#and nominally at least understand what it means
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Thinking abt tiny LWJ getting his forehead ribbon and his courtesy name and only slightly less tiny LXC who still sometimes hides his mouth behind his hands bc he's smiling too hard telling everyone he can get away with about it. This is national news LXC's didi is a full member of the sect now, Wangji, his name is Wangji and he got his forehead ribbon early because he's a model citizen did you know that LXC has a little brother and his name is Wangji now
#Re: ribbon and courtesy name: courtesy name rules seem to be really inconsistent and MXT/X plays fast and loose with them anyway#Naming attitudes in general seems to vary between sects (and obv individuals but sects too e.g. the Jin being the only ones with#generational prefixes etc)#So I'm headcanoning this. They're given out at like 4 or 5 for inner disciples when the disciple is old enough to manage it#and nominally at least understand what it means#This seems normal to me as a benchmark given that belts are given out to 4/5 year olds and even younger in martial arts studios#So. LWJ here is like 4 and LXC thus like 6
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OT13 Reaction -- to you having a fan account
SCOUPS:
he finds it so incredibly adorable that you have a fan acc dedicated to them. he follows it from his burner acc asap, adding it to his list of accs he checks daily. is so surprised when he finds out that he's actually been following the account already, having been using it for updates on seventeen. amazed to know you're the one behind @ svtfanclub.
JEONGHAN:
teases you about it every chance he gets. he insists you're sooo obsessed with him and everything he does. you have to start second thinking everything you post about him, knowing even the smallest thing might set off a firework of omg you're sooo in love, at least hide it better. ik, ik, you can't help it. i'm irresistible. smirks when he sees you typing on your phone, fingers already itching to save the post before you've even posted it.
JOSHUA:
has a dedicated saved folder just for your posts. saves every single one to look back on later. brings them up in daily conversation randomly - you guys could be talking about what to have for dinner and he'd throw in a soooo i saw your latest post, the one with my photoshoot pictures~ turns red whenever he sees you thirsting for him online.
JUN:
singlehandedly turns your svt updates fan acc into a svt meme acc. he sends you exclusive photos of the members whenever he can, urging you to turn them into memes and to post them. cackles reading all the comments and only ever sends you good pics of himself. he refuses to be caught lacking.
HOSHI:
remember when hoshi spammed weverse with horanghae? he will 100% steal your phone and do that on your fan acc. accidentally stirs up speculation about whether or not you know hoshi or if you're trolling your followers. insists you post one photo of him a day, resulting in the acc being more of a hoshi shrine than a svt fanpage (oops.)
WONWOO:
lowkey impressed how routinely your updates are despite your busy life. he's a little embarrassed by some of your more....enthusiastic posts, but he appreciates the amount of love. ends up adding the acc to his phone so ya'll can run it together. he handles all the nomination updates and real other stuff - allowing you to spend your time posting more fun content about the members.
WOOZI:
doesn't really get the point of it. he does his best to understand the hows and whys of running a fan acc, ending up just telling you how much it means to him that you're supporting his work. gives you exclusive mini interviews about his creative process and songwriting, leaving your followers wondering where on earth you're getting these insider info.
MINGHAO:
touched when he notices you have dedicated posts to him and his art projects. scolds you whenever he sees you interacting with haters, reminding you that as much as he appreciates you defending them, violence is not the answer! he's always there to remind you whenever he feels like you need a break for social media, turning off your phone for you and proposing a day out.
DK:
cries as he scrolls through your posts, not being able to take how thoughtful and supportive you are. clings onto you the whole day after he finds out, whispering how much he loves you and how much it means to him. turns on notifications for your posts and smiles whenever he sees them.
MINGYU:
accidentally likes one of your posts thirsting over him with his main acc. panics and deletes it but it's too late - the ever-watching carats have spotted him. sends millions of followers swarming to your acc and he can only shrug when you confront him about it. claims its for media and promotion purposes. sends you exclusive gym pics and thirst traps for you to post - although some of them are too spicy so you keep them to yourself.
SEUNGKWAN:
has that iconic shocked expression when you tell him before taking out his own phone and showing you that surprise! he has one too. the two of you now sometimes coordinate your posting times and interact with each other in the comments. he will tsk with disappointment if a post doesn't met his standards. competitive ass turns it into a competition.
VERNON:
he's not surprised. you seem to know like everything about seventeen already, so it's only natural you help inform other carats! he'll send you trends he thinks you should incorporate into your acc and provides you with behind-the-scenes pics. gets you vip access to any event so you can grab those up close shoots of him and his members - nepo baby(?) at its finest.
DINO:
his ego is boosted to the max when he finds out. loves that you found a way to love him loudly despite your relationship being private. giggles to himself (although he'll never admit it) whenever you post about him and sends your posts into the svt gc for his hyungs to see.
#seventeen ot13#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen imagines#svt#svt imagines#svt fluff#seventeen#seventeen blurbs#scoups x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader#jun x reader#hoshi x reader#wonwoo x reader#woozi x reader#the8 x reader#dk x reader#mingyu x reader#seungkwan x reader#vernon x reader#dino x reader
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sociopathic capitalist urban developers as a class have managed to fool an entire generation of self-identified leftist "YIMBYs" into bulldozing currently-occupied low income housing and functioning green space including the mature, carbon-sequestering, heat-protectant trees everyone is always crying about to build cardboard "luxury" slums for the Seattle ruling class to use as barbie houses and everyone gets mad at me when i suggest disrupting steady occupancy, neighborhood social support networks, and more intangible established occupancy benefits like not having to deal with packing and unpacking etc which takes at least a year for anyone with any level of dysfunction to recover from, might be bad, and that developers are lying to us about specifically the "need" for destructive new building construction, and that planting their shitty non native decorative trees will replace the mature native growth they had to rip up to build it. like what is it specifically about housing barons that makes leftists so happy to abandon the principles of "believe the capitalists when they tell you their goal is to make a profit above all else". you can literally go on reddit, type in 5-over-1, and find developers and people who work with developers going "yeah we use the cheapest possible materials and cut as many corners as we can make appear 'legal' to build these things, because it makes money". look up "low income housing closing", no one ever shows me numbers on how much low income housing is being lost because those aren't the cool numbers of grim, forward-thinking internet leftist stoicism but actual project housing is constantly being shut down and everyone kicked out because it turns out people who have a lot of problems sometimes have those problems visibly in public and this offends the Bainbridge Island parasites.
sorry folks we had to evict 20 poors who had been living in the Sundew Arms garbage apartment block from 1960 with below-market rent in order to build the new and improved condo, which will actually house fewer people per square foot regardless of the number of units because the rent will be higher and high income people don't have roommates or live with family and well all these shiny new amenities and the Peloton in the communal gym and the mini dog piss park and so on....we have to charge at least $2500. you understand. it's the market stupid. we're Building Housing you can't criticize us for Building Housing. there's a Housing Shortage.
well the government says we have to earmark 10% of the new building to Low Income Housing which means we will probably just pay the nominal fine instead or possibly a single unit will maybe at some point be gingerly allotted to someone who has been on the Section 8 waiting list for hang on let me look it up..."randomly via lottery or several years during which you will be continually means tested and/or kicked off the waiting list without notification or explanation". great. i love urban density. this is so walkable. this cheap carpet offgassing is so identity. are we really that stupid
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From time to time I see notifications with likes of my not quite au with rsa!mobs. Also considering that I liked Neigh from the very beginning and wrote fics about him, one idea came up. I will regret it very much, very much, but..
As if, now my old-new impression of the characters is like this.
Here they are from left to right:
Aro, - we'll leave the names as they were originally intended, in order to honor of the original author - the quietest and most suspicious of the three. You're walking down the street, there he is. You went into the store to buy some groceries, he's standing in front of the checkout. You went jogging in the woods, and there he is, too.
His image plays into his hands as many times as it takes. At some point, you notice him in the distance or, on the contrary, very close, it doesn't matter, and you begin to consider him part of the background. Who are you to bother him, right?
A huge miscalculation on your part. Because when he actually approaches you to talk for the first time - for any reason - you won't suspect anything strange. Hell, you've known each other for so long. Even if for most of this "time" he simply existed. He's become so integral to your life that it's strange to go shopping without seeing at least the top of his head.
His constant sleepiness completes the picture. You can't help but worry about him, because he could be anywhere at any time. Not everyone around you is as kind or understanding as you.
He's not like all the other boys around you. He doesn't get into fights, he's not rude - he rarely speaks, to be honest - he's a model child and student. If there was an award called "Any Teacher's Dream", he would be in nominating hall as well.
He always listens, no matter what nonsense or stupidity you ask. You were talking about the lifestyle of snowy owls, so why did you stop? Aro doesn't mind if you lecture him about these birds, even if it started an hour ago and it's past midnight now.
As soon as he confesses, you… what are you? It's like he's become such permanent part of your life that you have been dating for a long time. You call him for help. You share with him very first breaking news. You ask him for advice. At some point, you have to wonder if you even had any friends before Aro came along.
Silver or Quicksilver, he is that very child who grew up on fairy tales about brave knights who slaying dragons and rescuing princesses. The very one who will come to sing you a serenade under your window and will dodge flying pillows of awakened ghosts along the way.
The one who will be watching you from the far end of the street, on the opposite side, and when you give in and come over to clear things up, he will drop to one knee and propose marriage right then and there. Ignoring your completely unimpressed gaze, he will look at you with his glowing, childlike eyes.
Getting rid of him is some miracle, no doubt, but you return to the dorm, and there is a pair of white doves with a wreath waiting by the door. Where did he even find them? Are there any companies that provide services of specially trained birds that deliver boxes? What do you mean, there is a whole dovecote of them in the RSA? What do you mean, you will receive flowers and gifts regardless of whether you want them or not?
As soon as you give up on trying to appeal to his working brain cells - you have already convinced yourself that he does not have any - he will jump up and start apologizing for his behavior, simultaneously adding compliments to you in his speech. At some point, you come to terms with the fact that the whole street is watching the unfolding scene. No, you are not filming a teen drama. No, you are seeing him for the first time in your life. No, he is not crazy… although, perhaps, people are right about that.
Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you slowly resigned yourself to the idea of turning your dorm into a flower shop. The other students began to run away when they saw you in the hallway, as you handed out flowers to everyone you met. When you ran out of people, you went around for a second round. Then a third...
Good luck trying to explain to this RSA prince, one of the RSA princes, that things don't work like that. As you left with another bouquet, you mentally figured out who you could give it to.
Raven. A fine, well-mannered young man. He never raises his voice, always lends a helping hand to those in need. Wait, why does he have such a sly, suspicious look? If you ask him directly, he will put on an innocent expression and ask in response, “Aren't you imagining things?”
No, you're not. You are more than sure that you have seen the way he looks at RSA-Silver when he thinks that no one is watching. Your compass, magnetized by all the overblots and other NRC students, works like a clock for such things. You will not let his pretty face fool you.
Exactly, but now you are sitting in a cafe and discussing… what were you discussing?.. He has a mysterious ability to bring arguments in the most neglected cases and convince you to do what you initially did not want. After two minutes of conversation, you no longer remembered your complaints about him, as if they had not existed in the first place. All problematic issues are listened to and turn into such trifles that it is worth considering whether you were dissatisfied with something.
He is attentive, always noticing the smallest changes and reading your mood like an open book. You were thirsty, so he hands you a bottle of water. You were thinking about something sweet, what a coincidence, he has some of your favorite candies in his pocket. You seemed to want to eat a certain cuisine, and during lunch he asks if you would like to visit a cafe where it is served.
At some point, everyone starts considering you a couple long before you hear him confess. It's exactly as you wanted it, as well as it completes the picture perfectly. You tried to refuse, but the same thing happens. He turns all your negatives about the relationship into reasons why you should say yes. This doesn't obligate you to anything. You are mature understanding individuals who are taking closer look at each other. Dating someone doesn't mean that you have to spend your whole life together.
However, you get the idea that it will be impossible to break up with him.
#I'll warn you right away I have no desire to return to that series.#I don't remember at all how I wanted to finish or how to develop story etc#by the way you know where to find everything right...#tenshi talk#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland#rsa mob#rsa twst#rsa x reader#rsa oc#twst rsa#rsa!mob#yandere male#yandere male x reader
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Relativity Falls AU: A Slightly Different Take
In a previous post, I said that a Relativity Falls where its Mabel who was technically the Ford in this AU makes a bit more sense in a way.
So, I wanna write out my thoughts of how it can be.
The starting point is based/inspired by a post I've read...a post I can't seem to find and I thought I liked it so I can share a link... Just keep in mind that this was not an original idea.
Just like in canon, Mabel always felt overshadowed by her brother for being the smart twin and Dipper always felt pressure of being the smart twin because of others' expectations.
From that same post, they proposed the idea of using the unused/scrapped episode idea where Mabel creates a new chemical called Mabellium and it caused Dipper to feel jealous.
So, that's what happens here. Mabel creates the chemical and is nominated for the science fair, even winning first prize, which was usually won by Dipper. She would then be given a chance to receive a scholarship for a prestigious school. As much as Dipper should feel proud of his sister, he starts to feel jealous of her accomplishments. He was supposed to be the smart twin and she was supposed to be the fun twin.
That's what everyone said.
Frustrated, Dipper sneaks into the gymnasium where the science fair held and airs his anger out to the Mabellium. He hits the table, causing the Mabellium to shatter. Realizing what he did, he puts rock candy on the table instead. While he makes his escape, he leaves behind a chewed pen.
