#the abusive parenting thing kinda rang really strong and this ended up happening

[elendsessor]

so uh me and my family went to go see ghost busters world iceborne today and it was fine kinda??

i do want to talk about it since i have a lot of feelings about it despite only seeing this and the original

but first actual thing that genuinely is awful that i do want to make known: if you’ve seen trailers you might know that the movie got sponsored by booking.com and yes they do shoehorn it in the movie. booking.com has very positive ties to israel because y’know travel agency and is one of several companies the bds suggests pressure boycotting so please please please do not ignore that fact about the movie please please please please do not support booking.com. do boycott booking.com.

uh spoilers below the cut i guess?

ok actual positives because i fucjing loved the ghost designs. cgi wasn’t great at points (main bad guy ghost dude i forget the name of looked best when obscured in shadows and not actually shown in detail) but the designs were at least done well. and phoebe and melody’s relationship was cute yet was done so fucking dirty. the movie did have good jokes and the acting was really solid, the world building is cool, and yeah if you turn your brain off for most of the film it’s fun. only when there’s action and ghosts is it actually compelling i noticed and it’s really sad since a good chunk of the movie is not that.

there’s too much plot ok. it’s your run of the mill family drama with ghosts sometimes there. i’m tired of the family is forever shit when it isn’t found family or paints the parents as “flawed but well meaning” and having the dad be lovingly stupid (gary’s technically not the biological dad but he does do dumb dad—pretty much flanderized homer simpson you know the trope), the mom strict to a fault but is right in the end, and incompetent brother who’s trying his best but needs a little help. most families are not like this. most families are dysfunctional in their own ways. you don’t have to have physically abusive parents or unsupportive parents to have shitty parents. painting families in this very generic way sets a really really unhealthy expectation that if your parents aren’t openly pieces of shit you aren’t allowed to hate them or if you defy them you’re automatically in the wrong.

but then there’s phoebe. oh is there phoebe.

i hate how in movies now to get across female empowerment is just make the girl super smart and be shoved in the spotlight too often. she is not interesting at all i’m sorry. you can tell she’s the smart one because she wears glasses and likes science isn’t that quirky? seriously when are we going to just get a strong female lead who has interests that aren’t tomboyish or *insert school subject here*? filmmakers do know that girls and women are also human beings with a wide range of individual likes and dislikes that can’t be reduced to tropes right??? again creating the unrealistic expectation that women cannot be treated like normal people unless they’re uber smart or uber strong. this is a problem for all minoritized group representation and i really cannot hate anyone who doesn’t like how the film industry is trying to bend over backwards for groups to force in representations that only hurt them.

biggest sin is she is not interesting on her own. she is so tropey it’s a fucking travesty. melody the ghost girl was the only compelling person—the only one who made phoebe somewhat interesting to watch—and of course she’s not safe from being a trope. i don’t like how melody has to have direct ties to bad guy mcbad and the sudden turnaround that, while it paid off for her, was rushed to hell and back for the drama.

and worst of all, there was homoerotic tension between phoebe and melody and nothing ever happens.

please just let them hold hands.

i know this is a mainstream movie so two people of the same sex even brushing up against one another is a crime but.

they were cute together and fueled several ghost au fanfic ideas.

damn you film industry.

[theahsokageneration]

I Am Not He

After being inspired by @lmhersch‘s fanfic, A Warm Embrace, I wrote my first ficlet in years. It was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it. 

Eli had really blown it this time.

As his shuttle docked inside the Chimera, he spent his last seconds alone with his bloodshot and baggy eyes closed, sucking in air and letting it back out as slowly as he could, determinedly stifling yawns. No use in looking like he’d been put in his place before he had.

Air hissed around him in a puff of steam as the door opened, and Eli opened his eyes and walked off the shuttle and through the hanger bay. Would Thrawn send someone for him?

No sooner had Eli wondered than someone approached him. “Commander Vanto, the admiral will see you on the bridge.”

“Thank you,” Eli said as confidently as he could muster. His breath was carefully controlled on his way to the bridge. Thrawn seemed to like him for some reason, but Thrawn was also ruthless. He wouldn’t turn a blind eye to the commander who’d let Nightswan get away clean… again. If Thrawn were Darth Vader, Eli knew he’d already be dead.

Upon his arrival on the bridge, Thrawn approached him immediately. “Commander Vanto,” he said. Cool and confident, as usual. Figures he’d start calm. He pretty much always did. Eli almost wished he’d cut right to the point.

“I see you have returned, and Nightswan has once again eluded us,” Thrawn continued. “What about your position rendered you incapable of successfully apprehending him?”

For all his attempts to look calm, Eli felt his face burn red. “I don’t know, sir.”

Thrawn rose one eyebrow and Eli lowered his eyes to Thrawn’s insignia plaque. Even so, he felt the Chiss’s glowing red eyes staring at him. “Why don’t you think harder,” Thrawn suggested softly. It wasn’t a suggestion.

“Well…” Eli began, his brain frantic. “Um, Nightswan did have a cloaking device on the ship he was using. He’s never used one of those before, and none of us expected it, so he got right by and no one saw until he was out of range of our tractor beam.” The words poured out of him like water and to his horror, he didn’t stop. “We had other ships in position, of course, but by the time word reached them that Nightswan was escaping, it was too late for them to pull him in. And we didn’t want to fire for fear of igniting the gas and blowing everything up, us included.”

“I see,” Thrawn replied. “Thank you, Commander. You may go.”

He… what? Eli left the bridge and, in the absence of any other order, walked back to his cabin in a daze. Sitting down hard onto his bed, Eli stared suspiciously at the wall across from him. Was Thrawn playing games with him?

No yelling. No cursing. Really, he couldn’t imagine Thrawn doing those things, at least, not like most people. Not like his parents. No, Thrawn’s style was more understated. He’d keep his voice level and calm as always and inform Eli he was being demoted, or something. Had let him down, at the very least.

What in blazes had that trademark “I see” meant, anyway? Thrawn saw… what, exactly? Eli grabbed his pillow and threw it across the room. Saw that he wasn’t worth talking to, probably.

He hadn’t slept in over 30 hours, and sleep tugged at his brain despite the current crisis with Thrawn. Eli let himself crash into bed and didn’t bother picking up the pillow before dejectedly falling asleep.

Some hours later, he woke. Thrawn would be off duty. Eli sat back up and stretched his neck. He wasn’t a man to let things go unsaid when it’d be easier for everyone for them to be out in the open. He had to talk to Thrawn.

As he had countless other times for less miserable circumstances, Eli walked the distance from his cabin to Thrawn’s, and knocked softly on the door, hoping the Chiss would be awake.

“You may enter,” came Thrawn’s voice from the other side. Eli pushed the button to open the door and walked inside.

Thrawn was sitting at his desk in light brown pants and a sleeveless top, a hologram of some obscure culture’s art floating in front of him. A mechanical voice speaking SyBisti told a story Eli had never heard, and with one tap on his datapad, Thrawn silenced it. “Commander Vanto. You should be asleep, should you not? Humans require roughly 8 hours of sleep per every 24, and you have only slept 5 in the last 40.”

Eli gulped. “What was that business on the bridge earlier all about?” he forced out as quickly as he could.

If he hadn’t before, he had Thrawn’s full attention now. The Chiss rose his eyebrow again, in what looked to Eli like confusion, though he deemed that impossible. “What business are you referring to? I thought it was obvious why I sent you from the bridge. You required rest.”

“Ok, but how come you don’t seem concerned with how I let Nightswan get out from under us, again?” Eli pressed, fists clenching. He was getting angry now. Angry that Thrawn was going to play this off like nothing. “You trusted me to take him in and I failed you. Don’t act like you don’t care. You don’t want nothing more than you want that Nightswan taken to justice.” Eli winced as his Wild Space drawl intensified with his vehemence.

Thrawn’s expression didn’t change. “I had thought my reasoning obvious. I asked you to explain to me what rendered you incapable of success, and you informed me of the circumstances which lead to your failure. I have taken your explanation into account, and will adjust future attempts accordingly such that the miscalculations will not be repeated.”

“I done made a mess of this whole carefully planned out operation, and you ain’t gonna say nothing on it? Make me wait for it to finally come out some other day? What I said up there on the bridge about how he got away is true but you and I both know you could have got him anyway.”

Thrawn’s eyebrow lowered. Whatever had caused Thrawn’s confusion, he now understood. “You misunderstand, Commander Vanto. Given what you have told me of the situation, in addition to what I know firsthand, I am quite confident that Nightswan could not have been caught under the circumstances we found ourselves in earlier. Not by you, nor by me. Indeed, I chose you to go where I was not because I knew that the only way in which you would fail is if success were impossible.”

“Wh- What?” Eli stammered.

Thrawn nodded as if to affirm his last statement. “Your failure is more a reflection of Nightswan’s strength than of your weakness. I had thought you understood this. As a warrior, one must be prepared to accept both victory and defeat. One will encounter each at various times. Victory is an end unto itself, or can often lead to greater victory later. Defeat is to be learned from. From yours, we have learned more of what Nightswan is capable of, as well as how not to approach him in the future.”

Eli let silence hang while he worked out Thrawn’s meaning. “So you’re not mad?” he asked more bluntly.

“Certainly not. What of my conduct gave you that assumption?” Thrawn asked in return. The question seemed genuine.

Waves of relief coursed through Eli and his fists unclenched. To Thrawn’s question, he shrugged. “Habit, I guess,” he muttered.

“From whom has this habit been learned?” Thrawn pressed. “That individual most likely was not a capable leader if he impressed such a habit upon you.”

Memories flashed through Eli’s head, and the world became blurred. He blinked it back into clarity. “My father,” he muttered again, this time in SyBisti, as he shifted his weight between his legs.

“Ah,” the Chiss acknowledged. “I am not he, Eli,” he continued in SyBisti.

It had been a while since Thrawn had referred to him as “Eli.” If he wasn’t careful, he’d start crying again. Weak as ever. “I know that, Thrawn. I did choose you, after all,” he said.

Thrawn stood, and stepped one foot closer to Eli. Gently, he patted the top of Eli’s head as he hadn’t done since… the Academy, probably. “I am and have been grateful for that choice,” Thrawn whispered.

“It was the right one,” Eli heard himself say.

“You ought to sleep, Eli,” Thrawn said, dropping his hand to Eli’s shoulder.

Before he’d stopped to think, Eli wrapped his arms around Thrawn’s waist for less than a second before releasing him and stepping back. In Basic, he said, “Yes, sir,” and pushed to open the door.

In a motion unusual for him, the corners of Thrawn’s mouth lifted. “Good night, Commander,” he said as the doors closed.

[rjr1396]

The Tragedy Behind Almost

Throughout all 16 years of Makoto's life, he never really gave his soulmate and the topic in general much thought. When he was younger, it was just something his mom would mention whenever he got a new bruise he didn't remember the cause of. After his parents died, the idea of having a soulmate gave him some comfort despite being passed around from relative to relative once they got bored or annoyed with him. His soulmate became more of an annoyance when he started his teen years, who in their right mind gets this injured this often? He did suspect abuse for a while but something told him that wasn't quite right.

The moment he saw Akihiko get injured, it all made sense.

At first he was miffed, out of all people why him? Granted it wasn't fair of him to say something like that about his soulmate, the universe had to have a reason, right? The main thing he dreaded was dealing with an overgrown energetic puppy with an affinity for fighting, but the more he observed his senior, the more he started to like the boxer.

There came the other problem: feelings. He had never dealt with them before which he was grateful for at the time, but now he was clueless and filled with a cluster of emotions that he didn't sign up for. The only sort of comfort was that Yukari seemed to be having a similar problem when it came to a certain redhead.

"You know when I first met Kirijo-senpai, I was awkward around her because of, well you know, but I got used to it, now I can't look her in the eye without blushing!" Yukari whined as they had lunch together on the roof.

"Look at it this way: at least you're gonna be set for life." He stated bluntly.

"Makoto!" She gasped before smacking his arm. She looked out into the distance before turning back to him with a sad smile. "You know, we might not end up together..." He raised an eyebrow for her to continue. "Some soulmates don't end up together. Apparently senpai's parents weren't soulmates, it was an arranged marriage. Knowing that, I'd guess that senpai will probably end up having one too."

"And you're ok with that?"

"Of course not! It honestly feels like such a slap in the face, like 'here's your soulmate right in front of you, but you won't ever get to have her.' It's not like she knows anyways..." She sighed. "Even if she did know, kinda doubt she'd want me."

"Who knows, she might. She does seem to take what you say to heart." He tried reassuring her. She shrugged.

"Well, I still won't tell her just yet. I need to sort out my own feelings." She nudged him. "So are you gonna tell him?"

“God no. The only thing he loves is getting stronger, fighting, and protein. I mean c’mon, how can I possibly compete with that?” he deadpanned causing her to snort. 

-----

Akihiko wasn’t sure why he kept looking after his leader. He thought it was because he admired his strength, but that didn’t seem right. He knew about soulmates, however, getting stronger is what mattered more to him than some random fantasy. Then came the full moon mission at the love hotel when he felt someone slap his face despite Mitsuru having not touched him, but when he saw the hand print shape on Makoto’s face, he didn’t know how to feel.

“What do you think about soulmates, Mitzi?” he asked Mitsuru one day when his thoughts wouldn’t shut up after having seen Makoto hang out with the foreign exchange student, he smiled at him! Sure it was a small smile, but that’s more than he’s ever shown to me. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Have you met yours?” 

“I have my... suspicions. Have you?” she sighed and looked away.

“I suspect that it’s Takeba. I had a small hunch when she got hit by a shadow the first time I went with them, and I had confirmed it when she was hit with a Mudo spell because it was the worst thing I ever experienced.” her jaw clenched as she remembered the dread and pain she felt watching Yukari fall to the ground.

“I’m pretty sure mine’s Yuki.” he admitted. She turned to him surprised.

“Our leader Yuki.” he nodded. She chuckled. “Honestly, it’s not that surprising considering your tastes, Akihiko.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You would only go for someone if they were as strong or even stronger than yourself. Yuki is one of the strongest on the team, if not the strongest. So do you plan on telling him?”

“Are you gonna tell her?” she pauses.

“I did consider the option. Having her so close, and with Yuki’s help, it allowed me the courage to reject my arranged marriage. However, I don’t know if she’ll want more than the friendship we have now, I mean, it took us almost the entire year to get to this point.”

“I feel like we’re both hopeless, aren’t we?” she glared at him.

“Speak for yourself.”

-----

‘Makoto, wait!’

Seeing Makoto lie in the coffin was one of the hardest things Akihiko had to ever endure. Every could’ve been, would’ve been, should’ve been moments, wannabe fantasies played in his mind as he looked at his almost lover. He wishes that they had had more time to spend together, to cross the line and become more than just friends.

‘Don’t go, please!’

“I never told you. I was a coward and never said anything!” he punched the pillar nearby. “It isn’t fair! Miki, Shinji, and now you, why?!” he punched it a few more times before collapsing.

Don’t go where I can’t follow...

-----

“Tell Yukari.” Akihiko burst into her room after the funeral. “Don’t make my mistake.” and as soon as he came in, he left. Mitsuru sighed as she hugged herself. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

“Makoto was his soulmate, huh?” Mitsuru turned to see Yukari at her door.

“Yes, he was.” she sighed. “I don’t know how to help him, if I should. When it came to Shinjiro, he mourned in his own way and took it in stride, but this is different. He’s filled with regret, and frustrated with himself.” she gestured for Yukari to join her on the couch. “How are you feeling? He was your best friend.”

“Well...” she took a deep breath. “I miss him, I’m frustrated that we don’t even know what happened to him. He was fine one day and the next he’s gone.” Mitsuru hesitated before pulling Yukari into a hug. The junior pulled back and pressed a kiss to Mitsuru’s lips. “I don’t want to regret anything.” she whispered. Mitsuru smiled before pulling her back for another kiss.

-----

Akihiko woke up in the early morning in unexpected pain. It took everything in him to not scream out since he was in the woods nearby Inaba and the last thing he needed to do was attract unwanted attention. Once he settled, he checked to see if he had any injuries, but was confused to find none. He hadn’t felt any phantom pain in over 2 years, so what was that.

-----

Yukari wasn’t sure what to expect when she heard banging on the door to Mitsuru’s place, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. 

“Alright alright, I’m going.” She swung the door open to find a bewildered Ryoji with an unconscious Makoto on his back.

“I know you probably have questions, but I don’t really have many answers.” he panted, seemingly tired having to carry Makoto. They both looked thinner than they did back in high school.

“Who was at the door?” Mitsuru came around the corner and stopped dead seeing the boys.

“Can we come in, please?”

-----

Watching Hanamura and Seta work together was quite a sight to behold, and an excellent challenge for his training. The only bittersweet thing about it was seeing them be soulmates, it just filled Akihiko with daydreams of what could’ve been, but he buried it. He was glad they at least managed to come together before it was too late.

It was slightly annoying and unnerving how Seta figured out very quickly about his soulmate issue, and Hanamura was just as fast, but at least they didn’t say anything out loud knowing he wouldn’t appreciate it. Suddenly his knees started to ache as if he landed on them, causing them to buckle.

“You alright, Sanada-san?” Hanamura caught him before he could fall. He grimaced.

“I don’t really know what that was.” His phone started ringing and he answered before seeing who it was.

“Akihiko, you need to come to Iwatodai as soon as possible.”

“Did something happen?”

“You... you could say that.”

-----

“Hey, Akihiko-senpai.” Makoto greeted him as he walked through the door to Mitsuru’s apartment. It took him a moment to realize that it was Makoto, Makoto alive, greeting him like it was any other day.

“Uh, hi, Sanada-senpai.” Ryoji, holy crap Ryoji, stuttered making himself known. Akihiko just stared at his ex-leader, thoughts going a mile a minute and not knowing which direction to go to. Mitsuru placed a hand on his shoulder causing him to flinch.

“Akihiko?” she said softly. He took a step back, looked at Makoto one more time, before turning around and walking out.

-----

He didn’t stop running till he ended up in Inaba again. He turned off his phone after the third time it rang, Mitsuru is gonna kill him once she finds him. He didn’t know what to think. Makoto was alive again, so was Ryoji for some reason, and he being the coward he was, ran off. Give him a hundred shadows to fight, no problem, but have him face his feelings, and now he’s terrified.

“My soulmate died 2 years ago.” he blurted out when he joined Hanamura and Seta as they fished. “It was to save the world, and he pulled off a miracle at the cost of his life.” They both patted his back and gave him their condolences.

“Yosuke almost died on me once, it was the most terrifying moment of my life, I could only imagine how painful it must be for you.” Seta said.

“Mitsuru called me back because somehow he’s alive again. I saw him with my own eyes, and the first thing I did was run.” his head fell into his hands.

“I mean, you thought your soulmate was gone forever, seeing him again was probably overwhelming.” Hanamura reassured him. “If I was in your shoes, I would probably do the same, thinking that there was no way that it was my partner, that it had to be a trick of some kind.”

“So what do you plan to do?” Seta asked, but Akihiko shook his head not knowing how to answer.

-----

“Hanamura said that I’d find you here.” Mitsuru said as he came back to his tent after finding some food. He looked around. “No, Yuki isn’t with me, but he is here in Inaba. He doesn’t know that my meeting today is with you.” he nodded slowly.

“Here to lecture me, are you?”

“I had thought about it, but why waste my breath. I came to tell you what happened and what’s going on. I would’ve waited for you to come back on your own terms, but it’s been over a month, Akihiko. I realize that this is a strange situation, one that you may not be ready for, but it’s the reality now.” she crossed her arms. “Now sit down so I know you won’t run off on me.”

“I wasn’t going to run off...” he grumbled as he made himself comfortable. She raised an eyebrow clearly not believing him.

“Ryoji said that due to his connection with Yuki, he was able to break away from Nyx, and afterwards he decided to keep him company while he was the Great Seal. One day a woman in blue appeared, did something, he’s not entirely sure what, and they woke up alive. Yuki was awake at first, but suddenly cried out in pain before collapsing, so Ryoji had to carry him to my apartment. I suspect it was either his body coming into shock of being alive again, or it was all the cumulative pain you’ve endured for the past 2 years transferring onto him. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter considering how reckless you’ve been.”

“So that’s what that pain was...” he stated.

“What pain?”

“I woke up in a lot of pain the same day you called me, I didn’t know what it was since I hadn’t done anything to warrant it.” he explained.

“I see. Regardless, since they’re both technically 17 and haven’t finished high school, I’ve decided to enroll them. I can’t do it at Gekkoukan since there are records of them having attended years ago, so I thought it’d be better here. With Hanamura and the others looking after them, I think they’ll be fine.” She tossed him a small briefcase. “I got them a house with a big backyard and a loft in the back, and I made you their guardian.”

“What?! I never agreed to that!” she glared at him causing him to shut up.

“I don’t care, Akihiko. You can either stay in the house or stay in the loft for all I care, but you will be taking care of them. It’s the least you could do after you made him distraught when you walked out and didn’t come back.” he deflated. “Everything you need to know is in the case. And answer your damn phone!”

-----

“You want to work at Junes?” Hanamura seemed surprised by his request. He would’ve been shocked too, but he didn’t want to solely rely on Mitsuru’s money if he was going to take care of Makoto and Ryoji.

“I’m sticking around longer so I need some source of income, and I thought this would be my best bet.” he explained. Hanamura shrugged.

“Alright, when can you get started?”

-----

When Makoto awoke to the land of the living, he felt like he could either laugh or cry. Unfortunately neither of those things happened. He gasped, yelled out in pain (Ryoji claimed that he was screaming bloody murder), and passed out. At least he woke up in a nice bed.

