#what makes you grow up into an adult is realizing that failure and doubling down on doing what you believe is right despite not knowing

[wutheringmights]

Can I be greedy and ask for all of the boys ? And any characters you have strong opinions on? Pretty please? With lots of cherries and chocolate on top? ( for the ask meme ofc)

Anon, I'll finish up all of the boys in the Chain just for you. And trust me, I have an Infinite Amount of Strong Opinions. You have no idea how Opinionated I Am.

If anyone is coming in late to this, here are the boys I have done already and a short summary of my thoughts (click the hyperlinks to get the full Opinion):

Warriors: he's best when he's the trashy anti-Link, and I like him so much

Twilight: kind of boring, but I have a soft spot for him anyway because you never forget your first

Wind: should have been aged up a little so that he can have that identity crisis I'm craving

This... gets long. Really long. 3-hours-of-work-long. Before you read, please note that even when I speak negatively about something, it’s not to diss anyone who does like the thing. I’m not vague posting or being passive aggressive. This is all written in good humor and good faith. 

That being said, let’s a-go!

-Sky-

What I love about them: He has one of the best character arcs of all the Links. I love that he starts off being lazy and kind of a jerk, but grows as a person because he wants to save his friend. And I love that he's truly the most courageous Link. He has no other successful hero of past or legacy to lean back upon to reassure him. He walked into that fight with Demise with no assurance from anyone that he would succeed. Yet, he does it anyway. Because he's a true hero and someone had to be one. And he's rewarded with a curse that he does not initially take seriously. He thinks he's saved everyone, yet he's cursed his spirit, possibly his bloodline, and his entire legacy of the kingdom of Hyrule into a doomed cycle of destruction. All because he dared to face evil incarnate. I love him.

What I hate about them: You know how I called Twilight boring? I should have saved that critique for Sky. LU Sky is actually the most boring interpretation of his character. All of his negative traits? Gone. All of his positives? Also gone. He's the blandest version of himself, and like Twilight, I now feel like I gotta add some spice to him to make him more interesting while still keeping him recognizable. Even so, he's still one of my favorite Links.

Favorite Moment/Quote: When he kicks Twilight's ass at sword fighting. That's stuff is *chef's kiss*

What I would like to see more focus on: You would think that there would be more angst out there about him realizing that he's actually been cursed, but it's still kind of hard to find. He's the Cursed Knight! The beginning of a terrible legacy! Imagine meeting a bunch of heroes for the first time, and instead of being relieved at having someone who understands your experiences, you're filled with horror at realizing that your victory was a false one. You didn't win. Your spirit will never be at rest. Imagine dealing with that realization for the rest of your life. You could never be at peace.

What I would like to see less focus on: I love that he loves his wife, but he's more just the fact that he's married, y'know? I would like to see a little less blind devotion to Hylia and Zelda, and more complicated feelings about being manipulated into being the hero.

Favorite pairing with: Sun/Link/Groose OT3! I have no reasoning behind this other than I like Groose and Groose definitely had a crush on SkSw Link.

Favorite friendship: I won't answer Groose again even if I want to, so I'll say Warriors. I cannot begin to describe how elite this friendship would be if you gave it a chance. They're just two boys dealing with unique positions of leadership and responsibility. They would probably even bond over being shitheads at different ends of the shithead spectrum. It's so good, okay?

NOTP: Ghirahim. I'm not too adverse to this one, but the ship hinges on whether you can redeem Ghirahim or not. In my opinion, Ghirahim is awesome because he's such a fun villain. Redeeming him ruins the fun.

Favorite headcanon: I have a whole life story planned out for Sky. Basically, he lives to be close to 500 years old by the power of the Triforce. He is the Link throughout the Era of Chaos who banishes the Dark Interlopers to the Twilight Realm and seals the Triforce in the Sacred Realm. He actually seals himself in the Sacred Realm as well to keep the Triforce safe, and he fought Ganondorf in when he broke in. Sky, like Time and Wind, does not get a happy ending.

-Four-

What I love about them: Four is origin of the heroes of Hyrule being known for being children. What a legacy to leave behind. He's such an interesting case of an incarnation of the Hero's Spirit, too. He fought Vaati, and he did his job so well that Demise's next incarnation had to be Ganondorf. Four did his job the best out of everyone, and it came at the cost of creating a magic sword that changed him permanently. I like to think that the Four Sword was not meant to split him, that it was a mistake he made with the design. And it's sad, isn't it? You made a defective sword, and like any good sword, it has a symbolic double edge. It gifted you with so much, and yet he can never be the same again. And his story is never well-remembered because it is overshadowed by the Links who fought the King of Evil. He's does so much, yet his legacy is underappreciated.

What I hate about them: I want to prepare you for this Opinion, because I know it's unpopular. Are you ready? Okay. I don't like the Colors. I'm sorry. I want to like them, but they don't interest me at all. Because they are parts of Four’s personality, they have to be one-note archetypes which does not make for exciting storytelling. I also haven't found a fic yet that has been from Four's POV that did the internal monologue of the Colors in a way that wasn't a pain in the ass to read. Maybe if someone can figure out how to do the Colors in a way that doesn't feel like a drag, I would like them more. But in the end, I think Four himself is more interesting than the Colors.

Favorite Moment/Quote: The fact that he didn't want to touch the Master Sword because he doesn't trust magic swords. That is every I need to know about his opinion on his own adventures.

What I would like to see more focus on: I want more of Four as Four. It's getting harder to find content of Four being his own person first and the Colors second.

What I would like to see less focus on: Four being the Colors first and his own person second. There is something about viewing Four as this cover identity for the Colors that doesn't feel right. There's a balance that needs to be strike between his ability to split, how that affects his every day life, and his own identity of being Four. I think I may have read one fic that hit that sweet spot for me, but still.

Favorite pairing with: Shadow. I'm such a sucker for befriending and falling for the enemy. That is all.

Favorite friendship: Dot! Their friendship is super cute. I like the idea of them being super close when they were younger and struggling to keep the friendship going as they age due to how much their paths in life diverge.

NOTP: This isn't necessarily a Four or an LU problem, but people who ship the Colors together? Bro. C'mon.

Favorite headcanon: I'm torn between two different Four and the Master Sword headcanons. On one hand, Four thinking that the Master Sword is just legend until he meets Sky and everyone else is just a fun idea. He sees the legendary sword for the first time and his mind is blown. On the other hand, I also like my Four with a side of hubris. What if he had the option on his quest to draw the Master Sword himself? What if he could tell that if he did that, the consequences would be terrible. He's not sure what would happen, but he knows it would be terrible. So he decided to make his own sword instead to disastrous results. Wouldn't that be tragic or what?

-Time-

What I love about them: Last winter, I did a two hour powerpoint for my friends about the Legend of Zelda timeline. During that powerpoint, I was rating every iteration of Link. What I said about the Hero of Time then holds true to my thoughts of LU Time now. Time is the original Link, more so than Sky in the lore and Legend/Hyrule in real life. Every other hero is a reflection of him. So the fact that his story is about the loss of childhood and the tragedy of that is incredible, and you can see those themes reflected in every other game. Moreso, he’s the only Link with a confirmed tragic ending. Not only does he end his life unsatisfied, but his adventure is failure on every timeline. In the adult timeline, Hyrule is swallowed by the sea. In the child one, Ganondorf returns again. In the fallen timeline, Hyrule fell. I like the idea since that the games themselves are the legends that are past down about each hero, Hylians have also remembered Time as a tragic figure. Yet, they also remember that the happy moments for his life come from small acts of kindness. Even someone as sad as him finds joy in helping others, even if it’s just to small deeds that will not be heralded as grand heroic quests. It’s beautiful.

What I hate about them: This is more about Mask than Time, but Mask is not an adult in a child’s body. He did not rewind time in Termina enough to be considered mentally an adult. He’s a young teenager at best, and that’s me being generous. He is a child who was forced to be an adult and despite the gods being done with him, he cannot conceive of ever having a childhood again. So he can say all he wants that he’s an adult, but he is not. That’s just what he thinks he is.

Favorite Moment/Quote: Anytime we get a flashback to him being a younger adult is great. I want to see more of his in this his early adulthood.

What I would like to see more focus on: I think I just want more of Time being... not a bad leader, but being an imperfect one. I honestly think he’s only the leader because he’s the oldest and enough of the heroes recognize the title of Hero of Time. But he is not the leader type, and he is struggling to keep it together and has to defer to Twilight and Warriors for help a lot. 

What I would like to see less focus on: I’m not the biggest fan of Dad!Time for any of the Links. He’s not emotionally ready for it. And I think he defaults to treating the boys like adults because that’s how he wanted to be treated when he was their age. 

Favorite pairing with: Malon. He has this great partnership of equal respect with her and it’s just. So good.

Favorite friendship: Linebeck. I know. This exists only in my head. But if these two ever meet, you cannot convince me that they would not get along swimmingly. It would be so good (once Linebeck gets over his crush on Time and stops hitting on him, of course).

NOTP: Child Timeline Zelda. Let me explain: I fully believe in Bi Time supremacy, and when in OoT, he definitely had a crush on Sheik. However, one of the worst parts of rewinding time and being in the child timeline is that Zelda is a completely different person now. They may have been friends in the other timeline, but her life experiences are completely different now. She is not the same person as he once knew. And it’s tragic to know someone as who they could have been, not as they are.

Favorite headcanon: After Termina, Time spent a lot of time with the Nabooru because out of everyone he knew, she’s the only who took him seriously even as a child. She has big older sister energy, and he considers her a part of his family. However, being treated as such made it easier for him to ignore his issues and put off his healing process by a few years.

-Legend-

What I love about them: Veteran of Heroes! What a freaking title. I love that he keeps on finding adventures, and that he keeps hustling. Even if he complains about never getting a break, you can tell that he loves helping others. He loves being on the road, never settling down, and finding adventure after adventure. Honestly, if any of the Links had a calling to be a hero, it’s him. Is he tired? Sure. Is he a little jaded after having saved Hyrule and a bunch of other kingdoms multiple times? Yes. But at the end of the day, he likes being a hero. This is who he is. His complaining is not genuine; he just plays the martyr because, at this point, he’s earned the right to.

What I hate about them: If you can’t tell by now, I have a, uh, different interpretation of Legend from popular canon. Fandom Legend is not right to me. He is unrecognizable. It is hard to write him because I feel like I have to balance what other people think Legend should be versus how I think he is. The people who are big Legend enjoyers probably feel the same way about my version of Warriors, and that’s fine. I’m not going to gel with every character and I don’t expect everyone to gel with how I see characters either. It’s goes both ways, y’know.

Favorite Moment/Quote: I like how subtly he tried to approach the Wolfie problem at first, trying to ask questions and get more proof before confronting Twilight. It’s a good touch.

What I would like to see more focus on: If I had to choose one thing, it’s this one throw away line about him never wanting to settle down. I’m telling you, folks! He likes his lifestyle! And did you see him when he does presenting the origins of the hero? He’s not bitter about being a hero! Legend is moody, but he is not angsty about the whole hero thing. Have fun with him please!

What I would like to see less focus on: If you can’t tell by now, Legend is my least favorite Link. There is a lot I want to see less of, but just to name one thing, it’s the headcanon that Fable is his sister. I live and die by common born Link, and whether he’s a legitimate heir or the royal bastard, I am more than bored with the persistent Prince!Legend content.

Favorite pairing with: Marin. It’s a good tragic story and I like it well enough. She’s cute, and he’s cute with her.

Favorite friendship: Warriors. I’m with everyone else on these two have peak sibling energy. They tease and pick on each other, but only they are allowed to mess with each other. They’re each other’s bully, and it’s always good to see.

NOTP: I do not have enough energy to have a lot of strong opinions about Legend’s romantic relationships, but I will mentioned that I have lost a lot of love for Ravio recently and am liking seeing him with Legend less and less. I have no better reason for this than the fact that I finally played ALBW and hate how many of my hard earned rupees he’s taken from me by withholding important, lifesaving items. Rat bastard.

Favorite headcanon: Remember my headcanon about him being the coolest bad boy folk hero on the block because everyone thinks he kidnapped Zelda? Yeah, I still stand by that one. I did good there.

-Hyrule-

What I love about them: If there is any Link that I would call a gutter rat, it is this one. I struggle a bit to talk about Hyrule since his games gives us so little, but in the end, I always fall back on him being a hero of the people. He is the one who has nothing and relates the best to people who are at their lowest. Yet, he is still a hero. He earns the right to be a hero because he helped Impa in her time of need. He’s selfless and competent. Even if he never got a traditional education, I bet he’s wicked smart too. He is the Link that symbolizes all of the parts of the Triforce the most. And, god. I cannot talk about him without mentioning the blood sacrifice part of LA. It’s such a cool concept, and I cannot imagine what it must be like to go from being the rough and tumble, win-at-all-costs fighting to protecting yourself first because if you don’t, the consequences are disastrous. It’s paradoxical, and it must be such a different mindset to fall into. But it must also be a blessing in disguise since now he has a reason to finally care about himself.

What I hate about them: Who started the Hyrule is innocent headcanon? Come over here because we need to exchange some words. If there is anyone who would be a realist and know how the world works, it’s this guy. And while we’re here, who came up with the Hryule is always lost headcanon? I also have some words for you. And you know what? WHILE WE’RE HERE, who let him be named Hyrule? I’m have more than choice words for you. His name scheme is the bane of my existence and the express reason why I don’t write him more. God.

Favorite Moment/Quote: That one panel where he takes utter delight in Warriors hiding from his scorned lovers? That is a central pillar in my understanding of Hyrule.

What I would like to see more focus on: Again, his relationship with other people. Even if his games are lacking in NPCs, we know from lore that he’s a good guy who will jump in to help others. He must know plenty of people, and I want to see who exists in his world with him. 

What I would like to see less focus on: I have an on-going joke with my brother that certain characters are Catholic, even if Catholicism does not exist in the world of the thing we’re watching or playing. Of course, we’re not being serious. we’re just joshing around. So imagine the gut punch I feel whenever I see people say Hyrule is Christian and realize that they’re being serious. I just can’t take it seriously.

Favorite pairing with: Aurora. It’s cute and I’m a sucker for that hero and royalty dynamic, especially when the hero is a peasant. It’s so cheesy, but I love it.

Favorite friendship: Legend. But not the way everyone else pairs them up as the grumpy one and the sunshine one. I think of it more as them being the pinnacle of boys being boys. They’re shitheads. They do stupid shit together. They both have a dark sense of humor. They joke that they’re practically the same person sometimes.

NOTP: uhhhhhhhhh.... Is he paired with anyone else?

Favorite headcanon: I love the idea that he just likes his way of life and refuses to accept anyone saying otherwise. Legend wants to teach him to read? Sorry, but he’s never had to read before in his life so he’s pretty sure he’ll never need it anyway. Want to participate in the treasured Hylian tradition of piercing your ears when you come of age? Why would he ever do that when a monster could rip those earrings off? He’s stuck in his ways and it frustrates everyone else to no end, but he has no interest in ever changing.

-Wild-

What I love about them: When I was 9, I spent my time online on Legend of Zelda forums. I remember one of my forum friends saying that they wanted a Legend of Zelda game where Link lost. And I think of that friend whenever I think about Wild. BOTW Link is the best Link that has ever been. He is the epitome of every trait we associate with any Link. He’s smart and sassy. He’s hard working and kind. But underlining all of that is the fact that he’s still the one who failed. If Demise’s Curse in SkSw is the set-up, the Great Calamity is the payoff. And I haven’t even talked about how confirming him as being non-verbal before the Calamity does so much for his characterization. I don’t even know where to start or how to articulate it. By game storyline alone, Wild is one of my favorites.

What I hate about them: You guys knew this one was coming, but I’m going to have to say it anyway. Fandom Wild.... not good. I’ve said it for half of these boys so far, but god is it true. I have a way I see Wild that is rarely done in the fandom. Fandom Wild has a lot of the traits I also see in Wild, but to all of the extremes. I will mention one thing in particular as being a pet peeve, and it’s how some people headcanon him as always being nonverbal. I know what they’re trying to do, and I think they’re on to something, but they’re also missing the point of what BOTW Link’s character arc is. I just wish more people would forget fandom and work more off of the games for how to characterize him.

Favorite Moment/Quote: Weirdly enough, my favorite moment is when he got mad at everyone for making fun of his Gerudo outfit, so he dumped Goron Spice in his cooking. It’s encapsulates a part of his character I think a lot of people forget about.

What I would like to see more focus on: I think he has a really complicated relationship with his past. He said himself that his old self felt like a different person, and I think that should be explored a lot more. That idea actually fascinates me so much that instead of CTB, I almost wrote a character study fic about Wild. His emotions are not as simple as feeling guilty about letting his friends die and not preventing the Calamity. His emotions would be so complicated and because I don’t have the time to explore it, someone else needs to do it for me.

What I would like to see less focus on: There is a weird fascination with Wild having memory loss and essentially being like a kid again. And this feels infantilizing to me. It honestly bugs me a lot every time I see it.

Favorite pairing with: I can’t decide between Zelda, Mipha, and Revali. They’re all different dynamics and they’re all good.

Favorite friendship: Paya. I firmly believe that Paya is Wild’s best friend. I am the only one in the world who believes this. But I am also the only one in the world who is correct. 

NOTP: Wild is good with everyone. Good for him!

Favorite headcanon: An essential scene of my Wild character study I will never write is one where his horse dies. He goes into shock and walks back to Kakariko to talk to Impa. But once he goes to her, he breaks down in tears and has an absolute melt down over the horse. And Impa sagely says, “It’s not about the horse, is it?” She’s implying that he’s actually mourning the loss of his friends, Hyrule, his life, everything-- but through his tears, he keeps tell her that she’s wrong. He barely remembers them. He doesn’t know them. He doesn’t have any feelings about them. He just really loved that horse. But Impa refuses to listen to him, just repeating over and over again: “it’s not really about the horse.”

And that’s it! That’s all of my opinions! I know a lot of my opinions are polarizing, but everything I said is in good faith, and I am not trying to diss anyone for how they approach these characters.

I welcome you to send me your Opinions on the Links, even if it’s just to disagree with me. I’m cool with it, and I like knowing what everyone else thinks!

[ladymischievous]

Here is My Completely Self-indulgent Medivh Essay! OKAY HERE WE GO!

Whenever I think about it, I find that Medivh’s situation was really a fucked up one. Possession by Sargeras aside, his story deals a lot with trauma, neglect, abuse, and the selfishness of a parent. I think it’s really easy to forget about all of that with Blizz’s writing and the fact that Medivh was a really powerful mage.

Medivh didn’t have a choice in things for the majority of his life. Ignoring Chronicle’s softening of Aegwynn (the only thing I actually liked that was added to her lore was her friendship with Moroes), she straight up used Nielas Aran to have a baby and then came back to use him as free childcare because she wasn’t looking to be a mother.

Disclaimer, Aegwynn is a complicated character who I really appreciate. She was a hero and probably the best Guardian, period. Yet, she was a very flawed character and I like that about her. She could be selfish, self righteous, and a smartass. Chronicle having her in love with Nielas and loving Medivh as her son is something I think took a lot away from her and the impact of her eventually bringing Medivh back. Aegwynn didn’t want love or to be a mother, she wanted to pass on the power of the Guardian to someone born from herself to spit in the eye of the Council of Tirisfal. Aegwynn did it because she considered them to be idiots and was petty.

Medivh was born with a future already chosen for him. He was to be the Guardian, he couldn’t be anything else. From the get-go, Medivh had little autonomy and it makes his mischievousness and eventual wilding out post-9-year-coma in the form of partying and living vibrantly make more sense. When you add Sargeras and him possessing Medivh since before he was born, it’s a double whammy. Medivh not only had no future of his own but was set up for failure from the very beginning.

I’ve always pictured Sargeras as being an abuser that gradually broke Medivh down. Whispering things to him throughout his life, making him think they were his own thoughts, gaslighting him, and suddenly stripping things away from him. Medivh had friends in Llane and Lothar, he also had his father. When he was about fourteen, the powers of the Guardian suddenly lashed out and killed Nielas. Medivh then fell into a coma that lasted for almost ten years. Medivh never got a chance to be a teenager and grow into an adult. He woke up and suddenly he was 23-24 years old. Lothar (now the kingdom’s champion) and Llane (now the king of Stormwind) had moved on in their lives, his father was dead, and time left Medivh behind. Physically he was an adult where he was likely still fourteen mentally. Medivh lost a good chunk of his life and likely would have felt horribly alone. I always figured a situation like that would be traumatizing and that would be something Sargeras would capitalize on. The long coma was just another part in his campaign to twist Medivh to his will.

But Medivh is the Guardian, he has to do his job, it was what he was born for. I could see this being the main reason he wilds out during his younger years. Trying to shake the trauma and anxieties, he clings onto things his loves and likes. He wants to make his own personality, his own choices, and his own life. He’s thinking like a teenager because, mentally and emotionally, he is one. This makes it easier for Sargeras to take advantage of him. To play on depression, anxieties, and the crushing weight the mantle of being the Guardian was.

