#also even if you want to ignore the continuity of stephen not aging or whatever

[greatghuleh]

so i’m catching up on doctor strange issues i hadn’t read because blaaaaaaaaah

and aaron’s run is trying to tell me that this continuity has it only 5 years between the end of Stephen’s career as a surgeon, his fall from “grace”, his study and training, his time with the Ancient One as a Master of the Mystic Arts, then becoming Sorcerer Surpreme.  All of which encompasses 3 decently long runs of Doctor Strange ongoings, at the time supposedly years as Sorcerer Supreme. His long relationship with Clea that went to marriage then a long “separation” then divorce. And this also includes all modern comics... Civil War, Fear Itself, Strange’s time in the New Avengers. 

to where he’s currently sitting as a semi-deposed Sorcerer Supreme with nothing to show for anything.

5 years????  But like. You couldnt just pretend you read any Doctor Strange before this tho?? or you just needed so much to have him... have to re-operate on some of his previous patients???

(anybody keeping score at home tho, Doctor Strange doesn’t really age. And he’s probably slightly younger than Steve Rogers’ age.  As in probably 10 years younger than Rogers?? or something like that.)

[popculturebuffet]

Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life Review

Happy Birthday To Me, as I continue my birthday celebration by taking a look at comics that have a personal connection to me.. And for our main feature, i’m taking a look at the first volume of a series that was vitally important to a teenage me, Scott Pilgrim. 

Scott Pilgrim is the brainchild of Brian Lee’O’Malley. O’Malley came up with the concept from a number of things. Being a fan of the band Plumtree, O’Malley was curious about the name of their song “Scott Pilgrim” and wondered who this Scott Pilgrim guy was. So over the years he slowly built the guy up in the back of his mind using bits of his life and what not. As for why he ends up fighting 7 evil exes, that came from a discussion with his then girlfriend, later wife and currently ex-wife Hope Larson, where he threw off the joke that her exes should form some kind of League. After finishing his first solo work Lost at Sea, O’Malley decided Scotty would be his next project and the rest is history. To date while O’Malley has written two works since, Seconds which is delightful and Snotgirl which didn’t grab me but I intend to try again, Scott remains his most popular work, in large part due to it’s SUBLIME video game and movie adaptations, the former of which is finally getting a rerelease next month. 

The series charm is in it’s style: A manga styled comic that combines two desperate kinds of story: Shonen Fight Manga and Slice of Life Indie Comics. The story shifts from Scott going through normal life stuff while trying to make his new relationship work and get his shit together and Scott getting into big bombastic fights with his new sweetie’s exes for the right to keep dating her and to you know, stay alive. The series effortlesly blends a video game like world with real grounded characters and is wonderful for it.  As for where I came in, one Free Comic Book day I found a little comic named Free Scott Pilgrim, which I genuinely loved and was instantly charmed by it’s humor and well done art. So I picked up the second and third volumes of the series proper and the first once I could find it and the rest ,as they say, is history. For my high school life, this was one of hte most important things in it and I wrote fanfiction, which I thankfully never put online and in general enjoyed the hell out of the series. Then I just kind of.. let it sit on my shelf for a while. It wasn’t BAD, I just never got back to it and as the franchise went dormant I just sorta slept on it and the movie and that part of me...

Cut to a few weeks ago, when Comixology did a massive sale for black friday that marked a ton of Graphic Novels down to just 1 buck each, and the color editions of Scott Pilgrim happened to be part of this, though only volume 1 was that cheap. But thanks to my best friend micheal and an early christmas/birthday present I got the rest and got to revisit the series as a whole, with me rethinking my previous thoughts of volume 1 and thus.. wanting to review it and share both why this series is so damn special and what’s good, and what’s not so good about it. I’ll also be covering the game, once i’ts re-released, and the movie once i’m finsihed with the comics so look out for that. And get ready to take a trip to the glorious land of canada... 

As a heads up and as you can tell i’ll be using the color version as while I could get scans of the black and white, I prefer the color version. While the black and white was fine and always will be, I think the impressive coloring job really adds to thing and makes the already great fight scenes pop more, as well as making certain background elements stand out a bit. While it does negate the black and white gags, the tradeoff is more than worth it. That being said either version is fine so if you can get the black and white cheaper that’s fine and i’ve kept my original copies, with volumes 4 -6 having been picked up as they came out. 

So as our story starts we meet our hero: Scott Pilgrim Age 23, a charming but jobless and kind of sketchy possible college graduate whose really been adrift in his life since a breakup about a year ago. And when our story opens he’s taken a turn for a worse and decided to date sweet but naive and inexperinced Knives Chau, a 17 year old girl. And why yes the power dynamics there are messed up and why yes Scott is pretty damn sketchy in this moment in time, and while yes I am aware the age of consent in canada is 16, it dosen’t make this any less greasy and the story knows that.  And how it knows that MOST of his friends aren’t on board. The only ones who seems to is Stephen Stiles, leader of Sex Bomb-Omb, the band scott’s in with one of the best names ever and even then it’s hard to tell if he’s being sarcastic or just a total douche. The other, Young Neil Nordgraf, Stephen’s roomate, is well 19 or 20 and kind of a dipshit so we just ignore him. I used to use him as kind of a projection, to put myself in the adventure when I was younger as Neil kind of lacks personality in the comics but in the comics.. he’s not hte best or most complex character. He is great in the movie though and Edgar Wright did an amazing job fleshing him out.  The rest of his circle are .. not so permissive. His best friend, roomate and king of all gays for all time Wallace Wells very much does not want to come with Scott to school to pick her up because every part of that sentence after hurt to type. Granted Scott gets him to come with him with promises of boys, but frankly knowing wallace he was probably just playing along/wants to protect this poor child. His ex and fellow bandmate Kim is clearly bothered by it and is flat out worried Scott is taking advantage of her. Kim and Wallace are easily my faviorites both for personality and because I have a massive crush on both. With Wallace it just didn’t manifest till the reread. Finally Scott’s kid sister Stacey chews him out over it before genuinely wondering if he’s gone insane or he’s actually happy. For my two cents: he’s not. He WANTS to be, but he dosen’t know how. And as someone whose both neurotypical, which given Scott’s troubles with empathy and relating to people like yours truly I strongly suggest he is, and has struggled with depression I can relate to that. He wants to move on but he just.. can’t, he just wants to get past the haze he’s been in since Envy dumped him.. but he dosen’t know how. So instead of doing someting constructive or finding a job or anything .. he just took the first and easiest way out of his depression he could. I’ve done that with video games and stuff. Scott did that by entering a relationship that’s really easy, requires only so much effort, and is with someone who utterly adores, looks up to him and will never expect better. Being with Knives makes him feel better.. but it dosen’t MAKE him a better person. As i’ve made clear dating someone just for a boost makes him actively worse and had fate not intervened, I shudder to think what Scott might have become. That being said his actoins are still creepy and since Scott has a habit of landing ass backwards into being an asshole here’s a counter to track that. That’s 2 for doing this overall, one for tleling her to be good, and 1 for trying to ply wallace with underage boys. 

Your the Scum of the Earth Scott Counter: 1

Thankfully fate does and Scott’s dreams, ones of him crawling through a desert alone, are interupted by a mysterious pink haired girl on skates. The next day he’s just sort of in a daze, kind of confused, and even more so when he sees her IN REAL LIFE, while at the library with Knives. He’s understandably frazzled but ends up finding out he’s not hallucinating when talking to MIcheal Cormeau. Micheal is a minor character and another artist and friend of o malley’s who represents that one guy in social circles who knows everybody. And indeed he knows the mystery girl, Ramona Flowers and that she’s there. Scott TRIES talking her up but just creeps her out, so Scott goes with plan b and decides to ask around about her. Enter Sandra and Monique, two college aquantinces of Scott, who just sorta show up at major events and aren’t that developed or intresting. They turn him to Julie who forbids him to date her. To which I say. 

Naturually we’ll aslo be needing a counter for this. 

Shut Up Julie Counter: 1

Scott however did find out she’s a delivery girl for Amazon Canada, and thus orders some CD’s on Wallace’s Credit card to hopefully see her. And while his behavior IS obessive.. it’s understandable. I’d be weirdly obessed with finding someone too if they showed up in my dreams every day and were apparently a real person. I’d probably play it cooler but still i’ts kind of understandable. So after a day with knives in which he’s clearly checked out she kisses him, he freaks out and it’s very clear that while Scott’s good at attracting women he’s just.. not good with his emotions and has finally woken up to how messed up this is, but has no idea how to get out now he’s intrested in someone he actually has a future with maybe.  Speaking of Scott’s package and Ramona finally arrive. Scott’s move is to.. ask her out abrubtly but after he mentions her Dreams, Ramona finally puts two and two together and explains things: She’s been using Subspace, a seris of highways connected by the subconcious and apparently more common in america, though it’s later revealed she was taught this but being the first book with a lot of the lore and what not ironed out this is fine. Point is she was just using his dreams as transit and didn’t mean to get him obessed. Scott continues to try his schtick and eventually gets her to agree to hang out with him. Why she does I generally do not know, as SCott basically fell ass backwards over himself conversationally, but whatever. If he didn’t succeed we wouldn’t have a plot. 

That being said things pick up a bit with the date though. The scene is really good and simply just the two.. talking. Having plesant conversations getting to know one another. That good stuff. it’s just really nice to read and it’s hard to explain why. Highlights include Scott’s x-men patch, Ramona not wanting to talk about her last job and Scott admitting he hasn’t been obessed in a long time.. and it comes off sweet rather htan creepy like that sounds. It just means he hasn’t fell this head over heels felt like this. As I said Knives was easy.. but this is hard.. and this.. feels right. So as things Snow Ramona yanks scott through subspace to escape the blizzard. 

So we end up back at Ramona’s place and she offers some tea which leads to one of the best gags of the volume as she lists them off: 

So Ramona goes to get Scott a blanket, Scott ends up following finds her changing, and she decides to warm him up another way.. by embracing him... cue.. the inevitible really. 

It feels organic though: The two are clearly attracted to each other and while Scott came on as strong as freaking colossus, he still rebounded well once they hung out and he could relax a bit and show the scott underneath the lairs of dumbass. The two end up cuddling in bed and Scott seems..genuiley happy saying he needed this... awwwwwww. They part the next morning with him asking her to his band’s performance. 

So Scott finds Wallace  at home who says what Scott needs to hear “You need to break up with your fake highschool girlfriend scott’ Granted the entire first 40 pages could’ve been titled that but now he’s actively cheating. He’s also got a letter. 

It’s a death threat Scott barely grazes through, just like an email earlier. 

But scott’s more concerned with his emotional distress.. i.e. the consequences of his throughly shitty actions finally hitting him in the face. 

Scott heads to practice for his gig and can’t bring himself to break up with knives, but does find out about the opposition: Crash and the Boys, based on an NES game title because of course it is. Crash, their leader, Joel their baseplayer who scott hates because he hates all other baseplayers (”I don’t hate myself kim) and Trasha, an 8 year old progedy they found playing Drum Mania. Don’t ask me what that is, i’m not going to get every refrence. 

So at the show Scott runs into Stacey and her new boyfriend Jimmy  with Stacey being supportive. And then Knives shows up and then RAMONA SHOWS UP. Oh no scott’s cheating might be discovered! 

So Scott books it while we’re introduced to Crash and the Boys. Wallace heckles them, to the band’s annoyance, until they eventually get fed up and we easly get the best gag of the volume. I was wrong this clearly tops the tea thing. 

So Crash and The Boys continue to play their set, including a song that supposdely kills the audience but really knocks them out.. which of course bothers kim because they play next. Meanwhile Ramona and Stacey meet and the two really get along.. and come back to find the audience ko’d and Wallace Making out with Stacey’s boyfriend. Oh no! Which is a dick move, no question. But Stacey’s next move is questionable even for a 19 year old: She says “You won’t steel another guy from me and tells wallace to sit over there”. Okay Stacey even if he is bi, and this series has trouble with the concept of bisexuals we’ll get into that later trust me, he made out with someone else entirely while on a date with you. Wallace is still an asshole, it’s part of his charm.. but it dosen’t change the fact your date kissed someone else seconds after you were gone and has been eyballing him all night, as seen even above. He’s not into you as you thought, just accept it, move on, and kick Jimmy in the balls and then wallace like a proper lady. So Scott prepares to play and this happens

And it’s here, at the very end of the comic the series main premise finally kicks in and the world takes it’s true shape. It’s a world where an indie comedy about a mess of a being putting his life together after finding his dream girl.. also has said mess being forced to get into fist fights with wizards, movie stars, vegans, half-ninjas, twin roboticists and a katana wielding douchenozzle record exec in order to continue to have the right to date his girlfriend. 

It’s where the series charm comes from and really what made it a huge sucess so it’s no suprise this volume perks up immensley for the climax. I’ll get more into it’s pacing problem at the end. For now it’s fight time and as we find out in a hilarious and awesome turn.. Scott is the best fighter in toronto.. which just makes me REALLLY want a Scott Pilgrim version of letterkenny. I mean who wouldn’t want to see wayne fight some guy who can turn his hands into dragons or see Squireely Dan do E.Honda’s hand slap move from streetfighter or see the skids all fuse into one mega emo. It’s just.. the possiblities are as endless as they are wonderous and I want this now. 

But yeah as Patel is both the first boss and Scott’s first real opponent Scott.. handles him really easily. This was by design as O’Malley wanted a shonen progression to the fights.. and honestly it’s a great way to do things. Since the fights are styled after shonen and video games, and both have power based progression in bad guys and threats, it just made sense. Patel.. is just pathetic even with his magic powers, and his habit of sending letters and emails just pounds it in. Though he is right to be a bit pissed Scott didn’t read a letter he hand delivered in a snowstorm. That’s just a tad rude. 

Mid-Fight, Scott, now he knows the whole evil ex boyfriend thing, wonders what Matt and Ramona’s past is and while Matthew refuses to tell.. Ramona spills easily. It was midddle school, all the jocks wanted her for whatever reason, likely because from experince in high school, guys really like indie girls. Matthew was the only non-white non jock, so they teamed up and with her strength and his mystic powers they beat them.. but since his use had dried up, she flipped him off and left.  Matthew dosen’t take this well and summons demon hipster chicks to fight while Scott and co, minus ramona, fight back with a finger gun routine and block his fire balls before propelling Scott into matthew somehow, and landing the KO Evil Exes Left: 6 Matthew bursts into coins though fun fact, O’Malley says the Exes all respawned back at home afterwords and learned their lesson. With Pattel I genuinely don’t think he did... but clearly given his penchant for formality what with the letters and emails, he probably felt it’d break protocol to attack before the rest were done. He probably jsut formed a hipster emo band and found more sucess using his magic for that instead and just forgot about the whole thing. Could be wrong but that’s what i’m going with.  So Scott asks Ramona to go out with him then make out with him, both of which she says yes to. Nice one scotty boy. Ramona then explains the whole evil exes thing: He’ll have to defeat each one as they come after him, and while Scott wonders if they’ll come one at a time Ramona’s not sure. As time will bear out, Scott is MOSTLY correct as most exes take him one on one, with the exception of the twins. But since as I said earlier the twins are basically one person, and as we’ll find out by choice, so it’s an exception. Plus their the last step before the final boss, so by that token it’s a bit fairer to have the penultimate boss get an unfair advantage. Scott is fine with that, he and Ramona share another moment and a kiss.. but Scott makes the mistake of asking if gideon is one and Ramona’s head starts glowing with her dodging the subject, though still going out with SCott and him worried.. it just feels.. off. not a bad ending but the only one of the series three cliffhanger endings that just dosen’t work for me, especailly since it is a bit before the Gideon mystery really picks up steam again. But with that we close this chapter

FINAL THOUGHTS:

Precious Little Life is a decent start to the story.  While Scott is loathsome at first, he’s still a compelling character and does get more likeable as things go, the humor when it is there shines and is one of the series best assets and while the fight is short and only at the end, it is oh so glorious especailly in cover with the impacts taking cues from the movie. It’s a good intro to Scott’s world and ther’es a reason the movie adapts this book the closest as it sets up the cast and premise well, with only Stephen Stiles feeling a bit off and ONLY for the first few chapters.  The volume is only really held back by it’s pacing, as before Scott runs into ramona in his dream the story feels a bit sluggish as we’re just watching some douche date a high school kid. While it is necessary to set up the world, it just dosen’t have the snappy pacing the series would be known for and that makes the rest of the series more charming. it’s nto BAD.. but it’s not FANTASTIC like the series would become. What keeps it from being bad is simple: These aren’t general badness signs but more just O’Malley coming into his owna nd getitng better and better as the book goes, to the point that by the next book the pacing is much better and by book 3 onwards he has it down pat.  Overall not a BAD volume but certaionly the weakest of the bunch.. which given it’s still really good says something about the ride we’re in for. I’ll be back sometime in the future, likely january. Yup i’m taking on YET ANOTHER PROJECT. but since this one, while clearly exausting and time consuimg, is much shorter in overall length, and i’m still proritizing the three I have running over this, I think i’ll be just fine. Until next time, have a happy holiday. 

[sophieakatz]

Thursday Thoughts: My Top Ten Muppets

Listeners of NPR’s Pop Culture Happy Hour recently cast their votes to rank the best Muppets – an impossible decision, really. And yet, once the top ten list was read aloud on the podcast, I found myself completely unsurprised. It’s a list that made sense, a list of safe bets. It’s also an incredibly Muppet Show-heavy list, even though the competition was open to Muppets of all properties, including Sesame Street and my beloved Dark Crystal. The full top 25 list, available here, reveals that a few Sesame Street Muppets ranked in the teens, but still. We all know the top ten is where it’s at, and this top ten was neither creative nor representative. It struck me as a list of popular Muppets, not a list of the best Muppets. Most of my favorites weren’t on that list at all!

So, here’s my take on the ten best Muppets – and because I don’t believe in objective Muppet rankings, I want YOU to reblog this post and tell me your favorites!

10. Swedish Chef              

The Chef came in ninth on NPR’s rankings, and I gotta be honest, I’m on the same page with them on this one. Maybe it’s the fact that when he comes onscreen, there’s no way to predict how the sketch will end. Maybe it’s the bizarreness of human fingers on Muppet arms – and knowing that those arms indicate a frankly superhuman feat of teamwork going on under the table. Maybe it’s just the Popcorn video, which always brightens my mood. Whatever it is, the Swedish Chef is definitely tenth best.

9. Fozzie Bear

I like Fozzie. He’s an underdog, never giving up in his pursuit of fame and audience acclaim. And even though his whole shtick is that he can’t succeed – Statler and Waldorf always get bigger laughs during his bits – he objectively has succeeded, because he’s still around and making us laugh after all these years.

What puts Fozzie in the top ten for me, though, is that I genuinely find his jokes funny. Honestly. I really do. So maybe Fozzie Bear sketches don’t really work for me, but Fozzie Bear himself does.

8. Rosita

I mentioned my disappointment before in the “official” ranking’s lack of Sesame Street characters. Sure, the cast of The Muppet Show has had a notable cultural impact, but it would be a disservice to Muppetkind if we ignored the impact of their friends on Sesame Street.

I could never forget Rosita. She’s not the most popular Muppet; she’s never had a super catchy song or a roll-on-the-floor-laughing one-liner to rival the others’ success. But her “Spanish Word of the Day” segments have a permanent spot in my memory. She’s sweet, she’s sincere, and she’s an excellent friend to her more famous fellow Muppets. (And as a bilingual Muppet, she’s really hecking important – there’s an episode where she deals with some kids making fun of her accent, and it’s equal parts heartbreaking and heartwarming!)

7. Rowlf

While other Muppets have one-note personalities – see number 10 on this list above, and number 5 below – there’s also Muppets like Rowlf. He’s not an “Anything Muppet,” by any means – he’s a character in his own right – but Rowlf is a dog who rises to any occasion. He sits at the piano to bring both beautiful classical pieces and hilarious parodies to life, and it’s all music to my ears. He can be the Straight Man to more chaotic Muppets’ antics, but just one clip of “Veterinarian’s Hospital” proves that he’s got enough silliness in him to take center stage.

And all the while, no matter what role he’s playing, he’s still that chill dog I adore – calm and adorable, with that round black nose, those big fluffy paws, and those floppy ears just begging to be scratched.

6. Deethra

As much as I love the original Dark Crystal film, the Netflix prequel series Age of Resistance has one big thing going for it: its characters. The protagonists of this show draw me in and make me care, quickly and continually. And best among them all is Deet. Deethra the Gelfling – small and beautiful, kind and powerful. She cares wholeheartedly about the world around her, and that care begets a wisdom that balances out her naivete in fascinating ways.

Muppets are so often silly, and we love them for it. But Deet embodies the Muppets’ potential to tell a serious story, a potential we would be remiss to ignore.

5. Animal

Oh my god, Animal. If you want to talk about the sheer silliness of Muppets, you need to talk about Animal. There’s just no way around it. He’s loud – in both sound and color scheme. And he’s absolutely bonkers. I know every drummer has an Animal in them, and it’s likely that all humans do. We’re just not all comfortable with letting him out to play.

That’s what’s so great about watching Animal do his thing. He has no inhibitions; he is freedom, he is chaos. And he lets me feel a little freer by association.

