#to check out: burn out 2017

[nasa]

A Geminid meteor streaks across the sky as the Soyuz TMA-19M spacecraft is rolled out by train to the launch pad at the Baikonur Cosmodrome on Sunday, Dec. 13, 2015, in Kazakhstan. Credit: NASA/Joel Kowsky

Make a Wish! How to See the Geminid Meteor Shower

Every December, we have a chance to see one of our favorite meteor showers – the Geminids. To help you prepare, we’ve answered some of your most commonly asked questions. Happy viewing, stargazers!

These radar images of near-Earth object 3200 Phaethon were generated by astronomers at the National Science Foundation's Arecibo Observatory on Dec. 17, 2017. Observations of Phaethon were conducted at Arecibo from Dec. 15 through 19, 2017. At time of closest approach on Dec. 16 at 3 p.m. PST (6 p.m. EST, 2300 UTC), the asteroid was about 6.4 million miles (10.3 million kilometers) away, or about 27 times the distance from Earth to the Moon. Credit: Arecibo Observatory/NASA/NSF

What are the Geminids?

The Geminids are caused by debris from a celestial object known as 3200 Phaethon striking Earth’s atmosphere. Phaethon’s origin is the subject of some debate. Some astronomers consider it to be an extinct comet, based on observations showing some small amount of material leaving its surface. Others argue that it has to be an asteroid because of its orbit and its similarity to the main-belt asteroid Pallas.

All meteors appear to come from the same place in the sky, which is called the radiant. The Geminids appear to radiate from a point in the constellation Gemini, hence the name “Geminids.” The graphic shows the radiants of 388 meteors with speeds of 35 km/s observed by the NASA Fireball Network in December 2020. All the radiants are in Gemini, which means they belong to the Geminid shower. Credit: NASA

Why are they called the Geminids?

All meteors associated with a shower have similar orbits, and they all appear to come from the same place in the sky, which is called the radiant. The Geminids appear to radiate from a point in the constellation Gemini, hence the name “Geminids.”

A Geminid streaks across the sky in this photo from December 2019. Credit: NASA

When is the best time to view them?

The Geminid meteor shower is active for much of December, but the peak will occur during the night of Dec. 13 into the morning of Dec. 14, 2023. Meteor rates in rural areas can be upwards of one per minute this year with minimal moonlight to interfere.

What do I need to see them?

As with all meteor showers, all you need is a clear sky, darkness, a bit of patience, and perhaps warm outerwear and blankets for this one. You don’t need to look in any particular direction, as meteors can generally be seen all over the sky. If you want to take photographs, check out these helpful tips.

An infographic based on 2019’s meteor camera data for the Geminids. Credit: NASA

Do you have any advice to help me see the Geminids better?

Find the darkest place you can and give your eyes about 30 minutes to adapt to the dark. Avoid looking at your cell phone, as it will disrupt your night vision. Lie flat on your back and look straight up, taking in as much sky as possible.

A Geminid streaks across the sky in this photo from December 2011. Credit: NASA

What will the meteors look like?

According to Bill Cooke, lead for the Meteoroid Environment Office at NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama, “Most meteors appear to be colorless or white, however the Geminids appear with a greenish hue. They’re pretty meteors!” Depending on the meteor’s chemical composition, the meteor will emit different colors when burned in the Earth’s atmosphere. Oxygen, magnesium, and nickel usually produce green.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[identityarchitect]

[18/12 version; check notes to see if theres an updated version]

quick summary:

- newt schottelkotte posts an article about RQ mismanagement & exploitation (https://medium.com/@newtschott/whos-afraid-of-alex-j-newall-ae3a67f3a5e1)

- the first version of the article didn't note that newt is a marketing director at fable and folly, another podcasting network; this has now been edited in

- they cite approximately three sources in total, mostly coming back to unverifiable anonymous RQ affiliates (ex employees, people who were offered a position, etc). the other two sources are a tweet from RQ specifically about the official discord, and a line in the beginning stating that "The information presented in this article is not only taken from  interviews with my sources, but publicly available data that I was able  to find and access.". there is no further clarification of what data, where it came from, etc, and the only time a source is linked or references is the aforementioned tweet from RQ.

ETA: this is false! there are multiple sources on multiple different things.

- (https://rustyquill.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Operations-Update-2020-PUBLIC-RELEASE-1.pdf) this RQ operations update was used to source two quotes on RQ's payment structure. it's worth noting that the payments listed in the article are all above both the uk minimum wage and (with the exclusion of the £11 figure) the national living wage (https://www.gov.uk/national-minimum-wage-rates, https://www.livingwage.org.uk/calculation)

- (https://twitter.com/TheRustyQuill/status/1438175815615791111?s=20&t=m1Z2vI0Fmpvq3gVt72gIvQ) this rq tweet was used to source a screenshot from rq's statement about the discord.

- (https://twitter.com/TheRustyQuill/status/1408001969218859008?s=20&t=ngBXzvyzl4PJY9XpOL7DjA) this rq thread was used to source a screenshot from rq about the transcripts.

- there is a relevant link to the unofficial fan transcripts, although i personally wouldn't necessarily call this a source.

- (https://medium.com/acast/how-to-go-from-0-to-millions-growth-strategies-for-fiction-podcasters-fde8d6dc0cb5) this callum dougherty interview was used to source a quote from callum dougherty about TMA's success.

- the interview is misquoted. newt's article quotes:

"Believe it or not, Magnus was something of a hit right out the gate.  Comparative to I guess what would be considered a popular audio-drama  podcast now. It found an audience quite quickly… To borrow a phrase from  Alex Newall [Rusty Quill CEO and founder], I’d also mention that  nothing at Rusty Quill — despite what it might seem — has ever happened  by accident. And the factor that I would consider — and this may be my  own ego — is the show began to grow really dramatically because this was  the point that I came in."

- this misses out a relevant paragraph, reading

"Though  what I would certainly say is that it was in 2019 that the show began  to grow, and it went on what I would describe as a 10-month journey from  being considered a very popular podcast, to the most popular fiction  podcast in the world. That was a line of growth that looked pretty much  like a straight line upwards, where we were finding month-on-month  listenership doubling at a point. Every single month you could see it —  there were hundreds of thousands, now there was a million this month,  and it would go in that direction." (emphasis my own)

- newt's article goes on to state

"As someone who engaged in the fandom side of audio drama for a long time, including the period of Magnus’ rise to popularity to its finale, I remember things quite differently. TMA  wasn’t nearly the smash hit Dougherty describes until about 2019, when  the season four finale saw the consummation of Jon and Martin’s  slow-burn enemies-to-lovers storyline. Until that point, I had never  heard of TMA." (emphasis my own).

- it's also worth noting that newt's article didn't include the typical ellipses in square brackets to indicate missing text from a quote - it simply has an ellipses, which makes it seem that dougherty trailed off and then continued.

- at the end of the article, there are multiple links to social media accounts of people who may provide a list of laid off employees, intended for those looking to hire ex-RQ employees

- the rest of the claims made are either unsourced or from newt's anonymous sources.

- RUSTY QUILL HAVE RESPONDED: https://rustyquill.com/2022/12/13/public-response-to-an-opinion-piece/

- FABLE AND FOLLY HAVE ALSO RESPONDED: https://fableandfolly.com/2022/12/15/our-statement-on-the-article/

- rq has posted crew testimonials: https://rustyquill.com/crew-testimonials/

- tal, one of the editors, not affiliated w/ f&f, says this isn't a marketing thing, was run past two editors and multiple lawyers

- there's some truth in the article, mostly a lot of plausible but unverifiable things, and some plain misinformation / bad faith readings [i.e; article states that "there’s a very good chance that the list on Kickstarter of stretch goal guest writers may be the totality of the people in the audio fiction indie world that have still not had an experience with Rusty Quill." this is provably false; many of the guest writers have RQ podcasts or have interacted with RQ before, although it may be intended to mean bad experiences rather than simply an experience]

- ben meredith retweeted the article w/o comment; not sure what he's agreeing with. he also liked a tweet reading "Alright, read the thing. I’m terribly sorry for everyone who has been dealt with so badly by Rusty Quill - and I can only imagine the distress that must have incited this action. I hope these concerns are taken seriously, and that these issues are resolved swiftly.“ (https://twitter.com/GejWatts/status/1602420853630697475)

- ben meredith has now un-retweeted the article, although he hasn’t unliked the tweet about it

- malevolent podcast's official twitter posted

"I don't know much but I will say that if you decide to stop listening to my show; a show I work so very hard on, because of an article that presumptively and poorly attempts to speak for me, then I think you're hurting the thing you intend to be helping." (https://twitter.com/MalevolentCast/status/1602441871992782849?s=20&t=Z_86aECzgsdU9OgtfoiU6g)

- "harlan guthrie [creator of malevolent], quoted above, spoke on the topic in his discord server, invictus. i'm nor comfortable posting screencaps of his words, which were not intended as a public statement, without permission, but the highlights include: "The timing, authorship, and intent of this article doesn't sit well with me." "Overall, this isn't a watergate, neither is it an expose of a dangerous company, it's akin to a glassdoor report with half truths. My experience with RQ has been absolutely fine across the board." "The contract is in no way misleading nor manipulative the way the article would make it seem (no moreso than any other contract)"" (via orchidbreezefc on tumblr; i am not personally in this discord)

- malevolent podcast’s tumblr also posted this:

https://www.tumblr.com/malevolentcast/703493906802868224/you-probably-already-know-about-this-but-an

- the creator(? correct if wrong) of The Town Whispers and Tiny Terrors tweeted:

"What do I say here? I work day and night on @/TheTownWhispers & @/tinyterrorspod. I personally create, fund, produce, and direct my shows. What a shame to see someone speak on behalf of what I and others have built for years at our own expense dominate the conversation. No one reached out to me about "the article" ahead of time, no one asked me if I consented to be spoken for, I don't appreciate people victimizing me & weaponizing it for personal gain, & I don't appreciate that it's being passed off as a benevolent act of courage on my behalf." (https://twitter.com/ColeWeev/status/1602447361045065728?s=20&t=aAf1T5fen0FzXuAAllevLA)

- woe.begone's official twitter tweeted: "The only thing I want to say about The Article is that I am concerned that readers will believe things about my show and my relationship to my network that have not been my experience. I think this is what others mean when they describe feeling "spoken for."" (https://twitter.com/woebegonepod/status/1602453798332538881)

- the cellar letters twitter tweeted: "About the article: I am not going to attempt to invalidate anyone's thoughts or feelings... but I will say that it absolutely does not speak for me or align with my relationship and experiences with the network or anyone involved at the company.   Love you all. Go create stuff." (https://twitter.com/CellarLetters/status/1602457106271330304)

- multiple people have reportedly been blocked by newt on twitter for criticising the article, or asking questions about it. (https://twitter.com/ReassessHistory/status/1602425447098228737?s=20&t=IQ9wZJuHgqX2mgfDvTizqA, https://twitter.com/ReassessHistory/status/1602455204557127681?s=20&t=j22xMz0Hxw0yvW6Oz7B8SQ)

- alexander j newall has given a statement to podnews! it reads;

"Redundancies can be a highly emotional topic but this opinion blog is full of provable factual inaccuracies and its writers include individuals that hold senior positions at competitor companies that stand to monetarily gain from a reputational attack. We were approached for comment under false pretences and were not given a copy of this piece by the author. Numerous cast, crew and contractors have notified us directly in solidary about similarly misleading approaches made to them for this blog.

Rusty Quill has already internally released its 2023 Operations Update which included factual information on these topics along with information on out 93% RQ Network creator retention rate and our independent Employee Satisfaction Survey which scored an exceptional minimum of 4.3 out of 5 in all areas. This Operations update is due for public release in the new year."

(https://podnews.net/update/audio-drama-company-drama)

- audio editor michelle snow made a thread about this: https://twitter.com/MeeshSnowDoes/status/1602717570729132035?s=20&t=mMfAO5TjNFBNWQ_aMfhsHw

- in the (unofficial) “Rusty Quill PLEBS” discord, the creator of the storage papers said “The RQN stuff - I'll just say it's not entirely accurate or, at least, it's not the full picture which means it's painted in an unnecessarily bad light. I can't comment on the RQO stuff because I'm as much in the dark about that as anyone. But, as others on RQN have said, there's at least some of that that hasn't been my experience (and, for the record, I myself am not legally obligated to not say negative things about RQ).”

- annie (an RQ editor) retweeted this (https://twitter.com/serhawke/status/1602375132579827713?s=20&t=Q3iAjLLwsdIqYShTKinvHw)

- this thread also has a useful tweet further up on how to assess the utility of a source:

"PURPOSE - what was it meant to achieve? ACCURACY - can the facts be proven or disproven? CONTENT - what does it actually tell you? LIMITATIONS - what is it NOT telling you? Why? AUTHOR - biased? DATE - was its publication date "convenient" for any reason? Firsthand or hearsay?"

[this method is from their partial study of history in uni]

edits: added crew testimonials, updated tl;dr

tldr: newt (marketing director at a different podcast network) posted an article making serious allegations of mistreatment & worker exploitation towards RQ. the article has some plain misinformation, some truth, and mainly unverifiable info from anonymous sources

multiple rq creators stated they weren’t asked about this, and that their experiences w/ rq aren’t accurate to the article and/or that it doesnt speak for them. all of the crew testimonials from rq’s post are positive.

rq have responded, saying that the allegations made in the article are false. fable & folly have responded, saying that newt made + posted the article of their own accord. i think newt’s working on a followup article, which i’ll add here when it’s released

[mariacallous]

An air raid alert has just started when Victoria Itskovych joins a Zoom call from Kyiv. “It’s, like, a usual situation,” she says. “But really, it’s not usual.” February 24 will mark the second anniversary of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. For nearly two years now, Kyiv has been under bombardment. Some weeks, people have to trudge to their shelters night after night, checking text alerts and Telegram channels to figure out where the missiles are falling and when it’s safe to come out—although, it’s never really safe.

That relentless stress, and the trauma of losing family, friends, and colleagues on the front, has taken its toll. A poll by the city government last year found that 80 percent of residents reported symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine has exposed the whole of Ukrainian society to battle shock. “We’ve all suffered from this,” says Itskovych, who is director of the Kyiv City Council’s IT department. “Almost every person has somebody who was injured or died during the war, or lost their home or lost their health.”

In the face of such widespread injury, the Kyiv government has turned to Ukraine’s now-famous civic tech infrastructure for help. As the war enters its third year, the municipal government is starting to build a citywide system for providing mental health support to citizens. It’s a vast challenge, but also a unique opportunity—the first time that such a mass-trauma event has happened to a society that has already built the tools of digital government. Dealing with the mental health impacts of the invasion will be absolutely vital to keep society resilient, functioning, and committed enough to repel the invaders. It’s also the key to Ukraine’s postwar recovery, laying the groundwork now for a society that can rebuild itself physically and psychologically from the horrors of war. “This is the future of our society,” Itskovych says. “We are building the basis for the resilience of the community itself.”

At the heart of the plan is the Kyiv government’s digital platform, Kyiv Digital, which it launched in 2017. Before the invasion, it was largely used to manage parking and public transport, and to notify residents of disruptions to services such as road closures or power outages. When the war began, those notifications became more urgent: incoming attacks, the locations of bomb shelters, and the safest routes to reach them. Like other parts of Ukraine’s civilian technology, the city pivoted its tools to keep people safe and support the war effort, bootstrapping and rewiring the systems at pace.

“The first changes to the notifications we did in hours,” says Oleg Polovynko, adviser on digitalization to Kyiv’s mayor. Since then, the digital teams have been engaged in a constant cycle of innovation, trying to figure out what services they can bring online. The war has pushed them to act more quickly, to adapt tools they have and invent things that don’t exist.

They’ve expanded tools for civic participation, letting citizens vote on petitions, send feedback to the city government, and ask for help, such as financial support to repair bomb-damaged homes. And they’ve collected a lot of data, which is how the Kyiv government has been able to measure the scale of the city’s distress—and people’s reluctance to seek help. Of the 80 percent of residents who show signs of trauma, “40 to 45 percent are afraid to have contact with doctors who can help,” Polovynko says.

But this is only half of the problem that needs solving. For those who do want to seek treatment, there simply aren’t enough resources to help them. Clinical psychologists are supposed to limit the number of patient consultations they do in a day, so they don’t burn out. Before the full-scale invasion, Inna Davydenko saw a maximum of four patients daily. Today, Davydenko, a mental health specialist at the City Center of Neurorehabilitation in Kyiv, sees twice that number. When we speak, she’s just finished a video call with a soldier stationed near the front, whom she’s helping cope with stress and anxiety.

Even before the war massively increased the number of people dealing with trauma, depression, and anxiety, Ukraine’s medical system suffered from an underinvestment in mental health provision. “In most hospitals, you have maybe one psychologist. In good hospitals, it’s maybe two,” Davydenko says. “A lot of people need psychological help, but we can’t cover everything.” There is simply no way that the current system can grow to match the enormous jump in demand. But, Davydenko says, “almost every Ukrainian person has a smartphone.”

This is exactly what Polovynko and Itskovych want to exploit, using Kyiv Digital’s platforms and data to digitize mental health support for the city, and so close the gap between need and resources. Their project will focus first on those they’ve identified as being most vulnerable—war veterans and children—and those most able to help others: teachers and parents. The next six months of the project will be a “discovery stage,” Polovynko says. “We need to understand the real life of our veterans now, of the children, of the parents, what’s their context, how they survive, what services they use.”

The project will track people through the process of recovering from trauma, monitoring the treatments they ask for and the ones they receive, their concerns as they move through the mental health system, and their outcomes. Once the team has a detailed map of services and bottlenecks, and data on what’s working and what’s not, they can match individual needs with treatments. A full roll-out is scheduled for early 2025.

“It doesn't mean that the whole chain of the service will be absolutely digital,” Itskovych says. Some patients may be directed to group therapy or one-on-one meetings with psychologists, others will be given access to online tools. The aim, she says, is to create efficiency, to close the service gap, but also to provide comfort, meeting people where they are. “For a big part of our clients, there is more comfort with getting the service online, in different ways. Some people are not comfortable meeting a specialist one-on-one; they prefer a digital way to get the service.”

The project is being supported financially and operationally by Bloomberg Philanthropies, a charitable organization created by former New York mayor and Bloomberg founder Michael Bloomberg. James Anderson, head of government innovation at the organization, says that the project comes at a critical time for Kyiv, where people continue to suffer even though global attention has shifted away to other crises.

“There's always a tremendous amount of attention when the immediate crisis hits,” Anderson says. “But mayors continue to have to deal with the human costs of crises, long after the newspapers have turned to new subjects. That’s certainly what we sense and see in Kyiv.”

The size of the challenge in Kyiv is clearly daunting. But, Anderson says, there are reasons for optimism. Cities have got better over the past two decades at responding to common crises, such as Covid-19, which also required rapid, mass digitization of services. “Every crisis is distinct and different, and awful, in its own way,” Anderson says, “but there are lessons learned.” The Kyiv government, and Ukrainian society more widely, have demonstrated a capacity for rapid innovation to meet urgent needs, and Anderson hopes that success in this project could see it replicated internationally. “This is not the last war. This is not the last crisis,” he says. “I think Kyiv has lessons that they can share with cities around the globe.”

For Kyiv, and Ukraine, the crisis won’t end when the war does. “Psychological health is the number one problem for Ukraine,” Davydenko says, before correcting herself. “Number one is Russia, number two is our psychological health,” she says. “PTSD is our future.”

[missbabyjay]

I Wanna Be With You Everywhere - Pedro Pascal x Reader

FLUFF!

MASTERLIST - CHECK OUT MY PAGE FOR MORE!

Warnings/Content: Fluff, Alcohol

The piece is based off of the song Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac

Summary: After a long week of hard work Pedro treats you to a home cooked meal. The two of you finish off the night basking in a beautiful sunset before drifting off to a world of luscious sleep.

Word Count: 1.1 K

The light hum of the fan tickled your brain as you lounged on your snug, plush bed, propped up with your favourite book. The large windows that resided in your bedroom were cracked open, allowing the warm summer evening breeze to seep into the house, the fresh feeling lingering in your lungs as you breathed in. You had experienced a hectic week; work was incredibly busy, you had a bunch of meetings leaving you relentlessly tired. You hummed along to the soft music playing downstairs that muffled through the house, tapping your finger on the back of your book. “Finally some relaxation,” you thought to yourself. 

 Pedro was cooking dinner for the two of you - knowing a hearty and tasty meal would make your spirit feel lifted. That man would do anything to make you feel better and considering he was on a break from work he had all the time he would need to make the end of your week far better than it had been since Monday. He danced as he switched between the cutting board and the sleek frying plan that laid hot on the stove - cooking a mixture of vegetables. Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac filled the atmosphere, creating a calming environment. 

You placed a bookmark into your book making sure you wouldn’t lose your spot - the plotline was becoming too enticing, but the overwhelming smell of Pedro’s spiced cooking filled your nostrils and you decided to make your way downstairs. You were eager to enjoy a nice meal alongside Pedro; his presence always calmed you down and after the past few days that was exactly what you needed. 

You trotted down the stairs, happy to see Pedro. The aromatics hit your face as you turned the corner to enter the cosy kitchen you shared with Pedro. You saw him dancing along to the music - the two of you shared a love for Fleetwood Mac. You began singing along with the song, “oh-ohhhh, I wanna be with you everywhere.” Pedro turned around with a smile beaming from ear to ear. “Oh Princesa, I love your voice,” he cooed into the air. You wrapped your arms around him as he finished cooking dinner, the two of you swaying along to the melody together. Every so often he would send you a peck, making you giggle. “Dinner is ready. Why don’t you have a seat, baby. I’ll serve you,” he insisted with a warm, loving smile.

Pedro had arranged the table so that two candlesticks sat inbetween you bearing white taper candles that were already partially burned, drips of wax gliding down the sides of them. A cream satin table cloth draped over the small table and the delicate dinnerware was set out on top. Pedro cooked a traditional chilean dish - oh how you loved his culture’s food. The two of you enjoyed the home cooked meal alongside a glass of wine, basking in each other's company. 

