#letter to willy is real to me

[doraambrose]

I see this alot in fanon and I think jason Todd's parents are completely misunderstood.

Disclaimer: I am not a victim of parents with drug abuse nor have a I ever done drugs. I sympathize and emphasize with people who struggle with drug abuse as there are many reasons to get into it and it's very hard on your body to get clean, I will link help organizations below. This does mean that I can be a little ignorant to the struggles so if I say anything offensive or wrong, please call me out and educate me so I don't make the same mistake

Jason's family has been retconned so many times, it's hard to keep it straight. But this is my headcannon based on what I've seen:

1. I feel like a lot of people write Willis Todd to be this awful abusive scumbag who hated his kid and his wife. If you are talking about young justice or arkhamverse, this canonically true, but I think that's far from the truth in the main universe, prime or whatever it's called. In batman 411, jason is clearly distraught by Willis' death and does try to avenge him by lashing out at Two face. We also can't forget about the incident with the penguin that led to the worst Bruce and jason characterization before gotham war. And that's because of one rhato issue where jason finally reads willis' letters (a truly heartbreaking issue: rhato rebirth 23)

I believe that Willis wasn't a bad dad. Not a good dad, but not an awful abusive one. I 100% believe he has never abused his family in this universe. And you know what, he wasn't a great person. He was a drug dealer and then a henchmen. But he CARED. He cared about his family. He tried so hard to provide for Catherine and Jason for their medical bills, food, shelter. He just had a poor upbringing and some real shit luck, trying to survive in poverty in Gotham city.

2. Catherine has been written in fanon to be a perfect caring mother who was nothing but a victim. I believe that she wasn't as good of a mother and a person as people make her out to be. And we haven't seen everything, but I believe this because she seems selfish. She seems to put herself and her drug addiction before her family, doesn't seem to even try to get clean or take care of jason or provide. Look at these panels:

She neglected Jason. He had to go out and put his life on the line day after day when it should've been the other way around. Jason was a kid. And don't get me wrong, she probably loved jason and had good intentions, no, she definitely loved him, or else jason wouldn't canonically think as highly of her and take care of her the way he did, but she wasn't perfect and I don't think she was as good of a mother as she's made out to be.

3. Canonically, jason seems to really care for Catherine, but not Willis. I have a theory about that. For why he thinks so highly of catherine: I've never had a parent who suffered from drug abuse, but I do have a parent who suffered from a lot of mental health issues like depression, diagnosed, and I feel like bpd, though it was never diagnosed. When things were bad, they were BAD. I witnessed a lot. But when things were good, things were REALLY GOOD. I feel like when Catherine would come off the drug haze, things were like that. She probably took care of him during those times and was loving and all that. Catherine is the one parent figure Jason has to hold onto (because of all the shit with Bruce, Sheila, etc.). He forcibly removes the bad shit she's done and hangs onto the good things she's done because she really did care about him and in life, it seems harder to hate your mom than your dad (from what i have heard when i did research on this from friends). I've done that for years, and idk if I'm explaining it right, but I think that's the best way I can. For why he doesn't love willis: I think up until he read the notes, he didn't have the full picture. From his perspective, willis leaves to do crime and then eventually gets caught and left forever. I think he blamed willis for making jason become "the man of the house" and have all this extra responsibility. Willis also strikes me as the type of parent who has trouble expressing feelings, so jason probably rarely, if ever, heard "I love you" from his dad. Willis also strikes me as the person who would believe that he needs to make his son stronger in order to survive, and there are a lot of parents like that, especially parents from a low income household or a history of poverty.

In conclusion, both parents were FAR from perfect parents, but they're not as evil or as innocent as people write them in fanon. They're just...people. fanon likes to write comic people as black or white, innocent or abusive, but in reality, It's a gray area. Willis had his flaws, I hc him as one of those old fashioned kind of dads who wants his son to be tough and strong and isn't good with sharing his feelings, but does truly care about his family and NEVER was abusive. Catherine was a mother who definitely cared about her family, but wasn't an innocent victim and had her own flaws.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted talk

[schmergo]

My mom gave me this chocolate London kit for Christmas and I finally decided to use it as sort of a tongue-in-cheek Fourth of July activity. I love my mom and I don’t think she meant to psychologically torture me, but this experience lowkey led me down a true long dark night of the soul and then utterly broke me. Follow my slow mental unraveling below.

I should add that I am bad at crafts and once got gorilla glue all over my hands while fixing a child’s display-only gingerbread house and spent Christmas break with a hard translucent shell on both hands gradually flaking off over the course of a week, so a fair amount of this may be user error. But also the box says this is for ages 6+ and I’m over 5 times that, so maybe they could have done a wee bit more handholding.

Anyway, here’s my journey, which should absolutely be read in the tone of Jonathan Harker’s letters in the beginning of Dracula.

The first hint that something was wrong happened when I melted the chocolate according to instructions and the next step said to pour it into the molds. The chocolate was not really the “pouring” kind. It was a chunky sort of paste that I had to spoon in. The molds filled unevenly and clumpily and at this point, I asked my husband if he’d let me try to assemble the rest of this on my own because I think I can tolerate my failure better if nobody else witnesses it.

The instructions also cavalierly said to save a “handful” to use as mortar for the chocolate tower.

How much is a handful? A Schmergo-sized hand or a husband-sized hand or what? I have very small hands for an adult, but this is for ages 6+ after all. I opted for a Schmergo-sized handful. I would live to regret that.

I chilled the pieces in the fridge for 20 minutes as directed, then popped them out of their mold. To my surprise, they actually didn’t look THAT bad.

Looking at the pieces of Big Ben that I had to assemble, I became acutely aware that there weren’t detailed instructions on how to fit them together other than just “put them together” and no actual photographs of a real person doing it. The wall pieces were still unnervingly floppy and I decided to freeze them in hopes of hardening them while I focused on the clock itself.

In addition to Big Ben, the kit came with a chocolate taxi and a chocolate double-decker bus. The taxi popped out slightly distorted but in a way I liked, with playful Toontown vibes. But the double-decker bus was still mushy and fudgelike, warping and rippling alarmingly as I tried to push it out of the mold. I opted to put it in the freezer, too, along with the walls of Big Ben.

The instructions said to use the melted remaining chocolate to stick the pieces together and to apply it by sticking my finger in it and rubbing it on. It did not mention that, even after letting the chocolate cool, the warm melted chocolate would make the details of the pieces of the chocolate you’re sticking together start to melt, too.

I began to wonder if this kit had ever been formally tested by anyone and if the instructions were written by AI, like that Google search result that suggests adding Elmer’s glue to your shredded cheese when making pizza to keep it from sliding off.

Nothing can prepare you for how bad the clock part looked, so I’m just going to let you deal with it cold turkey. Et voila.

As I cemented my terrible melted clock together, it occurred to me that I’d have a lot more fun if I really leaned into the ominous post-apocalyptic energy of the abomination before me.

What if this was the result of some kind of whimsical Doctor Who villain— or maybe The Unknown from that infamously bad immersive Willy Wonka experience— transforming major London landmarks into chocolate… during a heat wave?

How will will the new Prime Minister Keir Starmer deal with this on his first day in office?

I yelled to my husband in the adjacent room, “Maybe I’m just turning into the Joker, but this is starting to feel more funny than depressing!”

“Mr. Starmer, a second chocolate vehicle has hit Big Ben.”

The bus actually came out pretty well!

Trying to fit together the pieces of the walls would have been maddening if I hadn’t already been driven mad by the clock portion. The pieces didn’t actually fit together quite right, they were still slightly floppy, and the instructions said— after I was in blood stepped so far that should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o’er— that I was supposed to use ELASTIC BANDS to hold together the tower walls while the chocolate was cooling.

The kit didn’t come with elastic bands and I don’t have any in my house except for scrunchies with my gross hair stuck to them, and I’d already come this far, so I decided to forge onward. Then a piece snapped off.

Honestly, this rules, no notes:

I did it, but at what cost? I don’t know much about British politics, but this feels like a poignant commentary on the current state of affairs or something. Should I submit this to the Tate Modern?

[shatcey]

Names in IkeVil

Update! Added new boys.

All combinations of first and last names I find extremely good. They sound catching and are easy to remember. It has always been a challenge for me to remember the names of new characters, but here… I had only one problem. I've always confused William with Victor. To me, all names that start with the same letter (in this case, they sound like they start with the same letter) are very similar. And here not only one letter, but also the first syllable sound the same. You know… that was tough. It's only then I start calling them by pet names (Willy and Vic) I finally start hearing them differently.

There is a pseudoscience that claims that all words or names can be described in a few words that convey the emotions you experience when you hear them. It called phonosemantics. I cannot say that this is real science, because there is no (and cannot be) proof… everything is incredibly personal. But it exists, and I find the concept very fascinating.

But first let's talk about how I hear their names. Random order. Don't look for deep meaning.

🐱Liam Evans. It sounds very soft and sweet to me, like marshmallows. It's very streamlined and even shapeless, but it's still extremely pleasant to hear and easy to remember. It's a good name for an actor.

⏳Jude Jazza. Juicy. That's the first thought. It sways pleasantly in the mouth, I wanna repeat it again and again. To me, it sounds like a sour candy with a sweet core that constantly hits the teeth with an unpleasant, but for some reason attractive sound.

❤️William Rex. A very loud and strong name. It sounds like the name of a political leader or something. But in the end it softened slightly, so the impression changed a bit. Now it feels like a warm blanket. I can't see him as food. A shame…

🦊Harrison Gray. Another strong name. But it sounds softer, more stable… there are no sharp corners in it. It is strong, but soft. I don't know why, but it feels like something with carrot in it. Not juice, maybe cake… I'm sorry, Harry… You're not strawberry milk.

