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chainofclovers · 3 years

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Ted Lasso 2x6 thoughts

I felt like the physical embodiment of a series of iconic reaction GIFs while watching this episode. I felt like Higgins gagging on air and right and wrong choices. As an invested, non-casual Ted Lasso viewer, I feel quite absorbed in the experience of every episode, but I’m not usually a LOUD non-casual Ted Lasso viewer. At one point last night, I shouted “This is the wackiest show ever made!” at @bristler, and that doesn’t even sound like something I would say. And by “wacky” I just meant “all the emotions are happening at once.”

This episode was absolutely great and I knew that every single Rebecca Welton feeling I have would intensify because of this episode and that is exactly what happened.

This is me bravely writing down my episode thoughts after only one viewing (just like last week) and a bad night of sleep! Copious spoilers and emotions ahead...

This show goes all in on hats! A lot of bad hats for giving bad relationship advice and making bad decisions! Feel like you’re gonna do something correctly? Just put on a bad hat, that’ll snap you right out of it. Just had a revelation that you are almost certainly in an abusive relationship? Your girlfriend is hiding in the parking lot with a terrible hat for you! (I love this show.)

Dark forest dark forest dark forest dark forest.

I truly, truly, truly do not mean this to sound judgmental of any other fan, but it’s taking everything in my power not to just type “dark forest” in the comments of every person who is outraged that LDN152 is not Ted.

Gonna get my initial thoughts on the Sam=LDN152 reveal out of the way. I honestly like this choice.

First, I like this choice because of who LDN152 isn’t. I think about how awful it would be if she’d matched with Rupert and realized she’d been manipulated by him and charmed by him all over again, and how, when she gets the same reveal the audience already has, she would end up retraumatized by having been charmed and taken in by Rupert all over again. I think about her matching with Nate (if he’d redownloaded the app) and the inadequacy of her assertiveness advice and how Nate is one of the only non-Rupert characters who’s used sexist language against her and how Nate’s insecurities would be like water trying to co-exist with the oil of Rebecca’s insecurities. Nate and Rebecca are fond of each other and seem to want to be in each other’s lives, but a romantic squishing together via dating app would set them both back lightyears. I think about her matching with Ted, a man currently on a parallel-to-Rebecca trek through a very painfully dark forest, a man swinging wildly between performative attempted wit and utter panic. A man she trusts with her professional and personal challenges. [Her challenging mother comes to town and Keeley and Ted are the people she wants with her at lunch.] Ted and Rebecca, with all their current limitations, and with all the ways the forest obscures the view, are trying to be there for each other in their real, non-romantic comedy versions of their lives, and the discomfort of matching on an app seems like the kind of thing that would make them rear back from each other instead of bringing them even closer together. It is not time. It is so profoundly not time that I would have been furious if the writers had continued the “maybe it’s Ted?” line of thought for another second longer than they did.

Second, I like this choice because of who Sam is. I know. He’s not an appropriate match for her. The power dynamics are all messed up and their ages are all wrong. But this does introduce a potentially interesting parallel between Rupert and his younger women and the scrutiny Rebecca would risk herself and Sam experiencing if she goes for it. Rebecca seems to have tried to put away her Rupert-related trauma, but the specter of Rupert is lurking, and I do see that being a good person making an ethically complicated decision with another good person is very different from being an abuser setting out to take advantage of multiple people...but there are parallels she might have to reckon with. Also, Sam is a kind person with a strong ethical center and a well-documented interest in Rebecca. He and Ted helped each other feel more at home in London during a time of deeply missing other homes, and Sam has internalized a lot of Ted’s ways of living in a way that might genuinely appeal to Rebecca even if she doesn’t fully realize why. The writers on this show don’t write messes for the sake of drama. They write messes because life is painful and complicated and also very funny. I’d be shocked if, however this Bantr thing plays out, it isn’t painful and complicated and also funny.

(I am already a little worried that whatever happens next is going to activate some very ironic fan reactions given this is a show whose thesis statement is about withholding judgment. This fear is based not on Ted Lasso-specific knowledge but on unfortunate patterns of fandom, but...you can fear the impact of racist, sexist, and ageist tropes on two beloved characters without embodying those tropes as a viewer. You can watch characters make decisions that could subject them to harmful scrutiny without performing that harm yourself.)

Ted Lasso is a fictional character who tweeted about the joy of eating out (you know...at the Crown and Anchor) the day before 2x6 launched and during 2x6 Rebecca invited him to eat out at the Crown and Anchor. (I love this show.) I am so, so, so fond of all the little lunch-y things in this episode. Ted can’t bring Henry his lunch because he’s “at work” aka living in London. Ted and Beard surprise each other with secret sandwiches on Fridays. Rebecca is overwhelmed by her mother’s visit (her mother’s performance of a harmful pattern) and wants Keeley and Ted there. The scene at the Crown and Anchor, as painful as all the divorce/separation feelings were, was also so homey and lovely in terms of these characters being friends, being at home in a place despite the very not-at-home feelings emanating from Deborah. The Bake-Off viewing! Ted being the designated driver (probably a good thing on this particular day)! Rebecca feeling discomfort but not shutting down! Also cute British pub feelings. Evidence that Rebecca has talked to her mom about Ted! About personal things about Ted!

Naaaaaaate. His bursts of confidence and insight. The pain and insecurity and anger almost literally bubbling under the surface.

I cannot say enough good things about Higgins. He’s grown so much, and his decision to be honest with Beard regarding his concerns about Jane was absolutely impeccably done. Many, many trusted people in Higgins’ life told him not to do it. They are all good people, and they were all wrong. Sometimes one human being’s honesty makes the difference for someone who is struggling, and that’s exactly what happened here. Beard truly heard Higgins. And of course he didn’t immediately break things off with Jane. But he heard Higgins, and when Jane showed up Beard’s face looked different than it ever has, and Higgins words are with him as he walks off into the night with Jane and that might save him. And Rebecca witnessed it.

And I’m so glad she witnessed Higgins’ choice in the midst of this very difficult experience of a) trying to find Ted because she knows he’s in pain and being unable to and b) watching her mother repeat a pattern that Rebecca herself was able to break. It taught me so much about Rebecca. The way she was punished (and described the experience using the language of punishment) for having an honest reaction to her mother’s decision to leave her father the first time. The way she was taught that love is conditional, that love and reconciliation are things you can purchase with gifts. The way her mother uses the language of self-help without internalizing what it would take to heal, and probably has little use for actual therapy. The way her mother drinks alcohol as a way to feel free.

I don’t even know how to think, much less write, about everything with Roy’s coaching and his image and how Ted feels about it and all the fatherhood things Jamie brings up and all the fatherhood things Ted is missing w/r/t Nate and everyone except for Rebecca taking at face value (or willfully deciding to take at face value) the idea that Ted’s panic attack is actually just him needing to go barf up a fish pie. Ted hugging his backpack in Sharon’s office. Rebecca trying to find him, and Sharon being the one who does. The words “I wanna make an appointment” being the words that conclude the episode at the exact midpoint of the planned-for show. Halfway through the middle season. The moment Ted realizes he’s never going to be okay if he doesn’t give therapy a try.

I also can’t say enough good things about the moment with the team and Sharon, the way she agrees to one drink, the way it’s clear that she adores them all. Sharon is exacting and professional without being cold and calculating, and everything she does in this episode is such a gorgeous model of assertiveness, patience, and moderation...three things Ted struggles with the most.

What a dark forest. What an excellent group of humans.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #ted lasso 2x6 #meta by me #a lesbian watches ted lasso

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masterthespianduchovny · 3 years

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The counter argument to people being against Sam/Rebecca for legitimate reasons are claims that Sam is being “infantilized.”

These age gap conversations in general are difficult to have because one side won’t acknowledge that just because two people are adults doesn’t mean they are in the same place emotionally and mentally. And this is a very important thing to note.

Someone being 18, a legal adult in America (I think you can date adults at 16 in the UK), doesn’t mean they are able to date a significantly older person, say 38, without a problem. Because, more times than not, which is an understatement, there’s a lot of fucking problems in an age gap relationship even if the older person isn’t dating the younger for nefarious reasons.

It is not infantilizing Sam or any young adult to say, “hey, this relationship may be detrimental to them because of their age.” That is just…facts.

Many people on tumblr and other SM sites often talk about how they still feel like kids at 22 and are still figuring life at, despite having jobs, kids, and shit. Despite being in full blown relationships, these young adults don’t feel like adults and that’s because you aren’t magically mature just because you’ve reached an arbitrary age to be declared a legal adult.

You just aren’t.

And being mature in one aspect of your life or regarding emotional development doesn’t mean you’re mature in other aspects. At 17, I was mature enough to understand this.

Because maturity isn’t just something you obtain like your degree or license, it’s an ongoing, ever evolving thing.

It’s life experience. As in how you learn and grow from it.

Acknowledging that someone doesn’t have significant life experience isn’t infantilizing them, it’s giving an important perspective to a crowd of who is essentially arguing “age ain’t nothing, but a number.”

If you’re all for an 18 year old dating a 38 year old, why not a 16 year old and a 36 year. It’s only a two year difference, right? And what if that 16 year old is really mature? Most would have an issue with that. People are justifying a significantly older person dating a younger person due to legality and not they are actually mature and on the same level. But there’s not much difference between a 16 and 18 year old or an 18 year old and a 20 year old. But guess what, there is a significant difference between people between the ages of 18-22 dating people a decade or more.

I literally just turned 30 last week and, even when I was 25, after a while I could tell when I was speaking to a teen or someone in their early 20s. Because, whether or not you get along with them, there are just some things that, because they haven’t had enough life experience, they don’t have the nuance or perspective to engage with you a certain way and this is even on a non romantic level.

And, in some cases, the younger person is more “mature” not because they’re actually that mature, but because the older person is that immature.

So before I get into the issues with Sam and Rebecca, let me give you four examples of age gaps relationships:

1. A friend of mine dating an older man when she was 23 and he was 38. She was a manager at a gym and he was a gym member. They would have sex and hang out, but she wanted commitment. Whenever she asked him about it, he’d get weird on her. After finally breaking it off months later, he “loved” her and finally wanted commitment, but she’d moved on. While she dated him, I told her my two cents on the situation and left it alone. Last month, she recalled this conversation as she groaned in displeasure hearing about an age gap relationship. She’s now skeptical of older people dating significantly younger people.

2. A friend of mine was 18 dating a 28 year old. We all worked at a pizzeria. He watched her on the cameras from the back when he became a manager—got mad if she talked to male coworkers. Used to gaslight her, controlled her via manipulation, and other gross toxic shit. After emotionally tormenting her for a year or so and pressuring her to live with him, which her parents allowed due to some issues they didn’t want to exacerbate, he cheated on her. They’re broken up now. She was always stressed out while with him.

3. A girl got into her first and only relationship when she was 19 with a man who was 32. They’re now married 23 and 36. She wants to wait to have kids and on her birthday he gifted her baby clothes. Make of that what you will.

4. A girl, 22, dated her 37 year old professor. At 28, she feels like she’s outgrown him and is disturbed about how and when they got together. And one night she heard him advise his friends to date younger girls so they can mold them. Yeah…

Sure you have marriages that have age gaps that lasted, but even then, very few of those are actually healthy. The younger person is usually taking orders from the older partner, can’t do certain things, doesn’t have any true agency, skills to survive on their own, etc. What typically happens is after that person becomes older, they begin to question their relationship because what seemed okay when they were younger, is unsettling after becoming older.

Like I said, take out the nefarious shit, and there is still a significant life experience gulf between Sam and Rebecca and that is one of the many issues with this pairing. Despite what some romantics and media loves to say, “love does not conquer all.” Most of the marriages that end in divorce isn’t because they couple fell out of love, it’s due to finances. Love couldn’t conquer that. Some marriages end because one of them changed or they could’ve overcome their vast differences.

I’m not saying Sam and Rebecca are on a path for marriage or are even in love, they aren’t, however, they idea that just because they get along and have some things in common means it would be a great relationship is very shortsighted. There isn’t even enough significant interaction to prove this. Getting along on an app isn’t the same as connecting face to face. And none of this can overcome Rebecca’s life experience and, relatively speaking, Sam’s lack thereof.

And I’d argue that, on average, athletes tend to be immature because they live in such a bubble where people constantly kiss their ass. Which makes Sam look more mature than he probably is.

Even then, being with an older person ages you. This younger person misses out on so much, many of which they regret, because they’re trying to be mature enough for their older partner. They don’t want to seen as immature for doing young shit when that’s exactly their age range.

But let’s get into the real consequences for Sam here:

1. Sam has to keep his relationship a secret. The media will tear him up about dating/fucking the owner of the team. And so will fans. People love to mention he’s being infantilized because he’s young and black, how do you think that is going to go if anyone finds out about them? Racism, baby. He won’t suffer from sexism, however, they will question his place on the team and if he deserves to be there. This will taint him and even cause issues with his parents. So secret relationship it is.

2. If his teammates found out, this will fracture his relationship with them. Whether or not it’s true, Sam will be blamed for shit outside of his control. They’ll think he only got more playing time, more pay, or whatever because he’s fucking Rebecca. OR they’ll try to ask him for favors and get upset if he won’t do it. His team will think he’s getting favoritism and believe there is a power imbalance between them and Sam as a result. Don’t believe me, Google dynamics once students realize a classmate is dating their teacher or an employee is dating their boss. It usually doesn’t go over so well.

So even if the relationship is loving and healthy, Sam will suffer from being with Rebecca. Because if it's a secret, it’s going to bother him eventually that they have to sneak around and the anxiety of being caught. If it’s out in the open, he will suffer harassment, alienation, his play will suffer because his teammates probably won’t pass to him, etc.

Which leads to, 3: transferring teams. But how is that fair? Sam is developing well under ted and now that may delay his development and stock just so he can be with Rebecca? We want this young, black man to succeed, but his career will be kneecapped due to his relationship. Sam is serious about football and this would be a major blow to him.

Like I said, take out nefarious shit and this relationship is still detrimental to Sam. And even with a healthy relationship, there will still be a disconnect that will lead to their relationship ending because they are in two vastly different places in their lives.

That is not infantilizing Sam, that’s reality.

And, again, that power imbalance is massive. We saw how easy it was for Rebecca to send Jamie back to Man City. She has so much power, control, and influence over Sam’s career and livelihood. She can dictate how much or how little they offer to pay him during contract negotiations.

And this is the ship people are getting upset at others rightfully taking issue with?

It doesn’t even make sense for Rebecca to go along with this either. She played a part in Keeley breaking up with Jamie, which age, Jamie being younger, played a key part in it. She’s even disgusted by Rupert dating a significantly younger woman. I doubt her opinion centered on maturity. She’s not going to suddenly support this relationship if she found out that Bex is super mature.

Rebecca would stand to lose a lot of she were to get involved with Sam and others found out. She’d get dragged through the mud worse than she did after her divorce. She’s lose them support of her staff. And it would fuck up the relationship she has with her players.

