#honestly kind of sad I won’t get to sue the city

[dashcon-two]

y’all, how do I clear a life debt?? urgent, one of the co-founders saved me from getting hit by a bus this morning and I need to not be indebted to them for life please and thank you

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

Here’s chapter Two

Trigger warnings for abuse, this story has a lot of abuse mentions in it. 

Chapter Two: Let It Burn by RED      

               The trio watched in stunned silence as Payton argued with the receptionist over something and stormed past her. Just to look at him or be near him made their collective blood run cold. Something came off him, something untrustworthy. This was a man who could bend and break people, and he used to practice on them.

               He moved past them without so much as a glance in their direction. Good. And stormed directly towards a single room. A doctor took everyone by surprise and blocked his path.

               The doctor in question was a tiny morsel of a person with bright red hair and glasses that framed their face. That this of anyone would stand up to the literal worst was amazing.

               “I’m sorry, but no one in allowed in this room right now.” The doctor said, all five feet of them standing confidently.

               “I’ll have you know that my son is in that room! And you have no right to forbid me to see him!” Payton seethed.

               “Your son,” The doctor spat the words back at him. “Has been sedated and is now sleeping. And I have every right to keep you from charging in there and waking him up!”

               “I could sue you for malpractice as easy as I could snap my fingers!”

               “Oh, on what grounds?” They mocked in return.

               “Operating on a minor without parental consent! And denying access to the legal guardian.”

               “We did no such thing. And all I asked was that you don’t charge in there and wake up a child who had just been through considerable trauma.”

               “Do you have any idea who I am in this city?” He hissed.

               “I don’t care if you’re Jesus, you stay out here until the doctor decides that our patient is ok to have visitors.”                

               “Let me through or I will have no choice but to report your insubordination to an actual doctor!” Many people looked over at him as he yelled.

               “You think you can get up in my face ‘cause I’m TINY?!” The doctor snapped right back at him, not moving an inch. “Because if I call security right now only one of us is getting thrown out for causing a disturbance! I’ll let you guess who!”

               “You- you should be arrested for impersonating a doctor!” He fumbled the insult as he backed down.

               Roman walked up to the doctor as if he were in a western.

               “Is this guy giving you trouble?”

               “No, I took care of him.” The doctor said smugly.

               “It seems like you’re suddenly everywhere, Roman.” Payton sneered.

               “And it seems you weren’t home when I pulled your son from a burning building.”

               “Well if you were so conveniently there, I think that would make you a suspect.”

               A tired, disgruntled police officer came between them. Roman knew them.

               “So, you’re the kid’s dad?” The cop, Officer Joan asked.

               “I am, and it was my house that’s been burnt to ashes.” He rubbed his temples. “I feel like the world is testing me.”

               “Where were you at the time of the fire?” Joan didn’t care about his problems.

               “I was meeting with my campaign manager from ten o clock until twenty minutes ago, when I was called and told that my son was in the hospital.”

               “Can they verify that?”

               “Am I a suspect in this? Why would I destroy my own home, or endanger my son?”

               “I have to ask everybody these questions, I asked crazy twin guy the same things.” Joan rolled their eyes, pointing backwards at Roman. “Do you have any enemies?”

               “Yes, and more keep coming out of the woodwork.” He shot a glare at Roman. “I’m a very successful prosecuting attorney, I’ve put plenty of criminals in prison and angered even more defense lawyers. I’m also running for mayor, on the platform of clearing the city of immorality, which gives my opponents a motive. And my brother and his friends have started a smear campaign against me. Which I suppose makes them suspect, especially when you consider who was at the scene of the crime first.”

               “Crazy twin guy has an alibi that can be verified by about two hundred people. Save your bullshit for your day job.” Joan made a few notes. “If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to accompany me to the station so I can ask you a few more questions.”

               “About what? You can’t honestly believe I started that fire!”

               “No, this is about a few things we found odd about your house layout and son’s condition.”

               “I beg your pardon!” He said through gritted teeth.

               “That’s what you say to a judge, not a cop. You gonna come quietly or do I need to put the cuffs on you?”

               “What has Virgil been saying!? I demand to speak to him immediately!”

               “He’s been passed out for the past hour. And he was barely conscious when he got here.” The doctor chimed in. “He hasn’t said anything. Why? What were you expecting him to say?”

               “I invoke my right to speak to my accuser.” Payton hissed, rapidly losing control of the entire situation.

               “Me bitch.” Joan said, pulling out handcuffs. “Let’s talk in the car.”

               “Payton Foster, I’m arresting under suspicion of domestic abuse, child endangerment, disturbing the peace and arson.” Joan slapped the cuffs on. “You have the right to remain silent…”

               The sound of Joan reciting the Miranda bill faded as the two walked down the hallway and outside.

               “Doctor,” Patton asked timidly raising a hand. “Can you point me to the bathroom? I think I need to throw up.”

               “Right down that way.” They pointed.

               Patton darted off and only just made it to the toilet before everything came out. Had Payton really… could he? Sure, supposedly anyone could but, how could they?

                                                                               #             #             #

               So many memories of Payton just walking out and leaving him or their mother with the baby. Because he knew they weren’t going to leave a newborn to fend for himself. He never once thought to test of Payton would still walk out if he refused. But part of him always knew the answer.

               A tornado of his brother’s cruelty hit him upside the head with a tree.

               “Another ‘D’?” The taunting voice of his sibling echoed through. “Why do you even try? You should just quit school and see if someone will hire you as a janitor.”

               “If only we still had a class system so that people of your skill level could still find work.”

               “The only good thing about you being gay is that you won’t be able to have kids to raise to be gay.”

               “Your retard called, he realized he was too good for you after all.”

               “Patton does that retard know you were held back. That you literally couldn’t keep up with things the rest of us find easy?”

               “If you ask me, the retard’s parents had the right ideas.”

               And the ever present “What are you going to do cry about it?”

               And a lifetime later, alone in a bathroom stall Patton cried about it. After some time, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t need to turn around or say anything to know that it was Logan. Wordlessly he slid his own hand on to his husband’s and squeezed it as if it were the only thing tethering him to reality.

               “Child protective services just came in.” Logan said trying to mimic a soothing tone. “They’re going to be looking for next of kin, I think we should talk to them.”

               “Is this my fault?” The words came out barely audible.

               “No. It’s not.”

               “Maybe, but I didn’t help. I may have made things worse.”

               “Patton,” Logan stooped down to his level. “It doesn’t make sense to dwell on that. We’re here and we can’t change anything. The important thing is that Virgil is safe tonight, and his father may end up losing custody of him.”

               “To who? What if it’s someone worse?”

               “That’s why we’re talking to CPS right now. Come on.”

               Patton pulled himself together and joined Logan back in the land of the standing. He stopped to splash some water in his face so it wouldn’t look like he had been crying and the pair went out together.

               The social worker was a short man who was composed mainly of muscle. He looked like he could punch a hole in the wall, granted the hole wouldn’t be very close to the ceiling, but still. Patton couldn’t say anything about what this guy would do, but he was certain that this one could tackle somebody to the ground. But he had a kind face, and Patton could read him from across the room. He looked so sad as he listened to the doctor tell him about the case. And just a bit angry.

               “Boy am I glad he’s not mad at us.” Patton whispered to Logan as they got closer.

               Cobra Bubbles sighed and rubbed his face with both hands as if he were trying to wash the information off. They stopped in front of him and he looked them over.

               “I’m Patton Foster.” Patton held his hand out uncomfortably while trying to pull his hoodie down over his sleep shorts. “I normally wear pants I swear.”

               It wasn’t until this moment that he realized that he was criminally underdressed for any kind of interview. He wished hell would go ahead and eat him as he stood there in just his cat hoodie, with no shirt, and Blue’s Clues shorts (normally made for women, but he got an extra-large pair) that were just barely longer than his boxers, which he just realized were inside out. He looked at his feet to escape eye contact and saw that he was wearing one shoe and one sandal. Never mind hell eating him, he was already there.

               Logan didn’t look any better, sure he was wearing longer pants but they were white with unicorn print. And you could totally see his underwear through them. He had tried to cover that by dawning a long coat, but that just made him look like a school shooter. And the coat was unbuttoned anyway. Patton dared a glance at Logan’s feet and saw that he had his unicorn slippers on instead of shoes. But the worst part, oh the worst part was that Logan wore a powder blue t-shirt that had “Paw-ton” written in block letters across the chest with a big old heart. It was Patton’s shirt, and now everyone knew it was his shirt. And they knew what it implied, Logan wearing Patton’s shirt.

               Their eyes met in a glance of mutual horror as Logan pulled his coat closed with inhuman speed. They shared the same hope that maybe no one saw. Patton quickly sniffed the air, he couldn’t smell anything coming off them, maybe they were in the clear, at least in that instance.

               “It’s one in the morning.” The social worked cracked a smile. “I didn’t think you’d look presentable just now.” He shook Patton’s hand. “I’m Thomas.”

               “Oh, ok.” Patton retracted his other hand and kept trying to pull his hoodie down. “I’m Virgil’s uncle. Payton is my older brother.”

               “Why are you both down here? We haven’t even started calling the next of kin yet.”

               “Our friend broke his arm getting Virgil out of the fire. He called us to get him.”

