#i'd probably be down with the idea of him being as young as canon suggests if it wasn't for that oops

[casualtydept]

i love the zeroskull age gap and i love skull face being young and cringe but i refuse to acknowledge canon's suggested timeframe for when he was born. i do not see it.

just. slap a few more years on there. this man was not 25 in snake eater. i know it's debatable whether he murdered stalin or whether we are misinterpreting what ocelot says but if he did then he sure as hell wasn't 13. he's not younger than literally everyone else in cipher who isn't ocelot or paz. you can't make me believe it

[those-weird-twolegs]

What If Scenarios

I asked the other mods to give me some kits or apprentices that died young, so that I could give some ideas on what I'd do with them instead:

Lynxkit of ThunderClan:

(Suggested by Mod Soda Pop)

Potential names: Lynxpatch or Lynxfang

She'd have Patchpelt as her mentor instead of father like canon... Tigerstar is probably her father here but I'm not exactly sure- She's close with her little sister Tawnypelt and the two look very alike! She and Swift aren't... too close. She's actually more friendly with Thornpaw and Fernpaw to contrast with Swift, Cloud and Bright- because I think its funny- She's a lot more studious and very hard headed. She sticks to her own ideals, she reminds me a lot of both her parents and Swiftpaw lmao. Also decided she should be Ferncloud's mate.

-patch suffix because of her mentor and -fang suffix because she's a good fighter and has a sharp tongue

-

Snowkit of ThunderClan:

(Suggested by Mod Eva)

Potential names: Snowmistle or Snowshine Snowkit beloved... I love the idea of Snowkit becoming a guard of sorts? Like someone who actively keeps watch. I think that's because I remember Smallear sounding an alarm I the first book and well- Snowkit's his son Brackenfur does train Snowkit tho cuz I like Brackenfur and I like their bond. Along with Speckletail helping them! Snowpaw very much looks up to his big sister Goldenflower and thinks she's really cool... I think it'd be interesting if he ends up in a cross clan relationship... and what if... maybe?? Stormfur or Feathertail?? I'm not sure who else is in that age range tbh-

-mistle suffix after his littermate and -shine after how he shone through Bluestar's reign and is kinda like a lighthouse shining the right direction ya know with him being a guard and stuff Also I just wanted something that wasn't hawk related and kinda matched with his siblings!

-

Willowkit of RiverClan:

(Suggested by Mod Dorito)

Potential names: Willowfall or Willowberry

Willowkit beloved ♡ She's the one I got most attached to as a kid. I imagine she's pretty quiet and basically the polar opposite of her sister with Silverpaw being a bit... stuck up (affectionate) Willowpaw is the type of person to give and give and be humble and kinda later have impostor syndrome... maybe it has to do with her mom- But she sorta eases up when Loudpaw and her start hanging out more... she's kinda like her rock and helps her ground herself when she's *really* spiraling, yes they become mates- I'm not sure who her mentor is here? Probably Sunfish tbh-

- Fall after windfalls... cuz she's the apple of her parents eye ya know? -Berry after... well... who other than Brambleberry ♡ Also cuz she's sweet like berries

-

Turtlekit of ShadowClan:

(Suggested by Mod Kitty)

Potential names: Turtledove or Turtleskid

Turtlekit is beloved. I love her. She's very close with her cousin Brownpaw... who uh... I'm gonna say is apart of a different litter than Littlecloud and Wetfoot because if not that's just ... weird? Cinderfur was only sire and she and her littermates knew that... but she still wanted to impress him all the same! She's very high achieving and bites off more than she can chew- which is both praised and looked down upon so she's often very confused and seeking out praise while getting in trouble-

She becomes close to Oakpaw and they both just... become frenemies. Both competing yet still respect each other.... it's frenemies to lovers yes. Oakpaw is Oakfur... who is such a nothing character despite training Tawnypelt and Tigerheart lmao. They're both cranky old people yet very much love and respect each other Also I'm giving Tawnypelt to Turtledove/skid to train instead because why not

-

Rustlepaw of WindClan:

(Suggested by Mod Kitty)

Potential names: Rustlefrond or Rustlegust

Their mentor will be Webfoot... despite him being his uncle (I imagine he's Whitetail's brother) he's kinda the only one who can sorta... keep down Rustlepaw's eager nature, always getting into everything and having leafs and twigs stuck to their pelt- They're very wreckless and were held back on their Warrior ceremony due to that... but eventually they did get their name and were very happy about it!

Everyone's kinda put off about how eager they are to explore... but they soon settled down after their little siblings were born and was immediately attached to Heatherkit. Before then Rustlefrond/gust was genuinely considering leaving clan life to explore... with their best friend Pebblefoot of RiverClan... of course they're still very close with Pebblefoot regardless

-Mod ☕️

[tiger-moran]

Hiiii Tiger can I ask for you to tell me more about your ideas and thoughts surrounding Kitty? I love how you write Kitty and she's so important to me. I'd love to know. Victorian or modernized interpretation or both?? (Also you're one of my favorite writers so hii) -B

Hi! You can!

I love Kitty so much and I think she needs to be used far more often in things.

For the Victorian character at least there's usually this tendency to assume Kitty is this 'fallen woman' who was basically a 'respectable' kind of woman until Gruner seduced and discarded her which is not how I tend to see her. I think in any universe Kitty is probably going to be a sex worker of some kind anyway, I mean before Gruner turns up in her life (in the modern day that's probably going to be more in the videos and online stuff line of sex work though not so much face to face physical stuff). I think also, she's not ashamed of that. And she likes sex and she likes dominating people sexually too so it would seem to her that if she can make money (and quite a lot of money probably) out of these things that she does enjoy then she'd be a fool not to do that.

I think she is young but has kind of had to grow up very quickly, so she's been very mature for her age for a long time, maybe because her family was very poor, maybe because they disowned her, and she is very self-confident, very outspoken, very tough, but she's still kind and caring; however hard her life has been that kindness and compassion has not been burnt out of her.

I think an element of Kitty's characterisation in the Granada episode where it was revealed that Gruner had injured and disfigured her has some merit - it may not be exactly like for like, what she does to him, but I think he probably did do something to her first that left her physically scarred, I really don't think Gruner is just this upper class guy who likes 'ruining pure women' by seducing them, I think he is basically the closest thing in the canon (when ACD couldn't actually be too explicit about it) to a serial killer (and I do believe completely ACD did base him on a real multiple murderer and possible serial killer), and that she disfigures him rather than trying to outright kill him does suggest that he disfigured her in some way first.

I do always love that Kitty helps bring Gruner down and helps stop him from harming another young woman even though that woman is very unpleasant, but she also has her own revenge on him with the acid. For her to commit an act like that which is so horrendous, I think he's done far more to her than just seduce her, it was something much worse than that. But she is a survivor not just his victim.

Kitty does get the most interaction with Moran in my stories and I think they are very good friends and practically consider each other family. Their relationship has been a sexual one sometimes but I think they're not romantically compatible - I think Kitty is aromantic and she doesn't want a committed partner, I think she doesn't even like sleeping with someone else, she likes sex a lot but after that she wants her own space and to not end up being tied to someone in a way that would feel stifling to her. (I also love the idea that she's one of those aromantics who gives great advice about dating and romantic relationships.)

I like the idea too that even though she's younger than he is, she acts almost like Moran's older sister sometimes and in some ways is a lot more 'street smart' than Moran is, because Moran has come from a background that was all private school, university, army, all these institutions where he was quite sheltered from 'ordinary' life, even though he has been through immense hardship himself and has rebelled against all of that a lot, he does have a sort of naïve quality to him and probably in the modern day even more than the Victorian era I think he does struggle with fitting in ordinary life. But Kitty didn't have that same privileged background and she knows a lot more about ordinary life and how to survive it and I do see her as finding Moran by accident and being the only person who takes any notice of him and realising how much distress he's in (in my story he's literally having a panic attack when she first sees him) and she helps him and looks after him and he adores her from that moment on really and they become very protective of each other.

I don't want her to be just like a 'tart with a heart' character where her decency is there to be kind of ironic because she's an """immoral""" woman. It's clear from the canon though, Kitty is not someone who is considered a 'respectable lady', but even there she is treated with respect by the major characters including Holmes. And also she has been through a lot but her vindictiveness towards Gruner is very much justified (even Watson, who seems especially horrified by what she does to Gruner, seems to think she was justified in doing it) and she is still a decent person in spite of whatever Gruner did to her, her actions aren't really portrayed as just malicious, it is definitely implied that he did something terrible to push her that far.

I do like that in the canon Holmes interacts with her and seems to like her and support her even after she throws the acid on Gruner. I always love the idea of her interacting with Moriarty too though and him being very impressed by her and liking her when Moriarty is not really a man who is easy to impress and he doesn't like many people. In my story too she's definitely suspicious of Moriarty's motives and concerned about whether Moran is safe with him and I do see her wanting to check Moriarty out herself. I do think Kitty to some degree has to do the kind of thing that Holmes does, that Moriarty too does - she has to be able to read people and read the subtle signs and clues about them, because as a young woman and as a sex worker she can be very vulnerable at times and there may be moments when her safety could depend on her reading the most subtle of signs about someone. So with Moriarty, she probably does see through him faster than even Moran does, she sees that he's not just a maths professor he is something else, something realistically much worse, but I don't think she's actually ever afraid of him (Gruner I think would frighten her, though somehow or other she does end up too heavily involved with him later and of course comes to regret that).

Also I was joking before about giving Moran a Chihuahua but I have given Kitty a Chihuahua in my story, I think she is the type to have a small feisty dog like that (but that is well trained and well behaved).

(Thank you)

[truly-morgan]

[Spider Kiss]

BetterMiles | Spiderverse 11-06-2023

[#milesbparker mmpbp, fluff, canon-divergent (no atsv)]

"Man, that was a close call" Peter laughed as he stretched a little bit, taking off his mask as they were deep in the alleyway and far from the street. They had just finished fighting some villain of the week in his universe and thing a been a bit harder than intended. Still, they managed it pretty well in his opinion.

