#I gotta draw Elizabeth having fun sometime though

[chloesimaginationthings]

Okay, but Elizabeth being an absolute savage girlboss isn't something that's talked about enough.

Love how you're spitting facts for our girly pop. 💪💪💪

TBH I go off the personality baby has, and gotta assume some of that sass is definitely Elizabeth

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Abridged: 1981 - the Body-Swap

The X-Men, those body-swapping mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. We’ve been untangling that history for a while, but sometimes, you really want a more in-depth look. Interested? Then read the (un)Abridged X-Men!

(Uncanny X-Men 151 - 152) - by Chris Claremont and Josef Rubinstein

Emma Frost and her frenemy Ororo Munroe have not been getting along! One fateful evening, as the two quibble away, they mysteriously switch bodies and minds. Talk about your Freaky Friday! What lessons will they learn, walking a mile in one another’s shoes? And will they be able to switch back, or will they stay in each other’s bodies forever? Mutant Monday, coming soon to a cinema near you. Starring: Elizabeth Banks, Angela Bassett and Elliot Page. (PG-13)

For a moment, we’re in a proper period drama: a letter delivers ill tidings!

I love that Kitty’s parents are so self-involved that it took them A WHOLE YEAR to realize that it’s weird that Kitty is the only non-adult attending the Xavier Institute.

I can only assume the mailman interrupted a pool party of some kind? Or a communal shower? I get why Kurt would not swim a lot - all that fur - but did Scott wear that while they were splashing around? Was it a beach volleyball competition where one half got to wear swimsuits and the other half superhero costumes? Most importantly, was Scott’s costume always this tight?

Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

The awful thing is that Kitty’s parents are transferring her to the Massachusetts Academy, not realizing that headmistress Emma Frost is, in fact, a terrible human being. Charles, uncharacteristically, says that changing their minds telepathically is a line he does not cross (any more) and half the viewing audience bursts out in laughter. More importantly, last they saw Emma, she was kind of dead-by-Phoenix, so it might be better there this time? Kitty does a Classic Teenage Stomp-Off and Storm comes to comfort her. Kitty cries that life is unfair (“My parents are only doing this because they’re splitting up”) and Ororo tells her that yes, life is unfair. You just gotta roll with the punches as best you can.

To be fair, bald men are technically all cheek, so it doesn’t matter where you kiss them.

While I enjoy the relationship Kitty has with the other X-Men (Scott gave her a compliment! Logan told her his name!), especially the mother-daughter-bond she shares with Ororo, the whole Piotr-thing always gives me pause. Even if we’re being very generous with age, Kitty is, what? 14 going on 15? And Piotr is… 19? At best? I get why Kitty would have a crush on him: he’s a gentle hunky giant: at fifteen, my teenage ass would have felt the exact same viz-a-viz Colossus’ upper arms. The fact that Piotr reciprocates feels skeevy, though, especially because they’re always treated like star-crossed idiots these days.

Skee-vy.

Ororo drives Kitty to Massachusetts, where her young ward is greeted by someone named Muffy and whisked away for orientation. All seems well. Ororo stands in a parlour, surveying the grounds and considering that they should have fought harder for Kitty. Still, nothing seems too wrong just yet: this Academy just seems very preppy.

Not-at-all-dead Emma takes her cue and jumps out, saying (essentially): “Surprise motherfucker.”

There’s a flash of light, and then...

I’m willing to bet that Emma’s EVIL journal has the following to-do-list: - Steal Storm’s body. - Experiment with her powers. - See how good Storm looks in white. (Leather? Fur?! Both!??) - REWARD: Smoke break.

I wonder if Emma’s plan hinged on being able to body-swap with Storm, or whether any X-Man would have sufficed. Was her original target Xavier? Cyclops? What if one of Kitty’s parents had brought her to Massachusetts, would she have taken Kitty instead?

In a locked cell, Storm wakes up in Emma’s body and is horrified. I wonder why Emma didn’t take any more precautions. Couldn’t the guy who made the freaky friday-gizmo also make a power dampener to nullify not!Emma’s telepathic abilities? Or did Emma count on her victim being so utterly incapacitated by her mind-powers that they’d be driven mad? (This would actually tie in with some of Emma’s later-revealed history: when her powers first emerged, she also got locked away in a padded room because of her madness.)

Emma is not wrong, by the way: Storm can’t get a handle on Emma’s powers. What follows is possibly the sweetest moment in an arc filled with sweet moments:

This arc isn’t drawn by any of the regulars - not Byrne, not Cockrum - but Josef Rubinstein brings his own kind of panache to the pages. I love the way he draws women’s faces: in a story that’s all about women, their faces are actually distinguishable. Kudoz.

Emma, meanwhile, coordinates with Sebastian Shaw to execute the second part of their two-pronged attack on the X-Men. They both laugh evilly in their phones while the mansion is attacked by Sentinels! These androids take out Cyclops and Xavier with some sleeping gas and knock out Nightcrawler, but the rest of the X-Men manage to trounce these robots. Then ‘Storm’ appears! She zaps the rest of the X-Men (and Amanda Sefton), successfully finishing their master-plan.

It’s not entirely clear what the Hellfire Club wants with the X-Men this time, but I’m assuming it’s more experimentation to improve the sentinels? Eh, doesn’t matter! Nefarious Hellfire Club is nefarious.

The real Storm, meanwhile, comes to claim Kitty, forgetting that she looks like the one and only Emma Frost. Kitty spooks and Storm accidentally reaches out, knocking her out telepathically. Whoops! Storm takes Kitty and flees in a car, while Emma gives chase. (How dare Ororo run off with her body, which is absolutely the kind of hypocritical hilariousness we all love Emma for.)

Kitty awakens and jumps from the car, causing Storm to swerve and...

JETSTREAM!? Speaking of which, where are the Hellions in all of this?

Kitty sees that an unconscious ‘Emma’ is about to burn to a tender and moist little crisp and she is faced with the hero’s dilemma: would you save a villain that would never save you?

Emma, meanwhile, has realized the downside to body-swapping: somebody else gets to run around with your body too. Shaw, of all people, talks her down from her anger.

You can’t just introduce a persona exchange gun to the plot WITHOUT EXPLAINING WHERE THE FUCK YOU GOT IT FROM.

My favorite detail is that Emma keeps calling Kitty brat, like she’s some sort of Pokémon-villain.

Kitty, meanwhile, has saved ‘Emma’ and tied her up with a special knot. Storm tries to convince Kitty, going for the “ask me something only Storm would know”, but Kitty’s all: “Duh, you’re a telepath.” Ororo insists, but the thing that clinches it is when she breaks free of her ties without breaking a sweat. That knot was taught to Kitty by Ororo and she’d be the only one who knew how to break out of it.

Storm and Kitty recruit Stevie Hunter to come pick them up and during the ride, Storm-being-angry-mother!Storm convinces Kitty more than anything else:

After all, Storm was voted most likely to say: “If you don’t stop this nonsense immediately, I will turn this Blackbird around, so help me God!”

Ororo and Kitty sneak inside. Ororo even uses Emma’s telepathy to help her pick a lock after phasing through a door. (Kind of funny: Kitty’s still such a neophyte that she can’t even phase with anyone else yet.) Emma, meanwhile, taunts the captured X-Men, presenting herself as the new white queen:

Anybody feel the inclination to point out that the Hellfire Club did this exact same thing last year, except then they tried it with a redhead?

I secretly suspect that the Hellfire Club’s plots always revolve around seducing X-Men to their side and dressing them up in sexy lingerie. (Which: fair.) There’s also a subplot where the guys Wolverine cut apart last year want to exact revenge on him for being made bionic, but eh. We’ll start paying attention to them when they become actual Reavers.

Kitty phases through the locks of the X-Men, freeing them, and a kerfuffle ensues. Emma starts using Storm’s powers, but they grow out of control. Colossus tosses Shaw out of the window - which should just be company policy, really: all Shaws should be defenestrated - where he’s promptly hit by a rogue thunderbolt.

When he doesn’t get up, Emma starts to lose it. The weather goes wild. Storm intervenes, using her telepathic power to help calm down Emma (and the raging storm), but she also manages to get a hold of the swap-gun. There’s a zap, and with a satisfied sigh, the status-quo is restored again.

My favorite implication is that, apparently, Emma decides which school Kitty attends and not her parents.

While this little arc is neither the most iconic nor the most profound of 1981 -- those would be Days of Future Past and I, Magneto, respectively -- I still love this for a couple of reasons.

As a lover of Freaky Friday, 17 Again and the new Jumanji-film, I just have a soft spot for body swap plots. (Hi Psylocke!)

It focuses on the Xavier Institute as a school, planting seeds for the upcoming New Mutants.

It is very female-driven without beating you over the head with it. (Looking at you, Birds of Prey.)

It has three definitive main characters, who all get fleshed out in fun and interesting ways. It starts the trend of robbing Ororo of some of her powers and tossing her into against-the-odds circumstances, only for her to come out on top.

It solidifies the Storm/Kitty mother/daughter (or older/younger sibling) dynamic. Kitty is a believable teenager when it comes to Storm - clever and kind, but also looking for answers and prone to rash decisions - and I love how much they care for each other.

Jean/Storm-friendship-callback, yay!

Emma gets fleshed out as a villain. Resourceful and petty, powerful and vain. It’s no wonder she’s one of the break-out antagonists of the X-Men, because, like Magneto, Claremont is not afraid of giving her depth. Arguably, she is the most three-dimensional of the Hellfire Club at this point.

Yay! And fuck completely sensible plots, if you don’t know what to do with your plot, just introduce a random persona exchange gun. Let’s use it on Xavier and Legion in Way of X next!

[kingofthewilderwest]

princesstokyomoon replied to your post ... ... ... can we see the list?

kovu was the first crush baby me ever acknowledged i had, so seeing simba on this list is very validating lol

[high fives] Disney made those lions way too hot for their own good. Kovu would probably be on my list if I had watched the second Lion King movie more recently. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it, but I remember being gripped by him when I was younger. So if he magically appears on that list later...... a rewatch happened.

writingstellar replied to your post ... ... ... can we see the list?

-is queer -has a type -that type involves dark hair and eyes ...my dude do you also like them kinda damaged? Because I think we have the same taste lmao

Bruh. Bruh. I wasn’t going to admit it in the tags, but TOTALLY. When they’re damaged is when my heart melts. I relate to their struggles and issues, I yearn to care for them, I feel for them, I love them. [high five on the same taste]

maski1 replied to your post ... ... ... can we see the list?

"Elizabeth Hawkeye" ? I think it was stated her name really is "Riza" ? When I watched ATLA when I was little I didn't like Zuko. Now he's my favorite character XD Gotta watch The Dragon Prince but before, I have to watch TLoK (and before that, read the chapters that were never adaptated). I'm curious, why Aladdin? Linguini is underrated

I started replying to you in the comments of the original post, but you always have such fun conversations, so I had to hop onto here and expand!

1. Regarding how I present the names on my list, I try to give a character’s full name, so long as there is strong evidence-based canon that gives or implies their name. In a few rare cases, like Elizabeth Hawkeye, there are fans who would dispute me on this, but I can give a very good account based deeply in canon for why I have the name listed as it is. If people want to agree or disagree with me at the end of the day, I don’t mind either way.

