Thinking about how Victor Casin heckles Adam Hesketh for only being his 'sniffer dog', then Adam tries to snipe back by saying he's a loose cannon, buuuuut Victor seems to embrace and accept that cannon moniker, claiming that the only thing he's good at is maiming and killing. When Danvers says that Adam and Victor aren't going to be field-partners anymore, Adam is the one who reacts viscerally while Victor makes fun of him for being so attached. Victor immediately rejected Ifrig as soon as it tried to be in his head.

But then as soon as Ifrig is in front of Victor (well, Leslie-Ifrig), he immediately starts blaming them for him being so isolated, and for having nothing in his life but being a loose cannon. He is the one who crumbles when Adam isn't his partner - he quits his job, nearly gets groomed into a cult, nearly gets killed, and pushes away everyone who could help him. Them getting separated as coworkers is treated as a breakup metaphor. Victor fighting Leslie-Ifrig is a dating metaphor. He only gets back to being partners with Adam when Leslie-Ifrig says 'It's not working out. I think we should kill other people'.

Meanwhile Adam deeply resents being called Victor's targeting system, wishes that he had a relationship with Arlgheen, and while he does make a lot of missteps as an investigator (and isn't very bright generally tbh) he manages to help figure out the case, save Rava and even gets her to respect him, and grows as a person. His resentment at being known only as Victor's sniffer dog is getting stronger as Victor is beginning to see his own reliance on Adam, but refuses to admit it. Adam is genuinely happy that he gets to work with Victor again after Danvers pairs them up - but he has more self-respect now. I'm so genuinely curious about what their relationship is going to develop into in the future, especially since 1. they're going to have a teenage sidekick and it's totally gonna be a parenting metaphor, and 2. it is only going to get more dangerous as the stakes ramp up and if they cannot trust each other and work together perfectly, they are going to die.

Adam just got given two possible future love interests (Allison, if you squint, and Rava more explicitly) while Victor immediately blew up his chance at having a love interest despite Leslie-Ifrig literally calling it a date when they hung out together, leaving him with nothing and no one but Adam. Victor is going to make himself miserable and Adam is either going to follow him down into the codependent yaoi or become a better person and that is so fucking fascinating.

My thoughts on Love, Victor season 2 cause I have too many feelings and I need to talk about it.

Disclaimer No. 1. This has massive Love, Victor season 2 spoilers so pleaseeeee leave if you have not watched it. Also if you do not want to engage with it.

Disclaimer No. 2: This is my opinion on the season so if you don't agree please leave. Don't come for me. I don't mind having proper discussions but I don't want unnecessary arguments so thanks.

There are a lot of unpopular opinions so as I said earlier if you don't want to be respectful, please leave.

I absolutely adoooooooored this season. I think it met its potential quite well and I liked how it panned out. I felt it was brilliantly done. I know a lot of people don't agree with me but I actually saw that it was gonna be an acquired liking but yeah.

THIS POST WILL BE GETTING TO THE MORE MAJOR PARTS OF THE SEASON. MEANING VICTOR, RAHIM, BENJI AND VENJI.

Let's start with individual breakdowns.

Right of the bat we see that this season is gonna deal with Victor with the rest of the world. The first season was very internal and dealt with his own stuff in his own head. We very minutely see his interaction with different people and how that internally affects him. This season was more of how the outward world dealt with him. His intersectionality of being a Queer POC that plays sport really adds to the discussions within the queer community and the sense of being outcasted within the community. I liked how he was able to talk to Andrew about the whole being 'the most non gay gay' and also not being 'gay enough'. It was really nice and I loved that interaction. I also liked the fact that they discussed the whole aspect of being stressed about the first time and such.

I liked the full cabin sequence in terms of his anxiety about having sex for the first time. That too with an experienced gay. It all just makes sense and makes me glad that it was addressed.

I loved him as the 'mentor' for Rahim and the fact that they could relate to each other about being POC with religious parents I think was the exact push needed for the discussions to move forward.

I think his conversation about his queer experience as a POC with Rahim was something I have been waiting for since the first season. He definitely should not have revealed Benji's secrets without talking to him and that was a mistake on his part and something that will affect Venji in a long while. But the fact that Rahim and Victor relied on each other was not surprising.

I am going to address the rest of the aspects of Victor with regards to his relationships with each of them after their individual breakdown.

Now moving forward to Benji.

I know its gonna be a hard truth but I think his character was the one that I liked the least. And this is specific to the fact that his motivations are hidden from us. He is not really open to talk to us (through victor). I had the same problem with him in the first season and was hoping he would be fleshed out more. We only see him as an extension to Victor and just his boyfriend. Even then, we barely see him communicating with Victor or anybody else all through the time. Also, that being said, I have seen a lot of people say he was OOC but I think he was actually not really OOC. The way he reacts to Victor's mom's reactions although they come from a place of wanting better for Victor, he doesn't really think twice about why Victor must not be reacting or doing so subtly. He feels very unsympathetic on many occasions and that is a pattern we see from season 1.

I'm not saying he didn't have any troubles of his. Cause he definitely did. We know that with the drunken driving episode and the AA meetings and the strip club story. They were all awful, but that doesn't excuse him from trying to understand where Victor is coming from. Maybe having a little more context and communication about him would make us understand him and his motivations better.

This season specifically, I actually found him to be very token-ish of a gay guy which is weird because it has two other gay characters (or 5 based on the multiple cameos).

Now getting to Rahim.

I LOVED HIM. He is, I think right behind Victor in my heart. I fell in love with him barely minutes into the episode. His coming out retelling was the most wholesome of all things. I loved the friendship Pilar and him shared. I'm surprised we didn't get a scene with Pilar teasing him about his crush on Victor but I think that was because the writers didn't want to make it obvious. I felt he had a character of his own that was explored more than just coming in between the main couple. The one episode where they skip school we found out more about him and it was intriguing to say the least.

He is a Muslim gay boy who likes to put nail polish and fashion and believes that his parents will not accept him. It is soo refreshing to see this theory get denied and the parents being completely okay with it. Next, Victor and him have an interesting relationship between the two. When victor needs his mind to be taken off of things or talk to, Rahim does just that and when Rahim needs some advice or just some support Victor does that.

NOW VENJI.....

I think this is again... a little unpopular right now, but... their relationship was not that great this season. And I.... kinda expected that to happen. That is for multiple reasons. They spent 50% of their time making out, 40% of it fighting and 10% communicating. Were they flawed? Absolutely and I get that. They had massive miscommunication problems. Trust issues and everything under the moon. It is to be expected especially cause they are teenagers and they are not mature enough. That being said, flaws are not when you are dismissive of your boyfriend's issues because he doesn't fit your ideal gay stereotype. Flaws are not when you say your boyfriend is too much for you to handle and say something like you are the only one taking care of them. That's manipulation. Flaws are not when you don't realise that the context your boyfriend comes from is very specific to himself and if you want to do better you need to be open to listen to where he is coming from instead of getting offended by him saying you are white when you don't get the specifics. You need to understand that by saying you are white, he is not dismissing your experience with alcohol addiction and with your father taking you to strip clubs and shit. He is just saying you don't get where I am coming from. The reason I say I saw it coming is because even in season 1 we see Benji go ahead with what he wants to do instead of thinking about the consequences. Case in point the kiss on Victor's birthday. Victor told Benji that his grandparents are homophobic and still he kisses Derek. Because it is fiction and a teen drama the consequences weren't dire and it came to be a growth point for Victor but just imagine if the consequences were different. If it ended up being something worse, what then. I feel this season we are especially able to see Benji out of the rose tinted glasses that Victor had last season.

That being said I admit that Victor was also not entirely good. He did breach Benji's trust. I don't see how they can go back from there. He didn't communicate from his side as well, but just think of it like this if someone says you are too much to handle would their partner actually be willing to communicate what's bothering them?

The things about Isabelle walking on sex. If it was my house anything remotely sexual, irrespective of the gender would have been met with shame and anger just as Isabelle did. They are 16. The little brother was right next door. In any way whether it is straight sex or gay sex it would still have been met this way I feel.

So yeah as much as they are supposed to be the main star couple of the show they lack in almost every aspect. So yeah...

Now coming to VICTOR X RAHIM

Straight off the bat, I don't know if I watched the same season that others did because I actually felt the chemistry between them was actually more than Venji had in scenes other than the make out ones.

Also, they come from similar backgrounds. They understand each other much better than any white dude could ever understand them. They actually talk and communicate.

Rahim and Victor on the other hand are both new to this whole being gay, out and proud thing and I feel they would understand each other better. I think a big problem people have with them is that the writers fall back on the love triangle trope and stuff but I like it in this instance. It made sense to me.

Why? Because they are teenagers. Also, the gay pool in schools are so small and people are bound to explore. Like Victor said, what are the odds that you end up with the first person you start dating?

Also, regarding the wedding. Benji said he would not come, so I don't think he has the right to question who he came with. It was completely innocent on Victor's part because he did invite Pilar first. I guess it is the whole first slow dance that was the betrayal and as much as their chemistry was palpable I feel Benji should have allowed to here him out. I don't know maybe you all feel different about it but I feel that is not a betrayal on Victor's part. What could have been a betrayal was the kiss. I know it is once again a repeat of the cheating stereotype and I had hoped that the showrunner's did it a bit differently but well it has happened. (But again the chemistry in that kiss!!!)

What do I want to happen next. I definitely ship Victor x Rahim more than Victor x Benji. I would love for it to be Rahim behind the door but it feels unlikely that the showrunners will actually do that so my hope is even if they get together, Benji and Victor realise just how much they don't fit with each other and break up amicably and then Victor x Rahim gets explored and slow burn happens.

I don't want Victor to be the only one apologising if Venji do get together again. For whatever small amount of time. I need them to communicate better.

So yeah..... this was long and what I thought of the main portions of Love, Victor. It's really ironic how people love everyone other than Victor in a story about him and care for all the stories other than him.

Hi, if you're comfortable with writing something like that; could I request something with Megatron (any Megatron of your choice) comforting his afab non-binary s/o who's been dealing with massive dysphoria recently? It's super self-indulgent and I understand if you refuse. Either way, thank you, and have a nice weekend!

Self indulgence is the whole reason this blog exists anon!💥Went with tfa, hope this is close to what you’ve had in mind.~Gregoria🏩

(feedback on this one would be very much appreciated, since these sorts of requests are done with best intentions, but that doesn't mean that there are no mistakes in portrayal. If something isn't written well despite research, it would mean the world to hear so from first hand, so we can decide to try and write better, or not focus on these types of requests if they do more harm than good)

............................. ....................... ............................

“Fragment for your thoughts?”

Their scowl turns in his direction, hands balling deeper in the pockets of their hoodie.

“You know what, so stop bothering me,”

Megatron’s eyes narrow, the red triangular lenses refocusing on their face, taking in their disgruntled expression. The tension has been high for days now, and it’s about time he does something about it. He extends a servo, placing it near enough for them to step on. 

“This is not meant to be an interrogation, love. I simply wish to speak with you,” 

They take longer than usual to come to him, and even longer to speak again when he heads out on a flight with them. They even try to get out of him fastening the seat belt, muttering about it making things worse. His retort before takeoff is that he'd rather have his one and only favourite organic and partner in mild discomfort, than splattered across his internals in case of an autobot attack. When they finally manage to share their frustrations with him, describing just how awful they’ve been feeling recently, it soon becomes a conversation and he shares his own thoughts in regards to his own frame. It doesn’t feel like his, and since it’s barely anything like his original frame, he believes the feeling is one that is comparable.

“Yeah? You can say you want to be called something else and others will fall at your feet if they make the mistake, because like fuck anyone would do it on purpose! At least you can change your frame to fit, change how you want it to look and feel with no problems! You’re a robot, what do you know about what this feels like!”

He is silent after their outburst for a good couple of minutes, the air tense and cold.

“Despite being robots, as you and the professor seem so keen on pointing out, you seem to forget that we are sentient. Out of everyone trapped on this miserable wet rock your species inhabits, I’d say the feeling of discomfort is one I am quite familiar with. Nerves and circuitry are not as different as you might think.” he calmly states, and the two of them fly in silence from that point onward, until he eventually speaks again in a softer tone.

“Comfort in one’s frame is a great benefit in battle, that much I know for certain. And you, my dear warrior, are a victor of everyday challenges.” They can feel his field brush against their skin, the hairs on their body standing up straight from the staticy feeling. It carries a silent apology, attempted comfort that causes their muscles to relax slightly.

“My frustrations are not turned towards you. We shall address this topic more in depth in the future, but for now I suggest we focus on what will help you. It is about time we find an advantage for you,” 

The seatbelt around them tentatively presses against them in a slow, reassuring squeeze, as close to a hug as he can give in his alt mode. “Is this agreeable, my love? Take your time, there is no rush in answering right away.”

He has the means, he knows the outline of Detroit on a nearly intimate level, so locating anything his partner needs never takes long. They discuss future actions, assess what risks and procedures (if there are any) that they are willing to undergo. He knows there is not much to be done when their dysphoria hits harder, aside from providing as much comfort as he can and keeping a watchful eye on them, making sure they are aware how cherished and important they are to him.

"No matter the way your feelings manifest, I am here for you. And nothing will stop me from loving you, no matter what that brain of yours suggests or tries to convince you of. You are not getting rid of me that easily, warrior mine."