🔫Roger Barel. I don't know why this name feels like a balm that smooths all problems. It's warm and cozy. It's like sitting by the fireplace with a cup of cocoa. Funny… I don't like this guy, but his name makes the most calming impression on me.

🪞Alfons Sylvatica. Very unusual. I see it as something with a lot of spices, like an Indian food, but the taste is constantly changing. I love it. I like the softness of his name, how unique and very odd it sounds… This name is not easy to pronounce, but there is something alluring about it. I really like it.

🍎Elbert Greetia. His name gave the impression of something big but soft. It sounds strong at first, but in the end it sounds like something small and even shy one… For some reason, he reminds me of cotton candy.

⛓️Ellis Twilight. Very soft, very smooth, but somehow cold… For some reason, I see a picture of being outside in the middle of the night (perhaps due of the meaning) in a field of flowers or on the riverbank… perhaps both. It's a summer night, soft and calm, with lots of stars in the sky. It's a little cold, but not enough to feel chills. Compare with food… maybe ice cream. It's incredibly delicious, but if you're not careful all the time, you may catch a cold.

☠️Victor. It feels small (funny, considering the character), but soft, with a lot of cream.

And new boys. But before I start... I always read twins' last name differently - Schatz. By the way, it means "treasure" in German. Why am I doing this? A long time ago… then I tried to come up with a pseudonym for myself, the only name came to mind - Schatze - from a very old movie with Marilyn Monroe. If you know, then you know. It's awkward to explain, but let's just say that she was the only one who got what she wanted. And at the time I thought it must be written - Shatcey. Well, I didn't think this name had German roots. And because of that, I subconsciously think of twins as somehow related to me. Very awkward...

⚔️Nika Schvartz. I hear it as something very chewy and juicy… Why does only cucumber on my mind? Okay, he'll be cucumber.

🛡️Ring Schvartz. Melodious, soft, but not too much. It melts pleasantly in the mouth. I don't know why but it sounds like something with chocolate in it. Maybe a chocolate cake.

🪽Darius Vogel. Like Elbert, he starts with a very big one and ends up with a very small one. But it doesn't seems that he wants to look smaller than he really is. He is more firm, like a spring, which at some point shrinks, but returns to its former shape in no time. With food… Lots of water. Not just juicy food, but a real drink. Juice. Orange juice. Don't ask. Just feels right.

And this is how phonosemantic analysis describes these names*:

Liam Evans. Good, safe, beautiful, rounded, smooth, bright, kind, joyful, simple.

Jude Jazza. Manly, brave, rude, big, strong, mighty, loud.

William Rex. Safe, nice, rounded, beautiful, big, majestic.

Harrison Gray. Manly

Roger Barel. Brave, mighty, courageous, strong, rude, big, loud, majestic, bright.

Alfons Sylvatica. Quiet, weak, frail, dim.

Elbert Greetia. Big, simple, good, beautiful.

Ellis Twillight. Nice, beautiful, safe, big, majestic, rounded.

Victor. There are no pronounced characteristics.

Nika Schvartz. Quiet

Ring Schvartz. Rough, Angular.

Darius Vogel. Bright, Loud, Courageous.

* I haven't found an easy way to get these characteristics in English. There are many articles, but I'm too lazy to read to figure out how to do it myself (and I don't really have time for this). I need a form where I can enter a name and click a button to get the result. But I didn't find anything like this in English. So I used transliteration into my native language, entered it into forms, found the result, translated it back into English (yes, I had time for that!!!). And suddenly I discovered that I probably don't pronounce all the names correctly. The biggest issue was with Greetia. I always pronounce it the way I see it [Gritia], but the translator says it should be [Grisha]. And depending on how it's pronounced, I get different results. Not much different, but still… So I choose the words the way I found it more correct.

I was a little offended because of Alfons, but you cannot change the facts, aren't you? And Victor, as always, is mysterious…

I'm very surprised by Nika's "quiet" characterization… Interesting. I totally agree about Ring. He's like an unpolished diamond. And Darius… wow… I'm starting to think about him a little differently. We'll see.

Take a look for yourself. I think there's a lot in common with the characters. So maybe devs are using this "science" when choosing their names. Or it's just a coincidence… Or this thing really works…

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🔝 Start page 🔝

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[littledead-ridinghood]

Jason’s final monologue in Under the Red Hood is so impactful and important because he’s being honest. His speech hinges on the fact that he’s being open and honest with his feelings on how the last few years affected him. I’ve seen many people argue that because Jason is an unreliable narrator at times, that means he is an unreliable narrator all the time, therefore nothing he says can be trusted. Unfortunately, this feeds into the “anything can be canon behavior for Jason because he’s written so inconsistent therefore I don’t care and besides fanon is better anyway so there” argument where actual consistent character traits often get ignored.  

While, yes, Jason can be an unreliable narrator, and while, yes, Jason is written incredibly inconsistently, this doesn’t mean there’s nothing consistent about him. I remember a couple of years back, some people were arguing how absurd it was for Jason’s opening line to be: “Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me” because it would be impossible for anyone, especially “someone like Jason” to not hold a grudge against a person for not making it in time. They couldn’t buy the fact that someone could concede like that. Of course, Jason is lying here, how could he not, in some part, blame Bruce? But this completely side-steps that Jason does that all the time, pre and post-death. Some of his last words were forgiving Shelia for murdering him and apologizing to Bruce for not being good enough. He doesn't blame Catherine for forcing him into the parental role for both him and her and Jason usually places Willis strictly in the “it’s complicated” box. He constantly takes the fall in his tumultuous relationship with Bruce like his apology letter to the man at the end of TFZ. It’s not out of character for Jason not to place the blame on Bruce, but rather forgive him and dictate his ire to where the real blame falls: the Joker. Again, he doesn’t even place the blame fully where it belongs because he doesn’t mention Shelia’s role. (yes, DC wants us to forget about her role in his murder. Especially in UtRH as can be seen in all the bad robin!Jason rhetoric, but that outer world meddling affects the inner story) 

It’s a cop-out to claim that because Jason is unreliable at times and inconsistent at others that means you can subscribe whatever meaning you want to his words and actions. He’s not his own character anymore, he’s an OC to fit you’re narrative which strips him of his story. By saying he’s actually lying(whether over if he forgives Bruce or so he can blame Bruce later on because “he needs something to be angry over”), it strips away the farther-son tragedy of this moment.

Jason is having a contained breakdown. He’s trying to keep it together, and that’s why when his voice breaks on “doing it because–because he took me away from you” and he starts crying, it’s impactful. He’s raw and alive and it’s still not enough to be seen. He has no point to soften the blow with “I forgive you.” He has no reason to lie about that when trying to get his father to see him. If it was just about the joker then Jason could’ve said “I blame you for not saving me and to redeem yourself, you have to kill the Joker.” But Jason Doesn’t ask him to kill the Joker but instead demands to know why he’s free without consequence, why he is still breathing.

If Jason wanted “to push his goalpost farther with Bruce,” he would prey on Bruce’s blaring guilt complex. It’s incredibly telling and significant of Jason's character that he doesn’t do that in this moment. Therefore, we can assume that if Jason had succeed in killing the joker, he still wouldn’t use that to guilt Bruce.

Jason instead talks about how much he loved Bruce–still loves Bruce–and how the man meant the world to him, and how he feels used because he thought he meant the same to Bruce. By saying he’s lying in this moment to trick and ruin Bruce, you are undercutting some of Jason’s most consistent behaviors: his desire to love and be loved, his desire to be a part of a family, his desire to be important to someone, and how he will put up with almost any and all maltreatment to get that connection.

Jason “pushing his goalpost” further highlights how many don’t understand his emotional distress tied to his murder and instead want to place him solely in the “completely delusion” category where his victimhood is undermined. It’s not about getting Bruce to kill, at the end of the day, the ultimatum was to kill Jason, not the Joker, it’s about wanting his father to understand what he needs to feel safe. That is Jason’s request. Not the clown. Him. He’d rather his father kill him with his own hand so he’s not forced to live on the same earth any longer with and share the same air as his murderer. What makes this as an ultimatum is that Jason fully believes that Bruce loves him too much, therefore, the man would never kill him allowing Jason to achieve his peace. Whether you agree with Jason’s methods or not is a different matter, but that is the tension in this contained scene.

Furthermore, a lot of meta lately says that if Bruce had let Jason kill the Joker then he would guilt Bruce by saying “why would you let me do that? You tainted my soul and hands!” which ignores: 

A. Jason’s actual legitimate reason for wanting the Joker dead. The former belief falls back on the “Jason is so delusion and dramatic!” trope, the “he’s not the right kind of victim” trope because he’s angry instead of submissive and “actually has no good reason to be angry, he’s just being difficult for the sake of.” It completely undercuts Jason’s actual trauma with getting no justice. Bruce preaches Judge and Jury, but Jason got neither. So many victims get neither, and Jason’s anger represents that. What gives Bruce the right to say Jason’s not allowed to play his own executioner in relation to his victimhood when he never got the morals and ideals that Bruce himself preaches so thoroughly? 

And B. more obviously, Jason killed in UtRH before their big confrontation? Famously, the duffle bag of right-hand mans’ heads. He killed in front of Bruce already as well? Captain Nazi? Like, also in lost days, which is a prequel to UtRH, he kills? What’s the actual argument here? Loosely, It reminds me how everyone wants to blame the entirety of Jason’s takeover on pit madness. This “you’ve tainted me” argument sounds as if Jason is not aware of his actions and traumas. Not to say he’s completely sane or not delusional at times throughout his publishing history, but to think Jason would be pissed at Bruce for letting him kill the Joker is to dismissively say “no, you don’t know what you need, but I do.” 