Regarding Riza... there are two types of scenarios she is called “Elizabeth” in Arakawa’s writing. One scenario is when everyone in Team Mustang is given code names. I imagine zero fans care about that as evidence. Havoc’s code name is Jacqueline, and that obviously isn’t his real name. Riza being called “Elizabeth” on the phone when Roy is disguising his operations by fake flirting doesn’t count for proof by itself. But the other instance is Roy calling her “Elizabeth” to Madame Christmas. I think most fans read that as Roy simply extending the code name for anonymity reasons. However, given Madame Christmas knows a ton about Roy’s emotional investment in Riza, and I’ve encountered some..... translational difficulties that the official English versions have with names... I think the latter’s a good cue.

Riza in older English translations and older merchandise was legitimately named “Liza,” and Liza is a common nickname for Elizabeth (especially for the time period Fullmetal Alchemist is roughly evoking). I talk about the translation weirdness here in much better depth. As you may know yourself, given your own language background, this would not be the first time the English translators made stupid mistakes with FMA names. Viz Media initially gave Xerxes the clusterfuck spelling ‘Cselkcess’ before they realized what the word was supposed to be. Ling Yao’s name has danced between Ling and Lin, despite Arakawa herself putting the Romanized spelling of his name in some drawn panels. I have seen Ranfun, Ranfan, and Lan Fan all within official FMA merchandise. Viz Media couldn’t even get a kid’s name “Kyle” down right in their translations... originally he was called “Khayal,” because at that point in time, they didn’t have a good grasp of the world (and ergo name base) that Arakawa was drawing from. Jean Havoc’s name should have been given a French pronunciation rather than sounding like ‘Gene,’ and if you wanted to Anglicize his name one step further, you could’ve named him John Havoc more accurately than what we got in the anime dubs.

With all that said and done, a character named Liza who is sometimes referred to as “Elizabeth” seems to me a logical enough indication she would have been born as “Elizabeth Hawkeye.” In any other circumstance, if I met someone who was called Liza but at one point got called “Elizabeth” by people who knew her in her past, I would conclude she was named Elizabeth. So yeah. Some people may disagree with my logic, but that’s the short of why I have it. XD

If other people are curious: another character whose name might disputed on my list is Rufus from Deponia. There’s some information in the obscure Deponia roleplaying book that says his father used to be named Landgull. Rufus was offended when his father changed his name from Seagull to Landgull to distance himself from Rufus (ergo, it wasn’t a first name change, which would’ve been irrelevant to disowning your blood relation to someone); Captain Seagull was always referred to by a title which usually goes with a last name; and ergo it’s likely Rufus could’ve grown up as Rufus Landgull. Even though the games never ever ever actually call him that.

2. NOW GOING ONTO THE ZUKO THING. Dude, I feel you. When I watched Season 1 of ATLA, I hated Zuko. By Season 3, I loved him and he was my favorite character. They did a magnificent job not just creating the character and giving him an arc, but allowing his personality to be increasingly revealed to us as audience members.

3. Why Aladdin? As a kid, I was obsessed with Aladdin. Now that I’m older, I still think his cheeky, adventurous, charming, but genuine yearning spirit are appealing. And he has sUCH pReTTy eYeSSS!!! So yeah. 

4. Linguini is VERY underrated. What a dear.

[diabloindigo]

Are you the person to open a box of cereal just to get the toy inside? As a kid yes. Right now, I don’t buy cereals with prizes anymore. Do they even stuff toys in cereal these days? 

Do you get scared easy? If it’s in the anxiety induced variety, yes. 

What was one of the stupidest things you cried over when you were little? Not sure, it could have been anything from not wanting to wear a fancy dress or dress shoes to a party or a broken toy. 

Have you ever drank milk from the carton? Despite having a working dishwasher and plenty of glasses, I “waterfall” milk and juice from the containers. 

Juice or milk? I go both ways, leaning more towards juice. Apple or orange. 

Do you ever turn off your computer properly? Once in a while. 

Do you wish you were a fish? Not really, though I kinda envy the blue Dory (Doctor Fish?) in the tank at my gynecologist’s waiting room. It likes to swim to the bottom of the tank and ride up to the top on a bubble jet. That damn fish has probably had more fun than I have in the past several months. 

Who’s your favorite super hero? Invincible (Amazon Prime). Along with Spider-Man (2002) and the Big Hero 6 movie, that character/series is a rare superhero show that makes me feel strong and vulnerable at the same time. 

Who’s your favorite super villain? Slade Wilson/ Deathstroke as seen in “Teen Titans: The Judas Contract” animated movie and the 2003-2006 “Teen Titans” cartoon series. 

Spiderman or X-men? Spider-Man. Tobey Maguire and Peter B. Parker from Into the Spiderverse. 

Movie theatre or stay at home movie night? Theaters. Alamo Drafthouse. I love ordering boozy milkshakes and finger foods.

Do you have a Blue Ray? I have one of those external drives for my Mac though I never use it. 

How about HD television? Yeah

Do you think HD television is kind of a waste of money? No. 

Do you get why people get so frickin’ freaked out during football season? I do not, and living in a state with a hard-on for (American) football makes it weird when I tell people that I do not have a favorite football team/player. 

Do you ever sneak scraps to the dog even though you’re not suppose to? I don’t sneak him food. If I cook or order too much to eat, then I scrape a couple of cup’s worth of leftovers in his bowl. He’s probably got only a year to live so let him live it up a little. 

Are you reading a book right now? If so what? A friend gave me a copy of “The Only Good Indians” but I can't get into it so I’m reading “Full Throttle” by Joe Hill. 

What was the last book you were required to read for school? It’s been so long I can’t remember. 

O donuts or jelly filled? Whipped cream filled. I love Krispy Kreme’s whipped cream filled donuts with raspberry filled donuts as a close second. 

If I’m feeling bland then I do like crullers. 

Do you like your ice-cream in a bowl or cone? Bowl unless it’s a tasty cone. 

Marshmallows in your hot chocolate or no? I could go either way unless it’s a tiny cup of chocolate. 

Do you like cherry coke? Hell yes. I love going to Sonic for a cherry-vanilla-lime Coke or this greasy little 1950s type burger joint for their cherry cokes since they load the cups with several cherries. 

Do you really think diet Dr. Pepper is the equivalent of a cupcake? No, it tastes artificial. Like a bastard child of a soft drink that wants to pass for cherry soda. 

Do you snore in your sleep? Drool? Talk? Snore and talk (I’m pretty stressed out).

Have you ever sleep walked? no

Are you a morning person? I am now. 

How do you wake up in the mornings? by alarm during the work week, naturally at 6-7 on vacation days. 

Do you think guyliner is hot? What is that? 

Is variety the spice of life? yeah

Do you think strawberry milk is disgusting? I like it. 

Have you ever drank after anyone? Like sharing a cup/bottle? Yeah, loads of times.  

Have you ever drank after anyone you don’t know very well? No. 

Do you have any limits on who you drink/eat after?

If we’re talking about sharing, then I will share food/drink with family and friends. If someone offers me bite-size pieces that are individually wrapped or can be torn off the main portion, I’ll eat it, but only from co-workers or acquaintances. 

Would you eat a sucker if someone already ate some of it? No. 

Would you chew somebody else's gum? Hell no. 

Do you know anyone who’s going to die of mono because of that? No. 

Do you enjoy school? My English and psychology classes. 

Are you a teacher’s pet? no

Do you have a job? Yes. 

How did you get to and from school? Parents drove me or I walked for elementary through high school. I drove when I went to college. 

Do you have a bedtime? And if so what is it? I’m in bed between 11-12 a.m.

What time do you get up? 6 am so I can walk/exercise before the sun boils the earth in full force. 

Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? Yeah in college. 

What’s more important? Beauty or brains? brains

Do you believe in yourself? Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t. 

Did you ever want to be an astronaut when you were little? No. Being a veterinarian or scientist were my highest ambitions as a small kid. 

How about the president? Never. 

What did you want to be when you were little? Veterinarian, scientist, cartoon character. 

Did you ever want to be a super model? no

Do you believe you’re attractive enough to be a super model? No.

Have you ever had an X-ray? Several in the past few months for pre-surgery and dental work.

What’s your favorite guy’s name? What’s your favorite girl’s name? Guys’: Shane, Mark, Tadashi, Austin, Cade, Trip.

Girls’: Quince, Sienna, Amy, Kit, Lizzie (Elizabeth), Raven.

Who’s your second cousin’s, grandparent’s, sister? The fuck...

Do you laugh to yourself whenever the ketchup bottle farts? No, in fact, I get annoyed when other people hear it and ask me if I farted. 

Do you have any real guns in your house? I have several. 

Do you know how to use nunchucks? No, I bought a pair at one of those Asian imports emporiums, but I donated them since I never learned to use them. They were these crappy foam padded ones with dragons printed on the handles. 

Do you know anyone who can use nunchucks? No. 

What do you want to be next Halloween? In better health and not shitting bricks about using up my paid time off to go to doctors’ appointments. 

Did you ever consider getting a job as a mall Santa? No. I’d rather be one of his elves or a reindeer. 

Are you the one responsible for taking out the garbage? Yes. Grosses me the fuck out sometimes with smelly discarded poultry trays or rotten food, but somebody’s gotta do it. 

Do you recycle? My city has the blue recycling bins, but I heard that since we’re an ass-backward community, “recyclables” and trash all go to the same place. I just place recyclables in the blue bin to help clear up space in the trash bin. Maybe I’m wrong and this city does recycle? Can’t hurt. 

When I was 11, I’d collect empty soda cans to take to the recycling guy since back in the day, they’d pay for aluminum cans. That’s how I scraped up funds for dollar movies and hot dogs. 

Are you a pyro? Yeah. I carry/collect Zippo lighters but mostly because the “click-click” is satisfying to hear since I flip the lids open and closed to relieve stress. And I burn a lot of old bills and letters with sensitive info on them. 

What was the last word/thing you wrote down? I was researching high fiber foods that are also low in carbs to make a grocery and dinner meal plan. 

Sleeping or eating? After my surgery, sleeping. 

Are you overall a positive person? I try to be realistically positive, if such a thing exists. The world will never be all sunshine and My Little Ponies, but I try to find some comfort and positivity when my world is a shit-show. Filling this survey out kinda helps. 

Do you hate hypocrites? Yeah, especially the “do as I say, not as I do” types. 

For instance, a certain family member is pushing good diet and health habits, but it aggravates the hell out of me if I see him drinking high sugar iced tea or eating ice cream. Or Door-Dashing Burger King, even if it is a Beyond Whopper with a diet Coke. 

Do you like to prank people? Yes, but I do benign pranks like leaving dirty riddles and meme drawings on their front doors. 

What was the worst prank you’ve ever done on anyone? I tried fucking with a telesolicitor but I could not stop laughing. 

Have you ever jumped on a trampoline in the ice? I don’t own a trampoline. 

Have you ever ice skated? No. I tried once after a local minor league hockey game. I got the skates on, but my ankles were bending/bowing out so I changed my mind.

Ever water skiid? No. 

Is vacuum spelled funny? Yes. 

Democrat or republican? I don’t associate formally with either party, but I hitch my pony a little to the left. 

Who’s the biggest asshole you know? My former boss circa 2013. Very unprofessional and a veritable loudmouth and a poor (shit) showman wannabe. 

