#but there isn’t actually anything WRONG with being able to think gadgets are cool or fan girl over your fav idol being around

[transselkie]

Matsuda Touta is not actually stupid and this is a hill that I am prepared to die on.

[maxwell-grant]

Cass wouldn’t even begrudingly tolerate [the Black Bat], because she’s even less lenient than Bruce on killing and far more willing to throw down.' - THANK YOU for remembering that.

Cass is my favorite Batfam member, the only one really that I have an active interest in reading about. I'd be incredibly ignorant to not bring bring up such a crucial aspect of her characterization. And even if I didn't personally care for her, well, last thing I'd want is to be another source of frustration for Cass fans. Lord knows there's enough of those to go around.

mousebrass also asked: On that note, how do you imagine a meeting between Cass and the Shadow going?

Fair warning: This one took me 6 hours to write, and it became a hell of a lot longer than I imagined. I liked Cass a lot, but I never quite realized I had this many feelings regarding her until I was tasked with writing this, and a lot of things clicked for me regarding my plans for The Shadow thanks to this ask. @mousebrass, thank you. I mean it. I think I may have found something here I've spent years looking for. Hope you enjoy the post.

I'm thankful that this scenario is only really taking place in a hypothetical fanon where both characters can get a fair shot, because I wouldn't trust DC with this premise. I don't trust DC with either of them as is.

There's a lot of ways that this crossover could go on about taking place naturally, initially because Cass is already connected to some of Batman's pulpier elements, due to her connections to Lady Shiva and the League of Assassins, and one could connect Cass to Myra Reldon (who really should just be race swapped if ever brought back so she can stand out as the cool character she is, without the yellowface gimmick holding her back). There's two things I think are crucial to making the most of this idea, and the first of which has to do with the subject of killing. I usually don't like to come up with hypothetical team-ups for The Shadow that focus too much on the fact that he kills, because it's far from the most significant aspect of his character to focus on, much of it is written from a wrong understanding of the character, and it never amounts to anything other than perfunctory. But here, not only is it completely unavoidable to discuss, here there is actually a very, very substantial grounding as to why this has to be such a big part of the story.

The first and foremost thing that's gotta be established to everyone reading that doesn't know already is this: Cassandra Cain, more so than Batman, more so than any other DCU hero, has a tolerance towards murder lower than zero, and this is completely non-negotiable. She will throw herself on the path of an assault rifle to stop men trying to kill her from accidentally killing each other. The defining moment of her incredibly grim backstory is that she was trained from birth to be the world's greatest murderer, and her first kill traumatized her so badly that she has pivoted as far away from that as possible. I stress a lot that the Shadow should not be written as the trigger-happy maniac comics made him into and that the pulp version killed mostly to defend himself and others, generally left criminals to the police if possible, offered plenty of second-chances, had stories dedicated to the rehabilitation of criminals and so on, but none of this would matter to Cass.

Cass has literally chosen suicide over the prospect of living with murder on her hands time and time again, and The Shadow kills. When he kills, he does so without remorse, with unshakeable certainty. He hates death, he doesn't want lives to be at risk in the first place. But people will die if he doesn't do anything, and what he can do, what he exists to do, is turn the tools of evil against evil, and murder is the oldest tool of evil there is. He doesn't kill because a war scarred him, he doesn't kill because he's got a demon in his soul, he doesn't kill because he's mentally off balance, he doesn't kill because he's evil or sadistic or arrogant or anything of the sort. He kills because the men he fights chose death when they sought to harm innocents and fire guns at him. He kills because he is Death itself.

Regardless of how compassionate he is or can be, regardless of the fact that he's motivated by a desire to protect people, regardless of how justified he is, he is still dropping corpses and laughing maniacally doing so. Cass's real arch-enemy isn't Shiva or David Cain, it's Death, it's the thing that she's fundamentally most opposed to. And guess what The Shadow gets compared to often enough? Literally the very first line of the very first book where we get to see him, this is how we are introduced to him:

So the premise here is that we are taking a character who is defined by her fundamental opposition to death with every fiber of her being, who understands death on a level no other human being does, who is traumatized and hard-wired to detest death at all costs and to choose suicide over it, and asking her to team up with The Grim Reaper.

Even if he received the most abject lesson conceivable on the sheer wrongness of murder, even if he does put down the guns around Cass out of respect for her, he cannot protect his agents and others if he cannot shoot or kill those who try to harm them, and the protection of the agents is absolutely non-negotiable and not at all something he's willing to fuck around with by trying out gadget kung fu superhero alternatives. The Shadow has chosen to throw his life away for their sake time and time again, and no matter how appaling or disgusting Cass finds his deeds, even if he concedes that she's right and should be right on all accounts and that he is fundamentally a monster who has no right to judge others, he would not concede on his mission and he would make it very clear she would have to put him down violently to stop him from protecting others this way, and death has not stopped him before.

And to be upfront in case there's anyone who doubts it, Cass would kick The Shadow's ass, if they had to fight. She is the strongest fighter in the DCU, she lives and breathes fighting and combat in a way no one else does. And The Shadow's not one of those characters who is supposed to be invincible and the best at everything all the time always, he can and does lose fights and scrapes to people far less adept at it than Cass. He's a great fighter, obviously, he hauls bigger men than him through doors and was disabling people with Vulcan neck pinches decades before Spock, and he would definitely have an edge in other areas, but he's out of his league here. Frankly, I don't see The Shadow raising a finger against Cass unless she's been brainwashed into killing people by bad writing. Not because she's a woman, that doesn't really stop him from dealing with evil. But because, for one, she's practically a child compared to him age-wise. Two, he'd obviously know beforehand of her capabilities and how futile it would be to fight or even provoke her. And three, the Shadow's whole thing is knowing. The Shadow Knows and all that. Knowing comes with understanding.

He'd understand very quickly that there is no way someone this young could grow so quickly into the world's greatest fighter without horrific treatment that no one should ever be subjected to. He'd see the movements too practiced and quick, the self-control, the strength and speed far beyond even the trained warriors he's seen, the places where she's been scarred and is good at covering it up. Assuming he doesn't already know about her life story, any meeting between the two would lead to him very quickly figuring out that there's something much deeper about her opposition to killing than just moral reservations, something deeper than Bruce's own gun trauma.

Denny O'Neil's 2nd Batman and Shadow story was about The Shadow secretly helping Bruce overcome gun trauma, and Bruce rejecting The Shadow's intentions to hand him a gun. And to make it clear, people tend to assume that The Shadow only helps people for utilitarian reasons, which is not true as I've tried to demonstrate many times now. I don't want to convey that he would want to help Cass overcome her trauma just so she could be more efficient or something, absolutely no, he'd help her because he helps people in any way he can. I think a story with The Shadow and Cass might involve a similar premise, The Shadow understanding that she has been traumatized very deeply by death and refuses to accept it on any terms, trying to help her overcome it, only to learn that she does not want to "learn" anything she doesn't already know, that she has weaponized her trauma into a source of strength, and wishes nothing more than to help others with it.

And here's where we get to the part that allows the two to be on less antagonistic terms, because one thing that also very strongly defines Cass, at least the Cass I like reading most, is her stubborn, almost desperate need to believe in the best of people, that people can and will change for the better. Like The Shadow, her strength too is knowing, it's perception, the things that she knows about people that words cannot convey. Just as there are many things The Shadow would grow to understand about her that others would not, there would be many things that The Shadow would not be able to conceal from her. Things that no one but her would figure out. Things that, despite her age and lack of experience compared to him, he would have to defer to her knowledge on, which reverses the usual dynamic The Shadow has with people. And perhaps one aspect of that reversal, it's that maybe it's she who winds up secretly manipulating The Shadow into overcoming a deeper issue.

Cass's perspective on killing is shaped not just through trauma, but from a painfully intimate understanding of not just what happens to someone at the time of death, but the cost of murder upon the human soul, the ways it warps people into things they never should have been. Killing is a deeply, deeply serious matter, much more so than fiction seems ever willing to go into. Of course we suspend disbelief for fiction, there's nothing wrong with that, but if a story starts asking questions, starts poking holes into fantasies, they should not be disregarded.

And so it begs a question: How has it affected The Shadow? Is he really as remorseless as he appears to be? Is the fact that he's only killing evil people really of that much use? What's the cost of living as someone who has to know so much about so much evil in so many hearts? Knowledge never comes without price, and knowing evil is his tagline. When he enlists Harry Vincent, he makes it very clear that he has lost lives as he has saved them. From when is that regret coming from? What lives did he lose then? Is he saving people by damning his soul or merely prolonging the inevitable by piling corpses on another end of the scale?

If there's a character that could meaningfully start bringing these questions forth, who could ever truly get The Shadow to stop and reveal things to the audience he never would otherwise, maybe Cass could be that character. A girl who was raised to be a monster, who is treated as a monster and an aberration in-universe (and even outside of it), and turned that into a strength she uses to help others, who cares about everyone and refuses to let others be dehumanized as she was. Who better to know what lurks in the Shadow's heart?

Sometimes when I get an ask, I bullshit my way through infodump walls of text until I can structure it into something vaguely resembling a point. And sometimes, and I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I get a very, very clear word on my mind related to it before I start writing, that almost seems to be a beacon pointing where I need to get to, and I work my way into getting there. Once you sent me an ask about crossing over The Shadow with Cassandra Cain, the word that came to mind the very second was Language.

It's an interesting relation the two have with language. Language is of course a very substantial part of Cass's character, who does not process language and linguistic development the way most people do, and instead reads body language to the point of superpower. Many stories revolve around Cass's relation to the concept of language, the help she may require from others in getting around things beyond her upbringing, and ways in which she has mastered beyond anyone's scope. Though she is mute, language is her power, what makes her what she is, and she is someone that Batman freely admits could kick his ass if she ever felt like it.

For The Shadow, language is also his power. He speaks all languages and connects allies all over the world, he is an expert ventriloquist, he is able to project his voice beyond what's physically possible, he can imitate voices perfectly to the point of being able to conduct group conversations single-handedly well enough to fool even the people whose voices he's imitating, much of his presence and terror and manipulation are done through his voice, arguably the very reason he exists in the first place is entirely because a radio actor's voice performance was so good and captivating that it tricked people into thinking the character was a real star and not just a glorified narrator. The man you cannot see, but only hear, the perfect hero for radio. And then of course the laugh, which I have a whole separate post on and which, in many ways, acts as a substitute for language in the novels. He uses the laugh so often as a substitute for statements or words, even to himself, that it's pretty much his own personal language. And language is at the core of how he deals with people, as he knows the right language to use to manipulate and move and help them. He knows what to promise, what to reveal, what to omit. He knows what to say, how to say it, when to say it. Language is the strings by which he puppeteers the world around him (and he can talk to animals, at least of one kind).

The Shadow and Cassandra Cain have mastered two different types of Language as throughly as anyone can possibly master them. The Shadow can talk a group of hardened criminals into killing themselves, Cassandra can punch a heart into stopping without killing it. The Shadow echoes his voice "through everywhere and nowhere at once" to whip crowds of thugs into frenzies, Cassandra outraces missiles and was tanking bullets as a child. The Shadow can lie and usurp lives so masterfully to fool even the families of those he's passing off as, Cassandra is a living lie detector who gleams inner conversations from miniscule reactions. The Shadow can speak every language known, Cassandra is the greatest master of the world's most universal language other than music. The two are supposedly human, but every now and then, something comes along to call that into question because of the things they can achieve. They cannot hide secrets from each other the way they do to everyone else. They are driven by a deep desire to help others, to make something out of the circumstances of their lives. To weaponize that which dictates they should be evil and monstrous into a relentless force of good.

Language is the root of understanding. And if nothing else, as impossible as a conciliation of their approaches to crimefighting may be, I think there could be an unique understanding between the two. Perhaps, and this is a bit crazier a concept but one that seems to be where I might have been heading towards all along, even Cassandra Cain finding a calling away from the frayed dynamics of the Batfamily, away from the Bat's looming presence, to become The Shadow's successor, swearing to uphold a mission of justice through non-lethal tactics while he stays on the backseat guiding her. If The Shadow could trust the safety of his agents and the protection of the innocent at the hands of someone as capable and selfless and good-natured as Cassandra, I think he'd be all too happy to be able to trust someone in such a manner, to no longer be the Master of Darkness, but instead to serve the next generation that's weaponized darkness without submerging in it. To achieve, and perhaps return, to his strongest, highest self: A disembodied voice heard, but not seen. Once again the narrator, not the star.

It's a concept I've thought about very extensively for the years I've been a Shadow fan, but now it occurs to me that, if I had to appoint a successor of The Shadow, someone who could take up the mission but shine on their own right, even improve it with the right guidance and circumstances, it would be Cassandra Cain. The Orphan, The Shadow of the Batgirl. Daughter of the greatest assassins, meant to be the world's most lethal murderer, instead pivoted to being one of it's greatest heroes, but never allowed to shine as she should. But in the darker, less restrictive and wilder world of pulp heroes, in The Shadow's world, a beacon would shine all the harder. Perfect strengths attached to perfect opposites, joined together for a greater good, unstoppable after together having weaponized that which most take for granted: the power of language to move worlds.

[datawyrms]

Irresistible

For PhicPhight! On Ao3

“Earth to clueless one, walking through walls isn’t something you should be doing right now!” Sam’s hiss made him notice the fact something had grabbed his wrist.

“Right, sorry!” He said it without thinking, eyes flicking to Tucker. His other friend looked just as concerned, great. “I don’t think I got enough sleep.”

“When do you ever, dude? You didn’t even sneak out last night.” Still, his more technically inclined friend released his wrist. “Something your parents working on keeping you up?”

“You know we’re fine if you crash in our rooms.” Sam was a little less gentle. “So do that instead of whatever sleepwalking this is.”

“No! Like, I don’t remember not being able to sleep or anything?” Not that it helped, he felt like he’d been awake all night thanks to the weird dreams. “I swear I’m not being a tough guy or whatever.” He rubbed at his forehead, privately wishing his fingers could just push away the fog of exhaustion instead of just making him more aware of how sluggish he felt.

“Maybe you should crash with one of us anyway? You don’t look good.” Tucker’s frown only made the half ghost grumble. “‘Course you never look as good as me, but lately? You’re pulling the two thirds ghost look.”

“Harhar.” He shrugged the suggestion off, even if he was pretty tempted. There wasn’t anything weird in the house that he noticed, and his parents weren’t being any more anti-ghost then usual. He probably slept in a weird position or something. “I don’t think weird underwater dreams are a Fentonworks exclusive.”

“Underwater?” Sam just looked puzzled. “From what? I can’t even remember the last time any of us went swimming.”

“How should I know?” He couldn’t even say it was like flying, because it wasn’t like one of those dreams at all. Too sluggish, none of the freedom he normally felt. “I’ll just nap in math class…”

It had been a joke, really. He didn’t actually mean to sleep in math class, but his desk was cool and his head felt so heavy that he couldn’t resist nodding off. He just wished it had helped more, the bell ringing just made him want to sink into the floor and stay there. Which would probably freak everyone out. Not a good idea. At least the stern talking to he earned for ‘being disrespectful’ went right over his head with it so hazy.

“Dude. Just skip if you’re gonna sleep all day.” Tucker was poking him in the face with a fork. Rude.

“I’m not gonna sleep all day. Relax.” The tines were annoying, but doing more than blindly pushing it away from him was beyond him for the moment.

“Spacing out all day isn’t any better.” Sam’s voice wasn’t a surprise, but the fact she wasn't telling Tucker to stop poking him in the face was.

“I’m not.”

“Tucker’s been poking you for five minutes.”

“Oh.” Really? Hadn’t felt like that. Maybe he had like a ghost cold?

“Just go hide out in the attic, you obviously need it.” The poking stopped, Tucker’s voice low as if he’d leaned closer.

“Can’t miss even more stuff guys…you know that.” Even if he really, really wanted to take that offer right now.

“Well here you’ll just get the teachers angry by snoozing through class. We’ll try and see what’s messing with you after school.”

“Nothing’s messing with me! I think.” His objection wasn’t great, but Sam didn’t seem up to argue with him about it anyway.

Tucker adjusted his hat, avoiding his eyes. “Kinda hope something is, you’re kinda freaking us out.”

Well, that didn’t feel good. He scratched at the back of his head, trying to ignore how his friends kept looking at him like some kind of wounded kitten. He was fine, really! “Well uh. See you after school?” He didn’t give them time to answer before stumbling away from the table to find somewhere quiet to vanish from. He sort of hoped being in his ghost form would have shaken some of his muddled need for sleep, but being colder just made the throbbing behind his eyes feel worse. Not enough to keep him from keeping invisible and slipping into Tucker’s attic, but enough that becoming human again actually made him feel a little less ragged.

It shouldn’t be this easy to huddle in the musty old chair and drop off in the middle of the day. The guilt for doing so alone should make him twist and struggle to get comfortable, but sleep welcomed him eagerly. A part of him worried Nocturn was afoot, but it wasn’t enough to keep him awake.

“You think his parents made something that makes ghosts go dormant or something?”

“Or drain all their energy?

He kind of wanted to ignore the voices and keep sleeping, but shook himself awake. He didn’t need this much sleep, he was fine. If they were here he’d been sleeping for hours already!

“Sleeping beauty awakes.”

Danny rolled his eyes at Tucker’s attempt to pretend they hadn’t been talking about him. “You better not have kissed me.”

“If you kept sleeping for another hour he totally would have.” Sam smirk only grew when Tucker let out an offended squawk.

“Under duress!”

“The meat stench on your breath could wake the dead, so it had to be you.”

“Not dead yet, thanks…” Even if he’d been feeling tired enough to be a corpse today. “Anyone notice?”

“Told Lancer you were sick. He bought it.” Tucker shrugged, tossing a thermos between his hands. “You were really out of it huh?”

“Wait, was there an attack?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle.” Sam snatched the thermos away, glaring at Tucker as she did so. “You stay here, we’ll check out your house.”

He’d just slept through a ghost attacking? Really? “No way, how would you explain why I’m not with you?”

“Easy. We’ll just say you are, they won’t notice.” The goth scoffed, already halfway to getting the attic door open. “If you can hide being a ghost, we can hide you not being there for an afternoon.”

She sort of had a point there. “Fine. You aren’t gonna find anything. If it was some new gadget I’d say so.”

He kind of hoped they’d prove him wrong, but the concerned and frustrated looks on their faces betrayed that there were no new plans or even an idea to what had gotten him ‘out of sorts’. It was probably just a one off thing anyway, he’d be fine. It wasn’t like his parents were bragging about a new discovery or anything. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep since he spent so much of the day doing so, though he was still tired...he actually looked forward to dinner being over so he could snuggle under his blankets and look at the little glowing stick on stars of his ceiling before drifting off again.

Only the dream came back. A small, pitiful ghost underwater while something kept calling at him. It wasn’t warm or inviting, more like the command from someone respected. The wisp of a creature couldn’t really ignore it either, it was like a pulse that burrowed inside and thrummed until he responded. They weren’t asking for much. Just wanted him to go hunt ghosts. He always did that anyway, that part was easy.

He didn’t like how the commanding one grabbed him under the chin at his return, but couldn’t find it in him to struggle. They were stronger than he was, he was a subordinate not strong enough to challenge them. A pair, stronger and unknowable with how they’d speak in a language he didn’t understand. He could only watch, green eyes wide for any hint of anger, wanting to make himself smaller, but the creature was little more than a shadow to begin with. Hunt, bring them the prey they wanted, and they’d allow him to exist. A fair trade, really. His core trembled at the idea the clawed hands at his face could easily sink into his chest, he couldn’t risk angering them. Their red eyes saw everything, knew everything. He didn’t want to be around them, but that call was too strong. Those eyes lurked on every surface, a burning red that cut through the weight of the water that was everything as if it wasn’t even there. Their commands became a sort of second skin, but didn’t protect him from the beings deciding to come uncomfortably close, or clutch his thin limbs and take something before letting him slip back into undefined chaos again.

He preferred being told to hunt. Leaving other ghosts, the smaller ones, lesser than even the inkblot he was in the universe to be looked over and examined while he remained mostly untouched. Still wispy, mostly undefined outside of his eyes, unlike the remains of those who ‘earned’ the greater ones full attention. No time to rest, just going and going until they claimed he’d done enough.

Being dismissed wasn’t a free pass to do as he pleased though. It was still a command, something he had to obey lest they show him why they were in charge. To go in hiding, be unseen, do nothing until they wanted him to hunt again. That should be easy, simple, but it made his tail ache and his heart lurch. He didn’t only want to hunt, he wanted to do not-ghost things.

Yet the figures didn’t care what a weaker ghost wanted to do. They’d find out. He had to hide.

Danny just felt exhausted. As if the dream had made him as tired as the ghost he was in that nightmare. Which couldn’t be true, he didn’t care about stronger ghosts and what they wanted. He’d fought the king of ghosts! He had a track record of flipping off authority when it suited him better. It didn’t push away the heavy weight in his head that only begged him to go back to sleep. Maybe he really was just sick.

Sick enough to get sent right back to bed by his mom when he slumped down for breakfast, her concern nice, but also discomforting. She held her hand at his forehead for a touch too long, seemed to stare into his eyes enough to make him want to avert them. Her gentle nudging to get some more sleep nearly had him bolting up the stairs. Like he had to go that moment. Rubbing at his temples didn’t dissuade the feeling, but the pressure lifted somewhat when he was back in bed and covered in blankets. Some stupid leftover feeling from that dream or something. He wasn’t hiding.

“Danny? You okay under there?” Jazz’s question just felt like a nail to his skull, and he hoped she could see the displeasure in his eyes as he poked out from under the blankets to glare at her.

“I might be if someone didn’t wake me up.” The sunlight peeking in from the windows only soured his mood, he should have closed the blinds.

“Well, someone’s grumpy.” Either she didn’t see his annoyance, or she was deliberately ignoring it. “Mom said you don’t have a fever, but you run pretty cold...do you want something for it?”

“It’s just a headache.”

“Sure, mister ‘I ignored a bone fracture’ is crippled by a headache. Not buying it.”

“That was meant to be a secret, who snitched?” His frustration just made him feel uncomfortably warm, they knew he hated it when Jazz fussed over that stuff. Maybe he should ignore their calls for a bit.

“No one did, I actually pay attention when you start favouring your left hand.” Her frown just made him want to duck back out of sight. “You sure you don’t need anything? Anything mom and dad wouldn’t think you need?”

For a smart person, Jazz could be incredibly unsubtle. “No. I’m just worn out, or something.” He didn’t feel like coughing or sneezing, or even the gurgling discomfort of an upset stomach. It couldn’t be that serious. “You’ll be late if you keep standing there.”

“Let us know if you think of anything!” She was already halfway down the hall while saying that, not getting to see how her brother rolled his eyes and ducked back under the blankets. Her biggest weakness, other obligations. Not that it would help after school. He’d be fine by then, probably. Just some peace and quiet and he’d be back to normal. Just like he said yesterday. Only for real this time. Positive thinking, or whatever.

He did feel a bit better now that it was quiet. Still tired, but his head wasn’t pounding as much as it was whenever someone insisted on talking to him.

He figured he’d just sleep, maybe play Doomed once he was more awake. Step one, sleeping had been going well, but Mom and Dad had other plans jeopardizing that. Since when did they listen to music while they worked? With enough base that he could feel it rattling his bones no less. Covering his ears couldn’t do much about that. Trying to ignore it, or hope they were just messing with something for a minute and it would stop wasn’t getting anywhere either. So why was he just hesitating up here? They probably didn’t even notice it was so loud, or forgot he was home sick. He shook his legs to try and wake them up after he wobbled with his first steps to the door. Maybe he could- no, there wasn’t any reason to just wait.

When had they gotten so many stairs anyway? Danny found himself gripping the railing as if he was seven again, worried about slipping as if he didn’t run down them two at a time normally. He hesitated at the bottom, eyes scanning the ground floor for a sign of the scientists. The awful noise didn’t seem much louder, but he felt every beat of it as his heart seemed to slip into sync. He didn’t want to risk more stairs, he was imagining things. He opened his mouth to speak, coughing instead over how dry it felt. Sleeping with his mouth open, duh. His second attempt went better, but was not as much of a shout as he planned it to be. “Mom? Dad? Can you turn it down?”

He waited. Nothing. It must be too loud for them to hear him over the din of that deafening pulse. Keeping one ear covered the boy edged to the lab’s staircase, staring down them as if he was looking from a mountaintop, a deadly drop. He so didn’t want to go down there, to go closer to whatever the heck it was. “Dad? Mom?” He called again, trying to ignore how his voice cracked at the question. He wasn’t scared of a staircase! His heart kept pounding in his ears, knuckles going white as he kept his hands in anxious fists. Everything told him to get back, to stay away, but couldn’t stand the noise. Besides, what if it was hurting them? Maybe that’s why they didn’t answer? Worry for them helped push back the seaping cold, heading down to the lab faster than he’d managed to get down from his room.

It was brightly lit, normal but cold. He could see them, hunched over a work desk and unharmed. The glare made his eyes hurt, pausing to rub at them. They seemed blurry, even though he wasn’t that far away. “Uh, Mom, Dad? Can you turn down whatever you’re working on? I can’t sleep.” He asked, unable to convince his legs to step a bit closer, feeling too tired to make any extra effort.

“Turn down what sweetie?” She turned to face him, making his blood try to turn to ice in his veins. She sounded right, said the right thing-but he was already trying to back up the stairs. Was she taller? “Sweetie? You look pale.”

“T-The noise.” The answer sputtered from him unbidden as he tried desperately to figure out what was wrong with-with-his mom? The echoed pounding told him no, it wasn’t, but who else could it be. “I can hear it upstairs.”

She approached with a too long stride, his own legs slipping in his blind step upwards. Pain from his elbow slamming into the edge of the staircase managed to rip through him even while everything else felt slow. She only quickened towards him as he cursed, trying to crabwalk backwards from the mother-that-was-not.

“Danny! Are you okay? Let me help you.” She grabbed him around the shoulders and he froze, a rabbit being watched by a hawk. She was too real, too solid, she could easily rip through him. “Maybe we should get you to the doctor honey, there’s isn’t anything on down here.”

Should he squirm away? She was lying about the sound, it kept pounding against him like a tide and he had no way to ride the wave clutched as he was. “There is, the thing over there-” He didn’t know what it was, but he could feel it, that it was over with the other figure, the one who hadn’t come to snag an intruder.

The hand on his forehead burned, but he couldn’t flinch away. “Sweetie, I think I’d know if your Dad was playing it.” The eyes bore into him, scanning him for any slight movement. “Jack, can you start the RV? I think we should take Danny to emergency.”

The other figure moved, massive, larger than he could imagine. It might hurt him, it might hurt his mom! “S-Stay back!” He yelled, a spark of energy finding its way to him. He couldn’t let his mom get attacked by whatever this was- no wonder she seemed strange, this thing was doing it.

“Well I gotta get up the stairs Danno! You don’t look good, you just wait there.” It was speaking as it came closer, but all it did was make the bile rise in his throat as it pretended to be his father. He squirmed free to stumble forward and block this thing from his mom, eyes burning green as he tried to shove past the exhaustion and fight.

“I said STAY BACK!”

The figure paused at his shriek and wild eyed fury, face unreadable. “Danny?” His voice was low, booming in a way that started to drain all his prior hope to fight the thing off. “Madds? I don’t think emergency can fix what he’s got.”

Claws sunk into his back, his neck aching at the speed used to look back at his mother, too long fingers tight on his shoulders and keeping hims still as he stared up and felt even smaller. “You don’t think he’s possessed?” She wasn’t talking to him, and that was a relief even as his heart tried to run off without him with how fast it wanted to go.