               “Hi.” Roman waved his cast.

               “Hi.” Thomas nodded.

               “I’m Logan Berry,” Logan stepped up. “I’m Patton’s husband.”    

               “So, I take it that you two are ok with taking care of Virgil?” Thomas said, shaking Logan’s hand. “At least until we hunt down his mother.”

               “She immigrated to Italy after Virgil was born.” Patton stared at the floor. “I-if she wants custody of him, I won’t keep him from her. But I don’t know if she does.”

               “Poor kid.” Thomas looked back to the room. “Well, his mom still has parental rights, so we need to talk to her. But if she left the country and left her baby behind, I’ve got a pretty good guess on how that’s gonna go.”

               “Then it comes back to us.” Logan finished the idea. “And we’d be glad to take him.”

               “Yeah, and we’re all teachers. So, we’re great with kids.” Patton added.

               “It’s nice to finally hear some good news.” Thomas sighed. “Virgil’s not allowed any visitors tonight, so you can go. Come back in the morning and we’ll get everything sorted.”

               “Ok, I’ll be back in the morning.” Patton agreed. “I’ll be here with pants on.”

               His attempt at a joke seemed to fall flat, but Thomas gave him a good-natured smile. Patton and Logan backed away awkwardly before turning around and walking like normal people. Roman joined them and they all got into the car in silence. As soon as the doors were closed, Roman broke the silence by laughing.

               “What’s so funny?” Logan asked tonelessly from the front seat.

               “You two and the social worker.” He choked. “And dressed like that!”

               “We came down here at one A.M to get you from the emergency room.” Logan protested. “We were in a hurry!”

               “It would have been weird if we were dressed!” Patton added. “This actually proves that we’d be good parents, because our priorities are in order! When you get called from the emergency room you throw clothes on in the dark and come down!”

               “Must have been a good night if you didn’t have clothes on when I called.” Roman snickered.

               “FALSEHOOD!!!!!!!” Logan screeched, his entire body turning red.

               “I meant to say shoes! You throw shoes on in the dark! Because you already have clothes on!” Patton fumbled an explanation.

               “So, Logan has a shirt with your name on it because he belongs to you?” Roman teased.

               “You noticed?” Patton whimpered, turning red as well. “Do you think the social worker noticed too?”

               “Ok. No one is allowed to talk until the sun is up.” Logan ordered.

               When the sun did come up, and it came up rather soon especially for a Saturday, the three had other things to talk about anyway.

               “Ok, Patton and I are in one room, and you occupy one room.” Logan began.

               “I knew that SIRI.” Roman sighed. “What are you getting at?”

               “Well, there’s still Remus’s old room, Virgil can stay in there.”

               “We turned that room into a storage closet after Remus went to grad school.” Roman groaned. “I suppose I’ll start moving boxes.”

               “I believe that I’ll be doing most of the moving today, given your injury.”

               “I can still move things!” Roman protested.

               “No.”

               “Can I help arrange the stuff in the attic? That just requires me to slid stuff across the floor.”

               “I will allow that. And we may find something in storage that we can use.”

               “Kill two birds with one stone.” Roman nodded.

               “That’s cruel and has nothing to do with-… oh. Right, a metaphor.”  

                                                                               #             #             #

               Patton walked timidly into the hospital whishing he had stayed behind to get the room ready and sent Logan to deal with the paperwork. But as the legal next of kin, he had to be the one to sign everything. He wondered if he might get to meet Virgil while he was there. But what if Virgil didn’t like him?

               “I see you’re alone this morning.” Thomas startled him. “But at least you remembered your pants.”

               “Logan and Roman are getting the house ready.” Patton said quickly. Why did he feel so guilty, he hadn’t done anything? “They’re clearing out a room and all that stuff.”

               “You seem to be adapting to all this pretty well.” Thomas smiled warmly.

               “I guess, but we haven’t done any of the actual parenting.”

               “What, are you worried about what you’ll do if he comes out as straight?” Thomas joked. “You won’t have time to mess up, you’ll have me breathing down your necks.”

               Patton smiled back, temporarily relieved. At least this guy was friendly, he couldn’t handle a jaded, world weary social worker.

               “Let’s go over the paperwork and the background checks and afterwards we’ll see if the doctors will let him have visitors.” Thomas offered.

               Patton nodded and followed him to administration.

                                                                               #             #             #

               Logan finished organizing the attic and walked down the stairs only to meet Roman in the middle, dragging up a large wooden object. He used one hand and his elbow to grip it. Tell Roman he can’t do one thing and that’s all he wants to do.

               “What is that?” Logan pointed stunned. “And I told you not to lift things!”

               “A portion of my own bed from when I was in my teens. I got it from my parents’ attic. Now move, this thing is heavy.” Roman disregarded him.  

               Logan ran up the stairs, propped the emptied room’s door open and ran down to help Roman with the rest of the bed frame. After three trips, and a good deal of swearing they got all of it into the room. It was then that the truth about this bed came out.

               “Roman, this is the skeleton of a futon isn’t it?” Logan asked, ready to face palm.

               “Remus set my actual bed on fire! This was all they could do! And he set this one on fire as well!”

               “So. There’s no mattress either?” Logan completed the face palm.

               “No.” Roman looked at the ground.

               “Ok, this will have to do until we get him a proper bed, and we will get him a proper bed.” Logan sighed. “Let’s just put it together, where are the instructions?”

               “In the past, no one has seen them in over a decade.” Roman answered hesitantly. “But I helped put it together, I should be able to manage it.”

#             #             #

               Logan felt a migraine setting in and Roman had exhausted his vocabulary of insults from screaming at the futon. An hour had passed, Patton would be home any minute to see what a pair of failures they were. He was at his breaking point.

               “Of course!” Roman yelled triumphantly. “We can google futons like this one and use their instructions.”

               “Why didn’t we think of that an hour ago?” Logan said in a strained whisper.

               After that putting it together only took twenty minutes. This only added to their fury.

               “Ok,” Logan sighed. “I’m going to go scream into a pillow, then we’re going to get a mattress for this monstrosity.”

               “I’ve been thinking about that. We could get a normal mattress and put it on this, so then it’ll just be a normal bed.”

               “Roman, you’re a genius.”

               “Wow, you are out of it.”

                                                                                               #             #             #  

               The paperwork took longer than Patton had thought it would, and the background check took forever. Which was especially annoying because he didn’t have any criminal record. But all that was finally over, he was now prolonging the inevitable as one of the doctors explained everything that was wrong with Virgil.

               “So, Virgil is a good deal underweight and he currently has strep throat. And according to his records, he’s been sick a lot both this year and last year. And there were more than a few injuries. We haven’t had anyone analyze him yet, but we suspect that he has severe anxiety.”

               “Ok.” Patton nodded.

               I hate my brother.

               “He has a few burns from last night, mostly on the palms of his hands and the bottom of his feet. He inhaled a good deal of smoke, but there doesn’t seem to be any damage to his lungs. He also got a few scrapes and bruises from falling off the landing, and he broke his foot when he hit the ground.”    

               “Poor baby.” Patton exclaimed automatically.

               “And the last thing is,” The doctor sighed. “He has a few older bruises on his back, torso, arms and legs. They all seem to very in age.”

               Payton if you don’t go to hell, I will petition all the saints to send you there!

               “Is-is that why you suspected Payton of… of hurting him?”

               “Yes.” They sighed as if the weight of the world was on top of them. “One of the bruises is in the perfect shape of a belt buckle. There’s no explanation for that.”  

               Patton felt his heart racing, and everything turned red. All he could think of was the innocent little baby that he and his mother had taken care of because Payton wasn’t going to. It didn’t look like they were living in a kind universe, but he really hoped it was a just one.

                                                                               #             #             #

               Roman and Logan pulled into the driveway with a mattress strapped to the roof and an old dresser shoved into the back. The dresser had belonged to Remus, and for some reason he spray-painted it black, but that was ok. They could paint over that. At least it didn’t have any bodily fluids on it. Hopefully.

               Roman jumped out and ran to open the door, only to trip on a medium sized box someone had left there. There was a note on the obstruction.

               Crazy twin guy, dude’s going to jail for a while. Cleaned my closet out last month and was too lazy to get rid of this stuff. It’s your problem now. -Joan.

               “We have a benefactor Logan!” Roman said happily. “Officer Joan has given us some old clothes and a message of encouragement.”

               “What encouragement?” Logan asked, untying one of the ropes.

               “Dude’s going to jail for a while.” Roman recited as if it were Shakespeare.

               “That is good news.” Logan smiled. “Should we bring up the mattress first or the dresser?”

               “Mattress, it should be easier. And there is not a doubt in my mind that my brother put his penis on that dresser at some point.”

               “Sometimes I really feel like Remus needs to be sedated and institutionalized.”

               They both pulled down the mattress and hauled it inside.

               “I can’t believe we’re supposed to be identical twins. That means we have one hundred percent the same DNA! How does that make sense?”

               “Only one of you got brain damage.” Logan shrugged. “Besides, Patton’s brother turned out to be a narcissist, do you know how rare that is?”

               They fought the mattress up the stairs.

               “Sure, but it’s not like everyone in Florida is one, just Payton. Seems pretty rare to me.”

               With that they threw the mattress onto the frame.

