#ladies today you can legally commit murder!!

[junkyardstrash]

Cup Runneth Over - Kiki Rockwell

We’re gonna pretend her ring is on the left hand 🫶

[ziracona]

Hello! I have always believed that Michael needed better doctors and good treatment. He was simply billed as "Evil". Sometimes I think that at that time they were unaware or ignorant of mental illness, and that is why Michael did not recover. I wish it had been treated better. I would like to know your opinion about it ;v;

Oh, absolutely. Michael is a very tragic character, and what happened to him was almost entirely Loomis’ fault, secondarily the system and his parents’, and like onyl 0.8% his own. It’s true that mental health aid has historically been really bad in most places, and even today treatment and acceptance—even in specifically medical settings—tend to be abysmal. Of course people knew less than they do now about how psychological stuff works, but bias, cruelty, and superstition as well as a system that enables and even to degrees outright encourages that is to blame for the awful treatment people woth mental illnesses and personality disorders faced and continue to face, not just a lack of knowledge, and the history is really heavy and awful to look over. : ( It’s horrific some of the things doctors have done and do to people just trying to get help.

Like, in Michael’s case, we’ve had a name and understanding of psychosis since the 1800s. Canonically, by the time the poor kid was six years old, he was hearing voices telling him to do bad things to people. He told his parents, seeking help, and they did nothing to help him—just told him it was his imagination—despite knowing hos grandfather had suffered the same symptoms. If they had only taken him seriously and given him therapy and possibly medication too, Judith never would have died. (I am not goong to say it every time, but all this information is official canon) Michael’s reason for killing his family members is wanting the vocies talking to him to be quiet, because it’s agonizing. If you’ve ever had intrusive thoughts (stuff like “pull into oncoming traffic” or “break that and see what happens” and such that don’t actually compell or force you to do it at all, and are always things you as a person deeply do not want to do, but nevertheless are really annoying or distressing to hear in your head), imagine that cranked up to 1000, endless and constant, but from voices that seem to come from around you instead of in your head. Especially as a young child, with no understanding what is happening to you, this would be incredibly scary and distressing—doubly so when dismissed by your parents, whose sole job is supposed to be to love and protect you.

The voices say they’ll be quiet if Michael kills Judith, so Halloween night, he does. Important to note here Michael is recently six years old at the time, which developmental psych literally is not old enough to have a complete understanding what death itself is, let alone complex morality. You /cannot/ be evil at six, you simply don’t have a complex enough understanding of right and wrong or of consequence to /be/ evil. Also at this age, usually kids see death as a vague concept, but one that applies to people they don’t know only, not to them and their loved ones. In Halloween 1978, immediately after stabbing Judith, Michael looks away while he keeps doing it, and his breathing speeds up in a scared way. He barely looks at the body, and immediately goes down stairs to wait for his parents—probably for them to fix it—and does nothing to flee or hide what he’s done. He looks traumatized when they take his mask off. (Lots of little notes here like that Judith when she sees him seems annoyed but not very, and when he attacks her, tries to shield herself and call to him to stop, rather than fleeing or fighting back, which [appealing instead of fight or flight] is pretty exclusively something you only would use if attcked by someone you are on good terms with—I mean, Michael is six—if Judith had /tried/ to fight back, no way she would have died—so there’s less than nothing to indicate they had anything but a loving familial sibling relationship. But if I list all these I’m gonna launch into my six page Michael Myers meta so I will speed through the rest.)

Anyway! Sorry, I have many feelings. About...everything. Including Michael for sure. So, immediately after killing Judith, Michael stops talking. He also shows other psychosis and trauma readily recognized side effects, like catatonia, slowed movement. In Halloween 1978c Dr. Loomis claims he tried to treat Michael for eight years, then spent another seven trying to keep him locked up because he realized he was evil. This is a /blatant/ lie, as in film canon Loomis, by Michael’s review hearing I believe four months in? Six or less for sure, I believe it is four. Loomis has /already/ become convinced Michael is a demon in human form, faking his symptoms, and itching to kill again. The other doctors think Loomis is crazy, as does the other doctor who examines Michael, but they’re awful people so they let him stay Michael’s doctor anyway, even though they refuse to move him to Litchfield maximum security. By this time only a few months in, Loomis is canonically also threatening the six year old in his care and constantly telling him he is an evil being who wants to get out and terrorize again. (Also, I will die enraged the sentance Michael gets for killing Judith is to remain locked in solitary in a sanitorium for /15/ years, until he turns 21, at which point he will be tried as an adult for murder??? The fuck?? You CANNOT charge a 6 year old’s crime in adult court! ‘Tried as an adult’ is meant for like, when a 17 year old dismembers their family and eats them! It’s for particularly heinous crimes, committed by someone /very/ close to being legally an adult, and that /only/. The idea of waiting fifteen years to try someone as an adult for something done at age six is laughable and sick).

Okay this is already long, I get carried away rip. Uhhh, anyway, yeah. In Smith’s Grove, Michael is visited by mom and Laurie once, then never sees any of his family again, because his dad hates him and forbids the others—finds out because Laurie is four and talks that they went /one/ time, and physically beats four year old Laurie for mentioning his name until she trauma blocks out ever having had a brother. From then on, Michael spends /fifteen/ years and all the dest of his developmental stages of childhood in a sanitorium with Dr. Loomis—a man who on wild religious superstition grounds assumes by his own admission /on sight/ that Michael is evil, and no other human contact. According to canon, Michael spends at least four hours of /every/ day with Loomis, his /only/ human contact, who threatens him, promises to stop him, and endlessly barrages him with “You’re evil, you’re not human, you want to kill again, I /will/ stop you,” and nothing else. He also canonically keeps Michael overdosed on a type of antipsychotic that, while a fine drug if used normally, if overdosed can deeply worsen symptoms, and can cause permanent brain damage.

Honestly, if a six year old is exposed yo major trauma, none of their issues are explained, legitimized, or believed, and almost all of their developmental stage is spent with endless voices they don’t know the cause of suggesting murder and violence, one human being and authority figure telling them over and over and over for fifteen years with no other constant in their life or human contact period that they are a demon in human form who wants to kill and is /going/ to do so again...? How else was that story ever going to end? I’ve said it before, but that’s beyond conditioning; it’s lab growing a human child to one day walk out and murder Laurie Strode with a large kitchen knife.

I stand by Halloween is a greek tragedy more than a slasher, and Michael and Laurie are both victims. He’s the Asterios, she’s the Ariadne. Loomis the Minos, the real villain. (Or the Poseidon choose your poison).

Anyway, I 100% agree! If he had just gotten help from his parents, Judith would have never died. If he’d had good doctors, none of the events of 1978 would have come to pass, or anything after it. Loomis single-handedly causes the deaths in 1978 himself through years of cruelty, and bigoted bias towards a small child in his care who needed his help, not his abuse, but he chose to break as much as he possibly could despite his responsibilities as a doctor, an adult, and a human.

If you’re interested, I did a canon-deep-dive character study short story on Michael on AO3! Halloween is such a sad story but it’s fascinating. God, poor Michael and Laurie deserved so much better than they got. It’s a testament to Michael’s character that even after 15 years of Dr. Loomis, he really only kills his intented target(s) in search of quiet from the voices, and anyone who sees him/would be a threat, and not other people. Makes no attempt to kill any of the kids in Halloween 2018, and only kills Bob when he literally opens the door to his hiding spot and Michael is found and Bob becomes a threat to him. In H20, after Michael has had 20 years on his own, you get arguably the least brutal Michael, who intentionally passes on killing the mother and child, and the security guard he walks right past, because they don’t see him and thus he doesn’t /have/ to. Halloween II is less intentionally avoiding, but even then he still does the same multiple times too, like with the old lady making a sandwich, or the scene in the incubator room. Anyway he desevered better fuck Loomis all my homies hate Loomis.

[silverhallow]

It’s got to be Benophie and “I don’t think I have ever felt safer than in your arms.” 🥺

It's now on Ao3....

Or you can read below the cut:

Towards Forever - A Benophie Story

The day of Sophie and Benedict’s wedding arrived. Benedict woke in the Summer House, his head just a little thick as he saw his younger brother lying on the chaise a blanket over him, Anthony and Simon had both gone back to the house to their wives and children.

Benedict had a few more drinks with his brother, thanking Colin for helping him get his head out of his arse and realise that his future was Sophie and he was giddy with excitement.

In a few short hours she would be legally his, yes in his heart she was his wife and he missed her down to his core, in his bones last night but to finally have her as Mrs Bridgerton, to have that ending that roared into existence a little over 2 years ago…

He’d considered sneaking back to the house but he knew his mother would be watching

from a small hint from Anthony as he left, as he saw that glint in Benedict’s eye. His older brother had said that maybe… Sophie wasn’t in his old room as he had expected and that Sophie was maybe in the room next to their mother’s suite and maybe their mother was leaving her window open to hear if he decided to try and climb the tree outside.

So he stayed put, he knew it would not do for mother of the Bridgergroom to commit murder on his wedding day. He had waited long enough. One more night he had reasoned and he never had to part from Sophie again.

He decided to get up and donned his jacket and for amusement, he kicked his brothers chaise chasing him to jerk awake in fright “yarghh!”

Colin yelled as he sat up “what the hell!” He blasphemed

“Get up! We need to go back to the house for breakfast before I get married!” Benedict bounced in his heels as Colin chuckled

“You’re more excited than Hyacinth is when it’s her birthday” Colin laughed as he pulled himself to his feet.

“I’ve waited two years to marry Sophie. I am allowed to be excitedable” Benedict said indignantly

Colin laughed “I’m teasing brother. I am aware of your impatience after last night” he teased.

Benedict rolled his eyes “am I ever going to live that down?”

Colin stood and clapped his brother on his back “nope! Come on then let’s go get you married” Colin smirked at his brother as he led him off.

~*~

Sophie Beckett could not believe the changes that had occurred in her life in the last 3 days…

Three days ago she was sitting in a jail cell expecting to be transported but here she was in a large warm fluffy bed, at Aubrey Hall… about to marry the love of her life. The man who stormed said jail cell and along with her step-sister had rescued her and saved her.

In a few short hours she would be a wife… she would belong to a family!

And not just any family…

She would be a Bridgerton.

As she stretched she let out a nervous giggle. She was getting married today. Today!

It was all very surreal.

It has been two days of shopping and running around. Violet had left for Aubrey Hall the morning after Sophie and Benedict got engaged, so the new Lady Bridgerton or Kate as she wanted to be called, had finished her shopping with her.

Sophie had been overwhelmed at it all, all the changes, all the gifts, the clothes. It was all a little much but Kate had understood and helped Sophie through it.

There was a knock on the door, “Sophie?” Violet's voice came from the door “Sophie, dear are you awake?”

Sophie climbed out of bed and threw on the new green robe that Sophie couldn’t help notice, matched Benedict’s and opened the door.

“Oh you, are awake, good. I’ve asked the maids to bring breakfast up for just the two of us and a bath is being drawn in my room for you. I thought you may like some peace away from everyone this morning” Violet beamed at her.

“Thank you Lady… sorry Violet” she blushed “I will get used to that eventually” she laughed softly

Violet took Sophie’s hands “I know you will. It’s been a strange few days for you I am sure” she smiled.

“It has but I could not be happier I assure you” Sophie smiled as she followed Violet next door into her suite.

It wasn’t a full breakfast but enough to see them through to the wedding reception in a few hours.

As Sophie sat down with Lady Bridgerton, Sophie remembered the last time the two of them were alone and instantly felt her cheeks redden as she swallowed “er.. V… Violet?”

“Yes dear?” She said as she poured their tea.

“I… I just wanted to apologise for my rather abrupt leaving… or attempt to leave…” Sophie said

“You need not apologise Sophie. It is quite alright”

Sophie shook her head “no. You had shown me nothing but kindness and accepted me into your family without a thought and it was very rude of me not to give notice. I may not have been brought up a servant originally but manners are manners and I should not have just… left”

Violet smiled at her “Sophie…” she reached out over the table taking Sophie’s hand “when Benedict first brought you home to me… I knew there was something between you, I had no real need for another ladies maid. I kept two out of habit but the girls could have managed, but I saw the two of you… talking or bickering and…”

Violet took a breath “you both reminded me so much of me and My Edmund… it took my breath away. I saw that look in Benedict’s eyes, the same one Anthony has when he looks at Kate… and I just knew… he’d found the right one”

Sophie felt tears in her eyes “really?”

Violet nodded and squeezed her hand “despite that rather hideous dress, I could see you were no maid, no servant… it’s why I brought up upstairs, I wanted to find out who you really were and get to know you… my son’s live charmed lives and I wasn’t sure if he would do something stupid… or Honorable…” Violet laughed

“ I suppose it was both in the end… but Sophie please do not be ashamed, I do not think less of you. I know how charming my sons can be…”

Sophie laughed and nodded, desperately trying to fight back tears.

“Thank you Violet…”

“You need not thank me I speak the truth”

Sophie shook her head “no it’s not just for your words... but for accepting me… not many women of the ton would but you’ve embraced me as one of your own even from day one… and you’ve embraced Posy as well without even a thought… and…” Sophie swallowed

“Thank you for Benedict. He truly is the best man I’ve ever known and a lot of that comes from you. He’s nothing like what he presents to the world and I can only hope to make him half as happy as he has made me… and I want you to know… I…” her voice broke with emotion “I love him so very much. I have from the moment I laid eyes on him and I regret he ever suffered because of me… but I vow to make it up to him”

Violet, usually so stoic, got up and hugged her future daughter in law “oh Sophie. I know you do. It’s evident every time you’re in the same room together. Every little glance you seemed to steal at each other when you thought no one was watching. I saw how he would look for you in the room when he came in…I think that is why I could bring myself to fire you… I had hoped that maybe… if we could uncover your past that it would not be so hopeless… and you could both be happy. You both deserved it… so certainly do” she said softly before adding,”

“ and I am sure they say absence makes the heart grow fonder…” she smiled at Sophie

“Any pain caused I am sure was reciprocated on your part Sophie and as I said that night, you are the sort of woman I would have liked for my Son… Benedict is not like his brothers. He hides it well but he needed some to see him”

Sophie smiled at the memory of that day in his living room… when she’d told him just that and nodded “I love Benedict for who he is… I adore your family but I love him. He could be penniless, he could be a nobody and I would still love him so fiercely”

Violet felt tears running down her face and hugged her soon to be daughter in law tightly “that is why I know you’re perfect for him and though I know you will be moving far away… I know you will be happy together. Benedict will finally be at peace. He hates London” she laughed

Sophie laughed and nodded “yes and you and any of the family are always welcome to come visit. You need not write. It will always be open” she said as she returned the hug, for the first time in her wondering if this was what it was like to have a mother…

An hour later Sophie was bathed and her hair was being styled and put up, rather than a ladies maid, Kate and Posy were assisting dress her. Kate, who had liked to do Edwina’s hair when they were younger, had woven Sophie’s hair into a plait. Sophie had confided in Kate that Benedict liked it when Sophie wore her hair in a plait and had wondered if it was possible to have it in set so that it would be easy for her, or Benedict, as was likely to be the case, to unpick it do it would then fall into the way he loved it best.

Kate had been thrilled to help. Posy was applying the light rouge to Sophie’s lips and cheeks as she was having the final finishing touches to her appearance before pulling on her wedding gown.

Sophie couldn’t believe it when she looked at her face in the mirror, she’d never thought she was ugly, she spent enough time avoiding men to know she was desirable but today, though she still looked like herself, she felt like she looked beautiful, she was almost glowing.

Posy pressed a kiss to Sophie’s cheek, she was to help Hyacinth with the flowers (and to stop Hyacinth punching or hitting Gregory as she had done at Kate’s), Posy had said it was probably more suitable for Kate to help Sophie dress rather than herself, seen as Kate was a married woman.

Kate and Violet had agreed.

Kate and Violet carried through the box that contained Sophie’s completed wedding gown, Sophie had not seen it yet, she suspected that Violet thought she might tell Benedict about it if she had seen it once completed.

As the box opened Sophie gasped, it was the most beautiful dress that she had ever seen, and it was entirely perfect for her and she knew it was entirely to Benedict’s taste.

Sophie wasn’t entirely surprised by that, as she knew of Benedict’s history with Madame Delacroix, he’d told her that they’d stopped seeing one another shortly before he had met Sophie, she’d never been his official mistress, just a “friend”.

The dress was simple, the white lace fell elegantly over the silk, the rose and tulip patterns of the lace covering the top half of the bodice only, then it was plain until the hem… which Sophie recognised instantly a Violet’s handy work, she’d seen Violet working on it many an evening in the few weeks she worked for them.

With tears in her eyes she turned to Violet and beamed “thank you” she said as she let her fingers roam over the hem.

“I told you my dear… from the moment I saw you… I had hope” she grinned “I made one for Kate and for Daphne… they also had tulips but in purple… but I thought red would be more appropriate for you…” Violet said looking at Sophie fondly

Sophie gave a watery smile “they mean true love if I remember?” Violet nodded and Kate grinned.

“Perfect then… and if I recall… they’re what arrived for you shortly after you arrived from Number 5 as well” Kate said happily.

Sophie nodded.

“Shall we get you in this?” Violet asked.

20 minutes later Sophie was in her dress, she had no chemise on so she had tried not to blush as she held onto the front of her dress so as not to reveal her breasts to her very soon to be mother and sister in law…

Once she was in, there was a light knock on the door.

“That better not be Benedict…” Violet said, staring at the door.

Kate laughed “I've already caught him twice trying to sneak up stairs, Anthony has been told to ensure his brother doesn’t try a third time or I was holding him personally responsible… so it is unlikely he will let Benedict back up” as she walked to the door, opening it a little way.

“Oh it’s Simon” Kate said, opening the door to let him in. Simon had offered to give Sophie away as Anthony was attending his brother and Sophie had no one. Sophie had been blown away by his offer and accepted with grace and humility, Simon had shared with her his past with disappointing parents so she felt like she had a kindred spirit in him.

“Oh Sophie you look beautiful” Simon said, as he walked into the room, holding a box. “I know I was meant to meet you downstairs but your future husband is pacing and requested I bring you part of his wedding present in the hope you will wear it” he said.

Sophie rolled her eyes “you are all spending far too much money on me” she said, as she took the box from him “how… how, is he?” she asked apprehensively, her own nerves just starting to take hold as she was now nearly ready.

“Excited, pacing around, Anthony has had to lock him in his study and give him a brandy. He said he can’t wait” Simon grinned, having learnt last night the full extent of what had previously passed between Sophie and Benedict before their engagement even took place, and what had happened in the few days between.

Sophie smiled brightly and turned as she opened the box and gasped.

In the box lay a delicate heirloom ruby, no bigger than Sophie’s little finger nail in the shape of a peardrop, and a small diamond on the top. Kate peered over her shoulder and gasped “oh my… that is beautiful” she sighed.

“It really is…”

Simon looked at the hem of Sophie’s dress “he must have known”

Violet smiled “that necklace belonged to my grandmama…it suits you perfectly my dear”

Kate and Sophie smiled at her and Sophie felt an overwhelming sense of serenity and happiness. She finally had her family…

Kate took the necklace and put it on Sophie “there… now you are perfect…”

Simon offered Sophie her arm “shall we?”

Violet and Kate headed down the stairs leaving Simon alone with Sophie for a few minutes before they would make their own way down.

“How are you feeling?” Simon asked,

“Excited, nervous, a little sick… it’s a strange well of things going on right now” She grinned.

“I can imagine, though I have a feeling I am about to win the bet I have with Benedict’s brother’s on how soon it will be before he tears up seeing you” Simon laughed.

“Really? What did you bet?” Sophie asked

“As soon as he sees you. Colin thinks as the vows, Anthony said he wouldn’t” Simon laughed.

“Let us see shall we?” Sophie said, a little more confidently than she felt but with a nod Simon led her out.

~*~

It felt like the longest few hours of Benedict’s life when he got back to the house, immediately he had tried to sneak upstairs to get a glimpse of his bride but had been caught by Kate and dragged, rather unceremoniously, into the breakfast room by his waistcoat and been scolded.

His mother was missing from breakfast, so he knew he would have been in trouble if he had even stepped foot near Sophie before she met him at the bottom of the aisle.

He picked at his food, managing some eggs but that was about it, he felt his stomach churning with nerves and Anthony chuckled at him, “are you really that nervous brother?”

Benedict shook his head “I am not nervous… anxious maybe but no nerves today… I’ve waited two years to marry Sophie… and knowing it’s only a few more hours, it seems all the more real” he smiled.

Anthony nodded as he took a drink of his own juice “understandable. Mother’s asked for a bath to be drawn for you so once you’re done eating, go bath and then come down to my study, i’ve got that item you requested…”

Benedict didn’t need telling twice, he put down his cup and practically ran from the dining room, ignoring the jibes from his siblings as he took the stairs two at a time.

He paused, Sophie would be in her bath now… “Benedict… if you so much as think about going further up the stairs and anywhere other than your room… I shall make Sophie a widower before she even marries” Kate’s voice floated up the stairs threatening him.

Benedict’s spine stiffened as he turned around and flashed her a grin before he went to bathe.

It was probably the quickest bath Benedict had ever taken, as he washed himself, he did feel a bit gross after being in the summer house last night, so he had washed carefully, they would be leaving for the beach cottage after a little while and some much needed and desired for time alone.

He dressed in his new tailored clothing, his mother had been insistent that he also got a new suit for his wedding and he found himself rather unwilling to argue.

Once dressed he tied his cravat himself, he wanted it easy to remove and it wasn’t always the case when the valet did it for him.

He ran down the stairs. He was practically reverberating with excitement as he made his way into Anthony’s study.

“That was quicker than I expected,” Anthony laughed at him.

“I find myself unable to sit still” Benedict said

“When have you ever…” Anthony laughed

“Point taken but did you get it?” Benedict grinned happily at his brother

“Yes. Mother told me where it was… it is rather stunning” Anthony said, handing his brother the box as he opened it.

“She was the one who suggested it for Sophie. I didn’t want something too flashy or over the top…” Benedict smiled at the box and the back at the door

“No! You’re not going up to give her it… you know it is supposedly bad luck to see the bride before she walks down the aisle and Kate will have my head if you try…” Anthony said pointing a finger warningly at his brother

“But…!”

“Not buts! Simon can take it up when he goes to collect her” he said, his tone brooking no argument and Benedict sighed.

“Fine… please tell her I can’t wait to see her” he said as he handed over the box and Anthony handed him a brandy.

“Drink that please so it calms you down as all your moving around is making me feel a little sick” Anthony said.

Simon left the room leaving the two brothers alone “so how are you feeling?” Anthony asked

“I can’t wait… but I meant what I said last night. In my heart she is already my wife, this is just making it legal before God and country.” Benedict said with a shrug.

“I am really pleased for you Benedict” Anthony said as he refilled his brothers glass “Sophie could not be a better fit for you if we had made her ourselves”

“You mean like Kate is for you?” Benedict teased

Anthony raised his glass “exactly”

Benedict smiled “I am truly very grateful for everything you’ve done for me Anthony… not just for me and Sophie but for being there for me and our siblings...it wasn’t easy for you and I never actually thanked you for it”

Anthony coughed to clear his throat and to hide the sudden swell of emotion from his brother's words “Benedict you don’t have to thank me. We are brothers. If roles had been reversed you would have done the same… hell you and Colin made me see sense about Kate in the end so…”

“Well you were the last one to know” Benedict laughed as he drained his drink.

“I do rather suppose I was” Anthony smiled and leaned over and grabbed the small Boutonniere made of red tulips “mother picked these this morning and sent them for us to wear”

Benedict looked and chuckled “the same ones I sent Sophie…”

“Indeed. Let’s go get you married shall we?” Anthony said with a grin. Benedict nodded with alacrity.

As they came out of the study, their mother and Kate were descending the stairs, both beaming happily. “Well don’t you look handsome” Kate smirked at Benedict as Anthony gave a kiss on the cheek and cleared his throat “as do you dear but it isn’t your wedding day” she rolled her eyes.

Violet smiled brightly at her second son “Oh Benedict I am so pleased you’re finally marrying… and for love, and Sophie is perfectly fine, she loved the necklace before you ask”

Benedict grinned and followed his family through the house to the private chapel on the side of their family estate.

He stood waiting anxiously near the altar, bouncing on his heels and balls of his feet.

“For heaven's sake Benedict, stand still… she will be here in a minute!” Anthony hissed at him as he could hear his family chuckling behind him.

Then the music started, and Benedict felt his heart beating faster as the music started and he heard the rest of the family stand.

