#and putting me and her into the same box just cause we are women

[coldfanbou]

Sexual Education

I remember now why I don't do reverse gangbangs, lol. Well, Anyway, here we have the fic that we rolled last week. For the record, it was a classroom roleplay with Eunha, Chaeyoung, Chaeryeong, and Monday. The pictures don't relate to the fic. I just needed to post who was in the fic.

Length 3K

Chaeryeong, Chaeyoung, Monday, Eunha x M reader

You get into the classroom and look around. Having to wait for the others, you check the front desk, finding some toys still in their boxes. A small note from the company sits on top of them. "Thank you for choosing and allowing us to help you on your sexual journey. Here are some complimentary toys for you to use. After you're done today, please take them home with you."

Having nothing else to do, you take the toys out of their boxes and ensure the electronic ones work well. There are vibrators, clamps, paddles, and strap-ons, among many more toys. Each drawer has a varied amount. You close the drawer as you hear the door to the room slide open. The women you came with had just finished changing. Eunha, Chaeyoung, Monday, and Chaeryeong each wore the same uniform. It was an incredibly short red plaid skirt combined with a white button-up that had the torso cut off; a small red tie was the finishing touch.  "Hi, teacher!" Eunha and Chaeyoung eagerly say. Chaeryeong and Monday give you a small wave, obviously nervous about doing it in front of others. Standing in front of them, you're uncertain where to begin, you were hoping to get the role of a student, but in the end, you got the teacher. 

"Hello, everyone. Today we have an um…special…lesson." You turn around to face the chalkboard; you begin to write on the board, "Sexual Education." 

"I already know about that!" Chaeyoung shouts before you're able to finish writing out the word.

"Oh, do you?"

"Yep, I know a lot about it," Chaeyoung says, leaning over to show her small cleavage. 

"That’s good but don't interrupt me." You reply before you finish writing out the topic. 

"Or what?" Chaeyoung says just as you were going to speak.

You turn to Chaeyoung, "Or else, I'll have to punish you. Now, class sexual education is very-"

"I bet you haven't had sex," she says again. The others laugh at Chaeyoung's comment while you take a deep breath. Not wanting to deal with Chaeyoung doing this the entire time you take action.

"Chaeyoung, to the front." 

"Ooh, you're in trouble," Eunha says; Chaeryeong and Monday repeat her words. Chaeyoung stands and walks to the front of the class.

"Yes, teacher?" She asks with a pout.

"You'll be my example. Now, bend over the desk." While Chaeyoung bends over your desk, you open one of the drawers and grab the paddle you had seen earlier. Chaeyoung faces the chalkboard, her lack of panties made apparent to everyone.

"Teachers, such a- ahh!" She screams as you strike her bottom with the paddle. The girls are shocked and focus their attention on you. "That hurt! Hey!" Chaeyoung shouts. You sit on your desk and lift Chaeyoung's small body onto your lap before smacking her ass with the paddle again. "Stop!" She yells as you deliver a third hit. Her ass is becoming a bright red from your hard strikes. 

"Now, class, I'll start my lesson." You ignore Chaeyoung, putting your paddle on the desk and placing your hand on Chaeyoung's pussy. "What you all have is a vagina, pussy, cunt, slit; any of those names work. When stimulated and when you become aroused, it becomes wet." Chaeyoung tries to break free of your grip, causing you to smack her ass with the paddle again. You spread Chaeyoung lips for the others to see. "As you can see, Chaeyoung here is already wet, meaning she loves being treated this way. Don't you?"

"Fuck you; I don't- mhmm," Chaeyoung interrupts herself with a moan as you push your fingers inside her.  You push them as deep as possible before pulling them out and repeating the process. 

"This is called fingering, and it's something you can all do too." You look at the other women in the room as they watch you intently. You see Monday and Chaeryeong rubbing their thighs together while Eunha is already fingering herself. "Don't be afraid, Monday, Chaeryeong. No one is going to judge you. Eunha is already doing it." The younger women turn to see Eunha fingering herself and playing with her breasts. They look at each other, and Chaeryeong is the first to touch herself. Soft moans escape her as she closes her eyes. Monday follows suit doing the same thing. You get hard watching the three women play with themselves as they watch their friend be punished. "Pay attention, you two. I know it feels good, but we're still in class." The next thing you know, you feel Chaeyoung's walls tighten around your fingers. "Now, class Chaeyoung is about to have an orgasm, but that would be too soon, so we're going to stop." 

"Wait! No!" Chaeyoung screams, kicking her feet. You strike her ass again, telling her to stop.

"Shut up!" You move Chaeyoung off your lap and onto the floor. Unzipping your pants, you pull out your hardened cock. "This class is a penis, cock, dick; any of those names work. This is how a man feels pleasure. One thing a person can do with a partner is get a blowjob."  You pull on Chaeyoung's hair dragging her face into your crotch. "Charyoung has been so gracious as to give me one because she already knows about sex."

"But-." You stuff Chaeyoung's mouth with your cock forcing it into the back of her throat. 

"Look carefully, but also feel free to continue touching yourself." 

"Teacher, I'm feeling hot. Can I take off my uniform?" Eunha says while having her hand raised.

"Yes, of course. Please take off your clothing if you want to." Eunha stands from her desk and removes her revealing uniform. You get excited looking at her fantastic body, from her nice chest to her beautifully thick thighs. You can't help but thrust into Chaeyoung's mouth as you watch Eunha sit on her desk and finger herself. Her fingers plunged into her slit, coating her thighs in her juices. You get more turned on and pull on Chaeyoung's hair as you face fuck her. You don't notice as tears begin to well up in her eyes, and she slaps your thigh. Eventually, her slaps become noticeable, and you let her go. Chaeyoung flops to the ground as she catches her breath. 

Seeing your display of dominance over Chaeyoung, Monday raises her hand. She stares at your cock as she asks her question. "Teacher, can I give you a blowjob too?" Her question, though unexpected, was welcome.

"Of course, Monday. This is sexual education, and what better than hands-on? You might want to remove your uniform so you don't dirty it." Monday strips out of her uniform and uses her hands to block you from seeing her chest and cunt. "Monday, you don't have to hide yourself; just look at how Eunha is." The younger woman turns her head to see Eunha rubbing her fingers against her slit in full view of everyone. She gulps and slowly removes her hands.

"I don't know why you're so shy, Monday; you have a great body," Eunha says while staring at her. Monday blushes and quickly walks over to you, kneeling as she arrives. Hesitantly taking your cock in her hand, Monday slowly strokes it a few times before putting your cock in her mouth. Her soft lips surround your shaft as she slowly bobs her head. 

"Am I doing it right, teacher?" She mumbles, her words are muffled as she continues her blowjob. You pat her head and moan her name before answering her questions.

"You're doing great Monday, an outstanding job." You gently press the back of her skull, forcing her to take a little more. Feeling her tongue rub the underside of your cock, you let out a loud groan. "Fuck, Monday, you're so good at this. Have you done this before?" Monday shakes her head as she stares into your eyes. It only turns you on more as you watch her innocent face. "I'm going to cum. This is important, Monday; I need you to drink all my cum." You can't help yourself as you shove your cock into the back of her throat and pour cum directly into her stomach. Monday tries her best to drink it all but fails in the end. It fills her mouth and spills the corners onto her naked body. You pat her head, "That was good, Monday." You say through ragged breaths. You catch your breath before starting again. 

"We've already covered a lot in this class, but one more thing is penetration. Is there anyone that wants to go first?" 

"Like anyone would want to do that," Chaeyoung says as she stands up off the floor. 

"Thank you for volunteering, Chaeyoung." Turning to the other quickly, you say, "Watch carefully and enjoy yourselves." 

"I wasn't volunteering!" You force Chaeyoung to lie back on the desk. You strip off your clothing and quickly align yourself with her cunt. You ram your cock inside her. "Oh fuck!" She groans as you fill her up. You lift Chaeyoung's legs onto your shoulders and start thrusting. 

"This is what happens when you interrupt me, Chaeyoung."  Your thrusts are filled with strength and cause Chaeyoung's small breasts to move under her shirt. You tear it off her body, leaving Chaeyoung in just a skirt. She grimaces as you continue to pound her body. "Ladies, come here." When they don't immediately come, you turn your head to see Monday feeding your cum to Chaeryeong. Noticing you staring in their direction, Eunha approaches you and kisses your cheek.

"Teacher, I'm tired of using my fingers. I want to try this too." 

"You'll get your chance Eunha; for now, why don't you sit on Chaeyoung's face and let her eat you out." Eunha kisses you again before following your suggestion. She climbs onto the desk before planting herself firmly on Chaeyoung's face. Eunha's thick thighs trap Chaeyoung, forcing her to eat out the older woman. Chaeyoung's tongue dives deep into Eunha's cunt, making the older woman shudder. Seeing Eunha's body shiver like that arouses you; you thrust faster as a result. You pull Eunha into a kiss, and her tongue works quickly, exploring your mouth. You feel her moan as the youngest women pop in to start suckling on her breasts. 

"Teacher, I feel weird; I feel like I'm going to explode. I don't think I can hold it." 

"Hold it just a bit longer, Eunha." The sight before you excites you to no end. The pleasure that Eunha feels is immense, as every part of her is toyed with. Chaeryeong and Monday are biting at her small nubs while Chaeyoung flicks Eunha's clit with her tongue. The bliss that overcomes Eunha in the next second sends her over the edge as she cums on Chaeyoung's face. Her loud moans trigger your orgasm, and you begin filling Chaeyoung's womb with your seed. You feel Chaeyoung's walls milk your cock for as much cum as possible while you remain inside her. As you pull out, Eunha quickly rolls Chaeyoung off the desk and takes her position. 

"Please teach me." She says cutely.

"What about us?" Monday asks. Chaeryeong stays silent but looks at you with a questioning look.

You look through the drawer until you find a double-headed dildo. "Here, you can use this in the meantime. I'll get to you soon."  Monday giggles while holding the dildo, shaking it in her hand. 

"Come on, Chaeryeong, let's have some fun." Seeing that Monday has seemingly warmed up to the idea of having sex in public, you make a note that she may have a kink. 

"Teacher?" You hear Eunha calling. As you look down, you see her squeezing her breasts, gently pulling her nipple. You rub your cock against her lips before slipping it inside her cunt. The firm grip on her walls feels different from Chaeyoung's pussy. You thrust slowly, allowing yourself to hear Eunha's soft moans. "Teacher's so big." Once you're buried inside Eunha, you already feel like you're about to burst. You lean down, taking her right nipple in your mouth. Your tongue circles her small nub as you thrust into the older woman. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, and the heavy exertion has made her body glisten with sweat. 

Your hands wander around Eunha's slick body. Looking toward the sounds of loud moans, you find Monday taking advantage of Chaeryeong, pulling the older woman into her body, and pushing the dildo further inside. "Come on, Chaeryeong; I need more from you. Please, please!" She shouts. Monday twists her nipples as she draws out as much pleasure as possible. Feeling you get harder inside her, Eunha giggles. 

"You really like watching us play with each other, don't you, teacher?" You don't respond, instead impaling Eunha with your cock. A moan louder than you've ever heard comes from the small woman. It causes your cock to throb inside her. "Are you going to cum?" Eunha smiles, "cum inside me, cum inside your naughty student." You hold onto Eunha's hips as you thrust quickly; at your final thrust, you drive your cock deep into Eunha flooding her cunt with semen, causing it to pour out of her. 

Back with Chaeryeong and Monday, the younger of the two continued to fuck herself using the other. Chaeryeong looked exhausted as her body was being pulled onto the dildo. Monday looked like a completely different woman; it seemed to you that drinking your cum unlocked something within her. Monday looked over at you and, seeing you watching them, took her opportunity to have you next. While Monday approached you, Chaeryeong climbed onto her seat and rested. 

Leaving Eunha to rest on the table, you take a seat in the chair, patting your lap as a signal to Monday. "It’s my turn!" She shouts before straddling you. Monday caresses your face while staring into your eyes. "I want all of your cum inside me, all of it." She says. She grasps your semi-hardened cock, slapping it against her dripping-wet sex before sinking down on it. "This feels so much better than that dildo," she moans. She rises slowly before dropping back down on your cock. Her small cunt is stretched by your cock as it stirs her insides. After a few bounces, your cock is fully hardened inside of her, prompting her to pick up the pace. Monday bounces on your cock like an animal in heat, her tits swaying quickly, nearly hypnotizing you. Monday grips your shoulders to stabilize herself as her legs start to shake. "Fuck, you're so big, teacher. Your cock is so big." She moans, throwing her head back in pleasure. "I can't take it much longer." Monday bites her lip as her nails dig into your skin. "I'm cumming!" She shouts as she plants herself firmly on your cock. You unload inside of Monday, granting her wish and filling her with a massive load of cum. She slowly grinds against you after you've finished. Climbing off you, she falls to the floor, where she takes some of your cum from her cunt, tasting it before falling asleep. As you rest on your chair, Chaeryeong slowly stands from her seat. 

"Teacher, do you have any left for me?" She asks as she sits in your lap. 

"Why did you wait so long for your turn, Chaeryeong? I know you wanted to go a lot earlier."

"It's a little embarrassing to have everyone watch me." She looks toward the others who lay in pools of semen. "But now they're all too tired. Can you still get it up?"

"I think so," you reply. Chaeryeong kneels before you. Taking your cock in her hand, she slowly strokes your shaft, taking small licks at the head. It sends shivers down your spine as you feel her warm tongue begin to circle the tip of your cock. As you begin to harden in Chaeryeong's hand, she lets out a satisfied smile. 

"Do you like me using my tongue that much?" She asks. Once you're as hard as a rock, Chaeryeong climbs back onto your lap. Facing away from you, she waits expectantly for you to put it in. Pressing it against the entrance of her cunt Chaeryeong slowly lowers herself onto your cock. The slight resistance to entering makes it much more pleasurable as you slip past her puffy lips into the depths of her pussy. Chaeryeong's soft, breathy moans are overshadowed by the sound of your bodies colliding. Having gone through many orgasms already, you feel yourself getting on the verge of another rather quickly. Chaeryeong feels your cock throb within her and quickens her pace. "Hold on just a little longer. I'm nearly there." 

"I don't know how much longer I can do that. Let me help you, though." You say through quick grunts. Your hands reach up toward Chaeryeong's breasts, squeezing them roughly. At the same time, you kiss the back of her neck; it was always a sensitive area for her. 

"Mhmm, if you keep doing that, I'm going to cum soon." She groans, pressing her ass against your crotch. You hold her in place as you rapidly thrust. She screams that she's about to cum when you bury your cock inside her. Chaeryeong cums at the same time; her walls clamp down on your cock as she squirts onto the floor. Her body nearly falls forward, and you're forced to pull her back. You catch your breath, feeling Chaeryeong's breathing slow down as her body rests against yours. Minutes go by before a knock on the door gets your attention. 

"Your time is nearly coming to a close. Please ready your things, and don't worry about any mess. We'll clean it up." 

You get dressed and ready the others to leave, making sure to bring the used toys. In the showers, Eunha and Monday talked about what a great time they had, while Chaeyoung talked your ear off about being too rough. That said, if you had been softer on her, she would have complained too. Chaeryeong cleaned herself off in silence, trying to think of the next time something like this could be done.

[imonawholedifferentlevel]

𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐲 - 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏ/ɴ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴏᴜɢʜ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ɢʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ꜱʟɪ��ʜᴛ ʜᴜᴍᴏʀ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ 18+, ᴛᴏᴘ! ᴄᴀʀᴏʟ, ʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ, ʙᴀᴅɪꜱᴏɴ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: ᴄᴀʀᴏʟ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: lizzieolsenswhore (from wattpad)

ᴀ/ɴ: ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ɪ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ꜱᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ ʜᴜɴ!

"Murphy! Pack your things your moving to C-block!" Hellman shouted my eyes widened in shock and I turned and saw one of my best friends Daya looking back at me with the same expression.

"W- what for?!" I asked alarmed he just said nothing and stood at the gate with his arms crossed I sighed and got up from the table and walked towards me and Barbra's shared cell.

I felt Barbra's gaze on me as I started packing my things "and just where are you goin?" She asked putting down a small box of coke she was snorting.

"I'm leaving" I muttered and she quickly shot up a look of disbelief.

"Like hell you are" she snorted and stood up.

I mean me moving to C- block wouldn't have been so bad because to be honest I felt like Barbra was only using me because I used to be a drug seller my business was spreading through about ten states before I was finally caught.

I had feelings for the older women for a while bit she made it bluntly obvious that she was straight unlike her four eyed sister Carol.

See she was the reason why I was scared to move to C-block because I'f Barbra was bad Carol was extremely worse the true definition of a sociopath and has been trying to kill her older sister for the past 30 years.

And sense I was one of her right hands Carol knew exactly who I was.

I had only saw her about three times when I was working the janitor job and had to go into C-block with other inmates to clean but aside from her scary demeanor she was gorgeous.

"I can't do anything about it Barb" I stated packing the rest of my things she said nothing else and sighed.

I nervously looked down at my feet but gasped a little when I felt arms wrap around my small frame "stay safe l/n" she said in a firm but soft tone I smiled and hugged her back.

"I will" I said and exited the cell I heard some people say goodbye and I waved to them back before I heard the gates open and I was escorted out will hellman.

I felt eyes burning into me as I entered C-block I never liked being the center of attention and felt extremely uncomfortable.