Pen or pencil? Gel-ink pens. 

Should all paper have holes? nope

Speaking of holes. Swiss cheese, what’s the point of that? Fewer calories? Spinning slices in my hand like a TV cowboy spinning his revolver in the trigger guard with his finger? 

Have you ever been in a helicopter before? No. 

Own any airbrushed tshirts? Nope, not even in the nineties. 

Have you ever been suspended? No. 

Have you ever been in a fist fight? A few playground fights as a kid. 

Ever said something to someone that you didn’t mean to say? Yes. 

Do you forgive too easily? I don’t think so. 

What are you listening to right now? The AC running. 

Have you ever seen any of MCR’s music videos? Nope. 

Are you tan? No. 

Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No. I have no desire to look like a Cheeto or woo skin cancer. 

Have you ever played water volley? Once at my uncle’s neighborhood swimming pool. 

Ever had a sunburn? Yes, from neglecting sunscreen re-applications or underestimating the sun. 

How about wind burn? It hurts….. Nah, I don't live in a cold enough climate for that. 

What was the first word you learned how to say? I think it was “mama.”

[rileymarie]

Fangs Pt. 3

“What do you think Rowan the Loser is in for?” he says, nudging him in the arm and pointing to the front row of desks where a redhead kid is sitting hunched over a notebook. “Being a NERD?” he laughs, and launches a crumpled up piece of paper at the back of his head. The kid fidgets when it hits him and starts to look up, but stops himself. I get the feeling this happens a lot. “Hey, whatcha doing over there, Rowan Loser? Too good to even look at us?” the blonde bully says, as I’m now calling him in my head.

I look up at the desk, where Mr. Carmichael sits, a book in his hand. I can tell he knows what’s going on - I mean, you’d have to deaf to not to - but he’s the hard ass type who doesn’t believe in interfering with bullies for students - well, the male ones, at least. I wonder what he would think of the bruise on my wrist, if he’d interfere for me. Probably, cause I’m a girl, a little helpless thing that can’t defend herself, while Rowan is supposed to be a man, stand up to the bully, punch him out or something- 

I feel myself grabbing Blonde Bully’s hand just as he’s preparing to launch another piece of paper. 

“Don’t.” I whisper. 

“OW! What’s wrong with you?” he winces.

I don’t answer, because I don’t know. A few weeks ago, I don’t think I would even be bothered to put myself on the line for somebody else, risking my “perfect name” or whatever - but screw it. I’m sick of everybody thinking they can push us around.

I’ve attracted some unwanted attention. Mr. Luis looks up at us over his books, raising an eyebrow at either me or the blonde kid, I can’t tell. Either way, I let him go and Mr. Luis goes back to reading like nothing happened. 

“Freak.” The blonde kid mutters, and gets up and changes seats.

Great. There goes another hit to my popularity, which is rapidly falling since Wednesday.

But that Rowan kid gives me just the briefest passing smiles, which somehow makes me not care so much.

Rowan

I swear I’m just about to get up and punch that punk Tyler Wallace out. Any minute now, ok? Even Mr. Luis expects me to do something about it, god knows he’s not gonna help me out, I’m supposed to do it myself or something according to “Guy Code”. But then - say that I do? Won’t that get me in even bigger trouble than I already am?

It’s not even my fault I’m in here, ok, I’ve been framed! Nick Beal is the one who wanted to cheat off my paper ok? I don’t see him here, nooo because he’s on the Basketball team, big Whoop. What am I, chopped liver? I’m in Newspaper, doesn’t that count for anything? I guess not, because this school is full of a bunch of fascists. 

It’s fine. Detention isn’t all bad. 

Some girl I’ve never even seen before whispered something to Tyler Wallace, and he stopped throwing wads of paper at me. That was pretty cool. Actually - now that I think about it, I have seen her before. Hanging out with Emily and the “rich popular” crowd. That makes me second guess passing her a smile. Maybe she’s just doing it to make fun of me? I don’t know. 

Shut up, Rowan, you’re just paranoid! Maybe she’s just nice. Couldn’t that be possible?

In this school? Not likely.

I turn away, go back to my Trig homework. Somebody’s gotta do it, after all, and there’s not exactly any scholars in my class to copy off of. 

“Screw this.”

I look up to see Tyler Wallace standing up just as the auburn-haired girl that helped me rolls my eyes. Maybe she said something to him he didn’t like. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mr. Luis glares at him over his book.

“Bathroom.” He says.

“Better make it quick.” 

But Tyler’s got his bag around his arm. Probably he’ll just drive off and won’t come back. Guys like him don’t care how many detentions they get. I’m just glad he’s gone when the door slams shut behind him.

“Ugh, I better go make sure he doesn’t take off.” Mr. Luis grumbles, who must have had the same thought as me. He leaves, and there’s a click as he locks the door behind him.

“Is that really necessary?” I hear myself say out loud, turning without really meaning to toward the auburn-haired girl that helped me out. It’s not until I do that the crippling fear of rejection hits me, and I feel myself tensing, gearing up for her to laugh at me, or throw something.

She just smiles softly.

“At least now we can have some peace and quiet.” She says, and goes back to doodling in her notebook.

I smile, nod, ready to let her go back to her charmed, popular life, while I go back to my nerdy, lonely existence, when her drawings catch my eye. “Wow, those are really cool.” 

Again, without really meaning to, just drawn to her like some weirdo, I get out of my seat and sit beside her. For a second, she looks like she’s going to hide her paper and I think I’ve made a grievous error. But instead, she pushes it toward me.

“It’s stupid.” She shrugs, glances out the window.

In the spirals are words written, poetry it looks like, but I can’t make it out without titling it or examining it under a microscope, which would probably weird her out even more than she probably is.

“That’s cool.” I say, and push it back to her so she can keep drawing if she wants.

“I guess.” She says, and it’s quiet for a few moments. I wonder if I should go back to my desk now, but I’ve already moved, it would be weird to go back now. Luckily, she’s the one who breaks the silence. “That kid pick on you a lot?”

I cringe.

“I mean - I don��t mean-”  she frowns. “It’s no big deal.”

“Just embarrassing.” I say, feeling my face grow hot and I know my cheeks must now match the color of my hair. Great.

“I’ve got bullies, too.” She says, and seems to be thinking about something. Then she holds out her arm under the desk, rolls up her sleeve a little. I blink down at the purple bruise on her wrist, almost not sure what I’m seeing for a minute. Then I wince. It looks like it hurts.

“Who the f-” I stop myself from cursing, then realize my mom isn’t here to yell at me, “Fuck did that?” 

She pushes her sleeve down, pushes her wrist back in her lap.

“Nobody. Sorry. I shouldn’t have even shown you. Sometimes it’s just-“

“Easier to talk to strangers?” I finish for her. 

She nods a little. 

“I get that.” I say. 

She looks at me doubtfully, and I feel the need to tell her a secret, since she just showed me one of hers. 

“Everyone’s a stranger when you have no friends… I haven’t had any of those since I moved here.” I shrug.

The look on her face is not exactly one of relief, but understanding at least. 

“I feel like I used to have so many. I was just fooling myself.” She says quietly, almost to herself. 

“Have you told anybody?” I ask lowly.  “Anybody else I mean?”

She shakes her head. “It’s over. He’s not gonna do it again.” She says, like that settles it. Maybe it does. I nod. 

“Good. That’s good…”

She shrugs, like she’s not sure. I don’t know what else to say, but there’s no more time to talk, because the door opens and Mr. Luis shoves Tyler Wallace inside by the backpack.

“Get in there, you little shit.” He mutters. 

Tyler laughs, and stumbles down the isle. I get up and move just before he sits back down next to-

The girl. I still don’t know her name, I realize. I sit down at my desk, try to refocus on my homework while Tyler chuckles and the girl goes back to looking out the window.

Elizabeth

I told him. What was I thinking? To just tell a stranger like that? What if he’s seen us around, what if he knows who my “ex” is?

So what? An angry voice snarls back. Maybe he’ll tell somebody, somebody who matters, like you should.

I push the thought away. Who cares who knows? It’s bad enough I do, and now this random stranger too? No, no one else can know. I’m done with him, done with the whole thing, and my wrist will be fine soon. It hardly even hurts anymore.

But staring at the ugly thing fills me with a shame and a hatred I can’t quite describe. It really can’t heal fast enough.

After detention, I can tell he wants to talk still, to chat and know my name and more of my secrets, and I run out before he has the chance to as soon as the bell rings.

The walk home is lonely, but I’m beginning to like the feeling. I stomp Fall leaves beneath my boot, savoring the crunch, getting lost in my thoughts. A red convertible drives by, honking the horn at me. It’s Emily and Peter, laughing. I flip them the bird, but I don’t know whether they notice or even bother to look behind them to see if I’m still here. 

It’s not until later - too lost in my own thoughts to notice- that I realize I must have taken a wrong turn. Because when I turn onto my street, I realize it’s not a street at all, but an alleyway. What the hell? I turn around and suddenly the street I thought looked so familiar is now foreign to me. My heart sinks in dread.

I’m lost.This was the first time I’ve walked home, and though I was sure I knew where it was, I clearly didn’t. Mom would be so proud.

I wrap my jacket around me, starting to shiver. The Falls here are colder than they were in California. I hate the East Coast, I decide, hate Emily and Peter and the principle and the guy from detention who’s name I don’t know-

There’s someone behind me.

No, not someone. Several. I can hear their footsteps. They’re laughing. Guys. And a girl, maybe.

I feel myself stiffen. The sun is setting, blinding me just before it dips behind the hills.

They won’t talk to me. They’ll pass. They’ll pass, they’ll pass, they’ll pass…

And then they do, laughing and walking ahead of me. It’s a guy and a girl hand in hand. Just a couple. Where’s the third? 

I push the thought away. I have to retract my steps, find my way back home. 

Night has fallen by the time I’m on a street I recognize once again, just a few blocks away from my home. My steps quicken, I hope mom is ok, that she’s not worried. Why didn’t she call me? What if something went wrong, what if something happened to her? I should have called her after school, I should have skipped detention, I should have-

“Mom?!” I call as I burst through the door.

I wait, three, two, one - No response. My heart skips a beat. Why isn’t she answering? 

Time is a loop.

A balloon on a string, always filled with the same questions.

And no one shall know the hour.

And no one shall know the time.

It’s always the same question.

Is this the day you die?

“Mom? Mom?” 

Not in the kitchen, or the living room.

I run up the stairs, a cold fist coiling around my heart, squeezing it dry-

Your heart, I carry your heart, in mine… I carry it with me-

Where do I know that poem from? 

Your blood is singing to me even know, I can feel you, far away, 

humming

Please, no, no, no, not today, no- -

I push open the door to her bedroom.

She’s laying on her side, her eyes closed, looking dead.

“Mom?” I hear myself say, and my voice is hardly above a whisper, 

Too weak to even whimper-

I reach for her, my hands cold as ice, turn her over.

“Mom? Mom?” I shake her.

A sigh of relief… A rush of blood to the brain… 

“Elizabeth?” my mom says, blinking at me in confusion.

“Oh thank god,” I push away a wave of tears, from fear or relief, I’m not sure.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” she says.

“I thought-“ I shake my head, my panic dissipating like a bad dream. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

Tags: @mizzyplatinum

[mysticmessengerbirds]

in which someone needs to open up

Silence isn’t the answer. MC should know that by now. But sometimes it felt like Jumin was far away. Maybe he was? 