He knew he was supposed to wait to turn, he knew he was supposed to wait until Anthony touched him but hearing his niece’s not so quiet whisper of “she looks like an angel!”

Benedict couldn’t wait… he turned and it was like the whole world dissolved and all he could see was her…

His Sophie.

An absolute vision in lace and silk, her green eyes sparkling with tears and happiness as she walked. He felt his own tears in his eyes, he’d never cried in public, but he did not care… he could hardly believe his luck. He could not believe that this beautiful woman, this beautiful kind hearted and good woman was his…

He could see the smirk on Simon’s face, as he saw Sophie walking closer and closer to him. Her smile radiated as she got closer and mouthed “hi” at him.

~*~

Sophie almost felt her heart beating out of her chest as she stood on the other side of the door, Hyacinth though now 14 still wanted to be a flower girl and Sophie loved the idea so let her.

The music started and Sophie was rather pleased, for Simon’s arm as she was sure she was going to pass out with her nerves, or she was sure she would fall and trip as she walked down the aisle to her future, into a family… to Benedict.

Hyacinth walked down in front of Posy and Kate and they set off a few steps later “ready?” Simon whispered to her as she nodded.

Her heart and stomach fluttered with each step she took closer to Benedict, she could see Anthony smiling at him, their two boys standing on the chairs to get a view of them and Edmund waved his hands happily at his new aunt. He had become rather attached to Sophie and was really rather pleased she was marrying his uncle and being her Aunt, he was only two, early 3 so hardly understood but it had warmed Sophie’s heart to know even the children accepted her.

She then heard Ameila, Daphne’s almost 4 year old daughter sigh “she looks like an angel!” Sophie's eyes felt the sparkle of tears as she saw Benedict move, his slow turn, she knew he was supposed to wait, but he obviously couldn’t and the moment her green eyes met his…

Sophie hardly remembered any other detail of the ceremony.

She remembered mouthing “Hi” to him as Simon placed her hands in Benedict’s.

She remembered him whispering “you look so beautiful” as he lifted her veil.

She remembered saying words back to the vicar, her eyes never leaving Benedict’s, his hand on hers, she could feel their pulses entwining and beating as one as he slid her glove off her arm, the move so seductive it remembered her of when he removed her stockings all those weeks ago…

She remembered the flush that crept on her cheeks as Benedict gave her the lopsided smirk that caused her stomach to churn and flop and her heart to almost skip a beat… a promise of what was to come.

She remembered the feel of the ring sliding into place on her left hand, binding her to him forever, as if they hadn’t already been bound to one another for the last two years. She remembered the squeeze of his hand as the ring nestled in place, its new home, never to leave her finger.

She remembered the words “I now pronounce you husband and wife… you may…” and then the feel of Benedict’s hand on her waist, pulling her closer to him and his lips on hers, a soft and loving kiss, if Sophie had her wits about her, she would have been embarrassed as it was in front of his family but she felt revered, she felt loved, she was home…

She heard the whistling and a cough from Anthony which caused them to part, Sophie saw as she looked up blushing that Kate was the one that was doing the raunchous whistling, completely undignified for a Viscountess, but Violet next to her looked amused as did two other women, who looked so like the Bridgerton siblings, all looked very amused, and all had tears in their eyes.

The reception was a blur, there weren't many people there, Violet had kept it strictly family and as they were at their country seat, there were not many people there. Daphne and Simon were to throw them a proper party in a few weeks after their honeymoon in London to present the world to the new Mr and Mrs Bridgerton.

Benedict did not let go of her hand throughout the festivities. He had led her over to his Aunt and Uncle, the Earl and Countess of Manston.

“Aunt Billie, Uncle George, can I present my wife, Sophie Bridgerton… Sophie this is my aunt and uncle, the Earl and Countess of Manston” Benedict had said proudly as Sophie curtiesed.

“It is wonderful to meet you,” Sophie said brightly.

Billie smiled warmly at Sophie “Was Violet correct in telling me that you punched Lady Penwood?”

Sophie went red but nodded “She was”

“Oh my dear, you will do very well… these boys need a firm hand” she said with an affectionate pat on Benedict’s cheek which caused Sophie to laugh

“Come off it Darling, it’s his wedding day, surely you can not tease the poor boy for one day” George said brightly.

“It’s okay Uncle George, this is not as bad as my brother’s have put me through today and yesterday”

“Yes we had heard about your lack of brains boy” Billie grinned at her nephew.

But Benedict was saved by answering by a loud cry of “AUNT SOPI!!!” and a small figure launching themselves onto Sophie’s skirts.

“Ned!” Kate yelled after her eldest son…

“Sorry about him!” Kate as she bustled over to the group.

George roared with laughter “Oh he is so much like his father…”

“If I recall he did the same at another wedding,” Billie laughed as the two turned and took their leave to deal with the clingy two year old

Sophie smiled and turned to Edmund “What is it Ned?” she asked softly as she leant down and picked the boy up and rested him on her hip.

Benedict’s eyes watched happily as she spoke softly to his nephew, his brain taking him in the future and her doing the same with their son or daughter.

“Papa said you and uncy Benni are going soon!!” he sniffled, his little bottom lip quivering as his eyes were full of tears.

Benedict smiled at his nephew. Edmund had become rather attached to Sophie in the last few days and it was amusing to watch him chase after her around the house, watching her play with him and reading to him.

“Ah… well yes… Me and your uncle Ben are going to go on a little trip but we will come back and see you very soon… and we will bring you a present and” she said tickling him lightly “i think we are going to come stay with you for a little while, do you think you would like that?”

He sniffled and wiped his snotty nose on his sleeve and nodded “what present?” he asked, his little eyes wide.

Kate laughed at her son “he is absolutely his father… priorities…”

“Where is he?” Benedict asked.

“Getting the carriages sorted, it is a bit of a drive so he assumed you would want to leave soon” Kate grinned at the newlyweds, who blushed.

“Well it will be a surprise but I promise it will be a very good present and we shall have story time when I come back, but you have to be a good boy for you mama do you understand…?” Sophie smiled

“And Papa?” he asked.

Sophie leaned in and whispered conspiritorially “only if your mama asks you to be a good boy for him”

Kate and Benedict heard and both snorted with laughter as Edmund beamed and Sophie put him down on the floor and he ran off after his cousins…

Benedict and Sophie spent the next hour taking their leave and then they were finally alone, in their carriage heading towards their honeymoon, and a week’s peace for just the two of them.

Once out of the gates and on the main roads, Benedict leaned in and kissed her softly “How are you feeling my darling wife?”

Sophie giggled “I am feeling… very happy” she smiled as Benedict’s hand cupped her face “very grateful and very much in love with my husband” she said leaning back in and kissing him.

“Well that is a stroke of good luck as I am feeling very much in love with my wife” he grinned “you look so beautiful in your dress… the necklace looks stunning with it” he said toying with it.

“You spoil me” she said,

“You’re my wife… you're mine to spoil if I should choose to do so” he grinned “and it’s a family heirloom, you are a Bridgerton now…so you should have family jewels” he smiled as he pulled her closer to him.

“I like the sound of that,” she said.

“Of what my love” he said, entwining her left hand with his and playing with her ring.

“Being yours” she sighed happily.

“You’re mine... “ he whispered pressing a kiss to her neck “you’re mine to love… mine to spoil… mine to have a family of our own with… and mine to cherish and protect”

Sophie felt herself shiver happily “Oh Benedict… I have never felt such love… such happiness and I don’t think I have ever felt safer than in your arms”

“Well my love…” he said, wrapping her closer into his arms “you will never not be in these arms… and never know anything but love and devotion from here on out… never have to worry about a thing ever again” he said, pressing a loving kiss into her brow, as the gentle rocking of the carriage lulled them into a light slumber as they headed towards their future… together.

[0aurelion-sol0]

SNK 134: Why we need to move forward.

Well...

That's horrifying...

Oh but whatever they are probably bad people in there. Thieves, greedy people, hateful mothers, men who beat their wives , liars, bullies, killers, murderers, rapist, child rapist and racist babies.

Yeah...

This is a rhetoric that has been used for ages and is currently being used in this fandom especially on reddit and 4chan.

The justification of injustice.

When George Floyd was slammed on the ground and died because he couldn't breathe anymore, conservatives and republicans at large ignored the police brutaliy leading up to that.

He was just a cocaine or drug addict who one day pointed a gun at a pregnant lady. So he was a criminal and deserved that.

Of course ignoring the racial segregation that happened from the very legalized slavery hundreds of years ago and how poor and racially stigmatized black people are being in America right now.

When the Uyghurs are being genocided by China, the world blinds itself because China is one the worlds necessary assets in economy as it basically produces a good chunk of what is being used in the world. Most made by children, " but it makes us live "... Apparently that's the only logical reason...

When Palestinians and Israelis are literally killing each other over some complicated non sense that no one ever really understands and also Israël basically doing Apartheid at this point,

When the totality of the Middle East has turned into a warzone because of the United States's violent imperialism,

When most far right or extremist group decided that Islam and Islamic terrorism are the same thing,

When xenophobes and racist always attack immigration,

"If she wasn't wearing that skirt, she probably wouldn't have been raped",

When we have homophobes, transphobes, LGBTphobes, telling us what's natural and always bragging about "\___-_-___/ God, Holy Jesus",

When you have people who tells you that poor people chose their way of living when there are a small percent of billionaires and soon to be trillionaires having such a gigantic amount of wealth,

When 6 millions Jews were genocided which was 40% of Jewish people at the time and 2/3 of European Jews,

When the prime minister of Israël is saying that the Holocaust wasn't Hitler's Idea but Haj Amin al-Husseini, (who was extremely anti semitic, don't get me wrong)who suggested it to him maiking the prime minister a revisionist but at the same time making his actions against Palestinians justified,

When around the world Christianic places of worship are being vandalized,

When entire SYSTEMS of segregations have made societies work,

When the South American continent has been attacked by the United States because of different political beliefs,

When people use their rape as a way to attack other communities of a specific religion or color,

When Black Panthers uses racism against White people because of the story of USA and are being anti semitic but essentializing a whole group,

When Nationalistic Israelis tells you what is a good Jew and what isn't a good Jew,

When dozens of groups have been forced to extinction,

Natives who were being murdered, yeah? YOU DON'T SEE THAT A LOT IN YOUR COWBOY MOVIES ?

When literal "feminist" calls for the destruction of men while they can't educate the kids about what to do and what not to do, OH, can also be transphobic apparently,

When you have entire websites who encourages pedophilia,

And pedophiles killed, left alone and live a life of endless torment while no one does nothing to help them and fight those who encourages it even in the highest places of our society,

Oh and Hollywood, that's all I need to say.

And let's not even talk about animal brutality and the destruction of ecosystems.

And there is more and more and more and more and more and FUCKING MORE,

All that because of reasons, reasons, reasons, reasons,

All stuck in a cycle of hate, violence and discrimination that just never ends.

The selfishness,

The greed,

And at end, everything is meaningless. There is just blood.

This is what this chapter represent the meaningless of it all. How everything goes to shit...

How everyone, whether it's the oppresor or the oppresed, will justify the violence, the injustice.

Society does nothing cause society right now runs for the entitled and the entitled only and creates it's own monsters.

I want to ask those people who defend the rumbling.

After everything we saw in this manga, after what the real world has commited, after how much these real events have inspired this story, how can you say it was the only way ?

After everyone hided Hange valuable informations including Eren who had information about KRUGER who was a spy in MARLEY. Who has created a civil war in Eldia and activated the rumbling while killing Eldian civilians in the way.

After seeing the mental breakdown of Bertolt, who we don't hear about anymore, Annie and Reiner's mental breakdown over GENOCIDING AN ENTIRE GROUP OF PEOPLE, by the way Reiner totally didn't develop another persona at that time to cope with what he was doing, HUH ?

After all the deaths, Carla, Grisha, Dina, Faye Marco, Levi's squad, Ymir, Erwin, Sasha, Hange, Hannes, Floch and many others, how can you go and be like "CHAD EREN, BEING DADDY, FUCKING HIS MEAT WAIFU, PHILOSOPHER FREEDOM SEEKER"

"104th crybabies... xDdDDDD Prfrpfr"

Come on...

This isn't serious at this point.

And for the H character, we're gonna come back for her but...

GODDAMNIT!

THANK YOU, DEATH.

This has sparked debates.

Some are thankful for this speech by the commander.

Others are finding it disingenous.

Others think it's too on the nose and not natural.

Others don't care.

On my part, I enjoy it but I take it with the context. Most of their airships have been destroyed and they are facing their doom upfront right now. It's more of a death plea at this point. Just like in the cave with Histor... GOD IT'S SO HARD SAYING HER NAME... with Historia who said truly horrible things at the point of an imminent death. At that moment, words like this can tell what you really are inside but even that is not enough to have a full picture.

It did have some interesting elements.

It is true, using, raising, breeding hate and shoving problems upon a group will always come bite you up the ass someday.

Marley in their extensive and violent coloniaslistic, imperialiatic behavior towards Eldia creates only weaknesses for them on an international field and create this monstruosity that is right now Eren.

Eren, a soldier who suffer from trauma and PTSD, who has terrible insecurities and everything to lose after losing so much and possibly in my book being influenced by another entity decides to kill them all.

But...

In no way does that justify Eren's actions, in fact it goes against it.

He is just as angry and hateful as they were back then but instead of destroying the system, he decides to genocide.

Essentializing the whole world as your ennemy and problem, and deciding to get rid of it is just continuing what has been started and continued for hundreds of years before.

No one ever thinks about the simple families, the innocent children, the homeless...

What about them Eren ?

What about the people who faced discrimination like Ramzi ?

What about the other groups that are almost extinct just like yours ?

What about the groups that tried to support the Eldians but were considered freaks ? HUH ?

What about the babies and innocent children ?

Isayama is even spelling it out for you this chapter.

Is he not worth it ? To stop all this ?

He was born into this world just like every other baby.

Look at that while everyone, is trying to jump off, their trying to save the baby. Even if it's probably impossible. That's humanity right there.

And... jesus christ...

I literally saw people who said that the mother was dumb to give it to the people because titans were behind them.

I can't even...

Imagine if Eren is the daddy of H's Baby and that he completes the genocide, killing his friends or even persuading them and at the end he is saying you are free to this baby.

So this baby is worth more than this baby ?

He is more legitimate to live than him.

I can't even imagine what the arguments would be like with the Eren stans:

"He's protecting his friends."

While literally challenging them to fight and right now trying to kill them.

"Well, you know the Rumbling is horrible but they got what was coming for them. They did nothing to help Paradise."

While forgetting the complexity of human nature, how banalization of these acts of violence have come to be BECAUSE...

These just like me and you are just simple people. With simple lives and not too much power who can't do anything about it.

Most of the people today sees all the suffering in the world, they just don't have the power, nor the will to go against such complex geo-political conflicts.

Would you be able to just resolve the Israelo-Palestinian conflict ? I don't think so, so shut your ass down with this argument.

These people can't change the world with power that they have and the one that has the power to change that, is killing them right now. BRAVO.

" Well, uh, the child is a child, parents might be racist and uh... child maybe is racist or will become racist..."

God...

Just because someone has done horrible shits or is an horrible shit doesn't mean he should die like this.

Here it is people, how we work as human :

Fuck redemption and possible solutions, let's kill everyone who did something bad.

Y'all would have been perfect during monarchies time.

And like... having an argument on a baby should face genocide is just fucking disgusting.

AND DON'T GIVE ME THE BULLCRAP OF FICTION DOESN'T EQUAL REALITY!

That you are interested into what could bring the Rumbling in terms of thematics and story is fine.

BUT ENDORSING IT ?

Do y'all even hear yourselves sometimes ?

You just sound like every racist, bigoted, fascist and violent person that has ever existed.

You're just excited to see someone die because he commited something wrong, sadistic pricks.

You're no different. Perhaps the guy who was talking to Grisha in chapter 97, who was a Marleyan and gave serums to Eldian is right. When he was talking to Grisha, Isayama use it to break the fourth wall and talk to the readers.

Why do we watch this, all this violence ?

" Because it's fun!"

" People take peace for granted!"

" Of course we're abnormal in society's eyes."

" We wish to exterminate all eldians!"

" Your sister did nothing wrong. Shame she was an Eldian!"

The fun fact is that this guy is a racist fuck but he dies pushed by Kruger and killed by his very own creation: a titan.

Why do people endorse genocide ?

" Because it's justice!"

" They got what was coming for them!"

" Isayama is just showing us that genocide is not really wrong if you just understand the concept of morals. Puritans."

" Humanity can die, they deserve it!"

" I'm sad for Ramzi, he didn't do nothing wrong but you know... maybe he didn't have good ideas about Eldians."

While also saying why children could deserve genocide. \____@-@____/

Of course I found most of these on Reddit and 4chan, the nazi propaganda website. Tumblr is a little free of it.

Babies....

Literally babies...

That remind me of somethin'...

OH YEAH!

QUEER NO MORE.

*put gloves on*

PUUUUUUUSSHH!!! COOOOOOOMMEEE OOONN!!!!

Breathe...

I SEEEEE THE HEAAADDD, IT'S HEREEEEEE!!!!

Natalie, bring the bucket, quick!

Of fuck she shitted on herself a little bit!

_________________________________________

So ?

Y'all like my fanfic ?

It's about how Erehisu is canon and how Historia is actually thinking about Eren right now because she is blushing.

But also about how Historia actually looks good and sexy while being pregnant and how she looks so happy!

She also is a lesbian that turned straight.

I'm so proud of my work.

_________________________________________

In all honesty...

This is... dissapointing and an insult to Historia fans. Why ? What is the purpose or the reason ? Being tragic ? To show how far Historia can go to protect her loved ones ? A female Eren so ?

I always leaned towards the fake pregnancy even if I don't know how something like that could be really pulled. I didn't understand this choice for his storytelling. The others I understand but this one...

O_o

What the fuck ?

So she really is pregnant ? But nothing leading up to it makes sense.

The character whose thematics still rings too much true for this arc is put in the background and as a breeding farm on top of that.

It even came to a point I started people to stop asking about her.

I had faith in her presence in the final arc. That she would have a role play.

But now ?

/\/\/\

For people who don't understand why this aspect of story is wrong, we have to break it down.

First off, Historia one of the first queer characters with Ymir in SNK. Others are suspected but these two are the few that holds a definitive representation as queer.

Most often in media or in real life, LGBT people have been forced into a situation that requires them to fall under heterosexuals lives. Here Historia is forced to be pregnant, yes in a way she agreed because of her people, but at the same time she didn't really want it.

For queer people, like me, this still rings true. Too much true. People literally forces you to go for your opposite sex everytime, to have a family.

No, stop forcing your view of your own life or desire of life on other people.

The fact that the fandom rationalizes that and says that she is happy and in love with Eren is just so fucking weird.

It either is blind ship following, heteronormativity or not understanding the story.

And I saw people saying she might be bisexual. This doesn't change anything. Also ignoring the fact that she hasn't shown any attraction to men other than women in the story.

If she is bisexual, it doesn't change anything, she is still queer. Not semi-straight AND EVEN IF SHE WAS A WOMAN WHO HAPPENED TO BE STRAIGHT, SHE IS STILL FORCED INTO SOMETHING SHE DID NOT WANT.

Bisexual is not semi-straight, semi-gay.

It's bisexual.

Bisexual, Straight and Homosexuality are not the same thing.

And if she was straight, that doesn't make it acceptable. It's just sick.

Just because you're a straight woman doesn't mean you are going to be more happy or have god like duty to have kids.

I just don't understand it...

A manga who was so progressive with his female characters reduces Historia to this.

Imagine...

Just imagine...

Eren is the father. I would shoot myself in the face. A forced straight relationship at the end for the pleasure of shonen readers and heteronormative readers.

" What if I have baby, Eren ?"

" Only if it is from me. I want him to live and have FREEDOM!"

" It's open bar, honey." *saying this after hearing the guy says he's going to genocide which goes against her own values and actions as queen*

Ew... Just ew...

And even worse she wasn't supposed to give birth right now, she was supposed to give birth in a few months.

She could DIE. SHE IS 19. This is dangerous.

Everyone is like this is normal.

THIS IS NOT NORMAL. *sigh*

This goes against what she is supposed to have as a character development.

The fact that she would be okay for genocide while as a queen she reached out to the most weak and in need is fucking incoherent.

No. This doesn't make sense. Even Eren said that Historia's action as a queen were to help others. How could she be okay sitting at her house ? Telling no one about what Eren was going to do ? And becoming a breeding farm ? What is the logic in that ?

Why make it suspicious than ?

The only thing that was able to make any logical sense to me was that the person we are seeing here isn't Historia.

I know if my theory is right, it's sick, even more sick.

The only times we saw Historia after the timeskip was during flashbacks, the reveal at 107 and possibly at the end of 123.

If this is her at the end of 123, I want to ask you why is she all prepared, why is she all dressed up and why is she wearing the same clothes in 134 that she is wearing 107. Something doesn't add up.

She is young, small-petite, blonde and her belly and face are hidden.

I was only able to go through the theory that this is a fake Historia. Than who it is than ?

Well, I searched for female characters who look like her or who could look like Historia right now. From all the characters that we haven't seen coming coming back and that has interacted with Historia, there is only one.

Rico Brzenska.

For those, who don't remember her : She was a Garrison Member who helped Mikasa and Eren during the Trost Arc and also helped Historia while she was exhausted during the Clash of the Titans Arc.

She hasn't appeared ever since the start of the Return to Shiganshina Arc unlike many of the older characters.

She is the only one I see who could pass as Historia I think.

I know this is still sick. But this is the only way I would be able to make Historia get out of this crappy storyline and play some relevance in the story. And if we look at Rico and Historia in 107, they kinda look the same. They have the heart shaped face, they are both small and they both have this sort of closed eyelids.

One line that just stuck with me of Rico was:

"Hiding/Lying about Eren's rampage in the report wouldn't have benefited humanity. "

This was during Eren's trial before joining the Survey Corps. What was discused was when Eren lost control of himself during the Trost Arc and attacked Mikasa.

The second line that struck was the one where she holds Historia who is exhausted in her arms:

"Wow! Who is this girl, is she okay ?"

I don't know why it just pushed that theory. And I kinda believe it now, because no one can make me believe that there is something satisfying coming out of this. Why would she sacrifice herself for Historia ? Well, I don't really know but Rico was always a little wary of Eren, even after the Trost Arc but yeah ultimately for Rico being able to give her own life for Historia. I don't know about that. But with this manga you never now. It is a very dark and twisted theory but this is the only logical thing I can see right now since no answers have been provided.

Monkey is BACK

Zeke is back and like most of us predicted, Eren dragged him with him. And I'm not gonna lie, the way he was attached to the spine was pretty badass.

He is used as a puppet which reinforces the theory for me that all three of them: Eren, Ymir and Zeke are being used by the Attack Titan.

I cannot understand Eren's illogical behavior especially after seeing the train scene where he says he wants them to live long happy lives and than having him kill his friends.

Ymir the first being free and having eyes to returning to having no eyes just like before and Eren.

And Zeke would have never agreed to the Rumbling. And we can't see his eyes either.

And...

Thank you, 104th for existing.

Because...

After how much shit they have gone through and after how much the fandom, not just the Eren stans, have mocked them. Like the fandom has been the biggest asshole to the the Alliance while they were the ones who were able to survive through the sentence " Genocide is wrong!" that so many people seems to find to be so hard to say.

I will root for them until the bitter end, I don't care. They are the one who are fighting. You can call Cringevengers all you want but I am glad they are winning.

They all suffered like Eren but they didn't prioritize their own and only feelings above everything else and they stood by for the values they fought for since they joined the Survey Corps. Even if I have to admit they have, for most of them, conflicted feelings with what they were doing and have done things like trying to talk to Eren while it's obvious he wasn't going to talk and that in a situation like this I don't think someone would try to stop Eren by just talking.

Levi, and it would be foolish to not recognize it, is being consumed by his promise but he is restraining it and still is able to think about the bigger picture.

There's one thing I really like about this is Armin asking Eren:

"Eren... I'll ask you one last time... "What part of you is free" after we rip you out from there... "

Hehe... yes... what part of you is free ?

To be honest, there's many things I don't want for the ending.

A Lelouch Ending, it was all Eren's plan. Literally wouldn't make sense. No one would be questionning his free will and he wouldn't have these weird shits happening to him.

A Code Geass ending, why would Mikasa have to kill Eren, what does that add to her as a character ? More tragedy ? No she doesn't have the scarf, it's pretty telling what place she's at right now.

