#especially since it’s saying he was a child in the 1960s which would be different than growing up in the 80s as in NMCU

[bunisher]

i need all future comics writers of frank (and anyone on DDBA) to stop trying to write him as a guy who had a normal childhood and was always just kinda Like That. or that he was simply destined to become the punisher, but that’s kind of a separate topic.

people who go into the military at 18 rarely have normal childhoods, they are often raised in abusive environments that are normalized. the urge to go into the military typically does not come from people who aren’t used to some form of abuse, because why would you willingly want to go into that? unless you are susceptible to indoctrination toward having faith in a system from a young age and aren’t able to discern the red flags? the military system preys on poor young men in particular by scouting them and offering all these bells and whistles (free college, healthcare, community) and feelings of importance, but then just forgets about them afterward.

side note: it’s actually such a disservice to many veterans to forget about how the military is an abusive system. it literally strips you of everything with no help in reintegrating back into society (other than by members of the same community). i get TPS1 tried to do something with this but dropped the ball. it feels like many writers just use his marine background as some sort of fun fact that only comes into play with certain things, but it very much shapes who you are and changes your identity. it’s a very cult-like system.

many people who want to serve are related to others who have prior. many people (especially men) who want to serve at that age have an underlying need that they think can be met. many people are brainwashed by military propaganda and believe it is the right thing to do. especially when it comes to religion, there’s this idea of men using their bodies to protect the innocent that goes back hundreds of years, and this idea of serving god, which we see young francis try to do in two ways. (side note: why do they keep removing his religious background? i liked the nod to it in the nmcu but it seems modern comics writers (looking at you jason aaron) just forget this?) besides, the functions of religion for people are very similar to the functions of the military as far as members go, namely community and a sense of greater purpose.

to me, as a reader/watcher, threads of probable abuse history are present in frank’s character, and i wish we had a writer brave enough to write about it. why else would he care so much about innocents and victims? why else would he become suicidal and guilt stricken when he hurts an innocent? it makes you think: was there no one who protected him or someone else he knew?

and this may not mean anything but idk i think he’s so much more tragic and juicy if you look at him like someone who is not the perfect victim (and maybe doesn’t even recognize their abuse) but someone who instead of healing and becoming soft, becomes angry and violent afterward. trauma, especially repeated trauma, does not effect people all the same way and i really wish they would just be bold enough to work with that. i get trying to piss off the alt right but completely changing the character to fit the same stereotype of a ‘psychopath’ (which is an outdated term) as they do in horror movies about killer children is just poor writing. again, talking about punisher 2022, but this was kinda in nmcu too. and sure yeah they’ve retired his character (but not the punisher….? ok) in the comics, but for when he inevitably does come back, yeah.

[xinyuehui]

I don't know if I want to write a massive essay about this, but they missed the whole point with all the characters, especially Ye Wenjie. I'm assuming everyone who said this portrayal is accurate and a raging angry Ye Wenjie is good is because they either never read the book, or non-Chinese, or both. (Or maybe projecting their own views on Maoism). Ye Wenjie received higher education during a time period where it wasn't common for women. She believed in science, she believed in people, but time and time again, the people in her life let her down and never showed any signs of remorse. What I've gathered from the text is that she isn't fuelled by rage, more so she is dead on the inside, she has lost all hope in people. Her decision to reply is not because she wants to destroy, she believes that a civilisation from a higher standpoint could save humans, and this roots in the fact that she is educated. She's not some crazy rage driving women who would ever say "time is a motherfucker", not even a Chinese equivalent.

I'm not sure why the writers decided to write Ye Wenjie and Yang Weining's relationships out of the story...Oh so she is rescued by a white man later on hmm??? (Coincidentally, all the characters driving the plot are also non-Chinese in this). Ye Wenjie marrying Yang Weining and giving birth to Yang Dong gave her a glimpse of light in the life from which she had lost hope. Spending time in Qijiatun also gave her a bit of warmth. When she pushed Yang Weining off the cliff, it marked another significant point, she was calm, cut the rope with no hesitation. She did not care to get herself entangled in romantic affairs. Making her have a child with Evans is laughable. They also dumb down Yang Weining, to the extent that Ye Wenjie had to explain 43+8=51 to him. Mind you, he was a real proper engineer. (Weirdly with all the diversifying, they did not keep a single male Chinese scientist in the main team huh)

Anyways, before I go on a tangent. The writers have fast tracked everything and left out the finer text about the characters in the book. I'm not sure if they missed the point or that nowadays the audience are ruined by fast media, something like the tencent version are simply too slow for the people in the west. Any of my moots and followers who watch cdramas will know that the real good stuff is all in the build-up. It's all the little text that adds up to a fleshed out character. If the culture difference is too much for Netflix, leading them to change all the characters and most of the plot, why not just buy a western ip. There's plenty of good western sci-fi ips.

I can't help but think they want to do this because they wanted to film the scene where Ye Zhetai is beaten to death. Have an excuse to turn Ye Wenjie an angry woman. We all know why. If they really cared about showing a true China during that time, they would have spend some care with the Red Coast details as mentioned above (we did not have screens in 1960s that display Chinese text!!! And definitely no simplified Chinese characters on computers!!!!). Instead of having her snog Bai Mulin off - unrealistic since people were a lot more conserved back then, they would not have done this and it's ooc for Ye Wenjie. Falling in love with Evans - a real blasphemy. I guess the 3 Body Problem here means 3 bodies pounding at each other. Jin-Raj-Will also seem to have their own 3 body problem going on too.

(One last tangent) Ye Wenjie and Yang Dong(Vera) as scientists not believing in god but having monks at her funeral ??????????? Not even a typical normal Chinese funeral will have monks. The stereotype enforcing is real.

[beardedmrbean]

Zoomer Huey, I tend to see people saying why Gen z don’t have sex much.

Holy

Fucking

Shits

These journalists surprisedly have WORSE self awareness than there boomer relatives

Here a hint https://x.com/swannmarcus89/status/1762582001507323991?s=46

And gender dynamics are…nuked in the fields they are surveying. Women and girls are told that all men are predators and misandry is left unchecked

Also, why Hollywood act surprised about the sex abuse?

We all heard about the casting coach, and how suspiciously people from working class backgrounds like Micheal Jackson (yes his dad had his music connections. But essentially mj was a slave and was arguably was the first black child star unless I’m missing someone) and Walt Disney (though not as bad) are painted as monsters while the actual monsters are protected for decades

I mean look at Judy Garland, she was a sweet person and she did help the LBGT in Hollywood and supported the civil rights movement

But her “crazy” behavior makes more sense because she was sexually abused at a extremely young age

And she not the only one, Shirley Temple, the boy who played at the first LA Dennis the Manis

Oh and the Peter Pan actor (a lot of people leave out the part where ALL of Hollywood basically says he can choke and die because he was “too” Disney)

But sorry about the Gen stuff, but the false rape accusations, maybe if you guys didn’t view men (especially white ones) the same way Nazis viewed the Jews while saying all the working class men were Weinstein.

My Gen would have more sex

Entertainment industry has been like that since the beginning of forever, probably less so when women weren't allowed to participate but still a thing I'm sure.

As for Judy Garland it was nice to see people come out swinging in her defense when someone tried to start shit over well

She was not in control of her carer, saying no was not an option for her with this, but dumbasses that can only think in terms of today's standards never think about that.

Jay North (Dennis the Menace) did ok, so did Shirley Temple, plenty of others not so much, more recently we can look at Drew Barrymore and RDJ who both had fairly public meltdowns and problems.

Drew was ruined since her first film was ET and Spielberg takes care of the kids on set, going beyond the legal requirements.

Bobby Driscol was the Peter Pan VA top of his Wiki article.

Robert "Bobby" Cletus Driscoll (March 3, 1937 – c. March 30, 1968) was an American actor who performed on film and television from 1943 to 1960. He starred in some of the Walt Disney Studios' best-known live-action pictures of that period: Song of the South (1946), So Dear to My Heart (1949), and Treasure Island (1950), as well as RKO's The Window (1949). He served as the animation model and provided the voice for the title role in Peter Pan (1953). He received an Academy Juvenile Award for outstanding performances in So Dear to My Heart and The Window.

He just fell into the child actor pit, where he wasn't "cute" anymore couldn't get gigs and couldn't adjust to not being in the spotlight, the way he went and nobody knowing is awful to think about still.

Jackie Coogan, on the other hand was a different story.

His parents sucked and as a result there's a series of laws named after him California's Coogan Law all about protecting the earnings of child actors from their parents. % goes into a trust iirc.

He ended up OK in the end though

The false accusation thing, #me too hurt women because #believe women was taken advantage of to such a degree that even this coming out to light

has still probably not cleared up for the trooper, and men are opting to not mentor women because of not wanting to risk a false accusation, everyone screams about how rare they are, to which I say so what, why should they assume the risk even if it's minor

Former VP Mike Pence came out and said he won't be alone with a woman that's not his wife in order to ensure that there is no possibility of someone making a claim of impropriety.

And he got this response

Why is anyone going to put their neck on the line when something like what he said is going to get this kind of response.

Maybe instead of crying about how rare false accusations are they should focus on shaming the people making them and coming up with solutions to keep them from happening.

You know instead of blaming the victims of the false accusations.

All this and so much more going on that isn't in this ask goes to the I don't blame people for not having as much sex, it's actually kinda nice too, fewer std's this way.

I went on a couple tangents, hope that's ok

[edbloves]

Gale is awake in the middle of the night thinking and spiralling and trying make mental tallies of all the things he has to do and learn and help her with and holy shit he's so unprepared and what are they going to do with a child, let alone a girl??

Also I’m curious about this! Are there specific moments where they feel underprepared to raise a girl?? Which one of them do you think adapts to that aspect of things more quickly??

ouuuuu love this question!!! this ask kinda revolves around the whole concept of raising her from a child into a fully functioning person, so it's a bit extensive!

I definitely think there are moments that they really worry over Grace because she's a girl, where they wouldn't necessarily if she was a boy. At first it mostly revolves around basic stuff like, holy smokes, how the hell are we supposed to handle her hair? and what do little girls wear with dresses? and god, buck, I don't know how the first thing about what little girls like, do you?

These are all easily solvable problems through which they find answers by talking to Marge. Once the "superficial" worries are solved, they start to realize the magnitude of what raising a girl will entail, and Bucky tends to spiral over that the most initially as well as through the years, worrying about making the wrong decisions or accidentally driving his little girl away:

boys, they understand, since they were both little boys themselves - girls, not so much. they're nervous about all the things that they don't even know to ask

as she gets older, they have to make decisions about schooling: all-girls school or not? finishing school or not?

John panics about puberty, remembers his sisters at the time, the emotions running high, the ups and downs, the first period, and doesn't know how on earth he will handle that

there's also the dreaded boy situation, and that is probably what worries both men the most, because all they can think about is all the boys they knew at her age, and how they acted and thought, and they know that it would be so easy for her to end up in an unwanted situation (particularly in the late 1950s/early 1960s where she would be a teenager). they don't want to helicopter parent her because they trust her and they want her to trust them, but they struggling knowing that anything could happen that would be out of her control

John sends himself into a tizzy thinking about a boy breaking up with her, angry at a future non-existent boy for breaking her future heart when he thinks about it, so he has to actively avoid the topic in his head

instead, they just try to be very present and understanding with her, with the end goal that she knows she's allowed to come to them at any time for anything at all and she won't be in trouble, especially if she needs help

The other thing that I would come with raising a girl would be that they would start to recognize how oppressed women were in the 40's and onwards and not want that for Grace. And that's not to say that they were ignorant of it, but as men there are some things that wouldn't have even crossed their peripheral thoughts until it's put in the context of Grace. For example:

Grace coming home from school one day in tears because someone told her girls weren't allowed to be astronauts (despite her and Gale discussing the stars on a regular basis)

Or the boys get to go outside and play kickball while the girls have to sit inside in the classroom and listen to the merits of being a good housewife

The distinct lack of sex education for women would be a tough one for them too

When they start to realize just how profoundly women's rights differ, Gale get's upset and goes down a rabbit hole realizing just how much he was unaware of

They end up always reinforcing to Grace that she can do whatever she puts her mind to, and they will help her knock down the walls that she needs to. While she's still a child, John and Gale go willingly into the school to pick fights with administrators with outdated ideas, and as she gets older, they teach her to stand up for herself and get better at supporting her proudly from the sidelines.

Thanks for the thoughtful ask Anon <3

[girlactionfigure]

There is a popular quote that circulates every once in a while that reads “One person can make a difference and everyone should try.”

This individual holds a special place in my heart and also the hearts of many long-time Peace Page followers, who found this page after reading a simple story which mentioned her and which became one of the most popular posts on the Peace Page. Her name is Harriet Glickman, she is the teacher who decided to write a letter to Charles Schulz and ask him if he could create a black character on his Peanuts comic strip - that character would become Franklin, one of the first black characters in a popular comic strip. Harriet Glickman passed away Friday morning, March 27, 2020, at her home in Sherman Oaks. She was 93. Her passing was reported by a Peanuts-based website, which quoted a personal friend who said, her passing was "peaceful, in her sleep" and that the former schoolteacher had been "well prepared for this." They say representation matters, and Franklin, even though he was a fictional character, was noticed by many who did not feel they were being represented enough during those days. The original Peace Page post started: "On July 31, 1968, a young, black man was reading the newspaper when he saw something that he had never seen before. With tears in his eyes, he started running and screaming throughout the house, calling for his mom. He would show his mom, and, she would gasp, seeing something she thought she would never see in her lifetime. Throughout the nation, there were similar reactions. "What they saw was Franklin Armstrong's first appearance on the iconic comic strip "Peanuts." Although Charles Schulz deserves the accolades and credit for having the courage to create Franklin and standing by him when he started receiving racist demands to remove him, it was all started by a school teacher who decided to write a simple letter. "Harriet has a very interesting place in history," according to The LAist. "In 1968, she wrote to 'Peanuts' creator Charles Schulz asking him to do something remarkable at the time: integrate his famous comic strip." "Harriet Glickman was a white, 42-year-old suburban Los Angeles school teacher and mother raising three children when Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968," according to the Press Telegram. According to NPR, she wrote, “Since the death of Martin Luther King, 'I’ve been asking myself what I can do to help change those conditions in our society which led to the assassination and which contribute to the vast sea of misunderstanding, hate, fear and violence.'” Glickman decided to write a letter to Schulz, not knowing whether he would actually read it or even whether he would receive the letter. Glickman was especially aware of the power of comics among the young. “And my feeling at the time was that I realized that black kids and white kids never saw themselves [depicted] together in the classroom,” she said in the Washington Post. She hoped this would bring the country together and show people of color that they are not excluded from American society. At the time, Schulz, the creator of the enormously popular “Peanuts” comic strip, was already being "published in hundreds of newspapers around the United States reaching nearly 100 million readers," according to the Press Telegram. Surprisingly, Schulz did respond, but wasn't sure whether it would be right, coming from him, he didn't want to make matters worse, he felt that it may sound condescending to people of color. Glickman persisted, however, continuing her correspondence with Schulz, even having black friends write to Schulz and explain to him what it would mean to them. She told Schulz that "the gentleness of the [Peanuts would be] 'the perfect setting' for such representation," according to CBR. “I am well aware of the very long and tortuous road ahead,” she added. “I’m sure one doesn’t make radical changes in so important an institution without a lot of shock waves from syndicates, clients, etc. You have, however, a stature and reputation which can withstand a great deal.” This conversation would continue until one day, Schulz told Glickman to check her newspaper on July 31, 1968. On that date, the cartoon, as created by Schulz, shows Charlie Brown meeting a new character, named Franklin. Other than his color, Franklin was just an ordinary kid who befriends and helps Charlie Brown. In a speech at American University of Health Sciences in Signal Hill, California in 2018, talking to a group of children and adults, Glickman said, the 1960s in the United States was “a time long before any of you were born, a time when not everyone was understanding of other people, when young African Americans couldn’t go to the same beach as white children and when schools were separate.” According to the Press Telegram, the Rev. Gregory Johnson, co-founder of American University of Health Sciences who invited Glickman to the event, said he wanted her to know what a profound effect her action with Schulz had on him. “I appreciate so much what you did in improving relations. I wouldn’t be here without you,” he said. Glickman was born in Sioux City, Iowa, and lived in Chicago before moving to Southern California and a job in the Burbank School District and eventually UCLA before retiring. Glickman explained in previous interviews that her parents were "concerned about others, and the values that they instilled in us about caring for and appreciating everyone of all colors and backgrounds — this is what we knew when we were growing up, that you cared about other people . . . And so, during the years, we were very aware of the issues of racism and civil rights in this country [when] black people had to sit at the back of the bus, black people couldn’t sit in the same seats in the restaurants that you could sit . . . Every day I would see, or read, about black children trying to get into school and seeing crowds of white people standing around spitting at them or yelling at them . . . and the beatings and the dogs and the hosings and the courage of so many people in that time." Glickman, according to The LAist, said someone once commented to her that "‘It took courage [to do what she did, to make a stand].’ I said, ’No it didn’t, it didn’t take courage for me to sit in Sherman Oaks in my comfortable home with my three children and type a letter.'" "Courage," she said, "was little Ruby Bridges, the little girl who integrated a school in the south who had to come with the National Guard with people spitting at her and yelling at her and throwing things at her and the parents who drew their children out. That was courage." Because of Glickman, because of Schulz, people around the world were introduced to a little boy named Franklin, and even today, when Franklin is mentioned, fond memories are evoked, such as those like the young, black man, who with tears in his eyes, started running and screaming throughout the house because he was introduced to Franklin for the first time. Barbara Brandon-Croft, the first African American woman to have a nationally syndicated comic strip in the mainstream press, was 10 years old in 1968, said, “I remember feeling affirmed by seeing Franklin in ‘Peanuts.’ ‘There’s a little black kid! Thank goodness! We do matter.’" When the Peace Page first shared its story about Franklin's birth, one Peace Page reader commented, "I normally don't comment on Facebook but I feel compelled to now. As a black child growing up in the 70's and 80's U grew up in mostly white neighborhoods. One of the most difficult things at that time is my sense of where I belonged in the world. I didn't have anybody in my position i could relate to on TV or in the movies. Then I started reading Peanut cartoons and I met Franklin and I saw myself for once. As a character, Franklin was so important to me I named my third son after him. thank you . . . for helping me find my place." That Peace Page story has now reached 22,498,877 people, receiving 2,091,450 reactions. It has inspired an Upworthy article and has been shared all over the world, including by media companies in Australia and Italy. When the Peace Page contacted the Charles M. Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa, California, one of the representatives said that Glickman regularly visited the museum and she was fondly called "Franklin's Mom." When she saw that Peace Page post, she commented on the Peace Page, "It's always a joy for me to share the Franklin story. I consider him my fourth child and he is very much loved." In the speech in 2018 at American University of Health Sciences, she told the audience that it still “feels like yesterday [when Franklin was introduced].” She said some things have changed, but others have not. “We still have so many problems on how we see each other,” she said in an article by the Press Telegram. She told the children: “You can make a difference in making the world a better place. When you see something that makes you feel angry or upset, don’t just complain, do something about it. And remember that we all care for each other; we’re all the same loving, caring people.” She then autographed a book introducing Franklin to Charlie Brown, “Nice to Meet You, Franklin!” and urged each youngster “to make a difference.” Thank you, Harriet Glickman, also, for making a difference and making the world a better place. [Photo courtesy of CBR]

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

[arcticdementor]

The devout and observant Christian is undoubtedly aware of the precarious state of the faith in our modern world and is becoming increasingly open to out-of-the-box solutions. One such possible solution is to take a cue from our bearded Amish neighbors and form rule-based religious communities—but maybe without the horse and buggy.

