#i also used to hate school as a teenager but then had an epiphany in rehab in 2020

[floridakilo]

not to get emotional in your inbox but school has been the biggest source of misery in my life but your blog makes me want to see it in a different light. junkie scholars save lives and careers amen 🙏

YAY

[willel]

I've wanted some kind of Jonathan and Steve friendship or comradery for a while. It may be because the actors have wanted this from the very start, but I am a big enjoyer of trios.

I despise love triangles that overstay their welcome. Especially love triangles that have already died and are resurrected because the writers can't think of anything more interesting to do.

Nah, I prefer a team of three pre and post love triangle drama. In real life I know it's probably way harder to get along with people you were previously in a love triangle with, especially if it ended badly or violence was involved. Which it was. But also see so much potential in a dynamic like that. The three of you have literally been through hell and back. Fought each other. Hated each other. Protected each other. At the end of the day, because of all that drama, you somehow know each other very well and can't help but want to stick around.

All that said, I don't like what season 4 did with this at all. Like I mentioned, I loathe zombie love triangles. I hate that they used Robin and Eddie's characters to dig it up and give Steve second thoughts about the whole thing. I dislike it even further than Steve doesn't have the decency to not make intentional moves on someone who is already in a relationship.

I think season 2 did a great thing by showing even though Jonathan and Steve don't exactly get along, he purposely got out of Steve's way and even lied for Steve about leaving the party to help a relationship that wasn't even his.

Petty love triangle relationship drama aside, no matter which side you land on or which ship you ship, I appreciate how they wrote Jonathan's behavior back then and I wish that had been extended to Steve. I also believe Steve would be the kind of person to lie or make up excuses for someone else from time to time, so why didn't they write that?

What I want for next season is basically the same thing, but better. I don't want more scenes of Steve trying to "win the girl". I want scenes of Steve trying to figure Jonathan out. What makes him different. Why did Nancy choose him? Who is he? I don't need Steve trying to fix Nancy and Jonathan's relationship, that isn't a requirement. I just need Steve to come to some kind of understanding about Jonathan specifically.

As an extension of that, I'd like Robin to do the same thing as I didn't appreciate her role in the S4 relationship drama either.

It's like they've both made up their mind about Jonathan without knowing him at all and tried to undercut him. I mean, that is something teenagers and young adults do so I'm not hating them for it. Just urg, why did it have to be written that way. They writers didn't have to do that.

On the reverse side of that, I want Jonathan to be doing the same. Who is Steve really? He's not that bad apparently so why not figure that out for himself? Doubtful they'll find a lot in common but hey, maybe they do find that one thing they can get along on and become friendly or friends?

If Robin and Steve are witness to Will (and El) being targeted again, maybe they can both come to an epiphany like "Oh, that's why he's like this. I get him now." (by that I mean, Jonathan's crippling fear of his family suffering or being alone, so much so he will drop EVERYTHING. School, friendships, and even relationships will take a backseat for the purpose of protecting his family)

I don't want this to turn into a "Gasp, I didn't realize you were sooooo amazing Steve!" I really want some mutual "You know... you aren't too bad at all." energy. It's LONG overdue.

Do I have any real hopes of this happening? No. Lol. This kind of stuff would require them actually writing Jonathan for once, which they haven't done a significant amount of in 2 seasons. My true hope is that they will completely shock and surprise me, pull a 180, and make a Steve and Jonathan friendship believable because I really do like the idea of it if it's coming from a mutual place of understanding and respect.

[nincompoopydoo]

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— PALM TO PALM IS HOLY PALMER’S KISS ; PART 3 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1846

SUMMARY: You’re back to teaching at Gotham High and you end up overlooking rehearsals for the GHS drama club’s upcoming annual play: Romeo and Juliet that no one ever attends. In the spirit of keeping your students’ hopes up, you decide to take it upon yourself to draft out a plan to drive more people to come to the play. The key is the man you’re in love with.

WARNINGS: Vague description of a nightmare, death and an annoying teenager.

A/N: This is really going slowly like a true slow burn. I hope yall like this one. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

In the light of your unemployment as a teacher, Gotham High miraculously offered your old job back after Mrs Wilson, one of the senior English Literature teachers, died of a heart attack unannounced. In all seriousness, apologies were made, admitting they had a mistake with firing you because well, you were clearly a passionate teacher. To your surprise, you were told your students even missed you. Hence, you accepted a job from GHS once again because you would do anything to avoid the smell of burgers and the sounds of hungry crying children. After the whole burglary incident, the Big Belly Burger at midtown was forever doomed as customers gradually decreased over time. It was Gotham after all, people should be used to these kinds of things by now. Including witnessing Batman saving you, the whole experience felt like a fever dream. As excited you were and weirdly unbothered by the whole near-death experience, you realized that if you were to talk about it, no one would genuinely believe you anyway. He was a myth to most citizens of Gotham, but you’re an exception because you’re well acquainted with the knowledge that Bruce definitely knows Batman.

And oh boy, do they talk.

It’s your secret to keep and so is the Batarang you stole. You’re also dying to tell Bruce.

So, you find yourself back in the hallways, crowded with sweaty teenagers, but you would choose this over anything else in a heartbeat. Apart from returning to teaching uninterested students about the works of Shakespeare and Harper Lee and forcing reading lists onto them, you are also replacing Mrs Wilson as the GHS Drama Club’s advisor. Stage performance may be personally foreign to you but plays were practically your forte. That was how you ended up spending your Tuesday afternoons, preparing the members for the club’s annual play. This time, they decided to perform the classic: Romeo and Juliet.

As an English teacher, you were frankly sick of the play, forbidden love was a tad overrated to you. Yet the kids were genuinely trying their best. Shaniqua and Oscar were currently rehearsing their lines as the two infamous star-crossed lovers; You watched them with pride. The two were quiet in your classes but they truly shone on the stage of the school theatre.

“And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss—teach, what does this whole scene even mean?” Shaniqua exclaims and you chuckle, “This scene is simply a metaphor where Romeo is a pilgrim wanting to erase his sins and Juliet is a saint. So, he is basically trying to convince her to kiss him so that he can truly be free of sin,” your explanation echoes through the room, and you notice Oscar turning red when you mention the word ‘kiss’. It was clear as day that the poor boy really liked the girl he’s currently hand in hand with but you don’t want him to feel nervous and uncomfortable about the thought of kissing her. “Now Oscar, you can kiss her on the cheek and that’s fine. Shaniqua, say it with more emotion, okay? Everyone got it?” The response you received was a sputter of hums and nods. Before you could continue, Josh, who plays Lord Capulet and is sitting lazily on the handmade throne, speaks up much to your dismay, “Why is it so important that we put so much effort into this. It’s not like anyone is going to come.” The kids around him began agreeing with his statement, and it was honestly completely expected of him but it was the truth. No one attends the drama club’s annual play. As you're trying to calm everyone down, your phone buzzes on the table in front of you. It’s a text from Bruce, asking if you could come over tonight, phrasing it like he’s a schoolboy sneaking from his parents to meet with a girl late at night. Then, like an epiphany you have an idea although there’s an eighty percent chance it wouldn’t go through. Nevertheless, you turn to the rest of the students with a hint of a smile on your lips. “I might have just the idea to solve that.”

-

A brief span seemed like an eternity when sleep doesn’t come easy to you. Tonight was a different case; thoughts were completely clear and concise. In much need of sleep, you steal the chance to savour in this clarity and serenity for as long as you could. To feel his warmth, arm gently resting on your abdomen and the occasional whiff of his deodorant from his ebony shirt you’re dressed in. If this was what bliss feels like, you never want it to go away. Your eyes grow heavy, flickering into darkness due to exhaustion from a long day of rehearsals. At once, you’re struck with the reminder of the idea you had this afternoon. It is more of a favour, involving none other than Bruce. There’s a tinge of guilt whenever favours are involved because you never liked asking for help. You were furiously independent and responsible, relying on others was out of the question. Yet, Bruce has always seemed to find a way to weave himself in your mistakes and problems, constantly there to help out. You have to remind yourself this isn’t about you. It’s for the kids. Special guest, Bruce Wayne, playboy and billionaire. Sounds awesome.

As your consciousness begins ebbing away, you feel Bruce shift from beside you, grasp tightening upon your waist. Before your dazed mind could even fully process that he was in the midst of a nightmare, his eyes are wide open, heart-pounding and it seizes him up instantly. With deep breaths, he closed his eyes once more, unable to shake the feeling of dread that rattles in him. Then, a sudden cold touch to his arm—he jumps and snaps his head to look over his shoulder.

It’s you, still laid in bed with a prominent frown upon your brows. Your hand squeezes his forearm and all he feels is instant relief. His heart still pounds, not in fear but with affection. “Are you okay?” you drawled as you watch his lingering hand, fingers weaved between the strands of hair. The silver ones glint under the low light, contrasting the deep brown ones. You notice how his hair had grown along with his five o’clock shadow becomes more evident by the days. His face away from you, finally nodding in response to your question. “Yeah, just... a bad dream. His voice is subdued as he shifts under the sheets, head leaning against the headboard. Despite your weakened state, you bring yourself to sit up, twisting your body to face him properly. "You wanna talk about it?” you say, patting his shoulder lightly in a comforting manner. You watch him rub his eyes, exhale tightly and shake his head. “No. Anything but that.”

His response comes out almost harsh but Bruce doesn’t mean for it to be perceived in that way. His dream was the usual, the normal ones he’s used to by now but in times of stress overwork, they have started to become more intense and violent. This time it involved you, for the first time, and he watched you vividly get shot in the forehead—trails of his memory as Batman when he encountered you at the burger restaurant with the muzzle of a gun inches away from you. It haunts him to think that if the circumstances were different if you hadn’t texted him those dreaded four words, you might be dead.

He certainly is not telling you about the dream. Never in a million years.

Bruce turns to you and you’re still staring at him, worry carved deep in your furrowed brows. Change of topic was merely necessary at this point. “So, how has school been? The kids still mean to you?” Classic Bruce, always sweeping his problems under the antique Persian rug. You don’t blame him because you wouldn’t know better.

It was your turn to sigh at the mention of school but since tonight’s pillow talk is heading towards your job as an English teacher at GHS, you might as well use the opportunity to pitch in your plan. “Still mean, but the drama club kids are really great,” You thumb the edge of the blanket, unable to hide your growing smile. “Speaking of which, the annual play is next Friday and they have been rehearsing all week but,” you paused as you watched his right brow gradually lift. “No one comes for it. Like, no one and I hate to see all their efforts just thrown out the window like that—”

“So, you want me to go for it.”

You blinked, wondering if your explanations were too obvious of its underlying intent or Bruce could just read you like an open book. You won’t be surprised if it’s the latter.

“If it’s no biggie. You don’t have to because I know you’re very busy but I don’t want the special guest to end up being the Big Belly Burger mascot.” Your smile widens and Bruce chuckles. Hell, it’s probably past midnight and you’re still able to find ways to be terribly funny. Literally terrible. After a beat of silence, he clears his throat. “I’ll clear my schedule.” It didn’t need much anticipation or thought because despite everything going on in his life, he knows he’ll do just about anything for you. You’re practically beaming at him and he finally sees it’s all worth it in the end. “Thank you, Bruce.” Your voice is sweet, and it makes his heart swell ever so slightly.

He sometimes wishes the two of you weren’t trapped in this loophole of unsaid confessions and hidden strong emotions for the other.

It almost comes naturally when he leans to you and presses a swift kiss to your forehead. Instead, it’s contradicting everything the two of you consider normal. He isn’t thinking straight and now your smile has disappeared, mouth agape and eyes very wide. Your brain stops.

Uh, what the hell just happened?

It hits him like a punch to the gut and the growing awkward silence is deafening. Yet, he doesn’t apologise because if he does, it doesn’t mean anything when in reality, it means so much more than just an accidental gesture. You don’t mention anything because you don’t objectify his actions. Kissing Bruce was fine when there are no strings attached but a peck to the forehead is way too affectionate for the man.

Before the both of you begin to overthink the events of a few moments ago, Bruce’s rational conscience kicks in and he clears his throat. “Get some sleep. You had a long day today.” He pats you on the shoulder awkwardly and you hum, shifting your head to lay back on the pillow. “Yesterday.” you correct him as it’s well past midnight. He chuckles, now laying flat on his back as he stares at the ceiling. Silently, the two of you agree to forget whatever happened a minute ago and to just...sleep it off.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

[taikizetsu]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔍𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔩

I had a journal when I was 12, and I burnt it.

I am in 6th Grade, when I struggled to make friends due to countless reasons. First, I was a low-key bully; second, I had terrible communication skills; and third, I was arrogant and boisterous; the traits which my teachers at school found very annoying, I mean, any person would, right? Even the mischievous students in school who were infamous for their actions also didn’t like to be with me. People actually thought at that time that nothing ever affected me, yet the truth was, during that period, I was often confused as to why don’t people like me? Was it because I’m unattractive? Or was it because I’m too open and loud? I remember speaking with my siblings deeply about how I genuinely want to be quiet and private because I can’t take the feeling of being labeled as the “chaotic” one anymore. But all my efforts had been in vain as I really couldn’t control myself.

I was honestly getting really frustrated; imagine being a 12 year old with no friends, and being hated by every person you know. I could say that I was a cheerful kid, I did not care about what other people say, but experiencing negative energy from people, almost everyday, really took a toll on me.

I was on my way home one day when I saw something that caught my attention. It was a book entitled, “The Diary of a Wimpy Kid”. The book was in a terrible condition almost as if it was on the verge of disintegrating. I took it home with me, and I started to read it. Reading the book made me ponder and realize that the main character of the story is very much like me, a teenage boy who wanted to feel loved and secretly yearned for people’s validation. This was when I had an epiphany, which led me to make my own journal at that time.

I remember writing down all the people I hated, and the person who stood out the most was my 6th grade  classmate, Charles. He was the main reason why I wanted to make a journal. It made me feel like my journal granted me the permission to talk ill about him. Why do I hate him so? It’s because Charles was the biggest bully in our class. He would always humiliate and ridicule me in front of the crowd. A lot of people also disliked him, but because of his dominant personality, there were more who were afraid of him. This allowed him to gain connections and accomplices. Unlike myself who had none, since even the notorious students at school disliked me. Life is unfair, huh?

It was sudden, but news about me having a journal started circulating in class. A lot of my classmates were getting curious about what was written inside it. I would always tell them that it had nothing related to do with them, when in fact, it was all about them; how each one of them made me feel the smallest.

I was becoming dependent on my journal, it came to the point where I would write even the slightest details or shift of events. My journal became my coping mechanism that hindered me from talking to anyone, not even to my own family. I started to realize how it was becoming a toxic habit, but still, I couldn’t stop. My journal was the only thing who assured me that it was okay to be vulnerable.

Then in a random day, something weird happened. Charles suddenly asked me out of the blue if I could hang with him. And through that encounter, we got to know and understand each other better. At first, we would only meet a few times a week; then without us realizing, we were already hanging out every single day. Truthfully, I was unsure of him at first because I know his caliber. But one day, after the school year has ended, he told me to come with him. We went to the university field, and we talked there for a while. He told me in the most serious tone how he always felt like most of his friends were only choosing to remain friends with him because they were afraid of him. He then added how he eventually considered me as a real friend, but not just a regular friend, he told me that I was his best friend. I realized at that moment that we’re the same. We never allow people to enter and know us too well and so, we remain unheard. But that day, we have finally been listened to.

However when he told me this, my guilt got the best of me, which was why I told him about everything. I confessed how I disliked him because of everything that he did to me. I also told him about the journal. I remember him getting pissed and hurt upon discovering everything, but he couldn’t blame me as he knows quite well how he has treated the people around him poorly, including me. But the notion didn’t stop us from becoming friends. It actually strengthened our bond more as we were no longer keeping secrets from each other.

Graduation day arrived in a snap, and that was when he told me that he will be leaving the country to study abroad. I didn’t know how to react; I knew I was going to miss him, but there was still that little piece of me who was kind of glad that he would be away from me. Not because I still hated him, but rather, I think we would grow better if we would stride our journey in separate ways. We both said our goodbyes after the ceremony and once I returned home, I’ve decided to burn my journal. I think it was time to let the past go, it’s better to move on and focus on my future ahead.

Years have passed since our graduation when I got a call from Charles. We got in touch with each other and he told me everything that he had been up to nowadays. He even admitted how he wished to have spent more time with me back then. Charles proudly tells me that he still considers me as his best friend, despite being far away from him. Although, I can’t say the same to him, since I really don’t consider anyone as my best friend to begin with. But Charles would always be one of my most treasured friends.

[peralta-guaranteed]

Romantic epiphanies are dope

At what point, though, had she decided that it was Jake of all people who would disrupt her calendar so completely, while also fulfilling the dreams she didn’t dare write down on it?

After all, if 11-year-old Amy had been asked to create a binder on her future husband - Jake would have not even been mentioned in the footnotes. If she could’ve wished for a partner back then, she definitely wouldn’t have specified that he had to be dorky and clumsy, constantly making bad jokes, living on a diet that would send any other person to the hospital for malnutrition, obsessed with action movies and cop heroics, spending his free time and money on the most useless things anyone could think of, and pranking and bothering her to his heart’s content.

-*-*-*-

On the evening of their engagement, Amy wonders about her own romantic epiphanies and what made her decide that Jake was the person she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

Read it on AO3

“What about you?”

The scene at Shaw’s bar had settled down a bit after the united ring of the squad had broken down into their own little groups as they always did. Gina was busy admiring Terry’s biceps from a corner booth, phone in hand as always, while he played a game of darts with Jake, who was shooting glances over to Amy every few seconds as if they had been apart for months again instead of just a few minutes. Charles was extolling the virtues of some new restaurant to Captain Holt, who definitely looked like he was preparing to leave ever since he’d stepped foot into the bar. Hitchcock and Scully were… well, somewhere, either asleep or eating, probably.

And Rosa was sliding onto the barstool next to Amy, a cocktail glass - Moscow Mule, her favourite, Amy had learned after literally a year of sleuthing - in her hand and a curious glint in her eye that didn’t quite fit the usually stoic face.

“Hmm~?” Amy gave her a quizzical look - she was not yet anywhere on her scale of drunkenness, still holding the beer she’d used to cheer during today’s round of toasts. She didn’t  want to get drunk tonight - she wanted to remember it all, forever. The little diamonds of her wonderful new ring were shining just perfectly against the dark brown bottle.

“What about you, Santiago. When was your romantic epiphany? Knowing that you’ll say yes if he asks?” Rosa raised an eyebrow and schooled a more appropriate, serious look on her face. “Because let’s be honest, as sweet as Jake is, his’ was pretty lame. You do cross word puzzles like, every night.”

“Oh, I see.” Amy gave the label on her beer a good scratching, peeling off the edges slightly. “I guess-” she started, but nothing else came.

While Rosa usually enjoyed drinking in silence far more than anything, right now she was on the level of inebriated where she would actually let loose enough to, ugh,  chat . And she wanted to chat with Amy, of all people. Well, she supposed, maybe that wasn’t quite so strange, considering she was one of her best friends. Actually, her best friend. Girl-wise, next to Jake. It was still a struggle to admit to herself that these two absolute dorks were far more than just co-workers to her, sometimes even more than just simple friends.

But Amy was still silent, staring at her drink as if it held the answer to everything (which it definitely didn’t if it turned her into Spacey Amy on drink 1).

“It’s fine if you don't have one, you know. S’not always like the movies.”

“No no, it’s just- it’s kinda-” The beer’s label was peeling some more, and the bottle was almost empty after another sip.

It was just kinda… the fact that Amy had always been split down two very different sides concerning marriage.

On the one hand, it had never really occurred to her. Her life plan, hanging proudly over her bed while she was living alone, now replaced by a movie poster of Jake’s that was luckily not Die Hard and the plan relegated to her little office corner, made no mention of it. She had plans for her career - many of them - and actually a few goals for her private life as well, to maintain a healthy work-life-balance as one should. But marriage? There had never been a date set on her wall for that. It was too risky, she’d reasoned even as a teen while drawing up her first plan. Unpredictable, since it involved a whole other person, and relationships couldn’t be planned and dated down to the day, which she hated to think about, and she wouldn’t have much time to date anyway if she was gearing up to be the youngest female Captain in NYPD history. And, if she was completely honest, it was sometimes too scary to think about as well - she knew she was a difficult person to be around, in some ways. Definitely difficult to handle as a romantic partner. What if she couldn't find a man willing to put in that work? And then see the dates on her calendar pass by, alone, or crying from heartbreak? No, marriage was not on her life plan at all, she’d decided at the ripe age of eleven in her pink and off-white bedroom while writing down all the big moments of her life to come.

On the other hand, it had always been an obvious yes. Having a husband,  having a family - she could imagine nothing else, growing up with all her siblings, with her parents still being obviously in love with each other after all these years, with her tias and tios and abuelas and abuelos all around her. What would life even be like without that kind of family? Without people over at her place every holiday, without someone trusted by her side tag-teaming all the tasks and duties of everyday life, without that little group of people that she knew would always be there, would always be loving and caring for her the way she loved and cared for them. It was unimaginable. She’d seen the endlessly romantic scenes in films and read about them in her books, and while she was not easily impressed or swayed even as a teenager, she was definitely... expecting some of that in her own life. She wanted the romantic moments, the flashbacks to tell her children and grandchildren about, the beautiful proposal, the perfectly-planned wedding, the photo album of years and years together, of all the milestones a couple could have. Yes, marriage was definitely on her life plan, tucked into the back of her mind and ever present.

At what point, though, had she decided that it was  Jake  of all people who would disrupt her calendar so completely, while also fulfilling the dreams she didn’t dare write down on it?

After all, if 11-year-old Amy had been asked to create a binder on her future husband - Jake would have not even been mentioned in the footnotes. If she could’ve wished for a partner back then, she definitely wouldn’t have specified that he had to be dorky and clumsy, constantly making bad jokes, living on a diet that would send any other person to the hospital for malnutrition, obsessed with action movies and cop heroics, spending his free time and money on the most useless things anyone could think of, and pranking and bothering her to his heart’s content.

Then again, that wasn’t Jake anymore - maybe it had been during their first few years as only co-workers, but he was constantly changing, growing up step by step, maybe a bit later than others, but definitely growing. He was always willing to learn, as much as he’d moan about it all. He was willing to get better, spurned on by competition, maybe, or by the desire to be the best -anything- he could be, not just best detective, but he was willing no matter the reason.

