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#WELL HES JEWISH CODED SO HES GOTTA BE
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I agree with most of your points about the damn Wizard Game but I think you're way off on "all fantasy critters are ethnic stereotypes" as in your latest post. Perhaps you're referring specifically to how they're used in Harry Potter but I never read 'em, so I dunno.
The Fae come from Celtic legends and might represent the Brythonic peoples they displaced - but they're not stereotypes of the Celts themselves. Personally I also wonder if they might be faded memories of Neanderthals.
Centaurs are Scythians, if representing any persons at all. Greek myth used them to represent raw sexual lust most of the time - not sure where you're seeing a connection to black people.
Dragons are all over European folklore. They're associated with Wales by the Welsh themselves, who are pretty proud of it, but there's nothing about the traditional folklore on dragons that says "Welsh stereotype".
Goblins - it seems pretty clear to me that their use in HP is as a Jewish stereotype, and I'm not contending that. I'd agree there's a likely historical precedent to it, too. But the origin of goblins as we understand them is Celtic-Saxon-Norman with no obvious links to any sort of antisemitism. The basic form of "petty evil short thing" is also pretty global.
Oooh, this is all great information!
You're right that "European folklore" is a huge range of mythology that covers everything from flaming horses to giant nudists with their faces in their tummies, but you're also right that I wasn’t being clear; I was mostly talking about the Harry Potter books' depictions playing off English tropes. Particularly pre-industrial tropes, because the books essentially take place in a pre-industrial world.
JKR lives in Scotland now but she's from England, and when I was rereading her books, her depictions of mythical creatures seems very heavily informed by specifically English tropes.
So like generally, the Welsh and the Scottish  and the Irish all have very different takes on, say, the fae, than English culture does. (I'm fascinated by your idea that they represent Neanderthals or other extinct hominids, I'ma look into that!)
Dragons do indeed represent about a million different things depending on who you ask - in medieval England the story of St George was the most popular dragon ever and generally represented the Christian defeat of "savages and infidels" - but in the modern world, English culture seem to most often identify dragons with the Welsh, in part because of the dragon on the Welsh flag. And again, the relationship between England and Wales is.... complex, and I definitely don't know enough to speak on that.
But I don't think it's a coincidence that Hagrid is coded with a bunch of Welsh stereotypes, the actor plays up a Welsh accent, and he has a fondness bordering on obsession with dragons.
But I think you're right that I gotta walk back on the centaurs!
I'm an art nerd as well as a history nerd, and my familiarity with English depictions of centaurs was mostly in Pre-Raphaelite art. (Y'know, the mid-to-late 19th century super-dramatic style that came before the Impressionists.)
And many famous Pre-Raphaelite paintings had very, very strong moral undertones bordering propaganda, and they lived in time of racial tension - slavery had like just been outlawed (1865 in the US, but in England it was sort of a process from 1807 to nearly 1840.), and England began directly um "interacting" with more and more African nations.
You can kinda see where I'm going with this.
Anyway looking at it closer, I do think I'm misreading that now. It's not specifically racial - both in traditional English culture and from what I remember reading the books, the centaurs do just represent generally wild, unpredictable people who are  'primitive' and aggressive (and still sexually violent - you don't want me to link to interpretations of what it meant for Umbridge to get dragged away by centaurs at the end of the fifth book.)
And I agree that "short magic meanie" is a crowded field, and if you look at ten different cultures you'll see ten different meanies. But by now we've all seen the side-by-side comparison of the goblins from Harry Potter and the propaganda posters from Europe between the world wars. I think there are way too many visual and thematic similarities for it to be a coincidence.
Maybe, like every other stereotype in her early books, JKR was just pulling from her own subconscious without thinking about it too hard. But I think it's interesting to watch her gradually and continually double all the way down on so many of those stereotypes.
I also think it's interesting to study why certain myths are popular during certain times and places. The ancient world was pretty damn rough, so people frequently experienced loss or tragedy that they needed to psychologically make sense of. Maybe legends about mermaids dragging innocent sailors to their death helped some widow cope with never knowing what happened to her husband, maybe stories of fairies who stole babies and raised them as their own comforted some grieving parent somehow.
We tell the stories we need to tell.
I've also got this theory that vampire myths changed because our psychological needs changed. Before Bram Stoker, European vampires weren't suave gentlemen in a tux; they were your cousin, your neighbor. And they were gross cannibals. I think it was often used to explain wasting disorders, from cancer to pathogens to parasites. But during the Industrial Revolution medicine became more widely understood, and more widely available, so we didn't need that myth as much anymore.
I actually think that the modern version of vampires as these dashing sex symbols with crazy superpowers like flight and mesmerism and sparkles, who don't always have to kill their victims to feed... might subconsciously represent European aristocracy. They're power is glamorous instead of gory, normal laws and rules don't apply to them, and they live in this fantastical extravagant world from another century - that they can only sustain by feeding on others.
Just a thought.
Thanks for this very interesting ask, I really enjoy your insight!
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ace-hell · 5 months
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Ok so i started castlevania a few days ago and here are my thoughts so far:
-gruesome, more than i expected, but its fine
- gosh i love trevor
-i absolutely LOVE trevor, sypha and alucards friendship. Priceless, there's bickering but not in a childish way its nice to see it
-alucard is a bebi
-hector is super autistic coded and he a bebi too i liek him
-it was understandable from the moment carmilla came in that she'd betray Dracula and all but SHE HIT HECTOR! AND THE WAY SHE TREATS HIM? that bitch
-draculas last moments understanding he is trying to kill his son and accepting his death was touching. I think he wanted to hug alucard one last time before trevor cut off his head
-it still fucks my brain how brainwashed and stupid people can be over an ideology and belief and when you understand its an ADULT? idk it still shocks me that the church actually treated people like that. Horrible
-i know i won't get it but im still having hopes in everything i see for even a small jewish representation
-hector gonna die isn't he right?
-can't get over the fact that deaculas last name is tepes(tepesh) which sounds like tipesh in hebrew and it means stupid. Lmfao for me his name is "vlad dracula stupid"
-sypha is a super cool character, stronk magician smart woman
- kinda wanted to see more of godbrand but eh i don't feel like i missed something
-ALUCADS LIL DOLLS OF TREVOR AND SYPHA!!! HOW HE MIMICS THEM!!! absolute bebi
-plz save hector #justiceforhector (i know he helped the genocide of humanity but how can you stay mad at him huh?)
That's it for now, started S3 let's see how it gets even more fucked up
Update:
-GOSH i fucking LOVE trevor hehe
-alucard is still a bebi yes yes
- SUMI AND TAKA???? SO ??? BEAUTIFUL???? I-wow
-why everyone whispering
-have confused feelings about lenore, she is a very cool, pretty and interesting character but i feel like she'll kill my baby hector
-btw hector is a sub confirmed
-hectors nudity was NOT something i was prepared for, much less than the gore
-istg isaac and that captain were flirting at one point
-the head of the priory is so fucking creepy like yes dude we get it, we see them, put them away. Where did he get all those eyes from. And disgusting as hell.
-"what the fÜCK is a toilet paper" had me dead, my favorite line yet.
- me at the beginning of S3ep9: "wow half of the main characters fight for their lives while the other half are fucking". Me at the end of S3ep9: "oh. Oh, well nevermind. I knew it will come to this"
- i just KNEW lenore will betray hector ay ay ay. For alucard less, but not mid fucking oy vey
Update 0.2:
-im still so mad about the whole ordealwith sumi and taka
-hector?? I have so many things to say and questions to ask. You go girl, ily.
-alucard is STILL a bebi.
- can't imagine his pain by seeing how someone takes rhe soul of your parents and just tortures tgem for their own needs, thinking they are doing something good. Horrible. Poor kid
-trevor????? TREVOR ???? trevor. T R E V O R ???????? TREVOR!!!!!! U CAN'T DIE NOO I LUV U PLZ DON'T DIE
-wow lenore's ending was... Disappointing i gotta say. She just didn't wanna sit in her castle all the time so she just went to the sun to burn.
-trevor is alive!!!! YIPPI !!!
-ain't no fucking way they revived dracula and lisa omg wth
-hector is alive!!! I was wrong about him!!! Good
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cishetamine · 1 year
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gremlins (1984) letterboxd review (crossposted)
This is a terrible movie. Why?
Well, someone in it says “mangy curr” unironically, which admittedly is kind of camp. But check out the rest of the dialogue:
re: ppl being depressed on christmas: “While everyone else is opening up their presents, some people are opening up their wrists”
the part where the science teacher is explaining pupation to the kid like “it might look dormant, but inside it’s going through changes” and the kid is like “Like my mother,” as in MENOPAUSE
basically whoever they hired as the script doctor for this deserves a Razzy.
astonishing that this movie contains a white woman who wants to do unspeakable things to this kid’s dog !!! like holy shit i believe the rumors now .. no like actually did they realize what they were writing………
although it’s maybe bad that she doesn’t respect The Spirit Of Christmas(jewish-coded ?) & lives alone weigh a bunch of cats(lesbian-coded; possibly acephobic ?)
I want to know what age demographic this is targeted at. Which i guess i could find out by looking up the film rating—ah, PG-13, but like, ppl apparently criticized it at the time for being too graphic for the kids at whom its sense of humor appears aimed. so i guess it makes sense that i was also confused!
Also wait this is making me wonder. Did kids used to just go to the movie theaters by themselves when they were younger than 13?? Bc i thought the purpose of 'PG-13' was "u gotta be older than 13 to see it without an adult".
But what kids were even seeing movies without adults before they could drive in most of the US in the 1980s?? idk i wasn't alive then but i assume most ppl had to drive to the movies——ok maybe SOME ppl lived in walkable cities……i guess the stranger things kids could've biked, but then again they aren't real, so.
anyway, right, gremlins. The sequence where the Designated Hottie describes how her dad died is hilarious bc it's trying to be sad but the way he dies is——ok no u have to like pull up a clip on youtube bc it's definitely not worth seeing this whole movie over. Like i would bet $5 that it's on the tvtropes page for Narm.
Note btw that the great thing about making bets about whether something is on tvtropes is that i literally can't lose bc if it's not there already then i could jus make an account & add it there. Although in a way, me making a tvtropes account would be a much larger loss for my sense of self-respect
Also i'm still mad that i got tricked into watching a christmas movie bc normally i would not be into that!! except i didn't know it was a christmas movie!!! damnit!!
Found myself thinking, like, "You know, in a cronenberg film, the gremlins would escape & eventually spread to blanket the whole country & then the world! Like in scanners or the brood or videodrome—or, indeed, in plenty of other horror movies—especially those that anticipate a sequel! Like that one version of little shop of horrors before they changed the ending, or uh, presumably various zombie movies, i think. How does invasion of the body snatchers end again? Or uhh, the original The Blob?"
& i think that kinda describes my relationship to cronenberg as a director, i think?? like, i don't his movies are necessarily Super Great or My Favorites or whatnot—but they definitely have affected me enough that i keep thinking about him & about them & about his particular authorial sensibility, even if i disagree with decisions he's made!
which i think basically encapsulates my relationship w/ any Art that's influenced me significantly. Like there's not much stuff that i'm like "WOW i LOVE this this is PERFECT IN EVERY WAY"—it's more about "omg even where this book/painting/musical/opera may be flawed, can we please talk abt whether you think those are actual flaws or not, & u think they actually add to the story. Please please pretty please"
Also—the colors/lighting in this made me yearn sooooo hard for the days when EVERYTHING was shot on film. fuuuuuck. Like, this has a bunch of dark scenes that are lit almost more like a b&w chiaroscuro noir film rather than a color movie—so u get these spots of rly rich orange & teal & purple & blue & it WORKS?!?!?
which feels kind of insane to me honestly. like, Family Movies don't have beautiful lighting deign anymore (although cartoons have taken up some of the slack here—e.g., that Hilda show had a rly excellent color scheme in its backgrounds!)
anyway i'm just getting all weepily nostalgic for analog film, don't mind me!! getting half-strangled by a stray reel All those indoor shots where they're not afraid to let some light from outdoors filter in through the windows——i am dragged off the stage That soft focus on subjects, as opposed to that hypershallow depth of field that's gotten oh-so-popular these da——muffled sounds of struggle
[small gremlin pops back up onstage speaking in my voice] Also almost forgot to say: Good puppets! Very expressive, as others have mentioned! We need to bring back puppets tbh. Also ventriloquism(not that cringe racist guy from the bush admin tho.) I'm talking REAL ventri—
[roof caves in right on top of GREMLIN PUPPET, which miraculously manages to sidestep all the falling debris, but then one more tiny circular chunk falls out of the ceiling & GREMLIN immediately gets melted by the sudden sunlight like a cute vampire]
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tommyhardyx · 3 years
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Mr Solomons - Chapter Five
** Updated Version **
Pairing: Modern!Alfie Solomons Word Count: 4.4K Summary: It's finally time for your date with Alfie. Warnings: smut, swearing Note: And here we go it's time for the first date! I hope you enjoy and please let me know if you do!
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Ever since you agreed to the date with Alfie you’ve struggled to keep the man out of your mind.
The days leading up to Saturday begin to drag, work becomes boring and repetitive as you spend your days researching an upcoming article, and you find yourself constantly checking the clock hoping it’s getting closer and closer to the weekend so you can finally put all your focus into Alfie.
At coffee, with friends, you tune out unintentionally, your mind always going back to him. You had spoken to him a couple of more times since he asked you out, trying to coax the meaning behind why you need a leather jacket to go out to dinner with him but he never breaks, never gives you anything more to go on than ‘just trust me, you’ll need it’.
When Saturday finally rolls around, the mixture of excitement and anxiety for the night ahead wakes you earlier than intended and after a morning spent pacing around the house with nothing better to do than think about what might come from tonight Nancy finally has enough, dragging you out to your favourite coffee shop to take your mind off Alfie, refusing to address any mention of him and for the first time since you said yes you find yourself distracted, Alfie banished from your mind finally.
By the time you get home it’s late enough to start getting ready, Nancy blasts loud music to get you in a good mood while she helps you decide on your outfit for the night, helping with your makeup and hair, keeping you smiling and laughing until it’s only a few minutes to 7. She gives you one last tight hug before sending you out the door, a smile of luck and an encouragement not to come home tonight.
Waiting on the pavement outside your building, butterflies flying up a storm in your stomach, a smile pushes its way onto your face as the reason for Alfie’s confusing text asking you to wear a leather jacket finally makes sense.
He pulls up to the curb right in front of you, the motorbike he sits on loud enough to drown out your thoughts of worry as he turns off the engine and pulls off his helmet grinning at you, his eyebrows lifting as he looks over you.
“You look incredible,” he says, taking a moment to look over your body. “You ever ridden one of these?”
You shake your head as he offers a second helmet to you, his smile a comfort as you reach out a hesitant hand to take the helmet.
“All you gotta do, yeah, is hold on tight.”
Slipping the helmet over your hair, praying it won’t mess it up too much after all the time you and Nancy spent on it, you ease yourself onto the bike behind Alfie, your arms immediately slipping around his waist as you push your body against his back.
“Good to go?” he asks, and you nod. He must notice your anxiety, his hand moving to squeeze one of your own gently “Don’t worry love, I won’t let you get hurt yeah?”
Nodding slightly you rest your head against his back and say quietly. “I trust you.”
Your hands grip each other as Alfie revs the engine, your stomach doing a little flip as he pulls out onto the road and you swear you hear him chuckle when your arms tighten around his body.
It’s surprisingly easy to distract yourself from your fear as you focus on the feel of Alfie’s body beneath your arms, feeling his muscled torso this close to you has you thinking less about the possibility of crashing and more about what he might look like without his shirt off.
You’re so distracted by your thoughts that you don’t realise at first that you’ve slowed to a stop, and that Alfie has cut the engine until he speaks.
“So, how was that?”
It takes a minute for the question to sink in, and you’re sure he knows what has got you so distracted by the smirk on his face. He swings himself off the bike, waiting for you to take your helmet off to hold a hand out to you.
“Not as bad as I thought,” you admit, taking his offered hand as he helps you off the bike. “Still terrifying though.”
“Told ya I wouldn’t let you get hurt,” he says with a wink.
You smile up at him, enjoying the feeling of his large hand holding yours so much that you squeeze it tight when he tries to pull away, his smile mirroring yours at the motion.
“Right, well we’re in here,” he explains, pointing to a Jewish restaurant in front of you. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all! You’ll have to tell me what’s good though, I haven’t eaten much Jewish food before,” you admit.
He nods, holding the door open for you. “I can do that.”
The inside of the restaurant is small, cozy even, setting you at ease as a waiter guides you to your table and Alfie holds your chair out for you.
Both of you hang your leather jackets over the back of your chairs, Alfie’s outfit underneath finally showing itself properly. The crisp white shirt, combined with the black slacks and vest is a good look for him. He has the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, giving you a glimpse at some of the tattoos that litter his skin.
Alfie helps as you read through the menu, pointing out some of his favourite dishes always with little anecdotes of his mother making them for him when he was young, his love for her clear every time he speaks about her.
As your food is placed in front of you, you give him a look.
“I’m putting my trust in you, if I don’t like this it’s your fault,” you tease and he gives you one of his wide grins.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to make it up to ya if you don’t,” he promises with a wink.
“I’m holding you to that,” you tell him, pointing your fork at him before taking your first bite.
The food is delicious, the slight moan you let out on purpose causing a smirk to spread onto Alfie’s face and you’re sure you notice his tongue flick across his lips.
“Alright then?”
“It’s incredible,” you mutter, digging into the dish once again and enjoying the way Alfie smiles at you as you eat.
The conversation flows as the meal goes on, your nerves disappear the more he asks about your life and your family,
As dinner comes to an end and the two of you make your way back outside to his bike you realise you don’t want the night to end quite yet, though to come out and just say you’d like to go back to his place might sound a little desperate. He hands your helmet to you, the question on his lips as he intently looks you over, looking for any sign you might want to get out of this now.
“Do you want to come back to my place for a bit? I’m sure Cyril would like to see you again,” he says, the offer of his dog making the offer sound a little less like all he wants is to get you into bed.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” you almost whisper, slipping the helmet back on.
When you reach Alfie’s building, you have to make an effort not to allow your jaw to hang open. The massive brick building looks to be an old factory that has been converted into flats, and approaching the large brown metal door, you wait a step behind Alfie as he types in the code for the door.
“This is where you live?” you ask, and Alife smirks as he opens the door for you.
“It is,” he says, following you inside and guiding you through the foyer to wait by the elevator with a hand resting on your lower back.
Built into the exposed brick wall beside the elevator is a bench lined with red velvet and you sink into it while looking around the room, glad to get off your feet for a moment.
“This place is incredible,” you tell him, looking around in an attempt to take everything in.
Alfie watches you, one hand in his pocket while he twists one of his rings around his finger.
“Used to be a piano factory in the 1800s, then a photography space, and now apartments. I was one of the first to buy ‘ere. It’s close to the distillery and big enough for Cyril not to feel cramped,” he explains.
The elevator door opens, and he holds out a hand that you happily take as he helps you off the bench and into the elevator, your feet still burning from your shoes.
“Oh well Cyril is of course the most important,” you say, grinning at the man.
Inside the apartment you can’t help but look around in wonder, the place is huge with a gorgeous open kitchen and massive curved sofa facing a wall of bookshelves with a large TV in the middle. Just like the foyer the apartment is filled with exposed brick walls, and metal, all to great effect.
You’re so preoccupied with the apartment you almost miss the thumping sound of heavy paws on the wooden floors.
“Hello Cyril,” you say as the dog comes running over, his tail wagging madly behind him and Alfie holds onto the dog’s collar to keep him from tackling you to the ground. You reach to scratch behind the dog’s ears, smiling at the way he leans into your touch.
“Think he missed ya,” Alfie says, squatting down to the dog’s level.
Watching Alfie with Cyril never fails to make you smile, the man’s face lighting up at the mere sight of his dog, his chuckle making your stomach flip in the best possible way as he scratches under the dog’s chin.
“How’re you doin’ mate?”
You make your way to a wall of framed photos, there’s one of a woman you assume is Alfie’s mother holding a young boy which could be no one but Alfie himself in her arms, another more recent photo of Alfie and Ollie outside the distillery, and another of Alfie with his arm around a girl that must be his sister.
“Is this Hannah?” you ask as Alfie comes to stand by your side.
“Hm? Yeah, that’s her, made me take that photo with her,” he admits, running a hand over his beard.
“What’s she like?”
“She’s brilliant. Fucking smart, don’t know where she got that from, she’s an engineer. She’s also a pain in my arse, but I love her,” he explains, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“I’d love to meet her someday,” you say as you turn to the photo of him and Ollie. “When was this taken?”
“Day we opened the distillery. Fuck, I was terrified that day, had no fucking clue if we would fail or succeed. Ollie kept me from panicking. Yeah, he kept me calm. He’s good at that,” he explains.
He rubs a hand over the back of his head, a move that almost seems like nerves as he keeps his gaze on the photo in front of him.
“He encouraged me to ask you out, so if this goes well expect him to never fucking shut up about it,” he mutters, making you laugh.
The two of you make your way to the couch, the conversation flowing long enough that Cyril gets bored with the lack of attention and goes off to occupy himself some other way and you find yourself moving closer to Alfie, his arm resting along the top of the couch just beside your head.
As the two of you continue to talk, your eyes move from his face down his toned body and you begin to wonder just what he looks like underneath those clothes.
Alfie’s hand settles on your hip, his face mere inches from your own so close you can feel his warm breath on your skin. His eyes search your face, moving from your eyes down to your lips and your heart pounds with anticipation as you wait for him to make his move.
“Are you going to kiss me or stare at me all night?” you whisper.
He grins, his free hand reaching to cup your cheek as he finally presses his plump lips against your own. Your hands move slowly up his chest, fingers grasping the material of his shirt.
“Finally,” you whisper, mouth breaking into a grin as he rests his forehead against yours.
Alfie matches your grin, his hands settling firmly on your hips as he lifts you with ease, settling you onto his lap as his lips find yours again his tongue slipping into your mouth tangling with your own.
Your hands move up his muscular arms, the feeling of them beneath your fingers making you groan into his mouth.
“Let’s move to the bedroom yeah?” he asks, voice gruff as his lips press along your jaw.
“Yes,” is your breathless response, your fingers tangling in his hair as he stands, your legs wrapping around his waist.
His hands find your backside, squeezing the skin as he carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed before Cyril can find you and follow you in.
Alfie sets you down on your feet and you immediately reach for the buttons on his vest, desperate to see the body you’d felt beneath his clothes on his bike. You manage to get the vest off, pushing it down his arms and immediately do the same to his shirt, grinning at the sight of his muscular, tattoo-covered chest.
“See something you like?”
“I do indeed,” you tell him, reaching up to kiss his lips as your hands find the buckle on his belt, easily getting it open before unbuttoning his trousers and shoving them down his hips.
“Right, your turn then,” he says.
His hands are rough as he pulls off your clothes, the outfit you’d painstakingly picked out for tonight mixing with his own discarded on the floor.
Alfie groans at the sight of you in just your black lace underwear, and when you reach to hook your fingers in the waistband his hand is quick to cover your own.
“Leave ‘em on,” he mutters, his lips finding yours once again as he pulls your body against his.
His hands roam over your back, moving down to your lace covered backside, fingers digging into the skin as he lifts you up and carries you over to the bed, dropping you onto your knees.
Alfie watches, hungry expression on his face as you lie back against the mattress, your legs opening to give him a view that makes his cock twitch, but he ignores it as he climbs onto the bed, hands reaching for your legs as he pulls you closer to him.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, hooking your legs onto his shoulders.
His lips press a trail of kisses down the inside of your thighs, his beard brushing softly against your skin as his fingers brush along the lace of your panties, hooking a finger along the strip of material hiding your slit from view.
A gasp leaves your lips as his tongue first runs along your slit, flicking against your clit. He clearly knows what he’s doing, he’s well practised and you both know it so you let your head fall back and enjoy it, his tongue feeling incredible against the most sensitive part of you.
Your grip in his hair tightens as you feel your orgasm impending, his tongue working you faster as you move your hips rubbing yourself against his face.
The moan that escapes your lips as your orgasm crashes over you is louder than any you’ve let out during sex, and your fingers grasp his hair tighter as you come down from your high.
“Fuck,” you mumble, head tipped back as Alfie pulls away, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand watching you with a grin your grasp on his hair finally relaxing.
“Alright, there love?”
You groan, looking down at him and rolling your eyes at the smug grin on his face as he takes hold of the black lace between his teeth and slowly pulls them down your legs.
Discarding them, Alfie kisses his way up your body and once he’s close enough, you take his face in your hands, pulling him closer so you can kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips as his hands find your waist.
“You have condoms?” you whisper against his lips.
“In the drawer,” he mutters, pulling away to reach over to fish a condom out of the drawer. He stiffens as you reach down to grasp his already hard cock in your hand swearing as you begin to slowly stroke him.
