#like forget the pseudo parent thing he attempted

[bluegarners]

can you imagine how much more overbearing bruce would be if he actually raised any of his children

[sillyparker]

(mcu!)Peter's love for Spider-Man

I saw a few reddit comments that frankly really bothered me, so I just wanted to ramble about how Peter being somewhat bothered by having to be Spider-Man in ffh and nwh (ffh esp) is more than insanely justified. He will never hate being Spider-Man, infact i think his trauma likely will spur him on to do more and more, either as an escape or a chance to help people the way he hadn't been helped, either way I believe post nwh Peter definitely still finds his joy in being Spider-Man, it'd be literally impossible to just up and make him stop. This part is more of a personal hc before I get into the rest of the post, but I think if he desired to give Spider-Man up after everything, he would have chosen to make the world forget that instead, from what I understand it would have still relieved his troubles, as nobody knows who Spider-Man is, so why would they know Peter?

Far From Home. People take the way Peter acts during the film as him no longer liking being Spider-Man, and it frankly feels very.. ignorant of like literally everything Peter has gone through, honestly. ffh is post endgame, which good fucking god - that is the most trauma inducing experience any possible 15 (16?) year old teen could endure, now im talking both infinity war and endgame, because both are just as bad. In infinity war, he obviously fights alot, not as much as he does in the second film, but it's still very rough, and well he sorta dies, which I'm sure takes a rather extreme toll on him as he could likely feel absolutely everything happening, because of his healing factor, and spidey sense, it's just a very very scary experience, hell I wouldn't be shocked if Peter was drop dead terrified everytime he felt his spidey sense, (he isn't, but I wouldn't put it past being very possible).

And, in endgame he had to hold the gauntlet for an extended period of time from an insane amount of creatures, he literally was holding the future of the entire world in his hands, I would imagine that'd be actually very, very scary. He's consistently put in unfair positions and made to just 'deal' with it, I'm sure he expected some of this but I cant firmly believe he thought he'd end up in such a crazy situation. Now, most obviously the very big part of endgame - Tony Stark fucking died dude!?!?! Let the kid have some time to grieve... not that he ended up getting any, he's literally already lost his parents, (possible uncle), and now his pseudo father, and shit does he lose more right after in such a tiny timespan.

Point is, yeah the fact he want's a goddamn break is not the most insane thing that's happened, god forbid a thoroughly traumatized teenager wants a break without needing to have the burdens of the world (literally) on him again. It just gets to me each time there are such crazy expectations for him, as if any a bunch other characters or people wouldn't literally crumble into pieces if they experienced the amount of stress a kid like Peter is holding constantly. We also get an actual insight on an exact thing I mentioned, where he has a talk with Mysterio where he just wanted to be a normal kid for at least a few seconds, and god is he owed all of that and more. He never got a break, he never got a real chance to comprehend everything that went around him, he got pulled into a fucking other world crisis and yeah - sue him for being exhausted, and not motivated to attempt that all again.

No Way Home. Okay, to start this off - What the fuck? I don't know how obvious it has to be, but the fact Peter is not ecstatic to be Spider-Man after not only having his "identity revealed, but (all I'm about to say is from ffh, still going to get into nwh in a second) almost being killed multiple times, been manipulated by another adult in his life, had his trauma and losses smeared all across his face, faced with taking down an entire insanely large army of killer - explosive - drones, also faced with the fear of accidentally being the cause for a massive incident", is a VERY fair reason, I genuinely think if he stopped being Spider-Man right then and there, everybody he knew would probably support him, because god the things he went through is mind boggling, I don't know how to capture the amount of damage that must have done to Peter, not even just mentally but like quite literal brain damage, he's a kid - no world this severe amount of trauma is taken any forms of lightly. (Which is sorta shown, when Happy goes to pick up Peter on the flower field, and Peter being afraid of Happy maybe not being real)

I wish people gave Peter more credit than they think he deserves, also god Peter fights to be Spider-Man still all throughout nwh, he does his 'duty' by saving all the villains (whilst experiencing the most heinous levels of grief, post May's death), and does everything he can to save the people of their possible destruction, etc. One could fight for the fact Peter.. sorta did cause all of that, even if indirectly - but honestly, I genuinely cannot imagine a different outcome. "What if he went to the lady first, like Strange suggested" It definitely would have not worked, she literally only agreed because he saved her from a being that wouldn't exist had it not been for the earlier mess up, I literally cannot imagine how he would have been able to get any of fixed or back to a state of tolerable at the very least. Peter deserves (and wants) to not live his life as horrible as expected it'd be, he'd never get to any form of normal again, everything he loved was on the line, and half of the world hated him, (alot, wanted him dead or -behind bars).

Peter Parker is just a kid, that is the first and foremost the most important aspect to his character, because the way everything is affected is so so different its ridiculous, the way he will function as a whole when older is very starkly different had this happened to somebody around the age as most of the avengers, all because his brain is just simply not capable of handling such amount's of trauma, or stress. And the way he functions now is so important too, because he's a kid, n' hell will it be obvious how childish he can think or act.

Lastly, another thing I simply hate that people do is when they find the idea of Peter having trauma unrealistic. I'm very much thinking too hard about his character probably, but he is a character with such complex details, and his life is splayed out infront of us through the films, giving us every event that could likely be a cause of something to happen one day, or something that is a cause of an action he already did. I hate that people think just because he's a movie character he's unable to be an actual person in his world, like how everything is simply black and white when it comes to characterization.

Side Note, - this totally turned into just plain out angry rambling, as I've been just annoyed as a whole ever since I started writing this all. so mind anything I say that may be incorrect, I'm defensive about Spider-Man at 8am in the morning and I haven't slept yet, so typos will be made, and some sentences will probably seem confusing.

(next day now and I think i fixed everything(??), I had decided to post this tomorrow/now when I was more comprehensible)

[the-crow-binary]

So I return the favor: your top 10 reasons you fell into Hecula hell? 👀💖

>:)

10- You. (you know what you did. >:<)

9- The parallels with Hector being like a "good" version of Dracula (with his own shades of gray <3)

8- Dracula seeing Hector as his creation :) And his best, thus far, considering how he favors him and made him his protégé :)

7- The power imbalance. Dracula is the Dark Lord, the most powerful evil being, Hector's master and father figure. Hector is just the boy who asked him for power and a home and love and who has no one else but him. <3 Unlike ISAAC, Dracula actually loves him over anyone else...

6- I lied, he doesn't. Lol. Dracula loves himself more. <3 (what is it with Hector and falling for men who prefers Dracula lmfao trevor don't you dare) And what he loves in Hector are things he sees as being the result of his doing, his teachings. Because he got a big ego and barely sees Hector as his own person <3 The fact that, once the possibility that Hector might have betrayed him, his first reaction was to ask for him back so he could basically torture him (turn him into a demon to drink sewage forever), while at the SAME TIME, "hope that [he is] mistaken" and is like "if he's dead, it's fine", shows that though he cares deeply enough to hope Hector didn't betray him... it's not deeply enough to be sad about him dying (or at least, not too much. just as sad as one would be in front of their broken toy :3). Or even start to forgive him for going against him. :) How dare he? Did he really thought he was important enough to be allowed that? That he had agency? Lol, lmao. Learn your place, love. <3

5- Dracula is a manipulative bastard (affectionate). Because Hector was never loved by any of his parents, and straight up ignored by his father, AND no one liked him outside of them anyway, he has no idea how healthy relationships looks like and what parental love should be like. So when he arrived in the Castle, he was like a blank paper-sheet, waiting for Dracula to write whatever he wanted in it :)

4- Hector doesn't have anyone else to love and be loved by <3 (he used to think he had Isaac, before he realizes how Dracula-centered he was. lol) No one showed him true passion like Dracula did :)

3- Even though he has all the good reasons to be completely brainwashed and convinced Dracula is the best and 100% right in everything, Hector somehow isn't. :) He still has his strong character, his boldness, his convictions. And even if he clearly loves Dracula and fear him all the same, he still finds the courage to go against him. Particularly like the version where he begs on his knees for Dracula to stop, thinking he might listen to him, only to get coldly ignored <3

2- Hector is Dracula's specialest boy and it can be literally so cute but can also be so fucked up especially since [insert number 6]🥺

1- Dehumanization... or the attempt at it :) Dracula doesn't love Hector for the person he is, but what he made out of him, and what he can give him. :) A replacement for his late wife? <3 A body to use as he see fit? <3 A general to lead his war for him? <3 A companion when he wants to rest? <3 Or a voice to listen to when he wants to relax? <3 Anything he wants out of Hector, he gets it. And it doesn't matter if he wants or not, it doesn't matter what he feels, he became his the moment he step foot in his Castle. The only moment Hector's feelings matters are when Dracula can use them for his own benefit and manipulate him <3 And yet Hector keep fighting back, fighting for his identity, for his humanity. Yes he has his moments of weakness, of helplessness in Dracula's arms... but he never truly lost what made him Hector. We all know how that ship end >:)

And then ofc there's your top and the 11th reason because there's too many to explain why I fell into this hell to be able to resume it into one top <3

Oh and before i forget

0- The pseudo-incestuous undertones that are EVERYWHERE

[on-stained-glass-wings]

Headcanons: Miquella and the Strain of Pretending to be an Adult

(TW/CW: Discussions of child abuse/neglect)

Miquella may be very good at pretending to be an adult, but that doesn’t mean he is an adult, and that’s a very important distinction most people that interact with him forget about.

Don’t get me wrong; Miquella is both a genius and extremely mature for his age, both due to...well...being over 1,000+ years old and also being forced to grow up early by living in a fraught political environment and even more fraught family. Given what we learn about Marika’s parenting in game, it’s clear that she was a very cold, distant mother, and Miquella probably went from being the golden child to being a burden due to his stagnant physical age. Radagon tried his best, and it’s clear--based on the statue of him and the twins in Loretta’s boss arena in the Haligtree and the incantations they made for each other--that Miquella at least had a positive relationship with Radagon. In the canon of this blog, actually, it was Radagon that helped Miquella and Malenia flee from Leyndell to the consecrated snowfield once Marika grew displeased with their ‘disobedience’, and he was the one to engineer the Great Lift of Rold with its secret mechanism so she couldn’t find them. However, Radagon could only do so much, and it’s very likely that the political situation in Leyndell and the situation with the Greater Will was deteriorating even before Godwyn’s death.

Add to this that Miquella had simultaneously deal with being patronized and babied for his stagnant physical age and being assumed to just be a mini-adult, sprinkle in likely assassination attempts and political predation, and you have a very small, stressed, eternally baby genius who’s trying to save his sister to start with, and then--once he becomes Saint Trina and learns of the plight of the oppressed races and minorities of the Haligtree--half of the Lands Between as well.

Honestly, Miquella pretends to be an adult so well that most sentient beings can be deceived into thinking he is a mini-adult. He is articulate, well-spoken,  and has a vocabulary befitting his true age and then some. He’s brilliant and extremely well-read and educated. He’s forced himself to learn as much as he can about politics and negotiation to hold his own against Leyndell’s elite, foreign delegations, and delegations to the Haligtree. He even seems to have an adult’s emotional maturity, although his facial expressions are noticeably more transparent than those of a fully grown humanoid.

Here’s the thing, though. Miquella’s not an adult, no matter how badly he wants to be. A child who’s content with his knowledge, body, brain, and power wouldn’t encase himself in a cocoon for god knows how much time in order to become an adult.

Miquella’s brain isn’t fully developed. No matter how smart he is or how quickly he’s been forced to mature by the world, he still has the brain structure of an 8-10 year old. He can logic his way into pseudo deductive reasoning but still makes impulsive, short-sighted decisions, because he literally cannot see things any other way. He likes to play with his sister and occasionally longs for the chance to play with other children ‘his age’. He gets overwhelmed really easily--both mentally and physically--and will often have sensory and emotional meltdowns after really long stents of time of keeping up the act of adulting. He just doesn’t have the capacity to grasp things as well as an adult, and it’s that inability to piece together a final picture that drives him into the cocoon, because he hit a mental wall when it came to the unalloyed gold and knew he needed to not have a child’s brain any longer to figure it out.

Yet he’s also a god, and the leader of a kingdom, and is brilliant and clever. He does have an astonishing amount of emotional intelligence and maturity for someone his age, even if it’s nowhere near an adult level. So many sentient beings are relying on him to save them, and if they saw him as childish, they would lose faith. So very few people know that he likes to climb the branches of the Haligtree and play Tree Sentinel vs Ulcerated Tree Spirit in the roots with his sister. They can’t know Malenia helps to wash his hair at night and still reads him bedtime stories (albeit on topics ‘beneficial’ to both).

The few people in the know are several higher-ranking members of the Cleanrot Knights, Finlay, Loretta, and, of course, Malenia, who has long since mastered the art of treating her elder brother like an equal and a child all at once. One of the conditions of her entering a romantic relationship with Finlay was that she understand as well, but when Finlay caught Malenia calming down Miquella after a tearful breakdown and immediately stepped in to assist, the goddess knew she could love no one else.

[mattw83]

A Chloe AU that leads in to Canon Miraculous!

So, I’ve had this idea in my head recently for an AU... well, it leads in to canon, so maybe AU? I’ve always been curious to Chloe and Marinettes history. they didn’t get along before origins, and while there are many reasons, i had one idea of what if they had been friends but something happened... which led to this idea of what if Marinette and Chloe had become friends.  In this AU, Chloe and Marinette met in class and seeing her lonliness and social awkwardness (something they shared at the time) Chloe and Marinette became close friends, by the time they reached canon time they were best friends, CHloe was different, much nicer, and closer to everyone. She still wanted to be popular, and she had bad habits brought on by being a rich girl, but through Marinettes influence, and help getting over her parental issues she saw Marinette as a sister, and Tom and Sabine as more her parents due to house rules, care given through sleep overs. Chloe supported Marinettes drive for fashion, and introduced her to Adrien during her times with him, and they became friends earlier, so when he finally came to school it was smoother.

Alya became a close friend too, and Sabrina, while still subservient was one of the friends group more than a Chloe fangirl.

The umbrella scene still takes place as Marinette still forgets her umbrella, and Adrien lends her his.

As they were already friends, she knew him less as the famous model, and had not seen him as happy as he had been in a long time, especially since he lost his mother.

When their hands touched, she felt something, but tried not to, as she knew her best friend had been crushing on him for a long time.

Chloe becoming a fan of ladybug becomes a big thing in their friendship, and like with Alya in canon, it grew increasingly difficult to keep the secret. Being Queen Bee was a highlight, her sense of heroism was more inclined than her popularity, as she felt the desire to protect Marinette, her pseudo family and other friends. She even sought advice from Marinette and revealed the secret only to her, not knowing she was Ladybug, and she advised her to speak to ladybug and return it. Though it scared her a little tat she would never get chosen because she still wasn’t as nice as she could be, even planning to cause an accident she could solve to prove she was a worthy hero; an idea Marinette shot down quickly, and assured her she would be accepted as a hero if she just showed her honesty, and was herself.

Personally, things took a bad turn when her mother returned, sending Chloe in to a spiral of doubt and self-hatred that she wasn’t ‘good enough for mom’. Though she was assured she was fine as she was, her feelings for Adrien were becoming more complex, his rejections, and attempts to maintain their friendship had begun to be compared to his friendship with Marinette.

Chloe started realising Marinette had begun acting weird around Adrien since he came to school, despite being friends with him, she thought nothing of it, as Marinette would be weird at times, and she HAD been acting strange, with disappearing and spending less time with her.

Marinette, trying not to fall for adrien, was more open, as Ladybug, to Chat Noirs advances, though it still took sometime, and eventually she accepted Chat’s feelings, though they remained devout to holding their identities back until shadowmoth was defeated, after Chat kept repeatedly getting in to harm way to protect her, she feared he would do the same outside his powers.

Marinette felt guilty, as she still held feelings for Adrien, despite not wanting to give in to them it was obvious to Alya and others that she had a crush on him. When the girls confronted Marrinette, Chloe laughed, thinking it was a joke, but in the end it ended in a big fight as Marinette confessed she did, and she tries to apologize to Chloe, but their friendship became strained.

Chloe decided to ‘get ahead’ and asked Adrien to be her boyfriend, but his rejection hit her hard, and her old feelings ended up getting her akumatised for the first time (in this AU)

This led her to rekindle a lot of her old fears of abandonment, and loneliness, and she broke off her friendship with both Adrien and Marinette, both of them blaming themselves, as Marinette thought it was over her ‘betrayal’ and Adrien of his rejection. Ladybug ends up ending her relationship with Chat over this, and after a while, Adriens heartbreak is helped by Kagami, and Marinette gets comfort from Luka, and though they hold off on relationships for fear of being rebounds (unbeknownst to Kagami and Luka) they still end up breaking up again as Marinette realises she’s making the same mistake she did with Chat, and still loved Adrien, and Adrien still loved Ladybug.

