#the worst parts are brief in the grand scheme though but its something that helps to be prepared for

[hccupit]

Could you also upload that trans one piece timeline? It’s pretty neat!

sure !

if you ever wanted to get into one piece as a trans person, especially if it's for specific characters you've seen, heres a timeline of trans representation and how it's handled lol (as vague and spoiler free as possible)

#one piece #transgender #transphobia cw #it really goes from well intentioned but slighly misguided #to very bad and problematic #to really good and positive #the worst parts are brief in the grand scheme though but its something that helps to be prepared for #glad oda learned from it at least

[vickyvicarious]

what do you make of Eliot's pre-show reputation for working alone? it makes sense for Parker and Hardison, who've always worked that way, but Eliot has a history of working as part of a team in various contexts

Yeah, it's definitely interesting! Really, Sophie never gets that label of 'always working alone' (and in fact later we see her bringing in Tara, which supports that she has friendly contacts still). It's just Parker, Hardison, and Eliot. And like you said, it makes complete sense for Parker, and even Hardison's hacking is just typically more suited to be done alone even if he is a social guy on a personal level. Eliot is different, given his history.

One thing I noticed a while ago, which is also interesting, is that Eliot's job by its very nature depends on other people. Sophie, Parker, and Hardison all steal what they want - as retrieval specialist, Eliot had to be hired. That's not to say he never just took something he wanted, necessarily, but his role majorly depended on people a) knowing of him in the first place, b) trusting his reputation enough to hire him, and c) being able to get in touch with him to hire him. I highly doubt he was handing out business cards left and right, so he had to have a network of contacts to at the very least pass his name along as an 'I know just the guy for the job' kind of thing. In fact, we see him bring in a friend on a con early in S1, and he is in contact with/does jobs for old military contacts throughout the show. (Once again, in the first episode Parker and Hardison were successfully recruited for someone else’s job, so it's not like that never happened for the others. But the general trend was that they picked their own heists; Eliot was hired on by other people.)

So we have a guy here who has a history of working on teams, a reputation as a loner, and yet still actively works for people who he has to keep on good enough terms to keep hiring him. How did that happen? In my opinion, it all comes back to Damien Moreau.

Eliot's timeline goes through some distinct phases:

Rural teen with a relatively poor family, I think they mention he played football; very all-American.

Joined the army with "a flag on his shoulder and God in his heart" or however that quote went.

Highly trained military operative involved in very classified operations.

Working for Damien Moreau.

Working solo as a retrieval specialist.

Leverage.

It's easy to track him through 1-3. He was recruited into the army with promises of heroism and glory, excelled at what he did, was eventually disillusioned. Getting from there to Moreau is a bit more of a jump, and likely didn't happen immediately. Given how protective Eliot gets over people he's working with, and how vigorously he hates betrayals of trust from his team, I think it's not unreasonable to assume that part of the reason he left the army had to do with whatever unit he was in getting very hurt. Likely in a way that made him feel he failed to protect them; maybe he was the only one who made it out of one specific situation. Maybe just a bunch of people he worked with got whittled down, or maybe it wasn't anything so deadly but he saw how little their lives mattered in the grand scheme of those in charge, saw how amoral the missions he was given were, and it was more of a gradual slide into illegality. There's also the detail that as he got into more and more classified work, he might be less and less likely to have a large group of people he could talk to/be a regular team with. Either way, I think Moreau didn't completely hire him straight out of the army, but there probably wasn't a tremendously long time between him leaving that group and joining up with Moreau.

*I originally thought Eliot didn't meet Toby until after he left Moreau, but a helpful anon corrected me on that! 'In the French Connection Job he says to Nate "I was out of the service and working for my 2nd PMC", doing wetwork.' He 'should've' killed Toby but instead stayed with him for months, 'learning how to cook and how to feel'. It certainly seems like he had gone some degree of numb after his experiences in the army and even since leaving it. His second private military contract/company... still implies he was working for organizations of some sort, though I get the impression he wasn't sticking around for terribly long times. Still, even if he then works solo retrieval type gigs for a while, I don't think he was nearly as insistent on working alone/had such a clear reputation about it, not yet.

Eliot no longer believed that he was doing good. He'd lost his naive patriotism and seems to have lost his religion for the most part as well. He didn't trust the system, but for the most part he still seemed to have faith in individuals. He still kept in touch with some old colleagues, he'd learned from Toby; he still wanted to be a part of something, even if that something couldn't be the US Army. He's a self-motivated criminal now but he still isn't averse to working with others.

Then comes Damien Moreau. Whether you read their relationship as romantic or not, it was undeniably important and personal. They knew one another well. Damien even still liked Eliot years after he'd left. There's good evidence for them having an emotionally abusive relationship where Moreau took advantage of Eliot's tendency to do things for those he cares about (I reblogged a great meta on this a little while ago). But essentially what we see here is that in all his time working for Moreau, no one else made such a strong impression on Eliot. Moreau definitely seems the type to play favorites and emotionally distance Eliot from other goons - Eliot isn't just another goon after all, he's the best. He's worthy of Damien's time and attention and specific assignments that only Eliot can be trusted to get done right. Whatever process of estrangement Eliot's superior skills may have begun, Moreau quickened until there was only one person who was the most important to him. Eliot didn't just work for him as a part of some vast criminal network by the end - no, he worked directly for and with Moreau himself. He was part of a team of two for all intents and purposes, regardless of how often he may have cooperated with others on specific jobs (though I suspect that got less frequent over time as well).

And when Eliot realized how deep he'd gotten, how terrible he'd become? He left, and left Damien Moreau specifically behind. Maybe he took a break for a while, went underground... it certainly doesn't seem like he had a conversation with Moreau and resigned so much as he just ran. And when he returned it was as a solo act. What this tells me is that not only did his time with Moreau break Eliot's trust in himself, it broke his ability to trust others. Not everyone necessarily, but in a working capacity. It probably was not the first time he'd experienced betrayal (in some form or another, his time in the army definitely qualified) but it was the most personal. Eliot trusted and liked Moreau - and he did the worst things in his entire life for him.

He couldn't repeat that. He couldn't leave himself open to getting sucked in like that again. And what's more, at this point he really didn't need to. His skills were such that he could get the job done himself (and had perhaps even honed those more solo skills while working for Moreau), and doing so meant that he never had to leave himself vulnerable to someone else like that again. He didn't have to be responsible for someone else getting hurt, and he didn't have to accept that he'd put someone else in charge of who he hurt. Eliot starts being more careful not to permanently injure or kill people, starts getting more selective with his jobs, and makes it a requirement that he works them alone. He still has to accept jobs from others, yeah, but he has ultimate control over what jobs he does accept, and if he operates purely on a freelance basis without getting too involved with any one client, then he can avoid the emotional entanglement that lead to such horrific loss of judgement in the past. It's hard, because he is naturally drawn to other people... but Eliot thinks that letting no one in is by far the safer option for everyone involved. He still builds relationships with others in order to get his name out, and may do repeat work for certain people, but no one is going to own him anymore. He is good enough that he can afford to set the terms like that; when he keeps getting the job done the word will spread that even alone he is worth the money. Eliot relies only on himself and any relationships he has are necessarily shallow. Professional, brief. This extends even to friendships (that seem to involve infrequent contact for the most part) and romantic relationships (he has plenty of sex but doesn't get emotionally close to anyone, does not fall in love). He is alone - in fact he is emphatically and outspokenly alone, because he doesn't want anyone to get their hooks in him like that ever again.

(*Doing jobs like this also limits the likelihood, especially in the beginning, that he's going to end up working for Moreau again in any real capacity. As time passes and Moreau doesn't attempt to bring him back too hard, that may become less of an issue in his mind, but it could certainly be a perk at least as the start.)

Then of course we eventually come to Leverage. It's been a while since Moreau. Eliot has built a solid reputation for himself - and he is being offered a LOT of money for a job that promises to be fairly quick. At this point, he probably feels like maybe he can trust himself as part of a team again without getting too sucked in - he will just keep it to one job and go his own way afterwards. It'll be fine.

...And then he immediately gets sucked in, bonds right away and wants so badly to stay. But even then, it's because of Nate. Eliot knows Nate, trusts him to be the 'honest man', is certain enough of Nate's moral compass that it's okay to get drawn in if Nate is the one making the plans. If it weren't for him, Eliot would have walked right away. Eliot was never going to allow himself to be ruled by others again... but Nate isn't like any of those people, he is a good man. Eliot can trust him not to lead him into anything too morally wrong, and in fact the work with Leverage is a way to bring some good back into the world. Not redeem himself, that won't ever happen, but under Nate's leadership Eliot can do something good for once. He doesn't want to stop.

By the time he moves past trusting Nate's judgement so much, he already trusts and loves the whole team. Parker and Hardison especially, so now he has to stay to keep them safe... even from Nate's plans sometimes, when he gets drunk and reckless. Eliot is secure in his role as part of a team again - and he probably was very lonely without one for all that time. It's not really in his nature to work alone long-term. And a key difference this time is that everyone else gets just as invested as he, and there's a good balance of power and respect unlike all of the more hierarchical teams he was in before (army, Moreau, they would have clear command structures - hell, even high-school football has a captain and a coach). Nate is nominally in charge but they talk back to him and lead where they have the most expertise. They dedicate themselves to him as much as he to them, they change together. And they change for the better, together.

#leverage #eliot spencer #leverage meta #my meta #anonymous #replies

[haleviyah]

A Hispanic/ Latino Perspective: Border Clarification

This is one of the rare times I’m going to get somewhat political here, but these comments spread by the media are hitting to way close to home for me, so here I go.

Before you pounce on me, let me explain this: I am a moderate. I favor no sides, I don’t treat people by their titles but rather I prefer to judge by character even though I am not the best at it, admittedly. I favour and respect those who keep their word and own their mistakes. In short, if you do what you promise to do, you have my approval whereas if not, you will bear the brunt of my blunt rebukes and sarcastic remarks.

I am also from South Texas, specifically the Rio Grande Valley, and am a descendent of two humble Mexican families who since the Mexican Border War have made Texas their great escape and home.

Bit of a geographical reference, if you don’t know here where the Rio Grande Valley is. Look at the state of Texas, there is a bulge of state going in each direction that makes it look like a fat, lower-case ”t” : El Paso is the most West of the state, the Panhandle (Amarillo) the Northmost, Texarkana the most Eastward followed by Houston, and WAAAAAAY at the bottom is Brownsville and the Southernmost tip of Texas.

And for those of you too lazy to Google or "DuckDuckGo" the map yourself I've attached it:

The four counties: Hidalgo, Cameron, Starr and Willacy county make up the Rio Grande Valley. This is the region I grew up, the place where I experienced the best of a community and the worst of politics and failed promises.

For a bit of background: I have a parent working on the Border and they have been for many years (since I was a kid). Pretty much worked from a security officer to trooper within the span of a decade which is quite impressive and rare considering they never took bribes or anything to get where they were currently. They have told me off and on what their job is like. It’s crazy and boring some days, but also they have admitted somethings that may be fascinating. One of which is, yes, they do own horses and the reason why is so the Troopers can maneuver around tough terrain vehicles cannot go through (such as high water or narrow foot paths in brush). HOWEVER, they DO NOT OWN WHIPS. They don’t even own lassos, according to my Border Agent parent.

The only weapons agents on horse back have is a Glock, ammo, a taser, cuffs, and sometimes shot guns (but they prefer to carry light for the horses and themselves to be more flexible). They mainly carry items that would slow a person down or prevent them from hurting other people, officer or civilian; not for killing. So a whip is absolutely redundant or even absurd to have.

Those long ropes the Troopers are holding are called reins, and they are designed for steering a horse (horses cannot move opposite of the direction of their head; where their head is pointed they move in that direction). They are not made for whipping people, but rather made to get the horse’s attention. That’s it.

I took the liberty of highlighting the reins in red for you all as well as their arms and legs in blue and yellow in contrast to the reins and saddle.

It's clear from a Texan's or horse-riders perspective this Trooper almost fell off catching the other fellow and was holding onto the left rein for dear life hence why the horse looked distressed and its cheek was pulled back.

I'm not joking, you fucking try it if you're so damn horse-smart.

Now, let's look at a more relaxed position.

In short, if you haven't ridden a horse, I advise to keep your comments to yourself on this part. I have and it's way harder than it looks (horses can get cocky).

Second thing, the migrants.

Personally, I don’t know why they were so squirrelly that day. Perhaps they were spooked because they’ve never expected horse back riders to show up, maybe they had some bad experiences back home.

I don’t know!

But it’s clear there appears to be a lack of communication. Perhaps it’s the language barrier given that these guys came from Haiti, African countries and Brazil. English they probably know, but they probably don’t speak a lick of Spanish (Which both languages are mandatory for the Border Patrol).

(Again, I don't know...)

So the reasons why they started running circles around the Troopers’ horses is not for me to speculate, it’s not for YOU to defend blindly, nor is it up for the media to interpret and evangelize.