He heard Miles chuckle above him, making him turn around. When his gaze landed on the young man Peter arched a brow, an amused and a bit confused smile appearing his lips. "What are you doing, bud?" he asked.

He watched as Miles kept himself suspended upside down, his mask lifted over his nose, revealing the bottom of his face.

"I wanted to try something" Miles grinned towards him.

"You wanted to try and get all your blood into your head?" Peter joked, stepping closer to him. "Not a very good idea, trust me on that".

Miles pouted at his joke, Peter imagining he was rolling his eyes even. "No, I wanted to try and do the Spider-Man kiss" he stated.

The older Spider-Man was a bit stunned by the suggestion, unsure what to reply to this. "And you want to try this," he started, "With me?" he finished, pointing at himself for good measure.

To this Miles eagerly nodded, "Yeah".

"Why me?" Peter then asked with a chuckle.

"Pretty sure there's pretty girls you could ask" he added.

To this the young man looked away, not really answering his question yet. But it was clear he wasn't quite pleased with the question.

But could he blame him, when their relationship had evolved into an ambiguous one?

Where they were teetering the line between strictly mentor-mentee and flirty at times. Peter would be a liar if he said he hadn't noticed the attention the young man gave him, greater than something he'd have for someone he looked up too.

And the older Spider-Man may or may not have also flirted back too, not actually discouraging him, despite knowing he should.

"Because I want it to be you" he heard being replied quietly, Miles still not looking at him.

Peter observed Miles for a moment, eyes falling on his lips, looking quite soft and inviting, probably nothing like his own rougher one. He'd also lie if he said he had never thought about how it would be like to kiss to lips before, he had simply never acted on it.

He made up his mind at the same time that Miles seemed to have given up on the idea. Peter didn't give him the time to say anything, hands gently grabbing his head so he could turn him towards him.

He brought him closer gently, lips meeting Miles' softly.

He couldn't help the little smile on his lips when he heard the young man's breath hitch a little when he kissed him, before melting into it. It was interesting being the one upright while doing this kiss.

When he pulled away he didn't quite let go of Miles, thumb gently caressing his cheekbones, smiling softly at the younger Spider-Man.

Miles was quick to let himself fall upright once he finally let him go, immediately pulling him closer with web to kiss him again, this time more less softly.

Miles was clearly not experienced, but Peter was happy to show him. Plus, where he didn't have the experience he made up with enthusiasm.

Peter ended up pulling away after a couple of kisses, chuckling when Miles tried pulling him back down again.

"Wait slow down tiger" he stated, hands on his shoulder, "We're still outside and I'd rather not have any picture coming out about two Spider-Man kissing in an alleyway" he commented.

Miles clearly looked liked he wanted more, especially since Peter was FINALLY giving him more than just the usual "I am a responsible mentor" and half-flirting back.

"Buuuut" Peter started again, pulling his mask over his head again, "We could go back to my place, call something for diner and... do whatever you wanna do" he suggested.

He didn't really wait for an answer, already shooting some web to pull himself on the roof, Miles' expression enough to tell him this was a good enough deal for him.

Maybe he could show him a little bit more once there.

Original - AO3

[mostly-mundane-atla]

@gayfertilitygoddess i've thought about it pretty extensively. Before I got popular-ish for being a real life eskimo in the fandom, i made a passing coment about the headcanon and it was my most requested topic until people started asking more cultural questions (names and language-related questions seem to be more popular now).

Funnily enough, and I do try to keep this blog otherwise drama free, this was springboarding off of discussions about headcanons with Jin in sex work, which got an absolute brat calling me a "pathetic, sexist loser" in a reblog of the post. I kept it off the main tag and tagged it "sex work mention" (as I do with all of these posts) so I have no idea how she found it to make gross accusations at me. I reblogged to say that her insisting that objective discussions of sex work were inherently slut-shaming was really hurtful as someone who had to consider it from a young age (home isn't always safe and favors/cash are useful at -30°F, we'll just leave it at that). She sent me asks to say that she "didn't mean to be hurtful" but also wouldn't apologize for what she said. She didn't have a damn thing to say about headcanon'ing Jet resorting to sex work, despite it having much more to do with his personality and the way he presents himself than with Jin, where it was entirely about her circumstances as someone in the poor side of a big city. She's since been blocked.

But yeah, Jet's most marketable asset to civilians who just want to escape violence is his charisma. His own comments and Smellerbee's suggest he promised that he'd stop fighting and stealing for the time being. He tells Zuko-as-Lee that "We [outcasts] have to watch each other's backs. Because no one else will." Zuko had his uncle to be his rock and managed to rely on the kindness of strangers when he went on his own. Jet had two friends whom he felt responsible for as their leader. We don't even get canon confirmation that he's fully literate. All of these things combined make finding any kind of employment very difficult, and that doesn't even take into consideration that he can't set down roots. He's trying to get to safety. He can't be obligated to stay in any one place that isn't his destination. There aren't a lot of options.

I feel like this would add to him needing to get out of territory that could be occupied by thee Fire Nation, given the comics explained that Firelord Sozin was a homophobe and worked that into the law. "You know what they've done to boys like me this past century," Jet would probably say. "And those were the ones on their own side." I can't imagine it wouldn't add to the amatanormative mess I write between him and Smellerbee. He shouldn't have to do this at all let alone by himself, and she tries to offer to help, to pitch in, but he scolds her for it so harshly that she cries. He apologizes later and and tells her she needs to just let him worry about it. Girls are supposed to like it when boys are fiercely protective and self-sacrificing, right?

Another thing about this headcanon is sex workers do and historically have done a lot more than most people tend to think. It's one of the reasons phrases like "selling their body" are grossly inaccurate. There is a lot of emotional labor involved. Some people who hire sex workers do so mostly for the company. Not in an "ahem [*eyebrow wiggle*] company, if you catch my meaning [*wink*]" way, like just actually having another human being in the room. Talking, smiling, laughing at their jokes. People get lonely, so it's only natural to pay someone for intimacy. Sometimes, more often than you might assume, they end up using that time more for emotional intimacy than physical intimacy. Sometimes that's the intention.

I wrote a scene with a situation like that. Jet is hired by an old widow because she claims he looks just like her husband did when they were that young. She holds his hand and kisses his cheek, laughing about how that was the farthest the old man had let her get before they were married, and asks him to help her make dinner. She sings and talks about how they used to walk by the river and how handsome he was, how very shy. At some point she stops saying "he" and starts saying "you," addressing Jet as if he was the man she married all those years ago.

"Am I still pretty?" she asks absentmindedly. "Am I as pretty as you'd say I'd be with lines on my face, a hunched back, and hair like clouds?"

"Of course," Jet says. "You're beautiful."

And she looks at him, but that seems to shatter the illusion. She mentions something about making too much food. That she hadn't had to cook that much since.... Silence. The sad kind that seems to suggest another tragedy. She tells him he should take some for his friends and thanks him for all he's done.

(There was also an OC concept I had who was a gay sex worker sharing his home with queer artist friends at the tail end of Firelord Sozin's reign, but this post is already long enough)

[cyanide-latte]

Here's a debatable take:

Smash or pass Jason Voorhees?

Some people say that he died as a child and thus still is mentally a child, others claim that he's mentally an adult and can consent. And then there's claims that even if he could he wouldn't because his mother cockblocks him into thinking sex is bad.

So, smash or pass and your thoughts?

OOOHOHO, YOU ALWAYS ASK THE MOST THOUGHT-PROVOKING THINGS!! PREPARE YOURSELF, THIS ONE IS GOING TO GET VERBOSE.

Pass, largely because first and foremost, Jason's always been my first choice of "if you could pick any slasher for a brother, who would it be", but since you added your reasoning behind why Jason's a debatable pick for Smash Or Pass, let's examine it a little further.

With regards to Jason's mental-emotional age, I would say that point probably books down to an individual's personal headcanon assessment of the character. I've heard decent arguments on both sides. But for me, it is a lot less about whether or not I consider Jason an adult.

It boils down to Momma Pam and her influence on him.

Now, there's the statement of Pamela believing sex (particularly the implication within the Friday the 13th films of premarital sex, which is even echoed in a rather bald meta joke in Jason X) is bad. And why does she have such a vendetta? As she tells Alice Hardy (and the audience,) Jason drowned and she holds the young camp counselors the most accountable because they were off having sex and neglecting their duties to watch the children.

So then, premarital sex is bad, right? That's Pam's takeaway she passed on to Jason, isn't it?

I'd make an argument that's not quite the case. There's a little more to analyze here.

Yes I'm not done yet. Sorry not sorry.

I'm not sure how many within the slasher fandom have read the two-issue comic published by DC's Wildstorm imprint called "Pamela's Tale", but I want to reference it here in regards to my point. Whether or not you consider this two-issue backstory canon (and I personally struggle with it because I feel it removes more than it adds, and takes away tragic and sympathetic elements from her and Jason,) reading the comics did give me a different angle on analyzing Pam's character.

We get the majority of her backstory in flashback panels while she narrates, and the juxtaposition between the narrative text and accompanying images is there to prove to us that she's an unreliable narrator. The majority of this unreliable narration pertains to her relationship with her husband. And amid that, I'd like to draw your attention to this one panel in particular and what it implies.

You see, I don't think it's a case of premarital sex or even just sex in general being bad. The idea here isn't that [sex] is ""bad"".

It's that in Pam's mind, sex is violence.