               “There.” Logan said proudly, “A bed and Payton’s old desk, now all we need to do is haul up that dresser.”

               “Let’s just get that over with.” Roman sighed.

               The two drudged down the stairs and found one of their neighbors standing in the driveway. This one was a particularly annoying middle-aged woman. Single and childless, yet somehow a self-proclaimed expert on both relationships and child rearing. Logan turned right back around and went back inside when he saw her. Roman reluctantly went up to talk to her, it was the only way to make her leave.

               “Can I help you?” He asked flatly, hoping he couldn’t.

               “What are you three doing? I heard you leave at one in the morning last night, and now you’re going back and forth bringing furniture into the house. Are you getting another roommate?”

               “Yes.” A satisfactory lie of omission.

               “Where’s Patton? I saw him leave this morning, and he’s not back yet.”

               “He has a day job.”

               “But he’s not there, I already checked.”

               Roman rolled his eyes. Why couldn’t this one be a sweet old lady? Or I nice couple? Or a cute single guy, gay of course?

               “I don’t know then.” None of her business anyway.

               “You know what I think,”

               You forgot to ask if I cared.

               “I think it has something to do with his brother, you know the one who’s running for mayor, his house burned down last night. It was all over the news.”

               “If you don’t mind Logan and I still have a lot of work to do.”

               “Is it true what he said? You know about his and Patton’s mother?”

               “No, it is a blatant lie Patton already submitted proof of that.” Roman swung the trunk open and dragged the dresser to the door one handed. “Good day.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               Patton bit his lip as he listened to the phone ring on the other end.

               “Hello Patton,” Logan answered in his usual manor. “Is something the matter?”

               “No, I just need some advice.” Patton sighed.

               “Well, what is it?”

               “Virgil’s awake, the doctors are taking care of him now. And I get to meet him when they’re done. But should I wait and introduce us all at once or do it one at a time?”

               He was answered by a brief silence, then Roman.

               “Hey Patton,” Roman said quickly. “Logan and I are just dealing with nothing going on right now.”

               “Logan! Did you just punch me!?” Roman suddenly yelled. “You just did it again, you friggin book germ! Why are you signaling me to shut- oh.”

               “Roman?” Patton asked, now very suspicious.

               “Never mind all that. What do you need to know?”

               “Well, I’m gonna meet Virgil, but I don’t know if I should have us all meet him at once or do in in little bits.”

               “Ok, you’re already there, so I think you should just meet him as you. But you should definitely tell him that we exist.”

               “Ok.” Patton smiled for no one’s benefit. “What’s going on with you two?”

               “Nothing, good luck with the kid. Bye.”

               With that Roman hung up on him.

               “Ok, love you, bye.” Patton said to the dead phone.

               Patton returned the phone to his pocket and took a deep breath to steel himself. He glanced down at the stuffed bear he had bought from the gift shop, it had a little hive that said ‘Bee Well’ across it. That was the perfect dad joke to break the ice, and a cute animal to boot. He could do this.

               He looked through the window and saw several doctors and Thomas talking to a teenage boy. Patton paused. He didn’t recognize him. The baby face had been replaced with Payton’s jawline and Virgil had no baby fat left. In fact, he had almost no body fat at all. That can’t be good. In place of his little blond tufts of hair was long black hair, well long in the front any way. His bangs swept over his face like a curtain. The only things that were the same were his eyes. The same amazing violet eyes. Worry was reflected in them now, but they were still beautiful.

Right now, he was biting his lip and pulling his knees to his chest. Thomas said something and he started chewing on the bandages that covered his hands rather than his lip, the news was out now. Thomas sat down next to him and said something else, at that Virgil put his head on his knees and covered his head with his arms. With his messed-up hands, he fruitlessly pulled at his hair. Thomas talked to him for a minute more then walked to the door to let Patton in.

               Never mind. I can’t do this. Patton walked in quietly.

               Virgil didn’t look up.

               I can’t do this!

               “Virgil,” Thomas said trying to sound upbeat. “This is your uncle, Patton. And he’s going to be taking care of you for a while.”

               Virgil shuddered, and though he was trying to hide it he was visibly shaking.

               Ok, natural greeting. Neutral.

               “Hey kiddo.” Patton said softly.

               WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!!!

               “I know this is a lot to take in, and that you’ve been having a rough time.” Patton paused, where was he going with this? “So, uh… I’m not gonna press you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. And… I would like you to come stay with me, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

               “I mean.” Virgil finally spoke, his voice was strained. “I don’t wanna live on the street, and that’s kind of the only other option.”

               Patton walked up to the bed. He knew what to do, it was as if his instincts kicked in.

               “Can I sit down?” He asked. Pointing to a spot besides Virgil.

               “Do whatever you want.” Virgil mumbled into his blanket.

               Patton sat next to him and gingerly placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. Virgil flinched. He flinched and made a kind of whimpering sound in his throat. Patton felt a rage burn inside his chest. He feared that if he tried to talk, he would breath fire.

               “It’s ok,” He soothed. No fire, good. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

               “Isn’t that the bare minimum?”

               “I said we’d take baby steps. Nothing you’re not comfortable with.”

               “Yeah?” Virgil looked up at him, his eyes red with tears.

               “Of course.” Patton smiled reassuringly and ran a hand through his nephew’s hair.

               Virgil closed his eyes and sighed almost euphorically at the contact. Patton bit back bile at the thought that this poor, innocent kid was so completely starved for affection that he would all but melt for the first person to show him basic human kindness. If Payton didn’t go to hell…

               Virgil slid his head down and rested it on Patton’s shoulder. He had stopped shaking and was just at rest. Patton wished he had brought a camera, but he knew he’d remember this moment even without pictures. This one was going in the vault.

[zoeekar]

*goes to write a short, end of the year fic*

*hits almost 4000 words instead*

@s-nebul0sa this is fluff, right? 😂

“And so it would be advisable for people to stay indo-” The screen in front of Kara turns black and she blinks herself back to reality as a box suddenly -and roughly- nudges her arm.

“Orders aren’t going to wait for you, Danvers!” It feels like Snapper’s voice grabs her mind and forces it back to the present.

“They just said on the news that it’s dangerous to-”

“I don’t care what some ditzy reporter said on the news, Danvers. Do you want to get paid or not?”

“I do,” Kara hates every second of all of this.

“Then pack up your orders and go!” The man slaps a sticky note on the top box that has the order and the name on it and pushes Kara out the door.

The raindrops whip Kara’s cheeks as she speeds down the road on her worn-down scooter, the water splashing against her helmet and glasses, making it hard to see. Three deliveries down, one to go. All she needs to do is get to that apartment, on the other side of the city, deliver the stupid burger and then get back home to celebrate Christmas with everyone. Easy enough, she has more than enough time to do that. That said, however, whoever thought it was a good idea for people to be working on Christmas Eve had a terrible sense of humor.

She’s caught in a red light when the call from Alex gets to her and she taps the side of her helmet to answer. She feels a little bit like a badass, she has to admit, the silly rainbow helmet Alex got her a few years back does look kind of cooler with the Bluetooth addition she installed to it.

“Whatever it is, say it fast cause I’m on the road,” she says already knowing who it is.

“Are you actually outside right now?” Alex’ voice comes in muffled.

“Last delivery of the day and then I’ll be on my way back. Save some pre-drinks snacks for me!”

“I honestly have half a mind to sue your boss for reckless endangerment of an employee, did you guys not see the news? Or the outside for that matter... It’s pissing rain all day and-”

“I know, I know,” Kara rolls her eyes as she light turns green, “Snapper was being annoying again… Look, I promise, this is my last delivery for the day, I’ll be there soon, okay?” her voice hitches slightly when she takes a right turn tighter than she expects.

“If you’re speeding, I’m going to kill you,” Alex says in her serious, sister voice and Kara chuckles.

“I’m not, don’t worry,” she says. She’s definitely speeding. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back, I have to go.”

“Okay, you better. Take care, love you.”

“Love you too.” It happens before Kara even has a chance to blink. Her hand rises to tap the side of her helmet just as a surprisingly deep puddle appears in front of her and she tries to swerve to the right using only one hand to steer. It’s a bad idea, she realizes, as she feels herself losing all control of the scooter and heads straight towards a parked car.

It takes her a second to realize she’s fine. Drenched to the bone and with an aching wrist, but fine.

“Okay. Okay, everything’s okay,” she says to herself as she gets up and goes to pick up her scooter which, in contrast with her, is unfortunately not fine. Seems like the delivery box got the brunt of the hit as it is now laying there all open and broken and sad, the burger box surprisingly still inside, however. Kara wonders if she should just give up. Call Snapper, tell him what happened, go home to Alex and their friends and celebrate Christmas like she was supposed to do before she got roped in for an extra shift that day. ________________________________________________________________

“Hello?” The intercom crackles to life about three seconds after Kara pulls her finger away from the button.

“Big Belly Burger,” she says as she moves towards the door, ready to push it open. She frowns at the silence that follows.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” the voice asks.

“Um…”

“It’s usually polite to say hello, is it not?” Kara swears she can hear a smirk in the woman’s voice.

“I said hello,” she says. “I said ‘Big Belly Burger, hey’.” She is not in the mood for this. “I always say the same th-”

“No, you didn’t. You just said ‘Big Belly Burger’.” More silence follows after that and it has Kara wishing she could be anywhere else. “And it’s also polite for people to apologize when they’re late.”