"Alrighy Murphy your in Cell 1-03 good luck" he stated with a smirk before walking off.

"Well, well, well look who we have here!" I sighed when I heard that familiar Boston accent I turned and saw my older cousin Madison walking towards me with her girls trailing behind her.

Me and Madison never had the best relationship she had horrible anger issues and always tried to beat me up and play pranks on me everytime I visited just because she got bullied at school.

But I had always been stronger than her despite me being pretty small and it always ended with me beating her ass and her throwing another tantrum she was always a huge baby.

"If it isn't my cutie little cousin" she chuckled and her girls followed.

I rolled my eyes and placed my stuff down "Madison" I stated crossing my arms.

"That's Badison to you" she grunted with a sarcastic smile.

"Ok then don't call me your cousin cause it's embarrassing being related to you fartison" I said knowing how much that nickname hurt her back then heard one of her girls snicker silently but one look from Madison shut her up real quick.

I grabbed my stuff and walked forward unaware of Madison sticking her foot out to trip me I stumbled forward but quickly caught myself and ended up doing a front flip back onto my two legs.

Some people gasped and I fixed my clothes before giving my cousin a glare "5 years later and I still outsmart you with that move grow up Madison" I said and walked off.

I looked to my right and saw Carol looking at me with a sharp gaze but I caught an ounce of curiosity in it as well I quickly looked away and walked towards my designated cell.

When I got inside I saw that the bottom bunk was occupied so I put my stuff on the top one.

"Murphy huh?" I turned around and tensed up seeing Carol leaning against the door with a smirk.

"Yeah and not proud of it" I stated changing out of my beige clothes and into the dark blue uniform not even caring about the fact I'm being watched.

"So you must be the little toy who was always running behind my sister" she said walking closer to me and I backed up a little.

"Wouldn't say that more of a tough toy" I said grunting a little when my back met the wall she put her hands on either side of my head and leaned closer to my face to the point I could smell her candied breathe.

"Well now your in my block and the way I see it you have two choices join me and live or you don't so what's it gonna be princess?" she asked.

"Fine" I said and she smirked backing up from me and walking out of the the cell like nothing happened.

After that day I started working for Carol I felt pretty guilty doing it tho since I was loyal to Barb for so long and my feelings for her still hasn't faded.

But at the same time me and Carol started to get closer and I started to form feelings for her Madison started to get jealous since I was basically taking her place and it was quite amusing to say the least.

The longer I worked the Carol the more my feelings for her grew and aside from the slight flirting we do I didn't think she got the message or the idea that I had a crush on her.

"Hey Carol" I asked looking up from my magazine and she did the same.

"Yeah?" She asked.

"Have you ever been in love before?" I asked she raised an eyebrow before letting out a snicker.

"Hell no love is bullshit" I felt relived that she didn't like anyone else but upset that she thought that way about it.

"Bull-true" I said back and she gave me a suprised look before rolling her eyes.

"You've been around me too much" she muttered under her breathe and I chuckled.

"But seriously love isn't bullshit it's a wonderful thing to feel the best thing to feel" I said and she gave me a puzzled gaze.

"Why are you even talking about this I mean other than the fact that you had a little sexual crush on my crack head sister who mind you is straighter than a zipline" she said putting her magazine down.

"Ok one I don't like her any more I like someone else-"

"Oh do you now?" She asked.

I felt my face heat up a little and I nodded "as a matter of fact I do" I said.

"Well then who is it doll?"

I looked into her striking blue eyes that were waiting for an answer and I took a deep breathe.

'Now or never' I thought and I leaned forward cupping both of her cheeks and pressing my lips against hers.

I felt kinda scared when she didn't kiss back but it vanished when she wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me onto her lap.

I wrapped my hands in her hair making sure to not mess it up.

Within seconds she was ontop of me with a smug look.

"You just dug a deep whole for yourself sweet cake" she cooed darkly and yanked my prison pants down in one swipe I yelped silently but felt myself getting more turned on my by the roughness.

Carol started leading kisses down my body and spreading my legs exposing my wet area she growled lowly and pressed her knee up against my sensitive area.

I moaned softly when she started moving her knee in circles and tried moving my hips with her but she gripped my waist with an iron grip and slammed my hips onto the rough material.

"Don't fucking move" she sneered and removed her knee.

She leaned down and gave my thighs kisses and love bites I whimpered and took off my shirt and bra.

I started fondling my breasts giving my upper body some attention Carol saw what I was doing and stopped to lean back up and attach her lips to mine again.

I licked her upper lip asking for entrance and she opened her mouth allowing me to slip my tounge inside of her mouth.

She leaned her hand down and squeezed my ass roughly while using her other hand to rub me through my panties I moaned under my breathe and grinded my hips into her hand.

"Please Carol" I pleaded she pulled away and gave me a look that sent shivers down my spine.

She gripped my jaw and made me look into her eyes "beg tell me you want it" she said.

"Please please Carol make me yours i"ll do whatever you want just please" she growled and yanked my panties down.

"Whatever you want princess" she snarled.

She placed my legs on her shoulders and went down giving my clit a long lick I squealed at the sudden action but it slowly vanished when she started going down on me.

"Oh my god" I moaned gripped the railing of the bunk bed I felt her smirk against me and plunge her tounge deeper inside of me.

"Fuck!" I cried out she gripped my thighs tightly running her hands down my smooth skin.

After several blessed minutes I felt my stomach tightening as my moans got louder my climax getting closer.

Carol leaned back up and stuck two fingers into me moving them at a rough pace I cried out.

"You wanna cum princess?"

"Yes, yes!" I whined feeling my climax getting closer.

"Then cum" she whispered into my ear and curled her fingers hitting my g-spot my eyes rolled in the back of my head as my arousal covered her fingers.

She helped me ride out my high before slowly removing her fingers and I whined from the sudden loss.

"So who do you like again?" She asked wiping my juices off.

I gave her a look and she chuckled under her breathe and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

"You keep playin your cards right and I might just let you take Badison's place fully" she said and got up to grab a lollipop.

I smiled and tucked myself into the covers maybe I could show Carol how to love I'f I play my cards right.

[kandyzee]

Fiona gallagher and pretty privilege

I think fiona is a great example of how being an attractive white woman can really help shape the way people interpret or misinterpret people's actions, and I've never seen someone talk in depth about it before.

I think one of the main things that stand out to me regarding the way fiona looks is how she is so often boxed into the character type of "sad girl victim." What I mean by that is that people view her as this young woman corrupted by sadness. She's cursed by her environment, and everything she does is okay because of that. Fionas story is undeniably sad, but she isn't always the victim, and despite everything she's gone through, she can mess up. I don't think shameless allows for these kinda characters cause their faults are always portrayed so strongly. Typically, u see teen girls grouped in together, like cassie and effy from skins, Tracy from thirteen. Even a younger character like Debbie isn't as frequently put into this box. Debbie has a devastating story, too. They both have scenes crying and breaking down. Vees heartbreaking storylines of believing she was infertile or having to help her brother her whole childhood are never touched on. People don't see Vee as a 'sad girl victim.' And too me this is because, put simply, fionas pale skin and big puppy dog eyes look better next to lana del rey lyrics then the others do. Fionas sadness and struggle is romanced into something desirable. We see fiona be 'desired' sexually/romanticly many times throughout the show. I think there's something to be said about the way people's admiration for fionas physical body leads them to admire her mental state, even if it's inherently negative at times.

I'm not saying fiona is undeserving of sympathy or in any way trying to downplay her struggles just because she's white and more conventionally attractive. However, I do think it's these traits that make people disregard her wrongdoings where they wouldn't with other characters.

Again, using v and Debbie as examples, their parenting is scrutinised to a much higher degree than fionas, even though fiona is the one who makes the most mistakes. People will in the same breath crisis Debbie for leaving franny with Frank and defend fiona for leaving coke out for liam to find. Realistically, people should be firm on the belief that Debbie's action here isn't as bad. Franny has a fun day out with her grandad, and Liam almost dies. From what I've seen tho a large number of people don't have this opinion. Why does fiona get more grace ? Because she's more conventionally attractive than Debbie!! (Not saying Debbie isn't attractive) Fiona with her slim body, full lips, sharp jaw line are much easier to forgive than Debbie's rounder face, red hair and freckles. V gets called a 'bad mother' most when she is going through postpartum depression. She has an extremely valid reason to be distant with her children. Still, when fiona acts unkindly towards Debbie when she's pregnant, it's fi who gets more leeway. Both v and fiona are extremely attractive, so why does fiona get away with more ?? Because people sympathise more with the white women. Fionas pretty privilege is only intensified by the fact she has white privilege also.

I might make a part two on this cause I think I have more to say, but this is it for now. I had never really thought about this before a couple of weeks ago, so my opinion isn't as defined and solid as it normally is. Can u tell ??

[drizzledrawings]

I really like your coyote piece ... I feel the instinct to be defensive of it against assholes but I would rather like take a moment to appreciate it aside from and away from that for a moment... The artwork itself is beautiful, the framing and the pattern in the background and the shackles with the little snap in it.. but the text on it especially.

It resonates with me a lot. I don't know that it's exactly how I feel but really close to it. I'm also like feminine genderqueer (I usually go with woman cause it is close enough for me and I do like she/her pronouns a lot), and it's so real. Not really the same as what they think but close enough but being put in this box that says to obey. To heel.

I see where people might feel like it's misogynistic but I think that's an ill faith interpretation. It's not against women, it's about not feeling like women but other people perceiving you that way unless they have enough of a read or enough knowledge or are close enough to see that we're not that. I don't think comparing women to dogs is a bad metaphor bc there's nothing wrong with being a dog, it's like just overall the IDEA Of woman, what a woman is meant to be, has been shaped by patriarchy for so long that a parallel to the way humans have domesticated the wolf is not far fetched, just controversial. But in regards to a personal piece on personal gender identity it works really well. We have the same bones but what you see is not what you get.

I just wanted to let you know it was important to me and I feel that way too and I think it's a beautiful piece.

Your interpretation is spot on! I knew what I was doing when I used the dog metaphor, the domestication of wolves vs. How the patriarchy affects women is one of the things I was trying to comment on (while of course also talking about gender identity)

I’m glad you resonate with it! Genuinely thank you so much

[aidenlydia]

I have seen that you are very open about supporting trans people and that your pronouns are they/them. How were you able to understand that you were trans? (If you are.) I've honestly felt so confused lately and don't have anyone I can ask about this. I love your ftm ghost art. I think it is amazing. I just don't know what to do or how I'll ever be able to figure out myself. Totally not your job but was curious if you had advice.

Not sure how helpful this will be, because my trans experience is deeply interlinked with my Dissociative Identity Disorder and Autism, so I'm sorry if this is a bit confusing.

What is Dissociative Identity Disorder

Dissociative Identity Disorder - Terms and Definitions

Autism and Gender

The reason why I go by they/them is because we're literally multiple people. Our two Hosts Aiden and Lydia (aka the alters interacting most with the world outside of our own head) are a man and a woman. We spend all our time together, sharing a body and the control over it.

We used to go by he/she, but people would only view us as a girl because of our body, so we switched to they/them. It makes more sense and feels better to be acknowledged together instead of Aiden being left out all the damn time.

Now bear with me here.

Though Lydia is a cis women, she grew up never belonging anywhere because we're autistic, so she feels like an imposter and a fraud when trying to connect to her feminity. Most days we barely feel human at all because we've been othered all our life. But she still views herself as a woman - motherhood in particular is a big important part of her.

Aiden is a trans man, but he doesn't mind our feminine body and doesn't plan on getting surgery ever. Testosterone maybe, but even that isn't super important to him at the moment. To him knowing he's a man is enough, passing isn't a priority at all. And because all of our Littles are girls he's rather protective of their body - any kind of medical procedure would cause a lot of fear in them.

He realized he's trans because he preferred a male name for himself, short hair and male clothing. It happened very quickly because exploring gender has never been an issue for us, it's fun and simply felt comfortable.

We do have two Agender Alters, but they don't come out in our regular daily life. They don't feel like anything really, they're deeply connected to nature and just want to exist as genderless beings, so they prefer not taking control of our body. It feels peaceful not being put into a box or defined by gender expectations and whatever other bullshit the world comes up with.

In the past we used to have another trans male Host, but he was suffering deeply from gender dysphoria. He couldn't stand the sight of our body or existing in it and became very self destructive about it. Until one day he just stopped coming out and hasn't been back since.

Before I even realized I had DID, gender wasn't really a concept to me. Same with names, it just didn't make sense to me why someone couldn't just change their name if they didn't like the one their parents gave them for whatever reason. I think of people as people, not boys and girls. Sure there are physical differences, but the meanings/genderroles we attributed to them are completely made up.

Folks love nagging me about how I draw my Ghost, but the truth is he can walk around looking like a cis girl and still be a man, I truly dgaf. So what if he's smaller and more delicate looking next to that big bear of a captain, that doesn't make him any less of a man.

The best advice I can give is you don't need to label yourself if you don't want to. You can experiment and just see what feels good. Maybe you'll find a label or make a plan along the way, but don't feel pressured to.

Common things people do is try out a different name, change their pronouns, create and play as video game characters of the opposite gender/sex (or gender non-conforming in general), listen to trans playlists/musicians, shop clothes/stuff in the other section (including underwear or things like jewelry ect), read books or watch movies about different kinds of trans characters, watch video essays about trans topics, create OCs or sonas, look at trans art and watch/read about other people's trans journeys.

Of course there are "what's my gender identity" tests you can take too, idk how helpful those are but I guess they can give you a bit more insight and maybe make you ask questions that you haven't asked yourself before.

Lastly here's a list of gender identities and definitions that might be beneficial to have a look at, as well as my trans resource list I put together last month about what can be done to change your gender in various ways

[destinyc1020]

Sunday confession: Zendaya being blamed for the erasure of black women in media is wrong and unfair. I recently saw a tweet where someone watched Challengers and said she was miscast and Myha'la, an incredible actress on Industry, and it's like, why is it that, in the black community we have this scarcity mindset when it comes to success of one black actress? If one succeeds, it's impossible for others to do the same, if not the same, in their own way?

There can only be one great black actress, but other communities, they are allowed multiple?

Colorism is a real thing but that's not the reason there is erasure of unambiguous black women, it's those actresses not having a fanbase since they were teens and not being marketable. A great example in Naomi Campbell and Ayo Edebiri.

Let's focus on Naomi first.

She has dominated the fashion industry since the 80s and at one point was the highest paid model if her time, even more than her white counterparts and Tyra Banks, a lightskinned black woman who most ppl online would say she has more privilege than Naomi yet, Naomi was more successful. Colourism didn't limit her success, so that's where I get confused when ppl complain, ppl forget their history.

Ciceley Tyson, Lola Folana, Viola Davis, Kerry Washington, Robin Givens, Vivica A.Fox are black actresses who despite hardships, have not been put in a box and played complex characters and compare it to Z's filmography, the difference is loud. Z, as of recent, its allowed to be able to play complex characters, and yet ppl assume she's superior to them when they equate her visibility equivalent to better success is so backwards. The biggest thing that has helped Z is fashion cause it allowed her to create an avenue that wasn't tied down to her role, and fashion is universal in a way.

Ayo Edebiri is a great example of being a successful black actress. She's not even 30 and has achieved so much in the last few yrs than most actors do in a decade. Being a writer and director also helps, but we all saw her first as an actress. Yes she's dark skinned but she's also unbelievably talented and those ppl who complain don't take her success as a win because they have an image on how a black woman should be in hollywood and because she's not "glamourous", they dismiss her. How frustrating.

Jayme Lawson, Chloe and Halle Bailey, Lovie Simone, Carlacia Grant, Ryan Destiny, GeffriMaya, Vivian Oparah, Jodie Turner-Smith are just the few unambiguous black actresses who are young and killing it so I'm sorry I'm not seeing this scarcity.

If the argument was there aren't enough black led romcoms or sitcoms like Girlfriends or the black version of Sex and the City, I can understand because then it's an industry problem, not a ppl problem.

End of rant😭

Thanks Anon for your confession. 😊 I know this is a very touchy subject for some, so I'll try to handle it lightly.

First of all, I def agree with you....I don't think that Z herself should be blamed for what we see in Hollywood. To me, it's society, as well as the industry which should be blamed.

why is it that, in the black community we have this scarcity mindset when it comes to success of one black actress? If one succeeds, it's impossible for others to do the same, if not the same, in their own way?........There can only be one great black actress, but other communities, they are allowed multiple?

Well, a lot of times, there's this scarcity mindset in the Black community because Hollywood itself only allows one of us to be super successful at a time. It's not even that black actresses don't exist in this country, it's more so that we're (YOUNG Black actresses) not given the meaty roles (or media coverage) that would really help to catapult our careers to superstardom.

Zendaya has been smart in carving a small part for herself in this industry and even outside of the industry, which is a very strategic and wise move, because she knows that there aren't many roles for young actresses who look like her in this industry.

All of the other actresses that you mentioned like Kerry, Viola, etc ..... most weren't doing meaty film roles in their 20s. I have always said that hollywood doesn't have a problem with older black actresses, but when it comes to beautiful, younger black actresses, it's almost like they've tried to pretend like we don't even exist. And when I realized that eighty five percent of casting directors are middle-aged white, women that told me everything I needed to know lol 😂

Ayo Edebiri is a great example of being a successful black actress. She's not even 30 and has achieved so much in the last few yrs than most actors do in a decade. Being a writer and director also helps, but we all saw her first as an actress. Yes she's dark skinned but she's also unbelievably talented and those ppl who complain don't take her success as a win because they have an image on how a black woman should be in hollywood and because she's not "glamourous", they dismiss her. How frustrating.