If you take the comics as canon, then Pamela's marriage illustrates married sex for her has become a direct equivalent to violence. If you don't, it still invites the reader to examine her thoughts and feelings on a deeper level, because it suggests the [premarital] sex of the camp counselors also causes violence. Perhaps more indirect, as their sex caused negligence that led to violence against Jason and caused his drowning, but the lines are drawn and tangled all the same. And given how regularly sex and violence [and death] are almost imutably connected in horror media to serve as a subtle textual commentary, it feels not far off to posit that Pam is a—if not the— voice behind that concept.

Now, isn't killing people an act of violence as well? Yes of course it is. But we know Pam isn't in her right mind; she's on a vigilante-style mission she gave herself to punish those who indulge so freely in sex that they cause harm to innocents like Jason. We know it's a path of vengeance she's on, but in her mind, she probably views it as meting out justice as is due.

All of which ties back to Jason. We know from canon that Pamela's influence on him is rather total. She was so protective of him that in a way, he would have been unable to separate the ideas of a higher power and his mother, because she was the higher power of his world! And if the higher power tells you from the point in your childhood where you are of an age of understanding that something is wrong or violent because it hurts others, you're not likely to question that. (If you want to take it a step further and argue for the idea that Pam and Jason are connected by the Shining a telepathic link, then her influence on Jason can and does continue long after she is killed.) Punishing those who potentially harm others like himself by an act of self-indulgence like sex may not be the only reason Jason kills, but there's a lot to suggest that he's carrying on that self-appointed mission his mother had. The major difference is that Pamela did it out of an impetus for vengeance while Jason does it in honor of his mother or because he believes her views with totality.

All of that is the deeper reason why I'd say pass to Jason in this game anyway. You'd have to work like hell and hope you could overcome the equation of sex to the idea of acts of violence, which is something arguably coded into Jason's beliefs by his mother. And given Pamela's influence and self-assured beliefs, I don't see that being easily overcome, if at all.

[strangertheory]

I'd love for Will to be able to have the power of reality alteration because him being the most powerful one would be a very nice plot twist. But. Do you really believe they make him more powerful than El? I keep finding crazy comments on social media, suggesting it's the "El show" 😪 *sigh*. And I know some people who say it'd be anti feminist since Will is a boy. Thx

That’s a lot of interesting questions to think about.

I’ll attempt to address each thought that you’ve shared one at a time and provide you with my own opinions and theories about each:

You said: “I'd love for Will to be able to have the power of reality alteration because him being the most powerful one would be a very nice plot twist. But. Do you really believe they would make him more powerful than El?”

I have a lot of conflicted feelings about the way that the fandom often talks about characters’ powers and supernatural abilities in Stranger Things. (I also really dislike the way that the fandom has decided that they can’t appreciate and support both El and Will’s happiness and that their happy endings and successes are somehow mutually exclusive, but I’ll address the topic of their powers first.)

Fans often focus on the abilities and superpowers of characters as something desirable and cool but fans rarely spend time considering what it cost those characters to develop their abilities in the first place. Neither El nor Will suddenly woke up one day and had superpowers that they had conscious control over.

Certain impressive skills that people have in the real world might also be developed under extremely traumatic and undesirable circumstances and not because they wanted them: the powers represented so far in Stranger Things are very much like that variety of skillset.

El’s powers and her ability to control them are canonically shown to have manifested during her imprisonment, abuse, isolation, and manipulation at the Lab. As Kali says “They stole your life, Jane!” Due to El’s isolation from society and from love and affection and from having a family and from everything else in the world beyond the Lab she has a significant amount of early childhood social and psychological development that was stolen from her that she can never truly get back. A healthy, loving, safe environment for development and self-actualization that children deserve to have was not provided to El and she has suffered so much and she has had significant delays in her opportunity to grow and become her own person because of what was done to her. So yes, El has psychic powers that give her a variety of unique abilities that are very useful. But at what cost? If El were given the choice to abandon all of her powers in exchange for a loving family, a community of friends that she’d had the opportunity to know and spend time with since early childhood, a variety of passions and hobbies that she chose for herself over the years as she was growing up and engaging with the world, an extensive understanding of the world outside of the Lab based on her own exploration of the world and not only what people tell her or what she sees on television, and most importantly a sense that she is treated kindly because people truly love her and not because they want to exploit her and her powers for their own purposes: wouldn’t she make that trade?

Do I currently agree with the theory that Will’s subconscious mind created the Upside Down, the Mindflayer, the demogorgon, and even most probably created many other characters and fantastical plotlines that exist in the story? Yes. But I believe it has (so far) been unintentional, entirely subconscious, and is a mental coping mechanism in response to extremely traumatic circumstances that Will has faced throughout his life. Would Will’s subconscious mind creating significant parts of the Stranger Things universe represent a certain level of “power” that is greater than El’s? I don’t personally think they’re comparable. There are things that Will can probably do that El cannot, and vice versa. They will surely each have their own strengths and weaknesses and their own limitations that we may or may not always be shown in the series.

But what does "more powerful” really mean to us, and why does that question even matter? It was not El’s choice to have powers and it was not Will’s choice to have powers. Much of what I believe Will has incidentally created is creating a lot of confusion and suffering for him and for others that he cares about. If the story were about real people I’d be offended at the question of who’s more powerful and feel as though that question and debate is the sort that Dr. Brenner and his colleagues would have: “How useful is this child to me? Which child is more powerful?” I dislike the question because it feels like asking a parent which child is their favorite. I care about them both, and I don’t care about them because they happen to have superpowers: I care about them because they are nuanced characters that are very well-written and that I can empathize with as if they were real people. I respect why it’s a popular thing for fans to debate over which X-Men is the most powerful, for example, but that’s never been what draws me into scifi and fantasy stories. What characters choose to do under unusual circumstances and with unique resources (such as superpowers) is far more important to me than the nature and intensity of the powers themselves. I believe that the Stranger Things fandom does these beautifully written characters a disservice by focusing too heavily on their abilities and not enough on their feelings, choices, relationships, dreams, goals, and experiences that humanize them.

I love Stranger Things because of the humanity of each of the characters and not because some of them can throw cars through walls.

You said: “I keep finding crazy comments on social media, suggesting it's the "El show"”

El is definitely an important character in the story at this point in the show and she has some really fascinating abilities in the Stranger Things universe that often give her iconic moments and provide her an opportunity to be in the spotlight.

I believe that there is a reason that the writers have decided to develop many characters in the story and in my opinion it can seem hard to pin-point a “main” character at times. I think this is absolutely intentional on the part of the writers, and I predict that we will learn how Will’s, Hopper’s, and El’s storylines intersect in season 4. I think we will learn something new about each of the characters.

I do not personally believe that it is the “El show” any more than it could be argued that this is the “Steve show” or the “Hopper show.” But I do appreciate that fans have grown to love El’s character.

I strongly disagree with anyone in the fandom that insists that Will is not important. I can tell that the way that he was quieter in season 3 inspired some fans to dismiss his role in the series entirely, but I think they’re mistaken. Quiet and less assertive doesn’t mean irrelevant in a story like this one. I believe that much of what Will has been through is at the heart of the entire series, and I think that he will play a very critical role in future seasons. If some fans passionately dislike Will then they might need to steel themselves for some severe disappointment.

You said: “And I know some people who say it'd be anti feminist [for Will to be more powerful than El] since Will is a boy." 

I would argue that El embodies many traits that are often presumed to be stereotypically masculine by certain incorrect and outdated schools of thought: assertiveness, the ability to win in combat, determination, resilience, and bravery (among others.) There were eras in which these traits were not always valued and respected in women, and arguably there are still many circumstances under which they still aren’t. El is a complex character who is not written as a gender stereotype and I think that is powerful and important.

We need more characters of many different genders that are written as people. Complex, multi-faceted, and capable of many different things regardless of their gender.

Yes. Will is a boy.

Will is a young boy who has been bullied for having certain traits that are very often stereotypically seen by society as feminine. As being “womanly.”

I believe that feminism needs to be intersectional and seek to address the ways that all people and all genders are harmed by a society that devalues women and devalues traits, work, and skillsets that are associated with femininity.

Feminism should not be reduced and oversimplified to “girl power.” Anyone that reduces feminism to that does not, in my opinion, understand feminism.

“Feminism is the belief in the social, economic, and political equality of the sexes.”

Devaluing admirable traits when someone of one gender expresses them but then deciding to value those exact same traits when they are expressed by a person of a different gender is prejudiced and anti-feminist because it maintains the false idea that certain traits only have value in people if they are a specific gender. 

El is a wonderful, empowering character and I appreciate that she is very well written and admired by many fans. But I worry when certain fans are more willing to appreciate a kick-ass fictional young woman that defies outdated and incorrect gender stereotypes but are not also willing to embrace gentler, more sensitive, less stereotypically masculine young men like Will with similar enthusiasm and affection.

Will is bullied and devalued by his small-town community for having traits and interests that are perceived as feminine and therefore, according to closeminded bigots like his dad, not allowed and are deserving of abuse and bullying. Will is arguably also devalued and dismissed by the Stranger Things fandom because he has traits that are perceived as feminine and undesirable in a young teen guy in the eyes of certain fans, too.

The devaluing and dismissal of gentle, kind, emotional young men is a feminist issue.

A character doesn’t have to be a girl in order to represent feminist ideals within a story. I know that there are probably plenty of feminists that will disagree with me (because there will always be people with their own opinions) but I strongly believe that Will's story is feminist as it has been explored so far (just as El's is.)

Anyone in the fandom that considers themselves a “Feminist” but that spends significant amounts of time criticizing Will Byers by dismissing him as “boring” and criticizing him for being quiet, sensitive, gentle, and emotional should take a good look in the mirror and reflect on what their personal brand of feminism stands for and whether their goal truly is “the equality of the sexes” or if their goal is simply hating men and only valuing and promoting stereotypically masculine traits in our society.

Feminism’s goal is not to make women more powerful than men or to make men less powerful than women, it is about the promotion of the “equality of the sexes.” 

