#<- yes i am about to stop being a poser and read the actual book i have it open rn

[technovillain]

"old man this" "old man that" whatever. y'all don't fuck w ebenezer scrooge like i do.

[lonelypond]

BETWEEN US

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.6K, 1/1

Summary: Nishikino Maki and Yazawa Nico have many challenges ahead, but they get through them together.

Between Us

Is this what love is? Not a fire that bites painfully but two people laying so close to feel every breath, hands nearly touching, eyes on the brilliant stars opening themselves up suddenly, sure enough to share truths they speak into the night, this solitary space, this private moment between them.

Nishikino Maki spoke first, always the more impatient, curious about Yazawa Nico’s state of mind. “What do you want to do, Nico-chan?”

“Nico wants to show everyone that little and cute can be strong, sexy smart, talented, funny, hard working, successful….I’m tired of how the world treats cute girls like Nico. Nico is a star.” Nico flung her arms out, to encompass the sky. “They should be in awe.”

I am, Maki said to herself, and then thought, why not say it out loud. This was all new, why not be bolder.

“I am.”

Nico squeezed Maki’s hand, a reward for honesty. “What do you want to do, Maki-chan?”

No one said Maki’s name like Nico. It had been Maki’s anchor through the continuing craziness of Muse, Eli’s taskmaster torture, qualifying, Honoka’s collapse, then starting over, right as they discovered these new feelings, a gift from all they’d been through.

“I want to use the Nishikino fortune for new things, good things, to stop propping up out dated ways and awful people. I want to find new ways to help…” Maki was a person of specifics and she had a list. “Girls, gays, empaths, people fighting bigotry, neurodivergents, water protectors,” Maki thought of Rin and giggled, “furries, us, our friends, the world.”

“Maki-chan will do great things.”

“Once I’m 30.”

Nico Yazawa considered. This was so new and 14 years from now, when Maki was a doctor and her trust vested, seemed as distant as the nearest star Nico could see. But Nico knew naming goals was the first step to achieving them, even if it seemed a wild fantasy.

“Nico will be there.” Not flashy, just quiet determination.

Nico heard Maki gulp. She was probably tearing up and couldn’t speak. Nico didn’t really expect her too. Sharing was such a new trust. But Maki’s hand carefully kept precise palm to palm contact with Nico’s. That said everything.

“Marry Nico.”

Maki sighed. “No one can know.”

“Okay.”

YAZAWA NICO FINISHES FIRST INTERNATIONAL TOUR WITH SPRING SPLASH IN HONOLULU

NISHIKINO MAKI BEGINS RONIN YEAR SOLO WORLD TOUR SURFING IN MAUI

Sunrise. Quiet beach. Her own choices. Is this what contentment felt like, Maki wondered. Finally, moments of quiet to listen for the important things. Leaning against her duffle and board, dressed in a striped rash guard, bright lavender board shorts, and a faded denim “You Are On Native Land” cap, Maki stretched, watching the horizon as a lone speck appeared in the distance, jogging toward her, not actually growing much as the distance closed, Maki thought with a private grin. Nico, running in an oversized hoodie and bikini bottom, gasped dramatically, reaching a hand for the water bottle Maki held out as a lure.

“Still running 5Ks every morning?”

“10K when I don’t have a concert or rehearsal. Nico is a boss.”

“Umi would be proud.”

Nico dropped and did ten fast pushups in the sand next to Maki, “Not if Nico told her it was only to make girls swoon.”

“Girls?” Maki arched an eyebrow, hand sweeping through her hair.

“Girl.”

“Fiancee.”

Nico laughed, rolling toward Maki, pulling her down into a playful, sandy kiss. “Ready to upgrade to trophy wife?”

“Yes.”

But there was no hurry that morning. Both had put their other lives on multiple 15 plus hour flights and fallen briefly off the grid to sit side by side on this hidden beach, the tide surging, a rare treasured morning to share.

“Went to the symphony last night. Monica Mancini sang, Henry Mancini’s daughter,” Nico hummed the Pink Panther theme, “Nice voice, more your thing than Nico’s though. She sang a lot of Johnny Mercer. And some new stuff. Nico was taking notes.”

“You’re great on stage Nico-chan, but I guess you can always learn from other performers.”

“Nico is learning songwriting.”

Maki pushed against Nico, “Going to try to get me to put Nico Nico Ni to music again.”

Nico’s mood turned serious, “I miss watching you play.”

“I miss playing.”

“When Nico gets her penthouse, there will be a baby grand.” Nico let her hand settle on Maki’s, “Working with a portable keyboard now. And Umi’s giving me advice, so many books...I’m so busy reading, there’s no time to party.”

“Good.”

“Hey, do you have any plans tomorrow night?”

Nico stared at Maki for a moment, but there was only earnestness in the amethyst staring back, “Not since you got here.”

“I’ve been talking with some of the elders, volunteering on Maui, learning about healing plants, and aloha ‘āina.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s really cool. I’m going to get Papa to invite some of the teachers and doctors I’ve met to give seminars for us. Aloha ‘āina means so many things, but it’s mostly being determined to take care of each other by taking care of the land. It’s very land based and tradition based, here in Hawai’i,” Maki picked up a handful of sand, “but it’s caring and not soft...exactly...when you meet Kai, he’ll explain it better. We’ve been invited for dinner, his uncle plays the ohe hano ihu.”

“What’s that?”

“ A nose flute, not for big concerts, more personal...Kai says his uncle has so many stories about it being used in courting rituals.”

“Is Maki-chan taking notes?”

“Maybe.” Ah, Maki’s sexy, best musician in the world grin. Nico missed that one a lot on the road. A killer cute band was no replacement for the brilliant, lovely pianist who’d so boldly wrapped Nico’s heart in music.

They were in the teasing phase now. “Do you have to keep courting a cute girl after marriage?”

Maki shoved into Nico again, “Well, duh…”

Joint laughter, rolling out to meet the tide.

“We’re getting married.” Maki said quietly.

“Just need to take our passports to pick up the license and go to the shrine. We filled out everything else online.” Nico glanced at her bare legs, “And Nico brought a kimono. Although Maki-chan looks sporty cute just like she is.”

Maki had a far off look, not paying much attention to Nico. Happy to wait ‘til Maki drifted back to the beach, Nico was going to enjoy memorizing her favorite scenery, Maki’s beautifully expressive face, now relaxed and open, thoughts waves and clouds in constant motion. Nico knew the solitude here allowed Maki to relax, there was no family pressure, their phones were off, nothing on either of their schedules for at least the rest of the week. A rare moment to sit with each other, sharing this beauty.

NISHIKINO REAL ESTATE GROUP BUYS LARGE LUXURY TOWER NEAR NISHIKINO MEDICAL CENTER

SUPERSTAR REFUSES TO GIVE UP PENTHOUSE APARTMENT TO NISHIKINO HEIR

Fast food. School girls lingering from Otonokizaka. Two people shoved into the booth furthest from the door and windows, sitting on the same bench, hip to hip, back to the rest of the room.

“So many memories in this place.” Nico unwrapped her burger.

“So many french fries.” Maki dipped a sample french fry in her chocolate milkshake.

“Another meal Nico paid for. You got rich not paying for food.”

“Hey! You were too proud to let me pay.”

“Nico is still too proud.” Nico tapped her fingers on the table. This late afternoon, for this clandestine meeting, they’d allowed themselves the indulgence of wearing their braided gold and platinum wedding band, Maki added the simple diamond Nico had bought her for their engagement.

“Is this going to work? Us actually living this close together without rumors starting?” Maki had been worrying. So many comments in the press and on social media.

“Everyone already has us at war. Nico’s a selfish poser, Maki’s a spoiled brat. Enemies to lovers.”

“Not funny, Nico-chan.”

“Nico will throw a huge party before I leave on my next tour. My new landlord will threaten very publically to throw me out of the building. Everything will flare up, but Maki-chan will continue to do boring future doctor things and by the time Nico gets back, all anyone will be talking about is Nico’s new album.”

“They’re not boring future doctor things.”

“No, they’re smart, saving the world future doctor things and Nico is so proud.” A quick kiss on Maki’s palm.

“Meanwhile…”

“Meanwhile, Umi and Eli install a secret hatch above the decorative staircase centerpiece of your expensively designed main room.”

“I’m going to miss you, Nico-chan.” Sadness.

Time to change the mood. Nico dipped a french fry in her strawberry shake and fed it to Maki. “How’s studying going?”

Maki leaned, chin in hand, frowny. “I could be more motivated.”

“So B?”

“A minus.”

“Nerd.”

“ ‘s dull." Maki said, chewing slowly. "But have to stay on track with the family benchmarks.”

“Yeah.” Nico decided to talk about happier things, “ooohh, did I tell you Eli’s setting up a foundation for Nico as her graduation project. We’ve already donated tickets to queer youth groups in every city on the tour and Nozomi’s setting up mentor programs.”