Ayo is a good example...a bit of a wild card.... She's unambiguously BLACK. She's EXTREMELY talented, funny, successful, and seems sweet. I love her! 🥰

But she's also non-threatening. (Read: Lacks sex appeal). Just being honest! 🤷🏾‍♀️

When is the last time you've seen a fully black, young, attractive actress in a mainstream Blockbuster film? I'll wait..... 👀

All of the other younger black actresses you mentioned may be successful in their own right, but can you really say that any of them are even near Zendaya's level? Not even CLOSE.

Granted, not many actresses (even white) are.

I don't think people should be blaming Zendaya for that though. She's pretty famous however, so that's why her name keeps getting brought up. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Personally? I blame the system/society.

[taki118]

Yakuza Fiance ep 6 Manga Comparison

We are halfway through the anime folks. As always under the cut I have everything the anime missed out on from the manga. The scans are fantranslated cause I'm lazy.

First thing the convo between Tsubaki and Yoshino is framed in the manga as a flashback.

The convo is mostly the same but once more details are missed such as Yoshino determining that Kirishima seeing her then was 6 years ago.

We also loose out on this cute image

Now they then cut to the school where the manga picks up so I'm not sure why they removed the stare thing (I know the anime loves its dramatic stares) maybe for time?

Anyway the convo at school is much the same but if you thought that little stop Yoshino gave during her lecture was weird well the manga has an explaination

Like I don't get why the anime didn't put a text box or something they've done it before, its just kinda odd. (I dunno I honestly forgot about this during my first watch and was like "That was weird" I didn't get the reason for Yoshinos shock maybe thats just me though)

Ok so the scene is again mostly the same but the visuals when Yoshino realizes she's Kirishimas first friend is such a down grade in the anime. She just stands there and the word friend repeats in the background meanwhile the manga gives us this

Like we get this cute little slugger Yoshino, which I gotta assume is a reference to something, then we get a little montage of all the shit she's gone through its just very underwhelming by comparison.

So ok the Nao stuff first of all I wanna say the lighting is like off like its so bright the manga gives the impression of a more softer lit place so it feels more like a high class bar. Its not really a difference but it annoyed me and I am writing this haha.

The convo is much the same again with some small stuff cut, I'd say Naos internal thoughts are much meaner in the manga. They did change placement again though. When the other women bring up Kirishima in the manga Nao goes straight into flashback mode

It gives the impression that she is lost in thought and can't help thinking about him even though she's such a calculated person, this info gets put into the anime but it doesn't offer the same weight but I'll compare once there cause they made.....choices. But also it doesn't feel as abrupt when Kirishima shows up in the manga you get the impression Nao has been sitting silently for a bit. Not the "hey we were literally just talking about you" vibe the anime has.

So they put the flashbacks in when Nao is in the bathroom scene and they are framed a bit differently from the panel above (the sex thing is there just on another page so i didn't add it) So like instead of a scene in a bar or club where you assume they mightve talked about him before she approaches we get this

Which is like ummmm I don't actually know if the anime is trying to make a point or not, about the age difference or whatever

So like Nao panics more in the manga (and I really wanna make a post on this at some point so I won't get too in the weeds but) and we learn just how long it's been since she saw Kirishima (we do get him saying it was 3 years in the anime like the manga but honestly ya'll missed out on her panicked thoughts)

So it was three years ago Kirishima is 18 now meaning he was was 14-15 when they met which is why the scene in the anime is interesting. I think they thought rather than having nao say the time frame they thought to visually imply it by having her see him in school uniform which is a choice particularly with the girl she's with. Like we have a college freshman (probably she might be older) openly being like "wow arent those highschool freshmen so hot?" I dunno it's kinda funny.

But yeah anyway the manga gives us more detail into her thoughts and how she thinks about it (also did anyone else think the close up on the kiss was weird and it lingered too much?)

Anyway we get another loss of thoughts

Like nao is constantly thinking like this not sure how she'll come across in the anime honestly.

Anyway again convo is much the same only shortened, with Kirishima directly saying she acted more like a foreigner back then. But also when he leaves she doesn't look at the card in the manga, nor does Ozu show up to give an ominous stare (this adaptation and adding stares I swear to god)

Ok so this is something I mentioned in ep 4 but they took out how Yoshino has been planning a summer trip to Osaka for a while

Like this they also took out which leads into her cute hand binoculars (glad they kept it) and convo on the phone with Kirishima. Its another set up thing they dropped so it feels a little more random and convenient in the anime.

So the start of the trip is overall the same but again we loose some character beats

In the manga it feels like she pulls him before he gets shoved and we get explanation why he's never really been to Osaka and a cute culture clash moment.

Ok so this is weird we get the face but we don't get the context for it. Like this head thing felt so off to me when I first watched again maybe its just me.

That being Yoshino trying to play tour guide for Kisishima all while doing tasks.

We also loose out on the explanation as to why she's buying so much food and Yoshino getting a little nostalgic. These scenes also help to show that the roles have shifted with Yoshino being the knowledgeable one Kirishima has to relay on in a new city. We can kinda get the vibe in the anime but you really feel it in the manga.

I will say the scene at the Takoyaki store is pretty good in the anime giving some actually fun visuals and expressions.

So the scene with Nao and her coworker is longer in the manga the woman keeps complaining about various things and Nao is working overtime with keeping her composure

It actually showcases a lot of her personality with all the mental back talk she does so its a shame it was cut. Like I get it who wants to listen to someone humble bragging like this but it takes away from her character.

We also loose more of Naos thought process as she considers seeing Kirishima again due to this conversation.

Again I will likely do a whole thing just on Nao at some point but the anime skips over all of this and gets right to Ozu talk.

But once the get there ugh we once more loose some set up stuff

Again not having Nao think about Kirishima makes her contacting him seem a little less calculating and we loose the hint that Ozu was trying to contact Nao privately. The rest of the convo goes the same.

So we do loose some cute domestic stuff with Yoshinos arrival in the anime

Showing how she is with the gang members its not a lot but still.

So the room scene is pretty one to one which i am very grateful for its one of my favs. We do miss a small explaination about the keychain though.

No spoilers for anime onlys but be the fact that it feels heavy is important later. I will say the touch of doing a close up on Kirishimas hands as he holds it like he doesn't want to let go was really good.

So the walk is honestly well done in animation and I'm grateful to how they visually show Yoshino struggling to keep pace with the two but we do loose a Yoshino thought thats important.

Its kinda important for the arc as Yoshino tries to better understand Kirishima.

The store scene is very accurate and I love they kept the Shoma trying to sneak to drinks thing but we lost this dumb Shoma face

We then loose an inbetween scene of Nao meeting up with Kirishima before the hotel. It again serves to establish Nao as a character and her thinking.

Honestly this would have been better to end the episode on. Instead we get a very rushed Hotel scene.

And I do mean rushed, the tattoo talk is longer and helps to set a timeline for Kirishima.

Like im having such trouble picking things cause this scene is so much longer

They go into more detail about WHERE exactly they are going tomorrow which is set up. Then before he leaves to shower we get this back and forth where he explains she seems more like herself now.

Which then leads into the seeing the phone screen. It all gives the impression of two people who have history. But the anime is so rushed you can barely tell. I am really hoping for some brevity next ep cause it will have some scenes I really like.

[strideofpride]

Okay I can't stop thinking about the Barbie ending. Cause like as absolutely hilarious it was (the whole theater howled) it also is the perfect button for the theme of the movie, coming out of girlhood into womanhood. (this is going to be a very cis reading because, well, Greta is cis and was clearly drawing on her own cis experiences - terfs do not interact)

The first thing Barbie experiences in the real world is being catcalled and objectified, which reminds me a lot of a passage from Tina Fey's book. She talks about how she went to this women's conference when she was working on Mean Girls and they were asked how they knew they were becoming a woman. And pretty much every single one said it was when some dude said something gross to them out of a passing car. It's such a universal experience to get catcalled at 13-14-15 year's old, when your body is only just developing. And that's what Barbie also experiences first.

Then there's the scene where the Mattel men (and they're all men of course) try to put her back in the box. The shot of her hands being strapped down was so unsettling to me and I think that was Greta's intention. Maybe this is a huge reach but it almost felt like it was a metaphor for sexual assault. And I don't think it's a universal experience to be sexual assaulted, especially as a teenager, but I do think it's unfortunately still pretty common.

Then she gets back to Barbieland and has to confront the patriarchy head on, has to learn how to deal in this world catered towards men, has to learn how to develop a sense of self even though she's become depressed by the state of things. Depressed by the fact that she's changing and she doesn't know how to stop it. The "I'm not pretty anymore" moment is played for laughs cause the narrator rightfully calls out that this is an insane line to come out of Margot Robbie's mouth. But I think it speaks to going through puberty, to not feeling like you're at home in your own body anymore (hell this is the same scene where we see the Growing Up Skipper doll, a doll who's breasts can grow and shrink at her human's will - talk about body horror).

And because this is a movie centered on the hero's journey, Barbie and friends are able to get the patriarchy out of Barbieland and work towards a more equal future, but the real next step in Barbie's individual journey is seeing her creator (and this is where the gender swapped Adam/Eve myth of creation stuff really comes into full force but that's a whole other post altogether) who in a lot of ways is just Barbie's mother ("mothers stand still so daughters can look back and see how far they come" !!!!!). It's her mother figure that gets Barbie through that transition from girlhood into womanhood, who assures her that while things might not be perfect, it's still worth experiencing. (And of course there's the theme of mortality as well, that what makes the human experience special is that it's not infinite)

So that final button of Barbie going to the gynecologist for the first time is actually just the completion of her arc. I saw some people being like "I thought she was going to a job interview!" and I think that was absolutely an intentional misdirect, but I don't think her going to a job interview would've hit as hard. (For a lot of reasons, but the main one is it's a very capitalistic idea that you become an adult when you start to generate your own wealth) It had to be her going to the gynecologist, something only adults usually experience, not children. She's no longer a girl anymore, she is a woman.

[zahri-melitor]

Batman Eternal

I think for a weekly, event comic that was promising to deliver the Bat Family, it underperformed. Some people had a good event, some people had a mediocre event and were underused, and there were a few absolute shockers.

The Good:

In terms of a 'push Bruce to the limit' event, it was interesting in that this one pushed Batman, the Bat Family AND Bruce, separately, to their limits. I'm used to events being 'pick two of the three'. That said, it still underestimated the effectiveness of its supporting cast.

Bruce had a solid event, in that it was focused on him and broke him down to build him back up by running him ragged and keeping him guessing on 'who caused this'. Honestly I don't have a lot to say about Bruce's plot, sorry. It was an okay mystery running through various rogues? I think making Cluemaster Who Dunnit was not the right choice (Arthur should always be a bit pathetic), but I can see why they picked him in the story that's returning Steph and after making Riddler the big bad for Zero Year.

Selina actually had a reasonable event. She got her entire backstory rewritten and ended up controlling crime in Gotham at the end of it, but eh, the former happened to a lot of people during n52 and the latter is something Selina ends up doing every now and then. Her plotline involved organised crime and Carmine Falcone, so it was even something associated with her long term story arcs.

Jim Gordon: look, once we get past the incredible miscarriage of justice that was Jim being arrested and convicted for manslaughter (please, please, explain to me how Jim shooting the signal box input was what caused the trains to crash, rather than the railway routing that meant there was timetabling and no fallback override for two trains SHARING TRACK while running in opposite directions), it was essentially just an excuse to put Jim in Blackgate and start up the plots there. Which you know, went pretty well. Jim got to be the strong man, show off his personality, and presumably this all sets up the Superheavy plotline (sigh).

Julia Pennyworth. Look, I don't hate the idea of Julia, so much as am confused by the very tight timeline constraints required for her existence (post about this coming), and I resent that DC let the team basically invent a new Oracle without being allowed to acknowledge that Oracle is Barbara Gordon. It's like it's an important role in Gotham! Anyway. In terms of what Julia brought to the page, I did appreciate that the writing team seemed committed to increasing the number of women characters populating Gotham, I am happy to have someone not Alfred running comms for the Bats, and I can see several ways she'd be an interesting character to have around, long term, for storytelling. I could grow to like her. But man. I had a really hard time swallowing her existence while Barbara's in the same event having her character destroyed.

Harper Row is so clearly Scott Snyder's pet. Honestly, I really enjoyed her design and the general arc of her story; adding an electrical engineer to the group is actually a relatively unoccupied niche and gives her points of differentiation, but by handing her such a major part of the plot while other, fan favourite characters were appearing and getting not much at all was setting her up to fail in the eyes of the audience.

Steph ranks up in the 'had a good event' category. She essentially reran her origin story combined with aspects of her War Games plot (before everyone yells at me, I particularly noted the correlation with the part of the story where Selina hid her with Holly coming through here with Steph hiding from Arthur and her getting dumped at the Rows for protection. Go actually read War Games). I liked the concept of the Spoiler blog being what she used as her name inspiration here. I again wouldn't have minded if she had actually interacted more with other Bat characters (everyone got very siloed here) but you know what? The story brought her back and set her back up in her default sort of background state. Seriously, they picked from Steph's biggest stories here (her origin, War Games, and actually parts were in conversation with War Crimes, which is a phrase I never thought I would say), and that was a reasonable decision imo.

The Mediocre:

Luke Fox got an interesting plotline with Jim Corrigan and the Spectre. Unfortunately it rarely interacted with the rest of the story (apart from leading to Arkham blowing up). This could have been a separate mini.

Tim got to appear in actual Bat titles, doing actual Bat things, and while being abrasive I could squint at him and see his original characterisation. Tragically despite this he basically didn't get to interact with existing characters he knew for most of the plot. Got handed the idiot ball on occasion to show off Harper. I wish he'd had more opportunities to spend time with characters I know and enjoy him with.

Kate Kane was there, for this event. She got to spend some time with Barbara and Jason. She also really didn't do much of anything. It felt like an obligatory 'you currently have a solo' appearance.

Jason Bard: look this is where I'm conflicted. If this was simply Random Cop #34, I'd have probably bumped it up to good but unrealistic (in terms of the speed run to Commissioner), but as a Jason Bard story? About all they kept or knew of Jason was that he's a cop, he was mentored by Jim Gordon, and that he Has A Limp. I am still outraged they made Babs give him the limp, I think making him a minor antagonist of this was a waste of bringing back Jason Bard, and the endpoint left him in a position where he's moderately unusable by other writers (there was a slight set up for 'transition him over to a detective agency' but there was no resolution on why anyone in Gotham either among the GCPD or the Bats would trust him after this).

The Bad:

Hush. No, not so much in his story (it was boring, it was Tommy being Tommy, yawn), but in the fact for no apparent reason Tommy is running around with his head bandaged. WHY? No reason was given. Using the bandages as his 'costume' is actually painfully irritating, because he wore the bandages during the original Hush as he was healing from facial reconstruction surgery. Here, he was imported into New 52, with his face wrapped in bandages, and no reason given. He wasn't trying to become Bruce and steal his identity. He was just...in bandages. Because that's how he looked in Hush and the fanboys think of him, despite the fact he basically never appeared in bandages again AFTER the initial Hush storyline. I'm infuriated in the pointless iconography that misses the original intent that this is.

Barbara had a terrible event. Even if I excuse everything as she was still grieving over Dick's 'death' and Jim being in jail, and the fact she was undergoing personality surgery in her own title (Batgirl #35 sigggghh), a complete random 'ship Barbara and Jason together' plotline came out of nowhere premised on the fact Barbara was missing Dick? Or something? And their age gap in n52 nonsense is only a couple of years, rather than Babs being ABOUT TEN YEARS OLDER and having babysat Jason. Ugh.

Speaking of: Jason Todd did somewhat better than some of the others in that he got to actually hang out with Barbara and Kate for a storyline, and honestly pairing him up with Kate is a route DC should look at more often in terms of character mediation, but lost 1000 points for the Jason/Barbara stuff. Also had a terrible costume (but what's new there).

Crystal Brown I am so sorry. Not only did you get yet another completely new look and personality, you lost all the few characterisation elements we had for you, you collaborated with your ex-husband, and you betrayed Steph at one point. You should be awarded damages for pain and suffering.

Lincoln March/Owlman: you were in this event SOLELY to confuse Steph and delay her cooperation with everyone else. I resent your entire existence in this timeline and it irritates me that Scott Snyder set up an entire previous event essentially to introduce you to the main universe and then waited going 'did you get it?' You are not Thomas Wayne Jnr sorry.

[ladyhindsight]

The second part of the book begins, and I am already done with the whole quote that starts the part:

I love you as one loves certain dark things — Pablo Neruda, “Sonnet XVII”

Because it isn't even a whole quote, not even a one I can find in this form, and it's not even the whole verse. This erases the whole meaning to fit into this loving certain dark things narrative, especially considering the actual following verse:

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I also don't know what translation Clare got that from because all I can find is the latter one. ANyway. We continue with Maia and Jordan, and Jordan can go fuck himself:

→ To begin with this, fucking hell. This refers to the ending scene of chapter 4 where Maia has a flashback to trauma Jordan caused.

