all-encompassing current. His love, his adoration was pulling you under. And you surrendered.

It was the best Christmas you ever had. The other gifts could wait, the only one that mattered was this. Each other.

[richincolor]

January's New Releases

2021 told 2020 to hold it's beer and what a month January has been! Publishing YA also came out swinging with a slew of new books (many already bestsellers) in what we hope will be another banner year for BIPOC stories. Click below to find books for your TBR list. 

Week of January 5th

The Life I’m In by Sharon G. Flake Scholastic Inc

My feet are heavy as stones when I walk up the block wondering why I can’t find my old self.

In The Skin I’m In, readers saw into the life of Maleeka Madison, a teen who suffered from the ridicule she received because of her dark skin color. For decades fans have wanted to know the fate of the bully who made Maleeka’s life miserable, Char.

Now in Sharon Flake’s latest and unflinching novel, The Life I’m In, we follow Charlese Jones, who, with her raw, blistering voice speaks the truths many girls face, offering insight to some of the causes and conditions that make a bully. Turned out of the only home she has known, Char boards a bus to nowhere where she is lured into the dangerous web of human trafficking. Much is revealed behind the complex system of men who take advantage of vulnerable teens in the underbelly of society. While Char might be frightened, she remains strong and determined to bring herself and her fellow victims out of the dark and back into the light, reminding us why compassion is a powerful cure to the ills of the world.

Sharon Flake’s bestselling, Coretta Scott King Award-winning novel The Skin I’m In was a game changer when it was first published more than twenty years ago. It redefined young adult literature by presenting characters, voices, and real-world experiences that had not been fully seen. Now Flake offers readers another timely and radical story of a girl on the brink and how her choices will lead her to either fall, or fly. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Happily Ever Afters by Elise Bryant Balzer + Bray

Sixteen-year-old Tessa Johnson has never felt like the protagonist in her own life. She’s rarely seen herself reflected in the pages of the romance novels she loves. The only place she’s a true leading lady is in her own writing—in the swoony love stories she shares only with Caroline, her best friend and #1 devoted reader.

When Tessa is accepted into the creative writing program of a prestigious art school, she’s excited to finally let her stories shine. But when she goes to her first workshop, the words are just…gone. Fortunately, Caroline has a solution: Tessa just needs to find some inspiration in a real-life love story of her own. And she’s ready with a list of romance novel-inspired steps to a happily ever after. Nico, the brooding artist who looks like he walked out of one of Tessa’s stories, is cast as the perfect Prince Charming.

But as Tessa checks each item off Caroline’s list, she gets further and further away from herself. She risks losing everything she cares about—including the surprising bond she develops with sweet Sam, who lives across the street. She’s well on her way to having her own real-life love story, but is it the one she wants, after all?

One of the Good Ones by Maika Moulite and Maritza Moulite Inkyard Press

ISN’T BEING HUMAN ENOUGH? When teen social activist and history buff Kezi Smith is killed under mysterious circumstances after attending a social justice rally, her devastated sister Happi and their family are left reeling in the aftermath. As Kezi becomes another immortalized victim in the fight against police brutality, Happi begins to question the idealized way her sister is remembered. Perfect. Angelic.

One of the good ones.

Even as the phrase rings wrong in her mind–why are only certain people deemed worthy to be missed?–Happi and her sister Genny embark on a journey to honor Kezi in their own way, using an heirloom copy of The Negro Motorist Green Book as their guide. But there’s a twist to Kezi’s story that no one could’ve ever expected–one that will change everything all over again.

Roman and Jewel by Dana L. Davis Inkyard Press

If Romeo and Juliet got the Hamilton treatment…who would play the leads? This vividly funny, honest, and charming romantic novel by Dana L. Davis is the story of a girl who thinks she has what it takes…and the world thinks so, too.

Jerzie Jhames will do anything to land the lead role in Broadway’s hottest new show, Roman and Jewel, a Romeo and Juliet inspired hip-hopera featuring a diverse cast and modern twists on the play. But her hopes are crushed when she learns mega-star Cinny won the lead…and Jerzie is her understudy.

Falling for male lead Zeppelin Reid is a terrible idea–especially once Jerzie learns Cinny wants him for herself. Star-crossed love always ends badly. But when a video of Jerzie and Zepp practicing goes viral and the entire world weighs in on who should play Jewel, Jerzie learns that while the price of fame is high, friendship, family, and love are priceless.

The Awakening of Malcom X by Ilyasah Shabazz & Tiffany D. Jackson Farrar, Straus and Giroux (Byr)

In Charlestown Prison, Malcolm Little struggles with the weight of his past. Plagued by nightmares, Malcolm drifts through days unsure of his future. Slowly, he befriends other prisoners and writes to his family. He reads all the books in the prison library, joins the debate team and the Nation of Islam. Malcolm grapples with race, politics, religion, and justice in the 1940s. And as his time in jail comes to an end, he begins to awaken — emerging from prison more than just Malcolm Little: Now, he is Malcolm X.

Here is an intimate look at Malcolm X’s young adult years. While this book chronologically follows X: A Novel, it can be read as a stand-alone historical novel that invites larger discussions on black power, prison reform, and civil rights.

When You Look Like Us by Pamela N. Harris HarperCollins

When you look like us—brown skin, brown eyes, black braids or fades—people think you’re trouble. No one looks twice at a missing black girl from the projects because she must’ve brought whatever happened to her upon herself. I, Jay Murphy, can admit that, for a minute, I thought my sister, Nicole, got too caught up with her boyfriend—a drug dealer—and his friends.

But she’s been gone too long now.

If I hadn’t hung up on her that night, she’d be spending time with our grandma. If I was a better brother, she’d be finishing senior year instead of being another name on a missing persons list. It’s time to step up and do what the Newport News police department won’t.

Week of January 12th

Chlorine Sky by Mahogany L. Browne Crown Books for Young Readers

She looks me hard in my eyes & my knees lock into tree trunks My eyes don’t dance like my heartbeat racing They stare straight back hot daggers. I remember things will never be the same. I remember things.

With gritty and heartbreaking honesty, Mahogany L. Browne delivers a novel-in-verse about broken promises, fast rumors, and when growing up means growing apart from your best friend.

The Meet-Cute Project by Rhiannon Richardson Simon & Schuster

Mia’s friends love rom-coms. Mia hates them. They’re silly, contrived, and not at all realistic. Besides, there are more important things to worry about—like how to handle living with her bridezilla sister, Sam, who’s never appreciated Mia, and surviving junior year juggling every school club offered and acing all of her classes.

So when Mia is tasked with finding a date to her sister’s wedding, her options are practically nonexistent.

Mia’s friends, however, have an idea. It’s a little crazy, a little out there, and a lot inspired by the movies they love that Mia begrudgingly watches too.

Mia just needs a meet-cute.

Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0) by Angie Thomas Balzer + Bray

If there’s one thing seventeen-year-old Maverick Carter knows, it’s that a real man takes care of his family. As the son of a former gang legend, Mav does that the only way he knows how: dealing for the King Lords. With this money he can help his mom, who works two jobs while his dad’s in prison.

Life’s not perfect, but with a fly girlfriend and a cousin who always has his back, Mav’s got everything under control.

Until, that is, Maverick finds out he’s a father.

Suddenly he has a baby, Seven, who depends on him for everything. But it’s not so easy to sling dope, finish school, and raise a child. So when he’s offered the chance to go straight, he takes it. In a world where he’s expected to amount to nothing, maybe Mav can prove he’s different.

When King Lord blood runs through your veins, though, you can’t just walk away. Loyalty, revenge, and responsibility threaten to tear Mav apart, especially after the brutal murder of a loved one. He’ll have to figure out for himself what it really means to be a man.

Angel of Greenwood by Randi Pink Feiwel and Friends

Seventeen-year-old Isaiah Wilson is, on the surface, a town troublemaker, but is hiding that he is an avid reader and secret poet, never leaving home without his journal. A passionate follower of WEB. Du Bois, he believes that black people should rise up to claim their place as equals.

Sixteen-year-old Angel Hill is a loner, mostly disregarded by her peers as a goody-goody. Her father is dying, and her family’s financial situation is in turmoil. Also, as a loyal follower of Booker T. Washington, she believes, through education and tolerance, that black people should rise slowly and without forced conflict.

Though they’ve attended the same schools, Isaiah never noticed Angel as anything but a dorky, Bible toting church girl. Then their English teacher offers them a job on her mobile library, a three-wheel, two-seater bike. Angel can’t turn down the money and Isaiah is soon eager to be in such close quarters with Angel every afternoon.

But life changes on May 31, 1921 when a vicious white mob storms the community of Greenwood, leaving the town destroyed and thousands of residents displaced. Only then, Isaiah, Angel, and their peers realize who their real enemies are.

Week of January 19th

Thirty Talks Weird Love by Alessandra Narváez Varela Cinco Puntos Press

Out of nowhere, a lady comes up to Anamaría and says she’s her, from the future. But Anamaría’s thirteen, she knows better than to talk to some weirdo stranger. Girls need to be careful, especially in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico—it’s the 90’s and fear is overtaking her beloved city as cases of kidnapped girls and women become alarmingly common. This thirty-year-old “future” lady doesn’t seem to be dangerous but she won’t stop bothering her, switching between cheesy Hallmark advice about being kind to yourself, and some mysterious talk about saving a girl.

Anamaría definitely doesn’t need any saving, she’s doing just fine. She works hard at her strict, grade-obsessed middle school—so hard that she hardly gets any sleep; so hard that the stress makes her snap not just at mean girls but even her own (few) friends; so hard that when she does sleep she dreams about dying—but she just wants to do the best she can so she can grow up to be successful. Maybe Thirty’s right, maybe she’s not supposed to be so exhausted with her life, but how can she ask for help when her city is mourning the much bigger tragedy of its stolen girls?

This thought-provoking, moving verse novel will lead adult and young adult readers alike to vital discussions on important topics—like dealing with depression and how to recognize this in yourself and others—through the accessible voice of a thirteen-year-old girl.

Your Corner Dark by Desmond Hall Atheneum/Dlouhy

Things can change in a second:

The second Frankie Green gets that scholarship letter, he has his ticket out of Jamaica.

The second his longtime crush, Leah, asks him on a date, he’s in trouble.

The second his father gets shot, suddenly nothing else matters.

And the second Frankie joins his uncle’s gang in exchange for paying for his father’s medical bills, there’s no going back…or is there?

As Frankie does things he never thought he’d be capable of, he’s forced to confront the truth of the family and future he was born into—and the ones he wants to build for himself.

Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo Dutton Books for Young Readers

“That book. It was about two women, and they fell in love with each other.” And then Lily asked the question that had taken root in her, that was even now unfurling its leaves and demanding to be shown the sun: “Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

Seventeen-year-old Lily Hu can’t remember exactly when the question took root, but the answer was in full bloom the moment she and Kathleen Miller walked under the flashing neon sign of a lesbian bar called the Telegraph Club.

America in 1954 is not a safe place for two girls to fall in love, especially not in Chinatown. Red-Scare paranoia threatens everyone, including Chinese Americans like Lily. With deportation looming over her father—despite his hard-won citizenship—Lily and Kath risk everything to let their love see the light of day.

If I Tell You the Truth by Jasmin Kaur HarperCollins

Told in prose, poetry, and illustration, this heartrending story weaves Kiran’s and Sahaara’s timelines together, showing a teenage Kiran and, later, her high school–aged daughter, Sahaara.

Kiran is a young Punjabi Sikh woman who becomes pregnant after being sexually assaulted by her fiancé’s brother. When her fiancé and family don’t believe her, she flees her home in India to Canada, where she plans to raise the child as a single mother. For Kiran, living undocumented means constant anxiety over finances, work, safety, and whether she’ll be deported back to the dangers that await her in Punjab.