“Expect a large anonymous donation.”

“Expect a large not so anonymous thank you.”

“I’m just proud that you’re doing things to actually help people. I want to do more.”

“You’re studying to be a doctor, Maki-chan. That’s hard. Nico’s got it easy. All Nico has to do is” Nico went into her signature gesture, “Nico Nico Ni and everything gets brighter.” Nico suddenly remembered she shouldn’t have let her catch phrase out full voice during what was supposed to be a secret meeting, but this was a low traffic period so no one seemed to notice.

“I couldn’t get that out of my head, the first time I saw you do it. It was annoying.”

“But you loved Nico.” Nico snuggled closer, enjoying a chance to feel Maki next to her.

“But I loved Nico, all of Nico, the bold, brash, terrible liar, the kind, caring sister, the determined ally and friend, the hard working and talented performer.”

“Nico wasn’t a liar, Nico was an optimist.”

“Private chef,” Maki cough giggled.

Nico grabbed the french fries as Maki reached for another one, “Confiscated for cheekiness.”

“Give me those.” Maki grabbed, Nico dodged, french fries flew loose and they giggled their way through the next few minutes until Nico leaned forward to whisper in Maki’s ear.

“So are your parents still in New York City?”

Gulping, suddenly completely flustered, Maki nodded.

Nico bounced up, offering a gallant hand, “Nico will walk you home.”

“Fancy.”

“Only the best for Mrs. Yazawa.”

“That would be Mrs. Nishikino.”

“We’ll wrestle. Nico will win.”

“Optimist.”

Nico’s hand on Maki’s waist was a gentle guide into the autumn night, two hats pulled down, two collars pulled up, Nico in a mask to protect her voice. “Wait and see.”

Maki leaned into Nico. This night, unlike too many others recently, felt just right.

HEAD OF THE NISHIKINO MEDICAL GROUP COLLAPSES, HOSPITALIZED

NICO NI NEW YEAR’S CHARITY CONCERT SELLS OUT IN MINUTES

Nico had never been so sick. She’d lost count of the medicines she was taking to sleep at night, and then the additional ones added to get her through tonight’s concert. Then she could rest. Go to her Mama’s house and get babied for a bit. Maki had been so sad at Christmas, with too many family obligations to fly to Los Angeles. Nico had gotten through their Christmas Eve quick chat and then collapsed, barely moving until yesterday’s rehearsal, which wiped her out.

Pounding on her hotel room door. What the hell? Phone pinged, the Maki-tone.

“Open your door, Nico--chan.” Maki sounded angry. Was she pounding? Nico felt even fuzzier, slumping to the door, opening it to fall against a tall, angry Maki, beanie over her hair, sunglasses, and a mask.

“Nico-chan?” Now Maki’s voice sounded tearful.

“Hi, Mrs. Yazawa.” Nico croaked out, hoping to make Maki at least giggle.

Strong arms swept her up, Maki striding across the room, putting Nico gently down on the bed, Maki immediately examining every bottle by Nico’s bedside, “What kind of quack put you on all this?”

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t know? You don’t know.”

“Trainer found ‘em…recommended.”

“You should be in a hospital.” Maki’s voice broke.

“Concert, charity, millions. Nico Nico Ni.” Nico had no idea if what she was saying made sense.

“Cancel. Refund. I’ll make a bigger donation.”

“Nico is a trooper.”

“Nico is a zombie. What the hell kind of irresponsible moron gave you all this?” Maki crashed all the bottles to the floor. “Did they inject you with anything?”

“It’s LA, Maki-chan, the beautiful people never stop.” Nico coughed. It hurt like 50 Umi arrows to the chest, “Nico is a beautiful people.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki was kneeling next to the bed, desperation and weariness lining her face. She’d never travelled well, Nico realized.

Nico managed to flip so she was on her side, managing to smile at Maki, “Hey pretty girl.”

“I am going to sue that quack into despair and destitution.”

Nico blinked, suddenly aware that Maki should be in Tokyo. “Why are you here, Maki-chan?.”

“Hanayo heard a rumor…”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I don’t care.” Maki’s head dropped to the bed, “Papa collapsed...and you’re like this and hiding it from me…and letting some greedy idiot try to kill you...if anything happens to you, Nico-chan…” And the tears, Nico could feel them as she reached for Maki, hot, heavy, rolling off pale cheeks.

“Nico will be fine.”

Maki shook her head.

“Look at me, Maki-chan.”

Maki raised her head. Her eyes were bright. She was always so bright, so caring, her native prickliness a fortification against all the emotions Maki didn’t know how to process.

“I will be fine.”

Maki surged up, her arms drawing in Nico, whose heart was really not rested enough for tackled into bed by the redhead of her dreams. “Maki-chan, you’re going to hug Nico to death.”

“Don’t say that.” Maki’s arm twitched for a minute like she was going to shove Nico away, but then Nico found herself pressed as closely as she’d ever been against a clothed Maki, which would have been amazing if she could breathe. So Nico let a cough out and Maki loosened her hold.

“Let Nico sleep.”

“Okay. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Nico had closed her eyes, muttering, “...love you.”

“I love you too, Nico-chan.”

A-RISE STEPS IN AT LAST MINUTE FOR NICO NI

NISHIKINO MAKI CHECKING OUT STANFORD RESEARCH FACILITIES, POSSIBLE PARTNERSHIP

Nico is officially spoiled. Another morning waking up to Maki curled up by her side...She’d shipped everyone else back to Japan, tour over, a solid break until Nico’s doctor cleared her for rehearsal. Nico sat up, teasing tumbles of red hair, Maki had been very clear that Nico had to clear the steroids out of her system first. But at least Maki hadn’t banned other forms of exercise.

“I’m not asleep, Nico-chan.” Maki mumbled, sounding totally still asleep.

“Thanks for coming to rescue Nico.”

“Don’t make me do it again. I might have to go back to school.”

“I thought you were joining the Board Of Directors ahead of schedule?”

Maki opened her eyes, stretching, “Order pancakes. And bacon. And orange juice. And muffins.”

“Brunch in bed.”

“I’m not leaving until I have to.”

Nico reached down to kiss Maki’s forehead, “It’s been nice having you here.”

“Then come home.”

“Nico is working on it.”

Maki raised an eyebrow. Nico sounded excited. “Is there something I don’t know about?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas surprise, but Nico’s agent was still negotiating.”

What could Nico’s agent be negotiating that would be a Christmas surprise for Maki?

“I’m going be the main character in a TV drama, based in Tokyo.”

“Really?”

“Really. I didn’t get to be there when your Dad ended up in the hospital and I’m so sorry…I knew you needed me, but...this is our life...” Maki nodded as Nico gestured at the hotel suite, continuing, “And I knew you were going to be super busy with family stuff so I pitched an idea and two production companies jumped on board. Nico is taking a paycut and ownership, but all you’ll have to do is come upstairs and Nico will be right there, at least for six months.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki sat up.

Nico put her arm and pulled Maki in, Maki dropping her head to Nico’s shoulder, “We get through the tough stuff together, Maki-chan. We always have. I love you.”

“Love you.” Maki was falling asleep again. Nico would add coffee to their brunch order. Maki had to be awake enough to sneak out and catch a plane.

YAZAWA NICO TO STAR IN DOCTOR SMILE

DOCTOR NISHIKINO MAKI TAKES OVER FAMILY MEDICAL PRACTICE

If she didn’t have Nico, Maki would probably just live with a grand piano, a huge bathtub, and a couch to eat take out on, Nico thought as she sank into lavender scented steaming water.

“It’s not funny, Rin. And I don’t need weekly updates about who Nico’s kissing on the show.” Maki sounded aggravated. Nico giggled. She’d come home early from a weekend meet the fans event and snuck into Maki’s luxury tub to recover. Candles were lit, Idol music popping.

“Wait a minute, Rin. I think…” Maki’s steps sounded hasty and she was suddenly in the door of the bathroom.

Nico winked. “Hi Maki!”

Maki made a grumbly noise and turned sideways, “No, I’m okay, Rin. There’s just a surprise in my bathtub…” Maki glanced at Nico, “Rin says hi. And you have to stop using my cases, Nico-chan.”

“Did Rin say that? And who says Nico does?”

Maki glared, “Where do you even get your information?”

Nico raised a finger to her lips and winked.

“And that red wig. It’s awful. People think you’re making fun of me.” Maki listened to her phone. “Shut up, Rin.” And the phone went in her coat pocket.

“What did Rin say?”

“Nvermind.” Maki muttered.

“Maki-chan…” Nico splashed at Maki.

“No one would ever call me Dr. Smile.”

Nico guffawed, slapping water everywhere. “I miss Rin.”

“If I had Umi’s bow, I wouldn’t.”