No, the Joker being dead won’t fix everything, but with the joker dead, it would literally be removing a real-life constant trigger of Jason’s. Yes, Jason is a synecdoche for victims, but he is also that himself: a single victim. Joker is a stand-in for everyone who’s ever gotten away with a vicious crime free of judicial step-in or failure, but he also is just that: Jason’s murderer. Yes, they both metaphorically represent something bigger in this scene, but on a fundamental level, the Joker is also just the person tormenting Jason and nothing more. By saying Jason doesn’t actually want what he wants stands in for saying victims are too wrapped up in their trauma to understand what’s causing it. It’s mitigating and demeaning how bad it actually was/is. Jason’s murder in comics still holds such power over the mythos today even though “everyone’s died. He’s not special” for a reason and it’s because his life is actively shown to be affected by it.

Jason has been shown to have PTSD-induced panic attacks around the joker (Lost Days), and about the joker (famously the rebirth issue where Jason hallucinates murder victim him), it’s not far off the say that whenever Joker commits a mass atrocity, that it affects Jason in some way. 

And we canonically know that it does! In Lost Days, Jason breaks down in tears in the streets over all the families that have been and will be destroyed by the Joker. So that Survivor's Guilt train of thought is canon for him: “those people are never coming back, I’m here and I’m not supposed to be, but they’ll never return”-esque

No, killing the Joker won’t fix all of Jason’s issues and trauma surrounding his murder, but that’s obvious. Yet, have you ever been in a bad relationship and part of the issue is literally just being around that person? The healing process starts when you step away. You can’t heal in the same environment that’s harming you. This goes hand in hand with how Jason will only begin to heal as a person when away from Bruce because he’s such a dominating, constant trigger in Jason’s life (again, proven in canon when Jason backs away from Gotham and the Bats). No, the joker being dead won’t fix everything, but it will allow the process to begin where Jason isn’t constantly rehashing his trauma every time the Joker escapes. Jason has tried to heal on his own except the clown keeps coming after him. Whether it’s him attempting to burn off his face or in his mind when Bruce physically drags his murder to the forefront of Jason’s thoughts shoving him into a breakdown over how he’s trying so hard to heal. Part of the reason it’s so hard for Jason to move on is because his trigger buttons are constantly being held down for extreme amounts of time. It’s not that he heard or saw something that brought him back to his murder, it’s that Jason is literally being held in a constant state of panic, grief, fear, and unsafety.

By saying Jason is looking for something to be angry over and he’d find that in Bruce if he let him kill the clown, it frames the moment as a winning vs losing moment that Jason will always lose no matter what. This is a faulty understanding of how healing works and is reminiscent of Three Jokers. You can’t win at healing like Geoff Johns tries to say Barabara did and Jason failed at. Healing is something you do with ups and downs. At the end of the day, it’s a son yelling at his father to help him. It’s not about winning or losing, joker tries to make it about that (“everyone still loses”), but that frames the interaction in a much pettier light. This strips the moment of both Jason and Bruce's raw, exposed wire in water, vulnerable emotions. This looking to be angry argument is also reminiscent of the fandom's love for pit madness which strips Jason of his righteousness. Jason has very understandable reasons to be angry. His life was stripped and stolen away from him. It’s like when people say Robin Jason had anger issues which completely ignores what he was angry over! He hated rapists and pedophiles and big, authoritative tough guys who beat on women! He wasn’t angry all the time over everything; he had very real, systematic issues that upset him in overwhelming ways. Boiling him down to “he needs to be angry” wipes Jason of his motivations.

Jason doesn’t plan for a future. Really, he never even thought Bruce would kill for him in the end. When he first came back, sure, he thought Bruce would kill the joker and make Jason “the last person he ever hurt”, but in their final confrontation, Jason just asks “why on God’s earth is he still alive?” and then “I’m going to blow his deranged brains out and if you don’t like that you’ll have to kill me. Shoot me right in the face”: his ultimatum. In the confrontation, Jason doesn’t even believe he has a full claim to be upset over the Joker for just himself. He talks about Barabra being hurt by the clown and is pretty rescind to his murder in the fact that he says he was one of so many corpses filling dozens of graveyards made specifically by the Joker. Again, “last person he’d ever hurt,” Jason is fairly fine with being dead and doesn’t even think he deserves to be back, but because he wasn’t the last person the clown hurt he pushed that as his climax for why he’s angry. 

Really a better commentary focuses around “well, what does Jason think is going to happen after?” because Jason clearly doesn’t want to be alive. He sets up like four ways of suicide in his final scene. One of my mutuals a while ago posted their thoughts on what they wanted the after to be. They said they wanted to see a story where Jason killed Joker in this showdown. They believed he would probably enter this dissociated shock over the joker’s dead body, over the fact that it was just that easy, that it’s over. But, this fact would lead Jason to the realization that he doesn’t need Bruce to “save” him (i.e. protect him/keep him safe). This has literally been rotting in my head for months, you have no idea. And I truly see this as the outcome of the showdown if it had gone that way. Sure, Bruce didn’t stop him, but he also didn’t stand up to protect Jason from his murderer. Jason, just like in every other aspect of his entire life, had to protect himself. Once again, he has performed his own emotional labor, and that would probably break him away from Bruce’s chains. He got what he wanted and he didn’t need anyone else to do it for him. This interaction further shattering the heroic image he upheld Bruce to. I think that’s a much more realistic outcome based in Jason’s characterization rather than him throwing a fit over the fact the Joker’s dead therefore he has nothing else to be angry over when Jason is shown to be angry over a lot of other things as well.

[damianbugs]

i often include some obscure symbolism in my fics without any real desire to point them out but i was rereading an old piece of mine and remembered one i was rather proud of;

it's from YOU MUST KNOW LIFE TO KNOW DECAY. which is a canon-adjacent story about jason's experience with rain throughout his life. it spans over many years, starting from before his parent's death, to the present as red hood.

the rain itself is the massive metaphor and motif, obviously, but within that i snuck in some other key aspects to jason's character. the one i want to talk about it from the second section of the fic (unofficially dubbed "No!" and the period in time where jason was homeless):

in this scene jason's belongings have been dumped out of his bag into the rain over a misunderstanding, amongst these scarce objects are two things — an old book belonging to Willis Todd, and a photograph of Catherine Todd (the one jason has at his place when bruce comes to find him in Batman (1940) #408).

this photo always fascinated me and so i wanted to give it its own backstory. this moment however has two stories happening. a story of sacrifice for Willis, and the story of grief for Catherine.

the book willis used to love and jason remembers him reading often is the last remaining object the boy has to his father (because most of his belongings were left with his neighbour, and jason doesn't get those back until Batman (1940) #426).

unlike a picture or a letter, this book is a vessel between them, nothing about it actually is Willis' other than the memory attached to it. a nod to the fact that even in death, he had nothing other than the memory he left with his family.

catherine however has a picture, something that is entirely hers, but even that is all it is; her face. jason is young when his mother dies, and as he grows up, he'll soon forget the memories he made with her, but he'll never forget her face because of this last photo he has. her existence, prior to the disease and suffering and death, is forever immortalised for jason. she exists only before her death.

neither willis nor catherine are ghosts that follow jason. he mourns them and misses them deeply (and this grief is the entire catalyst for why he runs away in A Death in The Family) — but they don't come to him when he's doused with fear toxin or battling exhaustion. he doesn't see them when he closes his eyes. because they are not concepts he mourns.

they are a book, a photo, people he has lost forever. jason being a young carer, would have had to watch his mother slowly die to her disease, so he knows death in its raw forms. i have spoken before about how jason views love and loss, as being very literal and blunt understandings, and it's the same here.

so, we have a book and a photograph.

the book being destroyed by the rain is another nod to the modern characterisation of Willis Todd (in both canon and fanon). of the explicitly abusive and negligent father. how his character being "ruined" is usually to paint catherine as the weak and pitiful victim of circumstance and nothing more. neither of them have any true personality other than their surface level one's, which are often classist and ignorant.

on the other hand, willis' book being ruined but protecting the photograph of catherine underneath is to represent his story in jason's life. he was an absent idea because he was working to provide for them, jason didn't really know him outside of this story, and willis dies as a mere idea for his family.

it's not enough, however. willis dies, but it's still raining. catherine's photo may have been saved by some of the rain, but jason is still homeless and he will still have to endure it alone.

the second section of this fic is the saddest one to me, because while jason is the only todd present in this scene, there are three stories being told.

[lettingtimepass]

Loki s2e5 Thoughts & Feelings (Spoilers)

THE INTRO LOSING THE LETTERS!! I'm a sucker for when an intro is slightly changed. And in the end credits when the lines and type get all wonky! I love it.

Ok I have a question. When Loki finds everyone, they are all on branched timelines, not the Sacred Timeline. So doesn't that mean the lives on these branches could be slightly different or totally different than their original lives on the Sacred Timeline? Sylvie says they're back in their "real lives", but is that even true? 🤔 Also, I know people are theorizing that Don's wife was dusted during the snap, but technically in this branched timeline, the snap might not have happened.

B-15 being a doctor was so good 🥺 "I looked happy." Yes, you did... I just noticed her name on the captions was "Dr. Willis!"

Don!Mobius said he'd seen Loki in the shop before, did Loki timeslip there and not remember it? Or... has that not happened yet?

OB's workshop looking super similar to the one at the TVA - So cool!

"So I am gonna write a bestseller!" Stop he's so pure!!

Did anyone clock that OB's book cover looks similar to Loki and Slyvie on Lamentis? 👀

"It's impossible. But don't let that stop you."

This is probably obvious but Loki couldn't control the timeslipping until he truly accepted his "why." Not to protect the timelines from HWR, but to protect his friends.

Don!Mobius literally dropping everything to talk to Loki and offer him a drink. Fellas.....