A brief peak at the current state of American Christianity should disabuse anybody of the notion that this is unnecessarily drastic.

America’s traditional Mainline Protestant denominations are bleeding out so quickly they will likely be gone within 20 years. That is not my prediction, but their own. The ELCA (the main Lutheran branch) projects they’ll only have 16,000 worshippers by 2041; the PCUSA (the main Presbyterian branch) lost almost 40% of their members in the last decade, causing one analyst to note, “At its current rate of shrinkage the PC(USA) will not exist in about 20 years;” and data for the Episcopal Church shows the same 20-year timeline until the denomination runs out of people in the pews.

More conservative denominations used to chuckle at these headlines and say, “If only they preached the Gospel instead of liberal activism, they’d be growing like us.” But they don’t say that anymore. The Southern Baptist Convention, the largest of the Evangelical churches, has lost 14% of their members since 2006; the Methodists are losing members while in the middle of a brutal split; and for Catholics, according to Bishop Robert Barron while speaking at the 2019 bishops’ annual conference, “Half the kids that we baptized and confirmed in the last 30 years are now ex-Catholics or unaffiliated.”

There is one major exception, though: the Amish—a mustard seed that is growing into a large tree in front of our eyes. The Amish arrived in the United States shortly after their founder, Jakob Ammann, split with the Mennonites in 1693 for being too lax on enforcing their communal rules, as laid out in the Dordrecht Confession of Faith. For the next 200 years, the Amish were just a few eccentric families in Pennsylvania that spoke an archaic Swiss German. By 1920, these few families had grown to 5,000 people and since then have doubled about every 15 to 20 years, including between 2000 and 2020 when they doubled to 351,000.

Unless something changes drastically within their culture, this doubling is projected to continue. One demographer, Lyman Stone, showed that at their current rate of growth, they will easily make up a majority of the United States in 200 years. This means the current moment may mark the halfway point between them arriving as a small band of friends and their inheriting the most powerful nation on the planet. They may seem like a backwards remnant of the past, but in reality, they will almost certainly play a major role in the future. This will become more evident after they soon dwarf more well-known churches like the Episcopalians and Lutherans.

…

So, when virtually all other Christian groups are seeing plummeting, or at best stagnant, numbers, why are the Amish seeing growth like this? The answers people typically give are that they have a very high birth rate and an over 90% retention rate. But that’s like saying someone is wealthy because they made a lot of money and then saved most of it. It begs the question—how? How do they have such large families—with 6 or 7 children per woman—while the country at large has a below-replacement rate of 1.6 children? And how are they able to keep all those children within their communities?

I believe it all comes down to one thing—the Code—or as the Amish call it, the Ordnung.

The Amish Ordnung is different in each community, but if it strays too far, other communities will no longer associate with that community; so there are limits. While outside observers will just see strict rules about hats and beards and technology use, the Amish see the glue that holds them together as a people.

It’s very important to realize that each rule is chosen as a group and with the goal of strengthening individual virtue (especially humility), family and community ties, and their faith.

As an example, most Amish communities don’t allow phones in their homes, but it’s not because they think phones are inherently evil and ban them completely. They often have shared phone booths at the end of the street to use when necessary and at their places of work. They just don’t have phones in the home because they believe it will take away from the purposes of a home—things like family bonding, chores, and recreation. Nobody who has sat in a room of family and friends all silently swiping at their phones can tell me their concern isn’t warranted.

…

The success of this model was discussed by Eric Kaufmann, a political-demography scholar at the University of London, in his provocative 2010 book, Shall the Religious Inherit the Earth?: Demography and Politics in the Twenty-first Century. Kaufmann noted the growth of groups like the Amish and the Haredi Jews (often called the Ultra-Orthodox) and attributed it to their birth rates and strong communities. Haredi Jews, for example, who also live by strict community codes, were only a few percentage points of the Israeli schools in 1960 but are now about a third of students, and he predicts they will very soon eclipse secular Jews. Haredi growth in Brooklyn, New York, is seeing similar growth, with high birth rates and retention.

…

Laurence R. Iannaccone’s 1994 study “Why Strict Churches Are Strong,” which has been frequently cited and confirmed since, gives more detail on the success of certain community codes.

Iannaconne found that groups can be strict on items as long as they provide a “close substitute.” Think, for example, of banning social media but then providing a lot of new in-person social opportunities to make up for that sacrifice.

“Strictness works,” he says, but the rules can’t be so strict they make people miserable and drive them away, or as Iannaconne says, “Arbitrary strictness will fail just as surely as excessive strictness.” The rules do have to be strong enough, though, to keep “free-riders” from claiming the benefits of the community without participating. He called these rules “costly signals,” like the sacrifices the Amish make by limiting their clothing styles and technology use. A person would be very unlikely to go through all of those costly steps for community benefits they could get more easily elsewhere. By eliminating free-riders—whose “mere presence dilutes a group’s resources, reducing the average level of participation, enthusiasm, energy, and the like”—they see the reverse, very high levels of participation, enthusiasm, and energy.

It’s not just Amish and Haredi Jews that have seen success with following a community code beyond the laws of the state—think of the monastics who survived in far-flung places relying on The Rule of St. Benedict; knights that followed the Codes of Chivalry; bands of cowboys on the American frontier who stuck close to the Code of the West, which gave detailed guidance on passing strangers on the trail, when to tip your hat, and with which hand you should hold your whiskey; and the tribes along the Afghanistan-Pakistan border who have followed the Pashtunwali code since pre-Islamic times.

…

Modern Christians interested in starting a rule-based community would need to create some real benefits that are harder to come by in society at large. I’d suggest the basic benefits of a traditional community (help with childcare and schooling, coherent customs on dating and marriage, providing purpose and companionship to the elderly, cultural celebrations and gatherings, friendship, and assistance during hardship) would be plenty.

Then, they could agree together on some basic rules that are costly enough to separate the serious from the free-riders while not being arbitrary or unnecessarily strict. Targeting the rules toward areas that are particular downfalls for modern Americans (promiscuity, pornography, social media, screen-addiction, substance abuse) would be a good start. Agreeing to forego these in this time and culture would almost certainly be a costly enough signal.

Also, many of the rules should take into account issues like abuse of power, cults of personality, convenient personal revelations from God, sexual abuse, and a host of other issues inherent to tight-knit communities (and larger ones for that matter). The ability for a trusted leader to turn out to be an evil psychopath should never be underestimated, so rules should take that likelihood as a given and guard against it. The Amish, for example, draw straws to choose their leaders to avoid jockeying for power.

One last consideration is to what extent “walling yourself off from the modern world,” as Kaufmann said, is appropriate. Kaufmann said that was the best strategy for growth, but growth is not the only thing to weigh. There are also things like loving your neighbors, having an influence on the greater culture, and not stifling curiosity and creativity. Some walls are necessary, like between a teen boy and pornographic websites or between a child and an activist teacher, but a balance between walls and open spaces should be carefully pursued as a group. For example, language is used as a wall for the Amish (who speak Pennsylvania Dutch) and the Haredi Jews (who largely speak Yiddish), but that would likely be a step too far for most communities, as would their highly-detailed clothing restrictions.

…

Out-of-the-box? Sure. But with the exponential growth of the Amish and similar rule-based communities (and our own failure to find a workable model for modern Christian life) it may be a paradigm to consider. Even without our participation, it will certainly be how a fair amount of future Christians will live.

[mae-gi-writes]

Plus One | Kevin Moon (Around The World Collab)

When your boyfriend of eight years suddenly decides to break up with you right before your destined trip for your cousin’s wedding, nothing can cure your broken heart. In a desperate attempt to make you feel better, Kevin states that he will be your plus one.

Genre: little angst, fluff, friends to lovers. 

This fic is part of a collab “Around The World”, featuring different countries x the boyz members. I had the utmost pleasure of working with such an amazing group of talented writers for this project, so please don’t forget to check out their works too! ^^ <3 

This fic is takes place on Mauritius Island. 

Word count: 9k IZ A LONG ONE SO BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUPS

Tagging: @aniyawoos​ @chaoticdeobi​ @moondustaeil​ @juyeonzz​ @atbzkingdom​ @2hyunjae​ @jopping-to-my-kpop @jeongsinkookie @ihearttbz​ @heartyyjeno​ @bahnmi07 @sadlandia​ @itsquxxn​

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Eight years, gone just like that. 

I stare at a spot on my navy blue suitcase, not really focused on what’s before me and more concerned about the memories flickering past  my lids. I can’t help it. Everytime I see luggage, it makes me think of the way I kicked him out of my life. Everytime, a slab of pain will grab my heart between its icy fingers and squeeze it so that I can barely breathe. Everytime, until I feel like I’m drowning inside dark waters without the real desire to swim to the surface. 

My psychiatrist told me that it had been for the better. That it had been an obsessive, unhealthy kind of love in the first place. But was it better now that I couldn’t even feel my heart in the hollow space where it’s supposed to be? 

“Y/N.” 

Still, I remember the messages on his phone, the way his touch would feel strange, eerily hollow for some reason, the way he’d avoid my eyes whenever he’d tell me that he was going out with the guys. I remember smelling his coat and recoiling at the cheap scent of perfume clinging to it like second skin, how he’d constantly tell me how wonderful I was-- too wonderful for him -- and that I should find better, that I didn’t deserve someone like him.

And then, when I’d stumbled into our flat a little earlier than I was meant to -- since my gym class had been cancelled -- and took note of the trail of shoes, followed by a coat, a shirt, a thong, before my ears picked up on the noises echoing from the bedroom doors…

“Y/N?” 

His face when he spotted me, the astounded expression like a dog that had just been caught sneaking into the pantry. And the girl, a prettier woman, a curvy woman, with red lips and with those beautifully deep red wine locks tumbling down her back with the perfect physique that could make any man drool. That girl, who was none other than one of my good friends at work and who had spent most part of the year listening to my rants about him. 

“Y/N!”

“Huh?” My head whips up when I register my name being called out, looking up to see a raven-haired, petite-faced man leaning against the bedroom doorway with raised brows and a concerned expression on his face. 

“Oh, you’re here,” I say, as he crosses the doorway and sits beside me. The bed dips down under his weight as he tilts his head in that knowing manner of his, “daydreaming again?” 

“No,” I mumble, but he sees right through my facade and with a sigh, his arms wrap around my shoulder before pillowing his head against my shoulder. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs as I allow myself to lean back against him, against his comfort. His lavender scent wraps around me, a little bed of comfort amidst all the pain. 

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” I murmur, tears stinging the corner of my eyes, “it hurts, Kev.” 

He only holds me a little closer, a little tighter.

If there is one person that I can trust more than myself, it’s Kevin Moon. I’ve known Kevin ever since high school, having hung out in the same friend group until we had become partners for an art project. It was only then that we’d become closer, and had been close ever since. With his angular features and almond mono lidded eyes and thin lips that were constantly shaped in a pout, the Korean-born man had moved to Canada when he was young, just like I had a few years ago. He had kept me afloat during my university days, I had comforted him through his first break up. He had been present during my final Fine Arts Photography Exhibition, I was up all night coming up with re-branding concepts for his design project. Overall, Kevin had pretty much been a constant in my life, you get the gist of it.

When he found out that my boyfriend had cheated just a few days before our destined trip to attend my cousin’s wedding -- mind you, I had been sobbing waterfalls and it was a miracle he even understood me through my blubbering mess -- he had half a mind to storm up to the guy and rip his throat out. But he did the most surprising thing; booked a ticket for himself and turned up at my flat on the eve of the departure, stating that he was going to accompany me to that wedding, whether I liked it or not.

My cousin, Emma, was getting married right where home was: Mauritius. The memories I once had of the small island nestled right in the Indian Ocean on the right of Madagascar, was of my grandma’s comforting food, the sea scented air that washed along with the too-white sandy beaches, the multitudes of merchants selling all kinds of fresh fruits and vegetables on the side of the road, and small corner stores that looked like they had come out of a 1960’s movie. People liked to claim that Mauritius was paradise on earth, and in a way, it is.

“Come on,” Kevin had nagged when I shook my head adamantly. He’d wriggled his plane ticket before my nose, “you’re not going to let that loser spoil such a happy event are you? Emma’s waiting for you!” 

In the end, he’d won. Which is why we are here, staying at my cousin, Emma’s, apartment in a village called Moka, located at the foot of a mountain and has an abundance of forestry adorning the sides of the road. It's chilly here, in comparison to the harbourfront, and constantly smells like fresh rain and has a gentle fresh breeze blowing through.

“You know, assholes like him are not worth thinking about,” Kevin says now, his arm a gentle soothing caress up and down my back, “your brain might rot.” 

I can’t help but let out a soft, choked up laugh.

“It’s our first day here, let’s not ruin it by thinking about him, hm?” Kevin continues soothingly and I nod in agreement. He’s right. I’m just wasting time by reliving memories that I should be banishing from my mind. 

“Okay!” he brightens up then, “where shall we go? The sea? The market? Or do you want to go eat?!” 

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

The first few days are about meeting up with family and rediscovering Mauritius for what it is. Emma gives me a full-fledged hug the moment I open the door to her house, pressing me close to her with such motherly warmth that it takes everything in me not to break down right then and there. I greet my uncles and engage in small-talk with my aunts, help my grandma out in the kitchen as she continuously asks me why I’ve gotten so thin. While I know the main reason, I decide to smile and spare her the details, as embarrassing as it is. 

No one mentions him, until one of my uncles slips during a conversation with Kevin, “so you’re Y/N’s boyfriend. Such a pleasure to meet you! We’ve heard so much about you that we started thinking she was just making things up.” 

“Er--” Kevin reddens, “I--” 

“So how did you two meet?”

It is at this very instant that my mouth decides to move on its own and I blurt out, “we’re high school friends.” 

“Oh highschool sweethearts! How cute!” 

Kevin doesn’t fail to mention what a mistake I’ve made to lie to my entire family to save face.

“I feel guilty,” he says as we walk out to the car, keys dangling from my wrist. 

I unlock the car, “it’s fine. We’ll be in and out before they know it. They don’t have to know anything.” 

“Hm, sure.” 

After some well-deserved family time, Kevin and I decide to head to the west of the island to catch the sunset, my camera stuffed neatly in the backseat, where Kevin has tossed a few spare towels just in case. We each have donned our swimsuits for the occasion and it doesn’t take an expert to see the excitement thrumming through Kevin’s veins as he sits beside me like an excited child in the passenger seat. 

“I never realized that you guys drive on the left side of the road,” he comments, head whipping back and forth in-between the passage of cars. 

“Yeah, it takes some getting used to, especially if you’re crossing,” it is then that I notice that there is a newly built mall as we turn left at the green light, “hey, that’s new. I’ve never seen this before.” 

“Cas-ca-velle,” he mumbles out with that strong accent of his. He is definitely not one to know French and I’ve been acting as his translator all along, considering that my family speaks French at home, “what does that mean?” 

“Beats me. It’s just a fancy name for a new shopping mall,” I peer into its parking lot, “wanna visit?” 

“Whatever floats your boat, honey. I’m all in.”

The mall is longer than it is wide, with white archways decked with wooden-style roofs that give way to an open-plan exterior. A wide beige cemented pathway occupies the space, with shops lined on either side. 

“I never realized, but you guys are very multicultural,” comments Kevin as we pass by another family of four chattering quickly in a mixture of French and Creole. 

“We’re similar to Canada that way.” 

“Do you miss it here?” 

My eyes glance over at him, notice the soft empathy in his expression.

“I guess I do sometimes,” I say while I kick at a stray pebble, “It’s like homesickness. But in a way I can’t quite explain,” after a moment, I ask, “do you miss Korea?”

“The food, mostly,” he grins bashfully, “my halmeoni makes a killer gamja tang.” 

“Let’s go visit her one day.”

“Is that a promise?” he asks as I shrug, “if you want it to be.” 

It’s a little past six when we drive up to the Flic En Flac beach and as we gather our things, my eyes light up upon falling on a nearby roti stand. I quickly slap Kevin’s arm in my bout of excitement. 

“Ouch! What? What is it?” 

“Kevin, you’re not going to believe this,” I point at the stand in question, “this roti stand? It’s the best roti in Mauritius. Here, take this,” I don’t wait before shoving my bag and camera in his arms, “I’m gonna buy us some. You go and find us a spot on the beach.” 

“But--” 

I don’t wait for him to finish his sentence before taking off, greeting the merchant who is just about to be wrapping up to ask whether I can get two rotis with ‘cari saumon’ (roughly translated into salmon curry mixed with indian spices), local and freshly made. The smell wafts through the folded paper wrappers as I grab them. They smell just like my childhood, where everything had just been as easy as having rotis by the beach without a care about the future that is to come. It’s nostalgic and I can’t help the smile tugging up my mouth at the thought. 

Kevin is already settled atop a pair of spare towels and looks up at the sound of my footsteps approaching. I pass him one of the paper wrappers and he takes a peek, confusion flitting across his face. 

“This smells spicy,” he mutters loudly enough for me to hear, “it looks like naan bread.” 

“It is,” I agree, “except it’s flatter and more like a crepe.” 

Throwing me a hesitant glance, he takes a small bite. I watch his face go from confused to impressed in a few seconds, before his eyes whip up to mine, “woah, this is good.” 

“Told you so.” 

“But this is really, really good,” he can’t help but marvel at it and laughing, I proceed to dig into my own roti, allowing my mouth to be filled with that salty fish taste melting along my tastebuds, the curry spices giving it the nice tangy kick you wouldn’t find anywhere else. The roti is soft and practically melts on my tongue and I can’t help but moan at how good it is. 

“God, this is everything I’ve been looking for my whole life,” I find myself telling him, wrapped up in momentary bliss, “this, this is everything.” 