“I hope this was a lovely end to your week, mi amor,” his voice purred. You smiled gently at him, you appreciated how much he prioritised your feelings. “It was lovely. The meal was absolutely delicious, P.” You reached for his hand across from you, rubbing your thumb against his tough yet soft skin. He grabbed your other hand, squeezing both of them tightly. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N,” he said with a serious tone while gazing into your eyes. You heart felt warm from the kind words that poured from his lips.

Pedro offered to take care of the dishes, insisting you should continue reading your book. You decided to change your environment by bringing yourself out to the patio. The clock read 7:45 p.m., “Perfect,” you thought to yourself, just in time to catch the sun fall behind the horizon leaving the sky glowing. The stone tiles felt cold on your bare feet as you made your way outside. You settled yourself on the sectional couch that was nested in the corner of your patio. As you bundled up with a light throw blanket you heard the footsteps of Pedro coming from behind you. He was accompanied with two glasses of wine. He lit the citronella candles that sat placed on aesthetically pleasing candle holders. “I’ve got wine!” he sung, while wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

As you sat there you realised just how lucky you were to live the life you have. Pedro nuzzled in beside you, grabbing a portion of the blanket to cover himself with. He brought his arm around you, pulling you close to him. “I love you baby,” he said as he planted a kiss on your temple and let his head rest against yours. You decided to close your book, knowing it would be waiting for you to continue later on. You intertwined your fingers with Pedro’s, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, P, I am so thankful for you,” you exclaimed before cupping his face and pulling him into a passionate kiss. His kiss tasted sweet from the wine you were sharing, making you pull him closer to enjoy the moment a little more. 

The two of you pulled away just in time to savour the beautiful sunset that laid before you. “You’re more beautiful than this sunset, ya know that sugar? As corny as it sounds,” he giggled. His cheekiness made you chuckle. 

The sun had settled and the sky grew dark, dusk washed upon the two of you. You felt quite chilled, rubbing your arms to create some warmth. Pedro noticed while glancing down at you, “Why don’t we head inside?” he suggested. 

As a team the two of you collected everything, making sure to exhaust the candles - safety first! You made your way into the bedroom, picking out one of Pedro’s favourite t-shirts out of his dresser while he also got ready for bed. You glanced at his toned and tanned body as he ran his fingers through his chocolate brown curls.

You decided to keep the windows open, lounging in the sweet summer air. The two of you intertwined your bodies and sat in silence, listening to each other's heartbeat and breathing. Pedro’s hands ran up and down your body, finding their way to your bare back underneath his large cotton shirt you sported. He began circling his fingers on your back, causing goosebumps to form on your skin. Your heart rate slowed and you found yourself falling into a deep sleep; ending your stressful week in the arms of your passionate lover.

[alternativeindie]

"Psh, come on, really? 7 years of an ongoing Undertale AU fanfiction?" Well... It's more likely than you'd think.

7 years ago today on April 25th, 2017, I posted the first chapter of my Underswap Papyrus x Reader fanfiction "Bone of Contention" by TheIndianaCrew. I was 15 years old and had no clue that I would still be writing it 7 years later at 22 while also in college. But what is this everlasting fanfic about? Well, Bone of Contention is an ongoing, slow-burn Underswap Papyrus x Fem! Reader fanfic that takes place 6 months after the monsters reappeared aboveground. It has an almost "enemies to lovers" vibe as initially, Y/N is mixed with the wrong crowd and is attending rallies that are protesting the monsters' reappearance. At least, until she meets Sans and Papyrus. Though their communication is initially laced with aggression, after Y/N has dinner with the brothers and gets a job at Muffet's café, they very quickly all become friends and perhaps eventually Y/N and Papyrus become something a little more. 👀 Whereas this wide range of time has had some unintended consequences on the writing of this story—specifically with bettering writing quality as one works through the 60 chapters, it is still a good read if you are interested in checking it out! It is currently on Ao3, Wattpad, and Quotev. I will leave the links below if you'd like to try it out. :) Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13029891/chapters/29802978. W: https://www.wattpad.com/story/119884851Bone%20of%20Contention%20(Underswap%20Papyrus%20X%20Reader). Q: https://www.quotev.com/story/9410029/Bone-of-Contention-Underswap-Papyrus-X-Reader.

[if-lost-please-return-to-maliksi]

Hi pooo, NSFW/SMUT Maliksi x Reader inspired by the song I See Red TwT

((Anon, same ba tayo ng pinapakinggan na I See Red? xDD di ba parang murder song yun? char. Direct to the point ang request natin haaa, I like it! xD))

Disclaimer: I do not own Maliksi. Full Credit goes to HC - @ask-emilz-de-philz. Please check out their blog for amazing art and the wonderful world of Planet Puto. All involved characters are adults.

Genre: Smut

TW: NSFW, Explicit, mentions of a gun, sprinkle of violence, blood, dirty talk, masturbation, oral, konting ka toxican, p*rn without plot, sobrang konti if meron man, bad writing sorry 2017 pa last time na gumawa ako ng smut. Umm.. Read at your own risk, I guess? I don't want to traumatize peeps hehe~ Minors, please don't interact. 18+++ ONLY

NON- #PhilMytCrea related AU. Reader (Y/n) has a marriage of convenience with Maliksi. OOC coz he's not a tamawo in this fic guys, just a normal guy with no sad backstory. Don't come for me, this is how 'I See Red' plays along my mind.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

You tossed your bag into the floor the moment you saw a pair of red stilettos which are not yours, laying on the frontdoor.

You knew Maliksi was seeing other people behind your back and it's fine, totally. You two were not wed out of love. Hell, you two only met each other a week before that damned wedding. It was a wedding made for the official partnership of your parents' companies, that's all.

What irks you the most is that Maliksi had the nerve to bring another woman under the roof of your house, knowing that you'll be home today after a week of insufferable business trips- you were exhausted and your 'husband' was banging some other chick on your bed.

You have always been labeled as 'intimidating' and 'bossy' by people around your- too many names and terms however it just leads to one point: you don't tolerate any disrespect and any bullshit from anyone.

"Get out or get shot." You coldly said as you entered your shared bedroom with Maliksi. The man is currently laying on his back on just his boxers while the girl he's with is on top of him, fully naked and giving him a good show. You went straight to your dresser and started rummaging for the hand gun your father gifted you before.

Upon realizing that you are not bluffing, the girl quickly got off on top of Maliksi, grabbing her clothes and making a run for it.

"Goddamn it! You are no fun!" Maliksi muttered underneath his breath but before he knows it, you were the one straddling him, landing a hard slap on his pretty face using the back of your hand that's now holding your glock.

You watched as single trail of blood slowly trickle down his nose.

"Fuckin' bastard! I only made you promise one thing after that hell of a wedding. You are not making a mess on my house, and especially not on my bed! Is that too much to ask for, you man-whore?!"

Maliksi's eyes widen at your sudden outburst. Who would've known that his wife is hiding some feisty personality underneath that stern and work addicted facade Your dad wasn't lying when he told him that you are a handful and that attitude will be a pain in the ass.

He lets out a deep chuckle as he wipes the blood off of his nose. "Look at you. All this time I thought I was married to a cold, emotionless robot. You should talk to me like this more often. God, it makes me hard." His voice resonated throughout the room as he took the gun out of your hands and placed it at the bedside table.

Sure enough, you can feel his growing bulge under those boxers. You two never had that kind of relationship despite being legally married. It's always just you sharing a bed at night like a pair of college roommates- maybe even less than that coz college roommates can sometimes cuddle. But you two- sleep like a pair of logs, away from each other in that king size bed as if you'll burn if your toes even touch accidentally.

You were about to get off of him but Maliksi wraps his arms around your hips, holding you in place. "You're not going anywhere." He smirks, licking the blood that got on his lips.

In a single breath, Maliksi was able to flip you over- switching your positions so that you're the one under him. "In case you can't read the room, I'm currently feeling hot n' bothered because of you. Kinda glad you arrived since the other girl can't get me hard."

"Then go jerk off somewhere, you idiot!" You tried pushing him off but he caught your hands and pinned it at the top of your head.

"Damn. Y'look so hot swearin' at me like that." He softly chuckled before undoing the necktie you are currently wearing and using it to restrain both of your hands. "Maliksi! W- what are you doing?!"

"We've been married for like two months now, Y/n. Can't a man see his own wife?" He said as he started undoing the buttons of your top, whistling at the sight of the red fabric of your lingerie peeking through.

"Didn't know you wear such things coming home to me, wifey." His voice sounded so seductively sweet that you have to do a double take if this is really the annoying guy you were unfortunately married to. Your face was red hot in embarrassment that you just wanted the ground to swallow you.

He smirks as he pulls out his hard cock, tip glistening with precum. He can't help but grin as he watch your eyes widen at the sight of him, not able to say a word.

"Didn't know my wife is this adorable. I like seeing you angry and shy. Tell me, will you let me see other expressions tonight, pretty?" He said not louder than a whisper as he slowly wraps his fingers around the base of his cock, giving it a light squeeze to feel just how hard he is from watching his wife stare from under him.

"Like what you're seeing, Y/N?" He teasingly asked as he started to stroking himself while you watch.

You felt your own breath get stuck on your throat as he asks you because you are indeed enjoying the little show he's putting up. For the first time, Maliksi is not a random guy you are married to. As much as you won't admit it, he's always been attractive, and hot. The air feels electric as room filled with the sounds of his panting and ragged breaths. You wouldn't tell him, but hearing him call you 'wifey' does things to you.

He reached up his free hand, tracing his thumb along your lower lips. "Open up for me, pretty girl." And for the first time in your life, you were obedient, opening up those pretty lips of yours and letting him use your mouth. You looked up at him, locking those pretty eyes into his as you take him deeply, feeling his tip brush into the back of your throat.

"I've got such a good wife here all this time. Y' should've let me know sooner." He said, grabbing handfuls of your hair to push himself deeper, making your eyes water.

"..fuck. you're such a dirty slut sucking me so good like that." he cursed, throwing his head back. You let out a moan, sending tremors and vibrations around his cock which made him buck his hips.

It didn't took long before he's got you completely naked on top of the sheets, his head buried between your thighs while his tongue works wonders on your sensitive clit. You were a moaning and trembling mess under his mercy which made him softly giggle on how his supposedly 'stuck up' wife turned out to be like this from his touch.

"Maliksi...please~ 'm so close."

He quickly pulled away, making you whimper in frustration from being denied of that sweet release.

"The only thing you're cumming on tonight is my cock, wifey."

He lined his twitching length along your dripping cunt, pushing in slowly, letting you adjust and get used to him before bottoming up and just stuffing you full of him.

He's been dreaming of this day when you two got married. Who would even be opposed of marrying you with that pretty face and killer body. He doesn't care if you two didn't marry for love. That body kept him awake at night, and he's definitely going all out now that he's got the chance to fuck you.

His pace is erratic, pulling out completely before slamming himself back completely, making your toes curl and your vision fill with stars as he fucks you senseless that all you can manage are moans and incoherent babbles.

He groans when he felt your cunt tightening around his cock, making him fuck you a tad bit harder. "You're so close now huh? My wifey seems to be enjoying my cock way too much." He chuckles before reaching into your clit, slowly circling his finger making you tremble in pleasure. "Maliksi....pleasee.."

"I know, pretty. I know."

You can feel your eyes rolling back and your body arching as you reach that sweet sweet release, with just a few more thrusts Maliksi follows, shooting ropes of thick hot cum inside you, telling you how pretty you are like that.

You two may not have started on good terms, but you both know this night is definitely a start of something.

[sunnylighter]

I read your ninjago series x movie fic (GiGAU) and I really love it, just recently got back to ninjago and have been searching through ao3 for good fics. Your fic was really good–no–great! I like how you wrote it.

I'm also here to inform you that you've been in a hiatus for a year.

Anyways, got any good ninjago series x movie fics you can recommend? Or any great fics in particular? (Mostly the series x movie fic) I'm pretty desperate ;u;

Yeah, and it will probably be a while yet before I get back to it. I'm burned out on Ninjago right now, but I'll get back to it eventually. It helps I haven't watched a good few of the more recent seasons, so there will be new stuff for me to sink my teeth into when I get back to it.

As for fic Recommendations:

My Dad is Bad but Still Family, by KayHau. This was written by my beta reader, and was a big chunk of what inspired me to write my fics. It's more of a merging of the movie and series, but it is very good. Kay Hau also wrote a series of gift-fics for the Grass is Greener which are canon to the AU, so check her out. Basically, in a mash-up of movie and show canon, what would happen if Lloyd had been raised by his dad, only to find he had a great destiny to fulfill.

Summoning Gone Wrong, by Doctor_Who_Fan85 is a funny take on what would have happened if in season 8 of the show, Harumi summoned Movie Garmadon instead of the undead one from the show. I beta-read this one, and it was fun to do.

That's Ninja Swag (It's Nothing New) by Fabro-de-omres (Fabro). It's a reincarnation fic. A 'What if the Movie Ninja are the reincarnations of the Show Ninja in the far future and start regaining their past memories' fic. I highly recommend it for the feels.

Of course, no series-movie crossover fic is complete without Same People, But Not Really, by @KittyDemon9000. What if Kai got sent to the Movie-verse, and how long would it take him to adopt all the Movie Ninja? It's a really great one, and I can't recommend it enough.

Enter the Ninjaverse by BionicStars. I didn't finish this one, but it's about the return of the Time Twins and Lloyd chasing them across the multi-verse to stop them.

Switched! also by Doctor_Who_Fan85. Another Show Lloyd and Movie Lloyd switcharoo. Poor boys.

Tantamount by Bamboosauce. Using the Tornado of Creation to stop the Oni sends the Show Ninja rocketing into the Movie-verse. There's not much to it, but I enjoy seeing the Movie Ninja freak out about it.

It's Me (Version 2-point-0) by lloydskywalkers. Okay, all the previous ones are on AO3, but this one is on Fanfiction.Net. It is honestly one of my favorites, and what first got me thinking about crossing over the show and the movie in any meaningful way. It's a oneshot that was written before March of the Oni came out, and has the author's imagining of how the oni could be. When one of the Oni come after Show Lloyd and drag him through the multi-verse, he ends up landing on his movie counterpart, and the two work together to avoid their murderous Oni Aunt.

That's all the ones I can find in my Bookmarks list on AO3 and FF. More may have come out since I burned out on Ninjago, so keep your eyes open. I hope you enjoy my recommendations.

[esoteric-chaos]

Ferns - The Mundane and Magical 101

Working with my local land more has taught me to source local plants and connect with them. By properly taking care of it and working the land. That also means connecting with local plant spirits.

The Fern is one of those species of plants. This wonderful herb is abundant, protective and hold much wisdom for they are very old. With some dating back to 360 million years (or so they say). It is known some species can live up to a hundred years.

They are full of wisdom, you might just learn something from them if you actively work with them as a spirit.

Scientific Name:

Family: Pteridophyte

Parts used: For species of Fern it varies

Planet: Mercury

Element: Air

CAUTIONS: ALWAYS check with your local herbalist and doctor before consuming any medicinal medicine as they will be able to direct you on proper dosages. Some medications can also interact and so can some conditions with certain herbs.

IMPORTANT: Some Ferns are harmful (like the Pteridium genus aka Bracken Fern) to the airways and can let off spores that can harm or cause death in immunocompromised people. Always be wary of Fern species around pets as well. Source and research responsibly.

Uses in Herbalism and Healing:

Certain Fern species are used to treat different ailments. Ex. Sensitive Fern (Onoclea sensibilis) used for arthritis while Maidenhair Speenwort (Asplenium tricomanes) is used for coughs.

Always check which fern species is used as some can counteract and aren't always used for the same ailment.

On a fun note, Fiddlehead Ferns are used from a culinary standpoint and are quite delicious when prepared correctly.

Uses in Magic:

When placed in the home, it is said to hold protective properties, and when planted at the doorstep.

Dried Fern, when burned, carries exorcism properties.

Some folklore speaks that when Fern is burned outside, it causes rainfall.

When carried or worn, Fern has the power to guide to treasure.

Some Celtic and Irish legends speak of Ferns being used in from healing to magic.

A Slavic folk tale speaks of a flower on a fern that blooms for a very short time on the eve of the summer solstice. It is said it brings fortune to the person who finds it. In some tales, it allows humans to understand animals talking. It is guarded by malevolent entities. Though the one who succeeds in gathering it can receive earthly riches, that attainment has always brought unlucky energy to the poor soul, so some leave it alone.

Recipes:

A very yummy recipe using Fiddlehead ferns. Check it out!

Sources and extra reading material:

Please remember while I provide sources, some content is my own UPG from working for years intuitively with this herbal ally. What you do not see from my sources assume it is my UPG and take what information you will. Always cross-reference and research yourself. All medical knowledge will be sourced.

Medical Links:

Cao, H., Chai, T., Wang, X., B. Morais-Braga, M. F., Yang, H., Wong, C., Wang, R., Yao, H., Cao, J., Cornara, L., Burlando, B., Wang, Y., Xiao, J., & M. Coutinho, H. D. (2017). Phytochemicals from fern species: Potential for medicine applications. Phytochemistry Reviews, 16(3), 379-440. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11101-016-9488-7

Spiritual:

Books:

Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs by Scott Cunningham

Links:

Want to check out my other posts? Here’s the Masterpost

[tryingtodotheright-thing]

Hello, Sunset - 1

AN: So, the inspiration randomly came to me. I've never written with an unnamed character before and I haven't written fanfic since 2017. Bear with me and I appreciate all feedback. Not sure how long this is going to be but it will be multi-part.

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: exes to lovers, idol verse, angst

Word Count: 1733

Warnings: reader has anxiety and depression, swearing

NEXT

Summer was coming to an end. This week was the season’s last gift; it was unusually warm, endless blue skies that you saw in paintings and sunsets that seemed to last all evening. Y/N had chosen to make the most of it, knowing this was her last moment to enjoy a little break in nature before life got busy again. She was always regretful when it got to the end of summer, wishing she’d spent more time outdoors, made the most of the good weather and just lived life a bit more fervently as she once used to. She didn’t quite know how to relax anymore. Even now, as she walked along the streets of London, she couldn’t quite slow down to a leisurely pace to admire the eclectic collection of shops that graced this particular street, hidden behind the famous streets of St James’s. Y/N called it being a Londoner, that you walked with purpose, always in a race to get to your next destination. Who had time to admire their surroundings when you had places to be? You definitely didn’t want to look like a tourist. 

Y/N had arrived early, one for the books since there were train strikes this weekend and she’d had to get a taxi to Wimbledon so she could take the District Line. She now had 30 minutes to waste before she could head to the restaurant, knowing that her perpetually late best friend wouldn’t arrive till at least 15 minutes after the reservation time. The sun was burning this afternoon and she knew that continuing to walk around without finding a spot of shade would just make things worse. She was parched and she’d forgotten to grab the bottle of water she’d prepared in her rush to check her doors were locked as the taxi waited for her. There was no choice but to fork up a fiver for a very expensive bottle of water in order to survive the heat. Making a swift decision, she turned around to head back to the main road. Walking briskly to escape the glares of the blazing star at its peak, she swiftly walked into Itsu. The air-conditioning inside the store gave her instant relief and she basked in it as she selected a bottle of water. After paying at the self-checkout till, she immediately opened the bottle to take a big gulp of the cold drink. Her thirst satisfied, Y/N walked out of the store and back into the heat of the summer. 

As she walked back towards the restaurant, Y/N tried to slow her steps, observing those around her. It was the summer bank holiday weekend, so it was the last hooray for many of the working population in the UK. There was a mix of tourists and locals: parents with their little ones for a family day out, young couples walking with their fingers intertwined  and rowdy teenagers in denial of schools restarting the next week. Time passed so quickly. She could remember being a teenager like it was yesterday but here she was in her last year of 20s, so different from her younger self when she was at the cusp of adulthood. So much had happened, so much had changed and yet sometimes she still felt a little like the insecure young woman who didn’t quite know where she fit in the vast world. Whoever said that with age comes wisdom was telling the biggest lie on earth. 

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N had arrived at the Japanese restaurant she was set to have her lunch at. The hostess greeted her and took her down the stairs and to the private room reserved. She looked around as she took her handbag off her shoulder and settled into her seat. The room was big enough to seat six people but it would be just Y/N and her friend, Rachel. She’d been at the restaurant exactly two years ago. That time, she’d been seated in the general restaurant then when Rachel had taken her out to celebrate Y/N’s new job. Y/N was no longer working at that company. In fact, Y/N had left the corporate world 15 months ago after suddenly landing in the spotlight. Speaking of said spotlight, the hostess had returned with chilled still water. She poured some water for Y/N before placing the bottle on a coaster. She hesitated to leave after Y/N thanked, struggling to decide whether to verbalise her thoughts or not. Taking a deep breath, she brought forward a framed picture. 

“Sorry to ask but would you mind please signing this picture? We’d love to display this in the restaurant.”

Y/N smiled and reached for the pen and frame, quickly writing out a message and a signature that still seemed unfamiliar to her. Returning the items back to the hostess, Y/N reassured the hostess it was no problem and posed for a photo too. Picture taken, the hostess thanked her again profusely before closing the door behind her, leaving Y/N to silence. 

Y/N sat back down in her chair and took her phone to check whether she had any messages from Rachel. Sure enough, there were three unread messages from Rachel. Yan Ya, called by all but her parents and grandparents as Rachel, was running late to no one’s surprise. Rachel was beautiful and graceful as her parents had hoped when they named her but her trouble with punctuality was a running joke between everyone who knew and loved her. 

After texting Rachel back to reassure her that she’d only just arrived, Y/N scrolled through the other notifications on her phone, mostly notifications from her public Instagram account that she swiped to ignore. She came across a message from her manager that she had received about an hour ago, asking Y/N to call her. Y/N was immediately nervous about what Sian would have to say. The urgency and the cryptic instruction with no context also didn’t help. Biting the bullet, Y/N pressed the call button at the top of the screen. Sian picked up on the second ring and immediately said, “Are you alone?”