The next day, Mabel shows the judges the 'Mabellium', only to see bugs gather around the rock candy, causing her to lose the scholarship. Mabel finds the chewed pen and confronts Dipper. She felt hurt that Dipper would sabotage her creation and accuses him of seeing her as the dumb twin. Dipper doesn't really help his case when he basically (at least from Mabel's perspective) said that he deserved the scholarship more than her by saying that Mabel wasn't really into that and would have no use of the scholarship.
(Again, I wish I knew how to find the post that talked about this. If anyone knows what I'm talking about, feel free to tell me!)
This is where things get different because, typically in Relativity Falls, the kids' parents act more similarly to the Stans' parents. Understandable since we don't fully know what Dipper and Mabel's parents are like, and even with the Book of Bill, its up to interpretation. But, taking from my headcanons, their parents are loving and supportive. So, how would the twins split?
Instead of either twin getting kicked out, Mabel decides to run off to prove herself that she can be as smart as Dipper, driving away in her 1960s camper van (a Volkswagen hippie van) that she named Shooting Star that she mostly uses to store her crafting stuff. Upon leaving, Mabel would stumble upon a cryptid, even taking a picture of it. This sparks an idea to find anomalies and prove their existence (as a means to show up Dipper as he liked the supernatural), all the while earning money with her crafting skills. She would eventually be led to Gravity Falls.
The rest is essentially like the AU made by @muggy-b, though maybe with some differences.
As for Dipper's side...he lives a boring college life before living a boring existence as a research assistant up until he gets a call from Mabel years later.
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another issue with the whole "deriving my gender from my positionality under patriarchy" schtick is that like... it's one of the reasons i never saw radfeminism as liberatory? if you derive Being Woman from the action of Being Done Misogyny Against, then your being a woman will forever rely on the patriarchy continuously existing.
like, yes, saying "patriarchy enacts misogyny, here are features of misogyny - x, y, z - and i can see the patriarchy does them to me" makes sense, but when you start doing the "because patriarchy does them to me, it means i am ipso facto a woman" it's just conceding to the patriarchy, imo
radical feminism is fucking depressing and this is one of the reasons the framework works better if you ignore the existence of trans people because trans women like Talia Bhatt presumably don't want to go all "gender abolitionist" like TERFs try to present themselves but I don't understand what the point of this positionality argument if the at least nominal goal isn't to destroy the idea of womanhood lmao
Like, TERFs use the idea to say they're trying to tear down the class of Woman and it not match what they actually do because we all agree they're idiots who are wrong about everything, but how do YOU square this circle? How do you say Womanhood is this oppressed class but insist you want to continue being a Woman, presumably past the point there is no more oppression? A cis woman believing in taxonomic Womanhood makes at least some amount of sense even if I still vehemently disagree with it, a trans woman doing so is just a complete rejection of all logic because it's so contrary to the idea of anyone being trans in the first place. It's mutually exclusive with anyone being trans in any direction. That is the basis of why we don't like TERFs.
unfortunately "look I found a way to say we're 🅞🅑🅙🅔🅒🅣🅘🅥🅔🅛🅨 women" is so appealing that people don't think it through
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a couple of leafstar questions! 1) is the process of selecting her to be new!skyclan’s leader changed at all by the fact that brokenstar is now firestar’s travelling buddy? 2) is billyleaf sticking around as a ship, and how will it change, if at all? 3) is leafstar going to be as… notably dumb in her reactions to everything happening so far in ASC?
The list of SkyClan changes is probably longer than the list of things that are staying the same. Cultural expansions, a very different culture, unique politics, even an alternate Warrior Code. Real fans of SkyClan want them to be completely different <3
Leafstar's not an exception. I HATE canon Leafstar. Every action they've taken with her has felt absolutely awful since Firestar's Quest so I'm just overwriting her completely.
SkyClan's Leadership
The part of Firestar's Quietus where Firestar and Brokenstar actually CHOOSE who the new leader is going to be is a bit up in the air. I have the beginning and end with the rats figured out-- but the middle has been evading me.
I know that Brokenstar prefers Sharpclaw, at first. Probably because Sharpclaw is so aggressive and dedicated to the old ways.
So it makes sense that Firestar prefers Leafdapple. She's making him realize things about his own way of ruling, parts of Clan culture he's come to accept uncritically.
She straight up blows past his thought-terminating cliches;
Firestar: "You see, Leafdapple... you can't live with a paw in both worlds."
Leafdapple: "Pardon? I don't understand what that means?"
Firestar: "It means... um... hmm ._."
In the end, she's probably chosen exactly because she's not committed to bringing back the past. SkyClan has not been the Clan of Skystar for a long time. It's the Clan of Skywatcher.
It is no longer the Clan-in-the-Canopy, it is the Clan-in-the-Stones.
I feel that the first Leader and Deputy were chosen by Firestar and Brokenstar. Though Brokenstar's mind changes over the course of Firestar's Quietus, I think they ultimately still agree that there were two "sides" of SkyClan that should live in balance.
Leafstar, committed to fairness, abides this. Until Sharpclaw ultimately betrays her for The Kin. (Repeat link from above but if your eyes just popped out of your head it explains everything about how PROFOUNDLY differently I'm approaching The Kin lmaoo)
I hadn't planned explicitly for the deputy system to work a bit differently here, BUT it does also feel in line for Leafstar to decide it on a whim after regrouping. Surrounded by the remnants of her Clan, deputy having just turned half of their warriors against them, SkyClan's protector oak ripping itself off the cliffside and destroying their camp, she jumps up on top of a rock like, "Ok team, that sure was a doozy. Let's try to pick a better deputy this time 8)"
It feels better that deputies are popularly "elected," or at the very least nominated by the Clan. Might make for a nice climactic moment in a rework of Hawkwing's Journey.
Is Billyleaf sticking around?
Yes! But it's actually a bit different.
First of all, Leafstar is actually in a constellation with Billystorm and Echosong, the Cleric. Leafstar is mates with Billystorm and a partner of Echosong. Echosong is not romantically involved with Billystorm. SkyClan actually split off from the main Clans before the Cleric's Vow was codified by Larkstripe's strike. They don't have the same taboo against Clerics having mates or raising kittens.
Billystorm is also a massive himbo now lmao, I'm not a huge fan of him in-canon. I'm still reworking stuff here though-- I'm planning to change SkyClan and the Stranger into Sol's Game, a darker story diving into Sol, the Entity, and Harry, the vessel it courts.
But it's been a while and I need to revamp my old drafts, so that's on the backburner for now.
Is Leafstar going to remain an idiot?
absolutely not. christ. I Don't Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done but if I ever produce something as brainless as "An entire society believes that a child is lying because her accused murderer says he heard her mother snoring evil manipulation plans in her sleep" then explode me to bits with 10000 pounds of nitroglycerin
instead of just having her and everyone else be dumb, it's an easy enough small change to just have Splashstar already be in power and show the beginning of his reign having gone smoothly. Everyone's desperate for RiverClan to have a leader again. Have Leafstar's bias be against ShadowClan specifically, because Heartstar's nephew Juniperclaw mass-poisoned her entire Clan.
Even before then, too. I don't like how the Erins seem to treat Leafstar as this "unreasonable" character who's usually some shade of wrong. I don't like how she just has to accept that Sharpclaw was undermining her for her own good in SkyClan's Destiny. I don't like how Dodge dragged SkyClan into his stupid conflict. Or how she went back to the Gorge after Juniperclaw's poisoning, only to be herded back by the noble Clan cats when a sudden flood makes their old home unsafe for some reason.
I don't like how she only seems to get a "win" when she's accepting or asserting that the Clans have the perfect way of life and she should resemble it more-- see the opening of AVoS, where it's strongly implied that Daylight Warriors being unable to fight to defend the camp at night was how The Kin was able to throw everyone out, and thus the practice has been abolished since then. I think these conflicts are frustrating in the way they're written and presented.
So quite frankly I'm tossing a lot of it. First and foremost, SkyClan's primary conflicts should be trying to keep its unique cultural identity. Secondary conflicts should be based around its political interactions with the other Clans at the lake, particularly ShadowClan and ThunderClan, which it shares borders with.
BB!Leafstar's personality is that she's assertive, fair, and polite. In my head I lovingly imagine her always speaking in the tone of a corporate manager trying to keep control of her team as the office goes up in flames around her. While she always tries to consider all perspectives and stay approachable to all her warriors, she's often misinterpreted as being passive-aggressive or not genuine.
In a nutshell: I am personally making sure she's not the sort of dumb she is in canon. I have a vision for this version of SkyClan.
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This is such an important article, the above link is a gift 🎁 link so that anyone can read the entire article, even if they don't subscribe to The New York Times. Here are some highlights:
Two prominent conservative law professors have concluded that Donald J. Trump is ineligible to be president under a provision of the Constitution that bars people who have engaged in an insurrection from holding government office. The professors are active members of the Federalist Society, the conservative legal group, and proponents of originalism, the method of interpretation that seeks to determine the Constitution’s original meaning. The professors — William Baude of the University of Chicago and Michael Stokes Paulsen of the University of St. Thomas — studied the question for more than a year and detailed their findings in a long article to be published next year in The University of Pennsylvania Law Review. [...] He summarized the article’s conclusion: “Donald Trump cannot be president — cannot run for president, cannot become president, cannot hold office — unless two-thirds of Congress decides to grant him amnesty for his conduct on Jan. 6.” [...] The provision in question is Section 3 of the 14th Amendment. Adopted after the Civil War, it bars those who had taken an oath “to support the Constitution of the United States” from holding office if they then “shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the same, or given aid or comfort to the enemies thereof.” [...] The article concluded that essentially all of that evidence pointed in the same direction: “toward a broad understanding of what constitutes insurrection and rebellion and a remarkably, almost extraordinarily, broad understanding of what types of conduct constitute engaging in, assisting, or giving aid or comfort to such movements.” It added, “The bottom line is that Donald Trump both ‘engaged in’ ‘insurrection or rebellion’ and gave ‘aid or comfort’ to others engaging in such conduct, within the original meaning of those terms as employed in Section 3 of the 14th Amendment.” [...] The provision’s language is automatic, the article said, establishing a qualification for holding office no different in principle from the Constitution’s requirement that only people who are at least 35 years old are eligible to be president. “Section 3’s disqualification rule may and must be followed — applied, honored, obeyed, enforced, carried out — by anyone whose job it is to figure out whether someone is legally qualified to office,” the authors wrote. That includes election administrators, the article said. Professor Calabresi said those administrators must act. “Trump is ineligible to be on the ballot, and each of the 50 state secretaries of state has an obligation to print ballots without his name on them,” he said, adding that they may be sued for refusing to do so. [color/emphasis added]
Let's hope that election administrators across the US read this article and begin to set in motion the mechanism to prevent Donald Trump from appearing on ballots across the U.S., in case he does get the GOP nomination.
#trump#14th amendment section 3#trump cannot run for public office again#william baude#michael stokes paulsen#the new york times#gift article
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It has truly been an awful few days and with the impending Globes noms on Monday I feel it will only get worse from here and if anything-The CCA snub has shown this fandom cannot have serious conversations when it comes to race. So many of you are either too privileged or too anti-black. Only a few have managed to stay on topic and of course were attacked for it.
On one side, you have people who wanted to use this as a gotcha in regards to Assad (not all but some). On another, you had those who wanted to call out the anti-blackness towards Jacob but made sure to center their love for Sam so they don’t lose their Sam mutuals. Then, you had the twitter Sam antis with their near sociopathic hatred for him who were using this as an opportunity to tear him down once more, and lastly, you had the Jam shippers who writing fanfic about Sam’s hypothetical win reducing Jacob to his damsel.
ALL OF IT was hyper-focused on Sam and undervaluing who’s important: Jacob and Delainey.
They were the leads of season 2 and season 2 is being recognized. For those of you who act color blind they are BLACK. Most of the people speaking up on their behalf are black (with some non-black allies.) This was and is black business and black business is not a conversation to be highjacked by a hundred different things. What happened to Jelainey was not only a display of racism but anti-blackness which many white and non-black poc in this fandom can’t seem to grasp.
I mean this in all sincerity but some of you can’t even utter the word black, and then there are the open anti-black Louis hating (poc?) like Ultrapoppet who could only call people dumb, black Karens, and feel anger towards justifiable outrage on Jelainey behalf and not understanding how their annoyance towards that outrage was a strange reaction to have.
Season 2 was not about anyone but Louclaudia. And as I’ve said before, I had no delusion that Delainey would be nom’d. She MORE than deserved it, but the voters hate black women more than they hate black men. That’s why when I saw Jacob’s FYC I thought at least maybe he would have a chance. From what’s been said online the critics supposedly love him. His performances got rave reviews, and yet these same critics passed on him? Why? If they loved him so much? They know he was the driving force that propelled season 2 to universal acclaim. They said it themselves. They also know he is #1 on the call sheet (whether that billing changes in s3 is TBD) and he is The Vampire in question.
These factors are why the CCA passing on him was blatantly anti-black and why so many felt compelled to call it out. To nominate the show but not nominate the Jacob? Intentional. In this glorified MAGA climate we’re in I can’t help but feel this is only the beginning.
If Jelainey are not nominated on Monday but only the show and Sam are again please make sure to keep the focus on Jelainey. Do NOT center Sam.
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Ko-Fi prompt from Isabelo:
Hi! I'm new to the workforce and now that I have some money I'm worried it's losing its value to inflation just sitting in my bank. I wanted to ask if you have ideas on how to counteract inflation, maybe through investing?