“You love her.” Nico leaned back, watching her wife, who had flopped on the nearby chaise. “So who thinks Nico is making fun of you?”

“Papa.”

“PFfffffff…who cares.”

Maki glared, ‘“We’re trying to keep his stress levels low.”

“Red headed doctors are the best.”

“But I like your hair; it looks like you.”

“But our daughter will look like Dr. Smile.”

That threw Maki’s train of thought completely askew. The closest she could get was imagining Cotaro when she first met him with bright red hair.

“I wonder if our children will look like you? All your siblings do.”

“And they’re cute. But our children will be NicoMaki cute. I’ve seen your baby pictures, you were adorable.” Nico leaned back, smiling up at Maki. “Nico can’t wait to have a family to come home to.”

“You have me.”

“And I love it.” Nico blew lavender scented bubbles at Maki, “But you, me, the cutest children ever in the universe, and Christmas morning.”

Maki couldn’t keep the huge grin back. “I can tell them all about Santa-san.”

“But we’re not spoiling them too much.”

Maki pouted at Nico.

Nico giggled, “That’s what our parents will do.”

Maki got up, taking off her coat, sliding out of her jacket, unbuttoning her shirt halfway and slipping out of her pants. Then she sat on the edge of the tub, feet in the water, toes teasing Nico’s legs. “You’re going to tour less, right.”

“Nico’s not touring now. You’re going to cut down your hours, right, Maki-chan.”

“Just started the search for an Executive Director. And put the LGBTQ+ Health Centers proposal on the fast track.”

Nico leaned over, her chin on Maki’s thigh, “We’ve worked really hard for this.”

“We have.”

“I think Mama knows.”

Maki laughed, “It was that morning she surprised us at breakfast, wasn’t it?”

For once, Nico was the one blushing. “Nico needs…” Nico’s arm slipped under Maki’s shirt, a casual touch on Maki’s back, “more elegant pajamas for entertaining company.”

“No you don’t.”

“You like it when Nico borrows your shirt.”

“No, I love it when Nico-chan borrows my shirt.”

“Nico loves your pajamas.” Nico’s fingers started tracing patterns.

“Ha!” Keeping her cool with Nico this close had always been impossible so Maki just lowered herself into the water, pausing for a messy, wet kiss, “Let’s skip dinner.”

NISHIKINO MAKI AND YAZAWA NICO: DETAILS OF THEIR WHIRLWIND COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE

The interviewer leaned forward as Maki ran a hand through her hair. She was relaxed in a light gray Tadashi Shoji corded lace sheath dress, and confidently answered her question, “It was a long day, my eyes were so tired everything was blurry and I got in the wrong elevator. Nico had just gotten pics of the Ayase twins and we started talking about high school.”

“Talking?” Nico snorted, standing behind Maki, hands in the pockets of bright pink Victoria Beckham trousers, the matching blazer falling open, “It was all Nico’s sex appeal. Nico is irresistible.”

Maki leaned her head back, a private smile for Nico, “Nico is irresistible.”

“Is it irresponsible to take so much time off from your responsibilities to take a world tour honeymoon and then start a family?”

Nico chuckled, her hands on Maki’s shoulder, “We’ve planned carefully. And they’re our businesses. Nico never understood people working themselves to death, not taking time for family. We want to change corporate culture.”

“You’ve always been ambitious, Nico. What’s your next project?”

Nico winked, “That’s just between us.”

“No hints for our viewers, Maki?”

Nico leaned down, arms around Maki’s shoulders, whispering something in her ear. Maki’s full, flaring blush could have been a picture from high school. The interviewer laughed.

“Nice to see you two worked out the Penthouse Wars.”

“Nico is a reasonable person.”

Maki threw back her head, laughing, “Sure, that’s why.”

“Well, Nico is certainly a top…”

“Nico-chan!”

“I love you, Maki-chan.” Giggling, Nico kissed her wife’s cheek.

Nico might have been the only one to hear Maki’s muttered, “I love you, Nico-chan.” But it had always been true.

A/N: Another AU Yeah August request, it started out as Married Rivals, but I was reading a Dolly Parton songwriting book and in the songs about love chapter there were these lyrics from "Between Us":

In our love let's share a friendship between us Always close enough to talk things out Let's be honest with ourselves and each other And our love will never know mistrust or doubt

So I just started writing conversations.

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

♫ Surfing on a soundwave, Swinging through the stars, Take a left at your intestine, Take your second right past mars!

On the Magic School smelly space bus! ♫

SPOILERS for Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow #2!

This is a comic where, the longer I sit with a particular issue, the more I’m like, ‘yeah. Yeah. YEAH.’

It’s dense in a way that invites the reader to go through it multiple times, and rewards additional readthroughs.

Also, it helps that the art is FREAKING AMAZING.

Seriously. Evely and Lopes should draw and color everything, forever, always.

(I will honestly be shocked if they don’t get an Eisner nom for this book.)

Anyways, all of this to say: Another issue that I enjoyed. It has one of the most genuinely sweet Supergirl moments I’ve seen in the comics in a good long while.

So, if you’re looking for a quick thumbs up/thumbs down rating, thumbs up!

If you’d like some SPECIFICS, though...

THE STORY

King is an evil genius because we don’t pick up where we left off--rather, we start in the midst of the Space Bus journey.

There is technically a Big Action Scene, but I was honestly surprised by how...casually? the story progressed.

Essentially: Kara and Ruthye are forced to travel by bus because 1.) Krem stole Kara’s rocket and 2.) this corner of the universe doesn’t have the right stars, so Kara’s still recovering from being under a red sun for an extended period of time.

The bus makes occasional stops; they encounter a space dragon; Kara takes some Red Kryptonite and saves the day; they eventually arrive on a planet with a yellow sun. 

And again, all of this occurs with a kind of...breezy ease that I was not expecting at all.

I assumed that the space dragon fight would make up the final moments of the issue, after having built up the problem to a point where Kara needed to intervene.

But, noooope. The space dragon happens somewhere in the middle, which helps sell the central idea that this is simply Kara’s life. She’s been there, done that. She’s a badass who takes it all in stride.

But! Important to note! Ruthye still marvels at the sight of Kara taking out the space dragon, as well she should, because:

OH MY GOD. THE aRT.

There’s only so many times I can say, ‘it’s phenomenal, it’s gorgeous, it’s stunning’ before sounding like a broken record.

But it is. It truly is. This is the prettiest monthly book on the stands right now.

(Realizing I’ve been spelling Ruthye wrong this entire time, maybe? IDK. Apologies if I have.)

It’s in the final moments of the book that we learn what transpired after Krem shot Kara and Krypto and fled: Kara managed to get Krypto and Ruthye to a healer, and then passed out for a week. 

Ruthye and Kara recovered, buuuuut...

Krypto is still very near death because the arrow was poisoned.

The healer can’t treat him until he has a sample of the poison.

Which Krem has.

(See where this is going?)

So! Kara regains her powers! Ruthye has a super on her side! KRYPTO’S LIFE HANGS IN THE BALANCE!

Gimme. Issue. 3. STAT.

THE CHARACTERS

Very much enjoyed Ruthye in this issue!

There’s a really tricky balancing act you gotta pull off when writing child characters; you don’t want to just write them as tiny adults, but you also don’t want to be obnoxious or cloying in trying to write ‘true-to-age.’

King gives himself a bit of a cheat, by setting her up as a rock farmer from a...what would you call it. An old-fashioned planet? And thus the kind of character who had to ‘grow up fast’ and behaves more maturely than your typical pre-teen might.

BUT! IMPORTANTLY! This is tempered by placing Ruthye in situations where her (understandable) ignorance is challenged/put to the test. Like, yes, she is mature, and well-spoken, and utterly tenacious, but she’s also out of her depth, and still in need of help and guidance.

(Which is how we get to The Best Scene which I’ll get to in just a sec.)

TL;DR - this issue has really sold me on Ruthye as our POV character and I am officially Invested in the relationship between her and Kara.

Speaking of...

It’s KARA-CTERIZATION TIME!

So, okay. There’s some ‘eh’ stuff in this one, but, BUT!

We got the goods again.

And by ‘goods’ I mean this:

Whatever other nitpicks I have (and I do! Have one! Which I’ll get to!) THIS. This right here! This is Supergirl. This is Kara.

And what a beautiful line to introduce this moment:

“And it began--as most things begin when you’re dealing with Supergirl--with a moment of kindness.”

It’s the same gentle concern we saw in the previous issue, where Kara knelt down to address Ruthye eye-to-eye. 

Here, Kara’s facial expression, and the way she takes Ruthye’s hands and shows her what to do...

It’s just. SO SWEET.

Ahhhhh it’s so good. :D

So good! In fact! That the above scene offsets my one complaint, which is that Kara came off as harsh, IMO, when addressing the bus passengers, looking for Red K. 