That should be left to the people to explain. No one else.

(Update: September 29th. I received a tip from a source that the Haitian immigrants (mainly) are not running from anything, they aren’t seeking asylum nor were in poverty as the media claims. They have admitted upon interview they were what we consider middle-low class and had no issues finding jobs before they decided to migrate northward. They’re just coming because they were told to come by “you-know-who”… that’s all. I know, I’m taken aback and scratching my head, too… but anyway. I digress, but do take note.)

Now, another bit of feedback I want to share: When it comes to dealing with Troopers (again, must I remind you this is a Border Patrol agent’s kid speaking), big rule:

DO NOT RUN nor MAKE THREATENING MOVEMENTS. Be calm.

It’s a simple rule, if you’re cool with the Troopers they’ll be cool with you. That’s it. Please respectfully keep in mind, these guys are trained to be safe rather than sorry. So patience and understanding with them is a must. Trust me, I’ve met my parent’s co-workers, they may look stoic and scary or condescending, but they can not let personal emotions interfere their work otherwise they risk safety.

They’re not “paranoid” or “harsh” they just have a job they cannot afford to fuck up otherwise the whole region is FUCKED. They’re the front line of defense, and do keep that in mind.

(Another footnote: I have seen Border Patrol offices, and without giving away how they function it’s not like CIA or Langley level of clean or fancy, so don’t think their offices are high tech and have marble floors with comfy lounges that cost a lot of money. Upon first glance you won’t expect the building to be an office. Border Patrol work with what they have available which isn’t a lot thanks to the ’00, ’04, ’08, ’12 and current administrations. That’s all I can give out.)

I’m going to come clean here and say the citizens in the Rio Grande Valley and the rest of Texas DO NOT FEEL SAFE with a border this wide open and no regulation is applied. Especially the Hispanic/Latino communities. So the pressure is on - and I mean REALLY on! Despite these guys working the Border are overwhelmed, they keep those emotions and opinions on lockdown when on the field. Like I said: If they fuck up, the region is fucked.

Bit of a history lesson: the Border issues on the Rio Grande are not new. Matter of factly, this problem has been happening for decades (The popular peak was during the 80s when cocaine was being distributed), but it was more than just cocaine and pot: Kids were going missing, people getting killed, women were used as mules and sold for sex, etc.

If you watched “Narcos” or “Sicario” you have a brief, dramatized taste of how the cartels function and what life is like for us Latinos. However, coming from someone who grew up there, the parts of watching your back, the abductions and even the gruesome murders are legit. To this day I remember seeing local news coverage (not CNN or MSNBC, our own stations down in the McAllen/Brownsville area) of beheadings, child murders and bodies being found in pieces… It’s something I hope my children won’t have to grow up hearing almost weekly like I did. Now it’s daily… and no one cares. And that hurts.

In the grand scheme of things, at least know this: South Texas has been part of the Cartel battle grounds and it’s obvious we’ve seen shit. Constantly being ignored is the payment we get for being front lines in the Drug War. So don’t blame us for being jumpy, or skeptical, nor even try convince us that the current surplus of immigrants is a good thing.

You can’t argue with our own experiences and history. The way things work down here is simple: You fight along side us, we fight along side you.

It’s called building trust, practicing faith. But we’ve been forgotten and lied to too many times by celebrities and politicians and social movements alike. And those who actually were going to help us are either shut down or unfortunately killed.

We just can’t trust anyone anymore. We are resorting to fending for ourselves basically, speaking up for ourselves… and so far it’s making progress in the mean time.

This level of “doing things on your own” bleeds into why our Troopers are trained they way they are trained - to expect the worst case scenario. To prepare themselves for the corpses, when a criminal pounces, the drugs being hid, for when they find a child with an adult they don’t know, or even a woman who was violated. They just genuinely don’t want to take chances and you just read why. Even my in-laws up in the Northern Midwest are disturbed.

So, considering the case of what happened a few days ago in Del Rio, Texas (as of writing this on September 25th 2021): If you run from a Trooper the first thing they are going to think is either two things:

You did something bad upon coming in to the country or

You don’t want your former government to find you because you did crimes in your home country or the country you were hiding in.

This is protocol, not biased opinions.

If, however, a Trooper commits any form of irresponsibility (such as abusing their power, unreasonable search and seizures etc.) it’s “kiss your badge good-bye” and DEMOTED or FIRED. The stakes of keeping your job in the Border Patrol are HIGH, so they are trained not to act out of line. Even a minor slip up in paper work from being fatigued gets you in SEVERE trouble with the Higher Ups and the County (Yes, that does happen and has happened). But you have to KNOW Border Patrol standards before you accuse them of anything.

With that being said, what’s floating around is not a constructive argument; it’s a distraction. How the public is demanding the trooper in the photo to be fired, tells us Latinos loud and clear that - once again - no one cares about our livelihood; no one is willing to brave enough to face the real hell going on. We are ignored or low-key demonized for simply defending ourselves.

(Now, you guys are seeing why I relate to my Jewish husband and the Israeli’ citizens - Arab and Jew - more; we’re pretty much in the same boat in the case of being ignored. But I digress.)

Before I come to a conclusion, here are other demographic facts to keep in mind that way it’ll help draw conclusions:

86.6% of the Border Patrol is HISPANIC/LATINO in the State of Texas alone.

A majority of children stolen from their families or molested are HISPANIC/LATINO.

A majority of the women violated immigrants on the border are mainly HISPANIC/LATINO.

Latin America collectively (Mexico down to Colombia and Venezuela) has the highest rates of femicide in the world.

So for you or anyone to get angry at Border Patrol agents in an unjust manner, not only are you getting mad at Hispanics and Latinos in UNIFORM for fighting to keep their communities safe, but you are actively contributing to the hell our families go through every day.

When you protest in demand for our cops or even troopers to be defunded, and fired for petty things, YOU are actively contributing to the problem of human trafficking, rape, kidnappings and murder that happens on the border. You are contributing to the Hispanic and Latino communities being dismantled and disintegrated by people who potentially want to kill us or hate us for money’s sake.

Take all of that into consideration before you get angry at anyone here.

In short:

I’ll only consider the accusations if you yourselves have been there and know the burdens we bear.

I’ll only consider your judgement if you genuinely are in law enforcement and know how to ride a horse and try to stop someone from running while riding the beast.

I’ll only consider your feedback if you don’t rely heavily on news like CNN, Telemundo and Tumblr for your information.

Until you grab a gun and fight the cartel yourself, and figure out a way to end this war on human trafficking, don’t come to us Latinos and express that you care and appreciate us.

Because frankly if you GENUINELY did, you’d bring to light what I just said and be slamming the desks at D.C. and DEMANDING the Border to be CLOSED by now.

Regardless of your political and personal beliefs, this is what is REALLY going on, and we’re going to keep fighting. Like the Israeli’s we don’t give a fuck if you hate us. We’re not radicals, we’re not blood-thirsty heathens, we’re not white supremacists (80+% of our population is of Latino Mexican descent) we’re just fed up with running away and being taken advantage of or taken for granted by people who value money over the lives of our neighbors.

If this were California, fine! Rail all you want, cuss us out as much as you want; hold us to those to California standards you keep yourself. But we’re not California.

We’re not D.C., nor Chicago, nor L.A., or New York, Florida, Canada, Mexico or whatever. We are SOUTH TEXAS so treat us as SOUTH TEXAS.

Honor us for who we are and hold us to the standards of what is SOUTH TEXAS, what is The United States Constitution, and the Texas Constitution; nothing more and nothing less. Don’t tear us down for what we’re not nor hold us accountable to an opinion or law we never agreed to nor knew existed.

That’s all I ask: If you’re not willing to honour our community and help us while holding us to our standards on a cultural, State or Federal level, back the fuck off. Generations we’ve dealt with the pressure from both the cartel and corrupt government from both the U.S. and Mexico, and the last thing we need is pampered kids living in the high rises or going to university on loans from school or your parents' paychecks, telling us how to deal with our issues.

You are FAR from a place to tell us how to function and resolve our war.

I’m not trying nor want to start a fight or otherwise, but I’m simply, humbly asking: when did we ever genuinely ask you “social justice advocates” to be our hero?

When did we ever ask you to fight for us or talk about what you think is wrong with us? Because last I checked we don’t want to drag anyone into our battles.

Also, we only know one messiah, but we never asked you to be him nor for him to act like you.

Did you start throwing punches because you wanted to find something to excuse your anger and outbursts, or is your good intentions married with ignorance?

Either case… it’s extremely unhealthy of you, and please just stop before another person gets hurt. We don’t want that. This is no different from the Crusades our ancestors took part in, and it will only end in more carnage than already sown.

So, just please, stop and take a step back for a moment. We don’t need anymore vehement evangelical-like people who just think with their ideals and not take a moment to have a healthy discussion with the One who created us, or let alone divorce their lust for a fight for ten seconds.

To close this off, even though I haven’t been home in a while, I know the spirit and the struggles the Rio Grande Valley goes through. I have met people on the run from the cartel first hand, and I have met people who may have ties with the cartel. I have seen some creepy shit, I have grown frustrated over the Protestant Baptist church doing nothing, and I have even been feeling the pressure my parent goes through with these apathetic riots threatening their job as a Border Patrol agent.

But aside from the pain, I am tremendously blessed that people and my family are still very optimistic despite the craziness and how bleak things are.

The family-oriented culture of the Rio Grande Valley is what is keeping it together… not trends, not clout and neither these guys in D.C. or Hollywood who are playing G-d.

It's the family-oriented connection. Our faith, that's keeping us going.

And even though I may not be the best voice of that region to speak up, I am blessed to have been there and I do plan on coming back soon.

I am planning on giving a more fun journal featuring the culture of the Rio Grande Valley in the future to finish this month off, but for the sake of this “Hispanic Heritage Month” I wanted to share our REAL issues we deal with rather than the made up ones that media likes to mainstream for money and clout.

In a way, I hope this offers clarity and a level of empathy. Again, I’m not sharing this to start fights or get sympathy - we don’t want it. We just want to know if our fights are not ignored, we just want to know we are heard.

That’s all.

#hispanic #hispanic lives matter #hispanic heritage month #latino #latin community #mexico #usa #rio grande valley #rio grande valley native #latino mexican #mexican #border patrol #border crisis #hatian immigrants #border agents #horseback #horse riding #cartel #human trafficking awareness #human trafficking #drug wars #drug war #real issues #issues #ignored issues #ignored voices #south texas #del rio texas #rebuke #latino speaking

[elphenfan]

Bare My Heart to Your Sleeping Face (Good Omens) 1/?

Because this thought, this fic, wouldn’t leave my head.

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

Crowley was drunk. To be fair, so was Aziraphale and to be even more fair, he was probably more drunk than the demon was but despite what one might assume, it was the angel who was holding his liquor better. Not by a whole lot, that was true enough, but he would take what he could get.

It helped that they also handled it a little bit differently.

Oh, they were both prone to talking a lot more when sloshed and have pretty long, rambling conversations that ranged from the simplest of topics to the deepest philosophical musings. Usually they were quite the eclectic mix of the two, with most things in between, too.

Crowley was more prone to gesticulating when plastered than Aziraphale was but apart from that, he was also more…not handsy – surprisingly, neither of them had touched the other much over the ages they’d known each other, not even when the opportunity had presented itself – but more…flexible. Prone to give into his serpentine nature and not just in terms of occasionally hissing.

Not to put too fine a point on it, Crowley would, if he didn’t think to sober up before he got to that point, end up sprawling across the nearest surface he could find. In most cases that would be the sofa, as he seemed to prefer it whenever he came around to the bookshop. If they were drinking at a restaurant or similar, he would choose the table or another patron, though Aziraphale had wised up to that after a few disastrous incidents and could now gauge, more or less, when the other was just about getting to that point.

All of that would be fine, for a given value of fine when it came to his escapades at various establishments, if he didn’t often as not then fall asleep wherever he’d decided to flop down onto. That was a staple of being drunk, after all, but Aziraphale would have thought that only needed to apply to human beings, not supernatural ones. At least, he would if he hadn’t known Crowley so well at this point.

This again might not have been a problem on its own if not for the small but significant fact that very, very occasionally, to the point that the blond could count the occurrences on one hand, the nearest surface wasn’t a sofa, a chair, a table or even the floor.

No, sometimes the nearest surface a drunk demon could find to drape himself across for comfort and an eventual snooze was…well, quite frankly, it was Aziraphale himself.

Which, once more, like a series of dominos that might be ten feet tall but would only just about touch each other, wouldn’t have been an issue on its own. One might even argue that out of all the drunk idiots one could have sprawled across you, a handsome demon who weighed surprisingly little given his height was not among even the top twenty worst people. Especially given that when he did snore, it wasn’t deep and resonant, but a hiccupping, hissing version that was honestly incredibly adorable.

