having some thoughts

I want block b on that show where they take care of babies. I can imagine kyung and kwon being the sweethearts. Pyo gonna be the most affectionate and prob the one the kids like the most. Hyo is gonna be the one who actually knows what he’s doing. Jiho and taeil gonna put on their swaggy cute bs they always do and hyuk is just running around trying to take pics of him with the babies for ig.

My husband is the best man ever. He is generous and so good to me and everyone around him bless. 

Only flaw is that he is spoils me so much that I get lazy and don’t push myself enough. Whoops.

He is my great big cuddly bearded viking and I love him. <3

i know it’s kind of a meme in the fandom that viktor thought making A SCENE and greeting yuuri naked in japan but i think that was completely unintentional? which makes it even funnier imo?

allow me to explain

i don’t know exactly how long after yuuri’s video went viral that this scene happens, but it’s safe to say that at least a couple of days passed? perhaps a week or a bit more, even though the anime makes it look like it’s on the next day?

so he’s been avoiding the media for days, keeping his phone off so absolutely nobody’s going to be able to reach him until people forget about this madness 

which means he’s also entirely clueless about the rumors of viktor being his coach

and it makes it so much funnier because we know yuuri’s dad doesn’t know jack shit about figure skating, and viktor doesn’t know how to speak japanese AND IT WAS PROBABLY TOSHIYA WHO FIRST TALKED TO VIKTOR WHEN HE ARRIVED AT YU-TOPIA?

TOSHIYA IF YOU’D ONLY GET INTO YOUR SON’S ROOM, LOOKED AROUND AND DID THE MATH YOU WOULD KNOW

so what has happened was probably something like “i have no idea what you’re saying mr. foreign-dude but you’re probably here for our famous onsen so yes make yourself comfortable” which viktor, tired as fuck from his travel (a long ass flight from st. petersburg to tokyo, probably? plus the train from tokyo to hasetsu?) GLADLY ACCEPTS

hell yeah i’m going to enjoy the fuck out of his hot spring

since yuuri is nowhere to be seen why not take some time to relax after a long travel, am i right

it’s not like viktor would understand if yuuri’s parents were to say “oh yes yuuri is holed up in his bedroom but he’ll come out eventually” so as viktor is pretty sure he found the right place and that yuuri is there he’ll just wait and have a nice soak meanwhile

AND THEN YUURI JUST BARGES INTO THE ROOM WHERE VIKTOR IS BATHING

well, this was not how i had planned this to go but here you are?

AND OF COURSE, STANDING UP WAS COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY BUT VIKTOR BASICALLY INVENTED BEING EXTRA AND… LET ME SHOW YOU MY HOT BOD BECAUSE I GOT TO SEE YOUR ALMOST-EVERYTHING AT THE BANQUET SO I THINK IT’S FAIR YOU GET TO SEE ME NOW AM I RIGHT??? 

in viktor’s mind, yuuri is this extroverted, outgoing party animal he got to know at the banquet and was absolutely mesmerized by, so he probably thinks yuuri’s going to be alright with this extra introduction? also knowing yuuri lives and probably worked at the onsen for a while viktor maybe just assumes he’s probably unfazed by nudity?

oh viktor, little did you know

it just gets funnier the more you look into it

I really do believe that at least part of the problem of people distrusting science has to do with how we as scientists portray ourselves.

We have actively created a system where we derive authority from being seen as better/smarter/more competent than everyone else and then when people ask why they should trust us we respond with a very condescending version of ‘because SCIENCE IS FACT’ or something along those lines.

Like, consider how that would feel from the outside? Here are a small group of people who you have never met/interacted with who sequester themselves in impenetrable ~elite institutions that you can’t access and don’t feel party to who then tell you that what they say is fact because they’re smarter and better educated than you. And if you ever try to question them (no matter how reasonable your objections may be/seem to you) they condescendingly pat you on the head and say something like ‘don’t worry we know better. you can’t possibly understand what we do.’

Why the hell would you trust them? 

No one likes being told that they’re not smart enough to understand something, and no one likes feeling excluded from something they’ve essentially been asked to accept sight unseen. 

I don’t really have a solution to this, except some vague notion about working harder to portray scientists as people working a job, rather than geniuses who are above it all. 

And like trying harder to understand where people are coming from when they question science. And remembering that being better educated than most doesn’t make us smarter than most. It just makes us better trained in certain types of thinking.

I just think we need to keep in mind what we are asking of people. Which is to put a whole hell of a lot of faith in us.

