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pop-culturereference · 4 years

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Onward and Upward

ao3

Summary: At his internship with Hawks, Izuku was starting to feel burnt out.

He hadn't considered that Hawks was, too.

For @hawksweek2020 Day 2: Wholesome Gen

Characters: Hawks, Midoriya Izuku

Rating: G

Izuku’s clumsy maneuvering was not enough to keep up with Hawks as he zipped in and out of the traffic below. Instead, he kept himself high above with blasts from his gauntlets and looked for the streak of red wings to catch his eye. He saw it between one gust and the next and cut his action short to let himself fall. Right before landing, he flicked the air one more time so he wouldn’t crack the cement. His heavy boots clunked, but no cracks appeared. Victory! His control in the air was getting better. Still nowhere near Hawks’s, of course, but maybe even just straggling behind him these past 3 weeks of the internship was enough to learn what he needed.

A red feather flew by, and Izuku startled. He’d spent just a second to celebrate his progress, and he’d lost sight of Hawks. Feathers flew up from where they’d been handcuffing a villain, autographing everything from receipts to skin, and making swirling shapes for a bus of children. Izuku leapt up and flung himself after them. He groaned in frustration as the school of feathers took a sharp turn and disappeared, leaving him to skid to a stop on top of a building and run from edge to edge, looking for the feathers in desperation.

In the end, he couldn’t find them, and plopped himself down on a propane tank. He’d get going in a second, but he’d already fallen far enough behind that a five minute break to catch his breath was really no big deal, so he pulled out phone and scrolled through his messages. Uraraka had sent him a selfie of her and her mentor, Axis, the Flip Hero. They were standing upside down on a hot air balloon hundreds of feet in the air. Uraraka’s hair fell at her shoulders instead of hanging toward the ground. Cool! He responded with a “looks fun!!!” and switched to his notes app to type in some quick thoughts about Axis’s quirk. He answered his mom’s texts before moving on to Todoroki’s.

“What!?” he yelled when he saw the picture Todoroki had sent him. It was Hawks, talking with the police alongside Endeavor, mid-gesture with one hand in the air and the other pushing his visor onto his forehead. The next message read “where are you??”

He immediately replied with “SEND ME YOUR LOCATION ASAP” and shot to his feet to start heading east, the general direction of Endeavor’s agency.

Izuku wondered if Tokoyami’s internship last year was like this. Surely not—right?—or Tokoyami would have warned him! His legs ached, his eyes were dry and itchy from the wind, and his throat and chest burned from sucking in more air than he was used to, even after three weeks of it. He was camping out at Hawks’s agency for the duration of the internship, and every morning when he stumbled, sore and bleary, into the kitchen to grab his yogurt, Hawks’s sidekicks would smile at him sympathetically. Had everyone known Hawks was like this except for Izuku? He’d thought Gran Torino went too fast for him, but Hawks was on a whole new level.

His first day at the agency had been a little slower, Hawks showing him around and asking him about himself, where he was from, did he like the dorms at UA, oh yeah it’s a good thing those teachers prioritized the safety of students, that dang league of villains, did he have any idea why Shigaraki had it out for him and Kacchan specifically? And what was his favorite flavor of yogurt so they could keep it stocked in the fridge? Then they left on patrol, and Izuku had been going full speed just trying to keep up ever since.

His phone pinged with the location and he adjusted his course, mumbling a mantra of please still be there please still be there under his breath. How did Hawks get so far so quickly? Izuku pushed himself harder, not wanting to be left behind the rest of the day if he got there and Hawks was already gone.

When Izuku skidded in, short of breath and clumsy with fatigue, Todoroki greeted him with a blunt “Hello,” and Hawks greeted him with “Midoriya-kun! There you are!” and a laugh.

Hawks ducked his head and leaned toward Todoroki, dramatically shielding his mouth with a hand, and said, in a whisper louder than Izuku’s normal speaking voice, “Hey, Todoroki-kun, did I break him? He’s got that blank look. Like a rebooting computer.”

“That’s just how he always looks,” responded Todorki with no reaction to Hawks’s joking except to slide his eyes over to the side.

“What! What do I look like?”

“Adorable is what you look like!” Hawks said with a smile that softened the sharpness of his eyes and rounded his cheeks. “Come ‘ere! Smile!” he chimed as he held his phone out for a selfie. Izuku did, but was certain he looked anxious or shy. “You too, Endeavor-san, Todoroki-kun!”

Neither smiled or moved closer to be in the picture. “Aw, you’re no fun,” Hawks continued as he started to walk by them. At least he’s walking, Izuku thought as he scurried to catch up, and not flying or leaping or spinning. “Thanks anyway, you two. I’ll fax those right over when I get back to my agency. Or, well, tomorrow morning, actually. See ya!”

Oh no. Hawks was going to take off again. Izuku’s stomach jumped in dread, and then they were off. This time, Hawks went above the buildings instead of weaving between them, and that, at least, Izuku could keep up with. Up here, it didn’t matter if he went slightly too fast to control: there was nothing to crash into: no buildings, no pedestrians, and no pavement. Hawks, ahead of him, had his visor down over his eyes again and kept his body streamlined with an occasional flap of his wings. He rode the wind with casual grace, while Izuku jerked himself along with his air blasts.

By the time Hawks lowered himself onto a roof, Izuku’s hair was no longer curly— they’d been going fast enough that the wind had blown the curls straight out. When he thunked down next to Hawks, it flopped into his eyes. He pushed it back up, his fingers pulling through tangles and the remains of little bugs.

“Good job, Deku!” Hawks told him with a pat on the back. “You’ve got the speed and power, now you just need some precision.”

Izuku already knew that, but couldn’t help smiling anyway. “Thanks! I’ve been working hard!”

“Yeah, you’re a good intern. The best, actually,” Hawks beamed at him. “You and Tokoyami.”

“I– Thanks!”

Hawks was still smiling as he told Izuku, “Okay. You wait here at my agency. I’ve got some things to do; I’ll see you when I get back tonight.”

“Wha-” Izuku looked around and realized that were indeed standing on top of Hawks’s agency office. “Oh.” His enthusiasm, which had been soaring only a moment ago, collapsed and started to drip down to the street below. “Okay!” he called after Hawks, who was already flying away.

Izuku took the roof entrance, and the sidekicks and secretaries grinned at him as he trudged past.

“Deku!” called Lava, Hawks’s sidekick with the ability to attract and absorb flame. “I like the hairdo!”

Despite his low mood, Izuku grinned back at him. “It’s the latest style, you know!” He reached the door to his room, then had a thought and backtracked. “Oh, hey, do you have any projects here I can work on? Hawks, uh… ”

“Oh, sure thing! Here, come help me with this write-up.”

This is good, Izuku told himself as he crunched through the report, this is good. Yes, he needed to work on his “flying,” but this was good! He was learning the nitty gritty of hero agencies, the not-so-glamorous work behind the scenes. This was good.

The work was simple, plugging in numbers and words to a pre-existing template, so his mind wandered. He thought of his internship with Gran Torino and how much the veteran had taught him. He remembered Endeavor, who’d trained him and Kacchan because Todoroki made him. With Nighteye, he’d at least learned from Lemillion.

Why did Hawks request an internship if he wasn’t even going to <em>try</em> to mentor him? He was happy that his friends were excited about their internships and learning a lot, but he ached a little bit too. Deku, left behind again, it seemed. Don’t need to worry about him, he’s quirkless anyway, he’s not worth the effort.

Izuku stomped down on his spiraling thoughts. It’s not like that, he told himself. Hawks doesn’t think that, he’s just… busy. But, was that any better? Either way, he was missing his opportunity and falling further and further behind his classmates, and he couldn’t let All Might down like that.

Izuku braced his shoulders with resolve. As soon as he saw Hawks, he would confront him. Nothing disrespectful, just standing his ground to be taken seriously or sent to intern somewhere else. Hawks couldn’t take issue with that because he’d done the same thing at the hero billboards.

Izuku completed the write-up with vigor and handed it to Lava with a request for a new task. He repeated that process several times, until Lava didn’t have anything for him except, “Ummm, lemme see… you could sweep? The broom’s in the kitchen closet.”

When he finished sweeping and returned to Lava, he was stopped before he could even open his mouth. “Nuh-uh! You’re finished. It’s dinnertime. Half the office has left already, you can go ahead and call it a day.”

“But, I, uh, I needed to talk to Hawks.”

Lava grabbed a post-it and wrote on it in barely legible loops. “No worries,” he said, standing up and strolling to the door to Hawks’s office. “He’ll see this when he gets back, and you’re staying here at the agency, so he can pop right over and talk to you. Now shoo!”

Izuku dragged his feet down the stairs back to his room. He waited, but Hawks didn’t come. After a couple hours, he went back up to the office area, but it was locked and the lights were off. Eventually, he forced himself to accept that Hawks wasn’t going to come talk to him and went to bed.

In the morning, Hawks was sitting haphazardly on the backrest of a chair in the lounge, his wings behind him touching the floor. He jangled an empty energy drink can, then shot it into the small waste bin like a basketball.

“Deku!” he called with a grin, jumping down. “You ready to head out?” Hawks coughed and pounded a fist on his chest. “Ugh, breathed in a lot of smoke last night.”

They left through the roof door as usual, but this time before Hawks could take off, Izuku stopped him.

“I, uh, can we talk, real quick?”

Hawks relaxed from his takeoff stance, leaning back and putting his hands in his pockets. “Oh, yeah. I saw Lava’s note, but it was already super late when I got back and I figured you’d probably be asleep already. What’s up?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

“Ummm, well, uh, I. I know that you’re the hero who’s a bit too fast, that’s what they say, but, I keep getting left behind.” Now that he’d gotten started, Izuku remembered his resolve and forgot his awkward nervousness. “I came to this internship because I wanted to learn from you, but I’ve barely had the chance. I’m requesting either that you start to mentor me for real, or that you place me with another hero for the rest of the internship.” Izuku paused for a beat, then blushed. “Uh, sir,” he added with a hasty bow.

Hawks blinked, surprised. “C’mere,” he said, gesturing with his head toward the ledge. “Let’s have a seat.”

Hawks leaned back on his hands and dangled his legs over the side to kick his feet back and forth. As Izuku sat down next to him, Hawks turned away to cough into the collar of his jacket, which Izuku noticed was a little singed.

Apparently the leg-swinging was contagious, because Izuku couldn’t help but do it as well. Hawks looked into the clouds over the city, and Izuku looked at Hawks. He looked wistful, with a sad smile on his face, and Izuku’s heart sunk. He hadn’t realized that he preferred staying with Hawks as an intern until he saw the look on his face like he was going to say goodbye, and all of a sudden, Izuku was preparing himself for the sting of another adult not willing to put in the effort for an awkward, hopeless kid. He steeled himself. He’d move on from it with thicker skin, like he always did.

“Sorry about that,” Hawks said. “Sometimes I get so wrapped up in everything I forget that there are other important parts of being a hero.” He looked Izuku in the eyes. “Thanks for reminding me.” From so close, Izuku could see the bags under his eyes. How late had he gotten back last night, to assume that Izuku would be asleep? He remembered an analyst he’d listened to back in middle school who’d claimed that Hawks would burn out of the Top Ten within a year.

Izuku fidgeted. “Why do you…go so fast all the time?”

Hawks sighed and coughed again, but when his face turned back to Izuku, he was smiling. “Just, you know. Making a better world, for future heroes like you. Heroes should be able to relax, too. Who knows,” he said, staring back out at the sky, “by the time you graduate, maybe we won’t even need so many heroes, and you can kick back and take it easy as an analyst or something.”

“But I want to be a hero! Ever since I was little, it’s been my dream, to be like All Might.”

“Ah, I guess you and I are pretty similar, huh?” Hawks smiled and gave Izuku a playful punch to the arm. “For me, it was Endeavor.”

Izuku grit his teeth, his usual reaction any time Endeavor came up in conversation, but he was also surprised. Endeavor was from a later generation than All Might—Hawks was young enough for Endeavor to be his childhood hero? He’d known Hawks was the youngest in the Top Ten, but he hadn’t quite realized. “Oh,” was all he could say.

“So,” Hawks said, stretching his wings out behind him with a flutter. “That’s my reason. Work hard now, save others the pain. I guess I’ve been slacking on your training a bit because, in my mind, such promising kids like you and Tokoyami shouldn’t need to be heroes, if that makes sense. You should be able to do whatever you want, yeah? But since you want to be a hero, I’ll honor that. What do you want to learn?”

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, trying to force his thoughts together. There was something here that wasn’t quite connecting. He tugged Hawks’s words through his mind, but they still didn’t click, and he glanced up and noticed Hawks looking at him with one eyebrow raised expectantly.

“Oh! I-” he stammered. “I’ve been wanting to work on my air speed and technique!”

“Perfect,” Hawks grinned. “You’ve come to the right place,” he said, heaving himself back up. He stretched his arms above his head and twisted from side to side and pulled his visor back down, and Izuku noticed that the bags under his eyes were invisible under the visor.

Tiredness like the kind Hawks was hiding didn’t come from a single late night. People often called Hawks lazy because he talked about wanting a day off and wanting heroes to be able to take it easy. Was that really lazy, though? Or was he just tired? It clicked in Izuku’s head, then. Hawks worked as hard and went as fast as he did so that no one else would have to do what he did.

“Um, Hawks? Do you- do you not want to be a hero?” Izuku asked, scrambling to his feet.

Hawks lifted himself off the ground with a flap of his wings.

“‘Course I do,” he said solemnly. “Who doesn’t?

He turned away toward the city, leaving his back toward Izuku. “Here,” he said over his shoulder.“The first step is your angle. I think your problem is that you always fling yourself at a square angle, either straight up or straight forward. Let’s head off, and you try matching my angle this time.”

Overcoming his habit of just going straight up, Izuku took off after Hawks at the same angle.

With one hand, he gave Izuku a bright thumbs up. With the other, he held up his collar and coughed into it.

“Onward we go,” he said with a huff that was either a laugh or a sigh, Izuku wasn’t sure which.

He didn’t think Hawks knew, either.

#since my last one flopped big time #here's my next story for hawksweek lol #also a day early bc i am impatient #hawksweek2020 #hawks #bnha #midoriya izuku #mha #bnha fic

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shutupandshipit · 4 years

Text

Magic in the Blood - Ch.4

Summary: “You used magic on me,” Neil said, mildly accusing. He opened his eyes, staring into the glowing honey gold of Andrew’s eyes.

“Don’t I always?”

Instead of answering, Neil asked, “Yes or no?” because his hands were aching to run along Andrew’s skin, up his toned thighs, to tug him down over him. …..

Or where everything is the same, but magic exists. The school year is over, there’s no more practices until mid-summer and for the first time, Neil can spend his time the way he wants. Without suppressants muddling his system and Andrew sober, they’ve got magical and logistical issues to work through.

And then there’s the new Foxes when they show which is a whole other magical nightmare of itself.

Pairing: Andreil

Rating: T

Previous <- Chapter 3

Chapter 5 -> Next

Chapter 4: Taconic State Park, New York Part 2

Neil:

They switched after two hours, Neil posting up happily in the passenger seat. He liked driving well enough, driving just to drive, driving without a purpose, mind on the road, but no one really tell you what driving for hours is really like. How absolutely boring it can get.

“Pull over.” His mother's voice was just a breath, barely even a whisper, but her words were as sharp as ever.

Their drive to them up along the coast, and Neil found himself dragged through memories he would have rather forgotten. Memories that didn't mean what they used to anymore.

Neil followed his mother's order, stopping as far off the main road as he could without the car getting stuck. Darkness pressing in at the windows, their headlights the only ilumination.

He hadn't though the sight of the ocean, that blue endless expansive void, would have invoked his mother's memory, her voice, her magic. He should have known better. He did know better. Still, he hadn't adjusted their course.

Neil was exhausted. They'd been driving for days, down along the coast away from Washington, as far west as they could get without driving into the ocean. If they had gone east, they only would have run into more of his father's people. They would have run into the arms of certain death.

Pressing his forehead to the cool glass of the window, Neil clamped his eyes shut. He tried to will away her memory, but that only seemed to pull her forward more quickly.

They were just off the beach, gravel turning into fine sand just a few yards up.

Her memory was greedy for his pain. Hungry for his end. The end he'd escaped.

In the light of the headlights, he watched the waves roll in and over each other, casting up the natural magic that always seemed to place a soothing cloth over his suppressant restrained system.

He breathed shallowly. There was the smell of drying blood, the sting of his mother's fingers twisting in his hair, the taste of ash on his tongue.

Tonight, nothing could be soothing with the smell of blood thick in the sticky heat of the car. Tonight, that natural magic only put him more on edge. Tonight, his suppressants were wearing thin far sooner than they should have, and thunder heads were gathering on the horizon.

He felt when Andrew caught wind of his unease, how his magic reacted to Neil's huddling deep in his body like it always had around his parents. Hide because that was the only way to live.

His fingertips were gritty with gunpowder and dried blood, pulling at his skin in that sickening way dried blood always did before it started flaking away.

Run because that was the only way to survive.

They knew she was dying. They'd known for miles, but they were as far as they could get. From his father. On her life.

He put the car in park, but he was unwilling to look at her grime streaked face. There'd be pain, determination, anger, desperation. He didn't want to see any of it. He couldn't. What was he going to do without her?

“Mom?”

Andrew's hand hovered close, his magic slipping off his skin in comforting waves. Even now, over a year later, after everything that had happened, Neil never really understood how Andrew's magic could be so opposite from the person. That was just it though, wasn't it?

Andrew's magic was just like him, but no one wanted to see it. Calm and creeping, it tended towards healing and protection. It could be hard and dangerous, but most often, it was the calmest thing in the room. If you needed protection, you went to Andrew. If you needed to be fixed, you went to Andrew. His methods were unorthodox and offensive, but they worked. They always worked.