There was one problem, though, which started the series of dominos falling, and that was what brought the angel to his issue. Or more accurately, it showcased why he was the issue.

See, rather than merely tolerating it or even liking it in an ‘I put up with your antics because you’re my friend’ kind of way – the angel didn’t dare admit that he considered them friends out loud, just in case someone heard who shouldn’t – Aziraphale had found that he very much liked it.

After all, it gave him a chance to be close to Crowley in a way that he couldn’t while they were both awake. They were closer when they were drunk in general but that was first of all a very different kind of closeness and secondly, as Aziraphale was also drunk, he didn’t get to experience it as he would’ve wished for.

When the demon was asleep – not passed out, he got sleepy before he just shut down, which was, given his occult nature, quite the fascinating thing to see happen – however, it was not just a time for the angel to sober up, it was one for him to get a good, uninterrupted look at the other.

Of course, he could do that when he was merely sleeping on the sofa as well, or the floor for that matter, provided that he wasn’t face-down, obviously. But there was something else to it when the lanky body was draped across him, something which had helped, in as much as he felt he could use the term, solidify the feelings that had grown inside of him for…he wasn’t even sure how long, really.

He knew his heart had done something strange inside his chest for at least the last half a millennium. Probably longer, a lot longer, and he just hadn’t noticed the way his heart had always warmed, and his face had lit up at the sight of the demon.

One might question how he would know his face had lit up but after inhabiting the same corporation for a millennium or two, you became rather intimately and inherently aware of every twist and turn your corporation was capable of, including the facial ones. Not to the point where you could necessarily control it, of course, but you were certainly more aware of just what the different ticks and twists meant. Besides, it wasn’t as though it was the most subtle of expressions, was it?

It had also helped that they’d seen so much more of each other in the last roughly two thousand years in comparison to earlier millennia, to the point that one might even call it an escalation. One which Aziraphale was quite pleased with, he had to admit. Extraordinarily so, as a matter of fact.

The point of it, though, was that what he felt for the demon now could really only be described as ‘love’. It was ridiculous and silly, not to mention wrong and just about the biggest taboo he as an angel could break.

Not that he wasn’t breaking some quite significant rules just by associating with Crowley in the first place, without even going into the Arrangement. But that was still like comparing running a street scam to swindling an entire company out of every asset it could possibly have. Both were crimes but one was decidedly more severe and far-reaching in its consequences than the other.

It was an encompassing kind of love, too, that went beyond what he should be feeling for the entirety of the world…but it ought to exclude demons? Then again, Heaven didn’t honestly fulfil that brief very well itself either, did it?

But the love he held for Crowley was not purely one kind or the other. It was, to borrow from the Greek descriptions, as much storge and philia as it was Eros, with a good dose of pragma and really, not as much to do with agape as one would expect from an angel, ignoring the earlier thought.

The fact that Eros had snuck in there at all, not to mention how large a part of was possibly the one that had startled, if not outright shocked, him the most. After all, that was the part that was most antithetical to the whole concept of being ethereal, wasn’t it? Not that that was necessarily saying a whole lot, but the point was that Eros was what he had never expected to feel.

If he was going to feel it for anyone, though, it would not only make the most sense, if not the only sense, for it to be his demon, there was nobody he would rather feel it for. His opposite number, his hereditary enemy, and yet, there was so much more they had in common than split them.

However, he wasn’t going to admit that out loud. Mostly that was in fear that someone somewhere would hear or otherwise detect it and that it would then put either or both of them into jeopardy, which was much more dangerous than, say, a sharply worded note.

For that same reason he wasn’t going to admit to anyone but himself that he was in love with his friend. Or at least, he told himself that was the reason and the only reason.

In reality, however, he wasn’t just scared of what his superiors would say. Perhaps it was actually more truthful to say that they were the lesser of the two entities he was scared of finding out about his feelings.

What didn’t help was that he didn’t even know how Crowley would react. Oh, he would be rejected, he was certain about that. But in what way and to what extent that rejection would come, however, that was something he did not know at all and would rather not speculate on if he could help it. All that accomplished was to make him sad and even more scared than he’d been before.

So, no, he was not going to let on that he not only harboured feelings for his friend but that they weren’t entirely angel pure, either. No matter how much he wanted to or how it sometimes hurt to have to conceal them. Pretend, even, sometimes that he was very conflicted and uncertain of whether they were doing the right thing associating.

That last part was done as much to keep himself in check and remind himself of what he stood to lose if he should slip up.

Thankfully for him, he’d worked out relatively quickly that if he pushed away, just a little, carefully so, then Crowley would not be offended but would bounce right back. He would sometimes even get a little bit closer, both physically and metaphorically, than he’d been before, which delighted the angel each and every time, and so he had to watch that he didn’t overdo it.

He would take what he had, however little it might be in the grand scheme of things, over losing his demon, either through meddling from above or below or because Crowley couldn’t cope with Aziraphale’s feelings.

Which brought him to his current predicament.

All of the dominoes seemed to have lined themselves up tonight, as Crowley had decided to hit the bottles he’d brought from the restaurant they’d been at, quite hard and by the time he’d gotten through all of them, with admittedly some help from Aziraphale, he was beyond sozzled and consequently, more overly cooked noodle than occult being stuffed in a human body.

Aziraphale had, perhaps inadvisably given the situation, elected to sit himself on the sofa rather than his chair as he normally did. In hindsight, he would’ve wished that he’d moved the books stacked momentarily there to his desk but at the time, he didn’t feel he had the coordination.

Besides, where had been the problem in sitting at one end of the sofa while Crowley lounged across the rest?

Except he should’ve known better. It would become a problem, roughly around the time when the ginger apparently decided that it was a much better idea to sprawl horizontally than something approaching vertically.

It happened in the middle of a sentence, too; half of it was delivered gesturing enthusiastically, then a pause, and then Aziraphale found himself with a lap full of lanky body. He wasn’t sure whether it was a blessing or not that it was the torso laying across his thighs, since it did mean that Crowley’s face was rather close.

There was silence for a few long moments after that, the half-finished sentence left to drift away into nothing.

“Hullo, angel,” the demon finally grinned, the lopsided nature of his smile having nothing to with his position. The grin, as most other smiles, smirks, grins and similar from Crowley, did funny things to Aziraphale’s insides.

“Crowley, what are you –?”

But it was too late; Crowley was asleep. As his sunglasses so neatly obscured his eyes, the way Aziraphale was able to tell that he was had more to do with the tension in the lanky body releasing just a little but felt more due to where he lay. Well, that and the grin had become a somewhat slackly open mouth, though thankfully there was no snoring. That was a bit of a clue, too.

The angel stared at him, trying to get his bearings on what had happened, or more accurately why he hadn’t clocked that Crowley was as drunk as he was – pissed was probably the better word, though Aziraphale most certainly wasn’t going to say it out loud – and would be liable to fall asleep.

It didn’t help him that he wasn’t exactly sober himself. Sloshed was probably the more accurate word, but only slightly, he’d argue. That was probably also why he had made the, in hindsight, stupid decision to sit himself that closely to the other. It certainly hadn’t been in the hope that he would experience this.

Had it?

No, it hadn’t.

Yes, so he’d known that they’d been drinking, and they’d come back here to do some more drinking. But that did not equal that this would be the outcome and he hadn’t planned for it.

Nor had he hoped for it because he…he was never ready for it and as much as some part of him thrilled to the contact he had with the other, one which he didn’t ever otherwise get and certainly not to this extent – he simply didn’t dare when they were both sober – what took up much more of his mind was the fright that he would overstep somewhere.

That he would touch Crowley, perhaps stroke his cheek or touch his hair and, far more importantly, would have serious difficulty stopping himself continuing to touch him.

But the alcohol must’ve been a bit more potent in him than he would’ve expected it or have unlocked the last bit of something inside of him, because before he was quite aware of what he was doing, his fingers had in fact reached out to trail gently over a cheek. Oh, it was quite splendidly soft, despite the impression that it would be at least a little bit rough.

Crowley mumbled something but didn’t wake. However, his head turned into the unintended caress.

That simple gesture made Aziraphale retract his hand at once. Or rather, it should have done and in more sober circumstances, it probably would have done. Possibly.

Now, however, it seemed to have a mind of his own as it trailed further up and just about into the hair line.

There he did manage to stop it and even pull it away entirely, much as he had to struggle to.

He should wake Crowley up. Shake him awake and tell him to sober up, for God – for goodness’ sake.

And have you ever done that the other times he’s fallen asleep on you?

Well, no. He couldn’t say that he had. What he had done was slide himself out from underneath the lanky body as gently and carefully as he possibly could so that he wouldn’t wake Crowley. Not that was likely, given how deeply he appeared to be asleep but even if he didn’t feel anything, Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to manhandle the other. There was no need to, so why do it?

One might argue that he could as well just sit and wait for the demon to wake up on his own accord, perhaps miracle a book into his hands if needed. But not only was Crowley quite the master in sleeping when he had a mind to, such as when he’d been entirely too plastered and hadn’t bothered sobering up before falling asleep, if he woke up and found that he was lying in Aziraphale’s lap, well...

Then he would undoubtedly turn it into some sort of joke or gently teasing quip and Aziraphale wouldn’t be able to cope with the sheer embarrassment and awkwardness. Granted, awkward was almost stitched into the very backbone of the country he had lived in for so much of the last millennium, at least, but even so…

Whatever the case, the angel would have some explaining to do and he wasn’t at all sure that he would be able to do so, and certainly not in a way that wouldn’t leave him somewhat compromised, because why would he allow Crowley to use him as a pillow and mattress while he slept? What possible explanation could he come up with that was remotely plausible?

Except for the truth which would land him right in the whole horrid mess of being rejected. Unquestionably.

So, better all around if he managed to get out of it before there was a risk of Crowley waking up and…and ruining it.

Right. Yes. Best get on with it, hadn’t he? No need to dawdle, after all, it would only further the risk.

He tried to get up. Truly, he did. But by the time he’d wrestled enough control of his limbs back from the alcohol in his body – he would later wonder why exactly he hadn’t just sobered up at that point and come up with no real answer – not to mention his courage and determination, Crowley turned. Not a lot but just about enough so that he could push his face a little into the soft roundness that was Aziraphale’s stomach. His nose, certainly, and was that – that was surely not a hand against his belly, was it?

Struggling to accept what he thought he felt, he looked down and sure enough, though it wasn’t easy to see in the gloom created there, long fingers was splayed gently against the curve of the stomach.

“Crowley…?” he asked, wondering, with a not inconsiderable amount of flashing panic, whether his friend had woken up or was at least aware of his surroundings.

He got no answer, at least none that would definitely indicate that the other was awake. All he got was a muffled huff of breath that might’ve been a contented, sleepy hum or might’ve been something else entirely.

“Crowley, please!” Aziraphale asked, half-hoping that Crowley was awake and more than half-terrified of the same thing.

Nothing. Not even a breath this time.

The sunglasses were digging into the flesh of the stomach of the blond, though, just a little. But Aziraphale had other things on his mind and wouldn’t notice until he later felt and found the indents.

Bit by bit as nothing happened, Aziraphale managed to relax again.

The scare should’ve sobered him up and to be honest, it mainly did so.

He wasn’t quite prepared to admit that, however. Not then and not later because that would bring into question just what he said and did next.

Perhaps not quite next. He did sit for a while, trying to gather himself again. Then he tried to think of a way that would allow him to move the lithe body from him without manhandling him. It should be possible, even in the position they were now in, and yet he was struggling to think of one.

Or maybe that was just because he still felt shaky himself, not helped by the way Crowley would occasionally shift or hum, as though he couldn’t be in a more comfortable position. Which was flattering, really, even Aziraphale could admit that, even if it wasn’t exactly helpful.

As he sat there, however, instead of gathering himself, he could feel his nerves tick steadily upwards, despite his best efforts and he could only feel incredibly grateful that he wasn’t…suffering the issue that humans males might if the object of their desire had planted themselves right in their laps for an extended period of time.

What should he do?

Calm his nerves. That was what he needed. Something to calm him down and make this much easier to handle. Yes. Definitely.

He’d reached for the nearest wine glass, which was his own recently discarded one on the side table next to him and was mysteriously full to almost the brim by the time he brought it to his lips, before he was fully aware of what he’d done.

The liquid went down fast, probably too fast, and it reacted very effectively, not to mention quickly, with the alcohol not yet out of his system.

Even so, though the glass was empty before it left his lips, he filled it again and down another one.

By that point, the nerves had very successfully been dulled if not entirely anesthetised, or even outright killed. But it had also brought back another problem; his limbs felt significantly heavier and more unresponsive than before.

To make matters worse, if that was possible, Crowley had turned back to lie on his back. His hand oddly enough stayed put but his face was once again free for Aziraphale to see and his heart skipped a beat again at the sight of it. More than one beat, actually.