Eren being the daddy. NO, JUST NO.

Everyone dies, genocide is the right thing. You know all the worst shit that can happen.

But most of all I want important plot points to be explored and moved over because ever since the timeskip, there has been no important plot points out the way. Eren's behavior, Ackertalk, Bertolttalk, Historia's Condition, Paths stuffs, answers!

Whatever... Trust me Peace is not something I take for granted. Being proud of myself and having a life with the least conflict and problem is something you fight for. Having rights, being recognized as a human.

Never lose that, fight for it. But never with injustice, be smarter and stronger. Cause at the end what unites us is not only what we have in common but what the perspective of what we have not in common can make a bigger picture of what we are as humans. We all are different and have a different story with similarities but in the end, we are human and born into this world. And in that, we must move forward. In the present, because of the past and for the future.

We all wish for the problems to go away but if it's for the solutions to be rigged with injustice, it will not work. No one has acheived with genocide and never will.

It's kinda sad that this long of a post has to say this. Did y'all see that ? Pretty inspiring what I wrote. Oh well you know what ? If they can be bigoted why can't I myself.

Here's a song I wrote:

(Fuck everyone and you.

We hate women

There are only 2 genders, the breeder and the breeded.

Everything is degenerate.

We hate brown, Arab and Muslim people.

Genocide is cool

And Hitler was too.)

I know but you know what, at least if they want a spy for Nazi Germany someday. They'll know not to give it to me because I'd laugh at the stupidity of the people just like you and I are doing with the rest of world cause for all the shits it gives us, it's entertaining.

[blooddrop-palace]

96 with reader and Vergil pls

Thank you for the submission! I thought about this all day at work, trying to decide what my approach to this prompt would be... and settled with this. I hope it turns out good! (Also this definitely got away from me and turned into something bigger.)

Some context: Post DMC5, after Dante and Vergil have crawled their way out of hell, and just enough months or something have passed to where everyone isn’t a giant emotional mess, and Vergil is somewhat adjusted. 

96. “Please get me away from him. He hasn’t left me alone all night and I am this close to committing a murder.”

It was roughly midnight, an hour before last call. Surprisingly, the number of patrons at the bar today was... sparse. So, after a while of neglect, you decided to check your phone. 

There was a collection of unread text messages. From an unknown number. You felt a little baffled as you read through them; the time stamps said that the first message was from 24 minutes ago:

23:23 >Nicoletta

23:29 >Nicoletta I understand you had given us this number nearly three months ago And I understand this is not the best opening message But I must request you pick me up from devil may cry

23:34 >Nicoletta I am in need of an excuse to leave the shop and even if I must endure your driving I would rather hunt down weak demons and pay you back in demon parts than to endure the rest of this night

23:38 >Dante has managed to inebriate himself into a terrible mess

23:44 >Please get me away from him.

23:46 >He has not left me alone all night and I am this close to committing a murder.

23:47 >Which I understand may not be a surprising turn of events for everyone else. But I do not need to give Nero a reason to permanently change my status to deceased.

So, someone clearly had the wrong number, because your name was not Nicoletta, and you did not know a Nicoletta. You do, however, know a Dante. And of Devil May Cry. And you know you had left a phone number for Devil May Cry before, hastily written on a napkin, for the purpose of contact regarding a singular incident of being stalked by demons. 

You would never want to repeat that experience again. 

You do give Dante small discounts for drinks when he shows up, almost always with his friends Lady and/or Trish. 

Once, he had brought in a barely-legal-to-drink young man by the name of Nero. Most likely a relative. It was probably one of the more entertaining set of patrons you got to serve throughout the years. 

So, this stranger got the wrong phone number from the shop. You supposed this “Nicoletta” must be someone Dante and Nero both knew. This stranger also seemed to not understand how punctuation worked. Or perhaps they didn’t know how to operate their phone or something, since they apparently discovered punctuation later.

And the only thing you could tell from these messages is that the stranger must be a hunter as well.

You should probably set some things straight, and maybe, being the helpful bartender you were, offer some advice:

>>Good evening! I’m afraid I’m not Nicoletta, and you have the wrong phone number.  >>However, there should be nothing stopping you from leaving your drunk companion to his own devices by leaving for a stroll? >>It may be more preferable than enduring this Nicoletta’s driving?

The response didn’t come in until 00:02, and the response was... something...

00:02 >My sincerest apologies for having bothered you. I seem to have found the wrong medium by which I thought Nicoletta had written her contact information on. My brother is hardly the most organized person in existence even when he is sober. I will need to put forth more effort to find the correct phone number if I am to escape my brother’s drunken antics tonight. Your concern for my situation is touching, but I’m afraid it’s more of an issue of needing to reassure Dante the next morning that I had not simply left without a trace. Vexing. I will return to searching for Nicoletta’s phone number post haste. Have a good evening. 

Whoa whoa. What? First of all, this stranger is certainly a character. You had thought the previous messages were a little stilted and awkward to begin with, but that giant paragraph definitely gave away major awkward energy. You’re fairly certain even your grandparents wouldn’t write like that. 

Second, if you’re reading the context correctly, you have been messaged by... Dante’s sibling? You also never struck Dante as the type of man who would fuss over a companion being gone for a few hours overnight, but Dante had to be the most tight-lipped drinker to ever grace your bar counter. You knew very little about him when compared to your other regulars. 

Well, well. Dante didn’t owe you anything but you had something called curiosity. Besides, maybe you could save someone from their sibling’s drunk episode. 

>>Dante is your brother? >>Well, how rude of him to not introduce us. I’ve met Lady, Trish, and Nero already.  >>Tell you what, let me save the day: Dante can live with the idea of you visiting his favorite bartender, no? (And I do say so myself, since why else would he bring his compatriots here?) >>Leave him a note. Tell him you’re going to (Y/N)’s bar. You don’t have to drink anything but if you want something, it’s on me today.

Last call might be in less than an hour, but you knew how close Devil May Cry was to your establishment. 

Besides, your business, your rules. you could easily close up shop, grab a few bottles, and have a friendly drink instead of selling/serving. That’s one reason why you said it was your treat. 

A response finally came back:

>Anything might be more preferable to Dante’s presence right now. I will take you up on that offer, (Y/N).

So you gave him the address and directions. The last message you received back was:

>Dante insists I bring him with me upon hearing where I was going. That will not come to pass. I will arrive shortly. 

At 00:18, you had already bid good night to the last customer, leaving your establishment empty. At 00:22, you watched someone walk past your windows, to the door of your establishment. The bell jingled as your new customer opened the door to step in, and you felt surprise rise up as you now have a face to associate your stranger with:

Dante’s brother was undeniably related to him, and this solidified a thought in the back of your mind that Nero was indeed a relative, too. But many of this stranger’s features, though similar to Dante’s, were marked by a wary sternness. You can immediately tell just how Dante would be getting under his brother’s skin: Dante was boisterous and free-spirited. This man was anything but. 

“(Y/N).” He nodded politely at you. 

“That’s me. And might I get to know the name of my new customer?” You smiled, more than just your customer service face. 

“...Vergil.”

“Poetic.” You commented. You could recognize a reference to the Divine Comedy when you heard one. “Come. Sit. I don’t bite. So just relax a bit. I won’t doubt that Dante can be exasperating, though I have never seen him drunk before. Should I count my blessings that he did not grace my counters with his inebriated state?”

“Very.”

You reacted with your brand of amusement at how deadpan Vergil was. “Well, anything you’d like to drink? If you haven’t been turned away by the idea of alcohol tonight by your brother.”

“I haven’t partaken often, but anything might be better than the cheap beer Dante has around his shop.” There was a scowl in that tone. The distaste might have run deeper than just for the antics of tonight. 

You worked a job that entails learning all sorts of stories by those who deign to grace you with them. And you will admit, though you are never forceful, you are full of curiosity. 

Maybe Vergil would be willing to complete a picture for you, of the associates of the Devil May Cry. But for that to even remotely be possible, you knew one thing’s for certain:

You’ll need to become this one’s favorite bartender. 

Picking out a staple recipe from the list in your head, you began reaching for the vodka and tomato juice. 

It’s time to work your magic: this wouldn’t be the first ice-cold customer you’ve softened. Besides, they say a good drink can warm your soul. 

“Then how about we start with a Bloody Mary?”

[wienerbarnes]

Hot Chocolate

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,543

Warnings: Mentions of murder and apple pie

A/N: a ha ha heres another lil one shot of these two! send in requests for this pairing if yall got ideas! 

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“Excuse me, Miss? Someone ordered this for you, it seems like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer. Anyways, enjoy.”

The waiter places down a slice of delicious apple pie down in front of you with a smile, obviously thinking there was more to this dessert than Bucky finding out where you’ve been. You glance at the cinnamon-sugar syrup that pours out of the sides of the slice, the glazed apples smelling like heaven as they hit your nostrils. Without touching it, you slowly turn your body from the high stool you’re sitting on and scan the room, eyes passing over every head in the room before landing on a black hood.

Back facing you, the black hood takes a sip of whatever is in their mug before placing it back down on the saucer, a black glove gently letting go of the handle as it makes it’s landing. 

Now who’s the one guy I know that wears gloves like that in public?

Pie in hand, you make your way over to the small booth Bucky has for himself before taking a seat across from him.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Looks like a piece of pie to me, doll. Why, you find a hair in it or something?”

You roll your eyes to the back of your head and push a hand through greasy hair with a deep sigh. 

“How did you find me here?”

“You know I did this for, like, eighty years, right?”

Bucky slides the sunglasses off his face and places them on the table next to his tea in order to see you better. You’re a blonde now. And it seems you’ve gotten more piercings as you have a few extra studs on your ears than he remembers. A denim jacket hangs on your frame on top of the long sleeve shirt you got from his apartment the night he stitched you up. 

He won’t lie, Bucky’s definitely been looking for you. And you do a great job of hiding yourself. It took him about two months of extensive research, only to find you in this diner-slash-bookstore(?) on accident while he was taking a break.

Through his research, though, he did find out a lot more about you. Information besides what he learned from your criminal file.

You lived with your grandparents until the age of fourteen when they passed away. You lived with someone named Kathleen Grover, who was listed as a “family friend” on any legal documents concerning your guardianship. You dropped out of high school at age fifteen before applying for a pre-marine program. At age eighteen, you started your career as a marine before going missing in action after two years. There’s a large, blank time frame there, but Bucky can guess that’s when your Hydra career began. Probably not so different from him. Kidnapped, tortured to comply, committing crimes until you were eventually caught. With his math, you’re about twenty-eight now. 

Most twenty-eight-year-old’s are married. Planning for kids. Building their career. Buying houses. But instead you’re sitting across from him in his shop, looking very angry at the slice of pie he bought you.

This shop isn’t far from the fresh market he first saw you at after your escape. About two hours from his apartment, but about ten minutes from what used to be Kathleen Grover’s address. She’s since passed away, under mysterious circumstances, he might add, but it was a start to finding where you’d be. 

You’ve been away from society for almost a decade, so it’s only natural to try to go somewhere familiar. From what he read, he doesn’t imagine you did much traveling in your teen years.

“Anything else I can get for you two?” The waiter interrupts Bucky’s thoughts. 

“Hot chocolate for the lady, please.” Bucky orders without taking his eyes off you. The waiter gives a short nod and walks off to put in the drink.

“So, what is it you want?” You finally ask, after giving in the sweet scent of the pie in front of you and placing a spoonful into your mouth.

“Who says I want anything?”

“Why else would you have come all the way out here to find me?”

Why did he come all the way out here to find you? Absolutely no one at the tower nor the FBI are any closer to finding where you’ve hid yourself. They assumed the first thing you’d do was find a flight out here so they've been searching country after country to find you when you have been in their backyard the entire time. Smart on your part, but probably accidental seeing as you have no way to get out of here anyway. He’s not here to ask you any favors, he doesn’t need anything done for him, so why did he come all the way here?

“I-” 

“Hot chocolate?”

A young woman holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate awaits confirmation. You give a shy smile and hold out your hands to receive the drink. As soon as your fingertips reach the saucer the waitress is holding, a loud gasp escapes your body and you flinch harshly, causing the mug to fly out of both your hands and crash on the ground. 

“Oops! I’m so sorry about that! Let me clean this up and I’ll get another drink for you, on the house! Sorry again!” The waitress frantically rushes away to get a mop.

Bucky looks at you to see your eyes wide and lips turned into a frown. He glances down at your hands that are tucked towards the center of your chest to see them shaking. He listens closely and hears your heart beating a mile a minute.

“What just happened?” Bucky asks, voice low yet curious. His question seems to snap you out of your thoughts as you jump once more and meet his eyes.

“Nothing. Nothing just happened. In fact, I gotta go.” You push your hands through your hair once more, clearly stressed about the broken mug.

“Did you see something? Just now? When you touched the mug, you saw something.” Bucky concludes.

You don’t respond as the waitress returns and begins cleaning up the mess on the floor. 

“What did you see?” Bucky whispers, desperate to hear about what’s troubling you.

“That girl- she-she, uh,” You stutter. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” You quickly stand and make your way towards the door. 

Bucky stands as well and struggles to get his wallet out of his pocket. When he finally gets it out he throws a few bills on the table before rushing after you to catch up. After coming out through the door, he looks up and down the sidewalk to see no sign of you.

“Fuck.” Bucky mumbles to himself. 

Nowhere on the sidewalk. Not across the street. Where the fuck did you go? Bucky reaches his right hand up to rub the crease in his forehead between his eyes roughly before making his way back to where he parked his bike on the street.

Fucking idiot, you couldn’t just pay attention? God, it was thirty seconds that you took your eyes off her and now she’s gone for who knows how long this time. Now what are you-

A folded napkin tucked into the curve of his bike handle catches his attention. He takes it out of the crease and opens it to see an address with tomorrow’s date on it. 

Is your way of letting him in? On your own terms? Maybe you see he’s not a threat to you, but you probably don’t fully trust him yet. Bucky smiles and tucks the napkin into his front pocket and swings his leg over to mount the bike.

For someone who has such a fucked up past, this is a huge step. You’re a lot more forgiving than he was when he was getting back into having a life. Braver, too.

Bucky’s ride home is long, but not miserable with the warmth of that napkin in his pocket.

…

Later that night, Bucky gives loving scratches to Alpine who purrs on his chest. He flips through channels with his free hand when a familiar face catches his eye.

Bucky goes back to the channel to see the news and he sits up quickly with a gasp.

“Young Amy Stevens has been arrested this afternoon and is currently being held in custody for the string of murders we’ve seen these last couple of weeks. It is unknown whether or not she has a lawyer, but she has already confessed to police upon being detained that she is guilty for these deaths. If found guilty, Stevens will be going to prison for a very long time for her involvement in the murder of four young men. More information tomorrow, have a good night everyone.”

Bucky’s mouth hangs open at the sight of the waitress from the diner earlier today plastered on his television screen. A serial killer, a fucking serial killer.

That’s what you saw. You probably saw this girl killing random guys when you touched that mug.

A tired sigh escapes him as the channel switches from the news to some commercial and an angry kitten paws at his hand wondering why his dad stopped giving him scratches.

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, November 9

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

Cover: Duchess Kate sets the record straight on Prince Harry and Meghan Markle 

Page 2: Ben Affleck is wasting away and friends fear he’s taking his new health regimen too far as the six-foot-four star usually weighs 208 pounds but has shriveled to a spindly 165 -- a nutritionist put him on a sensible meal plan but he’s altered it with his own fantastical ideas such as he won’t go near bread and he’s ditched pasta and he’ll eat cantaloupe and blueberries one day and nuts and seeds the next and he’ll only drink boiled water and green tea for 24 hours then break his fast with a small bowl of quinoa -- instead of pumping iron he does exercises using his own body weight like ten-minute planks -- Ben thinks he looks great but his pals fear he’s traded one addiction for another

Page 3: Love-hungry Katie Holmes is thrilled to have a new man in her life but she’s breaking the bank to keep him happy because Katie is picking up the tab wherever she goes with Emilio Vitolo Jr. because it helps her feel she’s in full control of the relationship but Emilio may be taking advantage of Katie’s generosity because Katie has been showering him with designer clothes and jewelry and even paying for a personal trainer to whip him into shape -- Katie enjoys giving her guy things he can appreciate because he’s made her so happy but she may go broke doing it and it’s not like he doesn’t have any money; he’s worth a cool $1.5 million himself

Page 4: CNN rocked by sex scandal -- Jeffrey Toobin’s sleazy sex scandal has rocked CNN but it’s just the latest in a string of scandals at the network 

Page 5: Axed Fox News anchor Ed Henry fought back against his co-worker’s rape charges in a blockbuster lawsuit by handing the court explicit selfies and texts in an attempt to prove their tryst was consensual 

Page 6: Ryan Seacrest is downplaying his latest shocking absence from Live with Kelly and Ryan but the TV dynamo is battling a mystery illness that may force him to sign off for good -- the co-host who is a well known as a workaholic skipped out on the daytime show for the third time this year and used the coronavirus pandemic as his excuse -- Ryan was suffering badly from flu-like symptoms on the weekend before his absences but came back negative for coronavirus however doctors remain baffled by Ryan’s ongoing battles with exhaustion and weight loss and stroke-like symptoms, disgraced perv Bill Cosby’s latest mug shot shows he’s a shriveled shadow of his former self and the fallen funnyman flashed a maniacal grin while refusing to look into the camera in the picture snapped behind bars in September and he’s unshaven and his hair is ratty

Page 7: Lizzo has embarked on a radical vegan diet and extreme exercise program to save her life -- doctor warned the 350-pound singer that her daily intake of 5000 calories a day was a dangerous path to self-destruction and she needed to change her life or lose it and Lizzo finally got the message and is committed to this program but it’s been a living hell for her 

Page 8: After surviving a fiery crash at the Daytona 500 NASCAR hero Ryan Newman is locked in an ugly $50 million divorce showdown with his estranged wife -- Ryan and Kristina Newman split in 2019 after she was caught having an affair with another man and paying her love $450,000 and now Ryan’s lawyers are trying to freeze Kristina who was once referred to as the First Lady of NASCAR out of his fortune -- court papers reveal the two split in July 2019 when Kristina went to live with her boyfriend U.S. Army Captain Joe Schwankhaus who is the Chief Operations Officer of Kristina’s company VRX USA 

Page 9: Ellen DeGeneres debuted a high-flying pompadour hairstyle on her new talk show but the makeover still doesn’t get to the root of her recent problems and although her hair may be rising her show’s ratings are falling 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- pregnant Kelly Rowland, Andy Cohen took his son Benjamin for a stroll in NYC, Will Smith held court in L.A. while shooting King Richard a biopic about the dad of tennis greats Venus Williams and Serena Williams, Angela Bassett caught a drive-in screening of One Night in Miami in L.A. 

Page 11: Grieving Lisa Marie Presley has broken her silence over the suicide of her beloved only son Benjamin Keough saying her heart and soul went with him sharing her heartbreak on what would have been Ben’s 28th birthday and she added she’s dedicating herself to raising Ben’s twin half-sisters and actress sister Riley Keough, Chaka Khan refuses to duo with Ariana Grande again saying she’s not gonna do a song with no heifer -- Chaka and Ariana worked together in 2019 for the Charlie’s Angels soundtrack

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- DWTS pro Emma Slater kept a handle on her coffee while steering her e-bike (picture), it pays to be Brad Pitt’s girlfriend as his new squeeze Nicole Poturalski has doubled her modeling fees, dancing siblings Derek Hough and Julianne Hough are out of step over her sloppy personal life and his hot new judging career because these two were supposed to be the next Donny and Marie Osmond but his solo career is exploding while hers is falling apart, Madonna has always been a big believer in astrology but now she won’t even meet with people if it’s not written in the stars and she’s spending a fortune to have an army of people read her charts 

Page 13: Losing his beloved son to cancer has sparked new fears for fragile Robert Redford because Robert has struggled with his own health over the years and losing his son to bile-duct cancer is extremely worrying; he’s already frail and this has friends fearing the worst, Jeff Bridges is confident he’ll win his battle with lymphoma by coupling medical care with a strict vegan diet and chanting and spiritual healing techniques

Page 14: Convicted wife killer Scott Peterson may soon walk out of prison and grisly photos lawyers say could set him free -- following years of appeals California’s Supreme Court overturned Scott’s death penalty and now another appeal is forcing a lower court to reexamine his conviction for murdering seven months pregnant wife Laci Peterson and their unborn son Conner -- if Scott gets a retrial his legal team will be allowed to introduce new evidence including crime scene pictures that Scott’s former defense attorney said suggests Laci’s disappearance was an abduction by a satanic cult 

Page 15: Former child star Zachery Ty Bryan of Home Improvement was jailed overnight and released on $8500 bail following his bust for a fight with a galpal at an apartment complex in Eugene in Oregon -- the drama comes on the heels of Zachery’s split from wife Carly Matros the mom of his four kids

Page 16: Ryan Reynolds can’t wait to film a new rom-com with close pal Sandra Bullock but it’s causing tension with wife Blake Lively even though Blake trusts Ryan and would never forbid him from taking this part but the idea of him getting cozy with Sandra again still makes her uneasy -- now Ryan and Sandra are signed up to do The Lost City of D and despite Sandra’s denials they ever had a romance Ryan is gushing about them getting back together 

Page 17: Isolated and overlooked Today show host Hoda Kotb is being bullied off the morning show because of tepid ratings and the absence of former sidekick Kathie Lee Gifford and Mean Girls treatment by co-hosts Savannah Guthrie and Jenna Bush Hager have pushed the disillusioned anchor closer to the door -- Hoda recently filled out paperwork to adopt a third child and she’s clearly putting more emphasis on family than her career and it sends the signal she isn’t happy with her role and is not thinking of Today as her top priority, trainwreck Matthew Perry is holed up in his new Pacific Palisades beach pad  pounding out an explosive tell-all and his former Friends are quaking about what secrets he may reveal -- Matthew wants to rush the book out while interest in the Friends reunion special which was postponed by the COVID-19 pandemic remains high -- he knows an uncensored account of his time on Friends and his drug issues would be a bestseller and he intends to blow the lid off his on-set romances and address rumors he and Jennifer Aniston were more than friends 

Page 18: American Life -- her tall tale: I have the longest legs in the world 

Page 19: Jessica Simpson has been flaunting her body after dumping a shocking 100 pounds but buddies worry the drastic drop in size isn’t natural and suspect she’s been taking diet pills again and they’re worried this could escalate into a big issue

Page 20: Devastated Reese Witherspoon was hit with a depressing double whammy -- the death of her dog Pepper from cancer and the delay of her long-awaited sequel Legally Blonde 3, Hollywood Hookups -- John Cena and Shay Shariatzadeh wed, Ashley Hebert and J.P. Rosenbaum split, Cardi B and Offset on again

Page 21: Bruce Willis is back in another Die Hard but this time it’s a commercial for Advance Auto Parts and Die Hard batteries and it’s a clear statement on the state of his career that Bruce has to revisit his amazing past to make a fast buck in the present, Giada De Laurentiis has been given the green light to get married by her 12-year-old daughter Jade -- Giada has dated TV producer Shane Farley for five years and he’s been living with mother and daughter for five months during the pandemic lockdown which gave Jade a firsthand look at what it would be like to have a new daddy and Shane’s passed the test with flying colors 

Page 22: Cover Story -- Prince William’s heartsick wife Kate Middleton is breaking her silence about the royal family’s tumultuous bitter break with Prince Harry and Meghan Markle to set the record straight and save Britain’s monarchy and she’s tired of all the rumors and lies and backbiting and after all the drama and negativity she wants to get the truth out there and end this unprecedented crisis that’s endangering the monarchy’s survival -- friends are trying to convince Kate to do an official sit-down TV interview about what really happened between once-inseparable William and Harry and how Harry and Meghan tore the family apart even before they moved to America but Kate is resisting because she fears that could backfire like Princess Diana’s TV tell-all about her marriage to Prince Charles 25 years ago -- Kate had to turn the other cheek often after Meghan joined the family and she offered to help Meghan adjust to royal life from the start but Meghan rebuffed her and Kate in tired of Meghan painting her as the bad guy especially when it was Meghan’s antics that tore the family apart -- Kate also is upset that Harry and Meghan are portraying themselves as victims of a world that’s against them while she and William take on a phenomenal workload to cover the responsibilities the Sussexes left and losing precious time with their own three children and it’s hard not to be bitter but Kate is trying to take the high road and forgive Meghan and move forward

Page 26: With their marriage hanging by a thread Tori Spelling fears Dean McDermott will cheat on her again while filming a new TV show in Canada for six months; Tori wanted to bring their 5 children to Canada with him but Dean put her off saying it would be too distracting -- she’s been a jittery mess and he can’t stand to look at her and he only took this job because they need the money, Melanie Griffith is frustrated with Chris Martin and wants him to put a ring on her daughter Dakota Johnson’s finger -- the couple have been dating since 2017 and Melanie’s fed up with waiting for Chris to pop the question -- Melanie began to lose her patience after the couple reunited following a split last June when Chris won Dakota back with promises to settle down 

Page 28: COVID Vaccines: What you need to know

Page 32: Miley Cyrus claimed she once spotted a spaceship over Hollywood and even locked eyes with an alien but she also admits she’d bought weed wax from a guy in a van in front of a taco shop, whiny Kris Jenner is blaming social media for killing off Keeping Up with the Kardashians after it helped the reality TV clan make a mint

Page 34: Ozzy Osbourne is terrified a doll has cursed him -- Ozzy told son Jack Osbourne on their Osbournes Want to Believe show that Robert the doll was responsible for his recent bad luck and failing health, Tom Cruise and his Mission: Impossible 7 team caused chaos at an Italian hospital by filming there during the COVID-19 pandemic -- Tom and his crew including 100 security staffers plus trucks and other equipment descended on the Policlinico Umberto I in Rome for a week and legions of fans also flocked to the filming creating even more commotion in the streets outside the hospital and adding to the bedlam the production commandeered an elevator drawing criticism as hospital staff were treating 140 coronavirus patients with 12 in intensive care -- filming was done in an administrative section of the hospital but still sparked an official protest as well as complaints from trade union members

Page 36: Health Watch 

Page 38: Superhero screen pals of Chris Pratt rushed to rescue the actor’s reputation after he was mercilessly dragged into a silly social media meme when a Twitter user posted pictures of Chris Pratt and Chris Pine and Chris Hemsworth and Chris Evans captioned with the instruction one has to go but a flood of responses slammed Pratt as the worst Chris causing his Marvel co-stars to prop him up such as Zoe Saldana and Robert Downey Jr. and Mark Ruffalo and Jeremy Renner and Guardians of the Galaxy director James Gunn and Chris Pratt’s wife Katherine Schwarzenegger also bashed the social media bullies, Matthew McConaughey kept saying alright alright alright to making romantic comedies until the day he was so fed up he turned down $14.5 million to do another one -- Matthew revealed in his memoir that he didn’t mind making a string of mindless rom-coms because their paychecks rented the houses on the beach he ran shirtless on but he eventually wanted to try something else so he turned down a big payday so he could get more serious 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Drew Barrymore 

Page 47: Odd List

[pynkhues]

I’m sure you’ve already gotten a bunch of asks since Manny’s Crime King interview! I’m just like confused about him saying he’s enamored by her world but honestly like how is his different (besides his obvious commitment to the game) he lives in a nice loft, takes his kid to baseball, drives a fancy car, and plays tennis at the club. It’s not like he’s living the life of a thug. I guess I’m not getting the exact contrast of their worlds.

