#my back is killing me i started building st like 5 it is now almost 9

[lumagarden]

built lloyd’s titan mech today :D!!!!

[the-firebird69]

John Parr - St. Elmo's Fire (Man In Motion) (Official Music Video)

Or something I'll be able to say what I want to he gets out going in the bathroom and making people horrified I'll tell you one he has gas a lot it's not as fault but he's stuck up that party so bad we had to leave they got to say. Are you two still here they say that to me a few times and I'm finally there's a smile on his face so big he said I think I stuck the place off and we should get out of here. That has smile back and it said I think you're right so we left and we're with each other and have a good time is that good to go to the restroom like four times and the fourth time they're like that's pretty good right there. It was a small little cottage there's a friend of mine were having a party the whole place stunk. Eddie goes quietly I have to get fart fans into the building code and they're kind of laughing and I heard ladies we left and driving down the road they all started giggling and saying his thing so bad I don't know what the hell to say. And they're eating the same food and also like three of us this is not good the whole place is worse and they said we need to see what it is now. is that in a few places and it's really really bad worse than them they don't have to leave the house and stuck so bad and they open the windows and still stuck and yeah John rivlearn smell like s*** yesterday at the Publix I hate him and he comes in these things like s*** yes and get out and it would not leave so they ate the piece of s***. And he went to the party though he went to the restaurant and I thought it was the Richmond but it's not it's where this was filmed nearby about 5 miles away and his dad stopped in his mom and his dad wanted to in the evening eating this food and he's going to tell you this is good let's talk to you yet they stopped eating it and my husband thought for sure his mom was going to crap it out and she didn't and she took some Pepto cuz he's warning her the stuff's bad and he took a little but didn't do anything so go to the rest of it says I think I'm going to take care of this now and they weren't laughing cuz he didn't look too good hey went in there and shoot it out for like 10 minutes and it came out like water at the end and he's wiping and wiping and wiping the whole restaurant stunt while he was in there it stuck the whole thing the whole place everything. And Mom and Dad were happy as hell and they say the computers made it out and he goes good and he goes good in the whole place reeks I mean you can you can not go and square inch and that restaurant and I heard about it and I was researching of course and everybody was going to pew this stuff already stinks to something wrong with you there's this little voice say it's an early warning system they got really mad because none of the food was good and they checked the kitchen someone went in and really it was rancid and they said what the f*** are you doing that we haven't had many people here lately and now they're lying and it was Trump you probably get killed all the time for this stuff this is what women do you f****** fruit and he also he says all and it is the woman and he still hasn't figured it out. But boy it's my husband stink with that happens and they're in the restaurant like choking on it and they find out the food is bad and then like 50 people go to the restroom and they're asking for the money back and the hope is stuck like s*** and we heard somebody called the health department this is not really funny because the whole kitchen is full of rotten seafood and he got really bad and it was a cork and he called up and he came down Elisa this place stinks what the f*** are you doing the water is bad too and also they shut it down and he's saying that's what's going to happen we'll see almost fire St Elmo's fire instead of shutting the place down already if it's a liars and they don't know what we're talking about they will

Hera

Olympus

Certainly a few things to say it and this is one of them and it's not many others but I'll tell you what this is how it goes someone is saying that his s*** is rancid but everybody else is doing it and that's what it means he's not the only one talking about this and he's not really the one doing it and everybody else is the same food

Thor Freya

Yeah people stink up the place for that party too and when Christ's sake this kid isn't thinking stinky kitties stinky and loud and mean and everything pestering us it goes f*** off and he said that all over the place and we have to stop doing it to him we're getting beat up for it

Trump

Olympus

[itsmadamehydra]

My Savior || Wayne McCullough

A/N: Just some teenage girl trying to write the story inside her head, hope u like it.

Pairing: Wayne McCullough x oc

Warnings: rape, intention of rape, harassment, blood mention, bullying, language (a little strong)

.................

.................

I've always like to watch him by far, he just seems different from the rest (and oh boy, he is).

The first time I saw him I was in 7th grade. I was just one more girl of the many others that her tities just had started to show and my period started to visit me. I remember that day clearly, I was sitting at the hallway with my bestfriend at the time, eating infront of our lockers when I saw him.

"Am telling ya girl, the answer of number 5 was c." I said trying to reason with her about the science test answers "I told you that if u needed help to study, I could help ya." I smile at her and move my arm upward to touch her shoulder

"Yeah, yeah, I know...are you sure it was not D?" she said frowning her eyebrows once more. We stayed in silence for a sec before bursting into laughter and tears

Little by little our laughs started to fade, allowing ears to hear the background and aswell some loud voices, it sounded like an argument but by the hears of it a fight was going to start soon. "What you think is happening over there?" Cassie murmured, I stared at the end of the hallway where apparently was were the voices were coming from.

"I don't know..." my lips formed a thin line while I was thinking about what could have been happening in there, "You wanna, you know, go and see?" I looked back at my friend

"Freak yeah" she laughed grabbing my hand and running down the hallway to see the soon to be fight.

Once we got there, there was a mass of students surrounding what appeared to be the ones who where arguing. "Ugh, I can't see, I hate been so small." I said, "Hey, that smallness is beautiful and you know you can use that in your own benefit" Cassia said and winked at me.

"I mean, yeah but I can't-" my word stopped at the moment I heard a want sounded and I believe to be a punch in the face. "You saw that!?" Cassie said, "That was freaking awesome, please tell me you saw it!" "Um, nah Cassie, I cant see a crap" i said while trying to find a whole where to see through.

It was only a matter of seconds until more punches were heard. I started pushing people more frantically, I wanted to see what was happening. When I get pass a few amount of studens I almost slipped, looked sown to see what was it and it was stains of blood, only a few but still.

"Oh gosh, disgusting." When I look up only a few students are still in the cafeteria and a guy wearing a grey hoddie was just there, staring at the bloodie face of another guy. I stared back at the hoddie guy and noticed a little hammer in his hand, and the words just came out of my mouth without even noticing, "Why the hammer? Want to be a constructed or something?" He just stared at me and pass by me without saying a word and keeping a neutral face.

"Who the hell was that crazy ass weirdo?" I hear Cassie's voice behind me. "I don't know" I responded, "But I will know...one day."

"Ok,ok, am not going to get in between your little search thingi but am sure he is not good news." Cassie said, "You saw what he did, and he has a FREAKING hammer, y/n! Covered in blood y/n!" She grabbed my shoulders from behind, "I think we all understood the message, stay the fuck away from him, honey."

And I just smiled.

Months later I learned his name. Wayne, Wayne McCullough. Fits the ring if you ask me. Everyone was speaking about how violent, crazy and wierdo he was, about how he was going to show up at your house to beat the hell put of you.

I just observed him by far, well, I like to think that I noticed him. I noticed how he usually beats up those who are some assholes jerks that have only one brain cell as much. Noticed that he is not much of a talker and a shy boy. Noticed how he makes his lips thin when he gets lost in thoughts. How he closes his fist when he is about to do something. His strangely high pain tolerance. His pale skin and dark hair appeared to me to be very llamative and aswell his strength. He was and is skinny but somehow has a great strength, maybe do to the unincredible amounts of fights he gets in. Experience makes the master is what the say...right?

Years went by, we entered to highschool and the nervousness along with the fast beating, sweating and butterflies were still there every time i either tought about him or saw him walking around.

Cassie stayed with me for a while until she decided to join the group of nasty ass bitches with no brain cells who believed no one was better than them. While I...well, I stayed small for a big part I guess, always with good grades, teachers love me and try to be nice with every one I guess.

Everything was going great until Cassie along with some guys recorded me somehow while being drunk and them trying to overpass the boundaries, and let me tell ya.. that was just the start.

The had videos of me at the school bathroom, pictures of my underwear under my skirts and dresses, them trying to touch me. I had to learn to defend myself, stopped using skirts, dresses, shorts even do I loved wearing the. Replace my shoes with tennis and always had hair ties.

"Y/n, wake up! You're going to be late for school, don't think ama wait for you!" I mom yelled.

"Yes, mom! Dont worry, am up!" I run down the stairs with my backpack, went to the kitchen, grabbed an apple and went straight to the car.

"Oh for God sake, y/n" she said went she looked at me and noticed my new hair style.

"What? You don't like it? I just cut it a little." I satered at her innocently

"Your father is not gonna like it and you know it." She said and the stress lines appeared in her forehead, "You know this is his weekend and-"

She couldn't finish her sentence because I started taking, "Am not going to that dickheads house, mother." I said strainly, "Don't want to see his and face of that bitch he cheated you with..." i lowly said but loud enough to hear.

"I know, honey but you have to and besides you get to see your brother!" She patted my thigh, "Haven't seen him in a while right?" She said with a sad tone

"You should be the one seeing him...not me." I stared outside the window, there were just some trees and houses and garbage.

Mom and dad divorced a while back, he cheated on her. The house was a mess that day, screams and broken glass everywhere. Sammy was lucky, he was at grandma's but I was home...listening to every single word. That was also the first time a sneaked out and the first time I sort-of spoke to Wayne.

"What are you doing here?" I heard someone said behind me, I looked and it was fucking Wayne

"Just trying to have some quietness i guess..." I stared at my fingers and started playing with them because of my nervousness, "...What are you doing here?" I asked softly

And he stayed silent...the whole time after that. Either way, his company was nice and the side profile, ufff, amazing.

"Ok, we are here." I stared at the building for a sec before giving my mother a kiss in her cheek and entered to the building.

"Hey y/n! Nice ass!" That was the jerk of all jerks, Jonathan.

I turned around and stared at him, "Oh yeah?" He nodded, "Want to see me shop of your dick?" Changed my tone while saying that into a lower and more serious tone. He just stared at me with sealed lips and left.

I continued walking to my locker and I come to see tgat my freaking lock is broken, I search in all the spaces but nothing is missing.

"Come on! They had just changed me of locker!" I silently yelled. Started grabbing my books for the next few classes when I felt a hand in my shoulder, by instinct I grabbed the wrist, pushed the person against the locker and added pressure in the throat with my other arm.

"Hey y/n" Orlando smiled, "New move?" I chuckled and removed my arm, now, standing face to face I respond

"You know you shouldn't do that Orlando bunny." I laugh st the nickname I gave him a few time ago. Orlando was one of the few FEW people who talked to me, well, he talked to everyone but still.

"I know... I just forgot I guess man." He looked down, "Y/n...have your tities grown bigger?" His face looked confused.

I slapped his head and punched his shoulder, "Could you please stop looking and thinking 'bout tities when am around you?"

"I mean, yeah sure...and sorry about your lock." He points the locker, "Wayne thought it was still his but since-" I cut him off before he could continue

"Wayne?" I asked confused

"Yeah, Is tha-" i cut him off again

"Why did he tho?" I murmured staring at my lock in hand.

"It used to be his locker but oh well...he missed school for 3 weeks and yeah." He grabs his backpacks laces after explaining.

"Oh...ok, is he still here tho?" I looked at Orlando

"I guess..." he was about to say pther thing when the bell ring and we started to go toour classes, "See you later gorgeous!" He yells from the corner of the hallway.

I stayed there...just staring at my lock for a while, then order my things fast and left to class. What I didn't know was that someone was watching at me.

Three days later, i was walking back home and i heard s car going at full speed and nasty comments were started to be listend. I kept walking trying tk pretend they didn't exist when the car is suddenly over the sideway and infront of me.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME ASSHOLES!!" I yelled.

"But...you are bot dead right, bitch?" Jonathan said getting out of the car. There were five, 2 guys and 3 girls. "Don't prefer to suck my dick and be my slut, promise I'll pay a good amount." He said infront of me,

"She is already a slut baby." Veronica said

"I bet she has sleeped with half school, wouldn't surprise me if you haven been org*e or something." You know, comments are comments, you are the one who decide what hurt you and whats does not, but being Cassie the one who said that...broke my freaking heart.

I couldn't stand it anymore, wanted to leave the place so i came up with a plan very fast. I walked closer to Jonathan trying to be the most seductive I could, touched his chest, abs and got closer to his ear and said, "You are going to regret everything" Punched him with all my strenght in this genitiles, stomp on his feet, punched his nose and ran the faster I could out of there.

"You bitch!" I heard from far but i continued running, I couldn't stop, i was scared, didn't know what could happen if the get me. I could hear the car engines behind me, but i didn't stop.

I was close a bridge, ran underneath it, passed some houses but i could still hear the voices and car. My legs hurt, i needed to catch my breath, i could hear my heart beat, my body felt on fire. When I less expected am suddenly trapped, there were some abandoned buildings and warehouses but no way to get put of there. This was it, my end.

"Couldn't escape from me you nasty little bitch!?" I heard his voice, i was never one to pray but believe when i say i begged to God to save me. "You ain't going anywhere...bitch" he was behind me, I could sense it.

My hair was pulled, he pulls me by my hair to his car and i notice that it's just him and another guy. Am not getting out of here.

"We are going to have so much fun!" He licks my cheek and i try to kick him wherever.

"HELP!" I yelled, "SOMEBODY PLEASE, HELP!" my voice sounded horrific, like if i hadn't drank a single drop of water in ages, "please" y murmure my last pledge before he finally puts me over the capo of his car.

"No one's gonna help you, you slut." He says, the other guy was just watching and standing still, doing nothing.

I gave up, didn't even notice I was crying until I tasted the salt in my lips. I felt him over me, unbucking my pants and then...i didnt felt his weight anymore, instead, i heard a cry of pain, and then another cry, and another and another.

I lifted my head and there he was, grey hoddie and little hammer in hand...my savior. I smiled.

My smile just grew bigger and bigger every second I saw that boy swing that motherfucker hammer, every second that Jonathan's blood was spilled. I lool around in search pf the pther guy scared that he might try to grab but I get calm when i see him unconscious on the floor.

A few minuts later th cries stop and i look up, Jonathan was missing 3 teeths and face covered with blood, i think he could even have a brocken rib or something.

Am sitting on top of the car's capo when a feel a slight, fragile touch.

"You ok?" Wayne askes pulling a string of my hair behind my ear.

"...now I am." I smile to him and he returns a little small tiny one with a grin. I was about to say something else when he suddenly speaks

"Want to be my girlfriend or whatever?" He says looking exhausted, I chuckle

"Try a little harder and I might be." I say soflty with a small thin smile and he avoids my eyes but I still get to notice a small blush.

...................

Hey! So, yeah. This is my first ever published thing. Hope you enjoyed it and if you want a part two or to keep writing, am open to any suggestion! Am not very good with the warnings section so if you could help me with it, i would totally apreciate that!

Thank you for reading,

[javierpinme]

The Catalyst

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: sexual tension, mention of Cara Dune is its own warning

Rating: T

Summary: You don't know why you thought you could make it one day without fighting with Mando. The tension has been building for a while and it looks like you're about to reach the conclusion of it.

A/N: I originally sent this in as a thot as an anon hoping I would finally stop thinking about it, but alas I couldn’t so here we are. I originally uploaded this on AO3 a week ago and realized that I never put it on here.

AO3

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The cheers of the villagers are a complete contrast to the earlier events filled with screams, flesh tearing, and blasters firing. The threat of the raiders is over. Mando and you have made it out alive with zero casualties. The only acknowledgement between the two of you after Cara and him solved the problem of the AT-ST is a stiff nod. Anything more than that would reveal your hidden feelings; you're not ready to unpack that one just yet. The adrenaline of the ordeal is shifting into a state of exhaustion. The familiar ache seeping into your joints and muscles that usually follows post-battle.

Mando is tired too. You can see it in the way he slumps his shoulders and his slower than normal strides with Cara. You walk to your temporary living situation and don't even bother to remove your clothes that more than likely have blood on it. You'll deal with your dirty sheets in the morning. You sit down on the edge of your cot and your boots are mocking you. Why did you have to pick shoe wear that involves you bending to untie them? Your muscles are screaming at you to relieve the tension building. There aren't that many comforts in the galaxy, but even the cot felt like a 5 star hotel bed when you feel like this. Mando comes into the hut shortly after though he never removes his armor. You respect his creed, but there wasn't a threat anymore. It can't be comfortable sleeping like that, but telling him would make it seem like you care. You don't, of course.

You don't usually feel the need to fill the silence, but you find yourself filling it. Goodnight. There's a pause from the other side of the hut and your mind starts running that you crossed an unspoken invisible line that the two of you created. Then you hear it. Goodnight.

There's warmth from the sun rays spilling onto your features when the sun starts to rise. You can see children running around off in the distance and you can't help the smile forming on your face hearing their laughter. They more than likely haven't known peace since the raiders started their wrath. It felt good to have played a role in that.

The stretch you do lying in the cot feels wonderful on your back. Out of the corner of your eye you see Mando in a similar state of relaxation. His hands are folded behind his head and his ankles crossed. He must have noticed you were awake, because he immediately breaks the moment by leaving. Does he ever stay still? You can't help the drawn out sigh that falls from your lips and close your eyes to take in the sounds surrounding you.

The sound of heavy footsteps cause you to open your eyes along with the feeling of something being placed on your on the edge of your cot. Breakfast. He brought you breakfast. Good morning, thanks. Morning. He says with a grunt at your appreciation of bringing you food. You lift yourself up with a groan to a seated position and enjoy the moment. It was too quiet.

You’re not even sure how you got here. The reason for your argument in the first place was drowned out by your inner need for dominance. You were at a slight disadvantage due to the towering presence of beskar, but what you did have going for you was your stubbornness and smart retort to his intimidation tactics.  You’re both vibrating with unresolved tension with no chance of release; nothing to redirect what you’re feeling so resorting to your usual vices which is screaming at each other.  

It wasn’t always like this. You used to make him laugh underneath that tin can sometimes. Sometime between being just a crew member to whatever it was that was beginning to develop between the two of you that was when the fights started. It was easier than dealing with the latter. The galaxy was too harsh for allowing anyone to feel love without anguish following closely behind. The only communication you seemed to agree on was silence, yelling, and sarcasm. It was easier that way.

You’re in Sorgan and it’s pouring outside. He’s trying to get you to go inside, but you’re so damn stubborn you refuse just out of spite. It doesn’t even matter that your clothes are soaked causing your body’s response to the freezing temperature. He can probably hear your teeth chattering from where he’s standing. The thunder and lightning isn’t helping. It adds another layer of the already volatile situation you’ve both found yourselves in. Why is it so fucking cold?

Dammit you’ll get sick. You’re not useful to me if you’re bedridden.

That’s it. That’s the catalyst. You're not sure if he can even see the glare you're giving him in the darkness, but you hope he does. You can’t stand to be in the same room with him anymore. Even just the thought of hearing him breathe at this point is a nuisance. It’s almost too much. It will kill you, you’re sure of it. I’m bunking with Cara. He’s lost his patience. You can tell from the heaving of his chest, but you can’t find it in you to care. You don’t need to see his face to know there is a scowl under there. You’re surprised you can’t see smoke coming out of that helmet. Why isn’t he saying anything? His body is so rigid and tense. You might have gone too far this t-

What are you doing?!

 He’s thrown you over his shoulders to carry you back to the hut you share. It’s like you don’t even weigh anything even with the extra weight your soaked clothes add. You would be impressed with his strength if you weren’t supposed to pretend how much you hated it so you thrash your legs in protest. You liked the screaming better. Now you feel like he’s treating you like a petulant child by giving you the silent treatment. He’s trying to make you look like the one with the temper tantrum because there might be witnesses. You’d be surprised if you didn’t wake up the whole village. He can probably feel how freezing you are and puts you down. Without saying another word he kneels down in front of the fireplace to create warmth in the room. The only sounds filling the room are the crackle of the fire and your own shallow breaths.

Your clothes. Take it off or I will.

You know you can’t keep your clothes on. You know you need to change into something dry, but you refuse again just to establish you’re the one in control. You’re in control. Not him. Realistically you’re aware you could get sick and you would probably need to stay in bed. Then you briefly wonder if he has a filter in that helmet because you’d definitely sneeze in his face if he didn’t.  How can you change when he’s made no move to even turn around?

It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

What?

You had argued about god knows what and you left to blow off steam the day before. By the time you made it back the hue in the hut changed from that orange soft glow that golden hour usually brings to a soft blue. It would have been pretty if you weren’t so damn annoyed still. Mando was asleep thankfully so no awkward dance of trying to ignore the other in close quarters. You watched the soft rise and fall of his chest signaling he was indeed asleep. He was almost tolerable when he was sleeping even with the snoring. Almost cute. Almost. It didn’t matter that you never saw what was under the helmet, but you would never give him any indication of that. You were so tired. You were physically drained from the day so you took off your clothes haphazardly and changed into a nightshirt to sleep your frustrations away. Tomorrow will be better.

You were awake the whole time and didn’t say anything? You seethed.

You seemed to be having trouble and I didn’t want to hear your complaining when you inevitably tripped.

He’s challenging you. You’re both very well aware the dam could break based on your next move and he’s not going to lay out all his cards. Would the fighting even stop? Even with the resolve of all your combined tension? You’re taking too long and he’s staring. It’s hard to tell when all you see is a black abyss in place for eyes, but you can feel them boring into yours with loathing or is it desire?

You’re going to get sick if you don’t change.

He cares, but he would never give you any indication of that. He takes a step towards you to let you know he wasn’t lying about his earlier statement. If you’re going to do this you’re going to make a fuss about it. It’s childish, yes, but you don’t have it in you to care. It’s better than laying out all your cards. He can’t enjoy this if you’re glaring at him. I hate you. No, you don’t.

Never losing eye contact you start untying your boots. Glare. The cool air is doing nothing to calm your heated skin after your shirt is removed, but you can’t decide if the temperature is rising from anger or something else. Don’t enjoy this. Too late. The rain is still roaring outside and there’s almost an electric charge in the room waiting to spark. It’s too quiet. Then he says,

Glare all you want but this is doing something for me.

[red1culous]

Oh part 5

Part 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7

After the events of that day wound down a little you made your escape. Much to Pepper’s chagrin. You finally answer her after receiving her 11th text and millionth missed call. In your pyjamas tucked underneath your covers you shoot her a quick apology blaming something frivolous for not being able to stay longer. Of course she forgives you immediately. Which makes you feel even worse for what you did. But you were finding it more and more hard to breathe after your encounter with Natasha. 

And so when Pepper orders 2 dozen more cupcakes to be personally delivered to the Tower in a weeks time, claiming it to be for a big board meeting, you couldn’t but say yes to her. 

Next week rolls around faster than you would have liked. As the deadline drew closer, your work partner becomes more and more frazzled at the idea of a repeat order from the Avengers. 

“Do you think we could get a seal like the ones they put on English jams from the Queen?” she asks excitedly hovering over you as you put on the finishing touches.

“Are you insane?” you laugh shoving her slightly to create some distance between the both of you. “What would it even say, ‘Official Caterers to the Worlds’ Mightiest Heroes’?”

She quirks an eyebrow. “You’re right that’s way too long. We need an acronym.” 

You sigh heavily as she continues wearing a hole in the flooring. “What about OSTLER?”

“What does that even mean?” you scrunch up your face trying to focus on your task.

“Official catererS The worLds’ mightiEst heRoes!” she exclaims as if it was obvious.

“I don’t think that would—“ you try before she cuts you off.

“ARTHRITIS? cAtereRs To tHe woRlds’ mIghTIest heroeS?” she spurts out almost tripping over her own words.

“No that won’t—“

“Ok then what about FLATTISH? ” oFficiaL cAterers To The mIghtieSt Heroes. Good right?!” she says her enthusiasm off the charts.

“You know what,” you say shaking your head as you carefully pack the cupcakes into its boxes, “how about you think of something and let me know when I get back.”

“Deal!” she squeals. 

“Now please help me load up the truck or I’m going to be late!”

xxx

You stumble on the highly polished marble floors of the Avengers tower as you strain trying to balance 3 boxes of cupcakes and your sling bag dangerously close to falling off your right shoulder. “Hi,” you manage to huff the burly man sitting at the front desk, “I have a delivery of cupcakes from—“

“Ah Ms. Y/N? I was told to give you this and send you up immediately” he says slotting a keycard in between your fingers and walking you through the security body scanners. “Ms. Potts said you know your way around?” he adds as he waits for you to manoeuvre through the smallish space trying not to crush the boxes you held a little tighter to your body.

“Yes I do but—“ you try.

“Splendid well have a good day” he cuts you off again as he leaves you to wait by the elevator. You sigh as you take a breath to calm yourself. Emily hadn’t stopped chatting your ear off causing you to run 10 minutes late. You hated being late. In fact, being on time was considered late to you. Trying to peer at the watch on your wrist was pointless as you when you did try, you almost dropped the boxes you were carrying. You peered at yourself in the mirror reflection of the elevator doors and wondered if everything in this building was polished to perfection. Scrunching up your nose at your less than perfect appearance you try and blow some hair that had fallen onto your face away. And what’s worse, you started to feel an itch on the tip of your nose. 

Oh for Christ’s sake.

You try and rub your nose against your shoulder but the movement causes you to almost drop your boxes. Then you tried to relieve the itch by rubbing it against the boxes but that seemed to make it worse.

DING.

Freaking finally you think to yourself. Shimmying in sideways you notice someone already inside the space. “Sorry,” you apologise watching your feet so you don’t trip over anything, “wide load” you chuckle nervously.

“It’s fine” the stranger says and your eyes widen momentarily before you slowly turn so you can face her.

“Oh!” you curse your luck. “Natasha.”

“Hi” she says softly giving you the smallest of smiles. You notice her backing up into the corner as her eyes move from yours to her feet. She doesn’t look up. She looks so small there with her arms wrapped around herself as if she was trying to disappear. All of the sudden you’re overcome with sadness. Why would she need to hide away. From you. Was she hiding from you?