“Y-You did something to my mom.” The accusation made it easier to keep on his feet, but didn’t lessen her grip or stop the giant from approaching. “Take your noisemaker and get out!” If it was gone, it’d be fine, they’d be safe, he was sure of it.

“Danny, that’s your dad sweetie. Not a monster.” The voice was gentle, but he could feel how the arms shook, how she  increased the strength of her grip so he couldn’t pull away again. “You keep doing your best to fight that ghost off Danny, dad will help you.”

The larger figure grabbed the horrible silver device, the red gems adorning the horn’s buttons making him feel empty and helpless. “S-Stop it, you can’t let it use that mom!” He pleaded, but she didn’t release him, just pulled him closer to the smothering warmth. “Please, listen to me!” Of course she didn’t, controlled by that thing, twisted into thinking it was Dad, that it was quiet. Becoming intangible let him slip free, but he only managed two steps before the behemoth blew a long sustained note that made his skin vibrate and eyes swim. He crumpled to the cool floor, staring up at the monster in a silent horror. He couldn’t fight this thing- he’d been a fool to try and the red eyes promised retribution for his behaviour.

“Get out of my son right now, ghost.” It snarled, pointing directly at his crumpled form so he could not pretend to misunderstand. Yet he’d given an order he couldn’t follow. His core screeched in terror as his heart pounded, he couldn’t get out. Yet he had to, or this thing would devour him, shred him to nothing with nothing but sound. He could only try the closest he could get to ‘out’ of his own skin, shuddering as flesh melted to ectoplasm, trying not to scream as suit replaced skin. Not his normal transformation, this one was too slow- too confused by the order he couldn’t follow to make it an instantaneous change. He had to show he wasn’t wearing his human skin, show how completely he changed. Dying slowly, bit by bit  to be someone else. Not ‘his son’. His enemy. Green eyes stared back at the red ones as he panted, unsure if the monster was pleased.

It was furious, stepping forward as he shrank back and pulled his ghostly tail around himself. “I told you to get out.”

“I can’t.” He whimpered, wanting to look away but unable to.

Another voice behind him, the mom that wasn’t spoke. Yet he didn’t understand a word of it, too terrified by the being in front of him to even process it as language.

“Don’t lie to me Phantom. Get out of my son before we tear you out.”

His name made him flinch, gloved hands clutching at his head as the impossibility of that tore at his mind. “I’m not, I swear, I can’t get out of myself!” How could he not be in his son when he was his son? He had to find a way, his slowed but still pounding heart offering some idea.

“Don’t you dare pretend to be my son, ghost.”

He wanted to explain he wasn’t pretending, that he wasn’t disobeying on purpose but the massive thing had him by the collar of his jumpsuit, leaving him busy trying to breathe enough to speak. If he wasn’t a hybrid, then maybe the monster would be satisfied? He didn’t get much time to wonder before getting tossed in a containment cell. “I’m not pretending- the accident…” he mumbled, trying to make himself look smaller as if he could hide from the hateful eyes that way. They stared at him, spoke gibberish to one another as the previous exhaustion came back with a vengeance. Keeping still felt like the best idea. When the bigger one locked eyes with him and ordered that he sleep, he did.

Dreaming and waking became one and the same. He stayed in his cage unless ordered out. They kept asking him the impossible, until he tried to rip out his heart to ‘separate’ through death. They didn’t want their son harmed- didn’t see how separating was harm, but did not destroy him for that blunder. He hunted, brought them what they wanted. They kept watching as if expecting him to disobey, to slip his leash even as he practically groveled when they approached. He hoped Mom was okay, wherever she was. Maybe Jazz could rescue her from the monster with the cornet on spring break. A ghost couldn’t. A ghost simply obeyed.

Prompt: Danny hasn't been feeling himself, blacking out and having strange dreams. Unbeknownst to him, Freakshow's staff was not the only artifact that could control ghosts. Even worse, Jack and Maddie are the ones who get their hands on that object.

[magnumdays]

4.01 ideas

So season 3 leaves a lot of different ways for season 4 to start.

I have to believe there was an actual reason for sending Juliet and Ethan off to Africa so hopefully it will be good. I don’t know what the producers are thinking/ planning for the next season but here are some possible plots I would LOVE (and in some cases NEED) to see.

Miggy reunion (hug) - so this would mean we start at the end of the six months (or some months into the Kenya adventure). This is the one plot/scene I absolutely would hate if we didn’t get. But I mean, come one, they have to give us our Miggy reunion! 

(Or like more than one. Maybe we can have both Higgy and Magnum have dream reunions. And then like somehow have one airport reunion and then a welcome home hug and just... actually I legit wouldn’t mind if the whole episode was just Miggy reunion feels...)

But really we need and will most likely get this no matter what’s going down in 4.01...

Juliet in trouble 

I think this is one of the most obvious ones. 

I wrote about this back when the whole “riding off into the sunset” thing was a thing, like how I didn’t think they’d actually have Juliet leave. But if they did they just HAD to do an episode with her getting into trouble over-seas and the boys coming to her rescue. Since I was wrong and they did have Juliet and  go with Ethan, this just means there is a chance for this plot to become real! 

It would go something like; Juliet gets herself into trouble in Kenya and Magnum fly across the world to save her, fighting bad guys and just being all around super cool. We get a dramatic almost dying for each other and Miggy reunion. 

But with Higgy having been kidnapped just a few episodes ago, I don’t know about the likelihood of this...

Ethan in trouble - Same deal, only here we have Ethan being the one in trouble. Kidnapped to preform a surgery on an weapons’ dealer or something like that. 

We would get high stakes, Magnum/Higgy working together to save E, angsty Magnum because he loves Higgy but he has to save her boyfriend and Juliet having trauma about possibly losing the man she loves. Then maybe have Magnum almost get shot saving Ethan and she’s even more shook about that and decides Magnum is where it’s at and bye-bye Ethan... 

All around I think this one would make for a great 4.01 (or 4.02.)

Spy related

Something to do with Higgy’s past as a spy comes back to haunt her in Kenya. This could lead to a Higgy/ Ethan break up without Magnum or the guys even having to show up. Because I don’t think Ethan is actually cool with dating a spy. As tough guy as he sometimes tried to act around the gang.

Plus spy gadgets are cool and MacGyver is over. Which brings us to...

MacGyver cross over

How amazing would this be... I mean MacGyver is over so it’s highly unlikely but it would be great if we could get Mac, Riley, Boozer making a quick appearance. Just saying, could be fun, and a great way to bring over some MacGyver fans to Magnum PI! (Come to the dark side, we have fancy cars, palm trees and slow-burn...)

Magnum/ Higgy long distance - So this is not something I’d love to see for anything but like one episode. Like starting off the episode with them skyping/facetiming while Magnum is on a case or something and then having it cut to her for some stuff going down with her or Ethan (or just her preferably.) Maybe to set up that possible 4.02 kidnapping of Ethan... These Kenya scenes could also show-case how Ethan and Juliet are basically on the cusp of breaking up...

Juliet / Ethan long distance - Perhaps we get this for part of the season? I hope not, but depending on how they do it, this could be interesting. Maybe like Magnum starts dating someone else? Juliet realizes she’s jelly and that’s not right and breaks up with Ethan but doesn’t tell Magnum and he still thinks they’re long distancing and is dating this new girl? For the drama? IDK. This is not a fave but they might be able to do it to some effect if they want...

Magnum visiting Juliet in Kenya - no one’s been kidnapped and Magnum is just there. Hanging out. Making Juliet miss home. They’re go on safari and picnics and romp in the fields. Ethan is no where to be found. It’s basically a fluffy pre-getting together romantic get away. Maybe they solve a case. A cute one. Maybe for some reason Hiapo is there. And the lads. And the Ferrari...

Looking up and she’s there

Like the first episode Magnum is solving a case, consulting with Higgy. Then sudden she isn’t picking up. He’s getting worried. Then at the end when the case is solved, he’s all “I’m going to call Ethan, to see she’s okay.” But Rick is like “No need bro.” And he nods behind them and Juliet is walking into La Mariana. He couldn’t reach her because she was on a flight to Hawaii for the past 14 hours!

They look at each other and you can just see how much they missed each other. And then it cuts to black before we get their sure to have been epic hug. And that’s how 4.01 ends...

(Maybe we open with that hug in 4.02, because I want the Reunion Hug badly.)

Ethan who? 

So how fun would it be if season 4 just totally ignores the season 3 finale and Higgy is just back. No one is like “welcome back! how’s Ethan?” It’s just like Ethan never existed and we never mention what happened, how they broke up or that he even was part of the show and that she went with him, ever again.

(Because honestly we’re all quite tired of him, even if he got great hair and abs, so him being missing would just be like ‘okay whatever’)

I know they won’t do this. Wouldn’t really want it when there are so many other great fun things (and it would make feel 3.16 feel totally hollow for any future re-watches) and would not let us have a Miggy reunion. But it would be kind of amusing too. Like... Ethan Who? Nope. Let’s just pretend he didn’t even exist.

Things I don’t want (early season 4)

Dead or hurt Ethan (come on! we got one dead fiancé, let’s not add another one)

Ethan breaking up with Higgy (they can mutually decide but he can’t be the one doing the relationship ending, unless it’s made super duper clear he’s doing it because he can totally tell she has more feelings for Magnum. Which would not make sense unless it was something like M getting shot to save E and J or something.)

An Ethan/ Higgy engagement lasting more than 2 minutes

Magnum and the lads still not getting along (come on, we need them to be friends!)

TC/ Rick bringing up feels. Like a little hinting is fine. But just a bit. Don’t be too obvious even if this is going to be the Miggy season (and if it’s not going to be that, don’t have feelings talk at all. My poor heart can’t handle it!)

More visa issues/ Juliet still owning Robin’s Nest and being smug about it/ money issues (Yes. I would like her to use these six months to re-apply for her employment visa and just give Robin back Robin’s Nest. Because the money needing thing was not that fun of a plot line)

Rick and Susie having started dated off screen. They’re so cute. I want to see them being cute and their relationship developing!

What Are We Most Likely To See?

I’m not sure they will actually do a major part of 4.01-2 anywhere but Hawaii. When they’ve had episodes taking place in other locations around the world, there have often been jungle / Hawaii like which makes me think it’s all still filmed in Hawaii right? (correct me if I’m wrong.)

There was however some reason they sent Juliet off with Ethan. I also think there was a reason they had Juliet tell Ethan about MI6. Somehow it will be relevant in season 4. 

Probably early season 4.

I say early since thy won’t drag out Ethan/Higgy’s relationship for long next season. He needs to be used to further the Miggy plot a little more, then keeping him around much longer will simply impact the show negatively too much.

Because if we’re being honest like majority of people watch this show for the Magnum/Higgy dynamic. And I think they know that. (Even if people don’t ship, they still want those two on screen, not Juliet and Ethan.) 

And with the new NCSI Hawaii show coming to film there...I don’t know it that bodes well for season 5 or not. I think they realize they have to move forward.  Treat season 4 as a possible series finale. And that starts with 4.01.

So I’m torn. 

What was the point of Africa if we don’t get an episode or some scenes from there? What’s the point of a separation between our main leads if we don’t get a great reunion? What’s the point of Ethan if not to bring Magnum and Higgy closer together? Magnum going ‘we are currently just friends’ if that’s not going to change or be an issue in the early parts of season 4?

But also, I kind of just want to get back to normal. Hawaii. Miggy banter. Crazy not quite making sense cases. No Ethan. The guys hanging. Kumu being her bad ass self. The Ferrari being red and shiny. Jin being wacky.

So perhaps just having the season start with Magnum being excited Higgy is coming home would be...fine? 

Picture this. 

He’s just hanging with the guys at La Mariana. 

It’s only been four months. 

They’re all like “so four months? Not six? Why she come home early?” and Magnum is all “I guess we’ll find out soon” and gets up to go to the airport to get her. We get a Miggy reunion hug. Some what’s the same, what’s different feeling out moments.

Anyways, they get a case, Magnum try to get her to talk about what happened with her coming home early and at the end of the episode she’s all “I realized he wasn’t the one.” They give each other heart eyes. And we’re just back to normal Magnum PI fun and games (and starting at your currently only friends business partner like s/he’s hung the moon and the stars...) for 4.02. 

I mean that would work... but it would also leave a little to be desired. Feel like some lost opportunities. You know? 

What are your thoughts on openings / season 4 starts? What possibilities do you see/ would like explored?

[stellar-imagines]

HEADCANONS REQUEST: ❝S/O with Meltdowner quirk, artificial arm and eye.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta, Takami Keigo ]

「Headcanons of Midoriya, Aizawa and Hawks with S/O who has a Meltdowner quirk, artificial eye and arm from past encounters with villains.」

MIDORIYA IZUKU

♤ You never knew he’s a science nerd until he questions the principles of your quirk. It’s quite a complex quirk if you do say so yourself. However, talking about your quirk is actually exciting, especially with someone like Midoriya who’s always willing to listen to whatever you’re saying. This guy, as usual, is jotting down notes at the speed of light which makes you wonder whether his writing is still legible. Even though you try to keep it as simple as possible by telling him what you could do with your quirk, like being able to melt through thick metal walls, block shockwaves, disintegrate objects and make a shield ― he seems more interested in how it works. So, get some refreshments ready and prepare yourself mentally cause this is going to take a while.

♤ This guy is still a nerd and nothing can change that. It doesn’t apply to your quirk only. He’s super interested in your artificial eye and arm. You were given the freedom to customize your artificial body parts, so you often sneak of to the Department of Support. One of your weaknesses is that you needed to take a certain time to aim with your quirk but your artificial eye made it easy for you to aim as it allows you to track movements. Originally there’s a limit to how much power you can use but thanks to your new arm, you were able to go beyond your limits when using your ability.

♤ He trains with you everyday and helps you make up for your weaknesses. You like to test your output during training session but you were always careful with it since the backlash and blow away your body and break your arm. Having a quirk like this really intimidates people because it’s capable of destroying a person in seconds. When Midoriya watches you melt through even the thickest of metal, he’s mentally taking note not to piss you off. But of course, you wouldn’t hurt this boy, he’s too precious.

♤ Oh but the way he looks at you after every mission you come back from. You’re usually just tired and there’s nothing you’d like but to lay down on the bed with him right now. He would be all over your face, babbling about how cool you looked in TV, beating up all the villains with your quirk. Midoriya could go on for hours, just praising and rambling on about your most recent success. You have to shut him up with a kiss and thank him with a smile before you could continue with your plan to laze around with your lover.

AIZAWA SHOUTA

☆ Aizawa isn’t born with an offensive quirk and he’s never the type to stand out. He would be someone who supports instead of leading the attack. He’s super amazed with what your quirk is capable of, going as far as to say that you’re a destructive hero. This guy knows people without actually meeting them because he actually keeps up with news. He learns that you’ve actually lost an arm and eye from a villain attack a year ago. His respect towards you grew when you continue to work as a hero, with an artificial arm and eye which makes up for your weaknesses.

☆ Genuinely amazed at the amount of power you hold in your hands. Your quirk was very destructive and honestly, with your quirk, you could blow up an entire city if you wanted to. Of course you couldn’t do that because as a hero, you have to keep the causalities and damage to surrounding structures to a minimum. He’s definitely the guy on the sidelines telling you not to cause any more damage and destroy the surrounding buildings. But you end up destroying nearby buildings and most of your money goes to repairs.

☆ Super proud of you and is very secretive of that. Aizawa had the TV on once during his day off. Originally he planned on making himself some coffee until he changed to the news channel to see that there was a villain attack. And what’s more, when he hears someone mention your name, he forgets his coffee. He would be at his couch, watching intently like a kid watching their anime. You bet this guy is cheering for you to beat up some villain ass and by the end of the battle, he will be super proud, like a dad watching their daughter win some sports festival. If only you knew he was usually like this.

☆ He is a very attentive lover. Aizawa pays close attention to you, he’s the one reminding you to check your limbs regularly and accompanies you to get them repaired if there’s anything wrong with them. If by any chance, you do your own repairs, he’s there to help you despite not knowing much. There were the days where you would have to rest your arm and can’t really do anything much, he will be taking care of you, buying you food and all that. He might not look like it but he is one great caretaker, he’s usually lazing around the house but when you’re injured or something, he’s up and doing everything he can for you.

HAWKS (TAKAMI KEIGO)

♡ Bird man never realized he’s into strong women until he laid his eyes on you for the first time. As a Pro Hero who’s rising in the ranks steadily, it was no surprise that Hawks have heard news of you before. This guy thought you would’ve retired after that one mission that cost your eye and arm. But look and behold, you were alive, kicking and patrolling like usual. Hawks is amazed that you’re still working as a hero instead of taking a break from being a hero. You should’ve seen the look on his face when you used your quirk to completely disintegrate the car that the villain threw your way. He was in love and awe.

♡ Low-key thinks that you look super hot when you’re using your quirk. And of course, being the cheesy guy he is, he will make stupid pick up lines and puns related to your quirk. He’s the type of guy who would get to know you through an unorthodox method. You both would coincidentally bump into each other during patrol or a villain attack. He flirts openly with you, saying cheesy things about how you melted his heart or something along those lines.

♡ Hawks has this tendency to mess around with someone. This is done in various methods, whether by teasing, making stupid jokes or small little harmless pranks. He tends to mess around with you for the sake of getting an interesting reaction from you. Of course, you didn’t mind because you thought it was kind of endearing. But there are just those times where he can’t read the atmosphere and decide to pester you when you’re in a bad mood. You would threaten to burn his wings off with your quirk. If he chooses not to believe you, you would hold your quirk in a ball-shaped stationary form to show how serious you are.

♡ Helps you with repairing your limbs! But usually he uses this as an excuse to touch you. He’s not that smart with gadgets and you should know that more than anyone else. Even so, Hawks likes to keep you company while you work on repairs. He will occasionally disturb you to gain your attention. When he’s feeling extra generous, he would make some coffee or tea for you. Not only that, he might actually bring some food for you though it’s all take out because he can’t cook for shit.

Total: 1290 words Published: 22.08.2020

We’re looking into expanding our list by adding two more fandoms. Please help us by casting your vote in our ongoing poll ― CAST YOUR VOTE HERE!

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ In case you all didn’t notice, we’re both Raildex nerds  (っ˘ω˘ς ) Mugino’s abilities are quite complex if you ask us but we did all we can! So happy to hear you loved our previous headcanons! Hope you like this one too! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting! It’s really nice to know that there are people out there who enjoys the Raildex series. Hope you enjoyed this, anon! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter Fifteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 10.7k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

uhhh long ass chapter jfc

–

You tap the end of the spoon against the table, “Maybe more gasoline?”

Beetee gives you a look, “I’ve engineered these perfectly--”

“I’m literally from District Two, I manufactured weapons. Just add a bit more gas, and see what happens, it can’t hurt, can it?”

Beetee readjusts the glasses on his face, “I suppose not.” he gets to work, and you scoop some of the carrots onto your spoon, trying not to make a face when you force them down your throat. They’ve gotten cold from how long you’ve been stalling, “You’ve made molotov arrows before?”

“Well…” you make a face, and he turns his eyes to you, “I wouldn’t say that. I’ve… experimented that’s for sure.”

Gale laughs, “What does that mean?”

“It means I’ve illegally made weapons and sometimes started bush fires because of it,” you laugh, “And I’ve never been caught, either.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be in here.” Beetee mutters.

You roll your eyes, “As if I would willingly do work now. Just telling you to add more gas was a bore.”

Beetee screws the top back onto the arrow, being careless with it to see if it’ll explode or whatever. Which means that you should definitely put some distance between you and the psychopath here, you’re not too fond of being inside of a molotov. No matter how small that arrow is, there will be a ton of fire.

“Give it a shot.” you motion at Gale, “Seriously.”

“It won’t set the studio on fire?”

“You’re talking to the two engineers, here. Go ahead before I do it myself.”

Gale picks up the crossbow, and then takes the arrow that Beetee is offering him. While he prepares everything, you swivel around to face Gale, while Beetee has to turn the entire wheelchair to see.

“I’ve been trying to make a trident for Finnick.” Beetee begins, the two of you watch Gale prepare, the people on the other end of the room have fire extinguishers ready to put the fire out as soon as the arrow is fired.

“Don’t make it look like an actual trident, keep the design as close as possible to the one he had inside of the arena.” you scoop up another spoonful of carrots, “And make it hollow in the middle, it’ll be easier to move around--and you can make it compatible that way too.”

“Ready?” Gale asks.

“We’ve been ready.” you eat the cold, slimy carrots.

Gale fires the arrow, and right when it hits the bullseye, it explodes into fire. The entire target, the wall behind it, mostly the floor and some get onto the ceiling too. The crew runs forward, putting out the fire before it can spread across the entire room.

You look at Beetee, “See? Not too shabby.”

“Know any ways to make them waterproof?”

“Wax, water rolls right off of it. Don’t lay it on too thick, and you’ll be just fine.” You set the empty tray onto the table, “

“They should have sent you down here sooner.” Gale says, coming back over, “Imagine how much faster all of this would have been made.”

“Beetee would have gotten fed up with me, if he isn’t already.” you say, stretching. 

“You’re not too bad to be around.” 

“You only like me because I make your weapon engineering much easier. I’m able to catch your mistakes before you even make them.” you tuck your legs in.

He ignores what you said, moving on to Gale, “How’s Katniss doing?”

Gale doesn’t give much of an answer, “Recovering.”

“Let me guess, she’s still mad at you?” you raise your eyebrows. For this, he tells you to shut up. You shrug, getting back to the sketch you were working on for your own personal weapon, “Hey, if you can’t see how out of line you were, then that’s your deal.”

“How was I out of line?”

You place the sketchbook on your knee, “Dude, you called her fiance weak for doing what he could to stay alive. Obviously you two are still pretty close after that, but I wouldn’t have made a comment like that.” you pause for a moment, looking at Gale, “Then again, you don’t know what it’s like to be under a microscope, you can run your mouth all you want, because you were nothing but a coal miner.”

Gale practically rolls his eyes, “I know what it’s like, Katniss had to start calling me her cousin.”

“Katniss was the one being watched, don’t flatter yourself.” you go back to what you were doing.

“She’s right.” Beetee chips in, “(Y/n), I mean.”

“Right.”

The sound of boots on cement makes you look up, expecting Gale to be the one walking away. He doesn’t normally like to take shit from you or Beetee. Coming down here is like a safe place, allowing him to vent and blow steam when he gets to test out the new fancy weapons.

Gale stands right where he was before, which means that it’s someone else. And since Beetee can’t walk, you turn around in the chair to see who it is.

It’s Finnick. His hands are in his pockets, with a gleeful smile on his face, “Good afternoon.”

Gale is just as suspicious as you are, “What are you up to?”

“What was I up to.” he corrects, coming to a stop behind your chair, “It’s a surprise.”

Beetee makes a face, and then wheels himself around so that he’s facing the table again. As he gets back to work, you resume critiquing Gale, and Finnick finds where he wants to be.

“Gale, don’t get me wrong, I can sorta see where you’re coming from, but you need to see it from our perspective too.” you drop your leg, “Let’s compare you to Peeta, since you were doing that already by saying you’d never say what you said.

“He had absolutely no clue what the fuck was going on. Peeta didn’t know that there was a plan to get him and Katniss out of the arena, he didn’t know that Coin was planning on using Katniss as a symbol. The only things he did know was what the Capitol fed him to get him on their side.

“And if you still can’t see eye to eye with it, imagine a gun pointed to Katniss’ head. If you so much as step out of line in a way that Snow doesn’t like, he’ll shoot her. It’s not his family, friend or girlfriend that he’s killing, it’s yours. And if you don’t cooperate after Katniss, he’s grabbing the next dearest thing to you.” you lean back in the chair, “And before you say shit, Snow literally did that to me twice. First was right after I won my games and he killed my entire family, and the second time was when we found Tanith dead in a chair. It’s a little different for Tanith, because she was already dead, but he still tried to use her against me.”

“Okay, but what were they threatening Peeta with?”

“His life, for starters.” Finnick says, “And likely his family too.”

Gale doesn’t say anything after that.

“How’s this design?” You offer the sketchbook for Beetee, and he takes it.

“We could probably start this now.” Beetee says, “Mind doing something for Finnick, too?”

“Sure.”

He hands it back, but Finnick takes it before you’re able to grab a hold of it. Sighing, you look up at Finnick, watching his face as he looks over the page, “These are swords.”

“Sai’s.” you correct.

Finnick gives you a look, “But it says right here--”

“--that it’s basically a sword, yes, I know. Normally they’re used to disarm someone--as I showed you before. But I want some that are actually sharp. Blunt force trauma is fun, but what’s even more fun is spilling someone’s guts in front of them.”

Finnick hands the book back, “Sword.”

“Sure.” you cross your legs, “What are you here for, other to annoy me?”

“Keeping an eye on you three for the next couple of hours.” Finnick pulls up a chair of his own, mirroring your stance.

“Sounds exciting.”

Everything falls back into rhythm. Beetee goes back to tinkering on arrows, having Gale use the decoys. And the times he’s not shooting arrows, he’s sitting in a chair talking to you guys. You cough up a couple of sketches for Beetee, hoping that it’ll be good enough.

You might be the one from District Two, but that doesn’t mean you actually put things together. The legal age to actually get into the warehouses is eighteen, and since you went into the games at sixteen and won, you never really had to work. You’ve sat on money for your entire life. The only people that worked were your parents, aunts and uncles and some of your cousins.

Those same cousins taught you how to put things together before your games--obviously. During family get togethers, you’d all disappear for a little while, which is when they’d take the chance. They always thought it was so cool to pass on forbidden knowledge, and have it all be a secret between you guys.

They had this secret stash of gadgets inside of a log, and they’d fuck around with it until it turned into something dangerous. Honestly, the first thing you learned from them was the molotov, and when you threw it on a rock, it exploded and the dead grass around it caught fire.

Cue you all scooping the gadgets into your shirts and taking off behind the houses to get as far as possible. Your older cousin had a backup spot not too far away, you dumped all the shit there and got back to the house in record time. Before the firefighters had even left their stations.

It’s a wonder why you weren’t caught, cause that wasn’t the first time that area specifically had been set on fire, and it wouldn’t be the last either. The firefighters definitely had an idea of why it would always set ablaze, but never pursued it. After a while, they started to monitor the place on extremely hot days, thinking that it was the sun that was starting the fires.

If only they had known that it was a bunch of teenagers doing that shit for fun.

After a while, Beetee gets tired of the arrows and starts over to the crew to begin making the sai’s. While they’re heating up the metal, he gets to making the hilt.

“I feel like we’re doing more work than we have to.” you look at Beetee.

“Do you want it to be fucked up, or do you want it to be done right the first time?” He raises his glasses above his eyes when he looks right back at you.

“The first time.” you sigh.

When you get back to work, Finnick moves in closer, curious as to how you’re designing his new weapon. Every now and then he’ll point out the practicalities, and weighing in on how he would rather it be built. 

“This doesn’t even look like a trident anymore.” you hold the journal away from your face, and turn it so it’s long-ways since the entire trident spans over both pages, “It’s basically the opposite.”

“But think of it this way.” Finnick reaches over, touching where the blades of the trident are, “Initial stab, right? But the rest of this does more damage.”

There’s a spear point at the top of the trident, which isn’t the problem. That’s pretty normal when it comes to the design. However, instead of wanting all the other blades facing up and towards it, he wants it downwards.

“And you can even make it compatible!” Finnick grins.