I've been putting this off for a long time because...
I am not a finance person. I am not an investments person. I actually kinda turned and ran from that whole sector of the business world, at first because I didn't understand it, and then once I did understand it, because I disagreed with much of it on a fundamental level.
But... I can describe some factors and options, and hope to get you started.
I AM NOT LEGALLY QUALIFIED TO GIVE FINANCIAL ADVICE. THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVICE.
What is inflation, and what impacts it?
Inflation is the rate at which money loses value over time. It's the reason something that cost 50 cents in the 1840s costs $50 now.
A lot of things do impact inflation, like housing costs and wage increases and supply chains, but the big one that is relevant here is federal interest rates. The short version: if you borrow money from the government, you have to pay it back. The higher the interest rates on those loans, the lower inflation is. This is for... a lot of reasons that are complicated. The reason I bring it up is less so:
The government offers investments:
So yeah, the feds can impact inflation, but they also offer investment opportunities. There are three common types available to the average person: Bonds, Bills, and Notes. I'll link to an article on Investopedia again, but the summary is as follows: You buy a bill, bond, or note from the government. You have loaned them money, as if you are the bank. Then, they give it back, with interest.
Treasury Bills: shortest timeframe (four weeks to a year), and lowest return on investment. You buy it at a discount (let's say $475), and then the government returns the "full value" that the bond is, nominally (let's say $500). You don't earn twice-yearly interest, but you did earn $25 on the basis of Loaning The Government Some Cash.
Treasury Notes: 2-10 year timeframe. Very popular, very stable. Banks watch it to see how they should plan the interest rates for mortgages and other large loans. Also pretty high liquidity, which means you can sell it to someone else if you suddenly need the cash before your ten-year waiting period is up. You get interest payments twice a year.
Treasury Bonds: 20-30 years. This is like... the inverse of a house mortgage. It takes forever, but it does have the highest yield. You get interest payments twice a year.
Why invest money into the US Treasury department, whether through the above or a different government paper? (Savings bonds aren't on sold the set schedule that treasury bonds are, but they only come in 30-year terms.)
It is very, very low risk. It is pretty much the lowest risk investment a person can make, at least in the US. (I'm afraid I don't know if you're American, but if you're not, your country probably has something similar.)
Interest rates do change, often in reaction or in relation to inflation. If your primary concern is inflation, not getting a high return on investment, I would look into government papers as a way to ensure your money is not losing value on you.
This is the website that tells you the government's own data for current yield and sales, etc. You can find a schedule for upcoming auctions, as well.
High-yield bank accounts:
Savings accounts can come with a pretty unremarkable but steady return on investment; you just need to make sure you find one that suits you. Some of the higher-yield accounts require a minimum balance or a yearly fee... but if you've got a good enough chunk of cash to start with, that might be worth it for you.
They are almost as reliable as government bonds, and are insured by the government up to $250,000. Right now, they come with a lower ROI than most bonds/bills/notes (federal interest rates are pretty high at the moment, to combat inflation). Unlike government papers, though, you can deposit and withdraw money from a savings account pretty much any time.
Certificates of Deposit:
Okay, imagine you are loaning money to your bank, with the fixed term of "I will get this money back with interest, but only in ten years when the contract is up" like the Treasury Notes.
That's what this is.
Also, Investopedia updates near-daily with the highest rates of the moment, which is pretty cool.
Property:
Honestly, if you're coming to me for advice, you almost definitely cannot afford to treat real estate as an investment thing. You would be going to an actual financial professional. As such... IDK, people definitely do it, and it's a standby for a reason, but it's not... you don't want to be a victim of the housing bubble, you know? And me giving advice would probably make you one. So. Talk to a professional if this is the route you want to take.
Retirement accounts:
Pension accounts are a kind of savings account. You've heard of a 401(k)? It's that. Basically, you put your money in a savings account with a company that specializes in pensions, and they invest it in a variety of different fields and markets (you can generally choose some of this) in order to ensure that the money grows enough that you can hopefully retire on it in fifty years. The ROI is usually higher than inflation.
These kinds of accounts have a higher potential for returns than bonds or treasury notes, buuuuut they're less reliable and more sensitive to market fluctuations.
However, your employer may pay into it, matching your contribution. If they agree to match up to 4%, and you pay 4% of your paycheck into an pension fund, then they will pay that same amount and you are functionally getting 8% of your paycheck put into retirement while only paying for half of it yourself.
Mutual Funds:
I've definitely linked this article before, but the short version is:
An investment company buys 100 shares of stock: 10 shares each in 10 different "general" companies. You, who cannot afford a share of each of these companies, buy 1 singular share of that investment company. That share is then treated as one-tenth of a share of each of those 10 "general" companies. You are one of 100 people who has each bought "one stock" that is actually one tenth of ten different stocks.
Most retirement funds are actually a form of mutual fund that includes employer contributions.
Pros: It's more stable than investing directly in the stock market, because you can diversify without having to pay the full price of a share in each company you invest in.
Cons: The investment company does get a cut, and they are... often not great influences on the economy at large. Mutual funds are technically supposed to be more regulated than hedge funds (which are, you know, often venture capital/private equity), but a lot of mutual funds like insurance companies and pension funds will invest a portion of their own money into hedge funds, which is... technically their job. But, you know, capitalism.
Directly investing in the stock market:
Follow people who actually know what they're doing and are not Evil Finance Bros who only care about the bottom line. I haven't watched more than a few videos yet, but The Financial Diet has had good energy on this topic from what I've seen so far, and I enjoy the very general trends I hear about on Morning Brew.
That said, we are not talking about speculative capital gains. We are talking about making sure inflation doesn't screw with you.
DIVIDENDS are profit that the company shares to investors every quarter. Did the company make $2 billion after paying its mortgages, employees, energy bill, etc? Great, that $2 billion will be shared out among the hundreds of thousands of stocks. You'll probably only get a few cents back per stock (e.g. Walmart has been trading at $50-$60 for the past six months, and their dividends have been 57 cents and then 20.75 cents), but it adds up... sort of. The Walmart example is listed as having dividends that are lower than inflation, so you're actually losing money. It's part of why people rely on capital gains so much, rather than dividends, when it comes to building wealth.
Blue Chip Stocks: These are old, stable companies that you can expect to return on your investment at a steady rate. You probably aren't going to see your share jump from $5 to $50 in a year, but you also probably won't see it do the reverse. You will most likely get reliable, if not amazing, dividends.
Preferred Stocks: These are stock shares that have more reliable dividends, but no voting rights. Since you are, presumably, not a billionaire that can theoretically gain a controlling share, I can't imagine the voting rights in a given company are all that important anyway.
Anyway, hope this much-delayed Intro To Investing was, if not worth the wait, at least, a bit longer than you expected.
Hey! You got interest on the word count! It's topical! Ish.
#economics#capitalism#phoenix talks#ko fi#ko fi prompts#research#business#investment#finance#treasury bonds#savings bonds#certificate of deposit#united states treasury#stocks#stock market#mutual funds#pension funds
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Sparks were a huge part of Warren Peace's life.
Everything seemed to start with them. His mother and father had felt that proverbial spark, fucked, and created him.
He, in turn, shot sparks from his fingertips, just like the old man. They created huge, blazing bonfires, or small blazes.
There was a spark of evil in his father. It drove him insane, made him commit heinous acts that make Warren cringe mentally. (He tried to never let pain outside).
One thing was for certain, at least.
Warren had never experienced any good kind of spark. The only time he felt at peace (no pun intended) with the flames inside him was when he put on his show for his mother. Even then, he felt as though he were trying to atone for a crime (or several) that he didn't commit.
(He didn't bother to remind himself he was being a hypocrite; hadn't he blamed Stronghold for something his father did? And it wasn't as if the old man hadn't deserved it. But still).
Stronghold.
Just the name made Warren's blood boil.
The kid was so incredibly stupid. He was immature and naïve and worse, he still had round, childish features.
He couldn't understand why Gwen Grayson liked him so much.
Not that Warren had ever liked Gwen, either. He hadn't. She was like the brunette, superhero version of a Barbie doll, and he couldn't stand it.
In his opinion, they were a match made in heaven. Or hell. Depending on the perspective.
What was painful was watching his old sidekick friends stare after him like lost puppies. Especially Layla Williams. Her gray eyes held so much hurt and betrayal, he couldn't stand to look at her for long. (So why did his eyes constantly rest on her whenever she was in sight?)
He found himself observing her. The way she walked (and how her ass looked when she did it) the bright red of her hair (he clenched his fists, imagining tangling his fingers in it while he… or better, while she…), her smile.
Her smile.
For some reason, it got to him. It looked almost familiar, and made something stir inside him that he kept trying to push back.
Warren decided he really needed to get laid. Soon. Get these damn hormones out of his system so that maybe he'd stop noticing Stronghold's friend. (Even if it was his subconscious messing with him. On a conscious level, he still hadn't really registered this fatal attraction).
Because everyone knew that "future villains" and hippies just don't mix.
Warren really fucking hated his boss.
Seriously. Warren wasn't even fucking Asian. He'd picked up quite a bit of their language, and had recently started taking tons of shifts, but that didn't mean the retarded, short, Yoda-like pig could yell at him like an indentured fucking servant. In Chinese.
Asshole.
Warren huffed out a breath and resisted the urge to roast him, instead reaching for a wet cloth and wiping down one of the tables.
He tossed the cloth back into the sink, and was about to get a fresh one when one of the women yelled from the kitchen.
"There a girl that been sitting there for long time. Ask if she need something!"
If there was one thing Warren hated, it was customer interaction.
Grumbling under his breath, he approached the booth she had pointed at. "Still workin' on that?"
The girl looked up sharply.
Red hair.
Gray eyes.
Tantalizing curves she never showed off properly.
Fuck.
"Hey," Layla said.
"Hey." Well. This was awkward.
"We go to school together."
Warren nodded, shifted on his feet. "You're Stronghold's friend." Stronghold's, Peace. Fucking Stronghold's. Pull yourself together, would ya?
To his surprise, Layla scowled, and Warren watched in a little bit of awe as the flower in the vase on the table wilted a bit. "Not for long."
Warren couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, but then he looked away. Just because she and Stronghold were having issues didn't mean he was nominated for Replacement BFF. Or better, FWB. "Yeah… So… Uh….Want me to heat that up for ya?"
Layla looked back at him, seeming shocked. "You're not supposed to use your powers outside of school!"
Oh yeah. That was in the handbook, wasn't it? Warren vaguely remembered skimming over it before turning it into ash.
Unable to resist, he leaned closer to her, so close he could see the blue flecks in her eyes. "I was only going to stick it in the microwave."
Layla's eyes widened, and she blushed as red as her hair, then leaned back jerkily. "Oh."
Warren smirked.
"Um, I was, um," (Did he really get her that worked up?), "supposed to be meeting Will here, but…You wanna sit down?" She gave him a small smile. Not the one he loved, but…
Warren blinked once, not quite believing this was really happening, then glanced back to make sure the boss from hell wasn't watching.
"I guess they can spare me a minute," he sighed, and slid into the booth across from her.
He felt his knees touch hers and froze as he finally felt what he'd wanted to feel his whole life; good sparks.
Warren's entire body relaxed. He looked her in the eyes. The he smiled, really truly smiled, and a tiny blaze lit on his finger.
Layla had started to smile back, probably without even realizing it, then her eyes jumped to the flame.
Warren reached over and lit the candle in front of them, then let the flame extinguish. She giggled.
(She didn't berate him about the no-powers-outside-of-school-thing, either. Mission fucking accomplished.)
"So Stronghold ditched ya?" Warren asked, leaning forward subconsciously, trying his hardest not to stare at her lips.
"Yeah. He's been…a jerk lately." He could tell she was holding back, and it irked him.
"Don't hold back. Call him what you want to." He deserves it. Warren smiled, "I promise you won't corrupt me."
Layla ran her eyes over him, and Warren felt a sort of warmth rush throughout his body. Girls checked him out on a daily basis, but this felt different.
"He's been a complete and utter… Ass! A total asshole!"
Warren grinned, extremely amused. "Ha! Wow. Never thought I'd hear Hippy cuss. I'm proud."
And in some weird way, he was.
Layla smiled a little and shrugged, looking down at the table.
"So why'd he ditch you? I mean, I always figured he was a few tools short of the whole shed, but…" Damn. He hadn't meant to let the compliment slip out.
But it made Layla smile a little more. It was so close to that smile… "He's probably off with Gwen."
Figured that was what was going on… "I would say green isn't a pretty color, but that's pretty much all you wear."
As though his emotions were connected to hers, he could sense something change instantly inside Layla. She turned from docile and harmless into a hurricane in less time than it took to blink. "Damn it, I am not jealous!"
She slapped her hand down on the table, and Warren resisted the urge to jump. That was a violent gesture, and even though he didn't really know Layla Williams, he knew she was not a violent person. At all.
"I'm mad! No, I'm furious! Will has been my best friend since we were in diapers, and now we go to a new school and he sees one pretty- well, okay, perfect- girl, and all of it's down the drain? I mean, what the fuck. This is ridiculous, I don't even know why I'm still here."
She was so goddam hot when she was pissed.
She flushed in the most delicious of ways, and warm tremors ran through Warren's whole body, and he could practically see sparks flying off her from pure anger. He wasn't sure if they were good or not.
But he liked them.
Still, she was throwing quite a fit, and if Boss Man saw him sitting down the last few minutes of his shift… "Geez, Hippy, take one of your chill pills would ya? There are other customers in here."