He looked so…peaceful. So content and relaxed in a way that was almost unfathomable when he was awake. Vulnerable, perhaps, though that felt odd to say about someone who’d survived through so much of human history and been witness to many of its most horrid parts. Of course, so had Aziraphale, but though he knew that humanity was far more capable of thinking up horrid things than demons ever could be, he hadn’t been in the front row seat to that many of them. Crowley had and yet…

And yet he was still here, still working, still making his way through eternity as best as he could, with an attitude that nothing could touch him or bother him.

Now, though…it wouldn’t be right to say that he looked younger because he hadn’t changed a bit in six thousand years, neither of them had, but he certainly looked more, yes, vulnerable.

And that vulnerability should be protected. Should be cherished, really, much like the rest of him. Told how beautiful and wonderful he was, not to mention the rest of it.

Aziraphale’s traitorous hand had once more reached out, despite the otherwise continued heaviness and unresponsiveness of his limbs, and it was now sliding its fingers through the fiery hair.

He would later blame the wine entirely for what happened then, but he knew in his heart that he couldn’t entirely blame it on that, however much he wished to.

His fingers slid through the hair again, relishing in the thick softness of the strands against his fingers. Then his mouth decided to betray him, too.

“Crowley,” he murmured. “Dearest Crowley, if only you knew. No, that doesn’t…but if only you could understand – and they would, too. How could anyone know you for any length of time, much less as long as I have had that privilege, and not fall for you?”

What on earth was he saying? Oh, no. No, no, no, no! That couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. Any moment now, yellow eyes would open, and he would be up to the tip of his wings in sh – manure.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, it seemed that his mouth wasn’t done and he was along for the ride, whether he wanted to or not.

“I know I couldn’t. I shouldn’t have, I know that, too, and not just because they wouldn’t approve. But I did, longer ago than I knew, and now I cannot help my love for you. You are funny and kind, no matter what you say, but you are also beautiful, and I find myself longing to know how your lips feel against my own or your fingers feel in my hair. But I’m so grateful we get to spend so much time together now, and I would rather be missing a wing, or both, than have to bear to lose you. So, I guess all I can have is this moment. I love you, my dearest, and I hope you will never know this.”

#good omens fic #good omens #Ineffable Husbands #aziraphale/crowley #crowley/aziraphale #pining aziraphale #love confessions of a sort #drunk crowley #drunk aziraphale #sleeping crowley #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale angst #multi-chapter fic #elphen fic #unaware crowley #accidental confessions #scared aziraphale #hidden feelings #nervous aziraphale #go fic

[another-blog-bites-the-dust]

Ugly jumpers.

Summary: You and Roger find yourselves being the odd ones out at a Christmas party on Christmas Eve.

Warnings: drinking

A/N: Just a little cute festive drabble for you all! I hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful Christmas! 😁💖

It took Brian at least a month to convince you to come to the Christmas Eve party. You declined every time, telling your cousin that you were too busy.

"But it will be a laugh!" He smiled. "Everyone will be wearing the ugliest Christmas jumpers!"

You smirked "I have an ugly Christmas jumper, it's a plain one with a mirror tapped to it but I'd have to follow you about all night..." you laughed and Brian rolled his eyes.

"You've got nothing better to do! Come with me! Fred will be there! He'll miss you if you don't show. Deaky too! He'll be upset! He loves spending time with you. And then there's Roger..." Brian trailed off with a knowing grin.

"Roger wouldn't miss me," you sighed "Roger's got enough people- mainly girls- around him to last a lifetime!" You continued to tidy up your small flat before Brian took the spray bottle from you and sprayed you in the face "You bloody bugger!" You wiped your face with the sleeve of your top before he did it again. "BRIAN!" You screamed.

"I'll stop doing it if you come to the party..." he held the bottle up to your face again, warning you that he wasn't bluffing.

"Fine! This ugly Christmas jumper party thing whatever! I'll go!" He handed you back the bottle with a proud grin on his face. What he failed to mention was that you and Roger were the only ones going to be turning up to the party wearing ugly jumpers. It was all part of a grand scheme devised by himself, Freddie and John. The three of them saw how much you and Roger truly adored and cared for each other- the pair of you were a match made in heaven.

Only neither of you could see that.

You always thought Roger had enough girls around him so didn't need you.

Roger always thought that he wasn't good enough for you but he didn't know how wrong he was.

You had first met Roger when you went along to a Smile concert Brian had invited you to- it was their very first gig. "I'll get you all a drink, beer alright?" You asked Brian over the noise and he nodded, telling you just to head backstage with them before they went on.

You expertly carried four pint glasses in your hand, one for Brian and yourself and the other two for his bandmates. You knocked on a door with your foot and Brian opened it "Cheers Y/N!" He smiled and took two pints from you.

"Jesus, my hands cramped up!" You laughed and instantly passed a glass to an outstretched hand, not bothering to look up until after you shook out the cramp in your hand. When you did eventually look up you saw the bluest eyes you had ever seen looking at you. "Hi," you smiled.

"Hey, I'm Roger. You must be Brian's cousin!" He introduced himself and you nodded "It's good to meet you. Thanks for the pint," he winked and sipped on it a little before grabbing a pair of drumsticks.

"Beer girl then eh?" Another man came up to you "I'm Tim, the singer..." he sent you a creepy smirk and you tried not to grimace. "You don't look like a beer drinker."

Brian looked over to you with a wary glance. He knew what was coming next. "Well Tim," you brought your lips to the glass and downed the whole pint in a matter of seconds, letting out a gasp when you finished it and then took Tim's beer out of his hands and downed that too. "I could drink you under the bloody table." Rogers eyes were wide open, he was impressed that you did that and put Tim in his place.

"Hide your beer, Rog," Brian uttered "She could easily down ours too and still not be drunk! Don't know how she does it!" Brian shook his head.

Roger looked at you in amazement and mindlessly held out his barely touched beer "You don't look like a beer drinker," he said with a small smile on his face. You turned to him, instantly smirking at his playful challenge. You drank the whole thing and handed Roger back an empty glass.

"I'll get you another one," you winked.

Since that day you and Roger hit it off. The pair of you were as thick as thieves, especially when it came to pranking Brian. Tim left the band one night, suddenly announcing to you, Roger and Brian at the back of the van that Smile was going nowhere. You placed your head on Rogers arm and he rested his head on yours. "I'm sure you'll find another singer," and as if by magic, Freddie appeared. Roger teased him at first which earned him a scolding from you. Freddie then belted out a song- you were all amazed at how good he was.

Freddie, Roger and Brian then met John and formed Queen.

You found a Christmas jumper that was so horrific even the cashier raised a brow when he scanned it through. It was bright red and chunky and itchy and had everything Christmassy on it- from candy canes to gingerbread men and snowflakes. It was BAD.

Brian picked you up on the way to the party. "You got your jumper on?" You asked, noticing him wearing a jacket "Aren't you roasting? I'm sweating in this thing!" You panted and aired yourself a little.

"I've got mine on," lie "I'm feeling a little cold." You hummed, it was starting to freeze up a little. You arrived at the party and when you stepped in the door with Brian, everyone looked at you and started giggling away to themselves. You slowly turned your head to Brian and your jaw tightened seeing him in a nice shirt and waistcoat.

"Brian Harold May- I am going to murder you!" You quietly hissed. "Why didn't you tell me no one else would be dressed up like this!"

"There is one person who's dressed the same!" Freddie wrapped his hands around your shoulders and nodded towards Roger who was awkwardly standing in the corner with his drink doting a bright green Christmas jumper that was so ugly it actually looked like a sewing machine had blew up when it was being made it was that bad. Freddie pushed you forward slightly and when Roger saw a flash of red, he instantly looked up.

A wave of relief hit him when he realised he wasn't the only one with the worst jumper in the world on. "Nice..." he smirked. "Where did you get that?"'

You raised a hand "I don't have enough drink in me to talk about these..." you stretched out the ends and made a disgusted face at your jumper "monstrosities!" You sighed "Let me guess- Brian?"

Roger nodded "I'm going to get him good for this," Roger uttered and sipped on his drink. He motioned the cup to you and you happily took a sip, the pair of you were now standing in the corner of the room sharing a cup of drink.

"I kinda want to get out of here..." you said over the music.

Roger looked down at you "Where do you want to go? I'll go with you."

You raised a brow "You would?" Roger loved parties.

"Course!" He said and finished off his drink "Wouldn't want you by yourself on Christmas Eve walking around London. Wouldn't want you walking around London at anytime of year by yourself! People who live in it are bonkers!"

"Coming from a person who lives in London..." you chortled.

"Exactly!" Roger lazily grinned "C'mon! Let's get out of here, no one will notice that we're gone. Plus we are far too fashionable compared to everyone else- these jumpers are fashion statements!" He joked.

"You can say statement again..." you murmured. You looked at your watch "I know a place where we can go."

You and Roger slipped away, he was wrong. People did notice that the two of you were missing- Brian, John and Freddie to be exact.

You and Roger walked arm in arm to the street where you lived, on the corner was a little chippy. You knew the husband and wife who ran it well, there wasn't a soul in the shop- they were about to close soon. "Hi Betty! Is it okay to still order something or are we too late?" You asked.

She waved a hand "Never too late for you dear! Or you," she smiled at Roger. "Who's this Y/N?"

"Uh this is Roger! A good friend of mine. Roger, this is Betty- she's like a second mum to me!" You laughed and she smiled; reaching across the counter and gently squeezing your arm.

"Ah so this is Roger! Y/N is always mentioning you," your cheeks flushed bright red and Roger looked at you with a cocky smirk plastered on his face. "I'll get Ronnie to make your usual late night special!" She winked "Take a seat and I'll bring it over. Cracking jumpers by the way!" The pair of couldn't help but grin as you sat down across from each other, every so often your feet would hit off Roger's leg.

Betty brought you both over a carton and you opened it with a smile on your face. "What is that?" Roger went wide eyed.

"It's going to sound weird but its chips with gravy and cheese," he sent you a strange look. "I promise you it will change your life!" Roger hesitantly took a bit but as soon as the three different flavours hit his tastebuds he was overwhelmed and groaned with delight. "Good?" You asked.

Roger nodded "So good!"

Betty turned the radio on and you and Roger shared a brief glance and a smile hearing 'Thank God it's Christmas' play. "Oh these boys are good, aren't they?" Betty hummed and you nodded, trying not to smile too wide at her obliviousness. She had no idea who Roger really was.

"Yeah," you said and looked to Roger "Especially that bass player! He's great! Not too sure about the drummer though," Roger playfully kicked you under the table with a smirk on his face. "I suppose he's quite good..." you said in a teasing tone. The two of you continued to share the chips "I'm glad we left that party," you admitted "Don't think anyone would have talked to me anyway, especially when I'm wearing this!" You pointed to the jumper.

Roger narrowed his eyes "Why do you think no one would talk to you? Everyone likes you."

You rolled your eyes "No one likes me," you bluntly replied.

Roger felt his heart sink a little. "I like you."

You played with the remaining chips with your fork, keeping your eyes off of Roger. "Not the way I'd like you to like me..." you uttered under your breath. But it was loud enough for Roger to hear. A long spell of silence passed and you were certain that he didn't hear you until he eventually spoke up.

"Who said I don't?"

Your head snapped up to him and you looked at him with a look of sheer shock on your face. He went up to the counter and paid, leaving you with your thoughts. When he came back to the table he helped you off your chair and pushed it in when you stood up.

You walked towards the door in silence before Betty let out a coo. "It's tradition!" She smiled.

You and Roger looked up to the ceiling at the same time, hanging above the door was a sprig of mistletoe. You and Roger looked at each other once again, a small, shy smile forming on your faces before he leaned in and kissed you. You instantly kissed him back, placing a hand on his cheek to steady him when he started to get a bit too passionate. You were still in a fish and chip shop. He pulled back with bright pink lips "Have a wonderful Christmas! It was lovely to meet you! Thanks again!" He waved to Betty and you waved goodbye to her also, wishing her and Ronnie a Merry Christmas too.

"Hope to see you again, Roger!" She waved "Take care, Y/N!"

The pair of you left the shop and were hit in the face by the cold air. "Can I do that again?" Roger quietly asked although his voice sounded louder in the cold, still air.

"Do what?" You asked.

"Kiss you?"

You bit down on your lip before nodding, Rogers lips instantly planting themselves on yours when you agreed. You both smiled while you kissed- Rogers hands found themselves on your face, he wanted to just hold and kiss you forever. You broke apart when you felt something cold on your cheek. It was snowing.

You both looked up to the sky and then to each other "Merry Christmas, Roger."

"Merry Christmas, Y/N."

————————————

Tags- (tags are open! Just let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in anything!)

@lastsforever-sixbloodyminutes

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #ben hardy! roger taylor #roger taylor #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #bohemian rhapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody imagine #borhap imagine #borhap #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddie mercury #bohemian rhapsody #gwilym lee #rami malek #joe mazzello

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael After Midnight: The Legend of Korra

Avatar: The Last Airbender is, without a single doubt in my mind, one of, if not the, greatest cartoons of all time; it’s up there with Batman: The Animated Series, The Simpsons, and all those other time-tested classics. But even as it ended, there was always this feeling like the magnificent world created for the show could be explored ever further, expanded upon, and just in general be given a whole lot of new perspectives.