“At least we agree on one thing.” You pass the journal to him, “Go ahead and show Beetee, he’s the one in charge.”

Finnick goes over, and it’s basically halfway across the room, since Beetee is hovering over the crew’s work like a hawk. He wasn’t playing around when he said that he would like it to be perfect the first time around.

“Finnick’s into you.” Gale says.

“You say that like he’s not my soulmate.” you give Gale a look, “Also, I’m not into Finnick.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a teenager and I don’t date people right after they broke up with their girlfriends.” you turn back to Finnick to see that he’s discussing the weapon with Beetee and a crew member.

“If there was no Annie, would you have dated him then?”

You squint, “No.”

Gale laughs, but doesn’t say anything because Finnick is heading your guys’ way again. He drops the journal in Beetee’s workspace on his way over, “Beetee will start it tonight.”

“Cool.” you get up, picking up the lunch tray, “Am I free to leave now?”

“Yes,” Finnick says, but he makes a point to stay in front of both you and Gale. 

“See ya later, Beetee!” you shout, “Send someone if you need my help.”

He waves, and then goes back to hovering.

Finnick starts up the staircase first, and Gale walks beside you, “Any progress on Peeta?”

Gale rolls his eyes, you can feel it, “Same as he was before. I saw him before coming here.”

“Katniss still saying no?” you look over.

Gale nods.

“That’s reasonable, I wouldn’t want to go near him either…” you trail off for a moment, and then laugh to yourself.

Finnick glances over his shoulder curiously, “What is it?”

You chuckle a bit, “Out of everyone, I’m definitely last on the list of people he wants to see.”

“Why’s that?”

Your smile is small as you look at your feet, rather than up at Finnick, “I nearly killed Peeta.”

“After the birds? I know--” Finnick says.

“No, after. After you had been pulled out of the arena, did I tell either of you that story?”

Gale says no, which is expected, but Finnick thinks about it before answerings, “We talked about emotion when you first got here, and how intense it was.”

“Well, after I left the lightning tree, my real goal was to go downhill and straight for the cornucopia. I thought that if the jungle were to burn, I would need to take my chances in the middle. On the way, I found a livid Peeta, and a strangely calm Johanna.” you smile, “Peeta started screaming at me instead, and Johanna urged me not to do anything.

“But then Peeta backed me into a rock, so when I got up, I punched him twice. Kicked him a couple of times while he was down, and then Johanna stepped in--” Finnick has slowed down now, he watches you, “--and naturally I knocked her out with a single right hook, since she’s… weak to say the least. She hit her head on a rock on the way down, and I thought I’d finish her off later.

“As for Peeta, it was just him and I.” the smile develops into a grin, “I was about to rip him apart--and I mean minutes from doing it. But then the peacekeepers came and I thought that it would be better to leave the situation as it was.”

“You’re… sadistic.” Gale says.

“I’ve heard it all before.” you say, looking at Finnick.

“At least you didn’t kill them.” Finnick says.

“Peeta knew that I was about to. Doesn’t matter if I did it or not.”

Gale laughs now, “You should go visit him to see what he says.”

“He’d probably get mad at me for not killing him when I had the chance. I’m surprised he didn’t strangle me in that hovercraft.”

“The tracker jacker venom fucked with his head, he probably barely recognized you.” Gale says.

At the top of the staircase, Finnick stops you, “We’ll see you later, Gale.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m going to see Boggs.”

You salute as a joke, getting an eye roll in return. Finnick purposely waits until Gale is gone, and then he moves out of your way, “You’re getting better.”

“At making people like me?” you ask, giving Finnick a look, “You know, a genius once told me that I’m not as dislikable as I think.”

Finnick raises his eyebrows, “A genius you say?”

“Maybe not a genius.” you laugh, and Finnick joins in, “So what were you up to?”

“You’ll see in a couple of hours.”

“Is that why we aren’t getting off on the floor we normally do?” you stare at your feet.

“We’re heading straight for the medical floor to Johanna.”

You stop on the stairs, and Finnick gets a couple of steps above you, “Did you not just hear my whole story?”

“The worst Johanna will do is run her mouth about the fact that you didn’t kill her when you had the chance. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask one of the nurses. We’ve heard her speech a couple of times now.”

“Then can I opt out and go to the dorm instead?” you start up the stairs again.

“You’re really going to leave me to talk to Johanna?”

Your eyebrows draw together, “You’re the one that wants to see her!”

“Come on, we see Johanna and then we go to the dorm right after, I promise.” Finnick says.

You hold out your pinky for Finnick, and with a slight chuckle, he pinky promises you. The two of you resume your journey up the stairs, and then he says, “Unless we talk for too long.”

You press your lips together, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. He laughs anyway.

When the two of you reach Johanna’s room, you hang by the door, not really wanting to go inside. You don’t like the look of the room, much less the idea of being back inside of it. Ever since you’ve been granted the freedom, you’ve made a point of not coming back to the hospital--or infirmary--floor, no matter the reason.

The other day, you cut your hand on a blade down in the workshop. The crew had wanted to call someone down to come and take care of you, and you barely stopped them in time. Over your dead body, would you be brought back here to sit and wallow in white for a couple of days.

Especially over something as childish as a cut. So, you found the first aid kit, cleaned out the wound and Beetee stitched it up for you. The crew was a little surprised how calm you were during the entire procedure but the only thing you had to say was ‘high pain tolerance’ after all your years of bullshit.

So being back here makes you nervous. As if someone will pop out from one of the walls and tie you down to a bed for absolutely no reason. You’re perfectly healthy, and the nurses and doctors knew this. Even after you had tests that came back negative for poison in your system, you were required to stay.

Finnick and Johanna’s conversation is surprisingly normal and boring. There was absolutely no reason for you to tag along, except for Finnick’s own request. The only reason why you’re here is to be nice.

As if Finnick’s read your mind, he looks at you, “(Y/n) been helping Beetee out in the workshop lately, designing weapons.”

Johanna’s eyes drag over to you, bored of it already, “She’s being helpful for once?”

You stare at her.

“She’s done quite a lot, Johanna.” Finnick says, looking back at her, “She’s the one that opened the conversation about rescuing you and the others from the Capitol.”

“For her own benefit.” Johanna laughs, “Because she can’t stand being alone. It’s why she’s kept you around so long, you know? Not because she likes you, but because she needs another soul to harvest. She’s like the fucking grim reaper.” she looks at you now, “A heartless murderer.”

You take a deep breath, and then a smile spreads over your face, “I should have killed you when I had the chance. At least then, there would be one less leech on the morphling supply.” you spit, “You deserve everything that Snow gave you, the waterboarding, the near-drowning. It’s a shame that he only kept you alive so you’d suffer and become nothing but another downer on everyone around you.”

Finnick’s head whips in your direction, clearly not expecting the outburst. You’ve been so good for so long, but there’s something about Johanna that just gets you steaming. 

“I should have stomped your head into that fucking rock in front of Peeta.” you seethe, “And then I should’ve beaten Peeta to death, because you two weren’t nearly worth sacrificing my life over.” you shake your head, “You’re nothing but another morphling addict. Another victor that couldn’t take the fucking heat. If I were you, I’d just kill myself from how embarrased I’d be.”

Johanna’s been smiling at you the entire time, like she wanted this sort of reaction, and so you finish it off, “It’s probably how Blight felt too.” 

Her smile drops, and her hand is reaching towards the needles in her arms before her feet have even hit the ground. You stand your ground, allowing Finnick to get her to stop because she does some real damage to her veins.

“(Y/n)--go!” Finnick’s angry, and he glares at you over his shoulder.

“My fucking pleasure.” you spit, leaving the doorway.

It was worth it. Every word that left your mouth was fucking worth it. Being nice to people is such a fucking chore, especially when it’s towards people who don’t deserve it.

You stand in the stairwell for a moment, thinking about where you’d want to go. But there’s really no place that’s safe if Finnick comes looking for you. The workshop and dorm are an obvious place, as well as the stream you stumbled upon. He’ll check with Boggs and Gale--and there’s no one else here that likes you.

You hate it here.

You thought you would be able to make this place feel like a real home and maybe even like it, but it’s not worth it. This whole place isn’t worth it to you.

Everything inside of you is a frenzy. 

You have to go home.

You start up the staircase, knowing that seeing Plutarch and finding a ride would be the place to start. He might not be happy about it, but there’s really no need for you here. You’re not doing anything besides designing personal weapons that Beetee likes and doesn’t like. 

Occasionally you’re genuinely helpful with dumb shit, but that’s the extent of it. Other than that, you’re miserable. The freedom you have isn’t actual freedom. 

You hop up the last couple of steps, and round the corner to the door to the control room. You practically throw it open, nearly letting it hit the wall, when your hand appears between the crack to stop it.

At your appearance, a few people look over. The only eyes who stick are Boggs, Gale, Haymitch and Plutarch.

“Where’s Finnick?” Gale asks.

“Not his owner,” you go down the steps, eyes on Plutarch, “I want a ride to District Two. Your next hovercraft is mine to take.”

Boggs stands up, crossing his arms, “What about the workshop?”

“Boring, Beetee has it under control.”

“And Finnick?” Haymitch asks, “I thought you were just liking it here--”

“I’m a liar.” 

Gale sighs, “Tell us what happened.”

“Johanna and I are going to end up killing each other the next time we come face to face.” your eyes land on Plutarch to see he has an eye on his watch, “So unless you feel like cleaning up a dead body, I’ll take one free ticket to District Two.”

“The next hovercraft is leaving in fifteen minutes.” Plutarch looks up now, “I’ll call in and let them know you’re going.”

“Does Finnick know you’re doing this?” Gale asks, “He’s going to be upset if we have to tell him--”

“It’s his fault for getting attached to me.” your face is serious, and then the smile spreads over your face, because of the irony of that statement. After what Johanna had said… “He’s your problem now, good luck.”

You go up the steps, heading right out the door you came in. You can’t take the staircase to the top, so you make your way to the elevator instead. You press the button, waiting patiently with a smile on your face.

The hovercrafts that they’re using to get the supplies to and from District Two are the slow type. District Thirteen is in no rush to get the crates there, so it won’t be a surprise to you if it takes more than just a couple of hours for you to get there. Or if it makes stops along the way.

The elevator arrives, you pull up the safety bar, and then step inside, pulling it back down. You punch the top floor button with your thumb, then you go to stare as the floors disappear beneath your feet.

At least back home you don’t have to act and lie for the happiness of others. Especially if your first and only stop is going to be your house in victor’s village. And if you need groceries, it looks like you’ll be hunting for food to eat. Or you might actually have to go into town and ransack the already destroyed buildings.

Most of the people that used to own the shops are probably dead, or they won’t be returning back home for a while. The entirety of victor’s village is going to be a graveyard--there might even still be rotting bodies inside of the houses. If the smell is too unbearable, you could always bury the corpses yourself.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

At the top, there’s someone waiting on the ramp. You don’t bother waiting for them to tell you to hurry it up, you start jogging immediately. The faster you get on, the faster you can take off.

“I’m ready.” you say when you get to the ramp.

“Good, take a seat and strap in.” the man follows you in.

--

The whole district is in ruins.

The last time you were here, everything seemed to be in near perfect condition, apart from the obvious looting that had taken place. The broken windows, and the wood splinters in the gravel could be easily looked over. But it’s much harder to see this place as it once was.

Most stores and houses that were made out of wood, and had been passed down from generation to generation have been burned to ashes or their cement flooring. There’s nothing left of them, not the furniture inside, and definitely not the foundation. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that they were vacant lots.

If they couldn’t burn, then they were bombed. Chunks of cement and brick have now joined the mixture in the gravel. The roofs have long since caved in, and just one gust of wind makes the walls shudder. All it would take is one more bomb dropped in this area, and it all would come crashing down. 

The air around you is hardly breathable too. Before you had stepped off the hovercraft you were given a mask--not the same gas mask that you’d used during the tribute center invasion--and a pair of sunglasses that would help you see through the debris and smoke.

It’s almost like fog, but so much worse. It’s smoke from fires that can’t be put out, and it’s from the bombs that are from your own district. The loyalists and the rebels are still fighting over this place. Katniss’ visit here hadn’t done much good, in fact you’d say that it made it a lot worse.

As you wander through the streets towards victor’s village, you come up with a lousy plan that’ll likely get you killed. 

Coin had thought that sending Katniss here was a good idea, but it wasn’t by any means. Katniss got a bullet to her ribs, which bruised a ton of them, and put her right back into a hospital bed. They clearly didn’t think about what would happen if you mix people who don’t mind the games, with someone who’s leading a rebellion.

You’ve seen the speech, and as heartfelt as it was, it’s not what they want to hear. 

Here’s the way you saw it at first; this girl from the poorest part of District Twelve is kicking up a rebellion that’ll likely destroy the system that’s making District Two rich, and the favorite. District Two thinks that they’re going to get everything taken away from them. Their houses, nice clothes and furniture, the good paying jobs.

You would all much rather send in the two kids a year--mostly because your children are prepared ahead of time, and therefore the career districts have nothing to lose--than take the risk of getting everything taken away. The Capitol absolutely adores you guys, with all that you supply them. 

So, instead of having the girl that’s leading the rebellion try and convince the loyalists that they’re on the wrong side. You have someone who’s lived in the same luxury as them do it instead. How is Katniss supposed to understand how you all feel? She despised the games, while the rest of you adored it.

The outsider districts don’t understand the need for luxury and favoritism. They’ve lived on the hated side of the Capitol for a long time. The Capitol expects them to underperform in the games, so that’s why they don’t ever see the spotlight until they get a winner.

Anyway, you’re going to get to your house, change into something that says ‘living in luxury’ and then march your way to the justice building. There, you won’t ask for any sort of protection but an escort there instead. You won’t carry any weapons, you won’t pull on a bulletproof vest.

If they shoot you, then they’ll have made their choice very clear.

The gate entrance to the village is all sorts of broken. You barely push the metal door open, and the entire thing falls apart in your hands. You have to prop it up against the fence, being sure that it won’t fall over before you move on to go inside. Then, you waste no time with a quick jog through.

The fountain in the first part of the village is dry. The cement is no longer grey, it’s black from the amount of fire that must have washed through here. On the tiles that line the bottom, there’s melted coins. You’re tempted to reach in and pick one out when you realize just how bad of an idea that is.

You continue down the stone brick path after that, taking in note of every house that you pass. The doors are slightly ajar, most windows seem to be shattered, and a couple are burned down to the foundation. Most still stand though, Sorcha, Enobaria, Brutus, Tanith and Zavian’s seem to be in good condition.

As for Lyme, her house is completely gone. You have an idea that it might be because of the fact that she’s helping the rebels, and some of the loyalists must’ve gotten behind their lines to come and burn hers down specifically. As for the others, there must be a bigger story behind it.

As you come into the third part of the neighborhood, you cross your fingers as you hope it’s not like Lyme’s. You just want a moment inside of a clean house, to be able to go upstairs and find out that there’s running water. Then you’ll take a shower, get dressed in fancy clothing and put on makeup as if there isn’t hellfire around you.

It takes you a moment to find it, because all the houses in this section are still standing. And then you realize that your house is the only one that looks fresh. It hasn’t been touched by all the ash and smoke, it’s still as bright white as the day you received it. Perfect condition.

No windows are broken, the wood and cement show no signs of it being on fire at any point in time. The door is shut tight, a little stuck so you have to rattle the handle until it comes loose. You swing the door wide open, standing in the doorway as you wait to see a mess.

But it’s clean. Of course, the house has collected dust, but there’s no blood. There’s no broken vases, or stuffing all over the floor. It’s how you left it. 

You shut the door behind you, locking it for good measure. As you go inside, you can’t help but to look around and gape like you’re on a house tour. Nothing has been touched, which is the part that baffles you the most. Both the inside and outside are great.

For a moment, you’re not sure why you’re so surprised that nothing had happened--apart from the fact that the whole neighborhood is disgusting. And then you remember the last time you came home from the games. With the house torn apart with dead bodies frozen in time.

“He seriously fucked me up, didn’t he?” you ask, laughing to yourself. 

The house does smell pretty bad though, and the scent only gets stronger the more you head towards the kitchen. You have to plug your nose, strictly breathing in and out through your mouth, blinking away the tears that form in your eyes. It’s just so strong…

Going through the doorway, you take your time to look for anything that might be off. There is nothing, but you’re sure that it was coming from here specifically, and the second that you test the water with a breath of air through your nose, you gag. You go back to breathing through your mouth, even though you can taste the toxicity.

It’s not gas, that’s for sure. It’s something else…

The kitchen, the smell, the fact you haven’t been here--it’s the fridge. The food inside of the fridge and the cupboards are likely rotting. You can picture the mold in your mind already, and you shiver a little. Deciding that it’s better not to investigate further, you head straight upstairs instead.

On the way to your room, you can’t help but to pop open the doors and take a look inside. It’s just the paranoia now that’s making you do this. You don’t think you’ll find anyone in here, it’s just the thought of someone maybe hiding and waiting for you. A house like yours shouldn’t be in perfect condition, not after everything that’s happened.

And yet, there is nothing. Not even in your master bedroom, and not in the bathroom either. Despite this, you also lock your bedroom door, stripping on the way to the bathroom. And when you get inside of there, you lock that one too. For a second, the water in the shower runs cold, but then it turns warm.

While you let it heat up a little more, you take a look at yourself in the mirror for the first time in a couple of weeks. The mirrors that they have in District Thirteen are practically useless, they might as well not have them at all. You can barely see your face in them, and they’re permanently fogged over. At first, you thought that there was a protective film, until you realized that they were just shit quality.

Your fingers dance along the scars that cover you from head to toe. You turn your body to get a better angle, only to be disappointed when they continue. You force yourself to lean onto the counter, even though you’re so incredibly uncomfortable now, but curiosity is what’s fueling it all.

Then you’re able to see that the spider bite scars exist on your face too. They’re faint though, not too noticeable. What is noticeable, is the fact that there’s a scar that’s right beneath your eye. It’s so small that you can see it, even with you leaning over the counter.

You wipe the fog off the mirror, hopping onto the counter. You’re basically pressed against the mirror with how you’re seated as you desperately try to see what the fuck is beneath your eye. Wiping the mirror again, you take your chance to see.

C.S.

Your face twists as you back up, trying to think of who has those initials. Much less who would leave it on you like they’re marking their territory. You slide off the counter, rubbing beneath your eye, wishing that it’ll just go away, but it won’t.

Then it clicks, and you almost wish it hadn’t.

Coriolanus Snow.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, mouth hanging open as you watch the fog take over the mirror again, and your naked figure is covered up as a result.

He marked you. Snow fucking marked you like you’re his pet.

Your hand has swiped the vase off the counter before you’ve realized it. It isn’t until it’s shattered, when you’re jumping out of your skin. Even then, you’re still captivated by the amount of rage that’s running through your veins.

“Motherfucker!” you yell, digging your nail into the spot, gritting your teeth when it hurts. But it has to go. It has to be defaced. You won’t be seen as his. You don’t belong to Snow.

It’s a relief when your bare nail breaks skin. Though, more pain spikes in that one spot, and even in your eye a little bit. You lean on the counter, squeezing your eyes shut and giving yourself a moment to recover before you head into the shower.

You can’t fucking believe this.

--

You had always told yourself that you would be saving this dress for an occasion that you’d never be able to replicate. No weddings, funerals or parties. No victory tour, no get together, no reaping. You had to save it for something that would be groundbreaking, something that would change the game altogether.

At first, you didn’t want to pick it up for even this. Then you remembered that you have a chance of dying, and thought that was an event you’d never be able to replicate. Because you’d be dead.

And now that you’re walking to the justice buildings, holding the dress up so that it doesn’t get caught in the gravel and what lies inside of you, you’re beginning to see that you’ve got to make it count. Not the dress, but this entire encounter. If they don’t end up killing you, they’re definitely not going to let you come back again. Not peacefully, at least.

All you have to do is make them hesitate. Make them think for the rebel’s side for a second. That’s all you need. A moment of apprehension that they’ll never be able to take back. And since you’re pretty good at playing devil's advocate, this will be a walk in the park.

Seeing a sudden blast of dust and dirt heading your way, you make a home behind a building, aiming the umbrella you’re holding towards the corner that’s closest to you. It takes a moment before the dust storm comes through. The rocks pelt the plastic, and they attack your bare legs.

Since the umbrella is see-through, you’re able to tell when it dies down. You don’t wait to make sure that it’s over completely, because you never know when another gust will roll on in. At some point in time, you recognize the streets that the scouting group had brought you through, so you take that carefully.

You’re still fairly surprised that Paylor and Lyme hadn’t taken your statement of a survey group into consideration. And if they did, then that didn’t last as long as you thought it would. It’s literally only been two to three weeks since you were here last.

You guess that just means that they can’t spare the people as much as they could before. Which says a lot--that they’re losing the battle they swore that they’d be able to win. Coin said in one of her speeches that it wouldn’t be easy, and it would take a while. And here you are, thinking that you’ll be able to change their minds in a day.

“Watch this.” you smile to yourself.

You go around a corner, only to stop dead in your tracks. Standing right in front of you are some pretty armored people, holding a gun pointed straight at your chest. 

“State your name and business.”

“I see Lyme’s upgraded her shitty guards.” you give him a smile, “(Y/n) Rosecelli.”

He lowers the gun, “You’re supposed to be in District Thirteen.”

“It’s not as glamorous as it seems.” you say, continuing your way down the alley, “Quite boring. Is Lyme in the justice building?”

“Yes, I can bring--”

“I’ve got it.” you cut him off, leaving him behind you.

“I wouldn’t recommend going that way.”

“Whatever!” you shout, going right out.

The steps to the building are pretty wrecked, but there’s just enough stone for you to be able to go up them. You hike the dress up a little higher, stomping your heels when you step, as you try to get the gravel and glass off your shoes. The people standing outside the building seem confused at first.

“Excuse me.” you say, moving right past them as you head through the doors.

You take the stairs up, still having an iron grip on the dress. You won’t let it down until you’re standing in front of rebels. You swear on everything.

You pass a third set of guards on your way inside of the meeting room that they had used the first time. When the door pops open, you can see a familiar face on the hologram screen. Alma Coin.

Paylor and Lyme look over simultaneously to see who’s entered the room. 

“(Y/n)’s here.” Lyme says, standing up now.

“Good.” Coin says, “Won’t you join us?”

You make a face, stepping inside and shutting the door. You don’t head that far inside, sticking rather close to the door, but still in sight of the camera. 

“Finnick’s been looking everywhere for you.” Coin tells you calmly, “We just broke the news to him.”

“And?” you ask.

“He’s disappointed that he went through all that trouble to throw a party for you.”

So that’s what he was doing earlier. Throwing you a party, and for what? God, you can’t imagine the headache you would have had through the whole thing. Fake a smile, pretend to like it. The only parties you do like are the types that go on inside of the Capitol.

It’s all lavish there. The foods are delicious, the sweets and the sour foods. The drinks they have that you swear are going to make you dehydrated, but you drink anyway. The people there are always so friendly, even when they aren’t. They’re so stupid and naive that it makes it enjoyable to be around them.

Not to mention they worshipped you.

“Am I supposed to care?” you ask, crossing your arms, “Can’t be a very good party with your district. The entire thing is probably being attended by a total of ten people, and the food and drinks are twenty years old. I’m not missing out on anything, trust me.”

Coin bites her tongue, smiling, “Maybe it’s best that you’re back in District Two, then.”

“I’m done talking to you.” you give her a mock smile, turning to Lyme and Paylor, “I’m going to solve this whole loyalist problem for you in a second. Do you want to send a camera crew with me just in case it works?”

Lyme’s confused, “No offense, but what makes you think it’ll work? Especially with your mouth?”

“Cause I know you guys have been approaching it all wrong, and rather than having a second person fuck it up for you ingrates, I’ll do it myself. I may be selfish but I’m also open minded and have a way of words when I’m not being a complete bitch.” you look at Coin, “And if it does work, you don’t get to say you planned it at all. I’m not Katniss, and I won’t be easily manipulated.

“On top of that, you’ll also owe me a shiny, brand new apartment in the heart of the Capitol. Otherwise you can take that propaganda footage and shove it up that ass of yours.” you point to Lyme and Paylor, “Camera crew, now.”

You leave the room after that, and Paylor approves the camera crew, asking one of the people in the room with them to go ahead and gather the people. In the meantime, you take a look at yourself in the nearest bathroom. Your makeup and hair are still how you left it, and the dress isn’t that dirty either. 

When you get outside, there’s people already waiting to take you to the tunnels. And for their protection, they’re bringing volunteers with them. As for you, you’ll be out in the open just as you asked for.

“I live in luxury.” you tell yourself, raising your head a bit, “I belong in the Capitol. I am a loyalist. These rebels have no idea what they’re doing.”

You take the train tracks straight to the tunnel. The mountain has long since collapsed, which drew out most of the loyalists. And with Katniss’ speech after, a few surrendered. But there’s still plenty of people inside of there.

“I don’t know if we can follow you inside.” one of the girls tells you nervously, “It’s dark and unhealthy in there. If they begin firing, we’ll be the first to be brought down.”

“No, I will.” you say, “They’ll likely let you all live. If those cameras zoom well, keep as much of a distance as you can spare.”

The girl nods, “We trust you.”

You press your lips together, because it’s a first, “If I reach for my dress and turn my body like I’m going to run, you should take off immediately. I don’t plan on running, but I will if it gets too risky.”

“We’ll keep an eye out, I promise.”

Inside the tunnel, it’s even dirtier than you expected. Nonetheless, you all push through. The camera crew and the couple of armed people have masks over their face, but you work right through the dirt and smoke filled air. Even if you put a mask on now, you’ll have to take it off to talk anyway. There would be no point to it, you’re going to breathe in the air whether you like it or not.

“Stop!” A voice shouts, and you all come to a halt.

“Stay here.” you tell the crew.

Lights turn on, you cover your eyes for a moment as you blink through, trying to get adjusted to them. When you lower your hand, you can see that there’s several people ready to shoot you, and what looks like hundreds of people ready to back them up. The lights are coming from the train right in front of you.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, I’m here to speak to whoever is in charge, face to face.” you move forward, but stop a little bit after that, not wanting to push your limits.

Someone appears on the top of the train, an automatic rifle in his hands, “You shouldn’t be in here.”

You drop the dress down now, “No, I shouldn’t. This place is unfathomably filthy, and I can’t imagine how hard it is to breathe the air in here. What’s your name?”

“Jovian.”

“You know why I’m here, right?” you ask, crossing your arms, your eyes wandering over all the people waiting to see what happens.

“It’s pretty obvious, which is why I should let you know it’s not going to work, and you should leave while you can.” he tells you, “Or I’ll just make an example of you, just like how we did with Katniss.”

“Except Katniss is still alive in District Thirteen, you didn’t actually kill her.” you tell him, “Healthy as a horse, she was up on her feet the same day, ready to come right back here and give you guys a second chance.”

They won’t know you’re lying.

“We should’ve gone for her head.”

You ignore that, “There’s a big difference between Katniss and I, though. Katniss grew up in the poorest part of twelve, and I grew up in what was arguable once the richest parts of District Two. And then I won the games and got more money than I knew what to do with, and she didn’t have any time to get to realize her luxury.

“Because of this, she’ll never understand what you’ll have to sacrifice if you do take part in the fight. You’re putting everything up for a gamble. Your house, your clothes, furniture, a family. And you’d have to do it without knowing the outcome of a rebellion.”

Jovian nods slowly, “You get it.”