Seeing Yukari and Mitsuru again was nice, even better now that they were together, although seeing Yukari pine was fun, at least they were happy. When he tried walking, he fell to his knees, still sore from the onslaught of pain he awoke to earlier.

“Junpei’s off coaching his little league team, I hear they’re doing well, so he’ll be by in a few days when he’s free. Aegis and Fuuka are in the lab nearby, but since they’re working on a project, they’ll be by tomorrow. Ken and Koromaru will be by this weekend since he's busy with summer homework.” Yukari explained when he asked about everyone else.

“And Akihiko?” she shrugged.

“I don’t know, probably off fighting bears.” he looked at her confused.

“Bears? Are you serious?” she nodded. "That idiot..." He muttered as he rubbed his chest unconsciously.

"Funny enough that's where his scar is." She pointed to where he was rubbing. "I'm sure you'll see it when he gets here since he doesn't exactly wear a shirt."

"...What does he wear exactly?"

"It's kinda like a cape." He stared at her hoping that she was joking, but groaned when he realized that she wasn't.

"Is it too late to switch soulmates?"

When Akihiko finally arrived, Makoto couldn't help but smile. He had the urge to tackle him into a hug, but he was too sore and that required too much effort. He expected Akihiko to be shocked to see him, he didn't expect Akihiko to run out without saying a word. Yukari tried reassuring him that Akihiko was probably overwhelmed since he was the one most devastated when he died, that maybe he needed some time to process.

After a few days, Mitsuru confirmed that Akihiko was no longer in Iwatodai and still refused to pick up the phone or respond to her.

Seeing everyone again did lift up his spirits somewhat, even if it was odd seeing everyone older. Amazing how much could change in 2 years, but he was glad. Having them all enjoy their lives was the reason he never regretted his sacrifice. He'd gladly do it all over again if he had to.

After 2 weeks, Mitsuru gave him and Ryoji some textbooks and told them to study cause she planned to enroll them in school again.

"I feel like it'd be awkward if I ended up bumping into Ms. Toriumi." He noted.

"Which is why you won't be attending Gekkoukan. I plan on enrolling you two at Yasogami high." She explained.

"Where's that?"

"A little town called Inaba." She answered.

"And where is that?"

-----

He had to admit that the house was nice, even if the town was smaller than he was expecting. He and Ryoji didn’t have much in possessions since anything they did have from before wasn’t much to begin with. Yasogami was different from Gekkoukan in many ways, but it wasn’t that bad. Mitsuru even introduced them to some people who would be in their class while she went off to talk to their “guardian”, whoever that was.

Starting school was easier than he thought it would be, Mitsuru made sure they were prepared. He befriended Yosuke quicker than the others due to their love of music, he helped him catch up with what he missed the past 2 years. After a week of nothing but takeout, Makoto was surprised to find the fridge full of proper food.

“Where’d the food come from?” Ryoji looked like he swallowed a lemon and looked to the loft in the backyard. Makoto saw that the light was on. “Is that our guardian?”

“Yeah. Um, it’s Sanada-senpai.” Makoto's eyes widened. “I wouldn’t bother trying to talk to him, the most he did was text me that he was bringing food. He didn’t say a word to me.” Ryoji explained.

“He... texted you?” he nodded. “How does he have your number?”

“Mitsuru-senpai. He has yours too, in case of anything.”

“That bastard.”

“We both know that emotions were never his forte.” Ryoji smirked. Makoto glared at him. “I’m not defending, just saying.”

-----

Two weeks after finding out that Akihiko was living in the loft, Makoto decided to try talking to the bastard. He knocked but no one answered. The light was on, so he had to be home.

“I know you’re in there, Akihiko!” he growled. Growing more impatient, he started banging on the door harder. “Open the damn door, you coward!”

“Makoto?” he froze, not expecting to hear Akihiko behind him.

“Hey, Makoto.” he turned to see Akihiko carrying some bags with Yosuke standing alongside him. Makoto was suddenly filled with jealousy seeing them so comfortable together. “What are you doing, buddy?”

“I wanted to talk to him.” Makoto glared at Akihiko. Yosuke laughed and swung an arm around Akihiko’s shoulders. Makoto clenched his jaw while contemplating punching his friend in the face for being too affectionate with his soulmate, and that wasn’t even starting on the list of things he wanted to do to punish Akihiko for allowing it. Since when was he this willing to allow affection?

“Oooh someone’s in trouble!” he poked at the older male causing him to become flustered.

“Shut up, Yosuke!” Akihiko lightly smacked him.

“I guess I’ll have to come around some other time for our training session. Later.” Yosuke left them. Makoto took a deep breath.

“How do you know Yosuke?”

“The same way Mitsuru does, we had a mission here and he, along with his friends, are Persona users.” Akihiko sighed. “Look, let’s just talk inside.” 

They walked into the loft. Makoto didn’t know what to expect, but he was surprised to find the place so bare. Once they were both settled in, Akihiko even got him some soda to drink, his favorite (did he know or was it a lucky guess?), the boxer just stared at the floor.

“Well?” Makoto growled.

“What do you want from me?”

“An explanation would be nice, for starters! I was excited to see you again for some reason, and I thought you would be too, but I guess not. Why would you be?! Your soulmate just came back from the dead, why wouldn’t you be ecstatic for that!” he yelled.

“Cause it’s that simple, isn’t it Makoto!” Akihiko yelled back. “During that fight, you left me! You left all of us, but you left me! That entire month where we forgot, I couldn’t help but think that there was something I had to tell you, but I couldn’t figure out what. Then when I finally remembered, I raced up to the roof to tell you that we were soulmates, to see if you wanted to start something between us, only to find you asleep. And then you never woke up again. I sat by your side begging, freaking begging Makoto, for you to wake up! For you to come back to us, to me! But it was pointless since you were gone before they could even do anything. Did you ever think of that, Makoto?” he was breathing heavily as he clenched his fists.

“Aki-”

“You know I tried to be careful of my injuries at first, only to remember that there was no point, you were gone! The only pain I was ever going to feel was my own. I wasn’t strong enough to protect you, I was useless in trying to save you! Imagine my surprise that after 2 years, after I finally drilled it in my head that I would most likely be alone cause you were the only person I ever loved, I see you alive, greeting me like nothing happened. Like the past 2 years of grief and mourning and loneliness didn’t happen. Oh wait, they didn’t happen to you, they happened to me!” the anger that Makoto had melted away as tears started streaming down Akihiko’s face.

“Akihiko...”

“What do you want from me, Makoto? Cause I don’t know if I’m strong enough to give it to you right now, if I’ll ever be.” he deflated. Makoto cupped Akihiko’s face.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered as he kissed his forehead before wiping away his tears with his thumbs. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.”

-----

Akihiko moved into the spare bedroom, but left his workout gear in the loft. Things weren’t magically better after their talk. There were days where Akihiko wouldn’t look at him. Sometimes he wouldn’t speak to him, using Ryoji to relay messages to him. Luckily those instances were very few, but it still hurt. He knew that this was his punishment for inflicting grievous wounds on Akihiko, even if it wasn’t his intention. They both were trying to move forward at the very least.

Makoto never saw himself as the jealous type, especially after having to witness the Akihiko Sanada Fan Club chase after his soulmate for almost a year. Granted back then, Akihiko barely spared them a glance if anything, but now he still wasn’t the most touchy person, but he was clearly affectionate. He barely patted his back/shoulder on good days, Chie would get multiple head pats when they trained, Kanji and Akihiko would bump shoulders constantly, and Yosuke... freaking Yosuke would hang off of Aki any chance he could. Sure Yosuke was affectionate with him too, but he guessed that he knew about his thing with personal space since he would limit how much he clung to him (which thank god, it took Junpei ages to remember how much Makoto liked his space, and he allowed Yukari since she was more considerate to ask if it was a bad day to get close).

Today was one of the few days where their friends didn’t come over to hang out with them. Akihiko was lounging on the couch, relaxing from a shift at Junes, as Makoto and Ryoji were at the coffee table doing homework. Well Makoto was doing homework, Ryoji was trying to find anything to do but work.

“You know, this town isn’t that bad, but boy is it boring.” Ryoji commented as he got up and plopped himself on one of the recliners.

“Tell me about it, if it wasn’t for those kids being enthusiastic about training, I’d probably lose my damn mind.” Akihiko sighed. “Can’t wait til you guys graduate so that way I don’t have to stick around anymore.” Makoto looked over at the boxer.

“So you’re just gonna up and leave once we graduate?” A weird mix of irritation and dread started to fill Makoto as he directed all his attention to Akihiko.

“Not right away, but basically yea.”

“Where would you go?” Ryoji asked.

“Probably Tokyo. There’s-”

“So you’re gonna leave everyone behind? All of our friends here?” Makoto snapped, becoming more and more angry.

“I’m gonna visit! Besides, Tatsumi will be in this third year and Satonaka will be training on becoming a police officer so I wanna come back to see their progress. Yosuke already told me that he was gonna go to Tokyo too-”

“Are you kidding me?! You’re going to Tokyo because Yosuke’s going! So you’re gonna chase him around and leave me behind!” Makoto yelled as he stood up.

“What?!” Akihiko also stood up. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, it should’ve been obvious since you let him hang off of you all the time and you guys talk all the time too. Don’t think I don’t know about your late night conversations!” Makoto was seething. Akihiko stared him down before smirking.

“Are you jealous, Makoto?” He bristled. “Holy crap you are!” Akihiko laughed. It was the first actual genuine laugh he ever heard from the older male, which would’ve been nicer if the reason behind the laughing wasn’t so infuriating.

“Are you being serious right now, Akihiko!”

“You know Yosuke has a boyfriend, right?” Makoto froze.

“What?”

“Yea, they’re soulmates, I met the guy, kinda reminds me of you actually. I’m surprised you don’t know this since one of Yosuke’s favorite things to talk about is his boyfriend. Honestly, ask him about him and he’ll talk for hours and still not be done.” Akihiko chuckled before placing a hand on Makoto’s head. “Reassuring to know that you like me, part of the reason I never said anything before was cause it was so hard to tell.” Makoto blushed but allowed the touch.

“If that wasn’t the reason, then why would you go to Tokyo?”

“Well I was going to explain, but you interrupted me.” Ryoji snorted and the two looked at him having forgotten that he was in the room. He was smirking at them as he ate popcorn.

“What the hell, Ryoji! And where did you get popcorn?” Makoto glared at him. He shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it.” he got more comfortable in his seat. “Now don’t let me stop you.”

“RYOJI!”

“Fine fine, I’ll go to my room.” he grumbled before leaving them alone.

“Anyway, I wanted to go to Tokyo because Mitsuru said that there’s been some strange things going on there, she suspects shadows might be involved, and since I technically work for her, I should go check it out. But I’m not gonna make any definite plans until I hear what you plan on doing. Your input will determine if I go with you or go somewhere near you cause the Tokyo thing is still a problem I have to look into. I’d like to stay with you, but if it’s a serious problem, I’m gonna have to move closer to the city.” Akihiko explained.

“Oh...” Makoto hadn’t thought much about the future. He hadn’t during his 2nd year either, back then thinking that he’d sort it out during his 3rd year, but then he died so he didn’t have to worry about it. “You think Mitsuru has any openings?” Aki smiled before grimacing.

“I’m sure she does, but...” he looked away before staring into his eyes and cupping his face “promise me that you won’t leave me behind again. Please. I don’t think I can handle losing you again.” Makoto looked into his eyes and he could see the pain, fear, and desperation lingering in them. He decided to be bold and pressed a kiss to Aki’s lips.

“I promise.” 

[mimssides]

Life on Crow Avenue: Part 10

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___

Warning: Description of a car accident! Self-deprecating tendencies form Remus and Roman! Mention of abusive and homophobic parents! 

A particular graphic description of Roman’s injuries is marked in the text like this, so you might skip it if you need to.

___

A few minutes of silence followed after they all had sat down around the table. Remus was fumbling with his fingers and Patton was playing with the thought of interfering with that when Logan suddenly asked: “Do we need to keep it down so Roman will not be bothered by our conversation?”

Remus looked up and pulled his eyebrows up.

“Nah. He’s one of those people who can lie down and are just knocked out. He’s probably asleep for some minutes by now,” Remus explained and leaned back in his chair.

A short moment passed, little noises from the five men sitting and adjusting themselves in their seats.

“Is there a moment where it started? Like, for you to have these thoughts of, uhm-” Virgil asked out of the blue just to for Janus to swat him in the arm and Remus cut him off with a little laugh.

“These thoughts of me killing myself? When that started?” Remus completed the question for Virgil and continued before any of the three others could tell him he did not have to talk about it. “I’m impressed that you go for the direct route. Usually when I only mention that the stupid jokes are more than that people just straight up walk away. You’re impressively brave, kid…”

Remus chuckled a bit and ran his fingers through his hair, nervously rubbing his feet together under the table. He felt itchy and weird. A little as if he stood next to himself, as if he wasn’t quite sure who he was.

A breath in. A breath out. Here he was.

He looked up to Virgil and then to his side, to Patton and Logan. Lastly to Janus. Remus smiled and titled his head. Shrugged.

“I suppose, I can tell you how it started but it’s not going to be fun,” Remus then said and watched the reactions of the others.

Janus was reserved but did not seem like he would interject. Virgil looked fearful and so did Patton. And Logan-

“What does ‘it’s not going to be fun’ mean? Could you be less vague?”

Logan was cautious but interested. The spirit behind these glasses, so sharp, so unyielding. So much more interested in him than Remus had ever dared to hope.

“Oh well,” Remus answered pushing his thoughts aside, “the usual fun stuff: homophobic parents, a car crash in which I lost a part of my hearing, a bit of homelessness and that junk. You know. Just the regular.”

They all held their breath. Except for Remus, who grinned and took a sip from the glass of water in front of him. It was easier to smile through it. It stopped him from crying.

“Still wanna listen?”

The answer was no. Nobody ever wanted to listen. Hell, Roman did not want to listen or talk about it. And Remus understood why. It was hard and heavy and it hurt him. He could not just unload all of it on him. He was carrying enough as it was. And even less so he could do this to those men around the table.

“Yes, very much so.”

Remus jerked his head up and stared at Logan. Logan looked at him so intently, so sincerely and added seeing the confusion in Remus’s face: “I understand you want to talk about it. I will offer you my ear and I am prepared for what you will tell us. It is fine, Remus. Please share with us what you need to share.”

Remus blinked disoriented and then felt how his hand was clasped in Patton’s and he looked to Patton. He gave him an encouraging nod paired with a wavery smile and Remus did not know what this was. What was happening.

He frowned and at once had a hand put on his shoulder. It was Patton’s, he had moved it up form his hand, and through all the numbness he had felt thorough today, an itsy bitsy, tiny spark of something light up inside of him. Remus thought that it had no right to be there.

“Lo’s right. If you need to you can tell us. We offered our help and if we couldn’t give it, we wouldn’t have stayed here. I promise you, Remus,” Patton said so gently and Remus looked over to Janus.

He would disagree, Remus was sure. But when he looked at him, he just gave a nod with is lips pressed together in a firm line and Remus took a moment to realize the meaning of that. That he possibly could tell his story.

As if he was in a trance Remus’s eyes landed back on Virgil and the young man nodded in agreement as the others did. So, it was settled. Remus could despite everything tell his story.

For the first time in a long while Remus had to collect himself. Had to think about how he should start this. He circled his shoulders and Patton’s hand was gone and did no longer distract him.

“Uhm, so,” Remus babbled and scratched the back of his head, “I suppose I begin with our father finding out about – well me being pan and Ro being gay, even though I still don’t know how he figured Roman out, because he was pretty good at pretending, he was not in fact gay as a rainbow. Anyway, we were seventeen and he found out. It was a Thursday and we came back from school and he was somehow home and started shouting about what a disgrace we were, how disgusting it was and I naturally shouted back at him and it became a huge fight. He hit me a few times-”

“He hit you?!” Janus exclaimed horrified.

Remus shot him a look and shrugged: “Yeah, he did. Not every day and not always but he did quite often. He also drank at the weekends and it wasn’t fun. But that’s another thing. Anyway, he hit me a bit and then Ro got between us and Dad hit him a few times and for some reason, he then stormed off. Which left me relieved for a short second before I panicked and thought about how it would turn out when he’d come back. I had already the great imagery of him shooting me with a rifle he stole from neighbours, when Roman grabbed me by the arm and told me to pack our clothes. Before I got to ask why, he said he’d take our documents and we’ll go. We’d leave and never come back.”

Remus took a short breather and remembered the look in Roman’s eyes when he told him that. The look of a boy who had suffered and tried too long and wanted to flee.

“He had a car and a license. And I had thought about running away for years at that point but I was certain he wouldn’t want to leave and – So, I did not talk back, got our clothes and raided part of the kitchen and we hurried into his car and then he drove. Away. We did not know where, just that we’d leave the state and then see how further. I know it was stupid and unplanned but we were at the end of our wits and it felt good to get away. It felt good to feel free.”

Remus eyed Patton’s hand close to his own. He wanted to hold it. Needed to hold it almost felt like. And promptly Remus reached for Patton’s hand and took it. He took a wavery breath and quickly met eyes with Patton before he continued.

“Then – Well, it was not Roman’s fault. He was not on his phone and he was not driving too fast. He never did. Something was wrong with the car, which was weird because he just had it checked by the mechanic like a few weeks before but. In a curve, something malfunctioned, Roman never could explain me what it was, but we went over the edge and the whole car rolled over several times. Something made a terribly loud sound close to my ears and I lost my orientation for a good bit. Blacked out or something. When I was back again the car stood still and was upright and I somehow manged to yank open the door and I stumble outside. My head hurt like a bitch and I realized that there was still the strange noise and I cursed and I couldn’t hear myself properly.”

Sighing. With his right Remus touched his hearing aid and looked to the cane next to Janus. Something he had to rely on no matter how much he did not want to rely on it.

“I later was told that hearing loss could develop from inner ear concussions after strong whiplashes and such. I was lucky enough to have just that. And I felt sick and was freaked out as fuck, because Roman had no longer been sitting next to me. He – he must have been yanked out of the car through the broken windshield and I started looking around for him.

“I found him a little upwards the hill. He was full of cuts, probably from the glass shreds, a huge one from the right of his forehead over the top of it and there was blood sticking to him everywhere. It looked grotesque, all the blood smeared in the grass, sticking and soaking out of such a little body. When I got closer, I saw bruises and then looked if something was sticking out of him or turned in the wrong direction. Nothing was sticking out and … to my relief I found that he was still faintly breathing.”

Remus stopped again. He looked up. He gulped and watched Janus on the other side of the table. The unbelieving and mortified look in his eyes. Remus chuckled without any humour in it.

“Yeah, I looked like that too. Also, it doesn’t help that we really looked so much alike, so seeing myself kinda bleeding out’s an awfully not fun experience. Anyway, I then took my phone, which somehow had survived all of it safely in my pocket and called 911 because it was the only number I remembered. I told them to stay on the phone, that I could not hear them, because my ears rang like shit, that I was in car crash, that my brother was bleeding out and where we roughly went off the road. That they were not to contact our parents because they would possibly kill me or not come at all which both was shitty and I talked to the phone for a few minutes before I started walking back to the car and got a jacket out, I then threw over Roman. So, he wouldn’t get any colder and stuff. Because I didn’t dare to move him and then I climbed up to the road and waited for the ambulance to come.”

Remus knew he should not be smiling. But he was and the pictures from Roman laying there almost lifeless in front of him shot in front of his eyes again. It was not fun. No laughing matter. But the smile was there nevertheless. And he could not force it away.

A hand was put on the small on Remus’s back and he yanked his head towards Patton. He smiled at him so very gently and Remus felt his grin falter. Felt his expression turn sad and Patton’s arm pull him towards the other. Remus let him do so and gave into the side hug. It was weird to feel alive. It was weird to feel held and warm.

“I would have tried to end it right there and then if he hadn’t been breathing. I would have,” Remus mumbled and to his surprise he got an agreeing response.

“I get that and nobody could fault you for that, Remus. Nobody possibly could fault you for it,” Patton said quite clearly and Remus let those words sink in for a moment.

“That must be such a fuck up thing for the two of you. No wonder Roman did not want to drive back home,” Virgil said after a while and Remus sat up.

He looked at the young man in front of him and sadly shook his head. It was hard to admit but Remus was alone with his memory. Helplessly alone even.

“He doesn’t remember any of it,” Remus started saying and gulped as he felt Patton’s hand sliding away from his side back into his hand and intertwining their fingers helplessly together. “He was in a coma for three days after it. I spent the time learning this fucking chart by heart and was as much in his room as I could, while they had me checked up and asked for our information. They didn’t know what was wrong exactly with him, save for the few bruises, burns, cuts and four cracked rips. They didn’t find anything when they had a closer look of his head, but they weren’t sure when he’d wake up. Eventually, he did on day three and immediately requested to see me and first thing he wanted to do was to stand up and know what was wrong with me and stuff. The day after, to everybody’s surprise and displeasure he did stand up and walked around to ask people where we’d find an ear specialist and someone who could teach us ASL.”

Remus paused and massaged the bride of his nose before he let out an airy laugh.

“Some nurses and I eventually got him back to bed and we could convince him to stay there for a week or so. Then things were temporarily settled and we were brought to foster parents. I had some bruises from my Dad on me which were enough to convince them to not send us home again and that’s how we ended up with an okay couple and their daughter and son for a year or so. It wasn’t really good. I was struggling with not understanding what was going on around me and we had nothing left. Nowhere to turn to. Roman meanwhile learnt ASL and taught me as much as he could and well, he then – basically did everything which led us to be here.”