I can feel his eyes on me, so intense that my own flicker up in question. He drops his gaze the moment I do and I frown, confused. 

“What?” I can’t help but ask, wondering why he suddenly seems so meek, so shy and awkward, “what is it?” 

“Nothing,” he replies like he’s trying to be casual, except that it’s anything but. When he gazes back at me, I notice the warmth in his maroon eyes, more the color of caramel in the dim light from the sunset basking his profile in a golden glow, “I think--I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you so happy, since...” 

He doesn’t need to continue, for I know where this is going. Indeed, this is the first time in many months that I haven’t paid any attention to the hole inside my heart. 

And it feels good.

“Yeah,” I murmur as I watch the sun settle on the ocean’s horizon, fire kissing water, “I don’t know, I just feel like this is nice. Like it’s right.” 

I spare him a glance from the corner of my peripheral and watch him shift. His sleeveless shirt slips, allowing me a glimpse of the naked skin underneath. I quickly look away, slightly embarrassed at the notion of even thinking of him in such a way. 

“That’s how you should be, Y/N,” Kevin murmurs back just as softly. It’s almost like talking too loudly will break the sudden spell that has settled over our shoulders. He takes a sip of his beer before continuing, “you’ve suffered enough for someone who deserves nothing but shit for what he’s done.” 

There’s a small pause as I digest his words. Then, I manage to murmur out, “thanks, Kevin.” 

“No problem.” 

Another small bout of silence ensues, covered up by the sound of the ocean roaring up the sand, distant birds chirping in the fading light of the sunset drowning into the now orange-flecked waters. 

“Hey Y/N.” 

I glance at him. He’s gorgeous, even more so somehow. Maybe it’s the time of the day, maybe it’s the mood, or maybe it’s the way my heart can’t help but be swallowed in gratefulness whenever I look at him.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you know water has memory?” 

I choke on my beer, “do not-- and I mean this-- do not quote Frozen with me.” 

“Huh, I tried.” 

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

“So, Kevin huh?” 

My eyes shoot up to meet Emma’s in her crusty-dust-filled mirror, presently lounging on her bed and flipping through a book as I had been trying on my bridesmaid gown. Kevin is downstairs, helping out with the barbeque grill with the rest of the family, and it is only now that I get to have some alone time with the woman I consider my sister. 

She’s the only one that knew the exact details of my breakup, and that Kevin is only a mere replacement to cover my humiliated ass. I remember her trying to calm me down when I had called in a frenzy, practically hyperventilating because of the amount of pain that gripped at my heart and was choking me of all air. 

I revert my eyes back to the dress, a baby blue as bright as a summer sky, and smooth my hands down my sides, “he’s been so good to me, ever since…” I can’t finish the sentence, voice already wobbling at the thought that comes with it.

“Hey,” Emma’s murmur causes me to look up, and in her eyes I see a flicker of understanding, “he’s not worth it.” 

“I know,” I swallow back the tears crawling up my throat, “I know, it’s just--a hard pill to swallow.”

A hand comes to a rest at my elbow, before my cousin tucks her chin atop my shoulder, “it’ll be alright, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve you." 

I nod. Then, just to change the subject so that I don’t break down in her arms, I gesture towards the dress, “so? How does it look?” 

Emma tugs at some pieces here and there, rearranging the fabric as she sees fit, “I think it looks good. You look gorgeous. Kevin will swoon, for sure.” 

“It’s not like that,” I hurriedly say as I strip out of the dress and put it back on its hanger, “we’re just friends.” 

“Mhm,” she throws me a pointed look, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “'just friends' doesn't feel right..” 

“Emma, really? Right after my breakup?” 

“He came to Mauritius just for you Y/N,” she squeezes my shoulders comfortingly, “doesn’t that count for something?” 

“Well, we’ve been friends since high school so…”

“I don’t think just any friend in high school would do such a thing if I asked,” Emma catches my eye in the mirror, her gaze deep and meaningful, “just think about that.” 

I just nod in hopes that she’ll stop yapping away at my nonexistent relationship with Kevin, whatever that means. The hole in my heart is still so raw and filled with pain that I can’t even start thinking about another relationship. The thought alone is enough to drain me of all energy and I decide to brush it off for now as I follow Emma out in the backyard now filled with familiar chatter and the smell of cooked meat wafting through the air, with the sky bruising a soft purple to signal the end of a long summer day. 

Catching sight of Kevin as I bring out one of the many salad bowls that my family has prepared, my lips can’t help but twitch into a slow smile when I see him by the grill, whipping away the multitudes of flies zipping back and forth as my other cousin deftly flips the sausages upside down with a trained rhythm that only years of experience can bring. 

“Kevin! You’re not doing your job right!” my cousin cries playfully. Kevin attempts to flap the newspaper around while screeching, “oh god, my eyes are burning!"

“Someone bring more meat!” My cousin hollers. 

“There’s more?!” 

“He’s doing a great job,” my grandmother’s voice brings my attention back to the salad bowl in my hands, and I quickly bend to kiss her cheek as she continues, “better than any of your other cousins. They never help out.” 

“That’s because you pamper them too much, grandma,” I grin at her and follow her to the dining table where my aunts are already settling down amongst themselves. 

The evening passes by with good food and good company, the sky darkening and dotting with a veil of stars that has Kevin gawking in awe. I'm not surprised, you don't see skies like that anywhere, a sky that isn't so intoxicated with modern chemicals. My uncles take it upon themselves to introduce Kevin to all the types of Mauritian delicacies, such as chickpea fritters we call 'gato pima', small balls of graped choko vegetable and minced pork 'niouk yen', and to top it all off, a plate of cornmeal pudding also known as 'pudine mai' that makes Kevin's eyes go wide with surprise.

"This is dessert?" He holds it up in his hand, "with ...cornmeal?"

"Sure is," one of my aunts chime in with a smile, "made it just this morning."

It's past midnight when we get back to our little apartment with Emma's dress hanging off my arms, which Kevin doesn't hesitate to grab from my hold despite my protests. 

"It's fine dude," he flashes me a quick smile, albeit tired, and my heart does this weird little squeeze in my chest at his thoughtfulness. 

He's kind. Too kind. I really don't deserve someone like him. 

"I'm sorry," I say as we settle onto the small couch, shoulders fitted snugly against each other, "my family is kinda overwhelming."

"No no," Kevin looks over, edges of his lips curled up, "I actually love your family, you know."

My chest warms, "thanks."

There is a moment of silence that we enjoy, the day's events sinking into my bones. 

"Hey," he murmurs.

"Hm?"

My eyes slide over to catch his, dark pools glimmering with a certain softness that catches my attention. 

I bite my lip. It suddenly feels a little warm.

"What is it?" I ask, voice hoarse.

"Is oreo a sandwich?" 

I sit up so suddenly that I jostle him, "wait--what?"

He grins up at me with that little nose scrunch that I can't help but find endearing, "is oreo a sandwich?" I open my mouth to answer but he beats me to it, "is cereal a soup?"

"Stop."

Reclining back to lace his hands at the back of his head, he says, "is ketchup a smoothie?" 

"Stop it."

"What about hotdogs? Are they sandwiches?" He continues in a singsong voice and rolling my eyes, I make a move to punch him once more. But he's faster, hand shooting out to hold my wrists. He pulls me over and I stumble, knee pressing against the side of his leg. 

"Come on. Answer it," he wriggles his eyebrows.

"Nope."

“Don’t be a party pooper.” 

“You’re so annoying.” 

"Are you sick of me yet?" His face is so close that I notice the creases at the corner of his eyes when he smiles.

"That's an understatement."

"But really, do you think oreo is a sandwich?"

"No! Oreos are just oreos!"

“You’re no fun,” He pouts before finally releasing his hold. I draw back with a roll of my eyes, settling beside him once more and pillowing my head onto his shoulder.

Emma’s right. Kevin had sacrificed so much to be here with me, and he doesn’t even know Emma. Yet, he immediately dropped everything so that he could be my plus one, so that I wouldn’t have to face the music alone. The thought makes my heart swell with emotion and suddenly I’m all too aware of his presence beside me. 

I shift to gaze at him, eyes tracing the curve of his nose, the indent above his lips before I whisper, “hey Kevin.” 

“Hm?” 

“Why’d you come?” 

His eyes flicker over to mine then. A heartbeat passes. For a moment, I wonder if he can hear my heartbeat suddenly throbbing a little too loudly in my chest. 

“Good question.” 

Another pause. 

“That’s not an answer,” I laugh slightly, to show that it’s all just fun and games.

But when I catch his eyes next, there’s something else brimming in them. They’re tender with emotion and it catches me so off guard that I almost don’t catch his next set of words:

“Because I care about you.” 

My heart gives a quick lurch but I somehow can’t tear my gaze away. I want to say something. Anything. 

But all I can muster is a soft, “oh.” 

“Why do you ask?” he asks, voice hoarse.

I hesitate, “Emma asked why. And...I guess I wanted to know too.” 

“Oh.” 

The air feels heavy, heightened with the things that are threatening to slip off the edge of my tongue. A mixed series of ‘but why’s and ‘can’t you tell me more’ jumbling up my thoughts with so many possibilities that I decide to stay quiet for the sake of not ruining the moment. Because there’s this lingering fear that once I do say something, then it’ll just pull me down a rabbit hole that I can’t crawl out of, that the only escape lies on the other side.

And I don’t know if I want to take that leap yet. My heart is already so fragile with the aftermath of a love that went wrong. I don’t know how much more I can take. 

So I just stay quiet and let out a soft sigh, and though Kevin shifts as if he wants to say something, he doesn’t. The question just hangs there between us, in-between the slithers of moonlight and in the cold Moka air, like a perpetual ghost we ignore as we drift off to sleep.

----------

Something shifts between us after that. It’s unspoken of, but suddenly, I am all too aware of Kevin as a whole. Things that I hadn’t noticed before surface as we spend most of our free time visiting the rest of the island; like how he loves ruffling his hair whenever he feels uncomfortable, or the way his bicep curls as his arm drapes over the wheel with the barest hint of muscle that is enough to be attractive yet subtle, or how he smirks in that attractive way of his whenever he thinks something is undeniably adorable. 

The good thing about having Kevin is that I don’t get to think of him all too much, which is a blessing in itself. It’s been days since I’ve shed another tear and for that, I have to say I’m glad that I’m making progress.

We spent the last few days before the wedding traveling around the island to visit all the touristy spots that I know Kevin will enjoy, like a hike all the way to the top of Le Morne mountain, where I explain that’s where slaves would throw themselves off when their masters would find them. We visited Bois Cheri, a tea-making factory where Kevin had the pleasure of tasting all different kinds of teas cultivated in the fields below, and ate lunch on the Caudan Waterfront as we gazed at the boats lulling along the harbour. 

“Woah, this place makes me feel like I’m in Aladdin somehow,” Kevin’s mouth is wide agape as his eyes try to take in the endless racks of stands selling fresh fruits and vegetables of the day. The Port-Louis Bazaar has always been one of my favourite places to visit, but it’s also one of the busiest. Even now as we attempt to squeeze our way through, people are jostling us here and there, causing me to press my bag to my chest in case any pickpockets are nearby. I prompt Kevin to do the same. 

“Hey Y/N, I wanna check out the bags over there,” Kevin motions towards the hand-woven baskets situated at the far end of the market and I nod as we keep moving forward with the crowd like a pair of salmons trying to swim upstream. But there’s so many people, it’s so suffocating that it gets hard to keep up with Kevin’s figure. Someone elbows my shoulder and I groan, stumbling to the side in irritation, only to get pushed forward by another. 

“Seriously--” I curse under my breath, when a hand suddenly appears before my eyes.

Looking up to see Kevin’s outstretched arm, I am only greeted with his bashful smile and averted eyes. 

“Come on,” he doesn’t even wait for my consent before slipping his palm over my own and tugging me along, his hold firm and strong despite his skinny frame and the action is enough to render a flurry of butterflies soaring over my stomach. 

Stop, I try telling my subconscious. That does nothing, however, to stop my neck from tingling with unfamiliar heat. 

Kevin’s hand feels so warm. It’s comfortable, safe. 

And I’m liking it a little too much.

He doesn’t let go when we reach the desired stand and talk over which bag looks the best and keeps his hand in mine for the entirety of our journey back to the car. Only when I unlock the doors that his palm finally drops from my hold and air rushes over my palm that is now a little too cold without his warmth. But while a multitude of questions are burning the back of my throat, they fall apart halfway through at the thought of his answer, before I decide to drop it altogether. 

Kevin, on the other hand, doesn’t seem the least bit affected. 

When the day of the wedding finally rolls around, I drive my car to Emma’s after a quick breakfast that Kevin surprised me with -- to my surprise, he’d managed to make a decent eggs and toast without burning the place down -- so that I can help her get into her gown and more importantly so that she doesn’t run away, lest her mind goes in a frenzy at the thought of tying the knot. 

“You’ll be fine,” I reassure her, teasing a few of her curls so that they slip down to her chest in a perfect wave. She looks stunningly beautiful, with her strapless white dress that shimmers with diamonds in the light with every movement she makes. 

I reach out to smooth over her veil so that it falls on either side of her face, frames her perfectly, and notice her big brown eyes staring back at me through her vanity mirror. 

“You look beautiful,” I can’t keep the awe from my voice. 

Her face blossoms into a smile, “you too.” 

“Ah come on, you can’t say that to me on your wedding day,” I shove her playfully on the shoulder, “you’re the star of the show. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.” 

“Okay mom,” she rolls her eyes before changing the subject, “So, how have things been? With Kevin?” My hands freeze in mid-action, “It’s good.” 

I don’t have to look at her to know that she’s giving me a pointed look.

I sigh, “well, okay. Maybe you’re right. About the whole…’just friends’ thing not being true.” 

“Why?” she straightens up, turns to me, “what happened? Did you kiss? Did he make a move--” 

“No we didn’t kiss,” I’m quick to answer as my cheeks heat up. And after a few beats of hesitation, I give her a summary; the way he’d looked at me that night with eyes that held so much in them that it had made my chest swell, the way that he’d snitch glances at me whenever he thought I wasn’t paying attention, and the fact that he’d grabbed my hand and didn’t let go even long after the crowd wasn’t an issue anymore. 

Emma’s eyes are wide and sparkling with a feeling that I know all too well, I can practically see the cogs turning in her head and quickly shook mine in rapid retaliation, “Emma, no.” 

“But--But he’s perfect for you!” she bellows in protest, “What do you mean ‘no’?!” 

“I can’t go there. Not after,...not now, it’s too soon…” 

She rolls her eyes, “it’s not like he’s asking you to marry him, christ’s sake. He likes you, and I feel like you’re only trying to deprive yourself because you feel like it’s not right.” 

“It’s not right--”

“Who says so?” she cuts me off then, her gaze hardening on mine with such intensity it takes everything in me not to flinch back, “who says it’s not right? It doesn’t matter if it’s after two days, two weeks, two months. You think I don’t know how it feels to be heartbroken? You can’t just keep thinking about the past. You’re going to hurt yourself that way.” 

My teeth sink down onto my lower lip, her words like ice-cold knives aimed straight at my chest. 

“What you can control, right now, is the present, Y/N.” 

“I know,” I mumble out half-heartedly.

“I can see it, you know, the way he looks at you,” she shakes her head, “even if you don’t like him back, you gotta be aware of all that he’s done for you.” 

Her hands find their way to mine, enclosing them in her grasp before squeezing them with such care that I can’t stop the tears crawling up the back of my throat. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs next, “I don’t want to pressure you if that’s not how you feel. That--That was not my intention,” her eyes latch onto mine, filled with understanding, “I just want you to be happy.” 

Happy. 

That’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time. 

“Don’t you dare cry now,” Emma says while waving her hands around in warning, “you’re going to ruin your makeup and we definitely don’t want that.” 

I sniffle, trying my best to hold in the tears now brimming through my eyes, “you’re right,” I attempt to smile, albeit it’s wobbly, “we don’t.” 

“Come here,” she tugs my arm so that I fall into her embrace. Her head finds her way to my shoulder and she hugs me tight, not caring that her veil is getting all bunched up and wrinkled, “you’ll be okay,” she whispers, one hand stroking my back, “you’ll be just fine, little one.” 

Then, pulling back and pushing a few strands away from my face, she flashes a bright smile, “we should probably head to the church soon.” 

----------

“We now declare you, Vincent and Emma, as husband and wife.” 

The church explodes in a round of applause and I join in the clapping, furiously trying to keep the tears of joy at bay. Vincent has been there for Emma ever since they met at work and it has been the most beautiful love story ever since; filled with the purest kind of love no one can imagine. Beside me, I feel Kevin’s hand coming to squeeze my shoulder in a reassuring manner and I feel warm all over despite the rush of emotion in my heart. 

The wedding reception is to take place at a fancy restaurant overlooking the harbourfront. Our family has booked the venue for the evening, and as I enter, I take in the baby blue veils that come down each corner of the restaurant, sprinkles of glitter here and there as we make our way to our assigned tables that each have a baby blue napkin shaped in swans. 

I don’t even have time to place my butt down when I hear a voice call out, “Y/N! Look how big you’ve gotten!” 

Of course, big wedding ceremonies only mean that we get to meet all of our extended family that we haven’t seen since forever, and they’re all too happy to chat with me about living overseas. Soon enough, I’m bustled off to a table and look back over my shoulder to mouth a quick “I’m sorry” to Kevin. Bless his soul, for he only smiles and shakes his head, his hand motioning for me to go on.

I manage to catch up with cousins I haven’t seen since I was a little girl, talk over appetizers with excited aunts who want to know all about how it feels like to live away from family for such a long time, and nod along to the old uncles trying to get me to give a concrete answer about when and where will my wedding take place. 

“Come on Y/N! You’re the next one after Emma for sure,” one of my uncles bellow, face flushed red as a result of the glasses of wine he has downed like water. He is Emma’s father, no surprise that he’ll want to get drunk from happiness and pride. It is his daughter’s wedding after all. 

He leans close with a conspiratorial look in his eyes, “so tell me,” his eyes glance over to Kevin, currently deep in conversation with another one of my distant aunts. I watch as he says something to make her laugh, and something inside my chest warms at the action, “is he the lucky guy that’s going to ask for your hand?” 

“Do you think he’s the one?” another uncle pipes up. 

I purse my lips and attempt to shrug, “it’s early days,” I try laughing it off although it sounds forced, “who knows what can happen.” 

“He’s a good kid,” an aunt says, “you know how we all have this sixth sense? Well Y/N, I have a good feeling about this young man. Don’t let him go. Something tells me he’s a keeper.” 

A wild imaginative speculation, considering that we’re not even dating. But I nod along and say that yes, I’ll tell them whenever I decide to tie the knot.