Enter The Legend of Korra.

The show is set several decades after Aang saved the world (as Katara always believed he could, according to the opening narration). Aang eventually died and a new avatar was born, the titular Korra; the show is all about how she comes into her own as the Avatar.

Now, just from that brief summary, it seems like this show would be an awesome thing right off the bat, right? Everything is there for this to be an epic continuation of an incredible animated work… and yet, it took this show two Books to truly find itself, and even then there were some truly questionable storytelling decisions that leave this show far behind Avatar in terms of quality. And look, I like this show. I really do. I enjoy it, I enjoy seeing the callbacks to the earlier series, I like most of the villains a great deal, I love the mythos they created about the Avatar as a concept by showing us its origin, there is a lot of genuinely great stuff that’s on par with the original series here. But while the original show had weak episodes here and there, Korra had entire weak Books; where the original show had some occasional bad writing, Korra had some truly bad plot points; and where the original show had a dragged-out romantic arc that, while a bit tedious, never really overstayed its welcome, Korra had one of the absolute worst romantic arcs in modern fiction with the most terrible, stupid, pandering, and nonsensical ending imaginable, one that insults me on so many levels.

But I’m getting far ahead of myself there. I’m going to briefly go over each Book and what works about each, and what doesn’t. The best place to start is from the beginning, so… let’s start there.

Book 1 has a sort of reputation as being a Book that was too rushed to really live up to its full potential. And you know what? I’ll agree to that. Nickelodeon really screwed this show over big time throughout its run, but the tiny amount of episodes they allowed the first Book was a big problem. The plot that doesn’t really get going until halfway through, the inane twists, the rushed conclusion… with more episodes things could have been fleshed out a lot better. Here’s the thing, though: even with more time, if they kept a lot of this Book the same… it would still suck a whole lot of ass.

Book 1 is pretty much a trainwreck, evident from the first scene, which shows a toddler Korra bursting through a wall, showing off every kind of bending save air, and saying “I’M THE AVATAR AND YOU GOTTA DEAL WITH IT!” This is our introduction to our main character. This is the first time we see her, our first impression. And they decide to introduce her in the least likable, most obnoxious, and dare I say most Mary Sue-ish way possible.

Now I have gone on record before saying I absolutely loathe the term Mary Sue; I find it to be a term that lacks any real substance to it and is really just shorthand for someone to dismiss a character. But the most common definition - a character who has so much going for them, rarely suffers any consequences, and is just well liked by everyone while getting the world handed to them - actually, sadly, fits Korra in the early episodes. She’s good at all forms of bending save air from when she’s a toddler, she almost instantly becomes a pro playing sports, she gets two cute boys fawning over her, she gets the greatest possible airbending teacher anyone could ask for… One could argue she gets built up so much like this to make her being torn down halfway through the Book more powerful, but it just really comes off as grating and obnoxious to watch.

It’s not like the other characters are written much better. Mako in particular is written to be one of the biggest morons on Earth, and Bolin, while charming, is something of a Diet Sokka. Tenzin is easily the best character of the Book, what with being voiced by J.K. Simmons and all, but his children… yuck. All of them are annoying and just feel superfluous, with Meelo in particular existing for seemingly no reason other than fart jokes. It’s not like Avatar was above using those kinds of jokes, but they didn’t have an entire character dedicated to them. Lin Beifong is pretty cool, a worthy successor to Toph, though be warned: she takes a lot of stupid pills between this Book and the next. Asami is pretty and badass, and she’s also one of the better characters of the Book, but sadly she gets tangled up in the worst aspect of the entire first Book: the love triangle.

The love triangle involves Korra, who is loved by Bolin and Mako, though Mako was in a relationship with Asami after they met, and Korra is with Bolin, but secretly likes Mako and… who cares? This is not what anyone wants out of a show based on Avatar. Just because they’re teenagers doesn’t mean they need to get up in all of this sub-par soap opera bullshit. This here honestly ruins the Book; while some would say Book 2 was the weaker Book due to its incredibly stupid plot and lackluster villain, at least Book 2 had Varrick and the Avatar Wan episodes. This Book really doesn’t have any big plus it can count in its favor. No, not even Amon.

Amon is the villain of Book 1, and early on he is just indescribably cool. His menacing voice provided by the always excellent Steve Blum, his creepy mask that evokes the titular V of V for Vendetta, his ability to remove bending, the fact he manages to scare Korra shitless… it’s all amazing. And then comes the reveal that he’s actually a bender. A waterbender, even. He has been using bloodbending this whole time to remove people’s bending. All of the shit from the big reveal really just leads to defang Amon from a nightmarish force to be reckoned with to a miserable bundle of angst. Noatak, who he is revealed to truly be, feels like an entirely different character. Still, even with his derailment, his final scene is one of the most effective in the entire series: as he and his brother escape on a flying ship, his brother, despite his brother’s words indicating that he wants to start over a new life with him and have things be good between them again, takes an electrical gauntlet and fires into the ship’s fuel tank, causing an explosion which kills them both. This is a murder-suicide that was shown on Nickelodeon. It is emotional, powerful, and truly shocking in a good way. It’s easily the standout scene of the Book, and almost makes it worth it.

Then comes the asspull.

You see, Korra had her bending taken by Amon. This could have led to so many incredible storylines as she worked to gain it back, utilizing only the airbending she was stuck with, the one kind of bending she wasn’t instantly good at. Sure, it may have ended up retreading a bit of Aang’s struggles, but that was good stuff! But instead… Aang’s spirit comes out of nowhere and the past Avatars all combine their powers and POOF! Korra gets her bending back. This is a dreadful resolution; I get they were unsure if they’d get to follow up on this or not, but leaving the door open with uncertainty is so much better than closing a bunch of doors. Why not have her just get a talk from Aang, telling her she can get her power back with enough training? End it on a dark but still hopeful note, with her having to work back up to how she was before. That would have been a hell of a lot better than this deus ex machina crap.

Overall, Book 1 is just a hot mess. It has isolated elements that are pretty good, but overall it’s kind of a complete mess story wise and character wise. It’s frankly amazing this show got a second Book… but it did. And oh lord is this Book something.

Book 2’s biggest crime is that it is utterly forgettable. I hardly remember anything from the first half of this Book because it is just so bland and uninteresting, and while it’s nowhere near as bad as Book 1’s love triangle, it doesn’t even stick in the mind. The shining gem of this first half - and the Book as a whole, mind you, if not the SERIES - is Varrick, the eccentric inventor, and his beleaguered assistant Zhu Li, who is frequently asked by Varrick to “do the thing.” These two make all the difference; without them this Book would easily be more unwatchable than the first, but with them… well, it still sucks but they manage to carry things.

Unalaq, the villain of the Book, is an utter bore. He’s obviously bad from the get-go and he is easily overshadowed later by the far more intriguing Vaatu, who ties deep into the mythos of the series by being one of the reasons the Avatar came to be at all. Unalaq also has two kids who are just as boring as he is and who spend the series not doing much anything noteworthy.

The real draws of this Book are basically everything to do with the spirits and their realm, as well as the origin story of the Avatar. Avatar Wan’s big two parter is the first part of the series to feel as fresh and epic as the original series, and it shows us just how the Avatar came to be in the first place. The other scenes in the spirit world are pretty great, featuring appearances from Uncle Iroh, Wan Shi Ton, and Admiral Zhao of all people. Then there’s the big shakeup at the end: Korra is now cut off from her past lives, and spirits and humans can now live together. These are some huge changes to the status quo of the series to the point where it feels like an apology for how bad and pointless Book 1 feels in the grand scheme of things. And you know what? Apology accepted. Book 2 is a mess, but it manages to find itself in the end and help steer the show into being the great work it ended up as.

Now on to Book 3.Book 3 is where the show really was able to show off how great it could be, to the point my only issues with the Book are minor. Most of my problems stem from the fact that Korra had very small Book, with about 12 or so episodes per book as opposed to Avatar’s 20. This is kind of a problem, because it gives some characters less of a time to develop, a fate that unfortunately befalls the members of the Red Lotus who aren’t Zaheer. Now don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore the Red Lotus and think they’re all fascinating villains, and Zaheer is one of the most interesting villains in the series as an evil airbender, but Ming-Hua, Ghazan, and P’Li sadly get very little in terms of backstory. You DO get something, but they end up feeling more like the Cobra Unit from Snake Eater than fully fleshed-out bad guys… which is to say, they’re fun and effective, just don’t expect them to show great complexity. I wholeheartedly believe that they could have been expanded on if Book 3 had those extra seven episodes in it, and it’s a real shame we didn’t get to truly explore these fascinating characters.

My other problems, again, are pretty minor. I didn’t much care for Bumi becoming an airbender, and felt like it sort of cheapened his and Tenzin’s character a bit. Kai, a pubescent airbender scamp, was not a very likable character here, and it was pretty annoying having to put up with him, not to mention his ship tease with Jinora. Zuko also shows up, but it’s in a very minor role and he’s not really focused on at all. There’s a few more nitpicks here and there but these things are really my main issues.

The story is a lot darker and more mature here, especially in its repercussions for the rest of the series. Korra’s near-death experience here leaves her broken and haunted by PTSD, which becomes a major focus in Book 4. This Book is also where they really stopped giving a shit, and there are several particularly shocking and gruesome deaths for the show. We have Zaheer answer that age-old fan question “Could an airbender suck the air out of somene’s lungs?” with a demonstration on the Earth Queen, P’Li’s laser eye backfires and blows her head up, Ming-Hua is painfully electrocuted to death, and Ghazan takes a page from Gollum’s book and dies immersed in lava (and rubble for good measure).

This Book truly delivers the experience this series promised us in the beginning; it truly feels like an evolution of the Avatar series in the best way possible. While there are a few bumps here and there, there’s nothing really brutally bad that could derail the overall quality of the season. It has a great villain, and that villain has a great villain posse; there’s a lot of great cameos and character appearances, including some surprising ones; we learn more about Lin’s past; we get a whole lot more airbenders and an interesting plot going on with them that even in the end makes Kai more likable; and most importantly we have a solid plot with real consequences on the characters.

Oh, and there’s that little Zelda Williams character who appears near the end… wonder what her significance is…

She’s Book 4’s bad guy.

Book 4 is the final season of Korra, and while I don’t think many would say it surpasses Book 3 (which is quite the task, considering), I definitely think it’s a really great final season that wraps up just about everything that needs to be wrapped up. It also does a really good job with character development, like, REALLY good.

This season is where Korra really becomes a character I love, because her struggles are very personal and interesting. She’s constantly haunted by what happened to her in Book 3, and is stalked by a shadowy version of herself wherever she goes. Long gone is the obnoxious borderline Mary Sue character that she felt like in the first season; here, Korra truly feels human and relatable. More impressive than even that may be the transformation of the character Prince Wu, who starts the season as one of the single most unlikable characters in the whole series but ends up as an amusing and even somewhat heroic figure. Frankly I find it hard to hate a character who utilizes his terrible singing to help evacuate a city.

As I mentioned before, Kuvira is the villain, and she’s very much a visionary sort who thinks ruling the world under her iron fist is what’s best for everyone. Zelda Williams really gives her a real air of importance and even a bit of sympathy; she’s definitely a great example of an anti-villain of the quality of Zaheer, though I wouldn’t go as far as to say she’s as good as him exactly. Still, one can’t help but appreciate a woman who creates a massive robot that fires death lasers made out of entirely unbendable platinum. I know a lot of people find this thing to be utterly ridiculous and stupid, with little foreshadowing of its existence and just in general how ludicrously impossible and impractical it could be… but come on, it’s a GIANT ROBOT. I guess it just appeals to my inner Metal Gear fan, even if I do realize and accept it’s the most ridiculous thing in any of the two series.

I think what’s really great about this book is how it really just makes things that shouldn’t work, work really well. Case in point: there was an annoying, executive mandated clip show that, if they didn’t do, would have caused a lot of staff to be laid off. So what does the team do? They use the episode to take the piss out of everything in the show that didn’t work, from the shitty romance subplots to a hilarious scene where Zaheer, Amon, and Vaatu are all on the phone and trying to keep not just Unalaq, but Varrick’s movie version of Unalaq, out of the loop. In fact, the entire thing basically being Varrick doing an abridged series of the show is golden, because everything Varrick does is golden. Speaking of Varrick, his “Do the thing” catchphrase is used interestingly three times: one time it is a legitimately heartbreaking tearjerker, and the other two are just the sweetest, most heartwarming things you will ever hear. This sounds absurd, but again: this Book is all about making the most implausible things end up pretty good.