Stereotypes are constructs our society has built and that impact the way we all currently relate to each other. Until society stops treating traits associated with society's currently constructed idea of femininity as something weak or bad then it is important to appreciate these traits in characters of many different genders and to value these traits in men (both in real life and in fictional stories) too. Anyone of any gender can be sensitive and sensitivity should not be seen as a weakness but rather as a strength and as something that's a valuable aspect of our humanity, and the same can be said for many other beautiful traits that society has wrongly decided to put into boxes and assign gender stereotypes to.

This complicated topic is incredibly important to me as a fan of both El and Will. I believe that both El and Will are feminist characters and that the series is very empowering and is challenging society’s gender biases through both of their stories. I hope that my response to your question was successful in communicating how I feel and resonates with you and with perhaps other fans who also care about El and Will and feel their own experiences, feelings, and identities validated by their story arcs.

Will some fans still whine and cry “sexism” and attempt to brand Stranger Things as “anti-feminist” if their hope that El will be the solo main character of the story and not have to share the spotlight with a boy is dashed? Sure. But I think they’re wrong, that their concept of feminism and sexism is incorrect, and that their priorities and their understanding of El’s value as a character is unfortunate. El is more than her superpowers. El doesn’t need to be “the strongest” or “the most powerful” in order to be an inspiring, complex, well-written, relatable, and empowering character.

Thank you for your Ask! I hope you don’t mind how long this response is. You mentioned a few things that I have some very complicated opinions about.

[audreycritter]

Sooo, you said you don't mind having a list of flash fics and trauma asks to work through... This is kind of both; What do you think of a flash fic that's *about* trauma? ((I'd just absolutely adore one that goes into a little detail about Tim and your idea that the oft-made-fun-of coffee habit actually predates his time as Robin-- but if you've got lots of Tim requests, anybody, really! I love your take on the Batfam and their psyches.))

um so I couldn’t stop thinking about this and I ended up writing a REALLY LONG AND REALLY SAD THING.Gen/Family/Backstory~6700 WordsTim Drake, Janet Drake, Jack DrakeMild canon divergence/much canon inclusion

Shut Eye (AO3 Link)

Timothy Jackson Drake was the kind of baby that defied parenting books. He was not a particularly active infant, but he craved motion instead of sleep. He exhausted every chapter of sleep advice while he exhausted himself, Janet Drake, and the three nannies that had come and gone by the time he was seven months old.

During the day, when the doctors and psychologists and parents who had penned the books said he was supposed to be kept awake, he was content to gaze at toys or attempt to roll over or gum on his chubby hands. He did not nap, except those places or times it was inconvenient– the ten minute drive to the pediatrician, Jack’s shoulder right before he had to leave for a meeting.

In theory, he should have been exhausted by the time bedtime rolled around (nine, then eight, then seven, on the dot, because the books said schedule was important, the books said maybe he was overtired and earlier was better), and he was exhausted– exhausted enough to let his eyes close with the swaying motion of being carried to his crib.

But in the gap between arms and mattress, his eyes would snap open and he would shriek and wail as if hurt or gravely offended. Once, on a new book’s recommendation, they tried to let him cry it out. Three hours of screaming ended with a sweaty, red-faced, furious baby vomiting all over his sheets.

They tried everything.

Music, white noise, fan, night light, blackout blinds, organic cotton sheets, warm pajamas, no pajamas, extra formula, sensitive formula, a teddy bear.

Nothing worked.

“He hates sleep,” Janet said more than once, eyes ringed with deep circles even make-up couldn’t cover anymore.

“Maybe,” Jack agreed absently, looking over stock reports.

“He hates me,” she complained, when walking the halls to lull Timothy to sleep resulted in him screaming in her ear when he realized she was walking toward his bedroom. Somehow, he knew.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Jack said without looking up.

Timothy arched his back and howled at the world.

Nanny after nanny quit when it was clear that their job involved no naptime breaks to pee or eat and hours of carrying around a miserable, tired baby who jerked his head up every time he suspected his eyes might be closing.

“He’ll grow into it,” the pediatrician said.

But if anything, he was getting more resistant to sleep, more aware of their methods.

Things that had once worked for brief hours, like driving in circles with him strapped into the car seat, backfired and before long he cried in shrill suspicion anytime they had to drive anywhere.

One by one, their meager methods faded and he would crawl, then toddle, around the house in staggering fatigue until he finally slumped over somewhere around one in the morning with Janet or a half-asleep nanny trailing after him. Sometimes they’d risk moving him if it seemed especially uncomfortable, like halfway down from a dining room chair, but other times if he was on carpet or the couch or even once inside the piano bench, they’d leave him. Moving him often woke him up, and once he was out they only had until five in the morning or so, anyway.

Then Timothy Drake discovered books and his temper, in the same few week span.

Janet Drake, desperate for some relief and maybe, maybe a solid three hours of sleep and a nanny who wouldn’t quit, found her world flip-flopped.

Now Timothy was angry about everything. Nothing made him happy. He threw and bit and pulled and roared his way through every day, upsetting sippy cups and plastic plates of cheerios and her fragile sense of well-being.

But at night, he’d sit in his crib and happily hum to himself while his fat little fingers turned thin pages with impossible care. She guessed he still stayed awake until one or two in the morning, but she slept through all of it, because at least he wasn’t screaming and at least he was staying in his crib (he had taught himself how to climb out the same week he learned to pull himself to standing, and would fling himself toward the floor and crawl away while indignantly crying).

“Is that really something we should indulge?” Jack asked once, looking at the video monitor from their master bathroom.

“Shut up, Jack,” Janet had murmured, almost asleep already. “At least he’s quiet.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t love Timothy. It was just that loving Timothy was so exhausting and she wasn’t entirely sure, despite Jack’s insistence, that Timothy liked her very much in return.

“Just wait until he says mama,” one mother advised her at one of the only playgroup meetings she attended. “It changes everything.”

The mother doling out this advice bounced a smiling toddler in her own arms, who demanded a kiss in childish babbling a second later.

Janet looked across the room where Timothy was sitting, surrounded by the chaos of playing children, studying a book about wild lions. Another boy stumbled on him and Timothy screamed and hit the round-cheeked face of the other boy with the book.

They didn’t go back to that playgroup.

But the other mother had been right, in a way.

Timothy’s temper, so volatile and constant, dropped off almost in the course of a single day. His wordless shrieking and chattering was just beginning to worry her– the books said he should have a vocabulary of close to two dozen words now, and until that day she didn’t think he had any.

That day, he picked up a cup full of watered down apple juice and held it aloft like he was going to pitch it onto the floor, his face already flushing red with fury, and he paused with it clutched in his tiny hands. Then he looked at Janet and held the cup out, and said so clearly she didn’t process it at first, “No, I want milk.”

“Please,” she promoted automatically, in a stupor, staring at him.

“Please, I want milk. Where is it?” he said, blinking at her calmly.

And just like that, with rare exceptions, his temper had vanished.

The nanny had been with them for four months (a record), Timothy was speaking in full sentences and looking at picture encyclopedias until he passed out at night.

Jack suggested they take a vacation.

Without Timothy.

Janet only felt a twinge of guilt when she agreed.

“I love you,” she said to him, kissing his head, the morning they left.

“I love you,” he echoed, while watching a butterfly as they stood in the driveway, the nanny clutching his hand.

She wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or the winged insect. Her consolation was that when she picked him up and hugged him, his arms snaked around her neck and squeezed. His little body was warm and limp against her, trusting and cuddly. He pulled back and looked at her face.

“Mom,” he said, bypassing the traditional repetitive syllables. He twisted in her arms and pointed. “A painted lady.”

She was fairly certain he was talking about the butterfly that time.

They fell into a routine. Jack had missed her traveling with him and she had missed it, too. It seemed unfair to put Timothy through the red eye flights and different hotel rooms and gauntlet of available foods, and every nanny they hired promised he never seemed very distressed at their absence.

Janet wasn’t sure if this was comforting or wounding.

“He’s such a good baby, so quiet,” one nanny said. “So polite.”

Janet wondered if maybe she was talking to the wrong nanny.

They’d come home and Timothy would tear around the house, whooping like a banshee, while Janet talked about the places they’d gone. She didn’t know how much he heard while he was standing on his head, tangled in the living room curtains. But he asked questions that were, if strange or specific, on topic. She couldn’t answer half of them.

Once, when he was three, they came back from Argentina and she’d gotten a book to read with him. It had been a while since they’d sat and read, but Janet assumed from his overflowing bookshelves that the nanny kept them both busy. Timothy snuggled up next to her, happily enough, but half a page in he put a hand right over the text.

“This is not real,” he said firmly.

“No,” she agreed. “It’s fiction.”

“Spiders do not talk,” he said peevishly, jabbing an accusing finger at the next page.

Janet’s heart skipped a beat when she realized he was reading, and reading ahead of her. His little face was a pinched picture of disgust.

“Spiders do not talk,” he repeated, as if scolding her. He slid off the couch and darted to the bookshelf. He came back with an orange bound field guide and climbed up next to her again and opened it, pointed to a microphotography image of a garden spider. “This is a real spider,” he said.

Janet put the storybook away and spent the rest of the hour pointing to words, amusing herself and not testing him.

She was testing him.

She was also proud.

“Jack, did you know Timothy can read?” she asked when he walked into the room.

“Good,” he said, tearing open an envelope. “He’ll get into a good preschool. I thought we could go to the circus tonight. A good one is in town.”

“Elephants!” Timothy shouted, standing on the couch. Janet made a mental note to look into preschools before they left again. It was probably overdue– she kept forgetting how quickly he was growing up.

At the circus that night, Jack pulled strings and they met the acrobats and the elephants before the show. Janet snapped a picture of Timothy on the shoulders of a young, dark-haired acrobat. She didn’t think she’d ever been good with children at that age, but the acrobat had Timothy giggling within seconds.