And then again, that wasn’t all that Jake had really been, ever - maybe on the outside, to the unknown onlooker, but not to those who really spent time with him. As careless as he was with his own health, he was always caring for everyone else in his own subtle and not so subtle ways. As ridiculous as his jokes and pranks were, he also knew exactly when they were not appropriate anymore, and he could lend a hand or a sympathetic shoulder just as seriously as he could stand guard for you if you needed a moment alone in the evidence lock-up. As much as he would boast about himself and throw jabs at everyone else, he would also turn into the ultimate hype-man for everyone on the squad at the mere mention of one of them failing or stumbling.

And if Amy had been given the chance to write a wishlist for the man she wanted to spend her life with at any point of her planning - that kindness, compassion and support would’ve definitely been on the top of it.

She realised she still hadn’t answered Rosa. Luckily, Diaz was exactly the kind of person who knew how to hold onto a weighted silence and give her all the time she needed without interrupting her. She simply sipped her heavy-on-the-vodka-please drink and waited.

“I don’t think I-” Amy started up again, realising that her beer bottle was now completely label-less, a small heap of paper on the bar counter next to her. “I don’t think it was one big moment, to be honest. I think it was a lot of little ones.”

“Like what, buying folders together to get his desk straightened out? The moment when he actually used a five-syllable-word right? The day he finally stopped mixing gummy bears with red vines and calling it ‘sugar bolognese’?”

“I know you’re making fun of it, but those were all milestones in their own way, okay?” Amy shot Rosa a little glare, which proved to be extremely ineffective against the other Latina’s taunting grin.

“But they weren’t the moments?” Rosa continued to poke her, turning her voice several octaves higher for the last words. “Where Jake turned into the knight in shining armour baby-Amy definitely used to draw into her diary?”

No, they weren’t. Sure, Amy was proud of Jake for all of them. But they weren’t the moments where she’d realised that this was it, that this person was  her person. That there would never be anyone who loved her the way he did, and that she could never feel for anyone else what she felt for him.

She tried to think of something romantic, something big to throw back into Rosa’s face, make her stop the jokes and understand. Make her see that it wasn’t about the grand gestures or the perfect match that made Jake her one and only, as cheesy as that sounded.

They’d had many big moments, that was for sure.

When he went in front of the whole precinct here at Shaw’s to cryptically talk about how much just six days with her meant to him. When she knocked on his door to say  screw light and breezy and his eyes lit up as if she’d just taken the weight of the world off of his shoulders. When he sat at the back of an ambulance, a bullet wound from her in his leg and the memory of Figgis’ gun still on his temple, and none of that seemed to matter because they were back in sync and he’d get to finally go back home with her. When he forfeited a bet, lost a collar and gave up his entire apartment for her happiness. When she was knee-deep in files at the precinct long after her working hours and her phone rang, an unknown number on the screen, and when she picked it up she heard his voice so far away and metallic and realised that he must’ve broken several rules and put himself into danger just to get a phone into prison to talk to her. When he spun an entire Halloween heist around today to get her to win it, all so he could give her that soft scared smile as she turned and saw him down on one knee.

Rosa knew about all of these. She’d witnessed them, or heard her drunkenly ramble about them during their weekly get-togethers. And they were all big moments, good moments, special moments she would re-tell to everyone who wanted to hear about her and Jake and their story.

But they weren’t all of it. They were the big plot points in their shared book of life, that was for sure. But they weren’t the kind of quotes she’d underline, the ones she’d write little notes into the margins for. The ones that made her love this book more than any other story she’d ever read.

Yet when she thought about those definitely underlined quotes that came up in her mind now, they all seemed so… trivial, compared to what you’d expect about romantic epiphanies.

Like the time she picked him up at the airport coming back from prison, when he leant back in his seat and took a deep, almost inappropriate sniff of her stupid little pinetree air freshener, telling her how unreal it seemed that someone could miss a smell like that, but that he’d longed for it for weeks now. That it wasn’t pinetree to him anymore, it was the comfort of Amy’s car, and their morning drive to the precinct when he was too tired to get into his Mustang, and Amy picking him up after a few hours too long working on a case, all wrapped up in one scent that he never realised he could miss. He was sniffing an air freshener, with his uneven beard scratching all over it, red eyes from an early flight and maybe a few tears they’d shed at the pick up area, and Amy was sure her heart could never ache as much for anyone else as it did for the tired man sitting in her passenger seat.

Or the time she’d come home from work on his first day off after they’d moved in together, expecting to see her prim and proper apartment turned into a slouchfest the way his old place had been. Only to realise that nothing had changed - safe for the take out containers next to the sink, which had enough left in it that they could share it for dinner. Only to realise that he had actually done all of the laundry,  and  folded all her socks and underwear exactly right,  and  even folded the fitted sheets properly,  and put it all into the closet in the system she’d developed but never actually written down, because it came to her like second nature. Only to realise that meant that he’d watched her, every time she’d done it, to learn it all perfectly so he could do it for her. And she looked at him as he jumped up from the couch to heat the take out for her as she changed out of her work clothes, and realised that she never wanted to share her home with anyone else.

Or the time he’d first been invited to the big Santiago summer get together, and she’d stressed over it just as much he did, making information binders on her family and their quirks and their habits and what he could say and what he should absolutely not say. But when the party finally came, and he’d squeezed her hand so nervously stepping into the living room, he managed to remember every single brother’s, sister-in-law’s, niece’s and nephew’s name, made extra time for her abuela Claudia’s stories and waited for her tia Maria to translate everything someone yelled in Spanish for him, sat down at exactly the place on the table that would’ve secretly been reserved for him as a test, and slipped into dinner conversations and children’s games down at the lake as if he’d always been there, always been a part of her family. She watched him running from her nephews’ water guns and secretly rolling his eyes at her while talking to her brother David and offering his arm to her abuela Sofia on a walk the way he would usually offer it to her, and she realised that it fit so well because he should have always been there, that this spot in her family had always waited for him.

Or the time she’d started her period while staying over at his place for the first time ever, waking up to stained sheets and cramps and the rushing feeling of pure embarrassment, telling him she was so, so sorry and would buy him new sheets and probably better get home so she could deal with this and not bother him for the rest of the weekend despite the plans they’d made. And he’d simply gotten out of bed, rummaged through a cabinet in his bathroom and returned with painkillers, a hot water bottle, and a box of pads and tampons he’d bought after an awkward day at the academy when Rosa had lectured him about always being prepared for anything his fellow detectives could need. And he’d parked her on the sofa after she’d changed into one of his boxers, and the washing machine was already cleaning the sheets and her underwear, and he said  be right back and returned from the bodega on the corner with ice cream and salt & vinegar chips and her favourite chocolate. And she looked at him as he sat down on the other side of the couch, remote already in hand to see what they could binge-watch this weekend, acting as if nothing was wrong and she hadn’t just completely inconvenienced him and weirded him out with her problems, and she realised that she hadn’t. That they’d been together barely a month and a half, and he was already so comfortable having her around that he was prepared for anything. That she could lay it all on him, without the fear of being embarrassed or rebuked as she had been with any other man in her life before him.

Or the time she cancelled what was meant to be their second date ever (after that awkward, chaotic, yet happy-ending first one) because she’d gotten sick. When he showed up that evening at her door, she’d been worried he hadn’t gotten her text (she was too stuffed up to speak properly on the phone, she’d realised when calling in sick to work). But he was wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants instead of a date outfit, and carried a grocery store bag and a drug store bag, and then he made her take a bath with one of those cold-remedy bath salt sachets he’d found, and cooked her his mom’s sickly-soup (with store-bought matzoh balls, he had to admit, he never quite got those right), and let her pick any movie she wanted to watch while they ate their soup wrapped up under one blanket so she could steal all of his body heat. He’d been to her place as her boyfriend only twice before, but she realised as she snuggled into his arms under the blanket and blew her nose into one of the extra-soft tissues he’d bought that she’d felt so wrong being sick and alone at her home, that she’d subconsciously hoped he could be there to rub the vapo-rub on her back before she went to sleep that night, and that nothing felt more right than him already whistling in the kitchen when she woke up feeling slightly better the next morning.

They were all these little moments, these facets of life that barely even mattered to outsiders, that happened and re-happened several times a year. But they did matter, and they came into her mind every time her mom warned her on the phone not to be ‘too hasty’, every time her non-work friends asked her if she was really sure she was talking about ‘Peralta, the guy you used to moan about so much’, every time someone made a joke to Jake and her about her being ‘above his pay-grade’ or them being ‘an odd couple if they ever saw one’. It was these little moments that mattered so much more to her than any grand romantic gesture could, and that manifested in her mind that Jake was it, and always had been.

The bottle of beer in her hand was still label-less, but she noticed that it was also empty. She didn’t know when she’d transitioned into Spacey Amy, but looking up at Rosa’s face, seeing Gina next to her who’d apparently walked up at some point, she realised that she’d been talking, not thinking all of this.

“Daaaamn, girl.” Gina replied, but her voice was quiet, not even close to the usual mocking tone she’d take on for Amy. Rosa next to her was silent, blinking hard, and if she didn’t know her any better Amy would’ve almost believed she was fighting back a few tears. Which was ridiculous, because this was Rosa, and she’d only had six drinks, which brought her barely close to the emotional level she needed to even think about crying. Rosa’s drunk-scale started a lot later than Amy’s did.

Amy swept away a little tear from her own cheek while grinning awkwardly down at her bottle.

“Good thing that was one drink Spacey Amy and not two drink Loud Amy, huh?” She tried to joke, but Rosa only shook her head.

“Santiago, shit like that, you should shout from the fucking rooftops. Or at least into your fiancé’s stupid grinning face. Damn, I’m genuinely so happy for you two dorks, you’re so perfect. Don’t ever quote me on that, though.” Rosa had at least reached the swearing stage of drunkenness, the one where she’d wrap genuine emotion in as many rude words as possible to make it seem like she still didn’t care as much as she did.

Amy looked over at Jake and caught him looking away just as quickly. He’d been watching her again. He often did when he thought she wouldn’t notice, she’d realised that early on in their relationship. They’d be watching a movie, or hunched over case files, or simply hanging out at her kitchen counter nibbling on take away leftovers and discussing their day, and she’d look up and notice him almost flinching away. On the rare occasions that she woke up after him - once in a blue moon, when the night had been far longer than she’d planned, like tomorrow, probably - she would roll to the side and meet with his eyes, half-closed and shining and definitely, completely focussed on nothing but her.

It was almost unsettling to be the centre of someone’s attention like that, but in a good way. In a way that made her heart skip a beat, because she’d never expected to be anyone’s point of focus like this, ever.

Maybe, besides all the little moments and epiphanies, that had actually been the point of no return for her, love-wise - when she realised just what she was to Jake. Everything, he’d told her not just once during his more romantic moments, whispering in her ear and pressing a kiss to her temple.  You’re everything to me, Ames, and sometimes I think you’re even a bit more than that.  

“Hey.” She heard his voice next to her as he walked up from the long-forgotten dart board, where Gina was quick to jump in and challenge Terry to another round to see him flex his shoulders.

“Hey yourself.” She grinned back, one drink Amy still on the clock.

“Thought I should come over here to tell you something really important.”

“Oh, sure.” The serious tone in his voice made her steel herself almost as a reflex. “What is it?”

“I realised I’m absolutely, crazy in love with you. Is that okay?”

And there was this grin, this stupid wide grin she knew so well, that always looked a bit different when it was directed towards her than anyone else. Amy couldn’t help but laugh as she softly punched his arm.

“Yeah, you know.” She looked at the ring on her finger as she stroked over the space she’d only just hit. “I think that’s pretty okay.”

He leant down for a kiss, and they could both hear a gagging sound from the side.

“Knock it off, Diaz.” Jake shot Rosa a fake-angry look. “You’re not allowed to make fun of us today.”

“Alright, alright. I don’t need to watch it, though.” Rosa stood up from her bar stool, only to punch Jake into the other arm, definitely stronger than Amy just had. He grinned at her nonetheless, knowing full well that was as close and emotional as a tight hug would be from his old friend.

“Better take your fiancée home before she turns into two drink Amy, though. Think you’ve got some stuff to say that shouldn’t be heard from the whole bar.” She grinned again before walking off to beat both Gina and Terry at darts.

Jake followed her with his eyes before smiling back at Amy.

“My fiancée.” He repeated, and she could see how strange the word still felt in his mouth, strange and new and absolutely joyful.

“Your future wife.” She smiled back, and it didn’t sound strange at all. It sounded perfectly right. Because it had always, always been.

[fabrowrites]

Oh, can I be your Bibilly Hills?

For Lloyd’s very late birthday! also on ao3 and ffn.net.

----------

Kai stands at the entrance to the cafeteria.  The bustle in the room is loud with kids meeting up with their friends, the snapping open of lunchboxes, and chairs and tables being squeaked across the floor.

Kai exhales.  He hikes his backpack higher onto his back.  Then he squares his shoulders and walks over to the table in the far corner of the room where only one person sits, despite the overcrowding at all the rest of the tables.

Lloyd Garmadon’s eyes lift as Kai drops into the seat across from him, only to return to his plate again just as quickly.  One by one, the rest of their secret ninja crew arrive.  They send glances at each other, and at Lloyd, who has started to eat his food with laser-like focus.  

It’s only been a week since Master Wu gathered them all together for a “very important meeting”.  It’s only been a week since he told them they were ready to take the next step in their team-building.  It’s only been a week since their eternally-masked leader took off his hood, only to reveal the son of Ninjago City’s very own warlord hiding beneath it.

Needless to say, conversation is stilted.  

A hand comes down on the table with a resounding smack.  Chen, captain of the cheer team, leans over their table.  “Hey, look, everyone,” he says mockingly.  “Garmadork has a dork squad now.”  He gives their table an obvious once-over, grin widening.  “Aw, why are you sitting with him?  Are your daddies super-villains too?”

“Hi, Chen,” Lloyd says.  “Nice insult.  Much more original than your last one- what was it?  The Bad Dad Lad?”

Chen’s face twists up in a sneer.  His hand snakes out and smacks Lloyd’s water bottle over, instantly flooding his lunch.  “Oops,” he says, sounding not at all sorry.  “I didn’t see that there!  Hope that wasn’t all you had.”

He saunters off, looking inordinately pleased with himself.  Lloyd, on the other hand, stares for several long seconds at his ruined lunch.  Kai expects him to look furious, or at the very least, upset, but there’s only this sad sort of look on his face.  Like he’d been expecting it to happen.  It’s so awful to look at that something in Kai snaps.  

“Here, have some of mine,” he says, shoving his bento forward.  “I always take too much rice anyways.”

Nya gives him a near-imperceptible nod from across the table; she’s thinking the same thing.  God, Kai loves his sister so much.  “This is true,” she says.  “The day Kai doesn’t bring home leftovers is the day he’s been replaced by his evil clone.”

Kai opens his mouth, intending to say just what he thought of that, when a quiet noise brings him back to the situation at hand.  Lloyd looks at them both, mouth parting slightly.  “Are you sure?” he asks, but he can’t disguise the way he’s already eying the bento up.

“Take it,” Kai insists. “It’s not doing me any good sitting here.”

Kai can see Lloyd’s hesitation wavering.  A moment later, the other boy accepts it with a quiet, “thank you”.  

The other ninja are watching.  Kai catches their eyes and mouths ‘later’ above Lloyd’s head.  After lunch wraps up, and Lloyd excuses himself to use the restroom, they all gather near the window.

“What happened at lunch-” Kai says without preamble- “it can’t happen again.”  It’s not like he was expecting them to protest, but something warms in his chest at how intensely they immediately nod.  They must look like a pack of bobbleheads to anyone passing by.

“He was just so sad,” Nya says.  “It makes me want to punch something.  Preferably Chen’s face.”

Jay backs a step away from her, laughing that nervous laugh of his.  Cole hums.  His ever-present headphones are hanging around his neck, which is how Kai knows just how seriously he’s taking it.  Headphone removal: truly the highest form of respect in the modern age.  “We should do something for him,” he says.

“Normal human teenager things?” asks Zane.

“Exactly!” says Kai.  “He’s an only child!  I bet he’s never had a blanket fort before!”

“We can make it at his house so he can keep it up longer,” Cole says.  “I’ve dropped off homework for him before.  I still have his address in my phone.”

“I’ll take him out after school to the comic book shop so you guys have more time,” Jay offers.  He twists his hands in his ever-present orange scarf.  

“And we’ll get the snacks,” Nya finishes.  She sticks her hand out.  The rest of them do too, and then there’s a period of silence where they look at each other awkwardly.  Wow, they really are lost without Lloyd.

Cole sighs.  “Ninja go,” he says.

“Ninja go!” Kai says.  The game is afoot.  

------------

The walk to the comic books shop is literally the definition of awkward silence.  

Jay and Lloyd walk three feet apart on the sidewalk.  Their eyes meet fleetingly across the way before skittering away.  People who pass them stare, and Jay ducks his head and meeps at each hateful glare sent his way.

“You don’t have to do this,” Lloyd mumbles.

Jay jumps.  “Huh?”  

Lloyd shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket.  “I said,” he says a bit louder, “you don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?” Jay says nervously.  He wrings his hands in his scarf.  “I’m not doing anything?”

Lloyd looks pointedly at his hands.  He huffs, dipping his head so his bangs cover his eyes,  “Make yourself be nice to me, or whatever it is that you and the rest of them are trying to do.  I have eyes, Jay,” he says, when Jay opens his mouth to protest.  He glances up at him through his curtain of hair, and something in his face softens.  “It’s okay.  I’m used to it.”

Jay doesn’t know what to say to that.  But something comes over him, and before he can talk himself out of it he’s bridging the gap to walk right beside Lloyd.  Lloyd looks up sharply.  

“We want to be nice to you,” he says softly.  “You’re part of our team, aren’t you?”

Lloyd snorts.  “Some might go as far to call me the leader,” he says, but there’s this quiet, sort of pleased look on his face.  It’s enough for Jay to stick by his side, even as they move towards the busier part of the city and the glares and angry whispers increase.  

It takes them about fifteen minutes to get to the comic book shop.  Jay swings the door open, inhaling that paper-ink-and-smelly-teenager scent he’s become intimately familiar with.  Lloyd follows more hesitantly, blinking at the racks upon racks of books, merch, and everything in between.  His eyes widen when they land on the display case right in front of them.  

“No way!” he says, springing forward.  “I didn’t know this came out!”

“What?” asks Jay, jumping sideways to see.  “Is that the new edition of Starfarer?  Wait, you like Starfarer too?”

Lloyd is already flipping through the chapter, eyes scanning the pages.  “It was my favorite as a kid!” he says excitedly.  ‘I didn’t know they were still making it.  The library only has through chapter sixteen.”

“I think there’s forty-two now,” Jay offers.  Lloyd gives him a look that’s halfway between horrified and delighted.  Jay can’t help but grin back.  He goes to say something else, but a sharp exhale nearby interrupts their moment.  

Two men are standing across the room, muttering and glaring alternatively at them.  No, at Lloyd.  One scowls at them and leaves, heading towards the front desk.

“We should go,” Lloyd says.  With great reluctance, he sets the comic back down and pats it into place.  “I don’t want you getting in trouble for me.”

It’s like that one tumblr post- and Jay will deny to the end that he has a tumblr- that’s like: ‘if somebody is more uncomfortable than me I am suddenly able to Do The Thing’.  “No, we just got here,” he says.  “We can’t leave yet.”

Lloyd looks obviously torn.  Jay sees the manager heading their way and makes the decision for him. Seizing his hand, he pulls Lloyd deeper into the store.  They speed-walk through the isles, ending up near the back.  

“They shouldn’t do that to you,” he says.  

Lloyd shrugs, eyes cast off to one side.  “It’s not like it’s anything new.”  

“Still,” Jay says, feeling his ears heat up.  The adrenaline of the moment has worn off, and now he’s feeling the embarrassment from his spontaneity.  “It’s not cool.”

Lloyd stares at him for several long seconds.  Jay squirms.  Lloyd looks like he wants to say something, but then his eyes slide past Jay and land on something behind him.

Lloyd’s entire face lights up.  “I thought they discontinued this years ago!”  He starts pawing through the container, making little mumbling comments and noises underneath his breath.  

Jay takes out his phone and surreptitiously sends a text to the group.  

bluejay: okay we are keeping him!!!

kaiguy: was that ever even an option?

-------------

The woman who opens the door for Cole and Zane looks… tired, for lack of a better way to put it.  Her hair is done up in a messy bun and there are dark circles under her eyes as she regards the pair of them warily.  

“Mrs. Garmadon?” asks Zane.

“Ms. Ito,” says the woman.  Her expression flattens the longer they stay silent.  “Look, if you’re looking to hassle me or Lloyd, it’s been a long day and-”

We’re some of Lloyd’s friends from school,” Cole blurts out.  He freezes the moment the words leave his mouth- interrupting someone?   Idiot, Mom taught you better than this - but the words themselves don’t feel false in his mouth.  They feel right, an unshakable truth like the laws of gravitation and motion, steady as the earth beneath his feet. He spares a look at Zane and finds the other nodding his agreement.

Lloyd’s mom, however, looks like she’s been slapped in the face.  ‘Friends?” she echoes, almost like she doesn’t believe them.  Which, as Cole reflects, shouldn’t be that surprising.  He’s seen the bullying at school firsthand.  A wave of regret knocks into him for all the times he’s stayed silent and watched- not participating, just not stepping in.  Never again, he swears to himself.  

While Cole’s been having this epiphany, Zane’s been barreling on ahead without him.  “Lloyd was harassed this morning in school,” he says primly.  “We want to build a structure of blankets for him in your apartment.”

Zane, Cole thinks, internally slapping his palm against his forehead.  

But Lloyd’s mom looks so grateful that Cole feels suddenly sick.  This woman has two complete strangers standing on her doorstep, practically demanding to be let in so they can destroy her house with pillows and blankets and loud teenagers.  She shouldn’t look like they’ve just saved her dog from a house fire.

“It’s really nothing,” he grits out.  “We just wanted to do something for him.”

He’s staring at the load of blankets in his arms, so he doesn’t see Lloyd’s mom move.  Suddenly, there are hands taking the pile from him.  Her face appears in front of his.  “It’s not nothing,” she says softly.  She doesn’t elaborate, but neither of them need her to.  “Come on in.  I’ll show you where everything is.”

------------

“Vegetable or Sriracha?’

“Does he like spicy things?”

Kai looks down at the two bags of chips in his hands.  “Both,” he decides.  “Both is good.”

Both their phones go off at the same time: Kai’s the default BorgPhone ringtone he’s never figured out how to change, Nya’s the Wilhelm Scream.  Nya digs hers out first.  “It’s Jay.”