Eighteen years later, Kiran’s daughter, Sahaara, is desperate to help her mother, who has been arrested and is facing deportation. In the aftermath, Kiran reveals the truth about Sahaara’s conception. Horrified, Sahaara encourages Kiran to speak out against the man who raped her—who’s now a popular political figure in Punjab. Sahaara must find the best way to support her mother while also dealing with the revelation about her parents.

We Free the Stars (Sands of Arawiya #2) by Hafsah Faizal Farrar, Straus and Giroux

The battle on Sharr is over. The dark forest has fallen. Altair may be captive, but Zafira, Nasir, and Kifah are bound for Sultan’s Keep, determined to finish the plan he set in motion: restoring the hearts of the Sisters of Old to the minarets of each caliphate, and finally returning magic to all of Arawiya. But they are low on resources and allies alike, and the kingdom teems with fear of the Lion of the Night’s return.

As the zumra plots to overthrow the kingdom’s darkest threat, Nasir fights to command the magic in his blood. He must learn to hone his power into a weapon, to wield not only against the Lion but against his father, trapped under the Lion’s control. Zafira battles a very different darkness festering in her through her bond with the Jawarat—a darkness that hums with voices, pushing her to the brink of her sanity and to the edge of a chaos she dare not unleash. In spite of the darkness enclosing ever faster, Nasir and Zafira find themselves falling into a love they can’t stand to lose…but time is running out to achieve their ends, and if order is to be restored, drastic sacrifices will have to be made.

Lush and striking, hopeful and devastating, We Free the Stars is the masterful conclusion to the Sands of Arawiya duology by New York Times–bestselling author Hafsah Faizal.

Week of January 26th

Written in Starlight (Woven in Moonlight #2) by Isabel Ibañez Page Street Kids

If the jungle wants you, it will have you…

Catalina Quiroga is a Condesa without a country. She’s lost the Inkasisa throne, the loyalty of her people, and her best friend. Banished to the perilous Yanu Jungle, Catalina knows her chances of survival are slim, but that won’t stop her from trying to escape. It’s her duty to reclaim the throne.

When Manuel, the son of her former general, rescues Catalina from a jaguar, a plan forms. Deep in the jungle, the city of gold is hidden, home to the fierce Illari people, who she could strike an alliance with.

But the elusive Illari are fighting a battle of their own—a mysterious blight is corrupting the jungle, laying waste to everything they hold dear. As a seer, Catalina should be able to help, but her ability to read the future in the stars is as feeble as her survival instincts. While searching for the Illari, Catalina must reckon with her duty and her heart to find her true calling, which could be the key to stopping the corruption before it destroys the jungle completely.

The Knockout by Sajni Patel Flux

If seventeen-year-old Kareena Thakkar is going to alienate herself from the entire Indian community, she might as well do it gloriously. She’s landed the chance of a lifetime, an invitation to the US Muay Thai Open, which could lead to a spot on the first-ever Olympic team. If only her sport wasn’t seen as something too rough for girls, something she’s afraid to share with anyone outside of her family. Despite pleasing her parents, exceling at school, and making plans to get her family out of debt, Kareena’s never felt quite Indian enough, and her training is only making it worse.

Which is inconvenient, since she’s starting to fall for Amit Patel, who just might be the world’s most perfect Indian. Admitting her feelings for Amit will cost Kareena more than just her pride–she’ll have to face his parents’ disapproval, battle her own insecurities, and remain focused for the big fight. Kareena’s bid for the Olympics could very well make history–if she has the courage to go for it.

Wings of Ebony (Wings of Ebony #1) by J. Elle Denene Millner Books/Simon Schuster Books for Young Readers

“Make a way out of no way” is just the way of life for Rue. But when her mother is shot dead on her doorstep, life for her and her younger sister changes forever. Rue’s taken from her neighborhood by the father she never knew, forced to leave her little sister behind, and whisked away to Ghizon—a hidden island of magic wielders.

Rue is the only half-god, half-human there, where leaders protect their magical powers at all costs and thrive on human suffering. Miserable and desperate to see her sister on the anniversary of their mother’s death, Rue breaks Ghizon’s sacred Do Not Leave Law and returns to Houston, only to discover that Black kids are being forced into crime and violence. And her sister, Tasha, is in danger of falling sway to the very forces that claimed their mother’s life.

Worse still, evidence mounts that the evil plaguing East Row is the same one that lurks in Ghizon—an evil that will stop at nothing until it has stolen everything from her and everyone she loves. Rue must embrace her true identity and wield the full magnitude of her ancestors’ power to save her neighborhood before the gods burn it to the ground.

[averyrogers83writes]

Happ Birthday Clint

Title: Happy Birthday Clint (part 1) 

Author Name: @averyrogers83writes

Fill & Square: Balloons (8) @clintbartonbingo

Rating: General 

Warnings: Some cursing, otherwise none. 

Pairing: Clint/Bucky

Word Count: 649

Summary: Clint hates it when Nat tries through a party for his birthday...That is until he meets a brunette hottie that seems to hate parties as much as he does. 

Link: 

Six am and like clockwork his alarm sounded. Dreading the thought of leaving the comforts of his warm bed, Clint hit the snooze button. Five more minutes he thought, just five more minutes and then he’ll get up and get ready.  Five turned into fifteen, then thirty; until Natasha finally came in and forced Clint to get out of bed.  

How did she do it? Always so chipper in the morning, it was annoying.  She looked at him with that shit eating grin then turned and walked out of his room as he rolled over and reluctantly tossed his blanket aside and got out of bed.  He had been friends with Nat since freshman year and somehow by their third year she had convinced him that they should get a place together.  He didn’t realize at the time that it meant Nat, her boyfriend Steve, and him.  

Not that he didn’t like Steve, but one could only take some much cute love shit in a day.  If he was being honest with himself. He was jealous of what the two of them had and he wished he had someone to share his bed with.  Sure he dated, he wasn’t a prude. In fact sometimes Nat and Steve would give him a hard time for being such a player.  Most of the people he dated were superficial and couldn’t hold an intelligent conversation with an ant. What he wanted was a real relationship.  One where he could have meaningful conversations as well as mind blowing sex. Unfortunately he couldn’t find that one that held his interest long enough.  Well except the new guy that just started attending the same classes as Clint. Problem was, the guy was just as much a brooding loner as he was. 

Nat and Steve were unusually enthusiastic that morning and they were up to something.  The moment Clint walked into the kitchen their voices were hushed and quickly changed the subject. 

“What are you two up to?” 

“Nothing” they responded in unison.  

He needed coffee, it was way too early for this shit.  He was on his second cup when it dawned on him what day it was.  He moaned out loud. Damn it why couldn’t he have slept past it? With the way Steve and Nat were actually he was sure they were going to try and throw him a birthday party again. If it wasn’t for the fact that he planned a lot for the day he would have just gone back to bed.  

“Please don’t tell me you’re trying to plan some kind of surprise party. Remember the last time you tried that. We still have to fix the wall from where Steve and Thor were trying to figure out who was stronger.”  he huffed. He really hated this time of year. Something inevitably would go wrong. “I’m begging you please Nat, not this year.” 

Who was he kidding. She wouldn’t listen to him no matter how much he begged and pleaded with her to drop it.  Her heart was in the right place, but just trying to have a good birthday just wasn’t in the cards for him. 

Clint went about his day, going through the motions of running errands and just trying to stay far away from the house.  He had planned to find some place to hide out till the next morning, it would have worked too, if it wasn’t for the fact that golden boy Steve somehow tracked him down and followed him around for the rest of the day like a lost puppy.  Surely to make sure that he was brought home in time for the “surprise party” that he wasn’t supposed to know about. 

Right on queue the minute he walked through the door with Steve following close behind the room was billowing with confetti, streamers and balloons. The girl had gone too far this time.

@asthearrowflies​ @shield-agent78​ @clintbartonbingo​ @hotoffthepressfics​ @chuuulip​ @patzammit​ 

[mobius-prime]

227. Sonic the Hedgehog #159

System Reboot

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Josh & Aimee Ray

All right everyone, we've finally made it! After 213 long issues of having him around sticking his fingers into everything, we've reached the final issue that Ken Penders ever wrote for the Archie Sonic comics! Interestingly enough, this isn't actually the final issue he had a hand in entirely - he inked and lettered one final story several issues from now - but since this is the final one he actually wrote, this is where we'll be saying our goodbyes to him. And so soon after Karl left, too! Those of you who know the comics likely know what's coming next issue, so we might as well tear through this one to get to it! Kenders, with your final issue, show us what you got!

So last issue saw Hope lying on the floor injured and unconscious from a blow to the head, and Shadow threatening Sonic if she dies. Sonic then does the most level-headed and reasonable thing a person could do in this situation, meaning he immediately gets offended and attacks Shadow, and they both start punching and throwing each other around while hurling insults in each other's faces. Rosie is quite understandably disgusted with their behavior, and shouts at the both of them to stop at once.

About time! In his lab, a distraught Uncle Chuck reviews the Metal Sonics' technical specifications before lamenting ever creating them in the first place. Rotor reassures him that what's happening now isn't his fault, and reminds him that it's not necessarily the inventor's fault what others choose to do with the invention, obviously hinting at his past with the roboticizer as well. Eggman, meanwhile, finds himself in awe at the sheer destructive potential of the bots, admiring their reckless destruction of Knothole without regard to the citizenry that get in their way, but rather disappointed that he himself didn't come up with these particular models. Shadow, chasing after Sonic, is still worried that they may not reach the doctor in time to save Hope, and he feels a particularly strong connection to her due to her resemblance to Maria, as well as the compassion she showed him back when Locke kidnapped him. This gives him the strength to once again use his Chaos powers in a way he… apparently still doesn't understand. C'mon, Shad, this is hardly the first time you've used Chaos Control, surely you should recognize it!

At Castle Acorn, Elias and Antoine, standing on lookout, are dismayed to see that the Metal Sonics haven't been stopped on their rampage through the center of Knothole, and are on a straight course for the castle where everyone is sheltered. Shadow's Chaos portal abruptly opens behind them, and Sonic hands Hope over to Dr. Quack for treatment, something Shadow begrudging accepts as being the best they can do for now. Sonic, thoroughly annoyed by now at having to deal with such a menace modeled after himself, races back out to fight the rest of the Metal Sonics still bearing down on the castle, and Shadow follows him once again, not content to be left out of the fun. Sonic does his best to take down the attacking force with a whirlwind of his own, but it barely leaves them rattled, and he begins taking some nasty blows, clearly losing the fight. Shadow, coming up on the scene, realizes that despite all their differences he can hardly leave Sonic here to die like this, and raises his hand, emitting another blast of energy that immediately disables all the remaining robots.

Honestly, I'm a little weirded out by the idea of Knuckles of all people explaining stuff like Chaos Control to Shadow, given how hard that role is reversed in the games, with Shadow knowing a lot more about Chaos powers and Knuckles being an isolated loner with no proper knowledge of his heritage or the extent of his abilities. Anyway, with the day saved, Sonic reenters the castle to find Elias holding a medal which he has apparently pulled directly from his ass given the speed with which he's managed to produce it, or otherwise he's just had an award with Sonic's name on it sitting around for a long while for just such an occasion as this. He's awarded the title of Gentleman-At-Arms, something which comes with many privileges that Elias promises to explain later, and then… it's party time! Everyone weirdly acts as though this has been the biggest threat their society has ever faced, despite the fact that barely a year ago a malevolent alien force that had already eliminated civilization on this planet once before tried to suck the entire planet into a black hole, but whatever, we can let them have this one. But what of Shadow? Is he just standing around outside broodi- yeah he's totally standing around outside brooding.