“Of course I do, I was once a Capitol pet too, and then Snow ended up killing my family, and then my friends on top of that.” you motion with your hand, “And I saw the type of people that we were supporting all this time. They’re nothing worth supporting, Jovian. I can promise you that.”

Jovian shakes his head, “What if you lose, huh? The district is already in deep shit because half of us are rebels, what if there’s a chance that the people who don’t fight with you, get rewarded?”

You snort, “You think he’s writing down names? You think he gives a shit if some of you were helping, and the others weren’t? All he’s going to see is that District Two had tried to help the rebels, and suddenly we’re all fucked. So why not give in? You know what will happen if there are no more hunger games, no more districts, no more districts versus the Capitol bullshit?

“You’d be able to live wherever you want--the Capitol, here, any of the other districts, places that were off limits, maybe even in some of the arenas that had gone untouched. You would work if you want to, and have a million kids without worrying about teaching them how to fight.

“There would be no more worries, Jovian. You’d still get to live the same, but it would be that much more freedom. And even if you wouldn’t want to live in any of those other places, you’d be able to visit them whenever you want. Take a vacation to the Capitol and come home to a sturdy house. And for anyone who hasn't found their soulmate because they exist in a different district, you’d have a greater chance of finding them.”

The silence that fills the tunnel is surprisingly calm, it isn’t as tense as you thought it would be. Jovian is obviously thinking all of this through.

“But we can’t win this without District Two. If we get those warehouses pumping out weapons, we’ll win this, guaranteed. It’ll be difficult, as all wars are, but we’ll win for once. We’ll get the justice we deserve, Snow will pay for all the shit he’s done.” you insist, “If you guys come with me now, there’s no hard feelings.

“There’s food, water, clothes, medicine. All you’d have to do is come with us now, and we’ll get you cleaned up, one at a time.”

Jovian looks down at you, “And you can promise us this?”

You look behind you, straight at one of the guards, “Get Paylor to confirm this.”

It takes a moment, but when her voice comes over the tunnel, echoing, saying all of what you said is true, you can’t help but to give a hopeful look to Jovian.

He takes in a deep breath, “Okay.”

“That’s just you, though.” you look to all the others, past the lights, “How about you guys? Are you willing to fight?”

“Will you be fighting with us?” someone yells to you.

This question you weren’t expecting, but you find yourself nodding before you can catch it, “Every step of the way.”

“Then sign me up.” A girl starts coming forward, behind her trails a couple of kids, they come in a line, all holding hands. She walks right past you guys.

It takes a moment before others start breaking off in groups. Jovian gives you a look, “These are my people.”

“They’re our people now.” You correct him, “And they’re going to be safe. Pack the hurt into the train and get this baby moving out here.”

You turn around, heading towards the camera, “Is it still running?”

“Yes.”

You look straight into the camera lense, “Twenty-three kids have died every year for the past seventy-four years. That’s one thousand, seven hundred and one kids that have died in the hunger games. Nearly two thousand of your kids have gone into an arena, scared and alone. 

“They wouldn’t know where their next meal would come from, they didn’t know if they would get sponsors or if they were worthy of them. They likely shivered and starved and were dehydrated down to their very last days. And while it was happening, all they could picture was their blue face in the night sky, signaling another fallen tribute.

“And you’re telling me, that now there’s a rebellion happening--one that will stop a cycle of heartless and meaningless murder--you’re not going to help? You’ll finally be able to have kids, and not worry about training them the moment that they’re born. No more staying up all night worrying that it’ll be your kid picked during the reaping.

“But we can’t get there if you don’t help.” You then lean a forward, “And Coriolanus, if you’re watching, I’d like to let you know that I found the scar you left on my face. You can mark me all you fucking want, but I haven’t done your bidding since I was sixteen. How’s this for calming down District Two?”

You stand up again, “For those of you who don’t know, my name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, I won the sixty-sixth hunger games when I was sixteen. I’m from District Two, and I have to admit that I have lived in luxury since the day I was born, and coming to terms with a rebellion that has ruined my whole lifestyle, isn’t easy.

“However, if I can see past all my greediness to realize that it’s unfair that I can live in luxury and others live in dirt, then you can too. There will be no more inequality, everyone will be able to live in a stable environment, and if you don’t want that, then you’re just as ill as Snow is.”

You turn to leave after that, hiking up the dress in the front so you don’t end up stepping on it and make a fool out of yourself in the process. It’s a couple of moments before the others are scrambling to follow.

“Are you really going to fight with us?” The girl asks.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

She’s quiet for a moment, “You just don’t look like you’d been into that type of thing.”

You look at her, “Don’t be fooled by the dress and makeup. I’m a lot more than a pretty face.”

“We’ll have to get you fitted for clothing, then. You can’t march to the Capitol in a dress.”

You end the conversation, not saying anything else to her. What she said is obvious, you know that you’ll have to be dressed properly. Hell, you know what’s happening in the Capitol at the moment.

Nothing slips past you. You hear everything when it comes to secrets. You knew Johanna had been waterboarded because she failed some sort of swimming test, nearly took down a couple of people during her panic. And you knew that her and Blight were a little more than friends too.

Just like how you know that the Capitol is turning into a whole trap. Snow is planting these pods—as Beetee called them—that are near impossible to keep track of. Snow is pulling in the Capitol citizens closer, allowing him to plant more pods. Hundreds of them, every single day.

Which means that if you go out there with the other volunteers, there’s a good chance of a million things happening to you. You can’t even think of what the gamemakers would put into the streets of the Capitol. All you know is that it can’t be good. 

They might as well throw in every single project that they’ve ever created since they won’t be able to use it against you all in the future. And in that case, you might not want to be in the streets of the Capitol after all.

Right when you leave the train station, there’s a giant dumpster waiting for the people leaving the tunnel. They’re forced to give up their weapons so that they can pass into the team of medics that are waiting. As you get closer, you’re able to see that there’s no struggle. Most give up their weapons without a fight, but some are a little hesitant to do so.

You and the camera crew pass by it easily, none of you are holding a significant weapon, and if you are, you’re all rebels anyway. They’re not worried about you guys turning on them, it’s more like the newly rebels that are just coming out of the tunnel.

Past all the disarming, is the group of medics that wait for everyone who makes it past the tunnel. It takes a bit for you and the camera crew to get through the dense crowd that only gets bigger. Just before you break the last line of people, you can hear the train’s horn, warning everyone that it’s coming.

Then, you get through.

Waiting on the other side of the crowd is Lyme, with a particularly impressed look on her face. 

“Maybe we should have sent you in, initially.” Lyme says, “You did it effortlessly.”

“If any of you had bothered to tell me before sending Katniss in, I would have told you it was a bad idea.” You take a look behind you, “And by the way, this is a perfect example of what you should do when it comes to the Capitol citizens.”

“Want to be put in charge of that?” Lyme offers.

Your head whips towards her, “I will not play devil's advocate for them. That’s your fucking problem to sort.”

“It was just an offer.” Lyme says, but you’re already leaving towards the justice building again. Lyme’s quite taller than you, so it takes basically no effort when it comes to catching up with you, “While you were gone, Coin had someone flown in.”

You can’t help but let out a snort, “Oh, whoever should that be?”

After what you said to Coin, it’s no surprise to you. She would pull some bullshit like this to make you angry. It’s just her little form of payback.

“He’s waiting at your house.”

You look at her, “You had him escorted to my house?”

“He wouldn’t shut up about it. Gave him basic instructions to get to victor’s village, and then told him yours is the only one that hasn’t been touched.”

“Speaking of which, why is that?” you fix a curl that’s fallen into your face.

“Honestly, no clue.” Lyme says, “Good luck with Finnick.”

“Right.”

Lyme and the camera crew break off when you reach the justice building. From there, one single person brings you as far as they’re allowed to go into the town part of District Two, and then they head back to where they had been standing before you stumbled along.

You’re nearly home when your feet start to ache from the heels. And if it weren’t for the fact that the dirt is mixed in with glass, you might have taken the heels right off and walked barefoot the rest of the way. Before the rebellion, you definitely would have done that. Regardless of how people would feel about it.

Victor’s village still looks shitty, there’s not much to expect from it in the first place. It’s not like it’s going to have changed in the past hour or two. Although, you thought that you might find Finnick poking around in the abandoned, charcoal black houses.

Through the first arch and into the second reveals your perfect house. The door is shut--so it looks like Finnick knows his manners--and you don’t waste time going inside.

Swinging the door open, you make a point to slam it shut when you get inside. You don’t even move from the doorway before you’re tearing the heels off your feet, massaging them one at a time. Then, you head upstairs to your room.

If Finnick wants to speak, Finnick can come and find you. He invited himself to District Two, he was able to find your house, he’ll be able to find you.

Or rather, the other way around.

Finnick’s lounging on your bed when you walk in. In his hand he holds a book with your face on it. You can’t help but roll your eyes--that book was forced on you by Snow. He thought it was a good idea to draw in more attraction to you. And unfortunately it worked, and after that, you spent a couple more weeks than you were meant to, inside of the Capitol.

Of course, it ran short when everyone heard about your sour attitude, no matter what time of the day it was. People revoked their… reservations, and you were forced to go home.

“Welcome.” you say bitterly, opening the wardrobe doors and tossing your shoes inside, then you unzip the dress from the back with little to no problem.

“So the friendliness didn’t last long.” Finnick sounds amused, but when you turn to look over your shoulder, you can see that it’s not how he’s feeling. There’s a hint of a scowl on his face, maybe some touch of annoyance.

“Thank god.” you hang the dress up, then you close the wardrobe door and move onto the bathroom.

You tear off everything that you wouldn’t normally wear. The bracelets, earrings, rings. The only thing you leave is the necklace Tanith gave you, otherwise it’s all gone. And as soon as you get into the bathroom, it’s tossed into the jewelry drawer, which is absolute hellfire to sift through. 

Finnick follows you to the bathroom, and watches as you remove the makeup, unphased by the fact that you’re half naked again, “Did you actually mean any of it?”

You pause for a moment, “Mean what? What I said to Johanna? Every word, she fucking asked for it. Antagonizing me and all that, she should have seen it coming.”

“The apology.” Finnick clarifies.

“I meant that, yes.” there’s no hesitation.

“That’s all I wanted to know.” he turns and leaves the bathroom.

“So now what?” you call, “You’re going back to District Thirteen?”

Finnick laughs, “Dream on.”

You roll your eyes, “It was worth a shot.”

“Your house smells like shit, by the way.”

“It’s the kitchen, feel free to clean it out if it bothers you that much. I just figured that this house would be blown to bits the second Snow gets a chance because of what I said.”

“Speaking of which.” Finnick comes back, he’s got some clothes for you hanging over his arm, “The front lines?”

You scowl at him a little bit, “Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to go through someone’s clothes? And yes, the front lines.”

Regardless, you pull on the shorts and shirt after tossing the makeup wipes away. You unpin your hair, letting it all fall into place unnaturally, which causes you to just pull it right back up into a ponytail anyway to keep it out of your face.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

You side-eye him, “Let me guess, you’re coming along?”

Finnick smiles, “You know me better than I thought.”

“No, you just have a thing for following me around, so I figured. Just like how Lyme didn’t even have to say your name, and I knew you came.” you grin a little, “How was the party, by the way?”

“Surprisingly boring without you there.”

“You’re saying that I’m entertainment?” you ask.

“The best.” Finnick smiles.

[gorogues]

Spoilers for Flash #750!

You can see a few preview pages here, here, and here.  There are so many pages in the issue that it’s tough to choose which ones to include here.

This was definitely worthy of a milestone issue.  There are multiple stories: one set in the present, a Len solo story which is sort of set in the Johns era, a pre-Crisis Sam story, a New 52-esque Speed Mind story, a Golden Age Jay story, and one about Wally's new role.  Plus, of course, a bunch of gorgeous pinups.

To get things out of the way, unfortunately it is definitely confirmed that Commander Cold is dead.  Steadfast and Fuerza are alive but off to do other things, James is locked up in a cell again, and the other Rogues are loose.  David Singh appears and is surprisingly nice to Barry, and it's confirmed that he and Hartley are still together and doing well.  Roy appears briefly and is now 100% confirmed to be in current continuity (technically his previous appearances were in a holiday issue, which are often of dubious canonicity, and he'd seemingly appeared twice in Zandia but at least one of his 'appearances' there was a Psych illusion).  And Iris is working on a story about how the Flash has helped people and inspired them, so we see flashbacks of Barry saving the day from various Rogues and Grodd.

Then Godspeed shows up, and lures Barry to the Flash Museum so Paradox can confront him.  Paradox airs his grievances, and tells Barry to give up being the Flash or see everything he cares about destroyed.  Paradox sics August on Barry, and the story ends in a cliffhanger, undoubtedly to be continued next issue.  It's notable that August is surprised to learn of the future Flash who was killed by Paradox, and perhaps that'll play into him turning on his boss in the story to come...at least if his desire for atonement is real, and he's actually upset to see any version of Barry killed.  It's possible that he thinks he can play along and save Barry from Paradox even if he has to beat him up a bit.

Then we've got the Len solo story by Johns and Kolins, which is shown above.  As always, Kolins is great with the little details which don't even figure into the story but add a lot.  We see the Stanley Cup stashed in Len's filthy apartment, as is tradition.  And Len's got a computer now, which is interesting.  Some of Lisa's stuff is stored in his closet, and he's got a yearbook photo of the Rogues.  And later in the story Jai is wearing a turtle shirt, which must be a nod to the long-rumoured plan that he was supposed to become the new Turtle before Flashpoint (you may recall that he was depowered in Flash: Rebirth and resentful about it, and Eobard claimed that one of Wally's kids would ruin his life).  Jai and Irey's appearance tells us that this isn't quite in proper continuity or is set during the Brightest Day era -- but if it was set during Brightest Day, Wally wouldn't necessarily think Len's actions were directed specifically at him, since Barry would be around too.  And even the yearbook photo fudges things a bit, since we wouldn't have a costumed Lisa and a youthful Roscoe around at the same time, barring a retcon.  Though Johns does love his retcons, so you never know.

The Len story is great and a lot of fun, and shows much of what we love and maybe also dislike about that era of Len.  As always, he over-indulges on the beer even as he otherwise decries drug use (although in fairness, he doesn't say anything about drugs in this story), but that is one of his flaws and probably one of the remnants of an abusive upbringing steeped in booze.  Johns seems to be throwing a little shade at the New 52 Rogues with the line "Guys who can snap their fingers and make a snowstorm because of some meta gene, how do you respect that?  When I hold that gadget in my hand, it means something."  Agree or disagree with that statement -- I don't think it's necessarily right or wrong -- there's no question that the meta Rogues were very much at odds with the Rogues of the Johns era.  And you may recall that Johns depowered New 52 Len as soon as he got a chance to; it's pretty clear he didn't like that development.

Wally's interpretation of Len's actions is very interesting and completely understandable from his POV, but of course he's misread the situation entirely.  Obviously he doesn't know Len as well as he thinks he does.  He'd be correct if it was quite a few other Flash villains (including some of the other Rogues), but he assumes the worst of all of them and we've seen before that sometimes he's wrong.  But the Len of that era deliberately cultivated misperceptions of himself and the other Rogues to get people to underestimate him or keep them off-balance, and ultimately he's probably got himself to blame for Wally's misunderstanding.  I don't think Len would mind Wally misunderstanding him for the reasons mentioned above, but maybe Wally would treat him better if he truly understood Len's motivations.  Food for thought.

It's also nice to see Chyre and Morillo too, who are very much missed.  Chyre's been name-dropped in the Rebirth era, but I'd like to see him and Morillo actually appearing again, even if just occasionally.

The Sam story is pretty cool and has a lot of Silver/Bronze Age simplicity and weirdness to it, and wouldn't be out of place in the published stories of that era.  So I admire that Wolfman and Rossmo were able to capture those aspects in it.  The issue doesn't contain something from every era of the Flash, but this story covers the Silver/Bronze Age era wonderfully.

The Jay story is really interesting; it's otherwise a very Golden Age-inspired story with the Thinker, but then Eobard puts in a surprise appearance, taunting Jay that he'll be forgotten in the future.  It's a very Eobard thing to do, although unusual to see him taking an interest in Jay.  And obviously it foreshadows Jay's disappearance from this Earth/continuity from the New 52 until recently.  I'm very much looking forward to seeing how Jay is used now that he and the JSA seem to be back, and wonder if Eobard will continue bothering him.  Obviously Eobard's primary grudge is with Barry, but of course he's messed with other members of the Flash Family as well.  And messing with the Flash Family in general may become a hobby of his with the [spoilers for comics in May] development that he's creating his own Reverse Flash Family.

The Wally story is partly an epilogue to the Flash Forward series and partly a prologue to the upcoming Generation Zero issue on Free Comic Book Day.  In it, Wally observes different versions of continuity: the pre-Flashpoint history and the post-Flashpoint history, side by side and seemingly both still in continuity.  Or, if not still in continuity, then still existing together.  Presumably he (or someone else) will deal with that to streamline continuity, but the question is, will both versions still remain, get merged into one, or will something else happen entirely?  We may not find out until FCBD and beyond.

So all in all, this was a great issue, and fitting for a milestone.  It was great fun to see the various stories, pinups, and variant covers, and so nice to see a classic Johns-Kolins story about Len, a spotlight on Jay, and an era-appropriate story featuring classic Sam.  It's also good to finally get some answers about lingering questions in current continuity like the fate of James and Commander Cold and the missing Forces users, even if we're not always happy about the developments.  I do think Henry's killing was weirdly abrupt and has been handled as something of an afterthought so I'm not thrilled about that, but it is good to get confirmation and some finality to it.  Hopefully he isn't completely forgotten after this.

[my-thoughts-my-views]

Macbook Air M1 | Best Suitable Accessories for Macbook Air M1 | Laptop Accessories

Macbook Air M1

 Let’s talk about best suitable accessories for you MacBook Air M1. So you might have recently picked up an M1 MacBook Air or Pro. or perhaps you have an Intel model Or even one of the larger 15 or 16 inch MacBook Pros. Here’s a list of accessories that are tried and tested by me over the years and really help enhance the capabilities and increase you productivity with these machines. You can purchase these accessories from Amazon or other other e-commerce website to get best gadgets for you likewww.gadgetworldusa.com.

 I will divide it in two sections:

 -         The first talking of accessories you can get for your MacBook when using it in laptop form, these are meant to be portable and in general can be applied to any laptop.

 -         In the second half, I will look at accessories when using your MacBook in desktop mode. What accessories you can get to make a seamless shift from laptop to desktop mode and carry on working for those longer, more demanding work sessions.

 So let us get started with accessories to get when using your MacBook as a laptop.

USB Port:

  Apple USB Type C to Type A adapter

 The first thing I picked up when I got my first USB type C port only MacBook Pro, was this. The Apple USB Type C to Type A adapter. Well, with only USB Type C ports on all MacBook’s nowadays and a lot of peripherals still using a USB Type A port, you need the ability to access type A devices from the word go, so this is an excellent adapter to have in your bag, that will give you USB 3.1 Gen 1 speeds from any device that is also compliant with at least this standard.

  Lenovo USB type C hub

 Now, you may be thinking about why you should get an adapter that just provides a USB type A connection, when you can get a Lenovo USB type C hub with many other connections. Well, if that’s your Amazon is full of listing for these and there’s a lot of badge engineering happening here. So, a single supplier maybe manufacturing the same product for a number of retailers. Now both of these are well reviewed hubs, but I’ve had better luck with this Lenovo Hub. It is a couple of years old and no longer available in this exact version.

 This other one offers additionally a 3.5mm jack, but in actual performance, it tends to heat up and loose the display completely till it gets cool. Also, you’re unable to adjust the volume using the MacBook’s software slider when you connect external speakers via this hub.

 One thing these unpowered docks will not give you, is transfer speeds via SD cards. You really need a dedicated SD card reader if you work with large photo or video files. This here is an excellent choice, the SanDisk Imagemate Pro and it allows you to exploit the full potential of your SD cards read and write speeds.

 SanDisk Imagemate Pro

   Cable:

  USB Type C to Micro B Amazon Basic Cable

  Let’s talk cables for a bit. Now although you can use one of the aforementioned adapters or hubs to connect to USB type A cable devices, but if you’re not going to be moving between older computers and your new MacBook too much, you may want consider a USB Type C to Micro B cable such as these.

They are from different brands, but for the sake of uniformity wherever you may be located, I will recommend the USB Type C to Micro B Amazon Basic Cable. This will allow you to connect a sinning USB 3.1 hard drive directly to your MacBook via USB C and achieve USB 3.1 Gen 1 speeds.

  Griffin Breaksafe cable

 If you’ve had MacBook in the past and really loved the idea of MagSafe, this could be just the cable you were looking for. This is the Griffin Breaksafe cable that snaps in half if you yank or pull at it and prevents your computer from falling off a desk or other surface.

  You have to be careful here, because there are tons of such options online. One example is this Baseus MagSafe connector, I really liked the idea of it. Convert your existing cable to MagSafe and have a very small connector permanently plugged in to the MacBook. And the connector itself was right angled to enable a more compact profile when charging. But in practise, this is not recommended at all. 99% of times it worked as advertised but that one time, when I connected it, remember this has live electricity running through it, it fried the logic board on one of my previous MacBook.

 So, the only safe product I have come across is the Griffin Breaksafe cable. It’s bulkier and only charges up to 60 watts, so not as suited for bigger MacBook, but it’s safe and long enough to charge MacBook Airs and 13 inch Pros or even iPad Pros.

 Cable Protectors

 And also on the topic of cables, you can pick these little cable protectors on Amazon for next to nothing, they go on to your original Apple cables like so and offer great protection from bends in the one are Apple’s cables are most vulnerable at and if left unprotected, the cables tend to get frayed in this region. I used them on my iPad Pro and MacBook Pro 15 inch original USB Type C cables and they are as pristine as they were on day one, some two years later.

Mouse:

  Logitech MX Master 3 mouse

 Now when it comes to mouse, you do have the excellent trackpad on the MacBook Air itself, but if you want that classic mouse experience and want that scroll wheel, I cannot say. Enough good things about theLogitech MX Master 3 mouse. It’s not the most compact of mice but trust me when I say this, once you’ve used one of these, you will never want to go back to anything else. Really you have to experience it to know how great it is, it’s simply the best mouse in the world. In certain regions you can get in a Mac specific variant, but from what I’ve read there isn’t that much value addition in that one, so I would rather stick to the general variant and retain compatibility across devices.

  Sandstorm mouse

 You can connect up to three devices and switch between them using a toggle button on the bottom of the mouse. But if you want something more compact, I have used this Sandstorm mouse for the past three years now and this is from a UK based manufacturer. It is quite excellent, but its limited availability and recent issues I’ve had in terms of lagging with my older 15 inch MacBook Pro, means I would rather point you in the direction of the Logitech pebble mouse, which is really compact and performs well.

 Logitech pebble mouse

  Protection:

  MOCA hard shell case

  Now let’s talk protection. For many people MacBook is an expensive purchase and they will rightfully have think about protecting their new investment. The first thing that comes to mind is a hard shell case such as this. This is the MOCA hard shell case for the new M1 MacBook Air, but also fits other2020 MacBook Airs. The idea is sound, but since 2016, when the USB Type C MacBook came out, their displays are razor thin and the top lid has very little strength to it. So whenever I’ve tried to use such a case, be it on this MacBook Air or my older 15 inch MacBook Pro, it adds too much weight to the lid, and I can see this having an adverse effect over the years on the hinges.

 Now that you’ve chosen a hard shell case for your MacBook, you may be thinking of sleeves. Well, if you want a basic sleeve, you will be well served by any of the generic ones available on Amazon. I used a handcrafted one that I picked up in the UK on my original13 Inch Retina MacBook Pro for a good few years. But recently I’ve moved to “Thule cases and bags”. On one of my flights with my older 13 inch MacBook, a generic laptop bag didn’t offer the protection from pressure damage that was needed and I had a damaged MacBook screen. Since then, I surveyed the market and chose this product, the Thule Gauntlet sleeve for both 13 inch and 15 inch MacBook Pros.

 Thule Gauntlet sleeve

  I actually the used the 13 inch version for my iPad Pro 12.9 inch. It offers rugged protection and although bulkier than a cloth or fabric sleeve, I’ve had peace of mind when travelling with this item. It’s quite no frills though and beyond a protective shield for your device, it doesn’t offer any storage space for accessories.

   Thule Attaché case

  If you’d rather have a bag, then Thule has you covered once more. Because of my really nice experience with their sleeves, I tried out the Thule Attaché case for the 15 inch MacBook Pro. This is a really nice bag and offers the same protection as the Gauntlet sleeve but additionally has plenty of space for accessories and chargers and keeps the laptop separate from these. You also have the option of working from the bag itself, quite useful in situations at airports and such locations, where you don’t want too much clutter when working for quick few minutes.

 Storage:

 Now let’s talk about storage. If you want fast and lightweight storage for you MacBook, you can’t go wrong with the excellent Samsung external SSDs, the T5 and its newer T7 cousin. I’ve used T5 1TB variant for a couple of years now and really enjoy the 540MB/Speeds it consistently delivers and do all of my video editing off this drive. The newer T7 offers double these speeds, but at some additional cost. Both are excellent and deserve a space in your laptop bag. And being solid state drives, they are not only very compact, but also extremely rugged when compared to a spinning hard drive.

    Samsung external SSD T5

 So this was all about accessories for on the go computing with your MacBook. Now let’s look at accessories that make your life easier when working at a desk. With these accessories you can seamlessly transform your MacBook into a proper workstation.

 Display:

   32 inch 4K Benq display

 Well, the most obvious one on this desk is the main event, the 32 inch 4K Benq display. This is the Benq EW3280U 4K display. Don’t confuse it with the EW3270U, which is a VA panel display whilst this is the real deal, an IPS display, which you really need with such big displays for good viewing angles.

 Also anything smaller than this, and you will not be effectively able to run this at native4K resolution. Everything becomes too small for reading comfortably and even this one, I use it a pixel doubled 2560x1440 resolution that provides retina-like sharpness and still plenty of screen real estate. As a bonus, this comes with the best speakers on a monitor and a subwoofer, meaning I’ve thrown away my external speakers now.

 It’s not perfect though, and the new M1 MacBook do have number of issues with it. Also, even though it comes with a remote, I’ve found this Tobe very unresponsive. I still recommend this display simply because it is one of the few good IPS displays in 32 inch size and 4K resolution at this price point, at least in India and USA.

 Stand:

  Laptop stand from TARKAN

 The other item here is a laptop stand from TARKAN. It is a 360 degree rotating stand that elevates you MacBook to a comfortable height and allows you to have the screen open of closed as per your choices. I wanted access to the Touch ID sensor, so didn’t want to use the MacBook in clamshell mode and this was really perfect for the purpose.

 If you get the same design by a different manufacturer, by all means go for the best deal available, as most of these are made by the same supplier and then sold with different brand names.

 Powerhouse:

  Caldigit TS3 Plus dock

 You can use the Caldigit TS3 Plus dock peeking for your MacBook, this is the powerhouse that has enabled me to have such a clean desk setup. The first distinction between this and the USB Type C hubs we spoke of earlier is that this is a Thunderbolt hub and is actively powered by its own big power brick. That means, not only does it not draw power from your MacBook, but it can charge the MacBook at up to a full 87 watts and power all number of other devices and have just a single, neat thunderbolt 3 cable running to your MacBook. Unfortunately in my case, my Benq Monitor doesn’t run at 60 hz refresh rate when connected via display port cable that this hub offers or even its own USB type C cable.