You can’t help yourself. “Hey Nat” the words slip out before you can stop yourself.

She looks up hesitantly. “Yeah?” her voice is soft. Cautious.

“Umm…” your brain is moving as the speed of light trying to come up with something. “Sorry” you wiggle your nose, “my nose is…is itchy. Would you mind?” you groan internally at hearing yourself.

A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she takes a half step towards you. “Here?” she rubs her index finger on the tip of your nose.

You weren’t trying anything. Your nose was truly itchy and had it not been for Natasha you might’ve sneezed and dropped everything. “Mmm thanks” you say as the itch subsides. Natasha looks up at you and smiles. It’s then you notice her red swollen eyelids and the puffiness under them. 

“Are you ok?” you say instinctively.

“I’ve…I’m ok” she says taking a step back and casting her eyes downwards again. 

“Can you help me with these?” you add not giving her a choice as you bend your knees slightly to slide a box into her hands. You can tell she wasn’t expecting that as she looks at you briefly with surprise in her eyes. 

“Sorry it’s just I’ve been holding onto these for close to 40 mins now and I can’t feel my hands anymore” you say trying to lighten the mood.

She gives you yet another timid smile. “It’s no worry” she says just before casting her eyes back down to the floor. Just before she does you watch as the overhead lights catch the puddles in her green eyes and the guilt that overcomes you feels like someone has just slapped you across the face with a hot iron. You turn your face forwards and pretend to not notice her wipe her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

DING.

The elevator doors open and you’re greeted by a very smiley Pepper Potts. “Y/N!” she beams, “oh Natasha I thought you were headed to that meeting downtown” she says stepping aside and walking the two of you to the conference room.

“I…uh…no, I mean it was postponed” she stutters a little. 

“I’m so sorry,” you turn to face her after placing the boxes onto the conference table, “if I had known I wouldn’t have imposed on you.”

“No no” she says, “it wasn’t an imposition at all, Y/N” the way she says your name is laced with regret and hurt its almost tangible. 

Pepper signs for someone to come and deal with the boxes as she fishes out a cheque which she expertly folds and slides into the breast pocket of your jacket. 

“I should go” Natasha mumbles softly and immediately turns around walking out of the conference room leaving you to just stare at her go. 

You turn back to Pepper and she’s smiling sympathetically at you. “Why do I feel like I just killed a puppy?” you say fishing the cheque out of your pocket. Your eyes grow large as saucepans, “Pep this is way too much” you exclaim.

She laughs at you as she wraps her arms around you. You hug back. “You feel like that because you still care about her” she says stroking your back. “And shush it’s not too much.”

“Pepper you overpaid me by 200%!” you pull away slightly holding her at arms length.

“Can you just…” she picks the cheque from your hands and refolds it placing it back into your pocket, “…accept the good things that come to you without making such a fuss.”

You pout and she pulls you back into another hug. This one tighter than the one before. And you hug back squeezing your eyes shut because you know exactly what she’s talking about.

--

Tagging: @thewidowintheweb​   @natasharomanoffismywife​  @imnotasuperhero​  @cybeleceto​  @silverwing2522​  @thelastavenger-3000​  @peggycarter-steverogers​  @rooskaya-yelena  @blackwidowromonoff  @lesbian-x-blackwidow  @nowthisisliving27   @izalesbean  @aaron-despair  @marvelfansince08love  @rileigh519   @wannabe-fic-reader  @hcartbyheart  @marvel-randomness  @thewitchandtheassassin  @username23345  @xixxiixx  @rebeliz777  @summergeezburr  @frostedfavesmain  @higherfurther-romanova @sapphicluxanna @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @an-evergreen-rose

[magma-queen]

This is for those (including me) who have insecurities about their body ❤️ you are beautiful no matter what! And don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise!

Also this is a little angsty, but fluffy all throughout, so please enjoy!

Maxie sighed, looking at himself in the mirror. He had taken his shirt off, but he become insecure about his body. He started checking and observing his waistline carefully, because after a visit to the doctor, he found out he gained 3 pounds. Which, really.. isn’t much. But to him, it was.

“I can’t believe this.. I used to be as skinny as a twig… and now look at me…”

It scared him. Because Archie is so buff and has an amazing set of abs.. would he still love him if he was just a little bit on the chubby side?

“Hey, Max!” He heard Archie calling him from downstairs. “Are ye up there? Dinner is almost ready!”

He sighed again. After looking at himself, he really didn’t feel like eating.

“Y-yes! I’ll be down in a minute!”

He threw his shirt back on and slipped into his sweats. Once he came downstairs, and saw dinner, he started to feel sick. Not because of the food itself, but his insecurities took over.

“Max? Love? Ye alright?” Archie asks, looking up from his plate. “Ye haven’t really touched any of yer food.. are ye feelin’ okay?”

“Y-yes.. I’m fine..” He stuttered.

“Are ye sure? Ye look kinda pale..”

“No… I’m sorry, I’m really not feeling good..”

“Okay, I can just put it away and when yer feeling better, I can heat it up for ye.”

He looked down. “Y-yeah… sure.. that’s fine.”

Archie notices how upset he looked, he stood up. “Ye go and lay down on the couch, babe. I’ll finish cleaning up in here, then we can cuddle.. a tummy rub should help that bellyache… that sound good?”

*smile* “O-okay.”

After Archie was finished, he came over and laid down next to Maxie, who seemed to be asleep.

“Babe? Max?”

“Mmmm?”

He smiles at him, hugging him close. “Are ye feelin’ a little better?”

“A little…”

Archie started to rise up. “So, did ye wanna finish eating-?”

“N-No! I mean.. no.. m-my stomach still hurts.”

Archie could tell that something was bothering him. But he didn’t know what. “Max.. is there something else goin’ on? Ye’ve been actin’ a little weird these past couple days.. Ye’ve barely eaten anything.”

“I just don’t feel like eating..” He argued. “My stomach is killing me…”

Somehow, his husband didn’t believe him.

“Maxie… ye can tell me if there’s somethin’ else bothering ye.”

Maxie started getting defensive. “Th-there isn’t! I’m fine.. ok?”

That’s when he heard his stomach growl.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe ye… ye should know by now that when something is bothering ye… ye get quiet and defensive when asked. Baby, just tell me.. and I’ll try to make it better.”

The redhead looked down at the floor, tears forming in his eyes.

“Max? Hey… Don’t cry…” Archie embraces him. “Tell me what’s going on, love…”

Before he could explain anything, he sat there sobbing into Archie’s shoulder for about 5 minutes, he tried his best to comfort him.

“Shh… shh… now, tell me what’s the matter..”

He lifted his head up, looking at Archie straight in his eyes. “H-how much do you love me?”

The team Aqua leader looked at him with much confusion on his face. “Babe.. I love ye more than anything else in this world! Ye should know that. Where’s this comin’ from?”

He ignored him and continued. “W-would you still love me.. even if I’ve put on a couple of pounds…?”

Archie looks at him with total shock. The realization hit him. He takes his shoulders.

“Maxie…. Is THAT why ye haven’t been eating? No no no…. Of course I would still love ye… stop talkin’ nonsense…”

“But Archie-“

“No. Ye have been skipping meals for 3 days in a row. I’m getting ye something right now.” He rose up and ran into the kitchen. After a few minutes, he brought out his dinner.

“Now, ye eat this right now. I know that yer hungry… I heard yer stomach growl..”

Maxie tried to argue. “But-“

“No buts.”

He gave up trying to argue and finished his food, quite in a hurry too. If he was telling the truth, he was starving.

Without a word, Archie took the dishes and put them away. When he came back, he sat down next to his husband and hugged him from the side.

“A-Archie, I-“

“Shh…” He nuzzled his arm. “Baby.. why on earth would ye think that I wouldn’t still love ye if ye put on a few pounds? Yer always gonna be me handsome hubby..”

He blushed. “But you have a much different build than I do… I thought.. that you would want someone who wasn’t starting to have a bigger belly…” He got extremely embarrassed. “I used to be so damn skinny…”

“Babe, ye still are skinny! So what if ye have a little bigger stomach..? I still love ye. And I’m always going to. Just how long have we been married?”

“8 years…”

“And how long have we known each other?”

“Since we were teenagers…”

“Which was..?”

“25 years ago..”

“Exactly. Ye should know by now that there is nothing on this planet that would ever make me stop loving ye..” He gave him a squeeze.

Maxie started to get even more emotional and covered his face in embarrassment before crying once more.

“Max, honey… come here… shh.. don’t cry…”

He held him even closer. He waited until Maxie finished crying before pinning him down onto the couch.

“Wh-what are you doing??” He sniffled.

“I’m gonna cheer ye up, that’s what I’m doin’.” He smiled, kissing his cheek. Then he lifted his shirt up, revealing his stomach. “Babe… what are ye even talking about?? Yer not even that chubby! Look..”

He took his hands and gave his stomach a squeeze, making the redhead jump and squirm.

“Nohohohoho!! W-Wahahait!”

“Yer still skin and bones, ye dork!” He chuckled, squeezing his stomach again. “Aww.. ticklish, are we? Goochie goochie goo! Awww.. so squishy! *squeeze*

“D-don’t! Don’t- ahahahahahahehehehe!!!” He squeaked when Archie began poking his belly. “Ahahaharchihihihie!!! Nohohohohoho!!!”

“Archie yes! Yer cute little tum tum is me new pillow now, and there’s nothing ye can say to make me change me mind!” He then blew a raspberry on his belly. “PFFFFFFFFT!!”

The redhead bursted into hysterics, desperately trying to wiggle away from his playful husband.

“AHAHAHAHARCHIHIHIHEHEHEEHEE!!!” He screeched, kicking his legs out. “WHAHAHAT THEHEHEHE HEHEHEHELL THAHAHAHAT TICKLEHEHEHEHES!!!”

“Aww, does it? Good.” He cooed, blowing another one. *inhale* “PFFFFFFFFT!!”

“STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIT!!!!” Maxie screamed, squirming back and forth crying tears of mirth.

Archie smirks at him and lays his head on his stomach, nuzzling the soft skin.

“Ahahahahaharchihihie!!! Thahahat stihihihill tihihihihickles!!! Y-yohohou’re beheheheard is- ahahahahahahahaha!!!!” He couldn’t comprehend words anymore. His giggles took over his mouth.

“Dawww…” Archie smiled, cooing at him. “Yer so fuckin adorable, babe..” *nuzzle* He presses a kiss to his stomach.

“Ahahahahaha!!! Nonononono- no kissing! Stahahahap! Ihihihi can’t breheheeeheeathe!”

“PFFFFFFFFFFFFT!”

*Squeal* STAHAHAHAHOHOHOP THAHAHAT!GOHOHOHOD DAHAHAMN IHIHIHIHIT!!! ARCHIHIHIEHEHEHEEHEE PLEHEHEHEASE!!!”

He ceases the raspberries, grabs a hold of his hips and gives them a squeeze, sending the redhead into a bigger fit of giggles.

“AHAHAHANAHAHAHOHOHO!!!!! *snort* AAHAHAHARCHIE NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!!!”

“Them hips don’t lie, hun~” He teased. “Oh, are ye ticklish here too? I’m so sorry~”

*squeeze*

“JEHEHEHESUS CHRIHIHIHIHIST ST-STAHAHAHA- AHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!”

He grabs and squeezes his thighs next. “Yer lovely thighs must not be ignored either. Now, are they ticklish too?”

Maxie’s face turned redder from the compliments.

“YEHEHEHEHES YEHEHEHEHEHES AHAHAHAHAH- DOHOHOHON’T SQUEHEHEHEEZE THEHEHEHEM!!!! IHIHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES!!!!”

“Why not?” Archie smirks. “It’s making ye laugh so hard! Ye seem to be havin’ fun!”*squeeze*

“NAHAHAHAHOHOHO!!! *snort* NOHOHOHOHOHO!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!!”

Archie raises his tickling fingers under his shirt and tickles his ribs.

“AHAHARCHIE WAIT!!!!”

“I can almost feel the bones in yer ribs, babe.. Hey! Stop squirming! Does it tickle that much?”

“ARCHIE PLEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOHOHOP!! *snort* IHIHIHI- IHIHI’M TOO TIHIHICKLISH FOHOHOHOR THIHIHIHIS!!!”

“Isn’t that the point, Max?” He goes to scribble his fingers at his belly. “Promise me that ye’ll stop skipping meals, and stop judging yerself when ye look in the mirror!”

“OKAYOKAYOKAYOKAY!! HAHAHAH- IHIHI PROHOHOMIHIHIHISE!! JUHUHUST STOHOP BEHEHEFORE I DIHIHIHIE!”

The pirate rolled his eyes playfully. “I don’t think death by laughter is a thing, hun.”

“AHAHAHARCHIEEEE!!!”

“Okay okay!” He cackled, letting Maxie drop back down on the couch, still giggling. Archie smiles at him and wipes the mirthful tears from his eyes. “Max, I love every part of ye. Inside, and out. No matter what yer weight is… I will always love ye with all of me heart.”

The redhead pulls his shirt down so he collapses on top of him. And their lips collided.

“Mmm~”

“Mm..”

He looks deep into Archie’s blue eyes. “Y-you’re going to make me cry again..”

“Aw, no… don’t cry..” His arms come around him. “I want ye to be happy.”

*kiss*

Archie held his cheek with shock.

“I am happy. Because I’m with you.”

The Team Aqua leader begins tearing up himself. “Max…”

“I meant what I said. I love you, Archie.”

“I-I love ye too!” He smothered him in a hug, crying into his chest.

They laid down together in bed, after rushing to their bedroom. Archie pounces on Maxie and lays his head down on his stomach.

“Really?” Maxie raised an eyebrow.

*smirk* “I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said yer belly is me new pillow..” He put his arms around his waist and nuzzles him close. “Yer so warm and soft~”

*blush*

Maxie chuckles and places his hand on Archie’s back, scratching it lightly, making the bigger man purr.

“Are you… purring? Are you my lap cat now? *snrk* You are such a dork…”

“Mmm.. but I’m yers.” The pirate cuddles even closer. “My god, I never wanna leave this spot.. can we stay like this tonight? Please?”

*chuckle* “Yes.. if that’s what you want. Just promise me something.”

“Mm?” Archie looks up at him.

“I.. Mm.. promise me that no matter what… that you’ll always love me.. no matter what I do.. I know you’ve already said it.. but..”

Archie squeezes him. “Babe, we’ve been over this! I will always love ye! Me love for ye is unconditional! I am extremely proud to be yer husband.. I love ye, Max..” He takes his hand and kisses it.

“A-Archie.. I.. I love you, too.” Maxie purrs, pulling his husband closer to his chest. “Son of a bitch.. I’m going to start crying again…” He wipes a tear away from his flushed face.

“Don’t cry, love.. I’ve gotcha.. me poor crybaby~ o-ouch!” He received a smack on the back from his redhead. “Heh.. sorry, hun.. bad nickname..”

“You think?” He blushed. “Y-you know that I don’t cry a lot…”

“Well, ye have been recently.. and I can’t stand it when yer upset.. *kiss* “Please promise me that ye’ll open up to me more about stuff that’s bothering ye.. ok?”

“O-ok.. I promise.”

Archie looks at him with a sly grin. “Are ye sure?” He pokes him in the side.

“Archie, don’t!”

He takes both of his hands and squeezes his sides. “Squeezy squeeze! Yer so cute, babe~ and I think ye need to be reminded of that~”

Maxie smacks his hands. “I-I- ahahaham not!”

Archie’s fingers dig into his sides. “Ye are! And I’ll tickle ye until ye admit it! Tickle tickle!”

“PFFFFT- AHAHAHA!! ARCHIE!! STOHOHOP!!!”

He smirks, tickling him faster. “Ye heard what I said. Ye either admit that yer me cute hubby, or Mr. Tickle Monster is gonna make ye!”

“AAAAAH- AHAHAHAHA!!! *snort* ARCHIE COHOHOHOME AHAHAHAHAN!!! TH-THIS IHIHIHIHISN’T NEHEHEHEHECESSARY!!”

The pirate raises his shirt back up. “Sure it is! Don’t make me get yer belly~ Yer gonna be sorry~”

Seeing that his husband was still being stubborn, he buries his face onto his belly and nuzzles him, giving him little nibbles.

“G-GAHAHAHAHA!!!! NONONONONO- AHAHAHAHA- AHAHAHARCHIHIHIEEEE!!! PLEHEHEHEASE NOT THAHAHAT!!! AAAAH- AHAHA IHIHIHI CAHAHAN’T BREATHE!!!”

*inhale* “PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT!”

“NONONONONONONO-NAHAHAHAHA!!!!” The redhead desperately tries to wiggle himself away, but he was trapped. LEHEHET MEHEHEHEHE GOHOHO I CAHAHAN’T TAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIHIT!!!”

“Ye gonna admit it, now?” Archie asks, lightly spidering his fingers at his stomach.

“Ahahahahahahaheheheheheeheheehee!! Nohohohoho!! *snort*”

“Wrong choice, Max. *inhale* PFFFFT!”

“AHAHAHAHA- OKAYOKAYOKAYOKAY- NAHAHAHAHOHOHOHO- HEHEHEHE- I’M- IHIHIHIHI’M CUHUHUHUHUHUTE-! PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!!!”

Cackling, Archie stopped his assault. He adjusted his husband’s askewed glasses and wiped away his mirthful tears. He gave his stomach a few more pokes, making him whine while giggling and smack his hand away.

“Stohohohop ihihit!” Maxie wiggles away from him but Archie traps him in his arms. He hugs him extremely tight.

“Mmmm… Max.. I love ye.. *kiss* Please don’t be mad at me for tryin’ to cheer ye up~ and….. I really wanted to hear yer laugh once more~ Forgive me, sugar?”

“Mmmmph..” The other pouted, laying his head onto Archie’s shoulder. “I forgive you.. this time.” His arms came around Archie’s waist. “Mm… once I get my energy back, heh.. you’re dead. But right now, you’ve completely tired me out..”

“Yer welcome.” He snickers, kissing his cheek. “I love ye, baby… gimme a kiss?”

“Do you deserve one..?” Maxie said teasingly.

“Yes~”

“I really don’t think you do, after you just tickled me to death.”

Archie clung to him and whined. “But Maaax…”

“Whining doesn’t help your case, darling.”

He pecked at his cheek. “Pleeeeease? I promise I won’t tickle ye for the rest of the evening.” He put his hand up. “Please?”

“Oh, for the love of- just kiss me, you moron~”

Their lips were put together in a sweet kiss. Then, they finally died down and fell asleep. While his insecurities still remained, Maxie knew that his husband would love him no matter what.

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

Adrenaline

L!Joker/Patrick/Eric Draven/reader

Warnings: mentions of death

Note: this wasn't edited i just wrote it and bam posted. This was an idea given to me by @whoslaughingnow-comic while talking about Eric and my two other boys.

(Not my gif)

You had been dating Eric for about 2 years when he was brutality murdered in his apartment on Devil's night.

His death hit you like nothing else had. You felt terribly lonely and missed his loveing embrace. You had a few of his belongings which he had left in your appartment the night before; his guitar, a pic and one of his shirts.

In the weeks of his absence you had turned the pic into a necklace and wore it everywhere. Eventually it became apart of you, never taking it off.

As you tried to move on, you couldn't. Everywhere you went you were reminded of him. The old club you went to to see his band play, the coffee shop where you had your first date, the record shop where you met and eneded up going to every week.

Then there was your apartment. You had everything in boxes, seeing as you were to move in together that week. Too lazy were you to take everything out, yet it hurt to see the boxes piled high.

2 months went by when you decided to move to the other side of Gotham. A nicer area, a bit farther from the dangers of the mob. You eventually settled into the area falling into a routine, enjoying the local pub, going to cafe, and working at the record shop.

One night while you were at the pub you meet a young man named Patrick Verona. He wasn't hitting on you or trying to get your attention, no. He had asked you about the band on your shirt. The two of you talked for a while about music, movies and city life. Eventually he asked you to dance while Plainsong played in the background.

You couldn't help but smile as you danced with him. How could you not? He had the biggest smile you had ever seen!

As the night drew to a close Patrick insisted on walking you home, "It's the right thing to do." All along the way you didn't stop smiling, though in the back of your mind you worried if it was a trap. Ignoring that thought you enjoyed his company until you got to your apartment. That night you gave him your number and agreed to a first date.

As you entered your apartment smiling you frowned when you saw the gutar next to the sofa. "What would Eric think?" You wondered, "would he want me to move on?" That night for the first time in 5 months you desided not to sleep with his shirt. That night you desided to move on.

After sleeping over one night Patrick asked you about the necklace.

"Is it a lucky charm?"

"Yes...and no... It was given to me by somone I loved."

"I see," he smiled and kissed you. "Did they give you the guitar too?" You nodded.

As time went by you and Patrick were a happy couple. Though the guilt of Eric hit you at times; somtimes it was the guilt of hiding him from Patrick, other times it was the guilt you felt for loving Patrick. Those were the times you would take out his shirt and hold it tight. How it still meant so much to you with almost a year having gone by.

By the aniverseray of Eric's death, you still hadn't told Patrick about Eric. You decided that you would have them meet.

You were nervous about it. "What if Pat dosent understand...what if he gets upset." It was the day before your trip when you tell him. At first he's shocked and asks you why you hadn't told him. You explain that you were afraid he would leave you,that it would scare him away. As you told Patrick more, you can't help but cry. He held you close to him, as he rubbed your back. He had lost a few people close to him as well, but he couldn't imagine losing a partner. He could hear the love as you talked about Eric. Patric could also tell that you loved him the same way.

As you went to bed Patrick held you close to him and kissed your head.

The next day you both headed to the subway, making your way towards the east side of Gotham. Once you both arrived you showed Patrick around the area where you used to live. It was so strange being there with Patrick. You were over come with emotions as you passed the boarded up apartment building Eric used to live in. You held Patrick's hand as tightly as you could, holding back tears. Once you arrive at the graveyard, Patrick tells you to go in first and have a moment alone. Greatfully, you head towards his grave only to find an empty pit and a headstone with a crow sitting upon it.

Fearfully you call out to Patrick who comes running over to you. Both staring at the grave you both stand there dumb founded. All you can hear is the quiet echo of the city and the soft piter pater of rain.

A voice in a whisper breaks the silence. "Y/n?" You heard it and turned to see Eric. Seeing you move Patrick turns to see him. The three of you stand there staring at one another for what feels like an hour.

"E-eric? Your-your dead....ho-how...?" You say as you approach him, ever so slowly. "Y/n..." He said as he quickly aproached you huging you for the first time in a year. As he sees the tears in your eyes he wipes them away.

"I don't know what I am. All I know is that I'm back here." Is the response you receive from your previous question.

You slowly break away from the hug, sadly, as you look over to Patrick. "Th-This is Patrick. He's-he's my uh, boyfriend." Patrick nods shakily walking over to you. "Nice to uh, meet you mate." He says shaking his hand.

Eric lead you both to his apartment explaining what he knows. He wants revenge on those who killed him and tore him from his love. You gave a sad smile as you walked into the scorched apartment, seeing a few salvageable items.

You were quick to pick up a polaroid of the two of you cuddleing close. Patrick couldn't help but smile at it when he looked over your shoulder. Eric smiled as well, knowing which picture you were looking at.

You lead Patrick towards a singed black sofa and sat down listening to more of what Eric had to say. He had yet to meet a man by the name of Joker. A man who played by his own rules and was stealing money from the mob. A rumor was going around that he had offered to kill Batman for the mob.

Patrick frowned, he didn't like the idea of revenge, no matter how horrible those people were. Patrick didn't like how violent vigilantes could be, and by the sounds of it, Eric was rather violent. Especially as he heard the tale of how the gangster T-Bird died.

You on the other hand agreed. You felt that justice was finnaly being served. You were glad that your Eric was being a hero and helping to remove the scum of Gotham.

Slowly the conversation went from dark to light as Eric began to ask both of you questions. Eric had originally been taken aback when he saw Patrick with you, but was starting to warm up to him seeing that he truly did love you. As Eric asked more questions Patrick did too. Both men were curious of the other, and were quickly trusting one another.

It made you smile so brightly to see them getting to know one another without any sort of malice.

As night began to approach Patrick was the one who had to tell you that you needed to head home before it got too dark. When you began to protest Eric was quick to agree with Patrick telling you that it wouldn't be the last time you saw him. Despite how badly you wanted to stay, you began to follow Patrick out and started making your way home.

Halfway you began to notice a single black crow following the two of you. When you told Patrick he smiled telling you it must be a sign from Eric, to keep the two of you safe.

Later that night when you your arrived home you found a record from his band on the counter. Neither of you knew how it got there, but you were happy to have it.

After that day the two of you often found small presents from Eric. You also would receive random visits from Eric which slowly began to fall into a routine. Though his visits slowly became became longer and longer.

Eventually he started staying with the two of you. When he wasn't hunting out the evils of Gotham, he was sleeping on the sofa, often without either of you knowing.

When Patrick finds out he suggests that he alternates nights. At first Eric opposes this idea, not wanting to leave either of you unprotected. Though he ended up agreeing to alternate with Pat to sleep in bed. On the nights Pat slept on the sofa, Eric's crow would watch over him; allowing Eric to feel at ease with his decision.

One night you and Pat awoke to a loud thud. Thinking it was Eric coming home from his work, you told Patrick to go back to sleep, and you headed towards the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen you can't help but laugh at the color of his hair and coat. Unlike his ussual black attire he was wearing a purple trench coat and had his hair died green. At the sound of your laughter Eric stood up from the fridge abd as he turned you stoped laughing.