…sorry, Chuck, but what the hell does that mean? What secrets do you apparently hold that are so important that you feel like you have to deviously hide them from Shadow? Like… it's such an ominous-sounding line that means absolutely nothing. By the way, this is where the story ends - absolutely no explanation is given for why the Metal Sonics went on a rampage the way they did. I mean, we know that someone targeting Eggman activated them and sent them after him, but halfway through the story they just kind of switched targets from Eggman to All Of Knothole for seemingly no reason. I suppose you could just say their programming got too scrambled to tell an innocent from their target, but honestly they feel more like a plot device intended to let Shadow discover his own abilities, and therefore something that wasn't well thought out and will be forgotten about by the next issue.

The Despicable Dr. Robotnik: Insidious

Writer/Pencils: Ken Penders Colors: Josh & Aimee Ray

Well, after all the excitement of the previous day, Eggman is looking to recoup at least some of his losses. A.D.A.M. is thankfully online once again, and despite Eggman's sour mood, A.D.A.M. hopes to cheer him up with some good news. He draws Eggman's attention to the nanite fiasco of a few issues ago, and while Eggman is initially unimpressed with him bringing up one of his failures, his interest is piqued when A.D.A.M. demonstrates that the signals the nanites send between themselves can be intercepted by their own equipment here in New Megaopolis. This gives them a direct backdoor into the dealings inside Knothole, and Eggman watches in fascination as A.D.A.M. manipulates some of the nanites in real time while Tommy, Jules, Chuck, and a few others run experiments on them.

Under Eggman's guidance, A.D.A.M. directs small quantities of nanites to "infect" first Jules, then Bunnie, with those two being the main targets due to their inorganic body parts. However, when Eggman tries to order Sonic himself to be bugged, A.D.A.M. points out that since he's organic he can't bond with the nanites, which kind of seems to go against the idea of Tommy doing just that…

See, this bugs me, because I actually put thought into the whole "this is why the nanites can bond with Tommy's shell now" thing, and yet here it's discarded in favor of "I don't know, shells aren't organic or something"? Yes they freaking are, Penders! I researched it! I learned more than I ever thought I needed to know about the biological composition and evolution of turtle shells just to make sure my one little comment about Tommy's shell bonding with the nanites would be accurate! Granted, I get that Mobians aren't exactly the same as the animal species they're descended from, but you'd think the shell of a Mobian turtle would count as similar at least. *sigh*

Well, on that somewhat anticlimactic note, we've finally reached the end of Ken Penders' tenure as head writer for these comics. It's been… well, I feel like saying it's been a wild ride would be a bit of an understatement, but the sentiment is there, at least. And while I know he hasn't been a popular writer among many fans, and I've had my own fair share of criticism for his work (especially the later stuff), I still think it's appropriate to recognize the many good things he brought to the comic, especially the characters and plot points that have by now become mainstays in the world of the preboot. That said, now that we're moving on from the Era of Penders, a lot of the most controversial stuff in the comic is behind us, and we have a bright, interesting, and well-written new future to look forward to! Hope everyone is ready for the excellence that is Ian Flynn, cause here he comes!

[capri-ramblings]

Midnight Beasts, CNCO Imagines +Special Insert

This is a mess,but okay ♥️.

•Richard

He's been your best friend since childhood,and the two of you were inseparable. Wherever little red hood went,her wolf was close to follow.

He was no Big Bad Wolf though. Far from it,really.

He was always afraid of revealing his true self, especially with the person he vowed his loyalty to. In his eyes you were too good for him,too human. Whereas he saw himself as a monster, something to be put down.

"You'll hurt her" This keeps him on edge. Keeps him believing that maybe one day,he will hurt you. And then what? The thought had him baring his teeth and clenching his fists.

You've always wondered why he kept to himself sometimes,how in one minute he's hugging and laughing with you and in another he's built this wall between the two of you. He didn't seem as free as he was when you were both younger. There was a restraint you saw in him but could never manage to figure out. It was like trying to find him in a sea of people but constantly losing him instead. Each passing day,you felt him drift further away from you. You're conflicted; A part of you wants to confront him about it. "What's wrong with you?", "What's happening with us?", "Are you okay?",and then there's the other part, the softer, much less angrier part that's too afraid to force him out of a shell he isn't ready to leave yet.

"I don't want to hurt him" This thought has you staying up late at night,wrapped in a blanket that you wished were his arms instead.

•Erick

You've been in this old town too long to not have known what really ruled over it,or who rules over it. The local Werewolves here didn't even bother to hide it, but you hid the fact that you knew. Mostly because you weren't really interested in getting tangled up in all that drama, and because to be honest,you weren't really interested in them whatsoever. They were all too... Wolfy? If you had to describe it. They seemed to have no control over their Impulses or instincts, always needing to mark what they own and go around howling at night to warn people of their prowess.

They looked like humans but acted more like beasts than ever.

You weren't into the whole vibe of it, of course until the young pack of wolves showed up and butchered literally any prejudices you had for their species in one single clap. Unlike the ones you grew up with, these males knew what being in control was and they did it without being animals about it. There were five of them,all well-built and dominating in their own way, yet they worked perfectly well together. Almost like actual blood brothers. You remember meeting one of them at the grocers once, and how different it was to talk to him. How human and casual it felt.

The other packs hated them with some exceptions of smaller packs joining alliances with them.

If that wasn't enough, you couldn't keep your eyes off the youngest one.

"He's a lil too young for me" You tell your friend at the bar, and yet had your gaze fixated on him like a magnet. He sat at the table right across the room, surrounded by the other wolves. They were laughing and although he was too, he seemed as if he was in an entirely different zone than theirs. Gaze still and hooded, the dark themed club illuminated his forest green eyes like a temple, and when he glanced your way, lingering, you lost your breath and then your heart.

•Christopher

You could train a monkey and it would be more successful than trying to train your overly enthusiastic, optimistic and jokester nextdoor neighbor.

It wasn't that you disliked him, Chris was someone very easy and pleasant to be around. Almost everyone wanted to be his friend and have him cracking jokes at their parties,but you never had parties (never wanted to), you weren't always in the mood for jokes and sometimes having someone who always seemed ready to jump just at the mention of your name was a bit stressful. Still, you didn't hate him.

Unlike all those TV dramas and teen books that portrayed his kind as unstable and constantly on edge, Chris rarely ever lashed out on you or turned to his Werewolf nature. There were days you even doubted that he was one until you almost got mugged once and he lunged in to help you; The happy-go-lucky demeanor he carried gone as he stood in front of you and bared his teeth,eyes bright and gleaming with the intent to kill. You could never get that Image out of your head, but you trusted him, so the fear vanished quickly.

If only the annoyance did as well. *sigh*

He doesn't leave you to your space at all, you don't even think he understands the meaning of personal space. The books and series got one thing right at least; He was protective.

"Jesus Christ,I can walk home perfectly well alone."

"But mi amor, what if someone jumps out from a bush and hurts you?"

"I think someone else is going to get hurt if they don't leave me alone"

•Zabdiel

When you first see him, he has his lips on another woman's. Hands gripping a waist that would break so easily in his grasp as she leans in against him.

His eyes peaking through dark lashes as heavy as the focus dwelling in those deep set of brooding brown gaze.

You watch him and notice how he looks at you as if the woman he held didn't exist.

A voice. A name. Your friend is calling out to you, you turns around,head slightly dizzy as if you've already started drinking.

That night, nothing was as loud as the sound of your pulse beating in your ears each time your mind went back to him.

He's aloof, or seems to be at first, when you meet again it's because your friend was a friend of his and decided to drag you along to hangout. A part of you flinched at the sight of him,this odd sense of intimidation holding your head down, while the other part had you feeling giddy, too excited to say you weren't at least attracted to him. You kept your distance however,never letting your friend leave you alone whether or not he was near. The thought of being around him for too long and without any kind of support seemed all too dangerous.

But,you couldn't keep yourself from stealing glances his way, couldn't help but wonder if he remembers you.

His friends were so friendly, attentively listening and making you feel at ease, all the while he sat on the sofa with his legs parted, and arms stretched across the sofa's headrest. He smiled once in a while, let out a little laugh out of courtesy, but you didn't feel like he was really letting you in. It was more like he placed a mirror in front of it all and leaned against it for the illusion of being friendly.

Now you saw him as an overly powering male with no actual interest in anything other than his ego and image, and you were pissed.

"I think I'm gonna head home first" You tell your friend as you stood up and grabbed your things.

"It's still early tho—"

"I've got somewhere else to go"

You didn't let her say anything else as you bristled pass her, head held high and temper fuming. You weren't entirely sure why but you know he could've at least acted like he was interested just a little bit more, and not as if he was doing it because his friends told him to. As if you didn't exist in his radar at all.

Caught up in your frustration, you barely noticed the male tailing behind you and only realized it a bit too late when you went to open the door but it closed right in front of you instead.

"What?" You swirl around ready to lash out, yet unprepared for the intense gaze that immediately froze you in place.

Zabdiel loomed over you like the sky, expression unreadable.

Your breath hitched, words lost.

He looks you over,eyes deliberately drinking in your form before it shifts to your lips and then straight to your eyes.

He leans in,your eyes shut close.

Then a voice; "There's pizza in the fridge, we're gonna heat it up later. You should stay."

•Joel

"You don't get it" Joel throws his hands in the air, frustration glistening in the brown of his eyes,and you watch as he paces from the sofa to the kitchen counter like an upset child.

"Joelito, you're a werewolf not a three headed donkey,stop stressing"

"How does that make me stop stressing?" He glares at you, eyes narrowed "You're bad at this,I should've went to Ricky instead."

You thought Christopher was a handful but being in charge with a werewolf like Joel was like Hell's kitchen. Anything could be set on fire, and all because he makes it sound like everything was flammable.

Out of all the five, Joel was the one most worried about being what he was. Or at least he acted like the world was constantly ending because of it.

He needed to keep up his image,had to make sure it wasn't obvious he wasn't entirely human. He fussed over every tiny detail. It was overbearing, but you knew he meant well by it. He cared,not only about himself but about the other guys too. He knew how risky it was if people found out,knew what each guy was putting on the line. He couldn't afford to let it slip.

He was grateful you're constantly by his side,he's not going to admit it (even when everyone else already knows) but he's had a crush on you for a long time,and despite it all, he found confiding in you the most comforting thing ever. He could tell you all his secrets and doubts,and not worry about being put down. You understood him, and even when you didn't you always try to understand. You kept him grounded, and he'd risk his life to keep you safe.

•Yashua

He's the one in the gang that doesn't seem to fit like a puzzle piece but brings a whole new charm to it regardless. The loner and at the same time the one who has his Pack's back anytime.

People gather around him, laughing, enjoying themselves, and he always finds a way to loosen up anyone who isn't having fun.

And yet, as you learn to take time and really observe him, you've come to realize how there's this impenetrable wall around him. You notice the little things he does,how he stays quiet and watches any newcomers before really going out there and interact. As if every move he makes has already been calculated.

It took you a whole day to have him actually say something to you, and that was after everything had died down and people were getting ready to head home, he was friendly though. When he told you to take care and stay safe on your way back, you heard the genuineness in his voice and warmth in the way his lips curved into a small smile.

It was funny,but after seeing that you couldn't help but to smile yourself all the way home.

He was charming, and it showed in the way people's eyes lit up when he made jokes and fooled around. He dresses and sometimes acts like he's one of the young pups but you got the feeling it was a cover up. He wasn't as reckless as the younger wolves you knew, and he wasn't dumb either. It showed in the way his gaze would sharpen and dim just a bit whenever a situation happens,as if he's studying it all with a keen eye and an ever keener mind.

The way his body asserts his dominance is loud but the way he keeps to the back of the group during outings and chills around with the older members makes him seem quiet, intense even.