Remus made a wide, cantilevered gesture and pointed to the room around them. He looked to this room, which was so much bigger than anything he ever thought he could own. And it was just their living room. Just the place they were meant to watch TV together and eat. Just this room alone was so much more than Remus ever dreamed of possessing.

“What do you mean by he did everything? What exactly did he do?”

Remus turned back to Janus. Remus blinked and chuckled a little.

“He got us an apprenticeship as florists when we turned eighteen and learnt about flowers and plants despite never really being passionate about it. He signed me up for all the doctor’s appointment I needed to go to get my ears checked out properly and helped me get a credit for the hearing aids. He got a stupid van where we lived in for a few months and sold flowers from before we could afford the first place we started from.”

Janus looked like he wanted to cut Remus off but Remus continued talking as if he hadn’t seen Janus wanting to cut him off.

“And he did so, while throwing his whole fucking life away. He didn’t try to pursue his dream of Broadway, he didn’t have friends anymore but me and he still acts as if it was nothing. As if I had not fucking ruined his life, as if I hadn’t fucking stolen his life in exchange for continuing to live mine. And I know it’s not this easy and shit, but for fuck’s sake; He made this, he accomplished this on his own! He can live on his own. He doesn’t need me for this nonsense.”

A moment of silence followed and Remus shivered. It was getting later and his bare feet were getting kinda cold. It didn’t matter. He deserved it.

“This ‘nonsense’ meaning life I assume?”

Remus shot a glare to Janus and shrugged pointlessly looking away.

“I doubt that he would agree with you calling your lives ‘nonsense’-” “He wouldn’t.” “-but nevertheless, I have a suspicion that you are not giving yourself enough credit for what you did here.”

Remus laughed. Why would someone ever say this about him? Why would Janus-What-is-your-problem-with-me say this of all people?

Yet before Remus could say that Virgil took his chance and said: “Uncle J’s right for once. Like, this here is not something any person I know could manage to make on their own. You said you did nothing but, like, you learnt about all of these flowers too. You work every fucking day, despite wanting to end it? And how long has it been since the accident now?”

“Nine years,” Remus said his throat feeling incredibly dry.

“Nine fucking years! You didn’t kill yourself for nine fucking years, Remus. You, you are here! You own a house; you have your own store and you did this with your brother! He was so miserable when he learnt what you did and you must know that he’s not doing well either. You two kept each other alive for so long, which isn’t – isn’t really good or okay in – in a way, but it’s outstanding and definitely not nothing! You say he can do this on his own, but you know he can’t. Of all the people who know him you must know that better than anyone else. I know, I’ll make sure of it even, that Roman won’t be left alone, but he’s – he’s not ready to let you go. Not any time soon.”

Remus did not want to hear that. He knew it was right. He really did. He had known for so long that Roman wasn’t ready. That he possibly would never be ready.

“But I am so tired. I just. I don’t want anymore. I can’t anymore. I just don’t want to have to do this anymore. To continue suffering. I want it to stop…”

Remus didn’t know when the last time had been when he cried. He hadn’t known that he still was alive enough to even cry. To laugh, certainly. To joke, always. To flirt, every day.

But to cry?

No, he had believed that those times had long been over.

And yet here he was. Crying in his own living room, surrounded by people, who in all honesty wanted him to stay alive despite not knowing him for much longer than a month.

The weirdly thin arms of the beanpole were draped across Remus’s shoulder and he realized for a tiny fraction of a second that he smelled like cat food and that that somehow smelled very delicious and then took the embrace needily.

Remus wasn’t sobbing and whimpering like Roman, just a few tears and a bit of sniffling but not much more. He got lost in the contact, in the delight of being touched, of being held and when a second pair of arms was put around him, he could have melted on the spot. Even more so when he sensed Patton’s scruffy chin shortly brush over his shoulder as the man pulled him towards himself. Patton was holding him. Patton was holding him and it was so unspeakably nice to be held by him.

It shouldn’t be. Remus wanted (he didn’t) to pull away. But severing their contact, losing Patton’s touch, felt like flames burning his skin. He had to let go but he didn’t want to.

“It’s okay, Remus. It’s okay. I’ll hold you as long as you want me to.”

And Remus did that. For the first time in a long while he let himself have what he wanted. He let himself be held and be warm for a few moments.

___

@varthandi

@sickeningly-deceitful

@sammy-is-obsessed / @exhaustedfander

@unoriginalgayboyalex

@alexisrealgay

@softie-sushi

@wolfs-feder

@just-a-neoclassical-painting

For this fic:

@frawkeye

@arodynamic-enby

@espepspes

@ladysuperheros

@bullet-tothefeels

@fukindork

@shadeofadye

@magic-but-its-green

@liv-is-a-fander

@croftersjam15

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Okay so tumblr did something super weird with the formatting and I couldn’t fix it; for some reason it had the page cut under the ask itself (as if the ask itself had the page cut in it) so I literally couldn’t edit it out and re-format it right. So I just took a screencap of the ask and I’ll respond via a standard textpost.

Gonna give a little warning because I’m gonna be talking about child abuse a bit.

Glad to hear it, anon. :) I try to keep an open mind with these discussions.

Tbh, I kinda get uncomfortable with some of the stuff I've seen in her tag regarding Zuko especially. I've seen a handful of people kind of dismissing him as being whiny or sensitive, and I just don't really vibe with that. I don't have anything against any of the people I've seen posting it, but I just don't vibe with.

I'm also gonna take the opportunity to try to break some of the misconceptions about the Azula fandom by saying that I don't feel afraid or intimidated to kinda go against a good portion of the fandom in a sense. And that's because, fellow Azula fans have never really outcast me or tried to fight me for saying that I think that Azula's a bit of an abuser. The Azula fandom imo, isn't full of bullies and hateful people; everyone I have talked to has been very open to a nice discussion. I think that it just depends how you approach them with your arguments.

All of that said, Imma get back on topic here; It’s a little tough to talk about Azula's flaws sometimes because I feel like (though, thankfully this hasn’t happened on tumblr to me yet) that some people take pointing out flaws in your faves as bashing them or posting hate.

But honestly this is really cool to hear because back when I first opened up this blog I used to do that thing where I’d justify everything that my faves did, which was a bit of a problem because my faves are all antagonists! xD So there has been a lot of progress made.

I think that there are three main reasons that people have a hard time admitting that she’s an abuser too.

I think that the biggest one is that a lot of Azula fans lately have been massively on the defensive. There has been quite a bit of hate in her tag, there have been things said by the writers (taken the wrong way or not), there have been a lot of generalizations, and so on. And all of it kind of puts fans on the defensive. I see so many posts about how Azula is irredeemable and just the worst, most evil character in the show and so people kind of swing hardcore the other way (Azula did nothing wrong) to make up for all of the demonizing she gets. One extreme usually leads to another. Seeing Azula get so much shit, like being called a killer and a sadist, provokes the Azula is a cinnamon roll reaction. Basically when a fandom gets put on blast for being 'the crazy' or 'mean' side of the fandom, I feel like it creates a cycle where that part of the fandom starts to actually act meaner because they feel backed into a corner. The more they are called 'delusional' for seeing good in Azula the more radically they will start to defend that belief until the shades of grey start disappearing, if that makes sense.

But this is just a theory of course.

The second reason I think that people tend to dismiss the things she does do wrong is that there's this association with criticism and hate. And this goes beyond the Avatar fandom. In general I feel like people find it hard to say bad things about their favorite characters because they feel like they're bashing their character and/or they don't want people to think that they are being negative. Plus it's just kinda hard to say bad things about something you like/love. Speaking as someone who used to do this; I always felt really weird about or like I was being negative when admitting that things I like have flaws. I'm not exactly sure why I used to feel like this because it wasn't an, 'I seem myself in this character, so insulting them is like insulting me' thing because I usually have almost nothing in common with my faves. Idk, it's just always been way easier for me to find things I like in a character I hate than it is for me to find things I don't like in a character that I do. On a personal level, it might just be because I'd rather focus on liking things that I like than hating things that I hate?

I guess that I think that it's just easy to forget that 'I don't like xyz aspect of Azula' is not the same as 'I don't like Azula at all'. I think that it's possible to love a character but not love everything about them, just like real people; you can love your mom to death but there will always be those things about her that drive you nuts.

And really, imo, I think that fans who are able to see flaws with their faves are the ones who understand them the best. I'm definitely not saying that the people who don't see/acknowledge their fave's flaws don't understand their fave. But I think that they are missing out on very crucial aspects of their favorite character. If you like a character you should like them for what they are in canon, not what you want them to be or what they could be.

I see a lot of potential for growth in Azula. I see potential for a redemption arc and I do love what her character can be. But I also love her character as is. Currently in canon, she's manipulative and goal driven to the point where she has a disregard for people. Currently she's an antagonist and I love her for that. Because antagonist, unredeemed Azula is the character I liked in the beginning. I don't condone her being manipulative and I don't like that as a personality trait. But I do love it as far as, she is a fantastically written antagonist. And those cold, manipulative, abusive traits add to her complexity when juxtaposed against her own abuse, insecurities, and need to be loved.

And that's kind of what I mean when I say that, if you like Azula, you should like her despite the flaws.  If that makes sense. I feel like people who say that she isn't an abuser (at least to some degree) kind of have a misunderstanding of her character. I think that one of the points of her character is to show that some abused kids don't come out okay. It's a tragic reality.

But with Azula I think that there's still room for her to change and start to break that cycle. I feel like she'd have a much harder time doing it than Zuko, because she has been subjected to his mental abuse in close range for much longer than he has. And I think that it would be something she'd struggle with her whole life, but I see good in her.

That said, I think that the third reason people have trouble seeing her as an abuse is because it is just really hard to see abuse victims become the abuser. I've mentioned before, but I come from a family where the chain ended with one of my parents. Said parent has told me many times how hard it was to fight that kind of upbringing. That's the real tragedy of abuse, it just goes on and on until you're mentally strong enough to fight yourself and break that chain. And the sad thing is, that some people just can't seem to do that. And I think that when discussing Azula, this comes into play a bit; it's just hard to look at even a fictional abuse victim and knowledge that they've become the abuser because it is all that they have known.

It's just a really hard topic and  that's why it's so easy for discourse like this to get heated; a lot of people have an Azula in their lives or relate to her in some way.

Thanks for the ask, sorry it took so long to reply! I wanted to make it thoughtful and word everything the best that I can.

As always, everyone is welcomed to chime in and give their own opinions.

EDIT: There are a few things that I don’t think I was clear enough on with the initial post lol. First and foremost, I’m definitely not saying that these three reasons are the only reasons people don’t talk about Azula’s flaws. @wingsfreedom​ made a good point about differing ways of interpreting scenes. That’s another biggy. 

The other thing I want to clarify is that I don’t think that Azula is a full on abuser. I think that she displays tendencies and does some abusive things. But I also don’t put her on the same level as Ozai. I feel like she’s a bit more merciful than him. Like Ozai is pretty much too far gone; he’s an abuser and his mind is set there. Azula, I think still has the capacity to break the chain. She’s not a lost cause. I also feel like she can be reasoned with more than Ozai. Ozai is all about power; Azula is motivated more by desperation (be it for her father’s love, to keep the last bit of control she has, and to keep her friends). It still leads to that harmful behavior, but I don’t think that she’s a lost cause like Ozai. Like, she has some abusive tendencies now, but I can also see her being able to break the chain under the right conditions.  If that makes sense. 

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 12

Fig And Ayda Sitting in a Spiky Infernal Nightmare Tree

Welcome back to Fantasy High, where Brennan and Emily are giving the gays everything they want but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. For now, the Bad Kids have just arrived in Arborly which is this ancient, twisty, mysterious forest town with buildings kind of built into the trees in such a way that makes it hard to tell it’s a town at first glance. Anyway, they get to Hollyhill--the family home of Fig’s gnome business-friend--Grover Tillythatch--which is basically this very dope hollowed out tree. At the edge of the forest (maybe a 30 min walk away), there is a place where the trees grow and twist together into an 80 foot high wall, barbed with razor sharp briars and super ominous looking. Très Sleeping Beauty.  

They unlock the gate but then realize they have to do something with the Hangvan. Gorgug thinks there’s a way to, with his Artificer skills, give the Van the availability to shrink, but that’ll be a whole project for later. What we have to deal with now though is the fact that Gilear is caught up in the wheel well of the Van, apple stuck in his mouth like a roast pig. Through a series of insane and very Gilear events (not a teleportation mishap like I initially thought), he ended up stuck there and has been since they woke up. He fully missed Hilariel and this is the first anyone noticed he was missing.The kids help Gilear out and give him a little makeover, courtesy of Adaine’s jacket--very needed because he 100% pissed his pants while jammed up (and way too soon after getting stuck).

Kristen knows that the temple she read about is extremely close to where they are. Adaine does a quick Locate Creature and can tell the elf from her Scry isn’t within the 1000 foot range. Plus, the forest they’re in just looks different.  

Anyway, once they’re in Ragh starts grabbing food. Sandra-Lynn gives Gilear a massage because that dude needs some TLC. Tracker is sticking with Kristen and in a weird headspace over the Galakaya info. And, turns out Ayda didn’t just stay in Leviathan. She teleported with them to see them off so she’s around too. The gang does a little investigation of the house where Riz finds out Grover is abusing his company expense account and Adaine pings a crazy amount of infernal energy from the spooky briar wall. Adaine also senses a strong but old (300 year-ish) aura of druidic magic in Arborly--from the reclamation efforts that took Arborly back from being behind the wall that separates Sylvere from the outside. It’s really the only progress that’s been made and it seems like it took a lot out of whoever did it. One more thing: There is a real gnomish energy around town (similar to the vibe at Gorgug’s place), even though Arborly is supposed to be very wood elf heavy.

Throughout all I’ve been describing, there have been rumblings of maybe throwing a party and Fig invites Ayda who enthusiastically accepts. The adults go to bed in the Van for safety (Sandra-Lynn puts the Hangman in charge while they’re gone) and the teens do what teens do when they have no adult supervision: They wild out. But not in a Golden Gardens “Let’s get tattoos and do drugs” kinda way. In a real, teenager kind of way. In an “I’m making crab nachos because my parents never let me,” kind of way. But that “they” doesn’t include Fig because she is doing the other thing teens do when they have no adult supervision: Sneaking out. Specifically to look at the briar wall. She can hear these faint whispers coming from the wall and Emily manages to get jump scared in a D&D game by Ayda who is suddenly standing next to Fig, having followed her because the party got overwhelming. 

They have a talk which I can and will describe but that needs to be seen in full to really appreciate the intimacy and tenderness but also fumbling awkwardness that’s happening. So while the rest of the Bad Kids are drinking and doing crab-stands and pretending to be shrimp (go with it) Fig tells Ayda that she sometimes does stuff like pretend to be other people and indulge in loud nonsense to cover up negative thoughts, like the ones that come from your dad being shoved in a gem and then getting kidnapped. Ayda can’t understand the disguising as a coping mechanism: “If I were you I wouldn’t want to be anyone else because you are very exceptional.” She then offers to give Fig a better look at the wall and, when Fig accepts, she turns them both invisible and flies them to it. 

Fig, upon watching Ayda do that very dope thing says that there’s no reason for Ayda to think she’s special when she can do cool stuff like that. Ayda, as we already know, thinks Fig is super dope too, both in abilities and personality. Ayda analyzes the briar wall and finds out mostly stuff we already knew--it keeps people from getting in or out, including through magical means like Dimension Door and it’s keyed to powerful devils. When she reaches for the thorns, they grow out to stab her and she flinches back before they can. When Fig does the same, the thorns don’t grow out. And, when she does a less intense Burning Hands, a charred handprint is left behind and the heat and energy travels somewhere else. The aura the wall is giving out doesn’t seem to bother her as much as it probably would someone else. Ayda finds it very cool, as she’s found everything Fig has done. They dip back into heart to heart mode and Ayda reveals something that we already knew from Brennan on the Discord: Ayda is technically about 150 years old due to her Phoenix cycling and she’s been working on building the Compass Points Library across her lifetimes, aided by notes left to herself by her previous incarnations. Fig asks why she would do that instead of just reinventing herself and Ayda says she doesn’t have a lot of self confidence and doesn’t want to make mistakes. Fig throws up in anticipation of saying something sincere, says she thinks Ayda is perfect the way she is, and then--as she is wont to do--skateboards away (successfully and 80 feet down the briar wall with a 22 acrobatics check).

Ayda flies down, compliments her on the sick trick then asks her to sign a binding contract that says she has info that she will give Fig but Fig can’t make any assumptions based on it or judge her. (The cast at this point is losing their minds and has been for the past couple of minutes.) Fig signs it and then Ayda gives her the information which is as follows: “At any waking moment outside of combat that you and I have been together, if you had tried to kiss me on the mouth, it would have been received favorably.” Fig drafts a contract (as a lawyer I’m using that term extremely loosely) that says that if Ayda makes fun of her, Fig will give her a wet willy. Ayda says that it’s more of a threat than a contract and Fig abruptly kisses her and then skateboards away and hides. Ayda doesn’t really have a good frame of reference for how this is supposed to go and Fig is throwing out all sorts of mixed signals but Fig comes out from hiding and apologizes and says that she’s having trouble being vulnerable since she hasn’t really done this as herself before. Ayda asks if they can go again because she thinks she can do better. Ally and Lou howl and cheer and bless the Union. Murph is clapping. Siobhan and Zac are full gone. Fig says that she only wanted to have a party so Ayda would stay longer. Ayda says she only stayed to hang out with Fig. Ayda says this is the best moment of her current life. Fig says she’s going for best, period--past incarnations included. They make out some more until Ayda has to go. Ayda says she needs to go so she can research the Planeshift spell for Fig (for free!). She doesn’t even care about shrinking down the library. Before she leaves, Ayda pulls out one of her feathers and says that if Fig holds it up and says her name, she’ll hear it and be able to come and help. Fig does the same with one of her ear-cuffs but it’s more of a gesture than an actual magical effect (though the cuff is bloody and mark my words, this is exactly the kind of goof that becomes plot relevant later). Fig comes back to the insanity the house has dissolved to and goes to use the hot tub.     

No comment. 

They all eventually go outside to sleep on a mattress, by the Van to get the protection of the Hallow spell. It’s a little glossed over but we learn when Fabian gives Riz Bardic Inspiration to remember to sleep outside that he’s taken a level of bard! In the morning (by which I mean afternoon), they all wake up to see Sandra-Lynn and Gilear speaking to, like, 40 wood-elf rangers. They’re mainly talking to an intense lady who seems to have a pretty high rank and this older looking fox. Fig steps up to speak for the group since they’re there on her invite and the elven woman is instantly wary of her horns, plus the Hangman is right there. She clearly doesn’t trust the infernal. With Guidance from Kristen, she gets a 27 Persuasion which tells her this lady (whose name we learn is Mira) will never like her BUT that’s OK because she’s not in charge. The fox actually outranks her. 

Fig shakes hands with the fox whose name is Nuathra and who is very charmed. The Bad Kids follow suit with the politeness and Nuathra is won over. He fends off Mira’s suspicions and is so chill that Fig decides (after consulting with Adaine) to just tell him they’re going into the nightmare forest. That gets bows pulled on them and Adaine steps in and identifies herself as the elven Oracle and says that they have to do it for prophecy reasons. The elves start whispering and Nuathra, who believes she is who she says she is, asks if she knows about any other high elves who look like her slinking around. Adaine says that yeah, she does, but she’s not working with them. Kristen tries to cut in and it makes Mira super aggro--seems like she doesn’t like beings that are devil adjacent or humans either. She also makes a dismissive comment aimed at high elves in response to Adaine’s statement about morality being complex.

Nuathra tells her to cool her jets and says that things are kinda tense because for the past few months, a high elven woman (Adaine’s mom) showed up, took a room at the Owl and Harp (a gnomish tavern), and hired a local wood elf drunkard named Killian. She kept to herself mostly but did do some business at the local gnomish Tinkerer’s Hall (possibly for spell components). Two nights ago, another high (extremely gassy) elven woman showed up and then they vanished (figuratively) with Killian.

When Tinkerer’s Hall is mentioned, Gorgug cuts in to get more info on that. Nuathra says that there is a gnomish population in Arborly because the Druid who gave their life to reclaim Arborly (Crafty Rootdrinker) was a gnome so now gnomes kind of have protected status. Nuathra starts tearing up a little and we later find out (via Gorgug’s intuition) that Nuathra was their Awakened animal companion (Awakened means you give a plant or animal average human intelligence and the ability to speak a language). Nuathra asks why they want to go into the forest and Gorgug says it’s because the Nightmare King might be coming back. After being horrified to learn that the NK’s crown wasn’t in magical Fort Knox and instead was just in some dude’s desk, Nuathra says that all the town’s resources are at their disposal. He points out the three obvious places to check out: (1) the tavern, (2) the tinkerer’s hall, and (3) a shrine which is a possible entrance to the forest of the NK (the Shrine of Thorns which is just on the edge of the forest--mostly still in the forest--and dedicated to a mysterious goddess).

Adaine asks about the dude in her vision and realizes quickly it’s not Killian. Then, following a comment Fig makes about honesty being the right move and spurred by their out of character knowledge, start poking at Fig for an answer to what’s different about her today. Riz rolls a 28 Investigate and Fig burns 2 luck points and a guidance to beat it with like a 31. Wild. Then they split up like this:

Gorgug, Ragh, and Fabian (with the Hangman) go to the tinkerer’s hall.