Layla froze across from him, every inch of her body going rigid. He watched several thoughts flit across her face at once, and none of them were good. (He was amazed. She wasn't guarded the least bit. She was completely pure and expected no one to take advantage of her. Deep down inside, it made Warren feel protective over her, but there was no way in hell he'd admit it).
"Oh my God," she breathed, and just as instinct told him to reach over across the table and put his hand over hers before she had a complete meltdown, and his fingers twitched, about to do just that, she focused those gray eyes on the flower in the vase, and he watched as it bloomed bigger than it had been before.
She created, and he destroyed.
He never felt so unworthy in his entire life. (Guiltily, all the half-realized fantasies he'd been having surfaced, and he almost blushed with shame. Only almost, though. He was Warren Fucking Peace after all).
Finally, he said, "You okay?"
"Um, yeah. God, Warren, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, I-" Layla stuttered.
Warren inconspicuously glanced at the clock. Shift over. Yes. "Just stop. Wait here."
He got to his feet and yanked off the stupid apron he was forced to wear. (Why the fucking hell did he have to wear the damn thing anyway? He wasn't a dumb ass cook).
He retied his hair back because the stupid loose strands got on his nerves (not for Layla Fucking Williams), then swung his jacket over his shoulder.
He was overheated enough without wearing it.
He grabbed a fortune cookie on the way out, one of many with the same fortune inside it, along the wall in a thousand cardboard boxes. Sorting those out was such a bitch.
He grabbed one that he thought fit Layla's situation. It could come in handy.
He also grabbed another, a bit of a plan forming.
Maybe if he let this whole Will thing get out of her system, she'd give him a chance.
"Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm taking you home," Warren said it as casually as possible, and he hadn't realized until just then that that was his intent, but whatever. (He was such a motherfucking retard. He didn't even know where she lived and this was Stronghold's best friend and she was too innocent for him anyway and this whole stupid ass thing was a bad idea.)
But Layla didn't question him. She nodded slowly, left a ten on the table, followed him outside.
His body followed hers automatically, and they fell into step walking down the sidewalk.
"Normally I'd ride my bike, but I don't think we're quite to that level yet." Warren smirked, carefully observed her reaction.
"You have a motorcycle. Why am I not surprised? That's very cliché you know." Layla teased, but was that a flash of nervousness behind her eyes? Interesting.
(And "yet"? What the hell did he expect to happen?)
Still, roles seemed to be reversed with her. She was the flame, he the moth.
And for once, he didn't really mind.
"Oh please. I'm the only one around here that can really pull it off." He bumped against her, unable to resist himself.
She grinned, and Warren's stomach tied itself into knots just like a fucking girl. "That's more like it." That was hissmile.
HAD THAT BEEN OUT LOUD? FUCKING HELL, PEACE.
Layla looked away and cleared her throat a little, and he resisted the urge to flame up and punch something. He was so incredibly retarded.
"I really am sorry. About that. That is not me, not at all." She apologized sheepishly.
"I know. So. Will is with Gwen, and now you're in agony because you're in love with him."
Oh, the bitter irony. The one girl he feels that fated spark with, the one he's waited pretty much his whole damn life for, and fucking Stronghold turns her on.
To his surprise, Layla's mouth dropped open in indignation. "I am not in love with Will Stronghold!"
Warren simply eyed her doubtfully, refusing to hope.
"I'm not!"
"You have to be at least crushing. It's incredibly obvious." Warren couldn't resist an eye roll.
"Crushing I can admit to," Layla said.
Crushing Warren could deal with. He'd made plenty of girls swoon that had "crushes" on other guys. Crushing was in no way permanent, and not nearly as sticky as loving.
"So why don't you just ask him to Homecoming and get it over with?"
"Two problems: Gwen, and also his stuck up attitude here lately. He won't even answer my calls, out long acknowledge me in person." He could hear the sadness in her voice, see the way her shoulders slumped as she stared down at the concrete.
Familiar anger rushed through him on her behalf. Stronghold really was an ignorant asshole. Couldn't he see what was right in front of him?
"Stronghold really is an idiot," he huffed. No harm in letting her know that he thought well of her, right? "Alright, Hippy. Just ask him. Get to the bus stop early tomorrow if you have to. I'm assuming he's been avoiding you there, too?"
Walk before you run, Peace. She wants Stronghold.
For now.
Deciding now was a good time to break out the first fortune cookie, he took it out of his pocket, bit into it. "Besides, to let true love remain unspoken is the quickest route to a heavy heart."
Warren always had liked how poetic these things sounded, to be wrapped up inside a bland, twisted little cookie.
Layla stared at him, clearly impressed. "Wow. That is really deep."
Silly Hippy. Hadn't she seen him eat the fortune cookie?
"Yeah," Warren nodded, fighting back a smile. "And your lucky numbers are 4, 16, 5... and 49."
"Oh my God, you read that off a fortune cookie?" She laughed, and he focused on her smile, letting her snatch the little piece of paper from him.
"Doesn't make it any less true," he shrugged.
They stopped walking in front of a standard looking two story suburban house.
She glanced over at him, looking half shy and half extremely grateful. "Thank you. Really. You're actually pretty great when you're not hurling fire at people."
He had that one coming, but he still rolled his eyes. Again. "Yeah whatever."
Abruptly, Layla pressed herself up against him, skinny little arms wrapping around him as best they could.
He was surprised at how it felt. She was so soft and warm. She was at least six inches shorter than he was, fitting snugly against his chest.
His entire body could have burst into flames, and for once, he never would have noticed.
She smelled like lilacs.
He awkwardly wrapped one arm around her and squeezed back. She was so tiny nestled there against him he felt like he could snap her in half. (He had never been good at hugging anyway.)
"Step away before I singe you." Seriously, if she didn't back off, he was going to catch fire right then and there, which would potentially be very bad for Layla.
"You just have to ruin the moment don't you?" She sighed, and he let her think that that was what he had meant.
He gave her the fortune cookie for Stronghold, and a few seconds later she was wiggling her fingers at him and he was trying not to glance back at the woman in the window watching them.
He walked back to his bike with the feeling of sparks running up and down his fevered skin.
Oh yeah. He was in deep shit.
LINE BREAK!
The day started out normally enough.
Warren rolled out of bed. Took a shower. Bent over to kiss his mother on the cheek because she was working on some huge assignment for some government or other and looked worn out. Stuffed cereal down his throat. Went to school.
That's where things started getting weird, which probably shouldn't have surprised him seeing as it was a school for fucking super powered teenagers, but still.
Layla was dressed to kill, shoving books in her locker with more force than necessary, talking to Stronghold.
He couldn't tell what they were saying from this far away, but she looked pissed.
Warren frowned a bit. She should look happy. Hadn't Stronghold used the one brain cell he possessed and told her yes?
(He wanted to run his hands over her pale thighs, up under the tight skirt, feel her-)
Layla slammed the locker shut, jarring him out of his fantasy. "Will, SHUT UP."
You tell him, Hippy.
"I don't care what you think, I don't care who you're taking to, and I don't care for your incessant whining. What I do is no longer your concern."
Sounded like a break up line if Warren ever heard one. Not that she and Stronghold had ever been together, anyway…
He couldn't resist staring at her as he passed, in smug satisfaction. And lust. Lots of lust. God, he wanted her, he wasn't even going to deny it now.
(It kind of freaked him out a bit).
Warren liked space.
More specifically, he liked personal space.
Which was why he wasn't too damn upset that no one would ever sit with him at lunch.
So as fucking hot as Layla looked today, and as proud as he was of her for telling Stronghold off, it still kind of irritated him when she plopped down across from him.
"Hi Warren."
She was nervous, that much he could tell.
"Did I say this was okay yesterday? Because it's not."
She tried to smile at him, but it was totally fake. Not the smile he wanted to see. Not the one that gave him good sparks. "Haha, you're so funny. But, no, seriously. So, I was just about to ask Will to Homecoming this morning, and wouldn't ya know it, I told him I was going with you instead."
Warren couldn't do anything but stare at her. Was she serious? He did not do school functions. Of any kind. "You're kidding."
Layla shook her head and went back to nervously poking her salad.
No wonder she was so tiny. She didn't fucking eat.
Out of no where, in swooped the purple sidekick. (What was her name? Magenta? Damn. Her parents got real creative). She almost reminded Warren of himself, except minus all the daddy issues.
This didn't mean he particularly liked her though.
Glow-Stick and Popsicle sat down next, and Warren felt his blood begin to boil. Layla he could handle. Layla he wanted to handle.
These people? Not at all.
Layla grimaced all of a sudden across from him, and he followed her line of sight.
Ah. Will and his posse were making their way over.
Fucking fantastic.
"Hang on a second Gwen," Will said when he had approached their table. "Layla, can I talk to you?"
He practically dragged her out of her seat, and Layla followed him hesitantly outside.
Oh hell no.
That little prick was not getting Layla alone.
Without really thinking about it, Warren jumped out of his seat and followed. If nothing happened, then it was just a precaution. If something did….
He waited just outside the doors.
"What?" He heard Layla ask. She sounded exasperated.
"Look. I don't know what's wrong with you lately, but I want it to stop." Way to be forceful there, Stronghold.
He sounded like a whiny little kid.
"I'm not acting any differently." Layla didn't sound very upset.
"Warren's probably having some kind of effect on you, I told you to stay away from him-"
Of course. Blame it on the super-villain's kid. Classy.
"Warren is a great guy!"
Warren hardly dared to breathe. She was defending him. Against her long time best friend. Holy shit. "If you actually took five seconds to talk to him, you might realize that."
A pause, and then, "Layla, I'm begging you. Break it off."
"No."
Elated heat seared through him at her declaration.
"Break it off."
"No!"
Warren shifted just a bit so he could see…
"I said dump him!" Warren saw Stronghold grab Layla's arm, heard her wail and fall to the ground.
Without even thinking about it, he was blazing, and fury consumed him. It was easy to throw Stronghold against a wall, denting it.
It was difficult to resist tearing him apart.
"Touch her again, and I'll run a stake through you like the goddam marshmallow you are, then roast your puny ass." Warren snarled.
The image was a comfort.
Stronghold jumped to his feet and took off, and if Warren hadn't been so concerned about Layla he would have went after him and taught him a real lesson.
But as it was, Layla was still slumped on the filthy hallway floor, and his first priority was her. (When had that happened?)
He crouched down in front of her, tilted her chin up. He was shocked to find her eyes and cheeks dry.
She was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.
"You okay?"
He wasn't even ashamed when his voice came out all soft and caring.
"Yeah. He didn't mean it, really, he's super-" No fucking way was she defending the bastard.
"Strong, I know. Doesn't make this okay."
He reached for her arm, but she jerked it away. "Don't!"
Her eyes were wide; confused and hurt and tired and frightened all at once.
"I won't hurt you, Layla." Not ever. Please. Please let me…
She held out her arm trustingly, and Warren held back a triumphant grin. He rotated her arm gently.
"He could've done a lot more damage," he finally proclaimed.
It didn't make him want to kill Stronghold less.
Still, he had to get this bruise taken care of before it made her arm start to swell. "It'll definitely bruise, but it should fade in a week or so. Come on."
He held his hand out and resisted the urge to shudder when Layla put her hand in his without question. Her fingers rested against his perfectly. Her skin was so soft.
He lead the way to Nurse Spex's office, and he left Layla waiting outside. As badly as he wanted to get Stronghold at least a detention for what he did, he knew she'd protest.
The little old woman was behind her desk, check marking a paper absently. "Hey Nurse Spex."
She looked up, then broke into a wide smile. "Mr. Peace. Back for some burn salve again?"
Warren gave her a small, respectful smile. He'd had to practice it in a mirror a dozen times freshman year. She had been the only one not to be afraid of him, or mention his father. When he got in trouble for starting- or ending- fights, she was the only one to see right through his anger, the only one to calm him down with a single reproachful look or light touch.
She was the closest thing to a grandmother he'd ever had.
"Nope. Bruise salve and some ice."
"Mhm," she murmured, eyebrows shooting up. Warren shrugged sheepishly, letting her think he'd done something wrong yet again, instead of something very right. "Don't you send any more kids in here today Warren Peace!"
Oh. That was right. He had slightly injured that stupid ass in first period this morning when he made a snide villain remark…
"No mam, I won't." Nurse Spex was the only person he'd called mam in his entire life.
She handed him the salve and the ice.
"Thanks."
"Sure. You're a good boy, Warren. Act like it every now and then," she urged, patting him fondly on the shoulder.
Warren had to laugh at that. "Not a chance."
She nodded in a figures kind of way and waved him away.
He couldn't resist grabbing Layla's hand again, and this time he led her outside, to what he thought of as his Cooling Off Place. Whenever he got too angry or upset to think clearly, even to talk to Nurse Spex, he stormed right through those doors and out here. None of the windows in the school looked out into this little corner, so no one saw him ditch. "This way."
"We're probably not supposed to be out here." Layla bit her lip, and Warren had to resist the urge to lean in and bite it himself.
"Probably not. Oh well." He settled on the grass, and Layla sat down next to him. He rubbed the cool substance on her arm.
"Thanks."
"I've had a few bruises in my time." More than a few.
He couldn't stand her looking so unhappy. He had to make her laugh, had to make her smile that smile… "I think the nurse has a thing for me." He winked to add to the joke.
That did it. She laughed, and Warren sighed a bit.