His mother and father and teammates were all the same, and he wondered if that meant their magic was a product of them or if they were a product of their magic.

“Look at me.” Her magic clawed at him, no longer the rugged calm wave that it had always been. It adopted the thorns that always lurked beneath the surface, digging into his skin because it couldn't reach his magic buried deep in his body. “Look at me!”

Her fingers snaked into his hair, twisting tightly until he cried out and looked at her through tear filled eyes.

Reaching out blindly, Neil stopped Andrew's fingers before they reached his hair. He pulled them down, pulled them close.

Tears tracked down Mary's face. She'd only ever cried in front of Neil once in his life when she thought the infected stab wound in his side was going to kill him. She'd spent an entire day casting healing spells and protection spells over him until their safe room smelled of burned chamomile and ocean salt. Of her spent magic.

Her expression was stony. “Abram, answer me!”

“Promise me.” Neil didn't realize he'd spoken until Andrew's fingers flexed in his, tightening around his, tightening around his own.

Rain pounded down on the roof of the car, deafening.

“Promise what?”

“Promise me you'll stay hidden. Promise me you will never be Nathaniel again. Promise me you will do everything you can to survive. After everything, you cannot let your father find you. Promise me,” she demanded, magic behind her words. He'd never understood until that moment how powerful she really was.

The promise magic worked its way through his system. There was a chance that it would be gone as soon as she died, and there was a chance it would just become a part of his survival.

“I promise,” he told her, scalp aching and eyes burning. Her magic dug down deeper.

Lightning flashed across his eyes.

Lightning flashed across the ocean as rain began to pour.

“Don't make this lightly!” she snapped, jerking on his hair harder, “If you let yourself die, my death will mean nothing too. Protect yourself at all costs. There is nothing and no one more precious than your own life. Do you understand me!”

“Yes.” He knew she was holding into the last dregs of her life as her magic began to wane, thorns detaching from their vines to burrow under his skin.

“What are your names?”

Neil repeated all the people he had been up to that point, all the aliases that hadn't lasted, all the other boys that were no longer alive.

“Abram, don't let her keep you.”

“Where are the safe houses?”

He listed each from memory, staring into the clouding blue of her eyes.

“You're not running anymore.”

Mary's voice was only a croak as she asked, “Who are your contacts?”

Neil sobbed through the list, latching onto her wrist.

“You have a home. You have people who are here for you.”

Fingers loosening in his hair, she pulled him in to press a kiss to his forehead. “You have to survive.” She let him go, and it wasn't long before he was incoherent. Within the hour, she was dead.

Neil tumbled from the car into the torrential downpour, unable to be near her corpse as he watched the last wisp of mustard yellow magic slipped passed her parted lips.

When he lit the fire, her body burned slower than he thought.

“You don't need her anymore.”

Neil inhaled sharply, the taste of smoke thick on his tongue. He sat up, Andrew's fingers still clutched securely in his own. He was panting.

“Are you back?”

He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, throat thick. The ocean was out of sight, and immediately, the rain began to lighten. “Y-yeah. I think so.” He glanced over at Andrew. “Were you talking to me?”

“Yes. What happened?”

“The ocean. I haven't seen the ocean since- I hate the ocean.”

Andrew didn't ask anything else. He didn't need to.

…..

“This place looks like we're going to get eaten by bears,” Andrew commented, stepping from the car and slamming the door closed.

Neil followed suit, rounding the back and starting to pull things from the trunk. He dropped the tent box on the ground. “Not if we're smart.”

“You're never smart.”

“Yes, but I am at least a little street smart.”

Andrew leveled an unimpressed look at him. “Do I need to bring up the murderous psychopath again?”

Neil huffed. “No.”

“Stop pouting.”

Ignoring him, Neil looked up at the treetops. “Look, there's no other people around, and Matt said that the school year hasn't finished up so there's not going to be anyone. Plus, it's the middle of the work week. We'll have the place to ourselves,” he pointed out, spinning in the middle of their site for emphasis.

Andrew paced the edges of the campsite, digging shallow holes to drop in honey and mint. He pushed the first back into each hole. “I can see three other tents just from where I'm standing.”

“And those are the only other tents.”

“That's not alone.”

Neil rolled his eyes and sighed. “It's as alone as we're going to get.” He turned back towards Andrew, grinning. “Come on, try to have fun? It's summer! This is my first time camping! This is the first time we've gotten to be alone without the team on our heels. We don't have to worry about anyone prying into our business.”

“Besides the person trying to track you.”

Waving away the concern, Neil said, “That happens all the time. I'm not going to let that stop me from living.”

“Because you've been so good at that in the past.”

“Because I'm trying.”

“Neil.”

“Andrew.”

They stared at each other for several long moments before Andrew gave in with a roll of his eyes. He kicked open the top of the tent box and pulled out the bag holding the poles. “Whatever.”

Neil grinned again. “Who knows. Maybe you'll like being out here.”

“Doubt it.” Lip curling, he turned his sneer towards the trees. “There's so much nature.”

“You sound like Nicky.” Neil laughed when Andrew turned a glare on him. He bent down, wrestling the canvas from the box.

“Don't compare me to him.”

They set up the camp and tent surprisingly quick for not even attempting to look at the tent directions. They set out the sleeping bags and mounds of blankets Neil had brought. They left the the food in the trunk, but pulled out the firewood to stack next to the fire pit.

Neil stood off to the side, hands on his hips to survey their work. “This'll be great.”

“You won't be saying that when you break an ankle and bleed out on a deserted trail.”

“That's what you're here for.”

“I'm not dragging your corpse back. The bears can have you.”

“I won't be dead yet.”

“Still not gonna do it.” Andrew shrugged. Glancing around, he pushed his hands into his pockets. “Where's that waterfall you wanted to go to?”

…..

Neil let his magic free from his tight strangle hold on it as soon as they were on the path and far away from the rest of the sights. There wasn't a soul in sight, no cabins, no tents, no platforms for tents. There were no children, mothers, fathers or friends. There was the possibility of animals, but they weren't in as much danger as humans.

Not that Neil or Andrew's magic was dangerous unless they were threatened.

Colorful rainbow tendrils crawled across the forest floor and spiraled through the air. The trees responded, leaning down towards Neil to brush leaves against his hair. The sun seemed to shine just the tiniest bit brighter, the sky bluer. Water tinkled near by, laughing and burbling. A breeze brushed through their hair.

Under the right circumstances, his magic wasn't always destructive. People forgot to remember that he controlled the weather, and that didn't stop at storms.

Andrew's magic was less physical, and Neil loved to watch him when using it. His magic showed in the shine of his skin, the thickness of his hair, the sparkling gold of his eyes. The funniest thing about Andrew's brand of magic was that it tended to attract the animals Neil's magic tended to scare off.

As they talked, animals peaked out from the underbrush and shouted from the trees.

“You're a regular Snow White. Or maybe Cinderella,” Neil mused as a bird paused above Andrew to nip at his hair before flitting off and a raccoon trotted beside them.

Andrew glared down at the raccoon, and it took of into the trees. “They wouldn't be so keen if they knew I used their blood in my spells.”

“You get your blood from a butcher,” Neil pointed out, “Or your own.”

“Doesn't change anything.”

“I think it does.” Neil pushed closer to Andrew, just barely bumping their shoulders together.

…..

Andrew:

The hike took them longer than either of them had anticipated, and they were both sun flushed and sweat drenched by the time they reached the waterfall with its little oasis. They had brought water bottles, but nothing compared to the fine mist floating from the water as they stood at the edge of the pool.

Water and magic burbled as one, cascading over the smooth rocks at the top of the falls.

Andrew watched as Neil crouched by the pool, staring into the surface. Neil's magic twisted and twirled with the natural magic of the falls, as if they were playing. Andrew's magic was much more reserved, sticking close to his body and growing prickly at the intrusive natural magic. “What are you doing?” he asked when Neil didn't move.

“Considering getting in.”

Lifting his foot, Andrew shoved against Neil's ass and watched as he flailed all the way into the pool. It was deeper than he'd thought, and Neil disappeared beneath the surface. When he surfaced, Andrew was genuinely laughing for the first time in longer than he could remember.

Neil broke the surface, sputtering, “Asshole!”

“We've already discussed this,” Andrew said, smirking. He wasn't expecting -though he really should have been- when the wind pressed against his back, sending him off balance.

In his fumble, Neil reached out and yanked him in, pushing his head beneath the surface. When he popped back up, Andrew couldn't stop staring at the shit-eating grin curling up the corners of his mouth.

He was soaked and cold, but that smirk on Neil's lips sent a flutter through his chest. He hated the feeling. He hated Neil for making him feel that way. “I hate you.”

“Probably a good plan,” Neil agreed, still smirking.

Andrew growled, stepping closer. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil said, leaning towards him.

For what felt like hours, they lay in the water making out and playing around, blissed out on each others company in a way they hadn't been able to so far.

Neil pulled him beneath the waterfall to sit on a thin slab of rock. They spend another infinite minute wrapped up in the feel of each other, their lips going numb and energetic magic all around them. They break apart when they hear the other campers pause at the pool's edge, but they don't stay long.

“Nicky's going to be jealous when he hears about this,” Neil whispers, eyes on the others campers.

“Good.”

…..

The sun was beginning to dip low towards the horizon when they finally made it back to the campsite, and they immediately stoked a fire the same as the other three sites. They slipped into the tent and out of their clothing, shivering with the dropping temperature. If it had been warmer, they might have considered continuing what they'd started at the pool, but it wasn't and hunger gnawed at their empty stomachs.

They pulled out can with pop tops that they nestled in the coals on the edge of the fire to heat up. Neil broke off his tab, staring balefully at Andrew while he laughed at Neil before lending him a knife to pry the top open. They ate in silence, listening to the forest fall asleep around them and the nocturnal animals wake.

Only one other campsite had more than two people at it, and Neil and Andrew watched as they invited the other two sites to theirs in turn. They turned towards Neil and Andrew.

Magic flared hot in Andrew's chest as they were stopped by his barrier.

“Uh, we just wanted to...” They trailed off as magic settled in Andrew's eyes, lighting his irises from the inside out. After several seconds of confused stammering, they returned to their site.

Andrew stood, stretching as his back popped. “Where did you put the marshmellows?”

Neil frowned, setting his can on the edge of the pit. “You got marshmellows?”

“We're camping. They're a requirement. You wanted the full experience.”

“What are they a requirement for?”

Andrew blinked at him, registering the confusion on Neil's, but not understanding why it was there for a long moment. “I forgot. You've never had s'mores before.”

“What the fuck are s'mores?”

Andrew gave a long suffering sigh before disappearing into the trunk of the car. He hauled out a bag of fluffy white marshmellows, a bar of chocolate, and graham crackers. “S'mores. You melt a marshmellow on a stick,” he muttered as he searched the ground with squinted eyes in the near full darkness. He picked up two long sticks with suitable points on the ends. “Then you smash it between two crackers and chocolate.”

“That sounds gross,” Neil said with a grimace.

“It's delicious.”

“I don't like sweets that much.”

“You're going to try one because it's a requirement.”

Neil laughed incredulously. “By who?”

“Me.”

“I'm going to get a cavity.”

“Then brush your teeth after.”

Neil groaned, but watched Andrew intently as he speared two marshmellows, one on each stick before handing him one. His marshmellow immediately caught fire, and it burned for several moments before he thought to blow it out.

Andrew by comparison perfectly toasted his to a golden brown like he toasted marshmellows on a daily.

“How'd you do that?”

“I'm just better than you.”

Neil didn't disagree, but stuck his tongue out childishly.

Andrew lunged for him, ready to grab his tongue, but Neil retreated quickly with a laugh. Andrew demonstrated how to stack a s'more. Cracker, chocolate, marshmellow, cracker, pull the stick from the marshmellow.

When Neil tried, he nearly deposited the whole mess on the ground when he removed the stick. “Jesus Christ. Tyche is going to murder me for all this sugar.”

“You're goddess isn't going to murder you for sugar. She'll probably just murder you for all the trouble you put her through.”

“Speaking of which...” Neil trailed off as he carefully broke his s'more in half and threw the bigger of the two into the fire. “For Tyche. Hope she like it.”

“Mm. Doubt it, but who knows,” Andrew said, eyes tracing over Neil in the flickering fire light. He could see the resonance of his own magic, just a slight impression across his chest, but he couldn't see the luck spells Neil usually placed along his wrists. “You need to renew your spells. They're gone.”

“I'll do it tomorrow maybe. Let's eat these first.”

Ignoring Neil's utter lack of commitment to his own safety, Andrew bit into his s'more, smearing marshmellow and chocolate across his lip. He made a show of licking away the mess between chewing for Neil's benefit. Andrew flicked his eyes towards him, raising an eyebrow at his stare.

Neil dropped his eyes and sighed. Andrew watched, holding back a laugh, as he shoved half of his dessert into his mouth. Pure regret overshadowed his face, and he grimaced as he chewed quickly then swallowed. After another half second, he ate the other half. “That was awful. It's like eating a sugar packet.”

“This is nothing like that, but the candy you're looking for it Pixie Sticks. Also a terrible comparison.”

Neil groaned comically. “Don't tell me you used to eat those.”

“They were the only candy I could really afford. Also, the other kids in the home and I used to snort them just for a laugh. “

Mild horror overtook Neil's face. “That's disgusting.”

Andrew nodded in agreement. “It was.”

Neil laughed and watched him as he worked his way through two more s'mores before calling it quits. They packed the food and empty cans away again, brushing their teeth on the edge of the fire before dousing the flames and crawling into the tent.

In unspoken agreement, they layered the sleeping bags open on top of each other and dropped the mound of blankets in the middle. They were already bundled up in sweats and sweatshirts, but they burrowed beneath the blankets, Andrew facing the entrance as he always did when they slept.

They lay awake for hours in the dark listening to the three groups of campers shout and crow and get steadily drunker. They had no magic which made them less of an immediate threat, but the forest was alive with nighttime magic. It crept around the edges of their tent with the light footsteps of curious animals, cautious of their more powerful magic.

Each time a camper or animal got too close to Andrew's barriers, they tensed beneath the covers until they were repelled and slipped away again.

“Andrew,” Neil whispered once the three groups had quieted down, and only the crackle of their fires and gentle whispers of the barely awake still rang.

Already pressed close, Andrew rolled onto him with ease, elbows on either side of his head. They stared at each other in the darkness, eyes luminous with the release of magic they'd been allowing all day. “What do you want?”

“You,” Neil said, eyes darting down towards his lips before up again, “Always you.”

“Shut up.”

“I would if-”

Andrew pressed down, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue, chest to chest. Their bodies were flush against each other as he hadn't allowed often in their time together. There was always space between them, enough to push away, enough to say stop, but Andrew couldn't stand the space that night. It was like a poison that only contact could cure.

His skin didn't feel right on his bones, tingling and bloating, his blood too full of magic. Neil's heartbeat against his chest eased the overflow, made him feel centered in his skin. Neil's lips against his was a drug he'd gladly take every day until he was dead.

Pressed so close, he felt when Neil responded to him. When he slipped beneath the waistband of Neil's sweats and took him in his hand, it was as if he lost all control of his magic, pouring his magic against Neil's abdomen.

“So warm.” Neil panted against his mouth though Andrew had yet to start moving, arms wrapped around the back of his neck. “I want to touch you, yes or no?” he gasped, mouthing along his chin, “You can say no. I just want to make you feel the way you make me feel.”

Andrew was half tempted to say no, not completely sure whether he was ready for Neil's hands to be on him. At the same time, he didn't want to say no at all. He wanted to know how his body responded when Neil's fingers were around him. He wanted to know if he was still that scared fourteen-year-old boy or if he'd managed to shed that old skin. He didn't want to say no simply because it was Neil asking, and not taking.

So, he said, “Yes.”

Neil was staring up at him, eyes glowing ice blue, streaked with white bolts of lightning. “Tell me if you want to stop. Don't hold back.” When Andrew nodded, he slipped his hand between their bodies and wrapped his finger's around Andrew for the first time.

Andrew almost looked away when Neil smiled in response to his gasp. He did when he couldn't hold back a tremble.

It was a tight fit between them, their hands crushed between their bodies, but they made it work.

Neil all but attacked his neck while he adjusted to the new searing heat of his palm. He couldn't stop himself from tilting his head to the side, only allowing Neil more access to the soft flesh at his pulse point.

Andrew immediately regretted the surrender as Neil sucked and nipped at his pulse. He only stopped when Andrew couldn't hold himself still, hips stuttering forward against Neil's hand.

That one push set them into motion, and they didn't last long.

Andrew's pace was fast and brutal as always, dragging Neil towards his end with gasps and moans.

Neil's pace was more experimental as he parsed out exactly what Andrew liked, using his breaths and stillness and teeth against his shoulder as clues. It didn't take long beside Andrew's quick strokes and Andrew's aborted thrusts for Neil's pace to pick up, nearly matching Andrew's.

They came one after another, Andrew's vision going white as he dug his teeth into Neil's shoulder.

His vision cleared one breath at a time as he hovered above Neil. Neil's breath fanned hot across his mouth, and those ice blue eyes were staring up wonderingly at him. His hands were held between them.

“You're blood is glowing. Here,” Neil said, cupping his cheeks, “And here.” He trailed his hands down Andrew's neck. “Darkest here.” He rubbed a thumb over the mark he'd no doubt left. “Will your magic let it stay?” He didn't wait for an answer. “Your eyes are more gold than ever.”

“Stop looking at me like that,” Andrew spat, pulling his hand from Neil's sweats.

A giddy naive smile sat thick on his lips, but unlike the other times when he easily wiped away his expression, he seemed to struggled to do the same now. “Like what?” Neil asked, a flurry of colors escaping his mouth. He was glowing too, blood tinged every color beneath his skin.