(Rest of my ask) I’m probably missing some obvious point here which is why I’m asking you lol helllppp

I do think Rio’s enamoured with Beth’s world, yes! I think that really boils down to the fact that while on paper Beth and Rio aren’t living dissimilar lives in terms of their roles as parents, and while they obviously now share parts of the criminal world, I do think the show is actually pretty specific in how it represents those worlds, particularly in terms of the masculine / feminine, and how a part of the curiosity around each other is in viewing one another as a key that both compliments their own world, while also unlocking the other’s one for them.

The gendering of spaces in storytelling – but particularly films and TV is, hilariously, a topic that I’m incredibly passionate about and have both written it a lot in my original work, and written about it a lot for magazines, journals and media sites (I’m actually writing an essay at the moment for a literary journal about LGBTQI cinema and how lesbian romances are highly domesticised [i.e. Portrait of a Lady on Fire, The Handmaiden, The Favourite, The Kids are Alright] while gay romances are usually very pointedly about keeping away from domestic spaces, moving and traveling [i.e. Brokeback Mountain, The Talented Mr Ripley, Moonlight, Midnight Cowboy, even Call Me By Your Name is heavily focused on being Americans abroad aka away from home] but that all feels like a different story, haha).

Luckily for me, Good Girls is actually about as obsessed with the gendering of spaces as I am. It’s a major, major throughline throughout the show for many of the characters, but particularly Beth and Rio, and their intrigue with the other’s spaces – her interest in his powerful, highly masculine one, and his with her deceptively innocent, strongly feminine one – is really central to their intrigue with each other more broadly.

So to talk about this, we probably need a little bit of context.

(Under a cut because this is literally 4,000 words)

Gendering Spaces in Cinema

It’s probably not a surprise to anyone here, but places and spaces in stories are about as gendered – if not more gendered – as they are in daily life. In particular, cinema’s visual and textual language has historically been very clear:

The inside is female. The outside is male.

This concept has really been around since the beginning of cinema but became very popularised through Westerns in the late 1920s onwards, and really underlined by war films particularly during propaganda cinema in WWII. Men are outside, battling the elements and other men, claiming land, building outwards, while women are at home – either literally or figuratively (if they’re actually out at war, like in the utterly fabulous So Proudly We Hail!, they’re at the ‘home base’ as nurses) – building inwards. Men protect the home while women create it.

Westerns feature these images very potently and very literally. Almost every single western dating back to the 1910s will have some combination of these two shots:

a)       Woman at home, looking out into the wild:

b)      Man leaving home, stepping out into the wild:

(These two stills are from John Ford’s The Searchers which is generally regarded as one of the greatest Westerns of all time. It’s………very racist and misogynistic, as many were and still are, but in terms of technicality and visual language, it’s a very well-made film, albeit not one I enjoyed).

The purpose at the time, of course, was steeped in historic sexism and invested in maintaining that culture, particularly westerns and war films which are heavily devoted to ‘macho’ narratives. Women were passive, men were active, but these images really set the stage for how the ideas of ‘space’ continues to exist in cinema. A fact that’s bolstered by broader social discourses that still exist today – schools, grocery stores, laundromats are inherently ‘female’ spaces because they are seen as an extension of the home, while police stations, car dealerships, warehouses, are inherently ‘male’ spaces because they’re about work, protecting and providing for a home, and being pointedly outside of that domestic space aka ‘the wild’. It’s not an accident that the girls are robbing grocery stores and day spas, but I’ll get back to that, haha.

These ideas of gendered spaces underpin everything we watch, no matter the genre.

Sure, these ideas can be subverted to varying degrees of effectiveness (often it’s steeped in my least favourite trope – the ‘not like other girls’ heroine), but you can’t subvert a trope without actually acknowledging it exists. Sometimes these subversions are done brilliantly too – like in Legally Blonde which was not just about Elle existing in a space that was quintessentially coded as male, but embracing her femininity and womanhood within that space; and often brutally too in films like Winter’s Bone, Room and The Nightingale which all brutalise women in ‘male spaces’ while simultaneously weaponizing female spaces against them – usually the home. The lead character of Winter’s Bone is going to lose her house unless her absent father shows up in court, the lead character of Room creates a home that is simultaneously a sanctuary and a mockery of a sanctuary to try and protect her son from reality and survive, the lead character of The Nightingale has her home invaded, her husband and baby murdered, and is horrifically raped within that home.

Hometown Horror: a divergence

This is a slight aside to where I’m going with this overall, but please indulge me, haha. I’m a big fan of horrors and thrillers, which explore this in a really stark way. In that, the invasion of a home or a domestic space – whether by ghost, demon or serial killer, is, generally speaking, synonymous with the invasion of a woman’s body and the violation of her as a person.

Films that focus on a female survivor or a ‘final girl’ are very generally focused on the invasion of her home as much as it’s focused on the invasion of her body. Think The Exorcist, Rosemary’s Baby, Scream, The Babadook, Hereditary, The Conjuring, Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, Panic Room. The violation of a woman’s home is the invasion of her, because cinema relies on over 100 years of movies telling us that a house and the woman who lives in it are symbolically the same thing.

Horror films that focus on men are very rarely centred in the home. It’s men travelling, or men visiting a woman’s home, or men who’ve been taken. Think of the first Saw movie which takes place in a mysterious basement, Hostel which is at a hostel, Dawn of the Dead at a shopping mall, An American Werewolf in London while two men are on holiday, The Evil Dead is in a cabin, Get Out is at his girlfriend’s family home.

There are exceptions, of course! Family home invasion films like The Purge, Funny Games and The Strangers are rooted in the violation of that home, but still. You’ll generally find that it manifests differently narratively speaking for men and women. Rear Window too takes place entirely in a man’s apartment – but it’s interesting to note that most of the ‘horror’ comes from him spying on somebody else’s home – notably a woman’s, The Descent too is very much about women and is set during cave diving. Still! These are all exceptions, not the rule.

Good Girls and Gendered Spaces

Every single space in Good Girls is gendered. It’s actually one of the things I seriously love about the show because it’s thoughtfully done, and it is deliberate. We know it is, because they tell us explicitly in the writing multiple times. I mean – hell, think of Ruby telling us (well, telling Rio, haha) way back at the end of 1.04 when they’re selling him on the idea of washing cash through Cloud 9 – “Nobody thinks twice about a woman buying her husband a TV or new tires for the minivan.” A store like that is gendered, and Ruby’s reinforcing it by saying it’s a place women go to build a home. It hasn’t been weaponized yet - - but our girls know how to weaponize it. They’re playing on the fact that people think women’s spaces are effectively impotent, and they’re telling Rio – and us as an audience – that they’re going to exploit it.

This is an idea the show revisits frequently. Women’s spaces are – both in life and in storytelling – spaces that are viewed as passive because they are representative of women, and what the show is – I believe – very invested in, is showing how those spaces are fundamentally active. If you want a house to represent a woman – well, okay. Then you get to see what’s under the rug, y’know?

I’m going to come back to the home thread – because I really do think it’s very important, and I think the way the show depicts people in those spaces (and invading those spaces) is significant – but it’s not just homes that are looked at in this way. The show is very specific about having feminine spaces and masculine spaces, with only a few in between (and usually those in-between spaces are very specifically for Stan and Ruby, showing just how in-sync they are with each other and how much they operate within a shared space). Beyond the women’s homes, there are the kids’ schools, Fine & Frugal (very important here to note that Annie emasculates Boomer in what is an associated female space and that he retaliates by attempting to rape her in her own home aka not only another female space, but a space that is symbolically Annie, something he repeats later with Mary Pat – a violation on essentially every character, narrative and symbolic level, again), the waxing salon, Nancy’s day spa, Jane’s dance recital (and actually the physical object of the dubby – being a highly feminine object lost in a very masculine space), and already what we know of s3, with Ruby being at a nail salon and Beth being at a paper / card store.

The show also has very masculinized places – I’d argue Boland Motors is one of the biggest ones – very much about ‘boys and their toys’, which is why Beth pointedly feminising it when she takes over is so significant and symbolically indicative of Beth’s claiming of that space; but also spaces like the police station, the drug dealer’s house in 2.07, the hotel suite Boomer briefly occupies, even to an extent the church. When the girls are in these spaces, there’s a distinct feeling of encroaching on territory that isn’t theirs, or being in spaces that they don’t belong in. This is often done as a two-hander too – the police station and the church Ruby doesn’t belong in anymore, not necessarily as a woman, but as a criminal.

Nothing though, from a technical standpoint, is more masculine than the spaces that are shown to be Rio’s. From the warehouse spaces to the bar to his loft to his car, Rio’s ‘places’ are distinctly masculine and generally placed in direct contrast with Beth’s femininity. But I’ll come back to that point too.

Home, Identity and Invasion

Almost every female character on this show has a very defined domestic space, from Beth, Ruby and Annie, to Mary Pat, Marion and Nancy. These spaces are representative of not just who they are, but who they are as women, and really comes to routinely represent the interior lives of these characters. This is probably the clearest in 2.09 when Beth is uncharacteristically messy following Dean taking their kids, and in 2.06, when Beth and Dean switch roles, and Dean is incapable of maintaining that domestic space because it’s not his. But let’s not start there.

Let’s start with Annie.

Annie’s apartment is fun, feminine (but not overly so), youthful, sweet, and generally a bit of organized chaos. It’s often underequipped – there are several mentions of the pantry being understocked – but it’ll always do in a pinch. More than anything though, Annie’s apartment comes to life when her son is in it. She’s happiest when he’s there, and when he’s not, her loneliness drives her to pulling people into the space with her, whether that’s the electronics guy, Greg, or Noah.

This is particularly significant when Annie’s forming bonds with people. The show has symbolically relied very heavily on Annie’s moments of vulnerability and connection being grounded in her apartment or an extension of it – usually her car. There was her reconnecting with Greg over YouTube videos in s1, there was Nancy and her talking about pregnancy in 2.02, and there was Noah settling in across season 2. These are all substantial moments in terms of Annie’s interior life that are represented through her home – she lets them all in. Which is why it’s significant what people do when they are in. Particularly the show marrying Noah getting to know Annie while simultaneously rifling through her belongings, trying to know specific things about her.

This is only reiterated by Noah’s scenes with Sadie later in the season – always at home, reiterating just how much Noah’s invaded Annie’s life, how much he’s inside her, how much he’s using everything and everyone who’s important to her, and how much he’s a threat to all of that too.

Ruby and Stan are a little different. Ruby’s house is the only one that’s genuinely shared with somebody, and the show represents this across the board – Ruby and Stan wear similar colours, the house feels like theirs, and the parts of their worlds that are separate are still frequently pretty defined by each other (even when Ruby’s acting away form Stan, the show makes it clear that Stan’s at the forefront of her mind, and vice versa). This indicates their partnership, but the house really still is symbolically tied to Ruby. This is particularly represented by the effect of having Turner in the house, but, more than that, it’s underlined symbolically by Turner arresting Stan at home. If the home symbolically carries the meaning of the woman, Turner arresting Stan there is starkly about Turner taking Stan away from Ruby. That image would not hold the same weight if he was arrested at, say, the park or the police station, because the locations don’t hold the same meaning.

It’s also why there’s significance in Stan and Turner’s showdown narratively speaking happening at the police station. It needs to, because symbolically it should occupy a masculine-coded space, because that showdown isn’t just about who they are as people, but who they are as men.

Beth and Beth’s house is very, very different to Annie and Ruby’s, and holds a more substantial narrative and symbolic function. From the very first episode, the potential of losing her house is key to her arc, and key to her identity as a character.

Beth is a lot of things, but a recurring image with her as a character is that she is invested in projecting a dated idea of ‘perfect womanhood’, and, within that, actually pretty perfectly creates parts of it for herself. For Beth – as somebody who was a housewife for roughly twenty years – her house really is her in every sense of the word. Every threat to that house, every disruption, every wrinkle, every intrusion, every theft, every invitation is personal. Dean might have at least two rooms in the Boland House, but that space is Beth’s on almost every symbolic level. When people pop into it, it’s a direct invasion of her.

This is something that the show has revisited time and time again, particularly when it comes to Beth’s bedroom. When people want to be close to Beth, that’s where they go. Annie slept there across season one when she was vulnerable and lonely, despite Beth telling her to go home, Jane broke into Beth’s closet there when she felt she was being neglected, Dean’s constantly trying to sidle into it (and – pointedly – only really in it when they’re fighting and Beth is revealing something / letting him in on something – that they’re out of money, that she has Rio’s money, that she knows about his affairs). When Beth has been at her most vulnerable, she lets Ruby and Annie into it. That said, the only character who’s been explicitly invited into it has been Rio – significantly both in fantasy, and in the show’s reality.

It’s not just about inviting people in though – when she kicks somebody out of it, the act is loaded.

She’s not just pushing somebody out of a space, she’s pushing them out of her.

It’s not just her bedroom of course (although I do think that’s the most significant space on perhaps the whole show). Rio and Turner between them have regularly invaded Beth’s living room, dining room, her kitchen, her yard. These are often distinctly tied with her doing something domestic and / or distinctly feminine. She’s bringing groceries home, she’s baking, she’s trying on jewellery, she’s mothering her children. Symbolically, this is often when Rio and Turner both are at their most masculine and their most threatening, which just serves to underline the invasion of Beth’s space.

It’s not just the girls though, as I said above. Female domestic spaces on this show are significantly coded as belonging to women, even if they share those spaces. Think about Nancy and Greg’s house – which is Nancy’s space, not Greg’s, and throughout season 1, Annie was pitted as the outsider to that. She’s a smear of hair oil on Nancy’s perfect couch. It’s made all the starker when Nancy kicks Greg out, and when Annie helps Nancy give birth in that house – a distinctly female, intimate act, that not only operates as a significant feminization of that space, but also about Annie fighting for Nancy to let her in again.

These spaces all keep secrets for the women they belong to too – Mary Pat’s husband’s dead body, Boomer’s very much alive one – because, again, symbolically, they are these women.

Rio’s loft is a really interesting one to look at in this context, because not only is it hyper masculine, but the show underlines that it does not hold the same significance that the girls’ places have for them. Beth does not learn Rio by being inside him – something made stark through their game of twenty questions. In fact, being in Rio’s loft, in his space, only serves to point out how much Beth doesn’t know him. Not only that, but Beth’s inability to lose her house (which is really central to her arc) is paralleled exactly with how easily Rio can separate from his.

The domestic space is not male.

Rio exists outside of it.

Beth x Rio and the Feminine x Masculine

Rio and Beth are basically at polar opposites of the masculine / feminine spectrum, and it’s something that this show often casts in a really stark light through dialogue, visual language, character coding and symbolism.

Beth epitomizes the old archetype of femininity and the female world in a way that I don’t think Annie and Ruby do (although I do think Ruby does in some respects). This is coded into almost every part of her character – from her long history of domestic servitude and marital submission (letting Dean control their finances, not working, keeping the house, etc.) to her fertility (four children!) to the way she dresses in floral, bakes, to certain traits, namely her nurturing tendencies, overt empathy and guilt (not being able to kill Boomer). Even in terms of the casting – Christina is somebody who has a very distinctly feminine body.  

On the other hand, Rio, in many ways, epitomizes the old idea of masculinity and the masculine world. He’s coded that way almost as much as Beth is coded as feminine – he’s physically strong (beating up Dean, holding Beth up while they were having sex), assertive, dominant, capable and collected. That’s not even touching on the fact that the golden gun is incredibly phallic, haha.

The show loves to place Beth’s femininity in direct contrast with Rio’s masculinity in a way that it doesn’t do with the other girls or – in fact perhaps more notably – with Beth and Dean (if anything, Dean’s frequently emasculated around Beth, but that feels like a whole other thing, haha), and it does this frequently, and often even in the same shot.

Most notably, think of her pearls on the warehouse door handle:

Their cars parked side-by-side:

Her necklace, his gun:

Her light, his darkness:

Her floral, his solid colours:

Interestingly though, these things are very rarely in competition or combative (although occasionally they are – Rio trying to use her femaleness and his maleness / their sexuality to literally bend her over a table in 2.06 being the clearest example of that). Generally speaking, the show’s visual language though shows us how these things compliment each other. They occupy different gendered spaces, so they can ‘crime’ in different ways – Beth using the big box stores, the secret shoppers, robbing the day spa, are all things that are highly feminised, and give Rio by proxy access to a world he ordinarily wouldn’t (albeit it’s not always a world he’s interested in – like it wasn’t with the botox), and the reverse of that is that Rio gives Beth access to spaces that are highly masculinised and that she ordinarily wouldn’t have access to (again, not always a world she’s interested in either). It’s why when they’re working together, and acknowledging they have different departments, they actually become something really whole, comprehensive and effective.

It’s the exploration of this that I find really intriguing generally, and particularly a thread that I think is reiterated where Beth’s usually at her worst and her most ineffective when she’s trying to emulate Rio’s masculinity. We saw that at the end of 1.10 and the start of 2.01, and I think we saw it at the tail end of season 2 too. When Beth’s succeeding, she’s typically doing something that revels in the strength and power and the underestimation of femininity and female spaces, and turns places that are typically viewed as passive into active ones.

The Secret Shoppers (which worked briefly! And fell apart because she couldn’t handle Mary Pat. Notably almost every scene with them was inside Beth’s house):

The day spa heist:

The Boland Motors takeover / reclamation that focused on feminising the place:

Pretending to be somebody’s mum to get into the kids’ space (which would’ve worked if Beth and Ruby hadn’t started fighting):

Breaking into Rio’s loft:

Again, this is something that seems to be being teased out already in s3 with the paper store and the nail salon, and I’m sure we’ll see it coming up again and again beyond that.

But yes! Your question, haha. I think Rio is enamoured with the strong, feminine space and the untapped female world that Beth exists in, and the ways that she is actively capable of utilising her femininity and her womanness in a way that is completely impossible for him. She can manipulate these spaces – either those already female, or those she makes female aka Boland Motors – in ways that he can’t, and in a way that, at the end of the day, lines his pocket, in the same way that giving her access to his powerful, masculine world lines hers. It’s market development, y’know? But it’s also something that could be a true and successful partnership if they could stop, y’know, playing games and trying to kill each other, haha.

I think it’s worth noting here too that the show has shown us explicitly that Beth absolutely gets off on Rio being highly masculine, and while I think Rio absolutely gets off on Beth being a boss bitch too, it’s also important to note how he responds to her when she’s displaying vulnerability in a way often defined as very feminine – namely crying – and how that display of femininity not only affects him, but often makes him want to touch her (and more and more, follow through on touching her).

Basically I think they’re as obsessed with the contrast between the two of them as we are, haha.  

[dionysia]

things said in the unhinged gc

“i am a Football and God is a tiny tot player with the rage of a toddler inside him”

“No cops at pride just Mae and her umbrella”

“[Eyes full of love] he's the U to my WU” 

“So commit arson my good friend”

“ha i stayed up an extra half hour late to do my u get ore interview wtf” “u get ore” “minecraft be like”

“can you kin yourself” “i’m pretty sure that’s just called existing”

"jet is a murderer and he kinda committed genocide, but he's kinda hot!" 

"I made a big mistake. I reblogged a post saying I don't love my mum. But I do love her."

“this one's for you, [redacted for legal reasons]! you lying whore.”

“let's get this fucking MUTINY ladies"

“yas breakfast what shall u eat” “oh my god i dont know the english word bread that has been in the bread shaker” “what, the fuck“

“i like my blood from nice people not angry men it throws off my groove“

"A secret dance party? what is this footloose”

“He's such a cool character shame about the genocide“

“mae i'm never not willing to put aside a thot or two for u“

“I love that man Mae you don't understand Like I wish I was that violin”

"what is the only problem with astrology" "science"

“and BESIDES this is obviously a dictatorship”

“more like please don’t ever think of me i’m too tired and today had been too long for me to accept i exist in other people’s minds“

“it really do be the middle of the night and im like in the mood to commit tomfoolery”

“you will see some rocks and dust and you WILL enjoy yourself“

“oh my god you guys i was serenading my cat with music of the night-“

[birbleafs]

[fic] Strange Creatures

Series: Artemis Fowl Rating: G Genre: Friendship & Humour, Post-series Character(s): Beckett Fowl, Myles Fowl, Mulch Diggums, Juliet Butler, Holly Short and Artemis Fowl II Summary: Mulch Diggums finds himself abruptly enlisted by the Fowl twins, Myles and Beckett, to create the best Eldest Brother’s Day gift for Artemis, much to Holly and Juliet’s amusement. A/N: Here’s my full piece for the Artemis Fowl Fanzine: A Fowl Mood! It was really fun to be part of this project - many thanks to the mods & fellow contributors for all their hard work. Thanks also to my bro Digi for being a wonderful beta ♥  There are still some leftover merch for sale if anyone’s interested. This fic is set a few years after The Last Guardian, without taking into account the events in The Fowl Twins (as I’d finished writing it last July). Fic can also be read on AO3. _______

“What strange creatures brothers are!” -Jane Austen- ~.*.~ Mulch Diggums was once again on the run and back to his old habits of skulking among dastardly rich Mud Men, pilfering trinkets and valuables from their homes. And once again, word of his not-quite-earnest—or legal, for that matter—endeavours soon reached the LEP’s ears. In fact, his current whereabouts had turned up as a flashing blip on Foaly’s screens when the centaur had been running one of his routine surveillance sweeps of the surface. That, however, is another story altogether, one that Foaly would happily indulge in if you let him. But Captain Holly Short is a busy elf—short on time and even shorter with patience. So alas, Foaly’s tale would have to be shelved. For now, at least.