But then again,there's days when he's the loudest of them all, not bothering to hide the fact that he could out alpha anyone present.

He was something hard to decipher, someone not so one layered. Maybe that's why you find yourself falling.

@whymyeyeslikethat @cnco-hq

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #162

Tanabata has come around once again to offer a generation of high schoolers some false hope in order to distract them from the cruel reality that is life. At least, that’s what the old Tomoko might’ve thought. While the world ultimately didn’t hand everything to her on a silver platter, Tomoko’s half-hearted hope did actually manifest into something she holds dear. The question now remains...

What does she strive for now?          

Chapter 162: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Make A Wish

“I wish that Watamote would get a 2nd season!”

Ahem...moving on.

Nothing like a little friendly brooding to start the day.

In a weird, ironic way, Yuri seems to empathize with Tomoko over mutual apathy. The one constant they share is that they both like to take the path of least resistance in life. While Yuri may be a little off the mark at times, having that unspoken bond is a great point to start from.

So we knew Nemo recognized that Tomoko was a former loner, but Yuri, too? Then again, it’s been hinted at before that Tomoko is kind of an open book and that the people around Tomoko are more perceptive of her than she’d like to believe. So yeah, Yuri knew Tomoko barely had friends before she met her (a fact that likely fuels her codependency tendencies). But like any good friend, Yuri stuck around despite that history.

Still can’t get over her casually calling her Yuri-chan.

For a hardcore introvert like Yuri, doing something for the sake of being social with no practical purpose seems illogical. It makes total sense that traditions like Tanabata aren’t really her cup of tea. Just how much Yuri is aware of that is still kind of fuzzy, but no less endearing, 

Reiterating a joke I made in the previous chapter, but Tomoko really ought to take a crash course in psychological projection.

Taking a stab at Yuri’s desires, now...I’d say it would be to have someone who really understands her. Or for Minami to lose her fang. Either or.

Wow, I wouldn’t have figured that Ucchi was the type to write in all caps.

I always wondered if the sugar-sweet and dragged-out way that moe anime girls yell “Senpaaai!” was actually grating by real-life Japanese standards. Looks like I was right.

Now those school fan clubs for the ridiculously attractive girl/guy that you sometimes see in manga are starting to feel pretty legit right now. 

“Pfft, basic bitches,” thought Tomoko. 

Smooth like butter.

You know, I think that Tomoko being unable to come up with something is a solid indication that she’s relatively satisfied with her life right now. Sure, she has career goals and whatnot, but she no longer feels troubled by material desires or short-term gratification. Like Yuri, it may be that Tomoko has more intangible, emotional desires that aren’t easy to put into words. But also like Yuri, Tomoko may have recently already gained that.

Occasionally–just occasionally–a few earnestly pure-of-heart moments from a cute manga girl is all you really need.

...Especially when it’s immediately offset by Tomoko being Tomoko.

Ohhhh, boy. That last comment by Tomoko is opening up all sorts of questions regarding her sexuality. I’ve mentioned before that Tomoko may be dealing with some sort of gender dysphoria and I think that’s becoming more apparent than ever. For one, her totally normal-not-at-all-creepy desire to NTR her kouhai assumes that only a guy could do that to Hirasawa. It also implies that Tomoko would only acknowledge liking girls if she identified as male. Not once did Tomoko consider that she, as a female, could NTR another female. All in all, there’s a bit of internalized homophobia, repressed sexuality, etc. at play here, and it’s going to take a bit of soul-searching for Tomoko to sort it all out.

Once every thousand years, we get some actual chibi art out of this series.

Bless you, Nico Tanigawa.

The best part of this Hirasawa-vision is that Tomoko is drawn exactly the same, just with lighter tones. Hirasawa’s not blind, just optimistic, which makes her heroine-worship so much more earnest.

Normally, super innocent girls like Hirasawa who get overly excited on trivial things tend to rub me the wrong way, mostly because I have a hard time thinking young girls are that simple-minded. But there’s something about Hirasawa that feels genuine. It may be because her excitement feels like its deriving from a sense of loneliness. Like an overreaction from latching onto any lure of female friendship. 

It’s also just cute.

Tomoko...I’m pretty sure that’s your confirmation bias talking right there.

We don’t even need to see anything above the waist, but you can tell exactly who this is based on context alone...

I was wondering how Ucchi actually manages to do that Darth Vader thing with her mouth...

...then I remembered how her face looks and it makes perfectly no sense.

Guys, I...I think Ucchi finally broke.

Actually, Miyazaki, it may not be phrased as a wish, but it definitely is a wish...

I really enjoy the little bits of characterization in everyone’s wishes. For Yuri and Tomoko, like the BFFs they are, they have the same, most basic wish since they don’t really have any other burning desires. It’s also short and sweet, and without any fluff, as they would normally be if speaking out loud. And lastly, Yuri doesn’t leave her last name, as if she doesn’t want to attach herself onto her wish that far. 

Katou, on the other hand, is all giddy and sweet, using words like “hope” and “together” when effectively making the same wish. She uses “we” without naming anyone, making it an all-inclusive wish. Just what you’d expect from the class mom.

Tomoko’s habit of “lying on reflex” actually makes a great deal of sense. She’s the type who has trouble expressing her vulnerabilities, and lying is a standard defense mechanism, just like Yuri’s noncommital attitude, Nemo’s passive aggression, and whatever Katou most certainly has.  

Oh, Yuri, you precious bean. I know jokes aren’t your forte, but your emotional responses–or lack thereof–makes for a great punchline.

Did ya’ll notice how Tomoko’s second wish is exactly what Imae wished for last year? Tomoko may not always make the best decisions when comes to carrying the torch of The Great Megumi Imae, but you can’t deny that she’s making a concerted effort.

Guess Tomoko isn’t the only one with enough nerve to turn a Tanabata wish into a dirty joke...

Damn, we all knew that Fuuka was getting an unhealthy fixation over Katou and Tomoko’s “secret” relationship, but never to the point where it was affecting her studies, and by extension, her after-high school prospects. It hints that the series may be taking this misunderstanding into a direction that’s not entirely played for gags. It’s a risky move because such a development could easily come across as contrived if taken seriously, but if they keep it character-driven a la Ucchi, it could make for some really engaging moments. 

C’mon, Fuuka. How did you think people were going to take that?

Of all of the people who’ve been “corrupted” by Tomoko, Fuuka may be taking the most damage out of all of them. Poor thing.   

Let’s see here...

Sometimes I worry about Itou’s sense of self when she always identifies herself by her relationships with others.

Yo, Komiyama doesn’t even bother mentioning the Lottes by name because “Who else of any importance could it possibly be?”. Never lose faith, Komi.

Sweet, naïve Mike. She (and her boyfriend who’s somehow still kicking) is set up to be this series’ greatest tragedy.

This is Tomoko Kuroki, everyone. The girl who can’t see the raging emoji-faced horndog right in front of her, but will misconstrue a single misunderstanding as a pervert. Selective perception, ain’t it?

Well, it is a great opportunity to anonymously judge people’s inner desires, so Tomoko’s probably right.

Here we go again...

Nice to see that Nemo has practical, but optimistic expectations for her goal. She knows that she’s in her prime and is ready to hit the ground running. 

The thing about Yoshida’s wish is that it implies that she knows she’ll be faced with resistance. Still, I gotta respect her individuality.

Okada’s wish feels like a cry for help if you look at it another way. That’s probably not the case, though. Probably.

That’s the beauty of it all, Tomoko. In the end, you really didn’t do anything. At least, not directly. What you did was make yourself into an example for Nemo to follow. One of Tomoko’s greatest attributes is that she’s unapologetically herself, which is how she eventually got noticed–and in Nemo’s case, admired–in the first place.   

Quakey legs + short people problems = cute Tomoko. 

Aw man, what I wouldn’t give for this to be a running gag. That in all those chapters where Tomoko was all alone, there was actually somebody she knows now that was in the scene, too. It (sort of) first happened with the dick-pics-in-class chapter and the three-legged race guy, after all. Poor Tomoko has all this baggage that can be used against her now.

For those with shitty memory like me...

“I want to lose my virginity in a year so I don’t lose track of my bigger goals.”

Of course, she’d forget about the part that actually mattered.

Well, you know, Tomoko, they do say that every joke/lie has a kernel of truth.

I noticed that a lot of (comedy) manga seems to like elevating the value of losing(or saving) one’s virginity to absurd levels, at least in the inexperienced minds of its teenaged male characters. Tomoko herself has perpetuated this notion in the past. But even so, the “in-universe” outside of Tomoko’s mind never really aggrandizes sex, and I find that it to be a very refreshing change that shows how, in reality, as Nemo suggests, losing your virginity isn’t really that big of a damn deal.  

Good ol’ Tomoko logic at its finest.

Nemo looks...surprisingly serious about that. Normally that kind of talk would catch her off guard a little, but she had no hesitation with that retort. I think that’s solid evidence that Nemo has done more research into the nature of the voice acting industry, especially after Tomoko unintentionally trolled her with that eroge. 

This could lead to even more intellectual (if not openly sexual) conversations between Tomoko and Nemo that go beyond their usual bantering. That’d be pretty lit. 

Well, if Tomoko is a direct reflection of the author, then she probably thinks light novels are mostly for loser otaku trying to live their perverted fantasies through self-insert literature (at least, what I gathered from Write Sisters).

Well, I’m be damned if that isn’t blatant foreshadowing for where Tomoko’s future is headed.

Even though I saw it coming a mile away, it still gives me the warm fuzzies.

As fantastic as it would be for Tomoko to be an accomplished light novelist with Nemo voicing a character in her anime adaptation, I feel like that level of success would be a little out of reach for this series’ approach to realism. 

If I were to look into the future, I’d say that Tomoko would write a light novel that’d be successful just enough to be greenlit for an ultimately mediocre anime adaptation. And Nemo, being a rookie, would either be not cast at all, or be given a bit part for a background character.

Of course, that’s all speculation. As Nemo says, the freedom to dream is the one thing we can count on. And if there’s one thing the mangaka has learned from doing this series, it’s that being realistic doesn’t mean you can’t have a happy ending. 

I guess being considerate/decent to complete strangers is still locked out of Tomoko’s comfort zone. 

I think we found a member of Rena’s family.

Man, the more we get these tidbits of Imae’s legacy affecting the school (and Tomoko), the more nostalgic I get for her. I sincerely hope we get to see her at least one last time before the series is over.

And in tried-and-true Watamote fashion, we get a little bit of Tomoko’s wisdom to end off another thought-provoking chapter.

In retrospect, there wasn’t a whole lot of “action” in this chapter that could be built upon later. It was mostly a series of gags sprinkled with some nice conversation (at least until Nemo’s part). One of the core themes that Nico Tanigawa seems to be playing with is, “Now that Tomoko has come this far, where does she go from here?” And the answer is...

They don’t know. 

Legitimately, I don’t think the mangakas know exactly what Tomoko’s endgame will be. Sure, they have some strong ideas in terms of school and career, but nothing definitive. As s result, I think playing with the gags and jokes a bit more is their way of “stirring the pot” and seeing what comes out. All of Watamote’s greatest developments did originate from comedy, after all. The first Tanabata chapter is a prime example of this, and I have no reason to think that the stars of the second Tanabata chapter won’t shine over Tomoko once again.

[creator-zee]

38

(I can't find the original post)

        My wife squeezed my hand for reassurance as we entered the orphanage. We had traveled via horseback for several days to make it from the prosperous town our castle was in, to the poor outskirts of our kingdom. We had decided that we both wanted to have a child, but since we were both women, having one of our own was impossible without some sketchy magic, so we decided after much debate to make some poor child’s life better. 