After a few weeks, Zoe shows up, and having a sister helps restore Chloe, but she remains icy to Adrien and Marinette, who are now getting even closer faster over Chloes distance.

Still being Queen Bee, made it harder on Marinette, as she experienced her friend during missions, and the icy reception as a civilian.

Over time, Chloes Jealousy lessens, until she is akumatised again due to an outreach by Marinette and Adrien to try and fix their friendship leads to an argument. Ladybug chooses Zoe to be viperion.

The aftermath leads to Chloe feeling like she has been replaced again, but also leadnign shadowmoth to believe that the new bee holder may have been chosen because Chloe was Queen bee.

It is not long after that Chat and Ladybug, still a little wary over their breakup, and (the events of Ethemeral) reveal their identities, and start dating. And then seeing Ladybug and Chat Noir acting cozy again, a certain touch of each other, an almost casual gesture that only she had noticed between Marinette and Adrien made it click for her. She went crazy as all the flirtations between the two as heroes made it feel like they had been hiding this from her since the beginning, and had been going behind her back all along, and only now they had made it public in civilian side. She tries to mentally deal with it, but after a few days she snaps during a fight with an Akuma, seeing them both flirt, and work together so well, Queen Bee stuns them both, and Shadowmoth thinking she had turned, asks for the miraculous and she could keep her own. She takes them, and reveals their identities, but she doesn’t give them up, and Marinette pleads with Chloe to not do anything.

Chloe is’t listening though completely broken that in her mind the person she trusted most had taken her crush, and played with her for so long.

her final words to Marinette are ‘I wish we had never been friends’.

The wish is fulfilled, and the past changes, and no matter what their always seemed to be a barrier between her and Chloe, and Chloe had a dislike for Marinette that she couldn’t understand... and thus, their canon relationship...

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

I know, its a weird idea, but its whats been in my head for a while. I hope if you read this all that you enjoyed it at least :)

[missblissy]

hi!! how are you??

if you are still accepting applications, I could ask you for a headcanon for Alastor x fem! reader, where the reader is the daughter of another capital sin (similar to what Charlie is), she may be the daughter of satan, but she is calm, kind and even a little shy but still knows how to defend herself. maybe he meets her when she goes to visit Charlie at the hotel, she doesn't believe in redemption, but she knows there are people who can be kind and still be sent to hell, please?? 👋👋

((Not a problem Nonny!! Sorry for the wait :') This one took me a little longer than the others to do. Thank you for asking, and I hope you enjoy!!))

Not many people knew your name, nor that you even existed. You preferred to keep it that way. It made it easier to mingle amongst the rest of hell without them fearing you. At some point, anyone would get tired of people running from them in fear. Sure it was funny at first. Now it was just a little sad. But thankfully, with time, people forgot anything about you. Which was foolish on their part really, because who would forget about the daughter of Satan himself? Sure, you were daddy's little princess, the precious hell child born from the blood of angels.

But you had one friend, a childhood friend that spanned back hundreds of years. Charlie was an odd one but she amused you with her quirky personality. It was hard for you to visit though, you lived in the frozen wastelands in the center of hell, trapped by miles of mountains encasing your father's castle in the hunk of ice that prevented him from leaving. Little did he let you leave either seeing as how important you were to his legacy. However, when you had the chance to leave, you would.

And that's how you found yourself in a much different version of hell than you remembered. Pride had changed a lot in the last few decades since you were there. You heard a rumor that Charlie had moved back into the dank old hotel that her parents use to run ages ago. Something about reforming sinners into redemption, whatever it was it sounded stupidly impossible and not worth the effort. You wouldn't tell her that though, you'd just support her in whatever crazy idea she had this time.

You found the hotel eventually. The second you walked in the door you were already met with chaos. Tenants scattered the halls and others filled a bar you didn't remember being there before. Some people argued with one another over little things, others passed the time by watching the argument.

"Why Hello~!" You spun around and saw a man standing behind you. His demonic smile gave of a faint glow as he grinned at you, "I don't think I've ever seen you here before? Come for some cheap pseudo-science and false redemption attempts as well?”

The way he asked made you giggle behind your hand. What an odd way to ask such a question, "No," You chuckled, and toyed with the idea of excitement that this poor fool didn't know who you were, "I just came for a visit." You told him.

The man stared at you, gazing at you up and down. From your shoes to the way your hair curled above your head, "You aren't from around here, are you?" He asked, but before you could answer he asked again, "You must have recently died, I'm guessing?"

Again you laughed at his lack of knowledge as to just exactly who you were. You were going to tell him but you were interrupted by a yell. You both turned your gaze across the hotel lobby. Across the way was Charlie, with stars in her eyes and waving her hands like a freak.

"(Y/n)!!" She cheered before rushing over. The next words out of Charlie's mouth were enough to make the grin of this man fall so low that you could barely call it a smile, "I can't believe you made it out of The Frozen Lake! How long did it take you to get here all the way from the center of Hell?"

First, you laughed at the shock on his face, then gracefully giggled and said nonchalantly, "It only took a few days. You know how my father is, though. I had to put up a strong fight to convince him to let me leave for a while."

Charlie noticed who you were standing with, and smiled, "Oh! You've met Alastor!" Then she dramatically gasped, "Oh!!" She exclaimed again, "You haven't been here for... what? A hundred years, right?" You nodded your head, "Then you haven't been around to meet Al then!"

There was a sudden silence that fell over the three of you. Charlie was mostly oblivious to it, but you felt a sinister joy and let a horrid grin grow on your face as you watched Alastor connect the dots and do the math in his head. The realization that he was talking to the daughter of Satan nearly blew him over. He had to plaster a new stronger smile on his face to replace the stunned one.

You held your hand out to Alastor, "The Radio Demon, right?" You've heard stories of him before. He cleared his throat and did a little fix-up of his bowtie. He took your hand soon after and firmly gave it a shake, "I prefer Alastor, these days." He gave a firm dig of his claws before he let go of your hand. You ignored his microaggressions and smirked at him, knowing you were superior to him no matter what he thought.

"Oh, yes I remember," You teased, "I heard you were retired now,, right?" You could practically see the glass shatter in his eyes. You had gotten deeply under his skin in a matter of seconds. It was obvious that you were jabbing at his ego.

Charlie let out a weak laugh and shyly chuckled out, "Ahaha--..uuhhh... W-why don't I give you a tour, (Y-Y/n)!" You took this as a chance to leave Alastor there. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction to defend himself or to egg him on any further. You made it very clear that you were above him at this point, and that he was nothing but dirt at your feet. As you walked away, you gave a little glance over your shoulder, peering at Alastor with that frustrated and forced smirk on his lips. Oh, how you thought to yourself, you were going to enjoy visiting this silly little hotel.

[red-doll-face]

I just found your blog and I LOVE IT.

If I might ask: What’s your saddest dbd headcanons (killers or survivors)

Call me crazy, but I must know! ❤️

Ohh this one was a good one but it hurt me so badddd, ahhh. I’m glad to share , I have some bad dbd brain rot lmaooo I didn’t do every character so I hope these are ok 🥺 these are a bit long too

Sad Dead by Daylight Hcs

Claudette Morel:

Claudette is one of the criers. Probably cries while getting mori’d and can't help the tears during the really bad matches. Her pain tolerance isn’t very high, hence the willingness to waste time healing herself if it means she can stop being in so much pain.

Meg Thomas:

Spends time alone thinking about her past life. Her mother is a subject that makes her really frustrated. People mentioning their moms makes her a little standoffish. Wishes she had a chance to say goodbye in some way.

Ace Visconti:

Ace doesn't have much family to even miss him. He wonders if they noticed he’s gone or hasn’t come back. Maybe they think he hit big bucks and left them behind. Ace is stuck really. Even if he were to go back, he’d be dead or working off his debt.

Feng Min:

Gets super mad when she loses, it makes her so angry that she doesn’t control the trials. She blames other people for her losses but actually is very critical of herself. Casts the blame on others so she doesn't have to face her own mistakes.

David King:

All of his perks are about putting his ass on the line for his teammates yet everyone seems to think he’s selfish and a dumb brute. David doesn't know what to do to be more approachable; genuinely wants to be seen as a friend.

Laurie Strode:

Laurie never got the chance to mourn her friends. She thought she won. Finding out she’ll never truly escape Michael or be able to forget him makes her so mad. When she gets Michael in trials she makes sure the glass in her pocket is extra jagged and serrated.

Jane Romero:

Jane only wanted recognition and acknowledgement. Everything she's worked so hard for feels like a waste for her now. She should have spent more time on herself or with her father. Jane feels like she has no purpose anymore besides running and screaming for the enjoyment of the entity.

Yui Kimura:

Yui can’t stand the Clown or the Stealth Killers. Reminds her of bad memories. When she loses against killers like ghostface, she is especially angry.Her fighting spirit can’t help her actually get back at them.

Zarina Kassir:

Spent so much time fighting inequality only to spend the rest of her life where the odds are never in favor of the survivors. Where the oppressed are destined to lose. Each one of the people is subjugated, both killer and survivor and there's nothing she can do to free them.

Cheryl Mason:

She's been through literal hell and back just to end up in a weird recurring nightmare. At least Silent Hill had an escape. She's killed a god and somehow someone her size with a boxcutter can kill her? Huh.

Élodie Rakoto:

Feels guilty over the loss of her parents and feels extremely disillusioned by this realm. It's so much more boring than she thought it would be. All of her searching and traveling was not worth this shithole.

Steve Harrington:

Steve, though 18, is very much still a kid. Steve is naive about certain things and his optimism gets chipped away at a lot. Wasn’t too enthusiastic at having to care or look after Dustin and his friends but misses having people to protect.

Jeff Johannson:

Someone who definitely ends up taking hooks for people and ends up dying. Has a reputation among the killers as a survivor who is easy to leverage during the endgame because he will try for that save.

Kate Denson:

Feels very lucky to even have her guitar. The other survivors didn't get to bring many things with them. Makes her feel a little bad when she Often feels too worn out and exhausted by the trials to play it.

Quentin Smith:

Unfortunately stuck in pseudo-hell with his abuser. Gets really anxious against Freddy. Leans on his fellow survivors. Will sometimes accidentally bring Freddy to others in an attempt to get Freddy the hell away for him.

Evan ‘The Trapper’ Macmillan:

Actually has tried on numerous occasions to remove the metal rods and shrapnel embedded in his skin. It hurts like hell and just when he thinks he’s got it, he loses grip. These attempts never work.

Philip ‘The Wraith’ Ojomo:

When he’s alone, Philip will try and talk to himself. His vocal cords are warped, his voice a scratchy growl and garbled gurgle. He remembers what he used to sound like but he tries talking less and less.

Max ‘The Hillbilly’ Thompson Jr.:

Besides being named after someone who locked him away for most of his life? Max has to rest a lot between trials. The constant movement puts strain on him and causes him dull pain. His back causes him a lot of grief. The Entity is barely merciful.

Michael ‘The Shape’ Myers:

Meant to be forgotten by everyone who ever knew of him and he knows it. Loomis, after deciding that Michael couldn't be ‘fixed’ just hoped that the system would swallow him. If it weren't for the entity, Michael knows he'd either be dead or caught and back with Loomis.

Bubba ‘The Cannibal’ Sawyer:

Used to be one of the nicer killers to go against and might have been sweet to certain survivors who deserved kindness. But the Entity punished him for it. Bubba isn't very nice anymore. Probably a little meaner to avoid being in trouble again.

Amanda ‘The Pig’ Young:

Another one down to give second chances, much like the second chance she saw in John Kramer. Doesn’t do this a lot however, therefore escaping the ire of the Entity. She’s spent a lifetime hurting others emotionally and physically. Now, she’ll spend an eternity.

Rin ‘The Spirit’ Yamaoka:

The pain and anguish is so heavy but time is no cure in a place where time is nonexistent. No happiness to replace her rage. Especially in a place where her anger is a weapon for a greater power. Also has tried to pull the glass out of her skin and press her limbs back together. Can’t stand to see herself in the mirror.

Adiris ‘The Plague’:

Her body is always on the precipice of falling apart. Her skin rots; her flesh aches and feels like it will tear away at any moment. She is immortalized yet so close to death. Her body hurts so much but she has a purpose to serve. (makes me even sadder bc jannneeeee my mainnnnn😔)

Kazan ‘The Oni’ Yamaoka:

Misses his son. Never got to see him grow up, considering he;s already met his descendant. Proud from a distance because that's all he can be. The beginning of something so angry that it passes down his family line.

Caleb ‘The Deathslinger’ Quinn

During his life, was under the control of people who made him work for their gain who used him. The Entity emphasizes the killers as a position of power but Caleb does much of the same here. Works and works. Never for himself.

Pyramid Head ‘The Executioner’:

His existence has always included pain. He’s not quite sure what it’s like without it. He��s made several efforts to take the pyramid off. It pulls painfully at his neck. Makes awful groaning noises and roars.

Ji-Woon ‘The Trickster’ Hak:

Has never been much more than entertainment for other people since he was a child. Never expected to be much more. To the point that now, if he doesn't feel impressive in some way, he feels incomplete. The entity is his way to really indulge his ‘true artistry’.

Yun-Jin Lee:

A bit selfish when it comes to surviving. A few people around the campfire dont like her for that reason. Some of the meaner people will even leave her behind because they remember all of the times Yun-Jin might have done something similar.

Thanks for reading!!! I’m sorry I don’t post often but I have Shit ton of hw and I recently started a new project sooo ya know 💖💖💖

[cult-of-artemis-and-athena]

The Grooming We Sustained

I watched this video by Illuminaughty, about the history of Victoria's Secret (link below if you want to watch it). I realized and I couldn't stop realizing...

https://youtu.be/u7rTN2dIhso

Despite its flaws, the #meToo movement legitimately outed a number of extremely sketchy men, such as Harvey Weinstein, who used their cocks to gatekeep the entertainment industry or used their employees as a sort of personal source of sexual amusement. I think #meToo, by exposing the disproportionate number of perverts in the elite of society, inadvertently increased society's receptivity to Pizzagate and theories about The Lolita Express, because why wouldn't these perverts stop at legal adults, consenting or not?

To sum up the video, VS started in the 60s as a faux-upscale lingerie store which catered to men who wanted to buy lingerie for their lovers. At a point around the 80s, it was purchased by L Brands, which also owns Abercrombie & Fitch, The Limited, The Limited Too, Bath & Body Works, Express/Structure, La Senza, and other mall stores.

The problem with the brand was the founder/CEO, Les Wexner, who hung out with Jeffrey Epstein and defended him from allegations. He sexually harassed women at his office, sexually assaulted models, made inappropriate comments, and fired or demoted models who refused his advances. He was with L Brands in one form or another from 1963 until just this year, 2021.

My impression of VS within the past 10 years is that it's been what the upper middle-class white-bread American woman thinks is sexy. It's been the Olive Garden of lingerie.

In the 00s, however, I remember VS being a sort of prestige brand with teens as early as 5th grade. It was the brand for the girls who wore the pants that had "JUICY" written across the butt, and I remember being on the bus listening to boys (I must emphasize this is on a middle school bus) saying girls who wore those pants were trying to advertise that they were "wet". Claire's, a store with teen and pre-teen consumer base, was selling chokers that looked bondage collars. Abercrombie & Fitch was in trouble with parents who realized the store their minor children wanted to buy clothes from sold A&F Quarterly, which contained soft-core porn, sexual commentary, and articles about sex. They were in trouble again later for selling thongs in the Abercrombie Kids store. The music marketed to minors contained questionable lyrics about being rubbed the right way, sweating til their clothes come off, and comparing themselves to a sex slave.

I'll be clear: Thongs and push-up bras, bondage collars, sexual photo magazines, and songs with sexual lyrics are not verboten on their own. The problematic part is that they were implicitly (or explicitly, in the cast of the A&F Kids thongs) marketed to minors, or at least did fuck all to temper their popularity with minors. A&F defended their A&F Quarterly magazine, saying that its intended audience was college students who were of legal age for the material. That is true. Likewise, the argument could be made that parents should parent their kids and set limits for what entertainment they consume and what they wear. That's also true.