The man before you was not Eric, but rather a stranger. White, black, and red grease paint covered his face making him look even more menicing. Not to mention the feirce scars that created a permanent smile, did little to keep you calm.

"Boo." Was all he said to have you running and screaming for Patrick and Eric.

Eric arrived just in time to see you running into the bedroom and to hear the laughing in the kitchen. Eric steadily headed towards the kitchen. He frowned as he saw the clown before him.

"J..."

"Now I know why you said Boo!" J said in between bursts of laughter.

"I told you not to scare them."

Patrick of course hearing all the commotion, walked in with you trembling in his arms.

"Whose this? Howd-"

"This is the one I told you about. This is Joker. He's helping me with the mob."

Patrick looked up at him. "How? I heard he was robbing banks."

"Not just any banks, koala, but the mob's banks." Joker said as his laughing finnially died down. "It's a pleasure to meet you both." He said smiling like a toddler.

Eric gave you a hug. "He's all bark and no bite around us. He won't hurt you."

He had you and Patrick return to bed while he and J stayed up and talked about the mob.

By morning the Joker was gone and you hadn't seen him until the next week, when he jumped out from behind the door and scared you.

Though as time went by you slowly began to get used to his jump scares. His vists to your apartment slowly became more frequent. Patrick, who still felt rather uneasy around him, was beginning to become used to his presence. For Patrick the clown reminded him of a crazier version of Eric.

Eric and Patrick had become rather close in the last few months. Both of whom began to get used to the idea of napping together.

Soon J followed suit, squishing Eric in the middle of the sofa.

For you, those moments were sweet, when your boys were together peacefully. No worries. No fighting. No plans. Just peace amongst them. Somthing that neither of them tended to bring to the table.

Over this time, you too, began to have a closer bond with the crazed clown. He had even began to call you Bunny, thanks to your first encounter.

With his help though, you began to learn how to throw knives, shoot guns, and build a bomb (not that it was needed). On the other hand Patrick didn't quiet agree with J on these leasons, why should anyone know how to build a bomb. Often you and Eric would break up the bickering between the two.

As more time went by the four of you began to fall into a strange relationship. One that was rather unconventional. But then again none of you were conventional.

[tisfan]

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From Joe Morice, daughters in 8th & 10th grade in Fairfax County Public Schools' Centreville Pyramid:

To our fellow FCPS families—this is it gang: 5 days until the 2 days in school vs. 100% virtual decision. Let’s talk it out, in my traditional mammoth TL/DR form.

Like all of you, I’ve seen my feed become a flood of anxiety and faux expertise. You’ll get no presumption of expertise here. This is how I am looking at and considering this issue and the positions people have taken in my feed and in the hundred or so FCPS discussion groups that have popped up. The lead comments in quotes are taken directly from my feed and those boards. Sometimes I try to rationalize them. Sometimes I’m just punching back at the void.

Full disclosure, we initially chose the 2 days option and are now having serious reservations. As I consider the positions and arguments I see in my feed, these are where my mind goes. Of note, when I started working on this piece at 12:19 PM today the COVID death tally in the United States stood at 133,420.

“My kids want to go back to school.”

I challenge that position. I believe what the kids desire is more abstract. I believe what they want is a return to normalcy. They want their idea of yesterday. And yesterday isn’t on the menu.

“I want my child in school so they can socialize.”

This was the principle reason for our 2 days decision. As I think more on it though, what do we think ‘social’ will look like? There aren’t going to be any lunch table groups, any lockers, any recess games, any study halls, any sitting next to friends, any talking to people in the hallway, any dances. All of that is off the menu. So, when we say that we want the kids to benefit from the social experience, what are we deluding ourselves into thinking in-building socialization will actually look like in the Fall?

“My kid is going to be left behind.”

Left behind who? The entire country is grappling with the same issue, leaving all children in the same quagmire. Who exactly would they be behind? I believe the rhetorical answer to that is “They’ll be behind where they should be,” to which I’ll counter that “where they should be” is a fictional goal post that we as a society have taken as gospel because it maps to standardized tests which are used to grade schools and counties as they chase funding.

“Classrooms are safe.”

At the current distancing guidelines from FCPS middle and high schools would have no more than 12 people (teachers + students) in a classroom (I acknowledge this number may change as FCPS considers the Commonwealth’s 3 ft with a mask vs. 6 ft position, noting that FCPS is all mask regardless of the distance). For the purpose of this discussion we’ll say classes run 45 minutes.

I posed the following question to 40 people today, representing professional and management roles in corporations, government agencies, and military commands: “Would your company or command have a 12 person, 45 minute meeting in a conference room?”

100% of them said no, they would not. These are some of their answers:

“No. Until further notice we are on Zoom.”

“(Our company) doesn’t allow us in (company space).”

“Oh hell no.”

“No absolutely not.”

“Is there a percentage lower than zero?”

“Something of that size would be virtual.”

We do not even consider putting our office employees into the same situation we are contemplating putting our children into. And let’s drive this point home: there are instances here when commanding officers will not put soldiers, ACTUAL SOLDIERS, into the kind of indoor environment we’re contemplating for our children. For me this is as close to a ‘kill shot’ argument as there is in this entire debate. How do we work from home because buildings with recycled air are not safe, because we don’t trust other people to not spread the virus, and then with the same breath send our children into buildings?

“Children only die .0016 of the time.”

First, conceding we’re an increasingly morally bankrupt society, but when did we start talking about children’s lives, or anyone’s lives, like this? This how the villain in movies talks about mortality, usually 10-15 minutes before the good guy kills him.

If you’re in this camp, and I acknowledge that many, many people are, I’m asking you to consider that number from a slightly different angle.

FCPS has 189,000 children. .0016 of that is 302. 302 dead children are the Calvary Hill you’re erecting your argument on. So, let’s agree to do this: stop presenting this as a data point. If this is your argument, I challenge you to have courage equal to your conviction. Go ahead, plant a flag on the internet and say, “Only 302 children will die.” No one will. That’s the kind action on social media that gets you fired from your job. And I trust our social media enclave isn’t so careless and irresponsible with life that it would even, for even a millisecond, enter any of your minds to make such an argument.

Considered another way: You’re presented with a bag with 189,000 $1 bills. You’re told that in the bag are 302 random bills, they look and feel just like all the others, but each one of those bills will kill you. Do you take the money out of the bag?

Same argument, applied to the 12,487 teachers in FCPS (per Wikipedia), using the ‘children’s multiplier’ of .0016 (all of us understanding the adult mortality rate is higher). That’s 20 teachers. That’s the number you’re talking about. It’s very easy to sit behind a keyboard and diminish and dismiss the risk you’re advocating other people assume. Take a breath and think about that.

If you want to advocate for 2 days a week, look, I’m looking for someone to convince me. But please, for the love of God, drop things like this from your argument. Because the people I know who’ve said things like this, I know they’re better people than this. They’re good people under incredible stress who let things slip out as their frustration boils over. So, please do the right thing and move on from this, because one potential outcome is that one day, you’re going to have to stand in front of St. Peter and answer for this, and that’s not going to be conversation you enjoy.

“Hardly any kids get COVID.”

(Deep sigh) Yes, that is statistically true as of this writing. But it is a cherry-picked argument because you’re leaving out an important piece.

One can reasonably argue that, due to the school closures in March, children have had the least EXPOSURE to COVID. In other words, closing schools was the one pandemic mitigation action we took that worked. There can be no discussion of the rate of diagnosis within children without also acknowledging they were among our fastest and most quarantined people. Put another way, you cannot cite the effect without acknowledging the cause.

“The flu kills more people every year.”

(Deep sigh). First of all, no, it doesn’t. Per the CDC, United States flu deaths average 20,000 annually. COVID, when I start writing here today, has killed 133,420 in six months.

And when you mention the flu, do you mean the disease that, if you’re suspected of having it, everyone, literally everyone in the country tells you stay the f- away from other people? You mean the one where parents are pretty sure their kids have it but send them to school anyway because they have a meeting that day, the one that every year causes massive f-ing outbreaks in schools because schools are petri dishes and it causes kids to miss weeks of school and leaves them out of sports and band for a month? That one? Because you’re right - the flu kills people every year. It does, but you’re ignoring the why. It’s because there are people who are a--holes who don’t care about infecting other people. In that regard it’s a perfect comparison to COVID.

“Almost everyone recovers.”

You’re confusing “release from the hospital” and “no longer infected” with “recovered.” I’m fortunate to only know two people who have had COVID. One my age and one my dad’s age. The one my age described it as “absolute hell” and although no longer infected cannot breathe right. The one my dad’s age was in the hospital for 13 weeks, had to have a trach ring put in because she could no longer be on a ventilator, and upon finally getting home and being faced with incalculable time in rehab told my mother, “I wish I had died.”

While I’m making every effort to reach objectivity, on this particular point, you don’t know what the f- you’re talking about.

“If people get sick, they get sick.”

First, you mistyped. What you intended to say was “If OTHER people get sick, they get sick.” And shame on you.

“I’m not going to live my life in fear.”

You already live your life in fear. For your health, your family’s health, your job, your retirement, terrorists, extremists, one political party or the other being in power, the new neighbors, an unexpected home repair, the next sunrise. What you meant to say was, “I’m not prepared to add ANOTHER fear,” and I’ve got news for you: that ship has sailed. It’s too late. There are two kinds of people, and only two: those that admit they’re afraid, and those that are lying to themselves about it.

As to the fear argument, fear is the reason you wait up when your kids stay out late, it’s the reason you tell your kids not to dive in the shallow water, to look both ways before crossing the road. Fear is the respect for the wide world that we teach our children. Except in this instance, for reasons no one has been able to explain to me yet.

“FCPS leadership sucks.”

I will summarize my view of the School Board thusly: if the 12 of you aren’t getting into a room together because it represents a risk, don’t tell me it’s OK for our kids. I understand your arguments, that we need the 2 days option for parents who can’t work from home, kids who don’t have internet or computer access, kids who needs meals from the school system, kids who need extra support to learn, and most tragically for kids who are at greater risk of abuse by being home. All very serious, all very real issues, all heartbreaking. No argument.

But you must first lead by example. Because you’re failing when it comes to optics. All your meetings are online. What our children see is all of you on a Zoom telling them it’s OK for them to be exactly where you aren’t. I understand you’re not PR people, but you really should think about hiring some.

“I talked it over with my kids.”

Let’s put aside for a moment the concept of adults effectively deferring this decision to children, the same children who will continue to stuff things into a full trash can rather than change it out. Yes, those hygienic children.

Listen, my 15 year old daughter wants a sport car, which she’s not getting next year because it would be dangerous to her and to others. Those kinds of decisions are our job. We step in and decide as parents, we don’t let them expose themselves to risks because their still developing and screen addicted brains narrow their understanding of cause and effect.

We as parents and adults serve to make difficult decisions. Sometimes those are in the form of lessons, where we try to steer kids towards the right answer and are willing to let them make a mistake in the hopes of teaching better decision making the next time around. This is not one of those moments. The stakes are too high for that. This is a “the adults are talking” moment. Kids are not mature enough for this moment. That is not an attack on your child. It is a broad statement about all children. It is true of your children and it was true when we were children. We need to be doing that thinking here, and “Johnny wants to see Bobby at school” cannot be the prevailing element in the equation.

“The teachers need to do their job.”

How is it that the same society which abruptly shifted to virtual students only three months ago, and offered glowing endorsements of teachers stating, “we finally understand how difficult your job is,” has now shifted to “screw you, do your job.” There are myriad problems with that position but for the purposes of this piece let’s simply go with, “You’re not looking for a teacher, you’re looking for the babysitter you feel your property tax payment entitles you to.”

“Teachers have a greater chance to being killed by a car than they do of dying from COVID.”

(Eye roll) Per the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS), the U.S. see approximately 36,000 auto fatalities a year. Again, there have been 133,420 COVID deaths in the United States through 12:09 July 10, 2020. So no, they do not have a great chance of being killed in a car accident.

And, if you want to take the actual environment into consideration, the odds of a teacher being killed in a car accident in their classroom, you know, the environment we’re actually talking about, that’s right around 0%.

“If the grocery store workers can be onsite what are the teachers afraid of?”

(Deep breath) A grocery store worker, who absolutely risks exposure, has either six feet of space or a plexiglass shield between them and individual adult customers who can grasp their own mortality whose transactions can be completed in moments, in a 40,000 SF space.

A teacher is with 11 ‘customers’ who have not an inkling what mortality is, for 45 minutes, in a 675 SF space, six times a day.

Just stop.

“Teachers are choosing remote because they don’t want to work.”

(Deep breaths) Many teachers are opting to be remote. That is not a vacation. They’re requesting to do their job at a safer site. Just like many, many people who work in buildings with recycled air have done. And likely the building you’re not going into has a newer and better serviced air system than our schools.

Of greater interest to me is the number of teachers choosing the 100% virtual option for their children. The people who spend the most time in the buildings are the same ones electing not to send their children into those buildings. That’s something I pay attention to.

“I wasn’t prepared to be a parent 24/7” and “I just need a break.”

I truly, deeply respect that honesty. Truth be told, both arguments have crossed my mind. Pre COVID, I routinely worked from home 1 – 2 days a week. The solace was nice. When I was in the office, I had an actual office, a room with a door I could close, where I could focus. During the quarantine that hasn’t always been the case. I’ve been frustrated, I’ve been short, I’ve gone to just take a drive and get the hell away for a moment and been disgusted when one of the kids sees me and asks me to come for a ride, robbing me of those minutes of silence. You want to hear silence. I get it. I really, really do.

Here’s another version of that, admittedly extreme. What if one of our kids becomes one of the 302? What’s that silence going to sound like? What if you have one of those matted frames where you add the kid’s school picture every year? What if you don’t get to finish the pictures?

“What does your gut tell you to do?”

Shawn and I have talked ad infinitum about all of these and other points. Two days ago, at mid-discussion I said, “Stop, right now, gut answer, what is it,” and we both said, “virtual.”

A lot of the arguments I hear people making for the 2 days sound like we’re trying to talk ourselves into ignoring our instincts, they are almost exclusively, “We’re doing 2 days, but…”. There’s a fantastic book by Gavin de Becker, The Gift of Fear, which I’ll minimize for you thusly: your gut instinct is a hardwired part of your brain and you should listen to it. In the introduction he talks about elevators, and how, of all living things, humans are the only ones that would voluntarily get into a soundproof steel box with a potential predator just so they could skip a flight of stairs.

I keep thinking that the 2 days option is the soundproof steel box. I welcome, damn, beg, anyone to convince me otherwise.

At the time I started writing at 12:09 PM, 133,420 Americans had died from COVID. Upon completing this draft at 7:04 PM, that number rose to 133,940.

520 Americans died of COVID while I was working on this. In seven hours.

The length of a school day.

[path-of-my-childhood]

The Rolling Stone Interview: Taylor Swift

By: Brian Hiatt for The Rolling Stone Magazine Date: September 18th 2019

In her most in-depth and introspective interview in years, Swift tells all about the rocky road to 'Lover' and much, much more.

Taylor Swift bursts into her mom’s Nashville kitchen, smiling, looking remarkably like Taylor Swift. (That red-lip, classic thing? Check.) “I need someone to help dye my hair pink,” she says, and moments later, her ends match her sparkly nail polish, sneakers, and the stripes on her button-down. It’s all in keeping with the pastel aesthetic of her new album, Lover; black-leather combat-Taylor from her previous album cycle has handed back the phone. Around the black-granite kitchen island, all is calm and normal, as Swift’s mom, dad, and younger brother pass through. Her mom’s two dogs, one very small, one very large, pounce upon visitors with slurping glee. It could be any 29-year-old’s weekend visit with her parents, if not for the madness looming a few feet down the hall.

In an airy terrace, 113 giddy, weepy, shaky, still-in-disbelief fans are waiting for the start of one of Swift’s secret sessions, sacred rituals in Swift-dom. She’s about to play them her seventh album, as-yet unreleased on this Sunday afternoon in early August, and offer copious commentary. Also, she made cookies. Just before the session, Swift sits down in her mom’s study (where she “operates the Google,” per her daughter) to chat for a few minutes. The black-walled room is decorated with black-and-white classic-rock photos, including shots of Bruce Springsteen and, unsurprisingly, James Taylor; there are also more recent shots of Swift posing with Kris Kristofferson and playing with Def Leppard, her mom’s favorite band.

In a corner is an acoustic guitar Swift played as a teenager. She almost certainly wrote some well-known songs on it, but can’t recall which ones. “It would be kind of weird to finish a song and be like, ‘And this moment, I shall remember,’'” she says, laughing. “‘This guitar hath been anointed with my sacred tuneage!'”

The secret session itself is, as the name suggests, deeply off-the-record; it can be confirmed that she drank some white wine, since her glass pops up in some Instagram pictures. She stays until 5 a.m., chatting and taking photos with every one of the fans. Five hours later, we continue our talk at length in Swift’s Nashville condo, in almost exactly the same spot where we did one of our interviews for her 2012 Rolling Stone cover story. She’s hardly changed its whimsical decor in the past seven years (one of the few additions is a pool table replacing the couch where we sat last time), so it’s an old-Taylor time capsule. There’s still a huge bunny made of moss in one corner, and a human-size birdcage in the living room, though the view from the latter is now of generic new condo buildings instead of just distant green hills. Swift is barefoot now, in pale-blue jeans and a blue button-down tied at the waist; her hair is pulled back, her makeup minimal.

How to sum up the past three years of Taylor Swift? In July 2016, after Swift expressed discontent with Kanye West’s “Famous,” Kim Kardashian did her best to destroy her, unleashing clandestine recordings of a phone conversation between Swift and West. In the piecemeal audio, Swift can be heard agreeing to the line “…me and Taylor might still have sex.” We don’t hear her learning about the next lyric, the one she says bothered her — “I made that bitch famous” — and as she’ll explain, there’s more to her side of the story. The backlash was, well, swift, and overwhelming. It still hasn’t altogether subsided. Later that year, Swift chose not to make an endorsement in the 2016 election, which definitely didn’t help. In the face of it all, she made Reputation — fierce, witty, almost-industrial pop offset by love songs of crystalline beauty — and had a wildly successful stadium tour. Somewhere in there, she met her current boyfriend, Joe Alwyn, and judging by certain songs on Lover, the relationship is serious indeed.

Lover is Swift’s most adult album, a rebalancing of sound and persona that opens doors to the next decade of her career; it’s also a welcome return to the sonic diversity of 2012’s Red, with tracks ranging from the St. Vincent-assisted über-bop “Cruel Summer” to the unbearably poignant country-fied “Soon You’ll Get Better” (with the Dixie Chicks) and the “Shake It Off”-worthy pep of “Paper Rings.”

She wants to talk about the music, of course, but she is also ready to explain the past three years of her life, in depth, for the first time. The conversation is often not a light one. She’s built up more armor in the past few years, but still has the opposite of a poker face — you can see every micro-emotion wash over her as she ponders a question, her nose wrinkling in semi-ironic offense at the term “old-school pop stars,” her preposterously blue eyes glistening as she turns to darker subjects. In her worst moments, she says, “You feel like you’re being completely pulled into a riptide. So what are you going to do? Splash a lot? Or hold your breath and hope you somehow resurface? And that’s what I did. And it took three years. Sitting here doing an interview — the fact that we’ve done an interview before is the only reason I’m not in a full body sweat.”

When we talked seven years ago, everything was going so well for you, and you were very worried that something would go wrong. Yeah, I kind of knew it would. I felt like I was walking along the sidewalk, knowing eventually the pavement was going to crumble and I was gonna fall through. You can’t keep winning and have people like it. People love “new” so much — they raise you up the flagpole, and you’re waving at the top of the flagpole for a while. And then they’re like, “Wait, this new flag is what we actually love.” They decide something you’re doing is incorrect, that you’re not standing for what you should stand for. You’re a bad example. Then if you keep making music and you survive, and you keep connecting with people, eventually they raise you a little bit up the flagpole again, and then they take you back down, and back up again. And it happens to women more than it happens to men in music.

It also happened to you a few times on a smaller scale, didn’t it? I’ve had several upheavals in my career. When I was 18, they were like, “She doesn’t really write those songs.” So my third album I wrote by myself as a reaction to that. Then they decided I was a serial dater — a boy-crazy man-eater — when I was 22. And so I didn’t date anyone for, like, two years. And then they decided in 2016 that absolutely everything about me was wrong. If I did something good, it was for the wrong reasons. If I did something brave, I didn’t do it correctly. If I stood up for myself, I was throwing a tantrum. And so I found myself in this endless mockery echo chamber. It’s just like — I have a brother who’s two and a half years younger, and we spent the first half of our lives trying to kill each other and the second half as best friends. You know that game kids play? I’d be like, “Mom, can I have some water?” And Austin would be like, “Mom, can I have some water?” And I’m like, “He’s copying me.” And he’d be like, “He’s copying me.” Always in a really obnoxious voice that sounds all twisted. That’s what it felt like in 2016. So I decided to just say nothing. It wasn’t really a decision. It was completely involuntary.

But you also had good things happen in your life at the same time — that’s part of Reputation. The moments of my true story on that album are songs like “Delicate,” “New Year’s Day,” “Call It What You Want,” “Dress.” The one-two punch, bait-and-switch of Reputation is that it was actually a love story. It was a love story in amongst chaos. All the weaponized sort of metallic battle anthems were what was going on outside. That was the battle raging on that I could see from the windows, and then there was what was happening inside my world — my newly quiet, cozy world that was happening on my own terms for the first time. . . . It’s weird, because in some of the worst times of my career, and reputation, dare I say, I had some of the most beautiful times — in my quiet life that I chose to have. And I had some of the most incredible memories with the friends I now knew cared about me, even if everyone hated me. The bad stuff was really significant and damaging. But the good stuff will endure. The good lessons — you realize that you can’t just show your life to people.

Meaning? I used to be like a golden retriever, just walking up to everybody, like, wagging my tail. “Sure, yeah, of course! What do you want to know? What do you need?” Now, I guess, I have to be a little bit more like a fox.

Do your regrets on that extend to the way the “girl squad” thing was perceived? Yeah, I never would have imagined that people would have thought, “This is a clique that wouldn’t have accepted me if I wanted to be in it.” Holy shit, that hit me like a ton of bricks. I was like, “Oh, this did not go the way that I thought it was going to go.” I thought it was going to be we can still stick together, just like men are allowed to do. The patriarchy allows men to have bro packs. If you’re a male artist, there’s an understanding that you have respect for your counterparts.

Whereas women are expected to be feuding with each other? It’s assumed that we hate each other. Even if we’re smiling and photographed together with our arms around each other, it’s assumed there’s a knife in our pocket.

How much of a danger was there of falling into that thought pattern yourself? The messaging is dangerous, yes. Nobody is immune, because we’re a product of what society and peer groups and now the internet tells us, unless we learn differently from experience.

You once sang about a star who “took the money and your dignity, and got the hell out.” In 2016, you wrote in your journal, “This summer is the apocalypse.” How close did you come to quitting altogether? I definitely thought about that a lot. I thought about how words are my only way of making sense of the world and expressing myself — and now any words I say or write are being twisted against me. People love a hate frenzy. It’s like piranhas. People had so much fun hating me, and they didn’t really need very many reasons to do it. I felt like the situation was pretty hopeless. I wrote a lot of really aggressively bitter poems constantly. I wrote a lot of think pieces that I knew I’d never publish, about what it’s like to feel like you’re in a shame spiral. And I couldn’t figure out how to learn from it. Because I wasn’t sure exactly what I did that was so wrong. That was really hard for me, because I cannot stand it when people can’t take criticism. So I try to self-examine, and even though that’s really hard and hurts a lot sometimes, I really try to understand where people are coming from when they don’t like me. And I completely get why people wouldn’t like me. Because, you know, I’ve had my insecurities say those things — and things 1,000 times worse.

But some of your former critics have become your friends, right? Some of my best friendships came from people publicly criticizing me and then it opening up a conversation. Hayley Kiyoko was doing an interview and she made an example about how I get away with singing about straight relationships and people don’t give me shit the way they give her shit for singing about girls — and it’s totally valid. Like, Ella — Lorde — the first thing she ever said about me publicly was a criticism of my image or whatever. But I can’t really respond to someone saying, “You, as a human being, are fake.” And if they say you’re playing the victim, that completely undermines your ability to ever verbalize how you feel unless it’s positive. So, OK, should I just smile all the time and never say anything hurts me? Because that’s really fake. Or should I be real about how I’m feeling and have valid, legitimate responses to things that happened to me in my life? But wait, would that be playing the victim?

How do you escape that mental trap? Since I was 15 years old, if people criticized me for something, I changed it. So you realize you might be this amalgamation of criticisms that were hurled at you, and not an actual person who’s made any of these choices themselves. And so I decided I needed to live a quiet life, because a quiet personal life invites no discussion, dissection, and debate. I didn’t realize I was inviting people to feel they had the right to sort of play my life like a video game.

“The old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Because she’s dead!” was funny — but how seriously should we take it? There’s a part of me that definitely is always going to be different. I needed to grow up in many ways. I needed to make boundaries, to figure out what was mine and what was the public’s. That old version of me that shares unfailingly and unblinkingly with a world that is probably not fit to be shared with? I think that’s gone. But it was definitely just, like, a fun moment in the studio with me and Jack [Antonoff] where I wanted to play on the idea of a phone call — because that’s how all of this started, a stupid phone call I shouldn’t have picked up.

It would have been much easier if that’s what you’d just said. It would have been so, so great if I would have just said that [laughs].

Some of the Lover iconography does suggest old Taylor’s return, though. I don’t think I’ve ever leaned into the old version of myself more creatively than I have on this album, where it’s very, very autobiographical. But also moments of extreme catchiness and moments of extreme personal confession.