He wrapped the ice around it next, then leaned back against the tree. He liked the feeling of the bark against his back. What to talk about…? "Going dress shopping soon?"
The fuck, man? Dress shopping? Way to make her think you bat for the other team.
She didn't seem to think anything was wrong with his question though. "I don't know. Maybe."
She looked away, quiet for a moment, before she added, "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I didn't mean too, it's just that he gets me so worked up and I wasn't thinking."
It took him a few minutes to catch up. Oh, right. She'd told Stronghold (who'd told everyone else) that they were going to Homecoming together.
How could he deny her when she was the only one to defend him? And against her lifelong best friend, as well?
"Don't give yourself a brain hemorrhage, Hippy. I'll go along with it."
The light in her eyes when he said it made it worth it. "Really?"
"Mhm. Just don't expect me to rent a tux." He hated the damn things.
"…Okay." Thank God she didn't throw a bitch fit like most girls would.
Layla settled on her back, and within ten minutes she was out like a light.
Warren couldn't help but stare at her. The way her red hair shown in the sun, the way her pale skin met the grass, the way her chest rose and fell evenly.
She was beautiful, a word Warren wasn't very familiar with.
He woke her when the final bell rang, and she yawned and smiled at him, and he couldn't help but imagine her waking up next to him like that, in his bed, her lips swollen and their bare bodies pressed together…
He almost had to shake himself to get the image to leave his mind enough for him to speak. "Here, keep this. Put it on every night, okay?"
"Sir yes sir." She smirked.
He couldn't resist. To hell with letting her come to him in her own time.
He leaned in close, so close his lips were almost against her ear. He could practically taste her. The smell of lilacs and earthy tones and just pure Layla overtook him, and he almost groaned aloud. "That's Mr. Peace, sir, to you."
He smirked, and to his complete and utter delight, Layla fucking shivered. Hell yes.
"Don't think I didn't notice that," he said, and he couldn't hold back the triumphant grin this time.
She flushed bright red.
He was really beginning to look forward to Homecoming.
She was driving him fucking nuts.
And he loved every bit of it.
Not only her, but her friends. (Worse, he was beginning to like the sidekicks. They were growing on him, attaching to him like barnacles.) They sat at his table every day and kept up a constant (often very amusing) chatter.
And after school, when he went to work, Layla would eventually show up and stay until closing time.
That's what was driving him crazy.
He'd found, over the hours and hours and hours they spent together, that he could touch her. That he fucking lovedtouching her. And she wouldn't shirk away from him, or flinch, or anything.
In fact, she welcomed him.
The night that she held his hand, really held it, with their fingers interlacing, had been the most intense thing he'd ever experienced. And he wasn't even a fucking virgin.
Her tiny fingers had slid down his thigh easily, innocent of what she was doing to him, and slipped in between his with ease.
His entire body had shuddered, and when their eyes met, he felt so many good sparks he'd thought he'd flamed up right there.
He wasn't even sure this could be called a spark anymore. It was so much more, so much larger.
He hadn't been able to help himself. He was tired of denying himself. He leaned in, and she did too… so goddam close…
And then the boss yelled.
Warren had stormed into the kitchen and screamed Chinese curses for half an hour after that, glad that the kitchen was well insulated so that Layla couldn't hear.
His boss stopped being such a douche after that. Not entirely though.
He'd never taken things so slowly with a female before, and it was torture. A slow burn, eating it's way through him.
When he got her on the bike, and her hips had fit against his, and he could feel her breasts crushed against his back, he didn't think he'd be able to concentrate enough to drive. He imagined turning around, crushing their fronts together, smashing his mouth against hers with bruising force.
Christ, he wanted her.
But he wanted her to be comfortable with him, too. He wanted to share the things he loved with her, wanted her to know him.
So he had to show her what the bike could do before he showed her what he could do to her on the bike.
Damn these newfound emotions of his.
Layla was lying on top of him, and Warren was pretty sure he'd died and gone to heaven by some rigging of the books.
Actually, he was pretty sure that had happened when she'd sat down on his bed, her gray eyes staring so intensely up at him.
When she'd kicked off her shoes and laid back easily, casually, he'd almost had a heart attack. Surely she wasn't going to suggest they…
She didn't.
He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed, or both.
Still, as they talked, she slowly moved closer to him. First her head ended up on his shoulder, both of them sprawled on their backs.
Then she'd put one of her legs across his, and eventually she rolled over, onto his chest, and just like he'd wanted, their fronts were pressed together.
He'd instantly brought an arm up to secure her to him, and brushed his fingers through her hair like he'd wanted to from the moment she walked into Sky High.
"And if you're so tired of being stereotyped, stop wearing green so damn much."
It really was beginning to wear on him.
She rose an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What color should I wear instead, then?"
He studied her, imagined her in lingerie of every shade.
The sexiest he could think of was, "Red."
She was quiet for a moment, and he just enjoyed holding her.
What if he were to tilt her chin up, like he had the day Stronghold had hurt her arm? What if he were to kiss her right now, softly, the way she deserved to be kissed? Rolled her underneath him and touched her the way she should be touched?
"Why did you agree to go to Homecoming with me?"
The question jarred him more than it should have, and he found he didn't want to answer. "Why did you tell Will I was your date?"
He always called Stronghold 'Will' around Layla.
"Touché," she mumbled.
He stared at his ceiling and tried to think of something profound to say.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her lips against his cheek.
It took every ounce of self control he had not to turn his head to the side and press his lips against hers.
Then she moved to his jaw, and it struck him how wrong it would be, to ravage her right here and now, in his bed, with nothing to stop them. They hadn't even been on their date tonight yet, for Christ's sake!
Layla deserved better than that.
Better than him.
So carefully avoiding touching their lips, he turned his head to look at her.
How was this amazing person lying next to him right now? How could Stronghold give this up?
Fucking moron.
He brushed her hair out of her face gently, and she sighed contently, looking so kissable he almost combusted. "We should get going if we're gonna make it to the movie."
Her face fell, and the satisfaction Warren felt from the fact that she wanted to kiss him too was bittersweet. "You're right."
"Tell me."
"No."
"Come on, Hippy, just a hint!"
"Not gonna happen."
"Let me know the color, at least! It's not green, is it?"
If her dress was green, he'd burn it right off her.
Not that he wasn't thinking of doing that regardless of the color, anyways.
"I will get this out of you," he threatened, absently swiping the grungy rag across the table a few more times.
"You can try…" she said unconcernedly, and Warren couldn't help but think of all the different ways he could persuadeher to tell him.
He shot a glare at her that he didn't really mean and tore his apron off. She just smiled, not intimidated at all by his menacing attitude.
When they got on his bike, he took it slow, wanting to savor the way she fitted against him, enjoy the way her chest moved against his back when she breathed.
She relaxed against him and laid her head on his shoulder blade.
No one had ever been relaxed around Warren before. (His mother didn't count). He found he liked the feeling.
Layla had pointed Stronghold's house out to him once, and when they came upon it they found bright lights and pulsating music.
Stronghold was having a party.
He heard (and felt) Layla scoff behind him and grinned wickedly.
He wouldn't mind Layla grinding up against him to the beat, and if it pissed Stronghold off, well, that was just icing on the cake.
"Wanna crash it?"
"Sure!"
He sped up and hit the curb, rode up the slight incline to park right in the front yard. Layla squeaked and he smiled a bit.
She took his hand again, leading him to the doorway. He couldn't help but feel proud to walk in with her. He didn't understand why, but he knew he liked it.
The inside of the house was nice in classy sort of way, and he could tell the place was normally kept immaculately clean. Furniture was over turned now, spills stained the hardwood and carpet, and some things were broken. Reflected light leant a weird glow to the place, and most kids there were either wasted out of their mind, making out, dancing, or all three.
"Shittiest party I've ever been to," Warren declared, and it was. Stronghold was clearly an amateur at this.
"Ditto," Layla nodded, but he could tell she was pretty innocent when it came to these things. Her eyes were wide in shock and disgust, but really, this was pretty tame.
Layla moved forward, looking around, and that's when one of the Pennys closed in.
Warren squeezed her hand, frowning protectively, and almost missed the grateful little smile Layla shot his way.
Gwen popped up out of fucking no where then. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"
"Who invited the sidekick?" Penny called out, and just like that, everyone in earshot turned to look at them.
Warren's free hand clenched into a fist. Layla can handle this.
"Where's Will? Tied up on a leash out back?" Layla's voice held more bite than he'd ever heard it.
"He's avoiding you, actually. Come on, Layla. Will knew you liked him." If that were true, and Stronghold had still hurt her the way he had, Warren would fucking kill him.
Layla didn't seem very concerned though. "Did he?"
He shuffled closer to her when he felt her start to tremble. (Whether it was in anger or pain he couldn't tell, but he couldn't stand it either way). She leaned back against him and he resisted the urge to wrap both arms around her.
"Uh huh. Obviously he'd not interested. He's just too nice a guy to tell you so himself." Gwen smiled then, and if she wasn't clearly a female, Warren would have hit her. Hard.
"He wasn't too nice," one of the Pennys said, "to tell us, though. God, he is constantly whining about what an obsessive little bitch you were, calling and trying to make plans all the time."
Layla did a full body flinch against him, her head and shoulders drooping just enough for him to notice. "Whatever."
Gwen just wouldn't let up. "I mean, take a goddam hint, would ya? He's going to Homecoming with me, he's throwing a party and didn't invite you, and he's too embarrassed to be seen with you at school."
Layla's voice was borderline desperate now, and Warren began searching for a way to step around the bitches without them being able to block them from leaving.
He couldn't find one.
It was killing him to just stand here and let her take this, but at the same time he knew that if he didn't let her stand up for herself, she'd be pissed at him in the end, too, and he couldn't have that.
"I don't care, alright? Whatever was going on with me and Will- or not going on- is over now, so just back the hell off!" Layla yelled, and seeming to read Warren's mind, she tried to sidestep Gwen and failed.
"Oh, that's right," Gwen said, her gaze settling on Warren. He snarled at her. "Layla's got a new boy toy now. Warren Peace, resident psycho."
Resident psycho? Was that really the best she could do?
Gwen looked back at Layla. "Careful, Layla. You never know when he'll turn evil. Wouldn't want to get too involved with a guy destined to end up like his father; worthless and locked up like an animal."
As angry as that made him, it seemed to make Layla furious. More upset than when they'd been ragging on her even. Her entire body tensed, and Warren knew the feeling well; she was about to go off.
He couldn't let her do that. Not on his behalf. She'd feel so awful about it later. "Whoa, Hippy. Calm down."
Gwen snorted. "Like she could do anything."
"You wanna see what I can-" Layla started, then stopped. Warren felt her take a huge breath, felt her muscles relax slightly. "Come on, Warren, let's go. This was stupid."
He slid his hand down her arm until he felt her fingers, then guided her to the door as swiftly as he could.
This had been a very horrible idea. What had he been thinking?
"Layla!" He heard Stronghold call, and grinded his teeth together. Two more seconds, and they would've been out the door!
Fucking hell.
To his delight, Layla didn't seem to be in a chatty mood. "Fuck off."
He'd definitely made a dent in her vocabulary, that was for sure.
But, but, I mean," Stronghold stuttered.
Enough was enough.
"Save it," Warren growled, allowing his free hand to finally ignite in a warning.
Stronghold's face hardened. "When did you become such a, a, a bitch Layla? You used to care."
Layla turned away, and Warren saw her face crumple.
The little bastard had made his Layla cry. Oh hell no.
"Have fun with Gwen, Stronghold," he spat, throwing a ball of flame and barely missing Stronghold's head. "You two are perfect for each other; you never did deserve a second of Layla's time."
Warren ushered Layla out of the house and slammed the door behind him. She stumbled down the porch steps, her torso shuddering with her sobs, her arms crossed across her chest.
Warren had never felt pain for another person before, except for maybe his mother, and even then, it was tinged with resentment because she had brought it upon herself. Layla had done nothing to deserve this. Nothing at all.
"Whoa, whoa," Warren said softly. "Whoa, Layla. Shhh. Calm down."
Unable to resist himself, he wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face against his chest and he drew soothing, mindless patterns against her back with his thumbs.
"I'm so sorry, Warren," she gasped. "I'm so sorry, this was a horrible idea."
She thought this was her fault?
Guilt consumed him. Why hadn't he just drove her home? Why did he have to let his ego get in the way?
"I was the one to suggest crashing, if you remember," he huffed. Fuck me. "This was my fault."
"No," Layla shook her head against him. "It's Will's."
Warren couldn't argue with that.
"Layla?"
Warren turned his head to see the Commander and Jetstream strutting up their walkway, looking confused and concerned and heroic.
Warren absolutely refused to let Layla go even for one second. He just stood there with her wrapped securely in his arms, observed the man responsible for his mother crying alone in her room for hours on end, even though both she and everyone else knew his father had deserved it.
"Layla, sweetheart, what is going on here?" Jetstream asked, and it shocked Warren for a moment that Layla was so familiar with the couple before he remembered that she had been their son's best friend since they were in diapers.
Small fucking world.
"Will is throwing a party," she sighed.
"Well we can see that. Why? And why are you so upset?" This bumbling idiot was the one that saved the world every other day?
"I guess because his prissy little girlfriend asked him to," Warren answered the Commander's first question.
For the first time, the Commander seemed to really see Warren. His eyes widened in recognition and Warren glowered, knowing what was coming next.
"You're… You're Barron's boy!"
No shit Sherlock. "Yeah."