Alfie settles onto his knees, fumbling with the condom while trying to get it open as you continue you stroke him grinning at how distracted he is with just one hand on his cock.
“Need some help?” you ask, earning a glare from him as he finally tears open the packet.
“Got it,” he mutters, swatting your hand away so he can roll the condom on himself, stroking his cock a few times as you lie back against the pillows, smiling up at him as he watches you, mesmerised by your body.
He lines himself up with you, rubbing himself along your slit as you reach for him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him down closer to you.
“Fuck,” Alfie groans at the same time you let out a gasp as he finally slides into you, his thickness filling you up. He pauses for a minute, his lips finding your own once again and your nails dig into his back as he starts to thrust.
He feels perfect inside of you, much better than previous lovers. The way he holds you as he thrusts into you, his lips kissing every inch of your skin he can reach, your nails scratch paths down his back as you wrap your legs around his waist.
You try to match his pace, moving your hips back into him as he trusts, but soon enough he takes over, and you do nothing but lie there and let him, the feeling of him making your fingers grip him as tight as you can, your toes curl, and your lips unable to say anything other than his name.
His thumb finds your clit, rubbing the sensitive ball of nerves as you find yourself getting closer to the edge again.
Your lips collide with his as you both find your climax, your tongues tangling together as you moan into his mouth. He continues to thrust until you’re both spent, finally pulling out as he pulls his lips away from yours.
Alfie rests his forehead on your chest as he catches his breath, his hands holding your waist as you run your fingers through his hair, feeling guilty for how hard you pulled on it earlier.
Soon enough he sits up, pressing his lips to yours.
“I’ll be back in just a minute,” he says, his lips brushing yours.
He gets up and you watch his bare arse as he makes his way into the en suite.
Left alone with your thoughts, you sigh as you sink back into the pillows, slipping beneath the blankets as the cool air makes a shiver run through your naked body. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go, you never do this on the first date, never go this far so quickly. But somehow, with Alfie, it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels right.
Alfie makes his way back into the room and climbs into bed beside you, those big arms reaching towards you to hold you tight against his body and tucking your head in under his chin.
“So you’re a cuddler are you?” you tease, settling into his chest.
“You can’t tell me this ain’t fucking nice,” he says, lips pressing against the top of your head.
It is nice, so nice that you don’t want to leave. But this is only the first date, you never intended to have sex on the first date and now you’re on the verge of already spending the night with him when all you intended for tonight was to have dinner.
You can already imagine the look on Nancy’s face if you come home tomorrow morning, still wearing the outfit you’d worn tonight. The idea of that smug look alone is enough for you to shift so you can kiss him softly.
“I should go,” you whisper against his lips.
“Stay the night,” he mutters, his arms tightening around you as you attempt to pull away. “I’ll cook ya breakfast in the morning.”
“Oh well that changes things,” you tease.
“Just stay.” Alfie’s eyes are drifting shut, his face softening as he holds you a little tighter and while you’re telling yourself to take this slow, that you really should leave and give yourself time to process the night’s events, everything about him is telling you to stay.
Gently you press a kiss to his chest, your hand gently rubbing his side as you settle in against him. His fingers brush softly along your arm and a tired smile stretches across your face.
“Alright, I’ll stay.”
The first thing you notice the following morning is Alfie’s arms still wrapped around you.
It takes you a minute to work out what’s going on, where you are and why arms are holding you against a solid chest, but soon enough the night before comes back to you. Alfie’s promise of breakfast and his tired voice asking you to stay the night brings a smile to your face as you glance up at him.
“Good morning.”
He’s awake but just, his eyes half open, a deep frown on his face as he reaches to rub his eyes with one hand.
“Mornin’,” he mutters, voice deep from sleep.
You press a kiss to his chest, earning a grumble from him as he throws his arm over his eyes to block out the light breaking through the gaps around the edges of the blinds.
“Not a morning person?” you ask, fingers curling in his beard.
“Didn’t I fucking warn you ‘bout that?”
“Nope. It’s cute though,” you tell him, laughing when he grunts in response.
You sit up, pulling out of his grip and glance around the room looking for wherever your clothes ended up last night.
“Third drawer, grab a shirt if you want,” he mutters, pointing to the chest of drawers on the other side of the room.
“Thanks,” you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek before sliding out of the bed.
As you approach the drawers, you hear the sound of scratching on the bedroom door followed by a loud whine. Cyril.
“Fucking hell,” Alfie mutters.
“Where do you keep the dog food? I’ll feed him,” you offer, slipping a grey t-shirt over your head and your underwear back up your legs.
“It’s in the kitchen. Can make yourself a cup of coffee while you’re out there if you want.”
“You want one?”
“I’ll get it when I’m awake,” he mutters, turning over to bury his face in the pillow. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled. “Don’t go making any fucking breakfast, told ya I’d do it.”
Opening the bedroom door, you manage to slip out without letting Cyril in to disturb Alfie and lead the large dog out into the kitchen. You fill up both his food and water dishes before making a cup of coffee, sinking into the couch with it and smiling when Cyril comes to join you, his head resting on your lap.
The morning is quiet, peaceful, as you sip your coffee and gently brush your fingers through the dog’s fur.
Soon enough Alfie emerges from the bedroom, dressed in a matching shirt, his hair a mess atop his head.
“You awake now?” you ask, watching as he makes his way over to you, his frown hidden partially behind a pair of glasses you’ve never seen him wearing before.
“Partially,” he says, stopping to pat Cyril’s head.
“I didn’t know you wear glasses,” you point out, smiling as he leans in to press a kiss to your head.
“I wear contacts when I go out. Too fucking tired this early in the morning to put ‘em in,” he explains, swiping your cup of coffee from your hand and taking a sip.
He twists his face up in disgust, handing the mug back to you as you laugh.
“Fucking sugar. How do you drink it so sweet?”
“It’s because I’m so sweet,” you joke, earning another kiss to the top of your head.
“That’s true. Now, breakfast,” he says, clapping his hands together startling Cyril who quickly lifts his head to see what the noise was. “Relax mate, only me. Pancakes sound good?”
“Sounds perfect. Do you want help?”
“Nope. You keep that pretty arse of yours right there, yeah?”
You grin up at him, angling your chin just right before speaking. “Okay, now come give me a kiss.”
He happily obliges you, leaning down to press his soft lips to yours before heading off towards the kitchen. You watch over the back of the couch as he cooks, looking content as he cooks and you decide to join him.
“Thought I told you to stay over there,” he says as you pull yourself up onto the benchtop.
“I wanted to be a little closer to you,” you tell him.
Alfie grins as he comes to stand between your legs, your hands finding his hips as you bring his face down to yours.
“If they burn them cause you’re fucking distracting me you’re eating the burnt ones,” he mumbles against your lips.
“Worth it.”
He chuckles against you, his chest rumbling with laughter as he presses a kiss to your forehead. With ease he pulls himself from your grip, so he can flip the pancake in the pan.
“Too bad you put your shirt back on, should have left it off,” you comment, grinning at the glare he shoots at you.
“You think so aye?”
You nod, grin widening as he sighs and strips off his shirt, playfully throwing it at you.
“Much better.”
Watching Alfie, his hair a mess, bleary eyes hidden behind his glasses, mouth stretched open in a yawn as he cooks you breakfast, you find yourself yearning for more of this in the future.
Tags: @tommymcartney @misselsbells06 @lauren-raines-x @innerpaperexpertcloud @lizyshores
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vivitalks · 3 years
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sorry i'm late responding to this but spiderman is Jewish depending on what source you're looking at and so far it's only "jewish-coded" and not explicitly Jewish :notgroovydude: but! Andrew Garfield has said his spiderman's Jewish in interviews, the og creators of spiderman are Jewish (and apparently the specific neighborhood in queens he's said to live in is known for having a large Jewish community) and Peter b parker is implied to be Jewish in into the spiderverse (this article covers most of this but i've seen other people talk about it before as well https://screenrant.com/spider-man-jewish-heritage-hinted-marvel-canon/ ) but yea that's mostly all of the info I got 💙
knew you'd come thru thanks honey <3 thats SEXY of andrew garfield yet another reason we gotta get to watching those. personally i am HELLA in favor of jewish peter parker. i can just add it to my permanent collection of peter parker hcs along with him being trans
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ckret2 · 3 years
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GVK spoilers below, about conspiracy theories
I’m gonna get around to posting all my GVK reactions but this one got long so I’m putting it in its own post.
The Monsterverse series, in both KOTM and GVK, has some pretty interesting things to say about conspiracy theories and ecofascism; but, unfortunately, it doesn’t REALIZE that it’s saying any of them, so it keeps dropping the ball and missing opportunities to explore them.
Starting with KOTM, “there’s too many humans so we’ve just gotta let some die and that’ll fix pollution 🤷” is like false ecofascist claim #1 but at no point in the movie was it challenged as unfactual, it was just presented as a sad truth that people have to do morally ambiguous things about. Except that it’s just literally mathematically not true!
Emma could be such a GREAT, believable character—especially in this world with, like, frigging QAnon nonsense getting such widespread traction—showing a compelling, realistic tragedy of how this normal, intelligent, well-educated white mom who otherwise is likely left-leaning (pro-environmentalism, pro-nature conservation, got a doctorate and generally more academia correlates with more liberal ideals) got sucked into a far right ecofascist doomsday militia that combines hokey pseudo-environmentalist propaganda with “in balance with nature” semi-religious mysticism, because she was exploited at a time when she was emotionally vulnerable (when her kid had just died) and was lacking healthy emotional support (when her husband turned to alcohol and then ran off).
... Except the movie never says that her “overpopulation” beliefs are WRONG. It says that they’re RIGHT, and she was just forced to choose between two losing scenarios—deliberately kill most of humanity to hopefully save a few, or watch humanity kill itself.
Nobody bothers to mention that the size of the population isn’t the problem, it’s the disproportionate pollution coming out of first world countries. Nobody bothers to mention that when Emma talks about “overpopulation” and shows a screenshot of an overcrowded neighborhood, it ain’t affluent downtown skyscraper condos in Europe or America that she’s highlighting, but large masses of poor people whose neighborhoods look “dirty” to the white woman’s eyes, despite the fact that they’re contributing the least to humanity’s carbon footprint.
Emma’s beliefs are empirically wrong, and if KOTM had ever demonstrated that, it would’ve been brilliant. Instead, it tries to say “she was right, she just went too far,” and in doing so loses an opportunity to make Emma a deeply believable, timely, realistic, well-meaning but wrong villain.
And now we’ve got GVK, which has swerved away from the ecofascism but doubled down on the conspiracy theories. Here, Emma’s daughter, who was raised for five years with what amounts to a survivalist doomsday cult’s beliefs, when faced with the grief of her mother’s death and the struggle of trying to reconnect to her estranged father, turns—again—to conspiracies to make sense of the world around her. Because that’s what Madison’s been raised with, and even though she got disillusioned with the particular “we know something special that the normal people can’t handle” beliefs that she was raised with, that kind of thinking is still what she knows. She’s still doing what her mother raised her to do! She’s still pulling the “hypercompetent highly-trained lone wolf ‘survivor’ saves the world” shtick that Jonah’s gang taught her to do—but it’s never brought up that it was screwed up to raise a child like that and it’s screwed up for her to still be interacting with the world like that.
At least THIS conspiracy theorist isn’t literally advocating for global genocide. Bernie’s focus largely seems to be on “this corporation is trying to screw people over and screw up the environment—” (because in Monsterverse, as in Toho monster movies as a whole, kaiju/titans and the environment are symbolically conflated, so if a corporation is messing with Godzilla then they’re messing with nature as well) “—so I’m gonna find out what they’re up to and be a whistleblower.” Which is great! Solid start! We’ve got a guy taking aim at big business and who says “when the weather Godzilla acts erratic, it’s not random chance, it’s because a big business is doing something it shouldn’t,” so it looks like we’ve got a leftist conspiracy theorist, that’s different, could be interesting to explore.
Except then he starts talking about governments serving a “global elite” and facilities built by “lizard people” and then we’ve swung right back around to the far right by casually dropping in a couple of antisemitic conspiracy theories.
Add that in with the whole “hollow earth” thing and damn, we’re namedropping a lot of antisemitic conspiracy theories, aren’t we? Granted, most conspiracy theories ARE antisemitic—but like, they could have dug around for some that aren’t. Have him talk some more about Roswell. Have him bring up things that we’ve actually got documentation happened and theorize that MKUltra research was used in Apex’s development of their pilot’s psychic mind link to Mechagodzilla. Have him bring up tailor-made-for-the-Monsterverse conspiracy theories that don’t exist here, “Monster Zero is actually the secret weapon of a nearby ‘Planet X’ that’s gonna invade,” whatever. Instead, nah, we went with the antisemitic ones.
Now, do I think the writers behind KOTM and GVK intended antisemitism? Do I think they’re closet alt-right trying to dogwhistle the fascists in the audience? No, I think they think they’re making fun of—or playing around with—what they see as harmless, unbelievable, way-out-there conspiracy theories. I think they know just enough about “hollow earth” and “global elites” and “lizard people” to make references to them, but not in a way that promotes the common antisemitic understanding of those theories as true. (Monsterverse’s hollow earth, a weird underground jungle where King Kong lives, sure doesn’t resemble the usual conspiracy theory.) To me, the way they were used suggests the writers didn’t deeply understand (or at least, didn’t deeply think about) what the theories really mean—nor what they imply about the beliefs of the characters who espouse them. Which is the crux of my issue with how the movies deal with conspiracy theories and ecofascists and so forth (beyond the fact that, hey, I just don’t like seeing likable characters casually referencing antisemitic beliefs): the writers didn’t think about the implications.
Because these things do imply a lot! For example, if, say, Josh, total newb to conspiracy theories, had asked about lizard people, I would have grimaced to hear it but I would have believed that he’s a teen boy that picked up the term at school and doesn’t know anything about what’s behind it. But on the other hand, I can’t believe a guy so deep in the conspiracy theory world that he bathes in bleach doesn’t know exactly what those conspiracies mean—or, even if he does somehow staunchly refuse to believe that “lizard people” is a code for “Jewish people,” that whatever circle of conspiracy theorists he runs with doesn’t use it as a code. Bernie didn’t pick up those beliefs in a void. I really doubt that’s what the writers wanted to imply about the goofy likable underdog with a podcast.
And sure, the “global elite” and “lizard people” references are presented like a “haha look how far out his beliefs are” joke—the same as the fluoride reference, which is basically Hollywood code for “bogus nonsense only complete lunatics believe” thanks to Dr. Strangelove—but at the same time, they’re never really disproven. Nothing he believes is challenged. Nor are any of Madison’s beliefs that she’s picked up from him. Everything they both believe is either a “wow that’s wild” throwaway joke, or else they’re presented as totally right, e.g. about Apex being up to dubious crap that’s irritating Godzilla.
Just like Emma, who was presented as in the wrong not because she was incorrect but because she WAS correct but took the wrong actions. And just like Rick in KOTM, who kept bring up the hollow earth theory like a running joke but then the joke was that he was right.
And that’s at the root of the issues with both movies’ portrayals of conspiracy theories. Aside from the jokes that are never explored (and therefore, never disproven), the movies say that, every time it matters, the conspiracy theorists on the fringe are correct, the heroes that need to be believed. Even though all (excluding Rick) are characters who have suffered deep loss, who have been hurt, who you can imagine as passionate but grieving people who turned to dangerously wrong extremism in their search for meaning... the movies don’t portray them as people who have been led astray by their pain, but enlightened by their pain. Which is what they themselves think they are, sure, but that doesn’t line up with reality.
The movies never forces them to grapple with how far they’ve gone astray from reality—and I think they should. I’d like to see them processing the revelation that their beliefs are wrong. Whether it’s as big as somebody trying to convince Emma that killing half the population doesn’t fix the pollution caused by corporations rich enough to weather a global hurricane, or as small as Bernie looking at Apex’s financial records and realizing the company’s money is going to the CEO’s vacation home rather than a reptile government and deciding to rethink those beliefs after they’ve checked out Hong Kong.
“Conspiracy theorist is right about everything” is already a common enough trope that Monsterverse isn’t breaking any new ground with it. And in a franchise like Godzilla, whose movies are rife with messages both allegorical and literal about environmentalism, corporate exploitation, the futility of military action, international politics, war crimes... letting the conspiracy theorists be wrong and showing that they’re wrong and what that wrongness can lead to would mesh far better with the themes of Godzilla.
Think about Jonah and Emma unleashing Ghidorah (who emerged from a destroyed ice cap and immediately caused devastating hurricanes—a perfect metaphor for climate change), and what that could say about how ecofascists who purportedly joined the movement because they support environmentalism are actually far more in bed with the destructive industries really at the root of environmental damage... if the movie acknowledged them as ecofascists.
Think about how Jonah collected Ghidorah’s head at the end of KOTM and by the time of GVK it was in Apex’s hands, and how this exchange demonstrates that “I want to unleash titans to destroy humanity to save the environment” Jonah the ecoterrorist and “I want to beat the titans to protect humanity” Simmons the billionaire CEO actually have far more similar ideals beneath the surface of their opposed goals—ideals that have less to do with the environment or with humanity and more to do with securing personal power and control... if the movie had explained how this exchange took place.
Think about how Madison’s mother died trying to mitigate just a little of the damage she did under the thrall of a doomsday cult’s skewed beliefs, how even though Madison broke free she found herself embroiled in similarly skewed beliefs just three years later, and how powerful it would have been if she recognized that she herself had walked right back into the kind of fringe beliefs her mother had led her into as a child, and if she had then resolved to learn how this kept happening to her and break this pattern... if the movie had ever let her realize that she was making the same mistakes, or even acknowledged them as mistakes.
There’s so much potential there, so many things you can see happening right beneath the surface... but the movies never touch on them. And so it looks like, in Monsterverse, all fringe beliefs are either right or harmless. And we never get the “disillusioned conspiracy theorist” story that could be so brilliant and that, right now, would be so relevant.
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jkl-fff · 3 years
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Dipper and Norman, #50
Thanks for the prompt!
Comedy Golem
It was a rest stop like any other in the Northeast. Just a gas station with some picnic tables, surrounded by deciduous woodlands. But the car pulled into it all the same. Two young men—partners in work, partners in life, and partners not infrequently in actions of questionable legality (although “crime” was such a strong word)—then set themselves up at one of the picnic tables, producing sodas and sandwiches from a cooler.
Laying out a map of the Northeast, Dipper gestured towards a sizeable splotch of green in upper Pennsylvania. It was labeled “Alleghany National Forest”, its shape vaguely reminded Norman of an elephant’s head (with an upraised trunk), and it was clearly the epicenter of a wide swath of red post-its marked with names and some rather recent dates. “As you can see, we’ve got its—his? her? their? whatever—probable location pretty well pinned down.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Norman replied around a bite of sandwich. His tone was deadpan, as it usually was (perhaps an occupational hazard of being a Medium … or of spending most of his time around the Pines family and their own special brand of insanity). “Practically pinpoint accuracy, in fact. Only … 1000 square miles of untamed woodlands for us to search.”
“Pff! Untamed,” Dipper scoffed with the kind of elitist scorn only heard from people who hail from west of the Rockies whenever the subject of Appalachia’s wilderness is broached. “Right. Which means we might get as low as three bars during our investigation. How perilous. Besides, it’s barely even 800 square miles—I checked.”
“Of course you did.”
“But, nah, I think I’ve actually narrowed down the location even further. To riiiiiight … here.”
Norman craned his neck to read the spot his friend tapped (after lifting aside the veritable blanket of red post-its covering it, as it was the center of the epicenter). “… Squirrely Stars Campground. Huh. That why they call this thing ‘the Squirrel Hill Golem’?”
“Nah, that’s because the first sighting was in a neighborhood of Pittsburgh called Squirrel Hill.”
“… You’re yanking my chain. You’ve gotta be.”
“Nope.” Dipper gestured to that segment of the map. “Read it and gape in bewilderment. But, considering Pittsburgh has a massive Jewish population and that’s one of its major sectors, sorta makes sense a Golem would first come outta there. My research suggests it was a Rabbi named Mahara Chelmman who made it back in 1997 (although she wasn’t a Rabbi at the time she made the Golem), but that’s not 100% verified; could’ve been two other people.”
Norman considered that, and it all sounded reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate, since he was dealing with a Pines here. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “… So did the Golem run off from Pittsburgh a la f-Frankenstein’s Monster upon being rejected by its … Um. How ‘bout we just use a Third-Person, Singular ‘they’ for now?”
“Works for me.”
“Okay. Yada-yada, Frankenstein’s Monster rejected by their creator?”
That got a shrug in response. “Hard to say. Most accounts suggest everyone was cool with them. They might’ve just, like, decided they wanted to live their own life? It was the 90s …”
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“So they ran off into the woods of Northern Pennsylvania for the next … twenty-ish years. Sure. Why not? Lots of mud out here—Golems do need m-mud, right?”
“It helps. Makes it easier for them to, like, heal or regenerate and such. Anyway, I’m thinking you will infiltrate the camp and blend in there—”
“Squirrely Stars,” Norman couldn’t help but smirk at the dumb name.
“—to find out what the people there know, maybe interview some Ghosts, too, if there are any. It’s where the highest concentration of sightings are clustered, so someone’s gotta be able to give us something workable.”
Norman nodded his assent. “Makes sense. I’m g-generally better at talking to people—”
“Right? Those were my thoughts exactly!” Dipper hastened to agree.
“—and not like you can communicate with Ghosts 97% of the time, anyway. What about you, though? If I’m doing the people-work at camp, what’re you gonna be doing?”
“Trek around the area out a ways from the camp. See what traces of the Golem I can forestry up. Footprints, magical energies, that sorta thing. Leg-work while you do the people-work. Also makes sense, right, since I’m better at that kinda stuff anyway?” Dipper asked. In a tone of voice that was … almost leading.
Which instantly made Norman a bit suspicious. But there wasn’t anything in that assessment either of them could disagree with, so he had to concede, “… I suppose you’re better at all the, um, stuff out in the woods—”
“Great!” Dipper was already halfway back to the car. “Let’s get moving! I’ll drop you off there.”
***TWO HOURS LATER*** PARKED OUTSIDE THE ENTRANCE TO A DIRT ROAD BENEATH A SIGN READING “SQUIRRELY STARS CAMPGROUND WARNING: NATURIST PROPERTY”
“Okay, but WHY do I have to be NAKED?!” Norman shrilled at the young man he had, until roughly five seconds ago, thought would always be his partner in life. Whereas now he was thinking that young man was about to be his former partner in life. Because he might kill him. Just straight-up murder him with a hefty tree branch or a sharp rock or maybe his bare hands.
Being a Medium meant their relationship wouldn’t have to end at death, true, but you couldn’t exactly call someone your “life partner” if they were dead. Especially if because you killed them by repeatedly smacking their face into the steering wheel or hurling them right into the sun or strangling them with their own seatbelt. That tended to sour most relationships.
“Look, I realize—”
“WHY does ANYONE have to be NAKED?!”
“Because it’s a nudist colony. Or … Well, maybe ‘nudist resort’ is more accurate?” Dipper mused aloud to himself. “Meh. Either way, ‘cause that’s the no-dress code here.”
“But WHY do I have to be NAKED?!”
“How else are you gonna infiltrate and then blend in at a nudist colony and/or resort? C’mon, man, you gotta think logically about this.”
“Yeah, but … WHY does ANYONE who is ME have to be NAKED?!”
“They prob’ly won’t talk to you if you’re not,” Dipper explained, his manner reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “Like, you’d make them uncomfortable .”
“Oh, well, I c-certainly wouldn’t want them to be uncomfortable!” Norman retorted witheringly.
“It won’t be for long. Just long enough to, y’know, fit in a little and scrounge some info.”
“Never worried about fitting in before,” Norman grumbled. “Don’t see why I should start now. Anyway, if this’s so easy, why aren’t y-you doing it?”
“You said it yourself: You’re better at talking to people, I’m better at ‘all the stuff in the woods’.” And Dipper couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across his face as he quoted him.
“… I hate you soo much right now.”
Dipper shrugged. “That’s fair. But, seriously though, it’s safer this way, too, ‘cause I’m Jewish.”
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Norman blinked. Then he blinked again. “… What?”
“I’m Jewish, so the Golem won’t try to hurt me if they’re acting, like, confrontational.”
Norman shook his head. “Okay, no, I’m calling bullshit on that.”
“Dude, you know I’m Jew—”
“No, yes, I know you’re Jewish,” Norman snapped impatiently. “I mean I’m calling b-bullshit on that being some sorta, like, pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic protection from Golems.”
“Golems exist to protect Jewish people,” Dipper countered, a little condescendingly. “They, like, physically can’t hurt us. Everybody knows that—it’s the first thing you learn about Golems.”
“Even assuming that’s true—and I don’t assume it, in fact, I contest it—how in the 79 Hells’re you supposed, like, to prove your Jewishness (especially to a vaguely humanoid shape made outta mud)? You gotta yarmulke on under that stupid cap of yours I don’t know about?”