However, minors were begging their parents for these things or simply accessing them on their own. If a teenager is just walking around the mall unsupervised (which I'd say they should be able to), the A&F or VS store, or wherever they'd go to buy Juicy-butt pants, wasn't going to card them. Claire's doesn't keep the pseudo-bondage chokers behind the counter. There's also an element of something approximating sensory overload for the parents. It's near impossible to screen everything, especially when the mainstream culture is designed by a cabal of rapists, whether intentionally, or simply because it's the cultural norm in the circles they run with. The 12 year old asked for some fucking bullshit pop album, the parent looks at the album and it appears to have a teenage girl/boy on it and there's no "parental advisory" label, so it can't be that bad, right?

For Millennials, VS was part of this weird push for sexual precocity. A lot of us were "not a girl, not yet a woman" and trying to assert our maturity and feel grown, which involved a lot of tight, short, low-cut, hiked-up, and thrust into a sexually appealing shape. There wasn't really a middle ground between children's clothing and that beauty standard. I suppose there was alternative style, but it was still cooler and more rebellious to wear your Jncos with your thong exposed, a slice of midriff showing, and "handlebar" pigtails. The Disturbed girlie tee that said "Mistress" was cool and someone in my 7th grade class had one. And you weren't alt unless you had a choker styled like a bondage collar or a blowjob gag. I was alt in middle- and high-school and remember there being pressure to be (or pretend to be) sexually open, kinky, and not have limits. This was middle school...

The culture at the time had such a racy tone that saturated everything because the people who architected it were perverts of the highest order. I would guess that parents probably overlooked what they were buying for their minor children due to mere exposure effect. It likely spread through "So-and-so's kids have that and they're decent people, too, so I guess I'll allow it." It's also possible that many parents were naive. I remember a girl in my 4th grade class wore a South Park shirt to school and got in trouble. Her mother said something like "I got it on vacation because it had cute cartoon kids on it and didn't think it was anything bad". I forget what setting this was, but a minor had a weed leaf shirt his mom thought was a palm tree. I think that's how a lot of this shit flew past the radar.

Boys were also equally victimized by this, similarly through media, music, and video games that would have been fine for an adult audience. They were pressured to act lewd, be ashamed of their virginity - retrospectively, it's ridiculous for a 13 year old boy to be making fun of another 13 year old boy for not knowing or doing some sexual thing, but that was normal and funny at the time - and listen to the most explicit music they could get ahold of for clout.

So...should teenage minors who are practically being beat over the head 24/7/365 by their hormones from age 11-13 onward be expected to remain innocent, sexless babies until age 18?

Of course not, but an entertainment industry and corporations run by perverts and literal rapists shouldn't have been the party that provided the sexual and behavioral guidance and norms to an entire generation. I don't think it's moralistic screeching to object to massive impact that rapists have had on popular culture.

The oblivious parents are partially to blame, but their ignorance wouldn't have been as harmful if there weren't a billion-dollar cultural machine in the picture mass-marketing sex divorced from love or responsibility to people who don't know better and saying, "Don't let your mom see this. It's a secret for cool people."

Boomer parents weren't exactly good, in general, about talking to their kids about sex. Susan spent the 70s getting her back blown out in the back of various vans with fur interior and water beds, and now she's too bashful to say "penis" and "vagina", and has to whisper when she refers to sex as "intercourse". Even a boomer who found the middle ground between 70s hedonism and 50s pearl-clutching repression is going to naturally have a hard time keeping ahead of cutting-edge, professional groomers.

The larger impact of all this takes the form of people who haven't woken up to realize how fucked up this all was, and how we may have been covertly groomed, in mass, by corporate pedophiles and rapists. Those people, perhaps, might be the ones so desensitized that it seems appropriate, if not preferable, to teach masturbation techniques to kindergarteners, promise teens they should start their sex work career on their 18th birthday, claim pedophiles are "just another sexual minority", and attempt to argue that queer acceptance means involving children in kink events and drag shows.

[soulmate-game]

Part 1

After the Discovery, things didn’t change as much as everyone thought they might. “Everyone” being just Marinette, of course.

She got a lecture from Lois about worrying her, and then a joke from the older woman about no longer having another non-hero in the house to team up with.

“Wait, Dad,” Jon spoke up after that comment from his mom, bobbing up and down on his heels. Both him and Clark had long since changed out of their costumes, which didn’t take long considering both of them having super speed. “Does this mean Mari can meet Damian? And is she going to join a hero team—“

“I already have a team, Jon,” Marinette interrupted, soft but firm at the same time. Two months was more than long enough to know that Jon could talk forever if he was allowed to. “Chat Noir, Viperion, Bunnyx, and Ryuuko are all Miraculous users like me,” she had already sat down and explained the bare basics of her abilities and the Paris situation. Lois had known better than to scold her, no matter how gentle the scolding was, before Marinette had a chance to say anything.

Clark blinked, looking between both of his kids. And yes, Marinette was well and truly one of his kids already. He couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle. “She can meet Damian when school starts back up again, Jon. We don’t want to rush anything,” he started out by telling his son. Marinette was still very jittery. Two months was nowhere near enough time to recover from the trauma of watching your parents die, after all.

(In fact, Clark thought, for some people not even a lifetime was long enough. Batman briefly came to mind as an example.)

The girl still had nightmares almost daily, and panic attacks that resulted in brief spans of mutism at least once a week. Those, at least, had severely decreased in frequency, but it was clear that she was far from ready to meet very many new people. Especially people like Damian Wayne, who was hard enough for someone in perfect mental health to handle even on a good day.

“And Marinette,” Clark switched over to his pseudo-daughter. “If you have that many teammates, surely they would understand that you need a break,” when Marinette didn’t meet his eyes, Clark felt dread build up in his stomach. “Marinette, they know about your parents, right?”

The girl fidgeted. Clark closed his eyes.

“Nobody knows my identity,” She admitted after a tense silence. “I know everyone else’s, even though I only found out Chat’s by accident. But they don’t know mine, and I can’t ask them to give me time off anyway.”

“Why not, honey?” Lois asked as gently as she could, picking up on the beginning signs of Marinette closing herself off. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything any of them could do to stop it. Marinette refused to meet any of their eyes, and even before she spoke her new family knew that they wouldn’t get anything else meaningful out of her about the Paris situation, at least for the day.

“They need me.”

Clark and Jon traded a look. That statement felt a bit too familiar for them. It was something they heard from a lot of heroes who tried to justify overworking themselves. It was something both of them had said before.

But they let the topic rest for the night. Pushing Marinette wouldn’t do any good for anybody.

—*—*—*—*—*

A week passed. Lois and Clark were sitting on the couch watching TV when Lois caught her husband’s eyes darting up to the ceiling. Sighing, she turned the volume down a few notches.

“Did she leave for Paris again?” She asked even though she already knew the answer. Clark nodded grimly.

“Yesterday she didn’t get back in until almost four in the morning,” he admitted, running a hand over his face. “And now, it’s already eleven and she’s just now heading out. I know she doesn’t want me or Jon going to Paris because of Hawkmoth’s magic, but…” he trailed off with his mouth set in a deep frown. Lois could only sigh and lean against his arm comfortingly.

“I know,” she breathed quietly.

“She can’t keep working herself to the bone like this, Lois. Sometimes she’ll head right over to Paris after a nightmare, like she needs to remind herself of something, but she always comes back in less than an hour in that case. But this— when she leaves to fight HawkMoth or patrol Paris before ever going to sleep in the first place— it’s like she’s trying to avoid the nightmares by overworking herself too much to even dream.”

“I know,” Lois rubbed a hand on Clark’s back in gentle circles.

“It reminds me of Batman sometimes,” Clark said, his voice filled with uncharacteristic defeat. “Marinette doesn’t get violent like Bruce, but… never sleeping, throwing herself into heroism, she even refers to Ladybug as if they are different people, Lois. I can’t always help Bruce since he’s a grown adult and more than capable of shutting me out when he wants to, but Marinette is our kid now. I’m just not sure how to help her.”

Lois took a deep breath. “Well, she’s not Bruce so you can’t just bait her into a spar to sort out her feelings,” she mused with faint humor. “But how about we start with sending Jon to Paris the next time you guys hear her leave? The sooner we figure out exactly what the situation and her relationship with her team is like, then maybe the sooner we can find some answers.”

Clark nodded, and looked back up to the ceiling. “I know you heard that, Jon. Don’t get in the way, and come back if Marinette finds you and tells you to. We don’t want her to think we don’t trust her.”

A beat passed, and Clark rolled his eyes fondly.

“Don’t forget to go to bed as soon as she gets back, Jon. I don’t want to deal with two overly exhausted children.”

A thump.

“I’m sixteen!” Jon yelled back, clearly for Lois’s benefit as his mom let out a short burst of laughter.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Ladybug!”

“Look, it’s Ladybug!” “Woo! Go ladybug!” “Could you beat this guy extra fast, Ladybug? I’m late for a meeting!”

People in the streets were shouting in French happily, pointing up at their resident spotted heroine. Some people groused at her in mild or fond annoyance, asking her to beat the Akuma-of-the-day a bit faster for various reasons or jokingly calling her a slow poke. Most people just got pictures or videos on their phones of her as best as they could, watching her swing by in awe and admiration.

It was familiar. Too, too familiar, and Jon made sure to get it all on camera. His parents would want to see this. The pair of contacts he was wearing, a gift from Red Robin, translated everything that was being said for him into helpful little English subtitles.

And there was his sister. Marinette had been tough to pin down, and this was Jon’s third time trying to follow her in Paris. The first time, the day after that late night discussion between his parents, ended in less than five minutes. Marinette caught him and sent him home firmly, which was followed by a heart-to-heart with all four of them when she got home.

She still refused to tell them anything more than the basics about Paris’s situation. For some reason, she seemed extremely reluctant to talk about it. She had no problem comparing experiences and hero jokes with him and his dad, but the moment they tried to talk about Paris-specifics, Marinette clammed up.

It was the second of Jon’s attempts to follow Marinette, just a week after the first, that brought up a possible reason. Because Jon had watched a civilian that he hadn’t been able to get to in time get pinned under a thrown car and killed—only for Ladybug’s powers to reverse all the damage and bring the man back to life.

Jon had raced back home right after that, not even giving Marinette the chance to see him. After relaying what had happened to his parents, they all agreed to one last tail. The pieces were already falling together, and none of them liked the picture they were painting. They wanted to confront Marinette as soon as possible. So here he was, another week later.

Jon kept recording throughout the fight, watching as Marinette clearly led her team. There was no mistaking that all her teammates respected her and treated her word as law. Even Chat Noir, who was Ladybug’s deputy, always referred to Ladybug’s opinion before issuing any orders. Civilians didn’t always flee the scene, taking their time as they tried to record the fight. And when the Akuma was beaten and only Ladybug made a move to catch the corrupted butterfly, the final pieces clicked into place. Jon managed to stay still long enough to catch the crowd of fans running forward, trying to mob Ladybug with pleas for autographs or statements or interviews, before he left. Ladybug’s team had acted as a buffer between her and the crowd anyway, so Jon was able to leave with a clear conscience.

When he walked into his house, already changed back into normal clothes, he waved his phone with a serious look on his face as both his parents waited anxiously.

“Yeah. This is pretty bad,” Jon warned them as he hooked his phone up to his laptop, and played the footage for them.

—*—*—*—*—*

When Marinette got home, it was to a clear intervention. Nervously detransforming, she looked to Tikki and back to her new family. The Kwami, who had previously just been explained away as the source of her powers, gently nudged the girl forward. She knew her holder needed this.

Clark and Lois gently explained why they asked Jon to follow her, explaining that they were all concerned about how badly she was overworking herself.

“You’re getting only three hours of sleep, and that’s on the days that you wake up with nightmares,” Clark’s

voice was quiet, begging her to listen. “Every other day, you teleport to what I can only hope is Paris every time, and you don’t come back for hours. Even if you spend that whole time fighting Akumas, you still only get an hour’s worth of sleep maximum when you get back. Sometimes you don’t even sleep at all until you collapse of exhaustion,” he leaned forward over the table, worry etched in every line on his face. “Marinette, we’re worried. We wanted Jon to see what the situation in Paris was like, because we thought that maybe it would explain why you seem to care about it more than your health. We didn’t know if it was just you needing to keep busy, or something else.”

“And you’re gone during the day too,” Lois added. “And we get that. HawkMoth attacks whenever he feels like, and we all understand if you have to disappear at odd times to fight his Akumas. But this is more than that, isn’t it?”

Marinette’s hands were clenched into fists, and tears were starting to bubble up in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything. Jon slowly approached her, waiting for her small nod before laying one of his larger hands over her fists and gently prying them open before she hurt herself. He kept his hands there, holding hers for both of their comfort.

“I took a video, today,” he admitted gently. “Dad already erased it from the laptop and my phone, don’t worry. But they— we all— needed to see it. The way Paris treats you, Marinette—“

“It’s like how Metropolis used to treat Superman. How they sometimes still do,” Lois interrupted, trying to get Marinette to meet her eyes. “We all thought that Superman showing up was the end of our problems. That as soon as he showed up, the villain or criminal or whatever that was causing us problems was done for. That he could save everyone,” Lois’s eyes grew melancholy. “But we had to learn the hard way that he’s not invincible, no matter how much he might seem like he is. We had to learn the hard way that nobody, no matter how strong or how many powers they have, can save everyone. The kind of trust we had in him before is toxic, Marinette. It’s toxic to us, because we stop being as careful as we should be if we think he’s always going to catch us. And it’s toxic to him, too.”

“How?” Marinette asked, her voice impossibly tiny and her eyes glittering with unshed tears as she darted her eyes between them. “They need someone to believe in. They— I make them feel safe. I— isn’t that good?”

“You feel like it’s your job to be there no matter what, right?” Clark asked, meeting her gaze with a warm, but firm one of his own. “That you have to do whatever it takes to win every battle, no matter what it costs you, because they believe you will. You start feeling like everyone you don’t save is your fault. And that’s not okay,” he stood up and Jon slowly backed away, allowing their father to kneel by Marinette and clasp one of her shoulders. “It always hurts. You might never forget the faces of the people you can’t save, but it isn’t your fault. You told me and Jon that you don’t blame us for what happened to your parents, that it’s stupid to blame the hero for something that wouldn’t have happened if the villain didn’t attack in the first place,” his grip tightened slightly, trying to offer comfort when Marinette tended at the mention of her parents. “If you don’t blame us, even though we were the ones in costume and fighting that day, then you need to stop blaming yourself too.”

The tears finally overflowed, salty water trickling down Marinette’s cheeks and sloppy sobs ripping themselves from her throat even as she threw herself into Clark’s chest. He hugged her tightly, letting her cry.

“B-b-But,” Marinette stuttered in between hiccuping sobs. “My powers reverse damage, m-my powers bring people back,” she sniffed, burying her face deeper into Clark’s chest. “I wanted t-to help. I-I was. S-s-So close to tr-transforming and fighting with y-you, but I didn’t. I d-didn’t, so I c-couldn’t bring them b-back. I should have been tr-transformed, th-that way they would be—“

“Shh,” Clark whispered gently, rocking her in his arms. “It’s not your fault. Metropolis wasn’t your city. You were protecting your identity, and that was the right choice.”

“But—!”

“No, Marinette,” Clark interrupted, holding her just a little tighter as she continued to tremble and sob. “If you had transformed, someone would have figured it out. A French class comes to Metropolis, and one of their students mysteriously disappears at the same time that a French hero shows up in America for the first time? Maybe you could have brought them back, but none of you would have been safe. Our villains, the villains of Metropolis, of the League, they would have suddenly known about you and might have researched Paris. Maybe HawkMoth would have gained a new ally, or maybe a villain would attack you just because you’re a new hero to target,” Clark sighed, rubbing his hand gently over Marinette’s back as her sobs quieted into a few hiccups and sniffles. She was listening. That was a good sign. “So yes, maybe you would have been able to save them that once, but you could also have opened up a new can of worms that you might not have been able to handle. Things could have gotten worse, and Jon and I wouldn’t have even known to help you. You would have continued to shoulder everything on your own, but you don’t have to. You did your best, and your parent’s deaths aren’t your fault. And you have Jon and I now, and your team even if they don’t know who you are. You can rely on us a little. If you keep going on like this, though, you’re going to kill yourself Marinette,” this time his grip tightened for a whole different reason and Clark buried his face in Marinette’s loose hair. Even after only almost three months, the thought of losing her made him breathless. She was his daughter, even if not by blood, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her hurting herself like this.