Jetstream instantly interfered. "Layla, I apologize for whatever Will has done. Warren, it was nice meeting you. Come on, Commander, we've got a son to severely punish."
Warren didn't recall saying his name, but it didn't surprise him that she knew it.
She dragged her husband to the door, and unlike him, didn't spare him a second glance.
"Where are we?" Layla sniffled, her arms crossed across her chest.
She looked tired. Sad. But most of all, she looked guarded, something she had never been. It killed Warren. Made him physically ache. Nothing in the world should ever make her look like that. Certainly not a fucking pussy like Stronghold.
She was so beautiful, even now. He'd never wanted anything more in his life than her.
"Come here."
She moved instantly, standing just a few inches in front of him.
He thought about fucking the show he had planned and just kissing her senseless right then and there, but he took a deep breath he hoped she didn't notice and focused.
His eyes met hers, and when they did he tapped into his power, and a large circle of fire sprung up, thirty feet away in either direction.
Layla's eyes went wide and she gasped, and Warrens smiled. This was so going to be worth it.
Might as well give her the background story.
"When I was little," he began, "around six or seven, when I was finally able to control my powers, my mother and father went to war again. It killed her to do it, because she loved him. Still loves him."
He didn't fucking get it. How his mother could be so infatuated with such a man. But if she felt anything for Battle like Warren felt for Layla, he supposed he couldn't blame her. (Even though a small part of him did blame her, and always would).
Layla listened intently, and that made it so much easier to just make the words flow.
"Sometimes, when she thought I wouldn't notice, she'd go lie in bed for hours and not get up. She didn't sob her eyes out, and I almost wished she had, because that would've made sense, ya know? But she just laid there and one tear would come out at a time…" Warren had forbade himself from remembering those days, and he sure as hell had never discussed it with anyone.
But he could share this with Layla.
He was almost ashamed of the soft, ragged way his voice came out, but then he noticed her stray tear, and when he wiped it away, he figured that emotion was probably a good thing.
Well. With Layla it was a good thing.
"I couldn't stand it. And I thought I was adding to the problem; I have the same power as my father, and I got to thinking that all the destruction I caused when I lost control made her even more sad. So I came up with a way to show her that fire isn't just destruction, and also make her happy again. Practiced for hours outside, while she laid in bed."
His body starting to get in the groove of things again as he told his story, he let another ring pop up outside of the first, burn brighter and larger. Layla's eyes flickered to it, and then back to his.
"It worked. It made her happy again. I still do it sometimes, when things get really bad." He stepped a few feet away from her and stripped his shirt off, not giving himself time to think about stupid ass inhibitions.
By the way her eyes widened, and the way she licked her lips, Warren had nothing to worry about.
He opened his palms toward her, and felt the telltale heat start underneath his skin. Soon little drops of fire began dripping off him, into the grass. Sometimes they landed on his wrist though, and he deliberately let them grow, let them follow the path of his red tattoos, farther up his arm, onto his shoulder. Soon they cascaded down his chest, and he kept his eyes on Layla and her clear amazement.
He'd never been so proud of his ability in his entire fucking life.
Layla smiled that smile at him, and he smiled back, and it was the first time he could remember that he didn't have to put any effort into it.
He bounced a ball of fire back and forth across his shoulders and she laughed.
He let another ring pop up around them, then another, closer and closer to them. He wanted to see how she reacted.
She didn't flinch. She didn't shy away.
This encouraged him, and he decided to try something he'd only ever done once.
It was easy to set his torso and arms and hands on fire. It was as easy as breathing. He had to think a bit about his legs, and he never deliberately did anything above his shoulders.
But once, his mother had come staggering in from an interview sobbing her eyes out, sliding down the front door.
His little show hadn't been enough to cheer her up, and then he'd come up with an idea.
He'd burned the back of his throat and had been unable to eat anything but soup for two weeks.
He knew he could do it now. Could do it for Layla.
So very slowly, he let the heat inside him build up, travel through his neck, line the inside of his throat. He felt it thrum through his pulse point.
He took a deep breath, then opened his mouth wide and released it. Above him, bright flame filled the sky, and he released his entire breath before letting his head drop back down.
He wasn't hurt at all.
"Oh my God!" Layla laughed, looking at him in utter awe.
He laughed too, enjoying her reaction to him. That was one of the best "Oh my God!"s he'd heard in reference to him ever.
He felt the excess energy in him spread out into the ground, and he let geysers of flame burst up everywhere, and turned it all different colors.
Just not green. Green really got on his fucking nerves.
"You're amazing," Layla breathed, then blushed like she hadn't meant to actually say it.
Warren smirked. "I try."
And he would try. For her, anyway. Everyone else could go to hell.
He made the flames on his body smolder out, then stepped closer to Layla, until he could see all the little blue flecks in her eyes. "Now for the grand finale," he murmured. He took her hand in his, loving the way she let him do it, the way she was no longer guarded at all anymore.
"You have to trust me completely for this to work, alright? You can't freak out."
A flicker of excited apprehension darted across her face. At least it wasn't outright fear. "What's going to happen?"
"You'll see. Pick a color." He knew what she would say as soon as she opened her mouth, so he cut her off. "Not green."
"Prejudiced," she grumbled, but didn't seem truly miffed. She smiled. "Blue."
An image of her in nothing but a blue lacy thong popped into his head. It had been the second hottest. "Is that the color of the dress?"
"You'll have to wait and see," she teased.
He couldn't resist an eye roll. "Alright. Blue it is."
He felt the fire start in his hand, then immediately transferred the energy to Layla's hand. Her palm caught on fire instantly, the blaze a pretty blue.
She yelped and started to yank her hand away, but Warren was prepared for this and held on tight. "I told you not to panic, Hippy. If you freak out, it'll burn you."
She relaxed instantly, her eyes flickering from the dancing flame to meet his.
It took him a moment to find his voice. She made him speechless without even fucking trying.
"Purple."
He changed it instantly.
"Oh wow. This is incredible. How are you doing this?"
He shrugged, not quite able to find the words to properly describe the energy, the heat in his veins. "I dunno. How do you make flowers bloom?"
He could tell she didn't have a sufficient answer for that either.
"Thank you, Warren. So much." She whispered, looking up at him with those eyes and those gorgeous lips that made the smile…
He let go of her hand, and his fingers tingled where he'd held it.
Fuck it. The time is now.
He wanted her.
Now.
Slowly, half expecting her to step back, to tell him no, he brushed some hair out of her face. He shuffled closer, giving her plenty of time to escape his advances.
She didn't.
He was pretty sure his heart was about to fucking combust it was beating so fast. He'd never felt like this with a girl before. Figured it would be the goddam hippy to break him.
He brought his hand up to cradle her cheek, felt her jaw and cheek bones, brushed his thumb against the edge of her lips.
"Warren…"
His name came out like a plea, and he almost lost it. He almost flamed up, almost created an explosion of flame that would've consumed them both.
Out of the corner of his eye, he did see the flames on the ground that were still going burn higher, brighter.
"Layla…" he breathed, and it was the closest thing to a prayer he'd ever uttered in his life.
Then his mouth was on hers and everything he could possibly comprehend was pure Layla.
Her fingers twisted into his hair, pulling him closer, and this shocked him more than anything else. He expected Layla to want soft, gentle, but here she was, pressing herself against him so passionately it made his head spin.
Getting over his initial shock, he clutched at her lower back, licked her bottom lip. She tasted so sweet, like honey almost.
She opened her mouth instantly, rubbing her tongue against his. Her moan went right through him, and he deepened the kiss, taking over her mouth with his tongue, rubbing it against the roof of her mouth.
She gasped and rubbed herself against him, and he made a mental note to do that again.
He could feel their powers clashing, trying to find balance, and knew she felt it too. His fire was burning higher, brighter, hotter, and he knew he'd lose complete control soon if they didn't find some common ground.
Fire and earth didn't mix. Period. He could feel the heat in his veins trying to take over, to consume, to destroy.
He'd been to fucking kindergarten. Smokey had taught him all about forest fires, and he was terrified to hurt Layla.
Already he could feel himself holding her a little too tight, kissing her a little too hard. Not that she was complaining. In actuality, she was matching him stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss.
Just as he thought he'd have to break away, have to call it off, boom. Something clicked.
Several images flickered through his mind at once. A picture of the sun, huge and glowing. Sunlight filtering through tree leaves. The Earth's molten core, lava spewing from a volcano, making life possible.
A never ending cycle. A way for fire and earth to be completely compatible, completely reliant on each other.
Layla felt it the second Warren did, and he broke their kiss to breathe while holding her against him firmly.
He couldn't stop touching her though. He wouldn't. Not now that he knew what he knew. That they were made for each other, that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Mother fucking love of God, he wanted her.
They were both breathing hard, panting almost, and he ran his tongue behind her ear, sucked on her neck, scraped her collarbone with his teeth. She pressed little kisses to his cheek and jaw and bare chest, any part she could reach.
He lifted her up against him on instinct, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He felt her grin against his mouth, and that was almost better than this kisses.
But only fucking almost.
Then she went back to kissing him and flicked her tongue against the roof of his mouth in payback. Shudders went down his spine, and he growled playfully. He let her go to tangle his fingers in her hair, pressing her lips against his more urgently. She supported herself, clenching her legs around him, and messing with his hair too.
Almost hesitantly, she rubbed her center against the bulge in his jeans, and he almost fainted like a damn girl. He groaned, and she moaned, and the frenzy started all over again.
When they finally stopped millions of years later, Warren felt short of breath, unsatisfied, and extremely sated all at once.
He had a hickey where his neck met his shoulder and Layla's lips were swollen.
He felt amazing.
"I should get you home," he managed, and almost kicked his own ass. I should get you home? Damn it all, Peace.
"Probably," Layla muttered. She didn't seem to like the idea.
Unable to help himself, he kissed her again, sweetly and lightly this time. When he dropped her off, he kissed her a little deeper even though he knew her mother was watching out the window.
His mother looked up from her tea when he came in with a small smile on her face. "How's Layla?"
"Fine," he said shortly. He thought of the desire in her eyes, thought of the way her body arched and moved against his. He smirked. "Well. A little better than fine."
His mother's eyebrows shot up, and then she grinned. "About time."
"Go to bed," he called over his shoulder as he went up the stairs, smiling sheepishly. She just laughed.
He was in love with Layla Williams, and he wasn't even ashamed to admit it.
He. Had. Nothing. To. Wear.
Why had he been an arrogant prick as usual and refused to go rent a tux like every other normal teenager with a school dance?
He couldn't show up looking like a fucking retard now. Not when Layla meant this much to him.
He huffed at his image in the mirror. A pair of extremely singed khakis were not going to cut it.
His mother's voice from his doorway startled him. "Need some help?"
He refused to admit it. He just stared at her.
She giggled a little, then turned and gestured for him to follow her. "Come on."
He trailed downstairs, to her bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed while she rifled through her clothes to reach the back of the closet.
She reemerged with a long garment bag. "I know you have daddy issues, but…"
And she unzipped it to reveal a tuxedo.
His eyes met his mother's for a full second before he snatched it and disappeared into her bathroom to change.
The damn thing fit fucking perfectly.
Well son of a bitch.
"You're more handsome in it than your father ever was," his mother said.
Damn straight.
"Layla is one lucky girl."
That he couldn't quite agree with. He was the lucky one.
He was almost late by the time he got there. The decorating committee had tacky taste, but what could you expect from a bunch of teenage supers?
He spotted Layla instantly, talking to Mr. Boy, and his stomach almost dropped through the floor.
She was wearing red.
More specifically, she was wearing the sexiest red dress he'd ever seen in his life. It clung to her like a second skin, and he couldn't help but imagine peeling it slowly off of her, revealing creamy skin and curves.
The fuck-me heels she was wearing wasn't helping his overactive imagination either. He could just picture her in absolutely nothing but those, all bent over and-
He stopped himself right there. He took a deep breath before approaching her.
"Don't mind him. He is such a jerk," Layla was saying to Mr. Boy.
"Hope you're not talking about me," he said, and Layla whirled around.
He scanned her from head to toe, trying to memorize the way she looked. God, she was beautiful.
No, gorgeous.
No, flawless. That was it.
"Red, huh? Nice choice." Perfect choice.
"I thought you weren't going to rent a tux?" She asked quizzically.
"It was my dad's," he shrugged, trying to be blasé. "He doesn't have much use for it in solitary."
He appreciated her effort to hide how touched she was by his gesture. She leaned in and pressed her lips gently against his. He smiled when she pulled away.
After they'd made enough small talk, Warren pulled her over to a corner of the gym. He kissed her the way he'd been dying to since he told her goodbye outside her house. His hands were on her hips, and he slid his leg between both of hers.
He tilted his head, and she ran her tongue between his lips, stroked her hands across his shoulders. He couldn't get over how incredibly sensual she was.
He pulled away from her, ran his tongue across the shell of her ear. She shuddered, and he imagined her doing that while underneath him. "I fucking love what you're wearing."
She shivered against him and pulled his head back around so that they're lips were touching again for another searing kiss.
"I thought you would," she breathed when she pulled back, smiling. He couldn't resist staring at her, letting his gaze linger on her cleavage and the shape of her hips…
She pulled back the jacket and collar of his tux to reveal the quarter-sized purple blotch she'd made. Her smirk sent waves of heat rolling through him, and he groaned when she bent her head to lick his bruise. It ached in the most delicious of ways at her touch.
"Maybe we should just ditch this shindig altogether."
"Most powerful super-being ever to walk the halls of Sky High… Me!"