Kai juggles the chips with the rest of the snacks in his arms.

jaybird: were almost done here

jaybird: well be at his house in like 20

jaybird: r u guys done yet?

do it for the vinyl: 👌

frozane: 😁 🥰 😚 😋 🤗 😇 🙃 😆 🤣 😘 🤪 🤩

Kai pockets his phone.  “Guess that’s our cue to go.”

They pay quickly and rush over to Lloyd’s house, using the address Cole had texted them all earlier.  

Kai hands off his bags to Zane, switching his shoes.  “Let’s see what you’ve done!”  He catches sight of the fort from the corner of his eye and his jaw drops.  “Woah.”

“Right?” Cole smirks.  

Kai’s too focused on the mass of colors and fabric swallowing up the living room, otherwise he would pick a fight.  He crawls through the entrance, a sheet hanging loose between two cushions.  

The fort is nearly tall enough to stand up in.  Cole and Zane have slung sheets from the lamp to the couch to a coat rack, using tape, clips and pillows to secure the blankets down.  A music stand supports the entire thing in the center.  Kai didn’t know that Lloyd took music, though maybe he should have expected it because, hello, Asian?  It seems like not knowing is a depressingly common thread running through all that they’ve been learning.

Kai squares his shoulders.  Nope.  Now’s not the time for beating himself up.  He’s just gonna do better, be better, from here on out.  

“Bring the snacks in already!” he hollers, sticking his head out the hole.  “Lloyd’s gonna be here any minute!”

Cole raises his eyebrow judgmentally, even as he passes him the bags of chips.  Nya has no such restraint and throws dried squid at his face.  

“Lloyd just texted to say he’s on his way,” Lloyd’s mom tells them from the kitchen entrance.  Kai thinks her expression is a mix of fear and awe, which is always a good reaction to one of Kai’s ideas.  

Kai can hear them now, feet thudding softly on the wood of the hallway through the thin walls.  They’re laughing at something- presumably a meme on Jay’s phone.  The dork has thousands of them.  Someone bangs against the door and then it swings open.  

“Hey, Mom,” Lloyd says, and Kai doesn’t think he’s ever heard him this happy.  The blond is switching his shoes, completely unaware of the spectacle behind him.  “Sorry that I’m late, we lost track of-”

He turns around and freezes.

“Surprise!” Kai shouts.  Behind Lloyd, Jay starts cheering.  Nya salutes him from her position sprawled on the couch and Cole and Zane wave at him from beside the fort.  

Lloyd’s mouth drops open.  “What?” he splutters.  “Wait, what’s going on?  What is all this?”

“Can’t we do something nice for our bro just ‘cause we feel like it?”  Kai crawls out and goes to him, slinging his arm across his shoulders.  

“Guys,” Lloyd says.  

To Kai’s horror, his eyes are wet around the corners.  Shoot, did they mess up?  “Don’t cry!” he yelps, voice cracking embarrassingly at the end.  “We’ll pick it all up, don’t worry!”

“No, no,” Lloyd says hurriedly.  “You did this for me?” he asks, awe in his voice. He glances around the room.  “All of you?”

“Of course,” Zane says.  “You are our friend.”

“We realized we’ve been a little lacking in that department,” Nya chimes in.  “So here’s us, making up for it!  We’re nowhere near done yet either,” she warns.  “Constant vigilance!”

Lloyd discreetly wipes his eyes.  “Thanks,” he says.  “I love a good threatening in my own living room.”

And for a moment, they all stay put in their places, grinning widely from Lloyd to each other.  Lloyd’s mom smiles softly, unseen, from where she stands in the kitchen.  

Kai grins.  The moment breaks.  “Well, don’t just stand there.  C’mon!  You’ve got to see what Cole and Zane did inside.”

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and villains

Janus Anker: identity

To be a teenager is to learn more about yourself. But does it have to be all at once?

Please leave a comment on this one? I usually don't ask but I would really like feedback on this one.

Masterpost

Summer before freshmen year, Janus was a wreck.

He always kind of hated the way he looked. But lately there were days where he didn’t even like to look at the normal half of his body. When nothing in his closet felt comfortable. The first day of summer, he went over to the neighbor’s house to hang out with Virgil. He was having a bad day and needed his friend. “Janus. Good to see you my boy,” Virgil’s dad greeted as he opened the door. Janus forced a smile. “Hi uncle Lo. Is Virgil up yet?” he asked. “He’s in his room. You know the way,” uncle Logan told him kindly. Janus nodded and rushed up the stairs. He opened the door to Virgil’s bedroom and froze. Virgil was standing in front of his mirror a pen in his hand and his hoodie and t-shirt on the bed. He looked up and smiled at him. Why was his hair purple? And since when did he do his eyeshadow so immaculate? Did he paint his nails purple too? Was that lipstick? And why was there an intricate pattern running up his arm, over his shoulder and fading out at his chest? “What do you think? Looks pretty sick right?” he asked as he showed off his work. Janus wasn’t sure which part of Virgil’s drastically changed appearance he meant. But it looked very… very… God he could not be having a gay panic right now. Not with Virgil. He’d never had a crush before! He never cared for any of the girls in class. Not in the way Virgil sometimes expressed interest in them. Like Anna from their class. Virgil had had a small crush on her at the start of last year. Out of curiosity Janus had asked what it was like. To see if maybe he was crushing on someone without realizing it. Sadly Virgil’s explanation hadn’t brought an epiphany. Which made this even more confusing. If he was simply gay and crushing on Virgil this whole time, then he should have realized it then right? He’d known him all his life! He didn’t feel like this last week though. He forced himself to drop that train of thought. He wasn’t here for any of this. “Yeah. Looks good. Though I doubt uncle Lo will let you actually get a tattoo. Ever,” he said, trying to play it cool. Virgil chuckled and nodded as he tossed the pen on his desk and put on his shirt and hoodie. The latter was new. Black with purple patches. It looked hand made. In a good way. Janus couldn’t focus on it though. He was still reeling from the unexpected rush of feelings that had just been dumped on him.

Maybe it was just because Virgil had looked so different? Some sort of shock? That must be it. Right? Anyway it was mostly over now and he was back to feeling wrong in his own skin. “I know, but I wanted to try it out anyway. I’ll wash it off later. After I take a picture.” Virgil then studied Janus’ face. “One of those days?” he guessed. Janus nodded. He’d never been able to express to Virgil how it felt exactly. But his friend managed to make him feel better anyway. He’d help him relax by messing around with his hair or helping him pick something nice to wear. Or some general self-care stuff. “I’ve got just the thing. Sit down I’ll be right back.” Janus proceeded to throw himself face first on Virgil’s bed, doing his best not to think back to the fake tattoo he had drawn. Or not the part where it made him feel things anyway. Virgil was good at art. Good enough to make others envious, or make people try and get something from him. Janus felt his stomach twist in knots at the mere thought of it. Virgil was too kind to deny anyone if they’d ask. It would be very hard to keep him safe in high school though, when they weren’t guaranteed to be together for every class. Janus had been thinking a lot about ways he could protect them from bullies and fake friends. The best he could come up with was seem scarier and stick together. The coward was going to scare off the bullies. Janus was very aware of how ridiculous that sounded. He was going to try though. And then there was still the matter of Roman Castile. That pompous brat never stopped trying to get Virgil to trust him and steal him away. Janus still couldn’t figure out why he went through so much effort. Was it because he didn’t get told ‘no’ often? Was Virgil a challenge? Roman couldn’t possibly really know or appreciate the kind of person Virgil was. So what was the plan? “Get up. I can’t work my magic if you hide away like that,” Virgil instructed as he entered the room once again dropping something on the bed. Janus sighed and sat up. “Give me your hand. We’re doing make overs,” Virgil instructed as he got on the bed with him. Janus was about to protest, but Virgil had that look. There was no arguing. “Fine,” he sighed. Virgil took his hand and started doing his nails with a golden polish. “I bought this one for detailing,” he explained. Janus looked at Virgil’s hand and saw there were little stars in the purple polish. He couldn’t help a smile. It looked pretty. Virgil had started using make up the last few months. Just some dark smudges under his eyes and black polish on his nails to look extra edgy. Maybe the new look held the same intention? A high school upgrade? With a little detail to hint at a softer nature for those who looked close. “You’re in the mood for makeovers today,” he observed. Virgil chuckled. “I suppose,” he nodded as he blew over Janus’ nails, finishing of his right hand. “Next,” he instructed. Janus gave him his left hand, holding his right up so nothing could mess up the still wet paint. “What’s with all the shades of purple anyway?” he asked. “Just felt right,” Virgil muttered casually as he finished off Janus’ other hand. “There,” he stated satisfied as he let go. Janus shook both hands for a bit trying to get them dry. “We’ll find the look that feels right for you too. Just you wait,” Virgil assured him as he dug through the bag Janus had heard him put down earlier. “What are you planning?” he asked. “Relax, I’m not going to make you go home with a face full of make-up. We’re just trying something different okay?” Virgil assured him. Janus let out a sigh and nodded. He trusted him. “I wouldn’t go for a dark lipstick for you. It looks cool but it’s… Not something even I would want for an everyday look. And the goal is making you feel good not shock you,” he joked. Janus’ eyes fell to Virgil’s lips as he mentioned lipstick. The dark color made every movement stand out even more. They looked very kissable. And that brought Janus mind to a screeching halt. The image of kissing his best friend made him feel all sorts of ways. But not quite the way Virgil once described. He felt nervous and excited, and flustered. But not… Not love. He didn’t think of sweet nothings and dates and holding hands. Or he did, because part of him wanted to run those down to figure out if this was a crush. But none of that fit how he felt about Virgil. The thought of it was just weird to him. Virgil was movie nights and stupid jokes and teasing. But also kissing. Apparently. Suddenly he was yanked out of his thoughts by Virgil carefully taking hold of his face. For a second he thought Virgil’s mind had gone to the same place his had. But when his eyes shot up to V’s they were just amused. “Relax. And stop biting your lip. I haven’t even done anything and you’re already trying to ruin my masterpiece.” “Sorry,” Janus muttered. Relieved that Virgil had no clue what just happened. What was wrong with him? “It’s fine,” Virgil assured him as he started applying whatever color he’d decided on to Janus’ lips. It did not help with his crisis. And it was just a stellar crisis to have when the object of your attraction was literally holding your face and had his lips a breath away from yours. “There. Now, I’m going to need you to trust me for a sec here,” Virgil warned ominously. Clearly having fun. Janus couldn’t help a chuckle. Now that Virgil wasn’t so close anymore the attraction subsided to a not all consuming level and he could kind of enjoy the fact that Virgil was trying to make him feel like a movie star or whatever he was going for here. “Do I have a choice in the matter?” he asked dryly. Virgil chuckled. Janus thought back to how Virgil had said that Anna’s laugh made his heart skip, back when he liked her. But while the sound made Janus feel comfortable and happy, his heart did nothing special. He was just happy and relaxed because the sound was familiar and safe. “You have a point,” Virgil agreed. “Close your eyes for me.” Janus did as he was told. Virgil’s hand was on his face once more and he could feel his breath drift over him. The fact that he couldn’t see a thing as a brush drifted over his eyelids only intensified the new feelings. “Did you know the principle of our high school is childhood friends with uncle Thomas?” ‘Uncle’ Thomas was an old school friend of Uncle Logan. Janus had met him a few times over the years. He was a nice guy. If a bit high energy. “Really?” he asked a little surprised. “Yeah. Joan Stokes. They use they/them pronouns. According to uncle Thomas.” Janus couldn’t help the confused frown. “What do you mean?” he asked. “They’re non binary. They don’t identify as a man or a woman. Like they were born in a male body, but their gender is not male or female.” “People can do that?” Janus asked. “Just decide they aren’t what they are?” “That’s not it. Uncle Thomas says that Mx. Stokes… Mx. Is the neutral version of Mr. or Mrs. by the way… Anyway he said that they are their authentic selves. They were always non binary. They just didn’t know it until they were in their teens or something. I looked it up. There are people who are born in a male body but discover they are female later in life. Like. It’s proven that their brains even work more like that of a female. And the other way around can happen too. So why wouldn’t there be people who are in between?” Janus tried to wrap his head around it. Being a man but not being a man… or a woman. “So is… are they…? Did I say that right?” It felt kind of weird. He’d never heard of this until now. “That was exactly right.” Janus could swear he heard some pride in Virgil’s voice. “Okay, so are they both or neither?” he asked. Virgil’s hand stilled. “You know… I didn’t ask. Hm… I suppose… Maybe it depends on your perspective?” he mused as he continued working. “Look up for a bit please,” Virgil muttered. Janus opened his eyes and felt Virgil start applying some eye liner. “I don’t have mascara, so I’m almost done,” he told him. Janus felt relieved. He was enjoying this, truly. And he was curious to find out how he looked. But he also needed some distance between himself and Virgil. And maybe some time to try to look up what all of these feelings were about. Because he wanted to know what this thing was that threatened his friendship with Virgil. Was this a crush? If it was, then why didn’t he feel any of the stuff he was supposed to feel. Except for a very dumb and dangerous wish to kiss his best friend. “And done! Turn around I’m going to fix your hair a bit.” Janus sighed and turned to face the window. He’d let his hair grow the past few years. It came past his shoulders now and he liked the way it looked. He usually wore it up to the side. But Virgil liked to play around with it sometimes. And Janus secretly liked it when he did. “Okay so I’m not going too wild here. I’m keeping it simple,” Virgil assured him as he started brushing Janus’ hair. Janus hummed in acknowledgement, already lost in the feeling of the brush. This was relaxing. And over much too soon. “Done!” Virgil announced as he hopped off the bed. Suddenly Janus was dragged in front of the mirror. “Well, you look hot, if I do say so myself.” Janus was so shocked that he barely registered the complement. He looked… The person in the mirror was… That was him… If he forgot about his clothes for a minute and just looked at his face. The feeling of wrongness was gone. In it’s place was a strange sort of euphoria. “Is this a good speechless or a bad speechless?” Virgil wondered. Janus was pulled away from marveling at how Virgil had managed to go for a natural look in spite of his birthmarks making it harder to pick a color that looked good on both sides. He wanted to hug him. Thank him for making him look beautiful. He'd never appreciated the shape of his eyes until Virgil made them stand out. His lips looked elegant and full. And now it was down, Jan's hair framed his face so nicely. Virgil was amazing. But when he looked at him, the euphoria subsided. Slowly replaced by dread. He looked like a girl. He realized. If he switched out his clothes a little, he could easily be mistaken for a girl… and he liked looking like this. This was too much. Did Virgil know that this would happen? Was that the point of bringing up pronouns? Was this a test? He couldn’t let him know. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t even know what there was to know. He needed time. “You are getting way to good at this. I almost didn't realize it was me,” he said while he was trying to find an excuse to get the make-up of and go home. Virgil smiled. “I'll take that as a complement. It looks good on you. Thanks for letting me try it out,” he offered as he went back to his bag. “I’ve got some sponges to clean up. Dad wouldn't care, but I get it if you don't feel like explaining that we're just messing around.” Janus relaxed a little at that. Virgil didn’t know. Good. He accepted the sponge and with a heavy heart went to the bathroom to clean up. He left his hair down though, finding a little comfort in that. He also left his nails as they were. When he got back Virgil was sitting cross legged on the bed sketching. He looked up and smiled. Janus smiled back and let himself drop in his usual spot. He probably should go. But if he hurried home now, it would be even more suspicious. And as long as they didn’t get too close again, he could ignore at least half of his crisis. “Hey, I’m probably not going to use the lipstick or most of the eyeshadow anymore. You think your mom can use it?” Virgil wondered absentmindedly after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Janus shrugged. “I'll ask her. You sure? Isn't make-up very expensive?” “It’s all either sale or stuff Uncle Thomas gave to me. One of his friends is a make-up artist who gets stuff like that all the time for free. and I wanted to experiment,” Virgil explained casually. “But like I said I’m not a lipstick kind of emo and other than black, purple and maybe blue I don't think I’ll use any of the eyeshadow.” Janus nodded. “Sure.” He didn’t mention that he might make his own selection first. To test out if it was just novelty that made him feel good, or if he was really… a she. Virgil put the sketchbook aside and got out of bed digging through the bag. He put a bunch of stuff on his desk before coming back and handing the bag over. “I’ll need the bag back though. Have her select what she likes and do with the rest whatever you want.” Janus nodded as he accepted the bag. They listened to music for a while, Virgil sketching absentmindedly. “Is being with a man who’s actually a woman gay?” Janus wondered out loud all of a sudden. Virgil looked up. “Does it matter?” he asked. “I mean… A little?” Janus didn’t know how to explain where the question came from. He knew. But he couldn’t say without giving himself away… herself? No. He was not ready to try out the pronoun. Not even in his mind. “Well… I don’t know… Do you mean someone who’s born male but identifies as female?” Janus nodded. “And we’re talking about us as guys right?” Janus nodded again. “Then. If they identify as female, it’s not gay I suppose. They’re a woman. At least that’s what I got from what I looked up. I didn’t do a whole indebt study.” Janus hummed absentmindedly. “I don’t know if I could make out with someone who’s like that,” he admitted. He didn’t mean to sound insensitive. He might be ‘someone like that’ himself. It just felt all so complicated and confusing right now. He didn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t know for sure until he was put in that position. He thought back to the past few years and his failed attempts at trying to feel interested in girls the way Virgil was. He thought he was just picky. That he needed to be really into someone to even consider putting his mouth on theirs. And the argument could be made that this was true for Virgil too. But he only liked him as a friend. Not as someone he wanted to start a family with. Though he could imagine them jokingly making a pact to settle with each other if they were still single when they turned 30 or something like that. Could people just want to kiss someone without being in love? They did that right? One night stands and all that stuff happened all the time. If they could not be a guy or a girl, or be the opposite of what they were born as. Or seemed to be born as at first glance. His head was spinning. He had too much to think about. “Well, I don’t think I’d care. If I like them, and they’re cute. Then I’d be down I think…” Once again Janus hummed vaguely. It was a bit of a relief. One less thing to worry about for him. They sat in silence after that, listening to music. Virgil sketching, Janus trying to compile a plan. When Virgil was called in for lunch Janus left for his house. He had made a decision. He had lunch with his dad, his mom was at work and his dad had to go present a project. Which meant that by some miracle, Janus would have the house to himself. A rare occurrence. Normally he’d invite Virgil over. But this time, he needed some time for himself. He took the make-up bag up and then dug through his mother’s closet. He took out a skirt and a shirt that sat loose so he wouldn’t ruin them. He wasn’t going to take risks with her shoes. He’d have to make due. Once in his room he searched the bag for the right colors. They’d been shades of yellow and brown, he recalled. He saw that Virgil had kept the eyeliner, which made sense. Virgil wore it almost daily. It was fine. This was just an experiment anyway. He wasn’t as good as Virgil. He figured out that he had used slightly different shades, or blended or something on either eye to make up for the different skin tones. He didn’t get it exactly right but close enough. He’d borrowed his mother’s mascara and prayed he was putting it on right. He put on a shade of lipstick that looked close enough to the one Virgil used, wishing he’d paid more attention to what he said rather than panic about how much he wanted to kiss him in that moment. In any case he was done with his make-up. It wasn’t until he was about to put on his mother’s shirt that he realized he probably should have started with the clothes and ended with the hair and make-up. Live and learn. Very carefully, he put on the shirt and then the skirt. He closed his eyes as he stepped in front of the full length mirror glued to his closet door. He took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s just… try,” he whispered to himself. He opened his eyes… She looked great. Virgil had done a better job, but still. The outfit was… It helped. Janus felt a giddy laugh escape. She played with her hair and held out her hand as if she was greeting someone. “Hi,” she said, making her voice higher. “I’m… Janice. Nice to meet you.” Janice. Familiar but more fitting. Her heart was racing, her stomach in knots. Now this was closer to what Virgil described as falling in love. She was just so happy to meet herself. The pronoun felt much less scary in the privacy of her own room. She was going to have to do more research. Why was she only starting to feel this way now? What was that thing with Virgil earlier? Why did she only feel bad about her body on some days and others she was completely fine with being Janus. Was that normal? But for this moment she let herself be happy. Everything else could wait just a bit longer. The rest of summer, Janus did every chore they could. Their parents and uncle Lo had implemented a system that allowed Virgil and Janus to raise their allowance if they did chores. It was meant to teach them that a good work ethic got rewarded or something along those lines, Janus was sure. But all they cared about was that they’d be able to buy themself some make up and an outfit to wear when they needed it. They were still a mess. The good news was, they now knew why. They were gay. That much was clear. Or well they were exclusively into men. But after talking in some online chat groups, they’d figured out that they weren’t a trans woman, as they’d initially thought. They were, in fact, gender fluid. Some days, he was just Janus. Other days she was more comfortable as Janice. They were okay with they/them on any given day. That is, they’d figured that out in their head. But they weren’t out to anyone yet. They were terrified of telling any adult in their life. Even if they were fairly sure that Uncle Lo, at the very least, was fine with the whole gender thing. But still. They wanted to tell Virgil so badly. But… There was one more thing they’d figured out  that they weren’t ready to share. They were aromantic. Or at least on that spectrum. So… They did and didn’t have a crush on Virgil. There was definitely, attraction they felt for the boy now sitting next to them in the car, singing loudly with them to the songs of one of their favorite bands as they were headed off for a weekend in New York for a P!ATD concert. They were having fun. It was a Janus day, so they felt okay when Uncle Lo and Virgil used male pronouns and stuff like that. Virgil grinned at him. “You better be prepared, I’m going to make you fit in with the crowd tomorrow,” he promised. Janus rolled their eyes and laughed. Setting in the next song with him. About an hour later they got to their hotel. “We have two adjacent rooms. I trust you boys can be responsible enough to be left to your own devices after dinner?” Uncle Lo asked sternly. Virgil and Janus exchanged a glance. “You can trust that we won’t do anything that could make you decide to go back home tomorrow. Making us miss the concert.” Janus assured his honorary uncle, who chuckled. “Well, I suppose that is very sound reasoning. I’ll let you two unpack. We’ll have dinner in the hotel restaurant in an hour,” he reminded them. “Okay, dad,” Virgil grinned as he opened the door to their room and they brought in their luggage. Virgil dropped his as soon as he closed the door. He took a running start and flopped on the bed. Or beds. It was a two bed room, but the beds were pushed together. “This bed is awesome! You have to try this Jan!” Virgil’s tendency to shorten Janus’ name was actually a blessing on their feminine days. Janus smirked and dropped his bags too and dove onto the bed next to Virgil. Oh, they were soft and comfortable. “It’s going to be a pain pushing them apart,” they muttered. “Eh, worries for later,” Virgil said dismissively as he folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m glad we get to do this. It feels like forever since we’ve just hung out you know?” Janus felt a little bad. They’d been very tense lately, which had put a damper on every time they’d visited Virgil or invited him over. They hoped things would get better soon. Once they got over their attraction, they could tell him everything. And then they could get back to normal. They just… Most of the time they were fine. But there were moments when Janus had a gay panic around Virgil and his instinctive reaction was to push away. Which obviously confused Virgil. And rightfully so. Rationally they knew that if they explained themselves, Virgil would understand he didn’t do anything wrong here and everything would be fine again. But they were afraid he’d be weirded out by it. He might be okay with their pronouns bouncing around the way they did. He might be okay with him being attracted to guys. And maybe even with him being aromatic… But him being attracted to him might be too much. “Yeah… Sorry. I’m just…” Janus tried to figure out how to explain some of what he’s going through. Virgil was his best friend. He should tell him. “Hey, I get it. High School has me pretty stressed out too. But even if we don’t have all classes together, there’s lunch, and we’ll see each other outside of school hours to. I mean, we live next to each other. There’s no getting rid of me.” He turned his head and smirked at Janus at the last part. Janus smiled a little. Feeling a little better knowing that Virgil had no intentions of leaving him behind. He never had turned away from him just because some other kids told him he could hang out with them. People had even stopped trying to separate them. With one annoying exception. But he wasn’t going to give that guy the satisfaction of taking up space in their summer. They stared at the ceiling for a while, just talking no sign of any awkwardness. They made it through a fun dinner and when they got back to the room they played a game of truth or dare. It was harmless stuff. Just acting silly and nothing too challenging. Until… “Janus, truth or dare?” Virgil chuckled as he sat down after dancing to ‘barbie girl’. “Dare,” Janus replied carelessly. “Okay… I dare you to…” Virgil bit his lip and played with his sleeve as he thought about a good challenge. Janus knew that these were nervous habits of his but they couldn’t dwell on it very much as suddenly Virgil smirked and leaned in. “I dare you to kiss me.” It was a joke. Very clearly he only meant to take Janus by surprise and tease them about their reaction. But Janus was tempted. He could do it. Kiss him like he’d wanted to and Virgil couldn’t be mad because he’d literally told him to do it. It was the only rule they had for this game. Don’t dare anyone to do something if you are not prepared for them to actually follow through. Because they could be competitive enough to do very dumb stuff just to prove a point. So… If he kissed him now, he could maybe finally get the thought out of their head. And try to gage Virgil’s reaction to see if he was ready for them to come out. They’d hesitated too long though. Virgil was falling back and chuckling. “Relax I was just joking. Besides I never specified where you had to kiss me or anything. No need to stress out about it. Though…” Virgil looked up at him with a thoughtful expression. “You’re pretty cute. I wouldn’t hate kissing you I suppose,” he smirked, making heat flood Janus’ body. He wouldn’t? “You know, if I had to,” he added as he stuck out his tongue. Janus felt his embarrassment turn into annoyance. Virgil had gotten into the habit of complementing him like that. Wrapped up in casual teasing. He couldn’t know that it got Janus’ hopes up and Janus knew that getting upset at him would only hurt them both. But he often found himself powerless to stop it. He tossed Virgil a pillow. “You’re impossible,” he huffed. Hoping Virgil wouldn’t spot the frustration in his tone. Which of course he did. “J?” he asked gently as he got up. Laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. Janus just curled in on himself, too embarrassed to face him. “Hey, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean anything with it okay?” Virgil assured him. “It’s just… I know you are kind of hung up on your skin sometimes… And you know I am terrible at expressing myself… All I wanted to do was like… Let you know I think you look cool and stuff. I know that it probably means nothing coming from me…” God, they were a terrible person. Virgil was trying his best to help them, to lighten the mood that plagued them even though they never let him in on what they were thinking. “You’re wrong,” they muttered into their knees. “It means a lot. It really does… I’m just being an ass hat,” they admitted. Virgil chuckled, their reply enough to let him relax it seemed. “Yeah, but I love ya anyway,” he assured them. There was a pause. “It’s getting late we should split the beds and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow,” Virgil noted. Janus uncurled themselves and nodded. They got up and each pulled one of the beds to the side. They dug through their suitcases for their PJs and Janus worried about whether it would be weird to go to the bathroom to get changed. In the past they just got dressed in front of one another when they stayed over. But that was all before… Before Janus could even finish their thoughts Virgil was heading to the bathroom. They relaxed, not even stopping to wonder why Virgil was suddenly shy about getting dressed in the same room as them. They just got dressed and in bed. They looked up when Virgil got back in the room. “Night J,” he bid as he turned off the lights. “Night V,” Janus replied. It took them a while to get to sleep. Try as they might they couldn’t keep themselves from imagining what it could’ve been like if they hadn’t hesitated. Those thoughts quickly turned to despair though. Virgil had never once expressed attraction to one of their male classmates. Not to mention that despite his whole broody aesthetic, their friend definitely wanted a romantic relationship. Their dreams were plagued with the fear of being found out and rejected. When they woke up Virgil was grinning down at them. Dressed and ready for the day. “Get up sleepy head. Time to get dressed. Breakfast is in one hour,” he informed them as he tossed them color shampoo. Right. They were going to be turned into a real emo kid for the concert today. Janus groaned and got up. Since when was Virgil a morning person? He was usually the last to fully wake up. He must be really looking forward to today. When they got into the bathroom they finally woke up enough to realize that not sleeping well wasn’t the only thing that had them feeling like crap. It was a Janice day. They let out a sigh and were grateful that they packed something they were comfortable in no matter how they felt for the concert. After their shower, they wrapped their hair up in a towel and pulled on the skinny jeans and the baggy band shirt Virgil gave them when he told them they were going to the concert. Apparently it being a few sizes to large added to the look. To Janice, it kind of felt as close as they dared to get to wearing a dress in public. “J? You done yet? Come on! I want to make you pretty!” Virgil’s teasing voice came through the door. Janice wished they could let their friend know how much they appreciated his make overs. “Yeah, I’m ready,” they replied, trying to sound slightly reluctant. Virgil got in with a grin, dragging a chair from the room along with him. He sat Janice down and dashed out of the room to get his make-up bag. When he returned his grin had not faded even a little. He immediately got to work. “You want to wear your hair down or up today?” he asked as he took out a hairdryer and started drying their hair for them. “Down,” Janice replied. Always down on Janice days. Virgil nodded. “Okay. I’m going to pull it out of the way for a bit though,” he informed them as he turned off the hairdryer and tied their hair together on the top of their head. “Close your eyes. It’s going to be a surprise,” he told them. Janice took a deep breath and relaxed as they closed their eyes. They felt Virgil apply something to their face with a sponge. Then a soft brush applied something powdery. Then he made quick work of their eyes and lips. “Okay. It should be warmed up now,” they heard Virgil murmur as he let down their hair again. Before they could ask they felt Virgil start to brush their hair. Pulling up locks and holding something warm against their scalp, moving upwards slowly. Wait was he… Straightening their hair? “Okay…” Virgil mused as he readjusted their shirt. “You can look.” Janice could hear the pride in Virgil’s voice. Clearly he was satisfied with the result. They opened their eyes and felt their mouth drop in awe. “Tragically beautiful I’d say,” Virgil smirked. Their birthmarks… They were gone. Or hidden at least. “What do you think?” Virgil pressed, sounding a little nervous. “It looks great,” they agreed. The waves were out of their hair and the black color actually looked pretty good. Their eyes and lips were accented with dark make-up. They looked good. A little sad but… Also cute? Virgil had rearranged their shirt. Janice had tried to center it, but Virgil had made it so that one of their shoulders was bare. They had never felt this good about how they looked on a Janice day while there were others around. “Awesome. Give me a minute to fix myself and then we’ll head to breakfast,” Virgil told them, clearly relieved that they liked their look. Uncle Lo was okay with Janice’s make over as soon as Virgil assured him that the color wouldn’t stick. And even that was probably only because he didn’t want Janice’s parents to get upset about it. They spent the day sightseeing. Janice got addressed as ‘miss’ at a few stores and while he and Virgil chuckled about it, in secret Janice was very happy with those instances. The concert itself was amazing. For a little bit they could pretend that they didn’t have massive secrets and that things would be okay.