Other good stuff from this particular portion of the book: we get Kryptonese (maybe? I think?) And a mention of Kara’s mother being strict about certain things, which is in keeping with the 2000s series version of Alura.

Ruthye also asks if Kara ever tried to avenge the death of her family/culture and she says no; Ruthye says that she heard a lifetime of regret in Kara’s response, which I suppose could be read one of two ways:

1.) That she regrets her choice not to avenge them, or 2.) that she regrets not having the option to avenge them, as there was no one person to punch, no single action that could rectify the destruction of the entire planet.

I personally prefer the second reading.

Which I suppose contradicts the recent-ish “Killers of Krypton” arc, but who knows what is and isn’t canon anymore, honestly. XD

As for the rest of the issue! I found myself thinking of a Grant Morrison interview, actually.

Morrison apparently met a Superman cosplayer at a con and that’s when the character clicked for them: “[The superman cosplayer] was so in the character, but what really got me was the way he was sitting. It was this absolutely relaxed pose with one knee up and the arm bent over, and that’s what broke Superman for me. Suddenly I realized that Superman wouldn’t be a poser, he wouldn’t be a Muscle Beach steroid guy; he’d actually be completely relaxed because nothing could hurt him. He could be so open and friendly to everyone because no one can punch him or hurt him. He can’t get a cold, or be damaged by anything you’re carrying or wearing. For me that was the power of that, whether you want to frame it as magical or not, it actually informed the stories I wanted to write. I felt I understood him in a way I hadn’t until that moment.”

That’s always stuck with me, the idea that Clark would be the most at-ease, chill guy you'd ever talk to.

And THAT, I think, is what we’re seeing here with Kara. That at-ease-ness.

But in a way that is distinct from Clark! In the above quote, it’s clear that Morrison thinks it’s Clark’s powers that are the reason he can be so relaxed and at ease.

But Kara is de-powered here. So why is she so chill?

Because Kara is an alien.

Kara’s in her element, here. She’s used to space travel, she knows the ins-and-outs, she’s not shocked by any of the weird stuff they encounter on their journey. 

Love it. LOVE. IT.

I am SO GLAD that King decided to go with Kara being the wizened mentor, as opposed to the naïve kid learning to be tough. It’s a much more interesting angle, IMO.

Also NO MENTION OF RIVALRY BETWEEN KARA AND CLARK. WOO. LET’S KEEP THIS ROLLIN’.

Alright, last, but certainly not least:

THE GOOD BOY! KRYPTO!

When I tell you I stress-read this entire comic first thing in the morning...XD

And I am STILL stressed. And a little sad that Krypto doesn’t get to go on another space adventure but! This is MIGHTY PREFERABLE to what I *thought* was going to happen, which is that Krypto would die from his injuries, and Kara would likewise be out for revenge. 

Fortunately, that is not the case! 

So like, the stakes?!?! Suddenly sky high. Find that dirtbag Krem and GET THAT POISON BACK TO THE HEALER!!

ART and MISC. STUFF THAT I LOVE

I generally don’t like to post entire pages of a comic, or panels without context, but the...reach? of this blog is extremely limited so. I think we’ll be okay. XD

So, alright! Some moments that I particularly enjoyed!

One of the panels that Mat Lopes shared early on! 

I want this lettered version on a mug.

(Also she looks very ’Grace Kelly-ish’ here.)

Love Kara’s facial expression and her line about space travel being more fun when you can fly.

From the same portion of the book--such a neat detail that Kara keeps her cash in her sleeve!

Another set of panels that I think Tom King shared a few months back.

Love Kara’s little smirk, and the, “I’m wearing a big yellow S on my chest, and a very fashionable red skirt.”

It IS fashionable. WE SUPPORT THE SKIRT, IN THIS HOUSE.

Also the slrrrrrrp. XD

It’s good.

Okay, 1.) VERY COOL SCI-FI DESIGN and 2.) that line is great. “Can you feel it, Ruthye? We’re getting closer. The stars are changing.”

Mmmm, them good cosmic Kara vibes.

Kara’s attitude about the Red K here is fun, like, ‘WELP, sometimes you turn into a monster, sometimes you don’t!’ but again, the line is what gets me.

“Did my hair move?”

“I do not believe so.”

XD

Honestly? I could post the whole comic here. Evely’s vision of ‘public transit, but space’ is just so immediately...not ‘real’, necessarily, because there’s such a fantastical element to it all, but it is fully realized. I think I used the phrase ‘lived-in’ and that’s it--this world feels like it has always existed; every grimy nook and cranny, every rando space bus traveler.

And Mat Lopes’ colors!

There are like, five distinct color palettes at work in this issue, and Lopes handles them all masterfully.

I think my favorite is the...I’ll call it ‘ethereal space aquarium’ lighting in the bus as they view the space dragon.

The glow and the shadows and the blues and pinks...

GGGGGGGGAAAHHHHHHHHHH so goooooooood

So, yeah. :D

I am very much enjoying this weird, wild ride with small, precocious Ruthye and wizened, crusty Kara. XD There’s some stuff that I don’t *love* but my goodness, it could be a lot worse!

Let us end on the beautiful title page:

[vergess]

#ppl dont go to malls and be weird bc you cant

#there are shootings at malls often

#or security guards tell you to stop

#how am i supposed to raise a bed of flowers while living in an apartment#i cant afford a home with land

#people do too read books just bc they arent gross old classics doesnt meant they arent reading

#why do you get to call people a poser just for enjoying things

#they arent fake and no one should be judging others#this is just rewrittwn cringe culture

#ppl can enjoy things without giving their whole life to it#flowers are pretty but that doesnt mean i need to know how to grow them#nor do i have to

#liking aesthetics doesnt mean you have to actually live it

#its just for fun

(via @dollydancer)

See also:

More people are reading more now than at any time in human history.

Mandated poverty and isolation in the west prevents self sufficiency by gatekeeping the tools, skills, and most importantly communities needed behind extreme costs.

Western society is safer from random individuals committing violent crime than ever before, but people insist on public conformity because of increased fear of violence, which of course, enables an increase in state-sanctioned violence.

Yes, it's intensely frustrating when people are hypocritical about their aesthetics vs their actions (eg, my personal peeve is people who are ~proudly gay~ while being violently hateful of any other types of queerness). But that hypocrisy is not the same as ~faking an aesthetic for attention~.

The instagram effect is real, but what it really does is make people more depressed about all the ways they are prevented from acting on their interests.

Which, of course, makes them more willing to spend their limited money (there's that enforced poverty again) on things that have a chance of briefly ameliorating that depression since real solutions are kept out of reach.

And yes, I'm obviously taking this post too seriously, but only because it touches upon and then bounces right off of a genuinely very serious phenomenon.

i think it is very depressing that like every aesthetic people try to emulate are of people doing things but they themselves are incapable of being somebody that does things… the mall goth 2005 aesthetic revived in 2022 but nobody goes to the mall to be annoying and weird and nobody lets themselves be cringe… the cottagecore aesthetic but nobody knows how to raise gardens or live self sufficiently … the dark academia aesthetic but nobody actually reads books…. The obsession of looking like you are a type of person who does something without actually doing anything … the Instagram effect

[danwetzelsports]

In lieu of the above video (courtesy of @nickkrause08) showing the friendly skies turning into fight club – not to mention all the other airline incidents of late – I am updating my recent post/rant on the worst people you’ll meet on your flight.

  Hint: it isn’t the flight attendants, TSA agents or that overstressed/underpaid woman working the gate.

  As noted in the first post, flying can be stressful and disappointing. I get it. I’ve flown over one million miles on Delta/Northwest alone and probably hundreds of thousands on other airlines. I’ve been to airports big and small, in airplanes big and small and seated next to passengers big and small. I’ve been stranded, abandoned and slept one night in a chair inside the Minneapolis airport. Whatever horror story you have, there’s a good chance I can match it.

  Still, come on people. We have an actual brawl on an airplane? This is the discount flight from Burbank, not the prison yard. If someone disrespects you, chill. In fact, always chill. Your flight will go better. And sleep. And shut up. The other passengers don’t want to talk to you. Trust me.

  Somehow the public momentum is to defend the customers and blame everything on the airlines. No, it’s usually us, the passengers.

  Remember the woman whose baby almost got bumped because the flight attendant was trying to remove a doublewide stroller she wanted to bring down the aisle? Could have been handled better but … why the hell were you trying to bring a doublewide stroller onto a plane when it clearly and always is prohibited?

  How about the woman who went to the media because flight attendants wouldn’t let her go to the bathroom while the fasten seat belt light was on and instead handed her a cup? Pretty funny story, but there is a reason why they have a fasten seatbelt light. It isn’t safe to wander around the plane. You can disagree with their judgment – there are many policies on board that make no sense. That’s still the deal. It’s probably a federal law. This isn’t your living room. You want full control of your actions? The interstate is right over there.