"You saw something in me that I hadn't seen in myself." NO THIS IS STRAIGHT OUTTA FIC THO 😭

I can't believe Loki assembled his own Avengers 😭😭😭

Gawd, the show starting with Loki's speech about how humans don't need choices, and now he's fighting to give his friends choices..... that's the good shit.

"I want my friends back." DO YOU REALIZE THE CHARACTER GROWTH?!?! Loki never had a friend other than Thor. He was so closed off, he didn't think he ever needed anyone else. He told the lie that he was fine, better off, by himself. For him to admit that he has friends, and he wants them, and doesn't want to be alone...? 🤌🤌🤌

"But without them... Where do I belong?" WHERE IS TOM'S EMMY?!?! The tear, the voice shake... this man 😭😭😭

Remember, this Loki is a "cosmetic mistake." He isn't supposed to exist. Mobius saved him from being reset. Without the TVA, without Mobius... he has no reason to exist... no glorious purpose. But he was still willing to let them all go to do the right thing 🥲🥲🥲

Mobius trying to sell a Jet Ski to B-15 is too funny.

THE MONKEY FROM THE INTRO!! I've been wondering what that was all about... we also see OB's sticky note wall!

"The pens... we have all the pens!"

When they all start spagettifying being parallel to the dusting scenes in Infinity War.... RUDE, MARVEL. MR STARK I DON'T FEEL SO GOOD.

"I can rewrite the story." YES YOU CAN KING!! And my immediate reaction was "Loki, God of Stories"! At first I thought Loki and Sylvie were going to run the TVA together, but now I feel like it might be Loki alone (with Mobius' help of course), managing all the timelines... writing the story.

THAT ENDING!!!! I'M SO READY BUT NOT READY FOR NEXT WEEK!!! I can't believe we're at the end.... I'M SO SCARED! 😭

[gryficowa]

Boycott!

Disney supported Israel and boasted about it

Warning, random rant:

Fucking "Vote Blue" liberals when the blues provided weapons to Israel and on August 10th 100 Palestinians were killed because of your fucking weapons, you fucking bitch love Harris because she's a fake bitch like you

You are as fake as radical feminists when real feminists fight for women's rights, fuck you liberal, you are a piece of shit, you don't even respect the victims who died because of her and her party, but clearly your American privileged white ass is more important than these Muslims, right?

I have no respect for you when you tag in about Palestine the day after 100 people were murdered to force people to vote for your Zionist blue bitch

You fucking idiot, you vote for Zionists and create posts forcing people to vote for her a day after 100 people were murdered and it was because of weapons provided the day before by your heavenly ones, you liberals have no reason and no human dignity, you are complicit in these crimes

Don't try with these "Because Trump is worse" or "Russian troll" lines, the truth is that you are using these lines to feel unpunished for your crimes, you fucking piece of shit

Yes, I'm pissed at you

And no, I won't be polite to these bastards, because they themselves have no respect for the victims when they enter tags about Palestine and write their shit about voting for the blue Smurfs

Now that I have your attention:

Knowing life, liberals will still call me "Idiots" and other shit, but they had no respect for the victims if they force people to vote for someone who supplies weapons to the country that did it

[latibvles]

points on a map.

this is... [loud kazoo] rather late but oh well! better late than never. related to this piece, this next one is plucking from the prompt crew and, as you can expect: is an introduction to the rest of Viv and Willie's crew! It was fun to write though, so I hope you enjoy it (will these make it onto ao3? maybe. no it is not proofread, sue me) Meet Inez Eckley, our very lovely navigator. All of these OCs will be on the carrd very soon!

—

It takes ten people to fly a B-17.

Not ten men, or ten boys — ten people. That was it. Really early on there used to be a joke, the setup was always the same: how many girls does it take to fly a plane? To no one’s surprise: Inez never found it funny, no matter how many times the punchline changed. It takes ten of me just like it takes ten of you.

She’d never said that, never had much of the courage to open her mouth about it. Luckily, the other navigators she knew either didn’t have the same sentiments or just kept them to themselves — Inez optimistically hopes for the second.

i.

“So we’re just… puttin’ pins in it?” Inez asks, turning to Croz and Bubbles. Croz nods, gives her a bit of a sheepish smile and Inez tries not to squint at the now blurry map in front of her — her glasses feeling like a cross where they hide under her jacket beneath her shirt.

“Pretty much. It’s a tradition.” He affirms.

“Gotta know where everyone’s from.” Bubbles tacks on immediately after — his smile is a little brighter. It doesn’t surprise her: Inez is fairly certain Bubbles was the one who was gonna run around and shoving red thumb tacks in people’s faces. Inez nods once, slow and pensive, before reaching for one of them.

“Ladies first, then?” She wants it to be a statement — but she can’t help but ask. As if they’d have her set up the map on the wall for a boys only activity.

She catches a glimpse of Harrie Morgan over in the corner, trying to nudge one of the guys out of the way so she could listen to the fight on the radio, and assumes that her worry isn’t a crazy assumption to make.

“So y’don’t forget about us,” Inez tacks it on at the end, a bit sheepish, fixing her gaze now on the plastic between her fingers. When she looks back up — Bubbles is still smiling brightly.

“Sure thing. You can do the honors.” He encourages, and that much makes her smile a little bit as she nods once to herself then takes a couple steps forward. She squints a bit, trying to will the text into becoming more solid, trying to recall the maps she’d pour over during practice missions over the States. Inez hesitates a moment, settles on the spot and hopes that she’s hit her target. Turning her head, Bubbles and Crosby are both looking over at where she’s placed it.

“Nashville, huh? That makes us neighbors,” Bubbles puts his own above hers. “Louisville.”

“Guess you’ll have to visit then. We’ll make a day out of it. Hit all the real touristy spots.” Inez offers. There’s a vision there that has her smiling to herself — one where her mother overfeeds them because they’re “too skinny to be Army,” and Croz, polite as ever, doesn’t know how to say no to her. “You too, Bing. And it’s your turn.” Crosby seems to perk up a little bit, takes his pin and tacks it right onto Iowa. Bubbles chuckles to himself, arms crossing over his chest.

“Yeah, you gotta visit. Th’hell’s back in Iowa.” He teases, and Inez can’t help the quiet laugh that escapes her. By the time they got back from this, Iowa would have Mrs. Jean Crosby again, who’s letter was probably sitting comfortably in Croz’s jacket pocket right about now.

“Don’t get him started, we’ll be here all day.”

ii.

Harriet Morgan, their ball gunner, has successfully stolen the seat closest to the radio. Carrie Hughes, one of their waist gunners, is standing awkwardly to her left when Inez tracks them down. Harrie’s leant forward on her elbows, the guy next to her, Roy Clayton, gives her a questioning look, expression twisted into one of mild annoyance as Amison messes with the knobs of the radio.

“You even got money on this, Morgan?”

“No, but ma’ pa might!” The expression on her face is bright, and she flashes him a sunny-side up grin — all crooked teeth and crinkled eyes. Carrie says nothing, but her cheeks flush in that mildly embarrassed way that they always do when Harrie’s garnering a bit of attention for herself. Sometimes, Inez is marveled by the fact that Carrie continues to follow her around in spite of her own introversion — but the world was full of mysteries and Inez figured this one would just have to go unsolved.

Harrie, as usual, is none the wiser.

Inez clears her throat on her approach, drops a hand on Carrie’s shoulder to squeeze it and give her a half-smile.

“Got a second to spare? Wouldn’t want you losin’ your seat, after all,” Harrie’s grin turns a little mischievous, and she waves her hand flippantly as she jumps up to her feet.

“Roy gon’ watch ma seat for me, ain’t that right?” Roy makes a face, a mix of shock and protest that falters almost immediately upon Harrie holding his stare for another second or two. Harrie claps him on the shoulder. “‘Preciate it, pal,” before clapping her hands together and jumping up to her feet. Inez thinks she hears Carrie mutter a sorry Roy under her breath. Inez can’t help the small laugh that leaves her as she guides the two of them towards the map.

“Shouldn’t take more than a minute.” Inez offers, but Harrie whizzes by her like a dog catching a scent, sidling up immediately at the work-in-progress amalgamation of push-pins.

“Well what’s all this then?” Her question is as bright as the rest of her and Inez only wonders momentarily how it is that she can treat every minor occurrence as though she’d just found a winning lottery ticket. Carrie’s interest, although more subdued, is still piqued — Inez can tell by the way those big brown eyes of hers light up in curiosity. June had made a couple jokes about the girl being the baby deer of the group: the nineteen-year-old was really living up to it now.

“Croz and Bubbles say it’s a tradition. Gotta put a pin where everybody in the group’s from.” Carrie tilts her head, brows furrowed — although Harrie wastes no time in taking one from the table and smacking it onto the map. Somewhere South, but that part was obvious.

“We get to…” Carrie’s voice trails off, but Inez knows how that question was going to finish, so she nods.

“All thirty of us. I went first,” That makes Carrie smile, and Inez pats her back before gently pushing her towards the map, before sidling up on its opposing side to squint at where Harrie found her mark. Montgomery, Alabama. Carrie, however, is more subdued about it — she simply points and voices it, as opposed to doing it herself.

“Denver,” Carrie offers and Bubbles puts the pin in.

“Ever been to the Rockies?” He asks with a bit of a tease. Carrie lets out a small huff.

“Do I look like a mountain climber to you, sir?” And now it’s Inez’s turn to snort at the barely there bite of Carrie’s remark — one that has Harrie laughing loud and unapologetic. Silently, Inez just hopes Carrie keeps sharpening that edge of hers’ until it gleams, if only for her own sake.

iii.

Inez knows that when their radio op smiles at her and promises she just needs to finish up this last game, that it is the beginning of a doom-coming.