It’s only when the dance floor opens and people start pooling onto the dance floor after the first dance -- led by no other than the bride and groom themselves -- that I finally allow myself to breathe. I find my way back to my chair, back to Kevin’s warm smile flashing in my direction as his eyes take in the fatigue lining my face. 

“You look like you could use a drink,” is the first thing he tells me the moment I plop my butt onto my designed seat, the one that’s been kept cold ever since I stepped foot into the dining hall. 

I gratefully accept the glass of wine he offers me, swallowing it down in a few gulps, “thanks,” I sigh with relief, “I needed that.” 

“How was catching up with family?” 

“It couldn’t be as bad as being left behind,” I peer over at him, guilt flooding me at the prospect of having left him all alone, “sorry. It’s just that everyone--” 

“Oh stop that,” Kevin nudges my shoulder with his, “don’t be sorry. It’s totally normal. I’m happy for you. And I wasn’t left behind. I had a wonderful time talking to your aunt. She seemed so happy to tell me what your childhood was like.”

“Bet you liked that, didn’t you?” 

“Hey, it works as blackmail. Why wouldn’t I like that?” 

“Dork.” 

“You’re friends with this dork.” 

“Oh piss off,” I slap his shoulder playfully in retaliation, causing him to laugh softly as we watch couples glide across the dance floor like swans over water. The lights have dimmed, the yellow hues now replaced by soft cool blues and purples that cause Emma’s dress to shimmer every time she turns. She’s absolutely stunningly beautiful, and the way she and Vincent are gazing at each other just scream of pure love that wraps around them in a golden mist so enchantingly beautiful that I find myself catching my breath in the back of my throat. 

“She’s so beautiful,” the words fall from my mouth without meaning to, and I feel Kevin’s eyes on my face from the corner of my peripheral.

“You are too.” 

I bite my lip and narrow my eyes at him playfully, “thanks, but why do I have a feeling that this isn’t a compliment?” 

“It isn’t,” he holds my gaze, “it’s just the truth.” 

Emotion lodges at the back of my throat. I stare at him. He stares back, a glimmer of tenderness echoing through the dark pools of black, his whole expression relaxed into a face that appears flooded with affection for--

Me. 

For some reason, no words seem to come to me as I open my mouth and close it. Embarrassment slowly bubbles through my stomach. I look away, unable to contain the goosebumps suddenly exploding across the back of my neck with that same familiar uncomfortable sensation I keep getting around him these days. Like I’m standing atop a cliff and preparing myself to jump.

“Wanna dance?” 

I blink in surprise, before turning to the said young man beside me who has his head cocked to the side with that same expression. My heart can’t help but squeeze inside my chest before I push down the rising protest searing through my brain. 

I nod. And off we go onto the dance floor. His hands settle on my waist, mine atop his shoulders in a casual sling. There’s enough distance between our bodies to show that we’re not together and yet, I can’t deny that electrical tension that keeps on pulling me towards Kevin like a magnet. I wonder if he feels it too, that searing heat that is so palpable I can feel sweat break out from the back of my neck. Asking, though, would mean that I’m aware of what’s happening, asking would imply that I want something to happen.

Maybe I do. 

Maybe I do want to grab life by the reins myself and steer it wherever I want it to go. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

I blink. Right up into Kevin’s brown orbs, his hair catching the shades of blue from the disco balls. My throat runs dry. 

“Uh--” my mind tries to scramble for a response, any response, “just--uhm, it’s kind of like our last day here.” 

He cocks his head, “sad?” 

“Kinda. I like it here,” my eyes brush over Emma and Vincent’s forms in the vicinity, catch my grandma sitting at one of the tables, little cousins running all over the place. Then, I look back at the said young man gazing at me with that undecipherable look in his eyes that makes my heart sing, and try not to squirm as I continue softly, “it feels like home.” 

“We can always come back,” he uses ‘we’ as though it’s now an adventure kept between the two of us, a secret to our own little neverland that nobody knows about. I can’t help but smile at the thought. 

“Do you want to come back?” I ask.

“Are you kidding? Hell yeah I want to come back. The views are amazing, the food is out of this world, and your family has been really kind to me.” 

“I’m sorry, they are kind of overbearing when you first get to know them.” 

“I love it,” Kevin says seriously, “I love that they’re overbearing. Couldn’t have asked for anything more.” 

If I had any doubts, the sincerity dripping from his eyes is enough to wipe out any suspicions left from his compliment. The sudden urge to hug him rocks through me and my hands fist on the back of his shirt in response. 

We keep on dancing silently, bobbing from one foot to another for a few minutes more before he speaks up softly. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” 

“I wouldn't mind getting married here.” 

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “really now?” 

“Yup,” he grins, “really.” 

“Your future wife will have me to thank for that.” 

“Maybe my future wife won’t have to thank you.” 

There it is. That same borderline flirting that’s been happening for days on end. 

“And why is that?” I probe, partly just to tease him, and partly because I just want to know.

“Maybe she might be right here, in this room.” 

“Didn’t know you were into one of my cousins,” I start looking around the room, only for one of his hands to cup my cheek to turn my face back to his. 

There is none of that teasing glimmer now. His eyes are darker, gazing down at me with such emotion that the breath catches in the back of my throat and the air halts in my lungs. We gaze at each other for a few beats longer, before I feel his thumb graze my cheek. Gently, so gently like he’d stroke a flower petal. 

Swallowing at the heat of his hand cupping the side of my face, my hands unconsciously tighten on the back of his neck. He senses my nervousness, but only pulls me slightly closer so that we are mere millimeters from each other, noses hovering over each other in a space that causes my heart to stutter inside my chest. 

When he opens his mouth next, his alto is hoarse, pent-up with emotion. 

“I wasn’t talking about your cousins.” 

My heart practically jumps to my throat, teeth biting onto my lip. 

I can’t hear the music, nor the people. I can’t hear anything except for my pounding heart and Kevin’s soft breaths washing over my face. 

His eyes search mine and we hold gazes for a moment too long.

“Y/N?” 

I press my lips together, “Y-Yes?” 

He moves even closer then so that his nose brushes mine in the most intimate of ways. 

“I--” 

“Y/N! I was looking all over for you!” 

We spring apart like we just got burnt just in time for one of my cousins to grab onto my arm. He sends an apologetic smile at Kevin, before explaining, “we just need to sort out the takeaways. She’ll be back in a second!” 

And without listening to my protests, he proceeds to drag me away from the said young man on the dancefloor. I look back, mouthing an ‘I’m sorry” once more -- it’s the second time that night!-- and see the raven-haired man laugh good-naturedly before shaking his head and waving me away. That does nothing to keep my heart from cartwheeling out of my chest, swelling up with such affection that I grin back despite the earlier predicament. 

One thing’s for sure: I’m not done talking with Kevin Moon yet. 

----------

I find him sitting alone in the tiny garden that overlooks the decorated pavillon a few hours later. His figure, illuminated by the soft yellow hues of interior light, seems to glow in the dark, the moon bouncing off his hair and catching the strength of his cheekbone when he turns and catches me staring. He only smiles though -- that beautiful tender smile that I keep seeing more and more these days -- before waving me over. 

“What are you doing out here all alone?” I ask as I reach his figure. A soft breeze dances along the back of my spine, cool in contrast to the warm stickiness of the air. 

“Your smaller cousin was showing me what she’d learnt in astronomy at her school,” he tilts his head up at the sky, “she’s quite the prodigy at that.” 

“The next woman to land on the moon,” I joke.

“Jeez, I should get her autograph.” 

“Wise idea,” that’s when I feel his hand slip into mine and I look down at him, blinking. He grins a little shyly, before tugging me forward so that I all but stumble right into him, halfway sprawled across his lap. 

Heat explodes through my chest at the proximity of our bodies and I can’t help but avert my gaze from his, partly embarrassed that maybe there might be someone around to see, and partly because it’s only recently that I’ve started seeing Kevin in a new light that being so close makes my heart choke up and my mind to run blank. 

We’re close. So close I feel his breath mingle with mine. My hands settle atop his chest lightly, “Kev,” I breathe out but nothing follows, too scared to verbally voice out what is going on for fear that it might all crumble into nothing. 

I don’t want false hope. I also don’t want his heart -- or mine -- to break. 

This friendship is too precious to let go. I can’t imagine a life without Kevin in it.

“Listen Y/N,” Kevin’s voice is soft, a hushed murmur resonating through his chest as his eyes search mine, “I think we both know what’s happening here.” 

I nod mutely. 

Taking a shaky breath, he continues, “I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you. I know it’s been tough and that you’re still healing. I just--I just want to know.” 

As his words wash over me as gently as the forest leaves rustling around us, I feel the warmth of his hand cupping my cheek, holding me like I am fine china and stroking my skin with his thumb so that butterflies suddenly rush along my middle.

I bite my lip so hard I can taste blood, " I-- well, I think you already know how I feel."

"I know," he breathes, "but I need to hear it from you."

As if it isn't hard enough to come face to face with my own feelings, having Kevin stare me down as though I put the moon in his sky makes me want to squirm with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. 

“I like you,” I blurt out then, “a lot.” 

There is a few seconds delay, before a shit-- eating grin --the biggest I’ve ever seen -- spreads across Kevin’s face like sunshine peeking through the clouds.

“Enough for us to go on a date?”

I nod mutely. I don’t trust my voice, not right now when I already feel so pathetic. Kevin’s grin softens into a tender smile, one that I can’t help but return when our eyes meet in the most intimate of ways. Suddenly, the air feels charged and alive with electricity, the heat between our bodies palpable as his hand moves to the back of my neck. 

He tugs. I follow. 

His lips find mine mid-way in a delicate kiss. 

It’s soft. Softer than any kiss I’ve ever had. Kevin’s mouth parts over my own in a gentle caress, before he tilts his head to the side and captures my lower lip between his. 

I gasp slightly at the contact, hands unconsciously tightening around his neck. 

Slowly leaning away, I notice the film of lust like a dull glow at the back of his maroon orbs, just the slightest hint that he wants me as a woman. And that makes my lungs constrict, air suddenly halting in the back of my throat.

My skin is prickling with the aftermath of his touch. I let out a soft breath before he covers my mouth with his once more and all thoughts fly out of my brain the moment he does. 

I don’t really know how long we spend outside, exchanging the softest of kisses underneath the moonlight, until I hear the soft exclamations of my family’s voices suggesting that it is time to head home. So I part from the said man and can’t help but blush at the lack of space between our bodies.

“We should probably head back,” I hate how wanton I sound, like I’ve just sprinted a mile when in truth I’ve been sitting in this very spot for the last hour.

He agrees and I descend from his lap, his hand subtly finding mine as we walk back to the wedding hall. 

Emma is still saying her goodbyes, her hair now dotted with glitter, probably from the decorations that my younger cousins took pleasure in bathing her in. Her face lights up as soon as she spots our entwined hands and I try not to meet her eyes for I know exactly the kind of smug look she'll be giving me. 

"Enjoyed the wedding?" She says as soon as we're within earshot.

"That must've been the best cake I've had in my life," Kevin lets out a dramatic sigh, "and that says something."

"Do I trust your taste buds though?" She teases.

"I'd be offended if you didn't," he gasped in mock offense, before they both break into playful chuckles.

As we exchange our goodbyes and Vincent engages Kevin in a conversation, Emma takes this chance to drag me to her side as she whispers, "so you gonna tell me the tea or am I going to have to extract it from you?"

I press my lips together as I try to control the heat searing through the back of my neck, "...we kissed."

She gasps, "No way! OH MY GOD! Are you guys a thing then?!" The answer is as clear as water on my face and she clamps a hand over her mouth, would've jumped up and down if she could've, "OH MY, OH MY GOD. I knew it! I just knew this was going to happen--"

"Shut up!" I hiss, scared that Kevin might overhear and think I'm a big fat tattle tale. My eyes quickly swivel over to his and I'm glad to find his head bent towards Vincent in concentration. 

"You need to tell me everything," Emma's eyes are sparkling, "like--as soon as you have some free time."

"You--" I send her a pointed look, then jerk my head at Vincent, "--need to tell me everything."

"Oh I will, don't worry."

"Anyway, I'll talk to you after your honeymoon."

"Okay," I turn around to find Kevin, not failing to notice the smirk playing on Emma's lips. I slap her arm in response, causing her to laugh before she calls out: 

"Don't forget to use protection!"

-----------

"We'll come back right?"

That's the first thing that Kevin states as soon as we step inside security, away from the tears of my family that I just left behind a few seconds ago. My heart still aches when I think of their faces, all crumpled and blinking at me with tissues in hand and noses as red as traffic lights. But I seek comfort upon feeling Kevin's hand slip through mine as we walk towards our destined gate. 

"Sure," I look at him; at his red-tinted cheeks (probably the aftermath of a sunburn), his newly tanned skin a fresh contrast against his white shirt, and the permanent grin that seems impossible to wipe off his face. My heart instantly flutters.

It's only been a few days since we've confessed our growing romantic interest in each other, but I can already feel the weight of his love pouring out of his heart and into mine the moment he realized that my arms would be there to catch him when he fell.

"I'm not going to wake up to an empty bed tomorrow morning, am I?" He’d joked when we stumbled, half-asleep, into Emma's flat after the wedding. 

I frowned at him, "Why would you think that?"

"Just in case you think that kissing me was a mistake."

A small pause ensued, in which I realized that despite all my fears and all the pain I had been carrying in my heart ever since we landed on my motherland, I had not once considered how Kevin might be feeling at this very moment. 

My eyes quickly took note of his countenance, sweeping right up to his face only to notice the flash of vulnerability in his eyes, the way the corners of his mouth were tense, cheekbones taught against his skin as he awaited for my answer with baited breath. 

Clearing my throat, I whispered, "it wasn't."

A soft smile tugged at his lips, "good to know."

His answer seemed so genuine, so wholehearted that my chest tightened in a mixture of gratefulness and affection, so much so that my arms automatically reached for him to tug him close. My nose found its rightful place at his neck and I breathed in his comforting  lilac smell that I enjoyed so much.

I felt him take a breath. Then, softly, a hand caressed the back of my head. I buried even closer if that was possible.

"I really want this to work," my words were a muffled mess and I was surprised that he understood.

"Me too," he murmured into my hair, "and it will work. I promise I won't break your heart Y/N."

Looking back now at this tender moment in which we both weren't certain of where we were stepping, I can't help but laugh at the thought, for now the love and attraction is so natural I'm amazed it has taken this long to flourish. 

Maybe I hadn't been looking the right way. Maybe I had been searching so far out and wide that I hadn't noticed that my safe harbour is the one standing right beside me.

"Hey Kevin," I call out.

Kevin turns towards me, where he'd been watching planes take off from the ground into the gorgeously blue sunny sky.

"Yeah?" 

“I’m really glad you came.” 

There's a few beats of silence although his mouth immediately cracks into that gorgeous, crooked grin of his that I adore so much. 

“Me too.” 

----

[perseusannabeth]

Don’t Look (Okay Maybe Just a Little Peek) - Part 3

A/N: So this is based off a prompt I received in my inbox, “dance with me” for Nessian. I decided to write it for day 1 of NaNoWriMo, so I haven’t really proof read this super well. 

Read on ao3

Read on tumblr, part 1, part 2

Word count: 1960

Nesta was in a good mood. She had the day off work, and she was home alone. She had just finished reading a book which had a really cute ending, and it had left her feeling happy and light. She also supposed that Cassian also had something to do with her good mood, as much as she was loathed to admit it to anyone, especially Cassian.  

Things had changed between Cassian and Nesta. It had been just over a week since that disastrous day he had walked in on her in the shower, but somehow miraculously, things had taken a turn for the better. Nesta still couldn't quite believe that Cassian was interested in her, that he had asked her on a date, but then she would catch the way he looked at her from the corner of her eye and realise that no, it was true. She still couldn't quite believe that he was looking like that. It seemed so out of the blue, except, he did flirt with her a lot. She had assumed he was joking but he had just been too scared to ask her on a date. He had said he used to practice in the mirror! 

She didn't want to admit it, but the thought of Cassian practising how to ask her on a date like some sort of love-struck teenager made her laugh. It also made her feel warm and fuzzy, something that Nesta Archeron was not well known for. It was really sweet and cute, which was not a way that she thought she would ever end up describing Cassian. But the more she got to know Cassian, she realised that she didn't really know him at all until she started living with him. She had known Cassian before, obviously, otherwise, she wouldn't have agreed to live with him. But before living with him she had never seen the way he was a morning person, and how he loved to cook, and how he likes soft things so his flat is full of fluffy blankets and soft pillows.  

Thinking about Cassian did give her a warm fuzzy feeling, and she wasn't quite sure what to do about it. It was strange. She had never felt anything like this, certainly not as strong as this. She had never thought she would feel this way, especially after Tomas. She had known, somewhere in the back of her mind that she had some sort of feelings for Cassian, but she had ignored them. Dealing with something like that is too dangerous after Tomas.  

Cassian always seemed to force her out of her comfort zone, and this was no different. She now couldn't ignore her feelings, which was something she was comfortable doing. However, despite the uncomfortable feeling, and the slight anxiety, seeing Cassian so happy about agreeing to go on a date with him seemed to calm the anxiety. The goofy smile on his face was all she needed to think of to calm herself when thinking about her possible feelings towards him.  

But right now, she was thinking about the goofy look on Cassian's dumb face, while listening to the High School Musical 2 soundtrack and cleaning the kitchen. She had a red velvet cake in the oven because after she had finished reading she felt like baking. She was in her pyjamas still, with no bra on because why would she put her boobs in their jail on her day off?  

Nesta couldn't quite help herself as she started singing along with Bet On It, which always pumped her up. Plus, the High School Musical 2 soundtrack was brilliant, and she very rarely got to enjoy it blasting from the speakers because she was always too worried that Cassian would find out and laugh at her. But right now, even the idea of Cassian laughing at her couldn't bring her down.  

She finished filling the dishwasher up as What Time Is It? Came on shuffle, and Nesta couldn't even stop herself from dancing along to it as she cleaned the surfaces. She eventually just gave up even pretending that she was going to carry on cleaning, and dropped the spray and cloth, allowing herself to dance properly.  

She was having so much fun dancing, that she didn't hear the front door open, and she didn't notice Cassian leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, just watching Nesta with a look of awe on his face. Nesta turned around, and let out a little scream, not expecting Cassian to be stood there. She clutched her chest as she tried to calm down her heart rate, and turned the music down.  

"I wasn't expecting you to be home at," she glanced at her phone to check the time, "3 pm. How long have you been stood there?" She asked, almost hesitantly, bracing herself for the rude comments about how she's a child or laughing at her, or the number of other ways Tomas might have reacted. She could feel herself tensing up, as though she was about to receive a blow. With Tomas, she probably would've received a blow. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that Cassian would never do that, but her instincts sometimes took over her body before her mind could talk her out of it.  