Being the Guardian means you have amazing magical powers at your fingertips. You are Azeroth’s best line of defense, putting your life on the line to fight against threats that could decimate a planet. It’s also a lonely existence, since you have to keep your role a secret from the world at large. You have to forsake the ideas of relationships and being too close to people because you could make yourself vulnerable where you can’t afford to be. It’s a great honor to be the Guardian...if that’s what you wished to be. Again, Medivh never asked to be the Guardian, he was born to take on that role. So I imagine to him, it was more of a burden than anything else.

In Wrath of the Lich King, there’s an item you can fish from the Dalaran fountain called ‘Medivh’s Silver Coin’. It’s flavor text I think says a lot about Medivh and what he was going through. Sargeras and the Guardian were the dominant forces in his life, overshadowing who Medivh himself actually was as a person. It makes some of the new lore for him all the more tragic. Throwing parties, surrounding himself and filling his tower with people and things he liked. Only for it to be taken and destroyed once again by Sargeras. Moroes, who had survived the incident, seemed to legitimately care for Medivh. But having seen the horrors he did that killed so many of the tower’s denizens and party guests broke his mind. Medivh, out of care for the steward, sealed Moroes’ memories of the event away but he was never the same since. Thus put an end to Medivh’s gallas and vibrancy, he shut himself away as he fully realized his situation. Sargeras had taken everything from him.

So, who was Medivh as a person? Not the Guardian, not Sargeras, who is Medivh Aran? I think that when he’s able to make his own choices, Medivh is more inclined to at least try to do good.

In ‘The Last Guardian’, Medivh’s relationship with his mother is a complicated one. Aegwynn did abuse him with her reasons for giving birth to him and then neglecting him. Medivh understandably resented her but also still loved her because she was his mother. (Without going into anything from my personal life, I can understand the conflict of these feelings.) Sargeras at that point in his life had an iron grip hold over him, Medivh was his tool, his property. Using her own son, Sargeras spoke though him and called Aegwynn out on her bullshit. Right there Medivh could have killed her, instead he spared her and sent her away. Even with that anger and resentment he seized what autonomy he could and chose his love for her instead.

When Medivh was resurrected, free of both Sargeras and the Guardian, he chose to try to help Azeroth in what ways he could. Trying to warn them and nudge things into a better direction but events throughout ‘World of Warcraft’ undid a lot of it (the Bombing of Theramore being one example).

While the debate on whether Medivh is actually alive or is a ghost is still up in the air, I headcanon him as being alive. That Aegwynn gave him a new life to finally have for himself. The biggest issue being that Medivh is haunted by the events that happened to him. He’s a survivor, likely living as a hermit (and hating it) in his study, living with the trauma he’s stuck with. With him and Khadgar reuniting and apparently hanging out together in Karazhan, I hope that he can get a chance to heal.

If you read through all this, thank you, I hope that you enjoyed it.

​

[hekatekun]

Missed Opportunities: a look at 246 dynamics

This will be covering the relationships between Karamatsu, Ichimatsu, and Todomatsu. Specifically how they could be "better off" but for reasons aren't. Not blmatsu. A long post, but not particularly in depth. The great thing about Osomatsu-san is that things can be as serious as you want them to be; take all this with a grain of salt.

I would say the defining trait between 246 is that there is a lot of "missed opportunity" or "what could have been." You know, “things didn’t have to be this way.” More specifically, this is Karamatsu's relationship with the other two. Not that this cannot be remedied, but for now nothing is happening. Not any time soon, either. Probably. These aren’t shortcomings they’ll be getting over soon. Interestingly enough, I might have even said this was also applicable to 110 up until recently - so let's start there.

110MATSU: Something of a moving arc going here. Season 1 they’re at their most antagonistic towards each other, with their more docile moments occurring later in the season (most notably the hunt for 123 inside Dayon). Ichimatsu particularly, as Todomatsu has never been one to pick fights. He’s vindictive and isn’t afraid of confrontation, but doesn’t mean he wants to stick his neck out. Ichimatsu, on the other hand, has no qualms being aggressive. He will double-down on embarrassing the fuck out of Totty (as he should). If there is one thing the hivemind has taught all of them, it’s that no brother is above the other, and everyone will equally be dragged back to this self-made hell.

So S1 is the season of “no mercy,” but we see a shift! “ESP Kitty” lays Ichimatsu’s secret in front of everyone: vulnerability. Todomatsu (and 135) sees him like the normie he is for the first time in a real good light, a permanent change. Effectively, by “Dayon Tribe,” this lack of aggression when 456 are left to their own devices becomes a staple of the trio (if we ignore Jyushimatsu’s winter-induced insanity). 

In this same timeframe, Ichimatsu gets a real understanding of just how ruthless the crybaby youngest brother is. And by S2 they realize they have a lot more in common than they realized. A certain self-awareness that certain others lack. Totty could easily be lumped in with suiriku as a tryhard who doesn’t know when to quit, but it becomes apparent this isn’t the case. Sure, Totty’s a tryhard - he craves positive attention and will do what he can to get it, but he’ll never reach the level of Karamatsu and Choromatsu. 110 doesn’t need to “impress” each other. Completely vibing. They prefer each other’s company (and Jyushimatsu’s) over the other 3. They’re not each other’s favorite, by a long shot, but S2 they seem more comfortable around each other.

The movie provides a bit of catalyst, and S3 seems keen on keeping it apart of the continuity, so it’s not far fetched to assume their bonding moment in the movie is what led to their current relationship in S3. An ally has been established, and they can be more honest around each other as a result.

What’s “missed opportunity” is that they both underestimated the other, and what they have now could have been achieved earlier in life. Better late than never! However, they both still suck at communicating, but for now battling with barbed words or getting wrapped up in whatever holds their attention still shows they’re (usually) on the same wavelength.

ZAIMOKUMATSU: If Totty is similar to Ichi, it's not surprising he holds to same distaste for Karamatsu. Theoretically speaking, they should be each other's "brother." It's obvious that Choromatsu and Osomatsu are a "duo," and same with Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu. Whether you wanna include Oso-kun or not, it's evident that they do not click the same way the others do with their “designated brother.” 

Oso-kun makes it more “angsty” though, or at least makes this reboot interesting. If Zaimoku was more established as children, this clearly isn't carried to their adult selves. That's just life. They fell apart, growing up, and letting time split them naturally. They still like each other, hang out, but there's no real spark there. How can you when one of you refuses to break character. You could say they're similar to Nenchuu, preferring each other's company only in the greater group dynamic. We’ve established they're both tryhards, but Todomatsu has the self-awareness to know when to drop his pretenses, and doesn't understand Karamatsu's more irrational quirks. Sure, tryhards try hard but they're brothers - they already know each other. No need to impress. For Karamatsu’s part of it, I would say it’s both “always needing to be on top of his public image no matter who sees him (including brothers)” and just... He wants to dress like that. So painful.

Todomatsu’s “fatal flaw” within the group is that he’s quite disconnected from the hivemind. This a repeated issue they address, from “Todomatsu & the 5 Demons” to “Todomatsu’s Line.” He doesn’t understand certain social conventions that “make no sense” from experience. For instance, “Todomatsu’s Line” addresses how secretive he is, but he’s only secretive because he knows if he told them about his life they wouldn’t care. They’re only getting on his ass because he’s pulling away from them. The 6 of them are “all or nothing,” so even just one brother leaving is detrimental to their weird inner-brother politics. It gets rid of the facade they perform under, and must confront reality as a result. And so, they punish him accordingly. We know Karamatsu is already the group punching bag, and Totty soon joins him.

S3E5 “Well, Yeah” with these 2 fighting over the cashier, Karamatsu is willing to challenge him because he considers Todomatsu "harmless." Karamatsu is easily intimidated, we know this, but holds none of those sentiments towards Totty. They're both petty crybabies, and would rather tear each other down than team up.

Zaimoku is amiable with each other (for the most part), but typically avoid each other - or at least wouldn't seek the other out if it can be helped. A simple mismatch. Good thing they have 4 other brothers.

So, they're both the bottom of the barrel, and yet they never have each other's back. As with all 6, they’re self-serving. There’s safety in numbers, and they’re better off joining 4 than defending 1. They have created an environment that punishes whoever wanted to be the bigger man. In the most literal sense: nice guys finish last around these parts.

I could keep going. Todomatsu being banished to sea for a whole skit, Todomatsu being fired from the family, the entirety of the Karamatsu Incident. No one’s safe, but truly Zaimoku sits at the lowest tiers, even in the family. 

Leftovers who don't even want to pick each other. Can't blame them, they're both insufferable. They don't respect each other, either. 236 is committed to personas that they think will make people like them. They all more or less hold the belief of “I’m not like these guys, I’m better.” However, Choromatsu genuinely likes Karamatsu. Totty does not. How could he when all he sees is a cringey dude who doesn’t know when to call it quits? Choromatsu is just as bad, and doesn't really consider Karamatsu anything but "harmless."

Being left alone and behind is the worst thing for them, but yet they still don’t want each other, even if they’re “clearly the easiest choice.” That sense of being the “default” choice, rather than a legitimate connection or personalities that get along. Another similarity to Nenchuu, where they’re better off being friends than not out of convenience.

IROMATSU: Take what I just said about Zaimoku and amplify the negativity. Rather than a natural falling out, it is a repeated violent rejection on Ichimatsu's part. It's genuine animosity, because Ichimatsu hates tryhards who lack self-awareness. It's no surprise he doesn't care for Suiriku's company and, until recently, Todomatsu's. The thing is, Ichimatsu is a tryhard. He tried hard in high school, and, though in the opposite direction (”I’m not like these guys, I’m worse”), continues to try hard now.

Concerning Karamatsu, he is equal parts resentful and envious. If the movie implies they used to be friends around high school, it wouldn't surprise me if he resented Karamatsu's "transformation" because Ichi was unable to get over his own issues ("regressing" after high school, though really considering how taxing it was to keep that up he’s probably been burnt out). So yeah, introvert buddies.

He admitted to Choromatsu he finds those who still try even in the face of failure "scary." Ichimatsu's greatest fear is putting himself out there and still being rejected despite his best efforts. That's, again, just how life works, but it's a valid fear to have. 

Seeing Karamatsu, someone he considers legitimately stupid, still put his best foot forward (probably on some level) does feel like a slap in the face. It's also just. Painful. Another cringeass clueless older brother, another ally lost.

(Also I can’t ignore how it’s Osomatsu - one of Ichi’s favorites/most tolerable brothers - is the one who calls Karamatsu’s support “teasing” after claiming himself Ichi would kill his own boss; Osomatsu knows how to talk to each brother in a way they’ll understand)

The difference between Zaimoku and Iro is that the former is always played off as joking and while the latter is still funny and over-exaggerated, it usually also comes across as “Did this cross a line?” It tips into real malevolence because, not only does Ichimatsu act opposite how he feels (except for cats), but even in comedy there’s always a hint of sincerity. They’re all cartoonishly violent, but that comes with the idea that that’s actually how they feel in some form. Ichimatsu can’t handle direct support and attention, and he certainly wouldn’t want it from a guy whose social anxiety is worse than his.

And throughout all this, Karamatsu just... ignores it. He doesn't get it, he probably wouldn't even want to know. He legitimately wants to be like this, and doesn’t really get how others don’t find it as attractive (like how Choromatsu doesn’t get why talking about his aspirations isn’t wanted in conversation - they’re not really ones to read the room when it comes to their own shortcomings). So he "avoids" 110. No point seeking out their company and be rejected for "no reason." He doesn't want criticism, and none of them want communication. I should reiterate, this is all comedy. It’s funny. I love it! But it’s slapstick with thought. 

Short-sighted, they prioritize instant gratification above anything else. The end result, unsurprisingly, is a group of brothers who find it impossible to talk to each other - to bully and harass - when they could do better for one another.

[maskedmuses-archived]

Snake of Golden Wings

This is a story of how a mother molded a man. 

Please be advised of the following tags: tw death, tw mental abuse, tw abuse, tw child abuse. Readmore for content and length.

Within Rusephine’s domain, good fortune had always been categorized by the colors white and gold. When the queen had produced a pearly egg, the kingdom had rejoiced, thinking her to have consummated a relationship with a new found king after three hundred years of rule. Whispers of a visitor from the Reptile Kingdom joining Rusephine had come to fruition when Gyasa, prince of the Snakes, had been discovered leaving behind the woman and egg he had helped borne into this world to return to his jungle.

There was no celebration when there was no King to accompany their Matriarch. No merriment when the egg shifted towards a gold, then twisted to a green sheen across its shell. Only fear erupted, when the crown prince emerged from the cracks in his birth casing. Golden hair dribbling down his face, and green eyes pupiless stared up at his mother, who glowered at the hatching of her only child.

Ensuring he imprinted upon her, Rusephine made eye contact merely once in the birthing room to bestow the hatchling a name: Osiris, the ancient human god of death. Then, with a purposed step, turned away from her newborn son, never to meet his gaze again for the next few years.

As a young child, he only aimed to impress his mother, to get her to look upon him with a smile without any success. Whether he made small drawings, or behaved well, nothing but a scowl was given before his mother would retire into her locked room, incapable of penetration by any aside whom Rusephine allowed.

His tiny wings began to flourish, the golden color predicted by his egg’s hue giving them a glittering color as he tried to flap and use them, honing his skills for flight. His body grew lanky, his tail stretching to accommodate his form, but the reptilian aspects taking form. Points along his canines, the skin that sloshed off of him in baths, his pointed ears coated with soft scaling.

Of course, there were those eyes that even the servants within the palace would not look directly upon.

Once Osiris managed to hover for more than a few seconds, he requested an audience with his mother. A proud child of five, able to hover longer than any else who had wings double his age, displayed the ability before his mother in the royal throne room. As she stared upon her creation, Rusephine’s face was cemented into a frown before she extended her hand, her feathers shooting out and surrounding his wings.

“No monster like you should be flying without permission.” Her voice echoed in the hall, striking his chest hard. Pain began to surge through his wings, his mother’s feathers crackling with a hellish static. A cry resounded in his head, only to realize it was his own screech as the power from the General took to his wings. Suspending them in time, they no longer grew, stumped, and the pain was blinding as he fell to his knees.

Nothing hurt more than the pain of being considered a monster.

Months began to pass and with the inability to fly, Osiris had become trapped within the palace. Creeping about and exploring new ways to make his home more interesting, Osiris stumbled upon guests that had been invited to their home. They were humanoid, one of them very pregnant. They had come to check up on his mother. A meeting of the Generals, as it would be later told to him by his room’s guard.

Crawling out of the vent in his room and to peer upon the meeting, eight adults surrounded a table, the boy finding it fascinating. All different people with so many names, Osiris had only ever seen bird-like Enterrans before. One was a large Taurian of sorts, one aquatic, one that seemed like a lion, one armored and bug like, a blond like him, who had fearsome green eyes. Then, there were the two humanoids.

The brunette, who began to speak, sounded kind. “Rusephine, Osiris seems to be growing very well. You should send him to Shindou sometime.” A gentle pat to her swollen stomach. “Koyakumo will need someone to look after her.”

“He is not some caretaker for your spawn, human.” Rusephine spoke flatly, riling the male humanoid before letting out a sigh. “I will consider visiting your little village when he is older. He needs to be taught his duties first.”

A huff came from the blond man, who crossed his arms and frowned at the Bird Queen. “He ought to learn it from his father. After all, my cousin may have his own quirks, but you did allow him into your chambers without any consult.”

A fist slammed down on the table, eclipsing the small gasp from the rafters, feathers bristled, but the woman was smiling. “Ryuma, you know I dislike mention of him at these meetings. Shall we move on from talking of our progeny, when you have none after your failure to make the human your bride?”

The silence that fell upon them was ignored as Osiris began to shift quietly away. He had a father. A father! He wanted to know more and plotted to greet the guests as soon as they left.

Crawling back to his room and bursting out of the room he had been sequestered in, the boy rushed down the hall, encountering the group as they began to exit. The female human had spotted him, and tugged on the male’s arm at her side, beckoning him to look. The violet haired man turned, the small child coming only to his knee.

“May I…May I visit you?” He blurted out. “You and your egg?” He pointed towards the brunette’s stomach causing laughter to ring from the woman as she nodded.

Smiling down upon the boy, she leaned down, gently patting his head. “Come any time you like, Osiris.”

A gasp emitted from his tiny frame. “You…know my name?” The two nodded, before Ryuma began to encroach.

“I’m sure Rusephine calls him something quite different.” As the woman’s hand began to move away from his golden locks, the man’s fingers extended down, giving him a small tap along the head. “I’m sure the boy hasn’t heard his name in years.”

“Ryuma!”

“Don’t scold me, huma—Yakumo.” A glance towards the male beside the woman made Ryuma reconsider his words. “Just because Mushra has bested me before does not make me wrong.” A turn and wave to them before he walked beyond the large doors, leaving behind the couple that had stopped. Both of them offered a smile to him before waving and giving pursuit to the other general.

Osiris stood in awe for a moment. A smile, a kindness. His name. It was all so new, his clawed fingers coming to touch the top of his head where he had been patted and given affection. Yet, it still felt empty; he only yearned it from his mother.

Sneaking out into the world had become common place for him when his mother’s attention was distracted by the Generals—people she had come to learn and understand their roles in the world as he grew—and met with the people in the city. Most were afraid of his appearance, but appreciated the help he could muster to them, from carrying groceries, to helping people with household chores.

Finally, cultivating enough bravery from those he helped, Osiris mustered enough strength to approach his mother once more. To ask to fly to this place that had been established: A city called Shindou.

“Alone? Little monster, are you mad?” Rusephine scoffed before looking away. “Guards—“

“Mother, if I am to be a good heir, don’t I need to see the world?” That was what he had deemed his role as a prince was, to become the successor to her throne. To make her proud. With how suddenly the Queen was upon him, her fingers digging into his face to the point he feared he might bleed and the rage swirling in her eyes, Osiris realized in an instant he had been far too mistaken.

“You are not my heir. I will rule for all time, do you understand?” A hastened nod that made her grip tighten painfully was made from his frame. “Good. Now, we can put this to rest—“

“If I see this place, I can become of better use to you!” Osiris sputtered out, his mother releasing his face and staring upon her son as he began to explain. “I…I can fly there and we can use this.” Plucking one of his small feathers, he knelt down and offered the golden gift to her. “My power can communicate with you. I can tell you if they are plotting anything. So that way, no one can challenge your authority!”

Silence fell between them, only the sound of the guard’s armor shifting nervously as Rusephine inspected the feather. Finally, her hand came down, placing firm upon his crown. “What a good little thing you are, thinking of your mother.” Slipping her hand away, Osiris was able to peer up, seeing his mother, wings expanded, and a smile stretched across her features. Truly, she was angelic and the boy felt weak before her.

“Let’s restore those wings of yours, my little monster.”

Shindou was a wondrous place to Osiris. All sorts of people were bustling around and finding the two who led the city—Mushra and Yakumo—hadn’t been easy. Practically lost, it was a small voice that had found the boy. “Hello!” Sounding akin to a chirp, confusion filling the prince as he glanced about, only for the voice to beckon once more. “Down!” It offered out.

The boy dipped his head, finding a violet haired child bowing to him before lifting up and smiling broadly. “Birdy!” She giggled out, he furrowing his brows in confusion until the girl pointed at his wings. “Mama said to find birdy!”

Once he arrived at the home of the Generals, Osiris had learned that was not what Yakumo had told the child, Koyakumo. Instead, she had told her to find someone with wings, but the three year old barely knew what that meant, so her father had clarified it was like a bird.

Osiris already felt tired and he had just arrived. Feeling as if this might have been a mistake, he turned, but his shirt was tugged on by the child, beckoning him to look back at her. When he did, he expected her to cower, just as all other children did. But instead she stared in awe at him, her mouth forming a circle in surprise. “Birdy has pretty eyes!” She cheered out, boy’s cheeks turning a bright red with a sputter.

It was a first, and the woman, Yakumo, swooped in to garner her child. “Forgive her, she speaks her mind ever since she learned to talk. Reminds me of someone I know.” A playful gaze was thrown to Mushra who chuckled. “Make yourself at home, Osiris.”

Home. That was what Shindou became for the boy.

Especially when it was where his father could meet him without the hounding from his mother.

Osiris had not held up his end of the bargain, instead giving his mother some information, but not all of it. Some that had been withheld was that of meeting with Gyasa within Shindou’s walls. It had been his mother that banished the prince from seeing his egg, and truthfully, the man seemed grateful. As Osiris grew towards a man, the more and more he realized the Snake Enterran would never have offered more than simply conflict within his life.