He pulled her closer. He was shaking. She felt the heat of his strong body against hers as his hands slid down her back. “Maia,” he whispered. He started to lift the hem of her sweater, his fingers gripping the small of her back. His lips moved against hers. “I love you. I never stopped loving you.” You’re mine. You’ll always be mine. Her heart hammering, she jerked away from him, pulling her sweater down. “Jordan — stop.” He looked at her, his expression dazed and worried. “I’m sorry. Was that not any good? I haven’t kissed anyone but you, not since…” He trailed off. She shook her head. “No, it’s just — I can’t.” “All right,” he said. He looked very vulnerable, sitting there, dismay written all over his face. “We don’t have to do anything — ” She groped for words. “It’s just too much.”

And this fucking idiot thinks it's because he might be a bad kisser. Maia has nothing to apologize for, and I'm already sick of this chapter trying to flip this dynamic over to where Maia owns Jordan a goddamn thing.

→ The whole "I don't want to be friends" and Maia acting shocked is stupid because Jordan has come onto Maia plenty of times already that she should know what he actually means. This is all idiotic.

Then die.

This could've been said also by Jace, Simon, or Magnus because all the jokes are tonally and in terms of content always the same. Ha ha, two straight boys kissing. Funny.

We skip to Clary exploring the place Jace has brought her to and rummaging through a wardrobe.

Morgenstern men love heteronormative clothing for women who wear gear meaning also pants.

→ A scene that never happened but would've been a great callback to the previous book if it was written out.

→ Hopefully Clary would remember things that happened just a while back with a visual reminder. Also → "It had been a clear day in early October.."

The last time the box was mentioned was in City of Bones where it is told that the box held "with the medals were one or two photos, a wedding ring, and a single lock of blond hair. Sometimes Jocelyn took the box out and opened it and held the lock of hair very gently in her hands before putting it back and carefully locking the box up again."

Which makes me question whether Clary then knew what the contents of the box actually were since there are no metals or a wedding ring. Which is fine, but what is not fine is that the box goes unmentioned for forever and once it makes an appearance, Clary is suddenly in the know of the contents and the contents themselves differ drastically from what was previously told. Continuity where?

Here Isabelle is an outlet of Clare's bias. Different characters of course can have different opinions and preferences, but because other characters like Lucie also keep talking how brown (hair color) is ordinary and boring and how the writing keeps coming up with ridiculous similes and metaphors for every other eye color/hair color than brown or dark, it's obvious. Even more so when a little later down here Isabelle thinks blue eyes are more interesting than black.

Meaning faerie men possibly far older than her? Shadowhunters who? Who are these Isabelle's sexy ex-dates when none is ever mentioned or makes an appearance and the premise is that the Lightwood kids have grown up pretty secluded in the New York Institute because of their parents' exile?

So Isabelle thinks she would be more interesting if she had blue eyes instead of black ones. Because appearance is what makes to interesting, not your character. Pretty on point for the narrative.

Just call her Jocelyn. You just did.

→ ...and saw Jocelyn looking at her. Jocelyn opened her mouth...

Or if you must, this order makes more sense:

→ ...and saw Clary's mother looking at her. Jocelyn opened her mouth...

→ No need for any of these. This is Isabelle's PoV, we know this is what she can observe.

→ Isabelle rolled her eyes at him and turned around/away etc. Then paragraph division and the description may commence.

Cut back to the Boredom Crew.

Thank you for the clarification. Otherwise I might have confused him to some other shared father??

Jace has not shared that look with anyone ever because the only people with shared secrets and in the know have always been Jace and Clary because the narrative is jealous of Jace having that kind of relationship or bond with anyone else.

Also Clary has not known Jace long enough to say "in a very long time."

→ Is he squinting?

→ No need for this, it's her PoV. Stop overexplaining.

→ Or: "His look was calculating: he was deciding what he was going to allow Jace to do, how much leash to give his "brother."

[silvfyre-writings]

Parenting is Stressful (BSD Fanfic)

Hello. Again. I return with another Ranpo and Fukuzawa found family fic because I really felt like writing another one. I honestly just really enjoy the dynamic between the two of them and well, we need some soft family stuff after the stress season 4 and 106.5 put us through!

This one is just as long as the last one, and in the same kind of format, so I hope you all enjoy.

It's 12am right now and I've been righting since 5pm to finish this so Imma sleep while you all read, so feel free to leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed the fic!

“Ah, Fukuzawa-san! It’s been a while since we’ve seen you here, how have you and young Ranpo been?” Fukuzawa paused from where he’d just been about to exchange goods with the very tired looking barista behind the counter and found himself meeting the eyes of the mothers he’d managed to befriend after he and Ranpo had moved into the neighbourhood. The group of three women had come to Fukuzawa’s aid more than once in the time since he’d met them, offering sound advice that sometimes worked, and sometimes didn’t.

“Sir?” The barista sighed, reaching out for the money Fukuzawa had just been about to hand them. “As much as I’d love to just give you these, I cannot.”

“My apologies.” Fukuzawa quickly handed the money over as he spoke, wishing the barista a pleasant day before he made his way over to the group of mothers, the goods he’d purchased secured in his arms. “It has indeed been a while. Ranpo and I are doing just fine.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear.” The oldest of the group—Kimiko—said with a smile. A mother of seven, the elderly woman had a lot of advice to give; advice that Fukuzawa was more than happy to listen to as he navigated his own, unique journey of parenting. “I hope that boy of yours hasn’t been giving you too much trouble, lately. He’s a teenager, yes?”

“Yes, he is, but he’s been good.” Fukuzawa said with a nod.

“Just you wait, Fukuzawa-san,” Another mother—Saori—shook her head in exasperation, “teenagers always find a way to make you wish you’d left them in a cardboard box on the side of the road. My own daughter is currently going through a rebellious phase herself, and it’s absolutely dreadful.”

“Oh dear, what has your daughter done this time?” Akiyo, the youngest of the group, gave her companion a sympathetic look, more than ready to listen to whatever tangent Saori was about to embark on.

And this was where Fukuzawa made his escape, before he got dragged into a conversation he did not want to be a part of. “I apologize, but I must be getting home. Ranpo is waiting for me to return. Next time we meet, I’d be more than happy to have some tea with you all.”

“Oh yes, of course, sorry for holding you up, Fukuzawa-san. Don’t be a stranger. See you another day.” Saori smiled and the three women waved as Fukuzawa quickly left the café behind, letting out a sigh as the door shut behind him. He felt a little bad for leaving as abruptly as he had, but despite the tentative friendship he’d formed with the group, he found it hard to listen to the ways they went about handling their own children. Fukuzawa didn’t know if it was because he himself had skipped all the younger years of parenthood, diving straight into the teenage years the three women seemed to despise, or if it was because the relationship he had with Ranpo was different to the usual parent-child one, or if it was because Ranpo was… well, Ranpo, but he just couldn’t agree with some of the things they said and did.

But despite that, they always managed to come through when he truly needed the help.

A crisp breeze blew through the street as Fukuzawa began to walk home, bringing with it a biting chill that was a sure sign that winter was beginning to settle in. Already, the nights were cold enough for Fukuzawa to have the heater on, and the days were starting to follow suit. The wind grew stronger for just a second, causing Fukuzawa to shiver from the chill of it. He’d have to start wearing warmer clothing soon if it got any colder… and somehow convince Ranpo that he too, would need to start layering up in order to stave off the winter winds. The last thing Fukuzawa wanted was to have to deal with Ranpo getting sick again; that one time where the boy had ended up in the hospital for a week had been more than enough stress.

But despite the chill in the air, the day was rather pleasant, enough so that Fukuzawa found himself desiring to take a stroll later in the day when the sun started to set. The area they lived in was always so nice when the sun started to descend, and even prettier when the moon came out from hiding. It would also give him a chance to be alone and take some time for himself, something he didn’t get much of these days.

Don’t get him wrong, he had grown to love Ranpo over the past couple of years, and the quirks that came with the boy, but Fukuzawa had been alone for a long time before meeting Ranpo, and was used to his own company; yet Ranpo was as clingy as he was smart, and had issues with abandonment as big as the Tokyo Tower. Of course, Fukuzawa had been working on those issues with Ranpo, making sure to tell the boy how long he’d roughly be gone for and where he’d be going—even though Ranpo’s lack of directional sense meant he wouldn’t even know how to get to wherever Fukuzawa was—and always made sure that his phone was charged and off silent. He’d also learnt that it was best to be direct with Ranpo, straight up telling the kid when he needed some space to himself, and that no, it wasn’t because of Ranpo—even though it sometimes was—and that he just enjoyed his own company at times.

Ranpo always looked sullen whenever Fukuzawa left the house without him, but at least he wasn’t trying to keep him in the house anymore.

Fukuzawa turned down the street that his and Ranpo’s home was situated on and shivered once more as the wind grew stronger with its gusts, picking up the pace so that he could get back inside into the warmth of the apartment sooner rather than later. As he approached the door, Fukuzawa found himself coming to a halt as a loud crash came from inside.

He sighed.

Of course he couldn’t leave the house for an hour without Ranpo getting up to some kind of mischief. Just so long as he hasn’t set fire to the kitchen, I don’t care. Fukuzawa thought, preparing himself for what lay beyond the door for him.

“I’m home.” He called out into the suddenly silent home, frowning when he didn’t hear footsteps coming to greet him like they usually did. “Ranpo?”

Remembering the crash he’d heard, Fukuzawa felt his concern begin to rise, and he quickly toed off his sandals and placed the bags of baked goods on the kitchen counter. Both the living room and kitchen were devoid of any signs of Ranpo, although there were signs of life; papers spread across the kitchen table haphazardly, some even finding a place to live on the floor, and the remains of Ranpo’s snacks had been left on the kotatsu in the living room. Fukuzawa’s eye twitched as he distinctly remembered telling Ranpo to clean up the mess before he’d left. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him to find his request ignored, as was the norm these days. He’d just remind him to do so once he actually found the boy.

“Ranpo?” Fukuzawa called again, finally hearing some kind of response as a noise came from the direction of Ranpo’s bedroom. It wasn’t a greeting, but rather, some rather aggressive cursing. The kind that usually came after something had gone wrong that one was desperately trying to fix before being discovered. Fukuzawa sighed and made his way towards Ranpo’s room, knocking on the closed door. “You have five seconds before I open the door, kid.”

“Please don’t come in.” Came Ranpo’s voice through the wood. It sounded a little frantic, and Fukuzawa heard a pained yelp and another crash as Ranpo undoubtedly tripped over something he’d left on his bedroom floor, which was then followed by a thud as something heavy hit the floor.

Something heavy that sounded like furniture.

Fukuzawa’s heart skipped a beat. Five seconds be damned. “I’m coming in.”

“No, no—wait!” Ranpo’s voice grew an octave, but Fukuzawa ignored it as he pushed the door open, taking in the scene before him.

Ranpo’s room was always messy, so the sight of the kids’ belongings all over the floor wasn’t a surprise to him. He’d long since given up that particular argument, although the room was messier than usual, almost as if Ranpo had been searching for something. What was surprising, was the shelves that stood next to Ranpo’s closet was no longer upright, but laying on the floor, all the books and knick knacks scattered about in the general vicinity.

And in the middle of the chaos was Ranpo, dressed in an oversized sweater and shorts, looking up at Fukuzawa from his spot on the floor with an expression that started off quite frantic, but flitted through a series of emotions before settling on nonchalance. Fukuzawa just blinked at the boy. “What happened?”

“Uh… it fell?” Ranpo was frowning now, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head.

Fukuzawa threw Ranpo a stern look.

“I may have been standing on it?”

“Are you telling me, or asking me?” Fukuzawa asked, stepping further into the room, doing his best to avoid stepping on anything in his path. “Pray tell, why you were standing on the shelving in the first place?”

“I needed something from the top shelf and you weren’t home to grab it for me.” Ranpo shrugged, making no move to stand up, or even clear a path for Fukuzawa, which irked the older man just a little. “So I decided to just grab it myself.”

“By climbing it?”

“What else was I supposed to do? Wait for you? I needed it now.” Ranpo scoffed, crossing his arms unhappily.

“Grab a chair?” Fukuzawa suggested, coming to crouch beside Ranpo, ignoring the way Ranpo’s face flushed red in embarrassment. Despite Ranpo’s high intellect, sometimes the boy did stupid things, such as scaling a bookcase like a monkey rather than do the sensible thing and grab a chair to boost him up the necessary height. But instead of scolding Ranpo, Fukuzawa just sighed. “No matter. Were you hurt?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Fukuzawa said, not believing Ranpo’s words. If the bookcase had fallen when Ranpo had been standing on it, then it must’ve fallen on top of Ranpo. Yet the boy refused to look at him, and the way he was sitting gave no indication of any hidden injury.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Ranpo snapped and climbed to his feet before he stormed from the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he left. Fukuzawa couldn’t help but blink at the abrupt departure. In the time they’d been living together, Ranpo had never slammed a door, had never been upset enough to need to be aggressive with inanimate objects. It was almost as if Ranpo had been angry, an emotion that Fukuzawa had rarely seen the kid openly express before—the last time being that night in the theatre when Ranpo had been so angry at not understanding the adult world, he’d thrown a fit—and the outburst had Fukuzawa just a little worried.

Give him some space. Fukuzawa told himself, rising to his feet and making quick work of uprighting the fallen bookcase, realizing that that must’ve been what Ranpo was doing before he’d walked in. Once the bookcase was back where it was supposed to be, Fukuzawa picked up everything he recalled seeing on the bookcase and placing it on Ranpo’s bed to be put away later. Anything he wasn’t sure about, was placed at the base of the shelf; books uncrumpled and closed, toys checked for damage before being put aside, and unknown objects receiving the same treatment. Fukuzawa didn’t dare to touch anything else and left the room once he was finished.

The bags he’d left on the counter were gone by the time he emerged, and the door to the bathroom was closed, and it was obvious that Ranpo wanted to be left alone for now. So, Fukuzawa did just that, tidying up the papers on the kitchen table and placing the rubbish left behind in the bin where it belonged. After everything was back in order, Fukuzawa set about making dinner as a way of passing the time. Dinner was never a complicated affair for the two of them, on account of Fukuzawa not being much of a cook to begin with, and Ranpo only eating one meal a day—sometimes two if he was lucky—so most of the time, dinner was literally rice, some vegetables and meat in a bowl. Sometimes Ranpo would request a specific dish that he remembered his parents making for him once, so Fukuzawa would do his best to replicate it, but that was about as fancy as dinner got.

“Ranpo, dinner’s ready.” Fukuzawa knocked on the bathroom door once he’d dished up dinner. Ranpo had yet to emerge from the bathroom, and based upon the silence he received in return, had no intention of leaving it anytime soon.

Fukuzawa sighed.

“Would you like me to put it aside for you to eat later?”

No response.

Fukuzawa bit back a second sigh, instead, bringing forth all the patience he had. “I’ll leave it in the microwave for you. Make sure you eat tonight, though. You didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

He waited a few seconds in case Ranpo had something to say, but still received no response, so Fukuzawa made his way back to the kitchen, placing Ranpo’s portion of dinner in the microwave like he’d promised before taking his own to the table and eating it. When he was halfway through his meal, he heard the click of the bathroom door, and a soft pattering of footsteps enter the kitchen. Fukuzawa watched from the corner of his eye as Ranpo threw the most certainly empty bakery bags in the trash—he had to stop himself from saying something about that, not wanting to upset Ranpo even further, but still upset himself since not everything in that bag had been for Ranpo to begin with—before he grabbed his dinner and joined Fukuzawa at the table.

Fukuzawa caught himself staring for a moment too long, Ranpo’s eyes flickering up towards him before the boy angrily jabbed his chopsticks into food, dropping his gaze and refusing to spare his guardian a single glance while he ate. And despite how desperately Fukuzawa wanted to ask Ranpo what was bothering him to have brought about this sudden anger, he kept silent, going back to his own meal, even though the food was now tasteless and felt like dirt in his mouth.

Not a single word was shared between the two while they ate, and Ranpo only ended up eating half of his dinner before he left the table, leaving his unfinished bowl on the table for Fukuzawa to no doubt deal with. As Ranpo stood, the chair scraped against the floor harshly, the noise grating on Fukuzawa’s fraying nerves.

He couldn’t stop himself. “I understand if you need space because you are upset, but there is no need to lash out like this.”

Ranpo paused just before the hallway and looked over his shoulder, glaring at Fukuzawa, who did his best to return the glare with a calm look. He already regretted the words he’d said as they’d left his mouth, knowing that responding to Ranpo’s sour mood with his own was just going to cause an argument that would leave the both of them feeling awful. Yet, Fukuzawa was tired. Tired of constantly cleaning up after Ranpo, tired of trying to figure out what was going through the kids’ head.

Mostly, he was just tired of parenting.

Deep down, Fukuzawa knew that this was just how the whole parenting gimmick worked; after all, he’d heard about it all from Kimiko and the others over time.

“Children love nothing more than to make our lives hell, but we keep loving and guiding them regardless. That’s just what being a parent is. It’s never the child’s fault when they act out, it’s ours for failing to understand them. Even if the reasons don’t always make sense.”

The sound of a door slamming drew Fukuzawa from his thoughts and he realized that Ranpo had gone back to his room, leaving him alone to a silent house. Fukuzawa sighed, bringing one hand up so that he could rest his hand on it as he pondered over how to handle this. This wasn’t the first time that the two of them had had a disagreement, and he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last, but still… something about this disagreement seemed different.

But he couldn’t put a finger on what it was.