  Belkin USB Type C to HDMI adapter

 So I’ve had to add another accessory to the back of this hub, and that is Belkin USB Type C to HDMI adapter. This is a great accessory that allows running4K monitors at up to 60hz resolution and offers pass-through charging for a MacBook as well. It actually comes in two variants, but make sure you choose new one, and not the older one that doesn’t provide pass-through charging.

 Thunderbolt dock:

     Caldigit TS3 Plus thunderbolt dock

 The Caldigit TS3 Plus thunderbolt dock has really replaced a number of devices form and offers the single cable convenience that I was looking for. The only thing going against it is the cost, it’s really expensive and its availability outside of the US and Canada is not great. But if money’s not an object, and you want the best hub for your MacBook, this is it.

 Mechanical Keyboard:

  TVS Gold Keyboard

 Now this is a mechanical keyboard, the TVS Gold Keyboard, which is only available in India and is based on Cherry MX keys. If you’ve typed on a mechanical keyboard you will know how great they are for typing. The downside with this keyboard is its Windows layout keys. And also, if you’re used to typing on the excellent Magic Keyboards of the latest MacBook or even the iPad Pro, there is a lack of consistency when you switch to this keyboard, as the keys are differently sized and take some getting used to. For this reason, I recommend both this style of mechanical keyboard and Apple’s own Magic Keyboard. It will boil down to personal preference on this one.

 Mouse:

   Logitech MX Master 3 mouse

 Once again, you see the excellent Logitech MX Master 3 mouse and it is right at home on this large Scarters mouse mat. It measures90x45 cms and offers a great base to work on and is spill proof and easily cleaned and also reversible and comes in different colours on both sides. It’s recently had a price cut and really great value at reduced prices.

   Scarters mouse mat

 Monitor Arm:

 The other item you see here, is the excellent Amazon Basics monitor arm, which allows a range of movement for your monitor whilst keeping your desk clean. It also offers cable management for a clean look. I’m not using it currently as I like the look of my new Monitor’s base stand, but I do use it add an additional screen from time to time. I’ve done an in-depth review on this, so do check that out.

  Amazon Basics monitor arm

  External HDD:

  Seagate Backup plus Portable 5TB external HDD

 Now when you’re at a desk, portability is less important and when it comes to hard drives, space and capacity take precedent. Here are two excellent choices, one is the Seagate Backup plus Portable 5TB external HDD and second is the WD My Passport 4TB portable external hard drive. Both are USB 3.0 and have spinning drives inside them. They are both available for great prices around the world and availability is excellent on any local Amazon site. It’s a great way to dump large files and use for backing up your MacBook. And USB 3.0 speeds mean that they are not painfully slow when it comes to file transfers.

  WD My Passport 4TB portable external hard drive

  Extension Cable:

   USB type C extension cable by Stouchi

 USB type C extension cable by Stouchi that are tricky to find, also they are uni-directional, so you can plug them in the wrong way. They only work when connected in one orientation, so make sure you try both sides when you use them. But what it does offer is the ability to hide USB Type C hubs away for a clean desk setup. If you don’t want an expensive Thunderbolt hub, this maybe a good way to achieve port expansion whilst keeping your desk clean.

 Cable Management Tray:

  IKEA Signum cable management tray

 Finally, this is the IKEA Signum cable management tray, plenty long and strong and adjustable. Also easy to install as will ensure your desk looks pristinely clean and cable clutter free.

   Since it’s from a well-known brand, availability and quality is generally great around the world. Thanks for sticking by till the end and hopefully you will find something useful from these accessories for your own use case scenario. There are many other e-commerce website to get best gadgets for you like www.gadgetworldusa.com. Let me know in the comments section, which ones of these you have or are planning to get or if you have an alternative to any of them.

  Thank you very much for reading this Article.

[arkus-rhapsode]

What do you consider the IDEAL comic crossover for My Hero, DC or Marvel?

Oh boy, an excuse to talk about comics! Strap in this answer may surprise you.

Since superheroes in the traditional sense are more of a western creation and the comic industry is dominated by Marvel and DC, its only natural when a manga series all about superheroes that resemble that traditional western idea you’d think about them crossing over.

However, there’s a lot of distinct differences between MHA’s universe and the big 2 mainstream comic universes. These differences make it harder for me to see them actually being able to mesh.

Obvious ones being space aliens and magic exist. Heroes with just gadgets are more common. And very key to the marvel universe, you can be a mutant and discriminated against even though there’s a bunch of other heroes with freaky powers that just weren’t born with them and somehow they get a pass (That’s a discussion for another day).

But what I always go to as what makes MHA extremely different and not at all compatible with comics like Superman or Wonder Woman or Wolverine is very simple, weakness.

Quirks in MHA suffer a variety of weaknesses. A big point in the story is growing your skill to work around that weakness. Now that’s not to say heroes in Western Comics don’t have weaknesses. Superman can be stopped by Kryptonite, Green Lantern can be stopped by the color yellow, ans Martian Manhunter can be stopped by fire. All well and good, but most of those limits are super specific malefactors that aren’t products of limitation the way quirks are.

The pinnacle of MHA’s hero society at this moment is Endeavor, a guy who can make a bunch of flames, but use too many and he burns himself out. That’s their PEAK. Now hop over to Marvel and Human Torch can literally go on forever.

This is due to both industries taking a different approach to action. In MHA you can make chapters on just the fight. The back and forth and struggle. And a battle of skill is really engaging.

But in comics, fights aren’t really about the battles. Its more, strike a dynamic pose while caption boxes use that to tell a story. The action can look cool and have stakes, but its more a story than it is a battle of skill. Now there are times this isn’t always the case.

The Dan Jurgens’s Teen Titans and Kyle/Yost New X-Men both used an emphasis on skill in battle as a way to show these young heroes were up and coming and had to grow into protectors and fighters. And long comic books like Superman vs The Amazing Spider-man used it’s extra page space to infuse it with more intricate action. However, these are exceptions, and not the rule. This is likely due to Manga be produced in a week and comics being produced in a month yet having roughly the same amount of pages.

Another thing is role. MHA is one story told by one guy and will have its definitive end. When they beat a villain, that’s a big moment because its likely the end of that villain. But in western comics, they have no true end. You beat that villain, they can come back, maybe acting differently depending on the writer.

It’s due to their limitations, the characters of MHA just wouldn’t work in the worlds of Marvel or DC, they are too fragile. Too different. The characters of MHA would be upstaged in terms of feats. It’s such a difference in base function that it really removes the interest in seeing them crossover. Thus making it not IDEAL for me.

I actually think characters from the Justice League or Avengers would cross over better with heroes from One Punch Man. There, S-Class heroes are ridiculously strong. The roof on their power limit is almost unachievable to any of heroes in MHA and people like the fast as super tech of Child Emperor, Super Martial Artist Bang, Tornado of Terror Tatsumaki would actually integrate into the same weight class as God of Thunder Thor, Super Science Iron Man, and super regenerative Wolverine.

But this isn’t OPM, it’s about MHA, and after I gave that big dressing down of how they just wouldn’t really fit in the over powered worlds of Marvel/DC. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a universe I think MHA would fit in with.

The universe is Marvel’s New Universe.

For those who don’t know what the New Universe, the basic gist of it is this. In honor of Marvel’s 25th Anniversary, a distinctively separate universe from the main Marvel continuity, was launched with a unique mission statement and goal. This would be a superhero world grounded in realism.There would be no hidden races, gods, mythological beings, magic, or supertechnology (in fairness, this rule was broken by one Character called Justice, who was an exiled Alien Warrior, but 7 out of the 8 titles sticking to the rules isn’t too bad).

Superhuman characters and powers would be limited and thus more subdued in their activities, yet their actions would have more realistic consequences. Superhumans began to appear thanks to a phenomenon called the White Light Event, which gave 2 out of ever 1 million humans super powers. Those who gained powers were referenced to as Paranormals.

Now this project was certainly ambitious for Marvel, and as you can guess from how little relevance it has nowadays, it didn’t do so hot. Unfortunately, New Universe just couldn’t afford the A-list Talent it wanted and the line crashed and burned. Becoming more of a foot note in Marvel Comics history and sometimes explored or had elements taken from it by the mainstream marvel.

A shame as, New Universe would actually mesh with MHA, unlike mainstream marvel, super humans are just starting out, there is none of that baggage of “mutants bad, but people who got their powers from radiation good.” No, if you had powers, you were a target by a glowingly concerned public.

There is no magic or magic metal like vibranium that can be relied on by normal humans to gain powers.

As stated previously, it was almost all earth bound. Heroes in this world had to have powers all from the same place. This white light that made genetic anomalies that gave people powers.

And what about those powers? Well lets take a look at one the super hero “teams” of the New Universe DP7. A title all about a group of 7 paranormals.

Well their powers included members like:

Friction- acquired the power to make herself, anything she touched, and any other object she thought about within a limited range friction-free enough to make the object or person slide effortlessly. Over time, Beck learned to make her power object-specific or to increase friction to stick things together.

Scuzz- who produces a corrosive substance from his skin, which he himself is immune to. He can increase his skin's production of the chemical, to the point of burning through a steel plate in 10 seconds, but cannot stop it, turning anything he wears into a tattered ruin within days and affecting objects such as bedsheets and furniture that he comes into regular contact with.  He learns to form his chemical-laden saliva with his skin secretion into "gobs" or "spitballs" that he can throw.

Twilight- whose body produces "fatigue-poison inducing bioluminescence" that can paralyze and render unconscious individuals that are exposed to it. Twilight's power requires her to remain covered over her entire body at all times

Blur- whose body vibrates so fast that he cannot stand still. He requires vast amounts of food for his accelerated metabolism and can move at superhuman speed.

As you can see, these superhumans are more in line in terms of power with how Horikoshi writes powers. And I think that means you’d be able to crossover without one of the heroes being upstaged.

However, why I think this is ideal is just the fact that the New Universe is a world at the cusp of super humans appearing. We know in MHA that when that happened with quirks, it didn’t go smoothly. So I think it be amazing to see the characters of MHA who’s society reflects a possible conclusion for the society of the new universe.

Look, I know there’s tons of fanfiction and fan works that pair MHA with Marvel or DC and there’s nothing wrong with that. That is your creativity, and you are free to explore it in anyway you want. Never has this post been my intent to tell you that you can’t have an MHA/DC crossover or what have you. This is simply what I’d consider the most ideal crossover.

And I think that with these factors of realistic world, powers with limitations, and the blossoming of a super human society. That’s why I’d say the New Universe is the best one MHA could have a western comic crossover with.

[botslayer]

Top Ten games of the 2010′s

This trend seems to be doing the rounds at the moment and seeing as I’ve been gaming for about as long as I can remember, It just feels right. So, let’s get into it. But first, worth saying: These aren't really in any specific order, it's just the games I've personally had the most fun with overall, but it's pretty hard to decide what the hard numbers on things you enjoy for different reasons are if that makes any sense. 10. The 2010's weren't exactly the best time for anyone, I think. For me they were a slog of finding myself and learning things I wish I didn't. Amid all those things I wanted some levity. The world needs something and stupid. We got a lot of it ion 2013 but I feel like we could have used it scattered around a bit more. In that spirit, allow me to show you one hell of a pick me up:

Saints Row 4

Saints Row 4 does not give a fuck. It is aggressively demonstrating that the entire time you play. It doesn't care in the slightest what you think or why, It just wants to show you cool, if juvenile, and interesting, if weird shit. It's the finer points of Ratchet and Clank's arsenal, SR3's humor, And superpowers that genuinely put Prototype and Infamous in a blender and tell you to go ape shit with them. The soundtrack isn't top shelf, it's the roof of the building the shelf is in. Saints Row Two had a better story overall but SR Four's was just plain fun and a solid enough story to still be invested.

The DLC was just as irreverent and madcap, Featuring everything from an evil Santa Clause to evil Gimps on Game of thrones chairs made of dildos Or Tropey-ass costumes and weapon reskins that I'd be genuinely surprised the game dev didn't get sued over. It has earned its place in my top 10 and I will die by that decision.

9.

2016 saw the advent of a new genre. They blended TF2 and MOBAs, and we got hero shooters in their first AAA forms, Overwatch and Battleborn. But neither of these games is on this list, much as I liked them. Partly because the whole time, I kept thinking of one simple question: "Why do I keep thinking of...?"

Anarchy Reigns

Anarchy Reigns is my favorite Platinum game. Full Stop. The Story mode is interesting and has genuinely good character moments, the characters themselves are completely mental, ranging from a mercenary with a bionic cat leg that secretly has a gun built into it to a giant cyborg bull-man with a jet-powered hammer. The soundtrack is mostly angry hip-hop, making every song a banger and fittingly speedy for things like random bombing runs from jet fighters that come from absolutely nowhere.

There are giant monsters, cars with mounted flame throwers, giant robots, and the online is still pretty sweet because even when abandoned, loading it up with bots still rules. I regularly have more fun with this than I ever did with Overwatch, and I don't care how insane that sounds.

8.

Some games want to make you feel something and fail. Some games make you feel some things accidentally, for example, a desperate need to laugh. This game made me feel like a human blender. Like a Chthonic god of mangled flesh and raw destructive power. Nyarlathotep ain't got nothing on me. I speak, of course, of...

[Prototype] 2

There's no end to the absolute destruction you feel like you're causing in this game. It feels more fluid than the first, the main character is a pinch more relatable, and all the body horror, superpowers, zombie hordes, and big old monsters make for some of the most memorable and fun moments and fights in gaming. The DLC is also pretty solid, adding new fun side challenges, and new powers and weapons that elevate you from "Flesh god" to "Screw physics, I made them" Omnipotent. Best god/monster simulation of all time.

7.

Sometimes some games are at an honest tie in your mind. Be it that you like them for essentially the same reasons, or for completely different reasons, but the overall total joy or entertainment they bring is roughly equivalent. Here, we have a case of the former:

Furi/Cuphead

Both games have a tight focus on giving players a unique, boss-centric challenge, both have interesting, somewhat minimal narratives, and both are absolute eye candy.

Furi has a more "Samurai Jack" Quality to me. A complete badass on a relatively simple quest with a somewhat minimalistic art style learning some things as he goes.

Cuphead on the other hand, nails that rubber hose animation style, and the fun levity of such animations while still making the player's ability to interact with the world damn impactful and fun.

They share a spot in my soul, games I love everything about but will never be able to finish. Hats off to both dev teams.

6.

Now here we have another tie. Mostly because the games are so close together, they need to be evaluated more or less as one product IMO, not enough changed for me to consider them separate games, fortunately, that is the furthest thing from an insult it can be in this situation. I present to you, my next pick(s).

Costume Quest 1/2

Now, This might seem pretty random considering my other picks, but honestly, I love Halloween, I love creative madness, I love subversion, I love good characters, and I love cool action, these games have all these things by the bucketload.

The first game is a wild ride through Halloween in multiple very lively locations and the second, slightly confusing as it is, is pretty awesome for the things it introduces, including time travel. Other elements, like the battle stamps, the truly epic forms of everything in the fights, The ability to customize your costumes, etc. they blur together in a pretty big way, but again, there's not a thing wrong with that when both games rock like crystal candy. 

5.

Now, if you hadn't noticed, all of the games on this list have had some hard action at their core, and while I don't HATE calmer games, a lot of the time, so many are kinda dull to me in that with the exception of easter eggs of some sort, most farming sims, for example, just have you doing normal farm stuff with very few twists, may as well start a real farm in that case. My most chill entry is a game that tosses that to one side, asks you to grab a suck cannon, and start harvesting gelatinous monster poop.

Slime Rancher

While you don't spend a lot of time actually interacting with other characters, they just talk at you, the story of the game is pretty effective, the player character of Beatrix has left Earth for a simpler life of Slime Ranching, which entails the raising of alien crops, delightfully derpy and colorful chickens, and going all around in an attempt to farm new breeds of slime for their genetic material to sell off or trade-in for the creation of gadgets while being surrounded by a cast of interesting characters. It's all very wholesome family fun.

The game looks great, has great ideas, and is genuinely the best farming game I have ever played. @ me all you want.

4.

The 80's are almost fetishized nowadays. Given all the property reboots, games that go for the vibe and aesthetic of the time, etc. It almost seems as though the eighties vibe train ain't gonna stop rolling any time soon. But we owe it to ourselves to remember the first big swipe of madcap neon-colored actiony B-movie bullshit and how mind-meltingly epic it was. Ladies, Gents, and whatever else, I present:

Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon

Blood Dragon's story is relatively simple, you play Sargent Rex "Power" Colt (A name said in full so many times I thought his last name was "Powercolt" for the longest time), a former "Omega force" cyborg. Rex and his friend "Spider" were sent into a secret island base to investigate the supposed defection and treachery of their old commander, Ike Sloan. It turns out he has gone rogue and taken an army of "Mark 5" Omegaforce cyber-soldiers with him. What follows is a long story of betrayal, science fiction of the highest nonsensical level, comedy, and brilliantly cathartic action.

The collectibles range from data on animals, to research notes from a scientist, to literal VHS cassette tapes that have full descriptions of movies that I would legitimately watch if I could. "You may now kill the brides" is not a real film and I am angry for every day that that is true. Anyway, play Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon, I dunno if it's on PS4 but it's one game I'd buy a new/old console for.

3.

A lot of superhero games NEED to railroad you. Your goals MUST be to save the lives of the people and help the weak and all that. But one dev asked the simple question: "What if it didn't?" "What if the player chose how to use their power? What if the player could be as evil or as good as they damn well pleased?" One game gave you the powers of thunder and lightning and asked what you'd do with it. It's sequel asked you the same, but against more... interesting forces.

InFamous 2

InFamous 2 is a game about making choices, just like the first one, also just like the first one, it can have an effect on gameplay. That effect went from "What does this particular power do in this allignment?" To "Which new set of NEW powers would you like?" The forces of the last game went from “Three flavors of gun-toting whackos” To “Possibly an allegory for the Klan, Swamp monsters, and Ice-powered super soldiers.”

This was, and still is, the best game in the whole series, The powers felt distinct from anything else and still do, the story is solid as a rock, and the enemy types were still varied enough to be interesting, I miss the Reapers from the first game, but that's about it. Everything else was a massive step up. If you have something that can run it, play it.

2.

Action is something I think we can all appreciate on some level. We can understand when it does or does not work, we can understand when we do or do not like how it feels when we are the ones partaking in it. EX: Any schlep can tell you when the weapons in your game lack impact, or when your character moves too slow for the game to be fun. The following game is something I can't say anything of the sort about. And it's kind of like Wolfenstein, when you have enemies this bad, who the hell cares how many you kill?

Doom 2016

Y'all are lying if you say you didn't expect this one. It's DOOM 2016. This game is made of hate and fuck. AND I LOVE IT. You move so fast, you may as well be half cheetah and half sports car. You slaughter the dregs of hell by the dozens and even the biggest, baddest things this game throws at you can be beaten with the starting pistol if you have the stones for it. It looks amazing graphically, the demons all look appropriately threatening, and even the Multiplayer is a great deal of fun in my book.

Something worth noting: The story presented by default is pretty barebones, but that's where supplementary material fills in the gaps, the difference between supplementary material in most games and supplementary material here is the material is till IN THE GAME. You're free to ignore most of the plot as it happens around you, and even interesting tidbits of the lore like how certain demons function. Not only are these things missable collectibles, prompting continued play to find them, they are also pretty interesting reads. So yeah, just about everything you could want in a sequel/remake, builds the on lore and gameplay very organically. 

1.

And here we are, the last game I'd put in this category. An entire decade, and here, we end on the last game that left such an impact I'd put it in my top ten. But first, let's talk about expectations and delivery: When you say a game is coming out, there are certain expectations you have for gameplay, EX: I say "Ratchet and Clank" and you expect a TPS with platforming elements and crazy guns. I say "Gears of War" and people expect something to do with lumbering about in big armor, dismembering things with a chainsaw gun and otherwise shooting them to paste. We might also expect changes to things, better graphics, innovations in grenade variety, something as that franchise goes on.

After the last game in this series was released, there were tons of people who felt let down and disappointed by it. Then they released the still somewhat disappointing special edition of it. They were both still fun, but neither really felt like the full next step in the series. After a failed reboot, they returned to the original story and the lot of us rejoiced. And when it finally came out? It was a step up in most, if not, all regards, to its predecessors. You know what this last one is. Please, give a warm round of applause to:

Devil May Cry 5

A game that was not only a return to form, but a major escalation in gameplay for one character, and a new style of gameplay all together by way of yet another new character. It didn’t exactly hurt that the story kicked ten kinds of ass and that the game looked spectacular in both the design of everything and the actual graphical fidelity.DMC 5 is, like DOOM, Like InFamous 2, Like [PROTOTYPE] 2, everything you want in a good sequel. It built very well on already solid foundations and it was generally just a fun, slightly goofy, massively stylish, and ultra badass ride. I recommend this, and all these games, to anyone.Good night everyone, have a great 2020. And the rest of the decade, for that matter. 

[spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia]

SpongeGuy Reviews Every Disney Sitcom!: K.C. Undercover (1.1): “Pilot”

Yeah guys these have been really slow this week, I know. But hey, at least now we know that Zendaya’s back hurts from carrying this show!

K.C. Undercover is what you get when you want live action Kim Possible but you don’t want to actually try, and you also don’t understand that Kim Possible wasn’t just jokes and main character does awesome thing.

I guess the Kim Possible DTV movie is also what you get when you want live action Kim Possible but you do what I wrote above.

The show focuses on K.C. Cooper (played by the always great, even here, Zendaya) and her life as a spy, just like her parents (OH BOI WILL WE GET TO THEM) and after an episode her brother Ernie. There’s also a robot sister who’s annoying and is there for no real reason after episode 1 because OF COURSE.

But we are not talking about her, we are talking about the pilot for this show, and well... I am very disappointed. Let’s just get this over with.

SUMMERY:  During her first undercover assignment as a spy, K.C. Cooper gets ready for her first mission. Her parents, Kira and Craig Cooper, are also spies. However, her younger brother, Ernie Cooper, is unaware about K.C. and her parents being a spy, and her best friend Marisa is also unaware about her best friend's secret life. For her first assignment, K.C. is supposed to catch another teenage spy and crack down the code that is used for a dangerous virus. Unfortunately for her, K.C.'s first mission is also on the night of her high school dance, and she is challenged on whether to go through with her mission or go skip the mission and go to her school dance.

COMEDY: 1 Out of 5

It’s hard to find different ways to say “This wasn’t funny”, especially when such things are subjective. But I think a way to make it clear why this one isn’t funny is that for a spy sitcom, they barely make SPY JOKES.

This is a SPY SITCOM. CLEARLY inspired by KIM POSSIBLE. And they make almost no SPY JOKES. Sure, you have your disguises at one point, your mission impossible “sequence”, your weird gadget or two, but those are treated more as props than jokes.

No, the jokes here are, you guessed it: Stock sitcom jokes. With the added flair of ASSHOLES.

I’ll talk more about this in Characters, but suffice to say that most of the jokes in this show are about what assholes everyone but K.C. are. (I understood K.C. gets like this too, but so far she’s the only one I like here).

If you haven’t seen a joke before you’re just cringing at how mean the cast is to each other. And I think it’s best I just move to the next section to talk about that because that’s the main problem with this show.

CHARACTERS: 2 Out of 5

I guess it’s kinda funny that the main problem with this show has a point more than comedy, but whatever. K.C. Undercover is a family sitcom with a coat of spy paint over it, and the problems start when you realize what it’s trying to be and how it’s failing at it. Zendaya tweeted before the show’s release that she wanted K.C. Undercover to be like the Disney Channel of Old: That’s So Raven, Lizzie McGuire, Kim Possible, Proud Family. Well, here’s the thing: those shows (that i’ve seen at least, or that I know enough about to be able to tell) had sass, had characters being jerks, and had sitcom type jokes and behaviors, but they had a premise and they stuck to it, AND those characters were likable in the end (even though Proud Family has some problems with that).

Unfortunately, K.C. Undercover is anything but. Every single character outside of K.C. is an unlikable douchbag who the moment you think for a second about their words and actions becomes terrifying.

Well, that’s unfair. See, there’s Ernie, K.C’s brother, and he’s not an asshole. His role, however, is one of the most tired cliche’s in the book: Punching bag. To an extent that’s truly depressing. We’ve covered some pretty bad parents so far in these reviews, and Davenport from “Lab Rats” still is my least favorite, but giving him stiff competition are Craig and Kira Cooper. Everything they do is either not funny, old hat, or absolutely horrible! Playing favorites is bad enough as a joke, but the extents the show goes to make this “funny” only heighten the horror! They forget to drive Ernie from school because they can’t recognize his number. They blatently declare K.C. to be their favorite. They wipe his mind so he won’t know the family are spies, which also wipes out the one time he’s ever felt good about himself. They are totally fine with sending their daughter into a dangerous mission, and when she understandably asks not to do it, they’re disappointed in her because they are the only ones who see her potential!

AND THAT’S WITHOUT TALKING ABOUT MARISSA, K.C.’S BEST FRIEND! While she is less horrible, she still sucks ball! Her whole role is to be the ditzy blonde who tries to turn K.C. into a “Real Woman”. Now, Zendaya is sort of typecast as a nerd/outcast, so I guess it makes sense that she would have a friend try to make her more... Outgoing. But hearing her say things like “She’s a girl!” when K.C. wants to go to the dance, or saying that she’s happy this antisocial loner is no longer the way she is makes you wonder: How the fuck are they best friends if all she wants to do is change her?

Thankfully K.C. doesn’t listen to her. In fact, K.C. (or should I say Zendaya) is the only one here with a shred of comedy (I pity Ernie, but he’s a meh character). Zendaya’s genuine reactions that feel real even when you know they are scripted (like laughing at a silent but deadly fart weapon she has or trying to be girly) add so much to the show. You can tell she’s trying her best, and you can tell she’s carrying the show on her own. The only one with acting chops, comedic talent, anything. Easily the one thing this show has.

So we have bullshit characters who are somehow worse than the usual disney channel stock characters, comedy that sucks, what else can go wrong?

STORY AND HEART: 1 Out of 5

Oh yeah, this can go wrong too. The pilot of the show is all about how K.C. became a spy, starting off with perhaps the only good scene in the show: A cold open showcasing K.C. kicking a bad guy’s ass and being a cool spy. That’s actually pretty great! It’s a homage to the genre, and it’s a good way to set the stage for a “K.C. should believe in herself” story.

But here’s the thing: The story shoots itself in the foot. Teens being superheroes and spies and stuff is a hard subject to dangle, especially in a post Steven Universe Future world which very rightly showed that a character this young would have SO MUCH trauma. Of course, some find ways to deal with it cleverly (Spider-Man stories never shy away from how fucked up Peter’s life is) and you don’t HAVE to deal with it to make a good show (i.e Kim Possible), but there’s ignoring it so that the show can be fun and then there’s maximizing on how bad it is and saying laugh, or worse, that’s it’s ok.

Look, the show repeatedly tells me K.C. is extraordinary, smart, tough. And she IS, don’t get me wrong. But seeing her parents, two people who surely want her safe, be disappointed that she doesn’t want to fail this mission, because well she’s not good enough is horrible! The show claims only a teen could get the phone in the dance, but that’s just bullshit. A custodian clearly spies for the “bad guys”, and adult chaperons exist. Heck, all this tech and no one has facial software to look like a kid? WHY AM I ASKING THESE QUESTIONS?

I normally LOVE Characters learning to be confident stories, and thankfully K.C. doesn’t need to change herself for that, but... Like... I shouldn’t be thinking of how horrible the implications are in a fun spy show for kids.