But the rebellion felt nice. The doors began to open to Osiris and upon his sixteenth year, he was openly helping the city, quelling their fears of him and instead his connections began to rise, not only of the other nobles, but of the common people. However, no matter what, any say of his succession was squashed, his mother always on the tip of his silver tongue.

She only left his mouth when his chambers were filled, those wishing to taste royalty, and deprived as he was, Osiris welcomed them, even without any enjoyment of his own. They smiled at him and relished his presence.

Even if they avoided his eyes.

The playboy was settled in his life, at least, until a visit when he was seventeen, and Gyasa had brought with him an attendant that wanted to meet his lord’s son. Older than him, the man was a reptile Enterran, a long green tail and scaling around his eyes and shoulders. His golden eyes were enticing, and despite being within the center of Rusephine’s domain, Osiris welcomed his father and his guest, Dipil, into the palace for the former to have conference with his mother.

The latter? Within days has Osiris wooed and welcoming him into lover’s embraces, all other expelled from his chambers in favor of his lover.

For the first time in years, things had seemed to be going well for the man, he was in love. He finally felt like the walls of the palace were a safety, not a prison. He could relish his company and fall asleep in his arms. A blissful dream.

But nothing more than that.

On the eve that Gyasa was to depart, a small glimmer of steel reflected the moonlight that filtered into the prince’s chambers. Dipil awoke the naïve man with blade to his throat, threatening to end his existence. He was a danger to those in the reptile kingdom. A posed false king among those in the actual ranks who worshiped his father. “Who could ever really love a monster like you?” A hissed out insult that snapped the last thread of hope in his heart.

“I do.”

The woman’s voice radiated, the reptile hissing as he was lifted up from atop his former lover’s frame, instantly his limps being split by razor sharp feathers. Blood rained from above, splattering the prince with crimson, which cleared only when tears rushed down his cheeks, leaving pale streaks in their wake. His mother stood at the door, holding the feather he had given her years before. “I never trusted this man. Finish this, Osiris.”

A command from his Queen, his mother, Osiris could not refuse. His body moved on its own, green stare unable to break away from Dipil. A trembling hand reached for his longer feathers, intending to turn them to steel, as the barely living man whispered from above. “…I’m sorry. I love you.”

Before Osiris could strike, the man disintegrated into a card, which felt helplessly through the air and landed upon the floor. The prince crumpled to the ground, weakened, and Rusephine rushed in, wrapping her arms and wings around him, pulling his feeble frame close to her chest.

“It’s alright now.” Tears were renewed along his face, confusion lighting his features as his mother hugged him. “This is why you should listen. Why you should never leave. People will want to kill you, no matter how much good you do in this world. Do you understand why?”

Shaking his head, Osiris couldn’t comprehend. He had done everything, given everything, done everything to know what love was. Rusephine smiled, leaning close to his ear with a small whisper.

“Because you’re a monster that only I can love.” Her smile turned wicked as the light began to dim from Osiris’ eyes. “Do as I say, stay here with me, and we can rule this world, together. Have whatever toys you want, but in the end?” Pulling her face back and placing her hand on his bloodstained cheek, the boy unable to divert his gaze from the woman’s. “I shall give you whatever you wish, as long as you obey me. None else shall suffer this fate.” Her wing brushed against the fallen card, scratching into it. “As long as you be a good little monster and offer me all of your power whenever I call upon it.” Her smile turned tender, a gentle stroke of her thumb against his cheek. “Do you understand, Osiris?”

“Yes…Mother.”

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Winner’s Curse Ch. 8

CJ stalked the cold, gloomy alleyways that lined the street to the docks with a brazen whistle and jaunty step. A proverbial sore thumb compared to the adults and small Vks who scurried about with shuffling steps using the shadows as cover from the watchful eyes of the Coven.

“As if they would care about the doings of cowards and sidekicks.” CJ thought to herself. She had only been back in the Isle for a few days, possibly weeks, time was never a sure thing for CJ, and she had pieced together a little of what had happened when she was gone.

Some big name villains had gotten their magic back and were ruling the Isle with an iron fist, no one was allowed to do anything without their permission, children and sidekicks were punching bags for others, some sort of new hierarchy, etc.

CJ didn’t particularly care. She wasn’t going to stay here for long anyway. She was meant to live on the high seas and after seeing all the booty that she could plunder from places like Camelot Heights and Charmington, she had a growing desire to return to Auradon. A land filled with gold and magic and all sorts of princess to scare and seduce unlike this island of delusional madpeople.

And she was going to plunder and steal on the Seven Seas on the Jolly Roger. Her birthright.

Just as the golden compass that she took from its’ hidden, crocodile-ridden vault on Neverland that used to belong to the once glorious Captain James Hook, that Jolly Roger was another piece of her great legacy. It would aid her in her acts of treachery and it would be a sign to all her future enemies that her scourge was coming. iT would strike fear into their hearts even before they saw a glimpse of her.

She wanted to be the most vile, bloodiest pirate that ever lived. More dangerous than her father, more wanted than Calico Jack, people would say Blackbeard was the male CJ Hook. She was dangerous in her own right despite what these idiots on the Isle thought. She was always third. Behind Harriet even though Harriet hardly did anything but keep up the Jolly Roger and occasionally entered a bar brawl, and behind Harry who was practically Uma’s whipping boy.

Voluntarily Uma’s whipping boy and first mate. It was disgusting.

When she was young she had envied and idolized her brother for his fierceness and the hook he used to slash people’s throats for daring to not follow his orders. But ever since he fell for Uma and pledged his life to serve her, she lost her respect for him. Why be a first mate when you could be a leader and take the best share of booty for yourself.

It was a universal rule not to fall for anyone on the Isle. It made you dependent and weak. Yet Harry was clearly hook over his head devoted to Uma and that seemed to make him stronger. Harry fought like an untamed animal with Uma by his side whenever someone treaded on their turf or insulted their gang. People feared him more now than ever, not daring to speak a bad word about Uma or him. They said he was insane. They said he killed for fun, a true sadist.

She hijacked her way to Auradon, she stole a whole roomful of treasure, she’s been living the good life on the seas without a tie to anyone, a leader unto herself. And she was still second-place to Harry, a pirate who was no leader, just a first mate.

It was just like that when they were kids. Her father treated Harriet more or less with respect or left her alone since she took care of things when he was off drinking until he could see and defeat his hallucinations of Peter Pan. He more or less ignored Harry seeing too much of himself in the boy, seeing his failure in the future. Her, she was his favorite, she knew that. Sure, he didn’t like it when she talked to him, he wasn’t a fan of kids talking or kids in general, but he would treat her mildly better like teaching her the proper way to stab someone. But it was clear that he had no hopes for her to grow into her pirate legacy or any of her capabilities. 

Apparently, he thought her siblings had more raw skill and she had too much of his obsessiveness.

Fine, he was right she was obsessed. Obsessed with treasure, with being a pirate, with being great. She was going to get her own treasure. Steal it from her own father. Like a true treacherous pirate.

He would hate her.

Good, she hated him.

Hook was a greedy man. Wouldn’t be such a fearsome pirate otherwise. He refused to give up any of his possessions to his children. They hadn’t “earned” it. Or as he usually yelled at them, “You’re supposed to be fucking pirates! Get your own treasure!” That declaration led to the bitterest resentment in her piled near the times he forgot her existence in favor of talking to her siblings, doubting her, agreeing with the rest of the Isle. Placing her fourth behind the rest of the family.

She would prove them all wrong, and make them pay.

Her angry thoughts echoed with her pounding footsteps as she kicked the hollow wooden wall behind Madame Medusa’s casino that had formerly been the diamond plunder’s basement, now Lady Caine’s lair.

CJ would have liked to make a dramatic entrance, much like the one she did at the Auradonians silly Neon Lights Ball  but she sadly didn’t not see any vines or ropes to swing from so she settled for bounding down the stairs and brandishing a sword.

Brandishing her sword in a dark, empty room apparently, the only light coming from a small window.

The basement was much larger than she thought basements were supposed to be until she realized she was in a small entrance room and she had to go through another door. The door led through a stone hallways, it’s only light coming from the cracks of the wooden ceiling which CJ figured must be the floor of the casino. Some stones had been chipped and the place reeked with mildew and dust but it was also decorated to intimidate.

There were blood splatters and spare limb joints wedged in corners of the walls, rusty swords bent with decay that had been stuck to the wall and unable to be removed. Posters buxom female pirates and males with broad chests holding knives in their mouths were crudely tacked up alongside “Wanted” signs of Lady Caine’s gang.

CJ recognized some of the pirates from the stories Harriet used to tell. The heartless Blackbeard, the infamous Davy Jones, and CJ’s favorites, Anne Bonny and Mary Read, Grace O’Malley, Ching Shih..

“Hmmm I like her too.” A female voice purred, sidling up to her side. It took most of CJ’s composure not to jump at the sudden presence of whom she instinctively knew to be Lady Caine and forced herself to smooth her face into a wicked grin as she faced the self-proclaimed “Queen of Thieves.” 

The older pirate was a bit shorter than her, reaching to her nose but that didn’t lessen her intimidating presence. In fact it just made CJ even more on guard knowing that it was likely Lady Caine would find a sneaky advantage like hitting her in the crotch or some other unprecedented move using the dagger at her belt. 

The rest of her body was less intimidating since toll of the Isle showed. She was skinnier than CJ so it made her corset look like it was hanging limply from her body rather than pushing up ‘the goods.’ Her hair was limp too, and straggly from lack of clean water and constant sea mist.There was an uneven spread of muscles on her arms tempered with some new and healed-over scars, one that even went through her skull and roses tattoo on her right shoulder. Her left leg was clearly injured since she favored to lean on her right and CJ could see the spread of blood seeping through her tent-canvas pants. The one piece of jewelry, a skull necklace was cracked and rusting over making it look more like a demented clown. 

What really brought the scare factor was Lady Caine’s face. Her mouth was set into an unnerving casual smirk. The kind that implied she was the type of person to arrange for someone ‘to swim with the fishes’ simply because she needed something to do to fill her time. Yet her smile didn’t reach to her eyes. No, her eyes were too guarded, menacing, immediately telling CJ that if she tried to double cross her, than Lady Caine would return the favor. Ten-fold. 

“Yes, she has quite the treasure chest.” CJ commented. 

“Heh, I meant I wouldn’t mind taking over her nine hundred squadron fleet to raise a little hell,” Lady Caine raised an eyebrow, her brown and shoddily red-dyed bangs brushed against CJ’s cheek as the older women got into her personal space. “But I can share your admiration for her figure too. Would she be any competition for that voodoo sorceress you’ve been with?”

CJ forced herself to breath normally through her mouth despite her sudden wildly thumping heart. Unexpected and unwelcome memories filled her mind, pushing the faded poster of Ching Shih away. 

Freddie’s dark lips, stained with purple berries that brought out the highlights of her kelp green eyes. Those same lips who created enticing and persuasive arguments with her ‘velvety’ voice coaxing new sounds out of her as they glided across her body. 

Her nimble hands easily able to pickpocket and grope with none the wiser than she, but CJ always knew because she knew that girl. Her tricks of trade, her facial tics, what sent her over the edge in the most pleasurable sense of the world.

That was until CJ had been totally blindsided when Freddie decided to become independent. She knew Freddie had a stubborn streak, which Freddie would retort that she wasn’t stubborn, she was practical, not carrying the obsessive Hook madness. But for Freddie to abruptly tear away from her to have her own dreams was something CJ never thought would happen. Freddie had always seemed to content in helping her with her own schemes, she said she found keeping CJ under control to be entertaining which would be followed by a night of dark magic and ecstasy.

“Of course not.” CJ barked out a hearty laugh and tried to move the conversation to safer, less complicated, emotional areas as well as keep her mind off the stunning spawn of Facilier.

“The girl is my sidekick. My pet. My Auradon pet since she insists on becoming a famous singing star for those goody goodies. She’s not at all like Ching Shih. What I would give for a nine hundred boat squadron which brings me to the important thing. How am I getting the Jolly Roger?”

“We’re getting the Jolly Roger.” Lady Caine corrected leading her toward a bigger room which CJ could tell had used to be used for storage due to the familiar musty smell of aged alcohol. The large boxes had been shifted and carved to form makeshift chairs, weapons were hung or stabbed haphazardly around the place and in the center was a wooden throne which Lady Caine lazily slouched upon, looking at CJ up and down with amusement.

CJ pulled out her sword again, glaring at Caine threw slitted eyes. “Not the deal. The Jolly Rogers mine.”

“Relax. I don’t want that ship, I have my own. I just have my own plans for your father once we steal it in front of bloodshot eyes.” Lady Caine smirked malevolently, “He still drinks, doesn’t he?”

CJ faltered a little when she realized that wasn’t a rhetorical question, “Uh maybe. I don’t associate with him. I’ve been Auradon.”

“I’ve heard about that. Now that is something people should talk about more. You got into Auradon on your own. No pitying help from Prince Furrball. No ‘turning good,’ turning their backs on us so we could rot in hell while their mushy goodhearted brains sleep on pillows. You lived up to your wickedness, CJ.” Lady Caine cocked her head, looking oddly at CJ. Her eyes glinted with a strange happiness and her mouth curved in a genuine smile like when Captain Hook envisioned himself killing that dratted green boy. So proud of his imaginary accomplishment.

Proud. That was what Lady Caine looked like. Not proud of herself but proud for CJ.

CJ’s staggering realization that someone was actually proud of her was tempered by the words sinking in, “No one talks about me and my accomplishments? I have stolen loot from Merlin!”

“Exactly. They still speak of your brother and his violence, but not your greatness. It’s ridiculous. Descended from two great pirates..well I’m a great pirate, your dad-” Lady Caine waved her hand as if she couldn’t quite describe the numerous fatal flaws of Captain Hook in words.

“Yeah…” CJ wasn’t sure how to continue, another odd feeling, she had always remained sure and in control most of her life, “How did-How are you my mother? Dad despises you. He has dreamed of you and Pan being crushed under his stern.”

“And I despise him as well. It’s complicated. I wasn’t in the right mind when I did it. I was drunk, we were fighting, his Hook slipped and instead of scratching me it kind of went the hot and sexy route..huh? That actually wasn’t very complicated now that I say it out loud.” Lady Caine shrugged, wiping a hand over eye and smudging her heavy eyeliner. It sort of reminded her of Harry. 

Truthfully as she looked longer at Lady Caine she found it difficult to see the resemblance between her and her supposed mother. Lady Caine’s brown hair matched more with Harriet and the eye-liner, totally a trademark of her brother. Maybe..just maybe if Lady Caine ate more and filled out, CJ would be able to see if they have the same slender figure, and if she wiped away the magenta lipstick, maybe they had the same lips.... 

“And you’re not Harriet’s or Harry’s-” “No.” Lady Caine vehemently denied, “I would remember if I slept with that son of a bitch more than once, especially if I was pregnant afterwards. Just once is enough for me. What else do you think the C in your name means?”

CJ hadn’t meant to look so shocked but she lost her control, her eyes bugged out and her jaw dropped, “The C is for Caine?!”

Lady Caine burst out laughing, getting off her chair and back to CJ’s side, “No again. Your dad named you and he would never choose something that referenced me. You should have seen the look on your face though. Ha!”

Once CJ’s heart resumed its normal rhythm, she managed a weak laugh, “Okay great. But seriously, the Jolly Roger. What’s the plan? I want that boat.”

Lady Caine looked like she was about to laugh again, but she refrained seeing the seriousness in CJ’s eyes. “There’s no official plan...yet. But you will be in charge of it since you know Hook’s turf better than I do.” A part of CJ’s gut pinged at Caine’s words. It felt wrong somehow. Too easy that the “Queen of Thieves,” known for her hard will and controlling way would just hand over the plan to CJ, even if she was her child. Yet CJ swelled with ambitious excitement. She was finally getting the respect her reputation deserved. She could totally plan and execute a way to take the Jolly Roger.

“What do you want with all this?” CJ questioned, giving in a little to her gut feeling and eyeing Lady Caine warily.

“Like I said, I have my own score to settle with Hook. And a small favor. I want to use the Jolly Roger to storm Corona.” “You see, CJ, long before you were born. Before Auradon or the Isle or any of this existed. I lived in Corona. My father was a petty thief that King Fredric jailed because he couldn’t stand any sort of criminal. Murderers in cells with domestic abusers and first time offenders. It was Corona’s own version of the Isle. The first one. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Beast took the idea from him.

My father died in that prison since he couldn’t compete with the big guns. I grew up on the streets which was for the best I suppose ‘cause look at me now.  

But that self-righteous King Fredric has the balls to send me with common criminals and louses all over again. Off with his head along all the rest of those do-good bastards.”

“Off with their heads?” CJ laughed, giving the moment some levity, “You sound like the Queen of Hearts.”

Lady Caine glared at her, visions of anger and blood quite evident on her face, “Tie them to the rack, firing squad, crucifixion. Whatever you want. The point is those Auradonians will suffer, and they will not live.” 

———————————————————————————————————

Jordan inhaled deeply before knocking on Ben’s office door.

This was it, today was the day, no turning back.

After getting those cliches out of her head, Jordan paused to make sure that the rumbling of her stomach was just hunger from being too nervous to eat dinner and not impending throw up out of nervousness.

Yet before Jordan could knock on the door, Ben flung it wide open. She was starting to wonder if Ben was some door opening psychic for the past five times she visited this week to go over Operation: Defeat the Coven (official more badass title still in progress), he always opened the door before she knocked. Either she was a very loud presence or Ben was always waiting for someone to bother him.

She had a feeling it was the latter since he was King of Auradon and all, which seemed sad. She knew she would go crazy if she had people constantly knocking on her lamp all the time asking to fix some crisis or other.

Well, people used to do that to her lamp, but after sending those people off in a sandstorm, almost everyone learned to leave her alone. Just how she liked it.

"Hi, Jordan! Are you ready to beat some baddies?" Ben enthused, sounding unusually chirpy and breathless.

"Baddies? Really? No wonder you got caught so quickly on the Isle." Jordan shook her head with amusement.

"Yep, that's me." Ben said, pushing her back so he could close the door behind him, smiling way too brightly and nervously swishing his bangs out of his face as if that would make him look more casual.

Yeah, he was hiding a girl, or he was watching porn. She had seen Aziz act with this sort of bad nonchalantless plenty of times whenever she popped by his room unannounced. And since Ben was way too innocent to even know of the dark side of the internet and he did possess a girlfriend, she could bet he and Mal were having some alone time.

Ben leaned firmly against the door in a move that would prevent anyone from being able to open the door without getting through him, "Do you need any last minute supplies?"

As he said this, Jordan finally spotted the tell-tale bite mark on his neck that confirmed her suspicions.

Jordan was tempted to make a comment about how it looked like a certain purple dragon had marked him as part of her hoard, but refrained. Auradonians were still on edge about Vks even though they had been around for a year, and even more were up in arms about Ben promoting Mal to be his future queen. 

If anyone had gotten wind that Mal was in Ben's room, alone, giving him love bites and who knows what else when he was supposed to be doing kingly duties, the scrutiny would be worse than ever on Ben. She might as well let them have their private moment.

Even though that private moment just showed how relaxed Ben was about Operation Defeat the Coven while she still wanted to throw up.

And that's exactly why she needed to talk to Ben. It was clear he had too much faith in her and her abilities and so he needed to be given a reality check of how they could all die and the world that they know it would be taken over by every villain on the Isle imaginable.

"Ben, I promise I'm not backing out. I mean, it is really too late for me to back out anyway so I can't. But I don't feel prepared for this at all. I'm a genie. I'm a sidekick. I don't really make tough decisions, I just entertain people with my magic powers, not fight them. The Coven have a millennium of experience over me and in dark magic which a completely different sort of power, and-"

"I understand how you feel." Ben put a comforting hand on her shoulder while her mouth dropped rather unattractively.

"You do?"

"Hey, I turned king when I was 16. I read a lot about politics and policy making, but it is completely different when I was thrown into ruling. It was like everything I studied and read meant nothing at all when it came to dealing with people and trying to listen to all their problems and think of plausible solutions on a deadline. I can't say I know what I'm doing most of the time."

Well that was very reassuring knowledge.

"But one major thing I have learned when it comes to leadership is that we all develop our own style. You can't prepare for it, you can't learn it. It just comes to you as you learn and grow. You just have to take your time."

"But I CAN'T take my time!" Jordan retorted, "This mission has a short deadline with snap decisions. I can't grow from this."

"It's adventure. People always grow and develop during an adventure like all our parents in their stories." Ben answered back with irritating calmness.

Jordan felt her eye twitch. She should have known that knocking some reality into the eternal optimist wouldn't work.

At least the eternal optimist had eyes so he could see her clear annoyance and distress because Ben said something else, "Besides Jordan, you may be the leader of the mission, but you have your friends to help you. That's why I have a Council. I don't know everything, but I surround myself with people who do and who will help guide me to making the right choices. You're not alone in this."