4. Hup

I talked a bit about underdogs in the Fozzie Bear section above. There’s an essay to be written about the Muppet as underdog; it’s an essential Muppet quality. Muppets are characters you logically wouldn’t expect to succeed, but they persevere, nonetheless.

Hup is the underdog of Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance. He’s the Podling who wants to be a paladin. Dear god he’s adorable, dear god he’s funny, and dear god do you root for him (and his spoon) to save the day! Of all the characters in this show, he feels the most Muppety – and that’s why he’s higher on the list than Deet. He’s still a serious character in a serious story (when he cries… my goodness), but he’s got that classic Muppet spirit to him.

3. Elmo

You know, I just don’t get why Elmo gets such a bad rap. Is it that people think he’s annoying? Sure, he is! Muppets are objectively annoying characters – they all are. Yes, even the one you’re thinking of right now. But I fricking love Elmo. He’s joyful, he’s spirited, and he’s exploring the world around him in that carefree way only a child can – and he brings you along on that adventure! “Elmo’s World” is your world. “Elmo’s Song” is your song. Elmo’s laugh is fricking infectious. And yeah, I’m probably biased by nostalgia (my dad’s Elmo impression cracks me up to this day), but Elmo is a darn good Muppet and he deserves our respect and admiration.

2. SkekSil

On a completely different note… let’s talk about the Chamberlain. There aren’t really that many Muppet villains. There are plenty of Muppet henchmen, providing comic relief for a human actor who isn’t supposed to be seen as that much of a threat anyway. The Skeksis of Dark Crystal are a notable exception, and SkekSil, better known as the Chamberlain, stands out among them. He is evil and he is smart. I hate him, and at the same time, I am fascinated by him. He knows what he wants and how to get it, even though he’s nowhere near as strong as the other Skeksis. He is, in his own way, an underdog. He believes in himself, and he wields that confidence as a weapon, calmly explaining to his enemies why they should do what he wants. You just can’t look away. He’s an amazing character, embodying the dark side of Muppethood.

1. Cookie Monster

When my mom first shared that episode of Pop Culture Happy Hour with me, in which the hosts talked about their favorite Muppets, I first thought, “How could you decide?” And then Stephen Thompson said his favorite was Cookie Monster, and I shouted “YES!!!” out loud. Because he’s right – Cookie’s the best.

Cookie Monster is eternally funny, whether you’re five or fifty-five. Everything that comes out of his mouth is pure gold (“Why me not get royalties?”) He’s got the best songs – not only the classic “C is for Cookie,” but also “Me Want It (But Me Wait),” “Me Am What Me Am,” and the “Healthy Foods” rap. All the stuff I love about other Muppets on this list – the unpredictability, the ability to fit into any role a sketch requires, the lack of inhibitions, the confidence, the chaos, the unexpected moments of wisdom – he’s got it all. He’s irreplaceable, he’s lovable, and he’s the top of my Top Ten Muppets list.

[elisaphoenix13]

Almost Full Circle

Thanks to a donation, I can post this! Enjoy!

Stephen had just come back from Kamar-Taj when not just Valerie came running to greet him, but Diana as well. Now that wasn't exactly uncommon, but it was when the little sorceress was looking frantic. Stephen couldn't even open his mouth before she did.

"Mommy! William needs help!"

Stephen frowns as he picks up Valerie. "Why? What happened?"

Instead of explaining the situation, Diana grabs his hand and leads him into the living room. There he found Tony sitting on the couch with Thomas standing in front of him, biting his thumbnail nervously, and both were looking at something Stephen couldn't see. He rounds the coffee table to get a better look, and then immediately darts forward to sit next to Tony and take the dark-haired baby he was holding. Valerie pouts a little when she's moved to sit next to her mother rather than on his lap, but doesn't complain when the baby takes her spot on his lap instead.

Hazel eyes look up into blue when the baby is transferred from one lap to another and then coos when he recognizes Stephen. It was William. He was somehow turned into a baby and that was what Stephen needed to find out if he was going to turn him back.

If. He was always tempted to leave his kids as babies.

"What happened?" Stephen asks and Tony shrugs.

"I'm not sure. It was just William and the girls up here when it happened." Tony says with a frown.

"He was showing us butterflies," Diana pipes up. "He said you taught him how to do it."

"Did it look like how I make them?" Stephen asks softly as he brushes back some of William's unruly hair.

"Yeah, but then Valerie laughed and it was different. Then he was a baby." Diana says.

"Ah." The sorcerer says with a smile. "I think I know what happened, but--"

"But you want a day with baby William before you change him back?" Tony finishes with a knowing smirk.

"Precisely."

The sorcerer gets up with baby William in his arms and Valerie climbs down from the couch to follow him into the kitchen. There, Stephen starts to make a snack for the younger children and he smiles when William starts babbling to him. The boy was incoherent but seemed happy enough to try and communicate with Stephen nonetheless. It was nice to see William so outgoing, but it made the doctor a little sad to know that the boy used to be so happy once upon a time. Granted, William's (and Thomas's) happiness seemed to be steadily improving since they moved to the tower.

"Mama!" The baby says and leans toward the counter reaching for the strawberries that Stephen had pulled out.

Hearing William call him Mama made Stephen's heart swell and he smiles. "Patience. I know you like strawberries."

While both William and Valerie cling to him, Stephen finishes putting together snacks and takes the plates over to the table. He sets William in Valerie's high chair and then helps Valerie onto a chair at the table as Diana joins them.

"Valerie, William needs to borrow your high chair for now okay? Can you be a big girl and sit at the table?" Stephen asks softly and Valerie nods as she reaches for a half piece of grape.

"Okay Mama."

Stephen smiles and kisses the top of her head and sits at the table across from her and next to William to monitor them. While he made sure to cut some of the food into small pieces, he always stayed to watch. Especially since blueberries were also involved. Tony in the meantime had convinced Thomas that his brother would be fine and to continue on with his day, and the older twin settled on the couch with the engineer to watch TV.

When Peter and Harley came home from hanging out with friends, Peter immediately burst into laughter when he saw William and Harley stared.

"Do you have bad baby fever Mom?" Peter cackles and Stephen rolls his eyes.

"I came home to him like this. He did it to himself by accident."

"Underoos, you should know by now that Mama Bear has permanent baby fever." Tony says from the living room.

"That's true. When are you going to fix him?" The teen asks the sorcerer.

"Maybe tomorrow." Stephen says.

"I...kind of understand why you and Cassie ignored each other when this happened." Harley finally mutters to his brother who snickers.

After the three younger children finished their snacks, Diana helped put their plates in the sink, Valerie climbed down from her chair to go play, and Stephen wiped William's hands and face free of sticky fruit juice before letting him down and following Valerie to check her for stickiness. He should have known his youngest would have stuck around if she did have some because she was perfectly clean when he caught up with her and looked. While he went back to take care of the dishes, Tony picked up William when he clumsily walked back to the living room.

"Come here mimmo. La mamma ti ha fatto uno spuntino delizioso?" Tony asks.

Stephen was mildly surprised when he saw William nod in response. He knew Tony planned on teaching the twins other languages like he had taught (and is still teaching) the rest of the kids, but he didn't know when his husband found the time. The twins usually spent their time downstairs or with Peter, Harley, and Cassie. Unless maybe they went to the lab sometimes?

William starts on another spiel of baby gibberish, with the occasional proper English word, and Tony chuckles before setting the baby back down. William toddles over to where Valerie is playing, and the baby girl holds out a block for him once he sits down. The two play quietly, talking amongst themselves, and Tony joins Stephen at the kitchen sink to watch them play together.

"I know that look." Tony huffs fondly when he sees Stephen, blue eyes full of content and motherly love.

"What look?" The sorcerer asks after tearing his gaze away from the babies.

"You want another one."

Stephen snorts. "I always want another one."

"But you're actually considering it." Tony points out as he wraps an arm around Stephen's waist.

"The baby is still in our room." Stephen counters.

"She's getting to that age where we need to start getting her into her own room...or at least sharing with Diana."

"The twins are also still new to our family."

"Maybe, but I was serious when I said we can have as many babies as you want. We're not hurting for money at all. We could have twenty kids before I start to notice a dent." Tony chuckles.

Stephen smiles and leans into him after drying his hands. "Maybe later."

"Whatever you want Duchessa."

The rest of the day was spent on the living room watching the babies. Both William and Valerie would ocassionally toddle over with a toy to offer Stephen or Tony, and when they got bored of toys, a Disney movie was put on. They watched a couple of those, and halfway through the third found Tony giving William's stomach multiple rasberries which had the boy screeching with laughter.

If Stephen had ovaries, they would have burst by now.

"Okay." Tony starts once dinner was had. "Time for three of our babies to go to bed."

"Is William staying up here with you?" Thomas asks and Stephen nods as he takes the baby boy from Tony.

"Just for tonight. We can't let him stay by himself in his room."

"Okay." Thomas nods and thanks them for dinner before heading down to spend the rest of the night with Wanda and Vision. Probably to watch a movie before bed.

Harley had been surprisingly scarce all day, sticking to hanging out in his room for the most part. Diana went down with Cassie after snack time until dinner and now Tony was leading her upstairs with Valerie in his arms. Peter and Stephen followed, the teen heading into Diana's room to read her a bedtime story, and the adults into their bedroom with the babies. They dressed Valerie and William in their pajamas and then changed themselves before joining the babies on the king sized bed. William would have to sleep in the bed with them, and Stephen figured Valerie might kick up a fuss if they didn't let her join them too.

Tony turned the TV on at a low volume as Stephen got himself and the babies settled, and the engineer smiles when both of them curl up against Stephen. All three were already drifting off, Stephen because of his Sorcerer Supreme duties he had earlier in the day, and the babies because...well...they were babies. Tony reaches over and strokes high cheekbones with his thumb.

"Tired, honey?" He asks quietly.

"Hmmm…" Stephen answers as soft snores come from the little ones nestled against him.

The bedroom door cracks opens a little more to let Athena in, and the wolf hops up onto the bed. She briefly sniffs Valerie and William until Stephen gently pushes her away, and she walks back over to the foot of the bed and lays down with a tired huff. She had also helped keep an eye on and play with the babies, sniffing them was just her way of checking on them one last time before she went to sleep.

"Good girl." Tony mumbles and leans down to pet her before laying back down to watch TV.

He was the last to fall asleep, and when he did, Friday turned off the tv. Both children thankfully slept through the night, but of course, the next morning, the couple woke up to the babies in different positions than they had fallen asleep in. Valerie was in her usual position with her foot in Tony's face, and William was sprawled out with his face buried in Stephen's neck. The two didn't dare move until they woke up though. They simply rested until hazel and blue eyes both blinked open and both babies yawned.

Athena got up when Valerie sat up and the baby girl giggles with the wolf licks her face. "'tena! No!"

William sits up to pet the wolf and Stephen and Tony get out of bed. With a reluctant sigh, the sorcerer helps William to the edge of the bed and starts forming the spell to turn the boy back to his teenaged self. The boy coos as magic sparks from Stephen's fingertips, and the doctor sends the spell at the boy. After a very brief flash of light, they find William back to normal, and the boy squeaks with a growing blush before seemingly popping out of existence.

He had merely teleported elsewhere, likely his room, but it still had Stephen sighing. He had hoped the incident would help the teen open up more.

"Give him time Duchess. You know he's skittish." Tony says after walking around the bed to give him a good morning kiss.

"I know." Stephen sighs. "It was nice while it lasted at least."

Tony chuckles. "Are you sure you don't want another baby?"

"Don't tempt me until Valerie is out of our room." Stephen smiles.

"Pfft there's enough room in here for a second crib."

"Are you sure you don't have baby fever?" Stephen teases.

"Who knows? Maybe it rubbed off on me." Tony smiles. "How about you shower and I'll make breakfast today?" He offers.

"Sounds like a plan." Stephen murmurs before kissing his husband again.

Tony leave the room after picking up Valerie, and Stephen smiles when he hears the engineer ask their youngest what she wants for breakfast (in Italian of course). What surprised him was when Valerie responded with "Waffles!" in Italian as well.

Their kids really were clever.

Stephen started to wonder if Tony and the kids were conspiring against him now with all the foreign languages they were learning. It was no secret that the sorcerer had a thing for it. The kids would probably help tease their mother by talking to their father in different languages.

It might just work too, Stephen thinks with an audible sigh.

[collecting-stories]

Magic | Finn Shelby

You might have me believing                                                                               I don’t always have to be alone. - Hey Stephen, Taylor Swift. 

The door to the caravan swung shut and you pressed your hand over your mouth trying not to laugh. Giddy excitement blossomed in your stomach; your other hand entwined with Finn’s as you led him into the caravan.  

“How much time do you suppose we have?” He asked, catching you around the waist and landing on the soft bed with you.  

“Well since you let the door go, I’d guess less than ten minutes, Johnny’s got ears like a hawk.” You giggled, the noise near deafening when Finn leaned in and began placing kisses along your neck.  

“I did no such thing, you’re the one who pulled me forward.” He replied, teasing you. His fingers danced across your sides as he kissed your cheeks and then your lips. Sooner than expected a pounding resonated on the wooden caravan door. You dropped your head down to the bed and groaned as Finn pulled himself off of you.  

The door swung open and Johnny Dogs came through, his cap in his hands as he looked between the two of you. Finn was standing up, fixing his waistcoat while you sat up on the bed, shifting your dress so that it wasn’t twisted at the shoulders. Johnny’s eyes narrowed and the cap went back on his head as he frowned. “The two of you are gonna get your ears clobbered off. Now, Tommy’s here for you Finn, git.” He waved toward the door for Finn to walk passed him.  

The youngest Shelby came out of the caravan, walking leisurely down the short steps and picking his cap off the ground where it had fallen as you dragged him toward the promise of privacy. Johnny came out after him and you behind Johnny, looking bashful now that you were aware of just how many people were around. Tommy was at the car with Arthur and John, all three with their eyes toward you and your boyfriend. It was a relatively new term for you.  

It was just last week that you had been heading back to camp when you caught sight of Finn standing in the bakery on watery lane. You recognized him from the back, boyish and tall in stance, that ginger hair, so unlike his brothers, was peeking out from beneath his cap. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the sight of him and you thought about just standing there, just window shopping a Shelby until the possibility of him catching sight of you was too much to risk. But you were itching to know what it’d be like to go out with him. Maybe you would just say hello. Your families crossed paths more often than not but you doubted he even knew who you were from anyone else in your clan.  

Still you braved the bakery, enveloping yourself in the warm scent of yeast as you stepped into the small shop. The bell above the door signaled your arrival and Finn, who had been gazing at the different loaves with little interest turned at the noise. He’d been sent here on an errand by Polly but he cared little about which loaf of bread was the best and truly wanted to be doing something important. Something worthy of wearing the peaked cap he kept on.  

“Hello,” You were surprised with how quickly you managed to find your voice when his eyes were on you. Carefully, you slipped passed him to the section of shelving nearest the wall. You could feel his eyes follow you to your spot and grew warm under his gaze.  

“Afternoon.” Finn finally replied, squaring his shoulders and doing his best impression of the Shelby smirk. His hands found the lapels of his suit-coat and he tugged a little as if he was straightening out the impeccable uniform of the Peaky Blinders.  

You smiled, albeit a little shy, before turning back to the bread. You were clutching your basket in your arm and trying to quell the bubbling nerves that were dancing in your stomach at the close proximity of your crush. You had been to the Garrison with your friends just the week prior and had seen Finn there. Not nearly the first time you had laid eyes on the youngest Shelby but still you couldn’t keep yours off of him that night. He looked so lovely in the gray suit he was sporting, laughing at the bar with Isaiah and Michael. Your friends had teased you when they realized they were watching the Shelby but you brushed off their eager chanting that you ‘must speak to him’. There was no way, you could hardly speak to a normal guy your age. God, a Shelby? Never.  

“What do you think?” Finn continued, holding up two similar loaves of bread for your inspection.  

“I would go for that one personally. A bit softer, I would say.” You replied, reaching for the loaf of bread you had chosen for him and giving it a gentle squeeze, as if selling your idea to him.  

“Good choice.” Finn smiled, the smirk replaced with the sweetest glow of happiness that you’d ever seen. Better than the confident smirk and better than the forced laughter of trying to impress his friends. “I’d be willing to return the favor, should you need assistance.”

“Bread is a tricky subject.” You couldn’t keep your own smile off your face.  

Finn stepped closer to you, his tall, thin frame cornering your somewhat shorter one as he reached around you to pull a loaf of bread from an upper shelf. It was silly you thought, to be flirting over something like bread, if flirting was what you were doing. He held the loaf out for you and you took it from him. “This one looks worthy.”

“If you’re sure.” You grinned, “then this one is it.”

Once Finn had paid for his bread, and yours as well, ignoring the protests you threw his way and insisted that he purchase both, he asked if there was anywhere he could walk you. “The streets can get a bit worrisome this time of the day.” He informed you, holding the door open and letting you pass beneath his arm.  

“Midafternoon?” You asked, looking back to him. You were trying not to embarrass yourself in front of him, watching every step you took, afraid that you would trip and fall and Finn would think you were a klutz. You weren’t but the concern that he might think you were anything less than worthy of his time was terrifying. Desperately, all you wanted was his attention.  

Finn was only twice as nervous, the skin beneath his suit feeling itchy and warm as he tried to keep his breathing calm and his voice steady. He was a Shelby after all, he had a reputation to uphold and part of that reputation, as proven by John and Tommy (and even Arthur on certain days) was a certain level of calm collectedness that made women swoon. He couldn’t throw all that expectation away just because looking at you made his pulse quicken and his hands clam up and his mouth go dry. What would you think if he so openly pursued you, if he said everything he wanted to say right off the bat? No, he had to play it cool.  

“You never know, it’s best to be safe.”

“Well then I should appreciate the escort.” You replied. When he held his arm out, bent at the elbow, for you to take you did. Your fingers settled over the soft fabric of his suit, tucking into the inside of his elbow and smiling up at him. Pretty and pleasant, you tried to remind yourself.  

Sure, John Shelby had been taken by a gypsy but that was a business set-up and John Shelby needed a mother for his children and Esme had a certain fire in her that seemed to draw everyone in, moths to her eternal flame. You were not Esme, you lacked that spirit that made her such a treasure. You were only average, nothing special about you to set you apart from other gypsies. Even other gypsies couldn’t not find anything interesting enough in you to take a second glance. What would Finn think to find out that you were not as sweet and lovely as the other girls in Small Heath. Not a proper English lady like Michael’s girl, you were more for the country. A breed of human meant to never settle, to never stay too long in the same place. Though you had returned to Small Heath plenty of times you had also been other places, rolling green moors that took away your breath and beautiful seas that called to you to swim in them. A true gypsy though you would willingly lay down your life in the caravan for a chance with Finn Shelby. Was that silly to say so early on? All he’d done was smile at you but you felt like the whole world was at the tips of your fingers.  

“I’ve seen you around before,” Finn began to say but never finished. Someone called his name and he stopped walking you toward whatever destination you might eventually stop at to turn in the direction of the booming voice.  

Against the noise of a busy street in Small Heath in the afternoon you could hear it. “Finn Shelby!”  

There on the front step of a house was a woman you had seen plenty of times but never up close. Polly Gray stood at the door of the betting shop, hands on her hips in the most imposing manner she could have mustered as she shouted across the street for her nephew. The red blotchy warmth that was covering Finn’s body spread up to his ears, highlighting the freckles that he shared with his eldest brother. He was almost bashful as he looked at you.  

“I’ve to go, can’t keep Aunt Pol waiting.” They said Tommy was in charge of the business but it was clear that Polly was in charge of everything else.  

You nodded, “of course,” your hand fell from his elbow. He looked somewhat regretful like maybe he would have stayed if it had been anyone else calling his name.  

“Could we see each other again? I’ll be at the Garrison tonight.” He said, looking back to Polly. Waiting for the next shout of his name to signify that there was no time left to stall. She waited too, as if to see what would come first.

“Alright.” You agreed before you could really think things through all the way. Could you be at the Garrison tonight?

Finn smiled, eyes alight as he leaned down and placed a kiss against your warm cheek. You bit your lip as he pulled away, looking both happy and mischievous. “I’ll see you tonight.” And then he was hurrying across the street with the loaf of bread tucked beneath his arm.  

You kept your promise to go to the Garrison that night after bringing the loaf of bread home and rather furiously trying to find a dress that would like nice out of your limited chest of clothes. A borrowed one from a girl in another caravan who was slightly older and already wed ended up being the one you wore. You thought about asking along a friend or two, not wanting to seem like the desperate, crush-stricken girl who arrives at the Garrison alone in hopes that she’ll catch a Shelby’s eye. But in the end, you wanted whatever time was allotted you and Finn for yourself, not to be shared with others.  

When you arrived at the pub it was already crowded though you couldn’t think of a time that it wasn’t. Some hung near the doors as if wanting to leave but ultimately being unable to pull themselves away from the goings on of the congregation gathered. Others occupied tables and barstools, laughing boisterously and chatting at volumes louder than necessary. You ducked between patrons, trying your best to appear confident in your pursuit of the bar. You would need multiple drinks at this point in the evening.  

Finn was trying to get out of the house just as you were ordering a gin from the barkeep. He stood in the narrow hallway, hand on the doorknob, listening to Polly tell him that a family meeting was far more important than some girl at a pub.  