Kara sighs. “Sorry… I got- held back…” The woman doesn’t say anything after that. “Are you… Are you going to let me in or…?”

“Or I could be a pain. I could… I don’t know, ask for a free burger or a complimentary dessert, couldn’t I? Your order is free if you wait for more than twenty minutes. Isn’t that what your flyer says?”

“It’s been twenty minutes?”

“Forty.”

“...oh.”

“So what now?”

Kara resists the urge to hit her head against the glass door. “I don’t know, Mrs Thorul…”

“It’s Miss. And my name isn’t Thorul, that was the previous owner. People were supposed to change the name but they didn’t and I just left it as is. Easier for deliveries,” the voice explains. “Anyway, that’s none of your business.” Kara simply sighs. “I’ll open the door but, honestly, I’m very annoyed,” the voice says after a moment and Kara feels a tiny smile making its way to her lips. She kinda likes that woman, she thinks. “Thirty-eighth floor, there’s only one door as you exit the elevator. It’s easy enough to find, I should hope.” ‘Even for you,’ it sounds like she wants to say.

The buzzer goes off and Kara pushes the door only for it to not budge at all. The sound stops for a second before it begins again, marking Kara’s second chance to get this right. Three attempts later and Kara is absolutely convinced she’s stupid. What’s so hard about opening a door anyway?

“You have to wait for the sound to stop and then push. Otherwise, the thing gets stuck.” Kara nods, her hand resting on the door, ready to push at the right time. The buzzer goes off, stops, Kara pushes, and the door- and the door remains locked. “Still nothing?” the voice asks.

“Still nothing,” Kara sighs, her head resting against the cool glass of the door. “Can you… Can you come down and collect it?” she asks in a quiet voice, almost scared to ask. She flinches ever-so-slightly at the sigh that makes its way through the intercom.

“Yeah, give me a minute.” Kara nods, not thinking of the fact that the woman can’t actually see her, and rests her back against the wall. It’s only a moment later when she decides to peek into the box just to make sure the order is okay and she thanks her lucky stars she does so.

“I’ll be right down!” comes the voice again before Kara even has the chance to stop pressing the button.

“Don’t bother,” she says with a sigh.

“Why?”

“The uh… The burger and I had a little accident on our way here. I’m afraid we’ve had casualties.”

“What happened?”

“Well, it looks like someone took the burger, chewed it up and then spat-”

“I meant the accident. Are you hurt?”

“Wh- what? No, I’m fine. It was nothing serious. Thanks for uh… thanks for asking.”

“You should get a new job. You’re not a very good delivery person.”

“I know. My boss always tells me the same thing.”

“Well, maybe you should listen to him.” The woman chuckles softly and Kara finds herself following suite.

“Maybe…” she says. “Look, you should just order another burger. Tell them what happened. They’re… they’re used to it.”

“Wow, you must be terrible at your job…” the woman chuckles again and Kara rolls her eyes.

“Have a good night,” she says as she makes her way to the main exit. Of course the rain has gotten worse; it’s just her luck for everything to go wrong the one day she needs to be home early. With yet another sigh, Kara takes a seat on the marble bench just by the door. ...

“Are you still there?” The sudden buzzing of the intercom nearly ten minutes later scares Kara half to death.

“Sugar,” she mutters as she tries to clean up her pants from a freshly dropped blob of sauce, ignoring the muffled laugh that makes its way to her ears.

“Shitty night, isn’t it?” comes the voice again, making Kara glance outside to her abandoned and absolutely drenched scooter. She opens the main door a little and chances a look up, some water droplets splashing on her face.

“Thirty-eighth floor, huh?” she asks as she lets to door shut. “Makes me dizzy just thinking about it…”

“Is that my burger you’re eating?” Kara only shrugs and hums in response. “Is it good?”

“The added broccoli was a bad idea.”

“Ha, everyone’s a critic.”

“What do you see from up there?”

“I can see your scooter. Poor thing looks so sad.”

“I meant when you look straight ahead.”

“Oh… Nothing. Well, nothing vertical anyway. Only the horizon.”

“Sounds pretty lonely…”

“What? I can’t hear you.”

“I said it sounds kinda lonely,” Kara says again, not even knowing where that bluntness just came from. “Being cut off from the world like that… To see nothing… Hear nothing…” she trails off as she makes her way back to the intercom. “Can you hear the rain?”

“Rain doesn’t make any noise up here,” the voice says. “It only passes through.” Kara frowns slightly. ‘Yep. Lonely.’ “I can hear the wind, though. And sometimes, when the wind is very strong, I can feel the building moving. It’s kinda… I don't know, comforting- in a weird way, I suppose…”

Kara wants to respond. To say that it sounds weird and lonely but also kinda peaceful in a way only a swaying building can be, but she doesn’t. She just hums softly, her eyes drifting shut and her mind traveling up those thirty-eight stories on a windy day. It makes her dizzy.

“You should go,” the voice says a couple of silent moments later. “It won’t last long.”

“What won’t?”

“The rain. I think it’s calmed down.”

“Oh… Yeah, it has. I should uh… I should get going, then.”

“Otherwise you may be stuck here all night. That would be silly...”

“Yeah…”

“Goodbye, Delivery Person.”

“Bye, Miss Thorul. Happy Christmas.” ________________________________________________________________

It’s been six days and Kara most definitely isn’t still hung up on the woman on the thirty-eighth floor. No matter what anyone says, Alex is a blatant liar. And she definitely hasn’t spent hours imagining what the woman looks like or anything. No, that’s creepy and Kara isn’t even going to talk about the mystery sketches on her sketchbook of a woman she has never met. That’s even creepier.

It’s New Year’s Eve, a time for family and celebration and change and big decisions that no one ever follows through with and Kara is all about that. She’s also all about pleasing everyone in her life and putting them before her own self so of course she says yes when Snapper calls her in for an extra evening shift. She’s going to quit one of those days, she swears she is. Until then, however, all she can do is smile and nod and wait for her shift to be over so she can go home and- not potato cause she said she would host everyone this evening, why does she always have to go above and beyond?

The bell above the door signals the arrival of a customer and Kara’s eyes fall on the clock above her. Eleven twenty. ‘Go home,’ she thinks before plastering a big smile on her face and turning around. The woman standing in front of her does not look like she’s supposed to be there at all. Kara eyes the fur coat that’s draped on her shoulders and the undoubtedly expensive jewelry she’s wearing and suddenly feels very underdressed even though she’s wearing her work uniform, like she’s supposed to, and the strange newcomer is dressed like she’s on her way to a red carpet.

“Hey, welcome to Big Belly Burger, what can I get you?” she asks in one breath before her voice and all coherent thoughts decide to completely leave her body.

“Hi, sorry, my car just broke down and I need to be somewhere soon,” the woman says in a voice Kara can vaguely recognize but not quite. “Is there a phone I can use or…?”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry! There’s a phone over here.” Kara picks up the wireless phone and offers it to the woman who grabs it with a look of gratefulness in her eyes. “I don’t think you’re gonna find any taxis or anything now, though,” Kara says softly. “Everyone’s home already…”

“You’re right…” the woman says. “And I gave my driver the day off too…” she mutters and Kara stifles a chuckle. Of course she has a driver, how could she not. “I’ll just- I’ll call my friend. I’m so sorry about this.” The woman apologizes almost on autopilot as her fingers are flying over the buttons. She hesitates for a second before pressing the call button. Kara can hear it ring twice before someone picks up and the woman tentatively walks away from the counter. “Hey. Yes, I know what time it is… My car broke down. [...] Some burger place, does it matter? [...] No, my phone is dead and Lucas has the day off. [...] Because he has a family and he went to see them. Look, can you send someone to pick me up? [...] Yes, I know you can’t leave your guests, I didn’t ask you to come. [...] Okay. [...] Yeah, okay, I’ll wait by the station. [...] Okay. Thank you.” The woman sighs as she hangs up the phone, her shoulders slumping visibly when she makes her way back to the counter, her lips pressed in a tight, forced smile. “Thank you,” she says softly. “Again, sorry about this, you probably need to be on your way home, too.”

“It’s honestly no bother,” Kara smiles. “Can I get you anything while you wait? On the house!” The woman lets out a laugh at the words and Kara can feel herself blush.

“It’s okay,” she says, her smile more honest this time. “I’ll just wait by the station, they should be here soon.”

“If you’re sure… I can wait with you if you want?” Kara offers.

“No, no, it’s fine,” the woman insists in a way that tells Kara she should stop offering her help. “I might take you up on that offer, though. How about a milkshake for the road? Chocolate. I’ll need all the endorphins I can get tonight.”

“Rough night?” Kara asks as she gets to making the drink.

“Rough family is more like it,” the woman lets out a bitter laugh. “Not the kind I would want to be spending new year’s with, anyway.”

Kara can only shrug slightly in response. “Oh… I’m sorry,” she offers "Well, here's to a better family," she jokes and shakes her head when the woman reaches into her bag for her wallet. “On the house, remember?” she asks. “It’s my last good deed of the decade, don’t ruin it for me.” They both laugh at that but Kara can tell the woman is having none of it.