“Please, Mari,” That was Jon, who had knelt down by their side and joined the hug. “Let us help you. I promise we’re not incompetent heroes.”

Marinette’s laugh was watery, and hysteric. She accepted a tissue from Lois, who was suddenly sitting down only a foot away from the three’s group hug. After a good nose-blow, Marinette took a deep breath.

“Maybe now’s a good time to give them a proper explanation, Marinette,” Tikki said as she floated down to land on her wielder’s head, giving her the best hug she could. Marinette gave another wet chuckle.

“Yeah, I agree,” she took a deep breath. “But it’s a long story.”

“Not a problem,” Lois assured the girl as she forced herself up and stretched her arms out. “I’ll get the extra pillows and blankets. We can relax on the floor and have story time, and then binge watch movies and have a sleepover in the living room. Clark, could you be a dear and move the couch out of the way?”

—*—*—*—*—*

“You have a rule against killing, dear,” Lois whispered groggily from where she was laying against Clark’s side. Marinette was sprawled in between him and Jon, safely in their cuddle-cocoon. Both of their kids were deep asleep. Clark grunted.

“Yeah, but he put so much responsibility on kids, Lo. Kids,” he whispered back, turning his head to try and lessen the chance of waking up Jon. “And he didn’t offer them any support for almost a year, made them figure out the whole hero thing and their powers on their own,” the clearing of a tiny throat made Clark stifle a snort. “With their Kwami,” he whispered, quietly appeasing the eavesdropping Tikki who was laying on Marinette’s chest pretending to sleep. “But a god isn’t exactly a replacement for an actual hero mentor, you know,” he shot at her, making the tiny goddess shrug in acquiescence. “And making her Guardian— he basically threw all his responsibilities onto kids, and ran away. And now Marinette has to heal from all the unrealistic expectations she gave herself. So forgive me if I’m entertaining a few more violent daydreams than usual.”

Lois patted his arm and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure they will be just as violent and gratifying to imagine in the morning. Go to sleep, Smallville.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was another two and a half weeks before Marinette met Damian Wayne for the first time. She looked from the fellow teenager in a perfectly-pressed uniform and then over to her brother with a raised eyebrow.

“Does he fly in on a helicopter every day?” She asked him incredulously, making Jon grin and nod. She looked back over at Damian, who was clearly annoyed at her for speaking about him when he was right there. “I will never understand rich people.”

Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And I will never understand simpletons. Kent, who is your friend?” He practically spat the last word, making the inner bully-detector in Marinette go off. Her interactions with Chloe and Lila kicked in, and sparked her old habits. Marinette flashed a bright smile, stepping in front of Jon before he could say a word and holding out her hand to Damian. Clark, who was talking to Bruce nearby, out his hand over his mouth to hide a snort. Bruce raised his eyebrows, paying close attention to the interaction now.

“Hi! I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Clark and Lois took me in a few months ago, and they said I’m already family. That means that I’m Jon’s sister now, which means that it’s my job to keep him away from bad influences. My hobbies include annoying bullies and not being a welcome mat. How are you?”

Damian blinked once. Twice, and then took her hand and shook it firmly even as a smirk spread itself over his lips.

“Damian Wayne,” he replied easily. “And I apologize for assuming you were a simpleton. I think we can tolerate each other just fine.”

As Marinette and Damian kept trading sarcastic quips with one another that got steadily less passive-aggressive as time went on (with Jon watching in dismay as somehow Marinette seemed to get along? With Damian? And they were scheming? This couldn’t end well.), Clark and Bruce watched the kids walk into their school building.

A moment of silence stretched, before Bruce finally caved and asked; “Took her in?”

Clark grinned slightly, knowing Bruce never would have been able to resist sating his curiosity over the new girl in his care.

“Lois and I practically adopted her. Technically her paternal grandmother has custody and only gave her to us to take care of while she recovers from her grief in a different country, but that’s only because trying to adopt her without being French citizens would have been almost impossible.”

“Grief?” Bruce’s eyebrows pulled down, and Clark’s smile grew somber.

“Remember the attack in late May, back in Metropolis? The one that actually had the first fatalities in months?” Bruce’s face went slack in realization, followed closely by his eyes snapping to the school’s doors. Clark nodded. “Looks like your penchant for adopting black-haired, blue-eyed orphans is contagious. She was scraping the skin off her hands and giving herself burns trying to dig them out of the rubble. When Jon and I realized that they were both of her parents, I had Lois look into her to make sure she had family to take care of her,” Clark sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “The options were a grandmother who never stops traveling or a great uncle she barely knows who only speaks Mandarin when she doesn’t. So we pulled a few strings, and now she’s a Kent in all but name.”

“I hope Damian can avoid saying the wrong thing for at least a day before I talk to him later,” Bruce said with a sigh as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “At least she seems to have won his respect pretty quickly.”

Clark laughed. “Oh yeah, she tends to do that. No offense or anything Bruce, but I think it’s a good thing we were the ones that adopted her before you got the chance,” he turned and smiled at his old friend. “You wouldn’t be able to handle Marinette. She’s closer to a Super than a Bat.”

—*—*—*—*—*

@fantasiame @thestressmademedoit @amayakans @resignedcatservant @too0bsessedformyowngood @chocolatecatstheron

Part 3

This. Was. Supposed. To be. Fluffy. Damn it. But oh well, natural story progression calls for more hurt and comfort I guess? Maybe one part left in this story I think.

[lycorogue]

Thoughts about episode “Lie”

Okay. Here we are. This is back to the better writing I was talking about the other day. I love me parallel stories, so this was just *chef kiss* in that department. 

Before I delve into my thoughts on the episode itself, I want to take a step back and talk about my views of the non-love-square ships Lukanette and Adrigami. (Feel free to skip ahead; I have a header for when I start talking about this episode again)

Lukanette and Adrigami

For me, Marinette and Luka had romantic chemistry from the word go. As much of a Marichat shipper as I am, I knew that if anyone could make Marinette forget about Adrien, it wouldn’t have been Chat Noir. It would be Luka. Chat Noir would then come in at a close 3rd (a bit ironically) when it comes to Marinette’s heart. Meanwhile, Kagami slowly grew to have a crush on Adrien post-Riposte, and then charged forward knowing exactly who she wanted. On the flipside, though, I stand firm that there wasn’t really much romantic interest coming from Adrien. If anyone was going to make Adrien forget about Ladybug, it would be Marinette; not Kagami.

The episode “Frozer” - the one where Kagami makes her crush known for the first time, and Adrien first attempts dating her - practically gives us some foreshadowing of their entire relationship. Aside from clearly finding Kagami attractive (as showcased by the pink-bubbles-vision when Adrien first sees her sans-helmet in “Riposte”), he doesn’t seem to have any romantic inclination towards Kagami until after she cups his cheek and lets him know, in not so many words, that she likes him. Even so, it isn’t until Marinette basically gives the thumbs up that he should pursue this relationship does he give it a try. He’s still very uncomfortable around her, and only gets a bit more comfortable in “Animaestro”; probably because he’s seen his father around Kagami’s mom and just mimics that (as seen in “Backwarder”). Going back to “Frozer” though, Adrien spends most of his time with Kagami watching Marinette, and even abandons Kagami in favor of checking in on Marinette - something Luka could have easily done and probably doesn’t because he sees Adrien already on it and knows Marinette would prefer Adrien’s comfort. So Luka doesn’t push the issue. That whole ice rink interaction shows that, while Luka trumps Chat Noir as a potential alternative love interest for Marinette, Marinette still surpasses Kagami as a potential alternative love interest for Adrien. This, for me, is again hinted at in the episode Heart Hunter where, while enjoying himself seemingly equally with both girls, there’s just these little hints - complimenting Marinette more than Kagami, asking Marinette to choose the ice cream - that, at least subconsciously, Adrien is leaning a touch more towards Marinette over Kagami. His heart just isn’t all that into this relationship. This is again showcased in the New York special when Adrien (at least in the English dub; I haven’t watched it in other languages) asks Marinette to dance with him with an almost pleading tone in his voice. (To be fair, clearly Marinette isn’t thinking of Luka at all during that trip either...)

I think the final Foreshadowing nail in the Adrigami coffin is this dialogue from “Frozer”:

Kagami: “You still keep doing what other people want you to do.” Adrien: “No, I just want him to be happy.”

In the end, Adrien did the same thing with Kagami: he did what he thought would make her happy because he’s a people pleaser to his core.

Adrien of course found Kagami attractive and fun to hang out with. She was a fantastic companion, and I love their companionship so much. However, I feel like he dated her mostly because he knew he had to find some way of getting over Ladybug, and here’s this pretty girl who clearly has a thing for him, so why not???? Their parents were practically setting them up as a couple anyway, between the trip to the royal wedding and the movie premiere. Plus, this “approved” friend meant he could spend more time outside of his father’s house while genuinely enjoying the company. Win-win. He then did all the pseudo-dating stuff he’s clearly witnessed in media; kind of following a play-book as it were. 

However, he never did anything even remotely romantic or flirty towards Kagami that was on par with his romantic gestures and flirtations towards Ladybug (or even Marinette, for that matter). His love language is obvious after watching him with Ladybug, and he uses some of that same language (albeit subconsciously... probably...) while interacting with Marinette. Things like leaning in playfully (ending of “Troublemaker” and when asking Marinette for a macaron in “Despair Bear”), sharing a romantic picnic (“Glaciator”) even if it was just to cheer Marinette up, winking (the endless winking in too many episodes to list here), whispering in her ear (“Despair Bear” and one other that I can’t recall right now), Soft SmilesTM (“Chameleon”, pretty much all of the NY special, tons of season 3 episodes), confessing insecurities or secrets (“Gamer” and “Gorizilla”), or asking her to dance (“Despair Bear” and “NY Special”). I’m sure there’s tons more and each example has more episodes it’s showcased in, but you get the idea. Alternatively, Adrien just never used that same love language with Kagami. With her it all felt like calculated moves; it was expected of him to lean in for the kiss in “Heart Hunter” and “Miracle Queen”, or wipe away the smudge of ice cream by Kagami’s mouth, so he did it. Aside from his protectiveness and care for Kagami in “Onichan”, Adrien never really treated Kagami any different than his other friends.

Marinette, on the other hand, does show some of her love language towards Luka. She blushes around him and does that bashful little shoulder shrug. She makes excuses to touch his arms, hands, chest, or back. She literally leans on him. She has an interest in his interests and even goes above and beyond for gifts, such as the necklace (yay; Luka looks so good in a necklace!) and, unofficially, the contract with Bob Roth for Kitty Section. 

Granted, she doesn’t flirt with Luka like she does with Chat Noir, but, as someone who also used to flirt with my guy friends without truly realizing the romantic implications (I was a disaster as a teen, okay?), I don’t know if Marinette has truly realized how flirting is part of her love language. If she is anything like I was, flirting is more a fun past-time to see if you could get a rise out of someone in some sort of sextual-tension game of chicken or something. It’s not something you do with someone you have serious feelings for. 😝

Back to Kagami though. I want to stress that, while I didn’t see any romantic future for Adrigami, I do still very much like Kagami and appreciated the character development the writers gave her. I love her as one of Marinette’s potential friends and, as I mentioned, a companion for Adrien. I just never saw any romantic interest coming from Adrien towards Kagami. He never even truly seemed himself around her the way he is around Ladybug or Marinette. I don’t think he’s comfortable enough to not be Textbook BoyfriendTM around Kagami. He even mentions in this episode that him being a clown IS the real him and she calls bullshit (although @gale-gentlepenguin​ does have some nice commentary on how even that wasn’t exactly truthful and Kagami was right to call him out). Point being, Adrien loves to be nerdy and goofy and playful, and she just doesn’t get that????? A lot of what Adrien likes she seems to dismiss.

I’m sorry, Adrigami shippers. There could have been potential there as these two grew, but as it stood? I just didn’t see it.

The Episode “Lie”

Going back to my thoughts on “Lie” though with all of that above commentary for context. I just feel a bit cheated that Clearly-There’s-Mutual-Pining Lukanette gets ONE kiss lean-in for the whole “love rival” arc they’ve had set up for 1.5 seasons before the relationship implodes, but Clearly-Only-One-Has-Feelings-And-The-Other-Is-Just-Kinda-Going-Along-With-It-Because-Hey-He-Likes-Hanging-Out-With-Her-And-She’s-Cute-So-Why-Not Adrigami has THREE kiss lean-ins in THIS ONE EPISODE ALONE (not to mention the 2 from Heart Hunter/Miracle Queen)!? Like I said, I feel a bit robbed, but... well fed, Adrigami shippers, I guess...

Anyway, my heart hurts so much because yes, Kagami deserves someone who will take the time to be with her (just like how Luka deserves the same), but also, it’s not like Adrien WANTED to abandon her (much like Marinette not wanting to abandon Luka). These poor kids. All four of them. My heart breaks. 😢

I did feel a much stronger emotional gut-punch with this episode, which is surprising because a) we already saw a good 5-10 min of it in “Truth” so this episode was essentially shorter than the premiere, and b) I’m a much stronger Lukanette shipper than an Adrigami shipper (see above). So, bravo to the writers on this episode. I hate that this team broke so many hearts, but this is the caliber of writing I was hoping for. 

(I know Marinette is the Guardian, but can we agree to have more Adrien-centric stories, please? They’re just so good).

My final thoughts though: WHY ON EARTH DID THE WRITERS EVEN BOTHER WITH THE “LOVE SQUARE RIVALS” STORY LINE IF THEY WEREN’T GOING TO FOLLOW THROUGH!? ADRIGAMI AND LUKANETTE FINALLY GET TOGETHER AFTER 1.5 SEASONS ONLY FOR THE RELATIONSHIPS TO BE DOA BASICALLY THE NEXT EPISODE!? WHY!? TO RESET THE STATUS QUO THEY WORKED SO HARD TO SHAKE UP!? I already talked Friday about the lost story potential with Lukanette, but there’s also a lot Adrien could have learned from his relationship with Kagami. 

Adrien is still VERY vocal about his love, and, while he has learned a lot, matured a lot, and has eased up a lot, Adrien does still semi-burden Ladybug with his feelings; something Luka never did to Marinette. Adrien, possibly due to witnessing his parents - I have theories about the romance dynamic between Emilie and Gabriel - seems to have this view of love being okay even if unbalanced. Ladybug is far more powerful and crucial to the protection of Paris, but they are still partners and equals in their eyes. So maybe he feels the same about love; he may be more romantically devoted to her, but as long as Ladybug loves him even a little, it’s like they’re equals in romance... right???? So... yeah, a more balanced relationship with Kagami could have taught him how important a romantic balance is as well. Plus, if I am right in my assumption that he just kind of went along with the relationship because he thought it was expected, then he could have also learned something about being a people-pleaser. There was a lot of growth potential for both Marinette and Adrien in these non-love-square relationships, and it just feels squandered.

Also, as I mentioned with my review of “Truth”, I’m fearing that the writers are kind of railroading the Ladynoir ship. First, there’s Marinette realizing that she can’t have a boyfriend because he wouldn’t be safe, nor could she be truthful to him about why their time was so limited. The exception being Chat Noir, who can very much protect himself (except for when he’s shielding Ladybug, but she yelled at him for that in “Lie”), and she can be fully honest with him as long as it doesn’t involve their identities, and he very much knows and understands their time restrictions. In fact, he even goes so far as to state that ANY time with her is a gift he cherishes. He’s basically the perfect boyfriend for her in her situation; she just needs to be lonely enough to “realize” it. >3> On the Adrien side of things, Kagami tells him that she can’t trust someone who isn’t honest with her, but there’s Ladybug: fully understanding and completely trusts him even when she knows he’s lying. She also doesn’t fault him for their lack of time together and understands if he needs to run away without a moment’s notice. He’s already in love with her, but this whole situation just paints her even more as the perfect romantic partner for him. I get it, but I also hate it. I hate this feeling of this one corner of the love square being railroaded. It basically dismisses the other 3 corners as possibilities right alongside the Lukanette and Adrigami ships.

All that grumbling aside, I would like to give some applause to how the episode ended. I very much enjoyed that Kagami was like, “nope. You lied to me, and I can’t trust you, so we can’t be friends. I need time away from you. I’ll let you know if we’re ever okay again.” It shows the consequences of playing with someone’s emotions, even if under the best intentions. It also shows that it’s perfectly okay to cut out toxic relationships, even if the other person didn’t intend any harm. Well-intentioned people can still cause toxic relationships, and if you need to step away from them (as Kagami did), then you are completely valid in that decision. It’s an important lesson for kids to learn, I think. I’m just worried that Kagami brushing off even being Adrien’s friend (while justified) might mean not really seeing her in the show anymore, and that would be a shame. 😟 I do enjoy her as a character, and would love to see more of her growth. Plus, she is so limited in social interactions as-is, so I hope we see more Kagami and Marinette friendship growth.