“I’ve got to go Poll. Not like it matters, they don’t give a shit whether I’m there or not.” Finn argued, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened. He wanted to scream. Just let me leave this god forsaken house. “I’ll ask Michael for all the important bits.”  

“Finn Shelby, Tommy gave strict instruction-” She insisted.  

Tell him to shove his instruction up his ass. “I’ll be back later.” Why should he sit through an evening of listening to Arthur belittle him in front of the family?

Cap in hand, he made a record sprint to the Garrison, slipping into the pub and spotting you at the bar. You were sipping on a gin and your eyes shifted nervously over the patrons as you scanned the room for his arrival. When you caught sight of his tall form by the door your eyes lit up with a smile and he nearly collapsed from the feeling in his chest. Wouldn’t it be nice to always see such a smile? Finn made his way to the bar, stepping between your barstool and the one beside it as he angled his body toward you.  

“Sorry I’m late, a bit of family business needed clearing up.” There was that devilish smirk again as if he was so vital to family business that he would even been noticed in the room. You were none the wiser though and only nodded at his excuse for being held up. He wouldn’t admit to being a petulant child throwing a tantrum in the front hall at the thought of not being allowed out of the house.  

“That’s alright, I would’ve understood.” You reply, doing your best version of a reassuring glance his way as you sipped on your gin. The truth being that you would never have understood and would likely have gone home gutted, too embarrassed at being stood up by a Shelby that you would never show your face in Small Heath ever again.  

Finn tapped the wooden counter as the barkeep passed by and requested a glass of whiskey. “Nonsense.” His free hand went to the backrest of your chair and when you leaned back just slightly you could feel his warm skin against you, even through the dress. He looked over his shoulder, surveying the parties in the Garrison before settling on the door of the private room. “Want to go somewhere quieter?” He asked.

“You’ve only just ordered your drink.” You replied, not having noticed his appraisal of the room.  

“We’re not leaving the Garrison, here, I’ll show you,” and his hand slipped off the stool and onto the small of your back, pressing you gently to stand. Even when you did he only removed his hand for a fraction of a second as you stepped out from the bar with him, your gin in his other hand. He walked with you, steering you toward the private room and giving the same devilish smirk as earlier when he opened the door and found it empty. “Go ahead.”

“Are we allowed in here?” You questioned though you went in anyway.  

“Course, my brother owns the place.” Finn replied though truth be told they had been allowed in this room since before Arthur had bought the Garrison. This room was always set aside for Shelby business.  

The window to the bar opened and the barkeep left Finn’s whiskey on the ledge which you retrieved for him, bringing it over with you to the table and taking a small sip. He liked the way you held the glass from the top, almost unsure, and sipped at the liquor. Your face scrunched up and Finn smiled as he switched drinks with you, sitting down beside you on the bench and stretching his arm across the back the same way Arthur always did. Gave him an air of authority, so Linda said.

“Not quite for me, think I’ll stay with the gin.” You grimaced, taking your glass back. You smoothed your dress over your knees, pressed close together as you tried to calm the beating of your heart. Finn was right beside you, at any moment his arm could slip down, land on your shoulder and draw you closer. A friend of a friend had a boy do that at the picture-house and she said he kissed her when she turned his way. You should certainly like to kiss Finn, if it were to come down to it, but you weren’t sure he was interested in that just yet. Perhaps he was only being casual. Surely men sat like that always?

Finn smiled and tipped the glass to his lips as he drank down the contents. It burned his throat on the way down but he’d done this show of bravado enough times in front of Michael and Isaiah that he hardly flinched. At the same time that he set his glass on the table his arm slipped down over your shoulders and you scooted just a centimeter closer, feeling the way his knee pressed against yours when he spread his legs.  

“Do you live in Small Heath? I feel bad asking I just haven’t seen you around much.” Finn leaned just so, turning almost into you as he asked. If it wasn’t for the warmth of his body against yours the question might have embarrassed you. Had he really never noticed?  

“I live just out of town.” Was all you would give up for now. Gypsy girls were good enough for business deals with Shelbys who had too many children but that was not Finn. The youngest Shelby, heir to the name and the title and the business. Too old for his age but too young to be taken seriously by his brothers. “Did the bread work out for you? I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble.”

“None.” he smiled, the light hearted smile of a boy with a million secrets as he leaned close to you, “besides, it would have been worth getting my ears boxed just meeting you."  

The warmth in your face spread down to your chest at his words. As smooth with ladies as his brothers but you didn’t let that stop you from falling prey to his flattery. You smiled behind your glass of gin, letting it rest on your lower lip for a mere second before taking a sip. Finn’s eyes travelled to your lips and he licked his own as the alcohol passed between yours.  

Polly had impeccable timing which was the sole reason she had opened the door to the betting shop at the exact same time as you and Finn approached on the other side of the street. He may not have recognized you but she did. You had been just a girl at Esme and John’s wedding, playing near the fire with the others, dirt on your special occasion dress. She was almost surprised to see you grown. You assimilated better than the rest of your kin, if she didn’t know you she never would’ve guessed that you were a gypsy. But she did know you, knew all the trouble Esme had caused, all the trouble being half-gypsy caused Tommy and she was damned if she would have her youngest chasing your skirt. So she bellowed for him, looking as intimidating as possible and hoping that she could scare you away.  

Go home, she wanted to yell, keep your troubles from my family.  

“Let me walk you home?” Finn asked, arm still draped around your shoulders as he led you out of the pub. He was somehow closer walking beside than he had been sitting in the booth with you though you couldn’t think of any reason to complain about the proximity.  

“It’s rather far.” You replied quickly, the verbal equivalent of pulling away. You couldn’t imagine him walking you to a field of caravans down by the river bank. The combination of embarrassment and gin fuddled your mind and you nearly lost your footing on a stone but Finn’s arm dropped to your waist and his hand tightened against your hip, keeping you upright and close.  

“Alright there?” He asked, concern evident in his tone though it was too dark to see his features.  

You must have polished off an entire bottle of gin while he worked his way through whiskeys. It was a feat in itself that the two of you were managing to walk upright and converse at the same time. “Fine.”

“So, let me walk you to my house then?” He asked, cheeky grin nestling at your neck as you felt him lay a kiss there that gave you goosebumps the length of your body. “It’s close.”

“I don’t want to disturb your family.” You replied, voicing your fear. It was the only one you could think of. Despite the alcohol you felt that you were sane enough of mind to make un-regrettable decisions and you remembered another older girl from camp once telling you that when the time for things was right you would know. At the time the ‘things’ she spoke of felt ominous and you didn’t understand but time had passed enough that you were acutely aware of the ‘things’ and knew that Finn was a lovely choice for a ready evening. Though the panic of overthinking settled too, asking if he was asking because he wanted you and liked you or if you were pretty and just another girl. You’d heard stories of the Shelby boys and their conquests. Even John was not free from tales.  

“It’s only Polly and she’ll never wake up, I swear.” Finn crossed his heart backwards and just a little crooked, laughing as he did. He leaned too far and you stumbled trying to keep him steady but he managed to right himself.  

His arm unwound from your waist so that he could grasp your hand and lead you across the street to his house on Watery Lane. He kept looking back to you, smiling with such a boyish charm that it made your heart flutter. He placed the sweetest of kisses on your lips as you stood at the bottom of the stairs together and you couldn’t find it in your heart to categorize the sensation as eager. It was only loving.  

You followed him up the stairs and down the hall to a plain, greenish door that he pushed open to reveal the small room he slept in. The inside was roughly the size of your family’s whole caravan but he looked like he thought it was modest. Outside of Small Heath meant the country and the country meant sprawling estates like the one that Tommy owned. And estates meant large, grandiose rooms that Finn could only dream of spending more than a night in. You liked the room though and the bedspread that looked as if someone had sewn each sqaure of fabric together by hand.  

You took a cautious seat on the edge of the small bed, pressed up against the wall beside the single window in the room. Your hands smooth over the bedspread as you sit there, looking at the lap of your dress as you wait for whatever might come next. Would he kiss you? Were you supposed to kiss him? The flush of his cheeks disappeared into the red stubble on the nape of his neck and disguised the freckles on your face.  

He moved across the room with less confidence than he had displayed in the Garrison. You weren’t sure if it was because he was no longer in public, acutely aware of the people watching his every move or if it was the alcohol in his system making him appear so nervous but either way there was something terribly endearing about it.  

“So,” you shifted toward him, placing a hand over his on the bedspread.  

“We could...” Finn trailed off, leaning toward you. The hand that wasn’t now holding yours settled on your waist as his eyes closed and his lips pressed against yours. Chapped but still moist, either from the whiskey or his nervous constant licking of them. You kissed back, unsure what to do with your hands. You continued to hold his but your other rested awkwardly on your lap as Finn attempted to deepen the kiss. His tongue ran across your bottom lip and you gasped at the sensation. When his tongue went into your mouth you yelped and bit down just enough to make him bang his forehead against yours in surprise.  

You scooted away from him, face warm with embarrassment and hands covering your eyes. “I’m so sorry!” You mumbled behind your hands, peeking up at him.  

Finn had his tongue out and was trying to look cross-eyed at the damage you’d done to him. When you caught sight of him you couldn’t help the girlish giggle that passed your lips. You kneeled up on the bed and leaned toward him, “let me see?”

“I’ve had worse.” He assured though his tongue hurt and he definitely couldn’t think of the worse that he’d had right now.

“Can I do anything?” You offered, “I feel terrible.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I’m going to get the whiskey from the kitchen though, should help right?”

“I have no idea.” You laughed. Then hesitantly, “should I go?”

“What? No! Of course not!” He insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders and guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed again. He kissed your forehead and then smiled, “I’ll be right back, more whiskey? We can chat some.”  

-

You woke in the morning still in your dress, the fabric twisted around your middle and legs from turning in your sleep. Your face rested against Finn’s side and his arm was above your head. Careful not to wake him but closed in on the bed you sat up, getting to your knees and cautiously climbing over him. Finn’s snoring stopped for the briefest moment and you paused, one foot still on the bed, waiting for him to open his eyes. Instead he just turned over in his sleep. With both feet off the ground you untwisted your dress, fixing it and your slip around yourself so that it didn’t appear you’d spent the entire night sleeping in the garment.  

Before you could get to the door it was flung open, startling you and causing Finn to sit up suddenly in bed, hands scrambling for the gun that was typically under his pillow. Tommy stood in the doorway, surveying the both of you skeptically. “Emergency family meeting. Lose the whore.”

“She’s not a whore Tommy!” Finn shouted after his brother as the door closed. He slumped back over the bed, head resting against his forearms. “I apologize for him.”

“It’s alright. I understand, it must look...” You trailed off, waving a hand over the room as if to say he must’ve thought I had sex with you.

“It’s not that. He’s daft sometimes, even Polly says so.” Finn replied, climbing off the bed and grabbing his vest top off the floor. He pulled his shirt out and undid his pants in order to tuck the shirt back in. Not sure what to do you stood there watching him, your eyes followed the skilled movement of his hands as he folded the shirt into his pants. Once secured he did up his trousers once more and you watched the nimble way his fingers buttoned each button on his vest. Looking up Finn caught your line of sight, smiling. “If you’ll wait I’d love to take you home?”  

“Alright.” You couldn’t help agreeing, letting him kiss you one last time before he was disappearing out the bedroom door. You sat down on the quilted bedspread again and listened to his footsteps down the stairs.  

It felt odd sitting in someone else’s room by yourself but you didn’t want to chance leaving before Finn returned. Both because he looked hopeful about walking you home and because you were afraid you’d accidentally walk in on them discussing business. There wasn’t too much that you knew about the Blinders but you were sure overhearing important business information could definitely get you in loads of trouble.  

While they were downstairs your curiosity got the best of you and you stood, walking over to the trunk in the corner and opening it. A few slacks and shirts, like the ones he’d changed into, a gun, and another cap. You’d seen plenty of guns in your life, they were a common commodity amongst the caravans but you’d never actually held one before. This one looked a bit older than those you were used to and not quite as used as the one you’d seen on Finn’s night table. He had nothing scholarly in his room and little in the way of entertainment. You had heard from Johnny Dogs that all the Shelby’s were pretty smart, even the oldest Arthur though you didn’t know him to know why not being smart mattered. You closed the trunk and changed directions, deciding to make the bed while you waited.  

Nothing but talking had come of the night before, just as Finn promised. It wasn’t that you were opposed just that you didn’t want him thinking you were easy or thinking that maybe this was something casual when you wanted desperately for it to be more than that. You’d resisted the urge to throw caution to the wind and sleep with him but he’d seemed perfectly content with polishing off the last of Polly’s whiskey and lounging in bed with you until you’d both fallen asleep.  

“Don’t know why they make such a fucking deal outta me going to those bloody meetings. Not like they care worth a penny.” Finn grumbled as he opened and shut the door. You had just finished tucking in the left end corner of the bed and jumped a little at his sudden arrival.  

“Sorry?” You asked.  

“Oh!” Finn looked as if he’d forgotten you were there and honestly, for just a moment, he had. He was so bothered with his brothers, between Tommy’s dumb comment that morning and then him being looked over and teased throughout the meeting, he was livid and completely forgot that he had company sitting up in his room. “Sorry I-did you make the bed?”

“Well I wasn’t sure what to do and it was mussed so I thought...why not?” You teetered on uncertainty, rocking back on the heels of your stocking feet.  

Finn smiled, catching your elbow and pulling you closer to lay a kiss on your forehead and then your lips. “Thank you, that’s awfully kind.”

“You’re welcome.”  

“Let me walk you home.” He announced, pulling himself away and going to get his shoes from beside the door. He handed yours over as well and you took a seat on the freshly made bed as you begun to do up your boots. Finn sat on the floor, back against the wall and looking up at you every few seconds with a smile. He looked happy, genuinely so, and the smile was seemingly contagious because you couldn’t help yourself from smiling back at him.  

Neither Polly nor Tommy said a word as you followed Finn down the stairs into the narrow hallway, though both stood at the kitchen entrance watching you. Finn kept his hand in yours as he led you out of the house and back onto Watery Lane. It was morning now, much brighter now than it had been when he was walking you home the night before. You squeezed his hand and held his arm with your other, too confident being on his arm to be bothered that you were wearing your dress from the previous night. Word, of course, would get around Small Heath until everyone was talking about Another Shelby brother getting mixed up with the gypsies. For right now though it was new and the news had not yet made it’s cycle as you walked with him.  

“Come here,” Finn beckoned, turning his head to smile at you as he led you around a corner abruptly.

“I thought we were walking me home?” You asked, frowning just the slightest as he released your hand from his. He came up behind you and covered your eyes, “Finn what’re you doing?”

“I’ve got a surprise.” He nudged you to walk further into the alley and you complied, careful in your steps until finally he held you firm, “here we are.”

With your eyes uncovered you saw that you were standing before a car. You had seen automobiles before though you’d never had the chance to ride in one. Even when Johnny Dogs had one on loan from the brothers he never let anyone ride in it except those he was doing business with. You knew of other gypsies that had cars but your small clan had remained carless. You looked back to Finn who was smiling happily down at you, clearly proud of himself.  

“I swiped the keys during the business meeting, figured I’d give you a proper drive home.” He announced, holding up the key so that you could see it.

“I’m not that far outside of Small Heath really, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”  

“Well,” Finn shrugged and moved forward to open the passenger door to you, “I’ll warn you I’m always mixing up directions, may take us a bit longer to get home.” The cheeky grin was back and you giggled like a school girl at the implication.  

“That’d be alright.” You let him help you into the car, a kiss on his cheek before he closed the door.  

The wind raced through your hair as Finn sped down the country road. Every bump sent you jostling in your seat and you couldn’t help laughing. Somehow this felt like the most fun you’d had in ages. He was looking between the road and you, each time his smile growing as he met your eyes. You reached across the bench and grabbed his forearm as he hit a particularly awful bump that sent you off your seat. You let out a shriek and Finn brought the car to a halt, falling into laughter as he leaned his head against the steering wheel. Your head fell back against the set as you tried to collect your breathing.  

“I think I’ve been jostled enough for one afternoon.” You laughed.

“I’m not the one who lives so far outside of town.” He teased, the ever present smile on his face as he leaned over and kissed your cheek.  

“We’re well passed where I live by now.” You replied, mock indignation lighting your voice. “You’re just wasting time.”  

“Naturally, it’ll break my heart to see you go.”  

“You’re such a tease Finn,” you shifted in your seat so that you could see him better.  

“I’m not teasing.” He announced, “And I’d like to see you again. Tomorrow? Or tonight possibly?”  

“I was thinking of going to the Garrison.”

“Perfect.”  

-

taglist: @thinkingsofamadwoman @mixedwiththemoon @titty-teetee  @queenmissfit @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @absentmindeduniverse @his-paradox @medievalfangirl @danceyreagan @listensweettea @5secondsofjoal @breathlesssouls @kingsmanstories @woeisbutwoe @another-life-addict @my-life-as-a-fangirl @johhnshelby @mysticthinkinglol @44garbage @darkestbeforethedawn16 @alexacj @dracodormiensnunquamtitillandush @mainokutan  @loserrlauraa 

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

December 16, 2020

Heather Cox Richardson

The reality that Joe Biden is about to become president and Kamala Harris is about to become vice president is sinking in across Washington, and today gave us some indications of what that’s going to mean.

Stories about what exactly happened in the Trump administration are coming out, and they are not pretty. Politics trumped everything for members of the administration, even our lives.

Today Representative James Clyburn (D-SC), who chairs the House Select Subcommittee on the Coronavirus Crisis, revealed documents from senior appointees in the Trump administration overriding the work of the career officials in the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Those documents show that the political appointees at the Department of Health and Human Services called for dealing with the coronavirus crisis by pursuing a strategy of “herd immunity,” deliberately spreading the coronavirus to try to infect as many people as possible, with the theory that this approach would minimize the dangers of the pandemic. While doing so, they downplayed what they were doing, tried to hide the dangers of the virus, and blamed the career scientists who objected to this strategy for the rising death rates.

Although the White House has tried to distance itself from senior Health and Human Services Adviser Paul Alexander, last summer he was widely perceived to speak for his boss Michael Caputo, the Health and Human Services Assistant Secretary for Public Affairs whom Trump had appointed, and for the White House itself. Alexander, a part-time university professor from Canada, defended Trump against scientists, accusing CDC Principal Deputy Director Dr. Anne Schuchat of lying when she provided accurate public information about the worsening pandemic. When she suggested everyone should wear a mask, he claimed: “her aim is to embarrass the President.” Alexander attacked Anthony Fauci for his attempts to protect Americans. “He just won’t stop!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” wrote Alexander on July 3, 2020 (yes, I counted the exclamation points); “does he think he is the President???”

Alexander advocated spreading the infection to younger Americans: “So the bottom line is if it is more infectiouness [sic] now, the issue is who cares? If it is causing more cases in young, my word is who cares…as long as we make sensible decisions, and protect the elderely [sic] and nursing homes, we must go on with life….who cares if we test more and get more positive tests.”

Alexander wrote to Caputo: “There is no other way, we need to establish herd, and it only comes about allowing the non-high risk groups expose themselves to the virus.  PERIOD.” On the same day, he wrote: “Infants, kids, teens, young people, young adults, middle aged with no conditions etc. have zero to little risk….so we use them to develop herd…we want them infected…”

On July 24, he wrote to FDA Commissioner Stephen Hahn and Caputo: “it may be that it will be best if we open up and flood the zone and let the kids and young folk get infected” as a strategy to get “natural immunity…natural exposure,” an argument that illuminates Trump’s insistence this summer that schools and colleges must open.

But the idea that young people are safe from the virus is wrong. Today, an article published in the Journal of the American Medical Association reported that while Americans older than 65 have borne the brunt of the coronavirus, young adults are suffering terribly. From March through July, there were almost 12,000 more deaths than expected among adults from 25 to 44. Young Black and Hispanic Americans make up not just a disproportionate number of that group of victims; they are a majority. Those extraordinary death rates have continued. Younger adults are indeed endangered by the coronavirus; the idea it is harmless to them “has simply not been borne out by emerging data,” doctors Jeremy Samuel Faust, Harlan M. Krumholz, and Rochelle P. Walensky—Biden’s pick to run the CDC-- wrote in the New York Times today.  

Another report today showcases two former CDC political appointees who are now speaking out to call attention to the silencing of career scientists at the agency. Kyle McGowan, a former chief of staff at the CDC, and his deputy Amanda Campbell watched as political appointees in Washington ignored scientists, censored doctors’ messages to the public, and cut the agency’s budget. “It was… like a hand grasping something, and it slowly closes, closes, closes, closes until you realize that, middle of the summer, it has a complete grasp on everything at the CDC,” McGowan told New York Times reporter Noah Weiland. “Every time that the science clashed with the messaging, messaging won.”

Politifact, the Pulitzer Prize winning fact-checking website from the Poynter Institute, named the downplaying and denial of the seriousness of coronavirus its “Lie of the Year.”

Today it became clear the administration dropped the ball in other important ways. We have more information now about the extensive computer hack that appears to have been conducted by operatives from the Russian government. It’s bad. Hackers placed malware on commercial network management software upgrades to gain access to government computers, along with those of major U.S. companies, as far back as last March. They have been able to root around in our secrets for months. Hackers accessed the Treasury and Commerce Departments, the State Department, the Department of Homeland Security, and parts of the Pentagon, among other targets. The intrusion was discovered on December 8, when the cybersecurity company FireEye realized it had been hacked and alerted the FBI.