So it was that Mulch found himself abruptly cornered by an LEP Retrieval squad in his own home—well, he was house-sitting at the moment, but hey, same difference—just as he was settling into a nice, warm mud bath. That’s the thing about the LEP. Always with the atrociously bad timing, never an ounce of tact. So much for being role models, upstanding fairies of the People. The last thing Mulch saw and heard was a deafening blast as the bathroom door burst wide open, and the zipping sound of a fabric-like netting whirling tight around him. There was a flurry of movement as he struggled in the velvet darkness enclosing him, before he found himself promptly hauled back to Haven City and into the dimly-lit interior of a drab holding room, sitting once again before Captain Short. “Holly! Mon chéri… Compadre!” Mulch cooed, tuning his natural dwarfish charm up a notch. “How’s my favourite elfin lady today?” “Cut the chatter, Mulch. I’m sure you know exactly why you’ve been detained.” Truthfully, Holly didn’t have any hard evidence for Mulch’s arrest this time—not yet, at least. But Mulch had hardly ever been innocent, even when he wasn’t actively committing a crime, so it wasn’t too difficult for her to pretend the LEP knew of his most recent of illegal endeavours (which they didn’t). Besides, she’d lost a stupid bet during a party several weekends ago, and—well. You reap what you sow. Holly made a mental note to never take another sip of a certain centaur’s home concoction of sim-alcohol, recreational study or not. Anyway, back to the plot: She had lost a bet and now she had to pull this dumb prank on Mulch in return for a favour for a certain Mud Boy’s family. Holly could almost hear said Mud Boy’s tired sigh of disapproval upon hearing of his friends’ latest shenanigans. Still, she’d also promised Artemis she would visit the twins soon and she figured this was a nifty way to kill two birds with one stone. Technically, it would be two Fowls and a dwarf. Holly chuckled at her own joke, certain that Artemis wouldn’t have appreciated that quip at all, figurative murder or not. Before Mulch had a chance to explain his innocence this time, Holly began listing down the years he’d have to serve, the cell block they had carefully picked out for him this time, the terribly cold draft they had made sure would pass into said cell every night. And just as Mulch was about to get suspicious, Holly shifted gears and offered a compromise instead. Even though he was still confused and rightfully wary of the sudden turn of events, Mulch tentatively accepted Holly’s deal. And soon, he found himself whisked away on a shuttle topside, piloted by the Captain herself. “So where are we headed?” Mulch asked once he’d settled comfortably into his seat. “Now that it’s just you and me, Captain… I’m allowed to be privy to the details of said ‘deal’, right?” Holly was tempted to reveal the truth then, but she figured it’d be funnier if she let the dwarf discover it for himself. Mulch was a crafty one, after all—it wouldn’t take him too long to realise what was really going on. She only gave him a knowing smirk and murmured ominously, “All things in good time, Mulch.” * From the E1 shuttle port at Tara, it was a quick jaunt to the Fowl Manor. Holly could already hear the voices of the twins drifting over the wind as they made their way past the last cluster of Artemis’ fairy roses and to where the twins and their nanny Juliet Butler were seated by the fountain in the courtyard. Seven-year-old Beckett Fowl was the first to glance their way; Holly could’ve sworn the child had canine-like senses, what with the way he had whirled around at their near-silent approach. He was the very picture of innocence as he bounced up to them, his radiant curls and bright-eyed stare reminiscent of an eager golden retriever puppy. “Holly’s here! And S’Mulch Dinggus!” Beckett squealed happily as he launched himself at her. Holly embraced him warmly, before waving a greeting to Juliet who stood patiently behind the boy. The dwarf tutted, unimpressed at the butchering of his name. “We’ve been through this the last time, little Mudskipper. It’s Mulch Diggums.” “That’s what I said,” Beckett giggled, turning back to look at Juliet. “S’Mulch Dinggus. Funny he can’t remember his own name.” Before Mulch could get a protest in edgewise, he was interrupted by a small, polite cough. He turned and saw a bespectacled, raven-haired Mud Child appearing by Beckett’s side. Myles Fowl had the same piercing blue eyes as his free-spirited twin, but unlike his twin, he was the seemingly more precocious and finicky of the two. He looked every bit the likeness of his eldest brother, Mulch noted humorously—from the meticulously pressed suit and tie to the neatly-combed dark hair. Heck, the kid had even perfected the infamous Fowl glare to an art form, crystalline and frigid as an Arctic winter. “You’re finally here as summoned, Mister Mulch,” Myles greeted solemnly. He ignored the wet, icky sounds of Beckett blowing raspberries beside him. “Took you long enough.” “Summoned?” Mulch frowned, before a thought struck him. He grinned toothily at Holly. “So that’s what this is about, eh, Captain Short? ‘Detained’, my hairy as—” “Language, Mulch,” Holly said, stepping on the dwarf’s toes all while matching his grin with a serene, innocent smile of her own. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry I had a Retrieval squad jump you back there in the house. But it’s not like you were likely to be agreeable and come quietly if you knew the Fowl twins had extended an invitation and personally requested for your…er, assistance.” “Is not invitatitions,” Beckett chirped as he chewed on a piece of purple beeswax crayon. “Arty said summons would do in the tongue of magicks, so we summons S’Mulch!” He gave a sagely nod, his mouth stained and flecked with purple now. Mulch gave Holly a look of disappointment. “Frankly, I’m hurt you think I’d even pass up the chance to humiliate my favourite Mud Boy, and what’s more, by teaming up with his own cute brethren. Okay then, little Fowl nuggets. What dwarfish advice would you need this time?” “First of all, we’re not nuggets,” Myles said coldly, just as Beckett clucked like a gleeful hen and made flapping motions with his arms. “I assure you that we are still one-hundred percent Homo sapiens, even if Beck has gotten very good at animal mimicry of late.” “I see this one’s got a great sense of humour,” Mulch observed drily. “Definitely Artemis’ brother.” “A-hem. As I was saying...” Myles scowled at the interruption, and Mulch held up a placating hand in apology. “Secondly, Beck and I, we thought it through for many weeks—Well, I did anyway. However, we weren’t able to make any significant progress in the lab even with Professor Primate’s expertise—” “Not quite sure where you’re going with this riveting story, kiddo,” Mulch muttered. “But I’m still listening, if that helps.” “—and after several failed attempts, we have conceded that we need help from someone with the right skills. Skills we do not yet possess.” Myles paused, his young face pinched with doubt. But his hesitation was fleeting, and he met both Mulch and Holly’s curious expressions with a determined gaze once more. “We want to throw Arty the best surprise Eldest Brother’s Day when he gets back,” the boy said. “So, would you please honour us, Mister Mulch, and teach us how best to make—” “Flatulence!” Beckett crowed as if on cue, punching a fist victoriously into the air. “Please, brother. Not this again.” Myles groaned. “You boys want me to teach you how to let a mighty rip?” Mulch asked, incredulous. “No, that’s not it!” Myles cried, exasperated. “Beck has gotten it all muddled! He means the fettling process used in pottery, not the crude effusion of intestinal gas!” He tugged frantically at Beckett’s sleeve, trying to stop his twin from belting out his favourite self-composed tune called A Song of Gas and Fire, to no avail. For two whole minutes, the group was forced to listen to Beckett’s high-pitched singing of “Pbbthh, pbbthh, rattle-boom! Gas and fire, gas and fire! Heave-ho, the window’s blown!” “Thanks, little Mudskipper, for that, uh, delightful performance,” said Mulch, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes once Beckett had finished his song. “I gotta say, you sure are a natural. But there’s still something I don’t really get. Why would you need my help for the surprise? Like don’t get me wrong, kiddos, I like you two enough. But what’s wrong with Holly or Juliet here, or even Butler himself? If anything, they’re better suited at picking out the mushy gifts...” He trailed off, thinking hard. “Well, I trust the Big Man’s taste for the sentimental, at least.” “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, Mulch,” Juliet deadpanned, with only the slightest roll of her eyes. “It’s true Butler had some good suggestions for gifts, but this is a Fowl twins initiative, so we figured we’d let the kids decide on their own. Besides, Beck had other ideas.” “My ideas the best ideas!” Beckett chanted, beaming brightly. “We decided that we want to make Arty a sculpture for Eldest Brother’s Day.” Myles supplied, glancing at Mulch once again. “We know that Mister Mulch is highly attuned to the necessities of good clay work by virtue of his biological make-up— “S’Mulch is good with muds and gas! I wanna learn how to blast clay backwards too!” “—therefore, you are best suited to teach us how to sculpt and—” “And flatulence!” Mulch tried his best, he really did, but he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. He didn’t know which was funnier: the thought of the twins gifting Artemis Fowl, ex-criminal virtuoso and menace of the People, a squishy caricature blob of his miniature being or Beckett performing a pompous and fartastical symphony of A Song of Gas and Fire for his dear eldest brother. Either way, he was rightfully tickled and the twins were in luck. Unbeknownst to many, Mulch had spent some time dabbling in pottery and sculpting with clay when he’d lived amongst the celebrity Mud Men; he had chalked it up as weird hobby of sorts.  “You Mud twins are hilarious,” he said, once his laughter had subsided and he’d managed to straighten himself up again. “All right, I’m sold on this crazy venture. I’ll help with the sculpting of a masterpiece for ol’ Arty-boy.” From the corner of his eye, he caught a glance of Juliet’s smug expression. Her lips were curved into a wide Cheshire grin as she tapped Holly’s shoulder expectantly. The elf only groaned, before she reached into her back pocket to fish out a single gold coin and slipped it into Juliet’s fingers. Mulch frowned at the exchange, throwing them his best hurt-puppy look. “Running a betting pool on me and for only a single gold coin? I’m affronted, ladies.” “You only wish your crooked mug is worth half a penny,” Holly shrugged. “I’m being generous because Juliet’s a friend.” “Aww, I knew you were a big old softie inside!” Juliet sighed happily, reaching forward to teasingly pinch the side of Mulch’s face. “Now that that’s settled, someone can finally knead clay with the kids and get some work done before Artemis gets home from his conference this weekend.” She quickly stepped away, disappearing into the nearby garage for several minutes before she returned carrying a craft box packed with an assortment of smaller items inside. “These rascals had me running to art stores all over Dublin the past two weeks looking for all kinds of overpriced play-dohs, and yet hardly asked if I could help them to sculpt!” She grumbled, not quite unkindly, as she shook the items out from the box, laying them out on a patch of grass before them. Holly looked over at Juliet in surprise. “I didn’t know you were into sculpting.” She thought of all the hours the young woman had spent whooping over her favourite wrestling matches on TV as a teen. “Never pegged you as the artistic type.” Juliet snorted. “Pfft, me? Nah, I don’t sculpt. That’s more a pretentious Artemis thing.” “Why would you expect the twins to ask you to teach them, then?” “Well, I’d like to be asked first, at least! I took the time to buy all these fancy play-dohs for them, didn’t I?” Mulch leaned forward in interest, looking over the packets of “play-dohs”. He spotted several labelled as Creative Paperclay—at least Juliet managed to get some of the good stuff. He grinned toothily as he rolled up his sleeves, feeling a spark of excitement at getting to work with clay again. “Okay then, kiddos. Let’s get cracking and moulding.” * “What’s this Eldest Brother’s Day thing you Mud Men celebrate like anyway?” Mulch asked. They’d made their way from the courtyard into the Manor basement where Artemis had set up a work space for Myles’ messier experiments and tinkering projects. The group stood now before the large experiment bench. Juliet covered the top with a large plastic mat, and turning the craft box over, shook packets of Creative Paperclay and several plastic and wooden crafting tools out on the bench. At Mulch’s question, she turned and gave him a strange look, brows furrowed. Then she let out a short laugh when she realised he was actually being serious. “Silly fairy,” she snickered, glancing over the top of Myles and Beckett’s heads before she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper: “There’s no such thing as Eldest Brother’s Day. It’s just something the twins came up with but I’m not going to ruin it for them and tell them it isn’t actually a thing. I’m not a monster, you know.” “We know it, Juliet,” Beckett said suddenly, blinking up at her with those large blue eyes filled with mischief and daring. “But Artemis’ a simple-toon—” Myles giggled at his twin’s use of their brother’s old nickname, even as he fought to keep his expression stoic. “—and simple-toons need Eldest Brother’s Day. So we celebrate.” Beckett finished with a nod, as though he’d just gifted both his human and fairy nannies with his brand of enlightenment. “Riiiight,” Mulch said, shaking his head. He figured some things were best left unasked and unexplained, especially when dealing with incorrigibly irreverent Fowl children. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for that impromptu alliteration (it was the playwright blooming within him, he was sure of it) and turned back to the project at hand. The twins had already decided early-on the sort of sculpture they had wanted to create. After ruminating over it weeks before, Myles had settled on recreating a 5-inch figure of Jayjay the silky sifaka, the fluffy white lemur whose whimsical escapades were often included in the bedtime stories Artemis read them. Beckett, on the other hand, had chosen to fashion an honorary tribute to Artemis’ late Syrian hamster, Lady Maeve, poised upright on her hind feet in an impassioned stance, gnawing away at a two-headed wyrm. Once the twins had sketched out their preferred designs on paper, Juliet pinned the sketches up on the cork board on the wall for easy reference. Then they got to work. Mulch placed two cups of water on the bench, and proceeded to show the twins how to gauge the amount they needed for their sculptures and how to knead the clay to warm it up and make it more malleable. “It’s a bit like baking extravagant pastries,” he said as he cut a block of clay into various-sized pieces. “You roll the individual shapes out like this and then stick them together to form a whole creature. Like an animal jigsaw puzzle, so to speak.” “They aren’t edible or taste any good though, not like pastries,” Holly added quickly when she noticed Beckett staring a little too longingly at the piece he’d been kneading. She tapped his fingers away just as the boy lifted the clay to his mouth for a quick nibble. “No tasting?” Beckett asked mournfully. “No tasting.” The elf shook her head. “But I do have some special treacle and espresso power bars from Haven City. It’s much better than consuming bland clay. I’ll let you have a bite later when we finish sculpting Lady Maeve, okay?” It seemed like a good bargain, so Beckett closed his mouth and chewed at his lower lip instead, rolling his clay pieces under his palms with renewed fervour. They continued shaping their pieces. Mulch showed the twins how to score the ends of the individual pieces they’d made for the limbs with a plastic knife. Then they connected the scored ends of the limbs to the body, blending the seams and smoothing it down carefully with their fingers and dabs of water. They continued in a similar fashion for the heads, noses, ears, and tails. Once the twins were satisfied with their sculptures, Mulch carefully placed the pieces on a cool, clean shelf to gradually dry and set over the next 24-hours. When they returned later to check on their work, the twins found the dried sculptures were now off-white and grainy to touch, quite unlike the squishy beige blobs they had been pinching and moulding with their hands the day before. “And now for a good splash of colour to make your pieces really pop,” Mulch said, dumping several tubes of acrylic paints and brushes on the bench with much more flair than necessary. He had a paint brush stuck behind one of his hairy ears—it helped him feel attuned with the art connoisseur in him. “Jayjay has a mostly pure-white coat,” Myles mused as he picked out a few choice colours, “but I think a gold accent to his fur tips, ears and tails would bring out his features more.” “Gold, huh?” Mulch looked over the boy’s chosen colour scheme with approval. “Good aesthetic you got there, Mudling.” “A very Fowl aesthetic for sure.” Holly couldn’t help the quip, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Artemis would certainly appreciate the touch. “Lady Maeve wants to be purple like rain,” Beckett declared solemnly, having been uncharacteristically silent for five whole minutes. “Purple? But Beck, Lady Maeve was a golden long-haired Syrian.” Myles tilted his head towards his twin. “If you paint her fur purple, Arty might not recognize her.” Beckett’s attention, however, seemed to be two steps ahead of the conversation. He’d already dipped his brush with paint and was dabbing streaks of purple all over the hamster’s body. “The Lady requests a cloak of purple rain, so purple she shall be.” The adults could barely stifle their chuckles while Myles groaned once again in defeat. He decided it was probably for the best and turned his attention back to painting his lemur. It was nearly noon when the twins added the last dabs of paint, after which Mulch proceeded to spray a coat of clear acrylic varnish over the sculptures to preserve and seal the colours. Then, he stepped several paces back from the bench to marvel at the fruits of their labour. “We have finished at last.” Myles’ voice was soft, awe pooling in his eyes. Hesitantly, he turned to Juliet and Holly, and then glanced back at the dwarf, searching for reassurance. “What do you think, Mister Mulch? Will Artemis like it?” Mulch rubbed at his beard thoughtfully. Both sculptures looked very much like what you would expect of two seven-year-olds’ valiant attempts at artisanal clay work. “Hmm.” He clicked his tongue lightly as he paced around the work bench, reaching into his inner art critic for the right words. “Now, Myles: Despite the crooked tail, you did a fairly good job at carving the fur textures on your lemur. Plus, adding gold accents to the white fur is very innovative and makes Jayjay glow nicely under the light. A very regal and classic touch overall.” Mulch came to a dignified pause before the second sculpture, rubbing his palms together as if in deep thought. “As for Beckett’s recreation of Lady Maeve: It seems far more… robust than the original, almost challenging anatomy and even physics itself. But the bright mixes of purple and gold contrasts nicely with the green and gore of the flailing wyrm, adding a surprising dynamism to the entire piece. All in all, two very good attempts, my young apprentices.” Holly and Juliet were already sighing halfway through Mulch’s needlessly opulent commentary, but even they agreed with the dwarf’s final assessment, much to the relief and delight of Myles and Beckett Fowl. * When Artemis Fowl the Second arrived home from his two-week long conference on Wildlife and Biodiversity Conservation, he was surprised to be greeted only by an unusually silent living room, devoid of the typical sounds of playful bellowing and childish laughter. Leaving Butler to unload his luggage from the Bentley, Artemis wondered briefly at the absence of his two brothers and Juliet, their sitter, before he noticed a strange sort of rumbling noise and vibration coming from somewhere below him. Curious, he headed for the basement, moving cautiously towards the noise. It was there that he found the twins asleep and cuddled around a familiar rotund shape sprawled upon an old velvet sofa. The fairy had his head thrown back against the cushion and was snoring rather noisily. “Ah,” Artemis said, eloquent as ever. He steepled his fingers together, taking a moment to process the scene before him. “Arty…? Oh, you’re finally back.” Holly’s soft voice broke him out of his reverie. He turned to see his old friend curled up on a second sofa, blinking the sleep from her eyes. “Welcome home,” she yawned a greeting. “Juliet’s in the kitchen fixing up some snacks, I think.” “Hello, Holly. It’s good to be back among familiar faces again. It seems that I’ve missed quite a party while I was away…” Artemis trailed off when he caught sight of the strange creatures placed on Myles’ experiment bench. “They’re supposed to be a surprise for you when you returned. For Eldest Brother’s Day.” Holly explained when Artemis raised a delicate eyebrow. He lifted up one of the sculptures for a closer inspection, his forehead creased in confusion at what looked to be a purple rodent gnawing on a plump string of green linguine—Beckett’s. “Eldest Brother’s Day?” Artemis echoed. He reached for the second sculpture—Myles’ lemur—before walking over to take a seat beside Holly on the sofa. Holly stretched her arms as she sat upright. “It’s kind of a long story.” “I expect so. Do enlighten me, if you will.” “Well, let’s see...” Holly began, brushing the side of her cheek with a finger. “Once upon a time, there were a pair of twins who, Frond only knows why, admired and looked up to their chaotically unhinged older brother greatly.” Artemis gave her a slightly wounded look, pressing a hand to his chest in a show of mock offense. “I’m appalled, Holly. You of all people know I prefer calculating to chaotic. There is a method to my madness, after all.” “Ever the theatrical misunderstood genius, aren’t you?” Holly rolled her eyes, even if she couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped her lips. She nudged his shoulder playfully with her own, a show of affection. “Myles and Beckett adore you immensely—you know that, right?” Artemis beamed, warmed by Holly’s laughter and the comfort of being close to friends and family once more. He watched his sleeping brothers, curled closely towards each other much like two peas in a pod, before he turned his gaze back to the sculptures in his hands. “I know,” he said softly, still marvelling at the twins’ recreations of Jayjay and Lady Maeve. And for the barest of moments, in the quiet that stretch comfortably between them, Artemis Fowl knew that this may only be the start of the first (of many) Eldest Brother’s Day he would experience, but it was already a very good day nonetheless. And he was content. —End—

[arecomicsevengood]

More Quarantine Movies

Going to put up this log of what I’ve seen now, as some of the stuff I liked the most is leaving The Criterion Channel at the end of the month. I really don’t know if anyone gets anything out of these posts, these are mostly synopses and they’re maybe spoiler-heavy. Let me give you the gist of it now: Otto Preminger’s a really good filmmaker whose movies are really interesting, Jean Arthur’s a great actress who enlivens everything and is also in a bunch of good-to-great movies. Also, I didn’t write about it but I rewatched Death Race 2000, that movie rules, feels relevant to today’s politics, and is leaving Criterion Channel at the end of the month.

The Pawnbroker (1964) dir. Sidney Lumet

Based on novel by Edward Lewis Wallant, whose The Tenants Of Moonbloom was reprinted by NYRB Classics with a Dave Eggers intro. Also some of the earliest nudity in a mainstream American film. About the misanthropy of a holocaust survivor, living in New York City, and interacting with black people who vaguely feel like racist caricatures, in part because it’s a movie about a misanthrope told from his perspective. A ton of movies about race from this era feel dated, this feels legitimately edgy, which is a term that gets thrown around somewhat ironically now or viewed as a pejorative, like something trying to offend, this does feel like a genuine attempt to be honest and push things forward (I really was not expecting that nudity) but also doesn’t feel totally successful, definitely not particularly enjoyable.

Shockproof (1949) dir. Douglas Sirk

I haven’t seen Sirk’s later melodramas, this one intrigued me in part because the screenplay was written by Samuel Fuller, and it’s sort of a pulpy noir thing. A woman, fresh out of jail, ends up living with her parole officer who is trying to keep her on the straight and narrow and away from her criminal ex, but they end up falling in love. There’s a thing where the male lead’s younger brother talks about how the lady is beautiful that I sort of wish wasn’t in there, feels creepy to me. There’s a bit of a shift in the narrative with the third act, where the lovers end up on the run, the once-upstanding man now a criminal on account of love, but they are having the endurance of their love tested by circumstance, is one of those things where a story which felt somewhat unique over the course of its telling shifts into something more recognizable.

…And The Pursuit Of Happiness (1986) dir Louis Malle

I have watched most of Louis Malle’s feature films at this point, I believe, and had a vague curiosity about what his documentaries were like. This one, made shortly after he’d moved to the U.S. and married Candice Bergen (something that comes up in Susan Seidelman’s Smithereens, in that some prostitutes read aloud from a fashion magazine that discusses it) he made a film talking to various recent immigrants. He covers a lot of ground, covering people working as doctors, large communities living in housing projects and causing racial tension with black neighbors (who both resent the smell of the food they cook but also suspect they don’t know their rights as the property developers plan to evict everyone and have the projects demolished). By and large everyone spoke to believes in the notion of the American dream of working hard to get ahead. Malle also speaks to anti-immigration think tank people and border patrols. Nothing too surprising but a lot of ground gets covered in a short amount of time. If I didn’t learn anything I at least admired that it felt non-didactic. Anything with more of a point of view or an argument would probably be disingenuous were it to present itself as enlightening.

The Baron Of Arizona (1950) dir. Samuel Fuller

Based on a true story, although with fictionalized elements, about a dude (played by Vincent Price) who becomes a master forger to falsify land grants and claim the entire state of Arizona as his own. Not a great movie, though that’s an interesting story. I bet I could guess what elements were made up for the sake of making a movie out of it, it has this tension of being interesting and unbelievable (although unbelievable by way of rote moviemaking formula), but also the story takes place over an extended period of time and so has some of the structureless feeling of a biopic.

House On Haunted Hill (1959) dir. William Castle

I’m going to confuse this with The Haunting Of Hill House for my entire life, that’s just the way it is. This stars Vincent Price, who’s always great, doing the famous premise where a group of people meet up to spend the night at a haunted house to win money. Vincent Price has a contentious relationship with his wife, who’s openly contemptuous of him and wants his money. There’s a moment where everyone at the house party is given a gun, each in a coffin. There’s a few “twists” all sort of being of the “there was a rational, non-ghost reason for everything” although any of them individually sort of strain the limits of credulity as something that works as a hoax. Vincent Price is basically not the villain, so much as his wife is, although he’s such a ham that loves being creepy that this again strains credibility in that the conclusion of the movie plays against the style with which the previous action has been presented. An enjoyable viewing experience.