everything to lose

@moonlightshow00​ @naturallyunstablegamer​ @alias290​ @meowthefluffy​ @frida0043​ @angelic-cali​ @selenechris​ @theblackveilinreverse​ @cirishere​ @hestianerd1​

[cannibalisticapple]

Okay, so I have some thoughts on Kurikuri’s decision to delete a large number of her fan fics, and on fan fiction as a whole.

For those who don’t know, Kurikuri (@letaizawarest) is a popular fan fiction author with numerous popular Erasermic fics, along with other fandoms. Around the end of May/start of June she deleted a large number of her stories, specifically those that featured either police, or those set in the My Hero Academia universe where they work as Pro Heroes.

To quote her post:

as you may have noticed, roughly half of the fics on my ao3 have been deleted.

i’ve deleted all my fics about police officers. also, after some thought, i also deleted my non-AU bnha fics, because although they might not be “cops” in name, they are law enforcement. i do not want to be a part of the system that glorifies the police. 


at the moment i haven’t deleted other profession AUs and high school era fics, but i will continue to reflect on their relation to the source material. even if you enjoyed the deleted fics, please do not circulate them in other formats (PDFs, EPUBs, etc). 


i also encourage other writers to think about cop fic they’ve written. while it may be fun and escapist for you, it still encourages the idea that antiblack and killer cops are just “bad apples” and that good cops exist. let’s dismantle that system of thought.

I have some very, very mixed feelings on this.

To start: I respect her reasoning, but I don’t agree with it. I fully agree that it’s not just a bunch of “bad apples”, there’s a serious issue with the system and how the police operate in the United States. I’ve always been bothered by how the police let other officers get away with horrible BS, even as a kid, and that rage has only grown as I’ve grown older and found out more about how screwed up it is on every single level.

But the way that last paragraph is written rubs me the wrong way because you can’t paint every single person in an entire career field as unequivocally corrupt, bigoted and all around callous murderers. Good cops DO exist. Plenty of people go into the career hoping to fix things, or just genuinely want to help their community in whatever way they can. But the thing is, they’re fighting a losing battle because the system is working against them. When they DO speak up against the corruption, bigotry, violence and other issues, they tend to get fired and blacklisted from the field. Or sometimes, they get outright murdered and it’s treated as a “suicide.”

A shitty fact of life: sometimes, the people who are more willing to resort to underhanded tactics and willing to turn a blind eye to corruption are the ones who climb up the career ladder furthest. And in the case of the police, it’s deep-rooted enough that it can’t be fixed internally anymore. But that doesn’t make literally every police officer corrupt.

I’m not posting this to make some political point or argument though. I obviously disagree with Kurikuri’s opinion, but I respect it. I can even respect her decision to remove the stories featuring the police, or even the ones heavily focusing on the characters’ jobs as pro heroes. I can see how heroes are just another version of law enforcement, because honestly, they are.

As a writer and a reader, I fully respect that it’s ultimately her choice to delete her stories. It’s not my place to make demands. She’s the one who created it, and as a writer I know the hard work and time that goes into crafting stories, so I believe she has a right in how it’s used and shared. The fact she shared it in the first place was something she didn’t have to do.

But the thing is, she DID share it, which is why I have this conflict.

As a writer, I’ve always believed that fiction can be more powerful than fact.

Fiction can give readers a window into mindsets you’d never imagine before, because you can connect more easily with fictional characters than real people on the news. That’s why Uncle Tom’s Cabin was so critical in the battle against slavery: it didn’t just gave a face to slavery, it let readers experience the characters’ lives directly. People got to see the struggles and suffering firsthand, feel the rising crescendo of hope each time freedom is in reach, and the soul-crushing despair every time that hope gets dashed by outside forces.

Fiction may not always be “true” or even “accurate,” but it can help us understand other people, see them as fellow humans, in ways that nonfiction just can’t. It can evoke emotions, empathy and familiarity in a reader that a news story or biography can’t capture because it draws you directly into their world.

And it’s that part—the part where readers enter this fictional world to connect to characters they’ll never meet—that leads to the other power of fiction that many people overlook:

Fiction has the ability to help readers persevere.

How many people reading this have used books to get away from trouble in their lives? To take a breather from all their anxieties and stress, and dive head-first into this other world for just a moment, where nothing else matters? How many people reading this had their whole lives changed by reading a story where a character’s words resonated with them? Where it helped them come to an epiphany about how to do better, how to be better.

Sometimes, the world is too overwhelming and we need to escape it. That’s the beauty of fiction. It lets us go to a world where our problems just don’t matter. Even if the world in question is worse than our own, it can still be a relief and give us hope because hey, at least we’re not living in 1984 or the Hunger Games, right? Stories are what keeps many people going through the hardest time, what gives them hope that life isn’t utterly hopeless.

And even after a story is finished, whether it’s fan fiction, a book, a show, or any other medium, that story will have a special place in people’s hearts. Many people will go back to those stories years later when they’re faced with immense stress and need a break from the real world, so that they can dive into the world that helped them persevere the last time they felt so bad. Just having a copy of it on hand can be a source of comfort even if you never read it again.

I want to highlight one phrase Kurikuri used in her post to describe how people feel writing stories about police and heroes: "fun and escapist”. That’s honestly so accurate, those stories are escapist, and that is why I’m so conflicted.

Stories about superheroes, while technically revolving around themes of law enforcement, are a form of escapism FROM police corruption.

There’s a reason that superhero comics are so popular in America. Superheroes appeal to a natural desire for justice because as so aptly pointed out, the real world doesn’t always HAVE that justice. It gives an ideal for people to aspire to, a glimpse of what could be, what should be. (Come to think of it, that’s probably why I hate the DC cinematic universe so much, it’s skewed way too much to favor the villains/antagonists and maximize suffering for the good guys.)

Right now, the world is full of more injustice than ever before. I can’t turn on the news without feeling my rage and stress boil over. Every day it gets worse and worse somehow, and I (and many others) genuinely fear that the United States may be heading towards a civil war this November. Donald Trump’s voice alone is enough to make my blood boil at this point.

I, and many others, turn to fan fiction so I can break away from reality because that amount of rage and fear just isn’t healthy.

I don’t have depression, or anxiety, or an abusive family, or a chronic illness. I’m not at risk of being made homeless anytime soon, nor do I need to worry about bills right now or going hungry. I’m a privileged white girl who has barely anything to worry about. What I’m saying is I’m fucking lucky and I know it, but I STILL can’t stand thinking about the state of the world and need to get the fuck away from it to take a breather for my own mental health.

And I also know that many people don’t have that option because their situation is so bad, they NEED to be aware of it at all times.

In the past when writing for other fandoms, I’ve had people tell me my fan fiction was the reason they did not commit suicide.

In my early college years I fell into the creepypasta community and was pretty active in it, especially on deviantArt. I don’t know if that particular fandom’s subject and focus makes it more appealing to teenagers going through rough times or what, but I swear, more than half the people I spoke to suffered from some form of mental illness, abusive or broken family and home situations, bullying, and every other way the world can screw someone over through means beyond their control.

During that time, a few readers left comments that waiting for my stories to update were what kept them going. They didn’t explicitly say that it was the only reason they didn’t kill themselves. It was more just remarks like, “Your writing is the only thing keeping me going.”

I’m not vain enough to believe my stories are so good, it made people decide to continue living JUST to see what happens next. Suicidal thoughts and urges are much more complex than that. But it’s still not something you expect to hear on something you write for fun.

I’ve thought about it a lot over the years, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t because my stories were "just that good.” I think it was because they needed something to cling to in bleak times. That sometimes at the lowest point where all seems lost, people need just one little thought, just the smallest thing to push away those dark urges before they could fully overwhelm them. Something like, “If I die now, I won’t get to see how that story ends.” It’s such a small thing, but having something to look forward to can be so powerful in fighting off impulsive decisions.

It’s made me hyper-aware of just how powerful writing is.

To me, I see writing as a way of helping others. I give people that option for escape. It’s a large part of why I update on a regular, weekly schedule, and why I published extra chapters when the pandemic got announced and when the riots started. People need that comfort, that little break from reality to just sit and breathe so they can get through the rest of the day. I can’t do much to fix the world, but I can at least give people that.

Right now, people need that escape more than ever.

And deleting the stories is taking that escape away and causing MORE stress.

In times like this, people often turn to the stories they know will help most, and plenty of people in fandoms will first search up their favorite ships. They look for fluff, smut, angst... It helps people feel better to focus on these two people who are obviously in love as they work through their troubles.

Many times, readers will be more drawn to stories in the canon universe than radical AUs set in other universes. That’s how they were introduced to those characters. I myself can enjoy no-power and fantasy AUs sometimes, but what I really crave are how they interact in the canon world because that’s the world and versions of them I want to see the most. By deleting EVERY SINGLE STORY IN THE CANON UNIVERSE, that option was removed.

In many of the stories that were deleted, the characters’ careers were honestly a minor facet of the story. Some used it to establish the setting, such as treating injuries after a patrol. Some just simply used it to explain they work at UA, a school for teaching kids with superpowers. Some just had them work as heroes because it’s set in the canon universe, and never directly show ANTTHING about the work.

I’m not always looking for a story about how being a hero shapes and impacts their lives, and most of those stories that got deleted AREN’T about being a hero. That’s just one piece of their character, it’s far from the focal point. It could honestly be removed from several of them without changing the rest of the story.

I can get wanting to make a political point and I respect that, but by deleting those stories, you’ve taken away a key source of comfort from hundreds, thousands of people. By deleting the stories, you’re making the stress worse.

On Saturday night, I realized several of my favorite stories are suddenly gone. I knew Kurikuri had deleted a bunch of her stories, but I hadn’t realized just how many of them I liked. Some of them I’ve specifically sought out to reread multiple times in the past, never really paying attention to the author. Realizing they’re just gone caused me heavy stress because it made me paranoid about all these other stories I like to reread. I don’t expect those stories to be around forever, but I still didn’t expect them to vanish so suddenly. I never thought I’d need to download them to make sure I’d still be able to read them while the site is still up.

I spent hours searching out specific stories to see if they were written by her, and make sure they’re not gone forever. I have no way of knowing which ones she’d written and deleted because there’s not exactly a list out there anymore. My desperate search for those stories and one in particular (which I still haven’t found) contributed to the lack of sleep I got that night.

And I need to reiterate: I am mentally healthy and have no major stresses in my immediate life. And that’s why I’m hyper-aware of how this stress will affect people who AREN’T as lucky as I am.

If an author decides to delete their stories because they feel the stories themselves push harmful values or themes, fine. If they’re getting harassed, or it reminds them of a bad time in the lives, or they just don’t like that story anymore, okay. I can respect that and accept it.

But these stories were deleted for the EXACT reasons that people will be looking for them now more than ever, and that’s where I draw the line.

This applies to ALL fandoms.

If you as a fan fiction writer have more than, say, 100 kudos on a completed story or one-shot, there’s a good chance people will read and reread your story in stressful times. If you have a reasonably popular story that updates on a regular or even semi-regular basis, there is a chance that someone is using it as a lifeline to have something to look forward to while the rest of their lives go to hell. Maybe not because they specifically love it, but because it gives them something routine.

I want to make it clear that it’s not our job to care for other people’s mental health. Fan fiction writers don’t have an obligation to people, we’re doing it for fun first and foremost. We’re not some sort of saviors, and we shouldn’t think of ourselves that way or we can honestly screw people up worse. We’re not obligated to write these stories JUST for our fans.

At most, our stories are sources of support and comfort for readers. A little break from reality. If writing a story is causing you more stress than enjoyment, stop. Fan fiction, and all other fan media and stories in general, is ultimately created for the creator’s enjoyment more than anything.

Your own mental health comes first. Don’t set yourself on fire to keep other people warm.

But with how utterly fucked and unfair the world is right now, people need those stories now more than ever. So if you’ve got a story out there that’s fairly popular, please, please, PLEASE be mindful of your readers before deciding to delete it. Now is the absolute last time people need more stress trying to find a single story. And if you’re going to delete it, maybe give readers a heads up so that those who need it or have some powerful attachment to it for all the reasons I’ve discussed here can download a copy for their own personal use.

Don’t hurt your readers to make a point.

[mooosicaldreamz]

Have you listened to folklore yet?? Can you do commentary on all the songs??

it’s time.

THE 1

This song has a funny vibe in comparison with “I Forgot that You Existed” - it really sets a tone of calm, quiet vibes in comparison to the more bombastic stuff on Lover. Also this song is kind of a banger. It has a very gentle rhythm, like I’m in the sun in the woods and I’m in my hammock. I have a hammock now and I’m considering moving into it. “It would’ve been fun / if you would’ve been the one.” Also I love the “I had this dream you’re doing cool shit” - so fun, so sweet. Taylor said a curse word.

CARDIGAN

This song is proof to me that this album was produced by a Dessner because it has the same repetitive piano that I would say is a hallmark of National songs - it sounds a lot like “Light Years” to me. That song is, by the way, an absolute banger. This song? Fun! It’s an interesting metaphor, and an interesting way of saying the point of the song. And I think it’s much more grounded than some more old school Taylor metaphors of like fairytale stuff. “Tried to change ending / Peter losing Wendy.”

THE LAST GREAT AMERICAN DYNASTY

As we ALL KNOW, this song is about Taylor’s wonderful little house wherein the great Fourth of July celebration took place all over Instagram in the Red era. I googled it and it’s semi-biographical! I think it’s clear that Taylor is making commentary on her life on the Cape just as much as she is telling the story of this person, Rebekah Harkness. It’s an interesting piece of self-awareness to compare herself to an oil heiress who caused quite the stir in a segment of the world that is full of big stirrers (ie the Kennedys who I’m pretty sure she was neighbors with somewhere down the beach). I’m intrigued. She is having fun.

EXILE (FEAT BON IVER)

This will sound like absurd hyperbole but between Bon Iver and Taylor Swift, I’d be hard pressed to name two artists who have fucked up my life more. Getting to hear his beautiful baritone without layers of distress like he’s been rolling with lately is a gift. Thank you to Taylor Swift. “I can see you staring, honey / like he’s just your understudy / like you’d get your knuckles bloody / for me.” VIBEZ???? ARE WE VIBING????? I AM VIBGIN!!!!!! “Those eyes add insult to injury????”” BANGER!!! IT’S A BANGER.  THAT BREAKDOWNN!!!! LET’S ROLL!!!! LET’S GET FUCKED UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m PUTTING THIS ON SO MANY PLAYLISTS!!!!!!!!!!