Jordan exhaled, surprised by how that little nugget of advice actually eased some of her nerves. She did feel pretty confident about her team. Aziz and Jay were excellent with parkour and other athletics so they could be counted on in the case of an attack, and Calix had the magical skills to go up against the sorcerers with her. Plus she had adventured with Aziz and Calix enough times to insticively know when to act in sync. It was too bad Jay was left in the cold in that respect, but he knew his way around the Isle so he had an advantage over all of them.

Additionally, Ben, Carlos Jane and Evie volunteered to alternate in keeping contact with them via magically-enhanced ear chip so they could research useful information in the library if needed.

She trusted them to know what they were doing, and she supposed with so much back-up if she did make a mistake then they could resolve it quickly before any real damage ensued.

"Thanks, Ben. I think I'm ready to go." Jordan said, brushing his hand off her shoulder.

"Right. I'll meet you there. I should go get Mal." Ben said, fixing his collar and rushed into his room.

Jordan sing-songed to the door before leaving, "Ben, I'm pretty sure Mal's room is on the other side of the castle."

She walked quickly to the front of Auradon Prep by the Beast statue where Evie, Aziz, Jay and Calix were already waiting and the moon was high above them all.

Since Ben had arranged the excuse to FG that she, Jay and Aziz were taking a field trip to Agrabah for a week to research illusions in connection with desert mirages so the two boys were dressed in loose pants and shirts that concealed the thick leather body armor underneath as well as the shafrah and scimitar strapped to their legs.

She had copied that look in a flowing black sundress with a two straps filled to the teeth with daggers criss-crossing her chest.

Truthfully, she never used a dagger before, but like with leadership, she hoped she would catch on. How hard could it be to stab someone?

Calix, on the other hand, was looking far too casual with a one shouldered toga that showed off most of his chest and no way to hide weapons anywhere on his body. Apparently he ignored her lecture that you can’t flirt someone to death in mortal combat. 

"Good luck." Evie hugged Jay once she saw Jordan arrive. "Avoid Harry and the Gastons. And any of your exes."

"I don't have exes. We didn't date on the Isle, remember." Jay said, mock punching Evie on the shoulder, "I just have enemies that I slept with and never talked to again."

Ben and Mal joined the group before anyone could comment on that topic, not that Jordan knew exactly what to make of that piece of information, and they started their official goodbyes.

"We're only an ear chip away." Evie said handing each of them a small metallic chip that Carlos had made to place in their ear drum, "All you have to do is press and it turns on and off, and since Mal spelled it. It is guaranteed to work even when you close the barrier."

"Alright. Now where are we going first? Maleficent's castle? Ursula's fish and chips?” Jay clapped his hands together, clenching his fists for the undoubtedly upcoming fights.

"The jungle." Aziz, Calix and Jordan said in unison.

What?" Jay, and Mal looked utterly confused by the answer.

"Do you not check the group messages?" Jordan snorted derisively, "Anyway, we are going to the jungle first to fix some of the holes in the barrier. Since Evie said the jungle is unoccupied by humans, we won't be noticed and attacked by the Vks immediately. Calix and I will fix the holes so the Coven won't be able to have an escape route. Then we'll work our way inland to the Coven's laier and do battle."

"Oh, okay. But you’re wrong though on the jungle being unoccupied. Some people live in the jungle. Mainly hunters who wanted some fresh meat rather than the leftovers you give us." Jay corrected.

All the Aks tensed at that and Ben looked shamefaced to the floor.

Jay hadn't said the comment in a bitter or accusatory way, but matter of factly. Which made it sound worse. It was simply a fact of the Isle that if one got tired of rotten and disgusted food from the overprivilged that you had to face the dangerous wild jungle and kill for raw meat.

"You’ll fight those VKs off we meet them." Jordan instructed after an awkward silence. Then nodded to the others. "We're going now."

Aziz took the cue and rubbed her lamp that was snugly strapped to his hip. She hated the fact that she had to bring it to the Isle, but she had no choice. While she could do magic to in transporting herself places, when it came to performing magic on others it required a wish.

"I wish to transport to the jungle of the Isle."

Shimmery pink smoke enveloped them, wind rushing past their ears and moving their bodies even though it felt like their feet were still firmly on the ground. Once the smoke cleared, all they could see was shades of green and brown.

The green came from the leafy canopy and thickets of thorns that blocked the view of the sea while the brown was the dead grass that crumpled underfoot, the dead trees that fallen over to their left in a small pile and the holes of dirt.

Jay crouched by one of the holes, studying the edges. Standing up he informed them a hyena probably created it.

"Are hyenas nocturnal?" Calix eyed the hole nervously, looking around as if to find some sort of protective cave even though there was nothing but trees.

"Yes, but I wouldn't worry. Usually the leapords take care of them." Jay said ignoring Calix’s more distressed look and motioned for them to follow him into the trees. "Since we are near the coast, the cliffs should be close by here."

And so their journey began. 

[theemichelleb]

Slim Thick & D.O.P.E.

I barely know where to start with this one… Weight loss has always been a sticky subject for me, especially when it came to my self-image and the perspective I’ve had of myself (but that’s a topic for another week). Looking back on my journey I realize it was a sticky subject because I was self-conscience and unaware of how DOPE I was.

I won’t say weight gain is something that runs in my family, but I have definitely had my struggles with fluctuating weight and not really having any control over losing or gaining throughout my life, it’s always been something that just happens to me and I go with the flow… it is what it is. In 2018 I had consciously decide that wasn’t good enough anymore because I really did not want to accept that getting older indefinitely comes with gaining weight when you don’t take care of your body and respect your temple.

It was easy when I was young. Growing up, “active” was my middle name: I played basketball, touch football in the neighborhood with the guys, dancing, stepping, double dutch, running track, and really anything that kept me outside; if it could be done I wanted to do it. I don’t know how much I weighed before, but after my father passed I went up to 160, I was a little thickums with chubby cheeks.

Once I got into High School and started walking more and dancing I dropped the weight, got a little taller and managed to remain at 145 until I went into college. Like most freshman going into college I gained the freshman 15 (which was really more like the freshman 25), but it looked good on me (looking back now). Even though I had gone over 160, I never realized I had built more muscle and I wasn’t truly fat… even though I thought I was… just a little thick.

After graduating college when all the physical activity stopped is how and when adulting really hit me. Within 2 years after graduating I had made my way up between 185 and 190, which honestly still wasn’t too bad, but I started to feel the weight gain. I was in a stressful work environment and honestly hated my job. I felt like I had wasted 5 years of my life working for a degree to not even use it, I didn’t see a way out of it, and on top of all of that I was back in Richmond where I did not want to be dreaming of living back in the DMV area where I’d be closed to my boyfriend at the time and my friends. There were so many things not going the way I wanted them to, and my body showed that.

I went through a bit of an emotional roller coaster through the summer of 2015 and had dropped down to 175 in an unhealthy way to say the least, but I was happy that I had finally thinned back down a little. Before I knew it, I was on the path to move back to the DMV, still working a janky job but it was bringing in good money and handling everything I needed it to handle so I took the opportunity and went back to where I thought I was happier.

It’s amazing the things you think will fix all your problems… and then you get it and it doesn’t. God will get your life in perspective real quick with those moments.

After moving to Maryland in 2016, I took a rather quick nose-dive and lost control with my cravings and bad eating habits. It was horrible on my pockets and even worse on my body. 2016 was not a friend to me in many ways, and it showed in how I moved day to day. From struggling financially, to losing friends, and fighting to stay on my feet; I didn’t know what was going on. To top it all off I had blown up to 230lbs+.

In 2018 God really showed me that he had more planned for me than what I had been doing for the 2 years prior. Moving in with my sister was the BEST decision I had made after having two less than desirable roommate situations. We’re sisters, so of course, we get on each other’s nerves but I just want to take a second to thank her for all the amazing things she does and how she’s help mold me into the woman I am today.

I have watched her struggle with her weight as well, but I’ve always admired her for how confident and self encouraging she is every step of the way. I’m sure she was going through things that we didn’t always see on the surface level, but most specifically from May of 2018 until today I have watched her change her life around and really push to lose the weight she’s always wanted to lose.

Talk about a D.O.P.E. queen, she not only started on her journey alone she pulled me and one of our roommates into her journey with her. Now, I won’t lie, we haven’t dedicated ourselves to the degree she has but she is definitely my inspiration to keep pushing even when I don’t want to. The greatest tidbit she’s given me since our journey’s started May of 2018 is the dedication to making a lifestyle change and not just “dieting”. We don’t need to diet, we need to be healthy, and my commitment to living that healthier lifestyle was influenced by her.

There aren’t enough words to express how proud I am of my big sister and her milestone of losing 57 lbs and 34.25 inches!!! She is still pushing forward and I know she isn’t stopping anytime soon I just pray I live up to her amazing example of what it is to be a D.O.P.E. black woman and providing support and encouragement to all the other black women in her circle and whom she comes in contact with on a day to day basis. You are truly amazing and all of the hard work you put in does not go to waste. You are a bright light in my life and I’m grateful to have a sister like you to beat up on me and push me to be a better version of myself everyday.

Since May of 2018 I have successfully dropped down to 205 lbs, I’m maintaining my weight loss, and am so excited about my growth and my dedication to living a healthier lifestyle. Next stop, 190! The most important lesson I have taken from this part of my life is loving myself in all forms no matter how “ugly” I may believe I am at any low point I hit. Being D.O.P.E. is becoming a part of my life and I owe that all to the women in my life, like LaToya, that have seen it in me for so long and have been behind me every step of the way since I’ve decided to walk in my truth.

If you’re on a weight loss journey, I’m here to say keep going! Don’t give up when it gets hard, don’t doubt yourself when you don’t notice results, and remember you didn’t gain the weight over night (somebody wise said that to me once). Lean on your support system, but don’t forget to be your own support system and motivation. Figure out what will convince you to keep moving towards your goal and remember you don’t have to do it all alone!

I know my biggest set back when trying to do most anything is doing it alone. The thing about being alone is there’s nobody to put a mask on for. When you fail it’s on you, but failure isn’t a bad thing, it’s just the thing that tells you it doesn’t work that way. Try a new way and next time you may get a different outcome. It’s okay to be afraid of working out alone, but do it anyway. The only person that has to live with your decisions at the end of the day is you… don’t be miserable if you don’t have to be, and don’t give anybody else the power over making yourself happy.

I know I’m not the best role model when it comes to exercise, but be better than me… be more like LaToya. Make yourself go to the gym 100 times… and when you reach that goal, start for the next hundred. Find a nutritionist and a personal trainer, find a gym buddy, plan out your meals, choose to stick to an eating schedule… whatever you need to do, do it NOW.

One of my best friends recently said to me “progress not perfection.”

Any step forward, is a step in the right direction. Don’t let ANYBODY take that from you.

Be D.O.P.E. Black People!

[ick25]

Rockman.EXE Episode 46 Review.

In Battle Network universe, curry takes YOU out!

Are you gonna explain how Regal gets Dr. Wily’s robot eye gene or something?

We begin the episode with one of my least favorite characters in this season demanding curry at the restaurant of my least favorite group of villaines. Count Elec is working while complaining about Rush and wondering if the WWW will ever come back. Suddenly, his PET starts to emit a sound with a bright red screen, and we see that the rest of the WWW members also have the same problem.

They are all gathered at the Maha ichiban, with Rush still waiting for his dang curry, trying to figure out what is going on. The PETs then slowly reveal an image of Dr. Wily.

Are we forgeting already that Madoi has sleeves?

After the title card we see that all PETs are connected to a tv where they find out that it is a video recording of Dr.Wily’s will. Wily tells them about a special chip where he engraved his intellect and where to find it.

All of this as the monitor shows the mod code for HP+250 for some reason.

After hearing this the WWW members are amazed and glad that they will finally return, but a certain dog hears them and escapes to alert our heroes.

Another way to make this character useful. I honestly don’t know why they don’t even question Rush, like they already know who he is and what he can do.

We cut to Netto who is happily skating while singing Aki’s cheezy song (very badly BTW) until he is surprised by Rush who suddenly appears in his way. Rush seems to be trying to tell him something, but Netto simple can’t understand him.

Why? She speaks bitch? XD (It’s not a bad word if I’m not using it as an insult)

In the next scene we see the Ex-WWW stealing a helicopter from a local airport by drowning the employees in curry. I also want to point out that Madoi and Count Elec are wearing those weird looking hats from when they were hand gliding in episode 31.

Custom hats for their hair styles?

Madoi reminds them that Gauss might also be interested in finding Wily’s brain chip, before we see him at his company with the family picture we saw in episode 30.

Meanwhile, in Yaito’s secret tree house base, Roll somehow translates what Rush said about the Wily chip, (ignore the weird spacing in the second panel) and for some reason they all think it’s THEIR job to stop them.

Rush demonstrates once again that he can cross between worlds to show them the map to the chip, and right after this, Yaito calls them from a entirely different art style and background just so we can get Yaito’s animation of getting into her private jet Batman style.

It just looks so weird going back and forth between art styles like that. Even the shading is different!

They find the island with no signs of the Ex-WWW anywhere, until Rockman totally jinx it because it turns out they were waiting for them to fly and shoot at them!

Rockman in forth panel: “I hate to be right all the time”

It’s been a while since the WWW tried to MURDER Netto! They literally shoot at them because they knew Netto and Rockman were there!

After blasting them out of the sky, the WWW land on the island were they find a waterfall that, of course, has a jack-in point next to it. This means the waterfall is fake because it dries up once they plug-in to reveal the chip.

Just plug-in, play Wily’s video and no more waterfall. Before they can take the chip though, one of Yaito’s drill cars bursts out of the ground. Yaito, Dekao and Tohru attempt to runaway with the chip only for the drill to stop working leaving them stuck there. Meanwhile, Netto is driving underground in a second drill car.

“Girl please, who’s the main character here? I can find the plot with my eyes closed.”

The loser squad try to defend the chip, in a very poorly way because Mahajarama ends up picking it up easily after Madoi drops it. Hinouken celebrates, but they are all interrupted by a blimp from Gauss that suddenly arrives before cutting to commercials.

We return from commercials with Gauss blasting the WWW helicopter with a laser from his airship.

Yeap, that happend.

Gauss reveals himself and immediately proceeds to insult Madoi.

I like how the camera switches to Madoi dissapearing and then going back to Gauss getting slapped by her. This is officially the second time Madoi slaps him.

Gauss reveals that he is interested in collecting Wily’s chip for his fan girl collection before Netto and Meiru finally burst out of the ground behind the blimp. Gauss then reveals a vital piece of information to eveyone.

Whaaaaa... I’m just kidding, we already knew that.

Turns out Gauss changed the family name to Magnets after their mother died and considers the Count a failure. He offers to take him back on his blimp in return for him handing over the Wily chip. The Count accepts shocking everyone, except for Mahajarama who has fate in him.

Then Meiru comes running at Yaito and the others telling them that Netto is on that ship too.

“Main character!”

Inside the airship, the Count refuses to hand over the chip and challenges Gauss to a Net Battle, but not just any Netbattle, one with the same rules used in his battle against Rockman back in episode 30. 

Were the subs done by the same guys from episode 38? WHAT THE HECK ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT?!

Gauss accepts and we then see Netto hiding in a closet where Rockman tells him that he will disable the security so he can sneak around. The electric battle begins with Elecman and Magnetman rushing at eachother as we then cut to Rockman taking out the security Navis with his cutted buster shot.

I’m liking the lighting effects used in this episode.

Elecman attacks Magnetman with his Elec Sword, but the magnetic Navi blows him away. Magnetman attacks with his Mag balls, Elecman tries to avoid them but one of them eventually touches him causing the Count to get shocked by the battle machine.

So gay. 

Anyway, the Count shuts him up after he sends a lightning rod to Elecman to protect him from Magnetman’s attacks and returning the damage to him.

That’s not a real chip, but I don’t care.

Gauss gets angry and Magnetman manhandles Elecman.

This battle is intense! I am personally rooting for Elecman and the Count. I don’t have anything against gay people, I just happen to dislike Gauss, and his Navi Magnetman is very vicious. You can see how Elecman struggles in the battle just for the Count. That is Navi loyalty at its finest!

Meanwhile, we go back to the island where one of Yaito’s maids tells her that their rescue crew has arrived, they can now go get Netto from Gauss’s blimp. Speacking of Netto, we cut to Rockman now in the Heat Guts style burning more security Navis to disable what I guess is a motion sensor.

I think this is the first time we see burn marks left by the Heat Guts attack, it is suppouse to be a flamethrower after all.

Back to the battle, Elecman and Magnetman launch their attacks at the same time. The collission of their attacks for some reason means that both Gauss and the Count get electricuted. During this, a spark runs wild and starts a tiny fire somewhere in the blimp.

Netto finally arrives at the room where they are having their Net Battle and spots Wily’s chip in front of their family picture.

Just wanted to brag my good timing with this shot where Netto sees the Count before hiding.

Magnetman and Elecman are both tired, the fire in the airship starts to expand, the Navis decide to take the other one down with their fists resulting in a double log-out and both operators getting electricuted and falling over.

On the floor, they both talk about the past. Gauss even admits that their mother and him were worried about the Count before she passed away. 

This tender conversation is interrupted by an explotion caused by the growing fire, but there is another surprise for them, Netto attempting to sneak away with the Wily chip behind their backs.

You know, Netto, you could’ve taken advantage of the explotion to run away without them realizing it. 

Netto runs away and plugs out Rockman who was still burning security Navis in the cyberworld with Gauss and Count Elec right behind him.

Rockman deleting the security might have weakend the airships emergency protocals in case of a fire...Wooops. Either that or Gauss’s blimp was poorly designed.

Netto tries to escape from them by running to the roof only to be stopped by the fire.

.........

Only in the original version can you find an openly gay Gauss.

Netto threatens them by throwing the chip overboard, but another explotion causes him to lose balance.

The villains saved the hero?

Of course they did it because they thought he still had the chip. Luckily for Netto, he grabs on to a lose part of the blimp slowly tearing its side and leaving him hanging from it.

Gauss and Count Elec once again start to fight over the chip, and once again an explotion occures making them fall over with the chip sliding pass between them and finally falling off the ship.

LOL, there goes Wily’s brain.

The blimp is slowly falling with Netto getting closer to the water until something saves him from drowning or freezing to death.

Oh no, its the return of the Yaito Mako!

Netto is saved and the blimp ends up crashing into an iceberg while our heroes just watch the bad guys die.

Oh the Elec-Manity! Or Magnet-Manity? o-o

After this we see the Ex-WWW on a boat in front of the iceberg believing that their dear friend died. Of course this isn’t the case because the camera quickly shifts to the Count and Gauss bickering on a block of ice, ending the episode with both of them sneezing.

What do I think?

The beginning was pretty dumb. Netto and friends just trying to stop the Ex-WWW like it was their responsability. I mean, granted, Rockman is the hero that stops their evil plans, but they never got directly involve before. Fighting against the WWW Navis was because they were causing problems to them and the rest of the city, but their operators don’t stand a chance against a group of adults in real life. The cyberworld is where Rockman is superior and is able to stop them, that’s the Battle Network formula, giving kids an advantage over adults.

The best and most important part of the episode was the revelation of Gauss and Count Elec being brothers and the Net Battle between their Navis. If you saw the anime before playing the games like me, this was something we were waiting for after seeing the Count’s family picture in episode 30. The game was pretty vague about this, how were we suppoused to know that the Cout’s real name was Jack? They are never seen interacting with eachother in the games, Gauss’s introduction was the only time where this was mentioned. During the plane hijacking in BN2, Gauss reveals that he came from a very poor family and that his brother Jack was taken in by a wealthy family, making him bitter towards humanity and the reason why he joins Gospel. Here, they both come from a rich family but chose different paths, specially since the Count ran away from home a long time ago.

The reason why there was a mod code in Wily’s video was part of their publicity for BN3, by adding secret codes for the game in the anime. It is very plausible that we will see more secret codes hiding in some of the future episode.