I am also interested in how Adrien reacts to the knowledge that he can indeed ruin his friendships with people if they aren’t in the same emotional space. This is most likely what’s preventing Marinette from confessing: fear that Adrien will reject her so severely that he might not even want to be her friend anymore. So having Adrien now possibly have that fear as well has some interesting story potential (if the writers don’t drop the ball like they did with the Lukanette/Adrigami ships). Meanwhile, having a dejected Luka still offering friendship and support to Marinette - something clearly Adrien assumed would happen with Kagami; once a friend, always a friend - might give her the confidence to confess to Adrien, now trusting that they are good enough friends and he’s a kind enough person that they can still remain friends even if he doesn’t return her feelings.

There’s a lot of potential birthed from these opening episodes, but especially from “Lie” and I’m interested to see what the rest of the season is going to look like now.

Also... ARE WE SURE THAT LUCKY CHARM BRACELET IS ACTUALLY LUCKY!? IT’S BEEN THE HIDING SPOT FOR AN AKUMA TWICE NOW!

[cph-dreaming]

A Sander Season 5, what story would we want to be told?

Amidst petitions for a Moyo Season 5 (you go @hoptetofantasy and @lucidpantone) and after having watched that beautiful trailer for a Sander season by @theloseyourmindnb (and yes, that is some wonderful work as are so many gifs, videos, drawings, paintings and writings in this incredible fandom!!) I want to try and share some thoughts about it.

As we all know for now it is not going to happen until Julie Andem and NRK decides to go for it or gives some other production company the rights to do so. It is what it is. And still so many of the Skam fandoms keep asking for that Even season in their favourite remake. Of course we do. So many of us still here on tumblr and other social media outlets following that little Norwegian show with a budget not even a 100th of what a Netflix production costs these days to produce were not only touched by the story of Isak and his coming to terms with his sexuality in a setting of divorced parents, hardcore protestantism, and teenage troubles in general. What so many of us reacted so strongly about was the inclusion of that one tall blond character that not only became the love interest of Isak but from an outside perspective gave us viewers one of the first real and honest representations of a person living with an MI in a show. Wow! I for one cannot believe that it is only four years ago. At the same time it seems like yesterday.

When we were told that Skam France and Druck were going beyond the first four seasons of the original, the cries for an Even season in their respective fandoms went up. For different reasons though, as Elliot and David are two very separate characters. But no, we all had to accept that it wasn’t going to happen. In this our fabulous fandom we didn’t really want to accept that and kept on hoping that we would be able to get what we deserved (oh the joy of being a fan). Because Sander! Come on, forget all the other Evens out there, this bleached goof of a character with his art, his love for Bowie, his one liners taken to the extreme deserves a season of his own! And Willem DS could carry it, couldn’t he? Well, in my mind there is no doubt, I see him as a better actor than Henrik... (and now I am ducking from all the knives and swords and axes being thrown at me).

It is not going to happen.

Still I cannot keep asking myself what that season would entail. What would Sander’s shame be all about? I keep reading posts in this fandom about how sweet it would be to just witness Sander and Robbe be in love and that people would not want them to have drama and break up and whatnot if a Sander season came true. But imagine that. Just watching Sander and Robbe be in love. For ten weeks. With daily clips. Ok. To me that would be vomit inducing emotional porn of the worst kind. Like being forced to witness your best friend being in love. Sitting next to him. Watching him kiss. And kiss. For ten fucking weeks. No. Just no. And it would be a very bad way to use that money that a season would cost in production.

So what story then? In answering my own question I have to go back to that one thing that has always irked me in Skam Season 3, whatever version we are talking about. That love cures everything. While I am a romantic at heart I have always been so provoked by that sentiment we have been shown. Ok, in the original there are those words by Isak telling Even that he doesn’t know how the future will ever play out. In Skam France there is an extra scene that therapists have applauded of Elliot telling Lucas how it will be living with him in the future. In wtFock? Hmm... my own personal favourite of the remakes jumped from a cinematically perfect OHN to a short morning clip of “Always”, from “you’re my angel” to “life is now”. Sander’s depressive state was simply ‘cured’ by that beautiful boy with chocolate brown eyes. Hope and catharsis for all of us! But is that really the message we want to see, teenage show or not?

In the original script there is this horrendous scene where Even and Isak visit Even’s parents. Thankfully it was never included in the show. It was just another superficial attempt at giving his MI a pseudo psychological reason. And that is what I fear the most if anyone was given the chance to do an Even season. Tropes of trauma, past abuse, every attempt imaginable at trying to explain the inexplicable.

I have done some very stupid things in my life, to myself, but they are not the reason for me having an MI, they are a byproduct of my illness. I have dreamed so many years of being rescued by that beautiful prince in his white Tesla. Slowly but steadily coming to terms with what my MI actually means to the life I have to live, I realise that I will never be rescued. This is my lot in life. And there is no explanation for it. These are just the cards I have been dealt. Take it or leave it.

I don’t know how to show that in a season 5. But I would love for that story to be told. How Sander finally accepts his MI, even though it might mean heartache and breakup (oh, they have to get back together, Sobbe needs to be endgame, I also want hope!) To show how someone actually deals with living with an MI that is not curable, that cannot be rescued by falling in love. All the ups and downs. For ten weeks. I have no idea how it would have to be done. I just wish someone with a knowledge and with a brain was given the chance to do it. Until then I will have to rely on all of those extremely talented fanfic writers out there.

What are your thoughts? Holler at me!

[kalluun-patangaroa]

Suede

SKY magazine, December 1993

written by Simon Witter 

"HELLO! WHAT HAVE WE GOT HERE?!" asks Brett Anderson rhetorically, staring at the fluff he has just removed from his ear. "I haven't taken these earrings off for about nine years."

It may seem an incongruous moment to ask the 27-year-old indie pin-up about his personal style, but hey, that's the kind of guy I am. "Tatty," replies Brett with a wry smile. "I haven't been able to get out and go shopping."

Brett Anderson, frontman of Suede – the British pop sensation of 93 – is hotly rumoured to have a great dress sense. Today however, perched uncomfortably behind an executive desk at the central London HQ of his record company, his head inadvertently framed by a halo of Right Said Fred promotional balloons, he is sporting a navy blue jeans'n'top ensemble he accurately describes as "just anything". Brett has been telling me how he spends most of his time with people who work in shops or are unemployed – "real people, not in the business" – so I presume this boutique bonding provides a clue to his supposed, though temporarily non-evident, style savvy.

"Oh no," he gasps. "Not clothes shops! Most of my friends are in food shops. So I know a good bit of brie when I see it."

The thought of Brett Anderson having, at any point in his life, ever eaten food, conjures images of pigs flapping their trotters as they sail past this second floor window. But we press on with the personal style enquiry.

"I want to change it at the moment," he says. "I'm sick of wearing second-hand things. I used to have a grudge against new clothes because I don't like wearing things that another thousand people are wearing. It's nothing to do with being into clothes from years ago, or tatty clothes at all. I'm quite keen to toy around with my style until I eventually find something, to have clothes made for me. There's never anything, when I go out and look for clothes, that I really love. I've got quite a strong vision of what I want, which would be very, very well fitted things. I don't like baggy things. I like lots of ethnic looks. I really like the Spanish look, that sort of matador thing." By way of explanation, Brett strikes a pose, clicking imaginary castanets above his head. "I like that shape. Prince wears a really brilliant little thing sometimes. When I kept getting my bellybutton out, it was really a desire to achieve that shape more than anything, nothing to do with flaunting my navel."

It's well worth flashing your bellybutton while you still can, I assure him, a rueful hand on my own expanding waistline.

"Yep," he smiles. "Well I can't anymore. Not after that chinese last night."

In May of 1992 Suede released their first single, 'The Drowners'. They had already been on the cover of Melody Maker – before they had a record out – and would grace 18 other British magazine covers over the next year, including the cover of Q on just their second single. Their eponymous debut album, released last March, went straight to No. One in the charts and went on to win the Mercury Prize, and last autumn they released a full-length concert video Love & Poison. At this rate, it will be time for their memoirs by easter.

Within the bizarre, incestuous fishbowl of the British music media, Suede have become almost self-damagingly important. After a couple of wilderness years spent faffing about, finding their feet and being universally loathed, their overnight transformation into the most hyped band in the world was nothing short of miraculous. Yet it created impossibly high expectations of their music. A German friend told me how surprised he was, after long distance exposure to their media glare, to discover how average Suede sounded – a judgment that casual discovery of the first album would hardly have elicited. And while touring America, their support act the Cranberries famously outshone them by an enormous factor when it came to album sales. Yet phase one of Suede's career has been – or appeared to be – so extraordinary, that they are going to be hard-pressed to follow it up with anything similarly momentous.

For now, we have 'Stay Together', a new, epically long single. As a measure of Suede's magnitude in the reality-starved world of British indie pop, I am treated to an absurd preview of the track the day before meeting Brett. Before entering the listening room I am subjected to a bag search to check – I kid you not! – that I'm not carrying a concealed tape recorder.

In LA, the world capital of muso control freakism, I was played U2's Desire, the immediate-follow up to their 15-million selling Joshua Tree album, eons before its release without anyone thinking twice. Yet now, without a hint of humour or irony, I am being treated as if I not only know anyone who cares what the next Suede single sounds like, but would be willing to pay for a tape of it recorded through a leather bag.

After regaining consciousness, I join in the fiasco, insist on a full body search (well, at less reputable establishments you'd have to pay good money for this touchy-feely experience) and am seated. The label boss places two speakers on each side of my head, facing my ears from about 20" away, turns it up LOUD, and begins to do that embarrassing, pseudo appreciative in-chair grooving that only people who work in record companies and recording studios have the gall to indulge in. "It's not pompous," he assures me, "even though it's eight minutes long."

Of course any pop song – as opposed to dance record – that lasts eight minutes is by definition pompous. 'Bohemian Rhapsody' was gloriously, defiantly pompous with a side order of pomposity to go. But, despite the circumstances, 'Stay Together' sounds like a fine, many-hued song, liberally doused with Bernard Butler's life-saving guitar, that is destined neither to win many new fans nor shock the devotees.

"It's about a sense of unrest I feel about the world," Brett tells me the following day, in an ill-advised shot at an explanation. "An attempt to make some sense when everything seems to be going slightly insane. I do get a real sense of impending doom, but not in a depressing way, not like we're all gonna die, let's go and rape people. I feel quite content with it. We're living under some shadow, and I'm not quite sure what it is. It's a bit like the fears I felt when I was growing up, when things were unstable and there was the threat of nuclear war, or the fear that your parents could die of aerosol poisoning."

Brett grew up, together with Suede drummer Mat Osman, in the soulless satellite town of Haywards Heath, between London and Brighton. According to Osman, if they'd been the tea party fops people make them out to be, they would've formed a grunge band. They only wanted to be really glamorous because of their stultifyingly dull working class backgrounds. Some might say that that would lead to the three-Es-a-night, dance-and-forget syndrome, rather than the formation of a glam rock band.

"Hopefully we're not a glam rock band," Brett shudders defensively. "You can escape those surroundings by taking a load of Es and ignoring it. Another way is to create your own myth, to try and become romantic in your own eyes, to create something beautiful out of the rubbish and the shit. It all sounds very Oscar Wilde, but that's the way we did it. None of us were brought up in workhouses, but we haven't had easy lives at all."

Suede claim to be obsessed with fame because they were excluded from it. Yet surely fame is the one classless thing people aren't born into?

"Lots of people are constantly privileged," says Brett, who has clearly spent an unhealthy amount of time pondering the abstract qualities of fame. "If you're born in Soho to rich professional parents, and you've got Jonathan Wotsisname coming round to your house every night to see your father, then you've got this world that you slip easily into. When you're excluded from it there's a desperation, you're desperate to have it. It doesn't come as second nature to you, like professionally famous people who hang out in Beverly Hills. It's not something you're comfortable with, but that mutates it into something far more interesting, a bit prickly and far more creative, because you're not just sitting there lapping it up."

Suede's appearance coincided not unfortunately with the post-Madchester 70s revival. But was their styling something more than just the result of being unable to afford new clothes? Personally, I had thought the emergence of Gary Numan had killed off the idea of anyone ever again wanting to be David Bowie (not to mention Bowie's recent records). Then along came Suede, with their rough guitars, their androgyny and their theatrical singer.

"I never thought of ourselves as '70s," Brett insists. "David Bowie is a genius, but the rest of all that rubbish I always found laughable. As for the clothes, I always thought we looked more 60s than 70s. It's all tied up with this whole kitsch thing, this Magpie and Porridge and rediscovering the culture of British music journalists' youths. Kids of 14 didn't know what anyone was talking about, it was just that the people in power had reached a certain age where they were getting sentimental about their youth and started remembering Magpie. That's all it was, all a complete load of rubbish. As soon as we were aware that this scene was going on, we wanted nothing to do with it."

Brett's voice is a highly variable instrument, perfect and beautiful on slow numbers like 'The Next Life', but occasionally, when he affects that archly operatic Bowie yodel, a whiney, sneering sound like Rik Mayall on speed boring into your brain – absolutely maddening. It goes without saying that his delivery owes much to the most overrated British pop star of the last decade, Morrissey.

"I forced my voice in that way because of how we were born, musically, playing shitholes. It was the only way I could make myself heard. I didn't want to sing in the murmuring way that was the style of the time. I wanted to project my voice, because I was writing songs that I wanted people to hear the words of. I wasn't just writing about fluffy little clouds, which is what everyone was doing at the time. People read into my intonations a theatrical seventiesness, but it was a complete accident."

Overworked as the subject is, it's hard to avoid asking why Brett thinks his androgyny caused such a fuss. It's not the first time it has been done; it's not even the tenth time. Genderless, mincing fops are to classic British pop what hairspray is to American rock, a staple ingredient. Brett, by comparison to most, is pretty tame.

"I don't know," he sighs. "We certainly weren't thinking 'oh let's be androgynous', it's just the way we are. I'm naturally quite an effeminate person – not all the time, I do play on things. I think it was because, at the time, people were so incredibly boring. We had been through five years of the cult of non-personality, and we never wanted to go with the flow. When everyone had their heads down, chugging away, we wanted to twist things a little bit. It's like at school, when you find that something annoys someone, you keep on doing it more and more. And that's what happened really."

A female psychologist wrote recently about the overt sexual expression of pre-pubertal girls at pop concerts, the way in which, amidst the non-contact hysteria of the pop experience, they could sometimes experience their first orgasm. She was, admittedly, talking about a Take That show, but I can't help wondering if it looks like that from the stage to Brett Anderson?

"No, nothing like that," he purrs, "nothing sexual. I always feel like people are putting it on."

Having their first fake orgasm?

"It's a bizarre thing in my head. I know they really like me, but I can't really take it seriously. When I'm onstage, and it's working, I feel like I can do absolutely anything. I feel as though there's no limit, even in the sense that I could fall asleep if I felt like it, because I'm that relaxed. I feel much more comfortable on stage than walking down the street. I could go off into a corner and do a crossword or shave my head. I feel ridiculously relaxed. I really enjoy the power of being onstage. It's to do with the circuit of the flow between the audience and you, when it's an audience willing you to be good. Your own power is an expression of how the audience is feeling, but I can't say I ever feel sexual, even if it looks that way. I think that to call the power purely sexual is to belittle it. When I've been to incredible gigs, it hasn't been a sexual thing, it has been something far more magical than that. "

Brett and Osman came to London in the mid 80s to study, respectively, architecture and politics at UCL and LSE. Suede began after they placed an ad in the NME in 1989, but initial concerts had audiences shouting "Fuck off!", critics calling them effete wankers and record companies running for the hills - a three-pronged invitation to eat shit and die that would have spelt the end for most bands.

"That X factor that made people despise us," muses Brett, "was something we managed to turn around in our favour. It's like being in love with someone, and exactly the same things you adore about them, completely horrify you when you've fallen out of love. We went away and learnt how to write songs, and came back transformed. And those qualities that originally pissed people off, we transformed into something provocative. I think the fact that we went through all that rubbish was a fucking good thing for us. People forget that the Beatles spent five years in Hamburg. No one would touch them in England, cos everyone thought they were an utter load of shit. They spent five years getting it together, suffering a bit and fighting for it."