Adaine and Riz go to the tavern.

Kristen, Tracker and Fig go to the shrine (ferried by Sandra-Lynn who wants to then scout around on Baxter).       

Gilear makes lunch.              

But before they leave, Adaine Scrys on her mom and sees her, Aelwen, and Killian with a gem embedded in his open and bloody chest (clearly a puppet after the ritual that almost claimed RIz) traveling through a forest so twisted it looks like it’s underground. Adaine clocks some curse scarring on her mom and on a 15 arcana check wonders if the curse her mom got broken by Garthy was actually the Crown’s curse or maybe something the Falinel put on it for security (which could mean that the Curse on the crown is actually the goddess’s sanctum mentioned last ep). Almost immediately, Aelwen dispels the Scry and it ends. Adaine on a 25 Insight realizes that Aelwen didn’t actually sense the Scry. It was like someone told her it was happening and then she reacted to that. Adaine thinks Kalina might be around.         

On a nat 20 Perception check, Kristen sees Kalina’s eyes in the shadows. Riz--and the rest of the group--can’t see her, but she steps out of the shadows. Kalina starts slinging death threats--at the group and Tracker specifically--and Kristen does her classic Kristen thing of staring down a life or death situation with an insane casualness. Kalina says the only reason the gang is still alive is because they haven’t gotten directly in the way of her and what she wants yet. What does she want? Kristen asks. For them to stay out of the f-ing forest. Kalina vanishes. Kristen immediately loses all bravado and makes her friends dog pile her for comfort which they happily do.               

Kristen gives an arguably Inspiring Speech to give everyone 16 temp HP. Riz on a 28 Investigation roll notices that the grass where Kalina was standing isn’t bent. (The background music goes *BWANG* like Brennan planned it). Riz thinks Kalina wasn’t physically there. In fact, she might not have ever been physically there. He remembers that, in the photo, Pok’s sleeve isn’t bent where Kalina is touching him and people who can’t see Kalina don’t see the wrinkled sleeve they way they would if she was just invisible. And she’s not holding a glass in the photo. She’s holding up her hand and pretending she’s holding one. She might not exist physically at all. He thinks that the thing Aelwen and Arianwyn are doing is to give her corporeal form. They also put together than even if Kalina is somehow in their heads, she can’t really by *in* their heads because she keeps asking questions she would know the answers to already if she could read their minds. Kristen wants to chain up Tracker in the Van to keep her safe from Kalina but Tracker puts the kibosh on that with a quickness (revealing things we kinda already knew about their sex life in the process).

Anyway, let’s split up!

Tinkerer’s Hall

The Owlbear group and the Hangman kinda freak out the gnomes who think they’re being mugged or something but Gorgug wins them over with his gnomish last name and cool Solesian gadgets. They find out Killian needed wax to make candles and some basic spell components.

Tavern

The two Bad Kids possibly least equipped to go to the bar go there and try to get access to Adaine’s mom’s room. They pay Arianwyn’s tab (she left abruptly without paying) and bribe the bartender with an amount of money that will for sure get them put on a watchlist, sweating bullets the entire time, but eventually make it up there to the top suite.

The room is blood spattered, full of candle wax and arcane symbols, and there’s an image Adaine knows her mom drew of a robed, skeletal figure, wearing a crown, etched into the wall. Yikes. 

Shrine

Sandra-Lynn drops off the girls. Tracker casts a light spell and then has to step out. It’s like a vampire at the doorway of a church thing. Kristen sees a religious symbol on the wall and an ancient depiction of a woman in a dark robe and cape, holding a book and a broomstick, next to a small dwelling, black cat on her shoulder. 

Fig sees a charred handprint on the briars in the shrine and recognizes it as her own. She casts Burning Hands on her handprint that’s here for some reason and the fire catches and spreads. Brennan has a lot of fun making fire sound effects. A fiery doorway opens and a woman in armor, with horns and skeletal wings (plus flayed skin under the armor from what they can see--except for her face which is intact and beautiful) walks out and asks for Fig. When Fig identifies herself, the woman says she’s Vraz the Mean from the Nine Hells and Fig has been served. As in legally. As in a subpoena. 

Wild. 

Detention

Fig for Using up Two Luck Points Pre-Excursion Into a Doom Forest to Conceal a Crush 

I adore both Fig generally and Fig in this episode specifically but, truly, what a waste of Luck points at the cusp what possibly could be such a dire moment. And she won’t get those back before a long rest. This storyline is going so slowly. I’ve written (as I’m writing this sentence) 48k words worth of Report Cards and it’s been like what? A week? Less than that? She might not get those back for a while.

Now do I wish she’d made a different decision? Absolutely not. Emily, as always, is ride or die for the roleplay and I both love and respect it. 

But I can high-key see this biting her in the ass.  

Honor Roll

Kristen for Holding her Own Against Kalina

I think this marks K-girl’s first appearance on the Honor Roll and in my opinion (mine being the only one that matters I guess since I have no oversight and am Czar of this arbitrary award) she really earned it. First that clutch perception nat 20 to spot her and then having to hold the entire conversation by herself with no backup because she was the only one who could see her. I think this was actually a really good time for her to use her wild downplaying attitude and she was able to keep Kalina occupied for long enough for Riz to gather some of the most interesting pieces of info about Kalina yet. Very clutch.    

Random Thoughts

For a closer look into character/location descriptions from this episode, you can check out @jamiebluewind‘s posts here and here.

“Has your girl ever not delivered?”/”Yes.”/”Multiple times.”/”I mean, it’s always entertaining when you don’t.”

Lou and Siobhan Re the Hangan: “Can it turn into a Gundam?”/”Is it a transformer?”

Shoutout to Brennan for heading off flying Van shenanigans at the pass. That would have been an Immediate Problem. 

“I have never touched my Dad’s butt, nor do I want to.”

Brennan breaking himself during his first Gilear line of the ep. I wonder if he goes into any Gilear sentence knowing where he’s going, or if it’s all freeform improvisational jazz.

I think it’s really interesting that Fig fully loves Gilear but also still calls him Gilear and not Dad. Not deep meta point or anything. I just think it’s an interesting quirk of the character.   

Fig fully intending to eat an obvious death mushroom and every other party member at the same time slapping it out of her hands. 

I think I’ve mentioned on several occasions that I’m not really a shipper. Which isn’t to say I don’t enjoy romantic relationships in media. It’s just that it’s usually pretty clear which relationship the narrative is setting up so I really don’t get the point in basically campaigning for something that’s clearly going to happen (in which case, just enjoy the progression) or campaigning for something that’s clearly not going to happen and then being disappointed. But I gotta say, this Fig and Ayda has been a ride, I think largely because there was really no way to see this was coming when Ayda was introduced. Like, Tracker for instance was clearly introduced with Kristen in mind, down to being the Moon Cleric to her former Sun Cleric. Not only was Ayda not set up as a romanceable NPC, she very easily could have been skipped as even an option for befriending at all. She didn’t really make herself super available for it and it wasn’t even Fig who struck up a friendship with her initially. It was Adaine. And then Adaine got kidnapped which pushed the two resident Adaine stans together and, what do you know? Sparks (and not just from Ayda’s hair). The organic-ness of the relationship really added something that makes it really interesting and special. 

Also, lol that Fig finally found an age appropriate relationship but she’s also technically 150.

“I’m not gonna mend your piss pants.” 

For Adaine, the peak of luxury is access to fluffy robes which, mood.

OK, just to explicitly state my current pet theory that I alluded to last week, it seems pretty darn likely that Kalina is the familiar of the Mystery goddess. I said that cats are the most iconic witch’s familiar and, this ep, we saw the goddess depicted with a black cat. Plus, Brennan casually but very specifically noted that Kalina isn’t a big-cat. She’s like the tabaxi version of a house cat. And we learned that Kalina seems to be intangible which takes away one thing that was a little off for me--it seemed more like she was spreading a virus but the fact that she is intangible and just visible to people who are “infected” makes it seem more like she herself is the virus. AND, we were introduced to the concept of an Awakened, Sentient animal companion this episode which would be a great thing to do if you’re setting up the fact that this witch goddess turned her cat into a full sentient being and then a tabaxi and then a virus.  

Lol at Tracker giving Sandra-Lynn a Shovel Talk re: Jawbone. 

Riz, upon being questioned by Kristen where he got the photo of her for the “Casual” conspiracy wall he’s making: Look, you take pictures you hang them.

I want the Bad Kids to keep the motto of, “Spring Break!” year round. I want them to use it forever. I want them to be in their 30s--well out of school--and run into a deadly situation in the middle of Winter yelling, “I believe in you! Spring Break!” while very, very confused bystanders watch them. That’s really what friendship is about. Confusing the hell out of strangers with your in-jokes. 

Between last week of Fantasy High and this week of CritRole, I think a lot of people just learned what the Hallow spell is. 

“Just by being here we’re stealing. I’m like Robin Hood.”

Hangman: No rules!/Adaine: Some rules!

Guys I was SO concerned that Fig was gonna pull a Fabian and do something Concerning without any party support. So happy she decided to just get her kisses in instead. And then at the end of the ep when the two most chaotic party members were given a hell door that it 1000% seemed like they were gonna jump through but were ust handed legal paperwork instead.  

Figs comment about one of the best parts of friendship being getting to be a “chorus of nonsense” together without regard for what’s being said is so real.

I love the D&D gag of the party members who are not at an intense moment interjecting with whatever nonsense they’re doing. 

Everyone holding their collective breaths and then breaking as Emily succumbs to the urge to Touch a Thing. “You simply must.”

Ayda thinks “Choke on grapes, bitch,” is an excellent threat, and I agree.

Who cares for Ayda when she’s a newborn? Or is she reborn old enough to take care of herself? Also, update: Aguefort even worse dad than initially thought. 

Fig skateboarding away and dropping invisibility so Ayda can see and then later kissing her and Ayda going full visible are such cinematic moments. Well, the second one is at least. The first is just extremely funny. 

“I’m not gonna kiss the shrimp, Kristen. It’s dead, and we killed it.”

“I desperately and only want you to stay. And the only thing I want to do more than stay is do something for you” Why does Brennan keep dropping these raw ass lines casually in his high school D&D game?

“Can I get a help action from the jets of the hot tub?”

One little moment I loved from this ep was Mira being confused by the concept of a rock star and Adaine translating that she’s a bard/troubadour. I also just love the word troubadour. We shouldn’t have ever stopped using it. 

“That makes me nervous. Everything makes me nervous. Sure, why not.” Mood.

Mira also makes a comment about how diverse the group is that did *not* sound like a positive or even neutral statement and, listen, I’m getting Daybreak vibes my dudes.

Very funny every time we’re reminded that the reason the Bad Kids are doing this is because it’s a school project. 

Interesting character detail that Adaine started off talking about Aelwen and Arianwyn with distancing language but eventually slipped back into just calling them her mom and sister. 

A note in case it’s relevant later: Nuathra said that Crafty--his druid companion--was not a fan of cleric stuff, thought it was nonsense, and tried to avoid it at all costs. 

Fabian re Nuathra: What did the fox say?

Kristen asks Kalina’s name and she says, “You can call me Kalina,” which is subtly different than, “My name is Kalina,” which is probably just a turn of phrase and not plot relevant but I’ve been reading a lot of Fae stuff recently and a hyper-aware of weasel-out wording right now. 

“You good?”/”Now that I’m being pressed into the grass by all my friends? Yes.”

Adaine to Riz’s earlier encounter with Kalina: That was all you? You did all that damage to yourself?

I love Fig’s outrage at Adaine joking that she uses Detect Thoughts. The idea of, “We kill people and break into places and Catfish adult men but we DO NOT Detect Thoughts on each other that is the LINE.”

Kristen giving herself a sexy roleplay promotions from Officer up to Colonel was killing me. That whole thing was such a good bit and Ally and Brennan were on the same page immediately.  

Can’t wait to see the demonic (or is that devilish?) legal system so I can tell y’all how accurate it is and use something I learned in law school for once in my life. (Note: I am a lawyer, but you’d be surprised how unhelpful law school is to actually being a lawyer). 

Wonder what that subpoena was for. Maybe something involving Gorthalax or the wall? I’m trying to think of what they’d have jurisdiction over. She said the dude she works under is on the Sloth level of hell. 

Siobhan mentioned she has good Portent rolls right now which is comforting to hear. Lol, imagine if she had also decided to go full teenager this episode and use them to ferret out Fig’s crush.   

I need you to know that, in this same week (all within 48 hours of each other), between CritRole, Naddpod, The Good Place finale, I was really just drowning in content and emotions. 

The only crit of the ep is a nat 20 from Kristen. 

[things2mustdo]

On July 6th 1994, twenty-six year old Troy Kell, inmate and white supremacist gang member at Utah State Prison, killed Lonnie Blackmon, a black inmate, with 67 blows from a prison shank while prison guards videotaped the attack. The deed done, Troy wiped his hands clean of the blood and walked away, proudly yelling:

“Got some white power jumpin’ off around here!”

Later, in an interview with HBO for it’s documentary Gladiator Days : Anatomy Of A Prison Murder (2002), Troy explained his reasoning behind why he killed Blackmon.

TROY

“I went into the situation that I’m gonna hafta kill the guy – I’m not gonna…jus hurt ‘em, I’m not gonna stab him two times and say ‘yeah we’re even’, you know, cause the philosophy in prison is, you know, you stab me I kill you… I just stabbed the shit outta him, you know, until he didn’t move anymore.”

“I’ve seen guys hesitate…on not thinkin’ somethin’ was serious, and it was serious, and they get themselves stabbed up. Or they get themselves fucked off…they get themselves killed.”

A brutal view on life. Yet it’s not surprising to hear from an inmate who had been imprisoned for another murder since he was eighteen. Troy’s first murder was James Kelly [real name James Thiede], a twenty-one year old Canadian man in Troy’s hometown of Las Vegas. Troy, with the assistance of Sandra Shaw (fifteen at the time) and another friend, lured Kelly into the desert and ambushed him, where Troy shot Kelly six times in the face at point blank range.

Who was Troy? Where did he come from? What was the series of events that drove him to commit two murders, both of which placed him on death row?*

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xL_PlbqyLcI

One of the most startling aspects of Troy, from watching the documentary, is just how intelligent, almost proverbially All American he comes across as. Troy was not some trailer trash kid, doomed for eventual incarceration.

TROY

“I was raised in Las Vegas, Nevada, little middle class family. I’m the only child.”

“I think I was probably just an ordinary kid on the block, I wasn’t any different, or anything from anyone else that I noticed.”

“My father’s into horses, and kinda a redneck background, country boy kinda thing, and we had horses and stuff.”

“I was expected…to be successful, you know, my family, you know, they’re not losers.”

His neighbourhood was middle class, his school was middle class. Troy was thoroughly middle class. So why did he, at eighteen, kill James Kelly? For the answer to that, we have to turn to Sandra Shaw.

Sandra was three years younger then Troy. They met quite early, when they were children.

SANDY

“Troy’s been a part of our life, um, ever since I first came to Las Vegas. Um, since I was probably, like, six years old. We lived on one corner of the street and on the opposite street he lived at the other corner. And um, me and a couple of friends, two little girlfriends, were walking down the street and him and his little friends were sitting in front of their house on their bicycles and you know they were watching us googly eyed cause he’s three years older then me. So when we got all the way to the end of the street, towards the desert, you know, we turned around and said somethin’ real sassy and they chased us on their bikes and we ran and he jumped off his back and tackled me into the grass and you know it just became like a plaything. And since then he was like, ‘You’re gonna be my girlfriend’ and I was like, ‘No I don’t even like boys’.”

There was obviously some romantic tension going on between the two of them from a very young age. Though Troy and Sandy both refer to each other in a younger sister older brother dynamic, it’s clear that at least Troy felt a deep attraction to Sandy. Why shouldn’t he? After all, she was the quintessential girl next door whom eagerly spent time with him. Sandy was a cute little girl, and Troy was no slouch himself.

SANDY

“His father was really really strict, and um, I remember one time on his birthday, we were, he was turning thirteen and I believe I was ten and I rode my bike all the way to the mall and I bought him a Nike outfit and he had to sneak out in his back yard and climb up on the brick wall for me give him his gift, because he was on restriction – he was always on restriction – just, for absolutely nothing.”

That’s an almost classical scene of romance, and one wonders how many other secret rendezvous Troy and Sandy had over the years.

In many ways Sandy herself was the counterpart of Troy – the proverbial All American girl; pretty, a cheerleader, precocious and outgoing – though her family was struggling on the line between middle and lower class (Connie Shaw appears to be a single mother). By all counts, Sandy was destined for a typical middle class life herself. Perhaps even with Troy.

SANDY

“When I was thirteen years old I was spending the night at a friend’s house and her step father went into a jealous rage and shot and killed her mother and her mother’s two friends and then killed himself. It changed my life.”

That man was Alex Egyed, a budding computer entrepreneur who may have been a well recognized name today if he hadn’t gone on a rampage and left Sandy covered in blood, huddling in a bathtub with her friend. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only incident Sandy was going to have with extreme violence.

CONNIE

“Another episode happened to her; she’s walkin’ home from school, uh, sees this guy runnin’ up behind her, girl in front of her, sees the guy shoot…the girl, in the back of the head. She’s already gone through this. Now this is two. How many times – I mean, I’m forty-eight years old, I mean, I’ve never seen anyone, in my lifetime, get shot. She’s seen two.”

These episodes left Sandy a broken girl; a girl barely on the cusp of her womanhood.

SANDY

“I detached myself from my emotions, I didn’t have a sense of life or death, it’s all the same to me.”

Yet she was still a significant part of Troy’s life. And Troy really needed love in his life, since his own family had self destructed.

TROY

“My parents got divorced and I kinda bounced back and forth between them. It was kinda a struggle for me for awhile but, it’s nothin’ outta the ordinary… Any other kid goes through it.”

CONNIE

“His father must have been very tough on him, very abusive, I believe, with him. And his mother was never around. I know they were separated. But I don’t think his mother came around too much, I don’t know if it was because of the father…or what, you know, but uh, I guess he looked at me, more like a mother figure you know because he’s always sent me, even till this day, sends me a bouquet of mother’s day flowers.”

Troy and Sandy were both set adrift at a young age, both from broken homes, both experiencing severe forms of trauma – albeit Troy’s were less extreme. Because of his need for love, Troy grew ever closer to Sandy while Sandy threw herself into an abyss. Like many traumatized girls, Sandy began to slip down into degeneracy and self abuse. She began to hang around shady men and casinos while barely being a fully fledged teen, and at the age of fourteen she ran into James Kelly at the Circus Circus casino.

SANDY

“I met Cotton Kelly at Circus Circus eight months prior to this actual tragedy.”

“He ran some type of, um, adult entertainment business. He wanted me to pose nude for him.”

“He had started following me and calling my house constantly, harassing my family… And as a fifteen year old child, I made a very bad decision, a very immature request and I called upon Troy to beat the man up. To have him, leave me alone.”

A normal girl with a strong family could have resolved this situation with ease. A simple, hard talk by a good father with this James Kelly character would have spared everyone a lot of tragedy. Sandy, however, had drifted far away from being a normal girl and with nothing but a weak family at her disposal she allowed this situation to escalate and continue. Perhaps she even began to be sexual with Kelly, though she does not mention the full depth of their relationship.

In the end she turned to the one man she knew she could depend on.

TROY

“Me and a friend of mine from high school agreed to beat this guy up, because he was doin’ some things to some teenaged girls that we knew. She was a friend of mine, she was like a, a sister kind of, to me.”

“This guy, I felt, was takin’ advantage of a friend of mine, and she asked for my help… And…I…went, kinda overboard.”

Eight months. That’s how long Sandy allowed James Kelly to be a part of her life. How many nights did Sandy turn to Troy? How many nights did she cry on Troy’s shoulder, detailing the horrors that James Kelly inflicted on her – and which she allowed to be inflicted on her. How many times did Troy have to hear Connie, a powerless mother, express her grief and frustration over this older man taking advantage of her daughter? Troy loved both these women.

Troy decided to save them. He told Sandy to lure Kelly out to the desert. So one night, in 1986, Sandy did just that. She made Kelly stop the car, claiming that she needed to pee. She went out, came back, pretended to hurt her leg and when Kelly came out to help her Troy put six bullets in Kelly’s head.

TROY

“For a reason that I, uh, can’t really understand, I decided to bring a gun and shoot the man. And killed him.”

“I didn’t go to sleep that night.”

Troy Kell, eighteen, murdered a degenerate man. He did it because he loved the tragic but degenerate Sandy Shaw. Because they bragged about the murder, soon schoolmates were visiting Kelly’s body in the desert.

When asked if he thought about running Troy said; “Yeah, of course.” When asked why he didn’t, “I…I don’t know. I didn’t have anywhere to run too. I couldn’t just keep on runnin’ and runnin’.”

Troy didn’t run because everything he loved lived on the corner one street over from his house. There was nothing else in the world for him.

One of the children who visited the body in the desert told their parents, and soon the police had Troy, his accomplice and Sandy in custody. They would convict Troy.

Surprisingly, Sandy was also tried and convicted. These were the days just before peak feminism so women weren’t the infallible angels that they are treated as today but still, after hearing about her abuse and her tragic past, the jurors sent a fifteen year old girl to jail for over twenty years.