Today the FBI, the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency (CISA), and the Office of the Director of National Intelligence (ODNI), issued a joint statement acknowledging “a significant and ongoing cybersecurity campaign” and indicated they are not sure yet what has been hit. “This is a developing situation, and while we continue to work to understand the full extent of this campaign, we know this compromise has affected networks within the federal government.” It is clear the U.S. has been hit hard: Trump’s National Security Adviser Robert O’Brien has cut short an overseas trip to come home and deal with the crisis.

In the New York Times, Thomas P. Bossert, Trump’s former Homeland Security Adviser said, “the magnitude of this national security breach is hard to overstate.” He insisted the U.S. must call out Russia for this attack (assuming it is confirmed that that country is, indeed, behind the attack). “Trump must make it clear to Vladimir Putin that these actions are unacceptable. The U.S. military and intelligence community must be placed on increased alert; all elements of national power must be placed on the table.”

“President Trump is on the verge of leaving behind a federal government, and perhaps a large number of major industries, compromised by the Russian government. He must use whatever leverage he can muster to protect the United States and severely punish the Russians.”

The New York Times called this breach “among the greatest intelligence failures of modern times.” Senator Richard Blumenthal (D-CT) called it “stunning.” “Today’s classified briefing on Russia’s cyberattack left me deeply alarmed, in fact downright scared. Americans deserve to know what’s going on,” he tweeted. Blumenthal also recognized the severity of the coronavirus early: he tweeted on February 25: “This morning’s classified coronavirus briefing should have been made fully open to the American people—they would be as appalled & astonished as I am by the inadequacy of preparedness & prevention.”

And yet, there are signs that the country is reorienting itself away from Trump and modern-day Republicanism.

Former New Jersey Governor Chris Christie, previously a staunch Trump supporter, has released an advertisement urging people to wear masks and admitting he was wrong not to wear one at the White House. It seems likely he is eyeing a future presidential run, and clearly is calculating that it is wise these days to distance himself from Trump’s anti-mask politics.

Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY), who has refused to advance a coronavirus relief bill since the House passed one last May, seven months ago, is now trying to make a deal that includes direct payments to Americans hurt by the pandemic. He explained to Republicans today that Republican senate candidates Kelly Loeffler and David Perdue, who are running against Democrats Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff in Georgia, are “getting hammered” because the people want the bill and the Senate is holding it up.

Finally, Bloomberg last night ran a story by journalist Craig Stirling highlighting the work of economists David Hope of the London School of Economics and Julian Limberg of King’s College London, who examined the concept of “supply side economics,” or the “trickle down theory.” This is the economic theory popularized in the 1980s saying it’s best for the economy not to support wages at the bottom of the economy—the demand side—but rather to free up capital at the top—the supply side—because wealthy entrepreneurs will create new jobs and the resulting economic growth will help everyone. This idea has been behind the Republicans’ forty-year commitment to tax cuts for the wealthy.

In their study of 18 countries over 50 years, Hope and Limberg concluded that this theory was wrong. Tax cuts do not, they prove, trickle down. They do little to promote growth or create jobs. Instead, they mostly just help the people who get the tax cuts.

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[kittensinsocks24]

Spinel is one of the best examples of trauma and emotional parental figure abuse I’ve seen in media: an essay nobody asked for

As some may know, the television film special for Steven Universe, appropriately enough titled Steven Universe: The Movie premiered on Cartoon Network last night after being announced one year ago at SDCC. It was here where we would get our first glance at the villain of the film, who we would come to find out upon release is named Spinel. 

I as well watched this stephen university moving picture show. And, despite my initial jokes about “this bendy-and-the-ink-machine lookin’ ass bubblegum bitch”, by the time the credits rolled I looked like a drowned cat, and had wept real tears of pain over this poor, poor strawberry shortcake clown infant. But why? Why was I openly sobbing over a literal one-braincell jester girl with the color palette of magenta printer ink? Then it hit me: Spinel is many things, but she is, most importantly, a great mirror. A mirror for me, and any and all other victims of being taken advantage of by somebody you trust, look up to, and admire, most often than not, parents. 

TW: Spoilers below for Steven Universe: The Movie as well as discussion of abusive guardians, short mentions of physical abuse, and discussion of  emotional manipulation

While it’s true that Spinel is self-proclaimed to have been Pink’s “best friend”, I feel that to a more obvious extent she is coded to have had a parental, one-sided-admiration relationship with Pink. This is confirmed to me by her obvious youthful, playful and childlike behavior in her original state, her clinginess to the person she respects, and most importantly, her unquestioning belief in Pink Diamond’s love and belief in her best interests, despite obvious signals otherwise to an outsider. 

Let’s start at the beginning: Past Spinel is, self-described, “innocent, loving, .....stupid.” Spinel was created, metaphorically and physically, to keep Pink Diamond happy and entertained. Her default state was to naturally seek Pink’s approval, to earn her admiration and joy, similar to how most often a child’s first and prevailing desire is to earn their parent’s approval and love. Despite it not being Spinel’s fault that Pink decided to leave her there with the false hope of her returning, Spinel inherently blames her own naivety and desire for Pink’s love for her current predicament. Maybe if she hadn’t been so trusting, had questioned what Pink was making her do, she wouldn’t have been alone all those years. That’s a feeling I think most trauma victims have looking back at their past selves and childhood, something that further drew me to Spinel’s arc as a metaphor for such. 

“And then she smiled, that’s what I’m after: the smile in her eyes, the sound of her laughter.” 

This is a situation I believe most if not all children of emotionally and/or physically abusive parents can relate to. The tale of an abusive parental relationship often starts off with a parent either having a child they weren’t emotionally mature enough to raise, or, more relevant in Pink’s case, “having” a child for selfish reasons of personal entertainment, or to fill a void in their lives somehow, realizing only too late the independent personhood of their new “toy” outside of them. 

I’ve seen some say that Spinel was understandably left behind because she is shown throughout to be “clingy” and “annoying”, but you know who else frequently has those traits? Children. Especially children before they emotionally mature like Spinel does after her revelation about Pink. I can assure you for a fact that I was a very annoying child. Does that make it right that my parent emotionally withdrew after I was no longer pleasing or entertaining to them? Does that make it right that they hit me? No. 

When Pink first “had” Spinel it’s clear that she genuinely enjoyed her company. Most toxic relationships have this sort of “honeymoon” phase, a time before things were so bad that the victim will often wish to go back to, not unlike Spinel. Even though Pink’s later actions erase any goodwill towards Spinel and make it clear that even in joyful times she never really cared for her, as somebody scarred by trauma Spinel inherently longs to go back to these days even if Pink was not actually as happy or good as she remembers. 

Later on, we as the audience, privy to more knowledge, can see that Pink has grown irritated/bored with Spinel. But Spinel, much like a child, isn’t aware of this. Spinel loves and is devoted to Pink, and if Pink is happy, she is happy for her. Her trust in Pink loving her back and unwavering confidence in her actions blinds her to what is coming next. “Every day was so much fun! At least.... that’s what I thought.....” She even is so confident that Pink loves her back that she is 100% positive Pink will take her along to Earth. 

“I was so excited! A whole new place to play!” 

Pink instructs Spinel to stay put in the garden and not follow her, lying straight to Spinel’s openly trusting face that this request is the start of a “game”. Spinel, again only seeking nothing but the love and admiration of her pseudo-parental figure/person she obviously admires, does so without question. In her mind so full of love and genuine belief that Pink would never do something wrong to her, she never even questions that this may not be a game, that Pink is seeking to dispose of her, or that Pink may not return. Spinel takes Pink fully at her word, and thus waits, and waits, for 6000 years. 

At first, Spinel remains ever the optimist she always is, entrusting that despite the obvious gap in time that Pink, having her best interests in mind, will come back to love and play with her. 

As literal years go by, we can see that despite her best efforts the wait for Pink to “come around” (physically, but also emotionally if we view this as a metaphor) has taken a toll on Spinel. She’s visibly weathered, with tired eyes and a weaker smile. However even though this is clearly not good for her she continues to believe that, yes, Pink does love her and would never hurt her! She will come back! 

Worst of all, and something even more stinging when looked at through the lens of an abuse metaphor, is Spinel’s line during this part of the song:

“Happily wondering, night after night, is this how it works? Am I doing it right?”

Annnnnnd this is where the waterworks really burst for me, folks. Spinel has begun questioning Pink’s actions, but her continued belief that Pink, again, would only do the best for her makes it so Spinel has begun, to some extent, to blame herself for how long it’s taken for Pink to return. Spinel feels perhaps she did something to displease Pink, that she messed up their “game” somehow, and this is why Pink has not returned to love her. She must strive and continue to be the best at this “game” or she is to blame for Pink not wanting to play with her. It’s a powerfully impactful line, but even worse for any child who went through a similar trial-and-error, self-deprecating process of trying to earn their parent’s unachievable love through grades, performance, or going above-and-beyond in any other sort of field. 

Spinel is so desperate to finally get Pink’s love “back” that even though it is straining her mentally and (albeit to a lesser extent) physically, she will continue to do whatever Pink asked and even doubt herself and her ability to do things right if it means even a sliver of potential attention down the line.

Then, Spinel has a watershed moment most every child of an abusive guardian will have: she realizes she’s been abused. Through Steven’s broadcast, Spinel indirectly learns two things: 1, Pink is dead, has been dead, and was never intending on coming back for her even after all of Spinel’s silent years of devotion and trust, and 2, Pink proceeded to give others the love and attention Spinel could never earn despite all she did immediately after moving on and leaving Spinel for dead. 

It is in this moment that Spinel not only physically “snaps” and changes into her much more threatening form seen in Act 1, but that she also breaks. 

Spinel entertained and loved Pink for who knows how long before she disappeared, and even in her absence and the absence of love and affection continued to trust and care for her, and Pink instead simply chose to devote herself to new people, a new place, without them even having to earn her like Spinel did? It’s more than unfair, it rocks Spinel’s worldview.

Emotionally, the revelation that the person she adored, loved, trusted and respected and that she naturally looked up to not only did not care for her but actively chose to love others and ignore her despite all the mentally-taxing devotion Spinel gave her is more than she can bear. 

“You keep on turning pages, for people who don’t care, people who don’t care about you. And still it takes you ages to see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there. Everyone’s gone on without you.” 

Spinel transforms, a transformation symbolic of the venom and bile of her trauma. Despite her cocky attitude and speech about her “new look” upon initially showing up with her injector, Spinel notably is not proud of her new form. She views herself as broken. 

Scarred beyond repair by Pink’s abandonment and actions. Something too messed up and warped to love, unworthy of affection and friendship.

Traumatized.

I’ve never met another person traumatized by parental abuse who didn’t also feel like they were too far gone. A monster, transformed and shaped into something horrible by their abuser’s actions.  

“All that stuff’s easy for you to say! When you change, you change for the better! When I change, I change for the WORSE! I used to just be not good enough, not good enough for Pink,- but NOW, I’m not GOOD AT ALL!” 

~                                 ~                                       ~

“Spinel, you’ve met The Diamonds before, right?”

“Yeah, but.... (notably hesitant) they’ve never seen me like this.” 

With Pink gone, Spinel has nobody direct to confront about her traumas. Without any better coping mechanisms, Spinel’s only desire is to lash out at somebody, anybody for her pain. She specifically chooses Earth and The Crystal Gems for having been the objects of the affection Pink never gave her, despite not actually having a personal relationship with them. 

“Y’know, I came here to take my anger out on a bunch of strangers, [...]”

When I first wisened up to the fact that what my parent did wasn’t normal, wasn’t something I should have gone through as an innocent child, I lashed out at any and everybody I felt was involved in some way. My father for never being around when it happened, never stopping her when it did, never getting her help, never calling CPS. My brother for never having to deal with her wrath, for always raising the bar with his good grades, making it feel harder and harder to earn the love I felt like I had to have.

Spinel’s maladaptive way of handling the situation is an all-too-common chapter in the life of the abused, and something that further strengthens the connection her arc has to real life people in similar situations.

When Steven confronts her that this isn’t the way to handle things, Spinel doesn’t see any other way. She doesn’t feel like she can trust anybody again, and doesn’t feel herself worthy of love. During “Found”, she’s noticeably hesitant and even resistive to Steven’s assurance that she’ll find somebody who truly does love her one day, too scarred by Pink’s deception to open herself up to the idea of healing.

Even when she does, it’s notably a delicate process. After turning off the injector, her own insecurity and trust issues due to her traumatic incident leads her, without any real evidence, to assume that Steven and the Gems value her as little as Pink did. She is both afraid of what she has become, again feeling she is too traumatized to be accepted and loved, and also afraid that they will leave her as easily and quickly as her abuser. 

After failing to ever earn Pink’s love fully and the physical and emotional transformation her trauma has had on her, Spinel doesn’t genuinely believe anybody could ever want her company ever again. 

“I’m the source of all your problems. Don’t pretend you want me here.  What’s your plan for me, huh? Ya gonna put me somewhere? Gonna - LEAVE me somewhere? Gonna LEAVE ME ALONE?”

However, after the emotional catharsis of lashing out, sharing her traumas with Steven, and then spiraling into another emotional rage over what happened to her, Spinel, having begun to process her trauma, realizes that her hurting those only vaguely, tangentially related to her abuser and situation will do nothing to heal the pain inside her, and, more importantly, realizes that doing this is only pushing people away from her and failing to allow herself to open up to loving again. 

And, of course, this is via a breakdown complete with agony-driven laughter, because Rebecca loves rendering me bald and taking an icepick to my similarly traumatized heart.

“(cracking with emotion)....What am I doing? Why do I want to hurt you so bad? I’m supposed to be a friend. .....I just want to be a friend.”

As low of a point as this is for Spinel emotionally, it shows that she has begun the slow but ultimately fulfilling process of healing. This new path continues in her next scene, where she opens herself up to The Diamonds with Steven’s coaxing, despite the person who spurned her having been a Diamond herself (this also easily could be viewed as a metaphor for opening yourself up to trusting mentoring relationships again and finding a healthy new parental relationship in someone either non-blood-related or in other members of your family). 

In probably the most heart-wrenching scene of the movie for me, as The Diamonds reprise their song about opening their hearts up to a new member of their family (this also furthers my argument of spinel = child figure to Pink, considering the last person the trio sung this to was Pink’s literal biological son), Spinel sings part of Found again, finally believing Steven’s statement that she will love again, as she connects and converses with people who genuinely like her despite all she’s been through and become. 

Spinel learns and accepts, for the first time in the movie, that she is worthy of love, and is not too broken or changed by her trauma to receive it. 

And so I cried like the winner of a horseradish paste eating contest. 

In summary, to me, and I’m more than sure to other experiencers of childhood emotional and/or physical abuse at the hands of somebody they trusted, Spinel is one of the best media representations of the complex moods, highs and lows, and experiences of going through, repressing, and processing trauma. Not only that, but unlike some other characters I can think of, Spinel gets a hopeful ending. She’s not so warped and broken that the writers deemed her too far gone and thus only worthy of killing off. No. Spinel is a trauma victim who goes through a dark period of coping in negative ways, but then comes out the other side ready to open herself back up to the idea of healing and moving on from her trauma and abuser. Despite all her baggage and scars, the movie assures us Spinel is just as worthy of a happy ending as any other person. 

And I don’t think I’m alone in saying that if MY pained ass at the beginning of my traumatic processing years ago had seen that I could, that I CAN be okay despite it, that it would have meant so much to me. 

And even though I’m still still learning to love again myself, I think deep down all victims hope we can become our own Spinel someday. 

Somewhere.

Somehow.

We’ll love again. 

TL;DR Rebecca Sugar wrote one of the best arcs about abuse on television ever and its star was a rubberhose baby who sounds like Betty Boop and whos shoes make the spongebob walk cycle noise sample and thats why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

[dashesofink]

Grounded

Drabble: ”A fic request: Bucky/Reader/Loki pairing. Reader is a Sherlock level genius but she extremely silly and a daydreamer and Bucky and Loki are the ones that keep her grounded.”

Pairing: Bucky, Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1169

Warnings: none

They had never met anyone like you, no one had. In all honesty it was scary to see someone of your age as smart as Bruce, if not smarter. Your mind was constantly working, it’s gears running at full speed at every hour of everyday. Your keen eyes were one to quickly spot out something that was off, your mind immediately coming up with a formula to fix whatever was wrong. No challenge was too difficult for you. Well, expect for keeping still.

You didn’t know how else to cope with your whirring mind other than acting out. It wasn’t a bad acting out, just more of a hyperactive, hyperaware acting out thay often got you into trouble. Your jokes were constant, and not one person in the Avengers compound was safe from you and your energetic antics. But if you weren’t running around, your fingers nitpicking at things or itching to hold something, then you were zoned out, your eyes glossing over as you spent however long your mind allowed you to be off in your own little world. No one really knew what to think of you. One minute you could solve the most intricate puzzles, the next you’d be bouncing around the compound before you finally fell into a daze. No one really could figure out how to keep you sane long enough, until they showed up.

Bucky was the first puzzle, you soon figured out. His years spent in the dungeons of a HYDRA compounds left him scarred. He shielded himself from the world, but you were determined to crack the code that had rewired his brain, and to the chargrin of everyone else, you did. You had managed to find a way into his mind, but not with the ill intent to harm him, but to free him from the bonds they held him captive to HYDRA’s ways. Bucky found himself becoming curious about you, about how this seemingly random person was able to break his trance. But he wasn’t the only one to feel the same. Even after giving him peace, you still found yourself coming back to Bucky, but not to study his mind, but to study him. You found him calming, in a way. Even the rest of the Avengers noticed a change in your behavior as you began to stick to Bucky like glue.

You were less frantic, less prone to zoning out when you were bored. In fact, it seemed that Bucky had unlocked something in you, something that made your mind even sharper then it was before. His presence was enough to calm your constantly racing nerves, something that you had always hated. But he calmed you. He made you feel light and feathery, like a lone leaf that got caught in a cool spring breeze. You loved it. And soon you found that you loved him.

But when a new visitor came, one that was related to a certain Asgardian god, it put everyone on edge. Not only did the Avengers find themselves keeping an eye on their own backs, but they also watched your reaction to the mischievous god. You were finally level headed, in the clear from your frantic energy, and they didn’t want that to mess up because Loki didn’t know how to act. But they were surprised. They watched as the god merely eyed you, a glint shining in his eyes as he watched you muddle over your projects. He observed your behavior, catching how the slightest touch from the Winter Soldier seemed to keep you grounded and level-headed, bringing you back from wherever your mind wondered to. Your mind still worked at a million miles per hour though, your eyes catching even the slightest change in behavior and emotion, but your features remained stoic, free of any change.

Thor watched on, anticipation feeling his nerves as he watched his brother creep up behind you. He half expected you to react to the sudden presence, to reel around and attack Loki, but he knew you. You never were one to use your fists to resolve things, your mind was powerful enough to send even the most vile criminal cowering in fear. So when you merely glanced up to Loki, your eyes staring into his curios green ones, Thor felt a sigh of relief fall from him. To make things better for Loki, as well as you, Bucky was sitting nearby, his cold eyes staring blankly towards Loki, almost as if he was warning him to make a move against you.

You simply ignored the god, your eyes returning to your work as you kept silent. His presence wasn’t disturbing, oddly enough. Bucky kept a keen eye on him though, his fingers inching closer to one of your hands until you felt him tug against your fingers. His touch sent a shot of peace through your veins, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up when he gave your fingers anotner slight pull. This continued on for months. Loki standing by as he watched you work with Bucky lingering beside you, at least one part of his body keeping a protective hold on you. It wasn’t until his fifth month at the compound did its residents notice the serene aura that surrounded the three of you.

Some how Loki had weaved his way into your little group. Just as before you were calm, your eyes dancing around from one thing to another as you leaned into Bucky’s side, but you kept quiet. The Avengers had nearly forgotten your old behavior, constant movement or unrelenting chattering whenever you would sit upon the couch. Your usually glazed over eyes smiled up at Bucky, your head falling against his shoulder before you glanced to Loki. He too was sitting quietly by your side, his lip caught gently between his teeth as he watched the television. His hand was held tightly between your own, your fingers dancing against his knuckles gently. It puzzled everyone, to know that he and Bucky had the same tranquilizing affect on you.

The Avengers watched in awe at how grounded you seemed to be. The affect that the two men had on you was astounding. Though your antics had taken a complete 180 degree turn, you mind had seemed to evolve. You were more alert, more active in your head as you worked out problems that were seemingly invisible to the normal eye. No one had a clue as to how that worked, not even Bruce, Tony, or Vision. The Avengers had confided in Stephen Strange, but not even his intelligence could compare to the wiring of your brain. They didn’t push it more than they needed though. The longer you were in the presence of Loki and Bucky the better you seemed to get, and that made them happy.

If you were safe, calm and happy with the two, while still being able to help them, then they were happy too. And they refused to take that away from you.

[danceworshipper]

The End of Jason Chiva - 1996

(I haven't posted a fic on here in a while, huh? Well, have some angst. Gracie and Tessa are 22 in this)

"Charles," Clarissa said, picking up her wine glass, "when do you and my daughter plan on having children?"

Charlie coughed, his steak apparently having gone down the wrong pipe. Gracie smacked his back, which earned her a slight glare.