Cassian looked at her in that way of his, where she knew he was assessing the situation, what she was doing and how she was acting. She had always hated it, but before, it had made her angry, today, the anger made way for a new feeling. Today, she felt seen, like he could tell what was going on in her brain. It was unnerving, and she felt naked. She hated the way Cassian could just look at her and read her emotions when she tried so hard to keep those walls up.  

"I've not been home that long, don't worry." Cassian paused for a second, and then gave her a soft smile, that Nesta hated because it made her feel all weird and fluttery in her stomach. "I'm glad you've been having fun today. You deserve it."  

Nesta felt her cheeks heat at that. Somehow, his sincere and heartfelt comments always made her blush much easier than his dirty ones did. Maybe it was because he always made the dirty comments and jokes and she had gotten used to it, or maybe it was because she wasn't used to Cassian being so honest with his feelings for her, but she could feel her face heating.  

"Thanks, I've just had a nice day I guess," Nesta said with a shrug, trying to regain her calm and collected demeanour, but she knew she was failing. Thankfully, Cassian didn't comment on it and just smiled at her.  

"What have you been baking?" Cassian asked, his eyes lighting up as he noticed the cake in the oven. He raised his nose into the air, sniffing like a dog trying to figure out what she had put in the oven. 

Nesta raised her eyebrows, trying to look unimpressed. "It's a red velvet cake because I was craving one."  

Cassian's eyes went wide with excitement, as he rubbed his stomach. "Gods, I love red velvet cake," he said, closing his eyes and licking his lips thinking about the cake.  

Nesta couldn't help but track the movement of his tongue on his luscious looking lips. Suddenly she couldn't think properly, she couldn't think of anything but Cassian's lips. Cassian, noticing the silence, opened his eyes, and grinned when he realised where Nesta's gaze had been fixed.  

Before Cassian could open his mouth to say anything stupid that would annoy or embarrass Nesta, she put her music back up. Her Spotify had now started playing You Are The Music In Me. Nesta decided to throw all caution to the wind, and ask, "Dance with me?" 

She looked up at Cassian, trying not to let it show on her face how nervous she now was. Cassian's face went slack, almost exactly like it had when he had seen her in the shower. Nesta started pulling her hand away, but Cassian grabbed onto it and used it to pull her closer. Another soft smile covered his face as he looked down at her as they started swaying.  

"I didn't know you were a High School Musical fan." 

"It's the greatest film of our generation. Also, which kid didn't have a crush on Zac Efron?" 

Cassian let out a booming laugh. "That's valid I suppose, although I was more of a Camp Rock fan myself. I mean, have you seen those Jonas brothers?" 

Nesta froze in his arms,  glaring up at him. "Camp rock was good, but I can't believe you're saying it's better than High School Musical. I'm not sure I can go on a date with someone who thinks like that. Or even live with them. I might have to move out."  

Nesta couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she felt Cassian's grip tighten as she tried to move away. She looked up at his dumb face to see that he was pouting.  

"I'm sorry I have terrible taste in terrible films, please don't leave me for it." 

Nesta was quiet, staring, at his lips again, so big and pouty. Cassian realised once again what her eyes were focused on, and went quiet, his eyes dilating as he took in Nesta, and how close she was to him. Cassian's chest was definitely moving faster than it usually was, and Nesta could tell it wasn't from their terrible attempt at dancing to High School Musical. It sent a thrill down Nesta's spine, the fact that she had this kind of effect on Cassian. She pressed her body against his, still swaying to the music, although Cassian seemed to be just following her lead. She wasn't entirely sure he even knew what he was doing, he seemed too lost looking at Nesta.  

Cassian's breath hitched as Nesta pressed herself against him. He broke his gaze from her lips to look down at their connected bodies, noticing the way her boobs pressed against his chest, her hips pressing dangerously close to his. She knew if she shifted a little, she might even feel the hard outline of his dick, pressing against his trousers, but didn't dare push things that far.  

She tilted her head up, not sure if she wanted to kiss him, but knew she wanted her face closer to him. Cassian was frozen now, his chest wasn't moving at all. She wasn't entirely sure if he was even breathing. 

Perhaps it was a good thing, but she couldn't help but curse internally as the timer went off to let her know the cake needed to come out of the oven. It startled her enough that she quickly pulled back from Cassian, flushing as she did. She tried to distract herself with the cake, but she could feel Cassian's eyes on her.  

"I'll leave you to it," Cassian rasped out. Nesta couldn't help but feel a little proud, knowing that was because of her.  

She turned around and smiled, trying to will the blush on her cheeks to calm down. "Do you want me to call you when the cake is done?" 

"Nah it's fine, I'll have my slice after dinner. I'll cook since you made dessert." He winked, and then quickly scuttled off to his room. 

Nesta bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to smile too much when she noticed the strange way that Cassian walked, and realised that perhaps she had a bigger effect on Cassian than she had ever realised. She decided that she quite enjoyed having that kind of an effect on Cassian. 

Tags list (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from this list! Bolded tags don’t work for some reason)

@hizqueen4life @kelly-fasel @sannelovesreading @acourtofmarauders @maastrash @sjm-things @bookstantrash @cursebreaker29 @humanexile @iammissstark @stardelia @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @cass-nes @thewayshedreamed @queenestarcheron @sayosdreams @illyrianshadowhunter @blood-dreams

[pretend-writer]

Kids Of The Future (Chapter 3)

(gif cred: @beth-cassidy)

Mini-Series

Summary: After time traveling from the apocalypse in 2019, a surprise waits for Diego and Y/N as they arrive at Dallas, Texas circa 1960.

Pairing: Hargreeves x sibling!reader, Diego Hargreeves x reader

Word Count: 2.2k words

Warning: mention of violence, mention of sex

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

A few weeks passed by and we find Vanya, shopping at our local store with a lady and a boy. I tried waving at her but she gave me a weird look instead.

Eventually down the line, we found out that she had amnesia. She'd had gotten hit by a car, losing her memory which made her not recognize me at all.

We then found Luther at a bar, Diego and I happened to find him there one night when we had one of our friends from the Karate Dojo babysit Belinda. We were having our little date night and of course, they ruin a heartwarming reunion by bickering like a married couple despite not seeing each other for three years.

Five appeared out out of nowhere; as usual. He said he had been trying to find us for years. I'd say he did a shitty job considering that Diego and I found everyone else first except for Klaus. Our favorite cult leader reunited with Allison before any of us found each other.

'How did you manage to drop us off at different timelines?' Allison placed her finger on her temple, trying to make sense in all of this.

'Better question; Why did you two decide to make this love ring?' Luther joked, looking around the Karate Gym. He was the curious one that wanted to see what our Dojo looked like and he was here to make fun of it. Great.

'Okay, Bartender shut it.' Diego hissed at Luther. I never understood how they could go back to arguing even after years of being apart.

Five rolled his eyes, 'Anyways. Now that I've finally found you guys, I-'

'I found you actually.' I commented, grinning as I corrected Five.

'Okay fine! You found me, you genius of a sister. Why don't you find us a way to get back to 2019 then?'

'Three years apart and you're still a dick.' I flicked Five in the forehead.

Klaus laughed, clapping his hands. 'Ahaha, Good one Y/N!'

Vanya looked around the room as everyone else joined Klaus for a laugh. With a confused look on her face, she raised her hand. 'Can I ask a question?'

'Does it involve us getting back home?' Five asked.

'No.'

Five sighed, 'What?'

'We are siblings right?' Vanya scratched her head, looking directly at me as if she was judging me. I could tell what she was implying, causing me to blush a little.

'Okay, for your information, we aren't biologically related. We didn't even have time to act as siblings, Reginald made sure we didn't have a life.' Diego defended himself, squinting his eyes at Vanya.

'But still.' Klaus commented.

'Luther, Allison, don't act like this doesn't involve you guys too.' I practically threw them under the bus, I hated being the center of attention.

'You two have a kid together- a kid!' Luther face palmed, shaking his head.

'It's not our child!' Diego and I said in sync, we should've definitely braced for these comments before this family meeting.

Vanya cocked her head, 'Why did you guys name her Belinda?'

'Wow, more questions.' Five said sarcastically.

Biting my lip, I tried to ease my nerves. I was a little shy about talking to my child in front of my siblings. 'Uhm, her nickname is Bel and I thought it'd be right to make her name similar to Ben. A bit cheesy yeah but I really miss him and it's a cute name so.'

Allison and Vanya awed, Klaus making a sour face as he turned around to face no one. Perhaps talking to his ghost friend that he always argued with.

'What? What are you so butthurt about Klaus?'

Quickly turning back around, he flashed a fake smile. 'Nothing, nothing. So lovely you two. Congrats on the real fake kid you two had.'

Diego scratches his head and continued, making a joke. 'Anymore questions before we end this interview?'

Klaus raised his hand, 'Are you and Y/N not going to date? I mean you guys are raising a child together right? And I'm sure a lot happens behind closed doors with you two. It's no secret the tensio-'

'Okay, interview over.' I grinned and turned to Five. 'I sort of have an idea of a way to get to 2019.'

'What would that be?'

'The briefcase. I ca-'

Five chuckled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. 'There's no "I can", Y/N. We're going to get caught because I'm the only one who know the way around The Commission.'

'Let me help, Five. I don't wanna sit around and wait.'

'Well, you have no choice because you're going to have to! I'll set up a trap for The Handler to come, figure out a way for her to come find me. You guys just stay put.'

'You're letting me help, Five.' I stood up and walked toward my small-but-sort-of-older brother. 'My baby may be in danger so now I need to come with you to help you take down The Handler.'

'Are you crazy, stupid or all of the above? This has nothing to do with you and Diego's love child!'

'It has everything to do with her!' I yelled back, 'Diego and I are involved in this crazy bitch's business, now so is Bel and I have to protect her. So let me help you.'

'So you can be a burden? I don't think so.'

'Fi-' before I was able to get another word out of my mouth, Five disappeared; Just how he did every time he was annoyed with an argument. Typical.

Vanya's eyes widened, 'Wow. This family is a little overwhelming.'

'Tell me about it.' Klaus sighed, 'Who wants to get wasted?'

'I'm in!' Allison grinned and eyed the rest of us.

Diego shook his head. 'No, no, no. You know I don't put poison into my body.'

'Come on, I've been stuck here thinking I didn't have a family. The least we can do is keep each other company.' Vanya smiled sweetly. It was so hard to process the sweet Vanya that we knew nearly destroyed the whole planet. Well, she technically did.

'The last time I drank, I-' Luther paused, his face turning red from having a flashback. 'Yeah, no I'm not drinking.'

'Popped your cherry right? We all knew that.' Klaus nudged his brother on his arm, 'Drinks on me! I already have loads to share. Y/N?'

On one hand, I was worried about what might happen to us. Not going back to our timeline scared me a little and I didn't want anything bad happening to Five. But right now, I wanted to forget it for just a moment.

'Spending quality family time? I can't say no to that.' I smiled as Allison, Klaus and Vanya cheered.

Diego leaned over to me with an anxious look on his face. 'Shouldn't we check on Bel?'

'Sarah said she'll look after her. Bel will be fine.'

Diego pov;

I sat on the corner as I watched everyone drinking and dancing in the middle of Allison's salon. Klaus brought so many drinks back and honestly, I was in shock. I couldn't believe Klaus was drinking again, didn't even realize how much he used to drank until now.

Y/N was surprising me as well, given the fact that I've never seen this side of her before. After all of us decided to move out of dad's mansion, we went our separate ways.

Even when we kept in touch every now and then with phone calls, it wasn't like we talked about our nightlife and love life. We simply told each other we were doing good and updated on where we were in our lives. Little did I know Y/N was quite the life of the party.

'Come on, Diego! Come dance with us.' Y/N cheesed, inviting me to come join her and the rest of them.

It was cute seeing her drunk and careless, she was constantly stressed and headstrong about everything around her. Never taking a break or relaxed for that matter, in a way I was glad she had this moment to be free for the night.

'I'm sitting this one out.' I smiled as Y/N pouted, tugging on both my hands, trying to get me to get off of this stool.

'Don't be a party pooper.' Luther gestured to come, 'Gotta let loose brother.'

'See, even Luther agrees.' Klaus laughed.

'Fine, fine.' I rolled my eyes and took Y/N's hand as she pulled me into the middle of the floor. The way she was swaying back and forth, I could tell the alcohol was definitely taking control.

Everyone continued to dance, quite sloppy as they were all drunk from Klaus' alcohol. As Y/N try to twirl, she tripped a little, gasping and giggling to herself.

Grabbing onto her, I furrow my eyebrows. 'Looks like someone drank a little too much.'

'Eh, I'll be fine.'

'Let's just sit for a bit.' I helped her sit down on one of the stools, she didn't fight back and maybe Y/N knew she had to rest also.

'Why are you so sweet to me?'

'Because I care about you.' I smiled at her, enjoying the different, drunk side of Y/N.

She stared at me, her eyes said something but I couldn't quite grasp what she really wanted to tell me.

'What are we doing, Diego?' Y/N scratched her head, chuckled to herself. 'Why do you do all these things with me? All these years... why?'

This had probably been the first time Y/N had been honest with her feelings. Even when we were little kids, she would never talk about herself.

I would never talk about myself either, leaving us to hide our feelings for so long. Despite the two of us having casual sex every now and then, I wasn't fully sure of how Y/N felt about me.

'Just trying to pass by time. You know, taking care of Bel and making sure we get back home with our family.' I bit my tongue, realizing I wasn't being honest with her. Beating around the bush was my forte, It was hard speaking the real truth especially to someone like Y/N. I didn't want to scare her off with how I genuinely felt and lose her.

'Ah, for a second I thought I actually meant something to you. Silly me.'

Y/N said so casually, I didn't think she intentionally said those words either. The alcohol in her system made her blurt out the truth, this time I knew she wasn't lying to me.

Growing up, I knew Y/N and I had special connection. Sneaking around every now and then behind Reginald's back, sharing gifts to one another since our loving father didn't do shit for us. She was someone I appreciated and I knew she was grateful for me too. Never would of thought that those feelings were something far more than friendship.

Y/N's pov;

Biting my bottom lip, I immediately regretted saying what I said. I've never in my life confided to anyone, the one time I did it had to be about my feelings. To the person I loved for a long time.

Just for him to tell me that we were doing what we were supposed to do solely for business.

I was embarrassed, trying so hard to keep my tears in. It was hard since the liquor I shoved down my throat was making my emotions bounce all over the place. Hopefully, Diego would think that it was all drunk talk and not my honest feelings about him.

'I'm going to get some fresh air.' I got off my seat, trying to play it off. Or at least I thought I did.

Diego quickly responded back, 'I'll come with you.'

'No, I want to be alone if that's okay?'

He nodded slowly before I walked through the back door into an alley. A part of me wished Diego came after me but that was just some stupid fairytale bullshit that ran through my mind. Besides, it was clear he didn't feel the same way.

'Just the person I want to see.' The voice startled me, not expecting anyone at this dark alley in the middle of the night. 'Hi, Y/N.'

'Uhm, who are you?' The complete stranger that popped out of nowhere made me completely forget about what just happened, maybe in a way it was a great distraction. Unless they were here to kill me.

'Your brother likes to call me crazy bitch, but I personally thought we were BFFs. Shocking.'

I stared at her, the way she looked didn't ring a bells. 'You're going to have to be more specific than that, miss.'

'The little one, Five's friend.' She smiled, I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or polite.

'Ah, you're The Handler?'

'Sure.' She smiled again, that same expression on her face that seems sincere yet deceiving. It was hard to tell but hearing stories from Five, maybe I couldn't fully trust her.

'Well, you must be mistaken because I'm not sure why you want to see me. If you're looking for Five, I don't-'

'No, I need to see you Y/N Hargreeves.' The Handler pulled out her cigar, this time with a smirk on her face. 'I have a proposition for you.'

[carriagelamp]

I read more books this month than I anticipated. I should probably wait before doing a February book round up, but I already feel like I’m struggling to decide which ones to cut from my list so I’m doing it this weekend instead of next. If I read much next week I’ll bump ‘em up into March’s round up

Asterix and the Missing Scroll / Chieftain’s Daughter

I got the last two “new” Asterix books out of the library so I could officially say I had read them all. Over all my opinion is… they’re fine! None of these would ever become one of my favourites, but they’re all fine stories. The art is good, it is completely in-line with the original, and the stories are… fine. I liked The Missing Scroll quite a bit more than The Chieftain’s Daughter but I never find a ~hurr hurr teenagers~ plotline that interesting, whereas I do enjoy seeing Romans get chased down by unicorns so that’s probably not surprising. There’s some spark I can’t put my finger on that the new Asterix books just seem to be missing though… a bit of humour or cleverness or something. Still, they’re fine reads if you’ve been hungry for more Asterix and I’m glad I read them. (Though the library gave me the American translation of The Chieftain’s Daughter, something I didn’t realize until I started reading and realized that this is wrong??? I’ve been reading these books since I could read and I know this is wrong??? What the hell is happening??? The I realized the publisher was different and I simmered in fury the whole time I read it — WHY ARE YOU CHANGING NAMES AND WORD CHOICES IN A WELL ESTABLISHED SERIES THAT ALREADY HAS AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION YOU ANIMALS WHY ARE YOU DUMBING DOWN THE LANGUAGE AAAUGH

The Bride Was A Boy

This one was cute! The Bride Was A Boy is an autobiographical manga written by a transwoman recounting her experience with transitioning, meeting her boyfriend, and eventually getting married. It’s mostly done in a 4-panel style and is interspersed with lots of information about the LGBT community, particularly in Japan. A lot of it was stuff I was already familiar with, but I still found it adorable and a very worthwhile read. it would be a fantastic book for young queer people who are looking for more of an introduction into international queer space

Cul de Sac: Children At Play

Cul de Sac is just a weird, fun newspaper comic series about the children who live in a small neighbourhood. It fully taps into the children-as-semi-feral-chaos-agents, and there’s something hilariously nostalgic about the whole thing. Lots of times when stories try to portray children there’s always something… wrong about it, something that doesn’t mesh with true childhood, but in this comic I can see glimpses of my grimy, dirty-covered self as a preschooler running around the pages. I would definitely recommend trying them!

The Cremation of Sam McGee

I reread The Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan McGrew and man, they don’t stop being buckwild. These are two really famous Canadian poems that were then illustrated by equally famous Canadian artist Ted Harrison. Harrison’s style is gorgeous and distinct and given what strangely grisly stories these poems are they fit the mood perfectly. Everything feels just a little tilted and wrong and unsettling. If you enjoy an occasional poem (especially ones that are super fun to read out loud) and haven’t read these before, I would recommend them! Or do what my teachers did, and read Sam Gee to a young child in your life and watch them be baffled and concerned and horrified.