In order to survive in jail, Troy quickly joined up with the white supremacist gangs. Eventually this would lead to the second murderous ambush of his life. Troy and fellow gang member Eric Daniels attacked Lonnie Blackmon with Eric holding his legs and Troy stabbing Blackmon with a shank 67 times. For this second murder Troy himself is currently waiting to face death.

I reiterate once more; by all accounts Troy was a normal kid. There was nothing in his childhood that would have led anyone to believe that Troy one day would end up a murderer of two men while leading a white supremacist gang in prison. If he just had to weather a broken home, as far too many middle class children nowadays do, he may have had a chance to move on and become a man of worth; other men have suffered worse and managed to raise good families and live a good life. Unfortunately Troy had the tragic fate of loving a girl who also came from a broken home, and like most women from such situations Sandy did not have the inner strength struggle for normalcy. She gave herself to degenerates and came to Troy whenever she needed to use his love.

This is a theme all too familiar with young men today. Young men are struggling to find peace in their lives while having to deal with their broken female counterparts. Most men can’t help loving who they love, and far too many men pay too high a price for this once noble emotion. The tragedies surrounding Troy Kell and Sandy Shaw provide an extreme example of this – and in the case of Sandy her despair motivated self destruction is understandable – but the dynamic of good men who need love and the rotten women who use it is one of the great (and unnecessary) social plagues of the modern age. Perhaps it always has been, going back through every society since time immemorial.

It seems nowadays that there is an epidemic of men being destroyed because of single parent upbringings or broken women. Yet Troy was destroyed in 1986. Who knows how many potentially decent men in the past have been destroyed because of similar situations. Who knows how many more in the future we’ll have?

We know the symptoms – it’s time to cure the disease, or we can expect nothing but more and more unnecessary tragedies like Troy Kell’s to occur in the future. Do we really want to grow old and live in a society full of young men like that?

I end with a comment from the video’s youtube page,

Darrylizer1

“Troy Kell is one the one hand a despicable human being, a stone cold killer, a sociopath or near one and a racist. But he’s in some ways he’s likeable, even admirable: he’s articulate, intelligent and is absolutely honest with himself and for the most part unblinded by bullshit. I’m not saying that he should or shouldn’t be put to death. His circumstance is just a very sad waste of human potential.”

*As of this article’s publication, Troy is still awaiting his death sentence. He requested to be shot by a firing squad.

Read More: Sunday In The Park

Although it was written decades ago, Bel Kaufman’s Sunday in the Park remains just as relevant today, if not more so, to what it means to be a man. Her story centers on a family enjoying a Sunday afternoon at the park and is told predominantly from the wife’s perspective. Relaxing on a bench, the wife watched happily as her son Larry played in the sand box before her. Sitting next to her, while reading the ‘Times Magazine section,” was her husband Morton.

Morton. A man as nerdy as his name sounded. Who was, “So city­pale, cooped up all week inside the gray factorylike university.”

As Larry played on, she noticed another boy digging in the sand too. This boy was fatter, more aggressive than Larry. And his father, a grizzly looking man, sat on the opposite side and  “seemed to be taking up the whole bench as he held the Sunday comics close to his face.”

Suddenly the fat boy threw sand at Larry, making him upset. After hesitating a moment, the wife intervened;

‘Don’t do that, little boy,’ she said sharply, leaning forward on the bench. ‘You mustn’t throw sand!’ The man on the bench moved his mouth as if to spit again, but instead let her speak. He did not look at her, but at the boy only. ‘You go right ahead, Joe,’ he said loudly. ‘Throw all you want. This here is a public sandbox.’

She felt a sudden weakness in her knees as she glanced at Morton.

Morton was listening too. But he hid under his magazine. Seeming to hope the matter would solve it self.

It didn’t.

He put his Times down carefully on his lap and turned his fine, lean face toward the man, smiling the shy, apologetic smile he might have offered a student in pointing out an error in his thinking. When he spoke to the man, it was with his usual reasonableness. ‘You’re quite right,’ he said pleasantly, ‘but just because this is a public place….’

The other man cut him off, and an argument ensued until the large man said “Aw, shut up!” They both rose. Morton reluctantly. The wife nervously imagined the coming violence, about what she should do, how she should react.

Until…

Morton adjusted his glasses. He was very pale. ‘This is ridiculous,’ he said unevenly. ‘I must ask you….’

‘Oh, yeah?’ said the man. He stood with his legs spread apart, rocking a little, looking at Morton with utter scorn. ‘You and who else?’

For a moment the two men looked at each other nakedly.

Then Morton backed down.

‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’ He walked awkwardly, almost limping with self-consciousness to pick up his son Larry and left with his wife by his side.

At first she was relieved. There was no violence. No one was hurt. But as they left the park, she began to feel something else, something…

Inescapable. She sensed that it was more than just an unpleasant incident, more than defeat of reason by force. She felt dimly it had something to do with her and Morton, something acutely personal, familiar, and important.

While walking to their car, Morton rambled on and tried to rationalize his defeat. But the more he did, the more distant she became.

Getting pulled further away from the sandbox, Larry’s cries grew worse. But once he started dragging his feet, Morton and his wife finally had enough.

‘If you can’t discipline this child, I will,’ Morton snapped, making a move toward the boy.

But her voice stopped him. She was shocked to hear it, thin and cold and penetrating with contempt. ‘Indeed?’ she heard herself say. ‘You and who else?’

—

At first glance Bel Kaufman’s story seems simple: There’s a stronger male, Morton backs down, he’s a wimp, needs bigger balls, women hate beta males, etc…

We know that already. But there’s another point to her story that’s hidden below the surface. Because Kaufman’s story isn’t just about lacking courage, it’s about what causes that cowardice; namely, apathy.

As a man, your first reaction to the story might be that she’s saying being a big brute pays off more than being a weakling. The big guy might have shown some dominating, alpha characteristics, but to think that way is to miss Kaufman’s point entirely.

The wife didn’t care that Morton was a nerd; that’s probably why she married him. Perhaps she was one too. But it was Morton’s lack of anger, his lack of pride in himself that bothered her. That he never developed the animal-like rage proving that he was the family’s protector in the most critical of moments.

…more than defeat of reason by force. She felt dimly it had something to do with her and Morton, something acutely personal, familiar, and important.

Morton’s cowardice proved to her what she knew deep down all along, that he didn’t love his family enough the way she did.

It is critical to realize that Kaufman never gave the wife a name in the story but did for the husband. By doing this she was trying to show that the wife had given her up identity to the family, and expected Morton do the same by being a man and fulfilling his end of the bargain.

That courage isn’t so much about standing up for yourself as it is about standing up for others. But he didn’t and that was the source of her resentment. So repeating the “You and who else” remark was a way of saying, “How are you going to raise your son to be a man if you’re not even one yourself?”

The great thing about Bel Kaufman is that she came from a time where women encouraged men to be what they are and not what they should be.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

“Winter’s Gem” (Sneakpeak) (Bucky Barnes AU SERIES)

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been scouted by your boss in Felicity Night, you were just a mere young, cleaner in Felicity night and have been living in the basement of the club for all your life. He's the most wanted Gigolo in the city, and taking him away from eager, thirsty women seemed to be impossible especially if he chose to be a Gigolo as his way of living.

Warning: There are NSFW parts in this AU, Kinda angsty, Parent to child type of physical abuse, 10-15 years of age gap but not entirely the type of age gaps that can be considered creepy, kinda slow burn. As of the moment, this chapter has curse words and mentions of sex.

Words: 2,681

A/N: This plot wasn't really exactly for Bucky to be honest. This has been in my drafts in Wattpad and I decided to just make it a Bucky Barnes AU instead. Let me know what y'all think, Tater tots! THIS IS A SERIES.

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits aren't mine. Only the edits and the entire AU of course. 😊

Dedicated to: @anxiousamandapanda​ - Yo, buddy! I dedicate this to ya’ because you have been my first friend in here! Love ya! 

It was evening where the sun finally sets whereas criminality most likely happens every time it reaches dawn. In a positive addition to that was the beautiful time of the day where sexy, ripped men began swaying their glorious and perfectly built topless, sweaty and greasy bodies accompanied with the slow music echoing around the area that comes with their performance.

Groups of aging women were sitting at a wooden round table, eyeing different gorgeous races of strippers like they were their preys while throwing a bunch of cash on stage. They were having at least some fun before their adulterated single-nights end. Their spouses were probably sleeping like a dead man at home or maybe even doing the same thing behind their backs.

The scene where older, depressed, needy, hungry ladies..and even men who were women at heart were pinning their dollars down on a man's underwear. It looked excruciating to some person who isn't used to seeing that. Hungry women were even using their paper bills as a towel, wiping their bills off the stripper's rock hard muscles before slipping it in the waistbands of their underwear. You've been immune to cringing, Not because the stripper named Drax was teasing the ladies that he was about to take his black underwear off, accompanied with his gray waterproof body paint sticking on his skin. The scene in front of you was normal in your daily life and you were totally used to it. You were used to Drax's set anyways.

The sexy bald headed Drax appeared to be enticing a 40 year old dark haired woman who slipped stacks of bills on his waistband. He gave her a slow body wave, taking her hand as he gave her the permission to touch, directing her hand on his very prominent pectorals before gradually sliding them down.

Woman with a dark hair couldn't control the felicity she felt, her facial features telling her group of friends how she was lucky enough to get a touch of his sweaty torso...Once her hand was close to his lower abdomen, Drax still holding on to his indescribable, cold features..He quickly backed away from the woman and continued stripping his way towards the pole.

Every woman squealed when Drax took his underwear off. You thought it would only be a tease, turns out he went all the way tonight.

You sighed, ignoring the women disrespectfully walking from where you were just mopping, you continued cleaning the tiled floor. Dipped your mop in the dirty yellow bucket of floating germs. Everybody's footwear were squeaking as they passed by your wet floor that hasn't been dried up yet. These women don't bother reading the warning sign that was blocking their way and you tutted to yourself before you continued to work.

"Oi! You dirty scum! Mop this barf, Will ya'?!" A middle aged woman wearing a displeasing floral and sparkly dress pointed at the splattered barf that was disgustingly laying in front of her foot. She hollered, rudely demanding you to clean the mess that her friend did. The woman even whistled for you to come over like you were a dog that she owned.

You hid a scorn beneath the scowl of your lips. Deliberately walking towards her and rigidly mopping the vomit off the floor. Some barf residues accidentally flew towards her expensive and newly designed looking sandals. 'Oh no.' Before you could even apologize to the woman, her veiny and calloused hand struck your face with a hard, rough slap.

The slap was quite similar to your mother's hand, even though it wasn't actually your mother's.

Your left ribs stung painfully as it suddenly hit an empty table from the strong impact, but you were used to this. You should be. You were used to all the violence that every human can take and give.

"You idiot! You had only one job but what the hell happened?! My Chanel shoes is now ruined! You stupid bitch! You're a worthless cunt!"

You stood up like nothing happened, ignoring the stingy slap that was now lingering your right cheek. You still sent her an apology, but you didn't bother cleaning her shoes. She could get that cleaned up on her own or if she's really a Germophobe then she could just buy another new one.

Rich, arrogant people could have every thing in the world in just a snap of their fingers. You weren't an idiot who would beg on your knees just for her to forgive you. She wasn't worth an apology, a wholehearted apology. It was just an accident, and by the looks of her face? She was far more intoxicated from swaying around like a drunkard and you didn't want to earn another hit even though you were used to the pain of being beaten.

You were quick to carry the pail of dirty water and your mop before going to the bathroom with a stingy red hand print on your face. You didn't mind it at all as you passed by a mirror, completely blocking out those continuous moaning from one of the women's cubicle. Play it cool, Y/N. Play it cool.

The thought of calling Bucky was distracting your mind while you were pouring the pail of gross vomit and dirt in one of the sinks. If you call him, Will he stop whatever he's doing for you? Or who ever he's doing? He told you to call him whenever you needed him or whenever you're lonely, depressed or hurt. You're physically hurt right now. Does it count?

You both only have each other. There's a reason why you were being dependent towards him. Your mother didn't have an ounce of care towards you plus your father was probably dead anyways. You found the warmth that you wanted and needed from him. Only him, only from Bucky.

You brought the mop back to its proper place, at the farthest end of the bathroom before dialing your speed call. He told you to do it, so you could call him urgently when you're in danger and you quickly did since you always do listen to what he says.

"Oh my God!" You heard a voice of a woman who was moaning in pleasure. Your face contorted in discomfort, resulting to a cringe that probably looked hilarious on another person's point of view. The moans you've heard that was coming from that certain woman in one of the cubicles finally came to halt, was she pleasuring herself? you couldn't hear any moans besides hers.

You were planning on barging in and singing 'Gorilla' on her face since she was being too noisy for her own good. Oh, The man that she's with got himself an old screamer, if there was even a man with her, you were lost in your train of thoughts.

She was loudly pounding the locked up door while she was being fucked, and you were fighting off a loud laugh as to how this woman was reacting to sex. It was like she had the greatest 'fondue' for her entire life..or it's maybe because the sex was too good for her to handle?

You quietly chuckled it off, shaking your head in disbelief as you brought your phone to your ear, the phone rang and you were eager and excited to hear his voice. You're tapping your finger on the marbled sink, your reflection distracting you from your reverie. Your lips turned into a frown, loud insults of yourself kept on barging inside of your head. All you can see was a flawed, hideous ugly woman dressed in plain blue jeans with a plain black shirt that wasn't fitted for you. Obviously, It wasn't your size and the shirt was definitely not yours because it was from Bucky.

Those scars that were evident on your face were the proofs from your tough battles. Those are the memories from your horrible past that you overcame, and you were proud to have it since Bucky told you that it simply shows how strong of a woman you are in life. Every scar was a downfall. But, Those downfalls were brought to the top by him. Only him. To make it short, he was simply the strength to your weaknesses.

It rang for the fifth time and you were cringing at the thought that maybe he's 'busy' with his latest customer. You were about to end the call, until the man that you were dying to hear from finally answered.

"You okay, Doll?" He rasped quietly, voice laced with worry and care.

Bucky was always quick to ask that question every time he answers the phone. Your heart flattered as you could hear how worried he is, and you couldn't help but truthfully answer him back with a smile on your face.

"No. I miss you..Can you be with me right now?"

"Of course. I'll be there in a jiffy, Doll. Just give me a second,"

A grin formed on your face and it couldn't help but make your heart flutter in the most extreme. Your index finger traveled up the mirror as you touched it, noting how dirty it already was. You reminded yourself that you needed to clean the bathroom when the club closes.

You smiled alone, daydreaming about Bucky..Whenever you needed someone, he has always been there to save you. Always.

"Do you even know where I am, Bucky?"

"That's why I was asking you, Y/N. Tell me where you are and I'll be there quick--you're going? That fast? That was just a quickie!"

You heard the love of your life spoke as a woman's voice piped in from the other line of the call before it ended in a echo, you couldn't help but feel the familiar pain inside your heart as you knew that you were sharing him with other married, divorced, horny, and needy women that were obviously older and richer than you.

Your mind does always question your heart if you could still handle the pain? Can you? Are you strong enough to handle the pain when you're still fragile enough to break in just one touch?

He's your everything. He's the reason you stay alive.

You're wholly his, His heart is yours. But, his body..his body wasn't only for yourself.

Mind, Heart, Body and Soul. Those four constituents were partners in crime with love. You have his mind and heart, yet his body isn't yours. You share it with other hungry hunters that ought to have a taste. Now, you understood how lions and tigers were fast in hunting their preys since it would be unsatisfying if their prey was to be snatched by another.

And his soul? His soul was signed by the devil.

But, you didn't care. You always tell yourself that you didn't care. Bucky was still yours to love.

You heard the creak of a cubicle door as your eyes lit up from staring at the sink. Seeing a woman in her 40's came out with a disheveled hair, an obvious tight Botox that outdid her face and a tight, red dress that was up to her thighs as it was hung a little. The woman didn't look like she was in her 40's. She looked ten years younger. You were too good at realizing her age in just one look of her tight pretty, rich face.

She was grinning and smiling, looking like she was in her own precious little bubble. The smile was showing how she loved every bit of what happened and you couldn't help but shake your head in disappointment. You remembered that this woman had a husband since you saw her in a mall the other day, walking arm in arm together with her bald, big belly of a husband that looked rich as hell.

Her smile faded into a frown as a sudden realization hit her.

"I payed for you! For a night! The whole night! Not just for a quick fuck in the bathroom!"

"Well, Ma'am.. Your payment is not enough to have my whole night. You know I cost higher than any other gigolos out here! Why don't you just come back some other time,"

The woman's eyes sparkled in joy and you finally turned your back to see her face to face. You were a noticeable eavesdropper at the moment. Your eyebrows were furrowed, you knew that voice. The man she was having some intense and intimate moment had his broad, ripped back at you. You had a feeling it was Steve or Sam But, deep inside..you knew you're trying to act oblivious and stupid as a painful sight before you was beginning to unfold.

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"No. Find another available fucker. I don't spend the night on another woman's bed.." He shook his head in disdain, appearing to fumble with the zipper of his slacks. "Not anymore,"

"But, I only want you!"

"I don't care who you want, need, or anything your lust says, Mrs. Williams. I'm not available, nor will you have the chance to have me again. Do I make myself clear?" The man in a black crisp suit snapped and surly sneered. He spun around, deciding to leave the aging, absent-minded woman alone. But he stopped and stared. The dazzling blue eyes that you've manage to love waking up to every morning lost its hostility, quickly changing to a loving but stupefied look.

"Sugar?"

You were lying to yourself. You knew it wasn't Steve nor Sam or any other gigolo. That man's voice only belonged to the man you gave your heart, mind, body and soul.

It was your Bucky.

The man who owns you. But, sold his body to women who wanted him.

You wanted to be selfish, but you can't. You couldn't. It was his way of living and you have no choice but to accept that.

You didn't even know if you could still handle the love of your life in being the most requested Gigolo in this club that both you and your mother works in. You were no sugar mama, so you couldn't help him pay what he needed and wanted in life. You were only a mere janitor living in the basements of the club you were in.

What you've tasted, these hungry pussies have already tasted it too. What you touch, hug, kiss and adore..

Well, you bet they already did everything with him too.

Nevertheless, you weren't one who won't be putting up a fight to let them know who he rightfully belongs to because you would and you will.

He was yours and yours alone. You already had that scribbled upon your grave.

This is just a sneakpeak or like an introduction to the series. IF YA WANNA BE INCLUDED IN THE TAGLIST, SEND ME AN ASK. Or just turn on the notification button for my blog so y’all will see every update I post. This can be quite a rollercoaster ride, alright? Hehehe!

XOXO, TATA

[bigskydreaming]

Hi! I'm new to your blog but found a few posts that were about a JayTom ship, and I was wondering who Tom was? And also you've mentioned in a couple of posts the idea of Jason having a lineup of Titans in his age range and you talked about the Ray and Damage in one. Do you have a whole lineup in mind for them and if so, is there a post on that somewhere?

LOL man, I really need to start pulling all my posts about JayTom and Jay’s lineup of Titans together for some kind of a masterlist, so thanks for the reminder haha. Like, I saw this ask and thought of various posts to point you towards but ugh, I don’t know where any of them are.

Anyway, so. The Tom of JayTom. Aka my ideal ship for Robin!Jason in the series of one-shots about an AU where Jason doesn’t go to Ethiopia in ADITF and thus never dies, that’s kinda grown out of that of a one-shot I started as a writing commission a couple months ago, if anyone else remembers that….the one that was like ‘what if Jason called Dick after the Garzonas incident and Dick sided with Jason’…that one. 

Which then snowballed into ‘well, then I could give Jason his own lineup of Titans who are in the same age range as like a younger gen learning from Dick’s generations of Titans but still older than Tim’s generation of YJ and then eventual Titans.’

Sigh. Oh, me. Right! So! Anyway! Tom in JayTom is Thomas Bronson, the son of JSA member Ted Grant, aka Wildcat. 

Tom and Jason have never ever interacted in canon as far as I know, as I don’t think Tom’s ever appeared outside of JSA and Jason never appeared in that book either before or after his death. BUT by the magic of winging it and Canon Has Not Definitively Contradicted Me, I think the two of them are feasibly in the same age range, so I’m going with them both being fifteen when they meet here.

Tom’s a scrappy, street smart, attitude throwing teenager with daddy issues of his own, lol, thanks to Ted’s general non-existence in his life, for most of it….and he’s also tiny, like, 5′6″ and 135 lbs even at the end of his teenage years. LMAO, I honestly don’t remember, but I think that might be the whole basis of this ship for me, or where it originated. Like, I happened across Tom’s stats as listed on one of the DC wiki sites, and was like, lol oh, he and Robin!Jason could be pint-sized punks together! And then from there, I had the inevitable thought “okay but now make them gay” and then from there I fell into my usual trap of “oh no, it was supposed to be a joke but now I’m taking it seriously and seriously pondering how it could seriously work.”

And then from there it consumed my brain and devoured my life. I swear, it was Dick/Kyle all over again. Ugh, my brain is so problematic.

So anyway, this is Tom:

He’s a werepanther, he can shapeshift into a panther form to fight, which brings up an interesting facet of his character and something I think could be really fun to play off Jason and his own issues…because Tom hates fighting. HATES it. Will run from a fight at any given opportunity rather than engage….but its not because he’s a coward, or doesn’t have heroic instincts of his own, and its not even because he’s not GOOD at fighting.

Its that he’s scared of himself, and scared of hurting whoever he’s fighting…at least more than he means to. Because he has trouble controlling his shift when in fights. His panther form just comes out in response to his own amped up levels of aggression. The fight or flight response for him is actually more like “flight or turn into a raging whirlwind of clawed and fanged fury that can’t stop won’t stop until he’s definitively won his fight….which by extension, usually means his opponent is currently bleeding out on the ground from a few dozen deep claw marks because Panther!Tom’s claws and fangs are SHARP.”