Add that absoulute hate for Ernie and just a totaly lag of a story that could be fun if it weren’t for everyone else, and the only point goes to K.C. again for keeping me sane while watching this.

FINAL SCORE: 4 Out of 15

Bunk’d and Dog With A Blog, with all their falings, were better than this. Think about that.

Next time we have The Buzz On Maggie, the long awaited New Adventures of Winnie The Pooh review and...

Hannah... Montana...

(”Megalovania” plays)

...Oh SHIT. (For the record, I used to hate it for how overexposed it was and I have no idea if I’ll love it or hate it)..

https://docs.google.com/document/d/100qHOP9aQ1AmKbrYuc--CQAP3LQnHfsS/edit

[aleapoffaithfiction]

X.

This is not a coincidence 
And far more than a lucky chance 
But what is that was always meant 
Is our ribbon in the sky for our love, love 
- Stevie Wonder

Am I a pessimist?

History has shown that it is quite laughable that Americans celebrate Thanksgiving and yet every year, we flood the grocery stores spending hundreds of dollars to prepare a meal for a large number of people who we most likely won’t see or communicate with until the very next year when they’ve come to freeload from our dining room table all over again for the same ol’ holiday. It’s all in “thanks” though, right?

I think Thanksgiving is more of a performance for my mother than it is a time for thankfulness and bonding. It often feels like the event of the month for the neighborhood and she seems to hypothetically leave the door open for anyone to either drop by to have a couple of words with her or sit down to have a plate of the feast made by the hands of she, my sister, and myself. It’s also a day for her to head into her closet to pull out pieces of her more expensive attire that she likely purchased with my Nordstrom credit card. Today, when the apron came off, she only claimed to be freshening up, but upon exiting her bedroom she was donning a Roland Mouret dress and Christian Louboutin “Piagelle” pumps. I found myself scratching my head in confusion at the manner in which the pale orange material skimmed over her frame like a second skin. Though subtle, the seams were angular in their waist-defining approach. I hadn’t seen her wear anything that formfitting since the last date night she and my father enjoyed before his untimely death. The pearl set she paired with it was typical. She swears every woman should have a set of them though the world has certainly moved on to strictly gem stones. Thankfully, she didn’t put together a clutch bag or purse because I probably would have screamed in mental agony at how ridiculous she would have looked. Like a woman competing for a pageant, she’s been working the rooms filled with people all throughout the house for clout that she doesn’t need in the slightest.

“You still hiding in this corner?” I didn’t have to look up to know it was Kyle. Every year he flies up here from Miami to spend the holiday with Preston and my sister, so he ends spending the holiday right here in Brooklyn at my mom’s like the rest of us. Initially, I thought they’d pushed Kyle in my direction because we’re not that far apart in age and could probably relate on some things, but over these past two years I now know it’s because yet again Celeste thinks that she’s found someone who can be a good match for me. She does her most fucked up rendition of cupid whenever she comes across a man who she’d be interested in herself if she weren’t married and then she pushes him in my direction. I fell for her bullshit with Shamel but it will never happen again. Also, her husband’s brother? That’s entirely too close for comfort.

“It’s my preferred place to be when I’m not feeling the atmosphere.”

“What are you drinking?”

“Merlot.” I’ve been babysitting this glass of wine for over an hour now. My tongue is yearning for a Don Julio Paloma. If I don’t get home too late tonight, I’m absolutely going to fix one for myself while I watch whatever movie that’s OnDemand that I missed out on while it was in the theaters.

“I think Preston has some Barcardi in there. You want some?”

“No, I’m okay with this.” I only made the decision to indulge as a literal painkiller. I needed something to relax my body after having mostly been on my feet since early yesterday morning when I was rushed out of my bed to go and pick up a few last-minute items from Walmart.

I had no choice but to leave Odell tangled in top sheet and blanket as I quietly readied myself and put together an overnight bag for the following day. I thought I’d at least be able to make him breakfast but her demanding phone calls did not cease until I was actually at the store. As of now, my feet are viciously aching and I barely have enough energy to move my mouth to speak to everyone, let alone walk around. I’ve been wanting to go to sleep since I ate and I’m mentally cursing myself out for choosing to wear these boots, though they’re one of my most comfortable pairs.

“I think it’s cool that you all host this every year. My family always went to my grandmother’s for holidays. We never hosted anything at the house because my folks were never into that.” Neither am I. Maybe that’ll change when I have my own family, but as of right now, I’d rather keep my home as the safe haven that it is.

“Yeah, we’ve been doing it as far back as my memory goes. I feel like my father set the precedent. He was a people person and chose to have an open-door policy within the neighborhood. It used to be the one trait about him that drove my mother insane, but somehow, she adjusted to it and opened herself up to understanding why he chose to be that way. If people needed anything, they knew they could come here and we’d help out somehow. I guess you can say that our blessings were fruitful so that we’d be able to share them with others.” Though he’s no longer with us, I’ve kept his gems about being about the community embedded into my conscious. I donate to women’s shelters, the Boys and Girls Clubs, afterschool programs within the inner-city schools, and I’m working on creating recreational weekend sports camps for this up and coming summer.

“You look a lot like him.”

“Yeah, my looks definitely lean in his direction.”

“Great looks, by the way.” With a faint chuckle, my shoulders slouched in an adjustment for the slight aches in my back. Living alone has its perks and not having to constantly stand in front of a hot stove every day is one of them. The last time I stood on my feet for hours cooking was last year, this time. I’m just not used to it.

“Thanks, Kyle.”

“So, what’s it like being on ESPN? I know that it was always a dream of yours and it’s cool as hell to see you sitting up there. I feel like often times when we look at public figures on television, it almost seems like jobs like that are so far out of our reach and yet look at you. It’s impressive.”

“It’s great. It still feels surreal and then it has its pressure and stressfulness too. It’s a job in every single sense and I think a lot of people don’t think about it that way. A lot of people look at the glitz and glamor of it, but there’s so much that goes into our panel being able to sit there and entertain people every morning with our sports knowledge and banter.”

“I believe you. I know there’ll be a lot of work to put in for it, but is the goal to have your own show?”

“I don’t know. I’ve thought about it and sometimes it sounds ideal and other times I feel like I want to do something more. I don’t know if I want to spend the rest of my life on television but I probably wouldn’t mind it either depending up on the circumstances. I’m trying to figure that out. I know I want to create my own sports platform or possibly be in collaboration with another black creative or many of them to create something for us and by us. I can try and get our people in the door at ESPN but that final say isn’t mine, you know? And that fucks with me.” It still makes me chuckle when people call Scott the “token white” on our panel but it makes perfect sense in all of the wrong ways. His overdone sarcasm and constant need to play the devil’s advocate doesn’t negate his talent but could they have added a black journalist in his place? Would they have is the real question? I can’t call it.

“I feel you. I feel the same way. In tech, there aren’t many of us. I spend a lot of time going to speak at historically black colleges to persuade students to bring their talents to the field. You’d be surprised how a lot of the internal parts or software programming for some of our favorite gadgets are created from ideas young talented blacks have either sold or got swept under the table over due to fucked up contracts. I’m doing my best to change that reality, because I’m not slaving for anybody and none of us shouldn’t have to.”

“Cheers to that.” As our glasses clinked, I nodded in appreciation. Kyle and I always have great conversations and if Celeste weren’t so pressed for me to romantically pursue him, I think we’d be great friends. He’s progressive in all the right ways.

“Pictures please! You know I do a Facebook photo album every year. Stand up Sarai.” She came out of nowhere like a bat out of hell. I hadn’t even heard her Jimmy Choos clacking against the floor. I’m now finally realizing that both she and mommy have the same curls in their hair. What a kiss ass. I’ve been rocking a hat since guests began to arrive. After having sweated out my hair in the kitchen, I couldn’t be bothered with slaving in the bathroom with a flat iron trying to fix the pity. This slicked back ponytail will have to be until Anna fixes me up tomorrow.

“I’m not standing up.”

“Don’t be a sour grape.”

“My feet hurt. You can take one or two with me sitting right here.” Though she prepared her phone for the photos, it didn’t happen without her childishly rolling her eyes and stomping one heel clad foot. Kyle allowed it to be a solo moment by standing up and stepping away from the warm mantle of the fireplace. Even with the bit of makeup I put on to mask the exhaustion, I know I’m not in a picture worthy state but I’ll compromise for the sake of not having to hear her go on an attention seeking rant.

“Can you at least smile?”

“This is not a photo shoot. Take the pictures and send them to me when you finish. You’re not going to have me looking crazy online.” She took them, but without flash, and that within itself left me weary of her intentions. I’m slumming it in my joggers and this little off the shoulder top I randomly found on a clearance rack at Wet Seal. It damn near looks like I dressed myself in pure darkness but I’m making it work enough for myself alone. I wasn’t wearing pearls either way.

“I sent them. They’re cute.”

Surprisingly, they are. Daddy swears both Celeste and I get our photographic nature from our mother. He had a thing for constantly either videotaping or snapping pictures of us around the house or during family outings. Keepsakes of that kind have always been a tradition on his side of the family and he felt compelled to instill that in our household so that the future generations could use it all to piece together our family’s tree and history.

Everything we have is idly collecting sheets of dust in the lower cabinets of the entertainment center in the living and that’s where they’ll remain until someone has the courage to pull them out for what is sure to be the most draining emotional rollercoaster that any of us needs right now. I’m still trying to figure out how to navigate my memories of him, so I’d rather not clog it with better detailing about our days. I don’t know when I’ll get to the point of complete acceptance with a clear conscious but I’m with dealing it. For now, that’s enough.

I felt like a booty call gone wrong when you just got up and left like that. I woke up like, oh wow…

Heat flushed through my face as a fit of giggles erupted from my core at his nonsense. Not only did I text him and let him know that I left, but I wrote down the security code for the security system so he’d be able to lock the door whenever he planned to leave out.

How did you feel like a booty call when I left you in my bed? It’s not like I walked out of a hotel room on you. No one leaves booty calls in their own beds. If anything, I treated you like a booty call that I plan on calling again.

I considered waking him up, but the serene expression on his sleeping face halted my actions. The side of his face was meshed into the plush pillow on my side of the bed once he readjusted his position and though he reached for me, my absence didn’t wake him.

Oh, so that’s all I’m good for?

I despise how he has the capability of making me blush with his silly little banter and presence alone. It’s a naturalness that I’ve never experience at any of point of my life thus far and comprehending it seems undoable. My grandmother used to say that sometimes we don’t need to think but instead just feel but that is by far the most perplexing statement I’ve ever heard. All I know how to do is think, especially over these last couple of years.

Don’t be offended. At least I like it.

Like it? Lately I’ve been questioning if that’s enough to describe it. Liking it would be simple and this is anything but simple. I can do simple and blow it out of my way, but this? It’s a fucking enigma.

Happy Thanksgiving gorgeous. I’m rocking the boot today. Everyone is loving it.

Unexpectedly, an impromptu picture of himself standing in front of the grandeur double doors of his home followed his message. Per his usual, he was in loud textures that only he can get away with and hilariously covered in winter attire above the waist and summer attire below it. He wouldn’t be himself without having the crimson Supreme crossbody bag around him to perfectly match the boot. Oh, and how can I forget the phone case? Everything about his style would reek of hypebeast if it were anyone else and yet for him, it’s as uniquely expressive as his personality can be.

Handsome.

And that he is. It’s throttling.

Thank you, baby. Send me something.

The prickling in my dampening skin worsened my posture. I’ve never sent racy photographs to any man and yet the thought of sending a few to him is doing more to me than I understand, though that’s not what he’s requesting. Shamel would request them from me quite often and I’d deny him every time because the thought of laying back somewhere and spreading my thighs for a photograph of something that I barely wanted to give to him was unwarranted. On birthdays and holidays, I’d get pieces of lingerie that were satisfying to his eyes rather than well thought out gifts with aspects of my taste involved in the selection process and all of it was left in a box on the side of the street when I moved. I didn’t even deem it worthy enough to be sent out to the shelters and Goodwill's that I donate plenty of my things to.

I couldn’t bother with putting on anything special because I’m in no mood for that, so don’t judge me.

I bit the bullet by sending one of the pictures taken by the ever-nagging Celeste. Now that I’m looking at it, I know damn well I could have put on a pair of jeans with this flannel shirt.

You’re the epitome of beauty in every sense.

Not even the sudden presence of Quinton’s frame walking past me could put a damper on the gut-wrenching fluttering uncontrollably multiplying throughout every bit of me as I read his words over a few times. Does he know what he’s doing to me? Has he called my bluff? Am I exposed?

Even with a bad hair day?

I’m not completely aware of all of the details of his dating history but I’ve seen the women he has been rumored to have dated and much like anything would expect, they’re picture perfect. I don’t fit into the mold of those ideal body types who have all of their curves in the right places with a perfect set of perky boobs and an ass that is sure to make any man look back twice. I don’t even understand my shape enough to be able to describe it but I do my best to work with what I have.

Once upon a time, I thought about ridding myself of my breast insecurities by having a fat transfer done to plump them up without having to have implants inserted. Shamel didn’t make the situation any better by agreeing that I’d go from average to a dime piece if I did so. He even offered to pay for it if the insurance wouldn’t. When he and I split, I finally had the time to really sit down and consider if it was something that I desired to do for myself and it was then that I let the idea of it go. I am who I am. Laying on a surgeons table was never going to fix the issues within my mental space.

What bad hair day? I don’t see a single hair out of place. Am I still seeing you tonight? I miss you. I know it sounds weird for me to say that because we were just together, but I really do.

Not only am I physically drained and in need of my bed, but I also have to work tomorrow. I considered making this weekend a four-day weekend for myself last week but it slipped my mind to request the day off.

It doesn’t sound weird. I miss you too. I’m so tired though. You don’t want sleepy company, do you? I just want to lay in the bed.

I’m purposefully sitting on this bricked fireplace, because it’s uncomfortable and keeping me from dozing off somewhere.

Well, my bed is waiting for you to come and go to sleep in it. I don’t mind sleepy company at all. Come on.

I’m still very convinced that the universe is somehow trolling my life for whatever reason. Where did this man come from? When my prayers go beyond my loved ones and I began my requests to the man above for myself, I only pray for peace. This isn’t peace. It’s disruptive, confusing, and yet so damn earth shattering.

I’ll let you know when I’m on my way. I have work tomorrow, so I have to head to my house to grab some things so that I’ll be able to properly ready myself in the morning.

Hopefully, it’s not too late.

Sounds good. See you in a bit. Oh, and bring me some red velvet cake.

It took an additional twenty minutes of me idly sitting there to muster up the strength to move. Upon observing the room, Quinton walked past me twice without a word spoken and though it didn’t trouble me, I can’t say that I’m not shocked about his chosen tension and immaturity. I thought we’d be better than that because as he said, we have a history, and it goes beyond a date that didn’t turn out the way he wanted it to.

You win some, you lose some. Despite everything said between the two of us that night, I haven’t held any of it against his character and I probably never will because I honestly do believe that he’s a good guy with a good heart. I just think he’s lost track of who he is beyond the political career and until he figures that out, he will continue to make superficial decisions for his life all for the sake of upholding a specific public image.

“You coming to eat again?” Though everything else remain perfectly in place, mommy finally removed the heels and comfortably leaned against the kitchen’s island in a pair of Nike slippers she took out of my closet about two months ago.

“No. I can’t eat another bite. I’m just going to take some dessert with me for right now and then I’ll come over tomorrow after work for anything else I have a taste for.” I’m going to bring Beckham some red velvet cake, pineapple upside-down rum cake, and a bit of banana pudding. That should more than satisfy his sweet tooth. I handled all of the desserts this year. Next year, I’ll be damned if Celeste doesn’t help me.

“You look tired. I told you if you’d get into that kitchen of yours more often, you’d be used to this.”

“Cooking for a neighborhood of people? Not really.”

“Cooking for your family.”

“I cooked with my family, which counts for something. I don’t have a family of my own and I’m not sure if or when that’s going to happen for me, so I haven’t cared to train myself. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. The fact is, I actually do know how to cook, so I’ll be fine either way.”

“You could have a family of your own but you choose to avoid it.” If I’m avoiding anything, it’s where this conversation is about to go.

“With Quinton? Yeah, I’m sure that makes sense to you but it never will for me and I don’t appreciate you inserting yourself into that situation. I’m perfectly capable of choosing who I will and will not involve myself with romantically. I don’t need any lobs or assists from you.”

“If you’re so capable of choosing, why haven’t you chosen anyone? Why is he not worthy of a proper chance? You didn’t even try.”

“There was nothing to try. I’m not interested. I get it, though. It looks like it makes sense since we come from the same background, have success stories while coming out of the same neighborhood, and his mother and yourself can relate in ways that are both painful and triumphant, but it’s not going to work for me.” Quinton and I look good on paper. We’re ideal in the general sense, but anything beyond that? We’re a disaster waiting to happen.

“So, what is? You live in that huge home of yours all alone and you want to do that for the rest of your life? I worry that you’ll actually do that. Companionship is a good thing, Sarai. Having someone around to balance out life with you is healthy. Celeste has her own life and though I am your mother, you need more than just my shoulder to lean on whenever you take a break from that overly done independent woman rampage, you’re on.” Rampage? If anyone’s on a rampage, it’s her. She’s on a rampage for me to be barefoot and pregnant while being subservient to someone not even worth my troubles.

“Whatever I do will be my decision and I’ll have to live with that, not you. You’re so adamant about all of this, but you don’t even know half of the shit I went through with Shamel. So, excuse me for not being as enthusiastic about settling down as you need me to be. As I said before, I don’t know if or when it’ll happen, but I’ll be okay either way. Sometimes I wonder if the only time you’ll be proud of me is when I put on a big fluffy white dress and vow my life over to someone, because you certainly don’t show it when it comes to anything else that I do.”

“Oh, nonsense. Don’t do that Sarai. You know that I’m proud of you.”

“Well, you have a poor way of showing it. Excuse me.”

I had to put the banana pudding in a small plastic to go bowl because I didn’t want it to touch the pieces of cake I had on the plate. I don’t know about him, but occasionally I can be super anal when certain food touches one another. It throws the taste off.

“It’s late and since the crowd in here has died down, I’m going to head home. I have to work in the morning. I’ll be over here tomorrow.”

“You sure about that?”

“I’m sure.” I’m not cooking anything, so leftovers it is. I’m definitely coming.

“Well, give me a hug and kiss before you go.” I fulfilled her request immediately. I would have done so whether she asked or not. No matter what we disagree about, she is my mother. I don’t allow our indifference to steer me from that reality. I have one parent now and I’m going to nurture that as best as I can for as long as I’m granted to. I’d rather not live with any regrets.

“Drive safely and let us know when you get home.”

“Will do.”

People being slumped inside of the comfort of their homes or someone else’s seemed to keep the traffic down. I avoided the tolls by taking the FDR drive and Harlem River drive to Hudson Terrance in Fort Lee. Even Exit 73 was clear and I always tend to hit a bit of a slowdown whenever I’m coming from that direction.

The sight of my bed enticed me like no other as I lazily put together all that I needed to make the morning go as smoothly as possible while I drag and dread having to make that commute to Bristol. I’m going to need the most potently caffeinated cup of coffee while driving myself up there and I’ll probably need another for the commute back. That aside, having no plans for the weekend is absolutely official. I intend to sleep until my body can’t take it anymore.

On my way.

The anticipation to be within his presence battled the fatigue like the fiercest gladiator and that yearning carried me back out of the door and into my car. Even if I attempted to pass out, the guilt of standing him up would have kept me wide awake and staring up at my ceiling. I’m not even sure what to call Beckham but he’s my…something.

Taylor’s my person in the same manner that Meredith Grey is to Christina Yang. Is Beckham, McDreamy? Are our souls tying within that manner? It’s terrifying to think about and even more distressing to know that in some manner, it feels that way.

With Eris and Khan idly walking around the entry driveway to his home, there he sat awaiting my presence. It was the sight of the headlights that alert him to stand to his feet and I barely had the car in park before he was standing alongside the driver’s side of it.

“Glad you made it safely.” As the seatbelt slid back into its proper position, he leaned in and I instantly pressed my lips into the warmth of his for the kiss we both seemed to have been anticipating.

“You didn’t have to wait out here in the cold. I could have rung the bell.”

“It’s nothing. It’s not that bad out here anyway.” It was his strength that pulled me out of the seat and I was thankful for it because I know I would have sat there for much longer than necessary. The Chanel bag he gifted to me was all I had to carry inside, because he handled the rest.

The chattering coming from the kitchen and the low music was to be expected but with it nearing almost midnight, it was clear that whatever crowd he had in the house before had already gone home.

“That’s momma, Jazzy, and Kordell in there. They knew you were coming. You cool with saying hey?”

“Of course. I can’t just come in here and not speak.”

“You’re tired.”

“Tired, but not rude.”

There’s something about being in the house with his family that unnerved me. It’s not their presence but instead the circumstances for why I’m here. Family tends to be perceptive and how would his feel knowing that I’m likely going to lay alongside him in his bed tonight as I rest? It’ll be no marital bed.

Despite our ages, it doesn’t prevent people from side eying or negativity whispering about whatever it is they’re frowning down upon. Heather and I mutually admire one another and I’d hate for her to no longer feel the same way about me or believe that I’m a poor influence for her daughter.

“Sarai! You made it. Happy Thanksgiving.” Her long arms pulled me in for the bear hugs that she always gives. They’re comforting and reassuring; maternal and yet friendly all at once.

“Happy Thanksgiving. How are you?”

“I’m so good. Look Jazzy. Meet Sarai. Sarai this is O’s little sister Jasmine and his little brother Kordell. Sonny’s sleeping.”  In some ways, the both of them resemble him, especially Kordell. He’s literally the milk chocolate version of his older brother. In just my short moments of observing him, they also have similar mannerisms in the way they shift and squint their eyes.

“Wait, so this is your girl? This is the one? She be on TV with Kobe.”

“Kordell, shut up. It’s nice to meet you, Sarai. My brother speaks very highly of you.”

“You do too. Don’t try to water down the fangirling you be doing.” Beckham needed to put them on blast in order to save himself from the playful embarrassment they were attempting to inflict on him. I was once just as annoying to Celeste whenever she’d bring company over to the house. Even though we didn’t share a room, I’d deliberately invade her privacy just to be an annoying ass.

“I am a fan.” There was pride in her tone.

“I appreciate it Jazzy. Thank you.”

“How was your Thanksgiving? Did you spend it with family?” In her usual behavior whenever I’m here, Eris circled my feet and I leaned over to give her the attention she craved.

“It was nice. I spent it in Brooklyn with my mom, sister, and brother-in-law. Some family stopped by and a whole bunch of neighborhood friends. My mom likes to do it big for Thanksgiving, so it was busy.”

“It sounds like a good time though.”

“It was. It turned out nicely.” People kept the peace. I suppose that’s nice enough. I’ve been at family functions when shit has gone left and arguments happened.

“That’s good. Are you hungry? We have plenty.”

“I’m stuffed, but I love leftovers, so tomorrow sounds like a plan.” I could raid his fridge and my mothers. Either way, I can’t lose.

“You’re welcome to whatever you like. We were just getting ready to start…” Before she could finish the statement about the UNO game they were soon to begin, her impatient son cut her off.

“She’s tired. She has to get up for work in the morning.”

“If you wanted her all to yourself, all you had to do was say so.” What his siblings didn’t accomplish, she had. The rosiness flushing throughout his face tickled me into an uncontrollable laughter, that eventually both his mother and sister joined in on.

“She really does have to get up for work in the morning.”

“I do, but I can play a round of UNO. It’s no big deal.”

“You can play tomorrow. You need to sleep.” He held his hand out for me as if I were a stubborn child. If I weren’t so tired, I would have given him a run for his money at one of my all-time favorite card games. I know he hates losing.

“Well, goodnight.” I waved before latching my hand onto his own. Can this get anymore awkward? I should have just told him to come over to my place. Next time, I will.

“Goodnight.” It was all in unison with their attention completely locked into to whatever they assume is going on between one of the most important people to them and myself. I’m not sure what he’s told them but they’re well aware that we’re beyond just being friendly. At this point, even the dimmest person could pick up on it.

“I put extra towels, wash clothes, and a toothbrush in the bathroom for you. I’m not sure if you brought your own soap, but I took some Dove body wash from out of the bathroom my momma uses whenever she’s in town and staying here. I’ll plug your phone up and sit it on the nightstand for you.”

As soon as I removed my coat, he grabbed it and walked off to hang it on the outskirts of his closet. I’d been in his bedroom before but I didn’t necessarily observe every detail about it, but it’s very telling of the demanding career that he leads. Though a master suite in size, it’s fairly simple in décor and yet exudes the masculinity that I expect. Given that he’s highly detailed and puts plenty of thought into the attire that covers his body, I’m surprised that he hasn’t hired an interior design team to come in and turn the entire house into something out of an art gallery.

“I know you’re not hungry, but do you want anything to drink?” While I rummaged through my bag, I could hear the paws of the doors pattering against the wooden floors as they made their way into his personal space.

“No, I’m okay. I do need something to sleep in though. My sleepy ass forgot to pack that.” I don’t even remember attempting to find pajamas. I was so preoccupied with finding the perfect dress to wear on air and after that, decorating for Christmas. There’s always a mixture of dread and excitement about that. That’s one of the downsides of living alone. I have to spend days putting everything up on my own and it’s not easy.

“I got you. Hold on.” Yet again, he headed in the direction of his closet. At home? I only sleep in actual pajamas if I have company. Other than that, I’m usually in bed in damn near nothing. It’s comfortable and less of a hassle.

“Okay, here’s a shirt.” I knew it would be something Giants related. I’m sure that he has thousands of team related shirts that he hasn’t worn.

“What kind of shorts do you want? The cotton Nike ones are soft and light. Or do you want sweats? You want socks too?”

“The shirt is fine. That’s all I need.” Everything else will eventually end up on the floor if I put them on.

“Okay.”

I didn’t have to ask for privacy. As soon as he placed the shirt on the bed, I was left alone with the dogs once he walked out and closed the door behind himself. He’d given me more than enough time to change, brush my teeth, and even get settled into the coziness of his California king bed. The plushness of his ice grey down comforter was coaxing me into the perfect relaxation for slumber and yet I couldn’t refrain from rocking my hips, snapping my fingers, and mumbling along to Stevie Wonder’s “Higher Ground”. It wasn’t loud at all, but the volume was up just enough for me to be able to make out the song. Stevie’s soulfulness has always been a part of the extensive musical collection in my mother’s living room. His sounds were our Saturday morning clean up music during my childhood and that tradition followed me all the way to my own home.

“You’re an old soul too?” His amusement didn’t go unnoticed upon his reentry.

“I don’t have much of a choice but to be that. I get it from the two who made me.” I wonder if he allows the dogs on the bed. If it were my bed, I’d allow it. They’re so lovable, even in their massive size and intimidating demeanors.

“Stevie’s only on because my momma’s here. This is a Future household.” He could barely contain his own laughter. Future?

“Oh, how enjoying it is to listen to the misogynistic raps of Hip-Hop’s walking sperm bank.” Why do women fuck Future? I need a 60 Minutes episode about that.

“He’s just misunderstood.”

“I will kick you out of your own room. Misunderstood? He’s a demon.” Though I couldn’t see him, I could hear his laughter loud and clear. I can’t front, I can and will hit the dance floor to some of those infectious trap records created by the Atlanta native but the antics of his personal life are atrocious. No, but seriously, why do women subject themselves to him? Is the dick that lethal?