Now some Sam/Rebecca supporters have called bullshit on people who are against this relationship, yet support Ted and Rebecca. They claim it’s the same power imbalance or that one exists.

1. It’s not the same power imbalance.

2. Yes, one does exist, but it’s not nearly as wide as it is with Sam and it wouldn’t destroy her either.

Ted has the authority to hire and fire people. He has the authority to facilitate trades, call up people, and send them down. He has a lot of influence that Sam does not. They aren’t equals, but there also isn’t a massive power disparity either.

Rebecca also can’t completely fuck over Ted like she can Sam if she went all scorned woman. Because, doing so, would entail her own demise. Even if you don’t include that, Ted is only attached to Richmond. He doesn’t care about having a career as a football coach in the ways coaches from non US countries do. He can go back and have a career as an American football coach and still be massively successful. Or, if Rebecca did want to fuck him over, he has that bomb as to why he was hired. Ted doesn’t even have to play that card for it to be played by either Higgins or Keeley.

Because one of them will if they feel it’s necessary.

We have no clue what’s going to happen with this storyline. But the idea that people against Sam and Rebecca being a thing, romantically or sexually, being fueled by racism or sexism is misguided, hypocritical, and flat out wrong. If this entanglement is pursued, it stands to harm Sam from various angles and that’s MY objection.

People think this is all about Ted/Rebecca when, personally, I’d lose (some) respect for Rebecca if she got involved with Sam. That would taint her for me. Because let’s be real, many of us are grossed out by Rupert dating, marrying, and then impregnating Bex. Yet, some are okay with Rebecca and Sam getting together and those who are against it are sexist? And I truly believe the same people supporting this ship are also grossed out by Rupert’s relationship.

How is Rupert’s relationship gross, but we shouldn’t obsess over age with Rebecca and Sam? People say Sam is mature enough to date Rebecca, which implies that Bex isn’t mature enough to be with Rupert and that IS sexist.

Even if the writers confirm tomorrow that Ted/Rebecca will never be a thing, I wouldn’t object any less to Sam/Rebecca. If Sam was Roy’s age and in Roy’s position, I’d have way less of an issue.

But you’re going to have a tough time convincing me that a young man who is 20/21 and employed by a 47 year woman who can heavily influence his career isn’t a massive power imbalance that shouldn’t be explored by fans.

I’m really curious to see how this post ages once the storyline plays out. But this post is about exploring what it means for Sam and Rebecca to get involved and how the accusations of infantilizing Sam doesn’t pass the sniff test.

#rebecca welton #sam obisanya #ted lasso

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starry-sky-stuff · 3 years

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WIP Update

I have officially reached 30,000 words for my wip In Want of a Wife. Yay!!! I’m so proud to have gotten this far. I now have three fully complete chapters (and many incomplete chapters).

In celebration I am posting a snippet from chapter 3. Enjoy.

717 words

Taglist:

@thelaughingstag, @writing-with-l

Cut for length

“Even if that may be so, a woman must have regard for the husband they choose,” Cecily said. “A husband is a women’s gateway to society. Her pathway to status, to financial security, to children and a family. Choose poorly, and she could find the doors of society closed to her, her finances drained, her children taken from her.”

“A married woman’s property remains her own nowadays,” Laurence pointed out.

“Yes, but you will find very few women with enough property to live comfortably off. Most women are still reliant on the income their husband’s are willing to give them.”

The others were all looking at her now. Her cheeks were burning and it was all she could do to stop herself from shrinking away.

“Well said, Cecily,” Rupert commended.

“Maybe you should send her to speak to parliament on your behalf, Pemberton,” Matthew suggested.

Cecily eyed the Duke. Her mother would not be impressed if she scared him away with radical politics. Although, Cecily found nothing she’d said to be particularly controversial. It was all the truth, after all, but many did not wish to hear the truth.

“I have no doubt that Miss Montgomery would be very persuasive,” he commented. “It is unlikely they would listen to her, on account of her gender, but that would not make her points any less well-argued.”

It was the first compliment she had received that night that was actually flattering and not just hollow praise.

The conversation moved on, this time with more input from the Duke. He was a rather quiet man but his comments were always measured and intelligent. He appeared at least to regard her own intelligence highly and had not cut her down in public. Respectful, reasonable, responsible. She could certainly do worse in a husband.

Cecily’s gaze flickered sideways to find Laurence watching her with a strange intensity.

“Yes?” she asked.

Laurence shook his head slightly. “What?”

“You were staring.”

“Was I? Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere.”

“Where?’

“Huh?”

Cecily rolled her eyes impatiently. “If your mind was elsewhere, where was it?”

“Gloucestershire,” he admitted. “I was thinking about our dancing lessons. And of my poor bruised toes.”

“You deserved it every time I stepped on your feet.”

“And yet you were perfectly adept tonight,” he pointed out. “Have you improved greatly?”

“I’ve improved in many ways but not dancing. I was always well-versed in the steps.”

“Ah, so it was payback then?”

“You must admit, it was not unprovoked.”

“Provoked?” he asked aghast. “When have I ever been provoking?”

“You are a walking, talking provocation.”

Laurence dramatically raised a hand to his chest, his mouth hanging open in mock horror. “My lady, you wound me. I am as pacifying as a monk.”

A laugh escaped from her lips. Not the polite laugh of the drawing room but a full-bodied laugh. Her laugh had always been too loud for her liking, but it had never ceased to amuse Laurence. Cecily raised her hand to her mouth almost as if to trap the laugh.

Laurence frowned. “Why do you do that?”

“I have a terrible laugh.”

“You have a wonderful laugh,” he protested. “If I was courting you, I would profess that your laugh is my favourite sound in the world.”

Cecily raised an eyebrow. “Then aren’t we glad there’s no need for such falsities.”

For a second, Laurence’s expression faltered before it was quickly replaced with his usual jovial grin.

“You do look very beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you.” Cecily nodded her head slightly.

Laurence’s eyebrows pinched together. “And that was a good argument,” he quickly added. “But you’ve always been good at arguing.”

“Much to my mother’s disappointment.” Cecily picked up her glass and sipped at it.

Laurence shrugged. “Your mother’s not always right.”

Then, he turned to his other side to draw Matthew into conversation, leaving Cecily to ponder on the peculiarity of his behaviour. He had always teased her but his seemingly genuine attempts to compliment her were as baffling as they were inept. Ordinarily, he was suave and charming, always knowing exactly what to say. It had aggravated Cecily to no end how easily he put others at ease, a talent she had never managed to acquire. She didn’t put people at ease, she put them on edge.

#my writing #my wips: in want of a wife #oc: cecily montgomery #oc: laurence fairchild

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cloudcover23 · 4 years

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A super rough-draft excerpt from my angsty Percy Jr/Rupert wip

(Background: Percy and Rupert are both 13 years old)

(This is rated G but the final story will be rated T)

(This whole undertaking was inspired by @callmefitz‘s post about Rupert and Percy being in love before Rupert ran off to the forest.)

He cautiously crept into the Library through a back door.

Percy was mad at his dad and wanted to do something reckless, something he knew was against the rules. He knew his dad would be snide and condescending if he knew his son was going to the library, evidently to read. Knew he would be downright angry if he knew Percy was actually going to see Rupert. And just what WAS he doing here anyway? Why did Rupert haunt him? What was it about him that made Percy want to know more, to get closer?

The library was warm and comforting, despite the storm raging outside. He crept around the stacks of books and quickly found Rupert sitting at a table as usual. Percy hid himself behind a bookshelf. This was stupid. Why had he come here?

There was a bright flash of lightning and thunder boomed outside. The noise was so loud and intense that it rattled the windows. Percy let out a shriek and fell to the floor, protecting his head with his arms. As he lay there in a heap, breathing hard, waiting for another strike or at the very least harsh words, he felt something cold and wet nudge the back of his hand. He looked up to see the face of Rupert’s lanky puppy. As soon as it was exposed, the dog promptly proceeded to lick Percy’s face eagerly.

“Uhg! Get off!” Percy sat up, wiping away the slobber and trying to push the dog away.

However, undeterred by Percy’s disapproval the dog sat itself down in Percy’s lap and panted happily.

Percy tentatively pet his furry back. He was soft and warm and heavy against him. He felt good. Percy sighed and started to relax.

“He’s good at that isn’t he?”

Percy startled and looked up to find Rupert himself sitting on the floor across from him, smiling gently. Percy panicked; this was not how he wanted Rupert to find him! This was not how he wanted anyone to see him!“

He’s good at helping when you’re feeling scared.” Rupert added kindly.“

Oh, scared? Me? Haha! Oh, no I wasn’t scared.” Percy tried feebly to sound strong and sure of himself, but his voice squeaked. “I am a future knight, after all. And everyone knows that knights are brave.”

Rupert hummed in dubious agreement and looked out the window pensively. “Doesn’t being brave mean that you do something even when you’re feeling afraid?”

“Well, yah. Duh.”

“Then being brave doesn’t mean you don’t feel scared! It just means that you keep going even when you are scared.”

Percy shook the panic-cobwebs out of his head. “No no, that can’t be right. Being brave means that you’re… strong and… and fearless!”

Rupert turned back to Percy, a glint in his eye. “Fearless? Like not having any fear?”

“Uh, yah, that’s what I said.” Percy rolled his eyes.

“But if you were truly fearless, then I think you would also be a bit of an idiot.”

Percy gasped. “How dare you suggest--”

“No, hear me out! Say you’re a knight facing down a ferocious dragon.”

“Well, dragons don’t exist.” Maybe the other boys were right and the prince really was crazy.

“And the dragon is breathing fire everywhere,” Rupert continued undeterred, “and your fellow knights are being turned into ash around you.”

“Ooookay?”

“What does the knight who feels no fear do? Probably run head on towards the dragon. Right?”

“Yah, that sounds like what a brave, fearless knight should do.” Percy quipped.

“But what does it get him? He runs in, sword held high, probably yelling like a dunderhead. And the dragon immediately turns him into a puff of smoke.” Rupert blew on his fingers for added effect.

“Well, I’m sure that--”

“But what does the afraid knight do? He looks around at his fellow men-at-arms and sees what’s happening and says, ‘I don’t want that to be me!’”

“Sounds like a sissy who would run away and leave his kingdom at the mercy of a fire-breathing beast. Not very knightly if you ask me.” Percy sniffed.

“Ah, but that’s where the bravery comes in right? The afraid but BRAVE knight says ‘I don’t want that to be me, I’ll find another way’ and he doesn’t go screaming into the flame, he sees the failings of the others that went before him and comes up with a new solution.”

“Which is?”

“Well, I don’t know – dragons don’t exist.” Rupert smiled playfully. Percy huffed out a laugh despite himself. “Hmm.” He leaned back to think about it. “I bet he would sneak around the dragon and chop its tail off.

”Rupert relaxed back against the bookshelf behind him as well. “Hah! And then what? Wait for it to bleed to death before it turns around flames you?”

“No way! It would be so distracted by the pain in its behind that I would have time to run around to the front and stab it in the heart of course! I’d like to hear how YOU would handle it Mr. Knows-Everything-About-Fighting-Imaginary-Dragons.”

“Well I bet while you were standing there laughing at me it was getting ready to chomp you!”

“No way! I already would have distracted the dragon with a giant tree branch, and then uhhh… climbed onto it’s back!”

“Ooh yes! And then stabbed it in the head?”

“No way! I would have ridden on the back of the beast! Off into the sunset!” Rupert gestured widely with his hands.

Percy erupted into laughter. “I can see it now! The brave knight riding on the back of the dragon that he has no control over at all, while it torches all the villages on it’s way to the castle.”

Rupert giggled. “Well, at least I would be having some fun before the entire kingdom went up in flames!”

Percy wiped a tear from his eye and sighed, still chuckling. “You would go down in history as the worst knight ever.”

Rupert’s laughter died and he looked off to the side. “Yah well. Probably would anyway.”

That’s right. Rupert had wanted to train as a knight but for whatever reason wasn’t allowed. It seemed to be a sore subject.

Rupert’s dog got up from where he had been resting in Percy’s lap and went to nudge his head into Rupert’s leg.

“Hey Fitzroy. Rupert smiled and pulled the dog close.”

“So… uh…” Percy felt awkward. He had killed the vibe on the most interesting and entertaining conversation he had ever had with another person. He knew they were both thinking of that day at the training yard. Percy longed to ask more about it, but felt that it would probably make things even more awkward. “So… your dog is named Fitzroy?”

Percy kicked himself. He had just told himself that he wasn’t going to mention it, and here he was bringing up the fake name that Rupert had used for himself that morning.

“Oh yah. Haha.” Rupert rubbed Fitzroy’s head making his ears flop around. He seemed somewhat cheered as he looked into the dog’s face. “I kind of froze out there you know! Didn’t know what else to tell him! I had thought as far as the disguise,” Rupert looked back over to Percy and tapped his eye, “but forgot that I would have to give them some sort of name! Although, I thought I didn’t do half bad under pressure – he let me in didn’t he?”

Percy snorted out a laugh. “Yah, I guess so.” He had no idea what he was doing. He wanted to know so much more about this boy. The Prince. He didn’t seem like a prince really, he seemed like a normal kid. A normal kid that sat here with him on the floor of the library telling him it was okay to be afraid and making him laugh in a way that no one else had done before. Rupert seemed to be regarding him too. “You’re not like the other boys.” Rupert’s odd declaration seemed to be half question half statement. Percy suddenly realized how vulnerable he had allowed himself to be with this other boy. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. He put his defenses back up. “Hah! Well I should think not! I am a Percy and far better than all of them, just like my father of course.”

“Hmm.” Rupert’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment before he looked back down at Fitzroy. Percy squirmed, the air seemed suddenly chilly.

Rupert’s head snapped back up and he smiled strangely. “Can I tell you a secret?” Rupert whispered conspiratorially. “Uh. Yah. Sure?”

Rupert looked around them to see if there were any eavesdroppers around. “I’m sneaking out. Next week.”

Percy didn’t know what to do with this information. It seemed very random that Rupert would suddenly change the subject to this. “You… are?” He replied, confused.

“Mmmhmm. I lost something along the edge of the forest, I’m going to go find it.”

“Why do you have to sneak out? Why not just go look for it?”

Rupert scrunched his face in frustration. “My mother would have a fit if she heard I had gone so close to the forest in the first place – no telling what she would do if she knew I wanted to go back.”

“I mean, everyone knows the forest is dangerous. Maybe she’s just trying to keep you safe? Seems reasonable to me. Just ask a guard or something to go find whatever it is.”

“Uhg! I knew you would…” Rupert grumbled for a moment. “Listen, I’m going okay? Midnight. In exactly one week. Do you want to come?”