One Life to Live

Hi, so now we come to the end.  The final two chapters.  Thanks to everyone who’s been following this story.  It can be read on AO3 too.  My name is Kris22 there.  As always, thanks to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take” available on AO3 and Fanfiction.  And thanks to Loueze for her encouragement and support.  Chapter 37 By the time the television crew was due to arrive, Peeta and I were as convincingly in love as two people could possibly be.  Of course, it was helped a great deal by the fact that we actually were.  Even so, we were hardly looking forward to our private lives becoming public again and cameras following us around as we went about our daily routine.  We worried about how intrusive it might be. Cressida had promised it would be tasteful, but the Capitol idea of tasteful can be very different from the districts.  I was afraid that it might be like that show I once saw on television about a houseful of people under constant surveillance.  They couldn’t even shower in privacy.  Would it be like that for Peeta and me?  Would they follow us into the bedroom?  Expect us to perform?  Our one consolation was that we’d be left alone once filming had ended and we vowed to ourselves that we’d do nothing newsworthy for the rest of our lives.   The day came. The house had been cleaned and tidied.  Everything was where it was supposed to be to reflect a couple who lived together as romantic partners.  Buttercup was bathed and freshly groomed.  I had the scratches to prove it.  Peeta, always considerate, had baked an assortment of breads for the crew, although I told him he shouldn’t bother.  At 7 am everything was in readiness.  10 am came and went.   And then 11 am.   At 2 pm we were still waiting.   At 4 pm we wondered if we’d got our dates wrong.   It was 6 pm when Haymitch finally got around to telling us.  They weren’t coming.  At all.   The video Remus took had violated victor media protection.  I had been filmed without my consent, wasn’t engaged in illegal activity and hadn’t voided my own protection by taking on a public role or seeking publicity.  Plutarch knew this but gambled that in our ignorance, we could be coerced into co-operating.  And once filming had started, our media protection was automatically revoked, since we had clearly consented to it.   It took only one phone call from Haymitch to President Paylor to have it sorted.   I suppose it’s of some consolation that Plutarch was severely reprimanded and threatened with dismissal.  And that he was also out of pocket for the purchase of the video and pre-production costs. As for Haymitch, I couldn’t decide whether to thank him or kill him.  He had certainly saved us from our lives being turned into a media circus for a second time but he’d let us have the worry of it for a whole week.  Peeta calmed me down and reminded me that it had brought us together.  Haymitch’s defense was that he was sick to death of our crap and wanted an end to it. He thought that a week of living together would get us sort out our differences and he was proven right.   I argued that it would have happened anyway, although I had to concede probably not as quickly.  With that in mind, I decided to let him live.   The year rolls around.  Peeta doesn’t move back into his house. It was never discussed; it was simply taken for granted.  We keep busy.  Peeta still works at the bakery as a specialist cake decorator.  He’s a partner now.  The sign above the new premises reads “Carter and Mellark Bakery and Patisserie.”  I teach at the school and on weekends I hunt. Marcus wrote to ask if I was interested in culling pest species such as wild dog and feral pig.  I jumped at it.  It seems you can be a hunter and a conservationist.   Haymitch works at the council and raises geese, which he does a pretty good job of considering he’s inebriated most of the time. We attend two weddings and one toasting.   Arthur and Lace don’t wait long before they tie the knot, or to be more accurate, thread the needle. Predictably, it was the source of much hilarity for Max, who was also invited.  At least he refrained from making jokes until after the ceremony.  I enjoyed catching up with Sateen and her husband Roy. They have a little boy.  They called him Felt.   Poor kid.   The second wedding was Octavia and Thom’s. Octavia made a beautiful bride with her rich auburn hair and fresh complexion.  Venia’s fear that their past as prep team to the Games would jeopardize their position in 12 proved needless.  Everyone knew who they were.  They’d seen them on television.  Flavius’s bright orange hair and Venia’s facial tattoos made them easily recognizable. But people had moved on.  They were tired of holding onto resentments – especially for three harmless beauty therapists whose former “victim” still willingly availed herself of their services.   The toasting was ours.  One day, we just did it.  There was no planning, no prior understanding that we’d have one.  It was the middle of winter.  We were snowed in and confined to the house.  Peeta got a roaring fire going and we picnicked in front of it using odds and ends from the pantry.  We had some stale bread to use up and toasted it by the fire.  He’d hold the toasting fork with a piece of bread to the flames and offer it to me when it was done.  The significance of it entered our heads at the very same moment. It was just a look followed by a kiss. Nothing needed to be said.  One day we might make it official, but for us we’re more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us.   Johanna won the election for District 7 mayor. She’s kept very busy but we talk on the telephone regularly.  She’s coming to visit 12 for a few days next month.   Doubtless she’ll be as disruptive as ever.  But sometimes we can use a little stirring up.  That’s what Johanna says anyway.  She takes full credit for getting Peeta and me back together and I can’t say she’s entirely wrong.   And we had a visit from my mother!  I had her possessions shipped to her home in District 4 and it seemed to have jolted something inside her, because soon after she was making plans to travel here.   It was a short visit.  She was nervous about coming here, of the memories it could evoke.  But aside from the Village, there’s nothing left of the old Twelve.  The debris from the bombs has long since been cleared away, new buildings have replaced the old, and the grass grows long and thick over the meadow.   We had a long talk about her reasons for not joining me in Twelve after I’d been released from the Capitol.  She feared being pulled down into a depression along with me.   I understood.  When you’re in the grip of it, you can see no way out.  My mother, having recovered once, was deathly afraid that she wouldn’t recover a second time.  And since misery feeds on misery, she would likely have only made mine worse.   Peeta is somewhere in the house repairing the painting of the primrose he did for me.  I don’t visit Prim in her room anymore except for that one time I when I wanted to tell her about my toasting with Peeta.   She wasn’t there.  She hasn’t been for a long time.  It was then I realized that Prim doesn’t reside in any particular place.  She’s with me every time I think of her.  I took down the primrose painting from the top of the dresser.  It belongs somewhere where I will see it every day.   I had an idea for a book, similar to my family’s plant book.   It’s to preserve the happy memories of the people we’ve lost.   Lady licking Prim’s cheek, what Cinna could do with a length of silk.  In my best handwriting, I carefully record all the details it would be a crime to forget and accompany it with a photo if we have one, or a sketch or painting by Peeta. There are photos of Finnick strewn across the dining table as I try to make my mind up on which one to use - a publicity shot that shows off Finnick’s sea-green eyes or a photo taken of himself and Annie at their wedding.   “Katniss, I was looking for some kind of adhesive tape to fix the painting and I found this letter in one of the drawers in the study.  It was addressed to me, so I opened it.” I look up, wondering what Peeta’s talking about.  He holds the painting in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other.  He leans the painting up against a wall and then pulls out one of the dining room chairs to sit across from me.  He lays the letter down in front of him.  I immediately recognize the handwriting on it as my own.  It’s the first letter I wrote to him after the mayor’s party before I thought better of it and wrote a second.  But not before putting it in an envelope and stuffing it in a drawer.  I’d forgotten all about it.   I try to snatch the letter away but he swiftly puts it out of my reach.  “Dear Peeta,” he reads. “I’m writing to you because – ““You don’t have to read it.  I know what’s in it,” I say.  “Give it back.”  I make another grab for it but he’s too fast. “. . . because I’m sure to get it wrong, or miss something important if I do this face to face.” He stops reading and hands me the letter.  I take it from him, refold it, and slip it beneath the memory book, hoping against hope, that this will prevent any more mention of it. “Did you really want to break off all contact with me?” he asks, frowning.  “I didn’t think it ever got that bad.  When?  Why?” I sigh. Why didn’t I throw the damn letter out? “It was after the mayor’s party.  I was very upset when I wrote it.  And then I had second thoughts and wrote you another. That’s the one I slipped under your door.  I’d forgotten about this one.” He gives his head a shake. “I don’t understand. Nothing happened that night.  Not between us, anyway.  Did someone say something?  Was it Max?”  His lips thin in anger.  “That – “ “No,” I say quickly.  “It was nothing Max did.” I let out a breath, and plough forward. “It was something you did.  You and Lace.  It was when you sneaked off to have sex.” There’s a moment of stunned silence.  “What?” “You know what I mean.  I saw it all.  Well, not all, but I did see the two of disappear through those swinging double doors only the staff used.   And when you came back, Lace’s hair was all mussed. And if you didn’t have sex exactly, it was something close.  That was really tacky, Peeta.  Civilized people have more decorum than to do that.  Civilized people wait until they get home.  Civilized people – “ “Katniss, we didn’t sneak off for sex. Cass invited me to see the kitchens once the dessert course was over.  That’s where we went.”   Oh.  I guess that’s a reasonable explanation.  But that dream had been so vivid.  “Then why was Lace’s hair messed up?” “Was it?  I don’t know.  I don’t remember anything different about her.  We went to see the kitchen, Cass showed us around, and then we came out. Nothing else happened.”   “But it was sticking out,” I insist.  I know what I saw.   The scene plays again in my head.  I was at the bar with Haymitch and Max, sampling shots of whisky and getting drunker and more agitated by the minute.  Agonizing over what they could be doing.  Kissing, fondling each other, maybe even fucking. “And then you didn’t even look to see if I was still there when you came back,” I add in a small pitiful voice.  It sounds so pathetic, saying it aloud.  It’s a trivial reason for cutting someone out of your life. Just because they didn’t look for you when they came into a room.   But after everything, that’s what tipped it over for me.  What finally made me give up hope and decide to end it. He reaches across the table to take one of my hands.  “Katniss, look at me.” I turn my face away, and he gives my hand a tug.  I reluctantly meet his gaze.  His eyes look earnestly into mine.  “I can’t explain the hair, okay?  But I can tell you what I do remember about that night.” He pauses, as if waiting for my approval before he proceeds.  I shrug.   “Go ahead.” He closes his eyes for a few seconds.  “You, looking so beautiful in your Cinna dress.  And me, assailed by memories of other entrances and other gowns.  Being dragged around by Lace from one boring conversation to another, unable to resist looking around to see what you were doing.  And Max, who didn’t leave your side for a minute unless it was to get you another drink. I was jealous of him without knowing why but attributed it to a fear of losing your friendship.” He pauses and adds, “At the time, you didn’t seem very happy with me.”I feel a twinge of remorse.  He’s right.  I was often moody and distant with him.  The tape viewings weren’t going as I wanted and I’d recently learned of a pattern book he was making for Lace, similar to my family’s plant book.  “You seemed to be having such a good time together, at dinner and on the dance floor. So, when we came back into the ballroom, I just didn’t want to be reminded of it.  I kept my head down and headed for the nearest group of people.  And then I did my best not to think about you.  I’m sorry.   I hurt you and used Lace to hide from my feelings.  But that’s the truth, awful as it is.”   But not nearly as awful as what I’d convinced myself of.   I don’t know what to say.  I feel so foolish.  So much anger and pain for something that existed only in my imagination.   And I’d also assumed that Peeta’s willingness to help me with the Marcus thing was due, in some part, to either empathy or guilt for having being in a similar situation himself. “No, I’m the awful one for jumping to conclusions.  I thought the worst.  You’d never be so crass as to do something like that.  I owe you an apology.  I should never – “ “You don’t owe me anything,” he says, interrupting me before I can go further.   “In fact, the opposite is true.  You wouldn’t have thought it if I hadn’t given you reason to.” He reaches across for the memory book and flips through the pages we’ve done so far.  My father. Peeta’s father.  Boggs.  It stops on Rue.  Peeta has drawn her poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight.  There’s a reason why I asked him to portray her like this.  It’s how I want to remember her.  You can’t change the past, but you can bring the best of it into the future.   “Let’s make a deal.  Only good memories for us from now on.  Like this book you’re working on.”   He walks over to where I’m sitting to pull me out of my chair.  “Now come show me where you want this painting hung.”  I take him into the living room.  It’s the room we use most and where I’ll see it every day.   As I decide where to place it exactly, Peeta comes to stand at my back to hug me from behind.  I lean back against his broad chest and luxuriate in the strong arms that encircle me.   My dandelion in the spring.  The lullaby that Prim liked as a baby comes to mind.   Here it’s safe, here it’s warmHere the daisies guard you from every harmHere your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them trueHere is the place where I love you. “I was thinking over the mantle?  Or maybe on the far wall . . .”    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 38 Lace’s story: what happened on the night of the mayor’s party.   It wasn’t fair!  This was supposed to have been her night.   She had been looking forward to it for weeks ever since Peeta casually mentioned it on one of their date nights.  The mayor’s inauguration party was to be the biggest social event in District 12 in living memory.  All the important and influential people in the district would be there.  For ambitious Lace, it was invaluable in terms of creating contacts and securing the kind of clientele that could afford to buy her evening wear, a design niche she wanted to develop.   Besides, she dearly loved a party and she hadn’t been to one in ages.  The last one had been the district party where she had met Peeta for the first time.   He didn’t remember it though.   That was fortunate since she had come to District 12 for a new life and a new identity and didn’t want her past in District 8 compromising it in any way.   Since she was to be her best advertisement, she put a great deal of thought and effort into her gown.  She hadn’t much money saved but she splurged the lot on pale yellow satin and then spent many hours making it up.   The final touch was a trip to the salon to have her hair colored and styled.  It was an extravagance, keeping up the hair color.  But she loved it and it formed something of a disguise as it was subtly different from the typical ash brown of the natives of her home district.   As she entered the ballroom, Lace felt she was at the beginning of an exciting new phase.  After a slow start, her business had gained momentum and she was making a steady income.   A few family members had also made the move to 12 which added to her sense of security.  But best of all, was the man on whose arm she clung.  How did she get so lucky?  Peeta Mellark!  Her teenage crush.  The romantic heartthrob whose posters had adorned her bedroom wall.  The boy she had married in her dreams every night.  What a fortuitus twist of fate it had been that day when he came into her shop to have a coat made.  A flirtation had led to a date at a restaurant and then another, until she could now, without exaggeration, call him her boyfriend! True, he wasn’t quite what she had expected.  He seemed a bit aimless, and he liked activities she had outgrown, like hanging out at the ice-cream parlor and the swimming pool, but he was Peeta Mellark!   And he really was so sweet and considerate with his little romantic gestures and compliments to her beauty.  He told her she was a wonder.  And the more she kissed and flattered and stroked, the more wonderful she became.  It was a mutual admiration society that she was more than happy to live in.  The one blot on her happiness was Katniss Everdeen.  Lace had mixed feelings about meeting her. Katniss was intimidating.  Her reputation as romantic heroine, fearless symbol of the Rebellion, skillful warrior and (privately thought by most of the populace) savior from another Snow, preceded her.  But most intimidating of all was her relationship with Peeta.  He talked about her all the time. Not in a romantic sense, it was true, but it was clear she occupied a great deal of his thoughts.  The Games had been mandatory viewing and Lace, like everyone in Panem, had watched Peeta gaze at Katniss with love in his eyes.  But Peeta had an explanation for that.  It had been an illusion.  He thought he had been in love with her, but it turned out that he was in love with his idea of her, rather than who she really is.  But now he thought of her as very good friend with whom he shared an unbreakable bond.  As for Katniss, well, she had never loved him.  It had all been an act on her part. That should have been reassuring.  And it was.  Sort of.  But Peeta had lost many of his memories and what was left was distorted, so how could he be certain? But what gave her most pause wasn’t Peeta.  It was Katniss.  It was clear at the first meeting that Katniss didn’t like her.  Katniss wasn’t rude, but she was cool, even giving her the once over when they were first introduced.  And when Lace and Peeta discussed a housewarming gift from the two of them for Lace’s brother, a shadow passed over Katniss’s face.  It was subtle but unmistakable.  Katniss wasn’t as disinterested in Peeta as Peeta made out. That’s why Lace gatecrashed the tape viewings.  If there was anything going on, she wanted to know about it.  She didn’t trust Katniss one inch.  Unfortunately, the second of the tapes triggered the memory of a traumatic incident for Lace and she reacted hysterically.  Peeta asked her not to attend anymore and she had no choice but to do as he said.   However, despite Peeta watching video tape of hugs and kisses and romantic slow dancing at Capitol parties, nothing changed between herself and Peeta.  If Peeta had ever loved Katniss, it appeared that he no longer did.   Even Leevy’s revelations in the salon that day didn’t worry her for long.  So what if the star-crossed lovers had been real?  It still aligned with Peeta’s version.  What had happened in the Games and during the tours was before Peeta had realized his true feelings for Katniss.  And she’d already guessed that Katniss was in love with him.   The party was everything Lace had dreamed of. So elegant. The women in evening gowns, the men in dinner suits.  Waiters with silver trays laden with flutes of sparkling champagne. The tables resplendent with starched white tablecloths and napkins and gleaming cutlery.  She turned to Peeta to kiss his cheek. “Thank you so much for bringing me,” she said. “You really are the best boyfriend.”  He brushed her lips with his and gave her a fond smile.  “Only because I have the best girlfriend,” he replied.   She beamed and squeezed his arm.  She could hardly recall a happier moment.   And then Katniss Everdeen arrived.  Lace’s practiced eye immediately recognized her gown as haute couture.  Cinna, probably.  Deep blue, the bodice studded thickly with diamonds – were they real? – with a strapless sweetheart neckline and more diamonds scattered on the skirt.  It dazzled and Katniss dazzled with it.  Luxuriant dark hair cascading down her back in loose curls.  Smooth olive skin, fine features and those surprising eyes.  Silvery gray, the colour of storm clouds.  She had a man for each arm.  The school teacher Max Matson, who all the girls agreed was very good looking if you could get past his personality, and – it couldn’t be – Arthur!  Lace’s friend who adored her since they were children together.  She knew he was coming tonight but not with her!  She felt the arm beneath her fingers stiffen and her glance swiftly turned to his face.  Peeta appeared stunned, his mouth gaping slightly.  There was admiration, certainly, but also something darker and more sinister.  Recognition. A memory, perhaps several, had resurfaced.   Lace’s happiness dimmed as if a cloud had passed across the sun.  But she rallied, pulling Peeta quickly along to greet the new mayor and his wife who were momentarily on their own.  Lace was in her element.  She was a natural networker.  She loved to interact with people and was always searching for opportunities.  Peeta seemed a little distracted though. Looking around, not quite keeping up with the conversation.   She followed his gaze, and it led directly to Katniss Everdeen, who, no surprise, was looking directly at him.  They both looked quickly away, but that was of no comfort.  It was clear that they were on each other’s mind. Meanwhile, she was pleased to observe, Arthur had detached himself from Katniss and was busy working the room too.  Now there was a man with get-up-and-go.  He didn’t let his natural reserve get in the way of achieving his ambitions.  Lace waved him over and he changed direction to come to her side.  Soon they were talking business, a fascinating subject for them both. She didn’t notice how restless Peeta was during the exchange. Dinner was announced and everyone made their way to their allocated seats.  Unfortunately, theirs was a dull table and not even Lace’s pearly laugh could liven it up. A burst of laughter from nearby grabbed her attention.  Arthur and Haymitch seemed to be at the center of it.  It caught Peeta’s attention too.  He seemed envious, it appeared to Lace.  But whether it was over the entertaining company or because Katniss was seated there too, she couldn’t tell. After the food had been served, people resumed their mingling, moving from table to table. Peeta wanted to talk to Katniss.  Ordinarily, Lace wouldn’t feel particularly threatened by this.  Over the preceding weeks, Peeta had confided to her that Katniss seemed uninterested in spending time with him unless it was watching the tapes.  And even then, she often seemed angry with him. Lace immediately guessed the situation. Katniss had grown frustrated with Peeta. He hadn’t responded as she’d hoped and she was distancing herself as a form of self-protection.  As long as this status quo was maintained, Lace felt safe. But after tonight, she wasn’t sure of anything.   Lace demurred.  Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea.  Katniss appeared occupied and hadn’t he told her that she didn’t seem keen on his company lately?  It was best to leave her alone.  But Peeta said that they should, that it would look odd if they didn’t.  So, when Max headed off in the direction of the bar, leaving Katniss on her own, Lace reluctantly let Peeta lead her to where Katniss sat.   It was an awkward conversation.  Lace embarrassed herself with her ignorance on what it meant to be a victor at the district parties and having to face the families of the dead tributes.  Worse, she let it slip that she had been to a district party.  Her story was that she’d been a factory worker in 8. Factory workers weren’t allowed to attend district parties.  Fortunately, Peeta didn’t pick up on it, but Katniss appeared to sense that something was amiss.   There was an awkward pause.  Peeta broke the silence.  “Are you going to let me talk to Katniss?” he said to Lace, pretending to be annoyed.  She had intended to stay at Peeta’s side, but perhaps it would be better to leave before she dug herself a deeper hole. “Okay, okay,” she said, in mock surrender.  “I know when I’m not wanted.  I need to go to the ladies’ room anyway.  Just stay out of trouble and don’t bug Katniss.” There, that would show Katniss who’s really in charge and hopefully plant a seed that Peeta wasn’t exactly happy in her company either.  She stroked his hand and kissed his cheek, enjoying her Svengali-like effect, knowing that his eyes would follow her as she walked away. She went to the ladies’ room as she said she would and did the usual things women do there.  She wanted to get the timing right and was gratified to see Peeta waiting for her at their table when she returned.   The dancing started up soon after and Lace pulled Peeta to his feet.  She loved to dance.  Peeta didn’t. His prosthetic leg made it a chore rather than a pleasure and he had faint memories of dancing at Capitol parties. But he wanted to be a good boyfriend, so up he got, and shuffled dutifully around the dancefloor with her. But then Katniss and Max came into view. Max had Katniss pulled tightly against him and he swung her around in a series of fancy turns, almost lifting her off her feet.  They were making fools of themselves, thought Lace.  That’s no way to behave at a formal event. So undignified!  So tasteless!  She turned to Peeta, expecting him to be as unimpressed as she, but his face was hard, giving away nothing.  Suddenly, he put his head close to hers and whispered words in her ear.   She nodded and followed him through the double swinging doors the staff used to bring food from the kitchen.  It had been pre-arranged.  Peeta had told her about it.  Cass from the bakery was to show Peeta around the kitchens. He had never seen a commercial kitchen before.   While he marveled at the long row of ovens, the walk-in freezer, the huge storage room, Lace could barely stifle her yawns.  So boring, and it was fricking cold in there after the warmth of the ballroom. But she stuck a smile on her face and did her best to appear interested but she was hardly in the mood to hear about the merits of blast chillers when her heart was breaking.  Somehow, she had to widen the gulf between Katniss and Peeta. She had to ensure that any fledgling signs of a possible reunion between them was snuffed out before it could begin. And then she had an idea. Just as they were about to re-enter the ballroom, Lace ruffled her carefully styled hair and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth to wipe away some of the lipstick, smearing it a little. Let Katniss believe that she and Peeta had snuck away for some canoodling in a dark corner.  Isn’t that what Peeta and Katniss did as star-crossed lovers?  Sneaking off to be alone when they were at fancy events? It was in a fan magazine she’d read, anyway.  With a bit of luck, Katniss’s mind would go straight there.   She scanned the room and saw Katniss by the bar with Max and Haymitch.  The hour was growing late and the crowd had thinned but there was a group of merry young people standing around nearby.  She started to lead Peeta in their direction, but he seemed to have the same idea and led her.  And when his arm went around her waist and he pressed a fond kiss to the crown of her head, relief flooded through her.  Everything was as it should be.  She turned in his arms slightly to look over his shoulder and managed to catch a glimpse of Katniss’s stricken but resolute face, just before her hasty exit with a startled Max close behind her.   Satisfied, she leaned her head against Peeta’s shoulder and he squeezed her waist.  She had worried over nothing.  It was inevitable that as Peeta regained his memories they’d be focused on Katniss. They were, after all, the memories that Snow had meddled with.  It didn’t mean that Peeta was wrong when he said his feelings for her had been an illusion. The real proof of who he loved was in who he chose to be with.  And that was her, Lace Bomul from District 8.  

the space between the letters: Jerry Baynard moves into Green Gables ft. unexpected mail (awae fic)

“This is... mine?”

The unbelief in Jerry Baynard’s trembling voice echoed through the room in which the Cuthberts were saying belonged to him now.

It wasn’t Anne’s room, of course. No one, however close to the Cuthberts, would be able to fill the physical and emotional void that Anne Shirley-Cuthbert opened when she left for Queen’s College.

Marilla would visit Anne’s gable on the particularly hard days. She’d make sure that no dust was collecting on the dresser, on the sentimental objects Anne had adopted throughout the years. On the days when her longing for Anne and the laughter and stories she’d bring to the kitchen table made it difficult to complete basic tasks, Marilla would tiptoe into Anne’s room and lie on the bed for a few minutes, inhaling the fading scent of her daughter in the sheets.

“Yes,” Matthew smiled shyly, glancing quickly at Marilla. “It’s all yours.”

Marilla said nothing, but she felt joy that they could provide something good for the boy who had eased so much burden from her family, most especially her younger but aging brother.

“I– this bed– it’s mine?” Jerry ran his hand over the soft cotton sheet that lay perfectly uniform on top of the mattress with a feather touch, afraid someone would wake him up from this wonderful dream.

“Yes. This room and everything in it, is yours. It’s the least we can give you, after asking you to live away from your family to help take good care of the farm,” said Matthew.

To help take care of us, Marilla thought.

“I don’t know what to say,” Jerry spoke with tears in his eyes, finally allowing himself to believe it. “I’ve never had a room to myself before. Thank you, Miss Cuthbert, Mister Cuthbert. Merci beaucoup.”

The Cuthberts were a blessing to him and his family. He was but a child when they had hired him to work on the farm, yet Matthew had trusted him like any other capable hard worker and trained him in the ways of farming. His first wage was spent covering overdue expenses his parents had accumulated since moving to the Acadian camp. Since then, his parents found good work and with their salaries combined, they made enough to support their large family, and then some. Jerry Baynard sought to repay the Cuthberts for how they’ve bettered his family in ways they’d never fully know.

“Well,” Marilla managed to choke out. “Don’t go thinking now that this room is yours that it is yours to neglect. I expect you to keep order in here, understand?” She meant to sound strict, to hide the tide of emotion threatening to bubble out of her chest, but the smile on Jerry’s face caused her voice to catch. “And I expect you to make your bed soon as you wake in the mornings.”

“Yes, of course, Miss Cuthbert. But I’ve never had a bed before, so I don’t know the proper way to make it after I sleep. Will you teach me?”