Fukuzawa sighed and stood to put away the dishes before he retired to his own room to sleep.

Tomorrow would be a better day. He was certain of it.

When Fukuzawa woke the next morning, he strongly considered staying in bed considering it felt like the entire apartment had turned to ice overnight. He could’ve sworn he’d turned the heating on before going to bed, but suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he had. Just as he was about to get up and check on the heating system, there was a knock on his door just seconds before it creaked open the tiniest bit.

“The heating’s busted.” Ranpo’s head poked around the corner of the door as he stared down at Fukuzawa, looking just as cold as Fukuzawa felt.

Well, that explains why its so cold. “I see. I’ll take a look in a moment.”

“What you don’t believe me that it’s broken?” Fukuzawa blinked at Ranpo’s words, recognizing the tone as an unhappy one. Suddenly, the optimism that he’d had last night that today would be a better day was gone, replaced by exhaustion once again.

“That’s not what I meant.” Fukuzawa got up from his futon walking over to his closet to grab out something warm to wear. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ranpo shivering and grabbed another hoodie, chucking it in the kid’s direction. “I’ll simply take a look and see if I can fix it. If not, I’ll call someone to come take a look.”

“It’s busted busted though.” Ranpo said as he pulled on the hoodie over his sleepwear.

Fukuzawa paused. “What did you do?”

“Why do you think I did something?” A defensive note crept into Ranpo’s voice, and he crossed his arms across his chest. “It went out during the night, and I woke up cold. So I looked at it.”

“And?”

Ranpo shrugged. “It’s broken.”

“Ranpo.”

“What?” Ranpo snapped, lifting his gaze from where it had been focused on the floor to glare at Fukuzawa. “What do you want me to say? It’s not like I broke it. All I did was try and fix it and it didn’t work.”

“That’s all you had to say, not make me play guessing games with you.” Fukuzawa snapped back, pushing past Ranpo to leave his room. “There’s no need to get angry with me when I don’t immediately understand what you’re trying to tell me either.”

“I’m not angry.” Ranpo said as he followed Fukuzawa down the hall.

“Really? You’ve been snapping since I got back from the bakery yesterday, so excuse me for believing otherwise.”

“I had a bookcase fall on me, of course I wasn’t going to be happy about it.” Ranpo stopped in the middle of the living room. “And then you barged in when I told you not to and started looking at me like I was stupid!”

“Ranpo—”

“And then when I tried to give myself space, you kept bothering me!” Ranpo continued, pretending as if Fukuzawa hadn’t even tried to say anything. “I don’t need you judging me, I’ve had enough of that from everyone else in my life!”

“Ranpo!” Fukuzawa yelled, shutting the boy up before he could continue on his rant. Fukuzawa studied the way that Ranpo’s fists were clenched tight, shaking slightly from the tension within them, and how his bangs were carefully obstructing his eyes from view. Fukuzawa took a breath, trying to calm himself, even though his voice still came out rather terse. “Do not yell to make your point. Go cool off. When you are calm, we can talk.”

“Whatever.” Ranpo pushed past Fukuzawa, making his way towards the front door. Fukuzawa let him go, watching Ranpo pull his shoes on and leave, wincing at the loud slam that followed. And sighed. This was not how he’d imagined his morning going, not in the slightest, and he found himself staring at the door, wondering how it had gone so wrong in the first place.

Fukuzawa moved to sit on the couch, tipping his head to rest against the back of it as he thought back on Ranpo’s words. There had to be some kind of hint within what Ranpo had said that would enlighten Fukuzawa as to what was bothering his ward, yet the longer Fukuzawa thought on it, the more confused he was. He recalled Ranpo saying that he’d been upset by the falling bookcase—which was fair, and completely understandable—but Fukuzawa couldn’t understand what had caused the bad mood to last so long. Only Ranpo would be able to tell him just what it was that had upset him, so Fukuzawa resigned himself to waiting for Ranpo’s return, preparing himself for what to say.

Midday came, and Ranpo wasn’t home.

Sunset arrived, and still, Ranpo wasn’t home.

Fukuzawa tried to stop himself from worrying. It wasn’t the first time that Ranpo had been gone an entire day, even though they didn’t happen all that often, so he sat on the couch and watched the clock as time ticked by. He’d give Ranpo until the time they usually had dinner before he started worrying.

It was nine o’clock and Ranpo hadn’t walked through the door.

The worry that Fukuzawa had carefully buried sprung free, washing over him along with a feeling of absolute dread. Unable to stay sitting, he began to pace, pressing his phone to his ear as he dialled Ranpo’s number, only to freeze as he heard the device begin to ring from the kid’s room. His heart began to pound, so loud that he could hear it in his ears, feel it trying to escape from his chest. He took a breath to calm himself.

But he couldn’t stop the worry from turning into fear.

Ranpo was outside, alone, with no way of contacting him.

I have to find him. The thought was quick, and barely processed before Fukuzawa was flying around the house, pulling on his warmest clothing while also making sure he grabbed an extra jacket, remembering that Ranpo hadn’t gotten dressed before he’d left and that the nights were almost winter temperatures despite it still being early fall. He took the time to scribble a quick note just in case Ranpo happened to come home while he was gone and left the apartment, shutting the door, but leaving it unlocked.

He'd be scolded for it later, he was almost certain of it, but in that moment, all Fukuzawa could care about was finding Ranpo and apologizing to the kid. What for, he still didn’t know, but maybe the chill in the air would help him figure it out.

Where are you, Ranpo? Fukuzawa turned down yet another street after the one he’d just checked had yielded no results, the same as all the usual spots Fukuzawa had checked that Ranpo might’ve been hiding at. The man let out a shiver as a gust of wind chilled him right to the bone. At this point he didn’t care if Ranpo never forgave him for what it was that he’d done, just so long as he found the boy safe and sound.

But it had been an hour since Fukuzawa had started searching, and his fear was starting to turn into barely restrained panic. What was he supposed to do if he couldn’t find Ranpo? He’d have to call the police, that much was certain, but what could he say? Ranpo was a teenager, and it seemed to be common knowledge amongst law enforcement that teens often ran away from home, so what would stop them from just brushing Fukuzawa’s worry off like he shouldn’t be worried about the child he’d promised to protect being out on the streets alone.

If he got desperate, there was one person he could call for help, but he’d rather not indebt himself to a certain underground doctor if he didn’t have to.

And really, what would it say about Fukuzawa if he had to rely on someone else to find Ranpo for him? He’d taken pride in how he’d managed to come to understand the boy he’d taken in—even though it had taken a long time—and a part of him was confident that he could find Ranpo. Even if he was mad, Ranpo wouldn’t have wandered too far, that much Fukuzawa knew at least. But he’d checked every—

He paused.

There was one place he’d neglected to check, a place that the two of them had only visited once and while within walking distance from their apartment, was still further than Ranpo was comfortable travelling, especially on his own.

But he had nothing else to go off, so without another thought, Fukuzawa turned on his heel and to walk, hoping that he was right.

And he was.

Fukuzawa let out a sigh of relief, feeling the fear that had kept him going these past hours draining out of him, leaving him with just exhaustion and relief. The small park that rose to meet him was a welcome sight, as was the lone figure curled up against the lone cherry blossom tree that stood in the middle. The park was a little hidden gem that he and Ranpo had discovered while exploring the neighbourhood after they’d just moved in; a peaceful little place not big enough for children to play in, so it was left alone for the most part. In reality, it was just a walking path, used to get from one point to another without having to walk to the end of the street and back down another, but to the two of them, it was a park, a place to come to when one needed time to gather their thoughts.

There were other trees along the path, guiding people along, but the lone cherry blossom stood off from the rest of them, on a small rise that made it just that little bit taller than the others. It was almost as if it had been planted and forgotten about long ago, left to grow, alone and isolated from the other trees. Or maybe it had been here first, and the other trees had been planted after it? Who was to say?

Regardless, that lone tree had been there for the two of them just as much as they had been for each other. Fukuzawa carefully made his way over towards the tree, unable to stop the frown that adorned his face when he saw the shivers running through Ranpo’s body. Ranpo was curled up as small as he could make himself, hugging himself tight to conserve what little warmth he still had, and the hood of Fukuzawa’s hoodie pulled over his head, hiding his face from view.

Even though he had brought along a coat for this specific purpose, Fukuzawa found himself shrugging off his own coat and crouching to drape it over Ranpo’s shoulders. Immediately, Ranpo huddled into the warmth, drawing the coat around himself tighter. Fukuzawa didn’t hesitate to layer the second coat over the top, letting it cover Ranpo’s head even more.

“I’m sorry.” Fukuzawa said as he continued to crouch.

A singular green eye looked at him as Ranpo lifted his head slightly, an unreadable look on his face. A few minutes of silence passed before Ranpo finally spoke. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know.” Fukuzawa admitted. “I understand I upset you somehow, but I do not know what I did.”

Ranpo hummed. He dropped his head again.

Fukuzawa waited patiently.

“It’s stupid.” Ranpo finally said.

“It’s not stupid if it made you run away.”

Ranpo’s head moved again, and Fukuzawa was graced with the presence of both eyes this time, rimmed in red. Ranpo had been crying. “Then you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Tell me anyway.” Fukuzawa said, shifting so that he could sit on the ground, ignoring how cold it was. He was more than willing to endure a bit of cold if it led to Ranpo opening up to him.

Ranpo fidgeted for some time, deep in thought as he tried to gather his words together. It wasn’t often that Ranpo found it hard to say what it was that he wanted to, but even someone as blunt as him could be rendered speechless at times.

Let him be the one to guide the conversation. The words filtered into his mind, advice he’d been given once when first learning how to navigate parenting, advice that had so far, not failed him when he’d needed it. So Fukuzawa continued to wait.

“You looked at me like I was stupid.” Ranpo said quietly.

Fukuzawa frowned, confused. Had he? “When did I do that?”

“When the bookcase fell.” Ranpo hunched in on himself. “You looked at me like I was stupid.”

But it was stupid. Fukuzawa found himself thinking, not that he dared to voice his thoughts. Instead, he tried to recall just what kind of face he’d been making at the time, but couldn’t quite remember. He was almost certain that it hadn’t been the expression that Ranpo had thought he’d seen. “If that was how it looked to you in the moment, then I apologize. However, it was foolish to not think through climbing the bookcase. You could’ve been hurt.”

“I know that, now.”

“But that’s not the only reason, is it? Why you were angry, I mean.”

Ranpo shook his head. “I got angry when you came into my room. When I told you no. And then you kept pushing when I was trying to think and I got mad.”

“Ah…”

“Told you it was stupid.”

“It’s not.” It was Fukuzawa’s turn to shake his head. “You had every right to be upset when I entered your room when you didn’t want me to. I apologize for that. But what about this morning? When you left the house.”

“Insecurities.” Was all Ranpo said, and was the only answer Fukuzawa needed. Everyone had their moments where their inner demons got the better of them, and Ranpo’s demons of not being enough were no better. Ranpo must’ve been trying to get back onto Fukuzawa’s good side when the heating had gone down by trying to fix it, only to have it not go the way he’d planned and end up feeling worse as a result. Which explained why the boy had been so quick to anger at the time.

“I understand.” And Fukuzawa did, which was why he was more than happy to leave the conversation at that. “How about we go home? You must be freezing.”

Ranpo nodded, accepting Fukuzawa’s hand to pull himself upright, wrapping the jackets around him more as he shivered. “Did you get the heating fixed?”

“I forgot to after our argument. I’ll call them in the morning. There should be some more blankets if you need them.” Fukuzawa said, just barely catching the way Ranpo’s face fell at his words. He let out a quiet sigh and crouched in front of Ranpo, an obvious invitation. “Or if you want, you can sleep in my room.”

A cold, but slowly warming weight draped itself across Fukuzawa’s back, and the older man stood, making sure Ranpo was secure before he started walking. “’kay. Can we have hot chocolate when we get back?”

“I’ll make some.”

-----

Shopping was by far, the worst thing in existence. Fukuzawa found it hard to believe that there were actually people that enjoyed going out to the busy shopping centres and browsing the stores there for hours on end. If people just came out and bought what they needed, then the shopping experience would be so much better in his opinion. Fukuzawa sighed as he dodged yet another group of students loitering in the middle of the walkway, chatting with each other almost like there was literally nowhere else for them to do so. But Fukuzawa kept his head down and didn’t say anything. The longer he remained in the centre, the more his sanity would decline.

Normally, he didn’t need to set foot in the local shopping centre, everything he needed could usually be found at the small convenience store or at the weekly markets. But unfortunately, clothes were one thing that couldn’t be found at either of those, so he’d braved the crowds—after school hours no less—and walked around the many clothing stores, trying to find clothing that catered to his ward’s tastes.

Because Ranpo refused to set foot in such a crowded place unless it was for work, and the boy had been very firm in telling Fukuzawa that shopping for clothes was not a good enough reason. Fukuzawa had tried to argue that Ranpo come along to at least try on the clothes he was buying, but still, Ranpo had stood his ground, going as far as to shut himself away in the bathroom until Fukuzawa had given up and asked for measurements so he could at least buy the right size clothing.

Fukuzawa couldn’t wait to get out of the building so he could go home; all he had to left to do was buy socks, which should’ve been the easiest task of them all, but no, he had to buy the right kind of socks because if they were wrong then Ranpo was nothing if not fussy about what kind of socks he wore. Well, he was fussy about everything he wore, but when it came to socks, the fussiness was dialled to the extreme; it tended to drive Fukuzawa up the wall, yet he still did it anyway.

Because he cared.

The next time Ranpo tried to argue that Fukuzawa didn’t care enough, he was going to make the boy do his own clothes shopping.

The store he needed came into few and Fukuzawa relaxed. Finally, he would be done and free to go home. Quickly, he tracked down the nearest staff member and watched as their face went from ready to help, to mildly horrified as he asked them for twenty pairs of a specific pair of socks, which they thankfully had in stock. Just as fast as he’d gotten the socks, he paid for them and promptly fled the store, mentally hoping that the next time he had to set foot inside, it would have new staff that wouldn’t remember him and his request. Look at me… a former swordsman shopping for socks of all things.

Fukuzawa felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, seeing that Ranpo had messaged him. He stared at the notification for a couple of minutes, steeling himself for what the message may contain; the phone buzzing once more with another message. He flipped it open.

[16:43]

Greatest Detective: Are you still shopping?

[16:45]

Greatest Detective: Don’t ignore me.

Cat Dad: I am. Did you need something?

Fukuzawa bit back a sigh at seeing the nickname Ranpo had changed his name to, vowing to change it back when it got a chance to, although cat dad was certainly better than the original old man he’d started off with. He watched as the text bubble indicating Ranpo was typing popped up and then disappeared, repeating itself several times. Fukuzawa narrowed his eyes at his phone; Ranpo was delaying in telling him, which meant one of two things. One, he’d broken or lost something that he needed replaced, or two, it was going to be something stupid.

Bzzt. Finally.

[16:50]

Greatest Detective: Bandages.

Cat Dad: What did you do?

Greatest Detective: Nothing hospital worthy.

Fukuzawa sighed, turning away from the entrance he’d been making his way towards, heading towards the pharmacy he’d passed by earlier. He tapped out a response.

[16:51]

Cat Dad: I’ll get some. Don’t move until I get home.

“I hope you know how lucky you were.” Fukuzawa said as he dabbed Ranpo’s face with a damp cloth, carefully wiping away the blood that marred the kid’s face and apologizing when he winced. “How did you even fall off the balcony in the first place?”

Ranpo kicked his foot anxiously against the cupboard door; Ranpo sitting on the kitchen bench rather than a chair because it had been easier for Fukuzawa to clean up the boy’s wounds if he was at eye level. Fukuzawa was honestly impressed that after falling from their second story apartment, that Ranpo had only come away with minor injuries; a sprained wrist being the worst of the injuries, although the amount of blood had nearly given Fukuzawa a heart attack. Wiping away most of the blood had revealed a few cuts and lots of scrapes that could be easily treated with some antiseptic and band aids.

“I didn’t mean to.” Ranpo huffed, jerking away when Fukuzawa was a little too rough. Fukuzawa apologized before lightening his touch. “I was sitting outside and the wind caught one of my cases, so I tried to catch it, and went over the balcony.”

Fukuzawa sucked in a breath, knowing exactly how much worse this little accident could’ve been. He pulled back, chucking the bloodied cloth in the sink to be disposed of later before he grabbed a plaster to put on Ranpo’s cheek. “You are lucky.” He repeated.

“I know. Don’t need to remind me.”

Fukuzawa nodded, and instead gestured towards Ranpo’s wrist. “How’s the swelling?”

Ranpo pulled away the bag of frozen peas—because apparently the ice pack Fukuzawa had thought they’d owned had vanished—and Fukuzawa gently took the injured limb into his gentle grasp, the irony that it was the same wrist that Ranpo had broken years ago not lost on him. “It doesn’t look too bad. I’ll wrap it for now and we’ll see how it goes.”

A nod was the only response he got, so Fukuzawa let the silence continue has he pulled out the bandages he’d only just bought and began to wrap them around Ranpo’s wrist, making sure that they weren’t too tight, but not too loose either.

Once he was done, he stepped back to admire his handiwork, and nodded. “All done. No more balconies, okay?”

“Yes, Fukuzawa-san.” Ranpo sighed, shimmying off the bench and cleaning up the medical supplies, putting them back in the first aid kit where they belonged, while Fukuzawa went about preparing that night’s dinner. The silence between the two of them lasted approximately two minutes before Ranpo started speaking again. “Did you go check out that building that that Natsume guy told you about?”