  And yes, getting bumped from flights happens but the practice of overselling planes is good for customers, because it helps lower costs and allows more people each day to book flights.

  Airline travel is amazing – amazingly safe, amazingly convenient and amazingly cheap. Perfect. Not at all. Anyone who expects perfect, let alone on a $119 supersaver, is a fool.

  So here are my updated and now expanded nine worst people on a plane (in no particular order). And I’m not even getting to the obvious ones such as belligerent drunks or the would-be UFC brawlers in the video or the barking dogs – no dogs other than guide dogs should be allowed in the damn main cabin, by the way. Give me a break with the “comfort pet.”

  1. Starbucks Lady

  It’s a 6:30 a.m. cross-country flight and you felt the need to get a Venti double Frappuccino or whatever that creation is? Not only are you going to spend the first hour of the flight sucking loudly through a straw, but that creation has enough caffeine and sugar to drop a horse. Look lady, no one is asking you to fly the plane. Exactly how alert do you need to be?

  You want to know how to make air travel better? Go to sleep. Flight goes faster, you don’t need to be entertained, you can ignore the other passengers and you catch up on some rest (fitful, but whatever). Don’t tell me you can’t sleep on planes between a gargle of Starbucks. You have to have a plan – turn off electronics, read a book, avoid stimulants. It isn’t hard. I feel for like 6-foot-10 guys, but you aren’t that.

  Don’t book a window seat, drink a massive coffee and then wonder why you are as fidgety as a kindergartener, unable to sleep and have to get up three times to go to the bathroom – thus bothering the rest of us.

  2. Big bag guy

  It ain’t going to fit, buddy. Maybe it’s compensating for other parts of their life. Maybe they just really think they are going to get over on the airline for that $25 baggage fee. Whatever it is, that massive roller isn’t getting into the tiny overheard compartment.

  These guys are the worst. They push and slam and bitch and moan. The people already seated below them are panicked and jostled. Some properly sized bag is inevitably getting crushed up there.

  The guy gets angrier and angrier as he tries to defy the laws of physical space. Soon he’s regaling everyone about that time the airline lost his luggage in Albuquerque – cry me a river, we’re not on your side.

  Then the poor flight attendant has to come by and tell him he needs to check it (for free) and he gets mad at them. Everyone’s stress goes up. Look, pay the fee or pack less. It’s simple. How much crap you need for this weekend in Erie?

  The baggage fee thing is horrible but they have to do it because all you fools will only pay for the cheapest flight that comes up on Expedia. Then you complain when the flight isn’t luxurious like it supposedly used to in the Mad Men days or something. It’s like someone buying a Chevy Spark and then bitching it isn’t as roomy as a Cadillac Escalade.

  3. Idiot/Patriot in the TSA line

  You know these people are there to stop us from getting blown up, right? Imperfect system but it’s the best we’ve got. No matter what you think, TSA agents want to get rid of you as quickly as possible. They are trying to be professional under impossible circumstances.

  So, can you please pay attention? September 11 was over a decade and a half ago … the freakin’ laptop has to come out of the bag. Yes, a cell phone is a metal item. And actually I am not surprised that your oversized belt buckle caused the x-ray to ping. It’s not shocking at all.

  This isn’t that hard. Follow the stupid rules. You’re slowing up the line because you are a clown.

  The only people worse are the ones who believe the TSA is infringing on their Constitutional rights with that there new-fangled body scanner or a pat down or merely existing. What, you think I’m a terrorist? If you’re that into your privacy, then cool. Just find a better way to get the woods of Idaho.

  Twitter follower @FakeKevinKugler added a subset to this: the person who was sent to TSA PreCheck but decides to clog everything up by stripping down anyway. You undeservedly reached the promised land and this is how you act? Pay attention.

  (Then again, TSA PreCheck should not just be handed out randomly like it is these days. Change that rule, TSA.)

  4. Burrito Bowl Dude

  Tight connections and long trips can mean there is limited time to get a meal at the airport. And we know you aren’t getting anything substantive in coach. So people bring food on the plane.

Here’s a tip. Maybe on those days, you just have a protein bar. Or eat right away as you wait for everyone else to board. Not these people. They have to bring an elaborate, often sloppy meal, let it sit in a bag for an hour stinking up the place and then pull it out and try to spread out.

  There’s usually some assembly required, some salsa to pour over, some Sriracha or salad dressing. Then a knife and fork come out. You need the dexterity of Houdini to eat this thing in such a small space so rice or lettuce is inevitably flying everywhere and chicken is spilling and it’s a massive mess.

  You’re bothering me now. I don’t care if it’s good.

  5. Drink Cart Enthusiast

  They need to get rid of the drink cart on all flights under like two hours. It’s a rolling debacle. If you are so desperate for hydration or a tiny snack then buy your own.

  Yet they pull that thing out and people act like dogs that just saw their master walk in with the treat jar.

  You’ve never had a Diet Coke before? A package of five to six pretzels? I have had people wake me up to let me know the drink cart is here so I wouldn’t miss out.

  The drink cart blocks the aisle, slams knees and elbows and generally only gives the customers something else to bitch about because they didn’t get the whole can or found the peanuts an unsatisfying meal. You know, back in the day they used to carve up steak. Yeah, well, back in the day flights cost a thousand bucks and planes crashed all the time.

  I once had a 37-minute flight to Indianapolis delayed for 1:45 because “catering” needed to restock the drink cart. That means we could have flown to Indy, deplaned, slammed a beer at the airport bar, reboarded and returned.

  6. Maintenance Know-It-All Guy

  I’m as suspicious as anyone when they announce that the flight is being delayed for maintenance because I assume they use that excuse to cut down on complaints. You know why? Because it works.

  Or it should except for the guy standing in the gate area who immediately starts huffing and arguing that there is no maintenance issue and it’s a big conspiracy. Really, how exactly do you know? Congrats to you if you truly are so proficient in diagnosing a $300 million airplane that you don’t even have to look at it to draw your conclusion. If you really enjoy such a skillset, however, maybe you should make a career out of that rather than schlepping to Des Moines with the rest of us. Seems like something that would pay well.

  You don’t want them to check and make sure the plane is working properly? You’re troubled by an airline that demands all the parts and emergency back-ups are working.

  You do realize what the alternative is, correct? If you think you’re late for your cousin’s wedding weekend now …

  7. Delusions of Grandeur in 38B

  Many Twitter followers mentioned this one. You’re way in the back of the plane yet somehow believe once the plane arrives at its destination and pulls up to the skybridge that you’ll somehow beat the crowd and race off the plane first. I get the desperation to make a connecting flight, but it isn’t happening. Usain Bolt couldn’t charge the aisle fast enough to make it. Accept reality and wait your turn.

  8. Frequent flyer poser

  Submitted by Twitter follower @BoneilHoops is: “The guy that tells you how much he travels – has Gold Medallion bag tag.”

  Ah yes, the “sort-of” frequent flyer who loves to yell at the gate agent or flight attendant about how much of a valued customer they are when, well, they really aren’t that valued of a customer. They gave George Clooney in the movie his own number to call for a reason. They gave you an easily identifiable bag tag and you may have gotten that by falling for their credit card deal, not actually flying.

  I once heard a guy complaining to a gate agent about not getting an upgrade and asked what he needed to do to get upgraded to first class. This was on a flight to Europe no less. The woman calmly said, “fly our airline more.” Classic. 

9. Boarding Group Z Gate Blockers

  More Twitter recommendations: apparently these people, who crowd around and block the boarding gate even though their group isn’t getting called for awhile, are referred to as “gate lice.” I had no idea, but it works.

  They have a process to get on the plane. The Diamond Medallion and First Class people go first. Deal with it. If you find yourself in Group 7 or whatever, get the hell out of the way. Standing in front of the little ropes that lead to the ticket scanning machine when you aren’t getting on for the next 20 minutes assures only one thing, it will take even longer to get on.

  This is a partial list. In summary, as much as I sometimes hate airline bureaucracy, I hate you people even more – not enough to have a fist fight in row 18 over it, but still.

[the-plxce-to-be-archived-blog]

September 1st, 2017. The boy sighed, slowly walking through his high school halls headed toward the cafeteria as he wrote page after page in his journal, getting it all off his chest. Every feeling, thought, frustration, just like he was taught. Dear journal; I believe I’m a good person. Y’know, I think there’s good in everyone. But here we are, first day of senior year! I look around at these kids I’ve known all my life and I ask myself; what happened?

The boy - Philip - jerked his head up as he heard shouting and swears, pressing his back to the lockers just as some asshole jocks stormed by, not even noticing him.

He scowled, listing the insults he’s heard over the years from everyone to each other as he continued to write in his journal. Freak, slut, burnout, bug-eyes, poser, lard-ass!