“I will. But pay no mind to it now, seeing as it is your first night at Green Gables, after all. Once you get situated and finish unpacking, you can join Matthew in the barn. Supper is in two hours, so ten minutes to I expect the both of you to be washing up and getting ready to join me at the table.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the two in unison as Marilla fled the room before she could do something foolish like cry.

“Now, you let us know if you’re in need of anything,” said Matthew, putting his arm over the boy’s shoulders. “Welcome to Green Gables, Jerry.”

“Thank you, Mister Cuthbert,” Jerry turned quickly to his mentor and friend to embrace him.

“Oh, no need to thank me, son. You’ve done us all mighty proud.” Matthew patted the boy’s back. He smiled at the observation that Jerry had much grown since he first came to work at Green Gables. “Well, now. I’ll let you unpack. Meet me in the barn when you’re ready.”

Alone in his room, Jerry looked around at the simple furniture that was most extravagant in his sight. A bed, bedside table, dresser, and a slightly cracked mirror that hung on the wall, which was more than he could ever ask for. He glanced at his reflection and briefly pondered what changes this next year would bring.

Jerry opened the dresser to begin organizing his clothes and things, and upon finding a shriveled flower in the top compartment, he immediately smiled at the thought of Anne. He hoped his dear friend was doing well at Queen’s and not feeling homesick, as he was beginning to feel now. He knew it would take a while to get adjusted to the quiet of Green Gables. At home, there were so many Baynards that silence was an odd luxury. He missed his brothers and sisters and parents, and Jerry wondered how Anne, such a boisterous soul, endured the quiet all her years here.

After supper, and after all was said and done, Jerry Baynard slipped into bed and had his first uninterrupted sleep in weeks. His youngest sister made it a habit to wake him up in the night to accompany her to the outdoor washroom, since she was deathly afraid of being in the dark alone. Jerry had faith that the sibling closest to him in age would take his place as little Adelyn’s protector from the darkness. That night, Jerry Baynard dreamed of Green Gables, Victoria (the new cow whom Jerry named after Victor Frankenstein), and a redhead in the forest who welcomed him with a bright smile.

-

It was seven in the morning, but Green Gables and its residents were wide awake. Marilla was baking up a storm in the kitchen, in preparation for the board meeting which she, Rachel Lynde, and Muriel Stacey would attend in four hours. She intended to use her plum puffs to mould the stubborn men into flexible clay. Rachel would be the potter, not her, mind you, for Rachel Lynde had a way of persuading people who had made up their minds they would not be persuaded.

Jerry Baynard and Matthew Cuthbert were working hard plowing a plot of soil for Marilla’s vegetable garden when Marilla rang the breakfast bell, summoning them to the kitchen.

After washing up, they took their place at the table and noticed Marilla’s gleeful expression for the first time.

“We’ve received a letter, Matthew. From Gilbert Blythe.”

“Gilbert?” Matthew shared a curious look with Jerry. “How is he?”

“Very well,” she grinned. “He’s asked us for permission to court our Anne.”

“Court?” Matthew’s eyes bulged. “Well, now. I thought he was going to–“

“He didn’t. He is now studying at the University of Toronto.”

“I thought he didn’t–”

“He does. Said so in black in white, in the letter. Here, see for yourself.”

“He didn’t think to ask in person?”

“All explained, in the letter,” said Marilla, extending the paper to her brother. “Read it yourself.”

Matthew waved it off. “I trust your decision.”

“Matthew Cuthbert, this is a serious matter that involves the both of us as much as it does Anne. We need to decide, together.”

“Well, now. I don’t know much about courting,” supplied Matthew weakly.

“But you do know our Anne,” said Marilla, aggravated. “It’s got to be our decision and you will help me write the reply letter to Gilbert Blythe, and that is final.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Jerry interjected, “what decision are you leaning toward, Miss Cuthbert?”

“Well, yes, of course,” smiled Marilla. “Gilbert Blythe is a commendable person.”

“If he’s so commendable, I wonder why you need my opinion,” Matthew mumbled.

Marilla ignored her brother. “Jerry, would you like to write anything to Gilbert?”

It was now Jerry’s turn to look surprised. “Me?”

“You do live under our roof now, so you’ll be seeing Gilbert around when he comes calling for Anne during their summer break. And, aren’t you good friends with Anne? Think on it, and let me know. All right, let’s not let the food get cold.”

-

After milking the cow Matthew had bought after finding later they needed more milk than they thought, and after feeding the goats, he finally read the letter in the kitchen. He read Gilbert’s request to court a flame-headed girl who rooted herself deep in both of their hearts and pondered hard on all the factors. The main one being Anne’s happiness.

Marilla returned from the board meeting and had just entered the house when she heard Matthew’s voice.

“My answer is yes.”

“Pardon me? Hold on a minute.” Marilla hung her shawl at the front and slipped her feet out of her boots and into her indoor slippers. Placing a basket that was emptied of all traces of plum puffs on the kitchen table, she looked at Matthew expectantly.

He cleared his throat. “I, uh, I suppose it’s alright for Gilbert to court Anne. My answer is yes.”

“It is?” Marilla fought back a giddy smile because Matthew looked so serious. “Really now?”

“Yes. They care deeply for each other and Gilbert’s letter– I read it. He loves her, loves our Anne. And... she loves him, too, told me so herself that day.” Matthew cleared his throat again, looking at Marilla hesitatingly. “So are we agreed?”

“We’re agreed. Thank you, Matthew. I’ll write our letter to Gilbert now.”

“Don’t write if your eyes are too tired,” said Matthew gruffly. “You’ve had a long morning.”

Marilla allowed herself a smile now. “So have you. I’ll be calling you and Jerry in for tea in an hour. Would you mind giving this to him?” Marilla handed a cream-coloured envelope to Matthew. “After reading Gilbert’s letter, I forgot about the second one the postman delivered. It’s addressed to Jerry. No sender’s address.”

Jerry Baynard had just finished collecting eggs from the chicken pen. He smiled at the remembrance of Anne and the fox she sought to protect and was startled when Matthew tapped him on the shoulder, almost dropping his basket of eggs.

“The postman delivered a letter. For you,” Matthew extended the mysterious envelope to Jerry, who now looked perplexed. He wasn’t in the business of receiving any letters.

“For me? From who?” Jerry stared at the letter in Matthew’s hand.

“No sender’s address,” shrugged Matthew. “Here, take a break. You’re due for one anyway,” Matthew said, taking the basket of eggs.

Jerry tentatively shoved the letter down his pants pocket before pumping a drink from the well outside. After drinking three pints of water and being unable to find more reason to delay opening the envelope, he fished it out and examined the elegant writing.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling stirring in his stomach, Jerry gently ripped open the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper that had been folded delicately. His eyes widened as he read

To: Jerry Baynard

From: Diana Barry

-

At tea, Jerry was preoccupied with the contents of his old beau’s letter, so when Marilla asked again if he wanted to write something to Gilbert, he said yes without thinking.

Marilla handed him the letter she and Matthew had finished writing, along with a pen. Jerry snapped out of his thoughts then to address the Cuthberts.

“Did you give Gilbert Blythe permission to court Anne?”

“We did,” smiled Marilla as Matthew nodded slowly. “He plans to visit Anne at Queen’s and accompany her to Avonlea during one of the harvest weekends. We shall see him then.”

Jerry smiled at the thought of Anne being swept off her feet and experiencing romantic love, and of teasing her about her new beau. He only hoped that she wouldn’t be kin to heartbreak anytime soon. Knowing now what he wanted to say to Gilbert Blythe, Jerry’s brows furrowed in concentration as he picked up the pen and wrote as neatly as he could:

P.S. Félicitations, Blythe! Please say hello to AnnE for me. Take care of her good or I’ll feed you to my dogs. À bientôt. See you soon.

—Jerry Baynard

———————————————————————

wowowow I really am a clown

please read: I’m in the middle of exam season so I will be taking a brief hiatus from posting but let’s see how long I can resist going on tumblr lol  so I hope this tides you over while you wait for the next set of letters. do you kindred spirits want (1) Diana’s letter to Jerry or (2) Anne’s reply to Gilbert’s first letter? comment your preference if you have one so ik which I should post next!

index of this awae au/fic so far in chronological order (click to read):

Anne’s letter to Gilbert - #1

Jerry Baynard moves in to Green Gables ft. unexpected mail

The Avonlea girls take on Queen’s aka Cuffing Season

Gilbert’s letter to Anne - #2

click here to access the index to all my works!

Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty One - Judgement Day

“Are you ready?” I heard my mother’s voice behind me. I looked at my desk. I had my flash drive, my laptop and five copies of my essay. Yes, I was ready. However, I felt far from ready.

“Yes, as much as I can be.” I sighed, offering my mom a smile, to show some confidence.

“We’re just waiting for your brother to come with Cristina, he won’t be long.” My mom offered.

“It’s ok, we have time.” I said, reaching for my phone to check for any texts.

“Andy.” My mom said in a flat tone.

“Yes?” I looked up.

“Are you expecting any calls?” She smiled slyly, like she was on to something.

“No.” I lied. Victor was also traveling on business, and told me he would call before my presentation. I was in Portugal for a week now, to make the last arrangements with my advisor before actually presenting and defending my thesis, and I was starting to miss him badly. Between his busy schedule and the difference between time zones, we barely talked at all.

I sat on my bed, lost in thought, not even noticing my mother leaving my room. My thoughts drifted to the memories of everything I had been through that had culminated to this very moment. The verbal and physical abuse, my strong will to overcome it, dealing with the severe physical injuries.

Don’t be silly, you’ll be overworking yourself for nothing, I heard Daniel’s voice in my head, sounding condescending as much as it sounded loving. You can’t work and study, you don’t have that kind of focus. Besides, why do you need it anyway? Aren’t you happy with things as they are, with me?

I took the green notebook from my desk and read the very words that I wrote in it, in red, filled with anger and resentment. My eyes filled with tears, as my heart grew in realization. Finally, I understood what my therapist was talking about when she said I would be thankful later on. I wasn’t exactly thankful for what Daniel had done to me, and I knew some scars wouldn’t really go away, but… I was ok with it. I could feel myself steady on my feet again, and I did learn a lot about myself. I learned that I was stronger than I thought, and that I could endure a lot, and that if I really put my mind to it, I could do things that I couldn’t possibly imagine before. I learned that even those who look aloof can hold a great deal of love in their hearts, and take me in without any kind of judgment especially. I learned to fully cherish those who love me, and to sift through the bad to find the good. I learned that I could love again, even deeper, even stronger.

And yes, for that I was grateful. I was so grateful that my heart couldn’t contain it all inside, and some of it spilled, making my eyes water, the tears staining the red letters in my notebook.

That’s when the phone rang. And when I saw Victor’s picture on my phone, I couldn’t contain a sob. God, I was so grateful for him. I took my time to answer, as I composed myself.

“Hello, handsome.” I said cheerfully, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Have you been crying?” He asked, worriedly. “What’s the matter?”

“No, everything is fine.” I laughed. “It’s been an emotional day, that’s all.”

“I understand.” He sounded relieved. “It’s a big day.” Victor paused. “I wish I could be there with you.”

I sighed.

“I wish you could be here too.” I said softly, hoping he wouldn’t notice in my voice the tears falling from my eyes. “But it’s ok, next week we’ll be together, and we can celebrate. No matter the outcome. I feel like a winner just coming this far.”

“You will do fine. I read your essay, I know how good it is. Just be yourself and you’ll do great.”

“Right, because if it has Mr. CEO’s approval, it’s nothing short of outstanding, right?” I teased.

“Exactly.” He bantered back. “I doubt you know anyone more demanding than me.” His voice softened almost to a whisper. “Don’t be nervous, ok?”

I heard my brother downstairs calling for me.

“I have to leave now. Wish me luck.” I said, feeling butterflies in my stomach.

“You don’t need it. Call me when you’re done.”

“Ok, I’ll talk to you later then. I love you.”

“One more thing.” Victor spoke again before I could hang up.

“Yes?”

“I’m proud of you. And I love you too.”

 I arrived at the auditorium with a feeling of dread, glancing at the huge sitting area, and at the table in front of it, where the people deciding my fate would sit. One of them was Professor Chancey Williamson, a renowned teacher at the University of Cambridge. I had heard he was overbearing and plain rude, making many people leave their own presentation in tears. I tried to remind myself that he couldn’t possibly be any worse than Victor. That didn’t bring peace to my heart though.

My family sat in the auditorium, as I was led to a separate room to prepare with the rest of the students. I read my essay one last time, trying to remember how to defend all the key points in my PowerPoint presentation. I decided to put it away, as I felt fully prepared, and just focus on my breathing.

I got up as I heard my name, taking deep breaths as I walked in. Momentarily turning my back to the audience, I plugged in my computer to the projector, opening the file with my presentation. I then turned to the teachers.

“Good morning.” I started. “Before I start presenting my thesis, I would like to thank the esteemed teachers for giving me the great honor of sharing my work with you, specially to Professor Williamson, who came all this way from…” My eyes scanned the room briefly, and stopped at one specific point. “… Cambridge.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Among the crowd, almost unnoticed if not for his impeccable suit and elegant posture, I could see… Victor. He had come to see me defend my work. I paused for a second, smiling widely at him, my heart beating fast as he smiled back. The room started fading around him. Remembering where I was and what was at stake, I cleared my throat, gathered my thoughts, and focused on my task.

“I would also like to thank Mr. Victor Lee, the CEO of Loveland Financial Group, where I had my internship, for coming all this way from Loveland. Your presence is deeply appreciated.”

Every head in the auditorium turned to look at him and he simply nodded in acknowledgment, not wanting to take my spotlight.

Seeing Victor there brought a spring in my step, and I felt confident as I presented my work. There was nothing to be scared of. I had worked really hard to get there, and my work would show that. I had done my best, and even if that wasn’t enough, it was all that mattered.

Professor Williamson had all sorts of questions, some relevant and some seemingly idiotic, designed to test my knowledge of the matter. From all the members of the jury, he was the one talking the most. And people were not lying when they said he was rude. He kept interrupting me, breaking my line of thought, and for more than once he implied I had plagiarized or that I wasn’t the sole author of my essay. On other occasions he would just ask silly questions, trying to make me trip. I managed to address his questions in a satisfactory manner, even the silly ones, but the way he was pressuring me made me feel more and more insecure.

Finishing my presentation, I asked if there were any more questions. Naturally, Professor Williamson chimed in.

“Yes, one last thing, Miss Jones.” He turned to the technical team that was taking care of the sound. “Can someone provide a microphone to Mr. Lee, so we all can hear him?”

I felt my cheeks burning as an assistant gave Victor a microphone. My mother gestured for me to calm down, but I knew she was also apprehensive.

“Mr. Lee, I understand it is unconventional to include the sponsor company in a thesis evaluation. I hope you don’t mind answering some questions.” Professor Williamson spoke to Victor.

“Not at all.” Victor spoke in his CEO voice.

“Mr. Lee, who supervised Miss Jones’ progress during her internship?”

“I was her supervisor.”

“And how do you assess Miss Jones’ work in your company, regarding her interaction with the three French companies she mentions in her thesis, as well as her performance in general at LFG?”

“Miss Jones’ performance was impeccable, to say the least. The French partners were very pleased with the cooperation and expressed their disappointment in seeing it end. I must also point out that recently LFG experienced a very sensitive setback, and I personally chose Miss Jones to aid in its resolution. Her insightfulness and quick thinking were paramount in solving said issue. Should she be interested, it is in LFG’s best interest to hire her.”

My family was dumbfounded at his statement, their mouths hanging open in surprise. During the first months of my internship, I had spoken of Victor to my family, and… I didn’t paint a very pretty picture. They perceived him like I did at first, overbearing, rude and entitled. It was obviously a shock to see him give praise so openly.

Professor Williamson looked at Victor with suspicious eyes, and dismissed the audience and myself, asking me to wait outside while the jury deliberated.

I walked out of the auditorium not knowing how to feel. I was immediately surrounded by my family.

“That professor was a jerk!” My brother gritted through his teeth. “For what it’s worth, I think you did great, Tiny.”

“It’s supposed to be like this.” My mother tried to calm everyone. “This is a very big deal. Of course they will test her.” She turned to me. “You did very well, Andy. You stood your ground. And the way your boss complimented your work… Impressive.” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“I’m a bit surprised myself…” I said, and then I noticed Victor leaving the auditorium. “I’ll be right back.”

I stood in front of Victor, not knowing how to act. I knew my family was watching us closely, and I also knew that Victor wasn’t very fond of public displays of affection. Victor seemed to be sharing the awkwardness for a moment, deciding to take my hand, squeezing it gently.

“You’re here.” I whispered, smiling at him.

“This is your big day. I feel slightly offended that you think I would miss it.” Victor raised an eyebrow at me.

“Thank you for speaking so highly of me. I hate it that he put you on the spot like that.” I made a face.

“Well, that could have been easily avoided if you hadn’t introduced me to the whole auditorium.” He offered. “But I don’t mind, I’m used to it.”

“Oh my God, I did, didn’t I?” I gasped slightly. “Sorry about that.”

“Like I said, I don’t mind.”

“Oh God, it gets worse.” I said, the stress from the presentation fading away and bringing my focus to obvious matters. “My family will want to meet you.”

“Good. I want to meet them too.” Victor touched the small of my back as he followed me.

“Mom. Dad.” I said, interrupting their conversation about the presentation. “This is Victor, my-”

“Andy, please, we all know who he is.” My father interrupted, oblivious to the real meaning of the situation. “Jeremy Jones. Thanks for supporting our girl. This is my wife, Mariana, my son Joshua and his wife, Cristina.”

“Nice to meet you all.” Victor said, shaking everybody’s hands.

“Will you be waiting for the results with us, or do you have a busy schedule today?” My mom asked.

“I’d like to wait, if I’m not imposing.” Victor wore his usual expressionless face, but I could tell he was getting uncomfortable.

“Oh, Mr. Lee, not at all.” My mom offered. “I actually want to invite you to come have lunch with us, if you are available. There will be plenty of Portuguese food, if you hadn’t had the time to try the Portuguese cuisine. It’s the least we can do for you, since you came all this way to support our daughter.”

“Thank you for the kind offer. It would be a pleasure. And call me Victor.” Although his discomfort was still very palpable to me, I could see Victor was making a (HUGE) effort to open up a bit, which was uncharacteristic of him. And then it dawned on me. He was trying to please my family. My heart melted, seeing him trying so hard to connect to my people.

I heard my name, and went in to get my grade. When I returned to my family, they all gathered around me, waiting for me to speak. Problem was, I found myself incapable of uttering a single word. I just felt like crying. Victor stood behind them, his eyes trained on me, a trace of worry on his face.

“Tiny…” My brother came and gave me a hug.

“No, no, don’t assume.” My father pushed Josh away, and took me to sit on the bench, kneeling in front of me. “Andy, what did they say?” He said, leaning towards me to hear me, since my voice decided to stop working. I mouthed my response the best I could, tears now falling freely from my eyes. “You got a what? Say it again, baby.”

It was so hard for me to talk, sobs wracking my body. But I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down a bit, and managed to answer with a slightly more audible tone. My mother caught it before my father could.

“Wait, twenty?” She paused, not believing what she heard. “Summa cum laude?!?!?” She cried, a lot louder than her usual calm tone.

All the other students waiting for their grades started clapping. My whole family came and hugged me, as I cried my heart out. I had done it. I had worked so hard, I had given it my all, and it paid off. I remembered Daniel’s words, and I realized how much of what he had told me was still so present in my mind, making me doubt myself. Until that day. I knew he was wrong. I had proven him wrong. And that felt better than any praise or honor. My mother must have thought the same thing, because tears rolled silently from her eyes too.