“First of all: screw you, my cap is iconic.” Dipper even took a moment to admire his reflection in the rearview mirror, straightened his cap ever so slightly, and made fingerguns at himself. “Second of all: I’ll just say a birkhot or something. Ooo! Maybe even one of the secret ones from the Kabballah! Though a regular one’d prob’ly work fine.”
“Oh, please, I c-could do that. Doesn’t prove anyth—”
“No, you could not. You don’t even know what a birkhot is.”
“It’s like … a prayer and magic incantation rolled into one,” Norman replied (albeit hesitantly).
“Pff! No, that’s not what a bir—”
“In fact, I’m 100% certain I’ve heard you describe birkhots exactly that way,” Norman asserted, not hesitant any longer. “Same way you d-describe the other (and I quote) ‘sorta pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic spells and incantations and stuff’ you’ve got memorized in pre-Catholic Latin and Ancient Greek and Old Nordic for whenever we gotta deal with a … y’know, with a demon-adjacent, supernatural entity.”
Dipper considered that a moment. Then he admitted, “Okay, maybe yeah, that does sound like something I’d say. But the point—”
“HA! Vindication!” And Norman pounded the dashboard in triumph.
“But the point is, I can recite ‘בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הַעוֹלָם, דָיַן הַאֱמֶת׃’ at the drop of a hat—wait! the drop of a freakin’ kippah—with all the additional, apotropaic hand signs … Whereas you can’t even do a basic exorcism or protective spell in any language.”
Norman crossed his arms and sulkily looked out the passenger window. “Well, s-some of us just t-talk to the spirits and such. Like a n-normal, polite person … w-works just fine … ” Eventually, he huffed, “Why in the 79 Hells is a Golem even hanging around a n-nudist colony?!”
“A resort, I think.”
“I will murder you,” Norman stated, as if making a solemn vow. “With … an ice cream scoop.”
“Heh! Love you, too. Soo … does that mean you’ll do it?”
“You haven’t even answered my question.”
“Honestly? No clue. I just kinda assumed the Golem turned out to be, like, a pervert? But maybe they feel more at home among other people who aren���t wearing clothes? But, anyway, will you? … C’mon, Normy-warmy,” Dipper wheedled, his voice taking on a cutesy, coaxing, pleadingly singsong tone. “Pleeeease, Normy-warmy?”
“… That is ch-cheating, and you know it.”
“Pleeeease help me with this Monster Hunt? You just gotta talk to some people (and/or Ghosts). It won’t even take that long. Heck, if the people in there are anything like me, once they see you naked, their brains’ll stop working due to awestruck amazement—”
Norman grumbled, “S-soo much cheating.”
“—and they’ll be soo mesmerized by your sexy body (and beautiful smile)—”
“Why am I dating such an honorless cheater?” But, despite his protests, Norman was blushing.
“—that they’ll be compelled to do whatever you want for, like, the rest of their lives. It’ll be quick and easy. I promise.”
Feebly, Norman made one final attempt. “…But I sunburn so easy—”
Dipper reached over to open the glove compartment. Inside was a bottle of SPF100 sunscreen.
“… Fffffine. But you owe me big.”
“Deal!”
“I’m talking, like, a solid w-week of pampering.”
“Deal!”
“Romantic dates. Fancy cooking. Back rubs on demand—”
“Deal!” And Dipper punctuated that with a kiss to Norman’s cheek. “Now strip! Oh, but you can leave your shoes and socks on (the nudists aren’t idiots, even if they are sorta nuts). And, also, they usually use backpacks for holding onto all their stuff. What with not having pockets.”
Pulling off his shirt, Norman sighed. “Why do I keep letting you talk me into stuff like this?”
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Fandom racism anon here and yeah absolutely (I didn't realise I had anon on lol)
Because while LOTR has problems within its themes (ie the orcs can be seen as to be coded as people of colour, especially since they ride elephants) the explicit message of the book is evil bad
Because the only people who work for sauron are evil. There are no morally grey people, they aren't misguided or tricked they just are evil and want to take over the world
And yeah I totally agree that this is more of a literal take on like empirical war (is that the word) and that makes total sense considering Tolkiens history
Whereas I would say that the allegories in shaowhunters is way more based on racial conflict within a country itself especially slavery, I can't remember if this is show Canon but is it that they have the warlock tropheys? I remember that in the books magnus talks about shadowhunters hanging warlock marks on their walls? (sorry to bring the books up)
Idk it's very hollow to me, unlike with LOTR though it's a different allegory it's totally irritating to show many of these supremecists as morally misled. LOTR says bad guys are bad guys, shadowhunters says well yeah they did follow a guy which thinks that downworlders are subhuman and should be eradicated but they just made a mistake
I want to compare this to tfatws which while it isn't really fantasy I just feel like it shows how the priorities of the writer can impact the message of the show so powerfully (I know u aren't up to date so I'm gonna be pretty vague)
There's a scene in tfatws where the new white perfect captain America does something bad and doesn't pay for the consequences - done to comment on white privelege and how America condones white supremacy and how Sam is in comparison to that
Mayrse and Robert revealed to be part of the circle! And paid no consequences Shock horror my parents were the bad guys (even rho they were either implicitly or explicitly extremely racist the entire time) also I haven't finished the seires but do the lightwoods ever try to get their parents to face the consequences?)
Only one actual really critiques the situation and the reality behind it whereas the other one is just to centre the white characters once again and present them in a further sympathetic light
AND ANOTHER THING! I was mostly talking about show Canon here and I'm sorry to bring up the books but I literally can't believe I hadn't picked up in this before.
So like downworlders = people of colour, Simon is a vampire so is coded as a person of colour. However in the books in the last one he stops being a vampire and becomes a shadowhunters instead, coincidentally that's also when he starts dating Izzy HOW IS THIS ABLE TO HAPPEN!!????
I mean I know cassandra clare is lazy right? The original seires is by far the worst of all her writings but come ON!!!!! By the allegory has he become the white man!????? These books made no fuckin sense when I read them at 15 and they make no sense now I'm digressing anyways
I don't know man I wrote this ask because I was trying to find some fantasy book recommendations on booktube and SO MANY of them were about slavery or general ly extrême préjudice with à White protagonist to save this 'poor souls'.
Also I was watching guardians of the galexy the other day and realised nearly every movie set in space is just bigger stakes imperialism - planets instead of countries. Literally star wars, star trek, guardians of the galexy 2, avengers infinity war - all are facing genocidal imperialistic villains without actually paying much, if any attention to those effected
Just writing this ask made me exhausted I'm so tired of lazy writing and exploiting other people's struggle. I'm white and I'm trying to be more critical about the movies, shows and books I watch and read but let me know if I said something off here❤️❤️ you gotta get up to date with tfatws man, Sambucky nation is THRIVING!!!!
i'm not sure i agree that the whole "the evil people are evil" thing is a good thing, because i feel like more often than not making the bad characters just like... unidimensionally evil just means that the reader will be like "lol i could NEVER be that guy" and when it comes to racism that is a dangerous road to take because white people already believe that racism is something that Only The Most Evil People, Ergo, Not Me, Can Do, which makes discussions of stuff like subconscious racial bias and active antiracist work become more difficult because people don't believe they CAN be racist unless they're like, Lord Voldemort
which is not to say that racism should be treated as morally ambiguous, just that the workings of racism should be represented as something that is not done only by the Most Hardcore And Evil, but rather as a part of a system of oppression that affects the way everyone sees the world and interacts with it and lives in it
yes the warlock trophies are mentioned in the show, albeit very quickly (there is a circle member who tells magnus that his cat eyes will make "a nice addition to his collection" and then it's never mentioned again because this is sh and we love using racism for shock value but then not actually treating it as a serious plot point or something that affects oppressed ppl). and you are absolutely right, shadowhunters (and hp, and most fantasy books) has genocide as its core conflict and treats it, like you said, in a very hollow way, treating racism as both not a big deal and not something that is part of a system of oppression, but really the actions of a few Very Bad People. it's almost impressive how they manage to do both at the same time tbh
i think you hit the nail right on the head with this comment, actually. for most of these works, racism is SHOCK VALUE. it's just like "lol isn't it bad that this bad guy wants to kill a gazillion people just because they are muggles? now that is fucked up" but it's not actually an issue. in fact, when this guy is defeated, the whole problem is over! racism is not something that is embedded into that world, it's not a systemic issue, it's not even actually part of what drives the plot. the things that led to this person not only existing but rising to power and gathering enough followers to be a real threat to the whole world are never mentioned. it's like racists are born out of thin air, which is dangerously close to implying that racism is just a natural part of life, tbh
anyway my point is, it is never supposed to be questioned, it is never part of a deeper plot or story, its implications are barely addressed except for a few fleeting comments them and there; so, it's not a critique, it's shock value, even though it is frequently disguised as a critique (which is always empty and shallow anyway. like what is the REAL critique in works like hp or sh/tsc other than "genocide is bad"? wow such a groundbreaking take evelyn)
about simon and the book thing: i actually knew about this and the weird thing about this is that, like... simon is jewish, and he's implied to be ashkenazi (calls his grandma bubbe which is yiddish, which is a language spoken by the ashkenazi ppl), and it seems like cc is always toeing the line between him being accepted by shadowhunters and then not accepted by them, which sounds a lot like antisemitic tropes and history of swinging between (ashkenazi) jewish ppl being seen as the model minority myth and thus used as an example by white christians, and being hated and persecuted. i'm not super qualified to talk about this since i'm not jewish and i'm still learning about/unlearning antisemitism and its tropes, and i don't really have a fully formed thought on that, tbh; it just reminds me of the whole "model minority" swinging, where one second simon is part of the majority, the other he's not, but always he is supposed to give up a part of himself and his identity in other to be "assimilated" by shadowhunter culture. this article (link) covers a book on jewish people and assimilationism into USan culture, this article (link) covers british jews' relationship with being considered an ethnic group, and this article (link) talks a bit about the model minority myth from the perspective of an asian jewish woman
it just really calls to my attention that cc chose to make her ashkenazi jewish character start off as a downworlder and then become a shadowhunter. i don't think she made that decision as a conscious nod to this history, because it would require being informed on antisemitism lol but it's incredible how you can always see bigoted stereotypes shining through her narrative choices completely by accident. it just really shows how ingrained it is in our collective minds and culture
and anyway, making a character go from the oppressed group to just suddenly become the oppressor is just. wtf. not how oppression works, but most of all, really disrespectful, especially because she clearly treats it as an "upgrade"/"glowup" that earns him the Love Of His Life
also, out of curiosity, are you french? it seems like your autocorrect changed a few words and i'm pretty sure extrême and préjudice are the french versions of these words, and since u said ur white, that's where my money would be lol
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saltiestcoconut · 4 years
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Dark Templar's name symbolism
Aka why Ai is the perfect example of a knight templar
So in addition to being absolutely obsessed with Ai I am also obsessed with Ai’s deck because holy shit is that deck loaded with symbolism it’s beautiful really but the card I’m the most obsessed with is Dark Templar cause duh of course I am it looks very very similar to Decode Talked, Yusaku’s subace (Firewall Dragon is Yusa’s ace I don’t care what Konami says and this is the hill I will die on) because of course it does and its effect is similar yet opposite of Decode Talker except instead of protecting it revives but like its name (specifically its adaptation name change) is what really interested me
At first I thought it was lame that DT’s japanese name was Dark Knight while its english name is Dark Templar like Dark Knight was pretty much the perfect summary to ais character development (character reveal?) so why would they change it to Dark Templar? (aside from being pieces of shits but let’s assume they had a thematic reason) I got bored enough to find out Google essentially defines a templar as a religious knight which I thought was odd but aight an acceptable name change but then but then I came across the knight templar trope while reading through Yubel’s trope page on tv tropes (I was looking for those elusive Jewish wedding/Jaden vs Yubel fusion duel parallels if you can provide them hit me up pls) and oh boy did that trope change the game 
I’m just going to list the defining characteristics of knight templar straight from the page because holy fucking shit Ai portrays this trope to a t 
“Usually, the Knight Templar's primary step (or objective) to their perceived "utopia" is to get rid of that pesky "free will" thing that is the cause of crime and evil.”
If Ai would have won that duel against Yusaku he would have gotten rid of his free will by scattering it thus dying in the process while utopia wasn’t Ai’s endgame Ai’s existence would have led to a dystopia and preventing that is Ai’s endgame goal 
Many Knight Templars are utterly merciless in dealing with those whom they consider evil, and are prone to consider all crimes to be equal.
While Ai didn’t believe that everyone else was evil (save for Queen but he’s not wrong) he did erase those who tried to stand in his way and that’s pretty much what a knight templar does in face he doesn’t erase Aoi instead forcing her to suffer the same fate he has all because she teamed up with Akira to stop him from getting the second sol key (disproportionate punishment to crime)
It's important to note that despite being villainous within the context of the story, Knight Templars fully believe that they are on the side of righteousness and draw strength from it and that their opponents are not. Trying to reason with one isn't much good either, ...
While Ai isn’t a villain he is very much the antagonist of s3 (remember kids villains and antagonists aren’t the same!) and he absolutely could not be reasoned with because he believes that what he’s doing is for Yusaku’s best interest (a trait he shares with Yubel who is definitely a knight templar don’t get me started on the whole fusion thing) of course this doesn’t get revealed until much later on and it’s even revealed that he was doing this mainly to save Yusaku’s life so he definitely drew strength from his motivation
Indeed, it may take them a while to realize that a person with sense and good will really opposes them ...
He knew Yusaku would oppose him (while this doesn’t fit to a t his antagonism was an act so that he could get Yusaku to kill him or commit a homocide/suicide (sorry couldnt’ resist)) hence why I believe his extreme actions was an attempt to goad Yusa into chasing after him so Yusa would end up dueling him and thus forcing him to pick how he dies 
One of the few ways to actually change a Knight Templar's mind is to kick their ass down to the ground. ... They won't necessarily join you ...
While this part again doesn’t exactly fit Ai to a t these parts do at least to fact that Ai didn’t reveal the entire truth until Yusa beats him and quite literally knocks Ai down and out (gotta love high stakes children card games) even then Ai still doesn’t try to listen to Yusa’s desires (granted he couldn’t have even if he did wanted to) interesting to note that tvtropes says they’ll probably listen to your story when in this case Yusa listened to Ai’s story and this was sprinkled throughout their duel getting progressively worst as the duel continued 
The Knight Templar is often the ultimate incarnation of Light Is Not Good, and in series where Dark Is Not Evil ... If they are still nominally good, expect them to be a Hero Antagonist.
I disregarded everything that didn’t apply to Ai in between these two statements because Ai himself is the dark aspect of the series something he shares with Yusa and obviously he doesn’t believe Yusa and himself to be evil especially Yusa since you know he knows Yusa is actually a good person I included this because Ai was very much originally a hero turned antagonist and this is yugioh it’s the embodiment of light bad dark good (if memory serves me right 5ds is the only series to not follow this trope)
Sometimes, the Knight Templar is an artificially intelligent computer that took its instructions to "protect humanity" a bit too far
I couldn’t resist this was the plot to s3 in a nutshell 
... Knight Templars will insist that they're good guys, even the ones that are practically villains, they often aren't completely ignorant of the pain they cause; they simply consider it to be acceptable collateral damage, or regret the means they "must" use to achieve their ends
In this case Ai had noble intentions but insisted on portraying himself as a villain and he expressed regret at having dragged Roboppi with him and causing Roboppi’s demise (sobs)
Given how well Ai suits this trope (it’s almost every single one of their defining features) it’s no wonder that his symbolic monster counterpart is known as both Dark Knight and Dark Templar with Dark being the common element in its name change cause goddang 
I lowkey want to do an in depth analysis on Ai’s deck and how they fare against Yusaku’s code talkers cause there has to be a connection but I’m lazy and that requires so much research 
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notbang · 3 years
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R/N - #11
halloween prompt meme | read on ao3
It takes him a second to recognise her beneath the wig, but he should have guessed, really. Who else would rent a costume that takes up approximately one third of the office space with its multiple layers of petticoats?
He waits until Paula peels away from her side in the direction of the bathroom, his nostrils flaring at the probably health-code-violating screen of dry ice he has to push through in order to reach where she’s leaning against a column, eyes glued to her period-anachronous phone.
“Figures you’d be involved in this productivity suck somehow,” he says as he sidles up to her, hands stuffed in his pockets in a way he likes to think exudes nonchalance.
Rebecca regards him, unimpressed, over the top of the screen. He’s not sure if it’s the light reflecting from her phone, or her makeup, or both, but she’s even paler than usual; glowing alabaster amongst the dimly lit cubicles.  
Her answering laugh is entirely mocking. “I see your invite failed to get lost in the mail. Kudos on the costume, though—rich white dude is about the most repulsive thing I can think of.”
He gives a pointed once-over to her dress—a complex concoction of white frills and lace—and feels his lips curl back in a smirk. “Almost as terrifying as the prospect of eternal matrimony,” he agrees. “Once again, my deepest condolences, by the way.”
Any chance she has at supplying some kind of rejoinder in retort is squashed by the approach of a waiter—exactly how much money had Darryl spent on this thing, anyway?—with a round mop of black hair that looks like it escaped from a disco in the mid 70s, brandishing a tray boasting an array of dips and elaborately carved carrot sticks.
Rebecca frowns, apparently already somehow acquainted with the server. “Marty?”
“Rebecca B! This is where you work? How about that! Sweet digs. Sweet digs indeed.” The disco flunkey’s eyes light up when they roam across to Nathaniel. “And aren’t you two a fright for sore eyes? A perfectly spooky bride and groom! Yeah, that gaudy ring really finishes the look. That’s gotta be from that pawn shop over on East Cameron—they sell the weirdest old junk there. Something borrowed, something boo, am I right?”
The blossoming red blush breaks out across Rebecca’s chest like bright, blotchy watercolour beneath her skin.
“It’s not—we’re not…” she begins, face scrunching. “This is not—he’s not even wearing a costume!”
Nathaniel, amused enough at her discomfort that his disdain for the entire scenario is secondary, catches the eye of the source of her distress over her shoulder, shaking his head minutely to confirm the absurdity of the assumption.
He can’t help himself, though—his palm finds the small of her back of its own accord. Rebecca’s eyes, if possible, bug even wider as he tugs her towards him. “It never feels like a costume when it’s as real as what we have, though, does it, Muffin?”
Marty lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “Right on—I hear you, buddy. Hope you two enjoy the… patê,” he adds, indicating the tray of dips before disappearing with a playful shimmy.
Barking out a polite laugh at the eye roll-inducing pun, Nathaniel shepherds a still spluttering Rebecca into the break room—currently empty, ostensibly in favour of the makeshift dance floor forming over by the elevator—before promptly dropping his hand away from her back as if badly burned.
“Muffin?!” she seethes as as she whirls to face him, giving him an incredulous shove before batting haphazardly at his chest with her tiny, ineffectual fists.
“It only seemed apropos,” he drawls, lazily, “given how many of them you eat.”
“You…” she growls, then shakes herself, her train of thought seemingly lost to her irritation. “Why are you even here? I thought you couldn’t be within a ten mile radius of candy without your teeth literally falling out.”
“Ha ha,” he says with exaggerated sarcasm. “As distasteful as this entire embarrassing excuse of party is, it is a company event. It’d be unseemly of me not to at least make an appearance.”
“Couldn’t resist ruining everyone’s fun, more like it. God, it’s like everything is some kind of masturbatory performance with you, isn’t it?”
Her ample bosom, amplified by the cut of her gown and in considerable clear and present danger of spilling over and out entirely, rises and falls with the uneven rhythm of her steadily mounting frustration.
Not that he’s looking, or anything. Just that it’s making some kind of point of filling up his field of vision.
“Please,” he sneers, looking down the ridge of his nose and being careful to focus on her splotchy face rather than directly below it as he gestures out towards the bullpen. “Are you telling me you didn’t choose that costume as some sort of dry run for your impending nuptials to the flip flop? I bet you’ve been parading around in that dress all evening, flashing that ring at anyone that so much as glances in your direction. Congratulations, by the way—purple is his colour. Really makes that pawn shop gemstone pop when it’s curled around your fiancé’s spandex covered bicep.”
“There was a slight miscommunication on which Phantom he was dressing up as, okay,” Rebecca snaps. “And I’m not bothered by it, because it’s a charming anecdote that I’m going to tell all the Jewish-Filipino babies we’re going to have every year on Halloween.”
He forces out a sardonic laugh. “Well, have fun with that. Remind me again—why is this a Halloween party?”
“It’s Halloween in September,” she says, incomprehensibly defensive, the no duh implicit in her voice. She crosses her arms, and it does nothing to coax her heaving cleavage back into its confines. “It’s like Christmas in July, except for Halloween. Darryl’s a big fan of mixing things up, unlike you—we get it, dude! You like burgundy ties!”
Just as a riposte is forming on the tip of his tongue, Jim—an eyesore in bright red pleather if one ever existed—barrels through the break room with a drunk and disorderly, vampire-fang-bearing Tim hot on his heels, forcing Nathaniel to sidestep abruptly out of their path. The issue with that is, he fails to notice until he hears the resulting sharp intake of breath, is that it has him pressing Rebecca into the corner of the bench in front of the tinsel-adorned coffee maker.
The smart thing to do would be to step away. The dangerous thing—the stupidest decision possible, really—would be to stand his ground. To loom and crowd her further.
God, it’s like the idiocy of this place is seeping into him via osmosis.
Rebecca gulps, untamed breasts brushing distractingly against his sternum, and casts a frenzied glance out into the party proper, making sure no one is watching them through the slats.
A little light headed but ultimately spurred on by her fluster, Nathaniel straightens his spine and dips his head, voice tipping low to tease. “It still makes sense, you know. The costume choice. After all, your life is basically a soap opera. And nobody can blame you for wanting to hide that—” He nods towards the photocopier, where Josh is otherwise occupied with his attempts to get a Jenga game going with several desks’ worth of highlighters. “—away behind a mask.”
“Yeah, well,” she sputters, “it’s lucky that he got the costume wrong. Because his left is actually his best angle. Yeah. So you’d be missing out, otherwise. And you’re, like, so incredibly wrong. I don’t want to hide his face. I love that face. It’s my favourite face.” He doesn’t miss the way her gaze flits down to his lips, and his tongue darts out to wet it on autopilot. “I wanna rub my face all over his face, all the time.”
He leans in further, and he can’t be imagining it—the way her breath falters, and her eyelids start to flutter as his breath fans out across her face with deliberation. “Uh-huh.”
Interesting, he thinks, filing away the visible pluck of the cords in her neck as she swallows, as if in slow motion, to revisit later.
As if compelled by some inexplicable urge and drunk off finally, finally feeling like he has the upper hand, he tilts minutely, mouth moving towards grazing the shell of her ear. “I know it’ll be tempting, when you’re lying in bed tonight, trying to get the image of your mediocre choice of a life partner squeezed into a morph suit the colour of Barney dinosaur out of your head. But do me a favour, Rebecca, hmm? Try not to—” He pauses dramatically for effect. “—think of me.”
He can tell by the way her eyes widen with surprise for a split second only to scrunch in confusion that she’s caught the reference. Finally, he thinks as his pulse thrums through him with intense satisfaction: a use for having to spend hours inside a stuffy theatre box with an aunt that always smelled too strongly of peppermint oil.
A moment later and Rebecca’s spring-loaded, shoving him aside to make her escape. Just before she melts back into the throng of partygoers, though, she turns, left hand curling around the edge of the wooden partition, ring glinting red beneath the disco lights; the only time all night she’s managed not making it look embarrassingly staged.
“In your dreams,” she tells him, deadly serious, then hikes up her voluminous skirts and stomps off in flurry of frilly white lace and bouncing black-brown synthetic curls.
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racetrackhiggins · 4 years
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Hanukkah Binch
This is from the rp that me and @alkimara did a while back, I actually looked at the date, and this segment in particular is from like a year ago, I went back and formatted it from discord and made a couple spelling error edits I noticed but there’s probably more. They requested I post it after seeing a post about there not being a lot of Hanukkah celebration fics and stuff
Disclaimer: neither of us are Jewish, all the information I wrote in here was honestly taken from hours of googling, but I might have still gotten some stuff wrong, but I hope it’s at least okay :) 
word count: 15433 ship: finch/buttons
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Well, another year, another lonely Hanukkah. Finch had tried to remake his mom's challah, but it wasn't the same, and he'd let it sit too long in the oven. Might as well toss it. He wondered what his mom was doing... He wondered if she missed him as much as he sometimes missed her. But he couldn't go back, not with that monster of a stepdad living there. He'd probably end up dead if he ever stepped foot in there while having a boyfriend. 
He spun the little dreidel on the coffee table idly, watching as it landed on gimel. Whole pot. Had he been playing with someone. 