Did you do anything wrong from your perspective in dealing with that phone call? Is there anything you regret? The world didn’t understand the context and the events that led up to it. Because nothing ever just happens like that without some lead-up. Some events took place to cause me to be pissed off when he called me a bitch. That was not just a singular event. Basically, I got really sick of the dynamic between he and I. And that wasn’t just based on what happened on that phone call and with that song — it was kind of a chain reaction of things.

I started to feel like we reconnected, which felt great for me — because all I ever wanted my whole career after that thing happened in 2009 was for him to respect me. When someone doesn’t respect you so loudly and says you literally don’t deserve to be here — I just so badly wanted that respect from him, and I hate that about myself, that I was like, “This guy who’s antagonizing me, I just want his approval.” But that’s where I was. And so we’d go to dinner and stuff. And I was so happy, because he would say really nice things about my music. It just felt like I was healing some childhood rejection or something from when I was 19. But the 2015 VMAs come around. He’s getting the Vanguard Award. He called me up beforehand — I didn’t illegally record it, so I can’t play it for you. But he called me up, maybe a week or so before the event, and we had maybe over an hourlong conversation, and he’s like, “I really, really would like for you to present this Vanguard Award to me, this would mean so much to me,” and went into all the reasons why it means so much, because he can be so sweet. He can be the sweetest. And I was so stoked that he asked me that. And so I wrote this speech up, and then we get to the VMAs and I make this speech and he screams, “MTV got Taylor Swift up here to present me this award for ratings!” [His exact words: “You know how many times they announced Taylor was going to give me the award ’cause it got them more ratings?”] And I’m standing in the audience with my arm around his wife, and this chill ran through my body. I realized he is so two-faced. That he wants to be nice to me behind the scenes, but then he wants to look cool, get up in front of everyone and talk shit. And I was so upset. He wanted me to come talk to him after the event in his dressing room. I wouldn’t go. So then he sent this big, big thing of flowers the next day to apologize. And I was like, “You know what? I really don’t want us to be on bad terms again. So whatever, I’m just going to move past this.” So when he gets on the phone with me, and I was so touched that he would be respectful and, like, tell me about this one line in the song.

The line being “. . . me and Taylor might still have sex”? [Nods] And I was like, “OK, good. We’re back on good terms.” And then when I heard the song, I was like, “I’m done with this. If you want to be on bad terms, let’s be on bad terms, but just be real about it.” And then he literally did the same thing to Drake. He gravely affected the trajectory of Drake’s family and their lives. It’s the same thing. Getting close to you, earning your trust, detonating you. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore because I get worked up, and I don’t want to just talk about negative shit all day, but it’s the same thing. Go watch Drake talk about what happened. [West denied any involvement in Pusha-T’s revelation of Drake’s child and apologized for sending “negative energy” toward Drake.]

When did you get to the place that’s described on the opening track of Lover, “I Forgot That You Existed”? It was sometime on the Reputation tour, which was the most transformative emotional experience of my career. That tour put me in the healthiest, most balanced place I’ve ever been. After that tour, bad stuff can happen to me, but it doesn’t level me anymore. The stuff that happened a couple of months ago with Scott [Borchetta] would have leveled me three years ago and silenced me. I would have been too afraid to speak up. Something about that tour made me disengage from some part of public perception I used to hang my entire identity on, which I now know is incredibly unhealthy.

What was the actual revelation? It’s almost like I feel more clear about the fact that my job is to be an entertainer. It’s not like this massive thing that sometimes my brain makes it into, and sometimes the media makes it into, where we’re all on this battlefield and everyone’s gonna die except one person, who wins. It’s like, “No, do you know what? Katy is going to be legendary. Gaga is going to be legendary. Beyoncé is going to be legendary. Rihanna is going to be legendary. Because the work that they made completely overshadows the myopia of this 24-hour news cycle of clickbait.” And somehow I realized that on tour, as I was looking at people’s faces. We’re just entertaining people, and it’s supposed to be fun.

It’s interesting to look at these albums as a trilogy. 1989 was really a reset button. Oh, in every way. I’ve been very vocal about the fact that that decision was mine and mine alone, and it was definitely met with a lot of resistance. Internally.

After realizing that things were not all smiles with your former label boss, Scott Borchetta, it’s hard not to wonder how much additional conflict there was over things like that. A lot of the best things I ever did creatively were things that I had to really fight — and I mean aggressively fight — to have happen. But, you know, I’m not like him, making crazy, petty accusations about the past. . . . When you have a business relationship with someone for 15 years, there are going to be a lot of ups and a lot of downs. But I truly, legitimately thought he looked at me as the daughter he never had. And so even though we had a lot of really bad times and creative differences, I was going to hang my hat on the good stuff. I wanted to be friends with him. I thought I knew what betrayal felt like, but this stuff that happened with him was a redefinition of betrayal for me, just because it felt like it was family. To go from feeling like you’re being looked at as a daughter to this grotesque feeling of “Oh, I was actually his prized calf that he was fattening up to sell to the slaughterhouse that would pay the most.”

He accused you of declining the Parkland march and Manchester benefit show. Unbelievable. Here’s the thing: Everyone in my team knew if Scooter Braun brings us something, do not bring it to me. The fact that those two are in business together after the things he said about Scooter Braun — it’s really hard to shock me. And this was utterly shocking. These are two very rich, very powerful men, using $300 million of other people’s money to purchase, like, the most feminine body of work. And then they’re standing in a wood-panel bar doing a tacky photo shoot, raising a glass of scotch to themselves. Because they pulled one over on me and got this done so sneakily that I didn’t even see it coming. And I couldn’t say anything about it.

In some ways, on a musical level, Lover feels like the most indie-ish of your albums. That’s amazing, thank you. It’s definitely a quirky record. With this album, I felt like I sort of gave myself permission to revisit older themes that I used to write about, maybe look at them with fresh eyes. And to revisit older instruments — older in terms of when I used to use them. Because when I was making 1989, I was so obsessed with it being this concept of Eighties big pop, whether it was Eighties in its production or Eighties in its nature, just having these big choruses — being unapologetically big. And then Reputation, there was a reason why I had it all in lowercase. I felt like it wasn’t unapologetically commercial. It’s weird, because that is the album that took the most amount of explanation, and yet it’s the one I didn’t talk about. In the Reputation secret sessions I kind of had to explain to my fans, “I know we’re doing a new thing here that I’d never done before.” I’d never played with characters before. For a lot of pop stars, that’s a really fun trick, where they’re like, “This is my alter ego.” I had never played with that before. It’s really fun. And it was just so fun to play with on tour — the darkness and the bombast and the bitterness and the love and the ups and the downs of an emotional-turmoil record.

“Daylight” is a beautiful song. It feels like it could have been the title track. It almost was. I thought it might be a little bit too sentimental.

And I guess maybe too on-the-nose. Right, yeah, way too on-the-nose. That’s what I thought, because I was kind of in my head referring to the album as Daylight for a while. But Lover, to me, was a more interesting title, more of an accurate theme in my head, and more elastic as a concept. That’s why “You Need to Calm Down” can make sense within the theme of the album — one of the things it addresses is how certain people are not allowed to live their lives without discrimination just based on who they love.

For the more organic songs on this album, like “Lover” and “Paper Rings,” you said you were imagining a wedding band playing them. How often does that kind of visualization shape a song’s production style? Sometimes I’ll have a strange sort of fantasy of where the songs would be played. And so for songs like “Paper Rings” or “Lover” I was imagining a wedding-reception band, but in the Seventies, so they couldn’t play instruments that wouldn’t have been invented yet. I have all these visuals. For Reputation, it was nighttime cityscape. I didn’t really want any — or very minimal — traditional acoustic instruments. I imagined old warehouse buildings that had been deserted and factory spaces and all this industrial kind of imagery. So I wanted the production to have nothing wooden. There’s no wood floors on that album. Lover is, like, completely just a barn wood floor and some ripped curtains flowing in the breeze, and fields of flowers and, you know, velvet.

How did you come to use high school metaphors to touch on politics with “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince”? There are so many influences that go into that particular song. I wrote it a couple of months after midterm elections, and I wanted to take the idea of politics and pick a metaphorical place for that to exist. And so I was thinking about a traditional American high school, where there’s all these kinds of social events that could make someone feel completely alienated. And I think a lot of people in our political landscape are just feeling like we need to huddle up under the bleachers and figure out a plan to make things better.

I feel like your Fall Out Boy fandom might’ve slipped out in that title. I love Fall Out Boy so much. Their songwriting really influenced me, lyrically, maybe more than anyone else. They take a phrase and they twist it. “Loaded God complex/Cock it and pull it”? When I heard that, I was like, “I’m dreaming.”

You sing about “American stories burning before me.” Do you mean the illusions of what America is? It’s about the illusions of what I thought America was before our political landscape took this turn, and that naivete that we used to have about it. And it’s also the idea of people who live in America, who just want to live their lives, make a living, have a family, love who they love, and watching those people lose their rights, or watching those people feel not at home in their home. I have that line “I see the high-fives between the bad guys” because not only are some really racist, horrific undertones now becoming overtones in our political climate, but the people who are representing those concepts and that way of looking at the world are celebrating loudly, and it’s horrific.

You’re in this weird place of being a blond, blue-eyed pop star in this era — to the point where until you endorsed some Democratic candidates, right-wingers, and worse, assumed you were on their side. I don’t think they do anymore. Yeah, that was jarring, and I didn’t hear about that until after it had happened. Because at this point, I, for a very long time, I didn’t have the internet on my phone, and my team and my family were really worried about me because I was not in a good place. And there was a lot of stuff that they just dealt with without telling me about it. Which is the only time that’s ever happened in my career. I’m always in the pilot seat, trying to fly the plane that is my career in exactly the direction I want to take it. But there was a time when I just had to throw my hands up and say, “Guys, I can’t. I can’t do this. I need you to just take over for me and I’m just going to disappear.”

Are you referring to when a white-supremacist site suggested you were on their team? I didn’t even see that, but, like, if that happened, that’s just disgusting. There’s literally nothing worse than white supremacy. It’s repulsive. There should be no place for it. Really, I keep trying to learn as much as I can about politics, and it’s become something I’m now obsessed with, whereas before, I was living in this sort of political ambivalence, because the person I voted for had always won. We were in such an amazing time when Obama was president because foreign nations respected us. We were so excited to have this dignified person in the White House. My first election was voting for him when he made it into office, and then voting to re-elect him. I think a lot of people are like me, where they just didn’t really know that this could happen. But I’m just focused on the 2020 election. I’m really focused on it. I’m really focused on how I can help and not hinder. Because I also don’t want it to backfire again, because I do feel that the celebrity involvement with Hillary’s campaign was used against her in a lot of ways.

You took a lot of heat for not getting involved. Does any part of you regret that you just didn’t say “fuck it” and gotten more specific when you said to vote that November? Totally. Yeah, I regret a lot of things all the time. It’s like a daily ritual.

Were you just convinced that it would backfire? That’s literally what it was. Yeah. It’s a very powerful thing when you legitimately feel like numbers have proven that pretty much everyone hates you. Like, quantifiably. That’s not me being dramatic. And you know that.

There were a lot of people in those stadiums. It’s true. But that was two years later. . . . I do think, as a party, we need to be more of a team. With Republicans, if you’re wearing that red hat, you’re one of them. And if we’re going to do anything to change what’s happening, we need to stick together. We need to stop dissecting why someone’s on our side or if they’re on our side in the right way or if they phrased it correctly. We need to not have the right kind of Democrat and the wrong kind of Democrat. We need to just be like, “You’re a Democrat? Sick. Get in the car. We’re going to the mall.”

Here’s a hard question for you: As a superfan, what did you think of the Game of Thrones finale? Oh, my God. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. So, clinically our brain responds to our favorite show ending the same way we feel when a breakup occurs. I read that. There’s no good way for it to end. No matter what would have happened in that finale, people still would have been really upset because of the fact that it’s over.

I was glad to see you confirm that your line about a “list of names” was a reference to Arya. I like to be influenced by movies and shows and books and stuff. I love to write about a character dynamic. And not all of my life is going to be as kind of complex as these intricate webs of characters on TV shows and movies.

There was a time when it was. That’s amazing.

But is the idea that as your own life becomes less dramatic, you’ll need to pull ideas from other places? I don’t feel like that yet. I think I might feel like that possibly when I have a family. If I have a family. [Pauses] I don’t know why I said that! But that’s what I’ve heard from other artists, that they were very protective of their personal life, so they had to draw inspiration from other things. But again, I don’t know why I said that. Because I don’t know how my life is going to go or what I’m going to do. But right now, I feel like it’s easier for me to write than it ever was.

You don’t talk about your relationship, but you’ll sing about it in wildly revealing detail. What’s the difference for you? Singing about something helps you to express it in a way that feels more accurate. You cannot, no matter what, put words in a quote and have it move someone the same way as if you heard those words with the perfect sonic representation of that feeling... There is that weird conflict in being a confessional songwriter and then also having my life, you know, 10 years ago, be catapulted into this strange pop-culture thing.

I’ve heard you say that people got too interested in which song was about who, which I can understand — at the same time, to be fair, it was a game you played into, wasn’t it? I realized very early on that no matter what, that was going to happen to me regardless. So when you realize the rules of the game you’re playing and how it will affect you, you got to look at the board and make your strategy. But at the same time, writing songs has never been a strategic element of my career. But I’m not scared anymore to say that other things in my career, like how to market an album, are strictly strategic. And I’m sick of women not being able to say that they have strategic business minds — because male artists are allowed to. And so I’m sick and tired of having to pretend like I don’t mastermind my own business. But, it’s a different part of my brain than I use to write.

You’ve been masterminding your business since you were a teenager. Yeah, but I’ve also tried very hard — and this is one thing I regret — to convince people that I wasn’t the one holding the puppet strings of my marketing existence, or the fact that I sit in a conference room several times a week and come up with these ideas. I felt for a very long time that people don’t want to think of a woman in music who isn’t just a happy, talented accident. We’re all forced to kind of be like, “Aw, shucks, this happened again! We’re still doing well! Aw, that’s so great.” Alex Morgan celebrating scoring a goal at the World Cup and getting shit for it is a perfect example of why we’re not allowed to flaunt or celebrate, or reveal that, like, “Oh, yeah, it was me. I came up with this stuff.” I think it’s really unfair. People love new female artists so much because they’re able to explain that woman’s success. There’s an easy trajectory. Look at the Game of Thrones finale. I specifically really related to Daenerys’ storyline because for me it portrayed that it is a lot easier for a woman to attain power than to maintain it.

I mean, she did murder... It’s a total metaphor! Like, obviously I didn’t want Daenerys to become that kind of character, but in taking away what I chose to take away from it, I thought maybe they’re trying to portray her climbing the ladder to the top was a lot easier than maintaining it, because for me, the times when I felt like I was going insane was when I was trying to maintain my career in the same way that I ascended. It’s easier to get power than to keep it. It’s easier to get acclaim than to keep it. It’s easier to get attention than to keep it.

Well, I guess we should be glad you didn’t have a dragon in 2016... [Fiercely] I told you I don’t like that she did that! But, I mean, watching the show, though, maybe this is a reflection on how we treat women in power, how we are totally going to conspire against them and tear at them until they feel this — this insane shift, where you wonder, like, “What changed?” And I’ve had that happen, like, 60 times in my career where I’m like, “OK, you liked me last year, what changed? I guess I’ll change so I can keep entertaining you guys.”

You once said that your mom could never punish you when you were little because you’d punish yourself. This idea of changing in the face of criticism and needing approval — that’s all part of wanting to be good, right? Whatever that means. But that seems to be a real driving force in your life. Yeah, that’s definitely very perceptive of you. And the question posed to me is, if you kept trying to do good things, but everyone saw those things in a cynical way and assumed them to be done with bad motivation and bad intent, would you still do good things, even though nothing that you did was looked at as good? And the answer is, yes. Criticism that’s constructive is helpful to my character growth. Baseless criticism is stuff I’ve got to toss out now.

That sounds healthy. Is this therapy talking or is this just experience? No, I’ve never been to therapy. I talk to my mom a lot, because my mom is the one who’s seen everything. God, it takes so long to download somebody on the last 29 years of my life, and my mom has seen it all. She knows exactly where I’m coming from. And we talk endlessly. There were times when I used to have really, really, really bad days where we would just be on the phone for hours and hours and hours. I’d write something that I wanted to say, and instead of posting it, I’d just read it to her.

I somehow connect all this to the lyric in “Daylight,” the idea of “so many lines that I’ve crossed unforgiven” — it’s a different kind of confession. I am really glad you liked that line, because that’s something that does bother me, looking back at life and realizing that no matter what, you screw things up. Sometimes there are people that were in your life and they’re not anymore — and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t fix it, you can’t change it. I told the fans last night that sometimes on my bad days, I feel like my life is a pile of crap accumulated of only the bad headlines or the bad things that have happened, or the mistakes I’ve made or clichés or rumors or things that people think about me or have thought for the last 15 years. And that was part of the “Look What You Made Me Do” music video, where I had a pile of literal old selves fighting each other.

But, yeah, that line is indicative of my anxiety about how in life you can’t get everything right. A lot of times you make the wrong call, make the wrong decision. Say the wrong thing. Hurt people, even if you didn’t mean to. You don’t really know how to fix all of that. When it’s, like, 29 years’ worth.

To be Mr. “Rolling Stone” for a second, there’s a Springsteen lyric, “Ain’t no one leaving this world, buddy/Without their shirttail dirty or hands a little bloody.” That’s really good! No one gets through it unscathed. No one gets through in one piece. I think that’s a hard thing for a lot of people to grasp. I know it was hard for me, because I kind of grew up thinking, “If I’m nice, and if I try to do the right thing, you know, maybe I can just, like, ace this whole thing.” And it turns out I can’t.

It’s interesting to look at “I Did Something Bad” in this context. You pointing that out is really interesting because it’s something I’ve had to reconcile within myself in the last couple of years — that sort of “good” complex. Because from the time I was a kid I’d try to be kind, be a good person. Try really hard. But you get walked all over sometimes. And how do you respond to being walked all over? You can’t just sit there and eat your salad and let it happen. “I Did Something Bad” was about doing something that was so against what I would usually do. Katy [Perry] and I were talking about our signs. . . . [Laughs] Of course we were.

That’s the greatest sentence ever. [Laughs] I hate you. We were talking about our signs because we had this really, really long talk when we were reconnecting and stuff. And I remember in the long talk, she was like, “If we had one glass of white wine right now, we’d both be crying.” Because we were drinking tea. We’ve had some really good conversations.

We were talking about how we’ve had miscommunications with people in the past, not even specifically with each other. She’s like, “I’m a Scorpio. Scorpios just strike when they feel threatened.” And I was like, “Well, I’m an archer. We literally stand back, assess the situation, process how we feel about it, raise a bow, pull it back, and fire.” So it’s completely different ways of processing pain, confusion, misconception. And oftentimes I’ve had this delay in feeling something that hurts me and then saying that it hurts me. Do you know what I mean? And so I can understand how people in my life would have been like, “Whoa, I didn’t know that was how you felt.” Because it takes me a second.

If you watch the video of the 2009 VMAs, I literally freeze. I literally stand there. And that is how I handle any discomfort, any pain. I stand there, I freeze. And then five minutes later, I know how I feel. But in the moment, I’m probably overreacting and I should be nice. Then I process it, and in five minutes, if it’s gone, it’s past, and I’m like, “I was overreacting, everything’s fine. I can get through this. I’m glad I didn’t say anything harsh in the moment.” But when it’s actually something bad that happened, and I feel really, really hurt or upset about it, I only know after the fact. Because I’ve tried so hard to squash it: “This probably isn’t what you think.” That’s something I had to work on.

You could end up gaslighting yourself. Yeah, for sure. ’Cause so many situations where if I would have said the first thing that came to my mind, people would have been like, “Whoa!” And maybe I would have been wrong or combative. So a couple of years ago I started working on actually just responding to my emotions in a quicker fashion. And it’s really helped with stuff. It’s helped so much because sometimes you get in arguments. But conflict in the moment is so much better than combat after the fact.

Well, thanks. I do feel like I just did a therapy session. As someone who’s never been to therapy, I can safely say that was the best therapy session.

[vanosslirious]

Ask #69

Vanoss 5. Moo 2. Brian 9. Scotty 3. Tyler 4. Marcel 9. Nogla 9. Panda 6. Kryoz 4. Smii7y 1.

If that works, please 😊

Sorry for taking so long to write this. :/ A lot going on lately.

PROMPTS:

Vanoss: Alright, boys, let’s continue this mission.

Moo: I’m only here for the pumpkins.

Terroriser: Hey, this is totally normal.

Fourzer0seven: He looks fucking clueless.

I AM WILDCAT: That’s what I was trying to tell you guys.

BasicallyIDoWrk: Oh shit, he’s on the roof.

Daithi De Nogla: This is real bad.

BigJigglyPanda: Totally worth it.

Kryoz: Ah, it’s moving.

SMii7y: What are you going to do now?

//

Fandom: Banana Bus Squad.

Characters: Vanossgaming. I Am Wildcat. The Terroriser. Moo Snuckel. Daithi de Nogla. BigJigglyPanda. SMii7y. Kryoz. BasicallyIDoWrk. Fourzer0seven. H2ODelirious.

Wc: 3.2k

Disclaimer: Mild Hitman/Assassin AU. RPF. Friendship. Best friends. Swearing. Mystery. Arguing amongst each other. Fluff. Humor. Sarcasm. Murder. Blood. Mild gore. Looking for missing friend. They’re all somewhat desensitized because of their profession. Not as edited. Not beta read. There might be errors. Requested fic by anon. I hope you enjoy. :D

. . .

He would’ve asked, he really would if it ever came down to it. The question didn’t even leave his head while he stared at a dead corpse. He examined it thoroughly, not because he found it interesting or anything. He was looking for one part of it that Vanoss could identify, then let out a deep sigh as he stood up, rolling back his shoulders before looking at a group of his friends standing several feet behind him. They all were in the darkness like a group of odd creatures.

“It’s not him—”

“I could’ve told you that,” Wildcat said with his arms crossed.

“Alright, boys,” Vanoss stepped over the rotting corpse, “let’s continue this mission.”

The night should’ve been easy. It wasn’t. First a phone call, a distressed voice on the other side only for it to cut off mid-sentence. Vanoss didn’t hold back against what he was meant to do, so he grasped for anyone who wanted to go and piled them into the truck.

Not everyone wanted to come for the same reason.

Moo came up beside him, poking him in the shoulder and said, “I’m only here for the pumpkins.”

“I told you we’ll head over after this,” said Vanoss, frowning at Moo’s sharp nod. He backed up to walk alongside the others behind Vanoss. Did they regret coming after finding out what this all meant? Vanoss was barely understandable when he tried to explain what was happening.

He was afraid, how hard was that to understand?

Vanoss led his group of friends into the suspicious warehouse district of the city. It was cold and quiet, not like he thought a club would be somewhere close by. He just didn’t have much else to think about when it came down to it after he got the phone call. It was still in his head, making him shaky and unnerved by the idea that this could be for nothing.

At least until the trail of bodies started showing up.

“You haven’t explained the mission in detail,” Basically said from somewhere to Vanoss’ left. He was with Fourzer0seven and Panda. The three of them were at a bar an hour ago, drinking beer, and playing Pool, possibly gambling. They weren’t ecstatic about coming in for work, but this was more personal than business.

The rest weren’t doing much, he was pretty sure Terroriser had been sleeping when he answered the phone. Vanoss was grateful none of them put up a fight about coming in. Even when he hardly gave them enough details to go by.

Vanoss looked at Basically, “I got a phone call before I called the rest of you, and—”

“Dumbass Delirious went missing,” Wildcat interjected. “So, Vanoss wants to find him and make sure we can drag his dumbass back to HQ.”

“Is that why we’re here?” Terroriser asked, yawning right after.

“I still want to buy pumpkins,” Moo said wistfully.

“We can just steal some,” Panda offered.

“Shut up,” Basically said, then sped up to walk beside Vanoss. “Why couldn’t you tell the rest of us why we’re here. Maybe we don’t give a flying fuck if Delirious is—”

“He doesn’t normally scream in a phone call, asking for help, then hanging up halfway—”

“Sounds like something Delirious would do,” said Terroriser.

Vanoss shook his head. Right now, that wasn’t really the point of whether this was some kind of joke on Delirious’s part. It was off. He knew it the moment the phone was hung up. He acted quick, and now that he’s seen the bodies left strewn on the ground, he couldn’t take it lightly.

“What do you think about the bodies, if it’s some kind of joke?” he asked his friends, watching their bland expressions before looking forward. Yeah, that’s what he thought.

The buildings looked empty, but that’s usually how they appear when it was around twelve at night and there was barely a sound besides their breathing and footsteps upon the road.

“Where do you think the call came from?” Moo asked.

“Well, from what Delirious went on about on the phone before he hung up, he said Worth St, which is…” Vanoss pointed at a dented sign standing at the corner of the street.

“And you think it’s around here?” Panda asked.

“I did trace the call,” Vanoss said, gritting his teeth at his friend’s constant annoying questions, but it’s not like he could ignore their curiosity when it came to this.

“Hey,” Terroriser said, walking over to him then pointing toward the shadow of one of the buildings, “this is totally normal, right?”

Vanoss wasn’t sure if Terroriser was trying to be sarcastic of some kind. What he could see from where they were standing was writing on the side, including a body hanging from a thick wire.

“If our darling Delirious is on a murder spree, I think we have every right to kill him,” said Wildcat.