“A demon huh?” I couldn’t respond. The muscles in my throat contracted into a tightness that forced my frame back against the pillows as my lips fell agape at the sight of his tattoo covered skin. His chiseled abs aside, there’s something about the manner in which the ink is etched into his golden skin that is worthy of being displayed in the Louvre. Every bit of it tells a story that I want to run my fingers over and know thoroughly from start to finish. I want to plant kisses on the areas that are representative of past pain and marvel over those that are picturesque versions of his triumph.

“That’s exactly what he is.” I wasn’t as edgy as I am now when he was in my bed and yet as he joins me in his own, I nearly want to run to the opposite side of the room. As he did that night, he stretched out his arm to invite me into his space and I slid over to the middle of the bed to meet his warmth. With one press of a button near the bed, the lights were off, setting the complete mood for the few hours of sleep that I’m going to get.

“Am I forcing you to go to bed early? You’re a night owl.”

“I’m only a night owl because having surgery ruined my sleep schedule. When you don’t have much else to do, you tend to occupy your time with crap that’ll keep you up. Video games were it for me.”

“I miss being a night owl. Nowadays, I struggle staying up past ten. This is why I hope the show moves to New York. We’re currently in on and off negotiations about that. We’re also tossing around the idea of doing a few weeks in the Los Angeles during the summers with a live audience just to change the scenery of the show. Hopefully it goes through.”

“That would be great. You’d be closer to home and L.A. is always a nice change of scenery. I’m sure Kobe would love that too.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely the one who’s advocating for that idea.”

“And we’d be together in either city, because the timing would permit it. That’s perfect, actually.” He does spend his off seasons in the West, so I can see why he made note of that.

“It could be perfect. Fingers crossed; it works out.”

Our limbs were like magnets as they intertwined at different points and he’d idly plant a kiss on my forehead seemingly every ten to fifteen seconds.

I wouldn’t consider either one of us worthy of musical recording contracts and yet as the medley of Stevie’s “Ribbon in the Sky” faintly played below us, hums from the both of us drowned out his vocal delivery. The depth and rasp of his lulled me beyond what his warmth and the comfort was already doing. It inflicted a tranquil sense of drowning that I welcomed and yet the manner in which is large palm lightly grazed over the heated skin of my inner thigh ignited a ravenous blaze for him. The seat of my flimsy barely there panties dampened with every thrashing throb of my center. I haven’t been touched in so long, I’m afraid to know if I just unraveled from a gesture so simple.

A dewiness flushed over my skin as my heart thumped against my chest in a quickened rage. The pressure ignited that natural yearning that any woman should have when lying next to the man of her affection and I have no way of being able to reach over to my own nightstand, open the draw, and grab the blackened vibrating device to handle this myself. I had to move over for the sake of my sanity and most of all, to lessen the possibility of humiliation. His now resting body didn’t allow the distance to last as long as I needed it to.

Yet again, his hand met the inside of my thigh and drew me into his side as I once was before. The aroma of his intoxicating fragrance slithered up my nose as I was locked into place with his arm, which coaxed me to whimper at such an endearing torture.

God, help me.

The scenic sunrise was my company in the shower after hitting the snooze button twice to extend the comfort that I didn’t want to lose. With a lack of regard for time, I prolonged my minutes in his state-of-the-art shower just as much. It’s the first time in a long time that I’m sorrowfully dreading stepping onto that set to do what I love to do.

“Good morning.” I attempted to be quiet but I must have not done a good enough job. As his frame towered behind me, he trailed kisses up my back, ahead of the zipper that he was pulling up from the back of my maroon pencil style dress. At home, I unraveled a wire hanger and turned it into my own personal hooked zipper closer. I prefer this. The feel of his lips pressing against my skin and the aura of his being surrounding me supersedes that any day.

“Good morning.”

Although I’ll be doing my make-up routine in my dressing room, I still moisturized my face and applied a decent amount of lip gloss to my lips as while he stood at the sink brushing his teeth. I’m not even sure if concealer will be able to do much hiding of my exhaustion today. My eyes are literally burning because they’re open and I have a budding headache just waiting to worsen as soon as I walk out of the door.

“I’m going downstairs to let the dogs outside.”

“Okay.”

I chose comfort for the commute with my favorite black Nike slippers and carried my Jimmy Choo pumps in the dust bag I keep them protected in. I didn’t bother switching purses, although the Chanel one is no match to this dress. No one’s going to see it and right now, I don’t give a shit.

While sitting on the bed, I texted Chad to take pictures of the agenda and send it over so that I can glance over it once I hit traffic, because there’s no doubt that maybe forty minutes into the commute, I will. If I can get a head start on reading over it, our briefing will be a few minutes and I’ll be able to take somewhat of a cat nap before we’re on air. If I’m not mistaken, Isaiah Thomas is coming by to speak with us today about how he’s adjusting to life in Cleveland. Boston’s decision to trade him was one hell of a shocker to the public and a blow that he took extremely personally after not only dedicating all of his loyalty to the team, but even continuing to do so after the loss of his sister. So, no matter how worn out I am, I certainly want to be alert to ask him a few of my own burning questions.

Yet again, I did my best to remain quiet as I maneuvered through the second floor of the house and descended down the staircase to the first. No one else was awake with the exception of us and the dogs, who were all highly alert and within close proximity to me.

“I thought you’d come down sooner.” He was in the silver reflective goose coat that he greeted me in last night and I’m even more in love with it now. If I can’t find it to buy on my own, I’m going to plead with him for his because he’s probably never going to wear it again. I have some Maison Martin Margiela boots that would be perfect with it.

“I’m dragging. What’s that?”

“Your breakfast.” In one hand is what appears to be some kind of a green thick smoothie and in the other is a bag with God knows what in it. He hates coffee and the way it makes him feel, so the smoothie makes sense.

“Thank you, babe.”

“Uhm. You coming back here when you get off?” With every inch we moved closer to the door, his four-legged protectors were right along with us.

“After I drop by my mom’s.”

“Okay.”

The awaiting SUV completely caught me off guard because I hadn’t requested a driver. Should I have? Absolutely, because I don’t feel like driving, but did I? Nope. I didn’t do a lot of things that I should have done this week. This is why I need to spend my weekend in the bed.

“You called?”

“You’re tired.”

His simple explanation made more sense than anything that I can think of.

“While you’re at work, think about coming to Louisiana with me.” He held my things while I slid into the backseat. Louisiana?

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No.”

“What’s in Louisiana?”

“Home.” I already knew the answer and yet I asked.

“I’ll consider it.”

“That’s all I ask. Gimmie them lips.” There was no hesitation. If anything, it was lingering and nearly enough to make me truant on ESPN.

“I’ll be watching.”

“Thank you. See you later.” I snuck another taste of his lips for a good day and closed the door on my own.

I prepared to nearly gag at the green concoction he blended together for me, but ended up pleasantly surprised at its appeasing taste. Though it was kale, the medley of pineapple, mango, and banana served as a balance. Inside of the bag? Chobani yogurt, crackers, and Sargento string cheese. He remembered my odd choices for a favorite snack. I never remember to put together any of that stuff the night before or right before I’m leaving out for work. I don’t even need to stop for a crappy sandwich at Dunkin Donuts now. I owe him, because this is perfect.

“Any requests for the radio ma’am or should I turn the Bluetooth on?”

“Bluetooth, please.”

I let my Stevie Wonder playlist on Apple Music do its thing. “Signed, Sealed, Delivered” instantly began my usual solo backseat party. Usually it happens on a Friday as I’m on my way home from work, but on this particular Friday, I’ll be partying both ways.

Louisiana sounds like a nice trip.

[purplesurveys]

633

If you had a parrot, what would be the first word you would teach it? I’d probably teach it something polite because I’ve noticed all parrot owners almost always teach their birds bad words lmao and it’s not that funny anymore. I wouldn’t be opposed to teaching them some lame slang too, like ‘it’s lit’ haha.

What food have you eaten the most lately? Instant noodles because my mom finally gave in to our requests and started buying packs of our favorite brand again. Some context: it was almost all we ever ate as kids, so she stopped buying it for a while (and rightfully so) because of all the unhealthy stuff that’s in it.

Where you ever a Pokemon fan? I was a huge fan from the ages of 8-10. It started when my cousin got Pokemon games on his Gameboy Advance, and then it spilled over to us watching the anime every night and eventually, I collected the cards and pogs as well. We also bought one of two volumes of the Pokemon Omnibus books that they released.

How would you describe the taste of water? It’s just tasteless to me, but then it tastes so refreshing. I know water isn’t good enough if there’s a certain taste that comes along with it, because it’s supposed to just be tasteless and crisp. 

Do you think books are going out of fashion? Not at all. All my friends are into reading, and they never grew out of their bookworminess. Which is honestly great, because I wouldn’t want them to end up like me, who was a big bibliophile as a kid but eventually stopped reading.

One thing you miss about being a kid: Being able to make friends with anybody, whether it be a day-long bond or a friendship for the long run. I know it’s not applicable to all kids, but I’d say I was one of those who was able to blend in at birthday parties or daytrips to water resorts and all that stuff.

What is the best product made from milk? Meh, I’m not the best person to ask about this given that I’m lactose intolerant lololol, but I doooooo love mozzarella and ricotta cheese.

How would you feel if your husband didn’t want to wear a wedding ring? I’d be pretty puzzled if my future spouse wouldn’t want to wear theirs. I’d understand if they removed it for work, but I’d raise eyebrows if they didn’t want to wear it, period.

Do you say Autumn or Fall? My Southeast Asian ass can’t relate to either.

What is your biggest “what if”? I don’t have any, because I make it a point to avoid thinking about them. I’ve heard so many of my friends mull over their what ifs and how miserable they are about them, so I know better than to dwell on mine.

What is the worst movie you have ever seen? I had a go-to answer for this many years ago, but I forgot the name of the movie by now and I’m honestly glad that’s the case. But other than that, one of the all-time worsts is the Jack & Jill movie with Adam Sandler, and a recent bad one (for me) would be Knives Out. Of course, I never liked whodunits and I generally dislike dialogue-y and fast-paced movies, so I’m pretty biased in citing that.

Have you ever spelled your own name wrong? I don’t think so. Mine was the less popular spelling of Robin, so I definitely remembered to spell it properly because everyone else was already misspelling it.

What do you want your wedding song to be? I’ve never given much thought about this. Sparks by Coldplay was one of our og songs, but the most that it is right now is just a mere option. 

What is your favorite fairytale? I never liked fairytales.

True/False : If it’s meant to be, it will be. Not always. You have to work for it sometimes, too.

What electronic of yours dies the quickest? My phone, but that’s just because I had to pick and because, to be fair, I use it too much :(((( But I’m okay with the battery lives of all my gadgets.

Do you think we learn some useless things in school? Math and English have been pretty useless to me, but a lot of my other lessons, such as history, economics, physics, etc. still come in handy these days.

Do you feel like your life would be better without a certain person in it? Not really. I’m okay with the people I have now, family and friends alike. I tune out who I choose to tune out, and that’s enough for me.

Who has influenced your music taste the most? Athenna was a huge influence, which I feel bittersweet about now because I had to cut her out of my life a few years ago. She introduced me to Banks, Walk the Moon, and Twnety One Pilots, among other amazing artists. Gab has also been pretty influential – she’s made me a fan of alt-J, BP Valenzuela, Hozier, and a bigger fan of Coldplay.

What did you get your mom for Mother’s Day? We don’t really get her stuff. We greet her and have quality time together.

You go to the restroom and you see a huge spider, what do you do? Try to swat it out of the way.

what’s something you want but will probably never get? A PhD, because I’m too lazy to earn one haha.

Do you like reading scary books? I did enjoy reading my cousin’s Goosebumps as a kid, but I’m not into reading in general these days.

Is there a game your addicted to you? Currently, Luigi’s Mansion 3. <– Yooooo, my sister is OBSESSED with this game and watches playthroughs of it all day. She’s eyeing it as one of the next few games that we’re buying for the Switch.

Do you get embarrassed when your stomach growls in class? No. If anything that lets the teacher or prof know that I’m bored and/or hungry. Plus it’s an easy way to make the class laugh, and that’s always a good thing haha.

Do crying people make you uncomfortable? If it’s happy tears than yeah hahaha. If they’re sad tears I’m usually willing to be a shoulder to cry on. Would you ever marry someone your parents didn’t approve of? It’d be hard, but in the end it’s my relationship and they’d have no say.

Whats one thing you’re completely terrible at? Knitting. Origami. Any art stuff.

what is the nearest thing to you that is red? I’m very close to the wifi thingy that we have up on the rooftop and there’s a small red light coming from it.

what kind of camera do you own? I just use the one in my phone.

Do you look older or younger than your actual age? Younger. I’ve memorized the look of shock on people’s faces whenever I tell them I’m a senior in college.

Do you think tattoos are hot? No, but I don’t mind some tattoos.

What’s the worst thing about being a teenager? The confusion, all the hormones making you cranky all day, the pressure of which course to take for college especially when you’re nowhere near ready to make a choice.

What’s the best thing about being a teenager? It’s a period of experimenting, making strong friendships, and making mistakes and learning from them.

When did you last play Monopoly? I’ve never played Monopoly because I’ve never understood how it works.

Who do you trust with your secrets? My two best friends.

As a child what celebrity did you look up to? Probably Vanessa Hudgens back in her High School Musical days? Idk, she seemed like a good role model at the time.

Do you love food more than you love people? I probably do, haha.

True or False: you this read wrong Yup.

What do you usually do on a Sunday? My family goes to 9 AM mass, then we head out for lunch, go malling for a bit, take my sister back to her dorm in Manila, then we spend the rest of the evening at home.

Have you ever met anyone with the same Birthday as you? Yes.

Do you think underwater pictures look cool? I’ve never liked underwater photos ever since I saw that photo of that vacationing scuba diving couple with the dead girl in the background.

What is the most ridiculous law you ever heard about? Nothing comes to mind right now.

Zelda or Mario? Zelda (or Link, if you’re talking about the dude) story-wise, Mario for playability haha.

[daughterofluthien]

Fictober - Day 3

Fanfiction

Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU)

Rating: T

Relationships: Peter and Tony

Warnings: referenced major character death

Word Count: 1.9K

Prompt 3 - “Now? Now you listen to me?”

Two weeks after arriving back in New York (two weeks after Mysterio. Two weeks after deciding that he still wanted to be Spider-Man after all), Peter thought that he had started to settle in to life After. 

And all things considered, life was good. Should be good. In fact, he could count off all the things that made his life a pretty great one, and even he had to admit that it wasn’t exactly a thin list.

He had a girlfriend now, for one. And she was great and amazing and she knew who he was, and she just made the world make sense, somehow. Like he could handle anything when she was beside him.

...Or maybe that was the hormones talking. He was 16 after all, and hormones were notoriously well known for interfering with those things.

Except you’re not 16, a traitorous voice in the back of his head reminded him, and technically it was right. If you did the math - which Peter had - and actually counted the days, he was really 17. But because he kinda hadn’t existed for five years and the Avengers weren’t really worried about making sure that making sure that the second snap was on the anniversary of the first snap--

It was stupid and pointless, but of all the things that Thanos had taken, the one that that really annoyed him was the fact that Thanos had stolen a birthday from him. He was 17 now, and sure, May would throw a birthday party for him literally two months from now -- she’d throw him one now if he asked her, probably -- but nobody celebrated his birthday on the day he turned 17. Nobody even knew that it had happened.

He didn’t even realized he’d turned 17 until a week later. He didn’t tell anyone.

Thanos had taken other things, too, of course, but those things were too wrapped in choice and responsibility and fault for him to be angry. There wasn’t any guilt mixed in when he was righteously angry about a stolen birthday.

But anyways, in the grand scheme of things -- in the ways that mattered -- life was good. Not only did he have MJ, but he had May and Ned supporting him. He had Happy, who understood the everyday superheroing life a little better than the others and was always there to offer advice, or even just a steady assurance that everything was going to be okay.

He had access to more tech than ever before, as well as resources to build anything he could think of, including gadget designs that he had folded up and shoved in the back of a textbook months ago (years ago) because there was no way he would ever be able to build it.

He had EDITH, which… Wow. 

And he had his Peter-tingle back, better and stronger than ever. 

So yeah, all in all, life was good.

Should be good.

Was good.

At any rate, he had to stop feeling sorry for himself. He was freaking Spider-Man, the whole city had its eye on him, and he had a job to do. A job that he really, truly, did love.

Except, of course, for the times that he didn’t.

Which was stupid and selfish and childish, and he know that. But human brains -- and even super-human ones -- are stupid, and so here he was, sitting on his bed, and thinking.

He didn’t want to be thinking. He’d rather be swinging through the city or working on a design, or--

There were a lot of things he’d rather be doing, really, but the reason he was sitting here thinking today was because of what he was currently holding in his hands. It was a small box, barely bigger than Peter’s hand, and he hadn’t opened it yet. Happy had given it to him earlier today, and said it was from Mr. Stark. He didn’t say what was in it. 

Peter fiddled with the EDITH glasses currently hanging from the collar of his Spidey suit, which he still hadn’t taken off after his patrol earlier. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to open the box yet, but waiting was just stupid and cowardly and hiding, so he took a deep breath and flipped open the latch.

It turned out the box wasn’t a box in the traditional sense, but a little, self-contained hologram projector. When he flipped open the lid, it flickered on with a little hum that would’ve been inaudible to anyone who didn’t have his hearing, and Mr. Stark appeared, projected above the device.

It wasn’t life size, but it was big enough that holding it wasn’t exactly comfortable viewing distance, so he set it on his desk chair and sat back down on his bed to watch.

He tried not to think about the fact that this was exactly where he had been sitting the first time he met Mr. Stark.

“Hey, Pete.”

Mr. Stark -- Tony -- was older than he remembered, though he supposed that was how he had looked at the battle as well. Peter hadn’t really been paying attention at the time, but now he couldn’t help but notice just how many gray hairs the older man had. He looked tired, too, and Peter wondered just how many hours he had stayed up working before making this recording. 

“Do I look like Princess Leia like this? Don’t answer that.” The Tony in the hologram shifted slightly, like he was unsure what he should say next. “If you’re watching this, then it means that it worked. Everything we were working towards, everything we were trying we trying to undo-- It worked. And that means it was all worth it. Whatever happens next, whatever happens to me… It’s worth it. I want you to remember that.”

Tony took a deep breath. “Of course, if we’re all very lucky, I’ll be here watching this with you, and we’ll both have a good laugh at how ridiculous it is that I even recorded this. But if I’ve learned anything over the past 15 years, it’s that I don’t tend to get lucky very often. Best to prepare for the worst.

“If you’re watching this, that means you also agreed to accept the glasses -- and I know that because I’ve got a second recording for if you didn’t, so hopefully Happy gave you the right one. If he didn’t, go ahead and stop the tape here, take it back, and don’t forget to ‘be kind, rewind.’” A pause. “Yeah, you’re too young to get that joke, aren’t you, so nevermind. Anyways, I assume, due to the fact that you’re still watching this, that you are now the proud owner of what are probably the most high tech pieces of eyewear anywhere on Earth that isn’t Wakanda. And this being the case, I have two things that I want to say to you.

“First of all, now? Now you listen to me, really? Two years, and you never did what I asked. I asked you to stay away from the big fights, you didn’t do it, then I asked you to join the Avengers, you said no. I told you not to get on the spaceship; guess what you did.

“Not that I’m surprised you chose to do this, mind you.” Hologram Tony pulled a pair of glasses identical to the ones Peter was wearing out of his pocket and waved them at the camera. “These are pretty cool.”

Tony fiddled with the glasses for a moment before putting them back in his pocket and looking directly at the camera. At Peter. “I said two things, didn’t I? Right. The second thing is that I’m proud of you. I’m proud of Spider-Man, and I’m proud of Peter Parker. That last fight, we didn’t win, but we wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far without you. You did good, kid. Remember that.”

Peter thought vaguely that if he was as good as Mr. Stark seemed to think, then he would’ve been able to get that glove away faster. That he never should’ve let him be in a position where the only choice was to--

But the hologram of Tony was still talking, and Peter didn’t want to miss a word of what he was saying, so he pushed the thought away for later.

“Of course,” Tony continued, “Being good doesn’t mean you won’t fail. Because you will. I have, plenty of times. And when that happens, you pick yourself up, you figure out what went wrong, and you do the best you can to keep it from happening again.” Another pause. “Then there’s the things that happen that can’t be fixed. Those are the really hard ones. And when that happens -- and it will happen -- you have to figure out how to forgive yourself, and you move on.” A slight chuckle. “I’ve never been very good at that. Especially not that first part.

“You know, I said earlier that I don’t get lucky very often, but that wasn’t entirely true. I got to be lucky for five years. Have you met Morgan yet? You probably have, but let me tell you, she’s brilliant. Probably be giving you a run for your money in a few years. You should spend some time with her, she could use a big brother. 

“But most importantly, Pete, I want you to find someone. I don’t care who it is, it could be your aunt, or that girl you were head over heels for and couldn’t shut up about-- Michelle, right? It can even be that geeky friend of yours, I don’t care, but you have to pick someone. Someone you trust. And I want you to talk to them. Because this life isn’t easy, and you can’t hold it all it in. Trust me, I’ve tried. It took me a long time to learn that, so be better than me. I know you have it in you.”

Tony’s pause was longer this time, and he glanced off to the side. “Well, I think that’s about all the time we have for this. It’s late, and I have more of these to record. Not just for you, so don’t go getting a big head.” 

He looked directly at the camera one last time. “Go out there and be amazing, Spider-Man.”

Tony waved his hand at some device Peter couldn’t see, and the projection winked out of existence. 

Peter sat on his bed silently for a moment, then got up and fiddled with the device until he found the replay button. He watched it three more times, and when he was done he had practically memorized the entire message.

He wasn’t sure he fully believed what Tony had to say about failure, because in his experience failure got people killed. When you failed, you didn’t get hurt, but someone else -- someone important -- got menaced by drones or shot or fried by radiation or--

He had a sudden memory of Mr. Stark’s arms around him as he crumbled away.

Oh.

Oh.

He wasn’t entirely sure what moving on looked like, but Tony had done it, hadn’t he? He had done it for five years. The least Peter could do was try.

Peter shut the lid on the projector, and tucked the box away in a corner of his desk drawer. Then he thought he’d go find May and see if she wanted to order pizza in tonight. It had been awhile since they had really talked, and he found he was looking forward to the conversation.

[morromasterofwind]

Rho Epsilon + The Ninjas

HI. SO THIS IS GONNA BE RLLY LONG. I’VE EXPANDED ON THE LORE OF MY OC, RHO. THANK U ALL FOR SHOWING HER SO MUCH LOVE! THIS IS A MASTERPOST OF HER BASIC INTRODUCTIONS/INTERACTIONS WITH ALL THE NINJAS. I HOPE YOU ENJOY?

Rho and Kai

She encounters Kai first out of the ninjas. Not while the group is on a mission or anything. She actually finds him in Skylor’s noodle shop, to nobody’s surprise.

They end up staring at one another from across the restaurant all throughout meal time. Rho is already fully aware that he’s one of the ninjas, as their identities aren’t exactly a secret. She’s just staring because he is and it is really weird.

Kai, on the other hand, is intrigued yet very suspicious. He asks Skylor who she is, and Skylor simply replies that she is a friend who stops by a lot. Since he knew Zane could help, Kai drags him out there one evening.

“She is just another Elemental Master. I detect no problems here. She is not causing any disturbances.” “Ya sure ok Zane w/e you say.”

Kai is 100% convinced Rho is hiding something for like the first month they know each other. This is ironic, as she ends up becoming one of the people he trusts most.

He often vents to her and discusses things he would probably not say otherwise. He’d never forgive her if he knew, but most of it at first was a result of her powers.

She wasn’t trying to pry or trick him into befriending her. She just noticed a lot of little things that were concerning. The way he’d trail off his sentences and leave them hanging during more serious chatter among the group. The rather foul and unfair things he’d mutter under his breath at himself. The way he’d stay up all night training after certain battles. It wasn’t a healthy outlet or way to cope! She thought that Wu may be the only other person who knew Kai did this.

For as vocal as he seems about what’s on his mind, there is an awful lot he keeps under lock and key. So it wasn’t exactly easy to get him to come out of his shell. It was even harder to use her powers on him subtly. She hasn’t used any means like that in a while, though. He still trusts her. She’s glad.

Rho and Zane

Zane was the one who decided to bring her to meet the other ninjas. Despite knowing the implications of her powers, he’s never had any misgivings about her.

Given that he is not technically living, it is much (much) harder and more complex for Rho to analyze his words. Because of this, Zane terrified her at first.

She respects Zane the most out of the ninjas. She takes his opinions very seriously.

There is something about him she is drawn to and can vibe with.

These two have tons of inside jokes.

She likes when he answers her questions about mechanics and tech. Jay and Nya are awful at explaining it.

The protagonist of one of the novels she’s written is inspired by Zane. She’d sooner die than admit it, though.

Rho and Jay

Easily her best friend. There is nothing she wouldn’t do for him.

On days he is feeling more down and out, she is sure to alter any quips the others try to make at his expense. Even if they are not intended seriously, in the wrong mood she knows he’ll perceive them that way. Zane usually frowns and gives her a look in response, because he can tell when she does it.

After figuring out what her power is, Jay repeatedly thinks to himself that he wishes she had been there when Nadakhan was around. What Jay does not know is that a previous Master of Language actually taught the djinn how to manipulate people’s words long ago. It was a very different time in history. Regardless, Rho would not have stood for Nadakhan at all if she knew of him. She would have been offended and found his actions a mockery of her family’s legacy. She would have been quick to remind him what that power should be used for.

Fun fact: Rho is head over heels for both Jay and Nya. It is a Big Problem and She Hates It but she is whipped.

Jay thinks it is priceless when Rho freaks out over the gadgets he and Nya make.

Their brands of humor combined are chaotic. They piss Nya and Cole off so much with their jokes. Kai and Zane are pretty indifferent. Lloyd finds them funny.

Rho and Cole

After meeting Cole, Rho pretty much can’t picture life without him.

She finds his presence extremely reassuring and comforting.

She actually enjoys his cooking? What? Girl are you okay? Don’t question it, I guess.

He asks her a lot about her powers and what she is able to do with them. He is also really interested in learning about languages that are no longer spoken.

SHE LOVES HEARING HIM SING. Or speak, for that matter. His voice is very unique, in her opinion.

They absolutely work out together. He’s even sent her his playlist.

While she really sees the others more as friends than family, Cole is definitely like a brother to her.

Rho and Nya

She’s the one who convinced Rho to stay with them. Nya even taught her how to pilot the Bounty in case of emergencies.

Rho is absolutely impressed by Nya and tries to be more like her in everything she does. Whether it be training harder, or even the way she conducts herself in the face of adversity. Nya would likely tell her it’d be more beneficial to find her own strengths rather than chase after someone else. And she’s right. But still…

She makes so many water puns while talking to Nya. Most of them actually go over Nya’s head.

She loves stealing Nya’s clothes and wearing them. They’re a bit too small for her, but no regrets. Yes, she always washes and returns them the day after. Yes, she is obsessed with Nya’s fashion sense. Mainly because she herself has none.

Most of the time, Rho and Nya will just sit in comfortable silence. Usually while Nya reads books that Rho has recommended her.

They definitely have the same taste in television shows.

Rho loves snuggling with Jay and Nya on the couch on cold days. She’ll be a jerk and slowly creep her way up there with them if she walks in and they’re watching movies or smth.