There’s so much about this Book that really makes it stand out - from Hiroshi Sato managing to reconcile with his daughter and sacrifice himself to the return of so many characters to just about everyone getting a happy ending… it’s a shame that it all got overshadowed by the most shallow, stupid moment of the entire series. Hell, BOTH series. You know what I’m talking about, you know what it is, it’s the thing that made me want to write this review in the first place:

Asami and Korra end up an official couple.

Now, generally speaking I wouldn’t have a problem with this. I like both characters, I myself am bisexual so it’s nice to see characters represent me in media, and hey, I’ve always championed Dumbledore as a great LGBT character when he was never explicitly shown to be so, so why do I hate this so much? Well, in regards to the latter, here’s the thing: Dumbledore is not the main character of the series, and his homosexuality is foreshadowed. We are not privy to Dumbledore’s private thoughts, we are not even given an in-depth look at his character until he dies in the penultimate book, and romance was never really a focus of the character. In contrast, Korra is in fact the main character of the show and who we follow the most, romance has unfortunately been a major factor in her development since the first Book, and the biggest problem: her being bi for Asami comes right the fuck out of nowhere.

There is like one line earlier in the book where Korra, while wandering, only really wrote to Asami. That’s it. These two barely interact or show any signs of romantic interest in each other until that final moment when they walk into the portal together. It feels like the ultimate ass pull, just a really lame third option to resolve all the love triangle garbage while simultaneously winning brownie points for being such a bold, daring move for a cartoon… but it doesn’t even show them kiss. They stare longingly at each other. THAT’S IT. Contrast Steven Universe, which is wholly and unabashedly filled with LGBT romance, particularly Garnet, who is literally the physical embodiment of a lesbian relationship, or even Adventure Time, who built up PB and Marceline’s past romance before having them get together and even kiss onscreen in the finale of that show. Korra is ultimately nothing`special, and that final moment was not a big step forward for representation or an important moment in TV history. It was a poorly built up shocking swerve that ended a series that had finally risen to the quality of the series it spun off from with the same bullshit that hampered this show’s original seasons to begin with.

Despite this, Book 4 is definitely a good finale to a show that, while it didn’t start out as such, ended up great. Really, the fact the final book was good despite having a lot of stupid elements and bad romantic resolutions is sort of a microcosm of the show as a whole, and showed despite those things the show could still tell an interesting story and be as grand as the original show was.

I don’t think this is one of the greatest cartoons of all time, but as a sort of follow up to the original series, I think it’s pretty solid. It was at its best when it was trying to tell mature stories and deal with darker subject matter than one would expect from a modern cartoon, and fumbled when it tried to shoehorn in the sort of romantic gunk one expects from teenagers. It worked best with its characters when their flaws felt natural and their issues were personal, and its villains worked better when they had simple yet fully fleshed out goals rather than overly complicated backstories or evil for the sake of evil. Korra is most definitely a mixed bag, but it’s a mixed bag I definitely recommend opening up sometime. If you liked the original show or just like story-driven or action oriented shows in general, this is one of the best ones of recent years. You have to slog through some crummy stuff to get to the gems, but boy oh boy are those gems shiny.

Also, I should have mentioned this earlier, but I am just so happy Toph is just a cranky old bad bitch even after all that time. Even while the Avatar world changed so much, it’s nice to know that some things will never change,

#Michael After Midnight #Review #TV show review #legend of korra #The legend of Korra #Korra #avatar #Avatar: the last airbender

[tokutenshi]

Lineage - part 3 -

@alistairappreciationweek day 4: Family

(the conclusion. hope it doesn’t let anyone down \:D/)

The official story was that the king had fallen ill and designated Teagan to handle matters during his temporary absence. More important meetings and audiences were pushed back, but the arl was able to deal with much of the more common and tedious issues and was respected enough to not have every decision questioned. For the nobles that were unsatisfied and demanded the king's opinion, Teagan calmly informed them that he would bring the matter forward and get back to them. In truth, Alistair wasn't in any frame of mind to be hearing the, comparatively, petty problems of his citizens.

His world had changed in a matter of minutes, and there was no way to change it back. One of his most trusted advisors had acted against his wishes and destroyed their relationship for the good of the country. The country was still unaware of such betrayal as Teagan had secured Eamon in guest quarters and quietly sent for discreet healers to deal with the wounds before they became infected. As angry at Eamon as Alistair was, he couldn't deny that he would have regretted killing him. Eamon had been kind and understanding once and Alistair owed him much. All of that goodwill was gone now, but a calmer Alistair couldn't sentence the man who cared for him in his early years to the headman's axe.

He couldn't forgive him either.

When Alistair's head wasn't hurting too much to think straight, he passed queries along with Teagan and the answers he got back only made the throbbing in his skull and the churning of his stomach worse. Eamon's scheme – because what else could it really be called? - was far more elaborate and thought out than Alistair originally feared it was. He hadn't simply been drugged into submission and then tricked into laying with a serving girl for the sake of producing a child, and Alistair wondered if all that time being married to an Orlesian had forced Eamon to learn their insufferable Grand Game.

Extensive research was done on fertility remedies and which could be combined safely with aphrodisiacs,  hallucinogens, and wine – Eamon changing the concoction with each visit in hopes of producing results. It was always the same partner to keep the illusion and secret going and when Alistair asked what became of her after the child was born, all he got back was that she had been taken care of. Whether that meant she was paid off, shipped off somewhere, or killed, he didn't know, and frankly he wasn't sure he could stomach to. The woman had been carefully selected to resemble the queen as much as possible, because while an heir was important, it being passed off as a true heir was just as much so. That part made Alistair feel the worst.

Though he had been under the influence of Maker knows what, all it had taken was a body of similar build and the same haircut and he had given in. If he were truly an honorable man, if he truly deserved the love Kaedence had shown him, then he should have been able to spot the fake. Thinking on it, there were differences between the imposter and his wife, he was just too overtaken by his foggy lust to dwell on them. He chalked it up to being a dream at the time, but if he really cared for his love as much as he claimed to... Maker, how could he have been so weak?

What would Kaedence say when she returned? He had no excuse for what he'd done, nothing to say that could soften the betrayal. She was off working hard to find a cure for them so they could be together forever, and he hadn't been strong enough to resist a warm body he let himself believe was hers. Kaedence was always the strong one, the clever one, and he was feeling less and less like a worthy partner with each passing day.

The child – his son – had been taken away from its mother the near instant it was born and given to a wet nurse. To help perpetuate the illusion Eamon was creating, he had been collecting the babe and passing it to a new wet nurse every few weeks with a slightly altered story. This muddled chain of custody would make it virtually impossible for anyone to connect the child to its true birth and Eamon had planned to inform Alistair about everything when the boy was old enough to make sea travel sound plausible. Eamon's ultimate goal was for the public to believe their queen had given birth abroad and sent the child ahead where it might be properly taken care of. Alistair bristled at the idea immediately, as people would be more likely to think Kaedence had been unfaithful to him since she hadn't stepped foot in Ferelden for years, but then he recalled all of the political excursions Eamon had insisted he take just days after the “dream” and realized that too had been part of the plan. If the king was out of the country, who's to say he hadn't rendezvoused with the queen and the trip had all been a smoke screen for their meeting?

So many things taken into account, so many variables considered, but there was one aspect of the scheme that Eamon had no control of: Alistair's reaction to the child itself. While he was powerless to reverse any of the things Eamon had done so far, it wasn't too late to keep the child away. No one would have to know about the babe, Alistair didn't have to claim him, and the child could grow up out of the public eye.

Grow up without knowing its father or mother.

Grow up feeling discarded and unloved.

Grow up alone.

Alistair had gone through much of that himself, with the added bonus of knowing who his father was, but being unable to ever connect with him. Seeing his father and half-brother have a relationship he never could and being called bastard more often then his actual name had been heartbreaking and he couldn't figure out if not being told who he was would have been better or worse. Alistair hated his childhood. The one good thing in it had been far too brief to make up for all the bad, but the day that the good thing came back into his life had been one of the happiest he'd ever had. Kaedence had been a spark of light in his dark childhood and the sun itself in his life now, but the chances of something equally as fortunate happening for anyone else was beyond miniscule.

The question then became if Alistair could subject someone else to live as he had. But that was only part of the issue. Bringing the child into his life could be done in many ways; a secret that he kept under his roof, an acknowledged bastard, or the lie Eamon was hoping for. Hiding the child from the public would be far too close to his own rearing and a bastard, no matter how formally acknowledged or high-born, would always be treated with disdain. That left following through with Eamon's scheme and dragging Kaedence into the lie without knowing how she would react to it. Could Alistair do that to her? Could he really force a false child on her after all the struggling and heartache she endured in trying to have one of their own?

–

In the end, Alistair realized this was too big of a decision to make from his chambers and arranged for his uncles and a small contingent of trusted guards to go with him to see the child. One thing he had been able to figure out was the punishment Eamon would endure and Teagan agreed it sounded fair. Exile would be too public a sentence and cause a stir among the populous, raising questions as to what the much beloved man could have done to warrant it, so – like so many other things in his life now – Alistair resigned to hiding the truth. Eamon would be forbidden from returning to Ferelden, but he would be carrying out his sentence as an ambassador stationed in Orlais. As far as foreign postings went, Orlais was rather nice to the casual observer until they realized that Eamon was a key figure in ending the Orlesian Occupation and had killed more than his fair share of mask-wearers. Grudges could run very deep in noble lines and life would not be easy for him there.

Additionally, it would have been unfair to punish Isolde for her husband's actions. It was only her own fear and insecurities that pushed Teagan to confront his brother at all and if she had been even a bit complicit in the scheme, she never would have done anything to expose it. She, too, was an accidental victim and it seemed only kind to bring her closer to her long absent friends and family.

Eamon had been moving the child closer and closer to Denerim with each wet nurse switch, staying near ports to help support his story, and the place he'd come to currently rest at was none other than Highever. This was Kaedence's ancestral home, where her world collapsed the first time, and to hide the evidence of Alistair's infidelity here made him feel as though they were doing the same thing again. Despite the numerous invitations her brother Fergus extended, Kaedence couldn't bring herself to come back to the sight of her family's slaughter just yet and now Alistair was certain she never would.

They arrived at a well kept inn a fair enough distance from the harbor to make it respectable and left the guard outside. Alistair, still uncertain of what he would do, kept his travel cloak tight and his cowl on, silently following Eamon as he lead the small group through the establishment. The king felt nervous – anxious – and feeling only got worse with each step that drew him closer to the room . He felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping his progress, and turned to regard Teagan.

“Let us wait here for a moment,” the arl said softly, directing them closer to the wall and positioning Alistair's back to the targeted door. Eamon knocked and entered the room, his deep voice conversing with an unfamiliar feminine one in a short exchange. A woman walked past the pair in the corridor without a hint or recognition or hesitance and after a brief pause to ensure she was gone, Teagan ushered Alistair forward again.

Eamon stood over a swaddled form resting in a woven basket on the bed, expression soft as he watched the child sleep. He turned to the others as they entered and closed the door, securing the space for speaking once again. “This is him,” Eamon introduced in a near whisper, unconsciously trying to not wake the babe. “All of the travel has had no ill effects – he remains healthy.”

Alistair crept closer to the bed, the nervous feeling threatening to overwhelm him as he peeked over the reed rim, expecting some maniacal looking figure wringing its hands. After all, the child had been created and exposed to so much subterfuge that surely it had picked up on and adopted the deceit as second nature. What he saw was nothing like that. There was just this soft, squishy looking being with puffy cheeks and dainty wisps of hair.

He pushed back his cowl and stopped just short of bumping his knees on the mattress, eyes fixed on the child that had caused him so much grief, yet was blameless of the entire mess. “Can I hold him?” Alistair asked without thinking in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own, surprised as the words left his mouth.

Eamon carefully picked up the bundled babe and laid him in Alistair's arms, adjusting his limbs to show him where to support. The child was so light, so frail, that Alistair feared both dropping and crushing him. “He's so tiny,” Alistair mumbled in concern. “That woman who passed us didn't exactly look young. What if her milk's spoiled and its making him sick? Are you sure he's really healthy?”

“Quite sure,” Eamon chuckled. “He looks just like you did at that age.”

“Really?” Alistair looked up briefly to check for any signs of deception, not that he'd be able to tell with Eamon any more, then back to the child. What faint hair it had did look sort of ginger, but everything else was so... little that Alistair couldn't tell one way or another. In that moment, the child stirred and opened its mouth wide in silent yawn, blinking its bright eyes to stare into a matching set. “Oh,” Alistair started, completely caught off guard, “um, good morning. No, its past noon by now, uh, good afternoon?”

The child squirmed against the secure swaddling in an attempt to free its hands and Alistair could actually feel the ice that had encased his chest since Eamon came clean melt away and puddle his heart along with it. Part of him knew he should take more time to think, but the larger part that won out screamed that no matter how or why the child had come into the world, it was his. He  felt it in the raised hairs on his skin and deep in his bones, saw it in the way the child was trying to reach for him. It didn't matter who the mother was, because he was the father, and there was no doubt about that. This was his child, his son, and he never wanted him to suffer as he had.