Vanoss frowned. “He’s not on a murder spree. Why phone me and tell me to come here just so he can kill me? It doesn’t make sense. It would’ve been easier just to show up at headquarters, knowing I was the only other there, making sure everything was equipped for our next mission.”

Fourzer0seven scoffed from beside Basically. “Ah, yes, you’re the one doing that, I’m pretty sure Terroriser and Moo did that the other day.”

Vanoss rolled his eyes. Great. “Whatever, I was looking over our priorities before he called.”

Terroriser, Moo, Wildcat, and Panda were walking over to the writing on the brick wall, including the body that was currently dripping blood from its overly mutilated body. Good thing Vanoss could hardly see it from where he was.

“How did they get the spray paint up there?” Moo asked Wildcat.

“Does it really matter right now?” Wildcat said, giving a vague shrug.

Terroriser pulled out his phone, looking at the screen before answering the incoming call. “Hey, you’re late, guess what we found.”

“He looks fucking clueless,” Fourzer0seven said.

“He’s dead, Fourzer0seven, he’s fucking dead,” said Basically.

“A dead body hanging from a wire...looks like one of those tough ones, you know...I’m not going to cut it and bring it back, but where are you, Vanoss wants all of us out on the field tonight,” Terroriser said, narrowing his eyes at Vanoss who glared in return.

“Who do you think it is?” Fourzer0seven asked.

“Maybe Delirious if we get a closer look,” Panda said, taking out his phone and flicking on his bright light. It barely pushed the shadows away from the corpse.

“It’s not,” Wildcat said.

“Do you think there’s stairs somewhere around here,” Basically asked, gesturing for Fourzer0seven to follow him.

“I don’t think that’s Delirious,” Vanoss said.

“It’s not…” said Wildcat, hands tucked into his pant pockets and giving an empty look at Vanoss.

“I think it might be Delirious,” Terroriser was saying into the phone with little concern in his voice. “Also, are you coming or what?”

“Wildcat, help us with this door!” Basically called, he and Fourzer0seven stood in front of the warehouse door, having obvious troubles getting inside.

“He’s not coming yet,” Terroriser said to Vanoss.

“I told him to be here…” Vanoss shook his head. “No one ever listens to me.”

Terroriser frowned. “I’m not taking a picture of Delirious’ body...so you’re gonna have to come here and look yourself. It’s not like he’s going anywhere, he’s just hanging off the roof.”

Vanoss stared at the body. The shadows darkened around its rigid form, making it difficult to see who it actually was. The wire itself twisted into barbed wire around its body, and the blood darkened the already black and grey clothes the corpse was wearing.

“I really don’t think that’s Delirious,” Vanoss said quietly.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you guys,” Wildcat grumbled as he walked by Vanoss toward Basically and Fourzer0seven who were still struggling with the door.

“What did he say?” Vanoss asked once Terroriser got off his phone.

“He’s picking up SMii7y and Kryoz first. Said he’d be here in about twenty minutes...if he can find the place.”

“Not like we’re hidden or anything.” Vanoss glanced down the long strip of road between each of the tall grey to red brick buildings. Most of them were brown in the sun, but from all the shadows, everything seemed almost dull besides the orangish red of the streetlights. It reminded him of the corpse dripping blood from the wire.

“Oh shit!” Vanoss twisted around when he heard Basically’s exclaim, he was pointing to the opposite building. “He’s on the roof!”

“Are you serious?” Wildcat asked.

“I wouldn’t have said it if there wasn’t anyone there!”

Vanoss didn’t see anything. The shadows were way too thick up there, and around the building...oh…A body slid from the ledge and it fell, yet barely hit the ground when another wire pulled tight at the body and had it swinging back and forth against the brick wall. The blood leaking from a newly tortured victim was splattered upon the wall and ground like a squished ripened raspberry.

“I could go for some pomegranate juice right now,” Panda said from beside Wildcat.

“Be my fucking guest,” Wildcat muttered, walking past Vanoss as the others headed over to the body.

“Is it him?” Moo asked, jogging alongside Terroriser while avoiding the puddle on the ground.

“I keep fucking telling you idiots—”

“It could be,” Basically said, cutting off Wildcat.

“I don’t think it is,” said Vanoss, peering up to look at the figure. He almost suspected a woman, but when he drew close, he could see it’s another man in a thick dark coat. His clothes were soaked through like the other.

“Is this some kind of sick fucking game this asshole brought us into?” Terroriser asked, glaring up at the body. “Because this isn’t funny, Vanoss!”

“I’m not a part of this shit,” Vanoss said. “I don’t think Delirious would do this anyway, it’s not his shtick to go out of his way to fuck over a group of people, and certainly not us.”

“I agree, Delirious is way too loud when it comes to his plans,” Moo said much calmer than the others.

“Then where is he?” Fourzer0seven asked, glancing around.

“I don’t know, but we should start looking for the asshole who’s hanging bodies like they’re fucking christmas ornaments,” Basically said, sprinting towards another door that led into the building.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Wildcat said under his breath as he followed Basically with Fourzer0seven and Panda.

Vanoss was still staring at the body. Unsure of what this was all supposed to mean. He took out his phone and looked at the unknown phone call that came from Delirious about an hour ago. He couldn’t call or text back, and tracing the call itself came here. To this empty place, yet it wasn’t so empty.

He followed his friends who went through the door that wasn’t locked like the other. The warehouse was dark and had an earthy scent with a taste of metal in the air. He was thinking it could be from the body hanging outside, but he wasn’t so sure as he followed his friend’s voices up ahead.

Vanoss shuddered in the dark. He hated being alone like this, and even whispered Terroriser’s name when he spotted him. Terroriser waved him over as the others were quietly arguing around a metal chair with droplets of blood here and there on the cement.

“So, the dude outside was tortured,” Basically said, leaning against a metal beam.

“Obviously.” Wildcat sighed. “What does this have to do with Delirious?”

“He fucked over the wrong people, that’s the reason why he decided to bring us into it, so he can get us to clean up his mess,” said Terroriser, his arms crossed over his chest.

Vanoss wouldn’t deny that sounded like something Delirious would end up doing to them. Not trying to kill or even traumatize them. He was much more...easier to read than that.

“What are we going to do about that guy who’s wandering around?” Moo asked, head tilted back as he peered up at the roof above them.

“I think we should split up,” Terroriser said. “Half of us stay down here, the other half check where this asshole went.”

“Then what? Kill him, we’re off the job, Terroriser,” said Basically in a mocking tone, but his smirk said otherwise, he seemed to like the idea of wanting to do more than stand around.

Fourzer0seven even pulled out a knife from the inside of his coat.

Vanoss felt for his own switchblade, then wrinkled his nose as he stepped back. “I want to wait for the others.”

“Same,” said Panda.

“Fine, I’ll come along,” Terroriser said, then looked at Moo. “What about you? Are you staying or going with them?”

Moo frowned. “I guess I’ll go with Basically and Fourzer0seven.”

“I’ll stay here, see if he comes through,” Wildcat said.

Vanoss stepped out of the warehouse, then frowned up at the dead body. “I think we should call the cops if Delirious isn’t going to show up. He could be the next hanging corpse.”

“That would be a waste of our time then,” Terroriser said with his phone out, he was dialing a number, then pressed his phone against his ear.

Vanoss walked onto the road and looked at each of the buildings. He couldn’t see anyone. Everything was clear enough that there wasn’t much to suspect. At least until bright headlights made him twitch, and he moved out of the way as the horn was drawn out for too long while the car itself slowed to a crawl.

“I forgot you don’t drive,” Terroriser said as he looked down at SMii7y in the driver’s seat, Kryoz sitting in the passenger, and Nogla rolling down the backseat window.

“Sorry, took some time to get them off their asses,” Nogla said, a grin on his lips. “Did you guys find Delirious yet?”

“No, but there’s already—”

“Yo, are those bodies hanging from the roof?” Kryoz asked, getting out of the car and walking across the street to get a better look.

“Please tell me this is a joke,” SMii7y said as also got out of the car.

“It’s not,” Vanoss told him. It’s not the kind of joke he would play. They made him seem as if he had these violent thoughts on his mind all the time. “Delirious called, told me to come here, but since we all got here...some random person has been shoving bodies off the roof. Right now, there’s only been two.” And a few others in the alleys, hidden by the shadows.

“That’s...messed up.” SMii7y grimaced.

“This is real bad,” said Nogla, looking at the closest body. “Did you call him back?”

“It wasn’t from his cellphone, but I was able to track his signal here…”

“And you don’t think it’s him?” Nogla asked.

“Why would he do this?” Vanoss asked incredulously, and before Nogla could answer his question, they heard yelling from within the warehouse. Vanoss explained that the others had gone in to investigate but it seems they found something. Wildcat and Basically appeared from the shadows and shoved a body down onto the ground.

“Fucking asshole,” Basically panted.

“What happened?” Nogla asked.

“Hey, you’re finally here, always late, aren’t you?” Fourzer0seven said, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I wanted to join the party, so I brought two more.” Nogla pointed at SMii7y and Kryoz who were standing beside each other.

“I’m not sure if it’s worth it to come,” SMii7y said, grimacing at the body lying on the ground. It was covered in grease or something, the clothes were thick, and the hair was dark.

Panda chuckled nervously as Wildcat knelt down beside the body. “No, it’s totally worth it.”

“What happened to the guy—”

“I don’t know,” Basically interjected, meeting Vanoss’s gaze. “There was a chair propped up on the other side. Apparently whoever was up there was going to shove this one off the building, but we probably wouldn’t have noticed because we were on this side the entire time.”

Well, that’s unsettling.

The person’s face was covered by some kind of mask, and as Wildcat was about to reach for it, the body began to squirm like some kind of worm.

“Ah, it’s moving,” Kryoz shrieked, stepping back from the others.

Vanoss didn’t like the stink of grease coming from the body. “Wonder why it’s covered in that stuff.”

“I don’t know,” Wildcat said, glaring down at the squirming body until it went still. The arms and legs were tightly held down by the wire, and it seemed there was something tight around the neck, keeping the mask in place. Terroriser knelt down to examine it thoroughly.

“It’s not armed from the looks of it,” Terroriser said to Wildcat.

“What are you going to do now?” SMii7y asked, also taking a step away from the others and stood beside Kryoz. The both of them wore unusual frightened expressions. They found these nights enjoyable, but maybe it was an off night of some sort.

Wildcat took a deep breath, but before he could touch the mask, Vanoss took out his switchblade, flicking it open, then tipping the mask slightly. The face was slathered in grease, and the mouth was covered with duct tape. The eyes were tightly closed, possibly to keep the grease from getting inside.

“If anything, the random guy could’ve set this body on fire,” Vanoss said, cutting the wire that kept the mask in place around the face, and Terroriser tore it off.

“Get a cloth,” Terroriser said to the others. SMii7y was the one opening up the trunk of his car and taking out a water bottle. He said he forgot it the other day and hoped it was fine. Vanoss was taking off his sweater so Terroriser can use it to wipe away the grease.

“Do you have any spare clothing?” Wildcat asked, using his own knife to cut off the other sets of wires around the body.

SMii7y scoffed. “No. I can go get some though.”

“Big enough that it can fit Delirious,” Vanoss said as he ripped a part of his sweater, soaking a bit of the cloth, then wiping the grease from the familiar blue eyes he had looked into hours ago.

“Holy shit, thought we had to cut those bodies down and see if you were one of them,” said Terroriser, a nervous smile on his lips as he wiped the grease from Delirious’ face.

SMii7y and Kryoz were gone while the others stayed behind to look for the one who had done this. Delirious didn’t have much to say. He accidentally swallowed the grease and some gasoline. They didn’t have enough water to get it out of his mouth, so Nogla called SMii7y to get him a few bottles.

“Once we’re out of the area,” said Wildcat as he stood up, trying to get the grease off his hands. “We’ll call a clean up crew.”

Vanoss was glad they had cut down the other bodies as neatly as they could, but from the way things had gone, these people were already dead.

Once SMii7y and Kryoz returned. They did their best to clean off Delirious, and put on fresh clothes before discarding the old ones. Vanoss and Terroriser helped Delirious into the back of Vanoss’ truck while the others left, Moo still going on about pumpkins.

The night didn’t stay as quiet, not with Delirious’ muttering explanation over what happened, and the sight of a few white vans driving by toward the Warehouse District.

[6ftslytherin]

Queer OC Questionnaire

Name: Sabine V. E. Lowell

1. What is your oc's identity?

Androgynous lesbian woman

2. When did they realize their identity?

In a way she's always known.

3. How did they feel when they found out?

(Trigger warnings: internalized homophobia and a suicide attempt)

Sabine had always felt like there was something different about her than the other girls. She never really understood how they could dream about getting married to a handsome gentleman. When she finally heard about other girls liking girls it was in a negative connotation. She hadn't thought that what she felt was bad but this was a respected adult saying it.

Her family being the famous Lowells taught her that one of the most important things that she could do was continue the bloodline by marrying a man and having children. When she asked about having children with a woman her grandfather Virgil laughed and told her it was ridiculous. She never brought the question up again.

Over the years the shame would build. It wasn't just her sexuality that made her feel bad. Her weird behavior caused her family to be ridiculed. She had indirectly killed her brother John. She was the cause of the argument that made Jacob leave. She wasn't feminine. Her parents deserved better. Being herself dishonored the Lowell name. She wasn't even sure if her parents actually loved her anymore.

She tried to be the best daughter she could be but she always felt bad about who she was. She couldn't even tell anyone because she didn't feel like her problems mattered compared to other's. Eventually all the shame and guilt built up which is when she decided to end things. She couldn't deal with the pain anymore.

She was fourteen when she stole a bottle of sleeping pills from a muggle pharmacy with the intent to take the entire thing. She decided on a date when the fewest people would be home and made peace with the people in her life. When the day came she wrote a note explaining everything and downed the bottle with a glass of wine. She became light headed and passed out a bit later.

She woke up in a bed at St. Mungo's. She didn't have the strength to argue when she was offered a spot in the pediatric section of Waterhouse Psychiatric Hospital and agreed.

4. How long did it take for them to accept themselves?

It wasn't until she was being treated in the psychiatric hospital that she began to let go of the guilt. Her parents hired a private psychiatrist to help them. The psychiatrist, Dean Garth, would help her and her family come to terms with their feelings.

She still sometimes has moments where she feels less than because of who she is. She now has technics and a stronger support system for those moments.

5. Are they open about their identity? Did they come out subtlety or dramatically?

She came out in her suicide note. She wasn't expecting to live so she didn't feel like it would be a big deal. When she woke up the day after she remembered the note and felt instant regret. When she had her first session with Dean she found out that her parents had read the note and given it to him. She felt deeply embarrassed about it.

After a few sessions with Dean he asked if she would be willing to have a session with her parents. She agreed. Sabine was surprised by how much her family really cared about her. They wanted to help her with her problems and felt like the worst parents in the world that Sabine thought the only way to stop the pain was to die. For the first time in years she cried in front of them. She no longer doubted she was loved.

She would slowly come out to her friends and extended family over the coming months.

She decided to be openly gay starting on September 1 1988.

6. What were the inital reactions of their friends and family?

Overall very positive. They were more concerned with Sabine's mental health at the time.

7. Did anyone know before they came out?

Her mother had an inkling by the time Sabine was 11. She thought she had a crush on Rowan. Her grandmother Colette knew by the time Sabine was 5. When asked to elaborate Colette responded with, "I just knew." Looking back on it, her grandmother had always been pro-LGBT. It turns out that Colette's uncle had been a closeted gay man that lived a double life until his death.

After she got out of the hospital she was hanging out with Rowan and told her. Turns out Rowan already knew. Not only that, but Rowan also liked girls and identified as a demigirl.

When she told Jacob his response was, "Yeah, no shit."

8. Was it a complete shock to some people?

Martinius Lowell, head of The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, a job that requires the ability to see minute details, had no idea.

Her oldest brother Sef came back from Switzerland to spend time with her. Turns out he wasn't aware either. He was embarrassed about never noticing.

One day when Marie was visiting Sabine in the hospital she told her cousin she liked girls. Marie responded by saying she also liked girls. That was when the girls realized they were both the gay cousin.

9. What has their love life been like?

There was a girl that went to the same ice rink as her when she was eight that made her feel strange. She loved watching her skate and talking to her. She wanted to say something to her. Then she remembered how her fellings were wrong. So she didn't say anything to her. She started avoiding her. Eventually her crush for the girl died off. They went to the beach when she was twelve and she saw an older girl she was unable to stop looking at.

Sabine joined the Slytherin quidditch team in her second year. There she met Skye Parkins. After months of training and playing together Sabine considered her a friend. Sometimes Penny Haywood would talk to Skye and make Sabine feel weird. For some reason she only wanted Skye to talk to her. After awhile she realized she was attracted to Skye. She felt awful for liking a girl again. She started to hang out with Skye less.

In the Summer of 1987 when Sabine was fourteen she met Yvonne Silverpot, a fifteen year old girl. She was doing some modeling work for Sabine's mother at the time and needed a place to stay. Yvonne took an interest in Sabine. She often asked Sabine to spend her free time with her, which she obliged.

Whenever Sabine or Yvonne were free they would be with each other, quickly becoming friends. One day Yvonne asked Sabine if she had ever kissed anyone before. She answered truthfully that no, she hadn't. Yvonne offered to be her first. This surprised Sabine. She tried to explain that girls aren't supposed to kiss other girls.

Yvonne closed her eyes and said, "I'm going to keep my eyes closed for five minutes. Kiss me if you want. I'd like it and I think you would too." Sabine fought against her instincts before she gave in and kissed her. Yvonne left a few days after that. Sabine knew she would probably never see her again.

It was late September when Sabine accidentally outed herself to Merula. She had felt so comfortable in the conversation they were having it had slipped out. It had clearly freaked Merula out. She didn't say anything. She just got up and left. Sabine sat there, marinating in her panic induced nausea. She closed her eyes and started to use deep breathing techniques.

Sabine could tell Merula was avoiding her. She wouldn't even look at her when they had potions class, even though they sat next to each other. In between classes Sabine asked Merula if they could talk in private. Merula agreed. Sabine asked her if she had told anyone, she hadn't. Sabine was relieved. She explained how she didn't want her to tell anyone. Merula agreed but stated it still made her uncomfortable. Sabine didn't like it but was glad she was being agreeable.

Weirdly Sabine and Merula started to get closer. Merula didn't seem capable of the venom she used to spew at Sabine. They even had a private sleepover to celebrate Merula's birthday, Sabine's roomates being gone due to Christmas. Merula had gotten comfortable enough to share a bed with her. Sabine had got to sleep happy that they had finally buried the hatchet.

That morning she woke up to an asleep Merula holding onto her. Sabine almost had a heart attack. That was when she had a thought; hold her back. She almost did. That was when she realized she once again had a crush. She would have to distance herself to keep her from getting hurt. She wasn't able to fall back asleep. When Merula woke up she apologized for holding her. Sabine said she didn't mind, even though she did. The day after she began to distance herself from Merula.

The problem with this being in the same house, having the same classes, and sitting at the same table. Merula often asked if Sabine wanted to hang out or study together. Everytime she would decline Sabine could see the hurt in Merula's eyes, even if she acted like it didn't bother her.

Then one day in spring Merula had enough. She challenged Sabine to a private duel at night. Sabine arrived at the location expecting an angry Merula ready to fight her. Instead Merula was quietly waiting for her. It was almost eerie. Sabine asked what was happening. Merula simply said, "Do you hate me?" Sabine would have been surprised by the boldness if it had been anyone else, she said no.

Merula then demanded to know why she was avoiding her. Sabine couldn't think of anything to say. How could she explain that she had developed feeling for her? Then something shocking happened, Merula hugged her. She said she wanted to be around her again. That it hurt not to be. Merula buried her face in Sabine's chest. She said, "I need you to stay in my life because your the only person that treats me like I'm worth a damn. I think I like you. And that terrifies me."

Sabine was in a daze. She liked her? Sabine was scared. She slowly moved her hand onto Merula's head. Sabine breathed in deep. She said everything she had been holding in her heart. She told her how special she felt Merula was. That was when a thought came to her. Sabine swallowed hard and said, "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Merula looked at Sabine. She said yes. The two of them started to cry out of happiness. It was almost bitter when they had to part. They agreed to meet up in Hogsmeade the week after, Sabine would come up with a date plan. They went back to the Slytherin common room while holding hands.

A month later Sabine asked if she could refer to Merula as her girlfriend. She agreed.

Strangely, Sabine's never been romantically attracted to Rowan. That was when Sabine realized she had a type. Tomboys.

How do they feel about their identity now?

Sabine is significantly happier since she was able to get the help she needed. She accepts the fact that she isn't going to magically wake up one day as a feminine heterosexual and she's glad she won't. Her family likes her girlfriend and she wouldn't want it any other way.

Blank questionnaire here:

[browanswylie]

why 13rw ruined my life-buckle up its a long one

     Hey, it’s Emily. Don’t adjust your, whatever device you’re hearing this on. It’s me, live and in writing. No return engagements, no encore, and this time, absolutely no requests. Get a snack, settle in because I’m about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why this cursed show ruined my life. 

     Do the names Zach and Alex ring a bell? In fact, I have not stopped thinking about how these two fools were so beautifully set up to be the best couple in the show since that horrid day of June 5, 2020. As a matter of fact, Zach and Alex are literally the show’s most popular ship, yet they still were not endgame. Let’s throw in gRaNoLa CaMp cOoKiEs guy at the last minute. Listen, I love Charlie, he’s my bi baby, but it’s like his only personality trait is baking and annoying Alex. Like Alex literally said the words “If I say yes will these stop” in response to Charlie’s promposals. I have been an avid Zalex shipper since 2018, so you can imagine my disappointment towards the wasted potential we were dealt with this season. First of all, Zach did not teach Alex how to slow dance in season two just for them to not slow dance together at prom?? Did Ross Butler get into a fight with the writers or something, because why all that build up for NOthing? Can we also talk about how Alex murdered someone because they threatened Zach’s life? Can we also talk about how Alex almost drowned alone in season one, while in season four Zach saves him from drowning in the lake. The writers really had us thinking they were gonna kiss again, but then the scene just arbutedly ends? Can we talk about how Zach had to leave a room because Alex and Charlie were there? Maybe we can talk about how Zach is “not” in love with Alex, even though Alex was the one to break away from the kiss while Zach had his eyes closed with a dreamy look on his face. Ooh, I always love thinking about how Alex had no problem having Zach help him back in his cane days, but when Tony and Clay made an effort to walk his way to see if he needed help it cursed them out. We can also talk about the “Why are you with me and not with Charlie?” scene because I wonder why Zach would get so angry at his “best friend” hanging out with him like that if there was not more behind it. We can have the discussion of how Alex literally confessed his love to Zach in front of his boyfriend, with Zach adding in “it was a nice kiss” while staring Charlie down cuz that’s some funny bf shit. Actually, maybe we should be talking about how Charlie literally laughed when Monty told him Alex tried to kill himself and Zach had to step in. Yes, it makes sense for Charlie to laugh considering Monty’s is a scary little shit. Speaking of Monty, can we talk about how his gaydar was on point? Now I’m not one to brag, but I too both called Monty and Alex not being straight since season one, but let’s not get off track here. Monty called Alex a word that I am not gonna repeat in this essay for obvious reasons, but he also referred to Alex as Zach’s boyfriend. Again, I’m a big Charlie St. George fan, but when he smiled to alex at prom, my mans deadass said out loud “I’ll never be happy”. Like?? Anyways, maybe we can talk about how Alex started describing Zach when he was talking to the webcam girl. The more obvious shit being when Alex literally got a boner after trying to drop kick Zach, when was in the middle of a fight and stopped to help Alex up, or how Zach asks to hang out with Alex every 2108318 seconds. Or how Winston starts rambling on about why he’s in love with Alex and Zach goes like “yeah…”. We can also have the discussion about how, now this one is my favorite folks, Zach literally looked like he wanted to die when Charlie and Alex were holding hands at Monet’s. The moral of the story, is that there are many conversations to be had about Zach and alex. All in all, It just does not make sense for Zach and alex to go through what they did just for some random ass cookie generator boy to ruin it. I do have to admit, the prom scene made many many points, but it shouldve been ZACH!1!1 Ultimately, the only thing I got out of season four was that Alex settled for someone else because he thought Zach did not feel the same, when in reality, Zach had only realized he did too late.

     The next and final reason why this show has ruined my life is because of Justin foley. Do I even have to explain this one? Zach and Alex at least have potential to get together in the future, while Justin is gone forever. Fictional deaths are usually sad for me in general. I will usually tear up, maybe shed a tear or two, but for Justin mf Foley, I sobbed. I sobbed for the person that had the best character development known to man. I sobbed for the person that was homeless, lost himself to drugs, to then find his people and his happiness.  I don’t want to talk too much about his death because we all know how sad that was. Justin survived so much. Not only did he have to watch himself struggle because of drugs, he had to watch his mom to do so. His character development is the best I have ever seen. In particular, his development with Clay. Justin went from wanting him dead in season one, to calling him his brother in season four. The scene where Clay says goodbye to Justin especially hurts because it shows how Clay has learned how important it is to tell the people you love that you love them while they are still here. He almost died thinking that he had ruined Jess’ life. He knew he wasn’t feeling well on prom night, but still went for Jess. His and Jess’ relationship had always been a favorite of mine. They were at times on and off again, but you always knew they would ultimately end up together. Justin’s life was finally starting to go good for him. He had a family that loves him and he was going to college, and then his mother died and he relapsed. Justin Foley deserved to live a happy life in college, with Jess and Clay, with his best friend Zach, etc. He deserved a happy ending, period. And don’t even get me started on the scene where Clay reads Justin’s college letter. They both saved each others lives at one point or another, and who would have thought it would end like this. “He’s the reason I’m alive in the first place to write this essay because he’s my good influence. He’s my brother” is a scene that perfectly describes the sobbing chef’s kiss emoji. But enough with the sad because Justin Foley lived. While he knew what it was like to truly feel alone and helpless in this world, he also knew what it was like to feel loved and wanted. 