We were so tiny, happy and shiny, playing tag and getting chased! Freak, slut, loser, shortbus! Singing and clapping, laughing and napping, baking cookies, eating paste. Bull-dyke, stuck-up, hunchback! Philip continued on his way to the cafeteria, carefully dodging the students around him.

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger, like the Huns invading Rome- He bumped into someone briefly, jumping and moving around them as he said a quick, “Sorry!” He quickly carried on his way, biting his lip as he wrote vigorously. Welcome to my school, this ain’t no high school; this is the Thunderdome! 

Hold your breath and count the days, we’re graduating soon. White trash! College will be paradise if I’m not dead by June! But I know, I know life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again, we can be beautiful...

Philip stopped to see a jock shove another kid down to the ground, furrowing his brows as he added to his words, just not today before stepping over and offering the other a hand - the boy he recognized as John Payne Todd, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Get away, nerd!” He huffed, smacking his hand away and getting up, fixing his shirt and going on his way. Philip just cringed and went into the cafeteria, balancing his book more on his upper arm as he picked up and held a tray with one hand. Freak, slut, cripple, homo, homo, homo!!

Philip sighed, writing as he went down the line slowly, letting the lunch lady put some frankly gross looking food on his plate and he took an apple to put on his tray before getting to the end of the line, slowly walking through the crowd of students to get to his table in the back.

Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma, then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls and smoky French cafes. 

Philip stopped as he bumped into a bigger boy, making his way around him and ignoring his hiss of, “Watch it!”

Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze! Then suddenly his lunch tray was hitting the ground. He looked up with a frown as the older boy spoke in a patronizing tone, “Ooops!” He stared blankly at the other boy before writing more in his journal and reading it aloud, “Sahil Lee; third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick!”

Suddenly Sahil was right up in his face and the boy’s eyes widened as he backed up slowly. “What did you say to me, fag?” Philip swallowed and backed up, holding a hand up. “Uh, nothing!”

He was silent then, waiting until Sahil nodded in satisfaction and walked away before he sighed and picked up his apple before sighing as he looked at the mess between his unopened soda, his apple, the tray and the container of pudding among other things. But I know, I know, I know.. Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, I pray for a better way. We were kind before, we can be kind once more. We can be beautiful...

Suddenly there was a tapping on his shoulder and Philip screeched, jumping and turning to look with wide-eyes at his friend. “Ah! Hey, Lucky!”

“Hey!” Philip grinned at her as Lucinda and he both crouched down and she helped him pick up his tray and the scattered items from it. When they were stood back up, the boy pressed his pen to the page while she looked at him in confusion.

“Lucinda Laurens: My best friend since diapers.” She giggled and smiled softly, tilting her head as they grinned at each other. “We on for movie night?”

Philip beamed and nodded quickly, “Yeah, you’re on Jiffy Pop detail!” He said excitedly and Lucinda laughed again. “I rented The Princess Bride.” She said and he laughed as he spoke, “Again? Don’t you have it memorized by now?” She flushed a bit and grinned, shrugging. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending.”

Suddenly a louder voice interrupted them, a tall woman walking over and smacking Lucinda’s lunch tray out of her hands. “Lucky Lame-ass! Ha!” She smirked, so proud of her stupid insults. Philip scowled, jotting down a few quick words,

Safia Lee: Quarterback. She’s the smartest gal on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

Then Philip stepped up to Safia, huffing and pointed at the angered Lucinda’s lunch try on the ground. “Hey! Pick that up! Right now!” Safia simply raised her eyebrow at Philip, far from amused by his attitude. “I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?”

Philip snarled, jabbing her in the shoulder with his finger as he spoke, “Yes I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend. You’re a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant!”

Silence followed before she snorted and flicked Philip’s forehead, “You have a zit right there.”

High schoolers could be such children; that was easily told by the fit of laughter that passed over the cafeteria at Safia’s comment. Philip’s face flushed as he crouched down and picked up Lucinda’s tray for her, before he balanced his own tray on one hand again and began writing once more.

Dear journal... Why? Why do they hate me? Why don’t I fight back? Why do I act like such a creep? Why? Why won’t he date me? Why did I hit him? Why do I cry myself to sleep? Somebody hug me, somebody fix me, somebody save me!

Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope here! Something to live for!

Silence swept through the cafeteria and Philip looked up and cringed to see the three students enter. Oh no.

Jefferson, Jefferson and Jefferson.

He pressed his pen to the page. And then there’s the Jeffersons. They float above it all. Some students talked about how much they loved the three girls as Philip wrote.

Lucy Jefferson. Head cheerleader. Her dad’s loaded, he sells engagement rings! Some students talked about their hatred of the Jeffersons. Mary Jefferson. Runs the yearbook. No discernible personality, but her mom did pay for implants. Some whispered of their lust for the Jeffersons. And Martha Jefferson. The almighty.

The whispers continued as the three girls strolled in, easily getting to the front of the front line as Philip watched in disgust. She is a mythic bitch. They are solid Teflon - never bothered, never... Harassed. I would give anything to be like that. He sighed, noting what certain people whispered.

John Payne Todd would like to be their boyfriend. That would be beautiful...

If Anastasie Lafayette sat at their table, guys would notice her. So beautiful...

Lucinda simply wishes they were nicer. That would be beautiful...

Lewis Fredrick... Needs therapy. He’d like to kidnap a Jefferson and photograph her naked in an abandoned warehouse and leave her tied up for the rats...

What?!

Fifteen minutes later, Philip went into the bathrooms - unisex, thankfully, so no one had issues - and paused to see Lucy and Martha watch Mary throw up in a stall, both standing outside of it as they bickered, Martha huffing, “Grow up, Mary, bulimia is so ‘87.” Lucy cringed, speaking as well, “Maybe you should see a doctor, Mary.”

“Yeah, Lucy, maybe I should...” He furrowed his brows, stepping aside as their teacher, Mr. Washington stepped in to find his missing students. “Ah, Martha, Lucy.” The sound of Mary vomiting echoed again and Philip almost gagged. “... And Mary. Perhaps you three didn’t hear the bell over all the vomiting, but you’re late for class.”

That’s it.

Philip pulled out a piece of paper from his bag, scribbling quickly on it before nudging Mr. Washington. “Actually, Mr. Washington, all four of us are out on a hall pass. Yearbook committee...” He trailed off as their teacher took the paper and read it over. “.. I see you’re all listed. Hurry up and get where you’re going.” He stated before giving Philip the paper back and leaving the room.

Frowning, Martha stomped over and took the paper, reading over it. “This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?” Philip swallowed and in a moment of nervousness, he saluted Martha as he stood up straight. “Uh- Philip! Hamilton!... I crave a boon.”

“What boon?”

“Um- Let me sit at your table at lunch. Just once. No talking necessary. If people think you guys tolerate me, they’ll leave me alone...” As Martha opened her mouth, Philip suddenly spoke up, “Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes.” Hesitantly, Mary spoke up, “What about prescriptions?”

Martha smacked her sister’s arm lightly as she stood beside her, wiping her mouth with some toilet paper. “Shut up, Mary.”

“Sorry, Martha.”

Suddenly Martha took the shorter boy’s face in her hand, turning him side to side as she inspected the nervous kid’s face. “Hm... For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure.” Lucy tilted her head, inspecting her as well. “And a symmetrical face. If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I’d have matching halves. That’s very important.” Then Mary spoke up with a huff, “Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds.”

Then Martha smirked slightly and released his face as she spoke, “And you know, you know, you know? This could be beautiful. Foundation? Maybe some lip gloss and we’re on our way.” That honestly didn’t sound so bad, a light blush dusting his cheeks as the girls consulted it, “Get this boy some blush, and Lucy, I need your brush. Let’s make him beautiful.”

“Let’s make him beautiful.” Lucy confirmed, handing Martha her brush. “Let’s make him beautiful.” Mary repeated. handing her the makeup. 

“Make him beautiful... Okay?” Martha suddenly asked, looking serous at him, and Philip was surprised she even asked for his consent with it, but he smiled a little and nodded quickly. “Okay!”

The next day, chaos reigned in the halls as per usual; Sahil and Safia pushing around Lewis as they threatened him, “Out of my way, geek!”

“I don’t want trouble-”

“You’re gonna die at 3 PM!” Sahil hissed, shoving Lewis back into the girls and Henriette Lafayette and Ciara Mulligan both screeched separately, “Don’t you dare touch me!” Henriette huffed as Ciara pushed him away. “Get away pervert!”

Lewis groaned, looking toward the ceiling in dismay. “What did I ever do to them?!”

“Who could survive this? I can’t escape this! I think I’m dying!”

Then one of the girls called, “Who’s that with Martha?!”

They all looked to see the Jeffersons slowly walking in, basking in the attention with someone hidden behind them.

“Whoa. Martha, Mary, Lucy..." Some students said as Ciara added, “And... Someone!”