There are strange things done / in the midnight sun / by the men who moil for gold...

The Gryphon’s Lair

The second book of the Royal Guide to Monster Slaying series written by Kelley Armstrong; I’ve been eagerly awaiting this book! It’s a very cool fantasy series because it really leans into environmental stewardship and the importance of studying animals and conservation so you can find ways to live alongside a healthy ecosystem. In this book Rowan is officially accepted as the Royal Monster Hunter, which means a whole new set of trials and burdens. She has to contend with a baby gryphon that is becoming increasingly large and dangerous, plotting family members, doubt about her abilities, a potential curse, and a daunting quest deep into the mountains in order to set things right. If you’re looking for some very gentle high fantasy, this series delivers.

Hogan’s Heroes comics

What to say here. Anyone following this blog has suffered the knowledge that I’ve been rewatching Hogan’s Heroes lately. When I found out that there was a short-lived, shitty comic series in the 60s? Of course I had to hunt them down. And so I’ve read them! And they sure were a shitty comic series from the 60s! They were, shall we say, of wildly varying quality. Some were actually really funny (like #5, it easily had the best art and best jokes imho), others were a slog, and most were fine and amusing enough to read the whole way through but not much more.

If you don’t know what Hogan’s Heroes is about: it was a 1960s sitcom that took place in a WWII POW camp, in which the Allied prisoners trapped there had a massive, complex sabotage/spy ring right underneath the camp. The whole show is about constantly outwitting the bumbling Germans while keeping up the pretense that they’re all just normal prisoners. The show is hilariously funny and I would recommend that, even if I can’t say the same for the comics unless you’re like me and are just really thirsty for more content...

Magic Misfits: The Fourth Suit (Ripley)

The final book of Neil Patrick Harris’ middle grade series, The Magic Misfits. In this fourth book, the group is fragmented and forced to meet in secret to avoid notice from the mysterious and powerful Kalagan whose cruel machinations have already turned the quiet little town on its ears, putting people’s lives in peril and destroy Leila’s fathers’ magic shop. The Misfits are going to need all their skills to finally unmask this sinister magician and break the mesmerism he seems to have placed over the entire town before it’s too late to save no only the town, but their friendship and trust.

Super charming series, and the illustrations are gorgeous.

Marsupilami

HOUBA! I watched a very bad TV adaptation of this as a kid that still managed to find a place in my heart, and so I decided to finally try reading some of the original comic! On one hand: it was exactly what I had hoped! The art is cute, the marsupilami is so dynamic and fun to see on the page (and has a way better characterization than he does in the show), and it’s really funny! Unfortunately! It is also pretty racist! Yikes! That seems to be a reoccuring downfall for some of these older Belgian comics... I also tried reading the first book of Les Tuniques Bleues and aye ye ye… I couldn’t actually get through that one. That being said, these were older volumes and frankly, North American media was also real fucking racist at that point so I’m not gonna write them off either. I really liked most of this book, and will probably try to get my hands on one of the more recent volumes of both Marsupilami and Les Tuniques Bleues to see if they get better with time. (If you’ve read either of those series and have volume recommendations hmu)

The Pagemaster

I’m a sucker for novelizations, I have no excuse beyond that. I recently rewatched The Pagemaster and decided to read the chapter book. And it was a solid little adaptation! It’s about Richard Tyler, a young boy with a head for statistics which unfortunately means he lives in constant fear of (in his opinion, statistically likely) injury or death. However that fear is put to the test when he gets caught in a horrible thunderstorm and has to shelter in a nearby library with halls and shelves that stretch beyond the imagination and with untold perils hidden among the pages of the books. Richard, with only his library card and three novels that hope to be checked out, has to venture through the different genres and horrors housed int he library if he ever wants to find the exit and get home to safety.

Pumpkinheads

A very charming little graphic novel. Cute art, and really loveable characters. Josiah and Deja work every year at a local pumpkin patch, and are best friends during those weeks. However this is their last year working there before going off to university and as the last day at the patch comes to a close they realize that they both still have regrets. Deja sets off on a mission to avoid work, eat all the interesting snacks around the patch, and get Josiah to find the girl he’s been crushing on every year and has never worked up the nerve to talk to.

After being deprived of human contact for almost a year, this book really hits you right in the heart.

The Screwfly Solution

A deeply upsetting scifi/horror short story! I read it on the recommendation of a friend and, yes, can confirm that this fucked me up a bit. I honestly don’t even know what to say about this that wouldn’t spoil it, but frankly with everything being as it is, this hit a little bit too close to reality. (That being said, it was very well written, like this is a very good story on a literary level and it does exactly what it sets out to accomplish.) If you feel like reading twenty pages and being really disturbed, give it a go! Otherwise go and read any number of the much happier books on this list!

The Whipping Boy

This was a book I remember reading as a lit circle book back in elementary school and really loving. After telling myself I’d reread it for years, I finally sat down with it again. If you somehow got through school without reading this one, it’s about a brat of a prince and his whipping boy — since it would be unspeakable to strike a prince, when the prince misbehaves it is Jemmy who gets whipped. Unsurprisingly, there is no love lost between the two of them, because the prince is always intentionally causing problems that Jemmy has to suffer for. Things begin to change though when the prince decides to run away and drags Jemmy along with him. On the run, being chased by highwaymen, and desperately trying to hide their identities, these boys go on a fast-paced adventure beyond the castle walls. It wasn’t as special as I remembered it being as a kid, but it’s a fine little chapter book.

[industrial-horror]

TRILOGY OF TERROR

On March 4, 1975, a strange announcement appeared on television sets across America. Some ABC affiliate stations had decided not to air a made-for-TV film called “Trilogy of Terror” in its scheduled timeslot. The reason? It was simply too upsetting to be shown when it was supposed to air – they were moving it to a slot three hours later that night.

Other stations aired the movie but made sure to offer a disclaimer that it might be upsetting for young viewers, something that was just not done in those days. It seemed hard to believe that a modestly-budgeted network “Movie of the Week” could upset station managers so much that they would become concerned for their viewer’s welfare, especially since two-thirds of the 90-minute movie was basically forgettable. The anthology film starred Karen Black – who’d recently earned an Oscar nomination for “Five Easy Pieces” – in multiple roles. In the first two parts, she played a seductive teacher and a vengeful twin sister but made little impression on viewers.

The third part, “Amelia,” was different, though. Black played a character hoping to impress her anthropologist boyfriend by giving him a gift of an African “Zuni fetish doll,” a frightening looking wooden warrior with a spear. Alone in her apartment, Black’s character finds that the doll is not what it appears to be. He literally comes to life and tries to kill her. As he stabs and slashes her feet, chases her, and hides behind furniture, the audience is unsure whether Black will defeat her terrifying attacker, lose her sanity – or both.

In the decades since the television movie’s first airing, “Amelia” had become an eerie part of the public consciousness. Viewers who saw it in 1975 – or have watched it since – are unable to forget Black’s battle with the little terror. Before she passed away in 2013, Black said that more fans approached her to talk about her fight with the killer doll than all her other roles combined.

Author Richard Matheson was one of the writers of “Trilogy of Terror.” He had come up with the idea for “Amelia” over a decade earlier when he was working on the “The Twilight Zone.” He had pitched a script called “Devil Doll” to series creator Rod Serling, but the story turned out to be too grim for 1960s broadcast standards. Matheson ended up tweaking the idea slightly and using it for “The Invaders,” which starred Agnes Moorehead, as a woman who is terrorized by a group of tiny sinister aliens.

Years later, Matheson often collaborated with director Dan Curtis – who did the original “The Night Stalker” with Darren McGavin – and they came up with the idea for “Trilogy of Terror” and pitched it to ABC. Writer William F. Nolan scripted the first two segments, based on Matheson stories, and Matheson himself scripted “Amelia,” which was basically the story from the abandoned “Twilight Zone” idea.

Matheson figured that “Amelia” would be the standout segment – and he was right. Over the years, when he went in for meetings at studios, he was often approached by executives who confessed to wetting themselves while watching the film as a child.

The studio and Dan Curtis thought otherwise, though. They felt the stunt casting of Karen Black in all three stories – a total of four roles with the twin’s in the second episode – would be the real hook. Initially, Black was not interested in the part. She only agreed to star when her manager was able to secure a role for her then-husband, Robert Burton.

The filming was not without its problems. The production required the use of three puppets, which were not easy to operate. In interviews, Black said that the crew sometimes had to simply throw the doll at her so that it looked like it was moving. Many times, its head of arms fell off when it was supposed to be running. Working with the little terror was often hilarious, not horrifying, she admitted.

But the viewers didn’t see any of the funny stuff. There was nothing to laugh about in “Amelia.” The final part of the trilogy is mostly silent, with Black’s character being browbeaten by her overbearing mother over the telephone and then trying to calm herself with a shower. Once that doll comes to life, she uses everything she can – an ice pick, a suitcase, even an oven – to fight whatever evil has caused it to attack her. In the closing moments, it’s clear that the doll is not yet finished claiming victims.

Oops, spoiler alert.

“Trilogy of Terror” eventually made it to the home video market in the early 1980s, but before that, kids like me had to wait for it to be repeated on ABC. Luckily, they often brought it back so that we could experience the horror over and over again. It would be the fleeting recollections of how we all had to watch it in the late 1970s that caused the movie to develop a cult following. Even though the Zuni doll came back in 1996 for a sequel, it’s the original film that we all know and love.

But not everyone was so fond of it. Karen Black often complained about the fact that people remembered “Trilogy of Terror” at the expense of the rest of her career. “I wish they said, ‘That wonderful movie you did for Robert Altman,’ but they don’t,” she told an interviewer, “They say, ‘That little doll.’”

[popculty]

52 Films by Women: 2020 Edition

Another annual challenge complete!

Last year, I focused on diversifying my list. This year I kept that intention but focused on watching more non-American films and films from the 20th century. Specifically, I sought out Agnès Varda’s entire filmography, after her death in 2019. (I was not disappointed - What a filmmaking legend we lost.) 

I also kept a film log for the first time and have included some of my thoughts on several films from that log. I made a point of including reviews both positive and negative, because I think it’s important to acknowledge the variability and breadth of the canon, so as not to put every film directed by a woman on a pedestal. (Although movies directed by women must clear a much higher bar to be greenlit, meaning generally higher quality...But that’s an essay for another day :)

* = directed by a woman of color

bold = fave

1. The Rhythm Section (2020) dir. Reed Morano - Not as good as it could have been, given Morano’s proven skill behind the camera, but also not nearly as bad as the critics made it out to be. And unbelievably refreshing to see a female revenge story not driven by sexual assault or the loss of a husband/child.

2. Cléo de 5 à 7 (1962) dir. Agnès Varda - If you ever wanted to take a real-time tour of Paris circa 1960, this is the film for you.

3. Little Women (2019) dir. Greta Gerwig - Still my favorite Little Women adaptation. I will re-watch it every year and cry.

4. Varda by Agnès (2019) dir. Agnès Varda & Didier Rouget

5. Booksmart (2019) dir. Olivia Wilde - An instant classic high school comedy romp that subverts all the gross tropes of its 1980s predecessors.

6. Girls of the Sun (2018) dir. Eva Husson

7. Blue My Mind (2017) dir. Lisa Brühlmann

8. Portrait of a Lady On Fire (2019) dir. Céline Sciamma - Believe the hype. This film is a master thesis on the female gaze, and also just really effing gorgeous.

9. Belle Epine (2010) dir. Rebecca Zlotowski

10. Vamps (2012) dir. Amy Heckerling - With Krysten Ritter and Alicia Silverstone as modern-day vampires, I was so ready for this movie. But it feels like a bad stage play or a sit-com that’s missing a laugh-track. Bummer.

11. *Birds of Prey (2020) dir. Cathy Yan - Where has this movie been all our lives?? Skip the next onslaught of Snyder-verse grim-darkery and give me two more of these STAT! 

12. She’s Missing (2019) dir. Alexandra McGuinness

13. The Mustang (2019) dir. Laure de Clermont-Tonnere - Trigger warning for the “protagonist” repeatedly punching a horse in the chest. I noped right out of there.

14. Monster (2003) dir. Patty Jenkins – I first watched this movie when I was probably too young and haven’t revisited it since. The rape scene traumatized me as a kid, but as an adult I appreciate how that trauma is not the center of the movie, or even of Aileen’s life. Everyone still talks about how Charlize “went ugly” for this role, but the biggest transformation here isn’t aesthetic, it’s physical – the way Theron replicates Wuernos’ mannerisms, way of speaking, and physicality. That’s why she won the Oscar. I also love that Jenkins calls the film “Monster” (which everyone labels Aileen), but then actually uses it to tell the story of how she fell in love with a woman when she was at her lowest, and that saved her. That’s kind of beautiful, and I’m glad I re-watched it so that I could see the story in that light, instead of the general memory I had of it being a good, feel-bad movie. It’s so much more than that.

15. Water Lilies (2007) dir. Céline Sciamma – Sciamma’s screenwriting and directorial debut, the first in her trilogy on youth, is as painfully beautiful as its sequels (Tomboy and Girlhood). It’s also one of the rare films that explores the overlap of queerness and girl friendships.

16. The Trouble with Angels (1966) dir. Ida Lupino – Movies about shenanigan-based female friendships are such rare delights. Rosalind Russel is divine as Mother Superior, and Hayley Mills as “scathingly brilliant” as the pranks she plays on her. Ida Lupino’s skill as an editor only enhances her directing, providing some truly iconic visual gags to complement dialogue snappy enough for Gilmore Girls. 

17. Vagabond (1985) dir. Agnès Varda – Shot with a haunting realism, this film has no qualms about its heroine’s inevitable, unceremonious death, which it opens with, matter-of-factly, before retracing her final (literal) steps to the road-side ditch she ends up in. (I’m partly convinced said heroine was the inspiration for Sarah Manning in Orphan Black.)

18. One Sings, The Other Doesn’t (1977) dir. Agnès Varda – Probably my favorite classic Varda, this film feels incredibly personal. It’s essentially a love story about two best friends with very different lives. For an indie made in the ‘70s, the diversity, scope, and themes of the film are impressive. Even if the second half a drags a bit, the first half is absolute perfection, engaging the viewer immediately, and clipping along, sprinkling in some great original songs that were way progressive for their time (about abortion, female bodily autonomy, etc) and could still be considered “bangers” today.

19. Emma (2020) dir. Autumn de Wilde

20. Black Panthers (1969) dir. Agnès Varda

21. Into the Forest (2016) dir. Patricia Rozema - When the world was ending (i.e. the pandemic hit) this was the first movie I turned to - a quiet, meditative story of two sisters (Elliot Page and Evan Rachel Wood) surviving off the land after a sudden global blackout. Four years later, it’s still one of my favorite book-to-screen adaptations. I fondly remember speaking with director Patricia Rozema at the 2016 Chicago Critics Film Festival after a screening, her love for the source material and desire to “get it right” so apparent. I assured her then, and reaffirm now, that she really did.

22. City of Trees (2019) dir. Alexandra Swarens

23. Never Rarely Sometimes Always (2020) dir. Eliza Hittmann - To call this a harrowing and deeply personal journey of a sixteen-year-old who must cross state lines to get an abortion would be accurate, but incomplete. It is a story so much bigger than that, about the myriad ways women’s bodies and boundaries are constantly violated.

24. Paradise Hills (2019) dir. Alice Waddington

25. *Eve’s Bayou (1996) dir. Kasi Lemmons – I’ve been meaning to watch Kasi Lemmons’ directorial debut for many years now, and I’m so glad I finally have, because it fully deserves its icon status, beyond being one of the first major films directed by a black woman. Baby Jurnee Smollett's talent was immediately recognizable, and she has reminded us of it in Birds of Prey and Lovecraft Country this year. If merit was genuinely a factor for Oscar contenders, she would have taken home gold at eleven years old. Beasts of the Southern Wild has been one of my all-time favorites, but now I realize that most of my appreciation for that movie actually goes to Lemmons for blazing the trail with her story of a young black girl from the bayou first. It’s also a surprisingly dark story about memory and abuse and familial relationships that cross lines - really gutsy and surprising themes, especially for the ‘90s.

26. Blow the Man Down (2019) dir. Bridget Savage Cole & Danielle Krudy - Come and get your sea shanty fix!

27. Touchy Feely (2013) dir. Lynn Shelton - R.I.P. :(

28. Hannah Gadsby: Douglas (2020) dir. Madeleine Parry - If you thought Gadsby couldn’t follow up 2018′s sensational Nanette with a comedy special just as sharp and hilarious, you would have been sorely mistaken.

29. Girlhood (2013) dir. Céline Sciamma

30. Breathe (2014) dir. Mélanie Laurent

31. *A Dry White Season (1989) dir. Euzhan Palcy

32. Laggies (2014) dir. Lynn Shelton

33. *The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood – Everything I’ve ever wanted in an action movie: Immortal gays, Charlize Theron wielding a labrys (battle axe), kinetic fight choreography I haven’t seen since the last Bond movie…Watched it twice, then devoured the comics it was adapted from, and I gotta say: in the hands of black women, it eclipses the source material. Cannot wait for the just-announced sequel.

34. Morvern Callar (2002) dir. Lynn Ramsay

35. Shirley (2020) dir. Josephine Decker

36. *Radioactive (2019) dir. Marjane Satrapi – The story is obviously well worth telling and the narrative structure – weaving in the future consequences of Curie’s discoveries – is clever, but a bit awkwardly executed and overly manipulative. There are glimpses of real brilliance throughout, but it feels as if the director’s vision was not fully realized, to my great disappointment. Nonetheless, I appreciated seeing Marie Curie's story being told by a female director and embodied by the always wonderful Rosamund Pike.

37. *The Half of It (2020) dir. Alice Wu - I feel like a real scrooge for saying this, but this movie did nothing for me. Nothing about it felt fresh, authentic or relatable. A real disappointment from the filmmaker behind the wlw classic Saving Face.

38. Mouthpiece (2018) dir. Patricia Rozema - I am absolutely floored. One of those films that makes you fall in love with the art form all over again. Patricia Rozema continues to prove herself one of the most creatively ambitious and insightful directors of our time, with this melancholic meditation on maternal grief and a woman’s duality.

39. Summerland (2020) dir. Jessica Swale - The rare period wlw love story that is not a) all-white or b) tragedy porn. Just lovely.