“I did. It’s not the entire building, only the fourth floor, but it’s in a good location. It has a café below it.”

“A café?” Ranpo’s eyes lit up in delight as he spun to face Fukuzawa, looking like Christmas had come early. And well, when sweets were involved, it may as well have been. “You didn’t eat there without me, did you?”

Fukuzawa raised an eyebrow and gave Ranpo a look. “Of course not. I want you to see the building anyway before I confirm anything, so you can come with me next time and we’ll get lunch there. How does that sound?”

Ranpo grinned up at him without saying anything, the smile more than enough to bring a smile to Fukuzawa’s own face. “Is that enough bribery to get you to help with dinner?”

“Nope!”

Why is it so busy? How do all these people live in Yokohama? Fukuzawa grimaced as he bumped against another passenger that was standing inches away from him. The passenger threw him a dirty look before inching away, but where he intended to go, Fukuzawa didn’t know because the train was cramped, filled with people on their way to work, and students on their way to school. He’d completely forgotten about the morning rush that day as he’d dragged Ranpo out of bed and out of the house with the intention of seeing the potential building they would use as a base for their detective agency, and he was very much regretting not waiting an extra hour. The only consolation was that most of the crowd should empty by the next stop… hopefully.

“Ouch! Watch where you’re standing if you’re gonna lose your balance like that!” Ranpo’s voice snapped, and Fukuzawa refocused his attention on the present. Ranpo had been separated from him when they’d gotten on the train, but he was still close enough that if Fukuzawa really wanted to, he could reach across people and grab him. Right now, though, Ranpo was glaring up at a tall businessman that threatened to tower over Fukuzawa, cradling his injured wrist against his chest. There was a slightly pained look to the boy’s face, and it didn’t take long for Fukuzawa to put together that the man had bumped into his wrist.

“Maybe you shouldn’t stand so close if you don’t want to be stepped on, kid.” The man growled, leaning over in a way that had Ranpo leaning back to avoid him. Ranpo’s eyes widened just the tiniest amount, and Fukuzawa saw his throat move as he swallowed uneasily.

Oh no you don’t. “Excuse me.” Fukuzawa said gently as he began to move, carefully navigating between disgruntled passengers before he came to a stop behind Ranpo, dropping one hand on the kids’ shoulder, while the other went to grab a hold of the grip. His eyes met that of the businessman “Is there a problem, sir?”

The businessman, who did indeed tower over Fukuzawa, lifted his gaze to glare at Fukuzawa, who was more than happy to return it. He wasn’t called the Silver Wolf for nothing after all. The two stared at each other intensely, other passengers looking at them warily and edging away where possible. Finally, the man looked away. “Tch. There’s no problem. Teach your kid some manners.”

“Manners? It’s you—” Fukuzawa squeezed Ranpo’s shoulder warningly to stop him from continuing.

“It’s not worth it.” He said, shifting so that he was between the man and Ranpo. “You alright?”

Ranpo seemed to deflate, the tension Fukuzawa hadn’t noticed until he’d been standing behind him leaving his body a little, although he still appeared to be on edge. Ranpo let go of the grip in favour of holding onto Fukuzawa’s yukata. “I’m fine.” He said, his fist tightening its grip. “He knocked my wrist, that’s all.”

Fukuzawa nodded. “Just stay close, we’ll be there soon.”

Ranpo nodded and stepped closer to Fukuzawa, hiding away from the world in the only way he seemed to know how. Not that Fukuzawa minded, as he wrapped his free arm around Ranpo’s shoulders. Thankfully, the train began to slow, coming to a stop and Fukuzawa felt like he could breathe again as the train began to empty; new passengers embarking, but as the train started off again, it was clear in the way everyone seemed more relaxed, that it was much emptier than before.

Small mercies.

After another twenty minutes, they reached their stop, and Fukuzawa guided Ranpo off the train and away from the rest of the crowd. “Show me your wrist.” Fukuzawa said once he’d found a quiet place.

Ranpo looked up at him with a confused look, but offered the limb up anyway. “What, do you think a little bump is going to make it worse? As if. I’m not that fragile.”

“I’m just making sure.” Fukuzawa explained, ignoring Ranpo’s ‘fragile’ comment entirely, satisfied when the bandages seemed to be as tight as they had been when he’d wrapped the limb that morning. “Let’s go.”

“Ah, can we…” Ranpo started before trailing off.

Fukuzawa looked over his shoulder, a touch concerned when he noticed Ranpo seemed paler than before. “What is it?”

“Can we wait a minute? For the crowds to leave, I mean.”

Fukuzawa looked over at the crowds in question, and for once, was more than happy to adhere to Ranpo’s request. There were a lot of people leaving and entering the station, more than he was willing to force his way through. It would be far easier on the both of them if they waited for the crowd to thin before continuing on their way. “Sure, the buildings not going anywhere. We can wait.”

As it turned out, the crowds within the station were not exclusive to the station, because when Fukuzawa and Ranpo finally managed to get out of the station, the streets were just as busy. There were people literally everywhere, and it was admittedly, a little disorienting. He could feel Ranpo’s grip on his clothes tighten as a huge crowd of workers bustled around them, carrying on without a care in the world. Is there something happening? Fukuzawa frowned, making sure he had a hold of Ranpo as he guided the boy down the street, doing his best to avoid them running into other people. The crowds continued to grow, people chattering excitedly as they walked in the same direction.

“Can we find another route?” Ranpo’s quiet voice was almost drowned out by the cacophony of the crowd; if not for Fukuzawa keeping an ear out for his ward, he wouldn’t have heard the words at all.

And Fukuzawa would’ve loved to have taken another route that would take them away from the crowds, but this was the only route he knew—for now at least, he’d make sure to learn other routes in case this happened again—and he didn’t particularly want to drag out the commute any longer than necessary. “This is the only way, I’m afraid. Just bear with it a little longer.”

There was a reason why Fukuzawa left Ranpo behind when going into overly crowded areas.

Ranpo’s knuckles were white where they were clutching at him.

Pushing Ranpo in front of him, Fukuzawa began to force his way through the crowd, using his taller frame to carve a path. The crowd had steadily been building, and as they rounded a corner, Fukuzawa realized why there had been such a large group of people gathering. How convenient, that on the one day he brought Ranpo with him, it would also be the same day as the opening of the new shopping complex a few streets down from their destination. Fukuzawa’s pace slowed, natural-born curiosity causing him to look over at the shiny new building.

Several things happened then.

Loud cheers erupted from the gathered people.

Ranpo fell to his knees, clapping his hands over his ears, eyes squeezed together.

The doors to the building opened.

In a split second, Fukuzawa made a decision and reached down to wrap a hand around Ranpo’s upper arm and pull, forcibly dragging the boy to his feet. Normally, he wouldn’t be so rough, coaxing Ranpo into moving rather than forcing him, but once the crowd began to move, it was no longer about comfort, but making sure that Ranpo didn’t get trampled. Fukuzawa was quick, pulling Ranpo close and fighting against the tide. All the while, Ranpo stumbled behind him, eyes shut and body trembling.

Finally, the crowd opened up, and the two of them were free from people, but still, Fukuzawa didn’t stop moving. He kept dragging Ranpo behind him until he spotted a public bathroom, dragging the two of them into the safety of the empty—thankfully—building. It was then that Ranpo jerked away from him, falling to the ground, and curling into a ball, the emotions he’d been holding back breaking free. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and his breathing turned into a stuttering mess. He was panicking, and Fukuzawa could do nothing but watch.

Such an event had happened before, not long after Fukuzawa had taken Ranpo in, where they’d been shopping for supplies after moving into their current apartment. Fukuzawa hadn’t been able to recognize the signs at first, chalking up Ranpo’s hesitance of entering the building as more of a reluctance. But the shopping centre had been busy that day, and Ranpo had frozen stiff when they’d wound up in a particularly busy section. Ranpo had frozen for exactly ten seconds before the emotions had exploded out of him, and he’d become a panicked mess; Fukuzawa near panic himself. In the end, he’d scooped Ranpo off the ground and fled the centre, which had made the panic worse, and he’d wound up being punched in the face by a small fist. It was the first time Fukuzawa had experienced a panic attack from Ranpo, and he’d been hoping to never experience another one.

But of course, he was never that lucky.

Fukuzawa sat on the floor near Ranpo, near enough so that his presence was known, but not close enough that he’d make the panic worse. After that day in the mall, Ranpo had described how the panic had felt to him—like he was being squeezed and suffocated at the same time by some unknown force.

“What helps?” Fukuzawa had asked.

“Nothing.” Ranpo had whispered in return.

After the first panic attack, Fukuzawa had read up on them, reading stories about what had helped other people, and advice for what to do if someone you knew was experiencing one, so theoretically, he knew he could probably help. But none of that advice was applicable to Ranpo, not when the boy himself didn’t know what helped him. So, Fukuzawa was left to watch as Ranpo gasped and choked on the air, body shaking so violently, it was closer to a seizure than panic; emotions running rampant throughout his body.

Fukuzawa frowned, trying to think of anything he could do to help. Supposedly touch helped some people calm down, the physical contact between two people grounding them to reality and reassuring them that they weren’t alone. He didn’t know if Ranpo would appreciate being touched, so Fukuzawa scooted just that little bit closer so that he could lay his hand beside Ranpo’s curled fist, his fingers brushing the others hand just enough to let him know it was there.

He was rewarded when Ranpo’s hand latched onto his own, squeezing tightly with strength he didn’t know Ranpo even had. Fukuzawa rubbed his thumb across smooth skin, brushing over the knuckles in a repetitive, soothing motion. As he did so, he took deep breaths, exaggerating them so that Ranpo could clearly hear him—he’d heard that that was another technique one could use during a panic attack—and after another minute or so of Ranpo breathing erratically, his breaths began to sync up to Fukuzawa’s own. Once or twice, Ranpo’s breath would hitch and pick up speed, but a quick squeeze of Fukuzawa’s hand stopped it from getting out of hand again.

Eventually, Ranpo unfurled from his balled-up position, although he didn’t make a move to get up off the floor. He was blinking dazedly at nothing in particular, and looked exhausted.

Fukuzawa tapped his thumb against the back of Ranpo’s hand, drawing the boy’s attention towards him. He kept his voice low. “How are you feeling?”

Ranpo blinked at him. “Tired.”

“Do you want to go home?” Fukuzawa asked.

The grip on his hand tightened momentarily before it relaxed. A small nod followed.

“Can I touch you?”

Another nod.

With a nod of his own, Fukuzawa gave a gentle tug, and Ranpo inched closer. Another tug brought the kid into his arms and Fukuzawa didn’t hesitate to stand, bringing Ranpo with him. One arm went around his neck and the other latched onto his yukata, a head burying itself into his shoulder. No words were said—not that they needed to be—as Fukuzawa strode out of the bathroom, his phone in hand to call a taxi to take them home. There was no way in hell he was going to risk taking the train back home, not with Ranpo still feeling the effects of being overwhelmed. Fukuzawa tightened his grip; he should’ve realized what was happening the moment Ranpo had asked him for a break.

Ranpo was good at hiding his discomfort, often believing that any weakness shown in public was a sign of him being different. After all, normal people didn’t have emotional breakdowns and panic attacks when the crowds got too large, according to Ranpo anyway. Fukuzawa had been quick to refute that argument, refusing to let it become a mindset. Some people loved crowds, and others hated them, and it didn’t matter which you were, anyone was at risk of being overwhelmed. Ranpo was unfortunately, just one of the people that was more at risk.

“We’ll go another day. Just focus on staying calm.” Fukuzawa soothed as he ran a hand through Ranpo’s hair when he felt another shiver against his leg. Thankfully, the two of them hadn’t had to wait long for a taxi, and despite the exuberant fare, Fukuzawa had asked the driver to take them back to the apartment. He’d winced at the final price—maybe he could convince Natsume-sensei to reimburse him under ‘work related expenses’—and left the driver behind after paying.

Now, they were both back home and safe, the apartment silent compared to the crowds they’d been subjected to. Ranpo was curled up on the couch beside him, facing the back of it with a blanket covering his entire body in an attempt to hide. Every now and then, Ranpo’s body would tremble, and every time, Fukuzawa would run a hand through his hair, repeating his earlier words. It was all he could do in that moment, when only time would be able to heal the damage caused today.

But that was okay, Fukuzawa was a patient man, so he’d sit for as long as he was needed, until Ranpo felt better.

-----

How could I let this happen? Fukuzawa sighed, leaning back in the chair he’d been sitting in for several hours now, unwilling to move no matter how many doctors and nurses told him to take a walk, or go home to shower. He couldn’t, not when he’d be going home to an empty apartment, not when Ranpo was lying right there, on the bed in front of him, hooked up to various tubes and wires, unable to come home with him.

They’d been working with the local police force on a case; a serial killer that had been targeting young men and woman, beating, and torturing them until they grew tired and slit the victim’s wrist, watching as they bled out in front of them, watching the life leave their eyes in some sick twisted fantasy only the killer could understand. Fukuzawa had only seen the one corpse, the one that had been the reason why he and Ranpo had been called out in the first place, and the sight of the poor boy’s mutilated corpse had managed to rattle even his steel resolve, leaving him with a nauseous feeling. Even Ranpo had looked disturbed once he’d gazed upon the corpse, faltering on their approach. But that had only lasted a moment before he’d continued on, determination on his face, ready to solve this case.

And solve it he had. Ranpo, in a way that Fukuzawa had long since grown used to, spat facts and evidence at the officers that hadn’t even picked up on in their initial scan of the crime scene like the crime itself was being replayed in front of him. Even after all these years, Fukuzawa was always in awe of the way Ranpo solved cases, and this one was no different. With barely any effort, Ranpo had deduced the methods and motives of the killer, and from there, the identity of the killer.

That was all it should’ve been.

But it wasn’t.

The killer had been watching from the crowd that had formed, had been waiting for Ranpo to appear on the scene to enact his carefully cultivated plan of revenge. Because while Ranpo had been able to deduce the motives behind the deaths of the other victims, he had somehow missed the trap lying behind the trail of corpses. Fukuzawa had watched, unable to react fast enough, as Ranpo and walked over to an unsuspecting elderly woman and revealed her identity as the murderer the police were looking for. The woman had simply done nothing more than stare, before a manic grin appeared and shots were fired.

Somehow, somehow, they’d missed the signs of a second murderer, the woman’s daughter on the roof of the building.

The shots had caused everyone to look towards the sound, some officers already running towards the building with their own guns drawn.

The distraction had been long enough for the elderly woman to pull out a knife and by the time Fukuzawa had refocused on her, the damage had already been done.

He was never going to forget the sight of Ranpo choking on his own blood.

Fukuzawa hadn’t even thought, flying towards the woman, knocking her unconscious with a well-placed hit, leaving her for the police to deal with while he’d gone to Ranpo’s side, putting pressure on the worst injury he could see; a bullet wound to the chest. Ranpo had looked up at him with wide eyes, expression one of fear. For years, Fukuzawa had feared for such a day, where he wouldn’t be able to act fast enough to stop a killer from harming Ranpo. For years, Fukuzawa had done his best to protect the boy under his care, only failing sometimes—although they’d only ever been minor injuries that could be treated at home.

This was—

This was—

It was the stuff of nightmares. Fukuzawa had shed a lot of blood over the years, taken many lives himself, and failed to save just as many. But this was different. This was a boy he’d chosen to protect, chosen to bring into his life and care for as if he was his own, despite knowing nothing about parenting. And now that boy was bleeding out in front of him, gasping and choking for air his lungs were unable to take in. One of Ranpo’s bloodied hands and come to clutch at his sleeve, his eyes not leaving Fukuzawa’s own. He’d been speaking to Ranpo, reassuring him that everything would be fine, all the while keeping pressure.

The sirens fast approaching had been a blessing in disguise, and Fukuzawa would be eternally grateful to the bystander’s that had called the ambulance.

How could I let this happen?

He’s still just a boy.

I failed him.

Those were the thoughts that swirled throughout Fukuzawa’s mind as he rode with the paramedics to the hospital, and those were the thoughts that followed him as he waited in the waiting room while Ranpo was rushed off to surgery. And those same three thoughts continued to ravage his mind, even as a kind nurse had crouched before him and cleaned his hands of Ranpo’s blood, reassuring him that everything would be fine, and that Ranpo was in capable hands. Empty words; Fukuzawa would only believe that Ranpo would be fine when he saw him with his own two eyes.

Which was how he’d ended up sitting in a hard plastic chair for hours on end, watching over Ranpo whilst machines kept him alive. Fukuzawa had almost panicked when the doctor had told him that, but the doctor—amazingly, the same one that had treated Ranpo every time they came to the hospital—had reassured him many times that Ranpo had simply been placed into a medical coma in order to give his body time to heal from the injuries he’d sustained.

“It’s just for a few days. The surgery was rough on him, so we want to give him some time to heal first before letting him wake up.”

That was what the doctor had said before leaving Fukuzawa to his thoughts, and since then, Fukuzawa hadn’t moved. One of the nurses had been kind enough to bring Fukuzawa something to eat during the night, but he’d barely been able to stomach the simple meal, far too focused on the fact that Ranpo could’ve died—could still die. Fukuzawa sighed, leaning over so that he could rest his arms on the bed, one of his hands reaching over to cover one of Ranpo’s own, taking care to avoid jostling the IV in his hand. He allowed his head to rest on top of the covers and felt his eyes begin to close; there was no hope in him sleeping, but he could at least rest his eyes.