Andrew wondered if the glow had to do with where they were or how much they'd let go of their magic or what he'd just allowed to happen. How he'd let Neil weasel his was a little further into his defenses.

A nuisance. That's what he was.

Leveraging himself up on his knees, the blankets falling away from his back to allow the cold to rush in, he pinched Neil's cheeks hard. “This stupid look on your fucking face.”

“I don't have a stupid look on my face,” Neil protested, pushing halfheartedly at Andrew's chest even as his smile only got bigger. He was laughing.

“You are a menace,” Andrew growled.

“A menace you like.”

“A menace to my sanity. How many times do I have to remind you that I hate you?”

“Until I get the picture,” he said, “Remember, I'm stupid.”

“Shut up.” Andrew released his cheeks only to grip his chin, kissing him harshly.

…..

Neil:

They stayed there for three more days and nights, lounging lazily in their chairs and in their makeshift bed. Finding a deserted section of beach out of site of the lifeguard to wade into the pond's cool water. Hiking trails that led to beautiful natural scenery where the kissed on sun warmed rocks. They even returned to the falls once.

They only came across the other campers once, the three groups having come together to make one large mob of babbling, noisy people that Andrew glared at and Neil smiled at pleasantly. When they were spotted, the pair that had tried to bring them into the fold went silent, dropping their eyes.

'Get out.' The voice sounded like his mother, like Andrew, like how he imagined Tyche, like the voices of all the protections spells that had ever been cast on him. The voices that had kept him from walking astray or into a trap. The bitter taste of a lie filled his mouth, but without speaking to someone directly, he wasn't sure what the spell was picking up. Whatever it was, Neil knew they didn't want any part of it.

“Afternoon! Great weather for a hike!” a woman said jovially as they passed, ignoring Andrew's narrowed eyes in favor of returning Neil's smile.

“Yes,” Neil agreed. He laughed, bumping into Andrew and wrapping his fingers around his wrist. When they were about to turn a bend in the path, Neil glanced surreptitiously back at the group. The pair that had dropped their eyes before were doing so again. Only this time, Neil saw the ripple of a glamour across their faces.

Turning back, he slipped the tips of his fingers into Andrew's palm, the warmth a comfort as his heart began to race. “We need to run. Now. We have to go.”

…..

Andrew didn't ask questions, running down the path after him.

They broke down their site and filled the car in a fraction of the time it took them to set up, working feverishly, but quietly as they kept an eye out for any indication they had followed. As they dropped the tent, they found poorly hidden signs of attempted forced entry. Hash marks across the ground. Freshly spilled blood at the southern tip of the site. Burned feathers along an edge.

With their trip cut short, they packed almost somberly and without comment. In the car, Neil said, “Your wards held up, but they were really trying to break them. With enough time, they might have.”

“I couldn't feel their magic. What tipped you off?” Andrew asked, taking turns at breakneck speeds, completely disregarding anything else happening around them.

Neil ran his teeth along his tongue, scraping away the taste of the lie. “Glamour. Kind of tastes like swamp water. I don't know what happened to those two campers who tried to talked to us originally, but that wasn't them. I just don't get how they found us.”

Andrew kept his eyes on the road, but his voice was steady as he said, “Matt knew where we were going.”

Neil cut his eyes hard at Andrew. “He wouldn't tell just anyone.”

“Doesn't mean his phone can't get hacked. Doesn't mean a conversation can't be overhead.”

A shiver shot down Neil's spine. He stared out the windshield. “Do you want to go back to South Carolina?”

“No amount of murderous psychopaths is going to keep me from trying every flavor of gelato in New York.”

Blinking towards Andrew in confusion, Neil simply asked, “What?”

“We're going gelato hunting when we get there.”

“Why? When did we agree on that?”

“We,” Andrew emphasized, “didn't. I did. You chose camping and visiting Matt. I'm choosing gelato.”

“You're a tyrant. A sugar crazed tyrant. You know I don't like sweets.”

“More for me.”

Despite his hammering heartbeat, Neil still found himself calming. They hadn't gotten caught yet. They still had time, and they still had spells to cast. His father's people couldn't get lucky twice in a row, catching up to them that quickly. Right?

#all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #Andreil #my writing #magic in the blood #witch au #magic user au

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reallyautomaticvoid · 5 years

Text

Calling It: Good Intentions: Chapter 5: Chats with Bats

Many thanks to my lovely beta reader, @Yumixusagi, who did a fantastic job editing this chapter!

*Slight spoiler/trigger warning* Here's the chapter that I've been worried about. It's heavy. Like, if you thought the last chapter was bad...yeah, sorry.

Anyways, angst ahoy!

It’s rare for Tamara Fox to get angry.

Annoyed, sure, you would too if your ex-fake fiancé was your real boss who was never in the damn office when he says he was going to be.

But today, today Tam isn’t angry.

She is furious.

“How did you get into our office,” Tam asks, not looking up as she continues typing on her computer (emailing Conner and company to give them a heads up about this little turn of events). “And how did you know that Tim was going to be here today? I wasn’t even a hundred percent sure he was going to be here until last night.”

And she hadn’t been. Conner had been cagey on the phone with her, so clearly whatever fresh crap had made its way onto Tim’s door had been bad. She’d been planning on grilling Tim for the full scoop when he got into the office. Not that Tam needs (or wants) the nitty-gritty of Tim’s…extracurricular activities, but she wants to make sure Tim is…well, safe is a bit of a stretch, but she’d settle for okay.

But, because, Dick, today of all day, had chosen to grace them with his presence, Tam knows one thing.

Tim is not okay.

Which means her (and Tim’s) lives are going to be a lot more complicated.

Dick ignores Tam’s questions. “What was that about, Tam?”

Tam looks at Dick, giving Dick one of her Dad’s most unimpressed, we aren’t doing that Bruce, looks. She’d only seen it in action a few times. It always works.

“What do you mean?”

A high pitch sound, somewhere between a cry of pain and exasperation escapes from Dick.

Tam cocks an eyebrow before turning back to her email.

“Tim tells me he’s not my brother anymore and you seem more worried about his coffee than that.” Dick wildly gestures between Tam and the now empty elevator.

Tam resists rolling her eyes, instead, sending off her email and pulling a stack of evaluation form the copier had failed to staple together.

Usually, Tam would have gotten an intern to do this, but, right now, she wants to make a point.

“You ever dealt with Tim without coffee?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Dick wince, because, yeah, point. “Only when he was fourteen. It wasn’t that—”

“Yeah, it’s only gotten worse since then.”

Slumping, Dick falls onto the couch opposite of Tam’s desk.

“I didn’t realize it had gotten that bad.”

Tam staples two sheets of paper together with a snap. “No shit.”

“When did it get this bad?”

Tam doesn’t immediately answer. She doesn’t know know were this all started. Tam's got a few guesses — none of which she’s in the mood to share with Dick.

Instead, Tam' mouth decides to say, “I’d say somewhere around Iraq.”

Dick’s head pops up. “When was he in Iraq?”

Tam clenches her jaw shut because, shitshitshitshitshitshit, mouth: you weren’t supposed to say that!

“Tam,” Dick’s tone was low and warning.

“Yes?”

“When?”

“Previously.”

“To?”

“Today.”

“Can you give me a straight answer?”

“Yes,” Tam snaps the stapler around two more pieces of paper, “I can.”

Dick pinches the bridge of his nose. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

Tam’s lips twitch. “Hook, line, and sinker.”

Dick sighs. “Tam, you and I are friends, right?”

Tam snaps the stapler again. Trying a different approach, huh? “Correct.”

“And as friends, you want the best thing for me, right?”

“To a certain extent, yes.”

And she does.

Don’t get her wrong; typically, Dick is one of favorite people. He’s smart, kind, and has a killer sense of humor (not to mention he’s not that hard on the eyes…).

Unfortunately, sorting out the Wayne family woes is distinctly not part of her job description.

There isn’t enough money in the universe to make her willing to take on that job.

“Then, can you tell me what just happened?”

Tam stares at Dick for a long moment, considering her options.

She could lie, which would only end up with Dick camping out her all damn day, trying to get the truth out of her (or worst, Tim).

She could tell Dick the whole yeah, you fucked up your little brother up and I don’t think there’s anything you can do to fix it which would also end up with Dick here all damn day. Except, he’d be trying to fix everything broken with him and Tim, which would end…badly.

Or, option three:

“Well, you did drop in on his work, unannounced, which by the way, don’t think I didn’t notice you not answering how you got into my office question, spilled his coffee, and call him Timmy. Everyone knows he hates that.”

“Yeah, but, he always, I don’t know, jokingly hated it.”

Tam resists slamming her head against her keyboard. “You sure about that?”

“Yes.” Dick pouts.

“Uhuh. Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

Dick shot to his feet. It would almost be intimidating, if not for the slight quiver of Dick’s lower lip. “You don’t think I know him? I was there for him through the clench. I was there the first, the second, and the third time Jason tried to kill him. I am always there for him.”

“Yeah?” Tam slams the stapler down, leans back in her chair, starting hard at Dick. “Where were you last month?”

That makes Dick pause. He blinks at Tam, like she asks him to solve string theory. “What happened last month?”

Tam gives Dick a cold look that has been known to turn lesser men into ice. “Jee, I don’t know, Dick. What did happen last month?”

“Jesus, Tam,” Dick tries, but Tam is done.

“No. No, Dick. You do not get to waltz in after years of not being around and pull the: I’m a good brother card. Or did you forget? I handle all of Tim’s calls in the office?” Tam gestures at the phone. “Literally no one talks to Tim here without me knowing about it. Wanna know how often you call him? Spoilers, Jason, you know the one who tried to kill Tim, calls more than you do.”

All the blood and anger drain from Dick.

“That’s not his only—there are other ways to get in contact with him.”

“Sure,” Tam agrees, turning back to her work. “But, how often do you use them?”

Dick lands face first on his bed. Hours later, Tim’s words are still swirling around his brain. “No, just Drake…I was just a substitute to make sure Bruce didn’t go off the deep end…I’m not your brother Dick…”

Dick groans into his pillow. How’d it gotten this bad? How’d Dick not seen any of the signs? Dick had been the goddamn Batman.

How’d he missed something two inches from his face?

Jason and Dick’s last conversation of when he’d seen Baby Bird had bounce around Dick’s brain until, yesterday, when he’d finally broken down. Using his connections at WE, Dick was ecstatic to learn Tim was going to be in the office the next day, his day off. He figured that he and Tim could play hooky, just like when Tim had been Robin and Dick had pulled Tim out of school after a particularly rough weekend for the Titans.

Clearly, Dick had been wrong.

Dick feels a hand starting to stroke his hair. “Hey, honey. What’s wrong?”

The guilt intensifies at the concern in Babs' voice. “I fucked up, Babs. I really, really fucked up.”

Dick hears Barbara’s wheelchair squeak when she leans back. “What did you do, Dick? I swear to God, if you and Damian got more puppies—”

Dick gives a weak laugh. “No, no puppies. Nothing quite that fun. I—I fucked up with Tim.”

Babs looks perplex. “What are you talking about? You haven’t done anything—”

“Exactly.” Dick hops up, pacing around his room. “I haven’t done anything and now—and now he saying he’s not—he’s not a Wayne anymore.”

Barbara snorts. “Since when do you get to pick if you’re a Wayne or not?”

“You don’t get it, Babs, he legally dropped the last name. Ages ago, apparently. And I didn’t have a fucking clue that anything was happening.” Dick threw himself back onto the bed. “He said he wasn’t my brother. Said I never was.” His voice is small and pathetic.

Sighing, Barbara carefully climbs out of her wheelchair and onto the bed next to Dick, snuggling up next to him.

“Dick, you’re his brother. You became his brother that day at the circus, and you've been his big brother ever since. You’re also human. You make mistakes, and you fuck up. I’ve never seen you back down from a challenge. Look at what you did with Damian and Jason. Look at how close you guys are now.” She kisses Dick’s forehead. “So there’s been a bump in the road with you and Tim. So what? You’ll get him back.”

Dick puts his arm around Barbara and kisses the top of her head.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.”

An hour later, Barbara and Dick head down to the cave. Dick’s surprised but not displeased to find that the rest of the Bats were all down there.

Jason is at his workbench, cleaning one of his many guns. Damian’s on the mats, practicing the newest move Dick had taught him yesterday, and Bruce was on the Batcomputer, typing away. Dick’s eyes linger on Bruce’s back before approaching Jason.

Jason glances up. “Big Bird.”

Dick didn’t flinch at the name. Normally, Jason calling him Big Bird starts long prank war which always ends the same way: by Alfred’s raised eyebrow. This time though, Dick’s on a mission.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?” Jason doesn’t look up from reassembling his 22.

“You knew about Tim. You knew that he—that we left him behind.” Dick's tone is hollow.

Jason stops what he’s doing to squint at Dick. “I had a few guesses.” Jason goes back to what he’s doing. “What brings this up now, Big Wing?”

Dick notes the use of his rarely used old nickname. It gives him a warm sensation in his gut to hear it after all this time. “I went to see Tim this afternoon.”

Jason freezes for a millisecond before continuing on.

Dick’s well aware of the silence emanating from the Batcomputer and Damian has been stretching his right leg for far too long.

Jason hums. “How’d that go?”

Dick has to fight the urge to slug his brother. Or cry, he wasn’t sure.

“It went about as well as you expected I’m guessing.”

“Dick,” Barbara warns, putting a hand on his elbow.

Finally, Jason put his gun down, leaning back in his chair, and laces his finger behind his head. “I think a lot of things in a day Dickykins,” they both ignore the snort that comes from Damian. “That doesn’t mean I’m thinking ‘bout you and Baby Bird.”

Dick’s fingers curl. “Bullshit, Jason. You've been hinting at this for weeks now.”

“Welp,” Jason says, popping his ‘p’, “if I’ve been hinting at it for that long, why are you just now figuring it out?”

This time, Dick couldn’t help the fist that goes soaring towards Jay’s nose. Barbara shrieks and Damian tuts. Luckily, Bruce is up and had pulls Jason’s chair backwards so Dick’s fist sails through empty air.

“Enough,” the voice coming out of Bruce’s is mostly Batman. “Dick, what’s going on?”

Dick exhales loudly through his nose. “Tim says he’s not part of the family anymore. Apparently, he even dropped the last name ‘Wayne’.”

Bruce’s eyebrows shoot up before his face smooth over again while Jason’s mouth hung open.

“I did not know that.”

“When did this happen?” Dick sees Batman kicking into high gear behind Bruce’s eyes.

Gathering the evidence so he could come to a logical conclusion.

“Dunno. Said he did it a couple of months ago.”

Bruce turns to look at Jason. “What do you know?”

Here comes Batdad, Dick muses to himself.

Jason shrugs. “Not much. Figured somethin' was wrong when I hadn’t seen 'em around much the first few months I was back. He pulled my nuts out of the fire a few time and talked me off da ledge once er twice, so I started ta keep track of him. Noticed he was spendin' more and more time in San Fran. Dat’s about it.”

A tut comes from the mats.

Four sets of eyes whip around to stare at Damian.

“Something to say, Little D?” Dick is cautious.

Odds are not in Dick’s favor that whatever it is that Damian has to say, it will be helpful.

Damian and Tim had never gotten along...well.

“Tt. You all are acting like this is new information. It’s been happening for years. Why are you all so shocked about it now,” Damian sneers.

Dick feels his heart drop before a sickening feeling wells in his gut. Bruce and Barbara go unnaturally still. Bat still. Jason is staring at Damian like Damian’s a puzzle Jason’s trying to put together while blindfolded. Damian—not uses to all of the Bat attention focus on him (unless he was in trouble)—squirms slightly.

“What do you mean, Little D?”

What has Damian noticed that Dick hadn’t?

Damian surveys Dick, frowning at what he sees. “Tt. It started when you won the cowl, Grayson, and you gave me my rightful place at Batman’s side.”

Dick flinches at the memory. That had been more than three years ago. The fight had been bitter between him and Jason only ending when Dick had beaten Jason and taking the Batman mantle. At the time, he had been so overwhelmed with everything that being Batman entailed. He hadn’t had time to explain his decision then. Why he’d chosen Damian, who Dick could see on the ledge.

And Tim…Tim was always, always, okay. Dick loved his younger brother, loved working with him, but he saw Tim was rapidly growing out of the Robin suit. Dick had known that if he had tried to boss Tim around, it would have wrecked their relationship. Plus, Dick saw Tim as an equal; not a sidekick.

Jason’s glare at Dick could slice glass. “Ya told me he gave up the Robin mantle, on his own.”

Dick put his head in his hands. He doesn’t have time to explain this all to Jason.

“It was time, Jay, okay? He needed to grow up.”

“Who the fucking hell are you ta make dat choice for Tim? You had no right ta force him out.”

Dick refuses to let his voice crack. “He needed to grow up, Jay.”

Jason lets out a short, cold bark of laughter.

It makes Dick’s skin crawl.

“Ya don’t get it, do ya, Dicky? Ya chose ta give Robin up; ya weren't forced to. How’d you feel if someone had taken it before you were ready? Fuck, you were pissy at Bruce for months after he gave me the title and you quit.”

Dick winces.

Giving up Robin had been one of the hardest decisions in his life. He wasn’t sure how he'd feel if Bruce had taken it and given it to Jason without even talking to him about it first.

But—

“It was the right call,” Dick suborning repeats.

“How the shit can ya—” Jason starts before Bruce cuts him off.

“Boys."

Jason glares at Dick for another minute before mutter, “we ain’t done with dis yet, Grayson.”

Which—great, just, great.

“Tt. It didn’t help, Grayson, that you wanted to send him to Arkham either.” The sinking feeling in Dick’s gut increases.

Did Dick let Tim fall through the cracks?

Thinking back through the last three years, Dick realizes he hasn’t had a conversation with Tim that didn’t involve masks.