Someone needed to say something. Someone need to open up.

MC loved her husband.

   But sometimes he could be too much.

   Sometimes he could be too little.

   Today was the type of day when dinner was on the table but words weren’t spoken. They ate quietly.

   “MC?” Jumin asked, breaking the silence.

   “Hmm?” MC responded quizzically. They sat on either side of the table with overrated food. Sometimes MC just wanted to have pizza and watch movies illegally. That’s what Seven was for. Sometimes MC just wanted to watch someone play video games and say ‘ouch’ even though they aren’t physically hurt. That’s what Yoosung was for. Sometimes MC wanted someone to give her lots of attention. That’s what Zen was for. Sometimes MC wanted someone to fangirl with at an aesthetically pleasing cafe. That’s what Jaehee is for.

   Sometimes MC didn’t want presents to distract her.

   “MC?”

   “Sorry what?”

   Jumin sighed and rested his elbow on the table, “Are you taking advantage of my generosity?”. It took a second for MC to process the meaning behind what he had just said. Jumin noticed the confusion and discomfort in her expression and quickly retracted his statement.  

   Silence.

   MC doesn’t think she can stay here any longer.

   Too confined.

   Too lonely.

   Too grand.

   “Um...Jumin?” she asked hesitantly, twirling her fork. Jumin looked up again, staring at her with his dark eyes.

   He gave her a soft smile and urged her to continue.

   “I think I’m gonna stay at Yoosung’s this weekend so someone is going to have to feed Elizabeth,”  MC said, not really knowing if Yoosung was free. She had made this up on the spot.

   Jumin looks at her furrowing his eyebrows. He takes a second before continuing to eat with no response.

   Of course he doesn’t care, MC though. She was nervous for no reason. Everything was going to be okay. She was going to make pillow forts with Yoosung and draw stars on his arm and it’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.

   She poked her steak with her fork, brushing off the excess seasoning. Too salty... “Are you not hungry?” Jumin inquired, “I hope you haven’t been skipping meals”.

   Suddenly, as if her body moved on it’s own, MC dropped her fork and stood up. The chair made a loud screech.

“Uh, sorry...I just-”

   “Why do you confid to other RFA members rather than your own husband?” he asked abruptly, standing up to match her. That wasn’t something MC was expecting. MC then starts to walk away from the table, ignoring his comment, and Jumin follows her. “Tell me MC, tell me why you accept my presents but spend no time with me”.

   MC’s footsteps get heavier. She continues to walk towards the door and shouts, “Don’t act as if I like your gift because trust me, I don’t want all this priceless jewelry”. Jumin then mutters something under his breath as she wraps her hand around the doorknob.

   “If you have something to say than say it”

   “After everything I do, you decide to go sleep at some other boy’s house”

   If this was a cartoon, steam would be coming out of MC’s ears. She whipped her body around to face him. Her head was lifted to make eye contact. “Don’t try to guilt me for spending time with my friends. At least I feel important to them!” MC raised her voice.

“You can’t actually think that-”

“OH, I DO!”

   Jumin’s fist retracted and MC flinched. When Jumin froze MC looked back up to him and whisper, “Do it, I dare you” and then she walked out the door.

   Jumin dropped his hand and watched the door slam on his face. He looked down at his feet. It wasn’t even all his fault. It was true that he’s been busy but MC hadn’t told him anything. She didn’t say how the excess gifts made her uncomfortable. She didn’t say anything. “Wait MC!” Jumin shouted while opening the door. He ran towards her but MC didn’t stop.

   Jumin wrapped his arms around her shoulder and MC let out a gasp. “Don’t leave”

   “Don’t tell me what to do”

   “I won’t hurt you”

   MC dropped her head. She’s angry but Jumin was manipulative. He could convince anyone and with that soft and desperate voice, she could never win. He breathed in her ear. “I can be more open and you can be more open and we can have fun” Jumin whispered while nuzzling in her ear.

   “...I can be more open” MC muttered, feeling his hair brush against her cheeks. The tip of her ears were pink as cherry blossoms.

   “Want to come home?” her back pressed against his broad chest.

   “You’ll need to be a little more convincing” MC let out a smirk.

   Jumin smiled. Although MC’s ears were pink, nothing could match the blush that was painting his cheek. He began to kiss up her neck. He was so in love with this girl. MC was going to be the death of him.

“Let’s watch movies and eat popcorn”

Jumin brushed his lips against her cheek and she let out a squeak. MC coughed, trying to play it off.

“Very convincing”

This was a request from my lovely friend fookshadraws

gotta love some angst and fluff <3

AO3

[arrowsbane]

Okay, so there is something to be said for not eating cheese before falling asleep in the mid-afternoon sun, because as fun as it sounds, it can mean for some seriously weird dreams. I am 1000% blaming @shanastoryteller for this, because right before I dozed off, I read this post here that she wrote and it hit a wall, turned 90 degrees east and ran off into the sunset of hell half-frozen over.

So. First let me tell you this, I am not writing this as a fic. Just no. It’s bad enough as it is. Also, while I’m somewhat known for genderbending, I am not really a fan of Fem!Ed. Kind like how I can’t handle Fem!Yuuri from YOI. It’s just… these precious babies are perfect just the way they are and I cannot bear to change them. But, I am down with reading Fem!Ed if there is a reason – like… gender reassignment. (See the aforementioned post). Or maybe Truth just likes to fuck with Ed. Idek.

So. On with the insanity:

So. For some reason, poor Edward Elric is a girl born in a boy’s body. Or maybe he’s just a boy who is more at home in the female shape. I don’t know okay. I’ve always been comfortable exactly as I am, and I’m not going to insult anybody by pretending that I know everything. The point is - Edward is not comfortable in his own skin. Edward knows that his body is somehow wrong. And he’s smart, and brilliant, and a goddamn whiz with Alchemy. And so is Al, who just wants Ed to be happy, no matter what.

So, crazy brilliant brightsparks that they are – with a supernova burning in place of a soul, and the universe in their eyes – they draw up a circle, and Ed goes before Truth.

Truth, of course, isn’t too happy at being faced with a tiny scowling boy who insists that he is a girl; but Truth does understand that sometimes bodies can be uncomfortable at best, and soul-destroying at the worst of times, and this insanely brilliant child is going to be the source of a shit-ton of entertainment for years to come.

So Truth helps.

For shits and giggles, because why not.

...

Trisha is… understandably puzzled. She went to bed the night before, a mother of two sons, and then woke up with a son and a daughter.

Um, what?

They are grounded. Of course they are. Origami cranes are one thing, but this? What were you thinking? You could have been rendered braindead, you could have blown up the house. Or the universe. You could have died!

It should be noted that Trisha ranks her kids’ lives above that of the universe continuing to turn, and reality not peeling apart at the seams.

As any mother rightly should.

...

Time passes, as it is wont to do, and Edward grows into a lovely young woman with a talent for mass destruction and reconstruction.

(although, it must be said that when puberty came rolling around, there were more than a few curses, and Ed had to be physically stopped from reopening the Gate in order to yell at Truth. Because Fuck you asshole!)

Officially, her name is Elizabeth on all the paperwork, but here’s the thing: Ed might be a girl now, but she never stopped being Ed. You can change your shape, but you can’t change who you are. And hell, Ed loves confusing the fuck out of people when she introduces herself as Edward.

[Teacher didn’t discourage this. If anything, she encouraged it.]

It becomes a joke – wherever she goes (and Al is with her, because in what universe would he not be? Don’t answer that. Because that probably means Al is dead in that universe and you can all go to hell before you hurt my little cinnamon roll), leaving chaos and destruction and generally uprooting tyrants for fun; leaving only the whispers of a red coat, long blonde hair and the names Edward and Alphonse Elric: Alchemist Extraordinaires’.

...

[Somewhere in the East, Roy Mustang is tearing his hair out trying to track down a pair of genius brothers. Here’s a hint: It’s not going so well.]

...

Now this? This is not love story for Roy and Ed, oh no. My weird ass dream is twisted, and somehow, I love it. Even though I don’t ship this…

So. It’s summer, and it’s bright, and Edward is now… what? Seventeen? Eighteen? Who cares? The point is, there’s a massive inter-village party going on, and alcohol is involved. She dances the night away, laughing madly the whole time and winds up going for a roll in the hay with a charming chap from two villages over who’s on leave from the military. Not her usual choice, but hey – he’s funny and he pulled out her chair for her, and calls her “ma’am”, and he made her laugh. He also turns out to be brilliant in the sack, so hey – Ed reckons she made a good choice of partner for the night.

She wakes up to a lazy grin, and work-roughened fingers gently teasing straw and dried grass out of her tangled mess of hair – because I’m not joking about the phrase ‘roll in a hay’. It’s round about then that she realizes she forgot to introduce herself, and so she holds out her hand, “Elizabeth,” She tells him. Because hey, he did good last night. He did more than good. She can play nice.

“Havoc,” He replies, shaking her hand, “Jean Havoc.”

Ed fucking laughs at him.

“What?” She asks, “You gonna tell me that you’ve got three brothers called Mischief, Chaos and Trouble?”

He laughs as well, and they’re both still laughing when they tumble over each other and go straight for round two.

...

On and off, the whole summer, these two wind up together. In bed, at dinner, just generally wandering about causing trouble. And then Havoc has to go back to work.

And dammit, Ed finds that she’s missing him. What the hell? Ed doesn’t do pining. She does quick flings, and moves the fuck on. But apparently not anymore.

Al figures it out before she does.

And then when she does, he sits her down and listens while she rants and raves, and curses Havoc out because she did not plan on falling in love. I mean, yeah, she’s got plans to be a Housewife someday, because Teacher was ah-mazing and all that – but no. She had not planned on marrying a military guy. Why would she? The military is E-vil. (And wow, Ed has no idea just how right she is there).

So Ed hmms over it for weeks and then she gets that stubborn look in her eyes, packs her bags, and scoots off down to East City because dammit, she’s getting married. Whether he likes it or not.

Al and Winry are cheering her on, and Trisha isn’t really sure what’s going on anymore.

(Yes, Trisha got ill and shit, but Ed got even more stubborn and kinda maybe might have been more interested in Alchemy and it’s healing properties in this ‘verse, and yeah, she paid a bit more attention when she met Truth. She doesn’t know it yet, but she gave something in trade to the Gate. There’s a reason she doesn’t have Daddy Issues here – she doesn’t even remember him. There’s nothing left to hate.)

...

Ed shows up in a hurricane of energy and barges her way back into Havoc’s life without so much as a by-your-leave. He’s not really complaining. Not even when she storms up to him in a bar when he’s out for a night with the boys, yanks him down by his collar, and tells him that they’re getting married.

“Um… Don’t I get a say in this?” He asks, blinking down at her. Her hair is a mess, and she’s breathing heavily from beating the tar out of a guy outside because he tried to put his hands where they weren’t welcome – but goddamn, she’s still the most beautiful thing Havoc’s ever seen, and in all honesty, his question isn’t so much a “no,” as a bemused “oh really now?”.

Ed straight up growls at him, and he laughs, scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder.

“Oi! Breda!” He shouts down the bar, “Get your coat, I’m getting married.”

Breda chokes on his drink, and then he starts to laugh. “This I gotta see.”