40. *The Last Thing He Wanted (2020) dir. Dee Rees – As rumored, a mess. Even by the end, I still couldn’t tell you who any of the characters are. Dee, we know you’re so much better than this! (see: Mudbound, Pariah)

41. *Cuties (2020) dir. Maïmouna Doucouré – I watched this film to 1) support a black woman director who has been getting death threats for her work and 2) see what all the fuss is about. While I do think there were possibly some directorial choices that could have saved quite a bit of the pearl-clutching, overall, I didn’t find it overly-exploitative or gross, as many (who obviously haven’t actually watched the film) have labeled it. It certainly does give me pause, though, and makes me wonder whether children can ever be put in front of a camera without it exploiting or causing harm to them in some way. It also makes one consider the blurry line between being a critique versus being an example. File this one under complicated, for sure.

42. A Call to Spy (2019) Lydia Dean Pilcher – An incredible true story of female spies during WWII that perfectly satisfied my itch for British period drama/spy thriller and taught me so much herstory I didn’t know.

43. Kajillionaire (2020) dir. Miranda July - I was lucky enough to attend the (virtual) premiere of this film, followed by an insightful cast/director Q&A, which only made me appreciate it more. July's offbeat dark comedy about a family of con artists is queerer and more heartfelt than it has any right to be, and a needed reprieve in a year of almost entirely white wlw stories. The family's shenanigans are the hook, but it's the budding relationship between Old Dolio (an almost unrecognizable Evan Rachel Wood) and aspiring grifter Melanie (the luminous Gina Rodriguez) that is the heart of the story.

44. Misbehaviour (2020) dir. Philippa Lowthorpe – Again, teaching me herstory I didn’t know, about how the Women’s Liberation Movement stormed the 1970 Miss World Pageant. Keira Knightley and Gugu Mbatha-Raw’s characters have a conversation in a bathroom at the end of the film that perfectly eviscerates well-meaning yet ignorant white feminism, without ever pitting women against each other - a feat I didn’t think was possible. I also didn’t think it was possible to critique the male gaze without showing it (*ahem Cuties, Bombshell, etc*), but this again, invents a way to do it. Bless women directors.

45. *All In: The Fight for Democracy (2020) dir. Liz Garbus and Lisa Cortes – 2020’s 13th. Thank god for Stacey Abrams, that is all.

46. *The 40-Year-Old Version (2020) dir. Radha Blank – This scene right here? I felt that in my soul. This whole film is so good and funny and heartfelt and relatable to any artist trying to walk that tightrope of “making it” while not selling their soul to make it. My only initial semi-note was that it’s a little long, but after hearing Radha Blank talk about how she fought for the two-hour run-time as a way of reclaiming space for older black women, I take it back. She’s right: Let black women take up space. Let her movie be as long as she wants it to be. GOOD FOR HER.

47. Happiest Season (2020) dir. Clea Duvall - Hoooo boy. What was marketed as the first lesbian Christmas rom-com is actually a horror movie for anyone who’s ever had to come out. Throw in casual racism and a toxic relationship treated as otp, and it’s YIKES on so many levels. Aubrey Plaza, Dan Levy, and an autistic-coded Jane are the only (underused) highlights.

48. *Monkey Beach (2020) dir. Loretta Todd

49. *Little Chief (2020) dir. Erica Tremblay – A short film part of the 2020 Red Nation Film Festival, it’s a perfect eleven minutes that I wish had gone on longer, if only to bask in Lily Gladstone in a leading role.

50. First Cow (2019) dir. Kelly Reichardt – I know Kelly Reichardt’s style, so I’ll admit-- even as I was preparing for an excellent film, I was also reaching for my phone, planning on only half paying attention during all the inevitable 30-second shots of grass blowing in the wind. (And yes, there are plenty of those.) But twenty minutes in, my phone was set aside and forgotten, as I am getting sucked into this beautiful story about two frontiersman trying to live their best domestic life.There is only one word to describe this film and that is: PURE. I’ve never seen such a tender platonic relationship between men on screen before, and it’s not lost on me that it took a woman to show us that tenderness. Reichardt gives us two men brought together by fate, and kept together by a shared dream and the simple pleasure of not being alone in such a hard world; two men who spend their days cooking, trapping, baking, and dreaming of a better life; two men who don’t say much, but feel everything for each other. The world would be a much better place if men showed us this kind of vulnerability and friendship toward each other. Oh, and it’s also a brutal take-down of capitalism and the myth of the American Dream!

51. Wonder Woman 1984 (2020) dir. Patty Jenkins - My most-anticipated film for the past two years was...well, a mixed bag, to say the least. Too many thoughts on it for a blog post, so stay tuned for the upcoming podcast ep where we go all in ;)

52. *Selah and the Spades (2019) dir. Tayarisha Poe

I hope this gives you some ideas to kick off your new year with a resolution to support more female directors!

What were your favorite women-directed movies of last year? Let me know in the tags, comments, or asks!

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Hello! I'm back again with another match-up request! Can I plz have a DC match-up? With added gifs , wedding dress, and Dialogue?

My personality: my friends say I'm feral and a subtle chaotic person, i have ADD which means I can be a bit absent minded and have mood swings, I filter my anxiety and depression through humor and I tend to make jokes at the worst times because I want people to not worry so much, im very imaginative I live in my mind as much as I live in reality, I tend to be blunt/forward and its not to be mean I just lack a filter besides that I find it hard to be mean and stand up for myself, im also quite easy going.

Appearance: i have blonde/red hair (I dye my hair different colors often), I have pale skin and hazel eyes and im a bit curvy and im 5'4

Hobbies: I hate dancing i rather sing along to the music, I love listening to music I think its the best form of expression, I sketch often, im awful at cooking but I can bake well, I do tarot and I meditate to help with my anxiety disorder, im also a theater kid so I enjoy acting.

aesthetic: im known to have a hipster type of aesthetic im very laid back and adore 60s and 70s music

how my friends describe me: im known as a gremlin in my friend group, im very spontaneous and a bit aloof and they enjoy my strange humor.

turn ons/likes in a partner: humor, respect, neck kisses, cuddling, they let me take care of them, compassion, flirty moments, them laughing at my bad jokes, doesn't mind im a bit obsessive

turn offs/dislikes in a partner: distant, selfishness, dishonesty, never listens, close mindedness

Life goals;take things in stride and be happy

Dream date: I want to just go somewhere new spontaneously it can be anywhere i especially love night time adventures

Extra: im pansexual but I lean toward males more, im very open minded so im not opposed to polyamorous relationships as long as its close-knit, I tend to be a bit obsessive, I love animals I have a pet hedgehog and I'd love a bunny, im not energetic but that doesn't mean I don't like energetic people, im not always all there emotionally due to my depression, ADD and anxiety disorder, Im not always best with words so I buy gifts when someone is sad. Im a libra and scorpio (born on the cusp) and im an infp.

My theme song rn: bleed magic by I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME and Toes by glass animals

Hello for this DC matchup I ship you with:

Barry Allen a.k.a the flash ⚡

- he was attracted to your personality from when you joined the justice league. You had pshycic super powers making you telepathic and telekinetic.

- you could sense when things are wrong wearing a black mask and suit you normally could move things with your mind. However due to the mood swings it can affect the power causing choas.

- you met the flash through the justice league as you two were often flirty and giddy. You often made sly remarks to his power.

- you both teased each other about how your styles were so 1960s. Since that's when superheroes were on the begginning to rise.

- when it's night you two have a secret affair not letting the team know so when he makes love to you secretly it'll be in a locked bedroom. Whether it's just hugging or kissing. Since you enjoy neck kisses he would give them to you

- when you first kiss it was after a mission to where you two were sitting on top of a building in your work attire.

Barry: dang y/n we did it never thought we would make it out

Y/n: yeah at least I was useful with my powers

Barry: your useful even without your powers *hugs you from behind*

Y/n: oh is that so~ *smirks at him

Barry: yeah *slowly kisses*

- you would both be very close at times as well often complementing each others personality.

- he would take you on dates when the justice league aren't busy.

- he proposed in a restaurant and the two of you agreed to keep it on the down low.

- the two of you married in a chapel with the justice league joining. Your style is hippy and his is a tuxedo.

- your child would be a super telekinetic fast person. They would be able to run and use their powers.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta 💫

[salixj]

(December 21, 2020 / JNS) It’s one of the few rap videos around that features a lead singer in frockcoat, tallis and shtreimel—paired with a cascade of gold chains (one bearing a Magen David) and leopard-skin scarf—dancing with guys from the ‘hood facing off against others in Chassidic garb.

As such, “Mothaland Bounce,” where our hero proudly calls himself “Hitler’s worst nightmare,” reveals much about the man behind it and what it means to be a passionate and deeply committed Jew of color.

Because for Nissim Black—successful rapper, father of six and Orthodox Jew—the video makes a strong statement about how Jews of color merge their very disparate identities into a (nearly) seamless whole.

(Fans may want to check out Black’s newest rap video “Hava”—a thoroughly Nissim spin on the traditional “Hava Nagila”—its release timed for the first night of Hanukkah).

Black is perhaps the most famous of today’s Jews of color. (Readers of a certain age will recall when singer Sammy Davis Jr. could claim that honor).

Though the term itself has gained traction in the last decade, there have always been Jews of different races. Scan the globe today, and you’ll find Ethiopian Jews and the African Lemba tribe whose men test positive for the Kohen gene, a marker of the Jewish priests.

What’s more, many Sephardic, Cuban, Mexican and Yemenite Jews consider themselves Jews of color. Not to mention the murky waters surrounding pockets of the Black Hebrews found in Israel (largely in Dimona and Arad in the Negev Desert) and around the Diaspora, many of whom claim descent from the ancient Israelites.

The numbers are equally murky. Estimates range from 6 percent to 12 percent—or even as much as 15 percent—of today’s Jewish population being Jews of color. But there is little in the way of standardized definition of who is a Jew; some studies count all the members of a household as Jewish household when only one member actually is. But when researchers Arnold Dashefsky and Ira M. Sheskin held the disparate estimates of Jews of color up to the light of demographic standards earlier this year, they concluded that the percentage of Jews of color “is almost certainly closer to 6 percent nationally [from the 2013 Pew study] than 12 to 15 percent. And this percentage has not increased significantly since 1990, although it is likely to do so in the future.”

It stands to reason that this year of painful racial tensions across North America could trigger an internal debate in African-American Jews, especially those who came to the faith not through birth or adoption, but who, like Black, embraced Judaism as adults.

And embrace it many of them do—with passion, perseverance and a deep appreciation—often overcoming raised eyebrows, insensitivity and even downright racism in the process. With a surprising number of them finding their spiritual home in Orthodox Judaism.

Nissim Black

Damian Jamohl Black, whom the world knows now as rapper Nissim Black, was born into a family of Seattle drug dealers in 1986. His childhood was pockmarked by FBI raids on his home, his dad was taken away in handcuffs, and he was accustomed to assorted incidents of street violence and crime. By 9, he was smoking marijuana, and plants were growing in his room. By 12, he’d joined the family business.

The only faith Black was exposed to back then was his grandfather’s Islam. His first religious service? A mosque, which he attended until his grandfather went to prison.

But at 13, Black was pulled into Christianity by missionaries. He now says it was the best thing that could have happened to him. “This was the first time I was around people who had normal healthy relationships. No one sold drugs, they had a heart for kids from the inner city, and their summer camp was the most fun I’d had in my life,” he recalls. “Becoming religious saved me from the world of street gangs.”

By high school, he was “the poster child of the missionary center.” That’s when he met the woman who would become his wife. As a Seventh-Day Adventist, Jamie (now Adina) went to church on Saturdays. They wed in 2008 but remarried in an Orthodox ceremony after their conversion five years later.

By 19, Black was making rap music professionally, and his mother died of an overdose. But by 20, Christianity was beginning to feel foreign to him, and he began wondering what the Jews walking in his neighborhood on Saturday mornings were up to. “I went to Rabbi Google and found Chabad.org. And it all began to make sense,” he says. “I told my wife [they were newlyweds] that I didn’t want to celebrate Christmas and Easter anymore. Pretty soon, she was doing her own digging into Judaism.”

The couple’s conversion followed in 2013 and aliyah to Israel three years later. The Blacks now make their home in Ramat Beit Shemesh with their six children, ages 1 to 12. “I wanted my kids to grow up here,” he says, “where they’d see Jews of different shades all praying the same prayers.”

“I’ve checked every box, right?” he says with a laugh. “One rabbi at my yeshivah told me, ‘You have a lot of strikes against you: You’re black, you’re a convert and you’re a Breslov Chassid. And in all these things is your greatness.”

Maayan Zik

Maayan Zik was 13 when her soul woke her up. Growing up in Washington, D.C., with her mom and sister—her parents divorced when she was in first grade, and she didn’t see her dad for another 10 years—she attended Catholic schools and was close with her maternal grandparents, Jamaican immigrants who took her to museums and taught her the value of hard work and education.

Accompanying her Jamaican-born grandmother to church every Sunday, by 13, Zik had “begun to wonder if what my family believes is right for me.” She explored a number of world religions, but when she saw a photo of her light-skinned Jamaican great-grandmother Lilla Abrams, whom family lore says was Jewish, “I realized I had to go way back to find out who I am.”

When she moved to an apartment in 2005 in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, N.Y., she noticed the previous tenant had a left up a poster of a white-bearded man. “I said to myself, ‘I’m going to find out who you are.’ The man turned out to be the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Two years later, after courses and a summer seminary program, she converted. Thirteen years later, now 36, Zik remains there—with her Israeli-born husband and four children. “This somewhat awkward coexistence that lives inside me” fades into the background when she begins to pray, she says. “Having a personal conversation with God as part of the Jewish people, it’s who I’ve always been; I just didn’t know it.”

Mordechai Ben Avraham

Black and Mordechai Ben Avraham are both African-Americans from the West Coast (Seattle and Los Angeles, respectively), and both found Judaism in their 20s. But their early environment could hardly have been more different.

Growing up in an affluent neighborhood with a successful businessman father and a professor mother, “my focus was on how someday I could make more money than my dad.”

Ben Avraham’s spiritual journey took him from Sufism to the Kabbalah until at 22 he experienced Shabbat in a Carlebach-style minyan. “It was like I was floating in outer space. This is what Jews do? This is amazing! The Torah, the prayers, this beautiful spiritual system God gave to the Jews for people to transform themselves—they literally grabbed my heart.” His conversion was complete in 2013 with his move to Israel three years later.

Now 39, the former TV producer is living in the heart of Jerusalem’s religious Mea Shearim neighborhood, working towards his rabbinical degree and publishing a book on the joys of Torah as a black Jew.

But why would anyone who’s already making a huge leap religiously and culturally choose to embrace Orthodoxy with its full menu of mitzvot, accepting the Torah as Divine and committing to living within halachah (Jewish law)?

“If someone is going to make this big of a change completely based on their need to go beyond, there’s a very real tendency to go what many would consider ‘all the way,’ ” says Henry Abramson, dean of Brooklyn’s Touro College and author of The Kabbalah of Forgiveness: The Thirteen Levels of Mercy in Rabbi Moshe Cordovero’s Date Palm of Devorah (2014), among other titles.

A shared history

Much of this tendency to search spiritually can be traced to African-Americans’ religious experience in America, adds Abramson. “Since the 1960s, we’ve seen the phenomenon of questioning the Christianity foisted on their slave ancestors.”

And though Islam has attracted many of these disenfranchised souls—in part, he says, because the black Muslim culture permeated prisons beginning in the 1960s—Judaism offers another option.

Ben Avraham maintains that, in a spiritual sense, Judaism may feel familiar to those raised in the black church. “Like Judaism, gospel Christianity is an intense personal relationship with God without any intermediaries,” he says.

This is a connection Ben Avraham experiences every day of his life. “Living in Mea Shearim, in a fundamental way, I’m around people who are just like me. I just connect with my Chassidic neighbors.”

A growing fissure

But after the 1960s and ’70s, when Jews fought alongside blacks for civil rights in the United States and in South Africa, “there’s been a growing fissure between blacks and Jews,” says Rabbi Maury Kelman who, as director of Route 613, a New York City conversion program, has welcomed many students of different races into his classes.

And, with last summer’s rise in violence between the African-American community and the religious Jewish community, primarily in New York,” says Black, “lately, it’s gotten uglier.”

‘I cried all the way home’

Not everyone in the Jewish community rolls out the proverbial red carpet for someone of color.

After working up the courage to walk into synagogue on Shabbat, Zik couldn’t miss the two women glaring at her, eventually yelling at her to get out and threatening to call the police before giving chase.

“I cried all the way home, but my friends would not let me give up,” she says. “I also knew from everything I’d read about the Rebbe, with his emphasis on love and kindness, that eventually this would be the right place for me.”

“Unfortunately, like in all communities, you’ll find the occasional ignorant Jew or racist,” allows Kelman, who offers programs on the importance of accepting the convert.

A time of racial tensions

With this year’s heated racial debates and demonstrations following the May 25 killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis, where does that put Jews of color, with feet in both the African-American and Jewish worlds?

Zik, for one, helped lead a rally in Crown Heights this summer where black neighbors shared their experiences with racism. “It was a reminder,” she says, “that the Torah teaches us to protect the rights of all God’s children.”

And the learning goes both ways, she adds. “When black friends ask me if now that I’m Jewish, do I have money? I tell them about the Jews I know who struggle to pay for rent, food and their kids’ yeshivah tuitions. I tell them that, when I’ve had my babies, neighbors bring us meals and help furnish the nursery. People here always want to do another mitzvah.”

Ben Avraham also says he better appreciates African-American history because he is a Jew. “We can see our own story reflected in the Torah,” he says. “Our two peoples had so many struggles just to survive.”

Adds Black: “Just knowing there are black religious Jews can help the two communities see they aren’t completely separate after all—not to judge each other so quickly.”

Kelman agrees. “Black Jews can be a terrific bridge chiefly because they have credibility on both sides. It’s increasingly important to teach our fellow Jews that we’re a family that comes in different colors, that Judaism is colorblind,” he says. “Once they convert, they’re just as Jewish as any of us—and our diversity only strengthens us.”

‘Something bigger than myself’

By the end of “Mothaland Bounce,” the guys from the ’hood and the Chassids are dancing together with Black as ringmaster.

But it may be “A Million Years” that’s Black’s love letter to Judaism.

In this 2016 music video (with singer Yisroel Laub), Black takes a journey proudly carrying a Torah throughout Israel—archeological digs, mountain caves, a busy shuk (marketplace) and Jerusalem’s Old City—turning heads as he goes. (Don’t miss the moment when Black stops to let some haredi kids lovingly kiss the Torah), finally nestling it inside a synagogue’s ark.

“Since I was a kid, I was looking to be part of something bigger than myself,” says Black. “I prayed and prayed, and finally, I knew who I needed to be, a Jew, and where I needed to be, the Holy Land. It took time but now God’s answered my prayers. And one thing I know is that to God there is no such thing as color. He sees us for who we are inside.”