     All I wanted out of season four was zalex endgame and Justin’s happiness and looks where we’re at now. While all we have is Justin’s memory,  we still have Zalex’s future. All I’m saying is it cannot be a coincidence that Zach is the football coach with alex being at every football game due to Charlie. These bitches are fucking in the lockerooms, I just know it! No, but really, I am very hopeful for zalex college spin off. I mean hey, a Justin resurrection couldn’t hurt either. To end this essay I leave you with two words: what is the best ship and character from 13rw and why is it zalex and Justin?

[just-call-me-j-10v3]

Episode .5

The beginning

https://just-call-me-j-10v3.tumblr.com/post/643250003280904192/episode-1-the-truth-of-the-missing-brother

On the twelfth hour on the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves went around to collect as many as he could, however he only got eight of them.

Number eight, or Jela Hargreeves as she would be later known as, was a special case, simply because her mother had abandoned her from the start. On that twelfth hour a woman that goes by the name Marie Laurence was amongst the couple dozen not so fortunate women to be struck with those harsh birthing pains.

Her screams of pain were ignored in that New York alleyway, she had been walking home from her job as an exotic dancer. Marie would consider it honest work, maybe, if it weren’t for the fact that she was in deep debt with her boss. She was in too much trouble and having a kid, it would end up ruining her life forever.

She had the baby in that gloomy and damp alleyway and after she collected herself she left the child to die. She called the cops anonymously, saying that she had heard a baby crying in that damned alleyway for her own conscience's sake, (Jela didn’t see her until she later offered her the money she would’ve gotten for her from Reginald out of spite, a way to say she was better off without her, but let's keep that between us).

Reginald held that abandoned baby girl in his arms, he looked her in the eyes and when he saw that lack of emotion in her eyes the way she was so detached from everyone else.

“She has never been held before me, how is that so?” he had asked them as they told him this shocking news.

“No sir, we had figured we were picking up a dead body when we received the call, you came just as we set up to carefully extract her. The only issue we’re having is she doesn’t seem to cry or make noises, we’re afraid she might not have the ability to or other such issues. We really think it’s best to have her stay in the hospital with the other’s you have adopted.” The nurse suggests as she looks at the newborn in his arms.

“I will be taking her home with me now, the others I will pick up when they're ready, she needs to be held by me and me alone.” He says before leaving to take care of the little girl at home…

You see, Jela to Reginald was going to be his special child, the one he treated differently to see if it revoked a different outcome, her childhood she was known as ‘Daddy’s favorite’ but the others will never fully understand the amount of extra torment the emotionless one got as Reginald’s true number one.

That’s where we move to today, when you see the outcome of the little heros, the day where numbers 1-7 were met with a weight off their shoulders, but the day number eight was met with her first ever jolt of grief… The day of Reginald Hargreeves’ death.

Jela sat there, watching her sister playing violin on that late night, she would always go out of her way to see her.. After all Vanya and Jela were the only two the others didn’t exactly get along with.. She was watching when she got a call, she got up out of her seat, flashing Vanya a quick ‘I’ll be back’ look before walking away to answer the call.

“Unless someone died you shouldn’t be calling me and you damn well know that.” Jela snarls as she answers the phone, she knew that it wasn’t anyone she cared about, just another one of her workers.

“I’m sorry boss, listen, it’s that damned Hero of yours again, he showed up at that small hit you had set up, a few of our guys didn’t make it.” The worker in question states solemnly, shaking his head and biting his lip.

“Good, that means he feels like he saved the day, that was the point Speedy, I know you don’t get it but they needed to go.. Call them, I don’t know, casualties, another statistic. Whatever makes you feel better, just get someone into the coroner's office to burn, cut or even cover up those tattoos. I don’t need Diego finding out about my operation, got it?” She says with lack of emotion, something that came naturally to her, however, feeling emotions, that was the hard part. She sighs, knowing that her workers like to call each other family, she thinks on it as she hears his silence, most likely biting his tongue. "Alright, I know what you’re thinking.. I'll call a meeting with the Pit (A group of snakes), we’ll get our snakes in a group and take a day off to mourn, sound good Speedy?”

“Thanks Queeny, I’m sure their families will appreciate it, I’ll make sure we send them the usual parting gift.” He says, sounding more content with that outcome.

“Don’t start expecting it every time some run of the muck idiot dies to someone as bullheaded as number two, this is an exception, only because there were multiple losses at once.” Jela sighs, just hanging up, about to go back in when she receives another phone call…

“Mom, it’s late, why are you calling me?” She says, false worry in her tone, she never worries, or, rather, she never feels the emotion that comes with the idea of worrying. That’s when she hears it, the whispering of those three goddesses, Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos, or, also known as, the Moirae… the Fates. And with those whispers starts coming the emotions, she feels the fear, the agony, the grief… “No- Mom tell me you didn’t.”

“Please I need you to help me Marie-” She says, calling her by the name she had given Jela in the beginning.

“It’s Jela, and don’t move a muscle, don’t tell Pogo, don’t call anyone else, I will be there. You are lucky I was taught to respect you as my mother otherwise I would gladly be an orphan tonight.” She hung up the phone, telling Vanya that a job went wrong and she has to go, she calls one of her cars, the driver drops it off and walks away. She gets in and goes home, when she gets there she quickly works on cleaning and setting everything up to make it look like an accident, nothing remotely suggesting otherwise. She quickly messes with Grace’s programming, editing the cameras to remove herself, but leaving the truth about their fathers death to be found.. She went to her old room that night and for the first time since she was a child she sat there and cried…

The news got out the next morning and Jela was there to meet number two, who had felt the need to do his own check on Reginalds death. She watched as he walked around the room, examining things and making sure there wasn't any struggle.

“Diego, looks like you only care to visit after he’s dead, mom definitely missed her st-st-stuttering stanley.” She teased with a smirk, her eyes showing a slight glint of mischief, even with the circumstances she has to act like herself, even though she hates how she feels she can’t show that she does feel.

He throws a knife at her and she doesn’t even flinch as that knife flies directly next to her head, the wind from it moving her jet black hair. “When did you last see dad, Marie.”

She snarls a bit, absolutely loathing that name, her two toned eyes going darker at the sound of it. “You can say what you wish about me and call me what you wish, but don’t you dare insinuate that I killed my father.” Her voice cracks a bit, her eyes watering a bit, normally it would make people feel remorse or pity, but for Diego, it scared him to see Jela tear up like that.. An emotional Jela is a deadly one. Which means, if Reginald did die from muder Jela would have them dealt with already… Unless they were family, and she only considers a few people family.. He better call Allison and make sure she’s alive at some point… Just in case.

“Calm your tits or at least cover them, what the hell are you wearing anyways?” He says, getting distracted by her all too revealing outfit.

She couldn’t help but smile a little at that response, blinking her tears away and shaking her head. “You’re such an idiot, you know that?” She says, looking down at her black sweatpants, combat boots and crop top.

“I’m not an idiot, you just have the same iq as that one dude with the apple.” He says, playing dumb to try and break through those walls she has been building up, they used to be close when they were teens, he still likes to believe he knows her better than anyone. He knows how to make her smile at least.

She lets out a small laugh, smiling a bit. “You and I both know you damn well remember who Issac Newton is, stop playing dumb.”

“Tell anyone I did that and we’re going to have another match like when we were twelve.” He warns before he starts to leave to sneak into the coroner's office.

“You cheated! We considered the choke hold against the rules prior to the match!” She frowns something close to a pout.

“I adapted Miss ‘I can see the future’ maybe talk to your witches next time!” He shouts back, only to have a shelf that had been holding up perfectly well their whole lives fall directly on top of him.

She burst out laughing as she watches him stand back up in the hallway, holding his head. “That’s what you get for calling the three Goddesses of fate witches! You never learn.” he scoffs and just leaves without another comment. Jela goes and sits in the living room, looking at the painting of her old favorite sibling before texting Vanya. I’m sorry I wasn’t with you when you found out.. You have to come to the funeral or else we’ll have to have one for one of the others soon after, love you.

Allison was the first to make it there, Jela was sitting on a rocking chair next to their mom, reading in front of the fireplace in a black pantsuit, her jet black hair straight, as per usual, her green and brown eyes looking over as Allison walks in, scanning her up and down, her eyes flashing to a pure white colour, almost as if she were blind, something that happens when the fates talk to her. “Troubles at home I see, if you need help getting your daughter back I can help you out.”

“Don’t use the fates to spy on my life, if you cared you would actually call me.” She says with a frown, shaking her head.

“Says the one that didn’t invite me to her wedding, but you’re right, I don’t care about you in this instance, however, I do care that Claire doesn't get to see her mom, my niece deserves better.” She states in a melancholy voice. That’s when another one of their siblings enters.

“Hey Mom, mom?” Jela glances at the robot in question, sighing, she’s going to have to do another repair…

“Vanya?” Allison says as she recognizes the voice. “You’re actually here..” Vanya lets out a relieved sigh as her sister walks over to hug her. Jela sets down the book she was reading, or rereading should I say, as she watches her siblings hug. Extra-Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven (Vanya Hargreeves' self-written tell-all auto-biography) Oh how Jela loves that book, the most truthful thing she has ever seen in her life, even paints her as a villain.. Jela always loved playing the villain, even when they were training as kids.

“Hey Allison..” she says as her sister lets her go. Jela stands up to join the girls after setting her book down, walking over to them.

“Hah, what is she doing here? You don’t belong here. Not after what you did.” Diego says, dramatic and closed off as ever as he walks through the door.

“Talk to her like that and you’ll lose your tongue.” Jela snaps, standing protectively by her sister who never knows how to respond when Jela stands up for her like that.

“You two are seriously gonna do this today?” Allison asks, glancing over at Jela who she knows better than to get on her bad side before looking at Diego's outfit. He looked like offbrand Batman. “Way to dress for the occasion by the way.”

“And he was making fun of my crop top the other day, at least my clothes don’t make my ass look flat.” She whispers to Vanya, making her giggle a bit, Jela knew how to cheer her up.

“At least I’m wearing black.” He responds, either ignoring Jela’s comment or he didn’t hear it. Vanya looks at him walking away and Jela can practically feel the anxiety radiating off of her.

“You know what? I- Maybe he’s right and I shouldn’t-” Vanya starts, proving to Jela that she was right, like usual.

“Forget about him.” Jela and Allison say at the same time, making Jela wonder if the fates were messing with her or if she’s just more like her sister than she thought. “We’re glad you’re here.” Allison finishes off before they head to the living room to sit down.

Jela, however, meets up with Diego at the top of the stairs, knowing that he’s going to see Luther snooping around. “You’re an asshole to Vanya, she spoke the truth, that’s more than most of us.” She says, earning a glare from Diego, family events always puts him in a brooding mood. “She spoke out against someone she deemed as an abuser and she stood up against her siblings for bullying her. She has the right to tell her side of the story.”

“She made us look evil, I’m not a bad guy Jela.” He snaps, glaring at her, getting more frustrated at how calm she looks.

“You’re the only genuine hero I know Diego, she was venting and got money out of it, any kind of publicity is good publicity, if you have an issue with the book, write a statement on it and post it.” She says with a shrug, watching the shocked and confused look on Diego's face when she calls him a hero. She goes to speak again, only to be shushed as he hears Luther rummaging around and they walk towards it.

They stand in the doorway, watching him for a moment, the villain and hero, side by side. “We can save you some time.” Diego states as they both lean against their sides of the doorframe.

“They’re all locked, no forced entry.” Jela continues, her and DIego used to be a great team when they worked together..

“No sign of struggle, nothing out of the ordinary.” Diego says as he slowly walks towards his brother. “Oh, you got big, Luther. What’s the secret, huh? Protein Shakes? Low carbs?” Jela lets out a small laugh, really just watching them to make sure they don’t break anything if they fight.

“What do you want?” Luther asks, glancing at Jela before looking Diego in the eyes, something Reginald taught all of them, eye contact shows that you aren’t afraid. Diego lets out a sigh that slightly resembles a scoff before taking a paper out of his pocket, one Jela knew he damn well shouldn’t be able to have. That’s vigilantes for you.

“The autopsy report.” He says, holding it out for Luther to grab, but as soon as he goes for it Diego pulls it slightly out of reach. “Ah.” He says like the teasing sibling he is before letting him grab it.

“And you have this why?” Luther asks, opening the paper with more gusto than Jela would’ve liked, she has a feeling that Luther isn’t going to let this go, and that frustrates her.

Diego walks away a bit, facing the door and winking at Jela, “Well that’s because I… broke into the coroner's office.” He says with his arms open and a slight bow before sitting down in a chair. “And surprise, surprise, Dad’s death was… normal. Just a boring old heart failure.” Jela walks over to Luther, grabbing one of his arms and pulling it towards her height so she could look at it. She immediately realizes something and gives Diego a bit of a look.

“Yeah, so.” Luther says, a bit offstandish about it, looking at the picture, skimming over the report a bit.

“So, why are you in here, checking all of the windows.” He was with a slight raise and drop of his hands to gesture at the room they’re sitting in.

“Were you the first on the scene?” Luther asks, slight suspicion in his tone, looking at his brother, Jela watches the interaction, knowing where this is going.

“Pogo reported the body.” Jela says, very particular with her words, something they’ve all gotten used to over the years of growing up with Jela.

“Yeah, I talked to Pogo, he said he couldn’t find Dad’s monocle.” Luther says, giving Jela a look, she knew that look, he always wore it when they would be training in the detective work of the job.

“And your point being?” Diego says, shrugging his shoulders and brushing it off, that’s when Jela knew that he had taken it, she didn't understand why he would want a monocle, it wouldn't look good on him so it must be an emotional decision.

“Well can either of you think of a single time where you saw dad and he wasn’t wearing that monocle?” He counters, looking at Jela for support, but this is when she just shakes her head and leaves to have her own conversation with her more chill siblings.

She could practically smell the classic scent of drugs and booze when her favorite sibling entered the building, she smiles a bit, walking towards her fathers study and laughing a little as she sees him rummaging through their dead fathers things. “Let me guess, an advance on our inheritance?”

“Oh, that’s perfect! I’ll have to use that one!” Klaus says, walking up to Jela and pulling her into a hug, she groans, completely tensing up. He quickly lets go and throws his hands up. “Oh right! Sorry, no hugs.” He says, giving her a quick peck on the cheek insead and she sighs, glancing back at the door.

“Well, if you don’t find anything I can give you something light to keep the real bad ones away, you know how I feel about the hard shit, but my business is doing great and I don’t want you to have to deal with those nightmares… Ben’s yelling at me isn't he?” She says, practically feeling the ghosts glare.

“More like just giving you a thorough glare, says he doesn’t like how we influence each other. Do you know I love you?” He says with a smile, before going back to rummaging, That’s when Allison walked in and Jela looked back at her, seeing that look on her face reminded her of when they were younger…

Jela was sitting in a chair next to Reginald, the others were getting ready for bed, but not Jela, Jela was stuck with her Father still even though they had training in the morning. She sat next to him, thread with gold intertwined in it wrapped tightly around her hands, tight enough that she knew she would have marks the next morning and it would hurt to fight. She used it (and sometimes still uses it) as a conduit to connect with her deities, most people would have a shrine or candles and other such things, but Jela wasn’t religious, she was just chosen and created to withstand the emotional turmoil and the pain that comes with the knowledge of the future.

There’s a knock on the door and it breaks her concentration, coming back from talking to the three goddesses her eyes go from the blind white color to the mismatching green and brown. She looks down in time to see that the thread has cut through her skin, but knows better than to stop because of it.

“The children are ready for bed sir, they wanted to say goodnight.” Grace says cheerfully as she enters, part of her mothering program wanting to override her other systems and go help Jela… But she couldn’t, no matter what she wasn’t allowed to help Jela, only Reginald was. It was in her programming.

The door opened and Jela looked up, making eye contact with the others, the only ones who showed no jealousy at all were FIve and Klaus… They know the truth, she had told them all about what it was like being his favorite. Their father didn’t even bother to glance. “Okay! TIme for bed now kids, come along. Come along now.” Grace says as she ushers them out.

“Come along now Allison, your father and sister are busy.” Grace said to her as she was the last to budge.

“He’s always busy, and she isn’t my sister.” She says before walking out, Jela showed no sign of caring about Allisons harsh words, they both were too alike and bumped heads and she knew that. Reginald saw Jela’s lack of emotional response that night and cleaned her wounds before taking her out for ice cream, only to leave Jela out in the woods for a week after that ice cream.. That was her reward, other than usual training she got life or death. She lost weight but she made it out without so much as a scratch, she could only give the explanation that the fates were on her side.

“Jela, what are you two doing in here?” Allison asks, bringing Jela back to present times, she blinks once, collecting herself as she glances at Klaus, who quickly gets up from his spot behind Reginalds desk.

“Oh! Allison! Wow, is that you?” Klaus asks as he walks over to her, Jela stepping to the side as she lets her favorite sibling talk his way out of this one. “Hey, come here. Long time, too long.” He states, pulling Allison into one of his comforting hugs.

He pulls away from her a little and looks into her eyes, Jela walking away from those two as she walks over to her spot next to her fathers chair, one of her most recent art projects sitting on the desk. It was of number Five with an axe, his face covered in blood… She still did projects with her dad and they have recently been trying to get her sibling back, it had been their main focus. She could tell dad was getting paranoid, she just never wanted to see that it was going to be her mom that betrayed him. She wishes that her deities would’ve shown her that instead of a worthless picture of Five.

“Hey, I was hoping to see you actually, because I want to get your autograph. Add it to my collection.” Klaus saying this makes Jela focus on their conversation, she laughs a little, shaking her head.

“Klaus, I love you but I think it’s your drug dealers that have the collection, not you.” Jela says bluntly, looking at the two.

Klaus gasps and Jela almost expects him to be offended until he says, “You love me? I win! I was the first one you said it to, everyone owes me twenty bucks!” He is excited about it, Jela looks at him, not even shocked as she watches Allison hand him twenty bucks.

“Just out of rehab?” She asks when she sees the medical bracelet on Klaus’ arm, her eyebrow cocked, regretting giving him the money.

“No, no. No, no, no, no. No. I’m done- I’m done with all that.” Jela looks up at him, knowing better than that, plus, he stutters when he lies. “I just came down here to prove to myself that the old man was really gone. And he is! He’s dead. Yeah!” He says, clapping with excitement.

“You know how I know? ‘Cause if he were alive, only one of us would be allowed to set foot in this room. He was always in here, our whole childhood, plotting his next torment, right? I mean, Jela you know how he used to look at us, that scowl.” He says, pointing up at the portrait.

“Thank Christ he wasn't our real father so we couldn’t inherit those cold, dead eyes!” He says, pulling his eyes open and screaming a little with a chuckle. Jela looks at the scars on her hands from all the training she went through, the lack of sleep she had gotten, she was the only one that went without a half an hour break on the weekends. Without him she’d most likely be dead or have no idea how to communicate with the fates, if the fates say that this is where she is meant to be then so be it, she looks at Klaus who is sitting in their fathers chair, looking out the window for a moment.

“He wasn’t a good person by all means, but he was a great one. He pushed us to our limits and made us face things that no one else will hopefully ever have to face, but he was my father and I didn’t wish any kind of death on him. He is gone, his thread has been cut. That should be the end of his story, but-” She groans, the whisperings happening again and she grips the string in her pocket, she isn't allowed to tell them that yet. “...But I wish I was able to tell him that he wasn’t as smart as he believed and that his legacy is failing. It seems I’m the only one able to continue with the majority of his-”

“Blah blah blah, can we go back to you saying how much you love me, oh! We could go for a walk and buy brownies at the store!” Klaus interrupts, Jela just shakes her head at him. He is the only one that has ever gotten away with doing something like that. “Jela, sis, I love you.”

“Don’t over use it or it won’t hold as much meaning, but… I love you too Klaus.” She says looking in one of their fathers drawers and finding a picture that she took of her kissing Reginalds cheek, he looks so serious, but you can see a bit of a smile hidden there.. It was from their last ice cream trip, that was two days ago. She made him take a break because he was getting extremely paranoid, he told her she reminded him of Grace that day, the real one.. It shocked her… She should’ve known something bad was coming...

“Get out of his chair.” Luther says sternly, walking into the room, Jela sighs.. Luther has so much devotion to a man that he didn’t even really know. He thinks the numbers are based on the first being the best, but in reality it was based on a point system like Jela is an eight out of eight stars. She knows that Vanya has to have an ability, she just wishes she could figure out how to provoke it.

“Oh, wow, Luther! Wow, you really, uhh...You really filled out over the years, huh?” Klause says gesturing as if he was flexing his arms.

“Klaus.” Luther says in that same stern, scolding tone as he watches his brother, shaking his head a bit.

“Eh, save the lecture. I was already leaving. So, you guys can talk amongst yourselves.” He says with a small, teasing laugh as he walks towards the door, Jela walking to follow, smirking when Luther puts an arm in front of Klaus.

“Drop it.” He says and Jela can see his anger building up, it’s only a matter of time before he snaps and she's pretty positive it’s going to be on Diego.

“Ex-squeeze me?” Klaus says, playing dumb as he makes eye contact with Luther, not afraid of him.

“Do it. Now.” Luther says, only glancing away to look at Jela with a look that says ‘you were really going to let him get away with this?’ There’s a bit of a pause before KLaus gets a frustrated look and pulls away from Luther.

“All right. All right.” He says as he pulls away and as he starts pulling things out of his pockets he says. “It’s just an advance on our inheritance! That’s all it is! No need to get your little panties in a bunch.” He says with a gesture to his crotch, Jela laughs, walking towards the door.. She had missed Klaus, Allison however just looks away, disappointed. She walks out with Klaus, shutting the door behind them.

“Okay I know you kept the box, just give me the book inside.” She says and he excitedly pulls it out of the back of his shirt, pulling it out. She uses her key and opens it, taking the content out and putting it in her purse.

“You’re my favorite sibling, you know that?” He says, giving her a kiss on the cheek making her get a grossed out look on her face.

“You’re invading my space, and you better only buy weed with that or else I’ll skin whoever sold to you.” She says seriously and he smirks, saluting her as he walks away, looking at Ben who is glaring at him. “What, you’re dead, she’s my favorite living sibling.”

“I miss when she would ask about what was morally correct and what wasn't.” Ben says with a sigh, glancing back at Jela.

“Don’t worry I’ll buy the hard stuff from the really awful guy that I owe money to, it would be like doing the world a favour.” Klaus says, basically putting a target on that guy's head.

“Klaus you know she’ll do it.” Ben says with a scolding tone, glaring at his annoying sibling.

“That’s the point!” He says with a mischievous smile, him and Vanya are the only two that know about Jela’s real job.

They all eventually end up in the living room sitting in silence, Jela goes to take a drink of alcohol only to have Diego take it from her, giving her a stern look. She snarls at him, no matter how many times she has explained to him that her seizures are from talking with the fates and not because of an actual physical ailment he doesn't believe her. “I want my drink Diego.”

“Jela, last time you drank you had a seizure.” Diego says back and she frowns, holding her hand out for her drink.

“You know she gets what she wants Diego, save us the fight..” Vanya says softly and Diego takes the drink, downing it. Jela gets a look in her eyes, one that she always gets when she’s planning something.

“Okay Batsy, I’ll get some water.” She snaps, but it's only a matter of time until something happens and she won’t be taking Diego's side. Luther clears his throat, standing up.

“I guess we should get this started. So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at dad’s favorite spot.” Jela looks at Luther, shaking her head. Dad didn’t have a favorite spot, just a place where he made Luther feel important. The spot in question was the oak tree that Luther had an emotional connection to thanks to memories of their father.

“Dad had a favorite spot?” Allison asks, voicing almost everyone’s thoughts, she looks quite confused at the idea.

“You know, under the old oak tree. We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?” He says, a confused look on his face, Jela looks over and makes eye contact with Diego, he looks at her and she nods her head, confirming that not even she did that with Reginald.

“Will there be refreshments?” Klaus asks as he walks over with a joint and a drink of some sort, he lets Jela take a sip as he sits down. You can always count on Klaus to ask the important questions. “Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.”

“What? No. And put that out, you know dad didn’t allow smoking in here.” Luther starts, only to be interrupted.

“Is that my skirt?” Allison asks, a tone that you would only hear coming from a sibling who has gotten their stuff ‘borrowed.’

“And my crop top, you better not get that dirty, it's my metallica one. Diego only let me cut one of his shirts I borrowed, and I like that one.” Jela says, giving Klaus a look.

“What? Oh, yeah, these. I found them in your rooms! It’s a little dated, I know, but this skirt is very breathy on the bits.” He was with a gesture towards his crotch.

“Listen up. Still some important things to discuss, all right?” Luther says, using his big boy leader voice, making Jela roll her eyes, she doesn’t really agree with him being a leader, but tolerated it to make him feel better about himself.

“Like what?” Diego asks, looking at Jela with an exasperated look.

“Like the way he died.” Luther says, making Jela let out a groan, any hope she had of abiding the issue being demolished.

“And here we go.” Diego says, Jela taking Klaus’ drink and drinking some of it, ignoring the glare it got her everytime she did.

“I don’t understand, I thought they said it was a heart attack.” Innocent Vanya says, looking at Jela for confirmation, she nods her head. That is what they said.