MY TEARS RICOCHET

LET’S GET EMO !!!!!!!! You know, just recently I was discussing with Lynne (or myself? I talk to myself about Taylor a lot) about how she’s gonna go on her like farewell tour when she’s 50-60 or whatever and it’s gonna be all these low-down sexy baller mixes, like when Cyndi Lauper did her greatest hits cover release (it’s a banger!). This album is just an excuse for her to sing in her low register. God, I’d die for her. I love how sad this is. I have too many favorite lines. “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace / ‘cause when I’d fight, you used to tell me I was brave / And if I’m dead to you why are you at the wake?” ALSO “And you can aim for my heart, go for blood / But you would still miss me in your bones.” OKAY HONEY!!!!!!! This is a clear Supercorp song. Since I know this is why you are asking. Start here for fic titles.

MIRRORBALL

Oh, okay, Taylor went to the woods and listened to Ryan Adams, Bon Iver, and just fucked around and made shoe gaze pop? What kind of talent!!!! Her last album was premium pop. Why is she like this. This song is very interesting. It’s very sweet. The phrasing on “tallest tiptoes / highest heels” oh my God. I love this song. I might cry.

SEVEN

Another absolute National-style production, God, we are living in my dream world on this album. “I’ve been meaning to tell you / I think your house is haunted / Your dad is always mad and that must be why / And I think you should come live with me / and we can be pirates.” WHAT A JOKE. WHAT A JOKE!!!!!!! What a beautiful portrait of childhood. There’s a scene in Spring Awakening (the musical, I can only assume now that Taylor is a big fan), where they talk about playing pirates when they were younger and now everything is tragic. “Are there still beautiful things?” It shouldn’t be that easy bro.

AUGUST

This, like “Seven” is an Antonoff production, which is just vibes. The dreaminess. We are vibing. As much as I am inclined to hate the line, “August slipped away like a bottle of wine” it is phrased so well and delicately that it comes across more dreamy than wine mom memey. I also just want to say that I bought the OG vinyl and the “meet me behind the mall” vinyl and after hearing the song that it comes from it’s a vibe. This is obviously a teenage romp song, which is really great because obviously Taylor wrote about being a teenager in love when she was a teenager and wrote about like, the classic world-ending Romeo and Juliet style fairytale. But this is….”meet me behind the mall.” Which is such an adult perspective on what being a teenager is. It’s so wonderful to see that artistic depth in an artist we’ve literally watched grow.

THIS IS ME TRYING

I feel like this is the depression song that should have been on Reputation but was so out of step with the rest of the album between it’s thunderous anger / thunderous oh-shit-I’m-into-this-dude that they couldn’t work it in. And it doesn’t quite vibe with Lover either…this whole song is GREAT. It’s very depression 101. It makes me cry also. “They told me all of my cages were mental / so I got wasted like all my potential / and my words shoot to kill when I’m mad / I have a lot of regrets about that.” I LOVE the way she sings “I have a lot of regrets about that.” Also “and it’s hard to be at a party / when I feel like an open wound.” Absolute banger.

ILLICIT AFFAIRS

I feel we should give this song the true banger status because Taylor wrote a song about a girl who is the other woman and it’s empathetic. God, we love progress. This song also does a good job of being about the other woman, but also has a little more universal appeal. I know when I heard this I was like, “oof, okay, I don’t miss being 16.”  The word mercurial is used in this song.

INVISIBLE STRING

Not to get too emo about it, but this song is adorable and it’s messed up that she wrote it. The idea behind it that I think must be fairly common for people who are in love, that their lives have unique crossover moments, and there’s this hope/want to believe that you were always going to end up in this place because of all those connections? That’s kind of a complex thing (imo) to express. And she WROTE IT!!!! God. If I were Joe Alwyn I would cry every day.

MAD WOMAN

The fact that Taylor would ever attempt to make me believe this is not about Scooter Braun is insane. I love this song. Proof of concept that you don’t need to yell to show how mad you are.

EPIPHANY

This song is sad. But very interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her write anything like this. I think the back half of this album is a little more experimental.

BETTY

I’m not sure what I’m expected to say here. I know that this song is not actually gay. But I don’t care. It’s country twang from a boy’s perspective and you know what? We’re taking it. We are taking it for ourselves. But also, I love that she chose to write this weird “teenage love triangle” set of songs and that she chose to write none of them from like, her perspective? Right? “August” is James cheating on Betty, “Illicit Affairs” is the other woman, and this is James…when Taylor was 17 she would have written this song from Betty’s perspective. And that’s what we would have got. There’s real growth in storytelling here, and a real interest in expanding the canon of what she’s writing about. It’s really great to see an artist do that. Also the way she sings “The worst thing that I ever did / was what / I did to you.” This whole song is a masterpiece. I hate her.

PEACE

I just learned that Joe Alwyn is a Pisces. I am A PISCES. TAYLOR!!!! WE COULD BE TOGETHER.

I love the “I talk shit with my friends / It’s like I’m wasting your honor.” This song is so adult. She’s in like. Real love bro. BRO. I AM HAPPY FOR HER. BRO!!!!!!

HOAX

I am interested in why this is the last song on the non-deluxe version of the album. I don’t have a lot to say about this but that it reminds me of Wuthering Heights. Also if you wanted to get emo this is probably a good SC song.

[aion-rsa]

What Went Wrong With Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze?

https://ift.tt/3cey4oF

The story of how Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles went from underground comic book to the highest grossing independent film of all time is the stuff of Hollywood legend. But ask producer Tom Gray about the sequel, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze, and you are likely to hear an altogether different tale. One of a frantically rushed production, censorship backlash and a change of director and direction. Actors were replaced, there were clashes with the comic book creators and a series of strange and unusual characters were added to the mix – including Vanilla Ice.  

Gray was head of production at Golden Harvest, the Hong Kong studio behind martial arts classics like Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon, when comedian-turned screenwriter Bobby Herbeck first approached him about a live-action film adaptation of Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird’s cult comics.  

It’s fair to say he took some convincing.  

“I hated the idea. I thought it was stupid,” Gray tells Den of Geek. Undeterred, Herbeck pestered Gray for months until the Golden Harvest chief had a sudden change of heart.   

“I had an epiphany and thought we could just put stunt guys in turtle suits and make all our money in Japan. That was why I was interested; making it low budget. It escalated when Steve Barron came onboard.”   

Barron had made his name with groundbreaking music videos for Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” and A-Ha’s “Take on Me” and sold Gray and TMNT creators Eastman and Laird on his vision for the movie.   

More importantly, he enlisted the late Jim Henson and his legendary Creature Shop to bring the Turtles to life using state-of-the-art animatronics, which came at no small expense.   

Even so, Gray found the project was a hard sell when it came to finding a major studio willing to distribute the movie.   

“George Lucas’s Howard the Duck had just come out and bombed,” he recalls. “When I went around people would say ‘oh no I’m not going to put my name on the next Howard the Duck. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, how absurd.’ Nobody wanted to step up in the major studios.”   

Undaunted by the mass rejection (“Hollywood is always the last to know”) Gray eventually secured a deal with New Line Cinema, then best known for A Nightmare on Elm Street. 

The rest, as they say, is history.  

That first Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie came from nowhere in the spring of 1990 to make an astonishing $135 million, becoming a cultural phenomenon in the process. A sequel was inevitable but the results were anything but.   

“It was rushed,” Gray says when asked for his overriding feelings about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze.  “Once the first film opened, we figured we had to get another one out as quickly as possible because this whole thing could fade away very quickly if we didn’t come back.”   

Incredibly, a release date for the sequel was set for almost exactly a year on from the original. That seems crazy to think now, in the era where the Marvel Cinematic Universe is carefully plotted out years in advance, but this was 1990 and New Line Cinema. At this point the production company which was working on its sixth Nightmare on Elm Street Movie in the space of just seven years. The quality of those films had varied wildly but one thing had remained consistent: the quick turnaround.  

“New Line wanted it out on pretty much the same date, maybe a week earlier in fact. So, we rushed into the production, got a script together. The overarching thing was speed. We had to get it out,” Gray remembers. “I think that’s probably the reason why it doesn’t top many people’s list of the best Turtles movies.”   

A Change in Tone

One of the first challenges facing Gray was a tonal one. While the first TMNT film had garnered praise for maintaining the dark and dangerous feel of the original comics, not everyone was happy.   

“We started getting some pressure from parental groups. They felt it was a little too dark and a little too frightening for children,” Gray says.  

In the US, there were reports of Turtles toys and merchandise being banned in schools over worries they encouraged aggressive behavior in kids. In the UK, the characters were even rebranded the Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles amid concern among censors that the word “ninja” promoted violence. Michelangelo’s nunchucks were also banned. It wasn’t just the censors who expressed concern either.   

“The toy company was also telling us that maybe we shouldn’t be too dark,” Gray said. “And then, of course, then there was Jim Henson himself, who died while we were making the first film. His whole thing from the beginning was that he didn’t want to make a really dark film. Steve [Barron] was able to convince him it was the way to go even though it was different from the Muppets and everything he had done before. They had a great relationship. Jim trusted Steve.”   

The decision was made to approach the material with a lighter tone, with Todd Langen’s original script undergoing a major rewrite to address the change. Despite the change Gray insists an attempt was made to retain some of the darker elements.   

“We tried to get somewhere in between but probably didn’t succeed.”   

Ultimately, however, the looming deadline left little room for nuance.    

“If you sit down and think about this thing too much, you’re never going to get underway,” he reasons.

A New Director  

In another notable shift that fans have questioned down the years, Barron did not return for the sequel.  

The Irish filmmaker told Flickering Myth that the shift in sensibilities was the deciding factor.   

“[It was] lighter, and all the instructions that had gone on from the first film were coming from the producers about keeping the color and lightness and getting away from the dark edge in number two,” he said. “For me it was poppy, and that wasn’t my sensibility.” 

Gray tells Den of Geek Barron didn’t come back “for reasons that I won’t go into” but during the interview paints a picture of difficulties during their work together on the first film.   

“I fought with the crew every single day but they did a hell of a job. Budgets were not adhered to but I’ve always given them credit because of their vision,” Gray says.   

The producer also revealed that the first film was re-edited from Barron’s original version after his bosses were left unhappy with the director’s cut.  

“The studio did edit the film in the end to come up with a different version.  It was felt it was cut so you didn’t get to see the roundhouse kicks and fighting which was the hallmark of Golden Harvest. When the bosses saw it in Hong Kong, they complained that they couldn’t tell what the turtles were doing. They wanted to see these guys kicking and fighting. Steve’s style was good but we wanted another look.”   

Despite Gray’s diplomatic tone, it’s not difficult to imagine such developments might have created tension. In Barron’s place came American filmmaker Michael Pressman, who Gray knew from his days at United Artists.    

“What I liked about Michael was that he was a disciplined director. Having gone through the problems with the first picture I wanted someone who shot fast and stayed on budget. That was my main motivation,” the producer says.    

A capable director who has gone on to enjoy a long and varied career in television, little of the blame for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2’s failing can fall at Pressman’s feet though it’s undeniable that some of the creative spark of the first film was lost with Barron’s exit.   

So was much of the original’s violence, with the Turtles rarely shown using their weapons in the finished film while the action set pieces were also significantly watered down.  

Eastman and Laird

Despite the criticism levelled at the sequel for failing to retain the tone of the comics, all of what went into the movie was greenlit by the TMNT creators. Part of the deal inked by Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman saw them retain final approval on anything in the film. But that created other issues both at script and production level, as Gray recalls.  

“Kevin was certainly more malleable with going along with things because of the budget but Peter was very difficult to get things by because he would say ‘Oh, well Michelangelo would never say that’. So, it was very hard from the point of view of the writer trying to figure it all out.”   

Read more

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With Barron no longer around to mediate and sell them on the plans and with time ticking on, the pair’s reluctance to sign off on ideas led to increased tensions.  

“We argued a little bit,” Gray says. “These things are never sweet or nice. It gets down to what we can do and, in the time provided. It’s about compromise. In the end they approved Langren’s changed script.  Maybe it was reluctantly but we weren’t going to meet the demand and get this out if they kept changing things.”   

Tokka and Rahzar

One of the most noted criticisms of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2 concerned the decision to introduce two new sidekicks alongside returning villain Shredder, rather than draw on the wild array of mutant animals that had featured in the comics and TV series. 

Many fans had expected to see Bebop and Rocksteady, the mutant warthog and rhinoceros supervillains made famous in the cartoon, feature. However, that cartoon outing proved both a blessing and a curse. 

“I didn’t want them in any of the movies,” Laird later revealed on his personal blog. “It’s not so much that I disliked the characters so intensely, but more that I found their constant one-note shtick in the first animated series to be extremely annoying and silly to the point of being stupid.”  

Gray’s version of events differs slightly.   

“We wanted new villains because we would get a piece of the royalty, which we didn’t have with the first movie. We figured if we created something they didn’t come up with we would get a piece of the pie. It was a business decision.”   

Together with the creatives at Henson’s Creature Shop, they “threw together” Tokka and Rahzar, a mutant Alligator Snapping Turtle and wolf respectively, based on pretty much whatever was available. 

“Those things were basically the Henson Creature Shop’s ideas, because they had to figure out, technically, what they could do, how big they were going to be and how they could move,” Gray says. “They had to design all this stuff, put someone in the suit and then wire them up or get the animatronics going to make it work. So, we just went to them and said we need a couple of villains.” 

Indeed, the resulting animatronics proved less complex and less compelling than the heroes in a half shell – and it showed on screen.   

“They were just big models,” Gray admits. “We cut corners, there’s no question about it.”   

Sweaty and Claustrophobic

Meanwhile, the turtle suits themselves had undergone little in the way of upgrades since the first film, when the actors playing the four leads experienced any number of issues. Not the least of which being the claustrophobia and sweating that comes with wearing up to 70lbs worth of turtle suit.  

The animatronics also, despite being state-of-the-art, continued to suffer their fair share of glitches.  

“We knew what the difficulties were and they were unbelievable,” Gray says. “There were days when we couldn’t even get these things set up.  We were filming right near the Wilmington Airport. We set up a shot and when it came time for action the Turtles would not speak. We realized they were on the same frequency as the airport.”    

Gray blames the lack of a major upgrade, in part, on the lack of additional budget.    

“The budget didn’t exponentially go through the roof, because of the speed,” he explains. “I have read things saying it was $20 million. It wasn’t, it was $16.5 million.”  

A New April O’Neil

Away from the animatronic issues, the human cast of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2 proved a mixed bag.  Corey Feldman didn’t return to voice Donatello after pleading no contest to a drug possession charge while, more notably still, Judith Hoag was replaced by Paige Turco as April O’Neil.  

Hoag later told Variety she was never approached about the sequel, claiming her omission was a result of the fact she complained about the level of violence in the first movie and the six-days-a-week shooting schedule.  

“Everybody was beating everybody up,” Hoag said. “I thought the movie suffered because of that. It was something I spoke to the producers about, I think they thought I was too demanding, and moved on.” 

Not that Gray felt the production suffered as a result of either changes.  

“No, not at all,” he says. “Certainly not with Corey Feldman because it’s a voice. Remember when you play that movie around the world it will be in 40 or 50 different languages and subtitled anyway. It makes no difference and nobody overseas even knew Corey Feldman was doing a voice…With Judith, we thought it might be of concern but then again it’s all about the Turtles. People aren’t showing up for Judith – though she did a fabulous job – it was really all about the Turtles.”   

Elias Koteas also failed to return as the ice hockey stick-wielding vigilante and ally Casey Jones – though that was more down to the film’s shift away from adult themes and one of the more violent human characters.   

“Casey was discussed but the reason he dropped out – and I don’t think this was a major issue – was the direction we wanted to take the film,” Gray says. “We wanted to go lighter. That was part of cleaning up the act.”   

In his place came Ernie Reyes Jr, a rising martial arts star who had served as a stuntman on the first film and was introduced as Keno, a pizza delivery boy who befriends the turtles. It was a stark departure from Koteas’s character but, once again, it was one Gray says came with the backing of the TMNT hierarchy.   

“If Peter and Kevin had wanted Elias back, he would have been back. So, either we were able to convince them that we wanted to go with Ernie and they went along with it.”   

Vanilla Ice

Quite how they were convinced to include rapper Vanilla Ice in the proceedings is anyone’s guess, with the rapper turning up in a mid-film nightclub scene to perform new single “Ninja Rap.” His cameo continues to delight and horrify fans to this day. Few will be surprised by the commercially-minded circumstances that led to his appearance.   

“SBK the record label producing the soundtrack album said ‘You gotta have Vanilla Ice in this, he’s hot’ so we put him in…We had a good album out of it. Sometimes you don’t make the movie for the reason of art you make it because the thing could go away in a heartbeat. I’ve always been fairly honest and upfront about our motives. It is a business.”     

While others might disagree, Gray stands by the inclusion of Vanilla Ice in the film.  

“He actually did a very good job. He’s a very cool operative and he loved doing it.”   

Shredder or Krang?   

Looking back on the sequel, as much as anything, the most disappointing aspect was the decision to resurrect Shredder rather than explore different villains in the way other comic book franchises have.  

While Shredder has always been the main antagonist, as with Bebop and Rocksteady, there remained a plethora of colorful villain characters that could have been plucked from the pages of the original comic or the animated series. But the decision to stick with Shredder was not one takem lightly by anyone, and others were discussed.  

“We went through the whole catalogue of villains and certainly Krang and all these other characters were in play,” Gray says. “We thought of them but we stayed with what works and that’s what you do in these situations. Don’t try and get too clever.”   

As much as anything he blames the Hollywood system and a refusal to take risks. New Line too, would have no doubt been happy to press ahead with a Shredder-oriented sequel, seeing him as the TMNT’s very own Freddy Kreuger of sorts.  

“Nobody trusts their instincts,” Gray says. “You go with what worked before and try to modify it a little bit. If it works [and the plethora of Freddy sequels suggests it did] then you are justified in using the same thing over and over again.”  

Once again though the decision to stick with Shredder and avoid the kind of time and expense required to create something like Krang, a brain-shaped alien carried around in the waist of a robot man, was influenced by that release date.  

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze opened in theaters on March 22, 1991, less than a year on from the original. It went on to make over $78 million to become the second most successful independent film of all time.   

Despite turning a profit, the film garnered mixed reviews and left Gray and others disappointed.  

“It didn’t deliver on what we had hoped because there was this race against time to get it out one year after the first one. When you do that, you really have to compromise.”  

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III 

After the rush to make a second film, it was decided that they would take more time over the third one.  

But anyone hoping for a return to form was left disappointed by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III: Turtles in TIme, which saw the gang head to 17th century Japan.  

“With number three, we were aiming something at the Japanese market, which was the number one market for foreign films,” Gray explains. “That’s why we had the time travel storyline with the samurais. That was definitely one of the motivations.”  

There was just one problem though.  

“We hoped it would get the film released in Japan. To this day, it has not been released in Japan.”  

Though Gray returned to produce an animated fourth film in the 2000s box office returns diminished with every film. By the time Michael Bay got involved in the franchise, Gray was long gone. He now considers himself “out of the turtle game” with this being one of the last interviews on the subject. But despite the highs and lows endured on the second film, Gray remains proud of what was achieved. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

“These movies were made by committee. It’s amazing they turned out so well.”  

The post What Went Wrong With Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3c7N9be

[goffilolo]

Revival of Midoriya Izuku chapter 3

It’s been 84 years huh? As always the fanfic is up on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929483/chapters/52652386

also im aware of like some formatting issues with the fic when it comes to tumblr, so reading it on ao3 might be better if you particularly care about like italics and what not, but otherwise it’s all the same stuff.

“Move your ass Boom Boom Bitch, I wanna get there early!” shouted Izuku, as him and Bandit sat on rather stylish, but uncomfortable couch in the Bakugous’ living room that was probably worth more than both of them put together, which probably wasn’t even that much anyway since they’re both garbage, but it’s about the principle of the thing.

“Shut your mouth you Trash Twink, I’ll get there when I get there! And what the fuck are you doing in my house?” screamed Bakugou all the way from upstairs, although with his voice being as explosive as his quirk he might as well be standing right next to you considering the damage he does to everyone’s eardrums.

Speaking of hearing damage “Katsuki!!! Is that how you talk to our guest you rude brat?! Get over here!” exclaimed Aunt Mitsuki.

“Shut it old hag! Deku’s not a guest, he’s just an annoying cockroach that invites himself wherever he wants and does whatever he wants!” which is a fair point, considering Izuku has invited himself to Bakugou’s first day at UA for less than wholesome reasons. Some people might see it as the ultimate bitch slap to Bakugou’s ego (partially true), but for the most part it’s merely a testament of how far Izuku has come, considering he now only sees UA as a place where he can flirt with Tensei’s hot brother, rather than a means of accomplishing some bullshit dreams... But it’s not like Kacchan knows any of this, so he can fuck off.

If you were to ask Izuku what his deal with Bakugou was, he would reply “Best friends, duh” with enough sarcasm to last you the next ten years. If you were to press for any specifics his reply would be more along the lines of “I dunno, get the fuck out of my apartment” followed by having Trash Bandit sent after you. The bottom line was, his relationship with Bakugou was complicated, as were most thing in Izuku’s life, but that’s not unusual.

Izuku’s presence at the Bakugou household though? That’s quite unusual, yet more likely than you’d think.

And although the screaming match between the two Bakugous was ever so entertaining Izuku had places to be, and guys to seduce, so “Leave it Auntie” he exclaims in a dismissive manner “We don’t want to rile him up too much, otherwise he ain’t gonna get that 30-day chip from the anger management that he’s been gunnin’ for” he adds half-jokingly.

“I know, I know” she says “But you’d think he would act a little nicer by now, after all these months of therapy.”

“Wouldn’t expect miracles if I were you Auntie, you know what the say; Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree ” replies the boy with a shiteating grin as he motions towards Bakugou descending down the stairs, not missing the way Mitsuki flinched ever so slightly at his rather obnoxious comment.

“And to think you used to be such a nice boy yourself, I used to always tell your mother how great it would’ve been if Katsuki was more like you” she says in a mix of bittersweet nostalgia and regret.

“Yeah well, considering the shit I got for being nice , I think from now on I’d rather be a bastard and then some” exclaimed Izuku as he got up from the couch with Bandit in tow and made his way towards Bakugou. The other boy was getting ready to leave as well and his excitement for the day was concealed even more poorly than his mother’s discomfort at the current conversation “Have a good one Auntie!”