Not since Tim had told him that he thought that Bruce was alive.

Dick hadn’t believed him.

Dick couldn’t believe him.

Dick thought that all of the death that had surrounded Tim (Bruce’s, Conner’s, Stephanie’s, Jack’s) had made Tim crack. So Dick suggested Tim go to Arkham. The look of devastation on Tim’s face still haunts Dick.

Especially since Tim had found Bruce alive.

Whenever they talk now, it’s always been about the work.

What could Tim do for Dick?

Did Dick need data?

Or did he need help with a fight?

When the fuck did that start?

Why did it take Dick so fucking long to realize that it had gotten this bad?

Dick felt a warm hand rubbing circles on his back. He looks around and gave a half-smile to Barbara. She winks back.

“So, he gave up the cowl, I told him he was crazy, then what? What happened then?” Dick falters.

Does he actually want to know?

“Tt. You really are blind sometimes, Grayson. I honestly do not know nor particularly care. To my knowledge,” Damian began to tick things off like one would off a grocery list, “Drake moved out, got emancipated, became CEO, Grandfather kicked him out of a window,” Dick rubs his temple, trying to block the memory of seeing Tim’s crumpled form free falling, “he found Father, then later rejoined the Titans. That’s not really what you want to know though, is it?”

No, it isn’t really what Dick wants to know. He wants to know why Tim thinks he isn’t Dick’s brother anymore.

That isn’t a question for Damian though. That was a question that he was going to be pondering late into the night, perhaps with a bottle of scotch.

Damian looks at Dick with a single raised eyebrow.

It was incredible, sometimes, just how much the fourteen-year-old looked like Bruce.

“Spit it out, Grayson.”

Dick sighs. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Damian rolls his eyes, like the teenager he is. “Tt. Really, Grayson? It might have escaped your notice, but League is not a family. The weak do not survive there. The Bats are my first relatively healthy, normal family.” Jason snorts. Everyone ignores him. “For all I knew, it was wholly expected for Drake to be pushed out of the way to make room for me. It happens in nature. Why not here? None of you seemed to notice or care what Drake was doing. You did not object when he moved out or when he went looking for Father alone. When he came back, none of you reached out to him.

“Not a word was said about him getting emancipated or when he became CEO. I tried to kill him several times as did Todd. Yet, here we stand while Drake does not. You and Father sought us out, and fight for us whenever we strayed off of the path. Yet neither of you did when Drake did.

“Not you or Todd or Father went looking for him after he disappeared for those six months after I… teased him about losing Robin and his father’s death.”

Bruce shifts uncomfortably.

It had happened shortly after Tim rescued Bruce from the time stream. Dick was still wearing the Batman cowl. Red had stopped by the Batcave running a diagnostic on the Batcomputer for them. Batman had sent Robin home early to do some homework.

“I do not need to do a report on bugs. I do not see how this will further my education.”

“It’s your homework, R. Maybe you should ask Red for help? He’s always been the best at school.”

"Tt."

The tires on the Batmobile hadn’t entered the cave, but Dick could tell something was off. When Dick finally got into the cave, he saw Tim and Damian fighting on the mats.

Not sparing.

Fighting.

Dick’s two little brothers were trying to kill each other.

Again.

After he separated them, Dick had laid into Tim pretty hard.

The anguish on Tim’s face was there, just hidden. Dick didn’t think much of it at the time.

“But Dick—”

“No, it doesn’t matter, he’s your little brother.” Dick ignored the scoffing noises coming from Damian who was getting check out by Alfred, “it doesn’t matter what he says or does. He’s your little brother. You’re the older one. You know better. Or at least, you should.”

Tim opened his mouth to say something before Damian’s squeal of pain distracted Dick. Dick turned his back on Tim to check on the injured Damian. Damian’s hint of a smug, satisfied smile was the only thing that Dick saw. He turned around again to check on Tim, but Tim had disappeared.

It was a month later, when Little D was riding the sleep-dep train he confessed to Alfred what happened.

“Master Dick?” Dick looked up to the Butler, smiling.

“Hey, Alfie. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you’ve heard from Master Tim recently?”

Dick felt his face darken. “Not since his fight with Damian. Why?”

Alfred hummed like he already knew that was what the answer was going to be. “Last month, when Masters Tim and Damian got into their scuffle,” Alfred always had a way to undersell things, Dick thought, “Master Damian had been asking after Master Tim’s late father.”

Dick felt his blood go cold at the memory.

Damian wouldn’t…. Before Dick knew what was happening, he had hopped to his feet and run down the stairs to interrogate a very sleep deprived Robin. Apparently, Damian pushed Tim into the fight after being annoyed he'd been sent home early from patrol. Dick called Tim.

“I’m so sorry Tim, I didn’t know.”

Dick squeeze his phone, staring (glaring) down at the Batman domino.

“Water under the bridge, Dick. I gotta get back to work, though. See you around.”

The phone clicked before Dick could answer.

“We do not answer Drake’s distress calls nor did you or Father object when Drake stopped filing reports on the Batcomputer. When we know he’s in town for business, vigilant, WE, or otherwise, we don’t invite him for dinner. We don’t visit him in San Francisco. We do not seek him out, and he stopped seeking us.

“You are a detective, Grayson. I thought you would have detected something if it were amiss. So, why did I not say anything?” Damian’s green eyes meet Dick’s head on. “I thought it was normal.”

Dick’s ears are ringing after Damian’s speech. It’s clear Damian has been putting some thought into this. Dick wonders, for a moment, how many sleepless nights Damian has experienced, waiting to be kicked out too. Dick pushes that thought to the side for the moment. He can only worry about one brother at a time, and right now, it was Tim’s turn. Tim, as Damian so painfully pointed out, has some excellent reasons as to why he doesn’t consider himself a Bat anymore.

Jason bends down, so he’s eye level with Damian. In a soft tone, Jason says, “You and me, we’re gonna work on teachin’ ya how families work. You got me?”

Damian tuts.

Bruce frowns.

It has been over eight months since Tim had bothered upload a report to the Batcomputer.

Calling them barebones would be a kindness.

Tim hadn’t put in any information that was not required. He didn’t attach any images of the crime scenes. The data was there, however, it wasn’t up to what Bruce expected from Tim’s normal standards.

Bruce sighs. Sending Red Hood and Robin out on patrol might have been a mistake. The pair had a habit of getting into trouble, but Hood especially had been too keyed up to stay in for the night.

Oracle returned to the Clock Tower to look into the last few communication Tim had sent out to the Bats for Bruce.

Dick is impatiently hovering, waiting to talk to Bruce since the others had left. Bruce’s trying to delay it for as long as possible. He’s sure that Dick’s going to come up with some harebrained scheme which will require Bruce to bail him out.

And Bruce is really not in the mood to deal with six disgruntled A.R.G.U.S. and a bathtub full of Swiss chocolate.

Again.

Unfortunately for Bruce, Dick has enough.

“We need to do something about Tim.”

Bruce doesn’t look up from the Batcomputer. “What about Tim?”

Dick makes an irritated noise. “You know what, Bruce. He’s been off our radar for what, a year? Two?”

Bruce leans back in his chair. “What do you propose doing? Kidnapping and locking him up? Forcing him to spend time with us? Hugging him into submission?”

“I don’t know B, but we need to do something!” Dick was practically shouting at this point. Bruce turns his chair around to face Dick.

“Why don’t I talk to him? See if he’ll come over for dinner?” Bruce suggests, trying to pacify Dick.

“I don’t think that’ll work this time, B.” Dick before muttering. “I’m not sure anything is going to work.”

It isn’t normal for Bruce to see his oldest son lost. Dick’s always the one with a smile or a quick joke. He always knows the right thing to do. Seeing him this hopeless disturbs Bruce more than he was comfortable with.

Bruce puts his best ‘dad’ face on. “Dick,” Dick doesn’t twitch. “Tim knows you; he knows that you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him on purpose. He’s just…a little lost right now. We’ll get him back. Don’t worry; you’ll be annoying your little brother in no time. Honestly,” Bruce turns back to the computer, “I think you’re making mountains out of molehills.”

“Mountains out of— B, you weren’t there! He wouldn’t look at me!”

“He’s eighteen," Bruce counters. "He's trying to find his way in the world. Don’t you remember what you were like at that age? At least he’s not killing people like Jason.”

"Is that really the standard we're going with?"

"For now, yes."

"Bruce-"

"We'll monitor Tim closely, but unless he does something that warrants our intervention, we should leave well enough alone. Don't worry Dick, he'll come back to us, just like all of you do."

“Yeah, okay.” Bruce can hear in Dick’s voice this was not the outcome Dick had been hoping for. “I’m going to go help O with research. See you, B.”

Bruce sighs as he watches Dick’s shoulders get lower and lower as he drags himself to the locker room. Bruce thinks he heard a faint dry sob before the door slams shut.

He quickly dismisses this.

All of his sons, at some point through the years, drifted away from the family. From him. Hell, Jason had died, but he’s back now. Even if Tim dropped the Wayne name (which, frankly, Bruce isn’t even sure of…he could easily see Tim saying this to get a rise out Dick…Batman has some poking around at City Hall before he believes that one), it didn’t matter.

Whether or not Tim considered himself a Bat (or part of the family), he is.

At least, that’s what Bruce tells himself.

The Batcomputer chirps, calling Bruce’s attention to go back to it. Typing a few commands into the computer, Bruce swears.

The Riddler has escaped from Arkham.

Again.

Great.

N is going to be off his game over this Tim issue, which means the rest of the team would have to pick up the slack. He sends the file over to O so she can get the Birds started on it.

“Tea, sir?” Alfred appears behind Bruce carrying a tray of tea and cookies.

“Thanks, Alfred.” Bruce took the cup and blew on it.

“I daresay, Master Dick seems rather upset tonight.”

Hint, hint, Bruce thinks idly to himself.

“Dick had a rough day. He found out some things that upset him.” Bruce stops, unsure of himself. When Alfred raises an eyebrow, Bruce continues, “Tim has—apparently—disowned himself. Dick is blaming himself because he chose Damian to be Robin.”

“Hmm, that is rather upsetting, sir.” Alfred puts the tray down next to Bruce.

Bruce knew that all of the boys had a spot in both his and Alfred’s hearts. Tim, however, held special meaning for the older man. Tim helped Batman (Bruce) after Jason’s death. That, if nothing else, had secured a place in Alfred’s heart for Tim.

“If I might be so bold, sir, perhaps there is something else that’s is upsetting Master Tim.” Bruce doesn't have to look to know he's getting one of Alfred’s all-knowing looks. The one that always makes Bruce squirm a little on the inside, like when he was twelve and stole the last Christmas cookie. “Something dealing with rooftops, boomerangs, and a case of mistaken identity perhaps, Sir?"

Alfred knows everything.

It had been a long day. Even after Tim got Dick out of his office (which he still isn’t sure how Tam did it), he couldn’t focus for the better part of the day.

Miraculously, Tim managed to get through all of the paperwork. Tim suspects Tam took pity on him and did some of it while he was at the board meeting.

When Tim finally gets home, all he wants is to crawl under the covers in his bed and not emerge for several weeks.

However, Tim will settle for a full eight hours of uninterrupted of sleep.

Or two.

Whatever, no big diff.

Punching in the code for his front door is the best part of his day. Throwing his briefcase onto the coffee table before sinking onto the couch is the second.

Tim closes his eye to enjoy the peace, wondering when his uninvited guest would break the silence.

Odd. He didn’t know they knew where he stayed in Gotham.

Except for Jason.

Pity. Tim had been looking forward to getting some sleep tonight.

Ah well, there’s always tomorrow.

Maybe he should order some dinner.

The deli around the corner makes a wonderful green salad.

He could go for a green salad.

It might be too late to order food though.

What time was it again?

His guest finally cleared his throat.

“You know, it’s illegal to enter a house without permission?”

“This is an apartment,” the voice growls back.

Tim resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Same thing.”

It isn’t like he hadn’t been expecting another visit from the Batfamily today.

He had hoped though.

“Can this wait until the morning? I’ve had one hell of a day.”

“I have a favor to ask you.”

Tim sighs, because of course you do. “Fine. How can I help you, Batman?”

Tim does not look at his former adoptive father.

Former partner.

Former friend.

He does not want to see the cowl or face or anything having to do with Batman tonight. He just wanted a salad before going to bed.

Petty?

Sure…but whatever. Crappy days lead to pettiness.

Batman shifts uncomfortably. Whatever Batman wants, he clearly isn’t comfortable asking for it. “Come to dinner. At the manner.”

It isn’t a question.

It’s an order.

And, sure, there was a time period where Tim would have jumped at the invitation.

Jumped to follow that order.

Unfortunately for Batman, those days are long gone.

“Sorry, B, I’m busy.”

“Make time.”

What, no please?

“Can’t.”

“I didn’t even say when.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m heading out of town in,” Tim shoot a look at his clock before letting his head flop back down, “like six hours? And I’d like to get some sleep before then.”

Hint, hint.

“Breakfast then. I’ll reschedule your flight.” Batman’s lips thin.

If Tim didn’t know any better, he would have thought Batman’s begging.

Tim knows that he’s dancing on a thin line. There was only so much that Batman’s going to allow him to push before Batman would push back.

Tim couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Can’t, it’s a breakfast meeting that I can’t miss. Plus, I’ve got cases that I’ve got to get back to; another time.” He massages his eyes.

He isn’t going to get any sleep tonight, is he?

Goddamnit, the Titans won’t like that. I’ll be on the bench for a month. Motherfucker, I just got off the damn bench.

“Tim,” it isn’t the use of his first name that caught Tim’s attention. It was the slight crack in Batman’s voice, well, Tim was just going to ignore that, “Please. Please come to breakfast. Dick’s worried about you.”

Tim suppresses a snort. Sure, Dick’s worried about me. And you’ve said please. Twice. Wonder if I’m dying. Knowing my luck, I probably am. Fabulous. I wonder if that would get me out of Paperwork Hell…probably not. Damn.

“Look, Batman, it’s been a long day. If you don’t need anything,” Tim pauses for a second. Batman does not look pleased Tim’s brushing him off. “I really need to get some sleep before—”

“You dropped the Wayne from your name.”

Okay, so no sleep for tonight.

Splendid.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“A few months ago.”

“Why?”

The number of reasons why Tim dropped Wayne flew through his brain.

Because you didn’t want me. Because I’m the replacement. Because I almost died trying to save you and I didn’t even get a thank you or a good job sport. Because after the hundredth time Damian said I wasn’t part of the family and nobody disagreed I got the message. Because when I fucked up and almost k—

Tim shuts that thought down hard. Batman being here does not mean he’s going to get bogged down in extra guilt.

Instead, he settles on the easiest answer.

“Because I’m not a Wayne—or a Bat. I’ve been on my own since my Dad died. I stopped expecting any help from you or your family. Don’t worry. I’ll still be your good little soldier when I’m needed. I’ll still run WE until you, Dick, or Damian decides you want it back. The paperwork is all set up; all you have to do is sign on the dotted line. Then you’ll get the CEO title and all your shares back. Once the Wayne’s take it back, I’ll be out of your hair. Permanently.” Tim stands up. Batman’s lips are almost invisible with how closely they are pinched together. “Lock up when you're done planting your bugs.”

Tim strolls by Batman’s unmoving body to his bedroom locking the door choosing to ignore the brooding Bat standing in his living room. He collapses onto his bed. It takes him a full minute to realize his body is trembling.

It has been a while since anyone—outside of the Titans and Tam (and Ra’s, technically, but that was a whole can of worms that he doesn’t want to get into tonight)—had even faked concern for Tim. Now, he’s getting it from not one but two of his former mentors in one day.

It had been hard, harder than Tim would have ever liked to admit, to walk away from the Bats. Now he’s finally broken free of the Bats, the Bats decided to try and reel him back in.

What the actual fuck? It isn’t good enough that I’m their fucking tech support? Now, what? Am I going to have to deal with Bats twenty-four seven or some shit like that?

Fuck. That.

Tim groans before grabbing his laptop. Well, if there isn't any way he’s going to get sleep tonight (thanks, Batman), he might as well do something useful.

Plus, he needs to buy a plane ticket—or ten—for his invented breakfast meeting.

Tam’s going to kill him for leaving so soon.

He's going to have to get her a fruit basket.

Tam hates it when Tim does that.

Chocolate then?

Or would a bonus be better?

Tim hears the soft thud of a Bat existing through the fire escape. A sigh of relief escapes his lungs when he clicks the order confirmation.

*nervous awkward wave*

Hi.

Congrats on making it through! This was one of the hardest things I've ever written so I can only imagine how difficult it was to read. It was also troublesome to edit which, again, thank you Yumixusagi for doing such a wonderful job with it.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

AO3 link here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106355/chapters/44344747

#calling it #chapter 5 #fanfiction #Tim Drake-centric #Tim Drake #tam fox #dick grayson #barbara gordon #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #angst #just so much angst!

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bluephoenixdruidicprincess · 5 years

Text

SPN Questionaire

I wasn’t tagged by anyone, I just thought this would be fun to do. Let me tell you my Supernatural story.

I found this from @hannah-deserved-better

1. When did you start watching Supernatural?

Yikes, its hard to nail down a specific year. I’ve been watching it for years now. How about this: when I found the show, seasons 1-5 had already aired and by the time I finished season 5, season 6 had started airing. So I guess maybe I started watching around September 2010. Yes, its possible to have gone through 5 seasons in the span of a month. Don’t underestimate my bingeing abilities.

2. Who is your favorite in TFW?

Castiel

3. Who is your least favorite in TFW?

Do I have to pick? Because I don’t know if I have one. But if I have to, I guess Jack (I’m sorry, its nothing against Jack). I don’t hate Jack by any stretch of the imagination. I enjoy him, he’s super fun and super adorable, it’s just that if he wasn’t there, I wouldn’t exactly miss him either.