“Okay… Let me do my last good deed of the decade too, then,” she says as she fishes out a crisp note from her wallet and folds it carefully before Kara even has a chance to see the amount. She goes to put it in the tip jar but hesitates for a moment; hands it to Kara instead with a smile and a wink that the blonde knows should have maybe creeped her out a little bit, but has just made the stomach do a flip instead. “I should get going,” the woman says after that, milkshake cup in one hand and a pen and a piece of paper in the other. “I’ll see you around.” She offers a small smile along with the piece of paper and Kara copies it tentatively.

“What about your car?” she asks as the woman steps into the cold night.

“I’ll have someone collect it in the morning,” the woman replies. “Thanks again for your help.” ...

It’s fifteen minutes to midnight when Kara finally makes it back to her apartment and she doesn’t think he’s ever been happier for having given Alex a spare set of keys. Everyone’s already there, the table is set, there’s a countdown for the new year on TV and a bunch of board games scattered around the floor. It all brings a beaming smile on Kara’s face.

“There she is!” It’s Winn the one who notices her first, immediately followed by Alex who gets up for a hug.

“Cutting it a bit close there, aren’t you?” she laughs as she wraps her arm around Kara who rests her head against her sister’s shoulder.

“I’m here now so let’s not talk about work, please?” Kara pleads with a smile and Alex nods.

“Tomorrow,” she says and it’s Kara’s turn to nod now.

“Tomorrow,” she agrees. “Now where’s the food? I’m starving!” They’re both laughing as they make their way to the kitchen, but it doesn’t take Kara too long to stop dead on her tracks and glare at the table.

“Why is there broccoli here?” she asks, a mask of disgust settling on her features. “This is disgraceful. Sam is great and everything, Alex, but this is a step too far!” Her anticks make Alex laugh.

“It’s not for Sam, you dope,” she chuckles. “It’s for Lena, Sam’s friend.”

“Who eats burgers with…”

‘Is that my burger you’re eating? Is it good?’

‘The added broccoli was a bad idea.’  

“...broccoli…”

“Hello, earth to Kara.” Kara has to blink herself back to the present. “You alright? You spaced out for a moment there.”

“I thought she wasn’t coming?”

Alex raises her shoulders. “She texted Sam just before you arrived. Apparently, New Year’s with her family was worse than she expected so she’ll be joining us in a bit.”

Kara frowns at that. “I’m onto you and your girlfriend, Danvers,” she says, making Alex roll her eyes.

“Alright, Sherlock, calm down,” she laughs. “There’s no grand plot here, just someone who had a shitty time and we’re helping them have a better New Year’s.” The doorbell rings almost as if on cue, Sam’s voice echoing through the apartment.

“I’ll get it! Lena, hi! ”

“She’s here. Go be hospitable!” Alex grabs the burger from Kara’s hands and pushes her towards the living room.

Kara sees the fur coat before anything else. Sam is helping her friend take it off and her back is turned to her so she can’t see the newcomer’s face, but she’s seen that coat before.

“I didn’t know what to bring so I just brought red and white.” she hears Lena say in that same, vaguely familiar voice “And rose,” she laughs and it’s only a millisecond before she turns around and her eyes fall on Kara who’s standing frozen by the kitchen. A frown passes across her face before recognition settles in. “I know you,” she says, her eyes shining as she takes a step towards the blonde. “You saved my ass earlier,” she says brightly before turning to Sam. “That’s who gave me a phone to call my mother, unwise as that idea was,” she explains with a smile and Kara has to laugh at the disbelief that crosses Sam’s features.

“Fuck off… Seriously?” Lena nods before making her way to Kara, her arm stretched for a handshake.

“I’m Lena,” she says with a smile. “It’s good to meet you under better circumstances.”

“Kara,” is all Kara manages to say before her brain completely fails her. “I’m uh… This is my apartment, hi.” She resists the fact to physically slap herself and settles on doing it mentally.

“Well, nice to meet you and your apartment, Kara. I apologize for my earlier state, I was… Well, let’s just say it wasn’t my best look.” Kara wonders what said best look is like.

“It’s fine,” she says and lets silence wash over them. “Are you hungry? There’s food in the kitchen and Sam made sure we have your favorite.”

Lena frowns at that. “Kale?”

“No, burgers with broccoli,” Kara states. “I thought it couldn’t get worse than that, but you just proved me wrong… Kale…”

“Oh, see someone told me a few days ago that adding broccoli to my burger is a bad idea… So I’ve decided to listen to them and their obviously superior taste.”

Kara gapes at the woman like a fish, her mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out. “I… You… The…” Seems like her brain is incapable of completing a single thought, let alone forming a coherent sentence.

“Kar, come on! It’s time for the countdown!” Kara shakes her head at the sound of her sister calling her but makes no move to go to her, her eyes still glued on the woman standing in front of her instead. The woman from the thirty-eighth floor. The woman who Kara hasn't spent days thinking about and who is definitely not the subject of her most recent sketches.

They all count the year down together, wine dangerously close to spilling every time the number changes and Alex sways enthusiastically. They all cheer when the clock chimes twelve, marking the end of an era and, quite possibly, the beginning of a new one, drinks forgotten as they all hug and kiss each other with huge smiles on their faces.

“Happy new year, Delivery Person,” comes a low voice from Kara’s left and she jumps slightly in surprise.

“Happy new year, Miss Thorul,” she replies with a smile and a blush that she’s pretty sure is reaching her ears.

“That’s not my name,” Lena says as she leans in closer to Kara.

“I don’t know your name,” Kara whispers, her heart beating a mile a minute. Is this going where she thinks it’s going? Does she want it to go where she thinks it’s going?

“I’ll see what I can do to change that, then,” Lena says and Kara knows, at this very moment, that she definitely wants this to go where she thinks it’s going and then, hopefully, even further.

[meldelen]

Dragons of Summer Flame - A (very sad) review

"So you would not apologize to her. You would not ask for forgiveness. What, then, did you want to say to her?" Raistlin was silent long moments. He had turned back to the bookshelves and was staring now at the shadows that surrounded the books, staring at a time that would never happen. "I wanted to tell her that sometimes, in my long sleep, I dreamt of her," he said softly.

Just for this moment, this sad, sad book is worth it.

Why sad? Because after the constant rise that the Chronicles and Legends have been, this closure is a bitter disappointment.

Dragons of Summer Flame is the conclusion of the cycle started with the Dragonlance Chronicles. Honestly, I’ve not re-read the 6-9 books that would go between the Legends and the present one I am going to review - series known as Dragonlance Tales and published as The Second Generation - because I don’t own copies nor did I ever. I didn’t enjoy them enough to buy them. Neither does this one, and it’s in my possession because it belongs to my husband, specifically.

From the Dragonlance Tales, a series of short stories in the style of the Preludes and other prequels and spin-offs, it was only memorable the moment when Palin Majere - younger son of Caramon and Tika and nephew of Raistlin - passed his Test for be a mage. And that's because of the chance of seeing Raistlin again, who’s mostly dead, although the idea that he survived to suffer daily the torture of Prometheus at the hands of his goddess has its macabre appeal. In the end it is just a hoax, like that abomination called Raistlin's Daughter, which I don't know how the authors could have come up with, since it fits the character like a slipper on top of a television.

But let us go to the present volume, Dragons of Summer Flame, a duology that includes The Knights of Takhisis and The War of the Gods in Spain. I said it’s a bitter disappointment, and not because it’s bad in itself - the story’s very original and very well written - but because the authors suffer what I call SAS (Successful Author Syndrome) that has led them, basically, to write a lot of fanservice and pull flashbacks because they already assume that readers will settle for it.

The story revolves around the second generation of the Dragonlance's heroes, that is, their children (or alleged children) and their actions to prevent Chaos, the father of all the gods of Krynn, who has managed to escape his confinement in the Graygem of Gargath, destroy the known world and all gods with it. As I said, it’s not a bad plot. The book rarely gets boring, although it does depending on the section. It has very positive things, such as giving more consistency to the social context, for example, of the city of Palanthas, providing more lore and depth to the story, something that they have rarely done until then. The idea of the evil knights adopting a honor code and polite behaviors to their enemies is also excellent. Not to mention the humor, as good as is always was in this series.

Dragons of Summer Flame. Cover art by Matt Stawicki.

BUT, unfortunately, they take it for granted that, as far as characterization, dialogues and character development are concerned, at this point their readers are unconditional fans and will accept anything. Nope, gentlemen, anything is not enough, no matter how great you were with the Chronicles and wonderful with the Legends. Unforgivable mistakes? Hold my tea:

1. Bring back characters that are already dead. Sorry, but in my modest view, this is a bad author resource. Yes, we loved them, we miss them, but they are dead. Leave them alone. Removing them from the grave is not going to make them better or more lovable. Sometimes the last memory, painful as it is, is the best memory we can have of a character. So leave them alone. The authors abuse visions, flashbacks, or even the physical return (it's a kind of magic!) of beloved characters from the past. Nope, it’s a mistake, because they don’t even play a prominent or relevant role. They are only there out of nostalgia, fanservice and to serve as motivation for the second generation of characters, who are alive. NO, NO, AND NO. 