He sighed, looking at his phone again. Buttons' still hadn't responded to his text. He was probably having fun with his family, Finch couldn't blame him. Maybe he should just work on that animation, at least it would give him something to do…
Buttons saw Finch turned away, and was quiet, so so quiet... "Hey babe~," He giggled, wrapping his arms around Finch's waist. "How are you~?" He looked around, noticing immediately that Finch was alone here, and his heart broke slightly.
Finch nearly screamed, whipping around. "My god, you almost gave me a fucking heart attack!" He looked at Buttons with a disbelieving smile on his face. "What the fuck are you doing here, I thought you were with your family?"
"I heard you were here being alone and mopey," Buttons hummed, "Came to either give you company or invite you over. Or both." He looked over, "Can't play dreidel with a party of one. Well... You'd gotta teach me how to play.'
Finch was quiet for a moment. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't- fuck. He covered his face so Buttons wouldn't see him crying.
"Wh-? Hey... Babe?" Buttons gently curled Finch closer, nuzzling close. "I got you..."
"S-sorry, just..." he couldn't finish the sentence, worming himself around to hug Buttons' neck tightly, burying his face into the crook of it.
"I got ya... You wanna come over? Bring some stuff? You'd probably be teaching us a lot," He chuckled. He moved to rub Finch's back, "Literally I've been trying to get them to let you come over since the break... Finally got 'em."
Finch nodded softly. It had been a long time since he'd been in a... family environment, unless you counted this as a family. Which he kinda did. "I-I'd like that," he said quietly.
"Alrighty, pack your things, and uh... We'll try not to break anything," Buttons hummed. "I may or may not have family in the car downstairs."
Finch laughed in disbelief. "I can't believe you..." But he got up, starting to pack his things, just kinda emptying out his bookbag and stuffing some clothes, his laptop, and some chargers into it. When he came back out with it on his shoulder, he glanced over at the stupid little plastic menorah. He didn't even consider himself a practicing Jew anymore, but... the dumb little fake flames made him feel connected to his mom, in a way. He looked away, clearing his throat. "Guess I'm ready."
"Clearly, you're not," Buttons hummed, going to pick up the menorah. He also picked up the dreidel, though that was more in secret. He handed the menorah to Finch with a small smile, because supportive boyfriends are supportive. "Now, is that everything?"
Finch gave him a small smile as he held onto the menorah's base. "Yeah..." He pressed a kiss to Buttons' cheek.
Buttons smiled, kissing Finch's forehead in return as he brought the other downstairs and to the car.
"So, you're Benny's boyfriend~?" An older girl asked with a smirk, an eyebrow raised. 
"Oh, here we go," Buttons mumbled.
Finch grinned, glancing at Buttons. "Yep," he said a little shyly. "I'm Finch."
"Good to meet you, Fin- aAH!!" 
A younger boy shot up from the passenger seat, "42 WALLABY WAY SYDNEY- Oh that was fast." He laughed as he got hit by the girl who was driving. 
Buttons sighed, opening the rear door, "My older brother and sister, Ed and Jan. Ed has narcolepsy."
Finch snickered, "Hi, nice Finding Nemo reference." He kinda fiddled with one of the unlit bulbs on the menorah, not really sure what to say. As an only child, he'd had no idea what to do with siblings in general.
"Welllll hop in!" Jan laughed. 
Ed beamed, "Why thank you." 
Buttons stepped to the side, helping Finch into the car before climbing in himself, being careful with Finch's stuff and especially the menorah. Ed looked over at it, eyes wide in curiosity, but he didn't comment, instead deciding to vibrate in place.
Finch very subtly took Buttons' hand when he got in, partially out of nerves. "So, uh, how old are you guys?" he asked to the two up front.
"25," Jan answered, starting to drive. 
"23," Ed said, blinking slowly, "Trying to get settled in my own place, but I'm not allowed to be alone, in case I fall and hurt myself."
"Versus I'm just working from home to help our parents pay for all of your colleges," Jan said again, glaring in the rear-view at Buttons, who shrugged. He gently intertwined his fingers with Finch's, trying to relax Finch by rubbing his thumb over his hand.
"Ah," Finch nodded. Um... "What about the others?" He knows Buttons had mentioned bits about them before but he couldn't for the life of him remember.
"Benny's 21, Amy's gonna graduate now at 18, Max is 17, and Junior is 12," Jan answered, squinting at the road. "Road work ahead," She muttered. 
"I sure hope it does," Ed smirked. 
"If I wasn't driving, I'd knock you into another coma," Jan growled. 
"I can do that myself, thank you very much," Ed winked.
"At least he's cultured," Finch snickered, maybe not so subtly leaning against Buttons. Boy was like a damn cat sometimes.
Buttons moved an arm around Finch, switching the hand he was holding Finch's hand with. He hummed, shifting to be comfortable, even with their seat belts on. 
"Cuddlebugs," Jan giggled. "But also- Ben? Mom was asking if you two wanted to share a room." 
"Ohoho??" Ed wiggled his eyebrows, grinning.
"I mean, we already share a room, so even if we weren't dating I wouldn't have a problem with it," Finch pointed out. "Plus, I'd hate ta steal someone else's room."
"Ed, knock it off," Buttons groaned. 
"I second that," Jan said, flicking Ed's forehead.
"I mean, he's got a point," Finch murmured with a grin to Buttons.
Buttons blushed a bit, murmuring back, "Yeah but they don't gotta know that." 
Ed had a giant smirk on his face.
"Alright, boys~ we're home~!" Jan announced as she pulled up to the house. "Please leave your limbs inside the vehicle until we've come to a full and complete st- eDWARD!" Ed had opened the door and hopped out of the car, racing to the front door. Jan groaned as she put the car in park and turned it off, getting out, "I have the keys you idiot!!" 
Buttons hummed, getting out of the car and helping Finch out with his stuff.
"I'm guessing it's always this chaotic?" Finch smiled, trying to pretend he wasn't nervous about meeting Finch's whole family. He'd already known that Buttons' family had inherited a nice house but like... this was 
 nice.
"Oh, it's worse inside," Buttons snickered. "Be careful with the twelve-year-old. We're trying to keep him from swearing," He hummed, moving to help the other inside. 
At the door was an older woman, standing inside the house with a kind smile. She was hugging each of her children and kissing their cheeks, and Buttons looked a little nervous. "Hey, mom," He smiled, going to hug her. "This is my boyfriend-" 
The woman turned to Finch, pulling him into a hug, "Hello! Welcome! What's your name??"
"Finch, nice ta meet you, ma'am," Finch said politely, a little surprised by the hug. Did he hug back??
A younger looking boy ran down the stairs. "OOOOO, BENNY'S BROUGHT HIS BOYFRIEND~!" he shouted for the whole house to hear. 
"June, 
," a mousy looking girl said, pushing his face as she passed him. 
"Hey! Mom! Amy pushed me!" Junior shouted as if she weren't right there. 
"Did not!" Amy argued. 
Finch just kinda glanced at Buttons as if to ask if this was normal for siblings.
Buttons just sighed in distress. His mom soon released Finch from the hug, "Finch. Ah- it's okay, I suppose you can share your real name when the family isn't all about. I've heard about your little code names." She smiled at Buttons, who glared and slowly narrowed his eyes. "Right, Button~?" God damn it. 
Buttons sighed, "I'll go set up my room. Where's Max?" 
"Practicing, I think," His mom answered. 
Buttons nodded, looking at Finch, "Well, c'mon. Let's get you settled."
Finch nodded, carrying his stuff and letting Buttons lead him. 
Junior was 
 following them, curious about the new boy and the weird candle thing he was holding.
"Junior, whatcha doin'?" Buttons hummed casually, opening the door to his room. He moved to help Finch set his stuff down, going to flop on his giant bed, making it pretty clear that they'd be sharing. He looked over at his little brother, an eyebrow raised.
"What's that thing?" Junior asked, pointing at the menorah. 
"It's a menorah, but like really shi- uh, not very well made. An actual one would have real candles," Finch explained, barely catching himself. 
"What's it for?" Junior asked. 
"It's, uh, well, it's a Jewish tradition to light them, one a night, to represent the eight nights oil stayed burning when it was only supposed to last two," Finch explained, a little happily. 
"Oh, its that Hanukkah thing! I've heard about those, I've never seen a real one." 
Finch snorted, "I'm not even sure this really counts, but it's all I could afford so..."
"I think it counts," Buttons said softly, putting an arm over Finch's shoulders. 
"Looks like you made it all by yourself~. You're more talented than just drawing, y'know," Buttons smiled. He looked at Junior, "Finch makes animations and drawings! Don'tcha, Finch?"
"Yeah," Finch said sheepishly. 
"Like Disney?!" Junior asked excitedly. 
"Like... well, I guess, but I'm certainly not good enough to make a whole animated film, maybe a short at most," Finch shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. 
"Woah..."
Buttons was beaming, "Yeah, I've got a pretty talented boyfriend, huh~?"
... And now there was a loud electric guitar coming from the next room. Buttons sighed. Max.
"No fair you have a cool boyfriend," Junior pouted, ignoring the guitar. 
Finch flushed a little at that. What, no, he wasn't cool! He looked up at the guitar, looking at Buttons as he sighed.
Buttons smirked, "'Course I do~." He looked over at Finch, "That's Max. They're. Uh. I don't know the term. Rock band. Very... metal."
"Sounds like 
 cool," Finch chuckled softly as Junior ran off. "I am certainly not the cool boyfriend. I'm just some animating nerd who showed up with a dumb handmade menorah." He flopped next to the bags, sighing softly as he set the thing down. The lights flickered for a second, and he tensed up for a moment before they went to normal. "Probably won't even last much longer if I don't change out the wires. Why bother though?" he murmured under his breath.
Buttons pouted, going over and flopping on top of Finch. "Because it looks like it means a lot to you," He said softly. "I don't know why, but it does. If you need help, we can fix it," He murmured, kissing Finch lightly.
Finch looked up at Buttons softly. "You know why I stay at the dorm instead of going home every year?" he asked quietly, knowing full well he hadn't told anyone about his family situation, not even Buttons.
"No," Buttons said softly, moving off of the other and sitting next to him, carefully holding Finch's hand.
"Cause I ran away from home when I was sixteen," Finch said, letting out a small, humorless laugh. "My stepdad nearly killed me when he found out I was gay, my mom never knew how he treated me when she wasn't looking... So I left."
Button's eyes widened, and he moved closer to Finch, looking at the other with an expression that could only be described as holding a lot of emotions.
Finch had to look away from him, running a hand through his hair. "My dad died when I was thirteen, and Aaron came in and 'saved' my grieving mother not long after." He sighed, holding onto the menorah and looking at it. "Guess this is me just trying to feel like I did in the past. Obviously, it's not the same. Can't even actually light this stupid thing." He sounded a little bitter about it. "But I couldn't use real candles in this or I'd just burn something down."
Buttons was biting his lip, thinking. He gently looked over, taking the menorah and turning it off. He set it to the side, standing and tugging Finch out of the room, heading out to the garage with the other, still quiet and thinking. He let go of the other, grabbing a stool and climbing on it, reaching for a large blue bin. He grabbed it, carefully pulling it down and setting it on the ground with a grunt. After digging around for a few seconds, he pulled out a 
 bag of clay, putting it on the metal table. He looked at Finch, "Bake-able clay. Will not melt from a candle. Well- not if we put in the little metal cups at the bottom." He dug around, pulling out the metal cups that were usually seen in tiny candles. Except there was no wax or wick. "Jan used to play around with candles," Buttons hummed, setting the metal pieces on the table as well. He looked at Finch, heading around the box and going to take the other's hands again. "It might not be the same, you might not be able to get to the past, but... There's nothing wrong with remembering how happy you were."
Finch watched with confusion until Buttons started explaining. He bit his lip, and god damn it, he was starting to tear up again. "Hah, we could make real dreidels with that too," he said, trying to blink away the wetness to not much avail.
Buttons saw the tearing up, "Oh. I did it again." He chuckled, gently offering his arms for a hug, "Also, 
 make the dreidels. Or you'd have to teach me how to help."
"I can help," Ed said, peeking in. Buttons glanced away, and Ed continued, 
 "Please?" Buttons said softly. 
"I didn't say no," Ed laughed, moving into the room.
"Sorry I'm coming in and Jewing everything up," Finch joked, wiping his eyes. "I really appreciate it, though..."
"Jesus was Jewish," Ed snorted softly, going to pat Finch's head before moving to pull the clay out of the bag. He blinked, going for his set of sculpting tools and setting them out before starting to play with different pieces of clay. "Plus we mostly celebrate Christmas for each other and presents," He chuckled.
"Very true. To be fair, most Jews believe that a guy named Jesus existed and was probably a cool dude... that's about the extent of it though," Finch grinned, feeling much better.
Buttons had moved to grab another piece of clay, playing around with it to warm it up. 
"Lit," Ed said with a grin.
Finch grabbed a piece, kneading it. "I've only made a dreidel once before, wonder if I could do it again. I'm still convinced my dad had switched it out with a better one so I wouldn't feel bad when it didn't spin right," Finch said, smiling softly... damn, it had been a long time since he'd thought of that.
"What's so hard about making a spin?" Ed grinned, grabbing the entire thing of clay- which was as big as a laptop -and just dumping it out, starting to knead it like a large piece of dough. "Shit, this is hard," He mumbled.
"I mean, I was also like six at the time," Finch grinned. "And my dad was a sculptor for a living." He snickered at Ed, "I don't think we're making bread, that's a whole other tradition. I do remember he said it should be about the size of the hole of your fingers," he said, holding his pointer and thumb together in a circle.
"Yeah, but I'm tryin to smooth this out for the uh... the candle stick... What's it called?" Ed tilted his head, curious. 
Buttons took a smaller piece of his big piece, holding it out, "Like this?"
"Menorah," Finch said, nodding in approval to Buttons. He was rolling the clay into a ball, starting to roll a point with his palm. For a moment, he could swear he felt his dad beside him, reminding him how to do it. There was a small smile on his face, perhaps bittersweet.
Buttons leaned over from his spot, watching, trying to follow as he did it. 
"Right," Ed hummed, still rolling out the clay. And then he hummed again. "Well. Maybe you'll need to do this alone." 
"Ed???" Buttons looked over. 
Ed gave a thumbs up, moving over to the hammock in the room, and barely managing to get on it before collapsing, snoring lightly. 
Buttons sighed.
Finch laughed softly. "I don't mind." He scooted closer to Buttons, letting him see exactly how he was doing it. 
 he heard in his head. Finch repeated it to Buttons, not realizing he'd copied his dad's Spanish accent, too focused on the actions of his fingers.
Buttons blushed a bit at the accent, but didn't dare break the spell that Finch was under, following along as best as he could.
"Could ya hand me the little... that thing with the string on it?" Finch asked in his normal accent, pointing in the direction of the tools.
"Yup," Buttons hummed, grabbing it and moving it over to Finch.
Finch took the string and used it to cut clean sides onto it, and suddenly it looked like a somewhat long dreidel. He set it on the ground, slicing it down to size before taking the extra and beginning to form it into a little rolled snaky piece for the top of the spinner to be cut out of.
"Ohh what the..." Buttons took the string piece, trying to copy what Finch had done. A little crooked, but it still looked like a dreidel. Mostly.
"Looks good!" Finch grinned proudly at him, kissing his cheek. He molded the snaky part to the top of his dreidel, smoothing it out so it looked nearly seamless, before pinching the extra off and molding it to be a neat top. "Do you have paint? It would be easier than trying to cut the symbols in."
Buttons was sticking his tongue out as he followed, "Yeah, more paint in the bin. There's also some teeeeeny tiny brushes." He was squinting, trying to focus, so happy that Finch said it looked good.
"Sweet, then this is done to bake," Finch smiled. He looked over at the menorah, thinking. If they were gonna make it candle-safe, then there would be no need for the wires.... He could just use the base and sculpt over it with clay, then- wait, no the plastic would probably melt in the oven. "I think we just start completely over," Finch murmured, setting the menorah down, using it as a visual example as he started rolling out a base from Ed's big ball.
"Alright," Buttons said after a moment, seeing no other way. "We can use the little metal bits as molds for where the candle will go?" He offered, using some wire to start planning out the structure. He ran into the house and back out again, having a roll of aluminum foil. He started rolling off large sheets, trying to build up the menorah’s main bulk.
Finch smiled, just looking at Buttons for a long moment as he worked. It was fitting, maybe. Finch had made his menorah years ago out of homesickness and sorrow, never quite content with it. Now Buttons was here, helping him build a new good memory to associate with Hanukkah. Not just the sad longing of the past.
Buttons caught the look, giggling softly. He moved over, gently kissing Finch, 'cause the other was just too damn cute. "Alright," He hummed, pushing the menorah forwards, "I did my very best~!"
"I love you so much," Finch said softly as he took the menorah base. He looked back up at Buttons with a small smile. "Thank you for doing this with me, and for not letting me be alone this year."
Buttons smiled softly, "'Course... I love you too, Finch. A lot. I'm glad you're here with me. Even if my family is uh... Crazy." He chuckled a bit, happy.
Finch laughed softly. "I certainly see why you seemed so used to the Newsies when we moved in." He had a long rope of clay at this point, and he put the end on the bottom of the base, starting to wind it around the foil, making sure there were no breaks in it.
"Yeah," Buttons giggled, watching the other.
Finch managed to get it halfway up before he needed to roll more. He quickly rolled it out, his tongue sticking out a little bit in focus as he did. He carefully molded it to the end of the previous one so you couldn't tell the end or start of either. He winded it up the rest of the way, nodding a little bit in satisfaction.
Buttons just watched, his elbows on the table. He was fascinated with how the other worked, and snorted softly, "Y'know I'm like. The only one in my family that doesn't have artistic talent? Ed can sculpt like a badass, Amy can paint, Max loves their guitar like it's their kid. Jan with watercolors is something extraterrestrial. We don't really know if Junior has anything, though." Buttons sunk, moving his face against the table, "Then there's me, who I guess can sew. And my artistic and talented as fuck boyfriend~."
"But you're cute as a button~" Finch teased, glancing up at him. "And at least you have a life skill," he said, nodding at him.
Buttons rolled his eyes, "My mom says that too much. Jack said my name in front of her and it was the death of me. I'm just a ghost." He giggled, and blinked. He gasped, offended, "Art is a life skill!! Look at this sculpting talent from a beautifully sculpted man! You could sell things online!!" He grinned at Finch, his voice loud and dramatic.
"Shh, you'll wake your brother up," Finch said, definitely not turning red at all.
Buttons giggled, "I could- and have -screamed into his ear. Doesn't do a thing."
Finch laughed softly, starting to wrap the clay in the same fashion around one of the prongs of the candleholders.
Buttons moved over, wrapping his arms around Finch's waist, nuzzling into his back, but not hindering the other from working. "I~ Love~ You~," Buttons hummed with a smile.
"I love you too~" Finch hummed, glancing at him for a moment, leaning his head against him.
Buttons moved to kiss the other happily. 
"Gay." 
Buttons sighed, pressing his head against Finch's shoulder, "Gotta love my family." 
Jan giggled, "Mom wanted me to let you know Dinner will be ready in around an hour." 
"Alright, thanks, Jan," Buttons said, still hiding his blush and cuddling with Finch.
"Sure, Jan," Finch said in an imitation of the meme with a small giggle as he worked. "Hopefully I'll at least be done with this part... yeah, no there's no way I will."
Jan rolled her eyes, heading off again. 
Buttons sighed, looking up, "I can help. Maybe. Yes?" He looked hopeful.
"You can go ahead a roll out more? That way when I run out, I have more ready," Finch suggested.
"Alrighty~!" Buttons beamed, moving away to go roll out more clay happily.
Finch smiled as he kept working, planning ahead in his mind, realizing that he was very much modeling it after the one his mother had. The twists were more like his dad, though. By the end of the hour, he'd finished one side of the menorah.
At some point during the hour, Ed had bolted awake. And then slapped himself to keep himself awake. "Fuckin'..." He sighed, waving to the two as he moved out of the room.
At the end of the hour, Buttons was beaming, "It looks great!" He looked excited, practically vibrating in place. "Alright, c'mon~," He giggled, gently moving the Menorah to the middle of the table where it would be safe. He smiled at Finch, leading the other to the kitchen happily.
Finch grinned back to him, following him. 
Buttons' dad was in the kitchen, totally not flirting teasingly with his wife. "Hey, Ben, how goes it?" he grinned, pulling away from her to ruffle Buttons' hair. "You must be Finch," he said in a friendly manner, shaking Finch's hand. "You can just call me Peter." 
"Nice to meet you, sir," Finch said a little sheepishly.
Buttons sighed, smiling a bit from his father's head-rub. "Hey, Dad," He chuckled, moving to help set the table. He smiled a but at Finch and his dad, confident that they'd get along okay.
Junior came bounding down the stairs, making web-slinging noises as he pretended to be swinging in like Spiderman. "I hear there is... dinner~" he said dramatically. He dropped it after a second, pouting, "Amy says she's not coming cause she has to write a paper." 
Peter sighed, glancing at his wife. "You want me to get her or just bring her a plate?" 
Finch sorta scooted a little closer to Buttons.
Buttons blinked, gently tugging Finch closer, "It's okay, no one's gonna eat you." He giggled a bit, kissing Finch's cheek. 
Max came downstairs with a sigh. They appeared completely androgynous, black hair and black and pale makeup over their face. They definitely stood out from the crowd with the black metal t-shirt and spiked bracelets, but they just hummed as they moved to help set everything up, nodding their head casually at Finch.
"You sure?" Finch asked quietly at Max's appearance, and he'd certainly be lying if he said he wasn't a little intimidated by them.
"Well, I might, but not now," Buttons snickered quietly. "Also, don't worry about Max. They're doing their thing, and we love them anyway," Buttons giggled, a little louder. 
Max gave a rock on symbol with their hand, smiling a bit.
.
Button's mother, Jess, sighed. "Go bring her down, she has the entire week and can take a 20 minute break for family." She pecked husband's lips, moving to bring things to the table.
Peter nodded, heading upstairs as Junior hung onto his mom's arm. "Gross, you gave Dad cooties~" 
Finch laughed softly, "Fair enough." He waited for Buttons to tell him where to go/what to do.
Jess hummed, "He already had cooties long before you were born." And she looked at Jan, the eldest. 
Ed hummed, moving to sit, and Buttons gently motioned for Finch to sit next to himself. Ed sat across from Finch, Max going to sit on the other side of Finch instead. Jan sat next to Ed, leaving the last spot for Amy, and the heads of the table for their parents.
"Ewww," Junior cried, running off to the table. He leaned close to Buttons, "Mom made a dirty joke," he said scandalously. 
Finch snorted, covering his mouth to try to disguise his laugh as a cough.
Jess rolled her eyes, smiling a bit as she moved to sit. She sighed, waiting for Peter and Amy.
Amy came down and sat down, sighing a little bit. Peter came and sat at the other end of the table. "Looks great, hun," he said, looking at the spread.
Jess smiled at that, "Had to work my best magic for our guest." 
The people at the table moved to hold hands, Max gently taking Finch's other to connect the circle. Hm. Black fingerless gloves. After quickly saying grace, Buttons, Jan, and Jess moved to serve the food. When that was done, they sat again, and started to eat.
Finch felt a sort of pang in his heart that he elected to ignore as he started to eat. "It's really good, ma'am," he said politely.
"Thank you," She hummed with a smile. "So, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?" Ah. The family interrogation. Buttons sighed, as if he was expecting this.
"Oh, um, well, I'm in my third year like Benny, and I'm going for an Animation major," Finch said.
"Oh, good luck," Jess said politely. "Sounds like a fun field, certainly a lot of work!" 
"Takes me forever for one sketch," Jan said with a bit of a laugh.
"Yeah, it can take me weeks to do a ten minute short, " Finch grinned. "I had to simplify my style a little to make even that."
"Wow," Jan laughed. 
"Big yikes," Ed nodded in agreement.
"Yeah... Ben's had to drag me away from my tablet at 3 am cause I was still working on a project," Finch chuckled, glancing at Buttons.
"At 3am you weren't even focusing," Buttons grinned. 
Jan chuckled, "Deadlines suck."
Finch nodded in agreement. 
"Could you draw Spiderman?" Junior asked, his eyes sparkling. 
"Yeah, sure!" Finch said. 
"I wanna be Spiderman, he's so cool, and he lives in New York, so I could be Spiderman," Junior said idly as he ate. 
Hm. Alright. Finch could do that, probably by the end of the week.
Ed giggled, "Just gotta find a radioactive spider." 
Jan flicked his arm.
Junior nodded, "Mhm." 
"Don't go around trying to get bit by spiders," Peter warned, glancing at Ed. 
Junior pouted a little, but simply kept eating. 
"I'm done, can I go work on my paper now?" Amy asked. 
"Sure, tell your little internet girlfriend we say hi," Peter teased. 
Amy blushed a little bit, but didn't respond to that as she took her plate to the kitchen.
Ed shrugged. 
"Good luck, Amy~!" Jan said cheerfully. 
Max kept eating, remembering something. Ah, they'd just bring it up when they needed to.