A typical lyric from those hard years was Brett's line about "shitting paracetomol on the escalator". When they were recently described as chemically saturated, I had assumed more interesting chemicals were involved.

"That's about pure mundanity, being off your face every night and your staple diet coming from your bathroom cabinet. It's a metaphor for a humdrum life, going up and down the London underground, which I spent five years of my life doing."

In many ways this – Suede's poignant soundtracking of new depression Britain – is their strength. But if they are Her Majesty's equivalent of slackers, it hasn't made America any more amenable to their cause. Indeed, despite Brett's avowed loathing of the British character – "negativity, small-mindedness, lack of faith" – there may well be a Britishness about Suede which prevents America from getting the point.

Brett makes the mistake of quoting a Smiths song to me – something about innocence, fragility and trust – forcing me to point out that American audiences don't want to be trusted with something precious, they want to rock out with their cocks out. Evan Dando may wear a dress and pigtails, but the wider American market is notoriously unkeen on sexual ambiguity. Queen were big in America until the early 80s, when Freddie Mercury started appearing in full clone gear. They never toured America again, and didn't have a single hit until after his death (and then only thanks to Wayne's World). In fact, America's association of guitars and manliness make Suede fundamentally unsuited.

"No!" storms Brett. "I don't think we're fundamentally unmanly. All you have to do is come and watch us live. We're about sexuality, power and emotion, things that everybody feels."

Whether or not America is destined to fall for his Morrissey-meets-Larry Grayson stage persona, Brett's much-aired desire to move to America (and less well-known plan to live in Paris) has, for now, been replaced by a much smaller act of bedouinism.

"I've moved from Notting Hill to Highgate," he announces proudly, "from a fashionable place to a place where you're living in the last century pretty much. I was living in a very small flat in Notting Hill and it was driving me insane, I couldn't write and was being bombarded with nonsense all day long. I needed the peace and quiet, and now I have a bigger flat with a studio room in it and I'm writing quite prolifically. It's more serene, there's more space to think. It's quite a beautiful place, but you do feel like you're living in the last century, like you're some sort of oddity, or in a play. You keep going into these odd characters. But it's a great place."

In person, and despite the affectation of much of his thought processes, Brett Anderson is quite charming. An endearing smile – which seems to hibernate when cameras are around – plays constantly around his face, suggesting shared confidences which, to some extent, he delivers. Like so many people cocooned by over-protective minions, he is refreshingly open and approachable. I like him. But he is deeply shocked and incredulous when I paint a picture of the special treatment afforded him by those he works with.

"They treat me with the respect I deserve," he jokes defensively. "I don't have tea with Lenny Kravitz. My best friend works in a chip shop, and that's why I like it, it's a complete escape. One of the beautiful things about being successful is that it can rub off onto your friends as well. Not fame and all that bullshit – the really brilliant thing about being successful is the self-confidence, the sense of life having a purpose, that life is a wonderful thing. You open the shutters in the morning and the sunshine pours through. That sense of vitality about life can completely rub off on your friends. Sometimes it doesn't, it can go the other way, with friends ignoring you cos they think you don't have time for them, but that never happens with your proper friends."

And yet, engulfed in the sweltering perversity of his peer group, Brett has come to hold some pretty crap views, views that seem utterly irrelevant beyond the borders of saddo indie land. He worries about being thought a sell-out, thinks Suede are radically honest because they admit to having ambition – as if people didn't get over all that bollocks a decade ago – and, worst of all, that people don't talk enough about music in interviews. Oh dear!

But, despite all this, Brett's public image remains unshatterably cool. He exudes waves of sultry, sulky hipness. I feel an urge to know what naff items lurk in the corners of Chateau Anderson, his ownership of which will shock Suede devotees to the core. Brett tells me he's been to see Aladdin, listens to jazz music, likes The Orb and Verve and has just bought the new Shamen single. To prove it, he even does his Mr C impression - "Comin' on like a vibe, y'know!". This won't do at all.

"I like Terence Trent D'Arby," he admits, trying harder. "I think he's really good."

It's good, but it's not right.

"I bought Billy Joel's River Of Dreams album. I like that one."

Aha – as Inspector Clouseau used to say – now we are getting somewhere! What about films?

"No, I've got impeccable taste when it comes to films."

No feature length On The Buses video stashed chez Brett?

"No. I have got Crocodile Dundee."

Bingo and Bullseye! So much for impeccable taste.

"Well, my perennial favourite is Performance," he flusters wildly. "I can virtually quote the whole film from start to finish. And there's a brilliant film which I've just discovered called The Shout, with John Hurt, Alan Bates and Susanna York. It's about a man who has spent years in the Australian bush learning the secrets of the bush doctors coming to this ridiculously reserved Cornish village and turning two people's lives upside down. It's like an animal alive within this village, and when he shouts, everyone within a mile radius dies. If Alan Bates' part had been played by Vincent Price, it would've been laughable, but it's incredibly powerful, one of those great lost films."

It's a nice try, but nothing can erase the impression created by Billy Joel and Crocodile Dundee.

[emsartwork]

Winx characters from Earth!!!!

Macy, Mitzi, Morgana in civvies with husband klaus, Morgana in fairy form, Nebula, Diana, Aurora, Sybila, and Eldora 

hcs and lore for my ridiculous version of winx below the cut

Macy- yes thats macy , yes she only appeared in one episode(but shes so cute i had to draw her), yes i made her a scene kid. Macy is pretty similar to her in show personality, shes a sweet heart, pretty quiet, and likes plants, she has a new hobby every month or so tho, and is into anime and shit lol (also half of her scene clothing might be hand-me-downs from Mitzi’s emo phase but shhhhh)

Mitzi- I didn’t want to make Mitzi the bombshell cheerleader type popular girl, so instead I went for self important, pseudo intellectual, hipster girl with a quirky fashion sense and “better than you” attitude. She’s a writer and is majoring in journalism. 

Civilian Morgana and Klaus- After Morgana steps down from her queendom, she and Klaus manage the Fruity Smoothie Bar together and are looking to expand to a second location sometime soon. Morgana doesn’t really use her powers very often(partially she can’t), but will do little magic light shows for Klaus because he loves them. They are still horribly in love and have a date night every chance they get and Roxy has an instagram devoted to every sickeningly sweet and gushy line or smooch her parents share in front of her. 

Queen Morgana- So basically most magic user/magical creature were imprisoned in Tir Nan Og just before the dark ages (300 CE or so) the wizards of the black circle had a couple issues with some of them escaping and re-enforced the barrier after the renaissance so that nothing could get in or out if it have even a smidge of magic. (the winx were able to get in since the barrier started to deteriorate after time) Morgana, in a last ditch effort attempted to force her way through the barrier(her magic would be ripped out of her in the process) her three generals and Sibylla (sibylla is a judge more than a general) didn’t want her to be with out protection so they put their most powerful spells inside four glass marbles, which were then encased in an iron locket Morgana wore. 

Her generals, and the rest of the magic users in Tir Nan Og focused on the weakest part of the barrier and Morgana forged her way through, she had to use Diana’s gift to grow a plant boat for her to get to mainland europe. Morgana started to experience slight losses in memory as a result of going through the barrier(which erases all magic, including the memory of it), and started keeping a journal so she wouldn’t forget her purpose. She spent a couple years wandering the earth with out any direction trying to find any magic users who had escaped the wizards, but didn’t have much luck. She knew the more magic she kept around her, the more of her memories she would keep but She used Aurora’s gift to make a compass that would point her in the direction of fairy magic which after a couple MORE years of nothing, leads her to baby bloom, who had the faintest trace of fairy magic on her. but like. you can’t really recruit a baby to fight a war. 

Morgana has about half her memories now and sticks around in Gardenia with a vague sense she should be doing something important. She uses Sibylla’s gift to try and cast a memory spell and put her mind in order, but it only helps a little, she remembers she had magic, that she left her friends, and that the locket she’s wearing is important, but not much more. This is about the time Morgana meets Klaus, and as she forms an attachment her memory slides away even faster until the only thing she remembers even slightly related to magic is that her locket is important and must never leave her. 

After Roxy is born with semi-intact magic (the wizards can’t really detect it, but it needs to be kick-started because of the lack of environmental magic that’s important to a fairy’s development) Morgana opens her locket to put a lock of roxy’s hair inside the locket which reacts with Nebula’s gift creating a spark of a memory in Morgana and she just KNOWS she has to get back to whoever gave her this locket. She, roxy and klaus find their way to Tir Nan Og, where the barrier has deteriorated enough that some magic is leaking through, allowing Morgana to realize she won’t be able to come back out after she goes in. She uses Nebula’s gift to bring peace to Klaus and Roxy’s memories, effectively erasing herself from them, and returns to her kingdom, much to the relief of her people.

NOTE-  All of the earth fairies here are in a transformation called Danix (named after the creator Dana), its generally Earth specific, but could be attained on other planets. Fairies who have earned their enchantix will bind their powers to a source of magic on earth (such as the sacred bud in the amazon, the north or south poles, Tir Nan Og, the source of the Nile river etc.) this can be a very dangerous and time consuming process, which is why any fairy that achieves it is automatically part of the royal court. This transformation gives the fairy additional powers, and increases durability and magical stamina. however if their source dies or is injured the fairy suffers the consequence as well. 

Nebula- Nebula has bound her magic to the source of magic found in Trondheim, Norway, which is generally considered the war source, its powers cover strength, metal, and physical magics. She is also bound to the source of peace in Lake Itasca in the USA, which covers prosperity, fertility, and emotion magic. She is one of the only fairies to have more than one power source. She initially was only going to be the major fairy of war, but Morgana could see that ending badly considering Nebula’s aggressive and hot headed nature and encouraged her to pursue the peace source as well. 

Diana- She’s bound to the sacred bud which is the source of all of earth’s wild magic. It’s located some where in the Amazon Basin but since it’s the source of wild magic the bud tends to change locations. Diana has the basic nature powers of plants and the like, but also holds power over animals and water. She’s fairly antisocial, preferring to live with her source than in Tir Nan Og. She is also very impulsive, and often jumps before looking.  

Aurora- Aurora undertook one of the more dangerous bindings of the north pole, which is the source of ice, wind, and light magics. She lost her fingers and toes to frostbite during the binding. Aurora is very cold and pragmatic, offering a counter balance to both nebula and Diana. 

Sibylla- Sibylla is bound to the source in the sibillini mountains, specifically to one large tree, its the source of order, justice, and binding magic. Sibylla was born blind, and tho not even sure if she could hear her eyes, has chosen not to use her healing powers in order to make sure she doesn’t fall prey to visual biases. 

Eldora- She’s technically bound to the source in Alexandria(source of mind, information, and paper related magics) and is the major fairy of learning. She was one of the major fairies who weren’t trapped in Tir Nan Og. She and the other fairies mounted rescue attempts, but as they started to be picked off, decided to lay low. Eldora was actually part of the 7 fairies who fought Acheron. During Acheron’s height of power, he used one of the items trapped in his book to curse Eldora. The Red Shoes are very dangerous, feel like hot coals, will literally dance you to death, and you can’t really take them off. Eldora survived by amputating her legs below the knee, faked her death, and went into hiding, believing all of the other fairies to be either dead or trapped. She lost access to her powers after creating and losing her Mythix wand, but regained them after getting the wand back. She usually prefers a wheel chair, but her fairy form substitutes prosthetics.  

[alecmagnuslwb]

New Year’s Eve: Chapter Four

Read it all on AO3 or previous ch. 1, 2, 3

One magical night, five intertwining love stories, all culminating at midnight with just maybe some confessions and kisses as the clock strikes.

This chapter: The next two chapters very much go hand in hand, this time we find Maia, who’s very much in love with girlfriend Clary and very much thinking about marrying her in the very near future, helping her spiraling boss Maryse track down the man who’s quite possibly the great love of her life. Problem is she let him slip away without even learning his name last New Year’s Eve.

***

4 P.M., New Year’s Eve

Maryse Trueblood is not a woman to live with regret. She’s sacrificed a lot in her life to get where she is, she’s done it for this publishing company she proudly heads into the future, for her children and for herself. Every mistake has been a learning experience, every misstep a trial to overcome and give her extra strength to push forward. She doesn’t regret. Hell, she doesn’t even regret the years she wasted on Robert, because those lead to this company and her four beautiful, successful children.

She’s felt regret twice, last New Year’s Day and right now, in this moment with four passes to a New Year’s Eve party that a messenger just dropped off. Because it’s four passes she doesn’t know what to do with, two of her children will be there working more than partying, the other two are somewhat hesitantly spending the holiday with their father and that leaves Maryse all alone. And she can’t help but think if she’d just given her name and number to the handsome possible man of her dreams she met last year she’d have someone to spend the evening with.

She has friends, even after the divorce and some of them choosing to follow Robert’s money instead of her, but most of them have children and partners of their own to spend the evening with. It feels a lot like last year except with no work to occupy her for most of the night she’s so much more poignantly aware of it just being her.

She paces the floor of her office in a bit of a hurried panic thinking about the prior New Year’s Eve. The divorce had finally after almost four damn years of heated court battles gone through and she’d worked herself to the bone to ignore the New Year ready to put the messy divorce and the baggage with it firmly behind her. She’d ended up in a random diner after strolling around the city and then quite literally stumbled into a tall handsome man with the widest smile she’d ever seen.

They’d talked quiet and honest for hours about silly things, but also about their kids, the stranger being a single parent as well, but for much longer than she had, before Max had called asking Maryse to come get him from his dads after a major argument broke out. She’d rushed away leaving the handsome stranger who she’d had an inexplicable connection to behind without so much as her name, let alone a way to contact her.

She hadn’t regretted the choice all year, even if she found her mind wander occasionally to warm brown eyes and an unfairly attractive trimmed beard. It hadn’t just been a rush of forgetfulness in some ways not telling the stranger how to find her had been purposeful.

While she and Robert hadn’t been together for years, and the divorce had just been a final seal on a thing that had been no more than an image of happiness for the public eye for damn near a decade, she still inexplicably felt like it was too soon. Robert may have moved on before the word divorce was even thrown into the ring, but Maryse wasn’t ready, or she convinced herself she wasn’t, convinced herself that she had to think about Max first, about the idea of introducing a new man into his life first, he may be nearly eighteen, but he’s still her baby and always her priority.

Of course all that slipped away the next morning when she’d casually mentioned the idea of her dating and her youngest had simply shrugged, “Dad’s a dick, you deserve someone who makes you happy.” He’d said it so easy, with a rare kiss to her cheek and Maryse felt that first twinge of regret, realizing that she may have left the someone who could make her happy alone in a diner with no way of finding her.

And now she’s feeling it again. Her pacing increases her mind racing with ways that she might be able to track down her mystery man, she only knows bare facts, she’s not nearly as technically savvy as she should be and frankly describing him would probably get her nowhere and just make her sound like a lovesick teenager. She’s so in her head she doesn’t even hear her office door open her assistant popping her head in and freezing on the spot when she notices Maryse’s state.

***

Maia packs the last of her things into her backpack ready to head out for the evening. She’s already changed into her glittery dress and dark red tights for the evening’s semi-formal couch surfing plans. She sends a quick text to her girlfriend, Clary, letting her know that she’s about to head out. It’s their second New Year’s together, this time around spending it with Clary’s lovely, welcoming father and Maia can’t help but hope for a lifetime full of New Year’s Eve’s with the gorgeous redhead. Forever and Clary are two words she’s very, very recently been stringing together and she can’t say any part of it sounds bad, a lifetime with Clary Garroway sounds like a dream come true.

She lets out a no doubt dreamy sigh at the thought, smiling brightly as Clary’s response comes through with just a string of varying colored hearts intermingled with x’s and o’s. Her girlfriend is just the cutest person in the world.

She lifts her bag heading to her boss’s glass door the blinds shut. She knocks quietly earning no response, but figuring it’s safe to head in anyways. Despite her formidable appearance, Maryse Trueblood, formerly Lightwood, is actually an incredibly kind woman to work for, she has a fierce, terrifying side, but it’s only saved for those who would question her authority, particularly since she left her husband and took full control of Lightwood Publishing. She’s easily the best boss Maia’s ever had; she likes her so much she didn’t even mind coming in today for a few hours.

She pokes her head in and freezes when she sees Maryse pacing the floor at a concerningly rapid pace. Maryse is a lot of things frazzled which is how she looks now, is not one of those things.

“Maryse,” she says calmly which stops Maryse’s pacing abruptly. She swivels to face Maia as she enters the office fully, shutting the door behind her. “Are you alright?”