[aphgermanyheadcanons]

👀👀👀 I would love for you to talk about Lud's development from ww2 to modern day for hours

anon ur feeding my ego here who knows what disastrous consequences may spawn from ur actions but??? just know that ily

WELL my friends since we are here!! B) let me divulge to u ,,, the evolution of Lud. i could start with him as a child but i admittedly know way less abt that time period n also that would take ten years so that shall be for another ask

ludwig during ww2 was rlly rlly messy in the sense that he wasn’t exactly in his right mind. he’d defo been brainwashed by the propaganda n in general he wasn’t a fun guy to be around. ludwig was arrogant, impetuous, too hyperfocused on exacting revenge n showing everyone wrong. he thought he knew best which rlly caused a rift between him n his brother

his desperation in the time period just before ww2 led him to grasp at literally any promise of smth better, but instead of rising back up he fell down the slippery slope to some place even further from where he’d originally started. ludwig turned a blind eye to many things he shouldn’t have at the prospect of havin smth- anything- better for his ppl n a shot at revenge n power aka proving himself bc he was young n stupid. he ostracized those that truly cared abt him like his brother (who was never rlly for what was going on), rod, eliza, liech n im sure a few others as well, isolating himself to soak in that damn web of lies

ofc disillusionment is never pretty esp when ur the one who made the mistakes n as we’re all aware ludwig had screwed up big time. by the end of the war ludwig’s eyes were opened n his middle name was Regret his first name was Guilt n his last name was Failure. ya boi was not in a good place emotionally not to mention economically, socially n politically but yk thats another story!! 

what i would like to touch upon is where ludwig was maturity wise at this time. i’d like to remind u all that ludwig at the time of ww2 would’ve been hm 130 at most?? less than two centuries thats for sure. in nation years he was a child, he should’ve looked like a gotdamn child but nah lud grew up too fast by the start of ww2 he was already lookin 18-19. ludwig was forced to grow up fast n tho this is applicable for many nations he grew up at a time when many of his “peers” already had centuries beneath their belts. i’d argue this is esp important to note considering how most of the european nations grew up at roughly the same ish time. this explains some of why lud was so eager to stake his claim on the world. he would’ve felt a heckin lot of pressure to show he rlly was on their level

anyways ludwig was young af when he was thrown to the wolves n tho that doesn’t justify his actions it’s smth to keep in mind

so lud’s out here coming to terms w the fact that’s he’s screwed everything up n likely if it weren’t for the western aid ya boi would’ve been a goner. he was to keep it short depressed n basically ready for Death™. it was legit just alfred’s marshall plan n the fact that his ppl were still a thing that forced him to power thru. but yessu the aid sent by the west spurred on the miracle of the rhine which marked the bringing back up of germany to his feet after the war n lud eventually did recover from his depression say, around the 50s bc u gotta do what u gotta do when ur a nation

ludwig from then on out did experience better times i mean discounting a few things like the berlin wall- ah yes i should talk abt this

alright so before the division of germany ludwig had always had gilbert around for him. gilbert had raised him since the v beginning n even thru his ugly stages aka ww1 n ww2 gilbert had stuck w him. it was only after ww2 that ludwig was truly separated from his brother, forcing him grow up once n for all n shoulder the true burden of a full fledged Adult™. war guilt, recovery n repercussions ensured it. moreover, ludwig felt responsible for the abolition of prussia amongst many other things that had occurred as a result of the war so a big part in his magically doubled maturity was the desire to recompense for his wrongs n become someone his brother might someday be able to forgive

which is ridiculous considering gilbert would die for ludwig get it bc he did

so anyways!! ludwig builds himself back up into a respectable member of society n bam we get all the goodies of present day germany like the EU, etc. germany rn is one of europe’s most influential players n i would say?? a lot of this is bc ludwig wanted to make up for what he did wrong tho this eventually was coupled w a desire to become a nation his ppl could be proud of again n i’d say he’s done a fine job of it! ofc this isn’t to say he’s without his problems but ludwig today is a much more mature n agreeable man than he once was largely due to what the world forced upon him n how he decided to handle it

tldr; ludwig was Messy during ww2. he realized that was bad n felt rlly guilty esp bc of gil gettin demoted from nation status so ya boi worked rlly hard to become someone his bro n his ppl could be proud of n matured n accomplished a lot making him into the gr9 dude he is today

also im writing a fic on the subject of post ww2 germany (that will be gerame based) that i should prbly post the first ch to but !! follow me @realmwrites for news on when i do eventually post it B)

[xxlying-from-y0u]

25 Simple Things Every 20-Something Should Realize 🗣

1. Take care of yourself.

“Take care of your health. Take care of your sanity. Take care of the relationships that matter most to you. Enjoy experiences throughout life and be ready to learn. Try not to turn down interesting experiences.” — ElusivePineapple

2. You are not behind.

“Now is generally a time where you feel you should have done something by now, but at the same time have not have a chance to do anything yet.” — Monsterzz 

3. Learn your drinking limit. 

“The day I learned when to cut myself off so I could still be loose and have a good time but not yakking all over the place when I got home was the greatest day of my 20s.” — PunchBeard

4. Pursue a career that allows you to be happy.

“Find a job/career that will ALLOW you to be happy. Of course, there are jobs/careers out there that will MAKE you happy, but I assume that the majority of occupations will involve some factor that will make a person unhappy (long hours, time away from loved ones, perhaps strenuous manual labor, ect.).

However, if you can find an occupation that will allow you to focus on the things in your life that already make you happy, I say go for that. A persons happiness is everything, despite how oversimplified that may seem. Life will take a 180 degree turn when a person finds them self in a job that not only requires the entirety of their day, but requires the entirety of their mind as the workload never ends and causes a person to stress even when off work.

Pursue happiness.” — AyBake

5. Leave when you want to leave. 

“You owe your employer nothing. If you need to leave, leave. If you need your own time, don’t feel pressured to work overtime. If they push the law on what’s legal, take legal action. Try to be as friendly and helpful as possible, but take care of yourself first and don’t let that friendliness get in the way or prevent you from doing what’s right. Learn from my mistakes.” — GoabNZ

6. You need to take responsibility for yourself. 

“Generally, things won’t get better unless you make them better. At the end of the day, you need to take responsibility for yourself.

Sometimes you’ll be on the fortunate end of good luck, and sometimes you’ll be on the unfortunate end of bad luck.

Set goals. Work on them a little bit every day.

Make the life you want and don’t wait for it to be handed to you because chances are, it won’t be handed to you.” — jacobra94

7. Remember how valuable these years of your life are.

“It gets exponentially harder to have novel experiences and explore as you get older, have kids, a mortgage, stable career, etc.

So don’t waste your early-mid twenties. This means lots of different things. Travel if you can. But even if you can’t, meet new people, and go new places. Read about different ideas. Date different kinds of people. Don’t stay in relationships you’re not happy in.

Basically, this part of your life is more valuable than you think.” — TooMuchPants

8. Keep your standards high and your options open.

“You don’t have to marry the first person who pays attention to you.” — ChemicalThread

9. Stop chasing after happiness. 

“My advice: Stop searching for happiness.

I know that sounds all sorts of fucked up, but hear me out.

All the self-help books in the world keep telling you to look for happiness. You look around and all your friends seem to have found various forms of it….except for you. You keep trying to get it and you feel you keep failing and it causes you to panic or get depressed or just feel like an all-around failure. But during all this searching and striving and flailing, have you ever really thought about the nature of happiness itself?

Look – happiness is a feeling, not a state of being. It is lovely and it is fleeting but it is NOT – I emphasize, NOT – the state you should be wishing to live in forever.

Think about it this way.

Going about in a constant state of sadness is dangerous, yes? We discourage that, we spend so much time trying to raise people out of it, and we call it depression. We know it’s unhealthy to live in that state.

Why, then, do we think it’s somehow okay to live – much less set a goal – towards a constant state of happiness? Just because one is a pleasant emotion and the other an unpleasant one doesn’t mean one is any better for us than the other. They’re simply two extremes on a straight line – one above, one below. Neither is healthy over the long-term. Both are meant to be experienced only occasionally.

Instead, pursue the healthy. Pursue contentment.

Contentment means you experience the joy and the sadness in your life without expecting anything unrealistic. You can be secure in the knowledge both feelings will eventually dissipate. There will be moments of supreme joy you can embrace and moments of sadness you must endure. Both feelings have their own meaning.

Contentment is attainable. You can look at your life and say, ‘I have enough, right now. I am okay.’ And from there, any steps you make to further your joy will not come from a place of fear, where you feel you MUST find success or happiness – or you have nothing. You will already have enough. Within contentment, you find peace.” — locogirlp

10. Some friends aren’t meant to stay in your world forever.

“Always salt your pasta while it boils, bunny ears are a perfectly acceptable way to tie your sneakers, some friends aren’t meant to be around forever, save your money but know when to enjoy the fruits of your labor, she’s looking to have fun and feel safe stop trying to marry her, change your own oil, learn how to fix a flat, keep a clean car, never turn down opportunity for fear of failure, take pride in your appearance, and never forget that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.” — littlebeargiant

11. Stop making excuses.

“Excuses will destroy your life. Every excuse you make just takes something away from you. You’re not going to class because of shit going on in your life? You’re fucking up your future. Put on your big girl panties and do your shit or you’ll pay for it later.” — SouthernYankeeWitch 

12. Maintain perspective.

“Maintain perspective — things that may seem like a big deal (i.e. getting a large bill) are not worth a world of stress. Work hard and the rest will follow.” — EdMcGIV

13. Seriously, don’t do drugs. 

“Don’t fuck with opiates, stimulants, or benzos. Too many kids in their early twenties think it’s a good time to take prescription pills, be it OxyContin or adderall or Xanax. It all seems innocuous at first, but that shit is incredibly addictive. I was partial to opiates myself, and it fucked me up for a long time after I lost control of it.

Shit goes from ‘fun and recreational’ to ‘desperate because I need it’ faster than you’d think.” — lemon_catgrass

14. Appreciate the people in your universe. 

“You are young, but if you take a second to look around, the family you have been with your whole life have begun to grow old. Your grandparents won’t be around much longer, and your parents are getting into their 40s and 50s. Spend the time with them while they can still enjoy it, because it’s those memories you will have when they get old and are no longer able to do them/aren’t around anymore.” — dourazel

15. Find a balance between work and fun.

“What you spend your time doing right now will lay the foundation for the rest of your life. Have fun, but don’t waste it. You can’t get that time back.” — uacoop

16. Remember that you are still young.

“When I was 24, I had a 30-year old, married couple that I knew and hung out with. The wife told me, ‘Whatever mess you make in your 20’s, you can clean up in your 30’s.’ She said this because I was worried about my career and the possibility of buying a house with my fiance.

Basically, you still have time to grow into a functional adult and you still have the energy and motivation to start your life over and/or make some bad decisions. Experiment. Try and get that new job you want. Move somewhere else.

But try and get your life at least a little bit in order before your 30.” — the_planes_walker

17. Find a career you actually enjoy. 

“Working a job you hate for the money will just make you hate your life. Do something you enjoy even if it pays less and learn to live on that.” — itsZiz

18. Invest in your retirement from an early age.

“As soon as you get a job start investing in your retirement if you can afford it (401k, ira).

Typically your investments should double every 10 years. So every dollar you can invest now will be 16 dollars when you retire. Not to mention the tax shelter when you start making real money (pre tax deductions or post tax taxfree growth).” — workact

19. Realize there are gray areas in life. 

“Critical thinking: Knowing that having two opposing ideas in your head isn’t the cause for a meltdown. Search out at least two (more are better) differing opinions and news sources before deciding on the truth (or relative truth) of a thing. Sometimes there is no black or white, only gray.” — JasperDyne

20. Never forget the importance of networking. 

“Network. Build those work relationships. Be friendly with your coworkers (classmates if you’re still in school). They may know someone who can help you out down the line.

In this world, connections are everything.” — 420shadesofgreen

21. Learn to communicate (and laugh) with your person about sex.

“One of my favorite pieces of sex advicebeyond the very obvious — learn to communicate and talk about sex, is to learn to laugh. Find someone you can laugh with in bed so if the anal or whatever else you try goes completely wrong, it’ll be okay because you can laugh about it. I always feel bad for those people who try something and it goes wrong and they are afraid to ever speak tot he person again or both partners just shut down and won’t speak of it. Laughter defuses so much tension. And while this may not be true of everyone, gosh damn does a good laugh just feel good sometimes. Naked, bed shaking laughter is so underrated.

Plus, the whole communication thing seems to go easier if you both are able to laugh. Sex doesn’t have to be this very serious thing. Not all the time anyway.” — Tzipity

22. Ask your elders for advice before making major decisions.

“Ask the advice of older people before making a big purchase like a house or car. Have them come with you if you can. Young people will often get taken advantage of when taking out loans for something like that. Don’t buy super nice things yet. Buy used things for cheaper and save your money.” — ediblehearts

23. Never forget to wear sunscreen.

“If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.

The longterm benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.” — Yooreka

24. Know your single status isn’t embarrassing. 

“You do not need to be married by now.” — aden34

25. Treat your body with respect.

“Do not take your body or your health for granted. You need your teeth, arteries, lungs and joints to last you the rest of your life. Treat them with the respect they deserve for keeping you alive, and perhaps that life will be long and healthful.” — bakemeawaytoys

[sincerely-bean-plant]

Treebros - Ice Skating

Hey guys! This is my @dear-evan-hansen-secret-santa gift for @certifiedboyf !!! Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy:)

“Excited, Connor?” Mrs. Murphy looked at her son in the rear-view mirror. He sat in the back or the car, looking out the window. He muttered something inaudible in response. Something that probably meant he was less than ecstatic. Cynthia looked at Evan, sitting next to Connor.

“What about you, Evan?”

He looked up at her. “Oh, yeah, just… I’m not- I’ve never been ice skating before, so…” His answer trailed off as Zoe bounced in the passenger seat, excited. After all, the afternoon’s excursion had been her idea.

“Neither has my brother,” she informed Evan. “You can learn together!”

Evan looked over at Connor who was still staring out the window at the trees passing by.

“Yeah,” Connor finally said, sitting up and facing Evan. He wasn’t excited in the slightest, but since he’d been the one to invite Evan he didn’t want to make him feel awkward. “Yeah, we can learn together.”

Evan grinned. He had been absolutely terrified when he and Connor came out the Murphys, but the family had been nothing but supportive. And their boundless acceptance led to them getting to spend more time together. So when Zoe declared that they were going ice skating, Mrs. Murphy was happy to let Evan join them.

“Here we are!” Cynthia pulled into the parking lot of the ice rink. Zoe was first out of the car. She couldn’t wait to get inside and jogged ahead of Evan and Connor. They trailed behind, walking hand in hand up to the building. Cynthia smiled and watched them. She loved that Connor had someone like Evan. They made each other happy, she could tell, and it made her heart soar to see them together.

Zoe pulled open the doors. Chilly air flooded from the building as well as the shouts and laughter of the skaters. The family, plus Evan, made their way inside and to the window where skates were available for rent. They traded in their shoes for the ice skates and sat down on a few nearby benches to get them on.

Connor pulled his laces tight, slowly standing up. His strides were wobbly, but he made his way over to where Evan was finishing tying his skates. Once he was done, Connor took his hand and helped him to his feet. The two tripped almost immediately, laughing as they regained balance.

“Shall we?” Connor squeezed his boyfriend’s gloved hand and Evan nodded with a smile. They slowly and cautiously made their way to the double doors that led into the ice rink. Evan opened the door, letting Connor go in first.

“Such a gentleman,” Connor said with a chuckle, kissing Evan on the cheek as he passed. Evan sighed happily and closed the door behind them.

Laid out in the arena was a huge floor of ice crowded with children and adults alike. Large glass plates surrounded the rink along with a rail that many people were clinging to for support. Connor took Evan’s hand again and hobbled over to the entrance.

“Ready?” Connor got up onto the step.

“I guess so,” Evan replied, following.

Connor moved to the end of the step, letting Evan in front of him. “Wanna go first?”

“Sure,” Evan said quietly, stepping onto the ice. Immediately, he began to slip, his feet wavering and finally sliding out from under him. He landed flat on his butt, wincing in pain, but laughing at himself. Connor stepped onto the ice in an attempt to help Evan up, but he forgot that he had no idea what he was doing either. He tripped onto his knees, skidding across the ice. He grabbed the wall for support, trying to pull himself back to his feet, but every time his foot hit the ice it seemed to slip out from under him again.

Finally, he gained some traction and just enough stability to skid over to where Evan was struggling to his feet. Connor dug his blade into the ice to solidify himself before pulling Evan to his feet.

“Thanks,” Evan chuckled, brushing off his coat and trying to get to the wall. But it wasn’t long before he slipped again. This time, though, Connor’s arms broke his fall. Which would have been nice, except for the fact that Connor couldn’t skate either and catching Evan had thrown off his balance. And so Connor fell again, Evan on top of him and laughing.

“Are you okay?” Evan chuckled as he climbed off of Connor, sitting up on the ice.

Connor leaned back on his elbows, looking up at Evan. “Yeah, you good?”

Evan nodded in response, pulling himself to his feet, hands on the wall. He reached down, offering a hand to Connor who took it graciously and regained stance.

“Okay,” he said, adjusting Evan’s hat quickly before taking his hand again. “Let’s try this again, slowly.”

Evan laughed and nodded. “Sounds good,” he said, taking tiny steps across the ice. Connor followed, and they gained about a foot before they ran into trouble. Zoe, an expert, whizzed past, knocking Evan off balance. He was caught off guard and stumbled to the side, clutching Connor’s arm for support. Connor’s hand was on the wall, so he had enough stability this time to catch Evan.

“Gotcha,” Connor smirked, helping Evan stand back up. He chuckled quietly, looking down at his skates, expertly placing each one, hoping he wouldn’t fall again. It was alright though. He knew that if he did, Connor would be there to catch him.

—

“This is boring,” Connor declared. The two had slowly and tediously made their way around the rink three times now, in tiny steps, gripping the railing.

“There are babies going faster than us right now,” he continued, pointing at a little girl gliding across the ice at about twice their speed.

“Okay,” Evan said, smiling. “Let’s… shake it up a little?”

Connor looked over at Evan, confused. “What do you mean?”

Evan grinned, letting go of Connor’s hand and maneuvering so that he was behind his boyfriend. “Ready?”

Connor had no clue what Evan was doing, but he agreed. “Go for it.”

Evan placed his hands on Connor’s back and pushed him with all his might.

“Evan!” Connor shouted as he skidded forward, swinging his arms in a futile attempt to regain balance. “Evan, what the hell!”

“Lookin’ good,” Zoe sarcastically offered as she glided past them. Connor slid over to the wall and grabbed it, stopping his propulsion. He turned back to look at Evan who was smiling, a little bit deviously, proud of himself.

Connor sighed. “Now what?” He observed the distance between the two of them. “You have to get over here, pal.”

Evan warily took a step forward, slipping on the ice but regaining control. Slowly, he tried again, gently sliding towards Connor, who smiled at Evan’s success.

Evan took another step. Then another. And another, until he was pretty much ice skating!

“I’m… I’m doing it!”

Connor laughed. “You’re doing it, Ev! How? How are you doing it?”

Evan went a little faster, now having passed Connor. “I don’t know, it’s just… fancy walking?”

Connor chuckled, trying to follow Evan, but he couldn’t go nearly as fast. “Wait up,” he pleaded, and Evan stopped to let Connor catch up. He tried to skid to a stop next to Evan, but his feet didn’t seem to want to stop moving. They slid out from under him once again and he fell flat on his back. He groaned in pain, exaggerating to an extent. He chuckled at his own failure.

“Are you alright?” Evan bent down to help Connor up.

“A-Okay, Hansen,” Connor replied, taking his hand and slowly standing back up. He was a little frustrated that Evan had it down while he still couldn’t stay on his feet. But Evan was considerate, not blasting ahead of Connor when he clearly could have.

“Let’s try this,” Evan suggested, outstretching his arm behind himself. “Take my hand,” he directed, and Connor did just that. Evan began to slowly skate forward, around the rink, and Connor was gently pulled behind. “How’s that?” Evan squeezed Connor’s hand and the recipient laughed.

“It’s nice,” Connor replied. “How’s it feel to be better than me at something, Mr. Hole-In-Twelve?”

Evan scoffed and then chuckled at Connor’s remark, remembering the tragedy that was his mini golf score. He retaliated. “How’s it feel knowing that I’m better at ice skating than you?”

Connor laughed. He didn’t want to admit that he was pissed, but he was a little jealous. Zoe skated by again, tossing a wink in her brother’s direction. She thought that Evan and Connor were adorable together and she took any opportunity to remind them how cute they were.

“Guys, do you realize how ga-” She stopped mid-sentence, staring dumbfounded at a girl in the middle of the rink. She spun with impeccable speed, her white ice skates a blur. Her long dark hair spiraled with her, and when she stopped, Connor recognized her as Alana from school. Zoe cautiously skated over to strike up a conversation with this figure skating beauty and Evan chuckled.

“They grow up so fast,” Connor mocked, laughing softly. “Okay, I’m freezing my ass off, you wanna call it quits? There’s food and stuff in the lobby.”

“Sure,” Evan said, leading Connor over to the exit and stepping off of the ice. It was strange to walk in skates on regular ground, so they shakily made their way over to the door and out into the lobby.

—

“Yeah, can we get two hot chocolates? Thanks,” Connor said to the cashier as Evan sat back, untying his skates. They paid and sat on a nearby bench to wait for their drinks.

“Did you have fun?” Connor looked over at Evan. “I mean, besides the being ten times better than me part.”