The nerves that filled her stomach had now tripled and she could almost hear the padams of her heart go faster. 

“Yes, I’m in a private room at Ginza. What’s wrong?”

“Have you seen Twitter today? You’re trending right now.” Y/N could trace the panic hidden in Sian’s voice. “Dispatch posted a picture of you with him.”

Suddenly, Y/N could barely hear Sian as she continued talking. Her breaths were louder and she felt her anxiety soar as her throat dried up. 

“I can’t tell when it was taken but it’s so obviously the two of you. HYBE has put out a statement already denying a relationship and saying it was just two friends meeting for a meal. But Dispatch has made another post saying they have more pictures to prove that you’re in a relationship.”

Y/N took the glass of water the hostess had kindly poured for her earlier and took a sip, her hand clutching the cold glass and trying to focus on the condensation that surrounded the glass and counting in her head as she took a deep breath.

“Y/N, we need to put out a statement before HYBE to steer the narrative and protect you. You need to cancel whatever plans you have and head to my office. I’m ordering a car to pick you up from Ginza. It should be there in 5 minutes.”

Receiving no reply, Sian called out, “Y/N, are you there? Y/N?”

“Hmmm?”

Hearing the rushed breath and the breaking voice, Sian immediately softened her voice. “Honey, we can get this under control. It won’t be bad like last time. Okay? Trust in me and the company to protect you.”

“I don’t want things to get worse!” 

“It won’t, I promise. I’ve got you, okay? Take a deep breath for me, hun. That’s it. It’ll all be fine. We just need a plan, okay?”

Y/N meekly responded, nodding to no one as she tried to hold the tears back. The door behind her opened without a warning. Y/N flipped to find Rachel behind her with a bouquet of pink peonies. Rachel’s smile and cheery greeting grew to a stop as she noticed the crushed expression on Y/N’s face and the frazzled greetings from Sian as she tried to catch her attention again. Rushing into the room, Rachel wrapped one arm around Y/N and took Y/N’s phone from her tight clasp. 

“Sian, it’s Rachel. I'm with Y/N. What’s going on?”

“Oh, thank God! Rachel, there isn’t much time to explain. There’s a car outside Ginza waiting; it’ll take you to my office. I’ll explain everything once you get here. Look after Y/N and make sure no one sees her or definitely no pictures in the state she’s in. I’ll call the restaurant right now to settle the bill.”

Rachel, understanding the urgency of the situation, ended the call with Sian and quickly gathered their belongings. Making sure she’d taken everything, she turned to Y/N, who was still in shock. 

Rachel brushed Y/N’s hair away from her face and grasped her face to look at Rachel. 

“Hey, whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. Where’s my strong, independent and resilient Y/N?” 

“I don’t feel like any of those words right now.”

“No no no! We don’t do low confidence in this friendship when I know how amazing my friend is.” Y/N let out a shaken breath that was a mixture of laughter and tears.

Rachel quickly dabbed away the tears that fell and said, “Keep calm and carry on, as Mr Parry would say right?” 

This time, Y/N smiled hearing the favourite saying of her old biology teacher. Feeling better, she rubbed her hands on her skirt and stood up. 

“Right. Okay, let’s go.”

“That’s my girl!” Rachel cheered and looped her arm through Y/N’s. Pausing before the door, she turned to her left to look at her shorter friend and said, “And fuck anybody that tried to mess with you, especially one S.Coups!” 

With that said, Rachel opened the door and led the way out of the restaurant. 

[the-healthy-human-mind]

Risen From The Ashes

Previous: To Hell and Back

Next: ‘Til Death do Us Part

CWs: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, aftermath of torture, blood, gore, physical fights, banter, mentions of burns, hinted human trafficking, hospitals, medically induced coma, PTSD, paronoia.

London summers were always brutal, humid and disgustingly warm. Somehow, there were still tourists crammed in every corner of pubs. John looks up from his phone when someone sits in the booth across from him, chuckling when he recognizes the blonde. 

“Kate.”

“John,”

Price leans on the table in front of him, glass of whiskey in his hand. “It’s been awhile, what brings you out of your hole?”

“A Navy SEAL has been taken, I need you and one of my agents to get her back.”

Kate hands him a folder, placing her tablet on the table between them. John opens the folder, flipping through the pages. 

“Wagner? Pulling out the big guns for this Kate?”

She pulls up a bodycam recording from one of the corpses found after the mission. “We’re dealing with an ally of Russians, John, and Elaine’s been taken, I need the best to bring her home.”

“How long?”

Kate sighs, rubbing at her temple, “almost 8 months. She went MIA in January, all intel gathered has fallen through since then.”

Price pulls a couple notes from his wallet, placing them down on the table before gathering his things. 

“When do we leave?”

“Now.”

“You Captain Price?”

Havoc looks down at the man as he steps into the helo. 

“That makes you Havoc.”

The taller man laughs, sitting across from the Captain, having to straighten his legs to fit. 

“Ever dealt with the Russians before sir?”

“More than enough to know what I’m doing.” 

“Eyes on the prize, boys. Don’t lose focus.”

Price adjusts the straps of his vest as the helo approaches the landing zone. Havoc lowers the ramp when they land, following after John and putting on his night vision goggles. 

“This is Echo 6-2, going dark.”

John wasn’t one to mix personal life with work, but seeing Elaine, the child he watched go from a headstrong teenager to the second ever female Navy SEAL, tied up and broken killed him. He checks for her pulse while Havoc goes to cut the rope securing her arms and legs. He sighs in relief when he feels the familiar pulse on her neck. 

“C’mon, Laney. Time to go home.”

When John goes to lift her up, her arm comes flying up, aiming for his jugular. The shard of glass in Elaine’s hand crashes onto the floor, shattering to pieces upon impact when he wrenches her arm away. 

“You bastard— you-” 

“It’s me, Laney, Kate sent us.”

Elaine stumbles, still glaring at him, but she doesn’t try to attack again. John is able to fully assess how bad her injuries are, from the cuts on her face to the burns on her leg. 

“It’s ’bout damn time, thought you guys were throwin’ a party.”

John sighs, hooking his arms under her armpits while Havoc gently grabs her legs.

“A true bloody blast.”

John was no stranger to hospitals, the smell of sanitizer and the white walls were all too familiar. But it seemed as though Rachel had never set foot in a hospital before with how hesitant she was. He couldn’t blame her, seeing her only child in this state must be terrifying. The medical staff had placed Elaine in a medically induced coma to allow her body to heal — if it even could.

“If anything changes, call me, John.”

He nods at Kate as she walks down the hall, Rachel following behind her after giving Elaine one last look. 

September 2017

“I can fucking do it John! Stop babying me!”

John sighs for the hundredth time that hour, leaning on the side of Elaine’s hospital bed.

“Laney, the doctor said-”

“Screw the doctor.”

“Stop trying to get yourself even more hurt, Laney.”

God, he was going to be gray and wrinkled by the time this was over. The pair look at the door when they hear the sound of sneakers against the floor, a student nurse standing in the doorway. 

“What?”

Elaine hisses at the poor girl, eyes full of rage.

The nurse stiffens, “uh- it’s time for your… burn treatment.”

“Well then,” John places his arm around Elaine’s shoulders, slowly lifting her up, “let’s get this over with.”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“Quit it Elaine, you’re doing this whether you like it or not. So shut the bloody hell up and act like the soldier you are.”

Elaine goes quiet for the first time in days, and when John glances at her, she’s staring at the wall ahead, lower lip twitching. He sighs, again.

“Laney-”

“Don’t. Get it over with.”

She can’t tell what was worse, being trapped in a basement, or being bed bound and relying on everything and everyone around her to survive. She can’t even take a piss by herself. And soon she’d be forced to move back in with her moms to recover. Nothing but a burden and a piss poor excuse of a soldier.

[pugh-bug]

No.42 Chapter 6

Art Donaldson x reader slow burn

I’m sorry for the long wait, I’ve not been feeling very motivated and I’ve been busy with a lot of personal things. Anyway, as always my taglist for this fic is open and I really hope you all enjoy this longer Chapter! ✨🫶🏻

Part 5

———————————————————————

It was the morning of Liam’s party when you woke with a particularly vengeful headache, one not unlike the great Zweig plague of 2017. You didn’t know why he called it a plague, it had only been a hangover coupled with a bad cold but Patrick was nothing if not theatrical.

You rolled over, groaning slightly from the effort, to check the time: 11:43am. Before you could think about food a knock at your door made you jump, sending your free arm thrashing into your phone. It hit the floor with a dreadful smashing sound. ‘Shit!’

‘Everything okay?’

Art.

‘Yeah, just … fucking smashed my phone.’

One of the many things you and Patrick had in common was your ability to break just about anything: laptops, mugs or phone screens it didn’t matter. A week in your so called ‘care’ and they’d be hospitalised. After grabbing the nearest hoodie you owned you let Art into your room to show him the damage. He tutted at the sight.

‘What? I guess you don’t break anything.’

He only smiled at your comment before Patrick chimed in from the hall stating that ‘the prick’ not only never broke ‘shit’ but that he was incapable of ‘messing shit up either’. Shakespeare be damned.

You rubbed your face a little, still half asleep and focused your eyes on the blonde above you. ‘That true?’

Art looked down at you, the sleepiness apparent on your face but somehow just adding to your charm, and thought about his games. He’d once lost to Liam after a - not so surprisingly - rageful argument with his ex and smashed the racket so hard into the grass that it had broken in nine pieces. Then he grinned: ‘Yes.’

——————————————————————

‘What time did Liam say to be there for?’ You yelled from your room, whilst trying not to rip your lashes out with the flimsy curler you’d stolen from a friend years before. They replied that the three of you needed to leave in half an hour. Where the fuck had the day gone?

As the fan in your room whirred incessantly, you lent your face to its subpar coolness for a breather. No matter how many Summers you endured it was still your least favourite season. Hayfever was a bitch.

‘Is this okay?’

You turned you head at the sound of Art’s eager voice. He was stood in your doorway wearing a navy shirt, that brought out his eyes, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Even his soft curls were looking bouncier than usual, just begging to be tousled and pulled on.

‘Yep. Fine.’

It took you forty minutes to finish your makeup. Having Patrick and Art argue over tennis in your ear was distraction enough to cause your eyeliner to be uneven. You redid it. From the corner of his eye, without arousing suspicion, Art watched you in awe. He found the concentration on your face and the detail and care you took with your makeup - no your art - fascinating. It reminded him of himself, his perfectionism with all things tennis.

‘Y/N, let’s gooo!’ Patrick launched at you, playfully shaking your shoulders from side to side while you went limp like a rag doll.

‘You done?’

His eyes widened at your sass.

‘Are YOU done??’

Art chuckled to himself, before the inevitable ‘you’re the third wheel’ self doubt came simmering in.

——————————————————————

‘We’re Ubering back right?’ You asked, as Patrick parked at the end of Liam’s street. The only way you were going to survive a house party of people you barely knew was through drinking enough cocktails to fill a pool. ‘I refuse to be the designated driver.’ And no amount of ‘it’s not a tennis thing’ reminders were going to change that.

Liams house was undoubtedly the largest on the estate, with its imposing double door entrance, obnoxious lawn ornaments and light up pool. God a light up pool? ‘Jesus Christ…’ you mumbled to yourself, catching Art’s attention.

‘He’s fond of it. Don’t say anything.’

Liam was still dressed for tennis, no surprises there, and holding a keg when he greeted the three of you. His smile was as welcoming as ever but his friends floated around him without giving you so much as a glance. They belonged in a house this grand, as did Art and Patrick. You, however, felt like the unwanted pest no spray could rid the house of.

‘You never told me you were The Great Gatsby.’

Liam scoffed at your dryness, stating that Art’s house was ‘much much bigger.’ Since your attraction and care for Art had grown it hadn’t escaped your notice, despite all the daydreaming, that there was a class difference between the two of you. You were no stranger to this of course it was the same with Patrick, which had caused issues in the past, but the sting was as strong. In fact it was strengthened by the fact that Art wasn’t just a friend to you and any future you imagined with him was tainted with the knowledge of that divide.

With Patrick’s Grandma’s line: ‘Don’t stare or they’ll smell poverty’ in your head, you walked past every expensive item with forced indifference. The smell of sandalwood, Chanel and Chardonnay filled the air with the twenty foot ceilings never halting their potency. Patrick had found the kegs too inviting to ignore so as you lost him to the party you glanced, not so subtlety, at Liam’s ‘not tennis friends’ guests. You clocked several sporting Louis Vuitton and felt the overwhelming urge to leave.

‘Drinks are in the dining room, if you were wondering.’

Liam’s younger brother, you presumed it was he had the same nose, had a much higher voice than you’d expected. The boy couldn’t have been more than sixteen, so what on earth was he doing talking to you?

‘You’re-‘

‘Danny, Liam’s brother.’

‘Oh! Yeah, Art just mentioned you.’

At the mention of Art, Danny flinched involuntarily. His eyes, much less sure than his brothers, darted around the room. ‘Liam invited Art?’ Without letting you answer, he widened his eyes and rubbed his face in genuine confusion. You were suddenly intrigued. ‘Yeah, they hang out almost as much as me and Pat. Why the surprise?’ Danny shrugged, refusing to make eye contact with you for several moments. What was his issue?

‘I shouldn’t say.’

The two of you watched Liam and Art for a moment, drinking alarmingly quickly in the centre of the room enjoying the blaring speakers. As Art looked down and wiped his mouth, grinning, you noticed Liam’s smile drop. His eyes suddenly narrowed and bore into the side of his friend’s head. It was brief but unsettling.

‘You know how Liam’s girlfriend dumped him last week?’

You shook your head.

‘Well, she said he was holding her career back or something and she kicked him out. He’s not just here to throw this party, he lives here again with us Mum is furious but anyway - he’s …’ Danny bit his bottom lip, struggling to find the right phrasing. ‘Liam’s still in love with you.’ For a moment you just stared, glass eyed, not taking anything in. What? Liam had just dated a tennis star, a national hero, a Gucci model and not once had you thought he was hard done by. That he needed you instead, that he needed to go back to his little crush on his even richer friend’s roommate. What was wrong with him?

‘Just, don’t say anything.’ Danny suddenly looked horrified at his confession and before you could ask him why he’d said anything at all, he’d scurried to some wing of the house you’d never find.

——————————————————————

After Danny’s strange departure you had found Patrick and Art and caught up to their drunkness. Quickly. It hadn’t taken you and Art long to clean out Liam’s fridge and varnish Art’s pretty braincells with a layer of stupid you’d yet to see. Before long you’d switched to Pepsi but the same couldn’t be said for Donaldson.

‘Y/N….’

The party wasn’t close to dying down but luckily in a house so obnoxiously grand there were plenty of empty rooms. You and Art had taken refuge in one of many spare bedrooms to listen to his drunken ramblings without interruption.

‘I could have smust loved here.’ Art huffed, suddenly looking like a petulant toddler sat on the floor with his ninth beer. He was the lightest light weight you’d ever met, in fact… ‘Do you normally drink?’

‘Huh? … OH DRINK?!’ He looked confused, as if he’d just lost something but couldn’t remember what. You had to admit to yourself it was hilarious to see such a put together man so incompetent. ‘No…never I never drink ever ever Y/N.’ His starry gaze hardened and suddenly, whilst looking comically serious, Art pulled you close with force. ‘Want to hear a secret?’ You blinked slowly. ‘I’m not drummkk at all!’ Bless.

Both of you erupted into giggles at his mistake, although you weren’t sure if Art knew what he was laughing at. His face lit up, like a child on Christmas, and you actually felt sad for a moment thinking this was the happiest you’d seen him in a while.

Somehow, Danny’s voice had wormed its way into your head spelling ‘Liam invited Art?’ over and over. You knew it was wrong to pry but you wanted to know more. ‘Art?’ He was drinking his tenth beer with conviction. ‘How’s Liam?’ Art suddenly sighed, quite loudly, and set his beer on the ground. He almost knocked it over but you caught it with ease, only to catch him smiling at you dreamily. Drunk, he’s drunk shhhh brain.

‘He’s fine just really smi,’ he coughed suddenly before correcting himself. ‘FINE!’ You giggled, almost feeling sad for Patrick that he wasn’t there to witness Art’s childishness. It might have been the first time since meeting the future tennis star that you’d felt like the together one, although you weren’t exactly sober either.

‘You two okay then? No issues?’ You heard your own voice but it wasn’t yours it was high school you. The girl who craved gossip and details, the girl who could barely keep a secret for a lesson let alone forever. Art was peeling the sticker off his bottle when he answered you, eyes still glazed over and confused like a newborn. ‘He’s been a bit dick since she,’ you noticed him rock slightly on ‘she’. ‘Broke up with h- him. Broke up broke up broke up. He likes youuuu though.’ His confused face suddenly hardened and he frowned only for a moment but you caught it.

Knock knock

‘No one better be fucking in here!’

Liam.

‘Okay? 3,2,1 get your clothes back on sluts I’m coming in!’

Liam’s face fell when he saw it was you and Art alone, you watched his eyes gage the close proximity between you but then the unused bed. He tutted. ‘Donaldson who let you drink this much?’ You raised your hands innocently as if to say ‘not me!’ as Liam helped his friend up. Using his best dad voice, that didn’t mask his impatience, he took the weight of Art’s slack body and walked him to the hall. They’d barely walked four steps before: ‘Y/N? Y/N’s coming right? She … she hast to come!’ If he hadn’t have been completely gone and yelling, you might have found the moment romantic. Instead you just felt concern.

‘We’ll get you some water okay?’ Art nodded eagerly at you, ignoring Liam’s huffiness. It had been a long night already and you weren’t planning on spending the rest of it watching Art get his stomach pumped. God he was a light weight. When the three of you made it downstairs, with great difficulty and lots of swearing from Liam, you were greeted instantly with a lipstick kissed Patrick grinning ear to ear. ‘Someone’s had fun.’

‘More than you.’ He raised an eyebrow at Art, who was quickly melting into the depressive stage of drunkness babbling about tennis losses under his breath. The alarmingly expensive speakers were blasting Nelly whilst you waded Art through the gyrating crowd to water. It was like babysitting without the pay.

It took Patrick threatening to break all of his rackets before Art drunk any water. Liam’s patience had expired much quicker and lead him to depart to party room 26? There were too many rooms to remember. The three of you were alone in the looming kitchen but there was a speaker nearby disturbing the peace.

The kitchen tiles were cool against your warm legs when you sat with Art, his head against the fridge door. Patrick wiped the lipstick aggressively from his cheek before shouting over the music ‘Does anyone have a cig?’ You shook your head and Art - well Art was falling asleep slowly but surely, his head lolling as he fought to stay awake.

‘I know Liam has a thousand rooms but I think we should take him home.’

Patrick sighed in response, his head throbbing from the music and shots already. ‘Art honey?’ You always called drunk people honey or sweetie, it had started when you were sixteen and never quite stopped. ‘Do you want us to take you home?’ He opened his eyes wearily to meet yours. ‘You can get some proper sleep.’ Art simply nodded and held his arms up for you to help him. The poor boy was hopeless when he was hammered and you found it equal parts adorable and concerning.

——————————————————————

In the Uber home Patrick called shotgun, as usual, so you sat with Art in the back. His head had gradually, over the course of the journey, lent more and more on your body until his head was resting in your lap. Every so often you’d look down to check he was still breathing but you needn’t worry. He was fast asleep.

‘Y/N?’ Patrick craned his neck towards you. ‘Thanks for looking after him tonight.’ He smiled a classic Zweig smile but slightly more tired. You ran your fingers through Art’s curls without thinking and mumbled ‘You took care of him too.’ Patrick turned back in his seat and sighed ‘He might need you more.’

Chapter 7

Masterlist

Taglist: @gatorgirl007 @imblushingrn @soy-garbage @blahhucantmakeme

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance (Chapter 3)

Word count: 9.1k+

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, drinking, language, fluff, angst, violence.

This story is a very special collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon. We have been scheming on this one for a while... If you haven't read her stuff, definitely go check it out. If you have, even better! We are taking this one all the way back to the early days, but we will be going into the present, so hold on tight it will be a bumpy ride. Without further ado...

SAM POV

New Year’s Eve 2017

Chasing your drunk girlfriend around a party where she knows practically everyone proved to be a daunting task. As soon as you would find her she would pop out of sight and find someone new to strike up a conversation with. Elle was like magic, she could instantly transform any situation into a reason to have fun. However, at parties she was slippery. Hard to grasp and keep in one place, you knew that she had never been tied down a day in her life. You liked her that way. 

So tonight as you watch her flit around the room transferring her happiness to everyone she met, you decided to sit back and watch. After securing your New Year’s kiss at midnight, you watched as people began to slowly file out. The crowd began to grow thin, and you took an empty seat on your old family sofa, chatting casually with whoever passed by.

Even through the crowd of people you could hear the crashing of the back door against the frame. Maybe it's because you lived here and recognized the sound, but no one else seemed to notice. You snapped your head in its direction and you saw her. Her new boyfriend had her by her arm, fingers digging into her bicep as she tried to push him off of her. Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of the situation. Squinting your eyes, you watch him drag her across the backside of your living room. He bends to whisper something in her ear as she turns her head away from him. Something is not right.

As he throws open the front door, he escorts her out first looking behind himself as he shuts the door. Instinctively you stand, your legs carrying you over to the window to check on them. You see him slamming the door after her, before getting into the driver's side. Wheels spinning in the yard as he pulls out onto the street. Your heart is racing. Is she okay? It’s not like her to leave without saying goodbye. Should I tell someone?

Seeing Elle deep in conversation, you make your way to the patio, Jake’s favorite hiding spot for situations like these. He was never much of a partier, choosing to have a few drinks and spend time in his own head. As you step outside you see him leaning against the railing on the side of the house where the light burned out years ago. It never got changed because Jake ‘liked it that way’.

As you approach him you can see the look of fury on his face. Something has him pissed off, and you think you may have a clue. You lean against the railing next to him, just silent for a few minutes before you finally break.