Not for Fern, of course. Never for Fern — Inez was fairly sure she could talk Eisenhower himself into giving her a brand new fort for free. The doom-coming being for the wallet of whoever Fern has successfully deceived into thinking she was actually bad at darts: this time, it seems to be Quinn and Blakely — Hinton being her newfound accomplice. Inez doesn’t know how they haven’t been made aware of Fern’s goal to sucker at least half the 100th before they reach England, but that’s none of her business.

“No shame in callin’ it quits now, Carmine. I’ll even halve the winnings for ya,” Bailey drawls, and Fern scoffs lightheartedly. She puts her hands on her hips, cocking a brow and tucking a loose strand of shiny auburn hair behind her ear. There’s a slight pout to her lips. Hook, line…

“Don’t tell me you’re calling me a quitter, Bailey. Matter of fact, I hit this double eight and we double it. Two bucks each.”

Sinker. Quinn looks reluctant, but Bailey agrees — so they all cough up another bill to make it eight on the table. Fern takes her last dart and passes Hinton one of those award-winning smiles of hers, and Inez is reminded briefly of how they had her posing up by the plane for pictures back in Sioux City. And how a passing remark about how she should’ve been painted on the plane, not flying ‘em had earned the offender a fist to the teeth from June.

She lines up the shot, takes in a deep breath and then…

“Boop!” Fern declares as the dart finds its target, to the collective groaning of both Quinn and Bailey. “Thaaank you! And thank you!” She swipes the cash from the table, hands four to Hinton and then pockets the other four, before turning to Inez. “Heard something about a map, is that it?” Fern is looping their arms, her cheek brushing against the side of Inez’s head.

“Four whole dollars. You’re really stretchin’ that Mouse Hole piggy bank,” Inez remarks, and it makes Fern laugh a little with a shake of her head.

“Once we hit England it’ll burst all on its own,” She declares, definitively, then listens intently as Inez explains exactly what it was they were doing. The map’s got a few more pins — from Brady and Blakely and their crews. By the time they hit it, Fern’s already opening her mouth and unlooping their arms, pointing at the spot on the map in one fluid motion. “Racine, Wisconsin, boys, riiiiight there.”

iv.

Josephine Alden was always good at not taking up too much room — with Lorraine next to her, they would have the quietest corner of the bar were it not for Lena Connolly filling it with her own storytelling of tales from home. Jo seems more intent to listen than Lorraine, who’s eyes have fallen decidedly further down the bar, towards some back-and-forth occurring between June and Douglass. For a moment, Inez idles behind Lena, trying to figure out the best way to worm herself in.

Noticing this, Josephine gives her one of those warm and acknowledging smiles of hers.

“Did you need something, Inez?” she asks, shifting the attention towards her. Well, Lena’s attention at least. Lorraine still seems preoccupied.

Inez smiles, rubs the nape of her neck.

“Bubbles, Croz, and I are wranglin’ people to tell us where they’re from. Keep track of location and stuff. There’s a map for people to put pins in their hometown. I just wanted to make sure we all got ours,” she explains, looking over the three of them. Lena nods slowly, and Josephine is already straightening out to get up and head over.

Lorraine’s lips tug into a frown, dark eyes flitting from her back to the scene she was watching unfold in front of her.

“Do I have to?” And, despite knowing her, the question still manages to knock some of the wind out of Inez all the same. It’s not posed with a whine, but that sort of indifference that she takes towards most things that didn’t pique her immediate interest. Inez has shared a bunkhouse with the woman for the better part of a full year, but sometimes she still has to remind herself that it’s rarely ever personal; that it’s just Lorraine. Slow to convince, slow to bite down on anything without an incentive.

Sensing Inez’s own faltering, Lena taps in — a clap on Lorraine’s shoulder and a smile up at her.

“Haven’t seen Pasadena Nena touch down yet,” she casts a look to Josephine sliding off the bar stool, “Or Sparky.” Josephine perks up, an animated full-body thing so unlike her typical reservations that it even catches Inez offguard.

“That’d make us first, wouldn’t it?” Josephine points out. “First of the girls, at least,” She looks to Inez for confirmation, and it dawns on her all at once — so she nods almost too quickly in confirmation.

“Uh huh. Croz and Bubbles even let me put the first pin in it,” Inez admits. Lorraine’s brows raise just enough for her to notice, and there’s a twitch of Lena’s lip in knowing they’ve thoroughly incentivized her into something else.

Lorraine Ivanova didn’t care for much — but she did like to be first to things.

“Alright,” she assents, and Inez smiles a little more genuine, guiding the trio back towards the map. Josephine lets the other two walk in front of her, whipping around to raise her hand in greeting. Inez looks back to see who it is — only to realize all at once that she doesn’t know who it is that Josephine’s waving to. A member of Brady’s crew, maybe. By the time Inez is turning back around, Lorraine is taking one of the push pins to jam into the map wordlessly.

“Brooklyn,” Josephine murmurs quietly to Inez, as Lena mimics it, her own pin nearly on top of Lorraine’s. “And the Bronx.” She knew the two were from New York — but the differences between all those little neighborhoods made her head spin on a better day. Inez gives Josephine an appreciative smile that the girl returns, patting the spot between Inez’s shoulder blades before stepping towards the map and pointing.

“New Englander, huh?” Bubbles points out as Croz presses the pin into its spot.

“Same as Crank,” She nods, stepping back, before giving Inez a curious look. “Did you get Juney yet?”

v.

She had not, in fact, gotten Juney yet.

And their bombardier looked like she was about to bite Howard Hamilton’s head off — but Hambone just looked amused with his ability to successfully get a rise out of her. To be entirely fair, it wasn’t hard. And it also wasn’t worth the smack in the mouth he’d be getting if he kept poking her as though she were a sleeping bear; Inez walks a little quicker, Josephine keeping step. Douglass, who’d also been participating in the conversation, catches them first with that pearly-white smile of his.

“Ladies,” it’s an easy greeting, and Inez fixes him with a nod.

June Cielinski looks back at them now, blue eyes lit up, argument on her tongue and jaw clenched. She fixes her gaze on Inez and Inez feels her stomach drop almost instinctually. She’s like a horse being wrangled straight into a pen she wants no part of, because whatever conversation that was just transpiring would be far too much for her to keep up with.

“Eckley, would you tell Hamilton that—”

“We need you for somethin’,” Inez blurts abruptly. She then fixes her look back to the two men behind her and lets out a soft puff of breath. “I’m borrowin’ her.” Josephine slides seamlessly into the conversation with a heard you had a rough landing! that’s laced with all the concern of a mother checking on her kids after a long school day. June, however, is muttering what Inez can only assume are obscenities under her breath. Inez doesn’t speak a lick of polish — her cheeks flush anyway.

“What was that all about?” Inez asks after a moment, and June scoffs.

“Dougie wants to make a pass at Fern so I told him to piss off about it. Hamilton thought it was pretty funny,” June seethes, and Inez knows her immediate piece of advice wouldn’t be much help. Don’t feed into it was like asking June to hold her breath for an entire flight exercise.

She also knows it was less about the prospect of Douglass and Fern, of all people, and more about what lies beneath it — the principle of it. They’d all been sat down and had the fraternization policy nailed into their skulls. Inez figures that it’s hard to take a rule seriously when you’ve never seen the consequences of breaking it. So the guys found it funny, even if, like most things, the consequences felt very, very real for the woman. And most girls understood how words could be dangerous in a way that guys didn’t.

June was always going to be the first one to bat for them. That’s just how it was.

“Should only take a minute, then you can go back to uh… fightin’ the good fight, I guess,” June snorts, unapologetic in the way she rolls her eyes, but Inez knows it isn’t malicious. Her lips curl on something between a smirk and a smile and her physical being seems to loosen up a bit more. That makes Inez relax a bit, letting out a soft breath as they reach the map. “They’ve just gotta know where you’re from. Put a pin in it.” June’s lips pull into a small pout, a nod of understanding.

“Hope you boys don’t need me to point you in the direction of Chicago,” She raises a brow at the two other navigators. Bubbles just laughs, but Croz seems to flush a bit — meek in the presence of June’s sharp remarks as he goes to put the pin in its place.

vi.

“You get lost or something, Cleven?”

It’s never been hard to find her pilot, Captain Savorre’s made a spot for herself by the door just as Major Cleven comes in with a gust of wind. Inez watches Cleven take Savorre’s hand and shake it, and they give each other a smile — Cleven’s is barely perceptible, Savorre’s is mostly teeth. Whatever Cleven says in response, Inez doesn’t pick up on, but Savorre turns her head and Inez follows it.

Inez doesn’t get how she didn’t notice that the horn above the mantle was split in two. Savorre says something else Inez can’t hear, and claps him on the shoulder twice before he walks past. The two of them look like something out of the movies they’d play on base, if she was being completely honest with herself. Tall, confident, attractive. Cleven presses forward, nodding towards those who catch his eye, greeting those he knows.

She didn’t know the commander of the 350th well, but the general consensus of her and most of the girls was that he was quite alright. Harrie had gushed about how pretty his girlfriend was when they saw her once at the bar — all Veronica Lake waves and friendly smiles. Inez was too shy to talk to her then. Still, Captain Savorre and Lieutenant Neumann seemed to like him well enough — that was as much of an assurance as any. Sometimes it was hard to discern who their allies were in a group of hundreds of people.

Inez presses forward once she realizes Savorre is no longer preoccupied, clearing her throat as she approaches.

“Captain?” Savorre’s face lights up in another smile.

“Eckley.” Inez looks to the left, to Buck over by the map, then clears her throat.

“Me and uh… the other navigators were just gettin’ everyone to put a pin where they’re from up on the board. I pretty much got everybody but you and Lieutenant Neumann.” Captain Savorre had an air about her that was somehow both comfortable and intimidating. Inez always chalked it up to her having a good four inches of height on her. But the smile she maintains is a comfort as she straightens out a bit.