Suddenly, I remembered Victor, raising my head to see him. He was behind us, watching our family moment, his eyes filled with emotion. And the gratitude in my heart grew. He got me steady enough to achieve this, with his tough love, his patience and also his concealed tenderness. He gave me every opportunity to grow and to heal, and gave me all the love in his heart. Maybe he wasn’t the most expressive of people, but he sure was the kindest, always supporting me and cheering for me in the background.

I got up and went to him, only able to mouth a thank you before embracing him. He held me in his arms, stroking my back, his face in my hair.

“I am so proud of you.” He whispered in my ear, his voice thick. “Congratulations.”

He hugged me so tightly I thought he was going to crack my ribs. We held on to each other for a long time, until my sobs subsided and I relaxed, as I listened to his strong heartbeat.

We finally let go, holding hands, a wide happy smile on our faces. When I turned, I noticed my family was watching us, eyes wide, mouth hanging. Except for my mom, who wore her characteristic knowing smile.

A Dissertation on ZAGR

First of all?? Bless your soul.

Now buckle up cause this tea’s been brewing in the back of my mind for 3 years.

Despite my unyielding adoration for these two hot messes, I know there’s a very small chance the ship could work. Zim nonchalantly states that his race is both asexual and aromantic in issue 20, and seeing how Gaz actively separates herself from Dib’s and Zim’s antics both in comics and show, there’s really no reason for them to be near each other. 

However, the times they do share screen time/ panels, there’s a distinct dynamic between the two, one that the show and comics don’t take advantage of, and I’m going to analyze the hecc out of it.

Dang Zim. A few days on Earth and you’re already snatching up girls

This scene charmed me when I first saw it, and I think the reason was is cause up until this point when I started watching the show, I had the impression that no one could do anything to Gaz, and if they did, they would pay for it. I legit gasped when Zim just up an grabbed her, like, this stupid boi had a one-way ticket to hurtville. Gaz’s threats aren’t empty! Nonsequital and gruesome in detail, but not empty. So she’s promising Zim she’ll hurt him, but Zim just... ignores her. He only puts her down when he knows it’s not raining anymore and hardly bats an eye at her words.

Now, he hardly knows her at this point in the series, so it’s very likely that he didn’t know how cold she really is. But still, everyone else who’s come across Gaz ends up acting in her favor in some way or another. By Zim getting away with inconveniencing her and being able to shrug off her threats, I got the hint that Zim in one of few who could put up with her attitude and give her a run for her money. Not enough to ship but... you do get curious when they’ll run into each other again.

Zim?? steals an organ from Gaz that doesn’t make her reel in pain like the others and leaves her Gameslave in a position where she can still play?? Like. I know Gaz is a tough character (she doesn't writhe in pain when she gets lice later on) but the position her Gameslave replaces her organ has got to be deliberate. I fancy Zim knows by now what she’s capable of and executes his plan on her in the least harmful way possible so that she doesn’t come running after him when his whole shtick is over. I remember someone from the crew mentioning that if Zim were to take over, he’d occasionally appease Gaz by offering her food or games, and I think that idea stemmed off here. Zim is an unforgiving zealot with nothing but contempt for humans, yet he accommodates Gaz. So, I don’t think he respects her yet, but he does realize he should stay on her good side. 

Here though, he definitely does. He comes up to her and invites her to look at Pustulio like he has with everyone else, no biggie. Gaz obviously knows better and just shrugs him off, but then...Zim asks her again like  “oh, you sure? understandable, have a nice day”. Amazing. 

Gaz hasn’t changed her opinion on Zim, though. Still very “eh” about him, which is a bummer. It’s by no means ship material, but this moment made me wonder what this was leading up to.

Ohhhh snap it’s that one screenshot every zagr fan has on their blog at least once

So. the context for BPH: Gaz begrudgingly goes to saves Dib, is fascinated by the idea of Zim experimenting on a human but forces herself to focus yessss and after being belittled by Zim, engages in a high-speed chase back to Earth.

Gaz could have easily just jetted out of Zim’s hold and gone home, it would have made sense with how she’s shown nothing but disdain and annoyance when he comes close. Yet, she jumps over his hold and teases him about her win. Then she goes home.

We get two things from this, and they excite me so much omg zifbhjgf

We’re halfway through season 1, and Zim is scared of Gaz just enough to respect and avoid her but is bold enough to belittle her and ignore her threats. Now, she’s beat him in Nanozim but he had no idea it was her, so when her gaming muscles flex over his military piloting, he is s h o o k. 

I believe he is shooketh for two reasons: One, because this is one of Zim’s few losses against the humans directly, a Membrane at that. Two, because someone smaller than him beat him. Recall that he addresses her name once in the show, and it’s to demean her efforts and her stature. Being defeated by someone he deemed insignificant on a first name basis took a huge blow to his pride. Zim has a penchant for overlooking his faults or any correction (Tak telling him his mission was a lie, Gir telling Zim that babies aren’t a threat to the mission) unless it is direct to where he cannot deny it (The Tallests saying the trial was a formality in Zim’s range of hearing). This was one of those rare moments where his shortcomings and the opposing victor are up in his face, Gaz lets him know she’s won, is better than him, and there’s nothing he can do about it. So he just gapes. 

Gaz’s end? I really think she was partly spiteful and playful with this quip. it was her special way of getting Gaz patented revenge after being insulted and attacked by Zim. Also, her cold smile and wave indicate she had fun getting the best of Zim, whereas she never smiled once when dooming Iggins in GS2 and Dib in GToP, and I think that’s really telling.

At this point I was hype to see how much farther Zim and Gaz’s budding rivalry will go, aaaand nothing happens the rest of the show :’)

There’s a brief exchange between Zim and Gaz in Tak:THNG, and yeah, Gaz teases Zim about his base and Zim deflects her statement in an unusually offhanded, nearly empty threat. It’s basically the equivalent of two kids sticking their tounges out at each other, more lighthearted than their last encounter at the very least. 

After finishing the series and jumping straight to the comics, something beautiful and unexpected happens. It takes 16 issues and then some to get there, but it happens.

Zim and Gaz’s slowly built up rivalry/relationship reaches a new peak. To a point where they can negotiate, know each other well enough to outsmart the other, and most importantly of all, casually talk to each other.

Breaking down issues 16 and 21 are gonna take up a lot of pic space and some fangirling tangents explaining to do, So they are gonna be like, the sequel to this hot mess and be their own posts.

It’s 4am y’all I hope you can read this hggohepw

Thank you @amxlm for entering the prize draw I ran recently. Here is a fic featuring Zeldris as the leader of the Ten Commandments. Thanks for requesting this - it was a blast to write. I really hope you like it.

With thanks to @okamideimos for his headcanon about the Commandment of Selflessness which I have used here.

Trigger warning for canon typical violence.

Nine pairs of black eyes. Zeldris looked over the group, examining each of his new charges in turn. Every single one of the team had something different they wanted to say, and he could tell what it was from the way they were looking at him. He felt his impatience rise in his breast. Because of his own brother’s perfidy, he now had to manage these gits.

Actually, on reflection some of the hostility he saw he could cope with. Derieri was glaring at him, hands on hips and her mouth twisted to a snarl, but that was to be expected. She had just lost her sister at the hands of an archangel and had been saved from madness by the traitor himself, not to mention that slut of a goddess his brother had run off with. That humiliation had to sting. And Monspeet’s studied nonchalance as he lounged at her side was most likely in character. Zeldris searched his memory of the Commandment of Reticence and wondered if Monspeet had once smiled since taking his decree.

He sighed to himself. If this were a proper organisation with a proper resources department - like the one he had learned that the goddess clan had, with shiny offices and appropriate policies for things like performance evaluation, parental leave and bereavement - the pair would be having a few days off. But no. His father had zero understanding of effective people management and had flat out vetoed his son’s idea to bring some systematicity to the process.

“This is the elite army of the demon clan,” the king had boomed at Zeldris, “not a damned nursery. Get on with your job and turn them into warriors.”

But it was a damned nursery. The rest of the ‘warriors’ standing before him on the gratifyingly neat training grounds were behaving just like little children. Melascyla was pretending to ignore him, twirling her long pink hair around a thin finger as she looked at Estarossa who was rolling his eyes and flashing his brother some sort of rude sign with his hands. Fraudrin was practically bouncing up and down with eagerness, a slack grin on his sort of a face, and Galand was scratching under his armpits which he does not even have, Zeldris thought with irritation. Gloxinia and Drole were standing off to the side, both with arms folded over their chests but he could sense the nervousness they both felt. Only Greyroad was behaving professionally. She was floating in the air sedately and was clearly paying attention.

“Thank you for coming,” Zeldris proclaimed, lowering his voice to give himself an air of authority. The ‘warriors’ shifted a little at the address but their response was nowhere near satisfactory. Indeed, Zeldris noted with some disgust that Estarossa was picking his nose.

“I am delighted to take on the leadership of this group,” Zeldris forced himself to continue, hands clenched at his sides to stop himself from punching his brother in his self-satisfied face. “Between us, we have the best skills in the demon realm. Greyroad, Gloxinia, Drole, welcome. You are a huge asset to the Ten Commandments and I am looking forward to seeing you in action. But to beat the goddess clan, we have a lot of work to do, and that starts now. Divide up into pairs and duel. You may use any of the powers at your disposal. The winner from each pair will take on another successful opponent, until an overall victor emerges. The champion will receive a surprise reward.”

At the mention of a reward, the group visibly brightened. “Alright!” Galand yelled as he stalked towards Melascyla. “Shall we, my dear?” he asked, his voice echoing over the fields. Melascyla nodded her assent, and the two immediately flew at one another, Melascyla morphing to an enormous, hissing snake as Galand gave a shout and raised his spear in the air.

Zeldris watched with satisfaction as, one by one, the Commandments followed his orders. He was just looking around to see who was left, when Fraudrin sidled up to him, eyes narrowed and teeth showing where his chest ought to be. “Can I have a word?” the former general asked coldly.

“What is it now?” Zeldris snapped. He was tired of this demon. Fraudrin was by far the weakest of the team. He had been a sub-standard general even before his promotion, and Zeldris had serious misgivings about his current employment. But, of course, his objections had been overruled. There were no others suitable soldiers to appoint, so Fraudrin had been chosen by default.

Fraudrin seemed to quake a little under his leader’s gaze. “It’s about my decree,” he eventually managed to say, his words only just audible over the sound of metal clanging on metal and the fierce rush of the wind, which was being whipped to a frenzy by the onslaught of magical attacks. The air burned with it, the smell of smoke and ash floating on the breeze. “The king made me one of the Ten Commandments. Ergo, I should have a Commandment. I know you have The Commandment of Selflessness in your possession. When am I…”

Zeldris’s laugh cut over this speech, which had all the hallmarks of being pre-prepared. Since when did Fraudrin ever use the word ‘ergo’? He stepped towards the former general, pressing into the demon’s personal space, and despite being the smaller of the two, Zeldris could see the other quiver a bit. “That decree belonged to the greatest mage in the whole of Britannia,” he said sharply, his words cutting through the cacophony of noise. “It is not for the likes of you. We both know that you are only now in this army because of a serious shortage of alternatives. Besides, you are hardly capable of wielding power of this magnitude. It would destroy you…”

“That’s bull,” hissed Fraudrin, and he turned to look very deliberately at Estarossa. “I know he had no power at all before he took his decree. At least I have something. I have my own power, that is mine, that I worked for. So don’t tell me I couldn’t handle it. You know I could.”

Zeldris watched as Fraudrin shook, his emotion threatening to overwhelm him. “Alright,” Zeldris said, conceding the point. “That Estarossa is useless cannot be denied. Very well. I will tell you what I will do. I will offer you a deal. The others are all engaged in battle, so the two of us are left to duel. If you can stand against me for ten minutes then I will actively consider your request.”

Zeldris smirked as Fraudrin visibly swallowed. He was pleased with himself. This solution was neat and meritocratic. “If you end up on the floor though it is all over,” explained Zeldris as his opponent looked at him with uneasy eyes. The prince allowed his hand to stray to the hilt of his sword, excitement running through him as he grasped at the metal. “I will even do you a favour. You may use whatever powers are at your disposal, but I will refrain from calling on my own magic. I do not need to so in order to subdue you, so all you will have to face is my sword.”

Fraudrin moved more quickly than his leader would have expected. Zeldris’s weapon was out of its sheath faster than lightning, deflecting the blasts of Hellblaze which his combatant hurled in his direction. It was almost too easy. He stood still, moving his arm in time with the missiles which rained down on him, not even breaking a sweat as they flew back at his opponent. Fraudrin cursed loudly as he crashed to first one side then the other in order to escape the rebounds of his own attacks. The ground shook as he moved, but the huge demon somehow just about managed to stay on his feet.

Zeldris smiled. “Three minutes left,” he called cheerfully.

“Full Size,” snarled Fraudrin, the frustration he felt clear in his tone. Zeldris watched, amused, as the former general grew to enormous proportions. As if height and girth were an advantage against his own agility. Fraudrin lunged, fist poise to strike. Zeldris waited until the very last second, then sped behind Fraudrin, slashing at him repeatedly with his blade. It was like a knife running through butter; in just a few moments he had carved Fraudrin up into several pieces, all of which thudded like stones to the floor.

Zeldris landed lightly on his feet. “My win, I think,” he intoned, doing his best to keep the triumph out of his voice. He watched as Fraudrin stitched himself back together, limbs reattaching and skin smoothing over to leave no sign of injury. “But you did comparatively well,” he said more kindly as the now-restored Fraudrin audibly ground his teeth. “I was wrong. You may not be as powerful as Monspeet or Derieri, but you do have a place here.”

“Then give me the decree!” snapped Fraudrin.

Zeldris cocked his head to one side and, rather deliberately, shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, one day,” he said.

He was not about to tell Fraudrin he did not have the decree, that the Commandment of Selflessness had vanished with its owner. It would be somewhere up in Britannia, Zeldris was sure, and one day he would locate it. When he himself held all the decrees, he would be able to bring peace to the demon clan, to rule with Gelda by his side. But there was no rush, he reflected as Fraudrin skulked off. The princess was safe in her seal, protected from the ravages of war. There was time to train, to grow, and to learn to handle the power he knew he would some day have to make his own in order to save her.

The Twentieth Time - An L.A. by Night Fanfic

Takes place imminently after the "Dark Hallways" vignette at the end of Season 2. Annabelle meets Chloe. Jasper needs time to sort his unlife out. This is the end... for now.

This fic is part of an AU series where Jasper has been feeding from Annabelle and they now have a Blood Bond and a slow burn romantic relationship. It's worth reading the rest of the "Feeds From" series before this part for proper context and build up of Jasper and Annabelle's relationship.

This is going to be the last fic I write in this series for a while. I may well continue it sometime later, after we see how they handle the whole Chloe situation in Season 3. In the meantime, here is some angst, and some conversations that I hope we get to see some versions of in the show.

I lay no claim to any of the characters involved. The only profit I receive is the occasional kudos and positive comment.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through all 20 of these fics (so far.) Thank you to everyone who has left me comments, kudos and messages. Thank you to everyone who reads, but doesn't leave me anything. This series was not possible without @cravatfiend and @gokaiyellow, my Jaspabelle coterie.

Also posted to the author's Ao3.

First posted May 8 2019.

The Entire ‘Feeds From’ Master List Can be Found Here

The Twentieth Time

A lot was going through Annabelle's mind as she walked along the concrete L.A. riverbed towards Jasper's sanctum. A lot on her mind, and most of it not good. Her hood was up, her hands thrust deep into her pockets. She knew this route well, and had walked it many times since she and Jasper had began their Blood Bond.

She had assumed that if the rest of their coterie found out, she would be happy. Keeping secrets was what had driven Elle and Mark away from her. True, that was also for their own good, or so she had been told. It would keep them in relative safety to not be seen as a target from her Kindred enemies. Annabelle could see the truth in that, now that they had experienced a few encounters with the Camerella. It didn't make the pain in her heart feel any less.

At least she had Jasper.

Their affair had lasted several months. Annabelle chuckled to herself to think of it as an affair, but that's more or less what it was. It had started with her feeding him while he was near starving and it had grown into an extremely intimate relationship. She had taught him Blush of Life and they had used it rather frequently and to great effect. All the while, they had kept it secret. “Nelli and Victor would not approve,” Jasper had said.

But then there was the earthquake, and Jasper had been horrifically injured and Victor and Nelli knew that Annabelle had used her blood to help heal him. From there, all the coterie had to do was ask Annabelle a few pointed questions and the entire secret had given away like a house of cards. To say that they hadn't approved was an understatement, but Annabelle felt that they had an understanding now. They didn't approve of the Blood Bond, but there was nothing they could do about that.

That had all been within the past few nights.

And now...

Jasper had left the meeting earlier this night in a hurry after a brief, but private conversation with Nelli. Annabelle was sad and confused. They had just finished talking to their coterie about their relationship and things had been looking up. Annabelle desperately needed some optimism right now. These past few nights had been bleak indeed. Annabelle rounded on Nelli as soon as Jasper had left the building.

“What did you say to him?” Annabelle demanded.

Nelli hesitated and Annabelle stared her down with a kind of inner fury that she normally saved for the protest march, or for setting fire to senators' offices.

“I told him that...” Nelli sighed and decided to go with the truth. “I told him that I had sources that have informed me that his girlfriend... his old girlfriend... was in trouble. She'd been made into a ghoul and captured by the Inquisition.”

Annabelle gasped, covering her mouth in surprise. “What?”

“I sent in Gregory to get her out,” Nelli continued. “He assembled a team and got the job done, but she's sick or has been drugged or something. She's at a safe house. I gave Jasper that address and he left.”

Annabelle blinked back tears. Part of her thought she should be mad at Jasper, that he was running back into the arms of an ex, but she quickly scolded herself for even letting those thoughts form in her head. If it had been Mark or Elleanore in the same position, she would have done the same thing. Annabelle had no doubt about that.

“Is she okay?” Annabelle asked.

“I don't know,” Nelli said sadly.

“Who... who made her into a ghoul? Do you know?”

“...Yes,” Nelli confessed after a pregnant pause.

“Who was it?”

“Fiona.”

Annabelle's eyes went wide and she looked at Victor. He also looked surprised.

“But... why?” Annabelle wondered out loud.

“Chloe was... had been trying to look into Jasper's death, apparently. She must of thrown his name around and the wrong people heard it.”

“Oh, no... oh... poor Jasper.” Annabelle knew this was going to break Jasper's heart. Hers already felt broken by proxy. She knew that Chloe had been investigating Jasper, but they had hoped that trouble wouldn't find her. Now their worst fears had been realised.

“Annabelle...” Nelli sighed. “I know that you and him... you love each other. This is going to be a difficult thing for him to go through. Keep him strong. We need him. We need the both of you.”

Annabelle bit her lip and nodded, trying not to cry. “I'll do my best,” she promised.

“I'm sorry,” Nelli said.

“Yeah... I'm sorry too.”

That was a few hours ago. Jasper had texted her that he was on his way home and that things had not gone well. Annabelle's stomach churned with anxiety. She had to be strong for him... but that made her wonder who was going to be strong for her?

Just as she came to Jasper's front door hatch, Annabelle noticed a lone figure sitting on the hill on the park side of the river. She paused and squinted at it in the low light, suspicious and worried. There was no one else around. It was late enough at night to be considered to be too early in the morning. It took her a second, but then she recognised the person sitting on the hill. It was Jasper.

Annabelle walked slowly up the hill towards him. He was sitting on the grass with his knees bent up. His right arm was draped over his knees and helping to hide his face, which was bowed and hidden in his hood. His left arm was being held tightly to his torso. He looked miserable. She could faintly smell his Vitae in the air.

“Jasper?”

He had felt her coming. Jasper looked up, wiping his eyes on a sleeve that was already stained with a few blood tears from earlier. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Hi.”

“Hi. How are you doing?”

“Not great, honestly.”

“I got Nelli to tell me what she said to get you to run off so quick. Is... she okay?”