...

So they get married in an office, with a half-sober Breda and some random person they grabbed off the street as witnesses.

Havoc’s collar is unbuttoned, he smells of beer and cigarette smoke. Ed is wearing jeans and a tank top, her hair is a tangled mess of gold and there’s dirt smeared on her left shoulder.

They don’t have any family members there, and Ed makes their rings out of her earrings and Havoc’s watch. But that’s okay. Trisha and Elaine can yell at their kids for eloping at a later date. And then ask about grandchildren in the next breath. Al will laugh himself sick, and Winry will demand to be Godmother when they get around to it.

Not that they plan to – I mean, practicing making the future babies is fun and all, but neither of them want kids just yet.

...

More time passes, and you know what? It works for them.

Ed is a freaking genius who sometimes gets so into her work that she forgets to eat or do the dishes, but that’s just fine because Havoc grew up on a farm where folk did whatever needed doing. So he cooks, and coaxes food into her. He washes dishes, and folds laundry, and he’s even brave enough to pull her away from her books for long enough to get her to sleep.

And then once she’s done with her bender, Ed spends days making it up to him. Because she’s a hundred percent the kind of person who gives stuff her all.

Havoc doesn’t understand one whit of what she’s doing, but hey, it makes her happy. He doesn’t need to know anything more than that.

…

The first time he accidentally catches sight of her notes over her shoulder, he thinks she’s going to kill him, because Alchemists are nothing if insanely secretive of their work.

But hey, no, not Ed. Not with her husband.

She smiles at him, and then yanks him down onto the floor next to her.

And then she starts explaining the basics to him.

…

Because here’s the truth. Ed’s been worrying over Havoc’s complete obliviousness to alchemic circles for a while now, especially seeing as he’s almost always on the team chasing the crazy (in a bad way) alchemists – and dammit, she wants him in one piece. So come hell or high water, she’s going to make sure he knows what is safe and what means he should be hightailing it out of there.

…

The next time he’s closing up a case with the team – a crazy wannabe alchemist had been messing with the structural integrity of a building, and was also apparently a complete and utter moron, because even he knows better than to use those two particular equations in conjunction together.

He says as much, and is treated to looks of utter amazement and disbelief from his teammates.

“What?” He asks, “I know stuff.”

Breda is sniggering behind his back, because unlike the others, he was there when Havoc married the crazy alchemist lady. Come to think of it… Breda might be the only one on the team who even knows that he’s married. Oops.

He really hopes that Hawkeye doesn’t shoot him for this.

…

So yeah, things go fine. Mostly.

Havoc learns when to run away from the crazies, and Ed wanders off with Al to save the world, or sometimes just turns entire cities on their heads by sticking her nose where she shouldn’t – see Youswell, Liore, ect…

And all the while, Mustang rages over the antics of the famous Elric Brothers.

…

It’s actually rather pathetic, and it takes Havoc a long time to put the pieces together.

He’s more than a little bit embarrassed to be honest.

Mustang is halfway through a rant on how Liore has descended into chaos – two raging factions; and Havoc’s eyeing the pin-board, feeling strung out and an odd sense of de ja vu.

Penny in the air?

Huh. Wasn’t Ed in Liore the week before last?

Penny drops.

Oh. Havoc thinks. Oh, shit.

He’s so used to her going by her legal name in public – because while Edward Elric writes alchemical papers and rescues kittens from trees, it’s Elizabeth Havoc who fails epically at knitting, burns scones and actually has a bank account – that he forgot (and wow, is she going to laugh herself sick tonight) that when she’s off gallivanting across the country with Al, she uses her birth name.

Son of a –

He’s been trying to track down his wife and brother-in-law the whole time.

The wife who sleeps in his bed, and the brother-in-law who camps out on their couch.

How is this even his life?

…

Ed does indeed laugh herself sick that night.

Mean.

…

He reckons that he should probably tell Mustang, if only to save Eastern Command from being set on fire the next time the Colonel loses his temper, but hey – Havoc likes living.

So he sleeps on it.

And he sleeps on it.

And he sleeps on it.

Eventually, Friday rolls around, and Ed is giving him that look – the kind that says ‘man up, or I’m buggering off to cause mass chaos and destruction without you,’ and so Havoc swallows his pride.

That day at work, he waits until Mustang is once again ranting on about the Elric Brothers, and then, carefully, warily, pipes up with: “So, um, Chief? I might have a lead.”

Mustang freezes, and then pivots.

Ack. He looks like he might breathe fire at any moment.

“What?”

Havoc gulps. And then he starts to fidget.

“Well, actually,” he admits, “it’s my wife that you’d be wanting to talk to, sir.”

Mustang looks at him like’s gone mental.

“You’re… married?”

“Yes?”

“She’s way too good for him,” Breda snickers, leaning back in his chair.

Mustang blinks, frowns, blinks some more, and then moves his mouth soundlessly for a few moments, clearly furious.

Then, finally, he grinds out a short command of “Call her.”

“Yes sir!” Havoc yelps, diving for the phone line and praying that Ed is at home.

She is.

And she’s more than happy to come down to Command and set the record straight.

She’ll even bring Al with her.

Havoc sort of wants to curl up into a ball and cry.

...

Ed glides into the office, all grace and charm, looking exactly as people would expect an innocent modern-day country housewife to appear. Her blonde hair is carefully braided up into a milkmaid’s style, and there’s a touch of flour dusting the hem of her peasant’s blouse.

Havoc feels like he’s in the twilight zone, because she’s even wearing makeup. Since when does his wild dustdevil of a wife wear makeup?

Al catches his eye and winks – he himself is dressed in neatly pressed clothes and sporting a pair of glasses (why? He doesn’t even need them for fucks sake?) and looks the textbook image of a wet-behind-the-ears scholar who probably couldn’t even find his way out of a paper bag.

“Mrs. Havoc,” Mustang smiles, offering her a seat, with his charm turned up to eleven.

“Hello,” Ed smiles, and there’s a devilsh look in her deceptively innocent topaz eyes, “Edward Elric, at your service.”

She sweeps into a genteel bow, and then gestures to Al.

“Alphonse Elric,” Al grins. “Nice to meet you.”

Havoc sorely wishes he’d called in sick that morning.

…

So… Okay. He’s probably going to die.

Mustang practically has a fit, and Hawkeye’s hand is on her gun, which means Havoc has to try really hard not to flinch.

Once he’s done making a series of choking noises that sound like a dying weasel, Mustang straightens his back, puts on his ‘the military wants you!’ face, and says: “Enlist.”

To her credit, Ed only blinks twice, before her mouth curls into a mischievous grin to anybody who knows her, and a dangerous snarl to the uninformed.

Al grins.

Havoc cringes.

“I,” Havoc’s wonderful Valkyrie of a wife thunders in a flawless imitation of her Teacher, “am a Housewife!”

Oh god. The look on Mustang’s face is priceless. He can’t help it.

Havoc starts to laugh.

BONUS:

Wondering why Father never managed to take over the world?

Funny story actually, Ed kinda might have just happened to be wandering by Briggs when Kimblee (the fucker) conned the Drachmans into attacking the fort, and hey, she kinda likes Amestris you know, being Amestris and not Drachma 2.0

So she drops a mountains worth of snow on them.

Funnily enough – carving a blood crest does not fucking work if all your victims die of air deprivation, or being crushed under several tons of ice and snow. Because, y’know, not enough blood being spilled and all.

Basically? The bad guys ran out of time – and it was all Ed’s fault, because no matter what they tried, she kept fucking up their plans by accident.

And then Honoheim owned their asses.

The End.

[theliberaltony]

via FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarahf (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): We’re back with a snake draft of 2020 Democratic presidential contenders, but this time with a twist — we’re picking the … VICE PRESIDENT.

I know — we don’t know who the presidential nominee is yet. But let’s face it: Even if the primary field grows to 20-plus Democrats, only one can win the nomination. So we might as well talk about who would make a desirable running mate (if not commander-in-chief). And before you scoff, a candidate’s choice for VP can signal a lot about what he or she prioritizes or considers to be a campaign weakness.

Remember, we’re trying to pick someone who’d make a good second-in-command, although our picks tend to diminish in quality as the rounds wear on. The rules are as follows: Four rounds, so between the four of us, 16 potential 2020 Democratic veeps. Let’s determine the order. (I’m going to write our names on paper and recruit someone in the office to draw them out of a hat while Nate orders some Chinese takeout.)

natesilver (Nate Silver, editor in chief): I’m pretty excited about this, I gotta say.

(The VP draft, not just the Chinese food.)

geoffrey.skelley (Geoffrey Skelley, elections analyst): All about a well-balanced meal, or presidential ticket.

sarahf: The lineup:

Clare

Nate

Geoff

Sarah

natesilver: Pretty happy with the No. 2 pick here.

sarahf: I can’t believe I have to go twice in a row. I hate

drafts. Anyway, get us started, Clare!

clare.malone (Clare Malone, senior political writer): mmmmk

Cory Booker

natesilver: bad pick

sarahf: good pick

clare.malone: Here’s my reasoning:

I’m going to operate for a moment on the premise that the “electability” factor that Democratic primary voters say they are going for in 2020 is a stand-in for a centrist-type candidate, and probably a white person. Under those conditions, a white candidate would want to pick Booker for his identity and ability to appeal to black voters, which is a big part of the Democratic primary electorate. But Booker also appeals to the establishment wings of the party and has the sort of resume where you wouldn’t mind setting him up to run for president someday in the future, but with a West Wing office.

geoffrey.skelley: Booker would have been my first pick, too.

sarahf: Still think it’s a bad pick, Nate?

clare.malone: Yes, he does on principle, which I respect.

natesilver: There are two obvious picks, and Booker was maybe the third-best pick after those two obvious ones.

sarahf: Well, then. I don’t suppose I should delay the draft any longer.

You’re up, Nate!

clare.malone: I’m on tenterhooks, with bated breath, etc.

natesilver: I’m going with … Robert (“Beto”) O’Rourke.

clare.malone: bad pick

(I, too, have my principles.)

natesilver: No, it’s a great pick.

geoffrey.skelley: You guys are on a roll.

natesilver: Here’s why: 1) There’s about a 55 percent chance (per Betfair) that the nominee will not be a white dude. 2) If the nominee is not a white dude, the VP probably will be a white dude. 3) The other white dudes are too old (Joe Biden, Bernie Sanders) or would cost Democrats a Senate seat (Sherrod Brown). Hence, Beto.

sarahf: Hmm, I think Beto’s lack of resume disqualifies him (section IV in this article) as VP material, but not necessarily for a presidential run because in that case, charisma matters more than experience.

clare.malone: Nate is just coming at the likelihood of who will be at the top of the ticket differently than I am.

O’Rourke is the right pick if you’re doing Nate’s reasoning of a minority candidate being the nominee.

In that case, O’Rourke is popular, white and young, which would make for a good VP.

natesilver: See, I thought the lack of a resume would make him even more qualified to be VP since it’s a job where you don’t really do anything. He could go around the country eating ice cream and staying at weird motels and blogging about it.

sarahf: Maybe, but I’d argue that VPs have historically been a pretty overqualified bunch.

clare.malone: What do you think is his motel chain of choice?

natesilver: Lol, Beto doesn’t stay at chains, Clare!

clare.malone: You don’t think he’s racking up Holiday Inn Express points?

geoffrey.skelley: A corollary to the craft beer track is the local motel track.

clare.malone: (I love a Holiday Inn, by the way. Always my preference on the road. As is McDonald’s over Burger King.)