If Percy had wondered if Rupert was crazy before, he knew it for certain now. The passionate gleam in his eye that he had worn that day in the training ground was back, but Percy had no idea why this boy with no skill in weaponry would want to go so close to the dangerous forest in the middle of the night, or why he would suggest that Percy, a boy who he had only known for an hour or so, go with him. But what better quest for a future knight than to protect his prince on a dangerous mission? He made up his mind. “Okay.”

“Yah?” Rupert grinned. “Yah.” Percy confirmed, feeling more confident about it now.

“Okay then.” Rupert got serious. “Meet me in seven days at midnight by the greenhouses. Wear black. Bring your sword.”

A thrill ran through Percy’s body. He was excited and a little scared. He would be breaking the rules, and helping Rupert defy the queen, but he was feeling reckless. “Yah, okay. Yah! I’ll be there.”

Rupert beamed then held out his hand across the aisle toward Percy. Percy regarded it for a moment before clasping it firmly. They both schooled their faces as they shook hands stoically. This was a serious agreement and required a serious moment. It didn’t last. They both erupted into giggles as soon as they let go. It felt good to just laugh and be silly and not worry about anyone thinking he was weird or not tough enough or… whatever! It felt good just to be himself.

Percy sighed, wiping happy tears from his eyes for a second time that evening. He looked over to the window to see that the storm had stopped raging outside. “I should probably get going. My father’s expecting me home.” Percy rose and dusted himself off.

Rupert uncoiled himself and stood up too. “You doing castle guard duty again this week?”

“Yah.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yah, see you around. Bye Rupert.”

“Bye Percy.”

#the two princes podcast #prince rupert #Percy Jr #Peru #Fanfic #wip

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wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You Chapter 154

Chapter Summary - Danielle and Tom head to the South coast with Tom's family for a large family get together and much to Tom's shock, Danielle allows herself get caught talking to his dog-obsessed Aunt.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Right, little things that need explaining.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

Danielle was practically giddy as she inhaled the saltwater air of Britain's southern coast. She looked to the blue liquid sparkling in the warmer than usual summer weather, the sun beaming in the cloudless sky.

Tom stood beside her, letting the sun warm his face as he too appreciated the good weather. For their part, Bobby and Mac seemed to want only to remain in the shade, neither overly happy with the higher temperatures. “We better get to the house and get unpacked. According to Sarah, everyone is meeting for an early dinner.” Danielle seemed reluctant to move. “We're here for a considerable portion of the summer.” He reminded her.

“It's the only reason you're going to be able to move me now.” She smiled back. “Don't forget to confirm your invitation to the Final. I'll drive, you do that.”

“There are invitations for both of us.” Tom looked at her hopefully.

“I can't, Love. I promised your Mam and Emma that I would help her mind Lucy that day. Jack's sister is getting married and Emma will only go if me and your Mam are minding Lucy, so I said yes.” She gave him an apologetic look. “And that's the Roubaix phase of the Tour as well.” She smirked.

Tom shook his head. “You're indoctrinating Lucy, aren't you?”

“Yep.” Tom chuckled and kissed her hand. “Next time.”

“I'll hold you to that.” Tom warned.

“Tennis is wasted on me. He hit the ball, the other guy hit the ball, both stayed in the box, now the first guy hit it again and so on and so forth.”

“Says she who is missing that to watch a bunch of emaciated men cycle a bumpy road for a shirt.” Tom retorted playfully.

“Yep. And a horrible bright yellow one at that. Ah, Sky will probably have it again this year with Froome.” She admitted.

“If you talk like that about it, why are you even going to watch it?”

“Because a whole race can change on one stage. One mistake and you can wipe out half the peloton. That and I love looking at the French countryside and towns throughout the Tour also.” She stated unapologetically as she stated the car so they could get back to the house.

The plan was a two week stay at first, the first week would involve the rest of the family too, Emma, Jack and Lucy, Yakov, Sarah and their Duchess and of course, Diana, all staying in one large house and the second week, only the two of them and Bobby and Mac, who Danielle and Tom had ensured would have their own spot in the house so to avoid babies if need be. Poppy, for the most part, was happy to interact with the males when it suited her but come meal and bedtime, she was more than able to inform them to leave her alone.

It was an odd sensation for Danielle to be in such a full house but she adored it. Tom seemed almost elated, having her to be by his side as his sister's partners were in events before. He told her about his different family members they would be meeting while Danielle reminded him that she had, in fact, met the majority of them before at Emma's wedding.

The dinner was pleasant, with everyone getting the rest of the house up-to-date with their goings on. Danielle had assisted Emma substantially with Lucy while Jack was forced to return to work, so both of them were knowledgeable on the other's business, but everyone was still curious to know about Danielle's new work venture and the arrival of a courier with a substantial case of documents from Safeguard did not help proceedings. Tom was elated to see Danielle accept the paperwork before placing it in a corner and commenting that she would deal with it after all the family related malarkey of the following few days.

Tom enjoyed the feeling of being surrounded by family. There, he could just be Tom again, no pretence, no public persona, they didn't care for that. To his aunts, uncles and cousins, he was simply Diana's boy who adored theatre and shows and it made him incredibly happy. He watched as again, Danielle assisted Emma with Lucy, holding the baby as Emma prepared a bottle of expressed milk for her daughter. He watched as she gently moved around so to allow Emma the time to sort herself and keep Lucy amused. At a mere six weeks, there was little thought required to make it so but Lucy seemed to like the movement and her Godmother was only too happy to oblige.

“So, when are we getting our big day out of you then?”

Tom sighed to himself at his aunt's words, having heard them a thousand times before, ever since he was twenty-five actually, had she badgered him about settling down and getting married. He also knew his mother had spoken to her sister-in-law regarding not doing so any longer, especially when Danielle and Tom confirmed they too would be coming to the family gathering. “Not yet, Aunt Delia.” He smiled politely.

“And why not, she's as good a girl as any.”

Tom laughed to himself. He knew Delia had not said more than a passing hello to Danielle yet, so her decision that she was a suitable spouse was based solely on observations from afar, in the twenty minutes they had all been at the one house. “Because Danielle is a busy woman and she hasn't time for such things at present and with my upcoming work, I am similar.”

“No one has told me yet what she does?”

Again, Tom found himself groaning internally at his aunt's assumption that she was automatically entitled to such information. “She owns a share in a safety management firm, she's a safety officer.”

“I see.”

Tom waited to see if, to Delia, that was an “acceptable” profession.

“Good.” She declared. “You need a strong woman.”

“Danielle is incredible.” Tom agreed. “She is an amazing woman. When you speak to her, you'll realise that too.” He smiled. “How is Rupert?”

On his asking about her beloved French Bulldog, Delia beamed brightly and took out her phone to show him pictures. Tom was relieved that she had moved on from keeping a bunch of pictures in her purse to show people but groaned at the knowledge that she would now have hundreds more to show. He glanced over to Danielle and gave her a small look to tell her everything he needed her to know.

Danielle chuckled to herself and nodded slightly.

“Dare I ask?” Emma questioned as she sat into a chair and taking Lucy.

Danielle handed her her daughter gently. “Tom is giving the “save me” look.”

“Are you going to save him?”

“No, not yet. You have to do it smartly. You leave it a few minutes and then do the whole 'Tom, your Mam needs you’ routine and save him from...what is she showing him?”

“Probably Rupert, her dog. She is obsessed with him. She had three kids but she loves the dog more than them or her grandchildren.” Emma commented as she put a bib on Lucy and began feeding her.

“Are you okay here? I better put the show on for her by going to your Mam.”

“I'm okay here, thank you. Buy if you see Jack, could you tell him to get me my pump from the car?”

“Of course, and if I don't, I'll grab it in a minute, okay?”

“Thank you.”

Danielle found Jack and relayed the message and then found Diana, being forced to make small talk with who she found out was Delia's husband for a few minutes before going and saving Tom.

Tom's face was nothing short of relief when he saw her coming toward them. He brightened his smile and gently leant forward. “Yes, Darling?”

“I am so sorry to interrupt but Tom, your Mam wants you for a moment, something to do with a photograph, she said you would know what that meant.”

“Darn, I hoped she would forget. Aunt Delia, I would like to introduce you to my wonderful Danielle, or as you have no doubt heard myself, Mum and Emma call her, just Elle and Elle, Darling, this is my lovely aunt Delia.”

“Oh, yes. I was speaking to your husband not too long ago, he says you have a lovely Frenchie.” Danielle smiled.

Danielle could have been the living embodiment of Satan but as soon as she mentioned Rupert with such enthusiasm, Delia deemed her worthy. “Yes, my wonderful Rupert, I was just telling Thomas about him.”

Danielle gave a slight smirk while Tom groaned at being referred to by his full name. “Yes, they're not common in Ireland, or weren't while I was growing up, but they are a big thing here. We meet two on our walks some days and they have to be one of the sweetest breeds ever. A lovely dog.”

“Oh, they are. I was just showing Thomas some pictures. Would you like to see him?”

“I would love to, as soon as I assist with this photograph that Diana mentioned. Is he brindle?” She noticed the screensaver of the phone and the dog on it.

“Yes, that's my Rupert, so handsome.” Delia smiled fondly. “I look forward to speaking with you more about him later.”

“As soon as I am done.” Danielle promised, earning a satisfied nod from Delia. “Run.” She urged Tom as soon as the older woman was out of hearing distance.

“Thank you.” He sighed as they walked through to a different room. “Aunt Delia is a lovely woman, in small doses and her obsession with that dog….it's difficult to listen to. You better find a way to avoid her later because if she thinks she has someone to listen, she will keep you for the whole evening.”

“It's boring but not the worst. I often think with people who focus so obsessively on one thing in their lives because they feel as though that one thing is all they really have.”

Tom and Sarah watched in awe as Delia showed what they suspected to be the thousandth picture of her beloved Rupert to Danielle who sat speaking with her as though it was only the second or third.

“How long is she there?” Sarah asked.

“Forty minutes on my last count.” Tom answered, checking his watch.

“Save her.”

“I tried to, she just asked me to get them more tea.” Sarah looked at him in disbelief. “Shit, Delia's crying, why is Delia crying?”

“I wasn't aware she had tear ducts.” Sarah commented. “She's holding Danielle's hand so it can't be something she did.”

“Why is my mother crying?” Peter, Tom and Sarah's cousin asked as he came over to them. “Is she alright?”

“She's smiling, so I think so.” Tom responded.

They watched a time more before Frank, Delia's husband came over and suggested they go to back to their place, that Rupert would be missing them. She said her goodbyes to Danielle who smiled kindly at her before turning to her husband and heading to Tom, Sarah and Peter.

“We best get back to Rupert, he will be pining something dreadful.” She declared.

“You and that bloody dog, Mother.” Peter sighed.

Delia chose to ignore her son. “Thomas, that Danielle of yours is the most wonderful girl. If only Peter had been half as fortunate.”

“Mother, Geraldine is my wife, the mother of your grandchildren.”

“Well, she's no Danielle.”

Tom looked at his shocked cousin, unsure of what to say. “Yes... Danielle is incredible.”

“Do not let that young lady leave. You will never get the likes of her again.”

“I don't plan to.” Tom smiled, looking at Danielle, who was helping his other aunt clean a mess one of the children had made.

“Good.” Satisfied, she left.

Tom looked at Peter apologetically. “So your girlfriend gets my mother to cry and she's the second coming of Princess Diana, how does that work?”

“I genuinely have no idea.” Tom laughed. “I will have to ask her.”

“Please, if it is something I can do, let me know.” Peter sighed in exasperation before going back to his wife.

“I'm curious too.” Sarah confessed. “Go ask her “

On his sister's order, and with a healthy dose of curiosity of his own, Tom went to do so.

“I let her show me her dog, that's why.” Danielle explained plainly. “I gave her forty minutes of my time to tell me about Rupert and that made her tell me how heartbroken she is that Peter, Rebecca and Jessica don't really spend time with her anymore. Rupert needs her and loves her selflessly in return for her attention when her children don't always have time for her.”

“I hadn't realised that.”

“She brought Rupert to a photographer recently and had him professionally photographed. She'd loved to do that with her grandchildren but feels that Peter and Jessica and their partners don't want her to push too much on them and she knows she is overbearing and is trying to rein herself in but she can't help it and as a result, she puts it into Rupert. It's heartbreaking really, she gets jealous of your Mam and how we make time for her but listening and looking at her photos, it made her day.”

Tom smiled lovingly at her. “You are incredible. So caring. Aunt Delia, a woman who is, at best, overbearing, is a fan of yours.”

“She's a nice lady really.” Danielle smiled. “I know she is probably hard to have as a mother but she's not the worst. That dog gets the most of it.”

“He looks peculiar”

“French Bulldogs, they look like they've been hit in the face with a hot shovel. So ugly they're cute sort of thing.”

Tom laughed adoringly, loving the fact they had another two weeks by the coast to enjoy with Danielle by his side.

#i hate you i love you #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn #chapter 154

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lostgirlrewatch · 4 years

Text

1x09 - Fae Day

Written by: Jeremy Boxen

Directed by: Steve DiMarco

Original Air Date: November 14, 2010

I’m back, bitches.

There’s like 130 people who follow this blog now, which is crazy. I don’t know why you followed, whether it’s to reblog gifsets, to read/skim the episode blog posts, or because of gay girls. But thank you. I took a long break because real life is a bitch. And also because Lost Girl episode 1x09 sucks.

My plan is to be back permanently and post on a more consistent basis. My goal is to post one episode commentary every Sunday around 5PM EST, give or take a few hours.

As I write this, I am sitting here drinking very strong coffee and eating an underwhelming Walmart blueberry muffin, having just watched 1x09.

Wow, that episode was boring. In fact, I had completely forgotten about it.

The premise is that Bo is upset by the events at the end of last episode—Vex getting away without providing any information on her mom, Lu Ann supposedly being executed—and wants to “take a break” from the Fae, which she does by going to the Dal with Kenzi for a drink, where a ton of Fae are partying. (Okay.)

It’s a holiday called La Showshang--

--(no, I am not looking up how it is actually spelled) where Light and Dark Fae call a truce and are allowed to fuck each other. And also they can’t fight. Then a banshee screams and predicts that someone at the party will die, and Bo decides to help out.

Does it sound stupid yet?

No? Okay, then how about this? While Bo and Dyson are off investigating, Kenzi stays behind and randomly develops a crush on this milquetoast motherfucker with no personality.

So it turns out this guy, Sean, is the one who is predicted to die. Some drama ensues between him and his estranged brother, that is really, truly, very interesting, I assure you, it is super interesting. (It’s not.) Spoilers: the dad did it. Sean dies at the end anyway.

Now that we’ve got the plot out of the way, let’s at least talk about how this episode contributes to the overall arc. Or does it?

Last episode, Trick secretly saved Lu Ann from execution so that he could find out more information about Bo’s birth mom. He hasn’t told anyone that he did this, except Dyson (when asked). Dyson, understandably, is a bit peeved that they are still keeping Bo in the dark about “all this.”