Jasper nodded, then made a 'so-so' gesture with his hand. “She's still a ghoul, just not...” he licked his fangs, hesitating in his answer.

“Is she... yours?” Annabelle asked fearfully.

Jasper shook his head. “No! No. I could never...”

“I thought not.” Annabelle stepped a little closer to him. “But... oh my God!”

She could see now Jasper's left hand and arm. It was black and withered into a painful-looking husk. His hand looked ruined and near useless. The darkness went almost all the way up to his shoulder.

Annabelle put her hands to her mouth again in shock and to stop herself from screaming.

They were trapped in a collapsed building, Jasper just out of reach above her, screaming as his arm fried in the dawn light as Annabelle panicked below, unable to help him...

“Wha-what happened?!”

“I... I was stupid. Annabelle, I'm sorry.”

Annabelle dropped to her knees in front on him, horror all over her face.

Jasper reached out to her with his good hand, and hesitated. “Shh... calm down,” he said.

“What happened?!” she demanded again. “Your arm...”

“I touched a magic ward... twice... and it fried me.”

“What? Why'd you touch it?”

“It was...” Jasper sighed. “I asked Eva to come to try to help Chloe. Eva did some magic to try to break the ghoul bond because that's... it was making Chloe sick. But the magic hurt Eva in the process and I reached out to her, but I didn't know she had put a ward on herself, and...” With a wince, he showed Annabelle his withered hand.

Annabelle whimpered.

“Please... don't cry,” Jasper said softly. “I'm very hungry...”

Annabelle wiped her eyes in a hurry. “Okay. I'm sorry, but... Jesus, Jasper... I hate seeing you hurt like that!”

“I know. I'm sorry.” Jasper hung his head.

“Is Eva okay?”

“She's hurt. She used a lot of blood, but... she'll be okay.”

Annabelle took a shaky breath. “And Chloe? She's still a ghoul?”

Jasper nodded.

“But not yours... Eva's?”

He nodded again and swallowed hard, looking at the grass.

“That's...” Annabelle didn't know what that was. It was shocking. It was saddening. It was intense.

“It was... the best option out of a lot of bad ones.” Jasper swallowed again. “It was either that or... she die.”

“'Die' as in... be turned?”

“Yeah, or... just, you know... be killed. She wanted to become... one of us though.”

Annabelle's chest tightened. She knew that would have devastated Jasper to his very core, but more than that, this conversation was familiar to her. She had one very much like it with Elle some time ago. Elle had wanted to be turned too, so she would be Annabelle's 'forever.' She hadn't told anyone about that, not even Jasper. Keeping her tears back was becoming a struggle. Be strong, be strong, be strong...

Annabelle swallowed hard against the lump of tears in her throat. “But she didn't?”

“No,” Jasper confirmed. “She's... Eva's now.”

“That's... big.”

“Yeah. Eva wasn't happy about it, but... she did it in such a way that Chloe won't be her... slave.”

“Oh... I didn't know that was a thing,” Annabelle said, blinking in surprise.

“I didn't either.”

“Why'd she do it?”

“Because of me. As a favour to me. All this... is my fault. I don't know if...” he swallowed again, fighting tears of his own. “It's going to take something very big to get me back into Eva's good books.”

“Aww...” Annabelle know how important his friendship with Eva was. He would be heartbroken to lose her as an ally. “I'm sure you'll think of something. Eva's one of the good ones, right? She'll forgive you, I'm sure.”

Jasper nodded. He had something in mind already that Eva had asked him to do. It was another stupid and dangerous mission, but those seemed to be his thing lately.

The sound of footsteps swishing across the grass towards them reached Jasper and Annabelle's ears. Annabelle got to her feet and Jasper turned towards the sound. A pretty, pale, red haired woman was coming towards them.

“That's her,” Jasper said softly to Annabelle. “That's...”

“Yeah... I recognise her from her website,” Annabelle replied. It was Chloe.

“Hey,” Chloe said as she approached. There was caution in her steps and in her voice. “Um... am I interrupting?”

“Oh, um... no, not really,” Annabelle responded.

She came a little closer and gave a shy wave to Jasper. “Hi. How's your arm?”

“Still bad,” he mumbled, looking away.

Chloe looked sad. “That sucks. Oh, um...” she took another step towards Annabelle. “I'm Chloe. I'm... I knew Jasper from... before.”

“Hi. I'm Annabelle. I'm Jasper's...”

partner

lover

“...friend.”

Annabelle hoped that Chloe wouldn’t notice her hesitation in trying to define her relationship with Jasper, but she clearly did. Chloe was canny and smart. Annabelle could see why she had gone into journalism. She was also beautiful. Annabelle understood why Jasper liked her because if the circumstances were very different, she would have liked her too. She also noticed Chloe's own hesitation in introducing herself. Chloe wasn't sure of her current relationship status with Jasper either.

“Hi, Annabelle. It's good to meet you.” Chloe held out her hand and Annabelle shook it. “Are you... one of... them?”

Annabelle frowned, but nodded, guessing what she meant by “one of them.” Not a human or a ghoul.

“I think I remember your name from around campus,” Chloe said. “Do you know Juan?”

“Yeah, he was in my protest group and we used to work together.”

Chloe nodded. “He name dropped you a few times. Everyone was wondering why you'd left school. I guess now we know.”

Annabelle chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, well... it wasn't my idea, but I kind of had to. It's hard for me to attend classes during the day, you know.”

“Yeah... no, I get it,” Chloe said, nodding with an awkward smile.

“I'm hoping to do an online course to finish my degree once things... settle down,” Annabelle said.

Chloe smiled a little more genuinely. “That's a good idea.”

The whole time, Jasper watched them both. He was still quietly amazed that Chloe was in his presence and aware of him. True, she had freaked out at first, but now she was calm. She was talking to Annabelle. He had never thought that this would happen. No... that's not true. He had hoped that this would never happen, but now it was. The shock of it hadn't faded yet. He suspected it wouldn’t for a long time. Her words of horror when she first recognised his face still echoed in his ears. “What did they do to you?!”

“So, how did you meet Jasper?” Chloe asked.

“He uh...” Annabelle looked at him, trying to think about how to phrase her answer. “I... after I was... turned, I was trying to figure things out and I unintentionally caused some problems and... Jasper was one of the ones who found me and, um... the vampire in change of Hollywood got him to help teach me about... everything.”

“What kind of problems?”

That brought up a painful memory of visiting a lacrosse player's apartment only to discover he had been killed, perhaps to help cover up her actions. “Um... stealing blood from the clinic. Things like that.”

“Oh... I remember that story! That was you?”

Annabelle nodded, looking down.

“And so... you two became friends?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah, we... we've been through a lot together. He's saved my life, I've saved his...”

Chloe glanced from Annabelle to Jasper. Annabelle was so nervous that she would be able to figure them out – she seemed intuitive enough to be able to, and then that she would be mad. Their secret had only just come out to the coterie, and now this...

When it rains, it pours.

“You two seem really close... am I right?” Chloe asked.

Jasper licked his lips anxiously. He knew she had worked it out. “Chloe, I-”

“No, no, it's okay. It's okay,” she assured him quickly. “I'm not mad. It's... it's been a long time. Even I was... starting to move on, trying to date again. I get it. I do. It's okay. I mean... who would have ever thought we'd be here now, talking about this, with you... looking like this and... everything. Right?”

Jasper looked down sadly and Chloe knelt down to his level. She put a finger to his chin to lift his face up to look at her. “It's okay,” she repeated softly, earnestly.

“Everything is very... complicated,” Jasper said, his voice thick with emotion. “I'm still trying to... process you being here and... I need time, I think.” He looked from Chloe to Annabelle. Both women nodded.

“Yeah,” Annabelle agreed. She lowered herself back down to the grass as well.

“Of course,” Chloe added. “I... we all need some time, I think. But hey,” her voice brightened. “We have lots of time now, right?”

The two vampires nodded, a little grimly. “Right,” Annabelle said.

“I'm just glad that... now I have answers, and I got to see you again, Jasper,” Chloe said, her voice soft. “I've missed you, so, so much.”

“I've missed you too,” he confessed. His jaw tightened against more tears. He didn't like being this emotional. He had cried after his embrace, when it hit him that he had to say goodbye to his old life and everything he had ever loved or cared about. He had moved on as best he could, but despite what he had told the others, he had kept one eye on his old life. Now his choice to do that had caught up with him again, bringing with it all the old emotions he had fought down a long time ago.

“He really has,” Annabelle said. “We uh... we found out that you were investigating into his disappearance and he got really upset about it. We found the website.”

“Oh, uh...” Chloe's skin coloured in a light blush. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I was just... trying to make sure there was a record of my findings.”

“You thought the mob was involved?” Annabelle said with a small giggle.

“Well, I don't know! They used to make people disappear all the time! Unless... unless the mob were vampires too?” She sounded excited about that.

Jasper shrugged. “Some, probably.”

“So was it the mob?” she asked him.

“Not in the way you're thinking, no. I'm uh... I'm going to have to ask you to take that website down, please.”

“Sure... okay.” Chloe tilted her head at him studying his face. “Are you okay?”

Jasper shook his head and licked his lips again. “No, not really.”

“Is it your arm? It still looks painful.”

“It hurts, but... that's not what's bothering me.”

“What, then?”

“Chloe, I...” he stopped, re-thinking his words. Something in him wanted to blow up at her, but he restrained himself and spoke as calmly as he could. “You finding out about all of this was one of my worst nightmares. You... becoming like me was, and still is, my worst-case scenario. It would destroy me! My life now... it's a curse. The hunger, my body... It's taken me a long time to simply not hate everything about it. I still hate it, but I can accept it now. But for this to happen to you...” he shook his head. “There are no words for how awful that would be.”

They were all quiet for a long moment.

“Why did you give me that note?” Chloe asked in a soft voice.

“I was hoping that you would move on and forget about me. I didn't realise you'd recognise my handwriting.”

“I didn't want to move on, Jasper. I still love you.”

Jasper's eyes squeezed shut as a blood tear escaped. He wiped it away quickly, looking down and away.

Annabelle bit her lip, still trying to prevent her own tears from falling. She was sad for Jasper and Chloe, but that was also hitting extremely close to home for her. She hadn't spoken to Elle or Mark in a long time, and missed them terribly.

Chloe took a deep breath. “I know that... it's been a long time and that... things are different now, but... hey...” she reached out slowly towards him and stroked Jasper's back, her touch comforting and familiar, “I'm here if you need me, but if you need some time... that's okay too. I've got a lot to learn. There's a lot to figure out.”

Jasper nodded, not trusting himself to speak again yet.

Chloe looked to Annabelle. “You care about him a lot, I can tell.”

Annabelle nodded and swallowed. “Yeah. I, um... I'm sorry, Chloe. Jasper and I... I don't want to keep this from you. We were a... thing, for a while. We have a very close relationship. I don't know if we will still be a thing or not, but...”

Chloe nodded. “It's okay. Like I said, I was... trying to move on too. I can't blame either of you. Five years is a long time.” She gave a little reassuring smile that was tinged with some sadness. She also had tears in her eyes, but hers were clear.

Annabelle was extremely relieved. “I had to give up my old life too and I miss my loved ones so, so much. We... Jasper and I were both lonely... but I... I hope you won't think of it as... cheating?” She was a little afraid to put that word out there, but now that it was, for couldn't take it back.

Chloe sighed, thinking about it. “I don't think so. I think everything is very complicated right now, but... if you two had the type of relationship I think you're talking about... no, I'm not mad. How long ago did you, um... become like this, Annabelle?”

“A few months. It hasn't been that long at all, really.”

“That recent?” Chloe looked surprised.

Annabelle nodded.

“So, are you um... you're not like Jasper, are you like... Eva?”

Annabelle guessed she was referring to the vampire clans. She gave a little laugh and a sniffle. “No, I wish though. Eva is so cool.”

“Yeah... she really is,” Chloe said in a faint, dreamy tone.

“But, um... no. I'm more of a... super strong kind of vampire.”

“How strong?” Chloe asked.

“I can uh,” Annabelle thought of an example. “I can push a really big truck all by myself.”

Chloe's eyes lit up, and Annabelle recognised that excitement. It was the same kind she felt about the more interesting vampire things she had experienced. She had been feeling less and less of that excitement lately. Seeing it in Chloe made Annabelle feel a little strange. Kindred society still felt fairly new to her, but she was quickly gaining experience and losing her naivete. Soon, the same was going to happen to Chloe.

“That's really cool,” Chloe said.

Annabelle shrugged and nodded with a little smile. “Yeah, it, kind of is, but at the same time... if someone offered me a chance to give it up go back to my old life tomorrow, I'd take it.”

Chloe studied Annabelle's face. Annabelle tried to put herself in Chloe's place. What if it had been Elle who had been turned instead of her? Would she, like Elle and like Chloe now, want to be embraced as well to be with her loved one forever? If someone had asked Annabelle that question a year ago, she would have said yes instantly, but now, knowing what she knew about the hunger and the danger and the bullshit politics and the blood... she didn't think she would.

Annabelle looked at Jasper, who was still quiet. He clutched his injured arm to his chest, looking at the ground. He looked guilty and regretful. Annabelle bit her lip, her heart aching for him and everything he had been through and put himself through. She could not bring herself to be mad at him. Not one bit.

“Chloe, if you two... um... if you and Jasper...” Annabelle struggled to voice her thoughts.

“If we... get back together?” Chloe offered.

Jasper looked up at the two of them. He felt like he was being pulled into two different directions. He had never had to choose between two girls before, not like this. For it to be happening now, five years into his existence as a Nosferatu was kind of darkly humorous.

Annabelle nodded. “Yeah. That would... I mean, I would miss him, but that would be okay,” she said sadly. “So long as you both are happy.” Her put her hand over her wrist with Jasper's bracelet around it. She would be devastated, but at the same time, she also wanted Jasper to be happy, and if that meant him being with Chloe instead of with her, then, well... so be it. She always knew that just because she was polyamorous, that didn't mean all of her romantic partners would be okay with multiple partners too. That's always the risk.

“Well... I don't know yet,” Chloe looked to Jasper. “We'll see, I guess.”

Jasper nodded.

Annabelle sighed. “We'll still be friends, at least, right?” she asked.

Jasper nodded again and glanced up at Annabelle. “Of course.”

Regardless of what happened, they still had their Blood Bond. There was no way he could ask Eva, or any of the other Tremere, to help them break it, not after what he had witnessed tonight. If he wanted it gone, it would have to be the old fashioned way of keeping away from Annabelle and not drinking her blood for many months. He didn’t know how long. A year? More?

“But you want some time to... sort things out,” Annabelle said.

“I need some time, yes,” Jasper clarified. “Let me be clear. I... care deeply about both of you, but with everything going on... I don't want to be forced to decide right now. I can't. I...” His voice broke and he snarled, an angry, inhuman sound. He was hungry, tired and in pain. His Beast clawed at his throat and chest, calling for him to rip both of these women apart, love be damned. His body and soul hurt. He was nearing the end of his rope.

Both Chloe and Annabelle looked concerned and both reached out for him. He flinched away. He caught himself flinching and his face crumpled again, ashamed to be afraid of the touch of these two women whom he loved.

“It's okay,” Annabelle said gently.

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed.

“We have time. It's okay,” Annabelle repeated. “You need to rest and heal. Go home. Sleep. Tomorrow night we can...” she glanced at Chloe. “We can talk some more, right? Or, I don't know if...”

“We'll sort something out. I don't know what Eva is planning yet,” Chloe said. She swallowed, upset at Jasper's obvious pain. “I should um... go back up to the Observatory.” She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb and stood up again. “Annabelle... can I trust you to look after him for me?”

Annabelle blinked and bit her lip to stop an uprising of emotion. She nodded. “Of course,” she said with a slight crack in her voice. She also stood up.

“Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?” Chloe said with a little forced laugh.

Annabelle smiled. “That's hard, but I'll try.”

“Okay, good.” Chloe smiled again bravely at them. Jasper slowly got to his feet, his tired blood working to obey Annabelle's command to go home. “See you tomorrow night,” Chloe said with a little wave.

Jasper and Annabelle waved back and watched Chloe walk over the hill and away. She was wiping her eyes on her sleeve as she went.

Annabelle put her hand slowly on Jasper's good arm. He tensed, like an animal that had been beaten and was expecting another blow to come. “Come on. Let's go,” she said gently.

Jasper walked with Annabelle down to the river and into his sanctum. He didn't say a word. She took him into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed. He sighed, relaxing minutely. He was always a little more at ease in here, despite what was going on in the world around them. Annabelle also sighed. It had been a heavy week.

“So, I guess... this is it?”

Jasper blinked at looked at Annabelle slowly. “How do you mean?”

“Are we...” Annabelle sniffled, “done?”

“I don't know.”

“I don't want to break up,” Annabelle whimpered. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don't want to either.” With extreme hesitation, Jasper reached for her hand with his good one, but paused before touching her. She gave him a watery smile.

“I'm not warded. No wards here.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “So... you're going to take some time?”

Jasper nodded. “Yeah. I've made a huge mess of things and... I need to figure them out.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Annabelle nodded. It made sense and though she was afraid of being alone again, she had to respect his wishes.

Jasper brought Annabelle's hand to his chest. He could sense her resolve starting to crumble. “Whatever happens though... I'll cherish our time that we had together... and I'm sure that we'll make more good memories in the future.”

Annabelle smiled again, weakly. “That's such a cheesy line.”

A tiny smile crept onto Jasper's face. “It's true though. You've made my life considerably better these past few months, and I love you and I thank you for that.”

Annabelle leaned in and gave him a little kiss. “Same.”

For a small, lovely moment, they smiled and touched foreheads.

Annabelle pulled back and watched him as he tried to move his bad arm into a more comfortable position. “You should try to heal that.”

Jasper nodded. “I will but...”

“You need blood?”

“Yeah. Yes please.”

Annabelle wiped her eyes, slipped out of her jacket, rolled up her sleeve and presented Jasper with her wrist. The home made bracelet stood out against her skin. “I'm never going to take this friendship bracelet off, by the way,” she said.

“Good.” Jasper held her arm steady with his right hand and sunk his fangs into the flesh of Annabelle's arm. Annabelle winced and willed her Vitae to flow into him. She was getting used to the pain of the bite. It was always worth it for the good feelings that followed. She sighed as the sweet pleasure flowed through her, making her core quiver and her Beast grumble. She rested a hand on his leg, wanting to touch more of him, but reminding herself to hold back. He needed his space. That meant no more sexy dates with him for a while.

A few seconds later, Jasper licked his cold tongue across her skin and pulled back. He reclined back onto the bed with another wince, shifting to get comfortable. “Thank you, Annabelle,” he mumbled.

She rolled down her sleeve and gave him a little smile. “You're welcome.”

Jasper licked his fangs clean, then gritted them as he tried to heal his scorched arm. Annabelle watched, frowning in concern. Slowly, the blackness disappeared from his upper arm and the flesh on his hand filled out a little. Jasper hissed and grunted in discomfort. “That's all,” he panted. “I can't do any more right now.”

“That's okay,” Annabelle reassured him, though it sounded to him like she was also trying to reassure herself. “You'll be alright.”

She wanted to lay down next to him. He wanted that too. He had grown so used to having her body next to his. Normally, she would not have hesitated, but she was still trying to figure out where she stood in their relationship now. Annabelle checked the time on her phone. “Dawn is like an hour away. Um... I can go, if you want me to.”

Jasper shook his head. “I'd like you to stay. Please? Just for now? I don't think... I should be alone.”

Annabelle bit her lip and nodded. She went around and turned on a few of their battery operated candles. She wiped her eyes again as she did so. She had been holding back the tears for so long, that a few had to escape at some point.

“You can cry if you want to now,” Jasper said from the bed. “It's okay.”

Annabelle grabbed a tissue and crawled into bed alongside him, careful of his injury. He held her with his good arm as she let herself cry.