“Yeah, according to the coroner.” Luther says, Klaus holds his blunt to Jela’s lips and she takes a hit. Little did she know that Ben was yelling at Klaus for it the whole time.

“Well wouldn’t they know?” Vanya counters, giving him a slightly frustrated look.

“Theoretically.” Luther responds, and Jela could tell that he was getting even more bottled up frustration from this as no one believes him.

“Theoretically?” Allison asks with a frown.

“I’m just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time I talked to dad, he sounded strange.” Luther states, trying to get them to take this seriously. Klaus starts gurgling his drink.

“Oh, quelle surprise!” He says while gurgling, Jela looks at Vanya, she’s starting to lose her patience.

“Strange how?” Allison asks, obviously upset by this, she just wants it to be over with.

“He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust.” He says and Jela gets up, walking over to the book shelf and just moving on from this annoying conversation, letting the others deal with it. Only hearing the important part like Luther telling Klaus to sober up so he can talk to dad's ghost and bringing up the monocle which in turn frustrates Batman, then it comes out, making her smirk and walk back over to them. “So whoever took it, I think it was personal, someone close to him, someone with a grudge.”

“Where are you going with this?” Klaus asks and Jela just pats Luther's shoulder, wondering how someone should properly respond to this situation, she decides pity is the option.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed dad.” Diego says, now standing next to Luther, not once looking away, Jela snickers at the thought. Luther gets a guilty look on his face as they all stare at him.

“You do?” Klaus says his voice showing confused shock and his face just showing generally being upset with the thought.

“How could you think that?” Vanya asks, there was hurt hidden in her voice and Jela starts to feel protective over her siblings, after all, she knows who did it.

“Great. Job. Luther. Way to lead.” Diego says before leaving the room, presumably to hide how frustrated he really is.

“You’re wrong on this one Luther, take a step back and look at the full puzzle..” That’s all Jela says before walking to find Pogo.

“That’s not what I’m saying…” Luther says, trying to defend himself and his detective work, it was failing.

“You’re crazy man. You’re crazy. Crazy.” Klaus says, looking Luther in the idea before leaving as well.

“I’ve not finished.” Luther says, trying to get them to stay so he can change their minds.

“Okay, well I’m sorry, I’m just going to go murder mom. Be right back!” Klaus says sarcastically as he walks away from Luther, Vanya following.

“That’s not what I was saying, I didn’t-” He gives up, sighing a bit as he watches his siblings leave. “Allison. Jeez..” he says as she completely ignores him. “That went well.”

Jela sits in the kitchen, on the counter when Pogo walks in. “You’re too harsh on them you know, they are your only family.”

“I see three of them as my real family, Vanya, Klaus and Five. Allison, she’s a good woman and she deserves more than she gat, just like the others, if not more at times.. But she and I will never get along. And Luther is just, well, a dog on a leash and his owner just passed away. He doesn't know how to lead, I lead more than he does, even if it doesn’t look like it.” She says, leaning her head against the cupboard behind her.

“And Diego?” He says with a knowing look, smirking a bit. She gives him a slightly cold look, but sighs a bit and shakes her head.

“We have never called each other siblings, even corrected everyone on it growing up, not once have I seen him as or called him family. I think the fates always knew we would be something more… but it didn’t last, he left when he got the first chance to leave, and when he asked me to go with… I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave dad.. Even from the start dad had spent more time with me than the others, I was the only one he held as a baby and he was the only one I ever let hold me, not mom, not you, only him.. And now he’s gone. He’s dead and I seem to be the only one of his children who truly cares.” She says, looking at her hands.

“Jela, I-” He starts, trying to find a way to comfort her or help her… but he never had to before, nor did he get the chance to, Reginald was very strict on either he helps her or no one does. Now he’s gone. She looks up at him, but all those emotions leave her face when Grace comes in, along with Diego. Pogo walks over to grace and tells Diego she’s going to have a quick charge before the big event.

“Number two.” Jela says emotionlessly, still leaned back, but then she sees it, the pity in his eyes and it makes her groan. “Don’t. Whatever you heard, whatever you’re thinking, keep it in that smooth brain of yours, and yes, I mean the texture.”

“You can be a bitch sometimes you know that? A heartless, monstrous bitch.” He says and she doesn’t even flinch, she has heard it all before but what happens next shocks her. “But I know how much he meant to you.” He hands her the monocle. “I know you knew I had it, you should keep it.”

“Diego, there’s no point in me having this, he’s dead, we’re supposed to be moving on.” She says, shaking her head as she holds it in her hand.

“Do you remember our first mission?” He asks randomly, and she looks at him confused, nodding her head.

“I remember everything, Capital west bank outside of main and sixth, it was 17 years ago.” She says, still confused about why he was bringing it up.

There was a group of heavily armed men and they were trying to steal from the bank, they were dumb about how they did it, but smart enough to keep hostages. Jela had entered the building first, scoping out the place and telling all of her siblings which entrances were clear. Allison and her were the first to make appearances. Allison rumoured a man to shoot his friend in the foot and as she did that Jela walked up to a man, talking out one of her butterfly knives and looking him in the eyes.

“May the fates be on your side.” She said and the man held his gun up, trying to shoot at him, only for it to jam, Jela throws her knife at him, killing him instantly, as the rest of her siblings went around to finish off the others.

“Gun’s are for sissy real men throw knives!” Diego says, throwing one of his knives at a man, winking as Jela who just laughed a little at his dumb catchfrase. She walked over to the hostages, simply walking over to them and leading them out, every bullet missing them as they walked with her… They eventually got all of the ones in the main area and had Ben finish a group of them off with his ability before leaving, Jela pats Ben's shoulder comfortingly only to get a grossed out look on her face and taking her now bloody hand and wiping it on Diego. “Hey! That’s gross.” She just shrugs at him.

They walk out of the front doors, the cops yelling at them to lower their weapons and they didn’t because their knives were already holstered. Jela does as her dad told her to and walks to the middle, putting on a heroic face as the questions start coming.

“Who are you?” asks one news anchor and Jela looks at them, her dad said to keep them calm and he will step in when necessary.

“We’re the umbrella academy, a group of well trained heroes.” She answered smoothly, three siblings on each side of her, Luther seemed upset that she was answering questions, but she ignored his side glances.

“How did you get into the banks?” and “What happened inside?” Were the next two questions to be said out loud.

“How do you usually get inside of a building, or better yet, a building with locked doors, and I think it is quite obvious that all that happened inside doesn't matter, as long as the money is untouched and the people are safe.” She says, her voice loud enough to hear and it’s smooth, calming, careful.. She always knew how to sound like a hero. Their father gave a speech and the questions just kept coming, He put Jela under his arm, it showed that she was his prized child, she spoke for him..

She frowns a little at the memory, she used to be fond of it, now it hurts.. Why is that? “You chose such a stupid catchfrase.” She says, laughing, he walks in front of her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, their walls always down around each other… even if they didn’t realize it.

“I was a kid and you told me you loved it.” He says with a fake frown, she looks him in the eyes, he was standing directly in front of her now as he talks to her, she is still sitting on the counter. She feels herself missing how they used to be, before they became enemies… the only issue is, Jela knows it would never last, after all he had Eudora Patch now. Her hand twitches, and he knows that means she’s either murderous, upset, or uncomfortable, so he takes a step back.

“I was lovestruck and wanted to see you smile, trust me those oxytocin and vasopressin chemicals have gone, and from what I’ve heard from people on the force, your chemical imbalance when around me is gone too.” She says blankly, not showing any emotion, which is normal for her.

“Me and Eudora? Did she talk to you about me?” He asks and the way his eyes lit up with curiosity made her laugh.

“Diego, look at you, you’re a teddy bear.” She says with a snort, and just like that all of his walls come shooting up out if nowhere… and so do hers. They both can see it in each other's eyes, they aren’t ready to spend this much time together yet, she sighs. “I'm going to go find Klaus.” And with that she leaves. She walks towards where the bar is, but pauses for a moment, she pulls one of her golden threads out and holds it gently in her hand, and with that she sees her deities.

“Where are these emotions coming from? I thought you sai-” She says, almost about to get snarky with the ones she calls her godly parents.

“You will feel what you need to feel when you need to feel it, now listen to them. Stop believing in strength coming from how emotionless you are, give in and show him that you are sorry.” Atropos states, and Jela knew she should just agree.

“But-” She doesn’t apologize, she never apologizes. Why would she apologize to him when she doesn’t see what she did wrong, but why does she feel bad then.

“You are running out of time to speak with him, so make your choice.” Lachesis says before they send her soul back to her body.

When her sight comes back she groans, realizing that Clotho had walked her to the door of the living area.. She walks in and Diego looks at her from his spot at the couch. “I’m sorry, I still care, and I’m clingy.”

Diego gets an astounded look on his face, sitting up and looking her in the eyes. “Dads death really fucked with you, huh?” He asks, looking at her with complete and utter disbelief.

“No, I just know that no one will ever believe you if you tried to tell them I said that.” She says before walking over and sitting next to him, they sit in silence for a while.. Both a couple of brooding people who like the color black.

“I’m not that pissed, but I’m stronger and smarter than you act like I am.” He says, struggling to say those words.

“How about we-” She stops when she hears the music and looks at him when she gets an idea. She stands up, walking over to the door and checking both ways, shutting the door, Diego throws a knife past her and her pupils dilate, a laugh escaping her.

“How about we be stupid and just dance.” He says, holding his hand out, Jela isn’t a dancer… but she could never say no to that puppy do look, so she takes his hand and lets him spin and dip her before they pull away and start doing some random, fun moves. Sharing laughs and smiles, just like they did when they were kids… that's when thunder rumbles and the music stops. They share a confused look and rush towards the sound, Diego taking her hand on instinct and she doesn’t bother to question.

“What is it?” Vanya asks, fear clear in her voice as she looks to Jela for an answer.

“Don’t get too close!” Allison says, pulling Luther back by his arm gently, not once looking away.

“Yeah, no shit.” Diego says, but Jela ignores all of them, pulling her hand from Diego and getting closer to it, too curious for her own good. That's when one word rings through her head. Five.

“It’s a portal from a different timeframe.” Jela says, with knowledge from failed experiments.

“Out of the way!” KLaus yells, pulling Jela behind him as he tries to spray the portal with the fire extinguisher before throwing it in, Jela gives him a dirty look and pushes him back to the others.

“Get back, I don’t want you hurt.” Jela says, giving him a look and he steps back. That’s when something starts to push through.

“Get out of the way!” Luther says, pushing them back. “Stay behind me, stay behind me.

“Yeah, stay behind us.” Diego says, trying to reach for Jela to bring het behind him, only for her to take a step closer.

“FIve…” She says fondly, completely ignoring the chaos behind her, and just as he pushes through and falls out she catches him. Carefully setting him down.

“Does anyone else see little number five, or is that just me?” Klaus says, not looking away from Jela and Five as they all walk closer.

Five looks down at his body, seeing how young he is. “Shit…”

_______

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 15/05/2021 (Coldplay, J. Cole, Trippie Redd & Playboi Carti)

I’m awful at predicting this chart, I really am, but most of that is probably down to how I only make vague predictions at the end of each episode without even considering most releases that’ll actually chart. Let’s just say I didn’t expect nine new arrivals this week. At the top, however, little has changed as the absolutely huge “Body” by Russ Millions and Tion Wayne with a remix featuring whoever the hell is spending its second week at #1. The rest of the chart, however, gets a bit more interesting. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

The biggest story to effect the chart this week is of course 2021’s BRIT Awards happening this Tuesday, which I’m sure boosted a lot of songs during the mid-week. I also actually covered the awards show on that day if you’re curious, with some of my observations, predictions and opinions. We can very clear see – or hear, for that matter – the impact of the BRIT Awards in this week’s chart, as it did cause a lot of gains and new arrivals that shook up the chart right in the middle of the tracking week. Firstly, we do have some drop-outs from the UK Top 75, which is what I cover, only one of them, “Paradise” by MEDUZA and Dermot Kennedy, being all that important given it was a top five hit but we do have a handful that lasted five or more weeks or peaked in the top 40, like “Medicine” by James Arthur flopping embarrassingly, “Addicted” by Jorja Smith dropping out to prepare for the rebound next week given her album release and “Solid” by Young Stoner Life, Young Thug and Gunna featuring Drake.

Speaking of Drake, he also provides the singular returning entry as “Wants and Needs” featuring Lil Baby is proving to be the actual hit from that three-pack from March, coming back to #65. Scaling down the chart, we also have some notable losses, songs that dropped at least five spots on this week’s chart. Those that fell include “Your Power” by Billie Eilish dropping harshly to #15 off of the debut, as well as “Your Love (9PM)” by ATB, Topic and A7S at #18, “Confetti” by Little Mix to #21 off of the return (with Saweetie, the artist quite literally solely the reason it’s had this second wind, still bizarrely left without a credit by the UK Singles Chart), “My Head & My Heart” by Ava Max at #27, “Titanium” by Dave at #31, “Wellerman” by Nathan Evans and remixed by 220 KID and Billen Ted (yes, THEY’RE credited) at #36, “Patience” by KSI featuring YUNGBLUD and Polo G at #42, “Heartbreak Anniversary” by Giveon at #44, “We’re Good” by Dua Lipa at #47, “Way Too Long” by Nathan Dawe, Anne-Marie and MoStack at #49, “Head & Heart” by Joel Corry and MNEK at #51, “Beautiful Mistakes” by Maroon 5 and Megan Thee Stallion at #55, “Don’t Play” by Anne-Marie, KSI and Digital Farm Animals at #56, “Calling My Phone” by Lil Tjay and 6LACK at #59, “Commitment Issues” by Central Cee at #67, “You” by Regard, Troye Sivan and Tate McRae at #69, “Get Out My Head” by Shane Codd at #70, “Hold On” by Justin Bieber getting ACR’d at #71, “Streets” by Doja Cat at #73 and finally, “6 for 6” by Central Cee at #75.

Filling up the room for those losses, however, are the gains, always a tad more interesting, as the songs that rose at least five spots on this week’s chart – or make their first appearance in the top 40, 20 or 10 – are usually having the BRITs to thank to some capacity. The climbers include “Summer 91 (Looking Back)” giving Noizu his first top 40 hit at #31 (and I’ll admit, the song is growing on me), Griff also getting her first with “Black Hole” at #35 thanks to her win and performance at the BRITs, “WITHOUT YOU” by The Kid LAROI rebounding to #13 thanks to that once-again uncredited remix with Miley Cyrus and finally, entering the top 10 for the first time is “Anywhere Away from Here” by Rag’n’Bone Man and P!nk at #9, getting the boost from a perfect trifecta of gains: Rag’n’Bone Man released his album on Friday then on Tuesday had the closing performance of this song at the BRIT Awards with additional vocals from the Lewisham and Greenwich NHS choir, who are also now appearing on a new release of the song the day after, prompting a whole lot of sales, of which I assume and hope are going to charity. It’s Rag’n’Bone Man’s third top 10 hit, P!nk’s 21st(!) and interestingly enough, the NHS choir’s second top 10 hit as they had the Christmas #1 back in 2015. With all of that out of the way, I suppose it’s time to get to our varied array of new arrivals.

NEW ARRIVALS

#74 – “Dick” – Starboi3 featuring Doja Cat

Produced by Nius and SoFLY

This week is kind of a weird week if that wasn’t immediately obvious as our new arrivals are kind of all over the place, starting with... well, I think I could say less about the song than the title does. Starboi3 is this SoundCloud rapper from New Jersey who made a song with Doja back in 2019 – I assume she was more accessible for features back then –and it didn’t blow up at all, really, giving Starboi3 some additional traction but not until 2020, in which Doja Cat got her #1 hit and TikTok picked up this explicit single as a new sound. Sadly – or thankfully – the song was never released officially onto streaming until very recently, meaning, surely, the hype’s over by now? The answer to that is no, as it’s climbing up charts in both the UK and the Bubbling Under in the US... so there’s got to be something good about this song, right? Well, no. Not at all. Of course, that is subjective, but I do question your sanity if you’re honestly enjoying this unlikeable nobody shout “Dick!” over a basic, no-melody trap instrumental with heavy 808s not too dissimilar to drill, before going into a beyond basic chorus and verse about, well, you can guess, with rhymes sounding either like an awful freestyle or a kid with a rhyming dictionary. “She not with him tonight, she not with Jim tonight”? Of course, that’s in the post-chorus because if there’s one thing this song needs, it’s a freaking post-chorus. I also don’t think Starboi3 realises that making her scream for her parents is quite the opposite of sexy – or even raunchy and mindless, as it’s actually just creepy and terrifying. Speaking of terrifying, Doja Cat is here and not even she can add a less basic flow with a verse that just ends up going in one ear and out the other, even if I do like the seductive backing vocals that at least try to make this not a slow, joyless slog. However, I do NOT like the Pickle Rick reference. To be fair, this was 2019, but also to be fair, never reference that again, I am begging you. This is a disaster on all fronts and probably one of the worst tracks I’ve had to review in this series. Good start!

#64 – “Freaks” – Surf Curse

Produced by Surf Curse

This new song is actually even older, being released initially as a deep cut from this Nevada duo’s 2013 album. As you’ll probably tell, this is charting off of people streaming after hearing the song on TikTok and, I mean, at least the song’s actually good this time, careening off of a clearly surf-inspired clean riff surrounded by some basic drumming and a good bassline. It’s not great as it does feel increasingly basic as I said, almost like one of those local bands that don’t get much national attention or traction but do play some gigs and get some love at those places, to the point where it’s kind of big if they play shows outside of their region... which makes sense because that is exactly what they are. This is just some band from Reno but here it is charting on the UK Singles Chart and while it’s here, I should say whilst there’s not much here to discuss given how minimal it is, Nick Rattigan’s vocals are fittingly desperate for the theme of social alienation and particularly rejection as it’s pretty obvious he’s aiming venom at himself for a bad break-up, although given the sound and tone of the song, probably his first, with that double meaning of the mantra in the outro, “I won’t wake up this time”, potentially being a crushing line for someone in similar circumstances. That’s not me, exactly, so this doesn’t hit, but I’m glad that Machine Gun Kelly song from last week got replaced with some actually decent alternative rock on the chart. I hope this does well.

#60 – “One Day” – Lovejoy

Produced by Cameron Nesbitt

“One Day” is the biggest track from new English rock band Lovejoy’s debut EP, Are You Alright?, and whilst I was planning on not mentioning the fact that the band is fronted by Minecraft YouTuber Wilbur Soot, that is the only reason it’s charting – and he’s charted with “Your New Boyfriend” a couple months back, a song that I actually kind of liked. It’s also immediately obvious in the writing that this comes from an Internet personality, with some not-so-well-woven detail and increasingly gratuitous self-awareness that eventually cycles back and ends up as seeming like they have none at all... okay, like most indie bands but that’s beside the point. This happens to be Wilbur’s least favourite song on the release – one that I haven’t listened to because even if I’m not too old for mindless pop music, Minecraft YouTuber alt-rock may be where I draw the line – and I can completely understand the distaste for this given that it starts with the line, “Why’d you have to kill my cat?” I also have some qualms with the song sonically as it may be the most derivative rock single I’ve heard on this series, given how obviously it rips from indie rock bands of the 2000s, with an oddly clean mix that doesn’t exactly fit the obvious stream-of-consciousness lyrics and Wilbur’s erratic delivery. Also, there’s a whole lot of trumpet on this song, which I guess is a surprise, but that doesn’t make up for a drummer who can clearly play very well but has to chaotically play over a song with practically no groove. I do like that second chorus in how it builds up to a somewhat anti-climactic guitar solo but as a full song I do not really get the appeal of this that I don’t get out of other post-punk revival bands from decades back who are still pumping out music. This isn’t bad – I swear, don’t dox me – but I just want something more compelling from this. I will always be glad regardless of the quality that we have more rock on the chart, though, even if this’ll be gone by next week.

#57 – “It’s a sin” – Years & Years and Elton John

Produced by Stuart Price and the Pet Shop Boys

One of my favourite performance from the BRIT Awards this year was Olly Alexander of Years & Years sharing the stage with the iconic Elton John to cover Pet Shop Boys’ “It’s a Sin” which had renewed interest from last year as it was the namesake for a hit TV series about HIV/AIDS, for which this fittingly played a role and has kind of been recontextualised as a gay anthem, which makes complete sense if you look at its lyrics about the Church telling Neil Tennant “how to be”. It’s also one of the Pet Shop Boys’ most camp and theatrical songs, so giving it to Years & Years and Elton John to cover for the BRIT Awards make all too much sense. No, they’re not able to live up to the theatricality of the original, especially if Alexander’s vocals are going to be this clearly manipulated at points, but with Elton John’s piano laying a perfect foundation for the rising intensity of the track, we do get a sense of that original melodrama, with the synth-work and house groove coming in before Elton John’s voice, sounding smokier and wiser with age, and in my opinion, more compelling as a vocalist, especially if they’re both going to sell this song with the most convicted of deliveries. I don’t think a cover could ever live up to that original iconic track but if anyone’s going to get close, it’s Elton John. Expect this to rise next week.

#50 – “Never Left” – Lil Tecca

Produced by ThankYouWill, Taz Taylor and Cxdy

I’ll always be annoyed that Lil Tecca blew up as a rapper instead of a producer, as I don’t think this guy has any likeability or charisma about his flow, cadence or delivery, and that’s only after you get over how dry and whiny his voice can get. However, he can make some great and incredibly infectious beats for other rappers, including a song I see becoming a hit soon in SoFaygo’s “Knock Knock”, which I will bet on at least making the Billboard Hot 100 if not the UK Singles Chart. It’s unbelievably catchy. With that said, Tecca is here in the form of some SoundCloud raps over a boring synth pluck and vaguely tropical Internet Money trap beat, sounding and flowing way too much like Gunna for his own benefit, or Gunna’s benefit, if we’re honest, as this shows how easily he can be replaced. I usually don’t write off this type of rap and will absolutely defend it, but this song isn’t even catchy or unique. I mean, I don’t like “Ransom” either but at least it was kind of fun and I still know the lines in the chorus a couple years later. I’ll forget all about this by next week if it doesn’t stick around. At least he shouts out Chief Keef. God, I hope he charts sometime, that’d be funny.

#45 – “All I Know So Far” – P!nk

Produced by Greg Kurstin

So, P!nk is back but not with a studio album, rather an upcoming live album in which the two new, original songs are about or featuring her daughter. This is the second single from said album and is probably coasting off her appearance at the BRITs in terms of a relatively high chart debut. I’ve never been that big a fan of P!nk but she has her classics, none of which are in the past 15 years but that’s beside the point. This single in particular is an acoustic ballad dedicated to her daughter in which P!nk provides a rapid intensity alongside pretty great-sounding acoustic guitars, pounding drums and strings that sells the content about empowering yourself, with some nice lyrical detail about always being yourself, basically, which would come off as cliché and preachy if it weren’t for some oddly specific lyrics in those verses and the chorus that basically just tell her daughter that despite the fact the world will constantly try to crack down on her and everything she does much like life does to anyone but especially women, she should stand up for herself and what she believes in. However, none of that cuts deep when she’s being raised by a millionaire, huh? There’s little Hell to be put through when you’re born with a silver spoon, huh, Willow? Regardless, this isn’t a bad pop song and its content isn’t as misguided as it is just sang by the wrong singer, although I’d find it hard to get a singer with as much rasp and wisdom in the mainstream to sell this as convincingly as P!nk does – vocally, not lyrically. This is a couple steps above that last single, “Cover Me in Sunshine” at least, which was just insidious. Next.

#32 – “Miss the Rage” – Trippie Redd featuring Playboi Carti

Produced by Loesoe

Okay, so all of our last three new arrivals are in the top 40 and we start with... o-okay, well, it’s 2021, anything can and will chart and I should know this by now, but it’s still surprising to see a song by these two guys debut so high, especially since Whole Lotta Red produced absolutely no charting hits in the UK outside of “@ MEH”, which doesn’t really count. This is Trippie’s highest-charting song ever in the UK that isn’t fronted by KSI, so I guess streaming must have been that good – also, the charts are still weak. For what it’s worth, I do like both Trippie and Carti to their respective extents, and I am aware that this is only as big as it was because of the hype from the leak, which also featured Mario Judah, and that in itself was a big song but it took years for Carti’s feature to be cleared by the label, as is infamously true for much of Carti’s work and even his last official collaboration with Trippie that was actually deleted after release. I’m still hoping on an official release for his verse on Yung Lean’s “Yayo”, but whilst we have this instead, I might as well talk about it and... Well, let me explain to you what I see as the appeal of these two rappers. That appeal is, mostly, that they don’t rap even though they both very much can. Trippie yells, moans, growls, screams and spends most of his work singing in his typical raspy, venomous voice, whilst Playboi Cart spits and coughs his way through substance-less ad-libs to the point where any actual wordplay or lyrical detail gets you excited for that brief moment. In this song, Trippie and Carti don’t eschew the typical role of a rapper and both just... rap normally, which would not be a complaint if they weren’t so bland in that role, which is the whole point of their unique, phlegm-filled deliveries in the first place. As a result, this song just ends up feeling empty, even if this awfully-mixed, bass-boosted beat with some lovely distorted video-game synths and hardly audible trap skitters does go incredibly hard. Don’t get me wrong: this is still catchy and Trippie flows very well over a beat that sounds made for him and Carti. Hell, Carti has grown on me so much recently that my fondness for this might just be me eating anything he releases up. With that said, he’s the worst part of the song as his baby-voice style emphasises how lacking this song is in just anything. I do like the wordplay at the tail-end of the verse as, yes, that happens, perhaps not as iconic as some of his other oddly profound or clever lines on his last record but at least it’s something. At least this is some interesting American trap, unlike...