“Did you see her?” you ask.

His head turns to you, “Yeah, I saw her… And him.” he answers, a darkness pooling in his eyes.

“He seems like a real piece of work. I just watched him drag her by the arm across the living room. She looked upset. I am kind of worried…” you trail off. 

“He did that shit out here too. She was out here talking to me and he lost it and told her they were leaving. Yanked her right out of the chair, cussing, the whole nine. I thought I might kill him, but not all of us can con our way out of jail with our good looks…” he says smirking at you.

“It was one time…” you laugh. Your tone returns to worry, “You think she is okay though?” 

“She’s a tough one. She can hold her own. We have all been drinking…I’m sure she is fine.” he says. You nod your head in response, as you hear Elle pop through the back door calling your name.

JAKE POV

The truth is that you don’t know if she’s okay. You have a bad feeling about Andy. Call it a hunch. But you can’t let Sammy know that. He will be worried sick over her. His best friend. She’s been gone for 5 minutes and you already have a nagging feeling in your chest. You know something isn’t right. 

Hours pass as you think about her and what happened tonight. Maybe you should have tried harder, stood your ground. Taken her behind you, protected her. But you couldn’t. You know that in just a few days she will be back in Ann Arbor with him, with no one to protect her from the repercussions of what you might have done to save her tonight. It was better to let her go. Safer even. You hated every second of it. 

But, she said it. Those words you have been dying to hear fall from her lips. She loves you. Still. She never stopped. Dread washes over your body as you remember the other things she said. The hurtful things, the ugly truths you didn’t want to hear. ‘He wasn't gone…’, ‘He didn’t leave me’. The sentiments swirl through your head. She was right. You did leave her. You had no choice. You left her and hated every waking second spent away from her. Your mind has been plagued by her day in and day out. Always and only her. 

When Sam met Elle you were happy for him. Finally he could take his mind off of not being with the girl he always dreamed he would be with. You felt his pain. Wallowed with him in secret. What are the odds that the two of you both spent your nights sleeplessly tossing and turning in turmoil over the same girl? The girl who was off in someone else's arms just to dull the pain of not having you. 

Sam stopped mentioning her after a while. It almost made you sad. Was he forgetting her? How could he? Why couldn’t you? 

But you knew why. You didn’t want to. Every girl at gigs vying for your attention, the ones that would inevitably make it backstage, the ones draped around Danny and Josh, the ones you would see sneaking out of hotel rooms early in the morning… they could never hold a candle to her. They would never be her.

HER POV 

“Andy stop, let go of me.” you say, pulling your arm away from him as he forces you through the house.

He bends down to growl into your ear, “We will talk about this in the car. Let’s go.” You turn your face away from him, not even able to look at him in the moment. Crossing the living room you are glad to not recognize any faces, embarrassed of what they might think. As he pushes you through the front door, he closes it swiftly behind himself, unlocking his car at the same time. He pulls open the passenger door and instructs you to get in before slamming the door behind you. He is in the driver's seat in seconds, wheels spinning as he pulls out of the grass and onto the pavement. 

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, you’ve never seen him like this before. He is really mad, and to be honest you don’t blame him. What he walked in on was nothing short of shocking. “Andy I–” 

“Shut up.” he seethes, cutting you off before you even have a chance to explain. His knuckles were white with his hard grip on the steering wheel. “Do you love that guy?”

You sit nervously in the passenger seat, not fully processing his question. 

Suddenly he punches the steering wheel, “Answer me! Do you love him?!” he screams.

Panic stricken you lie, “NO!” afraid of what would happen if you told the truth. “Of course I don’t! I was drunk I didn’t mean it!” 

His car abruptly comes to a halt outside your parents house, “Get out,” he says, his eyes glossed over and glued to the street ahead of him. 

Taking the opportunity to get as far away from him as possible, you throw the door open and shut it behind you as he speeds off. 

You are shaking with nerves and feel sick to your stomach. What just happened?

You quickly make your way inside and to your room. You close the door quietly behind you so as to not wake your parents as you struggle to keep yourself from having a panic attack.

Sitting on the edge of your bed you pull your phone from your purse and see a text from Sam.

Sam: You okay? 

There was a time in your life where you would tell him everything. Every secret, every thought you had. But things aren't like that anymore. You want to tell him everything, but you can’t. You gave that up when you ghosted him for months on end, and for what? For a guy who yells at you in front of your friends? A guy who lays his hands on you and tells you to shut up? 

You: Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for inviting me to the party, I had a good time.

Sam: You sure about that…

You: Yes…

Sam: You would tell me if you didn’t have a good time… right?

You: Yes. I think we all just had a little too much to drink.

Sam: Okay. 

You hated lying to him, but you had to. What were you supposed to say? Sorry my boyfriend lost his cool and made us leave? It was better to leave things this way. Your mind shoots back to Jake and what he said tonight. What you said.

I told him I love him. I do. That part was true.

‘You disappeared! I waited for you! I thought you felt the same! You told me you felt the same!’

Those words shattered you. He waited for you, but you didn’t wait for him. You couldn’t. It hurt too bad. 

‘But even from halfway across the country I wanted you. I always wanted you. Only you!’

The worst part of all of this is that you still wanted him too. You’ve only ever wanted him. But there was Andy. You wanted Andy, but in a different way you wanted Jake. He would never be to you, what Jake was. You would never want Andy in the same way that you longed for Jake. It was a different, ancient kind of longing. Forbidden, making it all the more painful. You meant what you said tonight. You do love Jake. You never stopped loving him. You know that you always will love him, but you don’t know if the time will ever come for the two of you.

–

A few days after returning to school for the start of the new semester you heard from Andy. He wanted to talk, and you were willing. You wanted to fix things, you knew you screwed up but he wasn’t exactly innocent either. When he called and asked you to come over you agreed, nervously counting the minutes until class ended. You knew what you were going to say, you had it all planned out. You hoped he would forgive you.

As you knocked on the door to his apartment, he greeted you with a smile. You stepped in as he pulled you into a hug. You weren’t sure what to expect but this definitely wasn’t it. He stepped back from you, pulling your arm to examine the four tiny faded purple marks. “These are from me?” he asks, brow furrowed in sadness.

“Yeah…” you say shyly.

“I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I was just blinded with rage. Hearing you say that to him… I don’t know. I snapped. I really am sorry. I just… love you so much. You make me crazy…” he implores.

He loves you?

Andy sullenly made his way over to the couch and plopped down, his head falling into his hands. You could tell he really was torn up.

“I’ve never felt like this about someone. I need you. Please say you forgive me.” he begs. 

Taking in his words the best you can, you search his face for any sign of insincerity. It really does feel like he means it. He seems to be being genuine and his piercing eyes are begging you to take him back. His hand gently glides down your arm, stopping when it meets your hand. He pulls your hand to his lips placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know you aren’t usually like that, and if you really are sorry, I can forgive you. But you embarrassed me in front of my friends. You can't do that, ever again.” you say. 

“I swear. Never again.” he says, the corners of his mouth turning into a smile.

“Okay…” you reply hesitantly. “Do you mean it though?” you ask.

“Mean what?” he asks.

“You said you love me…” you say.

“Yeah, I do. I do mean it. I’m crazy about you. I can’t lose you.” he replies.

You feel a flutter spread through your chest as his eyes meet yours. You press your lips to his, forgiving him for his actions and praying it would never happen again.

---

April 2018

It had been three months since the New Years Party and things had been so much better. You had spent almost every day together. He had gone above and beyond taking you on dates, starting each morning with a text and ending each night on the phone. Of course, some nights you were together into the morning, but even then it was good. He had even made it a point to take you back home to meet his family, who you instantly felt very welcome and comfortable with. Things had never been better between the two of you. But there would always be that one thing you could and would never tell him. Something you'd carry with you for life.

As you walked to class you reveled in the warmth of the sun. It had been cold and cloudy, but today the sun warmed the air and everyone was taking advantage of it. Ascending the steps to the building you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

Danny: Hey! I am throwing a surprise party for Sam’s birthday in a few days, can you come?

Sam’s birthday?

You check the date on your phone and see it’s in two days. Crap you almost missed it. 

You: Absolutely. I will be there, just text me the details.

Danny: Awesome, I will.

This was your chance to make things right with Sam. Show him that you are still his best friend and that you are still there for him. Truthfully you do miss him and find yourself often wishing you could just call him up like you used to. Maybe after this party you would be able to do that again.

After classes that day you made your way to the bookstore near campus. You knew exactly what you wanted to get Sam for his birthday. Skimming the spines of books on the shelf you spot it. The exact book you checked out from the library that day so many years ago, ‘The Birth of Loud’. The book the two of you poured over for weeks working on your History project. There were a few times you caught Sam reading it for fun. You knew he would love it, so as you handed the cashier your money she put the red book in the paper bag and you were on your way. As soon as you got back to your dorm you took the extra time to write a special message on the inside cover. Your ‘I’m Sorry’ statement.

‘I promise I won’t be a ghost anymore. Proud of you Rockstar. Happy Birthday.’

—

As you and Andy make the drive up to Frankenmuth, you fidget anxiously in the passenger seat. He has insisted on coming with you, in fact demanded, hoping to make a better impression on your friends. You reluctantly agreed. Your mind is racing, knowing that more than likely Jake would be there. You haven’t spoken since that night. The wounds still too fresh. Would you talk tonight? What would you say? Sensing your anxiety, Andy places his hand on your leg, instantly calming you. 

A while later you are pulling up in front of that same house you know so well. A few cars line the streets, but not as many as you expected. It looked to be a small get together rather than a party. You swallow the lump in your throat when you spot Jake’s car in the driveway and open your car door. Andy greets you on the other side, offering his arm to you as you walk up to the porch.

You peek into the front door to make sure it's ok to walk in, and you see people standing around talking quietly near the couch. Danny spots you and rushes over to you, ushering you in, and telling you that Sam will be there any minute. You make your way into the kitchen with the rest of the crew and wait nervously. No sign of Jake just yet, thankfully. 

Andy quickly makes you both drinks and returns to your side, as Danny shushes the small crowd of people. Seconds later you all hear the front door open and smile nervously at each other. As he steps foot into the kitchen the whole group shouts ‘surprise’ and Sam’s signature smile crosses his face. He is happy, and you missed his happy smile. His eyes lock with yours and there is an unspoken conversation had. He is glad you’re here, and you knew you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Maybe things will be okay between the two of you after all. 

This party was different from the last, you knew most everyone here. It made conversing and mingling fun and less daunting. You caught up with old highschool friends and reminisced over the good old days. You missed those days. Days spent in this very house. From across the room you see him. He glides down the stairs and into the living room, taking a look for familiar faces. As your eyes meet, his brow furrows. He looks to Andy, who isn’t paying attention, and turns his head walking away into the kitchen. 

It’s only been three months since you’ve seen him but he looks different now. More…mature. His hair is longer, hanging down past his shoulders. His jaw more pronounced. He has a glow about him that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you find that you positively cannot take your eyes off of him, and even worse, you don’t want to.

The doorbell rings snapping you from your daydreams, and you see Daniel accepting a stack of pizza from the young delivery driver. Thank god, you were starving. You broke away from Andy to help Daniel carry the pizzas to the kitchen. You remembered where the paper plates were so you pulled them from the pantry and set them on the counter. 

Danny looked over to you as he spread the boxes across the empty counters, “Thanks for coming. I know it means a lot to Sam.” he said with a soft smile.

“Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it. I miss you guys.” you reply.

“We miss you too.” he says.

“Where are Karen and Kelly, I’d love to see them?” you ask.

“Oh, they went to see Kelly’s parents for the weekend. Left Jake in charge…” he smirks walking into the living room.

Sam walks into the kitchen, seeing you and pulling you into a bear hug. “I can’t believe you came!”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Of course I came! You’re my best friend!” you laugh.

“Am I? Still?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Sammy… you’ll always be my best friend. That hurts!” you joke.

“Well, good. Don’t tell Danny but you’re still my best friend too.” he whispers. 

You give him another hug, just as Jake comes around the corner. “Thank god, the food is here.” he says.

He nods his head at you as a silent hello. He bites his lip and turns his attention to the boxes on the counter. Grabbing a paper plate he puts two slices on top and hands it to you. “Hmm…just like old times, huh?” he smirks.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right… seems we have been in this situation before.” you smile.

“Ahh, yes except this time you’re not blushing like a school girl because I handed you a plate.” he says with a wink, causing you to, of course, blush.

“Oh, wait, there it is.” he laughs. 

You roll your eyes and walk to the other side of the kitchen. Andy steps in and sees you, motioning to his cup that he was going to get another drink.

Sam grabs his pizza and joins you as you catch up and laugh over the last few months. Surprisingly Jake sticks around too, joining you and Sam. You can feel the air change as he steps into your orbit. The electricity between you pulsing through the space air. 

Andy approaches with his fresh drink and you feel your body tense up. The last time you were with Jake he lashed out, but he promised it wouldn’t happen again. You took a deep breath as he joined your small circle. 

He reached his hand out to shake with Sam, “Hey man, good to see you again, Happy Birthday!” he says politely. This is the Andy you knew, friendly and charismatic. Sam thanks him and turns his attention back to your conversation, but you are distracted by the other two men in front of you that have done nothing but occupy your mind for the past several months. 

Andy reaches his hand out to shake with Jake. He wipes his hand on his dark jeans and returns the handshake. “Hey I’m Andy, nice to meet you.” he says with a smile.

“Jake. Nice to meet you too, thanks for coming out.” he replies.

Okay, all good so far. 

Sam starts a new conversation about when they would resume the tour, and what was coming up this summer. He asked about your summer plans and if you would be around and truthfully you didn’t know. You hadn’t even thought about it yet, but you were pretty sure you would be home for the summer, and secretly hoped they would be too. 

“I guess, it depends, what are you guys going to be doing this summer?” you ask playfully. 

“Actually, we have a long break from May to the end of July, so we will probably be here and in the studio if I had to guess.” Jake interjects. 

“Maybe we can all go to the lake one day, like old times.” you smile.

“Yeah! Let’s do it! Yeah that’s what I want for my birthday! You come to the lake with us again!” Sam begs.

“Okay, okay! I think I can swing it, but I guess I will have to take your real gift back.” you joke. 

“Well I guess you better put that pizza down then.” Andy chides.

You all turn to look at him as he stands there with a smug look. “What?” you ask.

“You need to start working on your summer body, and that…” he says pointing to your plate, “is going to make it worse.” he says, grabbing your arm and pulling you harshly into his side. 

Pulling away from him you look at your plate. You are taken aback. “What do you mean my ‘summer body’, Andy?” you ask confrontationally.

“I think you could slim down before parading around in bikinis all summer, don’t you think?” he replies.

At this point, Sam and Jake’s jaws hang slack, also stunned by Andy’s words. You don’t respond to him, and wait for the topic to change as you step away, tossing your plate into the trash and heading to the upstairs bathroom.

Your cheeks are flushed red, tears threatening to spill as you ascending up the old wooden stairs. You feel sick to your stomach. Do I really look that bad? Is he right?

You step into the bathroom and lock the door behind you. You examine yourself in the mirror, really taking a look at yourself. You don’t feel like you look that bad, but could it just be distorted perception? Maybe you don't look as good as you thought? Tears roll down your cheeks as you replay the conversation in your head. Why did he have to say that in front of them? Was this his way of marking his territory? You thought he loved you how you were? Why do you need to change your body?

Your cheeks are red and splotchy as you wipe away the wetness on your face. You clear your throat and fix your hair as you turn to unlock the bathroom door and rejoin the party, hoping no one notices your red eyes. 

As you step into the hallway a hand grabs your arm, pulling you into the bedroom next door. You would know that touch anywhere. The door shuts behind you as you see his face. 

You stand there silently, trying not to make eye contact with him. You don’t want him to see your tears. 

“Don’t hide from me. I know you were crying. I heard you.” he whispers.

“I wasn’t. I’m fine.” you lie, turning your face away from him.

“You’re a bad liar, you know.” he says, the corners of his mouth turning upward.

He moves his hand to turn your chin to look at him, and he sees the glossiness coating your red rimmed eyes, causing his brows to furrow. “Don’t listen to him. He’s wrong. There is nothing wrong with you. You are beautiful. Perfect even. He’s a fool if he doesn’t see what he has right in front of him.” he says, a look of seriousness on his face.

You cast your eyes down, focusing on the necklace that hangs underneath his shirt. 

“Look at me.” he demands, and you flick your eyes upwards. His hand moves to rest at your neck. The heat from his hand burns into your skin. 

“Why do you let him treat you like this?” he asks.

“Like what?” you ask, feigning ignorance. 

“You know what. Putting his hands on you, talking down to you…” he replies. 

“He isn’t usually like that.” you say, pleading with him.

“Really, because both times I have been around him, he has been like that and you’ve been upset.” he says.

You don’t answer, biting your cheek at the realization of his observations. 

“Are you happy?” he asks. “If you are, I won’t bring it up again. I’m as good as gone. But I know you, and I don’t think you are.” he says, sliding his hand from your neck down your arm.

You pull your arms across your chest and look down at the floor. “Jake…I–”

Your eyes flash up to his and are met with sadness. There is a long pause of silence between you before he finally speaks, “Okay…” he says, as he steps around you, twisting the handle and walking out of the bedroom. 

You back yourself against the closed door and let the tears fall again. Your heart aches in your chest. Had you just told him it’s over? Really over? You are immediately left feeling like there is a hole in your chest. Panic washes over you. What did you do?

You pull yourself together, looking at yourself in the small mirror on the wall in Jake’s bedroom. You make your way down stairs and notice that the party has moved into the basement. Descending the second set of stairs you see Andy playing beer pong with some guys and notice that he has clearly had more to drink since you left him. His words are slurring and his balance off kilter. 

You walk over to him and tell him that you are back, and he moves you to the side as he ignores your hug, lining himself up for his next shot. Feeling slightly rejected you wander off for a bit talking to Elle, and your friend Sarah from highschool. Jake is on the opposite side of the room, and occasionally your eyes meet his, hoping he could hear what you were screaming in your brain. ‘No, I’m not happy. He’s not you!’  You’re sure that if he could hear you he would run to you, no questions asked. His eyes are sad, and his demeanor has changed. You can tell that he is hurting just as much as you are.

The guys at the beer pong table erupt into loud cheers as the final ball is sunk into the red plastic cup. Of course Andy won, you haven’t seen him lose yet. You smile and shake your head as he approaches you with a huge smug grin.

“Successful as always I see…” you say.

“You know I never lose…had to show these idiots who’s in charge here…” he slurs. He tosses back the rest of the drink in his cup, before disappearing upstairs to inevitably get another. 

“These idiots? These are my friends Andy…” you snap back.

“Ahhh whatever…” he replies haphazardly.

As the night progresses the crowd gets more and more rowdy, losing sight of their inside voices and resulting in full on yelling conversations. Andy is no exception. He has kept his arm around you all night, never letting you stray too far from his side. When you asked to go to the bathroom he told you to ‘come straight back’ to which you replied with an eye roll. When his fist tightened on your shoulder you flinched in pain and pulled away, wincing.

“Andy, stop.” you say.

“No, I’m tired of you running off all the time. You’re my girlfriend. Act like it.” he says gripping your arm as you struggle to pull it away.

“Oh stoppp, you’re fine…” he slurs. 

Sam steps over noticing the interaction, “Hey, what’s up guys?” he says, trying to break the obvious tension.

“Nothing, she is just drunk and being dramatic as usual.” Andy chides.

Sam bites his tongue as you finally break free and begin to walk away, practically sprinting up the stairs. You rub the spot on your arm, sure to leave fresh bruises.

Why is he like this? 

Maybe Jake is right…

You make your way to the bathroom to relieve yourself, before finding yourself hesitating to go back to the basement. Instead you make your way to the kitchen, making yourself a drink. You fill the cup with mostly vodka, and a splash of cranberry, hoping the vodka will numb the feeling in your chest. 

Your legs carry you outside onto the deck, taking comfort in the familiar old wicker chair. Relaxing into it you sip your drink. The sound of the music inside reduced to a dull buzz. Your head falls back staring up at the dark sky. You miss this about Frankenmuth. In fact, there is a lot you miss about Frankenmuth. It’s home. They are home. 

You continue to sip your drink, letting the cool wind carry away your cares, and letting the vibration of the music lull you to sleep. You hear voices and your eyes pop open. How long was I sleep? Oh god, where is Andy?

You pull yourself up from the chair, dashing inside and seeing that 30 minutes has passed, but the house is mostly cleared out. Rushing down to the basement you see Josh in the corner talking to someone he has roped into one of his long winded discussions. But more to your surprise you see Andy, passed out on the couch. You walk over to him and shake him to wake him up, but he doesn’t budge. His phone lights up on his stomach, showing a few missed texts from a name you don’t recognize. You pick it up to put it on the coffee table as another comes through.

Rebecca: Miss you too. When do you get back? I can come over that night. ;)

What?

You click on the text and see that they have been talking all night, and actually for much much longer than that. A sick feeling washes over you. How long has this been going on? Pushing the thought from your head you drag yourself upstairs to find one more drink, desperate to forget this entire night. 

Your hand shakily pours the vodka into the plastic cup, as your eyes scan the counter for any type of mixer. When you find that mostly everything is empty you sigh and let your head hang in defeat. You just can't win.

JAKE POV

As you stumble into the kitchen, you see her. Standing at the counter attempting to pour herself a drink. As she picks up empty bottles of mixers you see her hang her head and a sigh leave her chest. You’ve never seen her drink this much, and you know that she is still upset about earlier. You find yourself in a similar predicament. How are you supposed to feel when the girl you love chooses to be with someone else? Someone that treats her the way he does.  

You’ve watched him all night. Observed him, really. You know guys like him. Puts on a cool guy front around people but acts differently behind closed doors, or in this case when he has a little too much to drink. You don’t like him, and you certainly don’t trust him. Especially with her.

You quietly open the pantry door, pulling out a warm can of Lime LaCroix, “Will this work?” you call across the kitchen. 