Once everyone was done eating, Junior ran to go play video games until his mom told him to get off of it, and Peter carried plates to the sink to wash them. 
Finch looked down at the table, murmuring a short and quick prayer, hoping no one noticed. He stood up. "Do we need to help..?" he asked Buttons.
Max had done the same without even asking, just staying by Finch. Seems someone was educated. Buttons was a bit confused but respectful, leaving his hands in his lap and waiting until Finch was done. "Nah, my dish day was yesterday," Buttons said with a smile, "We can probably just go up to the room." 
Max got up, moving to the kitchen, because today was their dish day.
"Would it be okay if I went and tried to finish the menorah first?" Finch asked softly.
"Shit, almost forgot," Buttons huffed. "Yeah, let's go." He smiled at the other, moving back to the garage.
And then Jan grabbed him. He squeaked, Jan holding him a chokehold as she said kindly, "You go on ahead, I'd like to talk to Ben for a second."
"O-okay," Finch said. "Please don't break my boyfriend." He waved to Buttons as he went back to the garage and got back to work.
"I'll do my best," Jan beamed. 
Ed moved back into the garage a few minutes later, getting some clay from the larger wad. He looked over at Finch's sculpture, "Looks nice." He started messing with the clay, working on his own thing.
-
 Buttons squeaked. 
"Why else would you bring him home?" Jan smirked. 
"Because?? He was at college all alone???" He answered, face bright red. "Okay- I- Jan- I know I love him- but like- we 
"Never too early or late to hop on the wedding train," Jan grinned. 
"Says you! Where's your marriage?" Buttons glared. 
Jan put a hand over her chest dramatically, "Across the seven seas in aromantic land, remember?" Buttons groaned, looking at her, and she giggled. "I just wanted to see what was up. Everyone seems to like him. Just putting a little~ thought~ into your head."
"Thanks," Finch said shyly, smiling softly at it. Maybe another hour at this pace and he could finish the wrappings. Then from there, the rest wouldn't be too hard.
Ed nodded. And then he felt something familiar. "Hm. I really hope I don't collapse," He muttered, pacing more to keep himself awake.
Finch looked up, setting the thing down. "Do-do I need to get anyone? Or catch you?"
"Uhhhh...." Ed shook his head, "No, lemme jus- siNKING SHIP-!!" 
As soon as he'd started yelling it, Max was under him, catching him as he fell over. Max sighed, helping the other over to the hammock, "Got him..." 
Jan appeared at the doorway, calm when she saw Max had their brother, and continuing to hold Buttons in a chokehold out of view. She moved away, casually continuing their conversation. 
Max sighed, "You worked another late night." Ed huffed something, trying to keep awake, but nope- he passed out. Max looked over, "Sorry about that."
"Ah, it's fine," Finch said a bit slowly. "That happen often?"
"Yeah. He's got narcolepsy with cataplexy- it's better on days where he actually gets sleep," Max said, moving over. "That's pretty," They hummed, looking at the menorah.
"Oh, thanks. My last one isn't so much, so Bu-Ben was helping me make a new one," Finch said, gesturing to the flickering fake candles on the plastic one. "I'm gonna make a little Star of David piece to put on top for the shamash to sit on once I'm done with this part."
"Nice," Max hummed. They looked around, pulling out a ninth metal cup, "Probably gonna need that one." They rolled their shoulders, tilting their head, "Also be careful that it's strong enough that you can drop it from an inch off the table and it won't break- that's usually a tell if it'll crack in the oven."
"Yeah, I figured I'd roll the wire into two triangles, put the clay on, then put them together and make sure they are really secure," Finch said, motioning with his hands.
Max gave a thumbs up, looking over at Ed. They sighed, playing with one of their rings, looking worried for their brother. He moved back to the hammock, bringing up a chair, carefully watching the other. "What was he doing before he passed out?"
"He was starting to do something with the clay, but he'd just started, so I'm not sure what," Finch said as he started working again.
"Alright, gonna need that to trigger his memory again so he doesn't pass out again," Max sighed.
"How's that work?" Finch asked curiously.
"So, from what the doctors say," Max hummed, trying to think, "Basically the cataplexy means he gets paralyzed. The narcolepsy actually makes him pass out, which becomes a lot easier when his muscle tension is basically zero. It's also 'cause he doesn't release wake-up chemicals, as the Doc called them. So when he's slept like shit, you can imagine how much easier that is. Usually it doesn't last very long- but it's disorienting, so it takes a while for him to remember what he was doing. The faster he remembers, the faster he can wake up." Max smiled a bit, happy they'd remembered all of that, and looked up. "I may or may not be interested in the medical field," They admitted.
"Oh... Huh. That's pretty cool," Finch said. "The medical field interest, not the... yeah." Stop talking now.
Max laughed a little, "No, it is all cool. It's just kinda shitty, too." 
Max pat Ed's forehead, and he shot up, blinking rapidly, "FUCK!" 
Max chuckled, "What were you sculpting, bro?" 
"A-a-auh...." He looked over, squinting at the clay, trying not to collapse again, "Uhm... Uh..." 
"Easy, focus. Kinda looks like a flower?" Max said, glancing over. 
"Oh. A rose. I was-" His face heated up, "-doING A THING FOR A FRIEND." He took a breath, because fuck he didn't want to pass out again.
Finch kinda watched as he worked, not wanting to disrupt or somehow make it worse.
Max gently pat Ed's head, "Let's bring it up to your room, yeah?" 
Ed sighed, waving Max off. He got up, moving over to the table (only slightly woozy). He waved to Finch awkwardly, then moved with Max out of the room. 
It was another half-hour before Buttons moved into the garage, "I'm freeeee~!"
Finch waved to them, going back to work. By the time Buttons came in, he was finishing the last one. "Jeez, she stole you for a while," he teased. "What were ya talkin' about?"
"Sibling stuff," Buttons murmured, blushing a little. "Wow, that looks nice~."
"As an only child, I have no idea what that means," Finch giggled, twirling the menorah in his hand. "Yeah, it's not bad, huh?" He beamed, setting it down carefully as he grabbed the wire again, cutting pieces out and forming them into the shape he wanted above the top to make sure the sizing was okay. Content, he took them back, forming them into two triangles before grabbing a piece of clay and rolling it.
Buttons watched with interest, recognizing the shape. "We could probably pop it in the oven and head up, Max doesn't know the definition of sleep. Ironically," He chuckled.
"Yeah, all I gotta do is make the Star and form it, and the cups, onto it and make sure they are all secure, make the bottom, unless you wanna do that. Just take a cup or a ball of some sort and form it around it, then cut it to be even," Finch said, focused as he stuck one of the wire pieces through it. "We could probably finish the whole thing within another hour, at most."
Buttons nodded, moving to help how Finch directed him.
Once they had put the final touches together and Finch had made sure everything was secure and wouldn't easily break off, he looked up at Buttons proudly. "I think it's done!" His eyes were shining in a way they usually didn't.
Buttons smiled happily at the shine, going, "Alright, let's put 'er in~!" Soon enough, they had the manorah in the oven, and Buttons was leading Finch upstairs again after Max swore to bring the item out of the oven when the timer went off.
Finch flopped onto the bed, sprawled across it, his eyes closed but a small smile on his face.
"Incoming," Buttons laughed, flopping next to Finch and nuzzling close. "Day 1. Status: Alive. Mostly."
"Day 1, didn't massively embarrass myself in front of your family. I hope," Finch giggled, wrapping around him like a koala.
"Nope," Buttons giggled, snuggling closer happily. "Are we showering or just sleeping?"
"I'm guessing we can't shower together without raising some eyebrows," Finch grinned, opening his eyes to look at him softly.
"I mean, we can, we just can't make noise," Buttons snorted softly. He curled into the bed and Finch more.
"Hm, tempting~" Finch grinned, not having much intention of leaving Buttons' arms at the moment. After a moment, he said quietly. "I want to make a quick animation for your brother, he seems to really like Spiderman, so I wanna do like... a shot of Spidey swinging into the frame and pulling off his mask and it's Junior. You think he'd like that?"
"I think he'd scream out of pure joy," Buttons chuckled. 
 He thought to himself, his ears going red again.
"Would you absolutely hate me if I started storyboarding it now?" Finch grinned. "I'll stay here and let you cuddle me if it helps~"
"As long as I get to cuddle you, I don't care," Buttons hummed happily.
Finch kissed him quickly before hopping down to grab his laptop and tablet, setting it up as he got back and settled against the pillows. He closed the latke recipe that was open when he opened his laptop; he'd considered trying to make them, but after the failed challah, decided not to. He woke up the tablet by wiggling the pen across it, opening Flash.
Buttons didn't notice (mostly cuz he didn't understand). "Hey, if you're interested in making any other stuff, we got plenty," Buttons giggled, cuddling up to Finch's back. He kept his arms around the other's waist, letting him work.
Finch shrugged, "I wouldn't want to make another mess. I tried to recreate my mom's challah- its a type a bread- and it turned out pretty horribly. I burned the hell outta it but somehow the inside was still raw. Guess I'm not a baker," he joked as he started sketching.
"Hmm~... If you want, we can try to make it tomorrow. We really don't celebrate a lot," Buttons admitted with a bit of a chuckled. "Our celebrating is chilling without school."
Finch was quiet for a moment, it seemed that maybe he didn't hear him? "I'd like that," he said after a moment, glancing at Buttons. "We could make latkes and doughnuts," he smiled softly. "And maybe retry the challah, possibly with some help."
"What's a latke?" Buttons asked curiously, nuzzling into Finch's neck and watching the other.
"Basically like a fried potato pancake," Finch explained. "Latkes and doughnuts are traditional, cause the whole oil thing, and you fry them in oil, ya know. They were my favorite part, but I haven't had them in years."
"Well... We got a frier..." Buttons looked extremely interested. "We can try it~!"
Finch butted his head lightly against Buttons'. He was so in love with this boy, and so so grateful for him and his family taking him in and letting him celebrate his own holiday.
Buttons laughed a little, placing kisses on Finch's cheek and neck happily. "I love you so much~," He hummed.
"I love 
 so much," Finch countered. "And... thanks. Seriously. I would be moping in my bed all alone right now had you not brought me in."
Buttons hummed again, "I couldn't let my boyfriend just be mopin'...." He smiled a little, "Plus, I get to cuddle you in my bed~." His voice dropped a little, "Get to be with you~ In my bed~." He was just teasing now, kissing Finch's neck again and letting the kiss linger.
"Oh, naughty naughty brat boy," Finch teased, trying to stay on focus with the sketching, as tempting as Buttons was.
"Hehe~," Buttons giggled, lightly nomming on Finch's neck. He settled down, though, wanting the other to focus, and hummed softly, just keeping close.
Finch rolled his eyes with a smile, leaning a little more against him. "By the time I finish the storyboarding, most of your family will probably be asleep," Finch said, just kinda throwing that out there.
"Not me~," Buttons smirked, "And my room is next to Ed's and Max's... Ed is a deep sleeper, and Max sleeps with music..." Just to say that. Y'know.
"Hm. Interesting." Finch said oh so casually, just sketching. No naughtiness happening here, so innocent~
Buttons hummed in response, teasingly nomming on Finch's neck again, and just resting there.
Finch laughed softly, resting his head against Buttons'. "Does your mama know you are trying to be naughty with your boyfriend under her roof~?" he teased.
"Considering I have five siblings, I don't think she can scold me," Buttons smirked.
"You know what... fair enough," Finch snickered. His hand moved fast, and the general motion of a figure swinging into the shot was clear.
Buttons got a little distracted, watching Finch draw quietly, just looking amazed. He relaxed against the other, almost hypnotized by Finch's movements.
By the time he was done, an hour and a half had passed. "How's that?" Finch asked, playing the simple animation back on a loop for him.
"Looks badass," Buttons hummed, eyes wide. "June's really gonna love it."
Finch grinned, saving it before closing his laptop and setting it on the ground beside him. He hummed, coming back up to kiss Buttons softly. "What now?" he asked teasingly.
Buttons felt a shiver move through him, glancing to make sure the laptop wasn't in the way. He shrugged, a bit mischievously, "I may or may not have supplies for some fun, if you're interested...~"
"Oh? What kind of fun?" Finch grinned teasingly.
Buttons hummed, curious, and he moved to kiss Finch gently, hugging the other a little closer, "Pretty sure you're aware of the kind of fun." He smirked a little, kissing the other again.
"I'm a good little Jewish boy, a man of God, I have no idea what you're talking about," Finch teased.
"Pfft," Buttons snickered, his voice dropping lower. "When we got together it's 'cause you were getting off on me in the shower~." He moved to kiss Finch's neck, lightly nipping on the skin.
"W-well, I'm also half Spanish, must be where my lack of shame comes from," he joked. Certainly untrue, told by the blush on his face.
Buttons snickered, "You wanna test that?" He shifted, nuzzling a little lower, scraping his teeth against what he knew was sensitive skin.
Finch made a small whine, leaning his head away a little to give him more room.
Buttons hummed, and... Gosh, he was in a playful mood. He blew a raspberry against the skin, giggling as he picked up Finch and turned, laying the other against the bed with quiet laughter.
"You dork," Finch giggled, holding onto Buttons' waist.
Buttons was beaming, snuggling closer, "Yep." He moved up to kiss Finch happily, "One happy dork that's happily in love." He moved his hands to either side of Finch's head, palms on the bed, "Also one happy dork that has his boyfriend pinned to a bed~."
"What's that make me, huh? Just a boyfriend pinned to a bed?" Finch winked, a grin on his face, looking just as taken with him.
"How about a cute, adorable, artistic and amazingly talented boyfriend that's pinned to a bed?" Buttons hummed.
"Unrealistic," Finch deadpanned, snorting softly.
"Very realistic," Buttons said with a smile, kissing Finch again. "I love you~."
"I love 
," Finch grinned happily, kissing him back sweetly.
"I love 
 Buttons giggled, kissing his nose. "I love you so so so so much~," Buttons hummed, shifting a bit to straddle the other.
"Stop takin' the words outta my mouth," Finch teased, pulling Buttons down to kiss him again. "It's rude~"
"It's not rude, it's mind-reading," Buttons giggled, leaning into the kiss, feeling so happy, his heart so full of love he was gonna explode.
"Well, ain't it lucky I love you so much~" Finch could say it all night, and it still wouldn't seem like enough.
Buttons gently pressed himself down against the other, his kisses lowering again to Finch's neck, nipping and nuzzling close, "And I love you tons~."
"I could say it a million times and it wouldn't be enough times to tell you how much I love you," Finch said, holding onto him, nuzzling his face against his hair.
"I could scream it to the world but I wouldn't be happy until every star heard me say I love you~," Buttons giggled.
"That's gay, Benny," Finch teased.
"We're gay, Patty," Buttons teased back, moving up to kiss Finch's lips. "Like, real gay."
"Thank god," Finch sighed. "I don't know what I'd do if we were straight. Die, probably."
"Probably," Buttons giggled, nuzzling closer. He was really teetering on the edge of being horny and just flopping on the other in cuddles. So he did just lay on the other in cuddles. For now~!
Finch squeezed his arms around him, kissing his forehead. "God, imagine telling that scared little boy running away from home that this is where he'd end up..." he said softly. "Holding the cutest boy in the world, so happy and full of love~"
Buttons squeaked like a squeak toy, giggling as he nuzzled closer. "Sometimes the bravest people get the nicest things~," He praised.
Finch wondered how he'd react if he knew exactly what he'd been through, and was almost tempted to tell him. He didn't want to ruin the moment though, and decided against it. "Yeah... I guess I'm just a lucky guy," he murmured, leaning forward to kiss Buttons softly.
Buttons noticed the look. "Hey, you wanna hear a secret?" He said softly.
"Sure, what is it?" Finch asked curiously.
"I lived in Cali, for like, a really long time~," Buttons giggled, mimicking a Cali girl's accent. He shifted, going to normal, "A fire ate our house. It was just me and Ed and Jan. We were homeless for a bit, then we inherited this place... Still poor, but not homeless." He smiled softly, "I barely remember it, but my family calls it the Dark Ages of our history."
"Damn, must've been scary... At least I didn't have to worry 'bout anyone but myself," Finch said, implying that he too had been homeless.
Buttons hugged Finch closer, "I'm just... Trying to say I know some of it. I clearly don't know everything and you don't gotta tell me everything. I love you, okay?"
"Yeah..." Finch pressed his forehead softly to Buttons. He sighed softly, working his hand into Buttons' hair. "And it's not that I don't wanna tell you, I just... it's not the funnest story, ya know? Don't wanna bring the mood down."
"Up to you. I think the mood right now is cuddles and love," Buttons hummed, relaxed on top of the other. He relaxed with the pets, keeping close.
"I will one day, alright?" Finch promised, kissing him softly.
"Alright," Buttons hummed, leaning into the kiss. He nuzzled close, wanting to comfort the other.
Finch closed his eyes with a soft sigh, happy to just be here with him. "You're warm," he mumbled.
"You're cozy," Buttons murmured, relaxing. "Get to cuddle a cute pretty boy in my bed," He hummed happily, eyes closing.
"You're the cute pretty boy," Finch murmured, snuggling him closer.
"No you are," Buttons hummed, kissing Finch's cheek.
"You are, no take backs," Finch giggled softly. He was already starting to doze off.
"Okay, but you are too," Buttons said, his words barely above a whisper. "G'night, babe..."
"G'nigh," Finch mumbled back, falling asleep in the warm coziness of his boyfriend.
-
Buttons woke up around 9:30, trying to ignore the sun in his eyes. He shifted very slightly, resting in the crook of Finch's neck, relaxed.
"Mornin'," Finch mumbled, having been stirring from sleep for the last few minutes.
Buttons just hummed in response, slowly curling his arms around Finch more. He realized why he'd felt so sluggish for the past few mornings- Finch wasn't there. He cuddled more into the other, happy that he was with Finch now.
Finch pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to his forehead. He had an idea of a cute animation bit of this- ohhh he had ideas for a few cute animations and he'd put so many hearts people would choke on it.
 Buttons smiled, blushing a little. He moved to kiss Finch's lips sleepily, imagining waking up like this every morning and just melting from that.
"What a lovely wake up call~" Finch teased, his voice a little rough from sleep, his hair sticking up in every direction messily.
Buttons hummed softly, "Mhm." He kissed Finch's cheek, moving off of/away from the other and sitting up, stretching and cracking his joints.
Finch tried to pat his bedhead down as he sat up, yawning. Uh oh, how'd he get here? He was now wrapped against Buttons' waist, his chin resting on his shoulder. Mmm, he didn't mind.
"Hum~?" Buttons moved an arm around Finch's shoulders, cuddling the other closer, "Why, hello." He gently kissed Finch's forehead, relaxed.
"Hi~" Finch smiled sleepily, blushing a little because he was just... very happy, very warm, very gay.
Buttons saw the blush, shifting to kiss Finch's lips happily. Very warm. Very gay. Much cuddle.
"Ugh, you're gonna kill me, I'm not emotionally ready for you to be kissing me so sweetly," Finch whined.
"Sh, let me revel in my morning breath not killing you," Buttons teased, going to kiss Finch again, tongue swiping against the other's lips.
"See, that's how much I love you, I don't even care that your breath stinks," Finch giggled.
Buttons laughed. "Well." He kissed Finch's nose, "Then let me go take care of that." He got up, getting a change of clothes, "Most of the rooms up here are bedrooms, first floor is anything you want it to be. Don't be afraid to come join me in the shower~." He winked, tiredly moving out of the room.
Finch sat there for about maybe half a second before getting his own change of clothes and followed him. I mean, what better way to wake up than a shower, and it would only be saving water!
Max was already downstairs, a bagel in the toaster. They looked over at Finch, rolling their eyes and shaking their head softly as they waited. Hm.
Hm. Finch just quietly leaned against the wall as he waited for Buttons, having a feeling Max knew what they'd been doing upstairs.
Yes. Max definitely knew. As they got their bagel, they looked at Finch with a raised eyebrow, "I'd appreciate it if you two left your orgasms away from where I shower." They snickered a bit, then paused- "Oh, the manorah. It's in the garage. Didn't crack at all, so it should be good for painting."
Finch flushed, giving him a small shamed salute, "Cool," he said in a small voice.
Max gave a thumbs up, taking a bite of the bagel- were those raisins? -and headed to the living room. 
Buttons hummed as he came downstairs, blinking when Max stopped him. He nodded, blushing a little, then moved over to Finch. "Well, we weren't quiet," He mumbled, a little embarrassed.
"I know, I thought we'd done at least a fairly good job," Finch blushed, putting his face in Buttons' neck. "Hopefully he's the only one who heard."
Buttons chuckled, keeping close, "Hopefully." He hummed, looking over, "What do you wanna eat~?" He was thinking about the different things they had, humming.
"Whatcha got?" Finch mumbled into his neck.
Buttons shifted, an arm around Finch's waist while the other opened the fridge, "Egg, bread, bacon... more bread in the form of bagel." He chuckled a bit.
"Bacon... Egg.. cheese... 
," Finch said slowly, rising from Buttons' chest dramatically slow.
Buttons snickered, kissing Finch's forehead again before going for the bagels, "Plain or cinnamon raisin?"
"Plain, please~" Finch said, leaning against the counter as he watched. It was cold... "Would you, 
, have hot chocolate we can make?"
Buttons let out a 
 hum, taking out two bagels. He took a breath to continue the hum as he put them into the toaster, going back and taking out the jug of milk. He finally broke the hum, "You want the weird powder stuff or actual chocolate syrup?"
"Hmmmmmm, weird powder stuff 
 chocolate syrup," Finch grinned, rubbing his gay little hands together.
Buttons gasped dramatically, "Oh, that's 
 He moved to get two mugs, pouring the milk into both. "Marshmallows or nah?" He put the milk back, going for the syrup and a packet of powder.
"What kind of man do you take me for, Benjamin. Of course marshmallows," Finch said dramatically
"I take you for a man who likes marshmallows, Patrick," Buttons answered, eyebrows raised as he moved to pour the cold milk from both mugs into a bigger cup, and put that in the microwave.
"Good," Finch grinned, draping himself over Button's shoulders, maybe needing to stand a little bit on his toes to do so.
Buttons crouched a little, giggling.
Finch stayed on him totally not dozing off again until the microwave went off. "Benny, the microwave went off," he said as if it weren't obvious, not moving a muscle.
"You koala," Buttons hummed happily, going to take out the milk. He poured it back into the mugs, putting the respective chocolates in the mugs and stirring. He went for the mallows, humming, "Careful~ It's hot~." He relaxed, happy with Finch.
Finch hummed happily, basking in the warmth of the mug, taking a small sip. "Ow." He blew on it a little and took another sip. Still hot.
"I said careful," Buttons giggled, kissing Finch's head. 
Buttons didn't notice how his mother was by the doorway, smiling softly and watching her son just being happy in love.
"But it's so good," Finch pouted, taking another sip and ignoring his burning taste buds, not noticing her either. He jumped a little bit as the toaster went off, but managed not to spill the hot chocolate. He pressed a kiss to Buttons' shoulder as he set the mug down to get them. Again, not caring about the hot.
"Babe!" Buttons squeaked, moving to grab Finch gently and pull him back. "Heat, love. 
"Hungry, babe. 
," Finch grinned. "Fire cannot kill a dragon~"
"You're a bird," Buttons snickered, carefully popping out the bagels onto a plate. "You want any butter or cream cheese?"
"Crem chez," Finch giggled, snuggling into his back. "And of course I'm a bird, thaz why dey calls me Finch~"
"I thouz dey callz ya Finch cuz you sing like a preddy birdie~," Buttons hummed, going to get the cream cheese and putting it carefully on the bagel. He perked up when his mom laughed softly, blushing. His mom hummed, going to make a mug of coffee.
Finch snorted at that, flushing a little when he realized she was there. "Good morning, ma'am," he said quietly, still a little shy around her.
The woman laughed a little, "Jess is fine, dear." 
Buttons handed Finch the bagel, kissing his forehead anyway. She seemed to soften at that, happy that her son was happy.
Finch nodded softly, taking the bagel happily, taking a bite.
She hummed, "I'm going out today with your father. Don't burn the house down." 
Jess moved to kiss Button's cheek, and he smiled a little, "Have fun." 
"Thanks," She hummed, getting the cup and moving off.
Finch waved, leaning back against Buttons as he ate his bagel. "We gonna have a cook day?" he asked.
"Yup," Buttons beamed. He put some cream cheese on his bagel, taking a bite and sipping happily from his mug. Hot chocolate and bagels.
Finch finished one half of the bagel when he remembered. "Oh, yeah!" He ran out to the garage with no further explanation. 
He picked up the menorah carefully, happily checking over it.
"Hum?" Buttons just let the other run off, continuing to eat his breakfast. He shifted to see what ingredients they had, a bit worried they might not have everything.
Finch was quite happy with it, and the dreidels had turned out pretty good as well. He left them there, already thinking of the colors he'd paint them. "They turned out great!" he said happily as he came back into the kitchen.