"Mother, I've told you before, we're not ready," she said. Gracie knew that she was 'behind' her sister in that way, but she also knew she wasn't ready to be a mother.

Clarissa sighed heavily and finished her glass in one go. Margaret, their mother's 'dearest friend', poured her some more.

"Your sister has already given me three grandchildren," Clarissa said. "But you have given me none."

"I've only given you one so far," Tessa corrected.

"Then you have a tumor? I was under the assumption you were pregnant with twins."

Tessa frowned. "It's a high risk pregnancy, Mother. I might still lose them."

"Nonsense," Clarissa said. "You managed Alexander despite being poisoned. You can handle twins."

Gracie looked down at Alexander, who was sitting on Barnaby's lap picking at the vegetables. Barnaby was trying to get him to use a fork, but Alexander very clearly did not want to.

"Rissa, pass me the salt?" Margaret asked. Rissa, not Claire, Gracie noticed. Her father would call her mother Claire.

Clarissa passed over the salt shaker. Gracie knew that Margaret wasn't just her mother's friend. It was obvious with the way the looked at each other. She wondered how long it had been going on; Margaret and her mother had met at Hogwarts. Margaret was very pretty, especially for her age - though, so was Clarissa. Gracie supposed it was a match made in Heaven. Two failed marriages between them, but they seemed very happy together.

She was about to ask Margaret for the salt next, when a loud bang came from the living room. Gracie looked to her mother, but she looked just as confused as the rest of them.

Another loud bang sounded, followed by a smaller one, and a deep voice grunting.

"I thought the wards wouldn't let anyone in without an invitation," Tessa whispered.

"They shouldn't," Clarissa responded just as quietly. "Only family can enter without permission."

Gracie's mind shot to the worst case scenario, and when she looked to Charlie, she knew his did too. Jason Chiva got moved out of Azkaban today to a kinder prison. He was getting older and sicker by the day, and since he had calmed down in the past decade, he qualified for a transfer. Gracie knew better, though. Her father was here, in this house - where he wasn't supposed to be.

Charlie gripped Gracie's arm as she moved to stand up.

"You can't," he said.

"I have to."

Charlie closed his eyes, knowing better than to try and stop her. "Be careful."

Gracie stood up.

"Where are you going?" Clarissa demanded.

"He's probably here for me anyway," Gracie said vaguely.

"No!" Tessa yelped, a little too loudly. Heavy footsteps grew closer.

Gracie slipped through the door and shut it tight behind her. She knew her father's mental state was bad, but just how bad? No one knew. It would be better to not let him see everyone and get overwhelmed.

As she debated moving away from the door, her father rounded the corner. Surprisingly, Jason looked a lot like he did the last time Gracie saw him, though now he was older and skinnier. The stone cold anger behind his eyes though - that was the same.

For a moment Jason didn't seem to realize who he was looking at. His eyes passed right through Gracie as if she didn't exist. For a moment, it felt like he was looking through the door behind her, and he didn't like what he saw.

Then his eyes snapped onto Gracie's.

"You're alive," Jason said.

"I am," Gracie said. "And you're not supposed to be here."

"This is my house," Jason snapped. "No matter what your mother thinks, this house is mine. I set the wards, and they bow to me."

"You should be in prison," Gracie said.

"I was in prison for almost eleven years. I deserve to be free now."

"You're a murderer," Gracie said, ignoring the little voice in her head. We're murderers too, it said. We're no better than him. "You'll never deserve to be free."

"I did this for you, Gracie," Jason said angrily. "You put me in jail for trying to help you!"

"You could have helped so many other ways," Gracie said. "You lost your mind."

Jason moved forward. Gracie held up her wand.

"You'd dare strike your own father?"

"Yes, I would."

"Where is my other daughter?" Jason asked. "Perhaps she'll be happier to see me."

Gracie shook her head. "She's not here."

"Don't lie to me. I know family dinner is on Sunday nights."

"She's not here," Gracie repeated. "She's on vacation in Greece." The lie came out easily.

Jason glared behind Gracie at the door. "My wife, then."

"You know she'd kill you on sight," Gracie said. "You ruined her life for years."

"No, you did!" Jason yelled. "You're the one who got me arrested! I could have been here! I could have loved your mother, and I could have raised you and your sister! You did this!"

"Get out of here," Gracie snarled. "You will not blame me for protecting my family."

Jason's jaw dropped. "You thought I would hurt our family? I would never."

Gracie shook her head. "Just leave. I know the aurors are outside by now."

"Again? You'd abandon me again?"

"You abandoned us the very first day you decided to hurt innocent people!" Gracie snapped. "Get out of this house!"

Jason moved forward again. "You've lied to me, Gracie. I know my daughter is here. I saw her through the window. Who are those men? Are they your husbands?"

"Leave."

"And I saw the little boy, too," Jason continued. "Is he my grandchild?"

"I'll invite the aurors in," Gracie threatened.

"It's a shame my son isn't here as well."

"Jacob is dead!" Gracie yelled. "He died protecting us all!"

Jason's face showed the slightest flicker of emotion. "Where is he buried?"

Gracie swirled her wand to call on the wards. There were three people just outside the property. Thomas, Stephen, and Viola. Let them in, Gracie thought. She hoped they were fast enough.

"You don't love me," Jason said. "That's why you're doing this. I'm going to die in jail, you know."

"I know."

Jason moved forward one more time. He was too close now.

"You've grown into a beautiful woman despite everything," Jason said. "It's a shame I wasn't here to watch it happen."

"You were where you belonged," Gracie said. She had a feeling Jason was going to try and get through the door behind her. She couldn't let him. She couldn't let him hurt anyone else. Where were the aurors?

"I want to see my family, Gracie," Jason said. Her name sounded awful coming out of his mouth. "You're going to let me see my family."

"No."

Jason shoved Gracie into the wall next to her. Her head pounded from the impact, but Gracie managed to keep her eyes open. Hide! she thought at Tessa desperately. She grabbed for Jason's arm to stop him from opening the door, but he snarled and threw her off of him.

Tessa screamed as Jason ripped the door open, and Gracie heard Alexander start to cry, though she couldn't see him or his mother.

"Margaret," Jason seethed. "That's my seat."

Gracie screeched as Jason rushed into the dining room, grabbing Margaret by the neck and squeezing.

"Avada Kedavra!" Gracie cast, impulse kicking in. Jason dropped to the floor, leaving Margaret gasping and looking as though she was about to cry. Gracie stumbled into the room, holding her head and trying not to cry herself. She just killed her father. This wasn't like with Rakepick; she had never liked the woman in the first place. This was her dad. Her dad that had loved her, at least before he went insane. She could have done any other spell. Why had her brain defaulted to that one? An image of Rowan's neck flashed in her eyes and Gracie whimpered. The curse. It still had her.

The aurors ran into the room.

"You're too late," Gracie said weakly. "I had to... I..."

Thomas, whom Gracie recognized from the first time she defied her father, moved to check Jason's body.

"It's alright," he said. "At least no one else is hurt."

Gracie looked around the room. Her mother and Margaret were holding each other - but only Margaret looked upset. Clarissa almost looked relieved. Tessa was holding Alexander behind Barnaby, whose arms were out to block her. They all stared at Thomas and the others as they did whatever they were doing with the body. Charlie, though - Charlie was staring at Gracie with what could be mistaken for pride in his eyes.

"I'm sorry this happened," the woman, Viola, announced. "We'll take care of him for now. Clarissa, we'll owl you when we're able to release the body for burial."

Clarissa made no answer. Her eyes were hard.

The aurors left, taking Jason's body with them.

"Gracie," Charlie said, coming up behind her. "Is your head okay?"

Gracie removed her hand and saw a small bit of blood.

"I just want to go home," Gracie admitted.

Charlie took note of the blood and winced. "Can we call Chiara over for your head?"

"If we have to."

Tessa made eye contact with Gracie. She felt Tessa's legillimancy link up to hers. It's okay. You did the right thing.

I could have just stunned him.

You're okay, Tessa thought more firmly.

Gracie looked away and shut her mind down. She wasn't okay. She just killed again even though she swore she never would. She was a murderer and nothing could change that.

"We're going home," Charlie said. "I'll call you, Barnaby."

"Okay," Barnaby responded.

Charlie gripped Gracie's hand. They spun. The pressure hit Gracie too hard, and she collapsed when they landed. She barely heard Charlie call Chiara.

[hollymartinswrites]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Domestic, Light Angst, Family Feels, Childhood Trauma, Adoption, Kid Fic, Adopted Children, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Marriage, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Parents, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends Summary:

Eddie and Richie embark on the most terrifying experience of all—parenthood.

Or, the author desperately needed a domestic, family fix-it for Richie and Eddie.

Chapter II: A look into Richie and Beverly's friendship as parenthood is thrown into the mix.

“How many godfathers can one kid have?”

“Richie, we’re agnostic.”

“Hey, I believe in God, I just don’t trust organized religion,” Richie replied, hanging the framed Princess Leia poster before stepping back to observe it. “Or any organizations, now that I think about it.”

“It’s crooked. Move it to the right like an inch,” Eddie said. “And she doesn’t need godparents.”

“Course she does,” Richie said, maneuvering the frame slowly as if it were a tempermental bomb. “I mean, obviously Bev will be godmother and I guess that means Ben should be godfather but we can’t play favorites with the guys like that.”

“Did you have godparents? And it’s straight now, quit messing with it.”

“Yeah,” Richie said. “My great uncle Jim and my mom’s cousin Valerie. I’ve told you about her before. She took me to my first Pride when I was twenty because surprise, she was a lesbian and no one knew. Even though she and her roommate Laura shared a one bedroom apartment in New York.”

Eddie laughed and shook his head.

“I’d pay money to see you at Pride as some lanky, awkward kid,” he said.

“Oh man,” Richie said, grinning, “I was such a twink back then.”

“And what the hell are you now?”

Richie shrugged.

“I don’t know. Sloppy otter? Is that still a thing?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy,” Eddie said. He gazed around the room and his smile widened. “I gotta say, this is a pretty awesome kid’s room.”

“Hell yeah it is,” Richie replied, stepping beside his husband and putting his arm around his shoulders. “She’s gonna love it.”

They were both silent for several long moments, content to simply be in one another’s presence in their child’s room when Richie squeezed Eddie’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe it’s finally happening,” he admitted softly.

“I know,” Eddie agreed. “You’re gonna be a good dad.”

Richie colored briefly before gently hip-checking Eddie.

“So are you,” he said.

Eddie merely smiled.

Richie picked up the phone on the second ring.

“Bev!” he shouted.

“Richie!” she shouted back, laughing. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, exhausted, covered in glitter, and haven’t showered in days,” he replied. Lydia lifted up her latest drawing and he gave her a thumbs up. She grinned and grabbed another piece of construction paper. “So just like college all over again.”

Bev laughed.

“I wish we went to college together,” she said wistfully.

“Oh, we’d be expelled instantly if some university was stupid enough to accept both of us,” he said. “So what’s going on?”

“Well, I finally had time to sit and watch all the videos you sent yesterday,” she answered. “And I have to say, Lydia is the sweetest, smartest, cutest kid I’ve ever seen.”

“Aw,” Richie said. He moved the phone away from his mouth and loudly whispered, “Lyds, my friend Bev thinks you’re cute and smart and sweet.”

“Who’s Bev?” Lydia asked.

“My friend, you’ll meet her soon.” Richie returned the phone to his ear. “When are you and Ben coming by?”

“Soon, I hope,” she said. “Ben’s finishing up a big project but this summer should be free and clear. What about the other Losers?”

“I don’t know, I want to do a BBQ with all of you so you can meet Lydia at the same time,” he said.

“I don’t like BBQ,” Lydia pointed out. “I like macaroni and cheese.”

“I’ll make macaroni and cheese, I promise,” Richie said.

“You cook now?” Bev asked.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he shot back. “I had been surviving on my own for twenty years, thank you.”

“I just can’t believe you’re a dad now,” Bev sighed wistfully.

“Well, you better believe it because I lost the receipt so this kid is nonrefundable,” he said, reaching out and tussling her hair, causing her to playfully bat away his hand.

Bev laughed.

“You sound happy, you know that?” she said.

Richie blinked. He hadn’t really thought about it but he supposed he was. A warm wave filled his chest.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Am I making Trashmouth emotional?”

“No way,” he insisted. “I never get emotional and I definitely did not cry when we watched Moana the other night.”

“Yes, you did, Papa!”

“Shh!”

Bev laughed again and Richie grinned.

“Don’t worry, Ben cries at everything so your secret is safe with me,” she said. “I’m going to talk to him tonight about vacation days. You have to let us know when you’re free, though.”

“We’ll make it work, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, but I know Eddie’s always busy at work and you two are the ones with a kid.”

“We’ll make it work,” Richie repeated.

“I feel kinda bad though,” Bev admitted. “Won’t Lydia be overwhelmed by a welcome party filled with grown-ups?”

Richie blinked again. He hadn’t thought about that. He glanced at his daughter, happily tracing her hand on a piece of pink paper and swallowed.

“She has some friends from her school,” he said slowly. “I can invite them for her.”

“I just don’t want her bored or frightened,” Bev continued. “I remember the few times my dad took me to see family, I was the only kid. I hated it. Everyone talking over you and then yelling if you dared to look bored.”

Richie swallowed again and looked down at the table. He had always hated it when Bev spoke of her father but he was smart enough to know to shut up and listen.

“Anyway,” she said brightly, “I just want her to have fun.”

“She will. We’ll make it fun.”

“And Ben and I already got her a bunch of presents.”

“Oh no,” he groaned. “We specifically said no presents.” Lydia’s head immediately shot up, eyes wide and bright. “She’s spoiled enough as it is.” Lydia shook her head fervently.

“And send us her size, I saw some super cute clothes the other day,” Bev continued.

“Bev, no—”

“Yes, Richie,” she insisted. “I love you but I’m ignoring you.”

“Bev, I swear—”

“I gotta go,” she said quickly. “I love you, Trashmouth.”

Richie sighed but smiled warmly.

“I love you, too,” he replied gently.

“And I love Lydia even without meeting her yet.”

Richie’s heart did something intense, and it knocked the breath out of him.

“Richie?”

“Yeah, no, thanks, Bev,” he said quickly.

“Alright,” she said, laughter in her voice. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Richie placed his phone on the table and tried to gather his thoughts. It was harder than usual.

“Look at this one, Papa,” Lydia announced, lifting another colorful and glittery drawing. A large percentage of said glitter slipped off and fell onto the table. “Oops.”

“That’s a beaut,” he said and sniffed. “My friend Bev said she loves you.”

“That’s nice,” Lydia replied. “And she bought me presents?”

“Yeah, but you don’t need anything.”

“But maybe she got me something I don’t have,” Lydia pointed out.

“Airtight logic, as usual, kiddo,” Richie admitted.

Lydia smiled and clapped her hands together in an attempt to clear them of glitter, frowning when it did nothing.

“I think we gotta hose you down,” Richie observed. He glanced at the clock. “And soon, before your dad walks in and has a conniption.”

“What’s a conniption?”

“It’s what happens when your dad comes home and sees what a mess your papa has made,” Richie answered, standing. “Come on, let’s get you and all of this cleaned up.”

Richie finished loading the dishwasher, closed it, set it, and immediately sat down in the closest chair, suddenly exhausted. He barely flinched when he felt arms curl around his shoulders and a chin rest on the top of his head.

“You okay, buddy?” Bev asked gently.

“Yeah, just tired,” he replied. “Too much excitement for one day.”

Bev nodded and leaned down to place a kiss on his head.

“You sure you’re good?” she asked again.

“Yeah, but just...can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can you tell me if my hair is thinning up there?”

Bev laughed and flicked his ear.

“No, it’s as thick and messy as ever,” she replied. “But you do still have a fivehead.”

“Shut up.”

Bev squeezed his shoulders and then sat in the empty chair closest to him. A golden glow from the setting sun streamed through the open windows, and they could hear the rest of the party—Losers catching up and laughing and children shrieking with delight at whatever delighted five-year-olds—but it was mercifully quiet in the kitchen.

“I’m glad you invited her friends,” Bev said. “She needed some people her age to counterbalance all of us boring grown-ups.”

Richie nodded.

“Yeah, but she had fun with you and Ben earlier,” he said. “I guess she’s used to being the only kid around with just me and Eddie.”

“Do you think you guys will adopt again?”

Richie swallowed and shrugged.

“I don’t know, I mean, we’re still getting the hang of having just one kid,” he sighed. “But I wouldn’t want her to be an only child. They’re kinda weird, no offense.”

Bev laughed.

“They’re also lonely,” she pointed out, “so I wouldn’t recommend it for her, either.”

Richie felt compelled to hug her but settled for taking one of her hands in both of his, resting them on the table. They were both silent for a long moment, and he tried to ignore the fact that Bev was gazing at him expectantly before he cleared his throat.

“Bev, I…I’m scared.”

She quirked her head to the side and gazed at Richie with mild confusion on her face.

“Scared of what, Rich?”

“Fucking everything,” he admitted, not meeting her eyes. “What if I’m in over my head?”

Bev squeezed his hands.

“I’m not a parent,” she offered gently, “but I think that’s a common side effect.”

Richie sighed and shook his head.

“And you’re not doing this alone,” Bev continued, reaching out with her free hand to brush a strand of hair behind his ear. “You’ve got Eddie. The two of you are doing a great job. You can tell just by looking at Lydia.”

Richie’s chest tightened.

“Lydia’s amazing,” he admitted. “But she was amazing when we adopted her.”

“Rich—”

“And Eddie...” he swallowed and looked up at Bev, “I’m scared I forced him into something he didn’t want.”

Bev appeared genuinely shocked.

“Richie, that’s impossible,” she insisted.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think for even one second Eddie would move across the country and endure years of all that bureaucratic bullshit and constant, needling, in-depth assessments from social workers for something he didn’t want?”

Richie swallowed and looked down again.

“He loves you,” Bev said gently, leaning in closer to her friend, “but he doesn’t love you that much.”

That startled a laugh out of Richie. He wiped at his nose and sniffed. Bev used her free hand to wipe at his face.

“You’re just tired,” she observed. “Tired and overwhelmed at having all of us here and showing off Lydia.”

“Hey, do you guys have any...what’s going on?”

They both looked up. Ben was standing in the doorway looking not unlike a deer caught in the headlights.

“Nothing, nothing,” Bev said quickly.

“Yeah, nothing, just your girlfriend bullying me about my forehead, that’s all,” Richie replied. Ben smiled but he still looked unconvinced. Richie continued, “You need something, dude?”

“Oh, yeah, just wanted to grab a drink,” Ben said.

Richie motioned towards the fridge and Ben opened it, reached in, and pulled out a juicebox. He glanced down at it in his hand and then smirked at Richie, his eyebrows raised.

“Hey, don’t knock it, mix that with a little vodka, fucking delicious,” Richie insisted. “That’s how I get through Lydia’s gymnastics classes.”

Bev smirked and slapped him lightly on the knee, earning a yelp from Richie. Ben shook his head, still smiling, closed the fridge door, and immediately pushed the straw through the top of the juicebox and sipped.

“Hmm,” he said after a few moments’ consideration, “not bad, actually.”

“See?” Richie replied. “There are some benefits to having a kid.” Ben sat at the table beside him and affectionately patted him on the shoulder. Richie glanced at him and bit the bullet. “So, not to sound totally straight, but are you guys thinking about having kids?”

Ben’s eyes widened and his lips tightened around the straw. Bev rolled her eyes.

“We don’t know, Rich,” she said gently. “Though we are running out of time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m well over forty.”

“We’re all well over forty.”

Bev gave him a pointed look and realization washed over Richie’s face.

“Oh, yeah,” Richie muttered. “Who gives a shit? I read about a woman in India who had a baby at seventy.”

“I don’t plan on going for that,” Bev laughed.

“Besides, you and Eddie have inspired us to at least look into adoption,” Ben replied.

“Oh yeah?” Richie said. “Nice. Well, if you need advice, talk to Eddie. I’m a mess.”

“Richie…”

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “I know we only got approval because of him.”

“Come on, that’s not—”

“It is true. I mean, who would you let raise a kid? A shitty and foul-mouthed comic with crazy hours and a drinking problem he only just got under control or the responsible, completely organized nerd in polo shirts?”

Ben and Bev were both silent and Richie realized he had, once again, gone too far. He racked his mind to rectify the situation—a joke, an impression, a scream, anything—when he was saved by the backdoor opening and Eddie appearing in the doorway.

“Hey, Lydia’s friends are getting picked up,” he said. “You wanna come say goodbye with me?”

Richie stood.

“Sorry, folks, parenting duty calls,” he said casually and offered a lop-sided grin before leaving Ben and Bev in the kitchen.

He’s late.

What time is it by you?

7:32.

Well, didn’t he say he had a dinner meeting?

Yeah, at 5. wtf

I’m sure he’s just sitting in traffic. He’ll be home soon. Don’t worry.

I’m not worried. I’m fucking pissed.

He can’t help it if work is crazy, sweetheart.

He could’ve called out. I’m by myself over here, neck deep in snotty tissues and crying kids.

Richie glanced up from his phone at the sound of keys in the front door. Fucking finally, he thought. The door opened and closed and it seemed to Richie that Eddie purposely took a long time to get from the foyer to the living room, where he was sitting on the couch with Lydia’s feet in his lap and their youngest curled up against his side, drooling onto his shirt. They were still passed out, mercifully.