Raistlin was dead, a martyr to his own ambition, from villain to hero in an instant, a living legend forever in Krynn. Why bring him back stripped of his magic, but still suffering his ill health, so that everyone rubs in his face his many past mistakes, suddenly forgetting that he also died because of them? You’re mean, people. Kitiara, Sturm, Flint, they are dead, let them rest in peace, it’s very annoying constantly bringing them back in visions or flashbacks. Even Tanis, who dies in this book, is soon brought back in another vision. Oh, c’mon!

2. The characters of the second generation are not well developed, they don’t have autonomy or their own personality, I don’t get to love them as I loved their parents. Why? Well, because the authors have made them live in the shadow of their parents (or uncle), stripping them from their self-agency.

About Tanin and Sturm Majere I hardly remember a thing, they start the book already dead, and I can't figure out if they were developed much in the Tales. Palin Majere is a shadow of his uncle, poor thing. I say this because there’s nothing wrong with him - he’s handsome, he’s young, he’s brave, he’s kind - and therein lies the problem, he’s a certified Gary Stu. But he lives with the expectations of being like his uncle, all the time compared to Raistlin, which is absurd, because Raistlin is/was incomparable. His evolution isn’t believable, because we know that he’s a mediocre mage - at best - and in the end we see him guided by his uncle, endowed with invaluable artifacts like the staff and the book of Magius, and doing an OP super-spell that hurts Chaos. Come on, please. We are not blind: victory belongs to Raistlin, who’s the one leading him throughout the book. And that final statement that he’s the greatest mage in Krynn? Please. We all know WHO is the greatest mage in Krynn - and poor Palin doesn't even get to the tip of his golden heel.

Steel Brightblade is Sturm 2.0 despite his mother, Kitiara, suddenly super interested in him - although she’s dead - constantly tries to turn him towards evil. Usha "Majere" is really nobody - thank you, glorified authors, for confirming that she’s NOT Raistlin's daughter and fixing this mess a bit - apart from being another Mary Sue who’s only there to be a link between the Irda - practically just taken out of the sleeve of the authors - and the other mortals. Oh, and to be Palin's love interest, of course.

The only decent character is Tasslehoff again, who, thanks to the gods, although more mature, remains faithful to his essence - and then they go and kill him. And how. Life sentence for Weis and Hickman for doing this to him.

Dragons of Summer Flame. Cover art by Larry Elmore.

3. Flashbacks, repetitions, memories, nostalgia, repeated explanations throughout the same book of events that we already know - and reencounters. Many reencounters. Tense reencounters. Happy reencounters. Reencounters. And the only reencounter that we don't have, the only one that I wanted, that I really needed, never happens - the one with Raistlin and Crysania. Yes, I admit it, it's very problematic. It’s to reunite the victim and her aggressor. Only that a part of me refuses to victimize Crysania, because as Raistlin well says, she knew - mostly - what she was getting into, and besides, Raistlin is totally unrepentant, he doesn't regret anything. But you get to see him reunited with the one that IS his true, real victim - his twin Caramon. In this bloody book full of unnecessary reencounters by mere fanservice, couldn't you have given me this one? Life sentence for Weis and Hickman for doing this to ME.

Anyway, I leave this ranting because I won’t solve anything either. Dragons of Summer Flame, and in general, all the books dedicated to the second generation are an example of why sometimes it’s better to stop writing about the same thing and give rest to your beloved characters. This epilogue, to be honest, was superfluous, better to have closed with the Legends. As a friendly reader out there says, seeing what Weis and Hickman have done to our beloved characters makes you want to shave your head and attack someone's car with an umbrella - only in quarantine I shouldn't and I also like my hair.

SAS. Successful Author Syndrome. When you have succeeded, it’s best to quit. And if you're still going to write more - among other reasons, because the bosses make you - at least leave your dead rest in peace. It’s the golden rule.

Needless to say, I haven't even bothered to read more Dragonlance books from this point on.

[f4liveblogarchives]

Fantastic Four Vol 1 #133

Fri Jul 26 2019 [11:31 PM] Wack'd: Anyway it's all guests this month as writer Gerry Conway and penciler Ramona Fradon step in for Thomas and Buscema [11:32 PM] Wack'd: Fradon is the first-ever lady Fantastic Four artist I'm pretty sure. And she'll hold the distinction of only female Fantastic Four artist for a stupid long time [11:32 PM] Wack'd: So, uh, enjoy her one issue while it lasts [11:32 PM] Aleph Null: how many years of timeline drift will it be before johnny was a fortnite teen [11:33 PM] Wack'd: Uh...probably another fifteen [11:33 PM] Aleph Null: franklin will never have the chance to be a fortnite teen F [11:34 PM] Wack'd: At least waitingforthet's prediction that Dani Cage would lap him didn't come true! [11:34 PM] Wack'd: Anyway [11:35 PM] Wack'd: Happy 1973! Have some depression

[11:36 PM] Wack'd: It's actually been 1973 for like four months now but other stuff was happening, just let them have this [11:36 PM] Aleph Null: isn’t “have some depression” always a new years mood [11:36 PM] maxwellelvis: I'm sure it was New Year's time when they first wrote this issue. [11:37 PM] Wack'd: i love these two so much

[11:37 PM] maxwellelvis: Johnny's depressed about Crystal, Reed's depressed about Sue and Franklin, Ben's always depressed, and Alicia's sad for them, I take it Medusa's still shaken about the whole Omega thing? [11:37 PM] Bocaj: Scare quotes [11:38 PM] Wack'd: For all your reaction needs

[11:39 PM] Umbramatic: thanks for the exploitable! [11:39 PM] Wack'd: Reed: Don't try to cheer me up. [11:39 PM] Wack'd: Medusa: Okay, I won't. You're being an immature child and need to get over yourself. [11:40 PM] Umbramatic: vkj;gfbaajgftl'gbvg'snwhb [11:41 PM] Wack'd: 🎶You don't know you're beaut~i~ful🎵

[11:43 PM] Wack'd: 🎵 Broken glass / Is glittering like diamonds / Can't hear yourself / Thinking over the sirens! / Push back the hands of tiiiiiime 🎶

[11:44 PM] maxwellelvis: Thundra, there's gotta be an easier way to get a guy's attention. [11:44 PM] maxwellelvis: Maybe show up with Abomination around your arms or something, eh? [11:45 PM] Wack'd: If Ben wins, it'll be a rare sight--the home team winning on the Mets' turf!

[11:45 PM] maxwellelvis: Zing [11:45 PM] maxwellelvis: Hey, you think if the fight goes badly, he can tag in Mr. Met? [11:47 PM] Wack'd: So Johnny decides to go deal with Thundra and I love this idle background detail of ladies being into Johnny. It serves no narrative purpose besides going "hey, Johnny's hot and women like seeing him undress"

[11:48 PM] Wack'd: Usually, when Johnny has oglers it's a plot point--he's too depressed or busy to give them any mind and the fact that they're so preoccupied with him is played as a joke at their expense [11:49 PM] maxwellelvis: Or they're there to make Spider-Man jealous [11:49 PM] Wack'd: So this is kinda nice. Just letting it happen without it being a Thing [11:49 PM] Wack'd: ...I really can't capitalize that word in this context, can I [11:51 PM] Wack'd: A thing with Thundra so far has been that people keep assuming she's going to use a weapon for blunt force, only for her to prove she's a tactical thinker

[11:51 PM] Wack'd: (Or, at least, it's happened twice) [11:51 PM] Wack'd: I dig the contrast between her overwrought warrior-speak and her, like, actual material intelligence? It's a neat bit of character building [11:51 PM] maxwellelvis: She is seemingly based on Wonder Woman, I'd be disappointed if she didn't fight with her brains. [11:52 PM] Wack'd: I'll admit it, I laughed

[11:53 PM] maxwellelvis: I noticed Medusa doesn't take her mask of even for a night in Time's Square [11:54 PM] maxwellelvis: Nor does she ditch her primary color [11:54 PM] Wack'd: She doesn't! I mean, if you think about it, back home those are just her street clothes [11:54 PM] Wack'd: "They're terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future." [11:55 PM] Wack'd: Thundra if you wanna keep up your "applying male stereotypes to women and women stereotypes to men" shtick you really shoulda abducted Reed or Johnny

[11:55 PM] Wack'd: This is disappointingly straightforward of you [11:56 PM] Wack'd: Then again, Alicia is the only one in the party without superpowers. Necessity is the mother of shtick-breaking, I suppose [11:56 PM] Wack'd: Sorry, father [11:56 PM] Umbramatic: i continue to appreciate how much ben looks like a Muppet [11:57 PM] Wack'd: He's definitely got kind of a Henson thing going on around the mouth [11:57 PM] maxwellelvis: I'd kill for a Ben Grimm designed by the Creature Shop, honestly. [11:58 PM] maxwellelvis: Carl Ciarfalo's Thing suit could have been, were that movie not just a cheap way to maintain Roger Corman's hold on the property rights [12:00 AM] maxwellelvis: Speaking of which, how sad is it that that's pretty much still the best Fantastic Four movie? [12:00 AM] Wack'd: Ben's physiology continues to astound me

[12:00 AM] maxwellelvis: Oh hey, now I got a better look at Johnny's new duds, I remembered where I've seen them before [12:01 AM] Wack'd: They're patterned off the original Robot Human Torch [12:01 AM] maxwellelvis: They're eventually going to be worn by Jim Hammond, yeah [12:01 AM] Wack'd: It has been pointed out [12:01 AM] maxwellelvis: When he joins the Future Foundation. [12:01 AM] maxwellelvis: and I take it he wore a similar getup when he was fighting the Nazis. [12:03 AM] Wack'd: It's weird that the city government is just cool with this lady not only setting up a wrestling match in a major metropolitan landmark but thousands of people turning up to watch. Is Shea selling *tickets* to this?