BRAND LOYALTY IS IMPORTANT AS AN AMERICAN

sarahf: OK, Geoff, take it away with pick No. 3.

geoffrey.skelley: I made up a little rubric for leading presidential contenders to get a rough calculation of who might best balance a ticket or meet some missing criteria for the major contenders. And this will shake things up, but I think Illinois Sen. Tammy Duckworth best hits the mark of the remaining options out there.

sarahf: Interesting pick.

Do tell us more.

natesilver: “Interesting” is a euphemism for “bad” where I come from.

geoffrey.skelley: She’s got one hell of a story.

She’s the first disabled congresswoman, having lost both of her legs while serving in Iraq as a helicopter pilot. And she is someone of mixed ethnicity from the Midwest.

Outside of Biden, I’m not really sure of the foreign policy credentials of any of the other Democratic presidential candidates. Booker is on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, but Duckworth’s military experience would be an asset.

clare.malone: I’m going to offend Foggy Bottom here and say that people don’t care about foreign policy all that much anymore.

geoffrey.skelley: I think Duckworth could be a presidential candidate someday if she doesn’t get involved in 2020.

natesilver: She was born in Thailand, to a U.S. citizen, so there would probably be debate about her eligibility, a la Ted Cruz.

And I did have her on my list, as I think she’s one of the more plausible nonpresidential contenders who could become VP.

But … like … the fact that she hasn’t expressed any interest in the presidency — doesn’t that also mean she might not want the vice presidency?

sarahf: Her military background is definitely a win for Democrats, but like Nate said, I’m not sure she wants so high-profile of a gig.

clare.malone: She also just had a baby, which might have something to do with not wanting to run right now.

sarahf: OK, I’m here with picks 4 and 5! And I think you all will agree I have some very good picks.

First of all, Vice President Julian Castro.

natesilver: Not bad.

One of my top 2 is still on the board, though.

sarahf: I’m a little surprised no one has claimed him, but my thought is that Castro already has the grooming as a former Cabinet secretary. And I think his message as a Latino American challenging Trump is powerful.

That said, I don’t think it’s powerful enough to win him the nomination. (I just don’t think he has enough name recognition.)

geoffrey.skelley: I wrote Castro’s theory of the case and agree there’s definitely an “I’m running for VP” vibe.

clare.malone: He seems sort of a dull penny in a race filled with shiny pennies.

natesilver: But sometimes that’s what candidates are going for. Tim Kaine is in the “dull penny” bucket. Mike Pence, too.

clare.malone: I agree he has experience and the resume, but there are lots of other people who might make a more interesting choice with similar resumes.

And this is true, Nate, but are we in that era?

geoffrey.skelley: Castro would probably be a decent choice for Biden, Sanders or Elizabeth Warren.

natesilver: Democrats could also talk themselves into thinking they need to double-down on the Hispanic vote.

Maybe Sanders or Warren, Geoffrey. Biden might need to pick someone who is more identifiably to his left?

geoffrey.skelley: Fair point regarding ideology — where Castro stands on a number of issues is a big unknown.

The Electoral College would also complicate — if not exclude — a Castro choice if O’Rourke were to become the nominee.1

sarahf: Guess that means no O’Rourke-Castro ticket in our future.

But OK, my next pick is Amy Klobuchar.

geoffrey.skelley: arrrrgh

Probably could’ve waited on Duckworth and taken Klobuchar, but the first pick is fun and splashy.

sarahf: Klobuchar’s Midwestern chops make her desirable electorally.

And with four women already among the major candidates, if a woman is not at the top of the ticket, she needs to be in the second spot.

natesilver: My suppositions are that 1) there will not be two women on the ticket; 2) there will not be two people of color on the ticket; and 3) there will not be two white men on the ticket.

But you could have a white man and a nonwhite man, e.g. Biden and Booker.

Or a white man and a white woman, e.g. Beto and Klobuchar.

sarahf: In which case, Nate’s first scenario could render my pick useless, but I’m not so sure a woman will win the top spot.

Also, at this stage Klobuchar is the highest-profile “moderate” to throw her hat in the ring, which could help someone like Kamala Harris or Sanders if they were to win the nomination, although I probably agree with Nate that two women on the ticket is not going to happen.

natesilver: Klobuchar definitely has the electability thing going for her, she’s not too old, and no big issues re: her qualifications.

sarahf: OK, remind me how snake drafts work … Geoff is up again?

geoffrey.skelley: This is kind of tough — I have a pick in mind, but I think she’s unlikely to take the No. 2 slot, so I’ll wait. So I’m going with Colorado Sen. Michael Bennet instead.

natesilver: ehhhhh

I guess he’s in the Kaine category of nonshiny white dude.

sarahf:

But TBF, there are several possible nominees that fall into this category.

geoffrey.skelley: If the nominee is a woman and/or a minority, he’s a sort of bland Kaine-esque pick that might be needed. He hails from a battleground state, is Western and went viral recently with his floor speech during the government shutdown. Who knows, he might even be eying an under-the-radar presidential bid.

clare.malone: dull penny

But I guess a dull penny is still legal tender.

natesilver: Is Colorado really a battleground state anymore? Probably not with Trump on the ballot.

clare.malone: My favorite part of that Bennet floor speech was how uncomfortable Alabama Sen. Doug Jones looked to be caught on camera sitting next to the rant.

geoffrey.skelley: I get the dull penny point, but it’s also worth remembering that the presidential nominee is NOT going to want someone who outshines them.

sarahf: Fair.

natesilver: Is it my pick now? One of my top two — the one who isn’t Beto — is still on the board.

sarahf: Well then, take ’em off, Nate. Who is it!?!?

natesilver: Kamala Harris

clare.malone: fuck

You stole my pick.

And it doesn’t even go with your theory!

Not fair.

It goes with MY theory.

geoffrey.skelley: Well, I was tempted to take her both times. But I don’t think she’ll take it unless it’s as Biden’s VP. She can camp out in that California Senate seat, which isn’t up again until 2022, and wait for another chance in 2024 or 2028.

natesilver: I mean — I said earlier there’s a 55 percent chance that the nominee isn’t a white dude. That means there’s a 45 percent chance that it will be a white dude.

clare.malone: Wait, is that how percentages work??

natesilver: Clare, the way percentages work is that if you say something has a 29 percent chance of happening, that actually means there is a 0 percent chance.

clare.malone: ahhhh

natesilver: Biden-Harris is a very natural pairing, especially since Biden will have to shore up support on his left.

Beto-Harris could also work. It’s a bit more of a Clinton-Gore dynamic.

The thing is, though, that we could also very easily wind up with an unnatural arrangement where a deal is brokered on the convention floor.

So I like Harris’s VP chances partly because I like her presidential chances to win, but also to be one of the runners-up if she doesn’t.

clare.malone: OK, I’m up.

Stacey Abrams.

natesilver: Hmm

clare.malone: Since Nate stole my pick for my theory of the case for this chat — that the top of the ticket will probably be white — I’m going with Abrams as a popular black candidate who’s a rising political star.

Although I know there’s buzz about her running for the Senate.

natesilver: “Hmm” isn’t passive-aggressive like “interesting.” I’m generally hmm-ing about whether I like the pick.

clare.malone: But Abrams would be a really interesting, bold move for whomever the nominee ends up being. And Abrams would get a huge boost in national profile.

sarahf: Plus, even though VPs don’t necessarily help the ticket carry their home state, it could be an interesting move for Democrats to pick someone who hails from the Deep South.

geoffrey.skelley: Beto-Abrams: Losing to Win.

natesilver: But are there going to be questions about her experience level? Especially since a black woman isn’t likely to get the benefit of the doubt?

clare.malone: Definitely a criticism that would be leveled.

Then again, maybe we are in the midst of busting up the experience paradigm in presidential politics.

natesilver: Last full round, then a lightning round?

We used to go six rounds back in my day.

But we can treat this as a semi-lightning round, a “thunder round,” if you will.

OK, Clare, we need another pick from you.

clare.malone: I know, Nate. I’m thinking.

geoffrey.skelley: Lot of boring white guys out there.

clare.malone: I’m going to switch my theory of the case midround and operate with the theory that a minority will be at the top of the ticket, so I’m going with the wunderkind of South Bend, Pete Buttigieg.

A lot of the top tier people are taken, but he’d be an interesting Midwestern pick … despite his experience problem, obviously.

geoffrey.skelley: For what it’s worth, Abrams has more experience than Buttigieg — she served in the Georgia House of Representatives for about 10 years and was that body’s minority leader more than half that time. Buttigieg has been mayor of South Bend, Indiana, for seven years.

clare.malone: Well, she’s been picked and the pickings are slim!

sarahf: Potential VPs like Buttigieg, Abrams and Beto are all challenging my notion of the kind of experience a VP should have as an elder statesman or stateswoman.

clare.malone: Brown is someone you’d WANT to pick here, but the possibility of losing the Senate seat is obviously a big problem.

natesilver: So … uhhh … do we think a presidential candidate is going to feel safe picking a gay/lesbian/bi VP candidate?

The country is progressive, but it isn’t that progressive.

This is also relevant to Tammy Baldwin and Kyrsten Sinema, both of whom would also be interesting choices.

clare.malone: Yeah, Tammy Baldwin is maybe a better choice, actually.

And yes, Nate, that’s an open question for sure.

natesilver: OK, my pick?

sarahf: Yup.

natesilver: I am going with …. Pennsylvania Sen. Robert “Bob” Casey Jr.

sarahf: Deep cut.

natesilver: From a crucial swing state, but a Democratic governor would pick his replacement.

He also seemed to at least flirt with the idea of running for president, so he’d probably be interested.

geoffrey.skelley: Abortion politics make him a problematic pick, although the geography makes perfect sense.

And Tim Kaine’s personal pro-life position didn’t foul up Hillary Clinton, so maybe Casey would work for someone like Harris, too.

natesilver: I do agree the abortion thing could be an issue, although his record has shifted to the left over the years.

And he’d be the choice of a candidate who wanted to pivot to the center — someone like Warren. The Harris-Casey fit seems weird, but in theory that could work, too.

Booker-Casey is also not crazy.

geoffrey.skelley: All right. I’ve got some swing state women in mind — I’m going with Sen. Catherine Cortez Masto of Nevada.

natesilver: Very deep cut.

geoffrey.skelley: Latina from a battleground state with a Democratic governor who could appoint her replacement.

natesilver: Yeah, it all makes sense.

geoffrey.skelley: Not a well-known name, but again whoever is at the top of the ticket may not want a high-profile pick. Instead, he or she may be looking for balance.

natesilver: O’Rourke-Cortez Masto really rolls off the tongue

sarahf: OK, I’m up. One “thunder pick” and then a “lightning pick” to take us home.

My thunder pick is: Sherrod Brown despite reservations about picking him earlier.

natesilver: Pretty good for the Thunder round.

Sorry, thunder.

(Reading too much NBA stuff so was thinking about the Oklahoma City Thunder.)

sarahf: He has the policy chops and geographical pull a ticket might need — Senate seat be damned.

geoffrey.skelley: He would make a lot of sense for many candidates.

natesilver: Brown has a real crossover appeal between the left and the “beer track” that makes him very interesting.