Her head snaps over to you, as you lift the can in her direction and her gaze softens, “Yes… Thank you.” 

You make your way over to her, pulling the tab on the can and pouring it over the ice and vodka. You watch it fizz in the cup as she leans against the counter to face you.

“I’m guessing he is driving?” you ask. 

She grabs the drink and looks at you, “Well, since he is passed out in your basement, I don’t have high hopes.” she says with a soft smile.

I knew it was too quiet around here…

She walks into the living room and you follow close behind. She sits on the old couch, sinking into its plush cushions. You take a seat in the chair next to her, propping your favorite dirty boots up on the coffee table. Just as you go to speak, Sam walks into the room to see both of you.

“Well, Elle is down for the count…” he laughs.

“Yeah, we were just discussing my drunk date passed out in your basement.” she says, shaking her head.

“He was supposed to drive…” you say to Sam, rolling your eyes. Both of you nodding in unspoken agreement that the guy is a prick.

“I am not sure how I am supposed to get him back to the AirBnB…” she jokes.

In unison you and Sam both reply, “Stay here.”

She laughs thinking you are joking, before she realizes you’re serious. 

“Really, you have been drinking. Stay here, please. I will worry if you don’t.” Sam says, flashing his big brown puppy dog eyes at her, that you know she can’t say no to.

“He’s right…” you say, tipping your head towards her.

Please stay. Let me talk to you for a while…

You can tell she’s thinking about it. The tiny crease between her eyebrows has always been her dead giveaway, and this was no exception. Her brow relaxes and she looks at both of you.

“Alright, but only if one of you gets drunk with me.” she smiles.

“Oh, not me. I already have to take care of Elle who thinks I came down here for water.” he laughs.

“Guess that leaves me…” you reply. “I’m halfway there anyways…”

She tips her cup to her lips, drinking down the alcohol, shuddering at the hefty pour of vodka. You watch as it travels down her throat, and you feel a tingle flash through your chest. 

“Goodnight, see you two in the morning!” Sam says, cheerfully walking off.

She watches him walk away before turning her attention to you, your eyes already fixed on her.

The house is quiet, the soft snores from upstairs are the tell tale sign that Josh is sleeping soundly.

“I’ll be right back…” you say, standing up and walking towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“Shhhhh… give me a second.” you smile before quietly walking up the stairs. You step into your room and open your wooden cigar box pulling out the joint you rolled this afternoon. You close the box and walk back down the stairs, happy to find her sitting in the same spot you left her.

You walk over to her and stand in front of her, pulling the joint from your shirt pocket. You wiggle it between your fingers as you extend your hand to help her up. She takes it and joins you as you make your way to the back door. 

You open the door letting her out as you follow behind her. The air has grown colder since sunset and you know she will be cold soon. This probably won't last long. As she sits in her favorite chair, you take the seat next to her. It feels good to be here with her. Somehow things are different out here. In this spot both of you can be open with each other. Talk. Tell the truth.

You light the joint, and pass it to her, letting her hit it first. You take turns passing it back and forth in the silence as you typically do until you’ve both had your fill. You tap the end between your fingers, extinguishing the smoldering end. 

“You know, I was out here earlier…” she says, staring off into the dark field. “I was just staring at the sky. I miss it here. It’s the only place I can see the stars.”

“When we were gone I missed it too. There is something different about this place.” you say. Theres a beat of silence between the two of you.

She tilts her head back staring up again, “Did you miss me when you were gone?” she asks. 

“Everyday. I told you that.” you reply.

“I think I thought about you every single day. I knew I shouldn’t, but I did.” she says. You know she is faded when she starts to tell her own secrets and you usually stop her, but this time you let her.

“Why?” you ask.

“You are just always there. In my mind, taking a walk through every memory.” she answers. You know exactly what she means. Every memory you replay in your head is somehow about her.

“Just tell me if you’re happy…Does he really make you happy?” you ask.

“I think so…” she answers, but you can tell by the inflection of her voice that she is lying. You’ve always been able to tell. 

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.” you say, turning your head to her. 

She turns to look at you, eyes glossy and heavy, “We have happy moments, but it’s not always like that. I don’t think he will ever truly make me happy. No one could. But that’s only because they’ll never be you…” and as the words leave her lips she turns her face back to the sky. Her sentiments are like a dagger to the heart.

You sip your drink in silence until it’s empty, letting her words roll around in your head until they find a soft place to land. 

“He is texting some other girl…” she says, barely a whisper from her lips. A drunken confession.

“What?” you shoot back.

“His phone. I saw it. When I went back down to the basement earlier. I saw him passed out on the couch, his phone laying there. I saw the texts. That’s when you found me in the kitchen.” she slurs.

Your face heats with anger. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“I wish. The joke of it all is that he tells me how lucky I am to be with someone like him… I don’t feel very lucky right now.” she says finishing her drink.

“God, you don’t deserve this! Why don’t you see it! We all see it!” you say, raising your voice.

“He’s not usually like this!” she replies.

“How many times does he have to do it before it becomes the usual!? Let me guess, he tells you that ‘you’ll never find someone better than him?’ ‘No one that loves you like he does?’” you ask.

“Jake… please.” she says, clearly flustered. She knows you’re right. 

“I’m sorry. I just… can’t stand to see you being treated like this.” you say.

“I wish things were different.” she whispers.

“Me too.” you reply.

You sit in silence for a little while longer, before you notice her shivering from the cold. The alcohol and weed have made her numb to it, but you know she is cold and her body is showing it. You remove your blue corduroy overshirt and toss it to her, “Here, you’re shivering.”

She gratefully accepts it and you watch as she slides her arms through, seeing the dark purple mark on the inside of her arm. She pulls it tight across her chest accepting the warmth it's holding in its fibers. A fire burns through your chest seeing her in your clothes. You’re positive she’s never looked more beautiful.

“You have bruises…” you question.

“I think sometimes he doesn’t realize he’s doing it.” She offers.

Lie. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Marking her, manipulating her.

“Do you want to go in? I think the fire is still going in the fireplace…” you ask.

“Yeah, but I will probably fall asleep.” she smiles.

“Well I can let you go to sleep? You take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” you say.

“Nooo, Jake I can’t take your bed. This is your house!” she replies.

“But I want you to.” you reply honestly, knowing that the scent of her on your pillow will linger for days.

“Just come talk to me on the couch for a little while longer.” she asks, and you know you’d do anything she asked when she looked at you like that.

“Lead the way…” you smile back at her. 

You spend the next hour talking about her school, your tour and anything else you can come up with, but you see the light in her eyes fading. She has progressively sunken further and further into you on the couch as the minutes have passed. As her head finally dips to rest on your shoulder, you know she’s dozing off. Feeling her soft breath on your shoulder, you let her sleep for a while. You scroll through your phone until the fire completely dies and the clock reads 1:00.

As you go to slide from underneath her, you position yourself in front of her, tapping her shoulder. “Hey, you want to go sleep in my bed?” You whisper.

“No, I’ll sleep here. You go.” she replies, voice groggy, and laced with alcohol.

Knowing that she isn’t going to go of her own free will, you decide for her, scooping her into your arms. Her eyes open wide as she realizes what’s happening, and instinctively wraps her arms around your neck.

“What are you doing! Put me down!” she whispers.

“Shhhh.” You whisper into her hair. You reach the top of the steps and open your bedroom door, stepping inside and laying her on top of the quilt. You untie her shoes, placing them at the foot of the bed. 

She opens her eyes and sits up, looking around the room. She slides your shirt off of her arms and lays it next to her. “Got anything a little more… comfy?” she asks.

You can’t help the smile that pulls across your lips, as you open your dresser drawer and pull out a tee shirt. You open it up to see which one it is, and nod, throwing it over to her. 

She catches it and looks at it, flashing you a knowing grin. “Oh I bet you’re loving this aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am.” you answer. 

You grab yourself some clothes and an extra blanket, “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

“Wait!” she says, stopping you in your tracks. You turn to look at her.

“Um… can you stay in here for a little while?” she asks, practically melting your heart. She doesn’t want you to leave her yet.

“If you want me to?” you say, throwing the blanket over your desk chair.

“Okay.” she replies, nodding her head. 

You make your way to the door, and you see her brow furrow. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back, I promise.” you laugh. You can see her cheeks blush pink. Your favorite color in the world.

You flash her a smile and close the bedroom door. You make your way to the bathroom, changing out of your clothes and pulling on a pair of shorts. You brush your teeth and try not to seem too eager about returning to the girl in your room. 

As you quietly pad down the hallway your mind jumps back to Andy passed out in your basement. You can't believe he would ever dream of talking to another girl. The perfect woman was right in front of him. Why couldn't he see that?

As you gently turn the door knob, you enter the room, seeing her curled up on your pillow. ‘Greta Van Fleet’ displayed across her chest. Your heart clenches in your chest at the sight of her in your bed, with your band on her shirt. A dream realized, in the wrong circumstances. 

“Just sit with me for a little while?” she asks. “Or, unless you don’t want to. You’re probably tired too, I don’t–” you cut her off.

“I want to. Promise.” you say, pulling the desk chair to the side of the bed, sitting and extending your legs up onto the side of the bed. It’s quiet for a few minutes as you stare at each other. Her eyes start to grow heavy, as she whispers your name. “Jake?” 

Your eyes meet hers, and you nod. 

“Will you play me a song…” she asks. You’re fairly confident you’ve waited your whole life for her to ask this question, but now that the moment is here you don’t know what to play.

“I have to be quiet, but I will show you something I have been working on?” you ask.

“Okay…” she whispers, eyes closed, face pushed into the pillow.

You grab your new twelve string from the corner, a gift from the label after your first tour, and begin softly strumming the strings. The notes float around the room like twinkling stars in the sky, lulling her to sleep, not even knowing the song is about her. 

When her eyes fully shut, you quietly place the guitar back on the stand, and turn off the lamp. You pull the quilt up over her shoulders and brush the hair from her face. You look at her, even in the darkness of the room, and wonder how one person could be so beautiful.

As you step away, you grab the door knob and you hear her. “Jake?”

“Yeah?” you answer.

“Stay with me.” she says.

“What?” you ask.

“Come back. Come here.” she whispers. 

You walk back over to the bed and feel her hand searching for yours in the dark. Her fingers glide over the top of your hand, feeling the warm skin. “Will you stay here? Stay with me?” she asks nervously.

“Are you sure…” you ask. 

“It’s the only thing I’m sure about.” she says. 

You pull your shirt over your head, and toss it on the chair, climbing into the bed to lay behind her. You will admit you weren’t looking forward to sleeping on the couch, but never did you imagine you’d end your night this way. 

Pulling yourself under the quilt you can feel the heat of her legs radiating onto yours. You turn over to your side to face her back, and move the pillow under your head, a sigh releasing from your chest.

You feel her moving as her body rolls to face you. A tiny bit of moonlight peeks through the blinds at the foot of the bed, allowing you to see her face.

Her hand reaches out and tucks your long hair behind your ear, before resting it in front of her chest. You can feel the tension between the two of you. This is as close as you have ever been to her. Your body calling out to kiss her since that night at the graduation party. You needed her, and here she was. But she wasn't yours to kiss.  

You grab her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her finger tips, “Go to sleep, love.” you whisper.

Her fingers work to intertwine with yours but you release her from your grip knowing if you touch her for too long you won't be able to stop. Instead she pulls herself closer to you, snaking her arm around your waist and holding you. You know right then, that she wants you just as bad as you want her. You know it's probably just the alcohol in her system making her brave, but you revel in it, and enjoy the closeness of her, the smell of her hair against your nose and the feel of her bare legs against yours. You wrap your arm around her waist, clad in just your tshirt and her underwear, pulling her into you further, groaning as her face nuzzles into your neck. She fits with you perfectly, and you wish you could freeze this moment. You aren’t sure if you imagined it, but you think you felt her lips flutter across your neck ever so slightly sending a shiver through your body. Minutes later, you hear her breathing even out, feel the soft rise and fall of her chest, and you know she's out. 

You lay there for a while, taking in every second of this moment. A moment that shouldn’t be happening, but by some miracle was. Your eyes grow tired but you fight it, knowing in the morning this will have to end. When you can't fight it any longer you place a soft kiss on her forehead, letting your eyes close with her wrapped in your arms. 

Sometime around 6AM you heard the bathroom door shut a little too hard, waking you from your sleep. You know this is Josh sending your twin signal for something impending, but you ignore it.  You feel her next to you, on top of you, all over you in fact. Her head is laying on your arm, while her right arm and leg are slung across your body. She is cuddled into your side in ways you have only dreamt of, causing you to grow hard beneath her. Not wanting this moment to end you roll to your side, pulling her close once more, before drifting back to sleep.

When you awoke the second time, it was far less pleasant. Your bedroom door is being thrown open, and your eyes spring wide at the sound. Your vision is blurry still as your eyes adjust to the daylight coming in through the window. She untangles herself from you as she sits up in the bed, pulling the quilt up to cover her.

“Oh, fucking of course. Should have fucking known.” Andy yells, seeing her laying next to you. 

“Andy, stop it’s not what it looks like.” she replies, jumping up out of the bed and walking over to him.

“Oh fuck you, I don’t believe that for a second!” he yells in her face. 

“Hey man, calm down. She’s telling the truth. She was drunk, and not feeling good, and asked me to stay with her since you were passed out in my basement. Nothing happened.” you say, trying to ease the tension.

“Andy, really, I swear it’s–” she starts before he cuts her off.

“You’re a slut, you know that?” he says barreling through the door, and down the stairs.

“Hey!” you yell, throwing the quilt off of you and pulling on your shirt. How dare he talk to her like that.

“I knew you’d sleep with him eventually....you’re such a whore. Embarrassing really…” he yells.

You are flying down the stairs as fast as your feet can take you, You grab her hand and pull her behind you. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that. Get the fuck out of my house! Don’t ever come back here again.” you yell to him, pointing to the door. 

He charges at you, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her to his side, “She’s leaving here with me. She is mine and you’d do well to remember that. If you ever touch her again I will make sure it's the last thing those precious hands ever touch.” he threatens.

It takes everything in you to not bash his face in right there and she can see it written all over your face. “She isn’t going any fucking where with you, ever again!” you reply reaching for her. 

She looks at you and shakes her head ‘no’. She’s scared of how he will react. Her eyes well with tears as she struggles to pull away from his grip on her own.

“Let me go Andy!” she yells, his grip tightening on her arm.

Hearing the commotion, Sam comes tearing down the stairs. As he reaches the base of the steps he shouts, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Let her go!” 

“Andy, please you are overreacting!” she pleads, desperately struggling to get away from him.

Fed up with her he screams into her face, “Shut up! Quit fucking speaking!” raising his hand to strike her across the face. As she flinches away from him, you and Sam both spring into action before he makes contact. 

Andy releases his grip on her, and sets his sights on Sam charging towards him in order to deliver a swift punch to his jaw. Sam works valiantly to defend himself from Andy’s relentless onslaught, and defend her honor as he fights him through the front door, slamming it behind him and twisting the lock.  

As it all went down she ran to you. She knew you would never stop if you laid a finger on him. She clung to you to protect her. She stood half clothed and clinging to your chest, sobbing in your arms as she listened to the man who told her he loved her, call her vile names and attack her best friend. She shook in your arms as you held her tightly to you, until it finally went silent.

Sam returned to you both, hands bloody from holding his dripping mouth, riddled with shock as he tries to process what happened. As he watches her cling to you, his eyes meet yours in silent question. With a gentle nod of your head you answer, and it was at that moment Sam finally knew. 

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Chapter 4

Taglist: @gretavansara @jordierama @starshine-wagner @gretavanfvckface @gretavanmoon @gvfjess @misshunnybeebee @fretaganvleet @gvfpal @joshkiszkas @ascendingtostardust @raviolilegs @sammysprincess @gvfpal @objectsinspvce

[sharpbutsoft]

So I know you do digital art, but The Hanged fireMan looks like a watercolor. Do you work with watercolors as well, or is it the program you use?

(please brag about your art process, basically)

Yeah! So I do all my (fan)art in everyone’s favourite innuendo of an art program, Procreate. (Specifically on a 2019 ipad pro with a 1st gen Apple Pencil, both of which I would tentatively recommend if you can get them 2nd hand for less than 200euro like I did)

I did a lot of painting as a teenager, and still paint often to this day. Though I mostly worked in acrylics, I have been known to use watercolours (like, when I was in college I bought a little 3euro paint set and would use the inside of cardboard cereal boxes as diy watercolour paper and paint wild little Irish landscapes… and Winter Soldier fan art, sometimes. 2017 was a different world)

So in summary - I ‘paint’ digitally using some very traditional techniques I picked up over the years, and I kinda prefer digital art now, which I will elaborate on below the cut as I detail how I created The Hanged fireMan…

I’ll start with my favourite digital art ‘cheat’ which is that I use So Many Layers. Like seriously, pretty much every new colour goes on its own layer because I am a control freak and love being able to tweak them all as needed. So for this relatively simplistic piece, I’ve still got something like 20 layers all together.

I’m also usually better at grouping layers but in this one I gave up at some point and it felt dishonest to group them nicely before showing you guys lol

So yeah layers is my biggest hack, but the other is using specific texture brushes

I spent a while playing around with various brushes before finding this Tarraleah one which has just the most delicious watercolour-y texture and a really fun edge to it (and it’s got pressure sensitivity, so I can really control the amount of colour I want to put down on the page)

This background was painted entirely with the 1 brush & colour, and I think it turned out pretty cool. For this particular piece I did have a reference on screen to work off for the most part, but those clouded were just painted with my heart

Next (or maybe before, it’s a while sinceI drew this and sometimes I mix it up) is the lines, which are always done with my best friend, the Procreate Pencil!! I love her, she’s so fuzzy and textured and also if you tilt the tip on the pencil you get a broader line (like with a real pencil) which is just the coolest thing!

When it comes to lines I just sort of go for bigger shapes 1st and details later, and basically always with some kind of reference. I also use a very old & well known trick of putting the most detail into the object of most importance, and leaving the background more loose and vibey

Artists will tell you that this is to draw focus with details. Artists are lying. It’s cause we got lazy after drawing he fun part & phoned the rest of it in lol (I know this because I am an artist)

Also I love this pencil because I don’t have very steady hands and I actually cannot draw straight/smooth lines to save my life! If you’ve ever seen anything resembling a smooth line in something I’ve drawn, it is almost certainly a whole bunch of lines over each other and then erased at the edges to make it look neater

But who needs straight lines when sketchy sketch lines are so fun!

Next is flat colours (the 3layers in the middle with check marks beside them)

I used the same colours as the background, which you can tell from where they completely blend together right down the bottom, and what I genuinely do is use the Tarraleah brush to generally block out he shape, and then go back in with an eraser and smooth out the lines

Why do I do this? …good question

Next is one of my favourite parts, which is adding the lights! Procreate has some really fun -glowy- layer effects - my favourite is probably Add (A) though Colour Burn (CB) is great too for its vibrancy.

Also those 2 layer 11s are there because I duplicated one and then used the ‘Gaussian Blur’ feature to ‘fuzzify’ it (yes, that’s the technical term) It’s a pretty quick and easy way to add a more diffused light effect around something. (I did the same for the yellow reflective strips on the turnouts too!)

Last step now! So full disclosure - I absolutely traced that writing from a photo of a tarot card lol. I actually always trace writing, as, much like drawing straight lines, I’m bad at handwriting on a screen

I also stumbled upon the Exclusion (E) effect by accident - Originally it was going to be a plain cream boarder like a traditional tarot card had, but I wasn’t fully happy with it, so I just flipped through a few layer effects and as soon as I got to this one, I knew it was the right choice

I love the dreamy contrast of the pinks and purples to the dark navy and grey & how it makes everything looks kinda unreal and outer-spacey

And yeah that’s about it! Everything else comes from my 15+ years of Practical Art Knowledge but these are the specifics of how I utilise it digitally!

This was a lot of fun to write out, and I hope that if you’ve made it all the way here, it was fun to read too!

[writers-potion]

Let's write about killers, serial killers, habitual murderers and getting away with crime! In order to write about these experienced ones, of course, we need to know how to COVER UP A MURDER:

01. Getting Rid of Evidence ☾🩸

Do not leave any DNA behind: Choose a place where there's going to be a lot of other people's DNA from strangers.

Oxygen bleach: These detergents are the best for removing blood stains.

Wear proper gear: goggles, latex gloves, covered shoes

Don't take anything from the body

Clean up.

Leave the body alone: don't touch or move it! It could have just been an accident...right?

Hide the victim's identity also is possible. Set fire to the whole scene.

02. Location/Target 🏠

Be random: A larger number of crimes are committed by someone known/close to the victim. The police will have a significantly harder time if your victim is COMPLETELY A STRANGER TO YOU.

Pick the soically weak: Prostitutes, illegal immigrants, etc. tend to be reluctant to go to the police.

Commit the crime in another city.

Leave the police's mean area of interest - but don't travel so far that they'll start to get suspicious of you intentionally leaving.

Choose a place without a lot of traffic.

Don't travel too long before the crime - you may get tired

03. Type of Crime 🔪

Consider the timing. Night or day? What's the best in this situation?

Shooting? Stabbing?

Poison? Burning? Crucification?

Bomb? Stricking? Fire?

Using your hands vs. A weapon?

04. Timing ⏰

Look like you are not out of place on the street

The best time to commit a crie is in the very early hours of the day when most poeple are asleep.

05. Tools 🔧

Thick gloves are a must

Buy tools at least 1 month before committing the crime

Pay in cash

Destroy any receipts or shopping bag

After the crime is committd, destroy everything you bought as quickly as you can.

Don't buy any brands you typically use, unless they are very generic.

Stagger your purchases - no bulk buying

Shop out of town in large department stores.

06. Alibi 📄

Plan an out of town trip and book everything with your credit car

Stay in a hotel with no cameras.

Sign up for events to attend. Hire someone to check in with your name if possible.

Return home as normal the next day

07. The Getaway 🚗

The best mode of transport is by bike. Travel quickly without being tracked.