#25 – “i n t e r l u d e” – J. Cole

Produced by J. Cole, Tommy Parker and T-Minus

The pandemic has affected the music industry to the point where big-name rappers release album interludes as lead singles. Said album has songs shorter than this interlude, with most of its dull filler feeling like additional interludes, quite unbefitting for such a big and hyped-up album from Cole which frankly is just another boring addition to an already consistently dull catalogue. I’m just not interested in what Cole has to say because he’s never been likeable and I feel like there’s better rappers that bridge the gap between old and new like how Cole sees himself as doing, the “MIDDLE CHILD”, perhaps, like, you know, Drake? If we want to go for a more direct comparison from lesser-known rappers, the direct comparison I use for this new record is Aminé’s latest, also made up of a variation of trap bangers featuring massive, charting names versus introspective, conscious lyrics, yet Aminé is an interesting character with quotable lyrics that aren’t embarrassing, knows how to write an actual hook and whilst he also brings on both classic and modern features, he’s never out-done by them, creating an actual bridge rather than just some guy who thinks he can write his own role in the industry and culture without his own music backing his case. Unfortunately for me, it works – every freaking time – largely because of his continually loyal fanbase but also a general public interest in the guy that I do not understand, especially when more than a decade into his career, he’s still pushing out mediocre projects. He cuts his album’s length by a ton and still ends up with a bloated record. I barely need to talk about the track itself, right? Even if it has as much structure and effort put into it as his normal songs do, it’s labelled quite literally as an interlude. Sigh, well, in this interlude, Jermaine raps over a drowned-out soul sample and admittedly, sticks to the topic of reminiscing on where he came from, the violence in Fayetteville, a similar violence of which was what killed Nipsey Hussle, who he compares amongst Pimp C and Jesus as they all died at 33. Cole himself is 36 so I guess for once he doesn’t think he’s Jesus. It took him a while to realise.

#12 – “Higher Power” – Coldplay

Produced by Max Martin, Oscar Holter and Bill Rahko

I assumed this would debut at #3 until the BRIT Awards performance gave it a boost to debut at the top but I guess everyone else had the same opinion of that awful opening performance as I did, because here it is at #12. Well, that doesn’t matter, right? Coldplay’s last album similarly underperformed... but at least that time, they had a genuinely ambitious album for once in their careers with some genuine experimentation and themes I did not expect to come out of Coldplay. It was a better album but not an accessible one, with its only pop single being a bittersweet anti-war anthem which trivialises bombing in the Middle East to onomatopoeia. It’s a great song but it wasn’t going anywhere, so it’s no surprise that their next lead single is a soulless synth-pop track produced by Max Martin. Admittedly, the synth tone in the intro is kind of unique in all its nasal 80s nostalgia, but, man, I thought we moved past just rehashing for a hit, Coldplay. This is pretty obviously just a crap attempt at being “Blinding Lights” which trades in its machine-gun loco-motive drum pattern for one that is a lot more stiff, and its iconic, memorable lyrics for a forgettable set of love-struck laziness. Oh, yeah, and Chris Martin is far from the Weeknd both in the studio and live at the BRIT Awards – seriously, dude sounded half-alive. This isn’t offensive, just a bore that is clearly a desperate label move ready for when they can tour again, and if their last record proved anything it was that Coldplay seemed like they were finally above that.

Conclusion

Well, that’s our week – again, a questionable one at best and kind of a bad one at worst. Either way, this is a strange array of songs and I do like how the UK Singles Chart subverts everything you’d expect of it so often that chaos becomes the trend, even if not all of it is any good. I guess Best of the Week goes to “Freaks” by Surf Curse, with an Honourable Mention to Elton John’s cover of “It’s a sin” with Years & Years. Surprisingly enough, J. Cole actually doesn’t get Worst of the Week as the album gets a lot worse than that interlude, so he gets a Dishonourable Mention alongside Starboi3’s “Dick” being crowned Worst of the Week, and honestly probably Worst of the Year so far, not that I’m keeping track of that. Here’s this week’s top 10:

What’s coming next week? More J. Cole, Olivia Rodrigo’s newest single and probably – and hopefully – some album tracks from Jorja Smith and Nicki Minaj. For now, though, thanks for reading. It’s a big week next week, and I’ll see you then!

[butchgwenwhyvar]

The Star Wars Prequels are a Greek Tragedy

Ok folks, buckle in because this classics nerd has made some Connections™

One of the main themes in the prequels (and by extension, the clone wars) is the inevitability of it all – I know it’s because it’s a prequel and as such, we know their fate, but that’s why it works.

(For the purpose of this meta post, please assume that when I say ‘the prequels’ and proceed to talk about Ahsoka or Rex, I mean ‘the prequels and the clone wars’ – it’s all part of the same story)

 (Important fact that relates to this meta post but doesn’t have much bearing on the actual argument #1: Anakin’s name comes from the Greek Goddess of inevitability, Ananke.)

 But the main argument is this: the prequels follow the format and pattern of a Greek tragedy. A Greek tragedy always has the audience take part in the form of the ‘chorus’ on stage – the chorus keep the story going and tell the audience what’s up, but they also provide an insight into the characters and question the characters on behalf of the audience (most tragedies are set in populated cities and palaces but a theatre troupe was traditionally around 5 people, so they had to get creative with extras and stuff). In the prequels and the clone wars, the role of the chorus is directly on the audience because we know what’s going to happen. We know about order 66 thanks to the start of season 6 and the end of season 7. We know that the sweet nine year old we meet in the phantom menace will become Vader. We know that Padme will die and that the Republic will fall and Palpatine will take power.

 To us, the chorus, it’s inevitable. But we also know the future of the characters, so there’s a thread of dramatic irony woven in (dramatic irony is a central part of the format of a Greek tragedy) because we know about the original trilogy and the fact that Luke will save Vader and the Empire gets royally fucked up by the rebels.

In Greek tragedy, the dramatic irony is a little less on the nose though. In Oedipus the King (Oedipus Rex in Latin), the chorus and the audience know what’s going to happen from the start. By the time Sophocles had written down the play it had already been performed at least once at the Dionysia, an Athenian play festival where everyone got very drunk and people ran play contests – Sophocles was a common contributor to the contests, and it was recorded that he never got below second place. So as this play is being performed in the late third century BCE, it’s been around for around 100 years. The audience knows what’s up – they know that Jocasta is actually Oedipus’ mother, they know that Oedipus is actually the one that killed Laius and is bringing down the gods’ displeasure on Thebes. So when Oedipus and Creon are talking to Tiresias and saying ‘well, someone has to be cursed because that’s the only way we’ve pissed the gods off enough,’ the audience (and to an extent Tiresias, because he was a prophet) get a sense of dramatic irony. It’s similar to the scene in Attack of the Clones when Dooku’s talking about the sith in the senate – we as the chorus and the audience go ‘It’s Palpatine!’ because we’ve seen the originals and we know about the fall of the republic.

The sense of dramatic irony really helps to build the inevitability of it all because as the chorus, we know the future of these characters.

 Another thing that characterises the prequels as a specifically Greek tragedy is the use of fatal flaws and how they relate to the character’s virtues. Anakin’s main character traits are his general mistrust of authority, his sense of personal loyalty and his need to help others – he’s proven that he’d burn the galaxy down for his family and the people he loves, and there’s quite a few poignant scenes in the clone wars EU novels where he’s mourning the clones and generally caring a lot about them (if you want specific novels, Karen Miller’s ‘Clone Wars: Gambit – Stealth’ is excellent and is the source of that excellent ‘blind me and I’ll tell you who laughed’ quote, and Karen Traviss’ novelisation of the clone wars movie has lots of scenes with Anakin being a good bro to Rex and caring about the 501st). Padme’s main trait is her belief in human decency (we’re using human in this case because I’m relating it back to humans) – she cares deeply about seeing the good in people, up to her dying moments. Obi-Wan’s main trait is his dedication to the Order and their rules.

However, if you turn these traits on their heads, you get their fatal flaws and their ultimate downfall. Vader’s issues with authority and his need to save those he cares about lands him in the suit and as the Emperor’s attack dog. Padme can’t see the problems in the republic and all the things going wrong with Anakin until it’s too late because she’s so focussed on seeing the good in what’s left. Obi-Wan fails as Anakin’s mentor because he was too focused on the way things should have been (let the record show I am not shitting on Obi-Wan, this is just my thoughts about the narrative and this part of the Skywalker debacle).

In Oedipus Rex and Antigone (written before Oedipus, set after Oedipus – it’s about his daughter), the same thing happens. Oedipus’ loyalty to Thebes and his unwavering sense of duty makes him an excellent king – he listens to his people and takes their complaints into account. Creon’s ability to stick to the rules and provide a safe kingdom makes him the perfect second choice as king (this will make more sense when I talk about Antigone because Creon is a main character in this play as well – his character arc spans the two plays). Jocasta is kind and sees the best in everyone (I’m sensing a theme). But if you turn that on its head, all the ugly details come out. Oedipus has inadvertently committed one of the worst sins that the gods can think of a punishment for, and he’s promised the people of Thebes that whoever has cursed the land will be banished for life. When he finds out that his wife is also his mother and he murdered his birth father years ago, he blinds himself in shame but asks to stay in Thebes. This is where Creon’s flaw starts to appear – Oedipus asks to stay and Creon casts him out. Oedipus keeps his loyalty to the Thebans by maiming himself and marking himself as the cursed person, but he doesn’t think his actions through. If he’s banished, his four children will also be banished with him and will suffer for the rest of their lives. Staying is the only option. But Creon is too obsessed with placating the Thebans and the gods, so Oedipus and his children are cast out because of Creon’s determination to stick to the rules. Jocasta’s need to see the best in everyone leads to her denying that her husband is also her son, even once she’s put the pieces together – there’s a scene where she’s talking to her main and her maid asks and she refuses to acknowledge it. This leads to her killing herself in shame once the news has gotten out. It’s inevitable. The audience know and love this play. They know what’s coming.

And then Antigone happens. Antigone is Oedipus’ eldest daughter. Her siblings are Ismene, the youngest, Eteocles, and Polynices. Eteocles and Polynices have declared war on each other (Eteocles is fighting for Thebes, where Creon is the king now) and have killed each other. Eteocles is to be buried with full honours, while Polynices’ body is to be left in the dust (the Greeks believed that being buried in the dirt was the only way to get into the afterlife). So Antigone tries to bury Polynices over the course of the story – her main character trait is her loyalty and her persistence. Creon is still too wedded to the rules, but now he’s also stuck on his own idea of power – the king’s word above all else, even the gods.

The play ends with Antigone’s suicide after being banished  to a sealed cave for the rest of her life (she keeps covering Polynices’ body in dirt until Creon gets sick of it and sends her to the cave). Her loyalty and her tenacity have become her downfall and led to her death (for those interested, Antigone’s death led to Creon burying Polynices properly). Creon’s virtues of being a rule-following king lead to him essentially going mad with power, which leads to his son killing himself after he hears of Antigone’s sentence, his wife killing herself after she hears of Haemon’s death, and Creon’s apparent suicide (he gets an open ending but it’s widely accepted that he dies as well).

 Relating this back to Star Wars and the point I made earlier: the prequels are pretty much the only Star Wars media where the character’s virtues become their flaws. It’s very hubristic and I love it. Ahsoka’s virtue is in her persistence and her drive to survive while trying to do what’s right – turn it on its head and she’s unleashing Maul on a bunch of 66’d clones to escape. On first watch, Rex’s virtue seems to be his loyalty to the Republic, but that’s brought into contention in season 1. His actual virtue is his loyalty to his brothers but that’s turned on its head in episodes 11 and 12 when he’s forced to shoot and stun them and know that they’re going to die and there’s nothing he can do to save them, which almost leads to him giving up entirely in episode 12.

 And that leads me back to my main point. George Lucas wrote the prequels and most of the clone wars like the archetype of the Greek tragedy on purpose, to show the inevitability of the story.

The main parts of a Greek tragedy are as follows: Hubris (personal pride leading to a downfall)

The Chorus and the use of dramatic irony

Virtues as fatal flaws

Catharsis

 The main parts of the prequels are as follows:

Hubris (the Jedi and the Republic’s pride lead to their downfall, Anakin and Obi-Wan’s pride leads to Mustafar)

The Audience and the use of dramatic irony

Virtues as fatal flaws

Catharsis

Hope

 Back to inevitability: the use of virtues as flaws leads to the inevitability of the tragedy of Anakin Skywalker. He can’t not be loyal and caring to the point of obsession, jealousy, and overprotectiveness. Padme can’t not deeply believe in the power of human kindness and their ability to believe in a better system. Obi-Wan can’t not be wedded to the rules far too much. To take all of this away from their characters is to leave them as completely different people. An Anakin that doesn’t care as much is an Anakin that’s closer to the ‘perfect Jedi,’ a Padme that doesn’t believe in a better system is a Padme that lets even more atrocities fly under the radar in the senate. An Obi-Wan that’s not wedded to the Code and the Order and the Rules is an Obi-Wan seen in the early Jedi Apprentice books – a Jedi always on the brink of snapping, falling, or expulsion from the Order. So you see these character traits and you see what’s coming and it’s inevitable because these virtues and therefore flaws are what makes the character them, which progresses the story.

 The use of dramatic irony also highlights the inevitability within the stories of the prequels and the tragedies. The audience of the films and the chorus/audience of the plays know what the characters don’t. They know that Oedipus is Jocasta’s son. They know that Antigone and the rest of Creon’s family will kill themselves. We know Anakin will fall. We know Padme will die. We know about the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire. But they don’t and that’s why the dramatic irony works so well. We’re on the edge of our seats, waiting for the moment when it all clicks – when someone listens to Fives about the chips and takes action – when Anakin gets help – where Padme survives – where Obi-Wan puts aside the Order and tries to help Anakin and reassures him. But it never happens, and we know that.

Every time we watch the prequels or the clone wars, we think ‘maybe this time it will turn out alright’ but it’s inevitable that it won’t because it’s written like a Greek tragedy and those always end in the darkest possible way.

 There’s another common thread between the prequels and Greek tragedy as well – catharsis. It’s the breaking point and the aftermath, where consequences are dealt out. The catharsis in Oedipus is obvious – it’s when Oedipus blinds himself and is banished. The catharsis in Antigone is subtler but infinitely more painful. Creon is punished for disobeying the gods and as his punishment, Antigone (his son’s fiancée), Haemon (his son), and his wife are all dead, all by their own hand. This brings him shame and it’s widely accepted that he goes off and kills himself, which is even more of a punishment (suicide was not welcomed in the Greek afterlife – they’d often go to the Fields of Punishment or the Fields of Asphodel). The catharsis in the prequels is glaringly obvious in comparison. Anakin faces massive consequences for his actions, which stay with him for the next 25 or so years. He can’t go back to the way everything was, because he’s burnt it all down around him. He’s punished psychologically and physically until his death, as punishment for his mistakes and his actions. The audience feels catharsis here as well, as Anakin doesn’t get away with his actions. His end is especially cathartic, not just because he got his comeuppance, but because he dies to undo a little bit of the horrors he’s committed.

 So the prequels and a Greek tragedy always end in tears, and the quote at the start of the Revenge of the Sith novelisation (thank you Matthew Stover) sums this up perfectly. ‘This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it. The inevitability of all of these stories I’ve talked about is woven into it’s very fabric, and nothing can be done to change it.

 However, there is one way in which the prequels are different to a typical tragedy – the prequels end with a shred of hope. Tragedies have to finish with the catharsis and complete and utter bleakness and the destruction of a heap of lives – Creon’s family dies, Oedipus loses his wife and his sight, Anakin and Palpatine destroy the Jedi – it’s one of the hallmarks that makes it a tragedy and not just ‘some play by Sophocles.’ The prequels finish with Bail and Breha and Leia in the palace on Alderaan. They finish with Luke with Beru and Owen on Tatooine, where Shmi and Anakin were from. They finish with hope, which is a complete turnaround from the tragedies that the story is written to fit in with.

[kevinbingham]

The story of how white terrorists overthrew the US Government

Originally from here.

WOW. I knew some bits of this, but not all of it with the big picture. It is well worth the read. It’s a 2000 word essay (approximately 4 pages). ________________________________________

@michaelharriot 9:24 PM · Oct 21, 2019 ------ Thread:

A lot of white people were shocked to learn about the bombing of Tulsa from HBO's "Watchmen" while most black people are familiar with the bombing of Black Wall Street.

Even historians mention these events as isolated incidents. ------- Racial terrorism is actually normal in American history but I believe we talk about in the wrong way.  These are not isolated incidents , nor are they rare.

This is the story of how a national campaign by whites terrorists overthrew the US government ------- A few weeks ago, Donald Trump tweeted that there would be a coup if he was ousted from the presidency and media outlets portrayed him as crazy. It it is NOT crazy to think that a race war is possible.

It has happened FOUR TIMES in history. ------- The first race war was the genocide of native Americans. The Civil War was the second. But I want to talk about the third one because it was actually an overthrow of the US government. ------- When we talk about racial injustice in America, we usally start with slavery and then go to the Jim Crow era. But we often forget that there was a period after the Civil War where white racists actually overthrew the government. This is not hyperbole. ------- First, we must remember that blacks were a LARGE part of Southern states right after the World War Wyipipo ((If they can call it "the War against Northern Aggression" then I can call it what I want).

Ala., Fla., Ga., & La. were more than 40% black. SC & MS were MAJORITY black ------- Because racial terrorists hadn't taken black people's right to vote SEVENTEEN black people served in Congress between 1870 and 1898.

All of these were Republicans (We'll get to what happened later). ------- In many states, including Mississippi, 90% of black eligible voters were registered to vote. Part of this was because Union troops were still in the South after the War for White Supremacy (Again, I call it what I want, you call it what you want). ------- And this "black wave" didn't just happen in Congress. It started happening on the local and state level, too. To combat this, white people enacted poll taxes, literacy tests and...

Nah, I'm just bullshitting.  

They just started killing black people. ------- Now history books often mention these incidents as "riots" or "racial violence," but the FBI defines terrorism as acts "inspired by or associated with primarily US-based movements that espouse extremist ideologies of a political, religious, social, racial or environmental nature" ------- In 1866 during the Louisiana Constitutional Convention, ex-Confederates, police officers and regular, store-brand white folks attacked black Republicans in New Orleans. They killed any women, kids & black person they could find.

238 people were killed, most of whom were black ------- Historians estimate the Pulaski, Tenn. KKK committed 1,300 murders during the run-up to the 1868 election.

The same year, in St. Bernard Parish, white Democrats dragged somewhere between 35 and 200 black people from their homes and killed them to prevent them from voting ------- In Opelousas, La.  members of the "Knights of the White Camelia" along with white Democrats killed 200-300 black people and slaughtered 27 prisoners in the fall of 1868.

It happened all over SC. Altogether, 1500 were killed to prevent them from voting ------- One of the things you must remember is that in many of these state, the Union soldiers in charge of upholding the law were black.

Can you imagine how salty white confederates must have been to fight for white supremacy and then have negroes lording over them as a reminder? ------- Not to mention the fact that these black people were now controlling politics. Remember, in many of these states, black people were OUTVOTING these traiterous-ass white supremacists.

Some of them decided to overthrow the government. ------- In Laurens County SC, THOUSANDS of white KKK sympathizers attacked black freedman after the white people's plan to stuff the ballot box failed. No one knows how many black people were killed in the resulting mass murder, but the Governor had to declare martial law in the county. ------- In NC, there was an actual 2-Year war. In the Kirk-Holden war (look it up, it's CRAZY), the army had to come in and fight the KKK.

Racist white Democrats took up arms, ARRESTED the leader of the army (Kirk), impeached NC's governor(Holden) and removed him from office. ------- Ark. had to form a militia to fight the KKK. They basically had to travel across the state fighting the Klan. But they didn't just intimidate blacks from voting, they had another plan: They just assassinated black candidates.

The Arkansas "Militia Wars" lasted almost 2 years. ------- Now, in all of these incidents, NO whites were ever charged, and white, racist Democrats managed to overthrow the will of the majority using violence and intimidation.

But none of those stories compare to what happened to the Original 33 in Georgia. ------- In 1868, a few years before Outkast had their first hit, the citizens of Georgia elected 30 black state representatives and 3 black senators to the state legislature.  

24 were ministers. Y'all know white folks weren't having this: ------- First,  they expelled 26 representatives.

Then they removed the 3 senators.

10 days later, they removed the final "mulatto" representatives from offices.

Then they started killing them. One-quarter of those black elected officials were jailed, beaten or shot. ------- Then, the Ga. Supreme Court ruled that the elected officials had no right to hold office because their  veins held" African or blood."

So the representatives decided to go on a protest march to attend a Republican convention. ------- Now this wasn't just legislators, it was supporters too. You see, a lot of these men had been enslaved, so imagine how proud those black people must have been to see these brave men fighting for their rights.

Of course, the white people were incensed! ------- Knowing this, the black people brought their guns. Of course, during this time, this was perfectly normal... Kinda.

ONE reason these men were elected into office was that, after the Great "Can-I-Keep-My-Slave" War (I call it what I want, dammit!) there was an unspoken rule: ------- Knowing this, the black people brought their guns. Of course, during this time, this was perfectly normal... Kinda.

ONE reason these men were elected into office was that, after the Great "Can-I-Keep-My-Slave" War (I call it what I want, dammit!) there was an unspoken rule: ------- So, to combat this, one of those state senators reportedly had FOUR HUNDRED armed guards with him. I guess he figured that they couldn't ask each one individually but we know the whites don't play by the rules. ------- Remember, these people were walking 25 miles to a POLITICAL rally, when they encountered a white "citizens committee."

Now, if you're white, that might not sound scary, but trust me, black people know that ANY white person who refer to themselves as a "citizen" is up to no good. ------- So the citizens committee told the black people to hand over their guns, which the black crowd refused. The white Democrats were like: "aight, we tried," and let them past.

The black people thought: "Damn, that was too easy. If I know white folks, they are up to something." ------- Of course they were.

A little further down the road, in all-white town of Camilla, the sheriff had deputized damn near all of the white "citizens" and handed out guns.

When the black legislators and marchers came through, they massacred them ------- But they didn't just stop there. For WEEKS white Democrats roamed the Georgia countryside beating, murdering, lynching and killing any black person who even looked like they might vote. ------- Some of y'all know this, and some of y'all don't but in the entire history of America, this was the ONLY non-wartime incident  that the President of the United States suspended the constitutional right to Habeas Corpus (the right to be detained without being charged with a crime) ------- That's right. A white supremacist army is the only army that ever defeated the US army.

In 1874 the FIVE THOUSAND members of the Democratic "White League" literally overthrew the Republican Lousiana Governor in the Battle of Liberty Place. ------- In Colfax, La., the same year, the White League killed 150 black people and assasinated Republican candidates

The same thing happened that year in Coushactta, La.

So why do I say the KKK won?

Is it a bit extreme to say they "overthrew the government?" -------- Well, not only did these terrorists use violence to oust democratically elected candidates from office but they changed the course of history.

In the 1876 election,  racist Democrats cheated so bad that the Electoral College was basically disbanded. ------- For instance, SC stuffed the ballot box xo bad that 101 percent of eligible voters were represented. In Fla and Georgia, they just created their own ballots. Some of the Southern states just REFUSED to give Republicans their electoral votes, regardless of the results. ------- Instead, Congress decided to let a 15-member group go into a back room and decide what to do (It's a little more complicated than this, but not really. They LITERALLY let some white men decide who would be president because of this racial terrorism) ------- And Rutherford B Hayes was declared the winner 185 electoral votes to Tilden's 184

And to make up for a Republican president, Congress and Hayes agreed to do 5 things:

1. Put a Democrat in the cabinet (Hayes did it.) 2. Remove the troops from the South (Hayes did it) -------

3. Build a transcontinental railroad through the south (It never happened) 4. Help build the south from an agrarian economy to an industrial economy (Congress didn't do it)

But the fifth item is why I say the racist terrorists overthrew the government and beat won ------- The South wanted the Congress and the president to assure them that they would not interfere in how Southern states treated its black citizens.

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Jim Crow. ------- Now, this kind of racial violence would go on for nearly a century without federal intervention, all because of "compromise" in 1876 when the racist Democrats overthrew the government.

Oh, I haven't forgotten what I said earlier. ------- You see, in 1948, Harry Truman integrated the armed forces and those Southern racists Democrats hated that. They could see that integration was coming, so they decided to form their own party: The Dixiecrats ------- By 1964, almost every Southern Democrat had switched to the Republican party. Their platform was the same as those racial terrorists from the 1860s: They believed they should be able to do whatever they wanted to black people.

Yes, the South seceded again. ------- 100 years after terrorists started their quest to overthrow the government, no Democratic presidential candidate would ever win a majority of white voters in ANY state again.

EVER. ------- So when Republicans talk about how Democrats used to be racists, they are partially correct. But I don't think of them as Democrats or Republicans,  I just refer to them as "Racist Whites."

Since the beginning of this country, they have never been on the side of Democracy ------- And these incidents have nothing to do with hate. They are an orchestrated terrorist campaign to keep power. Whether its voter suppression or mass murder, they've done it before and they are still doing it.

And that, my friend, is called "white supremacy" ------- *correction: No Democratic president has won a majority of white voters in any SOUTHERN state since 1964 ------- By the way, I’m not some kind of history genius.

I didn’t know most of this information until a few months ago when phone calls with @HenryLouisGates and @AfricanaCarr sent me down this rabbit hole.

Now THEY are geniuses -------