And with that, the two teenagers and one (1) sheep were on their way.

“Kacchan please , not everything is about you” said Izuku exasperatedly, hurrying over to the only empty seat on the train.

“Like hell it isn’t! This was supposed to be MY DAY, my first day at the school of my fucking dreams, and you’re trying to ruin it by following me around dressed like a dollar stripper!” replied Bakugou in a whisper-scream. He may have anger issues but he wasn’t a dumbass and the two of them were already drawing enough attention as it was. It wasn’t exactly easy to remain unnoticed on a train while carrying a green sheep; a task which fell on Bakugou, because Izuku was a weak-noodle-arm-bitch.

“First of all, I’m flattered that you think I’m worth a dollar” said the weak-noodle-arm-bitch in question “And second of all, this is my best outfit.” Said best outfit consisted of a worn out tank top that had THE HOES written on it in what once was a glittery pink; a pair of booty shorts with ENEMY OF STATE hand stitched onto the backside and rainbow patterned knee socks. The look was completed with a pair of pink platform crocs, because Izuku had standards ... and because he was short.

“God I hate you” murmured Bakugou.

“Don’t I know it Kacchan?”

The rest of the train ride was spent in silence.

It wasn’t until they actually reached the gates of the school that Bakugou had a thought; one that he probably should’ve had before they even left his house, but having a coherent thought while carrying a sheep and bickering with the sheep’s owner about whether the sheep should be referred to as a dog or not is in all fairness not possible.

“They won’t let you in” he said, voicing the sudden epiphany.

“Sure they will” replied Izuku.

“Oh yeah? How? Deku, you don’t fuckin’ go to this school, you don’t go to ANY school!” shouted Bakugou, because they were no longer on the train, therefore arguing with a lunatic stripper looking guy was now acceptable.

Izuku for the most part did not have a problem with that, because not only did he love having petty fights with people, he also loved proving them wrong, especially when everyone and their grandma accuses him of being a high school drop out.

“Shinjuku Metropolitan would beg to differ” he says, dropping the metaphorical bomb on the unsuspecting dipshit that is his childhood friend, after which he continues to walk, crossing the gates of UA High like he owns the damn place.

After about a minute of Bakugou standing frozen in shock, he finally snapped out of it when Bandit decided to start chewing on his uniform “Oi, hold the fuck up!” screamed the blond as he followed Izuku inside, while the sheep was being dragged along like a betrayed ragdoll  “Did you just say Shinjuku Metropolitan?!”

“Kacchan, you know I can’t hold you, you’re too heavy” replies the other teen, while pointedly ignoring Bakugou’s question and the looks he’s been getting from the students.

“Don’t change the subject shitty Deku! How the fuck did your ass get into a top non-hero high school in the whole damn Tokyo you bitch?”

“What, like it’s hard?”

“I fuckin’ swear to God-”

“Do it! Pull the trigger piglet!”

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”

Their pointless quarrel, which was on a steady way into becoming a straight up brawl (Izuku having already pulled out his axe and lighted a cigarette using one of Bakugou’s warning explosions) came to a stop when they were interrupted by one of UA’s teachers, although in Izuku’s opinion she made a wrong career choice, considering being a Dominatrix probably paid more.

On another note, when someone asks you ‘what’s going on?’ that doesn’t mean they’re actually interested in whatever is happening at the moment, it means ‘stop’, therefore Izuku’s answer to that question, which usually involves something along the lines of “You see, I’m small, horny and full of rage, and I have no outlet for these emotions” is rarely appreciated. That is not to say that the lack of appreciation is going to stop him from spawning whatever dumb shit comes to his mind when faced with the judgement from authority figures. If anything it makes everything worse.

“That’s just how we flirt” replied the teen instead, all the while looking THE Pro-Hero Midnight dead in the eye and putting out his cigarette on Bakugou’s uniform jacket. Bakugou, for the most part was unable to even be mad at the cigarette burn considering he was busy recovering from being metaphorically punched in the kidneys by that line.

“And why aren’t you wearing uniform?” she asks suspiciously, pointing at Izuku’s attire.

“Oh, I don’t go here” he replied casually.

“Then pray tell , why are you in this school?”

“To get laid”

“TO WHAT?!” screamed Bakugou in surprise.

At this point Midnight took out her phone (no, her costume doesn’t have pockets, please don’t ask where she keeps it) and clicked on one of three contacts she keeps on her speed dial.

“Principal Nedzu, we got a situation…”

After telling Bakugou not to worry and that he will see him later in class, Izuku was dragged to the principal’s office by Midnight.

On the way there he tried cracking up another joke, telling her that his safe word was ‘avocado’. She did not appreciate that one either. For those of you wondering what happened to Bandit, the sheep ended up following Bakugou, much to the blond’s dismay.

Now, being sent to a principal’s office, especially of a school that you don’t even attend is usually a sign that you have royally fucked up. Not for Izuku though, because he had a plan! Contrary to the common belief, Izuku is not dumb. The fall didn’t kill off any of his brain cells, only his ability to give a shit, which made life much easier since he no longer had to worry about things like: people’s opinions, social norms, laws and heteronormativity.

Anyway, back to the plan. Izuku was not dumb, therefore even he knew that wandering around UA while not attending the school would not fly. He needed a way to stay, and for that he needed the guy who runs the whole shitshow; Nedzu.

Which is why the moment Midnight opens the door to the office Izuku stomps in like a man on a mission and stops right in front of an animal of questionable origin in a suit that is allegedly UA’s principal. A little unusual, but if a scumbag like Endeavour can hold the title of No. 2 Hero in Japan, then an animal can run a school.

The principal in question was calmly sitting on a couch and drinking tea, totally unconcerned with whatever bullshit Izuku was about to throw at him.

“Now, what seems to be the issue with this young man?” asked Nedzu.

“This young man-” said Izuku, pointing to himself in a rather cocky manner “has a message for you!”

“And what would that message be?”

The principal’s question was answered with what Izuku can only think of as the ultimate power move, or in this case; a literal ace up the sleeve. The boy proceeded to pull out a Monopoly “Get out of Jail” card out of his shorts (since he technically wasn’t wearing any sleeves) and slam it on the table right in front of Nedzu.

While to an outsider the current situation might seem absurd, it is important to remember that Izuku had a plan; one that could’ve never come to a fruition without a little help from the most unexpected person, which is why that card was no ordinary Monopoly card, but a very specific reminder that only Principal Nedzu would know the meaning of, and when he picked it up and flipped it around, the neatly written message on the back made its presence known.

It read: “You owe me one. - Hisashi”

“My dad says ‘Hi!’ ” exclaimed Izuku, taking one look at Nedzu’s face and knowing that he already won.

Was cashing in on a favour that his dad secured like 10 years ago a morally good decision? Debatable, but it got the job done so he’s not gonna complain. All that mattered was that Izuku now had a pass to enter the UA grounds whenever he pleased and nobody could stop him, and so here he was about to enter the classroom where Kacchan is supposed to be in. The bell hasn’t rung yet so he still had some time and who knows, maybe the handsome guy from the police station was in the same class?

With that in mind he opened the gigantic door and made his way into the classroom and was met with what looked like a pissing contest between his crush and his childhood friend.

“REMOVE YOUR FOOT FROM THAT DESK! SUCH AN ACTION IS INSULTING TO THOSE WHO CAME TO UA BEFORE US AS WELL AS THE CRAFTSMEN WHO MADE THIS DESK!”

“LIKE I CARE! WHAT MIDDLE SCHOOL ARE YOU FROM, YOU EXTRA ?!”

Ah yes, pissing contest at its finest, which meant that Izuku had options . The most obvious course of action would be siding up with Tenya and taunting Kacchan, which is not something Izuku would ever say no to. However , it also happens that the object of his affections had a massive boner for rules and authority, which is the exact opposite of everything Izuku stands for, so siding up with Kacchan it is.

And so he made his way to the pair of bickering teenagers and promptly pushed Kacchan’s feet off the desk, earning a scoff from the blond and an approving but baffled look from Iida, which only lasted for about 2 seconds, because Izuku being the gay disaster that he is simply HAD to ruin it all by claiming the desk as his sitting spot and giving Tenya the most ridiculous bedroom eyes that had Kacchan fake gagging like his life depended on it.

“Umm...Izuku, was it?” asked Tenya, feeling awkward under the other boy’s intense gaze.

“It sure was” replied the boy, feeling happy about leaving enough of an impression to be remembered from all those weeks ago “Fancy seeing you here, huh?”

“Indeed-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Deku!” exclaimed Bakugou, completely fed up with the cringeworthy display in front of him “Just tell four-eyes that you came here because you wanted to see him and be done with it!”

“WHAT?”

“Kacchan, not now! I’m trying to put on some moves!”

“Well your moves are shit-”

“Hey, aren’t you that guy from the news who stabbed a villain in the eye with an axe?!” shouted one of the students while pointing at Izuku. There was something ironic about the fact that it was his stunt on live TV from 2 weeks ago that got everyone’s heads turning and not his iconic outfit, or inappropriate behaviour, or literally anything else about him. Like that’s just rude ok? And interrupting him while he’s trying to flirt? Also rude.

“Bitch, I might be” he replied anyway, because his reputation was on the line and because at this point literally everyone has gathered around the desk that he sat on, so things were way past the point of return. People were throwing questions and accusations at him left and right, Trash Bandit is nowhere to be found and his quil flask is not full enough for this bullshit. At this point Bakugou simply got up from his seat and sat at the back of the room, as far away from this nonsense as possible.

“It’s you!”exclaimed the boy with dual coloured hair and equally mismatched eyes “You’re the guy who keeps T-posing in front of my house. Can you please stop?!” he asked with the most deadpan face Izuku has ever seen despite his voice being filled with desperation.

“Look, I T-pose in front of a lot of houses so you’re gonna have to be more specific” he replied sarcastically — despite knowing exactly who he was talking to — since it probably wasn’t a good moment to mention that you’re besties with that person’s mom because you were both stuck in the same loony bin and so you already know all the family drama and have dedicated a good portion of your time to harassing her abusive piece of shit husband…especially with like 20 people around you.

“You’re the one who egged my limo!” shouted one of the girls at the back. She was a very tall girl with long, dark hair tied in a seemingly gravity defying ponytail and a kind face. She had an air of a distinguished lesbian about her, which Izuku could respect even if she was rich if the limo comment was anything to go by. He egged several limos in his lifetime because seeing rich people out in public makes him go apeshit, as it should, so really how is he supposed to remember everyone?

“And I will egg it again!” promised Izuku “When I see rich people out and about it triggers my fight-or-fuck response”

“Don’t you mean fight-or-flight?” she asked.

“No”

“Are you ok?”

“Not in the slightest”

And with that more people joined in on the conversation, including a particular girl who very much looked like an alien with her bright pink skin and black sclera who ended up complementing his outfit, which thank fuck someone here actually had good taste , as well as a guy who ended up being Ms Shouji’s son, and the only reason he found out was because the guy recognised his antics based on the gossip his mom told him and isn’t that a small fuckin world? And in the middle of it all laid an inconspicuous yellow sleeping bag that has been conveniently ignored by everyone for the sake of the plot up until now.

The sleeping bag began to seemingly unzip by itself and soon enough Bandit’s head poked out of it.

“Bandit! There you are”

“Baaah!”

“Guys! Look at this dog!” exclaimed one of the students who Izuku thought looked like a personification of weed, but he wasn’t going to say that. At least the guy knew what he was talking about.

“I’m pretty certain it’s a sheep-” added Tenya, taking his role as the last standing voice of reason in this room very seriously, even though his voice has practically drowned in the sea of teenagers chanting ‘good doggo’, similarly to how one might feel if they were standing at a dance floor while Baby Got Back started playing.

It’s also important to note that while all of this was happening, Bakugou who has sat himself at the back of the room was forced to witness the chaotic force that is Izuku interacting with multiple people at once while being able to convince about 20 of them to refer to his sheep as a dog, and in that moment he turned around staring into the void and asked himself “Am I having a fuckin stroke?”

“Nah, he’s always like that” replied the one person who was sat at the back along with him that Bakugou previously did not bother to notice.

“And how would you know, you damn extra?” asked Bakugou somewhat offended, because sure him and Izuku were not on the friendliest terms and the whole incident from last year really changed him and what not. But they still knew each other their whole lives, so really that had to count for something and Bakugou was not willing to compromise on that with some random extra who looked like a Tinky Winky humansona on drugs.

Unfortunately Bakugou was not able to get an answer because the entire class was interrupted by a homeless looking guy coming out of the yellow sleeping bag to shame student kind. “If you’re here to socialise, then get out” he said. Soon enough the room was filled with a tense silence as the students were unsure of what to expect next.

“It took 8 seconds for you to quiet down. Time is a precious resource. You lot aren’t very rational, are you?” asked the man as he walked to the front of the classroom, making it very clear that he was in fact their teacher. The man was rather tall and unkept, his hair was long and slightly curled, similar to Izuku’s own and the outfit he wore could only be described as a goth onesie. There was something very familiar about him but Izuku couldn’t quite make out what it was supposed to be.

However, just because Izuku’s memory aligns very closely with a slice of swiss cheese doesn’t mean that the same can be said about the teacher in question. As soon as he turned around to get a good look at his new class his eyes fell on Izuku and his face has swiftly shifted from that of practiced disinterest to shock and recognition that Izuku honestly was not expecting.

“What are you doing here problem child?” asked the man with a certain degree of disbelief in his voice. Once again there was something very familiar about him and the way he addressed Izuku and wait a minute did he just call me a problem child? That can’t be-

“Uncle Shouta” exclaimed the boy in a way that felt uncertain, yet childishly hopeful “Is that you?”

“Of course it is brat, who else would I be?” he replied with a hint of amusement.

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Episode 16: The Job

Here are my time-stamped thoughts as usual.

WRITTEN THE MORNING OF April 20, 2020. EPISODE 19 HAD NOT YET BEEN RELEASED!!!!

SPOILERS AHEAD

0:10 - How much time has passed since the end of last episode? A week? A month? 

0:15 - You can see Mr. David sitting outside the door here. I can’t tell if he’s looking into the cell. BUT if everyone thinks that Jessica stabbed Martin - why is she allowed into his cell right now?!? 

0:17 - Malcolm looks so dead inside right now. Dang. This boy does not want to be visiting Martin. Jessica looks angry with Martin and done with his antics - as usual. 

0:50 - Martin is so proud that Malcolm stabbed him. This is peak dysfunction. 

1:20 - Ugh. Can’t Malcolm catch a break? Martin is manipulating him again.....wait. Did Martin orchestrate his own stabbing just to see Malcolm more often?!? That’s seriously messed up.

1:23 - ....This means that Malcolm had regular visits with Martin when he was a kid. Was it scheduled like some sort of twisted custody agreement? Like every Wednesday afternoon? 

2:15 - Why did Jessica and Malcolm go back to Malcolm’s loft instead of Jessica’s house? Is Malcolm’s loft closer? Does the house hold too many memories of Martin? 

2:30 - Malcolm looks so scared here. He knows that Martin controls him now. He knows that he’s doing a version of jail-time for his crimes. He’s scared of what his mother is planning. He’s scared that Martin won’t make a statement. 

2:48 - Anyone else’s heart break as you watched Malcolm realize that he can’t think of a single happy thing in his life? Mine did. It looks like Jessica’s did too. 

3:00 - Why is Jessica still riding the Eve/Malcolm train? Eve told Jessica that Malcolm is a good person “deep down” - hella insulting if you ask me. And they tried to date - it lasted one night. They clearly aren’t meant for each other. Their relationship didn’t last 48 hours!!! 

3:05 - Did Malcolm date as a teenager? Was Jessica this meddlesome in his love life then too? 

3:17 - OMG. Every child has had this experience with their parent. For me - it was/is every time my grandmother (who lives on another continent) called us. All she talks about is food. I love her but I don’t want a 3 hour conversation about the sales in the grocery store. 

 3:25 - Is Malcolm even still into Eve? It doesn’t seem like it. I think he just wants to make his Mom happy and make it up to Eve in general. I don’t think he’s in a good mental state to date anyone right now tbh. Even though I ship Brightwell. 

3:41 - OMG. Jessica looks like she’s watching her favourite reality TV show. I’m cringing. 

4:31 - I love watching Gil make a joke a Malcolm’s expense. It’s kind of adorable - looks how happy Gil looks. Watching JT laugh at it is great too. HOWEVER, I’ve only seen Malcolm wear one (1) watch. A regular looking watch with a brown leather band. I’m no watch connoisseur but it didn’t look like one of those super fancy expensive ones? So I assume Gil is just making a joke about Malcolm’s general wealth? 

5:28 - I don’t think Edrisa is making Malcolm uncomfortable on purpose. I think she’s just super socially awkward. She starts backing off as soon as she notices Malcolm’s discomfort. JT’s comment though - hahaha I love him. Give JT more screen time. 

5:43 - OMG. Gil, JT, and Dani look so confused and annoyed here. Vijay certainly makes an entrance. Not in a good way. I immediately hate him for being a pompous jerk. 

5:50 - Malcolm doesn’t look all that excited to see Vijay. Shocked and confused? Definitely. He even looks a little embarrassed. He looks back at the team as though he doesn’t want them to see Vijay. 

6:00 - Vijay is an overgrown bully. He is way too physical with Malcolm, who doesn’t seem to enjoy much physical contact. He doesn’t even like it when Edrisa (a completely harmless, socially awkward friend) stands too close to him. That first slap on Malcolm’s shoulder looked violent - not like friends greeting each other. AND he deliberately calls Malcolm “Whitly” after Malcolm asked him not to. 

6:04 - Awww look at how proud Malcolm is to be working with Major Crimes!!! My heart is so full. 

6:25 - Malcolm looks super uncomfortable when Vijay wipes his finger gun on him. 

6:30- Dani and JT look intrigued and confused that Malcolm knows this dude. They also look annoyed that Vijay is manhandling Malcolm and clearly trying to trick Malcolm into thinking that he and Vijay are friends. AND GIL. Oh dude. Gil has definitely heard stories about Vijay. This man does not like Vijay. Gil does not like Vijay touching Malcolm either.

6:40 - OK. A couple of things: 1) Dani showing up behind Malcolm like his guard dog is adorable. This is the friend Malcolm deserves. 2) Dani’s face when Vijay tries to flirt with her is a mood. This woman is hating Vijay more with every passing second. 

7:00 - “Aww. You were bad Dad kids” hahaha brb crying. 

7:01 - Seriously though, this is a cool moment. You can see that Malcolm isn’t sure how he feels about Vijay. Dani sees it too....ALSO can we get some more info about this boarding school? Was it in New York? Was it only for high school? Did Malcolm come home on weekends? How did Malcolm’s nightmares work in the dorms?! I HAVE QUESTIONS. 

7:17 - And here comes Papa Gil. Calling Malcolm loudly by his preferred name. As a subtle reminder to Malcolm that they’re working AND a subtle shot at Vijay the douchebag.

7:40 - I’ll say it. When the killer lifts up his visor it looks like Vijay. I spent most of this episode convinced that Vijay was the killer.

8:44 - Ugh. When Vijay (or anyone really) winks I just want to deck them. It’s so freaking gross. I hate him more and more with every passing moment. 

8:46 - hahaha this interaction between Gil and Malcolm is everything. Malcolm looks embarrassed, ashamed, and a little scared. Gil just looks concerned that Malcolm is falling for this dude’s act again. 

9:05 - hahaha guessing JT’s name is my favourite running gag on this show. Dani knows it - look at her face. AND Malcolm he just looks so happy to have a game to play with JT. JT even looks happy about it. It’s so cute. Malcolm is acting like the annoying little brother he is. 

9:20 - Inserting yourself into a murder is a RED FLAG that usually indicates the perpetrator right? ....why are we not investigating this douche?

9:30 - Dani and JT do not like Vijay. OMG. They’re both throwing sarcastic insults Vijay’s way. I assume it’s partially because Vijay is acting like a pompous jerk and trying to do their jobs for them. It’s probably also because they heard him be a dick to Malcolm at the crime scene. Dude wasn’t quiet. 

10:30 - “Please stop.” I honestly think Malcolm only said that because Gil was watching from the doorway (like the protective dad he is). Something tells me that Malcolm’s self-worth is so low that he would’ve just let Vijay keep talking until it was safe to leave if Gil wasn’t there.

11:05 - Again. Mr. David isn’t looking into the room. Why?

11:18 - Why does Martin know about Vijay? For some reason it upsets me to think that Malcolm and Martin talked about anything other than murder. 

12:07 - FINALLY. The epiphany of a lifetime. Malcolm has finally realized that his trust issues stem from his father. Ugh. It only took 20 years of therapy and the reappearance of Vijay. 

12:25 - I hate that Martin refuses to acknowledge that he caused Malcolm any pain. Every parent makes mistakes because no human being is perfect. Good parents sometimes cause their children emotional pain unintentionally but they at least acknowledge it. More proof that Martin is scum. 

12:51 - A couple of things. 1) I am so proud of Malcolm. Did you see the way he threw Gil in his dad’s face?!? Gold. Genius. 10/10. A+. BUT 2) The look on Martin’s face in reaction to Gil’s name (and Malcolm’s obvious respect and love for Gil) terrifies me. I’m so scared that Martin is going to find a way to injure/kill Gil. I’m terrified that he’s going to make Malcolm watch. 

13:55 - So...we’re all just going to pretend that this is medically possible? Ok. ALSO why is no one concerned about Dani?!?! All the victims have been pretty, young women with dark, curly hair. THAT IS DANI. Why has no one said anything?!? This episode would’ve been so much better if she was kidnapped and the team had to save her. 

14:30 - Gil throwing shade at Vijay. <3 Also - look at the way Gil looks at Malcolm when he leaves the room. It’s a look that says “Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t trust this guy.”

14:40 - Vijay called Malcolm “Whitly” again. I’m so mad. I will scream. 

15:40 - Vijay is a bad influence on Malcolm. I don’t like this. Malcolm is blackmailing a surgeon and making calls to his father for advice on blackmail. No no. Get Gil back in here - he’s a good influence. 

17:00 - ....why does Malcolm know the stats on facial blindness off the top of his head? 

18:15 - Gil and Malcolm don’t trust Vijay. Look at those faces. 

19:04 - Look at how hard Malcolm is trying to mask his pain here. Ugh. My heart is breaking. 

19:15 - Is Vijay really trying to blame this on Malcolm? Vijay is totally manipulating Malcolm. Malcolm is being super honest and aware of his short-comings and Vijay is using him. I hate it. 