“We should write ahead so the castle can prepare for our return,” Alistair said suddenly, placing the babe back in the basket.

“Alistair?” Teagan gently prodded, uncertain what decision had been made.

“Because he'll need things, right?” The king picked up the basket in its entirety and looked around the small room for other items that seemed baby related. “Little guy can't sleep in this forever. He'll need a room set up and a wet nurse – like I said, I’m not so sure about the one he has now. And a nanny, but nannies are for later, aren't they?”

Eamon rubbed the back of his finger across the child's cheek, then lightly touched Alistair's shoulder. “I'll contact the next wet nurse I had on standby and dismiss the rest. I am sorry it had to be done this way, but-”

“It didn't, Eamon, but it is done.”

The older man nodded and left to do as he promised.

A few moments of quiet passed, broken up only by the random, soft noises of the babe. “So,” Teagan began, trying to keep the darker parts of the situation from muddling the one bright aspect. “Who shall I say is returning?”

Alistair had no way of reaching his wife. She moved around too much during her quest and never gave instruction on how he might reply to her letters, but he could only hope she would understand he was not making a decision on what was best for saving face, but what was best for the child. None of them had asked for any of this, but the child was blameless and to be punished for being born was something far too cruel for either king or queen to condone. When Alistair could finally tell Kaedence about what happened – because he was most certainly going to tell her everything the very moment he was able – he would accept whatever punishment she dealt him for betraying her twice over and seeing Eamon's plan to completion. All he could do was hope she wouldn't hold anything against his son and maybe, just maybe, be able to accept the child as her own.

“Well, there's you and me and Eamon.” Alistair paused to adjust his hold on the basket just a little. “And his royal squishiness, Prince Duncan, son of Alistair and Kaedence Theirin.”

#day 4 #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #king alistair #alistair theirin #woot i did it #almost 6am #but i did it #feels good to write again #tw: noncon #tw: rape #tw: r*pe #nongraphic

[junker-town]

5 NFL preseason trades that would make a lot of sense

Melvin Gordon and Trent Williams want new deals, if not new teams. Here’s where we’d like to see them end up.

The 2019 NFL season is a month away, but that doesn’t mean this year’s opening day rosters are anywhere close to set. Teams will spend the next several weeks analyzing their strengths and weaknesses before coming up with the 53-man combination they hope will be Super Bowl-worthy come February.

While most of the moves that lead up to Week 1 will be relatively minor, a few landscape-changing trades could be on the way. Contract holdouts this summer have turned impact players like Melvin Gordon, Trent Williams, and Jadeveon Clowney into potential August trade bait.

These megadeals don’t happen often, but when they do it can change the outlook of the league. Khalil Mack turned his quest for a record-setting deal in Oakland into a division title with the Bears after being traded last September. Two years ago, the Bills sent Sammy Watkins to LA, where he led the resurgent Rams in touchdown receptions. In 2016, the Vikings gave up a first-round pick for a revitalized Sam Bradford following Teddy Bridgewater’s devastating knee injury.

Sometimes these moves fuel a playoff run. Other times they end up being a relative waste of draft assets. But if we were given omnipotent NFL general manager powers this preseason, here are the moves that would be on the top of our wish lists.

Washington OT Trent Williams to the Browns

General manager John Dorsey pushed his chips to the center of the table this offseason, sacrificing assets and cap space to bring expensive veterans like Odell Beckham Jr., Olivier Vernon, and Sheldon Richardson to northeast Ohio. Adding one more would shore up one of his team’s biggest weaknesses. While Greg Robinson has provided a nice redemption story after washing out with the Rams and Lions, he’s still a shaky option to protect Baker Mayfield’s blindside at left tackle.

Williams would be an immediate upgrade. The seven-time Pro Bowler has consistently been a sunbeam bursting through the never-ending tempest of Washington football. He’s currently looking for a new deal that pays him like one of the league’s top tackles (he is) and is also reportedly untrusting of Washington management and its training staff. He’s ripe to be freed.

There will be several bidders for his services — Houston and Minnesota are also in need of a franchise pocket protector — but another bold move would be right up Dorsey’s alley. Losing Mayfield due to injury would be an especially Browns way to derail their momentum. Dorsey needs to take as many drastic steps as he needs to keep that from happening. — Christian D’Andrea

Cowboys OT La’el Collins to the Texans

This is a trade that could benefit both teams. We all know that the Texans desperately need help along the offensive line — remember, Deshaun Watson got sacked 62 times last year and the Texans used their first-round pick on a project tackle who may end up playing guard.

Collins isn’t an elite offensive lineman, but he could pretty easily be the best one Houston has. Plus, his contract expires after the season and the Texans are projected to have a boatload of cap space in 2020 to extend him.

It could also help the Cowboys in the long-term as well. They’re still working on extensions for Dak Prescott, Amari Cooper, and Ezekiel Elliott. That’s going to create a sticky cap situation to navigate for the next few years, so acquiring more cheap contracts through the draft is something that would be beneficial for them.

Letting go of Collins for the 2019 season would sting for Dallas, but in the grand scheme of things it might make life a little easier for them in the coming years. (Please don’t attack me Cowboys fans I’m just thinking out loud.) — Charles McDonald

Texans Edge Jadeveon Clowney to the Panthers

Houston’s in a tough spot with Clowney. He has the potential and elite athleticism to be one of the game’s most disruptive pass rushers, though he has yet to hit that ceiling. Is that worth a nine-figure contract extension for a team that already features two highly paid cornerstones (J.J. Watt, DeAndre Hopkins) and is slated to give Deshaun Watson a huge new deal in the next two years?

Given Clowney’s steady improvement and recent health, it probably is — but let’s look at the other side of that coin. The versatile defensive end/linebacker would be a boon for a Carolina team with the punishing interior pass-rushing duo of Kawann Short and Gerald McCoy but limited support on the edges of the pocket. The Panthers ranked 25th in the league in sack rate last season and were even worse in blitz downs.

Convincing the Texans to give up a prized part of their potent defense would go a long way toward fixing that. And even though Carolina has less cap space in 2020 than Houston, the potential retirement of Greg Olsen and release of Dontari Poe would free up approximately $25 million in room next spring to retain Clowney via expensive extension. Throwing a Clowney, Mario Addison, Bruce Irvin, and rookie first-rounder Brian Burns defensive end rotation around the middle of a defense led by Short, McCoy, and linebacker Luke Kuechly would made the Panthers an intimidating out against any opponent in 2019.

The Texans have the cap space to keep Clowney around on a market-resetting deal if need be. The question is whether they’ll want to make that move knowing it could eat into the resources needed to reinforce an offensive line with the structural integrity of a bread bowl. If Houston decides Clowney’s not worth a long-term investment, there’s some logic behind trading him while he can still fetch value in return — not a lot of logic, granted, but it’s still a consideration. Should the Texans part ways with the former No. 1 overall pick, the NFC South could be waiting. — Christian D’Andrea

Chargers RB Melvin Gordon to the Bills

For a brief moment in the weird Antonio Brown-Steelers divorce saga, the football world thought the receiver was being traded to Buffalo. There was a lot of pointing and laughing at Brown, who — according to Ian Rapoport — was about to be jettisoned to NFL Siberia in Upstate New York. He was set to play for an offense that was dead last in passing touchdowns. Alas, it didn’t come to be, although one could definitely argue getting traded to the Raiders isn’t much better.

All that to say, Gordon getting traded to Buffalo would probably be received the same way. After requesting a trade from the Chargers, it’d look like a giant middle finger to the running back if he were sent from a contender to the Bills — no matter how bullish you are on the young roster’s upside.

Here’s why Gordon would have reason to be happy about it, though: The Bills could give him the contract he wants.

Buffalo has over $22 million in cap space for the 2019 season and is currently projected to have about $60 million available in 2020. One reason for all that freed up space is that LeSean McCoy — who counts $9.05 million against the cap this year — is set to hit free agency next year.

The Chargers are reportedly holding firm to an offer of $10 million per year for Gordon. That’s a little insulting to the two-time Pro Bowl running back when Todd Gurley, Le’Veon Bell, and David Johnson all have deals that average at least $13 million. The Bills could easily give Gordon a deal that averages about $13 million and still have more room to build.

Buffalo could use the help too. McCoy is 31 now and averaged a career-worst 3.2 yards per carry in 2018. Chris Ivory didn’t fare much better with 3.3 yards per attempt. Maybe Frank Gore and T.J. Yeldon will help in 2019, but neither is the future for the Bills at running back.

Gordon could be that — and give Josh Allen a reliable threat in and out of the backfield for years to come. — Adam Stites

Browns RB Duke Johnson to the Jaguars

Johnson’s status in Cleveland is up in the air. Although the Browns want the versatile tailback on the roster to serve as a valuable receiver out of the backfield, Johnson is unhappy with his spot on the roster after the offseason signing of Kareem Hunt and has requested a trade to search for bigger opportunities elsewhere.

One place he’d be able to shine is Jacksonville. Johnson’s receiving chops would give him the chance to immediately fill the void left behind by T.J. Yeldon, who had 55 catches one year ago but is now in Buffalo. Johnson would almost certainly see more targets in Florida than he did in Ohio, too. The Jags’ wide receiver and tight end depth charts are pretty grim.

New quarterback Nick Foles will spend his debut season in Duval County searching for playmaking targets who can move the chains. Foles hasn’t been prolific when it comes to finding runners on screens or wheel routes — only 18.3 percent of his targets the past two seasons went to running backs, per Pro Football Reference — but that could change in an instant given the lack of talent he’s facing downfield.

Johnson would also have the ability to showcase his skills as a runner on a team that’s still focused on making Leonard Fournette — he of the career 3.7 yards per carry average — happen. If Johnson wants a role beyond just third-down back and third man up on a roster that includes Hunt and Nick Chubb, Jacksonville may be the perfect place for it. — Christian D’Andrea

[spongebob-reviewed]

Episode 92: Atlantis SquarePantis

“♪~ Good-bye, Atlantis. We're Bikini Bottom bound. There's no place like home! ~♪”

Synopsis: SpongeBob and friends take a trip to Atlantis, a lost city with all of their desires, but encounter some trouble when they destroy their most prized possession. Meanwhile, Patchy gets lost in the desert when his home town goes missing.

Well, everybody, here we are: review number one-hundred. When I first created this blog, I decided I’d tackle one of the movies every hundred episodes or so, including the two TV movies. Since TV movies are considerably smaller than regular movies, I figured this would be the first one I’d take on. Now before we dive in, I must say something about this episode: it is notoriously known as being one of the worst SpongeBob episodes of all time. Frequently criticized for its several musical numbers, meandering plot line, and so on and so forth. When watching this episode, I ultimately had to take into account a neutral perspective when reviewing this episode. Listen, in the past, I feel as though something I’ve done wrong is expecting an episode to be good or bad before viewing, and ultimately I feel that might make my reviews of said episodes a bit more biased. “Atlantis SquarePantis” is an episode I haven’t seen in ages, and really, I couldn’t really trust past judgement of the episode from myself. I am aware that this episode is widely considered to be bad, yes, but ultimately, I have had a few unpopular opinions in the past; might review “Stanley S. SquarePants” in the near future as an example. But nonetheless, let’s discuss my opinions on “Atlantis SquarePantis.”

SUMMARY:

While I did go into this episode with a neutral perspective, the honest truth is simply... yeah, it isn’t very good. I could just end the review there, but listen, is that really what you want to see out of a one-hundredth review? Nah. However, before I go on and give actual opinions, let’s get all the little nitpicks that people blow up way too much out of the way.

“This episode is a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory ripoff!” Listen, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is one of those stock plots that so many cartoons rely on from time to time. This episode is no less a rip-off of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory than say, “Squidtastic Voyage” is to Fantastic Voyage. I might take off a few points for using a stock-plot for the show’s first TV movie, but frankly trying to consider it a rip-off is a pretty lame argument about this episode.

“Why doesn’t David Bowie get a musical number?” Listen, I’m gonna get it out of the way: David Bowie was a pretty terrible person, if my memory serves right. However, once again, while I will take points off for hiring a famous musician in a musical episode and not having him sing, it’s frankly the least of my concerns. When watching this episode, really I wasn’t wondering so much “When will LRH get a musical number?” because the musical numbers aren’t really what I’m watching this episode for. Of course, musical numbers can help episodes go from being good to great, like “Band Geeks” and the recent “Mimic Madness,” but as a whole, they aren’t anything that concerns me much in an episode.

And while there are far too many songs, I mostly had a neutral opinion on them. They’re nothing I’d seek down and listen to, but it wasn’t like “Oh dear Neptune just let it end” whenever I heard one. They’re pretty middle-of-the-road SpongeBob songs that ultimately don’t really bother me all that much.