         As we climbed the steps I could feel butterflies making their home in my stomach. Could I be a good mom, especially for a child with special needs? Drew would be relying on me l to do most of the parenting as she tended to handle more of the royal affairs. We would share the load, but considering that I wasn’t raised as royalty like Drew it made more sense for her to focus on running our kingdom.

         “You’ll be great.” Drew reassured me, guessing at my inner turmoil.

        “Thanks.” I muttered back. Then we were in the front entryway, and then Drew was talking to the caretaker, and then we were being led to the back rooms. As the caretaker opened the door, my eyes darted from child to child. Small infants wrapped in blankets placed in cribs, little toddlers wobbling around the room older children chasing each other around, a couple of teens brooding in the corner having given up hope of being adopted. 

         The caretaker began introducing the children asking us what age we were looking for, but I wasn’t listening. I couldn’t focus. I let go of Drews hand as I crouched down and a small child walked up to me grabbing my hand. 

          “Are you here to adopt us?” She asked in a small voice.

        “One of you.” I smiled back regretfully. We could only adopt one of these children, and despite the empathy I felt for the teens, Drew and I had come here for a child.

         The little girl had run away to go play with her friends and Drew patted me on the shoulder. 

         “Come on, Bryn. Ms. Hewitt has some suggestions.” 

      I nodded standing up. Ms. Hewitt was leading a girl over to us, she looked about 7, but had oddly defined muscles. When she smiled her bottom canines were oddly long. 

       “This is Jasper, she’s a bit shy, but pretty friendly.” Ms. Hewitt turned to Jasper. “This is Queen Drew and Queen Bryn and there looking to adopt a young girl today.”

         I tried not to flinch at my title, I still wasn’t used to it, as Jasper gave us a shy wave. 

         Drew crouched slightly and smiled at Jasper. “Hey, Jasper. How are you?”

         Jasper smiled shyly. “I’m good. How are you?”

         Drew laughed. “I’m good too.” She patted Jasper on the shoulder. “Do you want to go play with your friends, we're going to talk with a few other girls?”

       Jasper nodded and darted off to go back to her friends. Ms. Hewitt led a few other girls to ya, including the little girl from earlier who’s name was Rose. Each girl she led over I noticed seemed a little off, longer teeth, or over defined muscles, but they all seemed ordinary other than that. None of them seemed “special needs.”

         I mainly stood next to Drew as she greeted each child. I knew I should have participated more, but I was glued to the spot with indecision. How could I possible choose one child to take to a life of prosperity, while the rest had to stay here. My compassion always got me into trouble, and this time seemed no different. Luckily, Drew wasn’t as indecisive and she led me out of the room to a separate office, where we could discuss in private. 

          “You seem pretty silent Bryn, everything okay.” Drew asked, grabbing my hand. 

        I nodded. “Yeah, just indecisive.”

       “Well do you have any opinions, because I’m leaning towards Ira. She seemed pretty nice and polite.”

      I shrugged. “Did you see her with the other kids? She was gloating that she was a choice to be adopted by a queen.”

       Drew sighed. “I suppose not. Then who?”

        I shrugged. “Jasper or Rose?”

        Drew paused, considering. “Rose is a little young. Jasper is about the right age, although she seemed kind of detached.”

         “She’s a loner. Unlike the other kids who all have one close friend she tends to drift around.” I provided. “Unlike Rose or Ira, who immediately ran back to a close friend who they stayed with the rest of the time, Jasper went to a group ten to another and ended up by herself.”

      Drew laughed. “For someone who seemed zoned out the whole time, you were actually paying close attention.”

         I shrugged in response.

        Drew pulled me close and kissed me, before opening the door. “Relax, it's a good thing, now let’s go tell her.”

        I tried to relax, but the butterflies refused to leave. While Drew went over to talk to Ms. Hewitt, I approached Jasper who was sitting on her bed idly messing with a price of string. 

        “Jasper.” I started and she looked up. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

        She seemed surprised, and considered. “I don’t know, a warrior? My whole family were warriors.”

        “How about a warrior princess I suggested?” I suggested. 

         Her eyes light up. “You mean?”

       I nodded. “Yes, you’re coming with us.” I paused, adding. “If you want to?”

        She nodded eagerly, hugging me with surprising strength. “Yes, of course. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

        I hugged her back. “Go get your stuff, together.”

      She nodded eagerly grabbing a bag from under her bed, and stuffing a few stray objects in it, as well as some clothes. All in all, if was very little, but she presented it to me proudly. 

         “All packed.”

         I smiled, grabbing it from her and slinging it over my shoulder. “Great. Now have you ever been on a horse before?”

         Her smile faltered, and I saw her grow nervous. “No, is that bad?”

         “No, of course not.” I reassured. “Would you like to ride with me back?”

        “Like on an actual horse.” She asked, excited now that she wasn’t afraid of her ineptness stopping her from being adopted. “Really? I could learn to ride?”

       I laughed. “Yes, on a real horse. And I can teach you to ride later, but for now you’ll just be with me.”

        She hugged me again. “Yes, Yes, Yes.”

        I smiled as Drew came up behind us, resting her hand on my shoulder. “We’re all good to go.”

          “Okay, Jasper’s ready.” I looked down at her. “Drew’s all ready. Are you ready to go to your new home?”

        “Yes, Mom.” She hesitated. “Can I call you Mom?”

        “Yes, of course.”

        Drew lead the way out and Jasper walked in front of me, pointing to Drew. “And she’s Mama.”

         Drew nodded. “Yes, I’m mama.”

        Once outside, I grabbed Jasper’s hand to make sure we didn’t get separated , as I followed Drew through the crowd of people to the stables outside of the town where we had left our horses. 

        As Drew opened the stable door, Jasper gasped. “Horsies!” She turned to me. “Can I pet them?”

       I nodded. “Yes, come on. You can pet my horse, Clover.”

        I led Jasper over to where Clover was tied. As Jasper stroked Clover, I turned to Drew.

      She was right behind me and poked my nose playfully. “Told you, you’d be a good mom.”

         I blushed. “Well...”

        She slapped me lightly. “Knock it off. You’re great, now help me with the saddles before a groom tries to do it for us.”

        I laughed. “Oh, the horror. Having someone do something for you.”

         “Oh, be quiet.” She muttered and stalked away.

          I turned to Jasper who was still transfixed by Clover. “Can you stay here with Clover? We need to get the saddles.”

        Jasper nodded, and I set her bad down next to her.

        I followed Drew around the corner and grabbed Clover’s tack. When we came back around the corner, Jasper was waiting patiently, petting Clover. 

      �� “Want to help me with this?”

        Jasper nodded. 

         I shifted the saddle in my arms and handed her the saddle pad. “Put this on his back and slide it back to his whither.”

        Jasper nodded and complied. 

        “I’m going to go the saddle now.” I put the saddle up on Clover’s back then grabbed the girth and tightened it, explaining what I was doing as I went. I moved to put the bridle on and Clover accepted the bit easily. 

          I pulled the reins back. I grabbed Jasper’s bag and handed it over to Drew to tie to the back of her saddle. She accepted and began leading her made out of the stable. I followed motioning for Jasper to follow. Once outside in the daylight, Drew mounted up moving her mare to the side. I pulled Clover to a stop and turned to Jasper.

       “Do you want a boost or do you got it?” I asked her. 

        She eyed the stirrup nervously. “I think I need a boost.”

         Okay. I hung the reins loosely around Clover’s neck, trusting that he would stand still. I grabbed Jasper around the waist and lifted her into the saddle. She swung her legs over and grabbed desperately onto the saddle horn. 

         “Relax, Jasper. He can sense your nervousness.” I put my foot in the stirrup. “Now hold on tight I’m going to swing on behind you.” I slid into the saddle behind Jasper reaching around her to grab the reins. “Ready?”

         “Yeah.” She nodded. 

          I turned to Drew. “Let’s go.”

           Drew nodded, kicking her mare I to a walk. I followed suit and we began down the road. The journey back would take longer because we could only walk with Jasper riding in front of me, but it was worth it. 

38.1

          The sun dipped below the horizon casting a rosy glow over the fields that the dirt road cut through. Drew pulled her mare to a halt and I did the same as we came even. 

         “We should set up camp for the night.” Drew suggested. 

          I nodded. I glanced down at Jasper who had fallen asleep. I looked around, noticing that the plains left us open from each side. We may both be wearing cloaks over our riding clothes to hide our identities but there was no guarantee that people hadn’t noticed.

         “It’s too risky to set up camp in the middle of these plains. We’re in the open.” I warned.

           Drew sighed. “What do you suggest then? We can’t just ride all night.”

        “I know.” I scanned the horizon and spotted a grove of trees. I pointed. “Let’s go there and set up camp. It’s more guarded and should hide us form view.”

         “Okay.” Drew smiles at me. “I can always trust you with our safety. Don’t even need a guard.”

         I raised my eyebrows. “We should have a guard with us. We are the Royal family, people do want us dead.”

         She shrugged. “We’re fine, Bryn. Don’t worry.”

          “I’ll try.”

           By the time we reached the grove of trees. The sun had been replaced by the moon and starlight guided our path. I turned Clover off the road and into the trees. Drew followed behind me. Once we were in the middle of the grove I carefully dismounted and grabbed Jasper off too. I set her gently on the forest floor against a tree, and returned to Clover. I slipped his bridal off replacing it with his halter and led him over to a different tree, tying him. I untied the saddle and set it on the horn on the ground, untying my bedroll. Drew copies my actions on my left. We worked in silence, both tired. 

          I turned once I was finished and lay the bedroll on the ground. I moved Jasper onto the cloth pulling the wool blanket over her. Drew lay hers out next to mine and sat down, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me down on top of her. 

        “Huddle for warmth?” She suggested wryly. 

         I waited in her gasp to face her. “What about Jasper? Won’t she get cold?”

         Drew shrugged. “It’s not that cold, it is summer.”

         I sat back on my heels moving away from Drew. “Then you don’t need me for warmth.”

         Drew grabbed my shoulders pulling me back down. “I changed my mind it is cold give her your cloak, so you’re forced to cuddle with me for warmth.”

        I sighed. “Fine you win.” I sat back on my feet again, slipping off my cloak. I laid it gently over Jasper, before turning back to Drew and laying on top of her. Drew grunted as my weight pushed the air out of her lungs. 

         “Really Bryn. Why is cuddling so difficult with you?” She complained. 

       I grinned impishly but moved o the side, letting her wrap her arms around me and pulled her cloak and blanket over us. It didn’t really fit, but between the warm summer night air and our shared body heat we were comfortable enough and I drifted off into sleep. 

38.2

         I strode through the castle halls with my personal guard following behind me. “You’re sure you’re okay with this Mickey? I know being a babysitter isn’t exactly in your contract.”

          “Relax, your highness. I’m happy to help with Jasper.” Mickey assured me.

       “I told you to call me Bryn, and thanks again.” I sighed. “I just don’t know how to help her. She’s, uh, she’s not like other kids.”

        “How so?”

        “She’s, well, uh, she is an, uh she’s not like us.”

         “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

         “She’s an orc.” I eventually blurted. 

        “Oh.” Mickey seemed taken aback, and rightfully so. 

           “Yeah.” I paused outside of the door, before pushing it open revealing Jasper in her room. 

          Jasper looked up when she heard the door open. “Mom? You’re back. I thought you went with Mama.”

          I shook my head. “Nope, I just went to get Mickey.” I gestured to Mickey. “She’s going to help take care of you while Mama and I are busy, so you’re not alone.”

           Mickey slipped her helmet off setting it aside, holding out a hand to Jasper. “Pleasure to meet you, Princess.”

          Jasper blushed, shaking Mickey’s hand. “Just call me Jasper.” She êtes Jasper’s armor. “Can you teach me to be a warrior?”

         Mickey laughed and glanced at me. “If your Mom says that’s it's alright.”