“Look at you, making friends,” There’s something about the way she says it that reminds Inez vaguely of her older cousins asking about her social life back in high school. It’s almost sisterly. When Savorre starts walking, Inez is quick to follow. “How’re those glasses working out for you?” she inquires. Inez feels her face flush. The cold metal frames hanging on the inside of her shirt feel heavier.

Savorre picked up on Inez’s habitual squinting pretty quickly. She said nothing of it, but Inez did find a pair of readers on the pillow of her rack in Wendover. She’d thanked the woman at least five times; Savorre just laughed it off, telling her her secret’s safe with her.

“Just fine, thanks,” Savorre nods, satisfied. Then, Inez lets her curiosity get the best of her as they pass by Cleven again in conversation with the Sergeant at the bar. “Everything okay? With the Major?”

Savorre’s mouth curls on a grin, directed ahead of her as opposed to in response to Inez’s question. Inez watches as Savorre drapes an arm around Neumann’s shoulders. She’d been in some kind of conversation with Lieutenant Brady. There’s a quick exchange there: an I’ve gotta steal her from Savorre, a small eyeroll from Neumann and then a small, surrendering nod from Brady that ends with Savorre turning on her heel.

It’s then that the Captain seems to remember Inez’s question.

“Our Air Exec just knows how to make an impression, is all,” is Savorre’s breezy reply, arm still draped around Neumann’s shoulders, who’s giving her an equally questioning look, but saying nothing. “Lead the way, Eckley.”

And so she does: back to the table, with its awaiting map with an ever-growing collection of red pins in places all dotting the U.S. Croz introduces himself all over again and handshakes are exchanged, Inez taking a step back to admire their work. There was something about being unable to distinguish any of them from one another that made her happy. Ten men in a bomber, ten women in a bomber, ten people to fly a B-17, ten pins on a map.

Bubbles puts the one for Neumann somewhere in Pennsylvania that Inez has never heard of. Then Savorre takes one for herself, looks over her shoulder and casts a smile pointedly at Inez as it finds its mark. Like she’s letting Inez in on a secret.

“Motor City,” is all she says as she puts it, presumably, on Detroit — it only then occurs to Inez that their pilot didn’t talk much about where she was from.

Before Inez can ask anymore questions, the door opens once more and Savorre heads off, curious as ever, to see who’s walked in. Neumann’s already ducked back to her prior conversation, and Inez falls into a contemplative, but satisfied silence as Bubbles goes to wave down another pilot. Indiscernable points on a big, big map.

[castleclerics]

i think it would be so much more impactful if mike’s letter for will is one he wrote when they were younger.

no matter the contents of the letter, if it was signed “love mike” it would be similar to the veil (the painting) will made for his real feelings. it literally saying “love” but it could be interpreted in a platonic way since mike was little when he wrote it (hence letter to willy possibly) and mike knows that. will could think “that’s sweet well of course he loves me we’re best friends” and that would honestly be enough for him. but little does he know it doesn’t end there and that mike couldn’t sign the same on his letters to his girlfriend years later.

it would actually be such a good way to immediately queue the audience into mike actually always feeling this way about will since we know about the “from mike” situation while will doesn’t. everyone would be screaming at will through their tvs to open his eyes.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #17 – Terra Incognita by Connie Willis

Connie Willis is a name I have heard come up a lot with regard to late 20th century American Science Fiction, but in a slightly odd way. The only thing she’s actually written that I’ve ever heard of is To Say Nothing of the Dog (a delightful-sounding book that tragically has a multimonth hold list at my library). Instead, I mostly know her from other books’ acknowledgement sections, or semi-mythologized folklore and anecdotes about the culture and community of the era. So I really picked this up as a matter of curiosity, to get a sense of what Willis’ whole deal is.

The book is a collection of three novellas, each basically totally unrelated with only the faintest attempt at a unifying theme to justify bundling the three of them together. Each work is pretty different from the others in everything from length (the longest is something like 3x the length of the shortest), tone, setting and subject matter, the works really. The first is a sort of romcom farce about surveyors charting an alien world that has, well, aged. The second and longest a love letter to classic classic hollywood and movie musicals as told from the POV of a self-hating drunk who pays the bills going through and retroactively editing the studio’s back catalogue to meet the whims of the executive of the day. The third and by far shortest is a lighthearted and very fannish comedy about a teenager getting conscripted to be a space cadet against her own ferocious objections.

The stories are all perfectly modern in, like, structure and pacing, but they still absolutely feel like they were written last century. Part of that is just word choice (the only thing that ages worse than old euphemisms for sex is old attempts to create futuristic slang), but it’s also just a general sensibility. Which is most cringe-inducing in the first story, both for its portrayal of the native species of the planet being surveyed (directly compared to native americans a few different times, characterized as relentlessly opportunistic penny-wise but pound-foolish hucksters leaping at the chance to sell their land for cheap imported consumer goods), and also just for a handling of gender and sexuality it’d take more time than I’ve got to really dig into. (I have a sense of where all those tomboy versus girly girl memes ultimately descend from now, though.) The other two more just felt out of time than actually wince-inducing, with the third story especially feeling like an affectionate nod to the fan culture of a different era. That said, the second one’s whole horrified preoccupation with a Hollywood that refuses to make anything new instead of just remaking the same sure things from its back catalog forevermore either never stopped or has looped back around to feeling real topical.

Insofar as I’m already reading romances, I admit I do have a real soft spot for the whole ‘idiots compensate for total refusal to communicate feelings with grand romantic gestures and hoping the object of their desires will get the idea. It doesn’t work.’ thing that’s a bit of a recurring beat in two of the novellas though.

Prose and characterization wise, all three were pretty well done – though riffing off tropes and archetypes that I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve seen played sincerely and unironically, which did always leave me feeling I was missing context on how to read them. Which is pretty much what I was hoping for going in, to be clear – what’s the point of reading older stories, otherwise? Which is nice, because the actual reading experience of going through it was a bit of a slog. The first one was the real trial, but just overall I’d say the book’s more interesting as a cultural artifact than an artistic work. Oh well, c’est la vie.

[autisticrosewilson]

Euthanasia: Aftermath

Characters: Willis Todd, Jason Todd (mentioned), Bruce Wayne (mentioned), Sheila Haywood (mentioned), Joker (Mentioned)

Warnings: Death, violence, implied/referenced torture, Willis loves his son but makes a lot of questionable choices, he also explicitly blames Bruce for Jason's death, this story can be read within the same universe as Spotlight Overture but like WAY in the future

Willis stares blankly at the grave in front of him. The weeping angel looms above, wings relaxed and stone gaze piercing. The sword it's holding looks real, almost out of place on a silent mourner. A vigilant protector, a sentry to look after it's charge.

He hopes she's more successful than he was. Than the Bat was.

He's surprised Wayne buried Jason in a public graveyard, but maybe he shouldn't be. Men like him don't react well to failure. Why would he want a reminder in his backyard?

Willis would scoff, but he's here to pay respects, and his little boy deserves better. Slowly, he reins in the cold anger simmering in his gut, the grief settling cold and heavy on his skin like mid morning fog.

"Hey kiddo," his voice is gruff but he doesn't care, he's honestly impressed he can speak at all around the lump in his throat, "it's been a while." What's it been, six years? Seven? He'd like to say he's been counting the seconds, but mostly it's been a struggle to make it to the next day.

Jason was supposed to be safe. He'd been content to never see his son again, as long as he was being taken care of. Jason wasn't supposed to die anyway.

He'd had so much ahead of him. School, and college, and marriage, and kids and whatever else he damn well pleased because he was a Wayne, and Wayne's always got what they wanted.

It's not a Wayne's name on the grave. This is the resting place of Jason Todd, and Todd's have always had rotten luck.

He avoids making eye contact with the grave next to Jason's, the tall headstone with the little cherubs carved into it. Sheila was no mother, no matter what that plaque says. He knows two wrongs don't make a right, but when he held Jason in his arms the first time he'd been sure his boy was the exception.

And Jason was. Smart, and witty, and sweet, and brave. Maybe if he'd been born somewhere else, to someone else, he'd have had a little more time.

Willis doesn't notice when he sinks to his knees. Doesn't care about the mud staining his pants or the rain drops starting to beat down on his worn leather jacket. He traces the letters of his boy's name with numb fingers.

"...Cathy said you were named after a hero." He tells Jason absently. "Did you know Jason means healer? You...you told me you wanted to be a doctor once. And you always made sure we kept the first aid kit full, even when the cabinets were empty. And you'd stay up late even on school nights for me to come home so you could put dinosaur bandaids on all my little cuts and bruises." His voice breaks on a wheeze and his vision blurs.

"Oh my sweet boy," he chokes on a sob, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry m'sorrym'sorry-"

He wonders, distantly, who it was Jason called for. Who he considered his dad when he took his last breath.

Wonders who Jason would be more disappointed in, if he could see both of the fucking idiots he'd trusted now.

If he were a good man he'd say he was equally to blame, that he doesn't resent Bruce Wayne, that he doesn't care who the last person Jason thought about was as long as it brought him comfort.

Most would say that he is stubborn, vengeful, and possessive. He wouldn't argue with them. Wayne had possibly the easiest kid to take care of in the world, and had still fucked it up. Wayne had all the means to take care of Jason, and yet Willis is kneeling at his son's grave. His son. His little boy. The baby he'd held in his arms, the toddler he'd helped walk, the kid he helped with homework, and took on fishing trips. The boy he taught how to fix a car and throw a punch.

He loves Jason. Has always loved him, probably won't ever stop until he's in the ground right beside him.