My Name Is Julia Ross (1945) dir. Joseph Lewis

This one’s about a woman, looking for work, who falls into a scheme that kidnaps her and puts her up in a mansion, where she’s kept drugged and basically is told to assume the identity of a woman who was killed. I found this one pretty nerve-wracking, as it’s pretty nightmarish, basically about psychological torture. I found this one under Criterion Channel’s Columbia Noir collection, but before these films were considered noir, they were thought of as melodramas, but it’s also sort of a horror film about being gaslighted. There’s a part where they remove a stairwell and try to trick her into falling down? What’s funny is that one of the things that sort of separates this from horror is how quickly it resolves, whereas later work would I think give the audience the satisfaction of seeing the villain be punished in some way, the ending that just goes “then everything worked out alright” ends up making the structure feel more like the whole movie’s reason for being is just to see the protagonist suffer.

God Told Me To (1976) dir. Larry Cohen

Did I write about this already? I watched that a few months ago. Pretty wild basis in seventies grit about people going crazy, committing murders, then goes to a weird/confusing place involving some sort of holy entity in human form, the police procedural aspect butting up against this strangeness which doesn’t feel entirely thought through, and is in fact sort of incoherent, makes for a movie that is, in fact, still pretty good and worth watching although a bit tedious by the end.

Zombi Child (2019) dir. Bertrand Bonello

This I guess just came out in America this year, to the extent that anything came out this year, in theaters, it coming to streaming is basically its release. The zombies in this are of the old-school voodoo sense, taken seriously as a system of belief juxtaposed against French colonialism, as a Haitian teen feels at odds with her circle of friends, flashbacks to Haiti occur. When you watch a bunch of older movies new movies just seem to be not as good. Bonello’s not a bad filmmaker though, he’s able to capture a sort of sensual aspect of particular moments and moods, just not in a way where they then coalesce into a narrative of shifting emotion.

Anatomy Of A Murder (1959) dir. Otto Preminger

This movie is close to three hours long.  It has a Law And Order procedural quality, taking up much of its second half with a courtroom drama, where Jimmy Stewart does a proto-Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer routine. He’s protecting a man accused of murdering the woman who raped his wife. The subject was surely shocking for its time. It becomes pretty clear, extremely quickly that the husband is an abusive piece of shit, but the main thrust of the narrative is still tasked with following the lawyer trying to get him off. Lee Remick, from Experiment In Terror plays the beautiful and doomed wife, who flirts with Jimmy Stewart. Some of these interactions feel weird from a modern perspective, because Stewart’s reaction is like “Yes, you’re a beautiful woman and any red-blooded American male would enjoy looking at you, but it is my duty as a lawyer to paternalistically insist you cover up!” Preminger is sort of known for pushing the envelope, and this one has a lot more talking about sperm and Lee Remick’s vagina than you’d expect. One of the things that’s meant to be a “quirky character detail” is that Jimmy Stewart is into jazz- The score, by Duke Ellington, is great, but there’s also a pretty corny cameo by Duke Ellington where Jimmy Stewart sits in with him, a second pair of hands on the piano. Still, I guess it’s better that he physically appears in the movie than there just being a scene where it implies Duke’s music is played by Jimmy Stewart, as the music is way too good to just be a lawyer’s quirky hobby. George C Scott, from Hardcore, plays the legal expert on the other side. After being pretty long, there is this sort of abrupt, (although well-foreshadowed) downbeat ending, where the jealous and abusive husband flees town to avoid paying his lawyer and to go somewhere quiet he can beat his wife to death, but said ending is played for this “you can’t win them all I guess, shame about the lower classes” quality from Stewart, who is dead broke all movie but seems like he just enjoyed being able to do work for once, even if it’s for a total shitbag. Good movie! Feels thorny and interesting.

Bunny Lake Is Missing (1965) dir. Otto Preminger

This is even better. Great Saul Bass credits sequence too. A psychological thriller where the disappearance of a child gives way to the police not being able to confirm the child is real, and doubting the mother’s sanity, becoming pretty nightmarish, dreamy, and exhilarating by turns. Gets to a place of “huh, I wonder what is going on” and then when that finally resolves there’s a pretty extended sequence of silent escaping/hiding, which is, one of those things that films do really well and is super-satisfying. It plays out amidst this background filled with interesting supporting characters, who all, for the first half of the movie, feel like moving parts in this somewhat inscrutable narrative machine.

The Man With The Golden Arm (1955) dir. Otto Preminger

This one I don’t like. Stars Frank Sinatra, who I find annoying, as a recovering heroin addict who relapses again. While I normally like the sort of scenery-chewing supporting cast that shows up in Preminger things, I really didn’t Sinatra’s nerdy best friend, or his wife with Munchausen’s syndrome. While with the other Preminger movies there’s this feeling of a slow reveal of what the plot is with this one I feel like as soon as you know that Sinatra is out of rehab (which you learn pretty quickly) you can guess the movie will be about how he relapses and then tries to get sober for real.

The Human Factor (1979) dir. Otto Preminger

Preminger’s final movie, based on a Graham Greene novel, featuring Iman making her film debut. Movie is mostly about intelligence agencies seeking out the mole in their mist, with intentions to kill whoever it is once they’re certain. It stars Richard Attenborough, as the source of the leaks. Halfway through the story becomes interspersed with flashbacks about Attenborough and Iman’s romance upon meeting in Africa. Continues the habit of ending on a moment that maybe feels like it should be expanded upon or made more resonant.

Bonjour Tristesse (1958) dir. Otto Preminger

This stars Jean Seberg as a teenager being raised by a single father, David Niven, who’s kind of a cad/ladies man who’s very permissive with his daughter, who seems likely to grow up rich and spoiled and find another rich man to take care of her. Deborah Kerr plays the woman who Niven ends up falling in love for real with, and the conflict is then between this woman taking on a maternal role and a daughter who is resentful of this. Deborah Kerr is in Black Narcissus, a movie I love, and here she comes off as smart, the voice of reason. Seberg destroys her father’s relationship by taking advantage of his sort of innate desire to flirt and be liked by women, driving Kerr to commit suicide, and the whole film is then told in flashback by Jean Seberg a year later, as she flirts with boys but has a great sadness and emotional distance about her, which is both inherited and self-inflicted. I’m partly just writing these plot summaries as my way of remembering what these movies are about, but this one is nice because I get to account for complicated characters who are both pretty eminently understandable. I keep getting hung up on the fact that movies today now have a much dumber idea of what a female character is. Maybe it’s something as basic as the fact that, as people read less, it’s rarer for literary novels to be adapted? As I talk in terms of “less good roles for women nowadays,” which is a cliche, it’s obvious enough that bad roles for men follow, as everyone is only as good or interesting as who they’re playing off of.

It’s also funny to think, in this era of “comic book movies,” that very few artists can make a character come to life with body language and facial expression the way an actor can. “Literary” cartoonists like Dan Clowes or Tomine play into the mask quality drawing creates, generating inscrutability as part of their effect. Many of the biggest names in “noir” comics are removed from the melodrama elements of actor’s performance in favor of an aesthetic based on paperback covers, which makes for something far less lively. Meanwhile, Blutch is an amazing artist who would probably do a great job telling lively character studies in a genre form, but he’s way more preoccupied with these Godard-style interrogations of film’s cultural meaning.

Separate Tables (1958) dir. Delbert Mann

From the same year as Bonjour Tristesse, and also featuring David Niven and Deborah Kerr. Deborah Kerr’s good in this- while she is sort of uptight in a maternal way in Bonjour Tristesse, here she’s sort of crippled by repression her mother imposes on her. It’s a totally different character, but she remains defined by various manifestations of repressed energy; I would say she’s most known for playing a nun in Black Narcissus. She’s again opposite Niven in a sort of romantic context, though Niven’s character is meant to be a neurotic freak and he’s not really convincing in that capacity. I couldn’t really work out what the deal is with Niven’s character, he gets arrested in a theater, seemingly because he takes his dick out to show women? Or that’s how I interpreted what was being discussed, but he’s mostly defended by everyone except this lady you’re supposed to hate for how domineering and judgmental she is so maybe it’s something less bad. I honestly couldn’t figure it out because it seemed like the thing I was guessing they couldn’t talk about. This movie also features Burt Lancaster and Rita Hayworth as a couple that broke up once before and are reuniting now. This movie is pretty dull in a way I didn’t know whether to attribute to it being British or it being based on a play, as it feels extremely both.

Seance On A Wet Afternoon (1964) dir. Bryan Forbes

This one’s British too, and features the quality I recognize from British television, where the stars are not attractive, which always feels surprising. This one’s got a pretty great title, and a great premise. This woman, a professional psychic, convinces her husband to kidnap a child so she can comfort the parents and get publicity. The cinematography’s great. I got pretty nervous watching this, I think I am feeling more sensitive to movies as of late, way more willing to find things upsetting and nerve-wracking than usual. I can partly attribute this to the feeling of taking something in from a different cultural context, that leaves me unsure what to expect, but it’s also true that nowadays I sort of constantly have this feeling of “I don’t know how bad things are going to get” about the world in general, and it makes sense that I would apply that to films.

Only Angels Have Wings (1939) dir. Howard Hawks

Jean Arthur’s amazing in this - saw her the first time in The Devil And Miss Jones and then there’s this whole Criterion Channel featurette video running through what her whole deal is: This vulnerability/innocence crossed with an attempted toughness that really is very charming. Here she plays an entertainer just stopping briefly in town who gets hit on by some pilots, and develops feelings of impossible love for a man (played by Cary Grant) whose insistent toughness and refusal to show fear (despite having a dangerous job, of a pilot, that makes everyone who cares about him fall to pieces with nervousness). It’s this very universal type of entertainment, where there’s all these special effects shots of planes flying and a drama of men being men that’s nonetheless anchored by this love story, carried by the fact that Jean Arthur is very real and complex. She’s also a legit comedic actress, which I think makes her feel richer and more watchable than someone without a sense of humor would be. Rita Hayworth plays Grant’s ex, a woman who couldn’t take his daredevil ways but is now married to another pilot who has to do dangerous flights essentially to make up for an act of cowardice that got someone else killed. She’s got her own charisma obviously (and Cary Grant’s equally solid, in this sort of old-Hollywood glamor way) but Jean Arthur feels very alive in a way that carries the movie.

The Talk Of The Town (1942) dir. George Stevens

This one also stars Jean Arthur opposite Cary Grant, but it’s less interesting, partly because of a domestic setting and some stale-seeming comedy. Cary Grant plays Lionel Dilg, (great name!) who breaks out of prison and hides out in Jean Arthur’s attic, with a hobbled ankle, while a preeminent legal scholar moves in. There’s a love triangle between the three of them, and a friendship between the escapee and the scholar. Grant’s been unfairly framed for arson for political reasons by his boss for pointing out the factory where he works is a death trap. The people of the town are easily turned against this sort of leftist agitator  by a last and biased judge. Insanely enough, there’s a movie called “The Whole Town’s Talking” also starring Jean Arthur but it has no relation to this one.

The Ex-Mrs. Bradford (1936) dir. Stephen Roberts

Upon realizing that many of these Jean Arthur movies were leaving the Criterion Channel at the end of the month, I started taking more in. This is a murder mystery, with screwball comedy accents, and again I’d say it’s really good, although the “comedy” premise wherein a woman sort of plows through the life of a man with no real respect for personal boundaries is the sort of thing that works in a movie even though it seems totally nightmarish when looked at from a certain angle. She writes mysteries, he’s a doctor, people are getting murdered. He is played by William Powell, from The Thin Man movies, which maybe these resemble. I guess the bickering couple that solves mysteries is a trope but it’s one that I don’t think has had any currency in popular culture since Moonlighting, which was in my lifetime but before I would have had any awareness of it. (I would probably enjoy it up until the point where I got bored of the formula.) I thought this was great and would make a good double feature with L’Assassin Habite au 21.

History Is Made At Night, 1937, dir. Frank Borzage

This has Jean Arthur in it too, but the reason I became aware of it was Matt Zoller Seitz tweeting about it. Partly this is because the description on the Criterion site is so bare-bones it barely seems like anything, but it turns out this is because the plot is completely insane and has a ton of twists and to talk about them very quickly veers into spoiler territory. It is, in brief, a love story. The first totally insane in it is the handsome male lead does the “drawing a ventriloquist puppet on his hand” thing and the woman’s totally on board. An element that doesn’t spoil the plot, but does seem somewhat incongruent with the tone, is there’s a French chef character for a comic relief. It’s really good. I’m pointing out the lightest element but the story’s villain is believably sociopathic.

Secrets (1933) dir Frank Borzage

Not nearly as cool or good. While History Is Made At Night feels like a cohesive story that’s just pretty crazy, this one feels divided into acts that have nothing in common with each other. First act is romance, between a rich man’s daughter and his banker. They run away together. I’m basically unsure of when this movie takes place timewise, the rich lady is wearing massive layered gowns I know would’ve been out of fashion by 1933. The second act is a western where they make a home together and have to fight off bandits! But the action is shot in a a pretty disinterested manner. Third act, I’m pretty on edge and bored, but the banker is now the governor of California and is having an affair with another woman, and they’re at a party together, and then the ending feels epilogue style as they’re both old as hell and they have fully-grown children and they’re talking about how they’re taking their leave of the kids to discuss their secrets. Female lead is Mary Pickford in her final film role. I guess this is a remake of a silent film, which was itself based on a play. Yeah this movie sucks basically.

Bitter Moon (1992) dir. Roman Polanski

Sure, I’ll watch a sex criminal’s erotic thriller that’s way too long. Hugh Grant is a married guy on a boat who has a French dude talk about all the sex he and his wife have because he knows Hugh Grant wants to fuck his hot wife. Said wife is played by Emmanuelle Seigner, Roman Polanski’s actual wife since 1989. This is a bad movie by pretty much any metric. It kinda feels like the social function of erotic thrillers is not to be a more socially-acceptable form of pornography, but rather to be pervy enough to remind the audience why you shouldn’t talk about sex publicly and have that be your whole thing. The French, of course, misunderstand this.

The Burglar (1957) dir. Paul Wendkos

Another noir, written by David Goodis. This one is a little formulaic, in terms of what you think of crime movies as being “about.” A burglar, who learned the trade from his adopted father, works with that man’s daughter to commit heists. His gang doesn’t like her. Once the two of them are separated, a corrupt cop seeking to steal a burgled necklace for himself tries to pursue a relationship with her as a means to an end, while a woman allied with him works on the burglar. A drive to New Jersey gets stopped by cops, violence quickly escalates to make the situation more dire. Members of the gang die. Not a bad movie but by no means essential.

My Brother’s Wedding (1983) dir. Charles Burnett

Criterion Channel removed the paywall for a bunch of Black-made independent films, this is one of them, Burnett’s follow-up to Killer Of Sheep. Seemingly starring non-professional actors, it’s about the conflict a guy feels as his brother is planning to get married to a rich woman he resents, and the loyalty he feels to a guy who just got out of prison who everybody hates. The main character is a good dude who wants to help out this pretty dangerous friend the best he can. The film captures his pride and resentment.

Dial M For Murder (1954) dir. Alfred Hitchcock

A few iconic-seeming shots of Grace Kelly in the role of a Hitchcock blonde, i.e. her standing at a phone while someone looms behind her about to choke her, and later standing traumatized. Suffers a bit from clearly being based on a play, with a ton of dialogue, particularly in the second act. The first act is able to provide this very particular type of satisfaction, where someone outlines a “perfect crime” in dialogue and then we see it play out and it falls apart and happens completely differently. It’s funny the criminal gives themselves away due to mistaking one key for another, because this sort of structure really does feel like a key fitting into a lock, things perfectly designed for one another, parceled out at the right time.

[madphantom]

Phantasm - Chapter 16

The judge and jury were all there, the accusers and accused, all the witnesses, just one person was missing - the attorney.

Phoenix nervously checked her watch. "Where the hell is she?"

"She'll be late, but on time," was all Winslow said. Phoenix rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, without knocking, the door flew open. A woman in black combat boots, black leather and a biker helmet marched into the room.

"Sorry, I'm late," she apologized, taking off the helmet and freeing her blonde curls. "Traffic." It was Emmy.

"Miss Leach, you are, in fact, very late," the judge said.

She shrugged it off and sat down. "Continue."

"And you are the attorney?", the judge asked in disbelief. "Are you sure you're the right person?"

"If I weren't sure who I am we'd have a problem." She smiled coldly. "But I am. Emmeline Joan Leach. Here to accuse the Swan foundation and Death Records company of the false accusation, imprisonment and murder of Winslow Leach. Tada."

Phoenix gave her a tiny thumbs up and Emmy winked at her.

The judge sighed. "All right. Prosecution? You may call your first witness."

It was Casey English, one of the two singers Winslow and Phoenix had met at Swanage. Quietly she told the judge about how she'd talked to Winslow, how he'd told her it was his music and how she'd been raped by Philbin.

The judge nodded. "Okay. Prosecution? You may call the second witness."

"How many witnesses are there?", Jenny whispered to Phoenix as Joan stepped forward.

"Twenty-five," Phoenix replied as quietly as she could.

"Then this is going to be a long night."

Phoenix nodded and sighed. "Yep."

Three hours later, the judge finally, with a sigh, concluded: "Both the prosecution and the defense have now rested their cases. The attorneys will now present their final arguments. Please remember, what the attorneys say is not evidence. However, do listen closely. They are intended to aid you in understanding the case. Prosecution, you may begin." It was dark in the courtroom already. Everyone was too concentrated to switch on the lamp. Neon lights played on the pale faces in the room.

Emmy nodded and stood up, once again showing her towering height. She was 6'5. The neon lights played with her long blonde curls.

"Thank you, your Honour," she said. "First of all, as you can see, most of the witnesses agree that Swan - or rather the Swan foundation and Death Records company - committed the crimes they were accused of. I can confirm what my sisters and parents already stated. We were not notified of Winslow's death. It was kept a secret. Had everything been completely legal we would have been notified of everything that happened in New York. We weren't." She allowed a dramatic pause during which absolute silence stunned the witnesses of what was about to be the most emotional way to prove someone guilty ever witnessed in court.

"My brother," Emmy began. "Phoned us every week. Now, it happens that during our last phonecall my sisters Ellie and Sandy tried to record it. Here is the result."

A man in a black suit worked on a record player, then it started playing a scratchy recording.

"Hello?", Winslow's ghostly voice echoed through the courtroom.

"Winslow!" That was Lucy. "Everybody, Winslow's calling from NYC!"

They heard Winslow's soft giggle on the line. Then Emmy.

"Hey, bro, how's it going?"

"Great! I played after the Juicy Fruits today and guess what happened?"

"You guys, he played after the Juicy Fruits today! What was it?"

"Swan said he'd produce my music!" It hurt how glad and excited Winslow sounded.

"What?!"

"What did he say?" That was Harry.

"Tell us!", Joan begged.

"Swan's producing his music! Did he really say that, Winslow?"

"Yes!" Several people in the courtroom had grown increasingly pale and troubled by the call by now. "Well, actually, he just sent Philbin, his assistant. I gave him my cantata."

"Duuuude." That was Emmy. "That's sick."

"I know, right?" Winslow sounded so happy it nearly broke Phoenix' heart. "Anyway, there's not a lot of news apart from that. My roommate at the hotel moved out because he had no money anymore. But otherwise everything's going normal. How are things in Dunphy?"

"Oh, nothing new." Emmy sighed. "Dad started meeting up with James Cavill to play chess. The twins are trying to evoke Satan, but that's nothing new. It's boring here without ya."

Winslow's smile was audible. "I promise I'll be back soon." Somebody in the courtroom legit sobbed. Everyone turned their head a little and saw it was Mary Margaret Amato.

"A-apologies," she stuttered and wiped a tear off her cheek.

"See you soon then," Emmy said in the recording. "Love ya, bro."

"Love you too, Emmy. Love you all out there."

With a quiet click the recording ended.

"This, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the last thing Winslow Leach has said to us," Emmy finished. "Tada."

The jury stared at each other. Some had tears in their eyes. Then they left to discuss the case. When they came back the case was clear.

"Herb Pacheco, Ernie Brown, Timothy Spencer, Mark Henston, Bruce Fredricks, Jim Grover and Jake Alberto are guilty of aiding Swan with theft, murder, attempted murder, imprisonment and sexual abuse."

"Life!", the judge exclaimed.

"Carlyla Bowie and Mary Margaret Amato are guilty of aiding Swan with theft."

"Three years!"

"Howard Rice, Jack Wesfield and Joe Hart guilty of corruption."

"Five years!" The judge leaned back. "I would like to add something personal from my side. I thoroughly studied this case before judging it and the murder of Winslow Leach is the worst death I have ever witnessed - and I've been a judge for nearly fifty years. I just want to say one thing to everyone responsible for it." He leaned forward. "May you rot in hell!"

The witnesses cheered and clapped. Somebody finally thought of switching on the light.

"We'll celebrate, how about that?", Joan said. "Emmy, congratulations, you won the case for us!"

"Thanks, mum." Emmy was blushing.

"How about a pool party back home in Dunphy?", Joan suggested. "Phoenix, do you want to come?"

She smiled, leaning against Winslow. "Sure."

It was dark when they got into their cars. The roads were empty. Phoenix fell asleep. Winslow drove her to Dunphy.

By the time morning dawned they arrived.

[walkingshcdow-a]

One of the things that has plagued me since seeing the 2015 film is how little we know about Finnegan. This has, of course, allowed me plenty of liberty in my portrayal of him. However, the following things have plagued me since seeing the film: why is Finnegan’s family the third richest family in England, why does he own a castle, why is his castle in Scotland, but his last name is Irish, and his accent is painfully posh?

Ladies and gentlemen, I have finally found an answer.

I long ago reasoned that if Finnegan/his family owns a castle in Scotland - Castle Erskine - they must be nobility. Today, it occurred to me to actually Google ‘Castle Erskine’ to see if such a place existed. (Strangely, I Googled Erskine long before this and found out that it is near Glasgow, but I digress).

Castle Erskine is fictional; however, the Clan Erskine is a very real and prominent family in the Scottish peerage. To this day, the Erskines have several castle holdings throughout the UK - predominantly Scotland and England - but that their biggest claim to fame is the Earldom of Mar. Mar is a province in northeastern Scotland. The Earldom of Mar is actually thought to be the oldest peerage in Great Britain. This accounts for both Finnegan having a castle and vast sums of wealth… If he is an Erskine, he is definitely from a very powerful family.

His supreme Britishness can easily be attributed to an upbringing and education in London - never mind the pressure for members of the Scottish peerage (and Irish peerage, but I’ll get to that in a second) to conform to British culture.

Now, to address Finnegan’s Irish last name… And make no mistake, “Finnegan” is his last name, not his first name. How do we know this? Because the name “Finnegan” is always attributed to a family by other characters. Inspector Turpin recognizes the crest upon Finnegan’s coach - the one Victor and Igor escape to - as “a Finnegan family coach.” Not as one man’s coach, but a family’s. This is further reinforced when the chief of Scotland Yard asks Turpin about “conspiracies involving one of England’s richest families”. Where, then, would an Irish family have a (maternal) claim to such a prestigious Scottish title?

When I was getting my undergraduate degree, I had to read a book called “The Absentee” by Maria Edgeworth. The novel is all about absentee-landlords, social (in)justice, and true love. It’s really not my favorite book ever, but I’m grateful I read it because it taught me that there were Irish peers - or, more specifically Anglo-Irish peers - who traded their loyalty from Ireland to the British crown and during the 19th century, made a lot of money off their landholdings in Ireland. Many of them seldom traveled to Ireland and assimilated to English culture and to the ways of the English peerage. Which means, then, that if Finnegan’s father was an Anglo-Irish peer, he could easily marry into the Erskine Clan. I do not yet have any inkling as to what his actual rank is. He could be an Earl… or he could be something even higher, which is entirely possible.

What, then, is Finnegan’s title?

Due to complicated politics, there are two Earls of Mar at any given time - something that actually happened in 1875. Although it is never explicitly stated in the film, the costume designer of the 2015 film has been quoted in the special features as saying that it takes place in 1861 - before the legal division of the title, but during its dispute. I cannot find as much as I’d like about the dispute if I wanted to incorporate real historical figures…

So this is the part where I make up something.

It is my belief that Finnegan’s mother is or was styled as the Countess of Mar and that his father must have been of equal or higher rank. This means that it is entirely possible Finnegan had/has a claim to an Earldom (two, if we situate him on the side that became Earl of Kellie and of Mar) through his mother’s bloodline.