20:20 - Aww.. Malcolm can’t cook (of course he can’t - boy barely eats). Why is this information still exciting to me? AND Malcolm with rolled up sleeves is attractive. Look at those forearms. ALSO he’s wearing a black watch now. This makes sense though because last we saw of his brown watch was in 1x10. When Watkins had him chained up the watch was gone. I assume it was destroyed in 1x11. This is the new watch? I assume? My headcannon is still that Malcolm doesn’t have more than 2 watches. 

20:35 - I feel really bad for Malcolm here. He’s trying so hard to make things right with Eve. He looks so nervous. 

20:47 - Soooo Eve isn’t looking for an apology? She’s looking to “talk about his problems”. Yo. Even if I didn’t like Eve before - I wouldn’t like her now. I’m getting the “I can fix him” vibe from her. Those relationships are never healthy. 

21:45 - I hate Eve but I will admit: I love that she told Malcolm it wasn’t his fault. That he was just a kid. People don’t tell him that enough. Plus, look at how anxious and sad he is when he tells Eve about the gitb. Ugh. My heart is shattering. 

22:30 - Does Gil ever go home? Why is he still at the office? ....also the man has his phone enabled to track Malcolm?!? hahahaha that is perfect. How much do you want to bet that that started after Watkins?

23:20 - Malcolm’s hair is a mess again. It’s time for manic, reckless Malcolm to appear. 

23:40 - Malcolm is angry at Vijay. Check out that shade he’s throwing. I’m so happy.

24:50 - Is Vijay paying for the watches out of pocket? Or is his company paying? Either way - not a fan. 

26:26 - Jessica is a vicious woman. I love her. “I should call Gil.” BUT now I’m even more scared that Martin will try to hurt Gil. 

28:45 - Do you know how I know that Malcolm is a good person? Vijay is a jerk to Malcolm. Malcolm doesn’t like Vijay. Yet, Malcolm saves Vijay. 

30:02 - I love this outburst of Malcolm’s. I see in hindsight how it was a coded message. However, I think it was also just a straight shot at Vijay. Malcolm’s smart enough to do both at once. I like Malcolm standing up for himself. It’s sweet. 

35:15 - I hate this. I hate that Malcolm’s subconscious tries to convince him that he’s a serial killer.  Yes - Malcolm is capable of manipulation. However - he does need friends and he isn’t a killer. Ugh. I feel so bad for Malcolm. Someone give this boy a hug. 

38:35 - Malcolm is high on adrenaline and mania right now. He has a concussion. He’s not thinking straight....but it is nice to see him so happy. Too bad it’s like watching someone you love fall into the wrong crowd though. 

39:10 - Was Vijay under arrest? He should be. Gil should do it on principle. Because Vijay almost got our favourite profiler killed. 

39:50 - I’m sorry. Doesn’t everyone know about Jessica’s search for the gitb?!? SHE BROADCASTED IT ON LIVE TV. She just didn’t call her the gitb. 

40:51 - WTF. WTF. No. No. I don’t like Eve. This was such a messed up, stupid thing to do. I don’t even feel bad for her. I just hate her for playing the Whitlys. 

Thanks for hanging out.

[taeguboi]

🔀Shuffle Game🔀 Request 01

Hey! Could u do 🔀 6 with Namjoon please? Thank u in advance :)

🔀 Drop a number + BTS member(s) in my ask box 🔀

Request: 6 + Namjoon Song: EIGHT by IU & Suga Theme: Angst // Lockdown

Fiction Masterlist

On Hold, Hold On

On hold. Every little thing is on hold. Plans, life… even love to an extent. On hold from work, on hold on the phone, on hold with your plans to move in with your boyfriend. So there you sit, same shit, different day, feeling increasingly distanced from the world as you knew it.

You used to get so frustrated at how there was never enough time to stop and contemplate life, but now… it’s scary how unaccomplished you feel, how you’ve barely achieved any of those goals you had as a teenager… That was nice, that age where you could make memories and carefully plan new ones…

Reminiscing and ignoring the world outside had become your mindset over the past couple of months, particularly over the past week in which you had been ignoring phone calls and not responding much to texts. A certain sense of fear had overcome you in a roundabout way to communicate with your boyfriend. It hurts more and more with every day that you can’t see him, so your brain seems to have gone into some sort of shut down mode whenever he reaches out to you.

Everything was planned out so perfectly. You had finally bagged a job you were happy in and a partner with whom you could share your best and worst moments. This has become the ultimate test, trying to break you with every second that passes. You’ve resorted to reruns of old tv shows that you used to watch with childhood and school friends, reading back on old diary entries of your college years and watching back on your old social media uploads of getting drunk or going on holiday or just being nuts for the sake of it.

This distance from your boyfriend feels like it is lasting forever with no end in sight. Some days you wake up and can’t even remember what he feels like to hug, the scent you would breathe in when in his arms… His voice is only just about a solid memory in your head. You’ve never been more disheartened in your life. Nothing is happening. You feel… so empty.

Without wanting to admit it to yourself, this is the time you need him the most… But you find that everything you do lately is just a sad attempt to push him away… Why?

Namjoon: Morning my lovely :)

Your heart continues to sink at the morning greeting presented in text, not in person. With every text he sends you, the more you’re longing to be by his side and so the more you try to distract yourself every time just so that it might hurt less.

You: Morning :)

Closed answers are often your responses to him as of late; you’re afraid of the conversations about your life and plans and all the rest. It’s getting too depressing now. You wince at the conversations about available houses or flats because there’s no signal that your time apart will end and it feels like your efforts on saving money up are wasted. You feel your heart beat faster every time on a phone call, he wants to look back on a particular time you had together because you’re devastated that that still can’t be you right now, living in the moment, making memories.

Namjoon: How are you?

You: Okay I guess. You?

You wonder how long it will take for him to notice your decrease in enthusiasm for the relationship that you’ve become to fearful to think about. You want to snap out of it, knowing how ridiculous it must seem to feel so fragile and delicate about life. But you can’t. All you want to do when you’re texting him is go do something else. Not because you don’t love him but because it hurts to love someone you can’t see.

Namjoon: I’m alright too, thanks. Wanna call?

You let out an exasperated sigh whilst lounging around on the couch, knowing that you can’t avoid this forever; you had rejected his suggestions to have a phone call for the past few days armed with one excuse or another.

You: Sure

The minute you answer his call, you vividly memorise everything you know about him. You think about his favourite spot in his house and how he’s probably sitting there right now just to talk to you with the book he was probably reading discarded at his side to have his attention on your voice.

“Hey” you utter.

“Hey sweetheart… it’s been a few days” he nervously chuckles from the other end of the line. 

“Yeah, I suppose it has… Sorry about that” you reply.

Yesterday you told him how much of a nightmare it was to get the weekly shop in as you scrambled your cupboard which barely held anything in there. The day before that you told him you were going for a long walk to embrace the nature when after you had sent that message, you just sat at home all day. The day before that… well it all goes similarly really. Different excuse, same reason.

“How are you doing? I mean, really. You seem a bit off lately” he says, making you feel low. Like you had already expected, you knew at some point he was going to pick up on your behaviour change.

You struggle to find a proper response, just babbling nervously about how busy you’ve managed to make your life.

“Oh, well you know how it is. You look for something to do, can’t find anything, then several things come at once” you lie. “Like buses” you jest to make light of the conversation, still feeling the need to keep up appearances.

Namjoon chuckles at your flustered reply. 

“It’s okay to be feeling a little down, y/n. Talk to me” he tells you. Wow, he really does know you well, you think to yourself. As far as you’re concerned, you hadn’t let out one clear signal that something is up, yet he just knows.

You let out a sigh to prepare yourself as you feel a pent up storm coming on.

“I’m just fed up I guess”

“I miss you too hun”

Those words bring a stinging sensation to your eyes. You miss him too, but you’ve been having a hard time admitting that out loud. All you’ve felt like you can do it hide from it all until this all blows over. Time is very powerful though.

“I hate this so badly” you admit, bringing your forehead into your hand before brushing back your hair in frustration. “I just wanted so badly to start a life with you and have our own place and… It’s been so long; it’s starting to feel like a wasted effort, what, with both our jobs on hold and only reduced pay as an income and that might not even hold out as long as this…”

“I know things aren’t quite working out as we had hoped but… we’ll get there soon, yeah?” he tries to assure you, but you’re feeling so pessimistic that you can’t seem to accept this.

“But we aren’t there now, as we should have been!” you exclaim almost with a sob. “Right now, we would have already found our perfect first place together and have all the time for us we could ever wish for… I feel so lost. It’s kind of rocking my world.”

“It’s not ideal, I know but… let’s not dwell on the present yeah? Let’s try to remain positive and take every day as it comes…”

“It’s not quite feeling that easy right now” you huff. “I just want to go back to when things felt simpler, you know. Okay, I mean, they weren’t simple but… How do I explain? It’s like having a more complicated life with important things to focus on actually made life easier. It certainly made it easier to live with my mind. I’m going nuts here Joon”

“We’re all on the same boat my lovely” he continues, still trying to sway you another way with your mental state. “We have to make the best out of a tough situation; the past will never come back to us, so we have to play the hand we’ve been dealt, you know?”

A part of you knows your boyfriend is speaking perfect sense. Another part of you still can’t shirk this feeling off though of hopelessness and feeling like you’re living a life without purpose or ambition. He’s got such a brilliant mind and his way with words is so amazing that he doubles up as a therapist as well as the best boyfriend you’ve ever had… Even his words of logic are making you pine for him even more.

“I guess I wish I had a winning card up my sleeve to cheat this thing” you sigh, using Namjoon’s little card analogy.

“We all have to lose before we win” he bluntly responds, being correct again.

“Don’t you just wish you could be like younger right now though? I bet none of the kids around here are exactly complaining that they don’t have to get dressed in clothes they despise every day to listen to teacher that talk about things they aren’t interested in…”

“Maybe you should also consider though that those kids do enjoy certain aspects of it all though, such as seeing their friends and going to their after school clubs… Everyone has something to miss right now.”

Maybe you are dwelling too much, playing the martyr or something. Everybody is experiencing the same dilemmas right now. Everybody else has been stopped from seeing people they love. Everybody has had to put their plans and their worlds on hold too… You never stopped to consider that there are also many people who have it a lot worse than you do.

“Am I being selfish Joon?” you question following your little epiphany.

“Of course not, dear! Sure, there are people a lot more directly affected right now, but… you haven’t experienced those things so this is allowed to be a big deal to you because this is the worst you know or can imagine”

Strangely, you found yourself feeling… better? Some aspects are starting to be put into perspective for you. Not everything, but it’s something.

“I just don’t want to look back on my time being this age as someone who was only fatigued and fed up… I think that’s why I do the dwelling on the past thing” you admit, opening up some more.

“And that’s exactly why we need to make the most of it… How about we start by thinking of ways we could do the things we used to do together without actually being together in person?”

“You mean just video call each other whilst we eat? Isn’t that a bit weird?” you laugh.

“Okay, maybe not that…” he hums. “But you know, maybe we could occasionally share what we’re up to… Maybe you could take me around the park the next time you go?”

It’s actually not a bad idea. Every time you’ve been out for your daily walk, if you do even go on one, you have always missed that element of conversation or just someone else’s presence around. A couple of days back actually, you had seen some wonderful things because of the time of year and wouldn’t it actually be so much better if you had someone to share that with?

“Hey, don’t put yourself down because you didn’t get to do something you wanted to… Whether that’s our plans to live together or that you didn’t do the laundry today.”

“Wait, how did you know I haven’t done that yet?” you giggle.

“Just an example, love… wild coincidence” he chuckles back. 

“Try not to let it get you down when sometimes you build something up only for it to be broken down my love… Live in the here and now so that you can look back on these times almost as fondly as you look back on before”

Your smile extends from cheek to cheek. It might take some healing, but you can do this; you have Namjoon.

A/N: Sorry if I didn’t quite capture the essence of the song... in my defence, it’s only been out for like 2 days haha. Hope everyone is keeping well x

Fiction Masterlist

[creepingsharia]

He Simply “Hates Christians”: Muslim Persecution of Christians, January 2020

By Raymond Ibrahim

The following are some of the abuses Muslims inflicted on Christians, categorized by theme, throughout the month of January, 2020:

The Slaughter of Christians in Nigeria

During several separate incidents, militant Muslims—whether Fulani herdsmen, Boko Haram, or generic terrorists—continued to attack and massacre several Christians.

As one example, on Friday, January 17, Muslim Fulani tribesmen on motorbikes raided a Christian village at a time they knew people were congregating at the village square where Christian fellowship often took pace. They opened fire.   “As the people fled into nearby bushes to take cover, the attackers retreated and left,” an area resident explained. “We are sad about these attacks on our people, which seem to be unending.” Two young Christian girls—Briget Philip, 18, and Priscilla David, 19—were killed, and at least three other teenagers were seriously wounded.

In another incident, “[a]t least 32 people [including a pregnant woman] were killed and a pastor’s house and church building were burned down in two nights of attacks [on predominantly Christian regions] this week by Muslim Fulani herdsmen in Plateau state,”  a January 30 report noted.

In the early hours of January 20, gunmen invaded the Lutheran Church of Christ, where its pastor, the Rev. Dennis Bagauri, lived; they opened fire on “and shot him dead at night when all persons in the area had gone to sleep,” a local confirmed.

Boko Haram (whose name roughly means “Western education is a sin”) released another execution video.  In it, a masked Muslim child holding a pistol appears standing behind a bound and kneeling hostage, later identified as Ropvil Daciya Dalep, a 22-year-old Christian and member of the Church of Christ in Nations, who was kidnapped on January 9 while traveling to his university, where he majored in biology.  After chanting in Arabic and launching into an anti-Christian diatribe, the Muslim child proceeds to shoot Ropvil several times in the back of the head.

Execution of Ropvil Daciya Dalep.

On January 2, Islamic gunmen abducted Reverend Lawan Andimi, a pastor and district chairman of the Church of the Brethren in Nigeria. After the terrorists demanded an exorbitant ransom for his release—two million Euros, which his church and family simply could not raise—they beheaded the married father-of-nine on January 20.   Earlier, in a January 5 video that his abductors released, Pastor Lawan had said that he  hoped to be reunited with his wife and children; however, “[i]f the opportunity has not been granted, maybe it is the will of God.  I want all people close and far, colleagues, to be patient. Don’t cry, don’t worry, but thank God for everything.”

In a statement prompted by all these unchecked killing of Christians, Kwamkur Vondip, the director of legal and public affairs of the Christian Association of Nigeria, blasted the Muslim-led government of Nigeria of “colluding” with the Islamic terrorists:

In the light of the current developments and the circumstantial facts surrounding the prevailing upsurge of attacks against the church, it will be difficult for us to believe that the federal government under President Muhammadu Buhari is not colluding with the insurgents to exterminate Christians in Nigeria, bearing in mind the very questionable leadership of the security sector that has been skewed towards a religion and region.  Is that lopsidedness not a cover-up for the operation of the insurgency?.…  Since the government and its apologists are claiming the killings have no religious undertones, why are the terrorists and herdsmen targeting the predominantly Christian communities and Christian leaders?

The nonstop massacres of Christians which are met with impunity from the Nigerian government also prompted Bishop Matthew Hassan Kukah of Sokoto to express his disgust with the government in a January 3 report: “The only difference between the government and Boko Haram,” he said, “is that Boko Haram is holding a bomb.” The Nigerian government is “using the levers of power to secure the supremacy of Islam, which then gives more weight to the idea that it can be achieved by violence.”

The Slaughter of Christians Elsewhere in Africa

Kenya: Armed Muslims connected with neighboring Somalia’s terrorist group, Al Shabaab (“the youth”), murdered three Christian teachers during a raid on a primary school in the early hours of January 13; a fourth victim managed to survive.

Another local teacher said “We are sad and at the same time scared because we are targeted for being non-local government workers that belong to the Christian faith.” While discussing this incident, a separate report adds that

Today’s attack comes against the backdrop of a series of attacks from the terrorist group in the last five weeks, leading to the loss of 25 people total … On December 6, 2019, four teachers were among the 11 non-local Christian passengers killed … when al-Shabaab flagged down the bus they were traveling in. The militants separated the passengers and killed those on the spot who failed to recite the Islamic Shahada.

Central African Republic: Militant Muslims shot and killed two Christian pastors as they travelled together by car after having conducted a Christmas Day church service. According to the January 6 report, after murdering the Christians, the “jihadists” continued “shooting, preventing efforts to recover the bodies. The men had to be buried later at the scene of the attack.”  The report adds that the “Christian-majority Central African Republic has been blighted by violence since 2013, when the Seleka Islamist armed group briefly overthrew the government….  Christian communities continue to be the targets of attacks….  In November 2018, more than 40 people were killed and many were forced to flee when members of an Islamist militia attacked a Christian mission in Alindao.

Cameroon:  “Not a day passes without attacks on the villages on Cameroon’s frontier with Nigeria,” lamented Bishop Bruno Ateba  in reference to the Islamic terror group, Boko Haram’s increased incursions into Christian villages in a January 24 report:  “Boko Haram is like the beast of the Apocalypse, or a many-headed Hydra—whenever you cut off one of its heads, it seems simply to grow another….  Within my own diocese there have been 13 attacks in the last weeks.”  One of those attacks saw a church torched on the feast of the Epiphany.  “We are still investigating who was behind the incident, but everything points to the fact that it was a terrorist attack.”  Bishop Barthélemy also shared his experiences: “My birthplace, the village of Blablim, no longer exists.  The terrorists have murdered a young man of my family and totally devastated the entire village, including the house I was born in. Everybody, with the exception of the sick and elderly, was forced to flee to Mora, 10 miles away. It will be impossible now to gather in the cotton harvest.”

Egypt:  On January 12, a Muslim man crept up behind a Christian woman walking home with groceries, pulled her head back with a hand full of hair, and slit her throat with a knife in the other hand.  Nearby people restrained the man in al-Wariq, Giza, where the incident took place.  Catherine Ramzi was rushed to a nearby medical center, where her throat was sewn with 63 stitches; despite initial heavy bleeding, she managed to survive.  The doctor told her that had the knife penetrated one millimeter more—her now mangled sweatshirt had provided some buffering against the knife—it would have reached her jugulars and killed her.  During an interview, she explained that she had never before seen the man.  All she heard him say during the assault is that she “deserved it” because her “hair was exposed.”  He may have also identified her as a Christian because, like many Copts, Catherine bears a visible tattoo of the cross on her hand.

Separately, on January 14, in the region of al-Maraj, another Muslim man tried to slaughter a Christian man with a sharp box-cutter in a public space.  He managed only to slice off a portion of the Copt’s ear.  After Muhammad ‘Awad, 32,  was arrested and questioned as to why he tried to murder Rafiq Karam, 56, he confessed that he did not know him, but that he simply “hates Christians.”

Attacks on Christian Churches

Sudan:  Three churches—a Sudan Internal church, a Catholic church and an Orthodox church—were simultaneously burnt down twice over the course of three weeks in the Blue Nile state.  The arsonists are suspected to be area Muslims.  According to a January 20 statement from a human rights group published in the Sudan Tribune,

On the evening of 28th December 2019, three churches in three different neighbourhoods … were set on fire (burnt) at the same time by arsonists.  The worshipers quickly rebuild the three churches using the local materials as it was before.  However, for the second time, on the evening of 16th January, the arsonists burnt down the three churches,” said the group….  [L]ocal authorities did not take any measure to protect the churches or to investigate the attacks.

“This incident is true, the three churches were set on fire twice in less than a month,” a local pastor confirmed, adding that “area Muslims were upset about the presence of the churches there, and they are suspected in the fires.”

Philippines: On January 19, police arrested two Muslim men from the Islamic terror group Abu Sayyaf (“the sword-forger”) before they could carry out a planned bomb attack on a Catholic cathedral in Basilan, which both men confessed to.  Explosive materials—including more than 3 kilos (6.6 pounds) of assorted nails, blasting caps, 1.5-volt batteries, and wires—were recovered from their hideout. Abu Sayyaf earlier “masterminded a twin bombing at a church on southern Jolo island in January 2019 that left more than 20 people dead.”

Egypt:  “The security apparatus prevented Copts in Faw Bahri … from holding the New Year’s Eve prayer on Tuesday, 31 December, in the home of a local Copt. Several Copts gathered in the building and complained about being prohibited from completing the prayer,” the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights, a Cairo based think tank with an emphasis on human rights, said in a January 6 press release:

The building that security shut down and prevented prayer inside of is owned by a village Copt and has been used for worship services for four months [and apparently set on fire before for this reason]. Security promised to rapidly secure a building permit for a new church on a 460-meter tract of land purchased by the church a while back. All the necessary surveys have been conducted by official bodies and a wall was built around the plot. All that is needed to start construction is the permits. The closest church to the village is 10 km away….  3,000 Christians live in the village and used to pray at the house that was shuttered by security. They are all waiting for security to keep its promise to issue permits for the construction of a new church.

The Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights (EIPR) further criticized the “glacial pace” of the Sisi-government’s hitherto much lauded church construction law adopted in September 2016.  More than “three years after its adoption, the church construction law has failed to end violations of Christians’ right to worship and address related sectarian tensions….  [T]he process to regularize the legal status of churches is moving at a glacial pace and lacks transparency,” the press release added:

The EIPR has documented at least 36 cases of sectarian tension and violence since the church construction law went into effect and through the end of 2019, all of them associated with the worship practices. In the same period, interventions by various state institutions led to the closure of 25 churches and the prohibition of collective worship services in the areas in question. In many of these cases, customary reconciliation sessions were convened that concluded with agreements to shut down the church while promising to grant the necessary permits when papers were officially filed. Yet, when church officials applied for official permits, state agencies refused to grant permits or allow them to organize religious services or mass.

Indonesia: Construction of the Bethel Church of Indonesia (GBI) My Home church, plans for which began in 2016, was “abruptly halted” after its building permit was revoked.  The church would have served 1,200 registered congregants.  In response, on January 16, Amnesty International Indonesia in a statement urged the authorities to annul their decision to revoke the permit:

This is a clear case of persecution and discrimination against a religious minority. The authorities in Tanjungpinang have failed to provide any legal justification for denying this permit and blatantly disregarded the Constitution and their obligations to respect the right to religious freedom and ensure equal enjoyment of human rights.

In a separate case in the same in the region, Muslims halted construction of another church.  According to the January 24 report,

Built in 1928, St Joseph’s Catholic Church needs to be renovated and enlarged. Originally it could accommodate 100 people, but now it has more than 700 members. Despite having all the permits, the project is opposed by a small group of young Muslims who threaten action against public order….  Local Catholics are critical of Karimun district chief who, bowing to extremists, has turned against the project even though it has all the required permits.