As he raps:

“I came from a distance Where everything was different … I called out to You And You showed me that You listened … I gave my all to You And You showed me who I am.”

[tabloidtoc]

National Examiner, March 29

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: The Jayne Mansfield only her daughter Mariska Hargitay knew

Page 2: They're Aging Like Fine Wine -- celebs reflect on the wonders of getting older -- Candice Bergen, Anthony Hopkins, Halle Berry, Diane Keaton, Jennifer Lopez, Sandra Bullock, Bette Davis, Reese Witherspoon, Sally Field

Page 3: Helen Mirren, Jamie Lee Curtis, Madonna, Sigourney Weaver, Michael Caine, Jennifer Aniston, Goldie Hawn, Diane Lane

Page 4: Warren Beatty's roles and costumes

Page 6: Since her 2016 split from Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie has had to keep calm and carry on with six growing kids to think about and she admits the past few years have been pretty hard and she's been focusing on healing her family -- the six kids she shares with Brad, who range in age from 12 to 19, have been looking out for her too -- the 45-year-old is looking forward to her 50s and she feels that she's going to hit her stride in her 50s

Page 7: Canine Cuisine -- simple home-cooked fare for Fido

Page 9: Reach for at-home antibiotics

Page 10: When a Texas grocery store lost power during the devastating recent storm, they did something unimaginably generous -- they allowed all the customers to leave with whatever was in the shopping carts without paying for anything -- the shoppers at an H-E-B supermarket in Leander didn't even have to cough up a dime as they proceeded through the checkout lanes, even if they had hundreds of dollars' worth of food and supplies weighing down their wagons

Page 11: Your Health -- crying is healthy

* If you suffer from insomnia, try wearing socks to bed

Page 12: Hollywood Cemetery Shockers -- Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, Whitney Houston, John Wayne

Page 13: James Brown, Michael Todd, Princess Diana, Sammy Davis Jr., Judy Garland, Steve Irwin

Page 14: Dear Tony, America's Top Psychic Healer -- the secret of life is so simple and attainable -- Tony predicts movie and TV star Robin Wright's move to being a director will be very successful and there will be many more films to come

Page 15: A Florida man just received the biggest surprise of his long life at the party to celebrate his 100th birthday -- someone had found and returned his wedding ring that he lost five years earlier while shopping at an Aldi's in Minnesota

Page 16: Kathie Lee Gifford: It's never too late to go after your dreams

Page 18: Happy Days mom Marion Ross is 92 now, but she still holds a memory about the legendary Cary Grant close to her heart -- back in 1959, when she was married to Freeman Meskimen, the actress was working on a film with the handsome star when she discovered she might be pregnant but she wasn't absolutely sure and so she didn't share her suspicions with anyone until one day, when a scene called for her to do something she wasn't sure a possibly pregnant woman should be doing, she revealed her secret to Cary Grant -- he sat down next to her, put his arm around her and said sweetly You're pregnant! and when she looked up at him, he had tears in his eyes; he was so excited for her and they had this marvelous moment together -- Marion said her husband was less than thrilled when her pregnancy was confirmed and they divorced a few years later

Page 19: An Indiana middle-school principal made the cut when he helped a kid out of a hairy situation -- when an eighth-grader at Stonybrook in Warren Township confided in Jason Smith he couldn't take his hat off because he was embarrassed about his uneven haircut, Jason offered to really straighten things out if he promised to return to class -- Jason has been cutting hair most of his life and he played college basketball and cut his teammates' hair before games, and he's been cutting his son's hair for 17 years and he had professional clippers and edgers at home, so he said if he went home and got his clippers and lined the student up, would he go back to class? and the student said yes, so Jason gave the kid a buzz and the happy student went back to class -- Jason says he knows a bad haircut may sound like a small thing, but to a boy that age, grappling with peer pressure, a bad 'do is a real don't

Page 20: Cover Story -- My mom Jayne Mansfield -- Mariska Hargitay reveals bombshell truths about the beloved sex symbol

Page 22: Use your noodle -- pool toy swims to the rescue

Page 24: Back when Calvin Tyler was in college in the early 1960s, he had such a hard time scraping together tuition money that he had to drop out before finishing his senior year and take a job as a UPS driver -- fast-forward a few decades: Calvin has just donated $20 million to Morgan State University in Baltimore, his alma mater

Page 25: A wounded veteran in Temecula, California, got the surprise of his life when he received a mortgage-free home courtesy of the Gary Sinise Foundation -- Josue Barron, who had joined the Marines at age 17, lost both his left leg and his left eye while serving in Afghanistan in 2010

Page 26: Dreamy hunk Patrick Swayze fell for one of his co-stars while filming the romantic movie Ghost, but the object of his affection wasn't on-screen love Demi Moore; it was Whoopi Goldberg

Page 28: 20 things you didn't know about James Bond actor Daniel Craig

Page 30: Spunky Hayley Arceneaux won a battle with bone cancer when she was 10 years old, and grew up to become a physician assistant in child oncology at St. Jude's Children's Hospital, where she was treated and if that wasn't enough, Hayley is going to blast off on a space flight -- the super survivor, who's now 29, was selected by the St. Jude's staff from hundreds of other employees to represent the famous hospital on the first-ever civilian spaceflight, arranged by the company SpaceX, to take place at the closing of 2021

Page 40: It's crystal clear -- the healing starts here -- crystals are very effective when it comes to healing, especially with one's emotion and they have special energies in different ways

Page 42: How to lower your COVID risk -- with new variants of the virus documented in the U.S., it's important to stay vigilant

Page 44: Eyes on the Stars -- Rebecca Holden of Knight Rider (picture), Lou Diamond Phillips of Prodigal Son in NYC (picture), Katharine McPhee admitted she was concerned with what people would think early on during her romance with 71-year-old David Foster, the daughter of John Travolta and Kelly Preston named Ella Blue Travolta is following in the footsteps of her actor parents by starring in Get Lost which is a modern-day retelling of Alice in Wonderland, Sarah Silverman recently apologized for mocking Paris Hilton at the 2007 MTV Awards, Nicolas Cage has tied the knot for the fifth time to Riko Shibata, Metallica have donated $75,000 to Feeding America via their All Within My Hands nonprofit and the funds are earmarked to aid folks in Texas who were affected by deadly winter storms

Page 45: Orlando Bloom running on the beach while vacationing in Hawaii (picture), Antonio Banderas (picture), Tom Jones takes the stage in the U.K. (picture), Robin Roberts near ABC's NYC studio (picture), Aaron Carter and fiancee Melanie Martin say they have a baby on the way nearly 10 months after she'd suffered a miscarriage, Dustin Diamond was never married to his galpal Jennifer Misner according to his death certificate, Liam Neeson attended a NYC screening of his new movie to thank viewers for coming to the theater on the first day Big Apple cinemas reopened after being shuttered by COVID-19 last year

Page 46: A single mom of three was struggling to do everything on her own, but there was one problem she lacked the skills and money to handle -- her house in Sudbury, Massachusetts was falling apart and that's when some kindly Good Samaritans stepped in with their toolbelts and performed the extensive home repairs she need at no charge

Page 47: Parenting Advice From the Stars -- Reese Witherspoon, Busy Philipps, Mark Consuelos and Kelly Ripa, Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively, Jada Pinkett Smith and Will Smith, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Jennifer Garner

[luci-cunt]

Tell me about Magneto🤭

MAY YOU CAN’T SEE IT BUT IM KISSING YOU SO PASSIONATELY RIGHT NOW

Ok so listeeennnn tooooo meeeee, okokokok, so a while ago I went on this James McAvoy bender--don’t ask--and I saw he was in the X-Men movies, whic hi haven’t watched since the Wolverine movies/ Last Stand when I was like, actually a baby. So anyways I flipped them on thinking “yeah what could go wrong?” except I watched them in the wrong order

Anyways here’s an essay on why neither Erik or Prof X was right and the actual answer would be to compromise and these movies how how because they’re both too stubborn and couldn’t it destroyed their friendship and fucked everything up. 

Also the fact that X-Men: First Class is the best Villain origin story to ever cross the screen.

Ok so spoilers ahead for X-Men: Days of Future Past and X-Men: First Class

Now, it should be noted that I’m no an X-Men expert I just love these two movies. 

So for some context: First Class and Days of Future Past are both kind of prequels, except DoFP is a prequel-sequel?? becuase of time travel?? I’ll explain don’t worry. The point is, they take place in the past where all the characters are younger. James McAvoy plays Professor X (who I’ll just be calling X for this whole thing), Michael Fassbender plays Magneto (aka Erik), oh and Jennifer Lawrence plays Mystic--who will be appearing in this essay XDD. 

Alright so first of all have a plot summary: DoFP is about Wolverine getting sent back in time so he can convince a younger Prof X to stop Raven (aka Mystic) from getting caught by this guy Trask who then uses her DNA to create super weapons that irradiate all mutants. The current future Wolverine is in, he, prof X, Magneto, and a few other mutants are trying their best to survive but it’s a losing battle and their only hope is to literally change the past. 

This one takes place after the events of First Class, which I will now explain. 

So in First Class a younger Prof X and Magneto team up to find and recruit bb mutants to X’s school because the government wants to use Mutants to help fight the Russians (oh head this takes placee in the 1960′s right before the Cuban Missile Crisis). This is essentially a Magneto origin story and also--in my opinion--the best villain origin story to ever cross the screen. 

OK so now some details on our main characters: 

Magneto/ Erik Lehnsherr: a literal holocaust survivor who’s only goal in the begining of the story is hunting/ killing nazi’s, specifically one nazi who tortured him specifically and I will get into him later don’t worry. 

Professor X: super smart rich white boy with a heart of gold but also enough naivete to make a lamb look like a Stephen King character. 

Already you can see very stark differences between the two of them. Erik is set up as being a staunch pessimist while X is a vivid optimist, and that makes sense. X’s grown up sheltered and never wanting for anythign while Erik suffered a trainwreck of the greatest traumas in human existence hitting him over and over and over again from like age fucking 9. 

Ok also tehre’s J-Law’s character Raven, who is a mutant that can change her skin to look like anythign she wants it to but her actual form is blue/ scaly/ “not pretty” (bullshit but ok). She met X when she broke into his house one night to steal some food and then they became friends, their relationship will become important later but for now that’s all u need to know. 

ok so anyways, in the begining of First Class Erik is hunting + killing Nazi’s, specifically looking for this one called Schmidt because when Erik was little he and his family were carted away to a concentration camp where Schmidt witness Erik use his metal bending powers and decided to “train” him. aka physically/ mentally abuse him for years. The whole thing starts with Schmidt trying to get Erik to lift a metal coin with his mind, when he can’t (because he’s a child who didn’t even know he had his powers until literally hours ago) Schmidt puts his mother’s life on the line and when he still can’t Schmidt kills her. This sends Erik it’s a rage and he crushes some nazi heads but then Schmidt is still standing and mentions how “oh gotcha, so it’s rage and pain that’s the key to your powers huh?” anyways this tidbit and the coin will become important later trust me--

Meanwhile Prof X is graduating from Oxford/ generally being an idiot pretty boy. He’s a telepath who knows about his powers and has used them from an early age. He also wrote some big paper on mutants, which gets the attention of an FBI agent who witnesses the villains being mutants and wants his advice

However, the villains just so happen to be Schmidt, who’s going by “Shaw” now, so when X and the agents catch up to him Erik is already there and on a mission to murder his ass. Some bs happens, Erik tries to pull a submarine out of the water but can’t (T-T this will be important) and X jumps into the water to stop him because the mental stress is literally killing him. 

That’s how they meet. 

It’s important to note: up until this point, Erik didn’t know there were other mutants, so meeting X, who’s friends with Raven, is kind of a big deal for him. He and X become very fast friends and also have a very homoerotic montage where they become dads for a bunch of mutant teenagers, because they realize they can use X to track all these baby mutants, collect them, and train them so they don’t grow up fearing their powers. 

Anyways, the other thing about this is that now that Erik has this newfound group of people that are just like him, he’s opening up, and X is helping him realize he’s actually so much more powerful when he taps into happy memories rather than fueling himself on pain and rage. This scene always makes me sob oh my god--

Also, fellas--is it gay to “access the brightest cortex” of your homies memories and remind him that hate and pain are not good motivators before reminding him that he has good memories he can draw on and showing him that his life has not been entirely painful?

YEs, the answer is yes are u shitting me??

ok so anyways--something to note about this is that X and Erik are both very protective of all their new kids, but Erik is especially so. I’m going to be getting into this more but just tab thsi thought for later :)

Now, the plot’s kicking up a bit, because it’s at this point that Erik and X capture one of Shaw’s (aka the nazi’s) main lackies and they question her until she gives them the info that Shaw’s planning on using the Cuban Missile Crisis tensions to start a nuclear war to wipe out all humans so that only mutants survive in the new world. 

Obviously they want to stop him, but also, you can kind of tell that Erik is not totally against this plan, which only gets to be more later but that’s for later. 

Right now I wanna take a quick break to talk about Raven--aka Mystic, aka J-Law. She and X were childhood friends and she kind of clung to him because she doesn’t have family/ anyone she can really be herself around besides him. 

X insistently says throughout the movie he sees her as a sister, but it’s kinda obvious she’d be down to fuck. She has this big plotline where she keeps trying to get X to understand why it’s so frustrating for her to have to be using energy to look “human.” Because her natural form is the one with the blue skin. X doesn’t understand this because his power is easy to hide, it’s simple for him to just fake-human and have no one be any wiser, Raven, however, doesn’t have that luxury and when she tries to explain this to X it just flies over his head, insisting she hide her natural self to better fit in if that’s what she really wants. 

Queue Erik, who comes in as a king of self love. He’s pretty blunt about it, but his point is basically “you’re wasting energy by constantly pretending you’re something you’re not--stop” and she responds essentially with “yeah but then no one will like me” to which he responds “then make them.”  

Raven’s relationship with both the boys is used through both First Class and DoFP to really highlight their faults. X believes humans and mutants can coexist but he thinks we go about doign that by completely ignoring the pages of history of abuse mutants have suffered--and it’s mostly because he hasn’t experienced it. 

Erik on the other hand will do everything and anything he possibly can to protect his new family/ people, and in his head that means exterminating any and all threats. By the end of the movie--humans become one of those threats. 

The point of this whole ramble is that: they both represent utter opposites, BUT, X’s blind optimism and Erik’s blind pessimism are equally bad.

Ok so back to plot for a second to prove this. 

Shaw is revealed to be a mutant himself and he also has a helmet that can block telepathy. (yes it’s the magneto helmetjasjd;fkjaskl;dfjasldkj jsut wait).

His plan’s complicated but basically: he’s going to poke America and Russia until they pop and incite a nuclear war. And it works. The whole pre-climax of the film sees X, Erik, Raven, and the other mutants all working double time to stop Shaw’s plan (AND IT INVOLVES ERIK SUCCESSFULLY PULING A SUBMARINE OUT OF THE WATER!!! BECAUSE NOW HE’S USING HAPPINESS INSTEAD OF ANGER/ PAIN!!!). 

Anywho, they’re doing all this, but then some bullshit happens, the plane they’re on crashes oh and -- yeah there’s this part where Erik uses himself as a seatbelt for X it’s fantastic but anyways--

This is finally the climax of the film. 

Also possibly the greatest scene in film history in my humble opinion. 

Because listen--in order to stop Shaw they need the helmet off of him so that X can telepathically freeze his ass and they can arrest him or whatever. So they split up--Erik rushes into the wreckage to find Shaw and X stays behind ready to freeze the guy as soon as the helmet comes off but--

Well, vengence is just too tempting. 

So when Erik gets Shaws helmet off, X freezes the guy, and he’s ecstatic, at least until he realizes Erik plans on killing Shaw. 

He’s pleading with Erik because this is vengence and he can’t chose that but Erik just puts on the helmet and--taunts Shaw, pulling out the coin Shaw taunted him with all those years ago and in a mimickry of the game Shaw forced him to play as a child and killed his mother over--he slowly floats the coin at Shaws head, telling him “I’m going to count to ten, and all you have to do is move.” 

But he can’t--because X is holding him--and that’s the point, Erik wants him as helpless as he was, and X can’t let his hold on Shaw go because that would mean putting Erik in danger but he’s also in Shaws head so he feels the coin go through his head as though Erik was doing it to him and the fucking cinematography in this scene is so fuaksdjf;laksjd;fjasd;lkfjadsl;asdjf;ljL:DKJFL:SDKJFL:D KFUCKKKKK

This scene is cinematic perfection don’t fucking lOOK at me unless you agree.

T-T and then, it only gets worse, because now Erik’s finally finished his original purpose--killing the man who killed his mother and ruined his life--and now he’s got a new one, aka protecting his new family aka the mutants. 

AND HE’S ONLY PROVEN RIGHT THAT HUMANS ARE A THREAT BECAUSE THEY TURN AND TRY TO KILL ALL THE MUTANTS IN THE PLANE CRASH AND JSUT--

And so he stops all the missiles flying their way, and turns them around on the humans and X has to stop him but he’s not listening and the rawest fucking line in the whole movie comes when X says

“There’s hundreds of men on those ships--innocent men. They’re just following orders!” 

And Erik simply replies, “I’ve been at the mercy of men ‘just following orders’--never again.” 

And then he goes to blow up the shipsthen one of the other characters goes to shoot Erik and he deflects the bullet wtihout thinking right. into. X’s. back. 

Paralysing him. 

And just akjd;fjasdflkjasd;lfkj this scene speaks for itself

Listen just--akjdsf;ljasdlk jguys this movie has no right being this good.

And then the movie closes off with X and Erik literally begging one another to just see it their way--because they both want so badly to be on the same side but they’re too stubborn and they refuse to see compromise and just ajkdf;lja;sdkfja;sdljkfsadlkf

Ok I realize now that I barely talked about DoFP but this is already so long. The major things I was going to bring up was teh absolutely fantastic bitter exes energy that McAvoy and Fassbender bring to that movie it’s excellent but also the fact that X is literally the only person Erik goes out of his way not to kill despite standing directly in the way of Erik’s goal. 

Like, you remember my whole deal with Raven??? yeah that’s x10 in DoFP (which takes place quickly after this movie) yeah so her and Erik are close, and shown to be close, but the second he thinks she endangers his fam he literally 180′s so quick and tries to straight up murder her. 

BUT HE FUCKING BENDS THE BULLET AROUND X’s HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! X!!!!!!!!!! WHO’S LITERALLY 100% AGAINST HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST

Ok, that’s all. By the way I don’t want to like, up your expecations too much because I actually kind of hate X-Men: First Class almost as much as I love it?? it’s very..... of it’s era, and cheesy, and dumb--but fucking magneto you guys holy SHIT