Just for a little while.

“Fukuzawa-san, are you sure you don’t want to go home, even just for an hour?” One of the nurses assigned to Ranpo’s care asked him as she flitted about the room, carefully checking on Ranpo’s healing wounds without so much as disturbing the boy.

“I’m fine here.” Fukuzawa said, watching her work. “It’s been—”

“Only three days.” The nurse interrupted him, giving Fukuzawa a kind smile, one that he was sure was effective in soothing her patients. “I know the waiting game is hard, Fukuzawa-san, but do your best to be patient. His injuries are healing well, and we were able to remove the intubation tube this morning. I’m certain Ranpo-san will wake up when he’s ready.”

What if he’s never ready to wake up? Fukuzawa couldn’t help but remember the way frightened, green eyes stared at him. It was the most frightened Fukuzawa had ever seen Ranpo look, and, well, what if Ranpo was too scared to wake up? What if his mind was somehow warning him that it wasn’t safe for him to wake up yet, and that was why he was still unconscious?

“Fukuzawa-san.” He looked up again, not having realized he’d dropped his head, into the nurses’ eyes. “Go home. Take a shower, and have something to eat. I’m about to go on break, so I can sit with him until you return.”

Despite every fibre of his being screaming at him to not leave, Fukuzawa gave a resigned nod, standing from the chair, ignoring the way the world swirled around him briefly from having been sat in the same position for so long. He really did not want to leave Ranpo alone, but he knew that if Ranpo woke up and found out he’d been neglecting his own health, the kid would give him a lecture.

“You always tell me to stop and take care of myself, so you need to do the same!”

“I’ll be back in an hour.” Fukuzawa promised as he left the room, Ranpo’s hypothetical words on his mind as he did so.

Another two days passed without Ranpo waking, and Fukuzawa had fallen into a routine with the night shift nurses. Before their shift would start, one of them would come and sit with Ranpo while he went home and took care of himself before returning to his post by Ranpo’s bedside where he would remain until the next night shift started. Despite the fact that the nurses had every authority to throw him out of the hospital once visiting hours were technically over, they never did; allowing him to sit vigil every night, for which he was grateful. It was better than the one night he’d gone home and fallen asleep when he’d sat on the couch; he’d been plagued by nightmares of being too late, and the sounds of choking, the smell of blood as pungent as if he’d been bathing in it.

He made sure not to fall asleep unless he was by Ranpo’s bedside since then, the boy’s presence enough to reassure his subconscious into giving him a dreamless sleep—if he slept at all, that is.

Ranpo’s injuries were healing slowly, but surely, according to the doctor that had visited that morning, and he’d been able to be moved to his own room instead of remaining in intensive care, no longer at risk of dying, not unless the world decided to be particularly vengeful towards a boy whose biggest fault was his addiction to sweets. The only thing they were waiting for, was for Ranpo to regain consciousness.

The doctor’s had told him that despite being unconscious, it was quite possible that Ranpo would be able to hear and feel things still; they’d said that comatose patients could often recall when visitors touched them, or spoken to them—not full memories, but partial ones—and that knowledge had been enough for Fukuzawa to bring a book back with him to read, along with the soft blanket from Ranpo’s bed. He’d worried they wouldn’t allow the blanket, but the nurse on duty had taken one look at it and helped him tuck it around Ranpo’s still form.

Right now, he was reading out loud, having pushed his chair next to the head of the bed so he could read quietly. One of his hands was resting in its usual spot atop of Ranpo’s own, a comforting presence that Ranpo could hopefully feel wherever he was. Fukuzawa wasn’t really paying attention to the book, his attention focused more on the beeping of the heart monitor and the rise and fall of Ranpo’s chest, but he did his best, keeping up a steady stream of words.

“Mmhm.” The sound was soft, but in the silence of the room, it may as well have been a gunshot, and Fukuzawa’s attention was no longer on the book, instead he stared at the boy in the bed, waiting, hoping, that what he’d heard hadn’t been a part of his imagination.

One eye cracked open, and Fukuzawa let out the breath he’d been holding upon seeing that brilliant green that he hadn’t seen in nearly a week. He kept quiet, staying calm, even as the eye drifted shut again, a soft sigh falling from Ranpo’s mouth. Fukuzawa felt tears form in his own eyes and fought to keep them falling. There would be time to shed tears later, but for now, he’d rejoice in the fact that Ranpo had woken up, albeit for not even minute.

The weight crushing his chest vanished.

It wasn’t until that evening, just as the doctor had done his usual check before going home, that Ranpo properly woke up. Because, of course he couldn’t wake up at a convenient time. The doctor had literally just left the room when Ranpo’s eyes—both of them this time—opened and fell to look at Fukuzawa. Fukuzawa had clasped Ranpo’s hand gently, giving it a squeeze as he called for the doctor. As the doctor scurried back into the room, Fukuzawa smiled at Ranpo.

“Welcome back.”

“Did you cry over me?” Ranpo asked as he shoved another spoonful of pudding into his mouth, gazing at Fukuzawa curiously, even though it came off more as if he was staring straight into Fukuzawa’s soul. It was rather daunting to be subjected to that gaze usually, but just for today, he welcomed it.

“I think anyone would cry when someone is bleeding out in front of them.” Fukuzawa said from his spot on the edge of the bed. After Ranpo had woken up and been examined by the doctor, the detective had claimed—demanded—he was hungry, so Fukuzawa had left the room to track down something simple for Ranpo to eat. He’d come back with a few tubs of pudding, and Ranpo had already eaten three of them while Fukuzawa watched in mild disgust. But considering all of Ranpo’s nutrients had had to be delivered via the IV in his hand, he kept his mouth shut and let the kid enjoy his pudding.

Ranpo was awake and talking, and that was more than Fukuzawa could ask for.

“Yeah well, I know that. But it’s you. You don’t cry.” Ranpo argued, pointing the spoon in his direction. “And I don’t remember what happened after I was shot, so tell me. Did you cry?”

Fukuzawa sighed. “Yes, Ranpo, I did cry. But only once I was alone in the waiting room wondering whether or not you were going to live or die.”

Ranpo nodded, satisfied, and then promptly changed the subject. “So, what happened to them?”

“To who?”

“To the murderers. You know, the ones that shot and stabbed me? I know shock makes you forget things, but surely you didn’t forget that much.” Ranpo said, and then proceeded to shove the rest of the pudding into his mouth, passing the empty cup back to Fukuzawa before taking the last cup and opening it.

“They were arrested of course. They have been charged for their crimes. After nearly killing you, they confessed pretty quick to everything.” Fukuzawa paused, debating on whether or not he should continue when Ranpo threw him an impatient look. “Their target was you all along.”

“Well, duh, I knew that.”

“Of course you did. But do enlighten me.”

“Well.” Ranpo paused to eat some more pudding. “Most of the killers and criminals we go after don’t tend to target me because I’m me, so when I saw the kind of people those two were killing, it didn’t take long for me to realize that they were targeting me. The old woman apparently had a son that killed himself when I revealed his crimes and she wasn’t very happy about that.”

“She can stay unhappy in jail.” Fukuzawa huffed, getting off the bed to throw away the empty cup in the bin before returning to Ranpo’s bedside.

“She won’t make it to jail.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“She’s sick. Something incurable. I’d say she only had a few weeks left to live when she started killing. I dunno about the daughter though.” Ranpo finished explaining, tilting his head to the side. “I’m not quite sure what possessed her to help her mother kill people.”

“Sometimes, love for family can make people do stupid things.” Fukuzawa said, not all to certain himself what reasoning the daughter could’ve had. He was sure the police would figure it out though, so if he wanted to find out, he could just ask them at a later date.

“Ugh, sounds terrible. Why would you kill a bunch of people just because your parents asked you to? If you told me to kill someone, I’d just call the cops.” Ranpo scrunched up his nose at the idea.

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t plan on asking you to kill someone then. But I will ask you to behave nicely when the nurses come to give you a shower today, though. We don’t need a repeat of last night’s incident.”

Ranpo’s face flushed a brilliant scarlet at Fukuzawa’s words and he turned away from his guardian to stare at the wall. “It’s embarrassing. I don’t like it. And I don’t need their help in taking a shower.”

“You can’t even lift your arms above your chest.” Fukuzawa argued. He’d stepped out of the room while the nurses came to change Ranpo’s dressings the previous night, only to return to a commotion from the bathroom. A cry of pain from Ranpo had sent Fukuzawa running into the room, only to see exasperated nurses trying to pick Ranpo off the floor and put him back in the chair. Apparently, Ranpo hadn’t taken too kindly to their attempts to help him get clean, so he’d fought them, only to fall and nearly reopen his wounds. Once Fukuzawa’s heart had stopped trying to escape his chest, he’d told Ranpo to behave before leaving.

Ranpo had sulked the rest of the night, but at least he wasn’t a biohazard anymore.

“This is stupid.” Ranpo whined, leaning back against his mountain of pillows. “When can I go home?”

“When the doctor says you can.” Fukuzawa explained patiently, for what felt like the hundredth time. “This isn’t like that time you were sick, or when you broke your arm. You nearly died, so the doctors need to make sure everything’s fine before they send you home.”

“Ugh, but I’ve already been here, stuck in this bed for two—”

“Three. You were unconscious for a week.”

“—three weeks. I’m tired of being stuck in this room with nothing to do.”

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer. Just be patient.” Fukuzawa soothed.

“I have been.” Ranpo huffed, a sullen expression on his face. “I just want to go home.”

Fukuzawa reached over and ruffled Ranpo’s hair gently. “I know you do. How about I see if the nurses will let me take you outside for an hour or so today?”

And just like that, the sullen look was gone, replaced with a beaming smile that Fukuzawa was not immune to, as a smile grew on his own face. For the past two weeks, Ranpo had either been in pain, or too tired to engage with him, so to see an actual, genuine smile on his face was a relief to him; a sign that he was recovering from the injuries that had nearly claimed his life. It had been scary, watching Ranpo fight to live. The first week had been spent in a whirlwind of misery and ‘what ifs’ and the second and third weeks had been just as stressful, with Fukuzawa worrying about whether Ranpo was going to recover from his injuries or not.

But as the days passed, Ranpo grew stronger, and would continue to get stronger, until he regained the independence he’d lost upon being admitted into the hospital. It would take time, but no matter how long it took, he’d be there right by Ranpo’s side, supporting him in every way just as he had been since he’d adopted the boy.

Fukuzawa didn’t know what he’d have done if he’d had to bury Ranpo that day.

He hoped that such a day would never come.

No parent should have to bury their child after all.

[lunarsilkscreen]

Why did I leave the military

In 2010, the repeal of don't ask don't tell happened, which was a landslide victory for gay men. But for Queer people in general? Iffy ground.

For the entirety of my existence I knew what I was, am, are. But gender confirming social policy and social stigma means you can't talk about it. Like the first two rules of Fight Club.

It exists, but you don't talk about it. Because quote: "It's morally and objectively wrong to wear clothes of the opposite gender."

That's the Line you can't cross. And yes, this includes Kilts if you're outside of the Ireland/Scotland area.

So if you're further than that on the queer spectrum, you look ambiguous, people confuse you for another gender, or they just can't tell. That is a moral and personal failing. One corrected through Hairstyles, clothing, and gendered perfume flavours.

So if you're a genetic men and other men are confusing you for a women, and other (maybe sapphic) women want to date you. They can't acknowledge that.

Just "Oh, we can't do that thing at all".

But the talk will go on behind your back regardless.

Some people look like me are upset because they aren't seen as the Pinnacle of masculinity. A trait I also shared, but not really cause it felt good mind you. I wanted to be a women. Right? At the very least, I was OK with ambiguity.

"so why the F*? Would you join the military if it would put you in the box?"

Oh you know, GI. Jane, the existence of the "Tom Boy". Video Games.

Plus I had a lot of reasons I couldn't continue staying where I had grown up, or with my family, or even continue going to college the first time around despite having qualified for the MEAP{ Michigan Educational Assessment Program } which awarded money to kids just out of high school for excelling at a test that summed up the entire school education.

Quick Google search says it's the "M-STEP" now. I dunno how many other students qualified. I just know I qualified for that *on top* of tuition incentive program.

To which people understandable ask what happened?

It was going great, but I had no way to practice for driving test to get out there. Had a friend, friend promised would help me. Which made me start the aid process. But that process had a two year limit on it.

That two year limit on it, along with no driver's license along with unstable home life, along with losing that friendship, because her words; "you're a bum". Along with whatever other list of grievances she had with me. Meant I lost that second year of aid. Gone. I need to stop trusting people.

So unstable home life, depression, definitely queer, definitely no friends. A friend of mine was joining the Air Force. And I thought "F* it, YOLO".

The complex reasons? That instability. That lack of future. The paycheck. And the possibility that I *might* be able to pursue my dreams that way.

So why the F* would I leave that behind?

In the Air Force, we're taught to lead from the front. I dunno if that's the same way in other branches, I assume it is.

At that time I was falling apart mentally, the only thing keeping me going was this knowledge that life sucked on the outside, and there was, and still is nothing out here for me. I re-enlisted for a little while, got to do a desk job with a lot of programming. But I was still falling apart mentally.

And when I went to pursue the reasons why, There still wasn't anything that I could do about it. Just me, and deteriorating mental health. And being Vaguely Queer, but not really getting along with other queer people cuz the community sucks. (most communities suck, but the gatekeeping in the queer community is something else man.)

And then, the cherry on top was the Executive Order by President Trump that trans people should be banned from serving in the military.

Many queer people accuse me of this being the only reason for it. F* them. You know why? Gatekeeping.

Excuse me for leaving on my integrity.

I could've stayed just a few more months until the end of my enlistment and not had to burn a bridge. But I used my other disability, let's just say arthritis. Because there's a list. As an instant out.

I could've waited and had the same benefits you know.

I could've stayed in and had a fulfilling career. Well, maybe. There was talk of a thing I was supposed to be up for. But it wasn't real until the moment I left. It wouldn't have stopped me from leaving either way.

But it was; A presidential declaration that the My (and by extension the Military's) Mental Health did not matter in the slightest. And the possibility of going back to a Job, Airline Mechanic, on a devasting weapon that had already taken a toll on my mental health.

And I couldn't deal with both of those possibilities.

So I saved what I could in order to bide my time for a job.

And everybody that I could've relied on back home. In any facet, I ended up being unable to rely on them, and with declining mental health that also didn't matter to them; made a string of decisions that put me in a bind.

And with no friends, and no backup, and relatively no voice.

I decided to protest the U.S. government. And Trump himself for being a megaphone for the Evangelicalsm that hated me. Made my family reluctant to support me. And just overall being Dick's.

Because, unlike those actually in the "queer community" I took a risk.

One that friends and family took advantage of.

I would say "calculated" but I knew what the ultimate price would be. Because I know how people act. I know how jealous and hateful and spiteful they are.

And they haven't proven me wrong yet.

[eradicatetehnormal]

My Zoomer Ass Watched Pink Flamingos For the First Time

So, I think? I enjoyed that. My taste in media is what most would consider garbage, but relatively safe garbage. Stuff that's garbage in the sense that it's poorly written or executed, not in the sense that it's genuinely filthy. I mean, 90% of my blog is dedicated to a video game series with anime and Disney characters, so yeah, I was really out of my element here.

So first off, I really like the way the movie characterizes Divine in the beginning. The standout scene for me was her putting raw meat between her legs. I didn't get it at first, but I read an interpretation of that scene where the writer said that Divine is meant to be, well, filthy. She shits on femininity and leaks nasty body fluids. She would always prefer to have flesh touching her, even if it's raw meat. That's genius characterization, imo.

The central plot of the movie is very entertaining, as well. I love the concept of two rivals duking it out to see who's the worst. We get some great moments out of it like Divine receiving a box of shit or her and her crew killing and eating those officers.

The main reason this movie has been on my mind is because a Youtube channel I'm starting to fancy, Anthony Gramuglia, recently made a video about how we need more bad queer representation, a sentiment I agree with. I'll always have more of an interest queer content that isn't about two, skinny, white boys from upper-middle-class neighborhoods talking about the pressures of being in the closet *bleh!* I'm just sick of seeing that shit hyped up.

But it was interesting. This film was one of the main examples of how unsanitized and offensive queer media used to be. That it wasn't as concerned with making queer people look good. Don't get me wrong, the character of Divine is anything but inoffensive, at the same time though, I feel like this movie makes her out to be the lesser of two evils. I mean, yeah Divine is gross, blowing her son, shitting in public, and cannibalizing people? That's pretty nasty, but she never reaches the heights of people who run a sex trafficking ring and flash themselves in public consistently ('cause I mean like, you gotta clean up the police bodies somehow, you can't have that stinking up your property. Also, that was arguably self-defense, the people at the party weren't really doing anything wrong.). She even does something somewhat heroic by letting the two women locked in the couple's basement free and get revenge on their rapist. I thought she was going to kill the two afterward.

Maybe that's the point, though. That there's a difference between being filthy and being evil. Also, Divine's revenge was just way better. Burning down a trailer and your ops aren't even inside? Cowardly.

This was an interesting watch. I can't go into detail about how much of a landmark this was on queer cinema and cinema in general. I just know that it was. On a scale of personal enjoyment, I'd give this a 7/10. And yeah, kill everyone now, condone first-degree murder, advocate cannibalism, eat shit. My final message. Goodbye.