Once in their seats, Timothy had watched everything, sometimes covering his ears when the announcements or music pumped through the speakers grew too loud. Jack had gotten them good seats, and Timothy stood on his with Janet’s arm around his waist for safety. Their neighbor, Bruce Wayne, sat a dozen seats away and it was the first time Janet had seen him since the Christmas party at his house two years before.

Timothy’s attention was fixed on the circus with a patience that belied his age, his eyes wide and his little spine rigid under her hand. He watched the elephants, the clowns, the lions, the firebreather, the acrobats, the plunge to their deaths.

Half the crowd screamed and the other half gasped, all in unison; it was a wrenching sound mingled with the bodies hitting the hard, packed ground and it lingered in Janet’s dreams for years after. Everyone was so focused on not looking, or looking for help, or moving to or away, that it was several minutes before she heard Jack snap, “Godammit,” and she realized Timothy was looking straight at the bodies with a blank expression as he gradually comprehended it wasn’t part of the show.

“Dead,” he announced calmly, as Jack swept him off the seat and over his shoulder.

Janet followed, turning her head from the pools of blood when they walked toward the exit. She put her hand over Timothy’s eyes just as they swept out of the tent; too late, she knew, because he’d tracked the bodies as they moved through the crowd.

For the first time since he’d begun lulling himself to sleep with books, he woke crying that night.

“Dead,” he kept saying when she picked him up to bounce him on her hip. “Dead. Dead.”

After the fourth night like it, she took him to the pediatrician. She asked about seeing a child psychologist, but the doctor seemed more interested in the fact that Timothy could read and was putting a model of the human eye together on the exam table after taking it apart with his nimble, chubby hands.

“He’s a little young for conversational therapy,” the doctor said, leaning back on his stool. “But I think you might find some help if you have some intelligence screenings done.”

“He’s very smart,” Janet said defensively.

“He is. He’s very bright. It might help to see if he’s dealing with autism or–”

“He’s not autistic,” Janet snapped. “He’s fine. Aren’t you listening to me? He saw two people, well,” Janet noticed that Timothy’s fingers had stopped adjusting pieces. She made a vague downward motion with her hand and raised an meaningful eyebrow at the doctor.

“Does he have friends?” the doctor pressed.

“Friends?” Janet demanded. “He’s three. His friends are the Kratt brothers and Elmo. He makes eye contact. He hugs me and Jack. He talks to us. He doesn’t mind new places. He’s fine.”

“Hmm,” the doctor said noncommittally.

“I’m signing him up for preschool,” Janet said as a last defense, feeling attacked. “If his teachers notice anything, they’ll say something.”

“Alright,” the doctor said, standing. “It was nice to see you, Timothy.”

“Tim,” the boy corrected, holding up the reconstructed model eye. “Look. The pupil is in half.”

They left the pediatrician’s and within ten days, Tim was enrolled in preschool, Janet had found a new pediatrician, and his nightmares had stopped. She didn’t bother looking for a child psychologist, figuring his young mind had rebounded after given enough time.

Tim took to preschool like a fish to water and, satisfied he was adjusting well, Janet resumed traveling with Jack. The nannies never complained about him anymore, except laughing updates that he asked too many questions. They still couldn’t seem to keep a nanny longer than six months, but now it was always external things and not Tim himself. Family illness, finished college, another job opportunity, cancer.

When Tim was six, they came back with presents that had very different outcomes. Janet brought him an encyclopedia of planes she’d found and set aside time between lunch and her chiropractor’s appointment to look at it with him. When he opened it, he flipped slowly through the first few pages and though he was trying hard to smile she could tell he was disappointed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, wrapping an arm around him. He stiffened. “It’s okay if it’s boring right now. Maybe you’ll like planes later.”

“I have this one,” Tim said, as if admitting it pained him. “I got it when I was four. It’s…it’s good though.”

“Oh,” Janet said, taking the book in her hands. “We can exchange it.”

This was a lie and he knew it. She’d purchased it in the English section of a bookstore in Germany.

“What are you reading now?” she asked, trying to keep him talking, to show she wasn’t upset. Or, wasn’t very upset.

“Harry Potter,” he said, retrieving the book and sitting down. He was halfway through the second one, or so she guessed from the number on the spine.

“I thought you didn’t like fiction,” she said.

“I’m not a baby,” he rolled his eyes.

“You’re six,” she said, looking over his thin shoulder at the dense block of text.

“I’m glad you noticed,” he said, sounding suddenly bitter and moody.

“I told you, I’m sorry we missed your birthday,” she said, guilt washing over her all over again. “You said it was a good party, though.”

“I’m trying to read.”

She got up.

“Timmy-boy!” Jack’s voice boomed through the room. He missed Janet’s warning glance and headshake. “I got you a camera. Thought you might like playing with it.”

Rather than insist he was reading, Tim abandoned the book in the blink of an eye to take the heavy, black digital camera from Jack.

It was too large, too expensive, too complicated for a child and Janet had tried to tell Jack so, but he’d refused to listen. Tim struggled to hold it up but flipped through the buttons like he’d been doing it all his life.

“It has manual focus,” he said, sounding excited.

“You can use autofocus for now,” Janet said, trying to avoid the eventual meltdown over blurry pictures.

“Don’t discourage him,” Jack said easily, grinning at his own success. He posed for a picture.

He fiddled with the settings all afternoon and Janet felt both justified in her worry and heartsick with the aptness of it, when she caught Tim in the hallway outside the dining room thumbing through pictures and muttering, “Stupid, stupid. All blurry. Stupid.”

When she tried to talk to him, his face went blank and he shrugged, turning the camera off and letting it hang from the strap around his neck. It was too large, the leather band spanning from his nape where his hair curled all the way down to the collar of his science day-camp shirt.

“It’s fine,” he said, brushing past her.

She caught him again, ten minutes later, sniffling and rubbing his eyes while he talked to the nanny in the kitchen. The woman was flipping organic salmon filets in a skillet and Tim didn’t have her full attention, but maybe he preferred it that way, Janet thought with a pang. She was suddenly jealous of the woman but Tim was all smiles again by dinner, so she let it go.

Late that night, Tim climbed onto her bed with the camera. She was sipping a glass of wine while Jack yelled at someone on his cellphone from the walk-in closet. She’d already taken her makeup off and let her hair down, so when Tim pointed the camera at her she laughed.

“Not now,” she said, putting a hand over her face.

“Don’t miss my birthday party next year,” he said, kneeling on the bed with the camera held up. He said it simply, without malice or hurt, like he was giving instructions for delivering a package or ordering food.

Janet dropped her hand and let him take the picture, the wine glass near her mouth while she smiled for him.

“Okay,” she said, the smile fading after the shutter clicked.

Tim crawled off the bed and opened the closet door to take a picture of Jack with his arm thrown in the air, his face flushed as he shouted at someone about a contract falling through.

Janet never saw either picture. She assumed he deleted them, but she also didn’t say “I told you so,” to Jack about the camera. She went to sleep accepting that she’d been wrong, again, about Tim, and woke up to him already outside on the back lawn climbing a tree to take pictures of the house. The nanny was on the patio in a bathrobe, yawning and drinking coffee, and Janet wasn’t entirely certain that Tim had ever gone to bed that night.

But saying anything to Tim about sleep was pointless, so she didn’t bother. She helped him set up an email account so he could send her pictures when she and Jack flew out again at the end of the week. Rather, she stood next to him, giving him permission, while he pecked at the keys one finger at a time and set up an email account for himself.

Even though they weren’t there long that time, it wasn’t like Janet was never home. She came home for a month, sometimes two, at a time and left again with Jack for business or sightseeing. Her trips away always started as one week, or two weeks, and turned into six or seven or nine. Three months, even with stellar reports from the nanny, was her limit.

But at home, Tim had school and computer club and LEGO Robotics club and photography class and after school science camp and swim lessons and soccer practice, and it seemed selfish to interrupt his education to do…nothing. So she saw him between dinner and bedtime, and sometimes in the morning he’d creep into her curtained bedroom and tell her goodbye before he left for school.

And Janet had lunch dates and appointments and gym classes and meetings of her own, and if Tim was dissatisfied with this arrangement he rarely showed it.

She did come home from India for his seventh birthday, with Jack.

She came home from Hong Kong for his eighth birthday, without Jack, but with his apologies and an expensive traditional film camera.

Tim had a gift for her, too, and it made her feel guilty about how badly the rest of the time at home went, because it was only the second time Janet had been forced to fire a nanny and it just figured that it would be a nanny Tim was particularly attached to.

The trouble started when Tim walked in to give her the photography book he’d put together as a gift, the printed album in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. She accepted the book and reached for the coffee, but Tim pulled it back smoothly, quickly, and frowned at her as if disappointed.

“Tim, I’ll look at the book,” she promised. “Right now. You don’t have to tease.”

“I’m not,” he said, sounding irritated. He sipped the coffee. “I can get you a cup if you want some.”

“You’re seven,” she said.

“Eight, since this morning,” he answered, sitting down on the couch. His feet dangled over the edge of the cushion. He’d always been small for his age and it made the mug he held seem even more ridiculous.

“Eight is too young for coffee,” she said sternly. “Go dump it out.”

“I have a cup every morning,” he protested, whining, holding the mug more closely to his chest. “Look at the book I made you.”

“Letitia,” Janet called sharply to the nanny, straightening her posture.

“Mrs. Drake?” the woman answered, coming into the room with an armful of Tim’s laundry.

“How long have you allowed Tim to drink coffee?”

“Oh,” the woman said, bewildered. She seemed more confused by Janet’s tone than anything else. She made eye contact with Tim. “Two months, ago, now?” Her gaze shifted back to Janet. “He has trouble sleeping and coffee always makes me sleepy, so we tried it.”

“It doesn’t help,” Tim said. “But I like how it tastes.”

“Of course it doesn’t help,” Janet snapped. “You’re a child. It’s full of caffeine and can stunt your growth.”