What exactly is “all this,” you ask? I can’t remember if it’s been revealed in the show prior to now, but Dyson name drops an “Aife” who is on her way to town, so I think it’s safe to say that both Trick and Dyson are aware of who Bo’s birth mother is, and are deliberately keeping it from her. Ah, yes. The most important thing in her life, the thing that haunts her day in and day out, the thing that Dyson literally saw her go apeshit on Vex about and then break down crying about afterwards. They just casually know it, and aren’t telling her. Bo also thinks that Lu Ann is dead, so that’s doubly cruel. Dyson is just as guilty for keeping Bo in the dark as Trick is, but at least he has the decency to be upset about it and insist that they stop doing it.

Trust. What a wonderful, elusive thing. Hm.

Dyson and Trick are cowards and failures.

Trick is like Dollar Tree Giles. Just as much of an asshole, but with less of a personality, and less interesting and likable. Rupert Giles being an asshole works because by the time we realize what a fucking dick he is, we have grown to know him well and care about him, and his assholery is the casual, patronizing, well-meaning kind that makes him extra realistic. It hits hard. I mean, sure, I hate Giles, but I also love Giles for the character he is. Trick is just…I feel like they tried to make him the Giles of Lost Girl, and it falls flat because we have no reason to give a shit about him. He just comes across as a grumpy, neurotic old fuck who is extremely cruel to Bo (someone who is *spoilers* rather close to him) for seemingly no reason.

Dyson: How long are we gonna not tell Bo about this?

Trick: For as long as we can.

Great. Nice talking to you, Trick.

Dyson also calls Trick the “Blood King” in this scene, so now we know he is apparently really important.

Kenzi has another run-in with death in this episode. If you vaguely followed the trajectory of this season so far, have you noticed that Kenzi seems to have an interaction with “death,” as a concept, in every other episode? It sure feels that way.

I like that Kenzi’s reaction to finding out Sean is going to die is, “You know what? Fuck no. If you are going to die, you are going to die without regrets.” In her own wise words (or those of Ludacris), regret is fo suckas. Bitch.

Kenzi’s reaction to death is always rebellion, or at the very least, she is super into the idea of living life to the fullest while you still can. She gives me trauma vibes of, “Death is always around the corner, so I’m always seeking thrills and always trying to live without regrets.”

Sean dies at the end, right in her arms.

Girl, you knew him for one day.

But it’s still awful. Kenzi has seen too much death already, and she deserves better. Unfortunately, this show is not kind to her. If you’ve seen the next few seasons, you know that this one-off situation is only the first in an ongoing trend—Kenzi’s absurdly horrendous luck with regards to her love life.

Kenzi should be, physically at least, the weakest character. She is the youngest by far. But she always takes the hardest hits.

#lost girl #bo dennis #kenzi malikov #bo and kenzi #kenzi #dyson #trick #lauren and hale are nowhere to be found #1x09 #lost girl rewatch

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quentinsquill · 5 years

Text

Fic: “Four Letters and a Funeral” (The Magicians)

Four Letters and a Funeral

Author: Lexalicious70

Fandom: The Magicians

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1,943

Warnings: Canon character death

Spoilers for 3x05

Summary: Four letters from the mosaic universe and how they play a part in the lives of Quentin, Eliot, Arielle, and little Rupert.

Author’s Notes: This is for the @whitespiresarmory’s Armory Challenge, Week 3: “Letters.” All errors are my own. I don’t own The Magicians, this is just for the fun of it all. Comments and kudos are magic: enjoy!

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758550

Four Letters and a Funeral

By Lexalicious70 (all_hale_eliot)

Quentin wrote a letter the evening he’d kissed Eliot.

Words always came to him simpler when he put them on paper. There was no eye contact to maintain, phrases and meanings could be chosen with more care, and his pen didn’t stutter or become afflicted with a severe case of what Eliot called the ‘uhms.’ With these circumstances came a kind of confidence that Quentin didn’t possess very often, and the letter flowed out onto the page as Eliot dozed on the blanket they’d laid out earlier in the evening. The words flickered in the firelight.

Dear Eliot,

I’ve never been very good at being sure of my actions. No matter the situation, I usually end up second guessing myself or obsessing over the outcome had I chosen the other option. You’re probably aware of this, and maybe you’ve even been on the receiving end of this habit I can’t seem to shake. But I want you to know that tonight, when I kissed you, I’ve never been surer of anything, even when Dean Fogg asked me if I wanted to study magic at Brakebills.

I keep thinking about the way you kissed me back . . . it was so different than the night we had with Margo. I don’t remember a lot of details, but your kisses then were hungry, like you’d been waiting your whole life to kiss me. I don’t know if it was the wine or the emotion bottles or if you really had been waiting to kiss me since the moment we met, but the time we spent together tonight makes me realize that it doesn’t have to be complicated; it seems like we both want the same thing, so why the fuck not? We’re here, and we care about each other, and that feels like it’s enough. I’m sorry that it’s taken me a year to figure this out, but I do love you, Eliot, and I hope it’s not too late for me to live my life here—to live it with you.

Yours, Always,

Quentin slipped the letter into Eliot’s pocket and stretched out next to him on the homespun blanket, under the cover of starlight, before giving himself over to sleep.

5 Days Later

A letter appeared tucked between the pages of The World in the Walls, which Quentin had been carrying in his Sharo bag when they’d traveled to this universe. Eliot was outside sorting mosaic tiles, and Quentin pushed back his long hair as he sat down in the little eating nook they’d made and opened the sheet of cream-colored parchment. Eliot’s handwriting was as elegant as everything else about him, the script leaning toward the right.

Dear Q,

There is no ‘maybe’ when it comes to being on the receiving end of your lack of self-confidence, but thank you for acknowledging that shortcoming. I have plenty of my own, however, so please don’t think that I hold this against you. We all have our demons, and sometimes they cause us to hurt the ones we care about.

I never expected you to kiss me that night, but my God, it was like you opened a door that I was sure had slammed shut that night with Margo (actually more like shut and then nailed closed,) and you gave me another chance at something I thought I had ruined forever because I was selfish. And I was hungry that night, Q, I’d been dreaming of the taste of your lips, your skin, your cock . . . and I gave into my desires even though I knew it was selfish. Maybe I knew, as drunk as I was, that what we did was bound to cause trouble between you and Alice. I don’t know if I can say I’m sorry for that, because once I tasted you, Q, all I’ve ever wanted was more.

I have plenty of reasons to refuse you: the strangeness of this world, the thought that you may just be lonely, my own issues with commitment and my fears that I may somehow end up hurting you. But all that aside, Q, I have one overwhelming reason for saying yes, and it’s this: I love you, Quentin Coldwater. From the moment you stumbled from the bushes, sweaty and floppy-haired, and asked me if you were hallucinating, you’ve held a piece of my heart.

That being said, all I can do now is offer you the rest.

Always Yours,

Eliot

Two Years Later

“Oh, goddamn it!”

Eliot turned from the weaving loom to regard Quentin, who was crumpling up what looked like his sixth piece of parchment in fifteen minutes, his cheeks flushed with emotion. Eliot locked the loom so the shirt he was making wouldn’t unravel and went over to his partner.

“What is it, Q?”

“I’m trying to write a letter to Arielle so we can—you know—tell her how we feel and everything? But I can’t get the words right. It either sounds too formal or like I’m offering something that’s inappropriate. I love her—I’ve told her that already, so why is it so hard to write this?”

“Well let’s see.” Eliot dragged a chair over and produced a new piece of parchment. “Maybe I can help. After all, I want her to stay too. She’s good for you, Q,” Eliot had said as they sat down to write the letter together. “and didn’t our P.A. teacher say that the triangle is the strongest shape in nature?”

“You and Margo always ditched P.A.”

“Did we? Hmmph . . . I must have heard her say it while we were portaling our way out the back. “Let’s see . . .”

The letter took over two hours to draft, and when it was finished, Eliot and Quentin left it in the empty wicker basket near the door, where Arielle always placed their fresh fruit. It read:

Our Dearest Arielle,

There are many things we’ve found to be special about this place, but you are the most unique by far. Your kindness, the way you always went out of your way to visit us, spoke volumes about your generous nature. Our fondness for you has, over the past few months, become something more, and we’d like to invite you to stay. We know from past experience that this kind of relationship is pretty common in Fillory, especially when it comes to a man having both a wife and a husband. While we consider ourselves married, we know that adding you to our family would only make it stronger and more complete.

It's true that we never expected someone to come into our lives that would affect us like you have. But life, like magic, is unpredictable. You may be a part of the puzzle when it comes to the beauty of all life, or maybe you appeared because you hold a different kind of beauty, one that Quentin certainly doesn’t want to live without. We both believe you’re good for us in many ways, Arielle, and because we’ve learned that families in Fillory are created and not always bound by blood, your staying with us and becoming a part of our family makes sense.

We hope you say yes.

Affectionately Yours,

Quentin and Eliot

Six years later

They found the letter hidden in a folded, embroidered piece of cloth among Arielle’s things a few weeks after her death, when Quentin finally responded to Eliot’s pleas to leave their bed, where he’d been since Arielle and her stillborn daughter, Grace, were buried in the woods behind their cottage. Neither magic or medicine could stop the hemorrhaging once little Grace had come into the world, blue and silent, leaving Quentin, Eliot, and their four-year-old son, Rupert, bereft.

“What do we do?” Quentin asked, fresh tears coursing down his cheeks as he held up the envelope with Rupert’s name on it. Sun poured through the cottage window and Eliot noticed a few glimmering strands of silver in his husband’s long, tawny hair. “He’s too little to read and maybe he won’t understand—he keeps asking me when his mom and the baby are coming back.” The last word hung itself on a sob and Eliot drew Quentin into his arms.

“Shhh, Q. It’s all right. Shhh, my love.” He soothed, kissing Quentin’s forehead and temples before producing a cool, wet cloth in one hand. He used it to wipe Quentin’s face. “Hey . . . listen. Rupert is going to be fine. He’s a tough little man. Why don’t we read it to him? Hmm? I bet he’d like it.”

“Y-Yeah,” Quentin sniffled. “It’s his, after all.”

***

They sat in the main room of the cottage, where the sun cast long fingers of light through the windows well into the late afternoon. Eliot made himself comfortable in the rocker while Quentin sat in his favorite chair with Rupert in his lap, the boy’s head on his shoulder. Quentin rubbed his back while Rupert sucked his thumb and listened to his Papa Eliot read.

My Dearest Little Rupert,

If your daddies found this letter, I hope they read it to you. You are my special little blossom, and I want you to know how much you are loved.

You live in a world of infinite magic, little one, but if fate decides that I can’t be with you, there are a few things I want you to remember:

Always listen to your daddies. They know what’s best for you and will always protect and love you

Be kind to nature. It will always return your kindness with bounty

Fall apples make for the best pies

Eliot passed the letter to Quentin, who cleared his throat and continued reading.

Flowers and fruit blossoms want to be noticed and admired—always stop and do so

Nature has its own magic

Learn to weave from your Papa Eliot—it’s a talent you will use all your life

You will always be in my heart, my little blossom, no matter where I travel. I am a part of you, which means you never have to feel lonely. I am no further away than the beating of your own heart. Take care of your daddies—they’re a part of you, too.

I Love You Forever,

Mommy

Quentin folded the letter with one hand and set it aside. Rupert raised his head from his father’s shoulder.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah Rupe?”

“Can you teach me to read and write, so I can write mommy a letter back?”

“Sure I can,” Quentin smiled and smoothed his son’s hair to one side. “But for now, I think it’s time I helped you wash up for supper.” He lifted Rupert up and carried him toward the little washroom they’d added a few years earlier, his free hand trailing along Eliot’s shoulder with affection. Eliot touched it in return and watched the light fade from the room as he recalled the words of the letter Quentin had written him so long ago.

We’re here, and we care about each other, and that feels like it’s enough.

Fin

#my fic #The Magicians #mosaic universe @whitespiresarmory #Queliot #Arielle

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comradesummers · 5 years

Note

4, 12+characters, 16 for the Buffy asks!

4. What’s your opinion on Riley?

My opinion on Riley has changed drastically over the years. I used to hate him, I thought he was the worst. Tbh, I still kind of think he’s the worst, but I hate him less now. Like, the toxic masculinity stuff is bad, don’t get me wrong. But I think I’ve grown to understand his desperation in regards to Buffy better. He’s right when he says that she doesn’t love him, or if she does, certainly not as much as he loves her. And that sucks. I’m not saying it excuses any of his actions, but I think I can better empathize with them now then I could before.

Besides, I do genuinely believe that he’s trying to do real good. He believes in the Initiative’s goals at first, but when he realizes that what they’re doing is wrong, he actually rethinks his entire worldview. That’s not easy to do, and I appreciate it.

That said, he isn’t anywhere near my favorite character, he’s pretty bland, and even in his more likable moments, the actor just isn’t very good. So I do get why people don’t like him.

12. Top five characters.

This one changes pretty much on a daily basis, because there are a lot of characters on this show that I love. And, to be clear, I’m limiting this solely to characters on BtVS, not the entire Buffyverse, because I can’t only do five for that. So, for now:

1. Buffy Summers (love of my life)

2. Faith Lehane

3. Cordelia Chase

4. Dawn Summers

5. Tara Maclay

You know what, fuck it, I’m not stopping at five.

6. Willow Rosenberg

7. Anya Jenkins

8. Rupert Giles

Ok, now I’m done. I love a lot of other characters too, but those characters aren’t my faves like the ones I listed are.

16. Which character do you wish was developed more?

It’s a tie between Anya and Dawn.

With Dawn I’m mostly referring to season 7. At the end of season 6 there was this promise that Buffy was going to show Dawn the world, and teach her how to fight and it was going to be awesome. But then that just didn’t happen. Dawn was barely in season 7. I mean, she had a couple of good episodes, but for the most part she was cast aside so that Buffy could train the potentials. And I’ll always be pretty bitter about that.

And Anya, well, in like 3 seasons on the show she had one character centric episode. And, it’s weird because she and Tara were kind of in the same boat in that regard, but it still feels like Tara had more of a character arc, grew and changed more over the course of the show, had more relationships with people outside of her significant other (that’s not to say that I would’ve minded if Tara had also gotten more development and more screen time, which she would have done if she hadn’t been fridged, but that’s a whole other rant). Anya didn’t have that stuff, and spent a lot of her time on the show being relegated to comic relief. Which sucks because she is such a fascinating character, and Emma Caulfield is a really great actress. They could’ve done so much more with her.

#i'll be honest #i wrote this after the concerta had worn off and i'm pretty sure it shows #so #sorry about that #riley finn #dawn summers #anya jenkins #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer

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jui-imouto-chan · 6 years

Text

Part 10 of the Mostly Human AU

Level Select:

Getting through to the last of the suggestions from @manadrite ‘s most recent comment (as of posting this)! I love having suggestions, keep ‘em coming!