[james-carslut]

Barbie Review ⚠️Spoilers Ahead⚠️

Greta did such an amazing job depicting what growing up and self-actualisation into womanhood feels to a girl as soon as Barbie enters the Real World. I just Felt So Much and I wanted to say my piece cause yes growing up- the tragedy to be congratulated for, how do we see it, what is it, how to represent it, the multi-facets of it, etc etc. But I mostly just wanted to talk about the part where Barbie just enters the Real World because-

1. The Male Gaze

sorry not sorry but the gaze is the first thing that Barbie feels is seriously off. Her literal reaction is 'i am conscious of myself because I am subjected to something that is violent' and as soon as i heard those words I knew I'm in for a cathartic montage of empathy towards my kid self cause now what i felt is in actual words and it's so nice to have a description from a child's vocabulary. I know what the gaze is and it's definition and all the terms but to have someone going through that same uncomfortable actualisation and trying to put it into words while my adult self just looks on at the screen, riveted and sad, yes.

2. The Conditioning

The normalisation of catcalling and general invasive genital questioning, public assault, punishment of self defense, realisation that systems of public protection are sources of further private attack (the cops further harassing Barbie), being broke whoops and being punished again (cough cough homelessness as a crime cough I see what you did there with the feminist agenda Greta cough), further sexualisation, all of it. A girls eyes opening to the Real World. For many of us, this was a moment when we tried to help an adult by saying "let's call the police" or "i can just ask the man to give it to me- money? I don't have money?" and then got Informed.

3. The Cynic Shakedown

Barbie talking to the schoolgirl was the moment when I took my painting to the teacher and she dismissed it saying the sky isn't pink. It was the moment when you turn to friends and they say "do you even care". It was the moment when you want to say 'I like that' and you don't (literally what happens in the movie). It's getting your heart broken by the cynic and it's the loss of innocence, it's a rite of passage and it's the beginning of how people curl into themselves in that moment and become the cynic so they don't feel it like that again. It's when you start being cruel to your mother and you start wanting to be right over being kind. It's inevitable. And it's also :(

4. The Negotiation

Finally some form of authority that can take accountability for this wrongness- wait this is off too- where are the women, what's your agenda- I'm sorry Mr. Man Dude what did you say you specialise in??- I'm so sorry that you feel I wronged you I swear that what not what I intended- no I genuinely didn't try to wrong you I'm sorry- okay I can fit in the box, i remember the box, it was okay- wow this box is very nostalgic haha except hold on, something's off and I really can't shake it off this time Mr. Man Dude- no wait please this box is claustrophobic- hold on a second you're all surrounding me and I just took a step back, i didn't step into the box willingly- wait wait why aren't you listening- can you please stop talking over me- wait please no I don't want to be in the box-

......... -hey hi haha let me just fix my hair please at least allow me to do that oh no I can't think of escaping because I can't think yes you're right I can't think at all except about my hair sometimes and I can't escape anyway because you see I know that I'm meant to be the damsel in distress and yes of course it's perfectly alright if you distress me just please allow me to step out for a second to fix my hair and: Mad Dash To Survival.

5. What is it for What am I for Why What does it all mean Why Why Just why

Despair as a level of puberty. And then being offered kindness, company, solace, empathy, comradry, being seen, being comforted. The oh, this is what it's all for, the in-betweens. These things don't just make it possible to rest before getting up to fight again, they are the reason why we fight. Why we get up everyday and outperform and then wonder if we're capable and do the same old same old Every. Single. Day. On repeat. And still feeling so alone but at least having carved out something resembling a purpose. A wish. A desire. Something to take a step for.

(and here, when Barbie meets Ruth for the first time do I understand the opening credits. The kitchen table to a woman that is the monolith the the ape. A space to rest, love, create, live, make, care and care and care.)

6. Communism

Comradry. "Get in Barbie!" And the Opening Up and The Bond and the i-know-what-you-meant looks and the hand-in-hand and the 'i'll do it for you even if I can't do it for me' and the 'you feel this too!!' and the reason why the death of friendships hurt in a place where lovers can never reach. Women. Solidarity. The helping hand. The divine Other but she is not the other, she is you, she is her, she is irrevocably human and faulted and yet she's here and she's lonely too, she's Barbie. She's me.

(ugh I'm tearing up and yeah I cried in the movie, the trees, the old lady, the mom's monologue, the final talk with Ruth, it all just got to me okay. The movie was exactly what I expected it to be and what I wanted it to be and it was perfect like Barbie)

I'm not complaining because everything I'm describing is just what growing up felt like. It felt like a hit after hit after hit of alienation from the world and from oneself and from security. And then there's the other side of tunnel, the perks of adulthood and having fun being a woman in a post-Barbie era. The falling in love with pink again, adult sleepovers, feeling like a Barbie when you rearrange the first house you rent, pretty stuff, strong stuff, kind stuff. And making boundaries with all the Ken's in a way that's fair to both you and the Ken and doing the work to be happy. Yeah. Thank you Greta.

[bohemian-nights]

It still blows my mind how Chris, the showrunner of the first 2 Bridgerton seasons, isn’t held accountable for any of that writing. The contrast between how he’s treated and given so much grace versus how they treat Shonda and Jess, the new showrunner. I’m just sitting her like, do they not see this? Mind you, Shonda isn’t even our showrunner. She doesn’t even write for the show. I’m not saying she’s not involved at all but…. if they’re going to blame Jess for a season that hasn’t happened yet and writing they haven’t seen yet, why wasn’t Chris blamed for the first two seasons? Why is he given so much grace? As if he was being controlled by the “evil” Shonda Rhimes? Am I crazy or is this fandom really weird about all of that? Why is Chris seen as the guy who should save us from the writing of future seasons? Why should he come back? What evidence is there that he could do better? I’m just so lost. It’s just blatant misogyny and racism and the fans don’t know how to be normal with their criticisms. The way Shonda is blamed for the marketing and not Netflix who’s really in charge of all of that. It’s insane. It’s interesting… They’re making me defend this woman who I’m not even that fond of myself like. But there’s just an obvious bias that I cannot stay quiet about. It’s a bit much. It’s not even subtle.

Shonda is definitely used as a scapegoat for obvious reason. With Jess, I want to give her a chance. Chris definitely shouldn’t be held up to a high regard after season 2. However, I think people are pissed at Jess because Benedict’s season was skipped and because of all the “leaks” that have come about.

Due to what happened yesterday the fandoms morals is at an all time low.

I don’t think half of what was “leaked” has any truth in it(specifically talking about yesterday), but since we have no actual way of verifying things until both part 1 and part 2 drop, people are reacting to what has been put out there.

Now if people are upset about the show being split into two parts, yeah that’s definitely not Jess or Shonda’s fault.

That’s Netflix trying to get more money out of one of their biggest cash cows cause they did the same thing with Strangers Things and The Crown. It’s a really stupid model and they either need to go back to releasing all of the episodes at once or spacing them out weekly.

In turns of where the fault lies with Shondaland, it’s I trying to hide the last two episodes for no good reason(well I suppose it’s to create hype, but all they’ve done is piss people off). With that move they’ve opened up Pandora’s box to allow trolls to run wild and play with peoples emotions.

Personally for me though, I’m reserving judgement until, I find out what they have done with Franchael and who is playing Sophie Beckett.

The show would be idiotic to try to place a Black woman in a role intended for a beloved male character. Bridgerton has established that gay people do not have a happy ending. so after what they did with Lady Danbury in QC, turning Mariana biracial when they know she has to die, doing that spinoff on QC which while beautiful was yet another tragic love story, it would be a slap in the face to Black fans to never give a Black woman a happy ending like every other woman is allowed on this show.

Our only representation on this show cannot be more pain and misery. It can’t be a relationship that must be lived out in secrecy.

You shouldn’t market your show to Black women(cause this show is heavily marketed to black people) say your subverting expectations and providing representation when you’re doing the same old same old.

For Bridgerton to be Shondaland production the fact that we haven’t gotten a Black female lead is disturbing to me.

Shonda is not involved in the day to day operations, but it’s obvious she’s involved in the big decision making like who are they going to cast in a lead role or who’s season is going to be next.

So if Sophie isn’t Black and Masali is somehow playing Michael and that’s our only representation then yeah it’s fuck you to Shonda, Jess, and everyone else involved in this mess.

Again I don’t think that Shondaland is that idiotic to do that. Mainly because even if they don’t care about Black women, Franchael fans damn sure will be mad about having their story ruined and it would be because just like with Benophie their story is gender specific, but I reserve judgement until I see things with my own eyes.

[thatfangirlofsb]

A/N: It's the end, although I'm going to post a short epilogue. It will also be put in the list of my fanfics.

T/W: Grishaverse spoilers.

Your highness (IX)

"It hasn't been that bad."

And at that moment, Zoya was tempted to hit Genya.

"Hasn't it been that bad?" She lay down on the improvised bed made from sacks and looked up at the ceiling. "Hasn't it been so bad? You didn't have to..." She straightened her back and looked around, Genya fixed her gaze visibly worried. "This is very quiet."

"Maybe it all ended well for us." The redhead stood up and fixed her gaze on Zoya with a serious look. "And don't try to get up like last time."

"I can't" She jingled her cuffs against the piece of iron to which they were attached. "I'm tied up like an animal."

"You didn't give me many options."

"You nearly knocked me out just to handcuff me." The squaller complained, watching as Genya carefully approached the door.

"You shouldn't have gotten up."

A bump hit the door, and the tailor grisha grabbed the wooden stick on the floor.

"I thought the torture was over."

"Shh."

"Did you just...?"

"Yeah."

Another knock on the door silenced the blue-eyed grisha. All the boxes and sacks trembled slightly, as Genya stood behind them with the stick ready. A strange sound, as if a pot of water was boiling and the steam could only escape through a small hole with great pressure, began to fill the cold room. It didn't take Zoya long to figure out what it was.

"Bomb!"

Genya ran to the two small bodies, each on one of the many sacks that were there, and covered them with her kefta and then with her own body. A small bang, milder than expected, caused the door to fall indoor. As if they were stampeding, they all rushed towards the hole left by that fall to enter the room.

"What...?" Zoya looked at everyone in surprise, although they were looking at her in the same way. "Nikolai Lantsov, explain to me why almost all of you are in your underwear. I'm sure it was your idea."

"We hear... what are you doing chained up?"

"I asked first." Nikolai hesitated, but was able to sigh in relief as he watched Zoya address Jesper. "Zemení, where were you? I didn't order you to leave in that boat."

"He took the opportunity to flee." The gunsman looked at Kaz in surprise, to which the boss was only looking at him for a few seconds from the side.

"Boss! I thought you'd support me."

"You thought." Kaz fixed his eyes on Nazyalensky, to which she returned his gaze with more fury. Then his glance shifted to the red-haired girl who seemed to be protecting a red kefta. "What's wrong with this one?"

"Genya, let me go. I'm going to break someone's only good leg."

"Are you sure you can, Nazalensky?" Dirty Hands said scathingly, turning his gaze back to the squaller. None of those who ran into the room had gotten past the boxes and bags that formed a somewhat disjointed barricade, and they weren't planning to do so at the moment. Except Kaz who, accompanied by his cane, passed through it and his eyes carefully investigated the scene. It didn't take him long to figure out what Genya was hiding. "I would recommend rest, and someone of your current status can afford it for several months." Zoya didn't speak, however she looked at him with confusion and then anger as she saw him slightly lift the free part of the kefta that protected them. "Very few women offer the crown two heirs in a single birth." Genya moved away slightly, and he took the opportunity to uncover the two babies. "One in green and one in blue, very unflattering colors for newborns."

"Kaz…don't lay your hand on them." Nina said, watching mindfully as Nikolai went from surprise to joy repeatedly across the features of his face. "Oh no. The face..."

"...of confabulation." Inej finished saying, noticing the expression Kaz showed when he turned his head towards them.

"Yeah." Confirmed Wylan and Jesper at the same time.

"Babies?" Nikolai snapped out of his trance, though not completely because of how his eyes seemed to be looking at nothing and were shining. "Two?" His legs quickened, and in a few steps he had already reached them and picked them up in his arms at the same time, beginning to spin on the spot. "Saints."

As if the last word had given wind to the others, all those who were missing ran to where the king was and began to caress the newborns. Even Matthias, who couldn't help but soften his exterior as he watched Nina grab one of the two in her arms and smile.

"Don't even dare to think about it, drüskelle!" Zoya yelled at him from the ground, seeing how he was looking at her and knowing immediately what he was thinking.

"I'll teach them to shoot."

"I'll teach them to do experiments."

"And me, the art of flirting."

"I will make them mini axes and they will train from a very young age."

"I already know who will inherit all my poetry books. They will write poems and know many more."

"I will teach them to take care of their beauty. They are beautiful."

"They will be the next Wraiths."

"Don't even think about… hello?" She sighed when she realized that no one was listening to her, so she decided to hit her handcuffs against the iron. "Hello, the mother is here. Can someone uncuff me?"

[°°°]

"Nikolai Lantsov, if you do something crazy, I swear you won't be able to take another step."

"When have I done something crazy, darling?"

"So many I can't count anymore. And don't call me darling."

"Why not? Aren't we together? You told me to try it."

"And every day you make me regret that decision more."

Everyone at the port looked confused at Zoya and Nikolai, who whispered to each other very confidently. Although that wasn't the first question they had. They were most curious about the reason why, within a week, the king had ordered all the Little and Grand Palace to move to Os Kervo to receive him. They knew that he was very excessive and that he liked glorious entrances, but that much?

However there they were, in the port looking at a large ship and crew members, known to some and not to others, came out of it. Though not all of them actually got behind the new parents on the dock; Nina and Matthias had stayed on the boat. The drüskelle, in the two months of travel it took to get back to Ravka, thanks to Zoya's prohibition about use the Little Science to take them faster, had made everyone there, especially the squaller, trust him more. Although for the king and the grisha, it was also partly because of the hours of babysitting that he did to let them rest after long nights of crying.

The ship stopped being so boring when everyone began to see each other a bit different, though the fights between Kaz and Zoya always filled the atmosphere of everyday life. Either because Kaz was near the two babies, because he didn't want to follow what the general said or because one of them was bothered by the other's breathing; anything was good to start a fight. But in the end, they had managed to reach a point in common; go ashore so they don't have to be on the same floating piece of wood for more longer. Something is something, and at the moment it was working.

"As you can see, thanks to the help of Kaz Brekker, we managed to find Zoya. I will always be grateful to..."

"Don't waste your breath and drop the gold."

Nikolai smirked, but decided to continue with his plan. Because, despite what he and Zoya had agreed to, none of it was going to happen. The squaller had spoken at that moment with a corsair in his old ship, and these were always sold to the highest bidder; a pity that the great, magnificent and beautiful king Nikolai had offered more.

"As friendly as ever, Brekker." He put his hands together behind his back and raised his head, for that short time he was going to act like the king he was. "It seems that, in the end, the rumors are true. I'm a bastard, so I can't be on the throne with Alina. A pity, sunshine. You haven't been able to enjoy my company." Zoya looked at him with daggers in her eyes, but remembering that now she didn't have as much freedom as on the ship. And Alina, in the front row watching Mal with a small smile, quickly changed her gaze to Nikolai as soon as she heard everything. What was he trying to do? "But since all of you adore her so much, I have thought of a perfect solution to this problem. She'll continue to reign, with a perfect companion. The throne alone is very boring, I know from experience. So Oretsev, if you don't marry Alina, I will go myself and force you. Your son, because that not-so-pretty little one is one of both, needs his real father." The last thing, even if it was said out loud, was addressed to Mal. The tracker couldn't help but show his surprise, changing his gaze from Nikolai to Alina, who was looking very doubtful at who seemed not like the king anymore. "Long live and blah blah blah. And I'll be left sad and lonely... oh no, news." Zoya played with her hands behind her back, very tempted to summon the winds against the blond who seemed to be crazier than she had thought. "Zoya and I are in something, we said we were going to try it. I know she proposed it to me because of our children, but in the end no one can resist me." He couldn't help but smile at the surprised faces of the people in the closest rows, mainly grisha from the Little Palace. "Oh yes, they are two months old. And we are also expecting another baby."

"Sorry?" She released, how could Nikolai say that when even she hadn't heard about it? "What have you said?"

"Darkling, Genya will explain it to you."

And Zoya would have yelled at him, if the tailor hadn't started talking to her in a low tone of voice.

"The tonic to avoid... you know... it was expired. And the symptoms are obvious." She quickly moved out of the way, shifting to as far away from the squaller as she could get.

"I hate you." She said, connecting all the dots in her mind and finally understanding what was happening there. But Nikolai wasn't the only one who knew how to play similar games, so she decided to join the game. "So... aren't you king anymore?"

"Correct." The blonde looked stunned at the blue-eyed grisha, seeing how she slowly approached him, strutting gently. "Then I can do..." Her voice went from soft and charming to a furious shout as she punched the opponent's cheek with great strength. "This!"

"You've got a competitor, Alina." Nikolai said jokingly, touching the area where he had received the blow almost without reacting.

"Don't believe it." Zoya said before summoning and throwing him into the sea with as much force as she could. "I'm much better."

Kaz clapped twice. And with Zoya's glare on him, she turned and began to go into the boat. Today wasn't the perfect day to receive all those looks.

—————

If you want to read the other parts, you'll find them HERE.