         I shrugged. “I don’t see why not as long as your safe.”

         “Yes!” Jasper exclaimed. “When can we start?”

         “How about Monday?” I suggested. 

        She nodded eagerly. “Alright.”

38.3

         I parried Jasper’s blow with the wooden practice sword I was using. She continued to try to land a hit with her wooden sword while I easily blocked all of them. Jasper has brute strength but no technique. Mickey was working on that with her and was currently watching from the side offering pieces of advice. I was busy walking the delicate line between fighting back enough to be a serious opponent but not too much to be too harsh.

         I decided that too harsh was better than too easy. I knocked her next attack away and use her momentum to spin her around. I pulled her against me holding the practice sword against her neck. I let her go after a few seconds.

         “Good job Jasper, but why don’t you practice the techniques on a dummy for a bit.” When I saw her disappointment. “We can dual later, but for now I need to train some of the Royal guards.” I sighed. “Royal duties call.”

          Jasper sighed, still disappointed. “Okay, but promise we’ll dual later?”

          I nodded. “Yes of course. I gestured to the other side of the training field. I’ll just be right over there.” 

         Jasper nodded and scampered off to where Mickey was standing next to a practice dummy. I left, as I said I was, to the other side of the field to train with the guards. Officially, Cameron was the captain of the guard, but I often acted as the captain along with Cameron. Cameron smiled at me as I walked over. He sheathed his sword and gestured to the guards who were paired off and dialing. 

        “Care to spar, Bryn?” Cameron was one of the few people who actually respected Bryns wish to drop her title.

        I nodded. “Yes, of course, Cameron.”

        He drew his sword and jumped down from the wooden box he was using as a podium. I drew both my blades and squared up to him. We exchanged blow after blow, even with each other until Mickey interrupted us. 

          “My queen, Jasper needs you.”

          I stopped turning, as Cameron sheathed his sword.

        “What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly. 

         “She accidentally broke something, and is upset.” Mickey explained. 

          “Uh, Okay...” I panted, still catching my breath. 

          I sheathed my swords and followed Mickey over to the corner of the trading ground where they had been working. When Jasper saw me she ran over, tears streaming down her face. 

           “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, please don’t get mad.” She pleaded.

           I knelt down so I could hug her. “Hey, it’s okay Jasper. Calm down.”

          I looked over and saw that the mannequin, they had been practicing with was beheaded.

           “That dummy was old and damaged. It’s not your fault it was bound to break.” I assured, Jasper. Albeit, it would have made more sense for a full grown warrior to break it not a 10 year old child who had only been training for one year, but Jasper wasn’t ordinary. As she grew her Orc characteristics had grown more apparent. Last year it had become undeniable with her underbite and growing lower canines that would eventually become the tusks of a full grown orc. She was taller than most 10 year olds and much stronger. When she was a teenager, I had no doubt that she would be stronger than our strongest warriors.

          It didn’t matter that she had only been with us for three years, or that she was an orc, she was family and she was still a child, so I comforted her, assuring her that it wasn’t her fault and that I wasn’t mad.

[derangedangel]

❤️❤️❤️ - Scott, Derek, & Stiles

Summary: Three mini love imagines about Scott McCall, Derek Hale, & Stilies Stilinski (emoji title because I didn’t know what to call it)

Word Count: 3,018

Author’s Note: I had the idea for this last month when I was coming up with Valentine’s Day captions for my job’s social media pages. I tried to keep them short but... also, on Valentine’s Day it’ll be two years since I started posting imagines AND this is my 50th post. Yay me!

And this where my masterlist would go if Tumblr wasn’t buggin about links

love 

/ləv/

noun

1.an intense feeling of deep affection."babies fill parents with feelings of love"synonyms:deep affection, fondness, tenderness, warmth, intimacy, attachment, endearment;More

.a great interest and pleasure in something."his love for football"synonyms:liking, weakness, partiality, bent, leaning, proclivity, inclination, disposition

verb

1.feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone)."do you love me?" synonyms:be in love with, be infatuated with, be smitten with, be besotted with, be passionate about

"He was Christmas morning, crimson fireworks, and birthday wishes." — Raquel Franco 

Before you even started dating Scott McCall, you knew he was perfect. He was what poems were written about. The type of guy Taylor Swift would fawn over in one of her songs when she was still considered a country artist. Cool lemonade on a hot day in the middle of July. He was... everything. 

Scott and you were friends because both your moms worked at the hospital in the emergency room together. After Scott’s dad left and Melissa had to start working double shifts, Scott would spend a lot of time at your house. Your dad would cook you both dinner and make sure all your homework was done, before Melissa would come over bone tired to take him home. 

There was a time in middle school where your aunt flow decided to make her first visit on your birthday, so your mom let you stay home from school. Of course, Scott texted you to make sure you were alright. You told him you were sick and staying home for the day, but you would be back tomorrow. Around 4 o’clock that evening, Scott McCall showed up to your house with balloons and a gift just for you. You were so shocked when your mom brought Scott to your room, the balloons hardly fitting through the door and Scott’s crooked jaw smile shining brightly. Scott spent the rest of the evening with you and your family. Your mom made your favorite food and bought your favorite cake. After you blew out your candles and looked around at all the people who loved you, your smile grew bigger at the sight of Scott.

Another time during Christmas, Scott’s mom was working the night shift on Christmas Eve. He was going to spend the night at your place, then his mom was going to come over in the morning after work and open presents with your family. You were super excited that Christmas because you got your mom a crystal figurine you accidently broke the year before. The only issue was you somehow broke it again and were gift-less for your mom. The store you bought the gift from didn’t have anymore. You told Scott about your problem a few days before and he went with you to find a new gift for your mom.

When Christmas morning came, you and Scott eagerly waited for Melissa to get off work and come over. You and Scott being the youngest go to open your presents first. You were thirteen and the magic of Santa was gone, but you still got a good amount of gifts. After, your parents exchanged gifts and Scott gave his mom hers. You knew your mom would like the gift you got her, but you felt bad for breaking her crystal figuring for a second time and she didn’t even know it.

“Y/N,” Scott said elbowing you in your side. “Don’t forget your gift for your mom.”

You crawled closer to the tree and reached for the spot where you put her gift, but the gift you wrapped wasn’t there. The card on the gift that was in its place was the same, but the wrapping was different. You looked at Scott confused but he waved his hands for you to give your mom the gift.

Her mouth dropped when she opened it. It was the crystal figurine you wanted to get her. You looked quickly at Scott knowing he had something to do with it from the slightly off wrapping, but you didn’t say anything yet. When it was just the two of you, he explained how he looked everywhere for the gift with his mom. You hugged him so tight, you pushed all the air out his lungs and he needed a puff of his inhaler afterwards. You had no idea how you got so lucky to have a friend like Scott.  

On the fourth of July your senior year, you and your friends decided to drive to the beach to celebrate. It felt like during the summer all the supernatural occurrences were taking a break just like you all were from school. The pack thought it would be alright to leave Beacon Hills for the day. All your beach towels and chairs were set up to give you guys your own little area. The cooler was packed to the brim with water and sodas. Lydia had her music playing from her portable speaker. Stiles had a mini grill with him, which you and Scott didn’t think was safe or legal for the beach. The day was perfect... well, except for the mini fire that Stiles started but thank God the beach patrol didn’t see it. 

At the end of the day, your fingers were all pruned up and you were stuffed with burgers and ice cream. The fireworks were going to shoot up from off the pier that was nearby. Malia was burring Liam in the sand with Mason. Lydia was cuddled up with Stiles in a beach chair. Scott and you were sitting in the sand while you buried and unburied your feet. 

“You wanna go for a walk,” Scott asked you.

You dusted the sand off your legs and stood up. The two of you started walking in the opposite direction of the pier since it was more crowded the closer you got. 

“I’ve got some really good news I just found out the other day, and I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you,” you said after the two of you walked for a few minutes.

“What is it,” Scott asked.

You were biting back the huge smile that wanted to take over your face. “I got off the wait list,” you said as calmly as you could muster. So calmly, Scott didn’t fully realize what you meant. “Scott, did you hear me? I got off the wait list,” you said louder.

It clicked in Scott’s head what you meant and he repeated what you said back to you. “You got off the wait list.” He grin spread wide across his face as he threw his arms around you and picked you up. “Oh my God, Y/N, that’s great!”

“I know! We’re going to the same college.”

Scott put you down but your arms were still on his shoulders and his around your waist. “Why did you wait to tell me?”

“I only found out a few days ago. I had to take it all in first. I didn’t believe it when I got the email.”

“Wow…,” Scott sighed looking down at you. “This is going to be amazing. I get to go to college with my best friend.”

“I know right,” you replied. Your teeth were shining like they were in a Colgate commercial and Scott’s mirrored yours right back.

Suddenly, you both heard a loud booming noise from behind you. Both of you turned your heads and saw the bright fireworks exploding over the ocean. You turned your head back to look at Scott, but he was already staring at you.

“This is amazing,” you said softly talking about the fireworks and the moment in general.

“It is,” Scott said in the same soft voice you used. You could see the sapphire, indigo, and crimson light up Scott’s chocolate eyes. Slowly, the two of you leaned into each other. Your hand slid up to his neck pulling him in. Both of you were hesitant, but you both wanted the kiss just as much as the other. Scott’s lips were better than you imagined when they finally touched yours. They were soft from all the SPF 25 Chapstick he had been applying all day. His breath was surpassingly minty despite the large amount of barbeque you saw him scarf down earlier. Scott’s arms tightened around your waist without pulling you too tightly stopping you from over analyzing every detail of the kiss.

The fireworks were still exploding overhead when you pulled away. You were at a loss for words. You just kissed your best friend.

“I’ve heard of seeing fireworks when you kiss, but… wow,” Scott said causing you to giggle as you laid your head on his chest. Freshman year of college just got a little more complicated, but Scott McCall was the perfect kind of complication.

"The real lover is the man that can thrill you by kissing your forehead." — Marilyn Monroe 

To everyone else, Derek Hale was the brooding werewolf with the tragic backstory. The troubled loner. Not to you. To you, he was sweet and caring. The two of you weren’t really together. Just friends who both wanted a little more. You were waiting for Derek to ask you on a date, and Derek was waiting for... the right time. There was always a supernatural issue in Beacon Hills, so to him, it was never a right time. 

You were sitting on the couch in your apartment watching Derek grab his belongings before he headed out. Derek stopped by when you told him you cooked way too much five cheese rigatoni. He didn’t normally get a lot of high quality home cooked meals at his loft, so he was quick to come over and fill up on your food. 

“I’ll see you later,” Derek said right before he kissed your forehead. The butterflies in your stomach rumbled a mile a minute from the simple jester. You didn’t understand it. Derek was a werewolf. You know he hears your heart rate speed up when he does things like that, or smells your chemosignals. Unless he doesn’t like you like that. You brain started to panic. Were you making up the shared feelings you thought were between you and Derek.

“Y/N,” Derek said staring down at you. Somewhere between all your overthinking, he walked back to you and was now standing in front of you. “Are you okay?”

“Oh umm...” you said fidgeting in your spot. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“Are you sure? You kind of went somewhere else for a minute, and I could smell the anxiousness on you.”

“Do you like me,” you asked suddenly looking up at him. You didn’t know where that burst of confidence came from but you couldn’t deal with all this will he won��t he tension anymore. “I mean like, as more than a friend.”

Derek’s eyes grew in shock as he moved back a little. “Y/N,” he said awkwardly as he was at a loss of words. “I- you’re my best friend-”

You quickly cut him off. “That’s not what I asked Derek. It’s a simple yes or no answer,” you said getting more nervous by the second which was making your response come out a little cranky. 