Maryse shakes her head way too quickly, “Of course,” she says putting on an epically fake smile. It’s the one Maia’s seen her sport many a times in meetings with ignorant authors or overpaid agents with egos. “You should head out, wouldn’t want to steal anymore of your holiday.”

Maia knows she should go, should take the opportunity to head out, but she looks at Maryse and just can’t leave the woman whose kind of become a pseudo mother figure alone in this state that she’s poorly attempting to conceal.

“You know, whatever it is that’s bothering you,” Maia starts off.

“Nothing’s bothering me,” Maryse interjects, but Maia keeps going. Most bosses would find it insolent, but Maryse has always appreciated and found Maia’s bluntness refreshing telling her often it reminds her of her own children.

“I’m sure I can fix it,” she continues on. “You didn’t get me that world’s best assistant mug for nothing.” She adds on cheekily thinking of the brightly colored mug in the shades of the bi pride flag sitting on her desk that Maryse had gotten her for Christmas last year, she’d also given Maia a $5,000 dollar bonus, but somehow the mug had meant so much more. It was an acceptance and appreciation of her.

Maryse smiles at that, a real smile.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, world’s best assistant,” she says warmly.

Maia just shrugs, “I’m gonna worry about you whether I stay and you tell me or I go. No one should be left alone pacing in their office on New Year’s Eve without at least a chance to vent.”

Maia’s stubborn too, another thing her boss has always seemed to appreciate.

And then at that it’s like the dam breaks. Maryse lets out a fond, annoyed huff and then she’s spilling it all out in a ramble, which is a thing Maia’s never heard Maryse do. She’s telling her about a mystery man who could just be her ideal match she’d met last year that she’d never told anyone about, about the regret she’s feeling and how it’s all just sort of hit her in the last twenty minutes since she received passes to one of the hottest parties in the world.

Eventually she runs out of steam and Maia finds herself asking the dumbest question she could out of all the things she just heard.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you even get passes to the Edom Records New Year’s party?” Maia asks and sort of wants to put the words back in her mouth immediately.

“My almost son-in-law or future son-in-law if he and my son who’s actually catering the event never manage to get their head’s out their asses sent them to me,” Maryse says with a genuine smile seeming to not mind, before divulging back into her pacing. “My daughter is actually performing backup tonight as well.” She adds as forethought like she suddenly remembers the fact as her pacing picks up speed.

For a moment Maia considers going, forcing her boss to the party to see her children and just heading out to the evening she’s been looking forward to, but something in her makes her want to stay. Whether it’s a loyalty to Maryse and or the romantic inside of her that has her saying her next words she’s not sure, but she knows she won’t regret them.

“Maybe I can help you track him down tonight,” she says and Maryse stops pacing again.

“Oh no,” she says stepping to Maia placing her hands on her shoulders in a warm motherly gesture. “I don’t want to ruin your evening on some wild goose chase. There’s no way we’d ever find him, but thank you.”

“I’m a millennial with way too much social media knowledge, you could know he likes turtles and has eyes and there’s a chance I could track him down,” she says with confidence which makes Maryse laugh. “And if all else fails we go over to that diner and maybe he’s there waiting for you to show up.”

Maryse looks skeptical which Maia finds insane. There’s no way Maryse didn’t leave an impact as strongly on her mystery man as he left on her. She’s a gorgeous, well-dressed force of nature with an unexpected wit and softness to her, she bets the guys been pining all year long.

“I don’t know, you’re off the clock and your girlfriend is waiting I can’t ask that of you,” Maryse says dropping her arms.

“You’re not asking,” Maia says standing her ground, refusing to back down on this. “I’m offering, off the clock.”

Maryse lets out a breath eyeing Maia in a stare down that she refuses to break. Eventually Maryse cracks and Maia feels a tiny burst of pride that she’s won this one.

“Fine,” she says as Maia happily claps her hands together dropping her backpack to the floor and already moving to the door to head to her desk and log on to every social media platform she knows. “But,” Maryse says as she follows behind her. “You get these tickets as a payment, take your girlfriend to a free fancy party.”

“I don’t need you to pay me for this,” Maia says as she logs back on to her computer.

Maryse rolls her eyes leaning against Maia’s desk, “Then consider it a thank you and not a payment.”

Maia concedes, knowing that while she won the first battle, Maryse will always win the war especially if Maia tries to turn down those tickets.

“Okay, but you’re keeping one for yourself, just in case.”

Maryse rolls her eyes again but accepts the compromise as Maia begins rattling off a list of questions about Maryse’s mystery man intent to find him somewhere out there. She texts Clary telling her she has some emergency work that might keep her longer than originally planned, assuring that she’ll be there to kiss her at midnight guaranteed.

***

Maryse watches with fondness and a little bit of awe in the way Maia understands how to manage every social media platform so well as she lists off question after question about any tidbit Maryse can provide her with about the man she met that night.

She sends the last straggling messenger in the building to an address Maia gives her with two of the tickets for her girlfriend and girlfriend’s father. She smiles as Maia reads a message on her phone likely from her girlfriend with a lovesick smile on her lips. Oh, to be young and in love. She hopes for Maia’s sake that this young love is a lasting one. She can see how happy Maia’s been in the past year and some change since she met Clary.

She’s grown quite fond of her assistant of three years, has come to think of her as another child in a lot of ways especially since she learned of Maia’s strained relationships with her own parents. She wants only good things for her, and that’s a growing feeling as she watches Maia delay her plans just to try and help Maryse even a little bit.

She answers Maia’s questions easily as her fingers fly over the keyboard logging in to social media sites Maryse has never even heard of. While she hadn’t meant to spill her guts out in a rush to her assistant she finds it nice to finally talk about the encounter and the man who’s not strayed far from her thoughts all year. The inexplicable connection that formed so quickly and the way he seemed just as stunned by how easily they’d connected.

She tells Maia everything she can recall, from his little life tidbits like his profession in the NYPD, which she doesn’t know exactly the nature of, to his appearance:

“Tall, African American with a gorgeous smile and great arms,” she says making Maia waggle her eyebrows.

She even tosses in little things she noticed, quirks and silly things they discussed that didn’t matter, but make up a person as a whole.

“He takes his coffee black, said he loves horror movies with clowns and judging from the four slices he ate in our brief time together I’d say key lime pie is his favorite,” she says and this time Maia gives her a fond, sappy look that has Maryse turning her head with a blush.

Maia scours the internet for almost three hours finding a plethora of men who match some of the aspects, but narrowing it down to a little over half a dozen who hold a few more than the others. Eventually Facebook leads her to three men who match right down to very specific posts about their love for key lime pie, but none of their images match the mystery man Maryse knows or wants to know even better.

Maia let’s out a sigh glancing at the clock in the corner of her screen. Maryse is about to tell her it’s a lost cause, tell her to just go to the party and have a nice night, but Maia has other ideas suddenly standing up from her chair, phone in hand.

“What’d you say the name of the diner was?”

“Rey’s, with an e instead of an a,” Maryse says. “Why?”

“Well,” she starts typing away on her phone likely looking for an address. “It’s nearly nine, and even with the holiday traffic we can probably make it across town by ten or so which is roughly around the time you met last year, so hopefully he’s smittenly waiting around since he’s clearly not spending his time on the internet.”

“Maia,” Maryse starts ready to oppose.

“We’re going,” Maia says as she throws on her coat with a pointed look that reminds Maryse so much of the ones her own children have been throwing in her direction for years when they won’t let something go.

And just like she does so often with her children. Maryse relents.

“If all else fails you’re coming to the party with me, Clary’s dad is an attractive, single dude and I’m sure he’d live up to your mister mystery man,” Maia muses as she grabs her wallet and keys from the desk leaving her backpack behind and pulling Maryse’s coat down from the rack by the door.

She stands behind her practically forcing the coat on, which if Maia were almost anyone else Maryse would be deeply annoyed by the action, before linking their arms together and pulling Maryse out the door and into the chilly cheerful night atmosphere with a smile filled with hope. It gives Maryse hope that maybe, just maybe Maia’s right and her mystery man will be there waiting.

***

When Maia’s phone tells them they have arrived at their destination Maryse’s heart drops into her stomach. Because right there where a small, slightly tacky diner sat just one year ago is an empty sectioned off lot.

The diner is gone and with it her mystery man.

Maia twirls around, mumbling to herself that this can’t be right. That they must have gotten the address wrong or Maryse misremembered the name of the diner.

Maryse reaches out stopping Maia’s twirling and angry typing into her GPS.

“No, this is it,” she says, the words coming out sadder than she had intended. She recalls the little bookstore next door and the bakery with the bright pink awning across the street. It’s all still here, just like it was last year. Everything except the diner.

“What kind of business doesn’t put up a notice online that they’re no longer open,” Maia says frustratedly gesturing wildly at the empty space. “Or that they’re no longer even a building!” she yells actually catching the attention of a few passerby’s that she simply waves off with a growl.  

“Probably the kind that were never very good at that sort of thing in the first place which lead them to going out of business,” Maryse says with a sad smile. She stands there dejectedly looking at the rubble that’s left behind and all that hope that Maia’s bright smile had given just slips away.

***

As Maryse dejectedly sighs at the remnants of the building Maia looks around, just hoping to spot some handsome mystery man waiting around that vaguely fits Maryse’s description, but there’s just the bustle of New Year’s partiers, no stillness, no romantic reunions on the horizon. She does however spot a flash of red hair at a distance that for a brief moment she thinks might be Clary but shoves away the possibility as she feels Maryse move beside. Her attention switches to her boss as she moves to sit down on the curb, head hung low.

She settles beside her on the curb, people shuffling around them and just barely bypassing where they sit. They sit there quietly for a while, nearly an hour, Maia uncertain of what to say.

“Here,” Maryse says eventually reaching into her inside jacket pocket. She pulls out the two remaining party passes and holds them out for Maia to take. “You should go, have fun with your girl, don’t waste your whole night away.”

Maia shakes her head pushing Maryse’s hand with the passes down gently, “I can’t just leave you out here. What if he shows up here looking for you too?”

Maryse smiles at her kindly, “I don’t think so.”

“I mean you said the connection felt mutual so maybe,” Maia starts unwilling to let Maryse just give up like this. She’s never been a big romantic in the past, but Clary has made her one and listening to the way Maryse talked about her mystery man she can’t just let her quit now.

“It’s okay,” Maryse says reaching out a hand to hold Maia’s cheek gently in a tender motherly way. “If fate wants me to find him again then I’ll find him, just not tonight. So, go have fun, dance the rest of your night away and kiss your girlfriend at midnight. Don’t sit on a dirty sidewalk with your boss.”

Her hand drops holding out the two passes again, this time Maia takes them.

“Fine, but you’re coming with me,” Maia says still stubbornly refusing to leave her boss behind. Maryse is quick to shake her head, but Maia persists. “There’s two here passes, plenty for you to come along. Just because you didn’t find Mr. Right tonight doesn’t mean you have to spend New Year’s Eve on a dirty sidewalk alone.”

Maryse smiles at her softly standing up from the curb dusting off the back of her dress before holding out a hand to help Maia up.

“Let’s go then, we already missed a no doubt incredible dinner done by my son,” she says as Maia takes her hand rising from the curb to join her. “Let’s not miss the free drinks too.”

Maia smiles, still feeling a little sad for Maryse, but happy she’s agreed to at least try and have some fun with what remains of the night. As she once again links her arm with Maryse’s she hopes against everything that Maryse is right, that fate can play a hand one day and she’ll find her mystery man even if it isn’t tonight.

***

The walk across town to the Edom records party is quiet. Maia is clearly giving her the space to talk if she wants but letting a comfortable silence wash over them if she doesn’t. She’s grateful for the gesture, it allows her mind to clear and to let the disappointment slide and instead grant her the serenity to feel content. To know that even if she didn’t find the man she’d shared a connection with last year, she’s ready to share a connection like that with someone again. And tonight she can just look forward to the New Year and its new possibilities. Take a bit of her daughters’ beautiful optimism about the holiday to heart.

It’s a long walk to the party, Maryse grateful for her comfortable shoes, but once they arrive they easily slip inside from the south entrance. It’s nearly eleven already, most of the night gone and done, a thing she hopes Maia doesn’t mind.

They enter the main hall through a side door avoiding a dessert delivery that the bouncer tells them might get in their way and Magnus is just closing out one last slow song. A song Maryse has heard a time or two and known exactly who it’s about. The music ends just as a waiter passes them with a tray of champagne that Maia immediately plucks two glasses from handing one to Maryse.

She tosses it back looking across the room and spotting her son bolting out of the door, a few moments pass and suddenly Magnus appears pushing his way through the crowd to seemingly chase after him, gaining everyone’s attention the way he always does. It’s always been one of her favorite things about Magnus, how all eyes are on him but in the time she’s known him his eyes were ever only on Alec.

She smiles hoping they work things out finally. The night may have not gone her way for romance, but she hopes it goes there’s. Maia also scans the room not watching the scene Maryse is, eventually tossing back her champagne as some DJ starts up a round of dance music to fill the space and she lights up with a smile as she points to a redhead in a pale pink dress on the dance floor.

“There’s my girl,” she says fondly. “Come on, let’s dance.” Maia grabs Maryse by the hand pulling her forward before she can protest. They near closer to Clary when she reaches out to someone, she pulls a man towards her his back now covering their view of the redhead.

The man spins her, a laugh that’s deep and rumbling carrying out over the music as they get close enough to hear.

“It’s just like when you were little, still a shrimp,” the man says and Maryse freezes. The voice so achingly familiar that she convinces herself it’s her mind playing tricks on her.

Maia raises an eyebrow turning to look at her when she stops dead in her tracks no doubt about to make some remark about not wanting to dance when the man and Clary turn so he’s facing their way. Then it’s his turn to freeze.

“It’s you,” he says and Maryse widens her eyes in disbelief. The familiarity of his voice not a trick of the mind as the face she’s been imagining for a year stands right before her.

“And it’s you,” she replies unsure of what to say. Maia is looking between them wide eyed seemingly having an internal freak out about this turn of events. What a small world it is that Maryse’s mystery man is she assumes Clary’s dad.

Maia’s likely berating herself for not putting together the pieces. It’s a thing Maryse will have to reassure her about later, but right now she needs to do something she hadn’t done a year ago.

She tosses back her glass of champagne sitting the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, the action makes the man chuckle that deep rumbling laugh again. She steps forward letting go of Maia as he does the same to Clary.

“I’m Maryse,” she says holding out a hand that he immediately takes in a soft, but firm hold. “Maryse Trueblood.”

He smiles, that big bright smile she remembers so clearly.

“Luke Garroway.”

***

Maia watches speechless and wide eyed as Maryse and Luke’s eyes meet. It takes her moment, but suddenly the penny drops.

Luke is Maryse’s mystery man. Maia frankly has never felt stupider. The signs and connections all seeming so clear as she watches Maryse hold out a hand and finally introduce herself. She shuffles to stand next to Clary both too transfixed and stunned by the picture before them to even greet one another.

Maryse’s mystery man worked for the NYPD, up until February of this year Luke had been a detective on the force. His description was apt, a picture of Luke should have come to mind as Maryse described her mystery man. The single parent thing, the daughter he adores, even the way he takes his coffee all those facts together without the pressure of social media mining to find an unknown man paint the image of the man she hopes to call her father-in-law someday soon. The key lime pie thing is the only part that doesn’t add up, Luke’s always been a cookie over all dessert’s kind of man, so she doesn’t know where that came from.

Of course it all makes sense now why they had no hits on the social media front, Luke notoriously hates all forms of the internet that dig into someone’s personal life.

“Um, what’s happening?” Clary says pulling Maia out of her thoughts.

“I believe your dad is my boss’s mystery dream man she met last New Year’s Eve,” Maia replies watching as Maryse and Luke shyly speak.

“The diner dame?” Clary exclaims turning to look at Maia who raises an eyebrow in question. “That’s what I’ve been calling her since dad told me about her.” Maia snickers. “It seemed cool at the time, whatever. He swore me to secrecy about it even though he’s been pining all year. I even made him swing by the diner earlier and we saw it was torn down.”

Maia hums, realizing that flash of red hair she spotted may not have been Clary, but Clary had been to the rubble that was Rey’s earlier.

“I wasn’t technically working, I just wanted to save Maryse the embarrassment if tonight didn’t work out. I was trying to help her find her mystery man,” Maia explains. “Which in hindsight probably should have been a lot easier than the research and literal across town searching we’ve been doing all evening.”