Evan laughed, setting his skates next to himself on the bench and pulling his shoes back on. “Yeah, it was… it was really great, Connor, I really love spending more time with you now, it’s been-”

Connor cut Evan off with a soft kiss and neither one could help smiling.

“Two hot chocolates?”

Connor sat up, retrieving their drinks and handing one to Evan. “Enjoy,” he said with a grin, plopping back down on the bench and taking a sip. A choice he would immediately regret.

“Shit, that’s hot!” Connor wiped his mouth and blew on the drink in an attempt to cool it down. “It burned my f… “

He remembered the children around.

“F…reaking lip.”

Evan grinned. “Want me to kiss it better?”

Connor looked over at Evan, shocked yet pleased. It wasn’t like him to be so… smooth. “Have at it, Hansen,” he replied, smiling. Evan leaned in and reconnected their lips once more, smiling into the kiss. He was careful not to spill any of his hot chocolate. It felt nice. It was a perfect combination on this frigid winter day. The mug warming his hands and Connor’s love warming his heart.

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, and have an awesome rest of your holiday:)

[fatphobiabusters]

Anonymous Submission. TW: aphobia, amatonormativity , swearing, fatphobia

Hi. I wrote this blog some months ago asking about the relationship between amatonormativity and fatphobia because I wasn’t able to find anything on the subject. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been turning it over in my brain, and I thought I’d compile a ranty essay about my personal conjecture on the matter.

>> Seven years ago, teen me was talking to people in a chat room. Upon learning I was a girl, another user assumed I was looking for a boyfriend and asked lightheartedly what physical attributes I preferred in a boy. Short? Tall? Muscular? Fat?

At this point, I was completely unaware of the fact that I was a-spec. As someone who now identifies as both recipromantic (experiencing romantic attraction only after someone else expresses interest first) and asexual, I have to say physical attraction always eluded me a little bit. I’d never even actively thought about it until then. After a moment, I supposed the only requirement was that the boy liked me first.

So I wrote, “I don’t care. I’m not picky.”

The other user’s response felt like a sneer through the computer. “That is such a fat thing to say.” He proceeded to make fun of me, crying, “Fatty! You’re a fatty!” until I left.

When I look back on that incident now, I still feel angry. But I also know enough now to have realized that he used fat as a “threat” to challenge my “straightness” when I still assumed I had it. That it was a combination of his fatphobia and mine that led me to leave.

Not gonna lie, I’m not certain in my a-spec identity. I’m always worrying, what if I’m wrong? I’ve questioned multiple times if maybe I wouldn’t be a-spec if I wasn’t also fat. What I’ve realized since then is that what I was asking myself was really, “Would I still be the same person I am if I hadn’t been ridiculed for being fat?”

I don’t have the answers to that. Maybe. Maybe not.

____

One of your followers said the game surrounding fatness and amatonormativity is rigged, which can’t be truer.

IMO, to be Straight with a capital S as defined by our thinphobic, beauty-obsessed society requires certain levels of artifice and performance that I’m not at all comfortable with. Fat people have extra burdens put on them to appear hypergendered in order to be accepted in the public eye, let alone be considered potential partners. They aren’t exactly free to express themselves however they want regarding their mannerisms, creativity and dress, but instead must edit these aspects for others’ consumption.

That coupled with the stress of trying to appeal to others romantically and/or sexually is akin to the stress of having to pass multiple tests. Each grows harder than the last when you’re not naturally inclined to the whole song and dance due to being, y'know, a-spec.

For many people, a breakup or botched date gets processed as grave failure. Eventually the thought strikes me as absurd. Why would anybody want to put themselves through this? Is being alone really so bad a punishment as amatonormativity’s making it out to be? After all, there’s no one I have to “perform” for when I’m by myself; I don’t have to run counter to my nature and wear makeup and watch what I dress and do and say just to ensure a boy—or anyone else, for that matter—likes me.

Just because I’m a-spec doesn’t mean I don’t want to be cared for and listened to, even if not in romantic or sexual ways. Yet those are, for a while at least, the only two options I see.

When teen me goes to school, I drown in a sea of amatonormativity and fatphobia. I can feel the other students’ eyes run over my body and deem it an ugly, repulsive thing that diminishes my worth somehow … And I can’t help but feel I have to wade through a sea of bullshit to grab whatever straws of affection I can find. In doing so, I also can’t help but begin to think there’s something fundamentally wrong with me.

My friends try to get me to dance. They insist I’ll be okay if I take off my jacket and reveal my bare upper arms, but I don’t want to. It’s this small ring of people who don’t see the fat I dread when they look at me.

Even then, they still date and go out with each other. I feel so incredibly lonely when they do because I experience what I fear the most: being left behind. And that leads me to enter a relationship I’m not ready for because I feel “it’s time,” “no one else will ask me out as I am anyway” and that it’s what “adults” do, rather than because, “Yay, I want to!”

So … Is it any wonder I’m relieved when the relationship ends? I don’t have to pretend to be Straight anymore. I don’t have to deal with the anxiety of timing my hugs when I’m touch-averse, of appearing “cute” to my boyfriend to keep his attention, of thinking, “Maybe I’m a bad person” for feeling aesthetically attracted to others and feeling my attraction to him fade. Of fearing that people may mock me and laugh at me behind my back because I dare enter a relationship While Fat™.

I once read a post that said the reason why people cut down the fat person who claims their own happiness is because they feel that person has “cheated” the institutions that reward thinness, and the fat person doing this somehow cheats them.

Likewise, aphobes say that a-specs “only love themselves” and “need to go outside” for what I suspect are similar reasons. If a-specs claim their lives are already full and complete without romantic love and sex, then they’ve walked away from the power our sexually compulsive, amatonormative society exerts over them. That angers and frightens those who’ve spent years trying to “win” the game, even if only on a subconscious level. Besides, it’s easier to condemn those who don’t conform to traditional narratives than to reexamine one’s own belief in those narratives.

Aphobia, fatphobia and amatonormativity each share the tendency to objectify the fat a-spec. The conversation turns external to the speaker, as if whatever attraction (or lack thereof) the person feels is irrelevant; it is instead what othersthink of them that shifts the focus toward potential partners, spouses, strangers, family and children rather than the real person who is hurting right now.

Don’t most fatphobic conversations steer toward how the fat person can gain thin privilege on an individual level? “Lose weight and people will treat you better. Stop being a-spec, and people will treat you better.” Both fat and the a-spec orientations thus become things to be denied, diminished, rather than celebrated.

Then there’s the denial, the gaslighting. Aphobia says, “You don’t experience attraction? You must be lying.” This strips the a-spec person of agency because it implies that they cannot trust their own judgment.

Likewise: “You’re fat and happy? You must be lying.” The common misconceptions that fat people must lack self-control and are victims in their own narrative also strip them of agency.

Amatonormativity asks, “Why haven’t you begun looking for a partner yet? You’re not complete without one! You can’t be happy without one!”

For the a-spec, pinning our source of happiness to a concept we may not even be able to believe in or access is a terrifying thought. How many fat people have felt similarly broken due to not being able to secure partners?

Lastly, fatphobia says: “Hush, a-spec. You’re only this way because you’re lonely and sad and you haven’t managed to find someone who’s attracted to you (regardless of whether this is true or not).”

And all of this? Is complete, utter nonsense.

In that vein, “Have you tried dating?” isn’t a very different question from, “Have you tried losing weight?” Besides being flippant and dismissive, it doesn’t offer much in the way of actual help that listening and empathy would.

What makes it even more insidious is that these intrusive, probing questions often get couched in terms that make it seem as though the asker is coming from a genuine place of concern. Even if they are, that still doesn’t erase the fact that the fat person’s identity, privacy and personal standards for happiness will always seem like open debate topics.

Furthermore, the pathologization of fat and a-spec orientations puts a double whammy on the fat a-spec by using “legit-sounding” misinformation to make them doubt themselves. As if it’s not bad enough we’re demeaned as worthless, “broken,” and less-than-human despite our character and achievements: apparently, nothing we do or become can ever “make up for” this perceived lack, not in a society that prizes sex and romance.

No, internalized fatphobia and aphobia ensure we constantly have this nagging voice in the back of our heads, saying: “You’re only aro/ace because you had no other options.” “No one will love you the way you want when you’re this fat.” Sometimes these two thoughts get combined in an especially insidious way: “You’re not a valid aro/ace because you’re fat and you believe no one will love you.”

NEVER MIND that drive (libido) does not equal attraction.

NEVER MIND that some aces experience hypersexuality and have naturally high sex drives, and that aromantic people can experience hyperromanticism, and that the a-spec is a spectrum above all and encompasses a wide range of backgrounds, circumstances and orientations—yes, including fat.

NEVER MIND that fat people have been engaged in relationships of all types for ages, and it’s society that perpetuates the lie of the “lonely fatty” to terrorize us and keep us from finding happiness.

NEVER MIND a fat a-spec can still experience the typical hormone imbalances that always get thrown at a-specs as “proof” of their “deceit,” and those imbalances still wouldn’t invalidate them in a thousand years.

Listen. As someone who’s battling all these doubts and more, I just have to say this in conclusion to other fat a-specs: I see you. Maybe you won’t find all the answers you’re looking for. Maybe you’ll never be 100% now-and-forever sure. Maybe these facets of your identity overlap too much for you to separate them, and maybe you don’t want to separate them. The important thing is, you’re recognized, you’re valid.

And you’re not alone.

[neverland-flint-blog]

“The thing is  - fear can’t hurt you anymore than a dream.”                                                                       ~ William Golding

Headcanons

[Unsteady Truth]

Flint has never been unhappy in Neverland, when the bliss of losing grasp on his past finally granted him a sort of peace he hadn’t known before he’s never been able to kick that addiction to freedom. Those early ones were days of sunshine and turning a blind eye to the horrors around him, days of brutal childhood that ran under the surface. But one day the nightmares returned; all because of a Lost Boy by the name of Echo. And with her came agony, not only in the memories of what he had thrown away but in knowing a part of him still doesn’t even want to leave.

The return of those thoughts and the realization of the vicious world of Neverland being all too real sparked a hint of a change in Flint but rather than sending him trying to flee it dredged up desperation to stay. The Other Place was one that stole his childhood and abandoned him to being an adult too soon, saddled with responsibilities that were endlessly thankless. Lately though, with that guilt and the glimpses of something too real around him, Flint has started to open his eyes and maybe, just maybe, he can feel the beginning stirs of fearful change in himself.

[Delusion]

Flint has always been friendly, his wit a hint playfully sarcastic at times, he just has an equal amount of desire for quiet. His moods slide from one to the other, overlying all of it he maintains a degree of calm that many of the other boys are too energetic to have.

Making an enemy of Flint is harder than making a friend; it’s really just a matter of giving him space when he wants it and not questioning too much those moments when he does seem to disconnect a bit more and lose his grip on what might be real.

He always had hints of it but it seemed to have grown worse after an injury during one of Peter’s games; a rather nasty encounter with pirates where Flint ended up nearly falling off a cliff and cracking his skull on the rough rocks in the process. The wound was a painful one, took weeks before he wasn’t dizzy standing, wasn’t clumsy walking, but he recovered to what passed for well enough in spite of everyone’s certainty that he wouldn’t survive the sickness. Since that moment though small things bother him; numbness at times in his right hand, headaches with stress, and now and then something…slips in his awareness.

There is something the Lost Boys have come to expect in his almost two-fold nature; Flint in any good mood is charming and passive, as apt to joke and play harmless games as the rest of them, Flint caught up in something some of the Boys have begun to call his ’Not There’ moments is painfully silent and perplexing, best left alone until he snaps out of it.

Flint himself can’t always sort out what part of his thoughts are true when he’s ’Not There’. Stress is the trigger more often that not, but there are times where it’s hard to pinpoint what causes it. By what would be normal standards it would be labeled as Dissociation disorder, and it’s likely he suffered from it in earlier childhood due to needing a break from reality around him and the weight on his shoulders, but his injury has amplified it far beyond what used to be wandering thoughts to an outright fragmented mind.

Even more unnerving is how the last few months he sometimes doesn’t even recall what he’s done in that state, only has patchy memories that he can’t trust to be real or not. Some of the boys have mentioned he’s a little…strange those moments, prone to intense actions, almost numb to his own actions, but he has no way of knowing if its’ true or only them trying to toy with him. This does frighten him but speaking it out loud, especially around Peter, might give Pan reason to think he’s no longer fit to be one of his followers so Flint doesn’t dare to.

[Monsters]

Ever since his accident Flint has been somewhat fixated on an odd idea that the other boys tend to just laugh off as some passing attempt to scare them with stories. But having come across places he keeps mostly to himself as hideaways when he wanted a moment alone, other than Fen and Echo knowing of them, in dismal states and finding tiny reminders around camp; Flint is entirely convinced there is some manner of twisted creature stalking the Lost Boys. Or perhaps more specifically himself, since it always seems to be his hideouts that are left nearly destroyed in ways too precise to be an animal, his possessions that come up missing only to be found destroyed.

He’s worked it out to some creature lurking, not human but not animal; some strange beast that delights in causing misery. He’s also almost certain he’s seen the creature in shadow and the haunting night; claws and burning eyes in the dark, and most certainly in his nightmares.

Since he has no proof, or any idea what sort of beast he could have upset through some action, Flint isn’t fully certain if what he thinks to be real truly is. He knows the feeling comes on much stronger when he’s shaken off one of his disconnected moments; a fact that he considers his mind trying to warn him. But who knows what might lurk in Neverland; the forests are old and wild, the Small Folk can’t be the only strange ones walking those paths, can they?

Far more likely it’s some projected delusion to give him distance from his own numb state when he’s trapped Not There, but who can actually know for certain if it’s only a trick of his mind to shelter him from the things he does and what he destroys in that frame or if there really is some creature crawling through the heavy darkness with eyes set upon the boys. Or, with as intense as his belief has become, if a once-nightmare may have gathered just enough of the terrible magic of that place to become more than only a terrifying thought.

[Peter]

Ignorance was bliss; with the return of some of his memories Flint has begun to feel at odds with his leader. Seeing hints of cruelty in Peter is difficult for him; he was at one point one of Pan’s most attentively loyal followers, very resolute in his faith in the other boy. And he still wants to be; the hardest part for Flint is seeing the changes, catching a glimpse of Peter all smiles and joy and watching that shatter the next instant. Because, truth be told, Flint admired Peter not too long ago, was intensely grateful to him for pulling him out of the life he had. He still is grateful, but he’s also growing more uneasy, more unwilling to speak out against Peter but just as unwilling to allow things to carry on how they are.

Flint has adopted the habit of trying to talk Peter down from his extremes; it never really works but he doesn’t want to see Peter fade into something terrible so he never stops trying either, or listening the rare times Pan will confide something to him. Some days it’s easy to shrug off the doubts, others….he wonders how safe they all really are when Peter’s whims are so swift to change.

[Brother’s Keeper]

He has accepted that his life, his family, it all remains in Neverland and he cannot fathom leaving. The Lost Boys need him and they are a family he cannot forsake, knowing the torment of having done that once in his past already. They do come and go far too swiftly; only a handful ever seem to last out very long and those are always either the loudest or the favored of their leader. Flint has worked out the wisdom in exercising some caution when dealing with Peter himself, and in trying to safeguard the other boys without making the effort too obvious. It’s why he urges the weakest to grow stronger, the ones with soft voices to find some conviction in their words; it’s too easy for those who are overlooked to simply disappear or suffer some horrible end.

While he never meant to end up in that role it may be a throwback to his old life, to those days when he gave everything to his family’s needs; even if he turned away from it because some things are simply too much to throw on a child Flint has grown some in Neverland, even without want to do so. And with that comes the truth that some habits and convictions are just part of who a person is, at his core Flint is protective of those around him and ultimately a kind soul in spite of the extremes it takes to survive. He may not speak out against Peter directly, as he still wants to believe in him, it doesn’t stop him from trying to reason with him for the sake of the other boys when the games turn deadly even if he knows how useless it is. How many times has he stepped up to volunteer for one of Peter’s off-skewed whims that might have killed one of the younger boys, the ones too new to understand the dangers or the shifting mood of their leader? How many scars does he carry from shouldering that burden?

So many. And the ugliness to it is that many of the boys think him only selfish, only bragging on his own ability, his want to impress Peter and make them look foolish when he jumps into their place. Flint never bats an eye to their grumbling over how he’s so eager to win Peter’s approval that he’ll refuse to give the other boys a chance; if Peter himself didn’t think that to be the case and approve of the chaos it causes he’d lose his chance to protect them as best he can.

[Double-edged Swords]

The Lost Boys live in a bloody world, it’s unkind and some of Peter’s games are vicious. That side of it Flint has little stomach for but it doesn’t mean he’s likely to back down when it comes to those violent moments. It’s not something he enjoys but failure often ends with someone not surviving and in those terms he’s willing to fight to see to it that his friends make it out alive. Too often the pirates are out for blood in their own right, and in those terms he has no choice and knows it. He doesn’t take pleasure in the necessity but he’s resolute; the only right and wrong Flint feels anymore is in keeping his family as safe as he can manage to. Sometimes it’s not about trust in Peter nearly as much as knowing that a loss has terrible consequences.

Flint has been around long enough to have learned how to fight, more so he’s adaptive in it and favors using his surroundings to his advantage. He is strategic; something that either delights Peter or frustrates him depending on if he wants the boys to lose the game. There are dozens of ways in almost every inch of Neverland to get hurt, from makeshift weapons to cliffs and punishing waters; anything that can be used to give him an upper hand is something worth exploiting to Flint. Most of the boys are vicious, throw themselves into a fight, but Flint keeps his focus sharp and more often than not comes out of things without too many wounds to sport because he’s thinking a few steps ahead.  

In a way his ability in a fight and lack of hesitation has earned him a wary eye from some of the boys; they can’t quite figure out how he can go from such extremes so suddenly but they don’t try to challenge it. They don’t realize he does it for their sake, they only see one of their own who is so unnervingly calm and focused in those games.

The exception is one that he hasn’t yet had to face but remains fearful he one day might; those twisted moments Peter opts to pit the Boys against each other. In any normal game Flint might try, knowing he can throw the match when it comes down to it but on those rare occasions that Peter expects it to carry to the death he wouldn’t be able to take the life of one of his friends. The guise of being a bit ruthless otherwise when he has to has so far kept him out of situations like that, but there might come a day he doesn’t walk away from one of those games because he won’t have the blood of a friend haunting him.

[Secrets]

In spite of his strange moments, and the frustration some of the boys feel over his constantly overstepping them in those battle games, most of them do trust Flint. He’s easy to talk to, when he wants to talk, and he’s a good listener. Too good in fact; so many of the boys have spilled their secrets out to him in moments of weariness that he feels half buried under the things he knows that he cannot share. A great deal of them are tiny thing; who has what sort of grudge against who, where things whatever boy considers too good to share with the group might be hidden, even the occasional complaint about Peter falls upon him every so often. But rarely something more dire might each his ears; memories of home that should not be spoken, doubts, fears; all things Flint tries to ease in his friends but feels he falls too short of. But he tries none the less, because they give him those things that are so close to their tired hearts and he earnestly wants to help.

It is dangerous though, knowing too much. Peter no longer says much to Flint in regards to his own secrets, not that he ever did in the first place, but occasionally he’ll get wind of some stirring among the boys and turns to Flint to fish out what just might be causing the noise in his ranks.

It’s made Flint a good liar when he needs to be; if he can get away with telling the truth in ways that won’t upset Pan he’ll attempt it but Peter’s moods turn so suddenly now that he relies more and more on directing the questions anywhere else that he can.

Thankfully those moods don’t take a lot to push onto some other idea but Flint can’t help an anxious feeling every time Peter comes looking for him alone since letting the wrong secret slip could end in another of his friends suffering for it.

[Obscurity]

One of the easiest ways to keep your head when tempers run too high among the boys is the simplest; stay out of the way. Flint has never been as outspoken as some, feels no need to, but he is rather good at planting ideas if he feels like it’s for the good of everyone. It’s nothing he tries with Peter, he gave up long ago making any effort to urge the older boy into doing much of anything because Pan is too unpredictable by his very nature. But around their home he tries to keep the peace by offering the occasional word or two while he carries on in the background. It’s one case where being overlooked is more a gift than a curse; the joke that he’s always going to be around somewhere making sure the camp isn’t on fire or that most everyone gets a meal when there’s enough to go around is one the bolder boys enjoy tossing at him; calling him the group shadow.

Not a title Flint really minds so much though, when it gives him a chance to stay out of the spotlight and for that reason out of Peter’s angry sights when they flare up. Truth be told it’s more the case that Peter forgets Flint is even still around most of the time until he notices him doing something useful; as dull as he finds the boy outside of shoving him into the chaos of those battles Flint picks up some of the more mundane slack around their home and the tasks Peter has no desire to waste his time with like seeing to the wounds of the Boys with the crude version of medical care that passes for what the group as a whole knows, or making sure that unstable home they share doesn’t fall entirely into destruction.