Now pair this fear of his own power with Tom’s natural belligerence and problems with authority at certain points in his life, AND his desire to follow in his hero father’s footsteps as well as his resentment and giving himself grief every time he realizes he even has that desire, because he doesn’t owe his deadbeat dad shit and can’t stand that he nevertheless admires him in a lot of ways and still feels a desire to prove himself to him…

Then pair him up with Jason during his Robin years, going through similar issues and emotions as well as a comparable dynamic with Bruce as him not dying in Ethiopia nevertheless changes nothing about the two of them likely clashing more and more over their views on how to deal with criminals and the appropriate levels of aggression when dealing with them….

And that right there, IMO, is super strong potential for a dynamic couple with a lot in common and yet occasional clashes of their own due to different opinions on which direction to go in so as to address those shared issues…but who likely would never hesitate for a second before backing each other up and presenting a united front against anyone else who tried to give one or the other shit for any reason whatsoever.

Also, I have vastly amused myself with the thought (and the occasional post here and there) of Ted and Bruce continually glowering at each other and blaming each other’s son for being a bad influence on their son, who has never done anything wrong in their life ever, CLEARLY (even if Bruce had actually just grounded Jason the day before. Whatever. Ted doesn’t need to know that).

Anyway, so that’s the JayTom I reference now and then. I’ve always maintained that Jason could really benefit from having a stronger support system of friends distinct to him and not sharing similar dynamics with any of his siblings, so then I was like, well if Jay doesn’t die, and I have him and Dick closer in this AU than they’re usually written as being, plausibly Jason would spend a lot of time at the Tower to get away from Bruce and his own fights with him. 

With Dick being more than able to relate to trouble dealing with Bruce and thus happy to lend a sympathetic ear….and eventually maybe express to Bruce that it might do them both some good for Jason to make more friends his own age and have some normal routines that took him out of the house and Gotham enough that he and Bruce don’t constantly feel like they’re breathing down each other’s necks and keeping tension a constant thing between them. A little space now and then could benefit them both, give them chances to cool off after their fights and actually MISS each other before readdressing the issues.

So then I could see the Titans kinda sending out invitations/recruiting various teen heroes around Jason’s age that they’d all maybe had their eyes on for awhile as kids who could benefit from the same kind of team unity/group support that helped them so much when they were that age just a few years ago themselves.

Which leads me to where I am now which is….I still haven’t settled on a solid lineup, because I came up with too many choices, lol. Basically, my parameters were I wanted characters who could feasibly be said to be in the same age range as Jason and Tom, and didn’t have super strong associations with any other characters that would create any kind of conflict with them being on a Titans team at this point in the timeline instead. And because I’m all about my thematics, I wanted them all to have certain root issues in common that they could all bond over and actually, y’know, support each other with and through. 

(The same way I think Dick’s generation of Titans actually has certain distinct themes and issues that almost all of them share and can relate to in varying ways, which I think has a lot to do with how quickly and fully they all bonded and why they created such lasting friendships and teams between them. But that’s a whole other post, lol.)

So the central shared issues I decided to focus on for Jason’s age group of Titans were: teen/young heroes from abusive homes or runaways, ones with issues and fears stemming from and regarding their own powers or tempers, etc, and misfits who were regarded warily by other or older heroes and considered potentially able to end up on either side of the hero/villain line in the sand.

Which Dick’s generation of Titans, which of course includes Raven, Kory, etc, would not be in agreement with that last part, and thus be all the more likely to recruit these specific teen heroes and be like nyah, nyah, watch how with our help and oh yeah, SUPPORT, they all become the best damn heroes that ever did heroically hero. Suck it, JLA-holes!

(And then Donna would be like, not you Diana, you know we’re cool, its just I gotta do the team solidarity thing and Dick, Garth and Roy are still being Displeased with their mentors/dads at the moment, and also we’re all kinda ticked you guys stole Wally. Btw, we’re stealing the new Green Lantern kid, because Revenge and stuff. He’s ours now, you snooze, you lose).

 So, Jason’s lineup of Titans will consist of some of the following, I’m just not 100% sure which yet, because I have to whittle down the list.

1) Jason (nominally mentored by Dick, but the latter just calls it an excuse for brother bonding time and neither of them make much reference ever to having any kind of actual mentor/protégé relationship like I see the rest of Jay’s lineup having. Plus, Jason unique from the rest already has a mentor in Bruce anyway, so his situation and reasons for being part of this team aren’t quite the same from the others, especially as one of my reasons for this AU was always addressing the issues I have with Bruce’s parenting before the canon event point of Jason’s death, and like…..so like, Bruce does get better once Dick calls out some of his shit with Jason based on his own experiences with Bruce and then later Jason returns the favor by calling out Bruce for taking Dick for granted and no longer putting in the same effort connecting with his eldest and being an actual PARENT to him like he used to).

2) Tom Bronson/Tomcat (who else would act as his personal mentor other than Gar aka Beast Boy aka Changeling, the shapeshifter extraordinaire?)

3) Grant Emerson/Damage (recruited by Roy and his personal protégéand likely BFFs with Jason IMO, as I think their temperaments are complete opposites but Grant’s the kind of kid who would roll his eyes and dolefully follow his troublemaking best friend Jay into likely danger, because his power to blow things up really comes in handy with the kind of scrapes Jason gets himself into and this in turn is a really handy thing to point out in the aftermath of pulling Jason’s butt out of a scrape and then gloating but in the totally mature and “I’m much too nice to actually be gloating, you must be mistaken about what’s happening here” manner in which I see that going down. And in terms of the parameters I mentioned, Grant grew up bounced around abusive foster homes, is watched like a hawk by various groups and heroes because of the huge catastrophic potential of his powers, which he has his own fears about, and also he has no idea who his parents are either, and I imagine him and Jason going on a ‘find out who our real parents are roadtrip’ after graduation or something).

4) Ray Terrill/The Ray (potentially recruited by Kory and her personal protégé. He was briefly a member of Tim’s Young Justice team, but part of the reason he was never that close with the other members was he was a little bit older, just a couple years or so, but enough to put him squarely in Jason’s age range. Also comes from an abusive home, and spent the majority of his childhood living in complete darkness because his asshole uncle told him he had the same powers as his father which meant sunlight would be harmful to him and make him dangerous to be around. When in reality, like his dad, Ray’s powers are fueled by sunlight and he’s like a living solar battery, keeping him afraid to leave the dark was just meant to keep him passive and powerless. Even knowing his uncle lied now, Ray still has long had fears about his own powers, unable to totally shake the fears his uncle instilled in him).

5) Todd Rice/Obsidian (potentially recruited by Raven and her personal protégé. He and his twin sister Jenny-Lynn Hayden are probably a bit older than the rest of this team, but their ages aren’t definitively linked to any points in the DC timeline, so there’s no real conflict between handwaving them as aged down to be right around the same ages as the others. Todd and Jenny-Lynn are the twin children of original Green Lantern Alan Scott aka Sentinel, and the DC villainness Thorn. They grew up in separate foster homes though with Alan unaware of their existence for most of their childhoods. Todd’s childhood was notoriously rough, with him having several abusive foster parents. He’s canonically gay and mentally ill/neurodivergent, which several of his foster homes targeted him for. In addition, his shadow powers are tied to a dark dimension that’s said to prey on his mental state and led to occasional times where he’s been a villain briefly, and at all times his powers are regarded fearfully by most people and with him shunned and avoided because of them. All of which I think makes Raven an ideal mentor for him).

6) Jenny-Lynn Hayden/Jade (Todd’s twin sister, even though they didn’t grow up together for the most part. Honestly, she doesn’t share in a lot of the issues the rest of the team prospects do, and had a relatively good childhood before her powers developed and she found her brother and they started operating as heroes together. But upon learning who her brother and dad are, she’s always been committed to growing closer with them, so I think anywhere Todd goes in this AU, she’d definitely follow, and its not like the team can’t benefit from a heavy hitter like her, let alone more girls. Not totally sure who I picture as most mentoring her in specific, probably because I don’t see her as being recruited per se, so much as just going with Todd when recruited….but I’m thinking maybe Garth, actually. Garth has a lot of range and versatility with his powers and magic, which makes him ideal for mentoring someone who not only has the same powers as a Green Lantern, limited only by her imagination…..but who also might benefit from being mentored by someone who ISN’T a Green Lantern because she doesn’t share their traditional weaknesses and thus she’d be best off training with someone whose own techniques and instincts aren’t geared around weaknesses that are literally irrelevant to her powerset).

7) Courtney Mason/Anima (A metahuman runaway who was almost sacrificed by a cult before her powers kicked in….she’s also right in the same age range as Ray, Grant and Jason, and has briefly been a member of a couple Titans lineups but never for long and usually only for big event stories. But she fits the runaway/rough home environment parameter as well as fear of her own powers….she absorbs life energy from people and animals and can potentially kill them by draining too much. She also has a separate power that’s basically a connection to an other-dimensional spirit called the Animus that she can summon forth and unleash on her enemies. I’m thinking she’d make a good recruit/protégé for Jericho actually, for a number of reasons).

8) Cynthia Reynolds/Fantasia (? Maybe? Not sure yet. Not her actual codename, but her actual codename is a slur, so I’m def gonna make up a new one, I just haven’t 100% settled on what it is yet. Suck it, DC. She’s most known for being a member of Justice League Detroit along with Steel, Vibe and the Ray, but she’s the right age range to end up recruited to be a Titan here instead, like Ray. Also is a runaway from an abusive home, and often deals with mistrust and suspicion due to her illusion powers. Perfect recruit/protégé for Lilith, IMO).

9) Cisco Ramone/Vibe (Also created as a teenage hero to be part of the Justice League Detroit lineup, which makes him the right age range and he’s another runaway. The nature of his powers makes him a good fit to be a recruit/protégéof Mal Duncan/Herald).

10) Amy Allen/Bombshell (Totally self-indulgent on my part given that I basically would ignore the vast majority of her storylines and writing, which I think suck. She was in the Titans stories revolving around Tim’s generation of the team, but she was always stated to be a few years older than the rest, like in her late teens when the majority were probably sixteen, so I think she’s a good fit for this age range. Also had a crappy home life and parents, and her powers are hugely destructive in certain applications…she basically has the same powerset as Captain Atom, though she’s never had any kind of official mentor or sidekick relationship with him. Also, I think Captain Atom is an asshat and a dillhole and he sucks, but I do like his powers, so reinterpreting Amy as a character who doesn’t suck and playing around with her powers instead is solid decision making on my part and renders Captain Atom irrelevant now. I think I shall kill him. Because I can do that. Anyway, I think she doesn’t need him as a mentor but could make a good recruit/protégé for Leonid/Red Star).

11) Carla Moretti/Cinder (Odd choice, given that she’s only ever really been used as a villainous member of Deathstroke’s anti-Titans team and was easily in her twenties at the time. Pyrokinetic who happily makes bonfires out of her enemies but written with zero attempts at nuance, like a total one note villain framed as having long since abandoned her own humanity….which bugged the crap out of me, as she was given a super angsty backstory of childhood sexual abuse and that’s just ‘why she’s like this’ and I have a deep seeded loathing for asshole writers writing survivors as villains and just blaming their casual homicidal ways on their abuse while serving up said villains to just be punching bags or dominoes for the heroes to knock down on their way to the Boss Fight. So I do have inclinations towards making an actual Titan out of her, like with Amy, because surprise surprise, both these characters being written shittily and one note was the work of the same writer, shocking. So I’d just handwave her down to the right age range and have her recruited/mentored by Donna, probably…more due to me thinking Donna would be the best person to help her deal with stuff because she’s mastered the art of avoiding avoidance via having Dick Grayson as a BFF. So with them its not really because Carla needs mentoring with her powers specifically. Idk, Carla anyway you slice it I think has a lot of rage, and Donna knows what to do with that. Written right, Donna’s not a character who judges or shames a victim or survivor for being angry…she gets angry with them, and helps them find options for what to do with that now.) 

12) Hero Cruz (Lesser known Titan, has a device called the Dial H device that lets him turn into a different hero with different powers depending on the setting he puts it on. Basically Ben 10, but Hero came first. Doesn’t really fit most of the parameters, other than being around the right age range, and not even sure who would make a good mentor for him though I wanna say Vic, but not totally decided yet. Mostly I just like him and think he’s underused, so whatever).

There’s also a few other candidates that I have mostly ruled out but not totally. I thought about using the aged up version of Chris Kent, and just introduce him earlier than he showed up in canon. And then Kara/Supergirl could be his mentor because I kinda handwave her into Dick’s generation of Titans anyway, even though it was the alien Matrix version of Linda Danvers that was the only Supergirl ever on the team. Whatever. She should have been a Titan all along anyway. But also Chris would fit the team well as he had an abusive childhood as well, at his dad General Zod’s hands, and again, I just like the character. 

Thought of including Virgil Hawkins/Static too, even though I think he’s closer to Tim’s age range. And again, just another character I’m a fan of and think is underused, but he would definitely be an odd man out in this group because like….he comes from a happy, healthy, loving home and family, and he loves his powers. So he would constantly be just like nodding his head along while his teammates talk and like ugh that sucks, but 10/10 absolutely can not relate, my parents are awesome.  Same with Natasha Irons/Steel, who really would have to be handwaved to even be in the right age range, and again has a happy loving home environment and a superhero uncle of her own so its not like she needs a Titan mentor…..but I kinda wanna see Karen Beecher/Bumblebee take her under her wing anyway, and have them be science nerds together.

Also pretty much the only reason I ruled out Connor Hawke too, as he doesn’t really match the rest of the team in any of the parameters except for feasibly being right at the upper edge of the same age range. But again, I just love the character. 

So I’m probably gonna end up throwing at least one of these other characters in there anyway, lol. I do know myself).

Anyway. So that’s Jason’s lineup of Titans, or at least the candidates as they exist bouncing around in my head now. Also, they’re pretty much Team “Everyone is Gay Except For When They’re Bi.” Which, granted, is basically how I view Dick’s generation of Titans, but with them I have to be like Make It So, in my brain, whereas with this group like….canon’s actually done the work for me for the most part lol. Ray is gay, Todd Rice is gay, Courtney is bi, Hero is gay. And I can’t actually find anything confirmed Tom was stated to be gay somewhere in canon, but I SWEAR he was, like, ugh this is bugging me.

But anyway. That’s that about all of that.

[wroughtbetwixtfanfic]

Love, Blood, And Rhetoric, Ch 3.

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: Campbell’s just trying to survive in the new world. He knows he can make it– it’s everyone else he’s worried about.

Rating: Mature.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Mental Health Issues, Family Issues, Substance Abuse, Complicated Relationships, Consent Issues, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Mild Sexual Content, assuming Elle and Campbell are both 18 for the sake of things, Underage Drinking, PTSD, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, implied eating disorder, Fix-It, Campbell has mild ASPD, and is actively trying to not be awful

Word Count: 4782

Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || AO3

Campbell woke to the sound of his phone beeping.

It was early.  Sunlight filtered through the window, bright and shining as if nothing  had happened the night before at all. It would have seemed like any  other morning except for the fact that Elle was snuggled under the  covers and snoring quietly. He considered waking her up, but she looked  so peaceful that Campbell couldn't bring himself to do it. A few extra  minutes wouldn't hurt.

He eased out of the bed and tiptoed  downstairs, glancing at his phone. Voicemails. Texts. Two missed calls.  What the hell had happened now? Campbell opened his phone and read over  everything. Cassandra and Harry had texted and called him. Sam had  texted. There had been bunch of robberies, and a fight had broken out at  some point. Cassandra wanted to know if he and Elle were okay; Sam, to  Campbell's surprise, also wanted to know if he was okay. Harry, as per  usual, was just freaking out in general.

Yes, Campbell texted back to Sam and Cassandra, I'm fine. Are you?

Harry  could wait. Campbell wasn't ready for that mess, not until he'd had  some coffee; he turned the ringer on his phone off and let out a breath  of relief. Luckily, Grizz had sent out a mass text to everyone saying  the power had only been off for a few hours, and that Will said all the  food people had stored should be safe to eat. Cool. It meant Campbell  could cook breakfast. Fifteen minutes later and he was heading back  upstairs with frozen waffles, eggs, bacon, and two cups of coffee. Elle  was awake by the time he got back, stretching and yawning just as he  came through the door.

"Good morning, sunshine."

Elle rubbed her eyes. "Mm. The power came back on?"

"Just  in time to save our bacon, literally. I didn't know what you liked, so I  kinda just went with the staples... Unless you're one of those  free-range asparagus water types, then I can't help you." When Elle  didn't reply, Campbell set the tray down and sat next to her on the bed.  "Hey. No judgment, if you want free-range asparagus water, I can get  you some."

"No, no. I like all these things. It's just..." Elle  shook her head. "School here is almost as bad as ballet. There's so much  pressure to be so thin and pretty. And people here just hate me, even  when I look like they think I should. If I didn't..."

"If you didn't, you'd still be beautiful."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And you know what else is beautiful? A big stack of waffles with fancy butter and real maple syrup."

"I can't argue with that."

They  both ate in silence, knees touching; Campbell tried to think about how  to bring up the night before, but Elle seemed content, and he didn't  want to act like it was some big deal. After all, they'd just slept. But  what if he'd fucked up again? What if she was upset, but just wasn't  saying anything?

But then Elle's phone buzzed. She glanced at it  and sighed. "Cassandra's holding some sort of no-men-allowed meeting at  the church. I should go and see what's going on." Elle inspected  Campbell over the top of her phone. "Maybe you could go see Harry in the  meantime? He's called twice in five minutes."

She wasn't wrong.  More than that, there was another slew of text messages. Campbell  sighed, giving Elle a spare toothbrush from the cabinet and walking her  to the church once they were both freshened up a little. He waited until  she was inside before moving on to Harry's home; he probably should  have messaged first, but of course Harry would be home. He didn't really  have anywhere else to be. Not anymore.

"Fuck. Where've you  been?" Harry slurred, not even bothering to get up. He was sprawled in  his bed wearing not much more than a sheet. "I thought you got beat up."

"Your concern is noted."

"You didn't come to my party, Cam."

"No, Elle and I went back to my place."

"Ooh,  fun. I had some fun, too. Think I might be in love with Allie, for  real. She's like... gorgeous." Harry pushed himself up off the bed,  stumbling towards the bathroom. He didn't even try to cover up; he was  acting like he was still half drunk, and hell, maybe he was. "Is that  weird for you?"

Campbell ignored the comment, kicking some beer  cans towards the trash. He very suddenly wanted to be anywhere but in  Harry's presence. "You've gotta pull yourself together a little bit. It  looks like a dumpster in here."

"Okay, mom."

"Don't be ridiculous. Your mother wasn't much better than this."

When  Harry came back out of the bathroom, at least he had on some underwear.  "What's gotten into you this morning? Would've thought you'd be in a  better mood."

"Since when do you get to make comments about my  sex life?" Campbell snapped. "Life isn't about screwing everything with a  pulse, you know."

"Don't be mad at me just because you don't get any."

Campbell  felt a surge of anger. His fists balled,  and oh god he wanted to punch Harry so hard his ancestors would feel it. "Keep your fucking mouth shut, Harry."

Something  in Harry's expression shifted, as if he'd become at least somewhat  sober the moment he heard Campbell's tone. "I'm just playing around,  Campbell. Seriously. What's with you?"

"Maybe I don't want to play."

"Are you... are you jealous?"

What  had been rage mere seconds before guttered and went cold, turning into  something hollow. Campbell's shoulders dropped. Their eyes met, and  Campbell wanted to just say it. But it was too goddamn late. "I gotta  go. Elle needs me."

"And I don't?"

"I'm sure Allie's available. Call her."

Harry  stared at Campbell like he'd been slapped. Campbell turned on his heels  and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. What the fuck had that  been? Campbell fumed at himself the entire way to the church; Elle was  waiting on the sidewalk, and though she smiled when she saw him, he  couldn't bring himself to smile back.

"What's wrong?" Elle asked. "Is Harry okay?"

Campbell  kicked a rock into the road. "Yeah, peachy. He's slept with damn near  everyone in this town, and finally got around to my cousin."

"Surely you don't mean Cassandra."

"No. Allie. Cassandra, I could understand. Allie? I don't know what the hell she's thinking, getting involved with him."

"I didn't think you and Allie got along."

"We  don't, but she's still family, and I'll end up having to hear about it  either way. And Harry... he's just confused. Latching onto anyone he can  for a distraction. But in the end he'll get left, and I'll have to  clean up the mess."

Elle was silent for a couple blocks. "It's  gonna get worse, isn't it? All of this. Cassandra said it's only a  matter of time before men start attacking women. That's going to be a  worse mess, if she's right."

"She isn't wrong. Did she say what she wants to do about it?"

"There's  going to be a meeting in a few days. She told us to talk to the rest of  you, see if we could get the men in town to agree to some ideas. Not  taking anything, a work schedule, that sort of thing."

It wasn't  going to go over well, Campbell knew. Even if all the women in town  agreed to it-- and they wouldn't all agree, that was clear from the  night several were prepared to walk out of the church-- that didn't mean  everyone else would. "She'll have to get the Guard on board. A lot of  people look up to them. Grizz and Luke probably will be easy to  convince. Clark's an asshole, but Helena is tough. She'll crack him."

"And you?"

"I'm always on her side."