“What a small world,” Clary muses as she turns briefly back to them with a soft smile. Her dad’s happiness has always been such a priority for her. Maia hums in agreement pulling Clary’s hand and tilting her head indicating they leave the reunited pair to it.

Clary smiles stepping a few paces away and leaning into Maia to wrap her arms around her neck, Maia’s automatically landing on Clary’s waist.

“I didn’t realize you were such a romantic, helping your boss find true love,” Clary singsongs with a cheeky smile.

Maia rolls her eyes, “It’s entirely your fault. You made me this way.”

Clary snorts her nose scrunching up in that cute way it does sometimes and that Maia is impossibly in love with before leaning in to place a quick sweet kiss on Maia’s lips.

Maia tips their foreheads together sparing a quick glance to the side where Maryse and Luke have moved their way over to a vacant table both grinning from ear to ear. She moves her eyes back to Clary swaying to the music now playing not really dancing in time with it, but enjoying every second of it all the same. She’s so content and happy to have inadvertently helped her boss find her mystery man and warm in the arms of the woman she loves.

[wagnerarts]

2sc0ramb1ed6

Living alone while my family was in California was exactly what you’d think it’d be these four days on fall break. With no alarms set, I still woke up at 8, heart racing from the thought of classes I was sleeping through. Waking up hours later felt lazy.

Finally making my way to the kitchen after 12 PM was conflicting. I’d open the fridge and see leftover quinoa; laugh at the lengths my family went to be healthy. Look to my right and spot the half drank Chardonnay and joke to myself that I was technically allowed to drink it. Technically.

I grabbed the hummus and wine quickly and shoved the fridge door closed with my hip.

X

I now sit on the lawn chair on my family’s balcony, overlooking the pseudo suburban street in the privileged part of the city.

Cigarette half smoked, remote silence. The whir of nearby bicycle wheels start, and the noise triggers me and I’m aware. Once I realize its innocence, I suck in another drag and close my eyes.

It’s nothing.

A flashback to smoking a bowl out my bedroom window four years prior floats back. I’d moved my bed to rest against it in hopes smoking closer to it would smell less.

“Are you smoking pot?” My mother asked, standing in her light pink robe, clutching the doorknob and keeping the door half mast in hopes she was wrong.

“This dude was walking his dog past the house and I swear he had a joint, I swear, Mom,” I started.

“Just... Just stop,” she said as she closed the door.

I paused, my bowl hiding under the comforter. After a few minutes passed, I brought it back out and outstretched my hand past the screenless window and into the summer night to light another bowl.

X

The years all melt together. You tell me nowadays you didn’t know what to make of me when we met in 2010.

“You were so young and so forward. I knew you were in love with me and I didn’t care,” you say. But you care now.

We laugh about how backwards we were. Our first date was my first date, too, at our town’s Thai restaurant at the end of your senior year of high school. I remember you being confused on how to pay with your dad’s credit card when the check came.

“I don’t even have my license yet, how do you expect me to help?” I laughed. Afterwards, we smoked a joint on the swings and fucked in your backseat as if we hadn’t spent the entire year there.

On a weekend visit home from boarding school in 2012, you hid a letter written on the back of a Southwest ticket in one of the bushes outside my house. I’d gotten too drunk and fallen asleep before I could sneak out to meet you, which in retrospect was probably a good thing. I’d just started dating someone else—someone I actually was allowed to talk to, and who wrote me every week. “Whenever you feel the pain of the past, turn to the gift of the unwritten future,” I remember the last line read. I kept that letter for years. I wish I hadn’t lost it.

You pulled the car over in the middle of a snow storm in 2013 and asked if I still thought about marrying you. I was too high to respond, so you started recounting all the details of what we’d planned to fill the silence. Months later, halfway into summer, we met at the park near your house and watched the sunset. You were dating someone with the same name as me and for some reason that detail hurt more than others. Of course we were both already high when we met up that night, but we sat on a picnic table and smoked out of an orange together anyway.

I’m starting to realize meeting up to smoke gave us an excuse to see each other. You asked me if I was sleeping with anyone. I was, and it was a friend of yours. I know it’s sadistic of me but I almost did it just to see the look on your face when I told you.

We tried to say goodbye last summer on your birthday in June. Sitting on the curb near my old house at 2 AM, you remained standing and in the middle of the street. At one point you dropped to the ground and buried your face in your hands, shaking your head.

“We have a few options. We could say goodbye, never talk again, and wonder what could have been. It’s clear we can never be friends. Or we could say fuck it and finally really try this. But if we do that, if we try, that makes this real. This won’t ever truly end. Not nicely, at least. We’ll either end up married or fucking hating each other,” I said.

“But I don’t want to risk that, the last thing I want to do is hate you,” you said. When you looked at me I could tell you were trying not to cry.

I will always love you, no matter how many times we try to quit each other; no matter if ever follow through with it or not. Talking about sharing the rest of your life with someone changes you and your future; you’ll always be comparing what you’re currently living to the life you two planned, because that life still lives in a way; a shared house is bought in your thoughts and the girls and boys names you chose will never sound the same. That life doesn’t just go away. It stays tucked in your back pocket even as you fuck and love and breakup with other people.

But I realize it became a crutch. Something to lean on when I was insecure, because what we felt for each other always proved to be more permanent than any other feeling. You like my art and when I’m sad, it doesn’t scare you. I told you I’d meet you in Colorado once I graduated, and I encourage you to tell me what you’re thinking. We know how to argue and the kind of love we have is the closest to home we’ve felt in years. But I can’t seem to do this with you anymore and I wish I could explain why.

X

Ryan was in the midst of random men I turned to when I first tried to forget you my senior year of high school. It’s not that I was a slut or too easy to the extreme, but I did fuck and still fuck in attempts to shove you to the back of my mind sometimes. Of the few that I bent the rules with, Ryan stood out. He was a sophomore at smart school who had a full ride that was publicized around town, and his dad had died suddenly a few years back. He was mainly known for that. That, and his drug dealing.

He started talking to me at the end of my dwindling attempt of a relationship with a guy I was friends with. I swear he could smell the pity and knew he could have me. He picked me up the Sunday after I drunkenly dumped him. I left 3 AM Monday a much happier girl.

He then started driving home once a week, then twice a week, then three times just to pick me up from school and go straight to his room. As far as my mother was concerned, I was “at the library”. I remember not feeling the pressure to feel when I was with him. He wasn’t over his ex, I wasn’t over mine. We got to smoke and fuck and drink whiskey straight from the bottle without any leftover shame of why we were doing it and we didn’t have to confront that. I remember him going down on me as I smoked from a vape pen from the first time, pressing the button and watching the blue light start flashing when it deemed I’d had enough. High as hell, I laughed at the metaphor, and when he looked up from confusion, I chose not to share. “Just fuck me,” I said instead.

One night when we were half a bottle of Captain deep, I noticed he wasn’t as in to it. Something about how he kept stopping and moving his face away from mine felt off; I was used to having to be the one to slow him down. Not caring enough to question it, we continued until he pushed himself off and rolled away from me.

“What’s going on?” I finally asked. It was quiet for a moment. I watched his back expand in quick spurts and felt the tension of his held breath.

“My dad is dead,” he said to the wall.

And all I could think of to say back was “I know”. I stopped fucking him after that.

X

You drove to see me in the city the other night. You were here and in front of me and so visibly in love with me so I tried to love you back just like I used to, but my body wouldn’t let me. We fell asleep on the floor and when we woke, I forgot it was you for a minute, and yet I don’t know who else I would’ve assumed was holding me. The guilt I felt when you thought it was an accident I was inching away was overwhelming.

I put myself to bed, and you followed because we were too drunk and high to fight anymore. But when you placed your hands on my face and kissed me awake the next morning, I panicked.

A life with you seemed plausible when the past didn’t hurt.

I’d forgotten that it always would.

Flashback to you sitting on that senior girl’s porch; summer 2010. I walked outside as the party was dying and watched my friends give in and get picked up by their disappointed parents; I hadn’t even dialed a number yet. You and a friend were passing a blunt back and forth across the table and I just stood there as this semi-confident freshman.

You then passed it to me without making eye contact.

I tasted grape as you talked with him about schools you were applying to, and I thought about the weekend before. I’d been babysitting and still invited you over, convinced you it’d be okay to sneak over to my house once I got home.

Mistakenly using Nare when I thought it’d be the night. Not even feeling the pain of it and the rest of my mistakes once you came.

You were my consensual first time, and we were at the same party. You were my first time, and I was excited about it. You were my first time, and you wouldn’t look me in the eye. And I wish I never pretended that I was okay after that.

I look up from my midnight secret cigarette and notice the lamp screwed above the balcony's door is lopsided. I sigh because I am too tired to laugh.

I'll write about it once I get to my room,​ I think.

Fuck I hope I remember it by the time I get there...

Why do I have to drink more than a bottle of wine to feel like I get the peace I deserve? I scramble my pockets for a better working lighter and found just that and my inhaler. 

I light another and play a song I liked when I was 16. The shadows on the wall are dancing nicely and I wish to photograph it, but the cold stops me.

X

I’m sitting cross-legged in contempt, contemplating whether or not it’s emptiness, and breathe out smoke as I rub my knees for warmth. I wonder what and why I let come between them. Sometimes when reminders of lost memories flood back, I wince and make a sound. I’ve learned that these add up, and at odd moments, sting me with shame.

My mother asked what I did with the four days she gave me left alone in this house and I gave a detailed description of how the silence was so nice it rewarded with me over ten pages of writing I could use for class. In reality, it gave me only four, none of which for school. I didn't care. And I don’t, I really fucking don’t.

I'm writing, I'm expressing-- in ways I haven't in a while. I haven't been in therapy since 2013 and I'm coping in weird ways, the best of which is this. Everything still hurts, and that everything covers from the bullying to the blackouts to feeling like my father avoids looking me in the eye. I drink, to an extent I deem necessary, but I don't smoke nearly as much. Pretending the Xanax I'm prescribed doesn't count lets me validate the idea that I'm not abusing pills like I used to, but when the amount adds up every so often, it's hard to ignore. And I’m finally trying to push you out of my life and forget all the good and focus on the bad because there really is so much of it—more than we’d both like to admit. So yes, I'm sitting here cross-legged on a lawn chair on my balcony, and I can’t pretend it is not freezing. And yes, I used to be able to. But please, try to remember, I used to be able to pretend many things.

[catflowerqueen]

Bag Swap AU, Alternate Ending

A slightly happier/less angst filled alternative ending to the bag swap AU (at least in some regards. In others it may actually be worse. It really depends on your personal perspective about these sorts of things): 

This one is slightly more likely to happen in the version that takes place before the expedition, if only because in that version Uxie has more of an idea of her true identity via his brush with her mind and actually told her that she was probably a worshipper of Relatia—which Grovyle then confirmed, especially in regards to how close she apparently was to the goddess, even if he has no idea about the whole Rainbow Child thing. So she is more likely to try attempting this because she actually thinks it has a slight chance of working. On the other hand, she also has even less of an idea about what she is doing because she made more actual escape attempts while with Grovyle in this version, so she didn’t get quite as close to him before the reveal as she did in the other one—I’ll give more details shortly in another post.

Anyways, while everyone is splitting their time between searching for the Hidden Land and searching for a way to ensure that the pokemon in the future get to keep existing even when time is changed, Laura decides she is going to try and contact Relatia. Does she have any real idea of what she’s doing? Not really. But she may ask Grovyle a few pointed questions, and then ask if Uxie or Torkoal or someone knows a way to contact the Golden Child, who apparently still in this world, and may have some sort of idea about what to do. …And even if he can’t actually contact his goddess, he still may know something anyways. They may actually even briefly take Dusknoir and the Sableye out of prison in order to get their help—which they would readily provide, considering the circumstances.

And they do manage to find him. And it also turns out that he is very shocked to see her, for perfectly understandable reasons. It’s rather hard for him to keep quite about her identity, but he pulls through and attempts to walk her through the process of contacting their goddess. He is not entirely hopeful about the chances of success, considering that he already tried contacting her Relatia when time first started going out of whack, but now he has even more of a stake in getting this whole situation fixed because he isn’t entirely sure how Laura came to be in this world and, thus, can’t be certain that she won’t disappear if this method doesn’t work.

A tense few days later, when everyone is prepared to just bite the bullet and go with Plan A, and she shows up.

Her emotions are a mix of things and extremely hard to pin down, but primarily is joy at the fact that she was finally able to come here, because she has been looking for a way through for ages now. Though she doesn’t quite get into the reasons why just yet, as she has more pressing matters to attend to. So they put the time gears in their proper place with no fuss—because even a Dialga in the starting throes of madness is no match for her power—and she easily fixes the problem in regards to the pokemon of the future disappearing, though she is a little bemused by it all for the fact that this is not generally the way in which she employs this particular method—which has been outlined in an earlier. I forget which one.

Then we start getting into the good/slightly angsty stuff. Relatia expresses confusion about the fact that everyone was so worried about Laura disappearing when that was never actually a danger with her—or, at least it shouldn’t have been, if not for the fact that Laura is who she is, no matter the circumstances of where and when she was/is born—since she isn’t actually from the pokemon world. She was born in the human world—and the reason why Relatia was so frantic about finding her was because she isn’t the first of her servants to be kidnapped from Earth to be taken to the pokemon world, and Laura was a small child at the time of her kidnapping. Everyone but Dusknoir’s group is surprised at this, because he was the one who did the kidnapping both times. Relatia is not happy about this, but is willing to let it go for now since she blames Dialga far more for what happened.

But Dusknoir, surprisingly, is not willing to let it go—and Grovyle, even more surprisingly—is actually willing to back him up on this when she starts going on and on about how happy Laura’s parents will be when she tells them the good news about their daughter finally being found. Dusknoir is extremely adamant about the fact that Laura never, ever is put back in their custody—and once Grovyle realizes the implications behind Laura never actually using the term “parents,” only “guardians,” he also vehemently agrees. Which is when everyone finds out that Dusknoir was actually basically Laura’s pseudo-father-figure all this time, which gives them all a lot of mixed emotions. Relatia isn’t entirely sure what to do with this information, especially when Dusknoir also brings up some stuff about the Little Imp’s situation, but ultimately decides that, at least for now, it is probably best that Laura stay in this world while she gets to the bottom of things. She also suggests that Grovyle and Dusknoir’s group (who she is feeling marginally warmer to, or at least willing to trust them on this matter given Grovyle’s corroboration) hang out here in the past for a while and help rebuild things a bit since they have first-hand experience for the things that went wrong in the paralyzed future. She or Dialga can take them back to their own time later, if they actually feel like going.

The others grudgingly admit that it would be a good means of probation/rehabilitation for the group… and also grudgingly admit that they don’t feel quite as upset about their involvement in the whole debacle since survival instincts are a strong thing, and even if fixing time was the right thing to do, it isn’t unreasonable that they would have fought to preserve their own experience. And never having actually experienced the paralyzed future and all its intricacies, they aren’t sure that they are really in a position to judge. Also… it’s clear that they all adore Laura, and Grovyle at least tolerates them/respects them/understands them, even if he doesn’t necessarily like them—at least in Dusknoir’s case. He actually has good relationships with many of the Sableye, even if they could never actually be on the greatest of terms, so they are more willing to just let it go.

That, and they’re all still reeling from all this information on Laura’s past and the struggles that not even Grovyle knew about.

Given all this, Darkrai may or may not actually decide to reveal himself. It probably depends on how close he has been watching all of this recent drama. But if he does just decide to hang around Treasure Town and watch further, then Laura is definitely going to catch him at it eventually. …Though even in that case, he still may opt out of actually telling anyone what he did. He’s a complicated guy, after all, and his reasons for the sabotage were equally complicated.

There will definitely be interesting reactions from everyone if he does pop up, however, especially depending on which route he goes from there.

As for the situation with Laura and where she eventually ends up… probably Relatia is going to deem it best that she stays in the pokemon world for now, since she has some major infrastructural overhauls to do back home in regards to Laura’s situation specifically and that of the Rainbow Children in general. Laura will likely pick the past world because, unfortunately but understandably for Grovyle—this is where she actually has memories of. But Grovyle will probably visit a lot either way, and will likely bring Celebi.

When Laura eventually regains her memories after turning thirteen, she has a lot of conflicted feelings about the situation in general—especially where Earth and her parents are concerned, given that it was only now, after someone literally kidnapped her—multiple times, even, and during multiple lives—that Relatia had any inkling that things actually might not be that great for her Rainbow Children as they grew up. And she’s also annoyed that she took so long to see the issues for herself.

Some of that latter part will likely be discussed a bit in Déjà vu, especially near the end.