“Why are you suddenly asking me this,” Derek asked avoiding responding. He wasn’t sure why though. Of course he liked you. He was half way in love with you if he was being honest with himself. 

“You’re avoiding the question, Derek,” you said as you readjusted yourself on the couch, placing a pillow in front of yourself as some sort of protective barrier. “But if you must know, it because I know you know that I like you. You’re a werewolf, damn it! I just felt my heart pounding in my chest from when you kissed my forehead. I’m tired of ignoring my feelings or waiting for you to say something when you’re obviously not going to.”

“I was waiting-”

“For what,” you asked, the creases in your forehead getting bigger as you got more annoyed.

“For the right moment,” Derek yelled back at you tired of you interrupting him. “I’m a werewolf, Y/N. There’s always something or someone trying to kill me and I hate that you’re already involved in my mess as much as you are.” 

Derek cooled down the more he talked. He sat down next to you on the couch and your shoulders slumped while you began to fiddle with the edge of the pillow in your lap.

“I just wanted everything to be normal, or at least as normal as it could get for me,” Derek continued rubbing the back of his neck. 

“But fighting for your life is normal for you,” you pointed out.

“I don’t want it to be though. And I don’t want that for you. I don’t want to risk your life, because another werewolf wants to get to me.”

“We’re best friends, they would probably already do that,” you argued.

“I’m not going to put you at risk,” Derek said, his mind already made up.

“I’m already at risk,” you said, your eyes narrowing. “This is Beacon Hills,” you said gesturing around your apartment.

Derek sighed defeated in this debate he was having with you. The both of you were stubborn and had valid points but wouldn’t let up.

“Derek,” you said softly placing your hand on his forearm. “At the rate we’re going, if you wait til Beacon Hills is safe and doesn’t need protecting anymore, I’ll be waiting forever for you to make a move.”

Derek’s lips pulled tight into a straight line as he took in what you said. He was staring across the room instead of making eye contact with you.

“You’re right,” Derek agreed.

“What,” you asked not sure if you heard him right. You tilted your head trying to see the expression on his face better.

“You’re right,” Derek repeated looking at you now. “There’s always something going on here, or someone after me. If I want to be with you, then I should be with you.”

“Wait... are you serious,” you asked confused while you squinted your eyes at him. “My little speech actually worked?”

“Yeah,” Derek said chuckling. 

Your lips grew into a smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t actually think that would work. You’re pretty stubborn when you think you know what’s right.”

“I’m going to attempt to not take offence to that.”

The lines around your eyes crinkled more as your smile grew bigger. “You can take it however you want as long as you take me out on Friday night.”

"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun. ― Jane Austen"

For some reason, you and your boyfriend Stiles were in a debate about who loved who first. He insisted he fell for you in the sixth grade before the two of you even started dating, but you argued at 12, he couldn’t possibly know what love was. Those were just puberty hormones. 

You were convinced you knew on your second date. He was going on and on about how Star Wars was better than Star Trek, and you thought you could listen to that boy blabber all day. 

Then you remembered it. It may not have been the exact moment, but it was probably the one that started all the others. 

“The third grade,” you said out of nowhere.

“What,” Stiles asked confused.

“It was the third grade,” you said getting up from the floor of your bedroom where you and Stiles were sitting and went over to your closet. You grabbed an old shoe box from the top shelf and sat back next down to Stiles with your legs crossed.

“In the third grade,” you continued, “on Valentine’s Day you gave me a card.” 

“I gave everyone cards, it was Valentine’s Day,” Stiles said. He was laying on his back before, but he rolled over to give you his full attention now. 

“Don’t be a smartass, I’m going somewhere with this.”

“Okay. Okay. Sorry, babe. Continue,” Stiles said gesturing to the box on the floor.

“Thank you,” you nodded. “Anyway, you gave me a card with a poem on it. And I knew then and there, we were going to be together.”

“You knew that from a Valentine’s card written by a nine year old?”

“Don’t down play yourself, love. You may babble and get off topic now, but you had a way with words then.” You finally found what you were looking for in the box. “Ah, see,” you said handing the card to Stiles.

“You kept this,” Stiles asked looking at you in awe. 

“Yeah,” you shrugged smiling back at him. “That was the most genuine Valentine’s Card I had ever gotten. I just remember still being embarrassed from that history assignment we had to do it class. It wasn’t much because we were in the third grade, but everyone laughed at me and I was so self-conscious after that. But what you said in that card made me feel so much better.”

Stiles looked down at the handmade card. “I sort of remember making this. My dad was supposed to take me to the store to get some cards, but he was so stressed with work he forgot. I had to make them all by hand the night before.”

“And of course you did Star Wars themed ones,” you giggled taking the card back from him. You fiddled with the card in between your figures admiring his childhood handiwork. 

Stiles just watched you stare down at the card he made you all those years ago. Maybe it was sort of a cliche unrealistic love story. Not many people could say they met the love of their life in elementary school and got together in high school.  

“I love you,” Stiles said in a soft tone, his gaze leaving the card in your hands and landing back on your eyes.

You smiled lazily at him. No matter how many times you heard him say those words, they would never get old. “I love you, too.”

You edged closer to him, leaning down as he reached up and pressed his lips against your gently. It was a short kiss that wasn’t planning on turning into anything else. But the moment was definitely ruined when blew a raspberry into his mouth then cracked up laughing. 

“Real mature, Y/N,” Stiles said annoyed but still smiling at you ruining the moment. 

[sgtbuckyybarnes]

Homecoming - Chapter One

Aching with grief after the loss of her mom Noelle Bamber finds herself heading back to the only place where she truly felt at home, to the Southside Serpents. But in Riverdale everything has changed. The place of solace she had sought out seems to have gone up in flames...

A Jughead x OC x Fangs fanfiction

(ff.net) (prologue)

Clutching onto the strap of her bag Noelle took a deep breath in through her nose as she stared up to the front doors of Southside High.

She was nervous.

She hadn’t planned for feeling nervous.

Furrowing her brow she bit down on her bottom lip and pushed herself to take more steps forward. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t know people in there! Fangs was in there, Sweet Pea, Toni...all the other serpents.

“Bag in the tray,” a bored sounding man dressed in a security outfit said as she passed through the metal detector with no issue. Snatching it up almost as soon as she let it go he held it away from her as he unzipped the top and rifled through the contents “All good,” he said shoving it back into her arms.

“Hey, thanks!” Noelle answered with a sarcastic smile as she slung her bag back onto her shoulder. Her eyebrows raised and an actual, genuine smile appeared on her lips when she spotted a familiar flash of pink hair “Oh thank god you’re here,” she said with a sigh of relief as she caught up with Toni and slipped her arm through her friend’s “I thought I’d have to hunt you out.”

“As if I’d let you arrive alone,” Toni replied with a roll of her eyes as she nudged Noelle’s side with her elbow “Not that I thought you’d be nervous or anything,” she added with a teasing glance.

“Shut up,” Noelle answered with a roll of her eyes, the two girls spinning on the spot as they heard the sound of the metal detectors wailing.

“It’s the pins on my hat.”

“Aha, your fellow newbie has arrived,” Toni said squeezing Noelle’s hand to encourage her to turn back around to face the doors.

“And here’s me thinking I was special!”

“You’ll always be special to me Bambi,” Toni teased reaching over and pinching Noelle’s cheek, dodging passed her arms as they tried to bat her away “Okay, okay come on,” she continued when she spotted that the next student she was waiting for was finally done with the door security “Forsythe Pendleton Jones III.”

The name caught her attention almost immediately and she turned around just in time to see the confused look on the dark haired boy’s face at the sound of his full name. Even as a Serpent who had been gone a couple of years she knew how special FP Jones and his family were to the gang.

But there was also a different hint of recognition as he looked over to them and his green eyes locked with hers.

“Uh it’s Jughead, actually.”

Noelle’s nose wrinkled up slightly “Really?” the question left her lips without her brain catching up to go over whether or not it was entirely appropriate or said in the right tone “I mean…”

“I’m Toni Topaz,” Toni hurried forward, pushing Noelle behind her “And this is Bambi.”

Her eyes rolled and she shoved her friend out of the way once more “Or you could call me Noelle like a normal person,” she said holding her hand out to shake Jughead’s “Noelle Bamber,” she said smiling to him. There didn’t seem to be that hint of recognition she was feeling as he sent her a tentative smile back and she wondered if her alleyboy had just been someone who looked similar to him.

“Hence; Bambi,” Toni continued for her spreading her arms wide and letting out a laugh “Anyway,” she said nodding her head for the two newbies to follow her throughout the corridors “I was supposed to give you the full animatronic tour but some robots went insane and started killing the guests, so, we’ll have to wing it,” she said turning a corner and jogging down some stairs.

Chancing a glance to her left Noelle allowed herself to actually look over the slumped form of Jughead Jones. His hands were pushed into the pockets of his denim jacket and a grey, crown shaped beanie was shoved over messy dark hair. He was definitely the same guy she had bumped into on her way to the White Wyrm the night of her initiation dance, she was sure of it.

And she hated to admit it, even to just herself, but the squirming in her stomach was no longer down to nerves.

“Classrooms don’t have WiFi,” Toni was saying and Noelle shook her head to pull herself out of her own thoughts “Bathroom stalls don’t have doors.”

“Sounds amazing,” Noelle said in a monotone voice.

Jughead let out a small laugh and glanced to her out of the corner of his eye. She cursed her heart beat as it skipped at his attention “What about the school paper?” he asked quickening his step slightly so he was walking alongside Toni “The Red and Black?”

“Yeah, it no longer exists. Censorship? Budget cuts? Take your pick,” as Toni spoke Noelle couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering around the corridors the three of them were walking through. Some stares back were friendly, others wary and, worryingly, some filled with hatred. “To your right you’ll find a glimpse of jingle-jangle being consumed in its natural habitat.”

Noelle’s attention diverted over to where a group of students were standing near the lockers, not even bothering to hide their drug taking.

“I’m sorry - jingle-jangle?” if she hadn’t been spending the past couple of weeks in the company of the serpents and hanging around the White Wyrm Noelle was pretty sure she’d be asking the same, scoffed, question as Jughead.

“This place is crawling with the JJ, a highly addictive total gutter drug,” Toni explained before jabbing her elbow back toward Noelle when she spotted her still looking “So let’s not touch that,” she continued with a pointed look as Noelle held her hands up innocently.

The weight in her chest seemed to lift as she followed a couple of steps behind Toni and Jughead into the cafeteria. Her eyes had immediately spotted the rowdy group across the room, picking out Fangs instantly and, as well as the company of more familiar people, she knew there was no way she could fawn over Jughead when Fangs and Sweet Pea were around.

Her traitor of a heart would just have to take a back seat.

“All right,” Toni said clapping her hands together “Here in the cafeteria - Ghoulies sit over there. Rival gang, drug dealers, street racers, rumours of cannibalism...don’t ask,” Noelle’s eyebrows raised slightly at Toni’s explanation. She’d never really heard much about the rival gang in the Southside and, after that explanation, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to again “And we sit over there. With the serpents.”

Just as Jughead asked “You’re Southside Serpents?” all and any of Noelle’s worries disappeared as a wide grin came to her face and she bounded over to where Sweet Pea was perched on top of one of the tables.

“You finally made it then,” he greeted her by bumping his fist against hers before throwing an arm around her shoulders and tugging her into his side in a tight hug “Fogarty was fretting,” he continued flicking a piece of paper he’d rolled up into a ball between his fingers across the table to where Fangs was scowling.

“I was not,” he said in a grumble as she pulled away from Sweet Pea and he opened up his arms for her “Knew you’d make it in okay,” he said pressing a quick, welcoming kiss to her cheekbone.

“Actually, I’m gonna sit alone,” with matching frowns they all turned their heads over to where Jughead was inching away from them “Just, you know, finish my book and brood.”