While all those things are kinda bad, they ultimately don’t contribute much to my overall opinion of the episode. If there’s really a big issue I have with this episode, it’s how little really happens for the time it’s worth. Many of the issues this episode has can be seen in my reviews for an episode like “The Cent of Money” or “The Clash of Triton.” However, I do feel “Atlantis SquarePantis” is a little above those episodes.

For reference, in “Atlantis SquarePantis,” SpongeBob and Patrick are enjoying a nice day blowing bubbles, when they are disappointed with how briefly they last. SpongeBob decides to attempt blowing a long-lasting bubble, but it ends up carrying him and Patrick to a cave, where they find half of the Amulet of Atlantis. They go to the museum, where they find Squidward, Mr. Krabs, and Sandy, who all talk about their dreams in the lost city. Seeing the lost half of the Amulet of Atlantis, they manage to re-join it, and fly through a song-filled bus to the lost city, where everyone gets lost in their desires. SpongeBob and Patrick find the oldest-living bubble and get freaked out when they accidentally pop it, but ultimately it doesn’t mean much because it’s not even the real bubble; but then they do pop the real bubble and kinda piss off the Atlantian guards, and Plankton has a kinda shoehorned in plot about getting Atlantian weapons for unknown purposes. They fly home, missing Atlantis, and yadda-yadda. This plot would be fine for an episode anywhere between eleven and twenty minutes; probably working best as one of those half-specials, along the lines of “Back to the Past” and “Shanghaied.” And ultimately, that’s really the episode’s biggest fault: it just feels... padded out. It feels like an episode that was intended to be much shorter, but was extended just so the show could have a TV movie or get higher ratings or something.

Patchy also gets a subplot that’s equally as uninteresting. Patchy gets stuck in traffic waiting for the new SpongeBob, but ends up realizing his home town of Encino, California has disappeared somehow. Patchy gets stranded in the desert, looking for Encino, only to have weird hallucinations, feed a sandwich to a vulture, and eventually discover the town was shrunken by Space Aliens. Part of me wants to give the highlight of the episode to the weird live-action SpongeBob costumes, but it’s more funny in a “what-the-heck” kind of way than in an actually, legitimately funny way.

What puts “Atlantis SquarePantis” above other similarly boring episodes is that while, yes, the plot is pretty meandering and pointless, it at least enjoys a bit of fun with the medium. A few different animation styles appear in this episode, and while the one in Mr. Krabs’s song feels kinda cheap, and the one in Squidward’s doesn’t make nearly the use of the different paintings it should, it still is a nice change of pace for the series. I actually do really like the art style in Sandy’s song, which kind of takes an ol’ 16-bit SNES look to it, with some surprisingly fluid animation. Might just be personal tastes, though.

The biggest issue with the episode is that it really goes nowhere. Everything ultimately just leads to another anticlimax, but not even really a funny one. So SpongeBob and Patrick popped the bubble, but surprise it wasn’t the real one. Plankton gets advanced weaponry but nope it just fires ice cream. Ultimately, each time it feels a conflict is about to build up, it just kinda ends with some dull anticlimax. An episode with low stakes can occasionally work on, perhaps, an eleven minute-or-shorter level, like “Patrick! The Game.” However, when aiming to create a TV movie, ultimately, having an episode with as little climax as this one ultimately just feels boring. I do not recommend “Atlantis SquarePantis,” no, but admittedly, I don’t really feel that that mad at it. It feels like just a generic kinda dull SpongeBob episode with a lot of padding. None of the padding is really grating or obnoxious, just dull. “Atlantis SquarePantis” is an episode that I can’t really think of much reason to hate with all my heart. Yeah, it’s bad, and pretty dang bad at that, but it doesn’t give much reason for seething hatred. Once it’s over, it’s over, and well, there’s nothing you’re really feeling aside from “did I really just spend forty minutes on that?”

RECAP:

THE GOOD:

“Atlantis SquarePantis’s” biggest strength is that it does manage to have some interesting formats that wouldn’t be shown in your average episode. It’s one of the few things that could make this episode feel “special” when compared to others.

I’ll hand this episode that it did get a handful of laughs out of me, particularly the “I Hate Mondays” gag, but nothing too fantastic.

THE BAD:

The songs, while nothing abominable, are pretty forgettable, and definitely have those rhymes which just feel... forced. You know, the melons with edible rinds, the looking great on the side of a van, etc.

The plot really just meanders a lot. For a 40-minute long episode, it ultimately did nothing that a 22 or even 11-minute long episode couldn’t cover.

Plankton’s side-plot is entirely unnecessary.

This episode hardly has any climax. There’s a kinda neat fight sequence with Sandy and the Atlantians, but it’s so brief that in the grand scheme of things, it may as well be just a little more filler, since even it hardly leads anywhere in the end.

VERDICT:

I’m sorry to say, but this one-hundredth review is probably going to be as anti-climactic as the episode it is for. I was expecting something I could tear to shreds, or really just despise with every inch of my being, but ultimately... I couldn’t think of too much to say. There are many small things that are wrong here, but none of them are really wrong enough to fill my heart with rage or anything of that sort. It’s just dull, and forgettable. Really, the only question I should be asking is why watch this when there are multitudes of eleven minute episodes that tell better stories with more humor? Throw together “Married to Money,” “Life Insurance,” “Kracked Krabs,” and “Krusty Krushers” and you’d probably have a more worth-while forty minutes than watching this episode. Really, this is one that is difficult to give a final score to. It’s bad? Yeah. And frankly, it doesn’t really have major redeeming qualities. Ultimately, though I just can’t gather up the anger to rate it anything lower than...

FINAL SCORE: 3/10

Worse than the average 3/10 episode, but ultimately, it was just another boring, inoffensive episode of SpongeBob. A 3/10 is what I’d rate another episode of that sort, and TV movies aren’t held to any other standards. I’d definitely avoid this episode, it hardly does anything in the forty minutes it lasts, but that “hardly anything” can be said for both the good and bad.

THE SIDE-NOTES:

While it did get the same score as “What Ever Happened to SpongeBob?,” how it got the score was in a very different way. While “What Ever Happened to SpongeBob?” had a somewhat compelling story, the humor was lacking, and the episode just felt a tad too depressing to really enjoy. “Atlantis SquarePantis” achieves the score on sheer account of just doing nothing that I can really appreciate, while having nothing loathesome to really rant against.

I guess this still lines up with my “every ten episodes review something infamous” rule.

Time to count down to my review of The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie! Only 100 more reviews to go!

So Atlantis has outgrown the needs for currency and warfare? Heck, they just need to ditch the monarchy and I’d be packing my bags and heading straight for that town.

Just getting back to reviewing run-of-the-mill episodes will feel so weird now. It’s like, “Hey! Here’s a review of a TV movie! And now here’s a review of uh... ‘Wishing You Well.’”

Yeah I’m gonna review “Wishing You Well” next. I got a request for it a couple months back so... yeah let’s do that.

<<PREVIOUS REVIEW: MARRIED TO MONEY NEXT REVIEW: WISHING YOU WELL>>

#spongebob #spongebob squarepants #season 5 #final score: 3/10 #atlantis squarepantis

[xlmurchison]

The things I love about my job.

So when I was younger I really wanted to be a zookeeper, when I was 16 I wanted to be a Police Officer, when I was 17 I wanted to be a photographer. I never did make an attempt at the zoo keeper, however the Police Officer and Photographer has nearly been possible on a few occasions. I did not, ever, imagine I’d be where I am now.

So I guess I’ll start with a brief history, I’ve always been a talker.. pretty much since I was tiny, I taught my brother who’s a year older than me to talk. I guess I’m just one of those people, a gift that’s always served me well in terms of employment. I was 13 when I started working in my Dad’s fruit and veg shop, 16 when I got my first real job, an experience that gave me a lot of life lessons, from then I did sales assistant roles until I entered the shark thank that is sales. Sales is where I excelled, in my first month I sold over a hundred grands worth of beds, went over my KPI’s by 80% and made some serious commission. After a manic peak season selling over 300 grand in a month I started to question if I really needed to fund some arse hole “regional manager” or “sales directors” love for expensive cars and aftershave. The “assistant manager” in my store was unbearable in terms of his overall attitude and I’d given up. On a whim one night I ask my husbands opinion on my applying for a bathroom designers job, he chucked but said I’d probably do really well at it (once I learned to use a tape measure) So I applied.

The week before I hit breaking point at work I received an email giving me the opportunity of an interview, so I took a leap of faith and went. 

First impressions count, I’m not sure if it was the nature in which he said “okay let me get this straight before we go any further, there is only one boss here and it’s me” or the “we don’t wear a uniform” that sort of sold this little shop to me or what, but I loved the idea of hard earned money going to dancing lessons, or someones family holiday. I loved the idea of actually knowing my boss and being able to make a difference. For me though the interview didn't go well, so my ideas we’re pretty much dashed before I started. Apparently though I have confidence in my lack of knowledge and in some weird twist of fate I got the job. Me, Lauren who couldn't use a tape and had no sense of colour, measurements or colour schemes, just landed a job as a bathroom designer. Thank God he didn’t expect much, because in my opinion for a while he didn’t get much. 

For me, there is something about competition that gets my adrenaline going. Healthy competition that is, not the gouge your eyes out stuff. And after I spotted an opportunity to make my mark in said little shop, I kind of started getting good at combining my clear sales skills and my absolute lack of bathroom knowledge. Little by little I got there.

So what did I learn? 

Firstly, knowing your boss is so much nicer than working for a corporate big wig. Him knowing you has some down points in terms of him realising if you can’t be arsed, or if your in a bad mood. It also sometimes, has its pitfalls in the fact that they get to know your personality, I’m difficult at best, stubborn, sometimes under enthused and often very impatient. The worst, I'm very emotional. So less than 2 months in when my Dad nearly died from a massive brain tumour, he saw me cry. Awful because I look as terrible, if not worse as Kim Kardashian when I cry.. Awful because sales people suck it up, leave it at the door and use their frustration on trying to get jobs. Work was quiet though and I often had lots of time to think. 

Over that period of time, a few weeks maybe but it felt like months. I noticed my happy go lucky, irritatingly smiley boss turn into someone you just couldn't really be around. He was more lacking in motivation than I was, he often came to work and seemed more interested in well.. not very much and his moods were sometimes really unpredictable. But I liked the guy and I felt at that point I owed him something back, so I started looking around the showroom for things that needed help, without going into too much detail about 3 year old mereway displays and tiles that needed grouting I realised the first thing that needed help, was him. I was clueless, but I felt like that the missing thing in the place was energy, enthusiasm and a sense of life. So I thought of ways to help. Silly but after a while his irritatingly happy self came back, and things started changing, the shop is now evolving and I’m really proud. Some people hate where they work, some people grin and bare it. I however, genuinely love it, I love that its a legacy, that one day his children will drive past and know their Dad left a stamp on that place, That he gave me the chance to take my daughter to dance lessons and on holidays, and most of all it gives me internal happiness I never knew existed. 

Aside from teething problems, teething problems that probably seem horrendous if you knew what they were, There hasn't been a day yet where I’ve gone “this job isn't what I’d hoped for” Its not been the happiest place to work at times, but I’ve realised lately your just as well creating your own happiness. Theres all these accusatory rumours going round about my boss and I, silly people who need to give it a rest but anyway, the thing is, I’ve been fighting every day for my place in the world, and the only place I haven’t is where I work, it isn't just a building for me, he isn't just a boss. He’s believed in my capabilities all along, he’s known when I’ve nearly given up and pushed me on to really great things. Sometimes its like I’ve known him my whole life, sometimes its 5 minutes, sometimes I have to remind myself he’s my boss and not my best friend, it’s still early days yet really, In two days i’ll have been there 8 months, however 8 months seems like years because I’ve started to realise my worth there, It counts for more than I’ve realised. If it didn’t he’d of shoved my arse out months ago. 

You see, I'm not a zoo keeper, or a police officer, or a photographer. I’m not a beauty queen, a princess or a superhero. I’m a role model to my daughter, I co-finance our home and I’m a right handed “man” to someone who genuinely appreciates my help. I see the potential for that little shop every day, and I’m part of the fight to keep it going. I see it as the individual unsung piece of Carlisle it should be recognised as. I see the every day as either a lesson or a blessing. It’s great to know your part of something that potentially could grow, and change peoples lives. Its indescribable the feeling of wanting to do more and more. And the experiences I’ve had are worth more than the salary (salary helps though) Not to mention, having a boss you can probably trust with your life beats anything. I class myself as a very lucky person being able to say I achieved a dream I would have never known I needed. As a child I didn’t know I’d need to be a bathroom designer, a year ago I didn’t know I needed to be a bathroom designer. I know now, I’d of never found happiness in work until I became a bathroom designer. Life finds strange ways of giving you what you need, I believe I’m a better person for sending the email accepting the job offer. And I can’t wait to see what the future hold. 

“Choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life again”