“I'm sorry... I tried to be strong for you,” she said between faint sobs.

“You were. You still are. All you've ever done is give me strength,” Jasper assured her. He stroked her shoulder.

“We'll be okay though, right? You and me and... Chloe and Eva?”

“I hope so,” Jasper sighed. “We'll... find a way to make it work.”

Annabelle clung to him, crying thick blood tears into her tissue.

She calmed eventually. Jasper was laying still and quiet. Annabelle thought he might have fallen asleep, but his icy eyes were looking at her when she glanced up at his face. “I hope this isn’t the end of us... of this,” she whispered.

“I don't think it will be,” he said softly. “Not the end forever. Sleep now. Things will be okay.”

Annabelle nodded and forced herself to relax into the pillows. Jasper kept his good arm wrapped snugly around her and closed his eyes. The light from the battery candles flickered and danced across the dark walls of the sanctum.

The sun came up. The mortals and ghouls living in L.A. went about their lives, with their own jobs, loves, losses and personal dramas. The Kindred of L.A. slept, their futures and relationships as uncertain as anyone's in the city. It was a new day.

Opinions on Uncanny X-Men #7:

*Semi Spoilers*

You know it’s kind of bad when your hoping that you read the release date wrong and because of the holiday season this comic will be postponed for next week because you just need a break from all the disappointment… but alas, it was NOT postponed.

God was this issue…just plain stupid. There’s just no way to even put it nicely; instead of feeling any sort of stakes it just felt like worthless preaching around ‘all decisions are hard, nothing’s black or white’.

This issue exists SOLELY to absolve the X-Men from being assholes…without the X-Men ACTUALLY admitting that they made mistakes but by having Hisako ‘realize it all last second’. And to apparently try and make Glob look badass… which…kind of defeats the whole purpose of his character.

Notes: * Apparently Armor and Glob are trying to find a way out of AOA and Pixie and Rockslide are planning on murdering X-Man… * The weird mix of Glob trying to be funny but also becoming really violent at times…just doesn’t work and makes him seem really creepy * X-Man’s back story * I could believe both Pixie and Rockslide could be down for murder…what irritates me is that there is literally NO MENTION of either one’s past-Pixie WENT THROUGH being taken to Limbo and having her soul taken. Rockslide WATCHED all of his friends horribly die and felt helpless for Brian’s death. Their heel-turn COULD be believable; if their past was actually touched on! HELL, this could all be believable if writers took the time to SHOW these characters seeing the horrors of AOA more. The problem is, is if writers BRING UP the past the main heroes they all idealize as ‘perfect’ stop looking so squeaky clean and in the right with their arguments 🙄 * SERIOUSLY HAS NONE OF THE X-OFFICE EVER READ NEW X-MEN???!! * Everyone changing their stances conga line for stupid plot reasons… (🙄) * X-Man accurately states that in all likeliness the X-Men are going to just leave your asses here… * M'Kraan Crystal WILL NOT be the Deus Ex Machina like it was in the original AOA (sure it won’t, writers, sure it won’t… 🙄) * Glob’s badass moment (CAN we STOP trying to make Glob a thing Brisson?!) *Why is Glob calling Santo Vic?? Are we really supposed to believe Glob can figure out a way to defeat Santo that no one knew about when he can’t even get his name right??? Do the writers know the difference between Anole and Rockslide, anymore?? Have they just morphed into the same person in Marvel writers minds because they’ve been friends for so long?? Where the HELL are the Editors on this??! Is this like Anole’s arm where it’s just become such a problem to remember NXM’s names that they’re just all going to get called Victor?? These are all valid questions I have… *The generic ‘I’m not a killer’ plot point ( Thought all the NXM basically got over the ‘don’t kill’ thing in KYOST’s series…except maybe Julian, but even then he had the whole Karima moment…) * Where the HELL is Pixie’s souldagger?!! If she can TELEPORT shouldn’t she STILL in story have that as well?!! * If Santo doesn’t need to eat or need Oxygen, can he choke?? (This question is me being sarcastic because I know the answer Marvel-NO HE CAN’T!) * Hisako making ANOTHER mood shift and deciding to kill X-Man while monologuing about how she understands the adult X-Men now (sigh).

So…Overall:

Honestly…I wouldn’t even bother buying this issue.

It’s predictable, literally NOTHING from NXM is ever going to be addressed with the motivations of the characters, and again all this series is- is Marvel basically telling NXM fans to shut up. It’s ‘See we addressed your complaints’, without ACTUALLY addressing them. It’s essentially like taking a computer to a repair store only for the tech person to say ‘it’s fixed’ even though it still won’t turn on. It’s ‘The NXM are kinda in this comic and their issues kinda addressed, but with the slant of the adult X-Men were right and also M-Day/KYOST never really happened apparently…’

Since it’s the holiday season- DON’T pick this up and instead have a nice holiday. Use that comic book money to buy a new outfit, wine, hot chocolate, etc…. Spend that extra 15 minutes reading a book, or spending time with your loved ones; because you will feel like you wasted 15 minutes of you life when you read this issue.

At the very least-postpone reading it for another week and have a nice disappoint-free holiday… (Unless the gifts you received from friends and family were horrid and you’re already pretty disappointed-I really can’t help you with that…)

Because all this is, is just going to potentially make you angry and/or largely disappointed.

Gotham - ‘Ruin’ Review

Zsasz: "I did not make that building go boom Jim!"

After two sufficient episodes, and one jerry-built episode, 'Ruin' delivers easily the best chapter so far of Season 5's no man's land arc, jam-packing all of Gotham's best qualities on the front lines.

Last week, an unknown assailant bombed Haven, the refuge taken over by the GCPD to protect the civilians still trapped within the city. Gordon has no suspect at the moment, but an act as broad as this means it could really be anybody. And very understandably, Gordon's redundant speeches are not enough this time to quell the survivors' fear and rage. But at long last, Season 5 continues to give me glimpses of a more valiant and sympathetic side to Gordon as he struggles to keep the morale of his fellow officers intact, and works urgently to protect as many individuals as he can in the immediate wake of Haven's bombing.

Though 'Ruin' is still split into two separate subplots like previous episodes, the narrative of 'Ruin' has a more orderly flow to it, simply because Gotham is taking advantage of one of its most prominent gifts - its cast. Rather than having each character more allocated to their individual stories (or even worse a crime, just not having them show up at all), they are all in some way or another either involved in the search for the Haven bomber, or they're involved in the continuing pursuit of Jeremiah Valeska. Characters that have felt neglected lately, such as Nygma, Lucius, Alfred and Jeremiah, now all get at least one opportunity to be dubbed 'scene-stealer' in 'Ruin'.

Because he lost men in the bombing too, Oswald proposes a truce with Gordon so that they may combine resources and bring the bomber to justice. Since the premiere of Season 5, I've felt that Oswald should have started off this year from the get-go working alongside the GCPD. And the reason for that is because Season 4 made it a point to establish that Oswald, by comparison to other rouges, possesses a more sane and logical approach to his criminal activity. Oswald simply needs order and structure to run a prosperous criminal empire. The chaotic antics orchestrated by the Valeska brothers in Season 4 that upset the established order of Gotham's municipal formation goes very much against Oswald's rule of thumb, which was why he was so quick to turn on Jerome too. But since this alliance was likely an inevitably anyway, it's a mere nitpick for me. (That being said, it was a really dumb move for Oswald to give away his and the GCPD's position through a bullhorn when they were pursuing their suspect. Even Tony Stark, the guy who gave his home address out in a video threat to a terrorist, would see that and shake his head in stupefaction.)

Oswald and the GCPD follow up on a tip given by Barbara which leads them to none other than Victor Zsasz. Of all the characters that could flourish in no man's land, I've been especially curious this season to see the shenanigans of the gunslinger Zsasz. Anthony Carrigan's comedic take on Zsasz, reinterpreting the character more as a fusion between Deadpool and the Man with No Name, has made him one of the series' best guest-appearance characters. That being said, after Season 3 and his consistent failures to assassinate Gordon per Carmine Falcone's decree despite talking up a storm about how no one ever sees him coming, I can't say I buy Zsasz's gloating in the precinct when he assures Gordon and Bullock he didn't bomb Haven; Zsasz's reasoning is that if it was him, there'd be no survivors. I'm sure a shopping cart with one bad wheel is more fruitful than Zsasz with a firearm.

Oswald remains vengeful towards Zsasz for selling him out to Sofia Falcone last year and believes that Zsasz's denial means nothing, and that the blatherskite should be executed, a decision that is met with unanimous approval from Haven's survivors in the style of a kangaroo court (one reminiscent of Scarecrow's own hearings from The Dark Knight Rises). I always appreciate these tiny callbacks like Oswald still bitter towards Zsasz, or a desecrated 'Make Gotham Safe Again' campaign poster from Season 3 appearing in the streets, because it keeps each season from feeling disjointed from the others, and given how many writers Gotham has had staffed over the years, that feature comes up time and again. But because one does not simply kill Victor Zsasz, Gordon decides the 'innocent until proven guilty' doctrine still needs to be upheld, and frees Zsasz. Whether it's to repay the favor, or maybe because he realizes Gordon is essential to Gotham's rebuilding, Zsasz chooses afterwards to not kill off Gordon either. Because Zsasz routinely comes and goes throughout the series, this may be the very last we see of him, and so I felt it was a nice way for him and Gordon to part there - both have come quite a ways since the days of Season 1 where Zsasz was always aiming something lethal at Gordon's head.

Meanwhile, Ed Nygma continues meager efforts to understand the nature of his blackouts. For weeks, I had given up wondering if Gotham was going to give us any hints at all about Nygma's arc this season, and instead decided that maybe his story was appropriately meant to be a riddle itself. We finally get some answers to Nygma in 'Ruin' that completely revolutionize the way we'll look at all of Season 5. In his quest to follow up on a clue he had left himself, Nygma is bargained with by Lucius Fox to help him and the GCPD understand the nature of Haven's bombing. Nygma agrees, and before long, the two concur that the assailant used a rocket launcher from the outside to ignite the initial explosion within Haven. We haven't seen Fox and Nygma interact with each other since Season 3's 'How The Riddler Got His Name', and I very much enjoy their energy and possibly even dormant affinity for each other. I suspect that in another timeline where Nygma never went down a path of crime and corruption, he and Fox would have probably worked well alongside each other within the GCPD.

Also contrary to what I thought might have been Nygma's shtick this season, he actually doesn't play up the 'I've-lost-my-marbles' mindset at all this episode, instead returning to the traits of egoism and lacing riddles throughout his speech, a pleasant blend almost between the old Ed and Riddler. Following his and Fox's teamup, Nygma examines the rooftop Haven's bomber must have fired from, and notices an old lady watching him from her apartment across the street. From her, Nygma is horrified to learn that he himself is Haven's bomber (and most likely the one who also fired upon the Wayne Enterprises chopper back in the season premiere). Why Nygma is routinely shifting between alternate consciousnesses we don't know yet, but I would definitely chalk this twist up to one of Gotham's best. If not for Season 5 preparing to introduce Bane, as well as keeping Jeremiah Valeska in the spotlight, I would raise my hopes much higher for the possibility that Riddler in fact is Season 5's main antagonist. It would keep in line with the showrunners' claim that the 'Zero Year' comic inspires much of Season 5, and I personally feel we haven't really seen Riddler yet as a force to be reckoned with, at least not since the end of Season 3.

The other subplot of 'Ruin' is Bruce and Alfred pursuing Selina, simply because Bruce believes if she kills Jeremiah, it may change her for the worse. It's another amusing detail for me that this is where Bruce draws the line in regards to Selina's internal metamorphoses, yet had no problem giving her a plant with atrocious side effects Ivy advertised quite clearly. Though Bruce and Alfred both get past goons working for Jeremiah, in a manner much like how Batman will ambush his foes in the future, they are too late to stop Selina from fatally stabbing Jeremiah. Or so it would seem.

This was the most irking feature of 'Ruin' for me, and it's not even a fault of the episode - it's a fault of the marketing. Early trailers and promos for Season 5 have clearly shown additional footage of Jeremiah that we haven't gotten to yet in this season, so I don't know why Gotham suddenly thinks they can pull the wool over our eyes, and try to convince us Jeremiah is as deceased as a girlfriend of Spider-Man's who took too hard a fall off the George Washington Bridge. Personally, my money is on Clayface actually being the one Selina made quick work of. He's been absent from the series since Season 3 as well, and would also be a welcome character to see return to the final season.

Right now, I'm still skeptical if the series can follow-up with an episode that lives up to the momentum that was 'Ruin', but I don't say that as if it's a difficult thing for Gotham to accomplish. You have an incredibly talented cast and array of characters that you understand in and out Gotham - savor that while you still can, because it's a fortunate feature for any show to have.

Other Thoughts:

• Gordon tackling Zsasz head-on is a pretty amusing visual, but also another quick and snappy showcase of his increasingly appealing valor.

• Will we ever get to hear Jeremiah laugh? We all know Cameron Monaghan is very capable of the deed, it's a talent that needs to be made the most out of. It'd be like a movie casting James Spader for a role that doesn't require him to talk - indefensible!

• 'Ruin' ends with a sudden cliffhanger showing renewed romantic interest between Gordon and Barbara. Not sure why these two suddenly have the hots for each other again, but with the revelation that Barbara will have some major news for Gordon in one of the oncoming episodes, I guess it's fair that the show needed to pave the road to Barbara Gordon/Batgirl somehow. I don't quite think showing a stork deliver her to Gordon's doorstep in a basket is going to cut it for viewers.

Aaron Studer loves spending his time reading, writing and defending the existence of cryptids because they can’t do it themselves.

Nine Worlds 2018 - Sunday & Homeward

This write up is bought to you by a pack of Nerds, so who the hell knows how coherent it will be by the end.

(Actual footage of me)

From Saturday!

Sunday:

Our Last Best Hope for Science Fiction: 25 Years of Babylon 5

A look at a ground breaking sci-fi series, celebrating a show we love and how it grew from a something set on a space station to something truly special.

(Two Centauri, a starfleet officer, and a Morden(?) walk in to a panel...)

This is the panel I missed the talk on Golems for, and much as I wanted to see the Golems, this was 100% worth the trade, because I’ve never met that many people who are in to B5 before, and it was a really funny and thought provoking panel with some beautiful moments in it, including the moments of silence when we remembered those from the Babylon 5 family who have gone beyond the rim.

There was also discussion of favourite moments from Babylon 5. Mine has to be this, from the Centauri’s final assault on the Narn Homeworld. Peter Jurasik’s acting is superb here, but I love that the writers and director made a place in that episode to show the flipping of Mollari when he realises what he’s done - how out of control and repelled he feels by what should be a moment of triumph. And the moment he starts to work his way back towards some sort of redemption.

I think my favourite quote of the whole thing was by the person cosplaying as Londo Mollari:

"Behold minbari Jesus - his name is Jeff" 

(This psycop lurked for the entire panel. It’s as perfectly creepy and wonderful as it sounds. When I mentioned that on twitter, it devolved in to a Babylon 5 pun war...)

When I came out of the B5 panel, the one person I’d seen with a brain slug had become a collective. And they continued to grow in number throughout Sunday. Props to the person who spent an entire year making brain slugs to give away to strangers at Nine Worlds.

(The frightening brain slug collective. They continued to multiply throughout the day. Possibly the creepiest cosplay of the weekend, just because they continued to multiply.)

History’s Hidden Heroes III

Following two years of back-to-back success, the ‘History's Hidden Heroes’ session returns to its original format of ten to fifteen minute mini-talks by individual presenters discussing their favourite figures lost - or pushed aside - from mainstream history. Introduction by EK McAlpine, with talks from Tara, Avery, and Reiley.

This session was run by EK, and the speakers were Avery Delany, Tara Brown, and Reiley Daniels who all spoke about people in history who were part of the LGBTQ community, including some who were trans (though not remembered that way), some who were gender non-conforming, some who were openly queer at a time when that was (more) dangerous than now.

Avery spoke about trans masculine people in history, including a pioneering doctor, James Barry (note - while that Wiki article generally avoids using any pronouns at all, there is a source from the time quoted that misgenders Barry, so be careful if that would cause you any distress).

My favourite quote from Avery was “Do some queer history“, but I also really appreciated something I didn’t get the exact words of, but amounted to the idea that someone wouldn’t live as a gender different to the one they were assigned at birth for over 50 years if they did not actually identify as that gender. I really wish I’d got the actual words, because that quote stuck with me as much as anything.

Tara Brown spoke about three women of colour who were pioneers in blues and jazz - and sexuality, Ma Rainey, Bessie Smith, and Gladys Bentley.

One of the most interesting, and awful, takeaways from this talk was the brief discussion about how there is some difference in the historical record as to the sexuality women presented, and that this is due to McCarthyism which basically forced at least Gladys Bentley to present herself as no longer a lesbian. It made me so cross to think of a person as comfortable in their sexuality as Bentley having to forcibly change themselves because of the massive risks that being out and proud served in the backwards looking 1950s America.

Reiley spoke about a quack physician called Charles Hamilton (misgendered practically everywhere on the internet), and the importance of checking multiple sources and subjecting them to due scrutiny.

If anyone enjoyed this panel is interested in other hidden heroes from sources that aim at diversity in who and what they talk about (and use content notices), I highly recommend @missedinhistory, Sawbones, and @rejectedprincesses.

The Future of Nine Worlds

It's time for a chat about Nine Worlds and where it's going. If you have strong thoughts about what you'd like to see the event become, and would like to get involved in making things happen, this is your in-person opportunity to talk about the options and understand how we got where we are.

Went to this, and I honestly don’t have a lot to say about it - not a lot a could say about it because I’m very much not the right person to speak about what happened in the majority of the session.

I will say that the announcement that Nine Worlds was re-constituting after this year’s con felt like a blow to the gut.

(This was an incredibly powerful moment, and to know that even though the current director is stepping back a future nineworlds is possible meant so very much.)

(Main point by what may turn out to be the future team was that Nine Worlds is too precious to lose)

CN for discussion of police at con, and a failure act appropriately to the stated concerns of a con-goer (and more concerned people who did not speak about it at the Future of Nine Worlds panel). When this section is over there will be a delightful gif of Wonder Woman deflecting bullets so scroll below her if you will find this section challenging.

What happened next is best summed up by Alecto101 in this post which I urge you all to read (also please read this followup thread by the same person). Her recollection of what happened at that panel is extremely accurate. I was there, and that is what happened. It was not dealt with adequately by anyone there in an official capacity. Most people who wanted to say something in follow up raised the fact that Alecto101 had not had her question and concerns adequately addressed, and when the people on the stage did so, it was in an inappropriate way that put the emotional and intellectual workload back on the person who had rightly raised legitimate concerns.

I have absolutely no patience with the people who immediately strawmanned (Oh, you don’t want police there at all - you can’t exclude attendees based on job) - I was there and at no point did Alecto101 suggest that.

What I’m trying to say is something EK said much more eloquently: “Concerns about how police participate in 9W and the separation of their jobs and their everyday lives as fans are ABSOLUTELY valid and not the same as “ban cops”.“

The developments since have been a little more positive, and I’m hoping that the reconstitution can be used as a way to build in representation of PoC from the beginning rather than trying to add on later. The way 9W works for members of the LGBTQ or disabled communities needs to be the way it works for the BaME community too, or it is not diverse (I’ve paraphrased here. I’m pretty sure I’ve just mangled the original quote. I can’t remember who said it but it wasn’t originally me).

For followup, I recommend reading Avery Delany’s thread here and this thread on the official Nine Worlds twitter account. This web page from Nine Worlds is also very important reading. If you have the physical, emotional, and mental spoons to do so, please consider signing up to be part of the future.

Finally, if you’re thinking about writing to Alecto, please first consider this tweet from the official Nine Worlds Team: “We do not want people to interact with the blogger on our behalf. We do not need defending. We do not want them pursued again for conversations they don’t want to continue. Their opinions are valid and we are glad to have heard them. “ and just DON’T.