Rho and Lloyd

SHE IS OBSESSED WITH LLOYD. She always dotes on him. She’ll jokingly call him her little brother, even though she doesn’t really see him as a brother in the same light she sees Cole.

“Hey, look what my coOL LITTLE BRO DID TODAY! YEAH! HE DID THAT! MY BABY BRO!”

She’s called him “Lloyd Montgomery” rather than just “Lloyd” since hearing his middle name. Nobody really knows why.

He’s taught her so much? She wasn’t even expecting him to.

She was very shocked to find out he and Wu are related.

He plays pranks on her if she is in a bad mood. It usually cheers her up.

Her favorite person to play videogames with. The others get too salty. Lloyd is actually fun.

She appreciates his willingness to listen and heart that seeks to reach understanding with others. They’re some of his strongest traits to her, even if he struggles to stop seeing it as weakness.

Bonus: Rho and Wu

They meditate together often.

She soaks in any and all wisdom Wu has to offer. Even things she’d rather not have to hear.

Tea? Tea.

Both literal and metaphorical tea. The two enjoy each other’s company a lot? It is odd. A very odd duo.

Much like Zane, Wu will be very disapproving of her trying to use her powers on people aside from combatant purposes. No matter how slight or what the reason, Wu will always have a talk with her after.

He warns her of the dangers awaiting one who consistently bends people’s perspectives and words to their will. He confronts her by asking how she would grow if all she ever heard was the things she wanted to. He reiterates that it isn’t fair, and that there is freedom in being alive. Freedom to hold opinions and behave accordingly. He warns that he will stop her if she starts to impede on that freedom within others.

Even so, he believes strongly in her good nature. But, as we know, he also strongly believes in his experience with a certain student. He knows it is his responsibility to crush the seeds of evil before they can sprout.

[neshabeingchildish]

That Page Power

She had to get some things in order with her numerous corporations, first. It was times like these that she missed Mimi the most, because that woman had been so great with organization and filling in blanks. Jasper was her assistant… well… he was the family's assistant. Honestly, he was like a super personal assistant who also mannied and helped with manual labor. Charlotte had to often remind the kids that "Uncle Jasper is not a butler!" They'd get away with anything that he let them and not having kids of his own yet, what he allowed became a lot before he got Barfield.

That was when Hank was 11 and Charlie was 6. The year that Charlotte finally was ready to announce her bid to the presidency of the Hero League. Jasper had told her, apologetically, "I'm a father now, so I can't be your campaign manager."

"I think I'll figure out a way to make it," she told him. 

"I'll do it. It'll be good practice for both business and politics that I'll need to run My Little Ham," Hank offered. The business would definitely be his, but instead of 18, more and more every day, they were sure that he'd be able to take over any day now. Charlotte's family all had shares in her companies, but Hank would have the most when he became an adult. She really wanted Charlie to handle at LEAST SoulDates.

There was something poetic about her only daughter having the rights to a social network that her mother once created for her father… but Charlie wasn't interested in that. Charlotte wasn't always sure just WHAT Charlie was interested in, because even though they had a pretty communicative relationship, Charlie didn't really connect with Charlotte very well. She was very attentive to her brother, who was the smartest kid alive, in her little mind. She adored her Uncle Jasper, who spoiled her rotten and played every game that she wanted whenever she wanted. And she LIVED FOR her father. He was the most super superhero in the world, Mr. Danger. "And someday, I'M gonna be a superhero too!" She'd often brag. 

"You don't have to be a superhero," Charlotte would always tell her, trying to be sure not to be the kind of mother that Simone and many other supers complained about, trying to instill some normalcy in her, even though she had powers. In fact, she wasn't even allowed to remove her bracelet until they decided that she was responsible enough to begin honing her skills and using her powers. 

But, of course, sometimes she did. She took it off just to marvel about the fact that she had powers, then she'd put it back on in a hurry. She didn't know what her powers were, but she knew that her mother had a failsafe in the bracelet that alerted her if it was off for too long. 

Many parents special ordered bracelets for their children's powers, however, because it was Hank's idea, Charlotte left it up to him whether they would put it on the market. His agreement was only if it was Charlie's company, since she was his inspiration for it. Charlotte loved that idea. Charlie was definitely more interested in jewelry than computers. But… a particular type. Gadget jewelry. 

Growing up with a father with a bionic arm and a brother who made gizmos for fun, she didn't care about style so much as "What does it do?" A techie watch? Meh. A Whiz Watch. Yasss. The same seemed to apply for Charlotte's technology verses Hamilton's. Charlotte made things that were far more complicated than Charlie could comprehend and the parts of it that were helpful, you couldn't really see immediately. With the exception of her dad's arm and the house system, Charlie just didn't care about her mom's work. Charlotte didn't have stories that she could share with her about awesome aspects of her job, so Charlie didn't ask or care how work was for her. She always tried to be nice about not caring, but Charlotte left her to decide what she liked. Until it came down to the superpower and the hero life. 

Charlie resented the fact that she wasn't able to polish her skills yet. Her dad was always excited about the possibility of her following in his footsteps, so she figured that keeping her hampered wasn't his idea. Hamilton made the bracelet for her, but try as he might to be a grown-up, she knew he didn't have any REAL authority in that house, and she wasn't sure if her daddy did either, for that matter. They had her mommy's last name. They lived on her mommy's work, mostly. Her daddy had to have gotten paid, but even being a superhero outside of the house, when he got back, he was the one of the two who cooked and cleaned and planted flowers. Charlie wasn't smart like her brother, but she was able to see a power dynamic, whether or not she was able to express what she was seeing. Like, her daddy would say something really cool and she'd get excited, then her mommy would make him think about it, or ask, "You sure about that, Hen?" And suddenly, he changed his mind to something boring instead. 

Well, she wasn't gonna get the best of Charlie with that reverse psychology or whatever it was that Hank would tell her "only works on Dad," when he was determined to do things differently than what she said. Not reverse psychology. She was mixing up her examples, but WHATEVER! Charlie took off her bracelet and put it in her trinket box. The box glowed and a holographic manifestation of her mother appeared, "Hey, Charlie. Interface tells me that your bracelet is off. Mind telling me why?"

"I do mind!" Charlie snapped.

"You do?" Charlotte asked, taking a seat in her office, where she had been working until she got the alert. "Am I going to have to get your father involved, young lady?" 

Charlie folded her arms and said, "You're not the president yet, so you can't boss him around all the time!"

Charlotte gave her an empathetic smile and said, "Okay. But, for right now, I still need you put that bracelet back on and we can discuss how you're feeling."

"I'm not putting it on because that's not who I am! I'm supposed to be a hero. Why don't you want me to be?" 

"You're too young, Sweetie. Studies show that 94% of supers who are exploited for their powers from an early age become stunted adults with difficulty sustaining healthy relationships and 85% suffer from emotional trauma or mental dysfunction."

"How early are the ages in the study?" Charlie asked, reaching for her bracelet, a little frightened by her mother using statistics and studies. She didn't really understand a lot of that, but it sounded like messed up stuff.

"Prepubescent children's bodies have not yet developed enough to practically navigate powers. Those who can do so earlier generally have hands on daily training and extensive support. When you hit puberty, we'll TALK about it. Now… bracelet please." Charlie begrudgingly put it back on. "Please don't make me have to contact you this way again." Not only did Charlie not make her have to contact her that way again, but Charlie couldn't be bothered for most contact with Charlotte. 

She still said "I love you," every night. She still encouraged her for her presidential race. But… Charlotte knew pretending when she saw it. 

"She hates me," she said to Jasper and Henry while they worked in the campaign office. 

They wanted to argue with her, but all that would come out was, "For now," from Jasper and a "Hate's a strong word" from Henry. 

Henry elaborated, "Charlie is a sweet girl. There's not a hateful bone in her body and certainly not towards you. You're her mom. You're her hero. She sees you as a woman that she'll never grow up to be able to be and that's valid. You're intimidating. But, she knows that she has a good heart and she loves making people happy and wants to help people, in her own way. Whenever you tell her that she can't, she feels like she's not good enough. Like you don't trust her." 

"Did she tell you all that? Because she's six and doesn't have the greatest vocabulary," Charlotte said, typing something.

"I paraphrased because she's six and doesn't have the greatest vocabulary, but she definitely expressed a lot of this in her own words. I told her that you're scared of forcing her to feel like because she's super, she's got a responsibility to save people and that's why you're trying to protect her from being like Uncle Ray." 

"What did she say?"

"Uncle Ray is awesome. He lets me play with lasers."

"WHAT?" 

"I know, right? He didn't even invite us along for laser play with our own kid?" 

"That's not…"

"I know that you're scared of pushing her into the lifestyle and her resenting it later… but… I think she's resenting you for trying to keep her away from it. But, Char… if it was Hank… would you keep his power dampened?"

"Hank's more responsible than her."

"So, no."

"He's above level intelligent and above level maturity. I can't treat them exactly the same because they aren't the same."

"When you're 6, it looks like loving differently. She's got no reference to how you rationalize. All she has is that Hank has always been trusted to be who he is, but she isn't. Not by you."

"If that keeps her safe, then I don't mind being the villain in her narrative. She'll understand one day."

"That's why I said "for now" when you said she hates you," Jasper said, proud of himself.

"Somebody's gonna hate you later for naming him Barfield," she commented.

"I think he'll be honored that his father wanted a unique name for him."

"Naw," she said, not looking up.

"I actually agree with my wife on this one," Henry said.

Now, she looked up, "What do you mean, on this one?"

"Thought that was obvious. On this subject, not the last."

"Okay, so wait… you think I'm wrong to try to protect our daughter?"

"I think that you're going about protecting her wrong. Yes, kids who have powers get exploited early and it negatively affects them, but… that's not what this is or what this would be. I believe that whenever children begin to ask about things and be interested in things, that's when decisions should be made. I think that she'd be fine to begin learning her powers and if she doesn't like it, she would tell me and we'd stop." 

Charlotte felt blindsided. She scoffed, "Well, did you tell her that?"

"I did. Because, I believe that she was looking for support and I genuinely had some for her."

"You're the reason that she thinks I'm the bad guy! You're not supposed to tell children when we disagree."

"She thinks that you're the bad guy in this situation because she knows that you're the one that doesn't want her to do what she wants. Not because I happen to agree with her that it's unfair."

"Wow. I would never do that to you.."

"You'd never have to, Char. If the kids tell me that they want or need something, my default is to explore that with them."

"Your default is careless parenting, just like it's careless everything!" 

Barfield began crying and Jasper got up to check on him. He picked the curly haired boy up and announced, "We're gonna give you two some time. I don't really like Barfield in an arguing space…"  

Henry got up and shook his head, "You're the one who actually works for her, you stay. I'd probably be too careless to help out here, anyway." He winked at Charlotte. She could tell that he was angry, despite him keeping his cool. "See you at home." He told her, then left. The system in his arm noticed that he was dangerously angry and gave him something to balance him out. 

Jasper sat down with his baby and a bottle. "You okay, Champ?" 

Charlotte smiled at him with his son and sighed, "They're so easy at that age. People think it's harder because of the crying and the feeding and cleaning. When they start thinking for themselves and creating their image of you without all of the information that you have, though… that's what's really hard. Charlie worshipped the ground I walk on and then suddenly… she just hated me."

"It wasn't that sudden. You're really abrasive sometimes and I think she's too young to get that."

"When am I abrasive?" Charlotte asked.

"Whenever anybody is not as smart as you and you're talking to them? Like how you're talking to me like you're mad at me, right now?"

"Like I'm mad?" She repeated, "I can't even raise my voice slightly in confusion without being pegged as angry?" 

"I don't know, but you sound really angry and it's freaking me out! I'm holding a baby for crying out loud!" Jasper said. Barfield seemed just fine to Char. She rolled her eyes, then got up and left the room. 

Charlotte went into a small closet that she sometimes went to whenever she needed a moment to herself and she started crying. Henry called her a little bit later. Dammit… had Interface alerted him that she was crying? She ignored the call. If it was an emergency, he'd say that. She only needed a few minutes anyway. She never cried for long when she was out and about. She checked her phone again when she cleaned her face. Henry had texted: Please answer the phone or call me back when you finish crying.

“Damn Interface. I’ve made you too smart,” she mumbled and returned the text: I’m fine. He called back anyway and she answered. “Yeah, Hen. I’m fine.”

“You were crying. Interface said so and I know it’s true because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated. They held their phones for a moment. “Listen, I’m sorry for what I said. It was unfair and not exactly true.”

“True enough. I am definitely a lot more relaxed than you on most situations, and I can see how that can be read as careless to somebody so uptight.” She tried not to react to that dig, and it was well enough because he kept talking, “But, I feel like you know that I care and it was kind of you just trying to hurt me because I disagreed with you. Charlotte, you are a master at most things that you do. You were the smartest person IN Swellview, not just in school - the whole damn town. You graduated with honors every single time you got a degree. You were a trailblazer in the superhero products manufacturing industry, developed apps that have changed the experience of nearly every super in existence and create things for babies, children and mothers burdened with superpowers, on top of labor and nursing… You’re an amazing person. You can do almost anything, so sometimes, that makes you feel like you’re always right and whenever someone disagrees with you that they’re wrong. That’s fine. You’re entitled to that opinion, but you don’t have to hurt me because I made you uncomfortable.”

“That’s not what I was doing. I was hurt that you didn’t have my back when one of our kids was feeling negatively about me. You couldn’t even at least bring me into that conversation and let both of us talk to her?”

“I guess I could have, but I still would have felt the same way about it, and I’ve always clarified that you’re doing what you believe is best and that you are usually correct. When Mommy makes a decision, it’s the smartest possible decision to make is what I say, without fail, every time. I didn’t not have your back. I just still don’t think you were right! It’s okay to not be right about everything, Char. The old folks used to say that kids don’t come with an instruction manual, then people started making instruction manuals, but they don’t cover everything, because everybody’s kid is an individual. When Hank was Charlie’s age, he could’ve moved to New York by himself and gotten a place, and started a business on his own, if he wanted to. Charlie just accidentally sat on her own ice cream to tie her shoe, then pulled up her dress to eat it off… yesterday. She’s her dad’s kid… And unfortunately kinda her Uncle Jasper’s, somehow.” They both laughed a little thinking about how Jasper-like that entire ice cream ordeal was and how Hank literally timed her to see how long it would take her 1. To notice that she sat in it, 2. To decide what she wanted to do about it. 3. To eat a sundae off of the butt of her dress. “Baby… You are the pillar and beacon of our household and you are the heart of our family. I would be dead without you. Our kids, without you, would be being raised by me and a man who named his only son Barfield, after a child that he once stole and then got taken away from him… That was named horribly THAT time, too!” Now, she laughed harder. That meant it was working. He was softening her up. “But, baby, parenting isn’t a science. It's a miracle. It’s a miracle to be able to figure out what works with a little person who is nothing like you and to do what’s best for them when neither of you know that for certain. Nobody expects you to be perfect at everything. You are the best mother that I’ve ever known. You make sure everyone’s needs are met, you improve just about everything that our kids have had to come into contact with and you think of things that would never even cross any of our minds, not even Hank’s, to make sure your family is healthy and safe. You’re protective, so fiercely protective and I love these things about you and I’m so lucky and glad that such a heroine married me and gave me children.”

“But I make everybody miserable and at least one of my kids hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you! But, if we keep holding her back, she might one day. And I mean… I think you could stand to lighten up on being the expert of everything in this one area. I think I’m a pretty good dad, and I feel like my input is as important as yours when it comes to the kids.”

“Of course it is! I’ve never suggested that it wasn’t.”

“Charlie thinks that you think I’m too stupid to be a daddy and that every time I say something you make me think about it until I change my mind. Those are actually her exact words.” 

Charlotte sighed, “So… You think that she’s ready, to start fooling around with her powers?”

“No. I think that she’s way too young and it would be terrible for her to fool around with her powers! What I think is that we should allow her the freedom to get comfortable with having them and being more open about it. If she takes off her bracelet, let her zip around the room for a little bit. Maybe let her pick up a few heavy things.”

“When she was an infant, she crushed your hand. She’s 6 now. She’s clumsy and awkward. She could accidentally zip around and knock the fountain on herself or something!”

“She has a daddy that’s faster than her to catch her from making that kind of mistake.”

“Okay.” Charlotte took a deep breath. Henry knew it was hard for her to relinquish this kind of power, considering that her child was on the line. A lot of people thought that Charlotte was a detached person, kinda cold and not affectionate, but she was actually the opposite whenever she loved someone and she loved her children probably more than she loved a man that she spent 13 months cooped up with, waiting for him to recover. “Okay… I’m going to accept that you as her father… will do what you think is best… with that… And…” her chest was tight and she could hardly breathe, “If anything happens to her, I’ll just have to kill you.”

“That’s such a fair agreement. I’ll want that, too.”

.

They announced at dinner Henry’s plan to begin letting Charlie get familiar with her powers. She cheered and reached for her bracelet while Hank nearly choked on his pot roast Charlotte quickly saved him and flawlessly warned Charlie, “Not so fast, Missy. Your dad has to go over the rules.” Charlie sank back in her seat, sure that that meant he was gonna give her Charlotte’s rules, which she was sure were gonna be rules that sucked. 

Henry assured her, “So, your mom and I talked about how you feel and we decided that was more important than how Mommy feels about this… because it’s your power and your body.” Charlie looked surprised and looked at her mother, to see if she was going to object to this. Henry kept talking, “But, you mean so much to both of us that we can’t just let you do whatever you want. So, we are going to try to help you accomplish what you want, but only in a safe way, okay?”

“Okay?” She repeated, still looking at Charlotte, who was trying not to cry, “Are you okay, Mommy?” Charlotte nodded. “Are you gonna cry? If you’re gonna cry, I won’t do it…” 

“Charlie,” Henry said. “Don’t worry about Mommy, okay. Right now, what we’re talking about is helping you. So, these are the rules, you ONLY take off your bracelet when you’re training with me and no other time. Do you understand?” She nodded.

Charlotte gave her different examples to see if she actually did understand. She did. Henry proceeded. “Whenever we’re training, always tell me your goal before you make an attempt. That means tell Daddy what you’re about to try to do before you try to do it. Because, for one thing, I have to be sure it’s reasonable. For another, I want to know what to be paying attention to, in case it goes wrong.” 

She nodded, and before Charlotte could ask her questions said, “Like, if I want to try to pick up that goddess statue in the garden, I say I wanna pick up that statue and you are there in case I can’t, and you have to help me.”

“Right,” both parents said.

The other rules were doable too. No training in the house. No showing off what she learned, even to family, unless Daddy was there to back her up. No hero complex whenever she saw someone in danger. “We’re training you to be comfortable in your skin, NOT to become a superhero. If you honestly and truly still want to do that when you get older, then that’ll be up to you. But, we aren’t going to train you to be a superhero just because you have superpowers,” Charlotte said, firmly. 

Charlie nodded solemnly, then cheered, “I want to get started right away. I’m gonna go grab my Lady Danger costume and put my hair up and call Starlette and tell her to suck my big toe!”

“Don’t. Don’t do any of that,” Henry said, then whispered to Charlotte, “She can’t do that, right?”

“No, she can’t,” she said smiling through her teeth. Then, to a crestfallen Charlie said, “Daddy has to make a training schedule for the two of you, but it certainly won’t be at night, after dinner. You can put on your Lady Danger costume after you wash up and MAYBE Daddy will let you zip around outside for a little while before bed.”

“Honestly, that’s the only thing that might make her sleep tonight,” Hank said, monotone. Charlotte looked at him and he forced a smile, got up with his empty plate and took it to the kitchen. Charlotte followed him while Henry tried to calm Charlie down before she choked on the food she was trying to hurry up and finish.

“Hank? Is everything okay?” He started washing his dishes and seemed like he was really thinking about the question. “You know that you can tell me anything,” she said. The look on his face said otherwise and she wondered, well damn, is HANK feeling a way about me too? “I know that I’m not a perfect mom, but I promise you guys, I try my best.”

“You’re an excellent mom, Mom. I just… know that you stress about things. I don’t always like to stress you out. You’re like surrounded by stress inducing people, and I like being the one sensible person that doesn’t make you make that one face where for a few moments, you contemplate a mass murder, then remind yourself that you have children and they’re not old enough to get their own jobs.”

“I sadly know exactly what that face is, but if you’re stressed out, I’d rather you give that mess to me and you will be fine.” She took the dish from him and set it to dry. 

He leaned against the counter, almost as tall as her now, obviously just INSISTING on taking after all of his father’s physical genes, with the exception of him starting to look a little more tanned now and have a little more darkness in his blond curls. “As long as Charlie was in that bracelet, she was a normal girl. We had a great relationship and we were both normal kids, and now… I’m going to be an outcast. I’m not a super,” he said sadly. 

“Well, we don’t know that, but as soon as you’re ready, we can get you tested and…”

“I did the test myself. I’m negative. I’m a non-supe.” He looked like he might cry.

“Well… Listen… I, too, was a non-supe and that didn’t make me any less than your father or Ray.”

“Did you feel like an outcast?” He asked.

“Not because of that.”

“Because you were surrounded by stress inducing people?”

“Yup.”

“But, you had Jasper with you. He’s clearly the designated outcast.” A little bit lower and to himself, he declared, “I can’t believe that he went through the process of finding a surrogate to carry his child and named that boy Barfield.”

“Well, you know what? Jasper WAS the designated outcast of the Man Cave, but we all were pretty weird in our own ways. Whatever makes you different makes you special. Maybe because you’re the only non-super in the house, you’ll be able to do things that we might not be able to. Superpower regulations are always up and down. Whatever happens, you are the smartest kid that I’ve ever met and I get to brag to people that I made you! Hell, that can be your thing. Charlotte Page made you. You are the firstborn son of the Pagemaster. You don’t need a superpower. You’ve got that Page Power, right here.” She lovingly tapped her finger at his brain. “And you’ve got even more of it than me.  Dominate a few industries. You’ll be global.”

“I just want a superpower,” he said, sighed and looked at her, “And now for the part to stress you out - that’s why I am working on a system to make myself become a super.”

“No,” she said, flat out. “If you want to work on a system to grant superpowers, okay, but I refuse to let you just experiment on yourself. You know how I got this? I was kidnapped and reprogrammed, and genetically altered. It was painful and scary and I thought I was fine, then one day it showed up, just as scary and then I had to learn to live with it. People born that way don’t feel any pain or discomfort. It’s their nature. I don’t want you to risk yourself for something that you don’t need.”

“I need to know if my Page power is powerful enough for me to accomplish it.”

“Don’t experiment on yourself!” She warned, then hugged him and kissed him. “If anything happens to you, I’m… Whew Chile, I don’t know why you and your sister want me to have a heart attack.” 

He smiled softly and said, “You know that I would never disobey you or do anything to make you sad. You’re my favorite.”

“Don’t say that,” she said, with a big smile on her face.

“He’s sweet, but God help him…” He said, of Henry and shook his head.

.

Charlotte’s bid for the presidency was met with some opposition. She was criticised for being a “flip flopper,” accusations stemming everywhere from she became radicalized since working in her lab with Max Thunderman and merging their families (something that she hadn’t personally done, but Max worked FOR HER in her laboratories years before and hadn’t in at least 4, and she most certainly hadn’t become radicalized. “What I did become is the Mother of Symbiosis - the political action body, and the extremely successful social network. Supers and Non-pows use my site, app, and lifestyle plan to make peaceful cohabitation practices that some years ago didn’t even seem possible in the wake of The Chemist, Gaia… Who… I also recall creating the serum that stopped her.” Henry screamed out a “WOOOOOO!” Which, she had reminded him not to do before they got here, but, there he was. 

On the flipside, supers insisted that she was a hypocrite because “rumor has it” that she stifled the powers of her daughter, after years of claiming to be pro-supers. “My daughter is currently working with a professional to hone her talents in a safe environment, and I waited until we felt like she was old enough to handle it before moving forward with that. I don’t know if you know this, but if you checkout my article posted in LifeTIME magazine, last year, but still relevant - I spoke about studies that I had conducted myself and how it compared to earlier studies by genetic specialists who focused on metaphysical abilities. Allowing small children free range with their superpowers is nearly as dangerous as forcing power usage on small children. Unfortunately, we didn’t know that when a lot of you were younger, and that’s why so many supers seek out professional help, which… sidenote, one of my companies is in the process of creating a network specifically for the psychological and psychiatric needs of supers. My daughter’s generation gets to live in a time where supers are given healthy choices that make them whole. I am pro-supers, but I’m here to make a way for our future, not pay homage to the toxic things that we got used to in the shadows as second class citizens.”

They even accused her of being a business woman playing politics. They compared her to a non-pow president whose candidacy she hated even speaking about, much less being compared to. She wanted to say, “I oughtta bust this whole building down with my fist.” Instead, she played her politics by saying, “It’s interesting that you bring this man up, because I remember being just a little too young not to vote for him. But, the next time around, I was old enough and I put my vote where I meant it. I’m not gonna stand up here like that man and just tell whoever whatever they want to hear. I’m not gonna make empty promises or gain trust through mutual hate or exploit anybody’s struggles. But, I feel like  have to educate anybody who thinks that I’m playing politics on my history, because I was playing politics whenever I was in Student Council in junior high and high school. I was playing politics whenever I was in college and decided not only to continue my relationship with that little fun group, but to also expand into a political science major to compliment my engineering, because I honestly couldn’t decide what I was going to actually do! So, I kept on playing politics, in the lab, as I worked and went to school, had to practically revamp a college’s system in order to finish on time, which for me was ahead of schedule, and whenever I continued my education, qualified to be this engineering technologist, I got me a nice little job in this cool little outfit called the Hero League, you may know it as the place that I’m trying to be president of… OH YEAH! I WAS THE FREAKING CHIEF TACTICAL ADVISOR!”

“Drop the mic, Baby!” Henry yelled. She laughed, but he was seriously nodding, so she picked up the mic, dropped it too hard and it crashed through the podium. He “WOOOOOOO!”’d again and she wondered if she was now as crazy as him, for even listening to that, but the audience went crazy. She then remembered, these are the same people who have had Ray as president of this organization for a dozen years… On purpose!

She hadn’t even mentioned that she had two apps blast off before she finished her two of her degrees and that one of them was law, which she got just to make sure that she knew everything about her businesses. She didn’t need to… This was gonna happen… 

.

Whenever Ray passed the mantle to her, he looked so proud. Katelyn was getting old and he wanted to take her on a road trip around the world. Jasper and Barfield were going to go, and in their minds they were gonna somehow pick up girls? In and RV with an infant and a dog, with two guys who are like 20 years apart in age? “Chicks love dogs and babies. We’re gonna be swimming in it,” Ray said. 

Charlotte frowned, as they changed over passwords to her and she created new ones, even though she knew all of Ray’s all this time later. “I didn’t think that Jasper even picked up girls anymore. The last girl he was interested in was in college, so maybe you ought to get things straight?”

“Dudes also love dogs! And maybe babies! I don’t know, Charlotte! Jasper and I are having a grand adventure!” He snapped. She laughed and nodded.  He placed both hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. This was one of their most intense moments. She had no idea what was going to happen. “I’m proud of you, Charlotte.” She blushed and nodded her head. Here she was, 36 years old and still getting satisfaction in the rare times that this man actually paid her a compliment. “You’re gonna be great at this. And when you get tired of it, you oughtta go run for President of the United States, JUST to show them that you can!” She gasped and nodded her head in agreement to this ONE brilliant plan that Ray had just had. She was 100% going to run for President of the country… not any time before her kids were old enough to handle that though. The Hero League was one thing. America was always a goddamn mess though.