5

Okay back to happier (?) topics - today’s prompts were firsts/future/tears !!!! and honestly that’s probably a happy set why did I go for this even we might just never know

Shiro/Lance interactions I’d like to see in future seasons:
  • Shiro laughing at one of Lance’s bad jokes/pick-up lines before he can catch himself (preferably while Keith is present, so he can shoot him a “I’m so disappointed in you” look ;p).
  • Shiro telling Lance a corny joke of his own, completely deadpan. Lance just stares at him for a moment before going, “Did you just make a joke?” and positively beaming.
  • Lance calling Shiro out on his tendency to internalize his pain and isolate himself rather than talking about it – “Just because you’re our leader doesn’t mean you don’t need help sometimes.”
  • Shiro realizing that Lance recognized this tendency bc he deals with his negative emotions in a similar fashion (seriously, this is one of the biggest things they have in common imo – we see it with Lance when he runs off to cry alone after getting homesick, and with Shiro when he waits for everyone to leave before letting out his frustration at Sendak).
  • Shiro and Lance bonding over the fact they were both international (or first-gen?) members of the Galaxy Garrison.
  • A scene where Lance tells Shiro he’s his hero.
  • Shiro getting to see more of Lance’s serious side.
  • Shiro accidentally revealing his dorky/less serious side one day and Lance being absolutely delighted (totes inspired by Josh Keaton saying Shiro likes memes but would never tell Lance).
  • Like just imagine Shiro delivering a very poignant speech before a battle one day, and when it cuts to everyone else’s faces they’re all smiling softly, looking inspired….except for Lance, who’s grinning like his birthday just came early. “Dude did you just quote [Generic Cheesy Sci-Fi Action Film]?! My favorite movie of all time?!”
  • More of these fond looks from Shiro when Lance is goofing around:
The Kissing Booth

A SnowBaz fanfiction


Simon

Once a year, usually in the spring, Watford stages a carnival for the students.  It’s usually quite humble, mainly consisting of booths selling small magic trinkets, or snacks like cotton candy, sweets and other classic carnival fare.  There’s always the tiny petting zoo over near the Cloisters, and some years Watford even scrapes enough together to bring in a carousel.  Most of the booths are run by student volunteers, and though everything is by donation, all proceeds go to whichever charity the student body has voted on.

           I go every year, mostly for the caramel apples and sweet cider, but this is the first year I’ve been behind the scenes of the carnival and helped at a booth.

           In truth, I didn’t even sign up for it, but Agatha hadn’t had a break all day and needed some cotton candy of her own.

           I should have told her to find Penny, or Trixie or even Minty.  Anyone but me.

           It doesn’t take long for the word to spread that Simon Snow has taken over the Kissing Booth, and mortifyingly the line has doubled in length.  Mostly first or second-year girls, blushing and stammering or swaggering up to the counter with a pronounced sway in their step, with the odd boy interspersed through the line.

           It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me – that honour goes to the time in second year that Baz stumbled upon a spell that made my clothes slowly dissipate, garment by garment, in the middle of the dining hall – and after the first two or three quick, cold kisses I start to calm down, but I’m counting the minutes until Agatha comes back.  How she endured hours of this, I cannot comprehend.  That’s just Agatha, I guess.

           A redhead drops her donation into the tin and her eyes flit around, meeting me for only a split second at a time, her cheeks aflame.  I try to look as non-threatening as I can and lean forward enough that she can close the rest of the space.  She darts in with a kiss that’s no more than a peck before running over to a giggling pair of who must be her friends, a triumphant grin on her face. She must have been dared.  Poor girl.  I hope I wasn’t her first.

           “Well, well, well.”

           My stomach lurches at the cold drawl I know only too well.

           “What are you doing here, Baz?” I say in as civilized a tone as I can manage.

           He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth in a twist that’s a bit too amused to be a sneer.  “When I heard that the Chosen One had taken over the Snogging Booth, I simply had to see it for myself.”

           “Well, now you’ve seen it, so now you can go.”

           “Saving the World of Mages one kiss at a time,” Baz murmurs with a chuckle.  “Not exactly what I was envisioning.”

           “I’m only covering for Agatha,” I retort, “she’ll be back in five minutes if you’re wanting her services.”

           He scoffs.  “I’d rather not snog your girlfriend, thank you very much.”

           “She’s not my – forget it,” I shake my head.  I’ve told him at least a dozen times, but it never stops him.