After that I had more con crash, and tried to manage it myself in the quiet room, before worrying that my nose blowing was going to upset those who had sensory overload and needed genuine quiet, and ran away to my room where E wrapped me in a blanket and fed me biscuits until I was human again. She is awesome and I’m totally in her debt. (Thread here of what I struggled with wrt the quiet room - I am not saying it should go away BTW - I don’t know what the right answer is, just that I found it challenging for my own particular issues)

The end of the con was then barrelling towards me at a terrifying speed. I went off site for food with some friends, and then we all formed half of a team for the unofficial “The Not The End of the Con Quiz” as team Last Best Hope for Victory, and we only went and bloody won! Massive props to @knittedace and @laalratty who basically carried our team through two rounds pretty much on their own (even though one of our team who shall remain nameless nearly submitted “Aragorn” as the name of the giant spider in Harry Potter, which was caught before we submitted for marking, but they shall not live it down... for a while anyway :))

(Team Last Best Hope for Victory. Actual quiz victors!)

Went to bed at midnight after several rounds of Slash, which was really the perfect end to a great con (even if I did keep crashing).

(Me on my way home. I look pretty knackered there, but it doesn’t even touch how completely mentally (and to some extent physically) exhausted I was, and still am. Completely worth it though.)

I may have listened to this on the journey home and sobbed. Like I said on my Friday post, it’s somehow become the song of the con for me.

Runaways Comics Reading Guide

So, you wanna read Runaways, huh? Maybe the wait for season 2 is taking too long and you’re desperate for content or you heard that this amazing series was revived last September. Whatever the reason, you're in luck, because I sold my soul to Brian K Vaughn and all of his characters when I was 12!

You're also in luck because, compared to some other comic book series, Runaways is a little less confusing to figure out. Now, it seems a bit daunting at first, but the series is easily digestible, and you could easily get through all the comics in a couple days if you had a lot of free time. However, if you don't want to read their smaller arcs, I will note which ones are alright to skip. Here's my self determined reading order:

Runaways- Volume 1 (18 issues): must-read! Duh, this is where the story starts! The TV show takes off from here, but fair warning, the comics are radically different from the show (understandably, tv shows and comic books are much different mediums with different capabilities, but that's a different post). This is where you get to know our gang and the conflict with their parents, which is pretty important because the backstories are a lot different than in the show. 

Runaways- Volume 2 (30 issues): vitally important, even if it will rip you apart inside and crush all of your dreams. At least through issue 24. After issue 24, our Lord BKV left, so some people regard the rest of the series as trash (tbh joss whedon is trash sooo). I guess from issue 25 onward, it's not all that important to read them, but I did and I would.

Civil War: Young Avengers & Runaways (4 issues): nonessential to any plot, but I’m Young Avengers trash as much as I am Runaways trash, so I loved it. You may find it a bit boring if you’re not familiar with the Young Avengers. Note: this limited series takes place in the middle of Runaways Vol 2, I think in between #24 and #25. Since there’s no important plot, it doesn’t matter if you read it then, but definitely don’t read it before volume 2 to avoid spoilers. 

Secret Invasion: Runaways/Young Avengers (3 issues): this one actually DOES take place between v2 and v3! like the other crossover, it’s not essential to the plot of Runaways. If you’re not familiar with the Young Avengers, you probably won’t understand what’s happening. As a Young Avengers fan, though, I loved it! 

Runaways- Volume 3 (14 issues): like I said, most people find these ones to be throwaway comics, but personally I would read literally any content with these characters so like,, yeah. You should read V3 if you're going to read the Runaways arcs in Daken and Avengers Academy.

Daken: The Dark Wolverine- Issues #17-19: not necessary to read at all, maybe a lil interesting if you read Vol 3 Runaways bc it ends on a cliffhanger and this is the only time in comic canon where it's addressed, even in the vaguest way possible ("yeah, this character got hit by a fucking car. But they're fINE. Just pErFeCT.")

Avengers Academy- Issues #27-28: must read if you read Vol 3! You can either read the whole series just for the Runaways arc, or just read these 2 issues with the Runaways (which is what I did, but I went back and read the whole series bc I loved the characters, and they will appear again in a moment!) read for some wholesome dino fun (not,, but.. ehhhhh angst w a happy ending???)

Avenger's Arena (18 issues): battle royale meets teenage superheroes. A bunch of teens w powers (incl. Nico, chase, darkhawk, and some people from Avengers Academy) are thrown onto an island designed to kill them & make them kill each other. I understand that this kind of gore isn't what everyone looks for in a comic book and it's a bit childish, but I found it entertaining. Not necessary to read if you want to pick up the new series, but its events are referenced.

Avengers Undercover (10 issues): I didn't enjoy these that much (actually I probably spent more time ranting about these comics than anything, I really didn't enjoy them at all), but they are a continuation of avengers arena so you should probably read them if you read AA. Completely nonessential to understanding anything in any other comics ever.

Runaways- Volume 4 (4 issues): to be honest, I never actually read these. I tried, but the characters aren't even in it?? Why is a part of runaways??? The world may never know. Maybe if you understand more about Battleworld then it's more entertaining, but I was completely lost and confused.

A-Force- Volume 1 (5 issues): like Vol 4 Runaways, this takes place on battleworld, so like Vol 4, I was very lost and confused. However Nico is a main character and all the characters are totally badass and amazing and I have officially adopted Singularity so yeah? Also America Chavez is a BAMF. I think I'd recommend reading them? Sooo many bi vibes (bibes?) from Nico. since this takes place on a different world, it's not really relevant, but it sets up A-Force Vol 2.

A-Force- Volume 2 (10 issues): takes place back in the same world as the original runaways comics. I don't wanna spoil anything but there's more badass bisexual Nico. All in all, the series isn't necessary to understand any Runaways plots, but they are briefly mentioned in the new comics. They're also super awesome and if you like Nico you should definitely read them!!

Avengers AI (12 issues)- I've gotta be honest I never particularly cared for Victor so I didn't read these, what happens is probably important to the new Runaways but like,, I figured it out so you can too. I mean, I'll get around to reading them one of these days, I'm sure they're great comics but ya victors a ho

Runaways- Volume 5 (9 issues thus far): the new series!! Some characters come back from the dead and The Band Gets Back Together!!!!!!

I'd say if you just want to read the new series, the only ones completely vital are the Runaways comics, up to Vol 2 #24. However, all the rest are amazing (albeit frustrating sometimes) comics that I highly recommend you read!! They add a lot more depth to the characters and their experiences. I’m sure I’m missing some comics that they’ve appeared in, but I think these are all of the important ones? Correct me if I’m wrong! 

Okay, okay this all sounds amazing. I'm so ready! How do I read them???

First of all, no one is ever ready. Second of all.. you have a few options, not all of them everyone will like

Buy them. Either at marvel.com, on their app, or at a comic book store.

Take them out from the library. I've never actually done this but once comics have been released issue by issue, they're then published as a volume. I'd assume some libraries might have these consolidated comics.

Read them online. I know, I know, this is bad. But realistically, not everyone can afford to buy every single comic, and not everyone has access to a library where they can take them out. HOWEVER, I'm begging you not to use this option for the new comics. Marvel can (and HAS in the past) cancel the series if it's not making enough money. Each issue is $4USD. Every issue that you can buy counts. If you don't have access to a comic book store where you can buy them (I get it, I live in morocco), you can buy a digital copy online on Marvel's website or their app. Personally, I only own one random copy from Runaways Vol 2 that I found in a comic book store in Madrid, but I own every single new comic either hard copy, digitally, or both. Please, please, please support these comics whichever way you can!! Now that I've made my plea, you can find all of the comics online here.

I hope maybe my rambling helped you somehow. I absolutely adore these characters and these stories. Feel free to send me a message if you have any questions or want to talk about the comics! Happy reading, and welcome to the abyss.

Code: Realize Anime Episode 2 Review!

It’s a little late, but here’s our review of Episode 2 of the Code: Realize anime! As this post is long, we’ve placed this under a cut to save some space. We hope you enjoy it! <3

Mod S 

This past episode of Code: Realize honestly left me more concerned than relieved. I'm not necessarily saying that I think everything about the new episode was bad, but it really left me unsatisfied. 

To try and keep a positive note, I'll talk about some things that I did enjoy. Finis' exchange with Queen Victoria was quite enjoyable. She's absolutely gorgeous in the anime; even more than in the visual novel I think. It showed us what kind of character she's going to be, and it seems that they are focusing on the side of Queen Victoria that shows up in Victor's route. I honestly expected that, so I'm quite pleased. Though she is more of an antagonist in his route, Victoria receives far more character development there. I'm glad they are attempting to do her justice. Finis himself is still amazingly represented in the anime as well. 

The animation's quality has, the majority of the time, kept up. For an otome anime, I'm honestly quite impressed with how well it's animated. Usually, more widely popular anime have the best budgets and therefore have the best animation, so I knew that it wouldn't be the most beautifully animated show when I walked into it. But even still, I'm glad that it has received at least this much. In particular, I think Lupin, Impey and Finis are animated incredibly well. Impey actually gets to show off how expressive he is, and I love that. 

I enjoyed some of the small details that they did end up keeping in the anime: how Lupin stops Van from shooting Cardia (that is mostly the same), details about Cardia not having a human heart, Impey being a good cook, Cardia wanting to touch a loved one, Victor convincing Van to join their cause, and Impey's entire dynamic with Cardia. These parts of this anime is what really makes me glad that it's being made, and I hope that they continue with it as much as possible. 

There were a few changes that I actually ended up liking too: I enjoyed the fact that Victor was the one to explain that Cardia has no heart instead of a random NPC. It felt like a much more intimate scene to me, and I think it is good characterization for Victor. I also enjoyed the conversation Cardia has with Lupin by the riverside where she explains that she longs to touch someone she loves. I think it helped to form the relationship between the two of them. I would much rather have them focus on Lupin's route than just ignore all routes to begin with for the sake of the anime anyway. 

I was also incredibly disappointed in Saint Germain's introduction. His intro in the visual novel was a testament to his mysterious and whimsical personality, and I don't feel like they captured his nature at all there. And this might be a little nitpicky, but I was frustrated they did not show him praying before the meal they ate together. Saint Germain's entire character revolves around the idea of the Christian religion, so why ignore it? Probably not to waste the precious frames of animation. Even still, it's a disservice to his character. 

But, now I have to talk about what disappointed me. I don't enjoy how they changed too much of the outing Cardia has with Lupin, Victor and Impey. I would have enjoyed it more if the three of them had been together from the start, but I do understand that they are trying to focus on Lupin. The entire change to Van's introduction also frustrated me. It was far more interesting in the anime to watch his introduction via a crowd of screaming patrons and to chase everyone out into the woods, but I also understand the need to focus their time and energy (and budget) on other scenes. Nevertheless, Van's introduction was far less interesting than the visual novel's, so I was not impressed. 

And even though the animation is good, there are still some animation critique's that I have. Van Helsing's gun animations are kind of weak, but I think they're holding back the good stuff for the airship race, the train heist and the final confrontations with Finis. Yet, as it stands, I hope Van's animations can at least keep consistent. I also think that Saint Germain is not being animated as he should be. His character model seems a bit awkward in comparison; I think this may be because of how his hair is, and the fact that he is being shown without his cape. I can only hope that they fix his model soon. Basically, I think Saint Germain (so far) is getting the short end of the stick in this show. 

In regards to Episode 2, I feel less like this was Van's introduction and more like a quick attempt to shoehorn him into the story because they had to. I wasn't afraid or transfixed by him like I was in the visual novel, and I honestly do feel that they could have done a better job capturing those feelings. I still think it could have impacted me even though I've already played the game. 

Finally, I'll address some predictions. I definitely think that this will only be a 12 or 13 episode show and that they'll pick specific scenes to focus on each character's backstory. I think Van's will be soon, as Delly's introduction this Saturday. Victor's will probably be after that, followed by Impey's with the introduction of Nemo during the airship race. Saint Germain's will probably come in where it usually does during Lupin's route, with a bit more detail from his own route in regards to the Apostles of Idea. It will likely be an incredibly abridged version, but at least it won't be totally ignored. 

I'm no longer hoping for the inclusion of route specific scenes, save for Lupin. I'm also very wary of how much will stay the same based on what's been changed and cut short so far. I've done my best to abandon any expectations that I had originally as to try and enjoy my favorite franchise receiving more attention, and I feel like that might be the fandom's best course of action at this point. Episode 3 might be the nail in the coffin for me; I might just have to separate the game from the anime entirely so that I can try and have a fun experience. 

Until next time! 

Mod Cheshire

Mod S touched upon many points that I agree with. This episode did not do as I had originally hoped. My biggest issue with the episode was Saint Germain’s lackluster introduction. He’s a mysterious and exciting character, but the anime failed to show any aspects of his personality. Anyone watching the show without having played the game won’t know a single thing about it, which is a bit sad. They won’t be able to get as attached to him as we are. His animations are also really...off. His head looks way too big and his body seems super thin. He’s weird to look at.

Van’s introduction was at least exciting. I was hoping for Van to attack Cardia and Lupin in the middle of the fair, as opposed to an alley, but the anime is really pressed for time, so I can completely understand the changes. His animations are A LOT better in the actual show than they were in the opening, which I’m extremely grateful for. I’m looking forward to his action scenes later on! I hope they’re just as good as they are now.

Aside from that, this episode was rather bleehh. It had nothing exciting to it, and I really wanted to see more of Victor and Impey. We at least got to see Queen Victoria, which is fun. 

I’m really hoping the show gets better you guys. 

Media Diet, Week of April 19th

I am forever working on improving the quality of the deluge of culture I am taking in at all times. Lately, I’ve been especially rigorous about this, as I keep realizing exactly how much valuable time I am wasting slurping up really dumb stuff. In an attempt at accountability (and to make myself ashamed to spend too much time on anything purely dumb), I am going to try logging and posting about the culture I consume. I will analyze what attracts me to the trashier things, and attempt to train myself, little by little, day by day, into better habits.  

Sunday, April 19th:

As I was getting ready and making breakfast, I listened to podcasts as usual — the end of Oh No, Ross & Carrie, and the beginning of Baby Geniuses. I enjoy both of these podcasts a lot, and I think they are good things to listen to, although this particular episode of ONRC went on for too long. I have gone through phases of listening to a lot of political podcasts, but I have recently admitted to myself that I’m not that interested in politics, and that is perfectly fine. I think it’s important for a citizen to remain up to date and aware of what is going on, but I have this sort of weird feeling that smart people are obsessed with politics? And I don’t know why I feel that way. There’s nothing especially noble or intelligent about political governance; quite the opposite most of the time. Politicians are often venal, and even if when they aren’t, the more time you spend paying attention to the largely broken processes they attempt to navigate and massage every day, the worse it probably is for your own sense of hope, and certainly for your own creativity. So I’ve let myself off the hook on this one, and now I mostly listen to humor podcasts and weird fictional things.

As I drank my breakfast (smoothie/coffee) and procrastinated at doing something more worthwhile, I spent probably two hours on Twitter, Instagram, and various websites. This is becoming a big problem for me. On Twitter, I follow mostly comedy writers, liberals, feminists, black Twitter, and weird Twitter (and intersections of all of the above), and some local political organizations. I tweeted a lot this morning, as well. On Instagram, I follow a lot of the same people I do on Twitter, plus a TON of visual artists. I am not a visual artist, but because Instagram is a visual medium, it’s nice to follow artists, and I sometimes find it inspiring — if not to create art myself, at least maybe to make my house look nicer (although I never do). I also follow some old school fashion and lifestyle bloggers who I’ve been following for like ten years, and although I do not find that kind of blogging interesting at all anymore, I am interested in these particular people, and invested in their lives at this point. I also embarrassingly have been paying a good bit of attention lately to a certain terrible influencer, who I won’t name because I don’t want to draw the wrong kind of attention here, but you probably know who she is. She is entirely boring, but people are interested in her for a variety of reasons, and they all have complicated explanations for why. I think it’s that she’s sort of the purest example of the sort of woman (blond, thin, pretty, performatively aspirational yet empty enough to be completely non-threatening to anyone) that middle-class Americans have always been culturally encouraged to admire and, if they are women, to emulate, and yet, it’s so apparent that there is no there there. I imagine most people who follow her are thinking, “I can’t believe I thought I needed to be this in high school!” For me personally, there’s something else to it, and after thinking about it so that I could write it down here, I think it is that I spend a lot of time mildly regretting that I had not been more intentional about pursuing my creative dreams in my 20s (I was sort of dabbling in comedy and performance and writing; I had some talent but little intelligence), but at the same time, when I look back over my work and writings from that time, I am horrified by how stupid I was without realizing it (and not just stupid for my age, because I was surrounded by far more intelligent and creative people who have gone on to do amazing things, and there are many preternaturally wise and hilarious babies who are creating right now). Had I had a bigger platform at the time, I fear I would have looked a lot like a less successful this girl. So, it’s a sort of cautionary tale that really just serves to make me feel better about having avoided exposure I’d now regret (albeit through laziness rather than foresight). And also, being able to realize this now is a reminder that I am at least smarter now than I used to be, so I have been growing in some way, even if it feels like I’ve just been atrophying intellectually and creatively ever since I got a real job. I think now that I’ve written this down, I’m ready to let go of paying attention to her. Also, though, I just feel bad for her, and I want to see what happens to her and if she ends up ok or not. Which possibly sounds nobler than it is — am I really just rubbernecking at an accident? I don’t think I wish her harm. Anyway, in non-shame scrolling, two of my favorite comics on Twitter and Instagram right now are Eva Victor and Alyssa Lamparis. They are both brilliantly hilarious.

The first few chapters of “Joshua”, while working on one of my blog posts about the Old Testament.

A chapter of The High Growth Handbook, for work, which I’m finding more interesting than most business books.

Moral Clarity by Susan Neiman, which I’m not really enjoying. This isn’t necessarily why I’m not enjoying it, but I gave some thought while reading this about why I find the left’s current backlash against “identity politics” to be disingenuous. I mean, other than the fact that it is only white people (and mostly white men) who argue that identity politics are a pointless distraction from real social change. And it’s that nobody — no matter how naive — thinks that we are going to transform all human systems overnight. Abrupt revolutions rarely happen in established societies, and even when they do, they never stick; no matter how you come about it, lasting social change always takes forever. So, eschewing identity politics as a mere distraction implies that those who unfairly have less power and influence under the current system should just be content with their marginalization until we have a new system altogether. And that those who are over-represented in the current system shouldn’t be criticized or made to lose anything in the interests of equity and social justice until we have a new system altogether. That this is the same old self-serving bullshit from a different direction seems so obvious to me, I don’t understand why so many smart people are buying into it. There is no getting around our historical legacy of racial oppression! There’s just no scenario in which white people are not going to have to deal with that first, before we can successfully build systems that are more just and more fair! You have to address both things at the same time, and no, just focusing on economic class is not going to cut it — especially not when so many people pretend that they don’t understand that poverty results from lack of access and limited options, and has little to do with whether you have much money at any given time (in reality, they understand this very well). And I can’t take any leader seriously (no matter how far left) who does not get that, and/or who won’t force their followers to acknowledge it.  

“Where outrage itself is exhausted, even despair is impossible. The resulting inertia is not the result of an ideology, postmodern or otherwise. But anyone who wants to oppose it must oppose an ideology that makes inertia the most rational response.”

Finished Baby Geniuses and started listening to Get Rich Nick as I prepared for my run, and as I showered after my run. Nick V is a good pal of mine from Chicago — we came up through iO at the same time and were on a Harold team together for like a year. He’s hilarious and I enjoy his podcast, but I suspect I partly find it so funny because it’s just very…Nick.

I listen to the same Spotify playlist on every run. I made it for running and it’s all exactly what you’d expect someone like me would listen to while running.