Don't be seen walking on the street nearby

08. The Aftermath🏃

Continue about your everyday ife.

No emotional display: Police look for behavioral evidence like anger, sexuality, lust, insecurity, etc.

Don't talk - no braggin, no drunk crime talk.

Don't watch the television or any kind of media for at least a month. The police can use these as tools to psych you out.

If you get arrested, do not speak. No one knows better than you.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee! ☕

🖱️References

https://www.top-criminal-justice-schools.net/murder/

https://www.theguardian.com/how-to-solve-a-murder-a-detectives-dilemma/ng-interactive/2017/apr/14/coverups-crime-evidence-dna-criminal-justice

[littlethingwithfeathers]

I'm grumpy about Silent Hill again...

TW for discussions of suicide, self harm, abuse (both parent to child and amongst peers) and general spookiness. Y'know... the usual Silent Hill rigmarole of trauma and despair. Also be warned that I'm going to spoil a lot of the Silent Hill series, in particular Silent Hill 2 and the Short Message game that just came out. ***

So... one of my most popular posts out there is this one. It's about Pyramid head and the loss of subtlety in media. And I couldn't help but feel like we hadn't moved an inch from when I posted that back in... *checks date on post* hrrk. my bones... 2017. I'm going to die soon. Anyway. Today I watched Second Wind do a run of the short, free-to-play Silent Hill: Short Message. I admittedly had a good bit of trepidation going in just because of the marketing. Which, for all of you marketing majors out there, that is called "Not a good sign." Marketing should make you want to play a game... especially if you're a fan of the series already. But this... it was a bit of a wet blanket, largely due to the fact that it spoiled a lot of the focus of the game. It basically said "this is a game about how bullying and being chronically online is real bad. We're gonna be spooky about it now." And... straining to push aside how incredibly reductive that is... why give it away? Why say it out loud? Why did you tell us what you are doing? Can you imagine Silent Hill 2 if we'd known it was about James killing his wife from the jump? We didn't. We hadn't the first clue. We knew nothing other than that he was looking for her and she was maybe dead? But we didn't know how... possibly lung cancer or TB given that she had the most pointed coughing sequence since the movie Tombstone. And hey... the last game had someone looking for a loved one too. Maybe that's the deal with Silent Hill. Who knows? No one did at that point. It was still a big old mystery for the most part. And then the E3 trailer... like there's the weird pretty lady in jail? But what's she talking about? Who the fuck is Mary? Is that... his wife? Well then who the hell is Ms. Miniskirt? No wait... is that his wife in the VHS tape? What the hell is going on? Oh look gameplay! And... a little girl? And a weird guy with a gun... This soundtrack slaps. I'm gonna go see if it's up on Napster yet. (this was 2001... again... my bones etc) I remember combing over low-res copies of that video for HOURS when it came out. Why are the nurses different? It's not snowing? Who are all these people... And why do they all sound like they put ketamine in their coffee. It was like a great big puzzle to work out and we had a ball theorizing and researching so when it came out we were HYPE. And that was largely because in short... we knew SOME things at release. Fog. Nurses. Big stick. Weird people. Banger soundtrack. Dead (but probably not) wife. And we presumed or supposed more... cult activity? New beasties? Radio maybe? But we effectively knew nothing about the plot. And the best part was, while they had a solid hook (Find dead lady who we love so huggy buggy much) and instant intrigue (Angela in the cemetery being weirder than a film by David Lynch), and a very familiar setting (we may have improved draw distance on the PS2, but we don't have to use it!), we still didn't really know what was going on. The plot was essentially unfolding out of a black box. Silent Hill 2 was quite content to be a slower burn than trying to boil the Lake Superior with a signal flare. You don't even see the main "villain" Pyramid Head until a few hours in and, as I pointed out in that other post, there's no flashy cut scene to introduce him and go WOOOOOO SCARYYYYY. He's just chillin' behind some prison bars (which that totes is normal in an apartment complex) and staring at you like I stare at the inside of my fridge when I really would like some cheese to materialize.

And then... like we're not even really sure what the hell is going on for the longest time. We meet our wife's hot twin with the key to a strip club and she keeps getting killed over and over... and things keep getting increasingly rapey and lewd in a way that's just uncomfortable more than anything... But even at the end. Even with the big reveal of "You killed your wife." they still don't ever explicitly state "And you killed her because you couldn't have sex with her anymore." It wasn't until you finished the game, and talked to someone else about it, or let your brain cook on it for a bit that you went... heyyyy... he's a horndog! (In fact... if I'm going to chide SH2 for anything it's that right at the very VERY end they tried to frame James's actions as understandable because the woman who was dying and frightened and in pain was mean to him. Yes, being a caretaker is hard. But Christ... pick a topic for discussion.) But contrast all that with Short Message. The marketing and such all said out loud "THIS IS ABOUT BULLYING" so even going in... I was already like "yep. The bully is probably us, but we had reasons because we have to be complicated and you aren't allowed to make the player feel bad" And lo was I correct. There was no... intrigue. I was never curious about the character or the people around her because I knew this story. They already told me what story they were telling so I could practically sing along, especially as a millennial that had to grow up watching little videos and skits in school about the evils of bullying. And when you are going to tell a trope-ish story, and you tell the audience what the trope is, it becomes "say the line" writ large. This isn't me advocating for super twisty unexpected plot arcs (looking at you, Supernatural). Far from it. You absolutely should tell a story in such a way that the audience understands how you got from point A to point Z, even if there are some surprises along the way (See Sixth Sense for that masterclass). Rather, what I'm missing from this (and frankly a lot of the Silent Hill games and honestly... media in general these days) is a sense of restraint. A sense of trust in their audience to "get it." They can't just plonk us in the fog with a radio and a stick and say "You're here to find your best friend/dog/cousin/wife/business partner. Good luck. Here's a weirdo to prattle cryptically at you in order to unsettle you immediately. Bye!" No! They have to tell us what kind of story they're telling and what themes are important. They can't just... give us a Silent Hill Game and trust that we know what to do with it. It's... insulting frankly. Especially as a longtime fan of the franchise who remembers when they did trust us and they did have faith in their work. I will say this in compliment to Short Message. The environment design was pretty cool. Especially the sticky-note hallways... they looked like leaves... and sometimes teeth... and like tightly packed bones in an ossuary. It didn't... say anything really. But it looked cool. And you can't go wrong with Akira Yamaoka's soundtrack. But... while I'm on the subject of design. Y'all. An animate sakura tree in an oversized hoodie is not scary. But bless you for at least having the restraint to not make her Pyramid Head.

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the comics: BEMIS. Part 1

READING THINGS SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO! 

Alright, I covered "Age of Khonshu" and honestly was so incensed that I had to make a post talking about it. 

So let's get this other bread (and burn it). 

A lot of new Moon Knight fans have heard the cry when asked what to read and where to get started. And true fans everywhere agree: DON'T READ BEMIS. 

And there are long posts and screams and sobbing about why not to read it that come out to "It's so bad!" 

But there are the curious out there. They want to know why it's bad. They want to know what happened. And...well... 

It spans a few issues. I…I was foolish and thought “I can do this in one go! How long can this take? I don’t want to spend that much time on BEMIS.” ….I forgot that doing one of these usually takes me the better part of a day to cover ONE issue. 

I’m going to break this up into Four (fuck you Tumblr) parts and cover both volumes instead of a post per issue. I don’t want Bemis to take up that much space so prepare for a few VERY LONG posts. 

Let's ruin my month! (AKA: Watch me slowly descend into blind rage). 

Marvel Legacy: Moon Knight. 2017. Issues 188-200. 

Part 1: Crazy Runs in the Family.  (Issues 188-193) Published: November 08, 2017

Written by: Max Bemis

Art by: Jacen Burrows

Editor: Jeff Youngquist 

Let's start with: 

WHO IS MAX BEMIS? 

Oh my god he's in a band. He's the lead singer for the rock band "Say Anything". 

My level of disappointment just doubled. 

According to his bio: He was raised in a 'strong Jewish environment'. His grandparents survived the Holocaust. All this has inspired his music. 

(I can't even begin to tell you how much actually looking up who he is has made me ten times angrier). 

In 2013 he started to write comics. More importantly, he wrote for characters that suffered different mental health issues. ('Polarity' at Boom! Studios about a hero with bipolar disorder). 

He then ended up at Marvel. 

For his personal life: He has bipolar disorder and self medicates with drugs (Marijuana). 

He also self identifies as "A Jew who is also a Christian", which he considers a "New age, metaphysical view" on religion. 

Good. Great. Fantastic. Now I know who this man is and I hate him even more. 

What's even funnier? Apparently his music fans ALSO hate him because he's "a sanctimonious hypocrite". 

Seriously, there's a whole Reddit page on why he's a terrible person. I'm not going to site any sources because I can't fact check a lot of those claims and maybe they are false or maybe they are true. I'm not here to slander a life. I'm here to talk about Moon Knight. 

I’ve procrastinated enough. Let’s go…. 

We open on "Ravencroft Asylum". Good start. 

We see a Doctor Emmett talking to a patient in a locked cell that's stylized like a prison interrogation cell. 

"You say remembering your youth is like looking through a layer of Jell-O. Were do things become lucid? When did you become yourself?" 

(I already hate it). 

"I learned who I was in the army, that much is clear." The patient responds. 

"I get it. The army. The incident. Aside from the physical, what did you walk away with on the day you hurt them?" The doctor looks at the files. 

And the patient is hesitant to speak on it, but he tells her that "In the army, I learned that there is a God." 

He talks about how he saw God 'in his fire' and that non-believers, atheists, skeptics, and all that are wrong. How they can't understand how big God is. 

(And now I remember when I first read this how uncomfortable this first issue made me.) 

"They weren't very nice to me in the Army, but why would they be? I had to show them I was more devoted, more significant than they were." 

I'm going to put a pause on this right here after just two pages. There are some Trigger Warnings that need to be discussed real quick. 

I grew up in the deep south and I’ve legit heard talk like this in real life. It’s terrifying. 

I knew a lot of 'born again' Christians who tried to 'save my soul'. 

This comic is going to get VERY uncomfortable for anyone that has had to deal with religious trauma. Just putting it out there. Skip if you can't handle any sort of religious trauma like excessive God Talk, Cultish behavior, Come to Jesus moments, or severe Antisemitism. 

On top of the religions issues, this comic is also going to have significant mental health mishandling. We’re talking about abuse from Doctor figures, use of improper terminology, abuse of the mentally ill, and severe discrimination. 

OH and misogyny. Let’s not forget the misogyny. 

This comic run also gets very…disgusting. I had many moments when reading this that legitimately turned my stomach. There is going to be depictions of self mutilation, gore, suicidal acts, and violence. 

I AM GOING TO CENSOR THINGS. I will not blur images, but I will NOT be posting any of the comic pages that depict any of these violent, shock value, images. I’ll give a brief rundown of what’s going on and tell you that there is an image that I am going to skip. I’m telling you guys, these two runs were disgusting and curdled my stomach many times. Especially issue two. 

So…Those are your only trigger warnings. 

Let’s continue. 

So now we see a narration by Dr. Emmett. 

It is not going to paint a good light on Dr. Emmett. 

She's in her office at night going over files. 

"Sometimes, this job is guiltily fun... To be frank, patient 86 is @#%$ FASCINATING. He attributes his pyromania to a leap of faith. Conversely, I might argue that it was the fifth canteen full of force-fed urine that inspired him. 

Sometimes I get him so fully that it's like I want to have a beer with the guy. 

He wears self-delusion with so much dignity. I wish I had that level of resolve, that I could stop fixating on the...SPECTOR conundrum.

I'm just a failure of a doctor, left without a shell-shocked dissociative bipolar to shove away in a box. 

In any other instance, I'd dial this one in. It's just that one nagging thing. 

Lunatic joins the army. Said lunatic freaks out and ends up spiritually reborn in a near-death experience. 

Sound like anyone you know?" 

OH GOOD. GREAT. I just... Deep breath. Deep breath. 

We’re going to play that angle. Woman psychiatrist/psychologist falls for her feminine desire to get with her patient. She can’t be expected to uphold her standards as a doctor or her doctor patient relationship. She has to dream for that exciting patient. She plays it off as wanting the award winning famous patient that makes her career into something amazing but because she’s a woman she has to play the dreamy sighing “Oh look how amazing he is!” role. And of course she’s after Marc. She can’t have Marc, so she finds this other patient that has a similar start of PTSD military based trauma and she’s going to fail to help him because she wants him to be like the other guy. 

Not to mention she's using outdated terms like "Shell Shocked". 

A term coined in WWI when for the first time, the world witnessed large groups of men coming back from war after encountering new aged weapons never dealt with or seen before. 

Then she calls him Bipolar and links it to his Dissociative disorder. 

I don't have a degree in psychology, but I do have a special interest. From what I've seen in the OG early comics by Moench, Marc Spector is not Bipolar. He does not exhibit episodes of mania followed by deep periods of depression. I'd go further into it, but trust me... He has a LOT of issues, but Bipolar was not one of them to start with. 

In fact, after Schizophrenia, Bipolar was one of the most commonly misdiagnosed mental illnesses. A lot of people with DID were misdiagnosed with Bipolar disorder because of the way the symptoms presented in many cases. You didn't have another person in your brain, you were just exhibiting mania and now you're depressed. 

ANOTHER THING to take issue with! 

This comic is coming DIRECTLY on the heels of Lemire's run. In that run, it was the first time we dealt with Marc's official time in the army and his dissociative states. 

We saw Marc wandering through the desert, dissociating and dealing with Khonshu issues. 

The off handed tick about "Lunatic joins the army. Said lunatic freaks out and ends up spiritually reborn in a near-death experience." 

1. The army did not lead to a Near-Death experience for Marc Spector. He joined the Mercenaries and was killed when his conscious got the better of him and his leader shot him for trying to save someone. 

2. A doctor of psychology should NOT be using terms like 'Lunatic'. 

3. Marc didn't 'FREAK OUT'. He had several dissociative episodes that ended up with him being discharged. 

4. Marc was NOT 'spiritually reborn'. Depending on who is writing and how Khonshu himself is being depicted... An ancient god revived him as his avatar. This is not converting him in any sense of the word. Marc Spector may have issues with his Jewish beliefs and upbringing, but he is still very Jewish. He was NOT 'spiritually reborn'. He was brought back to life to act as Avatar and Marc took this to being Moon Knight, vengeance, paying for the pain he caused, and trying to be a better person. To be a different person. To be anyone except Marc Spector. Jake and Steven took this to just mean that they wanted to help people. 

So... Yeah... Now we move on to the title page. 

This is going well. We can already tell that Bemis either just didn’t read the Lemire run and got the cliff notes, or he just didn’t care and only took away bits without understanding the actual story it had to tell. 

ON THE TITLE PAGE. Ohhhhh man you guys. ON THE TITLE PAGE. 

Every title page has a little blurb explaining who the character is and what's been going on in previously connected issues. This way, people can pick it up and just go without having to dig through old comics. It's also a good reminder for people like me, who have shit memories and have forgotten what's going on after having to wait a whole month for the new issue. 

I honestly have no idea who writes these blurbs. Sometimes you'll get the same blurb that lass for YEARS. (see Bendis run and how that carried over for runs and runs). 

"Marc Spector. Steven Grant. Jake Lockley. Each a distinct personality of one man vying for control. Spector, the original personality, has asserted his dominance and fights to retain that control. But years ago, as a mercenary, Spector died in Egypt under a statue of the Moon God Khonshu. In the shadow of the ancient deity, Marc returned to life. From then on, Marc took on a new aspect in honor of Khonshu, dedicating his second life to fighting crime as....

MOON KNIGHT". 

I want to fight someone. I don’t know who. But I want to fight someone. Whoever wrote this… This is what Marvel took away from the Lemire run. His beautiful run that for the first time, really dealt with Moon Knight’s mental health struggles. That said “They have dissociative Identity Disorder. They are a system. They have learned how to work together. They have found peace in who they are.” And whoever wrote this blurb went “Nawh, but Marc is the dominant and original personality and he’s in charge now!” 

Editor in Chief: Axel Alonso

Chief Creative Officer: Joe Quesada. 

Ah... These guys. These guys are to blame. We meet again Quesada... 

 Alright. We now see Dr. Emmett at some party (birthday party? They're all wearing party hats but they're clearly eating dinner and one guy is wearing a kippah and someone else is wearing a top hat and one guy is wearing no hat. I... I don't even know. This is all a disaster at this point.) 

The group is laughing about things and Dr. Emmett is day dreaming about Marc Spector. 

"Marc, my former patient. And this new one, patient 86. Traumatic experiences in the middle east. The similarity is brazen. Was there something in Marc's experience that patient 86 could..." 

Her thoughts are interrupted as one of her colleagues takes a jab at her. "Still stuck on the hooded leotard guy?" 

She snaps to defense and they tell her to let it go. That she can do better than 'that loser'. 

Back at home, she's angry. Moon Knight is not a loser in a leotard. 

And we see her shrine. Yeah... This is healthy. 

Oh good. Back at work she's dealing with patient 86. She's attempting to explain how his brain works to him. 

Get ready for some grade A psychology here people. 

She explains that on one side of his brain is chemistry and the other is "Personality. Socially ingrained behavior. I want you to see the distinction." 

He asks her that the fact that he's murdered people should label him as insane. 

She disagrees. "I'm not sure the fact that you're a murderer proves anything about your nature." 

Hmm. 

She goes on to explain that "So many have been clinically impared by their unique brain chemistry. They needed help. We failed them. Imagine hearing audible voices that told you to eat a person. These people needed treatment." 

And she points to cases like Sam, Gein, and Fish. 

Yeah... Because Gein needed treatment. I'm just gonna... Just gonna.... ARGH. 

"You developed bipolar disorder during your early adulthood. Moods fluctuating from mania to depression to utterly convincing delusion. Compounded by the traumatic childhood on the street, in state homes, and juvie that you barely recall. None of these things were your fault. Nor what happened in the desert." 

Okay, they're just throwing out things at this point. They're just going to start listing off the sterotypical bad childhood leads to a bad kid and trauma things. 

She then goes on to tell him that she understands what he did. That it was not his fault, that he was looking for something to control and fire was his answer. Not to mention God. "None of these symbols are inherently harmful. I've seen the power of symbolism redeem one of my patients who was literally split apart by trauma." 

oh no. no no no no...That's not how... ARGH. 

"Imagine what it could do for someone who was ready to receive help. Bipolar disorder, when tempered, can produce intense inspiration and creativity. I want to help you." 

And she adds "Kurt Cobain" to the list. 

I'm just going to... To sit here... quietly raging. 

Alright, so now we see Dr. Emmett walking through the Egyptian exhibit at the museum. 

"If Egyptian Mythology worked for Spector...It could work for my mysteriously nameness patient." 

HOW IS HE NAMELESS?! HE WAS IN THE ARMY. They KNOW where he was stationed, they know what unit he was in, they know the trauma he faced and bullying, and they know the group of people he killed! OF COURSE THEY ARE GOING TO KNOW WHO HE IS. 

"As I stand in front of the statue of Khonshu, Marc's main squeeze, I have a very important realization--Marc Spector may be legally insane... But he was never crazy at all. 

Is every priest who hears the voice of their lord crazy? Every shaman? The damn writers of the constitution, invoking god on every page?

Marc manifested the meaning of this icon. His dissociative identity disorder simply brought it more vividly to life. 

He needed an emblem of his inner bedlam and his innate need to protect victims. And the god of these qualities--Khonshu--came to him literally." 

THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS. He didn't get DID out in the desert. He's had it since he was a very young boy! He didn't go to Khonshu to try to make sense of it! His DID didn't 'bring it to light'. It didn't make him hear the voice of god! 

So she decides to pick out a god for her patient. 

Cause that's healthy. 

She considers Osiris, Horus, ....Imhotep... 

But of course she stops at Ra. 

You know what's really getting to me right now? This so called Ivy league doctor that clearly has no idea what she's doing, has zero ability to draw the line at doctor patient relationship, her obsessive tendencies, and pushing her obsession onto another patient. 

Furthermore, when you look at Patient 86, you do see a man that recognizes that he did something wrong. That he needs help and is in a place to try to understand how his own brain is working. We see him clinging to her words and trying to understand where she's going with her treatment. 

She explains that Khonshu is Ra's son. 

"I explain my understanding of the two gods' dynamic to 86. Some of it comes from established myth, some from Freudian interpretation." 

FREUDIAN. THEY ARE GOING FREUDIAN. This is a no Freud zone. 

"Amon Ra represented the burning, blazing emblem of masculine virility that is the sun. In many cultures, the sun stands for the sovereignty of masculinity --logic and raw power. But in the New Kingdom of Egyptian lore it was his Adopted son Khonshu who was described as "Greatest God of the Great Gods." 

(Nope. There was a brief Khonshu cult where they briefly played at worshiping the Moon instead of the sun. This was later put down and Ra resurged as the leading deity again. And it certainly wasn't the 'New Kingdom' path to look at him as the greatest of the great). 

"Khonsu of the moon, a universal symbol for the redemptive power of insubordination--femininity and sensitivity. The Ras of this world resent becoming passe. It makes them angry. And they burn harder to spite their own impotence. Established society can't accept change. Can't accept that the old ways don't work anymore." 

Oh good. Misogynistic teachings. Just what he needs. 

"Something happened to you when you were young, dropped you into a sea of lost children. I believe what you're hiding from yourself was most likely some form of abuse." 

She asks him to try to remember and he does remember abuse from the people in the army but also as a child being abused. 

Now we have the utmost breach of doctor patient confidentiality. 

"Finally, I reveal the tale of Marc Spector to 86. How a confused mentally unstable boy drew on the figurative power of the Moon to justify his nature. 

Marc's transformation into the hero called Moon Knight...A role model for the bewildered. 

I pass along all my endless research and documentation of his life since he was under my care, as well as several well-regarded books considering Egyptian mythology." 

AHHHHHHHHHH.