“Uhm, hi, I’m confused,” Noelle began, raising her hand and ignoring Fangs squeezing her waist in an attempt to shut her up “Aren’t you, like, a Serpent by blood? The son of FP Jones?”

Jughead’s eyes darted between all of the confused eyes staring over to him “Yeah,” he said with a shrug when he realised that it had been a genuine question “So? I self-identify as a loner not a pack animal. I’m just gonna put my head down and try and get through this, okay?”

Tilting her head to one side Noelle went to speak but Fangs shook his head.

“Hey, you wanna get through this you should hang with the Serpents,” Toni spoke the words going through everyone’s mind “If the Ghoulies get a whiff that you’re alone and vulnerable, they’ll make you their bitch faster than you can say American History X.”

“You can’t make him do something he isn’t into,” Noelle called over to Toni, nodding her head to encourage her friend to leave the retreating Jughead and join them at their table.

“Up to him if he wants to put himself into danger,” Sweet Pea added with a shrug as Toni dropped down into the free seat opposite where he was perched and leaned with her chin in her palm “Don’t see why we have to bow down to him just because he’s FP’s son,” he added in a grumble, glaring over to the back of Jughead’s beanie hat as he raised his can of coke to his lips.

“Ohhh stop,” Noelle said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes as she pushed herself away from where she was leaning against Fangs’ side so she could reach over to shove Sweet Pea’s shoulder “Good mood today please,” she said with a sweet smile, gesturing to the corners of her mouth for him to mirror “It’s my first day too.”

Simply rolling his eyes Sweet Pea hopped down from his chosen seat “I will not give in to peer pressure,” he continued throwing her a cheeky smirk and a wink as the others followed on and also got to their feet.

“You two are literally the worst,” she sniped back as Fangs hurried passed her and ruffled her hair. Hitching her bag further onto her shoulder she fell into step beside Toni and couldn’t help but throw a glance backwards to where Jughead was still sitting at his own table “So, what’s his story then?” she asked Toni with as much innocence in her tone as she could muster.

She couldn’t deny that there was something about her fellow newbie that spiked her interest. The slight stoop to his shoulders when he walked, how he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and the fact that her fingers itched to run through his messy dark hair.

She only hoped all of that hadn’t come across in the simple question she’d said aloud.

“Why? You into him?”

Her eyes raised to the ceiling and a sigh passed through her lips as she looked over to the smirking Toni “No,” she shook her head and knew that, this time, her tone was a lot more unconvincing “He’s FP Jones’ son, he’s not wearing his serpent jacket and he won’t sit with us?” she asked with a frown of confusion “Fangs can’t wait to get his hands on his serpent credentials and I know he’s just waiting for Sweet Pea to arrange the tests for him.”

“Jughead isn’t a serpent,” Toni said tucking her hands into the pockets of her own leather jacket “He grew up with the Northsiders. Went to Riverdale High and hangs with all kinds of Northside friends, the serpents have probably always been vilified to him so now FP is in jail and he’s forced to come here with us he probably doesn’t know what to think.”

Ahead of them Fangs and Sweet Pea were roaring with laughter over something that had been said, the latter grabbing the former into a headlock as they walked “Can’t see why he’d be reluctant to hang with those guys,” she said in an overly sarcastic manner “That why you’re so eager to show him round?”

“Well I’m not into him if that’s what you’re asking,” Toni smirked in reply as she wriggled her eyebrows “But yes. Not only do I not want him to be in danger from the Ghoulies but I wanna show him that we aren’t these ruthless, thug like gang members the Northside have probably had him thinking his entire life.”

“Well consider me in,” Noelle said with a smile as she stopped in front of Toni just before they entered their first class “Because I’m pretty sure those guys aren’t going to be helpful in the welcoming sense,” she added with a roll of her eyes as her head jerked to where the boys had disappeared into the classroom.

“Right,” Toni said with a knowing look as she linked her arm through Noelle’s and guided her in through the door “Phillips, Bambi. Bambi, Phillips,” she said as they passed by the tired looking teacher leaning on his desk “She’ll be sitting next to me,” she added before the two of them made their way to the back of the class, passing a slumped over Jughead on the way.

“How’d he get here before us?” Noelle asked in a whisper as she tugged her notebook and pen out of her bag before she tucked it beneath her chair.

“Must have gone the short way around,” Toni answered with a smirk, mirroring Noelle’s actions and flipping her notebook open.

Noelle rolled her eyes as she pulled the lid off her pen and settled down at the ready to take notes. With her head leaning in the palm of her hand she listened as Mr Phillips began his lesson and couldn’t help but get distracted by the room around her. There were tense expressions on both Fangs and Sweet Pea’s faces a couple of seats away as the latter kept typing away angrily on his phone.

“Probably a bet or something,” Toni whispered over to her, noticing her distraction “It’ll be nothing.”

Nodding her head Noelle sent her friend a tight lipped smile as she settled back in her chair and allowed her eyes to wander over to where Jughead was sitting a couple of seats away. He had been taking notes religiously, sitting hunched over his own notebook as he hung onto every word their English Literature teacher was telling them.

“Fahrenheit 451, by one of my favourite authors, Ray Bradbury. Let’s start with the title. Can anyone tell me its significance?”

She knew the answer but she kept her head down. When she had decided to come back to Riverdale she had gotten in touch with Southside High to make sure she was all caught up with where they were in their curriculum.

After a few phone calls and multiple emails she had managed to get most of the material behind what they were going to be taught over the course of the next year. The main subject eager to hand over the information being English Literature and she had spent a lot of her time reading over Mr Phillips’ notes and the books he recommended.

“What?!” Noelle jumped in her seat at the sound of Sweet Pea’s shout, glancing up from her notes as she watched him get to his feet “Damn it!”

Her eyes followed him as he stormed out of the classroom, raising his phone to his ear.

“Leave him,” Toni said reaching over to grasp onto Noelle’s sleeve as she twitched in her seat “It’s fine.”

“People, there’s a burning book on the cover!”

“Fahrenheit 451 is the temperature at which paper burns,” her interest was distracted once again at the sound of Jughead’s voice while the entire classroom fell into silence at the sound of someone answering “‘It was a pleasure to burn’.”

“Indeed,” Mr Phillips said clapping his hands together “Thank you Mr-” he paused for a second as he glanced down to a piece of paper sitting on his desk “-Jones. And welcome to hell.”

Scrambling in her seat at the sound of the bell ringing Noelle threw her bag onto her shoulder and got to her feet. She had been hoping to have a word with the teacher once the lesson was over, let him know he didn’t have to call her Bambi for a start, but with Sweet Pea storming out in such a manner she knew it would have to be put on the back burner.

“Uh, hi, Mr Phillips?”

At the sound of Jughead’s voice her feet came to a stop as she stepped out into the corridor. Pushing her hair from her face she stayed leaning against the wall just to the side of the door frame as Toni and Fangs disappeared down the hallway.

“I heard you used to advise the school paper, I was wondering what happened?”

“Drugs and gangs came to Southside High,” Mr Phillips replied with a sigh “Trying to get students interested in the school paper was an exercise in futility.”

“I’m interested. I have experience. When I was at Riverdale High I wrote for the Blue and Gold,” Noelle leaned closer as Jughead continued “I’ll put in the work.”

“Noe!”

She jumped at the sound of the nickname only one person she knew used being hissed from down the hallway, her neck craning over the heads of people walking passed to see Fangs waving for her to follow him “Is this what my life is going to be like now?” she asked barging her shoulder into his arm “Being dragged from one drama to the next?”

Fangs grinned across to her, his eyes sparkling, as he replied “Well you did choose to become a serpent Noe,” he said dodging out of the way of her elbow with a laugh alive on his face.

“Hey,” she said reaching out for Toni as both she and Fangs caught up with her. Linking her arm through her friend’s she pulled her close to her side “I have an idea on how we can get Jughead Jones to trust us. You still have your camera right?”

*

“You’re the newbie and the newbie brings the food,” Noelle grumbled beneath her breath in a very bad impression of Sweet Pea as she wrapped her coat closer around herself and jogged up the steps leading to Pops. It had taken her a while but at least she had managed to get him to hand over the cash for everyone’s food.

“Hey,” she said with a smile as she leaned up onto her toes to rest her arms on the countertop “I’m here to pick up an order for the Southside?”

The older gentleman behind the counter sent her a warm smile and told her the price “It’ll be ready in a few moments,” he said as he turned away for a few seconds and reappeared with a strawberry milkshake “You can have this while you wait.”

“I...thanks!” Noelle answered as she took a sip through the straw, placing her hand on her chest and nodding her head as an ‘Mmm’ sound left her “This is amazing,” she said plucking the milkshake up into her hand and turning to see if there was a free booth she could stretch out in while she was waiting.

“Oh! Hey!” she exclaimed jumping slightly when she spotted the newly familiar figure of Jughead Jones heading toward her.

His eyes narrowed slightly and he tilted his head to one side “Hi,” he said with a smile, raising his hand in an awkward wave “You picking up a take out?”

“Roped into picking up the take out,” she corrected him with a roll of her eyes “Sweet Pea can be quite persuasive when he wants to be,” she added shaking her head “You?”

“I come in here to write,” he answered with a shrug and her interest piqued “It’s quiet, I get inspired here.”

“And I bet the milkshakes help,” she replied taking another sip and smiling when he laughed.

“Yeah I can’t deny that,” he answered nodding his head “I’m actually on my way out to see my girlfriend,” he continued jabbing his thumb over to the door “I’ll catch you in school tomorrow?”

“You sure will,” she said arching her eyebrows over to him and waving as she ignored the sink of disappointment in her stomach and watched him slip out of the door “You sure will?” she repeated beneath her breath with a frown and a shake of her head.

“I don’t care, Archie, this is nonnegotiable,” slipping into one of the free booths she couldn’t help but overhear the conversation going on behind her “That drive-by he did was a kind gesture, but this, this is like...I don’t wanna call it a test, though it kind of is.”

“What am I being tested for?”

“Not you, my father. Can he just be a dad for one night? No agenda other than getting to know someone who’s important to me.”

“Order for the Southside!”

Noelle grinned as she slipped out of the booth, nodding her head to the couple sat behind her as they turned in their seats to catch a glimpse of the serpent in the diner “Hi,” she said waving her hand and moving to stand closer to their table “Noelle Bamber,” she introduced herself offering her hand to the good looking, ginger haired boy staring up to her with wide eyes.

“Veronica Lodge,” the dark haired girl sat opposite him cut through in a sickly sweet tone as she leaned over the table to take the hand Noelle was holding out “Of the Park Avenue Lodges.”

“Congratulations?” Noelle answered taking her hand back “And who is this? Your bodyguard?”

“Archie Andrews,” the beautiful ginger boy said with a chuckle as he finally took her hand “You new to town?”

“To the Southside yes,” she said noticing the look on Veronica’s face, especially when she turned and the other girl was able to see the Serpent logo taking up most of the back of her leather jacket “But maybe I’ll see you around,” she added with a wink before she turned to head back to the counter to pick up their food “It was lovely meeting you,” she called over her shoulder, chancing a glance back to see that Archie was watching her leave with a smile on his face while Veronica’s had darkened into a frown.

“Enjoy,” Pop said with that warm smile still on his face as he handed her the two bags filled to the brim with take out food “Are you alright carrying those?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” she said gathering up both bags in her arms, thanking him once again as he emerged out from behind the counter to hold the front doors open for her. Jogging down the steps she paused when she spotted the flash of red hair in one of the windows.

Archie turned his head just as she craned her neck to catch one last glimpse at the Northside couple. Nodding her head toward him she let out a laugh when he raised his hand in a wave and Veronica batted it back down again.

Riverdale was proving to be more interesting than she could ever have imagined.