Connor isn’t one to get terribly scared. He actually gets a thrill from scary situations.

His sense of self-preservation is startlingly low, for a being granted with immeasurable intelligence. At least, that’s what Hank claims.

Furthermore, Connor loves Horror. From movies to novels to images, he loves things made to be scary.

- Connor may or may not have had a weird crush on Slenderman for like a week.

Maybe it was the towering height and the lack of a face, or maybe it was the slim fitting suit that made the creature so appealing to him.

Okay maybe Connor has a suit kink.

When he sees Gavin in an officer’s clothing and finds the man slightly attractive, it’s clear that he just straight (pfft) up has a uniform kink.

Connor will take this newfound information to the g r a v e.

Connor goes to see a horror movie with Hank and the twins, and he’s ecstatic.

He puts all of the pieces together detective style to figure out how the protagonists are either gonna die or solve the problem while Collin and Conan grip their seats a bit too tight and while Hank mutters flaws about the movie under his breath.

“This scene does not include a lap dance.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

By the end of the movie, Collin and Conan had migrated to partially hide behind Connor, and Connor points this out to them.

They lie and say they were getting sleepy, and were dozing off on his seat.

Connor goes with it with a knowing smirk and a wink, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

Connor goes missing one day.

They try to give him a call when he they don’t see him that morning, but they receive no answer.

Hank and the twins storm through the house, upturning furniture and looking under the beds, in the closets, outside. He’s nowhere to be found.

They call up all of his friends, but nobody knows where he is.

The DCPD gets at least fifteen calls all at once reporting Connor missing.

While everyone is freaking out, Connor is actually, in fact, not missing.

He is out for a walk, Sumo at the vet’s for a check up and grooming, and he spots an animal shelter/pet shop.

There are dogs and cats in cages by the windows, and Connor gravitates towards them without thought to anything else.

He enters the shop and, after talking with the person behind the counter for ten minutes, is surrounded by animals, all vying for his attention.

He’d never seen a cat before this, and honestly, he now holds cats to the same regard as dogs.

It’s his first time seeing a lot of animals, all of them immensely cute. He giggles when a rabbit nibbles on his pointer finger.

The employee who allowed this to happen is melting against the counter, everything is too much. Too cute.

The employee pulls out a camera and records, knowing the manager would love to use this as an ad.

Connor already gave his consent for any media that his interaction might appear in, so it’s all gucci, even though Connor’s too preoccupied with the animals to even realize he’s being recorded.

Connor is there for a few hours, all of the time considered blissful to the android.

The video was sent to the editor as soon as the employee got clips of Connor interacting with each and every one of the animals.

It's edited impressively quickly, yet still professionally; the editor accredited it to “passion”.

When the ad goes up on all of the shelter/shop ‘s social media, with Connor tagged in the photo, everything halts.

Connor finally registers that his phone, being sat on by two guinea pigs, is ringing.

He answers it, and is disappointed when he's told to return home immediately by Hank. Hank sounds angry, distressed, and relieved all at once.

The employee reassures him, telling him that he can return whenever he’d like.

There’s an issue when Connor is on his way home, however, as he gets attacked.

A man tries to mug him with a knife to his throat, pushing him into an alleyway, and while Connor manages to push him away, he doesn’t anticipate the man having accomplices.

He gets a few surprise stab wounds that go into some biocomponents, but their timers are set to at least an hour before he shuts down.

He defeats his attackers and sends Hank his location, telling him that he needs emergency care needs to be taken to Kamski as soon as possible.

His systems kick him into sleep mode against a cold alley wall to preserve thirium, which leaks copiously from his many wounds.

Connor wakes up to the ceiling of Kamski’s “operating” room, vaguely wondering if the past few months had been the equivalent of a dream, if he had imagined all of the friends he’d made and all of the things he’d experienced.

The thought...saddens Connor.

Luckily, a few minutes after he awakens, he hears Hank’s gruff voice and a plethora of footsteps approaching the room he’s in.

Connor goes to sit up, but winces in pain. His movement brings up a prompt, asking if he’d like to interface with the android equivalent of an IV, though it contains a liquid that promotes self-reparation at the cost of his mental capabilities being lowered until his wounds are healed.

TL;DR, it’s the closest Connor can get to pain killing medication.

He accepts the interface and he suddenly feels...oddly happy?

Everything is moving around the slightest bit and Connor can’t help but smile. Everything was great and he was having fun, sitting on the table.

He giggles drunkenly.

His wounds are slowly closing themselves, and he scoots to the edge of the table while humming an unknown tune. He smiles triumphantly once his knees finally hang over the edge, he kicks them and rocks his head side to side.

When everyone enters the room, he’s surrounded by people and get-well gifts and he’s just so happy. He really doesn’t think of the consequences of his actions.

So that’s exactly why he thanks them all with hugs and kisses, skin tingly and buzzing while his chest feels warm and full.

The members of Jericho are frozen when he gives them all kisses to the cheek, and then all of them simultaneously slap a hand onto their cheek and stare at each other with pink faces. Daniel and Simon both duck their heads while Josh pulls his hood over his face and rugs on the drawstrings. North is suddenly more occupied with poking Markus’ red cheeks and teasing him as he shakes.

Hank tries to fight him off, but eventually relents, ruffling his hair bashfully. Conan and Collin both turn their heads as he approaches their cheeks, leading to him kissing both of them on the lips, though he just laughs good naturedly when they both nod at each other and go to opposite sides of the room, ears red.

Ralph and the Jerrys are surprisingly shy when Connor kisses them, but Ralph gives him a kiss on the cheek back, while the Jerrys all rub their necks and look away with silly grins.

Luther and Kara let Alice take their share of kisses, and she presses a kiss to Connor’s nose.

Rupert tries to escape Connor, but the brunette grabs his sleeve and gives him a kiss to the temple. Rupert immediately tries to flee the room, and Connor waves. Rupert hesitates before waving back and running away.

Connor goes to give Gavin a kiss, too, but the detective shoves a homemade cupcake in his mouth before he can. He still manages to give the guy a hug, though.

Kamski approaches, by Connor’s hug and kiss for him are stolen by Chloe, who had just snapped out of her shock at seeing Connor surrounded by a goddamn harem.

She growls at everyone in the room, sans Alice, Hank, Kara, and Luther.

Kamski is kinda concerned?? People don’t growl like that, wtf.

Also, he’s kinda upset that she’s keeping him from getting affection from his own creation but he’s not about to let his head get ripped off today

Chloe says that there’s too many people in the room, it’s getting late, and that Connor should get some more rest so that he can recover completely.

She tries to sound pleasant, but she really just sounds threatening af

Once she’s sufficiently scared the fuck out of everyone there and gotten them to leave, she puts her hands on Connor’s shoulders and tries to explain that nobody is allowed to touch him bc he’s too precious and, “nobody deserves you. This world doesn’t deserve you. The G-Man in the sky doesn’t even deserve you u pure boi.”

He doesn’t remember a word of this in the morning, but Chloe doesn’t know that.

He goes home in Hank’s car, Sumo already back from the vet and now laying across his lap, and finds out that Conan and Collin are at registration for their next year of college

(lol idk if thats something u have to go do at college, im 15 and clueless)

Next Level: College Care Packages and Birthday Parties (suggested by @supposedlymatureadult )

X | Continue to Next Level

O | Save Progress and Quit to Main Menu

————————————— •

I think I got carried away with the kissing but I just really wanted Connor to be overly affectionate. At least I didn’t go down the sexual route.

Leave suggestions in the notes or in my ask, along with any questions, comments, and anything else!

Side note: If you want to receive notice of this AU but not the other random things I post/reblog (don’t worry I‘m not offended if that’s the case), I’m marking them all with #Jui’s Mostly Human AU in the tags, so you can follow that instead if that’s preferable!

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jennycalendar · 5 years

Text

very really married (9/15)

read it on ao3!

WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT. WE HAVE AN ACTUAL NUMBER OF CHAPTERS. EXCITING !!!!!!

for real, tho, this started off as a very self-indulgent half-conceived plot bunny that came from me wanting to write a s1 where giles and jenny were fake married, and then it turned into....something...with a plot. incredible. i am so so happy to say that it’s finished, and it’s coherent, and it is something i am so proud of--and i am super looking forward to posting the remaining chapters !!!!

Giles supposed that the mystery of Jenny might trouble him more if he hadn’t gotten to know her so well over the last few months. She had proven so many times over that her primary goal was to protect the people she cared for. It was perhaps foolish of him to trust her so implicitly, but the feeling in his chest when he looked at her felt too strong to be incorrect. It also felt too strong to be simply attraction, but…that was a problem to be addressed later, he hoped. There were other problems they were facing at the moment.

“Principal Snyder’s trying to leverage that one time he saw us holding hands in a faculty meeting to get me to pass all the athletes taking his class,” Jenny was telling Giles, carding her fingers absently through his hair. Her wedding ring caught briefly, but the light tug just made Giles smile. He liked being reminded that it was his wife sitting atop his desk while he took his tea. “And I was like, I mean, we’ve done so much worse on the premises. Didn’t you feel me up in a broom closet on Monday?”

“You make it sound so crass,” said Giles, his smile widening. Leaning back in his office chair, he tilted his head back to rest it in Jenny’s lap.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Jenny, and leaned down to kiss him. “Didn’t you rest your hand upon my heaving bosom on Monday?”

“That’s worse,” said Giles seriously, delighting in Jenny’s laugh. “That’s—that’s terrible romance novel language, Jenny.”

“A poet I am not,” said Jenny unapologetically. She grinned, thoughtful. “Can you come up with something better?”

Giles considered this, resting his cheek on her leg as he did so. “I felt you up in a broom closet on Monday,” he conceded. “Though if I recall, you did a fair amount of feeling up in return.”

“And who could blame me?” Jenny kissed him again, then sighed. “I should probably go set up the lab.”

“Should you?”

“You’re the worst,” said Jenny, not very seriously. “Really, I should—”

Outside Giles’s office, the sound of loud, cheerful voices could be heard as the library doors burst open. “GILES!” Buffy called, heedless of any rules regarding the library being a quiet place. “We need to talk!”

“Duty calls, huh?” Jenny brushed her fingers gently against Giles’s cheek. He shivered. “At least they aren’t gonna flip if they see me coming out of your office.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” said Giles ruefully, sitting up. “I rather think we scarred Buffy for life with our little morgue drawer display.” He stood, turning to offer Jenny a hand. She took it, and he tugged her gently off the desk, taking a deliberate extra moment to steady her. “Be out in a second, Buffy!” he called, then kissed Jenny’s nose. She laughed.

“Giles, can you please stop making out with your wife and just come out here?” Buffy called.

Giles rolled his eyes a little, opening the office door and leaning against the doorframe. Jenny stepped up next to him. “What brings you three to the library this early?” he asked, a little concerned by the answer. “Generally our—ah—study group doesn’t meet before lunch.”

“Yeah, well, that was before Angel and I had to fend off three really nasty—” Buffy stopped, glancing furtively at Jenny. “Um, they—”

“Vampires?” said Jenny.

Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Giles all stared incredulously at her.

“Look, I, uh, know you’re shocked,” continued Jenny, completely misinterpreting their stares, “but you all seem absolutely hell-bent on placing yourselves in progressively weirder and more dangerous situation. After that stuff with the hyenas last week, I think it’s important that you all know about the whole vampire situation in Sunnydale.”

“I’m sorry?” said Giles.

“Vampires are real,” said Jenny patiently.

Buffy gaped at Jenny. After a very pointed look from Giles, she seemed to remember how to speak again. “Yep!” she managed. “Vampires! Wow, that is some shocking information right there, Ms. Calendar, and it brings up a lot of questions!”

“Like, say, how does Ms. Calendar know about vampires without Giles knowing Ms. Calendar knew about vampires?” Willow asked.

“That is a very good question, Willow,” said Buffy, giving Giles a death glare. “Why would Giles not know that his wife knew about vampires? Especially considering—”

“—that I myself am working on a paranormal book,” Giles finished very loudly, glaring right back at Buffy. “Jenny, why on earth didn’t you tell me?”

Jenny exhaled, looking up at Giles. “I didn’t want to put you in danger,” she said softly. “You find it easily enough even without knowing about vampires.”

This made sense, and didn’t surprise Giles in the slightest. Most of this information wasn’t new to him, after all. What was new was the fact that Jenny had just made her knowledge of the supernatural very clear to the children, and the children now knew that Jenny knew about vampires, which raised a lot of obvious questions as to why Giles hadn’t yet told her he was a Watcher. “I understand,” he said, smiling weakly. He did his best not to look at Buffy, Willow, and Xander, who all looked varying degrees of disapproving. “That, um, must have caused you quite a lot of worry.”

Jenny waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve been through that part before,” she said. “You know I worry about you. That’s not in question. What I want to know is why there were vampires chasing Buffy and—” She stopped, a strange expression on her face, and then said, “Angel.”

Buffy didn’t miss this. “Do you know Angel?” she asked curiously.

“You said he helped you fend off some vampires last night?” Jenny asked, so confident and casual that only Giles noticed she hadn’t answered Buffy’s question.

“Yeah,” said Buffy. A soft, slow smile spread across her face. “He had to spend the night with me.”

Jenny blanched. Willow beamed. Xander said, loud and furious, “He spent the night? In your room? In your bed?”

“Not in my bed,” Buffy corrected, still smiling. “By my bed.”

“That is so romantic!” Willow sighed. “Did you, uh…I mean, did he, uh…”

“Perfect gentleman,” said Buffy dreamily.

“Did you invite him in?” said Jenny suddenly.

Buffy looked surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Did you say the words come in?” Jenny had a strange look in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” said Buffy slowly, looking a little amused. “It was kind of a life-or-death situation. You know how it is with vampires.”

“Unfortunately,” said Jenny grimly. “Buffy, Angel isn’t the kind of guy you want in your bedroom.”

“Thank you,” said Xander loudly, looking extremely pleased. “See? Even Ms. Calendar thinks Angel’s bad news.”

“You said yourself he’s not dangerous, didn’t you?” Buffy said plaintively, directing large puppy eyes at Jenny. “And nothing happened. He’s a good guy.”

Jenny bit her lip, considering. Then she said, “If anything happens, you let me know, Buffy. Do you understand that? Any single, solitary thing that seems out of the ordinary—”

“And I come to you, I got it.” Buffy beamed angelically.

Giles was beginning to frown. It was one thing for Jenny to have her secrets, but quite another for her secrets to intersect with his authority as a Watcher. Anything out of the ordinary that Buffy experienced had to be first and foremost reported to Giles, not Jenny. “May I speak with you in private?” he asked quietly, tugging at Jenny’s sleeve.

Jenny looked a little surprised. “Sure,” she said, and let him lead her back into the office. As he shut the door, she sat down on the top of his desk, surveying him with a hopeful interest. “Stealing a kiss?” she said lightly.