           “She must have been really desperate for a break to put you in charge,” Baz drawls on, his voice smooth like honey but with too much of a bite to be sweet.  “You’d think she’d at least pick someone attractive for the Kissing Booth.”

           It stings, but I don’t flinch.  “What, someone like you?” I spit back too fast.

           His eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise as I realize my mistake.  “You flatter me, Snow,” he purrs, and I feel my cheeks heat up, but I furrow my brow tighter and hope it passes for anger.

           “Is there a reason you’re still here?” I growl as the burning spreads from my cheeks to my ears.  

           “As a matter of fact, there is,” Baz says, and his gray eyes look cool enough to staunch the flames at the tips of my ears, but the more I glare into them the more the fire rages.  “I’m here to torment you.”

           “Great, well you’ve done that.”

           “I wanted to see what you’d do.”  He leans on the edge of the counter, bringing his face far too close to mine for comfort. “What would the Mage’s Heir do if his nemesis showed up at the Kissing Booth?”

           “You can torment me any time,” I shoot back, “you’re holding up the line.”

           “Oh, yes, well,” he feigns conern, “I wouldn’t want to keep anyone from their kiss.”

           “Then go away.”

           His eyes narrow and he pretends to think.  “Mmm, no.  I don’t think so.”

           “Baz, I’m warning you.”

           “Terrifying,” he drones, “but this is too much fun.  Besides,” his eyebrow flickers up, “don’t you owe me a kiss?”

           I flash him a smirk of my own.  “Aw, Baz. If you were so desperate for a kiss, you could’ve just asked.”

           Baz, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye.  “You think of that comeback yourself?”

           “There’s a fee, you know,” I ignore him, barely having to raise my voice above a murmur for him to hear me, he’s so close.  “You haven’t paid the fee, so I don’t owe you anything.”

           He doesn’t drop his eyes from mine, and the cool gray takes on the spark of a challenge.  Out of my periphery I see him reach into his pocket, and there’s the clatter of coins dropping into the tin.

           I should punch him.

           I should spit in his face.

           I wanted to see what you’d do.

           I take him by the lapels and crush his mouth under mine.

           He makes a muffled sound of shock.  To be fair, so do I, but mine is more angry than it is surprised.  I kiss him hard and rough, and it’s a bit of a juxtaposition because his mouth is oddly soft.  A face like his, you’d expect his lips to be made of marble, cold and unmoving, but he’s the farthest thing from unmoving.  I can’t tell if he’s struggling or if he’s kissing me back but his lips are so, so soft and I want to bruise them, mark them, bite them…

           I only stop when a series of wolf whistles reminds me that there are at least ten people watching us.

           Trying to salvage the illusion of control, I break away harshly, still gripping him by his collar.  The cocky smirk has dropped from his smooth features and now his face mirrors mine, a matching scowl, like I’ve crossed a dangerous line.  I probably have.

           “Was that what you wanted?” I growl.

           He doesn’t answer, just holds my gaze another few seconds before pushing back from the table, his lapels slipping out of my hands, and stalking away.

*** 

I don’t see Baz at the carnival after that, and I stay as long as the booths are open, perusing the same counters and feigning interest even after having looked through their contents three times.  I keep Penny company where she mans the popcorn booth, drizzling caramel over every few cartons, and I even get bored enough to hang around Agatha back at the Kissing Booth for a little while, until one too many patrons have asked if I’m available for service.  When she and Penny are freed we pet the goats at the petting zoo, the ones that Ebb has graciously volunteered for the event, and take a few spins on the carousel.  Only once the light has begun to fade and the signs are being lowered from their booths do the three of us part ways.  Even then, I offer to help Ebb get her goats back safely.

           Basically, I’m doing anything I can to put off going back to the room, but eventually I can’t avoid it any longer.  I’ve wandered the grounds enough times that the sun has properly disappeared behind the distant hills and I can barely see the ground in front of me. Even then I’m tempted to consider crazy alternatives like spending the night at Ebb’s place, but I’m pretty sure that would be against school rules anyway, and besides, I’ll have to face Baz eventually.  There’s no undoing what’s happened.

           When I finally trudge back into the room, he’s staring out the window at the moat, presumably trying to intimidate the merwolves, but he turns at the sound of the door.  His expression, though I don’t see it for long before I look away, is hard to read. Wide eyes and a furrowed brow, like he’s still mad at me for my stunt earlier, but there’s a bit of a questioning edge there, too.  Almost a where were you edge.