[12:04 AM] Wack'd: I think this might be my favorite full page spread so far

[12:04 AM] maxwellelvis: Hey, a show is a show [12:05 AM] maxwellelvis: Are you also just hearing Kimberly Brooks's voice with Thundra's dialogue? [12:07 AM] Wack'd: I'm really getting more of a Sharon Lawrence? [12:07 AM] Wack'd: Maxima from Superman: The Animated Series [12:07 AM] maxwellelvis: Ahh [12:09 AM] Wack'd:

[12:11 AM] Wack'd: “In retrospect, ‘uh-huh’ doesn’t seem nearly profane enough.” [12:11 AM] Wack'd: 🎵 All alone at the 64 World's Fair / Twenty dolls singing "small world after all" / Who was at the DuPont Pavilion? / Why was the bench still warm? Who had been there? 🎶

[12:12 AM] maxwellelvis: "I love paying to see a match on a TV!" -- Nobody in the crowd [12:12 AM] Wack'd: You joke, but we do get a reaction shot of someone complaining he paid 10 bucks for these seats [12:12 AM] maxwellelvis: And somewhere a young Vince McMahon takes notes. [12:13 AM] maxwellelvis: If I were in one of the seats without a good view of the backboard, right about now's when I'd be starting up a "Can't See Shit! Can't See Shit!" chant [12:13 AM] Wack'd: So Ben basically gets his ass handed to him but refuses to tap out [12:14 AM] maxwellelvis: This sounds familiar. [12:14 AM] Wack'd: Reed manages to fire a beam that'll turn Ben human enough *juuuuust* long enough for Thundra to feel cheated and piss off [12:14 AM] maxwellelvis: Way to solve this problem in the worst way possible, Stretcho [12:16 AM] Wack'd: And so the issue ends with Thundra releasing Alicia and the remaining Frightful Four commiserating that their brilliant "kill Ben and Thundra at the same time by blowing up Shea Stadium" plan was a bust [12:20 AM] Wack'd: That was a fun issue! I thoroughly enjoyed it

[yaz-the-spaz]

dRuNk/Like I Would/Let Me/Dusk Till Dawn

[Because apparently i’m on a song-inspired fic kick lately lol but this was also mainly just an excuse to get out my headcanon for the story behind like i would and i figured why not throw in a bit of back story and a conclusion by exploring a couple of the other songs too]

[Read it on ao3 here]

Summary: “Happy birthday, I guess,” Zayn says, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice at the fact that this is his third call and Liam still hasn’t answered. At the fact that he’s with her. At a party that Zayn wasn’t invited to...

Or: A series of drabbles based on the themes of the aforementioned songs…basically my headcanons for the moments that inspired these songs (these aren’t songfics though)

Disclaimer: Before anyone gets mad at me for this i wanna make clear that this is not at all meant to make Liam off to be the bad guy even though it might come off that way at first, this is just an expression of my headcanon of how Zayn might have seen/felt about things at the time based on my interpretation of the songs and seeing as this is told from a very one-sided pov things are gonna come off skewed just like they would in real life

*Also the interlude part is not meant to be a reference to the actual song called interlude from m.o.m. it’s just a general interlude in the story, like a break to set up for the shift in the narrative while still keeping in line with the song theme by using song/music terminology

dRuNk

Zayn feels like Liam’s invaded his senses. Like all he eats, sleeps, and breathes anymore is Liam. Liam Liam Liam. He’d never known it was possible to feel so intoxicated by someone before but that’s how it feels whenever he’s in Liam’s orbit. Like he’s shifted into another plane of existence where the only thing in focus is Liam, the only thing he can smell, see, hear, taste, touch, is Liam, everything else blurring to the background like white noise.

Late summer nights stumbling into hotel rooms together, eyes red and words slurring together, hands and lips mapping out each other’s skin till they’re breathless with want and all the things they’re too afraid to say in the light of day.

Zayn feels like the summer passes in a haze and every second spent apart from Liam feels like going through withdrawal. He wants Liam to know how much he needs him, how much Zayn feels like he can’t breathe without him, but he doesn’t wanna scare Liam away. Liam has this heady kind of effect on him though, makes him want to pour out everything inside him and never stop.

But Zayn always wakes up to an empty bed because Liam never stays till the morning. Half acts like this whatever between them is just a transient thing and Zayn’s not sure how much of it is Liam convincing himself that’s how Zayn sees it or just Liam being unwilling to admit to himself that this might actually be something. Not that it really matters. Because they don’t talk about it in the light of day, the hazy memories half lost to drunken amnesia and the ones purposefully forgotten, purposefully buried to keep things from becoming too real. But when night hits and the drinks start flowing again they’re both too gone to stop. Gone on this life, gone on each other, gone on what might just be love.

 Like I Would

“Happy birthday, I guess,” Zayn says, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice at the fact that this is his third call and Liam still hasn’t answered. At the fact that he’s with her. At a party that Zayn wasn’t invited to because she’s a vindictive—Zayn stops the thought before he can finish it. He won’t call her what he’s really thinking, even if she is. He hates using that word for any woman but if there was ever a case for someone who deserved it, it would be her. The way she drags Liam around like he’s some sort of fucking prize to be won, makes him feel like shit about himself on a near-constant basis, and then flashes that sweet smile for the cameras, lapping up the attention and milking it for all she can get while Liam walks around like a ghost, forcing his way through all the photo ops of fake dates and couple’s outings. She’d hooked her claws into him from the start like a lion going for its prey and Liam—sweet, trusting Liam—had bashfully welcomed the attention like a sunflower desperately seeking the light, unaware of the insidious ulterior motives lurking behind her carefully crafted facade until she finally showed herself for what she really was.

Now that Liam knows the truth he mostly just tolerates her, but what really pisses Zayn off is that he fact he’s still choosing her. He think he needs her. In some fucked up incarnation of the storybook ending he’s likely made up for himself in his head—a wife and a white picket fence and all that other bullshit. Doesn’t want to handle what confronting the truth about whatever this is between him and Zayn might mean for him. For himself, for their careers, for their images. Zayn worries about that too. Of course he does. But he doesn’t think it’s fair to just throw away what they could be, what they could have, for the sake of all of that. Because what is love if it’s not worth a risk, even one as big as this one, for a chance at a lifetime of happiness? Liam’s clearly chosen to go the route of pretending like none of that matters though. Like none of anything that’s happened between them the last few months—hell, the last two years—matters.

So yeah Zayn’s bitter.

But if Liam wants to be selfish enough to pull a dick move like this, that’s fine. Because two can play at that game.

“Hope you’re having a good time,” he says, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice this time round, even knowing how it’ll come off. Because they haven’t talked in a while—or what constitutes a while for them anyway, codependent as they’ve all become—mostly because of who Zayn knows he’s with right now. So him leaving an acid-laced voicemail like this while he’s out for a smoke is a pretty shitty thing to do, especially when the last time they talked was on such good terms.

But he also knows that he doesn’t really need to explain himself because Liam will know exactly why he’s so angry, no matter how much Liam might try to keep up the game of pretending like he doesn’t. That’s one of the things he loves about Liam, that he knows Zayn so well, knows exactly how to gauge his moods and how to respond or how not to respond, when to give him space and when to crowd him in because he’s not usually one to be very vocal about his emotions though Liam sometimes brings it out of him. But at moments like these it’s both a blessing and curse because as much as Liam brings out the good in him he’s also one of the only ones who can get Zayn riled up enough to go and do something stupid and shitty like this. No going back now though, he’s already in too deep. He might as well finish what he started and lay his bed.

“Don’t bother calling back when you get this cause I probably won’t answer. Be too busy getting smashed with Lou. Just thought I’d give the birthday boy my regards. Give Danielle a one-fingered salute for me, and enjoy your shitty birthday sex. Just remember she’ll never fuck you like I would.”

He drops the butt of his cigarette to the ground, crushes it under his boot in the same moment he pockets his phone. He knows he’ll regret it later. It was a cruel thing to say regardless and that’s on top of the fact that he and Liam haven’t even gone that far yet. But he’d come out here in a really good mood, buzzing and high on life and just wanting a moment to share it with Liam and wish him a happy birthday, only to have all his calls ignored while Liam spends the night with her. So sue him for feeling a bit vindictive and wanting to bring Liam down with him like Liam did him. He’s only human, and a pretty shitty one at that, he knows that. He’s still a thousand times better than her. But Liam’s clearly made his choice. And now Zayn’s made his.

 Interlude

Things come to a bit of a head in Vegas and the irony of the city’s tagline isn’t lost on Zayn. He’s half convinced at this point that the universe is just fucking with him for shits and giggles. And Liam’s not much better to be honest. Keeps turning those sad eyes on him like a lovesick puppy as if Zayn doesn’t have every right to be angry. He’s sick of the games. Sick of the back and forth. Sick of Liam fucking around with his heart because Liam can’t figure out—or better yet can’t admit—what he really wants.