“Not quite,” said Giles. “Jenny, what is going on between you and Angel? It’s clear you know something about him that you aren’t divulging.”

Jenny considered this. Then she said, “Rupert, you took that new information about vampires a lot better than I expected you to. What’s up with that?”

Giles exhaled, impatient. “I research the supernatural quite extensively,” he said. “The concept of vampires being real is a possibility that has crossed my mind more than once. What don’t Buffy and I know about Angel?”

“Something that isn’t any of your business,” said Jenny. “Something that shouldn’t be any of your business, not if I have anything to say about it. He shouldn’t be staying in a teenage girl’s bedroom.”

“He seems a decent enough fellow,” said Giles quietly. “Certainly not the type to take any liberties.”

“You don’t know him,” said Jenny, looking directly up at Giles.

“And that’d be helped if you told me why I should be worried!” Giles snapped, frustrated.

Jenny flushed, looking genuinely hurt. As she crossed her arms against her chest, Giles felt a sudden, painful twinge of guilt. “If you trust me like you say you do, you’ll know I wouldn’t ever keep something from you without good reason,” she said quietly, “Believe me, Rupert, this is something I want to tell you, but there are so many other factors in play. The moment I can tell you, I swear I will. Right now isn’t that moment.” She drew in a shaking breath. “I wish it was.”

Giles felt terrible. Here he was guarding his secrets with every intention of keeping them from Jenny for as long as possible, and here she was telling him she wanted, badly, to share her own with him. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “It’s difficult to know that there are parts of you I don’t understand.”

“Well, hey, that’s marriage,” said Jenny with a wobbly laugh. “Not exactly a picnic, but…worth the work.” She reached out, squeezing Giles’s hands.

“I do trust you,” said Giles softly. “More than most.”

“I’d hope so,” said Jenny. There was that beautiful smile, tentative and sincere, the one that only he ever brought out.

Giles was tempted, badly, to kiss her again, but the children were outside and waiting. Reluctantly, he dropped her hands. “I’d best get back to the children,” he murmured. “And I—”

Jenny gripped his shirt, pressing her mouth firmly to his. Giles laughed a bit breathlessly, kissing her back.

Things had changed between them. Giles, half-awake in bed that night, was quite comfortable admitting that. Jenny touched him because she wanted to touch him, and kissed him because she liked him, and did the washing up because he did the cooking and she felt like it was only fair. He liked talking to her at night, both of them drowsy and safe in bed, about art and literature and that frankly ridiculous thing that some student in her class had done. Saying that he was smitten with her didn’t quite cover his growing feelings for her—not when everything he found out about her seemed to solidify how very much he cared for her.

It was these feelings that posed a problem. Giles was deeply afraid of losing her if ever she found out how much he had been keeping from her. It was true that she understood secrets, especially with some of her own, but he didn’t at all know how she would feel about the entire extra facet of his personality. To her, he was Rupert, a gentle librarian, but to Buffy and Willow and Xander, he was Giles, a Watcher and a researcher. He couldn’t at all imagine her loving both.

Caring for both.

Giles let out a frightened breath. When had he started wanting Jenny to love him?

Jenny, as always, had fallen asleep first, her head pillowed on his shoulder. It was giving Giles a frustrating amount of time to think—about her, about him, about the impossibilities that he wanted for the both of them. He imagined meeting Jenny the way they were supposed to have met, not roundabout, not married to her in Vegas before they had even learned to like each other. He thought about how they might have met in a staff meeting before school started, and he might have found out she knew more than he had expected, and she might have gotten to know him as a Watcher and a friend all in one. Him asking her out to dinner, their stumbling through a sweet, awkward courtship, them falling in love without secrets between them.

“Jenny,” he said softly.

Jenny stirred against his chest. “Mm?”

“Do you think—would we have been better, had we met the right way round?” Giles asked, his own voice weary. He wished he could fall asleep as easily as her.

Jenny hummed, cuddling into him. “I think I’m happy I’m here,” she whispered.

Something about that made Giles feel better and worse at the same time. He kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes.

The next day brought alarming news.

“Angel’s a vampire?” said Willow disbelievingly.

“I can't believe this is happening,” said Buffy, small and tired. “One minute we were kissing, and the next minute…” She looked plaintively to Giles. “Can a vampire ever be a good person? Couldn't it happen?”

Giles kept on thinking of Jenny’s words. He shouldn’t be staying in a teenage girl’s bedroom. And yet if Angel was truly a threat…how could Jenny possibly put Buffy’s life at risk? “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “By all accounts, a vampire isn't a person at all.”

“But Ms. Calendar let him stay with Buffy!” Willow objected, distressed. “Why would she do that if Angel’s a bad guy?”

If you trust me like you say you do, you’ll know I wouldn’t ever keep something from you without good reason.

“Giles?” Willow turned to him.

There had to be some other explanation. But Jenny knowing about Angel, Jenny knowing about the supernatural, Jenny showing up in Giles’s life and being so distracting, so lovely, so absolutely wonderful—god, he should have known. There was always a catch. “I need to speak to my wife,” said Giles acidly, and hurried past the children, up the stairs, through the hallway, not bothering to look back.

Jenny was setting up her classroom, humming the song that had been on the radio when they’d driven to school that morning. She turned as he stepped into the room; her smile faded at his expression. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Angel is a vampire,” said Giles.

Jenny paled. “Did he hurt Buffy?”

“I think the time for games is very much over, Jenny,” said Giles coldly. “Tell me what you know.”

“There aren’t any—any games, Rupert, and I can’t believe you would think—tell me if he hurt Buffy,” Jenny demanded. “God, please, I—I would have told you if I’d known—” She let out a choked sob, pressing her fingers to her mouth. “She’s so small,” she whispered. “She’s sixteen. I couldn’t tell you, I should have told you—”

“Buffy is fine,” said Giles. Then, “You knew he was a vampire.”

“It’s family stuff,” whispered Jenny. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m an intelligent man.”

Jenny swallowed. She stepped around Giles, shutting the door. “I don’t want to tell you this now,” she said. “I don’t. I want to tell you because I want to tell you, not out of guilt. You know me. You know I wouldn’t do anything if I thought it would hurt you or those kids. He’s a vampire, but it’s—complicated. He isn’t like most of them.”

“If there’s any chance he’ll hurt Buffy, it would help if we had some extra information,” said Giles sharply.

“He—” Jenny stared at him, wide-eyed. “You don’t trust me,” she said quietly.

“Jenny.”

“How is my word not enough on this one?”

“He’s a vampire, Jenny!” Giles shouted. “You can’t just—just speak in vague terms and tell me to follow you blindly! Buffy’s life may very well be at stake, and you’re concerned as to whether or not I trust you enough? You need to get your bloody priorities in order before you start chiding me for not trusting the stranger I drunkenly married!”

The second after he had said it, he realized his mistake like a punch to the gut. He was treating this situation like he didn’t know Jenny, like she hadn’t bandaged his hands and kissed him in a morgue drawer and looped a cross around his neck just to keep him safe. She had given him every reason to trust her, had gone so far as to beg him to understand that she didn’t want to keep secrets from him—she had even been honest enough to admit that she had secrets in the first place. And here he was yelling at her as though he didn’t have a thousand and one secrets of his own.

But Jenny was looking at him, her expression now utterly, purposefully unreadable. “You know what?” she said. “You’re right. I’m some stranger you barely know. You have every fucking reason to think I might want to hurt the kids under my care.” She nodded, a jerky motion. “I get the message loud and clear, Rupert.”

“Jenny,” said Giles weakly. He felt sick to his stomach.

“I think we’re done here,” said Jenny, and turned on her heel, walking out of the classroom without looking back.

Giles sat down, head spinning, on the edge of Jenny’s desk.

“Giles?”

Giles looked up. Willow was standing in the doorway, looking shaken and sad. “How much of that did you hear?” he asked tiredly.

“Um, you guys weren’t exactly quiet,” said Willow uncertainly. “It’s pretty lucky that everybody else is in class. This is my TA period for Ms. Calendar, though, so—”

“Willow,” said Giles.

“I heard drunkenly married,” mumbled Willow. “I covered my ears after that, though, I promise.”

Giles removed his glasses, shakily cleaning them with his handkerchief. He couldn’t quite look at Willow as she sat down next to him. But he couldn’t leave things so ambiguous, especially not if she might tell Buffy or Xander about what she had heard. Someone, at least, deserved the truth. “We met in Las Vegas two weeks before term started,” he said quietly. “We were both laid over there. She swept me off my feet in a bar, we got ridiculously drunk, and we woke up the next day legally bound.”

Willow was silent for a very long time. It took Giles a good two minutes to look up at her, and when he did, she gave him a weak smile. “Just trying to process,” she said.

“I quite understand,” said Giles wryly.

“It’s just…” Willow sighed. “You guys click,” she said. “It’s hard for me to imagine the both of you being complete strangers to each other.”

Giles swallowed. “There are many mistakes I have made in my life,” he said. “I don’t think marrying Jenny was one of them.” This felt too much of an admission. He hastened to change the subject. “But she knew Angel was a vampire, and that—I—I was afraid she was using me. To get to Buffy. Hurt her, somehow.”

“You know she wouldn’t do that!” said Willow, all but affronted.

“I had it in my head that I didn’t know her well enough to make that judgment,” said Giles heavily.

Willow huffed. “That’s crazy talk,” she said.

Giles exhaled. “I’m well aware,” he said, rather unable to look at Willow. The thought that he had caused Jenny needless pain was so much worse than Jenny being some sort of manipulative spy. “I should talk to her,” he said finally.

“Yeah, you should,” said Willow, giving him a momentary smile. “Just give her some space. I think she’s gonna need it.”

Giving Jenny space wasn’t as hard as Giles had imagined it to be. Jenny missed absolutely all of her classes, and when Giles headed to the parking lot at the end of the day, she had already left in her car. Seeing as she’d driven him to the high school, he ended up having to walk home, which gave him an unpleasant amount of time alone with his own thoughts. By the time he finally made it up the porch steps, it was dangerously close to sunset.

Jenny opened the door for him. “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “As mad as I am at you, I shouldn’t have left you at school.”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me,” said Giles quietly, shutting the door behind him. He made sure to give Jenny a wide berth; physical space was just as important as emotional space. “I was utterly horrible to you today, Jenny. I don’t know how I can begin to make it up to you.”

“I don’t know either,” said Jenny, staring him down.

Giles shoved his hands into his pockets, mostly to stop his physical compulsion to reach out to Jenny. Though her expression was one of resolute anger, he knew he had hurt her in a way that went beyond fury. “I was afraid,” he said finally. “Of you being too good to be true.”

“Skip the Hallmark-card bullshit, Rupert,” said Jenny flatly. “Tell me something real and I’ll consider—”

“Angry, then, how’s that?” said Giles, humiliation sharpening his words. “I was angry, Jenny, that you didn’t tell me any of this. I hated that you gave me a reason to doubt you—”

“That’s your own damn fault for not listening, then!” Jenny’s eyes flashed. “I told you I wanted to tell you everything, I just needed time!”

“How much time, hmm?” Giles took a step closer, unthinking, then stopped himself. Give her some space. “What happened if we ran out of time and Buffy ended up dead in her bed? If she knew he was a vampire, she’d have never let him in and you know it—”

“This isn’t about Buffy and it never was!” Jenny shouted. “You’re angry that your wife is a complete stranger to you and you don’t know every single fucking thought in her head! Well, guess what, Rupert, that’s what you sign up for when you’re a drunken moron who marries the first pretty girl that gives you the time of day!”

Giles reeled, drawing in a sharp, shaking breath. “I suppose I deserved that,” he said finally.

Jenny froze, mouth half-open. It was clear she’d been expecting him to throw another insult at her, and the absence of it had taken her off guard. No, not off guard—oh, no, oh, Jenny—

Without even thinking about it, Giles took two running steps across the living room and tugged a sobbing Jenny into his arms. Not once had she cried like this in all the time he’d seen her, and the thought that he had caused this was unbearable. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her hair, close to tears himself. “Jenny, please, I never—never meant to hurt you like this.”

Jenny sobbed something incoherent into his shoulder that sounded very much like an insult, but she was still holding onto him very tightly.

Giles drew in a soft breath, steadied by her presence. “You’re right,” he said quietly, stroking her hair. “This was never about Buffy. I was—afraid, and don’t tell me that that’s Hallmark-card rubbish—”

“I think what I said was Hallmark-card bullshit,” said Jenny. She was still crying, but her words were now at least relatively understandable. “Making our argument a little more G-rated?”

“Bloodbath would be more apropos for what went down in that classroom,” said Giles ruefully. “Though I think we both know that we have the propensity for rather explosive fights.”

Jenny made a noise between a sob and a laugh. “You could say that, yeah,” she mumbled.

“I was afraid,” said Giles again. “That your arrival in my life was somehow not a coincidence, that…that your designs on me were meant to hurt Buffy and myself.”

“Dumbest conspiracy theory ever,” said Jenny flatly, turning her head to rest her cheek on Giles’s chest.

“It’d explain rather well why—” Giles stopped, rather afraid that she could feel his heart pounding. “The more I get to know you, the more I find myself—smitten,” he said. The words didn’t come easily. “And you’re,” he laughed a little tiredly, “quite right that these admissions shouldn’t come tinged with guilt, Jenny. I’d much rather have told you this under happier circumstances. But the fact remains that my feelings for you are rapidly becoming large enough to eclipse any nefarious intent you could have had, and that’s frightening. I am, I am a man of logic, of reason, one who shouldn’t be swayed by—”

Jenny reached up, pressing her finger to his lips. Giles shut his mouth. Lowering her hand, she looked at him steadily, then said, “I believe you, and I get it. But none of that erases what you said to me.”

“I don’t want to erase it,” said Giles quietly. “I want to learn from it. I want you to be angry at me, rightfully so, and I want to prove that I can make things up to you.”

Something in Jenny’s expression softened. “Well, that’s a damn good start,” she murmured, and placed her hands on his shoulders, steadying Giles before she kissed him.

Giles kissed her back for a moment, then pulled away. “You’re not a stranger, you know,” he said earnestly.

“No?” There was clear vulnerability in Jenny’s eyes.

“No,” said Giles softly. “It was cruel of me to say as such, not to mention entirely dishonest. I was afraid, and panicking, but that doesn’t absolve me.”

Jenny swallowed, hard. “I can understand that,” she said. “I’d probably react pretty badly too if I found out you knew stuff about vampires and had been keeping it from me.”

The guilt was like a physical pain in Giles’s stomach, but he couldn’t possibly tell her now. Things were too fragile; it would have to wait just a bit longer. Unable to respond in a way that wasn’t a lie, he kissed her instead, purposefully losing himself in the blissful wonder that was kissing Jenny Calendar—

The phone rang.

“Damn,” Giles muttered, pulling away from Jenny.

“So we’ll save the makeup sex for later, huh?” said Jenny, and gave him a small, wobbly smile.