This means that Finnegan - if he was the oldest son or the only son - would have been a viscount at the outset… which makes his attendance at medical school puzzling. Therefore, he must not have been the oldest son.

Here’s where we veer totally into the land of headcanons and parallelism. Buckle up, if you haven’t already, and keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle.

I believe that canon-era Finnegan must have - at some point - had an older brother. However, from what we’ve seen of Finnegan, he has no loyalty to anyone but himself and his predominant trait is ambition. We know that he is a ruthless man and has no qualms about attempting to drown someone in the Thames in broad daylight.

So imagine instead Finnegan as a second son. Imagine Finnegan beginning life desperate to rise above his station and prove that he is as worthy or worthier than his brother. Imagine him being indulged materially but with distant, even somewhat neglectful, parents and imagine him getting the notion that if he attended medical school, he could commit the perfect murder. Imagine Finnegan literally going to medical school with the intent to kill his brother in an undetectable manner so he could inherit the earldom. Imagine him pitching the idea to his parents that the future lies in scientific innovation and as he will never be more than The Honorable Michael Finnegan, he might as well carve his own path. Imagine him receiving an expensive, comprehensive education. Imagine him killing his brother in a way that looks like an accident or an illness and feeling no remorse.

Now, compare that to Victor Frankenstein, who believes his brother’s death is all his fault when in reality it wasn’t.

Whether Finnegan pulls of this crime before canon or not is up for debate. I imagine that he did not since the Earldom survives to this day  (The current Countess of Mar seems super cool; she’s all about medical reform, incidentally). It seems unlikely that he has since no one is referring to him as if he were a viscount (or higher, since his father’s title is uncertain), but it certainly is possible that he has killed his brother and has inherited a title if you adhere to my (erroneous) headcanon that Victor’s father is a baron. Two sons of noblemen would probably refer to one another by last name (or first, if they’re friends, but lbr… Victor and Finnegan are not friends).

So at the end of the day, in verses that adhere to canon, Finnegan would be addressed as “The Honorable Michael Finnegan”.

In verses where he survived his fall - or the fall does not exist - and he succeeds in murdering the competition, his title would be Michael Finnegan of Mar, Viscount of Mar. (I think) and then, later, Michael Finnegan of Mar, Earl of Mar. Judging by the timeline of the actual family line, Finnegan would be the 27th Earl of Mar in the 19th century.

And this, of course, is only taking his mother’s heritage into consideration. Who knows what holdings his father has in England and Ireland?

Now, most of you will know this by now, but I play Finnegan predominantly in his modern-verse. Presuming that his family still holds a peerage, with the knowledge that his parents have died and that his unmarried, childless aunt holds the title of Countess of Mar, she’d be (approximately) the 30th/31st Countess of Mar (in real life, the 31st Countess of Mar holds the title). This means that when Finnegan’s aunt dies and Finnegan inherits the earldom, he will become Lord Michael Finnegan, 32nd Earl of Mar. Which is pretty rad, if you ask me.  

[sandstonesunspear]

Superwoman: An Interview With DEO Director Lucy Lane

Inspired by that article in Women’s Health Magazine with Jenna Dewan that came out this morning. 

Thanks to @nerdsbianhokie for letting me run with Dylan for this.

AO3

XX-XX-2020

A CatCo Exclusive by Kara Danvers

It’s been six months since the Daxamite Invasion and the public appearance of the DEO. In that time, no had been able to get an interview with the DEO Director. At least, that had been the case right up until last week.

First thing’s first: DEO Director Lucy Lane smells amazing. Hints of cinnamon with an underlying base made of jasmine and roses linger in the air as she walks into the room. I find out later that it’s a very exclusive scent. Only one bottle exists, and it was custom made by her 5-year-old son, Dylan, with the help of one of her partners. He also made a second bottle with a different scent and named both of them: Dinosaur Dreams and Fierce T. Rex, the latter of which she’s wearing right today.

Out of all the topics we discuss today, it’s talking about her son that makes Lucy beam. “He’s a great kid,” she says. “He’s one of my biggest motivators for the work that I do, both as the Director of the DEO and as a lawyer.” Dressed in a crisp black polo, black cargo pants tucked into polished black boots, everything about Lucy matches the perfume she’s wearing.

Her fierceness is only amplified by the extensive list of her accomplishments: top of her class at West Point, promoted below the zone twice before the age of 25, a Signal Officer turned JAG after  graduating top of her class from the prestigious Harvard School of Law, and now Director of a semi-clandestine federal agency. It’s only a fraction of Lucy Lane’s incredible pedigree. All of it is worthy of awe. Of course, express that to her and the woman who served two tours in Afghanistan blushes and waves compliments away. “I’m just a soldier,” she insists. A soldier who became well-renowned within the legal community, both civilian and military, for her prosecution of the Hector Alvarez, a former Army Captain who was, at one point, the top lieutenant of the Reynosa Cartel. Thanks to Lucy’s efforts, Alvarez is now serving multiple life sentences at Fort Leavenworth for a litany of charges that include felony drug possession with the intent to distribute and murder.

Extensive pedigree aside, Lucy herself was never a stranger to the life and burdens of being a soldier. The daughter of General Sam Lane, a man who has gained a great deal of infamy in recent years for his vocal and vehement anti-alien rhetoric, Lucy was ingrained with a sense of duty long before she ever assumed the position of DEO Director. That sense of duty has kept her humble and it shows, both in how quick she is to dismiss compliments and in her actions.

Halfway through our interview, an alarm goes off. An agent bursts in moments after to inform Lucy of an alien attack by the docks. She’s out of the office and in the command center seconds later, barking out orders and demanding visuals. When it becomes apparent that the squad at the docks needs backup, Lucy doesn’t hesitate to suit up and enter the fray herself. When she returns an hour later, it’s with all of her agents by her side. I stand against the wall as Lucy makes her way to medbay, checking on the wounded and waving away medical help for herself until all of her people have been taken care of.

“Sorry,” Lucy apologises as she settles back into her plush leather seat in her office. By now, her arm is in a sling and there’s a bandage on her forehead. On anyone else, it would be a sight for concern, but the warm grin sitting firmly on her lips ultimately puts me at ease. She’s happy to inform me that all of her people made it back in one piece. I assure her that it’s fine just as her phone chimes. It’s Dylan’s father, James Olsen, Editor-in-Chief of Catco Magazine and Lucy’s ex-boyfriend. They share custody of Dylan.  

When I ask if there’s any tension with that arrangement, Lucy just laughs. She fires off a quick text to James, letting him know that she’s fine and that she’ll be there tonight to pick Dylan up, before providing me with a more concrete response. “There’s no tension at all,” she assures me. “James and I live pretty close to each other, so even on the days where one of us doesn’t have custody of Dylan, chances are that we’ll still get to see him.”

“Do you think you and James would ever get married to take the custody arrangement out of the equation?” It’s a question that’s been floating around National City ever since news of Dylan’s parentage broke. To my surprise, Lucy shakes her head. “Nope. Jimmy’s a great guy, I wouldn’t have dated him if he hadn’t been, but he and I wanted different things,” she tells me. “We both love Dylan, but James and I being together isn’t what’s best for him. Besides, James’s been eyeing a lucky lady lately.” She gives me a wink, like she knows more than she’s going to let on. “And I have my partners.”

Partners. Plural, as in more than one. Rumours that Lucy was in a relationship with two women had been going around ever since she was seen attending various charity galas in the city with two different women.

I ask if she’s concerned with the backlash she might get by revealing that she’s in a polyamorous relationship. Being the daughter of a prominent military official and being a prominent lawyer herself, Lucy’s familiar with having public scrutiny aimed at her. But she’s not concerned. “I’m in a healthy, committed relationship,” she tells me. “I just happen to be in one with two women.”

Lucy tells me a little about the women she’s involved with. “They’re both incredibly smart and know their way around firearms. And they’re great with Dylan. He loves the both of them as well.” As to who exactly her partners are, she remains tight lipped. “A lawyer doesn’t kiss and tell,” she says, her grin turning cheeky.

It’s hard to believe that a woman of Lucy’s position and history could be so human, but that humanity is something she strives to exemplify for her son. “I don’t want my son to look at me and think that he has to be cruel or hard to get by in the world.” She wants Dylan to understand that kindness and warmth and being human aren’t weakness, they’re strengths. “I want him to see me and Jimmy and my partners and be like, ‘There’s nothing wrong with helping another person or with being kind.’” It’s a surprising admission, given her line of work, but it’s certainly not unwelcome. If anything, it makes her seem even more human. “Of course, you’ve got people who have very different opinions but,” She gives a casual shrug as best she can with one arm in a sling. “They’re not raising my son.”

I realise towards the end of our interview that neither of us has mentioned the elephant in the room: her last name. The nameplate on her desk is a stark reminder. DIRECTOR LUCY A. LANE. Lucy notices where my eyes are at. Her smile turns sardonic. She assures me that she received her job entirely based on merit and that she wholeheartedly does not support her father’s views. It sounds so rote, like she’s had to say it a thousand times, it makes my heart break for her.

It’s obvious that even with the power her last name carries, Lucy is very much a self-made woman. “I’ve fought tooth and nail to get where I am,” she says. The law degree on prominent display makes that much clear. “I’ve had to fight even harder to get seen as my own person and not as ‘General Lane’s daughter’ or ‘Lois’s little sister.’ I might’ve joined the army for my father, but I stayed for myself and I’ve done over the years has been to make a difference through my own effort.” I’m reminded of something that Lucy said earlier in the day, about why she decided to pursue law instead of staying in the Signal Corps. “Lois writes about the world’s problems and our father adds to the world’s problems, so I decided I wanted to fix the world’s problems,” she said, glancing out the window and towards the city her agency was tasked with protecting.

We end the day much like we started it: with Lucy gearing up for another confrontation, only this time it’s not a physical one, it’s a socio-political one. In two weeks time, Lucy will be on Capitol Hill testifying to the Senate on behalf of the aliens who fought alongside the DEO and NCPD during the Daximite Invasion six months ago. It’s stunning move for the head of an organisation that hadn’t been on friendly terms with the alien community. But in a way, given the kind of woman Lucy is, it makes sense. “I believe that everyone has the right to due process and justice regardless of species or homeplanet,” Lucy tells me as we wind down. Having gotten to know Lucy as well as I have over the course of a day, I can tell that it’s an earnest statement.

I ask if she’s worried about the upcoming Senate hearing. Lucy flashes me a smile. “Not at all. If anything, the Senate panel’s scared of me. I’m a powerful bisexual woman with a biracial son and two girlfriends, after all.” Her confidence and cheek is infectious and I find myself smiling right alongside her. Lucy Lane wears many hats: soldier, lawyer, leader, mother. But those hats only tell part of her story. The whole, overarching story behind Lucy can be summed up as thus: she’s an amazing woman. Simple as that.

[argyle-s]

THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME CHAPTER 28/38

Rating: Mature

Read at Ao3

Start at the Beginning

Leslie airs her annual 'Things I’m Not Grateful For' segment.

Author’s Note:   Early Chapter today, because I have an 8:30 AM appointment.  Also,  I don't usually specifically ask for comments, but in this case, I'm going to make an exception. I am super excited to finally post this chapter. A *lot* went into this chapter, and it's really close to my heart. I would really love to know what you guys think, so even if you don't normally, please consider leaving a comment, or dropping me an ask or message letting me know what you think.

Thanks to @ifourmindbeso for her great work as a beta. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Chapter 28 - The First Law of Rao

“I wish I could stay longer,” Kara said as she hugged Astra tightly.

“I understand, Little One,” Astra said. “I am happy for you. It’s good that you have family here.”

Kara let her go, so she could step back and look her in the eye. “You are a part of that family, Astra.” She said. “And soon, you’ll be able to join us.”

“I keep warning you not to get your hopes up,” Astra said. “If your President honors her word about my followers, I will be content.”

“I won’t be,” Kara said. “/.ukiemodh w rraop , eh ,astruh,/”

“/.ukiem w rrip , eh shed kir./ Now, go, be with your family.”

Kara gave Astra one last hug, before she headed back into the main DEO facility.

“How’s your Aunt?” J’onn asked as Kara walked into the conference room.

“Still expecting to spend the rest of her life in a cage,” Kara said as she took a seat across from J’onn at the table.

“We’re working as fast as we can, Miss Danvers,” J’onn said.

“I know,” Kara said. “I just wish she could come home with me for the Holiday. For that matter, I wish you’d consider coming to Thanksgiving Dinner too.”

“Someone’s got to mind the store while you and Alex are gone,” J’onn said. “Besides, I don’t think Eliza would be happy to see me.”

“She would be once she knows the truth,” Kara said.

“You’re going to tell her everything” J’onn asked.

“No,” Kara said. “For the same reasons I’m not going to tell Kal.”

J’onn nodded, but before he could say anything, the video screen on the wall turned on, and President Marsdin appeared.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Madam President,” J’onn and Kara both replied.

Marsdin shifted her gaze to Supergirl. “I have to tell you, Supergirl. You are making a *lot* of waves on Capitol Hill right now. Half of Congress loves you, and the other half wants to shoot you back into space.”

“Well, Cat always says, if you don’t make at least one politician a day hate you, it’s not worth getting out of bed.” Kara said.

Marsdin laughed. “Anything you want to tell me about what I should be expecting next?”

“The Maxwell Lord situation is probably going to get really ugly once people have had a chance to read the Planet and the Tribune,” Kara said.

“Wonderful,” Marsdin deadpanned. “You do know he has something like forty billion dollars in government contracts right now?”

Kara shrugged. “Next time, maybe make sure you’re not hiring a sociopathic murderer?”

“I’ll take it under advisement.” She turned to J’onn. “Director Henshaw, how are our guests doing?”

“They’ve settled into the temporary accommodations fairly well, though most of them had to double up, since we got a lot more than we expected. We’re working on trying to find a more permanent housing solution, but until we have official word on how we’re going to handle their status, we can’t put anything solid into effect.”

“Understandable,” Marsdin said. “That’s actually what this call is about. I’d like you to put together a list for me of all the DEO’s current prisoners who you would consider to be safe for integration into the general population. Anyone whose only real crime is being an alien, or who only committed crimes necessary to survive as an alien on Earth. Also, any prisoners whose original sentence in Fort Rozz has been served, and hasn’t committed any serious crimes on Earth. Add to that list General In-Ze and anyone she vouches for. Supergirl, you’ll need to countersign for anyone on General In-Ze’s list.”

“So, we’re really going to put them out on the streets?” J’onn asked.

“The ones who aren’t a threat,” Marsdin said. “As for the rest, we’re going to start trying to integrate them into the legal system. I’ll be assigning a federal prosecutor to review their cases. We’ll be setting up a special court to try them for their crimes, and sentences will include time already served.”

“If you do that, the DEO will have to go public,” J’onn said.

“I think it’s past time for that, don’t you, Director Henshaw?”

J’onn looked over at Kara, then back at the screen. “It would make our jobs a lot easier,” he said.

“Can I make a suggestion?” Kara said.

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t” Marsdin said.

“Assign Lucy Lane to the DEO to help us get the evidence in order for the Federal Prosecutors,” Kara said.

“General Lane’s daughter?” Marsdin asked.

“Yes,” Kara said.

“That seems an odd choice,” Marsdin said.

“Not really. First, she already knows my civilian identity,” Kara said. “Considering that she’s Lois Lane’s sister, and is involved with James Olsen, it seemed reasonable that she could keep that a secret. Secondly, she’s an amazing lawyer, with an impeccable record. Third, the fact that she *is* Sam Lane’s daughter will help deflect any criticism that you’re going soft on the aliens.”

“You know, Supergirl, sometimes it’s a little scary how comfortable you are with political maneuvering.”

“I spent the last year working for Cat Grant. What did you expect?”

“Based on her previous assistants, ulcers, premature gray hair, and severe anxiety.”

Kara laughed. “There are benefits to a Kryptonian physiology,” she said.

“I’m sure.”

“How quickly do you want the list, Madam President?” J’onn asked.

“I’ll be signing the Alien Amnesty Act first thing Monday morning. I’d like the first stack of Pardons ready for signature at that time. But I do want to be clear. Many of the pardons will be contingent on a period of public service.”

“Understood,” J’onn said.

“Are you okay with that, Supergirl?” Marsdin asked.

“As long as it’s service and not slavery, Madam President. They have to be free to have real lives.”

“That’s a fair concern,” Marsdin said. “As much as I wish it wasn’t. But I promise you, we’ll make sure it’s not too burdensome.”

“Thank you. I-“

The rest of Kara’s statement was cut off by the containment breach alarm. Kara didn’t wait for J’onn or Marsdin to say anything, she just went.

“Hey,” Kara said as she flew in through the window of her apartment.

“Finally!” Alex said.

“Sorry I’m late. One of the prisoners got loose. Butchest woman I’ve ever seen,” Kara said.

“That’s your excuse?” Alex asked.

“Um, that and I was talking to the President,” Kara said.

Alex sighed and looked over at the Cabinet where her Johnny Walker usually lived. “Why did you get rid of my Scotch?”

Kara laughed. “Because you should not come out to Eliza while you’re drunk,” she said.

“You know, maybe I should wait. I mean-“

“Alex,” Kara said, taking her by the shoulders, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, you know that, right?”

Alex nodded.

“Good,” Kara said. “But think about what kissing Maggie felt like, and tell me, do you have any doubts?”

Alex watched the smile spread across her face, watched as her whole body shifted, like a weight had been taken off her shoulders.

“Okay,” Kara said, “That’s what I’m talking about when I said sometimes it hurt to look at the two of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said.

“No,” Kara said as she pulled Alex into a hug. “Don’t ever be sorry. Just make sure you don’t even let Maggie go.”

There was a knock at the door, and Kara took a deep breath, remembering how poorly this visit went the first time around, and determined to not let this particular piece of history repeat itself. She let go of Alex and walked over, doing a quick x-ray check to make sure no one else could see the door before she opened it.

“Eliza!” Kara sound.

“My girls!” Eliza said. “Oh, my best, favorite wonderful girls!” She pulled Kara into a hug, and Kara hugged her back carefully. “Alex, come here,” Eliza said, pulling Alex into the hug as well, before she let them go and stepped back.

“It’s so good to be here. And you both look so great.” Eliza gave her a once over and Kara had to fight not to roll her eyes a little bit. “You always looked great in blue,” Eliza said before turning to Alex. “And you look a little tired sweetie. Is the lab keeping you busy?”

“No,” Kara said, bouncing on her feet. “She looks tired because she woke me up at three am and spent hours going on about how great her date last night was.”

“Kara!” Alex yelled.

“You had a date?” Eliza asked in an excited tone.

“She totally had a date,” Kara said, smiling at the increasingly red color of Alex’s face.

“You… You, rat!”

“Alex,” Eliza said.

“You’re totally getting rice pudding instead of cake for your next birthday!”

“What? No! That’s evil!” Kara protested.

“Girls!” Eliza yelled.

“Lady Kara,” Konex said, making Alex and Eliza both jump as he decloaked.

“Yes, Konex?” Kara said.

“I think you’ll want to hear this,” the robot said. A moment later, Leslie Willis’s voice sounded through the apartment.

“It is time for my annual list of Things I Am Not Grateful For, and this year’s list only has one item. Supergirl. The blue and red abscessed tooth in the otherwise gleaming smile that is National City.

“How much do I despise, I mean loathe, her whole, ‘Look at me, I’m adorkable’ thing. It’s such an act, and anybody can see through it, because the moment it’s convenient for her, she switched to that whole ‘I’m alien Jesus, come to cure cancer and save kittens!’ thing. And all that religious crap. ‘Rao light your way’. Please, like she’s going to church on Sunday. She’s nothing but a media whore, just desperate for attention.

“And that hideous, like, rejected from the Olympics figure skating outfit she wears.

“I mean, a skirt and tights? Puh-lease. Seems like overkill, especially since no one is trying to get in there. And who would that be? You know, who’s Hombre enough to puncture the Chastity Belt of Steel? Or is it a softer touch that’s required? I mean, she does give of kind of a Sapphic Vibe, with that big ol’ butch ‘S’ on her chest plate. I mean, how would that even work with an alien? I mean, is everything the same down there, or are we talking tentacles? Maybe it’s time for a break, or a makeover.”

Kara signed and reached up, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How long ago, Konex?”

“I was playing it on a thirty second delay from live, Lady Kara,” Konex said.

Kara looked up at Eliza. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go to work.”

“What?” Alex said, a look of pure panic on her face.

“I shouldn’t be long,” Kara said walking over to the window and lifting off.

A small, tiny part of Kara had hoped Leslie wouldn’t mouth off about her this time around, because she’d been much less of a hot mess as a hero her first few weeks, because of the charity efforts, and the public support of the Alien Amnesty Act. Except it has only seemed to make the attack worse by giving Leslie more ammunition. On the other hand, she’d already decided how she was going to deal with this, if the time came, so Supergirl landed on the same Balcony on the forty-second floor she used when she was making a public showing of visiting the social media team and walked through the office wearing what she thought of as her ‘Pissed off Aunt Astra’ face as she walked over towards the elevator.

She had a brief moment to notice Winn’s eyes get big, but she ignored him as she walked towards the elevators. She did see him reach for his phone as the doors started to close, but she just ignored it. She had bigger fish to fry. Or keep from getting fried by a freak lightning accident, as the case may be. She just punched the button for the thirty-second floor. The whole way down, she worked on making sure she had her game face on.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. For the first few steps, no one noticed Kara, but then someone did, and the “oh shit!” almost made her break character and smile, but she just took another step forward, remembering her purpose.

She could hear Leslie, even though the ostensibly sound-proofed booth. The woman had moved on to making jokes about the fact that Johnny Depp had apparently put on some weight. She kept up the string of fat jokes, uninterrupted, right up until the moment Kara opened the door, and walked into her studio.

“I mean, it’s no wonder there are rumors-“ Whatever Leslie was going to was lost as she looked up to see Kara standing in the door. There was a long moment of silence, before Leslie started to speak again. “Now this is interesting,” She said. “You guys are never going to believe this, but the so called ‘Girl of Steel’ herself just walked into my studio, and oh, gosh, by the look on her face, I think I might have made her mad.”

Kara shook her head as she walked over and picked up a headset, dropping into the chair across from Leslie.

“You really aren’t afraid of anything, are you,” she asked.

“I’m afraid the bar on the corner will stop carrying my favorite beer,” she said. “I’m afraid of getting a traumatic brain injury so bad I develop your sense of fashion. Though I will say, as hideous as that outfit is, it’s not as bad as the ‘underwear on the outside’ thing your cousin used to do.” Leslie leaned forward. “So, why you here, Supergirl? Come to ask for an apology?”

“Yes,” Kara said, “I have.”

“Oh? Did I hurt your widdle feelings?”

Kara caught a bit of movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to see Cat standing outside the studio, a look of pure terror on her face. She ignored her and turned back to Leslie.

“No, Miss Willis. I’m here to tell you to apologize to all the people you did hurt this morning.”

“Who would-“

Kara slapped her hand down on the table so hard it sounded like a gunshot went off in the studio, and both Leslie and Cat flinched.

“I am talking now, Miss Willis.”

“I have stood toe-to-toe with one of the most feared assassins in the galaxy, faced down a General who once commanded armies capable of conquering entire worlds, negotiated with Presidents and Captains of Industry. I’ve walked the halls of governments that existed when the height of human technology was mud huts and chipped stone knives. I’ve stood on more worlds than I can count. I’ve passed through the Tannhäuser Gate, drifted in the Phantom Zone, and been to the Vanishing Point, Miss Willis. You want to insult me? Go ahead. I’m a big girl. I can take it.

“But this morning, you implied that my being gay was something to be ashamed of and that hurt people. It hurt little girls who are just starting to figure out that maybe they’re never going to like boys the way their friends do. It hurt little boys whose hearts start to race when they see that one special boy at school. It hurt young women in college who’ve just started dating their roommate, or men who are picking out their wedding cake.”

“You mocked my faith, like it’s a joke, and that hurt all the people out there who do go to church on Sunday, or Synagogue on Friday evening, or to the Mosque, or a temple, or a shrine. I don’t go to church, Miss Willis, because all the Temples of Rao are ash, scattered across a star system two thousand light years away, but how many people are going to hear what you said and feel embarrassed or ashamed of the fact that they find comfort in the Bible, the Torah, the Quran, the Vedas, the teaching of Buddha, or the Tao De Ching.”