She’ll do something shitty yet again and every time Liam comes running to him for comfort, only to go right back to her. Acts all apologetic and plays dumb like he doesn’t know what he’s doing is fucked up. But he can’t have it both ways and Zayn’s done. Or at least that’s what he tells himself. Until the moment Liam comes back to him again and then he’s right back where he started.

This time though. This time he’s truly reached his limit. And he damn well makes sure Liam knows it. Won’t speak to him, won’t look at him, won’t even acknowledge his presence, even when Liam sings right to him, and Zayn doesn’t care who notices. He’s too angry to think about anything or anyone else right now and it only goes up tenfold when, after, Liam comes to find him and has the nerve to act like he doesn’t know what he did. What he’s been doing this whole fucking time and Zayn can’t. He explodes. All the pent up rage and hurt pouring out of him at once.

Liam at least has the decency to look ashamed once everything’s out in the open. Makes all these apologies and promises and Zayn honestly doesn’t know whether to believe him after everything. But just like always when it comes to Liam, Zayn’s resolve inevitably crumbles. He’s still feeling too much that he doesn’t eve know how to process right now but Liam is so close and Zayn can’t help himself. Never could with Liam.

He’s honestly not even sure who’s actually the first to make the move. If you were to ask him later he couldn’t tell you, but it doesn’t much matter. What matters is Liam’s lips against his and the way he feels pressed skin to skin to him and the fact that he stays. For once he stays. And Zayn thinks maybe this is his way of solidifying all the promises he made. Bringing what for so long felt like a dirty little secret, something to keep hidden in hushed tones in the dark of night, into the light. Dares to hope that this thing between them might really truly finally have the chance to become something real. 

Let Me

Liam’s stayed till the morning every night together since and Zayn’s hopeful. Wants the chance to show Liam all that they can be, all that he can be for Liam if Liam will let him. Wants to show him that every second they spend together means something, that the moments they share—the conversations, the laughter, the sex, even the quiet moments spent laying together doing nothing at all—mean something. Wants to show him what real love can look like, feel like, what it means to have someone who truly cares about him. To have someone who doesn’t want him just to use him, who appreciates Liam for all that he is and would do whatever it takes to show Liam just how amazing he is until he believes it too. And Zayn thinks to himself that maybe he’ll have it, that chance.

This thing between them is still so new. Officially anyway. Vegas and iTunes and Germany still feels like only yesterday even as the weeks and months pass. But days off spent wrapped up together in the duvet and in each other, dessert for breakfast and the sun of countless nameless cities filtering in through the windows feel like the best dream he could have ever hoped to wake up to. Movie dates and balcony views and walks on the beach mixed in with stage antics and video game wars and late night dance-offs because no more are the nights relegated to secrecy and willful amnesia. Now the two of them gravitate easily to each other like planets in orbit. And Liam is still just as intoxicating as ever, but not in a way that leaves Zayn feeling heavy and hungover and regretful in the morning. More like the most pleasant and ever-constant buzz, like a fine wine instead of a too-strong cheap liquor, a feeling that Zayn thinks he’d be happy to live with for a long, long time.

And things aren’t always perfect. Zayn had still had his doubts at first, in the back of his mind—that maybe this wouldn’t last, that maybe he would do something to mess it up,  that he might show too much of himself and scare Liam away. But as the weeks turn into months and the months turn into years and the years go by those doubts fade away. Because Zayn may not know everything. But he knows now that what they have isn’t fleeting or trivial, isn’t something that can be so easily broken, no matter what anyone else might think. What they have is forever. And they’ll have the rest of their lives together to prove it.

Dusk Till Dawn

Sometimes the days get hard. Sometimes the nights are even harder. When the bed feels too big and too cold and too empty and he can’t sleep. When he’s been on his own for too long without Liam to calm him down and he snaps. Or when the stunts pile up on both ends, vile story after story that he doesn’t mean to see, hadn’t even been looking for, but does and he can’t help but get into one of his moods. Or when it feels like everything’s caving in on him at once and all the pressure gets to be too much to handle.

People see him on an off day and think he’s being aloof or rude, or misunderstand a joke that back home would’ve been no big deal and they make assumptions. They read what they read and hear what they hear and they see the way he looks and think he must see himself the same way they see him. That he must think of himself in some elevated way, like he’s above everyone else or like he’s trying too hard to be seen as different or edgy when really he’s just him. He’s just him. And all he wants is the freedom to be him in all that that entails. And the same for Liam.

Because they may be able to be more open now than they’ve ever been allowed to be before but they’re still nowhere near where want to be, where they’d hoped to be by now. It’s still like a breath of fresh air, being free of most of the madness of all the behind the scenes bullshit they’d had to put up with for so long. Being able to do more and more without having to constantly look over their shoulders or second guess themselves or worry whether they’ll be berated for just being themselves. And he knows Liam feels it too. That little pocket of relief every time they’re able to make a secret getaway or do or say something a little obvious that before would’ve been outright shut down on the spot.

But that doesn’t make the days apart any less hard. Or make it any easier to deal with the longing to touch Liam,  to feel him skin to skin or wake up to his crinkly smiling face in the morning or feel the warmth of the sun washing over them as they they make love, deep and slow and passionate. To be able to hold him when he’s upset or have Liam do the same for him.

He knows though that even in those moments when they’re an ocean apart that Liam is always with him. In the little things, like the rings and the necklaces and the bracelets and the clothes that they wear like badges of honor. But also etched into his skin in ink, as permanent as the space he fills in Zayn’s heart. Just like Zayn is for him.

[glare-daggers]

OK SO I just finished Before the Storm and I did enjoy reading it (mostly because I don’t read too deeply into the WoW books anymore it only makes me upsetti spaghetti to expect High Tier Writing and Quality Lore). 

That said, rambling thoughts:

-A lot happened but a lot also did not happen? Honestly if you read the spoiler pages you got the main jist of what the book was going to be.

-We had good bits with Moira and her son when Anduin visits Ironforge. We also get Moira’s tentative attempt to re-connect with Magni, by at least suggesting he stay and meet his grandson.

-Sylvanas knew about Baine’s continued friendship with Anduin, and let him know she knew. Baine as a result, has to cut off contact for the sake of his own people. 

-Anduin has a personal spy in the form of Valeera Sanguinar, and he trusts her.

-Alonsus Faol is a fuckin’ G, and remains a gr8 forsaken character.

-Calia had a husband and a daughter. She enjoyed a brief span of time with them in Southshore before it got blighted. Alonsus Faol was key in rescuing her/helping her when she was lost. Safe to assume they’re dead.

-AND NOW SO IS CALIA. Light-resurrected forsaken. I have 0 idea where they’re going with that tbh. 

-I realize these books always are a ‘set up’ for the coming expac but this one still left such huge gaps imo. I figure we’ll get more context in prepatch but I would’ve liked more things to happen that could be relayed to what’s going to go down in prepatch/in game. 

-Grizzek and Saffy DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER. They were the first to openly experiment with azerite, testing it and realizing it had healing properties, could be forged into armor or jewelry, or in some instances be deadly. But, when the ultimatum was to present weapons and not other sorts of inventions (that could do GOOD, like fortify cities to be defensible, HEAL people) to Gallywix for Sylvanas, they tried to escape and run off together. The attempt was tunneling away from their lab in Tanaris and send a distress robot parrot bird thing to Darnassus to try and get rescued. Saffy burned their notes about the Azerite, so that if anyone makes weaponry or anything harmful w/ Azerite, it won’t be because of their research. The escape was thwarted, obviously. They die because of goblin bomb after some goblin bruisers follow them after shooting down the distress message and taking back all the stuff they tried to take w/ them. 

-Say what you will, the whole bit of forsaken meeting up with their human loved ones was a good bit. I don’t care. It was adorable in some instances but also sad. Emma Felstone and her 3 sons and Phillia and her father were cute. Not so cute was the satisfaction Sylvanas got out seeing the few relatives that rebuffed their meeting when it came time to meet their forsaken loved ones. A woman that spent time getting flower pouch things and scarves for other forsaken to use, to minimize the obvious things that would unsettle the humans (the smell, the visible rot as she herself was missing a lower jaw) was rejected by her mother and left with bitterness and rage. :( I felt bad for Annie. I felt bad for Emma when her son’s are killed, same with Phllia and her father. 

-Anyway I’m pretty sure we’ll actually Just Kill Sylvanas at some point in BfA because while I’ve always been a fan of her as a character she’s legit got no redeeming qualities left at this point. Even as the Forsaken are written as most obviously revering her and actively MISSING that she’s not in the Undercity as THEIR queen while being warchief, she doesn’t seem to share that sentiment exactly. She just doesn’t seem to uh..care for them, the same way as before? 

Like Yikes City. This makes me even more curious about why the FUCK Teldrassil becomes a sudden target?? Like Yeah Azerite Is A Thing but?? Teldrassil?? Is so far?? Hello. I was really hoping some kind of reason or framework for why the FUCK Teldrassil was very obviously planned out as a place to nuke but noooo. ALAS.

Anyway I enjoyed reading it for shits and giggles, sue me.