[Bonds]

Flint tries to get along with pretty much anyone he crosses paths with, even offering a begrudging amount of distance to the Pirates so long as they return it. But it when it comes to his closest confidant that role falls to Fen.

Very shortly after meeting he wasn’t certain what to make of Fen’s incredibly reckless nature but it was that exactly that won him over, found him respecting how easily he just let go and enjoyed the world around him. It also helped that Fen been didn’t really make demands of him, something that Flint wasn’t used to after the life he left behind. So the two quickly settled into being seemingly unlikely best friends.

The largest part of it is mostly because Fen gives Flint the chance to step outside of his worries and simply be as childish as he wants. While he does keep a watchful eye on the other boy he has faith that Fen is capable of taking care of himself, and even knowing most of the ideas they scheme up together are bad ones that’s half the fun to it. The two carry on endlessly at a game of trying to outdo the other but it’s never as dire as the games some of the other Lost Boys play, almost always ending in teasing. In truth they lose track constantly of who might be winning, though always claim it to be themselves when asked what the score any given day might be, and it doesn’t really matter. Fen brings out that side to Flint that is eager to explore, to challenge the wonders of Neverland, and to just be carefree. When Flint is too far buried in his own thoughts it’s usually Fen who pulls him out of them, never letting him linger dark places for long and always with some playful retort to bring a smile back to his face, or just as often one of his own in return.

It can’t always be said that Fen brings out the best in Flint, talking him into foolish ideas, or putting him at odds with Rufio when Fen has a fight to pick there; nearly always Fen’s battles are Flints’ and Flint’s are Fen’s to share. Because all the Lost Boys know when it comes down to it Flint and Fen are always going to side with each other before anyone else, right or wrong.

The humor they share sometimes seems to only make sense that the two of them but most of the other Lost Boys have learned to just roll their eyes when some sort of friendly argument sparks between them, knowing it will end in laughter rather than blood. Honestly Flint can’t imagine Neverland without his best friend there, Fen knows his secrets, his hesitations and knows the guilt is starting to eat at him. Fen even knows the one thing that Flint won’t speak to anyone else about, even Echo; his apprehension lately over those moments that he can’t remember.

Next to Fen is Echo; the girl who may as well be a ghost haunting him, only she is real and she has brought the past he does not want right back to him. She reminds him so very much of his sister, to the point that he feels that need to protect her even though Echo does a perfectly good job of looking after herself. Still, as skewed as it is to  have adopted her into the idea of his second chance at doing right what he did wrong in abandoning his family for the freedom Peter offered, it is something Flint is very devoted to.

He doesn’t likely need to be Echo’s ‘big brother’ but he’s almost set himself unwavering to the idea, and she allows it, trailing along with him and Fen on their little solo adventures at times. He does care about her, what started as guilt in a memory has turned into actual friendship and a brotherly fondness for her, which puts him at odds at moments when Peter regards her as a problem. She has a way of being both someone who haunts him and someone he trusts a great deal; but his insistence over her well being likely frustrates the poor girl at times.  

[People]

For someone who does like his space at times, when he’s not interested in keeping to himself Flint is surprisingly warm and affectionate. He’s tactile in a sense, those who he considers friends he’s comfortable enough around to keep close. He likes the warmth of other people, likes being able to have that friendly contact as a sense of reassurance and it’s nothing really for one of the others to be upset and Flint be willing to sit up all night with them under the stars in an easy sort of shared space.

That said, Flint understands affection between friends in a still mostly innocent way; like many of the them he has no real reference for the idea in the terms of attraction or desire. He may be beginning to understand the feeling of such things with some of the blinders of absolute childhood gone, but the complicated road of love, want and physical interest are still perplexing at best and not ground he’s ventured into.

Any twinges of that idea that might cross him are bound to be all the more perplexing for the fact that the fleeting thoughts he’s had of attraction to others have been recently as he’s begun to be more aware, and almost entirely directed at the other Lost Boys. It’s not much of a shock, perhaps, that he hardly sees the idea of being attracted to males as strange given that his closest friends for a long while have been nearly entirely male and of the females he has known Echo he looks to as a sibling and the Merfolk, lovely as they are, frighten him too much to have any interest in.

[Merfolk]

Flint is afraid of the Merfolk, has been since he saw his first death in Neverland at the vicious claws of them; something that was terrifying enough to keep him cautious around the waters and generally unwilling to wander into their territory the way the other Lost Boys might sometimes do. He still feels a twinge of anxiety over the memory; of seeing one of this friends get jerked under the waves never to surface again. Just knowing the stories of what the Merfolk do, of their claws and teeth and their hunger; Flint has never felt safe in waters he know they claim as their own.

When Peter insists everyone spend time among the waves Flint sticks to the shore, always watching for motion amid the crystal waters, always afraid he’ll see it tinged with blood once more. And it’s not an unfounded fear; in his time in Neverland several have died at the hands of those who live in the waters; Flint can’t trust their intentions. They know this, he’s not subtle in his avoidance of them, and some of the Merfolk have taken to tormenting him about it but he can shoulder it so long as he knows he’s safe with dry ground under his feet.

[Sleep]

It’s no secret among the Lost Boys that Flint has nightmares, that he spends many nights restless. He tends to sleep nearby to Fen and Echo if he can manage it, often times listening to Fen talk about his own strange dreams when they’re both left awake by the images sleep soaks their minds with. He’s developed a bit of a quirk in his sleeping habits though. Flint prefers not to sleep on the ground at all if he can avoid it; his bed of choice is in the trees.

It feels more comfortable for him, a better vantage point to see the world around him and the stars above, and the logic of knowing if something is going to try to attack at night being off the ground is a better idea stays with him. It’s a wonder he doesn’t fall half the time but somehow he manages to stay in his lofty resting spots even with the nightmares biting at him. Unfortunately more than once waking him up has involved a snatch at his ankle that leaves him tumbling to the ground; Peter himself enjoys playing that trick on him if he thinks Flint is sleeping in too late or just has done something to deserve a rude awakening.

[Letters]

Flint used to write letters to his family, once he remembered more of his past, apologizing for leaving them, to his mother missing her, saying over and over again that he never meant for it to happen but Neverland became the home he can’t stand leaving. It gave him comfort for a while, the letters buried in spots here and there, left for the earth to reclaim or on the rare occasion tossed to the sea in the hopes that somehow his sister might find one of them.

He still does it, but no longer for his own family, he can’t stomach the ache of that. Now he writes letters for the Lost Boys who fall, the ones who find their end in that place, giving them to the sea to take away to other places. Those letters hold memories of his friends and goodbye to their families for them, even if there is no real chance of the words reaching them. The others he writes and it’s become something of a ritual for him to go to their favorite spots and tuck the letters away; letting them know that they’ve not been forgotten. It feels like keeping their memory alive; very often the boys go without graves to claim so it feels a bit like giving them that much at least.

[fictionfromgames]

2019 (Buffy/Angel Eden studios)

Lawrence Myers (January)

"I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

The cameras never stopped, but years at the firm led to an impeccable public persona. It was a large part of how a two term representative got picked out as VP, but then again, a little help from the Senior Partners goes a long way. He gave a picture perfect smile to the judge, bigger than the tight control he normally displayed, but still just as false.

It would be a while before he got to a place of privacy, something that made him begin to clench his jaw after a while. The American people were desperately pathetic, constantly delaying anything worthwhile, and he needed to get out.

Lawrence smoothed his salt and pepper hair, the only gesture he allowed himself, and largely as a joke for the press. His assistant was hovering in the periphery, and there was nothing he’d rather be doing than delegating long-awaited tasks.

He gestured to Mallory; an hour in and it was far past time to get the hell out of there. No more shmoozing, no more firing up the very amenable base. It was time.

“Sir, we’ve got a meet-and-greet in Virginia next--” Mallory began.

“Stop and listen,” President Myers said, his genial mask slipping into the authoritative annoyance he’d honed so well, “Call my guys at Homeland Security and ICE. I want all funding to IDRS halted and deferred to them.”

“Of course,” his assistant knew better than to respond with hesitation or confusion, “We’ll work up a press release too.”

“America solves its own problems, we don’t need INTERPOL junior here doing whatever the fuck they want,” he declared, “I don’t care who it needs to go through, we’ll start with an executive order if I have to.” “Absolutely,” Mallory complied, writing everything down, “And about the rally--”

“Fucking rallies,” his brow creased, conjuring up the lines in his brow that should have been deeper at 50, “That horseshit needs to be cut in half if we’re gonna get anything done this year.”

“Of course.”

A New, Confused Hope (March)

The tones of the aggravating electric chime rang again. Probably some lookie-loo or new witch seeking locally grown sage. Luckily, it does well enough in pots, so Logan always had a supply for the newly witchy.

He sniffed. Among the incenses and minty goodness of the growing sage, he caught a distinct eau de troll, and... “Hey, Aszea, try not to get vamp dust everywhere,” he called out without looking to the front of the shop.

“Logan, is Janis in? We have a kind of a situation,” the giant woman responded.

The way Aszea said situation made his ears perk, and probably would have without extra sensitive hearing. He placed his book down and made his way to the front, and was a little surprised that there were two people, and that the young woman with the troll was actually the one who smelled of dead vampires.

“Wwwwwwwhat?” Logan looked confused.

“So this is Emily.” Aszea put a hand softly on the girl’s shoulders, “She’s a sophomore at the catholic school, and she just killed like, three vampires.”

“Wait, really?” Logan moved around the counter, “That sounds like Slayer stuff, but--” “Right, she had a little assistance,” Aszea looked indignant, “But I told her about the Augury, and that we may be able to help her learn about what’s going on, and that, while it’s weird to have adult friends...”

“Having adult employers would be a good cover for a new Potential,” Logan knew immediately. He realized he’d carried a crystal ball out from stock, and set it down on an empty stand. “Twenty hours a week of magical supervision, little to no suspicion.”

“Twenty paid hours,” Aszea pointed out.

“Can you help me?” the girl’s eyes finally flickered up from her thousand yard stare. She was still in shock over what had happened, and Logan felt all the deeply bittersweet memories of watching someone learn some truth about the world lean a little more bitter when they locked eyes.

“Of course,” he said as softly as he could, “Just let me text the boss lady.”

Bad Actors (September)

“Well, shit!” Janis cursed, double-checking her phone.

“More amateur mages mucking up the mojo?” Logan asked, leaning over the counter.

“No, this was a test,” Janis held a finger in the air, “Someone is doing this on purpose, poisoning the well, and Iiiiiiiiii...”

Her face fell as she knew she’d have to admit something.

“Don’t know what to do about it?” Logan cut into her thought break.

“Yes, thanks, I was going to say that,” Janis twisted her mouth up, “Did you find the sleep daught?”

“Yeah, but I gotta skip it, Asz said there’s an inordinate amount of undead lately so I’ll be off the leash,” he said without looking at her.

“Any better at it? Can’t have you biting our only Slayer ally,” Janis crossed her arms, partly to glower and mostly to stop staring into her phone.

“I’ll tell you when you figure out what’s going on with the Tumblr coven.”

It was often tempting to throw annoying hexes at Logan, but ever since Myers ascended to the presidency, everything had been looking worse for the magical community, and she couldn’t afford to piss off any allies, even her werewolf store clerk.

“Who’d have thought I’d be curious as to where Phil went since January, huh?” she brushed a lock of hair out of her face, a small act of control in her increasingly chaotic life.

All Saints’ Order (November)

Brian raised his hands in victory. The molotov had crashed through the heathen storefront, and a small fire began taking hold inside. The Augury would be cleansed from his city.

Around him, his brothers cheered, hoisting their various weapons into the air, yells of “Hail Myers!” amongst the more enthusiastic wordlessness. They’d save their country, he knew, they’d start the next crusade, they’d burn--

Janis ended the spell.

“What’s happening?” Emily spoke up.

“We’re minus one shop and plus one openly fascistic anti-magic movement,” Janis responded flatly.

“Fuck,” was Aszea’s whole contribution the conversation.

*****************

So the last post was a couple years ago, and I’ve been watching a lot of Buffy, so here’s some setting update.

Lawrence Myers, 46th president of the United States, was a lawyer at a little firm known as Wolfram & Hart, and spent two terms as a representative for the state of Nevada before being courted, seemingly at random, as VP. When a very unexpected death opened up a vacancy in the White House, his administration fed on the zeitgeist of right wing American concerns and interests: a desire for law and order, fed by a covert program that produced chaos in the form of systematically sired mobs of vampires; fear and revulsion at the statistics of religion, that “witch” was now outpacing the growth of more “traditional” religious tendencies (see: christian denominations); and retaliation, essentially encouraged by the White House with its failure to criticize vigilante actions against apparently “satanic” sorts, such as middle class store owners or their working class superpowered/strange employees. Meanwhile, already prestigious or successful warlocks and demonic allies remained untouched by the ignorant sycophants.

Janis Morad, witch, demonologist, former entrepreneur. “Technopagan” is a term of the past, largely discarded in favor just plain ole witch, and Janis made her first sales online when Certain Social Websites started making witchcraft aesthetic. Using mundane practitioners to fund her own actual magickal ventures, she was largely able to fly under the radar until the All Saints’ executive order, which was supposed to fund governmental policing of Weird Stuff, but also just kind of invigorated an irate and clueless portion of the populace.

Logan Benson, werewolf. He was bit shortly before going to work with Janis, and has been pacified in his wolf phases by Janis’ alchemical experimentations. He’s been more and more eager to help out Aszea on nights as she seems immune to lycanthropy and is both tough and regenerative enough to survive the more mundane mauling that happened when he and the troll first met.

Emily Szymanski, Slayer. She’s mostly around because I had an idea that I liked-- that the Slayer Potential awakening spell was for extant Slayer Potentials when it was cast, not every one of them since. That being the case (how generous of me to myself), beginning in 2018 or later is the perfect time-- as Potentials come into age fifteen years later, we could be seeing one brand new Slayer for every one that has died since s7 of Buffy. This opens things up to a classic high school Slayer experience that we’re familiar with, while also still seeing a few “grizzled” vets in their mid to late twenties. I tend to assume “The life of a Slayer is brutally short,” but you don’t have to.

Generally speaking, she’s timid, I envisioned her as a nerdy Slayer, which will be fleshed out and statted when I get to it.

Aszea, troll. She was transformed from her assigned gender at birth through a wish-- one that she did not word carefully enough despite assuming she’d been quite particular. She wished to be a woman, but not specifically a human woman, and whoops. Now she mostly patrols and is the big muscle of the group.

Beyond this post, it’ll be set concurrent to whenever I’m writing, which is why I wanted to jump past all the time I didn’t include since the first two posts. Characters will have character sheets whenever they get their own story.

[fanfic-scribbles]

02. Leaves

A/N: Ugh, these were all supposed to be drabbles of about 500 words. So far I am not setting a good precedence for myself. Nonetheless, here is prompt (and part) two. Apologies for whatever fuckery happens with the tenses; present tense is surprisingly difficult for me to do. But practice makes perfect.

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Gabriel being a good friend as Gabriel determines what a good friend is. Pining.

Why why why did I think this was a good idea?!

The morning is surprisingly filled with regret, considering how painfully sober you are. You’re also painfully antsy and restless to boot– both of which are, technically, Castiel’s fault. Dean’s shoulder had gotten messed up on the last hunt. But when Dean had called Cas to heal him, the angel had taken one look at the group of you, (apparently looking quite ragged after three weeks of nonstop hunting), and told Dean to rest it, that he would heal it in a week. Dean had balked, Sam had thanked Cas and stumbled into bed, and you had stood there, blinking in surprise as Dean and Cas had argued over what really counted for ‘Dean’s own good’ before you had shuffled off to bed, conflicted.

That was three days ago. Since then Cas has popped in at least every morning, if not more than once a day, to make sure Dean isn’t in any pain. He and Dean bicker like only the best of friends can and normally it’s fun to watch. Cas being petulant and stubborn with you is annoying. Cas being petulant and stubborn with anyone else is hilarious and adorable. Today, though, the thought of interacting with Cas first thing in the morning has sent you into a panic, so you bugged off for a walk and now here you are, stomping through the woods without anything really to do, kicking your way through piles of leaves.

Well…there’s an idea. You stop and look around. Your lips quirk into a smile and you start shuffling leaves into a slowly growing pile. You scrape them with your boots to make sure there are no bugs or spiders living in or under them, because that’s a mistake you never need to make. During the process you find a branch with enough sticks left on it that it makes a fairly decent rake/broom, and before long you have a very respectable, grown-up sized pile.

You're about to leap into the fruit of your labor when a familiar, level voice says, “What are you doing?” You turn and the look on Castiel’s face is…

You’ve always done your best not to laugh at any of Castiel’s questions about humanity because it can be overwhelming, even to other humans, and you never want to scare him away from asking entirely. But now, the way he’s looking at a harmless pile of leaves– he’s so confused that he’s angry, like he’d just as soon smite the foliage as look at it, and you can’t help but double over. That annoyance turns to you, but because you know he’d never hurt you, you grin at him. “Hey, Cas. You like my leaf pile?”

He tilts his head down and looks up at you like that’s seriously the dumbest question ever, but you know him well enough that you know he’s burning with curiosity. He always wants to understand. That’s one of those things that you lo–…yes, that you love about him.

“I thought Dean was aggravating.” Cas looks at you with faint disapproval. It’s…hotter than it should be. “At least when I bar him from hunting he only sulks around the bunker and shoots at unmoving targets; he doesn’t decide to clean up a forest. Is it that impossible for you to rest?”

You laugh. “I am resting!” His gaze hardens. “Seriously, I’m not cleaning. I’m making a leaf pile.”

He still doesn’t get it, but some of the hostility fades when he squints at you. “Why?” he asks slowly, almost like he’s afraid to know this one.

“Because…” You look at the pile and then back to Cas. “Watch,” you say, and make a running leap. They’re packed in enough that you sink just the right amount. Cas is still staring in confusion so you get out, re-fluff the pile, and do it again. You do it two more times, huffing and smiling with the kind of joy that can only come from acting like a child.

“I…” Cas frowns. “I still don’t understand.”

“It’s fun!” you say. Cas looks…unconvinced. “It’s something kids do, so it’s childish, I guess, but it’s still fun as an adult too.”

“Ah.”

“Try it,” you say without thinking. At the pinch of his brow you almost take it back, but when you do think about it, it actually doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

“No- no thank you,” he says.

“Aw, come on. Just once?” you plead and something in his eyes relents. “Here, just follow my lead.” You take off in a faster run and jump just a little harder. You land deeper and laugh– until another mass lands dangerously close and you shriek.

“Did I do it wrong?” Cas looks at you for guidance. In this pile you’re semi-protected from the outside world so your heart doesn’t really slow down so much, especially when you realize his leg is touching yours and fuck, how desperate can one person be? you scold yourself. Here, though, in this quiet space, so close, this would be perfect. If you could only say…

“No, Cas, you did- it looks like you did it perfect.” You clear your throat. “You just…surprised me; I was gonna get out before you jumped in.”

“Oh. I apologize.”

“It’s okay, Cas.” The silence is awkward from the get-go and no, not now; the moment is over. Later. Maybe tomorrow. You have an entire month to buck up; so there’s no need to do it here and now and fuck this is getting even more awkward somebody really needs to say something. “So, uh, what’s- what’s the verdict?”

“Hm?” Cas asks. He turns his eyes lazily towards you and you try to hide your own eyes from those piercing bright blues.

“Jumping in leaves. What do you think?”

“Oh.” He concentrates, like this is a serious matter to be considered. “I can see why you enjoy it but I’m afraid it did not do much for me.”

“That’s okay,” you say and stand up. You offer him a hand to help him out, which he takes, and you feel emboldened by the fact that his mere touch doesn’t turn you into jelly. “But hey,” you say and lightly hit his shoulder. “At least you tried it.”

He smiles. Fuck. So much for not turning to jelly. “Thank you for inviting me to try it.”

“No problem. That’s what I’m here for.” You look down. “All the dumb human stuff Sam and Dean probably won’t do with you.”

“If it makes you smile, it is not dumb. It is worthwhile,” he says. You chuckle and smile at him, trying to be normal because that’s a general ‘you’ not you you, though you are included, and ugh, you really don’t want to be in your own head today, seriously, why are you like this you’re not twelve anymore.

“I need to be going. Have fun,” he says and turns. You allow yourself one moment of pure longing before he is gone in a flutter of wings. Alone in the woods, you sigh.

Something big crashes into your pile of leaves and you put your hand on your knife.

“You know, if you looked at him like that when he could actually see you, even my oblivious, emotionally stunted baby brother might catch a clue.”

You roll your eyes and turn to see Gabriel lounging in your leaf pile like it’s the world’s biggest and comfiest beanbag chair. Despite his words, you smile at your friend. “Gabriel.”