Elle  stuffed her hands into her pockets. "It just feels so pointless. At  some point, we're gonna run out of medicine. Someone will get sick and  we won't have doctors. Electronics will wear out. Gas will run out.  Power, water. Aren't we just delaying the inevitable?"

"Hey."  Campbell stepped in front of her. "Don't talk like that. Yeah, we're  stuck right now, but we can survive this. I will dump these fucks off a  bridge if they try to hurt you. Okay? We'll be alright."

"You don't know that."

"There  are a lot of people here who know what they're doing. Cassandra,  Gordie, Bean. They're smart. So's Will, and he knows how to survive.  Grizz is like a weird bag of cool special interests, and I can do  anything that needs to be done that they won't do. Trust in us a  little."

"Trust isn't my strong suit."

"Me, either. But I trust them, even when I don't like them."

Storm  clouds were rolling in again. Elle looked up at them and shivered. She  didn't say anything, but she stepped around Campbell and kept walking  towards her home. By the time they got there, rain was starting to fall.  Campbell watched Elle stand in the front entrance; the place was oddly  sparse, for having been lived in for years, and Elle looked so small and  pale among the stark white walls and hardwood floors. Suddenly, he  understood what she'd meant by one person being alone in such a big  space. It didn't feel quite right. Not at her home, or his, either.  But...

"Can I stay over at your house for a few days?" Elle  asked, interrupting his thoughts. "I just really don't like the thought  of being alone."

"Yeah, of course. Estás en tu casa."

It  didn't take long for Elle to pack some clothes, her make up, and a few  other belongings. Campbell left and got the car, coming back to pick her  up; there was no point in walking in the rain and having her stuff get  damp. He helped her unpack in his parent's bedroom. He wasn't about to  ask her to stay in his room. It was a huge assumption, and besides, he  knew the value of having one's own space.

Elle was hanging up  her clothes when she saw him stop, looking at a framed picture. "That's  me, after that first solo I told you about." In the photo, she looked  even smaller, with a big toothy grin and flushed cheeks. Her parents  were darker blonde. Pretty. "We didn't get ice cream often, but we did  that night to celebrate."

"They look like nice people."

"They tried, I think. I'm an only child, so they went all in on me I guess."

"What's that like?"

"Intense."  She took the photo from him and set it on the bare nightstand next to  the bed. "They gave me a lot of love, but they expected so much from me  all the time. I guess it's an immigrant family thing, you know? Parents  want a better life for their kids. They gave up everything back home to  make sure I'd have a good future. It was hard, but I know they mean  well."

Campbell tried to smile, but it didn't really stick. "That sounds nice. It must suck to be here without them."

"I do miss them. What about your parents? Do you really not miss them?"

"No. I know I'm supposed to, but all I feel is relieved."

Elle  examined the room, her gaze falling on another picture. It was his  parents' wedding picture, sitting on the dresser across from the foot of  the bed. "I noticed they have a lot of pictures everywhere, too. It  must suck, being in a place surrounded by them."

"I guess so. I try not to think about it."

"Have you ever considered just getting rid of it?"

Eyeing  the picture, Campbell stood up and walked to the dresser. He lifted the  picture off the wall, took it to the trash basket, and dropped it in.  "Yeah, that does feel better."

They went through the house  together, with Elle holding a big, black garbage bag. Campbell dumped in  all the photos of his parents, and everything else that reminded him of  them. He avoided Sam's room, and left the photos that were just him and  Sam together. There was no telling what was going to happen between him  and Sam, but he didn't want to bother Sam's stuff, in case they  smoothed things over eventually.

When he was done, Elle hefted  the bag into the middle of the living room floor. "What do you wanna do  with it all? Take it to the dump?"

"I'll take it to the  basement." Campbell dragged it away. "Thank you for helping me. It's  better, not having their blank eyes everywhere."

"Also less weird seeing your parents' underwear in the room where I'm sleeping."

Campbell  shuddered, taking the crap downstairs and sticking it in the darkest  corner of the basement. Why shouldn't he? Until the adults came back--  if they came back-- it was his house. What did he owe them, really? He  hadn't asked to be born. They had only done the bare minimum his whole  life. Most of everything he had, he'd worked to get for himself. They  weren't around to appreciate the crap, anyways. Campbell shut the door  to the basement and put it out of his mind. Time to start looking  forward.

They were making dinner when Campbell's phone buzzed.  Harry. He hit the decline button, going back to stirring the tomato  sauce he had on the stove; he wasn't in the mood for more drama and  whining. Elle looked up from the salad she was working on the second  time the phone went off. She didn't say anything, but Campbell saw the  question in her eyes.

"I need a night to cool off," Campbell  muttered. "I know he's probably drunk or high or both, and I just can't  deal with him like that."

"Do you get into fights often?"

"Every now and then. We know each other too well."

"You'd think that'd help you fight less."

"Maybe. For us, it just means we know how to hurt each other."

Elle  turned her attention back to the salad, but not before he saw the  troubled expression on her face. Well, it wasn't any secret that his  relationship with Harry wasn't healthy. Still. Harry depended on him,  and he knew Harry wouldn't actually leave, no matter how ill-tempered  Campbell got. Which was why, after he and Elle had their nice spaghetti  dinner and headed to their separate bedrooms, Campbell read the texts  Harry had left.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Please call me?

Campbell, I'm sorry. Pick up.

Please, Cam.  

I need you.

Ah, and there was the sweet spot. Campbell smiled at those three little words, opening the message and tapping out a reply. Heading to bed. I'll call you in the morning.  It was a cruel reply; he knew Harry wouldn't sleep well after that.  It'd do the guy some good to think about being an asshole to his few,  true friends. Campbell turned off the phone, rolled over, and  immediately fell asleep.

The next morning, Campbell woke up to  Elle sitting down at the foot of the bed. "Cassandra texted. She wants  everyone to meet up at the church." Elle had dark circles under her  eyes. "I didn't wanna wake you up, but she said it was urgent."

"It's okay. How long?"

"An hour and a half."

Campbell  nodded and stretched, rolling out of bed and into the shower. He was  half dressed when he popped downstairs, his shirt slung over one  shoulder. "Why don't you go on ahead? I'll have to go drag Harry out of  bed and haul him down by the ear, probably."

"Sure. Good luck."

He  wasn't sure he needed luck, but by the time he shrugged on the rest of  his clothes and got to Harry's house, Campbell had thought too much  about the whole situation. This was a new world, one they were going to  have to likely fight to survive in. Harry was going to need some tough  love, if he was gonna make it. Right? Maybe Allie made him feel good,  for a little bit, but Allie was also gaga over Will; in the end, she  would leave, and Harry would fall apart again. It wasn't something that  Harry could afford. It only made sense for Campbell to be hard on him,  didn't it? It was pretty clear Harry's mental health was going down the  pipes already. Once the booze and drugs were gone, how was Harry going  to survive? Maybe Campbell was being too harsh, trying to put their  friendship between Harry and Allie, but it was the only way to toughen  Harry up.

The point was proven when Harry answered the door,  looking like he'd gotten mowed over by a tractor. When he saw Campbell,  his eyes lit up, if only a little. "Hey. I didn't expect to see you."

"Surprise. Jesus christ, have you taken a shower since the party?"

"Uh..."

Campbell  stepped inside the house, shoving Harry towards the bathroom. "I'm not  talking to you while you smell like a garbage disposal. Go."

Harry  sighed, but did as he was told. When he came back out, his hair was  combed and still a little wet, and the asshole looked like some sort of  model that you'd see posing next to the ocean with some expensive,  organic wine or some damn thing. Campbell scowled and threw him an apple  and a bottle of water.

"What's this for?" Harry asked.

"Something for you to eat while we head to the church. Cassandra texted, she's calling for a meeting of some kind."

"Is that the only reason you're here?"

"No, but we can talk on the way. Get your shoes on."

They  could have taken Harry's car, but Campbell chose to walk. Fresh air  would do Harry a little good, and it gave them time to talk about  whatever it was Harry thought they needed to talk about. It was quiet  for a long while. Harry kept glancing over, but he just rubbed his neck  and kept his mouth shut.

"What's going on between us, Cam?"

Campbell  paused for a step at the sudden question. Fuck. Fuck, that was not the  conversation he was expecting. Time to play ignorant. "What are you  talking about? We had a spat. Whatever. There's nothing going on."

"Come  on, you know what I mean. You've got to." Harry looked at him again,  eyebrows knit together in worry. "First you hated Kelly..."

"Kelly wants me dropped into a volcano because I stole her pizza rolls in the 4th grade."

"...And now you're jealous of Allie."

"Okay, so why would I be jealous of Kelly and Allie?"

"You tell me."

Grabbing  Harry's shoulder, Campbell spun Harry around to face him. "What do you  want me to say, Harry? Huh?" He stepped closer, until he could feel  Harry's breath on his face, and then a little closer still. "That I want  you? Is that what you think this is?"

Harry swallowed hard. "Is that what this is?"

"It doesn't matter, either way."

"Cam."

"No,  just stop. Even if it were true, you had years to figure this out.  Years. But you slept around, and then you settled down with Kelly. Now,  you have Allie. I have Elle. Whatever could have happened here, it's not  happening now."

"I just..." Harry trailed off. Oh, Campbell had  hit a nerve. The hurt in Harry's eyes was almost enough to make Campbell  take it back. "I just want us to stay friends, okay? I don't want  anything to come between us."

"We're still friends. That's not going to change. Alright?"

"Whatever."

But  it wasn't whatever. Campbell could tell that from the way Harry pulled  away, moving like he was trying not to jostle some sort of wound. Well,  what was Campbell supposed to do? Harry might not have known specifics,  but he knew Campbell was a roller-coaster. He knew Campbell had trouble  with feelings. If he'd wanted something more out of their relationship,  he should have said something sooner. Why sugarcoat the truth?

They  had other people, and unless Kelly and Elle were interested in  polyamory, nothing was going to happen. It sucked, but it was true. It  still forced Campbell to look at those goddamn emotions, and that wasn't  something he'd counted on having to do any time soon. Of course Harry  was handsome. Most of the male-attracted population of the school  agreed, even if they hated him. And of course they knew each other well,  to the point that they could look at each other and know what the other  was thinking. That wasn't even mentioning all the times they'd flirted  under the pretense of a joke, and everything else remotely sexual that  had ever happened between them.

But did Campbell want to be with  Harry? Hadn't it all just been a little bit of a game? A phase? Some  weird hormonal thing? Harry hadn't ever really seemed interested in  guys, beyond Campbell. Maybe Harry was just confused. Campbell had  already accepted being a little bit bi, even if he'd only ever told  Harry. But Harry had never confessed anything like that to Campbell. Not  until now, and even then, he hadn't actually admitted anything.

The  rest of the trip was just as silent as the first part had been, thank  whatever higher powers existed. By the time they got to the church, they  were late; the entire church was packed, and Campbell couldn't even  really see Elle in the giant flock.

"There's practically no seats left," Harry mumbled. "Damn."

Campbell  shrugged, smiling a bit at Cassandra as she stood at the front of the  church. She certainly had stepped into the leader role. "She called, and  they came."

They found a seat, and Campbell listened as  Cassandra began to speak. It was hard to focus, though, what with Harry  hunched up and radiating irritation. Christ. He was already on edge, and  a quick glance around the room revealed he wasn't the only one.  Hopefully Cassandra was going to be careful. She was an expert on the  debate team, and knew politics well enough. She was the best leader they  could have. But... she wasn't popular, so much as infamous. They both  were. He knew better than anyone that she had to be careful.

And  at first, she was. Cassandra spoke of making an inventory of resources. A  good idea, but then she followed it up with the words food rationing.  Logical and another good idea, but Campbell could feel the tension in  the room growing. Communal eating earned a few groans, but it was the  sharing houses idea that shut the room down. Campbell felt a slight jab  of disappointment. He'd told Cassandra it would be a bad idea. Yes, it  would save resources if they were limited-- potentially-- but people  would grate on each other. Even friends who were stuck together against  their will could turn on each other. Strangers? Enemies? It was asking  for trouble.

She continued on. Work rotation lists, good. Sharing  the work load, good. A committee, excellent. There was a murmur of  excitement when Cassandra announced a committee on finding out how to  get home. That would be something to help keep people hopeful, for sure.  They'd put up with things much better if they thought it was temporary.  And, likely, they'd be used to the new way of things by the time the  geeks inevitably came to the conclusion that they were trapped.

"I think we should take a vote," Cassandra concluded with a smile. "All in favor, raise your hand."

A  large portion of people raised their hands right away. A few more went  up, slower. More uncertain. A few women hissed at their partners, and  another small group of hands went up. There were still plenty of  holdouts. Campbell watched Harry from the corner of his vision, waiting.  Harry didn't budge. A lot of people didn't budge.

Cassandra scanned the room. Her smile faded. "I don't think we can do this unless it's unanimous."

A  bad move, that. What was the point of putting it to vote, if those who  expressed dissent were going to be pressured into agreement? Wasn't a  majority of the vote good enough? If she could convince them... but it  didn't matter, it seemed, because those begrudging hands went up after a  long pause. Cassandra glanced towards Campbell, who in turn looked to  Harry. Harry stared back at him. Don't do it, that look said. Campbell  smiled and raised his hand. Gritting his teeth, Harry raised his, too.

When  the meeting was over, Harry cornered Campbell by the door. "What did  you do that for?" he seethed. "Those rules are bullshit."

"They're not bullshit. It's common fucking sense."

"Easy for you to say. No one's gonna want to share houses with you."

"Elle already is."

"Wait, what?"

Campbell  almost felt bad at the note of upset in Harry's voice. "I mean, you  were in bed with Allie, so maybe you didn't hear. She asked to stay at  my place for a few days. But honestly, with these new rules, I don't  think she'll be leaving again any time soon. We're both kinda high key  social rejects."

"I guess that makes sense, then." Harry studied  his hands. "I better get going. Lock up all the valuables before these  assholes move in and wreck everything." He stood, heading towards the  exit, but then paused. "Would it have made any difference, if I had said  something sooner? Would you have felt anything?"

"No."

A  lie, but Harry took it at face value. He shook his head and kept  walking. Campbell leaned back in the pew and sighed. Whatever was going  on in Harry's head, hopefully it would blow over now. Campbell wasn't  going to abandon Elle, and Harry needed to see his thing with Allie  through. Even if it ended-- and of course it would-- he wasn't going to  be the reason for it. Allie already loathed Campbell, and it wouldn't be  a good idea to make that whole thing worse.

Footsteps came  closer, and there was a whiff of jasmine in the air. "That bad, huh?"  Elle asked as she sat down next to him. "I see you managed to get Harry  down here."

"For all the good it did. This is all going to explode."

"I don't know. A lot of people seemed open to it."

"They  did. And they will be, for a while. But..." Campbell rubbed his face.  "Cassandra is a good leader. She's tough and she's fair. The issue is,  she's a total goddamn extraterrestrial when it comes to feelings. Give  her a puzzle and she can solve it, but this isn't just a puzzle. People  are going to get upset, and she isn't going to know how to fix that."

Elle rested her hand on his knee. "Maybe it'll be alright. Sometimes people can surprise you."

Campbell  wanted to argue, but he just smiled instead and placed his hand over  hers. "Yeah. I'm sure you're right. What are you gonna do about your  house, though, now that we're all getting sardined together?"

"Well..."  Tucking her hair behind an ear, Elle hesitated. "I've never even really  gone out for sleepovers or anything. The idea of living with someone  else is kind of terrifying. I thought maybe I could stay with you. I  know we're not serious or anything, but..."

"If you want to stay with me, you can. I'd be happy to have you there."

"Yeah?"

He  gave her hand a little squeeze. "I seriously like you, regardless of  whatever this is or where it's going. And like I said, I think maybe I  do need someone there with me. Keep me from staying in my head too  much."

Elle smiled, and Campbell felt that little flutter of  warmth reserved especially for her. They headed back to her house, and  she packed up the rest of her things. The rest of the day was spent  moving; it was an interesting feeling, seeing her possessions slowly  replace the traces of his parents. For the first time, the house started  to lose that cold, hostile chokehold it always had whenever he walked  through the door. It was inviting, instead. Comfortable.

They  had some cheese pizza rolls and a couple beers, the closest thing they  could get to the American moving-in tradition. Elle still slept in the  other room, but Campbell didn't care.

Someone else there, someone who seemed to want to be around him. Someone safe to love. That was good enough.

[binkywinky]

hi! Comics rec anon here! to answer your question, I'm not entirely new to comics, have read a few but not enough to say I have a specific type. The first series I read was all the jessica jones comics which I really liked, also the miles morales series which i enjoyed and the spidergwen series which was cute but the art was kinda annoying lol. i also like a couple of dc ones like mister miracle. so i think i prefer a general rec from you since the comics world is so big. thanks in advance!

Got it. Hmm… let’s see. It’s probably easiest to break it down by publisher then. I’ll try to give a mix of ongoing, finished, and “classic” stories. 

Fair warning, I read a lot of comics (probably about 60 per month, and that’s not including manga), so even though this may feel like a long list, it’s short for me.

Marvel

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man - Relatively new series, and it’s been fantastic so far. Great art, and a bit more grounded than the Amazing Spider-Man run (which is also great). Stellar art, too.

Miles Morales: Spider-Man - A little YA-ish at times, but overall enjoyable. You get to see a lot more of Miles’ personality in this one, which is always fun.

Superior Spider-Man - Because nothing is more fun than seeing a semi-reformed Otto Octavius try to be a hero.

Captain Marvel - Kelly Thompson does a phenomenal job with this series. She has a great hold of Carol’s voice. Would highly recommend Kelly Sue Deconnick and Margaret Stohl’s previous runs to give context (Captain Marvel 2012-2017, Mighty Captain Marvel, and The Life of Captain Marvel).

Jessica Jones - Not sure if you’ve read Kelly Thompson’s recent run or just Bendis’, but hers is definitely worth a read.

Avengers (2019) - actually a solid run. I would check this out if you’re more into crossover, large-scale storytelling. They’re in the middle of War of the Realms, though… so maybe wait until like August or September?

Immortal Hulk, Daredevil, and X-23 - also good. I read them off and on (not really my fave characters to read on their own, I enjoy them in ensembles), but the stories are solid.

Rogue & Gambit - mini series that I absolutely love by Kelly Thompson (she does great character work) that came out last year. Mr. & Mrs. X is a follow-up to it and also tons of fun (nearing its end as well). 

Runaways - I fell off of this when Brian K. Vaughn left, but I can say up through his run ended is well worth the read.

As far as classic stories, Infinity Gauntlet, The Dark Phoenix Saga, X-Men: Age of Apocalypse, Secret Invasion, and Secret Wars would be my first recommendations.

I would’ve recommended Spider-Gwen: Ghost Spider, but maybe wait on that. It’s about to end soon and transition to just Ghost Spider (where she leaves Earth-65 and comes to Earth-616 where Peter and Miles are). Same for X-Men. I’m currently reading Uncanny, but X-Men is about to be overhauled soon. So probably hold on that front.

DC/Vertigo

Honestly, not the biggest DC fan (I lean more towards Vertigo actually), but there are a few that I enjoy.

Action Comics (starting at #1000) - I am not a Superman fan, but I enjoy this series, which says a lot. I enjoy what Bendis is doing with him in this run.

Naomi - a new series, also by Bendis, following the story of a young Black girl who is investigating the circumstances around her adoption. Don’t want to give too much away, but probably my fave DC run at the moment. And Jamal Campbell’s art is fucking gorgeous.

Dial H for Hero - it’s fun. It’s weird. Not for everyone, but maybe give it a shot.

The Flash and Batman, New 52 runs - New 52 gets shit from fans a lot, but I thought these runs were awesome. Very good story-telling.

Dark Nights: Metal event - Probably one of the best things DC did in a long time. It’s a massive event that pretty much reworked the DC universe and all the characters. Enjoyed it immensely.

Heroes in Crisis - this miniseries ended very recently. It’s a story focused on a major event that happens at Sanctuary, a rehab for superheroes suffering from mental health issues (e.g. PTSD after doing something that nearly killed them). Not your usual superhero story, which I liked.

American Carnage - very gritty story focused on a white-passing Black man who infiltrates a white supremacist organization. It’s really fucking good.

High Level - I picked this book up randomly because the cover looked cool. I’ve been reading it ever since. I would say it’s weird sci-fi/fantasy/cyberpunk adventure. A little strong on the language, but very interesting story and great artwork.

Birds of Prey - awesome series with the DC women. A little shaky sometimes, but Gail Simone does really good character work. Her run is probably the only one I’d bother reading.

Deathbed - miniseries by Vertigo that ended maybe a year ago. It’s so bizarre and hilarious and out there. I loved it.

Batwoman (J.H. Williams run) and Batwoman: Rebirth - Kate Kane, my favorite lesbian superhero. Williams did a great job in his run (and the art is to die for). Don’t read the back half, they change writers and it’s a goddamn mess. But then Marguerite Bennett (a queer woman) picked it up in Rebirth, and it got awesome again. Also, shout-out to Greg Rucka for officially making her queerness canon in 52.

Wonder Woman - Wonder Woman’s my fave of DC main characters (along with Martian Manhunter and Wally West I & II), and my favorite run for her is Greg Rucka’s. He does a surprisingly good job of writing women. The run is over at the moment, but I’d check it out. Good stuff there.

For classic stories, Kingdom Come, Watchmen, Flashpoint (precursor to New 52), and Neil Gaiman’s Sandman are some of my faves.

Image

Image is probably what I read the most. Definitely has the most diverse pool of comics to choose from.