But it would help if Ohio weren’t soooo far gone as a swing state, or seemingly so.

Like, I think he’d put Ohio “in play” but not necessarily make the Democrat the favorite there in a 50-50 national race.

sarahf:

LIGHTNING ROUND

Gavin Fucking Newsom

natesilver:

geoffrey.skelley: Say wut.

sarahf: Look, he’s got the ambition: two-term mayor of San Francisco before a quick stint as California’s lieutenant governor. And now he’s the governor of California! Depending on the tone Democrats want to strike in opposing Trump, he could be a formidable foe.

That said, I freely admit he’s a wild card. And a bit of a trollish pick from me.

clare.malone: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I have to say something here.

The recent New Yorker profile of him was fucking amazing

sarahf: It was, Clare. And may have inspired my choice.

clare.malone: I have very rarely seen the bald insecurities of a politician so perfectly laid out.

sarahf: But enough of my nonsense. You’re up, Geoff.

geoffrey.skelley: Sticking with Tammys, I’ll take Sen. Baldwin of Wisconsin.

sarahf: Nice. She’d made my list before I went renegade.

geoffrey.skelley: She said she isn’t interested in running for president, but maybe the VP slot? She would be a battleground senator from the Midwest, and as one of the most liberal senators, she’d be a friendly pick on the left of the party.

sarahf: Democrats are going to need that Midwestern cred.

natesilver: Clare claims she can predict my pick.

clare.malone: I think I know…

natesilver: It’s a pretty boring pick.

Kirsten Gillibrand.

clare.malone: booo

Not who I thought.

natesilver: Gillibrand’s just … I mean, out of the various presidential contenders who aren’t too old, she was the one left standing.

geoffrey.skelley: And she’d take it, too, I suspect. Unlike some of the others.

natesilver: Which is a bit damning with faint praise. But she’s theoretically got appeal to different parts of the Democratic base. She’ll probably raise a lot of money.

clare.malone: That’s a BIG thing, I think.

Very useful to have that fundraising know-how around.

natesilver: She has to perform reasonably well in the primaries. Have a “surge” at some point, even if she doesn’t win any states. If she totally flames out, I don’t think it works.

clare.malone: OK, I’m going to pick who I thought Nate was going to pick because I just want to.

natesilver: Haha, OK. I’m wondering if you’re going to pick who I thought you’d think I’d pick.

clare.malone: …

Doug Jones.

Nate used to LOVE talking about Doug Jones as a presidential nominee.

And Jones is a moderate, up for a tough re-elect in 2020.

Why the heck not!

geoffrey.skelley: It’s going to be hard for him to hold on as a red state Democratic senator, so why not?

natesilver: Haha, I thought you’d pick Dougie J.

He’s a classic Nate last-round pick.

clare.malone: Yes, he is.

natesilver: And I was probably going to take him if Gillibrand weren’t still on the board.

clare.malone: In that case, I feel somewhat vindicated.

sarahf: A final look at our VP-2020 teams. Tweet at us whose lineup you like best:

2020 Democratic vice presidential draft

February 2019

Round Clare Nate Geoff Sarah 1 Cory Booker Beto O’Rourke Tammy Duckworth Julian Castro 2 Stacey Abrams Kamala Harris Michael Bennet Amy Klobuchar 3 Pete Buttigieg Bob Casey Jr. Catherine Cortez Masto Sherrod Brown 4 Doug Jones Kirsten Gillibrand Tammy Baldwin Gavin Newsom

[janeaustentextposts]

What is your favorite non-Austen period novel? Movie?

Okay I’m gonna do a rundown of all my favourites because making me pick one is just mean. (Also at one point in my notes on the following books and films I just wrote “Bagels” and I can’t for the life of me think what I might have meant or autocorrected that from. Maybe a shopping list started to take form. I don’t know.)

(If the film Miss Austen Regrets and book Longbourn by Jo Baker count as non-Austen then include them.)

Films:

Lagaan: Once Upon a Time in India - 2001 (Sports! High stakes! Sticking it to the Colonial Man!)

Mozart’s Sister - 2010 (Beautiful music! Gorgeous androgyny! GIRLS CAST TO PLAY THEIR ACTUAL AGE AND NOT SOME 20-SOMETHING PRETENDING TO BE FOURTEEN!)

Possession - 2002 (I’ve tried the novel, and A.S. Byatt has some beautiful prose but her structures sometimes do my head in, so never finished it. Ignore Paltrow as best you can and enjoy lush Victorian Gothic mystery and the ending is one of the most poignant things I’ve ever been pleasantly surprised with on film, and it leaves you wondering about many, many things…)

Jodhaa Akbar - 2008 (You could put Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai in the worst commercial ever made and I would watch it. Costumes, scenery, and, as a friend once put it “I’m not sure how they did it, but they just had a sex scene without any sex.” Bravo.)

Water - 2005 (Deepa Mehta is such a fantastic filmmaker and I loved this whole trilogy but Water is my favourite.)

Elizabeth - 1998 & Elizabeth: The Golden Age - 2007 (The costumes! The caMERA ANGLES!!! The compli-fucking-cated mess that is Elizabeth I.)[Okay Tumblr won’t let me embed any more trailers, but those ones are easy to find, they’re out there.]Vatel - 2000 (Any foodie who is also a fan of The Sun King and his era will dig this one. A great score, baddie Tim Roth.)Alternatively, in the same era: A Little Chaos - 2015. Storyline is a little weak, but it’s so beautiful and the cast is great and the M U S I C. Kate Winslet. Alan Rickman. Helen McCrory. STANLEY TUCCI.)Also: they’re not films, but TV shows - honourable mentions to the Spanish series Gran Hotel. It’s like a good version of Downton Abbey, only sorta on crack and with a tonne more murder mysteries; and while I have some Issues with its so-called hero and some comparatively weirdo plot-points in S3, overall, it’s fantastic and I’m obssessed. Please don’t mix it up with the Italian re-make which looks horrible in every way. Like, main actors dressed in a poorly-sewn-table-cloth-bad.And shout-out to the new CBC/Netflix series Anne. I will defend this show to the DEATH, alright? They’ve gone bolder and fresher and have managed to involve period realism in a moving way while retaining the sunshine-and-pinafores element that so many people love about L.M. Montgomery’s work. There’s heaps of women with production credits, and I think it shows. Geraldine James is already my favourite Marilla after one episode, and I feel like R.H. Thompson (HEY JASPER DALE HEEEEY!) and Amybeth McNulty are likely going to become my favourite Matthew and Anne, too. People have complained about this series going off-book and in particular some have condemned it sight-unseen because the writers/directors are putting a feminist spin on it and OH GOD THEY SAID FEMINIST QUICK WE GOTTA SET EVERYTHING ON FIRE BECAUSE CHILDHOOD IS RUINED, but honestly it’s just perky and gorgeous and scrappy and nobody can tell me to my face that Kevin Sullivan didn’t go all the fucking way off-book from the very beginning so I am not gonna sit here and insist that the Megan Fallows Anne of Green Gables was perfection which could never be improved upon because that’s just a plain lie. It was nice and it has its place but it’s time for some new blood. (And NOT the telefilms they’ve also come out with recently with Martin Sheen, bless his heart, but they took a brunette child actor and dumped an atrociously stark box of red hair-dye on her before drawing on her freckles and then telling her to please play everything theatrically to the back of the house even though there is a camera ten inches from her face.) I am HERE FOR ANNE. RIDE OR DIE.

AND NOW, FOR BOOKS!

After that you might assume my L.M. Montgomery recommendation would be Anne of Green Gables and sure I won’t say DON’T read them, but for my money the Emily of New Moon trilogy is more my jam and I wish to God and Netflix in all my prayers that there might someday be a decent adaptation of them.I was really into Cassandra Clark’s Abbess of Meaux mystery series for a time, but then things went a bit pear-shaped in what I think was the fourth(?) book and everything was OOC and honestly I haven’t caught up on the later books after that and they seem to be self-published now but I am a sucker for nuns and mysteries so I’ll probably get back into it when I have time.

The Princess Priscilla’s Fortnight and The Solitary Summer by Elizabeth von Arnim. Vacation-reads! Beautiful prose, some wry wit, and fun hijinks. If you’ve ever wanted to run away and live in an isolated cottage in the wilderness for a little while, these are for you. [ETA: I recently got my hands on a copy of The Jasmine Farm so THANK YOU to one of you who recommended it I am loving it so far only I don’t see the appeal in Andrew so wtf Terry you can do better.]Edward Rutherfurd’s geographical history novels–Sarum is the classic to start with, but the others I’ve read are very good, too. (London, New York, and I’m now working my way through a first-edition of Russka.)Amy Levy. A M Y   L E V Y. Criminally under-recognized Jewish Victorian novelist and poet. Novellas Ruben Sachs and The Romance of a Shop. (RS a beautiful and bittersweet story about the conflicts between love, identity, and expectations, and some would say a response to George Eliot’s Daniel Deronda. TRoaS reading a bit like a less treacle-sweet variation on Little Women, where four sisters try to make their way in the world by setting up their own photography studio in late 19th century London.)The Making of a Marchioness by Frances Hodgkin Burnett. Colonialist racism appears in this one, so be warned. Still the book is a THOUSAND times better than the utterly dreadful adaptation known as The Making of a Lady. Jane is better, Emily is better, Walderhurst is better, pretty much EVERYONE IS BETTER. The pacing is better. The plotting and suspense make actual sense.

The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy. A classic, and the grand-daddy of every secret-identity superhero.

The Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy. Like, it makes me MAD how good these books are.

And last but not least, a non-fiction selection in Vere Hodgson’s WWII diaries: Few Eggs and No Oranges. Nothing else has ever brought the experience of living (or trying to) under the shadow of the bombs and the threat of invasion quite like these diaries. Fascinating details, engagingly written, and at times a stark reminder that the Allied victory we take for granted in our history could by no means be counted on by the millions who dwelt in daily uncertainty.

[wenamedthedogkylo]

Anuzzer Tag Game

Tagged by @popcorncow, thank you kindly my dude!