"And madly enough, patient 86 gets it. It clicks in him. He sees how Spector, like him, was not just insane, but was truly immersed in a living myth. It was never the moon's fault that it shone so brightly." 

Now we see Dr. Emmett having a nightmare. 

She sits in a large empty and white office when she's suddenly attacked by mummies. 

Moon Knight shows up to save her and rips apart the mummies. 

But wait, it's not Moon Knight! 

JESUS. I don't know why that reminded me. But this patient is purposefully drawn to resemble the white Christian version of Jesus. So that’s another contention I have with this comic. 

I’m also 90% certain that that cat wasn’t white a few pages ago… 

Alright, back at the asylum, we see a changed patient. He's more confident. More thoughtful. 

She tells him he needs to be present and not dissociating into the void. She wants to continue his 'traditional therapy' as well as his "...studies." 

He tells her that he knows who he is now. 

She tells him that even if "the allegory of Khonshu brings you resolve, you still need medicine. You still need therapy." 

"So, it's just a story now? I suppose Ra never let his wrath rain down on his errant son? That everything you taught me was an illusion?" 

Suddenly she's back peddling. Saying she didn't teach him that. It's not what she was trying to get him to understand. 

He asks her to leave. He has things to think about. 

I mean, honestly what did she think was going to happen? 

She has a patient that believes that he has been touched by the divine and has become godly. So she has given him a god that is involved in FIRE, the thing he is associating with god. She's basically given him a path to his own displacement!! 

She FINALLY realizes that she can just go to the military hospital to try to figure out who he really is. 

At the military medical facility, she talks to another doctor. 

"I don't say this a lot about multiple murderers, but... If you're asking what I thought of the man, I'd have to admit he brought nothing but warmth to this place." 

And that's the thing. He's a quiet and pleasant man. Introspective and not really possessing his own unique personality. He accepts what is put on him. A sort of trauma processing and self defense. 

The doctor then explains that patient 86 signed up for the army under a forged alias. Okay. So that explains why they don't know who he is... But they could call him by that name instead of just 86. 

While she's there, another patient runs up, having overhead who they were talking about. 

He screams about how he was there and he saw what happened. 

"We all know the truth. It was impossible. They had him tied up. Naked. How could he have possibly started that fire? No matches, no lighter. I know what he--" 

The orderlies show up and of course pull him away. 

At the same time she gets an emergency message from her own asylum telling her to get back there right away. 

She gets back to find 's room covered in blood. 

Her response? 

"How could this be? Was it all for nothing? As a doctor, I believed I could make a difference. But again, I am just at the whim of the raw, elemental power of insanity." 

NO. You most certainly are not at the whim of the power of insanity! THIS IS YOUR JOB. Your job is to help people who have mental health issues! Being a doctor in a mental health institution is HARD. You have the lives of people at their most vulnerable in your hands! 

So what happened? 

Another nurse tells Dr. Emmett: "We found him like this and immediately restrained him. So nobody else besides Nurse Hayworth could be hurt. ALso... There was no other way to retrieve her nose." 

Cool. We're going Hannibal Lecter now? For dramatics? For shock value? 

I'm not going to show you the comic picture here. I hate it. It hurts to look at. It's disgusting. It's clearly done for shock value. 

But we see  wrapped up in a restraint jacket with blood all over his face. Behind him he's drawn RANDOM vaguely Egyptian hieroglyphs in blood. 

She asks him why he did it. 

"When I revealed myself to her... She didn't believe me." 

Dr. Emmett is confused. She thought he was a kind and compassionate man who had a terrible upbringing and didn't know who he was. 

He tells her that she should know who he is since she taught it to him. 

"Khonshu." She answers. Because she's an idiot. 

"Khonshu is nothing next to me." 

He bursts into flames, igniting the whole room. 

"I wanted to speak to you before I go, but...I'll have to take leave of you now, Dr. E. Whatever made me the way I am is irrelevant. You brought me purpose. You showed me that I am--and always have been--A God." 

"Dear Lord. Amon Ra." 

He tells her that Khonshu is going to bow to him even if he has to crack his spine and so on and so on.... 

He leaves the hospital, leaving the doctor to die in the flames. 

We see flashes of his past where he set fire to his abusers as a kid and again in the army. Fire caused by his own mind. 

"He was always meant to become this. And now I know what trauma robbed him of his memories. Sometimes the sun gives birth to a bright brilliant Moon, changing us for the better. But sometimes it consumes us... And we burn, it becomes all we can see." 

We cut to a shot of the hospital being on fire and emergency services there. 

Look! They found a survivor in the flames! The commentary between the paramedics is disgusting. And the casual way they move to treat the survivor is also just disgusting. 

We get to see the survivor and it's Dr. Emmett. Completely burned up but still alive. Again... shock value and I'm not going to show you the image here. But it's bad. 

She is laughing and yelling about how she believes. 

We see 86 walking away from the hospital down the road, happy, and also naked. I honestly don’t know why this became a thing in comics with naked guys all over the place. It’s obviously used as a way to elicit some sort of reaction from the reader. One of disgust, something to laugh at, or just “Oh no! The man is naked now!” I hate it. 

Then we get a few pages from Khonshu. A recap on Marc's story. 

It's not told right. But I will forgive it because it's told from Khonshu's point of view, and that asshole probably sees it this way. So... I suppose I'll turn a blind eye to how wrong the story is here. 

You would see it as Marc begging, wouldn't you, you stupid pigeon. 

"He became...A hero. He used my powers to fight crime. To find redemption. It only cost him his mind. You see, the criminals aren't the only thing Marc Spector fights. He also fights... 

"The voices in his head. Marc Suffers from Multiple Personality Disorder." 

I've said it before. It stopped being called Multiple Personality Disorder YEARS ago. This is lazy writing with no research. And coming off of Lemire's run, this is just insulting. 

Also calling it 'voices in his head' is just outright pitiful. 

"But given time, he has managed to make peace with those voices. Including mine. No, together, we are... MOON KNIGHT." 

And that's the end of the issue. 

We get an afterward from the author. 

It angers me beyond words. 

"Writing Moon Knight (not "a book like Moon Knight" or "Writing such a huge project for Marvel"...Writing Moon Knight) is a dream come true. I couldn't pick a better place in the Marvel U to inject my passion into, and it is the pinnacle of everything I've worked towards as a writer. 

Anyone who treats a superhero comic as an easy paycheck needs to check themselves and realize why they're our most prevalent modern myths. Thank YOU (and my fam at Marvel) for letting me write this, supporting my previous work, and allowing me to make comics with someone as esteemed and talented as Jacen. 

I only ask that if you enjoyed this somewhat bizarre issue, keep reading this book. I want to enjoy it with you. Maybe we can claw away at something horrible together. 

It will not, however, be pretty.  

-Thanks, 

Max Bemis." 

We also get an afterword by the artist, Jacen Burrows that notes that they are following in the wake of legends like Smallwood and Lemire as well as Ellis and Shalvey who worked hard to re-awaken Moon Knight after it's cancellation (see Bendis). They note that they are working to tell a new and defining chapter in his character and a thought-provoking, intense, and scary note in Marc Spector's life. 

I'm going to go punch a wall now. 

NEXT ISSUE! #189! 

Here we go… issue two… Let’s get this…moldy… bread. 

We open on... NYC Subway. We see a happy dude driving the subway car. As the car rolls into the station, a large man steps into the cab with him. 

"Happy to have made it to Friday? The stench of your jubilance is offensive. But you're right to rejoice. Today you learn the truth." 

He touches the driver's shoulder and slowly a blue beam over takes him and his eyes turn blood red and start to bleed. ...I'm not posting a picture. 

"Tell me what you've learned by knowing me. I'm living in you now." 

The driver starts to stammer and talk. "H...H..Humanity is perverse. Genocide is the comeuppance we deserve. There is no creator. Undebatable. Love is a contrivance. Undebatable. The white house is the death star. Twitter is a virus. And when the nukes raze everything we know...Only a fool would claim it wasn't our destiny." 

Yeah... The large man calls himself "THE TRUTH" and has the ability to send these visions into the people he touches. It makes the driver hate everything and he starts up the car again, out to spread the truth. 

We are back to Khonshu narrating. 

"My name is Khonshu. Moon God of Egypt. I'm here to tell you a story about a mad vigilante named Marc Spector. Our tale finds us here, on a standard night for Marc, who, when dressed in all white and donning a cape, refers to himself as Moon Knight. 

Marc has spent ten minutes decorating this bar with the blood of these drug dealers and slavers. The cacophony of snapping collarbones and pit-pattering plasma is like whale songs to him. 

As the thud of a man being literally punted across the room sounds, Marc Spector is grateful for his life. 

For the privilege of serving me. Khonshu, protector of travelers in the night. 

You see, Marc Spector is crazy. But in the context of my blessing, he is, well...A 'Super Hero'." 

I overlooked it before, considering it comes from Khonshu's narrative and Khonshu WOULD see things differently.... But I can't. I can't even attribute this to Khonshu. This is just tripe bullshit. 

We're going to start fast forwarding here because... It just keeps going on like this. The old bird just doesn't shut up. He carries on for three pages and there is a LOT of text there. 

We see Moon Knight beating up a bunch of guys to a bloody mess. Then we move down to see a bandaged up Marc heading up to his VERY run down, grungy, apartment building. He waves hello to some old lady behind the glass that runs the place. 

He tells her he'll have the rent for her in the morning. 

Khonshu again calls Marc having just recovered from a 'personal crisis' and taking his problems more seriously, like his struggle with 'multiple personality disorder'. 

Khonshu boasts about how hard it is to live with a demigod in your head and that Marc has learned to 'live with his lunacy and wield it like a weapon'. 

We see Marc ironing his Moon Knight outfit while watching TV. 

Khonshu AGAIN talks about how Marc has learned to use his three distinct identities and that therapy has let him come a long way. About how Marc came to him begging to have his life saved and now Marc is his 'earthly champion'. 

"Or perhaps he was a space cadet whose psychosis was triggered by being shot up and dried out in the baking middle east sun. Your call." 

THIS IS WHAT YOU GOT FROM LEMIRE?! THIS?! How...How... HOW. 

We now see Marc passed out in bed. 

"Marc is ready to become someone else." 

Yeah so… We got him ‘becoming’ Steven. Who talks to Khonshu. Sure. Fine. Whatever. Khonshu calls him Narcissistic and decadent. 

FIRST OF ALL. Oh. You did NOT just come for Steven Grant. Oh we are going to have words now. 

Steven Grant is a beautiful wonderful man who has dreams of charity, peace, and living the perfect life that he was EXPECTED to live as a child under his father’s role. He’s the ideal son he was supposed to be, but he keeps his eyes on what’s right and what’s wrong and has STRONG moral opinions. He takes care of the body because he HAS TO. Marc isn’t going to do it. If it wasn’t for Steven, they’d turn into a walking festering infection with broken bones and starve to death! Steven keeps them alive and HEALTHY. He is the epitome of the one that gives because he believes in living a good life as a good person. 

Oh. Now you're gonna come for my boy Jake?! YEAH. YOU BETTER AVOID DISCUSSING HIM FOR NOW. I’LL BITE ANYONE THAT COMES FOR JAKE. (spoilers: I know exactly what he does with Jake later and I am furious). 

Alright. Back to Patient 86, or RA as he's going to be called later for a bit. 

We see him in a homeless shelter getting soup. He talks to various homeless people, prostitutes and druggies in an effort to locate someone. There are heavy implications in some of these images that he 'did things' to get the information he wanted. I’m not going to post them because of the nature of the way these people are being depicted. 

Back with Khonshu and Steven. He's at some business meeting. He's made them a lot of money. Everyone is happy and celebrating. Apparently Steven goes to struggling companies and makes them VERY wealthy. 

He's decided to donate his portion of the new wealth towards his "Lunar Lives" charity fund that feeds the displaced youth of New York. 

Steven shrugs saying that money is boring and he finds it fun to toss it to places where it doesn't belong. 

Sure, we'll go with that version of Steven Grant being a kind and charitable man. 

The party is interrupted by news reports that a subway conductor committed suicide by crashing the car. The survivors of the crash are now apparently acting strange, "self mutilating" and acting violent towards the aid workers trying to help the scene. 

Steven slips away from the party. 

Moon Knight time. 

But first, we go back to RA. 

He's found the person he's looking for. He's guarded by thugs. After a little encounter, Ra sets fire to one of the thugs and heads up to meet the man. 

Back at the subway crash, we see chaos as rescue workers try to put out the fire, help the injured, and deal with the ones that are suddenly acting violently. 

And Khonshu is still going. It's an interesting choice. I'll give them that. Having Khonshu narrate instead of hearing at ALL from the Moon Knight system. I suppose it gives them bigger leeway when it comes to the unreliable narrator because Khonshu WOULD see things differently. An excuse to not depict Marc and the others correctly? 

....But it still does swing widely and miss far too often. 

"Quite familiar with all the things that make men weep and soil themselves, Marc Spector felt at home in these derelict tunnels." 

We see Moon Knight walk past the crash and into the train tunnels. 

"After too much time confined in a white room, the odor of dead rat fart and fungal growth actually calmed his busy brain. He was in his element-The inspector holmes of king fu madmen." 

See, this is where it falls flat. If Steven is dealing with the business aspect, Marc isn't going to care about that room. 

And again we get ANOTHER jab at Marc being 'insane' and liking the disgusting things and being more at home in dank and terrible places. 

Perhaps Marc is more at home in sewers (there was a sewer man) than Steven or Jake... But it has nothing to do with his mental state. It's because, as Moon Knight, he isn't above things like that. He's not the perfect clean hero that Captain America or Iron man is. He's the man of the people that puts himself down there in the lowest parts because it's where he's needed. 

Moon Knight rightly is able to look at the scene of chaos at the crash site and deduct that it's a psionic attack. 

"Historically, he had found telepaths to generally be meek characters using their sway over the mind as compensation for physical frailty. Like sexually feeble men with muscle cars." 

Unnecessary jab. 

Now, as much as I dislike this art style, it's a choice and there is SOME merit to it. Look, here's a nice page. 

Here’s a badly cropped version. I like the way they drew Moon Knight in the first two panels with the play of the light and shadows. That big angry dude down there is the Truth guy. And I cropped it there because under him is a bunch of guys he’s shown the truth to who are writhing on the ground, bleeding from the eyes and shouting terrible things. 

Moon Knight goes in swinging and lands a few blows, trying to know him out to release the affected people from his psychic attacks. 

The guy is pretty big and he takes the hits easily. 

He manages to grab Moon Knight by the neck and starts to use his abilities on him. 

So what truth does Marc see? 

"I'm a mad circus clown... This is all for myself. There is no Moon God. Just another...Sick... Delusion..." 

I...honestly can see Marc having that issue. It's an issue he's had before where he thinks this is all his own way to keep being violent and that Khonshu is just a product of his need to justify what he does. 

Marc snaps himself out of the psychic attack by punching himself in the face. 

And I forgot that Bemis has decided that Marc Spector is a masochist and he loves it. 

Literally, it has Moon Knight yelling "Ghhh. I #@$% Love it!" 

He attacks the Truth again, slicing him up with his crescent darts and landing blows. 

The Truth remains standing. 

Moon Knight decides to look inward for help. 

"Not having a lot of luck here, Fellas. Khonshu's more of a talker and this guy's power set is the real deal. Grant's useless...Doubt the Truth is looking for stock tips." 

(I forgot that Bemis considers Khonshu to be his own version of an Alter without being an alter? That he just lives in their head.) 

UGH. Yep. Here we go. This is what he's done to Jake. 

"I'm gonna need..." And Moon Knight lets out a scream of rage as Marc steps out and tells Jake to "Do your worst." 

Apparently... Bemis has decided that Jake is the wild card, violent, unpredictable, and brutal. Worse than Marc for some reason. That Jake is the powerhouse of hits... 

I honestly has no idea why he went this route when MARC of all people has always been the one to be the guy that doesn't go down and always hits back. It just makes no sense.

What even. 

Jake comes right at the Truth, spits a tooth in his face, then challenges him. 

"You want to step into Jake Lockley's mind, you gigantic freak? I @#$% Dare you.

You met Marc. Marc's disturbed as hell. Now imagine that he took all the worst parts of himself and let them fuse into a living person. Now go ahead and taste MY truth, you leech." 

I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THIS. 

DISSOCIATIVE IDENTITY DISORDER DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY. It’s not making people out of things! You don’t go “Well I hate that I burn all the cakes so I’m going to make this person my cake burning person!” ALSO Marc isn’t that bad either! Marc did terrible things, but Marc is also the hardest on himself! Marc could burn a cake and then use it as proof that he’s the worst person in the world! And Jake ISN’T a bad person! Jake is a good kind loving man with friends and a good heart and I’M SO ANGRY RIGHT NOW. 

And the whole time, you see ghostly Marc off to the side looking less than pleased at the situation and reminding Jake that "You're not allowed to kill him, Jake." 

And the Truth pulls away in pain. 

"Dear God. The things...The things you've done."

WHAT?! WHAT DID JAKE DO?! DRINK HOT COFFEE AND BURN HIS TONGUE?! DID HE PLAY BALL WITH ONE OF THE LOCAL KIDS AND MISS THE HOOP!? DID HE DOUBLE PARK HIS CAB!? 

Truth is still reeling. "He has no idea...Does he? You blind him to your foul actions! I'll tell him, you fool! I'll tell him about..." 

and Jake cuts Truth off by shoving two crescent darts into his eyes. Yeah...they got an eye thing in this run. I'm not a fan. 

Jake gives the body back to Marc, who instantly wants to know what Truth was talking about. 

He chastises Jake for his actions and tells him that he's going to get a talking to about this later. 

And Marc makes a bad pun about "The Truth Hurts" over the unconscious Truth. 

Khonshu and Steven shake their heads at him and Marc claims to be the funny man. 

whoopy doo. 

With the Truth gone, the afflicted people seem to be recovering now. 

Back at RA's part of the story, he finally makes it upstairs to to see the guy he's been looking for. 

Oh. Oh no. I forgot about this. I totally wiped it from my mind. 

We see someone sitting at a chair. Ra tells him that he's been put here to destroy Khonshu.......

"As a manifestation of his father, Ra, I am offended that he continues to breathe and spread his gospel of dissent through a foul Avatar. A HEBREW, no less. I want your help to end Marc Spector." 

I'm... I'm going to take a minute here. 

I want to make a few things Very...VERY clear. 

I don't care who the fuck is writing this, how they were raised, or where they stand with things now. 

This is not okay. Not in a comic book, not in real life, and not in any sense of the word. 

We have a figure who is CLEARLY styled to look like a Jesus figure that believes he is the Egyptian god Ra. We have him out to destroy Moon Knight because 1. He works with Khonshu and 2. He is a 'Hebrew'. 

This is just disgusting. 

And to put it in a comic. Where people of all ages read it and think that it's okay. 

Maybe you had some teen or young adult that was identifying with the bad guy. It happens. They see a bad guy that came from a bad situation and they root for them or fantasize what it would be like to burn things like they do. And they start spitting hate like this. Violence towards Jewish people. You are giving them permission to hate a people too. To blame them. To look at them as inferior. 

Or maybe you have a young naive kid that has never heard talk like this before and suddenly "Hebrew" becomes a slanderous hateful word. Congrats. You've just turned that kid into always associating that word with bad and disgusting things. It's only a step away from becoming antisemitic in their life. 

I just... I can't. I can't even begin to tell you how much this is painful to see. To see Marvel allow this as a company. A company founded on Jewish people. To see Moon Knight as a comic, based around a Jewish system that was originally designed to be about dealing with trauma and hate and pain and finding a way to get better and continue to find the light in the dark. 

Anyways... Back to the comic...

The man behind the chair is eager to take down Marc Spector, but he knows it takes more than a man. So Ra sets the place on fire to show off his skills. 

The man stands up, impressed. 

Oh look... It's Bushman.

A very poorly drawn Bushman that BARELY makes it past the caricature of an old racist cartoon black man. And it only gets worse from there. And as much as Bushman is the bad guy and used to (USED TO) be Marc's biggest enemy... This version of him only goes downhill from here. And we've moved on from antisemitism to racism. 

fun times for all.... 

Oh good. This issue is done. 

Can you tell I’m regretting this decision yet? 

You know what? I’ve got a question for you to think about! We can all get mad at Bemis. We can point at his horrible story and all the terrible things he wrote about (and boy howdy are there more and they get worse as we go on)... But what about the art? 

As MacKay said “Art can make or break a comic”. You can have the most beautiful story in the world and then have it drawn like shit. So who decided to make everything gory and bloody and shocking? Who decided to make Bushman into…THAT? Did Bemis say “I want you to make him look like this” and then pull up a 1940s comic? Or did Burrows make this call all on his own? Are there really two people to blame for these comics? Can we be angry at the artist too? 

I’m already pretty pissed at the editors that let this happen… But who drew this? 

Jacen Burrows started working with Warren Ellis in 2000. Ah... That explains some of the gore. 

Also illustrated adaptations of Alan Moore. Yup. That explains the gore. Those two have very specific styles that usually translate into a lot of gore. 

Oh yup. He's also worked a lot with Garth Ennis. 

So we've got three of the four most graphic big name comic writers there. This explains a lot. 

I don't have much on his personal life, or things that would show WHY he drew things this way... Perhaps it was direction or perhaps it was choice. Looking at some of his other works, they don't all look like this. So who knows? 

NEXT ISSUE! #190! 

I don’t want this bread. Send it back. I want different bread.

You know what? Why even bring Bushman into this? 

This is a move designed to pull the old fans back in and to elicite "OH MAN" emotions from people. And it is not done well. 

Bushman started as the big bad. He was the one that worked with Marc as a mercinary and the one that killed him. He's shown up a few times over the years, putting fear into Marc as Bushman threatened his friends. Then Marc killed him (and cut off his face). 

So why bring him back? He's done. Marc has burried this particular thing of the past. He's a memory of a ruthless and brutal time. 

And what they do with him here is just... They mock him. They make that memory into something grose and shameful. 

You'll see in a bit. 