Layla snapped her head to the side at Gwen's announcement, and Warren followed her gaze just in time to see Grayson rip her skirt right there in front of everyone, revealing some sort of suit of armor and a helmet.
"What the fuck?" Warren managed.
What looked like bolts of lightning burst from Gwen's fingertips, and out slid signs reading Royal Pain.
Warren knew a thing or two about villains, and he knew enough to realize that this was not fucking good.
A weird little elf thing cackled and skipped onto stage, releasing a secret hatch on the podium and handing Gwen some sort of gun.
Magenta rushed over and grabbed Layla's arm. "What the hell is going on?"
"I…I don't know…" Layla stuttered.
Zach and Ethan were right behind Magenta, and together, they moved closer to the refreshment table, closer to the exits.
The voice of the Commander rang out. "Royal Pain… is a… girl."
"Yes I'm a girl, you idiot." Gwen's voice did not sound like Gwen's voice. It was unnatural, robotic. "Now prepare to be Pacified."
Layla and Warren shared a worried glance while the Commander scoffed. "You really think you can kill me with that thing?"
"My dear Commander, who said anything about killing you?"
And then she pulled the trigger. Energy that looked light lightning shout out and hit the Commander square in the chest. He shrunk immediately, and the sound of a baby crying echoed throughout the gym.
Bursts of more lightning-stuff shot out as Royal Pain aimed at others, hitting adults and students alike. People screamed and panicked, running as fast as they could-
Only to have the exits barricaded by Speed, Lash, and Penny.
"Boomer, get the kids out of he-" the principal started to scream before she was also hit.
"Sparky, find an exit," Coach Boomer ordered Warren, and started to continue, before he was hit as well.
Served him right for starting with the whole Sparky nickname anyway, dammit.
Still, an exit would be nice.
"Come on," Warren said, looking around a bit before spotting their way out; the vent in the wall.
He held Layla back, his first instinct to protect her, then sent fire hurtling toward it. It fell off easily, and Magenta rushed past them, crawling inside. Layla followed, and the boys fell in line behind them.
They crawled as fast as they could, and Warren tried very hard not to think about the way Layla's dress hugged her and the fact that Zach was behind her, not him.
They twisted and turned, leaving the screams and bursts of light behind. After awhile, they slowed down, and Magenta asked, "Where the hell are we?"
"In a vent?" Zach said in a duh sort of tone.
"Smart ass," Magenta hissed.
Warren held back a snort.
"Hey Warren, how about a torch?" Ethan asked.
Frustration ate his way through him. He was utterly worthless in these damn vents. Helpless. "Not unless you wanna be barbequed."
An eerie green glow filled the vents, and Warren saw the girls fall to the side in front of him to let Zach past.
"And then all the reindeer loved him…" Magenta sing-songed.
Well what do you know. Little freshman actually does have a power.
"Hey, way to glow man!" Ethan snorted.
Warren came upon Layla, and she reached out to stroke his cheek, squeeze his hand.
He appreciated the sentiment, but now was not the time to get all sappy.
He huffed and blew hair out of his eyes, motioning for her to go on.
And this was why he didn't fucking do school functions.
"We've gotta get out of these goddam vents," Magenta griped in irritation.
Warren couldn't agree more.
"Head this way," he suggested, pointing randomly. There was another vent opening in the wall.
They did, and as soon as Zach reached the metal barrier, it was ripped away.
"Sup, kid?" Zach said.
Magenta and Layla crawled out after him, and Warren saw Layla freeze. He was on his feet next to her in an instant.
Stronghold was here, and Layla was clearly not okay with that.
He threw a protective arm over her shoulders, and felt her relax minimally.
Ethan fell out of the vent, then popped back up. "Hey, Will."
Way to be smooth there, Popsicle.
"You guys are never going to believe this! Gwen-"
"Is Royal Pain's daughter?" Layla asked flatly.
"Yeah! And she-"
"Stole the Pacifier?" Zach chimed in.
"Right, yeah, and she's turned everyone into babies, including your parents, dude." Ethan sighed.
Will looked more than freaked out. "Okay, that I didn't know."
"I think this is more than anyone can handle." Layla groaned, turning and leaning against Warren.
He loved that she trusted him enough to take care of her.
He especially loved the look on Stronghold's face when she did.
"Who, you and Warren? The rest of us are only sidekicks." Magenta hissed.
Stronghold sighed. "Just because someone has powers doesn't make them a hero. Sometimes it just makes them a jerk. It makes me a jerk."
Layla stiffened in his arms and turned around at that, and Warren felt his heart begin to crack again.
Fuck it all, she was going to forgive him, and forget all about Warren.
Stronghold went on. "Layla, I'm so sorry. I never meant anything that's happened these last few weeks."
Warren braced himself for the blow.
"And in case my homecoming date ends up killing me tonight," Stronghold just didn't know when to fucking stop did he? "I just want you to know-"
No. Please no. NO.
"No Will. No." Layla's voice echoing his exact thoughts startled him, and he watched as she took a step back, away from her former best friend and crush.
What the fuck was she doing?
Apparently Stronghold had no more of a clue than she did. "W-what?"
"I said no. I-" Layla cut herself off, then continued. "I'm in love with Warren, okay?"
Warren fully believed he was dreaming. There was not another explanation for this fuckery.
"Please tell me you're joking." Stronghold said weakly.
Layla turned her head to stare up at Warren, and he got lost in her gray eyes. "No. I'm not joking."
"I love you too," he whispered, feeling his heart speed up at her declaration and his own words, not caring he was in front of bunch of her- okay, their- friends, and he leaned down to kiss her-
"Isn't that sweet? I hate sweet," Penny snapped from behind them, standing between Lash and Speed.
"You guys are involved in this too? Why am I not surprised?" Stronghold asked, glaring.
Uh, weren't these his fucking friends? How the hell had he not been able to tell they were evil?
Still. It was time to take these fuck-tards down.
"Go take care of Gwen," Warren said darkly, "we'll handle these bitches."
With one last despairing look at Layla, Stronghold ran off, straight through a wall.
Show off.
Lash reached out, grabbing Magenta by the throat. "Hey there little rat. Hard to transform now, huh? Worthless. You shouldn't have even been allowed into this school."
"Maj!" Zach yelped, reaching out, catching her when Lash let her go. He pulled her back into the air vent, and Warren could hear her gasps and wheezes, and Zach trying to take care of her.
Last straw.
Warren stripped off his jacket and flamed up. Speed rushed past him, and Warren took off running.
He barely had time to register the Pennys going after his Layla. They turned in the opposite direction, towards the cafeteria.
He remembered how fierce and strong she could be, though, and decided not to worry too much.
Speed stopped at the end of the hall, and zoomed around in zig-zag patterns and circles. "Come on, hit me!"
Warren through some fire and missed. Speed was just so damn fast.
"Right here!" Speed cackled, then moved out of the way again.
He zoomed past and Warren went running after him again, back the way they had come. He barely had time to see Ethan emerge from the bathroom (vaguely he wondered what had happened to Lash) when Ethan melted and Speed went skidding.
Warren through a fireball one more time, one of his largest yet, and it hit Speed straight in the back. He went hurtling through a wall, and continued to flame.
Warren smirked, approaching Ethan. "Fuck yeah, Popsicle."
They bumped fists.
Warren could see the use in having hero support.
He heard Layla's heels clicking before he saw her. He raced back through the halls and met her where they conjoined.
She raced to him, and he held her tight against her. She was safe. "Hey," he breathed, kissing her. He noticed the glass in her hair, cutting into her shoulders, and began picking it out.
"Come on, there's no time for that. We need to get to Principal Powers' office," Layla grabbed his hand and drug him along behind her.
"What, why?"
"Because we need a map to the antigravity device. Royal Pain sabotaged it, we have ten minutes until we start falling." She summarized.
He started to run.
They hit the door head-on, Warren blasting right through it. They scourged the cabinets and finally found what they were looking for- the internal map of the school.
They found Ethan, and ran back to the vent together. "Zach, Maj!"
They crawled, out, Magenta still seeming shaken. Layla explained once again and laid the map out on the floor.
Warren leaned against the wall, keeping watch, while they tried to come up with a plan.
"Here's the antigravity room," Layla pointed.
"Didn't Royal Pain seal off every route?" Magenta pointed out.
"Hey, what about this?" Ethan pointed.
Zach snorted. "Yeah right, you'd have to be like a rat to fit in there."
Everyone instantly looked at Magenta. She winced and averted her gaze. "Don't use that word."
Zach's eyes widened in understanding and he reached out, drew her to him, kissed her on the forehead. It was about time he stepped up. He'd been drooling after her since Day One. "C'mon, Maj, You're the only one who can do this."
After a moment's hesitation (What choice did she fucking have?) she nodded.
Warren really hoped Stronghold was as capable of fighting as the Commander. He and Layla were racing through the halls, trying to find him and Royal Pain.
They followed the sound of fighting back to the gym, now empty of babies and barricades.
"Will!" Layla called when she saw him pinning Royal Pain down.
He glanced up, and Royal Pain hit him hard, sending him flying backwards and crashing through the window.
"No!" Layla yelped.
Warren stood there stunned. He basically hated Stronghold, but he had never wanted to see him actually die.
(Well, okay. Maybe he'd wanted that once or twice. At his hands.)
"And there goes your last chance at stopping me," Royal Pain announced.
"We'll see about that," Layla snarled, taking several steps forward. Warren held her back. He couldn't lose her.
Surprisingly, she stopped mid-step, and that's when Warren noticed that Stronghold was hovering outside the window, flying.
Fucking figured. (Still, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved. He told himself it was for Layla's sake.)
"Surprised?" He called. "Yeah, so am I."
"You're flying?" Royal Pain gasped. "That's impossible."
Stronghold surged forward, grabbing her and carrying her upwards, then dropping her and hitting her as hard as she'd struck him. Her helmet went flying off and she laid motionless.
For a beat everything was still, and then Stronghold was up and running to grasp Layla in a bone crushing hug and she returned it, and Warren couldn't even find it in himself to be angry, but he still tried to pull Layla away while clapping Will on the back-
And then the floor dropped out from under him.
Layla shrieked and grabbed onto Warren. "The school is falling!"
"Oh God, if we make it out of this I'm going to kill Magenta," Warren groaned, and gathered Layla to him.
They could hear Ethan and Zach screaming out in the hall, and Warren just wished desperately that the free-fall feeling in the pit of his stomach would go away.
He would never admit it, but he was more terrified than he'd ever been in his entire life.
Layla clutched at him, and he held her tighter.
It wasn't fair. They were going to die before he even got to make love to her.
"Warren," she cried, and it was then he realized she was sobbing.
He knew they only had a few precious seconds left.
He gritted his teeth and held her tighter, pressed a kiss to her forehead.
He loved her so much.
He couldn't help but think of his mother, all alone when he was dead, splattered across the destroyed gym floor like a bug.
And just like that, it was over.
They stopped falling.
Slowly, they started rising, and Warren couldn't stop shaking.
"Oh my God," Layla whimpered, their hold on each other just as tough as it had been when they were falling.
"Holy fucking shit, mother of Jesus," Warren gasped.
They laid there on the floor together until they stopped moving, and even then, it took effort to peel themselves from their spots.
Then Ethan, Zach, and Magenta came running in.
Anger licked its way through Warren. "Took you fucking long enough!"
"I'm sorry!" Magenta squeaked.
Layla hugged her, and Zach and Ethan clapped Warren on the back.
Will came flying back in. "Ron Wilson needs us, but first we should probably take care of Royal Pain and her posse."
They decided to put them all in the detention room until Principal Powers was back to herself and could decide what to do.
They unloaded all the babies, and then stood around awkwardly.
"Um… Now what?" Layla asked.
"Perhaps I could be of assistance," a small voice piped up.
Yep. Warren was officially done with school functions.
After everyone was back to normal, Principal Powers called all the students and faculty back into the gym. "I think it's only fair we let the students continue their night! School will be out all of next week, however; we need to make repairs."
The assembled teenagers cheered.
The group looked at each other, standing in the back corner. "I really just wanna get out of here," Magenta muttered.
"Me too," Layla nodded.
"I've had enough excitement to last me a long time!" Ethan yawned, rubbing a hand over his face.
"I don't wanna leave you alone," Warren frowned, brushing a curl off of Layla's neck.
He never wanted to let her out of his sight again.
"I don't want to leave any of you guys," Zach said.
"I have an idea." Will said. "Layla, is your mom still up for hosting sleepovers?"
Layla smiled slowly. "I think so."
"Hang on," Will held up a finger and then went to his parents. After a few minutes of talking, he came back. "They said they could call all of our parents. They don't think we should be split up after everything that's happened tonight, either."
Looked like Warren would be spending the night with a bunch of sidekicks, his former arch enemy, now tolerated friend/enemy, and girlfriend.
He could think of worse ways.
Layla's mother had seemed delighted to have a house full of teenagers.
She seemed especially delighted to get to know Warren.
Layla's father, however, had made a not-so-subtle threat. Layla had cracked up. Warren had grumbled under his breath and made sure to be extra polite when he was in the room.
Waking up next to her in the morning, though, with her tucked safely underneath his arm, was so worth it.
His mother had loved Layla's parents, and he figured that could've gone worse. Even the Strongholds were civil, telling his mother how good a kid Warren was.
He didn't exactly want to conform to that label.
They bowed out of the barbeque the parents had planned early that night.