Eddie walked into the living room and quietly stepped up to the couch.

“Hey,” he whispered. “How are the girls?”

“Lydia’s fever broke,” Richie sighed, “but I think it’s going into her chest. She keeps coughing. And Tess is just congested and keeps puking up the medicine so that’s been fun.”

“She hasn’t kept any of the medicine down?”

Richie shook his head and shoved his fingers beneath his glasses, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Fuck, we gotta get her to take it,” Eddie said.

“No shit,” Richie snapped. He tensed when Lydia stretched in her sleep but she remained asleep.

“I read about another brand online today,” Eddie said, leaning down to run his fingers through Tess’s dark hair. “Supposedly it doesn’t have any of that artificial flavoring shit. That’s probably what’s making her sick.”

Richie shrugged, too exhausted to even comment. Eddie glanced at him, raising an eyebrow before continuing, “I’ll pick some up on the way home tomorrow.”

Richie’s head shot up and he stared at Eddie, stunned.

“You’re going into work tomorrow?” he asked dumbly.

“I gotta, but just for half a day. I’ll be home early.”

“Like you were today?”

Eddie straightened and shook his head.

“I’m too tired for this right now,” he sighed.

Richie’s eyes widened. For a moment, he couldn’t see straight.

“You’re too tired?” he repeated, his voice strained.

Lydia moved again, sighing in her sleep before being rattled awake by a violent cough. Richie and Eddie both reached for the glass of water on the coffee table, but Lydia got to it first before immediately gulping down half of it.

“Easy, kiddo,” Eddie murmured, taking the glass from her when was done. “How are you feeling?”

Lydia answered by coughing again, covering her mouth with her arm like her dad had showed her. Tears sprang to her eyes and her nose began running. Richie handed her the tissue box and ran his fingers through her unruly curls.

“My throat won’t stop tickling,” she finally gasped out.

“Your sinuses are draining, that’s probably it,” Eddie said before reaching towards his briefcase he had left on the floor. He opened it and brought out a bag of cough drops. “I made sure to get the lemon ones.” He unwrapped and handed her one, and she immediately popped it in her mouth before settling back down on the couch.

Richie glanced over at Tess. She hadn’t even stirred from the commotion. He was also quite sure some of the drool on his shirt was snot, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Look, you’re home now, I’m gonna go take a shower, okay?” he said, gently moving Lydia’s feet off his lap and placing a pillow beside Tess. Without waiting for an answer, he hurried to the bedroom, leaving Eddie staring after his retreating back.

Richie, admittedly, took a particularly long shower but he felt he deserved it. A full day and a half of battling germs, miserable kids, and the occasional pukefest could wear a man out. Eddie’s extra-early alarm this morning certainly didn’t help, nor did his apparent reluctance to pick up the phone. Richie allowed himself one bang against the shower wall with his fist before concentrating on his breathing and allowing the warm water to undo the tension in his body. Fuck, he was tired.

Turning off the shower, he gingerly stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist before heading into the bedroom, where Eddie was waiting for him.

“You talk to Bev about what a shitty husband I am?” he said in an oddly calm voice.

Richie blinked. Then he noticed his cell phone in Eddie’s hand. Shit. Deflect, Tozier.

“You went through my phone?” he shot back. “And you left the girls alone?”

“Tess is still asleep and Lydia is watching TV,” Eddie answered and took a step towards Richie. “And your phone went off with a text from Bev that had my name in it. Of course I fucking looked, you’d do the same.”

Richie frowned. Eddie, was usual, was right.

“Bev and I talk all the time,” he said, brushing past him to their bureau and began searching for pajamas. “You know that.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And you talk to her and the guys,” Richie continued. “What’s the fucking difference?”

“I don’t bitch and moan about you to them.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t share private things with them.”

Richie whirled around, which was a bit difficult considering he was still stepping into his pajama pants. “Private things?” he repeated. “You being late on a day where I really fucking needed you isn’t exactly intimate information. What’s the big deal?”

Eddie swallowed and shook his head.

“Well, I don’t like it,” he admitted.

Richie huffed a laugh.

“I don’t like that you care more about work than your family but we all got our crosses to bear, right?” he snapped. “So forgive me for letting off a little steam to someone who actually cares.”

Eddie stared at him, his eyes wide and impossibly bright. Richie looked away, grabbed the first t-shirt he could find in the bureau and put it on.

“I’m gonna go sit with the kids,” he muttered. “Text Bev back for me and tell her everything’s fucking fine.”

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him as he stalked out of the bedroom and tried his best to school his face when he approached the couch but by the sidelong glance his daughter gave him, he knew he had done a poor job of it.

[18silverwolf]

Jeremy Gilbert Imagines:  Imagine 19: You were killed by a vengeful vampire who was after Jeremey

(This is gonna be a sad imagine so head up and get your tissues ready hope you enjoy it)

You grew up with the Gilbert's. Your mum was best friends with Mrs Gilbert but you were the same age as Jeremy. You were best friends you did everything together. you were also like Elena's little sister that she never had.

One night you were meant to be at Jeremy's place having a movie night that you guys have both being doing since kindy. Once you got to his house you saw their aunt Jenna  about to leave.

Y/n POV:

"Hey Jenna" I said as I walked up to her with a smile on my face. "Oh hey Y/n, are you here for your movie night with Jeremy?" She asked "Yes" you said she opened the house up and let me in. "Jeremy isn't home yet but he should be home soon" she said "That's okay i'll just wait for him" I said she nodded before she left. I walked into the house and walked into his room and placed my bag down on the floor before going back down stairs and making sure the door was locked before sitting down on the couching and turning the TV on to watch a movie on Netflix.

I looked at the time it was now 7 pm at night i have been sitting here for the past 5 hours and I have watched 3 movies and Jeremy was still no where in sight. Did he stand me up? I thought. I decided to go up to his room and go for a shower and get into my pj's.

Once I was done I went back downstairs but was greeted by a tall guy who i didn't recognise who was suddenly in front of me in a blink of an eye.  his eyes were black. I knew he was a vampire there was no way i would win if i tried to fight against him.  Dammit why didn't i just stay at home i thought suddenly i felt pain to the back of my head and all i saw was darkness as my eyes closed.

I woke up and i was tired and tied to the chair, The vampire was rambling on about something Jeremy did but i couldn't focus because of the constant ache in the back of my head. suddenly he was in my face his eyes were pitch black and his fangs came out and he slammed them into my neck I could feel him draining me of my blood which made me feel more tired then what i did before, Suddenly I felt my body starting to give up because it was clear that i was dying he was making sure he didn't leave a drop of blood in my body.  As he pulled away from my neck i took my last breath.

Jeremy's POV:

I was sitting with Bonnie in the Mystic falls grill when my aunt Jenna walked in "Oh hey Jeremy, I thought you would be at home by now with Y/n for your movie night" She said "Wait what , OH no i completely forgot, Bonnie  i am so sorry but i gotta go." I quickly said as i ran out of the grill and ran all the way home once i got there the front door was wide open. I was confused so before going in i called Damon and Stefan who was at my house in no time.

"apparently Y/n was waiting for me as we were meant to have a movie night but i forgot and went to the grill with Bonnie, and i just got back and the front door is opened and knowing y/N she would have locked it" I said all in one breath. "Its gonna be okay Jeremy" Stefan said as he placed his hand on my shoulder. "I'll go in you two stay out here" Damon said as he walked into the house he must have checked the whole house using his super speed because he was outside in under 5 mins. Damon looked worried, concerned and mad, "Damon what's wrong?" Stephen said.

Damon didn't say anything, I knew something was up i started to run into the house when suddenly Damon has grabbed "Damon let me go" Stefan walked in side while Damon kept me outside until Stefan came back outside "Jeremy, whatever decision you make Damon and I will be there by your side but before we let you inside you need to know that Y/n has been killed by another vampire who has drained all of her blood, its your choice whether you see her or you don't" Stefan said looking at me intently trying to figure out what my move is.

I pushed past Stefan and ran inside there she was sitting lifeless in a chair that she was still tied to, she looked as if this person tortured her before ending her life. This is all my fault i should have been here, It should have been me, I could have protected her. all these thoughts ran through my head.

I didn't even realise that i was crying until i felt my knees hit the ground with a loud thud and Damon was by my side in an instant. Suddenly we hear a scream from behind us. There Stood Caroline, Bonnie and Elena. Elena came running over and wrapped me in her arms. "This was my fault Elena, I should have been here and not at the grill with Bonnie. She was only here because i forgot to cancel our movie night, I forgot about her and now shes gone" I sobbed into my sister's shoulder who was rubbing my back trying to comfort me but it wasn't working the guilt I felt was killing me.

Damon Helped Elena get me onto the couch where I must have fallen asleep. Because when I woke up Y/n's body wasn't there maybe it was all a dream, a nightmare.

I walked up to my room and saw her backpack on my bedroom floor. I saw here necklace the one that i gave her as her birthday present. I picked it up and on it there was blood.  I ran back down stairs only to come face with Damon. "where's y/n?" I asked he looked at me. "We had to take her to the mansion Jeremy" he replied. "I came back to check on you, you fell asleep on the couch after you cried on your sister until you did" Damon said. "I found this" I said as i held up y/n's necklace.

"Good we could use it" Damon said "Use it for what?" I asked confused "that necklace could help us find the bastard that tried to kill her" Damon said. "Then what are we waiting for lets go" I said as I grabbed my cross bow and other essentials before we both walked out of the house.

We went to the Salvatore Mansion where Bonnie was considering she was the only witch we knew who would help us. As we walked through the door Bonnie was sitting beside Elena trying to comfort her because she had tears in her eyes.  

Once we walked in Elena noticed us, she stood up and came and hugged me. I hugged her back while Damon asked "Bonnie can you use a tracking spell on this necklace to find the vampire that killed Y/N?" "I'm sorry Damon but even if i could i wouldn't be able to hold it long enough to find the right vampire" she replied.

All anger and revenge in my body seemed to disappear when i saw a familiar figure standing behind Bonnie, As i looked closer i saw her the girl that I should have protected earlier tonight, she smiled at me and started to walk up towards Damon's room.

Did she want me to follow her. I didn't realise that I had whispered her name into Elena's ear until i heard Elena's voice speak "Jeremy Y/n isn't here" I ignored her and continued to walk up the stairs and into Damon's room when I saw her standing by the window.

"Jeremy" she said, she never once looked at me. "Y/n? how is this possible?" I asked as I started to walk closer towards her. "I don't know" she said "Y/n i am so sorry that i wasn't there to protect you" I said as she looked at me "Jeremy its not your fault you didn't know that was gonna happen, just promise me you won't do anything stupid" She said i nodded "I promise" I replied.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door i turned around to face the door to see who was walking in, which was Elena and Damon. when i turned back to the window she was gone.

I stared at the spot i last seen her in until Elena touched my shoulder "Are you okay Jeremy?" she asked "Yea" I replied as i nodded still staring at the window. "Jeremy what are you looking at?" Damon asked "Nothing" I replied.

I now understood why she was here, she wanted to let me know not to blame myself nor go after the vampire who killed her. Because she would want me to move on. But she also wanted me to know that she was okay. I smiled as i looked back on last time at the window, knowing that she will always be by my side until i see her again.

The end

Thank you guys for reading sorry it took me a little bit to long to update.

I have uni starting back up soon so i probably won't be updating regularly anyway.

Peace

SW out

[imbeccablee]

5, 8, 13, and 19!

(this got a little long so im putting it under a read more)

5. Share one of your strengths

rex my good dude you could NOT have picked a harder thing for me to do. how dare you try and make me compliment myself.

anyway, uhhhhh probably my overactive imagination? or something? like, honestly, i’m kinda constantly thinking about my WIPs or possible fics (which is obvious if you look at all the abandoned one shots in my drafts lmao). But like, I’m always thinking about stuff to write and that has led to some of my favorite fics i’ve written, like Warm Pancakes or smth.

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and why you’re proud of it

“Um,” Krel hesitated, the question burning his throat. He tried another approach. “Could I… stay with you, tonight?”

Aja rubbed one of her eyes, propping herself up with her two right arms. “Huh? I mean, yes, but why?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Aja nodded like that was an acceptable answer and slid over to make more room. Grateful, Krel crawled beside her and sighed in relief as Aja’s arms wrapped around him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Krel turned his head so his face was half buried in one of Aja’s pillows.

Aja giggled sleepily, rubbing her hands up and down Krel’s back. “That’s okay, little brother, we do not have to talk. We can just sleep.”

She closed her eyes again and her hands stilled on his back. He looked at her for a few moments before sighing. “Aja, um…”

“Are you implying Princess Aja is bondless?”

“Yes?” Aja’s eyes were open again, looking at him patiently, oblivious to how the light gray and void black mocked him.

“I’m just saying it’s very much in the realm of possibility. “I mean, think about it. Aja passes the time in which children normally have their corebonded declared, and suddenly the royals are incredibly hush-hush about the subject? 

And, well, I guess it doesn’t exactly matter, what with Prince Krel and all. It’s not like when you’re a royal there’s any real reason to have a second kid than to have a backup in case the first one doesn’t work out for whatever reason."

“Um…” Krel faltered. “Do you ever think about where your corebonded might be?”

Minutely, Aja froze. If he hadn’t been so close to her, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. “Er,” she stammered. “O-Of course, Krel, who doesn’t?”

“Well,” Krel paused, the words stuck in his throat. “Most Akiridions, apparently, since they find their corebonded when they’re young.” Aja flinched. “And I just… I just wonder about ours,” Krel plowed on. “Like… imagine, being brought before the royals of Akiridion-5 and it being revealed that you are cosmically bonded with one of the royals’ children.” He forced out a laugh. “That’d be—That’d be crazy, right? Imagine.”

“Krel…”

“And then… I was just thinking about how devastating it would be if that were to never happen,” he said, and Aja stared at him. He swallowed hard and continued. “I was just thinking about how there might not be some Akiridion kid who walks up those steps to Mama and Papa and is declared to be bonded to one of us. I was thinking about how, when our ceremonies happen, what if one of us doesn’t find our match on Akiridion-5. I was thinking about how we might not… find them at all.”

Aja’s lips were pursed together now, and for a moment she just stared at him. Then, “Krel, you know that’s not—”

“Aja, why didn’t Mama and Papa declare your corebonded?” Krel interrupted.

“That’s—I—”

“Why haven’t I met them yet, at least?” Krel continued. “Why haven’t you explained how pretty everything is in color yet? You’re passed the age where they find out, right? So what happened?”

“Krel, nothing happened!” Aja cut in. She sat up abruptly and moved away from him, and Krel immediately missed the comfort that came from her close presence. “It’s just—complicated.”

“I don’t get it!” Krel sat up too. “Why are Mama and Papa breaking tradition and waiting to declare ours?”

“Because—”

“Why were you so tense at the announcement todelson?”

“That’s—”

“Everyone has a corebond—right?—so why haven’t you found yours yet?”

“Because I might not have one!” Aja finally shouted. She flinched and looked away from Krel’s surprised expression, her hands balling into fists.

Krel stewed in their silence, feeling both ashamed and desperate for a different answer. Finally, his sympathy won out. “I’m… sorry, Aja, I shouldn’t have been so forceful.”

Aja sighed and tucked some hair behind her ear. “No, it’s… I would’ve been curious too…” She opened her fists and looked down at them. “Mama and Papa said that them not finding my corebonded doesn’t mean anything besides that they’re not Akiridion. They said it was totally and completely okay and normal for this to happen, but…” She shook her head. 

“But… you kind of feel like you’ve let them down?” Krel guessed. He mimicked Aja's position, wrapping his arms tightly around his knees. “And that they were just saying that to make you feel better?”

“Er, yeah.” Aja looked up, surprised. “But why do you…” Krel gave her a lopsided smile, a look in his eye saying you know. “Oh, Krel, you know they’re so proud of you. They love you so much.”

Krel sighed and looked at his feet. “Yeah. I know. It’s just hard to really feel it sometimes, especially when I also know I’m not what Papa really wanted in a son. I’m not exactly your average prince.”

Aja giggled and punched his arm lightly. “Who would want an average prince when they could have a genius one like you?”

Krel smiled, still sad, but grateful. “Thanks, Aja.”

“So…” She sidled up beside him again, leaning against her propped up knees to look him in the eye. “Are you gonna tell me what brought on the corebond stuff?”

“I…” Krel broke eye contact. “I overheard some of the staff talking a couple delsens ago and it… I dunno, I guess it got to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing too weird, I guess, it’s just…” Krel shook his head. “They were talking about you… and your possible corebonded.”

“Oh.” Aja looked put out again.

“And then…” Krel continued. “They… started talking about me.”

Aja’s face switched from melancholic to furious so quickly Krel reeled back a little. “What did they say about you?” she growled and Krel felt a little better knowing Aja would so quickly defend his honor.

“Not a lot,” he quickly replied. “Just… Well, they just implied something, and it’s making me feel… weird.”

“... What was it?” Aja asked slowly.

Krel rubbed at the faintly glowing gray lines going around his feet. “When they were talking about you, they implied that Mama and Papa wouldn’t have wanted you as their heir because of your corebonded. Which isn’t true of course!” Krel quickly amended, seeing something dark cross through Aja’s eyes. “But… then they said that was where I came in. That I… was only made in case something went… wrong with you because it wasn’t likely that I, too, would have a non-Akiridion corebonded, and that it was “only right that only Akiridions take the throne”.”

Aja laid a hand on one of Krel’s. “Oh, Krel, that’s not true at all.”

“I… know,” he said, but he hesitated and Aja noticed too.

“Mama and Papa love you, Krel,” she insisted.

“I know,” Krel said. “I don’t… I normally don’t doubt that.” Aja gave him an exasperated look that he ignored. “It’s just… all I can think about now.”

“Don’t listen to some gossip, little brother, it means nothing. Who cares what a few staff members think? We are a family, and nothing will ever get in the way of that." Aja shrugged then. "Besides, I'm sure they only say that sort of stuff to let out some anger. I mean, we may be wonderful people, but even the most patient Akiridion would get frustrated after waiting hand and foot on us all delson, right? I know I would."

Krel laughed a little, the coil of tension in his spine relaxing some. Aja smiled gently at him, though he could see the worry in her eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Krel said.

Aja giggled. “Of course I am. I’m your older sister.” Krel smiled and relaxed further when Aja wrapped two arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. She leaned her head against his and Krel softly sighed, the emotions that had kept him wound up for most of the delson finally dispersing and leaving him quite exhausted. Although his concerns hadn't completely gone away, he did feel better after talking about it.

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s comfort, for a long time. When they finally did move, Krel bashfully asked, “Can I still stay the night?” to which Aja replied, “Of course, dummy.”

They laid back down and cuddled closer. A few moments passed after they relaxed and Krel said, “... Thank you, Aja.”

Aja hummed then replied, “Any time, little brother. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

---

this is from my Tales of Arcadia fic, Starcrossed, from the first chapter. i dunno, i just really loved how this turned out! i had spent a lot of time on the whole chapter before i finally posted it, and i think i really nailed what i was trying to establish with their relationship with each other, their parents, and themselves. i reread it a lot, along with Warm Pancakes.

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Probably the one that’s like, write the thing you want to read. Forcing yourself to write something you think others would want can be miserable, and like writing should be a good thing. You should be proud of the stuff you wrote and look back on your old stuff fondly. It’s ten times easier writing the stuff you want to write than making yourself write stuff you think other people want.

19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

ah probably not? like, what defines a muse? i write because i like to write and because i need to vent somehow and because i’m good at it. i guess you could say i’m my own muse, in that case.

[doctorstrangeaskblog]

Doctor Strange’s Powers Week!

<<< Seraphim Shield, Grinsom Bands of Cyttorak, Eldritch Whip, Rings of Raggadorr <<<Bolts of Balthakk <<<Portals <<<Eldritch Barrier

TODAY IS GOING TO BE VERY TRIPPY! AND IT HAS TO DO WITH CONTEMPORANEOUS PHYSICS!

Today we’ll talk about…

Rings of Raggadorr

Winds of Watoomb

Eldritch Whip

Eldritch Sword

Seraphim Shield

Grinsom Bands of Cyttorak

Bolts of Balthakk

Images of Ikonn

Teleport (short distances) (Thor Ragnarok)

Future Prediction (by touch) (Thor Ragnarok)

Astral projection

Mirror Dimension manipulation inside this dimension

Mirror Dimension opening

Reality Bending

Tracking Spells

Portal Conjuring

Object conjuring (map, Thor Ragnarok)

Telekinesis

Transmutation (tea to beer, black hole to butterflies, clothes)

Eldritch Barrier

Time Manipulation

Eldritch Catapult

Eldritch Platform

Mirror Dimension manipulation

The blast Thanos threw went into the Mirrored Dimension, vanishing from ours completely! This sure is some 4th dimension work! Just like we drawing a dot on a paper sheet would sound miraculous to the “beings who live in the 2nd dimension” on the paper sheet! To them, what we drew would just “appear from nowhere”. That’s exactly what Strange does what manipulating the Mirrored Dimension, but with 3 dimensions. It’s as if he could manipulate inter-dimensional paths in the space of the 4th dimension, in other words, reality bending!