4. Tag your top 5 Supernatural blogs.

@charlie-minion @verobatto-angelxhunter @evvvissticante @intelligentshipper @7faerielights

5. Who is your favorite character (not including TFW)?

Kevin Tran (RIP, alas, you were too good and pure for this universe as well as other universes it would seem)

6. Who is your favorite woman in Supernatural?

Claire Novak. She’s just so incredibly strong inside and out with flaws that only make her even stronger.

7. John or Mary?

I can’t choose. And in what regard? Am I being asked which is better or which is worse? Both have things I like and dislike about them. But that’s what makes them good characters. Neither is perfect and neither was ever meant to be perfect. They’ve both made mistakes, they’ve both done things in the name of them believing it was the right thing to do and while that doesn’t justify their bad decisions, it makes them very interesting characters. But if I am forced to choose one -- and I’m going to assume this is asking about which I like better – I guess Mary simply because we’ve spent more time with her but I’m super excited for ep 300, though. I can’t wait to see what they do with John.

8. What were your first opinions of Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack?

Sam: He was my favorite before Cas showed up. I was definitely what was classified as a Sam girl. I loved his empathetic nature, the nerdiness, I liked that he always questions things before acting, but I like also the dark and grittiness of him as a character, as well.

Dean: He’s the cool guy trope but then I eventually saw that he wasn’t nearly as cool as he wants to be. Dean is the cool guy who really isn’t nearly as cool he wants to be and he knows it. Dean wants to be seen as cool because he wants to live up to what he sees in his father but also deep down knows that’s not really who he is.

Cas: At first I started off with being intrigued by him. Even in the very beginning, you can tell he’s different from the other angels. And for someone like me who loves puzzles, I was intrigued by trying to piece him together and figure out what it was about him that seemed different. And eventually the intrigue I felt for him as a character turned into complete love and adoration as I realized how much I identified with him.

Jack: I was fascinated by him and then came some adoration as the things he does is just so cute and adorable.

9. What’s your favorite season?

It’s either season 5 or season 11. But if I had to pick one, probably season 5. As a whole, it flows so well and nearly every episode is pure gold.

10. What’s your least favorite season?

Season 10, hands down. It does a lot of things I don’t like and to be perfectly honest, its kind of dull and boring. There were a couple of things here and there I like – the Cas, Hannah, and Claire stuff I really enjoy. But the season as a whole just does not work for me. It starts off interesting but then after a certain point, it turns into something completely different and not in a good way.

11. Opinions on Destiel

I ship it but it’s more in the sense of “how they view each other’s life essence.” When I think about Destiel, I don’t believe either of these two are physically attracted to each other but I do feel that romance would play a part in the sense of these two using romance and intimacy as a way to feel close to one another. I also subscribe to the camp that I would love to see Dean and Cas sharing the same vessel for a possible endgame. These two, perfectly comfortable with each other, inhabiting the same vessel being with each other always, constantly giving each other support, to me, that’s a romantic endgame.

12. Do you believe Supernatural queerbaits?

I guess that’ll just depend on how this show ends. We can’t say for certain until we see how everyone’s endgame pans out.

13. Seasons 1-7 or 8-14?

I have favorite seasons in both categories, it’s hard to decide. But I guess 1-7. There are a lot of consecutive good seasons in that category whereas 8-14 is a little bit hit or miss.

14. Favorite Villain

Amara, I think.

15. Do you think they should end the Lucifer plot line?

Yes. I love Mark Pellegrino but they’re taking Lucifer in a very uninteresting direction and I wish they would just let him go as a character. He was great in season 5, he was a fun flirtation in season 11 but the writers should’ve quit while they were ahead with Lucifer. At this point, the only redemption arc I’ll accept for Lucifer, is Lucifer sacrificing himself for Jack or something along those lines.

16. Who do you think has gone through more trauma (Sam, Dean, or Cas)?

I really don’t like this question. I don’t like the question of trauma to be seen as a competition. Everyone’s trauma is legit, no one is worse off or better off compared to how much trauma they’ve been through. Also how are we quantifying trauma here -- # of traumatic experiences, how much the trauma affected them? I feel like this is a very loaded question. I think I’ll pass on this one.

17. What’s your favorite Supernatural episode?

Season 4 Episode 20, The Rapture

18. Do you like case episodes?

Absolutely. Like I said, I love puzzles so I like trying to figure out what’s going on in MotW episodes. And these episodes can be a very welcome break if I’m not really feeling a season’s mytharc.

19. Who do you relate most to in TFW?

Castiel. I’m someone who never feels truly comfortable or like I belong anywhere but I still keep searching. Just like Cas, I have faith one day I’ll find that place.

20. Why do you like Supernatural?

Lots of things. Fantasy, adventure, “family don’t end in blood”, empowerment to keep on fighting even when it might seem like you’ve lost or you have nothing left.

21. If you could bring back one character and kill off another, who would they be?

Lets exchange prophets, okay? Bring back Kevin Tran and kill off Donatello.

#spn

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iatetheramen · 5 years

Photo

Closer

Paisley Paver is well known for her hatred of nature and her mission to pave over it. But what made Paisley despise nature so much in the first place?

A/N: This is a work of fan fiction that uses some characters from the animated series “Wild Kratts”, owned by the Kratt Brothers Company. This work has been cross-posted over a variety of websites under the author’s username. Please feel to leave feedback/criticism here or on a site of your choosing. Image drawn by batmanand16sodiums.

If they hadn't been in the middle of nowhere, this wouldn't have happened.

"Everything will be fine, Paisley. You'll see." Rex tried to whisper comforting thoughts to his best friend. He leaned over as best as he could in his booster seat.

Sitting next to him in a booster seat of her own, Paisley twiddled her thumbs and stared at the dirt on her jeans. She remembered she had bought the pair while out shopping with her mother. She was insistent on purchasing the medium to match Rex's size, and her father wound up altering the length by the end of that same day.

While speeding down the freeway, Paisley looked out the window and was mesmerized by the streetlights. The ebb and flow of their off-white glow put her in a mild trance, leaving her thoughts blank for an instant.

"How much longer?" she asked no one in particular.

"We're almost there, honey. I promise." Rex's father glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "I'm driving as fast as I'm allowed t-"

"No, I mean, how many minutes?" she rasped. Her monotonic tone carried an unmistakable hint of fatigue.

Rex's mother couldn't help but smile a bit. Tossing an "almost there" would have easily been acceptable enough for her son, but never Paisley. She looked at the time on the dashboard. "About five minutes or so. We'll be at the hospital before you know it," she said. She reached into the tote bag at her feet. "Did you want any water?"

Paisley shook her head. "No thank you, I'm okay. Just please keep going as fast as you can."

No one in the car understood how she could be okay. She had spent so much time screaming, her voice could be mistaken for that of a long-time smoker.

Still, Paisley's eyes remained captivated by the passing lights. She thought that she would be able to quell her worries for even a few moments. Try as she might, her mind couldn't help but wander and replay the horrid memories of the few hours that had passed.

If they had all stayed home, this wouldn't have happened.

It was just supposed to be a fun camping trip. Paisley's family and Rex's family made the drive together every year, so this year shouldn't have been any different.

One day, as the sun was setting, the two families set off on different hiking trails. During the Pavers' hike, when the sun had long gone, Paisley's mother attempted to take a photograph of a cliffside flower that had bloomed. She reached far and contorted her body for the best angle. It happened in an instant. She successfully captured the plant's beauty under the moonlight's illumination, but the earth beneath one of her feet had crumbled. With a brief cry, she disappeared into the ravine below. Thud.

A lump made its way into Paisley's throat. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn't swallow it back down. "M-mommy?"

Paisley's father rushed to where her mother last stood. He let out a string of curses; hearing them come from his mouth was so foreign to Paisley, it made her hairs stand on end. Her father swiftly, but carefully, attempted to make his way down to her mother. He had made considerable progress for a few seconds. To Paisley's horror, he too slipped and couldn't regain his footing. Thud.

When Paisley cautiously peeked over the edge, she could barely make out the outline of her father on top of her mother. Both laid still.

Paisley could feel her heart pounding in her ears. "Mommy? Daddy?" She quickly stood up to look and listen all around her. She strained her eyes to get a quick glimpse of her surroundings, but the moonlight could only help her see so far. She searched for any hint or sign that would help her parents. All she could hear was her rapid breathing and... whimpering? She looked down into the ravine once more. Paisley's heart raced. "MOMMY! DADDY!"

Another whimper from her mother.

The little girl spun around to face the forest behind her. She knew all too well that she would easily get lost if she attempted to navigate the trail on her own. Even if she could find her way, the thought of leaving her parents behind terrified her even more. Paisley finally came to the most logical solution any child could think up - she screamed.

"HHEEEELLLLLPP!"

For nearly twenty minutes, Paisley screamed and screamed until her throat was hoarse. She could feel the gritty strain in her throat. Still, she didn't give up. She couldn't give up. When she started crying, she couldn't recall, but her despair was so intense that it was just as loud as any of her screams.

Rex and his family erupted through the trees and came running towards her sobs. Paisley blurted out all that had transpired. Rex's father immediately ran back to the campsite to call for help on his satellite phone. Their tents turned out to be less than half a kilometer away. For safety's sake, Rex's mother instructed the children to stand far from the edge. Paisley attempted to join her, to assist her somehow, but Rex held Paisley back. Rex's devotion to Paisley had always been doubtless and bulletproof, but he knew better than to disobey his own mother in such dire moments. Paisley wanted to resist him, but thought twice and decided against it - she had done her part, and had ruined her voice as a result. Rex's mother called out to the Pavers in the ravine, but Paisley's mother was no longer whimpering. They remained still and silent.

When help arrived, the scene became a chaotic blur for Paisley. Before Paisley knew it, flashing lights came in and chased away the darkness. Coupled with the commotion, the sudden influx of noise brought in by the sirens' shrieks made Paisley and Rex both wail in fear. Police cars, ambulances, and park ranger jeeps rushed into the area. The people pouring out of the vehicles had all come to help Paisley's parents.

If her mother hadn't been so obsessed with nature, this wouldn't have happened.

Paisley was desperate to stay. She wouldn't abandon her parents so easily. But the police insisted that Paisley, Rex, and his family leave immediately and get to the nearest hospital before them. Rex's parents immediately understood that it was primarily to make the rescue more fluid, but it was also meant to protect Paisley from what she might see. Failing to fight back her tears, Paisley begged to stay with the authorities and to somehow aid her parents. All through her hiccuping sobs and whispery voice, she tried to maintain respect with excessive "pleases", "ma'ams," and "sirs." The police were firm with what they wanted, but in return tried to be as gentle as possible. They assured her that they were working hard to rescue her parents, and that they were doing their best. Paisley knew she wanted nothing but the best for her mother and father right then. She quickly became aware of the fact that her efforts were possibly hindering the officers. Paisley reluctantly complied, but on the condition that Rex and his family move as quickly as possible,

In Paisley's mind, the entire ordeal was recollected in a matter of seconds. In the forest, help arrived after what felt like several lifetimes.

Paisley looked up at the clock for what seemed the millionth time that night. Two hours had passed since they arrived at the hospital. She couldn't help but wonder what would make her parents this late. Rex's parents had already spoken to various doctors and nurses multiple times, but none of them had any answers. Paisley noticed that Rex's mother mostly sat still and cradled her face in her hands. Rex's father, on the other hand, could hardly stop pacing as he tossed occasional glances at the children.

Rex, aware of the situation's mood, tried to find quiet amusement by kicking his legs back and forth in his chair. When they first arrived, he had tried to constantly reassure Paisley. She could fool any grown up with her stoicism. If there was anything he knew, it was how she truly felt. He knew that deep down she was terrified. Paisley herself wasn't even aware of how afraid she was; her logical mindset had deceived her into putting her feelings aside. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't think of how else to help her besides offer comforting words. After being dismissed by his friend several times, Rex thought it best to simply stay by her side.

Paisley looked up at the clock again, and felt betrayal at the single minute that had passed. She scowled at its face, blaming it for her parents' tardiness.

"Excuse me," a man said. His voice interrupted Paisley's anger as her attention turned to his stethoscope. "Are you the family that accompanied the Pavers?"

"Yes, yes we are," said Rex's mother. She quickly stood up and moved to be by her husband. "Are they here now?"

"I'm afraid we can't tell you that. Would you happen to know any family members of the Pavers that we can contact?"

Rex's father gently threw up his hands in defeat. "That little girl over there - Paisley - she's their daughter. There's no one else," he said. "Please... Please. We just want to know if everything is alright. Are they finally here?"

The doctor opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again. He moved to be by Paisley's side and decided to squat next to her. "Hi, I'm Doctor Wells. Are you Paisley Paver?"

Paisley, desperate to see her parents again, silently nodded. He motioned towards Rex's parents. "Are these the people that were with you when you were camping?" he asked,"Are they very close with your parents?" Again, Paisley nodded.

"Okay," he said, "Thank you for letting me know. Can you please stay here with your friend?"

"I will, but when can I see my parents?" Paisley looked right into the doctor's eyes, hoping that he would somehow be able to sense her desperation. Dr. Wells pursed his lips once more. It had been a long while since the last time he'd met such a straightforward child. He gave Paisley a small smile before standing up to walk towards the nurses station.

He whispered something to a nurse, and the nurse warmly smiled at Paisley. Dr. Wells signaled for Rex's parents to follow him down a hallway, opposite where they had been facing in the waiting area. Rex's mother managed to call out a "stay put, kids" before disappearing.

Knowingly, Paisley and Rex looked at each other and nodded. Paisley stared at the clock, this time, without looking away. She had lost track of time when her parents needed her most, and she wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. Rex stared at the base of the nurses station. One minute passed. Then another. And another. Four whole minutes had passed before Rex blurted out, "Now."

Paisley tore her eyes away from the clock and saw that the nurse was gone. The two jumped out of their seats, scrambled to hide behind an empty gurney, and faced the hallway that Dr. Wells had gone down. They didn't have to look very far. On the other side of the waiting area wall, right where Paisley had been resting her head, was a windowed conference room. The blinds were down, but the slits were open enough to still see what was going on inside. Rex's mother was embracing his father. Her face was hidden as her shoulders shuddered violently. Rex's father tightly held her, grimly nodding at whatever Dr. Wells was saying.

"Hey, Paisley?" Rex, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene, reached for Paisley's hand in fear. "Is Mom crying?"

Paisley remained silent and hung her head. As she squeezed Rex's hand, she felt resentment arise in response to her dirty jeans.

If they had been closer to a city, this wouldn't have happened.

#Wild Kratts #WildKratts #Paisley Paver #PaisleyPaver #Rex #rex wild kratts #fanfic #fanfiction

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takaraphoenix · 6 years

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I believe you didn't talk about your opinion of Riverdale's season 2 yet. (You know, in it's entirety and not just of some scenes.) But now I'm left curious. What do you think of the rest of the season? And since you wanted to find out on your own: Did you manage to correctly identify the Black Hood before it was confirmed in the show?

Oooh. Oh, sorry. I just always post the excitement when something, ya know, exciting happens. Still unsure about lengthy ramblings that seem too off-topic from the blog. (Yes, I am still pretending this blog has a theme. Let me. xD)

Oh dear, how do I put all the things into words and in order?

To sum it up briefly as an intro: I’m disappointed.

Now, more in detail.

Starting with the things I liked. Which are significantly less than the things I disliked, hence the overall verdict.

Toni is an amazing character and I love her addition to the show. I just hope she will get her own plotline next season, because this season she was only there to either further Jughead’s plot or Cheryl’s. I’m also very eager to see Toni’s and Cheryl’s relationship unfold, because boy do I ship it hard.

I really enjoyed FP and Alice Cooper’s development this season, much to my own surprise. Alice came out being one of my most hated characters first season, but I actually liked her semi-redemption arc and... I... somehow now ship her and FP? I am very disturbed by that, to be honest.

And... with that, we kind of reached the end of the things I enjoyed this season? Which, yeah, sad.

I didn’t like a single one of the main characters’ plotlines this season.

Archie and how his relationship with his father slowly came apart over the course of the season - despite it being semi-mended in the end, this whole arch seemed unnecessarily forced and in contrast to their portrayal in the first season.

Archie and starting his own fucking gang. TWICE.

Seriously. He gives Jughead shit for being a serpent, but then he goes ahead and starts his own gang. And the fucking names. Red Circle. Dark Circle. Wow. Such creativity, much awe.

Archie running after Hiram Lodge all season long was just... intensely disturbing to watch. He just allowed himself to be sucked in deeper and deeper.

So did Veronica and with her it annoyed me even more. First season Veronica seemed so much like the girl who was against her criminal father. And now she just... doubled down on the crime hard. And I genuinely don’t know what she was expecting? Because the girl acted like what happened was somehow a surprise or something in the end, when she turned against him again. Like. What... What did she think would happen...?

Then there was Betty’s plot.

I liked that she confided in Archie and her friends about the Black Hood and didn’t just do a solo gig. But her trying to get her brother and them just immediately accepting the creep into the family without so much as a fucking background check first.

And Jughead literally went from the sweet nerd with a blog to the fucking king of the gang. Like. Good lords, slow it down some. It seemed so incredibly rushed just how fast he came to accept the serpents as his family and the school as his home. I think that his “becoming a serpent and becoming king of the serpents” plot should have been stretched out over two seasons.

Cheryl’s plot was... so over the top too. Conversion camp? Her mom trying to murder grandma? And... her characterization was all over the place too. One second she is the Queen with the power-moves cutting her mom’s oxygen, the next she is the crying girl in the corner, weak and helpless. I mean, I get that with everything that happened last and this season to her, she wouldn’t be fully stable, but it really felt more like convenient writing. “Mh, we need more tension, so how about Cheryl is utterly helpless and defenseless in the next scene?” turning into “Oh but we could use a badass move, how about she just attacks the serial killer with her bow and arrows and without being the least bit intimidated?”.