Buttons smiled, "That's good! So then maybe while things are cooking we can paint? Is there any baking involved?" He looked over, eyebrow raised.
"Latkes will be quick to make, I think it's literally just prep and mix the ingredients and then fry them. Donuts are a little longer to make the dough, but cook quickly once thats done. Overall, prolly would only take... two hours roughly? Well, actually less if we're workin' together and doing them at the same time." Finch explained, pulling up recipes on his phone. "Then we'd be done, and we can paint," he smiled happily.
"Alright... Frier." He reached down, pulling out the long rectangular frier. He set it on the counter, taking the basket out, and making sure it was clean before pouring in the oil. He hummed, plugging it in and covering it up so it would be ready to use later. "Alright, explain away~."
Finch nodded, reading over the instructions of both. "Yeah, we have to leave the dough out to rise for an hour, so it would be best to do that first."In a small bowl, combine the yeast, 1 tablespoon flour, 1 tablespoon sugar, and water. Mix well, cover, and allow to rest until the mixture becomes foamy," he read aloud. "In another large bowl, mix the remaining 3 cups of flour with the melted margarine, salt, remaining sugar, and the egg yolks."
Buttons was grabbing ingredients, putting them up, "Alright, uh... Do we need the same stuff for other things?"
"For the latkes, its shredded potatos, grated onion, eggs, flour, salt, and peanut oil," Finch read. "Oh, and jelly and powdered sugar for the donut filling and topping."
"Oh boy," Buttons laughed, looking around. "I'll do my best."
Finch grinned at him, "Do we need ta go to the store for anything?"
"Uhhhhh I don't 
 so...?" Buttons pulled out the potatoes and onions.
"Okay, cool," Finch beamed, rolling up his sleeves. He set the phone in between them on the counter, looking around. "Measuring cups..."
"Cabinet right of the oven," Buttons answered, bringing things over.
Finch went and grabbed the cups, getting a couple bowls down too. "Gotta melt the butter down," he said to Buttons. "A fourth of a cup." He started reading the directions again, following them as he measured out a small amount of flour and sugar, double checking this was right.  Yeah, the rest went in the other bowl.
Buttons went to cut the butter, putting it in a bowl and popping it in the microwave in intervals, not wanting it to explodé.
Finch stuck his tongue out a little in focus, making sure it was all measured and mixed right before he covered it to rest a little while he measured out the mixture for the larger bowl.
Buttons moved to bring the butter, helping measure and mix where he could. He was enjoying helping, following with a hum.
Finch smiled at him. This was nice, and quite peaceful. The house itself was quiet,  although he could hear some commotion that sounded like playing outside. He'd already managed to get flour on his shirt and a little on his face, but that was okay.
As they continued, Buttons noticed the flour on his love's face. He got a rag and licked it, and when Finch wasn't paying attention he moved to scrub the flour off before setting the rag down and continuing in what he was doing, humming softly.
"Gross, cooties," Finch teased jokingly, glancing at him as he whisked the mixture.
Buttons rolled his eyes, "Oh, yeah, 'course. You're infected now."
Finch giggled, huffing as he kept whisking. "You know, I just realized that this has to turn from a liquid to a solid."
"So how much mixing do we gotta go?" Buttons said with wide eyes.
Finch looked down at the bowl. "I realize now that usually a mixer would be used for this. Do you have one by any chance?"
"Uhhhhhhhhhh....." Buttons moved around, trying to find it, and he eventually did... Oh jeez. He started climbing the counter, standing on top as he got it, putting it on to the sink. He moved down carefully, but of course he slipped. He yelped, crashing to the floor, thankfully only falling on his side. "Ow..." He mumbled.
Finch yelped, quickly setting the bowl on the counter and kneeling beside him. "Are you okay??" he asked worriedly, carefully helping him sit up.
"Yeah, all good," He managed, laughing a little in disbelief. "Usually I don't fall over," He managed, rubbing his arm. "Oof..." He looked at Finch, "I'm good."
"Are you sure?" Finch asked, clearly disbelieving that he was really all okay.
"Yeah, yeah... Hold on." He gently nudged Finch away, stretching out his arm and rolling it around, then bending his joints, making sure his shoulder and elbow were okay. He nodded, "Yeah, all good, just sore." He chuckled, "Body fat really out here saving my bones." He gently moved closer to Finch again, "I'm good."
"Should I kiss it better?" Finch said a little cheekily after making sure he really was okay.
Buttons blinked. He held out his arm, "My bownes weally wurt, dey's needin' twu wuv's kiss."
Finch snorted, taking his wrist tenderly and pressing small kisses up his forearm before looking at him, still holding his wrist loosely. "Anywhere else?" he said with a cheeky grin that had his mother seen, would think he looked just like his father.
"How about here?" Buttons said softly, pointing at his lips.
"Oh, of course, it's dangerous to let those go unkissed~" Finch teased as he pulled Buttons forward a little while leaning in himself, kissing him tenderly.
Buttons hummed happily in the kiss, moving his arms around Finch's shoulders and pulling the other in for a bit of a longer kiss.
Finch hummed, leaning in a little more into him, deepening it a little. 
Junior just wanted a snack. Just a snack, not a scar for life. He ran into the kitchen, not expecting, of course, to see his older brother making out on the floor with his boyfriend. "Eeeewww, gross!" he shouted, covering his eyes maybe peeking. 
Amy snorted behind him, "Do I ever want to know how you two ended up there?" 
Finch had pulled away from him, flushing a little as he stood up quickly and helped Buttons up, "He, uh, he fell, I was helping him up." 
"I've never helped anyone up like that before," Amy chuckled, going to the fridge with raised eyebrows. 
"Do you guys always kiss?" Junior asked, wrinkling his nose.
Buttons 
 blushing bright red and still leaning into Finch. He managed to stand with the other, letting go carefully, and glaring a bit at Amy. He looked back at Junior, "Yeah. People kiss people that they love." He was calming down, trying to ignore his burning blush.
"Someone at my school got in trouble cause he was kissing a girl," Junior said, taking the applesauce Amy handed to him. 
You could almost see the struggle on Finch's face not to say "cause being straight is illegal" as a joke. Amy looked like she might be holding back a retort of her own.
"Well, that's not fair," Buttons answered, "Unless the guy or the girl were already with someone. Or they were supposed to be in class." He smiled a bit.
"He was playing a joke on her I think..." June looked confused for a second as he thought of something. "Wait, but I love Mom and Dad but I don't kiss them?"
"Well, you kiss their cheeks- but you save lip kisses for people you're thinking about marrying-" oh. "-I MEAN. AS IN. SPENDING YOUR LIFE WITH THEM- I MEAN... Yeah I'm not making this any better," He muttered, head down in defeat.
"Oooohhh, okay!" Junior seemed content with that. "I'm gonna play Sims now." He took his snack and walked out.
"Well, you two seem busy enough in here," Amy said, a knowing look on her face as she too walked out. 
Finch looked back at Buttons with raised eyebrows. "What was that you were saying?" he teased, leaning into him. "What, you havin' some ideas in that brain a your's?"
Buttons nodded, huffing at Amy, and then turning bright red. "I been having ideas, Finch. Don't get too excited about them, they ain't for a long while," He huffed, gently nudging the other, seriously trying to calm down his blush. He whined, putting his face in his hands. Stupid Jan.
Finch giggled, nudging one of Buttons' hands away with his nose to kiss his cheek. Weirdly enough, he wasn't bothered by the idea. The idea of spending the rest of his life like this... it was tempting, really.
Buttons blinked, shifting to kiss Finch gently. "One day," He murmured.
"I wouldn't mind that," Finch murmured softly back, staying where he was for a moment before kissing his cheek once more before going back to start the mixer up.
Buttons' eyes lit up at that, and smiled a bit as Finch moved off. He was just standing there stunned, watching the other happily. "Have I told you how much I love you?" He hummed, head tilting to the side.
"I believe you might have mentioned it once or twice," Finch giggled, glancing back at him. "I might need help figuring out how to use this, by the way."
"Oh fuck-" Buttons laughed, going over to set it up.
Finch helped the best he could, and after a... couple minutes, it was running smoothly and mixing the batter. And soon it was turning into a dough. "Had I done that by hand, I would have been absolutely jacked by the end," he giggled.
"Yeah, you could be using your hand for something else," He smirked.
"Gross, gutter-brain," Finch snickered, pushing him lightly. When the mixture was looking doughy, he got the dough off the whisk and covered it with a towel, setting it to the side to prove. "Well, that's there for about two hours, so wanna make the latkes?"
"Sure~," Buttons hummed, going to set up the next stuff.
"Potatos, eggs, flour, salt, mix em together and thats it, ya just just fry em after that."
"Alright," Buttons said, starting to pour things in.
Finch leaned against him, helping where he could but maybe just kinda cuddling him.
Buttons enjoyed the cuddles, blinking as he uncovered the frier. He put things in the basket, moving it into the frier and covering it again. "How long do we wait?"
"Doesn't say... Prolly gotta watch 'em, just said turn 'em when they're golden brown," Finch said.
"Alright... I guess," Buttons murmured. He took the basket out and turned things over before putting it back.
Finch nuzzled into him. watching and directing him to the shaping of them, happy and warm.
Buttons followed, humming along. By the end, they had a nice plate of them. "What should I do with these?" He hummed.
"Let 'em cool, nom nom yam-aka," Finch giggled.
He rolled his eyes, setting them in the microwave. "Y'think the dough's done? How long did that take?"
"Like... 30 minutes. So we got a while longer," Finch murmured, still nuzzling him.
Buttons turned, wrapping his arms around Finch and nuzzling him closer, humming softly.
"Wanna paints the dreidels?" Finch suggested.
"Alrighty," He murmured, kissing Finch's forehead, moving with the other but still keeping an arm around his waist.
Finch led him along to the garage. He took the slightly wonky one, hiding it in his hand and pushing the other (slightly better) one to Buttons. "See, they turned out great!" (Not pointing out that he'd given Buttons the one that he'd made, of course.)
"Finch," Buttons said, deadpan, "I'm not dumb. The one I made had an indent right there."
Finch clicked his tongue, putting Buttons' back on the table. "Yours is still good too," he said with a smile.
Buttons looked at his, beaming, "Fuck, it came out better than I thought it would." He went to try to spin it, and it was a little sloppy, but it worked!!
Finch beamed, going to find the paints. He did after a few moments, bringing the bin over and setting it down on the table between them.
"Alright, you gotta teach me what to paint," Buttons giggled.
"I can shows ya, but I'm gonna paint mine first~" Finch grabbed the blue, getting one of the brushes and starting to paint one side of it. "Once it dries, we can paint the symbols and the top on."
"Alright." Buttons copied, painting his as well.
Once he'd painted the sides, he watched Buttons, blowing on it to dry faster.
Buttons waved his gently in the air to dry it off, humming softly. He then went and painted a stripe of blue on Finch's cheek.
Finch squinted, slowly leaned in, took Buttons face... and he kissed him sweetly. Then while he was distracted, did a quick two dots and a curve to paint a smiley face on his cheek.
Buttons blinked, and then melted into the kiss a bit. He giggled, looking over in a mirror at the smiley. "Y'know what, that's fair," He laughed.
Finch laughed softly, grabbing his chin to turn his head a little, painting a little heart on his other cheek.
Buttons hummed, letting Finch do as he pleased. He looked in the mirror again, gasping. "Oh no. My reputation!!"
"Oh, and what reputation is that, hah?" Finch asked, kissing his lips softly since his cheeks now had paint on them.
"Me being a big tough button," Buttons pouted.
"Aw, poor babe," Finch giggled. "Everyone already knows you're a big softie~" He poked his cheek where it wasn't painted.
Buttons puffed out his cheeks, then giggled and went to normal, kissing Finch, "Whoopsies~."
Finch giggled, then turned his head back to the dreidel in his hand. He tested it, and the paint was dried. So he set it down to pull up the symbols on his phone, figuring he would go ahead and explain the game while they was painting, but he grabbed the silver paint first.
Buttons listened to the explanation, following along and asking questions where he was confused. He looked excited to be playing the new game, almost buzzing in place.
"Ya got the coins, or sometimes, like my family did it, we'd use some sorta candy like M&Ms or somethin', and ya give everyone an equal amount, we usually agreed on seven each," Finch explained as he found smaller brushes for them, handing one to Buttons. "This one," he gestured to the symbol on the phone as he started carefully painting it on one of the sides, "Is Nun. Easy 'nough to remember, nun does nothin', if ya roll it, you just pass to the next player."
Buttons quickly realized they were going to have to expose Finch to the Candy Shelf. He tried to hide the slight panic as he focused.
"Gimmel," Finch explained, too focused to notice, "means ya 'get'. Land on this and you take the whole middle pot, and everyone else has ta put two coins in to make a new pot."
Buttons nodded again, humming.
"Hey is half, so ya take half the pot." Finch paused to finish the symbol before continuing. "And Shin is share, so you'd put two coins in the pot."
"Alright, that all makes sense," Buttons hummed, trying to think. "Are you allergic to anything?"
"Nope," Finch said as he finished painting the top of the dreidel silver before blowing it.
"Phew," Buttons murmured, following all the symbols as he painted them on. "I may or may not have a sacred thing to show you in the kitchen."
Finch looked up at that, "And what's that?"
"It may or may not include something to play this game with," Buttons said casually, blowing on his dreidel to dry it off.
Finch was intrigued. He touched the paint, dry. He spun it, and it twirled for a good moment before it landed. "Gimmel, I take the pot~"
"If you eat all the candy, I think my family will throw me out of the house," Buttons giggled, kissing Finch's nose before motioning for the other to follow him back to the kitchen. He'd completely forgotten about the paint on his face.
Finch snickered, following him. "That's alright, I already took my prize this mornin'," he teased.
Buttons gasped, looking offended, "But don't you want it every morning??"
"Every mornin' sounds nice~" Finch grinned.
Buttons smiled, moving to kiss Finch gently before going to the cabinet. With a dramatic, shakey hand, he opened it and pointed to the top shelf. ... That's a lot of candy. Who needs that many different types of M&Ms???
“Oh my god,” Finch snickered. “It’s a whole treasure trove! Ya got that marked on a map somewhere?”
"Come over for Easter," Buttons answered ominously.
"What's Easter?" Finch joked, putting an arm around him. "I bet it's insane with all a that chocolate."
"Oh gosh it's fun," Buttons giggled.
"I just know that when the egg bunnies come out, means chocolate's on sale soon," Finch snickered.
"No, it means you get to run around collecting eggs and get 
 chocolate," Buttons clarified.
"I'm a Jew, this holiday isn't for me, therefore I gotta pay ta get in on it," Finch said, nudging him with a grin.
"Sh, I'll sneak you in," Buttons giggled, "Like sneaking people in the movie theater for a free movie."
Finch giggled, leaning into him. "Are there like... rules?" Cause like legitimately other than the commercialized stuff he wasn't sure how it was celebrated.
"Nah, just don't steal the little kid’s candy," Buttons hummed.
"Huh. There's like.. no rituals or nothin'?" Finch asked a little confused. "Ya don't go ta church?"
"Finch, we're not 'go to church every Sunday' Christians, in case you hadn't noticed," Buttons smirked.
"Well yeah, but like most Jewish holidays you'd go ta temple at least once ta pray," Finch said.
Buttons shrugged a bit, "Well, we don't usually go."
"Huh... alright," Finch shrugged. He looked at the time, at the bowl. "We still got a while before that's done so... We could start paintin' the menorah," he suggested.
"Alrighty~," Buttons hummed, following Finch back to the garage.
Finch started working on painting, not realizing he'd started humming softly as he made sure to get in the indents of the swirls.
Buttons watched, cuddled into Finch's back, watching and listening in a soft amazement.
"
" His voice was soft and sweet, his lips barely moving, still looking unaware of what he was doing as his hands moved. "
"
Buttons was melting. Buttons was so in love 
 He snuggled closer, quietly listening, not wanting to break the spell.
"
" Finch had starting riffing Zendaya's lines, realizing what he was doing. He blinked, looking at Buttons shyly. "S-sorry," he said sheepishly, a bit of a blush on his face.
"Don't gotta apologize," Buttons murmured, "Like I said; your voice is beautiful." He was loving listening to the other, snuggled close.
Finch's blush only grew at that, and he was too shy to continue, squirming a little bit in a little bit of embarrassment as if this didn't happen all the time.
Buttons laughed softly, nuzzling into Finch's neck. "C'mon, little bird... You can keep singing~."
Finch squeaked at the nickname, totally red now. "Noooo, it's embarrassing...."
"No it's not~," Buttons cooed, kissing Finch's neck. "It's adorable is what it is, birdie~."
"Stooooopp," Finch whined, getting even more flustered.
"Ooooh," Buttons smirked, kissing again, "I don't wanna stop, little birdie~."
"Anyone who says you're innocent obviously has never been in my position," Finch muttered, trying to paint even with the rising heat.
Buttons snickered, "I'm just a guy who sews." He shifted to actually lick Finch's neck slightly before moving away teasingly, going over to another box on the shelf. He brought it out, setting it on the table, "Speaking of..." He opened it, starting to shuffle through the stuff, curious.
Finch shivered at that, squirming in his seat, glancing at him with a pout before he started painted again.
Buttons froze when he found something. He slowly pulled out a tiny dress, looking at it a bit fondly. "Hey, Finch... When we get our own place, can we get a dog? Maybe a cat, too..." He smiled softly. It was definitely a dog dress.
"I never had a dog before, you'd hafta help me figure out how ta take care of it. But I don't mind," Finch said, looking up.
Buttons looked excited for that, buzzing a bit. "Either we get a dog, or kids." He snickered a bit at that, eyebrow raised towards Finch.
"Why not both?" Finch grinned. "Prolly would hafta wait a while for that one though...." he said a little more seriously. "I wouldn't wanna fuck up a kid..." He looked away, going back to his painting.
"We wouldn't fuck up a kid," Buttons said seriously, pausing in his little search. He looked at Finch, slight concern in his eyes. "'Course we'd wait, there's some stuff I gotta do first." He hid a smirk as he looked down again, "Oh- found it." He pulled out a bracelet from when he dabbled in jewelry. It was a silver band that had beads that looked like they were made from string. He set it on the table, humming as he slid it over to Finch.
Finch glanced up at it, a smile playing at his lips, "What's this?"
"A bracelet," Buttons said matter-of-factly.
"Well, duh, but why're ya givin' it to me?" Finch asked curiously.
"'Cause I want you to wear it," Buttons said softly.
Finch rolled his eyes a little, but slid it onto his wrist. "Happy, you dork?"
"Extremely," Buttons whispered, looking at Finch with a new smile, then covered up the box again and setting it away. He moved over, wrapping his arms around Finch's waist and and cuddling into his back, looking like a Soft Button™.
Finch sighed softly, looking back at him as he leaned back into him. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips, content and happy.
Buttons leaned into the kiss with a soft smile, nuzzling close. He looked over to the Menorah, "It's beautiful."
"Yeah?" Finch asked, looking over at it. "I'll paint the bottom and the Star gold, think it'll go pretty good with the blue and silver. I mean, ya know, Hanukkah colors," he smiled.
"It'll be amazing." He gently kissed Finch's cheek, "I'm gonna go try to bring down the candy and not fall over." He walked back into the house, looking relaxed. 
Jan walked in through the back door a few minutes later, "Oh, hey! Wow, that looks nice." She looked over, whistling. Her eyes went to the bracelet as she watched him paint, and breathed out a soft, "Oh wow... He gave you it..."
Finch looked up, following her gaze to the bracelet. "Yeah, he just slid it over, wouldn't tell me why."
Jan hummed at that, leaning over the table again, "When he was first getting into crafts, he made his own string wefts. He'd buy the little folded things, and wind them into a tight ball. He got the idea to make them into beads, even if it was a big waste of string. He was so proud of the bracelet 'cause it'd taken so long to make each bead." Her gaze fell, "He was in either elementary or middle school, on the edge there. He brought it to school, and someone stole it. Basically, that was his first fist fight. He was so ashamed when Mom came to get him out of detention, but he also realized that he needed to hide precious things. He started keeping a lot of secrets after that. We didn't realize he had a box of sewing things until he went to college." She added the last part with a chuckle, rubbing her legs together. "He hid it, and he swore that he'd never let it go and only let someone he truly loved even see it again. He of course showed us before he hid it away... I've seen him eye the box when he was in other relationships, but he never took the bracelet out for them."
Finch listened in interest, his mouth falling open a little at the last part. He blinked, looking down at the bracelet he wore, fiddling with the beads that baby Buttons had so painstakingly crafted.
Jan chuckled softly, watching. "Yeah... I never expected him to touch the thing, honestly... I thought he forgot about it." She chuckled softly, shifting and standing up again. "Anyways, I'll leave you to painting," She hummed softly, going inside.
Finch smiled softly, reaching his hand up and kissing the bracelet softly before he went back to painting. Within a few more minutes, he'd finished, setting it down and looking over it with a happy grin.
Buttons came back in, humming, the smiley face washed off but the heart still there. He moved over, gasping softly and putting an arm around Finch's waist. "When it dries, we'll light it. Where do you think we should put it?" He looked excited, kissing Finch's cheek before going to find some candles.
"Wherever your mom says is okay. Usually by a window, though," Finch beamed.
"Alright, I know just the spot then," Buttons giggled. He moved to put the metal cups into the slots, and then put the candles into those, not lighting them but letting them sit there. He moved to pick it up like it was glass, being extremely careful with it (and not touching the paint too much) as he brought it into the house. There was a nice high table next to a window with two shelves under it that had books, and there was a white tablecloth over it already. He carefully set it down, smiling a bit and showing Finch.
Finch smiled, his eyes soft as he looked at it. It was almost bittersweet to see something that reminded him so strongly of home. "We'll hafta light six of 'em now, then the seventh when it gets dark."
"Alright... Let's wait until the paint fully dries, I don't wanna mess it up." Buttons moved to Finch's side again, an arm around his love's waist as he kissed Finch's temple happily.
Finch turned, nuzzling into his neck. "I love you," he murmured.
"I love you, too," Buttons murmured just as softly, cuddling Finch close, happy with the other.
"Jan told me what this bracelet is, by the way," he said softly, kissing his neck just as lightly.
Buttons shifted, blushing a little, going, "Ah, well that takes away the mystery..." His voice was soft, and he shifted to nuzzle closer gently.
"Wish I had somethin' like that I could give you," Finch sighed, his grip squishing a little tighter on his boyfriend, his best friend, his lover. He wanted something he could give to him.
"You being here is more than enough, Patrick," Buttons said softly, shifting to look at the other, "You just letting me love you, loving me, that's more than I could ever ask for."
Finch couldn't bring himself to pretend he wasn't tearing up at that. He brought one of his hands to Buttons' cheek, holding him softly. "I used ta think I wouldn't find no one," he admitted softly. "That maybe I wasn't meant to have someone like that loving me... You sure proved me wrong."
Buttons smiled a little at that, moving to kiss Finch gently, "Glad I did." He kissed Finch again, holding the other closer, pressing their foreheads together lovingly.
Finch sat happily in his embrace, content to stay there like that forever.
"So, should we check on the dough, or just cuddle on the couch?" Buttons hummed, content in Finch's arms.
"Hmmmm, my heart says cuddle but my mind says check on the dough, otherwise we'll forget about it entirely," Finch murmured.
"Hmmmm what a dilemma," Buttons hummed, gently shifting to kiss Finch lightly. "Well, I feel like there'll be plenty of time for us to cuddle," He said softly, nuzzling against the other. He still couldn't bring himself to move, though.
"Mhm..." Finch hummed back, not moving a muscle and not really intending to.
"Oh jeez, we're gonna stay like this forever, huh?" Buttons mumbled tiredly, feeling warm and cozy even though they were standing. He took a few shuffled steps towards the couch, sitting and pulling Finch to sit on top of him, laying down and pulling Finch close.
"Oh no," Finch murmured, nuzzling into his neck happily.
"A tragedy," Buttons breathed softly, kissing Finch's forehead, "Stuck forever cuddling the love of my life."
"Mmm, doesn't sound too bad, when ya put it like that," Finch said softly, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat when he called him the love of his life.
"No, it doesn't," Buttons murmured, nuzzling closer and his eyes closing.
Finch hummed happily, burrowing into the crook of love's neck and dozing off quickly. 
-
Amy came downstairs a little bit later to see them curled up. She shook her head softly, chuckling to herself as she took pictures for blackmail (or really cause she knew her mom would think they were cute) went into the kitchen, finding the mess they'd left and a proved dough ready to bake. Jesus, they'd even left the fryer on. She went over, inspecting the scene, and when she found the latkes in the microwave, she figured pretty easily they'd been making donuts. She rolled up her sleeves, going to work, I mean, she wasn't doing anything else anyways. 
Junior came in a little bit later, curious, and started helping, both being quiet as to not wake the sleeping two. When they were done, Amy covered the donuts in a cling film, presented nicely on a plate, before they cleaned up and went back to their rooms.