Birthday// January 5th (last Thursday eyyyy whaddup January babies! :D) Gender// Genderfluid, mostly female Zodiac sign// An unrelentingly edgy Capricorn Sibling(s)// Two much older sisters, a much older step-brother, and a muuuch older adopted brother Favourite colour// Gotta go with a nice dark red Pets// 1 1/2 cats, my dummy Natasha and her dummy brother Tiger... they’re really fucking cute but they are kinda dummies Wake up/sleep time// Fuckéd. I’m a good candidate for Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome, because my natural sleep cycle is go to bed between 1 - 4 AM and wake up between 10 AM and 1 PM. But my job prohibits that during the week, so even if I get 8 hours of sleep I’m perpetually exhausted from having to wake up before 7 AM. It’s a load of ass and I’m hoping to see a sleep specialist soon so I can tell my boss we have to work something out.. Love or lust// Mostly love, but lust in moderation doesn’t strike me as a bad thing Coke or pepsi// Coke, P*psi is the liquid waste of Satan himself Day or night// Night Text or call// Text, please, I have a lot of anxiety about phone calls Makeup or natural// Combo, I always do at least my eyebrows and mascara so that I look like a human person and not a mole person, and I’d do more if I had time and energy. But I usually don’t, so 90% natural is the only way I can go and I apologize to the world for that. Met a celebrity// Supposedly I sold Elizabeth Shue a book once, but I didn’t recognize her (my coworker did) and to be perfectly honest I’ve never seen anything she’s been in so eh? Smile or eyes// Eyes are what draw me in first, despite me having a hard time actually making eye contact, but they can be a deadly combination. :D Light or dark hair// Dark, by far. Blonde and ginger can be fine of course, but overwhelmingly dark hair is my preference. (I mean..... just look at my OCs...... how many are blonde or ginger? Like..... one.) Shorter or taller// I guess it doesn’t really matter much, but overal I do prefer taller people. Once in a while, though, an Oscar Isaac or a Daniel Radcliffe comes along and then hot DAMN. Mm-hmm. Intelligence or attraction// Intelligence, because I’ve found that most of the intelligent people I’ve ever known have very keen wits and senses of humor, they’re just not immediately obvious or to everyone’s tastes.So I think it’s the best of both worlds: intelligence and a very attractive quality. However, attraction alone is still a very important factor for me. Chapstick or lipstick// Chapstick is a requirement for my chapped as fuck lips. Lipstick can be fun sometimes. Last song i listened to// I think FOB’s “Uma Thurman”?

Tagging for optional participation: @thegrandr @boxofweasels @hawkeyepancakes @immafiringmylazor @feckity-feckers

[muted-emotionn]

With Tired Souls (1)

[For a better read, listen to Sign of the Times (next door audio with rain and thunder)

Just stop your crying

It's a sign of the times.

Welcome to the final show,

Hope you're wearing your best clothes.

You can't bribe the door on your way

To the sky.

You look pretty good down here

But you ain't really good.

High school parties are supposed to be the peak of your teenage experience. The parties, falling in love with your sweetheart, finally getting to kiss that girl or boy you like, making friendships that'll last for a few minutes or a lifetime if you're lucky. Yes, sometimes not everyone gets to experience any of these; they regret it or are thankful. Some do, and they either regret it or cherish it. Everyone wants to have fun, to deny it or admit it, we all do. But what happens during or after or even before? What's going on with ourselves? Are we having fun to add onto the happiness or to escape from the sadness no one likes to talk about?

The music from inside of the large house blares and almost overpowers the soothing pouring rain happening outside. The ocassional thunder almost drowns out the passionate voice and the piano that compliments it. As Elizabeth sits outside beneath a tree that doesn't quite do her justice when it comes to keeping her at least semi-dry, she sighs deeply and keeps her eyes trained on her fingers as they trace the line patterns on her palm. She's been doing this for the last five minutes. All of the distractions she's indulged while inside, they follow her outside and prevent her from focusing on what's really important: her problem. To run away from them all of the time only makes the healing process a lot longer, but she chooses to ignore that thought as well. Dazed, tired, and a bit out of it due to the marijuana and excessive drinking, she almost falls asleep right then and there..at least until she catches a glimpse of a couple stumbling down the driveway to her left, holding each other, releasing fits of giggles they can't keep down. They seem happy and in love as the smaller girl trips back onto the trunk of a car, her boyfriend tripping into her arms, the pair gazing into each others eyes with goofy grins and lips eager and ready to meet again.

If we never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets?

We never learn, we been here before.

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets.

Elizabeth's face twists in disgust as she looks away, secretly envious of the couple, though hating them with every fiber of her being even if she didn't know them. Some insecurity, right? How the sight of a man and woman happy together can infuriate and damage her heart? Perhaps maybe because she's fallen truly and deeply for another girl who ended up with a boy, shattering her heart to unfixable pieces that now whenever she sees a couple like the one she's looking away from now, what's left of her heart aches to the point of exhaustion.

Just stop your crying

It's a sign of the times.

We gotta get away from here

We gotta get away from here

Just stop your crying, baby

It'll be alright.

They told me that the end is near

We gotta get away from here.

Shawn, a 17 year old jock, faces the bathroom mirror shirtless, inspects every inch of every body part. It's written all over his face--the opposite of approval. Wasn't big enough, packs weren't as obvious and toned, arms didn't quite compliment the rest of his figure, head and neck appearing slightly smaller than his chest and shoulders. He frowns at the voice of his father in his head--coach for the football team--reminding him he doesn't work hard enough, doesn't eat all the right meals at a time he's supposed to, or he eats too much sometimes and loses his ideal body. Reminding him of how he looked when he was younger and how it should be, stressing the skin care and comparing constantly with the other kids on the team. As captain, Shawn should be the big dog, right? The looks, the skill, the confidence, the ability to lead and not follow, the others looking up to him and picturing him as someone they aspire to be. The MAN. Though he doesn't feel like it. The starving and skipping meals to obtain the perfect shape and not gain weight, the doubt and pressure his father puts on him, he begins to anger himself. Shawn thought he wanted to be like his old man, now he isn't so sure. Obsession is an obligation to him. Worry is his number one sport. And right now, as his bushy eyebrows knit together to portray frustration, he reaches over to grab his jersey that rests in the sink, then rips off the velcro sitched with his surname, tossing it into the trash. He didn't like football much anyway. Art was more his thing. Unfortunately, it's looked down on in his family, which is why he stopped drawing and sculpting. "Too gay" his father would claim, "be a man, not a faggot" his words shook him inside. And everyone knew he lived to please him rather than himself.

He didn't realise all of the thinking struck one too many nerves, hence the tears streaming down his face. Why more emotional than ever? Was it the fact that he was drunk or was it the fact that he just reached his limit and couldn't continue with all of the weight on his shoulders anymore? Then he remembers that one irritating phrase branded into his brain since the first moment he's ever shown that he was hurt: man up.

Just stop your crying

Have the time of your life.

Breaking through the atmosphere

And things are pretty good from here.

Remember everything will be alright

We can meet again somewhere

Somewhere far away from here.

Maria, Nyah, Austin, and Liam all crowd around the kitchen table, in a light hearted conversation and away from the others passed out on the living room floor, slung over the couch, and a few others making out in a corner. The girls sat on the high stools while the boys leaned over the countertop, beer bottles in hand.

"Hey, guys?" Maria speaks up after a moment of silence. They all look at her. "Does this ever get tiring to you--the partying and hook ups?"

"Wow. This is coming from the life of all parties?" Austin chuckles. "Come on, Ria, you live for this stuff."

Maria scratches the back of her neck as she shy's away from the group. She reveals nervously, "Actually, I don't."

"What?" Nyah squints.

"I come to these things to escape my parents' constant arguing and putting me in the middle of them, and I stay home to escape getting caught up in the booze and the drugs," she curses herself for opening up for the first time in years, but telling by the understanding yet surprised looks on everyone's faces, she doesn't feel so scared.

"Wow. I had no idea," Austin breathes. "That's rough."

"So do you ever get tired?" she backtracks to her initial question.

"Honestly, no. It's all I got. My parents are never home so instead of being alone all the time, I have half of the school to make it almost impossible," Austin confesses before taking a swig from his bottle.

"I get tired," Liam chimes in. "Well..I mean..I get scared sometimes. What if something goes bad one day and I'm the one that doesn't get away? Like what happened last week with the stunt that Hansel pulled with me and the neighbours in the street. Everyone assumed it was me who set him off, and not his own issues with himself. I am a black man living in a country where my people are getting murdered for silly mistakes or for no reason at all. How could I not be?"

As the tension in the room thickens, the four look down or away from each other or continue drinking to ease the growing pain they all tried to keep down. Then Nyah reaches over to place her hand on Liam's.

"I understand where you're coming from. I felt what you felt that time, but I couldn't act on it. I could have said something to have your back but I didn't want to seem as the angry black woman again," says Nyah. Liam smiles sadly at her and nods.

"It's okay. We all struggle with some stereotype."

"Whore," Maria's hand shoots straight up and she finishes with an eyeroll.

"No you're not," Austin defends.

"Do you know how many boyfriends I went through all four years in this place? How many exposing because I couldn't trust the right guys, or how many rumours spread because of a ride home I had gotten when I drank too much? How many ti--"

Nyah cuts her off, "that does not make you a whore, Maria. I mean, so what you dated a lot, and so what you're comfortable with your sexuality and it's offputting and worthy of shaming to the majority? Fuck the rumours and the labels, you're a good person, and some silly degrading name doesn't change that."

Maria takes in every word from the other girl and embraces the depth and kindness to them. She expresses her gratitude with a warm hug, throwing her arms around Nyah who quickly reciprocates.

"Nyah's right," Liam says. "It's all bullshit anyway--high school, life. Life is so cruel more than it is nice."

"Depending on how you look at it," Austin adds.

"That's exactly how I look at it," agrees Maria.

They're all quiet again, taking in the heartfelt moment until Shawn rushes down the stairs, storming out of the home without saying a word.

"Wow. I've never actually seen him without a shirt before. That's a hot body," Maria says with a light laugh.

"Think he almost got laid and had a bad experience?" Liam snickers with an elbow jabbing lightly at Austin's rib.

"Who knows? I just hope he's doing alright, he hasn't been his usual self in a while."

"He's just struggling, with personal problems," clarifies Nyah with a shrug. She was closest to him and knew better not to go after him whenever he storms off like that. "Be easy on him."

We don't talk enough

We should open up

Before it's all too much.

Will we ever learn?

We've been here before

It's just what we know.

Stop your crying, baby

It's a sign of the times.

We gotta get away

We got to get away

We got to get away

We got to get away

We got to get away!

The rain pouring down hard as ever, Elizabeth is now coming face to face with everything she's been avoiding for months now, and yells. She yells to the sky as oppose to yelling at anyone in sight. She yells to the sky everything that hurts as it cries for her. It hits her all at once; the relief when she forces it all out. Nothing was her fault, and the resentment she begins to let go of doesn't bother staying. It never belonged to her anyway.

While she's releasing bottled up emotions, Shawn is exiting the house and goes straight to his car. Unlocking the door, he climbs in the drivers seat and slams the door shut, wasting no time in pulling out his phone. Tapping on his fathers name in the contact list, he brings the phone to his ear and waits impatiently as it rings.

"Shawn!" his voice roars into the phone. "Where are you? Are you alright?"

"No, dad. I haven't been for the longest. I hate playing the blame game, but it's entirely on you. Everything wrong with me lately, the emotional and mental abuse you put on me, it ends now. I'm quitting the team, I'm ignoring your criticism and judgements, I'm putting down the ball and I'm picking up the pencil. Not because I want to defy you and make you unhappy, but because I want to be happy for me," Shawn lets out all at once. He knew that the longer he'd wait, he'd end up saying nothing at all.

"What the hell are you talking about? I've done nothing but put my life on hold and set up a good one fit for you. One that I couldn't have because you came along too early, you ungrateful, insolent child! So don't you dare call me out on something I'm not guilty for, and don't ever put that all on me," he shouts into the phone. Shawn presses his lips together and nods, surprisingly unaffected by his words. "You should have listened better and followed my--"

"You asked me if I'm alright. Now I can say that I am and that you have no idea what you're talking about. It's about time you do some reflecting like I've done mine," he concludes after interrupting his father's words, and then hangs up before a response comes.

We got to

We got to get away

We got to

We got to get away

We got to

We got to get away.