“Myth,” Tim said, patting the book she was holding. “I did research. Are you going to look at the book?”

Janet closed her eyes for a moment and said, “No more coffee, Tim. That will be all, Letitia.”

Tim threw himself back against the couch, scowling, and then looked straight at her and took a long drink of his coffee. Janet sighed and flipped open the book. Maybe she could try to reason with him later, when he wasn’t already mad at her.

The pictures were good– photography class and his personal drive had paid off. But she noticed a bothersome trend only three pictures in. The pictures were all black and white: a smiling homeless man, the jutting and crumbling gargoyle of a downtown bank, a crowd of stony-faced teenagers with spiked hair and skateboards.

“Tim,” Janet said, her voice scared and hard at once, “Tim, where did you take these?”

“That’s Charlie,” he said quickly and excitedly, leaning forward and tapping the picture of the grizzled, toothless man. “He’s nice. I buy him hot chocolate sometimes.”

“Tim,” Janet said again.

“I don’t know their names,” Tim said dismissively of the teens, “but they were excited about the pictures. I printed some at the Walgreen’s for them.”

“Tim,” Janet hissed.

“Gotham,” he said casually, as if it were obvious. The problem was that it was obvious and he was eight years old and should not have pictures like the work of a fucking Gotham Times’ journalist’s side project about poverty and the city.

Janet was too shocked to summon any other words for a moment. She turned another page.

It was a building at night, clouds in the distance, the silhouette of a distant figure with points on his head like animal ears.

“Look!” Tim shouted, “It’s Batman! It’s the best one I got of him.” He reached over and flipped the page for her. The next page was a blurred picture of a boy in a bright uniform, soaring through the air. “I had to zoom in a bunch but this is the best one of Robin.”

“Timothy Drake,” Janet snapped so fiercely that Tim jumped, his coffee sloshing in the mug. “How did you get these pictures?”

“I took them,” he said, his little brow creasing.

Janet stood and paced for a moment while Tim shrank back on the couch, his mug pressed against his chin.

“Letitia!” she shouted and the nanny reappeared, this time with a backpack and a washcloth in her hands. Janet waved the album in the air and demanded, “Why the hell are you taking my eight year old child into downtown Gotham?”

“She’s not!” Tim protested, at the same time Letitia said, “Mrs. Drake, I don’t know what–”

Janet whirled on Tim.

“She doesn’t take me,” Tim said, standing and reaching for the book. Janet held it out of his reach. “I’ve been skipping Science Explorers after school. And soccer at the YMCA at night.”

“Why?” Janet asked, a cold pit of fear warring with anger and bafflement alike. “I thought you liked science.”

“It’s too easy,” Tim said, a little desperately. “It’s all stuff I know. But downtown is interesting.”

“It’s not safe,” Janet snapped. “And it has to stop, right now.”

Tim’s face twisted in fury and then went blank, impassive and unreadable.

“Letitia, you’re fired,” Janet said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Yes, ma’am,” the woman said quietly. “I’ll go pack my things.”

“No!” Tim shouted, standing on the couch, the blankness falling away into sheer rage.

“Yes,” Janet said firmly, tucking the book under her arm. She felt a pang of regret that this, and not praise for his artwork, had to take the precedent, but his safety was more important than feelings about pictures. “It’s not your fault, Tim, that she wasn’t watching you more carefully, but coffee? Trips alone into the city? No. This is why we have a nanny, to keep you safe, and she’s not doing her job. I’m not mad at you, baby, but you need to let me be a good mommy right now.”

Tim was still standing on the couch and he glared at her and then his expression shifted to something cold. He stretched out his arm and before she could order him not to, he tipped his mug and dumped the entire remainder of his coffee straight onto the brushed suede couch. It splashed across the fabric and splattered the white carpet beneath.

“You little shit,” Janet gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth right after. “I’m sorry, Tim, that…I shouldn’t have said that. I think we both need time to calm down.”

It was lunchtime when she went to find him and could hear him crying in his bedroom. It was locked and she knocked gently.

“Go away,” he snarled from inside.

He just needed more time. She let him have it.

She found another nanny. She gave strict instructions that he was to be accompanied to all his classes and clubs and that coffee was absolutely off-limits. He was still angry at her two weeks later and with resignation, she decided that giving him more space might help. She joined Jack in Tokyo.

The next time she went home, it had been five months. Tim had come to join them for a month in the middle of that, so she didn’t feel too guilty about being away so long. Tim chatted with her like nothing had ever happened while with them in Europe and happily took pictures and added things to their itinerary.

But once she came home, it was to more problems. She was beginning to dread going home.

There was a stack of notes from teachers, praising Tim’s intelligence and expressing concern that, while he made friends easily enough, seemed to have trouble maintaining long-term friendships. He was often distracted or fell asleep in class, he conversed easily with adults but ignored most children his own age with the exception of a few. None of the notes had ever been forward to her, all the envelopes neatly sliced open. Tim had opened them.

The nanny was a woman she didn’t recognize even though they’d texted a few times about Tim and scheduling and plans. When Janet pressed, she got it out of Tim that the other woman had resigned quickly and that he had hired another nanny without ever letting Janet find out. His resourcefulness both impressed and frightened her and she dreaded to ask, because she had to ask and she already knew the answer, what he’d been doing in his spare time.

His answer was casual but his body was tense and it was then that Janet realized, with the sharp sensation of nausea, that Tim was both a remarkable child and nearly an absolute stranger to her. And he was afraid of her, afraid of her disapproval, and fiercely defensive of his own freedom all the same.

“Taking pictures,” he’d said vaguely at first.

“Downtown, but I’m careful,” he added after a moment.

“I know where all the police stations are,” he said helpfully, almost an hour later, when he approached her again.

“I take a taxi, so I’m with a grownup,” he said at dinner, as if this constituted responsible childcare.

Janet couldn’t even think of what to say to him. She wasn’t afraid that he would hurt her– he was, and remained for the most part, a gentle and quiet boy. He was so careful and precise and she watched him that same day rescue a spider and put it outside before taking pictures. There was a steel in him that she recognized, a hardness that surely came from Jack and would maybe benefit him in business someday, and he was stubborn and independent, but he wasn’t violent. More than anything, she was afraid of losing his waning affection.

“You have to talk to him,” she told Jack, passing the buck. “He’s your son. It isn’t safe.”

“Damn straight, it’s not safe!” Jack had thundered, when she finally filled him in on all the details she’d kept back for the past year. “Tim!”

After Jack yelled at him, her plan turned out to be a failure. Tim was furious at both of them and did not seek her out for solace.

Jack tried to confiscate his cameras, but Tim produced another one within hours. She didn’t know if he’d hidden it or purchased it somehow. Jack took that one, too, and the next morning they woke to ten identical cameras in boxes on the porch while a chipper-looking delivery man waited for a signature. Tim had ordered them online the night before, using Jack’s card, and Jack threw his hands in the air and let the boy keep them.

They fired the nanny and hired a new one. Janet stayed behind when Jack left for Australia, determined for once that she could be more obstinate than her sour child and was pleased to find success. Tim’s ire faded quickly and she let some smaller things slide in favor of connecting with him. They didn’t have a traditional relationship, exactly, but he joined her in the morning for coffee when he wasn’t at school, he was happy and even excited to come to her with projects and ideas. He wasn’t sneaking out of club meetings, as far as she could tell, and after two months she was satisfied that he’d adjusted and found a healthy, age-appropriate medium.

If he sometimes seemed a little sad or reserved, she chalked that up to his age– he was getting close to surging hormones and it was an area where she was lost. She’d have Jack talk to him again. She went to the school and had him moved to more advanced classes and several of his issues at school seemed to disappear.

Halfway through her third month at home, Tim was doing well and Janet was growing bored. The long hours he spent in school and in class, with a nanny to take care of the details, left her with nothing to do after she’d exhausted lunch and manicure dates with friends who seemed caught up in their own on-going lives. Plus, Jack kept calling and asking when she’d join him again and he was, after all, her husband. So she made plans to join him and Tim had accepted her announcement with that same impassive expression he had that could mean any of a dozen things. They were doing better, more attached, so she decided if it bothered him, he’d certainly say something.

And he did.

But he waited until ten minutes before she left for the airport.

“I don’t want you to go,” he’d said, tears in his eyes before he ducked his head.

“Tim,” she’d said, her voice strained. “It’s a little late. Your dad is expecting me.”

“So, call him,” Tim said, almost pleading but not quite.

“I mean, if you really need me,” Janet said slowly, considering. She was torn, so torn– she’d missed Jack and he was so busy, but Tim wanting her– needing her– felt like something she’d been waiting years for him to admit.

“No, never mind,” he said quickly, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just had a weird night.”

“Are you sure?” Janet asked, knowing she’d drop her plans if he said the word.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Tell Dad I said hi.”

Janet kissed his forehead and hugged him and went out to the waiting car. She felt a little disappointed but guilty about it, because it was good that he was alright.

She was barely out of the front drive when he came tearing out of the house, crying.

“Mom, mom,” he said, rapping his hand against the window while she rolled it down. “Mom, please, stay. Please stay.”

And maybe it was the stress of being late for her flight, but Janet felt suddenly annoyed with him. He was almost nine years old and had known her travel plans for five days.

“Tim,” she said, trying nonetheless to keep her voice soft and calm, “you don’t need to be so dramatic. It isn’t like you. I’ll come home in a week, baby. Just a week.”

He hiccuped and put his arm across his face and she waited. After a moment, he nodded and turned from the car.

“Love you!” she called after him.

“Love you,” he answered, his voice muffled through his sleeve.

When she called a week later to check on him, he sounded fine. He didn’t say anything about expecting her home, which was a relief since Jack had made plans without asking her first, and Tim was already excited about an experiment he’d been working on. She listened patiently while he talked about it and then he had to go to an evening class.