They continued whispering their names in shock as Ardan Mulligan and Theodosia Burr said, “And a hottie...?”

The whispering continued, then Lucinda broke up the whispering with a loud gasp, “Philip?!”

The whispers continued as Philip moved to walk beside the Jeffersons nervously, his little blemishes covered and his hair tamed and tied back behind his head, his clothes obviously brand new; a nice suit that fit him perfectly.

He smiled a bit at the sudden shock and obvious acceptance of everyone; no one daring to mess with him as he stood beside them. “And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray and you get your way!” He puffed his chest out slightly, taking a deep breath in pure excitement as he spoke.

“Ask me how it feels looking like hell on wheels... My god, it’s beautiful!” Some girls gasped and swooned at the sight of him and his eyes widened, a grin taking over his face as the Jeffersons smirked, glancing in her direction. “I might be beautiful... And when you’re beautiful, it’s a beautiful frickin’ day!”

Martha, Mary, Lucy, and Philip.

Philip, Philip, Philip, Philip!

[localkitsune]

The Universe Is Weird

I always wondered if there’s any point to the way the universe moves. I guess we can call it purpose or god if you want. Everything moves chaotically but some days I sit on the window sill of my one bedroom apartment in the City and I ask if there’s a reason behind why everything moves like a symphony. Are there reasons to why we meet strangers who eventually come to change our lives? Is there a reason to why we go through shitty childhoods? Is there a meaning to this chaos?

I walk to my job at a local comic book store everyday, it’s about a mile away from where I live. It’s by the waterfront in the quieter part of this concrete jungle. Usually hearing the sounds of fighting cars competing for a better spot in the middle of city traffic. I see the crowds of men and women moving about their lives together like a flock of birds, even though I know they will eventually go about their separate ways. I taste the smog in the air like dew on the patches of grass in front of the local cafe. 

I get lost in the routine myself, I am part of that flock of birds all rushing across this paved paradise to get to a job we really didn’t want to go in to that day. Yes, I love comic books but that doesn’t stop me from wishing I didn’t have to go in at ten o’ clock in the morning to organize books and stock shelves. Usually my Sunday nights are spent getting mom drunk off of a bottle or two of Moscato Sangria (it’s cheap and sweet wine), so waking up Monday morning is a task in itself. I’d ask myself why I didn’t die in my sleep like a good millennial should, but I’ve been trying my best to live a more positive life. That means doing my best to not say “I want to die” at every little inconvenience. I pat myself on the back but that’s neither here nor there. 

I tend to see a lot of people come into our store --- even though it is on the outskirts of the city. We have a good selection, thanks to my ass. I’m always reading new and weird books so I got the “good stuff” as I’ve been told by a few newcomers when they tell me what brought them to my little comic book store of horrors. I’m usually always questioned about my knowledge about whatever superhero I’m wearing on my shirt that day. “Do you really know ANYTHING about DEADPOOL?” because I must be some poser who’s trying to get the attention of all those cute boys that come into my comic book store. Yes, because I want a boy who walks around with a ketchup stain on his shirt every time he comes into the store. I usually like to give them a false sense of superiority till I kick the pedestal from under them and choke slam their frail egos with my expansive knowledge on my love, Deadpool. I’ve been called a bitch, a slut, and lost some of their business but my manager usually high fives me in front of them and says “fuck them”. At least the good yelp reviews outshine the bad ones. Apart from those crap customers, a lot of the community is goodhearted. It bothers me that the minority of this community is what gives it such a bad look, and it’s only because they are the most vocal.

What led me to work at the store? I wasn’t much of a reader when I started working there. They needed staff and I was jobless, I had been for quite sometime at that point (my mom was ready to kick me out the house back then). So I walked into this run down fixer-uper of a spot and got the job. I was 20 back then and I was a college drop-out. I just wanted a job till I got that major writing gig at some big shot news website in the city. I didn’t see myself at this store for very long but that was 6 years ago, and I’m still running my small tumblr with about 200 followers and no major writing gig. 

I’m not discontent though because I guess you can say that I’m actually enjoy the space I’m at in life --- I don’t mean my apartment (that place is horrid), I mean I enjoy the experiences I’m having at this store. I learned a lot from everyone who walks in here, even the shit heads. I made a fuckton of friends, and I meet a lot of up and coming talent within the comic book community. It’s been weirdly the time of my life.

I met my fiance here. His name is June, or my little Juniper Berry as call him. He hates the name but I don’t care, I call him it anyways as he makes this little grumpy face at me. We’ve got a beautiful thing going --- the sex is godlike too so that makes it even better. He’s a sub and I’m a dom...we just work so well together. We met at this little magic competition we hosted here. He walked in like the little 6′ 2″ shy, sweet-hearted grump that he is, and came up to ask about some comic books. He was into your generic slice of life romance manga and I hadn’t met a boy who was open about that genre being their favorite. So we talked about it for quite a bit of time, he actually didn’t even participate in the competition. We just hung out at the register for three hours and just clicked. I knew I wanted to date him the moment I showed him how weird I looked with glasses on and as I was talking he said “It’s just noise coming from an ugly scientist”. I fell in love pretty quick.

On our first date which was two hours after the competition ended, he talked about how he wasn’t even going to go to the store but his best friend practically kidnapped him and brought him. He called it the only kidnapping he was ever thankful for. We got pretty serious pretty fast, we were both pretty secure in who we were and he proposed about 9 months later. It was cute, he asked me to marry him by a dead body (it was in a museum and it was preserved, so chill the fuck out). We went through some rough patches though. He had a lot of debt from school and my mother died about 2 months after he proposed to me, so yeah, it hasn’t been perfect either.

The wedding is in about 4 months, we’re having it in the store. We’re poor and we got the venue for free. It’s a couple of geeks dream being lived out.

It’s amazing to think that this universe, as chaotic as it can be, brings people into our lives that we can love, laugh, and live with. I never thought all of this would happen to me in this store but good things usually come unexpectedly. It’s not as good when you can see it coming. 

The other day (it was like 3 months ago) was a bit different. A man walked into the store and he looked around for about half an hour, and couldn’t find anything. He walked up to me and asked if I had an interesting indie reads. He was in luck cause he talked to me, and I gave him almost all I had. I talked to him about the art, the story, the structure of the comic, the inking, the process.

“You really know your stuff”

I do. I love comics. I didn’t grow up with them but in this short time I’ve began to read them --- I’ve found a home. I told him about that and he smiled. He asked me what I wanted to do in the future and I told him about how despite how awesome it was to work at the store --- I still saw myself writing. He asked me if I wrote stories and I did. We shared information and I gave him the link to my tumblr where most of my stories are posted. 

I didn’t expect much of the encounter but it’s the unexpected that blows you away.

Turn’s out ol’ boy was actually an editor at a pretty big comic book publishing company and he emailed asking me if I was interested in working as a comics writer. I didn’t know how to reply, but he told me about how he was trying to put something together for up and coming talent --- “to shine a light on the future of comics”. I was skeptical at first, it wasn’t my news writing gig that I wanted but everyone that I loved and has read my stories told me to “DO IT” so I went for it.

I wrote a short ten page story and worked with a fantastic group to tell an amazing story. The universe is weird...

Today I woke up and I walked to my store, got my cup of coffee and there I was organizing the shelves as usual on Wednesday ---I opened a small box expecting it to be filled with special orders but as I opened the box inside was the anthology I worked on. The names of my team were printed on there and I just started to cry like a madman.

Strange how the universe works right?

[theirstrangecircumstances]

The Strange Circumstances of Raymundo Rose Pt. 1

Ray yawned, stretching his arms above his head. The rare warm autumn afternoons were the best for a nap in the school’s field. The soccer team didn’t have practice that Friday so he had the field to himself. With the lazy heat and the cool breeze, Ray had little desire to head home where his mom would only nag at him to do his homework. Lying on the grass in the shade of the chipped brick wall was a much better idea.

He stared at the clouds, finding odd shapes and objects. One large and stretched cloud could have been a snake or a train but a movement distracted him, accompanied by hurried steps. Ray pushed himself up onto his elbows. Two figures jogged towards him, one of them short, like a small child, pulling another student along. Ray recognized Rei easily with his beautiful hair, and beautiful features, and beautiful eyes. They shared a few classes but never really spoke to one another. Rei was too pretty and made Ray question way too much about himself. They were questions Ray avoided.

There was no time to run away and pretend Ray didn’t see them. He was the only person in sight. Taking a deep breath to mentally prepare himself, Ray stood and ruffled his short brown hair, slouching slightly to show them just how much of a cool guy he was and not at all enchanted by Rei’s mere presence. “What’s up?” he asked when they stopped in front of him.

“Hello, Ray,” Rei said in his very melodious voice that certainly didn’t carry the music of angels. “I found him wandering around the front of the school and was pulled along.”