           Normally I have to start any type of conversation, but tonight he wastes no time. “What the hell was that, Snow?”

           There’s no question as to what he’s referring, and I can’t help but get angry again.  “Me? You’re the one who had to start something!”

           “Well, you didn’t have to react so drastically,” he mutters, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall by the window, the moonlight casting its glow on his skin and making him even paler than usual, almost transparent.  I half expect fangs to slide out from his lips for no reason and complete the picture.

           His soft, soft lips.

           “You were egging me on,” I seethe, the memory igniting the rage that I’d felt in the fractured moment before kissing him, “it’s your fault anything happened.”

           “Proud little hero,” Baz says with the slightest smirk, “can’t back down from a challenge.”

           “You know I can’t, not in front of people.”

           “Wouldn’t want them to think the Heir is a coward.”

           I feel like a balloon in me is swelling and deflating at once.  “But that’s just it, Baz,” I insist, anger momentarily aside.  “If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?”

           He doesn’t answer right away, and for a second I think maybe he understands. I want so badly for him to understand.

           “No reason,” Baz eventually says, turning to look out the window again, “not with someone like you as the Chosen One.”

           I want to groan, to kick something, to shake him by the shoulders and make him look me in the eye and for once not fight me.  Have we ever in our lives made eye contact without there being some challenge between us?

           “Why did you have to get in that line?” I shake my head.  “There are so many other ways of tormenting me, lower-stakes ways.”

           “To be fair, I’ve already exhausted most of those,” Baz murmurs with a little shrug of his shoulders.

           “When have you ever been fair?”

           “Touché.”

           I’m tired of standing here at the door, so I kick off my shoes and sit down on my bed, trying not to think about how much closer I am to him now, still at the window, looking as vampiric as ever.  His gray eyes are positively silver in the moonlight, and the black of his hair looks silkier than ever, as if it’s soaking the rays directly into him. He almost glows.  I have to laugh a little, because more than once Baz has mockingly compared me, with my bronze curls and sky-blue eyes, to the sun, but he himself wears a halo of night.  If I am the sun, then Baz is most certainly the moon.  Distant, cold, mysterious, almost too pristine to touch.

           His gaze returns to me suddenly.  He raises an eyebrow in a wordless inquiry, and I realize I’ve been staring.

           “What exactly was it you expected me to do?”

           “At what point, Snow?” he gives a humourless laugh.  “You had more than one opportunity to react.”

           “When you paid the fee.”

           His tiny smile disappears.  “It doesn’t matter.”

           “It does.”

           “Drop it, Snow,” he says, the hardness returning to his eyes, and I know I’ve cornered him.  Drop it is Baz’s way of betraying himself, of saying there’s something that he doesn’t want to tell.

           “Was I supposed to kiss you?” I ask.  For some reason I have to know.

           “No.”

           “Then what?”

           “I don’t know, Snow, punch me.  Push me. Beat me to the ground.  Something.”

           My brow furrows in confusion.  “Wait. You wanted me to hit you?”

           He shrugs, more with his head than his shoulder.  “One of us has to get hurt, right?”

           I rise to my feet, and I’m face-to-face with him again, only his eyes are different this time.  Whereas at the booth he had betrayed no hint of doubt at our closeness, now there’s a flicker of something in the silver, something that feels a lot like the way my heart is racing in my chest, and it dawns on me.  He was putting on a show at the carnival, acting like nothing I could do would get to him, just as I had been.

           If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?

           One of us has to get hurt, right?

           And suddenly it makes sense.

           There’s only a few inches between us, so it feels almost natural when I lean in and press the gentlest of kisses to his lips.

           He doesn’t kiss me back this time, but he doesn’t move away either.  “What was that for?” he asks when I draw back a second later.

           “You act like we’re so different,” I say wonderingly, “but we’re the same.”

           “How?”

           “What do you think we’d be if we didn’t have to fight each other?”

           I don’t miss the split second of longing in his eyes.  “Keep dreaming, Snow.”

           “Because I bet it would involve a lot more of this.”  I bring a hand up to his neck, my fingers instantly lost in the wavy tips of his hair and it’s exactly as soft as it looks bathed in moonlight.

           Baz closes his eyes like he has to collect himself.  “You’re the hero.  I’m the villain.  What more do I have to say?”

           “Fuck that,” I chuckle, “we both know that’s not true.  You’re a boy, and I’m a boy.  That’s all.”

           “Tell that to the rest of the world.”