Buttons had woken up first, but was starting lovingly at Finch. He moved his hand to rub the other's back gently, just lost in thought about how much he loved the other. Having Finch come over had really slammed things into perspective, and he decided right there that he could genuinely spend the rest of his life with this man.
Finch hummed sorta how a cat does when you suddenly touch it while it's dozing, stirring at the movement. He sighed, cuddling deeper into him.
Buttons bit back a laugh, continuing to rub Finch's back softly. He was just laying there, soaking in the affection, loving having the other there with him.
"I wuv you~" Finch murmured happily into his neck, pressing a soft kiss there.
Buttons giggled softly, "I wuv you too~." He was just relaxed and happy, curling Finch a little closer. "I think we passed out," He said quietly, looking around tiredly.
"What time is it?" he asked. "Ah, the dough mighta been sittin' too long..."
"Y'wanna go check on it?" He hummed, gently nudging Finch to sit up.
Finch grumbled at the nudge, but got off of him. He went to the kitche- What. He blinked. Their mess was gone, and there was. The donuts??? All nicely arranged on a plate????? "Wh- did I go crazy or somethin', we didn't finish them, did we?"  he said, bewildered and not considering there were other people in the house.
Buttons got up, going over. "The Fae must'a come," He breathed, "Or my siblings." He snickered a bit, going over, kind of wanting one, but looking at Finch.
"Well....." Finch scooted over to the plate, sneaking one of the donut balls and biting into it. He squeaked as jelly almost dropped down his chin.
Buttons tried very hard. He was really trying. But he moved forwards, licking up Finch's chin. "Oh, that's good," He hummed, going to get a donut ball for himself and popping it into his mouth.
Finch giggled. "I think we did good~ Well, us and whoever finished 'em."
Buttons nodded happily, still chewing since he had literally shoved the whole thing in his mouth.
Finch popped the rest of his in his mouth, humming. He opened the microwave, getting one of the latkes to taste test it too. He nodded in approval with a grin, offering to Buttons.
Buttons made an 'ooo' sound, taking one of the latkes and eating it. "Wow, that's good," He said, doing a happy wiggle.
"Hey, and I bet the paint's dry, so we can light some of the candles now to get ready for when it's night," Finch said, nudging him.
Buttons perked up at that, looking around and grabbing a lighter. He handed it to Finch, nudging the other back, "C'mon, then~!"
Finch was excited, he hadn't been able to actually light a menorah in years. "Light the top candle, that's what we use to light the others."
Buttons blinked, and walked over with the other. He looked at the top candle, lighting it for Finch, looking excited.
Finch took the candle, carefully lighting six of them. "Usually, we'd light them one a night, but it's the seventh night, so when it gets dark we'll light the next one," he explained as he did, setting the candle back on the top. He stepped back and looked at it. Oh. There was a look in his eyes for a moment, of a deep sadness and longing, before he blinked and looked back at Buttons. "Pretty, ain't it?"
Buttons had seen it, and he carefully moved an arm around Finch, "Yeah, it is."
"Well, what trouble are we getting up to now in the meantime, hah?" Finch asked, poking his side.
Buttons looked over at a clock, shrugging, "Looks like it's only 3..." He looked at Finch, poking the other back.
"Hmmmmmmm....." Finch nuzzled back into him. "Then we got a while. Whatchu wanna do~?"
"I dunno, what do you wanna do~?" Buttons hummed, nuzzling back as he curled Finch closer, kissing the other's forehead happily.
Finch hummed. "Cuddle while I work on the animation?"
"Upstairs we go~," Buttons giggled, taking Finch's hand and moving back up to his room. He waited for Finch to settle down with the laptop and drawing tablet before going to settle behind the other again, cuddling into his back happily while scrolling through his phone.
Finch pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before settling down and starting to draw the base sketches.
Buttons was relaxed, just cuddling the other and looking through tumblr. He did make a post- "cuddling bf while he draws. never been more gay in my life."
Finch hummed softly, not thinking about it as he focused on the anatomy of the drawings.
Buttons snorted softly, going to reblog it and adding: 
Buttons smiled softly, kissing Finch's neck before going back to scrolling.
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bourbonboredom · 5 years
Text
A Reason To Believe Chapter 4
Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous  undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.
A Flip x OC Fic
Word Count: 4,743
Warnings: none
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Still don't know what I was waitin' for And my time was runnin' wild A million dead end streets and Every time I thought I'd got it made It seemed the taste was not so sweet So I turned myself to face me But I've never caught a glimpse How the others must see the faker I'm much too fast to take that test
(x)
It had been a week and a half since Rosh Hashanah. A week and a half since dinner at Elle’s, and Flip was just finishing up the last of the leftovers. He’d eaten it most nights for dinner, the Tupperware slowly leaving its shelf in the fridge for the sink once emptied of its contents. He figured he should bring the last of it for lunch though, and so he stood in the break room at work on his lunch break, heating up the meal in the microwave as his coworkers moved around him. Most were at their desks, but some lingered in the room waiting for the coffee pot to finish brewing the latest pot. 
"Nice Tupperware Zimmerman," His partner, Jimmy, teased as pointed to the pink plastic lid. "Did you buy that yourself? Taking a break from plaid?"  
"I borrowed it actually, your wife's been taking good care of me while you've been working late," He was used to having his coworkers shit talk one another, himself included. Jimmy just brushed it off with a chuckle.
"So you're seeing someone then? Does she know she's not getting her Tupperware back?" He asked.
"Oh, I think she will be,"
"You know that means you gotta see her again, right?"
"Yeah, that is generally how that works," He rolled his eyes.
"Flip Zimmerman, are you telling me you're dating someone?" The corners of Jimmy’s mouth turned up into a shit-eating grin as he spoke.
Flip shrugged his shoulders in response, willing the microwave to hurry up so he can leave.
"It's about time you joined the rest of us, can't be a bachelor for forever," He slapped his shoulder and walked out of the room, whistling a David Bowie song as he went.
He'd been the resident bachelor of the office for a while now, most of his coworkers were married and having kids, or already divorced. He'd listen to them complain about their lives and how hard it was sometimes and joke about trading places with Flip.
He shrugged it off, being married didn't sound to bad. It was way too early to think about anything like that with Elle though. And she said she was a feminist, did she even want to get married? He walked back to his desk and began to eat the last of the leftovers, trying to push any thoughts of matrimony out of his mind. It became increasingly hard though after eating a few bites, the leftovers tasted just as good as the first night. His mom always told him to find someone who could cook.
-----
Flip wasn't thrilled about having stakeout duty that night. It was sprung on him earlier that day by Chief Bridges, much to his displeasure. He attempted to call Elle at home, let her know he wouldn't be able to break fast with her for Yom Kippur like they planned. He gave up after about ten rings, she didn't seem to be in a hurry to pick up. He tried to recall if this was a holiday where she wasn't supposed to be using a phone, but couldn't remember. He'd make it up to her that night, bring her takeout or something. If he got off at a reasonable hour.
He and his partner were going to be helping a rookie infiltrate a rally, which was pretty slow work compared to the last few cases he was on. But at least he wouldn't be the one having to physically be in the action, he could listen from the comfort of his car, monitoring what came through the wire.
The rookie, Ron, had been working in the records room up until that day. He was the first, and only, black cop in the whole city. He admired the guy for that, but he was still pretty green to be out working on the street. But seeing as the rally was being led by a former black panther it's not like they had a ton of options in undercover officers.
He and Jimmy sat in his car across the street, listening to Ron flirt with a girl outside the venue. They shared a look of mild annoyance, hoping he wouldn't forget what he was there for. Thankfully, when it was time to listen he got every word of the speech on tape.
It was a powerful speech, he could admit it to himself. He didn't really get everything that was being said, but there was a lot of charisma and force behind the words. Once the speaker started mentioning the crowd should arm themselves against police, he felt a little funny. He didn't want to think he was a bad guy for his profession. Sure he'd seen other cops do bad things, even cops in his own precinct, but he didn't think everyone should be punished for it. He thought about it on the drive back to the station, but kept it to himself.
After debriefing the chief, he could finally head home for the evening. Luckily, he was out the door by 10:30, early enough that Elle would probably still be awake. He drove the route to her place, stopping at his favorite Chinese place to pick up some egg rolls and fried rice. He placed it in the passenger seat, listening to the radio and enjoying a cig while he drove.
He parked in front of her apartment, circling around back to take the clean plastic tubs out of his trunk and stack it with the takeout bins. He looked up at her apartment window to see it dark. He frowned to himself and extinguished his cig on the pavement. Surely she wasn't asleep already, did she go out somewhere? Did she give up on him at sundown and go out to get her own food? A twinge of guilt ran through him at the possibility. Maybe he should have tried to call her again.
Just as he was about to retreat back to his car he heard his name being called from down the street. He turned to see Elle walking toward him, in uniform. Her hair was down and nurses' cap in hand.
"Hey Trouble," He called back.
"Hey Zimmerman," She greeted as she stopped in front of him. She looked dead on her feet.
"I thought you weren't supposed to work today?"
"I wasn't. But they were seriously short staffed, I had to go in to cover for people," She didn't sound too happy about it.
"How does that work though? You aren't supposed to work. Did you eat anything then?" He was suddenly alarmed that she could have been fasting on the job.
"I had some crackers once sundown hit, I didn't have time to run out and get food after. I just wanted to get home as fast as possible-" she started.
Her eyes began to widen in realization halfway through her sentence, she let out a gasp.
"I didn't call you to tell you! Oh shit I'm so sorry, were you waiting here the whole time?!"
"No, I was held back at work, I just got here. Come on, I have takeout, you need to get some food in you," He placed his hand on her lower back and they walked toward her building.
They made their way upstairs in silence. He watched as her feet fell heavily onto the steps of the staircase, seemingly out of pure exhaustion. He also noticed she wasn't wearing the nurses' uniform from the last time he saw her in work clothes. The dress had been replaced with a long shirt and a pair of white slacks. They looked good on her, and seemed far more practical than a dress.
She opened the door to her apartment and collapsed onto the couch in her living room, prying her shoes off her feet. Flip went to the kitchen to put the Tupperware down and called to her.
"You good with egg rolls and fried rice?" He asked.
"That sounds so perfect right now," She groaned. He could have sworn he heard her stomach growl as she spoke.
"You need to eat," He called back, opening the containers and fishing out some silverware from her drawers. "Don't worry about taking too much, you need it more than I do,"
"You're the best," she all but moaned. He tried to ignore how those words made him feel.
"So what happened today that you needed to go in?" He asked. 
He was met with an exasperated sigh before she began to speak,
"It's a long story. Somehow the scheduling got messed up. One of the secretaries was getting married and a bunch of the nurses are either bridesmaids or were invited and so there was basically no one there today. And that would have been fine but our patient intake was way up today, some early virus going around. I tried telling them that it was a holiday when they called but they just sounded so overwhelmed and I would have felt guilty for not coming in. It was chaotic today but we made it work. The fucking doctors were no help though."
"Remind me not to go to your hospital then," he smirked, bringing the takeout over to her.
She gratefully accepted, kissing him on the cheek as thanks as he sat next to her on the couch.
Unless you come in wearing my uniform you'll be fine. The issue was that I got in trouble for my uniform even though it's totally okay according to the employee handbook," she said between mouthfuls of eggroll.
"What? How'd that happen?"
"Well, I was looking over the dress code because I'm sick of trying to work in that damn dress and it says women can wear pants. So I went to the uniform station and spoke to the ladies to see if they had any extras laying around. And they told me they never had any to begin with! Which is crazy because if it's in the handbook we really should have it,”
“So I went to the store and bought my own pattern and fabric and made the uniform exactly to the specifications of the handbook. Using my own money, by the way, and I wore it to work today. The girls I worked with loved it, a few asked to borrow the patten, but then one of the doctors I work with told me it was inappropriate and he wouldn't work with me because the patients would find it distracting!"
"That's frustrating," he commented, taking a bit of his own egg roll.
"Oh, that's not even the end of it," she continued, holding up her index finger. "So I told him I was up to code and he couldn't say anything. And so he spent the rest of the day undermining me in front of the patients. Even when he was wrong! But it's not like I can correct him because patients always believe the doctors over us. And then I had to stay late for an emergency case. This guy was so drunk his blood might as well have been whiskey. So we revive him and once he comes to the first thing he does is grab my ass! And the fucking doctor says it my fault because of my uniform! So I'm working on a holiday, fucking starving the whole time, and I'm getting fucked over by my staff and groped! I’m not even supposed to be there!"
"That's fuckin’ shitty," he sympathized. 
She threw up her hands as if to say ‘don’t I fucking know it’ before going back to eating.
"So that was my day, how was yours?"
"Pretty calm, lots of paperwork," He said as he settled into the plush fabric of the couch. He wasn't about to share his work with her fully, most was classified anyway.
"Wanna trade? I'm sure you could figure out how IVs work," She teased.
"I could accidentally stick that doctor with a needle," He teased back.
"I don't think that'd go over well. He's been there for a long time, and doesn't seem to think any of the nurses can do their job. Even though we've had to correct his work more than a few times. He once prescribed a patient a dose that could've sent her into diabetic shock," She grumbled.
"You can do his job better, and in heels," He smiled, placing a hand on her thigh, "And you look better doing it too I bet,"
"You flatter me," She put her hand on top of his and gave it a squeeze. "That takeout was delicious by the way, I might have to keep you around just for that,"
"I'm not the best at cooking, but I do know the best takeout places around," He laughed.
"I can show you how to make some stuff, cooking isn't really that hard. Just takes some time,"
"I'd like that Elle," He said, letting her rest her head in his lap, her legs curling on the arm rest.
"So did you really just do paperwork today? Are you holding out on me with juicy police stories?" She asked, looking up at him with her big brown eyes.
"That's confidential," He smiled down at her.
"Ooh, so serious," She furrowed her brow before laughing. "I get it, don't worry,"
"I'm glad. You know there's gonna be stuff I'm not going to be able to talk about. Right?"
"Ten-four, Zimmerman," She saluted. "But you do look a little dazed. Like you're thinking about something. I'm here if you wanna talk ever,"
He was silent for a beat. He wanted to open up to her, but he didn't want to bring work home with him as well. He decided talking about the issue as if it was someone else's might work best.
"One of the guys in the office was around for the Charmichael rally tonight over on the other side of town. He'd heard his speech and a lot was aimed at overthrowing police officers and making threats against us. It all seemed a little dramatic," He said hesitantly.
"That sounds a little scary. Do you think they'd do that?" She asked, letting him thread his fingers through her hair absentmindedly.
"No. Maybe. I don't know. I don't think it sounded serious from what I heard, but hearing that a whole group of people want you dead isn't great,"
"I don't think everyone does. Not everyone in every movement is going to come from the same place. I mean, did Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X agree on how to achieve black liberation?" She reasoned.
"No. But it seems like this group was more for Malcolm X," 
"Doesn't mean everybody is. Look at women's lib. People can barely agree on anything. It's a wonder we get anything done at all,"
"Really?" He didn't know anything about that.
"Oh yeah. There are so many schools of thought and so many opinions it's hard to keep track. You get women who want to burn their bras and the congress building, and women who think we should be as appealing to men as much as possible to get stuff done, and everything in between,"
"Have you burned any bras recently?"
"Mmmm, not since college," she winked at him. Cheeky.
"But you all want the same thing, right? So why can't anyone agree?"
"I mean, it's hard to explain. We all want equality, yeah. But different people have different ideas of what that looks like. I'm sure it's the same with the black liberation movement. There were plenty of Afro American women who felt left out of the big organizations back in New York. And lesbians. Equality looks different for them than it does for just your average housewives. And ignoring that can divide people,"
"I suppose you're right," He started thinking about the station and the people who worked there. "We had exclusively white male officers until about a month ago. We have a rookie on the force now. A black man. Some of the officers haven’t been very welcoming,"
"He's probably having a hard time, huh? It's hard to be the different one. especially when you’re the only different one," She adjusted her head in his lap, making sure he didn’t pull his hand away from her hair. 
"I think he'll be okay, he's working hard. He'll fit in soon,"
"I hope so, but what does he think of all this? Does he know it won't always be this way for him? I can't imagine it's easy, especially with the officers giving him a hard time like you said,"
"I guess so. I've heard some comments about him from some officers. Some don't seem to think he should be there, that he's only there for diversity,"
"Is that true? Did he pass the same tests and standards that got you there? Or any other officer?"
"Yeah, and I didn't say I agreed with them," He felt the need to defend himself from her line of questioning.
"Did anyone ever give you shit about being Jewish? Can't imagine the department is overflowing with us,"
"It's not. And I don't really talk about it so I'm not sure if anyone really knows besides my partner. It doesn’t exactly come up in conversation," He explained. "Is it just you and your coworker at your job?"
"Yeep," She popped the p. "And people have been kind enough to mind their business here, but past jobs haven't been as gracious. And let me tell you, working in a place where you don't feel wanted sucks,"
"So what now then? The rookie might not enjoy being the rookie, what can be done?"
"Treat him like anyone else. You guys treat each other like brothers right? The force is a fraternity. So if someone's giving him shit, be a brother and stick up for him,"
"Maybe you should do some motivational speaking at the station," His lips held a faint smile.
"I'll hold a syringe when I do it, see if they jump higher than you did," She teased, cuddling closer to him. "And for the record, I think it's great that the CSPD is making an effort to be more diverse. Might eventually ease out some of the racism in this town,"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I just mean having an all white police force but a diverse civilian population is kinda strange isn't it? It's not exactly balanced,"
"The guys hired were hired because they were the best at the job," He defended.
"So the fact that you have your first black officer in 1972 is completely separate from the fact that the civil rights movement was less than a decade ago," Her eyebrow raised, clearly up for a debate.
"The police are there to protect citizens, were just doing our job,"
"Uh huh, that's what the police said in Germany too while upholding racist laws. Even before the war began, they openly discriminated against Jews. Did you know we weren't considered citizens after 1938? And before that, we couldn't open businesses or marry any goyim. Based on us being labeled as a different race. Just because something is a law doesn't mean it's just,"
"Yeah but that's Germany in Wold War II, everyone knows the Germans were awful-"
"Flip, listen. My parents gave up everything to get to America. They had to leave their family and friends, most of their possessions, and their almost all of their money, just to get out of a country that didn't even see them as human beings. They were harassed by police the whole way, and when they came to America it wasn't much different. They stopped speaking German because during the war people would call them traitors, they stopped speaking Yiddish in public so people would stop calling them dirty kikes. That lived in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city, a place where police would sometimes take hours to arrive after being called because no one wanted to go there. And honestly, after 30 years, not much has changed. Police can be racist, they're just people at the end of the day and people have their own agendas. Not to accost your job, but you have to realize that to some extent."
He thought about her words, contemplating all she had said. It's hard to think what you stand for could be wrong. There were people on the police force who had messed up, hurt people on the job, but the brotherhood did their best to protect their own. It's a hard job and they tried to assume the best of people in their ranks. He didn't know things like that had happened in Germany. Sure, he learned about the holocaust but no one in his family had been though it. His family came from Russia in the late 1800s, they'd been in America for generations at this point. He'd never bothered to ask why they moved here, now he wondered if there was an underlying problem that spurred it.
"I understand what you're saying," He said carefully, his hand stilling in her hair.
"That's all I need," She spoke softly, untangling his hand from her dark curls so she could hold it. "I don't hate your job, or your coworkers, or even police. But I think it's important to acknowledge that there is a certain type of power that comes with enforcing the law that can be abused,"
"No you're right. And this is very much just a job for me. I'm not looking to take any moral high ground with anything I do,"
"Does that mean I can punch that doctor without you arresting me?" She changed the conversation to a lighter note, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Hmmm I think that's a little out of my jurisdiction," His hand dragged down to her covered thigh, giving her a little squeeze. "I do like the pants though, for the record,"
"They're just better!" She exclaimed. "I don't have to worry about bending over or running. The dress is so impractical, I always thought so. Did I tell you I got kicked out of high school for a week for wearing pants?"
It never applied to him but he remembers always seeing girls wearing dresses and skirts to school, pants were strictly forbidden for girls. He smiled at the thought of Elle walking the streets of NYC in broad daylight after being sent home.
"What a little rule breaker. I really got myself a troublemaker huh?" He pulled her up so she could sit on his lap.
"But you love it," She mused, hands running over his shoulder holster as she straddled his lap.
"I do,"
It was her lips that met his this time, her hands tangling in his hair in a way that would undoubtedly give him a few cowlicks. That could be worried about later though. All thoughts melted from his mind as her fingers ran lightly across his scalp. He caught himself letting out a small sigh at the sensation. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been touched like that.
Her weight across his lap shifted as she eased her body closer to his, deepening the kiss. His hands found their way to rest at her waist. Her pants certainly made it easier for her to straddle him.
Her fingers found their way to the top button of his shirt, working it open as she planted kisses to his jaw. A few more buttons were released, her mouth dropping lower to pepper his neck and collarbone. He felt himself growing stiff in his jeans, the familiar headiness of lust taking over his brain.
Elle had felt him too, giving him a knowing smile as she ground down on his lap. His head tipped back until it landed on the wood paneling behind him and he let out a low groan. His hands dropped lower, cupping her ass through the tight fabric of her uniform before tugging the shirt up to find her fly.
He pulled her back into a kiss, working to pry open the buttons on the front of her uniform, her smooth skin revealing itself bit by bit to him. Finally, they were undone enough for him to tug the sleeves down her shoulders, her bra coming into full view. It was white, basic, practical. But it didn't really matter. She was gorgeous, and very encouraging. As she shrugged her shoulders to slip her uniform down, her breasts pressed together. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes and a small smile.
"Like what you see?"
"Very much," his voice reverberated in his chest as he spoke lowly. He drew his hands up her body before resting right under her bra.
"You could spend the night if you wanted," She rested a hand on the buckle of his belt, her palm pressed against his.
God, he wanted to say yes.  Here he was, this gorgeous woman sitting in his lap, hand on his belt, ready and willing. How could he say no?
But he knew he had to say no.
This was moving fast. Which he was used to, usually he wanted fast. To get the job done and then move on. But he wanted to take his time with her, he didn't want to wake up in the morning and know he might never see her again. He wanted to make that clear to her, without sounding like a sissy.
"Maybe another night, Elle," He murmured.
Her face fell slightly, before pulling herself together again. She cleared her throat and started to pull herself off his lap, clearly embarrassed. He stopped her before she could move away.
"I'm not used to this," He admitted. 
She waited for him to continue.
"Lets say I've had a lot of first dates, but they never make it passed the next morning," He tries to explain. "It's been a while for me, since I wanted to stick around past breakfast. And I do. Want to stick around with you, I mean. If you want me to,"
She gave him a half smile before giving him a gentle kiss. She rested her forehead on his, their noses bumping together.
"I'd like if you stuck around. We can take it slow if you want, just have a couple dates, hang out. I won't rush it. To tell the truth, i usually am too exhausted to do anything but sleep when I come home anyway,"
He chuckled, helping her shrug her uniform back up her shoulders, her bra being concealed once more as she buttoned herself up.
"I'm the same way. We have demanding jobs. But I'm willing to see if we can work this out if you are,"
"I am," She remained seated in his lap, hands running across the leather straps of his holster. “More than willing, if that’s not too forward,”
“You’re straddling my lap and I just got to second base with you, I think we’re past forward,” He smirked. 
A laugh bubbled up from her throat, the genuine sound of it making him laugh too. 
“Point taken,” She got up from his lap and walked across the room to throw out the empty takeout containers. 
He figured he should head back soon, they both had a long day and could use some rest. His eyes flitted over to the clock, taking account of the time before his concentration was broken by her voice. 
“I know its late, but I think I’m gonna watch The Late Movie before I turn in. You’re welcome to stay. I’ll keep my hand to myself, I swear,” She put her hands up by her head before turning the dial on the television set. 
His mouth twisted into a half-smile. He could spare an extra hour or so, especially for her. He patted the spot next to him on the couch and she settled down next to him. He guided her head to rest on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist. She smiled up at him before turning to catch the beginning of the film. 
They sat in comfortable silence as the intro music began. Elle watched the movie intently, and Flip watched Elle. He couldn’t remember the last time he hung out with a girl after dark and it didn’t end in someones bedroom. It was definitely a change for him, but it was one he was welcome to.
---------------
NOTES
-Here’s what I imagined the Tupperware would look like. Big square containers with pink lids!
-Yom Kippur is the day of atonement after Rosh Hashanah. You are supposed to fast and reflect upon your wrong doings from the past year. This article explains things pretty simply. It would be, in fact, a day when Elle wouldn’t be answering her phone if she was home. Also, even though Elle is on the Reform end of Judaism and she’s far from her family and is separated from a community like she had back in NYC, she is still pretty determined to keep with tradition even if its just her in her tiny apartment. It’s fucked up that she felt she had to go in to work, but being part of a minority religion (especially in a predominately Christian place like Colorado Springs) can be trying. I know I’ve felt obligated to work a few holidays in the past (working on being more assertive about that at my present job).