It took all of Ray’s strength to shift his eyes from Rei to look at the boy that held onto Rei’s hand—a totally non-envious position. The boy looked to be about seven with round cheeks framed by delicate locks. His head was covered almost entirely by a knitted cap, which made Ray feel hotter than he already did. Stranger still, however, was the boy’s brilliant eyes that stared at Ray with an intensity that made him fidget. His stern gaze was difficult to take seriously when it was on his child face. However, there was something very off about this boy, more off than can be considered normal. But since he couldn’t point it out he left it alone.

“You,” the boy suddenly said, pointed at Ray. “You don’t look occupied at the moment.”

Being addressed so aggressively did not improve the Ray’s impression of the boy, especially when the boy continued to cling onto Rei’s very beautiful hand.

“Hey! How would you know?”

The boy ignored his question completely and turned to the nearest school building, darting his head left and right as he scanned it. “Okay, that’s two. Just one more. One more.”

Rei looked over at Ray with an apologetic smile that made Ray forgive him anything. “Sorry,” he said. “I think this is a game. He said he needs to find three students and meet at the rendezvous point.”

“And where’s that?”

Rei shook his head. “I don’t know. Somewhere on school grounds, I imagine.”

The boy interrupted them with a cry. “We need just one more person!”

“Well,” Rei began. “If it would help, a friend of mine might still be here, up on the third floor of this building.” Rei pointed out the English building, very old and very dull, standing in front of them.

“The third floor?” the boy asked.

“Yes. If we enter from the left side, it should be the second door on the right.”

“Third floor, second room. Let’s go!”

Ray stayed where he was even as the boy began to drag Rei with him. It didn’t take long for the boy to realize that he was missing a playmate. When he spotted Ray the boy glared at him. “What are you doing? I will be late so let’s go!”

Ray followed, and it was not because Rei’s beautiful and soft hand was around his wrist, but because he wanted this game to be over soon.

They didn’t run into many people in the near-empty building. Most students hung out in the newer math and science buildings that had working drinking fountains all of the time, and clean floors and air conditioning. Ray had trouble running up the stairs, and felt death standing behind him when he nearly slipped. It was a marvel Rei, smaller and slim, was more agile and balanced.

The boy didn’t let them rest until they were in front of door if only for the second that it took for him to throw it open. The human chain dissolved as they entered and Ray missed the warmth around his wrist, his hand unconsciously reaching out. Then he realized and snatched his hand back and pretended to be more interested in who was in the room.

Ray frowned when he saw that it was only Shane leaning back in a chair, reading a book. Shane, the most popular boy in the school and his stupid blank face that most found it mysterious, was nothing but a poser. Black hair, observant eyes, and fit body, Ray couldn’t stand this pretty boy and how his name was always on everyone’s mouth, and how he was always hanging out with Rei and he was simply stupid.

Shane didn’t move, only shifted his eyes to see who had entered. He didn’t say anything, just waited for the others to explain.

The boy wasted no time in rushing forward and slammed his small hand on the desk. Shane, like the “cool” guy he pretended to be, didn’t react. “This is no time to be reading,” the boy exclaimed. “We’re in a hurry!”

Ray slinked forward to the boy. “Can’t we, you know, find someone else?” He spoke in a low voice but couldn't care less if Shane heard.

“There’s no time!” With fast movement he snatched the book—though meticulous in picking up the bookmark from the desk to save Shane’s place—and took hold of his hand to start running again. They were out the door and out of sight fast.

Rei laughed as he shrugged at Ray, beautiful eyes solely for Ray. “We’ve come this far.”

Coughing into his fist, Ray shrugged back. “Um, yeah, sure. Why not.”

Back down the stairs, out of the building, and along the school fence, they ran towards the far side. Ray recalled the dead end behind the math building. The dead end, however, wasn’t empty.

Beyond Shane’s irritating, flowing locks blowing in the wind without ever getting tangled were three others waiting for them. Squinting, Ray saw that it was actually four people. A child, suspiciously similar to the boy that was ordering them around, sat on top a person’s shoulders.

“NO!” the boy cried out as he came to a stop. “How? Why? I run faster than you!”

The child slouching over Midra’s head yawned and blinked down at him with tired eyes. “How should I know?” she said.

Ray looked between the two kids. They looked exactly the same, wearing similar clothes and cap, with the only difference being that the one on Midra’s shoulders sported shorter hair and looked on as if she were stuck between half sleep and boredom.

Beneath her, Midra examined them with a raised eyebrow. Ray shared a class with her before and knew just how dangerous she could be if provoked. She was a round girl and broad shoulder and fierce strength projected on her every movement. She wasn’t inherently violent, but Ray would never forget the brute strength behind her punch when a guy tried to look up her skirt. She was suspended for fracturing the guy’s arm.

Beside her stood Frida, tapping away on her phone with one hand and holding a bitten chocolate bar with the other. She was tall, taller than all of them, with oversized clothing hanging on her form. Ray knew she was part of the school’s dance team, but that was the extent of his knowledge.

Lastly was a small girl sitting cross-legged on the ground, scribbling with energy into a notebook. It was hard to see her face beneath her wild hair she kept in two low tails, and her large glasses. If Ray concentrated, he could hear her mutter to herself.

“Too bad there ain’t a prize,” Midra said as she lowered the little girl to the ground. Again, she looked at each of the boys with a smirk. “But I bet there’ll be more chances.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What’s going on?” Ray said. He was nervous with the way Midra looked at him, ready for a fight he knew he would lose.

With a huff, the boy turned to them with his hands on his hips. “We have a race to see who can find the next three warriors first. It was a tie until today.”

“Excuse me,” Rei said with his kind voice. “I don’t understand what the game is, or what you mean by warriors.”

Nodding and straightening his back, the boy pointed his finger at Ray, who stood in the middle. “You three have been chosen to be the next era of Dragon-race Warriors who will fight along the Fairy-race Warriors.” He motioned at the other group and Ray thought he caught a dark glance from Midra but it was gone before Ray could make sure. “Together, you will quell the creatures of anguish that have escaped from their tomb to envelope the world in eternal agony and grief. You will be heroes that fight from the shadows and save the world.”

This was a grand speech and all, but Ray couldn’t accept is as truth coming from this boy. Before he could ask anything, the twin walked over to whisper something in the boy’s ear. It was a short message, but the boy’s face flushed and he cleared his throat. “It seems I haven’t introduced who we are. I am Rabbit Sweet, and this is my sister, Rabbit Charming.” They bowed, back to back, to both groups at once.

Then they stood straight and removed their caps in unison and Ray understood what was off about the children. First were the rabbit ears that sprang up from their heads, twitching in the air before becoming still. The boy, Rabbit Sweet, was completely white. His skin was a deathly pale, white hair falling over white eyelashes, as he stood in clothes in shades of white. And if this one was a white rabbit, Rabbit Charming was a black rabbit. The only other color on them lay in their vivid gold eyes, so stark and shining.

“These caps mask our looks,” Rabbit Sweet explained to them, including Frida and the other girl who were now paying attention. “It makes people think nothing of us and remember just as much once we’re out of sight.”

Ray was frozen by the sudden realization that his mind, somehow, never picked up. The two children stood out painstakingly so. Maybe they weren’t even human children. Not with those fluffy ears.

Midra was the first to respond by approaching Rabbit Charming and leaned forward to get a better look. “It’s all real, right? It’s real.”

“Yes,” Rabbit Charming said. “The three of you will become the Fairy-race Warriors.”

At the same time, the rabbit siblings turned to face one another and took a step back. They moved as one, raising their left hands over the ground. With an explosion of light, a rod rose from the ground and stretched to form a very ornate, small table with two little chests on top. One chest held an emblem of a dragon, while the other held a fairy.

Then the siblings stood aside for each group to see. Rabbit Sweet cleared his throat. “In here lie the gems that will give you the power to fight. Once you take one, hold it to your chest and--”

“Whoa whoa. Hold up.” Midra interrupted. With her arms crossed she looked over the rabbits and said, “I wanna talk to my team first.”

“Go ahead,” Rabbit Charming said to her brother’s dismay (“This is an important ceremony!” he said.).

Ray watched them huddle together, Midra waving at Rabbit Charming to join when she didn’t make a move to. They whispered for a few seconds, Frida giggling a bit, before they nodded in unison and broke up.

“Change of plans,” Rabbit Charming said with the same disinterested look. “Seeing as we came together first, they will receive a prize.” She motioned at them with her thumb as she looked at her brother. “They want first pick.”

From Rabbit Sweet’s falling shoulders, Ray could tell he was shocked. “First pick!” Rabbit Sweet exclaimed. “What do you mean first pick?”

“Whether they are Dragon or Fairy Warriors, of course.”

A wide grin spread on Frida’s face as she added, “And we want Dragon.”

Part 2 will be posted next week! 

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