His ninth birthday came and went and Janet came and went from the house, over and over. Tim fluctuated between giddy and morose, but never at such sharp spikes or with such pronouncement that she grew worried. The one time she did feel a slight pang of concern, Jack soothed her worries with the acknowledgment that Tim was a boy and whatever he was dealing with was probably normal.

Janet really didn’t know so she trusted Jack.

They fell into routines and Janet was now long-used to Tim being awake when she fell asleep and also when she woke up. She wasn’t sure when exactly he slept but he was responsible enough to take naps in the afternoon sometimes, and if it was unusual that he drank coffee he made up for it by brewing extra for her when she was home, better than she could make for herself.

And as he grew, he became increasingly private, or guarded, sometimes even locking his room when he was away.

When she mentioned this to Jack, he snorted once and waved a hand, saying, “I don’t know any twelve year old who wants his mother to find his dirty magazines. I would’ve wanted to kill myself.”

And Tim wasn’t defensive or angry in conversation, but rather gave off an aura of near-constant worry. Janet resigned herself to his growing sense of self-determination and need for privacy, suspecting she was crowding him, and went to Paris with Jack.

They came home sometime in the middle of his thirteenth year to find his worried frown vanished and the basement outfitted with gym equipment. Jack, though he never worked out if he could help it, seemed exceedingly proud of Tim’s newfound hobby as if his pointed insistence on soccer during Tim’s elementary years had something to do with it.

“This is great,” he said to Janet while surveying the equipment. “Maybe I’ll start exercising. It’s great for him.”

Janet couldn’t even find anything to be anxious about. Tim had gone from pushing hard for adulthood to nearly adult, seemingly overnight. He carried himself like he knew where he was going, and his moments of obvious self-doubt or hesitancy were dwindling.

And if Tim, when he did talk to them, spoke often of Bruce Wayne, who was she to deny the boy another mentor? God knew Jack was home even less than she was, and Tim clearly looked up to their long-time neighbor. When she insisted on asking some questions, just to make sure Tim was…safe, was not being ‘taken advantage of’ as she put in mildly, afraid to put ideas into his head if nothing was going on, it turned out that Bruce Wayne shared a fondness for photography and computers. Tim had been caught sneaking onto the property to take pictures and when Janet expressed horror at his trespassing, she’d been introduced to the butler and felt much better afterward.

So, when Tim gently suggested that perhaps, at nearly fourteen and with a responsible neighbor and a busy school schedule, that he no longer needed a nanny, Jack was all too ready to cut it out of the budget and give the boy his freedom.

“He’s a responsible kid,” he assured Janet after letting the nanny go. “He’ll be fine.”

Tim barely slept.

Tim inhaled pots of coffee.

Tim worked in the gym for hours, arranged his own trip overseas the following year, kept his door locked, taught himself how to drive, emailed her regular updates that she always read but didn’t always know what to reply.

And at least he wasn’t using drugs or vandalizing property or throwing parties in the house while they were gone. Her friends were now dealing with such behavior in their children, and two of them had already dealt with arrests and one had a son in rehab– rehab at fourteen.

If she had any remaining reservations about their new arrangement, they were not discussed with Jack. After years of happily traveling and working together, things had taken a bitter turn between them and when they weren’t fighting about each other, the last thing she wanted to do was fight about Tim.

And Tim was, like Jack said, fine.

He emailed her pictures that she looked at on her phone while waiting with Jack to board the plane to Haiti. For a moment, she considered sharing them with Jack but he was in a bad mood and stressed about a delayed boarding time.

She opened an email to reply to Tim, to admire the pictures and tell him she loved him, but their seating section was suddenly called and she turned the phone off. Tim knew, like Tim knew nearly everything. She’d never known such a smart kid and it was more obvious the older he got, the more children she met.

Tim was fine.

Janet was not.

They arrived to muggy weather in Haiti and she saved the email to Tim in her drafts and in the end, it was never sent.

Janet Drake went home three weeks later, an unusually short absence.

The problem was that she went home in a coffin.

[bedlamsbard]

Hi, big fan of your blog! =) I am a relatively new SW fan & thought I'd ask a veteran: what's your take on Qui-Gon & Dooku? I think about them a lot more than I should, mostly because Dooku is...Dooku, and Qui-Gon was still Qui-Gon after being effectively raised by the guy. There isn't much canon info about them other than in AoTC when Dooku tells Obi that Qui-Gon gave him updates about his padawan, which kinda implies they had a casual relationship at the very least. And Wookiepedia (1/2)

said something about how Dooku left the order partly because he was disillusioned by Qui-Gon's death. I'm not sure I understand what that means, exactly. The Dooku I saw in film & TCW seemed pretty much consumed with being a powerful Sith Lord and the antithesis of Yoda's idea of the Order. How do you think they got along as master/padawan? How much truth do you think there is to the statement of Qui-Gon's death contributing to Dooku walking away from the order? I get that Qui-Gon was a (2/3)

known maverick & Dooku wasn't traditional either, and maybe he thought Qui-Gon might harbor the same ideas he did about the order & someday join him in walking away? There's just a lot I wonder about in their relationship and how much of a part it played in later events. Or how they even managed a relationship, given Qui-Gon was an eccentric with an affinity for stray life forms & Dooku was...a lot of things, but compassionate is not on that list. (3/3) Sorry this is so long!!!

Hi!  Ironically, Dooku is a character I’ve thought about a lot, while Qui-Gon isn’t.  (Weirdly, I don’t think I’ve ever actually written Qui-Gon in a long and storied career of writing PT-era Star Wars fanfic.)

I think that as a Jedi Dooku was simultaneously very traditional and very much a maverick, in the way that Yoda is simultaneously very traditional and very much a maverick, and I think a lot of that probably comes as push back to having Yoda as a master.  Which I suspect resonates down that master-and-apprentice lineage: Dooku reacts to Yoda, Qui-Gon reacts to Dooku, Obi-Wan reacts to Qui-Gon, Anakin reacts to Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka reacts to Anakin. And which shows up in other lineages as well; it’s just harder to track because we don’t have other lineages that are as clear as the Yoda lineage.  (The other big one is Mace-Depa-Kanan (Caleb)-Ezra, and aside from that there’s Luminara and Barriss.  However, we only see those other lineages in the context of the Clone Wars (or the Rebellion, for Kanan and Ezra), and the Clone Wars hugely changed the way that the Jedi Order functioned, and obviously the Purge completely threw everything out.)

My take on Dooku as a Jedi is that he was very, very radical, initially in a way that was tolerated by the Order.  (I suspect that prior to the Clone Wars, there were a lot more schools of thought about the Jedi’s place in the galaxy and relationship to the Force and to the Republic and how the Order should function; it’s pretty clear that Mace and Yoda both come out of two different philosophies.)  I think I said somewhere that I have this headcanon about Dooku and Depa Billaba both being in the same sabacc and philosophy club prior to TPM; at some point it probably stopped being academic to him and he went looking for more information, and I think this was probably anywhere from a few months to a few years before TPM.  At some point he also either left or was kicked off the Council.  (Given Depa Billaba’s relative youth -- prior to TCW the Council skews older; in TCW and RotS the Council skews very, very young, I have a theory about this -- she probably got his seat, either temporarily or permanently at the time.)  I think there’s some behind the scenes stuff from Dave Filoni that suggests that Dooku was already Sithily-inclined prior to TPM, but I tend to take BTS more as guidelines rather than hard canon.

Anyway, most of that is just me thinking out loud and not actually answering your question, whoops.

AotC suggests that Dooku and Qui-Gon were actually pretty close, despite not having seen each other for a long time.  Given Dooku’s, uh, everything, I would not actually be terribly surprised to find out that Dooku went on Jedi pilgrimage for the decade or so of Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship, especially if he was in the midst of having a crisis of faith, which given that immediately afterwards he left the Order and became a Sith lord seems fairly likely.  Someone he cared about deeply dying under mysterious circumstances that were immediately hushed up probably kicked him over the edge.  (Especially if he tried to reach out to Obi-Wan and was rebuffed by Yoda or Mace going “yeah, maybe don’t bother the kid at the moment” or some variant thereof.)

Also, like...it is possible to have a relationship with someone who’s pretty radically different in temperament than you are, and even be raised by someone who is.  But I don’t think that they actually were that different?  Or not more so than Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, or Obi-Wan and Anakin, for that matter.  It’s hard to track back to what Dooku would have been like as a Jedi master when we’ve only seen him as someone who’s been Sith lord for the past ten years.  Qui-Gon turned out all right, so that relationship couldn’t have been that bad or atypical.

(I know there’s a Legends bit about Dooku having another padawan, Komari Vosa, who went dark side, but let’s not get into that at the moment because it’s not canon anymore and I never liked it anyway.)

Anyway, this is a long and rambling response that doesn’t really answer your question, but I hope is at least interesting to read?

[tigerlover16-uk]

If you’re open. For one, japanese polls show fans wanted Yamcha for the tournament. Super had filler mocking Yamcha as a loser who Gohan & Co try to prevent from learning of the tournament. The latest Herms translation on a Q&A for the Anime on why Yamcha wasn’t at the tournament, gave Goku's reason as he(Goku) thought little of Yamcha. I'd call that a dig, personally. If I was writing Super's I wouldn't do stuff things like that as they further divide, anger, or alienate the fandom for Super.

Hmm, okay I see your points there, and it’s understandable that Yamcha fans are upset.

Okay, for one thing though… how do you know the stuff with Yamcha in the saga isn’t Toriyama’s idea? The whole thing with him just expecting to be recruited and going home to wait seems more like an excuse to keep him out of the plot than a dig at the fans. And while I get taking issue with that idea… let’s think about it from a creative standpoint.

The tournament only has ten spots available. Extending the rosters to include more members would put a lot more work on Toriyama, Toyotaro and any other character designers at Toei to come up with that many more characters from other universes, of which this saga basically has close to a hundred new ones.