Although area Christians had “explained to Karimun officials [that] there will be no symbol or ornament outside the church; no cross, no statue, no image of Mary will be displayed visible outside the church”; and although this decision by the Christians was taken reluctantly, as it would make the building look like “a gym or a conference hall”—Muslims still rejected the church.

France: A suspected Muslim man was arrested for desecrating a church, including by writing Koran verses on its walls.  According to the January 16 report,

The arrest comes just under a year after another church in Toulouse, the Notre-Dame du Taur, was vandalised by an individual who wrote “Allah u Akbar” on the doors of the building….  Church attacks in France have become a major issue in the last several years, with a report from March of last year claiming that there are as many as three attacks on churches or graveyards per day on average, with a total of 1,063  cases in 2018.

One recent attack “saw human faeces smeared into prayer books at a church in the commune of Tarbes.”

Sweden: After a series of arson attacks on St. Maria Syrian Orthodox Church—one of which was started by someone pouring and lighting gasoline to its exterior—church members have begun to patrol its premises at night in the hopes of preventing further attacks.  The January 10 report adds that, “Church attacks in Sweden are relatively uncommon in general but attacks on communities targetted by radical Islamic Sunni extremists, such as Syrian Christians and Shi’ite Muslims, are a concern in the country.”

Attacks on Apostates and Blasphemers

 Iran:  A court sentenced Ismaeil Maghrebinejad, 65, a Muslim convert to Christianity, to three years imprisonment on the charge of “insulting Islamic sacred beliefs,” said human rights group Middle East Concern in a January 22 report.  The Christian was initially charged with “propaganda against the state and insulting the sacred Iranian establishment,” but during “a hearing on 22 October, the judge further accused Ismaeil of apostasy [that is, turning away from Islam, which is a capital crime according to some interpretations of Islamic law] and increased bail demands from 10 million to 100 million tomans (US$9000). Friends provided pledges to cover the bail demands.  There were further hearings in November (when the apostasy charge was dropped), December and January.”  On January 8, he was found guilty of “insulting Islamic sacred beliefs in cyberspace”—a reference to the claim that “Ismaeil had forwarded a message sent to his phone that was deemed to be insulting to the ruling Iranian clerics”—and sentenced to three year imprisonment.  According to a human rights activist associated with the case, the sentence is  “a disproportionate reaction to something so ordinary. The other charges that Ismaeil is facing, as well as the quashed charge of apostasy, (are) related to his conversion to Christianity. This may reveal the real reason why he’s been charged with something that most ordinary Iranians do on a daily basis.”

Pakistan:  Muslims beat and falsely accused a Christian man, Shahbaz Masih, 40, of blasphemy, which led to his and his friend’s arrest.  According to the January 14 report,

His [Muslim] accusers, Shahzaib and Ahmad, hold a grudge against him for being a Christian. On 27 December the two surrounded him at the market, dragged him to a nearby landfill where children collect paper, and beat [him there].  His screams drew the attention of his friend Ishaq [a moderate Muslim], who came to his aid. At that point, the attackers accused both of blasphemy, of burning pages of the Qurʼān. A riot followed, with a nearby mosque calling on Muslims to kill both men. When police arrived, it took the two friends to a police station, questioned them and moved them to a prison, where they are still being held.  Human rights groups slam the cops for giving in to extremist pressure and formally recording the case.  For their part, radicals threatened to burn the homes of Christians as well as that of the Muslim man, “guilty” of being friends with the Christian. For this reason, the families of the accused went into hiding at an unknown location.

Generic Hate for and Violence against Christians

Egypt:  Muslim students at a Minya school “rejected” Mervat Seifein, a school teacher, “for the explicit reason that she is Copt,” that is, a Christian, a report noted.  After “a routine promotion in which she replaced the previous school director who is a Muslim,” both boy and girl “students protested and held a sit-in in the school courtyard asking for her removal.”  “We don’t want a Copt!” they cried. Some Muslim teachers joined in the protests.  Police were unable to disperse the boys’ demonstration in the courtyard. “The girls who demonstrated against me don’t know me,” Mervat responded, “so why the antagonism? Simply because I am Coptic? The only explanation I can fathom is there has been fanatic incitement going on against my promotion, possibly by persons who are purely extremist or who have an interest in keeping me out of that post.”  Ezzat Ibrahim, a human rights activist, added that a prompt official investigation should be conducted into the matter:

This is flagrant religious discrimination.  It brings to mind the incident in the southern province of Qena when the Islamists rose against the appointment of a Coptic governor in the past-Arab Spring weeks in 2011, and the State gave in and went back on the appointment.  It is catastrophic that some 50 or 100 teenage girls or boys should impose their will on the State. And it is equally disastrous that these students were pushed to do so by a group of fanatic Islamists. The positive official response to their preposterous demands amounts to an invitation for religious discrimination. The deputy minister who did that must be dismissed.

Bangladesh: Twelve Christian Rohingya refugees from Myanmar were attacked and injured by Muslim Rohingya “due to their faith.”   (Rohingya are overwhelmingly Muslim).  “[E]arly Monday [January 27, they] attacked us, the Christians. They looted our houses, and beat up many Christian members. At least 12 Christians have been undergoing treatment at different hospitals and clinics,” a Christian named Saiful reported. “We came under attack due to our faith,” he insisted. “On May 10, 11, and 13 last year, this same group of terrorists attacked us. They want us to leave this camp. They have been attacking us systematically.”  Although official Bangladeshi reports denied or underplayed the religious dimension of the attacks, other sources, such as the Rohingya Christian Assembly from India, confirmed them: Muslim Rohingya “attacked the whole Christian community in Kutupalong Camp,” the group said. “Approximately 25 Christian families are displaced. It is winter and very cold, the victims have many minor children with them.” The group added that mobs armed with machetes—“hundreds in many groups”—invaded and destroyed every Christian home at night.

Iraq:  Four Christian humanitarian aid workers—three French, one Iraqi—were kidnapped in Baghdad on January 20.  No ransom demands were made.  According to the report, “The four went missing during a time of heightened tensions in Iraq after a U.S. drone strike on Baghdad airport that killed Iranian Gen. Qassem Soleimani and a senior Iraqi militia commander, Abu Mahdi al-Muhandis. The attack has drawn anger from Iraqi officials from across the political divide ….  Iran-backed militia groups have also sworn to avenge the killings.”

Iran:  Authorities demolished the grave of the only Christian to be officially executed for apostasy in the Islamic republic.  A born Muslim, Pastor Soodmand converted to Christianity before the 1979 revolution.  He was arrested, tortured, and eventually executed for apostatizing from Islam to Christianity in December 1990.  Now, thirty years later, “all that remains of the pastor’s unmarked grave is the soil under which he was once buried.”  His daughter, Rashin Soodmand, who now lives in Europe, gave her reaction:

As a member of the family of this martyred pastor, I can say that the recent disrespect shown to our father’s grave wounded our hearts yet again.  Our father was killed cruelly and contrary to the law. They buried him in a place they called la’anatabad [accursed place], without our knowledge, and did not even give our family the opportunity to say goodbye to him, or to see his lifeless body.  For years we had to travel to this remote place to visit his unmarked grave, and we were not even allowed to construct a gravestone bearing his name….  We will take our appeal to any relevant national or international institution about this disrespect and cruelty.

The report adds that,

Rev Soodmand remains the only Iranian Christian to have been executed for apostasy following an official court order, although others have been sentenced to death including Rev Mehdi Dibaj and Yousef Nadarkhani.  Rev Dibaj was eventually acquitted after nine years in prison but then killed in suspicious circumstances five months later. His body was found days after his disappearance, in a park in a suburb of Tehran, with multiple stab wounds to his chest.   Yousef Nadarkhani was also eventually acquitted of the charge but later rearrested on the now much more common charge of ‘actions against national security.’ He is now serving a ten-year sentence in Tehran’s Evin Prison.

Raymond Ibrahim, author of the recent book, Sword and Scimitar, Fourteen Centuries of War between Islam and the West, is a Distinguished Senior Fellow at the Gatestone Institute, a Shillman Fellow at the David Horowitz Freedom Center, and a Judith Rosen Friedman Fellow at the Middle East Forum.

About this Series

The persecution of Christians in the Islamic world has become endemic.  Accordingly, “Muslim Persecution of Christians” was developed in 2011 to collate some—by no means all—of the instances of persecution that occur or are reported each month. It serves two purposes:

1)          To document that which the mainstream media does not: the habitual, if not chronic, persecution of Christians.

2)          To show that such persecution is not “random,” but systematic and interrelated—that it is rooted in a worldview inspired by Islamic Sharia.

[enchantedlokii]

Coming Soon...

Projects in Progress: 33

Projects in Que: 1

Projects Posted This Week: 2

Most Popular Project Posted This Week (9.27.20-10.3.20): Demons Prologue

Cardigan

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peggy has just lost her closest allies after learning they were using her. She feels that she is finally alone in the world, and no one believes in her. She isn’t expecting a visit from someone from her past.

Together

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

For the first time since his accident, Rhodey gets a chance to talk to the rogue Avengers. After explaining what happened to Bruce, he realizes that someone is carrying guilt that he didn’t expect to.

That Don’t Sound Like You

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

In the same world as Delicate, Loki visits his former neighbor. He finds that she is unhappy, and tries to help her like she did for him several years earlier.

Not Without You

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Bucky has his memories back, but that hasn’t given him happiness. If anything, it’s made it worse. He finds himself carrying too much guilt, and he fears that he won’t be able to continue in his state.

Delicate Chapter Three: Neighbors

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Loki wakes up to a knock on his door. He is surprised to find a teenage girl who is eager to meet him and doesn’t seem scared by him. He’s even more shocked when she offers him help that he knows he will eventually need.

Calm

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter always loved to stargaze. It was something he rarely was able to do before his enhanced vision allowed him to see stars even with the New York lights shining below. He discovers that the only thing better is seeing them reflected on the lake outside the cabin that has become his second home.

Ride With Me

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Recovery isn’t easy for Rhodey. He’s forced to live a new life. One where he knows that he might never walk in. Meanwhile, the one person he wants to see gets himself injured in a fight and Rhodey is left alone with his thoughts.

Finding Home Chapter Three: Time

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter and Tony make it back to the cabin where Peter learns he has his own room. He’s running out of time before Ross finds his location, and he has to trust his mentor to keep him safe and away from the Raft.

Boom

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Rhodey knows that his best friend’s family has a lot of money. He also knows that, because of this, his best friend has a lot of enemies. What he doesn’t know is he will find himself in the crossfires when he goes to visit.

Trapped

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter is finally given the chance to join a real Avengers mission. Sure, he doesn’t actually get to fight, but that doesn’t stop him from getting himself into trouble.

Meet Me Inside

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

When Coulson gets a text from Clint asking to pick him up, he is not expecting to see the Black Widow he was sent to kill helping him onto the jet. His confusion and anger, however, is nothing compared to the reaction from Nick Fury.

Warmth

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

After a bad day at school, Peter finds comfort in spending time with his adoptive parents. He had already determined that Tony and Pepper really do care for him, but now he has all the proof that he needs.

Peace

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Tony and Pepper have only been back together for a few months. He knows that he doesn’t want it to end again. Not ever. He only worries that she doesn’t feel the same way. But he understands, because he knows that she will never truly be safe with him.

Epiphany

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Bucky is frantic when he pulls Steve from the Potomac River. His friend is dying, and he knows it. He doesn’t know Sam, but he knows that Steve trusts him. What he doesn’t expect is for Sam to invite him along.

Poison

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Tony doesn’t see anything wrong with inviting Peter to a party. He knows that the boy would never do anything he wasn’t supposed to. What he doesn’t think about is the fact that Peter isn’t the one he has to worry about causing problems.

Core Memories

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Loki struggles after the Battle of Earth. He wants to believe that Thor and the others trust him, but he knows that they could never. He knows that no one loves him. The proof is implanted in his core memories.

Spots

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to admit to Tony that he wasn’t born a boy. He plans to tell him eventually, really, but Mother Nature has another idea.

Can’t Trick Me

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter calls Happy after waking up in a holding facility in the Netherlands. When it’s not Happy that comes out of the jet, he is sure that it’s Beck trying to trick him again.

“I Quit”

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

After several incidents where it seems no one cares for Spider-Man, Peter decides to quit. Too ashamed, he stops going to the Tower and cuts Tony off completely. What does it take to change his mind?

Grade Point Average

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

When Peter’s GPA drops, so does his sleep. He knows it’s not healthy, but he also knows that he can’t continue going to Midtown if he doesn’t raise his grades. He sometimes forgets that his AI seems to know him better than he knows himself.

The Stars Still Shine

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Returning from Titan without Tony hurt Peter. It hurt even worse when Pepper takes him in and admits that she is pregnant. He knows that they have to be strong, for each other and for the unborn baby, but it’s not an easy task.

Not Good Enough

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter hates depression more than anything. Except himself. After a workshop session that just isn’t going well, he finally reaches his breaking point.

Cruel Summer

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter gets a last minute call from Pepper asking him to babysit a sick Morgan. He of course accepts, but he’s still dealing with his own demons after his experiences with Mysterio.

Stronger

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter is terribly injured after his fight with the Vulture. He tried to make it home on his own, but he soon realizes he can’t. Luckily, he gets a call from Happy that very well could have saved his life.

Wide Awake

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter had always had weird symptoms of the night and when he first woke up of the mornings. He always brushed it off as anxiety, but after staying with Tony, FRIDAY lets them know that something more severe is going on.

Priorities

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter and MJ have a whole weekend planned just to themselves. The only problem is, Peter is an Avenger. When he gets a call, he has to take it. Usually MJ doesn’t mind, but after breaking a promise, she forces Peter to make a decision.

The One

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

After Steve leaves and returns as an older man, Bucky is devastated. He doesn’t understand why his best friend and the man secretly loves left him. Sam tries to help him, but it’s an uphill battle for both of them.

Churning

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter doesn’t get sick often, but it does happen. He’s managed to get food poisoning, and May refuses to leave him home alone while she goes to work. There’s not many choices when it comes to who can stay with him.

Quarantine

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter knows that there’s a very low chance that he will catch the Coronavirus, but he worries about his non-enhanced friends and family. More than anything, he worries about his Aunt May, who works as a nurse. When Governor Cuomo puts the state in quarantine, Peter is forced to go without seeing his aunt for an unknown amount of time.

Stay For Lunch

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Steve, Natasha, and Scott decide to stay at the cabin for lunch. They don’t expect Morgan to start talking about the Civil War and Peter. They definitely don’t expect the secret that she reveals at the table.

A Bit Of A Problem

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

After a mission gone wrong, Tony is de-aged. He doesn’t remember anything after the age that he is reverted back to, and the rest of the Avengers are faced with an arrogant teenager who refuses to believe they are friends.

Don’t Look Down

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Steve and Bucky always promised “‘til the end of the line.” When Bucky falls from a train into a ravine, Steve knows there’s not much of a chance he survived. But he also knows that he can’t give up on his best friend.

Cyberbullies

Started: before 9.28.20

Last Edited: before 9.28.20

Peter is being targeted by cyberbullies on Twitter. He planned on keeping it a secret, but Tony finds out and is not happy about it. Cue passive-aggression.

[ettadunham]

A Buffy rewatch 6x04 Flooded

aka doubling down and not paying rent

Welcome to this dailyish text post series where I will rewatch an episode of Buffy and go on an impromptu rant about it for an hour. Is it about one hyperspecific thing or twenty observations? 10 or 3k words? You don’t know! I don’t know!!! In this house we don’t know things.

And today’s lukewarm take is that Willow and Tara should be paying rent, and Anya has a point. About everything.

(Okay, so I think that the Save draft button is actually broken on this website? Luckily I only got into a few paragraphs this time around, but I can’t believe that I’ll need to write out these posts in Word now. What’s next? Spellchecking? Proofreading? Planning and thought? Give me a break.)

Flooded among many other things is the first appearance of the Trio, our supposed Big Bad of the season, and… can I just say… I hate them so fucking much. Like, they truly and honestly make my skin crawl.

Of course, Warren is the worst of them, as we see even now, but they all joke about rape at least three times in this episode alone? And I’m calling those “jokes”, because the show is playing it for a comedic effect, as part of their ridiculous supervillain fantasy, which only makes it all worse.

On the other hand, I also kind of appreciate that these guys are our villains. Villains, who we will actually see put these words to action later on, and it’ll be sufficiently horrifying and repulsing. Which would be especially effective for an audience member who laughed at those earlier scenes before.

Now, while I feel like in today’s society, most of us don’t need that reminder, as we already know all too well what these groups of entitled young men insecure in their own masculinity are capable of, and how easy it is to radicalize them… I can see the argument that this might still come as a shocking revelation to some and a chance at self-evaluation. For me though, seeing the Trio’s plans of hypnotizing Buffy and making her their “sex bunny” played as some ridiculous gag is almost worse than their attempted rape and ensuing murder of Katrina in Dead Things.

Almost.

Speaking of Big Bads, villains and uncomfortable rape analogies… Willow is really out there, waving a red flag in Giles’ face now, huh. Giles blows off at her, sure. (And with good reason if we’re being honest.) But Willow threatens him. Giles’ face is a mix of a lot of things, but one of them is caution, and maybe even a bit of fear. He knows all too well where Willow could be headed.

(And then he just fucks right off to England without even leaving a note like “PS: Keep an eye on Willow, and don’t let her murder anyone. Unless it’s Warren. That bloke had it coming.”)

It’s not all bad though. Willow tries to support Buffy after her failed loan, and makes some terrible attempts to piss her off, just to make her feel something. Except that part of Willow’s concern for Buffy also comes from her unexamined guilt, and it only puts more pressure on Buffy to try and pretend that she’s fine in front of her friends.

Buffy is exhausted, and she tells Spike as much. She also asks why he’s always there when she’s miserable, which… girl… that’s called stalking. That’s why he’s always there when you’re alone and miserable. He’s been stalking you for a season now, and hasn’t even been subtle about it.

But for better or worse, it’s what Buffy needs right now. Not the stalking, but someone who she doesn’t feel any pressure with to pretend like she’s okay. Like she’s the old Buffy from before.

Previously with After Life, Buffy was asking for Giles and talked about missing him. Then, I commented that she might be thinking of him as someone that she could confide in. I think that that may still hold up, although it appears that once Giles is actually there, Buffy quickly assumes the same pretend position with him as the rest of the gang.

(Plus she already relieved that burden off her chest with Spike.)

It’s hard to explain Buffy’s logic here, because it’s something that I feel with her, rather than have the words to describe it. Part of it is surely that Buffy wants to protect her friends from the truth, but it’s also part of a larger narrative that she surrounded herself with. She also knows that she’s not the same, and that her friends noticed it. But if she doesn’t talk to them about it, that leaves her space to ignore it, ignore her trauma, her detachment, just as she’s trying to ignore her financial issues.

It’s classic self-sabotage and depression. At that stage where you don’t even want to admit that you have depression, because that implies that something’s wrong with you. And we are just not going to deal with that. Quick, let’s self-depreciate and make a joke about burning down the house for insurance.

Of course those financial issues would be better if someone paid rent for living there for potentially over 4 months now. Or at the very least had a discussion with Buffy about whether or not they should still live there.

Yes, we circled back to Willow again, but also Tara. This is certainly not a new hot take, but it is sort of baffling that these two don’t seem to contribute anything to Buffy’s financial situation despite living in her damn house. I get that most of Joyce’s insurance money just about covered the medical bills, but they also comment about the cost of living and… Those costs should have been covered by the adults living in the house, not by a finite and apparently very little amount of money Joyce left her daughters??

You definitely get the idea that the gang, and specifically Willow and Tara in this case, had absolutely no plans whatsoever beyond bringing Buffy back. They apparently expected Buffy to magically solve those finance issues when she was brought back, instead of… you know… thinking ahead about the teenager in the house, whose well-being they moved in for, I assume.

I initially was also just somewhat confused by the fact that they thought that pretending that Buffy was still alive was better than sending Dawn to live with her dad… But this rewatch reminded me that Hank Summers absolutely can’t be trusted to actually take in his own daughter, and Buffy even says so in an episode in season 5. They actually worry about how Dawn might be put into foster care if Buffy’s deemed unreliable as a guardian.

So, alright, I get it, they hoped that they could bring Buffy back anyway, but I can’t believe that apparently they didn’t even pay the bills out of their own pockets? They’re college students, sure, and that Tara obviously won’t get support from her family… But maybe, you know, take on a part-time job? And what about Willow’s family? Weird as a relationship she has with her parents, it’s still a relationship, so she could probably explain that she needs money to pay rent.

It’s just baffling. Even more so the fact that none of this is ever addressed, and Buffy keeps making increasingly sarcastic remarks about how everyone’s living in her house. Which points to her, Willow and Tara never having a discussion about whether or not they should move out or stay, now that she’s back.

On the other hand, there’s Dawn, and having three adults parenting her is probably better for now. Especially when she wants to do the research with them. Tara’s face is entirely too smug when Dawn opens a book despite her mom efforts, and is immediately greeted with some weird demon horn penis shit, or whatever.

(Which also reminds me of a s7 scene, where Dawn is having a slow epiphany of what Willow’s TMI involving tongue piercings imply, and Buffy’s like “Dawn needs to do a research thing!” How the turntables.)

Arguably the most reasonable person in this whole bunch is Anya though. When she proposes that Buffy should be charging for saving lives, everyone boos her. But you know what, that’s just a load of crap. And not just because that’s the entire premise of Angel the series.

Maybe there’s an idea here about how altruism can’t be done for profit, but if that’s the intention, then I’m once again calling bullshit. Apparently you either have a 9 to 5 job in order to pay the bills, and have food to eat – after which you’re happy to watch one (1) episode of television and write a nonsense text post about it, and definitely not go out to save the world if you also want to sleep. OR you can do the whole saving the world thing but also starve and lose your house to debt, I guess.

(The Spider-man comparison is also just weak, man. Peter Parker is a high school student for most of his stories. He has an aunt to take care of his finances, just like Buffy didn’t have to worry about finances in high school either.)

This also comes right back to the whole idea of how the Watcher’s Council is paying Watchers but not Slayers. Like, you know what, Giles. You could actually take care of this.

After all, you’re the one getting paid for Buffy’s work.

Oh, and bless Anya too for calling out Xander’s stalling and bullshit about their engagement. She’s right and she should say it.