Saga - My favorite comic series of all-time. I’ve gotten so many people to read this and they love it. It’s weird - really weird, actually - but the storytelling is phenomenal. And it’s on hiatus right now, so plenty of time to get caught up.

Ice Cream Man - This series is so fucking weird, but I love it. It’s sorta like… Tales from the Crypt? Different stories (mostly horror) that all feature this demon ice cream man.

The Weatherman - This series is such a goddamn delight. I don’t want to ruin the plot but just… yeah. Read the first issue and it just goes crazy from there.

Man-Eaters - Sort of a niche story. Basically, this takes place in a society where when women get their cycle, they turn into giant cats and maul men, so they’ve given them pills to keep them from menstruating. Sounds weird? Wait until you read it. Probably a highlight series of the year for me. 

Black Science - You might not like the art in this one, but maybe give it a shot? These scientists are trying to solve the problem of limited resources on Earth by hopping across dimensions for new ones (infinite dimensions, infinite resources). Only problem is, their machine got damaged so now they hop uncontrollably to whatever dimension it chooses for however long it decides. It’s a wild ride.

Middlewest - An interesting take on parent/child relationships and how the consequences of abuse, anger, and depression can manifest in dangerous ways. Sounds more bleak than it is - the story actually has quite a bit of humor.

Excellence - Very new series, but with a PoC lead, about PoCs, with mostly PoC creators. A story about a secret society of Black magicians and a son whose next in line to take on the mantle, and it’s pretty fucking cool. Issue 2 comes out this week - check it out!

The Walking Dead - I don’t think I have to explain this one, do I? Zombies.

Lazarus and Lazarus: Risen - Sci-fi story set in a dystopian society where the world is ruled by like 15 or so families, and they each have a Lazarus to fight for them. This is told from the perspective of the Carlyle family’s Lazarus, Forever. 

Die - If Dungeons & Dragons and Jumanji had a baby, it would be this book. Sounds weird, but once you read it, you’ll find the description to be accurate.

Anything from Brian K. Vaughn - I have yet to read something from Brian K. Vaughn that I don’t like. Saga, Paper Girls, Y: The Last Man, Runaways, Barrier… his shit’s always good.

Independents / Not Marvel, DC, or Image

Some of these are nostalgia-based, so fair warning.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BOOM Studios) - very new series that’s out. Great art. If you were a fan of the show, I think you’ll like it. It’s a re-imagining of sorts. There’s also an Angel series that just started.

Nancy Drew (Dynamite) - Listen… I could not stand Nancy Drew as a kid. Never got into it and thought it was boring as hell. But I really loved this miniseries (another Kelly Thompson run). It’s maybe 5 issues?

Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers and Go Go Power Rangers (BOOM Studios) - Honest to God, if you had told me 3 years ago one of my fave comics would be a Power Rangers one, I would have laughed in your face. Both of these series are really good and provide the continuity, nuance, and characterization the show lacked. Fan of the show or not, I’d say it’s worth checking out if you enjoy the teenage superhero genre. Also, just some really amazing art and world-building.

Anything from Jinxworld - This is Bendis’ own publishing company. He’s put out Cover, Pearl, Scarlet, and United States vs. Murder, Inc. All of them are really good.

Umbrella Academy (Dark Horse) - This is the series the Netflix show is based off of. Right now, they’re doing Hotel Oblivion in the comics, but start with Apocalypse Suite and Dallas.

So, there you go anon. There are FAR more I would recommend, but I tried to give a good range of books for you to choose from without (hopefully) overwhelming you. And if you have any questions, I’m more than happy to talk about any of them.

[princessmtt]

no proper coping mechanisms we shove all our problems onto our ocs and die like men.

(vent writing underneath hoo boy)

“Okay, I think...” There a small click, and the car's overhead lights turned on. Corinne's face appeared fully on the screen of her camera, and despite the situation, she smiled a little out of relief.

“Oh, awesome. That's working at least.” There was another moment of her fumbling with the camera, and with a small beep, it started to record.

“...Hm. I really should've thought about what to say first.” It was different when you were talking to yourself on the road, but now that her words had a bit of staying power, Corinne was at a loss of finding them. Typical. But she'd just have to wing it, like most things in life.

She sat straight, took a deep breath, and began.

“So, uh... my name is Corinne Salucci. I'm twenty-three years old, and I live in Los Angeles. Currently, it's... about 1 in the morning, and I'm at the Ebott National Park campsite, near the Transverse Ranges. I rented a lot, but since it is stupid late and no one would notice, I drove out a little farther into the woods. It took me about a day to get out here, or at least I made sure it did, and I'm saying all this because I'm sure I left a trail somewhere and when you find my car I want the facts to be as straight as can be. The last thing I need is people is freaking my parents out with fake stories on why I ran away from home.”

There was a pause as Corinne stared herself down in the view finder. She'd been talking fine for the moment, but the true impact of what she'd done finally dawned on her once she had said it. Her shoulders dropped, and she slumped back into the driver's seat.

“Holy shit.” She she spoke quietly after a long silence, head in her hands. “I ran away from home.”

Silence filled the car again, only disrupted by Corinne's heavy breathing, and strong-willed attempts not to cry. But she bit her lip, and straightened herself out once more. She'd cried enough the night before, and she wasn't about to leave a last will and testimony in tears.

“...yeah, yeah I did that. Whoooo, boy.”

It seemed less shocking, now that she'd had a chance to register it.

“I... should be honest here. Coming out here was... it was always something I kinda had planned. And not like... it wasn't like it was something I ever really planned on doing. It was just, y'know... just in case.”

In case of what? What would you even do when you came here? What could a coward like you ever do?

“I never thought I'd actually come here. But they've always said that people who climb up Mount Ebott never come back down, and... to that credit, nobody on record ever has. And I don't really know why, like, if they just go up to kill themselves or they just poof or whatever, but the idea of just... getting up and vanishing, it was... it's always been pretty tempting. If I'm gonna be honest here.”

And you have to be. This is the one time you have to be honest. Maybe if you were braver it could have been more.

“It's not as though I want to die. I just really don't want to be here anymore. And I don't really think anyone else here does either.”

Another pause. Corinne bit her lip.

“...the night before I went missing, I had a fight with my friend Sybil. About... about my ex-girlfriend. Which, honestly, isn't anything new, and Mom, Dad, I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys about it, I had my reasons for keeping it a secret. I don't think you would have been upset or anything, but it... you two weren't the ones I was scared to talk to.”

Just in case, Corinne paused and looked over her shoulder. There was always a chance someone who didn't want to hear would hear, one way or another. Taking precautions when she had to speak openly were a must.

“She... Helena and I didn't meet at a great time, and I can see that now. We were both pretty screwed up at the time, and the relationship probably wouldn't have lasted even if it had gone well. I'm okay with that. But it's... the fact of the matter is, it did get bad. For me. It got... well, I don't know how else to say it, but it was abusive. Emotionally, and... sexually, I think. If a long distance relationship can be called that, but I mean... yeah. That happened. Again, sorry Mom and Dad. ...And Gabe, too. I tried hinting it to you a lot, but I dunno if you ever picked up on it. If you ever see this, I wrote a whole list of things that happened while we were dating down, it's in my desk back home.”

More breadcrumbs for the trail. Something to explain the mystery no one tried to solve.

“Anyway, the fight. See... Sybil didn't like me dating Helena. And not even because she was a girl, I just don't think she liked the idea of me dating anybody. Sybil, don't deny it, I know you didn't. And... that's fine. It's fine now. I get it. You told me not to talk about it, so I didn't. I didn't tell you anything, and I stopped mentioning her when you told me it made you uncomfortable. I kept it to myself, and we... we were cool. We were okay for a long time, I think.”

You weren't okay. You'd never be okay to her.

“But the fight... I just don't get why you were mad. You told me not to talk to you about her! You told me not to talk when things were good! Why would you have ever wanted to know when things were bad, Syb? It doesn't work like that! You don't get to just... suddenly become involved after, what? Four, five years of refusing to know? And you don't get to be mad that I didn't say anything, and you definitely don't get to...!”

“How should I know? You never trusted me! For all I know you probably deserved what she did!”

“...Sybil, look. I know I'm not the kind of person you wanted me to be. Believe me, I tried to be. And I don't really like who I am, either. The real me isn't any good to anybody but it's too late to trade her for somebody else. At this point, it'd just be better if I was gone.”

Corinne's mouth had long since gone dry, and tears pricked at her eyes. But still, she did not cry.

“I don't think... no, I shouldn't say I won't be missed much. Mom, and Dad, and Gabe, and... maybe you too, Syb, I dunno. You and everybody else will probably miss me, at least for a little while. But, you guys don't really need me. You know that. The world's still gonna turn, and the sun's still gonna come up in the morning, whether or not I'm here. So if I duck out now, it's probably for the best.”

Best for who? Best for them? Or best for you?

“I wasn't totally sure about this at first. For a minute I thought about ducking into Canada and changing my name, but then I figured I'd probably be found a lot faster that way. Border policies, and all that. But now that I'm here, I think this is the right choice after all. If I gotta die in the end, I may as well be proactive about it. At least one part of me is gotta be some kind of use.”

Corinne placed a hand over her chest, over her heart, and pondered.

“I remember, way back in the day, in the little bits we learned about monster history in school, they talked about souls, and how to figure out what kind of soul yours was. I never really did get the point of mine. Having something like knowledge, or bravery, hell, even integrity would've been helpful, but honestly, the fuck am I supposed to do with being really patient? Patience doesn't help with anything. It just makes you passive. Makes you wait for things that don't come.”

Acceptance. Understanding. Apologies.

“I don't... I'm tired of waiting for change. I have to make it myself. And if there's a chance it can make a change for somebody else, too, I'll do it. It's... I'm not gonna lie, it feels a little perverse, going about it like this? But it's not like humans use souls for anything. I think it evens out. Maybe. Maybe I'm just trying to justify this too hard, I dunno. But I can't go back now. Whether I'm dead tonight or not I'm not going back.”

It sounded so surreal, that. I'm not going back. So surreal, Corinne hadn't recognized her own voice, but that really solidified it. Tonight, she'd be gone, and the world would go on, as per usual. One less voice in a reality full of millions. The ripple her absence would make wouldn't make a dent in the ocean.

It was lonely, thinking about it like that. But she'd had enough time to ponder over the poetics of it on the drive over. Time was ticking now, before sunrise.

“...it's getting closer to 2. I should wrap this up. I think I explained everything, though.” Sunrise wouldn't be for a while yet, and she had to get moving while it was dark. “Mom, Dad, I love you guys. I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I hope you can forgive me one day. Gabe, you were great at dancing before we met, and you're always gonna be great, whether or not I'm there. You don't need me being there to run everything smoothly. You're a great leader. You can do it. Sybil...”

She swallowed.

“...look, maybe you were right. Maybe if I'd just trusted you, none of this would have happened. And I'm sorry. At least once I'm gone, you have one less thing to stress about in life, right?”

Right. One less “thing”.

“It... yeah. It's time to stop this now.” Corinne's image in the viewfinder jumped and faltered as she lifted the camera up. “I gotta start walking now, to... somewhere. Whoever finds this, please turn it into the park officials. I'm leaving my camera with my ID, to make life easier. So... yeah. That'll do it then.”

Corinne broke away from the camera, and glanced out into the darkness of the woods around her. Her eyes betrayed a look of sadness, and acceptance. It was time to go.

“...Make good choices, kids.” She placed her hand over the camera, and the recording went dark.

[dcnativegal]

Compulsion & Identity

Ruminations of a Certified Alcohol & Drug Counselor--Intern

I’m sitting in one of the group therapy sessions with clients who have kept sober from a variety of substances for months or perhaps only days. They pee into a cup or suck on a saliva stick to prove their sobriety to me and their probation officers. They are biding their time and showing up and jumping through hoops that include community service, visits to Treatment Court, and paying off probation fines. Each one of them has harrowing stories. I have so much respect for them. Even when I know for sure they are flat out lying.

I’m trying to understand what it’s like, mentally, emotionally, and socially as they maneuver through their lives and all their important relationships as a sober person. We talk about it. One person admitted, I still don’t know who I am, sober.  I know I was funnier when I was high…

I’m learning all about “Substance use disorder” which is the newest term. (No longer abuse, and less use of the term ‘addiction.’) I have a stack of books with titles like “Buzzed” and “Uppers and Downers.” I remember from my early social work training that there is a stunting of brain maturation when a person starts using a substance regularly. Each of these people starting using as young teenagers. The growing human learns to navigate through life with the help of the mellowing effects of pot, the mania and energy of meth, the disinhibitions of alcohol. There are supremely stupid choices that are made under the influences.  They don’t know how to deal with frustration, with a broken heart, with the moments included under the umbrella: ‘shit happens.’

I don’t know anyone who deals with ‘shit happens’ perfectly.  Well, maybe the Dalai Lama, and the late great Maya Angelou.

My personal drugs of choice are carbs and yarn. Carbs may kill me in the end. I’ve developed pancreatitis, in large part because it’s a side effect of an injectable drug that worked well for me for a couple of years. The other part of why is, simply, gluttony. (Noun. Habitual greed or excess in eating. Ouch. Literally.) My side started hurting in December, and I self-diagnosed kidney stones, so upped the liquids. Didn’t get into see my family nurse practitioner until mid-January. NOT kidney stones but pancreatitis. What the…?  Clear liquids for me. Who knew that there are dozens of kinds of broth.  Although the pain did not disappear, it lessened, and the lipase and other lab values went down to normal when I stuck to liquids. When I eat solids again, the pain and labs worsen. So I’ve been off and on solid food for a while. Every one to two weeks, I give a couple of vials of blood and 3 hours later, my nurse scolds me. Kinda like peeing into a cup, or sucking a saliva test strip. Clean UA? Good labs? It depends on behavior.

Humbling.

A client ‘bangs’ (injects) meth. I indulge in a cookie, or three. Not equivalent, exactly. But pancreatitis is dangerous. Meth is, too.

When ‘shit happens’ to me, which includes simply a bad day, I realized some time ago that I have  a sense of entitlement, of somehow ‘deserving’ the special treat of new yarn, or a Peppermint Patty. Because…. Insert self justification here….  I can imagine that some of the same justification goes on in the mind of people who use meth or pot or beer compulsively.  “I’ve been good… It was a shitty day… Fuck you, bossy bitch, I’m going out… “  As I stand in the checkout line at Safeway, I’m like, I’m tired, just one Peppermint Patty won’t kill me…

Dark chocolate, ice cream, cookies. I’ve heard alcoholics say that if there’s alcohol in the house, it calls to them. Same for me with chocolate. Valerie hides it. At the moment, I think we are totally out. Which is good. (I found her stash. ‘Bye, ‘bye stash. I am a gluttonous theif.)  I’ve been keeping a pile of tiny chocolates in my office for my clients. I give up. They’re all gone now. I couldn’t resist them. I’ll put stress balls in the box that held the mini-snickers and Twix. The Twix were very popular. I was especially fond of the mini-Milky Ways with dark chocolate. Val discovered Russell Stover’s sugar free peppermint patties. Oh. My. God. They are now on the banned list, even though they are sugar free. Even after I start feeling sick, I can eat 10 at a sitting. Like the rat hitting the cocaine water until he dies.

I knew someone who had a compulsion to use pornography. The idea would take root and next thing, that person would be walking into a strip club. Feeling disgusted later, dirty and depressed, the urge would diminish for a while, until the next time. My basic feeling about this whole arena is: tip the sex worker very well and be respectful. But, the compulsion, if it harms relationships with real live humans outside the club, is a problem. Not to mention how porn distorts what men think women actually enjoy.

Cravings.

Chocolate or yarn doesn’t HAVE to be a problem, but for me it is. Everything in moderation, except for me with sugar or yarn. I can ignore a wine bottle. No interest in illegal drugs. But keep sugar away from me. And no more yarn… hm… until I hit the new Willows store in Christmas Valley again.  Seed planted, insert rationalization: I’m supporting an independent local business! (I think this is called ‘stinkin’ thinking’. )

What is your ‘self medication’ of choice, dear reader?

Weed, which seems to be the drug of choice for teens in Lake County is a mixed bag. Pun intended. It made me paranoid and more anxious than I already was when I used it in college. It’s legal in some states but federally illegal. The medical marijuana card is a great thing for those who need it. I’ve seen the videos with people who have Parkinson’s go from violent tremors to graceful movement. For young people, though, I’ve seen it among my kids’ friends, how all motivation seems to vanish. It is the slacker’s drug of choice. I have teenaged clients who are mandated to see me because of weed, and they pee into a cup. I want for them every ounce of motivation to get them out of poverty and do well in school, find a trade, make a better living than their parents.

Our group discussion gave me a chance to revisit my own struggles with identity, as well as my own compulsive behavior.  Perhaps there is a parallel between my deep discovery in my early 40s that I am really and truly gay and my clients’ growing familiarity with their sober selves. For me, it was 2003. My husband had given me permission to figure out whether or not I was gay, bi, whatever. He’d had a serious heart attack, and earnestly pointed out that life is short. What a gift. What insanity.  This journey led to the end of our marriage, which was a hard and painful process but also, to lives lived with authenticity. Thank goddess for therapists. The kids survived and thrived, and he has been with a lovely, gifted, hilarious and STRAIGHT woman for something like 10 years. I have been with the cowhand for nearly 6.

What made that part of my history relevant, perhaps, to the path of the newly sober, is that I had to regroup my identity. As my children’s father put it, I’d changed teams. Not only was I on a different team, that team had a culture, a lingo, a look and feel that was perceptible by something called ‘gaydar’ which I had the beginnings of but really needed to step up. I rented every classic lesbian movie I could find, and some of them were terrible, but all of them taught me something. As a feminine-appearing gay woman, I needed to learn about femmes and femme culture since I am so not a butch. I read Joan Nestle, founder of the Lesbian Herstory Archives, and the hilarious Leslea Newman who wrote, ‘Out of the Closet with Nothing to Wear’, and the classic, “Heather has two Mommies.” I watched lesbians, especially in lesbian spaces. I learned about my own body, my own range of gender expression.

I moved to the Oregon Outback to be with my sweetie full time instead of half the year, and out here, I miss gay space (like a gay bar, community center, or Pride event), other gay people, any tiny glimpse of a gender bending queer sensibility.

We all feel this way, in each of our identities. Jewish people feel more comfortable when surrounded by other Jews. Women feel relaxed when there are no men present, and vice versa. Alcoholics can avoid the stigma when they are with other alcoholics. Ranchers enjoy the company of other ranchers.

Just this past week I met, FINALLY, another gay person who lives in Lake County. This person is married, and so now I know there are FOUR GAY PEOPLE IN LAKE COUNTY.  We’ll have a tiny gay pride parade in our living room come June, with a very large rainbow flag.

For my newly sober clients, it’s an adventure to learn who they are with their families, with their wives or husbands or girlfriends or boyfriends, with their employers, at their church. To say to their children, “yes, I have messed up, and I’m getting it together. No need to be sarcastic with me. I am still your parent.” They seek out the company of others in recovery to survive. There are several twelve step meetings in the county, thank goodness.  Since all of my clients started using in their early teens, there is a lot of growing up to do, all the while they have very real and heavy adult responsibility. It’s a lot to manage, in a punitive and financially strapped environment.  

For the sober, a hot bath has to take the place of a beer, or a bowl. All of those strong emotions cannot be mediated by a substance. Frustration? Anger? Sadness? How does one deal with those without an upper or a downer?  And if I have a rough day, I do not have to buy a Peppermint Patty.

I seek to relate to them and their stories, even while I immerse myself in online courses about substance use disorder. It’s a bit narcissistic, I know, to search for my own parallel struggle to humanize theirs. But as Anne Lamott once so wisely said, I am the turd around which the world revolves.

On New Year’s Eve, I went to Soul Collage at Toni’s house in Paisley, and made a New Year’s mandala (which I shared a picture of, two posts ago.)  In the center is a primate surrounded by bananas, and around the primate were examples of embodiment, words of encouragement, and healthy foods. It was shortly into 2017 that I was diagnosed with pancreatitis. I am now FORCED by my side pain and bad labs to get my eating act together, out of the realm of gluttony. Be careful what you wish for.

I went to Soul Collage again recently, and created two cards to help me tell the story of my clients, and also my own story. They depict the journey from serious faces to happy faces, with stops at

·        Know thine enemy and maybe befriend them, (the man and the skunk, the user and the dealer, the lesbian and the Trumpette)

·        Find your people and cuddle up to them to rest (like a pile of kittens)

·        Be creative in all things, with colored pencils or your new sense of who you can be now

·        Get used to feeling your feelings including the negative ones. They will not kill you. Smoking or ‘banging’ them away is procrastination. So are Peppermint Patties.

·        Do the work. No way to short cut the work. Carry the water that needs carrying and don’t be a whiney child about it. I know it’s a bitch to be a grownup and exercise self-control when other people are allowed to be such pains in the asses!!! Remember: sometimes, I AM THAT BITCH.

·        Allow time for joy, for running free, for deeply enjoying pleasure that doesn’t carry guilt. Find that joy if it’s new to you, the guilt-free kind! (Salad? Sigh. Knitting with the yarn I already own? YES.)

·        Make a home within yourself if not in the outside world. Make that home cozy and full of love. Beautiful and familiar. Full of life and healing. (I’m ALWAYS working at this, the finding and maintenance of home…)

The journey to sobriety, to a whole and generous life, is not a straight line, more like a circle or a spiral, hopefully forward. All the same, as Proust said,

The real voyage of discovery consists in not seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.