I watched an episode of season 2 of “Big Little Lies” while I ate dinner. I thought the first season (while it had its faults) was perfectly cast and pretty impressively honest in how it dealt with domestic violence and rape. I wasn’t interested enough to seek out season 2, but I recently noticed HBO is streaming some shows for free right now on Amazon Prime (which I have finally, finally canceled because #morals but still have through August), so I started watching it, and I still love the cast. I will watch Laura Dern in absolutely anything, and it’s really fun to watch Reese Witherspoon play what I imagine is basically herself.

Listened to more Get Rich Nick while I cleaned up the kitchen and got ready for bed.

Finished the night off with The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty — she’s one of my faves and I’ve read two of these four collections multiple times, but right now am on The Wide Net which is new to me. Read the titular “The Wide Net” and really enjoyed it and then “A Still Moment,” which was boring but made me want to get my computer out and google Audubon. Then fell asleep reading this weird old novel I’m slowly working through called The Man Who Loved Children.

“‘She’s a lot smarter than her cousins in Beulah,’ said Virgil. ‘And especially Edna Earle, that never did get to be what you’d call a heavy thinker. Edna Earle could sit and ponder all day on how the little tail of the ‘C’ got through the ‘L’ in a Coca-Cola sign.’”

Monday, April 20th:

Instagram on the toilet, Get Rich Nick while I performed my ablutions and made coffee, and Instagram stories and Feedly for a bit while I drank it. I spend less time on this today, the awareness of accountability is already working! About Instagram stories — I usually ignore them altogether but every so often I go through phases of watching them. I find them mostly very boring, but because I mostly follow creatives on Instagram, there’s something inspiring about starting my day by watching a bunch of creative people all around the world making things. At least starting a day off this way (which today fortunately is); starting a work day this way makes me feel an intense despair. I also follow a few farmers, and it’s fun to see their daily lives. And also just a bunch of people who live in gorgeous places around the world. And ok, yeah, a couple of hate follows, which for me are people who I just find so unbelievably grating and irritating in every way that I can’t stop watching them — I just can’t believe they exist and yet aren’t entirely consumed with self-loathing. And I think for me it’s like, I find them so utterly obnoxious in every way, but they still all have lots of people in their lives who truly love them, and that’s affirming to me personally, because I often feel like I couldn’t ask anyone to tolerate me for very long unless/until I’ve attained perfection in every sphere, so it’s a nice reminder to me that that’s not really how people operate. In Feedly, I follow 3 Quarks Daily and The Morning News, some political digests, a number of old school bloggers I’ve been following forever (mostly funny ones), a handful of newsletters (mostly by people who used to be bloggers), and some sustainability bloggers to guilt me into making better choices. I probably spend about 90 minutes on all of this? Which is too much time!

More “Joshua.”

I poke around online and find and follow a handful more artists from around the world on Instagram and/or Twitter. These aren’t really very interesting ones, and so I’ll probably unfollow them soon, but they’re a bunch of diverse young people, and lately I feel out of touch with what young people are doing. One funny thing about young people is they have so much energy and so many interests, so all of them are doing like ten really shitty things — they’re making crappy art, they’re writing nonsense, they’re performing dopey shows, AND they’re in a shitty band. And then they get older and they realize that it takes an incredible amount of time and effort and research and angst to do even one thing semi-well, and at that point, they either disappear or focus. Anyway, I mostly stick to Twitter for these — I only follow artists on Instagram whose work I find genuinely appealing; Twitter is more for people I’m interested in hearing more about how they perceive the world, but am not necessarily interested in what they’re making. Also, for Twitter, I use TweetDeck and make lists, so it’s a lot easier to follow and unfollow groups of people than it is on Instagram. Like I’ll make a list of “possibly interesting” and watch it for awhile, and then I might move two people on it to a more permanent list and then just delete the whole list.

Listen to The Read while I make a smoothie.

Two short stories from an old issue of Salt Hill, both terrible.

A chapter of High Growth Handbook, and two of Moral Clarity.

Listened to The Read and Scam Goddess while gearing up for run, walking back from run showering, cooking dinner, and cleaning up the kitchen. Usual playlist on run.

Spent some lost time on Twitter and Instagram while crouching on the floor and shivering in my sweaty running clothes, and then again after dinner while sitting on the couch. I’m starting to realize that I look at social media when what my brain really wants to be doing is just….sitting and staring and not taking in anything.

Three Welty stories, “Asphodel” (enjoyable), “The Winds” (in which Welty is starting to find the voice she will master in The Golden Apples), and “The Purple Hat” (eh). Interrupted, I am embarrassed to admit, by looking at Twitter and my email and also reading some articles about Welty.

The Man Who Loved Children

Tuesday, April 21st:

There are two things I want to stop doing, and I did both today. First, after my alarm went off, I spent 90 minutes hitting the snooze button and also pursuing Twitter and Instagram in bed. My entire goal is to reserve as much time for myself in the evenings as possible, for doing what I want to be doing. And I waste a lot of that limited time in procrastinating what I don’t want to be doing. And this is the first place it happens — lounging in bed staring at my phone instead of getting up and going to work.

Finished Scam Goddess and started The High Low while I got ready, made coffee and my smoothie.

After work, I did the second thing I want to stop doing — I spent 90 minutes sitting on the couch looking at Twitter, Instagram, Reddit, and rubbernecking at a long train wreck thread on NextDoor (people are wilding out at this point), procrastinating getting my running kit on and going out for my exercise. All together, this is THREE HOURS of wasted time that could go toward my evenings, where I get to do the stuff I want to do! I’m robbing myself of this valuable time.

I walked for most of my run because I was sore from some exercises I did, and I finished The High Low. When I got home, I listened to Office Ladies, which is not a very good podcast, but it’s just mindlessly comforting to listen to and I like thinking about The Office, which is mindlessly comforting to watch, as I took a shower, made dinner, and cleaned up the kitchen.

The Man Who Loved Children

Wednesday, April 22nd:

Well, I still hit the snooze for an hour but I DIDN’T browse Twitter before I got out of bed. Listened to Lady to Lady while I got ready and made a smoothie and coffee.

Couple of breaks during my workday, during which times I looked at Twitter, Reddit, and Instagram.

I worked later than usual and it was rainy out, so I didn’t go out for exercise, but I still spent TWO HOURS on the couch mindlessly scrolling (Twitter, Instagram, NextDoor train wreck). So, all told, I still wasted three hours on garbage today.

Listened to Lady to Lady and Your Favorite Band Sucks while I made dinner, ate it, cleaned up after it, and got ready for bed. Your Favorite Band Sucks takes down a lot of bands I genuinely like, and I truly do enjoy hearing people rip apart things that I enjoy for some reason (cultural masochism). This episode, though, is on Billy Joel, which I feel is low-hanging fruit, although it reminds me of when this guy I had a massive crush on in high school got super into Billy Joel (I know) and so I spent a few months listening to him and trying to convince myself I also thought he was brilliant. Listening to this podcast makes me realize how much time I spent trying to convince myself that I liked bands that guys I had a thing for worshipped. I don’t really listen to music very much (note absence of it from this entire week) since podcasts became a thing -- I just always vastly prefer narrative if I have a choice. Either music is too distracting from the thing I’m trying to do, or I have enough bandwidth to listen to a podcast while I’m doing the thing, which I prefer. There’s just very rarely any place in my day where music makes sense. You will never find me getting stoned or drunk and just sitting and listening to music -- I can’t fathom how people do that. Whenever I’ve tried it, I’ve just gotten so angry that I took away the mental capacity to read and am wasting all that excellent reading time just sitting there. I guess I don’t really like turning my brain off. Some people spend all their time trying to turn their brain off, but that actually causes stress in my case; fun for me is more taking a ton of adderall to really get it jumping. I don’t mean to imply by that that I’m smart or I use my brain for anything worthwhile, I really, really don’t. I just like the feeling of being alert and I like thinking my dumb thoughts and following along with narratives of whatever kind. 

The Man Who Loved Children

Thursday, April 23rd:

Success! I hit snooze for 20 minutes only and then I got to work!

Listened to a new podcast by a comic I like while I got ready, and I won’t say which one, because it wasn’t very good, and I don’t want to slam the first episode (I’m sure it will get better).

Very brief Instagram/Twitter/Feedly breaks a couple times throughout the day.

Success again! After work, I only looked at Twitter for 20 minutes before heading out for my run. Usual playlist on run. On my walk back, I recorded an Instagram story.

Listened to old episodes of Sawbones and By the Book (both of which I’m trying to decide if I like or not) and You’re Wrong About while getting ready for run, showering, cooking dinner, cleaning up the kitchen, getting ready for bed. This episode of You’re Wrong About was about Marie Antoinette and was really fun, although I have a hard time with this podcast, because the voice of the woman who hosts it kind of traumatizes me. I do not like criticizing women’s voices and she can’t help her voice or how it affects me, but she has this sort of sarcastic, flat, patronizing tone that makes her sound like a cool girl of the intellectual cast of cool girls who thinks you are the stupidest little try-hard femme ever to be brought before her, and it gives me some unpleasant flashbacks to certain incidents in college. But I like the podcast overall (and her probably!) and so I just try to get over it.

Read “Livvie” by Eudora Welty, and then finished The Man Who Loved Children.

Friday, April 24th:

Hit snooze for a full hour, but then got up. Listened to another first episode of a new podcast by another comic I like that also was not very good while I got ready, etc. and also a bit later in the car as I made a grocery store run.

Couple very short Twitter/Feedly breaks throughout the day.

Usual music playlist on run. I’ve got a podcast playlist of weird fictional stuff that I’m mostly listening to old episodes of from the beginning and many are new to me and I’m trying to decide if I liked them. Today, during the usual periods of podcast listening, I went through episodes of Welcome to Night Vale and The Lost Cat Podcast, both of which I am enjoying, although I have trouble paying attention to Welcome to Night Vale and always realize after I finish an episode that I didn’t really hear any of it.  

Watched 1.25 episodes of Big Little Lies while I ate takeout and spotted my friend Mike playing the marriage counselor in one of them! Having a background in performance makes for very weird TV and movie experiences now, because I’ll pretty often see someone I know well in something. Often, it’s a really happy surprise like this one, but sometimes it’s a really unpleasant one, like when you’re sitting around with your family and you see a guy who dumped you pretty brutally playing the dopey, amiable dad in a commercial and get plunged into despair and self-hatred in the midst of a bunch of oblivious people in your aunt’s living room and start to feel like you are living in a surreal world no one else is actually a part of and also like your personality is fragmenting in what is possibly a psychotic way.  

Started The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane. I’m really happy to be done with The Man Who Loved Children and on to a new book, and this one looks to be an easy, possibly dumb page-turner, which is well-timed.

Saturday, April 25th:

Snoozed for 40 minutes. Listened to Tanis while coffee etc. Bit of Instagram and Feedly.

While I cleaned the house and deep cleaned my office, I listened to The Bright Sessions, Within the Wires, The Box Podcast, Tracks, and Rabbits.

While I got ready for run, walked back from run, made dinner, cleaned up kitchen, put the laundry away, and got ready for bed, listened to Father Dagon, The Amelia Project, Glasgow Ghost Stories, Middle: Below, The Last Movie, The Van, Video Palace, Blackwood, Dreamboy, Caledonian Gothic, and The London Necropolis Railway. I went through a ton of podcasts today (but also these fiction ones are quite short).

Started to read “At the Landing” by Welty, but I fell asleep super early. I usually save fiction for a couple hours in bed before I go to sleep, because fiction is my favorite thing in the world, but I am so tired by the time I lie down that I often can’t really enjoy it, and fight to stay awake while I try to read and then just fall asleep. So I might need to rethink this timing.

Overall, I think this has been a successful first week of doing this! On Saturday, I had a day off, and I spent basically zero time procrastinating with garbage media! I can really see how my consumption of dumb stuff went down through the week.

Crossroads

(here you go, lovely Sherlollians. One-shot after the fateful “I love you” scene)

When Euros is finally taken away and Greg has asked all his questions, Sherlock and John are once more in a car together in silence. Blissful silence. After all that happened, he needs time to think, to process, to examine. What he needs is peace but as soon as John speaks, he knows he won't get it.

"So are we really not going to talk about this?" asks John.

He continues to stare out the window into the darkness. "Talk about what?"

"Molly," John says.

He realizes that he should have guessed John wouldn't forget about what he said - what they both said. "Molly's safe, John," he says, sending only a brief glance in his direction. "She was never in any true danger. You know that. Is it necessary for me to remind you that you were there?"

"No. It's not."

He returns to staring out the window. "Good. Then please give me the courtesy of silence."

"No," John says. "We still need to talk about it."

"About what, John?" he says. His patience is wearing dangerously thin, and he knows it is an inevitable result of all the stress they experienced.

"The 'I love you.'"

He sighs impatiently. "I had to say it, because it was the only way Molly would say the release words. Again, you know this. You were there."

"And it was necessary to say it twice?"

He swallows but he doesn't answer. Of course it wasn't necessary for him to say it twice. He said it once because he had to, or Molly wouldn't say it to him.  But before he even finished the sentence, he realized he meant it, that it was true. So he said it again. It was almost like he couldn't help saying it. His heart realized it the first time, but his mind didn't register the truth until he repeated it. Is that something John can understand? Maybe.

His silence gives John all the response that he needs. "You said it twice because you actually meant it. You love her, and you'd have to be an idiot not to see it. You love Molly Hooper." John lets out a halting laugh. "And here I thought you loved Irene Adler. But it was never her, was it? It was Molly. It was always Molly. That's why you asked her to help you fake your death, wasn't it? You couldn't bear to have her grieve over you."

"I'll leave you to your deductions," he says flatly.

He can't see John's face in the darkness, but he can feel the incredulous look on his face. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing," he mutters.

"Nothing?" John practically yells the word. "Listen, you cock, Molly loves you and apparently you love her too, and you're going to do nothing? Molly is in London right now, and you could be with her and be happy, and you're willing to throw that away? Do you realize how lucky you are?"

He examines all responses that he might be able to give, and none of them will be acceptable to John. "So what should I do, John?" he says sarcastically.

"I'll tell you what you're going to do," says John firmly. "After this cab takes me home, it's going to take you to wherever Molly's flat is. You will explain all about Euros, and then you're going to tell her that you truly meant it that you love her. You'll say that you're sorry that she had to hear it from you that way so you'll say it again. And since Molly is one of the kindest women in the world, she'll forgive you. Whatever happens next is between the two of you, I don't even care what it is." John looks at him seriously. "You are at a crossroads, Sherlock. You can't reverse time or take that 'I love you' back. Even Euros in all her insanity knew that. You have a choice to make, and so help me, Sherlock, you will do right by Molly. "

"John-....."

John ignores him. Instead he leans forward and tells the driver not to leave them both to his flat, but to take Sherlock to Molly's flat instead. He looks at Sherlock expectantly and he mumbles out her address.

Neither he nor John say anything else the rest of the drive. When they reach John's flat, John gives him a pointed look before he says goodbye.

And now he is alone - alone with his thoughts and worries that he may have finally pushed Molly just one step too far.

The ride to Molly's flat passes by far too fast. He still doesn't even know what he's going to do or say when he reaches her door. He doesn't need to knock; she's given him a key a long time ago. Besides, she's probably asleep anyway. It is the middle of the night, after all. But before he can even find the key, Molly opens the door herself wearing kitten pajamas, fuzzy slippers, and her dressing gown. He's never seen a more welcome sight in his life. Her eyes widen when she sees him and almost immediately they fill up with tears. "Sherlock? What-...."

According to John, he's supposed to explain about Euros first. But he doesn't. Instead he reaches out and pulls her into his arms, burying his face in her shoulder. She wraps her own arms around him. "What is it, Sherlock?" she says with far more sympathy than he deserves. "What's the matter?"

"I have a sister," he mumbles.

She stills in his arms and pulls away to look at him. "You have a what?"

"I have a sister," he repeats. "She's mentally ill."

Molly slowly blinks at him, processing the new information. "Sherlock, why don't you come in and tell me about it?"

Her encouragement is all the invitation he needs. They both sit on Molly's couch and the story pours out of him: Euros, Redbeard, Victor Trevor, Sherrinford, the torture games Euros put them through, Mycroft, Moriarty. All of it. But he isn't able to address the "I love you." Not yet. He only glosses over it when he mentions the coffin.

Molly sits patiently through the whole story. After he finishes, she stays silent for a long time. "Molly?" he says. "Did you-...."

"When's the last time you ate, Sherlock?" she asks him. "I think you need a good cup of tea and biscuits. Maybe a sandwich?"

He blinks at her stupidly and frowns. He doesn't understand her reaction - or rather, the lack of one. "Molly, did you hear what I just told you?"

"Of course I did," she says calmly. "I heard all about what Euros did to you, John, and Mycroft. But these sorts of things are always better to talk about with tea. At least, that's what my dad always said." She smiles despite the horror she's just heard, and he thinks that while John is the one who has fought in a war, Molly Hooper has fought her own set of battles. She's a different kind of brave soldier, but a true solider nonetheless.  "So what kind do you want?"

"What kind of what?"

"What kind of sandwich and tea do you want?"

"I don't know," he says blankly. "Whatever you make is fine."

"Okay, I'll be right back then," she says before she walks to her kitchen. He sits on the couch alone, wondering how she can possibly be so kind to him right now. He certainly doesn't deserve it. As he waits, unbidden memories of Molly come to the forefront of his mind:

I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee.

Black, two sugars. I'll be upstairs.

I'd say break it off and spare yourself the pain.

You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always.

I am sorry. Forgive me.

But you can see me.

I don't count.

If there's anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all....you can have me.

You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you.

What do you need?

You.

Moriarty slipped up. He made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn't matter at all to me was the one person who mattered the most.

I hope you'll be very happy, Molly Hooper.

I can't say it. Not to you. Because it's true. It's always been true.

You say it first....say it like you mean it.

I love you.

I love you....

As he thinks through his past with Molly, he realizes everything that has happened, everything that he's done, everything she's done....they've all led the two of them to this point, the point of no return. John was right. They've both reached a crossroads, and neither of them can go backward. They can't rewind the clock or take back what they said. All they can do is continue to walk forward and he has the choice of how: together or separately.

And he knows which way he wants it. With new resolution, he rises from the couch and walks into the kitchen. Molly stands at the counter, humming softly to herself as she prepares two sandwiches. Without fully thinking about it, he comes behind her and slips his arms around her waist. Immediately her hands stop and her breath hitches.

"I love you," he whispers.

A strangled sound comes from Molly - a mixture of a choke and a sob. "Euros isn't here, Sherlock. You don't have to say it."

"Molly, please," he says softly. "Look at me."

Slowly she turns around to face him and lifts her eyes to met his. They are brimming over with tears once again and his heart clenches at the sight. Tread carefully, he can hear Mind Palace John say in his head. One bad move and you'll hurt her even more than you have already.  "I am sorry you had to hear it first like that," he continues with a grimace. "Terrible circumstances, I admit. Hardly ideal for a declaration, I concede." A single tear slips from her eyes and he gentles his voice. "But you also have to know that it's true and I did mean it. I do mean it. I love you."

Her gaze falters, but his eyes ask her - beg her - not to look away. Molly is the one who can see him, the one who always sees him. If she looks at him long enough, he has to hope that she'll see his sincerity. Molly searches his face for a long time and he lets her, hoping desperately that she'll find what she needs.

Finally her head drops and she nods slowly. "And I love you," she says, her voice hardly above a whisper.

Something tight in him that he didn't even know was there loosens, and he pulls her close to him, resting his cheek on her hair. His mind categorizes everything about this moment - the vanilla scent of her hair, the warmness of her arms around him, the faint hint of wetness from her tears on his shirt.

He doesn't know what the future holds for him or Molly, but he doesn't have any doubts in his mind that whatever comes they'll face it like they always have:

Together.