So far, we know a few things about the Mirrored Dimension (or Mirror Dimension). The first thing is that it’s a dimension that exists like a layer over our own dimension but a layer that doesn’t directly touches our dimension, despite being super close in the fourth dimension plane. Considering 4 dimensions, the Mirrored Dimension (according to my logic) would be in the same space as our dimension, however, they don’t interact because they aren’t in the same place on this 4th dimension. If we take that idea to 2 dimensions, that would be like two sheets of paper one over the other, their surfaces touch, however, their contents don’t interact, because in the 3rd dimension, they don’t occupy the same space. At the same time, if you placed these two sheets of paper together exactly side by side, making a drawn black line on one sheet of paper “continue” by joining with the other drawn black line on the other sheet, the “beings living in the 2nd dimension of the paper sheets would see the black line they knew becoming longer without explanation. It’s crazy, but it sort of makes sense. When we talk about dimension, we can’t just think about 3 dimension, specially in the MCU, where the Tesseract has been introduced and it represents the mathematic abstraction of how the 4th dimension would be if we could understand it, so yeah, Marvel is deep in the 4th dimension stuff. If you want to understand the concept better, there are many cool Youtube videos that explain it.

Anyway, another important thing we know about the Mirror Dimension is that whatever happens in there cannot affect out dimension (”the real world”). Actually, both our dimension and the Mirror Dimension are “real world”, however, as I mentioned, the Mirror one doesn’t interfere with whatever happens in our world, HOWEVER, that doesn’t mean sorcerers can’t open gateways to access the Mirror Dimension. They totally can open gateways to it because they can manipulate energy to distort THIS dimension by using the sling ring and once they’re in the Mirrored Dimension, they can use the sling ring to do the opposite and open a gateway back to our dimension. But we already saw sorcerers don’t need to use the sling ring to enter the Mirror Dimension, they just need it to get out. Maybe because sorcerers can affect THIS reality using their mind (Reality Bending) buuuuut they can’t use reality bending to manipulate the Mirrored Dimension into affecting our dimension because well, the mirrored dimension doesn’t affect our reality, remember? That’s why they need the sling ring to get out. It’s as if from our dimension, sorcerers could affect the Mirrored Dimension (like an one way road) but the opposite is invalid. Not even sorcerers can affect our dimension from the Mirrored Dimension, that’s why they can’t get out. Of course more powerful sorcerers might know how to escape the Mirrored Dimension in the Marvel Universe, even without a sling ring, but we haven’t seen that yet.

What does this mean? It means that even if Strange didn’t have his sling ring, he still would be able to trap himself and his enemies inside the Mirrored Dimension, and unless his enemies had a way to get out through magic or technology, they would be locked inside the Mirrored Dimension forever. They could still kill Strange, sure, but yeah, they would be stuck and starve to death, since time apparently still affects the Mirrored Dimension (we see people and cars moving normally).

A design representing how the 4th dimension works. It would be possible to move the entire planes where tridimensional objects exist, ignoring any kind of interaction. Someone in the 4th dimension would be able to take everything out from a box without opening it and even manipulate different planes to move everything in the 3rd dimension without affecting how everyone inside the 3rd dimension notices it. Just like we can move a sheet of paper up and down and the “beings who live in it, in the 2nd dimension” wouldn’t notice, because the 3rd dimension is unknown and imperceptible to them.

So, if a hero or villain doesn’t have or know how to use a sling ring, if they can’t break through dimensions or travel through them, they are fated to lose to Doctor Strange, who can trap them inside said dimension until they starve or die of old age. Indeed, there are creepy things about the Mirror Dimension if you think about it. How many sorcerers must have gotten lost in there? Of course a sorcerer might be able to sense the presence of someone locked inside the Mirrored Dimension and rescue them (feel their presence because sorcerers are constantly opening gateways to the Mirror Dimension), but still, there might be many creatures or deceased sorcerers who got stuck there, as well as many objects from our reality that fell in there.

Doctor Strange can transport himself and others into the Mirror Dimension, he can leave it using his sling ring but he also can control the Mirrored Dimension WHILE BEING IN OUR DIMENSION and use it to push or to “swallow” enemies and objects/energy with it, like he did against Thanos. In the fight against the Titan, Strange apparently didn’t use the Mirror Dimension to reflect Thanos’ attack, but he used it to ABSORB IT, in other words, he sent Thanos’ blast to the Mirror Dimension and tried to swallow the Titan with it, but Thanos used the Power Stone and the Space or/and the Reality Stone to break the Mirrored Dimension wall Strange had “summoned” to our dimension.

The Mirror Dimension also seems to be “lighter” then our dimension, maybe that’s why it’s easier to bend reality INSIDE the Mirror Dimension, like Kaecilius and the Ancient One did, or even move walls of the Mirrored Dimension around, like Strange did. Reality Bending is a skill Doctor Strange has, still quite limited, but required for Stephen to move walls of the Mirror Dimension around. We can assume he’s powerful enough to do it, but still not powerful enough to bend OUR reality, like Kaecilius managed to do using Dormammu’s power.

[rvncorns-blog]

WHEN: november 17th, 1997 + various points during the day + after midnight on november 18th, 1997 WHERE: the great hall + the corridors + the hospital wing WHO: noah runcorn self-para

it was strange. noah wanted to care for his sister, he did, but how could he when she was so like the people he hated the most ? he could still remember what it was like to care for her, to feel nothing but fondness and affection when he looked at her. he remembered singing songs to her when she was knee-high and wobbling as she walked. he remembered making faces at her at their dance lessons behind their instructor’s back just to hear her laugh. but now, he looked at her and his stomach twisted. the planes of her face had lost their softness, turning harsh and cold. her lips wore a sneer and her eyes glinted with malice. sometimes, he looked at her and he could only think monster. 

there was a strange air lingering over the great hall this morning. not to say that the year hadn’t felt wrong to begin with, but with what had happened to samuel fisher just a few days prior, noah couldn’t help but feel that people were teetering on the edge more than ever. voices were hushed, heads ducked together as people tried to talk to their friends in confidence. he had a worry that things were only going to continue to get worse ( that certainly had been the case this far, each incident worse than the last, even though that was almost unimaginable ). 

the uneasiness in his stomach let up a bit when he managed to lock eyes with stephen across the hall, a smile pulling at his lips slightly before he ducked his head down. he wasn’t sure what they were ( they were something, that was certain, but what exactly ? -- they hadn’t labeled it ) but knowing that stephen didn’t hate him ( he loved him, actually -- stephen had said that to him despite it all ) and just knowing that buoyed noah’s mood.

still, when his gaze turned away, he frowned as his eyes traveled amongst his housemates, suddenly struck by how unapart he felt. he was sat next to millicent, his best friend for certain, but he hadn’t said much to her this morning, and his frown only deepened as he saw some of the younger years around them, chatting as if nothing was the matter. he didn’t see his sister.

noah dropped his attention back towards the plate of food in front of him, pushing around what was left of his breakfast with his fork. the metal tines of the utensil scraped against the plate and he winced. no one else seemed to noticed. they were too engrossed in their classmates conversations, and maybe it was better that way. he had never been the sort to share about himself ( he never had the chance to -- it was always ‘be better’ and ‘be different’, never ‘what’s bothering you’ or ‘how can i help’ from his family ) and now it was hard to. 

his kept his problems just that: his own. he shrugged off his own issues with insolent shrugs and harsh remarks until people stopped asking. he wondered how hard it would be to start opening up to stephen again. last year, it had taken some time to peel back the layers until he could share whatever was on his mind with no hesitation ( it also should be acknowledged that it had taken noah falling in love to completely trust stephen ). he still was completely and utterly stephen’s but he was still scared that too much had changed between them. when they talked now, he tried to keep it light. he knew they still had so many things to talk about, he knew their wounds were still fresh. he didn’t want to break what fragile relationship lay between them currently.

there were times noah wish he cared less ( an understatement, to say the least ; he drowned himself with how much he cared, further smothering his heart and mind with the nonchalance that he wore for everyone else to see ). he wished he could only care about quidditch and his friends and stephen -- but they, himself and his classmates, were being dragged into a war that was not started by them. it might not have been what they wanted, or what they deserved ( did anyone deserve a war ? did anyone deserve to suffer at the hands and choices of another ? he wondered more often than not ), but it was theirs to take on. they couldn’t say no.

a noise from the front of his hall drew him from his thoughts, and noah turned a blank gaze towards snape and the rest of the professors. for the most part, he ignored the announcements. they hardly ever applied to him, and most of the time they were too heavy for him to want to know, and so he listened, his mind elsewhere, until whatever was being said was said and he could either sink into his own thoughts again or join a conversation that bloomed afterwards.

he wished it were that easy. 

snape commanded the room and his voice carried, but while he talked, noah looked at the professors behind him. most seemed bothered, though that wasn’t surprising. no one was happy and that included the professors. he watched as slughorn grew mildly distressed when snape said slytherin, and he pulled his focus towards snape reluctantly. this was about samuel fisher. he felt his heart thud heavy in his chest when he heard his sister’s name mentioned. people began to look at him and he could feel his face flush a warm red. 

this was bad. he had heard rumor that his sister was involved -- damned fourth years not knowing how to keep their mouths shut -- but he didn’t want to believe it. who would ?? it meant she was more unlike him than he knew and he didn’t want to accept that he had lost her too. noah was coming to terms with letting go of his parents ( his heart still ached but he was trying to get over it. he knew they had caused him more pain than not and in the long run it would be better but -- ) but he had still hoped jeana could be better. he still hoped that maybe she would end up more like him than them.

snape kept talking, explaining what had happened to them, and noah felt a chill wash over him. his fork dropped to his plate with a clang and heads that hadn’t turned already now look at him.

he grabbed his bag and left the great hall.

he was told by snape that he was excused from classes that day, and he mumbled a thanks with a rushed nod of his head. it was a nice gesture, he thought, and one that came as a surprise, but suddenly he realized that it would only make the day harder for him in the greater scheme of things. there was nothing to distract him and nothing else to focus on. all he had to dwell on was jeana, and he figured that he should at least check in on how she was doing.

that was the brotherly thing to do. that was what any decent person would do. but his stomach still turned at the idea of seeing her. he couldn’t remember the last time they had spoken. rather, he couldn’t remember them speaking beyond more than a sneer on his part and a thinly-veiled insult on hers. they treated each other like disliked strangers, and really noah couldn’t think of them as being anything but. 

what could he say to her anyways ?  ‘i’m sorry that happened to you’ ? 

it was strange. noah wanted to care for his sister, he did, but how could he when she was so like the people he hated the most ? he could still remember what it was like to care for her, to feel nothing but fondness and affection when he looked at her. he remembered singing songs to her when she was knee-high and wobbling as she walked. he remembered making faces at her at their dance lessons behind their instructor’s back just to hear her laugh. but now, he looked at her and his stomach twisted. the planes of her face had lost their softness, turning harsh and cold. her lips wore a sneer and her eyes glinted with malice. sometimes, he looked at her and he could only think monster. 

he wouldn’t be able to show her any sympathy because a part of him -- he flinched at this reaction from himself ;  it made him think that he would be like his family no matter how hard he tried otherwise -- a part of him thought that she deserved it. jeana got what was coming to her. she did a terrible thing and noah thought that she should have to face the repercussions. but she was still a child. she was young and naive, her thoughts twisted and influenced by persons who were cruel and harsh and monstrous, and despite everything, she shouldn’t have been hurt in such a way.

maybe he’d leave a card on her table.

the owl found him in the early afternoon. he was walking ( wandering ) when it landed on a window sill, looking at him with baleful eyes. it was a bird he recognized immediately, with its familiar pitch dark feathers and markings. it was his father’s bird.

it stuck its leg out and tried to snap as his finger as noah grabbed the letter. he swore at it, cursing it and its family, before shooing it away with a wave of his hand. it made a mournful hoot, its gaze lingering before it stepped away, spreading its wings and leaving.

he hated that bird.

the parchment was thick in his hands and he ripped it open with no care.

we have heard of what happened to your sister. what a shame good students like her are at risk at hogwarts. be sure that we are furious, and we expect you share our sentiments, as well. we have been in contact with the school and have heard report of her injury, but you need to see her and write back to us with your own observation of her condition.

there was no introduction or greeting to him at all and that stung more than he expected it would. immediately, he balled up the letter, shoving it into the pockets of his robe as he continued his walk, in a fouler mood than before.

this was the first letter he’d received from them in ages. it had been silent -- they had been silent -- despite his goading remarks in those he had sent them. he had talked about quidditch being cancelled and how all prospect of a future for him was gone -- if anything, that should have earned him a critique that he wasn’t even trying, that he was disgracing the family name, not working for the ministry like generations before -- but there was nothing. he talked about the detention he faced with parkinson and the carrows -- he thought he would be told that it was well-deserved, that maybe it would knock some sense into him -- but still nothing. he mentioned stephen. nothing.

it hurt. it hurt him more than he would care to admit. all he wanted was their attention ( he wanted the love they showed jeana, too, but it had been a long time since he resigned himself to the fact that that would never come ). he wanted acknowledgement that he was theirs and that, at least if they didn’t like him, that a part of them still cared about how and what he was doing.

it was childish to think that. they would never care about him so long as he was everything that they disliked in a person. they would never care unless he bowed at their feet, apologizing for years of misdeeds and saying that they were right all along. he would have to lie and pretend, and only then might they deem him worthy of a second glance.

noah didn’t think he could do that. he knew what guilt and remorse felt like now, stemming from all he had done to stephen. before that, the emotions of others didn’t affect him too greatly, if at all, and then he learned. every lie weighed him down, harsh and heavy, and it caused more pain than he could bear. it felt wrong and poor, and it was a terrible cross. 

to lie to his parents and accept the name and role they wanted of him ? impossible. he would die if he had to wear a lie that big.

he began to make his way back towards the hospital wing.

the hospital wing was closed to visitors but he was assured as family that he could go in to visit his sister. he nodded his head in understanding when hearing this, but he lingered at the entrance, staring at the rows of beds shut-off from gaze.

his sister was behind one of the dividers. he couldn’t imagine what she looked like now. surely most cosmetic injury, bruises and discolorations, were healed by this point. the description given by snape this morning of her condition led him to believe that she would be healing from much worse than just scrapes and scratches, but he just didn’t want to think of what she would look like injured.

his favorite way to think of her was when she was little and smiling. when her gaze would lock with his and her eyes would twinkle. when they could talk about silly things like fairytales and imaginings. when they loved each other.

he didn’t want to see her hurt, knowing that he thought she was wicked. he could survive on more positive memories.

the stone of the wall was cool on noah’s back as he sat leaning against it, his gaze staring, fixed, on the wall across from him. it was nearing midnight and he still hadn’t gone inside of the hospital wing to see his sister. madame pomfrey had come out to let him know that the hospital wing was closed to visitors now, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

it felt like a betrayal, like he was severing the last cord he had to his family, and the idea of that ate away at him, gnawing and aching. for so long, he had felt like he would cast off the name if given the chance. he would renounce them all and pretend they meant nothing to him. but the opportunity now stood in front of him, and something was stopping him.

maybe it was because noah was softer than his family. maybe it was because he felt bothered when he hurt people ( a new development, for sure, but not one he regretted ) or maybe it was because he still felt like he had some lingering obligation to them despite all the pain they had caused him. he didn’t know. he didn’t know and he kept trying to figure out what was keeping him there. 

he rested his head on his knees, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. the letter his parents had written him felt heavy crumpled in his hands.

he looked at the cracked watch on his wrist. it was now later than he’d realized. ghosts and prefects and professors alike had been by, all telling him it was after curfew, but he had refused to leave. his chest felt heavy and he felt more tired than he had been in ages.

finally, he pushed himself up to his feet, but he felt unsteady. his steps dragged as he began to walk towards the dungeons. his head was fuzzy from hard thought, and a spot between his eyes ached. 

he’d come to the decision that he wasn’t going to check in on jeana.

if his parents wanted to know how jeana was, he decided they should write to snape or to slughorn, not to him. if they really wanted to know, they should come see her themselves, and not ask for secondhand reports. 

they weren’t his family. he had no obligation to them. not anymore.

[dixxymouri]

Dixxy vs One Piece Chapter 902: End Roll

IT’S TIME.

First, some ground rules. Where possible I’m going to use the official ViZ translation for chapters. That means we’ll probably get to revisit this whole affair on Monday when the chapter officially drops. Stephen Paul has been THE most trusted source for One Piece translations going back to well before he was officially working with ViZ so where comparison is available, that’s the translation I’m going with. Also, like, if he really needs to I believe he actually does have a contact at Japanese Shonen Jump if there’s something he doesn’t know how to translate in emergency situations. So in regards to dialog in 902 I’m going to take everything with a grain of salt until the official release. 

So I’m going to focus largely on THAT subject and ignore most of the rest of it for now. If y’all are good and get me lots of likes and reblogs maybe I’ll do a deeper dive into the rest of the chapter but yeah let’s talk about SanPu.

So, if you’re part of shipping culture in the online One Piece fandom and you just got back from being under a rock or on the moon for the last two months or so, here’s a quick visual representation of what the whole Luffy Nami Sanji Pudding ship war discourse looks like right now:

To recap the last few chapters, Pudding made some sort of last request of Sanji that we, the readers, didn’t get to see until 902 leaked online early this morning or late last night or whatever time it was in your particular time zone. In short? This:

Yup. A SanPu kiss happened. 

So on the one hand there’s probably some concerned Sanji x Nami shippers out there and there are definitely some Luffy x Nami shippers who are acting like total fucking assholes.

“Hurray! People who have never done any wrong to me or my loved ones are potentially really upset and unable to enjoy something that brought them a lot of happiness! This is a great day for me!”

(I mean, look, I get that schadenfreude is a thing for a reason but this isn’t it. If this is you, fuck off, you’re not some champion of your OTP, you’re a fucking asshole). 

So let’s break this down.

Is SaNa sunk/SanPu canon?

Short answer? No and no...maybe. 

While it’s very clear that Pudding still has feelings for Sanji, I don’t think Sanji returns them. Okay, yes, he’s gone all heart-eyes for her but, well, this is Sanji we’re talking about, of course he did that when a pretty girl kissed him, it’d be like asking Luffy to not stuff his face at a Meat Buffet that’s just not where his character is right now. But let’s take a look at him from a few chapters ago in 896:

Sanji’s pretty ready to part ways with her here. And once Pudding snips out the memory of said kiss:

He’s confused as to why Pudding ran away but he’s not chasing after her and there’s really nothing in the chapter showing him upset over not being with her right now. The only one who’s upset is Pudding.

This can be read a couple of ways - it leaves the door open for SanPu later if she comes back into the fold (more on that in a bit), or this was a bittersweet ending for their story. This, by the way, is one of the things I REALLY want to see the ViZ translation for, because the “song” going through the chapter seems to have multiple interpretations floating around with varying degrees of finality to this situation, which leaves things in even more flux.

Here’s the thing: SanPu hasn’t become canon (which means that, no, SaNa didn’t sink). That doesn’t mean it won’t later on, but at the moment it just isn’t. Sanji doesn’t have feelings for Pudding and doesn’t remember the kiss, nor was his reaction particularly strong. Pudding is distraught right now, sure, but we really don’t know what’s next for her. Is she going to try and leave the island and follow in Lola’s footsteps? Is Big Mom going to try and use her for another wedding plot? Is she going to get on a bus, go to the big city, and try to make it in show business? I don’t know and neither do you. 

“Sanji and Pudding kissed that means they’re married now!”

No it doesn’t.

“But they kissed! They’re man and wife now!”

...no, no they really aren’t. 

A wedding ceremony and a marriage are technically two different things. A wedding is a ceremony, whereas a marriage is a legal contract. Marriage doesn’t actually take place until both parties sign a contract and it’s officiated by someone with the legal authority to do so, usually a religious leader like a priest, a rabbi, or an imam, or a non-religious affiliated justice of the peace.

But that’s the real world and probably not something Oda put thought into for the manga. All right, I’ll give you that, but it still doesn’t matter. Let’s say that in the One Piece world all that matters is the ceremony.

Well, the ceremony was never actually finished and the kiss took place long after the wedding party disbanded. I’m not even sure the priest is still alive. Whether you like it or not or whether you think it helps your ship or not, the alley was not a wedding and no marriage has taken place. 

That being said this feels like something that might come up in an SBS but I’m guessing Oda is going to say “no”. 

Conflicting Ships - Luffy x Nami vs Sanji x Nami vs Sanji

This is one I think we all have feet of clay in regards to, but if your ship relies on the instability of another ship that’s not really a sign you have a lot of confidence in your ship and you can’t enjoy it unless it has at least a CHANCE of becoming canon. This is why I’m skeptical of Sanji x Pudding fans - I really do think a lot of them (not all of them, mind you) are just Luffy x Nami fans eager to get their biggest threat out of the picture without killing him. I’m sure there are plenty of Luffy x Hancock “fans” who want them same thing, except they’re actually Sanji x Nami or Zoro x Nami fans. Guys, that’s probably not a healthy attitude to have when it comes to shipping.

“So you’re trying to say that your reasons for not liking Sanji x Pudding have nothing to do with Sanji x Nami?” What part of “I think we all have feet of clay” did you not understand? Yeah, it’s one of the reasons I’m not big on Sanji x Pudding - I find it difficult to ship characters together if one or more characters in the pairing have a canon partner. I don’t know that I NEED Sanji x Nami to be canon but I’d be pretty sad if a conflicting pairing actually happened, with varying degrees of being okay or angry depending on the execution and characters involved. I mean I’d even be mad if Sanji and Nami happened and it was done really, really badly. 