Each character is there for a reason. Goku and Vegeta can’t not be on the roster. Gohan’s been set up for his comeback for a while, and Piccolo can’t be passed up. Krillin is Goku’s best friend and the strongest earthling, so he has to be there. Android 18 is the only high tier action girl in the Z fighters, and Android 17 was brought back because he’s underdeveloped and hasn’t been seen since his cameo at the end of the Buu saga. So this was the perfect opportunity to use him, since this whole tournament setting benefits from teamwork between the warriors. Majin Buu was initially chosen to fill out a spot because he’s the most powerful non-saiyan. Master Roshi is on the roster because a running theme of this saga seems to involve experience and skill at fighting being often more valuable than raw power, and master Roshi is the wise old master character. He fits with that better than anyone else.

Tien is really the only one without a clearly definited role or reason for being here other than that he’s strong and fans love him. His role from what we’ve seen and the synopsis for the next episode seems to mainly be about supporting the other characters. A role Yamcha could have easily filled too, but then you’d have Tien fans angry that he was being excluded to service Yamcha, so either character gets the short end of the stick however that played out.

Frieza taking up Majin Buu’s spot seems to be a major plot point for the saga, because Toriyama wouldn’t bring him back again unless he has a good reason. But of course, Toei needed an excuse for why any other character couldn’t have been brought up by the Z fighters when Majin Buu started hibernating, because seriously, that’s a huge risk that’s not worth taking if there’s a better option.

Goten and Trunks were explained away because they’re too young, inexperienced and uncoordinated for this kind of tournament. Not unfounded, given how they handled fighting Majin Buu as Gotenks.

Yamcha though, he was an obvious back up choice for if one of the other characters couldn’t compete, and obviously viewers were going to notice that. And even if he wasn’t written as wanting to get back into fighting, he would never refuse such an offer knowing the universe was at stake.

So an excuse had to be made, since Toriyama wanted Frieza for some yet to be reached plot reason (Notice that character’s like Jaco weren’t even acknowledged and they skipped out on the chance to canonize Pikkon aswell, like some fans wanted).

And there was a way around it. Yamcha had already retired from fighting back at the Cell saga, Goku knows this by now and so wouldn’t expect Yamcha to still be in fighting shape by this time. Keep in mind, back in the Champa saga he initially turned down Vegeta’s suggestion to recruit Gohan, not because he thought he was a bad choice, but because he knew Gohan was rusty and not really a fighter anymore, and they needed someone who could already fight at their best for the tournament. As soon as Goku learned that Gohan had been training with Piccolo and he asked Goku if he could compete, Goku was more than okay with it until the conference thing came up.

Same thing probably would apply to Yamcha in this tournament. Goku didn’t even know who he wanted for the tenth member until Oolong told him Roshi was with Tien. He had no real reason to assume Yamcha would have wanted to join the roster, since he’d been out of fighting so long. And the only chance he would have got to recruit Yamcha was at Bulma’s place, and as soon as the tournament came up Yamcha was all like “Hey, I wanna join too!! But wait, maybe I should wait for them to ask me? Yeah, that’s it, I’ll go home and wait, then turn em down, and then make a grand entrance at the last minute”

It was silly and a bit weird since Yamcha’s not one for showboating usually (Though not necessarily above doing silly things), but it got him out of the way long enough for Goku to recruit a full team and then Frieza. It’s not clear if this whole situation was Toriyama’s or Toei’s idea, but Toriyama was definitely the one to decide the roster and who was going to do what in this saga. So he would have been responsible for Yamcha not competing anyway, so I wouldn’t put the situation above him. Heck, it feels like something he probably thought up on the spot while he was writing the outline, wrote it down real quick and didn’t too hard about it before handing it off to Toei and Toyotaro, who were stuck with it at that point. We’ll know for sure what exactly the situation is when the manga’s a bit further ahead and we see what Toyotaro’s excuse is. If it’s more or less exactly the same, then we can safely say it was Toriyama’s idea and thus not filler by Toei.

Also, where did Gohan or anyone try to hide that the tournament was happening from Yamcha or demean him over it. Goku and co mentioned the tournament was happening right in front of him, that’s what caused him to suddenly run off the way he did. No one ever said he couldn’t be in the tournament, nor did they mock him over it. They just didn’t think to ask him, because again, Goku and the others knew he was supposedly retired and thus didn’t immediately think of him as a candidate any more than they did Videl. Everyone acted pretty normally around him, the only exception being Vegeta showing annoyance when Bulla started crying, but the same thing had just happened when Mr Satan tried to make her laugh so that wasn’t anything against Yamcha. Just a throw away gag.

Oolong is the only character who tried to dance around the subject, and that was when Yamcha directly asked him if the others might recruit him after the roster had already been filled, and Oolong didn’t want to disappoint him. Otherwise, there’s no implication anybody would have turned him down or derided his fighting ability if he had just openly asked about the tournament when he had the chance. They didn’t think twice about having Yamcha play baseball with them, because they all knew he was great at that and he would have been the most useful person to help out.

It’s sad that Yamcha ended up screwing himself out of a place on the team, but that was more due to his own ego, not because any of the other characters thought badly about him. Nothing about his scenes really paints him as pathetic or a loser, just that he had gotten ahead of himself and made a silly mistake.

I don’t think this running gag was meant to deride or attack the character. Otherwise the writers would have had the characters openly mock him a lot more, turn him down when he asked, and have him end up feeling dejected. But he wasn’t especially upset at all when the others left to fight in the tournament. He was sheepish and embarrassed with himself when Puar expressed sympathy for him being left out, and he looked rightfully suspicious about Frieza, but he ultimately laughed it off as one of those things, and when everybody did leave he got serious for a moment and wished them luck, saying that they had to win. Which goes to show that Yamcha has his priorities straight and that the fate of the universe matters more than him getting a chance to strut his stuff.

This entire situation could have definitely been handled better and wasn’t a funny joke, but honestly I don’t get the feeling that Yamcha was being intentionally derided or mocked by the writers. If anything, the joke seems to be that he could have probably avoided the situation he made for himself and got what he wanted if he stopped being silly and just asked Goku directly if he could be on the team. Which, again, dumb joke. Not necessarily an attack at the character, or his fans.

The thing with the Q & A sounds suspicious, I agree, and I can’t really say too much without knowing the full context. It could be just the one person doing the interview giving it his own two cents and not really talking for Toriyama or the writing staff, in which case shame on him. Or maybe the intention was lost, and he’s just meaning that in the sense that Goku didn’t think of Yamcha because he’s been out of the game so long that he’s probably very out of shape, similar to his reasoning with Gohan for the U6 tournament. Which, that’s not too bad, though not exactly fair on Yamcha either. I dunno, feel free to be annoyed with that one.

I get being upset with how Yamcha’s been treated. I’m not really happy with it either, I’d love to see more done with Yamcha because I do love his character, I’m just not offended or angry because I don’t think there’s any intentional disrespect towards him. Just that the writers aren’t sure what to do with his character, since Toriyama clearly isn’t giving them anything for him to do in the main stories. Which, yeah that’s not a good excuse, but it’s one I can live with, and it’s what feels like the case rather than them having it out for the guy.

It’s good to hear that Japanese fans wanted more of Yamcha. Maybe that’ll encourage Toei to push Toriyama to do something with him in the future, or maybe give him his own story’s or character arc in a breather episode or two after this saga wraps up. Maybe finally give him a girlfriend that doesn’t treat him like Bulma did. For all we know, Toei and Toriyama might just not have considered that he had so much support while planning the saga.

Although, a lot of Western fans wanted Cell on the roster instead of Frieza, and that wouldn’t necessarily have been for the better in terms of the story. Sometimes what fans want isn’t always going to be in the best interests of the story. We already had two characters, Krillin and Gohan, who’s had to have character arcs developed about them wanting to pick up martial arts again and get stronger leading into and during the current saga, three if you count Master Roshi given his interaction with Ganos in today’s episode and the “secret training” he’s apparently been doing for a while for years now to be able to fight fairly in the tournament of power.

Having the last remaining character besides Videl who had given up being a martial artist and more active member of the Z fighters, and that might start feeling redundant or pushing things too far, having so many characters suddenly getting stronger again so soon to the level that they can seriously compete with the warriors from the other universes. I mean, look around at how many people are outright angry for some reason that Krillin was able to put up any kind of fight against people at all.

And none of this is to say that leaving Yamcha out and have him play so little a role in Super so far is justified or that you can’t be disappointed and annoyed over it as a fan of the character, or how it’s been handled. Feel free to do so. And you have a point being concerned that this might make the divides in the fandom even worse, though that’s more down to the idiots in the fandom being stupid and fueling their own confirmation biases than anything. Same reason I don’t truly hate TFS for the problems they’ve caused, because at least several members like Kaiserneko acknowledge their bad influence and they never meant to create such levels of toxicity in the fandom. Careless fans who can’t understand that something is a parody are responsible for that.

you have a right to be mad. But personally, I don’t think any of these things are intentionally digs at fans so much as they are ignorance on Toei’s part. Who knows, maybe Toriyama actually has a plan and this thing with Yamcha this saga is actually leading to something down the line, won’t know until we’re a lot further into Super. Things could improve, but it is frustrating the way things are going so far and I don’t blame you for being in a bad mood.

I don’t think the situation’s as bad as you do, but then again maybe I’m just not as passionate about Yamcha as you are and I see things from a different perspective. This is all I can really say on the subject, I’m sure I can’t really do much to change your mind and you do have some good points and reasons to feel the way you do.

Let’s both just hope that things start looking up for Yamcha in the future, and that Toyotaro doesn’t actually have the characters directly insult Yamcha for wanting to compete or something like that when he gets further ahead in the manga. Because honestly with his writing, I wouldn’t put it past him to do exactly what you think the anime is doing.