Also Cheryl and Rose now living alone in the mansion... Honestly, instead of making her sick grandma her guardian, I think auntie Alice should have stepped up.

The relationship between Cheryl and Betty is really fascinating and I would genuinely enjoy seeing more of it. Like, having Cheryl move in with them, she can have Polly’s room. She would be forced to live a more down-to-Earth life.

The whole evil twin of her dad thing was really unnecessary. I mean. Seriously. It added absolutely nothing to the plot.

Just, overall, there was way too much going on this season for my taste.

And not just too much as in too many plotlines, also just... too dark, too deep, too heavy.

This show is indeed taking the Desperate Housewives route, but it hits it harder than I expected.

That is to say, the first season offers a genuinely intriguing, vaguely over-dramatic mystery that happens and that brings an unlikely band of protagonists together to solve it. Following seasons will so desperately try to top it that the dramatic event is completely blown out of proportions and loses absolutely all grasp on reality.

And that’s what happened this season.

We get a serial killer. And the mafia. And a psycho imposter brother. And an evil twin. And a conversion camp. And a gang war. And a serial rapist. And a drug problem.

That’s just too many “and”s.

First season worked perfectly. It had that one mystery that they had to solve and then some sub-plots around it. That mystery was one murder.

Now, to your other question regarding the Black Hood: HONESTLY HALF THE TIME I FORGET THAT HE IS A CHARACTER ON THIS SHOW.

Hal is so bland and so unimportant. When he made his first appearance this season, I legit went “OH right Alice has a husband! Ooops!”.

I figured it out at one point, but then they went misdirection with that second, or third, I lost count, Black Hood and I grew doubtful because why the fuck.

Last season, with daddy Blossom, it took me really long to figure it out. But when it was revealed, it was a thing that made sense. They set the mystery up so you had to work to figure it out, but it made sense plotwise.

This one? They purposefully wrote it so it doesn’t make sense.

There is no legit motive. They retconned some “Oh by the way his dad was a murderer but he pinned it on someone else and momma brainwashed him and Betty’s words in the last season finale were a trigger to turn him into a serial killer” so hard that it’s just pathetic.

And how he conveniently managed to stop killing when he got it pinned on someone else. That was literally only plot-convenience to make the viewer believe they got the right guy, because Hal had no logical motivation to stop killing. It was never about hiding his crimes? He literally wrote letters and made phone-calls and flaunted it in everybody’s face, why would he find a scapegoat and then stop killing? That’s just... bullshit. He should have, logically speaking, gone after like Hiram Lodge or some other scumbag criminal.

Nothing about that shit could have been guessed.

I mean, I did guess that Hal would be the son of the murderer. Or the one surviving child from the murder. But then they put the janitor in and killed that.

Last season’s mystery came natural. This one was forced in every way of the word.

That just completely took the fun out of it for me.

Well, that and the sheer amount of cruelty and brutality this season. There was no fun this season. Last season still had its lighthearted moments. This one didn’t.

It’s not just taking a bad Desperate Housewives route, that route is crossing streets with the bad Teen Wolf route of going grittier and darker and removing all color and fun from something that used to have color and fun and then somehow expecting that to be good. It is not. It never will be.

Either make something gritty and dark from the get-go so it attracts the right crowd of people, or make something that has jokes and lightheartedness in it and embrace that. But don’t attempt a genre-change like that. It’s a failure.

The musical episode was really out of place for me too. It didn’t fit to the tone of this season at all. Fun musical stuff could have gone with last season. Not to mention the musical could have been Kevin’s plotline. But... Kevin kind of didn’t get a plotline at all. He got one episode of musical thrown his way and that vague shit about him fucking in the woods and that was, essentially, it.

I am also not a hundred percent sure; did Betty and Jughead actually fuck or just make out...? I usually look away when they start undressing on screen and only look up again when the scene is over. I fail to see any reason for sex scenes at all, period, in literally any show, but especially so in a show about supposed teenagers? It’s just... weird for me. But if they did, fuck you show. I want asexual Jughead. Also, this ship has zero chemistry.

And can someone maybe get Betty a therapist now? Last season with her turning into psycho Betty with the fucking wig was already Really Disturbing, but she doubled down on that hard this season? And? Is she supposed to have some form of... personality disorder? Is that intentional? Either way, she helped cover up a murder this season and got psychologically tortured by her father who is a serial killer, so yeah please get her professional help.

So, yeah. That’s it.

I found this season too forced, too dark and too brutal and if the show doubles down on those elements with the same rate that it did from season 1 to season 2, then season 3 is going to be DCEU levels of dark and gritty.

I really hope they will slow down and that they will start remembering that you don’t have to rush from one traumatic, brutal event to the next murder to the next attempted rape and so on, but that you can... pause in between and put something more light in, to even things out. How do writers keep forgetting that...?

#Riverdale #Season 2 #Phoe's Random Show Rants #sunnnnyy

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cucinacarmela-blog · 6 years

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Our Favorite Breakfast Cereals | Serious Eats

New Post has been published on https://cucinacarmela.com/our-favorite-breakfast-cereals-serious-eats/

Our Favorite Breakfast Cereals | Serious Eats

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[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Breakfast

Everything you need to make the most important meal of the day delicious.

There’s nothing inherently child-specific about a bowl of cold toasted grains soaked in milk, yet breakfast cereal seems to be inextricably associated with kids in the American imagination. Sure, it helps that most boxed cereals you’ll finding lining your supermarket aisles today come liberally infused with sugar (quite a turnabout for a food category that started with Seventh-Day Adventist health nuts, who would probably be pretty horrified if they could get a glimpse of the industry today), but there are other reasons.

You could begin, for instance, with the unchallenging flavors of corn and wheat combined with milk, making cereal an easy sell for the harried parents, usually moms, raising fussy eaters, who saw themselves reflected in generations of harried parents raising fussy eaters on TV. There’s the minimal preparation required, obviously, which made cereal the first meal many of us learned to fix for ourselves.

Add to that relentless marketing featuring every kind of kid bait you can think of—bright colors; unshakable jingles; talking animals (and cartoon chefs, and a leprechaun, and a captain of some never-seen navy); the promise of strength and coolness and superpowers; the insider-y nod to your membership in a special club that adults can’t infiltrate; and the lure of sugar sugar sugar—and it’s not hard to see how the cereals that accompanied us throughout our youth became a days-long conversation topic among the Serious Eats staff.

We’ve learned that few childhood cereals are cherished only on their own merits: The rituals that we created for eating them, the manic mascots that charmed us, and the cartoons that we ate them by on Saturdays were just as important. And we’ve learned that you can make nearly 50% of the SE staff happy by sitting them down in front of a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Here are the cereals that we still dream of forming our own secret kids’ club around, even as grown-ups.

Alpha-Bits Cereal

After an unfortunate incident wherein three-year-old Stella was left alone with Rainbow Brite cereal long enough to eat an entire box, my parents tried to steer me away from cereals with artificial coloring. That still left me with a number of excellent options—Pops, Honey Nut Cheerios, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, et cetera—the best of which was Alpha-Bits Cereal. They taste about like Lucky Charms sans the Styrofoam marshmallow bits, which was fine by me, and I’d like to think my love for a frosted alphabet helped steer me toward the baker/writer life I lead now. A-B-C-Delicious! (This bonus commercial is before my time, but everyone deserves to hear MJ singing about Alpha-Bits, especially in a video that includes The Jackson 5 sitting down for cereal around a $14,000 Eero Saarinen dining room set. Yes, I did the math.) —Stella Parks, pastry wizard

Fruit & Fibre

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I knew and loved many a cereal when I was a kid—the candy-sweet nonsense, like Cookie Crisp and Lucky Charms, that my grandmother plied us with when we came for visits, as well as the more quotidian and practical choices of my parents, like Kix and Life. (Thinking back on it, I’m not even sure they bought Life that often, which speaks to its outsize importance in my mind. Life gets soggy faster than almost anything else, and it’s still the best damn cereal on the planet.) I was even #blessed enough to be able to enjoy a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch fairly regularly in front of Muppet Babies.

But my most steadfast breakfast companion, probably starting when I was about eight and continuing into my teenage years, was Fruit & Fibre (now apparently styled “Fruit ‘n Fibre”). Yep, I latched on to a sensible mixture of wheat flakes, nuts, and dried fruit, named after a dietary necessity and marketed at retirees, and I suppose Mom and Dad were only too happy to oblige this particular whimsy.

Fruit & Fibre was known in the ’80s and ’90s for the tagline “Tastes so good, you forget the fiber!”—which, again, doesn’t scream “youthful image”—and a series of commercials that poked self-deprecating fun at the inexplicably British spelling, in which one character would insist that the correct pronunciation was “fruit and fee-bray.” I don’t specifically remember this one, starring Tim Conway, but it’s representative and charmingly laid-back. I have been a very old person on the inside for a very long time. —Miranda Kaplan, senior editor

Frosted Flakes

I grew up in a pretty healthy household, and that meant hell no to the sugary cereals. We had a lot of puffed-millet, cardboard-like stuff that tasted like nothing, though I do suppose it was a bit healthier (except when I put a lot of Splenda on it, which, now that I think about it, is totally gross). The only time we ever got sugary cereal was when my dad went grocery shopping, and his all-time favorite is Frosted Flakes. When that bright-blue Kellogg’s box made it onto our cereal shelf, I went totally crazy with it—it was a classic kid-who-never-has-sugar scenario.

Recently I had brunch at MiMi’s Diner in Prospect Heights, where, as a little amuse-bouche, they give you a blissful mixture of colorful sugary cereals in a little bowl—all those classics, like Cap’n Crunch and Fruit Loops. It is such a treat. I guess I can thank all that cardboard of my youth for helping me appreciate it. —Ariel Kanter, marketing director

Cookie Crisp

I still have cereal for breakfast (and sometimes dinner) every day. These days I’m more of a Cheerios or Grape-Nuts eater, but as a kid, I definitely got hooked on the more sugar-oriented cereals, and Cookie Crisp was among the many options I rotated through. A bowl full of tiny chocolate chip cookies. Did I need more of a reason to like it as an eight-year old? Though perhaps the pair of cartoon crooks (including a dog) that served as the brand’s mascot had something to do with it…that “CooooOOOOOkie Crisp” jingle is pretty solid. —Vicky Wasik, visual director

Grape-Nuts

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The thing I remember most about my childhood trips to the grocery store is setting up camp in front of the wall of multicolored cereal boxes, wheedling and pleading with my parents as they shook their heads and jabbed their fingers at the panel of nutrition facts.

I mostly blame the ensuing tears on the astonishing effectiveness of cereal commercials—especially the kind that featured greedy adults with Peter Pan syndrome, trying to steal cereal from children who, in this gritty, high-stakes universe, went to great lengths to save their most treasured possession: brightly hued, sugar-saturated breakfast candy. Sweetened cereals, they proclaimed, were a child’s birthright, and if you weren’t getting your fill, it was almost certainly because some grown-up—like, say, your mom or dad—was an evil asshole.

Which is why my favorite breakfast cereal was virtually any breakfast cereal I wasn’t eating. For the most part, our pantry was limited to Cheerios or generic “health” flakes, with rare appearances from Raisin Bran and, on a good day, a box of Honey Nut Cheerios. Within the confines of those prison walls, I found myself with a particular affinity for Grape-Nuts, which would sink into a dense heap beneath my milk and form a gritty cement onto which I could project visions of overflowing bowls of Fruit Loops, Golden Grahams, and Cocoa Pebbles. Now that I’m a marginally health-conscious adult, I genuinely enjoy a bowl of Grape-Nuts. But back in ’93, they drew me in with their masochistic appeal: a meal that captured the true extent of my hardship, deprivation, and suffering. —Niki Achitoff-Gray, executive managing editor

Honey Nut Cheerios

I’ll happily eat Honey Nut Cheerios at any time of day or night, for any meal. They make an excellent appetizer, salad, entrée, or dessert; each little O possesses the perfect balance of sweet and savory (but mostly sweet). And, of course, as a kid growing up in a mostly sugar-free household in Berkeley, California, I could never eat them at home, which meant I searched frantically through cupboards and drawers whenever I was at a friend’s house, looking for that big red-and-yellow cardboard box. When I found it, I was in heaven. I still don’t buy them for my own pantry, but if I ever see that signature box tucked behind the grown-up food in a friend’s kitchen, I finish it off. —Elazar Sontag, intern

Corn Pops

Growing up in New Delhi, India, in the late 1980s and early 1990s, we couldn’t buy cereal, and there weren’t any cereal ads on TV. There was no joy in our house, and no pleasure in our home. I did pine after Corn Pops quite a bit, since I got a taste of some at my American friends’ houses, even though the Pops cut up the inside of my mouth. And, apropos of nothing at all, the guy who played Jesse Pinkman in Breaking Bad was in a Corn Pops commercial. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

Kashi Heart to Heart

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I have a confession to make: I did not eat cereal until I was 15 years old. Not because I was above consuming cleverly marketed sugar bombs for breakfast (because I ate plenty of Eggos), but because I’m lactose-intolerant. This was a time before I could eat my cereal with almond milk, as I do now, so it just wasn’t an option for me. Then, during my sophomore year of high school, I had a very bright idea: dry cereal with raspberries and blackberries. The juiciness of 10 or 12 berries bursting in every two to three bites would surely mimic the milk-and-cookies effect of cereal with milk, right? So I picked out a box of Kashi Heart to Heart cereal in Honey and Oat flavor, and a container each of raspberries and blackberries, and crunched my way through that for the rest of high school. I remember the pieces sometimes being so rough and scratchy that I’d scrape the roof of my mouth on them, but the flavor was good enough, and it allowed me to finally eat my cereal. Now that I’m talking about it, I think I may actually be sparking a craving. But this time, I just might add a splash of almond milk—because I can. —Kristina Bornholtz, social media editor

Golden Grahams and Cinnamon Toast Crunch

Junk foods were rarely an option in my home, and that meant no sugary cereals either. I tasted Lucky Charms only a few times, and that was at a friend’s house after a sleepover. Golden Grahams and Cinnamon Toast Crunch were as sweet as my mom was willing to allow, and those two, to this day, are among my favorites, especially when combined in the same bowl. They go together so well, the nut-and-honey notes of Golden Grahams and the sugar-and-spice in Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and they both create, whether together or alone, some of the most delicious cereal milk in existence. I don’t think I can pick between them, nor should I have to—I was cereal-deprived enough as a kid as it was. (Also, shout-out to Quaker Cracklin’ Oat Bran, which was a decently sweet cereal on regular rotation at my home until health-conscious parents got worried about all the coconut oil in it. My, how times have changed.) —Daniel Gritzer, managing culinary director

…and More Cinnamon Toast Crunch

As a kid I’d spend all week daydreaming about Saturday, when I would wake up at the butt-crack of dawn to get my fill of cartoons and sugar. I was allowed to eat foods repped by colorful characters only on these early weekend mornings—likely because Pop-Tarts and Eggo waffles were the only things that gave my parents a day to sleep in. I wanted to maximize my sugar intake during these precious unsupervised moments, so my breakfast of choice was always Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I mean, it’s so overloaded with cinnamon sugar that the slogan was “The taste you can see.” I still don’t understand how this stuff passes as children’s breakfast food, but I’ll never forget those mornings spent doing lines of cinnamon sugar with Hey, Arnold! in the background. —Sohla El-Waylly, assistant culinary editor

Trix

“Silly rabbit, Trix are for kids!” will forever be ingrained in my brain. I loved that this cereal was so colorful. I’m pretty sure none of the flavors actually differed from one another, but I do remember that at one point the original balls were replaced by actual fruit-shaped pieces, to try to convince you that there was real lemon, grape, lime, raspberry, and blueberry flavor in there. —Vicky Wasik, visual director

Rice Krispies Treats Cereal

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A cereal I remember being better in theory than in actuality. I’m assuming this commercial’s UFO references were crafted to piggyback on the paranormal-activity obsession that ran rampant throughout the late ’80s and ’90s, if kids’ television of the era is anything to go by. (See: Goosebumps, The Secret World of Alex Mack, Ghostwriter, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles…okay, that one might be a stretch.) The combo of sugary cereal plus thrills definitely hit the right note for me, and seeing a box of Rice Krispies Treats Cereal in the supermarket incited equal parts excitement and chills-creeping, sensation-laden terror, conjuring up late Saturday mornings glued to the tube over a bowl of (essentially) starchy candy that was “part of a complete breakfast.” Whoever said the ’50s and ’60s represented the golden age of advertising was clearly never a wide-eyed, impressionable child cruising the cereal aisle, visions of RKTC commercials dancing in their head. —Marissa Chen, office manager

Frosted Mini-Wheats

There were many long pit stops on my cereal journey growing up. Earlier on, there were the sweeter, more sugary stops, like Cap’n Crunch, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and Lucky Charms. At summer camp I would add extra sugar to my Frosted Flakes, purposefully stir the cereal so the extra sugar sank all the way down, and eat the sugary milk goop at the bottom of the bowl with the spoon. Later on I became ever-so-slightly healthier with Honey Nut Cheerios, a very long stint on Honey Bunches of Oats (still a favorite), and a brief and shameful period on Raisin Bran. My final destination—and probably my all-time favorite to this day—was Frosted Mini-Wheats. Every bite has exactly the same ratio of ingredients, which I appreciate: just the right amount of fibrous (healthy!) and sugary. The texture is perfect, assuming you have the know-how to let the cereal soak up just the right amount of milk so it’s not dry and crunchy, then eat it quickly before it gets soggy. A seasoned veteran such as I am may even split the bowl into two or three rounds of cereal addition, thus ensuring that no piece gets too saturated before your spoon reaches it. —Tim Aikens, front-end developer

Wheat Chex

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I ate more than my fair share of cereal when I was a kid, usually while sprawled out on the living room floor watching reruns of Saved by the Bell or DuckTales. I reserved the more sugary cereals (Cookie Crisp, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Cap’n Crunch, and probably some that start with other letters of the alphabet) to be eaten as a dry snack and primarily ate “healthier” cereals, like Wheat Chex, with milk. I was never a big fan of cereal milk, so as I emptied the bowl, I would repeatedly add more and more cereal, until most of the milk had been absorbed. —Paul Cline, developer

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jmuo-blog · 6 years

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New Post has been published on https://jmuo.com/our-favorite-breakfast-cereals-serious-eats/

Our Favorite Breakfast Cereals | Serious Eats

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[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Breakfast

Everything you need to make the most important meal of the day delicious.