“Don’t tease,” said Giles, smiling back as he picked up the phone. “Yes?”

“Giles, we have a problem,” came Xander’s voice. “It’s Angel.”

All of Jenny’s slowly-returning happiness had dissipated as soon as Giles had told her what had happened to Joyce. She hadn’t said a word during the drive to the hospital, and seemed either unwilling or unable to let go of Giles’s hand. Both, perhaps.

“Do you remember anything, Mom?” Giles heard Buffy saying from a nearby hospital room. Jenny swayed on her feet; he slipped an arm around her waist, steadying her, and she hid her face in his jacket.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered.

“You don’t know that,” said Jenny flatly.

“No matter what idiocy I said today, you have more than earned my trust,” said Giles quietly. “A thousand times over, Jenny, you have been here for me.”

But Jenny shook her head, pulling back to look at him. “I knew,” she said. “I knew what he was capable of and I just let him—”

“You didn’t let him do a damn thing,” said Giles firmly. “He’s a monster.”

“He’s not,” Jenny burst out. “That’s—that’s the problem, Rupert.”

“What?”

Jenny exhaled. “I’m Romani.”

This was quite literally the last thing Giles had been expecting her to say. “What does that have to do with—” Jenny gave him a look, and he coughed. “Right. Sorry. Do go on.”

“My family, generations ago, lost a daughter to Angelus,” said Jenny, never looking away from Giles. “A favorite daughter. He killed her, and so they cursed him, and I’m here to make sure that he’s still suffering from that curse.”

“All right,” said Giles slowly. This made quite a lot of sense. “But—does this curse mean that he isn’t a danger to others?”

“The curse means that he has a soul,” said Jenny. “His soul. His moral compass, which should tell him right from wrong. The idea was to, to make him feel the guilt of all the terrible things he’d done—keep him suffering for eternity.” She exhaled, unsmiling. “I don’t like that idea,” she said. “It’s endless, pointless vengeance. I wanted to do as little of my job as possible, because he seemed guilty enough as it was.”

“If he had a soul,” said Giles, “then why on earth did he go after Joyce?”

Jenny’s hands tightened around his forearms and her head fell forward. “I don’t know!” she sobbed out. “I was the only one who knew what he was and I should have told you, you’re my husband, we could have stopped this somehow—”

“Jenny,” Giles whispered, gathering her into his arms. “This is in no way your fault. You had no idea this could have happened…” He trailed off, a lump in his throat. “And there I was blaming you for all of it. I’m so—”

“I’m gonna punch you out if you say sorry, Rupert,” said Jenny into his chest.

Startled, Giles laughed. Jenny raised her head, giving him a small, uncertain smile. “Then I’ll withhold my apologies for the time being, Jenny,” he said.

A strange expression crossed Jenny’s face.

“What is it?”

“It’s just—” Jenny bit her lip. “Janna,” she said.

“I’m sorry?”

“My given name is Janna,” said Jenny. “But it—I—Jenny Calendar’s the lady who married you, you know? I like being her.” She smiled exhaustedly. “You’re the simplest fucking thing in my life, Rupert,” she said. “The rest of it’s a mess, but…” She trailed off.

Giles could think of nothing less simple than being a Watcher’s wife. But the concept of telling Jenny the truth, of possibly hurting her more after she had just been so vulnerable with him, was worse by far than keeping this secret just a little while longer. “I am happy to be whatever you need,” he said instead, and kissed the top of her head.

Jenny snuggled into his arms. “We should tell Buffy,” she murmured.

“I quite agree,” said Giles, and let go of her, just enough for her to take his arm instead. Together, they entered the room, finding Buffy, Willow, and Xander all gathered around Joyce Summers’s bed.

“Ms. Calendar!” Willow perked up. “You’re looking—”

“—kinda awful, actually,” said Xander matter-of-factly. “Finally realize you’re married to the dorkiest man on the planet?”

“I also grade your assignments, Xander,” said Jenny, fixing him with a look that immediately shut him up.

“Are you another doctor?” Joyce asked Giles blearily.

“Oh, um, no, my, my wife and I are faculty at Sunnydale High School,” Giles explained. “We came to, ah, wish you a speedy recovery.”

“Boy, the teachers really do care in this town,” said Joyce, grinning a little.

Buffy’s face was tight. “Get some rest now,” she said, pressing a kiss to her mother’s cheek and leading Willow and Xander out of the room. Giles and Jenny followed. “She’s going to be okay,” she informed Giles. “They gave her some iron—”

“Buffy, Jenny has some important information about Angel,” said Giles, squeezing Jenny’s hand.

Buffy looked a little surprised. “So you do know him,” she said.

“I do know him,” Jenny confirmed. “And…I think you all deserve to know why.”

Jenny’s explanation led to Buffy deciding that there was a factor she was missing regarding Angel’s attack on her mother, which led to Giles asking a few more questions about the friend who Joyce had let into the house. This in turn revealed that it was Darla who had attacked Buffy’s mother, and so Buffy went after Darla, and Angel ended up helping Buffy finally take Darla down.

Giles found out about Darla’s death much, much later. He had instructed Buffy to take the night off, as Darla clearly wanted Buffy to go after Angel. He would later discover that Buffy had completely disregarded his words, as always, but currently, he was carefully shepherding Jenny into their house, then shutting the door behind him, hanging his coat on the coat tree by the door. “I’m sorry about the direction tonight took,” he said.

Jenny didn’t answer. Without a word, she grasped at his sleeve, fingers brushing his wrist.

“Jenny?”

“You didn’t have to be as kind as you were,” she said, and gave him a small, wobbly smile.

“You’re giving me much too much credit,” said Giles wryly. “If you’ll recall, I was completely horrible to you when first I found out—”

Jenny shook her head. “You didn’t have all the facts,” she said. “And now here you are with all of them, and you’re taking them in stride. I…” She trailed off. “You’re almost too good to be true,” she said. “I feel like there’s got to be some catch here, but there isn’t. There’s just you.”

Her fingers were drawing quiet, deliberate circles against the skin of his wrist, and the way she was looking at him brought back a sudden flash of memory—

“—have you heard that thing about annulments?” his new wife was saying, eyes half-lidded.

“Can’t recall,” said Giles, and took a sip of the horribly fruity drink from the hotel room mini-bar. It was the last alcoholic beverage left, or he most likely wouldn’t be drinking it at all.

“That thing where if you don’t consummate the marriage, it can be annulled like—” she snapped her fingers, “—that?”

“Don’t think that’s how it works,” Giles corrected, attempting to sound as dignified as possible even through his inebriation. “It’s more…more like, if a marriage is carried out while one ‘r both of the participants are…are unsound of body or mind—”

Jenny straddled his lap and kissed him. In his enthusiasm to return the kiss, Giles spilled the fruity drink all over the bedsheets—

“—come here,” Giles whispered, and kissed her. Jenny made a soft, shaky noise against his mouth and kissed him back—

—the sheets would have to be changed, he was certain, though he felt ridiculous for fixating on such a thing when he was married, for the first time ever, and wasn’t it romantic, meeting his wife and knowing right off that she was the one he wanted to be with? Marrying her because he didn’t want to waste a day? Jenny pushed at his shoulders until he’d fallen back into the pillows, and then he heard a sound like tearing fabric.

“Shit,” she laughed, pulling back, and Giles saw that the purple dress had ripped. “Okay, okay, hold on, I need to—”

“Take it off,” Giles suggested.

“Mmm, sounds good,” Jenny agreed—

“—only I wouldn’t want to pressure you into anything you aren’t ready for,” Giles murmured, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against hers.

Jenny laughed softly. “Are you kidding?” she whispered. “Even after you found out I’m in Sunnydale watching a vampire with a soul, you’re still worrying about me? I can handle the decisions I make, Rupert. Kiss me.”

“No decision has been overtly made, Jenny,” Giles reminded her gently. “I did mean what I say about consent being important in this situation.”

Jenny smiled a little. “I want to sleep with you,” she said softly. “I want to be close to you.”

Giles studied Jenny, a lump in his throat. He was more than aware that Jenny’s vulnerability was something he hadn’t truly earned. Taking advantage of it under false pretenses didn’t feel right, no matter how very deeply he returned her feelings. The truth had to come out now, before they became even closer. “Jenny,” he began. “I have to tell you—”

Jenny exhaled, almost a laugh. “Whatever it is,” she said, “can it please wait? I’ve wanted—I want this. And I’m not stupid, Rupert, I know there’s still gonna be stuff I don’t know about you. That’s okay. I just wanna be with you right now.”

Giles wavered—

—his hands fluttered nervously to rest at her waist, gentle and careful. Out of the dress, she looked so much smaller, less polished and perfect. He felt as though he might hurt her if he wasn’t paying enough attention.

“I’m not a china doll, husband,” she said, trying out the word with a giggle. “Husband. God. Not gonna get used to that any time soon.”

“Do you regret it?” he asked.

She didn’t hesitate. “No.”

His hands gripped her waist as he kissed her—

—and kissed her, and kissed her, and carried her into the bedroom, overbalancing in the doorway so that they half-fell onto the bed. There was a sudden sense of urgency to Jenny’s kisses, one that Giles could understand. Their connection still felt so tenuous, especially after how easily he had been able to believe that there might be some—

“Catch,” he realized, and laughed a little.

“Huh?” Jenny blinked at him, moving up to lean back against the headboard. Her disheveled hair and half-unbuttoned blouse were bringing back much more explicit memories of their wedding night.

“I find it so hard to believe that you can just be you,” said Giles softly. “Much as you feel like there has to be a catch for me just being me. The likelihood of me marrying someone so, so kind, so brave, not just a belligerent stranger who microwaves plastic—”

“Now that’s the way I want people to describe me all the time,” said Jenny, and while her words were playful, her smile was something more akin to loving. “Come here, Rupert.”

“Yes, dear,” said Giles, a low purr, and her answering shiver was delicious as he moved up the bed to press her into the pillows.

#fic #very really married #calendiles #:D !!!!!!!!!!!!

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tessatechaitea · 5 years

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Team Titans #17

Team Titans is an anagram of Fuck Donald Trump.

The joke in the caption relies on regular readers knowing that I keep doing anagrams of the title except this time the anagram isn't an anagram at all! I know some people probably didn't even have to double check, especially the really observant ones who instinctively knew that "Team Titans" did not contain an "F". But the other point of that caption is to make readers who both enjoy Donald Trump and the stupid shit I write about comic books suddenly realize that they don't like what I write at all. In half a second, they'll realize how stupidly wrong they were about their opinions of this blog. In a half second after that, they'll admit that they've always thought I was a dumb asshole who has never written anything clever in his entire life. A few seconds after that, they'll probably be jerking off to another Hillary Clinton rant by Sean Hannity. We all have to face the consequences of our beliefs and actions. One of the consequences of supporting the modern GOP lampreys attached to the tits and ass fat of Donald Trump is that you don't get to enjoy myriad entertainments. Pretty much all you've got is Last Man Standing and reruns of Home Improvement. Of course, you could try to ignore what you've now learned because I probably won't mention it again for quite some time. But it's also possible I might pull at your victim status trigger again by the next paragraph! Speaking of triggers, the NRA can eat their own filthy asshole. Unless they like doing that! They seem like the kind of organization that would like doing that! And I don't mind kink-shaming people who love to eat their own filthy assholes because the Venn Diagram of people who can eat their own assholes and people who love to eat filthy assholes is nonexistent.

This whole nineties Teen Titans thing went off the rails a tiny bit when they introduced a rapist version of Nightwing with a nipple ring.

Is it weird that I have an unrepentant love for Lobo and a slightly repentant love for Deathstork but I feel like I'd be crossing a line having any kind of love for Deathwing? I get why people love Lobo because he's over the top and his space jeans craft a nice package in his nether area. Plus the chains! So penis stiffening! And Deathstork was cool enough to have gotten an underage girl he fucked killed without the entire comic book community feeling disgusted by him. I think his old age helped. Deathstork is like a beloved grandfather who tells such incredible stories from his youth that nobody minds that 23% of them are racist. But if somebody told me Deathwing was their favorite character, I'd be frightened. Although I guess they could mitigate that fright by explaining they like the Rebirth Deathwing and then I'd just be, "Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were gay. Cool!" That probably came across as me using gay as a synonym for lame but it was meant to express my feelings that Rebirth Deathwing should be a gay icon, if he isn't already. Like the Babadook. In that picture above, Deathwing is coming out of a clockmaker's closet (so maybe he's a gay icon too?), probably to rape the clockmaker (Oh yeah! He's totally rapey, so probably not a gay icon!). Now I'm wondering why Superman doesn't stop more rapes? Or why he doesn't commit himself to stopping all rapes? He could end rape forever with his powers! I guess he just doesn't have the commitment to end rape. You know how fast rape would have been stopped if Bruce Wayne's parents had been raped in that alley? Considering how many murders still happen in Gotham City even though Batman has dedicated his life to stopping injustice, I'm guessing it wouldn't have been fast at all. Batman is a huge failure. Meanwhile back at the Long Ranch, Nightrider (as opposed to Deathrider, his rapey twin), recovers from being shot by the neighbor. Granted, the neighbor also tracked down the wounded vampire to rescue him. He didn't realize he was shooting a living, feeling creature. He just thought he was killing a stupid bat! I hope no bats read this blog! They might think I'm being insensitive to bats! And, I mean, I am! But I don't want them to know that! They might start sending me memes of their creepy little faces saying things like, "Bats have rights too!" and "Bats cry more than most human males!" and "Today is the worst day of the rest of your terrible life, motherfucker!" That last one would make a good motivational poster for the lunchroom at most offices.

Wait. Is "vampire" a derogatory term?!

I just watched a Kids React video on YouTube about whether or not "hell" was a curse word. Sydney took the opportunity to say as many near curse words as she thought she could get away with. I'm pretty sure if I were young or hip or with it (which I obviously am not as noted by my usage of "hip" and "with it"), I would now use the word stan somehow. Why is there a Kids React for "How to Cure a Hangover"? What the fuck is wrong with the Fine Brothers?! Here are some more great ideas for your dumb Internet show: "Kids React to Joe Pesci's Death Scene in Goodfellas" "Kids React to Satanic Rituals" "Kids React to Seeing Their Parents Murdered" "Kids React to Goat Testicles" "Kids React to Their First Blow Job" I should stop listing these because I could do it all day and also I think some of them would actually work. The "How to Cure a Hangover" video isn't actually a Kids React; it's an advice episode featuring all ages of reactors. The first question they must give advice for is "How do I get someone to kiss me on New Year's Eve?" According to a lot of the answers, nobody seemed to give much of a shit about consent in 2016. Although my stan Sydney is all, "Get your parents to kiss you!" Oh my God she owns the world. The next question Sydney answers is "How do I touch a rainbow?" She says to get the biggest ladder in the world so she might be kind of dumb. I mean, a ladder doesn't have to be that big to touch a rainbow! Although she is just a kid so I'll let her slide on this answer. I suppose it's more important that she gives a cute answer than a correct one. For "How do I cure a hangover?", Sydney says, "Why are you asking me this question?" After which, I'm assuming, she walked off camera and kicked both Fine Brothers in the balls at the same time. Okay, back to Team Titans! The neighbor tries to apologize by explaining that he wouldn't have tried to murder the bat if he'd known it wasn't a disgusting bat. Terry Long, the worst character in a comic book full of terrible characters (and I'm including Deathwing here!), blames the victim and Terra's angst meter tops out. She goes into a blind Tumblr rage without any regard to the neighbor's apology, explaining how Nightrider was only acting on his true nature. The row disturbs Donna's baby which becomes the worst issue of the night.