“You make your living on insults, cynicism and casual cruelty. So go ahead. Insult me. Mock me. You aren’t the first, and you certainly won’t be the last. But don’t you ever turn me into an instrument to bludgeon people with your bigotry, just to score cheap laughs.” Kara turned and looked at Cat through the window. “I think we’re done here,” she said. Then she took off the headset, stood up, and walked out of the studio.

Cat took a step towards her, but Kara held up her hand.

“I expected better,” Kara said. Then she turned and walked towards a door that led to a public balcony. She leapt into the sky, without saying another word.

From TMZ.com

National City’s Superhero Is Supergay!

11/23/2015 9:23 AM PST

Supergirl, the National City Superhero who’s been making so many headlines the past few weeks outed herself this morning on National Radio. In a tense on air confrontation with CatCo Shock-Jock Leslie Willis, the Superhero confirmed the radio host’s speculation that she’s gay.

The confrontation began when Willis’s ‘Things I’m Not Grateful For’ segment, a Thanksgiving staple for the show, focused entirely on Supergirl. The noted Shock-Jock, and long-time host on the CatCo family of Radio Stations insulted everything from the Girl of Steel’s public demeanor to her costume, but what prompted the Girl of Steel to walk into Willis’s studio to confront the radio personality were insinuations made about Supergirl’s sexuality.

The Maid of Might showed a bit of temper when Willis tried to interrupt her, shutting up the radio personality before going on to lecture her about how her remarks were hurtful to the gay community, and demanding an apology.

After the shocking incident, two questions remain. One, is National City, or the nation at large ready for a gay superhero, and two, does this spell the end of the cozy media deal between Supergirl and Cat Grant?

Only time will tell.

Kara did a few laps around the city, burning off some of the excess energy she felt before heading back to the apartment. Venting a bit at Leslie hadn’t taken nearly as much out of her as the three words she’d thrown in Cat’s face. The declaration had surprised her. It had slipped out, a bit of resentment she didn’t even realize was there and even though her first impulse was to find Cat and apologize, it would be doing both of them a disservice because the anger was justified. She did expect this Cat to be better than her Cat, because she’d worked so hard to make it so, and she was angry that it had taken this for Cat to realize how toxic something like Leslie’s show was.

At the same time, she felt guilty because she wasn’t the same beacon of innocence and hope that she’d been in the original timeline. She was doing everything she could to inspire people, to show them how to be better, but there was a lot of play acting involved. A lot of cynical manipulation of the media and politics. There were back room deals and underhanded moves, and a whole lot of ‘The Ends Justify the Means,’ and the one person she would normally go do with this sort of dilemma, her moral compass, was Cat Grant. One of the people she couldn’t go to.

So, instead, she headed back to the apartment, to Eliza and Alex, hoping that a day with her family would sooth away the tension and stress the confrontation with Cat hand brought on.

Alex was up off the couch before Kara’s feet hit the ground, and Eliza was barely a step behind her.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Kara pulled her into a hug. “I’m fine,” she said. “But Maggie might not ever speak to me again.”

“What?” Alex asked as she stepped back.

“She loves Leslie’s show and I think I might have just gotten her fired.”

“I don’t know about that,” Alex said. “Leslie just handed CatCo a huge scoop. Supergirl comes out on air. That’s gotta be a ratings boost, right?”

“What?” Kara asked.

“Sweetie, you did realize what you said, right?” Eliza asked.

Kara thought about it for a moment, then groaned. “/.,rao, i dovrrosh/ Konex?”

“Yes, Lady Kara?”

“What do the Social Media Feeds look like?”

“I believe the best description would be ‘like a bomb went off’,” Konex said.

Kara reached into the pocket in her boot and pulled out her phone. Sure enough, there were at least a dozen texts from Winn, one from Cat, and 23 missed calls.

“Who has it?” she asked the robot, only for the robot to rattle off a list of every major celebrity gossip sight on the planet, including CatCo and the Daily Planet’s people section.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Alex and Eliza. “I made a mess. I’m gonna have to go fix it.”

Alex, for a moment, looked ready to rebel, but then she took a deep breath, and nodded. “Go,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Kara asked.

Alex nodded. “Go be Kara Danvers for a bit.”

“I love you,” Kara said, hugging Alex. She turned and hugged Eliza. “You too.”

“Take care, sweetheart.”

Kara did a fast change into her work clothes, then headed for the door.

Alex took a deep breath as she watched the door close behind Kara, then turned around to face Eliza.

“Go ahead and say it,” she said. “I can hear you thinking it.”

“How could you let all this happen?” Eliza said. “How could you let her put on that cape? Let her put herself out there?”

“You mean let her save lives? Let her help push through the Alien Amnesty Act? Let her help thirty of her people, including her Aunt, one of her only two living relatives, get back on the right side of the law? How could I do that?”

“Alex-“

“No, Mom. Kara has done amazing things the last few weeks. Things I didn’t even know she was capable of.”

“I know, and I’m proud of her, but she’s put herself in danger.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Alex asked, feeling a knot in her gut. “Every time she puts on that suit, every time she goes out there, I am afraid for her. I’m afraid somebody who can hurt her is going to come after her. And I have to watch it, every day. But, Mom, she went out there, she put herself out there, to save me. If it hadn’t been for her, I would have died.”

“Alex-“

“There was a bomb. On the plane, there was a bomb. The engine didn’t just fail. And if Kara hadn’t shown up when she did, everyone on that plane would have died.”

“Sweetie, I never would have wanted her to let that happen, but after-“

“She’d been planning this,” Alex said. “For a long time, she’d been planning this. And she wants this. It makes her happy. It makes her feel like she’s living up to who she was supposed to be. You haven’t been here. You haven’t seen what she’s like when she wears that suit. Haven’t watched her talk with her Aunt or seen her argue with the President of the United States like it was nothing.”

“I love you, mom. I do, but you’re wrong. This is who Kara was meant to be. What Kara was meant to be. And the world needs her, which is great, but I don’t even care about that. All I care about, is that Kara needs to be Supergirl. She needs to help people. Humans, aliens. She needs to help all of them. It’s the only way she’s ever going to feel whole.”

“You don’t understand how much danger she’s in,” Eliza said.

Alex opened her mouth to answer but stopped and held up her hand. “No. We’re not going to have the rest of this conversation right now. When Kara gets back, we’ll finish talking, because there are things you need to know.”

“What do you think Kara can tell me that will make me feel any different?” Eliza asked.

“A lot,” Alex said.

The elevator opened on the forty-second floor of CatCo and Kara walked out into a storm of activity. Padme looked up at the sound of the doors, and Kara could hear her sigh of relief across the room

“Oh, thank God,” she said. “How do you want to handle this?”

“Have Konex run the responses and pull anything I need to see, then send it to my wall. Keep an eye on the comments, and make sure the auto-moderation is keeping everything clean. I need to go through my texts and voice mail, then I’ll start composing an official statement.”

“Right,” Padme said. “Um… Miss Grant asked us to let her know if we could reach you.”

“I’ll call her once I’ve finished checking my messages,” she said.

“Right.”

“Winn?” Kara called.

“Yes?” Winn said.

“Comfort food?”

“Pizza and potstickers already ordered. There are four pints of Ben and Jerry’s chocolate chip cookie dough in the freezer with your name on it.”

“You’re the best,” she said. A quick burst of super-speed and she was at her desk, Ben & Jerry’s in hand, and going through her messages. The texts from Winn were all of the ‘Cat Grant is on the war path, please come save us’ variety. She deleted them. The voice mails were all people trying to reach Supergirl for an official comment. She deleted them. Then she looked at the message from Cat.

‘Please let Supergirl know I’m sorry about what happened this morning and tell her she was right. She has every reason to expect me to do better than this. Also, let her know I’d like to speak with her in person when she feels like she can, but I will understand if she needs some time.’

Kara typed out a quick response. ‘I spoke with her. She said to let you know that she’s sorry for her behavior. She was angry at what Leslie had done. She’ll be by to see you as soon as she can get free.’ She hit send, then picked up the remote and turned around, turning on her media wall.

There were a string of supportive statements from GLAAD, The Human Rights Campaign, NOH8, The Trevor Project, and a long list of others. Out and The Advocate seemed to be competing for the ‘playing it cool’ award, while Curve looked to be having a complete meltdown. The number of marriage proposals in the comments sections on Curve, AfterEllen and Autostraddle were both flattering and slightly disturbing.

A number of religious organizations had also responded. Some thanking her for calling out Leslie’s behavior. Some condemning her for “condoning sexual deviance.” Some doing both in the same breath.

The political sites weren’t a lot better about making up their minds.

Reddit and 4chan were the same old cess pools. The Supergirl and Superman forums on both had degenerated into flame wars between people who supported her, and people who hated her. There were demands on both for Superman to condemn her behavior, along with other, less savory things.

Leslie Willis’ fans all wanted to crucify her or toss her back into space.

In short, the internet was the internet, and parts of it made her question her faith in humanity. By the time she was done, someone had deposited two large Hawaiian Pizzas and four family sized orders of pot stickers on her desk. She reached for her keyboard, determined to get this out of the way so she could get back to Alex and Eliza.

From Facebook

Supergirl Zor-El

Monday, November 23rd, 2015

I will admit, I’m not entirely sure where to begin. If you’re reading this, you are probably already aware of what occurred this morning on the Leslie Willis show. I suppose the first thing I should do is apologize for making a fool of myself. Those who know me well will tell you that I am slow to anger, which is a good thing when you can do the sorts of things that Kryptonians are capable of. They will also tell you that, on the rare occasions I do lose my temper, I can make rash decisions. Entering Miss Willis’s studio without invitation this morning was one of those decisions and I feel I should apologize to Cat Grant for abusing the trust she placed in me when she granted me access to the CatCo building.

The people who took me in, who taught me human manners and customs, would also say I owe Miss Willis an apology for interrupting her show. I suspect I might get an earful when I see them next, because I will not apologize to her. What Leslie Willis did today was wrong, on multiple levels.

There will be those who read what I am about to say and decry me as a “Social Justice Warrior” or other such titles which are meant to shut up or dismiss those who call out the poor behavior of the privileged members of society. This is not addressed to them. They have made up their minds, and no amount of arguing will change it, or make them understand what it’s like to be a member of a marginalized community.

I am a refugee. I am an alien. I am a lesbian.

I am one of the lucky ones. I can walk among you, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed American Ideal. Camouflaged by my species’ similarity to your own and by an accident of genetics. I can speak your language, whatever that may be, due to the technological gifts of my people which allowed the computer on my ship to load them directly into my brain on my long journey from the ashes of my home to the safety of yours. I can stand alone, and hide my sexuality with simple silence, because you will see my feminine appearance, and assume my heterosexuality unless I correct you.

I am one of the lucky ones, because I can hide all the things about myself that would make people hate me without even knowing me.

I am one of the lucky ones, because I can pass, if I choose too.

There are others who aren’t so lucky. Aliens with horns, silver gray skin, gills, three fingered hands. Butch lesbians. Femme gay men. Transgender people who are still mid-transition, or who simply don’t pass and never will. Those who can’t hide what they are.

I don’t want to condemn those who choose to pass. I know the safety to be found in the closet. I stayed there for twelve years after I arrived here, because I stepped out once and someone I loved died because of it. Died protecting me, because there are those out there who hated me for an accident of birth. I have a friend who was outed as a lesbian to her parents at fifteen. They tossed her aside like garbage and haven’t spoken a word to her in over a decade and a half.

There is safety in hiding. Safety in anonymity.

But I am not hiding anymore. I chose to put on my family’s coat of arms. To stand up, because it is the responsibility of the strong to protect the weak.

Among those of Jewish faith, there is a concept, referred to as “Tikkun Olam”. The phrase translates into English roughly as Repairing the World. It is the idea that each person has a responsibility to leave the world a better place than they found it. On Krypton, we call this idea “/.kaopahdh rraop w tiv aorghahs ni waila/” The closest translation in English is “You must make the universe whole.” It is commonly referred to as “The First Law of Rao” and is one of the core tenets taught by the Church of Rao. It exists at the heart of who Kryptonians are as a people.

This is why I chose to become Supergirl. This is why I acted as I did this morning. This is why I will not apologize to Leslie Willis.

Her words, chosen to demean me, to humiliate me, to reduce me, did none of those things. I long to be of worth, to prove my value, but Leslie Willis has never sacrificed for me, never suffered deprivation so that I would not. Leslie Willis may judge me all she wants, but she has not earned the right to have me care what her opinion is.

But there are those out there who were damaged by her words. Children and adults who would hear them, and feel shame for who they are, for who they love, for the god they worship, or that they worship at all. Children and adults who will be exposed to others who will take her words to heart, and believe that being gay, or having faith is something to mock a person for or hate a person for.

Words have power. They divide us, separate us, break the bonds of love, fellowship and family. Words turn blood against blood, friend against friend, nation against nation, and species against species.

I could not and would not let her use me to be the instrument to drive those words into the hearts and minds of the people listening.

I have a responsibility, to myself, to my family, to the people of Earth, and to Father Rao to leave this world a better place than I found it, which is why I walked into that studio today and why I will never apologize for interrupting Leslie Willis. Because she needed to be interrupted. Because this city, this nation, and everyone within the sound of her voice needed to hear someone stand up and say, “this is wrong.”

Some will ask if I meant to come out today. If I meant to reveal my sexuality, or if I let it slip in the heat of the moment. To my everlasting shame, the answer is the latter.

The reason I did not intend to reveal my sexuality is not because I am ashamed of it, but because it invites questions I did not want to answer. When I sat down with Cat Grant a few weeks ago, one of the questions she asked was if I had anyone in my life. I agreed to answer her only if she would not publish my response. Several years ago, I began a relationship with a woman who became as dear to me as any family I’ve ever had. Like so many people I’ve cared about, her life was cut short. I lost her in September of last year. I did not want to talk about it, because it was personal. Because it seemed disrespectful to the memory of what we shared during those years for her to be rolled into the bottomless font of tragedy that is the loss of my birth world.

But one thing I know about my beautiful, wonderful Captain is that if she were here today, she would have walked into that studio, punched Leslie Willis in the face, and spent the rest of the show telling everyone who listened to be proud of who they are. To love the people they want to love. And that all the hot girls should call in and give her their phone numbers.

Because it would make me laugh and love her all the more.

She would also kick my ass so hard for keeping silent that I wouldn’t be able to sit for a week.

So, yes.

I am a refugee.

I am an alien.

And I am a lesbian.

To everyone who needs to hear it, you are not alone.

May Rao Light Your Way.

Kara landed on Cat’s balcony after using a bit of X-ray vision to confirm Cat was actually in her office. She was still a little nervous about this. Not quite sure how she wanted the conversation to go. But she’d spent almost two hours working on the facebook post, typing at normal speed, considering her thoughts, crying a bit over Sara near the end. She’d cross posted to Google+, Tumblr and to Instagram with a picture of a White Canary, though no one would ever get the reference, and tweeted a link to the Facebook post. Konex would handle the comment moderation, which was for the best, because the mood she was in she might kill anyone who said anything bad about Sara. Then she’d sat and fidgeted for half an hour, before finally getting up the nerve to talk to Cat.

She gently tapped on the door, almost hoping Cat wouldn’t hear her, but Cat turned immediately, and was on her feet before Kara could lose her nerve.

Kara backed away from the door and took a seat on one of the couches. Cat followed her, dropping down on the other couch.

“I’m sorry,” Kara said.

“No,” Cat said. “You were right. I should have done better. By you and by Leslie. I should have pushed her, held her to a higher standard. Instead, the more awful she was, the more I rewarded her. I turned her into a monster, because the monster got better ratings. Made more money. I forgot who I wanted to be. I forgot what I wanted CatCo to be. You reminded me of that today, and I should thank you.”

Kara smiled, feeling light for the first time since Konex started playing Leslie’s broadcast. “Thank you, Cat.”

“I read what you wrote,” she said. “Your Captain… She was a lucky woman.”

Kara shook her head. “She wouldn’t say so.” She closed her eyes, picturing Sara in her suit, all white leather, snap batons ready for battle. “She was like me. Someone who’d lost everything. Her home, her family, her whole world.” She opened her eyes, looking at Cat and trying to hold back the tears. “We’d known each other on and off for years. I was sitting in a bar, doing tequila shots, drinking guy after guy under the table. Miserable, lonely, wanting nothing more than to curl up and wallow in my grief. And Sara walked right up to me, took the shot out of my hand, and threw it back like it was water. Then she looked at the glass and said, ‘Looks like you need a drink.’ I laughed. It was so ridiculous, and I just laughed, and she looked at me, and said, ‘There’s the girl I know.’ I don’t even know why I kissed her. I just… needed to feel something, and when I kissed her, I didn’t feel alone anymore.

“It was a rough time, but when we were together, I didn’t hurt as much. She would let me grieve when I needed too, but she would never let me wallow.”

“She sounds like she was special,” Cat said.

“Losing her… It was hard.”

“What happened to her?” Cat asked.

“She was a soldier,” Kara said. “She went on a mission. I knew… We both knew before she left, she wasn’t coming back. And I couldn’t tell anyone about it. Not for the longest time, until I’d just held it inside so long, talking about it seemed wrong.”

She took a deep breath to steady herself, then stood up. “I should go,” she said.

Cat caught her wrist before she could lift off. “I bought out Leslie’s contract,” she said. “I can’t stop anyone else from hiring her, but I promise you, there won’t ever be anything like her show on CatCo’s radio stations again.”

Kara smiled down at Cat, and turned her wrist in Cat’s grip, forcing her hand open. Kara caught it in her own, and bent down as she lifted up Cat’s hand, brushing her lips over the knuckles.

“Thank you,” she said, “for doing better.”

She let go of Cat’s hand and took to the sky.

Notes: Translated from the Kryptonian:

.ukiemodh w rraop , eh ,astruh, I love you, Astra

.ukiem w rrip , eh shed kir I love you, Little One

.,rao, i dovrrosh Literal: “Rao's Shadow” Semantic: “Oh, hell”

.kaopahdh rraop w tiv aorghahs ni waila You must make the universe whole.

[otakusapien]

@tedkordisanasshole has a thing for archeologists and a thing for Justin Lazarus, so I present to you: Archeologist Justin Lazarus AU.

Except he’s not an actual archeologist. He’s like a Buzzfeed/History Channel version who goes around telling people about Atlantis and treasure hunting and promoting conspiracy theories.

 He knows it’s all bunk and BSes everything.

Justin does not have a real archeology degree, but he is self taught and knows what he’s talking about, when he’s not making it up on the spot.

He’s pretty exploitative and has guests on the show he gets to talk about local legends and alien abductions and is really manipulative with their emotions for the camera. 

Justin goes too far with the wrong people at one point (either by ticking off some investors or humiliating someone on camera, likely with some manipulative editing) and they hire a law firm and a private investigator

Enter Nathaniel. He and Mark get hired by this ticked off party to see if there’s any grounds for fraud or anything else illegal they can catch Justin on to shut him down.

Nathaniel watches some episodes when he gets the case and dislikes Justin almost immediately. He’s far too smarmy and seems super fake right off the bat. (”Here’s proof aliens built Stonehenge!” give him a break)

Nat detests this kind of reality show as it is, but offering a woman who thought her children were abducted by aliens hope and trying to back it up with ‘evidence?’ That’s just cruel.

(He looked into it to see if his guests were fakes, but this one was very real. There are articles about her claims dating back years before Justin was on the scene)

Meanwhile Nathaniel has been living a pretty quiet, normal life. Because it’s not 1870 anymore, he and Tony were legally married and he is a widower. He was able to mourn openly and take a few days leave (though not much, his bosses sent him right back to work), and therapy exists now, so his healing process has been better, but he’s still grieving.

Justin and Nathaniel’s first impressions of each other are much the same, but Mark and several cameras are there now so they have fewer private moments.

Justin thinks having them around for an episode shoot is a great idea, as long as they agree to be on camera and participate some so he can ‘address all the non-believers’ and he’ll get something out of it, too

Mark isn’t giving Justin anything, but he sees weak spots in Nathaniel he can provoke for good reactions. Also he’s cuter which means more fun to work on. 

He picks a fight at one point and gets Nat to yell at him, which is GREAT for TV and Justin is love pissing off a skeptic, but Nat goes and ruins it by apologizing and being very sincere.

Justin finds out about Tony at some point and this is a golden opportunity. His brain is already formulating a story about Nathaniel the lawyer, stiff and angry, only to reveal he has a soft center and a tragic past that made him the cold skeptic that he is

Except Nathaniel doesn’t want to be in any more of the show than he has to and would never let himself talk about it after he lost control the first time

So Justin does a thing. He gets a hidden camera on his person and goes to talk to Nathaniel “alone” one night. He gets Nathaniel to talk about Tony, what happened, his feelings...and they may end up talking about Justin, as well.

Justin grew up on the streets, and even though he was interested in archeology he could never afford proper schooling even if he wanted a degree. He taught himself and said screw you to all the snobs who said that wasn’t good enough, no matter how much he proved himself. 

He needed to eat, so he started doing trashier, more out there stuff (though Justin watches his language, he knows there’s a camera)

Eventually his show started picking up and it was not only paying the bills but making him semi-famous. He kept doing more of the show, building it up, because he was good at it and it kept his foster kids fed

but at some point he realizes he’s not sure if he still likes it. or himself.

Nathaniel is very impressed at Justin’s self-education and raising his foster kids alone on top of all the work he does, and as scummy as it is, he IS good at his work

Nathaniel is also very kind and sympathetic and Justin is kinda mad that Nathaniel’s such a good person and being so nice to him

“How dare you be somewhat wonderful”

He gets the tear filled confession from Nathaniel he wanted, and it’s the perfect thing to round out his otherwise boring and fruitless treasure hunt episode.

In the end, he can’t bring himself to add it and dramatically deletes the footage while looking at it sadly.

On Mark’s end, Justin doesn’t leave much of a trail to follow in his line of work, and his finances all check out, but he is interested in checking in on guests after Nat complained about him exploiting people. Someone lying to get on a reality show is nothnig new and not Justin’s fault, but if they can prove Justin fabricated an expert or lied to someone, they could get him on fraud or at least damage his reputation. (I know nothing about non-homicide related legal stuff, don’t @ me.)

He decides to look into that alien abduction woman Nathaniel mentioned, because if she’s legit but Lazarus screwed her over, that’s their best leverage

But it kinda turns out...Justin might have been the best thing to happen to her

Mark watches every single episode and compares info on this woman and realizes some of the background bits and pieces are connected. Every once in a while after that episode, he’ll be at a location or talking to a person that doesn’t say anything weirder than usual on the show, then when you look them up have an interesting connection

Long story short, Justin helped this woman get out of a cult

I know I know, a bit OOC, but let’s say being more financially stable and living in a time where he’s more knowledgeable about how damaging these things are made him feel more guilty about just leaving her

He left that episode feeling like something wasn’t right, so he decided to follow up with some connections while he made his episodes just in case. He wasn’t sure or invested enough to make it his focus, so he’d just film in places he wanted to check out or get people on the show, claiming it was for other reasons.

More than one expert he talked to on the show specilized in deprogramming and getting people out of cults

At some point Justin sent them her way after finding enough evidence these people were dangerous and they got her out

This woman had basically been brainwashed into thinking there was no point in looking for her children because they had been abducted. A lot of cults are super into alien abduction, I honestly would not be surprised

At this point, Mark is too far down the rabbit hole to care about the fraud stuff and gets to work tracking down this woman’s probably murdered children

 and eventually finds her twins, Pen and Greta, alive and well

Nathaniel is really surprised by the whole thing and doesn’t know how to react beyond, “Holy crap I was not expecting this today.”

Mark convinces Justin to get ahold of his old contacts/threatens him not to make this into an episode and the twins get to reunite with their mother BECAUSE I SAY SO AND THEY DESERVE TO SEE HER ONE MORE TIME, DANGIT

Justin laments that this would have made really good TV, but he realizes his minor investigation to help abduction lady aka Emmaline Godfrey was more fulfilling than the last year or two of his show.

 Mark is impressed he managed to get her out and hidden until now, and even though Justin’s probably super guilty of fraud they can’t find solid enough evidence, so their work is done, but maybe Justin can give him a call if he’s interested in a career change

And now that there’s no conflict of interest, Nathaniel thinks maybe Justin can give him a call? If he’s done committing fraud and encouraging flat earthers that is

Justin is looking forward to the prospect of work he likes with someone who is also self taught, and possibly a real date with Nathaniel and not a fake confessional with a camera. He thinks it over and eventually starts planning the farewell episode with his kids.