Alpha-Bits Cereal

Fruit & Fibre

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Frosted Flakes

Cookie Crisp

Grape-Nuts

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Honey Nut Cheerios

Corn Pops

Kashi Heart to Heart

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Golden Grahams and Cinnamon Toast Crunch

…and More Cinnamon Toast Crunch

Trix

Rice Krispies Treats Cereal

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Frosted Mini-Wheats

Wheat Chex

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beachandtmusic · 6 years

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Top 10 albums mid year

By Nick Beach

I’ve been ranking albums mid year and at year’s end for four years now and I’ve been writing on and off for about five years now and this had to be one of the toughest pieces I’ve ever written. 2018 has been a hell of a year for music and on top of that I like to be timely with things. I waited until mid July to publish this because I struggled so much to come up with my 10 favorite albums so far this year and to properly order them. Hey I tried here it is.

1.ye - Kanye West: I was puzzled even with the number one spot but yeah it goes to Kanye. I may be in the minority on the Internet with my opinion that Kanye’s run of short GOOD Music albums spanning over May and June was a good decision. ye has multiple songs I could legitimately see myself returning to in 10 years. No Mistakes and Ghost Town are generational songs that have still given me chills on every listen. I also think this minor run of people that are still hanging on to Kanye’s mainstream popularity playing Yikes and All Mine on the radio and in clubs is extremely fun because it makes me feel like a kid and Kanye’s talent hasn’t changed despite his public perception.

2.My Dear Melancholy - The Weeknd: Sticking with the short album route I think Abel produced one of the best albums of the year front to back. Try Me, Wasted Times and I was Never There seems to be the three song stretch I’ve returned to most this year. A stellar live performance also helped me make this decision but in terms of blending high level singing with high level production not much has matched My Dear Melancholy so far this year.

3.Kids See Ghosts - Kids See Ghosts: I think the shorter album typically has a much higher probability of every song being good not having as many potential skips on a full listen and Kids See Ghosts is a perfect example of that. Reborn has grown on me bigtime with the way Cudi changes his voice on that final chorus. Kanye’s verse on Cudi Montage is also my favorite verse of the year and it rivals Ghost Town for the song that induces the most emotion for me. Feel the Love is also so much fun and the screaming will make this an awesome pump up track for years to come.

4.Wide Awake! - Parquet Courts: Parquet Courts is a rock band from Denton, Texas residing in New York making some of the most creative music out today. I found the record from a positive Fantano review and wasn’t a huge fan after my first listen. After giving it another listen it really started to grow on me as some of the instrumental pallets and punk rock singing are so catchy and hard to stay away from. I see Parquet Courts as a band I’ll be listening to for years to come and they’ve really helped me get me rock fix in thus far in 2018.

5.Knock Knock - DJ Koze - Hats off to Noah Simpson for recommending this album to me as a good study album. Instead I used it as a packing album while moving out of my apartment when my school year was over and it’s been in rotation ever since. This is some of the most relaxed yet entertaining electronic music I’ve heard in a long time. Pick Up, Muddy Funster and Bonfire are definite highlights for me. It’s a long album you’ll never get sick of due to how versatile it is. It can be played in just about any atmosphere and brighten the mood on a dime.

6.Harder Than Ever - Lil Baby: I was a little late to the game with Baby as I started listening shortly before this record from the Atlanta emcee was released. He has now vaulted to hip hop stardom off his hit single Yes Indeed but Harder Than Ever has so much more than that. Cash, Life Goes On and First Class have some of the most catchy lyrics of the year and Southside is a certified banger from trap music’s best producer. The album is full of trap heat and Baby brings back the feeling of being an early Young Thug and Future fan as they began to gain far more recognition from the hip hop community a few years back.

7.Daytona - Pusha T: Now that the tears dry and the pain takes over, let’s talk that payola. This opening line to Push’s Santeria is a laid over my favorite beat in the run of Kanye produced albums for the GOOD Music camp. Daytona is an extremely memorable album full of hard production and gritty street rap from the longest running trapper of the year. The beat and vocal change in the middle of If You Know Your Know is so hard and the fact the song Infrared has become a squad wide joke and still manages to be a good song is pretty impressive.

8.Freddie - Freddie Gibbs: This is an album that could potentially vault higher on the year end list with more listens but the quality is surely there. The song Triple Threat is classic Gibbs delivering hard bars over a banger beat. The album is littered with classic Freddie Gibbs which I think was a huge hope for his fans after his last release You Only Live 2wice was a bit underwhelming.

9.Activated - Tee Grizzley: I initially expected to be higher on my list but with time I’ve realized it’s not as easy to get through the whole album as it is to my favorite tracks on it. Tee is still one of the best out at going from relentless rap to emotional singing and making it sound good with the snap of a finger but overall the project isn’t as good as its highlights. Jetskii Girzzley, Bag, Too Lit and Robbin are all stellar tracks however and remain firmly in rotation.

10.Culture II - Migos: I had to do it. No I know the album isn’t that great overall but it still has some of my favorite hip hop tracks this year that I will never stop going back to. This album has created countless jokes amongst my friends and me and has produced I couldn’t even tell you how many instagram captions and comments once our excitement for Huncho Jack died down. Supastars, CC, Too Much Jewelry, Open It Up and Movin’ Too Fast are amazing tracks from the Migos and you can’t discount their talent and ability to make fun hip hop despite their poor decision to make a 105 minute album with a ton of fluff.

#alec do you have bread?!#hey uh Zane bought me a free dinner

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writingscififantasy · 6 years

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Writing Platforms and Apps

Disclaimer: Alright, I know this isn’t strictly sci-fi or fantasy-themed, BUT. Too bad, this goes out for everyone who writes, ever.

So, writing is hard. Full stop. Writing is difficult, and irritating, and oftentimes downright infuriating- and as much as we writers adore it, we could all use some help, right?

Enter some tools of the trade- writing platforms and apps! Every writers uses something to write- be it the traditional methods of pens and notebooks to brainstorm, regular MS Word programs, online writing websites, or fancy programs like Scrivener for plotting- and all of them have their merits and downfalls. There are a ton of platforms upon which one can write. There’s no way I could get through all of them in one sitting, let afford some of the fancier ones out there (curse you, fundamental necessities!), but for this post I wanted to discuss the 4 programs that I use (and have been using for more than a year) and think are especially helpful not only for writing anything, but for...wait for it...NaNoWriMo endeavors! Woooh, it’s time for Camp NaNo!!

Ahem.

So, let’s begin!

First up to bat is...Writeometer!!

This one here is an app available for free- yes, FREE, one of my favorite words right there- that is designed specifically for helping you track your writing progress. You can enter as many projects as you like, decide on your word count goals and your preferred deadline to reach that goal (perfect for NaNo!), and it will calculate how many words per day you’ll need to write- and, bonus, you can set subtle reminders to pop up at certain times to tell you it’s time to write. Even more bonuses- this app has tons of other features that are fun to use, including a writing log to record how you’re doing, graphs to show your progress, a list of stats pertaining to each project (for instance, your averages per day/week/month, your writing streaks, your best writing days, etc), a nifty little toolbox with a dictionary/thesaurus/word of the day/random words generator, AND a writing sprints timer that rewards you guavas each time you write for 25 minutes. Fun fact, guavas can be virtually exchanged on the app for prizes you set- mine include things like, “3 guavas to eat a cookie!” and “10 guavas to bang head onto desk while yelling!”. Great stuff!

Next up- another app I use very often is JotterPad!

This one is very simple- while Writeometer was meant to deal with the nitty gritty statistics and tracking of writing, JotterPad is just a clean, simple mobile platform for writing. Nothing more, nothing less. You can create new documents and folders, and organize them any which way you desire- which, in my anxious writer brain, is wonderful- and if you want, add your Google Drive to it for backup so nothing is ever lost. Each folder and document is automatically made with different font colors, which I think is a nice touch, and every document has options for a viewing mode (closer spacing, no keyboard, cleaner look) and an edit mode (allows you to write, shows spelling errors, wider spacing for easier typing). Also in each doc is a dictionary and thesaurus option, a dark screen option for writing at night or sensitivity to light, and a short collection of stats for the doc (word count, character count, reading time, etc). This is all in just the basic app- there is a pro version that brings in other cool features like different writing fonts and document formats, but it costs money and I’ve never had any need for it.

Onto the third program I like to use- myWriteClub!

This one I just discovered a little while ago, courtesy of a fellow NaNo buddy, but I love it. The site is still in beta, so feel free to jump on the early bandwagon! This is a website, not an app (although here’s hoping they make an app for it...), but it’s 100% free and only requires an email address to make an account. The whole site is oriented towards writing sprints, and they make it fun- for NaNo and Camp NaNo, you can make a private sprint that only people with the link can join up on, and for anyone else there’s a global sprint going 24/7. What are these “sprints”, you might ask? Writing sprints last 25 minutes, and start every half hour- and on this site, you can watch your friends word count meter fill up in real time. Don’t worry- nobody can see your writing, only your word count. It makes NaNo writing sprints wayyyy easier, trust me. I’d recommend setting up a Dropbox account for all your writing on the site to be automatically uploaded to- there’s only one window you can write it, and there’s no saving documents on site- which I find is actually good, because there’s no getting lost.

Now, last and certainly not least- my FAVORITE writing site, 4thewords!

Okay, I’ll try to restrain myself here. I’ve been using 4thewords for over a year now, and I ADORE it. That being said, I will mention that this is also a fairly new site, still working out some of the bugs and getting updated all the time- I’ve never had a problem, but I wanted to mention it. This site is geared towards making writing fun, which it accomplishes by turning it into a game- a game with adorable monsters. Basically, you have a little avatar (whom you can edit and outfit as you please) and a map of different places you can unlock as you progress- each location has different monsters, which you can “fight” by writing a certain amount of words in a specific amount of minutes. For instance, to defeat the Wignow you must write 250 words in 30 minutes. To defeat the Pester, 500 words in 50 minutes; the Mawt, 1,400 words in 210 minutes. 4thewords is set up like an actual game- for each monster defeated, you get little prizes that you can trade in at the marketplace, and you can boost your fighting prowess by making or buying armor and weapons. There are also different missions you can run- namely things like, “defeat 20 of XXX monster”, after which you get a bigger prize.

I mean, look at this little monster. LOOK AT IT.

Even better things! I know, I know, I’ll wrap it up quick- 4thewords runs lots of different events, including Love Week (for Valentine’s Day), Tico Week (for Costa Rica Independence Day), Winter Wonderland (for Christmas and winter holidays), annnnnd...NaNoWriMo!!! Each event has special missions and monsters to fight, and has special prizes. There’s one going on right now, actually, for Camp NaNo, and an even bigger one in November for the main event. Also, 4thewords has a Read section where you can post your writing, if so desired- and every year so far, there’s been a writing contest with real prizes for people who post their writing projects. Not to mention, I’ve spoken with the creator themselves when I changed my account email, and they were so, so polite and accommodating. The only downfall to this site is that yes, it costs $4USD a month to subscribe- but, with everything it’s got going on, from active forums to incredible graphics (the ART, you guys, holy sh*t) and an lengthy, intricate ongoing storyline, I’m okay with the cost and I think it makes sense. Plus, bonus- there’s a month long free trial upon making an account, so if you’re not sure about it, you can try it out for free!

Alright, I know that was a lot of info all at once. I want to say right here, right now that I have not at all been asked to review on these sites or make a post about them in any way- this post is purely my opinions, with no coercion or bribing or whatever else. This is just me, ranting- I mean, sharing- some of the writing platforms that I, personally, find fun and helpful for me in hopes that someone else finds it useful.

And hey, if you’ve ever used one of these platforms, tell me your thoughts! Or even better, send me your favorite apps and/or programs- maybe I’ll make a compilation post of them, who knows. Questions about them? Hit me up.

(Bonus: LOOK AT THIS LITTLE STINKER, I CAN’T EVEN FUNCTION)

Okay, I’m done, I’m done.

#camp nano #camp nano april 2018 #writing #writing blog #4thewords #jotterpad #writeometer #mywriteclub #not even joking guys i adore 4thewords an ungodly amount #writing help #nanowrimo #happy easter all my easter-celebrating friends!

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paradiselostbythedashboardlight · 6 years

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So in honor of me finally rewatching The Last Jedi, I thought it might be fun to do a little retrospective and also rewatch the Force Awakens just to see how they flow together etc. Here is a rambling list of my thoughts

The Force Awakens rewatch:

1. It really has to be said, but Finn objectively has a much better part in this movie. He’s so funny and so charming and so relatable. But one of the things I think fan fiction made me mentally edit out was that he really is a super reluctant hero! Like, he legitimately never has any interest in joining the Resistance, most of the help he gives to them is motivated by quid pro quo for helping rescue Rey. Basically, I think this sets up his TLJ plot line a lot better than I had initially thought, because Finn is super uncommitted to the cause.

2. Finn and Rey are a fucking delight. One thing that this movie does so well is keeping them almost constantly in peril and they are just electric when they’re bouncing back and forth off of one another. Also I’d kinda forgotten (again, the perils of fan characterization) but Rey is actually very prickly to everyone at first and seeing her warming up to Finn and eventually even hugging him when he inadvertently does the most powerful thing he could (coming back for her) is absolutely precious. I ship them hard. And yes romantically, but I also feel like I won’t be mad if it doesn’t end romantically in the movies as long as they still are the most important people in each other’s lives.

3. Rey is also pretty unnerved by her Jedi powers and I think that subtly sets up a lot of her reactions to Luke’s training. She really is trying to play it like she knows what to expect and she’s ready to be trained, but she’s basically just putting on a brave face when her powers actually really confuse and overwhelm her in TFA. Also I TOTALLY forgot Kylo Ren being a weirdly elitist dick the whole time about her like “what? some girl? some rando scrapper???” like calm down there is meritocracy in this universe.

4. There are a lot of good jokes, to whoever says that Star Wars shouldn’t be goofy and have a lot of tension ruining humor, I raise you the scene where Finn is trying to put a bandage on Chewbacca and BB-8 hears him roaring and literally screams and runs away. Also Harrison Ford having the best two lines of his career essentially back to back with “that’s not how the Force works!” and then immediately “what do you mean you’re cold???”

5. I know he doesn’t have a lot to do in the second half of the movie, but the pure gleeful joy I feel when Poe is shooting down TIE fighters and there’s this huge pan shot and Finn goes “THAT’S ONE HELL OF A PILOT” will rectify any sins.

6. Seriously note, but this also gave me a better sense of how Leia’s storyline was meant to progress. She’s the one who has hope in TFA that her son can be redeemed and not just that, he can be brought home and everything will be fine. It takes Han’s death and all of the events of TLJ before she is finally ready to admit to Luke that her son his gone and he can never come back. I think by the time I saw TLJ I’d forgotten just how wildly hopeful she was and how crushing it is to see her abandon that.

7. Additionally, Kylo Ren is super fucking creepy in this movie. Like, I think again that the fan culture has made me forget that, but he’s legit terrifying. And that’s great, I really like how scary he is and he’s a great villain. But one thing I noticed is that everyone sorta portrays him like this super emotionally volatile explosive screaming guy, but he actually spends the majority of TFA speaking in a very creepy flat monotone. Essentially the only hints of anger you ever get are in his violent actions, but his voice is always calm. It’s only at the end when you see him really come apart at the seams and start screaming at people. Anyways, I think that was very telling for how accurate Snoke really is when he says that killing Han kinda made him snap. ALSO DAMN THE SOUND EDITING OF THE FORCE INTERROGATIONS IS GREAT.

8. Rey’s theme fucking goes. That’s all I have to say, it’s dope.

9. The stormtrooper screaming TRAITOR is exactly as funny as I remember it being.

10. Hux is a lot more... competent here? Or at least, he’s not a cartoon character. I don’t really feel strongly that one or the other is better though because I got enjoyment out of both.

11. This movie is a lot more of a World movie than a plot movie. I don’t know how else to put it. I think that’s why some love it and some felt cold while feeling completely differently about TLJ. But this movie is trying to get you hype for the world of Star Wars whereas TLJ is really focusing in on a particular plot and thus narrows scope and focus a lot.

The Last Jedi rewatch:

1. So switching from one movie to the other rapidly, I definitely felt a bit of tone whiplash at the beginning. Particularly the Poe and Hux dialogue is just super goofy and Hux’s face is making really campy expressions the whole time. But as I continued, I think I realized that actually the tone of this movie isn’t that much sillier. Yes it has porgs (and you can pry them away from my cold dead hands) but the majority of the scenes are actually pretty grim. Overall, this movie has a lot more death and destruction. No one but Han really dies in TFA and we barely notice when the Resistance loses a ship. The tone of this movie is actually pretty bleak for the most part, which is why I think the humorous sections seem more jarring.