He says your name, just as mock-serious before he grins and hops out in a way that defies physics. Because Gabriel. “So…” he says, circling you like a predator. “When are you going to tell Castiel that stern lectures and squinting make you all weak in the knees? Do you need some help?”

“No,” you say immediately, knowing exactly what Gabriel means by that and your ‘do not want’ meter is at its max. “No, I don’t need help. I’m going to tell him.”

“When?” Gabriel asks, obviously disbelieving.

“This month,” you say resolutely. He stops in front of you and offers you a wrapped candy of some sort, but you wave it off and he shrugs and pops it in his mouth. “I gave myself a month. I have to tell him by November 1st.”

“I see.” He looks unimpressed. “And what happens if you don’t?”

“Uh…” You haven’t thought of that. You just figure failure isn’t an option. “But I will.”

He rolls his eyes and– “Don’t look at me like that,” you say, offended and unnerved by the dramatics going on with his face.

“Honestly sweetheart, you’ve been smitten for years and haven’t confessed yet. Just because you gave yourself a timeline now doesn’t mean jack if you don’t have incentive,” he says.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you grumble, a little hurt.

Gabriel waves his hand and he smirks. “Luckily, I am the king of incentive.”

You really, really don’t like where this is going. “Gabriel–”

“Yup, motivation, that’s exactly what you need!” Gabriel throws his arm around you and tugs you in close. “So…if you haven’t confessed by midnight on the first of next month, I will trap you and Castiel in a pocket dimension and keep you there until you do confess.”

You gape. “Gabr-!”

“Yeah, I know, it’s a little uninventive but I’ve got a month to work out the details.” His eyes are shining with delight as he pulls away. “Maybe I’ll get a movie screen and replay all those doe-eyed stares you’ve sent him over the years.”

You groan. “Gabe!”

“I can even pull in the Winchesters for testimonials about how love-sick you’ve been.”

“Gabriel!”

“It’s okay, it’s no trouble at all. What are friends for!” he says and pats your cheek. “Remember– one month!”

You open your mouth, not sure what you’re going to say but certain it’s going to involve a string of swear words and choice insults, when you are suddenly alone yet again. Whirling around you see no trace of that delightful archangel whom you absolutely don’t want to pluck like a holiday hen, no siree. Alone (really, actually this time), you groan to the ever-unhelpful heavens.

One month. No problem. Right.

[takebackthetreasure92]

Making myself clear to my ex-stalkers

This is an email I sent my former staff worker from InterVarsity Christian Fellowship in February 2018. Apparently, InterVarsity remains under the impression that I won't speak out about the fact that they gang-stalked me and encouraged my abuser to harass me--even strangle me. And spread slander about me that they knew was false, just because my would-be murderer was a model student leader and it was my reputation or his. Are they really foolish enough to think I will back down? #InterVarsity #metoo

"Hi Jordan,

This is just to set you straight on a few things and make sure you understand what I hope for and don't hope for with you in future. The reason for using the pseudonymous email address is just a precaution against a certain ex at the moment because my legal name change is not information he needs right now, but I think you know who this is ;). (It's Julian, who has ditched their birth name for good.)

So I know that you, at the very least, had the decency to recognize the low and utterly puerile nature of your betrayal of me. You even almost got yourself to believe your own lies sometimes. I say almost because you had your somewhat squeamish moments, like when you used Gregor's last abusive accusation of non-forgiveness as a way to try to shut me up about every way our former cult had fucked up. (Honey, you realize your willful blindness to InterVarsity's more dangerous qualities and failure to watch Gregor's paranoia and rage, both of which escalated almost no matter what I did (keeping my mouth shut not being something I owed him or that he deserved), could have resulted in me getting literally strangled to death at Rockbridge, right? If you honestly don't--well, that ought to at least explain quite a lot about my continued hypervigilance around IV that led to some perfectly understandable PTSD paranoia. Google around and inform yourself on what that looks like. For your love of God, please recognize the signs in the students that come your way in future at Needle's Eye or anywhere else.)

Jordan, I feel like if you had paid closer attention to the things I was trying to tell you every time I brought it up or a PTSD flashback brought it to mind, which I unabashedly recall was often because...your cult was (and is) dangerous, you might have picked up on the fact that I was hoping to wake you up to what was going on in the ministry. And you used both my persistence and my PTSD to stab me in the back in what was the most manipulative way possible (no matter what prettier half-truth you told the self-righteous and naive Halen about it). Your smile at me when you knew Josh's confusion at that ridiculous gossip situation (your poisonous cult was the problem there, dear, not me) gave you a way to fuck me over, and to let your own childish ass off the hook for having an openly pro-gay transgender member, recalled a seven-year-old boy who had just told a perfect fib to the teacher on someone else and thought he was going to keep the candy he stole from that other person after all. You were a child, to be blunt, Jordan, just an immature, accountability-shirking little boy who threw his more Christ-like morals completely out the window--and all in the name of covering up every disgusting arm-twist (all failed arm-twists in my case, hee hee hee) and mind game and coercive (and often abusive) move InterVarsity had ever pulled to keep its attendees in line. Speaking of which, your expression when you thought I was about to blurt out the words "I was gay" at one event might have led someone else to think I was about to forcibly break someone else's arm, at the very least. Jordan, becoming disappointed when people who say something controversial on Facebook and then have the temerity to show up at your event--that is a fifteen-year-old thing to do. Admittedly it's better than seven, but *really?*

You know, what I give myself a pat on the back for is not giving in to your or Gregor's immature insistence that I keep my mouth shut. What you did there was wrong, Jordan, not least because you knew perfectly well Gregor was a very, *very* dangerous person when his narcissism was threatened. The only thing I caved on with him was the fact that during our casual relationship he monopolized my time romantically, literally stalked me, and acted very petulant and possessive when other men's names came up--and in the later stages of that contemporaneously cheated on me with my roommate and later went out of his way to paint me as a complete ninny for getting offended by that, as if nonconsensually holding someone to romantic double standards does not count as cheating, which of course anyone without pathological narcissism and over the age of 18 or so knows it does. Just because I gave him my silence on just that one at the time for Brooke (who truly had no clue because she had taken his fibs hook, line and sinker, to the point where he would have had no problem still messing with her mind by smearing his way out of further accountability, just like you did with me later in the game) did not mean that I was going to even begin to overlook my conviction that InterVarsity classmates needed to be told what the ministry was capable of, under the wrong circumstances and with the promise of seizing more and more control over the lives of its members. That I never ceded that control to you all--for which again, I feel extremely blessed and grateful, but to God goes that glory--is of course the real reason you gave me the boot and then tried so hard to mindfuck me into thinking I had no one but my own sorry, selfish, deep-in-sin self to blame.

LOL! Grow up, Jordan. That is the kind of silly lie a fourteen-year-old boy tells his partner (especially if his partner is female-identified and he therefore feels entitled to say it to "his girl") when he's trying to get a get-out-of-jail-free card for screwing her over by making her believe it's because of something she's done. Spiritually, you are the one who needs to get your shit together. You and InterVarsity fucked our friendship over, and you delivered the coup de gras for an incredibly selfish, inappropriately domineering, and silly reason. Emma may have been able to behave like a manipulative, completely brainwashed fool on the matter most of the time (which of course, to a degree, she was), but your own acting and/or (more likely) self-deception skills left just a bit more to be desired. I mean, I get that the staff routinely throw both themselves and their dogma at people to earn their allegiance (in many ways it was like dealing with very persistent pimps, especially when you were trying to shut me up, just to be brutally honest there), but still. And for the record, I have called Gregor out on everything (partly to cleanse my own mind of any toxic remnants of his brainwashing and mainly to secure my safety and my partner's, now that Gregor lives just over in Nashville) and threatened him with a restraining order based on both his abuse and threats and his (actual) stalking behavior if he *ever* resumes any of that again--and pointed out to him that pointing those projections of his back at him where they belong would be a cakewalk in any "court of law," should it come to that. Which of course praise God it almost certainly won't, now that I've made it clear I don't trust him to behave in the event of reconciliation, not in this life. For the last seven years all I've wanted for him was for him to be free of all the poison in his soul--that is a wish extremely near and dear to my own heart and soul--which is why your disgusting use of the ammo he gave you in telling you of his self-exculpatory-nine-year-old accusation of non-forgiveness (no, child, the reason it so visibly hit home was not actually being guilty of that; I've given you the real reason) was so, so, SO low. And I did not give a fuck about what Mary and the other brainwashed, narrow, and foolish girls thought, just to be radically honest about them.

Again, for your own sake, for the sakes of your students in Needle's Eye, and literally for God's sake, you have got to get your spiritual shit together. For years I thought you were one of the ones who also remembered to hold onto principle and, more importantly, a sense of principle *that originates within the self,* not the cult. I was very, very wrong about that. As advice, I'll let you know that I often felt like one of the few people in the cult who hung on to their adulthood in that sense, mainly *because* I would not relinquish control over my life, let alone my mind. You almost got me with the implied lie about everything being just "benevolent misunderstandings," but in my heart and in the hearts of others who would have been vilified and dismissed right and left, had they voiced those opinions to the overenmeshed majority, all those childish fibs never quite held water. Your crimson-faced mortification when I cunningly ratted your bullshit out to Josh--that was a very adult high five on your part, so I sincerely high-five you in return for all that--said it all.

I need scarcely say that I make no apologies at all for exposing all of your evil as a ministry to the university's first-years. They were the ones who needed to be warned in light of all your intrusive, sneaky, manipulative, and just plain disrespectful rubbish in infiltrating the move-in volunteer staff and pulling out all the shots in your usual WAY-too-manipulative ploys to lure new people over. There is a world of difference between wanting a person to be Saved--God has a myriad of tools suited to that purpose, as you well know, for which good old-fashioned prayer will suffice if it's meant to be--and wanting to be the saving force and guide. And there certainly is a difference, a very consequential AND spiritually essential difference, in wanting it so intensely that you will stoop to ANYTHING to pull people into your ministry, not RUF or Cornerstone, and to make sure they join, stay, and follow YOU. The real kicker here is that their definition of "follow" is for their members ENTIRELY too invasive, inappropriately domineering, manipulative, unhealthy (the DEFINITION of unhealthy, dear, so it's small wonder your staff used that buzzword fairly frequently with folks, in the pot calling any criticizing kettle black), and just plain psychologically abusive in a much-too-frequent pattern.

So I beg of you. BEG of you. If you have not already, get your shit together. I intend to just let you be in future, and I would appreciate it if you would extend me the same courtesy, starting with not responding to this email. Even though you're out of IV now (for your sake I sincerely thank God for that), I don't need to tell you outright that you had your chance with my friendship; you blew it when you irrevocably broke my trust. Forgiveness always came easy for me, but almost no matter what comes up down the road I will never fully trust you again in this life. The same goes for Gregor and Emma. And there is nothing you can say to me that you can get inside my head ever again. I'm just being honest.

Please, just work on healing any remaining crippling and lies in your mind and soul.

In Christ,

Julian"

[mbtizone]

Veronica Sawyer (Heathers): INFP

Dominant Introverted Feeling [Fi]: What Veronica wants more than anything is to be free of Heather. She doesn’t like being part of her mean tricks or participating in her bullying. Veronica has trouble with anything that’s phony. When the entire school is grieving over the loss of Heather, even though almost everyone hated her, it makes Veronica sick. When she finds out that there will be a spread dedicated to her in the yearbook, Veronica is appalled. She was pissed about the “love-in” that the school organized. Veronica believes in getting justice. She plans to get back at Heather Chandler by mixing milk and orange juice (and attempts to throw in some phlegm, though she’s unable to produce any). She also conspires with JD to get back at Kurt for lying to people about what happened between them on their double date. Although she did want to get revenge, Veronica didn’t want to kill them. She tends to internalize a lot of her feelings and can be self-destructive when trying to deal with them (intentionally burning the palm of her hand, getting in the shower with all of her clothing on in the locker room). Veronica is quite reflective and regularly writes in a journal to get out all of the feelings she suppresses. Veronica doesn’t want to write a note to torment Martha Dunnstock, because she doesn’t have anything against the girl! Although Veronica does comply with Heather’s demands, she has no problem telling her off when she believes it’s necessary. She eventually comes to hate what JD has turned her into and when she feels he’s gone too far, she walks out on him. Even though she’s become popular, Veronica doesn’t forget her former friends, and takes time to have a conversation with Betty Finn, before being pulled away by Heather Chandler (“I was talking to somebody!”

Auxiliary Extroverted Intuition [Ne]: Veronica isn’t satisfied with the way things are, and tends to envision what could be. She dreams of a world without Heather and “just wants her high school to be a nice place.” She wants people to be good to each other and hates being part of a clique that terrorizes social misfits. Veronica is a gifted writer and is able to use her skills to craft “suicide” notes for the classmates she accidentally helps to kill. Veronica is metaphorical and uses vivid analogies, particularly when writing in her diary. She wants change and nothing anybody does is making a difference. Between her call to Hot Probs, and the fact that Heather Duke and the rest of the school were teasing her for it, Veronica knew to run after Heather McNamara, fearing that she might attempt to kill herself. Veronica is able to come up with ideas – such as pretending to commit suicide so JD would think she was dead. Sometimes, she has trouble seeing how things will play out (not realizing JD’s deception, failing to see that killing one popular person will result in another one taking their place, causing an endless cycle). Veronica uses her creativity to do things differently. Sure, we could just have sex on the neighbor’s swing set, but playing strip croquette would be a lot more fun. Even though she’s never forged a suicide note before, the words seem to flow out of Veronica effortlessly and poetically.

Tertiary Introverted Sensing [Si]: Although she does stand up to Heather, Veronica keeps going back to her. She’ll lash out at her one day, and go running back the next. She seems to regret the choices that she’s made that have landed her in her current situation and longs for simpler times. When Veronica begins to struggle with what she’s done, she seeks comfort by reaching out to an old friend – Betty Finn, after ditching her for the Heathers. Veronica pays attention to detail, as she points out that Heather Chandler would never use a word like “myriad” in her suicide note, since she missed it on the vocab test. She also points out that Heather would never drink anything that looked like the liquid drainer.

Inferior Extroverted Thinking [Te]: When Veronica decides she needs to do something to stop JD, she begins a quest to take him down and prevent him from blowing up the school. She sets out to do whatever it takes to stop him, even going so far as to shoot him. Veronica is direct, blunt, and has no problem asserting herself. It’s hard for Veronica to navigate within Westerburg’s established social structure and seeks to fix the problem, although she ends up doing more harm than good in the process by accidentally eliminating multiple classmates. Veronica wants to make a difference and enact real change, but her attempt to push back and rebel against the system gets entirely out of hand (“My teen angst bullshit has a body count.)

Note: I typically see Veronica typed as either an INFJ or an INFP. I don’t think she’s an INFJ, but I strongly considered ISFP for her because she can act impulsively and fails to consider the consequences of her actions. I see her as more future-focused than living in the present. Her solutions to things tend to be less “creative” than JD’s (milk, orange juice, and phlegm cocktail versus liquid drainer). She also says that killing Heather wouldn’t solve anything, instead suggesting to just “grow up, be adults, and die.” She takes what JD says at face value and believes his story about the “Ich Luge” bullets, failing to realize that he’s lying to her about the plan regarding Kurt and Ram. When she berates herself for being stupid, JD suggests that she “believed it because she wanted to believe it.” She denies this, and we don’t really know for certain what the truth is. I’ve seen this movie more times than I can count, and can literally recite every single line, yet I still don’t feel as confident about Veronica’s type as I should. I could probably construct a fairly decent argument for ISFP, but I’m sticking with INFP for now.

Enneagram: 4w5 7w6 8w9 Sx/So

Quotes:

Veronica: Dear Diary, I want to kill. And you have to believe it’s for more than just selfish reasons. More than just a spoke in my menstrual cycle. You have to believe me.

Veronica: Betty Finn was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of swatch dogs and Diet Coke heads. Killing Heather would be like offing the Wicked Witch of the West. Wait, East. West! God, I sound like a fucking psycho. Tomorrow I’ll be kissing her aerobicized ass, but tonight, let me dream of a world without Heather. A world where I am free.

JD: Thank you. That was my first game of strip croquet. Veronica: You’re welcome. It’s a lot more interesting than just flinging off your clothes and boning away on the neighbor’s swing set.

Veronica: What a night. What a life. They wanted to move me into high school out of the sixth grade because I was supposed to be this big genius. And then we decided to chuck the idea because I’d have trouble making friends, blah, blah, blah. Now blah, blah, blah is all I do. I use my grand IQ to decide what color gloss to wear and how to hit three keggers before curfew.

Veronica: Oh, the cops. I can’t believe this is my life. Oh my god. I’m gonna have to send my SAT scores to San Quentin instead of Stanford. JD: All right, just a little freaked here. At least you got what you wanted, you know? Veronica: Got what I wanted? It is one thing to want somebody out of your life. It is another thing to serve them a wakeup cup full of liquid drainer.

JD: All right, we did a murder. Now that’s a crime. But if this were like a suicide thing, you know? Veronica: Like a suicide thing? JD: Yeah. I mean, you can do Heather’s handwriting as well as your own, right? Right? Veronica: You might think what I’ve done is shocking. JD: Um, to me, though, suicide is the natural answer to the myriad of problems life has given me. Veronica: That’s good, but Heather would never use the word myriad. JD: This is the last thing she’ll ever write, she’s gonna wanna cash in on as many 50-cent words as possible. Veronica: Yeah, but she missed myriad on the vocab test two weeks ago. JD: That only proves my point more. The word is a badge for her failures at school. Veronica: Oh. Ok, you’re probably right. People think just because you’re beautiful ad popular life is easy and fun. No one understood, I had feelings too. JD: I die knowing no one knew the real me. Veronica: That’s good. Have you done this before?

Veronica: Can’t you see these programs are eating suicide up with a spoon? They’re making it sound like it’s a cool thing to do.

Veronica: All we want is to be treated like human beings, not to be experimented on like guinea pigs or patronized like bunny rabbits.

Veronica: God, you’re an asshole. Mute him. Heather, how many networks did you run to? What are you talking about? You hated her, she hated you.

Veronica: Ram and I died the day we realized we could never reveal our forbidden love to an uncaring and ununderstanding world. The joy we shared in each other’s arms was greater than any touchdown. Yet we were forced to live the lie of sexist, beer guzzling, jock assholes.

JD: Look, you believed it because you wanted to believe it. Your true feelings were too gross and icky for you to face. Veronica: I did not want them dead! JD: You did too. Veronica: I did not! JD: Did too! Veronica: I did not! JD: Did too! Veronica: I did not! JD: Did too! Veronica: Did not! JD: Did too! Veronica: Did not, did not, did not! Shut up! I did not want them to- JD: Come on, you did, you just- Veronica: Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb!

Veronica: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count. The most popular people in school are dead. Everybody’s sad, but it’s a weird kind of sad. Suicide gave Heather depth, Kurt a soul, Ram a brain. I don’t know what it’s given me, but I’ve got no control over myself when I’m with JD. Are we going to prom or to hell?

Veronica: Hi, I’m sorry. Technically, I did not kill Heather Chandler, but hey, who am I trying to kid, right? I just want my high school to be a nice place. Amen. Did that sound bitchy?

Veronica: That thing this afternoon. I’m so angry! It was chaos, fucking chaos. JD: What are you talking about, huh? I mean, today was great! Chaos is great! Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling. Face it, our way is the way! We scare people into not being assholes! Veronica: Our way is not our way!

[JD shoots the radio] Veronica: That’s it, we’re breaking up! JD: What? But you can’t bring them back, you must know that. Veronica: I am not trying to bring anybody back except maybe myself.

Veronica: And to think there was a time when I actually thought you were cool. Man, if you can’t deal with me now then just stay home and shoot your TV. Blow up a couple toasters or something. Just don’t come to school and don’t mess with me!

Veronica: Heather told everyone about Heather. Yes, Dear Diary, I’ve cut off Heather Chandler’s head and Heather Duke’s head has sprouted back in it’s place. Like some mythological thing my eighth grade boyfriend would have known about. Heather’s even doing the old note trick. I’ve seen JD’s way. I’ve seen Miss Pauline Fleming’s way. And nothing has changed. I guess that’s Heather’s way. And Jesus, what about JD? I can’t get him out of my head.

Veronica: Heather, you’re throwing your life away to become a statistic in the US-fucking-A today. Now that is about the least private thing I can think of. Heather McNamara: What about Heather and Kurt and Ram? Veronica: If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you? Heather McNamara: Probably. Veronica: If you were happy every day of your life you wouldn’t be a human being, you’d be a game show host.

Veronica: Dear Diary, last entry. No one can stop JD. Not the FBI, the CIA, or the PTA. He once told me that the extreme always makes an impression. Well now it’s my turn. Let’s see how the son of a bitch reacts to a suicide he didn’t perform himself!

Veronica Sawyer (Heathers): INFP was originally published on MBTI Zone