But there is a debt to be paid. A life lost is a life owed. The Alley has rules, and although Willis has never been good with those, this is one he wouldn't hesitate with.

The clowns back in Arkham, cheerfully locked away with hands drenched in Jason's blood. The Bat will not protect it from him. Willis will hunt it down and repay every blow tenfold.

He unzips the duffel bag at his side, digging around until under autopsy reports and bolt cutters he finds the tool he's looking for. The crowbar is long, a little rusted but sturdy. More than good enough for this job, he decides, gripping it loosely.

[prettygirlstothefloor]

Cowboy Carter Review

sorry if i write a lot. i like to yap lol

Ameriican Requiem- i'm a huge sucker for a sitar so i was gripped in from the beginning. i grew up on country music (mainly 90s/early 2000s) and so when she showed up at the CMAs and performed with the chicks it was a childhood dream. but as a person who liked country music around the time 9/11 happened, it's only become even more racist since. the way they treated her that night even though she was one of, if not THE, best performer of the night was so upsetting to watch. even as the best artist on the planet, at the top of her game, she's always going to work a million times harder than any of her peers. i'm so proud of her being able to make a song like to this to put her thoughts out on the whole night that night.

Blackbiird- obviously everyone has heard this song before. i was unaware of the actual backstory to the song since i don't follow the beatles too much (i like george harrison but that's about it lol). i was not aware that the song the song was written for black women during the civil rights movement. i assumed the song was mainly written by john lennon who to my knowledge was kind of a grifter when it came to his activism. having this song come right after ameriican requiem is so poetic.

16 Carriages- shockingly i was able to avoid hearing this song in full until tonight. i tend to only do one single per release and so texas hold em was the one. this song is so heartbreaking because i think about all the kids in the entertainment industry who can probably relate to this song all too well

Protector- these songs she makes for her kids... i'm gonna need her to stop. not because they're bad but i straight up can't listen to blue and probably this song because i want a mom like this 😭

My Rose- i hate that this is an interlude. it's so beautiful and not to be dramatic should've been 10 hours long

Smoke Hour • Willie Nelson- idk what to say about this one lol

Texas Hold 'Em- i love this song. the only problem i have with it is it sounds too clean. like the production sounds too clean. maybe it sounds better on the radio where the quality is lower than streaming but its definitely a song that needs to be played not so isolated.

Bodyguard- there's something in this song. she channeled carole king for this on or something. it's so good instantly a top 20 if not top 10 song of hers through her whole discography.

Dolly P- once again idk what to say about this one its too short to say anything

Jolene- i mean i think the same way about her version as i do about dolly's version. why are we getting mad at these women when we should be getting mad at the men?? take away that beyonce is beyonce for a second. if she was a normal lady and this girl was unaware her man was taken, isn't that more on him than anyone? he's letting it happen.

Daughter- her voice in this song is insanity. the control she has is unmatched truly.

Spaghettii- the beat omgggg. i know this would hit so hard in a mashup with "my house" i'm obsessed.

Alliigator Tears- just from hearing snippets of the country music that's on the radio nowadays, i think this might be one of the few songs from this album that they will eat up. i'm not saying that as a diss at all. i love this song alot especially after a second listen.

Smoke Hour II- i guess i can add on here a random tid bit. i made a country playlist in preperation for the album to come out. i made it on valentine's day. tell me why i named it KNTRY. i didn't even know the "radio station" she has on the album was called that lol.

Just for Fun- i don't listen to lana del rey anymore. i had a small time during last year where i did but then she got real messy again and signed that letter thanking joe biden. that being said this song sounds identical to "norman fucking rockwell". which is a compliment because both are good songs. keep jack antonoff away from beyonce though. that's the good thing about beyonce is she doesn't sound like everyone else which he makes everyone do (yes i am a fan of him but i'm critical of his production lol)

II Most Wanted- i'm sorry i've never been a fan of miley cyrus (except for the song she did for black mirror and that one EP she put out). i want to like this song because i like aspects of the song but it being a miley cyrus song with a beyonce feature is not want i want.

Levii's Jeans- this is also a collab i'm not a fan of. i actually enjoy post malone but i would've liked to see them in a more upbeat song.

Flamenco- idk how to take this song. it's stunning as usual. my thoughts on the lyrics though is she's kinda talking to fans maybe like the OG like destiny's child fans who have started to leave because she's starting to experiment more with her sound and they miss her old sound. i would love to know her take on this song in particular. because i know so many artists who decide to change their sound throughout each release are terrified of losing fans because they're so stuck on a certain sound.

The Linda Martell Show- another one i can't say much on since it's an interlude

Ya Ya- now.... remember what i said about bodyguard??? easily top 10. idk where on my ranking but it's there. the interpolation of "these boots were made for walking" and "good vibrations". there's something about that old soul rock sound that gets me every single time. i know that it doesn't sound anything alike but "freedom" has that same vibe, where it takes alot from old 60s blues soul rock. this is gonna hit so good on tour!

Oh Louisiana- i will say i really like this interlude. second favorite out of the ones with actual music

Desert Eagle- another song she chose to make extremely short when it should've been hours long... come on B

Riiverdance- its a fun and cute song. i think the beat is good but i think i like it more on my first listen.

II Hands II Heaven- i'm hoping this will finally click for me. im seeing everyone really love this song but idk whats not clicking for me. i'll definitely keep listening to it though maybe someday.

Tyrant- someone said this is the thique of cowboy carter and yeah i can definitely hear it. it's a sexy song and it's a fun song. definitely like it alot more after a second listen

Sweet • Honey • Buckiin'- her sampling "i fall to pieces" in this song is so special to me. i do want someone to take this "honey" and add it to the end of pure/honey though i wonder if it would sound any good. i think sweet and buckiin are the best songs out of the three of these.

Amen- i love how this really rounds out the album, calling back to the first song. it feels and is a very emotional song. don't know if i'll go back to it only because i think it could make me cry lol

overall, i think it's a solid album. if we're comparing the acts, which idk how you can because they're two distinctly different sounds, i would probably still go with renaissance but there's still so many solid songs on this album that are now some of my top faves. usually i rate out of 10 but it feels too low tbh, so i'm rating it out of 100. it will definitely grow on me just like renaissance did. 89/100.

[supermxnthathoe]

Can someone please explain to me what actually happened with Jason Todd? Like, I am an avid comic reader. I've read the majority of his comics as Red Hood and the Batman comics from his time as Robin (as well as Death in The Family and everything under that sort of era) -- But I still cannot, for the life of me, wrap my head around what ACTUALLY happened to this boy. Maybe it's the sketchy DC timelines and the fact that the writers can't seem to make up their minds- but somewhere along the way, I just got confused.

The story I believed was true was that Jason found out that his mother- Catherine Todd- was not his biological mother and set out to find his real one- Sheila Haywood. It turned out badly, she was in cahoots with the Joker, and Jason ended up dying in that warehouse in Ethiopia. THIS IS WHAT I THOUGHT HAPPENED.

Then they came out with Red Hood and the Outlaws Rebirth: Dark Trinity, and suddenly Catherine is his birth mother again, and there are actual detailed letters from Willis Todd, given to Jason years later after being received by Ma Gunn, about when Catherine was pregnant with him??

So if this is the case, how do they justify Jason leaving and getting killed? Are they just chalking it up to recklessness??? - I'm not sure because I don't remember this being expanded on in the actual comic.

idk, this might be such a dumb question and maybe I'm just missing something-- but I feel like Jason's comics and story overall are just a bunch of different little stories in different continuities and people pick and choose (the white streak in his hair, for example) whichever suits best.

Let me know if I'm being dumb tho guys 😭

[antiquatedplumbobs]

~a letter written from Freddy Sewell to his mother Violet~

Autumn 1911

Dear mother,

I was very gratified to hear from you about your Thanksgiving dinner and reports on the health of the family. My Thanksgiving was indeed lovely, and I did take several helpings of the aforementioned stuffing, thinking just of you, Mother.

School has been going well! The cold weather means we have moved our exercise to the indoor basketball gymnasium, and the classes remain as interesting, as always. I’ve continued to receive top marks in my science classes and passable marks in the more humanitarian and classical subjects. My chemistry lecturer, Dr. Braumhall, has been a real wealth of knowledge and staunch supporter of mine.

He in fact suggested that I apply to the University of Britechester for a degree in the chemical sciences. I didn't want to say anything until I heard, but I've recently received my acceptance to the chemistry department. They've even offered me a scholarship that covers the cost of my lodgings and tuition. Dr. Braumhall is an alumnus and had some pull within the department, to my utter good fortune.

I suppose that brings me to my bad news: I won’t be returning home this summer. Uncle Elias was able to find my a position working with the Foxbury Electric Co. for the summertime. It won’t be the most mentally stimulating work, but — we must admit — it is closer to the topic of my studies than dairy farming.

I shall be home for Christmas, and I am ever so looking forward to your ham dinner, Mother; Grandmother Minnie's can’t hold a candle to yours. I expect we’ll have an absolutely jolly time, so don’t worry too much about missing me.

Your loving son,

Fred Sewell

~an excerpt from a private note from Freddy Sewell to his brother, Willy~

Will,

I hope you’re well and that you haven’t died of boredom out in good old Brindleton yet. I’m sure mother will have told you all about my news to the family: unfortunately, I won’t be home to fish with you this summer.

I've made some good chums out here, though none are quite as good at hooking a fat cusk as you. The fish in Britechester just don't get as big as they do out in the wilds of Brindleton. One of the only good things about the rural towns is the well-stocked fish ponds.

I’ve been spending some of my nights studying with some of my schoolmates. It started out as just us chaps, but then some of the more daring gals decided they would join us. It’s all very proper — we meet at the academy library, and the librarian on duty is the fiercest woman I have ever had the misfortune of speaking above a whisper near.