           “I don’t care about the rest of the world,” I shake my head adamantly, “I want to know what you think.”    

           “About what?”

           “If there was no act, no reputation, no role to play,” I murmur, “if we were just two boys, what would you do?”

           Baz returns my gaze a moment, searching my eyes.    

           Then his lashes close and he’s kissing me, and my eyes drift shut again like I’m sighing in relief.

           I let my fingers tangle higher up in his hair while my other hand grips the front of his shirt like earlier, only without the anger of the afternoon.  He angles his head further and guides the kiss deeper, his hands gently gripping my waist and pulling me closer.  I melt against him, my mouth moving with his, my head swimming with his citrusy scent, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my throat when he takes my bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle tug. Suddenly I’m floating, weightless, and Baz gives a muffled sound of surprise when I press back a little harder.

           When we finally break apart, both of us gasping and dizzy, I immediately want more, want to line his neck with my mouth, want to feel his breath hitch when I reach the base of his throat, want to hear my name in his sigh.  Would he sigh Snow or Simon?  I want to know.

           “Please,” I whisper, dotting a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “can’t we just be two boys?”

           When I meet his eyes, they’re full of more longing than ever.

           In response, he kisses a soft, slow triangle pattern on my cheek, and I recognize the pattern of the three moles by my eye, and I can’t help but smile.

“We can try.”

For people struggling to understand what this all means, it just means that Harry’s management company, Full Stop Management, is merging with Irving Azoff’s (a known powerhouse manager in the music industry) company.

Basically, this means that Full Stop just got some real power behind it, in the form of a father aligning with his son.

Larries have been predicting for a LONG ass time that Irving would play a role in a managerial transition for the boys. Right now we have solid confirmation of that for at least Harry. Most of us believe that when One Direction comes back, they will do so under the guidance of Irving and Jeff Azoff.

Just a short sum up, if anyone needs it! ♥️

also, rose wasn’t in the trailer at all, and they’ve been a) making a big deal about how she’s a big new role, and b) saying that her storyline and finn’s will be connected in the film.

which leads me to hope that the lack of rose- and the vagueness of finn’s appearance in the trailer- means that his/their storyline is integral to the plot and would give away too much.

everyone knows that rey was going to train with luke. it was safe for them to show us that. but finn’s storyline? it was left very much an open book at the end of tfa. they aren’t showing us much of him because to do so would be showing us too much before the film comes out. the same goes for kylo, poe, and leia. this trailer really didn’t give us much to work with besides some insight into luke and rey and their relationship with each other. and even that was vague.

so i’m cautiously optimistic about this trailer. it leaves a lot for us to think about and wonder, and doesn’t necessarily mean finn’s role in the story won’t be significant simply because he (like most of the characters in the trailer) didn’t get more than one short scene.

MLM Books by Male Authors

This isn’t a very long list; these are just the ones on my to-read list. Also, there are some works from the included authors that I have not listed because I haven’t looked too closely into their other books, or they aren’t up my alley genre-wise. If you don’t mind female authors or authors of any other genders, feel free to check out this list.

If you have more to add, feel COMPLETELY free to reblog and do so. 

  1. Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz
  2. Ash and Echoes; Ice and Embers; Iron and Ether; Cairn and Covenant; Calling and Cull; Wine and Roses (I don’t know exactly where this one fits in or if it does) by August Li
  3. At Swim, Two Boys by Jamie O’Neill
  4. The Beauty’s Brother by Leon Hart (read; ☆☆☆)
  5. Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman
  6. Captured Shadows by Richard Rider
  7. The Cat in the Cradle; From Darkness to Darkness by Jay Bell
  8. The Chosen; The Standing Dead; The Third God by Ricardo Pinto
  9. Dangerous Moonlight by Mel Keegan
  10. The Devil in the Dust; Tower of the King’s Daughter; A Dark Way to Glory (doesn’t say LGBT on Goodreads; unsure if it actually is); Feast of the King’s Shadow (doesn’t say LGBT on Goodreads; unsure if it actually is); Hand of the King’s Evil; The End of All Roads (doesn’t say LGBT on Goodreads; unsure if it actually is) by Chaz Brenchley
  11. Dreamer by Steven Harper
  12. An East Wind Blowing by Mel Keegan
  13. Fortunes of War by Mel Keegan
  14. The God Eaters by Jesse Hajicek (enjoying this one so far; not super far into it)
  15. Haffling by Caleb James
  16. The Lightning-Struck Heart by T.J. Klune
  17. The Lonely War by Alan Chin
  18. Lord Mouse by Mason Thomas
  19. Maurice by E.M. Forster
  20. Mordred, Bastard Son by Douglas Clegg
  21. One Man Guy by Michael Barakiva
  22. A Royal Affair; Aleksey’s Kingdom by John Wiltshire
  23. The Sallee Rovers; Men of Honor; Iron Men; Heart of Oak; Man in the Crescent Moon; The Sea Leopard by M. Kei
  24. Seidman by James Erich
  25. Shadowdance by Robin Wayne Bailey
  26. The Sheltered City by John Tristan
  27. The Steel Remains; The Cold Commands; The Dark Defiles by Richard K. Morgan
  28. The Still; The King by David Feintuch
  29. Thunderbolt: Torn Enemy of Rome by Roger Kean
  30. Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan
  31. Wingmen by Ensan Case
What’s up, it’s Alexei!