-Nurse’s Uniforms: Pants for women was becoming much more acceptable in the 1970s workplace. Uniform pants would have just started to become a thing for nurses, and I’m sure people put up a fuss about it (because what else can be expected honestly). Let Elle wear pants! Also, getting kicked out of high school for wearing pants is inspired by this badass photo. Its from the 40′s, but women in the 60′s still couldn't wear pants to school in some places.
-Sexual harassment in the workplace (and everywhere else) was even more “normal” that it is today. The term “sexual harassment” was even credited with being invented until the mid-70s. It would be unlikely Elle would be taken seriously by any higher ups, a lot of women had to suck it up and deal with it (I absolutely do not endorse this, I advocate for shaming and making a scene if you feel comfortable with it).
-Goyim is plural for goy, which just means you’re not Jewish (and is not derogatory despite what dictionary.com has to say!)
-Elle was referring to the Nuremberg Laws in Germany when talking about her parents. They would have been subjected to a lot of laws as Jews living in Germany pre-WWII, and got out basically at the very last minute. Wikipedia explains the laws here. It’s honestly kind of weird writing a character in her position. You see a lot of literature about the actual holocaust with Jewish characters, but I didn’t find a lot of stuff about the next generation and how growing up in the 60s/70s/80s would be for them. If anyone has anything they’d like to share, I’d love to hear stories! I can only learn so much from my own family, and love to hear the experiences of others!
-I’ve said it before, but New York City in the 70s was a dumpster fire. Elle loves her city but it was really not a super safe place at the time.
-Flip’s family came in the late 1800s from Russia, meaning his family was probably escaping the Pogroms.
-The CBS Late Movie
-I really don’t think Flip would be too aware of racial situations before this KKK case. He has that quote where its ‘just a job’ to him. I don’t think he would take much consideration in to the issues people take with police, but I don’t think he would be closed off to listening to people talk about it. Also, let’s face it, the majority of people in the 1970s were still kinda homophobic. Even if he didn’t hate gay people (for my sake, were gonna say he’s fine with it) I think he’d still be susceptible to using offensive terms every once and a while, like sissy. 
Thanks for reading, I know this chapter isn’t super interesting. Gotta get that character building in there, and get Flip to consider his career and how other view it!
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hellyeahomeland · 5 years
Note
How about explaining all of the episode’s titles? Would you? Maybe one a day/week.
“Ok, here we go. This is only from memory and if any of this is wrong or contains typos please don’t @ me I didn’t edit! 
Season one:
“Pilot: twas the pilot! 
“Grace”: Brody prays at the end 
“Clean Skin”: I think this is because Nazir lets Brody take a bath
“Semper I”: it’s a play on “Semper Fi” which is short for “Semper Fidelis” which is a Marine motto which means “always faithful”
“Blind Spot”: Carrie thinks Brody uses the blind spot in the safe house to slip Hamid the razor blade plus her growing attraction for him is kind of her blind spot!! 
“The Good Soldier”: almost undoubtedly a reference to a novel about a love triangle between a woman and two soldiers
“The Weekend”: because it’s THE weekend, duh
“Achilles Heel”: Saul’s Achilles heel is that he always answers when work calls, Tom Walker’s is that he loves his wife and kids… Carrie’s is literally every aspect of her existence
“Crossfire”: Issa gets stuck in the crossfire
“Representative Brody”: it’s the episode where Brody decides to run for Congress lol
“The Vest”: Brody tries on a vest! 
“Marine One”: *FORGET ABOUT BEFORE, THIS IS NOW. I SAW THEM! WHO? BRODY… THEY HUSTLED IT RIGHT THROUGH THE METAL DIRECTORS ALONG WITH THE VICE PRESIDENT. DO YOU EVEN REALIZE WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. YES. HE’S PLANNING ON TAKING THEM ALL OUT. THAT IS WHAT’S COMING. WE’VE BEEN HEARING CHATTER FOR DAYS NOW, MARINE ONE, MARINE TWO. IT’S NOT THE PRESIDENT’S HELICOPTER. IT’S ACTUAL MARINES. BRODY. AND WALKER. THEY ARE MARINE ONE AND MARINE TWO THEY’RE WORKING TOGETHER THEY MUST BE.  **transcribed verbatim from memory
Season two: 
“The Smile”: CARRIE FUCKING SMILES FOR FUCKING ONCE
“Beirut Is Back”: I could have sworn that there was a tourism campaign for the city of Beirut and this was the slogan but now I can find no evidence of that online
“State of Independence”: idk if this is a reference to the Donna Summers song or just a reference to Carrie being on her own again
“New Car Smell”: Brody gets a car wash to get rid of the odor of tobacco and murder
“Q&A”: Carrie asks some questions
“A Gettysburg Address”: play on words with Abraham Lincoln’s speech and the fact that Quinn & Co. literally go to a physical address in Gettysburg
“The Clearing”: I think this has multiple meanings: Carrie meets Brody in the clearing in the woods, Dana clears her conscience, Brody attempts to clear his
“I’ll Fly Away”: a reference to the 90s TV show that Henry Bromell (and, hi! Barbara Hall!) both wrote on but a more literal reference to Brody being whisked away on a helicopter at the end (lmao s2 is wild)
“Two Hats”: so many people wearing hats in this episode!! 
“Broken Hearts”: lulz Walden’s breaks at the end 
“In Memoriam”: because Nazir dies (fact: this episode was originally titled “The Motherfucker in the Turban” but was changed last minute, thank god)
“The Choice”: Carrie must choose between red and white wine JUST KIDDING IS ANYONE STILL READING THIS???
Season three: 
“Tin Man Is Down”: someone says this during the weird Wizard of Oz op
“Uh… Oh… Aw”: phonetically it sounds like “fuck… you… saul” if you were drugged out on thorazine
“Tower of David”: Brody’s residence 
“Game On”: because it’s when Carrie and Saul’s spy-came-in-from-the-cold operation is revealed 
“The Yoga Play”: it’s Carrie’s very unoriginal name for an espionage scheme in which a lady with blonde hair attends a yoga class in her place
“Still Positive”: Carrie takes a 47th pregnancy test and is still positive #scarredforlife
“Gerontion”: ugh this is a poem I don’t know more go find Jacob Clifton’s TWoP recap
“A Red Wheelbarrow”: Carrie texts this to the Franklin man, it’s like spy code for “i’m the one answering this not some other dude” 
“One Last Thing”: Saul to Brody: “you will do this one last thing” (literally though!) 
“Good Night”: more spy code. I think it means “we’re fucked!”?
“Big Man in Tehran”: Brody becomes one of these when he denounces America for terrorism! (but only for show!)
“The Star”: probs dual meaning and allusion to the literal star Carrie draws and Damian Lewis’ stature on the show
Season four:
“The Drone Queen”: we stan one! 
“Trylon and Perisphere”: a reference to the two structures at the World’s Fair and I can’t remember where I read this but I think it’s a reference to Quinn and the Landlady which is 100% horrific and offensive 
“Shalwar Kameez”: this is the national dress of Pakistan but beyond that I got nothing
“Iron in the Fire”: Carrie says this about Aayan
“About a Boy”: think this is not a reference to the book/film but rather just to Carrie trying to figure out Aayan’s dealio
“From A to B and Back Again”: possibly a reference to the circular nature of the episode? They go from thinking they’ve got Haqqani to being back at square one by episode’s end 
“Redux”: Carrie hallucinates Brody
“Halfway to a Donut”: Duck says this about some pastry. Like 4.06, they think they’ve got Saul and end up back to zero (donut)
“There’s Something Else Going On”: well there was!! 
“13 Hours in Islamabad”: reference to the Benghazi attacks, which the episode basically lifts from directly and which also lasted ~13 hours
“Krieg Nicht Lieb”: Carrie meets a German spy woman! This means “war not love” (not perfectly translated), so an ironic take on “love not war”
“Long Time Coming”: Carrie and Quinn finally have sex!!!!!!! (just seeing if anyone is still reading this)
Season five: 
“Separation Anxiety”: I think this a meta reference to the time jump and also to Carrie’s anxieties about being out of the CIA but back in that world
“The Tradition of Hospitality”: I believe this is a reference to Carrie + Otto being guests at the UN refugee camp and how… un-hospitably that trip ends
“Super Powers”: Carrie believes she has super powers when she’s off her meds
“Why Is This Night Different”: these words at said at Passover seder, which starts out the episode 
“Better Call Saul”: horrifically embarrassing title that is a reference to Carrie calling Saul as well as the Breaking Bad spinoff starring Bob Odenkirk
“Parabiosis”: I honestly don’t know. It’s a scientific term and I haven’t rewatched those middle season five episodes since they aired and also don’t care to! 
“Oriole”: this was Carrie’s code name with one of her assets in Iraq
“All About Allison”: this episode centers on our Lord and Savior Allison Carr, Queen of Online Handbag Shopping! 
“The Litvinov Ruse”: I think this describes the trick they played on Allison thinking she was blown when she wasn’t 
“New Normal”: some military or CIA person says this about ISIS or Russia and Quinn being gassed 
“Our Man in Damascus”: this is the title of a book about a man who infiltrates a foreign government at the highest levels so I’m pretty sure it’s a reference to Allison 
“A False Glimmer”: lifted straight from Quinn’s letter! 
Season six: 
“Fair Game”: was surely sad by Keane or Dar or Saul or someone else about something (sorry, haven’t rewatched these episodes either)
“The Man in the Basement”: it’s where Quinn threw that mug at Carrie
“The Covenant”: believe this is a reference to the scene with Saul and his sister and Palestine/Israel
“A Flash of Light”: Etai says* this to Saul: “And the question I keep asking myself is this-- should we [the Jewish people] pack up and leave before it's too late? All eight million of us? Should we go back to the ghettos of Europe and Asia and wait for the next pogrom? Or just pray it doesn't happen here first, in a flash of light?” *not recited from memory
“Casus Belli”: apparently this was the actual name of meat face?? The phrase actually means a justification for war, so...
“The Return”: isn’t the episode where Javadi comes back?
“Imminent Risk”: Carrie is this to Franny and Quinn is this to.... himself?
“alt.truth”: I think this was someone’s sock puppet handle or website name or something? Idk it was about online trolls I think
“Sock Puppets”: Max finds ‘em! 
“The Flag House”: the house where meat face lives has a flag out front
“R is for Romeo”: there was an R on the white board at the flag house which I think meant eastern time?? It was spy code I can’t remember!! 
“America First”: term that used to mean non-interventionist policy but has been today co-opted by the American right to mean that we gotta put America ahead of all other interests (moral, humane, rational, etc.) because... AMERICA!!! Typically used to justify fascist policies
Season seven: 
“Enemy of the State”: Carrie’s power of bun have put her in the crosshairs (is anyone still reading this?) 
“Rebel Rebel”: I remember this being a play on words and it’s a verb, not a noun. Said by those gun crazies with Brett O’Keefe.
“Standoff”: Saul and O’Keefe
“Like Bad at Things”: definition for “incompetent.” Said by Carl, who deserves a Best Supporting Actor Emmy
“Active Measures”: term for actions taken by Russia to undermine America
“Species Jump”: another science term to describe the jumping of a pathogen from one host to another... I’m thinking this might be Carrie understanding who Dante really was but it’s a Chip Johannessen title so anything is possible
“Andante”: it’s how Carrie ends the episode! (that is a joke and it is 100% another meaning for the title but it also refers to a moderately slow tempo which is basically this episode’s structure until, y’know, the ending!) 
“Lies, Amplifiers, Fucking Twitter”: it’s one half of a haiku Carrie is writing 
“Useful Idiot”: see: picture of Carrie in a PowerPoint presentation
“Clarity”: Carrie gets it (kinda)
“All In”: what Carrie must convince Saul she is for the 650th time because Saul remains trash
“Paean to the People”: a reference to Keane’s speech
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odderancyart · 5 years
Text
Twistfell @itsladykit. The brothers will be showing up a lot more (though not in every story) but I don’t think I should tag Kit in every one, that’d basically be spam.
I’ll be posting all of these as one story to AO3 tomorrow (Christmas Day). These stories are based on my own Christmas traditions.
Forenoon
Christmas music filled the house as Twist bounced downstairs, grinning widely. The banisters were covered in glitter and fir twigs at his request. His brother had worried it was too much, but it never could be, Twist had assured him. Outside the windows he could see the sun shine on the blue sky, making the snow in their garden glitter. He was wearing the biggest Christmas sweater he had been able to find, much to Edge’s horror, since he’d been there when he bought it. Originally, he’d wanted another, but the suggestiveness would’ve made Blackberry uncomfortable, so he’d settled for the one saying Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal.
After throwing himself over the banister instead of walking the last few steps, he made his way into the kitchen. The kitchen table was filled to the brim with Christmas candy and even now the scent of newly baked filled the air. Twist fished up one of the kiwi Christmas trees his brother had made specifically for him, throwing it into his mouth as Berry smiled at him.
“Merry Christmas, bro!” Twist said, gesturing toward the dough the other was working on. “Arentcha done yet? You’ve been bakin’ fer a week.”
“You don’t need to say Merry Christmas every time you see me, you know,” Blackberry replied, amusement shining in his eyes. “And I just want to make sure we have enough! Everyone’s going to want some!”
Chuckling, Twist looked over the tons of cakes again. Yeah, true as that was, he really doubted anyone was going to be able to eat all of that. His brother could be just a tad overenthusiastic with his baking. But that only meant people could take home left-overs, so… He patted his brother’s head as he glanced at the clock. “Well, I’ve gotta go, so I can catch th’ bus!”
Blackberry sighed, rolling his eyes. “Honestly. Cash has a car. He can drive why is he making you come and get him.” Despite his complaints, he picked up a small box from the shelf above him and handed it to Twist. “If he refuses to come, bribe him. Or give him the chocolate cookie and carry him.”
“I ain’t poisoning Patches ta make him come ta Christmas dinner, bro.”
He shrugged. “Hurry up or you’ll miss the bus.”
Snickering, Twist grabbed the box and threw it into his dimensional box. He grabbed his jacket on the way out and pulled it on as he kicked the door closed behind him. Just as he stepped outside, the bus appeared at the corner, and the snow creaked beneath his shoes as he ran down the path. The air was cold and crisp against his bones, and vapor stood like a cloud around him whenever he breathed out. Like a dragon, he thought and chuckled.
When the bus stopped, and he stepped aboard, he found he was the only one on it except for an old lady in one of the disability seats, and the driver of course. It was the same human as always, with blond hair and pretty green eyes. They smiled at him when he stepped aboard and held out his bus card.
“Happy Holidays!” he greeted cheerfully. They were Jewish, he knew, which was probably why they had agreed on working on Christmas Eve.
“Merry Christmas,” they replied, “and a Happy New Year. Go sit down, you can travel for free today.”
“Thanks, darling, yer a treasure.” He saluted them lazily and they laughed before he went to sit down in the seat on the other side of the path, next to the lady. She watched him curiously as he smiled widely at her, waving once. “Happy Holidays, ma’am!”
“Thank you, dear. To you too,” the lady said, her voice croaky. Her hair was the purest white and hanging in a braid down her back, which was a contrast against her dark skin. She looked lovely, and she beamed when Twist told her so. They chatted during the trip, but soon the bus pulled in on the city’s finer streets and he pressed the STOP button. The bus station was three houses away from Cash’s. He waved to both the lady and the driver as he jumped off.
While he and his brother didn’t live in a bad part of town – he didn’t want Blackberry to have to do that again, didn’t want his brother to feel unsafe in their home – it was still nothing like this. City manors with enormous gardens filled with fountains and statues towered above him. Twist could feel the security cameras follow his movements as he made his way down the empty street, toward Cash’s home. It was one of the smaller manors, but a manor, nonetheless. Victorian style, very fancy.
He quickly put in the code that’d allowed him slip through the iron gate. It had taken one hell of a lot of time for the other to trust him with it, but now he had it. At least until Cash decided to change it again: he was certainly good at safety measures. Twist grinned as he closed the gate behind him. Energy rushed through his bones and he twitched before setting of in a run toward the building itself, grinning widely. The main entrance laid on a veranda, so he quickly climbed the little staircase before rapping thrice at the door and pressing the doorbell. Ding Dong, he heard from the inside.
Weighing on his feet, he waited, clasping his hands behind his back. It took a good couple minutes, and his teeth were chattering before he finally heard footsteps from the inside. The sound of three locks being unlocked came before the door finally slid open, revealing a grumpy-looking Cash. Twist lit up. “Patches! Merry Christmas!”
His boyfriend – and Twist still had a hard time wrapping his mind around that, that Cash was his boyfriend – didn’t look particularly Christmas-y. He was in his usual jeans and jacket, and raised an eyebrow at Twist’s glee. But the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, no matter how much he tried to hide his smile. “Merry Christmas, I suppose.” His attempt on sounding bored didn’t quite succeed.
Leaning down, Twist pressed a kiss to Cash’s cheek before throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Ya ain’t lookin’ like yer in th’ holiday cheer, precious.”
Cash scoffed. “Ya told me ta dress nicely fer lunch. An’ these clothes are worth more than anythin’ in yer wardrobe.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, grabbing Cash’s hand to pull him into the house. The door slammed shut behind them as Cash pulled it closed. “But it’s Christmas! Ya can’t look like ya do every day! C’mon, Patches, fer me?” He put on the biggest puppy eyes he could.
The gaze that met his was grumpy, but eventually, Cash sighed. “I can’t believe you’re making me dress up for them.”
Beaming, Twist took his face between his hands, tilting it up so he could kiss him for real. Before they parted, he murmured, “Then dress up fer me. Yer ridiculously attractive when ya do.”
A faint, purple blush lit up Cash’s cheeks. “I suppose that’s acceptable.”
“Great!” In that very moment, the city house tower began ringing. Eleven dongs echoed over the stone streets of the city. Jumping in place, Twist grabbed Cash’s hand, pulling him upstairs. “Hurry up then, love. Can’t be late fer lunch!”
A fond smile lit up Cash’s face as he obediently followed.
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luxlightly · 6 years
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chibineko24
replied to your post
“Something that bothers me but shouldn’t: kids are going to grow up...”
Why did you dislike it?
I disliked Tangled for a lot of reasons. 
I think the “main” reason is the songs. I don’t think I enjoyed a single song from that movie. “Mother Knows Best” was bearable, but not good. The rest were an absolute struggle to sit through. Songs are very important to me in musicals. If you can’t nail the songs, you just don’t have a good musical.  I can forgive a lot if the songs are good. And the songs in Tangled were crap. 
Secondly, the plot was bad. They really didn’t take ANYTHING from the original story except for “girl with long hair who is, at least at some point, in a tower”. Which, like, is fine to an extent because at least they didn’t have the audacity then to actually call it “Rapunzel”. Like, at least it was kind of trying to say “this is a different story”. But like...unless you at least include the part about her mother craving the food called “rapunzel”, then the name makes no sense and you just randomly have a girl named after what is essentially like...spinach or lettuce. The flower effecting her hair seemed dumb to me. Also like...why would that make it so you couldn’t cut it? Why is that a thing? And that her hair literally never grows back, even as brown, when it’s cut? Why? Why wouldn’t it not just then be normal hair? Also, why did the mother tell her that the lanterns were on her birthday? Why didn’t she tell her it was literally any other day? Why didn’t she come up with a lie about what they were for? There was a lot of dumb stuff like that (the frying pan gag, the ‘hair fu’. The horrible, horrible vikings or whoever they were in that tavern who sang the worst song in the movie and all were awful) but it wasn’t unforgivable in that way. Movie’s gotta have a way to move the plot along. I get that.
Another thing I disliked pretty strongly was the animal companions. I know a lot of people who are against animal companions as a rule, but I’m not generally that way. And I also understand that animal companions are going to be humanized to an extent to make them more relateable and likable.  But like...the animal companions in Tangled were too smart/human-like. Like...the horse could literally sword fight.  I hated everything about that horse, honestly. The chameleon was okay, but felt shoehorned into the movie just to have a “cute animal companion” with no relevance to the plot or....any remote explanation of what a generally African lizard was doing in a clearly European based country? Like, Pocahontas had a raccoon and a humming bird, because those live in North America. While tigers aren’t usually found in the desert, Jasmine had a tiger because she was a princess who had many exotic animals imported from other places. Pascal is sort of just...there? And does...nothing the whole movie except be creepily smart. 
The horse is probably one of my biggest gripes with the movie. It was just a terrible character. If they wanted another human character, they could have had another human character, if they wanted a dog, they could have added a dog, if they wanted a horse, they could have made it act in any way like a horse. Instead it was this way too smart, “trying way too hard to be funny and thus not being funny at all”, dog/person hybrid in the shape of a horse. Everything that horse did was dumb and not funny and he was way too big of a character. 
And honestly, even if you did want a super smart, super human-like animal companion, just go the full way and go like the mice in Cinderella or the animals in Princess and The Frog. Make them fully sentient characters who basically fill the role of a human character. Instead they got stuck deep in the uncanny valley. Too human to be a good animal, but human enough to be really unsettling and uncomfortable to watch.
Also, character design was crap. It just was. Rapunzel’s design is lazy, unoriginal, and uninspired. Big,light eyes, tiny nose, super skinny, pale skin, etc etc. Not to mention that she basically kicked off the like 10 different identical-looking Rapunzel clones Disney has churned out since then. Nothing about her design was interesting at all. Eugene was ok. But pretty boring, too. The only character who was in any way interestingly designed was the villain and the things that made them interesting were specifically there to code them as a villain. 
Like, mother Gothel’s kinky, black hair, bigger, hooked nose, high cheekbones. All of that was supposed to show that she’s the villain.  And that’s not even getting into the fact that most of those are stereotypes of jewish features. There’s a reason people compare her so often to Idina Menzel and Lisa Edelstein:
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The romance was forced, as most are. The two characters seemed to have no chemistry besides “girl and boy”. Like, girl, he’s literally the first man you’ve EVER MET. Literally the first person you’ve ever met besides your mom. Take some time to know yourself before throwing yourself into a relationship! But again, that’s most movies for you. 
And maybe the worst thing (besides the songs. Those were just.....so soo bad) is that the movie COULD have done something with itself. There was the potential for some really great stuff. Like, this is the first Disney movie where we see and abusive parent that says things like “I love you” and really acts like she cares about her child. Her manipulation and abuse is emotional and mental for the most part. And for one scene it really feels like they’re going to do something with it. When Rapunzel first gets out and basically has a panic attack that she’s hurting her mother and how she’s a horrible daughter and being so conflicted about leaving because of the poison that Mother Gothel has filled her head with, that really seemed like they could do some great stuff with it. She’s been raised her whole life to see literally everyone in the world besides her mother as a bloodthirsty literal monster (she checks Eugene for horns and fangs) who is only interested in hurting her. But they don’t DO anything with that. We could have seen someone from an abusive background slowly learn to trust others, while still clearly dealing with their own damage. Instead we get 5 seconds of her being afraid/conflicted, then it’s basically never brought up again and, even though she has never had any human contact besides her mother, be completely competent and comfortable in social situations. 
Also the whole “abusive parent” thing that was really the only redeeming thing this movie had going for it was pretty much negated by the fact that she was kidnapped. It’s again reinforcing the idea that your “real” parents would never hurt you. You have to love your “real” parents.  It’s only step parents or adoptive parents that could be abusive. Which is such garbage. And then, the second that Rapunzel learns that Mother Gothel is not her biological mother, she basically doesn’t care about her at all. There’s no lingering affection or confliction about killing her. I’m not saying like “oh well she raised her so she had to like her”. Not at all. But like...she raised her basically to be obsessed with her. That she was the only good person. That she was the only one who loved her or would ever love her. Yet the second that Rapunzel learns that she’s not her “real” mom, she just discards all of that in a second with no like, emotional conflict or anything vaguely interesting. 
So, tl;dr: 
Songs were bad.
Characters were bad.
Character design was boring at best, offensive at worst.
Story was bland and boring despite having the potential to be much better.
Also, songs were just...so bad. Like...SO bad. 
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gynandromorph · 6 years
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laurellynnleake replied to your post: reviewer: strangely, there was one character, a...
ohh my gosh, I was just thinking about asking you if you ever read that arc of Blacksad (re: harmful depiction of race in furry comics)! I think I know the review you’re referencing too? Somehow I never picked up on Weekly being coded as Jewish, yeesh, gotta pay better attention -___-
you could argue that maybe weekly is coded as idk, east asian or roma because these also have some strong “sneaky predator” stereotypes attached but idk the fact that controlling the media and being dirty are both jewish stereotypes as well as men being Weak (”weak"ly for fucks sake lmao). he is partially brown in addition to being white but lesser weasels shift from brown to completely white seasonally and the whole... “race traitorism” thing is also a prevalent concept thrown at jewish people. but yeah i’d just appreciate if white critics would tread a little more... thoughtfully about that so paying attention is a nice response
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