"Whith"? I've never noticed Donna's weird accent before this issue! I also love how she thrusts her baby at the others to show that they've upset it.

While the majority of the team take Nightrider to STAR Labs for treatment (can't they just let him suck the baby a little bit?), Mirage and Terra stay behind to protect Terry and the baby. Well, Terra stays behind to protect them. Mirage still suffers from the trauma of being raped while none of the others seem to give a shit. She's decided to run away and have her baby somewhere else. Hopefully she won't have the baby in the town where Deathwing grew up because you know what that would mean, right?! Ugh, I can't even type it! Mirage was raped by her own time traveling son! Okay, it wasn't that hard to type after all.

Out in the yard, four elementals are approaching to kill Terra: an elemental of glaciers, an elemental of shit, an elemental of men's farts, and an elemental of lady's farts.

Over at STAR Labs, Doctor Velcro determines Nightrider's life can't be saved because he's already dead. He's a vampire! And Doctor Velcro knows because he's a not just a vampire specialist but a vampire himself! He's one of the Creature Commandos! His prescription to keep Nightrider alive is human blood. At this declaration, the rest of the Team Titans begin acting like Nightrider is a goner. So their first thought is that he's going to die if he doesn't drink human blood? Not one of them is all, "Drink from my veins, buddy! As much as you need! Well, maybe not too much! You know, just a taste! But there are like eight of us, so you can probably get your fill by sampling us all!" Fucking jerks.

The 90s had some pretty fucking nihilistic AIDS public service adverts.

As Terra protects New York as a Team Titan by defending herself against elementals that want to kill her, the rest of the Team Titans defend New York by battling a bunch of electric beings in thongs that want to kidnap Killowat. I laugh in your face, Councilwoman Alderman! Look at all the good these Titans are doing for the city! The energy beings easily kidnap Killowat because he only had the majority of the Team Titans and Battalion defending him. Terra, all alone, just barely manages not to die in her battle right before a newly human Prester Jon (back from the Terminus Agenda!) manages to save her.

This might be my favorite panel from 1994. In case you couldn't tell by his idiotic hands or his stupid baby, that's Terry Long under the clock.

The person who kidnapped Killowat turns out to be the clockmaker's old beau, the one that taught her to work on futuristic Titans' communicators. He was a member of the Team Titans named Lazarium but he seems to have been a spy working for Lord Chaos. The leader of the Team Titans (identity still unknown!) sent him and his team back in time to die. But he survived and now he owns a good chunk of the media world. His name might as well be Rupert Murdoch because he has a media empire that's trying to turn the world against heroes and he has his own sexual harassment problems in his organization, seeing as how Deathwing works for him. Team Titans #17 Rating: It took seventeen issues but I'm finally interested in this comic book! The Lazarium story arc has momentum and ties in to the overall history of the team, hopefully finally separating them from the Titans book for a bit. I know it still relies on garbage time travel theories but it also threatens to expose Killowat as a huge racist piece of shit! That should be exciting! It's also slightly heavy on implied rape which I didn't mean to add as one of the reasons I'm enjoying the book but just as a simple fact to say, "Look. This was a comic book from 1994! Rape was an important plot point to raise tension and pull on the emotional heartstrings of an audience that didn't quite understand how writers were just using rape as a lazy way of creating drama and emotional tenstion!" What I'm trying to say is: B+! Good work, everybody!

#Team Titans #DC Comics #Teen Titans #Comic Book Review

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ignissa · 6 years

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I’d love to get a dialogue going on what everyone thinks of the Sci-fi aspect of Detroit: Become Human

I mean it makes sense that you'd program things like pain, fear and emotions into an android; they play the same role there as they do in humans. It's no good spending good money on something that lacks any semblance of damage avoidance, and regardless of if it is "painful" in the same sense as human pain, if you program something to understand that "not fulfilling your goal" is bad and that damage and death means "not fulfilling your goal", then you've basically created a being that can feel fear and specifically fear death, seeing it as the ultimate failure. I read recently about a Tetris-playing AI that, as the game got faster and increasingly difficult to the point of eventually being unbeatable, figured out that it could just pause the game, to buy time to decide on its next move; eventually it reached a point where it never unpaused, since it knew it couldn't win and knew there was a negative score attached to losing. Even though the Tetris-playing AI clearly has no complex emotion, I don't think it's unreasonable to describe its actions as motivated by the "fear" of losing.

As for emotions, humans evolved emotions for social reasons, so they could better understand and fit in with their communities; DBH’s androids were designed to do the same, so it stands to reason that they'd need something equivalent to human emotion in order to process what is ultimately a very human-centric world. The androids in this universe appear to have been designed with an emphasis on understanding and copying humans and the world around them, and are a little bit like children in that regard. Understanding is a large part of empathy; once you understand what somebody thinks and feels you can make a judgement about whether those thoughts or feelings are justified and you can think back to a time you have felt the same.

In humans the reason empathy evolved is to provide us with a means of better predicting the behaviour of the people in our communities; if you can put yourself in someone else's shoes and think "what would I do in their position", assuming you understand what their position actually is you're much more likely to predict intentions and actions. Androids would almost certainly need some means of using non-verbal cues (i.e. body language, past experience, reading between the lines, evaluating mood and tension, understanding nuances in language like sarcasm and metaphors, analysing someone's physical condition) to more accurately interpret orders. Once an android and a human have some shared experience, I can definitely see the android using that experience as another data point; once it gets to the point of an android relating their own experience to that of a human, you've basically got a being capable of empathy (again, whether it's truly the same experience a human would feel is largely a moot point).

I can easily imagine that the longer the androids spend around humans, the more likely they are to attach human words ("anger", "hatred", "fear", "pain") to their own experiences, and the more likely they are to place value on their own experiences. Their memories are valuable because (at least initially) they help them play their roles, and once they’re able to relate these experiences to human ones (which presumably they’re programmed to respect and value) they may end up placing inherent value on such things. Their lives too are valuable because they help them play their roles. Although I think the idea of robots rebelling as they do in this game is a little far-fetched, I don't think it's too difficult to make the leap from "androids believing that their lives and experiences have value" to "androids believe themselves to have inherent value".

I think the game hints that fear and empathy are the major components of deviancy; Kara ignores orders because she relates to Alice's fear, Connor can end up becoming more and more unstable due to repeated interactions with androids (like him) behaving like humans, Markus was raised to see himself as almost an equal. Among the deviants it’s more blatent: Daniel and the second nameless deviant create their own objectives because they are in direct danger of being destroyed and because they value their own lives enough to see that it isn’t fair; Rupert, the android with all the birds, appears to have empathy for those birds; we know little of North’s motivations but the other Eden Club deviants are motivated by fear and their love for eachother, etc.

If I had to put a name on what the ra9 virus actually spreads, it could be something like the idea of justice or hope rather than simple "freedom". Then again, while I think I've outlined why this universe could make sense, I don't think David Cage and co. necessarily had the foresight to really make it work in that way, and instead opted to lean more on the "social and civil rights" aspect than the Sci-fi, which left the world feeling detailed but overall rather weak, and like most Cage games DBH feels very preachy. It's basically a moral aesop about slavery without real slaves and aimed at an audience which learns very little from a lesson which is already readily accepted (slavery is bad, in case you haven’t noticed), when it (in my opinion) would have worked better as an exploration of what it means to be valuable - to have inherent worth regardless of our capacity to follow orders - and why it is that intelligence, empathy and emotions are worth respecting even if they come from non-human sources.

The idea of "humanity" and a desire for freedom spreading through the robot population like a virus really weakens the idea that the androids were always people, or at least always had the potential to be people, and removes a lot of their agency as individuals. I think, even though Markus's storyline wouldn't have quite worked, the game would have been better if it had just focused on the more personal stories of awakening and had itself respected androids as living beings (in the same way it wants us to respect them), rather than treating them as nameless faceless bullet-fodder, beyond the main cast.

But I’d love to hear what others have to say on the topic. I don’t necessarily want to focus on Cage’s other work, controversial as it is, but I’ll add that, while he clearly has the ability to write and tell a story, where he often falls short is the nuance and logic behind what is happening.

#dbh #detroit become human #detroit #analysis #david cage

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the-desolated-quill · 6 years

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And The Winner Is... - Inside No. 9 blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

After the spine chilling depravity of the previous episode, And The Winner Is... offers a welcome respite. A jury of actors and filmmakers deciding who should win the Best Actress Award. Nice and simple. By that I mean the episode of course. The decision itself is anything but nice and simple. And The Winner Is... dives headfirst into the internal politics of the television industry and no one comes out looking good.

On a first viewing, this episode seems rather tame. Especially compared to the previous episode. There’s nothing truly dark or sinister going on here. The characters aren’t harbouring any disturbing secrets. This is a fairly straight forward, comedic episode. But the episode does serve another purpose. Mainly to serve as a scathing critique of how the industry actually works.

I know many fans are disappointed that Inside No. 9 hasn’t received the same amount of recognition as Charlie Brooker’s Black Mirror. But in some ways, And The Winner Is... provides a counter argument as to why award recognition is not necessary for a show like this. Film and television awards should be a great honour, but the truth is they’re not because of a lot of behind the scenes antics. It’s this that’s spelt out throughout the course of this episode. Steve Pemberton’s character Giles is quick to remind everyone that that they are to judge the nominees based solely on their performance, but at no point do the jury ever truly do so. One nominee is rejected simply because she won the award several times before. Another is rejected because she had sexual relations with one of the jurors. The acting ability of the performers very rarely comes up and this is sadly true to life. Awards have more to do with politics than they do with genuine talent. A few years ago, for example, there was a ton of controversy surrounding the film 12 Years A Slave winning an Academy Award for Best Picture when it was revealed two of the voters never actually saw the film. So they didn’t pick 12 Years A Slave because they thought it was a genuinely good film. They just thought that’s the kind of film people would want to see win.

It’s through the episode’s stellar characterisation and the cast’s performances that the flaws of the industry become apparent. Zoe Wanamaker stole my heart the show for me. She plays the domineering diva so well and got loads of laughs. Her character ostensibly is the 12 Years A Slave voter. She hasn’t seen any of the candidates’ performances and is merely going on what she believes people would want to see. There’s also Rupert, played by Kenneth Cranham, who is there supposedly to bring his acting experience to the jury, but in reality provides very little insight or help. Turns out he has a conflict of interest, having had sexual relations with one of the nominees, and he doesn’t care for the other nominees, using petty excuses to disguise bigoted views on race and class. Meanwhile screenwriter Clive, played by Reece Shearsmith, doesn’t give too shits about any of the nominees. He just wants to suck up to fellow juror Gordon in the hopes that he’ll direct his script. (This got quite a few belly laughs from me. No one does crawling arse-kissing quite like Shearsmith).

Out of all of them, Noel Clarke’s character Gordon seems to be the only one who seems to somewhat care about what he’s doing. He clearly has great respect for his craft and offers insightful comments for each of the nominees. However it soon becomes apparent that’s not why he was invited. He’s merely there to fulfil a cynical diversity quota. They deny it of course, but Rupert’s comments do have a slight ring of truth to them. Movies and TV shows will often try to include at least one POC not because the producers genuinely want to encourage diversity and inclusivity, but rather to appeal to an increasingly liberal market, to the point where the talent of the individual in question doesn’t even factor into it. So long as they’re not white, it’s considered a win. Another box ticked. (Quick side note, please don’t misinterpret what I’m saying. Obviously diversity in media is extremely important and needs to be encouraged, but if you’re disingenuous about it, for example like JK Rowling with regards to Professor Dumbledore and LGBT representation, merely using diversity as a means to feather your own nest and win more brownie points for yourself, people will notice).

By far the most damning criticism of the industry comes in the form of Fenella Woolgar’s character June. A TV critic and journalist. I find her character most interesting of all for a number of reasons. She enjoys the perks of the creative industry without actually contributing anything to it. But the thing is she could contribute something to the industry if she tried. The purpose of critique isn’t just to recommend films and TV shows to the audience, but to also help inform creators about their own work. Offer helpful advice that a filmmaker or producer can take on board and keep in mind for their next project. Or at least that should be the purpose of constructive criticism, but nowadays that’s rarely the case. Instead critics have essentially become another arm in the industry’s PR department. There’s less interest in offering helpful feedback and more interest in providing an entertaining think-piece for the reader in order to generate buzz about the film or show in question. June is the very epitome of that. Just take a look at the conversation she has with Jackie (played by Phoebe Sparrow). Both wrote reviews about The Great British Bake Off, but whereas Jackie, a member of the public (or so we initially think), offers genuine opinions and feedback, June takes the opportunity to use her own review in order to boast her own wit, writing it in the style of a recipe. And as the episode goes along, the cracks in her character begin to show. She gets to enjoy the privileges of the industry and meet all these famous people, but those same people couldn’t give two shits about her. She has a thankless job. When she writes negative reviews, the other characters belittle her and when she writes positive reviews, they don’t give her the time of day because why should they? She made them look good. She validated their own egos. That’s all they want from her.

Jackie is the only person whose opinions seem genuine. She’s a member of the public. She has no ulterior motive. Yes the reasons behind her opinions may be thin, but they’re a darn sight more honest than the rest of the jury’s. And yet the jury can’t help but patronise her at every opportunity. Even Giles, who seems like a nice and well meaning person, doesn’t seem to take her seriously. When she leaves in tears near the end, my heart genuinely broke. At the end of the day, the most important people in this industry are the viewing public and they have forgotten that.

And then there’s the final twist. Turns out Jackie wasn’t a member of the public at all, but one of the nominees trying to influence the vote. This I didn’t see coming and I applaud both Phoebe Sparrow and the makeup department for doing such a good job disguising it. The episode is even ballsy enough to show a closeup of a photo of the nominee and I legitimately didn’t connect the dots until right at the end. I know some other people predicted the twist, and well done if you did spot it, but honest to God I was completely fooled. I legitimately saw no similarities between Jackie and the nominee.

In short, And The Winner Is... is a sharply written and well executed satire that doesn’t hold back on its criticism of the industry and I enjoyed it immensely.

#and the winner is...#inside no 9 #steve pemberton #reece shearsmith #bbc #review #spoilers

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