This is why I think the best case scenario for all parties involved is One Piece ending without any of the big ships becoming canon, probably excluding Usopp x Kaya (which, while it’s KIND OF a forgone conclusion isn’t very heavily shipped) and possibly excluding Robin and Franky (who seem to have moved onto Dorky Middle Aged Married Couple Who Like to Embarrass Their Kids while no one was looking). Why? Because unless one of the pertinent parties is dead, that leaves everyone free to draw whatever conclusion they want.

Like, do you have any idea how much happier the Bleach and Naruto fandoms would be if Kubo and Kishimoto didn’t canonize any pairings? A LOT. Yeah some fans would be salty they didn’t get confirmation, sure, but they’d be free to think whatever they wanted happened after end of series. 

Imagine if One Piece ends with something like Luffy, now the Pirate King, is on the ship with the other Straw Hats (now all having achieved their dreams) and he’s sitting on his special seat and he points to the horizon and he’s like “okay guys let’s go that way and have another adventure!” and everyone else is like “YEAH!” and then they coup de burst into the sunset and the words “The End” appear on that very last page. Luffy and Nami fans are free to think that their king and queen got together. Sanji and Nami fans are free to think the cook will continue to dote on his angel. Sanji and Pudding fans are free to think that Sanji returned to Pudding to marry her for real this time. Etc, etc.

Unfinished Business

That’s another thing about this chapter and this arc as a whole - I can’t think of another arc that has THIS many obvious dangling plot threads that really feel like they should have been answered before the arc ended. Like, yes, there are other arcs that have dangling plot threads but many of those really feel like things that were blatantly meant to come up in future arcs, like the threads from Fishman Island. But for THIS arc? 

- What’s the deal with the Three Eye Tribe and will Pudding’s third eye have its true awakening? - What’s the backstory behind Germa 66 and that story Judge was talking about? - Speaking of Judge, what’s the deal with his eyebrows? - Speaking of Judge AGAIN, what went down between him and Vegapunk? - Why did that one homie recognize Pedro? - Is anything going to happen to all those people/creatures in the prison library? - Why doesn’t Lola realize Big Mom wants her dead? - Why didn’t Pudding ever get an Oda box? Yeah, that NEVER happened but we got them for like, Smoothie’s underlings and those decutuplets. The fuck, Oda? - What went down between Snack and Urogue and how did he escape? - Did Chiffon and Bege get away? - What the fuck happened to Casear Clown? - What’s going to happen when Big Mom finds out about the Tamatebako box?

...and probably more I’m not thinking of. Thing is, that’s a LOT of dangling plot threads for one arc, a lot of which feel like they could or should have been addressed here. Thing is, they probably will be addressed because you may have noticed there’s one big plot thread I didn’t list above:

- Big Mom and Elbaf

I’ve been on this particular bus for a while but it occurs to me a lot of my fellow fans didn’t think that was going to happen or at least didn’t want it to happen. But when you look at everyone that happened between Big Mom and Elbaf and how much of it we’ve seen ON PANEL, it would be REALLY WEIRD for her to not make an appearance on Elbaf. Let’s do another list:

- Murdered one of the two elder giant heroes - ATE Mother Carmel and a bunch of innocent orphans - Hey look a bunch of the giant kids from Big Mom’s flashback are part of Harudin’s crew now I bet that’s important - Whatever the hell happened between Lola and Loki

The only other option I can think of if a return to Fishman Island since, well, we kind of need to go back there at some point (Luffy’s gotta destroy it somehow, remember?) and thanks to the Sun Pirates and Praline I wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to take out some of her anger there. Plus everything with Big Mom actually STARTED back in Fishman Island. That’s the first time Luffy crossed her, it’s where we met some of her people (including Pudding...kind of), and yeah that would probably a believable scenario for the island to be destroyed, I guess.

Oda is Still Drawing Sanji Showing Affection for Nami

Okay, granted, we haven’t seen a Sanji “love cook” moment with Nami since he got back on the ship, but there still is stuff Oda’s drawn very recently that would be REALLY WEIRD if the intention was to make SanPu canon.

If 902 is the start of canon Sanji x Pudding, then this is a REALLY weird thing for Oda to draw, even if it’s not canon. Like, REALLY weird. 

Oda DIDN’T Draw Pudding’s Interior Thoughts When Nami Was Around

So we saw a bunch of Pudding’s thoughts during key scenes during the arc, including some between her and Sanji,

But something that was kind of weirdly absent? Anything involving Nami. Such as the bridal carry, which we saw Pudding react to, and when Sanji returned to the Sunny the first time and freaked out when Nami hugged him.

If Pudding has feelings for Sanji, she should have reacted to these incidents but we don’t know how she reacted to them. That feels intentionally left out. Now, granted, it’s probably Pudding (correctly) assuming that Sanji has feelings for Nami, but I think this was intentionally left alone. 

Why?

Because having Pudding point these things out would strongly hint at Sanji x Nami as end game, which Oda doesn’t want to do at this stage of the game for one of two reasons. Either that isn’t his intention or it’s way to early to show his hand. Both are valid reasons to not do that, by the way.

Are we sure Oda even likes Pudding all that much?

Here’s an SBS question and answer from volume 87.

I’m not sure Oda would say something like that about a character he plans to pair up with one of his main characters. Again, weird choice if that’s the case.

Okay I’m sure I’ll get some responses to this and I’d love to clarify/discuss in the responses and reblogs. But for the moment...

Conclusion

Blech these are never easy to write.

The short answer to this whole thing is that I don’t think Sanji x Nami fans have reason to throw in the towel, nor do I think Sanji x Pudding fans (and by extension Luffy x Nami fans) really have anything to “celebrate”. Right now it feels like an ending, but since a lot of the Big Mom stuff is unresolved the door on Pudding isn’t closed...but I’m not really sure what would be on the other side.

[stunudo]

BAU Prep School AU: 2018

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country. (image link)  2016-2017 school year  Class of 18

Let’s Try This Again

August 21, 2017 12:47pm

The dampness of the air lingered on every blade of perfectly shorn grass. The mud and chalk melded into a homelike aroma, welcoming JJ back, as she strolled from her car in flipflops and oversized sunglasses. She wrinkled her nose; those boys were going to be a smelly mess in this heat. As she crossed the football field, she spotted him taking shots at the goal, bouncing the balls at all angles and doing bicycle kicks and generally goofing around. He was in his element, his grin wide across his features, which was understandable; he still believed himself alone.

JJ burst into a comical round of applause as he hit the turf hard, after an overly ambitious kick forced him into something resembling a snowboarding move.

“Need a hand?” JJ peered down as he lay with his chest heaving.

“Nah, I’m good. The grass will bury me by next week.” Luke Alvez waved off her outstretched hand. “What are you doing here Jareau?”

“Had to make sure my boys were on their best behavior,” She kneeled beside him, now lounging on his side.

“So, you’re not checking up on me?” Luke teased, balancing his forearms on his knees, unable to settle the excitement within himself. “Cuz I’d say you have enough to worry about right now.” She leaned back, rubbing her perfect baby belly affectionately. “What’s the countdown to now?”

“29 days, but who’s counting?” JJ glanced down her nose. “Come on, humor me with some drills. I need to move.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Luke rolled a nearby ball her way before dramatically flipping back upright.

That’s how the students found them, their new coach playing goalie as their overly pregnant coach kept him dodging for every corner of the box with her pristine aim. The upperclassmen suffered through tryouts before school began each year as their games started the second week of September, freshmen rarely made starter squad anyhow. If the boys wanted to learn something about grit, these were the best teachers they could have asked for. Not that teenagers ask for things so freely given.

Friday September 1 10:32am

It was as if no time had passed, they filed into the Delaney Owens Memorial Library with casual conversation spilling over the meeting’s set start time. The faculty of the Frederick Buchanan Institute gathered for their annual staff pop-wow. Penelope Garcia sat straight backed at Headmaster Hotchner’s left as her boyfriend and football coach, Derek Morgan leaned casually beside her, making small talk with veteran math teacher, Jordan Todd.

“Alright, everyone, let’s make it official. Welcome to the new school year, for those of you unable to attend our little development weekend in July, we have two new staff members this Fall.” Hotch gestured to the middle of the table to his right. “Luke? Would you like to introduce yourself?”

Luke nodded and held up his hand in a short wave, “Luke Alvez, your new Foreign Language teacher and interim soccer coach. Originally from the Bronx, played professionally after college and have been teaching in California and most recently the Carolinas for eight years.”

“Thanks, alright, now the other new face. Matt?” Hotch looked to the far end of the table, the statuesque Asian man smiled slyly with only one cheek.

“I’m Matt Simmons. I’m filling in for Coach Jareau’s classes while she is on leave. I am currently taking a leave of absence, myself, as foreign correspondent for Al Jazeera, but before that I was on the D.C. political scene.”

“Oh, the girls are going to eat you boys up!” Mrs. Todd teased the pair of attractive new teachers.

“Jordan.” Hotch chuckled.

“Oh, who am I kidding, this day and age, everyone is going to love you.” She sighed, spinning back to the headmaster in her seat.

“Right, anyway, welcome, to you both. Penelope?” Hotch kept the meeting succinct.

Ms. Garcia squealed quietly as she spun to address the whole faculty. “Friends, teachers, countrymeh- peoples. Hi!” The meeting continued, Penelope and Hotch covering the new schedules and upcoming events. Something in the air felt more relaxed than years past, as if the summer had yet to release the staff of her transfixing spell. They made their way to the cafeteria, Chef David Rossi’s delights tantalizing their noses from halls away.

“I’ve got to be honest, I am surprised Jareau didn’t make it today,” Luke confided to Emily and Hotch.

“I was surprised I got her to stay home,” Emily deadpanned. “I’m sorry about tryouts, she really doesn’t listen to reason.”

“No, it was fine. Besides, kept the guys on their toes, her shooting past me even with that big belly.” Luke smirked, Hotch sighed as Emily’s face fell.

“She was playing?!”

“What?” Luke froze. “Uh, no, not really.” His face a mask of fear and inability to lie. They had arrived to find their meals waiting. Two tables set equally for seven, saving Luke from the awkward explanation, he quickly followed Spencer, who was chatting with Alex and Stephen animatedly.

“Smooth, Alvez.” Derek patted him on the shoulder as Emily stepped passed them, anxiously checking her phone. Matt Simmons was the last one to join his coworkers, Rossi had already served everyone and had sat himself between Kate and Tara. This left the last free seat next to Alex Blake. He slipped between the Drama and Debate teacher and the ever-bubbly Guidance Counselor. “Ladies, how are we doing this afternoon?”

Alex didn’t respond but held his curious gaze as Penelope began excitedly chippering away to his right.

Tuesday Sept. 5 10am

The summer heat hadn’t relented for two weeks, leaving the players exhausted and desperate after only an hour of running drills. The linemen had the field while the quarterbacks and wide receivers were working through their flexibility drills inside. May Howard never wanted to tackle her own teammates as badly as when they were able to walk back into the airconditioned school.

“Submariners! Positions!” Coach Morgan barked from his perch on the sled. “That means you too, Turner!”

Lucas filled in beside May as their hands and heads fell into line across the turf. Their lungs strained as they waited for the starting whistle. Their coach eyed them, leaving the moment lingering; training their reflexes as much as trying their patience. Then the blast, a jolt of force pushed the large metal framework.

“Don’t stop, get it,” Derek pushed his team. “You go until the play ends. You go until their line breaks and then you take them down!”

May hated being shorter than the guys in moments like this, her legs crossing twice as many steps to keep up with theirs. Lucas laughed as the Coach drew out his ending whistle. Their bodies burning hotter than the midday sun.

“Shower up. We hit the playbook tomorrow. Hard.”

12:57pm

Azalene Curtis could not believe this is where they had been enrolled for the new school year. The place was a freaking castle, she gawked out of the driver’s side as pulled up to the parking lot nearest the Rothschild Auditorium. Her little brother, Jackson, was running late for Freshman Orientation and of course she had to be the one to drop him off. Her hair was braided and wrapped around her head to keep its weight back and off her neck. She helped her brother out of his side of the car and walked him to the doors that had been propped open.

“Lena, you can go now.” Jackson grunted, his elbow crutches easily maneuvered over the lip of the door frame.

“Are you sure? This is an old building, make sure you ask for help if there are too many stairs.” She always worried he would be too pig-headed and miss a class, something their parents tended to ignore when it did happen.

“Are you going to be like this all year?”

“What? Looking out for you? Hell yeah, high school is vicious.”

“You said the same thing about middle school.”

“And I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Whatever, loser, see you later.”

“Have fun, Jax!” Lena turned to descend the slightly inclined walking path. A sleek red convertible came to a screeching halt at the sidewalk. A tiny Hispanic girl nearly jumped from the passenger’s seat as her older brother called from the driver’s side.

“Don’t be rude, Rita. It looks bad on all of us!” Ignacio Cruz reprimanded his freshman sister.

“Go to Hell, Iggy. I’m only rude when you make me late!” And she ran past the Curtis siblings as if they weren’t even there.

Wed. Sept. 6  7:31am

“Good morning everybody. My name is Matt Simmons and I will be filling in for Coach Jareau this fall. I know formality is expected here, but I believe in mutual respect. If you can act in an appropriate manner, you get to call me by my first name.” He stood at the front of his first hour Journalism class in a fresh gray button down matched with a black and white paisley tie. He read the crowd easily, from the overly attentive girl in the front row to the completely disinterested guys in the back.

“You’re actually the Matt Simmons.” Sacha Kane took a quick picture of him. “Best first day of school. Ever.” She read her caption to her Instagram post barely beneath her breath.

“Guys? No pictures, this is a classroom.” Matt sighed. “For those of you who don’t know me, I am a reporter with Al Jazeera. I have a bachelor’s degree from NYU and a master’s from GW.”

“You’re also Hannah’s uncle.” Iggy Cruz added from his perch in the last row, attempting to bring the new teacher down a peg.

“That is correct, Hannah Chang is my sister’s daughter.” Matt smiled easily, arrogant senior guys weren’t really that intimidating after reporting in conflict zones for the past ten years. “And your father is on the Board of Regents and Maya here is Mr. Walker’s daughter. It’s really cozy here at F.B.I., isn’t it?”

“We’re all about getting cozy, handsome.” Sacha leaned back, biting her lip.

“Ms. Kane?” Mr. Simmons raised his eyebrows. “Are we going to have a problem?”

She rolled her eyes and sat up straight, his voice switched from sultry to commanding in an instant. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from his first day teaching, but this certainly hadn’t been it. Mr. Simmons turned down the lights and began his opening presentation. He left the class with reading assignments and to bring in a print media example of a current events opinion piece for the next day.

“Way to piss off the new teacher, Sacha. Since when do we have homework on the first day?” Jake sassed down at his flirtatious classmate on the way to his second period.

“Jakey, come on. He had that ready before I even snapped a pic.” She grinned confidently. “This semester is going to get me past ten thousand followers.”

10:36am

Luke Alvez’s throat hurt from talking during his morning classes. He started the semester with simple conversations, introductions and asking about the students. Second period was the beginners, but most of the teens had some knowledge of the language as their household staff or nannies may have spoken it around them. There was only one crack about tequila or cerveza, which he chalked up as a win. Now that he was done with his long stretch of classes, he realized how early in the day it was to have lunch.

“I feel like I just had breakfast.” Luke admitted as he grabbed his plate from the cart that Rossi had wheeled in to the staff dining hall, before ducking back to the cafeteria.

“You’re telling me, man. But if you don’t eat now, you’re going to regret it.” Derek shared from experience.

“How’s your first day going, teach?” Kate teased as she dug into her perfectly prepared meal.

“Pretty good, all things considered. I guess Penelope was teaching them at the end of last semester, so I can’t really win any popularity contests.”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it, man. My girl has these kids by the heartstrings and their parents by their wallets, but she was not meant to be teaching. Trust me.” Derek Morgan chuckled.

“We’re just glad you’re here now. Let the craziness of last year be left in the past.” Tara added in her comforting voice.

“Funny the history teacher is talking about leaving things in the past,” Alvez chided.

“Oh, watch out, he’s got the comeback.” Derek egged his coworkers on.

They continued like that up until the bell rattled them back to reality. The easy banter hinting that perhaps this team was going to work out while past line ups had left people slipping between the cracks.

3:42pm

Spencer had been to the principal’s office numerous times over his academic career. Usually as the victim of some sort of bullying, the bruises hidden beneath his oversized clothing. Once it was because he had explained something during a biology lesson and his lab partner thought he was sexually harassing her. And another had been because his history teacher deemed him a distraction to other students and he had to remain in the principal’s office for the remainder of the quarter during that class period. The principal promptly retired the following summer.

These experiences were racing through his thoughts as he knocked on Hotch’s office door after the first day of the new school year. Clammy hands betraying his nerves.

“Come in,” the headmaster’s voice genial. “Reid? Everything okay?”

“You tell me,” Spencer didn’t sit but stood with one hand in his pocket to hide the tension it held. “I have fewer classes on my schedule this year and you gave Sociology to a glorified cameraman.”

“Matt Simmons has an undergraduate degree in Sociology, Reid. He is more than qualified to teach an introductory class on it.”

“As do I. In addition to my three doctorates in other fields.”

Hotch eyed the younger man. “Reid! What is this really about?”

“Do you think I can’t handle the course load? Did I somehow lower the standards with a full schedule?”

“Last year I lost two qualified educators, one to a personal vendetta of a student and one to trauma from the hands of another student. I cannot put my faculty at risk of burn out or exhaustion when the very people we are charged with nurturing could, rather poetically, bite the hand that feeds them.”

“This isn’t about my curriculum?”

“No.”

“Or my attempt at a stargazing club?”

“Not at all, though that really was just asking for kids to sneak off and neck.”

“Neck?” Spencer rubbed his absentmindedly, not getting the reference.

“Spencer,” Hotch leaned on his desk top, signaling the science teacher to sit as well. “I purposely gave you a prep period this year. I don’t want you to work yourself sick. We need to all be on our A game. That means accepting a break, even if we think we’re invincible.”

Spencer’s lips curled into a blushing smirk. “Clever word choice, Hotch. Invincible is late Middle English but has Latinate roots; ‘in’ and ‘vincibilis’ respectably.”

“Reid.”

“Sir?”

“I asked a lot of you, and even more so of Penelope, last term. This is my way of trying to remedy that.”

“Oh.” Spencer caught on. “Well, it was my pleasure. Besides, I kind of owed it to her, too.”

“No, you didn’t, but that’s what makes you a great teacher, Reid. You care so deeply, you take on the burdens of other’s growth. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself too, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Friday Sept 8 6:12pm

Maya Walker scrambled through loading the dishwasher, causing both her parents to glance between themselves. She had three different chapters to read, a dozen geometry problems to proof out and a trumpet solo to prepare for seating auditions next week. The pressure was starting to sink in. She gave up snapping Meg Callahan and just called her on speaker.

“This is only the first week of the next four years of my life and I am DROWNING, girl.”

“Hey, Maya.” Meg’s voice sounded overly cheerful.

“Did you just answer the phone at the dinner table? Nu-uh, Kate is going to kill you!”

“Rough week? That sucks,” The line became muffled as Meg clearly played on her aunt’s sympathies to get excused early from the family meal. “Okay, I have ten, twelve minutes tops before she is going to call your mom and check on you.”

“You didn’t have to answer, dork!”

“I couldn’t stand it! Chris was doing light saber noises while trying to convince Kit to eat his Brussel sprouts. They’re Brussel sprouts! It is physically impossible to like them until you’re at least twenty-five!”

“Preach!” Maya filled in. “But seriously, I am dying. Do you have homework? Maybe we can hit the bookstore tomorrow or Sunday. I am going to lose it if I am stuck in my room all weekend.”

“It’s the first week of school, I have like one page of Algebra homework.”

“Which could take hours.”

“Mrrrrrrp. Nope, sorry. I can’t draw it out that long.”

“Please? Because you value me as a friend and person?”

“Maya Walker, don’t go begging now!” Meg cackled. “But seriously, I am sorry you have so much work. And I am slightly terrified for next year. Hey, you said you signed up for Journalism, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Is Mr. Simmons as hot as Kate is saying he is?”

“Whoa, go Kate!” Maya cheered on the nurse’s taste. “Yes, he is built like a Greek god, with all the ageless beauty of his Asian roots.”

“Ugh, I wish my teachers were hot.”

“Dude!”

“Okay, well, like, not our parents, obviously.”

“I should hope so!” Mara shuddered. “But seriously, Journalism is first hour, he already knows my name and who I am. It’s going to be a long year.”

“Still a great view to wake up for every morning.”

“Whatever, traitor. So no study sesh this weekend?”

“Nah, sorry. I am babysitting and then we have something on Sunday.”

“You owe me!”

“Yeah, yeah, well I better scram. Hugs!”

“Thanks, Meg. Talk later.”

“Yep.”

Maya hung up the phone and fell dramatically into the mound of quilts atop her bed. She was procrastinating, but something about two days and four assignments felt daunting. After twenty minutes on her favorite puzzle game, she gave in. She got out her trumpet and got to work.

Next Chapter: Uphill

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