2. Canto Bight. Ah Canto Bight. The part no one likes. It bothers me less with each rewatch because I can see how it sets up so much thematic material that I really do like. For example, DJ is a great foil to Finn in that he is pretty much what Finn could have become if he’d continued on his path from The Force Awakens without Rey. Disillusioned with both sides, motivated only by survival, no hope in something better. Also I really think it does give you complexity that TFA lacks with its pretty vague description of what exactly the Resistance is and what is happening in the galaxy.

3. You know actually, I think the reason people don’t like the Canto Bight sequence is because it’s basically the prequels! Hear me out: full of wacky aliens, showing the rich and powerful part of the galaxy not the gritty part, moral ambiguity for the good guys, dialogue is HIGH camp (”this lousy beautiful town” lol Rose plz no), CGI chase scenes. There is even a small boy yelling “woohoo!” at a race. It is the prequels.

4. I still love Luke’s plot and I don’t see how it could have gone any differently and still worked. There is literally no better reason for Luke to have randomly gone away to enjoy #islandlife alone when the Resistance needs him. Like... The Force Awakens sets up that he’s disappeared mysteriously and even Leia can’t find him with the Force so you’re expecting something bad.

5. Rey’s parents. I realized this time that she never actually clarifies in TFA whether she knows her family or not. So it does actually make sense that she remembers them from being like a 5 year old, felt horribly abandoned when they sold her, and hangs on to this naive belief they probably gave her about returning one day to save her. She’s not really searching for their identity so much as their whereabouts.

6. I know this is controversial, but Poe really does have a better plot line in this movie. I’m sorry, but he doesn’t really even have a storyline in TFA, he’s just like... a chill guy they meet. You don’t have to like the storyline, but you should admit that it is nice that he got one this time. I also noticed some really nice details/transitions where his dialogue mirrors Leia so it’s really clear that this is all a setup to him assuming command of the Resistance.

7. So... right... I don’t want to delay this any longer, but this movie does have some... awkwardness. The random scene with Maz. How coincidental it is that they find DJ. Holdo holding the idiot ball a little and being randomly suspicious around Poe. It isn’t quite elegant with its plot, but I do respect that it is due to the fact that the movie is trying to convey a much more complicated series of events. And TFA isn’t without some of these contrived moments, it just covers them a little better (I’m looking at you Rathtars and jumping to light speed whenever Han damn well pleases and Phasma in the trash compactor).

8. Kylo Ren is like way crazier in this one, but much less frightening. In fact, I noticed that while I previously mentioned this movie is way darker and more upsetting, the villains are actually much less scary. Snoke is like... super not scary. Hux is a loony toon now. Kylo Ren is somewhere between sympathetic character and petulant walking tantrum. I think that serves to put the focus of the story less on defeating some evil guy, and more on the evils of systems and organizations. The threat isn’t a guy with a mask or a gross face in this movie, it’s the endless consumption of war that ultimately makes human life meaningless. I like the message, but I also like scary guys in capes so... conflicted.

9. I’ve watched this movie three damn times now and I still can’t tell if I like Rose because she’s a good character or if Kelly Marie Tran is just That Charming.

10. I still really like this movie and whenever something doubtful happens, the movie immediately follows it up with something so mind bogglingly awesome you can’t even think about it anymore. The highs are high even if the lows are more obvious.

11. They should have fucking kept that Phasma deleted ending.

#star wars #The Force Awakens #the last jedi

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hxh-secretsanta-2017 · 6 years

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Merry xmas @milkboxe. Hope the holidays treated you well :) - @shalnarkonice ***

Whale island…was a summer paradise.

It was the perfect location one could escape to after a long, gruesome winter, or a particularly draining adventure. It was a town that held tradesfolk of all types. From Fishers to butchers, to shopkeepers and bar owners, and of course, a handful of cooks that filled day markets with goods.

It was an island where one generation would pass down all they knew to the next, and then the next after that. Family recipes became dirty little secrets. Each last name had a story and a past.

It was a humble and simple town, despite the beasts and the hunters, and the town lore about a family of Freecs.

There was something nice about being able to venture out onto the streets of whale island at any hour and find familiar faces chatting over coffee and sweets. Or to see the young adults of the town amble out of pubs in a dizzy haze, laughing and grinning and knowing that the only work they had the next day was for the family business.

It was lax. Much easier than city’s like yorknew and Blelike that were busy with the amount of people that shoved themselves into small units of the city, woke early, and stayed out late.

There was nothing like that here.

Nothing ever seemed rushed.

Even now, come the end of the year when it was a time of celebration and relaxation, the residents of Whale island seemed ignorant of the level of effort larger cities went through in order to ensure a lively and expensive holiday.

Killua was used to big spectacles. He had grown up in a home that (amongst the family job) offered him many perks such as gifts at every season as well a variety of inherited traditions from his grandfather’s travels around the world.

Killua was sure that the holiday season wouldn’t be the same here, on an island so remote, but that wasn’t going to stop him from celebrating it with Gon. That, and he had really wanted Alluka to experience the joy of the holiday season without having to be influenced by money, or advertisements, or gimmicks.

Was it that hard to ask for an authentic experience? Big cities seemed to ask too much from people.

Plus, Gon and Mito had accepted the two Zoldycks into their home with open arms. A week long getaway seemed to be what everyone needed.

Killua had come to learn quite quickly that Gon had become somewhat of a celebrity on whale island, not that Gon wasn’t known and adored by the inhabitants of this island already. Ironically, no one had ever heard the Zoldyck name. It was surprisingly refreshing.

Alluka had been overjoyed when she learned that they would be spending a week under the sun and near an ocean. Ever since starting their travels after visiting the world tree, Alluka and Killua had never been able to truly enjoy the seaside, too busy visiting the largest cities and most known landmarks that small pleasures often went forgotten.

Alluka, ever the eager one, had accepted camping as the norm, and for the first night the three pitched their tent near the shore and enjoyed a meal by the fire. The fish, to killuas horror, had been caught by gon’s own efforts, and grilled over an open flame on their campsite.

For a little bit, the nostalgia of travel stung and Killua knew that somewhere underneath the smiles and the effortless stories, Gon must resent killua for leaving (if even just by a little bit).

The next morning they had picked up a meal from the local market, sailed with the fishermen, and bought bags of snacks and drinks to share as they told great stories and recalled the past with vigor.

It had been around the third or fourth day where Killua had decided that as much as he enjoyed the simple bliss that Gon’s home had offered, a desire to do something wild overcame him.

With a grin on his face, Killua offered gon a proposition. A game of sorts.

Perhaps it would remind killua of the winter holidays he had spent at home as a kid.

“Killua are you sure?” Gon asks, slightly doubtful.

“Yea! Why, what’s the worst that could happen? You lose?” Killua barks back.

It didn’t take long of him to eat his words.

A fistful of sand in the face wasn’t nearly as fun as a snowball to one, Killua realized. Spitting and sputtering, Killua couldn’t even bring himself to be mad at Gon, who was apologizing nervously now as he rubbed the back of his head, realizing Killua’s idea to have a sand fight instead if snow may have been a terrible idea.

Even Alluka didn’t seem impressed with her brothers lack of common sense, and left him to flood his eyes with water from Gon’s water bottle in shame.

Whale island wasn’t the deal location to celebrate the holidays like how people did it in the movies. There was no snow. No green pine trees. No fireplaces in any of the homes to drink hot cocoa around or roast marshmallows around.

Not only did Killua have to deal with the burn of disappointment, but also the burn of gritty white sand to the eyes.

“I mean I did ask you.” Gon hides a smile, watching Killua struggle to keep his composure and not throw a fist.

“Yea well! I didn’t think you would hit me in the face. Cheap shot!”

Alluka snorts in amusement, “I don’t know what you wanted him to do. Ah! Are you going to eat that?” she asks, having already dug into killua’s bag of chocolate, helping herself.

“Yes I was!” Killua spins around, hair soaked. He grimaces, feeling the front of his shirt cling to his chest as water runs down his shirt. At least he could see now. “and I was trying to…ya know…celebrate the holidays. But we don’t have snow ok. I have to work with what we got!”

Alluka tosses a small coin sized chocolate into her mouth and takes a seat on the sand. Her usual skirt and shirt have been replaced by shorts and a tank top, as well as a simple black baseball cap. “Snow? I’m not sure what that is.”

Killua crosses his arms and takes a seat beside her, eyeing his bag of sweets but not daring to tear it out of her hands. He could never do something like that. Even if the chocolate did melt in his mouth in that oh so sweet way…

“Snow is kind of like sand,” Gon grabs a handful, “but softer. Fluffy. It doesn’t burn of you get hit in the face.”

Killua burns red in embarrassment. “You know if there was really snow here I would have-“

Gon falls backwards onto the sand, a cloud of dust picking up before settling. “One of the fun things you can do is make shapes!” he motions as his arms and legs move against the sand, making sand hunters (as Gon called them).

Killua could only watch in slight amusement as Gon sat up, covered in sand from head to toe. His usual dark hair was tinged with white.

“It’s not the same.” Killua cracks a smile, “but pretty close.”

“Why the big ol fascination with snow?” Gon questions knowingly, “not that I don’t love celebrating the holidays with family and friends, but there’s lots you can do even in a warm place like this.”

Killua, with the sun hot on his back, had a hard time believing that. “But there aren’t places to get sweet candies from, or places to get big trees to bring inside. There aren’t even decent Wi-Fi connections here to play games around a table of homemade snacks and eggnog.”

Alluka perks up at the mention of games.

Gon chuckles, sitting up and looking at Killua with amusement. “Sure, that might be true, but we have other things here too. Like baking our own sweet bread, or leaving fruit by the doors before we sleep so gifts can find their way to our shoes. We have big parties where we head to the lake and watch the fireflies and tiny dragonbirds dance across the sky like lights. And ya know, sometimes eating a good meal is a good time too.”

“I want to bake bread,” Alluka hums, “and Nanika wants to see the fireflies and lights.”

“We can!” Gon’s eyes gleam. “We can even do that thing they do on tv with socks nailed to the wall!”

Killua burst out laughing, “Do you mean hanging stockings over the mantel?”

“Yea those!” Gon nods but stops as he tries to think of where exactly he could get a pair of socks that big. It takes a moment, but he snaps his fingers and grabs one of his long green boots, “here, we can use these. I’m sure they’re big enough, Killua!”

“No way! They day I’d eat candy that’s been anywhere close to your feet!”

“Don’t be rude!” Gon hides his own laugh, “or I’m gonna beat you in a sand fight for the second time today!”

“Like hel-” Killua clears his voice, “like heck you will!”

“I won’t go easy!”

“Fine! Game on!”

Alluka, enjoying the warmth that came with an ocean view sighs in content, ignores the chaos of her brother and his best friend having it out through yells and bouts of laughter. They were enjoying their argument, perhaps a nostalgic reminder of another time.

It was nice to see them having fun. It made her think of how pretty the holiday season is, even without snow. At least she had good company, and really, that’s all she needed.

Whale island…was a summer paradise, after all.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #killua zoldyck #gon freccs #alluka zoldyck #fanfic #submission

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greatlove-keepsyouguessing · 7 years

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Day 3: School

As I said at the beginning of my family post, I had a painfully average upbringing and my educational experience was no exception to this. I went through Kindergarten to Grade 3 in one elementary school and then my parents made the wise decision to move us to the other side of town which was just generally a better neighborhood. In my first school, I had lots of friends and I was sort of the “rich-kid” in an area of otherwise less fortunate families, but in retrospect my family was maybe just the least-poor. Everyone wanted to come to my birthday parties, but I don’t think it was so much because I had the hippest Northern Getaway outfits and killer butterfly clips. It probably had more to do with the fact that my mom liked to throw these pretty elaborate birthday parties. My birthday is in December so she had to get creative, and oh boy, did she ever rise to that challenge. One year I had pony rides around our back yard. Yes, I got a pony for my birthday (but not really because he was just rented). Another year I got a pool party at the local community center where the cake melted in the party room and a kid almost drowned. That year was maybe not so great for my awesome party throwing rep. I had a Mad Science party, and if you aren’t familiar with that a person basically comes to your house and teaches you how to make goop and cotton candy and I don’t really know what that has to do with science but it set off the smoke detectors so it was very exciting. I also got a Harry Potter movie theatre party where my parents tried to be shining examples of law-abiding citizens by sneaking us into a double feature but chickened out. By the time I was a pre-teen the elaborate birthday party fund ran dry and I was allowed one friend over for a sleepover with cake and all the snacks we could dream of, but of course I was “too-cool” for those kiddie parties now anyways.

Once I switched schools things got a little more difficult for me. The curriculum was further ahead; I remember I was given a fractions quiz on the first day of school when I hadn’t even seen fractions before that. I also thought it would be a great idea to overhaul my “look” when I started at my new school so for some reason I faked an eye exam so I could get glasses and my mother let me cut my hair short and put two purple streaks in it. My new classmates were ACTUAL rich kids too (no joke, the daughter of the man who co-founded RIM/Blackberry was in my class) and I was now the poorest kid in the class. They turned their noses up at my Northern Getaway outfits and even when I had finally begged my mom to get me the cool expensive Gap sweater that everyone had these kids had already moved on to Campus Crew, and then after that it was all about American Eagle, Hollister and Abercrombie and Fitch. From that point forward, I always felt one step behind everyone. I was the new nerdy girl who wasn’t good at math, had an embarrassingly obvious crush on the most popular boy in the class, and who wore Britney Spears concert t-shirts to school (she was my first concert and it was right in between her Oops I Did It Again and Slave 4 U phases, and my mother was completely appalled that she had bought me those tickets for Christmas and exposed her daughter to such sluttery.) I was constantly made fun of and it was such an unfamiliar feeling to me to not have many friends. Of course, I made some at some point but I still felt out of place, like I didn’t belong and that feeling didn’t go away until I entered middle school.

I was reunited with the friends who I had been separated from when I changed elementary schools, and I now felt like I should have twice the amount the friends. It was a whole new world but with all the fresh teenage hormones rolling in and the fight to find your place in the cliques, kids weren’t as kind and welcoming as I thought they’d be. I still struggled with identity and bullying and mean girls and having strict parents when other kids seemed to be able to do whatever they wanted. Grade eight was actually straight out of mean girls. There were three girls who had been friends since they were little and they seemed SO cool to me. They were popular with the boys (for reasons I would learn much later on, but that my pure naïve little mind couldn’t wrap itself around) and it seemed like they were important and they knew secrets and people wanted to be their friends. I HAD to know what that was like and somehow for some reason unbeknownst to me they let me in. It quickly went down-hill and turned into a nightmare of a year that opened my eyes to just how innocent I was, and no matter how much I wanted to seem cool I just wasn’t ready to do the things they deemed cool. Thankfully I had the support of two loving parents and actually a couple incredible teachers who told me that they knew I was better than that situation and that I could potentially ruin my future if I continued down that path. I won’t get into the gritty details but over the course of the year my parents dealt with the family drama of one of the girls which involved the police and child protective services. Suffice it to say, my parents were very happy that those girls wouldn’t end up going to the same high school as I was due to our difference in districts. We went to camp for a week at the end of grade 8 to celebrate the end of middle school and the beginning of high school, and because of all the drama that had happened that year I was left without a group of friends to book a cabin with, so I was placed in what we jokingly (but not that jokingly) called the “reject-cabin”. Let me tell you, finding myself in that cabin was one of the best things that could have ever happened to me. That week I reconnected with Amy who I had been friends with at my new elementary school for a hot minute. We became inseparable, and that was also where I connected with Adrienne for the first time (you’ll remember her from my last post about my friends). Making these friends at seemingly the final seconds of middle school made starting high school so much easier than I thought it would be, and I’m grateful that everything that happened that year put me in that perfect situation to meet friends who I would have for the rest of my life.

I remember high school quite fondly actually, which I feel I have to thank my extensive list of extra-curricular activities for. I went in now calling Amy and Adrienne two of my best friends, and they introduced me to their extended friends and just like that, I had a whole group of awesome people to go through the trials and tribulations of grade 9 with. Of course, I went through different phases where I would meet new people and call new girls my best friend every year and immerse myself in different groups of people to try to find my perfect place, but Amy and Adrienne were always a constant. Katrina came into the picture about half way through high school – once I stopped hating her for seemingly having everything I wanted but couldn’t achieve. My studies weren’t something I stressed about anymore. In middle school we all sort of got back on a level playing field and I found my sea legs again and went back to being my perfection seeking straight-A self, so I focused more on being as involved as I could and striving for popularity. I was involved in 4 different choirs at one point and I was also cast in a musical, 2 plays, was a member of the student council, radio crew and even tried to run for co-president which was mildly mortifying since I was the youngest and least experience candidate and was basically laughed off the stage. I participated in every charity event the school hosted, went to every dance, and at my school that was cool thing to do. You know in 22 Jump Street when Channing Tatum in all confused because the cool kids are super involved in school and study hard to get into a good college… that’s what my high school felt like. We had cliques like every other school but there wasn’t a lot of drama. Cliques really kept to themselves and stuck to what they were good at, and didn’t involve themselves in other clique’s drama. Looking back on it now, I do remember being bullied pretty severely when anonymous cyber bullying first became a thing and that was really difficult; something that actually still affects me to this day, but is part of what makes me who I am. I fought with my friends and even thought I lost them at one point when I became enthralled in my first love and all of the new experiences that come with that. You’re figuring out who you are, who you want to be and the path you should take in life and it’s not as fun of a time when you’re in it, but I’m happy that I can look back on it now and remember all of the amazing memories and friends I made through it, and realize that the good really did outweigh the bad in the end. I know that I’m extremely lucky to have had the high school experience that I did because even my sister who went to the same high school right after I did wasn’t as fortunate.

Well that’s not all for school because I did spend four years in university and a year in college but that will be for my next post where I will talk about the special friends I made there and my first crack at sort-of adulting.

Until next time!

#text post #about me #blog post #my story #taylor swift #taylor nation #my swift life #autobiography #10 parter

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