Warren finally had Layla all to himself, and he wasn't about to pass the opportunity up. They kissed their way from the driveway to the living room, and he was filled with so much longing he began to think the couch was just as good as the bed.
Her tongue rubbed against his, and she slid his shirt up and over his head. She sighed and traced every part of his chest, stomach, arms. He shuddered underneath her touch.
"I love you," he whispered raggedly. She had to know that before they went any farther.
It struck him suddenly that when he though of sex with Layla, he called it making love and not fucking.
"I love you too," she breathed back.
His fingers slid up under her shirt, teased around her belly button. She moaned and arched her back (God, he loved her noises), then kissed down his neck, across his collar bone.
His hand trailed down to squeeze her ass, then he hiked her leg over his hip. She brought her mouth back to his.
He picked her up and carried her upstairs to his room. Her shirt got lost somewhere, and then her jeans, and then hisjeans, and suddenly there was nothing but skin on skin, delicious touches and moans and friction and pleading and ecstasy and pain and declarations of love and ivy growing and tiny bursts of flame moving up and down their entwined bodies.
And the sparks Layla created were his whole life.
#warren/layla#warren x layla#warren peace#layla williams#phoenix#flower woman#sky high movie#sky high 2005#sky high
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While I could see how the ending of Touya going home to eat a meal with his family was expected, I always thought that was a touch too fantastical. Not because it wouldn't have been the perfect ending - it would have been a very fitting one, given the recurring motif of Todoroki meals - but because I felt it would've require an absolutely extreme restructuring of Hero Society - a complete change in attitude towards Villains, and, frankly, the destruction/reform of the current in-universe prison system. Which we saw none of in the 100+ chapters of the final arc post-Jaku.
Like. For Touya to be able to go home, means that the system is willing to change everything written here:
A detention facility constructed in the open waters about five kilometers from the mainland. Though nominally a prison, the facility effectively serves as a dumping ground for individuals who pose significant threats to public safety and security. Regardless of sentencing status, these individuals are incarcerated and heavily monitored. The prisoners have a wide range of quirks and are assigned to one of six cell blocks based on the danger their quirks represent and the severity of their cases. The more dangerous the individual, the deeper they're kept within the prison. Tartarus is the dark side of quirk society, and it is said that anyone imprisoned there will never again emerge alive.
That's how the story describes Tartarus, and absolutely no one in-story ever considers this bad (...except for the MLA's political party, who accuses it of human rights violations, but they're evil, so it canceled out to good/neutral again).
For Touya to go home, means that Tartarus is just not a thing, that he's not going to be in another similar prison straitjacketed 24/7 with guns pointed at him; he's not going to be locked in there because even if he can't use his fire anymore without hurting himself and that's good incentive to stop, he had/still has dangerous anti-hero views (Overhaul was armless and essentially 'quirkless', and thus of low threat to anyone, but he was still put into Tartarus for his 'dangerous ideology', as per the character book).
It would mean that Touya is receiving therapy in prison, so that when he steps outside, he's stepping out after having gone through a thorough checkup and made sure that he's not harboring harmful-to-self-and-others thoughts (see: Ending the Villain, whose first action when he was released from prison was to skip a meal to stalk Endeavor.) It would have to mean that the public will stop ostracizing people and be willing to give Villains second chances, at least enough to stomach the idea of Touya not receiving the death penalty and living in house arrest or something.
All of this is never hinted to happen.
It's the same for the idea of Toga joining UA, or Shigaraki becoming a hero, or even Spinner becoming an advocate that people listen to and take seriously. For that to happen, things would have to change. Someone - a hero, all the heroes, collectively - had to have declared and promised with all their hearts and might to make these changes, to be willing to go that far.
And these changes don't just apply to the League - gets applied to all Villains and all criminals and all people! If it was just the League who gets these benefits, it will be because of the high-level connections the League has to top-Heroes like All Might and Endeavor, and that would be audacious string-pulling, nepotism, and outright corruption of the highest degree. If you want to claim that Hero Society is doing better, you cannot have this either. Appropriate leniency and consideration of circumstances and rehabilitation and understanding and all that has to be shown equally to all Villains. This is what I mean when I say to save the League, you have to save all villains.
For the Villains to be saved and to be able to live happy socially-integrated lives meant that their society has been radically and irrevocably changed enough that they can and have a reason to participate - that that bright future truly included them - but it just didn't happen. it wasn't happening in 'we all became the greatest heroes' chapter 325, it wasn't happening in 'Tsukauchi grudging admitting they have to acknowledge villains are human' chapter 378, and it's probably not happening now.
#nalslastworkingbraincell#i did think that Touya would get takeout Soba with Shouto and the sibs during a prison visit#but that was already pretty optimistic thinking
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I'm just putting my unvarnished feelings here, I'm not saying they're right or wrong or atheism is problematic or whatever but:
i don't particularly care about the rise of people choosing atheism over religion so much as irreligiousness becoming such a de facto way of viewing things that religion becomes a foreign category to most people.
I think even from a secular POV, for all its problems, there is something beautiful about religion as an expression of human yearning for something meaningful, and something intertwined so deeply with stories, artx history, philosophy, ethics, just everything about the human experience.
people understanding what religion is and rejecting it makes sense to me. but I feel like society getting to a point where irreligiousness (or very nominal religion) is just taken for granted seems a bit sad in that it renders such a huge category of human experience just totally foreign and obsolete.
people who grow up not ever really understanding what religion is or the role it plays or the meaning it has for people seem like they're missing out on at least comprehending something that has been an important part of human experience. and also seems like it increasingly widens the gap between wealthy westerners and people from other parts of the world where faith means something. they become prone to just dismissing religion as a game people play or a superstition or people wanting something from space santa.
I think you could even say religion is fake and moving beyond it is necessary and still find it sad in the same way not believing in Santa anymore is a bit sad, or not having an imaginary friend anymore.
and I'm sure you can say this is just what christian hegemony has already done to other religions in making them unthinkable etc. which is fair. but I guess rather than just replacing existing religions, increasing irreligiousness - or rather, religious indifference, not even actually atheism - kind of just erodes the entire category. and I can't help but feel like that cuts people off from understanding not just the past but cultures and ways of thinking different to them.
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Rarepair Nominations are Now Open!
Alright everyone, it is time! I realize I'm posting this at what is likely an inopportune time, as it's the middle of the week and my posts aren't even showing up in tags yet, but that's okay! I just wanna go ahead and make this form available. I will leave this open until Sunday (May 5th) so get your choices in there.
Invader Zim Rarepair Nominations
Rules:
Do not nominate ZaDR (Zim/Dib), ZaGR (Zim/Gaz), ZaTR (Zim/Tak), ZaSR (Zim/Skoodge), DaTR (Dib/Tak), TaGR (Tak/Gaz), or RaPR (Red/Purple). These are all big ships in the fandom, whether we take into account past or present shipping trends, and so they are the ones I am disqualifying. Everything else, I will take.
What is considered a "rarepair" is totally at your discretion! It could be two characters who literally only showed up once, or it could be two major characters who nonetheless don't have near as many fanworks as one of the big ships I listed above. I will not be policing what ships are nominated. If it's not one of the above, I'll take it!
Only nominate pairings (two characters), no OT3s or more, please! Perhaps if this goes well we can do a special OT3 bracket later on.
When writing in a pairing, please actually write their names, for example Zim/Keef instead of just ZaKR. This is so I can know for sure exactly which pairing is getting nominated. If you just say ZaZR, I have no way of knowing if you mean Zim/Zim or Zim/Zita, as a random example. So just use the names, please.
You have to nominate at least one pairing, but you can send in up to five different pairs! One pairing per line.
Do not spam the form! I won't be requiring logins because I want people to have their anonymity, so I am requesting that you be reasonable, please. Only fill it out once, and if you happen to have more pairs you want to send, then I can't stop anyone from sending in a new form with those different pairings. But please don't use it as a way to duplicate ones you've already sent in. I intend to seed the bracket so I want the numbers to be accurate to what's actually being nominated.
No ships are off limits! If it's two Invader Zim characters who have appeared at some point in the show, movie, or comics, you can send it in! I understand this may mean some unpleasant or disturbing ships could be nominated and become part of the bracket. It comes with the territory. But Invader Zim is a dark show and the fandom has always embraced more twisted, grotesque themes. I will embrace it as well. So please do not send me requests that (insert badwrong pairing) be disqualified. If the presence of problematic ships in this bracket will bother you, please do not take part in the tournament.
You're more than welcome to start a good clean wholesome rarepair tournament of your own if you like :)
But yes, I think that's it! Go ahead and send in your nominations, and please share this far and wide. We can get wild but ultimately I want us to have fun here.
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From the homeless to a new global color line to immigrant “safe havens,” the harm will be absorbed by the unseen and the unheard.
While I’ve been at a mind-jolting workshop in Canberra about “progressive” foreign policy, my head has just been spinning the entire time from everything going on in the world. Countless political cross-currents happening at the speed of Twitter right now.
But the J.D. Vance thing stands out as singularly significant, in part because people can’t help but comment on it while appearing to be confused about what the Vance nomination actually means for everything from the defense budget to “great-power competition,” and from NATO to war in America.
This take, for example, from Murtaza Hussain—who is generally of quite sound mind—totally misreads Vance based purely on a selectively hopeful reading of Vance’s rhetoric.
I’ve made it a point to digest every Vance speech, quote, or piece of writing since 2017 (or at least as much of it as I could find). Not because I thought he’d be Veep.
Rather, initially, I was trying to understand right-wing #NeverTrumpers (he had once been one). But Vance also intrigued me because it was obvious from the beginning that he was a class subversive, cosplaying as an Appalachian working-class explainer while actually following a typical Ivy-League-to-finance-bro pipeline. He was exploiting, rather than representing, a particular rural, white working-class grievance—and that made his presentation distinct from typical defenders of ruling-class privilege.
Now, you don’t need me to tell you all the reasons why he’s a bad candidate or a danger or whatever. Plenty of people doing that right now.
What I can add is an explanation of:
How Vance’s ideas about violence are explicitly racialized (envisioning a Global Color Line),
Why a Trump-Vance presidency will never yield foreign-policy realism (because of neocon infiltration), and
How the political terrain we’re operating on has changed (Washington’s foreign policy imagination is becoming post-hegemonic in a particularly reactionary direction).
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I’ve seen people on Twitter talk about how Hazbin Hotel was snubbed since it wasn’t nominated for an Emmy and talking about how people who don’t like the show are happy about it and like.
Idk I can only speak for myself, but tbh I’m kinda sad that the show, from the beginning, just…wasn’t good. Not Emmy good, at the very least. (more below)
There’s this weird expectation that, if you are at all critical or dissatisfied with what the Hazbin show ended up being, that you’re a horrible person who is obsessed with seeing everyone who worked on the project fail, and have just hated the show and its creator since the beginning of time and like…
I did not want the show to be bad!! I was really hoping that I’d be wrong, that I’d be pleasantly surprised, that the show would be entertaining and well written and paced. But, for me, it just wasn’t.
I have tried to be very forthcoming about the things I liked and what I wished the show would have focused on more. I wanted to like the show!!! I would have LOVED the show if its writing and animation were on par with other adult animated shows.
However when it came out, it had a LOT of problems, and it seems really clear to me that the National Academy of Television Arts and Sciences picked up on them, just as I did.
It’s so odd to me that a lot of Hazbin “super-fans” think that if you’re critical of the show you must hate it, because the majority of people I’ve spoken to who are very critical of the series ARE fans of the series who felt disappointed by it when it actually came out.
Switching gears a bit—It’s genuinely kind of disheartening to see so many people prop the show up as if it was the best most perfect best show ever when, in reality, Hazbin is a perfectly serviceable and fun show, but is not as deep or as well-crafted as it claims to be, and as a lot of other adult animation that’s out right now.
Recently, I’ve seen this belief develop in some fandoms that what you love needs to be somehow validated or “proven” to be good by winning an award or receiving accolades.
And while I definitely understand the desire to see something you love be recognized for the artistry that’s put into it, the truth is that sometimes there are really really good pieces of art and media that don’t get the recognition they deserve, and there are really really bad pieces of art and media that are treated like holy grails.
Like I’m saying all of this as someone who’s favorite movie is fucking Tron: Legacy. I LOVE Tron Legacy. It’s so fun and I love the characters and environment. But it’s also bad!!! It’s a very convoluted plot, and characters don’t get a lot of development and it has the “born sexy yesterday” trope which I hate and it’s one of my favorite movies of all time!!! I love it!!
But it doesn’t have to be a perfect masterpiece for it to be a masterpiece to me personally. I can recognize that while I love it, it’s not particularly amazing by any means. It’s kind of a shit show. The story and writing and cinematography don’t deserve any big awards. But I love it and that’s all that matters!
I do not think that Hazbin Hotel deserves any awards for being an excellent television show, and I can also really see why the people who decide Emmy nominations did not nominate it.
But who cares what I think!! My favorite movie is Tron Legacy! And I completely unironically love the 1993 Super Mario Bros. Movie!!!
The point I’m trying to make is that, while yes, it can be disappointing when something you love isn’t recognized, but that shouldn’t take away the value the show has to you if you love it.
Hazbin Hotel can be a bad show, and it can still be your favorite show that you love more than anything. Tron Legacy can be a bad movie and I can still love it and think it’s peak cinema. It’s okay. It’s okay to like and love media that isn’t perfect. It’s okay to criticize the media you love.
#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critique#funhouse convo#media criticism#media critique#I’m not trying to be mean please don’t twist my words
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