There are a few corners that are out of her infernal eyesight, though, and I’ve begun to frequent them when a little spot of privacy is needed. You remember Estie Browne, right? She attended the Brindleton Schoolhouse with us? She’s a part of the study group — quite an impressive woman; she can almost keep up with us men.

Your brother,

Fred

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

next / previous / first

[legolasghosty]

Prompt 8 for willex? It feels too perfect!

Heyyyy anon... yes I know it's been over 2 months. I am just as sad about that as you are, should this ever find you. I swear I haven't been ignoring you, school is just a pain. But anyways, have a lil something for your patience! (I live in shame okay)

Willie laughed, hand clasped in Alex's as they ran down the pier. Technically they didn't have to worry about that guy coming after them, he was a lifer after all. But it was kind of fun to pretend.

"Slow down," Alex gasped, tugging on his hand. But Willie could see the grin on his face when they turned. "What exactly was the point of that?" the drummer asked when they came to a stop.

Willie giggled and wiggled his eyebrows without speaking, twirling a stolen straw between his fingers. They'd been working on getting Alex up to date on queer culture lately, including a certain phrase they liked to live by.

Alex sighed, dropping his chin to his chest. "Right, sorry," he chuckled.

"Good boy," Willie teased, bumping his shoulder against Alex's. "You'll get it eventually."

Alex rolled his eyes. "How does repeatedly messing with a dude's smoothie count as a crime?" he questioned.

Willie shrugged. "I mean I stole his straw," they suggested. "It's the spirit of the thing, not the letter of the law."

"So you claim," Alex retorted playfully. "I feel like I should get a second opinion on that one."

Willie clapped his free hand to his chest in mock offense. "You don't trust me, hotdog?!"

"I do," Alex responded quietly.

Willie was pretty sure he just died again at the soft openness in his eyes. If their brain was a computer, there would be an entire folder just made up of the moments when Alex looked at him like that. Like he'd follow him to the edge of the world, and then over the cliff and into the abyss. Like it didn't matter how badly Willie screwed up, Alex would be right there as long as they wanted him. Like he loved him.

One of these days, Willie would be brave enough to say the words back out loud. As it was, he hadn't gotten up the nerve yet.

"Well then no second opinion required," he stated after a beat too long, backing away from the heavy feelings in his chest. Feelings had never been their area of expertise.

Alex laughed. Mission accomplished. "Hey, isn't checking your sources just part of being responsible?" he asked, humor filling his features and chasing away all that serious stuff.

"But what if it's coming from a really good first source," Willie shot back, poking him in the chest with the straw.

"I'm pretty sure you're not the primary source for homosexual illegal activity," Alex said. "Pretty sure being gay was a crime before you were born."

"See there was this whole thing with a ghost time machine..." Willie joked.

Alex started to laugh, then stopped. He gave Willie a worried glance. "You're messing with me, right?" he checked.

Willie stared back gravely. Held Alex's stare for a long moment. Then burst out into giggles. "Yeah, I'm totally kidding," they admitted.

"Rude!" Alex exclaimed, a relieved chuckle escaping his mouth with the word. "Geez, Willie!"

"Come on, time travel?" Willie teased. "That's not a thing."

"Well I didn't think ghosts were a thing either," Alex pointed out. "But ummm..." He swung his arm through a pair of stand-up binoculars beside him to make his point.

Willie nodded slowly, still giggling. "Fair point."

Alex shook his head in exasperation, though Willie could tell it wasn't real. "Kids these days," he huffed playfully, stealing the straw from Willie's fingers.

"I still resent the fact that you think that being a month older than me when we died means you're older than me," Willie teased, trying to grab the straw back.

"Not my fault I'm right," Alex responded, stepping back and holding the straw up over his head so Willie couldn't reach it.

"No fair, you're tall," Willie complained lightly, swatting at Alex's shoulder.

"Also not my fault," Alex laughed. "You going to blame me for the weather next?"

Willie moved closer, reaching for the sleeve of Alex's hoodie to pull his arm down. "Depends, are you gonna rain on my parade some more?" they said.

"Only when you're wrong," Alex answered, stepping back in an attempt to avoid Willie's grabbing.

"So never," Willie joked, catching the pink fabric and tugging.

Alex tried to pull away, backing up again, but this time he pulled Willie with him by accident. Willie stumbled, falling into Alex's chest and pushing him backwards until he hit the railing of the pier. Willie blinked, startled to realize that they were now pressed together, Alex's body trapped between the metal guard rail and Willie's weight.

It took a moment for them to dare look up and find Alex's eyes, now only inches away. The drummer was giving them that soft, open look again. Willie was suddenly grateful that not being able to breathe wasn't a massive problem anymore.

"On the topic of queer misdemeanors," Alex murmured, his lashes fluttering as his gaze flicked between Willie's eyes and his lips, "can I kiss you?"

Willie hummed something affirmative, they couldn't remember what after, and leaned in. Alex met them halfway, his hand coming up to cup their cheek as their lips brushed. Willie tilted his head, leaning into his palm as he found a better angle to try again. Alex's other arm curled around his shoulders as Willie's hands found purchase on the drummer's waist. Alex's lips were warm and dry and soft and Willie was pretty sure he was going to be addicted to them.

They parted after a long moment. Willie didn't go far, staying close enough to feel Alex's breath against their cheek. He wanted to say it. He wanted to say it so bad. But somehow, the words still refused to form on his tongue. Even with Alex so close, eyes half closed, soft smile on his face, the words wouldn't come. Willie wanted to run.

"When I said 'be gay, do crime', this isn't exactly what I meant," they said instead.

Alex's eyes opened all the way and he stared at them for a moment, before chuckling and dropping his head onto their shoulder. "I mean, it's gay and illegal, right?" the drummer protested weakly.

"No actually, the decriminalized gay marriage and stuff back in 2015," Willie pointed out, the knot inside his mouth relaxing.

Alex's head shot back up. "Wait seriously?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," Willie said, startled. "Supreme Court case and all that. Did you not..."

"I guess it never came up?" Alex offered, shrugging as his eyes dropped to Willie's crop top, glazing over a little as he processed the information. He blinked slowly, then sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll just have to be gay and legal then."

"Well, I did say it was more about the spirit of the thing," Willie reminded him, glancing at his lips again.

Alex breathed out a laugh, meeting their eyes. "Well in that case, I guess we have to."

Willie grinned as their lips met again, melting into Alex. Maybe he couldn't make himself say the words yet. But Alex knew. And that was enough.

[invisibleraven]

i hope i'm not too late, i missed this when you first posted it!

"having a system for putting away dishes, because one is not tall enough for putting away the glasses" for Alex and anyone? 😁🙏

Alex sighed with relief as he slid into the Wilson mansion-away from the crowds of people thronged together on the yard. It was quiet here, letting the weight of performing for people melt away.

Then he heard the clink of dishes and wandered towards the kitchen, finding Carrie unloading the dishwasher, her heels kicked off to the side.

“Shouldn’t you be out there?” he asked with a smirk. “You are the hostess.”

“Shouldn’t you?” She turned, hands on her hips. “It’s your party after all.”

“Eh, the others have it handled, and you know I’m only good in social situations for so long,” he replied with a shrug, taking the cutlery holder out and slowly putting each piece away.

“I know they do, Reggie would live for applause and attention if he could,” Carrie snorted, but her fond expression gave away how she felt for the bassist.

“Pot, kettle,” Alex remarked.

Carrie rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, maybe because she knew she was the exact same way. Maybe that was why she and Reggie worked so well together, even if none of them saw the pairing coming.

“So why are you hiding anyways?” Alex asked, hip checking her away from the dishwasher to do the glasses-well after he saw her straining to reach the top cupboard and wisely said nothing about her height.

“Nosy reporter wanted to ask about Dad,” Carrie said quietly, winding her fingers in the skirt of her sparkly rose coloured dress.

Alex sucked in a breath, knowing that was a sore spot. Trevor had a public breakdown about a year ago, disappearing to some monastery to recover and aside from the odd letter, no one had heard from him.

Carrie had not taken it well, still feeling the sting of being essentially abandoned. Sure she was legally an adult now, but she still wanted her dad. Plus with the whole issue of her mom dumping her as an infant, the hurt compounded.

“You want Luke and Willie to kick him out?” Alex offered.

Carrie shook her head. “Security took care of it. Just needed a moment to regroup.”

“You want to stay in here and raid your freezer?” Alex asked.

“Everything I have is vegan,” Carrie replied, hopping up on the counter after grabbing a spoon for them.

“That’s okay, I’m lactose intolerant,” Alex replied, digging out pints of frozen yogurt.

That’s where the rest of the band found them later, passing the almost empty pint back and forth. Willie glimpsed himself onto Alex’s back to steal a spoonful while Reggie just up and took Carrie’s spoon which got him an indignant shriek.

“Don’t you have any real snacks?” Luke asked as he perused the contents of the fridge.

“You just ate your weight in canapés, I think you’re fine,” Julie replied. She then leaned her head against Alex’s shoulder “You okay?”

“Yeah, just needed a break.”

“Most everyone is gone now,” Reggie stated. “Though I’m sure those left are wondering where the guests of honour snuck off to.”

“Let ‘em wonder,” Carrie replied, polishing off the last spoonful of her treat.

“What were you two even doing in here?” Willie asked.

“I was helping Carrie put away the dishes-what do you do when there’s no one tall to do the glasses?” Alex asked.

“She has a step stool,” Reggie replied, earning himself a glare. “What? Julie has one too!”

Julie shrugged. “So sue me for being vertically challenged.”

Alex leaned back into Willie’s embrace as his friends chatted and bickered, feeling a sense of peace envelope him. Maybe it was lame he spent half the party hiding, but this right here? This was all the party he needed.