So the next issue opens on some look backs at Moon Knight through the ages. We've seen this before. Other one shots and annuals have touched on the other Knights of Khonshu. 

This time we see it through Ra's eyes. 

"And so it has been since the days the gods themselves walked the earth. Ra and Khonshu, vengeful father and errant son. Warring for the very soul of the world, reborn again and again through earthly avatars. And in every instance....Ra is humbled. Shamed." 

....Did Bemis even do mythological research? Is he just going based on "Ah yes, the sun and the moon!" 

I'm no Egypt mythology expert, but I can tell you this... Khonshu (or Khonsu as it's really supposed to be spelled) is the son of Amun and Mut. Amun and Ra used to be two different gods but eventually merged into Amun-Ra when two big cities rose to power. He was then attributed with being the king of all. 

Khonsu is often depicted as a child! He's drawn with a side-ponytail, which is the "sidelock of youth" and depicts youth in ancient art. 

At first Khonsu was incredibly violent. He absorbed other gods' powers by eating their organs. Eventually, he was changed to a mellow god of Time, Measurement, and prosperity. 

As I mentioned before, there was a brief period when a popular city worshiped Khonsu as the superior god, but it didn't last and Ra was put back in power when that city fell. 

So Bemis clearly didn’t do any research into how the story originally goes. I’m not surprised. 

He babbles almost incoherently about Karma and balance and how Khonshu always wins because the Sun God failed to find a proper Avatar. 

He says Ra is here to break the cycle and bring order back to mankind. Because mankind needs discipline and order. 

"I'm not like those who came before me. I'm not like you, victims of Khonshu's pride. I was born with the flame within me." 

So apparently this is a big speech to some henchmen. Or just a bunch of guys looking to get revenge on Moon Knight? Unclear. 

Ra's speech done, who is now known as the Sun King, Bushman gives his own speech. 

He admits that he now lives his life dealing crack and isn't at his best. 

"Marc Spector...Scares the crap out of me, simply put, I don't want to die again. I wouldn't come near Moon Knight with a ten-foot pole at this point, but with Sun King's determination and power?" 

He tells them that with Sun King's fire, they can take down Moon Knight. 

Sure. 

Back to Mr. Spector himself... We see him meditating and holding a little talk with Jake. 

Still we get Khonshu's narration: 

"The inside of Marc Spector's head is a picturesque, violent landscape touched by Egyptian mythology, Judaic folklore and Fragments of his past." 

I have so much I want to argue about with this that I don't even know where to start. 

So we see an abstract headscape here. Marc has Jake in a boxing ring and is beating the crap out of him. 

He's angry at Jake for keeping things from him and he wants answers. 

And here we get a childish depiction of their argument that holds no research and insulting implications.

It's supposed to be funny. It has a certain charm to it that a much much younger me might have found agreeable, but older me has learned a lot and it just makes me tired. And upset at the character assassination that has been happening to my good buddy Jake. 

I'm also upset at the implication that Jake is just 'a piece of Marc'. The parts Marc didn't want. 

So they continue to fight while Khonshu and Steven watch. Steven is upset at their fighting and tries to get them to stop. 

Jake takes a bad blow. "Look, Steven is the wealthy benefactor. Khonshu is our connection to the bigger picture. You're the voice of reason. And I deal in the grimy leftovers. You BUILT us this way." 

I hate it. Marc didn't BUILD them. He didn't sit down one day and decide to make other people to hold things! It also depicts Khonshu as being an altar. 

While I've often toyed with that idea, it's always been clear from day one that Khonshu is NOT another aspect in their head. There IS a good chance that they have someone that has been formed as a fictive or even a persecutor in the form of Khonshu... But that's an argument for another day. For the sake of this review, Khonshu himself has always been an outside force! 

ALSO. Marc. Marc Spector. The voice of reason?! How do you get a character SO WRONG that you are writing a whole comic book for? When has Marc Spector EVER been the voice of reason? 

Jake puts Marc in a sleeper hold and threatens to "put you to sleep" if Marc doesn't chill out. 

"It's not your fault that your mind ended up like this. All we can do is embrace the crazy and let you move on with your life. Which means you need to trust me, Marc. Capiche?" 

I have always been a huge fan of the implication that because of their unique mental health issues, DID, and dealings with Khonshu, along with repeated trauma and death, that the Moon Knight system has the ability to surpass expectation and use these things as secret weapons. The number of times people have attacked them mentally and just been destroyed is amazing. I love it. 

THIS. This I hate. "Embrace the crazy". This is clearly the message Bemis got from Lemire's run. That they went through all that so that they could be crazier and use it as a wild card. NO. Just no. 

Anyways, Marc and Jake make up and relax while Steven hugs Khonshu in the background in celebration. 

We now to go the Sun King, who is knocking on a door to a fancy looking house. 

And who answers the door? Marlene Alraune. 

For those that don't know, Some time after Moench left Moon Knight, Marlene also left them. When Moon Knight picked up again for the Houston run, Marlene came back, but it was a rocky relationship. She left them again, saying she couldn't be with them for her own health. 

Sun King poses as a charity drive door to door person and while Marlene is getting her check book, he notices a picture on the wall. He freaks out and calls in Bushman. 

Marlene is famliar with Raoul Bushman. He's the man that killed her father, after all. The one that killed Marc and started it all. 

Bushman notices the picture and taunts Marlene. 

He calls her a damsel-in-distress. This has never been the case. Marlene has NEVER been a damsel-in-distress. As much as I harp on her from the old days, that girl could take care of herself! Half the time she was the one rescuing Moon Knight! 

So to see her passive and not knowing how to fight or take care of herself? No. 

We head back to Moon Knight, who is fighting a bunch of "disabled gentlemen", most of which are missing arms and legs and the such. It's implied they work for Bushman and Moon Knight is to blame for their missing pieces. hmm. 

While fighting, he gets a phone call. In typical "My ex" fashion, the caller ID says "Do NOT pick up, Psychopath! Let it go!" 

Hm. 

He answers. Khonshu is not pleased by this but Marc can't help but answer. It says that Marc is still obsessed with her. 

He's super happy to hear from her. 

Marlene tells him that she's missed him and wants him back in her life. 

She attempts to warn him, telling him that maybe it's best if he didn't come over, but Sun King is there and puts the squeeze on her. 

Marc is far too eager to go meet up. 

I'M GOING TO PUT A PAUSE ON THIS FOR A SECOND. 

This is something that has bothered me for AGES and this is the run that started it. (Bemis. Always blame Bemis. But there is also another writer that messed it up too. I'll get to that MUCH later.) 

Moench originally wrote that Marlene was in love with Steven. 

Jake was incredibly indifferent to Marlene. ANy time they interacted, he treated her as a friend, but was more interested in headint to Gena's. Jake was not into the fancy rich life and how she wanted to live. 

Marlene hated Marc Spector. Marc was violent, had a dark past, and was involved in her father's death, her brother's death, and various other tragedies. 

If Marlene was going to do anything, it would NOT be Marc. OR JAKE. It would be Steven. In the whole Moench run, she always insisted in calling them Steven. She wanted them to just be Steven and give up the other lives. 

BACK TO THE COMIC. 

We see a flashback of Marc and Marlene on a raft. 

"From the first time you saw me? Huh. Even though I was some mercenary who hadn't showered for a week?" 

BULL. SHIT. The first time Marlene saw him, he was working with Bushman and had imprisoned them all, then her father had been killed. The first time she spoke to Marc I'm pretty sure she either told him off or he was dying and she was happy because she thought he'd killed her father. 

He's telling her the story of when he had to kill his own brother. (he's not telling the story right). Then he talks about his dead girlfriend and other trauma from his past. 

What makes me mad is that this is conceivable. We have Marc Spector (Marc, not the other two) talking to Marlene about his past, his trauma. It’s possible that over time she could have decided to get to know Marc. That she realized that Marc is not just a murdering scary man and made peace with the fact that she needs to know him if she wants to be with Steven. It’s possible that she got him to open up and tell her his trauma and what made him what he is now. It’s even possible she started to date him too. I can get behind that! It’s growth for BOTH Marc and Marlene.

And I wish this was how it was done. How it was left. I wish that they had this growth. That Marc and Marlene could become closer. That he and Steven learned to trust one another so much that they learned to be with Marlene and share. But this isn’t how Bemis does it. 

We are back in the now and Marc shows up at Marlene's with flowers and a suit. 

He tells her she looks great. He really thinks they are getting back together. Denial is a land that Marc Spector is king of. 

And Sun King is standing in the dining room waiting for him. 

Sun King pretends to be Marlene's boyfriend who has been living with her. 

He tells Marc that Marlene told him all about how he was Moon Knight. It's not like this is a big secret. Marc was only mildly into secret identities. He wasn't very good at it. 

And Marc isn't taking this well. While Sun King pretends to be a guy that's with Marlene, he then starts to talk about how someone else has been 'getting with Marlene.'

He tells Marc to ask Jake Lockley. 

And in the inner world, Marc is a giant monster pissed off and turning on Jake. 

Not how that works. But sure. Why not. Also, let’s propagate the notion that DID promotes distrust in the system and that there’s an evil alter that goes around doing things behind their back like this. 

AND THIS. This is disgusting. 

She claims to have never stopped loving him and was so desperate for him that she got with Jake?! Not the same person! You don't get a hankering for Marc and go for Jake instead!

And then the notion that Jake came to her telling her to keep it a secret?! 

And then telling them that Jake was never "warm". That Jake has evil in him and he just didn't stand up to Marc?! 

WHY IS JAKE The EVIL ALTER!? He isn't. Jake Lockley is a loving kind and caring man. He goes to Gena's every day and asks her how her kids are doing. He feeds the homeless. He makes friends with the people on the street. 

And she tells Marc that she tried to break it off with Jake but it was too late and she couldn't do it alone. 

And that's when Bushman shows up. 

Yep. There’s the daughter. And the fact that she calls him “Uncle Jake” and not “Dad” despite the obvious implication that Jake has been in her life for a long time… 

Maybe they were trying to protect her from the Moon Knight curse but not letting people know she was his daughter… But still… 

Her name is Diatrice. She has pink hair. 

This is the ONE thing that came out of Bemis that is kinda okay. 

It isn't till MacKay gets his hands on her that I actually started to like her. She's a force. 

I admit, change scares me. And I've been jaded by the "We have to introduce a child to keep it interesting!" concept that show-runners and authors seem to have. I was also so incensed by Bemis' terrible writing that I took the stance of HATING Diatrice when I first saw her. 

But it was bad writing. And give her to a good writer and she can do such wonderful things. 

When Jed MacKay got to put her in a story, she was smart, she was fiesty, and she embraced her dad. More so, he embraced her. 

Amazing what happens when someone does something not for the shock value. 

And now we move to the next issue. Good. Great. I hate the art. I hate how weepy Marlene is here. Old Marlene would have been pissed. She would not have put up with this shit. She was smart. She would have found a way to warm him. To do something. I honestly can’t tell if this is misogynistic or just BAD writing? Maybe both? 

Issue #191.

So the cover is the famous picture of the farmers. It's supposed to depict family homesteading life. 

In the real picture, it's not well known, but it is the farmer and the daughter, NOT his wife. Just a little art knowledge there for you. 

So we are back to Khonshu narrating. 

I don't even know what he's narrating. Something about gods and the power structure of gods and his moon battle against the sun. Something about the moon representing mythical and birth and creation and then sun representing the psychopath and the ground and humans. 

Not even mythologically correct in...ANY culture as far as I'm aware. At least none of the one's I've read about. Maybe in some. I don't know. But I doubt very much if there is, Bemis knows about it. 

He also starts talking about evil and angels and devils. Dude has got his theology mixed up. 

Also, Marc should be a bit more upset about seeing Bushman here. They have...HISTORY.

(There she is. There’s the Marlene I know and care about.) 

So everything is on fire. Marc grabs Diatrice and gets her out. 

He tells Marlene to get out. She just stands there DESPITE THERE BEING A SLIDING GLASS DOOR BEHIND HER. 

He tells Diatrice to go find a place to hide, he has to go help Marlene. 

She asks him if he's crazy because you're supposed to run away from fire. 

He just looks at her before going back inside. 

Marlene is still standing there with a sliding glass door directly behind her and fire in front of her. I don't even.... 

Marc calls out Raoul Bushman while he fights the henchmen. 

"You're such a %$#@!!!" 

Roul shoots him in the shoulder. Marc doesn't care. He knocks the gun out of his hand and slams his face into the wall. 

Sun King sets Marc on fire. Marc strips down to his skivvies and throws his burning pants into Sun King's face. 

Yeah. I can see Moon Knight (especially Marc) doing this. It's a good fighting tactic. It's a good depiction of Marc's talent for hard combat with quick thinking. (See? I can see the good too. Still angry, but there is soooooome good.)

See… It isn’t beneath Marc. This guy pretends to know Marc because of the terrible psychologist and being connected to ‘Ra’. But this isn’t beneath Marc. This is classic Marc fighting. 

So they now face one another. 

"What are YOU supposed to be?" 

"I am Ra's chosen sword. Here to strike you down. I'm the Sun King." 

"....Of course you are." 

"My purpose is to make your death a mockery. In fact, I wouldn't be doing my job if I just struck you down. It's gotta be so tragic that it means something." 

He goes on like this for a hot (LOL) minute. Honestly, Marc's heard it all before. This isn't the first time he's fought a guy with delusions of whatever he's got going on. 

At this point Diatrice shows up again and is pissed off that her swing set is on fire. 

Marc grabs her and makes a run for it. 

He asks her what her name is. She tells him Diatrice and that he already knows that. 

Marc is just caught up in the weird name. 

"Mommy let me change my name to whatever I wanted!" 

Which is super just... Considering she could never even bother to get Marc, Jake, or Steven's name right... Way to go Marlene I guess? 

Marc feels the same way. 

It's at this point that he runs BACK into the burning house holding his child for some reason? There's a note on the wall "We have your queen." 

Well, Marlene's been kidnapped. Not the first time. 

Probably for the best, honestly, considering she couldn't figure out how to use ANY of the exits that were surrounding her. 

Back at Marc Spector's apartment, we find Marc failing real hard at talking to his daughter.

So this means that Marlene told her that JAKE was not her dad and that her dad was a super hero. Meaning she pretty much told her that Marc was her father. 

Look. I know a couple of systems that have children. How they choose to discuss their DID with their children is up to them. Some chose not to discuss it at all until the kid is old enough to understand difficult concepts like this. But they also don’t hide it. None of the systems I know hide it from their children. The kids just learn to recognize the different members of the system, and to them, they are all “Mommy” or “Daddy” because that is the role that they inhabit while present. 

It falls back to the whole “Hold your system accountable” aspect of being a functioning system. It means that they hold each other responsible and they all understand that they have a child and must function as a parental figure to protect and care for their child. 

So the fact the Marlene is telling her that one of them is the dad and not the other… Hiding it from one and that Jake hid it from them. There is a disconnect here that is damaging and insulting. 

So we see her argue with Marc about him not being a super hero. He doesn't look or act like Captain America, he can't fly, and he looks tired and smells funny. 

He declares it was an 'off day'. 

But, it's what I love about Moon Knight in general. He's just a guy. He has zero powers. He's even a bit of an idiot sometimes. He's just a guy out there that takes a lot of beatings and has a lot of trauma that he works out while wearing a mask. 

As they talk, we see Jake, Steven, and Khonshu in the background watching. 

Honestly, fair. I have seen systems be put in situations where perhaps a member they don't really trust yet is present in a situation that could be dangerous to them in general. Perhaps a little is present when they shouldn't be. Perhaps a high trauma holder is present in a potentially triggering situation. Or perhaps a persecutor that has a history is out around a member of the family that they don't trust them to be around. 

You'll have the protectors and gate keepers VERY close by monitoring and ready to step in if need be. 

At least this is true in the systems I've spoken to. Feel free to sound off if you have other experiences. I love to hear from systems about their own experiences and how they handle the family situation. 

So now that they've argued on if Marc is or is not actually a super hero, she asks about her mom. 

He assures her that she isn't going to die because he's going to save her and "seriously hurt those bad guys". 

She asks if he likes Katy Perry. He says no. He asks if she likes Dazzler. 

So they put on a record of Dazzler and have some bonding time while Jake keeps watch. 

We head out to a high security prison to find some guards chatting. 

One of the guards is missing an eye and wearing an eye patch. 

He heads to a cell and asks the person inside to head to the city and get revenge for him. He wants him to kill Bushman. 

Hey look, The Truth guy is back. 

Considering the Truth guy ALSO got his eyes stabbed out... I'm not sure how he's walking around like that without any training or aid or anything... 

Also, this guy was seriously not that impressive as a bad guy. He's just big and has a 'scary' design to him. I'm not impressed by this attempt to make a recurring bad guy. It's just not an impressive reveal of a returning bad guy. 

So the Truth heads out of the jail easy peasy. 

Back in Marc's apartment, Diatrice is asleep and Marc is holding a meeting in the head space. 

You've got Marc, Jake, Steven, and Khonshu on a platform with Cthulhu in the background. I don't know. Do they think that the head space can just conjure anything based on need or emotion? Maybe it does? Maybe it doesn't? I Don't know. 

Apparently this is a recurring thing Khonshu does because Jake tells him "Khonshu... Don't you be giving me that "Cthulhu" Bullshit. Not you." And Steven agrees. "He's kind of right. We can't just use squids to explain all weird things in this world." 

You ready for this? I bet you aren’t. 

Yeah I… I’m gonna… I am not touching this. I don't have the time or energy to sit down and type up a whole manifesto on what's wrong with this page. 

And this is where the now famous line comes from:

Also let’s add some eating disorders to the mix. Why not? Do you have a disorder and feel left out? Don’t worry! I’m sure Bemis will get to that too! Not to mention there is a very underhanded homosexuality jab mixed in with that too! Blink and you’ll miss it, but this is a common way for older shows and media to take a jab at how wrong the GBLTQ world was. Make the villain have some latent homosexual tendencies, usually towards the main hero of the show. 

So now we see Busman, Truth, and Sun King hanging out. 

Truth is following them now, though apprently he sometimes accidentally uses his powers. 

They review a map and discuss where they want to go. 

Bushman tells them about a "Backwards tribe that I 'liberated' before we took over." 

Yeah cause that's... Hmmm. 

They decide to go t that island to start a "new eden". 

Sun King tells Marlene the plan in a gloating fashion. 

"You've gone so far as to tie up a super hero's girlfriend and you're bragging to her about your evil plan. 

You're not profound. You're a linkless wikipedia reference waiting to happen." 

Well, at least she gets that jab in. 

"Perhaps that's so. But I'm still going to kill your child while her dad looks on. Just to prove the uselessness of his cause." 

He tells Marlene he's going to use her to lure Marc to his doom. He also asks Truth to create an army. 

Back with Marc, he is telling her about Frenchie. 

Look, I've always been a big Jean-Paul Duchamp fan. I love him. It breaks my heart that things went the way they did and he eventually left Marc and they had a huge falling out. But I am happy Frenchie found love and has his own chance to be happy. 

Do not bring my poor Frenchie into this world of Bemis.

…I’m sorry, did Marc just describe Frenchie as “A father figure”?! In what universe? Who are these people that think he’s a father figure to him?! 

So Marc has called in Frenchie to baby sit Diatrice while he goes off to save Marlene. 

I'm just sighing right now. Because it's been established that Frenchie is not talking to Marc anymore. He isn't adventuring anymore. 

Frenchie lost both his legs in a mission gone wrong. He fell in love with his PT person and now they run a restaurant together. While Frenchie still misses the adventures, he also is tired of the PTSD and the pain that follows Moon Knight. 

This is just shoddy editing by team Marvel. 

Also this...

And this is how they ended this issue. Cliffhanger dead zombie Frenchie. Why is he in scrubs?

(It's at this point that I realized that Tumblr would only let me upload 30 images and I was going to have to break this up into more than two long ass posts. I'm so very very sorry.)

Part two will be linked very soon. Until then, I'm going to thank you for sticking around this long and hope you finish this rage filled adventure with me.

I'm going to admit that I am biased in not just hating Bemis, but also hating this art.

There are places for art like this. I've seen it utilized well in comics where the nature of the comics stands very well with this sort of art. Punisher Max for instance. For those that don't know, Punisher Max is a stand alone version of Frank Castle that was created in order to depict the ultra violence that Frank Castle is capable of in his search for justice and his never ending war.

The problem is that Moon Knight has gotten a reputation for being incredibly violent and unpredictable. You can probably thank Houston for that, but I'm sure the problem dates back to the 90s (always blame the 90s).

On the one hand, Marc is a former soldier, mercenary, and has anger issues. On the other hand, people have been using the excuse that "He's insane, of course he's going to be violent and unpredictable."

This has, most unfortunately, attracted writers like Bemis to the comic and then recruited artists that are more adept at drawing shocking gore or acts.

And even worse, this has attracted in a VERY specific fan base that reads comics looking for the gore, action, and hyper violence. They pick up an issue of Moon Knight, that has traditionally been based around dealing with mental health, classism, depression, and political issues.

These sorts of readers are easy to spot. They will list issues like Bemis, Aaron, and Bendis as their favorite issues. They will complain that newer stuff is boring or that they can't read the old stuff because it's too chatty. They want the action. they want to see Marc ripping a man's face off and biting out their throats.

Things like this are what goad on the perpetuation of Mentally I'll people being dangerous and scary and untrustworthy.

I'll touch on it more next time, but when we see things like this, it's so important that we don't put up with it. That we tell the big companies that Marvel, DC, and so on that we won't stand for this. That they are the problem. Don't put up with things like this. Don't put up with Bemis.

...Also I just really hate this art style. Every page feels SO static. Everyone is always just standing around grinning at things. Maybe I was spoiled by Bill Sienkiewicz, Declan Shalvey, Smallwood, and Alessandro Cappuccio. These people made even standing still look beautiful and full of life. They knew that sometimes just having Moon Knight standing in the rain could say more than words ever could.

PART TWO HERE.

Let's finish this bread.