When Ngozi posted this picture yesterday of young post-draft Tater “trying his darnedest to answer press questions in English,” I thought, “You know, I could make a play fic out of that.” Which is what led to the following 2700+ words about Tater and his ESL tutor.

Many, many thanks to @ktheunready for being my Russian authenticity consultant and beta!


Georgia Martin stood at the back of the media scrum and watched Alexei Mashkov stumble his way through his post-draft interview, saw the way his fingers kneaded the brim of the brand-new Falconers’ cap he’d been handed for the initial official photos, saw the way his eyes widened and stayed intently glued to whoever was asking him a question, like he was afraid he’d miss some key bit of meaning if he blinked.

She pulled out her phone and made a call.

***

«No, Mama, I promise, my room is very nice. The family is very nice. Everything is very…»

«Let me guess, nice? »

Alexei sighed. «Yes.»

«You know I don’t doubt you, right, Alyosha? I’m not worried you can’t do this. You will be fine. But I know this is your first time to live in another country, with none of the boys from your teams here. It can be… hard, sometimes. I know.»

«Yeah, Mama, I know. You told me.»

«Are you telling me you’ve heard the stories of my youth too many times?» she asked in mock outrage.

«No, no!» he laughed. «Of course not.»

«Good. I should think not.» He could picture her face exactly, and it made him smile. «I’m glad your host family seems nice, Alyosha. I’m sure you will have many friends in no time.»

He flopped back on the bed again and stared at the ceiling. «I hope so.»

«We’ll talk again soon. Love you, son.»

«Love you, too.»

He hung up and let his phone rest on his chest. He’d been to America before. He’d thought he’d known what it would be like, that it wouldn’t be so bad. Different, yes, but there would be so many interesting new things to see, and new teammates, and he certainly knew how to play hockey. What he had failed to take into account, apparently, was how exhausting it was to try to function in English all day. For a US hockey team, the Falconers’ roster was shockingly low on Russian players, so his host family was one of the French Canadian ones. To their credit, they did speak some Russian, but it was hardly enough to have a real conversation. Alexei felt like he’d been practically mute all day.

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Despite all the incredible previews, I’ll admit I was a little wary going into Moo Moo, only because racial profiling is a really heavy topic to cover in ~22 minutes, especially in a comedy. I spent a lot of time thinking about how the conflict between Terry and Holt might play out. My fear was either the episode would slip into “after school special” territory and ultimately present a superficial, overly simplistic depiction of the issue, or veer all the off to the other end and give us a dark, bleak ending devoid of that hope and optimism that makes B99 so special. Nothing against B99 – I’ve just been burned by many a show before, and this is a topic that could be an absolute disaster in the wrong hands. 

But then there’s this? A show that is thoughtful and nuanced while showing us the horrors of racial profiling and the complexities of reporting it, that doesn’t shy away from the fact that we still have a lot of work to do but also allows Terry and Holt to have their own personal victory? That covered a super serious subject, including a conversation where two beautiful young black girls asked questions they should never have to ask, but still allowed for moments of joy and laughter that felt genuine? And that did it all in about twenty minutes, wrapping up on a beautifully bittersweet note that was just the right tone for an episode of this level of importance?

I’m just in awe. And I feel really, really lucky that we have so many incredible people involved with this show who share it with us. 

I think 2D is the type of boyfriend to bring you breakfast in bed but the eggs are overdone and your toast is burnt but he’s got such happy puppy dog eyes because he did this unprompted cute thing for you that you have to eat every bite in front of him to make him feel happy and appreciated